#trying to ignore the yelling downstairs and trying to convince myself that its not my fault but at the core of it all it really is isnt it Tumblr posts

[popping-greenbean]

there are so many things that i could do so well,,, if only i could like.actually do them

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

Fallout of the Century 🌑💔

Part 1. 🥜

Word-count: 4.5K

Warnings- This is very angsty, Mentions of cheating, falling apart, and overall depression. 

Masterlist

Summery: Your wold has practically fallen apart when you walk in on something you weren't supposed to see. Causing you and your soon to be husband Harry Holland to call of your engagement. Months pass and you are just trying to put the pieces back together. Will you ever be able to sort your life out?

My head came up from under the surface, breaking the water around me. I let out a gasp as I rubbed the water from my face. There was a banging at the bathroom door before it swung open with force. He swung the curtain open, exposing my naked body. He had seen me this way before, so the sight didn't even make him bat an eyelash. 

“Seriously peanut? I was out there for like three minutes calling you.” His tone was harsh and firm, this was not the first time this had happened. Ever since the break up I just wasn't the same anymore, and the only one who saw the bad was Harrison. 

“Sorry,” I muttered , slipping back below the surface of the water. Harrison’s hands reached in and grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up.

“We are not doing this again peanut,” he groaned as he pulled me to my feet, soaking himself in the process. 

“Harrison, I'm fine,” I tried to convince him, but he knew otherwise. 

“I know tonight will be hard, and I know you'll want to bail, and I know that you will hate it, but I'll be right here, and so will Tuwaine. We have to try and put this behind us,” He pulled the towel around my shoulders and helped me out of the tub. He walked me to my bedroom and stood in the doorway until I had a pair of leggings and a hoodie on. “You sure you want to wear that one?” he asked. I looked down, noticing I had grabbed Harry's pink hoodie, because I was in such a haze. I felt tears rush to my eyes as I pulled it off and grabbed one of my own. We walked down to the living room and sat on the armchairs, waiting. My hair was still wet, and Harrison’s shirt was damp from helping me out of the bath, but I was sure no one would notice. Or care. 

First to arrive was Tuwaine, he walked over giving me a hug and kissing my forehead before finding his usual spot on the couch. Next it was Sam, then Tom, and then finally. Harry. 

He didn't look good, not like himself, he looked sad and hollow, but i tried to ignore it. Six months ago there would have been one more person with us, but six months ago seemed like a lifetime away.

Harry walked past me, without even so much as a glance, which was no different than I had expected. 

Harrison pulled out the board game and arranged it on the table in front of us. I looked up and caught Harry's glance, he instantly looked away. I sighed and went to get up but was stopped by Harrison’s voice. 

“OK, this is going to go differently tonight. No name calling. No snide comments. No outbursts. None. and if anyone does, their buy-in is instantly up for grabs and you forfeit.” Everyone shook their heads at the new rules Harrison had put in place. It sucked to think Harry and I were the reason for it, but that's the way life works sometimes. 

Our monthly monopoly games had become nothing more than awkward, so when Harrison had brought it up last week at dinner I was instantly ready to find anything else to do, But he insisted I be there. 

So here I am, sitting across from the love of my life, broken and damaged and completely regretting agreeing to this. 

“You're on my property Y/N, pay up.” Harry said coldly to me. I grabbed the five dollars I owed him and handed it over. I felt bad for our friends, the tension between us was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. No one knew what had happened between us, but they all knew it had to have been bad. 

“Where has Olivia been?” Tuwaine asked, not knowing where the girl had disappeared to. Truth be told no one knew, because I had told her if she ever showed her face or talked to any of them again I would do a lot worse to her than she did to me. I took a deep breath trying to keep my cool. 

“I'm sorry Harrison, I just can't do this tonight,” I told him as I got up and stormed out of the living room. All I could think about was that night, the memories flashing through my mind. 

“Harry baby, I'm home,” I yelled as I walked into our small apartment. I had been out of town on a business trip, but somehow made it home earlier than i expected. I had set my keys on the table and noticed a key chain that I recognized, but was not my fiance’s. I remember the tightening in my stomach as I walked down the hall and saw discarded clothing all the way to our bedroom. And when I opened the door, I was shocked to see the man I was set to marry in less than four months and my best friend laying naked and asleep in my bed.

There was a knock on my door and it opened slowly. I looked up expecting Hazza but instead saw the man I once would do anything for. “Can I come in?” He asked quietly. I nodded my head and scooted over on the bed giving him a spot to sit. 

“They make you come up?” I asked him. 

“No, they actually told me not to.” He said. “You still haven't told them?” He asked me softly.

“I have no reason to ruin the way everyone sees you, Harry,” I told him coldly. He nodded and I could see him chewing the inside of his cheek, a bad habit he had when he was stressed. “Stop doing that, you're going to put a hole in your cheek,” I told him. He laughed at that although it was a dry laugh. 

“You know you're not the only one hurting Y/N,” He said boldly. I wasn't one to freak out, hell i was the calmest person i knew, but he had a way of just getting under my skin.

“No you're right Harry, I'm not. You must be devastated that you cheated on my with my best friend, you must be crushed that you wasted five years of your life just to throw it away over some dumb slut who was always out for your dick, You must be wrecked, not having to explain to all your family and friends that your wedding is canceled, and not having anything to tell them because your too loving of a person to ruin your ex’s reputation,” i took a deep breath trying to keep my cool, seemed to be a trend tonight. 

“Well, you didn't exactly make the five years easy Y/N. I'm sorry I slept with Olivia, yes. But I'm pretty sure our relationship ended way before that,” I looked at Harry dumbfounded, our relationship had been perfect, never once was there any problems, until the week leading up to the fall out. 

“Because I got a good job and was traveling more?” I demanded. He nodded his head and it took everything inside me not to punch him in the jaw. “Get out Harry,” I told him, annoyed with his presence in my room. “And take that stupid hoodie with you,”

He stood up standing at the edge of the bed and looked down at the pink hoodie, before looking back at me. I thought for a moment I saw the boy I had fallen In love with all those years ago shine through, but his face quickly contorted back to what he had become. "That one always looked better on you, keep it," he said as he walked out the door. 

I wanted to scream and shout. I wanted to cry. 

I wanted to feel anything.

But I just felt numb. 

I walked around the apartment grabbing all the discarded clothes and Olivia's keys before walking back to my bedroom and throwing them on them sleeping in MY bed. “Forgot to clean up after yourselves” I shouted slamming the door closed. I heard rummaging around and Olivia shrieked. 

“Oh my god what did we do?” 

Harry came rushing out of our bedroom and found me standing in the kitchen. “Baby, i don't know what happened,” He was panicking. Maybe they had gotten drunk, maybe it was a spur of the moment thing, but no excuse would make up for it. 

“I'm going to Harrison's, I'll be here to get my stuff in a few days,” Was all I told him that night. I walked out the door, my head held high and kept my composure until Harrison opened his door. I collapsed in his arms, every emotion flooding my body, I couldn't speak, or move. 

I rolled out of bed and looked at my alarm clock. 2am. I was sure the boys would probably still be down there playing the game. I needed to go and get a glass of water, so I walked downstairs and to the kitchen. Just as I thought they were all still huddled around the coffee table, empty beer bottles all around them. 

“Peanut!” Tom exclaimed as soon as his eyes saw me, “I thought you went to bed,” He was drunk, and I was sure he wasn't the only one.

“Need water,” I told him, giving him a weak smile. 

“She sleeps with like five bottles next to the bed,” Harry laughed. I rolled my eyes and walked into the kitchen. I could hear some of the conversation from the kitchen but nothing sparked my interest until I heard Harry say. “Well if i would not have slept with Olivia then nothing would be fucked up, so its my fault anyway,” all the noise subsided. 

I stepped out of the kitchen with my water in hand and looked at Harry who was sitting with his face in his hands, and everyone else was staring at him, with their jaws on the floor. 

“Is that why you guys broke up?” Tom asked. He wasn't asking me, he needed to hear from his brother. I had kept all of the bad to myself, not wanting anyone to look at Harry like a monster. Cause i knew he wasn't one. 

Harry didn't move his hands from his face, “I fucked it all up,” He groaned. I felt a twinge of guilt rush over me and I went to go comfort him despite how much he had hurt me, but Sam stood up as soon as he saw me take a step, shaking his head. I nodded and scurried off to my room, soon after I heard my door open, and Harrison walked in, flipping my light switch on. “You didn't tell me.” He said.

“Didn't want you to see him differently,” I told him quietly.

“With Olivia?” He asked as he walked over to my bed. 

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “I'm not innocent in this though, so please don't feel sorry for me,” I told him. 

“How are you not innocent?” He asked me. 

I thought about whether or not I wanted to tell Harrison, would he think as low of me as Harry now did? “Before me and Harry got together. One night we were all out at a pub, and me and Tom snuck off and, had sex. The next day he told us he blacked out and didn't remember anything, so I never brought that night up. Me and Harry started dating like a month after that, but I kept that secret. Until I threw it in his face to hurt him.” I sighed. I didn't want to look at Harrison, I was scared he would look at me like a monster. 

“That was before you together though, it's not the same nut,” He said, surprising me. 

“Maybe not, but it was still shitty of me,” I told him.  He shrugged his shoulders and then we started to hear yelling downstairs. Harrison got up and left to go see what was going on.

About an hour passed and the yelling had stopped and so had any noise. I assumed everyone had gone to bed or left. My door opened quietly and then shut. There was a shuffling as someone climbed into bed next to me. I rolled over and before my eyes even made out who it was, the smell hit me. So familiar yet so distant. 

“Harry,” I whispered, looking at the ginger boy whose eyes were puffy and nose was red, surly from crying.

“I know,” He whispered. “I just, can I please, just tonight?” he asked. I wanted to be strong and tell him to get out of my room. I wanted to push him off my bed. I wanted to hate him. Truth be told, I missed him. Sleeping in his arms, his curly hair tickling my face as he snuggles into my neck, the sweet kisses he would litter my body with. 

“Just tonight,” I told him firmly. A smile spread across his lips and he pulled my body into his, holding me close, instantly falling back into a routine we both knew so well. 

“Hey miss,” A voice called from behind me. I turned to see Harry running after me. 

“Harry?” I asked recognizing him from a few nights we had bumped into each other at clubs and parties. 

“Oh you remembered?” He asked surprised. 

“I mean a face like that is pretty hard to forget,” I chuckled. 

“I was wondering if I could take you out? On a date?” He was nervous to ask me. 

“Yeah, id- Id like that a lot,” I told him, a smile spread across his face as we exchanged numbers.

I didn't know then how much I would love him. Also how much I would hate him. 

I opened my eyes and looked down to see the familiar arms still around me holding me tight. He was drunk last night so i hadn't been mad about him crashing in my bed, but i wasn't sure i wanted to lay here cuddling him. “Harry,” I said as I wriggled my body trying to get out of his firm grip. 

“Five more minutes,” He groaned. 

“Harry,” I said a bit more forcefully, making his arms loosen their grip so I could get up. “I have to get ready for work, and you should probably go,” I was practically whispering. 

“Peanut,” He started, but then shook his head. “You're right, I should go,” he pushed himself up and then stood up from the bed. He looked at me for a minute standing at the end of my bed with my arms crossed, I was sure I looked pathetic. He stepped forward, coming dangerously close to me. He reached out letting his fingers brush across my cheek. I felt the tears rush to my eyes, but held them back. “Will we ever be able to fix this?” He asked quietly. I bit my bottom lip, hard, trying to figure out how to respond. 

“Is there anything worth fixing anymore?” I asked him. Looking up and seeing the hurt in his eyes. 

“I think a life with you is worth fixing,” He muttered. “I'm sorry,” He said before he walked out of my room. 

 I threw myself onto my bed and groaned. My life honestly sucked. I got out of bed and got ready for work. I walked down to the kitchen to see Harrison drinking a cup of tea. “Hazza,” I smiled. 

“I don't like it,” he said softly. I turned to him as I poured my coffee. 

“Don't like what?” I asked. 

“Him trying to weasel his way in. you deserve more than him, and he knows it,” i was caught off guard by his sudden anger towards Harry. 

“Harrison, I-” I was quickly cut off as he stepped forward, grabbing my face and pushing his lips into mine. I was going to push him away, but I found myself kissing him back. He broke his lips away from mine and left the kitchen without so much as a word. Leaving me standing there, dumbfounded and confused. 

I grabbed my keys and left the house. Maybe work would be less confusing than my morning. 

“Try it,” Harry pushed the sushi in my face. 

“Harry, it has raw fish,” I complained, pushing it back. 

“Babe just take a tiny bite, you might just like it,” He told me. I rolled my eyes and took the smallest bite, chewing for a minute and then spitting it in the napkin. 

“Awful, just like I thought,” I told him.he laughed as he pushed the sushi to the side and leaned forward, kissing me. 

“I love you,” He whispered for the first time. 

“You do?” I asked. He nodded his head and kissed me once more. “I love you, Harry,” I told him. 

Work flew by, faster than I would have hoped. My day had come to an end and I was sitting in my car, debating on what to do, when my phone started to ring. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, it's me,” id recognize that voice anywhere. 

“What do you want Olivia?” I asked. 

“Can we just talk? I miss you.” 

“I don't want to talk to you, and i don’t miss you,” i hung up the call without letting her respond. I just wanted to crawl into a whole and die. 

I drove home, and parked in my spot. I wasn't sure I wanted to go in. Harrison had kissed me this morning. Which in and of itself was weird, but add on top of that that I had spent the night with Harry. I threw my head back hitting the headrest, I let out a loud groan as I grabbed my phone and dialed a number I had dialed too many times to count. 

“Are you OK?” His voice was full of concern and worry, I hadn't called him in months. 

“I'm so lost, Harry,” I said quietly.

“Like you need me to come and find you? Or metaphorically?” He asked me, i could sense the smirk through the phone.

“Metaphorically, I guess.” I told him.

“I can come to you if you want,” He sounded hopeful and eager. 

“No.” I just wanted to talk to you,” I muttered. Why had I called him anyway? Did I enjoy torturing myself? “Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me?” 

“The sushi date? Of course I do nut,” He said quietly. 

“I was sure that that was forever. That day, I knew it was you, and it always would be. Looking back, we were so happy. So why did you do it?” I had never given him a chance to explain what had happened that night, every time he would try I would storm off or yell. I think deep down I didn't want to know the truth, but if I was going to figure out what I was doing I needed to know all the facts. 

I heard him sigh through the other side of the phone. “I missed you, probably too much. She had come over for some reason, and I had been drinking, I don't even remember it. I just remember waking up, to you throwing clothes and shoes at us, and then seeing your face. I… I didn't know it was possible to physically feel your heart shatter, but that night I did. I felt my whole world slip out from under me,” He sounded sincere.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Tom. That wasn't a fair secret to keep, I should have told you as soon as I knew he was your brother,” I said. 

“It was none of my business, It happened before we even knew each other,” he said. 

“I love you Harry. I do. But i don’t what to do,” I whispered. 

“I love you, I'll keep fighting for you, for us. This can't be how we end, ours was the epic one, the love story for the ages,” he said.

“And it was the fallout of the century,” I whispered as I hung up. 

I walked into the house, not sure what to expect. Harrison was standing in the kitchen cooking something and Tuwaine was on the couch watching TV. “Smells good,” I told Harrison as I walked over to beside him. 

“It's your favorite,” He said, giving me a big smile. 

“What's the occasion?” I asked. He looked at me with a goofy grin and his crystal blue eyes.

“Just thought you could use a little pick me up,” He leaned over kissing my forehead, which was not out of the ordinary. 

“I definitely do need it,” I said as I went to the couch, throwing myself down next to Tuwaine. 

“Work?” He asked me. 

“It was fast, so not bad” I smiled at him. 

“And are you OK? I mean last night was kind of a lot for all of us,” He muttered. 

“I will be, in time. I just need to figure out what I need and want,” he looked over his shoulder to Harrison who was distracted with his cooking. 

“I don't know if you know this or not, but he's in love with you, and I know Harry still is too. Things are probably going to get really complicated,” He warned me.

“I don't even know what to do. Harry crushed me, like soul shattering pain, but I still love him. And Hazza, i mean i love him so much, but I've never considered him as anything other than a friend,” i told Tuwaine. 

“Well, you never had to consider Hazza as anything else, cause you had Harry, and now you don't. So you can make the choice for yourself. Maybe Harrison is who you were meant to be with, and Harry was just keeping you close until Harrison was ready,” he whispered, shrugging his shoulders. I laughed at that.

“Damn,” Harrison said from the kitchen. We both looked back to see him staring at us. 

“What?” I asked him.

“I missed the sound of your laugh,” He said, making my cheeks go red. Maybe Tuwaine was right.

We ate dinner and talked and laughed about our days, before turning in for the night. Tuwaine’s room was on the opposite side of the house than mine and Harrison’s, so Harrison walked me to my bedroom door. 

“I'm sorry about this morning, that may have been out of line,” he ran his hand through his wavy blonde hair. 

“You don't need to apologize to me,” I told him, grabbing his hand. “I just don't know if I'm ready to move on, or not,” I whispered. 

“Well, when you decide you are, you know where i'll be,” He leaned in, pushing his lips softly against mine before walking across the hall to his room. As if my life wasn't already confusing.

“Harry!” I groaned as we hiked up the tall hill. 

“Just a bit farther, baby, I promise the view will be worth it,” He told me. We reached the top of the hill just as the sun was setting over the horizon. It was a breathtaking view. I turned to Harry, or where he should have been, but he wasn't there. I turned around to see him down on one knee in front of me holding a little white box. 

“I know this is cheesy, but I'm a little cheesy. I've known for so long that you were my forever, my happily ever after. I can't imagine my life without you in it, and I don't want to. Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” He flipped the box open revealing a white band ring with a black and blue stone, something I had always said I wanted.

“Oh my god Harry, yes i'll marry you. A million times yes!” I exclaimed , pulling him to his feet and jumping into his arms. 

How did we go from that to now?

I was sitting on my bed, going through pictures when my phone vibrated. I looked down and it was a text from Harry. 

‘You think I could swing by for a minute?’ 

I knew I should tell him no, but I was curious as to what he wanted at this hour. 

‘Sure’ I texted him back. I heard the front door open almost as soon as the text was delivered, and then my door opened and he stepped into my room, shutting the door behind him. 

“You came before texting?” I asked him. 

“I forgot to, until I pulled in,” He sighed. “What are you doing?” He asked me. 

“Going through all these pictures. I want to frame a few, just don't know which ones,” I told him. He walked over grabbing one of the photos that I had in a pile, it was from when he proposed, a stranger had taken it for us. The picture itself was blurry but it was still my favorite. 

“That one was always my favorite,” He said, setting it back down. I nodded in agreement.

“So what brings you over?” I asked quietly. 

“Um, Olivia called me.” He said. My eyes shot up, my brows were furrowed and I could feel the anger rising inside of me. “She said you won't talk to her, and she just wants to apologize or something,” he sighed. “I didn't answer her, that's just what she said on my voicemail,” 

“Well i’m not going to call her, i don’t need her stupid apology,” I said blankly. “It sucks knowing my best friend came over to my house and took advantage of my intoxicated fiance. like I could maybe forgive you, in time. But I want to kill her, with every fiber of my being, I want to hurt her.” I took a deep breath, and looked at the pictures in my hands. 

“Yeah,” was all he said. 

“Maybe we should try dating,” I told him quietly. 

“Each other?” He asked me. 

“No, I mean other people. We should probably put ourselves back out there, and who knows maybe we will hate it and come back together. But it's been six months, we have to start moving on,” I sighed. 

He stood there looking at me, his eyes full of hurt and confusion, and I felt bad, but I knew that this was something we both needed. “Yeah we probably should do the dating thing, i'm not sure where I'd even look, but yeah,” He said. I rolled my eyes and laughed. 

“There is that girl at the coffee shop, she used to eye fuck you,” i told him. 

“The barista? Shelby?” I nodded, recalling how irritated I used to get when her eyes were all over him. “Maybe I'll ask for her number, or something,” He laughed. “And you?” 

“Hmm?”

“Where will you look?” he asked. 

“For dating? Oh I don't know.” I said, which was a blatant lie. 

“Okay, well I should go,” he smiled before leaving my room and then the house.

