#trying to force myself to be restful so i can get up early (i’m driving) but i feel too excited

[writhe]

this week has been so good and so busy: nick shoulders concert on sunday, silly / wild night out with friends on tuesday, reconnected with a friend on wednesday & saw a folk music concert (fiddlers from multiple countries!), got to check out some of the student movement yesterday & chatted with a friend i haven’t caught up with in a moment, and today i wrote a sappy letter to a friend & then played soccer with friends (-,: tomorrow morning franklin and i are going on a trip somewhere (he planned it, idk where we’re going but it’s a drive). house show sunday and i have plans to walk over with a friend (they asked me!) & also to fight someone in the yard (-:<

[dejablonde]

So I had to write a personal narrative for composition class. I wrote about post-ritual depression leading to a career change, and I thought ghumblr might enjoy. It's only 763 words (after padding it out with some extra academic phrasing) but I don't want to clog your feeds too much so it's below the cut.

"Have you ever like something so much that it rewired your brain?"

            Have you ever liked something so much that it rewired your brain? I can’t pinpoint exactly when I first heard the band called “Ghost,” but it was most likely sometime in 2022. I think the first video (from whichever of the dozen algorithms we get our content from today) pushed to my feed was their performance on Jimmy Kimmel, where they played their song Call Me Little Sunshine. I was taken aback by their theatrical look and sound. I listened to a few more songs, became a casual listener, and even bought their latest album when I came across it at Josey Records. What I can pinpoint, however, is the day I turned feral: April 9, 2023, Easter Sunday.

            Being only a casual listener still, I was curious as to what was going on when I saw that Ghost was trending on Tumblr. As I scrolled through the tag, it became more and more clear that, not only had they had dropped new music, but a new music video to match, almost entirely without warning: a cover of Phil Collins’ Jesus He Knows Me. Of course, I had to listen. From the driving intro into the first verse, to the poppy chorus, to the lyrics addressing hypocrisy from the church and its leaders, it was almost like twenty-eight years of religious trauma were healed in four minutes and five seconds, as if it were that easy. I wasn’t cured, but they certainly made a dent. I listened to it on repeat and branched into the rest of their discography.  After two weeks, I finally caved and bought myself a pit ticket to their upcoming Dallas tour date.

            When the day finally came, five months later, I could barely contain myself. I felt if I could leap hard enough, I would jump right out of my skin. I had taken advantage of the fact that I had the previous day off from work and pretended that I was taking a small trip for Labor Day. This allowed me the day off for the concert. My employers already think I’m strange enough; I didn’t see any need to make it worse by asking for time off to line up for a concert by a Satanic rock band hours early on a Tuesday. Despite the 103-degree weather that day, I made it to the general admission line around noon. I chatted with my new line buddies over the next several hours about the band, how we got into them, and a little bit about our lives in general over the water that the venue security provided. For the first time in a while, I was surrounded by people like me.

            They say that concerts can be a religious experience. I’m not sure I agree, but they’re not exactly wrong. It really is overwhelming, or at least can be. Many aspects are similar, if not the same. Between the community and camaraderie with your fellow “congregants” and the feeling of the music all the way down to your bones, there’s certainly something that happens internally. This concert (or ritual, as Ghost fans lovingly call them) was no exception. After all, when you’re a stone’s throw away from your obsession, bathed in light and confetti, you can’t help but feel a little changed.

            Post-concert depression is a very real and powerful force. It’s even stronger when you come back to work after finally feeling happy and rested only to be met with snideness not even fifteen minutes into the day. I was already dealing with years of declining morale. I wanted to be happy again, like I was the night before. I started looking at job postings immediately. I nearly got one in the same field but interviewed poorly. Eventually, I decided to make up for lost time and try to make a move into what my high-school-aged-self wanted. Or at least something close. Unfortunately, even though apprenticeship-type situations are common in the music industry, it’s very hard to break in without any kind of provable experience. I looked into some recording technology schools but didn’t really feel the need to go into debt on a loan for them. I was about to lose hope, but then I had a lightbulb moment and found that Dallas College has a program for Recording Technology. My application and registration were late in the game, but I was able to squeeze in before the start of this semester. Now, I’m finally doing something I want to do, and it’s all thanks to a funky little Swede in black and white makeup.

[imfearlessfics]

Chapter 4: The Tour 

Song: Choices by LESSERAFIM, Dreams Come True by aespa

Pairing: Yunjin x female reader

Genre: Romance, forbidden love

Warnings: none

Vocabulary: unnie = older sister, refers to older female with whom you're close, maknae = youngest member of the group

Word count: 2.2k

Peeling my eyes away from Yunjin long enough to come back to reality was agonizing. I can’t tell if I made up some cosmic connection just now or if I could see her eyes glistening as well, but I can dwell on that later. Either way, it doesn’t really matter considering this meeting is still in session. 

“Hi, I’m Yunjin! It’s so nice to meet you! You’re from the states, right? It’ll be nice to have someone new to share some stories with!” She shakes my hand and chuckles and my heart snaps in two. She’s just as kind as I’d hoped she’d be. Too often you hear stories about people meeting their idols and being horribly disappointed, but she’s so warm and welcoming that I almost feel like I belong. 

“Yeah, I’m from the states! t’s nice to meet you too.” My face is beet-red, and the butterflies in my stomach are so wild I swear she can probably hear the fluttering of wings. She’s just so pretty. 

The girls make their way to the table while everyone fills them in, and I can feel myself staring at her. It would be truly pointless to try to find a flaw, and I can’t help but curse the universe for pouring every ounce of effort into this one woman and leaving the rest of us to pale in comparison. But as welcoming as she is, I can’t help but to feel so small right now. These women have inspired me - been my driving force - for months now, and here we are in the same room together. I still can’t even wrap my brain around landing such an incredible position! I know it will take time to truly feel like I belong, but for now, I will relish the fact that I get to be around such strong women day in and day out.  

The meeting drones on for another hour, and by the end of it, my brain is fried. I get ready to pack up my things when President Hwang pipes up, “Y/n, you can go set your things in the girls’ dorm for now, and then you can start your tour of the building with them.” With them?! Like…alone, with them?! Can my heart catch a break?! 

“Yeah, follow us y/n! We will make sure you know your way around.” Sakura chimes. It’s hard to feel worried around her - she’s such a ray of sunshine. Plus, it’s not like it’s her fault that I’m absolutely starstruck right now. 

As I’m about to pick up my laptop case, Yunjin’s hand reaches down and brushes mine like we’re in some sort of rom-com. She’s really gonna carry my case for me? She could stand to be less perfect, then I might actually have a shot of not becoming even more enamored with her. I start to say that I can grab it myself, but she insists.   

“Oh my gosh please, let me. You’re taking on a lot by working with us, so this is the least I can do!” She says with a smile on her face. I know my cheeks flush, and I catch Eunchae looking at the two of us out of the corner of my eye, each of us with one hand still on the case. I quickly remove my hand and look away - I don’t think anyone can see how much Yunjin affects me yet, but I have to be safe. I can’t risk my career this early in the game. 

I gather up the rest of my things and we all file out of the room and into the hallway. This building is massive, and it’s a little overwhelming how many celebrities’ faces are plastered everywhere. 

We make our way to their dorm on the second floor. They open the door, and I can’t help but feel like I’m intruding on something very private. I look around expecting to see awards lining the shelves or stage outfits hanging on gold racks, but the living room is … normal. Just like you’d expect a typical apartment to look like. There’s some clothes scattered about, books on a shelf in the corner, and a couple dishes on the counter. Nothing out of the ordinary, and in that moment, they all become so much more human. At the core of it all, they’re just young women following their dreams, and I feel a huge sense of relief. 

“Where do you wanna start, y/n? The studios? The practice rooms? There’s a lot to see, and we have plenty of time.” Kazuha says with a kind smile. 

“Have you eaten, y/n? It’s been a pretty busy morning for you, so we can all grab some food real quick and then head on the tour?” Chaewon suggests. Everyone starts to agree, throwing out different cafes in the building when Eunchae interrupts.

“Oh my gosh! I completely forgot that I have a performance check-in tomorrow, and really need to practice and get some feedback.” She would almost be believable if it wasn’t for a little glint in her eye that only I seem to catch. 

“What are you talking about? Didn’t you have your check-in earlier in the -” Chaewon starts to mention, but Eunchae cuts her off again. 

“No! No, you must be thinking of the week before. I really should get a little feedback to make sure I’m ready, though, so maybe one of us can hang back with y/n to grab a snack, and we can all meet up in a few?” I don’t know if it’s a maknae thing, but this has “ulterior motive” written all over it. There’s no way she would just “forget” about a check-in with their choreographer, but she is adamant, and I want to know why. 

Sakura starts to say that she will hang behind with me, getting ready to turn my way when Eunchae stops her, “Oh no, that won’t do, I think I especially need some notes from you. Hey, here’s a totally random thought! Maybe since Yunjin unnie and y/n are both from the states, they can hang for a little! I personally think that is a great idea and there’s really not enough time to go back and forth about it so let’s go! See you two in a bit!” Everyone chuckles at her urgency, but no one seems to think this is out of the norm. Definitely a maknae thing. She’s up to something for sure, but I can’t help the rush of excitement that fills me at the thought of one-on-one time with Yunjin, so I brush it off.

Yunjin laughs in exasperation at their maknae’s antics, but as the four of them walk out, she turns to me and just shrugs her shoulders. “She’s usually pretty weird, but even I don’t understand that girl sometimes.” She grabs a sweater and her bag and notices that I’ve barely moved in the last 5 minutes. “Y/n, you can relax now. This is your new home! You can set down your things, I promise we don’t mind.” 

“I think I’m still a little starstruck, to be honest.” I admit, “I don’t wanna sound weird or anything, but I’m a huge fan of yours…” I trail off because I feel too exposed, but she doesn’t seem like the type to judge, so I continue. “There was a long time where I didn’t think I would ever leave my hometown, and I just felt so…trapped? I guess? And then I heard your guys’ music for the first time and I just, I don’t know, I just felt kinda free.” She looks genuinely interested in what I have to say, and I know I shouldn’t feel the pitter-patter of my heart so strongly because of that, but I don’t know if it’s up to me at this point. “Moving here was my way of hitting the restart button, ya know? Just starting from scratch and doing something I’m actually passionate about for once. Does that make sense?” I realize I just word vomited for no reason, and immediately feel embarrassed. I look down and chuckle, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. You definitely didn’t ask to hear any of that.” 

She looks at me with warmth in her eyes. “Y/n, if anyone can understand that, it’s me. Please don’t feel embarrassed about sharing that kind of stuff with me. There was a long time where I didn’t know if it would be possible for me to pursue my dreams either, but music is what got me through. I don’t think it’s weird at all that you felt inspired by us - I’m actually really flattered.” Yeah, she definitely doesn’t realize the effect her kindness is having on me, but I don’t really want to cry in front of the woman I’m low-key crushing on, so I try to break up the atmosphere. 

“Thank you for not making me feel weird about…telling you my life story.” She chuckles, and some of the heaviness dissipates. “I’m really excited to get to work with you all, and I hope I can stick around for a while. Did you want to grab a snack before we catch up with the other girls?”

“Yeah, that sounds great” She makes sure I have my things, and we head to a little cafe on the first floor before making our way to the practice rooms.

“I figure it’ll be easier if we’re all in the same area of the building, plus you can get a feel for the space so you can plan out the best way to film the videos.” She explains. We ended up getting something small from the cafe, but I can barely focus on forming sentences right now, let alone choke down a whole meal! And even though I’m terribly nervous to be alone with Yunjin, something about this feels seamless. She’s so easy going, and she’s going out of her way to make sure I don’t feel too overwhelmed on my first day. Making sure we go to the least busy cafe, taking backways to avoid bumping into too many new people. She already feels like a friend I’ve known forever, but something deep inside me feels a twinge at the word “friend”, and I internally scold myself for that ridiculous feeling. This is just a little crush born from all the excitement of your first day. She’s beautiful and friendly (and perfect) and you’re overwhelmed by all the changes going on in your life right now. That is all this is. 

We finally make it to the practice rooms, and she opens the door to one of them to let me inside. It’s kinda crazy to see this in person. I’ve seen countless videos filmed from inside these rooms, and now, it’s basically my office! 

“So most of our dance practice videos are taken in this room, but sometimes we film in the bigger rooms for the like … dance challenges or if we’re doing a TikTok trend or something. I can show you that one later, but that might be where Eunchae and the girls are right now. For now, do you wanna set down your stuff, and we can try filming something right now? I don’t know if you need to like … adjust the lighting or find a certain spot in the room or something. I’m not a professional like you.” She chuckles and looks almost…bashful? I have to be making that up, so I rid my mind of the thought. 

“Yunjin, I think it’s safe to say that you’re the professional out of the two of us. You’re an idol, and I’m just barely starting my career! But you’re right, it would be good to get a feel for the room and what spots will be best to film in. Lemme just get my camera set up.”

I fiddle with my camera while she goes to the computer to put on some music, and “Choices” starts playing through the speakers, but instead of doing the official choreography, she does something completely unexpected. She’s flailing her arms, pretending to twerk, and leaping around the room, and I start laughing hysterically. 

“Come on, y/n, let’s see your moves. I know it might be hard to keep up since I’m an idol, but I gotta see what you can do” She calls out, still running around the room like someone who’s never even heard the word “choreography”. I stare in disbelief at this woman who’s a certified trained professional. A woman who probably took classes in poise, grace, and presentability. A woman who is making a fool of herself just so that I can let my guard down and enjoy this experience. 

I carefully set my camera down and hurry over to join her in the center of the room, both of us dancing like morons and just appreciating a moment between two newfound friends living their dreams. 

We are laughing and moving around so much that we don’t notice the 4 girls peeking in through the window on the door, wondering what on earth has gotten into us. Eunchae is the first to pop in, almost immediately joining in on the chaos. The other girls are soon to follow, and soon we are all having the time of our lives just messing around. 

And in the midst of utter nonsense, I realize then and there: I’m gonna be okay. 

