#i pray for something to come along and actually wake her the fuck up everyday

[sampilled]

personal rant under cut

sister asking people for money again but everyone has wised up and is refusing to give it to her. praise the lord. she needs to get real

she lives so above her means like she owes everyone in her life money and is always taking advantage of people so they pay for things for her (when we went on holiday with her she would send my nieces down an hour before her so my mum would end up buying them breakfast/dinner) and i genuinely think she must be in actual debt too cuz she buys so much shit out of catalogues and off klarna and even off other peoples catalogues. her mother in law (unofficially cuz she is not even married to that man rip) offered to put a couch on hers for her (even though they gave them a brand new couch when they moved into their house cuz it was too bug for them but my sister complained and whined about it constantly til she offered to let them use her fucking very lol) and my sister put a fucking ps5 on it without even asking. and it was for her fuckass boyfriend even though she was telling everyone in her life she was scared she hadnt bought my nieces enough (to get them to give her money or offer to buy them stuff) which is actually crazzyyyyyyyyyy actually imagine being this disconnected from reality and selfish

and she started fighting with my mum on that very fucking holiday even though my mum was basically funding it for them cuz they run out of money half way through. why would you go to a foreign country with 5 children when you dont have enough money to last two weeks (cuz you didn't have enough money to book the holiday in the first place) and then fight with the people giving you money???? no offence but if i owed anyone the type of money my sister owes my mum and her dad (who wasn't even there, she got on the phone and verbally accosted him from across the ocean), i would not speak to them the way she does. she owes her dad over £8000 ($10,505.20usd) and she literally calls him everything under the sun when he says no and also i haven't said how old she is yet, she is 35... 35...

and her man is a creep who told my brother he's not attracted to her cuz shes fat. doing all this for a man who would say that to your brother is crazy

she asked me for money even though we don't get along cuz apparently my mum lets me get away with everything (we r both grown ups and i am a grown up who doesn't drink, smoke or do drugs or ever fight with my mum. i have literally been a goody two shoes my whole life so i very much resent the insinuation my mum should be getting me in trouble for whatever it is she thinks i do that is bad... when i am 22 and i can do as i please)

goddddddddddddddddddddddd i'm just so frustrated. this is only like 5% of the problem (her man is also a horrible racist and a creeper who flirts with teenage girls but god forbid i speak!!!) (her man is a good 74% of the problem but they've been together since i was like 5 so i do not have the time or the memory to get through everything)

[astridthevalkyrie]

From one south asian sister to another….. oh no :( have you been telling them you’re wearing the hijaab but not actually wearing it? I can definitely just TELL the absolute awkward tension though of them finding out.

Luckily enough my parents haven’t really forced it onto to me and respect my own boundary of when I want to wear it, I can wear it.

thank you for checking in! i'm gonna use this ask to explain what exactly happened. i'll put most of it under a cut since this got really long. at a cliffhanger too, click read more to see the story.

so my first day of work was yesterday, i started at a store in our local mall. i knew my parents were the type to drop in without warning and i did expect them to do it eventually, but not on the first goddamn day. i had my phone on me tucked under my clothes even though technically i should have left it in my bag, just so i could check their location, but obviously i was training and couldn't just pop it out and look at it whenever. so when they came and saw me, without my hijaab on, i never saw them.

my youngest sister texted me saying that my mom had come home, said they went to the mall, and said they "needed to talk to me." she said my mom didn't seem too mad, but obviously i got nauseous pretty much right away, i could barely focus in the last hour i was there. it was better that i knew before they could ambush me, though, so thank god for my sister.

i get home and immediately play off that i'm sleepy, and crash onto the bed for a "nap." i heard my mom say something like "so why weren't you wearing your scarf" but i was pretend half-asleep so it got brushed off. then i pretty much just laid there for a couple hours.

we were supposed to go to my aunt't house, but my mother didn't want to go anyway, and she told my sister that since i wasn't feeling well, she would just use me as an excuse to stay. and, y'know, fuck that. i have a ten page paper due today that i have written half a page of that i need to get done and submit in eight hours today. and i should have worked on that yesterday instead of going to my aunt's house, but the idea of being alone in the house with my mother after that revelation actually makes me wanna drive a knife into myself.

so anyway, i "wake up" and tell my dad i'll go, he just quietly nods along and whatever. so i go up, and now everyone's upstairs, and as i'm drinking water my mom asks, "why did you have your scarf off while working?"

and while i was asleep, i considered three options: a, i could tell her that i decided to do it for job hunting and work because of discriminatory reasons. b, i could tell her that i started doing it a few months ago when law school started. or c, i could i tell her the truth, that i've been doing it consistently for two years and even before that whenever i wanted since i was 13.

i went with option b. so i told her no one made me, or anything, i just didn't want to wear the hijaab anymore. and that went about as well as you would imagine it to. here are some of the things i heard last night (not capitalizing, but most of these things were yelled, not spoken calmly):

"You're so spoiled. I allowed you to stop reading Quran, but this is too much." - not true, I stopped reading Quran everyday and she has continuously pestered me about it since, she hasn't allowed me jack shit.

"What's next, you stop praying, and then you're not even Muslim anymore!" - haven't prayed in years, but she doesn't need to know that. also, never wanna hear anyone say to my face again that all muslim women choose to wear the hijaab and no one ever forces them, or at least not in the precious western world.

"I always thought cousin x was like this because of the way she was raised, but now my daughter with MY raising has turned out like this." - the cousin of hers she was comparing me to hit her while she was pregnant with my sister. lovely comparison. also way to make it about yourself.

"It's because you watched too many movies and listen to too many songs." - a classic. check out all those things i participated in that hurt so many people. listening to music? what a horrible sin.

"It's because you hang out with friend x and friend y, they've filled your head with these thoughts" - the friends she named were my two closest friends, both of whom are black women. mind you she followed up with "i don't want you hanging out with black or white or non muslim friends anymore" but she also reemed into friend y, who mind you, has always greeted her politely and dressed appropriately if she was visiting my house. the other girl? more religious than i am (though she's christian) and neither of them drink or smoke or anything like that. meanwhile a muslim girl i hang out with wears a hijaab on her head for sure, but she vapes, drinks, goes on dates, but sure. muslim girls are the fuckin role models for this generation, definitely.

(she also took this opportunity to walk into my sisters' room and scream that she doesn't want them hanging out with their nonmuslim friends either. we live in a very white area—they don't have muslim friends. i only started to make them in college because my high school didn't have any but me. so.....total isolation except from their family! how healthy i'm sure my sisters will be fine.)

"I don't want you around my other daughters, i don't want you influencing them." - probably the one that stung the most, but also hilarious. HILARIOUS that she thinks i need to influence them. my middle sister hates my mother at the age of 15 far more than i did in my teen years. she's had trichotillomania for years and my mother has consistently told her to: just stop, that she's doing it for attention, that she must like doing it, etc.. so, yeah, my influence? definitely not needed. it's not like my sisters come to me to talk about things they can't talk to our parents about. i'm not worried about the day i have to move out and leave them, not at all! i'm sure they're in such good hands!!!

oh, fun fact also! my mother got married at like 25? 26? and only started wearing her hijaab like a few years after that. i wonder how she was raised! if me having been forced to wear it at 8 is bad parenting, i wonder what this says about my grandmother.

and here and there my dad being the coward he is interjected with "i don't understand why it's so hard" to which i answered that i didn't expect him to. when she screamed at my sisters i told him to stop her and he just said "she's in shock." like okay??? so come scream at me you fucking bitch???? i also had to play pretend that my sisters didn't already know i did this.

my brilliant father also said that while i was living with them, i need to wear it, but after marriage it was on me. oh RIIIIIGHT. marriage! after i belong to a man instead of my parents! the marriage that could very well be to a man who requires a hijaabi wife! why didn't I think of that??? and when i told them as much my mom cut in before my dad could and said "so what if he wants a hijaabi wife? is it a bad thing for him to be religious? better than being a degenerate!" am i actually. here? is this real life? is this fantasy? i mean same woman who told me she hopes my husband beats me if i continue to do theater so not surprising, but i'm sure my spoiled little brat self just doesn't understad.

then my mother goes and sobs in her room for a couple minutes. my dad gives her: reassuring words, hugs, back rubs, comfort. i got a head pat. i mean i was crying too but not loud heaving sobs like someone just shot my cat, so what did i expect, right?

he tells me to start wearing it at work. i say no. he tells me to quit, then. okay. four interviews, four job offers—i got every. single. job. i. interviewed. for.—and i walk away with nothing. nothing! side note, will probably be opening commissions soon, because i'm not in a hurry to take up another customer service job and deal with this again. i quit this morning. the manager was understanding even though i worked all of one day and black friday is coming up. this one's genuinely on me. i could just work with my hijaab on. but i won't. and again, not the reason i did it, but something just tells me in the area we live in, i was not getting four job offers with a hijaab on my head.

anyway, i just ask him if we're going to my aunt's house, and we are.

in the car, with just him and my sisters, i talk openly. he knows that i don't wear my scarf when i don't have to. he doesn't care. supposedly he understands (how interesting that he understands when my mother isn't there to hear it.) his advice? "just tell her you will, and then don't." oh.......so what i've been doing! lying! fantastic, brilliant, inspired. and he's very sure that a, she will believe me when i do this now, b, i'll "definitely" be married within two years, and c, that she won't stop me from hanging out with my friends or sisters.

like, in the nicest way possible, i wasn't worried about that in the slightest. i pay for my car. i'm in law school—LAW SCHOOL!—on FULL ACADEMIC SCHOLARSHIP. and i'm bragging. i am. the year's tuition could have been more or around 50,000. my parents aren't paying a dime to send me here. if i'm gonna go get lunch with my friend after class, there's quite literally nothing she can do to stop me. my sister and i just will not stop talking and if she ever tries like locking my sister in her room it's fuck around and find out at this point. what does she hold over my head? a toxic home environment. it's definitely exhausting to study for LAW SCHOOL and do LAW SCHOOL reading and then come home to utter bullshit, whether that's more yelling or the silent treatment or whatever. she also cooks for me. again, nicest way possible, i can cook for myself. i can buy my own ingredients if i need to. i can eat out. i don't need my father's money to do it either. not that i have enough saved that i could live on my own, but my father isn't kicking me out of the house, and i worked hard and saved enough that i can very much afford to make meals for myself, thanks.

where my mom has me, and where she doesn't even know she has me, is that i'm not as batshit as her. sorry to seem ableist, but she gave me most of my mental issues, so. i care about my sisters. i do not want them dealing with her and her abusive ass everyday. i care about my pussy ass father. he's already in a marriage with her and works full time, he's got enough on his plate to have to deal with her ranting his ear off about it everyday. and i care about her. can you believe that? i don't. i care about this bitchy ass woman and how she's a victim, how she had to move to a new country after marriage and how her in laws don't always treat her well. how she's schizophrenic and how terrifying that must be. so after all that, do i have any choice but to play nice? i quit my job, i'll tell her what she wants to hear. i'm not going to wear my hijaab at school but i'll still let her think i do. if she wants to watch me pray, she can.

so at the end, i am still the only one compromising. and all this because i don't want to wear the hijaab. which is supposedly as so many stupid fucking people have told me, is my choice, it's up to me! i live in a western country! but it's okay because once a man owns me i will maybe be able to make my own choices. yay!

yeah. sorry for this, it's super long—thanks to anyone who read it. i now have to get this ten page paper out, because it's definitely too late to ask for an extension and professors don't really care about minor religious complications. hope everyone has a good day, love you guys <3

[creepytoes88]

Let me spoil you, baby

Y/n’s Pov

Dating Vinnie wasn't what I expected I never was a big social media person but everyone and their uncle has tiktok. Chances are if you have tiktok you have seen Vinnie so needless to say I had a major crush on him. After seeing all the seemingly “Perfect” girls he hung around with. I never thought I had a chance, ya know besides the fact that I was a nobody. However living in LA is never boring and it never disappoints I saw Vinnie's cute ass on melrose, I'm not what you would call a “skinny” girl I have relatively small breast and a pleasantly plump butt as my mother would say. I'm not ashamed of my less then flat stomach either I don't need anyones approveal to be happy with myself. However back when I first met Vinnie that was a different story I was too shy to come up to him and say hello so I just admired him from where I was standing before walking away right passed him and his friends.

I walked into the nearest store and began to look at clothes picking out a pair of nice mom jeans and a vintage Cheech and Chong shirt. I heard the bell attached to the top of the door jingle as I walk to the jewelry part of the store I began to look at the earnings and necklaces. “How’s your day been so far beautiful?” I look up towards the voice ready to tell them to fuck off but I look up to see Vinnie Fucking Hacker. I quickly recover and Smile pulling myself together “I've had a great day! how has your day been?” I smile at him “it was alright but like 10 minutes ago I think I saw the most beautiful woman in my life walk into this store so I had to pray and hope that she didn't leave.” I widen my eyes looking around seeing no one “Did she leave?” Vinnie let out a laugh “No I'm actually talking to her, if you have time I would love to grab coffee or lunch with you, right now, on me of course!”

I drop my mouth a little before looking around for the cameras “um I would love too... My names Y/n by the way, I won't lie to you I know who you are Vinnie.” I say with a sad tone half expecting him to cancel “good now I don't have to explain why people are taking pictures of me” he says as he holds out his hand “are you ready to check out or are you still shopping?” he says with a small smile “Oh yea I'm ready I can always come back anyway” I smiled back at him as I grab his hand and walk towards the cashier setting down my clothes and jewelry she quickly rings then up “That’s gonna be $357.45.” I smile and start to take my card out when suddenly Vinnie hands her 400 hundred dollars I turn to him with my mouth wide “Why did you just do that please get your money back” Vinnie laughed at me grabbing his change and the receipt “you can pay it back to me by going to dinner with me again tomorrow?” I look at him we haven’t even gotten food yet and he’s trying to schedule another date “your not paying for my food this time or next though you just lost those privileges” I say with a sassy attitude grabbing my bag and walking out Vinnie following close behind.

Fast forward to now we never really tried to hide our relationship we just let it grow naturally and didn’t speak on it. Everyone has recently been hating on me jealous girls calling me ugly and fat, at first it didn't even affect me. I know Vinnie love me but in the back of my mind it bothered me it hurt my feelings. I didn't tell Vinnie, I don't want him to feel bad or worry there is nothing anyone can do to make them stop so I just lived with it. It's been 3 weeks since I've been getting hate in my DMs on every platform everyday I wake up and it keeps piling up. I look at them again before clicking my phone off and getting in the shower to release some tension and stress.

Vinnie's Pov

“Alright ill see you guys later!” I yelled at the boys running up to my door step we just got back from the skate park and I was so Gross and sweaty. I open the door and make my way upstairs as I walked into Y/n and I’s room slipping off my shoes and stripping myself of all my sweaty clothing except my boxers I fall flat on the bed. “Ouch” I said as I felt my forehead connect to a hard surface “what the fuck” I said in a soft voice holding my head I look down and see Y/n phone a smirk spreading across my face. I'm gonna tweet weird things off her twitter I think to myself as I open her phone I see her DMS are open and people are saying some pretty nasty things I look at the other social media platforms. I'm shocked and I'm pissed how could they even say such thing about Y/n the sweetest, most humble and beautiful person I have ever met or seen for that matter. I click off the phone and place it on the bed side table hearing the shower turn off quickly I pick up my clothes off the floor and shut the door I watch as my beautiful girlfriend comes out “boo.” I say behind her seeing her jump in the air slightly “fuck baby you scared me” she said turning around kissing my lips before turning and grabbing her lotion. Now usually when Y/n gets out of the shower she drops her towel and puts on lotion before getting dressed this time she picks it up along with her clothes and speeds off to the bathroom quickly shutting the door. “What are you doing sweetie?” I ask softly before tapping on the door “n-nothing...just getting dressed”

I bit my lip slightly “baby this doesn't have to do with what I saw on your phone does it?” no reply so I tried the doorknob and it was locked “baby let me in please” I hear sniffles and shuffling “let me g-get dressed fir-” I growl slightly not even noticing “now princess” I once again her shuffling before the door clicks. Pulling the poor open I rushed in seeing Y/n naked and basically covering herself looking at the ground “oh no baby look at me” I say softly walking over to her “please beautiful” she sniffles before looking at me I see tears are running down her face. I simply kiss them away “please don't hide yourself from me baby” I kiss her cheeks and her forehead “I love you and I care about you I think you're perfect” I say before kissing her lips. Slowly she dropped her arms kissing me back harder I take my hands to her thighs picking her up which we usually don't do she would always complain and get uncomfortable. This time was no different “mmm no vinnie put me down” I kissed her lips squeezing her thighs “i got you I promise baby just to the bed” she finally wraps her legs around me her arms leaving the wall going to my hair. She wasn't even hard to lift let alone carry 20 feet I wish she didn't think and feel this way about her self. I walked her straight to a wall completely skipping the bed.

“I'm gonna show you how beautiful and amazing you are my sweet girl” I began kissing her lips and grinding against her my hard shaft against her bare clit moans spilling out of her mouth immediately. I grab her full breast in my hands playing with her soft nipples as I kiss down her neck whimpers coming from her mouth. My hard cock grinding harder against her as my mouth attacks one of her nipples my hand attacking the other pinching and pulling. Her moans get louder as I switch nipples I leave little hickeys on her boobs and chest making my way up her neck. I could feel her legs gripping onto me and her hips thrusting against mine “oo-ooh shit Vin... I'm gonna cum” she says in a hot breathy tone I kiss her lips pulling one of her knees up onto my shoulder and gasp leaves her mouth letting me enter my tongue I grind faster as I abuse her sweet mouth with my tongue swallowing her moans and pants. Her thighs shaking slightly pulling away I kiss her cheeks grabbing her other leg tossing it over my shoulder so her full body weight was against me and the wall. Her sweet pussy staring me in the face I could smell her and I moaned spreading her legs wider hearing her gasp I smirk “you smell so good baby mind if I have a taste?” she just whines and kicks her legs slightly “mmm I'll take that as a yes baby.”

I say with a smirk dropping my head slightly my nose poking around her clit and my tongue plunged as deep as I could possibly get in moans spilling from my mouth as her taste fills my mouth. Clouds cover my brain all I can think about is making my baby cum. I was making a deep growling sound in my chest and didn't even notice it everytime she tried to pull away from my mouth and nose it got louder almost like a warning to stay still. “Ahh Vinnie baby please” I started to get curious and before I know it I feel my tongue swipe across her pink button and load moan and gasp along with her grinding her hips into my face I assume she likes it. I do it again this time swirling around it making it known I'm doing it on purpose “Vinnie why are you doing that?” she say grinding against me “Do you want me to stop?” I answer her question with a question she throws her head back and moans “noooooo please more!” I pull her from the wall walking to the bed I drop her. Y/n spreads her legs apart looking up at me “butt in the air Princess spread your legs as far as you can get them.”

She flips over her hands and elbows holding her up that's not exactly what I want tho “spread your ass and pussy for me baby” I say with little smirk she lays on her face and knees as her hands pull her butt cheeks apart with a little moan. I look down admiring her sweet little holes staring at me I let out a wolf whistle “damn beautiful....i can't wait to taste you again” I grab ahold of her soft asscheeks in my hands as hers fall to her sides. I lick a thick stripe over her clit all the way to her button slightly entering my tongue before licking around it again “please daddy” I look up at her pushing my thumb in to her greedy pussy “yess daddy more please” I chuckle “what more could you want baby?” she slightly blushes turning her head the other way “mmmm baby Daddy isn't a mind reader if you want something you have to speak up.” I say with a smirk “p-please ea-” she shakes her head and takes a deep breath “please eat me” I chuckle she's so cute “eat what baby?”

I rub her thigh with my other unused hand and kiss her squishy butt cheeks definitely enjoying myself “God I love your bubble butt princess it's amazing If I had my way I would sleep on it, roll on it, and most definitely eat it” I say giving her the ok to ask biting down on her ass “YES YES DADDY EAT MY ASS PLEASE” I laugh before spreading her open and I lay a kiss on her wet hole as a moan leaves her mouth I lick around for a second before slipping my tongue in slightly before pulling out. Her moans and whimpers music to my ears I repeat this a few times till I think she's loose enough to put my tongue fully in “ready my dirty little girl” she moans in response and I slip my tongue fully into her as both my thumbs attack her clit and slit “FUCK DA-ADDY MORE PLEASE” I eat her like crazy shaving my tongue in between both holes as I slap her ass and clit “OOOOH FUCK IM CUMMING” she yells as I feel wetness on my chin and fingers.

I pull away dropping down next to her before turn my head to meet her gaze “sit on my face Princess” I say as I pull her hand she slowly moves over to me with wild eyes I pull her over me before pulling her hips down to meet my face she was completely sitting on my face with all her weight as I dive my tongue in for a third time occasionally slipping it in her butt making her moan and grind against my face “Daddy I'm coming already” she says humping my face with her hands in my hair “MMMMM” she gasps as she cum on my face for the 4 time “fuck princess you ready”

I say as I pull my boxers down she nods as she lays down spreading her legs for me “such a good girl for Daddy” I pick up one of her legs wrapping it around my hip tossing the other over my shoulder before slipping into her. I grunt as her walls squeeze around me I hear her moan “shit daddy your so big” I give a breathy laugh “i think your just tight baby” I say before I thrust into her. Moans leaving both of our mouths as I pound into her I pull out flipping her over and push back in “AH” she groans “you good baby” I say as I thrust softly “ye-YES” I smirk pushing into her as deep as possible “can I put my babies inside of you baby” she gasp and turns her head to look at me “i wouldn't want anyone else to spend my life with and I can't think of ayone I would rather raise my kids with then you baby” she drops her head moaning as she thrust her hips back in to me “flip me back over so I can hold it in Daddy we might not get lucky the first time but it's worth a shot.” Y/n moans grabbing my hand I flip her over putting her legs on my shoulders fucking into her “mmm baby I'm gonna fuck my baby into you honey” I bite and suck at her neck “would you like that?”

