#like they spend acts 1 & 2 kind of in denial about having lost anything

[quantumfeat72]

(continuation of this!)

[axxio-sriracha]

The Seven Stages of James Potter Falling in Love with his Best Friend's Brother.

~~~♤~~~

Stage 1: Oblivious.

James is oblivious to his feelings for Reg.

He goes about his day as though nothing's changed, because for him it really hasn't.

If you look close enough though, you'll see the slight shift in James' posture, always subtly tilted in Regulus' direction.

Or the way he stares a fraction of a second too long, but mostly when he's lost in thought, so it really doesn't mean much.

James now talks a bit more animatedly around Regulus, he'd always been kinda nervous talking to him, afraid of scaring him off. But they've gotten a bit closer and James can't wait to get to know him better.

James and Regulus are becoming good friends, and James seems overjoyed by that fact.

~~~♤~~~

Stage 2: Denial.

James realises that maybe he has been acting a bit different towards Reg recently, but he doesn't see anything wrong with that.

They started bonding over Sirius, over what it's like being a brother to him. Surely that's not a negative thing?

James doesn't think it's bad they've gotten closer, or that they'll stay up late into the night on the astronomy tower so Reg could show him constellations and they could talk about their favorite things.

They were just trying to get along, just like Sirius hoped they would.

So what if he started sitting a little closer to him than everyone else? It was just easier to talk that way, that's all.

And yes, it's completely normal to be fascinated by the way your best friend's brother's eyes catch the sunlight and turn the most beautiful color you've ever seen.

But James has always loved the color of people's eyes, he probably gave Remus more compliments on his eyes than anything else.

Maybe James looks to him automatically every time they're laughing in a group.

And maybe that's because he spends the majority of his time waiting to hear that laugh again.

But who doesn't? His laugh is contagious, it brightens up the room instantly. Of course James would be excited to hear it. That's totally normal.

Yeah, James ditched quidditch practice, (something he had never, ever, done before) to hang out with him. But that's only because they hadn't talked at all that day, it would have been rude not to.

James and Reg are closer than ever, and there's no reason at all James should be worried about that, right?

~~~♤~~~~

Stage 3: Avoidance.

James started liking Reg a little too much, and the thought terrifies him.

He decides to keep his distance a little, wait for his feelings to sort themselves out. He could go without talking to Regulus every minute of the day, couldn't he?

Whenever Reg would go to sit next to him James would panic, muttering something about an essay due later that week and jumping up from the couch.

Every casual touch sent shocks through him, it got to the point where James would stay at least a meter away at all times.

Sure, the distance was a little awkward, and Regulus' expression when he'd jerked away from his touch felt like a knife to his chest, but it was for the best, wasn't it?

James was way too interested, and he knew he shouldn't care as much as he did.

~~~♤~~~

Stage 4: Anger.

James gave up avoiding him, he couldn't live in a world without Reg, but that doesn't mean he wasn't angry about it.

He should have never developed feelings in the first place. This was Sirius' brother. That is against so many rules.

He hated himself, spiraling in guilt and rage and all things torment.

It made it worse that Reg was always there to comfort him.

And even more so that he desperately needed it.

James and Reg could never be together, he was furious with himself for ever falling for him.

~~~♤~~~

Stage 5: Depression.

After a while, he lost the energy to be angry anymore. He was so sad. He didn't want to have to fight his feelings for Regulus, he wished something was different, anything.

Regulus was so kind to him, showing a softer side of himself nobody else got to see. It made James' heart skip a beat, the way he touched James' cheek, reminding him to breathe.

James laid awake most nights crying, he wanted to be with him so badly it physically hurt. But he knew he could never betray Sirius like that.

So every touch was like a knife to his chest, every calming whisper an open wound. Regulus was dangerous to be around, but James would take the pain a hundred times over before he ever left.

James and Reg can never be together, the thought broke James' heart a little each time.

~~~♤~~~

Stage 6: Acceptance.

James was in love with Regulus. It was a fact, as simple as that.

He loved him with every piece of his soul, he knew they could never be together, knew that it would take moving mountains and earth itself to get Reg to ever like him back, but he didn't have a choice.

He was unwillingly, unrequitedly, and so impossibly in love with Regulus, and nothing was going to change that.

The touches weren't so painful anymore, they were a part of his day just as much as breathing was, he laughed louder than he ever had, smiled brighter, looked deeper, it was Reg. Reg made him whole, made him alive.

So he could never be with him, so he would always be the background in Reg's story, he could be okay with that as long as he was near.

James knows they can never be together, knows Reg will never like him back, but he can't help falling for him anyways.

~~~♤~~~

Stage 7: Love.

By a miracle James will never fathom, Regulus told him he loved him. Like... he loved him.

Regulus confessed his feelings as they lay on their blankets in the astronomy tower, watching the stars twinkle in the night sky.

James felt so many things at once, hope, fear, excitement, confusion. He was terrified, terrified of what that meant for them. He was so, so happy, happy that he lived in a world where Reg loved him too.

They started dating in secret, they snuck off to that tower every night, holding each other under those same stars. James found his hand fit perfectly in Regulus', and Regulus' head fit perfectly in the little space between his neck and shoulder.

They were made for each other, in every way physically possible they were so entirely perfect.

James knew he needed to tell Sirius, not only out of the guilt, but because he was so happy, and Sirius was always the one he went to first with good news.

Reg and James made promises of forever underneath those stars, and neither of them could ever imagine spending their life any other way.

James and Regulus are madly in love and there is nothing anyone can do about it.

And, if James is being honest, he's never been happier.

~~~♤~~~

[itsnothingofinterest]

I’ve often said that it seems like a lot of the main pros below All Might seem to end up representing serious flaws in hero society; specifically the ones on the hero side of things. So as a fun little exercise I thought I’d go over all those main pros and what flaws they represent (should be easy, they’re usually their own personal character flaws). Maybe also give my assessment to what I think their chances of living to the end of the series are while I’m at it, since representing serious flaws in the old guard can be hazardous to your health if treated poorly.

Endeavor

A man who needs no introduction if you’re any kind of HeroAca fan. love or hate him, everyone knows the new no.1.

Funnily enough, he’s actually the main exception to the rule we mentioned before about a pros’ character flaw being the flaw they thematically represent. See, his character flaw is that he focus so much on heroics, his career in heroics, or just his own general needs over his family; to the point that he only had a family to have children he could live vicariously though, and felt no obligation to love the ones he couldn’t live through. What he represents, is actually two-fold: 1) the toxicity of the ranking system which makes heroics so competitive and encourage heroes focus on some arbitrary number, and 2) the power heroes have that let them do horrible things and get away with it. They’re connected concepts, for sure, but not exactly synonymous.

And with that said, what are his chances of survival? Well, the ranking toxicity is out of his hands, but besides that...it can be hard to tell. He has, under semi-aggressive guidance of his family, publicly taken responsibility for the things he’s done and vowed to make up for it; which helps his chances considerably. But in that same scene he also said that the only way he can atone is to keep doing what he’s always done; beat up villains and at least 1 family member. It sends a mixed message. But in general; I want to say that he’s gotten enough development that he doesn’t feel set to fail his arc now. I’d be tempted to say his chances look pretty good...were it not for all the separate reasons I think he’s likely to die anyway. Oh well, no one’s situation can be perfect.

Hawks

The controversial hero; Hawks!

I’ve summarized Hawks’ main flaw before as ‘hubris’, partially because he’s an Icarus figure so generalizing it like that feels clever, but it’s a bit more complex than that. Hawks main flaw isn’t so much pride as it is self-righteousness. Hawks represents the belief that everything is just right as it is, and the status quo must therefore be protected at all costs. A denial that the heroes he believes in have done anything wrong even after staring their mistakes in the face and spending months talking with those the heroes failed. In fact to contrast Endeavor’s line to the press; Hawks tried to excuse what he did as though it had to be done. That’s the opposite of promising.

With that said, what are his chances of survival? Well, I’d actually put him at 50/50 odds; since I see 2 endings for him, and it’s too early to tell which is more likely. See, while we’ve only got two instances of a “pattern,” Hawks seems like a guy who falls to the ground, recovers and gets back up, only to fall even further down because he never learns. So his two futures are either: A) To actually learn. Take a fall so hard that in the aftermath, he can’t convince himself he was right all along. Maybe he gets Endeavor killed, or does something to sever their relationship. Something that’d force him to self-reflect. B) To take a fall so hard it proves fatal; his mistakes catching up to him in a way that doesn’t give him a chance to self-reflect.

Best Jeanist

Sir Long Neck McImagine Obsession himself.

Best Jeanist represents the self-interest in hero society can have over justice itself. Already known for being focused on superficial image; he’s dramatic reappearance revealed just how deep that went. For when it’s revealed by a villain that a hero has committed great crimes that ended up motivating that villain’s actions; Jeanist’s immediate concern was the damage this would do to the reputation of heroes. More than what kind of person he’s been working alongside, and even more than saving lives, Jeanist’s first thought went the wellbeing of the industry he works in and how bad they would collectively look to the public; that’s what he’s most angry at Dabi for.

Chances of survival are...maybe 40-50%? There’s no real leaning one way or another frankly, so that kind of feels like it’d put him at even odds for the exact opposite reason as Hawks. Will he live? Will he die? Who can say? Leaning just a bit towards death though, because again, representing flaws in the old guard can be hazardous to your health.

Mirko

And here we have the violent one.

While I’m tempted to lump this one with Hawks, I actually think Ms.Mirko represents the heroes use of incredible violence best. See, Mirko is someone who really likes to beat people up, even once in a spin-off said Bakugou’s drive to murder was a good thing in a hero. And while she won’t even feel the need to kill like Hawks apparently did, her response to fighting the High End Nomu was something like “finally, some villains I get to just kill with no ethical issues, that makes things easy”. (Which, considering the High Ends are sentient is, um, hmm). Her love of violence borders on villainous, and she freely admits it is simple obligation that prevents her from crossing that boundary. It’s reminiscent of when Shigaraki pondered what the difference really was between heroes’ & villains’ violence. And, well, if it closes the gap in morality between heroes and villains, it’s going on this list.

Regarding her chances of survival, like Jeanist she’s not exactly defined enough to really say anything for sure or end up on any extreme end; I’ve no real reason to think she’s very likely live or die. That said; on the one hand she seems a bit more eagerly reveling in the flaw she represents, plus a blood knight getting back into the fight after sustaining heavy injuries is never a good sign. On the other hand, Horikoshi clearly likes her for reasons we won’t address here. I think I’m gonna average it out to 50%. Maybe even 60%.

Kamui Woods & Mt. Lady

You wouldn’t think some of the most plain as bread heroes would be joining the ranks of the problematic, and in fairness that’s because they mostly aren’t, but they are the ones who best represent a serious issues with heroes. They represent the way heroes will focus on flashiness & the problems they cause/exasperate in the process. Misconduct performed in the quest for fame; in so many words. Kamui showed this in chapter 1; calling a giant purse snatcher “evil incarnate” because that villain was attention grabbing and disturbing the peace. This is especially noticeable in hindsight, after we’ve see some real problems heroes could be dealing with but aren’t; like lost children on their way to becoming villains. And Mt. Lady represent it by how she operates in a big city despite her powers really working better for more rural or neighborly environments; because city work makes her more popular and rakes in the cash (that she loses paying for repairs).

That said, even if those are flaws I feel are highly associated with them, none of that is stuff they’re actively involved in; they’re naïve at best, and have already improved considerably (for minor characters at least) into better heroes. Frankly speaking, their changes of survival are probably averaging at 85% (80% for Kamui, 90% for Mt.). Like, they’re not gag characters per se; but they’re not super serious characters, they’re not connected to the MCs in any real way, and they don’t knowingly contribute to any of society’s corruptions. Really, so long as big H doesn’t really want to off someone we know for a shock, they’re probably fine.

Gran Torino

And lastly, the only non-big shot on the list, the unpleasant old geezer himself; Gran Torino!

What GT represents better than any other, I think, is the idea of passing any blame a hero may have for the actions/very existence of a villain on to the villain in question, thus allowing the heroes to better absolve themselves. You know like how with Shigaraki, he ignores any fault he has with that guys’ existence and simplifies him down to a criminals they can only beat down; and how dare he exist and thereby hurt Toshinori’s feelings. On that note, I’d say he also represents the idea that the villains are what they are, they’re too far gone, and there’s nothing the heroes can do about it. The most convenient excuse to not ever have to try to make up for what they did wrong, which you can’t even blame them too much for because they “tried their best” (even if they really didn’t).

So, what are his odds? Well frankly I wanna put him at 0% just cause he’s so old that if a villain doesn’t get him, time will. But that’s cheating. In actuality, it’s hard to say; dude’s a stubborn old man, and it really feels like it will depend on his ability to admit how wrong he handled things regarding Tomura. Now admittedly, he did admit to making the wrong choice in handling Kotaro, but he’s said nothing of Tomura so far. For now I’ll put him at 30%, but we’ll have to see if he sticks to his guns regarding current events next time he talks with All Might or whoever to really get a gasp on his chances.

And that’s about all the big ones so we’ll wrap it up. Anyway the point is it feels like a lot of heroes are gonna need to get their acts together lest they risk coming down with Not Alive Syndrome sometime in the future.

[oftenderweapons]

Apple Of My Pie (7) — Jin

A Small Town Swoons story 

Chapter 7. 

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Buttercup)

Wordcount: 7.1k words

Genre: non-idol!AU, Baker/Café owner!Seokjin, University student!reader Flatmates!AU, Friends To Lovers, Fluff, slightest angst, smut

Rating: 18+ (NSFW content)

A/N: Hello my sweet poppies! Welcome to the Small Town Swoon Universe! 🥰✨

In this episode: Jin and Buttercup finally reunite, and although the real world tries to interrupt their small idyll, Seokjin has the strength to finally impose his needs and confess his feelings. The evening proceeds in the best of ways.

As I mentioned before, this episode made me write things I didn’t know I had in me. Also, this will be the final episode for their storyline, however you will see more of Jin and Buttercup on future stories, mostly in small apparitions here and there. I might come back to this story someday, maybe with some drabbles or some small headcanons, however, I think that now it’s time to let Jin and Buttercup live their special moments with in their own privacy and make up for lost time.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: this is filthy. There’s swearing and light alcohol consumption (wine at dinner, both are pretty sober afterwards). Now, about the filth. Degradation kink, breast worship (involves kissing, licking, biting, grabbing), breast slapping, nipple pinching, one (1) spank, foodplay involving ice cream (so mild temperature play), dom!Seokjin, slightly bratty!reader, grinding, masturbation (both male and female receiving), brief mention of oral (male receiving), cumplay, cumeating, creampie, unprotected sex (please don’t do like them. The right way to go about this would be to use condoms and/or dental dams until you and your partner get the results of the test and are 110% sure you’re clean. If you have any questions, please head to Planned Parenthood’s website, they have wonderful webpages about safe, sane and consensual sex, plus anything you need to keep your sexual health in check. If you can’t check their website, please feel welcome to reach out to me through DMs, I’ll try to help 🥰💜). Also reader is kind of excited about Seokjin being circumcised? And these two have a latent impregnation kink that will show up someday. There are slightly angst discussion about past partners and feelings, but nothing extreme.

Remember to vote for next prompt (check the link in my bio) and in case you need it, here’s my masterlist 💜

In case you need it, here is the music companion

Enjoy ✨💜

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

Seokjin woke up with the ringing of a phone.

He appreciated the warmth and weight next to him, half on top of him.

He looked at you. He allowed himself to do that only for a couple seconds.

Your phone was ringing, and he needed to pick it up before it woke you.

Your face had been so scared and tired when he first saw it at the front door.

He stood and picked up the call just in time.

“Oh, thank God, Buttercup where are you?” Jeongguk’s voice came from the phone.

“It’s Seokjin. She’s with me, at the apartment. She’s sleeping.” He replied, his voice gravelly after being under the cold rain and sleeping for almost two hours.

“She’s with you?”

“Yes, she’s here. She’s sleeping.” Seokjin repeated.

“Kim Seokjin. I am going to kill you!” Yoongi said, stealing the phone from Jeongguk. “We were all looking for her. Poor Jeongguk was in a panic. Are you stupid? Outright dumb? What is it, both your two miserable neurons decided to throw a strike today? Did they accidentally crash and perish? Did they finally decide to end their suffering?”

“Yoongi. Stop,” said Spice from a distance. “She’s safe, stop acting like an overprotective parent.”

“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Yoongi asked.

“No. I found her here, taking her stuff away.” Seokjin said, his body tensing at the thought. “Is she leaving? What is going on?”

“She’s going to the cottage with Namjoon. They’re leaving on Monday.”

Seokjin rolled his shoulders before exhaling. “How has she been in the last few weeks?”

“A mess. Sad, miserable. And it’s your fault.” Yoongi spoke with vitriolic hostility in his voice.

“I’m gonna fix it, Yoongi. I promise.” Seokjin said, his voice extremely emotional as he looked at you. Your eyes were open and you had the tiniest smile on.

“Are you gonna talk to her? Actually confess? Tell her you love her and be done with all the insecure, selfish bullshit?”

“I’m gonna talk to her.” Seokjin replied, still looking at you. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff to come clear with. And I’ll tell her I’m in love with her. And that she’s not going to Namjoon’s. She’s staying with me.” He winked. “She needs to eat and regain some strength before she goes to the woods, if she still wants to go. I’ll tell her ‘Buttercup, I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for four years.’” His voice broke. “‘I don’t want to spend one more day without you’, that���s what I’ll tell her.”

You were still incredulous, completely still under the blanket.

“And then I’ll ask her to be my girlfriend, and if she turns me down, then it’s alright. I’ll take it like a gentleman. I’ll let her be. But if there’s even a tiny, minuscule part of her that wants to say yes, then I won’t let her go until she agrees to become my girlfriend.” Seokjin explained, with determination filling his voice.

Yoongi got emotional. “Go tell her before you change your mind.”

“She’s right in front of me. She heard every single word.”

“Then I guess you have more important stuff than stay on the phone with me.”

Seokjin chuckled. “Hopefully kiss my new girlfriend, if she lets me.”

You didn’t even understand what was going on before you nodded energetically.

“She said yes. I gotta go.” Jin’s mouth shaped into a large, proud grin.

“Sure. Stay safe. I’m too young to become an uncle.” Yoongi teased with a snicker.

“Goodnight uncle.” Seokjin replied before closing the call.

Your stares stayed locked together as he placed down the phone.

His expression turned serious but kind. “You’re awake.”

You blinked and licked your lips. “I am.” You took a pause, inhaling. “And I want to kiss you.”

He mirrored your action, his tongue slipping out, wetting the seam of his mouth, directing your glance there. “I want to clear things up, before that.”

You closed your eyes, trying not to lose your patience. “What is there to clear up?”

“I just wanted to explain stuff. About Grace and all of the rest...”

From the insecure, agitated look in his eyes, you realised he was scared. You patted the sofa, inviting him to sit beside you. He followed your lead. “I’m listening.” You reassured him, placing your hand on top of his knee.

“When I started dating Grace, I was convinced I could never stand a chance with you. And though Yoongi insisted on the fact that you had feelings for me, I was too shy and too scared to risk it. And after living with you and being so… united. So domestic… I couldn’t handle my feelings anymore.”

You rubbed his arm comfortingly, sitting up, trying to reassure him, to heal him from all those months of insecurities and silence and denial.

“I tried to suppress them. And Grace looked so kind, so respectful. And she’s a beautiful young woman. I could see myself falling for her.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder. You still had to realise that such a gesture had a deeper, somehow different meaning, that from then on you were allowed to do that and more.

“But the closer I got to her — and the farther I got from you — the more it all felt wrong. And I don’t even know why I did what I did that Saturday — well Sunday, you know what I mean anyway. I think some part of me was angry because of Edmund or something, or because I thought that I could stop thinking about you if I found someone else to think about and that makes me an absolute idiot—”

You interrupted him. “Don’t hide from me. Ever.” You cupped his face and made him look at you. “You were hurt. And I took similar decisions. What I did with Edmund was somehow similar to what you did with Grace. It’s just that you two had feelings for each other while—” The idea of him being in love with someone else squeezed your lungs until you felt empty.

“I’ve never felt someone as deeply as I feel you, though. I’ve never felt so many things for anyone else beside you.” He said, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked at your lips.

“I love you.” You murmured. There were no other words you could use. “I’m in love with you and I’m not angry that you tried to forget and move on. It doesn’t matter that we fucked or made love to other people. I don’t care that you didn’t tell me. The only thing that matters is that you’re here now and I love you so much.”

He repositioned himself so he could look at you without getting a crick in his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, soft and delicate, worried even.

“Because I couldn’t think about losing you. Because I didn’t even realise I was in love before you started spending time with Grace. Well, I knew I was attracted to you and that I considered you my friend, but I had never really allowed myself to consider I could have more. I was happy with what we had, and I never realised I could lose it, or that someone else could have it instead of me.”

He touched your hair.

“I was okay with what we had. Asking for more felt selfish. Like I was being greedy.”  You lowered your eyes, his gaze too intense for you to resist.

“I want you to be greedy, Buttercup.” He whispered, his hand cupping your jaw. “I want you to take all of me and not leave a crumb for anyone else.” His body felt closer, hotter. “I love you, Buttercup. And not in the friendly way. I love you in a very passionate, very hungry way.” His thumb traced your lower lip as he gazed at it heatedly. “Do you love me too?”

You nodded recklessly, almost snapping your neck. “I love you. In a very unfriendly, very sexy way.”

He smiled. “Good.”

His mouth lowered gently, reaching yours, his whole body inching forward until your eyes lost focus and closed. It was a good kiss. Not perfect but good.

Jin’s lips felt soft against your mouth, maybe a bit too delicate, still, definitely pleasing. With just a pinch of mischief, you pulled at his lower lip lightly, biting it delicately.

The growl he emitted had you smiling before you repeated your teasing move, drawing him in. He exhaled and opened his mouth, sucking your upper lip past his teeth.

That felt better than good, leaning to perfect.

What actually made it perfect was his body completely caving in as he manoeuvred himself on top of you, holding himself up with one hand as his hand explored your body deliciously, caressing your hair, your shoulder before reaching your waist.

Helpless and desperate, you pressed the tip of your tongue against his lower lip, pushing it into his mouth.

His hips pressed sinfully against your thigh as he groaned and tangled his tongue with yours.

You moaned and he whimpered in return, a growl vibrating deep in his throat.

His hand moved under your shirt, stopping abruptly.

Dammit.

Your stomach rumbled noisily, making Seokjin part from you. “You’re really hungry.”

You blushed and looked away. “Yeah.”

He hid his face into your neck, snickering. His breath tickled you. “You feel so good right here.” He said, snuggling closer. “But I have to feed you first.” His fingers dug into your sides. “You’re thin.”

Your nails raked against his back. “I had a bit of a hard time in the last few days.” You mentioned casually.

“Can’t have you like this.” He parted from your body, studying your face attentively. “Let’s get you fed.” He whispered, pecking your lips and standing up, heading to the kitchen.

“You’re kidding, right?” You stood up on wobbly legs and followed him.

He looked back at you. “Not at all.” Jin theatrically opened the fridge and lifted an eyebrow. “Chicken wraps. Salad. An abundant dose of ice cream. I need you sugared up.”

You looked at him with a pout.

“It’s the quickest meal I can arrange, Buttercup. We can have dinner in forty and then cuddle and make out. Dinner is non-negotiable.” He said, getting the chicken strips and the large tortillas, together with cherry tomatoes and cheese.

“Can’t we just… postpone dinner?” You said, too caught up in your grovelling to bring up memories of him and Grace in the kitchen.

“Why would we need to postpone dinner?” He asked, slipping some butter into a pan, together with some garlic, moving the chicken strips onto the pan and roasting them quickly with a random — and a very delicious-smelling — mix of spices.

You dragged your foot against the floor, trying to look demure. “You know why...”

He snickered devilishly. “We’ve waited for four years. One more hour won’t hurt you. Cut the cherry tomatoes, please.”

“Especially because we waited for years we should be forgoing dinner.”

He laughed. “I won’t have you fainting on me. Dinner, then whatever you want, Buttercup. Cut those tomatoes, you’re postponing the fun.” He said, adding a spoonful of chicken broth to keep the meat in the pan soft and tasty.

“Now I remember how insufferable you truly are.” You said, starting with the cutting.

He smirked. “You’re stuck with me from now on, doll.”

“I’m revoking the love declaration.” You muttered.

“Are you revoking your undying lust for me too?” He asked, turning towards you with a lopsided, cocky grin.

You just looked at him with the most insulting look you could muster before returning to the tomatoes.