____________________________________________________________

Hi everyone! I'm sorry it's been over a week; I was having some health issues, so I couldn't get to my laptop for a bit! I hope you enjoy this next chapter :) Lemme know what you think of it so far!

Also! When the dialogue is italicized, it's happening in Korean. If it's not italicized, it's in English!

[riahlynn101]

"Of Headaches and Heartaches" (8).

A/N: Long time, no see! Sorry I've been MIA on this. I lost motivation on this, but I'm back :D Thanks for sticking with me! I have chapter 9 done, and I'm half-way done with chapter 10. You can expect weekly updates for this story from here on out (probably on Wednesday or early Thursday morning).

Chapter Eight

--

An hour later, Gregory’s sleeping in Luis’ old playpen he managed to dig up from the basement. Not exactly ideal, but then again, nothing about this situation is ideal. 

Ten or so feet away, sitting side-by-side on the loveseat, Vanessa and Luis are laser-focused on their devices’ screens. Each conducting their own search: Luis on his computer and Vanessa on her phone. 

Luis taps the down arrow, scrolling through the local news articles. “You’d think someone would have posted something about a missing kid…right?” 

“Maybe? Unless he was abandoned?”

“Poor kid,” Luis murmurs sympathetically. 

“Not one post.” Frustrated, she taps her keyboard with way more force than necessary. She stands up and starts to pace, eyes still glued to her phone.

“Maybe they lost him and are too afraid that they’ll be judged harshly if they admit they lost him...?” It’s weak reasoning, at best, but if Luis is good at anything, it’s being outwardly optimistic. 

“Not an excuse,” Vanessa snaps, finally looking up from her phone. 

“Didn’t say it was…”

She groans and shakes her head, as if trying to clear it. “Sorry. I know it’s not your fault. Actually, I should be thanking you right now.”

“Aw, don’t even worry about it. Just try to remember I’m only here to help. This whole situation will go a lot smoother if we’re working on it together.” Luis closes his laptop, setting it on the coffee table. “I think we both need some rest.” He stands, motioning further down the hall. “I just cleaned the guest room a week ago, so it should be all set up.” 

Vanessa stares at him. 

He falters, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean…unless you want to drive home. But…but it’s late. And the roads were already bad. I can’t imagine they’d be any better now, and-”

“No, sorry. Long day. It took me a second to process what you were saying. But yeah, I’d like that- uh, sleeping in the guest room.”

She starts for the hallway but pauses, turning back to Luis. 

“It’s the third room down the hall to the right,” he supplies helpfully. 

“Yes, thank you. Just, what about Gregory?”

“Oh, well, I figured I would camp out on the couch.” He smiles, plopping back down on the couch to emphasize his point. 

“No,” she says, placing her hands on her hips. “This is your house, and it’s only fair that you get a goodnight’s sleep without worrying about babysitting.”

“Nah.” He grins, already laying down. There’s a throw blanket on the back of the couch that his abuela made for him years ago. “I’ll be fine.”

“Gregory is my responsibility. I brought this on myself.”

Luis tsks her, propping himself up on his elbow. “What’s with all the talk of bringing things on ourselves? It’s depressing, and I already told you we were in this together .” A sudden wave of exhaustion sends him laying back down. “Besides, it’s not like that police will care about whose fault it is. We’re both just as culpable.”

Vanessa sighs. “You’re right.”

“That’d be a first.”

“But I still feel bad about sleeping in a bed when you’re uncomfortable on a couch.”

“You’re not going to drop this, are you?” Luis asks, looking up at the ceiling. 

“Nope.”

“Then there’s only one solution.”

-x-x-x-

Vanessa shifts. The air mattress has deflated in some places, and she’s nearly rolled off the bed because of it. 

Per her previous concerns about Luis being uncomfortable. Her co worker took it upon himself to rummage around his basement in search of the one thing more uncomfortable than an antique couch -

a hole-ridden, duct taped-together, dust-covered air mattress. 

They couldn’t risk waking Gregory up, so he used a manual air pump to avoid making unnecessary noises.

“Ness, you can still sleep in the guest room,” Luis told her, once they were both settled in. “Or I could trade with you. I take the-”

“I’m okay. Thank you. Let’s try to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow,” had been her only response back.

Now, three hours later and two hours until she has to report for work, Vanessa is rethinking every single life choice she ever made to get here. She turns on her side, hoping to find rest for half-an-hour or fifteen minutes - contrary to popular belief, she isn’t picky. Sleep is sleep. 

She closes her eyes, the long day behind and ahead of her weighing heavily on her shoulders. Nearly asleep…almost asleep.

“Momma!”

Vanessa jolts awake, sitting straight up. Behind her, she hears Luis mutter something definitely not of the English language. 

Not having fallen asleep herself, she’s the first to act. In seconds she’s hurrying across the air mattress, and trying her hardest not to stumble into the coffee table Luis put off to the side to make room for the air mattress. 

Once she makes it off the death contraption falsely labeled a mattress, Vanessa is pleased to see Gregory is, in fact, not actively dying, on fire, or dead. He looks up at her, face red and scrunched up. 

Upon seeing her, he lifts his arms. “Up,” he says.

Luis, finally awake enough to remember their predicament, joins her at the playpen. “I’ll go make breakfast. Let me know if you need any help.” He gently pats Gregory’s head. “Goodmorning, bud.”

He leaves for the kitchen. 

“Up,” he repeats, eyes pleading with her. 

“Yes, yes, sorry.” Vanessa picks him up and props him up against her hip. “Did you have a good rest?”

Gregory lays his head against her shoulder. 

“Hm, not very talkative in the morning?” He doesn’t respond to her question, which oddly is the only answer she needs. 

She does her best to make him look presentable and leaves him with Luis-who has already made breakfast and gotten himself ready-while she gets ready for work. 

Shutting the bathroom door, Vanessa slides down to the floor. In truth she’s pretty much ready. She didn’t go back to her apartment last night for an extra change of clothes, and the only thing she needs to do is pull back her hair. But she just wants to be alone.

Even though Luis seems gung-ho about sharing the blame if they’re both caught, and equal responsibility if they’re not, Vanessa can’t shake the feeling that something’s decidedly off about this entire ordeal. Well…. besides the obvious.

There’s a knock at the door. She jumps, leaning forward away from the door.

“Ness?” Luis asks, giving one last tap at the door. “It’s getting to be that time.” He laughs (Vanessa’s always liked his laugh, it’s warm and deep and….) “I wouldn’t want your breakfast to get cold.”

“Thanks, Lu,” she calls. “I’ll be out in sec.”

Luis hums back in response, leaving her be. 

She gets to her feet. Bracing herself against the sink, she looks into the mirror. “Okay Vanessa, you can do this. Today has to be better than yesterday, right?”

-x-x-x-

They carpool together in Vanessa’s car, and arrive at the pizzaplex a quarter past eight. She parks in the nearest parking spot to the side door. Gregory is conked out by the time Luis is pulling him from the seat.

He groans, trying to snuggle deeper into the seat. 

“I know, bud, but you have to go to daycare,” Luis says, sympathetically. “At least for a few hours.”

They move quickly, keeping an eye out for their coworkers. The side door takes a moment to open, the sensor having been frozen over the previous night. Impatiently, Vanessa rubbed the stupid little box with the sleeve of her jacket, hoping to make it work. 

Somehow, after winning the battle against the door, they manage to make it to the daycare without any more problems. 

It’s still early, so the only kids that would be in the daycare would be the early, early morning staff’s kids. And not many of them have kids in the first place, so it’s no surprise really that the whole place looks nearly empty. 

Sundrop prances up to them. “ Oh ,” he says, enthusiastic in a way only a robot, programmed to always be happy and excitable no matter the circumstances, could be. “You came back.”

“Yeah…” she says, because honestly, what choice did she have? If she didn’t come back, then the daycare attendant could go blab to the higher ups. Which undoubtedly would lead them to questioning her, and Vanessa has never been good under-

“Sunny!” Gregory squeals. He wriggles out of Luis’ grasp, toddling over to Sundrop. “Missed you,” he murmurs, hugging the daycare attendant’s legs. 

“Well, we should go clock in,” Luis says, nudging her to the exit. “I’ll be back to pick Gregory up by four. Bye Gregory.”

Sundrop gives only the barest hint of acknowledgement, but knowing what these robots are capable of, it’s likely he heard him loud and clear. 

“Bye Gregory,” Vanessa says, allowing Luis to lead her to the door. 

Gregory, too preoccupied with the colorful room and potential friends, doesn’t see them leave. 

-x-x-x-

The rest of the day is spent doing menial tasks, dealing with entitled customers, and researching all the facebook pages and websites dealing with Hurricane’s missing and runaway children. 

On her lunch, she sees Luis. He’s just as frustrated as her, with the progress they’ve made regarding Gregory. 

“Maybe he was abandoned,” Luis floats the idea, apprehension bubbling to the surface, but he quickly recants it. 

“You could be right.” 

“I hope I’m not.”

He’s paged not long after, leaving Vanessa with her thoughts.

[roosterforme]

ok so i have some like drama & i need a little advice if u wouldn’t mind😅 (also fair trigger warning at the end i do mention someone ik having suicidal thoughts so if you’re not comfortable i understand)

so i’m 21 but i got ahead in school (i finished my undergrad last spring & im currently in grad school) & over the summer i decided to join the “party” scene (mostly bc i felt like finishing early + covid robbed me of my college years) (also worst mistake of my life bc that was the worst summer i’ve ever had)

i ended up coming out of the summer w/ little bit of a drinking problem as well. fast forward to nov, my friend group split into 2 groups bc one liked another & he didn’t like him back. so obvi i go w/ one friend bc he’s my bff & this girl i didn’t know all that well “joins” our “side”. she’s 24 almost & the complete opposite to me (not saying that it’s bad it’s just i’m a rlly studious/reserved person most of the time, call me boring i would prefer to stay home & watch a shitty movie where as she is big into partying & super outgoing)

i wanted to distance myself from her before the friend group broke up just bc i knew we didn’t have a lot in common + she also belittled me & tried to force me into her own habits sometimes (making fun of my obsession w/ top gun, joking abt the one guy she knows i’ve been w/ when she’s been w/ guys way worse, making fun of me for liking taylor swift, screaming at me for not finishing the rest of a bottle of liquor (we had already drank half of it earlier) at 6 am when the party ended 3 hours prior, trying to get me to do molly/coke when i told her no so many times)

so anyways, finally like 2 days ago she called my friend & i a loser bc we both used dating apps to find guys instead of going to bars or something (idk why he would be a loser, he’s not even 21 yet, how’s he gonna get inside the bar??) (i’m also usually pretty non confrontational, esp w/ her bc ik she can get heated but i was severely sleep deprived/stressed) so i told her if we’re losers than what is she since the last guy she was in love w/ & met at a bar had gone to jail & was currently going back soon. all she said was that she wasn’t gonna talk to us the rest of the week & i didn’t even respond bc i didn’t care. the next day my other friend in the gc was like “u should talk to so & so” & i was like listen idc anymore & he tried saying he knew i cared when i don’t… i even told him i don’t have time to care (since i’m in grad school + working & the only free time i have is used for tgm tumblr or tiktok😭) i mean he shouldn’t rlly be all that surprised since i had told him in october i was gonna distance myself from her bc our lifestyles/morals (she literally drinks & drives & does not care) just weren’t the same.

my thing is, am i a cunt for just like ghosting her?? i was already planning on it so long ago. i thought maybe i could try to stick it out w/ her but i just couldn’t, esp when she just didn’t try to understand why i’ve had to give up certain things bc of my schooling/career path (she’s never gone to college + her job is… well her coworkers are 16-18 while she is 24 if that says anything). it was also rlly hard to deal w/ her constant texts abt wanting to die/kill herself (i’ve tried helping as much as i could, but as someone who has dealt w/ thoughts abt that stuff & out of recovery it’s hard to be around someone with them) she has tried to snap me twice w/ pics & i just left her on open but idk, i probably am a bitch tbh 🤷🏻‍♀️

Nope, ghost away, nonny. Ghost away.

[chuluoyi]

Pity 60?! ALMOST THERE! You can do it! 🥳 2 ?! Goodness how even 😭😭 The lowest I got was 6... Not any better but 2 is so close to being flat broke...

Yeahhh her dad is such an ass Maxi is the sweetest! And she's got a super hot husband now so I guess she DID benefit from being married off 😚 Oh I've read that too! Edna is such a girlboss I love her! It's different from the normal damsel in distress kind of Female lead, and it's really refreshing. What else have you read?

I hope so! But I'm still 18 and I wanna enjoy being single hahaha! I've seen my friends cry and weep over guys and I feel like I want to stay unburdened by the weight of a relationship till I'm like 19-20-ish? Thanks Chu! haha it's getting super rainy where I'm from... It's so cold istg...

Ahaha! I'm not THAT young. But I do agree that my watchlist is soul-sucking dhdhdh. Though, there's something about sad animes, don't you think?

HAHAHA you're young too! And you finished Naruto during your summer break?! Omg just how much did you watch per day you're amazing.

Right?! We deserve to know, Gege! Have mercy please was killing off our 3 JJK daddies not enough-

Hmm I honestly preferred the old art, even if the animation wasn't on par with Mappa's. I did pick it up after awhile, but Instagram spoiled me so I lost motivation after 2-3 episodes of season 4... I should really delete all social media accounts before watching a new anime...