She moans and throws her head back moaning “hold it princess please just a little longer” I pant kissing her neck quickly I grab my pillow and shove it under her ass before stuffing my entire length inside of her moaning. Releasing my load deep inside of her before pulling my hips out almost all the way fucking my cum inside of her till I couldn't feel it sloshing around anymore. “Do you wanna cuddle baby” she nods her head I turn her to her side putting her under the cover getting up to turn the light off climbing back in behind her “stay still princess I wanna make sure nothing comes out tonight” she smiles holding out her hand. Knowing she was going to be sensitive I grab it kissing her shoulders and back as I slowly slip my limp cock inside of her before it hardened back up “oo-oh shit Daddy I love your big cock” she says sleepily I pull her close to me kissing her lips “well we love you too” she opens her eyes “ew” she laughs making me laugh too “go to bed brat I love you beautiful” “I love you to handsome I'm very excited to have a mini you running around”

[uraharasandals]

grandafuaghter hewwo may i request a chuuya, ranpo, and (if you are comfy) margaret mitchell headcanon where you are are sick and they gotta take care of you :3 ily fuck school you can do it!!!

hewwo!!! I shall not attempt to disclose your identity by identifying you heheee but yes fuck school we can all do it!!! (also you JUST had to request Mitchell for the heck of it did u)

[Nakahara Chuuya]

- Chuuya, no matter what happens, views his partner/ S/O as his first and foremost priority. Regardless of what sickness you were suffering from, how bad it is or how mild it is, he rushes to your side, even if he was at Port Mafia in an executives' meeting. Yes, he will use his ability to fly home if that meant seeing you as quickly as possible.

- If it was just a cold or something mild (though seriously, who knows during COVID), he tells you to stay home and you're subjected to his constant attention. Chuuya lets himself be ordered around, bringing soup, ice cream, or whatever cold liquids may ease your dry throat. He asks for documents to be sent home, and sets up camp by your bed, waking up earlier than you to make sure you aren't being neglected, and sleeping later just to make sure. This basically means he doesn't get much sleep.

- If you wheedle him for stuff, stuff that's bad for your health, his resolve will waver, but he'll stand firm because your health matters the most. However, if you try harder, pulling all the stops such as the puppy eyes or the compliments, Chuuya may compromise. If you continue at it for like, oh, five minutes, then you'd definitely get what you want. Be reasonable though, if you get too demanding and ask for the moon it may very well have the opposite effect. Chuuya knows his boundaries and he pampers you because he chooses to, not because he's your servant.

- If it was something serious, however, Chuuya knows the extent of his resources and will employ whatever means necessary to heal you. He makes sure you're surrounded by the best doctors, the best medical equipment and hospitals money could offer. Nothing would prove too expensive for him if it meant healing you.

- If you had to stay in a hospital, Chuuya will be there for you. If you had to undergo surgery, he'll wait for you. Chuuya doesn't care how long it takes, he'll wait for you as long as he needs to. He knew how hard it was to suffer alone, and he sure as hell wouldn't leave you alone to it. If the doctors keep him out, he'll find alternative ways to send you his love.

[Edogawa Ranpo]

- At the beginning, when you tell Ranpo you're sick, or when you let out a cough or two, he doesn't really believe you, thinking it was a prank of sorts. 'Trying to trick the great detective huh? Not bad!' Jokingly, he tells you that sweets are the only prescription you need, dumping a generous amount onto your desk before plopping away.

- When it became apparent that you may be actually sick though, Ranpo turns serious. If it was a cold or something, he'd still joke around, though you'll notice his heart wasn't really into it as he accompanied your bedside. He keeps it up though, for your sake, and continue pattering about on his nonsense until you start laughing.

- If it was a wound or physical wound that could be patched up quickly (if you could call that being sick), Ranpo doesn't even bat an eye because he knows that nothing couldn't be fixed without a trip to Yosano sensei's. Or at least, that's what he claims. Secretly he sneaks off to the operation room when everyone else was occupied with god knows whatever, and watches you get plowed away by Yosano's. Hopefully his company makes it less terrifying.

- In the case of you being seriously ill with fatal illnesses, Ranpo gets you to the hospital as quickly as possible. We'd seen that he keeps his calm in dire situations, acting as an able commander in place of Fukuzawa during the Cannibalism Arc, and telling Kunikida to get a grip when he panicked. Ranpo does the same when bringing you to the hospital. He isn't really good at emotional advice, though he tries his best. Ranpo does know about sugarcoating though, and he gives you the most optimistic rundown of your illness as an attempt to comfort you.

- Ranpo acts strong around you, but once he's by himself his facade crumbles. At the middle of the night, he clasps your hand tightly, praying that you wouldn't slip away at the end of the night, leaving him along without anyone to trust. Or he kisses you gently, though it was more for his sake than for yours. Yosano has to directly go to him and figuratively pry him off you so he could get some rest.

[Margaret Mitchell]

- Mitchell doesn't...have much experience taking care of other people. Mainly since she came from a fairly affluent family before it fell from honour, but also because as a key fighter of The Guild, it certainly didn't fall to her to take care of such trivial matters.

- But of course, as her partner you are a special exception. So when you fall ill with a cough or a fever, she braces herself, hitches her skirts and goes about it without a complaint. For whomever she loves, Mitchell will do anything for them. She would still shy away from stuff too revolting for her (I headcanon her as having a weak stomach) like bodily fluids, but she can do things like changing a cool towel on your forehead to ease your fever.

- Mitchell will absolutely not admit to caring for you. She wouldn't throw you under the bus exactly, but she'll deny anything and everything that even hints at her being so soft over her partner. It marrs her reputation, and she has a front to keep. Not just because she's a woman but also on behalf of her family as well. However, she'll quietly consult Hawthorne if there's things she doesn't know. Hawthorne is the only one she trusts, after all.

- If it was a serious sickness beyond your everyday healing, Mitchell would square her shoulders, march off for another opinion, before coming to terms that it was something beyond her abilities. She isn't below begging or asking for help when the situation calls for it, and though she may struggle with her pride, Mitchell will push it down for you. She marches off to Fitzgerald and employs all sorts of methods to make him help you, and she doesn't leave until he agrees. Her reputation as a determined woman didn't come out of nowhere, after all.

- Once all of the technical things are taken care of, Mitchell could finally relax and break down silently by your bedside. She allows no one into the bedroom, shutting the whole world out under the guise of you needing absolute silence for recovery. It's better this way anyways; she'll finally have you to herself for a long period of time, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

[unravelling-the-world]

random thoughts related to kagepro (tw for depression?? death?? suicide ?? implied ?? im not sure and idk what else read at ur own risk)

well idk lately ive been thinking a lot and ik ive uh always (? since i can remember?) have been depressed (i mean...it started around age 12...i dont really remember much before that. most of what i remember are bad moments anyways. or very specific scenes. but they dont feel mine. if that makes sense. its like remembering the scene from a movie.  back on track i guess idk well lately ive realized i actually kin some characters and lately ive...been relating a lot to shintaro kisaragi fromkagepro. i mean its ok. there´s always been that specific similarity in us (after all, how many characters in anime are as related to coca cola as shintaro //and me,,im literally a coca cola addict lmao// well anyways. after some days, this lead me to thinking...to a hidden memory within my brain, i guess. I remember introducing my then best friends, to kagepro. one told me haha he´s like u bc the coca cola!! and i think i just laughed and smiled? i truly didn´t see it? i was sad sure, but i couldnt really relate to him. after all, i was the leader of my own little group of 12 year old weebs,right? (i was also 12 btw) i didnt personally dislike shintaro but i didnt rly see myself in him yknow? also i have loved ayano from ever since i have memory so idk like she´s one of my biggest comfort characters and its weird bc if she was ´´real´´ idk if i could date her or anything but im just glad she exists bc it somehow comforts me a lot yeah anyways ayano essay for another time lol. anyways at this age my favorite characters in kagepro were ayano and konoha ( i still love them a lot) thing is, at this point in my life i didnt know/wasnt aware i was transgender but i already kinda liked he/him pronouns so i roleplayed a lot. online. i roleplayed as konoha obviously lmao and actually one of my irl friends related to shintaro ?? and i think we may have roleplayed lmao and stuff.... she even had a facebook account named shin hikkikomori or smth like that. anyways fast forward bc after being 12 a lot of stuff happened obviously. and none of that relates to kagepro until quite some time. i will mention some items that dont really relate to kagepro but marked moments in my friend group that may be relevant later on. Around 2016)? Some of my closest friends changed schools (but we kept contact) yet i still had a big group at school. But it got fragmented along the way. 2017 i went to Japan and formed a new, different friend group with people that even today, are dear to me. When i came back, my friend group fragmented more. I kept contact with other members of the old group but one on one, not as a group anymore. 2018 we graduated, and i broke up my realtionship with one of my former best friends (2016-2018) 2019 was a year of change, and even though i was afraid and shit got weird, i was not doing too bad. i will skip that. Well. Im sure we all know 2020 was a trainwreck, shit happened. i had a villain arc. I lost my shit,definetely. Ups, downs, whatever. 2021 has not been too different. However, even through everything, in early 2020, i kept close relationships with my friend group. as the year moved forward and the restrictions started lifting ( thank you government very cool <3 //ironically obviously, this is the reason this shit wont go away//) some of my friends saw each other irl and stuff, or talked about stuff i didn´t understand/didn´t want to hear while on discord. I felt alienated. I felt empty. I got mad at a friend for the first time, for something he said. I ended up isolating myself. A friend celebrated her birthday. She invited me and never excluded me, asked me a lot of things and asked to virtually include me. But that would just make me feel more alienated, wouldn´t it? I told her it was ok, i didn´t go. Honestly, I felt like a bother. I didn´t want to bother. I wasn´t okay, but i didn´t want to bother anyone, so i isolated myself. I had a very bad breakdown. lasted weeks. When I recovered, it wasn´t the same. It felt like everyone else was closer, while i drifted away. I kind of recconected with some of my friends from Japan after this. In the vacations, i felt like i reconnected with some friends just to drift away again later. However, i never could reconnect with one of my best friends. She never really got mad at me or anything ( i think) but we don´t really talk much anymore. We used to talk daily, be it actual talking, memes, anything. I don´t think we´ve actually talked in weeks. There´s nothing I can do. This year, another friend had a birthday, but I was so disconnected from everyone I didn´t even care. I mean. It´s all broken now, isn´t it? The other day I just started wondering. When did I start relating to Shintaro so much? I had always been like this, hadn´t I? Who am I, actually? Why do I relate so much now? It´s not just about the soda. I had lost friends before, but I never really felt like that. Sometimes I feel like I´ve lost everyone. In a one year span I became a hikkikomori. About a month ago, when I entered classes, I was recognized as Shintaro pfp and I admitted to kinning him to people i´d never talked to before (on chat) // I decided to go apeshit idc anymore about what anyone thinks of me// I had fun. I think I must´ve posted on my stories, because two different people told me they were the ene to my shintaro. I appreciated it. i mean it´s kinda true bc now that i´m only on the pc they do bother me online and try to get me to open up or get better but sometimes the just annoy me lmao but also not bc they all have their own particular lives and they all seem to be doing better than me. Still, my classmates are very nice and inclusive. But it´s not like im close to any of them I guess. I´m just alone now. I´m fucked up man....I don´t feel real anymore. I don´t really know who I am. I guess that´s why I find comfort in seeing a part of myself in Shintaro? But when did i turn out like this? Why didn´t I relate when I was younger? Well, I hadn´t really lost any friends back then. I now know how painful that is. How lonely it is to be alone even when there is people around. idk. and i´ve always been quiet. introverted. shy. a loser. yet now whenever i meet anyone i try to idk connect? but i cant. i wish i could be more evil. maybe it´d just be easier if everyone really, truly hated me. maybe i´d get the strength to actually kill myself then. it´s weird. i really see myself in route xx shintaro. I know that´s fucked up because I know how it ends. but truly, i was trying. I was healing, i think i was going somewhere. and i was trying to keep my newly formed renovated friend group together. I really was trying to. I didn´t mind if we had sub groups on the big group, but we were all there for each other. I tried my best. I felt like i belonged. but now im alone again. and this time there´s nothing i can do. if something, i´ve made it worse. and i keep making it worse. it´s weird. when i first got into kagepro, both shintaro and ayano felt like adults. i thought they were really, really big. im older than them now. now i know theyre not really adults. i get it. i still feel 18. after all, these last two years have been taken away from me. i didnt waste them myself this time.  i feel like a rotten 18 year old...when i listen to lost time memory, i just...get it. i always liked the song. i thought the story was so cool. when it first came out.. i still remember. iwas there. i waited for it. i loved it. i still do, but back then, i just saw it all as some really great and cool song. now i feel like i really, really get it. i love it even more. im hiding away in all my memories. but what is my true heart? what do i really want? i don´t know, i don´t know... If I'm 'wise' then, I can't face forward; I have no reason to so, I'll rot away instead It would be nice if time could be turned back. Years may pass but I'll never die I repeat hopeful words to myself, even though I know I still won't be able to reach you. "It doesn't matter, just die already!" I said as I clutched my wrist, simply cursing it. Unable to do anything, I merely indulged myself in life. "If summer can show me dreams, then let's go to before you were taken away" The days where I hid my embarrassment are illuminating upon the atmosphere and burning my mind. If I'm wishing for a dream that can't come true, then I'll embrace this blurry past and have a dream which I don't wake up from and naturally seclude myself from the outside world. "But that means you can't even see tomorrow?" I don't really care 'bout that, so it's ok I stained my hands in order to kill these boring days I'm choosing "solitude" after all A rotten boy at 18 today too, prayed again while clinging on to your colored smile Underneath the blazing sun Asking "Somehow, please take me away instead of leaving like this!" and my murmuring breath was quietly stopped

I guess i just wish someone could actually help me. take me out of this hole. Maybe some kind of closure would be nice. It´s not the same, though. I don´t have enough bravery in myself to actually kill myself. Mostly because of guilt. I can´t take the guilt of dissapointing everyone. I don´t want my parents to get hurt. I don´t want my bunny to miss me. Yet i wish everyday for it to be over. Lately, half of my dreams have been in Japan, with many friends, some who i met there, some who have never been there. Yet my brain shows me the dreams before it was all taken away. I think one of my favorite parts of the day is dreaming. I like to sleep simply because I dream. And i sleep very few. mayb bc i hate myself? I still barely indulge in life. I do anything to stay distracted. If i think, it all goes to shit. it all does. like now. Heh. it´s funny. I guess no one is truly my ene, because no one actually knows how mentally fucked up i got these past months. No one knows how badly i´ve been treating myself and how badly i´ve been doing. Still, i can´t tell anyone but scream it into the tumblr void. No one has to keep up with my shit. No one has to take care of me. After all, it was I who chose solitude. It was me who kept them away. But I don´t get a second choice. I don´t get a change of routes if things go sour. And i guess I don´t get to get a mentally fucked up friend group where I belong for a second time. Once was good enough, wasn´t it? I.. Even when I wasnt as deep as i am now (again) into kagepro, ive always wanted to die on August 15. It holds meaning to me now as well. Every year I used to ask people to go out with me that day. I know im not brave enough to kill myself. I always hoped for a lil miracle i guess. Last year was the first year...I didn´t do anything. I just... I just hope this year i can make it. I hope the miracle happens this year....I can only hope......its too late for me to be saved, isn´t it? I never thought it´d be like this. I don´t get closure. I don´t get goodbyes. I am left behind on a world that keeps moving. I am nothing.

[7-wonders]

Service With a Scribble

Summary: Duncan’s a dick to a cashier, and (Y/N) decides to get back at him with a healthy dose of kindness.

Word Count: 4063

A/N: This got way longer than I thought it would, so I made it a full-length imagine. Enjoy!

Based on this ask from Anonymous: 

For the coffee shop AU: Duncan is a sourpuss in the mornings, the barista notices how he treats the cashier so they end up drawing cutesy things on his cup to “brighten” up his day (but also to tease him a bit). Duncan is about to complain but the drink was the best he’d ever had so he lets it slide and holds the drink in a way to hide the drawing. This continues for weeks, the drawings getting more elaborate until one day they stop and the drink is subpar. 1/3

Duncan asks about the usual barista and finds out they’re just out for the day. The next day there is no drawing but the drink is excellent. This continues for a few days and Duncan gets concerned, he’s formed a weird bond with this barista and sort of loves the weird stranger-ship they had. He asks to meet the barista and is immediately infatuated with them, but the barista seems subdued. 2/3

Then I would imagine Duncan doing everything in his power to brighten the barista’s mornings, and then of course they fall in love and happily ever after lmao. Sorry this is quite long, but I love coffee shop AUs

He’s not a morning person, at all. 

Duncan supposes that most people don’t enjoy mornings, but that fact doesn’t really matter when it’s his morning that’s less-than-enjoyable. His routine is always the same: wake up, stumble to the bathroom and attempt to get ready without falling asleep again, and drink ungodly amounts of coffee until he starts to feel almost human again. The coffee at his office is subpar, which is the norm in all offices across the DC area (and in all offices around the world, but again--his problems only apply to him, at least in his mind). Since Duncan is incapable of making his own coffee without burning it, he has to wake up even earlier in order to get coffee at his favorite coffee shop on the way to work.

This particular morning is especially rough for the mogul, who drank one too many whiskeys at a charity event for the Shepherd Freedom Foundation last night. The expensive alcohol created a hangover that he hadn’t experienced since college, and Duncan prays that this isn’t related to the gray hairs he found speckling his facial hair last weekend. He refuses to take his sunglasses off as he walks in the undercast Metro weather, only folding them up into his coat pocket when the soft lighting of the coffee shop makes it bearable to not squint. The mere smell of roasting coffee beans acts like a drug for him, giving him the strength to make it to the front of the line. The indie music filtering softly through the speakers, the ambiance, the local artwork: none of it matters in this moment.

The cashier is new, or at least new to this shift. Duncan’s never seen this short man with bright blue hair before, and he’s not pleased that his order will not be automatically known as it is to the rotating door of familiar cashiers he’s seen before. The employee stutters his greeting, looking down at the register as he asks Duncan for his order. Sighing tempestuously, Duncan forces his eyes to not roll as he places his order. 

“Large Americano, three shots.” Duncan doesn’t have time for flowery language and polite small talk, curtly speaking and already passing a crisp five to the cashier: he’s had the price of his order memorized for months, now.

“$1.45 is your change--oh no!” The cashier gasps, hands scrambling to pick up the change that he’s dropped on the counter. Duncan glares at him, nearly yanking his money back into his waiting hand. 

“Thanks,” Duncan spits sarcastically, “your complete and utter lack of a brain has made my day so much better.” He knows he’s being unnecessarily rude to this person who already goes through enough shit while working in the service industry, but the anger floods through him quicker than he can count to ten. 

The barista, who is also working her first morning shift after two months of being the afternoon barista, rolls her eyes at this stuck-up guy who thinks he has the right to talk to Zack like that after a simple mistake. That’s one of the things (Y/N) hates the most about this city: all of the rich white men who believe they’re so much better than everybody else solely due to their last names. An Americano is not difficult to make, so she busies herself with a different pursuit as the espresso steams. Uncapping the permanent marker with her teeth, (Y/N) decides that this man could use a little laugh to cheer up his day.

“Large Americano, three shots!” (Y/N) calls, setting down the coffee on the front of the counter. She’s a little disappointed that she can’t wait to see this customer’s reaction, but she’ll be in deep shit if she doesn’t get this order into the suppliers before 10, so (Y/N) disappears into the stockroom.

Duncan picks up his drink, ignoring the scalding of his taste buds as he takes a long drink of his long-awaited drink. His eyes widen, but not due to the sudden lack of feeling in his mouth. This, Duncan reluctantly admits to himself, is the best damn Americano he’s had in a long time. Examining the cup, his expression quickly morphs into one of confusion and burgeoning anger. His order’s written on the paper cup, but there’s also something else: a drawing. 

It’s easy to tell that this was quickly done, a doodle with some thought behind it. There’s a little stick figure that Duncan assumes is meant to be him, an angry expression and what looks like a couple of dollars in his balled-up stick fist evidence enough for him. There’s a sun above the drawing of him, peeking out through the rain clouds that hang directly over the drawing’s head. A little note accompanies this Picasso’s masterpiece, the nice handwriting reminding him to “cheer up, it’s Thursday!” 

Duncan grits his teeth, having half a mind to complain until he gets whatever barista fired, but another drink stops that thought. Although he’s never had a bad coffee here, this particular drink, by whichever particular barista decided to try and be funny, surpasses any expectations he previously had. Plus, the longer he looks at the cup, the more he has to fight the smile that threatens to fight its way onto his face. However much it hurts him, Duncan...supposes he could let the issue slide. For now, at least. 

He can’t find whoever made his coffee, the only employee around being the cashier who is still warily watching Duncan out of the corner of his eye. Oh well; if they work here, they’ll be bound to make Duncan’s coffee again. On his way out, he pauses right before he opens the door. 

“Sorry...about earlier.” He cringes at how the apology comes out, but the cashier nods slowly.

“Have a nice day.” When the door closes behind Duncan, the cashier scoffs and angrily scrubs the countertop. “Dick.”

//

Duncan’s visits to the little coffee shop three blocks away from Gardner Analytics only increase in frequency, the brunette sometimes finding himself there multiple times a day. He knew almost everything about this barista that had managed to captivate him from the first day that little cartoon had showed up on his coffee cup. Their shift, however long it was, always ended by 11; his coffee was just fine if he showed up in the afternoon. They were quick-witted, managing to create more and more elaborate drawings with each day that passed (Last week, Duncan had actually laughed when he turned the cup around to see that the logo had been turned into Batman--a topic the customer before him had been enthusiastically speaking to the cashier about). 

Sometimes the drawings were funny, little jokes that only Duncan and his mysterious barista would know. Other times, they were quite beautiful. Miniature cityscapes of a dreary Washington, made vibrant by the multiple colored markers used to draw the scene. A silhouette of a bridge, a lone person standing on top of it while a little boat floats beneath. That had been a particular favorite of Duncan’s, the only pop of color coming from the red balloon the person on the bridge was holding. He had taken up the habit of saving these cups, carefully washing them out and displaying them in an empty cupboard in his empty apartment that greeted him with nothing but silence every night (fuck, he really is lonely).

