#soz about the massive blocks of text

[milfmorrowind]

Catch me when I fall

@tes-summer-fest

Part 1: Thief

ao3 link

part two

Why did it always have to be so damp?

Really though, this was getting ridiculous. No matter how hard Mailie tried to keep the moisture off of her, there was an ever-pervasive sense of slime in the Ratway that never seemed to go away. You would think regaining the blessing of a daedric prince might come with some cleanliness-related perks, but apparently not. Although, Mailie reasoned, of all the gods, Nocturnal was probably one of the least concerned with hygiene. And anyway, Mailie would fight a hundred dragons before letting on just how offensive she found the moisture to be. Her guildmates had come to respect her, despite her relative inexperience and privileged upbringing, but she could only imagine the amount of ribbing she'd get from Vex if anyone found out why she never leaned against walls. It was bad enough with Brynjolf assigning her the lovely moniker of "Princess"(thanks, Bryn, that really helps with the rumors), the last thing she needed was another "friendly" nickname.

Speaking of Brynjolf, where the hell was he? It had been four days or so since Mailie had asked after him, only to be met with a "Dunno, said he had a job to do. Something about an 'old friend', and to not expect him back for a bit," from Delvin. Very helpful, that, thought Mailie as she gently swirled the ale in her tankard (another habit that was made fun of– "It's not one of your fine wines, Princess, just drink it and go"), the thin layer of dew collected on the handle doing nothing to improve her mood.

She hoped for Brynjolf's sake that whatever he was doing was important. Delvin made it sound as if he'd left in a rush, which suggested it was at least somewhat urgent, but that's really no excuse for not telling anyone where he was going. If Delvin hadn't caught him as he was halfway up the ladder, no one would have known he had left at all. And sure, maybe she was being a bit unreasonable, free agents and all that, but it didn't change the fact that putting yourself in harm's way with no backup plan and no one to help you out if there's trouble was careless, and Brynjolf was not what Mailie would call a careless man.

Her musings were interrupted by the door from the Ratway swinging open. Mailie quickly pulled her hood back up to cover her face, shifting as she did to make sure Dawnbreaker was covered by her cloak. Her affiliation with the Thieves' Guild wasn't exactly Skyrim's best kept secret, to be sure, but it still wouldn't do for the Dragonborn to be seen publicly wearing a symbol of the guild's leadership. The more influence the guild gained, it seemed, the more they had to fear being recognized, especially as Mailie oh-so-carefully cut ties with the Black-Briars. Protection be damned, she couldn't wait to rid herself of their parasitic influence. Like pulling a leech from a leg, there would be blood, and it might sting a little, but it was better than being bled dry.

Thankfully, the hands pushing open the door belonged to Kjeld, one of the children the guild had recently recruited as a messenger. His parents had died in a dragon attack a few months prior, and his relatives had summarily kicked him out, claiming he was too expensive to feed, despite the farm they inherited from the boy's dead parents. Sapphire had found him sleeping by the road on his way to Honorhall, and offered him a job, which he was more than happy to take. He had proven a valuable asset, eager to learn and strong for a boy of twelve, likely due to his years of farm work. Less thankfully, he looked rather harried now, cheeks flushed as he ran along the narrow pathway towards the bar.

"Thane Chester - Master Mallory, sir– I need to– I mean I have something–" he stopped, hands on his knees as he struggled to speak through gasping breaths.

Delvin Mallory, stationed as ever at his table with a notebook and a flagon of mead, calmly reached out and put a hand on the youth's shoulder. "Slow down there, catch your breath."

Kjeld nodded, taking a few deep breaths and steadying himself. "I have news about Master Brynjolf, sir."

"Brynjolf?" Suddenly, every eye and ear in the Flagon was trained on the boy, and even Galathil looked up from her book for a moment. Mailie slipped out of her chair and headed over to where Delvin was sitting, adding her hand to Kjeld's other shoulder and kneeling down to his level.

