#i am so sorry but i would be so embarrassed to call myself a feminist and prioritize relationships and friendships with men

[whydoeseveryonehavetobelesbian]

watching barbie with my friends made me realize i take feminism way more seriously than them because i know barbie's approach to feminism is pretty basic (even though needed) but while i thought it gave too much credit and softened the blow to men they couldn't stop talking about allan or ken's redemption arc or whatever and it feels hopeless because i know even though they don't say it that when i talk about not caring not believing not trusting any man ever they think it's a joke or a performance or a childish belief i have because i am a lesbian that i will eventually grow out of i am but a girl's girl stuck in a men-centering friend group

[quinnfabrcys]

he loved her, he loved her, he loved her. she was a like breath of fresh air, he told her, she made him feel normal. where have you been all my life, quinn fabray? carter loveless. as in jane austen's if i loved you less, i might be able to talk about it more. but all men do is lie. and let their mothers treat their supposed love of their lives like shit. let it be known, quinn fabray is a certified feminist. but celia loveless is a certified cunt. the older woman who hired a private investigator to look into her son's girlfriend and decided to throw it back into her face, use it to embarrass her. did you know quinn was a teen mom? oh, yeah. then she just gave up the poor thing. couldn't even take responsibility. we don't have to worry about you giving up a future grandchild, do we? and that stupid rich person laugh. followed by her daughter's stupid laugh. now she wanted to jump over the table and in her best friend's words go all lima heights on her ass, that's what santana would've done. carter immediately moved the knife on her plate out of sight. as if he knew. "mom —," "you know, celia, we have a lot of common. i didn't raise my kid, you definitely didn't raise your kids, so i don't think you should be giving anyone parenting advice, you cunt," how dare you. where do you get off talking to me like that? "oh, are you upset? you have so much botox and fillers i couldn't tell," her attention moving to his sister right after, "and they had to pay half a million dollars to get you into usc because they thought you were too stupid to get in on your own and they were right!"

"you called my mom a cunt, my sister stupid, quinn, and you don't see anything wrong with that?" the man ran his hands over his face because of course this was so stressful for him. "i'm sorry, were you there when beth was brought into it? how it was so funny that a sixteen year old girl gave her baby up for adoption? i had to defend myself because you sure as hell weren't gonna do it. she did it to embarrass me, carter," the blonde immediately shot back. ""babe, she didn't mean it, that's just how she is sometimes. okay? i just think if you apologized first and were the bigger person —," and in that moment she understood why so many women snapped and killed their boyfriends and husbands because jesus christ. men were the worst. santana was always telling her to get a girlfriend for a reason. "not only am i not apologizing to leather face and her dumb ass daughter, i would never have children with fucking a pussy ass momma's boy, carter," santana lopez would be proud. she'd be even prouder if her best friend let her beat his ass, but that wasn't really an option at the moment.

dainty gold ring cladded hands ran over the yale university diplomas in their respective frames. two degrees in social work. lima, lima, lima. she put six hundred and seventy miles between her and lima when she went to new haven. then it was eight hundred when she moved to boston. lima, ohio. typical middle america. she tells people she's from columbus when they ask. well, it's close enough, because people from big cities would rarely know where a little town in the middle of ohio is. the town that she so badly wanted to escape once upon a time. she no longer thinks of her hometown like that. something to run from. instead it's something that welcomes her home no matter what's going on in her life. and right now she needed to be home. so there she was. in what once was the office of emma pillsbury, making it her own little piece of mckinley. maybe it's true what they say, that one way or another, you'll always find your way back home.

william mckinley was like a time warp. and finn hudson was everywhere. ten years felt like just yesterday and a million years ago all the same time. her chest hurt so bad the last time she was here as if it often did. the past summer. her friends always keeping their promises. by now, most of them were married or had kids. yet, quinn was content with being aunt quinn, aunt q, or 'inn, for the littlest ones. her baby was thirteen and she still remembered how much that shit hurt, so she was fine, thank very much. by now, all the students who ever knew finn hudson had graduated and moved on. to current students, he was solely the name on the auditorium. time was such a weird thing. with the sound of footsteps coming closer and pulling her out of her thoughts, the blonde turned around to see who it was. a smile immediately etching on her lips, sam evans. a magnificent duet partner, an even more amazing person. maybe the one that got away. "hi, sam," she spoke up, green eyes settling onto his blue ones. "you think this school's big enough for the both of us?"

[cricketcampbell]

"Oh my God," Cricket leans forward, sliding her sunglasses from the bridge of her nose to the top of her head, "you mean I haven't told you the story?"

Quickly, she scours her mental rolodex for something of interest--passing the dreaded bangs attempt of '09, the Beef Wellington recipe she'd decided to try for the first time last year the day of a major clients Christmas party, and the time she'd really pushed that Plan B 72 hour limit...but as far as risks went, they all felt too tame to bother sharing.

"Let me set the scene." And take a sip of her mimosa, because this would require it. "It's 2016. We're in Italy on our graduating class trip. We're at the fucking Trevi Fountain, and it is unreal. Like, unlike anything you've ever seen before." At least, she's assuming. "And all of sudden this beautiful Italian man comes up to me, but he's calling me Isabella, and I'm like okay...I don't speak Italian, obviously, but like...something's not adding up here. But he asks me to meet him again the next day, and like, when am I ever going to get this opportunity again? So I fake being sick and ditch the rest of my classmates to go meet him. Turns out, he's a fucking Italian popstar, and I look, like, scarily close to his old partner who he's supposed to be playing this music festival with--oh my god, thank you so much."

The waitress sets their plates down in front of them, interrupting the story, but after a bite of her bacon, Cricket continues.

"And I'm like okay, not loving that you're with me and thinking of other girls, but then he asks me to pretend to be her at the musical festival. Apparently she just ran right off after they broke up, which--if that were me, same. But I'm like sorry buddy, my singing is strictly for the shower and in the car by myself, but get this: she lip syncs. And he's so cute, Lily, and when a cute Italian popstar asks you to pretend to be his singing partner, you say yes. So I agree...only to later find out that he's planning to embarrass me by turning on my mic and making me sing live in front of all those people! Turns out, he's the one who lip syncs, not her, and he was just using me to try and tank her career, which as a feminist, I am not about, obviously. So she ends up at the festival, cuts his mic to expose his awful singing, and right when I'm getting ready to walk off the stage and let her take over, she convinces me to sing the song with her, live...so I do, because I mean, I'm already there, and literally just the whole time I'm thinking to myself...this is what dreams are made of."

Parched from both the bacon and the storytelling, Cricket reached for another sip of her drink, "can you even believe it?"

She shouldn't, because it was more or less the plot of The Lizzie McGuire movie, but Cricket's curious to see how well she sold it.

location: up to you! for: @aurorabaystarter

"What's the riskiest thing you've ever done?" Lily asks, forcing herself out of her head by engaging anybody in her immediate vicinity. "Like, looking back you can't believe you actually did it."

[newtonsheffield]

Spicy Sunday 🌶🌶 Molly cheap thrills was such a surprise - loved it! The flirting 😍 Now we need to fill in the blanks of what happened when Kate brought him home

Absolutely LOVED Cheap Thrills!!!!! Your writing is constantly amazing, I get so excited every time you post! Would it be too much to request more from this universe, maybe some spice🌶? Wishing you a great upcoming week, love from Canada🇨🇦

so…. cheap thrills spicy sunday?

also klepto drunk molly is very unexpected yet welcome

So I hadn't planned to write this AU really. But I told @readandbemerry but my drunk antics and Cheap Thrills was born! A pair of glasses isn't even my weirdest trophy. I once came back from the bathroom wearing a crown that to this day neither my friends or myself can explain. I have no memory of it. It looks like the kind of thing Julius Caesar would wear.

Okay! Let's do some Spice in this Universe, but I also feel like... you already know how it goes. It was in Kate's drink order 😏😏😏😏😏

Anthony really wasn't sure how he ended up in the back of a taxi with Kate Sharma's lips nipping at his neck, her hand settled on his thigh. He hadn't been able to help himself last night, Someone had stumbled, on their way into the bar, and instinctively his hands had reached out to steady them and suddenly he'd been staring down at most probably the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders, her eyes wide with surprise, her smile apologetic as she mumbled Sorry.

"No worries, Hey-" But she was gone. And Anthony spent the next few hours staring at her laughing across the bar. He'd taken his glasses off to clean them, turned around and suddenly there was a much smaller woman staring up at him.

"Are you a good guy?"

Anthony had been startled but stuttered to answer "Yes. Yeah. Umm I think so. Maybe. No, Yes, I am."

She nodded. "And you're how old?"

"Twen-Twenty-nine?"

"And have you ever killed anybody?"

Benedict beside him had laughed bemusedly, "No!"

"And you have a stable job? You're not like... I don't know making t-shirts from the boot of your car or working on your garage band?"

"I'm a barrister?" He really had no idea what was happening but something was compelling him to answer.

"And your name is?"

"Anthony?"

The woman stared at him scrutinisingly for a moment before saying. "Give me your arm." His arm shot out of its own accord, "Well, Anthony," She was writing something on his arm in felt tip, "You should call Kate. Because you've been eye fucking her all night and she stole your glasses 5 minutes ago."

And then she was gone as well, and Anthony had just stared like a stunned mullet as she followed Kate from the bar, his hand already fumbling for his phone.

"You have to call that Girl." Benedict had said a little incredulously but Anthony was already dialling, his heart racing, it just seemed too good to be- Hi this is Kate Sharma, I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you. Maybe not too good to be true.

And then He'd seen her at the bar again, her black dress hugging her body, his glasses perched on top of her head like a trophy, even more beautiful than he'd remembered and it had taken everything in him not to march up to her and claim her lips right there. He wasn't really sure what to expect from a woman who engaged in petty theft when drunk and honestly, she seemed mortally embarrassed by it. But other than that, she was razor sharp. Her witty remarks as sharp as her cheekbones, standing toe to toe with him, drawing him closer with each new fact about herself, and before the bartender had even taken his money, Anthony had known he was going to ask her to dinner, and probably out again after that.

He really hadn't expected her to invite him home, hadn't been looking for it, but that wasn't going to stop him from standing and fumbling over himself as they left the restaurant. As he fumbled around on his phone ordering a taxi he could feel her eyes on him, staring curiously. He turned to face her as he hung up, nerves building in his stomach. Their eyes locked together, and jesus she was beautiful, maybe too beautiful in the bright city lights, tension building between them.

"Can I kiss you?" It swept from his chest a little unbidden.

She'd stepped closer to him, her hand on his chest, burning there. And then he dipped his head and their lips met, and it had never felt like this before. Her lips were moving against his, meeting them just like her banter had, perfectly in sync after just seconds, his hands moving to grip her waist, tugging her tight against him, her hands threading through his hair as the kiss deepened, his leg slipping between hers and-

"Oi!" A car horn sounded startling them apart. "If you get in mate, you might avoid getting arrested." The taxi driver was rolling his eyes, Kate ducking her head a little embarrassedly as Anthony pulled her inside, murmuring her address before her teeth started nipping at his neck, heat building between them.

By the time they reached her flat it had reached a slightly desperate stage, hands fumbling down the corridor, his chest pressing against her back as she fumbled with her keys, a low whine escaping her as he ducked his lips to her collarbone, sucking lightly against it, his teeth following, falling through the door as it swung open. Kate's hands were dragging him down a small corridor, her eyes locked on his.

"I don't um... do this that often, I'm sorry if this is... weird?" She started a little awkwardly, breaking the bubble forming around them, Anthony ducked his head cutting her off with another kiss.

"I have to say, this is definitely the weirdest way anyone's ever flirted with me, and I fucking loved it." Her eyes widened, staring back at him, tension thick in the air. And then she moved, her hands releasing his forearms, sliding to her own back, a zipper drawn down and Anthony felt his mouth drop open. staring. Frozen.

"Are you going to-?" Her fingers playing with the hem of his sweater, her voice soft pulling him from his reverie.

"Oh my god, Yes. Sorry, You're just really pretty and I got a little distracted." Anthony couldn't keep the grin off his face as he tugged his sweater over his head, obscuring her eye roll, tugging his jeans off seconds later.

She was staring at him now, her eyes glazing a little.

"So maybe your mum and I do share the same opinion." her hands were tight on his bicep tugging him back to her.

"I knew it."

And then his lips were on hers again, her exposed skin, setting his on fire as their teeth clashed, tongues tangling, her hips moving against his leg between hers.

"What do you want, Kate?"

She looked a little wild as she stared back at him, her voice rough, her lips tugging upwards in a catlike smile, "Mine's a slow screw against the wall."

A whine escaped his chest, his hands tugging on her legs, lifting them to wrap around her turning them, until she's pressed firmly against the wall, trapped against him. Her smile nearly too bright. His eyes questioning, her legs tightening around him. A gasp given together as their hips started moving together, push and pull, his forehead falling against hers, his spine shivering with the little noises she made as he moved against her, her hands tight in his hair. His glasses still perched on her head, forcing a slightly possessive growl from his chest. Heat building in his stomach slowly, simmering, a steady pace, the noice echoing through the room like his heartbeat Oh My god, Anthony, Anthony, Fuck Fuck, Anthony. Her eyes blown even wider as she shuddered against him, falling apart all around him But Anthony held her together, his arms tight around her as he pulled her from the wall, stumbling a little in the few steps, her breathing ragged in his ear as he laid back against the mattress, forcing him to straddle her.

Kate stared down at him, clearly a little surprised, his own voice rough,

"I like to see a woman on top." a small shrug escaping him.

A slightly breathless laugh bursting from her, as she started to rock against him. "We thank you for your feminist efforts."

Whatever witty response he was going to make died on his lips as she started moving in earnest, her fingernails digging into his chest, his hands tightening on her hips encouraging her against him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge, choked words falling from his lips. Holy Fuck, So beautiful, you're so incredible, Needy, greedy gasps, Again, Kate. Kate Kate Kate, Again Please. A soft cry breaking free from her chest, and he fell over the edge as well.

Kate collapsed again him, reaching up and plucking his glasses from the top of her head, her shoulders still heaving as she fought for breath, sliding his glasses back on his face. Her smile a little brilliant.

"I knew you'd look better with them on."

A breathless laugh from his own lips. "Next time you fuck me, I'll wear them for you, Catwoman."

This got way too long, I'm sorry

[crazy-bi-btch]

Exploring ( Sweet Pea X Reader)

Summary: Sweet Pea and Y/n have a dirty secret that can lead to trouble.

Paring: Sweet Pea X Reader

Warning: NSFW, MA, smutttt like alottt, light BDSM

Word count: 5k

A/N: Okay  so this was a request from a long time ago and i like how it started so I want to make a second part to it! Hope yall like it!

-Present time-

“ We need to talk!” Cheryl grabbed my arm, pulling me into the nearest empty classroom. I flinched as she pressed on the fresh bruise. Her eyes widened, “ Take the jacket off!”

I sneered, “ Damn, Cheryl— don’t think Toni would like that.” She glared at me and I caved in. That's it. Our secret will be brought out by Ms. Cheryl blossom. I told Sweet Pea, not to leave a noticeable mark. But of course, this is Sweat Pea I’m talking about. Shit. I annoyingly took my serpent coat off and Cheryl’s eyes widened and a small gasp left the poor girl.

Now how the hell do I tell her that the serpent that is the most trouble in the gang is secretly fucking me behind everyone’s back.

“ Jesus! Y/n What the actual—” 

“ I can explain.” I rush over to her to coax her from making a big fuss. She was furious. I mean she’s the biggest feminist I know beside Betty and Veronica.

“ Did the ghoulies do this to you! WHO DID THIS! IS THIS THE BOY—” I clamped my hand over her loud ass mouth. 

“Shhh!” She mumbled under my mouth and rolled her eyes crossing her arms. 

“ No one beat me up! It’s this boy—”

“Is he hurting you because I can send some serpents, his way!” She practically stomped, her frown very visible. I sheepishly remembered every single bruise and mark and how they were made.

“ It’s...a sex...thing” I mumbled avoiding her glare, she clearly couldn’t hear me.

“Huh?” Her arms crossed and an annoyed face pressuring me to spill my truth.

“ God dammit Cheryl I’m having kinky sex..” I whisper-shouted, a blush invading me as I heard myself admit it. 

She looked like she was about to faint. “ That-” she pointed wide-eyed, I nodded, pulling the coat over my bruised arms. She turned around, rubbing her temples.

“ With who? And what the hell is wrong with you! It looks so-” I cocked my eyebrow at her

“Painful?” 

“ YES!” She exclaimed concerned, I giggled softly.

“ Don’t kink shame me Cheryl Blossom because I know damn well you and Toni go all 50 shades of gray.” She blushed but was ready to counterattack like always.

“ But I don’t bruise her— visibly!” She pointed out again, I sighed and hugged her.

“ Look, I know you’re concerned… but I’m fine... We have a safeword and it's fun!” I reassured her as she hugged back.

“ Okay… I trust you! But I don’t know about him. Who is he?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows at me. I smirked at her. 

“ That’s a secret I’ll never tell..” I giggled and ran out the classroom, but not before hearing her classic  groan of annoyance.

-48 hours before-

Saturday. It was finally here! Your phone rang, waking you up from your deep slumber.

“Fuckkk…” I groaned, half asleep as I blindly looked for my annoying phone.” Hello.”

“Hey.” My stomach flipped and my eyes shot open. Sweet Pea.

“ Hey.” I smiled softly as his voice gave me the energy and brightness enough for the day. Then I realized, today is our ‘appointment’.

“ Just decided to call you and let you know I’m excited for today.” The smirk in his voice is practically oozing. I rolled my eyes playfully.

“ Oh really? What is so special today?” I acted coy with a hint of playfulness, his demeanor fell as his voice cracked. 

“ Don’t play with me y/n.” He hissed softly into the phone, it sent a shock straight to my core. I bit my lip. 

“ Sorry Pea...I can’t meet with you today. I have another meeting with someone else tonight.” I teased, laying back into my pillows like a cliche teenage girl in a teen-drama movie.

He groaned, clearly angry, “ Who the fuck….— In a minute Fangs! I swear to god y/n if your fucking someone else.”

“ Yeah I am….and he takes very good care of me… he’s my daddy..” I edged him even more, the game suddenly starting now. The small sigh and chuckle that he released gave my heart a kick. He was jealous.

“ He sure does huh?” He teased  his voice suddenly deeper and lower. “ I have a surprise for you tonight. More like a gift.” Then the background noise became more noticeable.

“ Oh really?” I questioned—suddenly curious,  he then changed the subject signaling Fangs and the others were around.

“ Yes, Doug, 6:00pm I know! You and your stupid stash. See you then.” Sweet Pea gloated with laughs of the boys echoing through,” You better pay up a little more than last time.” The last part was definitely for me. Then he hung up. 

I squealed in excitement as I tossed and turned in bed. It sucked being friends with benefits, in secret may I add. It’s extremely hard and exhausting, but we knew that. We both found that in sex we weren’t getting what we wanted. We weren’t fulfilled. So on a drunk night as we were the last up in the trailer as everyone else was passed out drunk. We played a stupid game.

Flashback

“ Never have I ever faked an orgasm.” Sweet Pea slurred, laughing at nothing, barely able to sit still. 

“ Shhh! Be quiet! Umm… Yes I have!” I stifled a giggle as my finger fell from the rest that were propped up.

“Ohh I want to know!” He teased taking another swing of his beer. I pretended to zip my mouth and throw the key making us laugh.

“ My turn, Never have I ever wanted to try something new in bed.” I giggled like a 13 year old as I slurred it out. Pea shrugged and put his finger down. I exaggerated a gasp pointing at his finger.

“ Sweet Pea is kinky!” I laughed but shushed myself.(Very drunk may I add) “ Me too!” I exclaimed. And we both fell silent as we both stared at our 3 fingers remaining up.

“Never Have I ever wanted to be tied up during sex.” His voice serious and dark. And I was suddenly quiet. 2 fingers were left.

“ Never have I ever wanted her to call me daddy.” I sighed out, praying for him to drop a finger. If not then that would be embarrassing. But his finger fell.

“Never Have I ever wanted to be choked.” His signature smirk came out as he realized his power over me now. I was left with one finger. I gulped.

“ Never Have I ever wanted to fuck my bestfriend.” I croaked out, both of our expressions falling. His finger fell. “ We’re tied.” I sighed as I stared at his lips. He gulped and put his hand down, ending the game. Our eyes say everything. We wanted this….bad. 

In an instant we both crawled toward each other meeting in a fiery kiss, breaking the innocent friendship we had and entering a whole new dimension. 

End flashback

We snuck around, doing all of our deepest fantasies. We were exploring our sexual fantasies. BDSM, nothing bad with that right? Except that it was ruining our friendships around us. We were lying to them. Making them believe we have suddenly become enemies. That we couldn’t stand each other in public, at times hurting each other's feelings.

My trailer was farther to the sides from our friends trailer which made it easy for Sweet Pea to come to me. Plus, I had to put soundproof padding in my trailer room, my excuse for when friends came over. “I’m working on my singing career from home.” They believed it. 

Boys were too afraid to hurt me, or not be hard enough. But Sweet Pea… He lived for that. We fit perfectly. 

I finally decided all that overthinking and reminiscing was not gonna keep me as excited. Unless, I looked for the old iphone in my drawer where we kept our...videos. We filmed moments but only on this old phone and it NEVER leaves my drawer. We vowed it was for us but mostly for me when things happen and we can’t meet up.

I logged into it, opening the photos and started looking through all the different videos. One was that one time on Valentine’s day when he got me a new toy. It was cute and simple, but the ribbon that tied the box was long enough for my wrist to tied together also. That night was rough, safeword was used once because he didn’t let me come for the 4th time! The way he degraded and fucked my on camera seemed to always trigger those vivid memories for moments like these.

Just as I was about to pull my pants down and ease my ache, my phone dang—cutting my mood. 

SP: Red or Blue?

That was a strange message.

Y/n: Red? Why

SP: you’ll find out ;)

Okay now this was gonna kill me! 

I went on with my day cleaning the trailer, taking a shower and shaving, taking my birth control (Sweet pea pays for it and also plan B for just-in-case moments) and finishing any homework I know I will not do tomorrow because I will be too sore to do. It was 4pm and I was feeling bored out of my mind. Usually he comes earlier so we can actually do friend stuff like hang out and watch a movie but today was different. I decided to change into a cute red lace set since he did ask what color I wanted. I did light makeup and curled my hair. 

“ Damn, I look fuckable ass fuck.” I commented as I saw my reflection. Some light green on my thighs from the previous week slowly fading. A quick idea popped into my head.It would piss him off, but it would be good to let him know. I took my phone and texted.

Y/n: Wyd?

SP: Doing some serpent stuff, missing me already?

I scoffed at his cocking response.

Y/N: Maybe… Anyone around you??

SP: No...I’m in the truck waiting for them? Why?

 I jumped up in excitement and positioned myself by the mirror in the perfect angle to get a glance at everything pretty much. He’s gonna be furious… but I won’t mind. I made sure to send them quickly. Sitting down in anticipation.

Sweet Pea stared at his phone after not getting a response, it made him a little suspicious and antsy for the boys to hurry from the daily drop off service. But when he saw two pictures pop out, his vein by his temple was practically about to pop. She knew the risks. What if he wasn’t alone? They would have seen! And bam no more sex. He locked his phone and honked 4 times and the boys came running out ready to leave.

“ Yoooo Sweet’s what's the rush!” Fangs and the other laughed, he sternly glared at them.

“ I got shit to handle so can we go!” Fangs nodded but stifled a laugh as they drove away.

He didn’t respond! What the hell. He may be too busy. I decided to wear an oversized shirt and walk to the living room where I watched Friends pass the time. Then my phone rang. It was Sweet Pea.

SP: You're in trouble.

My heart raced, I got up and ran to the room making sure to get everything out, lube, handcuffs, ribbon. I sat on the bed leg shaking slightly. Then I heard the familiar steps that led up to my trailer door. His spare key twisted into the lock. Just in time. The butterflies in my stomach flutter all the way down to my thighs and core. He came in taking his boots and coat off. His footsteps coming towards the room. And I froze putting the best puppy eye dog eyes that would not save me. His face was serious, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. 

“ Hi.” I sheepishly spoke. I took a deep breath.

“ You know what you did was risky, right?” He barked, I got up making my way towards him, but he backed up slightly. 

“ I’m sorry.. I thought since you said you were alone...I missed you.” I crossed my arms defeated and looked down at the floor. Maybe what I did was out of line. Fuck this isn’t a relationship where you can send nudes Y/n! These were dick appointments, that's it!

I sighed defeated, “ If you wanna reschedule that’s fine… It was out of line—” I turned away from him only to be yanked up against him.

 His hot breath fanning against mine, a bruising hold on both my arms.” Why would I pass up the opportunity to punish you.” Just like that, I was putty in his hands. Like always. He made sure to forcefully take the oversized shirt off throwing it somewhere, to reveal what the photos told him. He watched as I stood flustered, shocked, and blush red. His hot gaze is enough to get me going. He sat at the edge of my bed and pulled out a small box from his leather jacket. It was black. He signed for me to get closer so I did. I towered over him slightly as he handed the box a smirk on his face. I eyed the box suspiciously.