The one thing that Duncan still does not know, however, is who this barista even is. Everyday he receives the best coffee he’s ever had along with a personalized cup, and everyday he can never manage to catch who it is that’s drawing on his cup. He starts to think that all cups have drawings on them, which would make sense if it weren’t for the few times his name had been included in the design. Maybe his barista designs them when they’re sitting in the back?

(He’s right, but he doesn’t know that it’s become as much a part of her morning routine as counting the tills and turning on the ‘open’ sign. She has a stash of Sharpies now, all in a variety of colors that remain tucked in her bag until she has the chance to use them on her favorite customer’s cups. She’s not sure why she’s become so invested in providing a smile to this man’s day; maybe it’s to spite him, or maybe it’s because, for that moment when his eyes light up and his gaze searches for the artist he’ll never find, the one who watches sneakily from the back as he attempts to finally catch her in the act, she feels her heart flutter in a way that it never has before.

He doesn’t know, and he won’t know, she constantly tells herself. He’ll stop coming one day, or get sick of the drawings and finally complain like he should have on that first day. It will stop, and so will the way her breath catches in her throat when the door jingles open and his bright blue eyes are revealed from behind his reading glasses--a new addition to his wardrobe, although she would never admit to knowing enough about him to have realized that he suddenly started wearing glasses.)

//

The sixth time this routine, this dance of Duncan looking for (Y/N) after (Y/N) presents his large Americano in a newly designed cup, has happened is when her coworkers start to tease her about it.

“He totally likes you, y’know?” Marina, a pastry chef who likes to work early mornings, asks. Her large brown eyes stare (Y/N) down as she becomes flustered, shaking her head and focusing intently on scrubbing the coffee grounds out of the bottom of the industrial sink. 

Duncan had left maybe ten minutes ago, his search once again proving fruitless after she quickly made his coffee and then just had to go wash the dishes. It’s become a game for her coworkers, all of them giggling as they slyly watch to see if Duncan will ever catch her or, the more likely case, if (Y/N) will allow herself to be caught.

“Please, he’s just a customer. He doesn’t even know who I am,” (Y/N) says, shrugging off the possibility.

“Uh, are you blind?” Jeremy, another barista, chimes in. “He looks for you every single day, sometimes twice a day. He always comes in at the exact same time, and always looks at your drawing before trying to see who made his coffee which he never will, since we make the coffee behind the order window.”

“Plus, if he was ‘just a customer’ then you wouldn’t draw on his cups like you do,” Marina says.

“Did you two plan this out?” (Y/N) asks, throwing the rag in the towel bin and putting her hands on her hips.

“It’s only a matter of time before one of you gives in, and my bet’s on you.”

“My bet’s on Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome,” Jeremy says, placing a tea on the window and calling out the order.

“Yeah, well prepare to be waiting for a long time.” Grabbing two trash bags that need to be taken to the dumpster, (Y/N) sticks her tongue out at her snickering coworkers before opening the back door with her hip and disappearing into the mid-morning sun.

//

Every logical part of Duncan’s being screams at him to stop this odd infatuation with the person who makes his coffee and takes enough care to go out of their way and personalize a cup for him, but he just can’t. Nobody’s ever cared that much, which is a conversation for the therapist that he’ll never go to see. In a way, he feels like he knows this barista, like they understand him. It’s stupid, and Duncan’s sure the drawings are just a way for the bored employee to pass the time until they can leave, but all logic leaves him whenever his thoughts land on this person with no face. He can’t stop how his heart speeds up when he enters the coffee shop, hoping that today will be the day where the mystery finally unravels.

It’s Thursday, exactly a month after the first time Duncan found that little stick figure version of him on the back of his Americano. The date, this little ‘anniversary’ that Duncan wasn’t aware he had been anticipating, is not lost on him as he enters the familiarity of the coffee shop he’s come to know so well. After his less-than-stellar first impression last month, he had quickly come to know the cashiers extremely well. Still, none of them would divulge the name of his favorite barista, claiming that it wasn’t their place to do so. 

He’s going to do it, he’s decided. Today will be the day that he finally asks to meet his barista (his barista, a misnomer he’s had to use whenever he thinks of the artist whose name it seems like he’ll never learn. It’s probably uncouth of him to be claiming this person who he’s never met, but he can’t help it.) Placing his order, Duncan stands next to the counter and tries to hide how impatiently he’s waiting for his coffee.

The first thing he notices is that there’s no drawing on his cup. He frowns slightly at this sudden deviation from the routine that’s been cultivated, but assumes the shop must just have been busy all morning. His barista, he surmises, likely just didn’t have the time to work on a drawing. 

Duncan hadn’t realized how refined his taste had become to the large Americano that had been made for him daily by only one person, almost recoiling when he takes a sip of his drink. It’s not as if it’s bad, but it’s not the same as how he’s had it everyday for a month. Like it was before he got that first cartoon, his coffee is just fine.

Walking back up to the cashier, Duncan hardly waits for him to look up before he’s speaking. “The barista, the one who normally works this shift?” Duncan tries, and fails, to sound like he’s not that interested in the question that he’s asking, and it goes understood in the unsaid second part of his question. The cashier looks conflicted, like he’s not sure which information would be okay to share.

“She had to take the day off today, some sort of family issue.” Duncan’s chest warms at this small gift he’s been given, knowing now that he’s her (whoever she may be) customer.

“Oh...” Duncan trails off, not quite sure what to say.

“She should be back tomorrow? I’m not sure though,” the cashier offers helpfully. 

“Thanks.” Duncan leaves reluctantly, only reassured by the renewed vigor to seek his barista out tomorrow.

The next day, Duncan’s on high alert for any sign of the woman he’s come to care deeply for. He’s not sure what he’s looking for; a ponytail, or a soft figure that’s utterly feminine? He doesn’t know what she looks like, but he’s sure that he’ll know who he’s looking for when he sees her.

For the second day in a row, there’s no design on Duncan’s coffee cup. He’s disappointed, sure that she must have had to extend her unexpected absence until he tastes his Americano and realizes that it’s his barista’s Americano. His heart starts to pound, and he tries to look as if he’s not going to jump out of his skin. 

“Hi,” Duncan greets stiffly, the cashier hiding his smirk behind a cough. “Is...the barista that normally works, is she here?”

The cashier, who had his money in the work pool on Duncan cracking first, nods. “Yeah, I’ll go get her.”

Any coherent thought that Duncan may have had goes flying out the window when the door is pushed open and he finally comes face to face with his barista. He’s not sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. Her big eyes light up when she sees Duncan, lips curling into a smile, as she runs a hand through her hair nervously. Her smile is already Duncan’s favorite part of her. It’s the kind of smile that allows her radiant personality to shine through, warming anybody who’s lucky enough to be in its path. 

“Hi,” Duncan says, the only word he can force out that isn’t stuttered mumbling.

“Hi,” she repeats. “Did you finally get sick of my little scribbles?”

“Yes--no, I meant no!” he assures. “I’ve actually really enjoyed your drawings, and they’ve become my favorite part of my day. You also happen to make the best coffee I’ve ever had, which is definitely a plus. But then you weren’t here yesterday, and it sort of threw me for a loop.” Her smile falters slightly, just long enough for Duncan to see the sadness that lingers in her eyes.

“I had...uh, a family emergency yesterday.” Her grandpa had fallen down a set of stairs at his home and broke two ribs that nearly punctured his lungs. At the hospital, he had also taken the opportunity to allow his doctor to explain the secret he had been desperately trying to hide from his family: Alzheimer’s Disease.

The disease had been caught early, during a routine checkup when his regular doctor had asked him how the newest great grandchild (barely a month old) was doing and he couldn’t remember the baby’s name. A few tests later, and the devastating diagnosis had been handed down. (Y/N)’s grandfather, ever the strong patriarch, hadn’t wanted to share this with his family until it started to become worse. That plan, however, flew out the window when he lost his footing at the top of his staircase.

“I can’t believe you actually liked those stupid drawings,” she continues. “I just started it to get back at you for being a jerk to Zack, and then I saw how happy you got when there was another drawing the next day. It just kind of snowballed from there.”

“I don’t think they’re stupid!” Duncan interjects. He’s prepared to launch a crusade, letting her know just how talented she is and how he doesn’t know what he’d do if she were to stop, ending it with the carefully-placed question of when her next day off is so that he can get to know her properly, when a voice from the back yells for her. Duncan’s stunned at suddenly learning her name; it fits her, and it’s a lot better than calling her ‘his barista.’ She looks over her shoulder, wrinkling her nose when she sees the delivery truck with the weekly stock fulfillment. 

“Looks like that’s my cue.”

Before she goes to turn around, Duncan finally remembers how to speak once again. “(Y/N)?” She stops, looking at him. “That’s your name, right?”

“Yeah, it is.”

Duncan smiles genuinely, not one of the forced smiles he slaps on whenever he’s meeting with a client or donor. “I’m Duncan. It was wonderful to finally meet you today, (Y/N).” He can’t stop saying her name, the syllables rolling off his tongue smoothly and leaving behind a taste better than the finest coffee in the world.

“It was nice to meet you too, Duncan.” His heart nearly flips when she says his name, giving him a small wave before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Duncan remains frozen in his tracks, still staring at the spot she once occupied, as if blinking will wash away her existence like a shimmering mirage. His mind does loops, replaying the brief conversation in his head over and over again until her voice is all he can hear. Duncan can’t get her eyes out of his head, that brief flicker of sadness a problem that he needs to solve. He can’t watch this person, who’s given him so much happiness, feel anything less than happy. Strolling up to the counter, Duncan smirks at the wide-eyed cashier.

“Tell me,” he says smoothly, “what does (Y/N) like?”

//

(Y/N)’s stuck making drinks the next morning, the shop being too short-staffed for her to work on any of the other tasks she needs to complete. It’s a pretty steady shift so far, the cooler weather drawing more people to come in and get some warmth before braving the rest of their commute to work. She just wants to get through this shift, her mind on the problems she has to deal with while her muscle memory goes through the motions of creating the drinks she could now make in her sleep. She doesn’t even hear when Jeremy calls her name the first time, only hearing him when he gently bumps her shoulder. (Y/N) looks up at him with wide eyes, silently wondering if she’s messed something up.

“Shit, Jer, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to zone out,” she stammers out an apology.

“I wasn’t trying to get your attention because you’re in trouble or anything. Honestly, you can still make drinks better than I can even when your mind is a million miles away.”

“Okay, so what’s up?” Jeremy has a tendency of forgetting what he was talking about if he gets going on a different subject, and this seems to be the case. 

“Oh! Your Prince Charming is back, and he’s asking for you again.” She looks at the drink she’s just finished making, seeing that it is indeed a large Americano with three shots. There’s no design on the cup; not because she’s decided to stop, but because she just hasn’t had the time or the energy.

“Should--should I take this out to him?” Jeremy looks at her with wide eyes, nodding slowly like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. 

“Yes! Go, or else I’ll swoop in and steal your man,” he threatens jokingly. She picks up the order, smiling when Jeremy shoots her a thumbs up before ushering her out the door. 

Duncan’s cheeks are already pink as he stares down at his phone, trying not to look like he’s waiting for her. He’s holding a small bouquet of brightly colored flowers, most likely having forgotten his mother’s birthday or some other important event.

“Hey, Duncan,” she greets, setting his coffee down in front of him. “Sorry, there's no design today.”

“That’s okay.” Duncan holds the flowers out towards (Y/N), biting his lip and attempting not to show that he’s nervous. “These are for you.”

“For me?” (Y/N) takes the flowers from him, their hands briefly brushing against each other before she quickly pulls her hand back. She smells them, smiling brightly up at Duncan. “These are my favorites! Nobody’s ever bought me flowers before.”

“Why not? You deserve all of the flowers, and so much more.”

“Thank you, Duncan. This was really sweet of you.”

“You just...looked so sad yesterday. I wanted to brighten your day like you brighten mine.” (Y/N)’s cheeks heat up, and she looks down at the flowers instead of looking into his eyes for fear of getting more flustered. 

“Duncan,” she nearly whines, not good at taking compliments.

“It’s true, and you should be told that everyday.” Duncan reaches across the counter and puts his hand on top of hers, making her stare at him with surprised eyes. “Listen, (Y/N), I’d really like to get to know you when you’re not wearing that cute apron of yours.”

“You do? My drawings impressed you that much?”

“Your drawings increased my interest in you, and meeting you has made it impossible for me to not ask to see you outside of your job.” He smiles at her, leaning in closer from over the counter. “So? What do you say?”

Instead of answering, (Y/N) holds a finger up and fishes a marker out of her apron. Uncapping it with her teeth like she did on the day that she first decided to draw on Duncan’s cup, she scribbles one last masterpiece for him before handing it over. He quickly scans what she’s written, smirking and letting go of her hand with a nod. ‘I’m off at 12; lunch?’ Her phone number directly follows the question, a smiley face drawn next to it.

“I’ll be here to pick you up at 12, then.”

“I’ll be the one in the apron.”

//

Tag List (I’m on a time crunch so I’m just tagging a few homies): @lvngdvns @wroteclassicaly @ccodyfern @cocosfern @langdvnshepherd @divinelangdon @1-800-bitchcraft @venusxxlangdon @mega-combusken @tcc-gizmachine

[carbonitekisses]

I’ll Be Coming For Your Love, Okay? (final chapter)

[AN: After season eight I, like many others haha, had massive writer’s block. It’s been a while since I posted (both on AO3 and tumblr). Anyways, I started this story before I had a tumblr so the last chapter of this fic is the only one on here. If a reincarnation/time travel-esque AU interests you, you can read the other five chapters on AO3 :)]

Chapter summary: Willas walks ahead and Sansa hesitates before following suit. Normally Sansa would stop by and chat for a bit with Jeyne at the reception desk but she doesn't want to interrupt. She's ready to walk by and head straight to her office when Jeyne calls out her name in obvious relief.

Frowning for the first time today, Sansa redirects her route. The man Jeyne had been speaking to turns around to face her so quickly it's almost comical.  

She would laugh to herself but then she see his face. For a second (or two or three...) Sansa's reality shatters before piecing itself back together into a kaleidoscope of bright colors and pure light.

Also on AO3

//

Bliss, he thinks, this is pure bliss. Her lips upon my lips, her breath mixing with mine. What need do I have for food or water when she is here? When she kisses me like she remembers?

“Let me never wake.”

“You’re not dreaming, love,” Sansa murmurs, and Jon opens his eyes to something he had resigned himself to never again see on her face. Recognition. Love. Joy.

Could it be true or will he wake to find her gone, her side of the bed empty and cold like it has been for the past year? Jon knows he wouldn't be able to survive if she were to leave him again. One time was one time too many. Each day had been filled with duty and routine until Ghost dragged him to the heart tree two days ago. The world seemed to right itself when he saw her laying on the grass before the heart tree. For the first time in a year Jon felt whole again. 

“Are you,” Jon tries to swallow past the hope that chokes him, “are you here? Are you here, back with me?” His hands slowly, shaking, reach to hold her face. “Have you come back to me, dear heart?”

”Yes, yes, yes.” With each affirmation she brings herself closer to him, lifting her dress until she’s able to straddle his thighs. His hands carefully wander to rest on her waist. It's a pleasure like no other to simply have her familiar weight atop him. “I was here—I was always here. It was strange. I felt trapped within what I knew to be my own body. And after the vision with the blinding light, somehow, the other presence was gone. And it was only me.

“I don’t know how I am alive, how I am home. All I know—” She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, kissing the scarred fingertips “—is that I am grateful to be with you once more. It's a blessing, it must be.” His hand remains encased in her soft grasp, resting in the space between them. “After all we have lost the gods owe us this much.”

Her gratitude reminds Jon that it is because of him that she ever left the world of the living. It was my own hands that killed her, he pulls his hand away from hers in self-disgust, I killed her.  

"If I hadn't plunged Longclaw through your heart... Forgive me, love." Jon shakes his head in anger. He is greedy asking for forgiveness. He is selfish. "Forgive me, forgive me—"

Sansa cuts him off. "No more. You don't need my forgiveness, Jon. If you hadn’t killed me the world of the living would have ceased to exist. Our family and our people would have fallen."

Jon is inclined to disagree. It must show on his face that he is more than willing to argue because Sansa pulls his face to hers and kisses him wildly, leaving him no air with which to voice his disagreement.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Jon," she repeats once more. Her fingers nimbly unclasp the cloak she made for him so many moons ago. They pause and wander to the jerkin where grey fabric peeks out from underneath. A watery sob leaves her as she takes out the favor she had made for him before he left for war. It is almost weightless, so thin and worn it has become. The direwolves and winter roses haven't lost their color and Sansa looks at it in awe. "You kept it... after all this time."

"Everyday. Not once could I bear to keep it anywhere else but near my heart."

And it's true. The square piece of fabric, lovingly stitched with Sansa's own hand, had been a poor replacement of his wife. Nevertheless, it gave him hope. Hope that perhaps the red priestess was right. That some day Sansa would return to him. 

And now she's here in his arms.

Warm. Safe. Alive.

He brings his forehead against hers. Shares the air with her. He has been relieved of an emotional weight he has carried ever since he saw her blood paint the snow. "Never leave me again." He kisses her, drowns in the mere fact that she is here. Here, here, here. The next word comes out strangled and heavy. "Please."

Strong, kind, lovely Sansa Stark presses her smiling lips to the corner of his own. "I love you. As long as you love me—"

"Always." In life and in death. In whatever exists in between and beyond.

"Always is a long time."

"Always is not long enough. Not for us."

The truth. A spark. Firelight catches and dances in her hair. Sansa launches forward and takes him. He gives himself willingly. She undoes the lacing of his jerkin while her hips begin to move in a rhythm that leaves Jon completely in surrender. Any and all thoughts of books, visions, and gods of light flee into the night. “Always,” she whispers, she prays. His love, his wife, dips her head to kiss slightly underneath his jawline, whispering a request along her trail of kisses. He hardens underneath her touch. It's been so long, so very long. 

“I’ve missed you, husband. I only ask you to love me... Love me, Jon.”

And so he does.

// 

Sansa's eyelids refuse to lift under the weight of sleep. The last vestiges of a dream cling to her memory. Cold, cold snow... a fire... a man... a name. J-Jo—hmm. Joe? Jonas? Joseph? Her motor skills finally succeed in opening her eyes to the world. It definitely started with a “J”. Joel? I definitely wasn't dreaming about Joffrey. I'm sure of that, at least.  

The muscles in her neck strain and her bones creak in protest as she makes to stand up from the couch. Disoriented. That's how she is feeling. Unbalanced, too, if her trembling knees are anything to go by. Last night...what happened last night? If it were the weekend she would chalk it up to a hangover but it's Friday morning and she didn't go out last night. 

Sansa picks up a book from off the floor. She turns it around to look at the cover. A man and a woman are embracing underneath a heart tree. She vaguely remembers the book. it feels different... even if I can't remember much of it right now. Did she fall asleep trying to read this? Sansa quickly thumbs through ink-filled pages, trying to recollect something, anything, about it. 

"Where did—Oh!" Sansa recoils as her mind registers the time being displayed on her watch. She woke up later than usual, having seemingly forgotten to turn on her alarm last night. An hour. She has an hour to shower, change, and get to work. Pressed for time, she puts the book back into its manila envelope and then into her work bag along with her reading glasses.

She'll work out the mystery book once she gets to her office.

Without wasting any more time Sansa absentmindedly starts her favorite playlist on Spotify. Mornings are better with music.

Take on Me by a-ha starts to play.

Sansa groans.

Here we go again.

// 

The morning sun melts the small crumbs of her dream into oblivion until Sansa forgets that she even dreamed at all. 

Things are looking up for Sansa Stark after such a rough morning. And if the air feels cleaner, or time itself feels fresher... Well, Sansa won’t be the one to complain. Although, the time constraint did mean she was unable to make herself her usual cup of coffee. That's one thing I will allow myself to complain about.

Still, good-naturedly, Sansa steps into the brownstone building that is Grand Maester Publishing. It feels good to be here—on time!—as she greets the coworkers she passes with a smile and a hello. The elevator ride to the third floor is full of pleasant chatter with Willas, a fellow editor who just learned that a book he worked on will soon be turned into a feature film.

"How exciting!" The elevator door dings open and they step out and into the lobby. "I'm assuming there will be a reissue with cover art relevant to the film?"

"Most likely; I actually have a meeting today with the author." He checks his watch. Behind him, Sansa sees that Jeyne isn't alone at the reception desk. Though she can only see his back she can tell the man is stressed and agitated. Willas speaks and she looks back at him. "I'll let you know how it goes later, yeah?"

"Please do."

Willas walks ahead and Sansa hesitates before following suit. Normally Sansa would stop by and chat for a bit with Jeyne but she doesn't want to interrupt. She's ready to walk by and head straight to her office when Jeyne calls out her name in obvious relief. 

Frowning for the first time today, Sansa redirects her route. The man Jeyne had been speaking to turns around to face her so quickly it's almost comical.  

She would laugh to herself but then she see his face. For a second (or two or three...) Sansa's reality shatters before piecing itself back together into a kaleidoscope of bright colors and pure light. 

She swallows and tears her eyes away from the man and looks at her friend instead. "Hi, Jeyne. Do you need me?"

Seven save me. I know I'm a romantic but fuck I'm being overdramatic. Goosebumps litter her skin. He's not even that good looking. She tries to discreetly look at him once more. She fails; he was already looking at her. Okay, that's a lie. He's handsome. Beautiful, even. But still. Keep it in your pants, Sansa Stark. Sansa flushes and hopes that whatever Jeyne needs her for is resolved quickly.

Jeyne looks apologetically at the stranger. She gets right to the point. "Sansa, do you have the manila envelope that I dropped off at your office yesterday?"

Oh, so she was the one who delivered this to my office. Well, that's one mystery solved.

"Yes, it's in my bag." She takes it out and keeps a firm grip on it; an oddly possessive feeling washes over her. The man beside her slumps in, what she can only describe as, relief when he sees the envelope. Confused by his reaction she asks Jeyne, "Why?"