“Such a good girl. Still cutting those tomatoes to get her reward.” He joked.

Once, this kind of nagging was absent minded, innocent and playful. Now it was outright sexual. Especially since the praise had a shiver running down your spine.

“Don’t tease if you’re gonna make me wait.” You groaned.

He bent and kissed your cheek. “I’m doing it for your good, Buttercup.” He moved to your earlobe. “You’ll thank me later, doll.” He nibbled on the soft skin. “I promise it will feel so good, Buttercup.”

You stretched your neck to the side, offering him the expanse of taut, corded throat.

He grazed it with his teeth, drawing the purple-greenish line of your jugular.

“I bet you taste so damn good,” he murmured, sucking at the base of your throat.

“Jinnie.” You called delicately.

He parted from you abruptly. “Dinner. First, dinner.” He reminded himself. “Dammit, you’re such a tease.” He complained, picking up another larger pan to heat up the tortillas. He also added a light sprinkle of flour to the chicken, to give a creamier texture to the sauce made by the broth and the butter. Once the first tortilla was warm, he placed the chicken on top, mingling it with the tomato pieces and the cheese while you prepared the salad.

Dinner was ready in twenty minutes, the wonderful smell of spices filling your nostrils and making your mouth water as you sat and stared at your tortilla, waiting for Jin to sit down himself. He also added an interesting bottle of white wine to the mix, matching the chicken.

“Enjoy.” He exclaimed before digging in himself.

Your whole mouth was feasting at the taste of the food.

It could feast for something better, your hormones reminded you, but you let that slip.

Dinner was uneventful, the both of you too busy and hungry and tense to start a conversation.

While you were thinking about how to tell Jin you wanted him to ram you into the mattress and slap your tits, he thought whether it was okay for him to want sex already. Okay, technically you had been friends for years, but maybe you wanted to wait, go on actual dates, be a couple, in an official relationship before letting him make love to you.

It was pretty clear that any kind of conversation between such two people would evidently elucidate any semblance of doubt, but it would also be a minefield of misunderstandings and potentially very embarrassing bushes to beat around.

So you both stayed silent, completely oblivious to the lessons you had learned roughly an hour ago.

By the time he stood and prepared a small bowl of plain milk gelato, topped with his special wild berries sauce, doubt had nagged at him enough that he was ready to speak.

He placed the bowl on the table. A lovely royal blue bowl. It was his favourite. Maybe because it was his mother’s favourite. He sat down and patted his hands against his thighs. “Come here.” He murmured.

You obliged, settling on his lap contentedly. He took a spoonful of dessert, making sure that he got some sauce in it before offering it to your awaiting mouth. “Eat up, doll.”

You opened your mouth and enjoyed the refreshing feel of the gelato against your palate.

“I need you to listen to me, Buttercup.” He started. “I know we confessed our feelings and that we’ve been attracted to each other for a very long time.”

You nodded, watching as he offered another spoonful as soon as you opened your mouth.

“I just want you to know that I’m dying to make love to you tonight, but we don’t have to. It’s okay if you want to… I don’t know, get physically intimate a bit at a time, or if you want it to be something special, or—”

You interrupted him. “I want to make love to you too, tonight.”

Your eyes followed him as he licked his lips. “Shall we bring this to the bedroom then?”

Nodding you stood up, going for the living room and grabbing the comforter, walking down the corridor and looking at him from over your shoulder. “What are you waiting for?” You asked before disappearing into his room.

He shook his head in disbelief before grabbing more wild berries sauce. Maybe, hopefully…

He took the bowl of ice cream and a spoon, taking his time before entering his room.

You were already laying on his bed, head to toe a vision.

You had already removed your yoga pants and you were laying there in an oversized t-shirt.

“Tell me how you want me to treat you, Buttercup.” He asked, studying you as he took a mouthful of gelato to his mouth.

“Undress first. Then come here. Feed me that delicious dessert and then feed me your cock.” You said, completely unashamed as his burning gaze explored your naked skin.

“I won’t feed you my cock, sorry doll.” He said, placing the bowl on the nightstand together with the sauce. “I’ll need to suck on your pretty tits first.” He took off his sweater in a flash, your eyes reacquainting with his naked chest, bathing in the glorious width of it. It was really breathtaking, with its plains and slopes and dips.

“You’re gorgeous.” You murmured, looking at him while your hand went to your breast, palming it and teasing the peak while he took off his sweatpants. Watching the delicious shape of him from over his boxers had you moaning just slightly, whimpering weakly before your hand slid under your shirt to grab at your flushed, overheated chest.

Seokjin caught your wrist vigorously, pulling it out. “Those are mine to touch, doll.” He reprimanded you. “All mine.” He repeated, straddling your waist, pinning your hands up.

You looked at him with a wicked smile. This, this, was your best friend, the man you had loved for years. And here he was, pinning your wrists, ready to mark your breasts, to own them.

“Keep ‘em there.” He ordered, letting go of your wrists before stretching his fingers to completely hold your breasts, kneading them lightly to test the texture.

“Fuck, they're so soft.” His eyes closed as he felt them up appreciatively. “I can't wait to suck these.” He said, and his unashamed comment opened another new world to you. His thumbs found your nipples, rolling them under the plush pads of his fingers. “You like this?” He asked, looking in your eyes.

You nodded, stretching toward the bedside table and switching on the small lamp there. “Wanna see you.” You explained, looking at him, waiting for a reaction.

“Are you sure? You okay with me watching?” He asked, just as your eyes closed and your back arched, your breasts pushing against his palms, your throat emitting the shyest moan.

“Oh, you like this a lot, don't you, Buttercup?” He snickered, bending down to kiss your neck. “Let me hear how good it feels, honey,” He murmured, sucking at your skin gently.

“Please, I want my shirt off, Jin.” That's all you managed to say, squeezing your thighs together once you realised he wasn't giving you anything to grind against.

“You want me to touch your naked skin?” He asked, making you grow even more desperate.

“Please. Jin…”

He looked at your face. It was absolutely adorable as it scrunched up in disappointment, a lovely pout making your lips rounder, softer, plumper. He kissed them briefly. “Sit up, lovely. Let's take this shirt off.” He murmured with a deep baritone timbre.

The shirt was gone in a second, his mouth latching on a nipple before you could even take off the shirt completely.

His hips ground against your belly, his erection pressing hard against your navel while you laid back down, his front arching away from you as his mouth stayed attached to your chest.

“Please, gimme…” You tried to speak, needing something to ease the pressure between your thighs, where your throbbing clitoris felt unforgivably neglected.

“What?” He asked, parting from your breast and looking so blissful and confused, like he didn't even know what was going on, like your breasts had given him a total reset and all he could remember, all he could ever want and do was to stay there and suck, completely oblivious to anything but the object of his lust.

“Need you down there,” was all you managed to say, still too high from the promises of pleasure.

He grinned *hazily. “Down where?” He asked, teasing and unforgiving.

You exhaled and whimpered. “I need you between my legs.”

“Between your legs where, Buttercup? Don't be shy.”

At that you snapped. “If you intend to keep sucking my nipples could you please kindly press your thigh against my clit? I need to grind on something and you're being too fucking uncooperative.”

He laughed almost hysterically. “Of course, Buttercup. See, was it so hard to ask?” He commented, almost too patronising.

“You're making me want to shut your mouth.” You replied, pushing your hips up and finally meeting his hard thigh, giving a low moan.

“Too bad that would keep me from doing this.” He said, sitting up slightly, grabbing the spoon from the bowl and pressing the cold metal to your areola, spreading a thick layer of ice cream there while your hot skin made it melt and dribble down.

“Fucking hell.” You said, watching as his tongue slid out and collected the rivulet of cream that was dangerously rolling down towards the sheets, almost staining them.

His eyes found yours and he grinned. “Feels good?”

You nodded. “Do that again, please.”

He obliged, this time reaching the peak and sucking it, his mouth opening wide as he tried to suck away as much dessert as possible.

Your left hand went to his head, holding him against your breast while your right one went to his ass, pressing it down so that your pelvis and his met, grinding against each other deliciously, his mouth leaving the sucking motion to release a heavy exhale.

“You have the most beautiful tits I've ever seen and touched, Buttercup. They feel so soft and warm and good.” He murmured, so aroused it almost felt painful. “I love them so much.” He confessed, pressing them together and dipping his face in between, moving it side to side. “I love you so damn much, ____.”

He gave a few thrusts with his hips, before pressing his cock harshly between your bodies, your skin feeling so sensitive that you thought you could feel it throb against you.

“I want you inside.” You whispered, grinding into him in response. “Tell me you used a condom the other time.”

He nodded. “I always have.”

You nodded in reply. “You sure you’re clean?”

“I got tested before Grace. And she’s clean.” He said, slowing down at the mention of his ex.

You nodded. “I got checked after Edmund, for peace of mind. All safe.”

“Thank fuck.” He commented, biting the underside of your boob. “I can’t wait to feel you raw on me. If you’re okay with that.”

You confirmed, bobbing your head so energetically you thought it would detach from your neck. “Want to feel you cum inside.” You murmured while he bit his lip and got more ice cream, covering your other breast, the cold of the food and the spoon making you keen and purr. “Is this what you were doing while she made those sounds?”

He tutted and shook his head. “I’ve always wanted this with you. It would never please me as much with anyone else.”

You rolled your eyes. “Liar.”

He arched an eyebrow and stopped his licking and sucking motions, sinking his teeth into your flesh, eliciting a gasp from you, leaving his position only once he was sure he had left a mark. “What did you say?”

“That you’re a liar. That you like this more with me than with anyone else,” you replied, cocky and bratty.

Without thinking twice, he slapped your left breast violently, not even trying to be delicate.

You squealed, your whole body flinching before your fingers gripped the sheets tightly.

“You think I would do this with just anyone?” He asked, almost angry, the hard bite in his voice scaring you just a little.

He eyed the other breast meaningfully, placing his hand there but not slapping the full curve until you shook your head yes, giving him permission.

The second blow had you losing your mind completely, your cunt so sensitive that you felt a heavy gush of arousal drip out of your entrance. “No, Jin.”

“Grip the headboard and stay still.” He said, sitting up and tugging your panties down, the fabric almost ripping at the aggressive movements. “Maybe you don’t get how much you turn me on, Buttercup.” He grinned, looking at you finally naked in front of him.  “Do you know how many times I saw those perky nipples under my shirts? How many times I thought about covering them in any food imaginable?”

You shook your head. “Maybe I wanted you to lay me on top of the kitchen table and shove your cock in my cunt and bruise my tits all over.” You replied, batting your lashes innocently. “Maybe call me your dirty little slut. Throw in a couple spanks.”

He stopped everything he was doing, entirely frozen.

“Is that how you like it?” He asked, completely focused on your reply.

You licked your lips. “With you I might like that, yes.”

“You want to be my dirty little slut?” He asked, staring into your eyes, quoting your words exactly.

You inhaled and nodded.

“You want me to degrade you?” He asked again, settling between your legs and rubbing your thighs.

Again, you shook your head yes.

“What if I called you my cockstarved whore?” He said, slightly hesitant.

You smiled and closed your eyes. “Why don’t you do that while squeezing my cheeks with one hand and slapping my tits with the other?”

He snickered. “You really are a filthy animal, uh?” He slapped your breast and bent down to your face. “You want me to use you like a fuckdoll, mh?”

“Yes, please.”

“I need to stretch you first, though, love.” He said, softening for a second. “Now, out of our little game here, I don’t want to hurt you like that, yes?”

Your mind sobered up for a minute as you listened to him.

“Listen to me now, Buttercup. We need a safeword, love.” He said, touching your face. “You okay with colours? Green is good, yellow is slow down, red is stop.”

“I’m good with that.” You replied, trying to reach his face with yours. “Can you kiss me, please?”

His expression turned longing and fond before he took his time, making love to your mouth with his, his kiss so deep and demanding and passionate until he felt how wet you were against his thigh.

“You’re drenched, doll.” He said, smirking at you. “I want to feel your pretty hand around my cock, Buttercup. Stroke me while I stretch you, love.”

You nodded, your hands leaving the headboard lightning fast sliding into his underwear with speed you doubted you could muster in any other circumstances.

“Fuck, you’re thick.” You said once your fingers wrapped around him.

“That’s what the stretching is for, Buttercup.” He grinned as he looked down at you. His fingers slipped into your slit effortlessly, your inner muscles gripping him immediately.

“And you’re tight. So damn tight.” He replied, bending down to lick at your chest, suctioning your areola into his mouth, shaking his head, making your whole breast bounce in a movement that was too mild to cause pleasure, weren’t it for the incredible amount of arousal circling in your bloodstream.

“Please, Jin. Inside. I’m begging. Please.” You pleaded, stroking him, feeling how long and thick and hot he was, filled with ridges and veins. And he was circumcised. None of your previous partners were.

You explored the differences with your fingers, the lack of skin there so interesting and unusual.

“You like that?” He asked, gritting his teeth as he felt his cock flutter, a drop of precum leaving his slit.

You nodded as you caught his arousal, spreading over the soft, spongy tip, completely undisturbed by foreskin. “I want to see it.” You said before a long moan left your lips, his fingers hitting a sensitive spot inside you, rubbing it with slow movements of his index and middle finger, hooking them and pressing intensely against the smoothest patch of skin. “Oh, god.” You murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as he added his thumb on your clit.

“Cum on my fingers, Buttercup.” He growled. “Then I’ll let you see my cock. You need to cum first, though. Cum for me.”

While your hand stroked him lightly, absentmindedly, the rest of your body focused exclusively on the feel of his digits inside you. ‘I’m close’ was all you managed to say before your hips started following your high, your body becoming completely unresponsive to any semblance of control your mind tried to impose.

“Cum, love.” He said, and your whole being responded, your hand stilling, your breathing stopping, your eyes opening wide before closing again while ecstasy possessed you.

“Yes, love. That’s it. My filthy thing. Show me how you do it.” He spurred you on, watching your body contort in pleasure.

“Jin.” You whined, the first sound you managed to emit since you came apart for him.

“Yes.” He said, removing his thumb from your clit and adding another finger inside you, stretching you wide before you called a yellow.

He extracted his fingers and laid them flat against your mound. “I think I promised you my cock, uh?”

Grinning wildly, you agreed, trying to tug his boxers off. “I want it. I earned it. Give it to me.”

He snickered, cleaning his hand against your breast before collecting your taste and what was left of the gelato with the flat of his tongue. “How demanding.”

“I’ve waited four years. Can’t you just do me already?”

“We could have waited way, way less.” He said, taking the bowl with only a spoonful of molten ice cream, tipping it teasingly over your torso, drawing a line that went from your belly button to your mouth, which you opened wide, letting the liquid dribble in.

Seokjin stared in wonder, imagining something else spilling into your mouth. Once there was nothing left, he placed the bowl back on the bedside table, bending down and licking up the line of cream he had drawn, slowing down to make sure he didn’t leave too much of a mess.

By the time he reached your neck and chin, he was ready to explode with want, his whole body needing to claim, own, possess.

“Is my little slut ready?” He asked, lingering over your face. “Or does she need to learn some more patience?”

You shook your head, licking his lips. “Please.” You begged, your nails raking down his back.

“That’s a good slut. You’re begging for my cock?”

You nodded.

“And you’re so dumb for it you even lost your words?”

You nodded again, grinning.

“She’s the smartest little bean and still gets silly for my cock.” He smiled fondly, almost insultingly. “That’s my pretty fuckdoll.”

He laid down beside you, finally freeing his cock as he arched his hips off the bed and removed his underwear.

Your eyes focused on his dick immediately, the shaft so beautiful, covered in veins just like you had imagined when you had felt it underneath your fingertips.

“Dammit. It’s...” You bent over him, getting your hands on him, bringing your face closer to his crotch, wanting to learn every single detail by heart. “Jin.”

“What.” He replied before throwing his head back, his fingers going to the pillow and gripping it, his hand leaving the fabric to press his palm to his mouth.

You had teasingly taken his tip into your mouth, his skin feeling so smooth and hot, salty, your cheeks and tongue eager to squeeze him tentatively, feeling just how spongy his flesh felt.

He moaned sinfully. “You’re really hungry, aren’t you, my naughty slut.” His hand reached the crown of your head, caressing your head before pulling you off. “I wanna cum in your dripping cunt, Buttercup. Come up here.”

“What if I wanna blow you?” You teased, arching an eyebrow.

“Maybe I’ll let you do that for round four or something, come up here, let me fill that tight warm cunt.”

Closing your eyes, smiling slowly, you straddled his hips. “You’d better keep your mouth on my boobs in the process.”

He giggled. “Wouldn’t have it any different. Come here.” He opened his arms and you propped yourself on your elbows. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You cupped his cheek and waited for him to kiss you.

He obliged. “Feels so good to taste me on your tongue.” He murmured, stroking your back.

“I haven’t even properly taken you in my mouth.” You quipped, slightly petty.

He smiled and grabbed his cock, placing the tip against your entrance. “I’ll make up for it.” He kissed your cheek. “Take your time.”

You nodded and lowered yourself slowly. Taking the first few inches was blissful, the lack of barrier making him slide easily.

“Fuck, it feels good.” He growled. “You feel so warm and tight, love. You feel fucking amazing.”

You purred as you took some more, the stretch becoming more difficult. Your inner muscles contracted, making you come to a halt.

“Holy fuck.” He murmured, his hips pushing in before he managed to control himself. “Sorry, Buttercup, so sorry.” He apologised as you flinched. He kissed your face repeatedly. “I’m so sorry.” He touched your cheek.

“It feels good, but I need to—” You took more of him. “Go slow.”

He nodded and felt your breast against his palm, hanging heavy, right there for him to reach and touch and fondle and suck. “Sure thing, love.” He looked into your eyes. “Tell me how I can make it better.”

You shook your head. “Just hold me, please.”

He wrapped you in his arms just as you took all of him, sitting on him. “Yes, ____. You are so perfect.”

You closed your eyes, breathing in through your mouth. Slowly, you started rotating your hips, feeling how his cock filled you, pulsating inside you. “Jinnie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Buttercup.” He spoke gently, assisting you as you started riding him, his fingers gripping your hips gently.

“You’re so hot.” You whined, biting your lip, watching as his face contorted in pleasure. “I love you so much,” you said with a whimper, your inner walls constricting around him.

“Stop getting tighter, it feels too good.” He whispered, chuckling in desperation.

“Don’t you wanna fill me up?” You looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “I want you to. Please.” You spoke through a pout, moving faster on him.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to keep himself grounded.

You slowly rose to a sitting position, leaving the warmth of his embrace. “Don’t keep me waiting.” You provoked him, spreading your tiny hands over his insanely wide chest, your nails teasing him just a little. “I know you want to watch me drip in your cum.”

He exhaled heavily before giving a deep, breathy laugh, like a short series of hiccups. “You think you deserve my cum, you dirty slut?” He licked his lips, observing your tits shake right in front of his face before slapping them, earning a moan from you. “You really like them slapped, uh? Let’s see if you like spanks too.” He taunted before landing a heavy smack on your ass, enjoying the squeeze of your kegels. “And that pussy likes to clench me so tight.” He grinned, watching as your hand reached your clit, your eyes closed, your hair messy around your face. “Yeah, touch yourself, Buttercup.”

Your gaze met his, your chest blushing as your high approached. “I’m close.”

“It’s okay, keep touching yourself, love. I want you to feel good, honey.” His hips thrust in from beneath, making the stimulation more intense.

“I’m cumming,” you whimpered, leaning even more into your hand as your angle shifted, his cock hitting all the right spots inside you.

As soon as your body crashed on his, Seokjin caught you, holding you close while his throbbing cock kept pistoning in and out of you, focusing on making your orgasm last as he started zeroing in on his own.

“Keep it up, love,” he growled sternly while he felt his restraint slip, “I’m gonna get my slut sloppy with my cum, then I’m gonna lay her on her back and keep it plugged inside her while I fill her up some more.”

You only sobbed and squealed as you felt him get absolutely wild, growling as he gave messier strokes before sinking in deep and staying there, his cock pulsating and spilling his release inside your sensitive walls.

“Goodness, fuck, love. Never had a cunt this good.” He growled, holding his position for a minute, both of you exhausted and breathing heavily.

“Are you really going to do that?” You asked as soon as you came to your senses.

He blinked. “What?”

“The flipping on my back and going for round two?” You asked, parting from him just enough to look him in the face.

“Am I soft?” He asked you, arching an eyebrow.

You squeezed him with your kegels, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth as he felt you get impossibly tighter. “No.” You replied, looking into his dark gaze.

“Then you have your answer.” He smirked before executing his power move, your back hitting the sheets while he adjusted himself on top of you. “Grab the headboard. Hold on tight.” He said before sliding out and snapping his hips forward, his dick hitting the deepest corner of your sex.

“Oh, damn.”

He chuckled ruthlessly. “Damn right.” He replied cockily, slamming into you again, setting a fast, angry pace, watching your lips open wide, his cock coaxing cry after cry from your throat. “Are you gonna cum for me again? Milk this cock with your juicy cunt?”

You nodded helplessly, arching your chest up, trying to get his attention on your nipples.

He bent down obediently, giving you exactly what you were silently asking, his tongue laving your left areola in lazy, teasing licks. “Touch your clit.” He commanded, feeling his edge come around.

While his cock kept ramming in and out of you, his mouth went to your throat, biting you, his neck contorting as he tried to pay more attention to your sensitive skin.

Your fingers reached your clit just as he sunk his teeth in the soft curve of your bosom.

“Jin, please.” You croaked, your hips meeting his while the room filled with the sound of skin smashing against skin, the headboard thumping against the wall, the feet of the bed scraping against the floor, his laboured breath interrupting once you felt his cock spill inside you again with the strange, pleasurable sensation of his cum spurting against your walls.

You whimpered, hoping you could still cum one more time, but ready to give that up, if need be.

“Come on, Buttercup. One more. I know you can.” He said, staying inside you, arching off of you and slapping your breast again. “I know you’re still hungry for my cock. Give me one more, my lovely little slut. Gimme more, love. I’m waiting for you.” He said, watching your fingers work your clit furiously.

“Again, Jin.” You whimpered, your voice breaking.

“This?” He asked, hitting again.

“Yes, Jin, Yes. Please, Seokjin.” You begged. “Please, I love you, please, make it good. Please, please, please.” You cooed and chanted, so lost in pleasure you felt your high peak and before it shoved you tumbling downhill, pleasure making you soar and precipitate, like a small bird in a storm.

“Oh, you’re cumming, Buttercup.” He observed delivering small hits to your nipples before pinching one, then the other, tweaking them energetically but carefully.

“Jin.” You whimpered in a long moan.

“Oh, yes, ____. It’s me love. You’re with me, love.” He said, just as you tried getting closer to him, your hand resting on your mound while your other arm wrapped around him.

“I love you.” You whispered, your breath calming down. “I’ll never stop saying it.”

He rolled the both of you on your sides, looking at each other.

“I love you too, Buttercup.” He whispered, bringing you closer to him. “We’re both so messy.”

“The ice cream got so sticky.” You complained sadly, giving him a tired look.

“We should shower.” He considered, kissing your lips.

“You really feel like standing up?”

He eyed you eloquently. “I haven’t even slid out of you yet.”

You hummed. “Don’t want you to.” You mused, nuzzling into him.

“We need to clean you up.” He said, stroking your hair fondly. “My adorable messy slut.” He said with the expression and tone of the most affectionate praise.

You purred under his touch, feeling something flutter in your guts. “Don’t say it if you’re not going to torture me afterwards.”

He chuckled. “Let’s clean you up and get some rest. I’ll give you round three if you behave.”

“And then I can blow you for round four?” You asked, eyes bright and inquisitive.

He outright laughed, the sound making you laugh too. “Maybe.” He said, cupping your cheek and pulling out of you slowly, grabbing his boxers to clean you up as delicately as possible before you both stood and walked to the bathroom.

Seokjin woke up around five am, his alarm telling him it was time to get ready for Sunday shift. He would come back in time to make you breakfast — and maybe make love to you afterwards.

Switching off the alarm, he slid out of your grip, your arm thrown possessively around his waist.

He caressed your face before kissing your forehead and stepping away, knowing that it would take a catastrophe to take himself away from you if he lingered for too long.

Your eyes opened when the alarm stopped, watching his back as he disappeared into the bathroom.

When he came back, he was fully dressed, only his shoes and coat missing. You opened your eyes as he pressed his lips to your cheek. “Bakery?” You asked. “Don’t you have someone for the morning shift?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been considering getting some help. At least for a couple mornings a week.”

You hummed and nodded. “I can come along if you need.”