“ Open it.” He urged so I did. My mouth fell open slightly. It was a red butt plug. What the fuck. I looked at him dead in the eyes.

“ I know you said you weren’t ready for anal...but I thought this would help ease us in. Literally.” he chuckled darkly. I was speechless. It was hot, and uncomfortable to think that it would end up...there. I sighed shakily. He caught on to my nervousness.

“ Remember at any time you can stop me.” He reassured, making me smile softly. Besides the sex, he always was my friend never pushing me to do anything I didn’t want. I nodded and took it and placed it by the nightstand where the lube and other stuff were. I walked back easing my way to straddle his lap and take his leather jacket off. Our gaze is soft and friendly for now.

“ I’m sorry again you know.” I sighed my hands working on any knots in his shoulders, his eyes fluttered shut as he relaxed under her. Deep down Sweet pea would be a sub for her if it meant it started with massages. 

“ It's fine.” He sighed, seeing him vulnerable for a brief moment made me ache and even more wet than I was. I pushed my body fully up against his, arms draping around his neck. His eye opened to meet my dark ones. My hips grounded down on him, “ I’m ready.” I sighed, that was enough for Pea to grab her hips forcefully gripping them down to make her feel the hard-on she caused. 

“ You made me hard in the fucking truck,” He made one of his arm free to hold her chin forcefully to make her stare at him while he spoke. Y/N yelled softly as she tried to keep her eyes from rolling back as he rutted his hips towards her. “ I couldn’t get out of the truck, I had to drop them off.” 

“ That was the plan daddy.” I moaned, making him growl in frustration. He pushed me off him, hand in my hair as he yanked me to the mirror where I took the pictures. It was a long full body mirror by my bed. His body flush against my back, one arm still in my hair and the other racking his ringed up fingers against my skin. 

“ You’re gonna look at yourself, and learn why you don’t tease me.” His lips on my neck as his finger roughly yanks the lace bra cup down, making me squeal. The electric feeling as his cold finger massaged my breast made me dizzy.

“ Pea…” I sighed rolling my eyes back, head limp against his shoulder. His grip on my hair wakes me from my bliss.

“ Look!” He barked, making my goosebumps jump out, his neck went back to work. His arm slowly going back but skimming down to where I needed him the most. I knew he wasn’t going to give it to me that easy. “ Please...Daddy” I whimpered as he barely grazed the skin on my thighs. He bit harder on my neck as he pushed his leg between my thighs, hand dipping into my core. I let out a shaky gasp as he went straight for my clit.

“Fuck.” I gasped watching as his fingers teasingly moved circles around it. My hand reached to cover his for support, for once he didn’t intervene.  And the other reached to his hard on that was covered but prominent against me. Pea couldn’t help but let her touch him, he watched as her hooded eyes watched as he slowly touched her. But the moment her hand gripped his hand he yanked it away and tsked her. He walked away from her taking his shirt off.

I stood stunned and breathless, the ache only growing by the minute. I turned around and followed him by removing the rest of the bra. And pried at his muscular back. Kissing it softly wrapping my arms around him.

“ You just don’t know when to keep your hands to yourself now.” The ribbon in his hands as he turned around. Fuck. With one shove I was on the bed with Pea crawling up to tie my wrists together above my head. 

“ C’mon Pea…” I whined as my hips bucked towards him for any friction, fuck was it painful. He smirked down at me.

“ You  know that's not how it works right?” I groaned in annoyance. His face came down close to hers as his hands wrapped around her thighs and as pulling her flush against him again. 

“ Pea kiss me or so help me—” His mouth was instantly on mine, nothing fluff about it. open , hot kisses as my hips wildly looked for him. His hand suddenly smacked my ass leaving a deep red print.

“ Shit-” I cried against him, his mouth moving against my jaw, his tongue leaving a hot trail down to the valley of my bare breasts. I resisted against the restraints as his ringed fingers and mouth attacked my breast.

“ Your squirming even before I touch you, you're so needy.” He laughed against my skin. I blushed madly arching my back towards him.” Answer.” He hissed, as his hand rubbed hard and rough circles against my clit. I bit my lip trying to talk.

“ Yes..ugh...Daddy..fuckkk” I moaned loudly as his pattern quickened and his finger flicked my nipple. The overstimulation nearly brought me to the edge, he watched me from above how breathlessly I squirmed, threw my head back and clamped my thighs around him. Just as I felt the brink, he pulled away. I whimpered out in pain, feeling empty again. Sweet Pea made sure to leave any mark all over her body avoiding her whimpers and cries for his actions. His fingers plunging into her abruptly, at a vicious pace that made her scream. He made sure to stare right at her as she exchanged glances to his actions and his wicked smile. “ You want hard, rough? That’s what you want right?” he spat gritting his teeth as he felt her wall clench and contract against his fingers.

“ Oh my goddd…. YES!” I screamed staring deep into his evil eyes, “ Daddy harder please!” My head thrashing back as I felt my legs convulse and shake. I wanted to come so bad, and the wet sounds that came out of me were not helping. My fingers were placed on the covers as they remain tied up above me. “ Not yet.” He whispered softly against the shell of my ear as he stopped again. I shivered as my body tried to recover from another withdrawal, eyes shut in pain as my clit throbbed from lack of release.” Please….Please.” Tears at the brim of my eyes, searching into his for a little bit of mercy. He only ignored me and turned me around chest into the mattress and ass up. The lube coming in contact with my asshole sending a jolt up my spine. At this point anything that would give me some pleasure was acceptable. Pea made sure to adjust my wrist and tie them again against my back, and my face on the mattress. He then kissed my head as the tip of the plug made contact with me. I hissed softly as he slowly pushed it in. Surprisingly, It wasn’t as bad as I thought. 

I sighed as I felt somewhat full as it sat in me. “ Damn baby.” He mumbled, I could practically picture his face. All flustered and vulnerable at her position and gleaming core. 

Not long after his hands held my tied arms in a tight grip as he grinned against me.” mhm.’” one hand constantly smacking my ass till my buttcheek felt numb. I really won’t be able to sit tomorrow. “ You're such a slut begging for me… for this… Can’t even wait till I get home.” He seethed as his rough jeans rubbed perfectly against me and the plug. 

I moaned loudly, “ Pea fuck me please! Anything I promise you anything but fuck me please!” I yelled in frustration as I tried wiggling my hips to get any extra friction. He grunted in defeat and practically sighed in relief as I heard his belt unbuckled and the bed suddenly becoming light behind me. I tried looking around to see him, but only his hand made sure to push me further into the mattress. “ You wanted this, so take it!” He roughly shoved himself into me with no warning, a loud gasp ripping through me followed by a choked moan. His size always felt like the first time, painful and blissful at the same time. “ FUCK!” Pea moaned as he steadied his hips as he made sure to feel that moment, being deep in her, ass up, red ribbon around her wrists like a present, shit it was perfect. He pulled out and back in bruisingly fast, hands back on her arms.

“ Shit shit shit!” I screamed out my eyes shut as he hit the right spot constantly but grazed the plug as he pulled out.

“ You look….so gorgeous right now fuck.” He grunted as Pea focused on not coming anytime soon but rather feeling every inch tighten around him. Just for him. Only making his grip on her arms terribly harder. The pain and pleasure as he bruisingly fucked her from behind only made her squeeze her eyes shut, her mouth wide as she felt the familiar knot about to explode. 

“ I’m going to cum! Holy shit please Pea let me cum pleaseee!” I begged as Pea made sure to rub hard and fast fingers against her clit. 

“ Come on baby, take it, squirt for me baby.” The profanities and the way his voice and body worked around her did just what he asked.

“ Shit shit shit!” I cried out as my legs shook and fluid leaked out around Pea’s finger.

“Fuck.” He growled and made sure to keep fucking her through her orgams, nearing her to the next one. 

I screeched softly and huffed as he kept his bruising pace, “ Pea oh my gawd Don’t stop! Fuck me!” Sweet Pea practically came then and their but pulled out to control himself. 

“ No, NO!” I cried as my wrist withered to pull him back. Pea shakily sighed, stroking himself softly. He watched as she squirmed and whimpered trying to be set loose. He untied her wrist sending a buzzing feeling of excitement through her as she propped herself only for a second. Pea made sure to pull her around by her hair. “ You really are prettier all tied up, huh.” He teased. 

I widened my eyes, “ No! Not again!” I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him into a kiss and flush against my hot skin. The feeling of his skin against her finger pads was heavenly. It was rare to be able to touch him, and when he let her, she loved it. Her mouth on his hungrily as her hips bucked against his hard on. Pea grunted against her mouth, his hands moving from her breast where he quickly pulled on her red nipples and down to her bruised hips. “ You won’t be able to walk for a week baby girl.” He whispered as he teasingly rubbed against my swollen nerve. A weak moan only for a response. He slipped in easily and then faster, digging his mouth onto my neck as I scratched his shoulders. “ Ohhh, Yes….Mmmm” I moaned wrapping my legs around his waist as he pounded so hard into me, practically into the mattress. 

Pea made sure to come up to see her face as she practically cried at her second painful release. Seeing her silently watch in awe as her eyes rolled back, it brought him to the edge.

“ Come on cum with me, Come on!” Pea yelled his chin forcing her to look at his furious face, only adding to her orgasm. Pea made sure to keep his pace as she yelled his name and tears ripped through her as she threw her head back. As she saw white, Pea went balls deep and stayed in as he came in her, his groans and moans muffled into her neck. She made sure that with the little bit of energy to wrap her fingers into his damp hair, easing him down from his own high. Pea made sure to pin her arms away from him, scaring her slightly at his abrupt move.

“ I’m not done with you.” He made his way down to her core, instantly going to her almost numb and in pain clit. 

I hissed as his lips and tongue wrapped around me. I didn’t have the strength to cum again, I almost wanted to call the safe word just for my sake to rest but the way Sweet Pea looked up at her, in between her thighs. Pea knew exactly how to make her cum and he wanted to see her cum underneath him all over again. “ Shit...Fuck.” My hands grabbed handfuls of the sheets as I rocked my hips against his hot mouth and tongue. 

To make matters worse, he purposely groaned and hummed against me, I never felt like cuming so fast in the times being with Pea. Each time he knew her better enough to get her on edge in seconds. His hand made sure to hold down painfully hard on her hips as she chanted his name.

“ Yes...Yes yes yes!” I back arched and watched in awe as his tongue did wonders, followed by his thumb that flicked and rubbed so hard I lost track of time. Pain ripped through my abdomen to my core, ready for a painful orgasm. It was so much. “ Pea! I can’t I-” I cried and sure enough my body cracked under him, fluid squirting out as tears fell out and high pitched moans echoed into the room. Pea pulled himself up to watch her tears stained cheeks, suddenly nervous it was too much. “Hey, Are you okay?” His soft voice made me crane my neck back to see his worried face, with a wet face may I add. I smiled weakly and wiped his cheek with my thumb. “ You are unbelievable Sweet Pea.” He smirked laying next to her as they both sighed. 

I was exhausted not wanting to move or speak. Just stare at the ceiling and acknowledge how great her body felt, for now. 

“ Wait I have to take something—” His hand pulling my ass to the side, “ Relax, I don’t wanna hurt you.” I scoffed but was cut short by the feeling of the plug coming out. I hissed softly and turned back around on my back.

“ I should get you a bath running before I leave.” Pea said as he kissed my semi wet cheek and got up to find his clothes. I watched as he pulled on his underwear and jeans and disappeared into the bathroom. I was smiling. At him. Here I was catching feelings over something we told ourselves was nothing serious. I pushed myself up to distract myself only to be extremely sore. I tried propping myself up to walk to the bathroom only to fall on my knees in pain. He really fucked me till I couldn't walk. I burst out laughing making Sweet Pea walk back into the room extremely confused. 

“ Come help me up weirdo!” He went over to pick her up but just ended up carrying her bridal style. He laughed as she groaned but laughed also. 

This was nice, their company and well the sex also. Sweet knew that it was temporary and he reminded himself that everyday. Deep down he was a romantic, and he knew his soulmate was out there. But for now he just wanted to explore himself a little more and who else to help than his best friend. He hated leaving her after, something in him told him to stay, but he was enough of a gentleman to know that staying would only send mixed signals and ruin everything. So he stuck to the plan.

“ Well, I’m gonna head out, and I’m sorry if I went overboard—” Pea flinched as he saw the bruises show up around my arms and legs, the water instantly healing some pain. I sighed sinking deeper into the tub. Pea kneeled next to me, waiting for some goodbye gesture. I looked at him smiling, “ It was great, plus I'll be fine...but,” I held his hand that rested on the side of the tub. “ Can you stay...to hang out?” I watched his reaction change from content to flustered. It’s insane that friendship intimacy was weird to us but seeing each other naked wasn’t. 

He coughed and looked at his clock, “ I don’t know—”

I patted his hand, “ Pea it’s fine, it was just and offer.” I casually played it off, waiting for his response even though it did hurt to see him turn me down. He stood up and sighed in defeat. “ How about this. I have to do some stuff to do with fangs for a night delivery, and if everything goes smoothly...I’ll crash with you.” He looked down at my surprised face. He chuckled at my silent response.

 “ Oh- Yeah sure! Sounds good.” I cooly said somehow suddenly interested in the bath water. 

“ Alright see you later!” I said before leaving entirely with the sound of the door closing, I sat in the water somehow happy but nervous that he easily accepted my offer. I giggled to myself, but was cut short by my sore body.

“ Fuck, this is more painful than my Serpent initiation trial.” I mumbled softly. 

Somehow I managed to get out of the bath, with wobbly legs, and into my soft pj pants and tank top. It was 8 pm, my eyes sleepy and my body tired. I laid in the wrinkled up bed, forgetting that someone would be coming back. 

[i-am-extremely-mad]

It shocks me over and over again when I come across blogs that extremely aggressively, absolutely HATE LOK, Korra, korrasami and practically every character and aspect of the show. I have to share this horror with others because these are just a small part of the awful views from that blog (supposedly feminist and lesbian), interestingly, attitudes about LOK and korrasami were mostly positive or at least neutral in 2014-2015, and then abruptly changed sometime in the middle of last year which coincides with LOK finally being on Netflix, I will probably respond to if I am in the mood for a toxic discussion...

Anonymous asked:

“I think it's a bit hypocritical that you hate Korra's personality and not Zuko's.Zuko is arrogant asshole bitch and you like him. I never see you criticizing him like you do with Korra”

“Zuko is an arrogant asshole bitch, but he’s not annoying. Korra is an arrogant asshole bitch and is very annoying. Hope this helps!”

#asks#anti lok#going to absolutely BLOW YOUR MIND to find out that the quality of the media itself determines how much I like a character#as well as the quality of the characters development#also this isn't math there is no transitive property for liking characters#some hit and some don't#get over it#Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

“As soon as I heard “I’m the Avatar; you’ve gotta deal with it!” I knew I would fucking hate that show. I naturally hate people who are like that. If Bryke was still smart they would have thought to make Korra’s personality more like water similar to Aang with air, not “haha fuck you, I’m avatar haha!”

“LOL YEP like 3 seconds into the show you hear that, and understand EXACTLY what the rest of LOK is going to be like. Not only is a jarring contrast to Aang and every other Avatar we’ve seen, it directly contradicts everything we know about the Avatar cycle from ATLA. All the other Avatars have to be TOLD that they are the Avatar, and have to work hard to master their non-native elements. Korra just naturally being able to bend 3 elements when she’s like 5 tells you everything you need to know about how the creators of LOK went about making their show: worldbuilding and logic don’t matter, it’s all about flashy visuals and one-time gags.”

#asks#anti lok#DISGOSTING#'meh meh if korra was a MAN you wouldn't call her arrogant' I absolutely would#korra being a dickhead is not okay just because she's a woman#Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

“Korrasami is shit,a joke, boring af, they don't have romantic chemistry, asami acts like a big sister towards korra. there I said it for you.”

“OOP! Well, I certainly didn’t say it!”

#asks#anti lok#but ur right#ACTUALLY I disagree on one point#asami doesn't act like a sister to korra#they act like work colleagues that only ever hang out during their lunch break#they act like very distant cousins that only talk on facebook#they act like people that share mutual friends but don't know each other that well#okay I'll stop#Anonymous

“Korra: 1/10, I will see myself out the door to be CANCELLED! Not only was her character very unlikeable, but the way fandom reared up to defend this (quite frankly) terrible character under the guise of “wokeness” when it is clear that the creators sprinkled in just enough ~representation~ to get brownie points without actually saying anything meaningful is just EMBARRASSING. Korra defenders are being manipulated by those cishet white men they hate so much, and they do it gladly. Anyway, I find Korra boring, disrespectful, and underdeveloped.”

#asks#ask game#character ask game#anti lok#SORRY YALL LOK'S CHARACTERS ARE BAD#also korra gives off 'mean feminine lesbian who calls gnc women slurs' vibes#korra and asami would bully me and then call me a homophobe#and kuvira gives off such heterosexuelle vibes I simply CANNOT with her#thetpot

“IT’S SO VILE! Korra is barely even an active character in her own show! She’s just a vessel that gets beaten and broken over and over again. She doesn’t actually get to LEARN from any mistakes that she makes, she’s just forced to recover from these external traumas that have literally nothing to do with her.

Ugh, tbh I feel NOTHING for korrasami. Korra and Asami don’t speak about anything except Mako for most of the show, and only really start actually TALKING to each other in the last half of season 4. None of Korra’s friends really spend that much time together throughout the runtime of the show tbh.

But yeah, it’s frustrating that people tout LOK as this amazing show staring a queer WOC, but the people making the show HATED Korra and HATED developing her in a meaningful way.”

Anonymous asked:    

“Korra was like Zuko at the beginning of the show, now she in season 4 is like Aang. Bryke gave kuvira a redemption bc team avatar was missing a Zuko. now she is the new zuko and not Korra.”

Sorry, my brain short circuited. You think Korra???? Is like Aang???? That might be the most offensive thing I have ever received in this askbox.

#asks#anti lok#KORRA IS LIKE AANG#IN WHAT UNIVERSE#HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY BOY LIKE THIS#I WON'T STAND FOR IT#Anonymous

“also lock me in lesbian prison but korrasami is WEAK! they didn’t have a single conversation that wasn’t about mako for 3.5 seasons!!! they had zero moments together to indicate that asami would be the only person that korra would write to!!! yall tricked me, I thought I was getting some gay shit.

#anti lok#I SAID WHAT I SAID#korra had more chemistry in her one scene with opal than she ever did with asami”

Anonymous asked:

What do you think of korrasami?

no thank u, I don’t feel like being called a homophobe by a bunch of straight women today.

#asks#anti lok#a hornet's nest I will not be swinging at on this Monday lmao#I hate everything in lok you do the math#I'm sure I've talked about my issues with korrasami on my blog SOMEWHERE#have fun!#Anonymous

Not me seeing posts giving LOK and Korrasami credit for queerness in animation when Steven Universe, Adventure Time, and She-Ra were doing it unapologetically, openly, right from the very beginning....

#anti lok#TESTING MY GODDAMN PATIENCE#if korrasami was individually influential for you as a queer woman that's FINE#but do NOT give this insane credit to the cishet writing team of LOK!!!#not when these other shows were made by ACTUAL QUEER WOMEN#DISGOSTING

Anonymous asked:

if ur looking for an actual well-written canon wlw pairing in the atla verse, there’s rangshi. fc yee works so hard to fix all of bryke’s garbage, bless his soul. i have no hope for anything avatar studios related, but if fc yee is in the writer’s room, then there may be a very marginal chance that the stuff coming out is at least somewhat worthy of being associated with atla. the worldbuilding that he’s done in rise of kyoshi is insane.

I have heard good things about the Kyoshi novels! Unfortunately, LOK is the drop of shit that has poisoned the entire water supply. All ATLA-related works are going to have to be LOK compliant now, which is so deeply restrictive and contradictory to what I liked about ATLA in the first place. I feel like pre-canon stuff is safer (and again, heard AMAZING things about what FC Yee has done with a pre-ATLA world), but I guess I’m too cynical to get really invested in any more ATLA stuff anymore.

#asks#atla#anti lok#put Nat in charge of Avatar Studios and THEN we'll talk#finally get the thotty aang and amazing worldbuilding THAT WE DESERVE#Anonymous

I know, this was awful to see...

[latulasbian-1]

what are your thoughts on kankri? personally i never understood the appeal and im interested to hear your take since he Was on the b tier of your list

OK! Sorry for lateness but I only noticed your question at like 2:00 AM and needed a full tank of brain-gas to be able to convey my thoughts even semi-coherently. 

So Kankri’s a weird one, probably one of the most convoluted and self-contradictory characters in Homestuck. Its fitting given he’s pretty much a one note joke and hussie’s one-note joke characters actually wind up being either his most oddly complex (see: equius and feferi for instance) or most sympathetic (see: Nepeta). Kankri’s a bit of both imo, though I wouldn’t call him a favorite for me. 

Kankri’s characterization is built almost entirely on one fuckin’ note: “LOL AIN’T TUMBLR SJWs FUNNY AND ANNOYING!?!?!?”. If you disagree with this then I don’t even know what to tell you, bc everything from his style of long-winded monologues (that wind up running up on Hussie Ableism Moments bc in-narrative his infodumping is supposed to be annoying???) to his inability to take social cues to his supposed-to-be-interpreted-as-excessive use of trigger warnings to his unapologetic killjoy attitude to his supposed hypocrisy/”privilege” are literally all just a fucking layer cake of anti-SJW stereotypes. This is where the issue of how the fandom interprets Kankri kicks in, as people’s opinions on him (aside from a few diehards) tend to scale from “DAWWW CUTE WIDDLE UPPITY BEANBOY” to “fucking annoying neoliberal”. For the matter, neither of these are intended by Hussie, while he did design him to be cute he wasn’t meant to be hateable for leftist homestuck fans as a (neo-)liberal or faux leftist. Hussie just designed him after everyone hussie found annoying in the social justice community primarily on tumblr. Even his political monologues, though not WITHOUT hypocrisy and bullshit, tend to actually skew towards “pretty fucking reasonable hussie just thinks people being upset by bad stuff is stupid”.  

Now, people cite Kankri being ableist in his criticism of certain other dancestors for ~conforming to stereotypes~, which yes from an in context scenario is pretty fucking bad. If someone IRL is dealing with their disability in a way you think seems pretty stereotypical keep that thought to yourself. HOWEVER, AS ONE OF THE MOST CRUCIAL POINTS TOWARDS KANKRI BEING GENERALLY SYMPATHETIC, WE GET THE META ELEMENT. Hussie, in writing a hypocritical mansplainer who goes on and on and on about everything thats politically incorrect about the people around him, practically beat-for-beat replicates talking points PEOPLE HAVE USED TO CRITICIZE HOMESTUCK ITSELF. YES! MITUNA’S PRESENTATION AS A CHARACTER IS 100% UNAMBIGUOUSLY AWFUL IN ITS PORTRAYAL OF PEOPLE WITH BRAIN INJURIES AND MENTAL DISORDERS. DAMARA IS A RACIST STEREOTYPE SO BAD HUSSIE SHOULD GET THROWN IN JAIL. INCEST IS BAD. If ANYONE in homestuck should’ve pulled the meta knowledge shit in post-canon, kankri would’ve been a WAYYYYYY better candidate than dirk for it, especially since kankri seems halfway to realizing he’s fictional just by political analysis of the story he’s in! Kankri seems to exist at the apex of Hussie’s confusion about fandom, given he’s baffled enough by people being obsessed with his work yet so intensely negative that he can only seem to think of them as obsessive manchild wierdos with no sense of rational thought. As someone who myself unironically loves Homestuck and yet have an entire third of my brain dedicated to ripping it apart on an ethical level, I can see some of myself in that turtleneck’d contrarian. Just because someone is a fan of something doesn’t mean they will or should unthinkingly defend it from all recourse. This is something homestuck as a whole struggles with, I think back to the aspect or extended zodiac quiz where one of the questions amounted to “someone is talking shit about a show you like, how do you respond” and there wasn’t even an answer for “actually listen to what they’re trying to say and consider if they could be right”. Kankri is a symbol of sorts for those critical enjoy-ers, in a way. A stupid silly not-that-meaningful way, but a way. I think people should reclaim him. 

I’ve touched on it a bit before, but the last main sympathizing aspect of kankri for me (aside from personality things like his frankly unearned patience with a friend group that entirely fucking hates his guts) is a trait share by almost all the dancestors: Hussie’s fucking disturbing use of mental illness & psychiatric disorders with them. Between Kankri’s unwillingness to observe common social cues, his overtly poised and practiced manner of speaking, his obsession with using trigger warnings to warn off confrontation in leu of not just speaking his mind with everything, his tendency to cling to certain articles of clothing for long periods of time, his implied difficulty taking care of himself physically, and the fucking insulting “mom-friend useless-manchild-who-needs-nannying” dynamic he has with Porrim, he comes off (intentionally or no) as a beat-for-beat embodiment of an autistic person as seen through Hussie’s tropey and horribly ableist worldview. This is a common trait he shares with both Aranea and Mituna, as well as many of the other dancestors to lesser degrees (many of them, like Mituna, also have OTHER mental disorders flat-out-stated in such a way that makes their depiction just fucking confused and bad). For me, and for at least SOME other people, it makes unbiased critical reactions to them damn near impossible. They deserve better than how hussie can write them. In a lot of ways I have friends like Kankri, and Hussie’d almost fucking certainly find them just as embarrassing and annoying as he meant for Kankri to be. 

