#it’s a shitty fucking cycle and i don’t know how to break away from it.

[dagasinfilo]

considering just starting to take double my current dose with what i have left and see where that takes me since three weeks in i have no fucking clue if im gonna even get my meds before my next appointment

[ariel26c]

Some Tough Love

(Long rant ahead with lots of cussing)

If you feel like giving up on your desires it’s because you still aren’t grasping the fact that you have it right now. It doesn’t fucking matter what the 3D shows you. Who is the God of your reality?? You or the 3D??? You duh. 🙄

Some of you need to discipline yourself. It’s not about motivation because motivation is temporary and you’re only going to continue to search for posts to motivate you. It’s a repetitive cycle.

Know what you want and tell yourself you have it. Stick to that shit. Be stubborn. You’re fucking God / The Creator of your reality. Get that shit through your head. Decide it’s yours right now. What are you so worried about?? That you’re never gonna get it??? But why not??? What’s so fucking wrong with you that you feel like it can work for others but not you???

If you can manifest all the bullshit of bad luck, shitty relationships, debt and all the bad why can’t you manifest the good??? Think of all the negative things you’ve experienced. You manifested that. You thought of the bad and manifested the bad. (Except for traumatic experiences, it’s not your fault).

Your SP is in love with someone else??? No they fucking aren’t. They love you.

You have one dollar in your bank account??? No you don’t, you’re literally a millionaire.

To change what’s happening on the outside you need to change within. You need to change your way of thinking. That’s it.

Understand that whatever you assume to be true is true. You are only making it more difficult for yourself by asking questions like “Is iT WoRKinG?” Or saying “It’S NOt WoRKiNg.”

If you’re checking constantly. I hate to break it to you but… you’re not living in the end. If you have it you wouldn’t be checking. If you have it you wouldn’t be thinking of giving up. If you have it you wouldn’t be searching how to manifest (blank) videos.

I regret giving up on my desires because I literally just wasted all of that potential. I could’ve had my desires by now if I didn’t give up and simply allowed myself to have it. Trust me you’ll regret it if you give up.

Law of Assumption is fucking LAW meaning it will never fail you. Failure is not an option. If you don’t get your desires it’s simply because you didn’t persist. You gave your power away to things that don’t matter like your doubts and negative emotions. You assumed it wasn’t working. You assumed you’d fail and that’s what happened. This just proves how real the Law of Assumption is.

It’s not a scam. It’s not fake or bullshit but again if that’s what you assume it is then that’s what it will be to you.

I get it. We weren’t born knowing about Loa but if we did trust me that the world would be much different. Tell yourself you’re that fucking bitch because you know what 99% of the world doesn’t. If you know about Loa it’s a fucking sign that you’re meant to have all of your desires. It’s not a coincidence.

Stop whining, bitching and complaining. 😤

From now on I want you to stop searching for videos and posts if you’re not applying what you learned. I want you to focus on being the version of you that already has it. Wake up every single day knowing how fucking powerful you are.

(Hope this wasn’t too mean lol but reread this post until you understand that you are God / The Creator)

[infictionalwonderland]

PERIODS — harry lewis

pairing: harry lewis x fem!reader

warnings: periods… NOT REALLY A WARNING BUT YKKK, swearing, suggestive-ness, medication

Whoever said people your age couldn’t have sleepovers, could go and do one—because you absolutely fucking could, you and Talia proving said notion right now; your boys were off again, somewhere abroad for a sidemen shoot and leaving you and your best friend alone. Instead of getting all weepy and mopey (over a boy, never you) you and her decided to make the most out of the lack of testosterone—after you’d dropped your boyfriend off at the airport, all innocent smiles and pretty fluttering lashes, you’d zoomed off (probably breaking several speed limits) to get to your best friends new home.

When you got there, she’d opened the door with an excited screech despite expecting you and you returned it despite knowing she’d been the one to open the door. After of long embrace where she didn’t wanna let you go, you finally convinced her with the promised of pizza and brownies. Hauling your overnight bag in, you’d began your girly night—music booming, comfy clothes on, gossip upon gossip and so many laughs your whole body was in tatters as you made pizzas and brownies (admittedly, hers were better but she was literally Mario’s second cousin, it’s to be expected)

Food in hands and smiles never leaving your faces, you’d taken off into a race into a race for the living room (you won, obviously) and began your evening of movie watching—from 10 things i hate about you to It, then legally blonde and Tangled, and many more, . . .you had quite the night. However both of your highlights was when you discovered you both started your cycles on that particular day—before your boyfriends had left and around basically the same times: it had you both in tear inducing laughter for two minutes. You’d ended up taking a Polaroid of you both grinning while holding up Flow (the period tracker app) and showing you both having the exact same cycles.

Twins.

That was yesterday—now you were both lying in a miserable heap of pain and exhaustion in Talia’s king size bed, hot water bottles on your abdomens and remaining snacks being shovelled into your mouths as you both snuggled and occupied yourselves on your phones.

You smiled slightly when your boyfriends name popped up over TikTok but grimaced afterwards as your stomach turned horribly.

harry🤍

gd mornin xx yu okay luv ?

me

you’re actually illiterate

harry🤍

and you can’t punctuate, we all have are own flaws. anyway i hope ur good, we’re landing at 3, want me to pick u up anything?

You grinned wider, deciding to piss about.

me

yeah actually can you get me some jumbo tampons!! thank youuu x

harry🤍

what. they do JUMBO? i mean thats, at least their being inclusive. good on em 👍 wait bloody hell love, you’re on again already? swear i don’t know how you still have blood in ya

me

yeah it happens to be a monthly thing, harry. 😄😄😄😄😄 also im with my gf so you might have to whisk me away before me elope xxxxx

harry🤍

she’d get you a shitty ring anyway i’ll get in simons lift home then and you can drop us off. … i love you, gotta go, see you soon gorgeous

me

love you too smelly 😜

You looked over at Talia at, miraculously, the same time she looked up at you and when she wordlessly showed you her phone, showcasing messages of her asking Simon for XXL pads, you gasped laughingly and showed her your messages to Harry. She made a shocked face before meeting your eye and you both burst out laughing, only to groan as you ached all fucking over.

“I hate being a women.”

It was now half two and while Talia was effectively making your day better—you both were still in immense pain. You’d migrated to every living room (you loved it so much, you could cry) and both had a sofa to yourself, Mushu (their adorable dog) was nipping at some toy from where he was sat by the telly. You both were on your phones for the most part, last nights episode of Love Island that you’d absently recorded now playing on the TV as you both munched away on the breakfast Talia got delivered—McDonald’s breakfast for you and she had a spiced cheesy omelette from this little breakfast place.

“When do you think Harrys gonna ask. .?” Talia looked at you from her place on the sofa, wiggling her ringed finger mischievously with a glittering smile, one hand still firmly against her stomach.

“Probably never.”

“Bullshit!” She shot back instantly, sitting up and pointing firmly in your direction as she ignored the pain she was in in favour of reassuring you. “Babe, you have not seen the way that man looks at you when he thinks no one is looking. Like, seriously, he has literal heart eyes for you and don’t even get me started on how he speaks about you. It’s like your the best thing in this entire world to him, really. Like you’re some kinda goddess or somethin’ he always looks so awestruck by you.”

“. .probably cause I cook him dinner.” You offered with a shrug, smiling lopsidedly, and Talia snorted with a head shake.

“Or you are his dinner.”

“I mean, he does—“

“Ah! WAIT, NO. Stop, no more, please.”

You grinned at her, sparing a wink before cooing at Mushu happily and urging him to jump up on you, which he did. Your entire demeanour seemed to soften as you wrapped your arms around the large grey ball of fluff.

“He’ll probably ask you soon.”

“Natalia.” You threw her a mock serious look and she put her hands up in a surrender motion, finding herself all too funny.

“What—have you seen you?” Talia retorted, faking a dreamy sigh as she readjusted herself on the plush material of her sofa. “I’d kiss you, marry you and fuck you. Repeatedly.”

“Miss Mar. . .” You jokingly trailed off.

“Have my babies?”

“I thought you’d never ask!”

“We should really do this more often.” Talia pouted at you, friendly love bright in her irises as she pulled her blanket more around her body. “I miss hanging with you, sexy bum.”

“Miss you more, baby cakes.” You winked at her dramatically, mouth falling open just like Fred Weasley and she giggled back at you, snapping a candid photo.

“Speaking of babies—“

“NATALIA HADDOCK.”

Approaching four o’clock was when your boyfriends finally rolled up—you and Talia didn’t actually notice at first, you were both laying down on the living room floor with Mushu next to you and a mediation video on the large screen, giggles slipping past your lips even as you attempted to be quiet. You would’ve sat up but considering your cramps. . .‘twas a no go.

“Keep your fake lips shut, Cruella.”

Talia squawked in offence at your comment but kept her eyes shut for the purpose of mediation, blindly lifting a manicured hand to swat at you.

In that moment, your boyfriends both walked through the door, trading odd looks at the silence in the home (if there was anything you and Talia were together, it was not silent). Simon lead Harry through the house, more confused than anything to where his fiancé was but when they heard whooshing sounds from the living room, they both stopped uncertainly.

Harry quickly picked up a random umbrella from where they were sat, just in case.

However, when you hesitantly stalked into the living room they didn’t expect to see both of their girlfriends laying sprawled across the floor in starfish position with a mediation video playing on the large TV. They both paused, trying to repress their amusement and Harry instantly got out his phone—zooming into you to take some photos.

“Feeling zen, yet?” Simon inquired.

“So zen.” You both confirmed, simultaneously.

There was silence for no more than a second before you and Talia both let out startled exclamations and sat up straight—immediately groaning out in pain after as your stomach cramped and ached (day 2 was your personal worst day for pain/cramps).

“Woah. Woah, woah.” Simon paused at the in sync groans of pain, “listen. . .I know you both have like, interlinked emotions but please don’t tell me you can feel what the other feels?!”

“Boy.” Talia gave him a deadpan stare.

“Help.” You urged your boyfriend, reaching out your hands expectantly and he rolled his eyes fondly as he walked over to you, large hands taking your smaller ones in his own and he tugged you up from the ground, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into him. “Hey stranger.”

“Hey.” Harry mumbled back, grinning widely as he pulled you flush against him, digging his head endearingly into the crook of your neck and leaving two swift kisses, your sweet aroma surrounding him and clouding his thoughts as you hummed, running your fingers through his short hair.

“No PDA in my house!” Simon exclaimed.

“Shush,” Talia tutted—unimpressed with her fiancé, “don’t listen to him. Harry, kiss my girl all you want just. . nothing more, preferably.”

“She’s not your girl.”

“Am I not?” You played clueless, faking a confused look at him before going to step over to your best friend, only for him to tug you back against him, large, muscled arms wrapping around your front to hold you back.

“Disgusting.” Simon blanched. “Do that in your own home, please.”

You and Talia both rolled your eyes in sync: you turned your head to smile up at your boyfriend, pressing a loving peck to his soft lips and then his bicep before gently tugging his arms off you, getting ready to say bye to your friends.

“Bye beautiful.” Talia grinned, her arms coming to wrap around you with a careful tightness. “I love you, let me know if you need anything—also, we should really really do this again soon. I love spending time with you.”

Feeling your heart warm, you smiled back at her genuinely. “I love spending time with you too, Lia. Next time we can make lasagna and cupcakes. . .the Tom and Jerry ones.”

Talia squealed slightly, pulling away from your hug to press kisses to both your cheeks and then your forehead.

“You’re the best. Miss ya’ already.”

“Missing you more.”

A few minutes later, you and Harry were finally out of the mini-mar household. Your boyfriend had finally resigned to carrying you when you had fully stopped walking and hunched over slightly in pain from your cramps—he’d sighed, like the tired boyfriend he was, then gently picked you up bridal style and ignored Talia’s obnoxious awes and how she took several pictures.

(She totally didn’t put them on her story)

“Spoiled princess, ‘s what you are.” Harry shook his head jokingly as he carefully put you down in the passenger side of your own car that he was driving cause you were in pain.

“Ain’t that the truth.”

He grinned at you, looking up through his lashes as he did your seatbelt for you, one of his large arms caging you in and the the other free arm reaching over your lower half to tug the seatbelt tighter. He looked similar to an angel in that moment—sun illuminating his features, those fucking blue eyes you were a sucker for and you felt a trail of sparks on the skin his hand purposefully brushed over.

“That tight enough?” Harry inquired, cheekily.

“So tight.” You responded with a snicker of your own and he rolled his eyes at you, tugging a strand of your hair briefly and you feigned a dramatic wince as he left you, shutting the door to your side and climbing in the drivers side.

You looked over, rolling down your window readily as you knew what was coming—when your car started to take off, Talia opened up the window closest to the driveway, popping out her head with a gorgeous gleaming smile.

“BYE BYE BEAUTIFUL, I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER SOON!”

“BYE GORGEOUS—SAME GOES FOR YOU, CALL ME!”

As you did the ‘call me’ symbol with your hand and gave her a dramatic wink, she giggled before ducking her head back indoors.

“Might as well date her.”

“Might just, y’know.” You smiled at him sweetly, turning on the radio for background noise like you always did, “Smells a lot than my current partner anyway?”

“He can’t be that bad!”

“No, really, he stinks of piss.”

“I beg you fu—“

He cut himself off, grin faltering as he heard you wince in pain, frowning softly as he looked over at you.

“Hanging in there alright?”

“Mhm.” You hummed, smiling tensely.

“I got you something.” Harry mentioned, peering over at you and when he saw you looking him with that adorably confused look, he nudged his head backwards and your eyes followed—landing on the Tesco bag in the backseat.

“My jumbo tampons?” You cackled to yourself.

“No—I did look though—“ Your laughter increased in volume, ignoring the aching pain overcoming you as best you could, “Oh—Oh. I see now, they aren’t a thing. You played me.”

“What? No, never.”

“I smell deceit.”

“I smell piss. Oh, wait, it’s just you.”

You giggled at yourself and while he tried to playfully glare at you, he couldn’t quite keep his smile at bay as he stared at you.

Curiously, you reach behind you and tug the Tesco bag from its space in the back, lugging it into your lap and opening it up—your mouth immediately pops open in an awww when you take in the two sets of cupcakes, your favourite chocolate bars, the sanitary products and some pain medication.

“Harry. .”

“Don’t mention it, I beg.” A sheepish crimson blush coats his pale cheeks at your tone and your evident heart eyes. Jesus Christ, were you pretty. He was so lucky to be able to call you his, that much he knew for sure.

“Thanks, handsome.”

“Yeah, yeah anytime man.”

You arch a brow.

“Anytime, love.” Harry corrects, flashing you an equal parts amused and sarcastic smile as you nod your approval to the changing pet name.

When you finally arrive back at your apartment complex—Harry’s already out of his side of the car as soon as it stops, and then he goes over to you, opening your door and looking down at you. He lets at a dramatic heaving sigh at your doe eyed look, scolding his skin for flushing and heart for picking up.

Effortlessly, he takes the bag off your hands with one hand and pulls you from the car with the other, once you’re out the car he lifts you up easily with one arm and you wrap your legs around his hips, arms around his neck.

“Hi.” You mumble, grinning mischievously as your acrylics scratch at his beard.

“My pretty troublemaker.” Harry huffs affectionately, squinting down at your bright smile fuelled by mischief. “Don’t you dare bring attention to us, this is embarrassing enough.” He nearly whines.

You merely smile, a kiss to his cheek to tide over his anxieties.

The walk was going pretty smoothly, but as soon as Harry stepped foot into the elevator, another set of footsteps followed and his eyes shut miserably, leaning down and sighing into your neck hopelessly.

“Hi Effie!” You immediately perk up at the sight of the older woman—Effie was this sweetheart fifty six year old who lived on the floor below you and Harry, a vast lover of plants and animals with a hatred for men (you loved her, Harry was scared of her).

Harry barely refrains for niping at the soft skin of your neck in reprimand. Of bloody course.

“Hello dearie.” The older woman, hair a dyed purple shade and silver septum hanging from her button nose, greets you with a calm smile. Effie was evidently unfazed by the scene in front of her—if anything, she was proud that you were putting your man to work. “How are you today?”