Oh no is he okay HAHAHA was the ending that sad I'm slightly tempted to binge the rest of AOT after my exams are over hmm... How could he?!?! Gojo dying is one of the few anime deaths that shook the world 😭😭Or is he just jealous 🤭

Omg a fellow monkey! Sugu's monkey cult is expanding- Ngl I would gladly be a monkey if it means I can get slightly closer to Suguru-

Also I've received your TOT req!! The bakerlon card is legit so cute ahhh 😫😫

-🪩

i… gave up🥲 seems like there’s no hope for me 😩 i’ll wait until next year then and save the s chips i get from the monthly pass for the upcoming events🤧

HAHAHAH the benefit is right there!!🤭 i love maxi’s progress though and YES I LOVE EDNA SO MUCH omg she’s so badass, takes care of her own shits and the plot twist is soooo omg i finished that manhwa on one night and was left sooo full😩 it was one of the best manhwas for me

hmm i think i’ve read quite many arranged marriage stories but suddenly i can’t think of any of them🥲 but another great manhwa i read is unholy blood! i love hayan sm she’s also badass and her romance with euntae drives me almost insane bcs of the slow burn🤧 but it’s so so great by the ending i was sad to let it go. have you read it?? and do you have any other recs?

so true! i honestly don’t think there’s any benefit for us to force ourselves to have a boyfriend/girlfriend that early (especially if they say it’s for the status—a classmate of mine once told me that she was dating this guy just to know how being in a relationship was like💀 she’s messed up) because in the end, we are looking for the real thing. the real thing doesn’t come easily, it takes time. fyi my current boyfriend is my first bf, we started dating just last year, which means i have my first bf at 23🥹 and i’m so glad i heed my mom then, that it’s no use to have boyfriends when you were still in high school or college as chances are they are still immature themselves.

but if you do find someone who is good in school, then it’s okay to try! just don’t be discouraged if you don’t because nah we need the true ones😉

(aw sorry to come off as lecturing i can’t stop myself but my mom’s advice is what saves me🥹 and i really do think it’s so good)

me too!! it’s rainy and cold nowadays *sigh* but at least it’s not as hot?🥹

THERES 🗣️ SOMETHING 🗣️ ABOUT 🗣️ ANGST 🗣️ that made me feel like i want to jump out of the window yet satisfied my inner soul at the same time🤧🤧🤧

HAHAHA i felt old bcs now i’m paying for my own bills and impulse buying😭 JSJSJS nono i watched naruto from eps 300 onwards actually🥹 still, that’s quite a lot 😭 but yeah, i could watch at least 5-10 eps per day back then 🥲

PFFT DADDIES so true 😔😔 *sigh* my life has never been the same ever since that gojo sukuna fight. i started looking for spoilers (i didn’t follow the manga before), installed twitter and reading theories. my heart used to be thumping so hard each time i went over the spoilers you know? like i know gojo was going to lose somehow but i hope so much he didn’t and then when chapter 235 dropped and gege took a break i was like “!!!!” only to 236 to reverse it in the most brutal way💀

ahh i see… i’m starting to think that aot is for boys😭 like most of my guy friends are like “this is the best anime of my life” while my girl friends are just bamboozled with everything🥹

he’s mourning and coping the way we do for our jjk daddies🤭🤭 save to say that karma gets him bcs he doesn’t follow the manga HAHAHA maybe both i don’t know but he gets 🙄🙄 when i swoon over gojo ahahhaha

oh? good luck on your exam disco anon!! i know you’ll do well!!🫶🏻

HAHAHAHAH OMG that’s the term he used too!!🤣 like he’s okay being suguru’s monkey just because🥹

waah! that’s good then!! the card is so CHIC but i haven’t gotten the chance to read it yet along with the side story card🥲🥲🥲 i will after this weekend i think bcs work has been so tiring *sigh*

[eliceislandent]

02-06-2023 A Day In The Life - Attempting To Get More Done In Our Busy Days.

6:45am: woke up. I sometimes have to force myself to stay in bed when I wake up at like 3am after five hours of sleep. I feel well rested and am tempted to do the whole “rise and grind” thing, however, these days I am more focused on trying to live consistent and balanced best practices. So more sleep. More than I think I need. Needless to say by 6:45, I was up and at ‘em. My son was in the bed and had decided to sleep horizontally so I to disentangle myself from his legs. I had feet in my face. Appropriately humbling, but not a reason to stay in bed any longer. Amazingly, he stayed asleep. Not so for Nic who was also waking up and about to start the day.

7-8: Made the kids lunch. Made the kids bed. Did some quick meditation/calming breaths with my oldest daughter, then packed them off to school.

8-830: No breakfast today. Fasting for Purim. Purim is itself a great story. And like many in the Jewish religion features a woman — Queen Esther — as the hero of the story. Bravely and shrewdly maneuvering her way around the King’s evil advisor, Haman (BOO!) who wants the King Achasueverus to kill all the Jews in the Persian empire.

That is until Queen Esther reveals to her husband, the King, at the exact right moment that she herself is a Jew. The tide is turned. Achasueverus orders the Jews not to be touched and instead that Haman and his fellow schemers to be killed for their proposed plot. We fast as Jews to commemorate the fact that before Queen Esther saved us, we were facing death at the ends of the most powerful force in the world at that time: The Persian Empire.

I love a good story.

I like when the underdogs win.

When the long shot prevails.

And I love a good twist.

The Purim story has it all.

Unfortunately, I don’t have breakfast to look forward to. SO as not to make my fast any harder, Nicole makes her own breakfast and by 9, after getting dressed, I was on the road with my son taking him to school.

9:30am: Successful school drop off. My son and I rock out Justin Bieber and the Jonas Bros. Then I head back home.

9:30: Writing. Wait, writing? Aren’t I in the car, driving? I am. So, what gives???

One of the things I am working on while writing the next book in “The Eddie Ankin series, “The Crew” is the use of dictation. I have long been interested in this and tried it a few times with the dragon software. But as a Mac user, (Dragon is a PC-based software, which I believe it still is) the process wasn’t seamless. It also required that I carry a digital recorder which I often forgot, or brought with me but never took out of my backpack.

However, despite these unsuccessful early attempts, I stayed interested in the sea of dictations.

The last year or two has seen major improvement in the built-n dictation abilities of Macs and PCs. There is no need for a secondary software or additional equipment. And the computer, or as is often the case, my cell phone, transcribe the words I am saying as I speak them. Every so often the microphone beeps off and the computer/cell phone stops transcribing, but it’s usually obvious and I just have to hit the microphone button to start recording again.

I’m not what you would call a “hack gut.” I mean that in the tech sense not the writer one (though hopefully you won’t think of me as a hack writer either”). In this case, I am referring to the idea of dividing methods that shortcut workflow, save time and maximize efficiency.

Dictation is something I’ve always understood practically as a tool that, if mastered, can help me to do more in less time.

I mean I can type pretty fast. But I cannot type as fast as I speak. With dictation I can get more words written in a single writing session. It’s not without mistakes but depending on the headset I’m using, the place where I’m recording (my office; the car), and my own diction, it is pretty darn good.

It’s not getting the words down faster that I appreciate about addiction dictation. It's also that I am a terrible slow editor. One of the part of my editing process is to read the book out loud and hear how it sounds, particularly the dialogue. By doing dictation I am getting a jump on this process. Sometimes a sentence sounds good in my head but does not sound so good when spoken allowed.

Plus, the more I do dictation the better the computer get at understanding me, and I get at not giving in to some of my bad habits as a writer. Most conveniently, I can dictate anywhere more or less. As long as I have my phone and some quiet. Whereas when I am typing I have to be at my desk or maybe the couch, because I am working off my laptop.

Today, in the car I was able to dictate the beginnings of a chapter. Nearly 800 words in 20 minutes. After a revision pass that’s likely to end up around 650-700 words. But still, 650 words in 20 minutes. That means I can get a chapter done in an hour. Maybe less. Unfortunately, I am not yet that practiced at doing dictation. So, I haven’t been enjoying the full fruits of my labor with it since I am still finding my way. It is strange how hearing a story spoken aloud makes it “read” different than when it is written on paper. Or read in a book.

It’s also worth keeping this in mind as I explore the ins and outs of turning my first novel, “The Strange Crimes of Beatrice Clover” into an audiobook.

On the dictation front, a shout out to Kevin J. Anderson who is probably the first author I ever heard talk about dictation as a way to write books and to Steve Higgs, who writes amazing cozy mysteries, who also sings the efficiency and time saving virtues of dictation. Also, Norman Lear, the iconic, prolific, and seemingly immortal television producer who created “All in the Family” who is also a practitioner of dictating his writing. In his memoir, “Even This I Get To Experience” he tells the story of how he used dictation to overcome a terrible case of writers block from which he was suffering. Now, I’m not nearly so proficient at it…yet. But, as the saying goes, practice makes perfect. When I get home I’ll edit what I “wrote” (dictated) in the car

10am: It’s the day before Purim so the morning prayers run a little longer this morning, but by

10:45 I am back at the writing, stopping to place a couple of work phone calls around noon to people waking up on the west coast.

12:30pm I take Nicole to a dentist appointment on my way to pick up my son. Some more dictation, but this time into “Eddie Ankin” Book One “The Double” for a chapter I am in the process of editing/revising. I don’t usually use dictation for revisions but in this case I know the few spots I wanted to make some changes. I also knew pretty clearly the way I wanted to change them. So, I dictated those changes on the way home.

1p: Grocery shopping. Tough when fasting. I live vicariously through my son who eats Oreos from the pack and drinks a juice pack. He tries the chicken nuggets from the deli counter, but isn’t a fan. My children are particular eaters.

1:40 Head home.

2: After getting my son situated I go back to work. I edit what I dictated early this morning, and I finish this post. In what feels like no time I am back in the car going to pick up my girls from their school. Normally, Nicole will do one or even both of the pick ups and drops off on days when she works from home, but today she had a bunch of appointments and meetings so I handled them today.

2:45 Nic gets home and I head out the doo to pickup the girls at school

3: Make snack for the kids while Nic does a work meeting.

3:30 Play with kids while breaking to bring this post current.

More to come….

(I am trying to be better about consistently updating these daily logs when I write them. The goal is Monday, Wednesday Friday, but life and work has thus far gotten in my way. I am recommitting myself and redoubling my efforts. I believe doing so is not only a useful record of where my times goes…But, also a record of a time in my life I hope to look back on someday and appreciate this part of the journey. Also, because I know how much I enjoyed and found it useful when others who are successful recorded their days and shared it with others. Hopefully, anyone following along finds this at least a little bit useful and entertaining.)

[cevansbrat0007]

Hello World: The Barber Twins

Summary: The twins decide to make their appearance a little earlier than Reader and Andy likes. Andy Barber x Black!Reader

Warnings: Pregnant Reader, Distress, Fluff, Babies, Minors DNI.

A/N: Please welcome the twins! Let me know your feedback. All mistakes my own!

___

It was too soon. 

Your water had broken too early. 

The girls were at school. Andy was in court. 

You were almost a month and half too early. This couldn’t be happening. You grip your belly as a force of pain washes over you. You’d been through labor before - twice now - but this was something altogether different. 

Lord, fuck, it hurt! Shit, it hurt! Where was your cell phone? You had to call someone. Dear God, you couldn’t drive. 

You grab your phone off of the counter before giving into your urge to curl up on the floor. You hit Carol’s number, your nextdoor neighbor.

Thankfully she answers. “Hey there, Y/N. How are you - ?”

You’re quick to interrupt her. “Carol - Carol, I need help. Oh, God!” Another wave of pain hits you. “I think it’s the babies! Please!”

“I’m comin’, honey.” She promises. “I’m comin’ right now. I’m runnin’ out the front door for you. Can you unlock it for me?”

“I’m tryin’! I’m tryin’ to get there!” You swear as you crawl towards the door. Taking a small moment, you reach into your pants to feel at the unwelcome wetness. 

You pull them out and look at your fingers.

Blood.

“I’m almost at your door, kiddo. C’mon! I just need you to unlock it for me!” Carol tells you.

You keep crawling. You crawl until you can unlock the front door. 

And Carol is standing right there.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She kneels down beside you.

“Carol, there’s blood, you tell her. There’s blood.” You grab her shirt. “These babies are not due for another month and a half. It’s too soon! I keep telling them it’s too soon!” The tears won’t stop falling. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” She grabs your face. “We’ve got this. Everything is gonna be fine. We’re not gonna panic. Because at the end of this, you are going to have two more brand new babies. And I’m going to be selfish on behalf of myself and Walter, so that means two more babies to come and read to us. Two more babies to watch out for on Halloween.” She calls 911 and tells them about your situation while you try to breathe. 

“Really, you’re doing us a favor, honey.” She tells you as she holds the phone to her ear. “And yes, that’s her address.”

“Oh, god it fucking hurts!” You twist in Carol’s arms. “Shit! They’re coming, Carol! And it’s too goddamned soon! I need Andy!” You press her hand to your belly as the tears drip down your face. 

“Relax, relax. I know it hurts. An ambulance is on its way.” Carol coughs. “You guys gotta hurry. She’s really hurtin’!”

“We’ve got a team en-route.” The dispatcher says.

___

Three Hours Later…

You’re resting. Carol keeps stroking your hand until Andy walks in, looking all kinds of tousled and unkempt. 

God, you were tired.

“Thank you, Carol.” You watch as he grabs her in a hug. “And I please thank Walter. I mean, I’ll do it when I see him too, but him grabbing the girls before my Mom could get them… God…”

“Don’t you worry about it.” She pats his cheek. “We were glad we could be there. And we’re glad Y/N knew something wasn’t right. That is why we’re here. Family isn’t just based on blood, baby.” She pinches his cheek. “Call us. Let us know what you need. We’re here. If you need someone for the girls, call us. We're gonna call, you anyway."

“Thank you.” And whispers as he kisses her hand. “Thank you so much.”

“Baby girl, how are you?” Your husband asks as he sits down next to you. “How do you feel?”

“They gave me something to slow down my labor and contractions.” You stroke a hand over his face. “But baby, they’re coming. The twins…” You tell him as you try to hold it together. “It’s too early. We could be looking at any kind of issues - I keep talkin' to 'em., tellin' 'em no..."

“Stop. I mean I'm glad your talking to them.” Andy growls. “But we thought we were gonna have issues with Katrina. Didn’t we?”

You nod. 

“And what happened? She’s just the most delightful, wonderful little peach that I’ve ever met. No issues. And, Bianca was totally fine when she was born. We are two for two.”

Andy leans down to kiss you over and over again. “I need you to be positive, baby. I’m going to share a secret with you. You are the barometer for myself and this family. You tell me things are going to be okay, and I believe you.” His phone rings. "You are the literally flight attendant for this house. If you say it's going to be okay, it's gonna be okay. So it's gonna be okay. Repeat that for me."

"It's gonna be okay." You respond back as you squeeze his hand. Just in time for him to get a call.