So yeah, Kankri isn’t my favorite by any means but i don’t feel like i can or should condemn him. He’s fun. I’d watch his video essays. 

And this isn’t even BEGINNING to touch on how much I loathe Porrim as an example of “good cool fun feminists that hussie can sexualize!” And her more open bisexuality than other trolls being both a tool for fetishization by Hussie and a fucking skin-crawling thing to use as a contrast for Kanaya’s status as either “the only confirmed lesbian in homestuck (until postcanon showed rose was a lesbian too)” or “the only lesbian troll in existence ever bc thats totally how sexuality would work with aliens” (sorry if you ascribe to the “all trolls are bisexual bc they’re supposedly binormative as a get-out-of-jail-free card for hussie’s hetero-ass ship tease shit” then. well get better soon) 

(seriously though everyone who pulls the “kanaya is the only lesbian alternian” shit owes every lesbian 100 dollars) 

[qqueenofhades]

If Cursed had asked you, a medieval historian, what to do, what would you have told them?

Ahaha. Ahaha. Hah. Full disclosure, I know/knew absolutely nothing about the show apart from reading this horrible article, but methinks, enough to get a sense of it. And even without the author of this article wildly making up their Blackadder version of history (as my dearest and oh so correct @oldshrewsburyian​ put it yesterday), the quotes from the actors/producers/etc are just... they are just.... SO BAD.

Starring:

"But when we got into filming and the brutality, the mud, the bugs and the blood, I thought, 'I'm not sure I could handle this in reality'.

"I have a feeling I'd get sick and die pretty quick."

"I'd be dead," adds Frank Miller, very matter of fact.

"I mean it was a time of wild plagues and disease and they didn't have much use for people who do the kind of stuff I do."

Ah yes, medieval life. Mud, blood, bugs, and death. “Times of wild plague and disease,” unlike today, where we never have a problem with plague at all. And I’m sorry, the medieval world had no use for artists??? What are you even SMOKING MY DUDE MY BRO MY PAL (and if you don’t know this, WHY ARE YOU MAKING A MEDIEVAL SHOW SUPPOSED TO BE “ACCURATE?”) Have you LOOKED at ONE SINGLE MEDIEVAL MANUSCRIPT? HAVE YOU WALKED INTO A MEDIEVAL CATHEDRAL AND LOOKED AT THE STAINED GLASS WINDOWS? LOOKED AT ANY JEWELRY? ANYTHING?????

(Okay I gotta pace myself, there’s a lot to yell at here and it’ll take a while.)

"If I was living in that time, I think I would want to be a witch but you would stink," Devon Terrell, who's taking on the role, laughs.

As would most people, with a lack of basic sanitation and plumbing which meant human waste was often thrown out close to where you lived.

"And I like a good fairy tale but I wouldn't say I was longing for a time that was much less scientific. I'd probably get killed for heresy or something. I'm not great with authority or religious oppression and that sort of stuff. So, yeah, I don't think I'd fare too well."

There’s just... I don’t know where to even.... /SCREAMS

(And I even cut out the especially face-palming quote from the article about “thousands of people burning for heresy” in the 11th/12th century. “Much less scientific,” well, Roger Bacon’s brazen head just called AND IT THINKS YOU’RE A MORON, DEVON.)

The woman playing Morgana Le Fay talks about your life being “very short” and getting drowned as a witch and whatever Bad Guy Du Jour talks about having no dentists or medical care. We get the picture: they.... really did not do their homework. I’m not sure they even touched Google. So basically, we’d need to start by burning everything down and then asking if really, truly, do we NEED to make this adaptation. There are EIGHT THOUSAND MILLION GODFORSAKEN RETELLINGS OF ARTHUR/THE ROUNDTABLE RIGHT NOW. NOBODY NEEDS ANOTHER ONE! EVEN FOR WHATEVER PSEUDO-FEMINIST TAKE YOU SEEM TO BE TRYING TO PUT ON THIS ONE! ENOUGH! ENOOOOUGH! THINK OF SOMETHING DIFFERENT! THERE ARE SO MANY MEDIEVAL ROMANCES OUT THERE THAT DON’T GET MADE!!!

For example, you know what I would suggest? Bisclavret. Where is my lavish beautifully designed historical-medieval-fantasy queer werewolf romance, I ask you? (Answer: just like that novel I stumbled upon yesterday that decided to make some random Vatican maidservant into Cesare Borgia’s ~truest and purest love~, y’all are too cowardly to do it right.) YOU KNOW WHO WOULD LOVE THIS? THE GAYS! THE GAYS WOULD LOVE IT, PATRICIA! We have a central queer love story (Bisclavret and the king). We have a distinct physical and geographical setting (12th-century France). THE GODDAMN THING WAS WRITTEN BY A WOMAN! (Marie de France.) We could develop the character of Bisclavret’s wife and give her backstory and into a sympathetic and complicated but ultimately redeemed antiheroine, blackmailed by the male/patriarchal/heterosexual villains of the establishment, if y’all REALLY want to get into some subversive queerfem medievalism and not your little weaksauce Nimue in her polyester corset. We could LITERALLY MAKE A QUEER MEDIEVAL WEREWOLF ROMANCE WRITTEN BY A WOMAN!!! HOW ABOUT THAT YOU DINGDONGS?!!

You could decorate the sets beautifully by, I don’t know, LOOKING AT THOSE MEDIEVAL ARTISTS WHO SUPPOSEDLY DIDN’T EXIST. You could bring in other medieval monsters, such as walking corpses, and have brawny young men beating them to death with shovels (as various medieval chroniclers matter-of-factly report on). You could do something besides the TIRED ASS “superstitious peasants think woman with vague evidence of a personality must be a witch!!” You could ground your story in the vivid and colorful politics of 12th-century France and the underground queer life for people in Paris (MAKE PETER THE CHANTER THE FROLLO-ESQUE VILLAIN, I’M JUST SAYING!) EXPLORE THE METAPHOR OF QUEERNESS VIS A VIS MONSTROSITY WITH BISCLAVRET THE WEREWOLF! You could STOP ACTING LIKE GAME OF THRONES IS HISTORY AND “DIRTY PEOPLE IN TUNICS GETTING KILLED MEANS IT’S MEDIEVAL!!!”

/takes a deep breath

But alas. As established, they are Cowards. So, if we absolutely HAD to be lumbered with another goddamn Arthur adaptation:

STOP ACTING LIKE SOME RANDOM VAGUELY 12TH-CENTURY SETTING IS ~tHE hISToriCAl ArThUr!!~ IF HE EXISTED IT WAS IN LIKE 5TH-CENTURY POST ROMAN BRITAIN AND A) WE ALREADY HAD THE TEDIOUS BIG BUDGET “ACCURATE KING ARTHUR” WITH KEIRA KNIGHTLEY DRESSED IN WHATEVER THAT WAS, I’M GAY SO I’M NOT COMPLAINING THAT MUCH BUT ALSO ACCURATE MY CYNICAL LESBIAN BACKSIDE!

....where was I...

Ah yes. Post-Roman 5th-century Britain is A VERY DIFFERENT SETTING from the random-ass mishmash of “medieval” tropes you people seem to want to throw in. Or ANOTHER IDEA: junk the idea that “King Arthur” is ever going to be a remotely accurately represented historical concept, and just make it lavish, fantastic, magical, dark, and compelling without yoking yourself to the fuckin’ BORING ASS “must add mud and blood and suffering and misogyny for More Realism!” It’s FANTASY, TREAT IT LIKE FANTASY AND NOT HISTORY LIKE “A FAIRYTALE!” HOW ABOUT THAT IDEA?!?! AND MAYBE STOP ACTING LIKE YOU HAVE PRETENSIONS TO “tHe wAy it ReALLy wAs” because we have established YOU DO NOT!!!

(God Game of Thrones is the WORST, and you KNOW they’re doing this trying to be GoT-lite, and I.... /mutters incoherently)

OR MAKE ANY OTHER OF THE ARTHURIAN ROMANCES IF YOU REALLY HAVE TO DO A CAMELOT STORY! THERE ARE LIKE EIGHTY MILLION OF THEM! PICK A SIDE ONE WITH CHARACTERS THAT YOU CAN DO FRESH RATHER THAN THE ARCHETYPES THAT HAVE BEEN DONE TO DEATH!!! ACTUALLY ASK A MEDIEVAL LITERATURE EXPERT AND A MEDIEVAL HISTORIAN FOR ADVICE BEFORE YOU GET THIS FAR AND EMBARRASS YOURSELVES!!! (OR MAYBE SEVERAL OF THEM!!) ACTUALLY ACT LIKE REPRESENTING THE PAST AS A FULL AND COMPLEX AND BEAUTIFUL PLACE AS WELL AS A DARK AND DANGEROUS ONE CAN STRENGTHEN YOUR STORY AND DISPLAY HUMAN EXPERIENCE MORE ACCURATELY! RATHER THAN “HURR DURR DARK AGES” BECAUSE I AM TIRED!!!

TIRED!!!!

...Anyway. I clearly handled this well. Whew.

[artificialqueens]

Gimme Love, 9/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Sorry for taking so long to upload! I've had a hard week but everything is fine. Here we are - the end! Wanna know something interesting? There was actually going to be more to this story. Like, we were gonna get more flashbacks from when Brie and Juju went to college. There they would meet Tatianna, who was a badass feminist. And she'd be the one to help Brianna with her glow up. But the story was already going on too long and I couldn't fit any of it in.

Also I was going to go down a completely different route for the story. If any of you have actually seen the music video for Gimme Love by Joji, it ends on a more darker tone. And that's how I was gonna do it with this fic as it was based on it. But I just couldn't do it.

So I hoped you guys enjoyed it. I know I didn't get a lot of reads on it, but I'm glad knowing it was recieved by some. Anyway, on with chapter 9!

Major TW's for this chapter: Alcohol, mental health discussion.

2020

It was the day of the pre-party. It was going to be held at my place. I was prepared for possible drunkenness, embarrassing moments, but celebrations of everything we had accomplished. This was something I had worked my ass towards for so long, and it was finally happening.

I smiled, proud that I had finally punched myself in the face (figuratively, of course). I opened my eyes and saw how easy it was to rekindle with Mom. I was scared about seeing her in a few weeks, knowing we'd have to talk about my issues. But I knew now. If I didn't, I would just continue to get worse and worse.

On top of that, the Ed Sheeran problem was over and done with. His team understood fully, and he was set to perform at the launch.

And finally, I would meet Blair again. And it would be different this time. I wouldn't be the shy, insecure teenager she had always seen me as.

However, despite all these promising signs, my smile dropped. I imagined this morning playing out entirely differently.

Jujubee would be the first person to message me. Fuck, she'd probably even break in just to make sure I was up.

None of that happened. I know one should manage their expectations better. But it still hurt.

After two cups of coffee, some soggy cereal and a shower, I tried calling her. It rang a few times but went straight to voicemail mail.

I didn't bother leaving another message. I didn't wanna freak her out.

I probably wasn't helping my case. She probably thought I was relying on her, that she was life support for me.

But that wasn't the case. I mean, I couldn't just stand up and be like, "OK later, bitch," after practically growing up together. How could I just let go of someone I held so dear to my heart?

My eyes travelled across the kitchen, at first only her disappointment during our argument, how I had never seen her so angry.

On the counter, beside the fridge, there was my memory box.

What would Grandpa say in this situation?

Remember how I would write things he'd say to me? Just little bits and pieces of advice as something I could hold on to? I gave it to Mom to put it away for me. It had to be in the box.

I stood up, the stool making a scraping sound along the ground.

But a knock at the door tore my attention away.

Why did I hope it would be her?

Well, because it wasn't out of the ordinary for her to come and visit in the morning. Maybe this was it. I was forgiven.

I rushed to the door with the slight fear that if I wasn't fast enough, I'd miss her.

I unlocked the door and flung it open, a smile on my face, ready to greet her.

5 people were standing there; the decorators. I tried not to let my smile falter as I let them in.

-_-_-_-

8PM and my place had never looked livelier. For my first time hosting a party, it didn't feel like there was much hosting to do.

It felt like any other party I had been to, a room crowded with people dancing or talking to each other.

The music wasn't too loud, so the disorientation wasn't there.

I held back from drinking with the fear of doing something embarrassing, especially around Blair.

My bathroom was still clean when I went to apply a fresh coat of gloss. Good. Nothing to worry about.

I made my way back downstairs to the party, crossing the barrier at the bottom. The only place off-limits to the guests was upstairs. I'd hate to think there would be some people who'd want private time, especially in my bed. It happened at college once.

After a small party in our dorm, I found a couple midst coitus in my bed. Never again, I had said.

"Brianna!"

My head whipped in the direction of the voice, every bit of hope I had inside building up.

"You look stunning." A raven-haired woman approached.

"Thank you," I said in more of a questionable form. My brain couldn't figure out who this was.

"My name is Raja. I'm a writer for Cosmo," that explained it, "I was wondering if I could ask a few questions for a piece I'm doing. It's on the most influential women of the year."

I wanted to say no in the case I missed the arrival of Blair.

As if she read my thoughts, she spoke again. "It won't even be five minutes."

She was right about that. 15 minutes it lasted. We were locked in my bathroom, the four walls making the place feel cramped.

She asked me questions about how I reached this level, my morning routine, and what I put in my hair to make it so voluptuous. And all the while, I just kept fearing that Blair had arrived. That she had searched around for me and left when she couldn't find me anywhere. I would discreetly glance at my watch, hoping too much time didn't pass. But around 5 minutes in, I didn't care for subtlety. Not that Raja noticed. The questions seemed endless.

When she turned her recorder off, she further complimented my outfit. I thanked her, inching my way to the door. This lasted another 3 minutes.

She said I was a tiny woman with a lot of heart. I held back from saying I was a tiny woman with a lot of baggage.

When I finally escaped, I searched the place for Blair, and when I didn't find her, the panic started.

"Did anyone come in in the last 15 minutes??" I asked the workers hanging by the door.

"Yeah, there were 2 people. And I've never seen them around work. Could be anyone, Brie." They said with worry in their tone.

"OK, was one of them a girl? Blonde hair. Around my age?" I questioned further.

They glanced at each other for clarification, then looked back at me and shook their heads.

"Nope. Just two guys." One said.

"Probably on a pussy hunt at their local party." The other said.

"Or dick hunt."

"Or both."

"Nah, how would they even get in?"

Realising this was not Blair they were talking about, I thanked them and excused myself.

So she wasn't here yet. That's fine. Probably just running late.

I gave in and had one glass of champagne. Just to calm my nerves.

And the last person I wanted to see started to approach.

Ed fucking Sheeran. He raised a glass to celebrate and thanked me for the hotel room we paid for. I said it was no problem. And just as he was about to suggest some pictures for his Instagram, I quickly navigated away.

But I was caught by another person who just so happened to be Joey.

"I am so glad you changed your mind about the whole Ed thing. Like...girl…" he sipped his own drink.

"Yeah, it was easier than I thought." I shrugged. "Kinda feel awkward being in his presence now, though."

"I'll distract him if you want. British guys are kinda cute." Joey smirked.

I tsked, cocking my head at him. "Joey, you didn't like the guy a few weeks ago."

"I never said I didn't like him." He smirked.

"I mean, you can try." I rolled my eyes, a small smile appearing on my own face, "don't expect it to go anywhere."

Joey winked and brushed past me, making his way in Ed's direction.

Setting my glass down in my sink, I made my way to the bathroom just to check my lip gloss. A woman couldn't be too careful.

Once inside, I felt cramped again despite being alone. Maybe it was the underlying feeling of worry from being trapped in the room with Raja.

I told myself to breathe but then questioned why I was even doing such an exercise. Everything was fine. Life was good.

Looking in the mirror, my gloss was fine. But I applied a new coat anyway, just a reassurance.

And upon leaving, I set out in search of Blair again. She had to be here, just somewhere lost amongst this large amount of people.

Maybe she found someone else to talk to. Maybe not.

I moved to the balcony, the cool night air a relief.

But she wasn't there either.

I sighed, wanting a cigarette or something. Anything to calm the rising panic I was feeling inside.

I closed the door and moved further into the night, peering over the balcony and out into New York. The twinkling lights were pretty. I took a picture and sent it to my Mom. And in a few seconds, she started calling me.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hi, baby. I just thought I'd see how things are going." She asks, sounding pretty optimistic.

"I mean... it's OK, I guess. A bit crowded at my place right now." I replied.

"You nervous for tomorrow?" I hear the mischief in her voice.

She believed I'm not nervous, that I was a confident, strong woman. But she was wrong. "Of course I am. I mean, we've gone through all the precautions, so it should be fine. But still…"

"Well, baby, I promise you, everything will work out fine. It's you we're talking about."

I smiled, trying to teach my brain to agree with her.

"I would say I'd have a drink for you, but I'm trying to keep away from it tonight." Even though that was a lie.

"Yeah, you don't wanna go do something embarrassing like flashing anyone or whatever." She laughs.

"Wow. I didn't realise that was something I did." I quipped sarcastically.

"How about Jujubee?" I could still hear her smile.

But mine slowly dropped. Fuck, I had no idea. Immediately I stood back from the balcony. "Ugh...yeah, she's fine. She's good."

I moved to the door and looked past the glass at the large number of people. Fuck, I didn't even know if she was inside.

"Am I gonna get to see a picture of your outfits? You two always look like the stars of a party."

"Yeah," I faked a small laugh. "I'll go find her and get a picture. I'm gonna get back inside, OK?"

"No problem, baby. Love you."

"I love you too." I clicked end call and quickly made my way back inside.

How the fuck had I forgotten about her so quickly? Not like she was in my mind that morning or anything.

Now I had to find 2 people. I rushed inside, looking out for both of them. I checked the kitchen, dining area, lounge, the bathroom. Fuck, I even checked upstairs in the case Jujubee was there.

But there was no sign.

Where the fuck was she? Where was Blair?

It was getting harder to hold down the anxiety. Was Jujubee right about Blair? Was this another instance of my childhood crush getting my hopes up and flaking out?

The next drink tray I saw, my hand went straight for another glass. Two wouldn't hurt.

"Hey, you made it!" I heard from the front of the room, by the door.

I quickly downed the champagne and practically ran for it, too afraid to miss who had arrived.

Just as my hopes were quickly up, they fell just as fast. It was just Alex, Joey hugging him at the door.

"Fuck...Fuck...Fuck…" I whispered to myself.

A third glass of champagne found its way into my hand, and in a matter of seconds, it was down the hatch. I grimaced at the taste now, feeling like I could throw up at any second. Was that all just the anxiety, though?

Another bathroom break, I was fixing my gloss once again, scared to ruin my makeup. My hands were trembling. Fuck.

It wasn't stopping.

Back out in the main room, I tried to scan the crowd, standing on my tiptoes to try and see past everyone. It didn't help much.

Despite the music and rambling chatter happening around me, I heard the front door open, my eyes shot in its direction.

I struggled to move past a small group of coworkers, trying to get a good view of the door.

I didn't even get my hopes up this time. And, of course, it wasn't Blair.

Jujubee was right. Blair wasn't coming. Once again, she had led me on to believe I did mean something to her and that she'd give us a chance.

My hand gripped my scalp, turning away from the door. I growled, "Fuck," which didn't go unnoticed.

There was Nina with a hand on my arm. "Are you OK?"

"Yes." I lied so quickly. "I'm fine. Just... it's a little crowded in here," I fidgeted with my hands, "Is Jujubee here?"

"Yeah, you haven't seen her?" Nina raised a brow, rubbing her hand up and down my bicep.

"No." My eyes looked around briefly. "Where is she??"

"I dunno. She's you're best friend." Nina squinted her eyes. She didn't mean to sound accusatory. I guessed she was more concerned.

"She is." I reaffirmed, even though now I wasn't so sure.

"If it helps, the last place I saw her was the kitchen."

"When?"

"Half an hour ago."

I rolled my eyes and groaned. "She could be anywhere."

"Girl, it's fine. Not like we're in a labyrinth. You'll find her eventually." Nina smiled, rubbing my arm again.

I paid her no more heed and hurried towards the kitchen in the hope I'd find her there. But like the rest of my apartment, it was crowded. I stood on my toes again to try and catch a glimpse of black hair.

But there was no sign. Stressed, a shaking hand reached for another champagne. Usually, my tolerance for alcohol was high, but right now, I was feeling it. I was wavy.

In my now weary state of mind, I decided what was the fucking point? Blair had 100% flaked, as per usual, and Jujubee was obviously avoiding me at all costs.

Nina had followed me, taking my hand. "Follow me."

I didn't fight it. She moved to the staircase, pulled back the barrier and let me pass through.

She ushered me to walk up to the top before moving no further.

Turning towards the crowd beneath us, Nina addressed the people with a raised tone. "Can we have your attention, please?"

The people went quiet, beaming up at us.

Nina talked about how much of a good night it was, all while the alcohol was taking me over.

My eyes scanned the crowd, in the final chance of hope, wanting nothing more than to see Jujubee's glowing smile shining up at me.

But I couldn't. Not because I had double vision. But because she was nowhere.

I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing hard out through my nose.

Nina put her hand on my shoulder. And only then did I realise that I had blacked out, missing everything she said. I blinked a few times, trying to clear the film that had glazed my brown eyes.

"But we all wouldn't be here without our leading lady." She smiled warmly. "Everything she's achieved, it's all brought us to this moment. Let's raise a glass to Miss Brianna Caldwell."

Everyone started cheering, only a few raising a toast, the others clapping. My eyes widened, feeling all those eyes on me.

"Hope you have a speech prepared," Nina whispered in my ear.

And me, being the queen of saying just 3 lines and quickly evacuating the scene, decided no. Fuck it. I had something to say.

When the crowd began to settle down, I began to deliver the messiest speech ever.

"Well, funny you should mention achievements, Nina, because, yeah, I'm standing here before you all, having done the impossible. But what does that matter?" I laughed, shrugging. "Yeah, it does matter a whole fucking deal. I mean, look at you all. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't?" I laughed awkwardly again, but as I continued, my smile began to disappear. "Well, sometimes you just want a certain someone to give a shit. And they make you believe that they do. Just for like 5 minutes. And it feels so so fucking incredible. It feels like...like you matter. You're not just plain old Brianna Caldwell. You mean the world to them…" My tone dropped, "And then...you realise you're the most gullible, unaware, stupid fucking idiot in the world. They don't really give a fuck about you. They don't see all the things that you've achieved in life and think…' Wow...What an incredible person.' They just... don't give a fuck about you."

Everybody looked confused, uneasy even, while others giggled. Glad to know I was serving as the entertainment for the night, and I was in the same room as Ed fucking Sheeran.

Then, as if some higher power looked at me with a shaking head, maybe my grandpa, there was a glimmer of light at the back of the room, a flash of movement. And my eyes were drawn to the source.

My heart stopped

There she was. Finally. Blair St. Clair smiling apologetically at the few people who were looking at her. They smiled back as they should. She was breathtaking.

And her eyes moved to where everyone else was looking.

Right at me.

Such a familiar feeling was falling over me.

Everyone else in the room. Gone. Like they just stepped into another world, leaving the two of us in this reality.

She panted, out a breath, like she had run to my place. Impossible, she looked like an absolute angel in her gold wrap dress.

Nina nudged me. I snapped out of my daze, reminded of the whole crowd of people looking up at me with confused stares.

Fuck...what do I say now? How do I backtrack?

"But...you know what?" I started to speak again. "You realise, you're just overthinking again. 'Cause, that's a very on-brand thing for you. Every little incident of the past has taught you to doubt that good things actually can happen to you." My smile was returning. "Because the people who give a shit are there. Because you've done the impossible. And they couldn't be happier to be part of your story." My eyes were moving through the crowd, "Do what makes the ones around you proud, and what makes you fucking proud. And don't let anyone or anything hold you the fuck back. Because you have a purpose."

Thank fuck for the fact everyone started cheering again. I thought I had fucking bombed that I would see a recording of the same speech the following day all over Twitter, along with comments about how dramatic it was.

But it was fine. I saved it. I smiled at everyone and hugged Nina, suddenly overcome with happiness.

"Fuck you for not telling me you were gonna drag me up here," I whispered in her ear.

"Well, if I had asked you in the first place, you would have said no, honey." Nina grinned.

We pulled apart, and my eyes went back to the front door. I smiled, expecting to see Blair. But she had vanished. Fuck, I hadn't imagined her, right?

I tried to carefully make my way down the stairs without tripping, ready to look for her once again.

And upon reaching the bottom, Joey grabbed my hand and pulled me close, "someone on the balcony requires your attention."

He winked, and the butterflies in my belly went mad.

She was playing games with me. Not a very Blair St Clair thing to do, but the thought excited me.

I hurried to the balcony, ready to feel that cool air on my skin, her warm body pressed against mine.