 I moved the pictures that were scattered across my bed to my dresser, and laid in my bed. I regretted telling Harry we should date other people, I think seeing him with someone would crush me even worse. I knew it was for the best though, we needed to give ourselves this, the chance to move on, to be happy, without each other. We had spent so long together that I had forgotten how to do the dating thing. 

“I found my dress,” I teased as I climbed onto Harry's lap. “It accentuates all the best parts of my body,” I leaned in letting my lips brush his earlobe before whispering “Your favorite parts,” 

He grabbed my ass squeezing it hard. 

“Can't wait to see you in it baby, I'm sure I'll be blown away,” he smiled sweetly. 

I leaned in to let our lips devour each other, until we needed more. 

And he never saw the dress, and he probably never would.

Part 2 🥜

[mycatshuman]

Castle of Devils

Chapter 13: Remus is the Worst Wing Man

Last | Next | More

Tw: Remus being Remus, swearing

I have a more detailed note at the end, but I just wanted to apologize for how long in between the last update this was, I'm so sorry.

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When Virgil got home, he found Janus rolling through the air whole clutching his stomach as his laughter rang out loudly. Virgil was still reeling from his encounter with Patton and he found himself freezing in the doorway as he stared at the ghost floating in his living room. He blinked. "What?" 

Janus turned to face the vampire, his laugh subdued to giggles. "You never told me-" he cut off once again in a fit of laughter made Virgil even more confused. 

"What? What's so funny?" 

"You never told me that you sparkled!" 

Virgil took a moment to process the sentence before his face dropped into the most annoyed expression anyone could muster. 

Janus crackled joyfully. "They said vampires fucking sparkled in the sun and now I can't stop thinking about you sparkling!" Virgil huffed as he moved to the kitchen and dropped the box of blood bags on the counter. He ignored Janus' loud laughter as he pulled out the blood bags and placed them in an opaque mini container in the back of the fridge. Once he finished he broke up the cardboard box that had been used to hold his blood bags and dropped it behind the recycling bin. Then he stayed quiet for a few moments. 

The ghosts' laughter still rang loudly and Virgil frowned. "Are you done yet?" He yelled. This only resulted in a new explosion of laughter as Janus looked at Virgil and imagined him sparkling all over again. Virgil groaned and let his face drop onto the counter. A thunk could be heard as his head made contact with the harsh surface but Virgil was too annoyed to care. "I should have never let you use my laptop." 

"No! No!" Janus laughed as he floated into the room, face still twisted in amusement as he fought to control his giggles. "I'm done now." 

The vampire mumbled into the counter, not even bothering to lift his head. "I met one of Roman's friends today." 

Janus's amused expression quickly slipped off his face as he moved closer to Virgil. "What happened? Is everything okay?" 

Virgil sighed and dragged himself back up into a standing position. "Yeah, he said his name is Patton and he actually was the blood supplier." The vampire nibbled at his lip anxiously. "He's, uh, planning to open a blood bank for vampires." 

Janus blinked. "What?" 

"Yeah. He's human, got a husband and they're both friends with Roman. Apparently he told them what happened." 

Janus suddenly grew very angry. "Well what the fuck! Why did he run when you told him?"

Virgil stared pointedly at the spirit in front of him. "Probably because Patton might not have told him. Or maybe it's because he saw me kill a man." 

Instantly, Janus's anger gave way to guilt. "I-" he swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, I should have let you tell him." 

Virgil hummed. "Yeah, you shouldn't have done it but I don't think I would ever be able to work up the courage to tell him myself." The vampire yawned. "I forgive you. I'm going to bed now, see you tomorrow." 

Janus nodded faintly. He watched as Virgil climbed into the bed and crawled under the covers. Janus stayed there for a while after the vampire had fallen asleep until he heard a light knock on the door downstairs. The ghost frowned and sunk down through the floor and glided over to the door. He waited a few moments before he pushed his face through the door and yelped. Janus flung himself back through the door and placed a hand to his chest and took a deep breath to calm his nerves before he phased through the door with a scowl. "What are you doing here, Remus?"  

Remus had been standing creepily close to the door with a broad grin on his face and wide unblinking eyes when Janus looked out the door, scaring the crap out of the ghost. Now he was vibrating in place as he looked at Janus with a mischievous grin. "I have the best idea!" 

Janus raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You do, do you?" 

Remus nodded rapidly and grabbed Janus's form causing the other to gasp. Warmth spread across his being from Remus' hand. It was the first time in a long time that he had felt warmth. God, he craved it. 

Remus dragged Janus to his car and showed a poster board with hastily glued on pictures and messy words littering the surface. The human let go of Janus, missing the quiet whine the ghost let out at the loss of the warmth, and gestured to the display. "I call it operation date night! I'm going to convince Roman to invite Virgil over as a "apology dinner" so he can pretend to apologize and he'll make stuff with "super garlic" in it that will be sure to "kill" a vampire and then when he finds out that it's not killing Virgil, he'll be so mad that he shoves the table out of the way and engage in hot angry sex and then my brother will finally have been laid and I won't have to deal with his sexual frustration anymore!" 

Janus blinked. "I- what? Virgil isn't going to have sex with Roman so soon."

Remus frowned. "Damnit." He stayed silent for a few minutes and Janus found himself wanting to fix the disappointed look in the humans eyes. 

"But, that could actually work to get them to reconcile." 

Remus's eyes lit up. "Yes! And then I can bully them with sex jokes!" Janus bit his lip, both incredibly amused and slightly disturbed. Remus turned to Janus. "Thank you Janus the ghost with the best di-" 

"Remus!" Janus shrieked, flushing red, embarrassed. 

Remus cackled. "Anyway," he started once he settled down. "I'm gonna head home. I'll talk to Roman about it tomorrow. You just have to make sure Virgil accepts." Remus smacked his lips against the ghosts cheek before climbing into his car. "Once this is done, you better be ready for a storm of flirty from me!" And with that final sentence, Remus turned on the car and drove off into the night. 

Janus hovered over the ground for a moment before choosing to ignore that last bit. "I think it's a little unfair that he gets to convince Roman to have this thing while I'm stuck trying to convince an immovable rock to go to this dinner party." He let his head drop to his chest with a sigh before lifting his head up and turning back to the house. "I guess all I have to do now is to wait." 

---------

Roman was suspicious of his brother. Recently, he had been on his laptop laughing maniacally every hour as if he was plotting. Remus usually was plotting something but this one felt a little different. Normally, his brother would brag to him about his plans, but this one he was working on, he hadn't. Which meant it probably had something to do with him. 

It was a bit alarming. Remus's plots could range from mild inconvenience to complete and utter embarrassment. Neither of which was something Roman wanted to deal with at the moment. After all, he still had the vampire to worry about. 

Speaking of the vampire, as time went on and as often as Roman found himself left alone with his thoughts, he discovered his feelings concerning the vampire and the entire situation becoming more and more complex as time went on. In his mind, he knew vampires were dangerous and a threat to humans. But at the same time, his heart was crying for Virgil. For the creative little emo that had stolen his heart in under a month. 

And his heart knew, it knew that Virgil would never hurt him. Or anyone if he didn't have to. The Virgil he saw in that nightmare and the Virgil he had come to know were different people. Virgil had changed, that he knew. In his heart of course. Roman's heart truly knew that Virgil was a complex person and he knew that he was a good person. 

His mind, however, had other things to say. His mind knew of the capabilities of a vampire and its strength and its powers. His mind believed it knew all the facts there were to know about a vampire. In fact, Roman's mind was the reason he wasn't listening to his heart. It had suppressed his feelings so strongly that Roman was living in denial. 

Remus knew this, of course. It was one of the reasons why he was pushing so hard to get Virgil and Roman together. A reason that he told no one. He had a reputation to uphold after all. Thankfully, he would soon be taking care of it. At least that was his plan. 

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

"Say, Roman?" Remus called out as he lounged upside down on the couch. 

Roman looked up from the book he was reading. It was the third book on vampires that week. The older of the two had taken to reading everything that had ever mentioned vampires in an attempt to find a way he could fight Virgil. It was a bit of a dramatic reaction but that was Roman for you. "Yeah?"

If you really want to kill Virgil-" Roman flinched but Remus pushed forward. He knew calling the vampire by his name would eventually make his brother see that it was still the man he fell for just with some enhanced abilities and a weird appetite. "Why don't you just take him on a date, pretend you've seen the error of your ways but order him something with a lot of garlic?"

Roman blinked. He had….never thought about that. He hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose that could work." 

"Or if you want you could just invite him over and make something with a lot of garlic. Then when he eats it, it'll weaken him and then you can stab him with a stake." 

Roman stared in horrific awe of his brother. "I can't believe something that would have horrified me before is so sensible now." He slouched in his chair and placed a hand over his face. "My brother is making sense, the world's gone mad." 

Remus chuckled. "Or if you want you can just get your freak on with Virgil instead of trying to kill him. Maybe you have a biting kink?" 

Roman flushed scarlet and threw his book at his brother. "SHUT UP YOU DEMON!" 

Remus only snorted as he slid down off the couch. "I'm just saying, it's an option." 

Roman only groaned in response.

----------

Roman had to admit his brother's idea was a pretty good one. The, inviting the vampire to dinner to poison him one, not the other one. It would hopefully lower the vampires' guard and maybe, just maybe, he could pull it off without the vampire noticing. 

So, without any other options, Roman set about making up a perfect dinner. Roasted garlic potatoes? Check! Chicken alfredo, rich with garlic seasoning? Check! Holy water for a drink? Check! And all that was left for him to do was to invite the vampire over, cook, and set up the scene. What could go wrong? 

🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️

Heyyyyy, so it's been a bit, a hot minute if you will, I'm sorry this is so short I just wanted to get something out and this has been just sitting in my drafts for months now. So i added a few sentences and here we go a short chapter but a chapter nonetheless I promise I'm trying to work on more. Thank you for reading and Happy first day of Halloween to those who celebrate it!

Taglist: @misery-killed-me @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @little-euro-girl @unicornofdarknessstuff @alias290 @odette-ssbu @ray-does-stuff

COD taglist: @kittycake574 @rainbow-Roman @icequeenoriginal @ilovemygaydad @comicsimpson @notalwaysthebadguy @iloveyatothemoonandback @hitmewiththatfanart33

[jawritter]

Broken Me...

CH. 1

Summery: The Dallas Convention couldn't have come at a worse time for Jensen. His world fell apart earlier that morning, but was expected to just act like everything was normal. You and a friend were at the convention for her birthday. Life hasn't been that great for you either, but a forced meeting on stage changes two worlds. Will you be able to put this broken man back together again...

Series Warings: Cheating, shitty marriage, Danneel is a bitch, I unfortunatley have to put that as a warning because some people tend to get turnt up about it if you don’t... Smut, Crying, Suiside Attempt, brief discription of suicide attempt and recovery, depression, hints of self loathing, language. I think that’s it... Suicide Trigger warnings will be placed over each chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Cheating Danneel, Depressed Jensen, Emotionally hurt Jensen, Language, I think that’s it...

pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1797

A/N: BINGE READ TIME!! As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is gold!! Hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want More? Check out my masterlist!!

****MASTERLIST****

Jensen pov:

"Yeah I'm well aware this is partly my fault Danneel there's no reason to drive the point home, but I wasn't the one fucking one of my employees was I?" 

Jensen was reeling, he couldn’t believe this was happening, he couldn’t believe what he had seen, it all felt just, not real...Like some strange out of body experience or nightmare that he just couldn’t wake up from..

Then as if to add insult to injury, here she was on the phone with him, trying to make it out like this was all HIS fault... 

Like he was the one bouncing on the dudes dick when she came home from work, and not the other way around. 

He just wanted to see his family, his kids, his wife, maybe even play with the God damn dog a little before leaving for the hotel before the convention started tonight. You would have never convinced him of what he was going to find when he walked through that front door the way he did today, not in a million years. 

The raw and unforgiving reality of it though was that it was real, he saw it with his own eyes, and just like that, his marriage was over. It was almost too much for him to take all at once, and the longer he heard her make one excuse right after the other to try and play the victim, instead of the cheating whore that she was, the more angry he got...

"All that time I was gone you weren't the only one that was lonely!! You weren't the only one who wanted to be close to someone!! I WANTED TO BE CLOSE TO YOU!! I HAD MY DAMN PICK OF ANYONE I WANTED!! I SPENT WEEKS PLANNING THIS TRIP SO I CAN HAVE JUST A FEW HOURS WITH YOU!! I'M DONE DANNEEL WE'RE DONE!!" 

Hanging up the phone before he could say anything he might regret, or anything she might be able to use against him in court, Jensen threw his phone across the room onto the hotel bed and shoved his hands into his hair, trying to get a hold of his frustration. 

 He started trying to talk it out with her, he really did, but the longer he was on the phone with her, the more his temper got the best of him. By the time he got off the phone with her, his face was red, and he had a knot in his stomach that made him feel like he wanted to vomit, and he was pretty sure that his blood pressure was at stroke level the whole time driving from Austin to Dallas…

He only had about three hours to get myself together before the rest of the cast and crew would arrive to get their rooms, and start the convention…

He was supposed to perform tonight for the Saturday nights special like he always did… So he had to get himself together before that started, and he had to take the stage in front of all those fans..

Thank God the hotel staff let him check in early. So he didn’t have to go to his parents to face them, or drive around Dallas for three hours because he was in no shape to be driving around right now. 

Jensen didn’t have time to get drunk before the show tonight, or to sober up in time for it to start anyway, so he paced around his room trying to control his rapidly beating heart rate. Because right now he either felt like he was having a heart attack, panic attack, or both…

His mind was reeling with questions. 

“How could she do this to me? I made sure she wanted for nothing. I loved and supported  her the only way I could. I don't understand why she did this. I was faithful, even when I had every opportunity not to be I was faithful. This isn’t fair. Did she ever love me at all?”

A knock on the door disturbs him from my thoughts, and he glared at it a moment, thinking about ignoring it until he heard Jared yelling through the door. 

"Hey J!! Are you there? I got here a little early, and they said downstairs that you were already here!! Let's get a drink before everyone else gets here!!" 

A drink did sound pretty good, and if there was any he trusted it was Jared. He'd known Jensen the at his worst, and at his best, and he was always there when he needed him. 

He had a right to know what happened. 

Jensen grabbed his hat and shades before walking to the door, leaving his phone on the bed, he didn’t want to talk to Danneel anymore, he’d said everything he had to say, and if anyone wanted to find him that bad they usually called Jared. 

Steading his nerves before he opened the door to join Jared for drinks he couldn’t help but feel like this was going to be a long convention. 

.....................................

Your POV:

"Come on Y/n!! Put that damn guitar down!! The concert starts in one hour, and I want a good seat!!" Y/f/n yells at you from the hotel bathroom.

Rolling your eyes you sit your guitar back into its case, and put it in the closet so that housekeeping or whatever wouldn’t just see it laying around and take it. 

It was your most prized possessions...

Music was your life... 

It's what kept you going, what got you out of bed in  the morning, and the last thing you thought about before you went to bed at night.

Most importantly it was there for you when no one else was… That much you had learned the hard way…

 "Don't you think getting there an hour early is a little extreme?" You complain, turning around and checking your makeup in the mirror and grabbing your phone, and slipping it into your back pocket.

"Look you have no idea how crazy these people are that come to these cons, and I want to be so close to the stage I get sprayed with spit when Rob starts to sing." She says matter of factly, pulling her purse over her shoulder, and meeting you by the front door.

"Yeah because that's what a totally sane person would say about their seating arrangements." You mumble, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as you open the door. 

The girl had it bad for Rob, which honestly was a nice chance, most girls were here for Jared, Jensen, or Misha.. 

You were more interested in seeing Jensen tonight yourself. The way his voice washed over you when he sang! Ugh there's nothing else in this world like it. It always rolled over you like honey, but burned slow, like a shot of the best top shelf whisky..The man wasn't human. 

He was a damn God, and deserves to be treated as such. 

The two of you rode the elevator to the first floor laughing, and talking about music. There were two guys in the elevator when you two got on, but you didn’t really pay them any mind. One of them smelled like he'd had more than one drink, and they both seemed to be trying to blend into the back wall of the elevator, not wanting to talk to the two of you.

"If they call for a fan to come up on stage tonight you should totally go sing with Jensen." She said, elbowing you in the ribs. Eating herself the best bitchface you could muster.

"No way dude, I'd never get past the first line. I'd freak out, and make myself look like a complete, and total idiot.." 

The shorter one of the men in the elevator smirked at the ground at your conversation. There was something familiar about that smirk........

You were about to tell him it was rude to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, when your friend spoke up again..

"Come on Y/n for my birthday PLEASE!!" She begged, giving you puppy dog eyes worthy of Sam Winchester. 

"No way. He's not gonna want to sing with someone like me.” You say, trying to brush her off.. 

“What would you even want us to sing?" 

The two of you exited the elevator, and you had all but forgotten about the two men following you just in ear shot. 

"Hmm.... I don't Know........ How about.... Picture, by kid rock and Sheryl Crow." She said, all but bouncing as you joined the already forming line outside the doors leading into the hall where they were about to have the concert. 

She loved that song, even though it was overplayed and overdone.

"That song is so damn old Google probably can't even find the lyrics to it anymore." You tease her.

She just rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at you.

“It’s my birthday, so I pick the song! I didn’t say you’d have to like it”

The doors were opened before long, and the two of you made your way through the doors into the large room the concert was being held in. Leaving early had paid off. You were center stage, front row. Thanks to your friend’s media pass and gold tickets too, but you weren’t going to point that out. 

Y/f/n was jumping up and down in her seat with excitement, and you just couldn’t burst her bubble.

"Did you see those two guys that were in the elevator with us?" You asked, as the two of you watched the other fans filter into the room. 

The smile that one guy did sure did look familiar. You wished you could have gotten a better look at his face better, but they were both wearing shades and ball caps; keeping their heads down like they didn’t want to be bothered, and you didn’t want to stare at them, and make them feel uncomfortable.. 

"Yeah I saw them, probably just two dudes here with their girlfriends." she says shrugging you off as she sets up her camera for tonight. You don’t know why you cared so much, not like it mattered anyway who they were, or why they were here, there were a lot of strange people that went to these conventions, and they probably were here with their girlfriends, but still that smirk…

You shoved the thought of the two strangers in the elevator aside, you were about to see “The Jensen Ackles” sing. Honestly if you could have known you were going to die when he walked off stage. 

You'd die happy. 

Just cause you were that close to that beautifully sculpted, almost inhuman body, and voice that could melt you like butter. 

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

Tag List: @deanwanddamons​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @alanegaming @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ 

Binge Tag:

@sarahbaker2010​

[hellimagines]

Scared to Love You -- Dettlaff van der Eretein

Masterlist

Request: “hi!! i have a detlaff request!! something like reader was his friend and she knew about syanna’s secret!! she tried to warn detlaff but well he didn’t believe her. later they meet again when geralt convinced detlaff what syanna did and detlaff feels angry at him for treating reader like that! ilysm❤️”

Summary: You and Dettlaff have an argument when you try telling him about who Rhenawedd really is, only for him to lash out and break your heart. 

Warnings: big angst in the beginning, with fluff at the end (as a treat)

Pairing: Dettlaff x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,900+

A/N: I haven’t played Blood and Wine in a while, so I’m sorry if the timeline is a little funky.

A stuffed bear hurtled across the room, exploding into a mess of stuffing and fur when it made contact with the wall, a few inches beside your head. Pieces of the bear got tangled with your hair, but you made no move to pick them out or even spare them a glance. A few more of Dettlaff’s toy creations met the same fate as the vampire destroyed the room in his rage. 

Suddenly he turned on you, his eyes filled with rage. “You’re wrong. Rhenawedd wouldn’t fake her own kidnapping or use me to kill a couple of knights. This is someone else’s doing, she would have no reason for this!” Dettlaff snarled and his face began to contort as his transformation threatened to take over. 

“That’s because she isn’t Rhenawedd, it’s not her real name!” you cried while peeling yourself away from the wall. “Her name is Sylvia Anna, and she is the sister of Duchess Anna Henrietta, I’ve told you this!”

Dettlaff scoffed lowly, “Yes, you have told me about this supposed conspiracy, after admitting to having spied on her.” 

Your cheeks burned at Dettlaff’s words, causing you to scowl up at him. “She was acting strangely and I was worried. Not only about her, but about you. I care about you, more than she does! You are walking into a trap and you are going to get yourself killed!” you yelled at him, no longer trying to keep the peace.