He denied. “Stay here. I wanna find you sleepy and cosy when I come back. Remember round five?”

You smiled and hid into the pillow. “Yes, please.”

He smiled along. “Good. Go back to sleep, Buttercup. We’re going on our first date today.”

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

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

Masterlist

[forcebook]

Venji has always been endgame: Benji’s attraction to Victor

the first thing I really need people to understand is that Benji is not watching the show, he’s not seeing things through Victor’s point of view, and for the most part of the season he has no idea Victor is struggling with his sexuality. from Benji’s point of view, Victor is straight and into Mia. that’s how I’m going to be analyzing his thoughts and actions (well, guessing mostly because he does lack screen time and insight moments. hopefully we’ll get more of him in season two!!)

btw I’m gonna break it down episode by episode because I’m insane (and I also feel strangely connected to Benji so don’t @ me)

Episode 1 - Welcome to Creekwood

as I’ve mentioned before, you can interpret Benji’s “nice shoes!” line as interest. but even if you’re not willing to do that, I still think it’s valid to consider that he might’ve felt some kind of immediate connection to Victor (if episodes 2 and 3 are any indication of that. and the Call Me Maybe lyrics).

Episode 2 - Stoplight Party

the “Benji attempts to teach Victor how to make a espresso” scene is very much about Victor’s attraction to Benji so I don’t wanna look too much into it. also Benji comes off as (at least for me!) a very attentive and loving person, so his dedication to teaching Victor felt very genuine. but still like...... he did get lost in Victor’s eyes for a moment before the milk spilled akdjksdjjs

then at the end of the episode Benji calls Victor late at night (he even apologizes for that) when he could’ve called Victor at any other time or could’ve just told him at school. and well, (I may be reaching here but headcanons are always good!!) I like to believe Benji couldn’t stop thinking about Victor, which is why he decided to call. for some unknown reason he already feels connected to Victor and wanted to hear his voice and—

let me stop here before I write a whole fanfic because that’s not the purpose of this post.

Episode 3 - Battle of the Bands

oh boy, I’m gonna try to unpack this episode, hopefully I’ll make some sense. I’m very sorry if I fail!

so, Victor and Benji have the Call Me Maybe (cutest) moment, in which Victor tells Benji that he’s going on a date with Mia the next day.

Now. I need you to remember that Victor explicitly told Benji that he and Mia wouldn’t go to the Battle of the Bands and that Benji had already performed when Victor got there and only performed again because his band won the battle (so I’m pretty sure Victor wasn’t supposed to hear the Call Me Maybe cover). therefore this wasn’t Benji confessing his feelings to Victor. if anything, I believe it was his way of dealing with the intense and ever-growing feelings that he has for Victor through his biggest passion (music), pretty much like making a reference to something that you know no one else will understand (since for everyone else it’s just a Carly Rae Jepsen bop).

but then Victor eventually shows up and hears Benji singing Call Me Maybe and for him it’s definitely not just a Carly Rae Jepsen bop anymore. it’s their song

after the performance, it looks like Benji is going to talk to him about it, maybe to try and make it seem like it’s no big deal (since he thinks Victor is into Mia, and he himself is in a long term relationship) but Derek appears and we’re all left heartbroken (Simon & his friends included).

what I’m trying to say is: they are two halves of the same idiot. while Victor is in denial of his sexuality and attraction to Benji, Benji is in denial of his growing feelings for Victor. we love this denial duo

Episode 4 - The Truth Hurts

not much to say about this one BUT. at the beginning of the episode you can see how Victor and Benji are working totally in sync, to the point where they barely need words like the freaking soulmates that they are. honestly, I’m done pretending they aren’t soulmates because this show just kept shoving that into our faces over and over and if you failed to see it then it’s not my problem (or maybe it is since I’m literally spending my time trying to explain exactly that. but I just care too much about these two and I want people to understand why).

then Derek calls and Benji picks up lovingly because he’s a loving person and a caring boyfriend and even though he might be struggling with his feelings for Victor, he’s not about to neglect his boyfriend (shame we can’t say the same thing about Derek) (no I will not stop throwing shade at him).

Episode 5 - Sweet Sixteen

I could try and say several things about this one but for real, BENJI DREW VICTOR AND GAVE HIM THE DRAWING AS A BIRTHDAY GIFT. like! this stupidly artistic boy!!!!!!!!! this stupidly caring boy!!!!!!!!! he could’ve bought Victor literally anything or not even bothered to think of a gift At All, but he took the time to DRAW VICTOR LIKE ONE OF HIS FRENCH BOYS!!!!! what am I supposed to do with this knowledge!!!!

now I’m imagining Benji observing Victor. the way the light hits his face, how his shoulders move, the shape of his hands....... all the while telling himself it’s just to draw Victor!!!!! but that’s still beautiful and frankly thirsty nonetheless.

p.s I was robbed of a scene like that.

Episode 6 - Creekwood Nights

not much to say about this one except the show blatantly telling us that Derek can be real shitty sometimes. also, I wanna talk about Venji’s dynamics throughout the show so bad but it deserves a post of its own so I’m gonna hold my tongue.

Episode 7 - What Happens In Willacoochee

(stays in Willacoochee or maybe it will haunt your gay ass all the way to New York).

oh boy, this is where shit starts going down for real.

so Victor kisses Benji. I’m not going to defend Victor because what he did was reckless and dumb and frankly disrespectful. but I need to say that it was going to happen sooner or later because when you repress something too hard and for too long, it’s bound to come back with full force and explode in your face. I really wish it was in a different circumstance, of course, but also life isn’t always made of perfect situations and shit happens. (and nope, that does not excuse Victor’s actions).

now think about Benji. he’s been struggling with his feelings for Victor, who as far as he knows is straight and in a relationship, and then suddenly Victor kisses him. my best guess (due to his reaction to Victor’s speech in episode 10) is that he thinks Victor isn’t being serious about it, that in no moment that kiss meant anything but curiosity and recklessness, when they both have people to lose (again, he doesn’t know that Victor struggles with his sexuality, much less that Victor has feelings for him).

so yeah, I believe Benji was upset, not only with Victor though, but with himself.

(I’ll come back to this in a second)

no Benji in episode 8 so.......

Episode 9 - Who The Hell Is B

Benji decides to leave the coffee shop. Victor tells him that the kiss wasn’t his fault and Benji says that being around Victor makes him feel guilty, now why is that?

firstly because he’s not a psychopath and the fact that he cheated on Derek makes him feel guilty. but I do believe that that’s not the only thing that makes him feel guilty. deep down he liked kissing Victor. he likes Victor, he’s been doing his best to keep that buried but Victor had to go and complicate things, so now the only way to avoid making a bigger mess is staying as far away as possible from each other. so he runs back to the safety of his relationship with Derek.

(listen, I know the show makes it seem like Benji is super angry and wants nothing to do with Victor but I don’t believe that’s the case. he’s upset and feeling guilty for liking someone else, denial does make you act very hostile sometimes).

Episode 10 - Spring Fling

Benji’s denial continues but (thankfully) it won’t last much longer.

he goes to the bathroom and tells Victor that he’s read his letter and that he does forgive him for kissing him but that that doesn’t change anything, that it’s best for them to stay away from each other.

that’s until he hears Victor’s speech to Derek (which was more to Benji than Derek so). that’s the moment he realizes that Victor actually likes him, that the kiss as cursed as it was had meant something, that they both feel exactly the same thing. that’s what gives him courage to finally accept that he can’t be with Derek anymore because his heart belongs to someone else. (has belonged to Victor from the moment they met) akdjskdjsj someone please tell me to shut up

which leads us to the bench kiss(es) scene. now, these boys are a whole mess because Victor was still technically dating Mia (he did try to come out to her before, couldn’t do it so he decided to come out after the Spring Fling) (good intention, poor execution).

But I also believe this was just lazy writing and they wanted to have a scene where Mia catches Victor and Benji together. it could’ve been done better, they could’ve been just touching foreheads or something but they wanted the full drama so the kiss(es) happened. I’m taking 50 points away from the writers for this. (also does not excuse Victor or Benji since they literally met halfway. these idiots are so in love wtf!)

(I still love them though, and hope they do better in the future, for themselves and for each other).

anyway, I think that’s it! if you read up until this point: thank you so much!!!! I tried my best to understand and explain Benji since the show said fuck Benji stans. hope this helps!

— love, MJ

[calumrose]

Back To You || C.H

A//N: Ahhhh it’s finally here! Here is part 2 of Keep Coming Back! This has been in the works since the day after I posted KCB, and honestly I was struggling with it for a while but I’m so relieved to finally have it done. This definitely got out of hand much like the first part did and surprise surprise, I finished it at an ungodly hour in the morning so excuse that! Also, thank you to @loveroflrh​ for the title since I couldn’t come up with for love nor money :) But please, enjoy!!

You can find and read part 1 here if you haven’t read it already!

As always, feedback and thoughts are greatly appreciated! Please let me know what you think and maybe if there’s any alternative endings you would have been interested in seeing. I’m curious!

Word Count: 11.7k

Again. Again. And again. 

Finding yourself back inside his apartment building wasn’t part of the plan. 

It was never part of the plan. Nothing that happened was ever part of the stupid, fucking plan…

Calum had called you up; he asked if you wanted to come over and hang out. You knew what it really meant; it always meant the same thing. It was the same thing that left you in a state of dizzying euphoria, a state of confusion, and a state of heartache — exactly what you needed to avoid.

And yet… you took him up on his offer. Again. 

It had been around a week since you last saw him. You had texted back and forth like you usually did, you had even held up your promise and called him when you got home last week to spare yourself the overflow of text messages you knew you would receive if you didn’t. He cared — you knew he did — and that hurt. 

It should not have felt like that, so why did it?

This time was going to be different, you had told yourself this the entire ride over, chanting it like a mantra, silently convincing yourself that you weren’t going to find yourself in the same situation that seemed to occur every time. 

The night of the party was the last time it was going to happen. It had to be…

You had always loved spending time with Calum, loved his company, loved his bad jokes, loved his warm apartment, you loved—  

You couldn't even say it.

God, you felt so stupid saying that word and his name in the same sentence. It felt ridiculous. It was ridiculous. ‘Love’ and ‘Calum’ didn’t fit together — they shouldn’t work together, yet you found yourself not entirely despising the way the two words tasted on your tongue. 

But you couldn’t think like that. You had to stop yourself from letting the mixture of those two words linger, the pleasant taste it left was one you wished to turn toxic, one you wished to become sour and vile. It would be easier if you hated it, if you hated him, but that was impossible. 

You had to physically stop your eyes from drifting to him as you sat together on the couch, the warmth of his palms against your shins as he held your legs on his lap, the back of your head comfortably supported by your fist as you rested your arm on the back of the couch. It felt almost too easy to let your eyes settle on him, his own gaze focused on the movie that played in front of you, watching how his smile curled when Mark Wahlberg’s character made a stupid joke, how little creases would appear by his eyes when his smile became too big, or how his hands would clap together when he would laugh too hard at the stupid scene that played.

God, this movie was shit. This movie was so shit and you felt every second dragging on as the bad acting played out on the screen in front of you. But Calum just put it on, so you didn’t complain. You just sat back and let it play, attention mainly settling on the broad man who sat next to you instead of the godawful comedy. 

You knew you shouldn’t have been thinking about him, thinking about the small things that made him who he was. But you couldn’t stop. Friends shouldn’t think about the little things like that, should they? Friends weren’t supposed to witness the small things like how he clapped when he laughed and wished to be the one who made him do exactly that, so why did you?

This was exactly why you needed to stop your little agreement. You were both just going to get hurt - although to you, you were the only one you knew to be hurting. 

It was just going to end in heartache… And you weren’t ready for that, which is why you needed to put a stop to it now before it was too late. 

You were so lost in your own head, in your denial and personal battle with your feelings, that you didn’t even register the movie credits roll onto the screen. You couldn’t even remember what the movie was, unable to recall a single moment from the last hour and a half that didn’t include the sight of Calum’s smile. 

Why did the air suddenly feel as though it was thickening, like there was a kind of tension you couldn’t bear? You needed to move.

Without a second thought, you pulled your legs from Calum’s lap, unable to deny the grimace that threatened to show in your face as the tingling warmth from where his palms were placed against your skin lingered. It felt nice, it felt-

Get out of your head!

You reached for the popcorn bowl that sat empty on the table, the plastic rim pressing against the web of your thumb, as you let out a soft, “I’ll clean up,” before you made your way into the kitchen, bowl in hand along with the two empty glasses caught between your fingers. You needed to get out of that room, to create some space between the two of you, even just for a minute. Your head was spinning, your mind was racing, and you needed to get your thoughts straight if you were to have that conversation with Calum. 

You couldn’t avoid it. You didn’t want to avoid it – that was the last thing you wanted to do. The two of you had been going around in circles for months, constantly finding yourselves at each other’s beck and call at the drop of a hat. Things needed to change. 

Too many times had you found yourselves sitting with one another either the morning after when you lay together, or when you’d meet up for lunch, or even when he’d actually call just to talk and one of you would say things had to stop. You always commented how you were too old for things like this, how you both needed to get your act together, and yet… You never changed. 

You never changed. 

It felt like such a dirty little secret - what you had with Calum - with how you both would keep it hidden from the rest of your friends. You had the same friend group and god only knows what would happen if they were to find out. It was something you weren’t sure if you were ready to find out. And that just gave you even more reason to end things. 

You emptied the uncooked kernels into the bin, tongue quietly clicking rapidly to yourself, as you pottered around the kitchen, the silence surrounding you only evident much alike the tension you felt previously. The bowl was placed on the countertop with a gentle bang, the sound giving you a bit of a fright which was only heightened by the feeling of a pair of hands finding your waist, a familiar touch you knew all too well. 

This was the start; you knew it was. It always started off like this. 

You knew you had to stop this before it went too far, like it always did. 

“What’re you doing?” Your question sprung from your lips with a tone that you weren’t quite sure how to describe. It almost sounded as if you were teasing, but why would you tease him?

“Missed you,” His voice sounded quiet, almost smooth, warm hands finding your skin beneath your oversized sweater. God, his voice… No, stop that! “Is that such a bad thing?”

Yes. 

That is what you needed to say. So, why didn’t you? Why could you not just speak, just tell him that you needed to talk to him. 

Just tell him.

The feeling of his plush lips against your neck was a feeling you grew familiar with, a softness that struck something within you that you couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard you fought it. It was as if something sucked you back in, as if with every soft kiss he left against your tender skin, he was pulling you in yet again. 

Just say no. Just tell him you can’t. 

It almost seemed so easy, so simple to just tell him to stop and tell him you had to talk to him. It should have been easy, so why did you find it so hard to say anything at all? The man rendered you speechless in seconds, the slightest brush of his fingers or delicate whisper in your ear, and you were done. One single word or action from him and you became a puddle, no matter how hard you tried to control it.

You kept asking yourself so many bloody questions of why. Why, why, why, fucking why? It was all stupid questions of why you couldn’t just open your mouth and say the simple words of ‘we’re done’. It should have been as easy as walking, yet… It seemed to be the biggest challenge you had faced since choosing which college to apply to when you left school. 

Everything was blurred when Calum was in the picture. Everything. It had happened before, and it was happening again, and what were you doing to put a stop to it? Nothing. 

Just like before.

The way he guided you from the kitchen to his bedroom was a blur, your feet already knowing the way, moving with ease — not a single ounce of fight to be found. The layout of his home was practically imprinted in your mind, you knew the familiar twists and turns like the back of your hand. 

You let him. You fucking let him take you back there. 

You didn’t even register the movements, the way his hands on your waist squeezed your skin, the warm tips of his fingers leaving a small fire with every touch. The voice inside your head was screaming, the metaphorical fists of someone caged inside your mind were hammering against the glass behind your eyes, begging to be heard. But all you could hear was the sound of his breathing, the sound of your heartbeat your thudding in your chest as you stood in front of one another, your own hands pressing softly against his chest, setting you up to be in the perfection position to push him away, but instead you grasped onto his t-shirt and pulled him in. 

Just like you always did. 

You hated that you enjoyed how it felt when he touched you, the way your skin felt like it was on fire, like he had just set you alight with a single match. Calum had you in the palm of his hand and he knew it, he knew exactly just how quickly you crumbled when it came to him. And just like before, he used that piece of information. And he used it well. 

He hadn’t even kissed you properly throughout the venture to his room, his eyes remained glued on yours, almost as if he was searching for something in the sea that was your own, searching for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. His lips stayed distant from yours, foreheads pressed together, noses almost brushing as you stared at each other.

You wanted to know what he was thinking; something you wondered often throughout your friendship with Calum. He always seemed to be thinking, an almost lost expression living on his face often – one that was usually confused for a pissed off one. But he didn’t let very many people in, not allowing for many to have the opportunity to see the wonderful world that was Calum’s mind; a place of creativity and sheer beauty, but also a place of wonder, a place of many unanswered questions and unknown adventures.

“Who’s gonna break first huh?” You wanted to punch him when you saw the smirk on his face, hearing the playful tone that laced his tongue, your eyes catching the muscle as it peeked out from the corner of his lips. 

This really was all just a silly game to him, wasn’t it? 

You weren’t going to break though. You weren’t going to go through with this. Were you? This was your chance to tell him, your chance to finish this. Calum had practically handed you this opportunity, so why for the love of god, were you tempted to take it and throw everything you had told yourself back in your own face?

Why were you falling yet again? You were falling so hard and plummeting to ground-shattering self-destruction and yet you didn’t stop. 

You let it happen. Again. 

You knew you had screwed up. And yet… you let yourself unfold, you let yourself succumb to him for another night. 

His lips tasted like a combination of salty popcorn and beer, the argument of ’sweet or salty’ being distant in your head, the smile that threatened to spill at the childish remark he made earlier in the night was natural that you hated it, so you fought it.

You were fighting the smile so why couldn’t you just fight him? 

You were giving in. Again. Just like you did all those times before.  

You hated how enticing he was, how inviting his lips felt against yours, how warm his hands were against your skin. You hated that you liked it. You hated that you liked everything about him. 

But there was something about this kiss that felt almost... different. But that didn’t make sense. Everything was the same; the room, the colour of the curtains, him. Everything was him, and it was dizzying in such a weird way, in a way that you almost couldn’t decipher. Everything was just as it always had been, so why did it suddenly feel so different? 

Maybe you just wanted it to be different; it was your brain psyching you out, leading you into a trap of believing that maybe something else was there behind his lips. 

Who were you kidding? Nothing was ever behind those lips except Calum. The same Calum who you had going back and forth with for months. 

The kiss was softer, almost more delicate, each press of his lips against yours felt like velvet; smooth and luxurious. It had you drunk, craving for more, just like his kiss always did, but this kiss... this kiss had you chasing something you deep down knew you wouldn’t catch. 

You knew you’d never catch him.

His lips felt so familiar, a pattern that you could paint with your eyes closed, his kiss being one that you craved like nicotine. His kiss had you falling so hard you felt like you couldn’t stand, his hands being the only thing kept you upright. 

Calum felt something similar. Your kiss left his head spinning, left his heart thundering in his chest, you left him speechless in a way he couldn’t wrap his head around. You were something so special that it rendered him stunned, frozen in place, something that had his heart literally stopping when he looked at you. 

Every time Calum saw you or spent time with you, he fought so hard to stay out of his own head. He couldn’t get lost in his own head when he was around you because he couldn’t trust himself to stay in control, to keep his mouth shut and to keep his feelings in check. 

You weren’t interested — at least that’s what he thought. 

But, boy, was he so wrong…

Neither of you knew how the other felt. You never asked, so how were you to know? You were best friends yet conversation about your feelings fell through the cracks, became distant whispers that passed in the silence you shared after a night together, never to be voiced loud enough to be heard.

But what if he just said something? What if he tried to talk? Maybe there was a chance—

Stay out of your head, Calum. Neither of you want anything more. This is all you both have. This is all you’ll ever be. 

You were both as bad as each other – screaming at yourselves inside of your own heads. You fought against what you felt that you needed because what you both wanted yelled louder. Your wants overpowered your conscience, blocking out any sense of logic that threatened to creep in, making themselves stand front and centre in the forefront of your mind, repeating themselves like a mantra inside of your heads.

What you wanted… was each other. 

So, why not just say it? 

Calum on top of you felt frustratingly right, the weight of him settled between your legs felt almost comfortable, as if he belonged there, the way his lips worked as they travelled down your neck, kissing the exposed skin that peeked out of your oversized sweater left tingles in their wake. 

Your brain kept screaming at you to fight the feeling, to fight him, but your body couldn’t muster the strength to even attempt to push him away. All your body could do was pull him closer. 

So, that’s exactly what you did. You pulled him closer and danced in the vicious circle with him once more. 

Your fingers made quick work against gripping the hem of his red t-shirt, grasping the soft fabric between your fingertips as you pulled upwards, separating your lips just long enough to remove it. Calum ignored the chill his necklaces provided against his skin, fingers taking the shirt from your hands and throwing it behind him, the soft sound of it hitting the floor echoing momentarily in the silent room. 

Your soft eyes fell to his marked-up collarbones, the black ink that danced along his skin fuelled a gentle burn within you. You had admired the tattoos since the first day you met Calum, had seen them a thousand times, yet every time you saw this up close and personal in times like these, they seemed just as beautiful as the first. 

He was just as beautiful as the first— stop!

It’s sex… Just sex.

Therefore, you had to tell him. You were in too deep over your head, you didn’t know what you were doing. You were tangled up in a mess that you didn’t know how to get out of, too caught up in your feelings that you knew had spiralled out of control long before now. 

You had messed up. Big time. And now you were paying for it. 

But there was something about the way he looked at you, something about the way he touched you, that kept you praying that maybe there was some inkling of hope, even just a dusting, that there was some way that maybe something could come of this. 

Who were you kidding? There was no way...

It was almost as if in that moment you took a breath — not a standard breath, but a real one. A breath that allowed you to see the full picture, allowed for you to see exactly what was right in front of you. And it was in that moment, you almost forgot what intention you had initially come with. You had Calum right there, right in the palm of your hand, and you wanted him. And it pained you to not to be able to deny that, for you to be unable to deny that what you wanted and what you needed were two different things when it came to Calum — something you had to remind yourself of. You were simply a vessel for him to get his fix of a physical connection — that’s what you knew yourself to be. And he felt the same regarding you — he wanted you but was struck with the uncertainty that you saw him in the same light.

Sets of tangled lips clashed in desperation, the moment for a breath forgotten, only lust and hunger evident in the moment between the two of you — the same combination that always lingered. His touch trailed down your body, hands slipping beneath the fabric of your sweater, calloused fingertips dancing across your skin as they ignited a fiery sensation in their midst. 

You could feel him smirk against you, the same classic, smug smirk he wore every other time. It was the same smirk he wore when he knew he was getting what he wanted. But this time, was it really what he wanted? I mean, sure he had you where he wanted you, but at what cost? This would just end like it always did, wouldn’t it? And Calum would be left lonely once more, asking himself why he couldn’t get you out of his head, asking himself why he kept coming back to you just as you did with him, even after so many discussions about what was supposedly the last time. 

It always happened… And you both always came back.

Clothes, just like every other time, were discarded with haste, thrown into a corner of the room only to be remembered the following morning. You were left in nothing but your underwear and bra, the delicate fabric flush against your skin as Calum’s eyes bore into yours, the brown almost hypnotic as it captivated you. 

“What’s taking you so long?” You didn’t even realise you had spoken, your voice almost silent as if your breath was gone, the soft sound merely piercing the silence in the room that surrounded you. 

“Can’t rush the good stuff,” His voice oozed sex appeal – he oozed sex appeal. He always did, he knew he did. The man was gorgeous, you couldn’t deny that. Your hands slid down his toned chest, his golden skin that was marked with black ink tattoos was a sight you drank in, your hands feeling the defined dips and curves of his toned muscles underneath.

You couldn’t fight the natural flex your body made when he pressed his lips against the skin of your neck, every heated kiss painted a path from your jaw down to your collarbones, to the valley of your breasts, his fingers tugging down the middle of your bra where the cups met, a smirk creasing his lips as he pulled on it just enough to almost free your breasts from the confining fabric. The feeling his lips ignited was one you didn’t want to enjoy, it was one that you knew she shouldn’t have enjoyed, but you did.

“Take it off for me,” His lips whispered as he kissed his way down your torso, leaving wet open mouth kisses as he travelled down your body.

Your bra was thrown across the room, the flimsy material forgotten in a corner, when the fingers of Calum could be felt between your thighs. Your eyes fell to where they met his brown, watching as they glimmered playfully in the dim light of his bedroom, little specks of gold shining subtly. 