And just as I was passing through the doors, feeling the cooling breeze, I stopped dead in my tracks.

I froze.

This wasn't what I expected; seeing her standing there, only noticing how radiant she looked in her orange suit dress.

Fuck. It felt so long since I had last seen her.

But it had been only a few days.

"Hi, Juju," I spoke quietly.

"Hey," she inhaled her cigarette, looking out to the city. If she hadn't replied to me, I would have guessed she failed to realise I was even there.

I swallowed, my eyes glancing down to the ground for a moment. The alcohol in my system was telling me to just turn and leave her alone. She didn't wanna see me.

But my brain said, "you idiot, she obviously invited you out here."

So I moved forward, rubbing the backs of my arms nervously.

I stood beside her, not even daring to look her in the eye. I looked at her orange suit, how Mom would have adored it.

"You invited me out here." I leaned my elbows on the ledge, my gaze following hers over the twinkling lights of New York.

"Yeah, I did." She did offer me a cigarette, but still, she never looked at me.

I shook my head, declining her offer, "Why didn't you just come and ask me yourself?"

"I was dying for a cigarette." She breathed out a stream of smoke. "Also, I've already spent most of the night trying to find you."

I couldn't help but breathe out a laugh through my nose. I glanced at her and was glad to see the smirk appear on those lips.

"I've been trying to fucking find you." I continued to laugh, a crack to my tone, however.

She finally looked at me, turning her body to face me. Her brows were knit together, yet the smirk remained. "No. I," she stressed, "have been trying to find you."

"So...what have I been doing for the past...I dunno, few hours?" I raised a brow. "Did I take 10 hits of acid earlier, or did I not search this place from top to bottom?"

She gave me a hopeless smile like she knew there was no point in arguing. She sucked on the cigarette, offering it to me.

I gave in, taking it from her hand, my fingers touching hers with a light touch. Her eyes moved to our hands as if she was thinking about it too. The feeling like this was a moment we needed to remember.

I took a drag on the cigarette, passing it back. She looked away, briefly turning her gaze to the ground.

But I kept my eyes on her like I'd never get another chance. "I really miss you, Juju," I spoke quietly, almost through a whisper.

She looked at me again. Her mouth moved around slightly yet remained closed like she wanted to say something. But she couldn't figure out what it was she was going to say.

I reached out, took her hand in mine. She seemed taken aback at first. But as my thumb stroked against the soft skin of her hand, a small smile began to resurface.

"There are…" she paused, "things that I would love to say to you. But I just... I'm afraid."

"Is it bad? Come on, Juju. You can tell me. You can tell me anything. I mean, we've grown up together. We've always told each other everything."

She looked apprehensive before taking another drag from her cigarette. And stubbing it out in the ashtray, she turned towards me once again.

She looked ready to say it. Whatever it was. I didn't even know the words yet. But I could tell this would mean a lot to her.

The muffled sound of the many people behind the closed glass doors became clearer, amplified even. Jujubee looked in its direction. My eyes followed.

"Blair," I uttered.

She looked slightly taken aback like she didn't know how to react to seeing us.

Jujubee dropped her hand to her side, a small puff of air leaving her nostrils.

"Jujubee." A smile appeared on Blair's face as she finally approached us both. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

"Likewise." Jujubee nodded slowly. She glanced at me, and I reciprocated.

Before I could figure out her exact emotion. But now, she was hard to read once again. My brows knit together, telepathically questioning what she was feeling.

Jujubee looked back at Blair. "Talk about awful timing though, I was just leaving." Jujubee smiled back at her.

Blair's smile was disappearing. "Oh." She paused, unable to say anything else.

"You don't have to go, Jujubee." I took her hand once again, stroking my thumb over her skin another time, just to remind her of the tender moment we were just having.

She smiled again, but only now, I knew the true words behind it. She pulled her hand away. "Early rise, actually. Gotta get up and ready for the big day tomorrow, right?" She raised her brows at me. Then she looked at Blair, "It was nice seeing you," and then back to me once more, "I hope you have a good night, Brie."

She averted her eyes, not even sparing me another glance. The clacking of her heels was deafening, each step away causing something inside to sting.

"It was nice seeing you again," Blair said before Jujubee could make it through the doors.

I heard a mumbled "yeah, yeah," before Jujubee went back inside.

My gaze still followed her, watching as she navigated the crowd.

"Did she...seem off to you?" Blair asked quietly.

"Yeah," I said without thinking. "I just...I don't know what's wrong with her...I can't...work it out…" my eyes never left the door, hoping Jujubee would reappear.

And feeling Blair's soft hand in mine, I was brought back to reality. I looked at her, seeing the concern in her eyes. Fuck, what a great way to reunite.

"Is something going on?" She asked softly.

I shook my head frantically, "N-No. We're fine...I guess I'm just overreacting. Yeah, she's just been...really busy with everything."

"That's probably true." She shrugged, glancing at the door, "Well, actually, I haven't seen what goes behind the public eye, but I bet it's taxing." Blair was facing me again, her eyes widening briefly.

I let out a small laugh, "Oh, you have no idea." And only then did I get a real chance to take her in. The girl had not changed. Well, call me corny, but she only got more radiant looking.

"I didn't think you'd come," I spoke with a hushed tone.

"Sorry, I was late. I couldn't get a cab for ages." She gave a half-smile. "I guess New York really is that kind of place."

"Fuck, I didn't think about traffic. I could have got you a driver or something. "I started rambling.

"No, it's OK. I'm here now anyway." Her eyes looked me up and down, "you look great, by the way. Pink always was your colour."

Funny how the last time she gave me a compliment, I shut her down. But now, I couldn't bring myself to do so. "Thank you."

I wasn't expecting her to hug me, but she did. It was very welcoming. If I could rate it out of 10, I'd give it a 9. Why the missing point? Cause she pulled away too soon. I needed that time, just to soak up the moment.

My arm was still around her waist when she put a hand to my face.

"It's so good to see you." She beamed, the city lights reflected in her eyes.

"You wanna go upstairs? We'll hear better up there. And it's kinda chilly out here." I hoped she didn't find that creepy or like I was suggesting something because that was not my intention, believe it or not.

I almost jumped, the sound of her sweet voice dragging me out of the storm that was my inner ramblings. "What about your party?" She looked over her shoulder at all the guests behind the closed doors."

"They'll be fine," I said too quickly.

"Oh. Well, if you say so."

She didn't find that weird. Good. I finally pulled my arm from her body but took her hand instead, leading her into the apartment.

I ignored the side glances we received, too focused on her presence behind me. Still so in disbelief that for once, she hadn't flaked out. She really did give a fuck. Walking up the stairs, I only noticed how my vision had cleared. I no longer felt drunk. Had it just been a quick rush of nausea that left me feeling so weary before? Or had the shock of seeing Blair literally walk into my life again shocked me so much to the point it sobered me up?

"Here we go," I said quietly, welcoming her into the upper level.

"Wow, you got another living room up here." Blair's wandering eyes landed on the couch.

"Yeah. The one downstairs is for fucking business and parties. And this one," I gestured to where she was looking, "is for hanging out mostly, and…" Why did I have to be so nervous?

"Hookups?" She looked at me with raised brows and a smirk.

I laughed nervously, moving to the fake fireplace and turning it on. Why didn't I just say no? She probably thought I was a slut or something. "Sit down if you want. Do you want a drink? I'd love a fucking drink right now."

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks, though." She replied, sitting down on the sofa and relishing the feeling of it.

"I need some fucking water." I rushed to the mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle.

Turning back to face Blair, she was looking at me in confusion. "You OK?"

"What?" That was all I thought to reply with.

"You seem kind of…" she paused, trying to figure out her words, "on edge."

"I do?" My hands played with the water bottle.

"Yeah, you've included the word 'fucking' in every sentence since we got up here." She allowed herself to smirk.

Subliminal, Blair. I like it.

Fuck, I dragged my mind out of the gutter and practically rushed to the couch. "Oh, it's just...tomorrow. The nerves, you know." I sat on the other end of the sofa, took a gulp of water and made myself comfortable.

Blair turned to face her body towards me. "Am I wrong, or was Ed Sheeran downstairs??"

"Yeah, he was. It's kind of a long story, actually." I laughed. "You a fan?"

"No, not really," Blair replied.

"Good, me neither. Not really into the whole wedding dance song vibe."

"Me too." She groaned, "If I hear Thinking out loud at another wedding, girl, I'm just...I dunno."

"I get it. 100%"

"Well, enough about him," Blair sat up straight, a bright smile on her face. She laughed for a moment before even speaking, "Fuck, I was just about to ask what you've been up to." She gestured a hand around the room, "I mean, duh."

"Yeah," I returned the laugh, "It's pretty much just that. This project has taken up most of my life over the years."

"God, I remember reading in the paper...fuck, I can't remember the exact title. It was this tiny article just squashed into a corner. 'Scientist seeks to prove the existence of other realities.' Yeah, it was something like that. And…" She shrugged, "I just knew it was you. And, I knew you'd go far."

I felt the blush creep onto my skin. Hearing this from Blair felt otherworldly.

"I mean, I knew before. When you told me at Prom, I knew you'd be able to do it." She added.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"Just hearing how you talked about it. Like, you really believed in yourself. It made me believe too." She swapped around the legs she crossed.

"It was hard. Trying to get people on board with everything. Not a lot of people believed it was even possible in the beginning." I unscrewed the cap from the bottle of water. "And now look at me; I got the government behind this whole thing." I shrugged and took a sip of the water. Before she could go on, I took the conversation on another route. "But what about you? Where are you in life?"

I knew where she was in life. Hadn't I Facebook stalked her not too long before?

"Well, it sounds far fetched, but I'm trying to get into the music scene." Blair sat back in her seat, eyes wandering off, looking at nothing in particular.

"You always did like performing," I noted. "Starting out in the school playgrounds. Soon you'll be playing an Arena with a sold-out show."

Did I sound cheesy? Was I too much of a kiss ass? Because to me, this was honesty. I always thought Blair had the potential to be a famous singer. She had the voice, the looks, style and personality. Who wouldn't want her as part of their label?

Fuck, it only hit me that I could have gotten her a spot to perform at the event.

Blair had stood, a small sigh emitting her lips. "An Arena? Imagine that." She smirked for a moment, stepping away from the couch. For a hot second, I thought I had stepped on territory I shouldn't have, and she was leaving. But she made her way to the window, staring out over New York. So I naturally went too. "Well, I've just been singing around bars for a while now, even had 2 gigs. Nothing too amazing." She explained. "I mean, I know you say Arena and all, but, actually, I wouldn't wanna be that big. I just...want people to hear my music."

Her smile faltered somewhat, and it spoke volumes. It wasn't happening fast enough for her, the growing number of ears that would someday listen to her words. She wanted it all now.

I sidestepped a bit closer. My fingers were so close to brushing against hers, then stopping myself in realising that was too much. "It does take time, these things. I mean, I didn't get here overnight. It will happen, Blair." She flashed me a gracious smile, and I was glad she didn't find any of that condescending. That was not my aim. "Anyway, I'd love to hear your music."

"You would?" Blair cocked her head to the side, turning more to face me, her hand on the window cill closer to mine.

"Of course," I reply. She should've known that anyway.

"Well, I'm not gonna break out into song for you right now. But I have a few videos on my Facebook. You should add me." She suggested.

I had never opened Facebook so fast. "There. I sent you a request." I scrolled through her timeline, my back now to the window, "Lemme see."

"Oh, God. Please don't. Not right now." Blair panicked.

I lifted my gaze, my eyes almost wide. Blair St Clair, the girl who wasn't hesitant to approach a mic, was embarrassed. I found this to be adorable and oddly made me feel more relaxed. "Don't be shy, Blair. I'm sure they're great."

"Brianna, don't." No joke, Blair attempted to snatch my phone away like a child.

I found it highly amusing. "Why not?" I smiled mischievously.

Blair continued her protests, trying to swipe at the phone more and more, all while laughing nervously.

Eventually, my teasing led to a chase. I still scrolled her Facebook as I ran around the room, Blair behind me.

"Which one should I look out for?" I stood at one end of the couch.

Blair stood at the other end, letting out a pant. "Brianna, you better not."

I stepped to the right, throwing her off, and she ran to her left, ready to run straight at me and take the phone out of my hand.

But I tricked her. When I took that step to the right, I pulled back and moved to the left instead. And without thinking, I threw myself down on my bed.

Before I could even get up, Blair was already there, too, crawling towards me. She reached for my phone, still pleading with me to stop.

And finally, giving the current circumstances, I gave in. "OK, OK. You win. I won't play your music in front of you." I giggled mischievously, shuffling so my back was against my headboard. "You're gonna have to remind me to check it out, though."

Blair remained at the bottom of my bed, kicking her heels off and folding them like a pretzel. It was as if we were teenagers again, catching up on all the hanging out we never got to do. She fluffed out her hair, "God, Brie, I came here to have a good time. Not to work out. Why are you still looking at your phone?"

Now that I was on her profile, scrolling back to the top, I saw a familiar picture. "Wow, this George guy's kind of cute."

Blair smiled warmly, her eyes looking upwards. And I had the slightest sinking feeling she was about to tell me this was her fucking lover or husband.

"Ah...George. What a guy." Blair blinked. "He does music too. If you like my stuff, then you'll like his too. He's got this song Gimme Love. It's my favourite."

"Is he your boyfriend?" There was no hesitation in asking.

Her brows briefly crossed. "What? No. He's one of my closest friends. Really helping me find places to perform. He's just...really cool."

I mouthed a silent 'Oh' before going on and cocking my head to the side, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Was it normal to ask shit like this? Maybe it was. But considering I had confessed to her I liked her very much in that accidental message, perhaps I shouldn't have said it at all. Didn't want her getting sus.

I got the feeling she knew I was trying to find a way in as she raised a brow at me, the corners of her mouth turning upwards. "Nah, Brie. I'm done with boys."

I lowered my phone. That could have meant anything;

She was strictly into girls;

She had just gotten out of a bad relationship with someone, and she was going through that typical 'men are trash' phase;

She used the term 'boys' when referring to immature fuck boys who still thrived in toilet paper bombing people's houses and still fought with feminists online. She was now looking for 'a real man' who would love and respect her.

She wasn't speaking, just lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Before the silence could go on and get awkward, I shifted in my own spot. "Do you wanna elaborate on that?"

"Oh. Yeah, if you want to hear it." She said like she didn't want to, and before I could stop her, she went on, "Well, the last was Conrad. He cheated on me. Before him, there was Ethan. I found out he'd talk shit about me to all his meathead buddies, said that my ass wasn't big enough. Then Bryce with his superior attitude. And…" she sighed, "Fucking Trevor."

Just hearing his name did something to me. I could feel how my shoulders had tensed, how the breath got stuck in my throat for a moment. But my ability to talk was unaffected because I spoke up, "I remember you saying he was controlling." I moved away from my headboard, shuffling closer to her, so close she could have put her head in my lap if she wanted.

Blair nodded, "he was," she breathed out a sigh, "I can't believe I'm even admitting this, but after high school, I started seeing him again. He promised me he would change, that things would be different. And I always feel like such an idiot for believing him."

That was upsetting. My hand squeezed in a fist. "So, what was the final straw? The thing that made you end things for the last time?"

Blair took in a deep breath, rolling over onto her front and propping her head upon her hands. She looked up at me with sad eyes. "He was just the same, Brie. Always controlling me, telling me how to act, who I could and couldn't hang out with. He was like that from the beginning to the end. I mean, you remember how he reacted about that one sex-ed class? And that time, he yelled at me in front of everyone for not sitting with him at lunch one day?"

I had no idea about the last thing. And I wasn't even surprised. Trevor was that type of guy, and you just knew it within the first few minutes of meeting him.

I was curious to know, but I kind of already had a feeling. Yet, I needed clarification. "Is that why you never came back to the library? Because he knew people would talk if you were seen with the school loser?" She leaned up now, but I continued. "Is it why you never came to speak to me about the prom?"

Blair was just watching me in silence. But I could see it, the realisation in her face.

"Fuck." She sat up and moved closer to me. "Oh my gosh, Brianna. I am so sorry. I had...no idea it would hurt you." We were both face to face, and she put her hands on mine, her eyes apologetic. She cussed, briefly looking away. "Fuck, I knew you hated me. The years of silence, of course, you did."

"Wait, no. Stop. I'm sorry. I don't wanna make you feel like a bad person. That's not what I wanted to do." I said profusely, my hands tightening just slightly.

"No, no. I'm sorry. You have every right to be upset." She spoke quietly, her blue eyes pleading with me. "Just be honest with me. I owe you that. You deserve to be heard."

"Really, Blair, it's fine. It's - -"

"Brianna. You're upset. You're not really good at hiding it, no offence." She smirked at the last comment. But the smile disappeared, and she waited for my response.

I stared back at her, my gaze shifting between both those eyes. My mind debated what to do, refuse to say a thing and let it all continue to build up. Or vent years of pent up emotions that needed to be said.

I looked away, deciding the latter decision was probably the best. I really didn't want to, what with the risk of upsetting her.

But maybe she wouldn't.

But maybe she would.

But maybe…

Her hand left mine and swept a strand of hair away from my face. I didn't even know it was there. "You're really hurt, Brie," she spoke softly.

I looked back to her finally, her hand lowering back down. And I finally found my voice. "OK." I shifted in my spot, highly uncomfortable. Come on, Brie. Just tell her.

"Do you remember the prom? When you asked me how we never talked more?" Just say it. "Because I always felt inadequate. Like I wasn't enough for you. And, not just you, even my…" I paused, feeling the lump form in my throat, "...my parents. Ummm…" saying that out loud to her, it hit differently. My voice was cracking. "I always associated you with my parents. I don't know where the connection came from, and I know now that that's fucked up, and I know I probably should go to a therapist about that, but..." I quickly explained. "But yeah, I just...never felt enough. Like 'why would Blair the cheerleader want to associate with someone like me? How could Blair ever love someone like me??'"

Fuck, it just slipped out. I studied her face for a reaction, expecting her to back away.

But she didn't. She just nodded in understanding, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"But, um...I know now. It wasn't that you didn't care. It was just...fucking Trevor." I practically growled that name.

Blair breathed out a laugh, rolling her eyes. "Fucking Trevor."

"Yeah, fuck that asshole," I allowed myself to smile before continuing on. "I just... didn't understand how hard that actually was for you."

"It was very hard. God, it bothered me so much because I really did have a soft spot for you, Brianna. I really did, ever since we were kids." Blair smiled warmly. "And that's why I'm so glad you replied to my message. After all these years."

I gulped, thinking about that damn message, and now seeing her loving smile. "Y-You didn't think it was weird?"

Blair sighed, yet her smile remained. "Brianna. Do you think I'd be sitting here if it was?" She moved her hand to my elbow, up my shoulder, caressing my cheek gently.

I almost said something. I couldn't even remember what it was. Not that it mattered because I didn't get the chance. The moment I had been waiting for, it was happening. Her face was moving closer to mine, eyes slowly closing. And as soon as I felt her lips brush against mine, the feeling of her touch caused the butterflies in my stomach to flutter. I closed my own eyes and accepted what was happening.

The kiss my teenage self craved, dreamed about even.

It was reality.

We hadn't just slipped into some other world.

This was real life. The feeling of her hand on my cheek, that was real. The butterflies in my stomach fighting against the walls, also real.

And how I lifted my hand and held her face, also real.

She pulled away first, but her lips were still close, "was that OK?"

"Yeah," I moved my face back towards hers, initiating another kiss. I was savouring every bit of this moment. The sweet taste of her was too much to not let go of.

But she pulled back again, letting herself fall back against the mattress. I stared at her for a few seconds. Fuck, this was happening. Something inside me was hesitant to do this. The nerves, the fear of not being enough for her.

Blair reached out for my hand, and I knew I was just overthinking again. I took her hand and allowed her to pull me down to her.

Lowering my face to hers, I kissed her again, more hungrily this time. For a second, I didn't know where to go from there, still so in disbelief that my luck had turned around.

When I pulled away, my hand travelling down the side of her face. "Oh my God...is this real?"

"Of course it is." Blair giggled, her hands roaming up and down my back.

"OK. Good!" I panted, moving my kisses to her cheek, then her neck, and I could feel my heart beating a bit faster.

But because I am Brianna Caldwell, the most awkward person to have ever lived, I had to go on with the questions. "Hey, Blair, can I ask you something?" I kept my lips where they were.

"Mhmm?" She purred when I kissed that point where her neck met her shoulder. The pathetic noise she made almost made me melt, I swear to God.

"Were you…" come on, Brie, just say it, "were you gonna kiss me at the prom?"

She chuckled, "Yeah. But Trevor had to be an insecure loser."

I appreciated the cute giggling sound she made.

I lifted my head away from her skin and leaned up. I looked at her with a raised brow.

Blair was smiling still, but I knew she was getting impatient.

"So...you like-liked me back then too? Even when I was ugly?" I asked.

"Brianna, you were never ugly." Blair's brows connected, a hand stroking up and down my side. She really was getting needy. "And yes. I always like-liked you. God, that's so cute. You still say like-like." She took my hands and guided them to the knot tight at the side of her wrap dress.

"Shut up. Fuck, you're so beautiful." My hands began to untie the knot while I lowered my face and kissed along her clavicle and the only bit of exposed chest I had access to.

"Fuck. If only you knew how long I wanted this." Blair mewled. "I didn't think this was ever gonna happen. Even when I saw you and Juju out on the balcony, I was like...fuck. I'm too late."

Confusion immediately took me over. I pulled back again, looking down at her. A brief flash of frustration appeared on her face, but I ignored it. "Wait. What?"

"Yeah, I just…" Blair looked away for a moment as if debating on continuing or not, "always saw how you were around her. Always so happy. Like you were on top of the world. And I just didn't want to get in the way of that."

Her hand was trailing along my thigh, but I ignored it.

"Wait...Jujubee?" I knew that's who she was talking about, but even the sound of her name, it made something inside hurt. Not a hurt that she caused. Something...so different yet familiar at the same time.

"Yes. I never saw you that happy around anyone else…" Blair leaned back, balancing against my propped knees. "I mean, the prom? The way you looked at me, it was nothing compared to when you're with her. With Jujubee, it was...always so different."

Realisation dawned on me. I knew what she was getting at.

I opened my mouth to speak, ready to say I didn't like Jujubee in that way. But the words wouldn't surface. No matter how much I willed myself, I just couldn't. Even the thought of saying it made that feeling of hurt feel 10 times worse.

"You OK?" Her fingers danced around my thigh again, only with more wanting now.

"But…" I began, "I gave you my Valentine's card in first grade."

Now she was silent, her gaze shifting between both my eyes. She leaned up on both elbows, realising my questions weren't going to stop, and her pussy wasn't going to be eaten any time soon. She gave a nervous laugh, "um, no. You gave it to Jujubee."

I squinted my eyes. "No. I gave it to you, Blair."

"Girl, you gave it to me, and when I asked if it was mine, you shouted at me, saying it was for Juju and you just wanted me to check it out." She was laughing again. But seeing my still confused face, her smile began to drop. "You don't remember that?"

I was silent for a moment. Blair was in front of me, the love of my life, but all I could see was the image of Jujubee in my head. Her perfect little face, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed, that bright smile, her silky black hair that always smelt so good.

I thought back, all the way back to that specific Valentine's Day. I remembered handing the card to Blair, her confused face, how the kids snickered as I stood there feeling sorry for myself. And Jujubee shouting at them all for making jokes.

But that was all.

"I... don't remember that," I spoke quietly, my eyes squinted.

"Not even the card she gave you?"

My eyes widened at that. "She did what?"

"Yeah, she gave you a card."

Now that she mentioned it, there was a flicker of an image in my head; something pastel pink. My tiny painted fingers holding a heart shape. Baby Brianna smiling, only to lift her head and see the other kids making fun.

"Oh, shit…" I whispered. I climbed off Blair and got up from the bed.

I was on the verge of pacing, my hand in my hair, "Oh my God."

"Don't be embarrassed, Brie." Blair was fully sat up in the bed now, her legs spread as if trying to beckon me back. "Not a lot of people can remember so far back."

I needed to prove if this was real or not. I'd call Jujubee. But then again, would she have even answered? If what Blair was saying was true, that explained why Jujubee was behaving the way she was. She was hurt. She was pissed because I didn't remember her card.

But how the fuck could I have forgotten something like that? All my life, that was all I ever wanted - to know I was loved by someone. Such a memory like that…

"Brie, are we...you know...gonna…" Blair spoke quietly.

My eyes widened. A memory like that. A memory that would be worth keeping.

I turned to face her. "Blair, wait here. I'll be right back."

"OK. Sure." Blair blinked a few times.

I wasted no time rushing downstairs. Taking a moment to observe the crowd, it seemed, quite a few guests had left already. At least it would make it easier to navigate.

I made my way to the kitchen. The memory box was still there. For a millisecond, I feared someone would have stolen it.

I took it to the counter, no one was around, so I felt safe enough to open it.

My nerves were wrecked as I lifted the latch to the box. I only had a small idea of the things that would be in here. Old photos, movie tickets, childhood drawings.

But I hadn't planned on opening it up so soon.