Dettlaff stalked forward, cowering you against the wall once more. “Have you ever stopped to consider that I don’t care about you or what you have to say? I’m aware of your feelings for me, (Y/N), you must at least know that. I can hear your heart race and I can smell your arousal whenever I’m near. Your jealousy of Rhenawedd is a stench that permeates the room, and it disgusts me. Nothing you can say or do will make me love you the way you love me, or care about you as I care for Rhenawedd.”

You tried, god did you try, to keep the quiver from your lip and the tears from your eyes, but you couldn’t. Your heart shattered at your friend’s words, falling to pieces like a weight in your stomach as he glared down at you viciously. For the better part of ten years, you had traveled at Dettlaff’s side, giving him company and keeping him safe. You helped him feed, helped him find comfortable places to stay, helped him with Regis, helped him with Rhenawedd. You did anything he asked, and in turn, he kept you safe and happy; even when he would ask you to find somewhere else for the night because Rhenawedd was there, even when you would have to sleep in the forest or in Regis’ crypt because there was nowhere else, even when he randomly left you alone for days or weeks because ‘Rhenawedd has never seen Skellige, and she’s been sad lately’, you were still happy because Dettlaff was happy and you could still call him your friend. But now, listening to his claws scratching against the wall by your head as he closed his hand into a fist, you felt angry and broken and stupid. So very, very stupid. 

“You are a cruel man, Dettlaff. I would call you a monster, but monsters are brainless creatures that hurt others because that’s all they know how to do. You’re not a monster, you’re just heartless and pathetic,” you spat after a moment to gather your thoughts. Your tears fell down your rage-filled face, slipping into the creases and dripping over your nose and your lips, but you didn’t wipe a single one away. You didn’t care that you probably looked like the naive, foolish girl Dettlaff had seen you as this whole time, your body and your mind felt too exhausted from the crash of heartache you had been hit with. You slammed your hands against his chest, causing him to stumble back in shock from not only the push but your words as well. “I wish you the best of luck in finding Rhenawedd, and I sincerely hope I am wrong because I would hate to have to tell Regis that you died for someone who wouldn’t spare your burning corpse a single glance.”

Dettlaff didn’t make any move to stop you as you left the room and stormed downstairs, leaving him, and the life you had with him, behind.

--

A couple of weeks had passed since your argument with Dettlaff, and you had been living in a small cottage on the outskirts of Beauclair, near the cemetery Regis’ was staying at, courtesy of Orianna. Regis knew of your whereabouts, but when you refused to tell him why you were in the cottage rather than with Dettlaff, he had respectfully let the manner drop. Orianna had been kind enough to give you a job tending to the flowers in her estate and hadn’t bothered with any questions when you told her you were trying to save money so you could go north, away from Toussaint. Needless to say, you were surviving just fine without Dettlaff and had even managed to keep yourself from asking the other vampires about him. However, of course Dettlaff would come barreling into your life once more right when you had managed to put a few pieces of your heart back together. 

It was late and you had just returned home after tending to a new batch of flowers Orianna had received. Your feet ached due to the long journey from the estate back to your cottage, but when you noticed your front door wide open, the pain seemed to vanish. Adrenaline took its place when you heard huffs of rage from inside your house, causing you to grab a nearby shovel before going inside. 

You were expecting to be met with a destroyed home, with what few belongings you had to be tossed on the floor and the furniture to be upturned. Instead, everything was just how you had left it this morning, minus the shaking vampire on your couch. You knew it was Dettlaff before he raised his head, recognizing the gothic coat and black hair instantly. When Dettlaff looked at you, his blue eyes didn’t hold any of the rage you had seen the last time you saw him, and instead were filled with sorrow- no doubt mimicking the own heartbreak in your eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you questioned when Dettlaff didn’t speak, setting the shovel down and shutting your front door. 

Dettlaff remained silent for a few more minutes, staring at you as though he had no idea why he was there. He swallowed thickly before standing, and his clawed hand twitched at his side, in an effort to keep from reaching out to you. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, the words tumbling off his tongue in a nearly illegible speed. “What I said to you was cruel, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, I was just so angry and hurt at the thought of Rhenawedd using me as a weapon. It does not excuse my words or my actions, but I need you to know that I didn’t mean any of it. I do care about you, I always have, and I will never stop caring about you.”

You ignored the ache in your chest to reach out for him. “Why are you here, Dettlaff?” you repeated, schooling your face into one of neutrality. 

“You were right. About Rhen-... about Syanna. Geralt and Regis cornered me and brought Syanna along with them. She admitted to faking the kidnapping and being the one responsible for the letters.” Your eyes widened in brief shock at Dettlaff’s words. “I wanted to go after her and kill her, kill her for what she did, and for what I did to you. But Regis said you wouldn’t appreciate that as much as me coming to you without blood all over me.”

“Regis is a smart man,” you hummed while eyeing the vampire before you. His words were honest, you could tell, but it didn’t fix the hollowness you still felt inside your chest. “I’m sorry you got hurt, Dettlaff, but it doesn’t make up for the fact that you hurt me, really bad.”

“I know and I’m so sorry,” he practically whined, quickly come to stand before you. “When I first sensed that you saw me as more than a friend, I became terrified. I didn’t understand how, after everything you had seen me do, you could care for me in such an intimate way. I didn’t want to have you by my side only to watch you die from old age or disease or a mortal wound. So I hoped if I ignored your feelings, and in turn my own, you would give up and leave.”

“And yet you allowed Syanna to love you and stand by your side,” you muttered with a frown.

“I was never scared of losing her or watching her die, not like I am with you. When I sensed your sadness during our fight, it broke something in me. I never wished to hurt you or to be the cause of your despair, and for that, I will never truly forgive myself. I didn’t come here to beg for your forgiveness, either, to play the victim in a fight I caused. I came here to make sure you know how much I care about you and how much I love you. If you wish for me to leave, I will-”

You interrupted Dettlaff before he could finish his sentence, and shook your head. “I don’t want you to leave. I understand now, why you did what you did, and even though I’m still hurt, I do forgive you. I’ve always seen you as strong and sensitive and kind, but I never thought that you might be scared of loving me.”

Dettlaff reached forward and pulled you against his body, sighing a breath of relief when you went willing. You uncrossed your arms and wrapped them around his waist, clutching the back of his coat in a white-knuckled grip. He had one hand gripping your hip and the other cradling the back of your head, holding you tightly against his body. As you breathed in the familiar scent of expensive Beauclair cologne, your breath stuttered with the sudden urge to cry. Dettlaff muttered apologies, words of praise, and promises-to-come as you quietly sobbed against his chest. 

“Wherever we go from here, and I do mean we, I will never treat you so horribly again. I love you so very much, (Y/N), and I regret taking so long to be honest with you about it,” Dettlaff whispered once your sobs turned to sniffles and your sniffles to silent hiccups. 

As exhaustion settled into your bones, making your body feel heavy and your brain feel foggy, all you could manage was a nod. You would have time later for heartfelt words and soft kisses and nights spent clutching bedsheets, but for now, you were content to be held in his arms as your heart thrummed with happiness once again.

[harrysmanystyles]

“are you sure about that?”

A/N: I just was really in the mood for frat boy harry okay

The day had been off from the moment I woke up. My stomach churned at the thought of the events the day coming about, and as I walked into my Philosophy class that morning and locked eyes with him, I felt it. The spark. And as much as I tried to resist it, the feeling demanded to be felt. Quickly, I turned around and sat in my normal seat, waiting for him to take his usual seat next to me. It was a routine, one that I had grown comfortable with. Although being around Harry made me feel things I didn’t necessarily want to feel, his company was somewhat entertaining and familiar.

Moments later, he plops down in the seat next to me, immediately grabbing my notebook to see what I was so intently staring at. “This is a blank page,” he teases, flopping it back onto my desk. I give him a small smile.

“Sorry, I’m just feeling a bit distracted, thats all,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ears, a nervous habit I’ve grown into since coming to college. Harry notices, he notices everything.

“Calm down, love, that was meant to be a joke.” He gives me a look, and glances at the professor who’s getting ready to start the lecture. “You’re still coming tonight, right?” He asks, his eyes hopeful. How could I ever say no? When I nod, a triumphant grin takes over his features. Harry is a hard person to say no to, and at times he can be manipulative to get what he wants. I’m sure he’s used that tactic multiple times on many girls just like me. Hence, why I have no interest in catching any feelings for him, I will not be just another conquest. My heart has been broken too many times before.

Harry and I have been friends for a little while now. We both ended up in the same philosophy class for the semester, and somehow, he weaseled his way into studying with me. Last week, he asked me to come to a party him and his friends were throwing at their house over the weekend. He claimed that I need to ‘let loose’ and ‘enjoy myself a little’. I rolled my eyes, but agreed to it nonetheless. What else was I going to do? The last few weekends I’ve spent studying holed up in my room, and he knew that.

The professor starts lecturing, and it startles me out of my trance. I begin to take notes like I always do, and as my pen scribbles on my paper I can feel his eyes on me, taking in my every move. I ignore him, pretending like I don’t notice, and eventually he turns to face the front, a sigh escaping his lips.

When the class finishes, we both stand at the same time, nearly knocking each other over. He grabs my arms before I fall back into my seat. “These seats are way too close together,” he remarks, releasing me from his grasp once he sees I’ve regained my balance.

“Thanks,” I mumble, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. I grab my backpack and turn to leave when he grabs my arm.

“See you tonight,” he smirks, and with that, turns and walks away, leaving me with the burning sensation of where his hand gripped my arm and a bundle of nerves dwindling in my stomach.

-

Its quarter to 11 when my roommate, Rose, and I walk up the sidewalk to the front door of Harry’s house. The house is shaking from the music, and there are people spilling out the front windows. This should be interesting. I pull down my uncomfortably tight skirt that Rose forced me to wear, feeling a bit overdressed for a house party. I look over at her, “What?” She says.

“This was a bad idea, I should have stayed home. What if—“ She cuts me off.

“What if nothing. You look hot, and Harry invited you for you to have fun. You can’t just stay cooped up in our apartment all the time, it’s not good for you.” She gives me a smirk, grabs my hand, and pulls me into the house. She knows my mixed emotions towards him, and she wants to see how the night is going to play out. Deep down, so do I, but I’m afraid of what’s to come. I roll my eyes as we stumble past the front door. I’m immediately hit by a wave of musty heat, and I crinkle my nose in disgust. What is this? A frat party? “Come on, let’s go get a drink!” Rose shouts over the music, and I nod in agreement. I’m definitely going to need a drink to get me through the night. Scratch that, I’ll need way more than one.

We head over to the kitchen to find that the island is covered with bottles of opened and unopened liquor and mixers. I grab a solo cup and begin to mix myself a drink. “Whoa, slow down there,” I hear his voice in front of me, and look up to see him standing a mere 6 inches away. My voice catches in my throat, but the second I take a drink out of my cup, I regain my confidence. I feel his eyes raking down my body, a twinge of lust in his gaze. Well, I guess the outfit did its job. I clear my throat, pulling him back to reality.

“Don’t let me have more than five of these,” I point at him jokingly and give him a knowing look, taking another big swig. I need to be at least a little drunk for this conversation. He laughs and shakes his head in fake disappointment.

“No promises, remember? You’re letting loose tonight,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Mhm, yeah, I don’t remember saying that?” I say, a small grin on my lips. He laughs and opens his mouth to respond, but Rose cuts him off.

“I think we need to go dance,” she says, pouring more liquor in both of our cups, and then dragging me to the dance floor. Well, the living room. I look back to see if Harry was still there, and yes he was, staring at me with a not quite smirk on his lips. I felt a blush come on, and immediately turned around.

It felt like I’d been there for hours. Dancing, pouring more alcohol, then dancing some more. The room wasn’t quite spinning, but one more drink and it would be. “I need the bathroom!” I yell over the pounding music.

“What?” Rose responds, and I shake my head.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, and as I turn to leave I notice Rose is dancing with Harry’s friend. I knew it would happen, it was just a matter of time. She’s had eyes for him all year, and when she sets her sight on someone, she always finishes. Can’t wait to wake up with him in my kitchen tomorrow morning.

I squeeze through the crowd toward the back of the house, where there’s a staircase that leads upstairs. There has to be a bathroom up there, right? I stumble up the steps and open the door to the first room I find. Immediately hearing moans, I slam the door shut without even looking to see who it was. Gross, lock the door next time please. I move to another room down the hall. The door flies open to reveal Harry laying on his bed, his head whips to my direction, and a smirk overtakes his features. “Well hello to you too,” he says, sitting up in his bed. The drunkness in me tells me to go inside, and I listen. What are you doing?

“Sorry, I was just looking for the bathroom. I—“

“You look like you’ve definitely had more than five,” Harry chuckles. He stands from his bed and makes his way over to me. I go to walk toward him, and trip over the chair sitting at his desk. Shit, I really should have been keeping track. Harry grabs me, and once I’m steadied, I take one look at his face and pull away. This is exactly the situation I didn’t want to end up in tonight. “That’s the second time I’ve saved you from your own clumsiness today. Shall we start keeping count?” He jokes.

“Ha ha, very funny,” I say sarcastically, avoiding his face. I know the second we make eye contact, I’ll just melt. And thats exactly what he wants. “Why are you even up here? The party is downstairs, not in your room,” God, why do I sound like such a dumbass right now?

“I just needed a break, it gets a bit too loud for my liking, so I come up here to let my head settle,” he answers. I nod, and stare at my feet, unsure of what to say or do next. The pounding music vibrates through the walls of his surprisingly clean bedroom, and I feel my heartbeat quicken in my chest just at the sound of his breath a few feet in front of me. I look up at him. His eyes lock with mine, and my heart feels as if it’s about to burst. Unintentionally, my eyes widen at the sight of his beautiful features. When I’m drunk, everything is heightened. My sensitivity to his presence and the effect his bone structure has on me is unintentional and unwanted. I watch his hands as he cracks his knuckles and he chuckles when he sees my response to his mere being. The curves of his soft, pink lips call out to mine as he says, “you okay?” I can hear the smirk in his voice. The effect he has on me is unnatural, and as much as I try to resist him, I can’t. 

"I don't feel anything for you, you know," I blurt out randomly and confidently. “So whatever you think you’re doing here, it’s not working.” Well, it sounded much more confident in my head than it did when I said it aloud. Where did that even come from? He asked me if I was okay, not if I was in love with him. This was more of an attempt to convince myself than him. If I could say it out loud, maybe that would make it true. His laugh rolls deeply in his chest, and he takes a step closer. I take a step back.

"Are you sure about that?" Another step closer. Another step back. His eyes burn holes into mine as he walks, and I become afraid of what little control I have over myself in this moment. Who just blurts something like that out randomly? Crazy people, thats who. I feel myself becoming overpowered by his figure, but still try to defend my useless attempts denying my feelings. 

"Y-yes," I say, it was meant to be a statement, though it came out as more of a question. Another step forward. Another step back. I stumble backward until my back hits the wall. Trapped, with nowhere to go. A reckless smirk overtakes his beautiful features as he takes his last step towards me. 

With only centimeters between us, he bends down so his face is level with mine, fists like pillars securely fastened on the wall above my head. His uneven breaths fan over my face, and the immediate smell of what I have come to realize is his regularly chewed spearmint gum mixed with vodka fill my nostrils. I take in a shaky breath. I’ve never been this close to him, and my fuzzy thoughts are attempting to make sense of what’s happening. I feel something in me shift, almost as if my confidence decided to make its presence known in my moment of weakness. 

"Because it really doesn't seem that way," he taunts, his jade eyes peering into my brown ones. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears as his gaze intensifies. Every bone in my body tells me to resist him, but I swallow back the nerves rising in my throat, grab him by the collar of his shirt, and crash my lips into his.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Three

Thank you guys for your patience, if I haven't been replying its because I haven't been getting on tumblr for a hot minute but I am back now!!

This is part 1 of 2 of Seventy-Three, part 2 will be up in tomorrow night.

I love y'all, thank you so much!!

Words: 4.8k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse, violence, inappropriate sexual behavior

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“I am going to kill you!” I shout, chasing Stevie and Slash over the hotel beds with Duff eventually tackling me when they lock themselves into the bathroom.

“You’re the one who ate the brownies, Viv! It’s common sense not to do that!” Steven tells me from the other side of the door.

“Your ass is grass and I’m going to mow it!” I yell back.

“No one’s mowing ass!” Duff tells me. “We’re just gonna wait for it to pass." He says in reference to my inevitable high.

“I’m gonna puke.” I insist, pushing him off of me.

“D-Do you feel sick?” He asks me, worried, and I open the door of the bathroom, Steven and Slash peeking their heads out of the shower from behind the curtain.

“No, I’m gonna make myself throw up so I don’t trip balls.” I explain.

“Ew.” Slash mumbles.

“Viv, no, it won’t be that bad.” Steven assures me as I kneel over the toilet, and Duff pulls me up.

“It’s not like it’s gonna kill you, Viv, alright, just stay in the room and let it run its course. Don’t do that to yourself.” He tells me, motioning to the toilet and I raise my brows.

“Just go lay down and relax.” Slash adds.

“Fine.” I state, stepping out of the bathroom.

"So, you've got this handled." Stevie starts to Duff. 

"Yeah?"

"We're going back down to the bar." Steven declares, pulling Slash to the door with him. 

"Dude, what? They were your brownies." Duff tells him. 

"That she ate without asking." Steven points out. 

"I was hungry!"

"Then you go to McDonalds! You don't eat brownies you find in our room!" Steven replies. 

"Alright, okay, you two go. I got this." Duff sighs. 

"Thank you. Bye." He replies and they leave us, Duff shutting the door behind them as I lay down, getting under the covers and turning the TV on, Looney Tunes playing as Duff steps to the bed.

"You can go back downstairs, I'm sure I'll be fine. I don't even feel anything." I mumble and he looks at me, pointedly. 

"No, I'm staying." He states, taking his jacket and boots off, getting in to bed with me, sitting up against the headboard as I lay my head in his lap.

A few minutes later, I'm getting out from under the covers because it's rubbing against my skin too hard.

"You okay?" Duff asks me when I go to pull my shirt over my head. 

"My freaking skin hurts." I reply and he raises his brows. 

"It's the brownies."

"It's not the brownies." I reply, suddenly freezing when I make eye contact with Daffy Duck, catching him staring at me through the TV, and feel feathers against my fingers. 

"What're you doing?" Duff asks me and I realize I'm rubbing my finger tips together on both hands, and when I look at him, another realization comes to mind. 

"If you combine 'Daffy' and 'Duck' you get 'Duffy'." I tell him and he raises a brow. 

"Y-Yeah?"

"Or 'Dack'. I feel like this is a perfect time for you to tell me my favorite joke." I tell him and he raises his brows. "'Paint my house'." I mock his voice, giggles consuming me once I'm done and he laughs with me.

"Viv--"

"--I'm kinda hungry."

"You ate five brownies, babe." He reminds me.

"Pot brownies don't count as food." I state, reaching for the phone. "I'm getting room service." 

"No, no," he stops me, chuckling, grabbing the phone from me. "You do not want to get food while you're high and hungry. You'll order stuff you've never even heard of and we'll be murdered for running up the bill."

"We can just get Doc to pay for it." I shrug, going for the phone in his hand. 

"Which is why it's not a good idea." He explains.

"If he gets his panties in a wad over room service he can just eat a brownie and he'll feel fine." I snatch the phone from him and dart for the bathroom.

"Vivian, baby!" He calls, opening the bathroom door before I can close it but it's too late, I'm dialing the number for room service, swatting Duff's hand away, though the movement seems as if it's delayed--at least my vision is delayed, or my mind, I don't know.

"Hello?" The man on the other line picks up and I furrow my brows, the fear that he knows I'm high infiltrating my mind. "Hello?" He repeats and I hang up and drop the phone. 

"What if he tells my parents?" I ask myself, trying to stay calm as anxiety rises.

"W-What?" Duff asks me, confused.

"Dad will kill me. Mom--oh, God, mom will never let me live it down." I push past him to pace in the room and he furrows his brows. 