“Oh I’m grand, Ef.” You smiled so charmingly that as Harry stared down at you, he almost forgot he was even supposed to be annoyed. “How are you? How’s Tia, I miss her!”

“I’m well, thank you, dearie. Tia misses you too, I assure you. Perhaps you come down tonight, I can bake us some cookies just how you like them.”

Harry paused, bewildered. Did his girlfriend just get hit on by a grandma?!

“I—“

Before you could even get a word out, the elevator dinged open to your floor and Harry wasted now time practically sprinting out with his arms possessively entangled around your frame; you quickly exclaimed a startled ‘bye Effie’ over your boyfriends shoulder before the elevator doors shut.

You quickly distracted yourself with how you could feel your boyfriends muscular biceps as he held you up, your acrylics took to touching and tracing them as he bounced you up further on his hip. You closed your eyes, leaning further into him and humming at the delightful scent of his cologne, the soothing vibrations of his body as he quietly chatted away helping to dull the aches in your own body.

“You alright there, y/n?”

“Never been better.” You smiled up at him and he gives you an amused one back, kissing your forehead softly as he finally opens the door to your shared apartment—once inside, he readily manoeuvres the both of you to the sofa where he carefully places you down, handing you the bag of food and your favourite blanket he spots on the lone armchair. “Thank youuu.”

“Spoiled princess.” He names again, but the smile on his face is enough to melt you despite his words.

Harry then goes into the kitchen as you try and adjust on the sofa more comfortably, face screwing up as a particularly harsh pain washes through you—your abdomen clenching. To distract yourself, you search through the Tesco bag and smile to yourself as you take out the first batch of muffins.

You mindlessly click onto WhatsApp, taking a photo of the bag of goodies and sending it to the girls groupchat with a little ‘make your men do this for you, pretty ladies’ and instantly being met with gushing from them all.

“Showing off my expert shopping skills?”

You startle—gaze flickering to your boyfriend who smiles at you, that smile he saves just for you and it makes you feel so special and warm every time. Your eyes dart over him, noticing the hot water bottle he now clutches (you love that hot water bottle—it’s got this absolutely adorable cover of a lama).

Fucking hormones, you think, as you feel a wave of emotion hit you at how much he’s done for you.

“Hey,” Harry noticed the quivering frown you now adopted and internally panicked, did I do something? Hot water bottle in hand, he hurried towards you, kneeling down on the floor beside where you were laying and twirling a pierce of your hair around his finger. “Hey. What’s wrong, love, hm? You in pain?”

“Yeah.” You answer him shakily, that’s not why your suddenly upset. “I love you.”

If he’s confused—he doesn’t show it, he merely smiles at you comfortingly, leaning in to gently press a kiss to your lips.

“I love you more.”

You smile up at him and his face softens completely at you—he’s so fucking in love. And yes, these thoughts of his are incredibly soppy, but, he couldn’t help it. The girl of his dreams, the love of his life, the prettiest person in the world, was currently staring at him like he hung the moon and the stars. . . he’d never tire of your beautiful face, your radiant smile that flustered him every damn time.

When you move so he can slide in behind you, he eagerly takes the invitation. He slots in behind you on the sofa, pulling you atop him with your back against his chest; he takes the hot water bottle, your favourite one, and carefully moves up your shirt before pressing it against your lower stomach and keeping his hands there to hold it in place, pressing a thoughtless yet meaningful kiss to the side of your head and you snuggle back into him.

“Oi, give me a bite.”

“Fuck off, it’s my scran.”

“Yeah—and who’s card did it make a dent in?”

“Our card, handsome.”

“. . . Spoiled princess.”

And that’s how you spend most of the rest of your day—intertwined limbs, goofy grins, soft kisses and joking insults.

(He’s never been more in love)

[alluraaaa]

i am once again expanding on my ideas of how i’d write voltron but this time it’s thanks to @iveofficiallygonemad’s encouragement to hear about the galra generals

so first off, lotor + the generals should have been foils to the paladins, minus shiro cuz he’s missing when they’re introduced. the paladins being everyone in their OG lion + allura in black for reasons i’ve explored a buncha times already. the foils would be: lotor and allura, acxa and keith, narti and pidge, ezor and lance, and hunk and zethrid.

each one of these pairs has some surface level traits that are extremely similar if not identical, while having deeper traits that are completely opposite. allura and lotor are both royalty and their team’s leader, but with completely different moralities and approaches to ruling/leading. keith and acxa are both the right hands (and look so similar that ppl thought they were secret twins lmaooo) but where acxa is cold and calculating, keith is impulsive and hot-headed. both pidge and narti are very agile and keep secrets, but pidge hacks computers and narti hacks people’s minds. lance and ezor are both adaptable and outgoing, but ezor has a cruelty to her that lance doesn’t, instead being very kind. similar to them, hunk and zethrid are both powerhouses, but hunk knows to use his power responsibly while zethrid loves fighting for the sake of it. there could have been an excellent showcase here of how the team with more kindness and compassion are always beating the team that’s more cruel and uncaring.

now i don’t like the narti died, and i maintain that lotor should have been redeemed— not because i particularly like his character in canon, but because he could’ve had a much better one. he was clearly shown to have shitty parents, and it would’ve been so much more satisfying to see him rebel against them and break the cycle as it were. and with the blade of marmora being an organization of galra working against the empire, it’s clear where they could go.

i’m imagining a plotline of zarkon being resurrected or whatever happened in those seasons, and lotor being told him + his team now have no use, they were just a stand-in for zarkon while he was down and out. it’d be the final straw for him, and he’d storm off, his parents assuming his just throwing a tantrum. in reality, he’s convincing the generals— who are really the closest thing he has to friends— to just defect from the empire.

acxa has an undying loyalty to lotor, so she’s open to whatever he wants to do. ezor and zethrid are very chaotic neutral, down for whatever strikes their fancy in the moment and in this moment the idea sounds exhilarating and fun. they aren’t outright villains anymore but they’re still quite fucked up and tbh. good for them!

as for narti, she was killed in canon before she got any sort of personality, so i’m gonna hang onto the foil concept and base some personality and backstory on pidge’s. narti is very curious about life outside the empire, because the empire is all she’s known. she was a child soldier from day one. she also wants to get more knowledge about her powers and non-galran heritage, because it’s as much a mystery to her as it is to everyone else. she’s kind of always wanted to defect, but didn’t have the bravery to do so alone.

so they run away with no real plan of what to do. lotor wants a life outside of his father, but his father is ever expanding the empire, so he keeps losing places that are just his. that, plus his first hand witness of what the empire actually does, opens his eyes to the cruelty of his father’s colonization. that drives him to wanting to outright fight back against his father and the generals, who have been watching the same things, are right there with him.

acxa is watching the empire from an outsider’s position, and she’s seeing the real danger of being a mindless follower. she’s watching countless soldiers follow the orders of a handful of generals, and watching those generals not care when the soldiers get hurt or even die, because they’re just numbers and forces to the generals. she realizes that she should be making her own decisions and that even if she trusts lotor, he shouldn’t be the one in charge of her life.

narti is at first one track minded in finding her other parent’s home planet, but time and time again she watches a similar devastation happen on other planets. families get separated, important cultural artifacts are damaged, history documentation is destroyed. she learns she isn’t the only one dealing with this, and she doesn’t want any more people to suffer the same fate she has.

ezor and zethrid have been spending this time like a vacation from work, doing whatever seems most fun and rewarding. but they eventually start to see the empire repeatedly ruining their fun, and they don’t like it. they’d tell the others they don’t want zarkon interrupting them anymore and they don’t, but a large part of it is also seeing the hurt on their friends’ faces whenever they get caught in a firefight again. they love each other, and they love their friends, and they don’t want any of them getting hurt.

now obviously team voltron and their various allies wouldn’t trust lotor and co. but time and time again they’d see them helping voltron and hurting the empire how they can. eventually, there’s be tentative teamwork and down the line, they’d be invited to join the blade of marmora.

immediately all five of them would notice the familiarity between the blades and the empire. there’s basically no difference between their mottos; the blade is uncomfortably okay with letting soldiers die if it means getting the mission done.

the generals want to say something, but lotor doesn’t want to stir the pot too much. their position is very weak, there’s still very little trust in them. to come out the gate opposing how everything is done wouldn’t be good.

but the blade trusts voltron, doesn’t it? and one of the paladins is also a blade. so… they find keith and talk to him, telling him that while the blade has a good cause unlike the empire, both are a little too cool with letting people die, and it’s more than kind of upsetting.

keith, who is way too self sacrificial, doesn’t see a problem with this, but brings it up next time he’s with voltron. everyone is surprised by lotor + co’s behavior and ideals, and start to trust them more

i’m starting to lose steam here but um. lotor + co being good guys and the five of them co-leading the blade and making it better than the empire :-) they all get their own mini character arcs within this collective group arc and no one is killed for shock factor and no one is pushing the narrative of abused kids turning out just like their parents and continuing the cycle <3

[nailbatss]

Forever Will Be You and Me

This is another entry for @harringrovesummerbingo !! Name inspiration comes from Check Yes Juliet by We the Kings. I love this song and I think it fits Harringrove in any universe <3

Square & Prompt: B2 - Free Space

Rating: Angst to fluff, SFW

Word Count: 1.8k

Major Tags: Harringrove, fluff, getting together, genderbent!Harringrove, omegaverse, Alpha!Billie, Omega!Stevie, Stevie has bad parents, Billie has bad parents

Summary: Stevie was supposed to do everything by the book. She was supposed to marry another rich family and have strong pups to be her heir. Her parents don’t care about her. She’s determined to break that cycle and be truly happy. All she has to do is run.

“Stevie, I need you to get the hell out of your parents’ house.” Billie scoffed as they relaxed in her pool one afternoon. She was sitting on a flamingo shaped floatie, sunglasses slightly skewed down her nose to see her better, and her red hot bikini hugging her curvy frame. Stevie herself was wearing a yellow floral bikini and it hugged her curves just right. Her own sunglasses were sitting atop her head as she relaxed in the shallow end, sitting on the stairs leading into the pool. 

A frown made her face scrunch up. “That’s easier said than done, Billie.” She sighed and looked down at her nails.

“Why? I got away from my folks and got a place, why don’t you move in with me?” Billie asked like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Are you crazy? They already don’t like that I’m friends with an alpha and won’t tell them who. You know how old fashioned they are.”

“Right, because they believe in alpha/omega relationships and nothing else.” She frowned. “I mean, I am an alpha. Why won’t they let you be with me?”

“Though we’re opposite designations… they don’t like the thought of me being with another woman..” Stevie said softly.

“That’s such bullshit!” Billie snarled as her fangs dropped. “We could be perfect together!” She hissed.

Well that suddenly got Stevie’s attention.

“Billie? I- what?” Stevie squeaked.

“Fuck.” The blonde muttered and looked up at the sky, groaning. “Fucking cat’s out of the bag now.”

“Y-You like me?”

“Yes, princess. I don’t just hang around you for no reason. While I do like to be around you, I think you’re the most beautiful omega I’ve ever seen. This shitty town’s never done anything for me except giving me one thing. They gave me you.” Billie said. “Now I sound all sappy.” She pouted.

Stevie giggled as she swam over to her, grabbing onto the side of her floatie and looking up at her. “Billie?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re cute when you get all pouty.” She smiled and laughed again as Billie’s face turned as red as her bikini.

That didn’t stop her from leaning down and responding. “And you’re all cute when you’re flirty.” The blonde smiled and connected their lips, earning a mewl of pleasure from Stevie.

~*~

“What do you mean I have to marry him?” Stevie’s eyes widened.

“You were promised to the Hagan family long after you presented.” Her father growled. “If you presented as an omega, you’d marry their alpha son. If you presented as an alpha, you’d be promised to another family with an omega.” He crossed his arms. “Pack your things, they’ll be coming to collect you in the morning. Once married, you’re going to provide an heir that will take over the family business.”

“I don’t want to!” Stevie stomped her foot. “There’s no way you’re going to make me!”

“Oh, but you’re an omega. You’re viewed as property to anyone else, especially in our society.” Her father continued and growled. “As your father and your alpha, you will obey me.”

Stevie shot a look to her mother. “You seriously can’t agree to this.” She swallowed, horrified at the thought of having to leave everything behind, especially her chosen alpha. The two had been courting in secret for weeks now.

Her mother fell silent, as usual. “What your father says, goes.” She had been promised the same fate unfortunately all those years ago. She was sworn to marry Richard, obviously not happy about it either.

“Fuck you.” She spat in her father’s direction. 

“What the hell did you say to me, girl?!”

“Fuck. You.” Stevie said and turned on her heel, grabbing her bag and running up the stairs. She slammed her bedroom door behind her and sobbed. 

How was she supposed to tell Billie? 

She simply couldn’t. 

But she couldn’t just not live her own life. She had to do something and do it fast.

Grabbing the phone, she dialed the number she remembered by heart all those years ago. A tear slid down her cheek as she heard the ringing back in her ears.

“Hey princess, what’s going on?”

“Is that offer still on the table?” Stevie asked shakily.

She could practically hear her grin over the phone. “For you? Always.”

“I want to take you up on it.”

“I’m on my way, princess. Be there in 5.”

Hearing the dial tone, Stevie hung up the phone and wiped her eyes. No time for getting upset now. The brunette was packing her bags in a flurry and making sure she grabbed everything she needed. The young omega was not going to let her father ruin her life again. She was going to find her happiness somewhere that wasn’t there.

Even so, she knew she would be cut off from her family, which was fine. She had enough in her savings anyway. The minute she turned 18, she automatically removed her parents from her bank account. Whatever money she had was hers, and that was a safety net at best. 

Taking one more glance around, Stevie knew this would be the last time she’d be in this room. She picked up a stuffed bunny from her bed. Cinnamon, she had named it, was won by Billie at the state fair up in Indy. She had held onto it ever since and it smelled just like her. Though Billie’s scent had faded from the plush fur, Stevie held onto it as a memory. One of the seldom few she had where she was purely happy.

So into her bag she goes. 

Hearing the familiar roar of the engine, Stevie was out the door. She dropped her keys into the bowl of keys. Her car would surely be taken from her too, so it was better to leave that behind too. It was an ugly reminder of who her family is.

“Stephanie!” Turning her head, she realized her mother was watching her now.

“I’m sorry.” She said quietly.

“I understand, but please…” Her mother rushed over with an envelope and handed it to her. She sniffled. “I’m so sorry that your father is like this.. I never wanted this life for you. You don’t deserve this.” 

That was the last time she hugged her mother. 

Taking a deep breath, Stevie walked out the door and never looked back.

After all, her true alpha was here to protect her from them. She’d never look back again.

Climbing in the car, Stevie immediately felt overtaken with relief, warmth, and safety.

“Hi, princess.’

“Hi beautiful.”

Suddenly, Stevie was embraced in a loving hug. The warmth was familiar, encasing her with happiness and support, but most of all, love.

“Don’t ever look back. They’ll tear us apart if you give them the chance.” Billie told her soothingly and rubbed her back.

Suddenly, she gasped when feeling tears soaking through her shirt.

“Oh baby, don’t you worry. I got you now. Come on, let’s go get some ice cream at home, yeah?”

“Home?” Stevie echoed with a raspy tone.

“Home.” Billie smiled softly.

“Okay, yeah, I’d like to go home now, please.”

“Then home it is.”

~*~

Warm. Cozy. That’s what Stevie felt when she woke up. She trilled softly when feeling strong arms around her waist. Her nose immediately went to her neck, sighing quietly as she breathed in her scent. It was unlike any other alpha’s scent which was usually musky, heavy. Hers was coconut, lime, and all things beachy. Stevie’s herself was more floral, like jasmine, daffodil, and a little bit of peach. Their scents were perfect together and almost like a tropical getaway.

Heaven. That’s what this was.

Stevie was in heaven when she was with Billie, her alpha.

They had moved in together practically overnight and they were finally at peace. People would talk, surely. Stevie Harrington living it up with Billie Hargrove in the trailer? Scandalous.

She didn’t give a damn anymore.

All Stevie cared about was being happy. At the very least, Billie was her happiness and she was going to always protect her.

Yes, they were young at only the age of 18, but they were here together. They’d finish school together and they’d probably never hear from any of these people again. That would be paradise to them definitely.