"What kind of news?" she asked gently. "Did he send you with a message?'

He shook his head. "No ma'am, I haven't spoken to him myself. You see, I ran into Elte at Heartwood, and she said she'd heard from Alan at Ivarstead that he heard from Sedyni that-"

"Cut to it, kid," said Vex impatiently from the next table over. "What'd you hear?"

Kjeld swallowed. "Someone saw Brynjolf get arrested in Solitude. Right by the fort too, said there were elves and everything."

"Elves? Were they Altmer? With dark robes?" asked Mailie urgently. Stendarr's sake, if the Thalmor have him…

The boy furrowed his brow. "Those them tall ones, right? That's why they call them High Elves?"

Before Mailie could give a full explanation (and launch into a sociopolitical history of the Summerset Isles), Delvin cut her off with a nod. "Yes, lad, the tall ones. Were they there?"

"Sounds like it, sir. And Elte said that Alan said that Sedyni said that Brynjolf was awfully surprised to see them. He might have been badly hurt, too, there was something about a crossbow. I didn't wait to hear the whole story, sirs, I figured you'd want to know straight away."

"You did the right thing, son," Mailie said, patting him on the back. Calling over to one of the closer tables to the bar, she added, "Thrynn, could you make sure he gets a meal and some sleep, please?" The former bandit grumbled, but put his mead down and led the boy into the cistern.

Mailie pulled herself up and fell back into the nearest chair. Fuck. "I don't suppose any of you have friends in the Legion."

Vex barked out a laugh and crossed her arms. "Believe me, if I did, we wouldn't have heard about this through a messenger boy. Besides, you know the rules, Chester, we don't break people out."

Mailie scowled. Vex was right, technically-- it was Guild policy that anyone who got caught was on their own, but that hadn't stopped any of them from marking escape routes or bribing the occasional guard on a guildmate's behalf. Vex was no exception. She played up the apathy to keep anyone from getting too cuddly, but she cared about Brynjolf. She cared about everyone in the guild, actually, but but accusing her of it was a surefire way to end up with a black eye, so no one dared mention it. But Mailie knew. She'd known from the moment she saw the relief in Vex's eyes when Karliah's innocence was proven, the way she showed Mailie how to treat her dragonfire burns, the way her expression softened whenever Sapphire walked into the room.

Mailie was about to shoot her a withering glance and a cutting remark on the topic when she realized that Vex was staring her down. Ah. Vex had fallen into the habit lately of trying to test her-- to see what decisions she would make under pressure, to see how she would enforce rules, to see what rules she was willing to break. In short, Vex was testing her ability to lead.

Mailie shook her head. "Bryn's too good to get caught like that. If the Thalmor are involved then there's something bigger going on here. And hang the rules, I'm not letting someone rot in prison without at least knowing what happened. Especially if they're injured."

The ghost of a smile made its way on to Vex's lips. She'd passed. "Fair enough. I'll go get him, then. Been a while since I did a jailbreak, I could use the practice."

Again Mailie shook her head. "No. I'll go."

Vex raised an eyebrow. "You sure?  You don't exactly have a lot of experience with this. Have you ever even been arrested?"

Mailie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm sure. I-- We-- can't risk this being a trap. I have some influence in Solitude, if everything goes south I might be able to talk myself out of trouble," She hesitated for a moment. "And if Elisif's favor can't help us, my... associates have some sway in Imperial politics. Me being thrown in prison wouldn't exactly be good for their image, they might be willing to pull some strings and help me out. No one else here has that kind of leverage, and I'm not letting you throw yourself in front of blade without knowing who's holding it."

Delvin leaned across the table. "You're willing to bring your parents into this, Mailie?" he said. Clever bastard. Of course he knew.

She shrugged. "It's a last resort. There's a good chance they've disowned me by now, anyway. We haven't exactly kept in touch. It's a gamble I'm willing to make, though."