No. I needed to know the truth.

Opening it up, I saw a bunch of photos, tickets and pieces of folded up paper. I removed them, planning to possibly look at them at a later date.

The more I pulled out, the more confident I felt that Blair had got it all wrong. And she was the one who remembered things differently.

But there was a flash of pink at the bottom of the box. I gulped, pushing aside the scraps of paper burying it.

And there it was; A pastel pink heart-shaped card, 'Happy Valentines Day' writing in glitter gel pen on the front. "Shit…" I said quietly, pulling the card out.

Opening it up, I breathed out a puff of air.

'Dear Brianna, I know people in class are mean and say nasty things. But I think you are the prettiest girl in the world. Happy Valentine's day. Love from Juju xxx'

I could hear the younger version of myself reading it out loud, the insults from the other kids, Jujubee yelling at them because they were just jealous.

I put the card down as I realised Blair was right. And memories resurfaced, reading completely different.

That Valentines Day in which she refused to tell me who she had eyes for

That time she didn't invite me to stay for dinner.

How her smile would drop every time I mentioned Blair.

How I never danced with her at the prom

And finally, our recent argument.

It all made sense. Jujubee was in love with me. And instead of recognising it earlier on, I was too caught up with Blair to see it.

And what about me? How did I feel about her? Yeah, Jujubee was my one and only friend. She had gotten me through so much throughout the years. If it weren't for her, who knew where I would have been.

I couldn't pinpoint any time that I had thought of her as more than just a friend.

Well, maybe the times we'd lie in bed and just...stare into each other's eyes. Or the time she held me as I sobbed into her chest after the incident at the prom. Or maybe the times she'd smile, and it would brighten up my day. Or the exact day that I noticed how cute it was when her lashes fluttered.

Or…

My eyes met the heart-shaped card again, how the very sight of it made my heart skip a beat.

"Fuck." I ran my fingers through my hair as it was clear to me.

My eyes ventured away from the card, moving to the scraps of paper.

'Grandpa's tips for life'

My hand told me to examine the piece of paper further, so I did so.

At the top of the list, there it was. A sign.

'Go get her, kiddo. You've got nothing to lose.'

I needed to tell her.

I packed the box up and quickly left the kitchen, noting that a few more people had left.

"Blair!" I called, rushing up the stairs.

She was still there, laying in the bed, in just her white lacey lingerie.

I covered my eyes. "Oh my God. That was unexpected."

"Fuck. Sorry. I kind of had a feeling that would have been inappropriate." She asked.

"What? No. You're fine. I just... wasn't prepared for that." I stuttered, still covering my eyes. "Could you just...cover-up for a second."

"OK." I heard her say. "You can look now."

I looked back. She did pull the duvet up, but just below the wire of her bra.

"OK," I breathed out, trying to ignore her cleavage, "I think you're right about Jujubee."

"You think?"

"Yes," I replied before shaking my head profusely. "No. I know. You're right, Blair. I...I like her. Maybe even love her." Fuck, saying that out loud, it did something to me, "And yes, I liked you for so long, but you're right. I was always happiest with her."

I was expecting her to be disappointed, but she smiled. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"What?"

"Go get her."

Grandpa's words reiterated.

"You're not upset that we're not gonna have sex right now?"

"No, Brie." Blair threw back the covers, picking up her gold wrap dress off the floor, "I already learned how to deal with it. Knowing you belonged to someone else." She wrapped her body up in the dress effortlessly, fluffed out her hair and turned to look at me again. "I know you're meant to be with her. So, go. Go tell her now before it's too late."

Despite this revelation, I couldn't help but feel like a dick. Blair was smiling, but I knew she had to feel some level of hurt. I walked towards her and brought her into a hug.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you, Brie," Blair whispered in my ear.

I only held her tighter, "Don't be," and I pulled away, my hands still on her shoulders, "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have ever opened my eyes."

I kissed her on the cheek, and she smiled warmly. I turned to leave, and before I made my way downstairs, I looked at her once more. Her hand was on her face where my lips had been. I was glad I could give her that one last kiss, just something to hold on to.

"You really helped me, Blair," I said.

"Good." She said graciously. "Now go."

The urgency in her voice only fueled my determination.

I was under no time limit, but I couldn't help but want to reach Jujubee as soon as possible.

When I was outside, I shouted for the first cab I saw. Thankfully it pulled over. I got in and pulled out my phone.

But the car was still.

"Go! Drive!" I raised my voice.

"Lady. You haven't even told me where you're headed!" The cabbie turned in his seat.

Fuck, I sounded crazy. How he hadn't thrown me out was beyond me.

I only realised that I had no idea where my destination was. Jujubee could have been anywhere.

The driver was still looking at me, his patience growing thin. So I barked out Jujubee's address.

He seemed relieved to be on the road again. Only then was I aware of the honking cars behind us. Typical for New York, but this was too much.

I found Jujubee's number, trying my luck at the chance she'd answer.

It rang.

And it rang.

And it rang some more.

"Come on, come on," I repeated quietly to myself. Relax, Brie. It's not like she's catching a plane to the furthest state.

The phone went straight to voicemail. "Fuck!"

The cab driver glared at me in the rearview mirror.

I ignored him and tried again. Still nothing.

A few minutes passed, and I tried once more. But again, my luck was shit on.

I dropped my hands to my lap, sighing frustratedly. All I could do was just see if she was home.

My eyes trailed to beyond the window, just hoping to get there as soon as possible.

And there she was. Walking out of a pizza place, a solemn look on her face.

"There she is," I said aloud to myself before turning my attention to the cab driver. "Stop! Pull over!"

He came to a grinding halt. "Jesus Christ, lady! You really need to stop all that yelling and - -"

I handed him a $20 bill, "keep the change. Thank you."

I got out of the vehicle, eyes looking to where Jujubee once was. She was gone.

"Fuck." I looked down one path, not there. And looking down the other, there was Jujubee, rounding the corner and eating a slice of pizza.

I ran in my heels, people moving out of the way to dodge me.

I knew I was an inconvenience to so many, but Jujubee at that moment was my priority.

Rounding the corner, I saw she didn't get far. I couldn't help but bend over for a hot second, trying to catch my breath.

And when I recovered, I shouted out, "Jujubee!"

She turned, eyes wide like she had never heard my voice before. And when she saw it was me, her face sort of fell.

My hand reached into my bag, and I pulled out the Valentines Day card.

She looked confused at first, but then recognition settled in. And the disappointment was replaced with fear.

I stopped panting. And finally, I could speak. "You were right. Approval; That's all I ever wanted. And I thought that if Blair gave that to me, I'd be good enough. Because I never felt that. I never felt good enough. I wasn't good enough for Blair, I was never good enough for my parents, and I'd never be good enough for anyone."

Jujubee was silent for a moment, eyes falling to the pavement and then back up again. "You were good enough for me."

I breathed out. "I know. But I was...too caught up in my own shit to think about how you felt. Too caught up that...I didn't even think about how I felt." I paused, thinking of how the fuck I should say it. No, I didn't need to think. This wasn't some cheesy movie. "I...I love you, Juju."

She let out a breath, a shaky one like she was on the verge of tears. And her eyes became glossy. I really wanted to tell her not to cry, to be happy. But this moment, she wanted this all her life.

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she laughed. "Fuck, I got this fucking pizza 'cause I needed heartbreak food."

I returned the laugh. "Hey, it's OK. You can still eat it. It can be normal pizza."

"No. I'm not even hungry anyway." Jujubee admitted, passing the pizza to a random passerby (who was taken by surprise but accepted the free food anyway).

Jujubee walked towards me. I smiled, already smelling that sweet perfume.

But she pushed me back. "Fuck you for forgetting about the card. I knew you did. I always remembered yours."

"I'm so sorry. I don't know why I forgot. But," I paused, "Blair reminded me."

"She did?"

"Yep."

"Wow. She remembered. But you didn't."

"Yeah. I'm...really really sorry."

"Wow. Is this our first couple fight?" Jujubee put her hands on her hips.

"It could be. If... that's what you want to call us." I suggested.

"Perfect. Seal the deal?" She raised a brow.

I knew where this was going. "Oh, absolutely."

Jujubee stepped closer, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and pressed her lips against mine. And that unfamiliar spark coursed through me, like it came from somewhere inside her and travelled through my body.

And I didn't care for the fact we were in the middle of the street, probably inconveniencing others. All that mattered was the happiness coursing through me, the feeling of...being complete.

I pulled out of the kiss first. "Wanna get in that rocket and be the first to go to the other world?"

Jujubee smiled but quickly stopped. "I-I'm kinda unprepared. I mean... I'd need a toothbrush, my clothes..."

"Where we're going...you don't need 'em." And then I played the words back in my head. "Oh. Oh shit, no. Not in that context. I just meant... you'd get new ones, you know? Fuck, I'm terrible at this."

"No. You're just you." Jujubee laughed, and fuck, I adored how her eyes were crinkling at the corners.

We grabbed the nearest cab. When we told him where we were going, his eyes widened. It would be a journey. But we paid upfront, so the driver remained silent.

When we got to base, I almost cursed myself for not thinking about how we'd access all the areas.

But there was that mastercard. And they couldn't say no. They knew who I was, after all.

When we were in the gowning area, Jujubee and I helped each other into spacesuits. I was high with anticipation, ready to see what was on the other side, ready to do it all with Jujubee.

This was our dream.

Jujubee grabbed two helmets. One for her and one for me. She tossed it my way, and I caught it.

"Ready to go?" She asked.

"Absolutely." I extended my hand, and we made our way to the door.

The cold cool air was refreshing. My eyes travelled up and down the rocket. It was bigger than I imagined, and for a small second, I felt worthless. Like I was just Brianna Caldwell, a girl from a small town with no real purpose in this world.

But Jujubee slid her hand into mine. And I was reminded that all I had to do was shut my inner demons up. Because I did have a purpose. And I was something to someone. As long as I had her, that was all that mattered.

Jujubee smiled mischievously, pulling me along the bridge, leading me to the already opened door. She ducked down and climbed into the small space, and I followed.

It was disorientating at first, what with the rocket facing the sky. I feared I'd fall trying to get into my seat. But Jujubee continued to pull me along.

When we were seated, I wasted no time putting on my helmet and initiated the activation process.

I could feel Jujubee's smirk as I flicked at switches and pressed buttons. It only fueled my excitement.

A voice came through the radio, one of the engineers. We were bombarded with questions, demanding to know what we were doing, how it was too early for take off with no press to film it, all sorts of complaints.

But we didn't care.

When everything seemed ready to go, I put my hand on the lever. But before I pulled, I turned my head to her.

"Ready to see the flying horses?" I raised a brow.

"Just as ready as I am for the cats that bark." She breathed out a laugh through her nostrils.

With another smile, I pulled the lever. The ship was rumbling now, and my stomach was doing somersaults.

We both turned our attention to the sounds of protest from the engineers. They were livid now, shouting about how the media wasn't going to like this.

I lifted my hand up, flipping the source of the sound off. Jujubee cackled to my delight.

I put the intercom on mute. And the ship took off. Mom was gonna kill me for this. I'd definitely bring her back a gift. A new vase, maybe? Yeah. A vase from an entirely new world. Something new.

I looked forward, unable to see the ground below us. How high were we already? How long was left until we reached that crossover, the gateway?

My question was answered as the ship was illuminated by a bright light.

We did it, Grandpa. We did it.

[deranged-ink]

Dear editor in chief.

Yesterday I was reading a magazine -your magazine- while waiting for my coffee. I´ll admit that I was so into it that, to my embarrassment, I failed to notice the girl approaching until she left the coffee with some croissants on my table. That would be a big mistake if I were reading on the company time.

I was too involved in a single line of your last editorial:

What is your hobby? A simple and dull question, but not to my eyes. I can't help but wonder about what kind of person is asking. Is it someone intelligent? Someone with a really deep understanding of the human nature or just the typical dumb brick monkey behind a typewriter. I can assure you that one honest to god smile cameforth to your inquiry, simply because it is one of those easy-to-answer questions using a triviality, difficult to answer with The Truth.

I suppose that if you force me to answer with nothing but said Truth I would have to admit, with the proper amount of blush on my cheeks, that I like to look at the people, please take note that i am not a stalker, it's just that in order to be good at my job I have to describe myself as a rather avid observer.

I like to look at people, especially on my job. You have to understand, sitting on an uncomfortable chair for countless hours, drinking cheap coffe and killing cigars in some dirty ashtray, just waiting for the phone to ring to do my job... I would have turned crazy long, long ago if I wouldn't found a way to kill some time.

But from my hobby something really good came up.

I learned, no. I found something fascinating while observing these biological machines. Well first, I´ll confess, everything started with a game: Guess what it will do now?

From that game I discovered that all this elaborated, commercialized and consumed idea of freedom is -for most of these poor bastards- fundamentally, a lie . A lie that may or may not be true, that's the beauty of the whole subject. A liar's truth.

Before you burn your brains trying to imagine something like that, let me add something, whatever you imagine, it will be right.

If you think about it, it's a beautiful "oxymoron". Freedom is a useful farse (A dream for the most) where you must be aware of what you do and stop doing. You must fully understand each of your actions from its very root. Thats the really hard part.

Do not get me wrong, I have always said that true freedom is real, a primordial part of what reality is. The problem lies in the excuses that the lower minds uses to escape from the weight of freedom.

They fall for the supposed "unmeasurable plots" of some great powers and some others imaginary enemies (that for some not-even-god-knows reason will try to brainwash or enslave them).

They gave these plotters this divine attribute of being untouchable. And closing their eyes, they turned themselves into beings without a real opinion, without control over their lives. That's nothing short of stupidity. Themselves wrote the fairytale that they now fear, and did it in order of escaping the responsibility of knowing/taking control of their lives.

Themselves choose their imaginary chains and in the same thought, choose the more imaginary saviour that will come to brake them! Just look at those pocket warriors of the social networks, reading only what supports their ideals and burning the rest!

-Oh, traditional book burning! The irony!-

Thats how they define themselves acording their position on said system: left, right, pro-life, pro-choice, feminist, traditional, pro-system, anti-system, pious, atheist.

But what they call "the system" is just a playing field. Not some godwritten rules that will never change.

And there they meet failure without being able to realize that they act as the said system expects them to act. All the pieces on the board have a use. Even when trying to escape, when trying to think and act outside of the box, they only succeed -in a beautiful way if you ask me- to prove that they are wrong.

They do not realize that the system is not a box, but actually a box of many, each box is full of boxes and the fact that you can "get out" of the box only confirms this.

You can -with ease- point out all the poor bastards who buy a t-shirt with the face of Che Guevara (or someother communist symbol). Ironically, they are being part of a capitalist market with them as their target. The same can be said of those really patriotic friends, they really love America and they also really love their flag to be made in china. Sweet irony.

This is the same for freedom. To be free, you must be aware of what you are, truly aware, also accept what you can and can not do and that each of your actions has an effect on the great cosmic pool that is this life, each action is a small or a large stone that falls on water. You will imagine that with so many rocks that big pool is not calm at all. And thats life my friend, actions that modify our actions in one way or another. The real freedom lies in understanding this, accepting it and continuing to live.

Playing "Guess what it will do now?" I had an eureka moment some years ago. From an open window I was looking at the people on the street with my telescope, when I learned something that saddens me: "People" sold their freedom for a manual.

Life is not easy and that´s why most decide to live thinking it is. I honestly ignore the reason behind such a stupid decision. "People" gave away their freedom in exchange of beliefs, just to not question. Just to take the world as it was presented, without thinking, without asking. Only assimilating it and calling it true.

Name your manual however you want... Luck, Destiny, God, the almighty Horoscope, Reptilians or Super corporations that plan to dominate the world. It is in their hands that our world and our lives rest and not on us.

I bet that sounds better than the truth.

Everyone is free to believe in whatever they want, even when those beliefs take away their freedom.

Especially when they take away their freedom

The "manual" depends on many things, such as their upbringing, the books they had read, the books they didn't, their general education, but above all these things, of something greater, something with more force than those preconceived ideas of a man's life being the direct and ultimate result of those first twenty years of his life.

-Those who affirm that are the "intellectuals" who seek to justify mediocrity by blaming society.-

I discovered a truth, a sad truth, that goes beyond. Are you ready?  Our life depends on ourselves

-Surprising, right?-.

It depends on our decisions, our actions and how much we want to be ourselves. How much do we want to be free.

For the rest the world you have that manual that handles their lives or that simply points to the people or entities that will do it. Manuals that dictate the routine of each of them, from how, when and where they go to work, to what they stop to eat and why. What they believe in, how they think, how they feel.

So many "children" blame the manual and I can only feel sorry for them.

I can only look at them straight in the eye and say: Do not blame the manual, blame yourselves for accepting it. Blame your weakness for letting yourself be destroyed to that point.

To the point of acting... In automatic, each and every one of "them" lives like this, in automatic.

I say "them" because I do not know if "you", whoever reads these words, also do it. And no, do not let the fact that you are a reader of newspapers, books and intellectual publications make you think that you are beyond this fundamental flaw of the human being. Maybe you are also, a zombie, a computer that acts according to a list of things to do. That is why I refer to them as "It" or "them", maybe you are, or not, so I consider that these words can be one of two uses for you;

1: A call to wake up.

2: A lesson in what you should never do to yourself.

"They" are predictable, "they" are stupid. A person is a completely different topic, the problem is that there aren't many individuals left, individuals are now an endangered specie. But there are many "people". There were many individuals who decided to stop being individuals to become people.

Good people. Bad people. That doesn't matter. Cuz people is predictable. And it's something that in my line of work I've learned to do, it's a fundamental part of it.

For example; Look at this guy, for the last six days I've seen he it come and go, always in the same old beige suit and dull shoes, with its eyes on the ground, dragging its feet every morning. That's when I guess it goes to work. But not so surprisingly, it walks with the same vigor when it goes back in the afternoon. Two days ago was the day of "bring your son to work" but it didn't bring anyone. I got curious so during one impromptu walk to the donut shop I passed by it and could not help noticing that it doesn't have a single ring in its hand, nor a scar, much less any characteristic feature or mark added by life experiences. It was programmed that way, throughout his life it decided to accept what the rest thought of it, from its parents to its classmates, it let each and every one of their opinions form what it is today, unfortunately those opinions were everything but positive.

If forced to guess I would said that when It was a He, was one of those people with an artistic mind, a characteristic completely undervalued by his parents, repudiated by his peers and misinterpreted by his teachers who were unable to see beyond their own mediocrity.

If I have to bet: I would say that he did not grow up in the city, he was born and raised in a dying small town, one of those that somehow still linger in the 21th century. His parents decided that the life of an artist was not for him, that he deserved better, that he had to be someone "normal". He decided to listen to them. And being a person of unique thinking is not difficult to guess that he ended up in an office job that hates, earning a pittance to make his boss buy a new car every year. Thats how He became It.

But it's not the boss's fault, it's just that It is not good at what It does, it's almost like wanting to screw a chair using a rock. The wrong tool for the task. That is why this could be the best thing that ever happened to It, it may be the wake up call that leads It to recover its life. To become a He.

We can also see the perfect opposite; with a badly rolled joint in the mouth, practically finishing learning to smoke without coughing or looking like a complete idiot: A skinny boy in a leather jacket that barely fits him, too tight jeans, expensive but too big shoes, hair full of hairspray and tinted in three shades of pink that I do not have the slightest intention or desire to learn how to differentiate.

I always see him in the same place, the alley that is right beside the donuts shop, pretending to be the most badass punk of the block for hours. Actually, that doesn't seem to be the place he choose to spend every morning, I think that it's the place that was chosen for him.

He is never alone, always accompanied by others who dress just like him, the same spiky hair but of different colors. They skip school to spend their mornings laughing at the people passing by, provoking them, intimidating them, smoking, but until now they have never said anything to the police.

- Every time a cop walked in front of them they just kept quiet hiding their eyes in their expensive last generation smartphones. They even treat the "autority" with the utmost respect! It's funny but sad.-

This is fashion. Just a trend, fighting against the system, to rebel against their parents, against society, to paint walls with messages of anarchy and rebellion. With no actual desire to do so.

Just playing to be free without accepting consequences or duties, to be free to do what you want while keep on sucking from the old tits of your mother, a whole case for Freud to write two more books. Want me to guess? He never felt hungry. He must come from a boring and average middle-high class family. His parents gave him everything he ever wanted, but never a proper slap, must be the only child or at least the youngest of the siblings. And the only reason he plays the whole punk behavior is that he is bored

That's why he came up with this whole idea of rebelling against the system or rather, copied it, like his friends, without noticing the most comical aspect of all this, wanting to be different they all became the same. Acting the same, acting from a manual.

I bet that He will run, shout, beg to the police as soon as he sees the red rush. If he is smart, he will realize that he is wrong, that the system is not the enemy, is not the monster that makes this world the shit hole it is. The actual monster is the man with the rifle.

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Occupational hazards

Barry Berkman x Reader

Three part series: It was just another job, he doesn't even had to kill anyone, but the way she looked at him was more dangerous than the bullets.

Part I Part II Part III

Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: Violence, cursing, blood, stalkers.

Part II

Adrian's face smiled at you in the mirror, she was a nice looking woman, a few years younger than you, yet ten times more of a functional adult.

"Reservations are at 10:00 for brunch, and your... friend is waiting in the living room" Her voice had an ounce of disgust referring to Barry.

"Great! He is on time, and please don't be so harsh on him, I'll be down in a minute, chat with him, he is nice" She rolled her yes at you and walked out of your room, you knew she meant well and it made you happy having someone that caring around, even when this time you have lied to her about the true nature of your relationship with Barry.

You finished fixing up your hair and put on the summer dress you had picked up for you date it was the middle of June and it felt nice to have a reason to leave the house well dressed beside the fear that one of the many paparazzi lurking around would get a picture and sell it to a magazine with a stupid title.

And on the other hand even when you don't want to admit it, you were desperate to spend more time with Barry, you were not sure if he changed his mind out of pity, ambition or if he genuinely wanted to help you, but there was something about him so interesting you just needed to know more.

"You look beautiful" His del voice and the compliment take you by surprise "Shall we?" Even when chivalrous things like offering his arm like that or opening the car dormant nothing to you, it felt nice coming from him. "There was a bug in your living room, in the lamp next to your couch" He said once you were inside changing his voice back to the monotone he had used the day before and you felt a bit disappointed that his flattery was a lie.

"You know what? You are fired I'm going to kill him myself" You said jokingly, shaking that feeling away "How on earth did that psycho put a microphone in my house? I'm going to destroyed that shit the minute I get back" you started driving faster without noticing, the road helped to calm your nerves.

"Oh that that won't be necessary" He said showing you the small device crushed in his palm. "I crushed before Adrian could see"

"Then what you said earlier..." You started confused.

"That was a compliment, do big actresses don't receive those anymore?" He asked and youu could see a small grin on his face.

"So you met Adrian?" You better change the subject before things get complicated.

"I did, how much exactly did she knows? She send me an email with your address, and a few notes about places you like to go and stuff like that but she didn't mention anything else" He was looking at the road and you suspected he haven't see this side of L.A. before.

"Well, she knows I'm from Columbus, so I told her you were a childhood friend that came to work here as an extra in a movie I had a small role in, that we reconnected over emails and that now we wanted to explore more of that feelings" a complete fabrication but she had believed it and that made you feel worst about lying.

"I'm from Cleveland, but that would do. So you finally didn't tell her the truth?"

"I couldn't, you were right, is better if less people know" you were already at the restaurant so you allowed the valet to take away your car and you took his hand cautiously waiting for a reaction but he didn't pull away and just started walking in "How did your boss take it? That you end up taking the job?"

"Fuches is not my boss" He said again exasperated, just what you intended, there was a cute frown on his forehead when he do that "And he is happy, he didn't want to work with you either, so now he can ignore the whole thing and simply change his work number."

"A true dream that guy huh?" Even whit the heels you have to look up to him every time you talked to him.

"He is... terrible" He said after struggling to fine a compliment for Fuches "But just like you feel about Adrian, he is family." He talked low so only you could listen and you both walked behind the waitress to your table, in the open area of the restaurant. He opened the chair for you and wait for the waitress to walk away to ask a question that clearly was trying to get in the conversation since earlier "This Maverick guy, is he dangerous? Did he ever beat you or..."

"Or?" You said rising a brow but he couldn't get the words out "He is not that stupid, he wouldn't do anything that could physically incriminate him, but he was rough in verything, I really don't like to talk about it". Your palms were sweaty and the knot on your chest start tightening.

"I'm sorry" He said seeing your obvious discomfort "Is just that I have a friend, and I think she is working with him"

"A friend?" You asked very interested and it was his turn to be uncomfortable "Look Barry he is a bad men, I won't sugarcoat it for you, but it all depends on how known she is, he preys on extras and new faces with promises of big parts, but if she has a talking named role he probably would leave her alone."

"She is one of the leads I guess, is that movie of the moms that get divorce and fall for each other?" He said relieved with what you have said.

"Fantastic Richard make a movie to make everyone around him believe he is a feminist and I'm here paying a men to make me look like a decent woman" you said bitterly "Don't worry she would be fine, he would be the most perfect gentleman for everything about that project to cover his ass, your friend is safe" you reassure him and the waitress returned to take your orders, just when you were desperate for a drink.