“Hi, Mom. Yes, Y/N is okay. She’s right here. The babies want to talk to her?” You nod your head at him. “Put them on the phone for their Mama. She wants to talk to them too.”

___

If someone told you to push one more time, you were going to kill them. They’d told you to not push when you’d initially gotten to the hospital. And then they’d given you something to turn it off. Because you had wanted to push. 

And now you’d been given somethin else that made you body want to hurt everything. 

“Come on, baby! One more good one. Come on!” Andy coaches you.

“Shut up.” You grunt. “”Oh, my fucking God!”

“Don’t care. Give us one more.”

“Listen to your husband, Y/N. Just this one time. I’m sure he’s stupid just like me, but just breathe. Give me another push and —” 

“Aahh ahh ahhh!” You scream.

“Girl number one is out!” Dr. Wilson yells. “Hallelujah, girl number one is out! Whoo boy, is it a good day! “He allows you to rest for a few minutes. 

“C’mon, Y/N another push - maybe two more and – ohh here we go! Girl number two is coming! Girl number two is - oh God…”

“What?” You whisper, exhausted. “Andy what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

“Dr. Wilson - “ Andy starts… 

His heart is in his chest. Your heart is in your chest.

“Daddy, Mama, relax.” Dr. Wilson looks over at your husband. “It’s just that Baby Girl number two is really Baby Boy number one.”

“Huh?” You both utter at the same time. 

“It means you are the proud parents of a boy and a girl.”

Andy looks at you before he begins to wither –

“Daddy’s going down! Get him! Catch him!” “The staff moves quickly to shove a chair under your husband’s wobbly feet. Yes, he almost passed out again. 

“We have a boy?” You whisper. “They said girls. We only have girl names.” You try to take a deep breath. “But they said girls, and I don’t have another name..”

“Yes, okay. I know and sometimes - " Wilson starts… “That’s hard and…Mr. Barber…” 

“Isa’ boy…” Is all Andy garbles out as he sits in a chair. “A boy.”

They kay both babies on your chest. “Hi. Hi babies. Hi my sweet girl, and hi my little man. Why’d you hide so much, huh? Why you gotta make big entrance like that? We don’t even gotta a name for you cuz’ didn’t tell us you were comin’!”

“So no names yet?” Someone asks. You look over at your husband who needed to keep breathing. “We have a name for her, not this one yet. He surprised us. We’ll work on it.” 

____

The Next Day…

You sit there and look at your twins in their little incubators. They were small, but thankfully not too small. They should maybe be able to go home in a couple of weeks. 

“Are you sure about the name?” Andy asks you. “I mean, are you sure, sure?”

“I am. This little man needs one. And I loved the one we picked.”

“You picked it.”

“But you said yes. If you’re not okay, that’s alright, but tell me now.” You tell him as you stroke his jaw.

“I’m okay with it. I love the name. And I love them. And I love BiBi and KitCat. And, most of fucking all, I love you.” Andy presses a kiss to your hand. 

At the end of the day, your little family was complete. You had your Andy Bear…

But then, you had your Bianca Maria…your “BiBi”.

And then you had your Katrina Claire…your “KitCat”.

And now you had your Aurora Rose…your “Rory” or “RoRo”.

And now you had your Andrew Jacob Barber Jr. - “your A.J.”

BiBi. KitCat. RoRo. A.J.

Life was good.

END

[epigstolary]

The Middle of Nowhere

Technically, I’m free to come and go as I please. My chaser doesn’t keep me under lock and key. There’s no gainer sex dungeon, no bed with handcuffs built into it, no livestock feeding machine with a harness he lashes me into. Anybody could come up and knock on the door, and there’s a decent chance my 800 pounds would even waddle up to the door to greet them. I’m not a captive. I’m not even hidden. I’m just… in the middle of nowhere.

At first, the idea of a farmhouse way out in the country seemed idyllic. Peace, quiet, privacy, and the miles of fields and plains stretching far away. It didn’t hurt that, in a rural place like where I was from, there was virtually nobody interested in feeding and growing someone — except for him, and he was surprisingly close. We met for the first time at the diner in town, but it didn’t take long for the discussion to turn to where he lived — miles away, miles down a dirt road cutting off from the already desolate rural route running along the edge of his land. Nobody around to spy or judge. Someplace where we could be ourselves.

I jumped at the chance to move in with him, and I started blowing up almost immediately. I had the opportunity to indulge myself, and I took it — while he’d be out at work, I’d be sitting around his farmhouse, always eating or snacking between meals, never having to stop and go anywhere. I went from my original fat body to morbidly obese in a matter of weeks, and in six months nearly doubled my weight. He bought me clothes with room to grow, but faster than either of us expected my belly was fully hanging out the bottom of my shirts, resting on the thighs that were stretching my formerly baggy pants to the bursting point. My newly flabbier arms bulged out of the sleeves, flexing the fabric as they lifted more food into my waiting mouth. I didn’t strictly need clothes, since I never went anywhere, but we both liked to keep up the pretense that I was living something of a normal life.

There was no question that he wanted to see me fatter; but he never forced me to eat, never got angry when I said I wanted to slow down or try to eat a little healthier. He just kept cooking, kept serving, kept making sure everything I couldn’t resist was always in reach. That was all it took. It wasn’t long before my belly and arms made me far too large to fit in the small cab of his old pickup. The discovery that I was now isolated here — completely under his power and dependent on him to leave, confined as effectually as if I were chained — took my breath away. Even if I could somehow squeeze behind the wheel, the fat bulging out around it was enough to keep me from turning it or reaching the pedals, however much I might push against that resistance. At that point, my only real means of leaving became tantalizingly close but forever out of reach. I could see it, touch it, get as close as I wanted; but I could never use it to save myself again.

I did try to walk away once. When I hit 500 pounds and he made an entire cake for me to finish to celebrate, I had a minor freak out at just how big I was getting and decided I had to get out. So I started walking in the middle of the night. But at a very sedentary quarter-ton, it didn’t take long before I had burned through the panic adrenaline and started getting winded hauling so much fat around. My back ached from holding up my juggling belly, my thighs burned from the unfamiliar friction of walking a long distance, and my chest clenched tight from exertion and the struggle to breathe. I collapsed about a half-mile toward the road, a sweaty, blubbery heap; and early in the morning I heard his pickup chugging up behind me. Without a word, with no reproach, he helped me up, hoisting my bulbous ass into the cab of the truck. He drove us both back toward the house, my body jiggling with every bump and dip. A pound of bacon and a plate of chocolate pancakes calmed me down just fine.

Things only accelerated from there. Early on, I’d been able to take a snack out to the yard and walk along the fence to get some fresh air. Now, I’m barely able to waddle out to the porch and plop down on the bench, my overhang bumping against my knees with each step. I’ll go out with a plate of food, my ass filling the two-seater bench in its entirety, and watch the occasional car glide by on the distant road, as remote and unreachable to me as the moon. Even if I really did want to leave — even if I thought I could go somewhere, ignore my hunger long enough to get down to a “normal” size, and go back to my life as it was — how would I do it? I’m not struggling for miles to the road carrying nearly a half-ton of blubber, if I could even make it down the driveway on my own without getting completely winded; and even if I did, nobody is picking up a hitchhiker who can barely fit into a pickup bed.

Who could I call for help, then? The police? And tell them what, that they should arrest my roommate because I ate myself to the size of a small elephant? This is the midwest; there’s a decent chance I wouldn’t even be the fattest person they’ve dealt with that week. And there’s nobody here driving for Uber, no cab company within a hundred miles, even if I could fit in their car. I could hire an ambulance, but with what money? And anyway, I’m not ready for the shame of being strapped into a gurney and bundled away by a troupe of men, all gawking at how much lard I’d been able to pack onto my frame and tut-tutting at the fat cow who let their indulgence and morbid obesity get so out of control. That might come whether I want it to or not someday, but not yet.

So here I sit — chewing, swallowing, consuming. Eating so much I can almost feel my body expanding with new fat every day. More weight pressing me down, making the distant road that much further away. My thighs and calves jiggling more, my pudge-filled arms swinging more to balance my weight, my belly hanging lower every day. And he sits here with me — smiling, complimenting, admiring my growing rolls and tighter clothes and slower steps and heavier breaths. Watching as I build my own prison, bite by bite.

It won’t be long before the dozen or so steps to the porch and the now-too-narrow front door are more trouble than they’re worth. Then more and more of my meals will be taken on the couch because it’s not worth my fat-laden frame hobbling over to the dining table. Then eventually, maybe, I stop getting up at all, and just let my fat swell and grow in place. How much bigger will I get then, I wonder.

He doesn’t have to keep me locked up, because I’m doing the job well enough on my own. And I know he’ll never stop wanting me bigger. I can see it in his eyes when he imagines my body under another hundred, five hundred, thousand pounds of fat, wobbling pitifully amidst a pile of unmoving lard and struggling desperately to function at all. What is he going to do to get me there? What’s going to happen to me when I’m too big to go anywhere and he has me, in the middle of nowhere, all to himself?

I guess all I can do is keep eating and find out.

[ungeschliffen]

Bo Sinclair x Reader (Part 1/?)

Disclaimer: I’ve never posted my writing before but I enjoy a lot of the slasher x reader content posted on here and I wanted to try making some myself. Gn!reader. Written from Bo’s perspective since I was trying to get a feeling for his character. If I end up continuing this the perspective might change. Pretty expository. Sorry about that. Also SFW.

Wordcount: 1.1k

It was around noon when Bo left the small church, lighting a cigarette on the doorstep as the heavy wooden door fell shut behind him. The ghost town was eerily quiet, like always. As much as he saw it as his duty to take care of it and his brothers, in the back of his mind a thought came to light frequently. What would it be like if this wasn’t his reality. Maybe he would’ve become an actual mechanic. Maybe he would’ve left Ambrose behind, settle down and have a home and family on his own. It was silly of course. That possibility was long gone after Ma passed. No, maybe even before that. He was the oldest Sinclair after all. What would his brothers even do without him. Simple-minded Lester and isolated Vincent. The phone vibrated in his pocket, reminding him of the work that was on the plan today. The youngest brother had informed him about a car driving down the dirt road towards the town in the morning. If he hadn’t managed to pick them up himself and bring them here this was the sign that the car must be close.

 You have to work with what you’re given and this was his home and always would be.

He dropped the cigarette to the ground when he heard the car in the distance. They would have to stop outside the town like they always do. To his surprise he heard only one car door. Were they traveling alone? If so, this would be over quickly. Bo exhaled deeply and sat down on the step leading to the church’s entrance, head in his hands while the steps grew louder, the faint sound of people crying and grieving could be heard from behind the large door.

 “Hello? Thank goodness.”

 He lifted his head, scanning the victim with his bright blue eyes. They seemed to be relieved to see him for now. On first glance he guessed their age around his own. Early 30s? Late 20s? He did not respond, immersing in the role of the grieving funeral visitor.

“A real person! I saw the grandma doll in the window over there and thought I drove right into an abandoned outdoor museum or something.” Bo’s blood ran cold. Was there even a reason to keep up the act at this point? Yes. He had to check if they were truly alone. If someone was waiting in the car and got away it would end in a disaster. “Old Lady Howard?” he asked, making up a name on the spot. “Well, it’s not everyday we get visitors here in Ambrose. Can imagine why she would be curious.”

“Are you joking?”

Change of plans. Change of role. “You got me.” He got up from the spot and approached them, showing his signature smirk. They were perceptive, best to not get them too close to the wax figures for now. “And you’re right about this place! A huge outdoor museum. The wax figures used to be a big attraction in this area. Not anymore, but someone still has to take care of this place, right?” He forced a chuckle. “Name’s Bo.”

 “Y/N.”

 There was an awkward silence now, where Bo found them eyeing him just as carefully as he did them earlier. “Well, what brings you here? I’m a busy man.” They sighed, gesturing vaguely towards the direction they came from. “Got lost. Got here with the rest of the gas and now I’m stuck.” How convenient. Now we’re back on script. “You’re in luck. There’s a gas station over there - a real one - where I’m working most of the day. I’m doing a lot of the handy work around here. I can help you out.” He waved for them to follow him as he lead the way. “Where were you heading, Y/N?“ “Nowhere.”

He looked at them over his shoulder with a raised brow. “Quit my job yesterday and just sat down and started driving. I’m starting new.” This was playing out almost too perfectly. He put his hands in the pockets of the black suit pants he was wearing and clicked his tongue. “We’ve all been there but you actually went through with it. No one you can go to? No one waiting for you?” “No one.” He exhaled deeply once more and ran his hand through his hair. They walked the rest of the way in silence and Y/N entered the gas station without hesitation when he held the door open for them. As glad as he could be that everything was working out more than great with this victim, there was something about this situation that didn’t sit right with him. He blamed it on his own expectations. After all, in his mind he was always the one that made sure everything around town worked as it should; cleaned up after and protected his brother, planned out elaborate acts that would fool the visitors into false security to fall victim to both, his brother’s wax craft and his own murderous activities, and made sure they would reach their shared goal of perfecting and finishing their mother’s work. It was only natural to expect that something went wrong every time between all of this.

“Wait here.” Bo was about to head into the back to find an object he could finish the job with quickly when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry for the trouble. I appreciate the help a lot.” “It’s no problem.” He was about to walk away again but the hand on his shoulder was persistent. “It’s just- You said there was a lot of work around here right? I don’t have anywhere to go and the empty houses look spacious enough. I know it’s a lot to ask but..would it be alright if I crashed here for a couple of days? I’m desperate and willing to work.” Truly, his improvising has worked too well this time around. It was tempting to reveal the truth now, have them realize the true dread of the situation they were in. “That IS a lot to ask.” He brushed the hand off with more irritation than he intended on letting show. He couldn’t help it. Bo was barely able to stop himself from exploding at any point. This response lead to Y/N explaining how desperate they were all over again and it was hard to deny that he found a certain enjoyment in seeing them practically beg like this. They had nowhere to go to and no one looking for them at least for the time being. He would have his fun with this naïve lost puppy and the smirk curled his lips once again. “Fine.”