You complied. Of course, you fucking did.

The searing kisses Calum had been littering on your skin came a slow halt, the weight of him between your legs lightened, your eyes watching as he pushed himself up, biceps bulging deliciously as he supported himself, eyes slowly dragging from where his lips had left a scattering of wet kisses along the waistline of your underwear up your now bare chest, drinking in the sight of your exposed breasts. His eyes seemed to linger on your chest a little longer than usual, you noticed, a small lump growing in your throat as you wondered what he was thinking, what questions could possibly be swimming around in that head of his. 

If you just stopped this, you wouldn’t be wondering what he was thinking… 

Just stop.

Everything Calum did was blurring, as if he had pulled the wool over your eyes and you were unable to remember how you found yourselves in this situation. Calum made you forget your own name, made you forget the simple things, he overwhelmed your mind with the thoughts of what he could do, the actions he could perform, the feeling he could pull from you unlike anyone else. 

Unlike anyone else… 

The sight of you below him was one he had committed to memory, a sight that he swore he could never forget. Your beauty haunted him in the best way, you were all he could see when he closed his eyes late at night, you were the only thing he could think about when he would sit in his home-office at 3am, unable to sleep with a million words scrambling through his head. 

A million words about you. 

He didn’t understand what it was about you that had him so enthralled, what it was about you that had him feeling as though he was tripping over his own two feet around you. Every time he saw you, every time he held you it felt as though you were meant to be — he felt as though you were the only one who was meant to be held by him, that the two of you, confused and stubborn, were meant to be the finishing pieces to each other’s puzzles. 

But Calum saw the way you looked at him, he saw the way you gazed a little too long when you would have lunch together, or the way you would start to blush at the common sound of a nickname he would throw in your direction. Calum had noticed how you had slowly changed as the months went by, how every morning when you left seemed slightly more rushed than the last, almost as if you were purposely trying to avoid him. 

He assumed you thought he hadn’t noticed, letting the little reactions slip through the cracks of your conversation, never questioning the silent goodbye when you would leave each other’s apartments the morning after. But Calum always saw the small details, his vision was sharp — especially when it came to you. When you were in his eyeline, he missed practically nothing. 

So, why would he play dumb to the way you tried to subtly shy away from him when he would call you ‘sweetheart’ or the way you skin would heat up under his touch when he held you late at night? Calum knew you prayed he didn’t notice, and he wasn’t going to be the one to jeopardize what the two of you had — whatever that was. 

But the longer he played dumb to the way you reacted around him, to the way you had slowly changed, the more he felt like he was losing the only sense of control he had.

Control. That’s not what it was. Calum knew that, but that was his way of ignoring his heart. But why should he let his heart speak and soar, when there was such a chance of it becoming broken like before?

Calum wanted more. But that went against everything he had said before — love was a scam after all. Love was a lie, something not to be believed in — not for Calum anyway. But how he felt about you, that left him asking a million unanswered questions. 

Calum felt as though he was standing on a cliff edge, the fall beneath him so far and deep into a bottomless pit of the unknown. He had been standing at that very cliff edge since that first road trip you had taken together. You had both decided to venture out of LA, to get in his car and follow the road and see where you ended up. Although you didn’t get too far, no thanks to a flat tyre that stopped you in your tracks not even ten miles from Calum’s house. Nevertheless, that didn’t put a downer on the trip, you both laughed until you cried at the circumstances, clutching your stomachs and holding one another upright as you tried to gather yourselves from the stomach-paining laughs that escaped you both at the side of the road. 

Every time Calum came face to face with you, the voice in his mind started screaming for him to jump, echoing in his head to take the plunge and attempt to find what he had been looking for all that time. But Calum was never sure if he knew what exactly he wanted to find, he questioned his emotions, questioned his thoughts. 

But it seemed as though for the first time, in a long time, Calum looked down at you as you lay there in front of him, exposed in nothing but a pair of lace panties, that he may have finally realised exactly what he wanted to look for, what he hungrily searched for. 

You. 

And so, Calum jumped. He dived in headfirst into the unknown to see what was awaiting him on the other side. He prayed he wouldn’t be disappointed, begged for his heart not to let him down again. But he had to trust himself, had to allow his heart to feel for the first time in a while, to feel the mind-numbing tingling in his chest that he thought he no longer recognised. 

Calum finally let go and fell. 

He could see you were just as in your head as he was, knowing the way your eyes seemed to almost lose their light for a moment when you ventured too far. Calum knew you like the back of his hand, he knew everything that came with you, and yet he still asked himself if what he felt for you was real. The way you held your bottom lip between your teeth, the piece of flesh held captive in a vice-like hold, caught his attention, his hand coming up and resting delicately against your cheek, thumb lightly pulling it free as his brown eyes found the sparkle in yours once more. His head ducked a little, eyes never tearing from yours as he leaned over you, faces inches apart, lips parting as if he were about to say something. 

Just say it. Just tell her. 

That is what he should’ve done.

For a man who was so good with his words, he wasn’t sure how to voice them. Not to you at least.

Show her. If you can’t say it, show her.

He kissed you again, kissed you like he had a million times before, but this time he meant it. This kiss had a story, this was a new beginning — for him anyway — and he wanted to show you what he felt. He wanted to prove to you that this meant something to him. 

Plush lips pressed against yours, intertwining in a long, sucking kiss as a single palm cupped your face, thumb resting on her cheek and with a gentle grip he pulled you in further. He didn’t want to let you go, he wanted this kiss to provide what his words couldn’t, he wanted to show you how he felt. 

He had to show you how he felt. 

Calum wanted to take his time, he wanted to savour every sweet second he had where he could treasure you in front of him, so he could allow himself to bask in the fall he had taken, venturing into the unknown feeling he had when it came to you. 

You lost yourself in Calum’s lips, the soft flesh hypnotic as you let him take control, you succumbed to him like every other time, but this time you noticed how soft he was being, how every kiss was laced with a delicacy, something that felt so foreign yet so… right. 

The way his hands slid up your bare sides, fingertips grazing against your skin, the smooth pads almost tickling your nerve endings as they found the soft flesh of your breasts, were featherlight, his lips slowly pulling away from yours as they travelled down your jaw, slow, sensual kisses being left against your skin as he made his way down your neck, the sound of each individual kiss causing a flutter in your stomach as you rested your head back against the white pillow while he made his descent. 

The natural blush of your cheeks was warm when you felt Calum’s lips travel down your chest, your eyes closing in pleasurable bliss at the sensation of his calloused fingers playing with your breasts, palms squeezing them gently while his fingers made teasing work of toying with your nipples, the cooling temperature of the room already doing part of the work in hardening them. You waited in anticipation to feel his mouth against you, to feel the wetness of his tongue against your skin. You shamefully craved it, you craved him. 

He didn’t keep you waiting before he indulged you, eyes flickering upwards to catch the sight of you splayed for him, hand running through your hair as your mouth dropped open the moment his mouth captured your left nipple, swirling his tongue around the aching bud, only tantalising you further with the sensation he knew you ached to feel elsewhere in your body. But he was taking his time with you tonight, he was showing you what he should have back at the very beginning. 

He drank in the whimpers that left your lips, the way your free hand came up to tangle in his fading blond curls, the locks becoming caught between your fingers as you tugged gently, silently asking him to continue. 

A beg was so close to escaping your lips when he lifted his mouth from you, the trail of saliva he left behind was chilling against your skin, the warmth of his mouth moving across to your other breast, the flick of his tongue acting as the promise to give your other nipple the same amount of attention as the other. Calum’s lashes fluttered delicately against his full cheeks, eyes closed as he lost himself in the moment he shared with you, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of your flesh in his mouth, to allow himself to provide you with pure pleasure. His teeth came into play briefly, a gentle tug against your nipple caused you to close your eyes and hiss slightly, your grip on his hair tightening briefly as your back arched at the feeling. 

His mouth was a sin. The feelings he could entice were leaving you craving more, leaving you begging for him. 

Calum continued his descent from earlier, lips leaving a wet trail down the valley of your breasts, the familiar sensation tingling against your skin, lips stopping momentarily when they reached the waistband of your underwear, soft flesh dragging against the flimsy fabric. You wanted to speak, to ask him to hurry up, every drag of his lips or touch of his fingers felt like you were being set on fire, desperate to be extinguished, for him to give you what you both desperately wanted. But your throat dried at the thought of speaking, the minute your lips would part, your throat would clam up, only small whimpers and soft gasps able to sound. 

You waited for Calum to remove your panties, your hips lifting ever so slightly in anticipation, waiting for the feeling of his fingers as they peeled them down your legs. But your wait grew, his fingers touching you, but not how you expected. 

Calum swore his entire body convulsed at the sight in front of him, completely at a loss when he slid a hand down your stomach, knuckles grazing against the soft skin of your inner thighs as his index finger slid beneath the material of your underwear, making slow work of prying the material free from its restful placement against your core, a smirk itching on his lips as he moved the fabric aside, switching fingers so he could gain a full view of you as you blossomed for him. 

“Fuck,” Calum let out a breath, his free hand subtly spreading your legs a little more, allowing his view of you in front of him to enhance, the visible dripping he could see between your legs made his mouth water, made him mind run wild with the thoughts of how he could have you. “You’re soaking, love,”

Love. That was a new one. 

You could feel the tip of his thumb drawing unknown shapes onto the skin of your inner thigh, the small patterns only adding to the knot that was settling in the pit of your stomach, the awaiting tension becoming almost unbearable, desperation growing uncomfortably as you craved for him to do something, for to let you feel him. 

“Please…” You practically begged, your voice breaking halfway through the word, lips rolling into your mouth as your chest visibly shook with each breath. Calum had you right there again, crumbling right in front of him without even doing anything, desperate for the ground shattering release you knew he could take you to.

“Please what, baby?” He let out a breath, the warm air against your exposed core sent shivers up your spine. You could hear the smirk in his voice, the same smirk he always wore, but when you opened your eyes just enough to look down at him, there wasn’t a smirk in sight, and you swore the sight you were welcomed with was enough to send you over the edge. Calum was looking up at you with those familiar brown eyes, speckles of gold dancing in them, the hunger he had for you evident, but this time it was mixed with something else.

Desire.

When Calum finally connected his lips and tongue to your core, you had to fight the spasm your body instinctively rippled with, your chest rising with a sharp intake of breath as your mouth fell open at the feeling of his warm tongue against you. The moan that escaped your open mouth was a broken one, your eyes falling closed as your head fell back against the pillow once more, back arching slightly, a single hand still curled in his hair, your grip tightening on the locks as he provided nothing but sheer pleasure. 

The feeling of his tongue entering you was mind numbing, a euphoric sensation that you never grew used to. It had your toes curling against the sheets, your fingers grasping hold of anything they could, your grip vice-like, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. 

Calum’s eyes looked up at you from where he lay, mesmerised by the sight in front of him, watching intently as your head tilted back, chin risen, back arching perfectly, all because of the feeling he was providing you with. He felt dizzy at the sight of you, at how beautiful you were like that for him, completely succumbed and overwhelmed with pleasure as his tongue worked against you. His brown eyes never left you, pupils focused in on how you reacted to his every touch. 

He shifted lower, adjusting himself so he could get a better angle, lips pulling away from your core briefly, lips shining with the taste of you acting like a gloss against his plump lips. Calum’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head at the feeling of your hand tightening its grip on his hair, teeth nipping at the inside of his bottom lip, a soft groan slipping past his lips as he watched you meet his gaze from where you lay. 

God, you looked so beautiful to him. You had always looked beautiful to him, but tonight… Tonight you looked goddamn ethereal. 

Calum was lost in the sight of you, lost in your eyes as you looked at each other, both losing yourselves in the feeling of one another. 

You were both in far too deep. You had both fallen, unsure if you would ever find your way back up.

Now all you had to do was admit it.

***

Just like every other time, the morning came around too soon. The gentle sunlight peeking through the crack in the curtains, the orange light tearing you from your slumber much to your distaste. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, a soft groan escaping your chapped lips as you rolled onto your side, the soft sheets that rested over your body dragging with your movements.

You felt the weight of something hanging over your waist, silently cursing yourself as the recognition of the familiar warm skin against yours settled in.

Fuck… You’ve done it again.

You promised yourself that you weren’t going to do it. And you did.

Well fucking done.

Everything felt as it did before. You had allowed yourself to fall back into old habits; you had fallen right back into bed with the exact person who you had told yourself you wouldn’t. It was just another repeat, another replay of every other night.

No. It can’t be.

This must end. This has to be the last time. 

Surely there could only be so many times you could do this; argue with yourself in the cage inside of your own head, scream at your body for lacking control and being unable to do what you needed to — not what you wanted. 

The warmth that Calum radiated was overwhelming, it was burning your skin through the fabric of the sheets, an uncomfortable – unfamiliar – sweat beginning to grow on your skin the longer you lay there with his own golden flesh so close to touching yours. You had to move, you needed to get out of there.

You had snuck out before after a night together undetected, slipping through the cracks of the open doorways without a sound, somehow avoiding the same floorboard by the front door that you swore could wake someone on the other side of the world when it creaked. You had grown accustomed to slipping away without waking him after long nights when you started this, so why should this morning be any different?

Carefully, you removed Calum’s arm from your waist, a gentle hold on it between your fingers as you slipped out of the sheets, laying it down on the mattress where you previously been lying, rolling your lips briefly into your mouth as you took a quick glance in Calum’s direction, checking that he was still asleep, before you made your way around the room. You made your way around the bed, plucking each item of clothing from where they had been discarded on the floor the night before as you made your way into the bathroom.

Once the click of the bathroom door closing echoed in the small tiled room, you felt as though you could breathe finally, letting a heavy breath – one you didn’t necessarily know you were holding – escape through your nose, your shoulders sinking momentarily. You braced yourself against the ceramic sink, the cold white china against your skin was chilling, the contrast against your warm palms almost grounding you, bringing your thoughts to the forefront of your mind, the events of the previous night replaying like a movie you could recite with the finest tooth-comb. You couldn’t believe you were stupid enough to fall apart for him again, to become a piece of putty in his hands, allowing him to play with you like he would play with the strings of a guitar.

Again. You shouldn’t be surprised; you should’ve known it would happen.

You can’t say no to him. You never could.

“You’re such an idiot,” You let the words fall from your tongue, your eyes meeting your reflection in the mirror, the colour swirling briefly as if they were searching for something, searching for some sort of regret. Your mind regretted what happened, but why didn’t your body? Why didn’t you?

Stupid question.

You had to get out of his house, knowing the longer you lingered, the worse you were going to feel. The sinking feeling that usually settled in when you left Calum’s home was coming early, the empty sensation beginning its debut from the moment you opened your eyes, your choice to play ignorant to such a feeling only allowing for it to worsen later.

With each item of clothing that you returned to its rightful place on your body, you noticed the lack of markings across your skin, your teeth gnawing gently on the inside of your bottom lip as the blank canvas that belonged to you presented itself in its purity. Calum had always been one for littering your skin with soft bursts of purple, blue, and red whenever you two found yourselves tangled in one another, but they were always in places that were hidden. Each mark was kept locked away like a secret, a little hushed whisper which the two of you shared in the dark of the night where you felt nothing but one another. Your body was now lacking the colourful scattering, and you couldn’t help but a light twang of your chest at the unmarked body that looked back at you in the mirror. 

Get out of your head for the love of God! It is reasons like this, you are stuck in this situation. 

Just. Walk. Out.

You were dwelling. Again. 

Get a move on!

You took a final glance in the mirror; a heavy breath being released through your pouting lips before you turned to make your way out of the bathroom. You swore your heartbeat was louder than your feet against the wooden floors, slipping back into his bedroom as you found your belongings that lay in the familiar space on the bedside table, slipping your phone securely back into your pocket.

The natural instinct for your eyes to fall back to the bed was irritating, a slight sting being felt behind them as you fought the want to take a final glance towards the sleeping body whose back rose and fell with every gentle breath he took as he slept. You hated how much you enjoyed every moment you spent with him, you hated how right it felt to be with him in every sense of the word. But this… This was not what you wanted.

You wanted more.

Thinking about it for too long would only drag you back to where you didn’t need to be. It would only lead you to falling once again, falling for the exact person who you couldn’t barely control your heart rate around.

You needed to leave, and you needed to leave now.

Your heart felt like it was on fire as you walked through his house, finding your shoes, your bag, everything that physically belonged to you as you tried to hurry so you could escape the invisible confinements that you felt were constructing your chest the longer you lingered in the home.

It was funny – how you could find everything else, yet you couldn’t find the courage to just tell Calum how you felt.

But maybe you were about to finally get your chance.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?”

You felt your grip tighten around your jacket as you held it in your hand. It felt as though someone had just struck a match along your spine, your neck twinging instantly at the sound of his voice, your shoulders hunching up as you froze in place. You weren’t supposed to be caught leaving, you wanted to escape without being noticed, to find yourself in your car as you drove out of his driveway for the final time. It was going to be the last time, right? It had to be.

God, you felt like you were suffocating. The air felt thick yet so dry, your throat tightened as it searched for a breath, palms turning clammy as you stood with your back to him, eyes locked on the door a few metres in front of you. You should have been able to just slip right out, to walk away, but once again he caught you. You let him catch you.

This is your chance. He’s right there.

Just tell him.

You swore you could feel your heartbeat in your feet, each thud against your chest vibrated through your body, almost sure it felt as though the ground was shaking beneath you. But you had to swallow each thud, to push past it. You had to tell him before it got worse.

You had to tell him now.

“This has to stop, Cal,” You surprised yourself by the strength that stood behind your words, by the steady level at which you spoke. Sure, it wasn’t great, but it was more than what you were expecting. It wasn’t the first time you had said those words to him, it wouldn’t have been the first time that you had technically had this conversation.

But this wasn’t like the others. You couldn’t keep going the way that you were, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him and deny that you were falling in love with him. You could not hurt yourself any longer by forcing yourself to ignore how you felt towards a man who you knew did not feel the same way about you. So, when you said that you were done – you meant it this time.

You had to walk away.

“Are we really going to stand here and do this again?” His question seemed to roll off his tongue too easily, a slippery string of words that fell with a smoothness like silk. You could physically hear his shoulders sink with how he spoke, his physical movements were so predictable to you.

God, that infuriated you; how he could talk in such a way that lit a fire in your stomach both in rage and in desire.

No. No. No. Stop it. Just bite the bullet and tell him.

“No, we’re not,” You sighed, your hand clenching around your jacket a little tighter, eyes following the fabric as you moved lightly across the floor to rest it on the back of the couch to your right. You could still feel your heartbeat in your feet, your breath shaking a little in your chest as you swallowed a lump that threatened to grow within your throat. You needed to tell him everything, there was no point in hiding it anymore, you couldn’t bear the ache any longer. “But I am.”

Turning to face him was never something you feared. Well, that was until now. You were about to turn and destroy everything you and he had; you were moments away from ripping your own heart out right in front of him. And you weren’t even going to stop yourself. That was something to be afraid of, right?

Your throat felt sandpaper the moment his eyes met yours, the small distance that stood between the two of you felt so large, the tension that suddenly engulfed the room was uncomfortable, and you hated it. Nothing about him had ever made you feel like that, nothing about him had ever made you feel as though you were out of place. But that right there, that made you feel like you were a stranger standing in another stranger’s house.

Except he wasn’t a stranger. Fuck, it would have been so much easier if he were. But no, the man stood in front of you was Calum – the same Calum who had captured your heart and continued to toy with it and stomp on it without even realising.

“I can’t do this, I can’t be this person anymore,” Your eyes tore from him the moment the first syllable left your lips, knowing your words would only fall short and silent if you were to keep your eyes on him. You had to say it, by any means, and if that meant not looking at him then so be it. “It used to be so easy to just fall into bed with you, y’know that? All you had to do was smirk or something stupid like that and I’d just become putty in your hands.”

You wanted to laugh – you almost did. God, you wanted to laugh so much at the pure hysteria that was threatening to spill from every orifice of your body. You couldn’t believe you were doing this…

And so, you kept going.

“Every time I’ve found myself here, I kept telling myself that I was done with this,” You pointed between the two of you, index finger flickering between your bodies, tilting your head back as your glanced up at the ceiling, trying to keep your gaze from falling onto him, your nerves grasping onto some form of control as you tried to keep yourself together. Why did you feel like you were drowning? Like the water that was building up behind your eyes, the sting that was surfacing was the breaking point before you broke and drowned right where you stood?

God, why were you crying? You wanted this, didn’t you?

Well no, you didn’t want this. But you still wanted him.

“I can’t — I can’t even look at you anymore,” There it was, the first voice crack. The tears were building, your voice was growing shaky, and your emotions were piling up. “Because every time I look at you, it’s like I lose sense and I can’t think straight around you, and for once in my life when it comes to you I need to be able to get through what I want — no, what I need to say.” 

Calum so desperately wanted you to look at him, for your eyes to meet him like they usually would when you were together – like they would at the beginning before it all started. You were friends after all. Best friends in fact, and the act of you avoiding even looking at him hurt him more than he thought it would.

He could feel his jaw jumping as he looked at you, his toes subtly curling against the wooden floors as he stood there and let you talk. Every word that you spoke he swore he could hear echoing, as if every syllable was emphasised, each annunciation proving the point that you were trying to get across. 

His palms were sweating against his upper arms where they rested, fingers lightly and absentmindedly tapping away against the ink that decorated his upper arms. It was almost as if it was an attempt at a distraction — something to pull his mind back and to keep it from spiralling as he watched you grow more and more emotional with every word. 

“And you wanna know what the worst part of it is?” You practically forced the breath out of your chest, it almost sounded like a laugh. You gripped your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to calm the piece of trembling flesh as you silently told yourself to pull it together, to control yourself. But, how could you? You were stood barely a few metres from Calum and yet you swore you could feel his body heat against you, his scent following you around anywhere you walked in his home, the dark oaky cologne he always wore filled your nostrils especially when you tried so hard to ignore it. “It’s the fact that I think walking away from you is going to be easier.”

You should’ve walked out right then and there. You knew that. You should have just grabbed your jacket, picked up your bag, and walked right out of his house like you had originally set out to do. But what he said next had you still standing in place, eyes landing on his as the words fell from his lips like water, like they were the words he had been desperate to say since he walked out of that bedroom and saw you preparing to leave.

“And what about how I feel? Hm? Or does that simply not matter?” 

You couldn’t read the expression on his face when he fired that response in your direction. He sounded bitter, he sounded angry, and quite frankly he had a right to be. Or did he? 

“What if I wanted you stay because I lov— “ 

“Calum, you don’t get to decide,” You scoffed, cutting his words short, your head shaking as you continued to fight against your body’s desire to let your emotions run free, for the tears to finally break the seal of your eyes and cascade down yours cheeks as you poured your heart out right there in Calum’s living room. But no, you wanted to hold yourself together and control exactly where you were going with this admission, “You don’t get to tell me that you want me to stay when you can’t even—”

“I can’t even what?” Calum was not happy; you could see it in his eyes. The brown shade had grown darker, as if something had gone out behind them, the usual soft light had dulled down and instead hurt and a slight tinge of anger was starting to bubble up inside. You knew this was only going to get worse, the tension was going to bubble over, and one of you was going to get hurt. “I can’t have a say in this. You think that I don’t want to have a say in us, is that what it is? Is that really what you think I— “ 

“Don’t turn this on me—”

“Don’t turn this on you?!” Calum practically spat as he cut you off. His brows were raised, faint creases forming in the skin on his forehead as he stared at you with an expression that you hadn’t seen before on Calum – one that you didn’t want to see again. “You’re the one who is standing there telling me that I don’t get a say in whatever this is and you’re telling me not to turn this around on you? What am I supposed to do? Because if you expect me to stand here and simply let you walk away from me, you’ve got another fuckin’ thing comin’.”

“Calum, all we do is go in circles!” You couldn’t hold back your frustrations anymore, your hands coming up as they cupped around your face, the space between your thumb and index finger resting along the circumference of your face as you stared down at the floor briefly. You weren’t wrong… The two of you were like dogs chasing their own tails, constantly running in circles and enjoying the fun but in the end, all you were left with was a panting breath and a confusion. “We run around and around and around each other, and we go nowhere… We keep coming back to the same conversation, the same beds, the same temporary escape that quite frankly leaves me empty come the next morning. So, please, for the love of god, tell me what is so different this time when I tell you I want this to stop, that you think it gives you the right to tell me that I shouldn’t?”

Your eyes looked back up to meet his once again as you lost yourself in your words, each letter spitting from your tongue like a dart, the emotions taking full effect as a single tear broke free from your eye, the single droplet of salt spilled down your cheek as your eyes turned glossy. God, you were so close to breaking… but no, you had to hold it together.