"Are you ready to order?" She had a big smile with white teeth and bright pink lipstick and you could see her checking out Barry without discretion.

"Two black coffees please" He said before you could speak "I want the mushrooms omelet and the fruit cocktail" He said giving back the cart.

"And you madame?"

"A whites only spinach omelet, thank you" You said and she walked away no without giving one last look at him. "Coffee?"

"Decent women don't drink at 10 am" that actually made you laugh and he was pleased with your reaction "But actually there is somewhere I would like to take you after this and it would be better if you are completely sober" You gave him an intrigued look but he didn't say much else about it.

You eat in a comfortable silence, and you studied his face and his movements, how he keep moving his cup on the table and how he drink never taking the cup by the handle, like it was a glass. Then a loud ring interrupted the moment and you could see your least favorite person name popping up in the screen, you were going to turn the phone off but he took it first.

"Hello?" He said casually "Hi, I'm Barry, who are you?" you couldn't hear the response but you were almost sure he should be mad. "Oh that is not possible, she is very busy at the moment, right sweetheart? Do you want to leave her a message? Oh look he hung up" He give you back the phone and you immediately turned off. "Adorable guy".

"He is going to be pissed" You said with a big smile on your face "Thank you"

After the meal he took the car to drive outside town, there was something relaxing about it, that deserted area away from everyone and everything was definitely a place where nobody will follow and you felt completely safe next to him.

"Fuches told me how you get his number" he said opening the door for you. "And I invited someone here that may be happy to see you again" He said pointing at a man a few yards from you, he was wearing a hat to hide from the sun and a black best, but you could recognize his pale skin almost instantly.

"Hank?" You asked and he start approaching "Oh god is you, I'm so happy to see you.

"Y/N! This is gonna be so much fun, when Barry said he was working with you I was so excited" He said smiling and holding both of your hands.

"Wait a minute what is going to be fun exactly, and do you know each other?" You asked but it was obvious that they did, wich confirmed that NoHo Hank was everything but an ordinary men.

"Of course we know each other, Barry trained my men to be as good as him and take down the Burmeses but then he went crazy and kill them all. But hey! Water under the bridge right Barry?" He talked about murder an mafia the way he talked about color schemes for small rooms, and you could see just how dangerous Barry Berkman's world really was.

"You worked for the Chechen mafia?" You asked Barry.

"As a consultant" He said with indignation "Let's get started, put this on" he said tossing a bag with Gym clothes from Lululemon "I .... I guessed your size" He said a bit embarrassed.

"What exactly are we doing here?" You asked him and looked at the clothes, it was a nice purple sport bra and matching leggings.

"Well your ex is an asswhole, and I'm not that sure this plan of your will work, but since I can't stay at your place all the time to stop him for get close to you, I thought it would be good if you learn to defend yoursel" He said confidently. "Also I made some recon around your house this morning, your window is facing a blindspot on a roof perfect for someone to watch you from there" You remember the insidious calls from Richard and got chills thinking he may have been watching you from so close.

"Decent women don't drink at 10 am" He said sarcastically, making you laugh "I'm kidding, I actually want to take you somewhere else after brunch, and I'll be better if you are completely sober" he said with a playful look on his eyes that was enough to convince you to quit drinking...at least for that week.

You went to a small tent they have set up and put on the work out clothes to start, sadly your physical shape was no match for his, and after what he called just warm up you were sweating and panting. But you felt touch by the gesture, and your heart start holding to the illusion that he may not be doing all this for the money.

"Come on, like you mean it!" He said after you tried to hit him on the groin with your knee but stopped midair not wanting to hurt him.

"Hit him baby! Barry can take it" Hank said cheering you up, he was not actually helpful but it was nice to have him around.

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on Richard, on all the pain he caused you and how much you have sacrificed to get away from him and then you hit him again this time with all your strength, and even when Barry was way stronger he bend with paint for a moment.

"Barry? Oh shit I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" You start looking at him while he still had his hand holding his hurt manhood.

"No, it's fine" He said gasping for air "That was good, now do it to Hank" he said and start laughing watching how Hank went even paler. "Oh fuck that hurt" He said no longer holding his weight and Hank run to help you stand on his feet.

"I think that's more than enough, come on big guy I'll take you home" You said and helped him back in the car. "Thanks man" You said to NoHo Hank and offered your hand but he went for a hug.

"Barry is a good guy, he could be good for you" He whispered in your ear and you nodded with a blush in your face, either you were being obvious or he was just that sensitive.

You drive to your place in silence, except for you asking him every few minutes if he was okay. You helped him to your couch and went to the kitchen to find him some ice and an ibuprofen.

"That went well" He said once you were sitting next to him on the couch and he took the pill "Now make sure you do that if that son of a bitch comes near you"

"You can be sure I will, but seriously apart from probably keeping you from being a father I have a great day" you really meant that, maybe it was the way he looked at you or the way he spoke but he made you feel safe.

"I should leave" He said then putting apart the ice pack, "I have to work in the morning and I'll go to the hospital to make sure I don't have an hernia" He said and laughed at your concerned face "I'm kidding, I'll call you" He stood up and he gave you a handshake but following your instinct you pull him closer to kiss him on th cheek, he didn't move nor say anything but gave you a timid smile and just walked outside.

The peace you felt that night, that would extend for the next month was intoxicating, for the first time in a long time you went to sleep without worrying what would the tabloids were reserving for you in the morning, even when Pop sugar had a vicious article about the "Mysterious man taking Y/N on dates in L.A." the next morning, Barry made you happy, and maybe the only cloud in your sunny day was that your relationship wasn't real, it had an expiration date and a price tag attached to it.

Week after week you tried to keep you from falling for him, forcing you to remember how you actually met, but despite the fact that he was in fact a murderer he was a good man, and even when he called himself a bad actor he was excellent at faking caring for you, at holding you in his arms at the beach and giving you his jacket so you wouldn't get sunburned.

He mastered the art of making you believe he get nervous when he would get at your place earlier than planned and you would be walking around in a see trough sleepwear dress. And you have to force yourself to believe that a tender kiss on your forehead in public was just part of his job and meant nothing because otherwise you would be done when he left.

On the bright side was that people were talking about you two and the insidious calls and the nasty presents and threats have stopped, and since one friend of yours on Variety wanted an actual exclusive on your relationship by mid July you agreed to give her a candid interview about how marvelous your life was since Barry came along.

"Nervous?" You asked him and stop a minute to admire him in his old Marine uniform, you never quite get the kink about it until now, he did look amazing and the unholy thoughts in your mind were about to make you blush, you even had stop smoking to make the lie believable but god you could use one now.

"Not really, it's just weird I haven't use this in years" It was all part of the photoshoot that will go with the interview "Thankfully it still fits"

"You can always take it off and that would get attention too" You wink at him, your more efficient form of coping with your feelings was being extremely flirtatious, at least that way he would think it was a joke.

"Hi, I'm Danielle" the reporter said and shake Barry's hand once he was out of his uniform and you both were siting in a nice couch with the cameras around you. "First I want to say that you guys are a lovely couple, and it's such an honor that you allow this space to talk about it"

"Thank you for having us" strangely you felt actually nervous and when he notice you rubbing your hands together he took it one on his and hold it tight. "With all the things that are out there even when I like to keep my life private I prefer to tell the truth once before it hurt my relationship" You said, as you both have practiced for the last three days, your friend Charlie had been nice enough to send a copy of the questions to Adrian and you have choreographed your answers, now she would asked about how did you meet.

"So Barry tell me, all this media attention have had any negative impact in your life? How do you cope with being called a walking purse, as some headlines had said?" The question came out of nowhere and Charlie that was sitting behind the cameras was looking as baffled as you, and ypu could imagine who may have something to do with this.

Barry stay silent for a second that felt like an hour and then he finally spoke with a composed tone.

"When I first move to L.A. I have this delusional idea in mind of becoming an actor, and I used to think the spotlight was the goal, but then when we started dating I realized how damaging that could be for someone, the amount of pressure people put on women is insane, look ar this beautiful and wonderful women next to me, people should be talking about how great she is acting, how far she has get on her own, and how much she does for her community in her free time, I'm nothing, just an extra in a couple of commercials and a clerk in lululemon. If they want to call me a purse be my guest, nothing would make me happier as long as people give her the recognition she deserves"

If the interviewer was mad she didn't show, but that passionate speech was enough to make her back to the scheduled questions and the rest of the interview went smoothly.

"Well that was interesting" Barry had a sad smile in his eyes when he dropped you at your house "I think I overstepped, I'm sorry"

"Don't be, thanks for having my back, I froze I should have said something". It had make you feel week again and that was hurting you.

"Is fine, well good luck tomorrow" He said referring to the Emmy nominations that would be announced in the morning and that you had actually forgotten about.

"God you are right, well another reason to keep me awake I guess" Your mind formed an idea and you were not able to shake it and since he didn't respond you took your chance and went for it. "Would you like to stay? I mean I'm to anxious to sleep and I have some movies we could watch"

He looked completely taken by surprise, and he went dead silent, for a moment you even feard you have gone too far and that he might be mad at you for saying it.

"I would love to, we can finally watch one of those movies you always talk about" He walked in front of you to get in the house and you followed him more happy than you have ever been.

[hecohansen31]

Gurl if you got more ideas for them please dish! Lol that's my request, just more of that, whatever your ideas are for them lol

(A/N): Hello sweetie!

I know that I have already started a story about those two, but hey… I literally wrote this supernatural AU (although I don’t know if this could be properly called AU, since Roman is already a supernatural being) a few months ago and it was supposed to be about an OC insert (so if you see Heco, sorry it’s reader) and it was supposed to be actually MichaelxReaderXIvar… but I feel like Roman is just more fitting, so…

I really hope that you’ll enjoy it and if you like this verse please let me know because I literally finished the first chapter of the other fanfic I was working on so I will be working on the smutty continue of this…

Thank you, again for your support lovelY!

(Also I am tagging @walkxthexmoon, since she expressed her love for it, if you want to be tagged into something else… let me know!).

Also, since it is implied but not explained: Ivar is a werewolf, whereas Roman is a vampire (actually a “upir” but both Ivar and Reader tease him calling him “vampire” so I am here doing the same thing!).

WARNINGS: Bad Friends (I literally have to say that each time I am wirting about shitty friends I am like “No, my friends are not like this”, and then they make something… and I am like “this is karma for being assholes), Bitchy Reader, Heavy Flirting and Mentions of Sex and Threesomes.

She couldn’t help but feel a bit betrayed when her friends had sent her into that demonic village, as a birthday gift.

She was almost wondering if they hated her that much

(Was it the fact that she was more successful than them, or the fact that she was the only single one of the group, ruining with her mere presence the life of all its components…).

Because there was no way that journey was a vacation, it was absolutely a punishment of some kind, starting from the fact that her freaking car had stopped working an hour before arriving to the hotel, on a full bus, with her heavy luggage.

She was supposed to spend a weekend as a single lady with her newly broken-up best friend, except…

Except her ex-boyfriend appeared a few days ago, proposing to her and basically blowing off her plans.

If you could call “plans” something which had been thrown on your way.

She still regretted all the books she might have received, instead of being sent in this shithole.

She didn’t mean to judge a book from the cover, or better by the shitty phone reception, and the shitty appearance of the hotel where she was staying for two nights and three days and the shitty shops.

She hoped she might find some kind of bookshop… because that’s where she hoped to spend the days… although there were a lot of bar and liquor shops, maybe people liked to get drunk enough to forget about this shithole.

No, she wouldn’t be judging, not even as it started raining just when she stepped off the bus and reached hurryingly the hotel, almost slamming herself on the closed door, that thank God gave out under a little pressure, allowing her inside and in the warmth of the hall, for which she was thankful.

She spent a few minutes trying to recollect herself and thanking whatever make-up goddess, she hadn’t worn any, alongside collecting from her bag the vacation’s document and her wallet.

She approached the receptionist, a man, bigger than her of a few good inches, and turned around fixing some documents, till she coughed, more because of the cold she had been in than anything else, gaining his attention, or better a very pissed glare.

She almost though about fleeing the scene and checking the buses station, but the glare dissipated as soon as he took her in: she was sure she looked a mess enough to pray for his pity.

-Well… it is raining outside, isn’t it? – he mused almost shyly, immediately leaning on the table of the reception hall, almost as if to be closer to her, making her squeak lightly and in response her social anxiety kicked in, making her shove her folder with the payments and bookings in his face.

He smiled, with his shining blue eyes, taking (very gently for a man of his stature) the documents and setting down his eyes on them, and she almost whined to be robbed of those two spots of ocean, but she tried again just to readjust her appearance, wanting to seem calm and at ease, although she hated doing anything that remotely made her have contact with strangers.

-(Y/N) (L/N)? – he asked and she had to stop herself from saluting him as a freaking soldier, but the voice raspy and rough made him seem like someone who wanted everyone to stand at attention when he spoke to them, so she tried her best, although staring right into the ocean was a bit scary -… but I don’t see any Annie Howin, are you waiting for her? -.

Here came the hard part: explaining her friend had balled out of this “magical adventure” and if she could use a single room, instead of a double…

-… nope…- she almost wanted to slap herself for the childish expression, but the guy looked at her wolfish, clearly amused by the way she had rolled the word, which made her blush (wasn’t it too warm here? Or was she just burning from embarrassment?) -… you see… we were supposed to spend a weekend as singles…-

-You are,,, single?- he seemed  almost surprised by the way she said it, but she tried not to mind the comment too much, spitting out the discourse she had rehearsed for two days.

-… but her ex-boyfriend came back in town and… he proposed…-

-… and she accepted? – he commented as if they were in some kind of cheap telenovela, bringing a smile on her lips, while his own mimicked it in a smirk, a very sensual smirk (part of her thought it was the one lovers offered when they were teasing the other, as if humoring them but also trying to get them out of the shyness shell).

-Yep- again the childish expression and again the wolf-like smirk, which honesty made her wonder if his teeth were freaking sharp or it was just an impression -… and after he cheated on her… the dude kind of sucks…-

-Well, he must have other talents- the innuendos made her start out a laugh, mostly because of the absurdity of the situation: shy little (Y/N) gossiping with a gorgeous receptionist, who seemed into her.

(Key-word: “seemed”, she was pretty sure he was just flirty by nature, with those good looks and arms that could carry her everywhere, no she wasn’t totally imagining herself clinging at them, meanwhile he whispered naughty things, before dropping her to their shared bed…).

-I don’t know, I wasn’t the one he cheated her with…- and then she went back to the straight discourse, gaining a little laugh from the receptionist -… so she is not coming… and I am all by myself…-.

She didn’t meant to appear that pathetic, but it must have seemed that way to the guy, who rose his head, as if his ears could stand at attention as a well-trained dog, before giving her a sultry look and in that moment she remembered how stuck to her body her clothing was, nothing too transparent but… she was definitely vulnerable and that guy was checking her out as a piece of meat.

But not in the “sexual harassment” way, the “I really want you in my bed” way, and she was sure she was just mistaking the signs.

She was not ugly, but not a boy magnet: she just eased the “feminist who won’t put up with your shit” attitude, and it didn’t help to have social anxiety and shyness.

-So, you are all alone in a wedding suite… that’s honestly sad…- he mumbled but he didn’t seem sad for her, he was still leaning, and although his head was at the same level of her cleavage he was being a gentleman and still staring at her eyes.

-Yep, that’s why I would like to change it to a single: wedding suite is definitely too big for me…-.

-Sorry, lovely- she almost jumped at the nickname but he just smiled at her sweetly, letting the flirty persona behind -… we can’t change, but I am sure you will find the wedding suite to your liking, it is one of our best-.

Oh, just her luck.

She must have shown her disgust on her face (not a difficult thing, since she couldn’t hide anything) because he smiled apologetically to her:

-I swear it is a lot better than it looks, and we have warm water-

-But no wi-fi- she mumbled sadly at the sign on the window.

He scratched his head nervously, nodding.

-That sucks absolutely, but you can find an amazing wi-fi connection at “Shiny Moon”, it’s a bar near here, if you want, I can accompany you later-.

She seriously was flattered by the offer, but she didn’t know this guy and although he had been a gentleman (still sending her a few glance that made her feel hot and bothered, but maybe she was imagining them) she didn’t want trouble, mostly with hunks.

-Thank you, but I am sure I will find it, also I wouldn’t want to disrupt your work- she tried to push the “don’t want to bother you” excuse and he clearly didn’t believe it, but nodded as if he was used to that rejection and she thought for a moment to tell him, that maybe he…

But a beautiful blond-haired woman appeared catching the receptionist’s attention.

-Ivar! – she shouted, the name probably written on the little thing on the man’s tight t-shirt, which she couldn’t read because her glasses were a mess.

Ivar didn’t seem happy to be called and (Y/N) honestly didn’t get why: the woman looked like she came straight from a Swedish version of “Sports Illustrated”, definitely a model, who had unluckily chosen a shitty hotel.

-The water in my room isn’t working- she didn’t acknowledge (Y/N) as soon as she stepped near the receptionist table, locking eyes with Ivar, who turned his head down, avoiding categorically her gaze, but grunting a “ok” -… it needs to be fixated immediately, so come to my room-.

The last part of the quote seemed a clear invitation and it was what made Ivar snap, turning around abruptly and sending a glare at the woman, before recognizing her presence and softening his grim grin.

She didn’t know why, probably for empathy, but she smiled straight back at her, before coughing to make the rude model acknowledge her presence and whisper, trying to appear sultry.

-Ivar was minding my case, give him five minutes and he will solve your problem…- she wanted to add “your attitude problem” but she didn’t dare, already having said much more than the model expected, from her smiling face which sent her way a venomously sweet smile, nodding.

She didn’t answer to her, just turning to Ivar again and mumbling in a languid voice.

-Be swift, I don’t think it can wait much longer-.

Ivar just nodded, eyes fixed on the desk, and raising just when (Y/N) whispered a “she is gone”.

-She is a…- he tried to mumble, clearly numbing his rage to her benefit, meanwhile she shot him a compassionate look.

-Some people should just get a kick in their beautifully shaped butt- she mumbled and laughed honestly, as if releasing all the tension, something which was truly heartwarming for her, and made her smile to him as genuinely as she could do.

-I mean I would, but I am scared it would get just stuck there…- he made her laugh brightly and for a moment she thought about how embarrassing she must have sounded: nobody liked her voice or her laugh, too high-pitched, childish and definitely creepy but he looked at her as if she had just told him she was the freaking Virgin Mary, before turning around and catching a key.

-I am supposed to photocopy your document, but since you seem pretty cold and have dealt with an assholish receptionist, I’d say you can go to your room and warm up, it should be done by now- he put the key in her hands, reaching out for the physical contact.

He could have thrown them at her, made them dangle in front of her, but he straight up waited for her to offer her hands, gently putting the keys into them, covering them with his: that freaking contact was not accidental.

But she enjoyed the warmness of his hands, smiling thankfully at him, before trying to take everything in her hands.

And just when she was going for the elevator, she felt herself being called out.

-I know you might already know, because Fredys gave it out, but I am Ivar-.

She got into the elevator and she faced him smiling brightly before offering her hands as if she could grip his.

-I am (Y/N), but I think the documents gave it away-

-… unless they are fake, (Y/N) a pretty common name…- he made her laugh so easily she forgot to push the button, thankfully somebody else called the elevator and she made it in time just to smile at him and start her phrase.

-Strangest…-

-… parents- she mumbled meanwhile she reached her number, forty-eight, she low key liked it and the place looked much nicer inside, the old style that made everything seem “vintage” although it was a step from destroying itself, which might happen with her luck.

The key actually worked and she slipped swiftly inside the room, smiling at the clean smell and the warmth of it: a shower and a change of clothes would do her good, but firstly she moved around the room to check everything was alright and was surprised to find out how luxurious it actually looked, with even a bathtub, with hydromassage and a long plump bed where you could roll around in silk sheets.

The architecture was old and there was the much hated and anti-hygienic moquette, alongside with a horrible fantasy on it but everything looked in a classy way, much better than the motel she expected to find and much more than for what she had paid for her.

The place didn’t cost too much, according to her last research but it looked like it was worth every penny, if you ignored the fact that it was in the middle of nowhere with no wi-fi.

It was perfect if you looked for the perfect place for a “Shining” replica.

She tried to focus on positive thoughts, such as the fact that she shower water was immediately warm and she was happy to sing a little meanwhile relaxing her tights muscles from carrying her luggage every freaking where.

She then blow-dried her hair with the hair-drier that was there working perfectly, meanwhile slipping in a more comfortable attire: she had mostly short dresses, since she thought she would be out partying, a few sweater and her beloved high-waisted skinny jeans but she had managed to slip some ugly leggings and an old ruined university sweater.

It was barely three p.m. but she was tired for the long journey, which should have been a very short one, but the breaking of her car didn’t help (she had thought for a moment it was a sign that she should have just gone back home); she had had to deal with the police, coming to help her.

She had thought that maybe luck would be on her side, when she saw the bus coming on her way.

Unluckily the freaking bus journey sucked, so… she was tired AF and the cheap reality show she had chosen didn’t help and she ended up falling asleep on the plush bed, mumbling something about how bitchy bridesmaids could be…

She woke up because something on her head was vibrating and scared her into thinking about a possible earthquake, but it was just her phone.

It was Annie, from whom she had missed five calls and thousands of messages.

But she was so tired, that she actually thought about not answering her back and going back to Tom Hardy’s muscled arms.

(She had dreamt for a minute about the reception boy… Ivar… but it low key felt wrong; he wouldn’t definitely be involved into the situation she was dreaming, alongside the fact that it would be low key disgraceful to see him and blush after what she had seen in her dream).

-Hey Annie… I was sleeping- she even yawned, trying to tell her friend to make it quick.

They had never really been best-friends, forever competitors in everything and at the social level it seemed Annie was winning.

-Thank God you answered! I was getting worried…- she mumbled, clearly chewing her lips, she was also probably staring at her elegant diamond ring, part of (Y/N) wanted to tell her it was as small as her boyfriend’s dick, or so the rumors said, but she had stopped herself from doing anything, she had just “awed” stupidly alongside her other friends, when Annie had shown it to them (the ring, not her boyfriend’s dick)-… did you arrive? -.

-Yeah- and she watched her watch, apparently it was late enough that she might have missed her dinner, because of her little nap and outside it was pretty dark.

She put her friend on speaker, trying to put on a decent outfit, nothing too much to go to the “Shiny Moon”, which she highly hoped wasn’t some kind of exclusive club or a strip-club, because she had no intention to stick her tired body in a skirt, so she ended up in her comfortable jeans and an even more comfortable sweater.

-… so I am still sorry, but I felt like me and Gerry had to have our space and time, after the proposal… did I tell you he took me out to the “Sinatra”…- the most expensive place in their hometown, Heco remembered how it was something Annie always wished to do, and she was low key happy her friend could cross that off the list.

-Oh, it’s beautiful! – she commented, grabbing in her hand the sheer lace of her mini-black dress, the sexiest dress she owned and definitely the one she used to go out to clubs, but she immediately put outfit down, not feeling confident enough for that look -Hope you two had fun! -.

-I hope you will, too, (Y/N), is the room nice? -she asked, quitting the chipping about everything else.

-Oh, yeah, I have a jacuzzi- she heard her friend “owww” and mumble “maybe I should have come” -… and I am going out to get wi-fi, that’s why I haven’t been answering your messages because my 3G is not working so well…-.

-Yeah, I can’t hear you well…- mumbled Annie, but this didn’t discourage her from keeping up the conversation meanwhile (Y/N) adjusted her head in a high ponytail -… so I was thinking about the maid of honor: my sister or my cousin? -.

She low key didn’t expect to be the maid of honor, but not even being considered?

They hadn’t been best friends but (Y/N) had tried to play the part, remembering her friend’s birthday and gifting her lavish gifts, consoling her when asshole Gerry had left her and helping her build her confidence.

Annie had always left (Y/N) behind, after she was alright, and (Y/N) had been ok with that, she had stopped expecting people to do something for her, but still, it stung…

And to avoid confrontation, she started making horrible sounds and stumbling on her words as if she was seriously having a shitty phone reception, hearing Annie trying to scream and give up in the end, telling her to call her when the phone reception would get better.

She threw the phone on the bed, huffing and breathing heavily before adjusting elegantly her appearance and attempt to go out.

She stalked the reception hall and found a woman instead of Ivar: a beautiful blonde woman who seriously made her wonder if everyone there was a model.

She chatted a bit, asking for directions for the “Shiny Moon”, meanwhile the woman photocopied her ID, but clearly as disinterested as Ivar had been flirty.

She thanked the woman and adjusting her light coat she moved outside.

It was November and it was definitely cold but not as cold as in some  other states: the sweater and the coat kept her warm for the ten-minutes-journey to the “Shiny Moon” a dark and grimy place.

Still from the window she saw that there were many people dressed just like her, just with their computers or chatting up.

She entered and although the main colors of the club were golden and black, in a very tacky assemble that mixed a sex-club with a diner, the atmosphere was peaceful, alongside almost empty.

She sat at the bar stool, immediately making eye contact with a pretty girl of her age.