“Do you ever think of moving away?” Billie asked curiously one morning.

“W-what?”

“Do you ever… want to get away from here?” Billie repeated this time.

“I mean, I’ve always thought about it.”

“Yeah? What of it?”

“I’d like to… but I don’t want to leave behind the pups.”

Stevie had grown quite attached to a few pups that she used to look after. Namely, Dustin Henderson. That was her first pup she was trusted with. Claudia had always offered her a place to stay if needed and a warm meal before she would return home. The other pups followed right after: Lucas, Mike, Will, and El were a few more to name. Of course, she couldn’t forget about the other sassy, yet sweet pup, Max. Though she was Billie’s sister, Stevie adored her all the more. 

“We could always come back to visit.” Billie offered.

“We could, yes, but I’m happy here with you.” Stevie smiled warmly over her cup of coffee. Her wavy hair was thrown up in a messy bun; it was never good for Billie’s heart to see that combination. “It wouldn’t be the same without them.. I’d miss them.”

Billie could understand that. She never thought of having pups of her own, let alone, knowing if she could sire them. It hit her just then. If you take an omega away from their pups, even ones that were adopted and made pack, then they could enter a drop. She didn’t want to risk doing that to her favorite person in the world.

“Fine, after the brats graduate, we’re going to leave then. Will that be okay?” Billie sighed.

Stevie giggled, “Don’t call them brats, I know you have a soft spot for them too.”

“Whatever.” Billie huffed again.

“Oh, my big, strong, alpha, scared to admit she’s soft.” Stevie cooed.

That made Billie growl playfully. “Shut up.”

“You like when I tease you~”

“That I do, princess. That I do. Now c’mere, I need my morning kisses.” Billie tugged her close by her waist, sealing their lips together.

Happiness had never tasted so sweet. All it took was her to run away from her horrible future and into the loving arms of her perfect mate.

Forever never looked so promising.

[saintshigaraki]

he’s made one for himself, one for me too (and one of these days he’ll make one for you)

pairing: dabi x gn!reader

words: 900ish 

excerpt: You’ve made a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake, and you know now, startlingly, that there’s no going back.

tags: angst, hurt no comfort

There’s no one like Dabi who makes you realize just how thin the line between love and hate can be. 

He draws the type of anger out of you that makes you nonsensical with rage. Every word out of your mouth is swallowed up by a fog of red. The type of rage that makes you near uncontrollable, like you don’t quite have the hold on yourself that you should. It’s the type of rage that makes you, for a split moment, understand what pushes people to murder. 

You two have been going in circles for so long now that you couldn’t even say what prompted this particular argument. 

“Jesus fuck,” he finally interrupts your seemingly endless tirade, breaking the cycle you’ve locked yourself into. “What crawled up your ass and died?” 

His words are crude, crass, and blunt, as always. You think if you had to describe him in three words, those would be the words you’d choose. Crude, crass, and blunt. 

(And lost. Sad, too. You think Dabi is mostly a supremely sad individual.)

It isn’t so much his astute comment on your behavior that has the next rage-induced words dying on your tongue as much as it is the look he’s giving you. He’s exasperated, of course, as are you, but there’s also a look of genuine confusion twisting up his face that has the last of the red veil of rage lifting from your eyes. 

What is wrong with you? Why are so, so very angry? 

You chance another look up at him across your tiny kitchen. Under the shitty, fluorescent lighting, he looks like he’s on death’s door. His scars spread farther and farther and farther; by the day, by the minute, it feels like. 

And you recognize the anger for what it really is now–dread. Heavy and terrible and swallowing up all your vital organs. Chewing you up like a shadowed, hulking, terrible beast. 

He’s dying. Dabi’s dying, and you’re watching it happen. You’re getting a front-row seat to it, actually. 

“I-” you start, but the rest of whatever you were going to choke out falls away to devastation. 

Tears, hot and acidic, distort the look of horror on Dabi’s face as you double over against the counter. You can’t breathe; you can’t breathe. There’s an iron-hot poker in your throat, and you can’t fucking breathe around it as you try desperately to calm yourself down.

Dabi’s presence is warm behind you, sweltering. His hand is on your shoulder, an insistent pressure forcing you to turn back to him. You grasp wildly at his wrist for support as you take great heaving breaths trying desperately to stifle your sobs, but stifling just makes it all so much worse. It’s water on a grease fire. 

Grief has cracked you open and left you nothing but a walking, talking wound. And it’s all your fault. It’s not like Dabi has ever gone out of his way to hide his end goal from you. He’s always been painfully honest with you. So, really, it’s all your fault. 

You rack your brain trying to understand what your past rationale was. What were you thinking, getting involved with him? What exactly did you think was going to happen? 

It was just supposed to be a fling, you suppose. That must’ve been it. That’s what it started as. He wasn’t supposed to be funny in that terribly sardonic, slightly cruel way that he is. He wasn’t supposed to be sweet, in a way you can only describe as particularly Dabi-like, with his thumb brushing your shoulder tenderly, his rough lips pressed against your temple as he murmured something you could hardly make out. He wasn’t supposed to be so warm next to you in bed, his heart so sturdy against your ear. 

You suppose you didn’t expect love to be something that could sneak up on you as it has with him. You turn away for one minuscule second and look back and now he’s everywhere, a poisonous, suffocating ivy. The invasive type that destroys everything in its path in its attempt to reach the sun. 

Where do you go from here? There’s certainly no going back, not from something so devastating. You think of all those things those people say who have lost their husbands and wives, how painful it was for them but how they wouldn’t change anything, not for the world. 

You don’t think that applies to you. 

You think if you had a choice, a do-over, you’d turn away as soon as you made eye contact with him in that bar. You’d turn away, and you’d never, ever look back. You weren’t built for suffering, not on a scale like this. Not this slow-eating mess of a train wreck. 

You’ve made a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake, and you know now, startlingly, that there’s no going back. Your choices are cemented, and you must live with them. There is no escaping your grief, just like there is no escape for Dabi. You’re both fused together, cursed to eat each other alive. 

You love him. You love him so much it makes you beastly. An uncontrollable, raging beast. You love him, and he’s going to die. He’s going to do it to himself. He’s choosing to do it. He’s going to die, and you love him. 

Your sobs climb higher. You cling to him. He’s whispering something against your temple, but it’s all rushing water in your ear. 

What have you done? Oh God, oh god, oh god, you howl with selfish grief, what have you done?

[https-harlow]

He Loves Me Not, He Loves Me

Thank you so much to @swiftly-harlow for giving this idea to me and supporting me as I’m writing! I dont know when I’m going to start posting this, but enjoy the sneak peak!

Tw: physical and emotional abuse

"How many times has he told you he doesn't love you?"

Sydney and I sat on her bed facing one another as the question slipped past her lips.

"He loves me, he tells me all the time,” I could feel the lump in my throat forming as I answered.

Silence suffocated and filled the room. I knew. I knew he didn't love me, but something about his toxicity kept me hooked. He was bad for me, but something about him kept me coming back.

"Do you love him?"

"Yes,” I said, but there was a hint of caution in my voice, of course I loved him, how could I not. As much as I loved him, I knew he wasn’t good for me. You could put a gun to my head and I’d never admit it though.

Caleb Abbott was something out of this world. Some days he loved me, and some days he didn’t. Yet the merry-go-round made me stay — It was like a drug.

I quickly switched the subject, “I’m hungry, what do you want to eat?”

Sydney rolled her eyes, “Lottie…”

“Sydney…” I mimicked. “Can you please just drop it?”

“Lottie, you came to my house with bruises on your arms, and tears streaming down your face. Why won’t you admit he’s bad for you?”

I sighed, knowing she was right. I was stuck, yet I wanted to stay. He was bad for me, really bad for me. But I feared that If I let him go, there wouldn’t be a single soul left to love me.

Tears threatened my eyes as Sydney looked at me. I needed a way to break the cycle. Nothing was getting better, I needed a change.

***

I sat on the curb with a blanket over my shoulders as the red and blue lights reflected off my neighbors windows. The ENT shined a bright light in my eyes as they ran a small cognitive exam.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I lied. I was utterly traumatized.

I heard someone scream my name as my eyes looked up from the concrete beneath me.

“Lottie! Oh my gosh!”

Hannah’s arms wrapped around me as I winced from the slight pain. I could tell from the look in her eyes that she wanted to kill him. She was angry, yet wanted to make sure I was okay first.

“That mother fucking piece of shitty ass, I swear to God if I ever see him again, I’m going to-“

I shuddered at the memories from hours before as Hannah went on a rant of how terrible my boyfriend is.

“Caleb? Are you home?” I called out as I entered our quiet home.

It reeked of alcohol. Broken bottles and wrappers were discarded around the living room.

Silence.

“Caleb Alexander Abbott?!”

No answer. Again.

“Caleb, I know you're here,” I called out, walking around the corner and into the kitchen. I found Caleb leaning against the dining room table. Another broken alcohol bottle that had fallen off the counter, leaving a puddle of cheap vodka behind.

“Where the fuck did you go?” Caleb asked, his voice carried no emotion, which was enough to send chills down my spine.

“I went to hang out with some friends, I told you that before I left.” I said, a lump already forming in my throat.

“I don’t fucking remember you telling me that,” Caleb slurred. “If you want to go be with your friends instead of me, then go stay with them and get the fuck out.”

“No- that's not- I want to be with you, I’m not going to hang out with them now, I want to be with you. Let’s just go to bed.”

“I said, get the fuck out,” Caleb repeated himself, raising his voice when I didn’t leave. I flinched as Caleb reached for the closest thing to him and threw it in my direction. The glass cup shattering as it hit the wall, a couple of the shards cutting into my skin. Caleb rushed across the room, grabbing my arm so tightly, I knew it would leave a bruise. I tried to pull away from his grasp as he tried to pull me towards the door.

From there it was a blur, each cut and bruise holding a memory that I wouldn’t, or didn’t want to remember. Our neighbors called the cops, like they had in the past. The cops coming to break up the abuse, I couldn’t even call it a fight because I didn’t have the strength mentally or physically to fight back.

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - five | duck and cover

The song ended and Mingi’s group - To The Beat - stopped dancing. You, from where you were sitting on the floor, clapped; their only audience except for a few dancers who were taking a break.

“What’d you think?” Mingi asked as he trotted over and sat, a huge smile on his face.

“I don’t know much about dancing, but you all looked really cool.” You nodded.

He laughed. 

“I did want to ask you something though.”

“Go ahead.”

You stood and walked to the giant To The Beat logo on the wall, “What is that?”

“Our logo?”

You stared at him for a moment and he started laughing.

“Don’t troll me, you know I mean this.”

You pointed lower on the logo. A smaller logo was off in the right-hand corner. It said, ‘Wonderland Entertainment.’ 

Mingi kept laughing.

There was no way you could have known because, despite being close to Wonderland’s building, they weren’t connected or anything.

“What the fuck, my guy?”

His laughter doubled over into wheezes and squeaks and several of the other dancers stopped what they were doing to watch him.

You walked back over and stood in front of him, arms folded. You waited as he flailed around until one of his hands came to rest on your foot.

“No, no. No, no, no--”

“Is that how you knew they were having auditions?”

“It is--”

“You could have just said that.”

He wheezed and patted the spot next to him for you to sit.

You glared at him angrily for a moment and sat down.

“If I said, ‘Hey the place my dance team is a part of is having auditions,’ what would you have said?”

“I don’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was, like, playing favorites or anything. I just heard something from someone else.”

You nodded, brow raised. “Uh huh. And you knew that if you invited me here, I’d see it on the logo, right?”

“It’d come up at some point.”

“You’re so annoying.”

He laughed. “What if I let you flick me on the forehead?”

“I’m not flicking you on the forehead, Mingi.”

He took your hand and put it on his forehead. “Come on, I deserve it. I can take it.”

You laughed and pulled away. “I’m not hitting you, oh my god.”

He smiled. “Are you mad?”

“No, but you could have told me… how’d you find out they were having auditions anyway?”

“I work with the idols and see the producers sometimes and heard that the last bassist had pissed Hongjoong off or something and gotten fired.”

“What’d they do?”

“Umm… I think he didn’t show up for like three weeks? Right in the middle of when they were recording for a few albums.”

“Wow, that’s shitty.”

“I don’t know what was going on, but apparently he left without saying anything.”

“I hope nothing bad happened to him.”

“Yeah, but he could have at least been responsible enough to call and tell them what was happening and why he couldn’t show up for a bit.”

“That’s true.”

“It was a couple months ago too. I guess Hongjoong didn’t really want to hire another bassist or something.”

“So why hire one now?”

“I guess with the album cycle coming up and all the work that he’ll have, he wanted someone else to take some of it off his and Maddox’s hands?” He shrugged.

You nodded. “Makes sense.”

After a ten minute break, Mingi got up to practice another dance. You looked at your phone for a bit and checked your emails: rejection, rejection, rejection. You would have been sad, but at least these places had the decency to tell you that you were rejected; there were some from a few weeks ago that still hadn’t emailed you back, but you figured you were rejected anyway. 

You weren’t too broken up about any of them though, you had made a deal with yourself not to get too into your feelings about them, anticipating a lot of rejections until you finally found the place that would take you.

Perseverance. You had always felt it was your best quality.

“Excuse me?” 

A woman sat down next to you. She seemed about your age or a little older. She had short, pixie-cut hair and square, wide-rimmed glasses. Her face was round and her figure was chubby, and she was dressed in a very hip-hop kind of way that made her look like she walked out of a music video. Way more fashionable than you were.

“I’m Dei,” she held out her hand to shake. 

You did.

“Normally I go by Deizel, it’s my name from my street dancing days. I’m one of the choreographers.”

“Oh, hi. I’m t/n.”

She smiled. “I haven’t seen you around before. You know Mingi?”

“Oh, I’ve only known him a few weeks. We met because I make some of the mashups To The Beat dances to when they busk.”

“Oh, really? Which ones?”

“Umm, I don’t know if you’ll know the names.”

“Try me.” She smiled.

“Umm, I made the ‘Ultimate Dreamcatcher Halloween’ mashup, the ‘True Armys Only’ BTS mashup, I also made the ‘2021 Rap God’ mashup that they used for a video--”

“You made those?” She hit you playfully.

You laughed. “Yeah.”

“Oh my god, I love all of those! That’s so cool!”

You laughed again. 

She sat next to you happily for a few moments while you went back to your phone.

“What are you checking for?”

You looked up.

“If I can ask.”

“You can. I was just checking for emails about some places I auditioned at.”

“Oh, are you becoming a producer or something?”

“Hah, maybe someday. But no, I’ve been auditioning for studio bassist gigs, but I keep getting rejected.”

“Oh, that sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“If you play with the same genius that you use to mix songs, you have to be good.”

You laughed shyly.

“I’m serious!”

“I mean, I’ve been playing bass since I was seventeen, so, I better be good.”

“Wow, shit, that long?”

“Mhm.”

She whistled. “That’s so cool, I wish I could play an instrument.”

“You dance, that’s cool.”

“Fuck yeah, it is.”

You both laughed.

“Wouldn’t mind knowing how to play an instrument though.”

“What would you play, if you could?”

“Hmm, piano I think.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Everything sounds nice on the piano.”

You nodded.

The two of you watched the dance practice for a bit before they stopped for a break and Mingi came back over.

In the back of the room, you could see a figure walk past the door. Their face looked familiar. There was no way it was him, right? The door opened: Jeong Yunho walked in.

Oh shit.

You stood, ready to use the crowd of dancers to your advantage.

“I’m gonna go, Mingi. Gotta get back to those audition listings. It was nice meeting you, Dei.”

“Yeah, no doubt. Good luck, it was good seeing you.”

“Bye, t/n.” Dei waved from the floor.

You waved and ducked past a few dancers, putting them between you and Yunho.

Well, you could never show up there again.

  previous | main cast | masterlist | next

luvvvx • iamthehotdemon •

[fayoftheforest]

rating the main five based on how sickly i think they’d be <3

(AKA I’m on my fourth cold since september and if i have to suffer then so do my blorbos)

Stan: 4/10. He gets nauseous quite a lot, but that’s typically to do with his anxiety and less a stomach bug. When he does get sick, he will keep powering through his daily life as if nothing’s the matter, until some kind soul goes “Woah, dude, you don’t look so good,” upon which he will realise that he doesn’t feel so good either, and then he collapses into a heap and crawls into bed until he’s feeling better. He has asthma, so sometimes that makes respiratory-related illnesses stressful and potentially dangerous, but he’s got a reliable stock of inhalers, and 1+ very stressed out caretaker(s), so he’s alright in the end, and usually recovers pretty quickly.