Vex uncrossed her legs and stood. "Well, if you're determined to go, I think we've got some old maps you could look at. No sense in sending you in blind."

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

No Pain, No Gain | Part 1 | PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem!reader

Summary: The personal trainer your roommate Baela recommended to you is rude, condescending but also hot as hell. Series Masterlist.

A/N: shoutout to my personal trainer Alex for rotting my brain. This is my first modern!Aemond fic, so any feedback is genuinely appreciated, I hope you enjoy this, it was an absolute ball to write (and there will be more!)

Also I could not post this without tagging some absolute modern!Aemond QUEENS who inspired me to write this. @valeskafics @oneeyedvisenya @sapphire-writes​ you’re the real ones! Also massive hug to @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ for hyping me up and being a parent to this child she didn't choose to create.

warnings: EVENTUAL SMUT, 18+, sexual tension, binge eating, mentions of breakup, cursing, dickhead Aemond, reader is horny af, English slang (soz), warnings will be added when needed

To say you were broken-hearted would be a bit of an understatement.

You were angry, annoyed, frustrated, wound up tight and pissed off to the highest degree.

And it showed in how you acted these days as you polished off the salty family-size bag of crisps on your own in 10 minutes flat.

You look over at your phone and sigh when you see it’s already 6 o’clock in the afternoon. Another day sat on the sofa, wallowing in self-pity, eating yourself into oblivion and fairly soon pouring a glass of Baela’s finest white wine (now that it was officially almost evening anyway and it was justified).

Scrolling through instagram was like twisting the dagger that was already in your chest. All that stupid fucking app could show you was ‘ex in the bar with his new girlfriend’, ‘ex in the drive-thru with his new girlfriend’, ‘ex on the beach with his new girlfriend’.

It made you want to throw your phone directly at the wall. But you settled for squeezing the life out of it, imagining it was your ex’s stupid face instead.

The absolute waste of space had broken up with you over text on the night you were supposed to go out on a date. And as if that was not bad enough, not even two weeks had gone by before he’d managed to stick his dick into someone else with a pulse. At the time, you were so angry that you didn’t accuse him of anything, he’d already broken up with you. But you did suspect that this ‘sudden’ relationship he’d gotten into wasn’t as recent as first thought. 

It’s been a month since you found out about the other woman.

And clearly you were coping really well.

Indulging wasn’t something you usually did, but now you feel you deserved it. 

“Hello~” the soft, ringing voice of your roommate Baela was at the door. You half-considered hiding all the packets of various foods you’d managed to stuff down your gob, but Baela had seen worse of you. She’d seen you while you were throwing your guts up after freshers week at university. Nothing was worse than that and you shuddered at the memory.

She walks in, looking more put together than you by a long way, having been hanging out with her sister all day. That’s what you like about Baela, she’s not judgemental, and so when she sees you’ve barely moved an inch she just flashes her usual smile.

“Good day then?” she says with a smirk. You raise your eyebrows in return.

“Apart from seeing him plastered all over instagram I’m great” 

“Got any left?” she asks, extending a greedy hand for a crisp. You offer her the bag with a sigh as she slumps on the sofa next to you. She watches boredly whatever you have on the TV,

"Why don't you just block him?" She asks. And to be fair, she has a point.

But you huff and shove another crisp in your mouth, whining, "Cos I'm a nosy bitch with no boundaries"

Baela sighs, pulling out her own phone and scrolling through her notifications, "As much as I love you y/n, this is pathetic, even for you"

You'd be offended if she wasn't completely right. And you know she's only half joking so you just shrug.

"How was Rhaena?" You ask.

"Yeah fine, usual shit with Dad. Oh I didn't tell you-" she starts.

She has that glint in her eye which spells trouble. She's got gossip and you raise your eyebrows in anticipation.

"Hold that thought, wine first?"

"Obviously"

After giggling and waltzing over to the counter to pour two glasses of the finest box wine you could get for under seven English pounds, you hand her one and wait almost too excitedly for her to spill whatever sweet gossip she has.