The grey-eyed man answers instead, speaking for the first time. His voice reminds her of smoke and dark chocolate. "That envelope, it's mine."

Sansa stands there dumbly, speechless. Wait. What?

"I am so sorry for the mixup." Jeyne's hands are twining and twisting around each other. Her friend and coworker is such a gentle and caring person. She loathes causing problems or inconveniences for others. "I thought the envelope was addressed to Sansa. It was an honest mistake, I swear."

Apparently her distress is evident enough that even the owner of the book notices. His face softens, the stress that furrowed his brow dissipates, and he offers Jeyne an awkward, comforting smile, "I'm sorry for worrying you so much." He turns to look at Sansa. "Honestly, it's my fault. If I hadn't been in such a hurry and written Sam's name more legibly this wouldn't have happened."

At this remark, Sansa looks down at the scrawl on the envelope. Hm. Everything after the S is messy. If she scrutinizes the writing she can kind of make out the name. "Sam Tarly? The literary agent? That's who this was meant for?"

"The one and only," he says with a grin that speaks of pride. "I'm to meet with him later to discuss the book."

The book isn't hers. It wasn't meant for her. She has no right to it. And still, it feels wrong to let it go. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But return it she must. 

Just then a woman comes up to the receptionist's desk, and Jeyne whispers an apology before turning away from them to attend to the woman. She and the man with the handsome voice move away to let Jeyne work. 

Her arm is stiff as she finally hands over the book to its rightful owner. 

Their fingers touch briefly and Sansa nearly drops the envelope. Ridiculous. Utterly RIDICULOUS. Be cool, woman! He doesn't seem to notice but the genuinely happy smile he grants her throws her into a tizzy again. Who does this man think he is, affecting her in such a way?

"I'm being all sorts of rude today, I never even introduced myself." He holds out a hand. It hangs, waiting in the space between them. "I'm Jon Snow."

Cautiously, she places her hand in his. She knows it's ludicrous but if she had to describe his touch she would describe it as warm, safe, and alive.

"Nice to meet you, Jon Snow." His name tastes sweet and rich. "I'm Sansa Stark."

He smiles again, "Sansa Stark." She thinks he makes her name sound sweet and rich, too. "A pretty name." He grimaces and his ears turn red. "I didn't mean—uh, I'm sorry. It is a nice name. I just—" He's flustered and it's a new side to him she hasn't seen yet. It's endearing, really. He may look broody and mysterious but it's almost comforting to know this stranger, Jon, can be just as awkward as she is.

She can feel herself blushing but pays it no mind. It's a compliment no one has given her before but Sansa likes it. Her name, an old family name, is pretty and it's time someone said so. The corners of her lips upturn into a pleased smile. "Thank you, Jon Snow."

They stand there for a moment just smiling at each other.

There's something here and maybe it is a bit ridiculous to fancy a connection between them but Sansa feels brave. 

What if he's not interested in me in that way? What if he already has a girlfriend? What if— No. I'm done with what-ifs. Put on your big girl pants, Sansa. You have to put yourself out there if you want something in life. And if he's already in a relationship, well, one can never have too many friends.

Sansa shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "You said you had a meeting with Sam?"

He clears his throat and promptly answers, "Aye, some time around one. He's not coming in to work until after lunch hours."

"I know this is quite sudden but would you be free to discuss the book with me beforehand? My schedule is clear today and I'm just really interested in the book and would like to learn more about it. I didn't get a chance to read it last night but there's just something about the book itself that really spoke to me." I'm rambling. Sansa cringes internally. It's true that I'm curious about the novel but out of all the times to word vomit...  "You don't have to if you don't want to!" 

Jon looks surprised at her request. In the couple seconds it takes him to respond Sansa wishes the ground would swallow her whole. It only gets worse when she notices that Jeyne has been supervising their interaction with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

Surprised he might have been but he answers her with a grin that wrinkles the corner of his grey eyes. "I'd love to."

//

Jon didn't expect his Friday morning to be like this. Especially not after the anxiety and worry he had felt last night. Nonetheless, he increasingly finds himself grateful for whatever choices or divine power led him here. Here with the increasingly wonderful Sansa Stark.

They've been talking for hours.

She's an editor and has been working with the publishing house for almost five years. Yes, she's from that Stark family but she's not pretentious or snobby at all. That isn't to say that her impeccable manners and obvious upperclass rearing don't intimidate him, if just a little. He's not unaware of the ways of the great houses of Westeros (he may be a bastard but he's a Targaryen bastard) and he can tell there is genuine warmth and interest when she speaks to him.

"I still can't believe you found this at an estate sale and you were practically gifted it by the owner," Sansa's voice is a near whisper and filled with incredulity.

Incredulity has been a latent feeling during their conversation and it all began when they read two names within the book.

They had started off sitting opposite each other at her desk but had quickly transferred to the moderately sized loveseat in her office. It was easier to look over and study the book together this way. It was also easier for Jon to talk to and infatuate himself with the smart redhead sitting next to him.

They're currently reading the last legible section in the book. The writer's husband seems to be on his deathbed and she writes about how she feels her soul will not wait long to be reunited with him once more. Jon has read the book before but he feels as if he is truly reading it for the first time with Sansa, at moments, reading it aloud. He also can't shake the strange feeling that perhaps he had never actually read the book. But that would be unfathomable. Why would he not read a book with words in it?

"Neither can I. If I'm not mistaken this could have been written centuries ago." It's a theory that he has no way to prove (yet) but is uncharacteristically confident in. Sam's expertise will be immeasurable and doubt-breaking. Sansa hands the book back to him, slowly and gently. "Sam's the expert on historical writings so hopefully he'll help me understand just who wrote this. When he worked at the history museum with me he was the one to go to about these sorts of things," Jon fondly remembers how his friend's work docket never seemed to empty. "Even though there were more than ten people in his department."

"I've worked with Sam before—he always finds amazing stories and authors—I'm sure you couldn't find anyone better to help you figure this out." She pauses and uncrosses her legs. "Now, I'm no historian but I am an editor and..." Her eyes land on the book currently being held in his hands. "I think this might be semi-autobiographical. Maybe, quite possibly, written as a diary or a journal. The tone and style is extremely intimate." She hesitates before speaking again and he notices vulnerability bleed into her voice. "The sections that are still legible remind me of how I write in my own."

Years of being extremely socially self-conscious helped him notice how quickly Sansa seemed to regret voicing a personal detail. If he hadn't been looking at her so attentively (she has gorgeous eyes) he wouldn't have noticed it, so adept was she in calming her features. Not wanting to make her feel that her implied trust was misplaced he hummed in gratitude for her professional and personal input. "Huh, that is actually very helpful. It would explain why there seems to be such a lack of details. If this were a diary, written for personal use, it stands to reason the writer wouldn't need to explain things like a commercial writer would." Sansa shows teeth when she smiles. Really smiles. It's warm. He likes it. "Although, it is a bit odd don't you think?"

Coincidence. The word is too small. A word with bigger significance is in order. Fabricated? No, sounds too cold. The editor, with sensibly attractive black heels, blushes and opens her mouth to speak but seems to be in the same predicament as him. Preordained? Now that... sounds almost like destiny. Almost too big.

A crisp, bitingly endearing laugh. "I wasn't sure whether to mention it." It is something Jon has noticed about Sansa. She does not seem to like causing discomfort—be it real or imagined. It is easy to think everyone has this trait. However, Jon's experience with people from all walks of life has proven that to not be the case.  "But yes, it's odd. Maybe weird?" She says this like a question they both know the answer to. They do. And Jon laughs. "Okay, definitely weird. I mean, what are the chances that there is both a Sansa and a Jon in the book?"

Almost.

It's probably the strangeness of the situation that made them avoid call the writer by her name. Or to call the husband by his. Because if Jon's theory, and Sansa's hunch, are proven right then that means there existed a Sansa and Jon before them. A Sansa and Jon whose love and life filled countless pages with words handwritten by a woman who thought them worthy of ink and time. Though many of the words have faded or been damaged they still tug at his heart. And Jon would bet it does the same for Sansa. 

I feel bubbly, Jon thinks. Bubbly like the feeling of a fizzy drink in his mouth. Like an adventure about to start. Like a newly discovered military artifact that he can't wait to analyze and date. To be frank, Jon has never described anything as bubbly. Yet something about Sansa makes him think it the most appropriate. As a true pessimist, doubt and caution in the name of self-preservation make him lean back a bit from her. He hadn't noticed how close they had gotten. Way to over-exaggerate a moment, bud. She could be in a relationship for all I know.

His pocket vibrates. Sansa had pulled away as well and briefly glances down to the source of the noise. "I take it that's Sam?"

"Probably." Jon pulls his phone out. "Aye, it's him. Says he just arrived at his office."

It's time for him to leave. Sam is here in the building and he should leave before he gets too invested in what could only stay as a pleasant meeting between strangers.

He gets up and picks up his jacket. The book weighs heavy in his hand. 

Sansa stands up and smooths down her skirt as she does so. He hadn't noticed but the skirt has pockets that she now puts her hands into. "Tell him I say hello. It's been a while since we bumped into each other." She tucks her hair behind her earring studded ear. "Feel free to let me know what ends up happening with the book."

Is this...hm. If Jon weren't so jaded by the punches of life he would interpret this as an opening to ask for her number. He wants to but a pit of fear gurgles inside him. Rejection. Better to keep my heart safe. Sansa seems like the kind of woman that would ruin him for any other. In all the best worst ways possible.

"Will do." I won't. "It was a true pleasure meeting and spending time with you, Sansa Stark." Was that too formal? Yeah, it was. Goddammit.

"The pleasure was all mine, Jon Snow."

They shake hands one last time and Jon leaves.

//

Shit.

//

He immediately walks right back into the warmth of her sunlit office. 

It's worth taking a risk. A little bit of optimism never hurt anyone. Sansa hadn't moved but her head snaps up at the sound of his entrance. She's surprised and he's clearly caught her unaware. Her lips part and she takes a step back, bumping into the armrest of the loveseat. Okay, too late to back out now. 

"I just realized we didn't exchange business cards." He tries to act cool but is hindered by the struggle of digging through his wallet for a card. "Here, it has both my cell and work numbers. And email." She can read, idiot. Way to point out the obvious. 

Sansa takes it. She studies it for a bit and Jon knows he visibly relaxes when she meets his eyes with a smile. She turns on her heels and grabs her own card from a clear business card holder sitting on the edge of her desk. 

"Here. Mine also has both my cell and work numbers." Her eyes are glittering with what he can confidently describe as mischief. "And email."

The card design is elegant and sleek. And sure enough her cell number is on there.

"Thanks. I'll.. text you, after I meet with Sam." Might as well go all the way. "Or if you're free after work we could go get coffee? A drink? Let you know what Sam could figure out."

"I'd like that!" She uncrosses her arms and stands leans her weight to the left. "And, yes, I'm free tonight."

"Well, guess I'll see you later, Sansa Stark."

"Sansa." She rolls her eyes, minutely, in good humor. "Just Sansa."

"I'll see you later, Sansa."

"See you later, Jon."

Jon waves at her and leaves; he's kept Sam waiting long enough. He's practically jogging to Sam's office. People are moving out of the way and giving him odd looks. It's probably because he's grinning so wide he must look manic. Jon doesn't know what the future may bring but he knows that Sansa is someone worth knowing and learning more of. Simply stated, he likes her. Something about her calls out to him. It's beyond physical attraction. It's... it's something he caught glimpses of when she smiled, when she fidgeted with the ring on her middle finger, when her hair reflected the sunlight coming in from her large office window.

Jon doesn't even have both feet in Sam's office before his friend says, "What happened? Why are you smiling like that?"

"Nothing." It's an obvious lie. His lips stretch more and it hurts. But he can't stop smiling. "Ready to solve this mystery?"

[niallsfoolsgold]

Thin Walls and Fireworks

it’s been months since i last posted any work and i’m really sorry for that, i just haven’t been feeling my writing. this story is probably filled with typos because i haven’t edited it yet, and i have really mixed feeling about the whole thing (mainly the ending). thanks for reading at your own risk!

(not my gif!)

There are three things you should know about Emery before you really start reading this: 1. She wakes up at exactly 7:13 am every morning (she has literally timed how long it takes her to get ready and get to uni so that she can get a maximum amount of sleep every night while still having five extra minutes in case a traffic jam happens). 2. She listens to her spotify playlist specifically made for her morning showers everyday and she sings along because it helps her wake herself up faster. 3. The walls in her apartment are extremely thin. She quickly found the third thing out when she consistently heard music—different guitars and pianos mainly—blasting throughout her home at 1 a.m. within the first month she lived there. She tossed and turned on the frigid December night, and prayed to whatever god there was that the music would quiet down. Yeah... her prayers went unanswered.

She was annoyed to say the least. Her boss had called about an hour ago and said that she would have to work the next day after she had asked for one day off after working every day for the past three weeks. So she had pulled her thick grey comforter over her shoulders to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra, pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose, and took a quick glance in the mirror to make sure that she didn’t look too hideous. After that, she trudged her way out her door and down the carpeted hall, hoping that whoever lived next door wasn’t a complete asshole—her old neighbors in her previous apartment were which was one of the contending reasons for her moving elsewhere. She raised her hand to knock on the door, and mentally stopped herself, taking a deep breath and wondering what the fuck she was going to say. She hadn’t mentally prepared enough to meet someone new, especially not if they were rude, but she knocked on the door anyways; softly, but hard enough that it would be heard even through the music. When the door opened up, it was not what she expected, not at fucking all. Standing there was a tall, decently-muscular-well-built, gorgeous, greek god of a looking guy. He looked like the type of person she would allow to stab her twenty times if he asked nicely; hell, she would let him stab her even if he was rude. And if she wasn’t already ashamed of how messy she looked before she had seen this guy—it didn’t help that she remembered her landlord mentioning that he was famous—she really was now. “Can I help you with something?” She’s pretty sure he has the most angelic speaking voice she’s ever heard. He literally seems like he could possibly be a walking angel, coming second in the “perfection” genre only to Jesus Christ himself (she only thinks that because she’s almost certain that Jesus must’ve been decently perfect... being the son of God and all). She feels like she’s almost lost her voice, like she’s all choked up and unable to breathe just at the sight of this guy. Her eyebrows are raised only in the slightest before her lips begin moving and words are created. “Um—yes actually,” she speaks softly, “I really don’t mean to be rude or come off as pushy in any rude way, b—“ She’s cut off before she can even finish, but she doesn’t even care because she’s cut off by a breath of laughter from him before he looks back up at her. “It’s the loud music mixed with the thin walls, yeah? I’m really sorry about that. I’ve been gone since you moved in I guess so I’m not used to having a neighbor,” he spoke. She nods her head lightly at him. “That’s exactly it, actually. I’m sorry for asking,” she begins, “it’s just that I’ve got a early shift in the morning and rest is needed, ya know?” “It’s fine, don’t worry,” he offers another polite smile, and fuck, she nearly melts like a popsicle on the Fourth of July. She mutters “goodnight” to him and he does the same back as she’s turning to speed walk back to her apartment down the hall. Her heart feels like it’s about to beat out of her chest. *** Emery had a long day so far. That’s really all she wanted to say about it; it had just been a really fucking long day. It started out by thinking she overslept, and therefore freaking out about being late for work, only to find out that her boss had forgotten to tell her that her shift had changed to a night shift and she didn’t have to be in until five this evening. That threw her incredibly off track for the days activities. She went from there to get some last minute things from the store that she forgot when she had done her grocery shopping, but she realized in the checkout isle that she had left her wallet at her place and all she had was about $7 in her pocket. She decided to use that money to buy some coffee to wake her up, but then some asshole bumped into her in the shop and spilled her coffee all over her white shirt, and then proceeded to yell at her like it was her fault. And fuck, by the end of all this happening, it was only ten in the morning. So yes, she was absolutely batshit pissed at how fucking terribly her day had been going. She had finally managed to make it back to her apartment and wanted nothing more than a hot shower to relax her, and then maybe take a nap before going to work later on. She slings her jacket onto the dining table and kicked her shoes off by the front door. She really didn’t even bother to get clothing to change into in the bathroom (living alone really had its perks; she could walk around naked if she pleased, just not on the balcony, and not with the curtains opened). Stripping herself from her clothes and making sure the water was the right temperature beforehand, she hopped into the shower with her bad day playlist that’s titled “for your stressed-out-bitchy days”. She hummed along softly, singing the words softly as she got farther into the song. She was really confused when she started hearing singing from the other side of the wall; singing the exact words at the same time she was. Shawn—her devilishly handsome neighbor—was someone that she had only talked to a few times since she had asked him to turn his music down a couple of weeks earlier. He was nice, literally almost always. She had never seen him in a bad mood, and he often talked to her if they happened to get into the elevator at the same time, or if they passed each other in the hallway. He asked simple questions about her, like how old she was, how long she had lived here, stuff like that. In some cases it could have been weird, but he seemed nice enough and simply a friendly person. There was no doubt in her mind that her greek god of a neighbor could actually hear her, but it made her giggle just a bit when he had even joined to sing along (although it wasn’t that surprising since she had recently learned from her landlord that the reason he was famous was for singing). It was dumb that something as stupid as her next door neighbor singing along to her music—who we can’t forget is absolutely gorgeous—made her day seem a little bit better than it was before. She dries the wet drips of water off of her body with the white, fluffy, hotel-like towels that she loves more than her own life. Everything was quiet when the music was off. No more singing through the thin walls with Shawn, just quiet. In all honesty, she was kind of happy for the quiet, even though his voice was still kind of angelic. It had been such a long ass day, she was just ready to lie down before going to work. So after drying her body off and changing into her most comfortable items of clothing—her favorite pair of leggings and a sweatshirt that was much too large for her—she crawled into her bed, turned on her most relaxing music, and drifted off to sleep. *** Words are unable to describe how much she dreaded to go to work later on that evening after she woke up. It was still a bit rushed getting ready for work, but thank fuck that the owner of the bar was chill and her work attire consisted of jeans and a black shirt (of any kind, just no graphics), and having her hair up. After changing and slipping on her favorite coat, she put her hair up, put on one of the best faces of makeup she probably ever had in a short amount of time—honestly though, her eyeliner is on fucking point—and left with her keys and purse in hand. The backdoor to the bar squeaked a little bit when Y/N opened it up, setting her things in her designated shelf that the manager had bought so that the employees things wouldn’t be unorganized and disheveled everywhere. Her name tag was on the same shelf and she pinned it onto her shirt after taking her coat off. “Hey darlin’,” one of the workers, Tess, spoke to her, Tess’ sweet southern accent dripping from her lips. Tess was a twenty-something year old girl that had moved from Georgia in order to try be closer with her dad (her parents had divorced when she was young, and she had always described her mother as “a backstabbing, no good, pussy-ass-bitch, who deserves to choke on her boy toy’s dick”... she really has a way with words, okay?-). Tess had been there for Y/N since they had started working together, the both of them becoming close friends quickly due to not knowing another soul within a hundred miles. They weren’t necessarily sisters, more like each other’s favorite cousins at family reunions; they gossiped about other people, shared problems, and talked about the cutest guys and girls (because honestly fuck people who say you can’t love who you want to) that came in and spilled all the tea about each interaction with said guys. (Tess actually has a girlfriend named Margot, but honestly the two in the relationship knew that Tess was a natural flirt and couldn’t stop herself even if she tried, despite the both of them being very in love with one another.) “Hey love,” she responded, giving a small grin to the girl that she adored. Tess gave a small wink in return, making Emery’s grin grow wider. The bar wasn’t very busy right now, but that was mainly because it was only five o’clock and most people were just now getting off work while Emery was just getting started. It was weird to have a working schedule like that, and it sucked ass when it came to studying during the school year. But once again, her manager, Mark, was pretty chill—besides the times when it was obvious that the place was going to be busy, just like on Friday nights like this one—and allowed her to get off in time or come in late, just so that she could get some of her school work done. The first two hours of her seven hour shift were brought as hell. People shuffled in and out, maybe buying a drink or two, and then leaving immediately after paying. It annoyed her that people did that sometimes. If people were only going to buy one drink, then why not just buy a bottle of whatever they wanted from the store? Then they would be able to have one drink every night for a long time. She was certainly surprised when Shawn walked in the bar, a couple of guys following him in and she assumed they were probably his friends. They were all laughing about something that must have been said outside and cracking more jokes to go along with it. She did her best to ignore all of it—more specifically just all of them in general because she refused to get internally flustered with Shawn like she had when they first met—and went back to combining some of the partly used alcohol bottles with others. It was boring but it would also maybe get her out of socializing with someone that made her really fucking nervous for no reason. She almost did it too, almost got away with pretending to be distracted until— “Hey, neighbor.” She looked up from the two bottle in hand and nearly choked on thin air. There he was, Shawn, looking fine as hell and all he was doing was standing there. “I didn’t know you worked here,” he commented again. She placed she bottles on the bar and leaned against it, fake confidence taking over he features. “If you come here often then I’m not sure how. But then again, I’ve worked here for seven months this and this is the first time I can remember seeing you around,” she replies. Her cold hands were so close to shaking but she did her best to still them. “Hmm,” he hummed, “Well this is the first time I’ve been home for more than a couple days in about seven months, and I didn’t know about this place up until one of my friends,” he paused, turning around and pointing to one of the guys in the group that walked in with him, “told us all about it last month.” She raised her eyes at his comment, slowly nodding her head once, letting him know that he must’ve been correct. He doesn’t say anything else, just looks at her for a minute and now she’s really fucking nervous with her fake confidence fading away into a imaginary black hole. “Oka—Uh, well do you guys want anything to drink, or are you just really wanting some conversation?” she’s freaking the hell out inside. She wonders how she got those eighteen words out of her mouth. He nods, looking back at his group and does a quick count of how many people were in it before turning back. “Just 6 beers is all.” When she takes the tray of beers to the table he and his friends are sitting at, she can her them laughing again, and the doubt makes her wonder if they’re laughing at her or at something else, but she hopes it’s the latter. She gives a quick smile as she places the dark glass bottles in the table before turning around and going back to behind the bar. *** The night didn’t seem to last long enough. Contrary to what she had assumed, the shift she worked tonight wasn’t that bad. It was filled, but not overcrowded—despite it being New Year’s eve, but then again, most people were at clubs instead of actual bars—which made her job eighty-five percent easier than usual. Plus, most of the people didn’t care how long they waited; they were just waiting for the year of suffering to be over with. Shawn and his friends ended up moving to the actual bar counter and made conversation with her while she made drinks. They had all been curious to know what it was like living next to Shawn, to which she responded with “fine, besides him blasting music late at night when I have to work the next morning.” He had playfully rolled his eyes at that, to which she winked at him when no one else was paying attention (and fuck when that happened she was so confused because where the hell did that little bit of confidence come from?). That’s what the entire night consisted of; laughter, questions, and subtle flirting between Shawn and Emery. A pang if disappointment came inside her when they announced they were leaving after only about an hour and half of staying, but it felt a little better when they had promised to come back, and even better when Shawn winked at her on his way out the front door. She did her best to clean up as fast as fucking possible in order to get back to her apartment, promising Tess that she would do everything in her power to stay awake long enough tonight to call her and tell her why and how she knew the “super hot famous dude that looks like he could be a fuck boy but is most hopefully not” (a.k.a. Shawn). She knew she drove fast on the way back; and it wasn’t to see Shawn even though she almost hoped that he would blast his music loudly again so that she could go over and just see his face again, but he didn’t. He was pretty quiet, actually, and she almost thought there was a possibility that he wasn’t even home until she heard faint humming from the other side of the wall. She smiled, rolling her eyes at the fact that he seemed to love music so much that he couldn’t go without listening to some for of it (even if it was himself) for more than an hour. But the humming didn’t seem to stop, and then music was turned on, and then the music was turned up just enough to keep her awake. Her feet patted across the tiled floor and into her her slides, the top half of her body engulfed in a hoodie that was much too large for her, her hair falling loosely and messily, and her face clean and free of makeup. She knocked on his own door, and it swung open almost instantly. He was still dressed in the same clothing from earlier, looked almost the exact same, but his eyes were a little bit more soft and sleepy (basically just fucking adorable, but what’s new?). All he had to do to know what she needed was look at the slightly raised eyebrow; it was the same look she wore just a couple of nights ago. Emery opens her mouth but Shawn beats her to it, “Turn the music down?” There’s a small smirk on his face. She slowly blinks with a nod. “You got it,” he says. She turns around to walk back to her place with her hands in the pockets of her black Adidas sweatpants when he catches her attention again with his voice. “Hey, um,” he pauses and she turns to face him again, “fuck, this may sound really weird and kinda creepy ‘cause we’ve only talked like, I don’t know maybe five time, but do you wanna come in?” She raises her eyebrows at him with the tiniest grin at how nervous he seems to be with his rambling. If this is how she is, then she really understands why he seems to be smiling at her so much, but she doubts she’s actually this cute while doing it. “It’s just that it’s New Year’s Eve, and I have no idea if you’re alone, maybe you’ve already got people or a person at your place, but I know that it sucks to be alone because you see everyone together and shit... but if you are alone, you’re welcome to come over. Only if you want to, obviously,” he rambling again and she doesn’t even bother to hide the little grin that’s growing on her face. “Yeah,” he looks at her with his eyebrows raised just a little bit. “I’d love to come over. Let me grab my phone and I’ll be right back?” He nods and she practically speed walks back to her place, grabbing her phone from her room and going back out the door, but not before looking in her little mirror to make sure she looked at least somewhat decent. Fuck, she was freaking out. *** Emery decided that Shawn is possible her favorite person now (and for sure her favorite celebrity, even though she knows he’s so much more than that). It was a little half past eleven, and both Emery and Shawn were half drunk/a little tipsy on an unknown type of champagne that Emery insisted was amazing—and obviously Shawn trusts her word on alcohol because she’s a fucking bartender. It’d be weird if she didn’t know—and Shawn just happened to have a bottle of it. They were giggling at the stupidest things, sitting next to but facing each other on Shawn’s sectional, and waiting for the ball drop in New York. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me that your brother was choking on a lego, and you didn’t do anything about it?” “I was five, Shawn! I didn’t know what to fucking do!” Emery exclaims back. “Plus, he was fifteen years old, he knew better than that anyways.” He shakes his head at her jokingly and she looks up at him. “What about you?” she takes a sip of the sparkling drink from her glass. “Do you have any siblings?” She can see his eyes light up slightly when she asks him this. “Yeah, a little sister. Her name’s Aaliyah, she’s five years younger than me, and she’s fifty times more awesome than myself,” he chuckles. Emery smiles at how much he seems to care about her, even if he’s hardly talked about her. She’s about to open her mouth to say something when cheering from the tv that was mounted up on the wall erupted, taking the attention of both of them. It was the countdown. She started mouthing the numbers along with all the people in New York, shifting in her seat to get a better look while Shawn does the same, the ball slowly dropping until— “3... 2... 1...” and suddenly everyone went crazy. A smile take over her face and she looks over to Shawn, and it almost seems like he might have been looking at her already, but it’s hard to tell because it’s dark and she’s still a little drunk. She does know one thing though, he’s smiling back at her, and he’s a little drunk too. “Happy New Year,” she smiles, her voice is quiet and soft and sweet. And once again, even though she a little intoxicated off of champagne of all things, she thinks she might melt when he smiles drunkenly right back at her. “Happy New Year.” She wants to kiss him just a little bit. She’s not really sure if that’s because she drunk, because he pretty, or maybe because she’s had a little crush on him for a while, even though she doesn’t know everything about like some girls do. But she knows that she wants to know him like that. She wants to know his favorite color, and how much cream and sugar he puts in his coffee (or if he does at all). She want to know why he plays music so fucking loud, and if he likes sunrises or sunsets more. Fuck she just want to know it all, because this crush she’s got is so fucking big, and she want to have it even after she knows these things. But she doesn’t kiss him, because she remembers that she was supposed to call Tess when she got home, and that was about an hour and a half ago. So she pushes her self up from the couch, and she stumbles just a bit but catches herself. “I should probably go,” she says. “I was supposed to call Tess, so she could be freakin out.” Shawn just nods, and she wants to say he looks disappointed, but like it was said earlier, she’s a little drunk and it’s really dark. He stands up too, walking her to the door and even going as far as “walking her home” even though her apartment was only about fifteen to twenty feet down the hall. They stood outside of her door, his hands in his pockets while she fiddled around with her keys (her door had an automatic lock on it; safety first obviously). She finally managed to get the door unlocked, opening it slightly, then turning slightly to wish him goodnight, and that’s when they both realize how close they actually are to each other. Her breath gets caught in her lungs just a little, and she can see that his breathing has increased. They’re both nervous, at least nervous enough, and seems like years pass with how close they’re standing to each other while the both stare at each other, eyes only flicking to each other’s lips when the other isn’t paying attention. He’s the one that leans down, and she knows that she can’t be imagining it, because when his lips meet hers it’s like the New Years fireworks have started all over again, and she’s freaking out. It’s soft, and slow, and she feels like she’s dying inside, but only in the best way possible. But then he pulls away, and she’s a little disappointed, but at the same time she can’t be. She offers another small smile, and he gives one back, and their both muttering “goodnight” to each other at the same time while blushing profusely. Next thing she knows, she’s shutting her door door with a heavy sigh, but a huge smile on her face. And all of this is because Emery has a huge fucking crush on her greek god of a neighbor that blasts music through the thin walls.