-Hi, welcome to the “Shiny Moon”! What can I get you? – her voice was emotionless although she showed off a smart smirk.

-Whatever can get me the wi-fi password?- she asked, trying to get straight to the point and gaining a sincere smile from the girl, who took a little piece of paper and offered it to her, before asking if that was all.

-Can I get a menu if I am not too late for dinner? – she asked, feeling her stomach grumble miserably, since she had avoided lunch.

-You are lucky, the kitchen is open for another hour and in the meanwhile can I bring you some kind of drink? – she said, putting out a white notebook and offering a plastic menu.

-Oh…- she didn’t know what to say -… coca cola? -.

-With rum? – added the girl, smiling at her teasingly and making her blush.

-No, no alcohol- she liked alcohol, but only when she knew she would make a fool of himself between people who did know her, not a strange grimy place, where she knew nobody, although if they looked all like models she could make an exception -… I need to go back on my own, so…-.

-If you can wait till my turn is over, I can accompany you- offered the girl she had just met and this brightened (Y/N)’s heart, but also she didn’t understand why a stranger might offer her help, after a few minutes of knowing.

-Oh, no I don’t want to bother you- she mumbled, using again the excuse she loved, since she constantly felt like a bother for everyone, even strangers she just met in a bar.

-Oh no bother, sweetie- the girl cheered sweetly -Us girls must stick together-.

And she sent a wink her way, worsening her blush, but she was immediately distracted by a blonde ghost appearing beside her.

-What have I said about talking with clients, Destiny? We have a full night.. we have no time to…- and then she met the ghost bluish-green eyes -… well I think I can make a little time for you, doll-.

Ivar adjusted the hydraulic tools back again on their shelf, fixing his appearance.

He had managed to avoid Fredys’ advances this time, although he hadn’t minded the flirty attitude of the new guest.

It wasn’t a typically flirty, more like he was the one doing all the flirty parts and she was just batting her long eyelashes, smiling shyly and worst of all: her freaking hips…

They looked like a freaking goddess’ hips, large and he wanted to see them in his hands, meanwhile he pushed them down on the bed, reassuring her with kisses on them.

Shit, the little girlie had done just a few steps in his direction and he wanted to bed her already, something he couldn’t do, but still nothing made him avoid the pleasure of making her blush and maybe if he played his cards right he would get to feel those hips.

He had a serious problem, worse than Hvitserk and food.

Talking about Hvitserk, he was coming up the stairs just when Ivar was going down on them, swiftly.

-Oh, hello there! – saluted him cheerily his brother, meanwhile he stopped alongside Ivar -Going out? -.

-Yep, I am going out for a few shots at the “Shiny Mood”, want to come? – he proposed.

-Sadly not, me and Ubbe have clan thing to do, but maybe I can join you later…- he knew he had lost the faith of his brothers and it hurt every time they reminded him of that but he tried to rein in his anger.

-Ok, have fun at the clan meeting- he tried not to sound bitter, but he knew he had failed when Hvitserk failed to keep his own straight face.

-You know we would absolutely love for you to be here with us, but… the clan is still not trusting you…- and he patted on his younger brother’s back -… you’ll be back soon-.

-I hope- he mumbled closing the conversation, and moving down the stairs, meanwhile his brother stuck there, but got a last look from Ivar -Oh… and we have a new guest, room forty-eight, she is mine, don’t try anything funny-.

If with Ivar, the flirting was strangely comical and harmless, with the green-eyed bartender she felt dangerously exposed even in her turtleneck and her full fitting jeans.

-Just cola, so, beautiful? – she just nodded, avoiding the bartender’s gaze.

Men weren’t usually that blunt with her and not having the control made her feel definitely vulnerable.

-… Destiny you can go to deal with other clients, I got this one- he ordered to the gentle girl and (Y/N) shot her a glance as if to ask her not to leave her with the hot bartender.

But the girl just sent her a sorry glance, before moving off to the other clients.

-You are new in town- it wasn’t a question, but she still nodded again, just to feel a hand under her chin, gently raising it up so that her ink eyes could meet the bluish and greenish of the bartender, who sweetly stare into her making her feel as if she was showing him her soul.

And she was thankful he liked what he saw.

-Much better, doll, look at me in the face while we speak, you have pretty eyes and even a prettier mouth-.

-I have never been told that- she mumbled but kept her eyes up.

-Oh, what a shame- he replied, moving his hand, which was still resting on her chin, to her hair, caressing her as if she was some kind of dog, something which made her roll her eyes but also lean into the touch -… women like you need to be cherished each day-.

-Aren’t you the flatterer…- she mumbled and he laughed sensually, dropping his head and turning around, thing that made her almost drop a whine, being robbed of the beauty, but he came back immediately, with her drink, and exactly like Ivar, he handed it to her with extreme physical contact, thing that made her almost wink at him.

-Just the truth, lovely mystery lady- he replied, before dropping on his elbows so he could stare at her at the same height, making her blush and cough out her cola.

-You didn’t tell me anything about yourself also, mysterious bartender- she sassed him and it got a pretty smile and an hand offered to her.

-Roman- and she accepted it, offering her own name.

-(Y/N)-.

-Pretty strange name, (Y/N) look more like a tequila girl- he humored her making her cackle a laugh.

-I do like tequila, but I am in the middle of nowhere and I don’t want to be kicked out of my single night out-.

-Ohh… single night out…- Michael almost whistled, clearly focused more on the single part than the ladies night -We host a thousand of ladies night, but don’t they involve another friend? - .

-Didn’t I tell you I am nothing like ordinary? – she said, with a bitter smile, drinking her sorrows away in the sugary drink -My last single friend got engaged a few days before, so I am all out of single friends, that was why I was trying to talk Destiny to join my night out… you literally ruined my night-.

-Oh, did I? – and he did a thing with his tongue that made her almost faint.

-Yeah, you are obviously not a single lady- she mumbled, trying to regain the upper hand in the conversation.

-I am not a lady- he appointed -… but I am single, sweetheart-.

And the hand was back on her cheek, coaxing her nearer, till she felt somebody occupying the bar sit next to her…

-…well I am single too, so can I join the single train? -.

Shit, flirty! Ivar was back again.

Roman had had a tough night, a full night at the “Shiny Moo” and Roman had wandered off, meanwhile Destiny was chatting up clients, making others wait, and he had immediately moved to tell her to move her ass, till he saw the pretty girl she was talking to.

Clearly the type of girl who didn’t care to walk in a bar in simple clothes and she still managed to be the most stunning girl in there, and she was just wearing jeans, jeans that looked like they were painted on her perky butt, and a mickey mouse sweater, he honestly thought looked deviously innocent.

Part of her looked like she could have just come out of a fairy tale books, but the way she talked and once the shyness went away… she seemed to come out straight from an erotic novel, the well written kind.

She honestly made his night better.

Ivar, a little less.

The fact that they wanted to bring the same girl in their beds made it… interesting.

-Hello there, lovely, saw you found the “Shiny Moon”-.

The girl smiled more at ease, than with him; Ivar was a people-charmer, whereas Roman was more sensual and the girl looked like she was entirely scared by her sexuality.

So, Ivar clearly had the advantage, but Roman knew how to get everybody on their knees for him.

-… yeah, I mean I am not amazing with directions, but this place is basically in front of the hotel so…-.

-So, you are staying at the old “Kattegat”? – asked Roman, trying to get more info than Ivar, also because he was honestly mesmerized by the girl, utterly smitten and curious to know more.

-Yeah, just for the weekend- and then she moved her little chin to Ivar, smiling slightly and asking -Oh by the way the room is beautiful-.

Ivar looked like a puppy who got a treat after the compliment he had received, nodding immediately meanwhile he mumbled lowly a few words.

-… that place might seem a terrible on the outside, but believe me, it’s very much worse inside, alongside the fact that his owners are all assholes- replied Roman, wanting her eyes back on him and getting them, alongside a shocked expression and a grunt from Ivar, which was immediately suppressed by something that said “do you want war? I will bring it to you”.

-People only come here for the free wi-fi- replied swiftly the other man, sparking a little fight.

And immediately (Y/N) came between those two, touching Ivar’s chest.

-Woah woah… your places are equally broken on the outside, but they are prettier on the inside, and yeah the wi-fi bonus is amazing- she laughed lightly, but her intention was clear: she wanted no riot or brawl in there, cocking an eyebrow at Roman, in a little show of dominance.

He, instead, licked his lips, a little aroused by a girl that could handle two extremely territorial males, without and ounce of fear; Ivar was thinking the same, looking at the hand on his chest with wide eyes.

-You are definitely all over men’s bullshit- mumbled attentively Roman, making her drop her hand from Ivar, who looked a few minutes from crying for the loss.

-Oh, all over every person’s bullshit, but you men are just the absolute worst- she laughed timidly, before downing again her drink, as she tried to avoid thinking about the two men looking at her smugly and intensively.

“Well you are lucky, we are not men, sweetie” that’s what he wanted to tell her, but seeing through all  the confidence she was faking, that she was pretty shy, it wasn’t the time to tell her they were supernatural beings.

Although she seemed smart to figure that out on her own.

-… men disappointed you, lovely? – Ivar asked, tried to sound compassionate, meanwhile he adjusted himself on the stool, probably because of his legs bothering him.

-It’s just…-.

-Are you a lesbian? – asked again Ivar and Roman sent him a death glare, knowing perfectly from the adorable blush she was wearing that they had just burned a chance to talk with her.

-No, I mean girls are beautiful, but not interested into them, although maybe I should, men are…-.

-… the worst- mumbled Roman, sending a straight up glare at Ivar, as if to let the sweetheart know that he was indeed “the worst”.

Ivar clearly looked embarrassed by the way she mumbled back, and moved near to get her attention, offering and half-hearted apology, helped by his sweet and dramatic blue eyes.

-Sorry, didn’t mean…-.

-Don’t worry- she mumbled leaning towards him -… a lot of people assumed it the same: no dates, no guys out of my house and I frighten every boy who comes my way-.

She tried to laugh it off but Roman could find how much it actually pained her: the loneliness and the sadness made her feel as if she was not enough.

But she was so so much more than enough and sweet, and she had already two men courting her.

-They were all boys to be frightened by such a pretty and powerful girl- replied Ivar, immediately gaining points by the pretty compliments, she leaned back into him, not enough to touch but… Ivar helped the contact by putting a hand over her shoulders, making her blush even more and sending Roman a winning smirk.

But he hadn’t lost.

-So, pretty girlie, do you have any plans for this weekend? – he asked, taking away the attention from Ivar and leaning forward, thing that was made by (Y/N) herself.

-Just to relax and do anything else-.

-Never thought about a threesome? – and the look of shock was enough to be a win for him.

Ivar seriously couldn’t be the prouder guy in the entire bar with the prettiest girl in town under his arm, smiling sweetly and with red shadows on her cheeks he wanted to kiss and maybe he would get to if he accompanied her back to the room.

Also, it was a little win over Roman, who instead of him, just needed to look at a girl to have her in her bed, and he also had had another little advantaged over him.

But he ruined anything as soon as Roman spit out the “threesome” proposition; it wasn’t rare for them to share a girl, mostly because of Ivar’s “little problem”, but this girl so sweet and pure… he felt like the sharing option was crazy.

She looked shell shocked in her expression of true shock, even worse than the one that she had on her face after his “embarrassing question”, but she almost laughed out, probably expecting it all to be a little joke.

Michael looked at her like a cat with a mouse, clearly trying to stay serious, although he laughed it off as if it was joke before going back to being serious.

-But seriously sweetie… if you want to do something more than just relax, we are more than willing to help you with a little fun-.

[hocenimlatine]

Invitation Only

Happy Thanksgiving! Here’s a chapter from my completed series Knight of the Night that I started as @sithlordintraining

KNIGHT OF THE NIGHT (Modern AU/Vigilante AU)

Matt Organa-Solo, a 21-year old psychology student at Academia: University of First Order. He was the only child of Senator Leia Organa-Solo and Retired Chief of Police Han Organa-Solo. It was a problematic community, but not as terrible as some other towns and colleges. But somehow, he always found himself always somehow saving one someone, literally. After a crazy night, will Matt dare venture to become the hero this place needs?

                              Matt the Technician x Black Reader

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

The leaves crunched beneath the Doc Martens owned by Y/N and Matt. Matt turned to give her a soft smile, which was gifted with a joyful laugh. Over the past few weeks, the pair were growing closer; dare to say even dating. Of course, nothing was stated that this was true nor sealed with a kiss. But, it was their actions that made it all too clear. Matt was always meeting up with you, getting you food and drinks; and you were always making him happy, showing him new things and places, and just being super cute, the both of them. The cafe’s bell rung out as Matt held the door open for her. Sliding into the booth, Matt sat across from her and watched her remove her scarf. (Y/e/c) eyes sparkled at him. “Your nose is red.” Y/N smiled at him. “URGH!” He let out loud and dramatically dropped his head down. He heard the giggle escape your lips before hands threaded to his blond locks. His chocolate eyes peered over his gold rims as he sniffled. A pout fell on her glossed lips. Matt had a little cold and hadn’t really been able to hang out. Also, it could be because he didn’t wear the appropriate clothing as Kylo Ren. But, he couldn’t help it. You were a very outgoing girl and he had to ensure your safety even if you didn’t want it.

Midway through their meal, Matt noticed the shrug of her shoulders. “Why are you nervous?” He asked as her fork hit the plate. “Am not!” She chuckled. Two fingers pressed against tense shoulders, they fell down and Matt’s eyes crinkled as he saw your embarrassed face. “You know you can tell me anything.” He said holding your stare. You sat on your hands, focusing on keeping your shoulders still. “Are your parents coming back for Thanksgiving?” She asked. Matt shook his head no; “My dad is going to be in Panama with my Uncles, to celebrate their independence day; and my mom will probably be at some summit on the other side of the world.” He said unbothered and that bothered you. “Would you like to, possibly, come to Thanksgiving with my family?” Matt was taken aback. This was a big step in your relationship that wasn’t a relationship. “Yo-you don’t have to do that Y/N.” His fingers ran through his hair. “No Matt, I want you to come.” Your smile was so pressuring he didn’t want to disappoint you, but he didn’t want to feel like a burden and the Knights. “Y/N, I-I, I’m sorry I can’t impose like that.” He stammered. “You won’t!” Your hands wrapped around his larger one. “My parents always tell me I should invite more friends over and I can’t invite Phasma over because of Finn. And Rey is not allowed, that’s another story for another time; I hope this doesn’t seem like the process of elimination because I really want you there with me.” Biting your lip, your eyes were focused on him. “I’ll try and make it.” He fixed his glasses and that answer seemed to satisfy you. He knew Nassar had a family and would want to go away even if he didn’t say anything; Olcan was getting better, but he couldn’t leave him alone. So maybe, it was time to recruit more Knights.

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

In less than 24 hours that the Knights of Ren had posted about “Looking for the next Knight”, it became America’s Next Crime Fighter. From videos, pictures, resumes, fanfictions, and essays pertaining to why they should be the next Knight. It was absolutely ridiculous! Matt knew he should entrust the help of his others but to be perfectly honest they were strangers with good intentions, but he felt more comfortable choosing because he was the one who initiated this. Not to mention the one candidate who caught him by surprise. The position was chosen: A young jokester from the South, who Matt had seen plenty of times. He was a nice kid that was misunderstood; on scholarship, an orphan with a good heart who was, sadly, still teased for his southern twang and dreary clothes. But that never seemed to break his merry spirits, although sometimes his anger would get the best of him. Matt understood this and was quick to take him under his wing, fitting very well into the Knights and gaining the name Lorcan Ren. Things were looking pretty well, Matt had definitely RSVP’d to the family dinner.

He had agreed to come to Thanksgiving, that had Y/N just bursting at the seams. It might’ve been fall, but your smile made each day warmer, or that could’ve been global warming. And seeing your smile just made him happy, the happiest he has ever been in probably like ever! But there was still a little problem that followed him. As Kylo, there was this one pest that continued to bother the Knights even after the fact they’ve been denied an invitation to the knights. It was late and the bass could be felt all around Phasma; it was hot, people were sticking to each other and she had to pee. Stumbling in her 5-inch heels, she made her way to the ladies room only to see a line. She rolled her eyes and made her way to the back exit. She propped the door open to gain access from the empty alleyway, or so she thought. “Aye, pretty girl!” A voice made Phasma jumped. She sucked her teeth as she felt the warm liquid slide down her knee. Turning, two slightly shorter guys began to approach her with a sinister smile. “Why are you out here alone?” One of the guys asked. Her face twisted up: “What?” The two boys laughed and began saying something in a different language. Rolling her eyes she started to make her way back to the club before one of them grabbed her. She brushed him off, just to have the two them grab her. With ice-cold blue eyes, she stared at them.

Kylo drove down the dark alleyway to see two men attacking a woman. He hopped off the bike and snuck behind one of the men, twisting his arm and shoving him on the wall. “What type of man are you?” The vocoder vibrated against the man’s ear. “No, no, no,” The man pleaded. “You got the wron-AHH!” He yelled as he was thrown to the ground. He turned to see the other man in a headlock. “No we called you, we need help she’s trying to kill us!” He squealed as the blonde held him tighter. “He made me pee myself!” Her words slurred a little. Though the mask, Matt watched as Phasma completely destroyed the other guy. Phasma let the unconscious man fall to the ground as her chest heaved. The masked man just stared at the woman. “Now are you going to let me be a Knight?” She asked. “N-No, I cannot.” Matt couldn’t put Phasma in harm, not just because of Phasma, but he could only imagine what Hux would do to him if he found out that he was putting her in danger. “Is this because I’m a fucking girl?” Her accent was thick. “Because if so that’s complete bullshit! Before you came, I was taking them both down, with fucking heels that hurt like a cunt!” Phasma continued her rant and he knew there was no winning with that. “Fine.” Phasma almost missed the approval due to the static of the mask. Her red drunk face lit up: “Really?” She began to make her way to hug the Knight, who was taken aback. Phasma wasn’t a hugger and honestly, this was probably the first time she was hugging him. “You won’t be a Knight, but I have something for you.”

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

The Captain; that’s what he called Phasma. Gave her a silver helmet to find her at any given moment. She was quite aggressive, so he let her run practice along with Nassar. They instantly clicked maybe because they both came from military families and knew how everything ran. Matt thought it would be great to send her out to the women who contacted them; he thought she would kill him for typecasting her but she enjoyed being a “feminist hero” while not dressing like Wonder Woman, yet still being shiny. A laugh rumbled through Matt’s chest as he thought about it as he waited outside the door to your family’s home. The door opened to show two identical boys looking at him; Matt blinked behind his glasses not knowing what to say. “Uh...Hi, I’m Matt, I’m a,” He cleared his throat. “Y/N’s friend.” The boys’ face lit up. “Ohhhh! Okay, come in, man.” They pulled him in. The scent of food filled his nostrils and music mixed with the voices of children hit his ears. It was just an environment that he had never been in. He was the only child in his entire family; the only companion he ever had was a brown Tibetan Mastiff named Chewbacca, but even that gift for him chose to side with his father. Matt walked into the room, feeling all out of place in the warm-hearted house. “Hey, man!” The familiar voice pulled him out of his daze. He turned to see Finn and four other guys approach him. “This is Matt.” Finn nodded towards him and the three behind him expression changed quickly. Before he could actually read all of them, his name was being called. “MATT!” Your cheery voice alerted them all as you descended the stairs.

He couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you looked. You always looked beautiful, but he guessed being in a comfortable environment. He thought it was his mind making you move in slow motion, but he didn’t see you helping two little babies down the stairs. “Say hi to Matt!” You told the two toddlers, who opted to wave shyly and run away. “Hi Matt,” Y/N smiled up at him and the blush quickly took over his face. She then turned to the boys and gave them evil eyes. “You guys better have been nice to him.” To his surprise, they cowered back in fear. His lips tugged up but he did his best to keep it under wraps. “Um, I-I brought something.” He raised the black bag. “Oh okay, let’s take it to the kitchen.” Matt followed behind you like a lost puppy as he got some looks from your family members. “Mom, Dad, this is Matt,” He turned to see your parents and you were the perfect mix. “Another wh-,” Your dad whispered gaining a smack from your mom. “It’s lovely to have you, Matt. Is it short for Matthew?” Matt shook his head. “Matthias,” Matt nodded. “Aw, that’s nice and different.” Her mother smiled. “You brought something?” Y/N nudged him and he handed over the black bag. Your father was quick to take it and reveal the brown liquid. A nice smirk fell on his lips as he peered at the large bottle of Jack Daniels. His neck was red hoping your father wouldn’t be offended; this was the drink his Uncle Lando brought over all the time. “Good job, boy.” Your father chuckled calling over your Uncles and cousins over for a drink. A wave of relief hit him until you wrapped your fingers around his hand and introduced him to everyone.

Matt doesn’t know how he found himself surrounded by your brothers, cousins, and Finn. But there he was with a drink in hand listening to west coast rap. “Man, he goes to Berkeley and now he swears he from Cali.” One of your cousin jokes. Matt wasn’t really paying attention. He was too busy looking at all the pictures of you and your family, and pictures that stretched back generations. He took in how your cousins and brothers were all unique but got along so well. He also notices that you were practically the middle grandchild; all the boys were older than you, Finn is just three years older than you and then everyone younger than you were all girls, the oldest being 11. His brown eyes couldn’t help but follow you around as you interact with your family and he couldn’t stop his heart from beating faster. “Ay man,” Your brother nudged him out of his daze. “Come to the store with us.” It was more of a command than a question. Matt nodded getting up and following all the boys out the side door. “Hey!” They all froze from the sound of your voice. Even though you were the princess of your family and it was their job to protect you, he could tell they were very much scared of you. “Where are you going?” “To the store.” Her cousin quipped. But, her (y/e/c) eyes were on Matt. “Where are you going?” She inquired. “Um...I wa-was going to the stor-” He stammered before Finn slung an arm around him. “Relax Y/N, we’ll bring your boyfriend back in one piece.” He teased, leaving you quite embarrassed.

Every time a door opened, Y/N’s eyes would wander over, until eventually, the hoard of boys shuffled in. Matt followed behind them, but even with the glasses shielding his eyes, she could make out the glossy, pink orbs that matched his blush. He soon shuffled to the couch to sit next to you. “I didn’t know what going to the store meant.” He laughed into your shoulder, which gained a couple of laughs. “Well, now you know.” You told him. “Are we going to eat soon, I’m hungry.” He whispered. “Lucky for you, we had to wait for you guys to get back.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Are you mad at me?” He asked and you shook your head no. A dopey smile fell on his lips. “You’re so sweet!” You chuckled and pulled him up from the couch. “Come on, let’s say grace.” Y/N made sure to be far from the other boys so they would be caught joking while Grandma said grace. Technically, Matt and she weren’t together, but she wanted him to make a good impression because hopefully, one day, she would or he would gain the confidence to actually define what their relationship was. Dinner was great, he surprisingly held his own and your Aunts liked that he had a large appetite, your big cousins and brothers strangely enjoyed him too, your little cousins thought he was nice because he played with them, your Uncles and Dad liked him because he knew how to play spades (thanks to Uncle Lando!), and your mom just thought: “He’s the one!” You really DID NOT want to hear that, because you really didn’t want to admit to anyone, even yourself that you felt something really strong for him. But, you would try to keep your mother’s intuition in the back of her head.

Matt stood outside checking the status of the Knights and the General, he chuckled at the name. So far everything was good and there were no messages. The door slid open causing him to turn around and see you. “Hi,” You whispered. “Hi,” He smiled. You walked over to him on the deck. “Did you have a good time?” Y/N asked. “Good? Y/N this was the best Thanksgiving I ever had.” He did the boyish smile that made your heart flutter and you were giddy. “I’m glad it was Matthias.” You cooed. “Hey, my mom was very religious when she was pregnant with me!” He raised his hands up. You laughed: “No, no, I like it it’s cute and different, not basic like Matthew.” You smiled up at him. Silence filled the space between them as the voice of Whitney Houston faintly played in the background. “I’m really glad you invited me.” Matt smiled. “Anytime,” You looked down quickly so he couldn’t see your blushing smile. Matt turned to see your family so entertained in whatever was going in the living room and he realized this is the first time the pair was alone. He placed his right hand on your waist, causing you to jump. “Um...sor- do you want to dance?” A blush was spreading from the tip of his nose to the back of his neck. “Yes,” You whispered at placed your hand in his and began to sway. Your mother was telling off your father about something when she stopped: “Look!” She pointed at the two kids dancing alone at the deck. “Uh-uh.” Your father shook his head and your mother hit him, before smiling at the sight of her happy daughter.

[samwisethewitch]

Physical Exercise as Spiritual Healing

also on WordPress!

I’ve never really identified with my body. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always felt a disconnect between the body I inhabit and the soul inside. The things that I think of as “me” — my personality, my thoughts, my actions — are all intangible, and none of them seem to have much to do with my dress size or how much weight I can bench.

That’s not to say that I don’t love my body, or that I don’t take care of it. I have multiple chronic illnesses, so I am extremely aware of the effect my physical health has on my daily life. I am also aware that, for better or worse, my body is the first part of me that people see and is often the basis for their first impressions. I have bright pink hair and tattoos, and that definitely gets me some weird looks — but I love it, because my hair color and my tattoos are just so totally me.