She sips it, almost like she needs the liquid courage to begin, and she hisses at the sweet, acidic taste.

"God that's foul" 

"It was 2 for 1!" You retort with a laugh, but she is right, it does taste foul, "Stop stalling, tell me tell me tell me" 

She looks at you as if to say bitch, you are not fucking ready.

“Dad’s married Rhaenyra” 

The force of which your jaw drops open is almost comical. You’d guessed for a while that they were at least fucking, but to just elope?!

“I need money, cos I betted on this shit happening!” 

“Oh my gosh, Rhaena was fucking hysterical. Jace and Luke aren’t surprised at all, but Alicent is beside herself in the family group chat, it should honestly be a reality TV show” Baela says scrolling through said group chat. From what you can see without being too nosy, is that there’s a lot of long paragraphs and angry emojis.

“What about Viserys, surely he’s…” you ask, trailing off to sip the pissy wine in your hands.

“Oh no, he’s thrilled. Which pisses Alicent off even more if that’s possible”

“Baela I think your Uncle’s gone insane” you bite your lip to stifle a laugh.

“No fucking kidding”

You slump back onto the sofa, “Holy shit, I am a genius. I knew the whole time” you say, smirking in victory.

“And so humble too” Baela gives a sarcastic grin which you return.

“How do you feel about it?”

Baela shucks her phone onto the coffee table, sighing, “Not bothered, we’re all adults now, so it hardly makes a difference to me. Suppose it’ll get Dad to stop bringing back random women now” she says exasperated, “but Rhaenyra gets the impression we’re all really bothered so she’s invited us all to a retreat for a week. Think she just wants to butter us up for marrying our Dad”

“Oh? Anywhere nice?”

Baela looks over, giving you a wearied look.

“What?”

“Well that brings me to you”

“Oh god, what” you ask, dropping the tone to emphasise the seriousness of the talk all of a sudden.

Baela fiddles with the remote, in an attempt to appear cute, “Well~ There’s a spare ticket going and you’re my bestest friend. And I would hate to endure a week of watching my Dad eat Rhaenyra’s face off, so come with me please?” she begs.

You sigh, “Baela usually I would love to sponge off you like that but-”

“Pleasepleaseplease~” she begs, “Rhaena’s bringing her boyfriend and we’re basically together!” 

You fake a gagging sound.

“Oh come on, a week on a beach in bikinis,sweltering weather with as many cocktails as you can hold isn’t exactly torture”

You give her an incredulous look, opening your arms to emphasise all the bags of junk food around you, “Do I look beach body ready to you?!”

“Oh fuck off, you’re hot and have an ass that can keep the world fed” 

“I know I am hot, I just don’t feel hot” you stare blankly at the TV, trying to ignore her and stuff another crisp into your mouth.

Baela sighs, “I was just thinking it would be a nice distraction, that’s all” 

“I want to it’s just…” you start, trying to think of the right words, “...I don’t feel my best”

Baela gives you a playful slap on your arm, “Look, forget your ex, he’s dumb as fuck and it’s not solving anything by staying inside with the curtains drawn all day. If you want to feel better, might be worth taking care of yourself a bit, hm?” 

Fuck her, you think, rolling your eyes, she’s right.

You hate how often she’s right. Because she gets that look on her face when she is. Always has done.

“How about that gym membership you’ve not used since February?” she asks,

“Okay firstly, ouch. Secondly, I realised I don’t know the first thing about how to work out in a gym, besides the guys there were…weird”

You shudder at the thought. It was January and so all the new year’s resolution guys were at it in full swing, using the gym as a means to try and pick up girls. And since graduating you find that more often than not the guys who hit on you were students. Maybe it was different now?

Baela pokes her cheek with her tongue, racking her brain.

“One of my cousins is a personal trainer? I could text him to see if he’s happy to take you on. Mates rates” she smiles.