Kyle: 8/10. With canon and fanon as my witness, I do declare that is one sickly motherfucker. From the first snowfall he’s sniffling, and it doesn’t stop until the last of it has melted. But shitty immune system be damned, this boy can work a cold denial! He will keep strutting around no matter how down bad he is, insisting that he’s fine, like he’s genuinely fine, like no that wasn’t a sneeze followed by a painful coughing fit, you must have misheard, and yes his nose has always been that red, that’s perfectly normal actually, and get your fucking hand away from his forehead he’s not FEVERISH he’s FINE. Once he’s finally been wrestled into bed, he will lay there feeling deeply sorry for himself and worrying that he’s going to infect his caretaker(s), until he gets sidetracked contemplating all the things he has left to do today, and before you know it he’s puttering about the house again, and the cycle continues. 

Cartman: 3/10. He rarely gets ill, but you wouldn’t know it. It’d be too easy to dismiss him for a hypochondriac, but he knows exactly what he’s doing when he starts his woe-is-me speil over some suposed sickness. Over the years he has perfected faking illnesses into a fine art, to the point where unless you had good reason to be suspicious, you couldn’t separate his coughs, sneezes and general sickly presentation from the real deal. We’re talking Ferris Beuler level trickery here folks!! He generally abuses his talent to get out of school, work, or any unwanted responsibilities, but when the opportunity presents itself he will conveniently accidentally “sneeze” right on the back of germaphobic Kyle’s neck. Which is received about as well as you’d expect it to. (With rage, and threats of violence :)

Kenny: 6/10. The total opposite to Cartman, Kenny gets sick a little more than most, but is a master at concealing his illnesses. Kyle wishes he was on Kenny’s level. This guy could be on the brink of death and the only thing that would call attention to it is him ever so slightly clearing his throat, and then quietly apologising for it. If anyone does figure out that he’s sick, he won’t deny it, but he’ll certainly downplay it. He does not no how to handle sympathy directed his way, and reacts to any attempts at caring for him with awkward gratitude and a constant reminder that they really don’t have to be doing this right now. But, if shown just the right amount of kindness, he will break down sobbing because everything hurts and he’s just so exhausted and he misses being able to breath through his nose. After that he will fall asleep, and when he wakes up he’ll feel a bit better but extremely embarassed, and start apologising all over again.

Butters: 5/10. For once, he’s the most sensible of the bunch, because when he comes down with something, he’ll take a few days off until he’s back on his feet. But by god is he clingy when he’s sick. If you are not with him, he will be constantly texting you. If you are with him he will still be texting you because he may have lost his voice, but he’s still got plenty to tell you!! He also begins to feel very touch-starved, and becomes a lot more touchy-feely with others, which is welcomed by some, tolerated by others, and loathed by Kyle, because god fucking damn it Butters keep your icky germs away from him :(((

Anyway yeah those are my headcanons! I’d love to hear your own personal ratings too. Might make a part two for CATG if people are interested in my soft, loving sadism :)

[neverending-city-lights]

This status quo with you feels…

…safe. I have no desire to break it. But what’s crazier is that even after all this time—weeks and weeks—I still don’t really know what I want. After all this time—you’d think I know. That I’d be able to suss it out over the time you occupy my head, my thoughts. The weight of my chest and the warning in the back of my mind.

How am I supposed to not be thrown by who you are? The current thing that's keeping me at a distance?

This: One day—you tell me he's blocked. "Vibes were rancid" you said. And then the very next day you’re telling me I don’t know you at all and essentially cutting me out of your life by accusing me of things I’ve never done. And then refusing to listen when I tell you that you were lied too.

Weeks pass ... and the next thing I hear—you’ve hung out with him 3x in a few weeks and he’s gone from town. You say ���it was like talking to a stranger.” Hmm. Where have I heard that before? OH yah. You saying it to me. And that's when I came to the realization that you go through these cyles with EVERYONE. And that I can't even trust your view of what happens because of how warped your perception is.

YOU are the problem. You and your emotional instability. You RUN from any and every truth relating to your emotions because you are too immature and ignorant to handle them.

“I don’t know why I miss him?” What the fuck do you mean? How stupid can you get? Of course you know.

But no. You’ll only say that you loved him on a disappearing instagram message because you flee from your emotions. You flee from every truth. You let yourself forget and let your memory obscure any true revelation you might have or KEEP about others.

I repeat. YOU are the problem. Where did I see this cycle before? OH yes. Me. Because you put me through the same shitty cycles I watch you go through with other people.

I'm glad we haven't fixed out staus quo because I don't trust you to not fuck it all up again.

And despite my harsh words and feelings, I still EMPATHIZE with you. I UNDERSTAND that the abuse you've suffered fucked you up. It warped your head and twisted you so deeply. Someone (hi! It's me, I'm someone), can pour their soul out to you—and see so much of yours—and you can go and beleive lies about them or say you don’t know them to their fucking face. And sure you waved it all away with some half-assed “well *technically* it’s so little compared to the life of a person”, but you know just as well as I do that it’s bullshit. We objectively know a lot about each other—but they’re not past events, their current world states so to speak.

Or at least—for a long time—I did know your current world state. I was living in it. Breathing it. I … was loving it.

And time and time again—cycle after cycle—you did the same crushing things. The same mistakes. So I repeat a third time. You’ve always been the problem.

And maybe it took the world falling to absolute fucking shit for me to see that so clearly.

But ultimately—you’re a coward. And I'm anything but.

And that’s where we clash most. You've run from the truth at every turn. Sometimes I’m not even sure you know what the truth is.

My boyfriend was right to leave you in the dust all those months ago. And YOU were right—you’re not welcome here—because you’ve ruined every chance you had to be welcome here. We sat on the sofa the other night, thinking of the time you spent all day—and evening—with us. It was ... really, really wonderful. We both thought so. Yet those times seem so far past, because you went through the same cycle with my boyfriend. It's no wonder you find it so hard to keep friendships. Because you’ve always been the problem. And perhaps I’ve been a fool to not realize that sooner.

[pinkandpurple360]

Alternative ending - Loona and Blitz

Based on the animatic where Loona finds Blitzø on the couch dissociating, but this time she doesn’t project herself onto stolas. She doesn’t use guilt to tell her dad to go win back his abusers affection by acting as if it’s the same as adopting her.

Blitzø: I had a really shitty night. Followed Stolas to that anti Blitzø party, he called me a motherfucker in front of everybody, I tried to talk to him. But he just left and macked on some dude right in front of me. It’s all my fault. I fucked up. Maybe Verosika is right, maybe I should let go and stay far away from him forever, let him be happy. But why…why don’t I want to..maybe..I should..I don’t..

Loona: Yes and No.

Blitzø: What?

Loona: Yes, please for the love of fuck let this “relationship” end, but no, this isn’t about you being awful and making him all unhappy. All you ever care about is satisfying him. Blitzø, he’s the one who needs to stay away from YOU forever!

Blitzø: I know…Cause I fuck up everything and all I do is destroy—

Loona: No! Because look at yourself! Look how he’s made you feel! Again! You were doing so well before, going on missions, having fun with Millie, you and that prissy bow tie jerk are getting along better than ever. You’ve even got an old friend back. You’ve built this life for all of us, on the condition that you keep that nepo baby happy. I’m sick of this cycle, you get on a high-

Blitzø: No but—

Loona: —Then this clingy rich asshole makes you feel bad-ugh. You got up the other morning all loud, hyping yourself up, but you were so anxious, you left the office the other day sweating, he shouldnt make you feel that way-and okay maybe that was partially cause of what I said about him being bored of you. But—

Blitzø: No, no none of this is—

Loona: Thats only cause idiots like him have a short attention span. And now after doing better for so many months, the second you see him, you’re back on this damn couch again, you’re drunk, sad and miserable. This is JUST like your last “date” with the guy! Remember that, after Bees party? You said it was a shitty day then too. Now you’re doing it again?

Blitzø: Im sorry Loonie. I don’t want you to see me like this…

Loona: I don’t want to see you like this either. But it’s not all on you. Shit I’m tired of making excuses for this guy, he’s always hurting you, he’s always hurting Via, and then just sits back with people kissing his ass, telling him nothing is his fault and he’s a victim of everyone else. Well he’s really not! He’s the clingy obsessed one who calls you all the time!! Asking for ‘a special request’ or booty calls. You can’t see that? He’s trained you to expect it and act the same. I just…I’m scared…

Blitzø: Scared? You? Don’t be silly Loonie. I know he can…get a bit of a temper sometimes but—

Loona: Yeah. I know. I’ve seen it. He screams in your face, yanks on your cheek and calls us all “little critters” not to mention the time he blew up the office cause we didn’t babysit his brat for him.

Blitzø: I know..and I’m sorry about that Loonie, I’m sorry you had to run around to find Via. It was my fault.

Loona: No—I mean—thank you but-no it was actually my fault. I was a mega bitch that day. I haven’t gotten so angry in years I just-I’m sorry, I was seeing red and you were only trying to parent. You always stand by me. I let Via walk on by and didn’t even try to stop her. But the worst part is you took the fall for me and didn’t even realise you were doing it. That violent lunatic could’ve killed one of you if he felt like it. I’m scared because, I know what it’s like to have someone break your willpower into obeying them and being loyal to their orders. To…always depend on bringing them joy just so they keep you around.

Blitzø: Look he was just mad, he’s been through so much. He’s not the type to-he’d never-I provoked him with that phone call.

Loona: You didn’t though! This is what I mean! He has to be responsible for his own feelings and responses. You fixed HIS problem, he expected it of you, of us. It wasn’t octavias, or mine, or your fault, it was him, it was His actions. Yet everyone ELSE is apologising?? THIS, this right here is what scares me. He treats you like shit, bosses you around, all of us actually, and one second you seem to recognise that, and the next, you’re beating yourself up, and blaming yourself. He gets in your head, messes with you, then cries one single time and you fold. You gotta stop being such a people pleaser.

Blitzø: I deserve it.

Loona: Enough already. You don’t. Please, don’t answer his calls anymore. I’ll block his number. If he wants to play silent treatment and kiss your exes to get back at you for not kissing his ass, fine. Let him. This crystal here. It’s a blessing in disguise. I know deep down, he knows he’s bad for you, and he knows this is toxic, but he’s such a little bitch he’d rather blame you and let you blame yourself. People like him aren’t used to accountability or saying thank you. Especially after hurting imps or demanding services from them.

Blitzø: He really doesn’t like it when I talk about me being an imp…

Loona: Shows how much he does not care about what you go through. Speaking of thank you, he never did thank me for going out of my way for his kid like that, or thank the guys for saving his ass so many times, did he? Only Via and you thanked me.

Blitzø: he probably just forgot, he’s naive, sheltered! Maybe yknow-maybe he just doesn’t have very good self awareness at times? Or he-

Loona: Hes not that innocent. You can only be an asshole by accident so many times. I heard about how he treated Millie at that theme park. I bet he let that cowboy assassin steal him, he didn’t even sound that alarmed over the phone. “I think you should come save me” that’s what he said right? You and me take care of his kid, and the one time you told him you had to take care of yours, he needs you to run over? He was probably more pissed that you weren’t specifically the “knight in shining armour” than being kidnapped right? That’s what all of this is about? You not following his romcom shit on stage and being an actual person instead?

Blitzo: ……

Loona: Bingo. And this is the guy you’re crying over? Dad, you may be kinda sleazy—

Blitzø: Hey! Dont call me—

Loona: Really sleazy. But even you deserve better than this. Now shut up no more crying and we’ll watch your dumb pony show.

[hellmouth-manor]

The tale of a swallowtail butterfly | Nike | mm.4

When Nike first met Alou, they found him in the garden keeping company to a swallowtail butterfly as it reached the end of its cycle— a perfect picture of benevolence. This is where his nickname for her comes from: Swallowtail; much like the twin-tailed raptor; much like the dying butterfly perched upon his finger. Somehow it’s this memory that comes to mind as he makes his curtain call, because Nike had thought then that it was touching, and confusing, the depth of kindness one must have to demonstrate such gentleness towards a smaller being. But now, they wonder if ‘kindness’ was ever the right word. 

They wonder if they were actually the insect, and not the bird. 

“Would you consider yourself strong? Or weak?”

More on the swallowtail butterfly: the swallowtail gets its name from the “tails” hanging on the back of its wings resembling the forked tail of a swallow. 

There is a practical purpose to this, other than to intimidate larger predators with its design.

“What do you think makes a person strong?”

The tail of a swallowtail is brittle. Oh so very brittle. It runs the chance of ripping at the slightest touch. Should a hungry bird snap its beak over the fragile end, the butterfly can set itself free by breaking off a part of itself. The swallowtail, after relishing its victory, will continue doing everything it has to in order to survive, so that it can die at the ripe old age of 12 days. 

A meaningless resistance to an unforgiving existence.

In this case, Alou is right: Nike is no different than a Swallowtail.

Despite doing everything to keep herself intact, Nike always finds herself on the verge of breaking apart. Every step forward was another part devoured: her mind, her body, her heart. Everyday, a sacrifice, until one day the inevitable happens and he loses his life. Yet, even then, he doesn’t stop fighting. By all means, he shouldn’t have to fight so hard, but god he does anyway. Because if there’s anything they’ve learned in this godforsaken inferno, it’s that leaving something behind doesn’t make it lost.

“I think caring makes people terrifyingly strong. There's a lot you can be willing to do... a lot you can be willing to put yourself through, if you care.”

“Then you have the answer to your second question. Given that, do you think that I am strong or weak?”

“I think you're stronger than any person should have to be.”

This is the one point that Alou and Nike can find understanding: that there is unfathomable strength in caring. That saving others, protecting them, is an endless well of motivation. 

However, not even for a second does that makes Alou strong. 

Because all he knows is how to take. He takes, and takes, and takes, and you can’t be strong if you’re too afraid to lose. 

Nike won’t let Alou take any more parts of them— not a leg, or a wing, or a tail.

“God, I didn’t think you could even be a bigger hypocrite.”

Nike laughs— the most carefree sound she has ever made.

“Poor Alou! Made to carry a cross that no one asked him to! Well, I’m gonna call bullshit that this was your life calling! There could’ve been many different ways things could’ve gone. You could’ve done anything, could’ve fought harder out of your role. Instead, you chose the easy way out! You don’t know the meaning of sacrifice even if it bit you in the ass!”

“That’s why I refuse to tie your life with mine. It doesn’t fucking matter if it’s all ‘cultivated’ or whatever,”

They pound their fist on the surface with enough force it breaks skin. 

“It’s my shitty life and you can’t take that away from me.”