In my teens, I struggled a lot with my physical appearance and the way people saw me. Between the ages of 10 and 18, I went from a size 4 to a size 16 and back again — and for a long, long time, I absolutely hated my body. I was obsessed with becoming skinny, because in my mind skinny equaled beautiful. I weighed myself every day. I skipped meals. I did workouts I found online that promised near-instant weight loss. And all of that wreaked total havoc on my body.

Suffice to say, I have a complicated relationship with the concept of fitness. Sure, I always felt good when I achieved a fitness goal, but I was so obsessed with maintaining my “ideal” body that, on days when I had to skip working out for whatever reason, I was overcome by guilt, shame, and even anxiety. I realized this mindset wasn’t healthy, and for a long time I stopped working out altogether aside from the occasional walk or hike. I already had a pretty restricted diet because of my autoimmune disorder (I like to joke that I’m allergic to junk food), but if I didn’t literally need to eat a certain way to be functional, I probably would have let my diet go, too.

In the last few months, two things have changed the way I think about my body and physical fitness. One of them is a new idea that I’ve been exposed to, and one of them is a series of events that I’m pretty sure was a push from the universe.

The first idea that has changed my relationship with my body is Tantra, a spiritual path that grew out of Hinduism. There’s a popular misconception in the West that Tantra is the art of sacred sex — this is completely false, but it’s not as far off the mark as you might think. Tantra, to put it simply, is the practice of acknowledging the Divine in all experiences. Author M. Chinnaiyan, M.D., says that, “The principle of practice in tantra is that the path by which we fall is the path by which we rise… We do nothing to change it or act on it. Instead, we give it our full attention and melt into it. By remaining open and welcoming to all experiences, lust, anger, fear, and shame give way to the beauty and ecstasy that pulsate beneath them. Thus, our very limitations become the radiant paths to liberation.” So, while Tantra is NOT about using sex to achieve spiritual enlightenment (sorry to disappoint), it does acknowledge that sex (along with all other physical actions) can be a spiritual experience if we choose to view it that way.

This philosophy has radically changed the way I think about and interact with my body. My body, like all of reality, is a reflection of the Divine. My body is a sacred space. It is both mine and not-mine, it is both me and not-me. My body is an instrument for conducting energy, and for directing my focus towards the Divine.

And if anything can become a powerful spiritual experience, why not working out?

The second thing that has changed my relationship with my body, and especially with physical fitness, is school. I am currently in college, and my goal for this year is to complete my “General Studies” curriculum so I can move on to classes specific to my major. One of the General Studies requirements for my school is an activity-based physical fitness class — as part of this class, I have to work out twice a week and record my workouts in a journal.

Now, I have always hated exercise for the sake of exercise. I did dance and color guard in high school (and did really well in both), but I also did poorly in P.E. class because I was bored and because I was embarrassed to work out in front of my classmates. Exercise has always been associated in my mind with weight loss, which again, touches on some past body image issues. So when I found out that I had to take what is essentially a college-level P.E. class, I could have freaked out. I could have demanded a schedule change, or tried to get a medical excuse to get me out of the requirement. I could have done what a lot of other people in this class do: walk on the treadmill for ten minutes, call it a workout, and go home to watch Netflix. Instead, I decided to view this class as an opportunity for growth.

This summer, I added yoga to my daily spiritual practice. I’ve noticed that, on days when I do yoga, I feel more connected to my body, more grounded, and more emotionally balanced. If I approached all of my workouts with the same attitude as yoga, would I see even more of those spiritual benefits? I figured it was worth a shot.

First, I had to change the way I approach working out. Our instructor encouraged us to set a goal for this class, and I knew that if I picked a physique goal (such as weight loss or improved visible muscle tone) I would be in danger of falling back into my old body image issues. Instead, I chose a performance goal — one that could be measured by how my workouts made me feel, rather than how they made me look. My goal is overall improvement in endurance. I want to feel stronger, and I want to get more out of my workouts. I feel like this goal compliments my other, spiritual goal of being more connected with my body.

Second, I had to find a way to create a sacred space for my workouts. This was a little bit of a challenge, because I am working out in my school’s gym, surrounded by fellow students — but it is still possible to create your own personal bubble of sacred space, even when surrounded by people.

I begin all of my workouts with a few minutes of yoga, and by setting the intention for my workout to help me strengthen the connection between my body and my soul. I’ve also gotten into the habit of listening to spiritually-focused podcasts during my workouts — this helps me keep myself in that spiritual head space even when I’m working up a sweat. (Some of my favorite podcasts right now are The Fat Feminist Witch, A Sacred Space with Katie, and The Body Confident Babe, in case anyone needs recommendations.)

And you know what? It’s like I’ve broken through an invisible wall. I’ve seen almost instant results, and I’m loving my workouts in a way I never have before.

Not only have other people made comments about how intense I get during workouts (something that literally no one has ever said about me before), but for the first time in my life I feel like my body is an important part of who I am. With every workout, I can feel the link between my body and my soul healing and getting stronger.

When you’re seriously dedicated to a spiritual path, it can be easy to prioritize spiritual development over everything else. But the thing I love about Tantra, the thing that really speaks to my soul, is that it extends that spiritual pursuit to all aspects of life. The things that I do to strengthen and care for my body are sacred. The time that I spend with friends and family is sacred. The things that make me happy are sacred. Every moment of my life is a new opportunity to feel close to the Divine.

If you’ve struggled with body image issues or find it difficult to identify with your body, I strongly encourage you to try this new spiritual approach to your fitness, health, and wellness. Take that spirit of love, openness, and acceptance with you to the gym, to the doctor’s office, and to the grocery store. Make decisions that will nourish not only your body, but your soul as well.

You are perfectly whole, exactly as you are. And once you realize and embrace that wholeness, everything else will fall into place.

[bowieemeddow]

TRINITY. (Queen Fanfiction)

Part 1 // Runaway.

Summary: Margaret McCullugh comes to the realisation that her life is a total mess. After an argument she realises she’s had enough; she grabs her bags and runs away.

Note:Hi guys this is the first chapter of my new fanfiction. I’m not the best writer and this is my first time so please go easy on me; there will be grammar and spelling mistakes throughout this chapter. Feedback will be greatly appreciated 🙂

Warnings; Swearing, sexual assault, bad writing, slight Scottish slang (I’m from Scotland and I write the way I talk sorry 😉✌🏻)

Enjoy.

Thursday // May 1970

"I've never wanted to punch him in the face more in my life than at this point of time." I thought to myself as I glared at him across the dining table. Even from what felt like a mile away; I could still see that smug look on his Greg's face.

"Margret! Are you even listening to me?" I tore my focus from my bastard of a step father to my bastard of a mother. "You'll be meeting Thomas next thursday remember. To talk about arrangements."

Ah Thomas Russel. Son to a millionaire family; him being a successful doctor in the making at 22 and is apparently a distant relative of some foreign royal family (to be fair I wasn't listening to the shit leaving my mothers mouth)

The cherry on top of it all; I've never actually met the boy and I'm his fiancé.

"Poor Thomas." Gina; my younger sister mumbled under her breath while eating her dinner.

"Mind your own business you little shit!" I spat kicking her harshly under the table. Believe me I know this makes me look bad but I promise you I'm not a bad sister; I was actually excited when I found out I had another sibling on the way. I loved her even when she was a newborn. It was when she started talking; she turned into a sneaky little bully and mummy's favourite.

"That's enough don't you dare kick your sister again!" She snapped at me.

I cringed at my mothers comment; more because of the way she said it. Trying to act as posh as possible; trying to mask the natural Glaswegian accent she's had her whole life; the same thick apparently "rough" accent I also have yet Gina never developed it as bad as me, my dad had the rough accent and I was a daddy’s girl... before he left us.

"Why do I have to marry him. I didn't him pick him, hell I haven't even met him! Marrying me off to becoming nothing but a trophy wife? Fully dependable on my husband with a big empty house full of loads of children. Nothing to do except cooking and cleaning-"

"Can we please change the topic?! I don't feel like sending you upstairs again." My mum sighed

"Oh mother!" Gina exclaimed making me jump; her bloody voice goes right through me.

"This dinner is absolutely amazing!" I chuckled to myself quietly, Gina is so far up mums arse it's embarrassing.

"Thank you darling I made it myself."

Yeah right did she make this shit, she doesn't even know how to use the stove, it was the cook that made it. All of it is vegan since "meat is the reason why your acne is so bad and you've starting to lose that figure Margaret, you simply don't take proper care of yourself."

“Oh god I forgot! I was meant to take you bra shopping today.” Mum informed Gina

“But she’s only 13 mum. I never got my first bra till I was 15?” I argued, Gina got everything she wanted without having to even lift a finger.

“You should go with them Margaret. You wear too small a bra better go up a size sweets." He smirked away as he took a drink of his wine that's likely more expensive than everything I own.

At that point I was so pissed off I grabbed the closest thing to me which was a potato from my plate funnily enough and threw it at his head. If I wasn’t so pissed off I think would’ve found it difficult to keep a straight face.

Friday// May 1970

While sitting in period 7 English I thought back to last night.

After successfully hitting Greg's big head with a potato for his inappropriate comment about his step daughter's breasts; Mum took his side and got sent upstairs without eating anything for the rest of the night; not like I wanted to eat any of that shit anyway.

"God he's so cute!" The girl next to me squealed to her friends who were both in front of her; their chairs turned from their tables to form a circle that I was sadly apart of. I wasn friends with the three girls; Tracey, Yasmine and Gemma were the popular girls, the best housewives in the making.

I looked down at the newspaper which Tracey had in her hands, it was crumpled up due to her "fan girl" moment taking over her senses.

"The Gregory Special." The newspaper was called;

Only rich wankers read it.

"Thomas Russel is ready to settle down but who's the lucky girl?"

It said with a picture of the boy himself below it . Wasn't his best picture; he was probably flirting with some random girl in while the photo was being taken.

"So who is the bitch huh?" Gemma spat as Tracey read away at the newspaper trying to figure it out.

"YOU! Mrs Reynolds wants to see you in her office.” My English teacher shouted pointing at me it made the three girls jump back to their original spots as if they were actually listening to the lesson.

Shit what have I done now; I usually lose track at this point.

While putting my things in my bag I looked over at the three girls to see them scanning back through the newspaper frantically to find out who the "lucky woman" was.

I accidentally let out a chuckle of sympathy which caught their attention.

“I’m sorry, is there something you want to say?” Jemma snapped.

"Yeah I do actually since you three can't read for shit. Page 24." I sassed back and waited a moment.

"Margaret McCullugh? Who the bloody hell is that?!" I rolled my eyes at the stupidness.

"Margaret McCullugh. Now." My teacher shouted across the classroom which I nodded to standing up and grabbing my bag and coat with a grin on my face.

The three girls had their mouths wide open once they put two and two together; it was me.

"Bye girls." I whispered chuckling while leaving the classroom.

...

"Please tell me you are joking Miss McCullugh?" Mrs Reynolds pleaded with me

"What's wrong with what I want to do once I leave here?" I argued back.

"Your mother is a politician; she could bloody well be the prime minister in a several years time. How is she gonna get there with her child wanting to do.... textile design?" She gagged at the though of me becoming something that wasn't a doctor or lawyer.

"Why does it fucking matter anyway I can't even do what I want. My mums already set up my whole life." I argued back slouching in my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

Fuck being ladylike.

"Ah your talking about your engagement with Thomas Russel. Your mother wants you to just be okay, she's worked hard for where she is right now and it was a risky thing she done to get there. She doesn't want you taking any risks when you go onto be a politician or a lawyer-"

"Or a textile design artist." I corrected for her not giving in to her manipulation.

"Margaret I know you okay. Through these past 6 years that you've been in this school you've been very strong willed and feministic attitude to social issues and topics."

"Damn right-"

"But I'm sorry to burst your bubble but this is a patriarchal society we are living in. Woman will not change society. Ever."

I was beyond pissed at this moment of time. I shot up off my seat and slammed down both my hands on her desk in order to shut her up.

"Fucking watch me then!”

...

Saturday // May // 1970

"Hey chickadee." Tana smiled as she came into one of the private rooms of the pub, she lifted my feet and plopped herself next to me in the booth then put my feet back down to they were resting on her lap.

"Hi." I said stretching slightly as I shut my notebook over immediately and set it down on the table.

Tana was probably one of my only friends at this point of time; the moment she turned 19 she was allowed to decorate her parents bar; to which she called me up and asked to borrow my creative mind for help. Before it was just an old looking bar where young ones likes to hang out; now it was a modern neon, rock music bar.

"Glam Rock" it was called and it was placed in a more poverty ridden area of Glasgow. If my mum found out I was here I'd get murdered.

Every Saturday night people from everywhere would come here and celebrate a new "generation" as they called it.

"This new rock generation is gonna grow everywhere. Where men dress like women and women dress like men. Completely and utterly flamboyant!" I remember Tana saying to me when I first came across this bar; it was a Saturday morning and she was getting ready for a party. I was here because I was trying to find the record shop since they sell limited editions for half off.

"We just need someone to spread Glam Rock to every corner of the world."

"HELLO EARTH TO MARGARET!" She shouted snapping her fingers in front of me.

"Huh?" I said snapping back to reality.

"I said were you writing something?" She said pointing to my notebook, I didn't answer yet again because I was too busy admiring what she was wearing.

"For fuck sake! Have you took something?" She laughed trying to get my attention again.

"Sorry, sorry just had a long day. Thinking about what kind of punishment I'll get this time once I make my way home." I chuckled

"Anyways what did you say again?"

"Writing songs... oh and you've also got your camera."

"When am I not writing songs or taking photos Tana?" I said sitting up to grab my vodka and lemonade and down it.

"That's very true. So, let's see what photos you took." She said as she pulled off her slip on heels so she could fold them in a basket.

I put down the two photos I took on the table.

"Have you got a pen." I asked her as she admired the photos.

"Umm.. yeah I think somewhere in they drawers." She said turning her head to the left to show me where it was.

"This bar does look fucking amazing, you have to admit it."

"It's because I decorated it Tana. I hate to toot my own horn here but I'm fucking brilliant at decorating." I laughed as I took one of the photos and wrote the location and date behind it; then done the same with the other.

"You're good at everything you do it does my head in." Tana complained with a groan as she ran her fingers through her black long curly hair.

"I'm not."

"You are. You can paint, you create these amazing clothes, you can play the piano like no one else. You're an amazing singer..." my smile dropped as I grabbed both the photos from Tana's grip and stuck them in my bra for safekeeping before sticking the the pen back in the drawer; the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop, or more like you could here me slamming the drawer shut.

"Maggie-"

"I'm not a singer." I said interrupting her.

"Correction, your mum says your not a singer. But frankly love, you're  the best singer I've ever heard. You should join a band."

"That'll never happen."

....

Sunday // May 1970

Walking up the driveway of my massive house barefoot with my heels in my hand, my make up and hair a mess I knew I was in for it.

I accidentally fell asleep at Tana's last night and now it's 8am in the morning.

I walked in the house and shut the door behind me.

"MARGARET BEATRIX MCCULLUGH!" I heard my mum screech as the sound of her heels became louder and louder.

"God don't say my middle name." I cringed with my face scrunched up; a massive migraine was starting to take its toll on me.

"Where were you?" She shrieked once again; I'm starting to see stars with how bad my freaking headache is. It's way to bright in this house.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep at Tana's I should've called you it's my mistake I won't let it happen again."

One thing to know about me; when I'm in the wrong I apologise.

One thing to know about my mum; she throws my apology right back in my face and calls me immature.

"TANAS!" She started to trail behind me as I clumsily made my way up the stairs to my bedroom door. Once I reached the door I got an overwhelming feeling that I was about to vomit so I stopped for a moment to calm myself down.

I leaned my forehead against the cool marble that the whole house was made from to cool myself down.

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU! NO GOING TO ROCK GLAM, NO DRINKING, NO KISSING RANDOM GIRLS OR BOYS."

She caught a glimpse at my notebook; purple velvet and green floral exterior. She knew exactly what it was and snatched it from my hand.

"Hey!-"

"AND NO MAKING SONGS. NO SINGING SONGS I TOLD YOU NOT TO SING OR WRITE THEY DIRTY LYRICS."

I snatched the book from her and held it right to my chest. This book was my lyrics, my ideas, my thoughts, feeling. My whole life.

"ITS CALLED ROCK MUM! Get with the times, it's the Beatles that are popular now, not fucking hymns." I snapped as I walked into my room. Before I got the chance to shut the door over she was already invading my space.

"I don't give a shit what it's called. Stop it okay! That part of your life is over. It's time to grow up and face reality. You are engaged-"

"I'm not marrying him you can fuck right off." I looked at her through my full length mirror as she walked up to me. Her expensive heels clicking against my flooring as she walked closer to me.

"You're an ungrateful human being you know that. I found you a man; a millionaire who can take care of you for life you won't have to work a day in your life-"

"Yeah that's what I'll do, I'll go right ahead and marry a man I don't marry so that I'll birth all his kids and be his perfect dumb trophy wife for life. You worked hard to get where you are, why can't I work hard in something I wane you do. I don't need a man to do that." I said smothered in sarcasm making my mother roll her eyes.

"You and your bloody pride. Here's the real world Margaret; a woman's purpose main purpose in life is to get married and as the bible preached, have children. You'll never be anything different." She spat.

"You're going to the Russel's household on Thursday morning  for you to plan the wedding with your fiancé with a big bloody smile on your face you hear me?"

I chuckled softly as I walked up so our faces our almost touching; her Chanel No.5 tickling my nose.

"I'd love to see you try." I spat in her face. I suddenly gasped as her hand connected with my cheek forcing my face to the side as my cheek started to warm up almost instantly.

"I hate you, you're not my daughter you know! I should've aborted you when I had the chance you know that! If it killed me oh well, as long AS YOU WHERE NEVER BORN." She screamed in my face, she turned to leave my room to meet Greg leaning against the door frame.

"Are you okay Darling?" Greg asked my mum; his voice all sweet and soft making my scoff and roll my eyes.

She ignored him and left in anger.

"Would you get the fuck out of my room?!" I asked, his head snapped from watching my mum as she made her way down the landing and down the stairs to me.

"Seems you need to be put in your place a bit huh?" He asked as he walked up to me, so close to my face I could feel his breath hit my skin.

"I don't see the bad thing about being a trophy wife Sweets? You'd be a damn good one anyway."He chuckled as he looked at me up and down licking his lips. His hands were resting on my arse ready to give it a spank. A sudden spur of anger and confidence caused me to push him back.

"Touch me again and I swear I'll rip your tongue out."

"You don't have the guts." He simply said before leaving the room.

He's right I didn't have the guts, I didn't have the guts to go to the police and ruins my mother's career that she worked so hard for when it got out to the media that her husband is a child molester.

So Ive kept my mouth shut for years.

I feel hot years fill my eyes, I take a long deep breath in an attempt to calm myself down while looking up at the ceiling to try and stop the crying; I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

That's when I found myself packing a suitcase, grabbing my passport, some money I had. A couple of outfits to keep me going two or three weeks.

I grabbed my notebook, my Polaroid camera and my box full of Polaroid's and squashed it all into one massive suitcase.

I had to leave the rest so I could move quickly.

___

An hour later my family left to go out for lunch without me. I sat at the window and watched them leave.

I watched them get smaller smaller until eventually I couldn't seem them at all.

I would never see them again.

I grabbed my suitcase, grabbed the keys to my mums car and fucked off out of there with the intention of never returning again.

_____

I just had to put Harry Styles in there somewhere.

Sorry not sorry 🤪😩

[nevertrustamanwho]

How to make relationships work

When I was in an emotionally abusive relationship, like most abusive relationships it started out great (or so it felt and seemed to me at that time anyway). Then things kind of slowly started going downhill after some months, but even though he'd changed I held onto the hope that he'd change back. I still loved him even though I kinda hated him, and every time we got close to ending it he'd pull me back in by saying stuff like he loved me, like he was sorry, like he'd change (even though previously he'd always said I was the problem, that he only did what he did because of me = major inconsistency. AND the thing that always pissed him off the most was when I told him he was being inconsistent lol).

But anyway, a lot of my strategy and thinking at first was: how do I make this work? I need a better relationship because I am suffering. (I thought of dumping him but I knew that would also cause me a lot of pain and I didn't trust myself to end it for good anyway.)

So I looked up advice on how to make it work (there is sooo much out there), I was pretty much determined to be the best girlfriend ever. Since I wanted a partner who was deeply committed to me and our relationship, I thought I should be that partner, too.

You always hear so many things like "you teach people how to treat you", I thought maybe I taught him to do this to me. "You can't change others, you can only change yourself / how you react to things", I thought ok I just need to change myself and how I react to things so I'll stop being upset with what he does (this is useful advice only outside of toxic relationships!). "Happiness is a choice", so maybe I'm just choosing to be unhappy. Even in therapy they told me "if you can't accept him for the way he is, you should leave him", but what they don't realize is that this is basically the same as "If you want a good relationship, then you need to accept him exactly the way he is" which, NO! Because he is not accepting me exactly as I am! I shouldn't have to do all the work! He is hurting me and putting in no effort and telling me everything is my fault. He is the problem, not me! It didn't help that my mom was getting heavily into Christianity at the time, and passed on harmful ideas to me like "love suffers everything" (yikes) and even though I was feminist enough to see through a lot of the bullshit, there was still stuff like that, and I loved him so much and was suffering so much, so it made sense, right? ("Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional" don't even get me started on that one. Which is not in itself a bad philosophy BUT IN MY CASE, IN THE CASE OF ABUSE, IT WAS VERY COUNTERPRODUCTIVE.) He also injected bullshit into my brain himself, for example he didn't like telling me he loved me even though he claimed he did and said stuff like "actions speak louder than words" and cited times he'd been there when my mom had psychotic episodes, and other good things he'd done (doesn't negate him having treated me and still treating me badly), so now I wasn't allowed to feel bad about him not wanting to tell me he loved me, or acting like I wasn't even his gf in front of others, because he "said it with his actions".

You always hear "communication is the key to a good relationship" so I thought, I must not be communicating well enough then. I learned about non-violent communication and tried it, didn't work. In fact, it made him listen to me even less. Another thing was that you shouldn't say to your partner "you always (x)" or "you never (x)"; which yeah it is bad for communication, it'll make the other person get defensive and is probably not 100% true, BUT in order to recognize abuse or toxic relationships you need to be able to recognize and acknowledge patterns. I also sent him every resource I found on improving relationships, all of which he just responded with "we don't need to read things, we just need to feel" or some woo woo crap like that to make himself sound enlightened, and make me seem like I was ridiculous or robotic for approaching relationships and emotional things in a logical manner, while justifying his own lazy ass.

I always wanted to be that person who doesn't bail when the going gets rough, you know? Ride or die is how they call it? So another way I rationalized it was "all couples have problems, I'm not gonna just throw everything away because of that" and I felt proud of myself for not "giving up". (Cutting your losses can often be the best way to go.) One recurring thing was him comparing me to his exes and it's embarrassing to admit but sometimes I basically thought "our relationship has to last at least as long as his relationship with her did, preferably longer". I don't remember if I asked myself why I thought that or how exactly I justified that that made sense.

The other thing was that it hurt so much and I was so frustrated and confused (because gaslighting), so I wasn't a perfect partner either, in part because I'm a HUMAN and in part because being messed with just really messes you up. I once made out with one of his friends in front of his other friends and he ended up catching me doing it also. I once kicked him in the balls out of nowhere when I was really drunk (in retrospect he totally deserved it lmao but in the moment he really didn't do anything to warrant that).

There's probably more to add to this, but I guess in essence what I want to say is:

1) Self-help stuff and therapy doesn't work to fix an abusive / toxic relationship, in fact it can even set you back sometimes.

Therapists basically aren't allowed to tell you what to do, including that breaking up with someone would be the best choice for you. They often can't recognize emotional abuse or maybe don't even know about it? They might even convince you that you're the problem because clearly you're unstable or maybe just because all they can do is help you with only "you" anyway. Couples therapy is known not to work when there is abuse and just makes things worse, and individual therapy for abusers can often make them better at abusing! (Why Does He Do That by Lundy Bancroft expands on this in one chapter.)

2) Realize that not all relationships can be fixed.

One important thing to remember is that love alone doesn't make relationships work, even non-abusive relationships, even if you both truly, deeply love each other. If you are the one putting in all the work, it's not worth it and it's not going to work, unless you define a relationship "working" as being miserable a lot of the time but still together.

3) Don't take pride in how much shit you can tolerate and forgive.

This is something that is so instilled into women to do. And it's hard to think differently because abusers destroy your self esteem, so what else is there to be proud of? What other good qualities do I have? But if you attach this to your identity it's going to make it that much harder to leave, because not only are you attached to him and to the relationship in itself, but now your pride and sense of self also depend on it. You're not a failure if you quit and "failed" relationships are nothing to be embarrassed about.

How to make relationships work? You can't. Not you alone, anyway.

I hope this can help someone out there ❤️❤️❤️