You side-eye her hard. You’ve heard briefly about her cousins. Some of the stories are a bit more…eccentric than others. And even though you’ve never met them, you’ve heard enough stories to satisfy your curiosity. 

“This isn’t the manwhore cousin, right? Because if it is then no” 

She scoffs, “No. Aegon hasn’t set food in a gym since graduating and he only went cos it was free. The personal trainer one is Aemond. He’s a bit…anti-social?” she pulls a face when she says it.

“He’s anti-social and he’s a personal trainer?” you ask, eyebrow raised, “makes so much sense”

Baela scrolls through her contacts, “Yeahhh. Don’t worry though, he’s just grumpy” she explains, “want me to text him?”

Your head falls to the edge of the sofa in a huff. You want to go and on top of that, it might be nice to finally have a break. That and you’d love to shove it in your exes face when he sees you’re on holiday looking your hottest. 

“How long ‘til the holiday?”

Baela grins victoriously, “A month and a bit. He does a month course for stuff like this, I can ask him about it”

What the fuck am I getting myself into, you think briefly.

Fuck it.

“Fine”

The force at which Baela’s nails tap against the screen is almost desperate.

Baela snorts a laugh at the message and turns her phone to show you the messages.

“He seems lovely” you roll your eyes sarcastically.

“Like I said, he’s just grumpy. He’ll be professional though” she says.

You sigh, crushing the empty bag of crisps in your hands.

“Can’t wait” 

After following him on instagram, you did a bit of shameless stalking. You’d heard a little bit about Aemond from Baela talking about her family, but he seemed the most mysterious out of all of them (save for the youngest whose name she struggled to even remember). 

He had very little photos of himself, mainly progress pictures of other clients he’s helped. And he seems to be pretty successful so far. A girl with a similar body to you managed to get toned on his one-month program and looked hot afterwards, so you had some high hopes that it was possible for you as well. But you did wonder what he looked like. There were only two photos where he was in frame, and he’d been tagged by another person, looking away from the camera.

From what you could see, he was very tall, lithe and slim but built, with silver hair that had been pulled up into a bun. Ah, so he’s a man-bun type of guy. Yikes. 

Unfortunately, the photo showed very little of his face, so you couldn’t be too nosy.

You sent a very brief message, introducing yourself, trying not to cringe at the idea that he might be doing the exact same stalking to your instagram right at this moment. A shiver went up your spine at the thought. 

It’s only when you’re in TKMaxx with Baela, shopping for gym gear the next day, that you finally get a reply from him. 

“What do you think of just wearing a sports bra?” Baela says, eyeing up a black shirt.

You’re too busy staring at the message, “Hm? Oh, I’d just go in gym leggings and a bra yeah. Just got a reply from your mysterious cousin”

Baela hops over, “What’s he said? Nothing bad I hope” she grins.

 You show her the screen.

Baela raises her eyebrows, “Very formal. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised” she says, seeming surprised that he’s at least cordial.

“It’s very ‘serial-killer-esque’ of him not to have a profile picture” you joke, locking your phone again.

Baela picks out a black gym set. Black leggings with a mesh pocket on the side for your phone and a black sports bra. You nod, “Yeah looks good to me”

“Oh please you’re gonna look hot in this” she smirks, leading you over to the counter to pay.

She rewards you for your efforts by driving you to McDonald's drive-thru. A send off to junk-food so to speak.

And when Monday rolls around, you nod in the mirror. She was right, it does look hot on you. At least in the safety of your flat where there’s nobody to look at you. In a gym, surrounded by other fit people and a personal trainer you’ve never met? It might feel slightly different.

There’s a faint swirl of anxiety in your gut but you pull your trainers on, grab a hair tie from your nightstand and drive to the gym you’ve agreed to meet at. Luckily it’s your local gym, large and packed to the brim with some good equipment at least. And you briefly wonder what kind of workouts you’ll be doing before pulling into the car park.