[quantumshade]

i tried to explain what generational trauma is to someone recently and they were like “oh so because something happened historically, you get to have issues about it now?” and no.... that’s not what that is.

when i was in 8th grade, on my class trip to washington dc, we visited the holocaust museum. it’s a wonderful, extensive, informative place, and it’s a beautiful tribute to the victims. as a jewish kid, i knew what the holocaust was. i’d faced antisemetism every day of my life, and will continue to do so. i knew what had happened to my ancestors not too long ago.

but when i stood in that museum. in the recreation of the cattle trains used to move us to the camps. in the recreation of an auschwitz cabin, staring at the map of the camp. when i saw the pile of shoes and jewelry taken from the victims. when i learned how their hair, so very much like mine, was cut for having texture. and how their teeth were pulled for the gold fillings. i had a panic attack.

it was embarrassing, but i was a shitty little 8th grader, and i tried to hide it. but I couldn’t breathe. it was like there was a band around my chest the entire time i was in the museum. i was surrounded by ghosts, by the whispers of emaciated men and trapped women and crying children.

what is generational trauma?

it’s the psychological idea that trauma can be passed down through multiple different ways. trauma can change you significantly, even rewrite neural pathways and physically change how you think. that, paired with the cycle of subconsciously sharing our trauma with our children, as well as mixing with the trauma we learn as we grow, leads to some really rough patches in our relationships with our identites.

this is a really great 4 minute video from the healing foundation about the trauma carried by indigenous people in Australia. tw for some really heavy topics, but all presented in a relaxed and serious environment.

what do we do?

well, honestly, i don’t know. it’s not like we’re gonna stop sharing our stories with our descendants, nor our histories. we can’t get rid of things related to our identities that give us our own trauma, the bigotry we face unfortunately isn’t going anywhere.

but being aware of your generational trauma is a good step. it’s not just being “sad” or “sensitive” to history. it’s our history still affecting us today. when your indigenous friends are made upset by discussions of colonization, when your black friends feel the weight of a millenia of racism placed on their shoulders, when your gay friends ask you to please stop using that word, when your trans friends see another historical figure deadnamed and misgendered, when your jewish friends can’t talk about the Shoah without their voices breaking.

so why the fuck are you lecturing us?

our murdered ancestors live on in us, in our eyes, our hearts. we are reminded of them constantly, made painfully aware of who we are and how many people hate us.

we were not supposed to survive, and if most of the world had their way, we wouldn’t have. (no, the allies were not heroes of wwii, you turned us away at your borders and continue to let us die from nazis today. if america had had the option, they wouldn’t have given a shit about jewish victims, but that’s a whole other essay i could write)

it’s time to start acknowledging the past, acknowledging your generational trauma and the trauma of those around you. i’m not making up an excuse to “have issues”. at the time i’m writing this, october 2020, i’m 17. i have felt this weight my entire life, and i will continue to shoulder it, as will everyone else.

my point is, maybe we can shoulder that weight together. maybe then it won’t weigh us down as badly. we have solidarity, and we are tough, and resilient, and strong, and beautiful. your generational trauma is something to be aware of, but not ashamed of. we can do this—change the world for the better. we can break the cycle so our descendants don’t feel as we do.

[korkiekenobiconfirmed]

“But he’s racist” seems to be the ONLY argument antis have against Billy in any situation, and it’s weird.

It’s weird that they call ppl “obsessed” over Billy getting a redemption arc when they’ve decided that his racism is simply the end-all be-all of his entire, complex character.

“Why are you so obsessed with the idea of him being redeemed??” I don’t know, why are you so against the idea that bigoted people can learn and change and grow?

Because even if you go with the base assumption that Billy used that “people you stay away from” line and threatened lucas away from max out of his own personal opinions on black people (which, while not strictly incorrect, is definitely the most boring interpretation), why should that mean he deserves to die? do you know how many people I knew in middle and high school who were complete shitheads?

A fucking lot.

How many of them would I have said deserved to die a violent death?

None.

Why are you looking at a teenager, living in a abusive situation he almost certainly doesn’t have the financial means to escape, and placing such high expectations on his shoulders? Expecting him to break out of the cycle of abuse and unlearn the shitty rhetoric his violent father has taught him at the ripe age of SEVENTEEN is ridiculous.

So no, you don’t have to like Billy… But stop taking the moral high ground when you speak against him. Condemning a teenager to death for the shitty way they choose to cope with abuse does not make you morally superior.

[lubdubsworld]

The Devil’s Own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.) 

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things. 

Chapter 1

“ Sign it. ”

I glared at him, feeling sick at the tone. The entitlement.

“No.” I said sharply and I could feel his anger swelling, morphing into something dangerous and deadly but I couldn’t care anymore. I was tired. Exhausted. This cat and mouse game had gone on , long enough. It wasn’t an even playing field, in any sense of the qword.

If today was the day I died, so be it. I would accept it. I would even welcome it.

I was done.

He had everything : an empire at his beck and call , enough money to pave the streets of Seoul in gold and an army of loyal associates behind him. His face was plastered on Billboards across the country , the President posted pictures of him on his fucking SNS and delegates from other countries had to wait weeks , just to get an appointment with the youngest billionaire South Korea had ever seen.

And yet none of those white collared dignitaries saw this side of him. The dirty, violent ruthless man who had more blood on his hands than anyone else in the country. My father’s. My brothers’.

Jeon Jungkook was both the most revered business man in the country and the undisputed king of Seoul’s criminal underbelly.

“You defiance only makes me want to break you in other ways Elena.” He said warningly and I felt my throat go dry. I stared at him, wondering how someone could look so expensively gorgeous and yet, like a hardened criminal.

The expensive silk shirt, the fitted slacks and the handmade shoes ought to clash with the dark ink that covered his entire arm and neck, the piercing on his eyebrow and the glint of metal on his tongue but it didn’t.

It just all came together to make him the most attractive man in existence.

I took a deep breath. Perhaps begging was the way to go?

“ You have my father’s company. You have my brother’s Hospital and you have the family mansion. It’s all yours. This bakery belongs to my mother. It’s all I have left of her. My sister in law is pregnant , due any day. She needs a place to stay and I don’t… I don’t have money to rent anywhere else.” I said desperately, thinking of the paltry wage I earned waiting tables. I could barely afford food for myself let alone for Jisoo and the baby on the way.

The bakery was abandoned but it had a roof. The furniture was crumbling but I could fix that. If I didn’t have to worry about rent, I could save up enough to make it livable. At least till I got a better job.

“I’ve offered you solutions for all of that.” He reminded me softly, eyes trained unblinkingly on me and I stared at him.

“I’m not going to be your whore.” I felt my voice shake.

He grimaced.

“You aren’t qualified to be my whore. And I don’t need one either. Whores are not my thing. I have a beautiful fiancée, don’t you remember? ” He grinned. I felt my heart ache because that fiancée was once my best friend. The only person I had trusted with my entire life. Lisa had betrayed my trust, had spied on my father’s operations and brought him down and I had the horrible, horrible inkling that she had also had something to do with my father and brother’s untimely death in a car crash.

But I couldn’t think about that. Every time I thought about her my heart broke and head spun, and I had to be at my maximum mental capacity if I was going to deal with her heartless fiancée.

“ If you ask me, you’re not fit for anything more than a back alley blowjob for a couple bucks. But Hoseok thinks you have potential. Join his agency, there are a lot of very wealthy men who have a bone to pick with your father. He made a shit ton of enemies. Most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of you. ”

His words felt like worms crawling all over my skin and I could feel the nausea churn inside me.

“I’m not signing the bakery over. You can call the creditors. I still have another year and half to pay the one remaining loan and they won’t come for me till then.” I felt my head begin to throb and Jungkook sighed.

“Suit yourself.” He stood up and I stayed still, watching his tall frame tower over me with ease. He gave me a small bitter smile. It was fraught with hatred and I stared back at him, knowing the emotion was probably mirrored in my gaze.

“Beautiful Elena. As pretty as the day you left me at the altar.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Your vengeance is petty and pointless and unfair…just like you.” I said angrily, frustration building u at his words. The way he talked about our broken engagement like it even mattered. It hadn’t even been real. We had hardly spoken and my father had called the wedding off at the last moment. But apparently, that had been the last straw for the Jeons. They had come after my father’s entire existence with a single minded intent to destroy him and they had succeeded. The man was dead . His two sons were dead.

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook stared at me, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe. But it’s also deadly and potent. And it won’t rest until I see you reduced to nothing but a whore on the streets, spreading your legs for every man who can afford you.” He laughed. “ Saying no is a luxury , one that you’ll soon be unable to afford.”

I refused to be cowed, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words scared me. Because they did.

They scared me so damn much.

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

“This bed is so lumpy… I’m so sorry, unnie..” I said apologetically but Jisoo shook her head quickly, palms cupping my face as I held her elbows, gently lowering her to the bed. I stared at her feet, feeling my heart race at how swollen they looked. That can’t be normal, a voice whispered and

I didn’t know if that was normal and I had no money to take her to a clinic. The social center we usually went to only allowed three visits per month and we had used it all up. I wanted to throw caution to the wind and spend the thirty thousand won it would take but that would mean no groceries for a week and surely bread and eggs wouldn’t stretch that long, even if I could sneak meals in the restaurant for myself.

“I’ve been feeling a little dizzy…I’ll just sleep.” She said tiredly. She was thirty six weeks along, not due for another four weeks but her blood pressure was erratic. Her lab numbers were oscillating and there had been talks of an emergency c section. Even with insurance it was way more than I could afford but I had my own jewelry, a few expensive trinkets from my teenage years. I’d been obsessed with diamonds and my father had indulged me and I had a pair of earrings left. I’d already sold the rest but this would take care of the medical bills for the birth itself.

“My shift starts in ten minutes. I have to go. Give me a call if you need anything…” I said softly and I saw the familiar blank and listless look come into her eyes. I knew she was depressed, dealing with grief and pregnancy and loss but there was nothing I could do for her. Nothing. I had applied for a bunch of other jobs but they never wrote back. It wasn’t easy, being rejected over and over again but it wasn’t like there was much else I could do. And the truth was I was resigned to this, accepted that at some point I would have to take more loans and be stuck in an endless cycle of debt for the rest of my life.

And I had made peace with that.

There was no future for me. And I was okay with just surviving.

If only Jungkook would let me.

Apparently, watching me wipe down greasy tables and mop up floors and toilets trying to earn just enough to get a few square meals didn’t soothe his anger. It only fueled it. Jungkook couldn’t fathom that it had been six whole months of me on the streets of Seoul and I wasn’t completely destitute yet. I’d kept myself and my sister in law alive, safe and it pissed him off.

He wanted to see me broken and on my knees, begging him for help. The idea of me somehow surviving despite him taking everything away from me, it just didn’t sit well with him.

I couldn’t afford to have him as an enemy so all I could really hope was that one day he would wake up and give up. One day he would just wake up and decide that I wasn’t worth it.

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

When I walked into my shift and noticed a familiar pair of high heeled Louboutins , completely out of place in my seedy place of employment, I knew I was in trouble. Lisa sat against one of the booths and her gaze was fixated on the door which meant she was waiting for someone. And when her eyes narrowed at the sight of me, I just knew I was the someone.

She wants to get me fired.

It wasn’t rocket science and I felt the urge to turn right back around and leave.  But I tamped down on it. I could get through this. I would get through this. Lisa and Jungkook got off on invoking reactions and I wouldn’t give them that.

Except it wasn’t that easy.

It was a nightmare, watching her demand and reject and walk all over me but the sleeplessness from the past few days made spacing out easier and I just stared away at the wall as she yelled and complained and made a scene.

“You’ve stopped fighting? Finally giving up? Good…” She hissed when the manager apologized to her and told me to meet him after my shift and I felt myself tremble in indignation.

“I won’t fight you or Jungkook, you and I both know I can’t afford to.” I said quietly and she went still, something flashing in her eyes for a second. It was gone before I could fully process it but it had been there. Guilt.

Lisa wasn’t a terrible human. She had been a dear friend. We had grown up together and she had even hugged and teased me when I’d been betrothed to Jungkook, all those years ago. I had been twenty back then, naïve and spoiled. While Jungkook had taken my father’s entire legacy apart, piece by piece, Lisa had been nothing more than a pawn. I remembered all the times I had let her home, how she would disappear for lengths of time.

Planting bugs all over the house. All over his office. Jungkook had been smart. Someone like Lisa, so fascinated by thr wealth she had grown up around would naturally jump at the idea of more. It wasn’t greed. It was human nature. And with her help he had destroyed everything my father had built over decades.

I shuddered. My father hadn’t been a good man. He had been greedy, yes. But he hadn’t deserved to die. And Jungkook would have to pay for that sin, someday.

“There’s a job waiting for you in Hoseok’s club.” She smiled cruelly , “ you don’t need this one.”

“The fact that you want to take it away from me, tells me that maybe there’s nothing left in you save.” I said blankly and she turned her nose up at me.

“I have Jungkook. I don’t need to be saved.”

I shook my head. She was so naïve. Men like Jungkook cared for nothing but themselves. But I wondered if women like her didn’t care for anything but the money that came with being his. Money was precious, I thought bitterly. I’d never realized how privileged I had been until I’d had it all ripped away.

“He’s the one you need saving from. And one day you’ll realize that.” I shrugged, not in the mood to offer her anymore life advice.  If she was alright with being a trophy wife in exchange for a few pretty shoes that was her prerogative.

Before she could reply,  my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked nervously and I felt my heart drop to my knees when I heard who it was.

I turned on my heel rushing inside and my manager gave me a look of surprise.

“ My sister..she’s… she’s sick. I need to go.” I said desperately and his eyes narrowed. It was the worst timing. He was already annoyed because of Lisa and I stared in disbelief as he quickly shook his head.

“No. I’m sorry Elena…I just can’t let you leave like that…” He said sharply.

It was so unfair.

“I haven’t taken a single day off in five months…” I said desperately..” Please, she’s pregnant..She needs me, she-“

“If you leave, you won’t have a job to come back to. I can’t do this.. First you make trouble with a customer and now you just want to walk out in the middle of your shift without any notice…”

“Fine. Fire me.” I snapped, because I’d just had enough of it. I was exhausted, and tomorrow I’d go knocking on some other tore and I’d get a job. I lived in Seoul …How hard could it be? For now, I had to get to Jisoo. I had to get the hospital and things would be okay.

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

It wasn’t okay.

“I… You want to keep her in? So soon?”

“Her blood pressure is through the roof. There are signs of severe pre eclampsia and we want to get her started on a magnesium drip. Steroids to help the baby’s lungs incase we need to deliver…”

“Deliver..?” I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, I’m sorry…. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down we’re going to have to deliver.”

I nodded, glancing at the bed where Jisoo was sleeping, her face swollen and I knew that she was sick. Really sick. She looked pallid and ill.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked hoarsely.

“We’re going to do what we can… But I’m going to be honest, we’re looking at a c section, a lot of meds and also some time in the NICU for the baby…. Can you afford it? Your sister’s insurance only covers 80% .”

I blinked, completely thrown. White noise rushed through my ears,  a dull throb settling right at the base of my skull and beginning to spread all the way to my arms and back. It was panic mixed wth anxiety mixed with despair and I couldn’t quite cope. The earrings wouldn’t cover all that.

“Oh… Oh..yeah.” I said dully, “ Of course I can… Let me just…. Can I have a moment? There’s somethings I need to do.”

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

I carefully slipped the cash into the envelope, swallowing as I sat on the pavement. I’d got another call from the hospital, they had administered the steroids but Jisoo’s condition seemed to be worsening. They wanted to try inducing labour soon but they wanted me to pay for the room and for the medicines, and apparently, the earrings weren’t as valuable as I thought they were.

I fought nausea wrapping arms around myself as I stared at the cars whizzing by, the putrid city air clogging my lungs as I tried to come to terms with what was happening. Jisoo needed help. She was the only one left and she carried my brother’s son. I felt my throat clog when I thought of Daehwan. He had been a good guy. I had loved him. It wasn’t fair, what Jungkook had done to my family, I thought miserably .

And the only reason I wasn’t driven by vengeance or anger was because I was nothing like Jungkook. I hated him. I didn’t want him to live in my head, didn’t want to waste any part of myself on him , not even my anger. But it was hard when he wouldn’t let me breathe, always at my heels like a wolf : jaws snapping and blood thirsty eyes trained on me at all times. I couldn’t fathom his obsession sometimes. Surely, his hatred was uncalled for now? He’d taken everything from me anyway.  

There was a dull roaring in my ears, one that said that this was not really a surprise. I’d thought about it way too often, had considered it countless times. Had even spent one absolutely horrifying evening scouring the streets of Seoul’s red light district just to see how sex workers behaved.

I’d also realized that in the face of desperation, dignity didn’t hold much value.

You are going to pay your debts on your back and on your knees.

The first time Jungkook had thrown it at my face, eyes glinting with glee, my stomach had rebelled so hard. I’d been absolutely infuriated, had thrown a vase at him. And it had been awful,  watching him catch it out of the air with ease, his mocking laughter making my bones rattle as he shook his head, “ That’s how this ends, Elena. Mark my words.”

And it was pitiful ,  that he went through life so consumed with hatred and vindictive cruelty that he couldn’t leave me alone . He was pathetic. That’s how I saw him. A pathetic child who refused to stop tormenting the helpless ant on the floor although it was no match for his cruelty.

At some point Jungkook was going to win. And his idea of winning was seeing me stripped bare of the one thing that kept me alive : my freedom.