[bananashemmo]

Committed The Robbery (Part 5)

Pairing: Y/N/Gangmember!Ashton

Rating: NC-17

Request: Yes

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: On a scale from 1 to shit, how fucked would Ashton be if he ended up banging the other gangmember Luke’s little sister Y/N?

Read Committed The Robbery on Wattpad

Footsteps from the hallway were faint, but still loud enough for you to hear. You had no idea for how long you had been laying in bed not wanting to wake up, or at least trying to open your eyes.

You felt too tired, you weren’t sure how many hours you had been sleeping but it didn’t feel like it was enough. You felt dizzy, probably from the many painkillers and last night’s events hunting you.

God, you felt like it all was just a horrible nightmare.

You fluttered your eyes open, just wanting the confirm of what happened wasn’t just in your head.

The curtains to Luke’s room was off so the grey skies from outside gave the room light. You looked at the cushions where Ashton had been sitting but he was nowhere to be seen. You hadn’t even noticed he left.

You a rand through your hair which was pretty messy. You didn’t have anything to get it away from your face so you settled with using your fingers as a comb.

When you sat up in bed after taking another look, you couldn’t help but grimace.

The pain was obvious, almost like a pounding migraine but on the skin. Your hand came down instantly to the hurt spot, feeling the bandage with spots of blood coming from the stitches.

God, you had almost forgotten. You didn’t want to remember now when you were being honest. You didn’t want to think that this was going to stay with you for the rest of your life.

It wasn’t big, it was easier to see how large the area was when lights were on and you weren’t affected by adrenaline or a pounding bass from downstairs. In fact, it was all so quiet, you could barely hear voices.

You weren’t even sure if the party was still going on. Sometimes you had caught Luke still partying at 8 am. A party never stopped until the host went to bed and he usually just stayed awake to the early mornings.

9:30 it was. You noticed because of your phone still having the battery on. It was only at 2% so it wouldn’t be surviving for long. You decided to put it into Luke’s charter before settling with investigating what was going on downstairs.

The long hem of Luke’s band tee folded to the edge when you stood up from the mattress. It almost hid your shorts and made it seem like you were just in your underwear.

You didn’t want to change, it didn’t feel like it was needed. They knew you had been sleeping in your shorts so you didn’t assume they would misinterpret the situation.

The voices from downstairs suddenly sounded downstairs and you concluded the party was over. You could hear Luke and his raspy voice, something he always adopted when drinking. That, along with his eyes turning a bloody red.

Sometimes he was mistaken for being on crack. You didn’t judge dem, he dealt with drugs daily and it was easy to conclude. But he knew better, he would never take time in using that on himself. He only sold it because of the money sometimes when he wanted to.

It was mostly Michael who spent time in that department. It wasn’t just once the police had taken him to the station overnight when they were catching him illegally selling on parking lots.

”Wait but no, as fun as it sounds I have to stay home. After all the stuff that has been going on the past few days, I don’t want Y/N to be alone now.”

You stopped in track by the end of the stairs because of Luke’s voice.

“I can stay behind if so?” Ashton suggested, maybe a little bit too fast for his liking but he couldn’t control his suggestion. It was the first thing that came to his mind and he said it out loud instead of thinking.

You could see the two of them by the kitchen island with Calum. The house looked like a scattered mess but they had black plastic bags standing by the counters so you assumed they were in the middle of cleaning.

That was the thing with them. They always seemed to mess like crazy, especially during parties. But they always managed to clean everything and usually when you would visit after a party, it looked cleaner than it did on a normal basis.

“You sure about that? You’re usually the one handling the business, let alone the one who’s perfectionistic. You don’t usually like when we handle your tasks.” Michael questioned before Luke got the chance to say anything and he looked over at Ashton a bit astonished.

“I mean we’ve all agreed to take care of Y/N individually.” Ashton shrugged, not really knowing how to save it, “I guess you can just say my duty is calling. I don’t mind, to be honest.”

The boys looked between each other skeptical at first but then Luke shrugged it off and threw his jacket over his shoulder.

“You are the one that gets with her the best.” He admitted and took a look in the mirror to check his hair. Even with battles, he wanted to make sure he looked good during it.

“But you promise me one thing.” He suddenly warned and Ashton held his breath, thinking worst case scenarios.

“Don’t let anyone in unless it’s one of the three of us.”

Ashton hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath but once he realized Luke wasn’t, in fact, thinking the same thing as him he let out a sound of relief. He nodded his head in agreement and watched the boys head towards the door, waving lightly at them as they left.

He turned around the corner to see you come down from the stairs with a confused gaze on your face.

“What is going on?” You questioned confused once you were down to the last step and looked around, “Where did Luke go?”

“The usual,” Ashton replied quietly, his lips tightening.

You nodded your head in agreement but not because you understood what he was referring to. You never had, you had never asked and to be honest you were better off not knowing why. They had always been referring it to ‘the usual’ or ‘business’ when talking about stuff they wanted to keep you out from.

“Why aren’t you with them?” You tried not to pretend you had been listening all along. You didn’t want to realize that they were switching places in order to keep you safe.

He shrugged his shoulders and headed over to the fridge, wanting to change the subject and avoiding giving you an answer.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry.” You shook your head and scratched your arm out of habit. You weren’t sure if it was because of the many painkillers you felt nausea. It gave you a headache, you honestly couldn’t manage the law class later.

“You have to eat something,” He carefully said and grabbed a few buns from one of the drawers.

“Isn’t that just a myth?” You crossed your arms and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” He let go of the bag and took the few steps to stand in front of you.

“You’re on the path of war because I didn’t answer your question. If I know you well enough I know that you already understand what is going on.”

You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, not really knowing how to handle the situation. It wasn’t often you looked at it that way. Ashton was probably used to handling you.

“We’ve all agreed to take care of you. It came along when your parents moved to Wellington.”

He reached to grab the buns and put three in the oven. 2 for him and one for you. He wasn’t going to stop until you had put something in your mouth.

You sighed carefully and nodded your head in agreement.

Most of your life you were raised with your parents. It wasn’t often you saw them, considering they were in the same industry as your brothers. Not just Luke, but also Ben and Jack. They all took a part in the bittersweet life and you were the only one they prayed would turn into something great.

You actually believed that if it wasn’t for James constantly trying to ruin it.

Growing up was kind of harsh. The house never looked clean, nobody was rarely home and if they were, it wasn’t someone you knew off. Luke always made sure that if he wasn’t there to take care of you, some sort of babysitter would.

It wasn’t that you were all wrapped up in bubble wrap. You understood what they were doing, you knew they were handling weapons and you also knew in between the lines there were drugs. But you also trusted Luke. You knew he wouldn’t do such thing like that.

You had always tried to take a distance. It wasn’t easy considering they always had one eye on you. You couldn’t even walk out at the age of 14 without Luke needing to know where you were heading.

He could be an embarrassment at times. He couldn’t keep a barrier between being the overprotective big brother and also being the fun one. He was definitely the fun out of the four, always doing random shit you couldn’t imagine.

He was the one forcing the bullies to apologize, even if you were only 8. You didn’t understand where he got the power because he wasn’t tall until his late teens. It was like one day he woke up and was suddenly 6’3.

Not even the teachers in middle school wanted to call him out for things. You had no count of how many times he had tied someone to the sinks in the bathroom or something along the lines of that because they had said a mean comment to you.

You almost feared he would find out because you knew it would end up ugly. Just like with James. It was like nothing had changed.

You had always lived your life close to Luke. You had been staying at the same apartment since you were 16 and you always knew you could come to him when you needed it.

He always had the apartment full but only with people you knew of. He wouldn’t drag someone home and he definitely wouldn’t drag a woman home. The only girl in his life was you, and he wasn’t interested in anyone else.

You honestly thought you were going to stay at the apartment for the rest of your life. College was what changed your everyday life upside down.

When you tried to float the idea about moving out and into a dorm when you started college, it was like nonsense to Luke. How was he going to protect you, if you were miles away from him?

He didn’t want to admit it but he loved just walking into your room and sitting by your bed. Not saying anything but just enjoying watching you study, seeing whatever programme was on the TV or listening to the music that was blasting from your pink speakers.

You sometimes thought he was bored and doing it out of boredom. But the truth was he enjoyed just watching you be happy. It helped him knowing that you were on the right path.

In the end, he knew he couldn’t keep you inside the walls of the apartment. If you needed to continue the path he needed to let go and give you freedom.

You almost believed he had commitment issues because the second you made the deal and you got into a dorm at Sydney Falls College Campus, it was like he had to move out as well. He didn’t want to stay at the old apartment and the boys had been venting the dream of living together.

It also meant that they didn’t have to leave every single day to see each other, they could just walk into the other room and say hello.

It was in the middle of chaos because just the second you had gotten your acceptance letter from Sydney Falls, Luke came home to announce they had been expelled.

For what, he couldn’t announce. You neither wanted to ask even though you were dying to know. So many things had happened at that college before and you didn’t really understand they were suddenly expelled for good.

Sometimes Luke would come home and announce he was kicked out of class for either violence or similar activities. But that wasn’t expelled where they weren’t allowed to be on the school’s ground.

You weren’t even sure if they were allowed in your dorm. You’d lie if you say you weren’t about to have a heart attack when you were about to move in because the four of them were helping you. You were having a glance over your shoulder every other minute because you needed to make sure nobody was seeing them.

Everyone had heard the news that they were expelled. They weren’t a high topic but it was a relief to the ones who were scared. The boys never had a great reputation and you weren’t surprised by that.

They seemed pretty intimidating when they walked down the hallway as a pack that couldn’t be broken. In their leather jackets with a cigarette between their fingers and black leather jackets.

You had tried asking Luke once but he was rejecting. You didn’t know if it was because you had moved out you were suddenly let out of the information. He didn’t want to answer and told that you were safe without the information.

That was when they announce they were going to be away for a while. You had no idea why, how or where they were going but they had to leave. You were protesting at first because not living near Luke kind of scared you. But in the end, it was a great choice because it meant you got a great start at college without someone watching you behind your back.

You got the start you wanted and three months later the boys were back. It was like everything was back to normal, yet it was some sort of new start.

But as soon as the boys were back, it was like you had become a target. For no reason, you had never done anything to hurt James. You even tried to help him back in kindergarten when Luke was forcing him to eat sand.

“Why are you so afraid something is going to happen to me?” You sat down on one of the white chairs in front of the wooden table.

There was a large purple orchid standing in the middle of the table next to a salt and pepper set. You assumed it was a host gift from last night.

Ashton couldn’t help but chuckle by your question. He was hovering over the buns, watching them finish until they were warm and crispy.

“Because you’re Daphne.” He answered simply and you furrowed your eyebrows, “Daphne Joy?”

“No, no not her.” Ashton was quick to shake his head, “I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about Daphne Blake.”

“You’re seriously comparing me to a Scooby Doo character?” You tried not to sound a bit insulted but you were, “Michael used to call me that when I was younger. It’s not like I’m getting stuck in trees anymore when playing.”

Ashton laughed again and stopped the toaster before he burned the buns.

“I’m not saying you’re a cartoon character,” He hummed and opened the fridge, “I’m just saying that you’re very fragile and the chance of you getting kidnapped is pretty high.”

He grabbed a package of butter, lifting it in the air as an invitation. You nodded your head in agreement and watched him place the butter in front of you.

“Is there a chance I will be kidnapped?” You lowered your voice, feeling a bit of anxiety just by the thought. It had crossed your mind before but the chances were in fact real.

He leaned his long body against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms. His mouth twisted and he looked down at the ground trying to come with an answer.

“We will try our utter best to avoid it. As long as you’re with me I promise you nothing will ever harm you.”

If there was one time where Ashton seemed serious, it was moments like this. Where you could see through his hazel eyes that he would never forgive himself if he managed to hurt you in any way that could have been prevented.

“Ashton, can I ask you something?”

He flicked his curls away from his eyes to look at you and nodded his head. You rubbed your hands together, not really knowing if you were going to catch an answer now.

“What happened?”

Silence fell upon the kitchen. Ashton looked at you with no expression on his face. You didn’t know if it was because he didn’t understand your question or if he was reliving the moment you just asked. Whatever was going on caught all his attention and he wasn’t saying anything.

“When?” His tone went serious and he lowered his voice.

You shifted in your seat and folded your hands together again. His eyes weren’t flicking away from your form and you were trying not to get red cheeks.

“I was just trying to understand-, I mean,” You were fumbling over your words suddenly becoming nervous. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

“Why were you expelled?”

Silence came again but this time a little less tense. It was like Ashton had imagined you would ask something else because he seemed relieved.

He loosened his body from the counter and grabbed a chair to take a seat.

“It seems to me you’ve heard something?” He asked just to be sure but you were quick to shake your head. You knew nothing.

“And you haven’t heard anything from college? I mean, it’s the source of gossip.”

You shook your head again. The only thing you had been hearing was it was a collision between the boys and James’ big brother. You had never actually met him and if you had it was many years back.

“Okay.” Ashton nodded his head and folded his hands together.

“You know Marc, right?” He asked and you shook your head, “Marc Walker? James’ big brother?” By the added question you nodded your head in agreement. You had just forgotten his name.

“He has always been a manipulating ass. Never the one to trust, the blond haired gorgeous idiot who’s only purpose on life is to make everyone else’s end. He’s part-time leader of the gang down by the West. We don’t get near that because it’s too dangerous for any of us.”

You nodded your head wanting him to continue as you intensely ate your bun with butter.

“We’ve always been on bad terms. Ever since high school we’ve hated each other, bloody hell I can even imagine it like it was yesterday. If I had to make a list of all the bad things he has done in his life I don’t think we would have the time.” Ashton took a bite of his own bun.

“We’ve collided many times. I don’t want to get into details with that but Marc did something that was, against all laws. Even in the gang world, you don’t break the rules. Even if we hate each other and want to kill each other we still respect the rules. That’s rule number one.”

The rules didn’t seem like something you had heard off before. You remembered Luke mentioning it a few years back but you assumed it was just a lame joke.

“What was that girl?” You lifted an eyebrow and Ashton replied it with, “We’ll get to that.”

“The boys and I were trying of a way to come up with something back. I mean, it wasn’t easy and it took at least two months before we were even feeling like normal people again. What Marc did was so terrible I honestly don’t think he would be able to survive if he was within my reach.”

You just wanted him to spill the beans, why did you need all these details.

“Luke was the one coming up with the plan. We had to do something that was going to hit James’ the hardest way possible. Without breaking the rules of course.” Ashton ran a hand through his locks, “I didn’t think it would be a great idea at first because it was risky. But we had to do something because he needed something back. He couldn’t just walk free with the things he had done.”

“But I can’t tell you what we did because it will one, cause you danger, and two, put us all in a risky position. Only the four of us can know. It has to be on my dead body if it slips out between these walls. They don’t talk.”