You see him as soon as you enter the gym. He’s very tall, slender but muscular and fucking gorgeous. What the fuck, is all you can think when you shamelessly scan him from head to toe. Like the pictures, he has his long silver hair in a bun, with a few pieces having come free and falling around his face. His legs are miles long in the black sweats he’s wearing, as well as the black top that sticks a bit too snugly to his front and shoulders, making your mouth water a bit.

And you can’t help but admire his side profile, how his jaw just so naturally and sharply juts into his chin. How his cheekbones sit so prominently and high on his face, framing his features. His sharp, defined nose. And you can’t see from here because he’s looking down at his phone, but his eyelashes are unnaturally long for a man. It’s just unfair, frankly.

Shaking yourself briefly from the trance you were in, you right yourself and approach him.

He looks up to see you before you even have a chance to open your mouth. Now that he's looking at you face on, you can see the shocking blue of his right eye and the paler, soft hue of the other. Not only that but the angry scar that ran down the side of his face, extending from his forehead to the mid part of his cheek, straight through the eye.

You look at it for a split second, surmising that perhaps he's partially sighted or blind in that eye. But you choose not to say anything and instead smile with an awkward wave.

"Hey, you must be Aemond"

He openly drags his eyes over you, from head to toe, just like you did a moment ago without his knowledge. But now that you're standing right in front of him, in the gym gear that you totally don't feel a bit self conscious in, it feels a bit weird.

He doesn't reply for a moment.

"I'm y/n" you say, forcing a smile to your nervous face.

"Hm" he responds lowly, "Baela's friend" 

You pull an awkward face and nod.

You feel so stupidly small against this absolute giraffe of a man and you daren't step forward any more, for fear of looking even smaller under his judgemental and indifferent gaze.

He sighs and gestures for you to follow him, seeming disinterested as he looks down at his phone. For a brief second you wonder how this guy keeps his clients if he's this rude, but you shake the thought away, not wanting to judge too quickly.

He leads you into one of the consultation rooms, separate from the rest of the gym. He sits on one of the seats, sighing as if he's had the hardest day in the world and taking a swig of water from his bottle.

Sat across from him, you feel a bit small under his gaze. He's quite intimidating, you now find.

"Have you ever worked out before" he asks flatly.

You shrug, "I've tried I guess, but never super seriously" you laugh awkwardly, but he doesn't return it.

He runs his eyes over you again, as if to say yeah I can see that.

"Stand up. Shoes off. We're going to take your weight and measurements" he orders, going to his bag to grab some things.

It's beyond awkward and quiet in the room with him as he idly takes down your weight, height and current eating habits, which you've had to be more honest about than you'd cared to admit.

Standing in the middle of the room, he twirls his measuring tape on his fingers. He measures your upper body first, which isn't too bad until he gets to your bust. You try and look anywhere else in the room while he measures across it, his fingers landing softly at either arm, taking a note of the measurement. You internally scold yourself, he is so much taller and surely must be able to see right down the sports bra. It only serves to make your face heat up with embarrassment.

If that wasn't enough, he gets to your lower body, measuring your hips and then thighs. He gets to his knees to do it and you resist the urge to pull your hands into fists at the proximity of him to your intimate area, separated only by a thin pair of gym leggings and underwear.

He doesn't seem to bother himself with the awkwardness. And every time you look at his face, he seems indifferent, bored even. Even then, his face is unnaturally beautiful, even with the scar.

He must really not like people.

Aemond sighs having taken all his notes.

"We'll do one training session and see how much weight we can do" he instructs. You nod.

"I expect you to be in the gym four times a week, three in the week and once at the weekend. We'll do one session together a week so I can check your progress" 

His tone is so flat, all you can do is nod. He looks at you,

"Got it?" 

Your cheeks heat up, "Um, yeah"

"Good"

He leads you outside to the actual gym floor which luckily isn't too busy, side-eyeing you massively when you pull your hair up into a ponytail to get it off your neck.