[uppermocns-moved]

if you’re taking requests maybe roadtrips with eren, jean, armin and connie?

road trips

oh my god this is the greatest idea i’ve ever heard. 

eren, jean, armin, connie + road trips

(going on a road trip with all four of them at the end)

cw: fairly gender-neutral, modernverse, weed references

𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝗴𝗲𝗿

eren insists on driving the whole time, no matter how long the trip is.

his phone is plugged into the aux because “my car, my rules” but he doesn’t complain when you unlock his phone and start picking songs. 

forcing him to pull into a drive-through so he can eat real food, not just the 44 oz of mountain dew and monster energy he got from the gas station before you left.

hand-feeding him french fries.

playing i spy when it’s too dark to see anything, or on long highway stretches where the scenery doesn’t change. 

“i spy... something blue.” “is it the sky?” “you’re so good at this, babe.”

it’s very easy to talk him into impulsive detours, even if they’re in the opposite direction – he may be the one driving, but he’s relying solely on you for instructions. just tell him where you’re going and he’ll take you there.

“___ is only a two hour drive from here! we should go!” “yeah? okay.” 

driving with the windows down and enjoying the cool nighttime air.

car-camping in national parks – putting the seats down in the back and throwing together your bed for the night, sitting on the hood of his car to look at the stars with no light pollution, getting baked and watching a dumb show off his phone before going to sleep. 

at this point, eren realizes he forgot to pack his phone charger so you’ve gotta share.

getting breakfast together. eren’s not a morning person, but he can’t be grumpy when you’re looking so cute and sleepy in one of his hoodies. 

eren driving with one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours, occasionally lifting it up for a kiss as a silent thank you for being there with him. as if you’d dream of being anywhere else. 

𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗸𝗶𝗿���𝘁𝗲𝗶𝗻

listening to the radio to keep things spontaneous, usually the classic rock stations. 

jean taking his hands off the wheel because he needs to air-bass along.

listening to true crime podcasts when the radio cuts out – it’s funny watching jean’s face twist up in disgust during crime scene details, and sometimes he yells in response as if the podcasters can hear him. you also play detective about who you think did it – loser buys food at the next stop. 

music keeps things energetic at the start, but podcasts keep his mind stimulated when he’s been driving for a while. 

the original plan is to split the driving, but you end up falling asleep with your face smushed against the window and jean doesn’t have the heart to wake you up. he doesn’t mind driving the rest of the way.

stopping for food every couple of hours to make sure you’re both eating properly, not just snacks. you do have plenty of snacks, though. 

jean going "uh – excuse me” whenever you open a bag of something and sticking his hand out. he’s like a dad, he always needs a handful of whatever you’re having. sharing is caring. 

jean always packs a lot of unnecessary things, and he will reserve the right to say i told you so when his double-hammock comes in handy.

limited stops along the way (minus food/gas/bathroom) – getting there relatively early means you can relax in the hotel room and maybe explore/go out for dinner later that night.  

when you take over driving, jean is a big window-watcher and takes a lot of pictures of the mountains/scenery. 

already making plans on cool things you can do on the way back, when you have no time restraints – day trips, scenic rest stops, hikes, etc. 

𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘁

stopping at a starbucks first-thing to get drinks for the road (he makes sure to get some food too so you’re not just running off a venti iced coffee)

splitting the driving – armin is the better (and calmer) navigator so you usually take the first and final shift. 

dozens of cute polaroids to put in your adventure scrapbook

researches fun (and romantic) things you can do when you get to your destination and reads them aloud to you. you come up with a plan together. that waterfall hike sounded really fun. 

armin takes lots of videos because he likes making little montages for his socials

you’re in control of the music. armin likes when you show him new artists – he’ll slowly nod his head along and inevitably add the songs to his spotify. he really likes snail mail. 

he takes over driving when you get tired – he likes holding your hand when he drives, or sometimes you’ll lean over and rest your hand on his thigh.

armin trying not to melt when you put on one of his hoodies for warmth – you have your own, but his are comfier and they smell like him. 

silly games to pass time like i spy or looking for different license plates. it’s fun until armin gets clever and spies things like the mile marker from 10 miles back. 

you insist you aren’t going to fall asleep because you wanna keep him company, but you end up curling into your pillow and dozing off mid-conversation. it’s adorable, and he doesn’t mind. he’ll usually turn on a podcast or an audiobook. 

armin stays awake the whole time but it catches up with him once you reach your destination – all he wants to do is cuddle and rest up

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿

leaving a day in advance or very early in the morning because you stop at every tourist attraction along the way.

scenic lookout? let’s go there. world’s biggest ball of yarn? fuck, count me in. meteor craters? already merging onto the exit. dinosaur bones? you read my mind. 

picking up cool souvenirs along the way like geodes and stickers to put on his water bottle. maybe a funky lil alien to hang from the rearview mirror, along with his 20 tree air fresheners. 

taking cute, cheesy pictures of and with each other – connie posing with his arms out like he’s holding the mountain, standing in front of national park signs, etc. 

you collaborated on a road-trip playlist in advance (it’s 12 hours long)

somehow you end up listening to veggie tales or absolutely losing it until the car starts rocking to britney spears

"i love this song” to every song, as if he didn’t put it on the playlist 

listening to connie sing along and butcher all the lyrics. impressive falsetto, though. 

arsenal of snacks – more than you realistically need

screaming every time you see a new “welcome to ___” sign

“WELCOME TO ___!” “WOOOOOO!”

connie rocking the socks with slides. it’s comfortable. 

pulling through drive throughs every once in a while for food, continuously forgetting to throw out the trash bag from your last stop. 

𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺

stopping at the gas station to fill up the gas tank and stock up on snacks for the road – almost everything from the candy aisle, giant bags of doritos, slushies, energy drinks. nobody really thinks to get actual food.

the driving is split between eren “i’m serious, pull the fucking car over or i’m gonna piss myself, jean” jaeger and jean “eren stop honking my fucking horn, traffic won’t go any faster” kirstein. armin is the navigator because they’ll both get everyone lost.

everyone has their turn with the aux cord – until connie cracks himself up playing the same song over and over, then you have to pry it from eren’s cold, dead hands.

so many pictures

impulsive stops at tourist attractions.

playing dumb games to pass the time (quickly turns into replacing one word on each sign with “poop” because they’re all a bunch of children).

finally stopping at a diner later that night for real food

making it to the campsite and setting up tents and hammocks

getting baked around the campfire and telling spooky stories

connie complaining and scaring himself while he wanders off into the dark forest to find a spot to piss

smores (ofc)

going on group hikes and jumping into lakes/down waterfalls together. video of jean belly-flopping.

[inkandpen22]

Dazed and Confused ( S1: 3/?)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild language and violence 

Word Count: 3.1k

Part Summary: At Tina’s party, Y/N wants to forget all of her problems. Things take a turn when Billy makes a move on her, angering Steve

Masterlist

Arriving at Tina’s after dropping Dustin at Mike’s, I am in much need of some good old spiked punch. I yank down my gray oversized sweatshirt some more so that it hangs low off my shoulder. As I cross the threshold into the house, the heat of the crowded living room slaps me in the face. Directly to my left, the kitchen AKA the alcohol hub. I slip between bodies and end up at the counter covered with semi-empty bottles and old plastic cups. Most importantly, a bowl of maroon punch sits in the corner. I grab a cup and make my way over. A boy stands in front of it but I reach around him and scoop up some of the mystery substance.

“What’s in this?” I hear a voice holler behind me.

I turn around to answer but freeze when I realize it’s Nancy. She stares at me equally stunned. My face falls, this is awkward. Seriously universe? I couldn’t have at least one drink before bumping into her?

Steve appears behind her looking slick as ever in his black sunglasses and matching blazer.

“Everclear is my guess,” I answer, acting civil.

She nods timidly, “thanks…”

I step out of her way so she can get some of her own. Steve’s head travels up and down slowly with a blank expression. I can’t see his eyes but I assume he’s studying my costume. A gray oversized sweatshirt that hangs off the shoulder, red heels, matching earrings, and some shorts, though they’re unnoticeable. I can feel him starring me down through those stupid Ray-Bans. Silently, I beg for him to not bring up our encounter in the parking lot. All I wish for tonight is to drown out reality and try to forget. He’s a human ticking time bomb. The tension between us could be cut with a knife.

“Are you finally going to tell me what you are?” Nancy jumps in, forcing me to break my staring contest with her boyfriend.

I open my mouth to answer but Steve beats him to it.

“Flashdance,” he answers for me. “It’s one of her favorites.”

He acts distant, unattached, distracted by the party but I see right through it. There’s something he’s not saying. He says things like this as if it’s common knowledge. A random person wouldn’t describe my eyes as Y/E/C but gray depending on the lighting. One minute, he calls my eyes beautiful and the next he’s starring me down like a disapproving parent. The hell Harrington?!

Nancy gushes, apparently she and I are okay all of a sudden, despite early today with the whole Barb thing. Plus, I think she’s already been drinking for awhile so buzzed Nancy is fun Nancy.

“That’s so cute! You look hot!” She pulls me into a hug.

Over her shoulder, I glimpse up at Steve as he lifts his glasses to rest of his head. His brown eyes threaten to expose my upset from earlier. I get that he’s pissed about my neglect for my feelings. He wants to talk about what was wrong but right now we’re at a party and parties aren’t meant for depressing conversations.

“Let’s go dance!” Nancy suggests, already tugging me into the living room.

Steve calls after her but she ignores him. He follows behind us through the crowd with a groan. In the center of the living room, Nancy stops and turns to me with a bright grin. She cheers as she tosses her head back.

“Woohoo!” She laughs.

This is what I wanted, normalcy. We’re surrounded by our friends, drinking, dancing, being stupid! We did this before everything so why can’t we do it now? Perhaps after tonight, everything will fall back into place.

_______________________________________

On my third game of flip-cup, I’m beyond buzzed. In fact, when I walk I float. I’m on cloud nine. Here, this carefree and lively state is exactly where I wanted to be. Naturally, I’m competitive and amazing at drinking games so I finish my third game with yet another win. I cheer as Tommy from algebra hands me a cup of who knows what as my reward.

“Hey there beautiful,” a husky voice greets from behind me.

I spin around and kind of become dizzy from the action but catch myself.

It’s Billy.

“Hey hottie,” I smirk.

He snickers and closes the space between us to whisper in my ear. “How about you and I go somewhere a little more private?”

That’s a nice thought. He is cute. His ass could have its own zip code. Plus, he has no shirt on under that leather jacket, hello washboard like abs. His California tanned skin glistens under a thin layer of sweat. Damn, he’s a human Ken doll.

He’s no Steve though. Wait… what? I don’t think of Steve like that. Why would I think that? Um, yeah, that’s a no! Then again, Steve is always there for me. Sometimes it can be annoying how he’s always there. It means he cares but I don’t want to dump all of my drama on him. Then, he gets upset when I don’t open up. I hate it when I hurt him. I love him so much that when he’s in pain so am I.

“Okay,” I blurt out without truly thinking.

“Cool,” I hear him whisper as he takes my hand and starts pulling me toward the stairs across the room.

Wait, what? What am I doing? This isn’t me. I don’t like Billy. He treats Steve like shit. If anything I should kick his pretty ass. Though if I tried he’d probably murder me.

I glance down at his hand engulfing mine. It’s all rough and twice the size of my own. If we make it upstairs, it’ll be just him and I. I’ll be defenseless. I may be drunk but I’m not oblivious. My intuition is still working and it’s screaming for me to pull my shit together.

“Hey Billy? I don’t think…” I press my heels into the floor, slowing him down just as we reach the bottom of the stairs.

Aggressively, he whips around and purposefully towers over me to act intimidating. “What? Now, you’re saying no? Are you messing me? Playing with me!” He accuses.

I shake my head dramatically, “no! No, that’s not what-”

“Oh, so you still want to do this,” he presses.

Too impatient for an answer, he continues up the stairs. The grip he has on me has shifted up to my wrist. I attempt to tug myself free but fear dislocating it, his strength is too great. I stumble up the stairs behind me and I startle to feel dizzy. I think it’s safe to say I’ve had too much.

“No,” I whine, “I don’t want to! Stop! Please! I don’t want to! No!”

“Hey!” A booming voice echoes from the bottom of the stairs.

Rapid footsteps approach from behind me and a rush of relief consumes me when Steve appears beside me. He places a protective hand on my back.

“What the hell is going here?” He directs at Billy, taking note of his fist wrapped around my wrist.

“Nothing that concerns you, Harrington. Y/N and I were just heading upstairs.” He jolts his hand forward, causing me to traveling with it.

Steve instantly pries Billy’s hand from my body. Then, shoves him in the back, flying him forward to land with his ass on the stairs. “Don’t you ever touch her again! You hear me?!” He sneers. His face turns this deep red as he pants angrily.

The two start bickering but I can’t keep up. I see three Steves and a couple Billys shouting in each other’s faces. I lean against the railing unsteadily and slide down to sit on the steps. My eyes suddenly feel very heavy.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” I announce to no one in particular.

I decide to get some rest and shut my eyes. It’s okay, Steve’s here. He’ll protect me.

I’m not sure how much time has past when I hear Tommy and some of the other basketball boys come to break up the fight.

“Come on Y/N,” I hear Steve whisper to me, “let’s get you home.”

Feeling as light as a feather, I’m picked up like a sleepy child off the ground. For a moment, I fall asleep again. I rest my head on his chest and ponder the rare opportunity to sleep without being afraid of being eaten by a monster.

“Y/N?” I hear someone repeatedly call my name. “Y/N, wake up!”

I ease open my eyes and at first my vision is blurry but then they eventually adjust. Steve glances down at me as he we cross the threshold hold to the front yard.

“You smell like sunshine and all things exquisite,” I mumble to myself, adjusting myself in his arms to curl closer to his warmth.

“Even when hammered you still manage to be a walking thesaurus,” he teases.

Opps, he heard me. Oh well, I wasn’t lying. He smells like vanilla, the ocean, sugar, spice, and everything nice.

Goosebumps course over my skin as a brisk October breeze hits me. I shiver slightly and Steve holds me closer.

“We’re almost to my car. I’ll turn on the heat high. You’re okay,” he promises calmly.