You honestly couldn’t feel more disappointed. He literally told nothing. You could easily have figured out yourself not to mention find out by just asking someone at campus.

“But you have to promise me one thing.” He looked at you seriously and you nodded your head in agreement wanting him to continue.

“If you ever see Marc Walker as in ever there’s one thing you’re going to do. Run.”

You didn’t want to know how dangerous he actually was. By the way, Ashton was talking about him you could just sense he was dangerous. He wasn’t someone you wanted to run into.

“He’s currently underground not wanting to be seen by anyone. So the coast is clear as long as he isn’t in Sydney. He disappeared once we all were expelled. He was supposed to be in jail but left before it happened. We haven’t seen his face since. You can kind of say our secret plan worked.”

Ashton shrugged his shoulders and grabbed your plates to put it into the sink. He was, after all, the neatest out of the boys. He hated when dirty towels were on the floor, good thing it was him and Calum sharing bathroom and not with Luke.

You watched him hover over the sink with a sponge, trying to think everything through. He was definitely leaving out details that seemed important to the story.

You didn’t want to force him to speak though. You never wanted to be on the edge.

When you tried to stand up from the chair a shot of pain was caused by your stomach.

You couldn’t help but groan a little bit, catching Ashton’s attention.

“Oh yes,” He dried his hands in a towel, “I promised Calum to take a look.”

You leaned back on the chair and lifted up in Luke’s shirt for Ashton to see. You didn’t know if he was an expert in wounds but it seemed okay when he removed the patch gently.

“Well he did a pretty great job that Kiwi boy.” He hummed in satisfaction and walked over to one of the cabinets. They had a place where they kept a first aid kit, he probably just needed a new patch.

As long as you would be wearing clothes you couldn’t just have the scar free in case of blood or secretion.

“When can we take the stitches out?” You leaned your head to the side and watched him clean the wound.

“I don’t think until a few weeks. It needs to heal probably. But I’m not a doctor. Ask Calum.” He couldn’t help but laugh a bit. Neither were Calum but he had interest and probably new.

You nodded your head and looked down at your phone. You couldn’t help but sigh heavily and Ashton noticed.

“What?” He nodded his head down at your phone, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that…” You looked down at the phone again, hesitantly, “I just have a class here at 12. I just don’t want to go because…”

“James is there?” Ashton finished your sentence and you nodded your head in agreement.

You knew this wasn’t supposed to ruin your classes but you honestly felt so weak. There was no way you were ready or able to do an argument with him. You just wanted to be invisible.

“I have an idea.” He announced and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Come with me.”

“Ashton I don’t think this is a good idea.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, your teeth digging into your bottom lip.

He looked into the mirror of the window and wrapped his gray beanie over his curls so they were only sticking out at the top and by the ends.

He turned around to look at you with a smirk and furrowed eyebrows.

“What do you mean this isn’t a great idea?”

He was wearing a dark purple/blue and red flannel, a white tee under it and his black skinny jeans. You had never seen him wear something like this before but it wasn’t like he looked like someone who was suddenly in disguise.

You didn’t know if you were supposed to answer or not because he seemed to have settled his mind.

“You know he won’t touch you if you’re near me.” He placed his hands in his jean pockets and looked at you with a smile.

“Yes,” You nodded your head in agreement, “But you’re expelled. They will take you to the police station if they find out you’re in one of my classes.”

“They’ll need to catch me first.” Ashton winked and opened the door, “Ladies first.”

When you meant everyone you meant EVERYONE was staring at you. You weren’t sure if it was because people had the expression you had a new boy at college with you or if they did see it was Ashton. He wasn’t that hard to recognize.

You didn’t like the attention you were getting but Ashton seemed to enjoy it. He was smiling all over his face pretty amused.

You walked into the classroom with Ashton right behind you, wanting to get to the top of the stairs and take a seat on the back row. You never liked being up front.

As you placed your books on your seat you felt pokes on your shoulders. You couldn’t help but feel goosebumps up your spine.

“Well look who was brave enough to show up today?” James grinned by the sight of you, “Surprised you didn’t breath to death. There’s still blood on my knife.”

“That’s funny because there isn’t blood on my gun, yet.” Ashton showed up from your behind, placing an arm on your shoulders.

With instinct James took a step back, watching Ashton smile all over his face.

“And before you say anything,” Ashton nodded down at the lector, “Remember I never miss with a bullet.”

James swallowed deeply and hurried to take a seat in front of you, feeling his long legs disappear under his table.

You looked up at Ashton and couldn’t help but smile just a little bit, a warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach when he took a seat next to you and waited for the class to start.

[kindcstguardian]

MISC.

i. / basics.

Name. Lynn Darcy. Nicknames. Troublemaker, sweetie, Candy Birthday. Age. 17-23 years old. Nationality. French. Languages. French, English &&. Spanish. Gender. Cis female. Sexuality. Bisexual. Status. Single. Occupation. Student &&. part-time worker in Cosy Bear Café. Speciality. Finding solutions to problems that aren’t hers and, instead, causing them in her own. Hobbies. Jogging, boxing, taking care of plants, ocasionally playing basketball.

ii. / physical.

Height. 160cm / 5′ 3″ Weight. 50kg / 110 lb Hair color. Brown. Eye color. Green. Blood type. O + Appearance. A petite female with a slightly built body  ( at the moment due her newfound interesting in boxing ).  Long hair naturally straight with chocolate brown pigment alongside green eyes.

VERSES.

Main verse. TAG.  「 MAIN ／ Lynn 」

Highschool student, 17 years old.  As a transfer student, she is a bit clueless and lost at the beggining. However, she quickly got used to the institute and learnt every little secret of it. Still, this does not apply to actual people. Lynn does have a lot of friends, though, and is quite close to Kim due having her as lab partner in Chemistry. But she doesn’t get along with Amber, Capuccine, Li or Charlotte. Peggy is on thin ice. Ah but, ever so caring Lynn — she can’t help but always want to help everyone.

MCLUL verse. TAG.  「 SECOND MAIN   ／ Lynn 」

College student, 23 years old. Canon divergent.  Mostly based on what’s taking place in the canon of My Candy Love University Life — except that Lynn never cut ties with all friends and kept in touch with Kentin alone, she still has a hopeless crush on Nathaniel but hasn’t gotten herself involved with anyone, keeping everysingle friend at arm length. So, no route Lynn?

Third main verse. / A different outcome TAG. 「 THIRD MAIN ／ Lynn 」

College student, part-time worker in Kentin’s bakery, 23 year old.  She didn’t want to be bossed around by her parents, neither leaving the city she grew to love. In fact, she wanted her freedom but Lynn wasn’t having it so easy.   From a side, her parents had stood their ground but so she did, fully determinated to stay. They all bickered and argued, raising their tone than trying to find a solution — that was, until Aunt Agatha got in the middle and decided to take care of the situation.   After much talking and convincing, she persuaded Lucia and Philip. Thus, leading Lynn to win only one obstacle from the many that would appear in her road.   Happily that she got to stay rather than losing all connections, she first started to help Kentin before deciding what she wanted to do with her future.

Fourth main verse. / What if? TAG. 「 FOURTH MAIN ／ Lynn 」

Highschool student, 17 years old.  So what if she could see the relationship stats that she had with other people? Like, a visual novel game? Well, that was about it! It was strange but she could not see options at all, she had free speech ( thankfully ) which allowed her faster to either improve or fuck up further her relationships.

Persona 5 verse. TAG. 「P5 ／ Lynn」

Highschool transfer student, Star, 17 years old.   ‘ You have truly made me wait, I am known for being impatient, ma fille, but I will allow it this time ’ , the brunette fell to knees, holding her head while she screamed in utter pain, tears rolling down her cheeks while her eyes were shut, trying to somehow make the pain bereable. All background noise was blocked, overpowered by a female voice inside her mind. ’ You have always clenched your fists and withdrawn for the fight, doing little to nothing. Finally, you have grown tired; let us form a pact, shall we? ’.     The voice was right, Lynn had enough. Taking blow after blow, being ridiculized, embarrassed and tossed aside — being the stepping stone others needed to feel superior while she put on a show, the happy pierrot that everyone relied onto but whom never spoke a single struggle. It was time for her to realize her own worth and speak her mind, yell to the four winds her heart’s desires; to defend and attack instead of being a mere broken shield.   ’ I am thou, thou art I we cannot tear out a single page of our life, but we can throw the whole book in the fire! They can bind our body and tie our hands but nothing can be done nor can shatter our will! ’, the hands that once had been holding her head were now on the floor underneath her, helping her to push herself up slowly — green hues had turned yellow and filled with such aggresive determination that she had never felt before. Straightening her back, her right hand placed itself before the mask that had manifested to existence, gripping it hard, she pulled away at once — blood running down her eyes.   “ We shall show them what we are made of, come to me Amantine! ”

Eldarya verse TAG. 「Eldarya ／ Lynn 」

College student, 23 years old. Absynthe Garde / Alchemist.  As a descendant of a human, her father Philip, and a fairy, her mother Lucia, Lynn is a faerie. However, she was never told about the truth and because of her clueless nature, she never suspected anything weird  ( not even when her aunt would show up in particular clothes which she lied that it was part of her job as a dentist not to scare children, including wings on her back as part of the costume ).  Which is precisely how she stepped in the thin line of human world and magic world, the blindfold had been finally removed. Currently stuck in Eldarya and unable to return nor communicate with her parents, Lynn spends her days working to win the meal of the day alongside an elf named Ezarel as an assistant for the potions he needs to create, but mostly errand girl: running here and there to provide everything on time.

Mystic Messenger. / MC1. TAG. 「MysMe ／ Lynn 」

College student, 23 years old.   Actually, Lynn isn’t sure how she found herself in Korea. Mostly, trying to be a good friend for Hyun and be his emotional support friend when he needed one given his grandfather had gotten terribly ill and chances were… No, no. She shouldn’t focus there. In fact, she should focus on finding the place her friend had indicated that both were staying at — yet, things rarely go as planned. Sometimes, the female felt that she was a magnet to problems. A message, an adress and a distressed person were the formula to lure her towards an unknown appartment in which she ended up locked. Stuck in a position of party hoster of sorts, Lynn Darcy chose not to fight her fate and assume her role. Kim Yoosung, Kang Jaehee, Hyun Ryu, Han Jumin and Choi Luciel needed her, after all. And God knows how big her heart is to leave without providing the needed help.

Shall we date? Destiny Ninja 2 + TAG. 「Destiny Ninja 2 +／ Lynn 」

Living in the Spring Village has been a wonderful experience since she can recall, to wake up everyday and see how flowers would blossom — new ones that would arrive because of the ocasional windy days and carry along new seeds for the view to change, take different shape and colors. Yet that lovely experience started to come to an end when the Yamato Island began to get corrupted. Was the story they told her as kids to make her fear true? All Lynn can do is pray and keep up with her training; she might not be an expert, but basic defense moves could safe her. Besides, her father had always taught her how to use a gun since possessing a sword was more of an honor, a lifestyle.

Shall we date? Blood in roses + TAG. 「Blood in roses ／ Lynn 」

It was a poor idea for a human to wander into a castle, but after having lost her family, the brunette found no better choice than try to find a temporal refugee. Much to her horror, it turned out to be the rumored Hotel Libra Sincera — unable to return nor escape because she had nowhere to go, she decided to step inside that place.   Truthfully, Lynn never thought she would use a Humphrey’s bottle of False Mist that her mother had bought to her at age nine in case something bad would happen to them. It was easy to forget about it but Lucia has insisted for Lynn to carry it at all times; and now, she could finally use it.

Wizardess heart + TAG. 「Wizardess heart + ／ Lynn 」

Student &&. buddyless, 17 years old, spellsinger. TBA.

Ephemeral: Residents in the dark. TAG. 「Ephemeral ／ 010」

Student, 120 years old, half-breed.   A lovechild from a vampire and a human, a horrible sin for all creatures that should have been killed hasn’t been that she was born with the strongest gen as expected, which is the single reason she had managed to survive thus far in the world were ranks meant everything.   However, her mother had been murdered by other humans as soon as it was discovered that there were vampires within their world — Philippe had returned with shame and head hung low back to his family. Forced into a marriage with another woman, a mermaid that grew to terribly hate Lynn going as far as to dig her nails into Lynn’s wrists due being young and beautiful.   To say Lynn was grateful to being accepted into that prestigious institution wasn’t enough, she decided to stay and live there. Refusing to return to a place where her stepmother wanted her head in a spike — yet, her secret keeps her awake at night, what would happen if she was discovered?

ANIMAL.

Main verse.

TAG. 

23 years old. WIP. 

Aggrestuko verse./ Publishing department. TAG. 

Office lady, 24 years old. Lynn Darcy had studied art history, however, she did not find many jobs suitable for that and ended up undergoing trainment to become a ‘desk person'—work in an office and fall into a comfortable routine for another year and a half.

TAGS.

「 Lynn Darcy   ／   𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓭𝔂 ┊ swcctlcve 」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ INQUIRY」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ MUSINGS 」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ VISAGE 」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ MANNERISMS 」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ INTROSPECTION」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ ROMANCE 」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ CRACK 」

RELATIONSHIPS.

DISCLAIMER.  I will not ship with the same character more than once unless my partner tells me they will no longer write said character and, therefore, the ship spot is free again. Please, do not force the issue.   001. Will you have exclusives?   If my partner and I discuss it before hand, then yes.   002. Will you have mains?   This will be more popular but yes, I will have limit of three mains.

KENTIN BRONSWORTH. ROMANTIC TAG.  ✘ · Kentin Bronsworth ♡（ ᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗˢ ᵇᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵃᵗ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁻ ⁱ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ） FRIENDSHIP TAG.  kcntin ; ʜᴏᴘᴇ（ φιλíα ） ABOUT.

RAVEN KENDALL. ROMANTIC TAG.  ✘ · Raven Kendall ♡「 ᴵᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᵐⁱˡˡⁱᵒⁿ ʷ���ʳˡᵈˢ ᵃᵖᵃʳᵗ」 FRIENDSHIP TAG. ABOUT.

HAIDA HYENA. ROMANTIC TAG.  ✘ · Haida Hyena ♡「 ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ʸᵒᵘ ／ starryburglar 」 FRIENDSHIP TAG. ABOUT.

✘ ·   ♡（ ）

✘ ·  ♡（  ）

[holy-mountaineering]

This spread is for @draugadottir

Thanks for the donation, as always!

Tonight you’re getting the full Qabalistic Tree of Life Spread that I do and here you are. What I’m going to do is go through and briefly explain each card, its position on the Tree, and then I’ll give you a summary/synopsis of the spread as a whole.

Think of this spread as a sort of quantum map, or even the land of a regular map, everything is happening at once, in each place. It’s important to think of yourself as moving “through” the map but you are also simultaneously everywhere at once. For the sake of this specific experiment, think of this as a map.

Where we’re starting the journey from is Kether, the monad, the first sign of creation. We’ll call this your hometown, since it is where you’re from originally. Here we have the Ace of Disks, the root power of Earth or the material.

This is the foundation which all your solid structures are and will be built on. This is the very root of your real world/material life situation.

While this doesn’t mean you must tear everything down or that there is nothing in your material world that you've built, it does mean you must look at the source from which you've built your material and everyday world. If you have no foundation you can have no structure. If you have a shoddy foundation, you'll have a shoddy structure. Look to what things were like where you are before you began building. Is there sand beneath you? Are you in a swamp, building castles of stone that will bind to the mud and be pulled down much sooner than later? Did you account for the raise in elevation when you laid your foundation? Look down to the base of what you've made and what you've made it upon.

This is an engineering job, you’ll need tools to measure and level everything out. The occult might not be the best place to find these tools and it is possible that you have issue much more base than you're willing to cop to. There are many tools you can use to look at your foundation provided in psychology and meditation from other sources. The Universe throws us extreme situations and more often than not, this is the only way people see their basest of instincts and behaviors really act out. If you can, take a look at what connects you and what you’re building to the Earth before an earthquake, tornado, volcano, or other act of G-D forces you to pray everything was fine. Check the strength of your foundations before the strength of your foundations are checked.

Get down to the base fundamentals of what is going on in your material (things, money, living situation, literal stuff) and build from the ground up if you must.

In Chokmah, which is like your freeway getting you out onto the road out of your hometown is Prince of Swords, the airy part of Air.

This is pure mind, “reason run amok.” The entire card is made up of strange and fragmenting geometric shapes like the prince’s world is coming apart at the seams. The humanoid creatures pulling his chariot have no fucking idea what they’re doing and the prince himself is in an awkward pose.

Don’t think yourself into discord. Sometimes when you look too deep at unnecessary or mundane details you’ll fucking lose your shit. Furtherly, focus on doing one thing, stay with that single thing until it is done. I suggest breath work and controlling breathing specifically.

In Binah, which is ruled by Saturn and for the sake of this reading we will call the first stop on your roadtrip. You haven’t really arrived anywhere but you’re stopping and getting a chance to repack your car in a more efficient way. Sitting in Binah is the 3 of Swords, Sorrow.

This is the first shape the suit of Air takes in 2 dimensions and it can be a bit disappointing. Your structure and order (Saturn) needs balancing (Libra) to be blunt. You must let go of your ideas of how things were going to be because now they are the way they are. Just because what you have isn’t what you thought you wanted doesn’t mean it’s not good.

Try to get your mind around what you’ve learned and and how to form it into a useful basis to move on from. Do not continue to focus on how you thought it “should be”, nothing is ever as pure or awesome as we idealize it. Sorting out your mind means actualizing some of the things you’ve been thinking about instead of not doing it because it isn’t perfect in the way we thought it would be.

In Chesed which is ruled by Jupiter and again for the sake of this experiment we’ll say involves your influence and benevolence in your current trip is your center! XIX The Sun, Resh, Sol.

The Sun is The Lord of Light and Life, the center of our little Solar System. Everything in the fairly large gravitational pull of the Sun is affected by it which pulls everything to it. If it weren’t for The Sun, nothing in our Solar System (named after Sol, The Sun Himself) would be where it is or nearly as well lit or full of life.

This more or less self sufficient little nuclear reactor in space gives life and light but also pulls small things which cannot maintain an orbit around it in for the final burn. bright and full of life and light but deal not with bullshit trifles.

Center yourself but be aware of what you effect and how. Keep pumping out the power but make sure it’s that good good renewable energy.

Across the Tree in Geburah, which is Mars Town, where you find your drive and what you’re trying to accomplish/conquer is the Prince of Disks, the airy part of Earth or thinking about what’s going on in the material/normal-ass world.

This prince is a map maker, an amateur cartologist. Holding his globe, he is pulled along by the sturdy bull of Taurus who is familiar with the terrain so the prince can gaze down and take note of where he is, where he’s been, and where he might be going. In other words this is learning about how to navigate life.

Pay attention to where you are and what you’ve been doing. Take notes. Have you been here before? Do you know where this leads? If not, mark it out in your globe so you know if you ever get there again.

In Tiphareth, the Sun and center of gravity holding all this in place, the heart pumping the blood through this, your heart is the Queen of Disks, the watery part of Earth or how you feel about what is going on in your material world of normal life stuff.

This Queen is above the landscape observing the river create life in the desert. The Queen of Disks is meditative and calm. She sees creation and is a part of it without getting her hands dirty.

This card shows what you feel about what is happening in your everyday “real world” life. The ideal here is to get out of the messy bullshit of “normal” stuff, get higher beyond mundanity, and look back down with new and more complete perspective.

Get above your situation so you can see more of the landscape, you don’t have to be intimately involved in everything going on for things to happen.

In Netzach, Venus town, where you have the realization about how this is going to change you as a person with a personality is 8 of Swords, Interference.

Ideally, this is using both sides of your brain to keep down negative (mathematical negative which takes away) thoughts in order to maintain balance. Is something weighing on your mind that is useful or is it just detracting from what you’re trying to do? In this card we astrologically see the expansive quality of Jupiter here expanding equally each way in the twins Gemini.

Unfortunately, this can also be using the concept of “order” or duality to thwart creative thinking and hold back mental progress.

Use your mind to filter out shitty thoughts and negative ways of thinking but don’t block out creativity. Use reason and feeling to practically analyze your thoughts.

In Mercury Town Hod-ville, where all the Universities are and everyone has real intellectual shit going on is the Princess of Wands, the earthy part of Fire.

This is the material substance that comes from fuels action. Think of this: you have to make a fire because it is cold. You have a set amount of wood. You can make a big ass, bright ass fire that will leave you cold later that night when you’re out of wood, but jazzed while it’s happening. Or you can make a smaller, less exciting fire that will keep you warm all night.

There is also a message about the last step in any action is really to become the actions and to let them become you. When your very Earthly substance is in it, you are no longer doing you just are.

Don’t burn yourself out and exhaust your resources on what you’re tackling in life right now. Do this and you shall live to dance and party another night.

On the Moon in Yesod, the receptive and reflective place that is alot about the feelings that you’re picking up from all this is the Ace of Cups, the root powers of water which is emotion, connectedness to living things, and intuition.

This is the geyser of the aspects of water exploding into existence. The Ace of Cups can be like the yearly floods on the Nile was to ancient Egyptian/Kemetic people that once a year had their fields simultaneously wiped out and fertilized. There is great danger in unbound Love, it tends to get consuming and people fear being consumed. There is a secret meaning to the joining of two to make none, but this isn’t really the place for that.

The uncontrolled waterfall of feeling, it can flow and be a clearing force or flood. If you’re not prepared for such water, you might get washed away, if you are it might wash away the cobwebs and your stagnancy.

Down here in Malkuth-istan, the everyday life mundane, waking up pooping, and going to work world is III The Empress, Daleth, Venus.

Daleth is the open door, like you’d leave your bedroom door unlocked if your lover were coming over, you want them inside (pun sort of intended). This is not passivity but waiting for the spring (or Aries her partner IV The Emperor) to energize what you have. Like the symbolic Pelican (phoenix also) spitting its breast open to feed its young, or like a pregnant person, the brunt of the responsibility for your future growth lies in you.

Be ready and prepared for new growth like springtime, but remember, this all hinges on you and your openness to growth.