His large form leads you over to where the mats are kept, haphazardly throwing two to the floor.

He doesn't say anything past one or two word commands and it's incredibly difficult to not look in the mirror in front of you to watch him as he stretches. The way he stretches his arms over his head and it lifts the hem of his shirt a little, showing his happy trail, biceps rippling.

And when he does leg stretches, instructing you to do the same, you can't help but stare at how his thighs are basically bulging out from his sweats. It takes all of your strength and will to not look any higher than that towards his hips.

He watches your form as you try and copy him stretching. And your heart almost leaps into your chest when he uses his hand to move your ankle slightly, so that you put pressure on a certain muscle. But he focuses completely, professional.

Fuck, be professional.

All caution is thrown completely to the wind when he gets you on machines. He demonstrates some of them first, starting with the so-called 'easier' ones, like the inner and outer thigh machines that look way too…suggestive.

Of course, he's got it on a ridiculous weight to demonstrate which makes you scoff a bit. And when you get on the inner thigh machine, it locks into place with your legs spread. You thank every god there is that there's no mirror in front of you on this machine.

"You have to start with your legs spread as much as possible" he states simply, pushing the pads against your legs even further. It makes your eyes widen, sinful thoughts pop up in your head. But before they take root you shake them away.

It's ridiculously hard the first few times and he raises an eyebrow.

"Really?" He mocks a bit, the tiniest of smirks on his face "you're only on 14kg" 

"Fuck off" you mutter under your breath. He tuts and changes it to 9kg, bruising your ego a bit. But you finish the set nonetheless.

You think he's a bit of a psycho, because after that little remark he has you on every leg machine available. Making fun every time you have to be on the lowest weight.

After the session, you're aching in places you didn't even know existed and you haven't even rested yet. Knowing full well you'll be achy as fuck tomorrow and even wlrse than right now. The faintest sheen of sweet is visible on your pinkened chest.

"You're weaker than I thought" 

He runs his long fingers through his hair and you want to slap that stupid fucking self-indulgent look off his smug face seeing you all out of puff like this.

"Thanks, means a lot" you say sarcastically, drinking from a water bottle. He raises an eyebrow at the attitude.

"I'll send you your workout plan. If you have any issues do me a favour and don't bother me with them" he retorts.

"Charming" you mutter under your breath once he's gone past you. You watch as he walks away, briefly appreciating his broad shoulders, until the sour taste of his poor behaviour settles in. And you huff, texting Baela immediately.

You curse every god there is that you drive a manual car, because right now the thought of having your aching leg pressing on the clutch pedal might actually drive you to mass-murder.

This is going to be a long month.

Taglist: @mrsgrwy @lovelykhaleesiii

[jumbling--towers-blog]