Playing the hero, Steve places me into the passenger seat gently and straps me in. I toss my head to the side and rest my eyes again. He shuts the door for me before jogging to the driver’s side. The car drowns out the sound of chaos coming from the party and creates a sense of security. Steve slides behind the wheel and for some reason I choose now to act reasonable.

“Have you been drinking? If so, you shouldn’t drive,” I state like a health textbook.

He chuckles, popping in the keys. “I’m sober. Promise.”

“That’s nice. Good to know,” I yawn.

The last thing I can remember of the ride home is Steve turning on the car.

______________________________________

I wake up silently as Steve pulls up in front of my house. He’s unaware of my stare as he finishes parking and turning off the car.

“Hazel,” I tell him, announcing my woken state.

He looks to me with scrunched eyebrows, all confused. It’s cute when he does that. He’s cute. Geez, what the heck am I saying? He’s dating my best friend! Steve is Steve and Katherine, we don’t mix, at least that way.

“What?” He questions, turning to face me.

“Your eyes… they’re hazel…” I repeat softly with a yawn. “But, it really depends on the lighting.”

He snickers, and astonished expression blesses his features. The subtle blush forming on his cheeks makes me smile to see him all bashful because of my comment. He has no idea how gorgeous we truly is, inside and out. He glances down at his lap, at his hands fidgeting with a button on his jacket, then back up at me with hooded eyes.

“See, right now!” I point out, “they’re a dark brown like a burnt caramel, basically black. When you’re really focused on a task or upset about something, they go dark. Then, when you’re really happy or excited, they turn to a light hazel… like seaglass. It’s how I can tell if something’s bothering you. You don’t even have to tell me half the time. All I have to do is look into your eyes and I know,” I state a matter-of-factly with a light snicker.

I shift you see him directly and tuck a few strands of my hair away from my face. He watches my every move patiently, eagerly, for me to say something more, anything. I can’t speak for him but my heart won’t stop racing. Is it possible to have stage fright in a conversation? I feel like a mannequin, on display. Nervously, I twirl my hair at the ends and find myself unable to meet his gaze anymore.

“Your pupils are rarely small,” I add quietly. “They’re usually really big and take up most of your eye giving off the illusion they’re black. One thing that never changes is…”  I make a circle with my finger in front of my eye to demonstrate, “is the gold rim around each of them.” I lower my hand into my lap and play with the end of my sweatshirt. “That’s my favorite part… ” I confess timidly.

I wouldn’t be saying these things if I were sober. I wish he would say something, anything. He must think I’m crazy. He finds me with Billy heading up stairs. I can only imagine what he must think of me now. Embarrassed beyond belief and sobering up, I excuse myself.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I unbuckle myself. “See you Monday!”

Swiftly, I climb out of the car. As I walk toward my front door, I curse myself for acting so stupid! Geez, what was I thinking? ‘The gold rim around each of them, that’s my favorite part!’ What kind of mushy, guhsy, marshmallow fluff is that? Ew! If he never spoke to me again I would judge that as completely reasonable! He has a girlfriend! He’s taken! Completely off limits! Why did I spew out this creepy nonsense to him like a total idiot? I’m not some lovesick teenage girl! I’m going to go to my room, put in some Guns N’ Roses, and just scream into my pillow all weekend! It sounds like an excellent plan to me because I just ruined my friendship with Steve forever! Add Nancy to that list because once he fills her in on what I said I’ll lose both of them!

“Y/N!” He calls after me.

I ignore it as I march faster toward the door. He’s only going to call me crazy because I was acting crazy!

“Y/N, wait!” He repeats as I hear him shut the car door and run toward me.

“Goodnight, Steve!” I urge him away without turning around.

His footsteps speed up until they come to a halt directly behind me. I reach for the door handle, my freedom. Desperately, he grips my forearm and steps in front of me, blocking the front door.

“Look, could you just slow down for a sec?” He yells at me as he pants to catch his breath.

“No! I can’t slow down! I just want to go inside, get in my pajamas, and forget tonight ever happened! Alright? Now, excuse me,” I gesture for him to get out of the way.

Reluctantly, paired with an overly dramatic eye roll, he steps aside. Despite wanting his to leave, I thank him quietly for cracking open the front door slowly, making sure not to wake anyone.

“Nance and I broke up…” Steve drops on me.

My heart leaps and I stop dead in my tracks. Unsure of what to do or say, I remain still in the doorway and wait for him to say more.

“She never loved me,” he explains with a heartbroken tone. “At least… I don’t think she did…”

Shit. Please don’t tell me that, Harrington. It only makes me want you more. He’s always so close but too far out of reach. I care about him more than anything but he’ll never mine. I’m just the friend.

I spin on my heels and offer him a sympathetic smile, “would you like to come in?”

He nods, clearly miserable. I step aside, allowing him in. After shutting the door behind us, I warn him to be quiet so we don’t wake my parents. He nods slowly and slips his hand into mine. Never breaking eye contact with me, he leads the way through the moonlit house toward my room. His platonic touch is so blissful, I can only imagine what it feels like otherwise.

_________________________________

Steve and I sit on my bed in our usual positions with my record player going quietly. He lounges like a patient in therapy and me, acting as his therapist, criss-cross beside him. He explains everything. He describes how drunk Nancy got and how he followed her to the bathroom. It was there they got into a fight. She admitted feeling guilty for the loss of Barb. Then, she called all of it bullshit. Us acting like carefree teenagers, never telling Barb’s parents the truth, her love for Steve, all of it is bullshit. He asked Jonathan to take her home and that’s when he stumbled upon me and Billy.

Watching Steve relive it all and hearing the pain in his voice breaks my heart. How could Nance do this to him? I get that she’s going through something, we all are. I’m by no means normal. I’m hiding everything for Pete’s sake! I haven’t been myself for over a year. Steve was just now becoming truly happy again! He was putting on a brave face for Nancy for so long! Now, she crushed it. She crushed him.

I reach and place my hand over his as they rest intertwined on his stomach. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

“I really loved her. At least, I think I did. I don’t know anymore. I thought she loved me too.”

“I did too,” I tell him honestly.

He glances away from the ceiling down to me, “what can I do?”

I wish I knew the answer. I wish there was a way I could take away his pain. Yet, I have nothing. I shrug, “I’m not entirely sure. I think you should at least talk to her.

Tomorrow, of course, when she’s sobered up. Perhaps, she was just drunk and didn’t mean what she said. She wasn’t in the proper mindset.”

“So I shouldn’t take what she said to heart?”

“Well, there’s also the argument that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Does the same go for you?” He snickers.

I laugh, “sometimes.”

“So you don’t like the gold in my eyes? I thought it was your favorite part?” He smirks, turning to lay on his side and face me. My hand would’ve fallen off his hadn’t he flipped his over to catch it.

Ugh, he’s such a sneaky jerk! His cheeky smirk only grows with my silence. Warmth rushes to my cheeks as I bashfully hide my face.

“Yeah… about that…” I laugh nervously, “let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Should I forget that you also said I smell like sunshine and everything exquisite?” He adds to the torment.

I groan, tossing my head back. This must count as torture. “Preferably, yes,” I request shortly.

We share a laugh at my annoyed reaction. He’s impossible! Even he should be mopping he still manages to tease me!

A comfortable silence fills the air and I stare down at the pillow in my lap as I play with the lettering on it.

________________________________

Masterlist

[johnsamericano]

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥 •3•

I hope this ain't getting shitty. Thank you for reading, sexy people. Send me a message or an ask if you'd like to be added to the tag list.

warnings: hungover jaehyun, age gap, hospitals, nothing too extreme.

sugar rush m.list.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv @sunny-nyu @nanascupid @silent-potato @painted-hills

~

Yoonoh woke up on a strange bed, the mattress stiffer than the one he had back home. He refused to open his eyes, fearing that the daylight would worsen his headache.

Yoonoh woke up on a strange bed, the mattress stiffer than the one he had back home. He refused to open his eyes, fearing that the daylight would worsen his headache.

“Wake up, sunshine.” He groaned, all the memories from the past night hitting him like a truck. “Come on, I made breakfast.”

His eyelids finally fluttered open, frown softening at the sight of you in a messy bun and your cute pajamas.

“How come you look so fresh?” The dark circles under his eyes had deepened in the span of a few hours. Thank God he didn't have to work that day.

“I always look fresh.” You seemed to be more comfortable around him. Perhaps it was because you had to tuck him in last night. “Up.”

You tugged both of his limp hands, forcing him to sit up.

“What did you cook? It smells nice.” He scrunched up his nose like a little kid.

“Eggs, bacon, and hash browns.” Fast as lightning, he got up from bed. On his way to the kitchen, he noticed the blanket hanging from the edge of your sofa. Disappointment pinched his heart.

“Why didn't you sleep with me? You would've been more comfortable.”

You set two plates on the small table, pulling the pan out of the stove to serve them.

“You spread yourself all over the bed as soon as I laid you down.” You lied successfully. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you weren’t that comfortable yet.

You let the pan down on the kitchen counter, taking a seat in front of him.

“Do you still want to visit my father?” Sparkling orbs stared at him timidly, fearing his answer would be negative.

“I mean…” You hummed, trying not to give it as much importance. “I do want to go!” He quickly corrected himself, frantically shaking his hands. “It’s just that I don't want to meet your father like this.” He pointed at his bed hair, which had only become messier since he woke up.

“You’re acting like he's gonna see you.” There was a slight bitterness in your tone, along with a fake grin.

“Alright, let's do this instead...” Yoonoh sat up straight, clearing his throat as if he were about to give a speech. “We’ll have breakfast, you'll shower quickly, and then we’ll drive to my house so I can fix myself. How does that sound?”

“So I'm finally gonna see your mansion? How exciting.” You kicked his leg teasingly under the table, his cheeks inevitably dipping as he tried to suppress a smile. “I bet you have some peacocks in your backyard.”

“And there's also a dolphin in my pool.” He let out a hearty laugh, extending his arm over the table to grab your hand.

His house was most definitely not what you expected.

It was about the size of the one you grew up in, the decoration inside minimalistic. There were no expensive paintings framed with pure gold, only pictures of him and his family. There was a small backyard you could access through the French door in the kitchen. Half of it was occupied by a greenhouse.

“I had to donate the peacocks to the zoo.” He whispered as you looked through the glass door, squeezing your shoulders with his slim fingers.

“What a shame.” Hesitantly, he wrapped both of his limbs around your torso, letting his chin rest stop of your head. Your heartbeat was thumping loudly against your chest. Yoonoh surely felt it but decided not to comment on it.

“There’s a Tv in my room in case you want to watch something while I shower.” A hint of mischief adorned his honey-like voice. “Or you can come in and watch me instead.”

“Stop!” Your elbow connected with his ribs out of pure panic, making him bend in pain with his hands covering the injured spot.

“It was a joke...” He whispered, teeth gritting together.

I made him mad, you thought. Should you escape or face the consequences of his anger? All thoughts erased from your mind as he grabbed your calves, lifting you over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” You hit his back with closed fists, unable to see the expression on his face. “Yoonoh!”

He went up the stairs, proceeding to enter his room and throw you on his bed. Thousands of dirty scenarios crossed your mind before he threw himself on top of you, crushing your bones under his muscular body.

“My...ribs...”

“Oh, sorry, what is that?” To make matters worse, his fingers tickled your sides, provoking a fit of desperate giggles to escape your mouth. “I’m not hearing an apology.”

“Sorry! Sorry!” His hands finally stopped, giving you time to breathe. Nonetheless, he remained laid on your chest, using his forearms to lift his weight. “Aren’t you gonna shower?”

“I like you.”

The confession was so sudden, so raw it took you some time to finally react. But you had no words to give him an answer, instead, you combed your fingers through his long hair, massaging his scalp while waiting for him to speak up again.

“I never thought I'd be feeling more than friendly affection for you. Our agreement doesn't include love, after all. But I've started feeling like a teenager all over again. I can't help but get excited whenever you call me. Do you know how sweet your voice sounds through the phone?” He sighed, discouraged at your lack of response. “I guess you're not there yet.”

Instead of verbally answering, you planted a sweet kiss on his head, right where small, grey hairs had started growing.

“I’m not good with words.”

“That’s alright.” He snuck his hands under your back, holding you tightly as a sudden need to nurture you took over him. The mature image he had of you faded in less than a second, leaving behind a young, troubled woman. “I’ll shower quickly so we can go see your pops. I bet we’ll get along just fine, maybe even go golfing when he wakes up.”

“I forgot you're almost the same age. Creepy.” He smiled, though uneasiness started steering in his guts.

“Does that bother you?” He asked without giving it a second thought.

“I don't know yet.”

(...)

The man with high cheekbones and bruised skin laid limp on the hospital bed. Yoonoh had been working on his case for about a month, yet, it only started feeling real the moment he entered the room.

“This is my dad.” All emotions had escaped your eyes as if your soul wasn't there anymore. Only an empty shell.

“You look so much like him.” he was afraid touching you wouldn't be the right thing to do, so instead, he said: “He seems like a suitable golf buddy.”

Tension finally loosened its grip around his body as you snorted, pigment returning to your cheeks. Finally, he wrapped his hand around yours.

“He will wake up, y/n.”

“He’s taking his sweet time.” You glanced back at the laying figure, skinnier with every day he spent asleep. “I want someone to pay for taking away the last person that loved me.”

The last person that loved you. Would Yoonoh be able to fill that spot? Not yet, probably. He couldn't modify the depth of his feelings, but he could surely give you the vengeance you longed.

“Do you trust me?” With your eyes still glued to your father, you nodded. “Then I can assure you we’ll win the case.”

“I know we will.”

He sat silently with you, holding your hand without saying a word. The smell of alcohol and the beeping noise of machines made him nauseous. He hated hospitals. You noticed the change in his demeanor, his hand becoming cold while holding yours with strength.

“Do you wanna go?”

“No!” He smiled through the pain, scooting his chair closer to lay your hand on his lap.

He wouldn't agree to get his ass off the plastic chair. You had to tell him you were hungry for him to finally stand up, still clutching your hand like your father did when you were still a kid. His parental behavior caused several emotions to stir inside your guts, so mixed up you couldn't quite put a finger on any of them.