You always had to hold it together. No… You wanted to hold it together, you never had to. You chose to.

Calum seemed a bit taken back by your words, by the fire that you spat them with. He could see the frustration growing on your face, he could sense it growing in your bones as your posture changed. You stood straight, your face was tense as your lips were pursed, and he could tell that you teeth were having a field day as they gnawed at the inside of your left cheek. You tried to hide it, but he knew you were doing it, he knew it was one of your habits that you fell into when you were mad. It scared him how well he knew you, almost swearing he knew you better than he knew himself.

But all best friends knew each other well, didn’t they? Or was this something else?

God, it felt like someone had their hand around his throat, squeezing the words that sat on the tip of his tongue. His chest was tight, like someone was pressing a hundred-pound weight down onto it, constricting him against the ground as he was held there against his will. 

You had stood in front of Calum a hundred times; you had been underneath Calum a hundred more. Calum had held you in almost every possible way, but the way he had you right there in front of him, vulnerable and exposed like you were, was new to him. He had seen you cry; he had seen you sob, but never because of him. 

He owed it to you to tell you how he felt — to give you the answer he had been hiding to a question that he had never been asked until now. Calum owed it to himself to allow his heart to feel something once again. And who better to do it for than the girl he knew now to feel the same way. 

All he had to do was say the few short words. A few short words to tell you how his heart exploded when you walked into a room, to tell you how your smile had him dreaming late at night, to tell you how the numerous unfinished music sheets scattered in his office contained lyrics about you. 

He just had to open his lips and let his heart speak, and so, that’s exactly what he did. 

“Because this time I’m telling you that I’m in love with you,”

That was it. His big secret was out. In a simple string of words, he had just told you the exact thing that kept him up at night, the exact thing that scared him more than anything ever could.

He loved you. Calum loved you.

“And I know I’ve always said how love is a waste of time, how it’s nothing but a scam, but there’s just something about you that makes me feel like maybe there is such a thing… And that I’m starting to feel it again,” You didn’t even register how his voice had gotten softer when he spoke, a familiar gentleness gracing his voice as he spoke to you, the previous irritation seeming to vanish with the click of a finger. You watched as he took a few steps towards you, a small distance remaining, eyes still connected with yours, his own searching for something in yours that he wasn’t exactly sure of. He just needed to be closer to you in that moment, to be in front of you and assure himself that this wasn’t a dream. “Every time I look at you, it’s like I’ve been reminded of how great love can be, of how it feels to wake up next to someone and realise that they are the person you want to be with.”

You swore you felt the ground disappear from under you, leaving you standing on air, floating almost as you mind blanked at his words. You felt like you were dreaming, his words taking a moment to sink in and even after a moment had passed, they were still lingering right there, as if someone were dangling them in front of you like a cat with a piece of string.

He had just said… Calum had just said he loved you.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You didn’t even realise you had asked the question before you heard the final word leave your lips, your voice soft and quiet, as if you were scared to ask it. You swallowed slightly, trying to moisten your throat to fight the dryness that threatened to strip it.

“I didn’t want to risk losing you… I knew you felt the same as I did about love and relationships and that’s why we worked at first. But then, I started noticing how you looked at me different, how you seemed to freeze whenever I called you ‘sweetheart’ and I guess I was just scared…Funny that, isn’t it?” Calum let out a breath that almost sounded like a sigh, allowing for his feet to take the final few steps so he stood in front of you, a few mere centimetres between you. He was close enough that the scent of him was stronger, the familiar musk that you had become so familiar with practically burned your nose deliciously. You swore you could’ve gotten drunk off his scent, the smell itself so intoxicating, you were certain it had more of an effect that any alcohol did. You felt your neck crane up as he stopped in front of you, eyes never leaving his as he looked down so his gaze rested on your face, eyes softening at the sight of your eyes glimmering in the morning light that shone through the windows of his home. “I was scared of letting you know how I felt so I decided to keep it hidden as if that would make it better because I knew that I’d rather go through the hell of you never knowing how I felt if it meant that I got to keep you around without the risk of losing you.”

Why did this feel so surreal – like at a moment’s notice it was all going to swiped away from you and erased from your memory as if it never happened. But, when you felt his hand touch yours, his warm skin against yours, you knew this wasn’t a dream. This was very real.

It almost seemed too easy to have everything right there, to have everything simply fall into place like it had right in that very moment. How funny was it that you both felt that way and yet you were both too afraid to confess such a thing until now?

You both needed to talk properly, you knew you did. But right now, you just wanted to bask in that little moment that was shared between the two of you, to enjoy the little glances you stole and the little smirk that was threatening to curl at the side of Calum’s lips at the sight of you mirroring the exact same expression back at him.

“So, what’re we supposed to do now?” You asked, subconsciously slipping your palm against his, twisting your hands so they linked together, fingers interlacing as you enjoyed the familiar nip of cold that his rings gave against your warm limb. You shouldn’t have been surprised he fell asleep with them on, he always did that.

Funnily enough, that was something you always noticed about him. Maybe you both knew each other better than you thought you did.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I really want to kiss you right now if you’ll let me,”

You wanted to scoff at his response, rolling your lips into your mouth almost amused by the light bounce of his brows and slight pout of his lips as he tilted his head to the side to get a better look at you. You cleared your throat, poking your tongue through your teeth as you held back a laugh before responding, “Nothing’s ever stopped you before, has it?”

“You’ve got a point.” Calum jutted out his bottom lip ever so slightly, tilting his head to the side in a simple nod as he gave a shrug of his shoulders.

You felt his hands slip your waist, the departure of his hand from yours leaving your palm empty and slightly cold so you rested them on his shoulders instead, finding the warmth of his skin once more, smiling at the familiarity that had become pleasant to feel unlike it was this morning. You watched as he leaned in, the distance between you both closing in and lessening, the warmth of his breath being felt gently against your face as he neared you.

It wasn’t your first kiss with Calum but, god, it felt like it was. You felt like you were thirteen again, hiding out as you kissed a boy behind the climbing frame so you wouldn’t be caught for a stupid game of truth or dare.

But this wasn’t a childish game of truth or dare. This was you and Calum, standing in front of each other after months of unknown chasing, finally looking each other in the eyes as you acknowledged how you both felt. You were both in love with each other and had so much to explore, you had a whole new side of one another to explore and learn about. And you couldn’t wait to get started.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face when you felt his lips against yours, your eyes gently falling closed as your hands slid along his broad, strong shoulders to rest against his neck, thumbs resting against his cheeks, feeling the beginning of stubble that was starting to grow. His lips fit between yours perfectly like they were a perfect fitting puzzle piece, completing the picture that you both had unknowingly been desperate to finish since the beginning. The kiss was soft, it was full, it was everything that either of you didn’t know you could share with one another.

It was perfect like every other kiss you and Calum had shared, except there was something so slightly different about this one. With every other kiss, you had the same question of what kept you coming back lingering in the back of your mind. Every morning when you woke up, you had silently and secretly asked yourself why you kept finding yourself back with him. You naturally assumed it was because you felt something, that you searched for something that you believed you would never receive in return.

But maybe… Just maybe… It wasn’t feelings. Maybe it was simply just Calum. He was why you came back, not because of how you felt about him, but because of him. Calum had you coming back to him every time without even trying, and now he had you right there again.

But this time, he didn’t have to get you to come back because he had you, and you weren’t going anywhere.

---

If you made it to the end of this, thank you! This ended up being a lot longer than I had anticipated, but I’d really appreciate any feedback, thoughts, or comments! Thank you!

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[goosegoblin]

Ten things to do while you’re on an ADHD service waiting list

Finally realising you have a disorder and then realising it could take over a year before anyone helps you really, really sucks. I thought I’d write a guide of things you can do in the wait period to keep yourself sane and try and make some progress.

1) Join ADHD online support groups. I know it’s Reddit, but reddit.com/r/ADHD is a really great board. It has a great blend of ‘DAE...’ type posts and actual advice, and the mods are really good at not letting it turn into one-upping or learned helplessness. There are groups on basically every social media site you can think of and then some, so look around until you find somewhere that feels good.

2) Join offline ADHD support groups. I can’t overstate how much this has helped me. Search ‘ADHD support [your area]’ and see what’s around. I only went to a couple of IRL meet-ups, but it felt like meeting family. We were all late and got lost and talked too much and spilled things and nobody minded because we were all home. 

3) If possible, be physically active. Yeah, I know, you’re rolling your eyes right now. Still, this is one of those things that’s scientifically proven to help. Try stuff out and see what works for you. If nothing else, download Pokemon Go (it’s kind of good now!) and go for a walk. I find that, whilst I’m often reluctant to go to the gym, my brain is a lot more ordered and willing to co-operate after I’ve been.

4) Learn to recognise RSD. RSD stands for ‘rejection sensitive dysphoria’, and refers to a phenomenon seen in people with ADHD where we take criticism very, very seriously. Someone gently pointing out an area you aren’t doing great in might feel like being shot in the stomach. This is hard, and it doesn’t go away overnight, but identifying it is step one in learning to de-fuse from the thoughts it offers. I like using ACT techniques here- look up ‘thought defusion’ to learn more.

5) Give up old ways that do not work for you. Listen. I know you’ve tried to keep a bullet journal six times now. I know that every time, you spent eight hours designing it perfectly, then lost interest within four days. I get it. I’ve been there. Your brain is not neurotypical (NT), and you can’t force it to be behave like it is. That means you might have to come up with your own systems, and they might look broken and bizarre to NT people, but if they work for you, they aren’t. 

6) Buy/ read ‘Unfuck Your Habitat’. I think this book should be required reading for everyone with executive dysfunction, to be honest. If you can’t afford the book and your library doesn’t have it, then there’s lots of great content on the UFYH website and blog.

7) Identify time traps. You set your alarm for an hour before you had to leave, didn’t do anything differently to normal, but were somehow half an hour late. Why? How? Try and think of what you might do that makes you ‘lose time’. For many of us (myself firmly included), it’s ‘the internet’. Once you’ve identified these, be cautious about using them when you know you’re tight on time. If nothing else, set an alarm for ten minutes or so to prevent you from accidentally spending forty-five minutes reading Wikipedia pages about nuclear disasters.

8) Keep a distraction notepad nearby. Are you trying to do work but you just keep thinking of other exciting/important things you need to do/look up right now? Keep a notepad or word document nearby and write down these ideas/ thoughts as they arise. That way, you know you won’t forget about them, and you can keep focusing on what you’re meant to be doing. (Spoiler alert: you will end up not looking up half of these things because you realise they don’t actually matter)

9) Experiment with caffeine. People with ADHD have a different reaction to caffeine than NT people do, to the extent that coffee is even used as a treatment for children with ADHD. The flipside of this is that many people with ADHD struggle with anxiety, and too much caffeine makes this worse. If you struggle more with anxiety, reduce your caffeine intake; if you struggle more with executive dysfunction or an inability to focus, try adding in more. The line between ‘extra productivity’ and ‘oh good, a panic attack’ can be a thin one, but caffeine can be an excellent tool when used well.

10) Allow yourself time to grieve. This happens even more after you actually get diagnosed in my experience, but it’s relevant here too. I’ve often said that being diagnosed with a condition later in life does somewhat push you through the stages of grief. If you feel angry that nobody picked this up earlier, or depressed that your brain will be like this forever, or you flip-flop between believing you have ADHD and being in complete and utter denial: that is normal. You’ll hit acceptance eventually, I promise. For now, be patient with yourself, and understand that how you’re feeling is okay and alright.

I could list a bunch more of these, but hopefully there’s some stuff there to get you started and keep you sane. I tried not to put in anything too overwhelming or too specific- though, of course, you’ll likely find some of these apply more than others. I know this wait period will feel horribly, impossibly long, but you are strong and you can do impossible things. I’m proud of you.

[enigmaris]

Holiday Truce Gift!

Here’s my gift for @voidetrap. 

I hope you enjoy the fic! I’ve never written anything about Wes before so I hope I I met your expectations!!

The fic is Wes Weston vs. Jazz Fenton.

Check it out below the cut!

Why No One Believes Wes Weston:

Wes settled down into the chair, his heavy backpack clanking as he placed it on the floo beside him. He had to be careful, if he damaged any of his camera equipment, he wouldn’t have the chance to catch Fenton in the act. Last time Fenton had purposefully transformed in front of him when he saw that his camera’s lens was broken.

The bastard.

After Wes had confronted Fenton for the first time, Fenton had started messing with him consistently. Wes hadn’t gone to the rest of the school with his suspicions, and he wouldn’t until he had real evidence. Which is what the cameras were for. Soon enough he’d record the transformation and then it would be undeniable.

Not that Wes was planning on hunting Fenton down right then. No. He was here for a tutoring session. The tutoring sessions were held in one of the older classrooms, that went more or less unused since the ghost Poindexter had had his old locker moved in there by the principle and claimed it as his own. Despite this the ghost was hardly ever even there, but his haunted locker gave most everyone the creeps.  Other than the old locker the classroom was filled with wooden desks and chairs and an old dirty chalkboard. Wes had never actually been in this room before but it looked like most every other classroom in the school.

His grades in science were slipping and his teacher had promised him extra credit if he attended five sessions. She’d been offering that deal to every student, but most kids didn’t take her up on it because tutoring was the lamest way to spend an afternoon. Wes had done it to get his parents off his back. He didn’t know who was running the session, maybe one of the biology teachers, and he didn’t much care. He just had to get through an hour of this and then he could get back to following Fenton around for evidence. The door to the classroom opened and Wes looked up to see one other student walk in.

Jazz Fenton.

Dubbed the hottest senior girl by Wes’ gym class, Jazz Fenton was the anomaly of the Fenton Family. She wasn’t weird, she didn’t scream about ghosts or have to go to the bathroom constantly. She was also human and not a ghost masquerading as a human. She was beautiful, intelligent, and kind. People liked Jazz Fenton and Wes was no exception. He just wondered if she knew what her brother was. Was she even safe from him in Fentonworks?

“Oh!” She said. “Someone’s here.”

“Do people not normally come?”

“Oh, only around finals.” She joked. “What’s your name?”

“W…Wes. Wes Weston.”

“Alright Wes. What class are you in?”

“Chemistry.”

“Mrs. Anderson’s class?” She asked and Wes nodded in lieu of an answer. “Well great! I know what section you’re on then, open up your textbook and let’s get started.”

Wes pulled his textbook out of his bag and listened to Jazz begin to tutor him on stoichiometry. Wes sort of understood what that was but that didn’t mean he was any good at it. It relied on a lot of math that had never been Wes’ strong suit. He’d totally bombed the quiz on it last week and he was almost grateful to be getting the review. She wrote out a few practice problems and walked him through it very carefully. Wes followed along step by step, enjoying having her pretty eyes on him and listening to her friendly voice. Once she was sure he’d gotten it, she gave him a few to do on his own.

“So. Are you the only tutor?” Wes asked.

He wondered if he should tell her what he knew. Maybe then she could help him. Besides if her brother was dead then she needed to know. Living in denial couldn’t be good for anyone.

Wasn’t she all about psychology anyway? She’d love the warning!

“Yep. No one else wants to stay at school after hours since there’s more ghost activity in the late afternoons. Poindexter usually comes by but he and I have an agreement.” She answered. “I volunteered to do most of the afterschool work. It looks good on college applications too.”

“You know you’re pretty cool.” Wes said, trying to subtly warn Fenton’s hot and awesome sister that her younger brother was actually a ghost. “Normal, I mean. Danny’s a bit...”

The girl stiffened and then looked at the Wes with the fakest calm look Wes had ever seen. She looked frightened, as if Wes was threatening her.

“What are you talking about?” She squeaked. “Danny is the normal one.”

What?

Wes spent the rest of the tutoring session in a daze, asking questions and trying to understand why Jazz had reacted like that. Jazz spent the rest of it emphasizing how normal Danny was compared to her, just a normal boy with normal abilities.

She knew.

And what’s worse, she didn’t care.

If Jazz Fenton considered Danny normal then…

Then what was she?

When Wes got home, he started to frantically pace his room. Think Wes. Think. Jazz Fenton seemed normal. She wasn’t a ghost, Wes’ ghost detection equipment would’ve went off around her like it did Danny. So, then what? She was beautiful, pale, intelligent, and most people just got lost in her eyes when she talked. What if she was using some sort of mind control? What if people only thought she was pretty because she had something supernatural going on?

How deep did this thing go?

Wes put a picture of Jazz, taken from the online newspaper from the time she won the science fair, on his cork board and started sticking post-it notes around her, listing out everything he could possibly think of to describe Jazz. Mesmerizing. Strong. Capable. Smart. Welcoming.  As he muttered to himself, he started connecting various lists together using yarn. By the end of it, Wes looked up at his tangled mess and gasped.

“No. No. No.”

It can’t be.

He rushed over to his computer and brought up google. He typed in a search term and looked at the various Wikipedia articles that came up all while denying his conclusions.  

Strong.

Pale.

Beautiful.

Intelligent.

It was all there.

“Jazz Fenton is a vampire.”

He felt a trickle of fear run down his spine. Ghosts. Ghosts Wes could handle. Everyone in Amity knew how to handle ghosts. If you had ghost weapons you fired, if you didn’t you ducked out of the way and waited for someone who did. But vampires? No. That was new. That was dangerous. No one had vampire hunting equipment in Amity. Why would they?

They’d need them now.

Where were her fangs? Obviously, she wore fake teeth, or maybe they could retract to a normal length when she wasn’t feeding. Wes had seen Jazz Fenton fight ghosts with a whip, no one human could be that strong and that skinny. It was all coming together. The Fentons had adopted two undead teenagers and Jazz thought Danny was the more normal one because he was at least human half the time.

Now Wes just had to prove it.

The next day at school Wes snuck around at lunch trying to catch Jazz Fenton in the act of not eating or drinking blood or something. He didn’t even know where to start and he had to be careful. One false move and she’d be on his neck and then it would be game over. Wes couldn’t die, not when something as dangerous as a vampire walked among them. He didn’t see her in the lunchroom though. He also didn’t see Danny. He frowned and snuck out of the cafeteria. It didn’t take long to find the two Fenton teens talking to each other in an empty hallway.

“I’m serious Danny. The guy asked so many weird questions.”

“It’s just Wes.” Danny scoffed. “He’s not going to figure it out.”

“What if he does? We can’t let this get out, what about our-”

“Jazz. I swear he’s not going to hurt you or anyone else. He’s harmless.”

Wes narrowed his eyes. He’d show Danny harmless.

“Okay. I just. With information like that he could really hurt you.”

“You should be worried about yourself. You’re the one who has to interact with him for hours at a time. Don’t let him get to you. Don’t give anything away.”

The two teens kept talking about but it stopped being interesting, so Wes snuck back without them being aware that he’d listened in from behind a corner. He sat back down in the cafeteria and pulled out his notebook. He grabbed a cheap clicker pen and started to write out on the top of a clean page.

How to hunt a vampire:

1)      Garlic:

      a.      Wear garlic necklace (or put garlic in pocket) to next tutoring session.                   Look for averse reaction to smell.

2)      Cross:

      a.      Borrow mom’s cross and hide it in palm, shake hands with potential                     vampire, look for burns

3)      Sunlight??

      a.      Are vampires weak to sunlight? Jazz Fenton never seen outside on                     sunny day, always studying? Potential hazard? Open blinds during                       tutoring?

            i.      Warning could be defeated by thick sunscreen, check for zinc smell.

4)      Holy water?

      a.      Need to go to church with parents.

            i.      Plan heist of cathedral???

5)      Mirror:

      a.      Test for reflection

6)      Invitation:

      a.      Does Jazz need to be welcomed into a home to enter?

            b.      How to test??

                       i.      Hold a party?

It was a start Wes thought. He could try the first two easily tomorrow at his next tutoring session.

Wes’ mom kept asking him why he needed the garlic in the pantry, but she let him have it and she didn’t even notice that he’d borrowed her rosary. Wes kept the garlic in his pockets all day and occasionally rubbed it on his skin just so that he smelt very thickly of garlic. People avoided him in the hallways which meant he knew it was working. When the tutoring session started, Wes held out a hand, rosary hidden in his palm. Jazz saw it though and paused.

“Is that a cross?” She asked instead of shaking his hand. “It looks nice.”

“Don’t like crosses?”

“I’m not very religious.”

Right.

Test 1 failed.

At least he still had the garlic.

He put the rosary back into his pocket and pulled out his work. He’d placed a fan in the room so that it was blowing air from him to Jazz, ensuring the scent of garlic was going directly to her face. She didn’t seem to notice at first. But within a few minutes Wes noticed her sniffing.

“Do you smell something?”

“Uh no?”

“Oh. Must be some phantom smell. My parents experiments sometimes smell horrible and it sticks with me for hours after.”

Her parents made her immune to garlic. Damn.

The next tests were also not very successful. He couldn’t get her to look at a mirror without it sounding weird and the classroom didn’t have any reflective surfaces. He asked his parents if he could hold a party and they said no, he had after all gone home covered in garlic and gotten her rosary tainted with garlic smell. He tried to get Jazz to touch crosses multiple more times, but she always managed to slither her way out of it.

Fenton noticed Wes’ suspicions and got really protective. He kept Wes from doing anything to Jazz outside of the tutoring sessions.  

It all came to a head two weeks after Wes’ discovery.

He hadn’t slept well in days. Nights were filled with fears and doubts about vampires and ghosts. If ghosts and vampires were real then what else was? Bigfoot? Werewolves? Mermaids? How many things were trying to kill people? How was no one else noticing this? Were they all blind?

He saw Jazz Fenton drinking a red liquid from a thermos during lunch and snapped.

“THAT’S IT!” He shouted loud enough to be heard throughout the cafeteria. Everyone quieted down. “EVERYONE LISTEN UP! I HAVE SOME IMPORTANT INFORMATION ABOUT JAZZ FENTON!”

Wes stood up and climbed onto the top of his lunch table. He struck a very dramatic pose and pointed at Jazz.

“She is a vampire!”

A beat of silence and then the entire school burst into laughter.

“No No! Look, she’s drinking blood!”

“It’s tomato soup.” Jazz denied. “Look.”

She thrust the open thermos over to one of her table mates who sniffed it and confirmed it was tomato soup.

“I’ve never seen you in the sun!”

“I’m on the school’s swim team.” She argued. “Get plenty of sun that way. Wait is that why you kept thrust a cross in my face?”

“Oh my gosh.” Danny said loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re crazy next thing you’re going to be telling all of us that I’m a ghost!”

He then laughed loudly and the entire school followed suit, even Dash was willing to laugh along with Danny at the expense of Wes.

And from that day onward no one ever believed the boy-who-cried-vampire.