Do you ever want to die, just out of spite? Because someone pissed you off or treated you in some ridiculous way? It would be easier. No schoolwork. No stress. No relationship worries; what can I do what can’t I do, who can I talk to, who can’t I talk to, how do I do this, where do I put that? Lately ive been tired. Just so, so tired. And my parents think that the easy explanation is “the phone will be out in the kitchen tonight.” And for some reason they don’t understand that that isn’t going to help me? Most times I love how I can become completely lost in my phone, how I can do anything at all with it and that in itself could transport me to a mentally completely different world. But yeah nah. My reasons for being so tired could be answered with more sleep but how can we sleep when our minds are going at 100mph? exam block starts on Thursday and my first exam is maths. Its maths A so that’s fairly simple right? In a way it is but its still maths, its still education. It involves learning and at the moment that’s just too much right now. Over the next two weeks, starting next Thursday I have exam block. 5 days and 5 exams. I assignment. Monday: English Persuasive Speech, Due and Presented, Thursday: Maths, Friday: Modern, Monday: Study of Religion (OP RE), Tuesday: Legal Studies, Wednesday: Biology. I believe that that is too much. I am stressed. Recently I went to a skin care solution place, for my face. My acne isn’t extremely bad it just wasn’t going away and my mother wanted to find out why. The first session we went to the lady told me that I was cleaning my face too much, that I needed to drink more water and basically I was extremely dehydrated in my face. She gave me serum and told me to moisturise regularly, make sure I was wearing sunscreen at school as well as avoiding the sun and to use hot water on my face after school. That was fairly simple, it made me feel happy that I was making a change and actually doing something that will change my face. One week later I went back to the specialists to get a microdermabrasion *I had a phone break soz* anyway. So basically a microdermabrasion is when they use this vacuum type thing on my face to scrape off all of the dead skin. I mean, that’s wonderful I was really happy to get it done, I had beliefs that I was going to walk out of the joint and be able to see my boyfriend that night with an amazingly smooth and unblemished face. It cost $200. And that wasn’t the outcome. For starters is hurt, not a lot though. And after she was done it burnt to put moisturiser on, or any cream or serum. Just anything on my face pained me and that means touching as well. The lady assured me that this was just because the skin was brand new, that I shouldn’t be worried redness and tightness just happened. She said that there could be some bruising but that was just the red blood cells replacing the old yucky ones. Terrific. I walked out and was informed of what to put on my face, received new cleaning and moisturising gells (another $30) and was assured that my face would be looking great after 2 days, nothing a little make up couldn’t hide until then, right? I was wrong. End of story though because this is actually such a waste of time. I should be studying actually. But yeah, my cheekbones, chin and just to my eyebrows got really dry, I had really bad scabbing and brusing along my cheeks and that didn’t go away for 4 days. I had to walk around school with massive scabs on my cheeks and endure stares and questions. I started making up stories tho, as to why my face was like this.and you may think ‘why didn’t you just put make-up on it? Duh!’ well I did on Monday and the Saturday after I got it done but sadly I wasn’t able to cover these massive, dark marks. It sucked. Then when it came off (day 5/day6) my pimples were there, only red and itchy. It was so depressing. It still Is and today is day 6. To have my mum spend $200 on me for something that didn’t even work!? I feel cheated and lied to, I feel so sorry for my mum and I wish I just had have told her no. told her that I didn’t want to fix it.

   My boyfriend didn’t say much about it. Weve been dating for 2 months now and everything just feels so rushed. It feels like we’re always together though when you think about it we rarely are. At lunch time we sit and walk around together then go to each others lockers and I eventually walk to class by myself because that’s just how it works out. After school he comes and waits for me at the bus stop and gives me a hug goodbye. Then on the bus I wait for him to text me, always wanting to text him but hating it because it feels like im so connected to him. Its clinginess but its like isolation and I don’t know why. Ill sit on the bus and talk to my friends, my best friend and I catch the same bus so shes always great to talk to but this all makes no sense. Why would I feel that I don’t want to be around him but everytime I am around him I feel so calm and happy? I want to text him and don’t truly feel calm until I am ? but that’s so strange. Ive never been like that. The bf thinks that this is just my mark in every relationship where I question it. And I have been like ive been worried that spending time away from me is going to be happier than I am when im with him. And that kind of happened today, I spent the lunch with her and then he came over towards the end and we all sat together and it wasn’t too bad other than the fact that they didn’t really talk and it was kinda like being between two convos until I tried to connect them. But when I was walking to my locker with him I didn’t feel that I wanted space, I was happy. Second lunch wasn’t too good. I was happy with him being beside me but I had a friend on the other side and for some reason I might have just preferred it to be me and her? Idk maybe im just feeling too much all at once. I go overseas for 3 weeks on the 30th so maybe that will be the real turning point in our relationship. I asked him about having space and he just didn’t give much of an answer, he said that he might lose feelings from not being around me as smuch. I don’t know how to feel about that. But im not going to change my mind on this for fear of breaking up. If it wasn’t meant to be then it wasn’t meant to be.

 Well yeah so that’s it. Thanks for reading if you’re really in the mood.