“What do you want to eat?” The tension finally left his body once out of the building.

“Soup.” You smiled while swiping your thumb on top of his knuckles. “I know a place, but to be honest, it isn't good. So we can go to the store and get the ingredients to- but you can't cook.”

“I’m up for a cooking lesson if you are.” He wanted to see your pretty smile again. Maybe making a fool of himself would help. “Let’s hit the road.”

“Wow, so cool.”

“I know.”

(...)

“Can you grab that can of chicken broth?” You pointed at the high shelf, letting go of Yoonoh’s hand to allow him to move freely

“I have a better idea.” He dragged you by the arm so you were standing in front of him, trapped between his body and the shelf. “I’ll lift you so you can reach it.” Matching his words, his hands grasped your waist, ready to carry you.

“Stop!” You slapped his hands repeatedly between giggles. Ignoring your complaints, he started lifting you. “Yoonoh!”

“Yoonoh?” A feminine voice had him placing you back on your feet in less than a second.

“Seryeong, I didn't expect to see you here.” His hands remained seated on the curve of your waist.

“Neither did I. I was surprised when Sungchan told me you'd left early yesterday.” She seemed a bit older than you but still younger than the man behind you.

“I had some matters to take care of.” She eyed you from head to toes with a smug grin plastered on her lips. Just by the look of her clothes, you could tell she was as wealthy as Yoonoh. You feared the scene would turn into a tv worthy drama.

“I’ll go get the chicken breast.” You tried escaping his grip, only to be pulled closer to his warmth.

“No need to. It's already inside the cart.”

Why am I so dumb?

“Does your father know about your little girlfriend?” She asked without hesitation.

“I guess.”

“And why didn't he tell me anything?” She cocked an eyebrow, his hands finally loosening around your body and allowing you to move from your position.

“Look, this is something you should talk about with him. Now, if you excuse us...” With a hand on your shoulder, he began pushing the cart to the next aisle, the chicken broth long forgotten.

“Is this some kind of arranged marriage situation?”

“Something like that.” His hands were tense while holding the cart, knuckles turning white from the strength used. “Before you start asking, I'm not really in the mood and I don't want to direct my bad mood toward you. Let's talk about something else, alright?”

Who was that woman that had the power to turn him into a literal raging ball of fire with just a few words?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙10

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, angry Andy, hormones

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Another update? Who is this bitch actually trying?

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The bus chugged down the city streets as you sat closer to the back. You stared out the window and watched the grey sky of Nelson hanging overhead, a cloudy backdrop to the smoking city. 

You sighed every now and then, trying to forget the beeping and when it stopped. You still felt Andy’s hand on your back and the suffocating silence of the drive home. The burden of the dead woman on your shoulders.

It was as if it had been years since you saw the slightly crooked pole that held the bright sign. The bus stop was as desolate as ever, the dirty bench marked with spray paint and the shelter glass cracked. You set off around the corner past the house. Each was familiar but not comforting.

Your hips hurt from the stiff ride and you rubbed your stomach. You wore one of Andy’s hoodies under your open jacket, the zipper of the latter no longer meeting. You stopped in front of your parents’ house. You hadn’t asked permission; not from your mother, your father, or Andy. There was no courtesy phone call so you hesitated, afraid you might be sent away.

It was noon. Your father would be in the garage. He always had some project going. That was his work. He was cheaper than any other mechanic in the city, he just did it all from home. He could recycle parts from the junkyard and charge half price. They usually did better than the newer parts sent away for down at the Jiffy.

You walked up the driveway, the garage door was only halfway open, the bite of the late autumn, rather the early winter, mingled with the warmth flowing under the metal. You tapped on it with your knuckles, “dad?” you called.

You stepped back as his oily hands gripped the bottom and he hauled it up entirely. He tilted his head at you but couldn’t hide his smile. He looked at your stomach and you dropped your hand. He drew you to him before you could react. He hugged you tight and rocked you.

“Your mother’s gonna be mad you didn’t call before you came,” he let go of you and looked you over again.

“Mad that I’m even here,” you remarked.

“No, she might act like it but…” he waved you into the garage and rolled over the little stool he sat on when he was working. He helped you sit and put his wrench on the plywood table against the wall, “she missed you. We both did.” he wiped his hands on his jeans, “you could have called us. You know how she is. She feels before she thinks.”

“She kicked me out,” you felt precarious on the little rolling stool, “you let her.”

“So why’d you come back?” he asked.

You hung your head and hugged your stomach, “well, I’m having your granddaughter. I didn’t want you to find out from anyone but me.”

“It’s a girl?” he grinned.

“Sorry, wish I could give you a boy to get all filthy in this place,” you shrugged.

“You never minded getting your hands dirty,” he neared and grasped your shoulder.

“Yeah, guess it doesn’t matter too much, she’ll be as curious as any kid,” you said.

You were quiet as you looked around. Your dad’s rolling chest of tools was dented and rusted, the same one he’d had your whole life. The place hadn’t changed, only the car sitting in it.

“That’s not the only reason you’re here,” he said. Your father was a simple man but he wasn’t dumb.

You frowned and felt a prick in your eyes. The hormones, you told yourself, they were getting to you.

“I need you guys,” you said quietly, “is that so bad?”

“I missed you, you’re mom did too, she’s just stubborn. Think that’s where you get it,” he turned his hand over and held it out to you, “but she won’t turn you away.”

“You sure?”

“I won’t let her. Not this time,” he bent and took your hand, “now come on.”

You let him help you to your feet and he led you through the side door into the house. You heard your mother’s old Patsy Cline CD droning from the box speakers on the shelf as she muttered to herself. 

Your dad kicked the dirty off his boots and you slipped your own off. You followed him and peeked over his shoulder as he went to the living room. Your mother was wiping down the framed picture from your high school graduation.

“I got a surprise for you,” he announced as he stepped aside and beckoned you in alongside him, “and she’s got a surprise for you.”

Your mother turned and froze. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyes pierced you. She didn’t say anything as he stared at you then tossed the dusting cloth onto the table beside the lamp. She looked down at your feet.

“You remembered to take your shoes off,” she said.

Your lips parted and your chest gripped. She was still mad.

“You remembered us,” she swept over to you so quickly, you flinched. She hugged you and her middle met yours. She let go and looked down at your stomach. Her eyes were sad but not angry, “I’m…” she lifted her head and met your gaze, “I’m not good at saying it but I’m sorry.”

You watched her for a minute. She was still her mother as nasty as she’d been. You could see her regret and it coupled with your own. It didn’t fix everything but for her, it was a lot.

“I’m sorry too,” you breathed, “it was… me being stupid started all of this. I just didn’t know what to do.”

“You gotta tell her,” your dad intoned.

You glanced at him then back to your mom. You gulped, “we found out yesterday, it’s a girl.”

“We? And where is… he?” your mother bristled.

“Working,” you said.

“We went to the diner, they said you quit. The café too,” your mom batted away lashes, “please, sit.” She touched your stomach, “you’re so big.”

“Five months, I think,” you said as you let her take you to the old floral sofa, “and the doctor recommended I take it easy so I had to… leave.”

“Oh? Is something wrong with the baby?” she picked up her cloth again and resumed her dusting. Your father quietly excused himself.

“No, just me,” you leaned against the arm, “but they said my blood pressure is getting better, just have to check it now and again.”

“And that man? The least I can say is at least he’s taking responsibility, even if he is married,” your mom hung the picture back on the nail.

“It was a mistake,” you said, “but you know, I think it’s taught me a lot. Not that it was worth it.”

“I don’t mean to rag on you, but… it’s just not how it should be,” she went to the television stand and focused on the edges.

“You think I don’t know that. Mom, I didn’t come here to argue my morality. I came here…” you paused as you felt your phone buzz. You slid it from your jacket pocket and checked the ID; Andy. You ignored it and dropped it back inside, “I just wanted to see if you had any interest in your granddaughter.”

She spun back and her face wrinkled with sadness. She twisted the cloth and retreated to the rocking chair and sat. She chewed her lip and looked at the floor. When she looked at you again, her brows crinkled.

“I’m trying,” she said, “but what you did, I don’t know if I can’t get over that. That man, everyone knows him, and when it comes out, with his wife still in a coma, you don’t think about what that does to us.”

“Well,” your throat constricted and you held back the hot tears bubbling behind your eyes, “she’s not anymore.”

“What?”

“She… she passed last night,” you sniffed, “and I’ll admit that I came here as much for me as you. I just needed… needed to get away. Just for a little.”

Your phone went off again and you grunted as you pulled it out and swiped away the second call from Andy. You kept the phone in your hand and rested it against your thigh.

“I just need time,” your mom leaned back heavily.

“Well, it’s quickly running out,” you replied, “she’s gonna be here soon enough.”

“I know,” she said grimly, “I know.”

There was another silence and your phone twitched. You turned it over and checked the message on the screen; ‘why don’t you invite your parents for dinner if you’re not gonna answer me?’ You let the phone slip between your legs and slowly raised your eyes. How did he know?

“I can go, if it’s too much,” you said, “I didn’t expect to get past the front door, honestly.”

“It’s not-- you’re still my daughter,” she uttered, “and even if it’s not the best situation, you got my granddaughter too.”

Your phone began to shake between your legs and you huffed, “sorry,” you stood with effort as you snatched the phone up, “just a second.”

You went into the dining room and answered. You hissed into the phone, “what do you want, Andy?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going there?” he asked sharply.

“How do you even know? You following me?” you kept your voice low.

“I know, that’s all,” he retorted, “it is… surprising.”

“They’re my parents,” you scowled at the tabletop as you leaned on a chair.

“Mine, too, right? Considering--”

“Andy,” you warned, “come on. Let’s cut this out--”

“Invite them for dinner. You’re right. Our kid will need her grandparents,” he interrupted, “I’ll get off early and help.”

“I don’t think--”

“Invite them,” he demanded, “and don’t take the bus back. I’ll send you the money for a cab.”

“Jesus, I can take care of myself--”

“No, you can’t, which is why you’re sleeping under my roof. And this isn’t about you, it’s about the baby,” he exhaled and you heard a squeak of metal, likely a chair, “Now I want you home by two. I’ll be there shortly after.”

He hung up before you could argue. You closed your eyes and forced down the angry bile in your chest. You shuttered and tucked the phone back in your jacket. How did he know you were there?

🌙

Your parents agreed to dinner. Your mother wasn’t subtle that she was curious to see Andy’s house. Her judgement was always her driving motivation and you were certain she could find something to hate, even in the suburban utopia. 

You took the bus out of defiance and brewed with anger as you got off just outside the cul-de-sac. You walked the single block to Andy’s and paced like an angry lioness inside.

He arrived at three, just after. Your anxiety boiled with anger and you stopped to face him as he entered. You watched him put down his briefcase and hang his long black coat. Your nostrils flared as you braced yourself for the onslaught ready to spill forth.

“So, you weren’t following me?” you challenged.

“I was working,” he said quietly, “to pay for all of this…” he pointed to the ceiling, “and that,” he pointed to your bump.

“No, Andy, you don’t get to do that every time,” you snarled, “how did you know?”

He didn’t answer and brushed by you. You followed him into the kitchen as he went to the coffee machine and pressed the buttons bluntly. You watched him from a foot away, your hand on the cold marble.

“You can’t just ignore me. How did you know I was there?”

“Because…” he grabbed a mug and filled it with water. He poured it into the machine and snapped the lid shut, “because you have my baby and I have a right to make sure you don’t take it from me.”

“That’s not an answer,” you sneered, “Andy, I have done everything you’ve wanted. I have stayed here, I have quit my jobs, I have kept this baby for you, and you… you’re what? Tracking me like a dog?” You reached into your back pocket and slammed your phone on the counter. You slid it over to him, “when did you do it?”

His jaw ticked as he put a pod into the machine and hit start. He tapped his fingers on the counter and let out a long breath through his nose. He turned to you and crossed his arms.

“After you stayed out that night. I couldn’t worry like that again. I had to know,” he said staunchly, “because I’ve had a wife go out and not come back. A child--”

“I’m not your wife and I won’t ever be. This child is all we have in common,” you rebuffed, “even after last night. What you did, that doesn’t change things.”

You nearly tripped as he marched towards you. He had you against the far wall, his hand planted on either side of your head as his anger rippled across his forehead and set his jaw square. You pressed yourself against the pure white wall and tried not to wither.

“I did that for you,” he breathed, “I’ve done everything for you. Don’t act like you’re the only one doing shit.”

“Andy, get away--”

“No,” he punched the wall and you gasped, “my wife is gone. Jacob is gone! This is all I have; you, my daughter…that’s everything and I will be damned if I’m going to let you take any of it away from me.”

“You’re scaring me,” you wisped, “Andy, please--”

“No, you shut up and you listen. This is the last time we have this conversation. Your parents are coming and you’re going to be good. You’re going to wear something nice, you’re going to cook something good, and you’re going to smile. You don’t let them see you crack, not once.”

“You can’t--”

“Enough!” he hit the wall again and you heard it crumple under the force, “if you don’t, they won’t be around. Ever. Do you understand me?” you gaped up at him and trembled, you shook your head in disbelief. He leaned in and spoke softly to you, “Understand that I will make sure you and no one else ever sees them again.”

“You… wouldn’t…”

“I could. I will. You’re fucking bitch of a mom deserves it,” he hissed, “so, honey,” he growled the second word, “what’s it gonna be?”

Your lip quivered and you searched his face. The rage had his blue eyes alight and his breath rasped out like animalistic snarls. You thought of Laurie, of how blank he’d been when they stopped the machines. And that smile, after. What was that?

“I’ll… be good,” you murmured, “I will.”

His lips twitched and he shoved himself away from you. He stomped over to the fridge and took out the light cream. He added it to his mug of fresh coffee and stirred. You stood straight shakily and looked up at the hole beside your head.

“Well,” he said, “better figure out what you’re making for dinner. Our guests won’t be long.”

[ziggysims]

I’m sorry you don’t need to read this post but I needed to vent about my life 🥴

I know I never post on here and nobody knows who I am but I feel like I just need to vent and get my thoughts out in the open and I don’t have anyone in my life to talk to about this. So here goes...