It had just happened sooner than I’d thought.

Because I knew what it would mean, to go to Hoseok. He would own me. Hoseok’s whores were all slaves, tangled in his web so badly that there was no hope of escape. He wasn’t cruel but he was smart. No one left the his ‘ agency’ once they went in. I would be lost, forever. And I couldn’t stomach it.

I stared at my knees, fists clenched on the fabric of my skirt. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the contacts. I considered it carefully. I had to do this on my terms. Had to make sure I retained some sort of control here.

And I knew just how to do it.

Hoseok picked up on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“I need help.” I croaked out.

The deep chuckle made my skin crawl.

“Elena Gong. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise. What can I do you for?” He drawled.

“Well sweetheart, I’m all out of charity so you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

I took a deep breath.

“I’m a virgin.” I whispered.

The line went completely silent.

“What?” The amusement in his voice died.

“You heard me and I’ll let you cash in on it. I’ll let you auction it off…” I tamped down on the burning protest in my lung, the screaming inside my head that said it was horrifying, that I was considering this. “ But only if you keep my terms.”

“What makes you think you have a say in that.” He said sharply and I laughed.

“I belong to your world, Hoseok. Did you forget that we were friends, once.” I whispered and he didn’t reply.

Laughter, kindness, a big brother I could always count on, hobi oppa, nine year old me with my fingers curled around his wrist as we ran all around the gardens , a smile so wide that he could spread sunshine on the gloomiest days. Different from Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi and the others. Willing to include a ‘ girl’ in his playtime. Lisa and I the only girls, not even fazed watching as the rest of them wielded toy guns and mock interrogation scenes, pretending to kill and maim and torture because that was the world we were born into.

“We’re not friends, Elena. Let’s get that straight. The only part of you that holds any value to me is th part between your legs. So tell me, what do you want.”

“When was the last time you auctioned off someone’s virginity? You know how much money you can make off something like that. Not just from the sale itself but from the entire night. Your club… Your gaming hell…. All of it.”

“You expect me to believe you’re a virgin. At twenty seven.” He scoffed.

“Put the word out, everywhere. If you find one man who says he’s slept with me , I’ll back off.”

“That would require me to tarnish your  family name. And you’re alright with that?”

I smiled biotterly.

“Isn’t that what you and your precious Jungkookie want? To see the last living Gong, be labeled as a whore and a slut.”

He didn’t reply.

“I’ll give you that. You can do it… You know that will only interest more people. As Jungkook so eloquently put it, most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of me.”

“What’s the catch. What do you want. ”

“2 billion won.”  I said firmly “It will be one night. One night only and I want enough money to pay off every one of my father’s debts, to get me an apartment for my sister in law and to support her and her baby for a year at least.”

“Done.” He said without missing a beat and I went still. What must it be like, to throw around money like that without a care in the world. And it sickened me that Jungkook was probably ten times as rich as Hoseok , the money my father owed him and his associates not even pocket change in comparison to his gargantuan wealth and yet, he stayed on my heels, snapping his jaws like a dog with a bone.

“And Jungkook doesn’t get to watch.” I said softly, knowing exactly what Jungkook would get off on.

That made Hoseok laugh.

“You know him too well. I keep forgetting he was madly in love with you once.”

I resisted the urge to vomit. Jungkook didn’t know love. He knew ownership. He didn’t love me, he thought he owned me. That I was his to play with…. For the rest of his life. And when my father had denied him that, just like a toddler in a toy store being denied a shiny toy to break and trample on, he had thrown a temper tantrum.

Except his tantrums always ended in death and destruction.

“That’s the deal. He doesn’t turn up there to gloat.”

“He’s heading out to Switzerland for a week , two days from now.” Hoseok said evenly.

“Good then. My sister in law…she “ I swallowed. “ She’s in a hospital in Yongsan. I’ll send you the address.”  

“I’ll take care of it. But I want you here tonight. I’m not going to drop a couple billion won on your head without making sure I’m getting my money’s worth. And I can’t have you changing your mind and bolting either. My reputation is on the line here. If I put out the word that I’m serving something so fucking delicious and then back out, they’re not going to want to buy Hobi’s wares anymore. You understand what I’m saying darling?” Hoseok drawled and I knew exactly what he was saying. If I agreed to this, it was blanket consent for him to whatever he wanted.

“I won’t back out. I can’t. But this is one night. One night with whichever bastard you choose and that’s it. I want out.  I don’t want you or Jungkook hounding me again. Ever.” My voice shook as I dug my fingers into my knees.  

“My men will be there in ten minutes. Sit tight, princess.”

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

I stared at Hoseok as he carefully poured me a finger of whiskey, neat. He gave me a smirk and I shrugged.

“you remember.” I said casually, throat itching because it had been way too long since I’d had quality alcohol. I missed the burn,  the warmth , the numbness that followed.

“Of course I do. You could drink all of us under the table with little effort. It was spectacular.” He laughed and I leaned back against the couch, letting my head fall back.

“I was half certain that you would have a doctor around to make sure I’m a virgin.” I stared at him and he shrugged. “ Pointless. You’re twenty seven, you’ve probably had stuff up there anyway… Not like your hymen’s still going to be intact.”

I thought it was rather horrifying, that I didn’t feel nearly as mortified as I should. This was how Hoseok talked, matter of fact and open and that was why he was so popular. Anytime an important person came into the country, Hobi was the one who offered entertainment for the night. Hobi’s girls were always the prettiest, most well behaved and perfect. They were educated, knew what they were talking about and he didn’t force them into the life. They loved it, enjoyed it and it showed.

Not to say he was a saint.

Far from it.

Hoseok knew how to dine with kings in castles  but also how to wrestle with  swine in the gutter. The seedy brothels in Seoul’s back alleys were his as well, and he ruled his kingdom with an iron hand. The prostitutes there feared him, one look or word enough to silence any rebellion, any thought of escape.

He was called Hope. And yet somehow that was exactly what he denied the women under him. There was no hope here. There was only lust and power and money. You came to Hobi…. You never left .

I took the glass he offered, taking a small sip, savoring the taste.

“But you believe me. I wonder why.” I watched him closely and he scoffed.

“Between your father and Jungkook, no one ever really had the pluck to come anywhere near you  did they?”

Undisputable.

I sighed, leaning back to stare at him.

“Do you think dying hurts?” I asked softly.

It was frightening, how his entire body went stiff, eyes wide and jaw dropping.

“Elena, what the fuck-“

“Its just a question. You’ve killed people. You’ve watched them die… how do you think they feel?” I asked , curious.

“None of them wanted to die. If that’s what you’re asking.” The look in his eyes made me nervous.

I stared at him and the question was obvious. None of them wanted to die, but do you?

I didn’t.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself , oppa.  Stop looking so horrified.” I laughed. He shook his head.

“ Don’t joke about that. It’s not fucking funny.”

I sobered up, remembering with a jolt. Ah, of course.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” I said quietly.

Hoseok’s little sister had killed herself when I was seventeen. She was a year older than me and her father had lost her in a wager to a seventy year old man, known for torturing his bedmates. She had heard the news, taken a deep breath and taken a deep dive off the seventeeth floor of the condo where she lived with her mother.

I’d been engaged to Jungkook by then. And I had almost wanted it. Jungkook wasn’t old at least… twenty one to my seventeen.

“Just so you know, he’s going to find out. And he’s not going to like it.”

I shrugged. Three years is a long time to be preyed upon and now my mind was resigned to a life of being hunted. Hoseok was right. Jungkook would find out and he wouldn’t like it.

Good.

“I don’t care what he does anymore. All I care is that Jisoo and the baby are left out of whatever plans he has…. If you promise me you’ll keep them safe , I’ll cooperate.”

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

It was a baby boy.

I stared, fingers itching to hold the baby but it was impossible, the little one whisked away to the NICU right after with respiratory distress and Jisoo had gone into a seizure, eyes rolling back into her eyes.

She as alright now, resting in a VIP room with the best care money could buy. Hoseok had asked me if I was happy with the arrangements, and if I would name the boy after him.

I stared at the room, large and breezy and filled with flowers and gifts, toys and baby stuff and I knew right then that I had sealed my fate. I was going to have to go through with this. I could imagine how much Jisoo would protest when she came to her senses. The only relief was that it would take her a few days to be good enough to fight or protest. But then this would all be over and done with.

Jungkook would leave this afternoon. His flight was at three.

I would reach the club at five. The patrons would arrive at seven.

One night, I reminded myself , staring at the gentle rise and fall of Jisoo’s chest as she slept, my fingers playing with the soft skin on her wrist. The IV line went through her veins and I watched the gentle drip of it.

One night.

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

I didn’t know how auctions happened and while I’d been prepared for the worst kind of humiliation,  Hoseok assured me that he wasn’t going to make me stand naked on some podium or something.

“Generally, I would do something like that simply for the flair of it but consider this a favor ….a respite because you were, as you said, once a friend.” He gave me an even smile and I could only nod in mute relief.

I was grateful. Beyond grateful.

And what was more, he hadn’t told anyone, who I was.

That stunned me. Because wasn’t that the selling point? The murderous, greedy mob rat Gong Hyo Suk’s only daughter forced to spread her legs for one lucky stranger? If Hoseok had cashed in on that he would have made a fortune. But he hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would , whoever it was be upset if he recognized me?

I was led to a bedroom, large and tastefully decorated with silky satin sheets and dark curtains and dim lighting that lit up parts of the room and left other parts plunged in darkness. Hoseok had told me to wear whatever I wanted and I realized with a pang that he really didn’t see this as some sort of transaction. He was trying to make it as easy as possible without making any decisions for me. Offering me choices and options and some illusion of being in control.

I didn’t have anything fancy so it was just a dress shirt that I borrowed from Hoseok. I’d left the underwear off, eager to merely get the whole thing over with. I felt a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh out loud.

If Jungkook were here he really would have lost his damn mind, simply because of how little this whole thing affected me. And that was it, really. He was always desperate for a reaction.

Earlier when this whole thing had started, I’d obliged him with that. I would scream, rant and yell….launch myself at him like a wildcat, scratching at him , fists flying  and it was obscene, how much he seemed to enjoy that. He would press me up against walls and tables , fingers choking the breath out of my lung, just so he could see me struggle and push back.

He fed off from every negative reaction I offered him and it had taken me a long long time that the way to beat him was to become passive, unresponsive. I would go limp in his arms, stare at him blankly as he tried to manhandle me and that…that had pissed him off. Because that meant I wasn’t playing his game anymore.

If the prey wasn’t playing, the game wasn’t fun anymore. It was drab.

Boring.

And I knew that Jungkook kept raising the stakes, kept tightening the noose around my neck….just to bring that girl out again. The one that had wanted to put up a fight . The one that wanted to mouth off even with the muzzle of a gun pressed against her head. The one who would spit in his face in front of all his associates, even if it earned her a vicious strike of his hand across her face.

I shuddered. They weren’t memories I liked reliving.

Well, if that was who he wanted, I’d make sure he would never see her again.

The door opening made me jump and Hoseok came in , with a wide grin on his face.

“Baby…. Your guest for the night.” He said softly and I peered over his shoulders, my heart and mind grinding to a halt when I caught sight of what had to be the most breathtakingly beautiful man on the face of the planet.

I felt my heart begin to pound, fear taking over because this wasn’t okay. Not really. I was okay with old, creepy and disgusting , not able to get it up for more than ten minutes.

I wasn’t okay with someone who looked like they stepped right out of the latest issue of GQ.

Hoseok left quickly, closing the door behind him and the man stepped into the light, the brightness lighting up his perfect features even more. I felt my throat go dry, and fought the urge to get up and run. Growing up as the daughter of a mobster , I’d learned how to trust my instincts over appearances.

And right now, every single one of those instincts screamed at me that this man was absolutely dangerous.

“Well, you are beautiful. I’ll give you that. “ He said casually.

“Thank you.” I said stiltedly, watching as he tugged on his tie, pulling it off his neck deftly . Instead of tossing it aside , he wrapped it a bunch of times around his wrist over and over as he smiled at me.

“Don’t thank me yet. The only reason I like beautiful things is because of how easily they break.” He smiled.  “ I haven’t been with a virgin in a while…. I miss the screams.”

And there it was the full blown panic that came with stark terror. I crawled back on the bed, staring as he moved closer and there was no mistaking the look on his face, the harsh grip of his hand on my ankle telling me that I was going to regret every one of the choices that led me here.

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

“Hoseok wasn’t at the airport.” Jungkook observed casually, glancing at Yoongi as the latter finished cleaning his gun carefully, eyes fixed on his weapon with utmost concentration.

“He’s holding some sort of auction tonight. Some chick …” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook hummed. It was not the kind of thing he was interested in. Anonymous bids were often boring : actresses or female idols past their prime, desperate to make some money to survive. He had no interest in those but he was a little peeved that Hoseok hadn’t told him anything about it.

Hoseok was one of Jungkook’s most trusted friends. He was almost as powerfully rich as Jungkook and the only reason Jungkook reigned supreme was because Hoseok had no interest in challenging him for the throne. Hoseok was dangerous and cunning and loyal and Jungkook was grateful to have him on his side and he had hoped to see him before leaving. Just to ask him to keep an eye on Elena.

He grimaced, hating himself.

God, he couldn’t go two hours without thinking of her. It fucked with his head, the amount of space she took up inside him. Jungkook , for all his wealth and power, was driven solely by his need to prove himself. He wanted to be powerful and terrifying yes, but more than that , he wanted people to know.

He wanted people to look him in the eye and acknowledge him for what he was : the most dangerous man in the country. He liked seeing that fear, that worship, that admiration. He got off on it. He wanted it , craved it and for some reason he craved it more from her , than anyone else.

And instead of giving him what he wanted, instead of begging on her knees for mercy, instead of licking his shoes and begging for him to let her live….she ignored him. She looked at him with defiance and pride, her chin straight and her back unbending, her gaze locked right on him like she was his fucking equal….

And Jungkook, he’d taken a lot of insults. Taken more than his fair share of hits in life …..

But when she looked at him like that , like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe….

Fuck it drove him wild with fury.

It made him want to teach her a fucking lesson, to remind her that he owned her because he owned everything. To break her down, snuff out the flames of defiance that burned so bright in those ember eyes… Take her into his bed and brand her with his body. Till she was on the floor, on her knees covered in his spit and cum begging for mercy….

Because no one looked at Jeon Jungkook like that and lived to tell the tale..

“Seokjin’s here. Landed in Korea a couple of hours ago. ” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook smiled a bit at that. He loved his older brother, technically a step brother and growing up he had only saw him when he visited his mother in China. That meant a couple of months a year and now as adults,  a bit more often because Seokjin loved Jungkook and liked to visit him often.

Seokjin was a celebrity trainer, working with actors and athletes and he did a good amount of modeling as well. He was rich,  handsome and well liked and the only thing that gave away the Jeon blood in him was the fact that he was a sexual sadist.

The face of an angel with a devilish streak, he had a penchant for sadism and inflicting pain on his partners and while Jungkook didn’t particularly enjoy indulging him, he knew there were women who were into that and usually had them arranged for when Seokjin dropped by in Korea. His hyung’s visit seldom lasted more than a few weeks at a time and it was a pity that he would miss out one whole week of it .

But the issue in Switzerland was a little pressing and Jungkook had to be there in person to sort it out.

He leaned back against the seat, staring out of the window, sighing.

“An unsullied dove ….What the fuck is this shit..” Yoongi muttered and Jungkook turned, curious.

“What?”

“Hoseok’s been hyping up some new girl for the auction and Seokjin hyung’s bidding on her.”

Jungkook laughed at that.

“Jungkook…..” Yoongi’s voice is completely stunned, his eyes confused as he looks up at Jungkook.”  Its Elena.”

Jungkook’s thought process came to a grinding halt.

There’s a sound between his ears, a dull rushing sound like the wind in a storm and he can’t quite comprehend what he just heard. Even Namjoon who had been buried in his laptop , looked up then, tugging an airpod out of his ear.

“Wait…did you say Elena?” His eyes were wide , lips parted in shock. Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances, no doubt bracing themselves for the explosion that was to follow.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“Turn the fucking plane around.”

That jolted Namjoon out of his stunned stupor..