So, you gotta get back to the basics of you and who you are and what you have, stop fucking getting lost in your head and all the (bad) possibilities of what could happen and make the thing happen however the thing can happen. It might not be awesomely pretty but it will work if you just fucking DO ET.

You can make things happen, YOU. And if you don’t know what the hell you’re doing, ask, and take notes because you’re gunna be learning this shit as you’re going through it, but your best bet on not getting caught in the proverbial quicksand is to not get yourself wrapped up in every aspect of everything. Back off, delegate tasks and let that stuff play itself out and don’t think of every bad thing that popped into your head as “totally going to happen” just because you thought of it.

If you wanna grow, again, allow shitty thoughts to rise to the surface and then destroy them utterly. You don’t need to spend half your day thinking about shit that could kill or ruin you when that will take away energy from what it is you’re really supposed to be doing. Bring in that which shines in and through you and washes away your worries. You’re in a place where a good tsunami might do ya well.

And this is all going down whether you like it or not. You can prepare yourself for this energizing change or you can be one of those folks in Florida that doesn’t leave during a hurricane evacuation. It depends on how you approach it.

Ta Da!

You know the deal, holler with any questions, qamments, qabalistic queries, or anything else!

[lifeofbouyd]

I Regret

Dear Bouyd,

Life ain’t always what it seems and I learnt that the hard way.

I left college in 2008 and headed straight into hotel industry with intentions of making something of life. I started out as bar manager and that’s where I made my name. In less than 2 tears I became the operations manager; overseeing the entire hotel and it’s associated properties close by. My life was looking fruitful and my bank account was on steady green. I was living the life I had always dreamt about; only issue was I still didn’t have me a Tom Cruise for a boyfriend. I had only had sex 3 times in my life and that was with 1 man. So I for a 26 year old I was still brand new. Throughout high school I didn’t see the need a boyfriend so I didn’t lose my virginity until my third year in college. A painful but memorable encounter. I started dating a Canadian guy who was a guest for a week at the resort. He was different in every way from your day to day guy. He dressed nicely, he smelled amazing and his voice had a melting tone. He operated his own business back in Canada and owned several properties. He was quite the business man. He was back within 3 months as we couldn’t wait to get under each other’s skin; we fucked in the moment he landed. His dick game was on point; deep strokes, sucking on my nipples, squeezing my ass and making me cum. We were like animals. It was the longest three days of my life. I wish he didn’t have to go back.for days I could feel him inside me; it felt as if he left a number on me.

I fell deep in love with this man and felt like I should spend the rest of my life with him. I wanted to be his last. I tried everything to make it work and eventually he saw my efforts. He invited me to come work and live with him which would result in us spending more time together. I thought about it hard and deep. This meant leaving my job, my family and my friends. I really loved my Job but I loved him even more so it was an easy decision for me to make. I booked my ticket and quit my job; heading into a new world for a new life. I spent my first 2 weeks in a hotel, he wanted me to experience luxurious Canadian lifestyle at its best. It made the r sorts back home look like villas. I applied for a job during my stay and started working a few days after my stay ended. I got along so well with everyone that within just 3 months I landed an acting site manager position.

Boss: Racquel, we’re gonna have a celebration dinner this weekend, bring someone.

It was the most well decorated event I’d ever been to. I could hardly speak when they called me up to congratulate me on my promotion. It all happened so fast I couldn’t find the words to express myself. Thinking that night couldn’t get any better, the music stopped. I saw him with the mike in his hand.

Joe: Racquel, I’ve got something to tell you.

I was shocked as I thought this was gonna turn out bad. A slow song started to play while he walked towards me. The lights were now focused on me as everyone turned to see what was going on. You make me happy, the happiest man there is and I want to wake up to that every morning. (Heart pounding) I wanna be everything that you need and I promise if you give me the chance I’ll prove that to you everyday. He went on his knees 🤭 Will you marry me?

For a second or two I was lost. I didn’t know how to answer. I’ve dreamt of saying yes so many times and so many ways but he caught me off guard. My proposal and my promotion in the same week. That’s like lightening striking the same place twice.

Joe: Racquel, will you marry me.

Me: Yes 😍 I’ll marry you, Again and again.

By the time he could slip the ring in my finger I had already jumped on him. Sucking on his lips as if I hadn’t seen him in years. Happy and horny we rushed home to fuck like animals. I was soaking wet long before I got out the car as I stroked his dick all the way home. As soon as I closed the door he grabbed me from behind, braced me against the wall and drilled my life out. Life was good. I was living the life of my dreams with the perfect man. We decided we’d get married within 5 months so I made preparations for my sister and my mom to come see me off. They landed 2 weeks before the wedding which gave us more than enough time to find the perfect dress. It was the first time in a few years we were so close and to be honest I really missed that.

I remember arriving at my wedding an hour late due to changing my makeup several times. I wanted it to be perfect, like a doll. I walked in to a thousand eyes staring at me and the man of my dreams on the alter crying like a baby. That’s the first time I saw him all dressed up. Gucci suite and red rolie was his motto. He looked like those millionaires on Forbes Magazine; young, rich and handsome. He looked me deep in the eyes and said his vows as if he wanted to touch my soul with his words. He promised he’d never cheat on me and he’d always treat me like a queen. He said we’d have the perfect life. An iced out 24k ring and a brand new car is what he gave me for my wedding present. I couldn’t stop looking at the ring, it reflected a rainbow across the alter when the sunlight hit the diamonds on top. The perfect wedding is what my mom called it. Even today it seems just like yesterday. I thought after a wedding like that my life would be perfect, I thought I’d have it all, I thought this was as good as life gets but I guess it was too good to be true. After a year of marriage I realized he started hiding stuff, he wasn’t the husband he used to be. I knew for a fact I wasn’t doing anything wrong because I fucked him twice before bed each night and before work in the morning. I asked him several times if everything was ok and he said he was so I figured he was going through a phase.

I had my sister come stay with me to go to college which turned out to be a big fucking mistake. I wanted to help her to get an education so she could get a better life but she had a different prize in mind. A friend told me she and my husband were going out but I didn’t believe. I trusted my sister and my heartbeat of a husband. I noticed some nights I’d wake up and he wouldn’t be in bed; but knowing him I thought he was in his office doing some work as always. One night I got curious and felt exotic. I wanted to go ride his dick in his office chair and have him water my baby’s head as u was 3 months pregnant. I stripped naked and walked slowly to the office but he wasn’t there. I checked the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom and 2 other rooms but he was no where to be found. I thought I’d go ask my sis if she saw him but what I saw I wish I had stay in bed and fingered myself ti sleep. I pushed my sister’s door open to see her sitting into my husband’s face while she sucks his dick. Wow 😮. I was beyond shock; my body was numb, my voice was gone. I shouted so many times but the words never came out. I stood there frozen watching him drink her dry. He had never sucked my pussy!!! Hey What the fuck is he doing, how can my sister do this to me, what did I ever do wrong? Tears flowed down my cheeks while anger ran through my veins. I wanted to kill them both but I couldn’t move. I had gotten a stroke. I watched them fuck like we used to until I blocked out.

I woke up 2 days later on a hospital bed to a doctor looking at me as if I had just risen from the dead.

Doctor: Welcome back to us. No sudden movements, you suffered a stroke and you are lucky to be alive. I’ll call your family to let them know you’re awake.

I fell asleep again shortly after. When I woke up I saw my husband sitting on a chair across from me, he had fallen asleep. I laid there looking at him and thought of all the ways I’d kill him but I could hardly move. He acted like nothing happened and when my sister got there she did the same. They acted as if they were strangers to each other. It made me question if I really saw them or if I was imagining things. I couldn’t stop thinking of them fucking each night while I was in the hospital. I had then on repeat and there was no stop button. To think I was sucking my sister’s pussy out my husband’s mouth got me so fucking angry I prayed they would die. He’s never given me heads, neither had I given him. I was a basic girl living a basic life in a new world. I had only seen oral sex in movies or on the net, there was no fine print on my marriage license that said oral sex was a must do. If he had asked I would have tried 🤦‍♂️. I couldn’t wait to get out that retched hospital and go home to my comfy bed. My friend came and got me the day I got released, I didn’t want either of them at home to come get me because I hated their guts. I came home to an empty house that afternoon as he didn’t leave work until 6 in the evenings and she’d normally have classes until 8. I made me a sandwich and decided to get some sleep until they get home. The noise in the house is what woke me up. They were in the living room playing like children. They had nothing on but their underwear; he was chasing her across the living room saying “I’m gonna punish you when I hold you”. Right then I realized my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. My husband and my sister were having an affair. She finally stopped running and he held her in the couch and slipped her pantries off. She pulled his head like a gear stick all the way to her crotch. He caressed her pussy with his mouth like he was eating ice cream. And to think he was a decent guy 🤦‍♂️. My heart melted in my chest like butter in a hot frying pan. I shot them both dead and left them bleeding out on the floor. I caught the house and the vehicles on fire and watched it burned to the ground. At least that’s what I wanted to do but I just stood there watching them. By the time they realized I was watching I had already seen all I wanted to see or all that I didn’t want to see.

Joe: Honey I can explain, it’s not what it looks like.

Me: So you were not fucking my duster just now?

Joe: Actually she was riding me.

Me: 😳 wtf. I now think I married a fool because you think that makes it any different.

My sister sat on the sofa crying as if she expected me to feel sorry for her fucking my husband. They talked and talked but all I heard was rubbish. I didn’t even cry that day, I was too hurt to connect to my emotions. I slept in the beach house for about 2 months before moving out for good. I got myself an apartment in Ontario and left them both behind. I hadn’t seen or spoken to him until the baby was born. He came to sign his name on the baby’s papers. He kept crying and asking me to come home but I had outgrown my love him. I had and still have nothing but hate for him. I wanted to cut his dick off and feed it to him. I wanted to kill my sister for betraying me. I had achieved the life I had always wanted and she just came in and took it away. She reaped the seed that I had sewn and for that I’ll never forgive her. I’ve recently moved back to Jamaica for good and since I’ve been here I became a full fledge lesbian. I’ll never give another man a chance to hurt me the way he did. I’ve created a better life for me and my son here, my own businesses, a nice house and a few cars. I won’t say sometimes I don’t miss him because I really do but fuck him and fuck her too.

This is a lesson learnt. As they always say, “sorry fi maga dog him tun round bite yuh”. I learnt that the hard way and since then I don’t even trust my shadow anymore. My advise to everyone reading this is; be careful of the people you try to give a helping hand in life, it might just come to haunt you later. And the people closest to you are normally the ones to fuck you over fastest. I’ve always heard people say that but now I can really attest to it. But I’ll also say; love is rare and if you think you’ve found it don’t ever give up on it. Not every marriage will end up like mine. There are good people out there.

Yours Truly ,

Racquel

[daydreaminghaven]

I needed a rant

I'm just going to write this down because I don't know how else to deal with this at the moment. My roommate is an asshole, it's gotten to bad that at this point I'm literally on the verge of tears. She is inconsiderate and rude and I don't know what to do. Sometimes my gut just tells me to go fucking punch the shit out of her but I wont because I'm better than that. I know for a fact that she could never beat my ass and it's not like I'm scared of her it's just that I'm scared of losing this home. I don't want to move anymore and if I do result to violence I'll be out and who knows where I'll be next? The last thing I want or need is too be in another fucking group home which will be right where I'm headed if I lose this place. '

And what could make me come to all of this? When I first met my roommate I knew we were not going to become close friends it was like I could see the future. You know when you meet someone and you just feel their negative energy? Well it was like that with her. Nevertheless, being that I just came out of a hellish rehabilitation program it was a miracle that I somehow was given a foster home. Foster homes are very, very rare for someone my age- especially coming from someone who was currently in a rehab. All anyone wants are little kids, and as a matter of fact my foster parent even admits she wasn't going to take me because she herself only wanted young kids. The only reason she took me is because I have an interest in church, quote me.

If I had to go to a group home then so be it, but now that I'm here I don't want to lose what I have. The problem with group homes is that they occupy too many people. Just imagine what its like to be living with 5-9 teenage girls mixed in with 3 or 4 tired, angry under-payed, overworked staff members (that switch out 3 times a day) all under the same roof. It's not pretty. There's ALWAYS fights, there's ALWAYS drama, ALWAYS something weather it be someone running away, two or more girls not getting along or a staff member not doing their job, or overstepping boundaries; there is constant stress. All. The. Time.

For someone who likes solitude, quietness, this kind of environment is- it's just horrible. It's already bad enough but then mix in someone who can't handle that kind of lifestyle and it can worsen their mental health, it can lead to self harm, suicidal ideations or worse. 

Once upon a time I used to be able to handle group homes, I just moved along when the drama happened, it was frustrating definitely (not just for me but for everyone), but it wasn't unbearable. But then I moved... And I moved again. And again. Then I started getting more fed up with it, then I started breaking down more easily, and self harmed, attempted suicide. I started to runaway, and use drugs... And every time I moved the staffs/therapists/supervisors seemed to care less and less and it was so frustrating. There were so many rules but so much unacceptable behavior slipping right under the rug!

And there was pretty much nothing you could do about it.

Then I got put in that rehabilitation and residential program which was some of the worst times in my life. It was like a bad group home to the max. You thought 9 teenage girls was bad? try 18-29. Together, all fucking day. No phones or internet, you had to be cut off- you couldn't even have a diary or pass notes without it needing to be checked everyday. You can bet there was fights and drama all the time, you couldn't leave the campus at all until months after you arrived. Not even mentioning that there was a strict schedule when to, sleep eat, shower, have mandatory groups that everyone hated. The staff in these places was even worse, virtually EVERYONE hated their job, and the staff in programs are allowed to put there hands on you if deemed necessary, and oh-fucking-boy did they. That power was abused way to fucking often but you want to try to run away? Straight to jail for 90 days just to get sent back and have to start all of your progress over from scratch... or possibly get sent to an even longer program.

These programs are technically 6 months but most people end up there for 8 to 9 months. You are given a set of 5 'levels' or 'phases' that you have to complete in order to get discharged from the program. Some kids are lucky and their insurance runs out and their parents can't pay to keep them there. I wasn't that lucky considering my parent is the state of fucking Florida. I'm grateful to be able to have good insurance and all but fucking hell that place was bad. Due to having to move to a switch different program 5 months after I was sent to my first program (over something that wasn't my fault, it had to due with medication issues which is a whole other story), I had to start all of my progress over and start the levels off from scratch. I spent 8 months in my second program making 13 months completely cut off from society (did I mention you weren't even allowed to watch the news?). That’s where I spent Christmas, Halloween, Mothers and Fathers day, even my birthday. I was discharged just two fucking days after my birthday. Just two. Anyways, the point is, I worked really, really hard to prove that I was responsible enough to get a foster home and I did. Even though my roommate is a fucking asswipe dealing with one girl is better than 9. At least I can kind of ignore her. But It's just so hard to act like it's not that bad she’s always

-touching and stealing my belongings -throwing actual garbage with bloody tampons in it over my ART SUPPLIES -always calling me disgusting and dirty when this bitches side of the closet -smells like fish -talking dirty to boys late at night (I don't want to hear about how you want to eat his ass. Stop it. Get some help.) -using my towel that I bathe with to clean the floor with BLEACH FUCKING BLEACH -USING MY LOAFERS AND WASH RAGS -plays loud angry rap music, or movies at full volume all night, usually until 2am, -or really early in the morning to wake me up WHEN SHE OWNS FUCKING HEADPHONES -Talks shit about me to everyone that comes through the door of this house (and loudly)

and I’m over here basically kissing her ass because anything is better than those fucking group homes. And I've tried to ask her to stop, or turn down her music, I've tried confronting her- and peacefully and respectfully but she either ignores me or gets violent. I've tried tried telling the foster parent, my therapist and no one is doing anything. I'm backed up into a corner. Like I said before, I'm not scared for my life, this bitch is like 5'3 (no offense to short people) but like I could kick her punk ass any day- and I would if I number 1.) wasn't trying to better myself and number 2.) cared about this home so fucking much. I just don't know what to do except pray and try to focus on other things. I wish I could just sleep in the living room. I keep breaking my headphones because I have to sleep with rain noises or something to drown out whatever she decides to play. Can you believe she has the audacity to wake me up just tell me to turn down my headphones when she tries to sleep? Like they aren’t even big headphones they are 6 dollar earbuds how loud can they be?! I do every single time though because I'm trying to 'stay blameless in Gods eyes' because I believe in karma and also if I didn't she would probably do something really petty like purposefully play loud music to wake me up even earlier or play it all night so I can't sleep. 

It really sucks. I have to live with this person for 110 more days (and, yes, I have it marked on my calendar) but one day she'll be gone and I wont have to deal (or smell) this person again. So hopefully I'll have some more learned patience by then. 

The whole reason for me even righting this is because yesterday she asked me to turn the light off in our room when I'm not using it (which is understandable, except you're never home anyways nor do you pay the bills) and of course when she came home the next day I made sure the light was off (did I mention the reason I'm not in the room when she comes home is because I avoid being in there when she is? My foster parent apparently thought that was important enough to report to my therapist like I have problems-But when I tell you whats actually going on you don't do anything about it so like...). Then today when came home I asked her to close the door when she goes in the room, while she was going to the room (because I can still hear whatever she plays from the living room). Guess what? She looked right at me, then walked to the room which is right across the living room and left the door wide open ON PURPOSE. Later on she said that basically it's not her job and that if I want it closed then I need to walk over and close it every time she leaves it open. It pissed me off so much that I just needed to write my feelings out because there isn't anything else I can do about it. Maybe when I'm older I'll look back on this and think 'wow look how strong you are now' and hopefully by then I'll be in a position where if someone is being an outright dick I can punch the shit out of them on the spot- I mean deal with them professionally.

just 110 more days Jasmine, you can do it. Do it for yourself girl do it for your boo thang

[gabzep]

Mail Order (3)

I want everyone to know I don’t speak Portuguese.  But I didn’t feel right not trying, especially since some of the story will be taking place in Brazil.  I used travel books, Google Translate, a Portuguese iphone app. Still I would like to apologize in advice if I butchered the language. Good news it’s not a lot because the characters are bilingual. Hope you like it!  Un-beta’d

Part 1    Part 2

The door slams and it makes her jump. Her sister stomps into the room. That’s great, nothing like a pissed off teen to complete her day.  Ever since they moved in with Flora and Haymitch, Prim had become moody.  It’s only when Flora goes for long visits with her family that Katniss sees a glimpse of the happy Prim she remembers.

“Oi patinha” Prim rolls her eyes at the use of her nickname. “Voce esta bem?”

“No, I’m not fine!” she yells as she hands Katniss a sandwich and takes a bite of hers. Talking with her mouth full she said “Flora with her stupid comments while I was making these.”  She waves her sandwich around “Comendo toda sua comida. Like we really eat up all her food and going on about how she’s not getting enough money to put up with us.”

“Eu sinto muito” Katniss tells her. Flora is relentlessly on their case about everything, food, laundry, chores and most of all money, they do their best but it’s never enough for her.  She treats them like unwanted guests.  Prim getting the worst of it while Katniss and Haymitch are at work.

“You don’t need to be sorry” her anger deflating at the look of concern on Katniss face.  Prim sits next to her on the bed “it’s not your fault she’s a bitter puta.”

“Language” she reprimands, though she can’t help but laugh.

Prim’s eye widen as she takes in the image on the screen. “Uau, is that him? My god Katniss he’s hot” Katniss hurries to change the picture, embarrassed as if she was caught looking at porn.  She hands Prim her tablet and lets her go through his profile and shows her the information that Mr. Boggs sent.  She doesn’t hide anything from Prim.  They are in this together and at 14, Prim is old enough to know what’s going on.

“Doesn’t seem like he has much luck with women” Prim says “Maybe that’ll change with you?” she nudges Katniss on the shoulder with a knowing smirk.

“We’ll see when we meet him” she reply’s. “Although more than likely he’s going to meet up with other potential brides.  Remember Maura picked 3 guys for the meet and senhor Boggs was here to see her and another girl.”  She could feel a tightness in her chest at the thought of Mr. Mellark not picking her and she hasn’t even met him yet.

“Are you sure about this, Katniss? I can drop out of school; find work, so we can get a place of our own.” This is not the first time Prim has offered this.

“Our parents wouldn’t want that and neither do I.  The savings they left us is running out, Prim.  The money I make waitressing at Sae’s is barely covering Flora’s room and board”

“They wouldn’t want this either” Prim pointed at the screen “and what about uncle Haymitch?” her lower lip beginning to tremble “Will we ever see him again?” Prim sees him like a second father and she hates the idea of leaving him behind.

“I’m sure we will and you can call him everyday.” she reminds her.

“To bad we can’t take him with us. You should have put him down as part of your condition” she chuckles “He’ll finally be able to divorce that cow and I’m sure he’ll come looking for us” she can hear the hope in her sisters voice.

“He’ll be knocking at our door before you know it.” She tells Prim “We’ll make is work. Ok”

“Esta bem” Prim goes back to the tablet and scrolls to the picture Katniss was gawking at earlier. “This picture though Katniss, Wow!”  Heat rushes to her cheeks. “Oh my god you’re actually blushing” Prim squeals and just like that Prim is back to an annoying teen gushing over a guy.  Rolling your eyes she grabs the tablet and logs out of the Cupid website.

“Come on do your school work and then get ready for bed, before Flora start complaining about the electricity” she huffs.   On seeing Prim’s mischievous expression she know she’ll be teasing her until its time to go to bed. 

-----------------------------------

She was dozing off when the phone smacks her on the face.  Merda she startles.  Like a true stalker she had been googling him to see what else she could find, which wasn’t much.  She also saved an occasional picture here and there.  Well, he was fucking fine.

She climbs out of bed trying not to bump into Prim.  She can’t seem to turn her mind off.  She’ll be dragging her little sister from their home to another country, their mother’s country.  Is she doing the right thing?  The only place she can afford is in the ‘favelas’ and she will have to find a second job.  She needs to do what she can to keep Prim out of the slums.