[sovengarde]

i hate to vent in public but at this point my notes app is filling up and i have no where else to let this out

i really fucking hate being mentally ill. i fucking hate that i blow up at small things and push everyone away. i always fuck everything up, one way or another. everything is always my fault.

my mother has a friend she wants us to stay with but i hate it over there. im trying not to sound like some stoner cali dude but literally the vibe there makes me physically sick. by the time we're leaving, or fuck even before then, im just so drained of any energy it's not even funny. like i cant fall asleep to save my life but as soon as we get home im passed out, provided i didnt do that in the car.

but because the situation at home isnt great either she wanted us to stay with her. and normally i just say no i dont and it never really escalates but when the whole fight that happened last week between my mother and grandfather that denial was fought by her. i told her i didnt want to go into detail and she got upset but i figured it wouldnt be a problem like any other time.

so she leaves for a week to spend some time there and i locked myself in my room for the week. it felt nice to be by myself and not on edge all the time. because being around her is also draining. fuck she even said she had an amazing time. i've been trying to convince her to go back next week lol.

i walk on eggshells around my own mother. anytime she does anything remotely wrong i have to just sit and take it, because god forbid i bring up any concern to her. she shuts down and then a few hours later im being guilt tripped into apologizing. lather rinse repeat for the 19 years ive been alive.

honestly i wouldve rather have been raised like she was and not allowed to talk about anything at all. rather than her telling me i can talk about anything and when i actually do she throws it back into my face and blows up at me.

i have so many vivid memories of her losing her shit over things ive said. like the time i first came out and she screamed at me that i wasnt transgender bc i didnt fit the fuckin description of the 2 episodes of i am jazz she watched.

or when i told her about my suicidal thoughts and i had to coax her into the driveway bc she was standing in the street saying stuff like "well i should just let a car run me over!"

oh and then the time where she was screaming though the walls of my bedroom that "you should just get emancipated! how about you just fucking leave!" i used to have a fuckin recording of that but when my fb got closed i lost it.

just recently with my new psychiatrist i told her about the bpd diagnosis, side note i fuckin knew i had it since 10th grade, her gut reaction was "yea well i have all kinds of cancer! sorry go on" she fuckin """""""apologized"""""" after that. that literally told me her actual thoughts on my mental health, and that either she doesnt believe me or just doesnt fucking care

and then if i bring it up and she gaslights me telling me that shed never say anything like that. listen idk if you know this but traumatic events kinda stick in your brain for your entire life. i can hear her screaming at me when i think about these times, i can almost see it, it's like im actually there again.

but of course it's always my fault. shes on the phone with my aunt i think talking about "well that plans just not gonna happen." so blatantly in front of me. sitting in the bathroom of her office building damn near nauseous from the stress and then were gonna go home and shes either gonna keep being angry or try and act like itll never happen.

shit like this is why im constantly high now. because at least she'll leave me alone when im high. honestly with how things are going my racist, transphobic, and man baby grandfather starts to look less horrible compared to her. because at least he wont fuckin allow me to let my guard down and then spit in my face.

im so fucming exhausted, im quite literally at my wits end. ive only been in such a deep depression in highschool and i tried to game end myself. literally what the fuck am i supposed to do. i only have like 1 friend i can talk to and i hate putting shit on her, shes got enough on her plate as is. i dont have a therapist anymore. my psychiatrist doesnt like to talk about what's going on bc hes afraid of weed and only schedules meetings that are 30 minutes long.

worst part is i cant fuckin cry. i wanna let these emotions out but after years of pushing them down my """""""normal""""""" is unbareable numbness. i dont feel anything whatsoever. i react inappropriately in most situations. im just in a constant detached state, when i finally see through my own thick shit im terrified of who ive become, that is if i can even recognize my own face.

but from a very early age it was beaten into me that showing weakness to anyone will get me hurt so i stopped. moms even commented that i dont react in normal ways. shes told me she doesnt believe i have panic attacks as often as i do because im not outwardly freaking out. firstly theres multiple kinds of panic attacks. secondly everytime im shaking and suffocating i get yelled at. told im making too big a deal out of what's going on and that i need to stop. so i fuckin suppressed it.

but of course it's all my fault for being actually unable to regulate my fucking emotions and for being so distant and unstable all the time. it’s funny when im not making up my own problems actual issues destroy me. idk man im just. im really tired. 

[nehawriter16]

5.11.19 - my life is falling apart and other updates.

Hello internet.

Just wanted to talk today. I like Tumblr because not many people I know follow me on here. Also there isn’t a word limit, and sometimes a girl just wants to rant.

So this is me releasing all my thoughts into the world today.

1. ACADEMICS

I quit chartered accountancy. Just woke up one day, and told my parents I couldn’t do it anymore. That was a long week at home, and I know they’re disappointed in me. All along I’ve been a bright student, somebody who never disappointed and they could brag about at dinner parties. But this course cut me open. It hurt me, it sent me crumbling and it dragged me through hell. In the movie Dear Zindagi, Alia Bhatt is in therapy and Shahrukh Khan tells her that sometimes we keep doing the hard thing because we think we have to. And we forget that its okay to pick an easy way. I guess that’s what I’m doing. I’m choosing the easier way because the harder way made me unhappy, it made me unhappy to the point where I didn’t want to be alive anymore.

So the new plan is that I will give my GRE and apply to Masters in Finance courses in the US. Preferably in the STEM field, because its easy to get a work visa after graduating if you’re a STEM graduate. Do I think this is the perfect career path for me? No, absolutely not. But do I think it will do me good to finally move the fuck out of home, have a change of continent, meet some new people, and have the college experience I always felt I missed out on? Yes.

So this is what we’re doing. My GRE is in 12 days. I am barely prepared.

2. DRIVE/PASSION

I always had a passion for writing. I knew when I discovered it that it not only brought me joy, but I was pretty damn good at it. Unfortunately being brown, and coming from a family of people who had all built their career from scratch by making practical decisions, because they didn’t have a choice due to their humble backgrounds, I was always told that writing was a futile thing and would just be a hobby, not something to be looked at as a career option. I disagreed. Having made a bit of money from it now, I still disagree.

But I’ve been brought up in the lap of luxury and I have a pretty high standard of living. I like my weekly Starbucks and I go to bars that don’t have happy hours. I enjoy the bimonthly staycation in a fancy hotel, and I hate repeating outfits and thoroughly enjoy fashion, so I’m always buying new clothes. It makes me happy to look good.

So yeah, I agree that since I haven’t had the liberty to pursue writing full time, I haven’t yet found a way to make a living from it. Maybe it’s a risk, and a back up plan is advisable. But all I know is writing is the only thing I feel like waking up to do. Even now, when my life is falling apart, it’s the only thing that makes sense to me.

Growing up I was always a hardworking student. And if I wasn’t, my Mom made me that way. She would yell if I got bad marks, and she always encouraged that I at least be in the top ten in class. Even the school I went to was pretty much only concerned with academics. And so due to the environment and brainwashing, I did well. I stayed in the 90 percent lane all my life, all the way up to twelfth grade. In my junior college I had two of the worst years of my life. I was molested by my co caption for months on end, and I couldn’t escape him. It was constant mental, emotional and physical turmoil, more so because I couldn’t tell anyone. Despite how insanely difficult it was to spend six hours every day in the place where my molester showed up every day, I still managed to keep my grades high. I scored 92 percent, and my parents were happy.

I had no passion for finance, but since I had proved to be so bright, my parents said the only thing to do now was four years of Chartered Accountancy. After that, my life would be sorted. I passed the first level by studying for 2 months, while other people attended classes for a year. I passed the second level too. I got into one of the biggest global multiconsulting firms in the world for my internship, and my parents were happy. My life was on track, and it didn’t matter that I was crying in the cabs home from work because I was so miserable. It didn’t matter as long as the plan was being followed. After all, the plan was being followed and I was so goddamn close to the finish line.

Two years into my internship I decided I needed to quit, or at least shift to a smaller firm. The pressures in this one were too much and I was so sad I could barely make it out of bed. So I told my parents I needed to study for my finals, and they got me out of it. My mental health was derailing – but oh boy, was this just the beginning. I moved to a smaller firm and pretended to stay home on the weekends and study. Instead, all I did was lay in bed with YouTube videos playing on loop because I couldn’t bear to be alone with my thoughts.

2017 was the year my boyfriend broke up with me too, so all kinds of shit was hitting the fan at the same time. I was fucked up in every way. I started using alcohol to fall asleep, to wake up, to do pretty much anything actually. To engage in social situations, I’d carry around a quarter in my bag and drink it in the cab. It eased my anxiety and helped me smile at people in a more convincing way.

2018 sucked. So did 2019. These two years are a blurry flatline in my head. I have been drowning like the ground I walk on is quicksand, and the more I struggle to get out, the more it pulls me in. When I look back at my life’s work in the past two years, I see nothing. Nothing that counts as an achievement anyway.

I wasted them while everybody else was putting in the work to get into ivy league schools or pass exams, get their first real jobs kickstarted. I lay in bed and watched every tv show there was to watch with the curtains drawn. I ran through horrible men and gave my body up to practical strangers that I felt nothing for, and the ones I liked left me, like they always do. Yeah, I wrote two books. Made enough money to support my alcohol addiction, my shopping habits, my vacations and staycations. I blew it all off on the temporary ride of whatever would bring me happiness in the moment.

I lost myself. I lost myself to illness and addiction and worthless friends and denial. I’m still lost. I used to have a drive in my body, something that said wake up and get things done today. Instead, I’ve been doing the zombie shuffle through my own life. Sometimes I wake up and my first thought is – “How long till this day is over.” I count the hours until I can crawl back into bed, till its an acceptable time to go to sleep. Because the only place I don’t feel like my brain has a fucking dense fog rolling through it is when I’m sleeping.

I used to be brilliant, and I’ve lost my shine. I’ve lost my willpower, my ability to be the hardest working person in the room. I have gotten self destructive to the point where I procrastinate and procrastinate and then it’s too late for everything. I am so fucked up, you have no idea.

I don’t know what I should do to bring that feeling of wanting to do something perfectly back. You know, the feeling of studying so hard you know everything on the test. The feeling of being the best, no questions asked. The feeling of answering questions in class and submitting assignments on time and just…enjoying the process of academia that I used to love so much. But I guess in depression, your brain sort of grows old and tired. It can’t remember things. It doesn’t want to move, or think, or do anything difficult.

My memory is deteriorating and the moments I’m supposed to remember and the information I should retain? It gets lost more often than not. And I am so scared to assess the scale of this incompetency that I just don’t even try because whenever I do, it’s all so overwhelming and all the trauma from Chartered Accountancy comes swirling back to hit me in the head.

3. BODY IMAGE

As a result of my constant sadness, I had to find ways to make myself happy. The periods of happiness lasted for a short while, but I rode the highs to the fullest because I knew the darkness would be back eventually. I turned to alcohol and marijuana and nicotine, to the point where every three or four days I would need one or the other, if not all three in combination. I would drink every night to be able to fall asleep. In my cupboard there is a special collection of all the wine bottles that have acted as sleeping pills.

I also began to eat junk food, because carbohydrates make you happy before they make you feel like shit. All addictions are like that, actually. Swiggy was my best friend, and my array of lovers : greasy Chinese, McDonalds, any dessert place – just whatever was bad for your skin, fattening, but would be brought to you by a wonderful man on a bike no matter what the weather was, and was easy to eat and throw all evidence of out later and forget that somewhere on my body, this food would settle into another ugly layer.

In the middle I got sick of myself and went to the gym, started going at it hard. My body improved and the endorphins were definitely helping, but a few months in I stopped waking up. My brain said it didn’t want to anymore, and I, the slave to my depression, caved and listened. I haven’t been since. The swiggy orders keep coming in every day and I keep throwing the containers into the trash, changing quickly from one outfit into another so I don’t have to see what I look like naked.

But I know. I somehow hate myself for the disgust I have for certain parts of my body, and then for the part of me that knows it wants to “fix” them all, but is in constant battle with the part of me that says I shouldn’t feel guilty for taking up space or for being a curvy girl. But body positivity isn’t about a number on a scale, its just about whether you like your reflection in the mirror, whether it makes you happy. Mine hasn’t made me happy in a long time. But then again, what the fuck has?

Sometimes I’m in trial rooms with harsh lighting and I just stare at myself and call myself horrible names. I keep the lights off when boys come over and the clothes come off. I keep saying, “I have to lose 10 kgs,” but I keep ordering from Swiggy every time a depressive episode rolls in to make it go away.

I keep setting deadlines, like, “After this month, I will cut out sugar!” and “After this exam, I will go back to the gym!” but then I fuck up and I’m like, oh well. Maybe next month.

The bottom line is I despise my body and the way it’s started to look. It doesn’t help that my Instagram feed is full of women with perfect skin, defined abs, and perky butts with chiselled features. I want all of that. I want to feel beautiful, and beautiful is hard work. Which, of course, my brain pines after, but never actually lets me get out of bed to do.

4. DATING/LOVE

My last serious relationship ended in 2017. I briefly dated somebody exclusively in the beginning of 2019, but he turned out to be the biggest asshole of them all, and “didn’t realise” he was using me to get over his ex-girlfriend. He broke up with me over text, pretty much cheated on me, didn’t even explain himself until I found out from some mutual friends. After that I was done, I couldn’t take love anymore. I couldn’t let anybody in because every relationship I’ve ever been in has ended with me being the second choice or me being dumped or betrayed and left hurt and broken for years.

The trauma is too much. So I decided I was never going to let anybody leave me again or enter my life and find a permanent place in it. I became the biggest fuckboy of them all, despite my conscience that has always been a good, kind and sensitive thing. This player thing really isn’t for me, but it was fun for a while to trump boys and play mind games and make them feel inadequate about themselves, to stand them up and never call back and ask them to leave my house after I had gotten what I wanted, to only call when I wanted it again.

I purposely picked out the worst, baddest ones. Then I tamed them by being even worse than they were. In May I began speaking to somebody who was fun and hilarious and good looking and well off and who made my brain feel alive again. Every time he texted me I caught myself smiling, and all our conversations consisted of saying witty sarcastic things to each other. We went on one date and he kissed me in the car, but for some reason in real life his life was so different from mine, that I declared the kiss good (he put his hand in my hair and grabbed, in a non hurtful but very I’m-super-into-this way, ooofff) and the date a disaster. I don’t know whether I was just in denial of my now strongly sprouting crush, or whether I actually hated it.

As the months passed, I tried to get him to go out with me again. I’m not much of a pursuer, because I have always been the one who gets pursued. But this boy was different. We would talk a lot over DM and we would make fun of each other and his life was fabulous and exciting and I watched from the outside, and built him into a much grander version of who he is in real life. I do that. What made him even more attractive was that he didn’t want me, and I couldn’t figure out for the love of God why not. I thought I was the whole package, and I even started to act out a little bit in the psycho way he told me he liked his women, which is SO TOXIC but I had actually felt something for somebody after so long that I didn’t even backtrack. Anyway, it soon became clear that it was not going to lead anywhere because he just disappointed me, didn’t show up, and my ego took a hit. I let it go, mostly. Or I will, as time passes.

I think I deserve love. Not the makes you feel good and carries your bag when its heavy kind. I deserve the love that I am ready to give – the grand romantic gestures that would be so dumb, but somehow he makes them work. The cant live without you love. The we’re best friends and teammates and nothing, not even distance, not our past demons, will keep us from making it work. I want the kind of person who is so sure of who they are, so internally confident, and so absolutely sure that I am their soulmate that I convinces me. I don’t want to meet a lot of wrong boys, goddamnit. I’ve done my fair share of the wrong boys, I’ve paid my dues for the amount of hurt one person is supposed to have. Now I just want the right one.

Deep down, I know he’s not here. Not in this city, because that would just be a cruel joke. Imagine meeting your soulmate and then having to go to college in six months. Fucking shit. If the universe even pities me a little bit, it wont do that to me.

I sometimes wonder if my life only stays on track if my romantic life is going well. I mean, when I dated my last serious boyfriend, I had it all – I was skinny. I had a prestigious internship. I was passing my exams. The writing was flourishing. This is a very scary thought, because I don’t want to depend or co exist on somebody else for my happiness in any way. But I cant deny the fact that my entire life fell apart when that last boy, who I loved with all my heart, broke up with me. It hasn’t been quite the same since.

His life is going spectacularly well, though. Lots of women and a great job and enough money to buy plane tickets to different cities to meet these women when he wouldn’t even drive down three hours to see me in a neighbouring town. I hate how unfair life is. He’s found some amazing people that he has feelings for, that like him back, even though he’s the one who broke my heart. And I still haven’t found a single person who even makes it to the second date, and the only one who did was just using me as a placeholder while his cheating ex girlfriend took a vacation from their relationship. So how the fuck is that fair? Am I being given the worst kind of experiences because my broken heart produces a special brand of my best writing? If yes, then I’m tired. I’d rather be a mediocre writer, but I cant spend my whole life being abandoned and cheated on and dumped and taken for granted, especially when the kind of love I can give is loyal and abundant and pure.

  That’s it. Those are my issues, or some of them. Honestly I’m tired of typing and want to retire to my safe space that is my bed, and the deep dark comfort of unconsciousness. I just thought I might feel better if I could release this into the world, before I feel a little better and write another post manifesting what I envision my life to be next year.

If you made it to the end, you truly love me and care for me. Thanks for sticking with me, I guess. I hope things get better. I used to say that the good thing about rock bottom is that there’s nowhere to go but up. I wish there was some kind of tracker that told you when you’d actually hit rock bottom, because all I do is keep on fucking sinking deeper and deeper.

[somaybeimbiased]

(Taekey) Possession AU Part 2/?

Part 1 HERE

  Minho was right. He was totally right.

It had been about three weeks since that night, and Taemin spent most of his ‘free time’ at Kibum’s. He had to pretend to be going to classes or work, but the evenings, mornings, and all his other time  were devoted to making Kibum fall for him. Once Taemin could get Kibum to say something verbally confirming a deep connection formed between the two, Taemin would then be free to possess the elder. He just needed something along the lines of ‘I trust you’, ‘I need you’, ‘I love you,’ etc. But it was far to early for anyone to be throwing around the L word anyways.  He didn’t even know how Kibum felt about him. Like, what even were they? Taemin stressed out mildly over this fact. They’d never established anything and he’d never asked, neither had Kibum. Taemin wondered if by doing this we was friendzoning himself. In hindsight, that shouldn’t matter much, as long as they can become really really close friends. But it’s always easier to make a bond if you’re dating your target. He was overthinking this. Tonight after meeting him friends, Taemin would be upfront and ask Kibum what they were. For his own sanity.

Tonight, however, Taemin was nervous. He was to meet Kibum’s friends, like physically meet them and talk to them. He was afraid that they would hate him and that in itself would ruin things with Kibum.  Taemin saton the edge of Kibum’s couch, wringing his hands and waiting for the elder to finish getting ready. It was often like this with Kibum, but Taemin never really minded it. If Kibum took too long to get ready, Taemin would just kick back and take a nap. He’d forgotten how much he loved to sleep. Taemin was wearing tight black jeans a black v-neck and a fluffy grey cardigan that was two sizes too big. His old white vans sat beside him, waiting to get out on. He wasn’t allowed to wear shoes in the house unless it was his slippers. He sighed and leaned back on Kibum’s plush couch, for a bachelor’s pad, Taemin had to admit, that Kibum did have amazing taste in design. If Taemin had a place of his own, he wouldn’t know where to begin. He would probably be okay with a small one room with a tv, a futon, and a lamp. He didn’t really need much else more, but he could certainly appreciate the aesthetic of put-together comfort that Kibum’s entire place emitted. Taemin wiggled to get comfy and shut his eyes, yawning softly.

“Don’t you fall asleep. You don’t know how hard it is to wake you up.” Kibum said, entering the room swiftly, shoes in one hand and a bag in the other.

“I was just waiting for you.” Taemin grumbled softly, stretching and groaning.

“Lol, me too Taem.” He said softly, grabbing his coat from the hook, and grabbing Taemin’s and tossing at him.

“I know you’re always warm, but we are under a wind chill advisory, and I don’t need you losing any of your fingers.” Kibum continued.

Taemin laughed, “That’s only because I could fing-”

“Lalalalala” Kibum interrupted him, covering his own ears. “I cant hear you~” he said in a sing-song voice that made Taemin laugh. He put his maroon coat on and stood up, taking his shoes towards the door.

“Yah, your phone?” Kibum said, slipping one of his shoes on while using the counter to balance himself.

“Thanks.” Taemin mumbled, returning to the coffee table in front of the couch to where he left his phone. If Kibum hadn’t said anything, he definitely would've left it there. He smiled, “Always looking out for me, Bummie.” Taemin said.

Taemin missed the way Kibum blushed at the nickname. Seconds later, both men were ready to leave, coats, shoes, and hats (as requested by Kibum) on.

Arriving at Jinki’s shouldn’t have been this nerve wracking, but Taemin had several things to consider. Kibum wouldn’t like him if his friends ended up hating him, he had to make sure that he didn’t slip up in acting like he’d known them for a while, and he knew that Minho, as intrusive as he is, would be watching from the shadows. He was so afraid that Minho had told one of their other pals about his stupid suspicions of Taemin. If Jongin, or Yunho found out, he would be dead. While they might be his friends, they really do follow the rules down to the periods. They would check out his situation and tell the higher ups if they saw how direct he was being and he would be dead meat forsure.

Taemin seemed to be lost in thought as Kibum pulled him out of the Uber they had taken to Jinki’s, He pulled Taemin up to the small condo by his hand and knocked on the door. The knocking seemed to rattle Taemin out of his worry and he shook his head softly.

One thing he didn’t expect was Minho to greet them at the door. Taemin’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Kibum seemed amused by Taemin’s reaction.

“You must be Minho! Jinki has told me quite a bit about you!” Kibum said, holding a hand out to Minho.

“Likewise.” The demon said, flashing a smile. “And Taemin I presume?” He asked, faking innocence. What angle was he playing at here? What was he doing. Taemin forced a smiled and stuck his hand out. “Minho. Nice to meet you.” Minho nodded and let them inside after briefly shaking Taemin’s hand.

Taemin and Kibum kicked their shoes off as soon as they stepped inside. They gave Minho their hats and coats and then followed him into the living room where the others were. There was Jinki and Jonghyun, but Taemin didn’t recognize the others. How had he never seen them before? There were two girls and another guy.

Kibum pulled Taemin farther into the room, holding his hand to force him inside farther.

“Okay everyone, I want you guys to formally meet Taemin, he is the one that I’ve been spending so much time with lately.” He said, smiling.

“Taem, this is Luna, Amber, Woohyun, Jinki, and Jonghyun. They are some of my best friends in the world.” He said, a bright smile adorning his face. Taemin felt his stomach churning, and he felt himself smile back.

“Nice to meet you all.” He said, blinking a few times.

“Oh my gosh! He is too cute! Kibum how did you find him?” Luna said, oozing enthusiasm.

Kibum pulled Taemin over to an empty part of the cough nearby Jinki.

“Actually, he found me. He just sort of pulled this guy away from me at the club a few weeks ago and started dancing with him instead. And let me tell you, I would’ve gotten mad at him if it weren’t for how drunk I was and how hypnotic he looked when he was dancing. Like I didn’t even know someone could dance that well for being as drunk as he had been.” Kibum rambled on, and Taemin space out again, nodding vacantly as Kibum went on about their night at the club. He fiddled with his hands in his lap, picking at his nails, or wiping the clamminess off on his jeans.

“So are you guys dating?” A deep voice interrupted the chatter Taemin had been spacing out of. Taemin blinked and looked to the source of the voice, Minho.

The elder smiled as he walked into the room, sitting in between Jinki and Taemin himself, looking at the odd couple.

Kibum got very quiet and looked to Taemin who returned the same look. They didn’t know.

Amber laughed, “Hit a soft spot there Minho.” she joked, making the others in the room laugh, except Kibum, Taemin, and Minho.

Taemin felt like he wanted to shrink in on himself. It was against the rules to claim the bond before the human he wanted, but then again, he already broke a few of those. He felt the stare from Kibum, and the stare from Minho and he bit his lip.

“I, need some water. I’ll be right back.” Taemin mumbled, and he stood and left the room faster that Kibum had ever seen him move.

Minho sighed and stood. “He wont know where anything is, I’ll go help him.” He said as he left the room to meet Taemin in the kitchen.

As soon as Minho entered the kitchen, Taemin slammed him into the wall.

“What the frick Minho?” He said, glaring at the elder.

“I’m only trying to see how serious your problem is Taemin.”

“What problem? I’m not doing anything wrong? So lay off.”

“Taemin you’re in love with him, what happens when one of the heads find out?”

“They won’t because I’m not in love. I just want to possess him.”

“Living with him is not trying to possess him, Taemin. Minho said.

“So then what are you doing with Jinki? Hmm? You must have met him a while ago for him to have told Kibum so much about you.

It was Minho’s turn to get angry, he flipped the positions, pinning Taemin against the wall.

“You do not bring Jinki into this.” He hissed.

“Why? You’re doing the same things I am! You’re going to get yourself put back there, Minho. You and I both know you don’t want that. And think about Jinki. You love him.”

“Yeah, maybe. But not as much as you love Kibum. We both screwed ourselves over Taemin! I’m just trying to warn you! They will start watching you, and when they do, you need to get out of here.”

Taemin rolled his eyes, “What kind of delusion are you living in?”

“Reality. What about you? You’re lying to yourself because you’re in denial you idiot!”

“Oh! Um.?” A surprised voice interrupted their dispute. Jonghyun was standing there, awkwardly.

Minho grinned and let Taemin go before gently punching the younger’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry Jjong, we were just messing around! We used to go to school together way back in the day.”

Taemin caught on to what Minho was doing and he rolled his eyes. “Please, you make it sound like we are 50 year old men. It wasn’t too long ago.

Jonghyun smiled and nodded in understanding, “Roughhousing, I see. I was just sent in to make sure everything was okay. But if you guys need more time to catch up, go ahead, but remember that Taemin is here to meet all of us, you can’t hog him Minho,” Jonghyun winked, “I’m sure both Kibum and Jinki wouldn’t want you guys hogging each other either. He finished, leaving the room.

As soon as he left the room, Taemin punched Minho. In the shoulder, “This conversation isn’t over.” He said before leading the elder back into the main room.

The rest of the evening went by without a hitch, Taemin and Kibum avoided relationship questions, Taemin avoided Minho’s continuous stares, and they all seemed to take a liking to Taemin just fine.