“Turn-? Jungkook what…. We’re on a fourteen hour flight-“ Namjoon began but the look on Jungkook’s face made him stop.

“DID I FUCKING STUTTER?”

Namjoon swore.

“Fucking hell… alright just calm the fuck down, Jesus…just put a fucking bullet in that girl’s head and spare us all the headache fuck…” He growled, unbuckling his seat belt and rushing to the cockpit and Yoongi groaned.

“ Let me guess you want me to get in touch with someone in Seoul and ask Hoseok to hold off on letting Seokjin near her…”

Jungkook glared at him.

“If you already know that why the fuck are you still here…” He growled and Yoongi gave him a look.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her and let us live, Jeon Jungkook.”

In love….. what the fuck….

He glared at Yoongi’s back, his asinine words making him madder. God he wanted to crush someone’s skull into dust with his bare hands.

And right now, in his head , that skull belonged to Jung fucking Hoseok.

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

 “What just happened?” I asked, frantic staring at the door as Hoseok’s men casually led a fuming Seokjin away while the man himself stared at me, looking pale as parchment.

“ Jungkook found out.” He said shortly and I felt my heart drop although I was half relieved because there had been something insane in Kim Seokjin’s gaze when he’d reached for me , a cruel glint of hunger that told me he would have hurt me really badly if Hoseok hadn’t barged into the room , frantic and worried.

He had given Seokjin a wide smile and then, “ I’m so sorry. We were waiting on her blood results and turns out she has a…. well, certain occupational disease that is very infectious.”

Seokjin’s mouth had dropped open even wider than mine.

“I thought she was a fucking virgin.” He had snapped, and I flinched at how cold and furious he had sounded.

But apparently there was a reason this whole thing had happened.

“What do you mean Jungkook knows? What does that mean?” I asked frantically, fear taking over.

“ He’s heading back here… He wants to see you.”

I felt my entire body go ice cold as I shook my head…

“No…fucking no bring Seokjin back here , he can fuck me that was the fucking deal, Hobi, please don’t../…”

“Elena , I’m so fucking sorry.. Seokjin…he’s fucked in the head…. He likes hurting his whores, likes making them bleed and he would have fucking destroyed you…”

I gaped at him horrified.

“What?!” I hissed shaking my head in disbelief.

“He’s Jungkook’ stepbrother. I’ve arranged whores for him before, I knew he was a little crazy but I’d never seen him before and I didn’t know he was the Kim Seokjin…fuck he outbid everyone and fucker looks like a fucking angel, how the fuck was I supposed to know he’s unhinged? Thankfully, I messaged Yoongi and …. Fuck… Listen… I know I paid for your sister’s surgery but you’re going to have to pay me back….”

I felt my body convulse in rebellion.

“I can’t.. You know I fucking can’t…”

“I can’t make an enemy out of Jungkook…. I can’t.” Hoseok shook his head. “ You can get out of here now if you want but I’d advise you to stay. If you run it’s only going to make Jungkook angrier.”

“WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO HIM?!!!” I screamed, feeling my composure crumble into smithereens. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE WANT FROM ME?!!”

Hoseok flinched, stepping back and holding his hands up.

“Whether I want to or not, I answer to Jungkook.  I shouldn’t have done this in the first place , I’m sorry Elena.” He shook his head and stepped back like the coward that he was and I wanted to hurt him. To shake him and ask him to fucking remember who I was. That I had nothing to do with my father’s sins . That I had been a fucking marionette in his hands, had wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“So much for being a friend…” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. But he didn’t look guilty. None of them ever did. It was like guilt didn’t exist in their world. They did what they wanted to whoever they wanted , whenever they wanted and they got away with it because that bastard’s word was law. What Jeon Jungkook wanted, he got.

“I’ll get your clothes sent in.”

I watched him leave, the door slamming shut behind him and sagged against the bed, staring at myself. What had just happened?

Was I born to endless misery and misfortune?

Couldn’t I catch a fucking break?

I’d agreed to sell myself hadn’t I? Would have even let Seokjin hurt me if that was what he wanted. Because it was one night. It was one night of this…whatever the hell this was and then freedom. That was the deal.

The door opened again and I stared as a young girl brought me a pile of my clothes neatly folded.

“Do you work here?” I said sharply.

She blinked before bowing her head.

“Yes, mistress.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t call me mistress , I’m here to get fucked, just like you. Tell me does Jungkook ever use the women here.” I demanded.

She looked trapped, glancing at the door, clearly wanting to run .

“Tell me.” I snapped and she flinched.

“I..uh..yes. Sometimes.” She said softly.

“Can you tell whoever fucks him next to kick him in the fucking balls?”

The girl bowed deeply and all but ran out and I sighed, feeling myself shaking. Jungkook was on the way here and I wanted to yell and scream and rave at him but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. I wanted to deny him the satisfaction …wanted to act all cool and composed in front of him but it was impossible…

Because I hadn’t realized just how tired I was of this whole thing, till right this moment, when the end had been in sight. I was supposed to get my two billion won pay off all the debt , give Jisoo the rest of the money and disappear. I was so tired, so tired of this life I’d gotten trapped into, slaving over for hours on end just to afford a couple of meals a day. No friends, no boyfriends, no hope of a future …..

The door banged open and I jumped, crawling back when I recognized the man who had just entered.

“Yoongi-“

“Jungkook wants to see you.” He ground out and I swallowed.

“I need to get dressed. Please just wait outside.” I said shakily.

And then the door opened further and a tall looming shadow stepped in familiar and vomit inducing.

Jungkook looked livid, piercing glinting through the dimply lit room and I stared at him. He was dressed in a tight black t shirt, he sleeves stretched thin over his biceps and the tattoos stark against his skin.

“Leave us.” He said softly and Yoongi moved away to the door leaving me alone with the devil himself. I cursed myself for not putting at least my panties on, I was naked underneath this shirt and although it was big it left nothing to the imagination.

Jungkook’s eyes raked over my form before resting on my face.

“You think you’re smart enough to outsmart me, Elena?” He whispered softly.

I swallowed.

“Send you brother back in. He can fuck me and I’ll pay you back.”

Jungkook hummed, stepping closer and grabbing my clothes from the bed, he grabbed the plain white bra and the pastel pink underwear and then to my complete and utter mortification he brought the clothing up to his face, breathing in .

“Fucking pervert!!!” I screamed, feeling the action like a physical touch and wanting to claw his eyes out and the smirk on his face told me that this was exactly what he wanted but I was too fucking gone to care.

“If you want me to be a whore, fine. I’ll be a whore. But on my terms…” I spat out and he shook his head, laughing.

“I don’t just want you to be a whore, Elena. I want everyone to know that you are one…” He dropped my clothes and moved closer, holding a hand out. “ Come here.”

I stared at the inked fingers, adorned with sterling silver rings and bracelets with the motifs of his gang. I shook my head.

“No. I’m not playing this game with you.” I turned my face away.

His hand shot out gripping my upper arm with enough strength to bruise and I screamed, agony shooting up my arm and shoulders as he dragged me off the bed and onto the floor. I landed hard, hips and elbows bruising from impact and I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’ve been to gentle with you. You’ve forgotten your fucking place.” He bent over and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to my feet so hard that it felt like my scalp had been ripped away from my skull.

“Okay…okay…Okay Jungkook..just…!!” I said softly, flinching because my pain tolerance was almost zero and Jungkook’s grip was so hard that my eyes were beginning to water now. He let me go, grabbing my panties off the floor and tossing them at me.

“I’m going to count to five. Put those on and get out.”

He walked out of the door and I stumbled a little fumbling with the fabric before quickly, slipping my legs in and yanking it up to my waist. I made to put on something else but his voice came, loud and impatient.

“Get the fuck out here.”

I walked out of the door and he was standing there next to Hoseok. I couldn’t meet either of their gazes , hating how they had so much power over my life. I stared at the floor. It was tempting to yell at them and scream but that never led anywhere.

“ I’ve asked them to stop the payment on the Hospital bill. Seeing as Elena hasn’t kept her end of the bargain.”

I felt my breath hitch at that, willing down the tears as I glared at him.

“What do you want?” I snapped. “ Tell me who you want me to fuck…. I’ll do it. Let’s get this over with so you can go back to whatever sewer you fucking climbed out of. ….”

Hoseok’s breath caught like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said and the look in his eye was a warning but I was sick of this. Sick of them all.

Jungkook turned to Hoseok with a laugh.

“You see hyung? See why I can’t let her go? If I let her scot free, everyone’s going to think I’m a pushover….that any worthless bitch can talk to me any way she wants and get away with it….” He shook his head, staring at me with a glint in his eye. “ I’m not going to choose. They are. You think you can charm your way into Hoseok’s heart and get special treatment? You think you’re ready to be a whore, Elena? Let me show you how a real whore gets treated in Hoseok’s club.”

He gripped my wrist, yanking me behind him as he stalked off down the narrow corridor that opened up into the club. I let myself get dragged out into the club dismally aware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but Hoseok’s shirt. I could feel eyes on me but I kept mine on the back of Jungkook’s head as he dragged me all the way to the front. I knew what he was going to do and at this point I was just numb.

There was no point reasoning with the devil.

I glared at him as he pointed at the stage. “ Get up there.” He whispered harshly.

I stared back at him, not moving. I saw Jungkook’s jaw clench.

“Either you go up there by yourself, with your clothes on. Or I carry you up there, after stripping you naked. What’s it going to be? ”

I glared at him, pursing my lips before climbing up using the small stair in the side. I moved to the center, right in front of the stage lights, so the rest of the room would disappear. I had no wish to see any of the bastards in the room.

“I think all of you recognize this little beauty here, don’t you?” Jungkook’s voice was cheerful, friendly even and I bit my lips, fists clenched. “ Well, if you don’t let me tell you . This is Gong Hyo Suk’s daughter. Remember that bastard? He put a hit out on my father. Killed him and my mom on the night I was supposed to be marrying his fucking daughter. A daughter who later called off the wedding, because I was too poor now, to give her the life she deserved. ”

I felt the familiar ice cold guilt in my vein. I was seventeen, I wanted to scream. I was seventeen and all I did was say what my father asked me to say, do what my father asked me to do.

“ That was nine fucking years ago… and you know what I told myself…. I told myself, that a greedy little bitch like this, doesn’t deserve shit.” He laughed. “ If money’s what she values the most, then the only thing she deserves is to be treated like the whore she is.”

“Why don’t you guys tell me, how much money you’d be willing to spend, to fuck her? Come on, Hobi’s been treating you guys so well lets help him make some money tonight… be generous. ”

I could barely hear what they were calling out but when Jungkook climbed onto the stage next to me, I jumped. Moving back instinctively, I winced when brought a forearm around my throat nearly choking me as he dragged up against his body.

“90 million won….That’s a lot.” He grinned. “ Jihan hyung….. that was you right? You’re gonna pay 90 million won for her?”

I felt my heart race, it was a lot. More than enough for the Hospital Bills, would even leave extra to get a decent apartment somewhere... I grabbed his wrist as it pressed into my throat, trying to pull his hand off me but he just wrapped his free hand around my waist, wrapping his entire body around mine and chuckling into my hair.

Jungkook pressed his head against mine and I froze, hating the close contact.

“Okay…but since I’m feeling a bit left out here…Why don’t I pitch in… 500 Won.” Jungkook said loud and clear.

I froze. An eerie silence fell over the club, laughter stilling and the clink of glasses slowing down.

What.

I struggled to get away from his but his hold tightened.

“Anyone else?” He called out. “ Come on… Not even thousand? Surely you think this one here’s worth a thousand won? Aren’t you going to outbid me?”

No one responded of course they didn’t. Jungkook’s anger was palpable and no one was going to get on his wrong side …..

“Ahh… is that it then? Bid’s going to close for 500 won then…. Hear that baby?” He whispered against my ears and I swallowed. “ 90, million won to five hundred won in a few seconds… What does that tell you?”

“It tells me you’re a fucking psychopath in love with your own voice… Get off me.” I hissed.

“No. What it tells you is that only I get to decide how much that body of yours is worth, not you. . You don’t get to go sell your fucking body behind my back for two billion won and then pay off all your debts and ride off into the sunset, that is not how this works….”

I went limp in his arms fighting tears because he never played fair. Never.

“Hear that Hoseok-ah… I win her for the night for 500 won…fair and square…. Is that alright?” He called out into the darkness and I felt the first inkling of dread begin to seep in.

“No.. No… get off me.” I hissed and he laughed, dragging me off the stage with ease. I screamed, kicking out in disbelief.

Jungkook grinned at me, before grabbing both my arms and yanking them behind me, and I whimpered, unable to move as he easily pulled me along to the door that opened into the hallway. Behind us I heard Hoseok’s voice.

“Jungkook, don’t be impulsive. Think about whatever you’re going to do.”

I flinched at that, panic building.

“He’s not going to do anything. I’ll fucking kill him if he touches me , I-“

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch.” He shook me hard till my teeth rattled and I sobbed out.

“Jungkook…” Hoseok warned but he merely snarled.

“I know what I’m doing hyung, just…. Don’t disturb us. And make sure everyone here knows that she’s open for business.” It was loud enough to carry through the club and I felt humiliation burn my throat, acrid like acid.

I froze in disbelief.

“Jungkook …” Hoseok’s voice held a tone of reproach.

“ And tell them that her body is amazing. Tell them she spent the night with me , the best fuck I’ve ever had , mouth made for cock.”

I stared straight ahead as he pulled me all the way to the room we had left earlier and I tripped when he shoved me inside, landing on my hands and knees . I quickly rolled back around to land on my ass, crawling back as he slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

He stared down at me, mouth grim.

“You do owe me a wedding night. I was so ready to fuck your tight cunt, nine years ago… I think I’ve waited long enough yeah.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do, to yell and scream and protest and fight so he could get off and forcing me…. Fucking psychopath.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“If you pay for my sister in laws bills, and give me an apartment sure. “ I shrugged. “You’re not any different from any of the bastards here. I don’t give a damn which one of you idiots wants to rut into me like the absolute animal that you are…. I don’t care…” I said softly.

“you don’t? Really? You want me to tell you what your brother said when one of my men put a gun into his mouth…. He begged for his life…said he had a kid on the way….” Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “I told him it was better than what his father did…. My sister was six months pregnant when his lieutenant gunned her down on the streets.”

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Why are you telling me this…” I snapped.

“Because she didn’t deserve it did she, Elena? She didn’t fucking deserve to die like that , like a dog on the street when she had nothing to do with any of this…. She didn’t deserve it.” He growled, bending down and gripping my chin hard.

“Maybe she did deserve it.” I spat out. “ If I deserve to be here, maybe your sister deserved to die too. “

He snarled, hand flying to my hair and dragging me up off the floor in one sharp yank. I whimpered as he pushed me on the bed, before climbing on top of me. I felt like every bone in my body was about to snap in two, the weight of him unbearable on me.

“I won the bid tonight…. I won it fair and square… You signed the waiver didn’t you…that you agreed to the auction…I won and I’m going to fucking collect.” He growled, and I kicked out, trying to buck him off of my body.

“Get off me.” I hissed. “ I’m not letting you fuck me for 500 won.”

“How about for your Jisoo then?” He whispered and I went still.

“What?”

He chuckled, reaching down and I felt my pulse pound as he pulled his phone out, dialing quickly and turning on the speakers.

Yoongi’s voice made me go ice cold. Everyone knew what Yoongi did for Jungkook.

“Daehwan’s wife is in a hospital room in Yongsan. Hobi’s got the details. I think she’s served her purpose.”

“No!! JUNGKOOK NO!!” I  screamed , thrashing so hard my head began to spin but he grunted pressing down into me harder.

“Are you serious? I’m not home yet… I can take care of it tonight.” Yoongi said, voice casual and I sobbed, shaking my head in sheer terror.

“Okay… I’ll behave.. I promise.. please just don’t…”

Jungkook hummed.

“Well, that was easy… Yoongi-yah… why don’t you stay on the phone yeah…. Going to get that wedding night I’m owed and if my baby doesn’t co operate you know what to do, yeah?”  

I bit my lips, glaring into the sheets as he gripped my waist, pulling me up.