"Viv--"

"--How do I even begin to explain to my parents I'm on drugs. Does pot even count as a drug? It's natural--so is fucking arsenic but do you see anybody putting that shit in brownies?" I ask myself. "I'm going to hell." I conclude, tears coming to my eyes. "I'm going to hell." I repeat, my voice cracking. 

"Viv, you ate them on accident, you're not going to hell for accidentally getting high." 

"I want Nikki." I say next, my heart beat beginning to hammer.

"If he finds out you're like this, we could get in trouble, Viv." Duff tells me.

"I want Nikki." I repeat, my breathing getting more frantic.

I stare at Fred, Doc, and Rich Fischer...and Bob Timmons, rolling my jaw as they look at me pointedly, waiting for me to say something in response. Anything.

“Are you gonna say anything?” Doc finally asks me and I lick my lips.

“What the hell am I supposed to say, Doc?” I ask him, furrowing my brows a little. “I-I’ve tried to talk to him about it a million times the past three years and he refuses to acknowledge he has an issue.” I state.

“Because he feels like he’s got nothing to lose.” Doc informs me. “I know you two aren’t on good terms, anyway, but, Vivian, we can’t have one of our guys nearly falling out on stage on smack. That’s not good press.”

“Since when the hell do we care about good or bad press?” I laugh humorlessly.

“Since I don’t want Nikki to fucking die on this tour.” Doc snaps.

“Can’t make money off tickets if the bassist dies and there’s no band to tour, anymore, right?” I ask him, poking my lip out sarcastically for a moment and he glares at me.

“I’m not in it for money.” Fred cuts in, seriously, a genuine look of worry on his face. “He’s like a brother to me. I’m not fucking in it for the money. I just don’t wanna see him dead.”

“We’re already getting a divorce so what the hell is it gonna do to threaten divorce if he doesn’t stop shooting up?” I ask them, raising my brows.

“I promise, it’ll get his attention.” Fred assures me.

“Do you know something that I don’t?” I cut my eyes at him. “Because all I’ve heard is how ready he is to get away from me and be free.”

“Just talk to him.” Fred ignores my question, which confirms that whatever shit Nikki feeds me about wanting to leave me as soon as possible is all bark with no bite behind it.

“What’s in it for me?” I ask them.

“The gratification of knowing you’re doing what Jesus would do.” Doc sarcastically replies.

“Jesus would exorcise him.” I bite back.

“I promise we haven’t ruled that option out yet.” He sighs out.

That was the first of many “what’re we going to do about Nikki?” meetings on that tour. Nikki had gone on high as hell--thinking no one noticed--and nearly passed out after flipping down the stage and taking way too long to get back up, and when he did get up, he nearly fell off the stage and could barely keep his eyes open. They had to remedy his stupor with a few bumps of coke during Tommy’s drum solo.

He got up in arms if anyone tried to confront him about it, brushing it off like he was just really tired that night, so they called me up to bat.

I guess they forgot I couldn’t talk to him about anything without it turning into a fight--especially not about his heroin addiction.

"So, even though we're separated and he's your client, you're leaving it up to me to convince him to get sober?" I clarify. 

"He's not doing himself any favors, Vivian, you know that. This isn't just affecting your marriage." Doc tells me. 

"Um, yeah, I've been trying to tell you that for years now but the second it turns into him risking the loss of money going in to your pockets you're all about getting him some fucking help." I snap, standing up. "Thank you for confirming you're the piece of shit I was afraid you were." 

"Vivian, wai--"

"--Go fuck yourself, Doc. You're lucky I don't fucking fire you." 

I leave the meeting with Fred at my heels. 

"Viv, wait." He grasps at my wrist and turns me to face him, making me flare my nostrils with frustration. 

"I'm not talking to him, Fred."

"Vivian, he's more likely to listen to you than any of us."

"Are you kidding me?! He'll laugh in my face!" I give up and raise my voice, hoping it'll get my point across since they seem to not understand english when it's spoken calmly and quietly. 

"Viv, just try it. Just once. Please." He begs.

"Fine."

I already felt like it was my job to fix him, and having that responsibility of being the only one capable of getting Nikki to slow down only added to that burden that I knew right away I'd be unable to bear but tried to do so anyway.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I was locked out of mine and my husband's room. I accidentally left the key in there before I left and he doesn't have his with him, either." I tell the receptionist at the front desk of the hotel.

"Do you have any ID?" She asks me and I pull out my license, smiling.

"Here you go." I show her. "Vivian and Nikki Sixx, but the room name is probably under Doc McGhee." I add and she flips through bookings for a moment before she nods. 

"Got it." She tells me, opening a drawer and pulling a spare out. 

"Thank you." I tell her politely, taking the key and heading to the elevator. 

"Enjoy your night." She replies. 

"Thanks, you too." I grin to myself mischievously, ready to piss on Nikki's parade. 

I get up to his room and unlock the door, smelling sweaty clothes, vomit, possibly urine, definite shit, semen, smoke, heroin, and coke.

"Ew." I mumble, seeing that he is nowhere to be found. 

I immediately start shuffling through his things, every pant pocket, every compartment in his suitcase, under the bed, in the drawers, under the mattress, in the pillow cases, in the bathroom, the closet, under the dresser, under the TV stand, the night stand, behind the bed, behind wall paintings, everywhere, and find absolutely nothing. 

"You've got to be kidding me." I say to myself, looking at the disheveled room. "If I were Nikki Sixx where would I hide my stash?" I say next…an idea popping into my mind. "The last thing I'd think anyone would suspect I would even touch." I answer myself, going back to the nightstand drawer, opening it back up to see a bible.

I open it and find the jackpot. 

I don't know where he found the time to hollow it out and put a baggie of china white and a small bindle of coke inside but I don't have time to think about it. 

"Really should have taken the expensive stuff with you, baby." I state, taking the china white out and pouring the powder into the toilet before throwing the baggie away, doing the same with the coke. 

I go to fix everything the way I found it but I'm stopped by the sound of the door knob being unlocked. 

I dodge into the closet, shutting the door as best as I can, hearing the room door swing open, and the sound of Nikki stumbling in, laughing while another woman giggles, making my heart hammer in my chest. 

"What's wrong?" I hear her giggling come to an abrupt stop. 

"I don't feel good, take a rain check." He brushes her off, and I hear him walk around the room, probably noticing it looks like a tornado hit it, worse than how he left it. 

"I thought we were gonna have some fun, though." I hear the pout in her voice.

"I'm sure Vinnie would take you up on that. He's across the hall." He sounds even more disinterested by the second, aggravation in his tone, but I don't believe it's because her. 

"Fucking rockstars." She complains, stomping out and slamming the door. 

"I can smell your perfume from here, Viv." He says, and I hear him kick some stuff out of his way before the sound of him sitting on the bed. 

I roll my eyes and step out of the closet, smiling at him innocently. 

"What the fuck are you doing in here? How'd you even fucking get it?" 

"I got a key." I inform him. 

"What are you doing here?" He asks again and I go to speak but can't, not knowing what lie to come up with.

I hesitate for too long, giving him too much time to think about it.

"Oh, you didn't." He sneers, before quickly walking to the nightstand, opening the drawer and grabbing the bible before he opens it to see it's empty. "God damnit, Vivian!" 

By this time I'm already almost at the door, within arms reach, but he's rushing to me and grabbing my hair, pulling me back, causing me to cry out before he's shoving me to the bed. 

"Where did you put it?!" He demands and I take deep breaths, staring at him. 

"I flushed it." I admit honestly and his face turns red, his fist balling up at his sides. 

"You did what?" He shakily asks again and I sit up.

"I. Flushed. It." I repeat. 

"Do you realize how much money that shit costs?!" He outbursts and I move to get off the bed, but he grabs my arm roughly so I can't get away. 

"Let go of me." I warn him, trying to get out of his grasp. 

"Answer me!" He barks at me.

I don't say another thing, my foot jutting out to kick him off of me, hard.

"Trust me, I know how much money that shit costs because you've been prioritizing it over our other finances for the past five years!" I argue back. 

"You fucking bitch!" He screams as I go for the door again.

"You strung out junkie!" I yell back.

The lamp shatters against the door when he throws it, the only light in the room is now coming from the bathroom and I turn to face him, anger growing in me at the fact he threw a lamp at me over something so stupid.

I'm taking my heel off and throwing it at him next before turning back around to leave, but when the blade of his switchblade lands a foot away from me, in the carpet, I get fed up.

I lunge at him, the two of us hitting the hotel floor with a heavy thud, my nails clawing at his bare chest before he shoves me off of him and grabs my wrists, the two of us in a stare off, catching our breath. 

"I'm only here because I'm worried about you, asshole!" I outburst at him."Your health is going to shit and--"

"--Oh, for fucks sake, Viv, when I die everything's going to you so don't act like you're not foaming at the mouth for me to finally croak." He snaps at me, pulling himself onto the bed, laying on his back.

"If I were eagerly awaiting your death I wouldn't be flushing anything to keep you away from it."

"As if I won't call up a dealer the second you get the fuck out. Speaking of which: get the fuck out." He motions to the door and I stand over him. 

"I'm not done talking."

"I am."

"Good, then you won't argue when I say that you need to slow down because Doc's getting uneasy due to that stunt you pulled last night." 

"I was tired."

"You were high."

"They don't know that."

"They sure do know that, they just haven't confronted you themselves because they don't need you going at them like a rabid dog." 

"Bullshit."

"There was a meeting. They even brought in Bob Timmons, Nikki." I reply and he closes his eyes and lets out a sharp breath before he sits up. "They were hoping maybe us talking about it might encourage you to put your health as a priority." I add, leaving out "get sober or get divorced," deciding that's the last thing he needs to hear, and he nods. "I know it probably won't do much, but, Nikki, we're really worried--I'm really worried." 

"We've had this conversation how many fucking times, Vivian?" He scoffs out, looking up at me. 

"I'm not an idiot, Nikki, you're not okay. You don't look good, you don't smell good, you didn't sound good--"

"--Are you done?" His voice gravels out, unamused, and in denial. 

"Nikki."

"I don't look good because I'm tired, I don't smell good because I haven't showered yet, and you don't know shit about music so who the fuck are you to tell me if I sounded good or not?" 

"You realize I'm not that naive little pipsqueak that just wanted to keep the peace and went along with whatever you said years ago, right?" 

"At least you knew how to keep your fucking mouth shut unless I wanted it open for reasons that had nothing to do with talking." He grumbles. 

I glare at him a moment longer and exhale.

"Tell your dealer I said 'hello'." I yield, grabbing my other shoe, leaving in defeat, holding back the tears leaking to my eyes. 

"The fuck's going on?" Izzy asks us as Steven, Slash and Duff look like deer caught in headlights, interrupted as they try to coax me back into the room.

"I'm too high." I state, panicking, and Izzy furrows his brows.

"You're what?" He asks me, looking at the guys. "She's what?"

"Too high." I repeat.

"Who is?" Axl asks, approaching us with a beer in hand, obviously not prepared for what he's about to find out.

"I am." I say at the same time, Steven says, "nobody."

Everybody's at a stand still for a moment, all of us staring at each other before Axl starts in. 

"She's what?!" He demands while Slash and Steven scramble to explain.

"Well, she, like...ate something and now--"

"--Don't tell me she ate those fucking brownies you two have been smuggling." He tells them and Slash slowly puts his sunglasses on to avoid direct eye contact as Stevie stutters out:

"Uh-Um, w-well...she had like five and it was a complete accident." 

"Five?!" He shouts next and I slowly back away as they become further occupied, darting down the hall and turning the corner, hearing Duff say, "wait, Viv!", making my feet go faster. 

The next morning is spent on the phone with Sharise while she goes over last minute wedding details for the date set for the one day the band has off next week. 

"She told me she wants bright pink bridesmaids dresses." I tell Vince, raising a brow.

"Yeah, I helped her pick them out." He smugly replies, knowing I was dreading the idea of looking like a cupcake.

"I hate you."

"I love you." He sarcastically states, leaning back in his chair at the breakfast table in the hotel's cafeteria. 

"Where the hell is everybody else, we're outta here in 20 minutes." Fred tells us and I raise my brows.

"Being that Tansy and Sparkie and Nikki were all up doing God knows what last night, I'm assuming they aren't even aware what year it is, currently." I reply to him, drinking a sip of orange juice.

"And what about Guns?" He asks next. 

"Heck if I know." I tell him and he groans, rubbing his forehead. "Okay, fine, I'll go get everybody rounded up. K?" I offer, standing.

"Thank you." He says to me as I walk to the elevator. 

Once I get to our floor, I start at Tommy's room, banging on the door until I hear, "What?!" from the other side.

"Get up, we leave in 20 minutes!" I say back, going to Tansy and Sparkie's room, knocking at the door.

It opens within seconds, Sparkie, completely naked, standing at the door with his brows raised.

I gag at the sight of him wearing nothing.

"We're leaving in 20 minutes." I tell him neutrally.

"I'll wake Tans up." He replies, smirking at me and I go to turn away but he's grabbing my arm. "You thought about what I said?" He asks me and I roll my jaw. 

"Mmm, still thinking on it." I don't even hide my sarcasm and he licks his lips. 

"Think a little harder, baby, because I almost let it out when we were hanging out last night." He informs me and my blood runs cold. "The longer you wait the easier it's gonna start wanting to just slip out without a second thought." He adds, shutting the door in my face and I let out a defeated breath, squeezing my eyes closed for a second and rubbing my forehead. 

When I turn to walk down to Steven's room, he and Slash are coming out, leaning on each other, both of them wearing sunglasses to shield their hangovers, dragging their luggage along behind them.

"Is Axl, Izzy and Duff up?" I ask them as I pass by. 

"I don't even think Axl slept. Izzy's trying to shoo away some girl and Duff's trying to finish packing." Steven replies flatly, obviously tired, and I go to Duff's room, knocking a few times before he opens the door. 

He opens it and his eyes light up.

"There you are." He says, stepping back to his suitcase that's on the bed as he starts tossing his belongings in.

"Yeah, I got up earlier for breakfast." I reply, grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste out of the bathroom.

"I figured." He states, running a hand through his hair before rubbing his eye. "Um, Izzy and Axl just left, I think, and I'll be down in a second, so." He informs me and I nod.

"Okay, I'm gonna go grab my stuff from my room." 

"K." He replies as I leave, going across the hall to unlock my door and gather my stuff. 

The door, that I left crack, is soon opening again and I think it's Fred or Doc or one of the guys, but when I look up from my suitcase to see Sparkie, I feel sick.

"You do realize sexual coercion is rape, right?" I blatantly ask, wanting him to know good and well what he's doing. 

"Not if it's consensual." He shrugs and I roll my jaw and zip up my bag.

"It's not consensual if you're having to blackmail me into doing it." I bite back, shoving past me to get out of the room, and I run smack dab into Fred, and pray he didn't hear our exchange. 

He opens his mouth to speak, quickly halting when Sparkie comes out behind me, smirking.

"Morning." He says to Fred. "Vivian." He more so sneers, heading to the elevator.

"The fuck is that about?" Fred asks, referring to Sparkie being in the room with me.

"Um, he was helping me pack." I lie, knowing if I tell him the truth he'll be arrested for murder.

"Right." He looks at me with unsure eyes before brushing it off. "We're loading up." 

Fred was a damn good actor.

The only thing keeping him from beating the shit out of Sparkie, was knowing when he told Nikki later on that night, Nikki would do a worse number on the bastard than he would.

"Wow, I can actually run a brush through it." I comment to Duff, combing out his hair before he picks up a can of hair spray to tease it a little.

"Extra conditioner. Who'da thought." He adds, grinning at me like a little kid.

"Viv, can you do this?" Stevie asks next, a slight whine to his voice.

"What is it?" I ask, stepping to him in the dressing room. 

When I see what he means, I look at him, unamused.

"Steven Adler. You know how to lace your pants up." 

"No, these are hard to do because the string is almost too big for the little holes they go through." He pleads his case, raising his brows. "You have tinier fingers, plus you're not fighting off an everlasting hangover and coke jitters."

I look down at his pants, seeing very well he's not wearing underwear, and take a deep breath.

"I'll keep my hands to myself, alright? I promise." He assures me, tucking his hands behind his back. 

"It's not your hands I'm worried about." I mumble, rolling my eyes.

I end up having to crouch to get eye level with the laces, and when the door opens up to reveal Axl, and I'm on my knees with my hands on the strings keeping Steven's penis separated from my face, it looks assbackwards--well, blowjobbackwards. 

"Can you stop blowing my band?!" Axl's meltdown tone on full effect and I look at him, wide eyed.

"I'm not blowing anybody!" I snap. 

"Except Duff." Slash mumbles with a little chuckle and Izzy finds humor in it as well. 

"Axl, dude, she's just helping me with my pants." Stevie defends me, raising his brows. "Besides if she was blowing me that'd be our fucking business."

"What did you just say to me?" Axl hones in on Steven, his eyes sharply narrowing, his jaw tightening. 

"I said, if she was sucking my fucking cock it would be mine and her's business--ya know, since we're both fucking grown-ass adults and you can't tell us what the fuck to do?" 

"You're in my fucking band, Steven, so yeah, actually, I believe I can tell you--"

"--Guys, don't fight." I say, standing up and crossing my arms. 

"--You can't tell me shit!" Steven outbursts. "Just like you can't tell Duff shit! He's a big boy and Viv's a big girl--what goes on between them doesn't concern any of us, especially not you." Steven pushes me out ot the way so he can stand nearly chest with chest with Axl. 

"Axl, Stevie, c'mon, now." Duff says, gently pulling me behind him as he steps to the guys, slowly urging them apart. 

"It does concern me because it's affecting Guns N' Roses." Axl hisses. 

"You act like she's fucking everything up, Axl! Just because he was late for one fucking rehearsal--"

"--A studio session, soundcheck, and, one fucking rehearsal." The red head snaps and I look at Duff, confused.

I didn't know he missed a studio session and soundcheck for me at one point...the look on Duff's face says that Axl was supposed to keep quiet about the studio session mishap and soundcheck.

He looks pissed.

"And I said it wouldn't happen again." Duff cuts in.

"Why can't you just back off?" I ask next without another thought.

"Because you spreading your legs is fucking up my band, Yoko!" Axl doesn't hesitate, and Steven's shoving at his shoulders, sending him shuffling back, catching himself on the closed door.

Just as Axl goes to get back at Steven, Duff intervenes, holding at Axl while I get in front of Steven and face him, keeping him from taking advantage of Axl being held still. 

There's a loud knock at the door and Doc peeks his head in.

"You're on." He tells the guys, shutting the door back.

Axl shoves Duff off of him and storms out while Steven ties his pants since I fixed the laces, and huffs out a breath.

"Izzy, either straighten your fucking buddy out or I will. I've about had his shit." Stevie threatens. 

Axl and Steven butted heads more than anybody in the band did at that time. Steven couldn't stand Axl's uptight arrogance, and Axl couldn't understand Steven's nonchalance. 

I think that's why it was so easy for Axl to give up on Steven when his drug abuse got so bad--he was tired of trying to understand Steven when he was decently sober, trying to understand him putting drugs before the band would have exhausted him to the point of no return.

They just couldn't ever get in tune with one another.

[justthatamount]

Hey its me again! I need to vent but I can’t do it anywhere else!

tw; Fighting, talk about mental illness in a bad light, threatening, panic attacks, talk of mental hospitals, talk of dead naming and misgendering. cursing

Ok so I don’t remember everything about last night because someone else probably had to take over. Anyway so last night a friend of mine who we’ll call Joe cus why not? Anyway he was reaching out for support through crisis lines and stuff and our other friend Mist was helping him build up the confidence before to text someone. I joined the call and started helping as well. We then started trying to find a way to get him to a crisis center. My first thought was “Oh! my brother can probably help!” So I went and asked my brother after telling him how long it would take he turned it down. So while they where on call with a crisis line I went and asked my mom if she could help us get Joe there. She got really pissed at me and told me it was illegal and there was nothing she could do. Which was a lie because we originally told the lady on the crisis line I would be getting him there and she knew about the home situation. Beyond that in the state I live in you have to be 12 to consent to your own mental health treatment. He is older than 12 so his parents didn’t need to know. I spent roughly 5 minutes trying to convince my mom ignoring the building panic attack because of how they where talking to me. This was for a really good friend of mine I wasn’t about to back down. She told me I needed to call 911 which I refused he was on a crisis line I wasn’t about to make him do something until he was ready we where working with him not against him. 