When Taemin and Kibum got back to Kibum’s apartment, they stumbled in, having gotten mildly wine drunk. Taemin kicked his shoes off before picking up the two excited dogs that scampered around his and Kibum’s feet. He took them to the couch and plopped down. Kibum followed after him, dropping his back on the floor.

“Taaminnie!” He sang, sitting next to the demon.

“Bummie~” Taemin copied him, laughing.

“Are we, what are we Taem?” Kibum asked, taking one of the squirming dogs and placing them on the ground. Taemin let the other follow his brother and he turned to Kibum.

“I don’t know Kibum, I was, uh, hoping you could tell me.” He stuttered.

“I like you a lot Taem, and I want to date you. Will you go on a date with me? It’ll be like a free trial, We go on a date, and if it works, we can start working on a proper relationship, and if it does, we go back to friends or occasional friends with benefits?” Kibum mumbled drunkenly, smiling down at Taemin who was staring at him.

Taemin nodded dumbly. There it was. Not the ‘L’ word, but it was all one in the same. Taemin felt his heart pull at the affirmation of a connection. Minho was right. He was totally right. Taemin felt like laughing, like kissing kibum, and like crying all at the same time.

A/N Requests are open! I’m already working on some old ones and some new ones!  

See more work on my Masterlist

[cheezybiouwiou]

a briefing so i don’t have to repeat myself

My parents got divorced when I was one. He ‘went on holiday’ to Switzerland when I was about 6, the only contact I’ve had with him has been like through letters when we’ve tried to change our names in court or something.

I’ve lived in three countries and moved house over 30 times - it sounds weird but there’s always been a good reason.

We were like the famous five kids (my cousins, my sisters and I) for years, but then my aunt’s a little crazy, so long story short we fell out and didn’t see them for like 8 years (side note, saw them this summer and it was weird but nice).

Uncle is batshit crazy and a psychopath, we don’t talk to him. He likes to remind my mum that he could kidnap/murder us every so often which is fun. My grandma has alzheimers (so does my great aunt), and my dad’s side of the family we don’t have contact with. Everyone else just isn’t around or is dead I’m pretty sure (that’s not tragic it’s just old age yk).

Umm, so, mum was determined to send us to private school, so after the divoce although we stayed in private education, she/we sacrificed a lot to get there. We weren’t poor or anything, just life was tight. That at one point led to us moving to Spain for a year (wonderful but crazy experience, I was like 6 at the time and genuinely my heart is in Spain. We have a house there in this tiny village, it’s kinda the only constant I’ve had in my life.

After that we moved back to England and I went to a boarding school (very minimal boarding at first though, so easy). Had an amazing time, yada yada then my mum met my soon-to-be stepfather. Long story short again, he had a bit of money and they got married quick, it seemed great at first but he turned out to be a wackass hoe as well.

A series of unfortunate events involving us moving into my grandma’s to look after her and my batshit uncle threatening to kill our cat and kicking us out of that house led to us moving a bajillion times between holiday rentals for like a year. We then ended up moving to Shanghai, again seems incredible at first until you remember that this is the point at which he started showing his true colours and being super emotionally abusive to my mum. Shanghai also happened to be a really convenient way to isolate a person. Anyways, I got sick of it after a year because the education was shit so ended up going to the UK and going to a super uptight full-time boarding school for the next year.

Went here, homesick as shit and my brain decided it would be a perfect time (when I’m in a super intense academic and conservative environment where the only person I have in the country is my sister) for my ✧・ﾟ:* issues *:・ﾟ✧ to manifest/me to actually understand shit. So yeah, bad year for me. This was also compounded by my mum (yk cut back to China where she’s being emotionally abused and my other sister is having a shit time) having an absolute breakdown. Idk the timing worked out great bc my shit time coencided with hers and she couldn’t cope with that on top of my homesickness and on top of her issues so this, combined with the multiple arguments that I had with her, meant that she told me to stop bothering her and so I did. We didn’t talk for weeks, and now I have ✧・ﾟ:* emotional scars/trust issues and our relationship has never been the same *:・ﾟ✧. 

Anyways, she escaped by some miracle and we ended up back in England all together. This was when we returned to the flexi-boarding school (the one from before China) because it was the only one we could afford to go to. Sooo that place was super negligent and basically all I can say is that they had a really good PR team to stop all those suicide attempts within that school from going public.

Anyways, the first year was iffy, but as I said before, the issues that were becoming more apparently at the last school were kinda becoming more and more apparent (I now know it’s anxiety, depression, and then a possible spicy element of ADHD that we haven’t even got to yet). There was also another issue in that I’m bisexual and I was figuring that whole thing out (this is a side note but I’m probably non-binary but that’s a whole other issue that I’m confused/in denial about), but that led to me becoming friends with basically just the queer kids in my year because all my friends stopped talking to me. At this point I started almost full-boarding again.

Then I started dating one of my friends (Draco, AFAB but confused about their gender identity). Started off sweet, but long story short we dated for a year and a half and I’ve never been more broken (tried to kermit the frogicide 3 times hehe they barely counted as attempts yeet). Uhh there’s a lot to unpack with this one but I’ll try to simplify:

They had abusive parents (physically and emotionally)

They had bipolar

They also were raped by their dad multiple times

They were super manipulative. I wasn’t allowed to be happy about anything because it made them feel bad. 

I wasn’t allowed to feel confident in my body because they had severe body issues. I ended up developing an eating disorder (all I ate was tea, toast after midnight and like milk and digestives).

I started self-harming.

My relationship with my sisters and mum was atrocious. It was definitely a huge part my fault, but not entirely.

As a group we were definitely very toxic. But yeah, on top of all this their best friend committed suicide, and they’d been in emotionally abusive relationships. This led to them being super suicidal. There was I think from November to February where every time they left school to go home, they’d literally try to kill themself. And I’d be stuck while they’re messaging me the whole time saying like “sorry you’re not enough to save me”. Every night. For months I was spending my whole life literally just trying to keep them alive.

Idk if I blame them, because it was definitely their trauma that made them act like it, but some of the stuff they did was manipulative and shit. Lying to me a lot, promising they’re telling the truth when actually lying. Constantly pushing me away, and then being mad when I couldn’t talk to them because they blocked me. Telling lies to my friends to get them to stop talking to me and then stopping me from telling my friends the truth (I wouldn’t tell them just because Draco made it seem like it would hurt Draco, and I was terrified of doing that). That sorta stuff.

I became a therapist for a lot of kids in my year, and so all that pressure of keeping like 20 kids from committing not-alive, on top of my issues just wasn’t a good look for me.

This led to as I said, the eating disorder, and also heavvyyyy dissociation. It also led to alcoholism which was just an unexpected turn. I just didn’t realise how bad all of these problems were at the time. Not a good time, a lot of loneliness, skipping lessons, that sorta thing.

Anyways, mum managed to get me out of the school (after a breakdown and an ambulance having to be called to the school because I drank too much). I did my GCSEs from home by some miracle, and she moved me to the local sixth form. I broke up with the person, and then had a few months over the summer that were life changing.

I moved to a new sixth-form, and it’s been rocky and uphill and super hard but I worked my ass off and I’m in so much better of a place than I was. It was rough at the start, but basically I had a pathetic amount of CBT therapy from the NHS, and the only good thing it did for me was to let me know that 1) I hate CBT, and 2) I already managed to teach myself a lot of the coping skills in the last year.

Then corona rolled around, and my anxiety went through the roof again, depressive episodes came and went and I’m still getting no help. But yeah, it basically made me realise that sure I’ve come a long way but I’m barely holding it together. It most CERTAINLY isn’t helped by the astronomical stress levels I’m getting from my A-levels and just generally existing at the moment is hard. I’m also low-key lonely because people kind of suck (I lost almost all my friends from my old school, don’t get me wrong that was for good reason, but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t suck. But yeah, I also got into a group of people at the start that were kinda shitty and so now it can be kinda lonely because it’s hard to make new friends).

My relationship with my mum has improved but it’s rocky as fuck. She’s very childish and I’m pretty sure hit the jackpot for trauma in every capacity but just pretends that sHe’S fiNe. While I’m writing this, she’s been incredible. Genuinely incredible. But also she can be one of the biggest problems in making me want to cease existing. She can be extremely manipulating and invalidating of my emotions, and generally make me feel like I’m going insane because she knows that I have no power over my life. She’s admitted it’s because she has to be in control of everything, but admitting it doesn’t mean it’s not toxic. It’s one of the hardest things in my life when it gets bad.

So yeah, I think that’s most of it!

Also side note, I may have attachment issues from the constant moving schools/houses/issues with my mum/dad leaving/crazy stepdad/i completely forgot to mention my step-brother who nearly got institutionalised in china because of schizophrenia that i didn’t see after that/constant changing schools.

Also second side note, only figure out recently and I’m probably completely wrong and I can’t remember it properly because I was so young but a kid a few years older than me might have touched me up when I was younger. It wasn’t anything serious, it just made me uncomfortable when I realise. I don’t know if I want to talk about it though because there’s a part of me that wonders if I just invented this trauma to make me feel special or some shit and YES I’m aware that’s the dumbest shit to ever think but oh well. Edit: also I feel like I have no friends/they're constantly changing. Also, childhood Moreton bullying.

[paganinpurple]

A Crushing Revelation - Ch 2

“She just acts super-different around me. Nothing like how she acts with everyone else. It’s…odd.”

“Oh Kitty,” she said turning to look at him with a sort of pitying humour in her eyes, “you really don’t get it, do you?”

“Uh, no,” he said rolling his eyes at her, “That’s why I’m confused.”

Ladybug held her smirk and sighed, putting her face in her hand for a moment before lifting it again and giving him a piercing look that said to take note of what she said next, that it would be important.

“She has a crush on you.” ______________________________________________

Adrien has often been confused by Marinette’s odd behaviour around him and Ladybug can tell when something is on Chat’s mind so he decides to confide in her as vaguely as possible. Marinette might not recognise herself but she definitely recognises the signs of a girl in love. How does Adrien react to the new realisation that one of his closest friends likes him as more than a friend? And what will he do with this information when Ladybug points out that it seems like he likes her too?

Read on AO3 or FF.net         <<Ch 1     Ch 2     Ch 3>

Chapter Two - Adrien is in Denial

“She has a crush on you.”

“Wut.”

“She has a crush on you.” Ladybug's words continued to echo in his head.

Chat stared blankly at her with wide-eyed confusion. His eyes burned but he couldn't quite bring himself to close them. He searched for something to say but all of the eloquent words his brain usually contained seemed to slip away from him as he grasped out at them, like tadpoles swimming hastily from the net that was intended to catch them.

“Uh sorry, did you say...did...WUT!?”

He finally blinked as Ladybug began to guffaw at his lack of articulation and slowly came back to himself a little. He snapped his gaping mouth shut and his eyes narrowed. He wrinkled his nose as he tried to think of a good retort for such an obvious joke as it seemed as if she was just trying to make fun of him. After all there was no way Marinette was crushing on him. That just...wasn't possible. This wasn't his Lady's usual brand of teasing though and he couldn't help feeling a little annoyed by her laughter.

“I said,” Ladybug said interrupting his thoughts, “she has a crush on you. It's so obvious, don't tell me you haven't even considered it.”

“She does not have a crush on me,” he huffed at her and gave her the dirtiest look he could summon, which wasn't all that convincing. Despite how she was always accusing him of being an alley cat, he was actually pretty pathetic at throwing shade. “She can't,” he insisted when she didn't seem all that convinced, “she doesn't act anything like the other girls who do have crushes on me.”

Her eyes sparkled frighteningly and a teasing smirk returned to her laughter flushed face. Oh no.

“Oh, so there's more than one girl you know who likes you? With your horrible flirting and terrible puns? Really?”

“Hey!” he said indignantly, “I'll have you know that my devilishly handsome face has many admirers. And my flirting and puns are a meow-sterpiece!”

She scoffed at that and pulled her legs up from where they were dangling over the edge of the building to sit facing him, crossing her legs once she was comfortable.

“So how do your admirers act then?” she cocked her head to the side as she awaited his answer, humour evident in her expression.

“Why?” he asked hopefully, “Jealous?”

“Dream on Minou.” She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and dropped the smirk to give him a confused half-frown. “If you're so sure this girl doesn't like you because she doesn't act like the others, it makes me wonder how the other girls act. I mean, if it's made you so oblivious-” she raised an eyebrow and her mask creased with the movement, “-to teenage girls and how they usually act around boys they like, it's got to be good right?”

“Oh.” he mirrored her and raised an eyebrow back in her direction, but he guessed there was no harm in telling her about Chloé or Lila, as long as names weren't mentioned. They were the only two with crushes on him who had actually spoken to him for longer than about five minutes. He was sure there was plenty other girls who were crushing on him from his magazine spreads but he didn't know any of them personally. They probably just thought they knew him from interview bios and whatever crap his publicist put on his official social media accounts. To be honest, he found that a little creepy.

“Um...” he cleared his throat loudly as he began to feel really awkward. He was discussing other girls who definitely liked him with the love of his life. He glanced down at his knees and scratched at the back of his neck. He gave his leg an experimental kick over the edge as he considered how to phrase his thoughts. God this was weird.

“Well, they-they're all over me.” There. That was the gist of it wasn't it? But she was just staring at him, waiting for more. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the heat he could feel across his cheeks. “They get all touchy-feely. Linking arms with me, grabbing my hand when they talk. Obvious flirting, like heavy flirting. Pet names for me-” he grimaced and glanced up to meet her eyes nervously when he heard her chuckle, “And getting in my personal space. And it's pretty obvious someone likes you when they make a big deal about wanting to kiss you. In front of everyone.” He added the last part as an afterthought as he remembered Chloé's many attempts.

It was that same last part that had Ladybug scowling angrily. It made his heart soar sweeping into his throat like a wave had engulfed it. He wondered if this was finally a sign of the green eyed monster? Was she finally starting to get annoyed by the idea of someone else trying to lock lips with him? He smiled toothily and watched her lips purse as she prepared to speak. Her screwed up face reminded him of when Plagg got a particularly foul piece of Cambert too close for comfort.

Meanwhile Ladybug's mind was whirling unpleasantly. She wasn't liking the sound of this. To her it seemed like these girls were just trying to show Chat off as some kind of trophy, or make it hard for him to say no when so many people would be there judging his rejection.

“That sounds more like them trying to guilt you into a kiss than genuinely caring about you as a person,” she said, “That's not very nice. Most girls might think of getting a kiss as a big deal but they'd try to downplay it in case they scared you off.”

He frowned at her words and tilted his head in confusion, cat ears pricking up like a curious kitten. That definitely didn't sound like something Chloé or Lila would do. They didn't seem to know how to do anything without drawing a crowd. They were 'centre of attention' type girls.

“Really?” he asked, “Not in my experience.”

She glanced down and gently bit at her bottom lip as she contemplated how to explain what she was thinking. His eyes immediately caught the motion and stayed rooted to her mouth, eyes mesmerised and chest tightening. He sensed her movement a half-second before she looked at him and glanced up, not wanting to be caught staring.

“Chat, I think you're right in that these girls do like you...but I think you're overlooking that there's other ways for girls to act when they have a crush too. These girls sound like they're very confident when it comes to, well, acting on their feelings. Not all girls are like-”

“But the other girl,” he exclaimed suddenly, “the one who acts weird, she's really confident!” His voice had become desperate and high pitched again. He could sense how serious she was now and the thought had him somewhat panicked. There was no way Marinette liked him. Not someone he was such good friends with. None. Right?

“Around everyone except you!-” she extended her index finger and gently prodded him in the chest as she spoke, “She doesn't have a handful of people she acts differently around from what you've told me. She's just insecure about how she acts around you. The one person it matters most that she looks good around. It makes her shy and unable to think straight. And the more she likes you the odder she'll act.”

Chat stared straight ahead, unblinking and wondered if his stomach had jumped off the Palace without him. Maybe it had leapt up into his chest instead? Was he still breathing? He had to remember to breathe. He felt light-headed. This couldn't be true. Marinette...had a crush...on him? Marinette!? Eyes wider than they'd ever been, he launched himself to his feet and took a step away from his Lady in disbelief, nearly stepping to the wrong side and slipping off the edge of the Palace in the process.

“No! No-no-no-no-no! That's not possible!” he told her, hands coming up to grab fistfuls of his hair right beneath his cat ears, “She doesn't act like she likes me, she acts more like she's embarrassed! She doesn't want to spend time with me on her own, it makes her freak-” his hands dropped as did the pitch of his voice as he started to come to a shocked realisation- “ooouuuuut.”

He glanced at Ladybug as he dragged out the last low word of his outburst and recognised the sympathetic look she shot him as one she often used whenever he was feeling down about himself and needed the comfort. He shrieked embarrassingly, a hand flying to his mouth to smother the sound. He could feel his cat ears and tail standing perfectly upright and shuddering. He started to wobble, his knees feeling like they were about to buckle beneath him.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Just...need a minute,” he told her, both hands suddenly covering his face, “Maybe a week.”

He abruptly remembered how Nino had acted when he'd had admitted to having a crush on Marinette. He'd found it strange but funny that his friend had suddenly been too frightened to go anywhere near her without lots of prompting and had completely lost his ability to talk coherently around her. Why had he never managed to make a connection between his best friends behaviour towards someone he knew he liked and a girl who acted the same way towards him? And oh God, that day, she'd seemed super excited when he'd asked her to meet them at the zoo on Nino's behalf. And she'd seemed very eager to know where he was when Nino had shown up alone. Had she thought he was asking her? Her behaviour was slowly starting to make sense a little bit at a time.

Marinette liked him. Marinette liked him.

She always seemed embarrassed to him because she was always blushing. She was blushing because she liked him. She freaked out about being left alone with him. She was freaking out because she liked him. She stammered and mixed up her words. Because she liked him. Marinette had feelings for him, and apparently it had been obvious.

He let out a whine. “I'm such an idiot.”

He dropped his hands, shoulders drooping with the movement. He slumped back over towards the edge and sat himself down cross-legged in front of Ladybug, head bowed low. All those weird comments Alya and Nino always made that he didn't understand were suddenly making a whole lot of sense. They knew. And they knew that he had no idea. They'd been teasing Marinette and they'd done it right in front of him.

“So...just how weird does she act? Scale of one to ten?”

Wow. That was a pretty open question. He lifted his head a tiny fraction and looked up at her through the hair that had fallen into his eyes, trying to use it as a shield against the inevitable taunting to come.

“In comparison to what?”

“To whatever is normal when she's around everyone else.”

He groaned. “Oh God. We're talking an eight or a nine. Maybe just starting to hit a ten.”

There was an aborted snicker from her and he noticed she'd clamped her lips together in an attempt to keep her giggling silent. It was somewhat ruined by her shaking shoulders.

“Oh just get it over with,” he mumbled, lifting his head and glaring at the tower in the distance behind her in a childish attempt to avoid her gaze.

“This girl loves you, Kitty!” She exploded in a fit of laughter, doubling over to hug her arms and leaning her elbows on her crossed legs as she howled through the tears quickly collecting in the corners of her eyes.

He screwed his eyes shut. His Lady wasn't perturbed by this in the slightest. On the contrary, this was giving her a ridiculous amount of joy if her unladylike snorts were anything to go by. Well, maybe it was just too much to ask that there would be something for him to tease her about in return.

“I don't see what's so funny about this.” he told her when she had started to relax somewhat and had begun wiping her eyes and face.

“Oh Chaton, it's hilarious. This girl might potentially like you more than any of these other girls and you had absolutely no idea. Especially since you say she didn't like you at first. You must have done or said something when you fixed it. Something so huge it made her start fawning over you right away.”

When he'd given her his umbrella, he realised. He'd poured out his soul to her trying to explain that it wasn't him that had placed the chewing gum on her seat and that he just wanted to make friends like everyone else. He'd been so sure that baring his emotions so rawly would help her to realise he was sincere, but it hadn't occurred to him she might become enamoured with him because of it. And he'd given her his umbrella because she had to walk in the rain and he had a car waiting for him. He didn't mind getting a little wet if it saved her from getting soaked. In hindsight he could see how that might be something that would make somebody a little infatuated. Oh God, she'd stammered when she'd tried to say goodbye that day.

“I thiiiiiink I know when that was. Now that I'm thinking about it,” he groaned again, “What am I going to do?”

Ladybug looked at him, no longer laughing but a large grin still planted on her pretty face. “Is she cute?”

“What!?”

“Is she cute? Pretty? Totally disregard the fact that you know her or whatever you feel for her. What do you think of how she looks?”

Was it usually this warm outside at this time in the evening? He swore his face felt sunburned, and he was half expecting his mask to start smoking. Ladybug leaned forward to examine the pink flush dusting his cheeks and it bloomed darker than before, this time due to her proximity.

“Why Chat Noir, are you blushing? I would say that means you do think she's a pretty girl.”

“What!? I don't–I mean, yeah she's pretty but–that's not why-that is I-I don't-I DON'T THINK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT!” he stuttered out. She was so close, too close and this line of questioning was so unbelievably awkward. His stomach was fluttering as if a swarm of akumas were taking up residence there and he clenched his fist, his claws pricking into his palm as a distraction from her radiating body heat.

“Why not?”

“What?”

She leaned back again and he exhaled, not even aware he'd been holding his breath until then.

“Why don't you think about her like that? Have you ever even considered it? 'Cause if you have and then decided you don't like her that way then that's fine. But if not, how do you really know you don't like her?”

“But surely if I'd thought about it at all, it would mean I liked her? Wouldn't that be like admitting that the person I love isn't-I mean, there's only one person I want to think...” he trailed off suddenly, becoming aware of what he was admitting and who he was admitting it to. He cleared his throat loudly and tried to pretend he didn't see the way Ladybug's brow furrowed or her eyes widened as she started connecting the dots in her head.

Ladybug tried not to think too much about the implications of what he'd said combined with the way he'd trailed off like that. Maybe his slight crush on her wasn't so slight after all, given the way he seemed nervous about how he'd mentioned it. And he'd used the word love so casually. It wasn't his usual style to say something like that so seriously, it was mostly flirty teasing or over-exaggerated devotion that made her feel it was a bit of a joke to him too. She's have to be careful now not to be too harsh in the way she turned down his advances from now on.

“So,” he said suddenly, clearing his throat and trying for a light-hearted, somewhat embarrassed tone to lighten the awkward mood, “how do you even go about acting around someone you know has a crush on you? You know, when they have no idea that you know?”

“What?” she said looking at him like he'd just handed her an octopus suddenly and without explanation, “Just act like you always do. Why would you need to change?”

Because I don't think I'll be able to ignore her acting weird now that I know why.

[fungi59765976-blog]

The Big Idea

DRIVEN TO SUCCEED: THE BIG IDEA.

AN INTENSE DESIRE TO IMPROVE, THRIVE, and, RISE ABOVE. A LOVE STORY ABOUT THE PROSECUTION OF John Driver, and the mystery mincer machine.

By

The OUTLAW John Driver

November 5, 2018

WWW.LUBRX.blogspot.com

NOVEMBER 07, 2018

dissemble

[dih-sem-buhl]

verb

1. to conceal one's true motives, thoughts, etc., by some pretense; speak or act hypocritically.

2. to give a false or misleading appearance to; conceal the truth or real nature of: to dissemble one's incompetence in business.

♠️ THE GLOBAL GAMING ARENA AND ITS THEATER. ♠️

#1. PROXIMITY IS THE ONE THING I CAN PROVE THE ARGUMENT THAT MOB AND GARCIA COMMITED A PLETHORA OF XIVIL MALICIOUS SCAMS AS FREELANCERS DIRECTED UNDER SECUROTY CONTRACTS.

https://1drv.ms/w/s!AsqklJ_F_8cygXKwzwT5beJMh4Rg

“Way to go Scooby, now let Velma lick my box, before she has to get to work at TSA.” -Mystery Machine

“It takes an IDiOT to solve this and come up with the BIG IDEA.” -COS

SPUNK SPIRIT. LOVE FORCE. (sounds painful)

Chapter one: The DATE SCAM was to FIX the location of the TARGET, and to… LOVE. LOVE WITHOUT RESPECT be ones toxic and will result in DOMESTIC violence. LOVE understands LOVE, it needs NO talking . Let’s examine the mind of a woman that is on CYBER DATING, and assume she is NOT a FREELANCER….an over weight mother of two as she puts it. No friends and a Stalker named Randy.

If you Love a girl, it is better to fight for her happiness, rather than leave her in sake of her happiness. LiSa and I are in LOVE since we met on POF in June 23, 2016.(see

“Now you’re messing with my emotions.” – Fat Kid and cake.