I’m in my final year of my degree and it’s getting to the point that after this year, I’m going to have to enter the work force in a field I’m not interest in anymore.

I found University was my crutch, as I could rely on having three years more years of schooling after high school before I became a ‘real adult’. I thought that by the time I graduated I would have evolved and would have been ready. However, I don’t think anyone was expecting a Pandemic to happen in 2020, which has seen my past two years of university basically be online and created this bubble were I did nothing with my life.

Which is we’re my issues lie. I’m not interested in my degree or the opportunity’s it will lead too, I’m at the stage were I am applying for work experience and nothing I see interests or motivate me. I feel like I’m just making things up whenever anyone asks or questions me about after I graduate. It also doesn’t help that anyone I talk to in my degree has somewhat of a plan on what they want to do after graduation where as i have no plan or direction in life.

I have five major issue at the moment

1. I’m pretty sure I’ve f*cked my courses up and have not been doing the correct subjects and I probably won’t graduate when I wanted too. So there’s that 🙃

2. I’m not interest in my degree anymore or the careers and opportunities it offers. I also feel like I’m the only one without a plan and given that I have not made any friends in uni except this year. I’m trying really hard to continue these relationships however I’m always having to put a mask on and be someone I’m not which includes not telling people certain things about myself. This is where the third problem comes from...

3. I have no work or life experience. I have been privileged to have the parents I do and I love them very much and they have continued to support me no questions asked but I feel like a failure 😞 I’m almost 22 years old and I have never had a proper job as I have been a family caregiver for my mum since 2017 BUT that’s is just an excuse I have been telling both myself and everybody else. I could of had a job if I had tried but I was unmotivated and now I feel likes it’s too late to get a part time job anywhere and no one will hire me. Another thing that has hindered me is the fact I don’t have a drivers license, I have a lot of anxiety around driving so I’m still incredibly dependent on my parents. However, I’m current working on that and doing driving lessons but I still have a long way to go and I feel extreme anxiety when thinking or applying to job as I keep getting rejected or I never hear back from the job application.

4. Moreover, I know this is not a common wish and people have been trying to break out of this lifestyle but honestly I just want to work a boring 9 -5 office job doing nothing but writing emails, attending meeting etc and nothing else. I feel like I’m not smart enough for anything and that I have faked it through my ability to do assignments but it always entails a lot of editing and rereading. Also I feel really dumb all the time as my spelling and math is atrocious and I feel so insure in myself and my abilities. The reason I want a basic 9 - 5 is just having the life style of waking up early in the morning, going to work, coming home, having dinner and relaxing the rest of the night doing hobbies such as reading, sims and watching tv shows and having weekends off consistently to spend time doing things that interest me and having holidays maybe once a year. That’s the structure I want in life and I feel like I can never admit to that because I would of wasted me degree on nothing.

5. Lastly, this issue has nothing to do with my degree or lack of work experience but about my own confidence or lack there for and has been playing on my mid for years now. In terms of my body… I HATE it. I’m fat there is no other word for it, I weigh around 116kg and even if I try and tell myself I look pretty or not that big in the mirror as soon as I see myself in a reflection in public or photos of my self I’m horrified with how big and disgusting I really am. Ever time I leave the house I feel nervous and anxious I I constantly have to make efforts to look better and dress better then people would just to do basic things like grocery shopping. I feel judged whenever I’m in public and find that I can never order to much food or buy to much food if I’m buy myself. I also cannot shop at any normal clothing stores and feel constantly uncomfortable and unsure whenever I have to buy clothes in person. I did lose 15 kilos last year but I lost the motivation and have put nearly all of it back on. I struggle so much with weight loss as to lose any weight with my metabolism, I have to eat very little and work out constantly to see any results. However, I can’t work out in a gym as I’m still to self conscious and as i don’t live by myself I can’t control what food is in the cupboard. I know these reasons just sound like excuses, which they probably are… but food to me is such a big part of my life. I eat when I’m bored and given that I don’t have much of a social or work life I’m constantly at home except for University so I’m always snaking. I also struggle with motivation and being consistent with working out which hinders may ability to lose weight. Now, why is this such an issue? because being over weight has stopped me from doing everything and not have confidence in my self has lead me to have many regrets in life. As soon my old friends and I became 15- 16 my life started to change drastically. I wasn’t invited to parties other than birthdays and didn’t have those fun teenage years except a few occasion which I always longed for. Furthermore, I’ve never kissed or had sex with a guy and have never really talked either online or in person much at all to any guys either, I also have never had a friendship with any males my age what so ever. I feel so left out of everything people my age are doing and I never go on social media anymore, as every time I open either Instagram, Facebook or Snapchat I just feel immensely sad and insecure. Every time I open social media all I see are people from my high school doing something with their life whether that be graduating university, travelling, hanging out with friends, being in long term relationships etc I’m struck in the same place doing the same things I was going when I was 16 years old and I feel like I haven’t experienced-life and I have let go of so many opportunities or stopped myself from putting myself out there and doing things I want to do because of my weight and insecurities. Because I have isolated myself from the world even before the pandemic I’ve lost a part of myself and my personality and I have become boring and have nothing interesting about me that would make anyone stay.

I’m just a fat, ugly, boring human being who is full of regret and has wasted their life being fat, not doing anything, doing a degree I’m not interested in anymore, having no social life and not have any life experience in general.

I’m just fucked and at a point in my life we’re I don’t know what I’m going to do…

So thats everything I know nobody is really going to care but I feel like I needed to get this off my chest as it had been playing in the back of my mind the past few months and years to be honest and going into my final year has just pushed me passed the breaking point and added more stress onto the fact that I’m unhappy with the way my life has turned out 😞

So thats me....

[illyaana]

Collab: Chaos's Bearsday Collab by @chaos-night

Thanks for having this Collab hun! I hope you had/have an amazing birthday <3

Tags: Aged Up! Birthday boy! Izuku Midoriya x Binaural, SFW, Fluff

Synopsis: You thought this was going to be a normal birthday with Deku - the only thing that was different is you were going to make Katsudon, pork cutlet bowls, for Deku. What you weren't prepared for was a flirty Izuku Midoriya.

Word Count: 1689

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You groaned at the sound of your blaring alarm, forcing you awake. You raised your head to meet Izuku’s chin. His hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his body even more. You pressed against the bed, pushing yourself upwards to face the sleeping face of your beloved.

You adored the sight of the defenceless hero.

His dishevelled green hair mimicked a bush in the woods - wild yet so adorable. His lips were slightly parted, allowing soft snores to escape the powerful quirk user. His small freckles glowed under the soft sunlight entering your shared room from the window, leaving you in awe. His long lashes framed his closed eyelids.

Thankfully, your alarm turned itself off - he wasn’t letting you move anymore, not with the vice grip he had around you tightening unknowingly.

You couldn’t resist the urge to run the pad of your thumb against his soft lips - it looked so soft and supple. The rest of your fingers found their place on Izuku’s cheek, enjoying the warmth only he could radiate. You smiled, looking at the sleeping Izuku subconsciously pressing his cheeks against your fingers.

This is what you believed a life spent with him would look like - and you pray so that it stays like this.

“Hey,” you say as you kiss Midoriya’s forehead, “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Your alarm began to ring again, causing the hero beside you to groan loudly.

“Turn that thing off,” he said, placing his head on your shoulder, “We don’t need to wake up early today.”

This man… how was he the top hero?

You ruffled his hair, chuckling.

“Weren’t you the one who told me to wake you up early today?” you ask, recalling your conversation with him yesterday.

“I just wanted to spend the whole day with you, but I think we can do it from this bed, can’t we?” he said, pressing kisses on the nape of your neck.

“I think you forgot, Deku,” you say, cupping his cheeks, “You have a press conference with Bakugo and Todoroki today - you know, about your job as a hero?”

His eyelids shot open.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbled, making you laugh.

“It’s only,” you looked at the wall clock, “9 am right now. You have about 1 hour to get ready and head to the studio. That trip would take about 20 minutes.”

You smiled when you saw him visibly relax.

“Sadly,” you say, “You aren’t getting breakfast from me since I couldn’t even move one inch from the bed,” you gesture to his arms on your waist.

You kissed his forehead again, trying to wipe off the guilty smile he had on his face.

“Happy birthday, Midoriya Izuku. Now, go get ready.”

He kissed the apples of your cheeks before pressing his forehead against yours.

“Thanks, love.”

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The minute you heard the door close, you got out your phone and called your mother-in-law.

“Hi!” she answered cheerfully, “You ready to do this?”

You turned the voice call into a video call, then propped your phone behind the salt shaker.

“Hopefully…” you trail off as you put on your apron, “You don’t think I’ll burn anything or cause a fire, right?”

“If you’re anything like Izuku in terms of cooking, we’ll be fine.”

You weren’t.

Pancakes, waffles - you could handle that.

But meat? It definitely was not your forte.

Izuku’s the one who handled all the savoury dishes while you were the resident taste tester.

“Don’t worry - the very person who introduced him to the savoury dish is right here, showing you each step in detail. You won’t mess up that much,” you said to yourself as you brought out the ingredients.

You laid them out in front of her, allowing her to examine them thoroughly.

“First things first,” she said, moving to her couch, “You’re wearing your apron wrongly.”

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You stared at the pan filled with onions, eggs and fried pork, feeling defeated.

You were supposed to move all of that into a small bowl of rice.

You were supposed to move a bunch of slippery onions doused in sauce, a steamed omelette that looked like it was going to break into two and a pork cutlet that you slaved over - all of that, into a small bowl of rice.

“Trust me, it’s pretty easy,” Inko said, trying to calm you down, “It just looks intimidating.”

“Intimidating is one way to explain it,” you said, staring at your hard work.

“Just do it, don’t worry - you have multiple backup pork cutlets if you mess up.”

“I know, but-”

“Just do it.”

You immediately placed the toppings into the bowl of rice without any spillage.

...or so you thought.

The whole thing spilt over the sides of the pan, missing the bowl of rice entirely.

“Try again, dear,” she said smiling, “No harm in trying again.”

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After 5 tries, you managed to make two perfect bowls of fresh katsudon. The smell of the fried pork cutlets wafted through the air, making you smile at your hard work.

“It looks really good, dear,” she said, smiling, “He’ll love it.”

You smile at her cheerful gaze towards you.

“You sure you don’t want to come over? It’s just a fifteen-minute drive.”

“I appreciate you asking me,” she said, sighing, “But I think you two should spend the day together. I’m pretty sure you both haven’t spent much time together since your honeymoon.”

“You sure?” you ask once again.

“I’m very, very sure,” she says, chuckling, “Now go get ready.”

You placed your phone flat on the countertop and started to set the table. As soon as you finished, Izuku came into the house, a tired expression painted on his face.

“You okay?” You say as you walk towards him.

“How rude of them to make me work on my own birthday?” he chuckled softly.

He looked to the dining table and his eyes lit up.

“Did you made Katsudon?” he asked, the tired expression he once had leaving his face.

“Yeah, I did,” you say as you help him take off his jacket.

“However,” you place his hands on his chest, “You need to go bathe.”

“What’s with everyone bullying me today?” he huffed.

“Bullying or taking care of you?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” he trailed off.

“Just go bathe,” you say, chuckling as you push him towards your room.

“Oh no,” he said as you pushed him, “My feet can’t move.”

This grown kid.

“So I’m supposed to carry you bridal style now?” you joke.

“ I did it to you, didn’t I?” he whispers in your ear.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks the minute the sentence left his lips.

This man…

“Wow, my feet work now! I’ll go bathe,” he said as he kissed your cheek.

This man is too cute for his own good.

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“This…” he said, mouth stuffed with food, “This is really good!”

You smile, looking at the green-haired male scarfing down the food you made. You loved the little sparkle he had in his eyes whenever he truly enjoyed something - and to your luck, it was the food you prepared for him.

“You seriously made this by yourself?” He asked with his eyebrow raised.

“You don’t see your mom here, do you?”

“You sure you didn’t order in?” He teased again.

You kicked his leg under the table, causing him to wince in pain.

“Oh, how you wound me,” he said, faking tears.

“Serves you right for making fun of me,” you huff.

He got off of his chair and headed to the sink to wash his bowl.

“Well, to be fair,” you add, “I did video call your mom so she could teach me.”

“So I was right, then,” he said as he places his bowl in the sink and turning to face you.

“She didn’t make it, though!”

“You said you made it all by yourself, but you got my mother’s help. Hence, you lied to me,” he put his arms on the countertop.

“I didn’t lie to you,” you say, laughing, “I really made it by myself.”

Izuku was already standing in front of you, cupping your face in his hands.

“You kicked me,” he stared at you, “You kicked a tired hero.”

“Heroes don’t tease others as much as you do,” you retort.

“What is my purpose in your life but to tease you?”

“A lot of things actually,” you say, smiling at him.

“Oh? Like what?”

“First of all,” you put your hand on his chest, “Where did this flirty Izuku come from?”

“Maybe,” he put his thumb on your lower lip, “He came because I am using my birthday privileges to be a little more flirty than usual.”

You stare at his green orbs. They glimmered even under his own shadow. Its golden flecks shined just for you and you alone. The creases of his eyes curved upwards, showing you how happy he was just to be in your presence. The wild forest he calls his hair had rogue strands that tickled your cheeks. You loved how soft they were - especially after him just washing it roughly an hour ago.

Your hand on his chest began to outline the scars he cultivated through his years under All Might’s wing and his hero training back in UA. You smiled as you remembered how strong-willed he was as a boy to become a hero, and now he was - standing on the very top.

“You okay?” he asked, worried.

“I was just thinking of how much you’ve grown from back then,” you look up to his face, meeting his eyes that were staring straight at you.

“For someone who took so many notes back then, you’re really dumb,” you both chuckle.

“How are you still bullying me?” he sighed.

“Endure it, Deku,” you joke, imitating Bakugou.

You close your eyes as you pressed your forehead against his, enjoying the small moment you’re sharing with the male in front of you.

“Happy birthday, Izuku.”

“Thank you, love.”

You both shared a kiss, both bellies and hearts full.