Anyway my mom told me to go downstairs and try and convince my dad so I did. Still ignoring the building panic attack at being yelled at. I couldn’t convince my dad and now I had two people very pissed at me. They equated it to kidnapping (it was not) and that if anything happened to him while he was in our car we’d be blamed. Which makes sense but he may be a danger to himself but we weren’t calling a safe to tell on him either. He was a part of this he wouldn’t do that. Eventually I accepted they weren’t going to help and headed upstairs to sort this out and let myself have a panic attack. Then they decided to follow me (breaking all the things the mental hospital told them not to do along the way) saw me having a panic attack and blamed it on him. They started interrogating me on how I knew Joe and so I told them he was introduced to me by my friend Mist and we are all really close. 

My parents though took that as. Someone you barely know asked you to drive him to a crisis center even though hes really far away. Plus a friend from the mental hospital introduced me to someone mentally unstable? Then she insinuated mentally unstable people shouldn’t have friends. Telling me I was having this panic attack not because of them screaming at me but because my friend was being to taxing. Which was wrong I told them so but they refused to believe me because I wasn’t scared at all I was proud. I understand how terrifying getting help can be and I was happy to help him through it. Anyway I told them to leave me alone because they clearly wouldn’t help and they didn’t understand at all. My friend never asked me he needed help getting there and Mist and their family was all sick so they couldn’t do it so I offered to see what I could do. This wasn’t emotionally taxing at all until they started yelling at me.

Anyway sometime into my panic attack I was explaining what was going on to my friend. So he knew I wouldn’t be able to help as much. He understood and was really worried (because they knew we’re a system and this was my parents I could be in danger) anyway they then forced me to hang up. While I was trying to convince them my friends wheren’t bad people. Skylar was close to front and really pissed because these where his friends too. So we where getting really upset and then my mom looks at us and goes “do we need to send you back to the mental hospital?” I was like NO! I don’t need to go back! Skylar was baffled too. See I’ve been clean for 2 days which doesn’t sound like much but for us because we’re a system it’s hard to get everyone to stay clean. Our goal is 4 days right now and we’re proud of being halfway there. We don’t need to go back because we’re not at our worst point which is when you need to be there!

Anyway they forced us to hang up and go to sleep. I did as was told and they took my phone (Im on my computer right now) So then still having a panic attack I started trying to get to sleep. Venting into the air to help calm myself down. Skylar managed to take over for a few minutes and halt the panic attack before I took back over. Then my mom opened the door hearing me calm down and said “give me his adress I’m going to call the police because I feel like you aren’t telling me everything you’re still panicking therfore youre lying.” Yeah no shit sherlock it takes a bit to calm down from a panic attack what did you think? I was being completely honest because I wanted my friend to get help. Anyway Skylar started yelling at her and she told us we obviously don’t care about him if we won’t let her do this. My dad came upstairs again and asked what was going on (my mom played the victim card) and I was pissed. They both left and I spent the next hour trying not to relapse because they took all my healthy coping skills (which where on my phone like, reading fanfic, talking to my friends, music) with them so I was only left with the unhealthy ones. The only reason I didn’t is because my friends are so supportive and do so much and are healing I took that as encouragement to keep safe. By the way they misgendered and deadnamed me that entire time.

[staytiny-angel]

War of Hearts

Chapter One

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Seth Rollins/Becky Lynch

Co-written with @riottbliss

Summary: Seth Rollins was once known as the Bad Boy Prince of MMA, now years after a career ending knee injury he's stepping into.the Octagon again not as a competitor but as his little sister's coach. Unfortunately for him the redhead across the cage from he and Paige is not only woman he'd just had a one night stand with but the younger sister and protege of the Finn Balor...the man that ended Seth's career.

Warnings: MMA style violence, Alcoholism, Implied Self-Harm (DM for details), Depression, Angst with a Happy Ending

Hunter Hearst Helmsley, or professionally known by Triple-H sighed with embarrassment, reading tweet after tweet from his youngest son Seth Rollins.

"What happened to him?" His best friend and practically brother Shawn Michaels asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Cody took him out of the press conference, Seth's hungover, blaming everyone but himself"

Shawn shook his head, "Kid is letting the hype go to his brain. He's all over TMZ, The Bad Boy Prince of MMA is what they call him"

"Seth is the best fighter in the world in his division. He's earned the cockiness but his lifestyle…." Hunter shook his head

Shawn made a disgusted sound. "Kid reminds me of me before I got my act together"

"Fatherhood is what made you get your act together. That won't work for Seth" Hunter clicked on a video of his drunken son yelling into a camera about Finn Balor that had gone viral last week.

"He talks so much shit about Balor being a low rent MacGregor, hell Seth acts more like Conor then Finn does."

Hunter sighed "He's turned this into a complete mess, I wouldn't be surprised if his team drops him."

"Hey, Dusty loved that kid, Dustin and Cody wouldn't release him until he stopped making them money"

Hunter nodded but looked nonetheless unthrilled.

"He keeps making excuses about everything. I'm this close to calling Steph"

Shawn nodded with agreement as the two entered Seth's penthouse, greeting a tired looking Cody Rhodes. "I can't do this anymore Hunter" he said in place of a normal greeting.

"You are not dropping him" Hunter said matter of factly.

"AEF is supposed to be for fighters that respect the sport, he fucks around and doesn't even show up to the gym" Cody said.

Hunter ignored him and went upstairs to where he could hear his youngest groaning in misery.

Hunter sighed as Seth looked up from the toilet he was practically hugging. "I'm twenty five, perfectly legal" he muttered, Hunter's gaze looking at the black and gold championship that laid discarded.

"While ago you would have treated that with respect" He said, Seth rolling his eyes. "Would you rather me puke on it? It's just a fucking belt' "

"Don't let anyone hear you say that" Hunter said lowly. "You're going to the weigh in today even if I have to drag you by your hair there myself"

"No the fuck I'm not, don't you see me dyin' here?" Seth whined "I'm going to fucking sleep"

"What the fuck happened to you?!" Hunter yells "Every since your Uncle Shane became your manager this is what you've turned into."

Seth looked unfazed. "Don't get angry because I'm better than you ever were" and shoved his father out of his way, flipping off Cody, and ignoring Shawn.

"What am I going to do with him?" Hunter sighed, exhausted.

"Knock his ass out?" Shawn suggested. "I'll take care of him" Cody rolled his eyes. "Britt and I will make sure he gets to the weigh in. I just need painkillers and food"

"I'm gonna go talk to Shane, I want to know what kind of garbage he's been filling my kid's head with" Hunter mutters

"I told you listening to Vince was a mistake." Shawn replies shaking his head "All of you let Vince snow you into thinking it was embarrassing that his mother managed him"

Hunter sighed. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to drag Steph back, Shane has a tight grip on him"

"Worry about that fuckface later" Shawn said. "Seth needs you, not him" Hunter nodded firmly, making his way downstairs to see Seth passed out on his couch, his dog Kevin and cat Daryl laying on him.

"This was our compromise" Cody explained. "I let him take a nap, he goes to the weigh in later"

"He isn't going to beat Balor in this condition. He doesn't spar anymore and his knee has been inflamed for weeks" Britt says quietly

"He shouldn't even be fighting. We told Shane but he says there's too much money at stake for Seth to pull out"

"Money money money"' Shawn mocked. "All he cares about is fucking printed paper"

Hunter ignored them and instead chose to brush back some of Seth's hair, his son unconsiously responding to it. "What did I do wrong raising him?" he asked. Hunter rolls his eyes at the look his older brother gave him "The truth" he says quietly

"No offense bro, but this family is a whole fucking lot to live up to and you weren't exactly shy about your expectations once Seth showed an aptitude for the sport. None of us were. I have to even ask myself, when was the last time any of us actually had a conversation with the kid that wasn't about fighting?"

"He's cracking underneath the pressure" Cody chimes in

"Yeah, he is and now Shane is filling his head with all these ideas about the image he should project" Shawn continues "Quiet guys who, play with their dogs and write poetry when their not in the Octagon don't sell tickets, but Bad Boys sure the fuck do."

*Later*

Seth scowled at his phone as Britt ushered him into the arena the weigh was taking place in. "I'm assuming you told the press he was gonna bail?" Cody growled at Shane who held his hands up. "They were gonna find out sooner or later" "Yeah yeah, no press is bad press" Seth said.

"Except the press says you're an asshole" Cody deadpanned. "Don't do anything stupid up there, or Mark is going to have a stroke" Seth didn't respond, instead heading up the stairs to the stage, where Balor had clearly made weight, despite being skinny. Seth took off his shirt per usual, standing on the scale.

"197 pounds" The announcer said, Seth smirking at Balor. The Irish man looked unfazed and rolled his eyes. Seth, in a act of annoyance, promptly flipped him off, hearing everyone in the crowd either laugh or groan

-Backstage -

"Gonna be fun beating your ass Balor, I promise not to hurt you too badly," Seth says cockily, slouching in a chair and putting his sunglasses back on.

"Oh, Rolly its almost time to give up your precious" Finn responds, "Clock is ticking boyo and your time is almost up"

"Mon roi, nous devons-oh shit" a pake woman walked up, speaking rapid French and stopping in her place when she saw Seth.

"Hey Seth" she said coldly.

"Vi" Seth responded, his attitude gone.

"He your king now?" "Surprised you even remember any French, from what I read, you've drank yourself through everything"

"It's what happens when you give your heart to someone and get it ripped in half, I wasn't enough for you, that's what you said right? I wasn't straight enough for you?! So you threw my ring in my face and left" Seth yelled "Cause Bisexual people, we're all cheaters didn't you know?"

At least according to Violet Gillath, wait I'm sorry Violet Balor now isn't it?."

"Stop it" Finn growled. "Before I knock your ass out now"

"Try it bitch" Seth snarled back.

Violet got between them and shoved Seth back. "Chaton, stop" she hissed.

Seth stumbled upon hearing his old nickname. "Why?" he choked out. "What did I do?"

Seth shook his head as if to shake his thoughts into place "Why Violet? Why did you leave me? You...you fucking broke me" he said in a small voice "I have the right to know why, just tell me. Why would you do that after everything. I was going to quit fighting for you because you didn't like seeing what it was turning me into. You get up on stage and you still sing my songs, but you said you hated me. I just wanna know."

Violet crossed her arms and closed her eyes. "I didn't want to be with you. You never signed anything so legally those songs are mine. I said what I meant, you weren't enough"

Seth looked like she had rebroken his heart.

Thankfully Britt walked in. "Hey, we gotta go"

Seth grabbed his title and held it to Finn. "This is mine. You can keep that bitch but you will never get this"

-Backstage-

"I've never known you to be biphobic, wanna explain to me why Rollins is convinced you are?" Finn said sitting down in his locker room with his wife a few minutes later.

"His uncle...manager, that bastard Shane got me my record deal in exchange for breaking Seth's heart" Violet told her husband "Seth hates fighting, he was going to quit and go on the road with me. He can't sing a note but he writes and plays guitar. We were going to be a duo. Shane was watching his cash cow walk out the door. So he threatened me and made an offer. Seth was the sweetest thing and he loved me and I broke his heart and let Shane turn him into that"

"If I could go back in time and slap him across the face I would but I can't" Violet said brokenly. "Shane has made it perfectly clear that if I ever tell him that he would ruin both our careers"

Finn hugged her to him. "I'm still gonna kick his ass" Violet slapped his arm. "Please try not to" Finn shrugged. "I'm undefeated"

"You know Seth is too. And the thing with being undefeated is that there's only one way down, being kicked off the mountain"

-Next Day-

Seth was throwing up again having had drank himself to sleep following his encounter with his ex.

Cody looked extremely tired and Britt concerned. "You have to fight in an hour!" Cody yelled out

"I don't fucking care." Seth yelled back "I don't even want to fucking fight." He muttered to himself, as he rubbed at his knee. "Come on fucking give already." He whispered to the inflamed appendage.

He knew what he was doing was dangerous but it was his only way out. If his knee would just give up the fucking ghost, he could quit this bullshit once and for all.

"Your sisters are out there tonight" Britt said, walking in, holding a brace.

"I really don't care" Seth growled, letting Britt put his knee in it.

"And your mom' Britt added. Seth took a breath when Britt touched his knee.

"Holy shit, it feels like its burning"

We're letting you go after tonight" Cody said angrily. "I don't care if you win or not, you've ruined All Elite Fighting's reputation"

"I don't care, I never wanted to be in your shitty gym anyway" Seth shrugged. "I'm going to get changed"

[alaina-achilles]

i

((practice challenge - all prompts included here:))

Dreams.

Dreams are a funny thing, right? As a kid, you have so many dreams, I’m gonna be this when I grow up, I’m gonna wear this when this happens…

But how many do those actually happen?

I always feel like I dream differently than other people. Well, not all dreams, but some particular ones. And when I have a dream that I feel so strongly about (usually they are things that I actually dreamed about during my sleep), I write it down, in my dreams notebook. And well, there were so many of them.

Okay, I’m getting distracted again. So, right now, I’m standing in the middle of my bedroom, screaming.

Because I have just graduated from college and I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with. My. life!!

“Alaina?” Mila, my younger sister asks as she runs into my room and jumps onto my bed. “What happened? Who broke up?”

“The prince and Evie.” Another voice says and we both turn around to face our older sister.

“That’s old news, Lexi.” Mila drawls. “The Selection’s here already. Remind me again why aren’t you guys applying?”

Lexi rolls her eyes and pushes Mila to make space for herself on my bed.

“Well, back to the drama queen here. What happened?” Lexi asks, looking at me in confusion. Mila follows her gaze before they drop to the sheets of paper on my desk.

“What are those?” Mila asks in curiosity. She makes a move to take one of them, but I beat her to it by shoving them all into a messy pile.

“That.” I say as I shove them into a folder and slip it in between two books. “Is private.”

Well, they are actually job applications. I got a bit impulsive just now and flipped through my notebook of dreams, randomly selecting a few dreams, printed out the job application forms and filled them in.

“It’s not important.” I add as I see my sisters looking at me with narrowed eyes. “They were just weird random stuff that I did which I should’ve never done and I will throw them away tomorrow afternoon.”

“You can always be a teacher.” Lexi comments, knowing what I’m stressing about. “Mom likes her job a lot.”

“But I’m not Mom.” I point out as I flop onto the bed next to them. “I mean I love kids, but I just… I just can’t see myself being a teacher. Nor a lawyer like you.”

“I’m gonna be a psychologist. A therapist. A something related to psychology.” Mila replies happily. Sometimes I wish I was 13 as well. She turns around to face me. “And as a future psychologist, I think you should give writer another try. I mean you have published a book!!”

“But it’s not a best-seller. It’s only popular because it’s about a cliche bad boy story that many teenage girls like reading about.”

“That’s not true. I think there’s a lot of potential in your writing. You just need to have inspiration, write a good book and be famous.” Mila finishes with a smile.

“I think Mila’s got a point there. Just give it a go. One year. And if you aren’t writing a best-selling novel at the end of the year, just become a psychologist like Mila will be. You have the bachelor degree.” Lexi points out. I think about what my sisters said and decide they are right.

I’m gonna give writing another try.

----

“ALAINA LEXI MOM DAD COME NOW!” I hear Mila screaming from the bottom of the stairs. I put down my book in annoyance and go downstairs.

“What is it, honey?” Mom asks.

“THEY’RE GONNA ANNOUNCE THE SELECTION RESULTS!!!” Mila all but screams.

“Oooooh!” I cry. “I do wanna watch this! Dramaaa” I sing.

“I don’t know why you two are so excited for this! It’s not like any of us entered our name.” Lexi drawls, but sits down next to us on the couch while our parents sit down as well with an amused smile.

“I know many girls who did. I would like to see who’s gonna be on the tv screen for the next few months.” I explain, without looking away from the tv screen. The TV zooms to a closed up of the Prince who has a relaxed smile on his face that does not really reach his eyes. I don’t blame the guy though, it must be rough for him to jump from a supposedly stable relationship to well, 35 girls. Definitely glad I’m not the prince.

“Maybe it’ll be Delilah. She’s pretty and nice.” I comment.

“Or Faye. She’ll be quite the drama queen.” Lexi says.

“SHUSH!” Mila hisses. Lexi and I roll our eyes at each other and turn back to the screen.

“Miss Alaina Achilles of Atlin, Three.” The reporter announces.

Alain-

WAIT WHAT??

I vaguely hear my family screaming and questioning me, but I can’t hear anything except my heartbeat as I run into my room to check the folder that I meant to throw away a few afternoons ago but forgot.

It’s gone.

And then I scream.

Because, one of my dreams I made when I was six was to be in the Selection, to be a princess. And I thought it’d be fun to fill in the application a few days ago. BUT I NEVER MEANT TO SEND IT.

Then my eyes widen as I realize what must have happened.

“CAMILA DAISY ADRIANNA ACHILLES. I’M GOING TO STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH!” I yell as I run downstairs to kill my younger sister.

----

Four hours later. I’ve finally stopped screaming and attempting to murder my sister.

“How did you even do that, Mil? I thought you had to have your photo taken and everything?” Dad asks.

“Um… I kinda wrote a letter saying that Alaina isn’t feeling well and can’t make it to the applications and sent in a photo instead.” Mila explains in a small voice. “I swear I didn’t know they would allow that…”

“Wait…” I say suddenly. “If you sent out my application. SHIT MILA DID YOU SEND OUT ALL OF THOSE APPLICATIONS I FILLED OUT?”

“Language!” Mom cries but we all ignore her. It’s not like I ever swear anyways.

“Yeah… All six of them.” Mila admits in a quiet voice.

“AND THIS GETS EVEN BETTER!” I yell, throwing my arms into the air. “Do you know what those applications are? As an elf writing letters back to children for Santa Claus, and… and.. And… I don’t even want to rename the applications i filled out for. They were all crazy.” I mumble to myself. “Maybe the Selection is already the least craziest one.”

“See?” Mila says gleefully.

“Oh shut up, you little- I can’t even find any words to describe you. I’m not talking to you.” I yell in anger. With that I storm up the stairs into my room.

Oh no.

What has my little sister got me into?

----

By the time I am to leave Atlin, I am feeling slightly better about this whole thing. Thanks to Lexi and Dad. They convinced me that this will be a nice and unique experience and a change of scenery will probably give me more inspiration for my writing. And I finally get to be on a plane! I’ve never been on the plane before, not because we can’t afford it, but Mom has an extreme fear of flights. We usually went travelling in other means of transport.

My heart is pounding in my ears as I climb the stairs up to the plane. This is it. I’m going to be on a plane!

"Sorry if I'm bothering you, but I'm Sara Nguyen. I hope we can be plane buddies? And who knows maybe a permanent bud for the rest of the selection?" A voice says, interrupting my thoughts. I look up to see a girl smiling at me. She motions at my luggage. "Would you like a hand?"

My eyes widen as I realize she must be another selected. Wow, this is really happening, I’m really in the Selection. I quickly collect my thoughts and straighten my clothes to make sure it’s tidy. My parents have always taught us to be clean and tidy, especially in front of strangers.

“hi Sara! I’m Alaina Achilles! Sure I would love to!” I say to Sara with a bright smile. “and thanks for offering, but I think I got this!” I place the luggage to its place and sit down next to the empty spot next to Sara. I look at the two girls opposite to us, one is falling asleep and the other barely acknowledges us. Well, I guess not every Selected is nice. So I turn to Sara instead, she seems nice. “Have you ever been on a plane before?”

She tells me about the times she’s travelled and when she learns that this is my first time, she surprises me again by offering her hand for me to squeeze.

“I-“ l begin as I look at Sara’s hand hesitantly. “I mean thats very nice of you bu-“ the plane starts to move and my eyes start to widen and immediately reach forward to squeeze Sara’s hand. She is nice enough to pretend not to see my hesitation and just let me hold her hand while she talks me through the take off. I like this girl. I decide.

“Thanks. But you’re right, I’m glad I got on this plane! At least now I have a new friend?” I ask. I have never been alone without at least one of my sisters with me before and I know I will miss them very much.