LOVE can Cure. And, LOVE can Kill. The SPUNK SPIRIT LOVE FORCE, LLC. Is the Rhetorical use of the word, as the name of the empty-shelled LLC operated by Garcia, to have an account to be compensated for harassing, and investigating a Target, and the name of the DATE SCAM.

I mean, wtf does a woman need cyber dating for anyway? I’m pretty sure they can get a date anyway, anytime, with any guy. And, a blueprinted funnel close scripted dialogue, worth a coffee date follow through closer. Fishy. So, you gotta be already for anything with a female like that. Even for an idiot like John Driver, that should send a red flag up. First, instinct is she is a witch. Driver recognized the mental conditioning, and the seemingly desperate and immature desire to hurl herself out of a moving vehicle if it meant he was “dumping” her. The drive was adding up to an excessive amount of gas, wear and tare on the vehicle, to drive to Egypt, every other day to make a connection, and empty the balls, enjoy a bee Jay sesh, and that was it.

Relationships are difficult to nurture and they don’t happen just because the perp checked the box. Then to expect the same results from the past relationships, never adapting or learning new skills of communication, ultimately ending in a toxic, and insane hot mess of drama.

If a domestic spy has learned more about you, than you know about yourself, they can manipulate and direct the tone of the population, I mean the relationship.

The pornstar wife, the worried old lady, the struggling mom, the spoiled child of a controlling mother, and a nasty, drunk that says things like, “your gonna go broke just like all the rest of the guys I DATED.”

I was beginning to believe that all women have several personalities, and it may be true. Until you encounter a professional mind fucker, and a Heart EaTER. It’s almost like a spell or a hex was cast, or like she was reading his mind, and they just hit it off like Romeo and Juliet. Then, it turn into, “I think he is mentally ill. I’m scared.” What was, I’m worried about you. When are you coming back. And, do you love only me? I require a connection, and monogamy.

Now, playing that against a secret relationship, that she knows Dunaway, and Dunaway knows SACKETT, totally explains the shit eating snicker on the rice Patty face of the village scam artist, DUNAWAYS mom. What a dinger. Eventually, as a fighter, observation of the little slips added up to a conclusion that is not desired. You mean I’m being played, and if I raise up the point I don’t laid. I’m all in at this point, and I felt the punchline, just didn’t realize it was a toe punch kick to the dick and taint when I was bending over, cleaning the kitchen floor, unable to relate that doing things to make her happy, makes me happy, but, she is a Prostitute. She will jack you off on her tits anyway in your car, weather you perform with kindness, or a vulgcrassity. If she always comes at him with kindness, manners and no swearing, she is flawlessly able to bluff that she is honest and trustworthy. A deception and a skill. In the same sense that, Driver can inflict pain, even snap bones, like tailbones, aka coccyx, leaving zero trace, with a cool head, and a denial, has an incredible sense of credibility, when the police ask her a question and she lies to them.

The word LOVE is like a cluster firework bomb. When it goes off, you really do not know what to expect. The color, the amount of distance the flames spread, and in any direction. It’s very rarely controlled, and done in a laboratory setting. Love e is violent, and Love is not peaceful. It’s a hostile situation you are getting yourself into, so, since her ability to bleed the meat sword is inevitably used like currency, the skill of fucking her to within an inch of her life is the only chance a man’s got of controlling her, even if he makes less of an income than her. It’s every woman’s dream. Man handler her, but, don’t be caveman, be respectful and sweet to her.

At the scheduled time of fixing his location so the punk haters can confront, ambush and rope him in a street theater, she will disappear with a rational response of the kids this and that. You can’t argue kindness, and she has him tricked out anyway. Denial is her skill to avoid a confrontation like the last one, because, now, she is conditioned to take the pean, get the neck message, get the fish tanks cleaned, and the man-shit daily that is this awesome guy that she sometimes was just tolerating, and laughing at, not with, always an Over inflated sense of her self, and her joint bank account with her parents. Parents retired from Los Angeles County Personnel and in 100K $ club, or, SECRET SOCIETY OF WELL TO DO'S. These are the fucking assholes that are always in a confrontation with a neighbor, always in a litigation case over petty shit like stamp thievery, and always quick to judge other races, and expect to be fucked by a loser, or, don’t encourage him, he will kill your son. For reals. I met that grandma grey wrinkled sack of elephant skin bag of bones with a faint whiff of cancer growing within her wicked body, only one brief encounter, and she has judged me entirely, oh wow….. Liars get cancer, Howard Stern taught us that fact.

Chapter two: NEVER TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER. Due Diligence and the obsessive quest to obtain information, and the sick fucks that use Domestic Spying to master-bate, mimic, and hate on an unsuspecting citizen, an individual referred to only as TARGET, MARC, LOSER, or, John MACHINE Lober

“If you give up now, this will all be over.”- Sr.

Chapter three: PERJURY

“You have lost all credibility.” -OC Judge, written on request for civil harassment restraining order against Micheal Owen Bradley.

I do not give a fuck, yes, zero times ten FUCKS to GIve about our judicial system. Our officers of the court are the judge and jury. They are respected by myself . Judge Dredd is not just a movie, and militarized PULICE, with the ability to read thoughts, intentions, and charge a citizen on an “implied” threat of a crime is intense. It must be avoided and resisted, as long as possible, but, a situation will demand participation from the nation, the citizens that haven’t moved their wealth into south America banks ten years in preparation for the toppling of the house of cards, and became a citizen of another country, like a punk ass bitch. “If I had six days to live, I would spend it defending MY country.” Insisted Jim Kelly with a general Patton DVD on loop in the background.

“Oh? Because that is a bitch ass threat, and I think you are a pussy, because I fight to defend this country everyday, for 50 years. I will die on my feet, no matter the odds against me, and I will win. You. You’re fucked because you have diabetic feet. The most important body part for retirement. How the hell are ya gonna do anything with those, you fake ass fuck?” If you can’t overwhelm the enemy because he has information he is not disclosing, confidential, probate and stolen personal information, then humiliate, and impose your self confidence upon him, and his clearly lesser athletic abilities. The rage was building in his fat grey head as the interrogation proceeded, and I read this little boy-man like a book. Kelly snapped when I disclosed the occupancy agreements violations and the fraud. I was on point for him to present a firearm at all times, especially if he was out of my eyeballing, then back. I even asked him,”wheres your gun general Fatton?” It has been suggested that I do not play well with others. What is your definition of “well?” I can relate. Can YOU?

Chapter four: COPS ARE A BOX OF CHOCOLATES.

“You will never see justice. Just stay away.” – Threat Assessment Detective, Long Beach City Police Department.

“You WILL see justice in this matter, Lober. I am NOT recommending a 242pc. It was self defense. You simply struck him before he struck you.” -Riverside County Sheriff, Deputy M. Moore.

I never realized that a cop has such an enormous amount of authorization that he has the power to arrest, or use deadly force, but, inversely, he is the GATORS bitch puppet. It’s a LOV3 hate relationship with these fuck head Gators. A marine and a street cop walk into a bar. The Gator and the Detective duck under it, avoid injury, do all the drugs, fuck ALL the sluts, and drive the coolest cars, like Magnum PI. The cops get an honorable burial.

The cops want to so intensely to tell on these scumbags, and fuck up the lying Gator, but, will not because they are aware of the scandalous-ness abilities at FUCKERY they are capable of. Considering NCIS level FUCKERY, o ha e a perspective of why I put his life on danger by dropping the name bomb with an enhanced twist of embellish theory. How about sitting in a Safeway parking lot, 2:30am, tossing out del taco trash, when the beat cop lirks up behind you and adjusts his batman utility belt,” is this your trash?”

“Good morning Officer. Any idea where the hell Deputy Moore is? I’ve been waiting here for an hour to do the follow up Investigation with him and I’ll pick up the trash too.”

“What’s the investigation about?”-inquiring cops mind wants to know.

“I can’t tell you that, silly. It’s an investigation.” I pronounced.

“okay, we’ll pick the trash and stay outta trouble. Bye.”-Just like that.

Chapter five: DATE SCAM AND THE SPUNK SPIRIT LOVE FORCE, LLC.

DUNAWAY/SHACKETT. “OH, FUXK. THEY KNOW EACH OTHER THE ENTIRE TIME. THAT MEANS, OH MY GOD, THAT MEANS….”

Owner occupancy/ FHA/ HUD/ AND MORTGAGE AFFINITY type FRAUD by VIETNAM VETERANS/Private Investigators

LES LINKOGLE, WILLIE AURTHER “SALAS” RAMIREZ, PATRICK D MCNEAL, AND MARIO D GARCIA, M44, OF MENIFEE, CA. 27207 KEPLER STREET, are suspected of defrauding the SECRATARY OF VETERANS AFFAIRS of millions of dollars, by flipping HUD/ FHA LOANS, by opening empty shelled llc's to act as their own bank, violating occupancy agreements, and, possible identity theft, while, creating an enormous syndacite think tank.

Other participants in the scheme are: HEATHER DAWN ZABEL, F, MICHEAL OWEN BRADLEY, KATHLEEN M JACOBS, Marie M Dunaway, Charlie and Lois Weir, LARRY LEMONT LINKOGLE, AND, BRIAN DEEGAN. There are several hundred more individuals Nationwide included in the comprehensive reports. I can provide a glimpse of what I actually know, from a COMPREHENSIVE PERSONAL REPORT I received from a licensed Private investigator.

Willie SALAS RAMIREZ lays out a blueprint from his criminal and civil record, by first being sued by THE SECRETARY OF VETERANS AFFAIRS for forcible entry detainer. There were additional civil judgements , speeding tickets, and disruption. Willie was a Vietnam vet.

Willie then opened an empty shell LLC for his first purchase of a HUD property and became his own mortgage banker with THE SEC OF VET AFFA, and DEPT OF VET AFFAIRS. Flipped it to a buyer and collected the FHA loan.

The individuals are utilizing these properties to Target civilian citizens apparently for a USDOJ.GOV/COPS PROGRAM. I am aware of this only because of the tactics they have attacked me with for the past 16 months on 27185 KEPLER STREET, MENIFEE, CA. Lisa Traudt and I are members of the newsletter. IN a summary report, these individuals attempt to obtain a civil citation in lieu of an arrest of a target, to exploit the targets possessions, and, obliterated his finances and or life. The malicious act of FALSE FLAG incidents to create a false reality and give a Looney energy that is rationalized by reasonable person.

MORTGAGE FRAUD

Larry Lemont Linkogle comprehensive, Metal Mulisha Deathsquad, Briar Rose Winery, Temecula,CA.

https://1drv.ms/b/s!Al2TLfT5Fx75klD4aTaXW1IGXqxq

https://1drv.ms/b/s!Al2TLfT5Fx75kk_YE03YrRx95S0l

Spunk spirit LLC./ SPUNK SPIRIT LOVE FORCE

https://1drv.ms/b/s!Al2TLfT5Fx75kksTlLzxoVEpPh4C

Michael Owen Bradley, Adams Ave., Costa Mesa, CA.

[eannf-blog]

101 Thought Provoking Questions

1. Do you like who you are? Yes, but sometimes I regret what I do though. 2. What would people say about you at your funeral? Just say how much they loved me. 3. What would you regret not doing in your life? Probably not having kids. 4. What’s the wisest thing you have ever heard someone say? Haha I forgot. Probably just to let people think what they think and try to interfere with your own life. 5. What lessons in life did you learn to hard way? That overthinking petty things is the worst that could happen. 6. How often do your biggest worries and fears come true? My fear is losing people I love, worries is to not be in balance. 7. If you had one year left to live, what would you try to achieve? To give lectures to students in universities on not censoring free speech and just to shut up about safe spaces. I don't want the people reproducing triggered children like them. 8. Do you serve money or does money serve you? Money serves me lol idk. 9. Are you afraid of being your true self around others? Why? Yes, because people judge too easily or I don't trust them. 10. What are you grateful for? Being born where I was, getting education and generally the west. 11. Have you done anything you are proud of lately? My drawing. 12. Have you made any recent acts of kindness? I've just been nice to people, I suppose. 13. If you knew that you would die tomorrow, what questions would you ask yourself? "Why are you so scared?" 14. If your biggest fears came true, would it matter in five years from now? Yes. 15. How would you describe yourself? I am a quiet (natural) blonde girl who believes in justice. 16. Do you take people’s advice? Sometimes too often. 17. Do you get quickly offended? Depends what it's about. 18. Do you consider yourself to be a likable person? Yes, unless that person does something I find off and I am cold to them. 19. ‘We make a living by what we get, we make a life by what we give’ – What does this mean to you? I suppose giving helps you feel confident and proud, and self-determination. 20. Are you enriching the lives of others? I don't know... 21. Are you living a meaningful life? Yes. 22. What makes a meaningful life? When you have things/people you care about and you don't want to give that up. 23. Would you ever give up your life to save another? Depends on how that person would react. 24. How much would you be willing to sacrifice for people in poverty? I don't have much money, so not much unfortunately. 25. If you could live one day over and over again, what would you choose to do? To stop crying and just think of reality. 26. Do you think you are important and worthy of affection and love? Yes. If I give, I mean for someone to give back. 27. What would make you feel more worthy? What do you believe needs to be different about you? Probably general affection of myself and self love. 28. What brings you down the most often? No confidence. 29. Would you rather work less (and do the things you enjoy) and have less money? I'd work to my best ability and enjoy what I'm doing, even if I don't have much. 30. Where do you find peace? At home or with my best friend. 31. What is the most important quality you look for in another person? Love. 32. What is your biggest dream in life? To be happy and have children. 33. What is your biggest fear? To lose others I love. 34. How would the world be different if you had never been born? My family would not carry on, my mum would probably die alone. 35. What life lessons do you wish you knew 10 years ago? To stop being so fucking obedient. 36. If you could tell your younger self one thing, what would it be? Do what you love. 37. If your life was a movie, what would the title be? "Reincarnation." 38. If your life was a movie, would you enjoy watching it? Depends how it's made and the style. 39. What does success mean to you? To do what you are happiest doing. 40. If you could be a different person, who would you be? Princess Diana. 41. What was the best day of your life? Why? Dunno. 42. What do you look forward to most in life? Being in my last years of life and telling others what life was like when I was younger. 43. What bad habits do you want to ditch? Overthinking, caring too much, laziness, to stop being obsessed with my phone. 44. Who do you look up to and why? Lots of people. 45. Do you know your partners love language? Dunno. 46. Do the people you love most know how much you love them? I don't know. I'll have to ask. 47. Are you satisfied with the depth of your relationships? I want more depth in relationships. 48. What do you owe yourself? Care. 49. Based on your current day-to-day life, what do you expect to achieve in 5 years from now? University. 50. Do you say ‘yes’ too often when you really want to say ‘no’? Why? I'm in denial or I don't want to hurt someone's feelings. 51. What did you learn yesterday? I need to sleep earlier. 52. What do you like about yourself? My fingers. 53. Would you consider yourself to be a generous person? Yes, only when that person's trustworthy. 54. Do you really listen when people talk to you? Only when I'm interested or I don't want to hurt them. 55. What is the number one change you need to make in your life this year? Read and revise more. 56. How many hours per week do you spend on the internet? Loadsssss. 57. What are your most common negative thoughts? Are they logical? More feeling, but I'm always contemplating life. 58. Do you think it’s too late to do certain things in your life? Why? It's too late when you're immobile or mentally damaged. 59. If you could be the most influential person in the world, what would you change? How people treat each other. 60. How much time do you spend with your family and friends? Not much time with family, with friends mostly in school. 61. Where do you want to be in 5 years from now? Doing what I want. 62. Is your life complicated by unnecessary things? The English education system. 63. How can you simplify your life and focus on the most important things to you? Do what would help you. 64. What stresses you out? School work or things not going to plan. 65. What makes life easier? Being rich. 66. How often do you give without expecting anything in return? Medium. 67. What is your greatest challenge? Living up to people's standards. 68. What is most important to you in life? Are you giving it the time it deserves? I think I need to spend more time in art. 69. If you could send a message to the world, what would you say in 30 seconds? I wouldn't say anything. 30 seconds is a needle in a haystack. 70. What do you most regret never telling someone? How I feel. 71. When was the last time you tried something new? Dunno. 72. Are you afraid to speak your own opinion? Yes, or I'll be called a racist or other things. 73. Do you give into others too often and feel resentful because of it? Yes. 74. Are you holding onto something that you need to put behind you? Probably. 75. How often do you let your fears hold you back? A lot. 76. Do the people in your life bring the best out of you? Yes. 77. How often do you make excuses? A lot, mostly because I don't want to hurt anyone. 78. What is one mistake that you will never do again? Worrying. 79. Which is worse, failing or never giving it a shot? Never giving it q shot. 80. What has grown you the most as a person – your challenges and trials or the comfortable yet enjoyable moments in life? I've learned not to trust my dad in his relationship situations. 81. If you could choose to have no more challenges or obstacles in life, would you? No. 82. In one word, what is standing between you and your biggest goal? My age and class. 83. How often do you go to bed feeling angry? Not that often. 84. Would it be wrong to steal in order to feed a starving child? Stealing is wrong, but if you have money, use it to feed that child. 85. If you paid more attention to the sad things in this world, would you feel more conflicted about it? Yes. 86. If we learn from our failures, then why is it so bad to fail? It makes us feel awful, or other mock or say we're not good enough. 87. What could you pay more attention to in life? The facts. 88. Why do we think of others the most when they’re no longer around? We either miss them or dislike them. 89. What does it look like to make the most of your life? To try your best. 90. What have you given up on? Athletics. 91. How many people do you truly love and what are you doing for them? Giving them my loyalty and dedication. 92. Do you ask enough questions, or are you happy to settle for what you already know? I would ask many questions to get more than one answer. 93. What were you doing when you last lost track of time? On holiday. 94. Do you think you would be happy if you never had to work again? No. 95. How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are? 59 y/o. 96. If you could ask for one wish, what would it be? To be yourself. 97. What inspires you in life? My dreams. 98. What can you not live without the most? Family, friends, culture, books, art. 99. What do you enjoy doing over and over again? Drawing, reading, watching Triggered Lava Girl. 100. When did you last laugh so much it hurt? On Sunday. 101. What is stopping you from living the life you want to live? Age or self thought.

[russellthornton]

The 7 Stages of Heartbreak When You Become Someone’s Ex

Heartbreak’s here to stay for at least seven stages. Here are the common stages of heartbreak you experience when you go from sex to ex.

Unless you end up spending the rest of your life with your first love, odds are you’re going to experience one of life’s greatest woes: debilitating post-breakup loneliness and the seven stages of heartbreak that go along with it.

Breakups are totally worth it as long as you learn something, right? You may come out a stronger, wiser person on the other end of a breakup, but the process of getting there has to be some kind of cosmic joke.

The stages of heartbreak

It doesn’t seem to matter whether you were in a relationship or simply lusting after your crush from afar, heartbreak gets the best of everyone. From crying rage to hermit-like tendencies, we all seem to follow a vague pattern of heartbreak that charts our course through a breakup.

Feeling lost about where you rank on the heartbreak-o-meter? We’re giving you a chart of the 7 stages of heartbreak.

#1 Possible first: anticipation. When it comes to the stages of heartbreak, your first round can go one of two ways. Your possible first stage may just be anticipation.

Your lover was playing the long con, and you were wise to their game. You caught their subtle eye rolls, felt them backing away from you, and took note every time they told you they were hanging out with friends when they were really out at the club. This breakup may not have been a surprise to you, but it sure did hurt all the same. [Read: 20 signs your relationship is -oh-so-over already]

(or)

#1 Possible first: shock. Breakups bring us unbelievable heartache. Some feel that mourning a breakup is psychologically similar to mourning a death. The loss is so overpowering sometimes the mind can’t comprehend the difference. This can be particularly hard to bear when we don’t see the end of a relationship coming.

If this breakup came out of left field, your first stage of heartbreak is probably going to be shock. Big, slap-you-in-the-face shock. You were just living life, happy as a clam, thinking everything between the two of you was hunky dory. There was no anticipation, no telltale signs. You had no opportunity to slowly back away or to try and remedy the situation. Instead, the person you care for more than anyone just told you they no longer love you.

This is one of the hardest things to endure. [Read: Suddenly single?! 11 things you HAVE to avoid doing]

#2 Denial or it’s not over… It still isn’t over! Denial of a breakup isn’t as bonkers as you flat out deny that you’re no longer a couple. Rather, it’s more like you’re in denial that you’ll stay broken up. You have hopes of getting back together and picking up where you left off. I mean, you have to reconcile at some point, right? You were the perfect couple!

You may shelve your hurt feelings during the denial stage and try to psychologically convince yourself that this breakup is just a phase and you’ll be back together soon.

PS: This is really harmful to your psychological state. You ignore your grief when what you really should do is drowning your sorrows in a pint of mint chip ice cream and binge-watching Netflix with your friends. [Read: The pain of loving someone who doesn’t love you back]

#3 Bargaining or friends with benefits and other endeavors to win them back. Bargaining is all about doing whatever it takes to get your ex back and ridding your heart of the pain you currently feel. You swear that you’ll be a better mate, more understanding, more available, more attentive in the sack. You’ll even do that thing they like with the vibrating and the tongue and the…

The list goes on and on. Whatever you can do or say to get them to entertain the thought of getting back together, you’ll try it. This stage is rife with social media stalking. If you hope to reconcile then you need to make sure he’s not out with other girls, or that she’s just as upset as you are and… Whoa, did they really change their status to single? Ouch.

Becoming your ex’s “friend with benefits” is often a bargaining chip that women like to use. Do yourself a giant favor: unless your ex was the best lay you’ll ever have, skip this mistake waiting to happen. If you thought your heart was shattered during the breakup, becoming a friend with benefits explodes in your face so hard those shattered shards turn back into sand! [Read: 12 reasons why the no contact rule always works]

#4 Anger or the rant stage. Best friends unite—it’s the ranting stage! During this phase, you’ll move across the border from sad, wallowing heartbreak into pure pissed hell. You’re angry. You’re tired. You’re ready to rant.  How could your ex do this? Don’t they see what a catch you are? How could they not appreciate everything you’ve done for them? They’ll never get head as good as you gave ever again!

Opposite of the example above where you find out who your true friends are and cling to them for life as your new source of happiness, you may end up hating the world and everything in it—including your friends. You may become so angry that you lash out at those who love you the most. You may start acting out in self-destructive behavior.

This stage isn’t pretty, but it’s all a part of the process. Becoming angry means that you’ve taken off the rose colored glasses. It means you’re concerned about you now. [Read: How to let go of anger: Release the rage and resentment]

#5 Sadness or wallowing. Howard Hughes has nothin’ on you. You are deep into the sorrow stage. Right now your life consists of non-stop crying and reclusive behavior. You’re sad about everything: your breakup, the way you look, where your life is headed, the squirrel who keeps digging in your backyard.

This is one of those stages of heartbreak that is incredibly hard, but it’s also one of the most therapeutic once it’s over. Which, just warning you, could take a while.

Don’t let yourself be a hermit for too long. Engage your friends and allow yourself the chance to laugh, smile, and get fun drunk again. *You probably haven’t experienced that in a while!* Restart your social calendar so you start to feel like a real human being again. [Read: Self-discovery after a breakup – How to happily move on]

#6 Rebounding or looking for love at the wrong time. Somewhere between wallowing and acceptance comes the rebound relationship. A relationship is generally considered a rebound if you jump into it soon after a breakup from a serious relationship, or while you are sad, distressed, angry, or generally emotionally unavailable.

Rebounds are generally messy and involve a lot of hurt, but that doesn’t mean they’re worthless or wrong. For example, remember the days when you thought you could never love again? That it wasn’t worth putting time and effort into getting to know someone else’s little quirks and sex habits?

If rebounding to a nobody taught you anything, it’s that you really do have the potential to have a connection with someone new. The best part? It feels amazing. [Read: Rebound relationship rules to follow for a slam dunk]

#7 Acceptance… Sort of? If acceptance means ignoring your ex and staring daggers into their soul when you have the displeasure of sharing the same social scene with them, then yeah, you’re totally over it.

But seriously, acceptance usually happens when you least expect it. Suddenly a day goes by where you don’t even think about your ex. Every location, food, song, or movie you see doesn’t automatically remind you of some awesome time you had together. Instead, you’ve accepted and begun to move on. You understand why it didn’t work out and why you’re better off apart. You focus back on yourself and learn to live a life that is “me” instead of “we.”

[Read: How to be single after a long relationship: 16 ways to start over]

The 7 stages of heartbreak are unforgettably painful, but they also teach you something. You’re worth more than begging for someone’s time and affection. You are strong. And after this trauma? You can take a bullet without even flinching.

The post The 7 Stages of Heartbreak When You Become Someone’s Ex is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.