She heads down to the kitchen for a cup of water, checking on her email. She sees one from Mail Order Cupid reminding her of the dates and times for the meet.  She spots her uncle Haymitch sleeping on the table.  Flora had demanded he send them to an orphanage as soon as they moved in, he refused, so now all they do is fight.  It’s been taking a toll on all of them.  Flora wasn’t always like this but her jealousy has turned her into a crazy bitch. She sees the bottle of white liquor and rolls her eyes.  Haymitch’s drinking isn’t helping either.

“Haymitch, acorde” I shake him to wake up.

“O que se passa, sweetheart?”

“Nothing is going on; you need to go to bed” Haymitch Abernathy just like her father, was born to a Brazilian mother and American father.

“Sofa” he slurs, getting up and heads towards the couch, white liquor in hand.

She follows behind him and drops next to him.

“Jimena from family court called, the papers are ready” Haymitch said.  He received sole custody of them when her parents died but the day she turned 18 they went to court and added Katniss as joint guardian of Prim.  She can’t get sole custody because of her income. So when she gets married Haymitch will have to write a letter approving for Prim to move out of the country with Katniss.

“I’ll pick them up tomorrow after I drop Prim off at school and swing by the bank to put them in the safe deposit box”  One day she caught Flora going through their room looking for any paperwork that proves they had received money from their parents death.  

“When’s he coming?” he asks “What’s his name?”

“The meet up is at the end of the week. His name’s Peeta Mellark”

“Why couldn’t you just wait until I get a divorced?”

“Maybe you can save your marriage once we’re gone” he shakes his head

“Not going to happen, sweetheart”

“Besides she’ll use us against you in court.”  Every time the word divorce comes up during their fights Flora threatens him. “She’ll make false accusations and we’ll loss custody of Prim at least while they do an investigation.  I can’t risk that.”

“I want to meet him” Haymitch said “Before the family meeting.”  If the groom and bride decide they are a good match, the last part of the meet up will be with family.  Maura didn’t have any family so she invited them to meet with Mr. Boggs.  Haymitch, really liked him.

“I don’t think so; I need to make a good impression.  I want him to pick me and not another girl.” There’s that tug on her chest again.  Her hand goes to the spot and she rubs it as if it’s something she can soothe away.  “Your sour face will scare him off” He glares at her and she snorts pointing at his face. “Yup that’s the one.”

“I won’t sign anything until I meet with him, Katniss” she nods because she knows.  Prim and Haymitch are her only family and she wants their approval.

“You have a picture?” he asks. She unlocks her phone goes to her picture folder and is careful not to pull up the half naked one.  Picking instead one where he’s wearing a pale blue polo shirt that makes his cerulean blue eyes stand out.  He grabs her phone and texts the picture to himself.  

“Hey! What are you doing?” she snaps at him as she takes her phone back before he starts scrolling through her pictures. He shrugs his shoulders.

“What about Prim?”

“She’ll meet him with me because she’s part of my condition.  I want to make sure they get along”

“I hope you know what you’re getting into, sweetheart” yeah so does she. She gets up to go back to her room.

“Boa noite, Haymitch”

“Night, sweetheart” 

---------------------------------

She’s in the kitchen preparing Prim’s school lunch.  She’ll stop by the padaria for some sweet bread and hot chocolate for their breakfast. She’s hoping they can get going before Flora wakes up.  Then she hears the bedroom door opening. Just great, she takes a deep breath, preparing herself for the argument and Flora never disappoints.  Coming into the kitchen she starts on her right away.

“Voce precisa me dar mais dinheiro.” Flora says.  Always asking for more money, Flora’s bleeding her dry.

“Bom dia para voce tambem e nao, eu te dou bastante” she said, No reason to be rude with a good morning to you too and no I give you plenty as a responses. 

“Se nao me de o dinherio estou chutando ambos para fora” Katniss has her back to her so she rolls her eyes, right like Haymitch will let her kick us out if she doesn’t give her more money. Most likely he’ll be pissed if he knew that she gave Flora most of her pay.

Prim bounces into the kitchen before it escalates any further. “Ready to go” Katniss asks.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, Tchau Flora” Prim calls grabbing her lunch and rushing out the door.

“Esta conversa nao terminou” Flora tells her, of course this conversation isn’t over it’s the same shit every fucking time they see each other.

“Tchau” she says.  Two more days she tells herself, two more until the meet and hopefully she’ll be able to get them away from here.  She prays it’s not into a worst situation. 

_______________________

All the errands she needed to do this morning have caused her to be late for work, again.  Not that Sae will ever fire her she’s the only one that speaks fluent English and she needs her during the tourist seasons.  Its winter in Brazil right now so they should be slow.

Her phone rings and she looks at the screen and it’s a call from the Cupid agency, she groans what now.  Last time Effie called she wanted to give her a makeover complaining the pictures she uploaded where to plain if not downright ugly.

“Ola” she answers.

“Hello dear, it’s Effie Trinket from Mail Order Cupid” she said with a flourish.

“Hello Effie” she met Effie at the agency when she went to sign up.

“The reason for my call is that you closed out your availability for selection yesterday and my dear we have had several calls asking for you.  Your age and virginity status has made you a hot commodity” Effie chirped.

“You got to be kidding me, right? Like my virginity is a prize to be won.” she spat feeling disgusted. “That’s kind of disturbing.  Don’t you think?” She only put it down because Effie insisted upon it but she could care less.  She would have slept with her ex-boyfriend Julian just to loss it.  They had been heading that way anyways but then her parents died and she had to move so they broke up.  With the way things have been going for her this year dating and sex have been the last thing on her mind, until now that is.

“Yes dear but even so” Effie said as if she was talking to a dimwit “You have only made one selection and there’s no guarantee he will pick you.” Her hand absentmindedly rubs at her chest.

“I’ll take my chances Effie” she snaps.

“Well just think about it darling and if during our romance tour meet up you happen to change your mind you let me know” she trills and hangs up.  God now she’s really late, she rushes into Sae’s.

“Desculpa Sae” she calls out an apology as she heads towards the back to change for her shift. 

---------------------------------------

He looks at the sign above the agency door.  It has Mail Order Cupid in bright pink letters.  He hates that Katniss feels she has to do this but she’s right.  Flora will refuse to give him a quick and easy divorce.  Accuse him of abusing the girls and Prim will be taken away.  He’s see it happen before so he knows she’s not lying.  Blinded by her hatred she will sacrifice everything and everyone in order to get her way.  He has been married to her for 5 years and the minute she asked him to send the girls to the orphanage he was done.

He feels he’s letting his best friend James down by not being able to take care of his girls.  The least he can do is check up on this Peeta Mellark. Katniss doesn’t know but he was been in contact with Boggs and once the girls make it to the states, Boggs will be keeping tabs on them and report back to him.  For now it’s up to him.

Going in, he’s greeted by the bright pink interior.  He rolls his eye and wonders what idiot thought that neon pink was a good idea.

He walks up to the receptionist. “Eu preciso falar com seu gerente” he said asking to speak to the manager.

“Voce tem um compromisso?” the receptionist asked if he had an appointment.

“Nao, sweetheart” her eyebrows shoot up.

“You speak English?” she asks.

“Yes, now may I speak your manager” he asks again.  She gives him her best fake smile that’s more of a grimace.  She rings up Effie and puts her on speaker. 

“Venia I’m kinda busy here. Can’t believe Sabino call in, now I’m short a driver and we are going to have a busy weekend” he hears her complain. Thank you, Sabino he thinks. 

“This is your lucky day, sweetheart, I’m a driver” he said loud enough for her to hear him over her whining.  

“Oh my and you speak English too! Fantastic, send him in Venia” she warbles.

[kaileynel4-blog]

You are all lucky SOB’s!!!

Alrighty, let’s dive right into the issue of my blog....my title is incorrect!!! Yes, this whole time I have had a title I did not mean to have. I mean, it doesn’t really make sense?!? Happiness is contagious, just like a sneeze??? So remember when I wrote my first blog post? The one where I deleted my entry 3 times?!?! So I think that is where my problem all started! I was so frustrated with the fact that I stupidly deleted my blog, that I stupidly wrote the wrong title!? I am not sure where the sneeze part came into play but I meant to say YAWN!! Yawns are contagious, not SNEEZES! Sweet jesus I’m an oblivious idiot sometimes. I think I am just gonna drop the sneeze part and just go with Happiness is Contagious. Sorry for all the confusion and head scratches along the way...I will say one thing though, it sure would have been nice if one of you told me!!! Just said “hey kailey, your title doesn’t make sense...sneezes aren’t contagious...” I blame 20% of this title mistake on you guys!

Anyways, the past few weeks have been a bit more challenging for me and continually learning the ups and downs of living abroad. I have been in Thailand for 5 months now and can’t believe it! Some days it feels like I’ve been gone forever and others like I just left last week. The amount of thinking through my emotions and listening to that little voice in my head, is much more than I anticipated. I am not much of an emotional person...I am not saying that I am heartless person or that I dont have emotions, I just don’t outwardly express them as much as others. So having to deal with these random thoughts and emotions is not my favorite thing to do. There are many ways to cope with your mental state of craziness. Currently, mine is exercise and coffee. Yes, coffee. I try to do some sort of physical activity everyday. It helps with all my anxiousness that I tend to have...sometimes I swear my attention span is like a 5 year olds. The “squirrel” situation happens to me more often than it should :) Coffee...oh the sweet sweet smell of good coffee. Drinking an iced cappuccino helps calm me and has become a comfort thing for me. It is a reminder of home but also brings back all the wonderful times I have had drinking coffee with my favorite people! I feel a sense of normalcy is brought to my not so normal life. I love the adventure that I am on but realized that it’s okay to want a bit of normalcy and miss some comforts of back home. In the beginning, I wouldn’t let myself think about all the things I missed cause I thought it would be harder but then I realized that I am lucky to miss people from home. I am one lucky lady to be living in a place that not many others have experienced. I am lucky to be surrounded by constant support and love. And I am lucky to have dogs all around me and help improve the lives of elephants in SE Asia! Now this is the part where you get to reflect...what makes you feel lucky?? What are the moments in your life where you have just thought “damn, I am one lucky bastard!” How do you cope with your crazy thoughts and emotions? One thing that i am learning along this journey, is to reflect and be grateful everyday that I am alive. If you are still reading my blogs (thank you Mom) I hope the one thing that you have taken away from them is to be grateful. The crappy situation you may think you are in could always be worse and sometimes you just need to remind yourself how fuckin lucky you are to be alive! Here is a photo of me loving life with two of coworkers, Fang and Roger! We were with the volunteers as they walked the elephants to the river!

This past week I had mixed emotions about life...I was feeling homesick and i think in large part due to the fact that my sister and Jacque were visiting and had just left. Words cant begin to describe how amazing it was to have my sister and Jacque come visit me. It is a pretty special thing to be able to share my Thailand home with the one person that I have always looked up to and admired. Being able to show my sister the loving community i live in, the efforts that Bamboo is doing to improve the lives of the elephants and show her why I love working here. I hope that she now has a better sense of what i am doing and understands a bit more as to why I moved here! After my sister and Jacque left, I had a bit of an emotional rollercoaster for a couple days. I was questioning why the fuck I am here, what do i want to get out of working in Thailand and really how much i missed home. As i worked through these emotions, i realized that I chose to do this. this decision was all me. I reached out to Bamboo to see if they had a job opening, I applied and I got the job. I didn’t care what people thought about me moving aboard cause I knew that I wanted to do it and that was all that mattered. I hope that from here on out I will be bold with my decisions, chase after my dreams, continue to spread happiness (even if its not contagious like a sneeze haha) remember how amazing life is when you are living it up, and always encourage those around you to be the best version of themselves.

The level of shits given lately is 0 for me. I am used to the weird Thailand things and know that i just need to accept it and move on. For example, there is a gecko that lives in my room. He poops in the same spot in my room and I cant seem to get him out! Normally, people would freak out about this and maybe even call a terminator. I dont think there is a such thing in Thailand so I just pray every night that I dont wake up with him on my face. In the village, the water goes out during the middle of the day. I have also had to accept this and just do a bucket shower or remain extremely smelly for a few more hours. I realized when my sister was visiting that my level of actual cleanliness is suffering a bit. I just dont really care that i brush my teeth from water that has been sitting in a bucket for who knows how long, or that the dishes we use to eat with everyday sit outside to dry with all the bugs and critters that could potentially crawl on them, or that i swim in a elephant poo infested river twice a week cause i am not gonna pass up swimming with them. I used to refuse to sleep on floors and never really liked camping in tents unless i had a pad. I have slept on the floor with a small thai pad for 5 months now. Some days i would love to have a tempurpedic mattress but for the most part I have done pretty good considering how high maintenance i was about sleeping on the floor. I have survived brushing my teeth in questionable water for 5 months and as long as I brush them i am pretty pleased with myself. There are just some things in life that aren’t worth the energy of worrying about. Accepting this is the hardest part but something I am learning. Thailand so far has taught me to be tougher and a little smellier. We live a pretty cushy and priviladge life in America and it is good to strip yourself of these privileges every once in awhile to really see what your boundaries are. When Jacque and my sister were here, the one thing that Jacque said she realized almost immediately was that she will never complain about water her beautiful plants again. We saw a woman carrying two big buckets of water on the end of a stick and was going to water her crops. We dont have to worry about watering our plants cause all we have to do is turn the hose on and stand there. We also have house plants for our pure enjoyment and dont rely on them to make a living. Appreciation is a huge thing for me and i appreciate every delicious cup of coffee i get, i appreciate all the meals that are cooked for me, I appreciate when my thai coworkers pick me up so i dont have to walk, I appreciate the dark chocolate that my mom sent me, I appreciate the smell of clean laundry and i appreciate most of all the people in my life. So the next time you complain about having to water your plants, drive your nice car to the grocery store, having to take your dog for a walk, or complain about your bed being too small, remember just how fucking lucky we are to have these things in our lives. Some people wont ever have the luxury of having these things so please just be grateful and appreciative of all that you have!

Here is a photo of our staff/family dinners in the village! I LOVE SPICY THAI FOOD!!!!

Here is one last thing before i go...I have fallen in love.......with a dog at the village. Her name is Kao (pronounced like cow) and she is the sweetest dog. I have talked about her before. She is the dog that had 4 litters of puppies and I paid for her to get spayed so she doesn’t have to have any more puppies! Anyways, I want to adopt kao and bring her back home to America to live a spoiled and privileged puppy life. The problem i have run into is that I dont know exactly when I will be coming home for good and need someone to help foster/adopt her. If you are interested in helping me get her to america please let me know! I am looking for someone to temporarily take care of her until i come home. Now i must warn you, if you want to foster her, please dont fall in love with her. She is my dog and I will want her back! It is going to be hard for you cause she is an amazing pup but we can work out a situation where you can still see her. Maybe even puppy sit! Okay, I’m getting off topic here....If anyone would like to help me out with this amazing and sweet dog please let me know! It is a long process to adopt a dog from Thailand so it would take a little while but i would love to get it started. Here are a couple photos of her to make you feel a little guilty and possible persuade you to help out ;) also, if you cant adopt but want to help out financially let me know!

As always i am sending lots of hugs and kisses to those back home. I am grateful everyday that I am alive and happy and I hope that you are too!

Cheers to summer livin and see you all in a month!! If anyone wants to have a slumber party and drink wine when i am home, i am most definitely down for that!

Love you all :)

[laketaj24]

Game on Part 5

Ivar/Hvitserk paired with Y/N (WOC)

Warning: None really light Smut in preparation for next part lol

You didn’t answer any of Ivar’s calls. Your self control was out the window when it came to him. You had not yet packed because it didn’t seem real. Plus your mom was more than emotional about it and your dad highly disapproved.

Hvitserk was to be home in one week and everything concerning the two weighed heavy on you. Hvitserk was this kind, overwhelming dedicated boyfriend that cared for you deeply. But Ivar, though a smart ass had blue eyes that melted you and he was venomous. He wasn’t safe or convenient. He was everything but those things and it seemed to be what drew you in.

“Everything is beautiful here. I’ve touched an actual elephant.” Hvitserk says overly excited. “Babe, our fucking elephants throughout the entire apartment.” He gives you a smile and you try to hide your awkwardness in the camera.

“We can debate on that.”

“Nothing to debate, out elephants everywhere.”

You laugh and listen to his exploits as your phone continues to vibrate with texts. “Who is that?”

Ivar. “My mom and dad telling me about their trip.”

“Ahhh, house to yourself. Are you streaking?”

“Nope, bundles up with coffee now.”

“Hvit! Come on we have a meeting.” Bjorn yelled.

“Go babe, I’ll call you back.”

Ivar texted you every morning and afternoon. Some messages were kind and others not so much.

You couldn’t sleep lately and you couldn’t decide if it was from excitement or guilt. The two shouldn’t conflict but every time you closed your eyes one of your Lothbrok brothers haunted you. The music filled the entire top floor and your parents being out of town made life easier. Perhaps moving out would be the best, independence was something you’d never experienced. The loud knock to the door surprised you at one in the morning. The clanging of something echoes through out the whole house and you grab the pocket knife and jog down the steps.

“Who is it!”

“Y/F/N Y/L/N!!!!” He roared with a lisp you weren’t used to hearing. “Open the door.” He banged.

Ivar. You open the door checking for neighbors forgetting it’s only then across the street. “You’re drunk.”

“Y/N, you’re alive after all.” He pushes pass you stumbling into the wall, gripping his tequila bottle. “I’ve texted you one hundr-.” He paused. “Is this a cross?” He spat.

You turn to the X shaped bookshelf in the corner of the foyer and nod your head. “It’s s bookshelf Ivar. It’s an X.” You close the door and walk over to him. “Can I help you to the couch?”

“You can’t.” He snatches his arm for you and walks clumsily to the couch almost wasting the tequila. “Do you think I’m crazy YN?”

You try not to laugh as you sit beside him but his slur and evil hints at you omg amuse you further. “Why are you here?”

“Because I haven’t talked you.”

“You can’t come over at one in the morning because we haven’t talked, Ivar I didn’t want to see you or talk to you. What we had is over, done.”

“But we never discussed it.”

“What was there to discuss?”

He groans in frustration pulling his fair into his face. “We fucked YN.”

“And, like you haven’t slept with a girl with intentions to leave afterwards.” You try not to sound as angry as you are, “I have Hvitserk.”

“I have Hvitserk.” He mocks your voice. He rolls his eyes. “I don’t just want you to fuck you.”

“What do you want?”

“Everything, I want you. Leave him.”

“Ivar, you want me? Why? Why now?”

“What do you mean why now? I’ve been in a prison for four years?” He laughed. “I’ve always wanted you. You chose him and you want even give me a fucking chance.”

“I think your drunk.”

Ivar waves his bottle at her. “You think?”

“Sleep here.” You make your way from the couch and toss a blanket on him.

“Stay with me.” He begged.

“No.”

“Go home then Ivar. I can’t do this anymore. Hvitserk is such a good man. He’s caring.”

“I’m caring. I care for you.”

“Good night.”

“Lay with me,” He whispered. “I know you want him. Okay…” His voice trails. “I don’t want to be alone. I’m always alone. Just give me tonight?”

His broken voice sends small wave over you. And you go back to the couch. “Why do you do this to me?”

“What?” He nestled into you pulling the cover over you two.

“Make it hard to tell you no.”

His hands trail your hips and then your stomach. “Then don’t.”

“This is-“ Ivar’s fingers dip into your underwear and whatever you were about to say shifts from your memory. He pushes your legs apart and dips his finger into you. “Ivar,” you moan.

“What…”

“Get your hand out of my pants.”

“Y/N.” He says pulling his hand from you. “You’re no fun.”

“I know.” You climb up from the couch and recover him with the blanket. “As I said before Good night.”

The night passes by with a lock door and no rest. Just a constant loop of Ed Sheeran songs and random episodes of reality TV shows. You creep down the steps trying not to wake him because he’s facedown in the couch clutching the tequila bottle like a long lost friend and quite frankly it’s adorable. It does no good as you move pass the couch for he springs up, “if you would have played A-Team one more time I would have drug my ass up those steps to kill you.”

“I was in a mood.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Ivar sits up and his bare chest is a site you’re good with seeing again. “Thanks for your couch.”

“You’re welcome.”

You sit next to him hesitantly. “You like to drunk walk huh?”

“Don’t tease me, I cane over here to bare my heart to you.”

His eyes are locked on the floor, as if he’s waiting on you. You give in after a moment of silence. “You have one minute Ivar Lothrbok, and then get out.”

“I have loved you for a long time.” You huff and he raises his eyebrow to you. “Do you not believe me? I beat up those kids who were picking on you. I read your journal long before they gave it to me and I remained silent so you wouldn’t be embarrassed. I prayed everyday to Freya that you would tell me when I got out. And now I come home and you’re with Hvitserk.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is that you chose him over me, when I’m who you want.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t give you that sugar coated mush.”

“Don’t.”

“Yes, I’m being honest. That’s not me, I’m not sweet but you don’t want sweet. And you look foolish… running around with him. Huh?” He reaches for your leg but you move quickly.

“And your minute is up.”

“If I leave, I can’t say I will play fairly anymore Y/N.”

“You haven’t been fair all along Ivar. And the game is over. I’m done giving into you. Get out.”

“Do not forget I warned you, and when you break his heart, which you will, I won’t feel sorry for you or him.”

“Go.” You cross your arms and pout, upset about the smug smile that was on his face. “Hurry up, get out.”

Tag list: @sparklingbluepebbles @titty-teetee @kimistry27 @byzantiumglytch @whenimaunicorn @imgoldielikehawn @sparklemichele @fuckyeahalexhoghandersen @readsalot73 @oddsnendsfanfics @kawennote09 @vaisabu @vbiggs03 @genxmama @tinymoonshine @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @kenzieam @forbidddden-snowflake @sincerelysinister @suz-123 @sunnyfortomorrow @2loveeverything2 @wilddrabble @clumsywonderland @roromunroe @letsshamelessqueen-m @kc-7 @alyse45 @romanchronicles

A/N: Thanks so much for your feedback you guys are awesome. I know this is a bunch of dialogue lol but it’s needed for story progression! Let me know what you think and HAPPY NEW YEARS! If you want to be added/removed from the taglist please let me know!