"Just holler my name and I'll be there for anything. I've got tips for most things. If not I'll create one on the spot." Sara answers with a nod. I do a happy dance internally. "I think we are indeed friends. After all it would be rather awkward if two strangers held hands. Either way I'm glad we both get to be on the same flight." She proceeds to tell me about her favorite things about being on a plane and I look out the window and agree with her. The view is amazing! We chat more about the flying experience and being the writer I was, I tell her how lovely it’ll be to be able to write about this experience. My new friend immediately offers me her notebook, but I once again decline politely. I know once I start writing, I’ll ignore everything around me and I don’t want to do this to Sara and miss the opportunity to get to know her. So I just tell her that I’ll do it later and enjoy the moment now.

Sara asks me if I’ve ever written anything that she might’ve read. I hesitate as I thought of my published book. A few years ago, at 16, I wrote a cliche bad boy story named “the Bad Boy Ruined my Project” and published it online. Because it’s cliche and about bad boys, teenage girls immediately took a liking to it and two years later, I got a publishing offer. I was ecstatic and accepted it. Ever since then, my agent has been pushing me to write a new book. And that’s when it became complicated. I was 16 when I wrote that cliche book and at 18, I’ve matured and changed and honestly, my book wasn’t that well-written, it just suited the taste of what teenage girls wanted to read. I’ve tried telling this to my agent and she kept telling me that was bullshit and if I wanted to be a famous writer, I had to please my readers. This is one of the reasons why I decided to start thinking of pursuing another character. I want to write things that I want to write, not just things people want me to write about.

But at the end of the day, I am grateful for my book and its success. At least it got me noticed.

So I tell her about my published book and she tells me about her career. Sara is to take over her dad’s company. Sensing this isn’t her favorite topic to talk about, I change the topic and ask her about siblings.

We quickly get into a fun conversation about siblings and I can already tell we’re going to be the best of friends in the Selection. Hopefully.

And for a while, I feel like I’m home again as we laugh and joke about the Selection. About how dramatic it will be with 35 girls under the same roof, going after the prince. About how weird it will be to have a brother joining the selection! (Sara said her brother almost joined HAHA). We are enjoying our conversation so much that I don’t even notice we have landed.

"We're here," Sara breathes out as we both look out the window. I smile as I take in the surroundings around me. I’ve been here before during a long road trip, but the airport is totally new to me.

“It’s beautiful!” I exclaim. Then, I turn to face Sara and put out a pinky. “Okay before we get off, let’s make a pact. Let’s promise to let this selection ruin our budding friendship.”

"It honestly is. Last time I came here I was 13 years old." Sara replies with a shake of her head. She  looks at me and smiles as she sticks her pinky out and links it with mine. "I promise that this selection will not ruin our friendship. You know you can call me by any nickname. I prefer them rather than Sara. My family call me bun."

And she manages to surprise me for the third time. Wow, a nickname. I can tell it’s not something she goes around letting people use.

I laugh and give her a hug. “Bun.” I say. “I love that. it’s so cute and so you!” We break away when one of the other girls clears her throat and tell us it’s time to go. I smile embarrassingly and roll my eyes at my new friend as we begin our journey to the palace. And because of Sara, I already feel a hundred times better about the selection. If all goes wrong, I know at least there will be one genuine friend who will go through all of this with me together.

"This is reserved for you. It's strange if someone else calls me that. So welcome to the Bun club." She says with a straight face but that didn't last long because she ends up giggling. She shakes her head as the other girls hurry us. "Well, let's see what is awaiting us." She smiles encouragingly at me.

I laugh at her words and nod. “Honored to be in the club.” I look at the other girls amusedly, as they check their makeup. “Let’s see!” I say as I pull my new friend along with me.

Sara nods as she links arms with me humming happily as we both get off the plane. "By any chance can I call you Al?" She pauses as she thinks about other nicknames. "Or Lai? Or Achi! Or do you already have a nickname you are comfortable with?”

I cock my head to the side and think about her question. I don’t really have a cute nickname or anything like hers.

“My sisters call me A.” I say with a giggle. “But Achi sounds so cool as well! Just call me either!” I add, like the sound of Achi.

"I'll call you, Achi then!" She replies with a grin. "It's my own personal nickname.”

“Achi.” I repeat quietly with a smile as I follow the guards escorting us.

Bun and Achi.

I like this combo.

----

Sara and I enter the palace together where we are immediately ushered into a huge room. People keep pushing me from stall to stall, asking me questions, but answering those questions themselves before I can even think of an answer. Luckily, they didn’t need to do too much to my hair and body as Mom always makes sure we are well um groomed. I only got my nails painted and fitted into a red dress. I’ve never seen myself as a red person, I’m usually more of baby pink, purple, white and dark colors. But I have to admit the red dress looks amazing.

I then proceeded to have an interview where I told them a bit about myself and then my makeover.

By the time, I finish the interview, I am so tired that all I want to do is go back to my room and read or talk to my sisters.

Oh wait, I’m still mad at Mila.

Oops.

====

((THANKS @itssara-oc​ ANA FOR THE WONDERFUL RP ♡ i love the connection between our two girls:))

[kunrendeotaku]

Chapter 7

My max level cleaning and organization skills have my room once again returned to normal within only a few hours. Everything in its place, other than the fragile collectibles I had a small tear filled funeral for. I flop back onto my bed and let finally relax, the exhaustion of the very, very busy day getting to me. Still, one last check. I glance around and see all of my many knitted rugs from grandma covering basically every surface, my sturdy wood desk and dresser in their respective corners, my blessedly undamaged laptop sitting on my desk, my inspirational karate posters on the walls, my newly cracked television, and finally my thin, pale blue silk pajamas-currently on my body.

I nod to myself, satisfied with the final check, and slide under my wonderfully soft brown comforter. As soon as I close my eyes, I….do not manage to fall asleep. I feel a powerful thwack as a heavy object lands on my stomach, and my eyes bug out as they fly open. “Marco!” God, will my ears ever get used to that shrill scream? I really need to teach Star about inside voices. As you might expect, I find a blonde who looks like she’s just chugged three cups of espresso sitting on my stomach, bouncing up and down with an excited expression. “How can you be trying to sleep?! We’re having our first sleepover!”

Sleep grumpiness gets to me more than anything, and I grab the edge of my comforter. As the heavy girl tilts her head, I snap the brown comforter and toss her off of my bed with a hmph. She waves her arms wildly to try to catch her balance rather than falling flat on her face, and somehow manages to land on her feet. “Safe.” I take this time to finally appreciate what the girl is wearing, and see that Star also enjoys a shade of blue for her sleepwear. Darker than mine, and made of a lighter variant of the weird almost silk all of her clothes are made of, the blue nightdress has a half moon on the front. Below that, she’s traded out her leggings for thick striped socks.

The glance at her feet reminds me of our earlier shower adventure, and I blush for a moment. The embarrassment at least wakes me up enough to consider a conversation with her, and I grumble out “We’re literally living together. This does -not- count as a sleepover. Also, I’m exhausted. Can we do this tomorrow?” I’ve sat up in my comfy bed by this point, but by the end of my last sentence I can feel my eyelids rebelliously attempting to close. Star seems unwilling to allow me any amount of rest when fun can be had, however, and raises up her wand to point it at me.

“Shining Sugar Ru-” My hand snaps up to cover the front of her glowing wand just as the pink beam is almost finished charging, and I say “Nope. None of that.” I didn’t quite realize exactly how bad of an idea this was in my sleep deprived state, and later I couldn’t repeat this particular feat (no matter how much I wanted to) but apparently sleepy Marco couldn’t give two shits about how things should work. I flop back onto the pillow and begin snoring almost immediately while Star stares dumbfounded at the wand which had obediently stopped its spell cold.

The next thing I know, its Saturday morning at 6 am and I’m wide awake. I wish I could find it in myself to be annoyed at my inability to sleep in, but I have a confession to make-I’m a morning person, through and through. Just seeing the sun just past sunrise puts a massive smile on my face, and I find myself humming happily while dressing for the day. I head downstairs as soon as I’m in my standard hoodie with black jeans combo, and find my parents already hard at work in the kitchen. “Getting Star’s welcome cake ready?”

“Oh, yes Mijo! We’re currently wondering how much sugar is too much. She’s already quite the hyper girl, yes?” I snort at that. “She’ll be herself regardless, just put the normal stuff in. I wonder if she’s allergic to anything? Hey Mom, Star had, uh, a chat with you last night right?” The awkwardness of the question pierces through my early morning cheer only slightly, and seems unable to affect my parents at all. My mother answers “Yes, yes, she’s… got a lot to learn! But I think I passed on the basic girl to girl stuff.” She gives me a wink, then waves towards the living room. “Go put up the sign! We can’t have her first morning here be any less than wonderful! You know how homesick exchange students can get.”

I simply nod, glad that my parents share my morning person tendencies. We’ve long gotten into a habit where we throw a celebration for exchange students the morning after they move in-most of the time they can make it through the night on sheer excitement, but a lot feel worried when they wake up in a new place. I think if our tradition helps them feel at home, if only slightly. A few minutes later I have our balloons set up, along with the sign saying “Happy First Day on Earth, Star!”. With that, preparations are almost complete, and I begin thinking about my personal plans for the day.

I’ll likely be paired with Star throughout it all. She’s the target of those monsters, after all! So, first there will be a trip over to the school to pick up my bike, then I can show her around the town. Pick up some lunch at McDonalds (She’s sure to love that), then swing by Ferguson’s place to introduce her. Alfonso pretty much lives there, so she should meet with him too. I pull out my personal notepad and click a pen to start scheduling each thing down to the half hour, even knowing that considering my travel partner for the day -some- sort of chaos will happen and knock us off course.

By the time I finish, I see a sleepy looking Star still in her nightwear walking down the stairs, and I call my parents over quickly. We stand under the sign, cake lit with only a single candle, and yell out “Welcome Home!” Star jumps nearly a foot in the air, scrambling to aim her wand at us before letting out a gasp. Her eyes widen and she jumps again, this time with an excited squee. The energetic ball of fun rolls over the rail and begins dashing towards us, her stomping feet waking up the sleeping puppies who start a storm of yips and laser beams.

“Gimme gimme gimme gimme!” Star flexes her hands as she fidgets in place, only having eyes for the cake. My family and I share a somewhat bemused look, before my father hands it over. Our new foreign exchange student immediately smashes her face into the icing, to the mild horror of my parents. “I spent half an hour drawing her face on that.” My father’s voice trembles, but he manages a shaky smile when Star finally comes back up for air. “Its sho good! Thanksh for the cake!”

I find myself wondering if she can even taste what flavor it is by the way she’s inhaling it down, but before I can ask her she starts running back up the stairs with the half eaten cake. We never saw the plate we had handed it to her on after that-I personally think she stashed the whole thing in her secrets closet as a memento, though such realizations happened much later in our story. As soon as the blonde force of mayhem is out of sigh, my father flops onto the couch with a sigh. “Come on now Rafael, at least she was clearly happy, right? I mean, I think.” My mother pats his burly shoulder in an attempt to convince him that his work wasn’t in vain, though I find myself thinking she may have reacted the same had we given her a blank vanilla cake with bland icing. Star just seems easily excited by things.

My father has mostly recovered by the time Star skips back down the stairs. Fully dressed and with a newly clean face that only smells slightly of icing, she appears ready to take on the world. “Hey, I’m gonna take Star out to see the town. See you around dinner.” My parents wave back, their exuberance almost at normal levels. We all have some things to get used to. “Alright Mijo, have fun!” Star snags my arm and drags me out onto the street, nearly vibrating in place with her readiness to do things. “What’re we gonna do first?! Go dancing? Start a party? Head to your marketplace for some SHOPPING?!”

Ignoring her slightly odd terminology, I peel her hands off of my arm and inform her “We’re going back to school.” The crumpling of her happiness and the sad faces that pop up on her cheeks make me far more entertained than is probably healthy.

[yesloverboy]

Neighborly (mgk!Tommy Lee x Reader) Part 5

SUMMARY: Desperate to explain himself, Tommy runs out of the party to find you after drunkenly kissing a groupie– despite his claims that he’s in love with you. Realizing he completely fucked up, Tommy vows to do whatever it takes to make it up to you and prove that he really means what he says. Something tells you it’s going to take a lot of convincing, but how far is he really willing to go?

word count: 4,327

[Warnings: swearing, body image, little bit of angst, a lot of fluffy goodness, drug and alcohol mention/usage.]

NOTE: Sorry for the big ass delay on this chapter, I started a full time internship and haven’t had a lot of time to myself lately. That being said I do have some stuff planned, so hopefully writing the next few parts won’t be nearly as difficult. There’s even a smut chapter coming (fairly) soon, so don’t worry Reader and Tommy will most definitely fuck. Cross my heart.  

tags: @kwyloz, @scarecrowmax, @lavendersoundbarrier, @stevenandsam, @totallynotkaibiased, @rogertaylur, @fatheadtheroger, @secretly-a-groupie, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @abbysdogcollar, @dirtysixxers, @black-tights-black-heart, @valentines-in-london, @colsonbakersnoseringmain, @hxllywood-whxre, @ccidk, @sharon6713, @myshakespeareandarling, @moon-beame, @carmineharry

 You manage to sprint up to your apartment before Tommy is able to catch up with you. A chorus of yelling and screaming can still be heard from downstairs, but it seems more aggressive than before. Deciding whatever’s happening is officially none of your concern anymore, you rush into the safety of your apartment. The door slams behind you with a heavy thud, causing the brittle walls to shake and echo in its wake.  

 With your back against the door, you find yourself unable to move. The events of tonight keep replaying in your head– from Tommy kissing you at your dining table to watching him become colored pink by some other girl’s lipstick. All the memories were meshing and molding together, burning a hole in your mind like a bad reel of film.

 Your ruminating thoughts are promptly interrupted by a harsh knock on the door behind you. For the first time since you moved in, you spin around and secure the door chain, preventing anyone from fully entering the apartment.

 “Y/N, it’s me! Open up!”

 You say nothing, stupidly hoping that Tommy will get the hint and continue the rest of his evening downstairs. Instead, he only pounds on the door harder, making you worried it may very well fall off the hinges.

 “I know I fucked up! Will you please just open the door so we can talk?!”

 Tommy tries opening the door this time, but the door chain catches the movement, only allowing it to open about four inches at most. Through the crack in the frame, you can see a sliver of Tommy’s washed out expression as he gazes at you with wide eyes.  

 “Y/N, what the fuck is this?” Tommy gestures to the chain fastened firmly in place, his face fraught with worry.

 “I have nothing to say to you,” your voice shakes as tears threaten to leak out once again. Gritting your teeth, you avert your eyes to the floor, unable to look at Tommy without trembling.

 “But, Y/N I love–”

 “Don’t,” you interrupt, finding that Tommy wanting to admit his supposed love for you after what happened was the final straw. “You don’t get to say that.”

 Summoning your courage, you take a few steps toward the door. Tommy watches you with glassy eyes, looking more like a kicked puppy than the party animal you witnessed downstairs. Sometimes it’s hard to believe they’re the same person.

 “Please Tommy, just leave.”

 Tommy bites his lip, and you know his leg is bouncing nervously by the way his shoulders involuntarily rock back and forth. “I-I can’t. I won’t.”

 With a heavy sigh you go to push the door the rest of the way closed. Surprisingly, Tommy doesn’t resist and allows it to slam in his face, eyes remaining fixed on the ground.

 For the first time since that morning, you’re finally able to breathe. You’re proud of yourself for being able to deny Tommy’s effort of engaging in damage control but, for some reason, it still doesn’t feel very good. The music from the party downstairs reverberates against the old floorboards, reminding you of the growing pit in your stomach.

 Deep within, you knew going to the show wasn’t a good idea, but Tommy’s deep blue eyes and gentle touch brought something out of you that you didn’t recognize. Now here you are, confused and hurt at the hands of your crazy neighbor who claims to already be in love with you. You thoughts wander back through visions of Tommy kissing the brunette downstairs, causing you to reflexively clench your jaw.

     I deserve this, don’t I?

 Feeling exhausted, emotionally and physically, you decide it’s best if you just turn in for the night. Trudging into your bedroom, you immediately shed Tommy’s jacket. It falls to a sad heap on the floor, coiling up in the corner of the room like a poisonous snake. Although the sight of it inherently sickens you, you still recall the way Tommy’s goofy smile and contagious laugh had lit up your apartment for the past week.

 In an attempt to drown out your thoughts and some of the party below, you switch on the radio and tune it to the oldies station, hoping that the white noise will be relaxing. You yank off your jeans and switch off the light, not bothering to wash your face or change into pyjamas. Nothing seems more important than allowing the softness of Ella Fitzgerald’s gentle croon lull you to sleep.

 You close your eyes, trying to cleanse your thoughts of all the stress and anxiety from the past few hours. Still, you dream of lipstick coated kisses and endless, blue eyes.

     I’ll be seeing you.

...

That morning, you allow yourself to sleep in, awakening only when the sun is just about to dip into early afternoon. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you look up at the cactus bathing in the sunshine on your windowsill. It’s standing taller in its jar than when Tommy left it for you. With a bitter scoff, you kick off the covers and exchange last night’s halter top for an oversized t-shirt. 

 Although you didn’t get wasted last night, your steady consumption of beer on a near empty stomach left you with a throbbing headache and a sour taste in your mouth. You try to busy yourself by starting a pot of coffee and jumping in the shower. No matter how hard you scrub, it seems you can’t get the scent of Tommy’s cigarettes and cologne off of your skin. If last night were a phantom, it would surely be haunting you. 

 By the time you’re able to get a sip of coffee, the entire apartment is hot and sticky with shower steam. Feeling hyper-aware of your raw skin and heavy eyelids, you decide now is a perfect time to make use of the balcony. Maybe getting some fresh air would even be good for you. 

 You remain in just your old t-shirt and a pair of underwear, permitting your hair to drip freely onto the floor. Typically you’d feel more inclined to cover up, but it seems you have much bigger problems than your idiot neighbors. Even if one of them was the biggest problem of all. 

 Coffee mug in hand, you unlatch the chain and pull open the door. As you go to step outside, you foot caches on a soft object blocking your way. What the fuck? Looking down you discover a long, lanky body curled into itself on your welcome mat. 

 “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter, recognizing the tangle of limbs and brown curls as none other than Tommy fucking Lee.

 Tommy stirs at the sound of your voice, stretching out and rolling onto his back. You hesitantly nudge his arm with your foot, trying to shake him awake before he has time to process where he’s at. If you were being honest, Tommy was the last person you wanted to see. You assume he must have been a lot more fucked up last night than you thought, judging by the fact that he’s presently passed out on your doorstep.

 “Tommy,” you whisper harshly, wanting so desperately for him to get up and go away, “Tommy get the fuck up!”

 “Hmmm?” he hums in confusion, his saltwater blue eyes squinting against the invasive rays of sunlight. Tommy’s eyes meet yours, and you try to ignore the little flutter of hope your heart feels when his face lights up with recognition.

 Tommy pulls himself up on his feet, jutting upwards as if awakening from a dream. You take a step back, afraid he may lose his balance and collapse on top of you.

 Noticing you recoiling away, Tommy grabs ahold of your shoulder with a firm hand. You scowl as coffee sloshes out of the cup and lands on your bare feet, stinging your toes.

 “Wait! Don’t go yet– please don’t go yet, I have to talk to you–I have to explain,” Tommy’s words come out in an incoherent babble, “I waited all–all fucking night, just like I said and I, uh, can you please just let me come in?”

 You mouth falls open in utter astonishment as your weary brain puts the pieces together. Tommy didn’t pass out, he slept on your doorstep in the hopes that you would eventually open the door. Technically, he succeeded.

 Tommy doesn’t wait for your answer, and instead continues to plead with you, eyes bloodshot from exhaustion, “I couldn’t leave, I didn’t want to.”

 Sighing, you step aside and open the door all the way, wordlessly inviting him inside like you had in the past. You hate yourself for empathizing with his dark circles and broken posture from sleeping on the ground, but figure it very well may have been punishment enough.

 Tommy makes a beeline for your tiny sofa, flopping on it so forcefully that you fear it might snap in half. With his head hanging limply off the arm of the sofa, he buries his face in his hands and groans up at the ceiling in relief.

 “No offense, Y/N, but that welcome mat of yours fucking sucks.”

 You abandon your coffee mug by the sink, deciding you don’t have the patience to reheat it, and perch on the opposite arm where Tommy’s feet are resting.

  “That’s because it’s a welcome mat, not a please sleep on me when you’re being an asshole mat,” you retort, still unable to rid your voice of its residual bitterness from the night before.