“Ass up like the bitch that you are, baby.” He whispered and I felt my entire body shudder in disgust. It was worse because I hadn’t done this before. Didn’t know what to expect. But I couldn’t let him know that. If Jungkook knew that I was a virgin, I could just imagine how much fun he’d have with that info.

Hands gripped my wrists, pinning them to the bed and I turned my face away when I felt the press of his lips on my cheeks. He gripped both my wrists with one hand, keeping them pinned over my head and I flinched when I felt his fingers pulling the fabric of my panties aside, just enough for the blunt head of his cock to press against my slit.

“Yoongi, you there?” Jungkook said softly and Yoongi grunted over the phone. I felt my face flame in embarrassment.

“You’re a sick bastard but I’m used to it. What’s up?” he said casually.

“Remember how we used to wonder just how tight Elena’s cunt was… back when we were in school.”

Fucking monster, I thought in disbelief. I hate him I hate him I hate him….

“Good times…” Yoongi chuckled lightly .

Jungkook pushed into me in one hard thrust and pain shot straight up my spine, my insides burning like he’d fucked me with a knife and not his body. I couldn’t stop the cry of agony that got torn of me, my eyes tearing up and tears spilling over onto my cheeks.

“Damn Jungkook, she okay?” Yoongi’s chuckle made me want to claw his face off, and just the urge to kill was growing inside me.

“Well, I can confirm that it is, in fact just as tight as we thought…” He grunted, thrusting into me at a pace that was inhumane, every push and drag of him rubbing my insides raw and I bit down on the sheets under me, afraid that I would do something absolutely humiliating, like beg him to stop.

“Good, you should let me take that tight ass for a ride someday then. With her permission of course…. I’m a gentleman after all. Big on consent.” He laughed and I swallowed the urge to tell him that I would puncture his balls with a switchblade if he came anywhere near me.  

“Oh, she’s going to do whatever I ask her to….aren’t you baby…” He grunted, “ Turn around so I can see you.”

He pulled out of me, his weight lifting off my body as he moved away. I couldn’t move, limbs numb and insides throbbing in pain . His palm landed on my thigh, hard and the sharp sting of it made me jump.

“I said turn around, I want to see your face when I fuck you.” Jungkook growled. I stayed limp, breathing hard and he grunted impatient, fingers sinking into my hair , yanking me to my knees and the movement made my legs scream in protest.

“How’s she so quiet? You fucked the voice out of her, kook-ah?” Yoongi asked amused and Jungkook pulled me by the hair, dragging me to the center and pushing me down till my head landed on the pillow.

“Hyung you should see her right now, all fucked out …. Like she’s never had a dick in her before.” He shook his head, “ Fucking slut. Take that off and hold yourself open for me.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending and he grabbed both my hands, placing them on my knees.

“Grab your knees and pull your legs back… So I can fuck that tight cunt the way I want to.” He said slowly, like I was a dog he was trying to train and I stared at him , defiantly.

“ Go to hell.” I whispered.

Yoongi’s laughter came from somewhere to the right.

“Your dirty talk needs work, Kook ah… Tell her she’s a precious little kitten and she makes you feel really good…. Bitches love that shit…”

Jungkook hovered over me, grabbing the back of my thighs and spreading them wide enough to make me whimper in pain.

“Is that so babygirl? You want me to tell you that? That you make daddy’s cock feel good?” He cooed, nudging the tip against me again and I had never hated anyone so much in my life. I stared up at his face, and he smiled at me, a cheeky little grin that made his bunny teeth stand out and for a second he looked so deceptively angelic and the glimmer of his piercing caught my eye.

I couldn’t help but swallow, gaze trained on the glint of metal on his tongue.

“You like that?” He grinned suddenly, sticking his tongue out for me to see, I felt my eyes widen at how sinfully good he looked .” Hyung she likes my tongue piercing.”

“Show her how it feels on her clit.” Yoongi laughed and I could barely fully process what I heard before Jungkook was crawling down my body, arms, curling on my thighs and yanking me onto his tongue .

I felt the press of his tongue on my slit, licking right into me and the jolt of pleasure was so unexpected, the pleasure so unwanted and yet so overwhelming and I couldn’t stop the way my body thrashed against the streets, lips parted as I practically mewled out in pleasure.

“Definitely a kitten…” Yoongi called out and I shuddered as Jungkook slipped two fingers into me , the ice cold press of his ring inside me making me jump. I wanted to pull away, grab his hair and yank him off but I couldn’t because it was

“Next time I’ll put the dick piercing in too, yeah? Fuck you with a bit of metal on my cock so you can feel that up there…. ” He laughed into my thighs and I screamed when he bit into the flesh there , hard.

“I’m getting bored… Either turn on facetime so I can at least jerk off to this , or I’m hanging up…” Yoongi called out .

“Hyung she clenches down on me every time she hears your voice… Just stay on for a few more minutes yeah, she tastes so fucking good, I’m gonna cum soon….” Jungkook added another finger, slipping in deep before spreading them apart inside me. I whimpered when he pushed his tongue in between the wet digits, licking into my walls and I could feel the ball of his piercing drag against my walls, ice cold and hard.

Was it fucked up that I did clench down on him again, my body apparently a slave to my base desires even as my mind screamed that he was the absolute worst bastard on the face of the planet.

“Elena, you owe me a blowjob at least for this…” Yoongi called out and I glared at the phone.

“I’ll bite your fucking dick off if you come anywhere near me.” I snapped.

“Fuck, I could get off just to that mouthy fuckhole of hers…..” Yoongi grunted.

Jungkook pulled away, climbing back up over me and lightly slapping my breasts.

“Now, how about you open that mouth and let me fuck it?”

Yoongi snorted from behind us and Jungkook glared at the phone before glaring at me again.

“Well?”

“You want to know how hard I can bite?” I said sharply, the pleasure ebbing away into nothing and resentment taking it place, the momentarily physicality of the situation fading and the reminder of who he was and who I was entering my sex addled brain.

“No.. You’re right…. But you know what, I’m not feeling it anymore. I was right.. you really aren’t qualified to be my whore. Your body…it’s frigid like a fucking popsicle…such a fucking turn off. ” He reached over and hung up on the phone.

“Now…”he whispered, leaning in closer and I yelped, when his fingers closed over my throat..” Shut your mouth and take what I give you like a grateful bitch.”

I swallowed when he pushed into me again, his pace steady as he fucked into me, eyes closed and I realized that he was almost fully dressed having just unbuttoned himself enough to get his cock out.

When he stiffened, spilling into me his eyes blew open and he locked eyes with me, wide eyed and for one horrible second he looked young and vulnerable and hurt.

I blinked as he pulled out, the sticky warm mess of his cum dripping down my inner thighs and onto the sheets.

“Well, that was much worse than I thought it would be.”  He said and I stayed on the bed as he grabbed his phone and buttoned himself back up.

He smirked at me and then reached into his pocket.

I quickly pulled myself together, ignoring the aches and pains and getting to my knees before reaching for my dress on the bed. it was kind of pointless because I still had Hoseok’s shirt on and I wasn’t going to take that off in front of Jungkook.

“Well, I’m a man of my word , Elena so…here you go..just as we discussed.” He tossed a coin on the bed and I stared at the engraved 500 on the shiny surface, feeling my rage swell inside me.

“If you still want to work out a payment plan for your sister’s bills …. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow?” He tossed his card on the bed before  moving away to the door.

Fucking bastard.

Author’s note : My whole life is filled with regrets . 

[winter-soldier-vibes]

Can I request HSP + depression reader (who thinks they are just weak and being crybaby) x Bucky, please? I understand you are super busy right now and I didn’t mean to rush you or anything but I'm just struggling with both HSP and depression and couldn’t help but send it right now. No need to hurry, just when you are free and maybe when you had nothing to write. Thank you and I love you!

Thank you for the request, I’m sorry it’s been a difficult time for you! I’m here if you need me and I hope that this helps!!! 

It’s called empathy

Bucky x reader

Word count: 1981

Warnings: depression, HSP (highly sensitive person), low self worth, negative self talk, swearing (that’s normal for me but this one’s a little extra), angst (more so internal idk if that needs a warning), fluff/comfort

Taglist: @buckys2thicc @babydaddy-buckybarnes @barnesplums @peggycarter-steverogers @mardema @abitgryffindorky @buckys-blue-eyes @strawberrimae @thatfangirl42 @freigeistundanderes @bucks-bunny @broadwaybabe18 @im-sick-of-failing

Taglist     Masterlist

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

Breathe in

Breathe out

In 

Out 

...in…

You felt a tear escape your eyes

Goddamn it

You didn’t want to cry, you couldn’t let yourself. It was stupid, it was just some shitty remark from someone when they were in a shitty mood, it wasn’t your fault, all that bullshit you tried to tell yourself. It never worked.

You were trying to control your breathing, looking up at the ceiling trying to will the tears away, biting your lip. You would not cry, not over this. Not over something that wasn’t worth your tears

Not when you didn’t even know what exactly you were crying over. 

Yet here you were, gripping the edge of the bathroom sink with white knuckles, looking up at the ceiling trying to keep the tears at bay. And it wasn’t working.

Weak sensitive piece of shit. 

What good were you to the team if you cry in the bathroom like a baby every time something remotely stressful happens? People usually cry when they're in pain or when they’re grieving - the only excuse you had was you were stressed or sad. 

You felt another few tears escape and you angrily swiped them away, cursing yourself for being so weak. 

You hated this, you hated yourself. You were so numb most of the time, especially when you were alone. You found yourself alone in your room with racing thoughts feeling like you were falling apart. Yet when you were alone you could only stare at the ceiling wondering if it would get any worse. 

The answer was usually yes.

Whenever you would go on missions with the team, you were able to push aside your stress. You had a job to do and you would do it. But when the mission was over and you were walking back through the rubble - seeing all the blood, destruction, fear - then it would start to get to you. You would panic, you would feel tears cloud your vision. Tears for those you were leaving behind, and those who had nowhere to go, those who lost someone. That was understandable. 

It seemed to affect you more than the others though. It was understandable to be moved by so much destruction. But for you everyone felt like someone you had known and loved. 

You could feel the grief in those left behind, feel the sadness and pain that they were going through. 

The same was true when you weren’t on missions. When those who were on them would come back. Whether they were injured or their eyes were saddened - you knew when a mission was rough. You would listen, you would be there for people. It was easy to talk to you, and you were very wise. 

But it still overwhelmed you. You couldn’t say no, you didn’t want to. You wanted to help but it would be so emotionally taxing for you. So behind closed doors, you would break. Be there for others, listen when they need to talk, others come first - you took their emotional pain onto yourself. 

You were grateful that you could help - but in the process it was hurting you. 

You allowed yourself to feel sad when you were alone in your room. No one could see you be weak in the dark of your room. But you never cried much just from the pure exhaustion of your thoughts. Sometimes you wanted to, just feeling so incredibly empty that you just wanted to have an ugly crying session curled up in bed.

But you didn’t get to make that choice.

The crying wouldn’t come until the absolute worst times. If you had messed up on a mission, if Tony said something a little too harshly because to him everything was a joke, seeing something gruesome on a mission- whenever it came to someone else getting involved, the tears would come. Hell sometimes even being overwhelmed in public would be enough to start the waterworks. 

You always felt so fucking weak for it. The slightest environmental stressor could stress you out too much and move you to tears. You had no reason to be upset most of the time. But you would get angry at yourself for being upset, which would make you more upset that you couldn’t control it, making it harder to control.

It was a vicious cycle.

Lately it had been popping up more and more recently. Smaller things were upsetting you more than usual. You were becoming more sensitive to external stimuli and as a result, you spent as much time as you could in your room. You were embarrassed by yourself. Both by your emotions and by your inability to control them. 

This time you were just upset that you were upset. It had been a long night the day prior, just a lot of paperwork to do. There had been a mission earlier this week that you hadn’t been assigned to, but it had been brutal for everyone who had gone. So far today had been a normal day by anyone’s terms, an emotionally exhausting one for you. One of those where you woke up tired and the thoughts of another day were enough to draw you to tears. Nothing had even happened, but apparently nothing needed to happen. 

Your emotions came and went without your consent. 

You knew deep down it was probably some sort of emotional build up - that whole quote about bottling things up until they got to be too much - it happened every time but you still thought you could handle yourself better than that. You didn’t want to vent or be a problem to anyone. But when you are the emotional support for most of the team and you haven’t been able to get enough sleep or take time for yourself - you didn’t have much of a say as to when the bottle overflows.

A few more tears fell and you slammed your hand on the counter, wiping your tears angrily once more. “God fucking damn it why can’t you just stop fucking crying!” you exclaimed, feeling a few more tears falling “Weak piece of shit!” 

There was knocking on the door, pulling you out of your self deprecating thoughts. You gasped lightly, wiping your face again. 

Knock knock

You jumped a little, gasping slightly. No one was supposed to be here, it was the middle of the night. 

“Y/n? What’s going on in there? Are you alright?”

You took a shaky breath. Of course it would be Bucky who heard you. Why would it be anyone else?

“I’m fine Bucky, it’s late, you should go to sleep.”

“Then why are you still awake?” Bucky responded. You heard him sigh a little outside the door. “Come out here and tell me you’re okay.”

“Really Bucky?”

“Unless you want me to come in there, but I don’t think Stark would appreciate me breaking your door.”

You took a small breath and walked over to the door, opening it. You crossed your arms and met Bucky’s concerned eyes. “I’m fine, Bucky.”

Bucky sighed, taking in your appearance. Red eyes, flushed face, your hair was messy - you were definitely crying. He hated when you wouldn’t admit that you weren’t ok. “You know you don’t have to be, right?”

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep fresh tears from clouding your vision. “What?”

“You say you’re fine, you always say that you’re fine until you break. I heard you crying, I can see that you’re not feeling okay yet still you try to keep a brave face. And I just want you to know that you don’t have to always be okay.”

You let out a breath. “I - i…” you looked down and shook your head, lost for words. 

“Y/n, I’m not here to judge you. Can you try to tell me what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you said looking up at him “It’s literally so stupid, Bucky.”

“Y/n, nothing you say right now is going to sound stupid. 

You shrugged your shoulders, still not quite meeting his eyes. “I don’t know, I just get so worked up sometimes, but it’s stupid. I tell myself I’m not going to be bothered and then I freak out again. The smallest things bother me and I get stressed out and then I cry like some stupid weak bitch. People have it worse than me, God, you have it worse than me. Everyone here has some sort of traumatic awful thing happen to them and then there’s me and I get sad because I see other people sad,” you were crying again and you wiped at your face, covering your eyes. “God Im so fucking stupid I -”

Bucky pulled you into his chest as you let out a sob. “You’re not stupid, y/n.”

“YES I AM. I get worked up over the smallest shit, I don’t listen when people tell me to take breaks, I take everything too personally and I can’t stop fucking crying when I don’t even know what the fuck is wrong!” you exclaimed, trying to push yourself away, ashamed.

Bucky held you tightly, not letting you go. “That’s not your fault. It’s not up to you how your feelings show up.”

“But I cry at the most stupid shit and I can’t control it.”

“You’re not supposed to know how to control it,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “Emotions can’t be controlled. They just happen and it’s rarely convenient.”

“Then why do I feel so weak? If this,” you gestured to yourself “is so goddamn normal then why isn’t everyone else breaking down every other day?” 

Bucky brushed some hair out of your face. “Your emotions are yours, no one else’s. No one has the right to tell you how to feel. Think of it this way - you can’t expect everyone to have the same amount of strength or stamina - no one has the same emotional response either. And that doesn’t make you weak, it makes you you.”

You shook your head. “I just feel so weak all the time.” 

“And I’m here to remind you that crying isn’t weak. You are not a weak person, you are not a bad person, you’re not any of those things your mind tells you. You’re a kind and thoughtful person. You put your heart into everything you do. You help everyone you can. Mourning someone else’s loss isn’t weakness. It’s called empathy.”

You took a small breath. “Then why does it hurt so goddamn much?”

“”I don’t know. And I can’t say for certain that you won’t always feel that way. But I know I can tell you that you aren’t weak, and I’ll be here every time you feel that you are.” 

You nodded your head slightly. “You don’t think I’m weak?” you asked quietly.

He pulled you back into a hug. “Not in the slightest, y/n.”