 “I know, you’re right,” Tommy sits up straight, hugging his impossibly long legs to his chest, “But I had to see you.” 

 “Why?”

 “Because I–well, you know what I’m trying to say,” he picks at his shoelaces absentmindedly, cheeks pink with something that resembles embarrassment.

 You sigh running a hand through your hair, “You know I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Tommy.”

 “Look, I know I royally fucked up, but I just don’t know how to do this,” he gestures between the two of you as if there’s some kind of tangible force holding you both together. You swallow hard, wondering if maybe there is.

 “There is no this, Tommy. It’s obvious that there never was,” you can’t help how harsh you sound as the ghost of self-doubt starts to creep into your head, making you wonder if Tommy ever genuinely liked you to begin with.

 “God, but I want there to be. I want this to be something so bad, you don’t even understand.”

 I do, you think, wanting nothing more than to just shout it at him and end the conversation. You decide that you can’t, choosing now to guard your heart better than before. “I’m just not sure I believe you,” you answer honestly, voice barely louder than a whisper.

 Tommy leans forward and grasps both of your hands in his, the sudden touch causing your skin to prickle with goosebumps. His hands are warm and secure against your own, fitting together just as comfortably as your lips had when he kissed you.

 “Hey, Y/N, look at me. Please.”

 You comply, meeting his gaze and seeing nothing but honesty. No alcohol, no drugs, no pushy bandmates– just happy-go-lucky Tommy.

 “Let me prove it to you, okay? I’ll do whatever it takes, I swear,” Tommy grazes your palms gently with his thumbs, settling the uneasiness in your stomach. As much as you want to move on with your life, you can’t help but wonder if there’s something in the universe that keeps dragging the two of you together. Even though Tommy fucked up, you had never met someone so eager to gain your approval and keep it– especially not someone you didn’t officially belong to.

 Tommy awaits your reply with bated breath, obsessively searching your face for any indication of what you might be thinking.

 “I’ll think about it,” you decide, giving Tommy’s hands a gentle squeeze of affirmation.

 Tommy releases your hands and claps his together victoriously, “Oh thank fucking god!”

 “You do realize I didn’t say yes, right?”

 “I know dude, but everyone knows that if it isn’t a no then it’s definitely a maybe. Which is code for almost yes.”

 “Unbelievable,” you roll your eyes, trying to fight off the smile tugging at the corner of your lips. For the first time that day, Tommy is grinning. Tommy’s smile was something you didn’t know you needed to see until it was gone, but being able to bring it back makes it all worthwhile.

 “You know you say that a lot,” Tommy averts his eyes, a hint of shyness lingering in his voice. Apparently you weren’t the only one turning into someone unrecognizable since the two of you crossed paths.

 “That’s because you haven’t given me a reason to stop,” you nudge his knee playfully with your own, “now get out of my apartment before I change my mind.”

 “Whatever you say, pretty girl.” 

...

 After Tommy left, you decided to busy yourself with flipping through the Help Wanted section of the paper, hoping to find some odd jobs to do while you wait to see if UCLA will let you transfer for the semester. If you were lucky, maybe you’d even score a scholarship. You try to shake the thought, attempting to be a little bit more realistic about your life choices. Help Wanted it is, then.

 Store clerk, housekeeper, secretary, assistant manager– nothing seemed to be jumping out at you. At this point, you know you can’t really afford to be picky, but it would be nice to find something that you won’t mind doing just in case college doesn’t work out.

 Chewing thoughtlessly on the end of a pen, your eyes slowly drift downward to a cluster of small print at the bottom of the page.

     ‘Help Wanted – Record Store Sales Associate’

 The possibility of working in a record store didn’t sound so bad. At least if something were to fall through with UCLA, you’d still be able to get involved with music in some small way. You go ahead and circle the small ad, think that you may even try giving them a call later.

 Your job search is halted by the shrill ring of a telephone coming from your kitchen. Perplexed, you get up and eye the old phone cautiously. In the short amount of time you’d been in Los Angeles, you hadn’t had any reason to give anyone your phone number just yet. Who could be calling? The old tenant, maybe?

 Picking up the phone, you barely catch it before its final ring.

 “Hello?”

 “Y/N! Hey, it’s Tommy!” his low voice crackles softly through the static. You can hear the sounds of cars and people talking in the background, and figure he must’ve stopped at a phonebooth.  “Tommy? How the hell did you get this number?” you try to ask calmly, but hiding the surprise in your voice is nearly impossible.

 You barely know your own number, and highly doubt Tommy’s memorization skills are better than yours. Tommy chuckles on the other end and you can practically envision the goofy expression on his face.

 “The landlady, dude! She may or may not have a thing for me, and I may or may not have asked her for your number.”

 Tangling your fingers through the telephone cord with an unthinking hand, you feel lucky that Tommy isn’t able to see the girlish smile forming on your face.

 “Of course you did,” you say, stifling a giggle.

 “Yeah well, you know me– oh yeah! I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

 “Shoot,” you reply, racking your brain for any ideas as to what could be so important that Tommy would go through the trouble of getting your number and calling.

 Tommy takes in a deep breath on the other end of the line. “Would you–would you go on a date with me?”

 You nearly laugh out loud. “So this is what you couldn’t wait until you got home to tell me?”

 “Well, I just thought that taking you out would be the best way to show you that I really care, ya know?”

 You feel your heart soften at Tommy’s words, but there’s still something inside of you that wants a little bit more payback for what he put you through yesterday. As much as you appreciate the attention and his eagerness to please you, you want to make absolutely sure that he isn’t trying to play you.

 “Tommy, you know I said that I’d think about it.”

 “Yeah, but that was before I had a plan,” he scoffs impatiently, “and now I have one and I want to take you out.”

 “Okay well I’m pretty busy, so talk later–okay?” you go to put the phone down when you hear the faint sound of Tommy’s excited yelling coming from the receiver.

 “Wait, Y/N! Before you go, can I ask you one more thing?”

 “I’m listening,” you say.

 “Do you like flowers?”

 The question catches you off guard, “Uh, yeah. Doesn’t everyone?”

 “Okay cool, I was just wondering. Anyways, I gotta jet! See ya, dude!”

 The line goes dead as Tommy abruptly hangs up, the dial tone echoing flatly in your ears. As usual, Tommy leaves you confused and smiling to yourself. Just last night you thought you never wanted to give him the time of day, and now here you are, grinning like an idiot alone in your house.

     Why him?

...

 There’s a knock on your door about an hour after Tommy’s phone call. It certainly doesn’t take much brain power to figure out who’s probably waiting for you on the other side.

 “What do you want now, Tommy?” you ask, pulling open the door.

 Tommy looks down at you with a crazed look in his eyes, “Whoa, Y/N! How’d you know it was me?”

 “Lucky guess.”

 Tommy leans against the doorframe, head cocked to the side to get a better look at you. “So, uh about that date…” he wastes no time getting to the point of his sudden visit, “...do you think you might wanna go?”  “I said I’d think about it,” you shoot him a wry smile, finding yourself relishing in the opportunity to make him squirm for once.

 Tommy runs his hands through his hair, tugging at his dark waves in mild frustration. “Yeah but that was hours ago and–”

 “One hour ago. At most.”

 “–and I just really want to show you I’m serious okay? Let me take you out, Y/N. Please.” Tommy’s giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes he can, resorting to his boyish charm to win you over.

 You rub your chin for show, attempting to give the illusion that you’re lost deep within your own thoughts.  “Hmmm…” Tommy looks at you expectantly, hanging on your every syllable, “...still thinking about it.”

 “Oh come on, now you’re just being mean.”

 “Maybe,” you laugh, a playful lilt coloring your voice, “but don’t worry, loverboy, I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

 “Fine,” Tommy pouts, looking oddly adorable for a nearly grown man in such a disgruntled state of being.  You give the toe of his sneaker a reassuring nudge, “I’ll come to you.” It wasn’t just a possibility, it was a promise. After all, he was impossible to say no to.  “When?” Tommy asks, chest swelling with hope.

 “Eventually.”

...

 It’s almost evening when yet another knock sounds at your door. With a frustrated sigh, you fling the book you’d been reading down onto the coffee table, letting it splay out in a heap of crumpled pages.  “Tommy, how many times do I have to tell you that I’d think about it,” you groan, rushing to open the door.  When it swings open you look up, expecting to see Tommy’s looming figure, but instead look across from you to find Mick standing at your doorstep. In one of his hands is a bouquet of crimson roses wrapped snugly in a sheet of parchment paper. They’re absolutely stunning, and look extremely expensive.

 “Sorry to disappoint, neighbor,” Mick says, voice weary and bored as always, “but your idiot boy is off doing god knows what.”

 “Then what are you–?”

 Mick holds up his free hand, gently cutting you off before you can finish. “He wanted me to give you these.” He points the bouquet in your direction so you can take it, the parchment paper it's wrapped in rustles gently against the summer breeze. “‘Says you told him not to come up here.”

 “O-oh,” you stammer, unable to control the flush of heat rising rapidly to your cheeks. You aren’t entirely sure why Tommy was so hellbent on getting you to go out on a date with him, but you can’t deny that his methods are starting to work on you.

 “Look,” Mick huffs, as if being bothered to speak is an unbearable burden, “I can’t vouch for Tommy often, but what I can say is that he really wants to make this right. Whatever it is that’s going on up here.”

 “But I thought you said he does this shit all the time?” you don’t mean to sound argumentative with Mick, but part of the reason why you had a hard time buying that Tommy really cares is because of what you had heard and seen for yourself.

 “I’ve seen him fall in love a dozen times, but I’ve only ever seen him want to stay in it once– and that’s right now. He even called off our gig tonight just so he could go and figure everything out.”

 You swallow hard, knowing deep down that Mick would never had come up here to do such a ridiculous errand if he doesn’t at least partly believe what he’s saying. You think back to last night’s party and recall Mick’s shocked expression mirroring yours when that girl kissed Tommy. If anyone had even an inkling of what you had experienced, it was him.

 “Thank you,” you reply, voice softening with sincerity.

 Mick rolls his eyes, “Don’t thank me, go downstairs and tell Tommy that you’ll do it. I know you’re not that dumb, neighbor.

...

 “Hey drummer, special delivery!” Mick yells as the two of you step into the Crüe apartment.

 The boys’ apartment is in the same state of disarray as when you had fled from it the night before. The only difference is that, now, it was devoid of rambunctious party goers and populated by the occasional roach or two. From down the hall, you can hear Tommy’s wide steps approaching as he struts toward the living room.

 “Mick! Hey man, listen. I really don’t have time for this I have to get everything ready for–” Tommy stops dead in his tracks when he sees you standing by the busted window, hugging a dozen roses securely to your chest.

 “Y/N! What’re you doing here?” Tommy’s face lights up, his eyes brightening as he approaches you.  

 Mick interjects before you can respond. “She’s here to tell you that’s she finally come to her senses. Although I can’t blame her for being...apprehensive,” he punctuates his statement by glowering in Tommy’s direction.

 Tommy is only able to raise his hands in a form of surrender, taking an instinctive step back away from Mick.

 “Now,” Mick continues, “I leave you to it.”

 With that, Mick saunters out of the window ledge and into the sunshine, his back ramrod straight to support the slight limp developing in his leg. When he’s finally out of sight, you and Tommy exchange a bewildered look that quickly dissolves into an amiable fit of laughter. The roses are still pulled firmly against you as you look up at Tommy. You love the way his nose crinkles when he laughs, and know that–one day– he’ll probably have crows feet from a lifetime of smiling. Hopefully you’d even be around to see them.  

 “You know,” Tommy starts, pointing at the bundle of roses in your arms, “if I had known flowers were going to do the trick I would’ve bought you a hundred.”

 “Let’s just say that a certain alien may have put in a good word for you.”

 Tommy lets out a huge sigh of relief, “I’m so happy to hear you say that. Sending the old man up there was a gamble, and he definitely wasn’t happy with me today. Guess I owe him one.”

 “Can’t imagine why,” you smirk, satisfied with the fact that you aren’t the only one around here that isn’t completely willing to let go.

 “Anyways,” Tommy asserts, stepping into your personal space and placing his hands on his hips impatiently, “isn’t there something you wanted to tell me?”

 You gingerly pull one of the roses out from the bunch and hold it out to Tommy, careful not to prick your fingers on the thorns.

 “Tommy, may I go on a date with you?”

 Tommy accepts the rose, a broad smile breaking out across his face, “Hell yeah, baby girl. Pick you up at noon tomorrow?”

 “Sure thing, drummer boy,” you say.

 In a moment of sheer impulse, you stand up on the tips of your toes and place a soft kiss on Tommy’s cheek. His thin layer of stubble tickles your lips as that familiar, electric feeling courses through your being. When you come back down to the ground, Tommy is stunned to silence. He gently places a hand on his cheek, securing it to the spot where you kissed him as if were trying to preserve the delicate gesture forever.

 “So now will you leave me alone?” you laugh, making your way over to the open window.

 Just as you are about to climb on out of the Crüe apartment, Tommy suddenly comes back to reality and rushes over. “Wait! Uh, don’t forget to wear a bathing suit tomorrow.”

 “A bathing suit?” you ask incredulously, a single eyebrow raised, “What for?”

 “You’ll see.”

Part 6

Masterlist

[eviesmyspiritanimal]

We Are Off to See the Wizard Part 1

Summary: Audrey's Annual Halloween Bash is coming up, and Evie has thought of a rather interesting costume idea for the Core Four. Several of their friends get pulled into the epiphany, too. It's super fluffy with Huma, Jaudrey, Bal, Jarlos, Core Four fluff, and Mal and Hades father/daughter feels.

  “Evie, there is no way under the sun that I’m agreeing to this,” Mal firmly protested, evading Evie’s eyeliner that was headed for her eyes at a quick pace. She hurried over to the other side of the bed so that the bluenette couldn’t corner her against a wall.

  “M, please? I already have the costumes made and everything, and Audrey’s having her party tonight,” Evie begged, looking at her with soulful eyes as she paused on the opposite side of the bed. Mal rolled her eyes, keeping her gaze firmly locked on the door in an attempt to avoid falling for Evie’s sad look as she plotted a way to get out.

  Evie was currently attempting to desperately convince her sister to partake in her latest costume idea: The Wizard of Oz. She had apparently been working on the getups secretly behind Mal’s back for a long while now, and just today on Halloween, Evie had finally decided to present her plan to the other girl. Most likely she waited because she wanted to convince Mal that since it was the day of Halloween and the faerie still had no costume, she should just use Evie’s epiphany. Which, by the way, was a really stupid idea.

  To put it simply, Mal was not having it. She might decide to go out for Audrey’s big Halloween bash and would maybe even dress up, but she was never going to go in such a ridiculous outfit as a man made out of straw. Besides that, she wasn’t even a man.

  “How do you even know the getup’s going to fit since you didn’t even try it on me beforehand?” Mal desperately spoke, trying to find some loophole in this frustrating idea as she plotted her way out.

  “I’ve got your, Jay’s, and Carlos’ measurements!” Evie proudly grinned, before staring at Mal with that same look from earlier as her eyes attempted to delve deeply into whatever sympathy reserves that Mal had. “C’mon, let me put the costume on you… Please?”

  Mal looked between Evie, the door, and the bed before making up her mind.

  “Ain’t happenin’, cap’n,” Mal told her, faking a lunge for Evie’s side of the bed, but quickly rushing for the door and she shoved through the doorway quickly.

  However, just as soon as she shoved her way out of the horrifying dungeon of doom, she ran straight into Uma. The dark-skinned girl stumbled backward with the impact, but quickly recollected herself as she gained a questioning expression.

  “Woah, woah, woah. Just where’re you going in such a hurry?” Uma asked, holding the green-eyed girl’s arms firmly in an attempt to steady her. Mal shoved the door closed with her foot and she practically dragged Uma behind her as she started to scurry away.

  “Don’t ask why, just run before she makes you the dog,” Mal told her, and Uma began to willingly run close by her as Mal’s hand melted away from her wrist.

  “So we’re running through the halls of your castle away from Evie, because she’s gonna turn you into a pooch? Seriously? We’re talking bubble-gum-friendship-forever Evie, right?” Uma questioned, raising an eyebrow skeptically as Mal looked behind her furiously, ushering the pirate up the stairs to her favorite hiding spot on the roof.

  “Yeah, but she’s not turning anyone into a dog magically. It’s a makeup torture session,” Mal explained and Uma’s went wide as she swiftly moved with Mal’s shoves without any hesitation whatsoever.

  “In that case, I’m with you, girl. Run for the hills!” Uma yelled, hurrying up the stairwell and opening the door for the both of them. Mal quickly scaled them but paused so she could check to see if Evie was behind them.

  “Mal?!” Evie’s voice sounded off from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs, and with no hesitation, Mal dashed through the doorway with Uma quickly behind her.

  Uma turned and swiftly locked it behind her. There was a short moment where time seemed to stop. There were no sounds besides the pleasant breeze zipping around their ears, and for all practical purposes, Evie seemed to not have followed them.

  Uma hesitantly stepped back, keeping her eyes firmly glued on the door. After all, one couldn’t leave their guard down just yet. Especially when one’s dignity was at stake.

  The pirate ambled over to Mal, crossing her arms over her chest as she calmly surveyed the perfect view of the Isle that their lookout permitted.

  “Gosh,” Mal breathed heavily, breaking the silence as she stared wide-eyed at the door. Uma looked over at the purple-haired girl and raised an eyebrow.

  “You used to be able to outrun even me. Being queen’s aging you already, is it?” Uma teased, and Mal largely ignored her smart comment in favor of leaning against the railing tiredly.

  “Y’know, I’ve never been gladder to have you here in Auradon,” Mal grinned as she worked to catch her breath. Uma laughed breathlessly, rolling her eyes at the other girl with a smirk as she settled her gaze on Mal’s profile.

  “Really? Not even when we single-handedly saved Auradon from its greatest threat yet? ‘Cause I thought that was pretty dang awesome myself.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Audrey wasn’t it’s biggest threat. Try you.”

  “I was nowhere near crazy or dangerous as her. Even when I had an opportunity to take the scepter, I didn’t,” Uma told her, and Mal eyed her strangely, wondering if Uma had considered stealing it previously or had broken into the museum once before. It was a worrying thought, nevertheless, but she still trusted the pirate. Despite the fact that she was freshly reformed. Very freshly reformed.

  “But seriously, though, have y’all got that under better security yet? I mean really. A curtain isn’t exactly the best form of protection. Even that stupid, useless, totally unmagical Queen’s crown was surrounded by glass,” Uma laughed, shaking her head with a grin. Mal looked over at the other girl with a slight smile.

  “Nobody’s getting Mom’s scepter anytime soon. We’ve got it under special, high-security lockdown now.”

  “If you’d have thought of that earlier, you might not would’ve had this problem with Audrey.” Mal shot her a warning glance. Uma looked away with a shrug. “Just sayin’.”

  “Now, look, back to the main subject of why we’re even up here. What’s Evie trying to do to you?” Mal simply groaned deeply in response to the other girl’s question.

  “She’s got this ridiculous, cutesy-tutesy costume idea for me, Jay, Carlos, and her. Something about a scaredy-cat, a metal man, a straw person, and a girl that gets a concussion,” Mal explained, rolling her eyes at the very idea of Evie’s ridiculous plan.

  “Who’s she trying to get you to be?” Uma questioned.

  “She’s intending for me to be the straw person,” Mal replied, and Uma let out a sharp bark of laughter.

  “Good grief! That’s bad!” Uma cried. After a moment of considering this newest revelation, Uma chuckled.

  “But the good part is that I know what I’m saying to you the next time I see you,” Uma smirked widely and Mal’s eyes widened as she recognized that look and somehow knew what the dark-skinned girl was thinking.

  “Don’t you dare,” Mal warned. Uma’s wicked smile simply grew as she opened her mouth to speak. Mal closed her eyes in exasperation, knowing there was no stopping her.

  “Hay, gurl, hay!” Uma exclaimed, before bursting into laughter. Mal just huffed in response and waited for Uma to finally finish her fit of hysterics.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna give you heck for that,” Uma told her, shaking her head with a contented smile as a few giggles still haunted her tone.

  They quieted for a moment before the dark-skinned girl suddenly spoke again.

  “I’ve got an idea. What if you were the girl that got the concussion?” Uma asked, and Mal looked at her, completely unimpressed with her idea.

  “What if you were the dog, then?” Mal sarcastically questioned, and Uma pursed her lips and watched her, displeased with Mal’s sudden snark and lack of contemplation of her idea.

  “I’m just saying that it would certainly be better than the other options,” the pirate informed her.

  Mal thought about her statement for a moment, considering her chances of getting out of Evie’s costume idea. It was undeniably something that Evie really worked hard on and wanted to stick with. Besides, Mal knew she’d have to face the bluenette at one point or another, and Mal didn’t really want to face a disappointed, sad Evie when she finally did woman up.

  Mal finally nodded her head, straightening and heading for the door to deal with Evie who was most certainly downstairs lurking about and eagerly awaiting her favorite victim to mercilessly prey upon.

  “That’s not an entirely bad idea. I’ll go present it to her,” Mal told the pirate with a slight smirk.

  Uma just smirked in response, proud of her idea and also pleased with the fact that Mal had chosen to listen after all.

  Just as Mal unlocked the door, she turned to Uma and gestured with her head.

  “You coming?” Mal asked her. The pirate thought for a moment on her offer, and finally nodded, ultimately deciding to join her.

  “Well, I kind of want to see her face when she realizes that she gets to be a scarecrow,” Uma admitted with a lopsided grin, and Mal clapped her on the shoulder with a knowing smile.

  “Yeah, I’m sure you do,” Mal agreed, and the two of them headed down the stairs to face the terribly frightening beast that was Evie.

A/N: The first chapter of my Halloween fanfic I’ve been working on. I hope you all enjoyed it!

[prorevenge]

My supposed friend roommates decided to try and ghost me on renewal and add someone else to the lease.

So a few months ago me and my roommates started to wonder if we wanted to live in the same apartment and we were leaning on not because of maintenance issues and over all poor looking rooms. So N said he took the charge and started to look for a 3 man or a 5 man apartment. After that initial conversation months ago my roommates started to look for other places without me and actively hid conversations of the topic and going to other places from me. And I was completely oblivious until I pulled the whole situation down on its face. You guys will see that some master deception was at play here.

Now let me give some background information of these supposed friends. I’ve known them since the 4th grade and we have had some slight differences that usually end up in me getting left out or ignored in major decisions. In fact, one of the roommates (I’ll name him J) was a best friend for many years and he went so far as to call me a brother. While the others were good friends but we not as close. So last summer J decided he wanted a break from me and he wouldn’t talk to me. So the entire summer I didn’t hear anything from him or the other friends then saw them for the first time when we moved into the apartment( accept CB I worked with him over the summer) this apartment we sighed a lease on almost 9 months before. (I would have never sighed with them if this happened before because J completely ignoring me was kind of a dick move)

So now let me explain how I found out about this tom fuckery. About a week ago I started to really push the question of where we were living and asked each of them on their own. Each response was extremely uncomfortable and they wouldn’t give a straight answer so last night We got drunk and I ended up confronted all of them and used the facts I had against them. They finally told me that they were removing me from the lease and adding “A” (a friend they let sleep on the couch almost every night)

So extremely pissed off and genuinely hurt my supposed friends wouldn’t tell me about a major decision like that, I started to look for a place to live. And found that almost every place around was either already booked or was way out of my price range (double what I pay now)

More on last night So after looking for other places to live and spending hours in my room in a very bad mood my roommates decided to have people over so they could drink. One of the girls (I’ll name her C) came upstairs to ask me why I wasn’t downstairs enjoying the party so I explained the whole situation. Utterly appalled that supposed friends would do this she decided to help me get more answers(nobody has told me anything or given an explanation at this point) when she asked them I was upstairs listening and they said that they didn’t like how I leave the place a mess. (now I agree that I’ll sometimes leave stuff out like a backpack. Class supplies. A hoodie or small things that I’ll move back in a day or so) her follow up question was “then why does N (another roommate) leave dirty dishes in the sink for days at a time or why does “CB” (legal roommate 4) actively avoid doing any chores on the chore paper and gloat how he hasn’t done a single thing the whole semester. At this point I was at the top of the stairs almost dying at how accurate her depiction was because the room fell silent and the first words spoken was “wow you guys are dicks” by one of the other girls at the party

So now let’s get to the pro revenge part of this. I eventually found out that I had missed the renewal period by 2 days so I went down to the main office. The lady behind he counter initially said that because I missed the deadline there wasn’t much I could do, so I explained the misdirection and wrongdoings of the other roommates into intentionally making me miss the renewal date and she instantly said “wow that’s messed up” so she gave me a renewal form. At this point I had no idea how the situation would play out because I basically resigned for my room because it was my only option. So later that night We were playing squads on fortnite with each other because we all have a pc or console available somewhere in the house. After a few hours I explained the situation. And it went like this.

“so guys I found a place to live” and A responded with “really where?”

I said. It’s not that far from here

A responds with “huh really you found a place next door?”

So I responded with “no it’s not next door”

Slowly starting to piece it together A goes silent

J chimes in and says “no fucking way, it’s here isn’t it?”

At this point A starts to get very mad because he thinks I just fucked him out of a place to live so A gets up and shuts the ps4 off and starts throwing a hissy fit by throwing chairs around and yelling vulgar language at me and saying how nobody here likes me. And eventually storms off with an axe and goes to town on some trees outside the retaining fence.

I knew exactly how it would play out in the long run because of my talk at the front office and because A signed a lease. I knew that he would still be able to at least live here in the complex. I could have told A that he had a place to live but honestly I kinda wanted to see him squirm a little.

I would like to add I never put myself in a situation where I believed I could be hurt, or killed by an axe, because believe it or not I know these guys really well.

To recap, my “friends” decided to try and replace me without telling me. But without the common courtesy to talk about it ahead of time so I could find a place to live that would actually work I was kind of forced into a corner with 2 options. Option 1 spend double what I pay now per month or 2 renew my lease.

So here’s where the pro revenge comes in

As of right now the way this plays out completely depends on me.

Option 1 I could talk it out with them and try to resolve this peacefully and try to possibly repair the friendship (I don’t even know if I should even try to repair this friendship)

Option 2 If they continue to be dicks and do not want to talk civilly or try to do some other Tom fuckery I do have the option to keep my room which will make them all move out of that apartment. So I’m going to leave this to them and I will base my actions completely on how they handle this situation. I’ll keep you guys posted.

Edit 1 So after talking about the situation with my roommates and explaining why I made my decision and trying to get to the bottom of why this happened, an interesting development started to show. So from what A,J, and CB told me was that N went out and made the decision on his own to add A to the contract and boot me (because at this point I hadn’t signed because I had no idea what was going on) after changing the agreement at the front office he convinced A and CB to sign the paperwork without telling them that he booted me off. After A and CB finalized the paperwork N told them about how he kicked me off the lease and he wanted to keep it a secret from me and A and CB agreed as to not piss off N. (A and CB are basically sheep. They can be easily manipulated by N)

Now here’s where prorevenge2 comes in. I’ve concluded that N was the driving force behind lots of the drama and deception in our group. I’ve already talked to CB and asked him if he’s also noticed the deception N has been doing and he agreed with me and said that he believes J and A have also noticed this kind of treatment so tomorrow we are going to try to talk about it and decide if the deception was #1 even legal on a lease. And 2 if kicking N out instead is an appropriate option because we should probably remove the cancer before it does too much damage.

Resolution. Edit 2——3/30/18

After discussion on N’s controlling attitude with the others in the group they could see exactly what I was talking about. J and A decided to stay even tho they admit N is kind of a whiny cunt, while CB and I decided enough is enough. CB and I decided to move out of the current building for another building where we will get assigned 2 random people, because we both agree we do not want to deal with N’s controlling attitude anymore and be around for a total meltdown from N (I’ve seen it before and it isn’t pretty). This was the most peaceful resolution, because I wanted to keep them as “friends” but at arms length. And I will not be going out of my way for them anymore. And just knowing that I basically had a nuclear option (kicking everyone out by staying in the current room) if this wasn’t resolved peacefully, and I chose not to do it kinda makes me feel good inside.

So I guess the message of this story is DON’T BE ROOMMATES WITH YOUR FRIENDS, IT WILL LEAD TO TROUBLE!! As unlikely as it seems, sometimes your friends make good friends but not good roommates.

(source) (story by Zachman97)

[sisterspace]

A CAUTIONARY TALE AND MANY DREAMS DEFERRED

               On early Sunday morning August 16, 2015 my ex-boyfriend Lamar Davenport murdered his girlfriend E’dena Hines. The other day he was sentenced to 20 years in prison for first-degree manslaughter. It made headlines because she happened to be Morgan Freeman’s granddaughter. I have been having nightmares since she lost her life because I was very well aware of her. He made it official with her right after him and I ended so many years ago. There were many articles that poured out immediately after the murder but none of them touched on what really needed to be said. None of them took the chance to make a statement that would matter. None of them took the opportunity to make sure E’dena Hines’s death was not in vain. Unfortunately this type of crime happens every day, perhaps not as gruesome, but women are killed by people they were in relationships with every day, and there are usually signs. If we can learn to notice these signs then maybe we can prevent more senseless deaths. That is my sole reason for speaking out.

             I wavered back and forth for a while on whether I even wanted to speak on this matter. I am not interested in bashing Lamar (a lot of that has already been done). I am also not interested in defending him. He committed a heinous act and should suffer the consequences for his actions. My only interests are to speak to other women to help them recognize the traits of a potential abuser or an abusive relationship so they can get out, help individuals recognize those signs in their family member or friends so they can push them toward getting help, and to encourage those who are abusers themselves to seek help before they do something they regret for the rest of their lives. I feel my relationship with Lamar could serve that purpose. Many people who are in abusive relationships do not even know it. As with me, this could be happening in your life right now but the picture looks a little different than you expect so you may not notice it.

            I was involved with Lamar for approximately 3 years. We started out as friends and he eventually became my best friend. He was sweet, smart, attentive, and very religious. When we would hang out we would write songs and brainstorm ideas off of each other. My creativity was at its peak when we were together. He was able to make me feel like I was the most special person in the world. I do not know if it was real or not but out of all people I have met I think he believed in me the most, and I believed in him as well. His passion fueled mine. Even with such a positive impact on each other there was still a destructive element to our relationship. Often times our time together included drinking and getting high. Something I would indulge in when we were together because I felt safe with him. Whenever I would get too drunk he would always walk me all the way home. He could be a gentleman like that.

            One night at a mutual friends party I got so drunk I could barely walk without assistance. He wrapped his arm in mine and proceeded to walk me home like usual, but this time I noticed us going toward the roof instead of downstairs out of the building. I remember him laying me down on the floor so I could sleep it off, and waking up to him inside of me. I said to him “What are you doing?” He leaned down and kissed me and said, “It’s alright.” My mind couldn’t decide if this was sweet or was I being violated? But I never imagined violations being so tender. The mixed emotions caused tears to stream down my cheeks. I liked Lamar; in fact I had a serious crush on him at the time. I had imagined us making love one day…. just not that way and not without him actually being my boyfriend first. I tried to push him off but couldn’t muster any strength in my arms. He kissed me again as to comfort me and again assured me it was okay. So I relented. The next morning, not being sure if I dreamed everything I asked him “did we have sex?” He told me “yeah” with a huge grin on his face. It would be some time before I realized that’s actually rape.

             I convinced myself I had an equal part in that night due to being inebriated. So when I found out I was pregnant I decided to “give him a pass” because I loved him and felt he didn’t really mean any harm. The only problem is it later happened again. I say this to say; I have seen how Lamar could get when he is intoxicated so it wasn’t hard to picture what occurred on that fateful August night. If you are someone who notices that situations get out of hand when you get intoxicated then that is something you need to make the sober decision to stay away from. 

            After that night Lamar and I continued to be involved. I figured we had already had sex so we shared a special bond now. I grew more attached to him. As I fell deeper and deeper in love with him the more he seemed to resent me. He constantly spoke of his love for another woman. He was having sex with other women as well which I was in serious denial about. He made disparaging remarks about my appearance and in an effort to find out why he would not commit to me I would ask him what was wrong with me and he would tell me. There was always something wrong or something I was not doing. It killed any remnants of self-esteem I had. “At least he was being honest” I would tell myself. My mind was so mixed up there were times he would physically hurt me and I would end up apologizing to him. Even with all of that, he would always do or say something that would give me hope that one day he’d be committed and I would get all the love I saw he was capable of. I hoped him spending so much time with me would reveal to him that I was the one he needed. Sitting here older and wiser I say to all of the women reading this, if “hope” is a big part of your relationship, let it go. Hope isn’t real. Your relationship needs to be based on the good that is actually happening and not the hope that things would get better or return to the way they once were. If hope is the main ingredient of your relationship take the steps needed to walk away.

            One of the most confusing things is being abused by someone you love. No matter how much you are being hurt, your heart tells you to protect them. We must recognize this and fight those tendencies. One time he punched me in the face in front of his friends and a few days later they were pleading his case to me. “You know Lamar would never intentionally hurt you.” Everyone made me feel like I was overreacting. I did not trust my gut but went along with what was easiest to believe. If these actions mirror those of your friends, please get new friends. Your well-being should be any true friend’s priority. Do not allow anyone to stay in your life that enables your victimization. Also if you have a friend that you constantly witness disrespect their partner, ignoring it or “minding your business” is only encouraging them. Your speaking out maybe what they need in order to get help.  

            One of the things that could have helped me was the school we both attended. When he punched me in the face, instead of counseling me on abusive relationships the staff at the school made it seem like it was a mutual fight. We were not asked any questions to find out the dynamics of our relationship. No one took me aside to talk to me privately. The staff at the school let me down and it also let him down. This could have been an opportunity to teach him anger management techniques that would have saved his life down the line.

             I eventually became pregnant. I was so sick during that pregnancy that I loss the baby and my doctor told me not to have sex for at least 6 weeks. Lamar came over to my house that night extremely high and drunk and tried to have sex. I told him that I could not have sex for 6 weeks. That did not register with him and he took it by force. I was pushing and kicking him off and he overpowered me and had sex with me anyway.  After it was over I was crying and I said to him “You just raped me.” He was furious yelling “how could you say that to me?” “How could you think I would do something like that?” He was so angry that it made me feel guilty for hurting his feelings. I spent the rest of the night apologizing to him and doing things to try and “make it up to him”. This night resulted in my second pregnancy, immediately after the loss of my first one. I endured all the disappointment from my family and friends without saying a word. I allowed everyone to think I was just irresponsible because I wanted my child to have a father. If they were to view Lamar negatively it would turn into a huge mess that I wasn’t ready for.

              Despite us not being in a perfect place I looked very much forward to having my child. One day Lamar told me he would come with me to one of my ultra-sound appointments. I was excited because this was the first one he had been to. He was a little late but he did show up, but he also showed up high. His eyes were glassy and he was acting spacey. I was angry and disappointed that on such an important day with our new life he would bring old habits into the equation. I needed to see him grown up. I needed to see that he could be a responsible father and he was proving otherwise. When we saw our baby on the monitor it was magical and I saw his eyes light up. I knew it meant something to him. When the doctor left the office he started going through the drawers and stealing miscellaneous items. That is when I knew he would not be able to be a responsible father. If I had this baby I would never get away from his destructive behavior and I would be including a new innocent life to the equation. I could not do that, for once I was going to use my better judgment. I told that to Lamar and he said flatly “If you kill my baby, I will kill you.” Part of me believed him but I knew what I had to do. Aborting my child was one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make. One I regretted until three years ago. I overlooked what he said but threats should always be taken seriously.

            What finally gave me the strength to leave was reading something he wrote in an online journal all our group of friends had access to, where he described having to “will himself to sleep with me” and how “ sleeping with me was good practice for the woman he actually loved”. Deep down I always feared he felt that way, but it was something about the public humiliation of it and seeing it in writing that cemented it into my heart. Truth is I should not have had to read it to finally get the hint. If only I recognized all the things that all lead to the same destination back then. But hopefully I can prevent someone from needing proof set in stone before they walk away. Your instincts are enough.

            There are many reasons a person maybe attached to a relationship that is not good for them. The up and down feelings can be so intense it is like adrenaline. The connection I had with Lamar was nothing like I had ever felt before. Even today, it is something that I look back on as uncanny. Most people do not understand me, but he got me. Being around someone who understood me without having to say a word was refreshing and something I desperately wanted to hold on to. It was so valuable to me and I never thought I could find it again. But now as I sit here in my 30’s I can say with over 7 billion people in the world there are many people out there who will understand you. It is all about being patient enough to wait until they come into your life. Your life is worth that wait.

            One of the saddest things in this whole situation is all the unrealized talent. Who would be open to Lamar’s talent now? And his talents were breath taking. He was an avid writer. In the years we spent together he had filled about 8 full composition notebooks with songs. Thoughts now run across my mind about his family and all the people dependent on him. He was great with kids and appeared to be nothing but a doting father. His immediate family adored him and he was very much the apple of their eye.

            So is this man who murdered his girlfriend in cold blood evil?  Is he crazy? Did he have some sort of undiagnosed mental illness? Was it the drugs? I don’t know. I have not examined him nor do I have the expertise to diagnose him. I can definitely say he was disturbed but we all just looked at it as part of his quirky personality. There was a lot of missed opportunity for us to get him some help. There were a lot of missed signs. I wonder if others are experiencing as much guilt as I am. We all could have done more to prevent this. He was a powder keg.

            After I got the strength to walk away from him a year or two went by when I received a text message from him out of nowhere. It was an apology. He said he was sorry for everything he put me through and told me I did not deserve any of it. His words seemed sincere. I had not pushed for an apology nor did I hold my breath for one, but I would be lying if I said it did not help with the healing process. It is difficult for me to see someone with remorse as pure evil.

            After his apology there was contact via social media but I stayed out of his life. Lamar is easy to love and a part of me still loved him, but I did not trust his ability to not let chaos into our relationship and I did not trust myself not to slip into the darkness with him again. I knew I had to love him from a distance. That was not easy for me so I developed a tactic to help give me the strength where there wasn’t any. I wrote down all the bad things he had ever done to me and all the negative emotions I felt being with him and I read it every day for a year. Whenever I felt like reaching out and calling him I would read that list and it reminded me what I never wanted to feel ever again. Eventually it got easier and I did not have to look at the list anymore. I suggest whoever is bound to a toxic relationship to develop different techniques that would keep them safe and keep them from going back. 

            A relationship should feel good. You should not feel like you are walking on eggshells, never knowing if you and your partner will have a good day or a bad one. You should not feel anxious that you may say the wrong thing. You should not have to maneuver around their moods.

            I must also say we focus a lot on the woman in domestic situations; teaching women how not to get raped and how to leave abusive relationships, but who is catering to the men? One thing I take from this is that Lamar should have had places to turn to. Men with anger issues sometimes do not know they have a problem because society encourages aggression in men so fits of rage are seen as normal. I would love to see workshops, classes and programs where abusers can go to get help without shame. The only way we end this epidemic is if we include men in the treatments and solutions. Just calling them evil won’t make any man get help, and our goal should be solutions. I would love to see men who overcame this affliction speak out and talk to other men and guide them on how they can rid their violent urges and become better men. 

            Friends and family should speak out when they notice this destructive behavior and when they do they should have a place to refer their family member to, to get help. So far in society we only work on half of the problem.

            I implore women to notice the signs and do not ignore the tales of other women involving your guy. They aren’t just “hating on you” or “mad that he won’t be with them”. I happen to know that E’dena was contacted by other women and in an effort to stay above the fray she chose not to indulge it. I wish she had.

            Lastly the focus of this article was about men abusing women, but abuse can happen between any gender and orientation. Women can abuse men, abuse can take place between same sex partners, inside the LBGTQ community and it can also happen within platonic friendships. Abuse does not discriminate. This is my personal story but I hope this is read and applied to whatever relationship is relevant and I hope it speaks to the heart and gives those who need it the strength required to find peace within themselves.

            As far as Lamar is concerned I would like him to get the help and counseling he needs. I would like to see him not touch drugs ever again. I would like to see him live with a clear mind. I would like to see him get to the bottom of his issues and understand all his mistakes and actively work to not revert back.  Most of all I wish healing for his family, healing for E’dena’s family and for her to be at peace and her life still be able to have an impact.

This can help if:

your partner tries to control your behaviour

your partner threatens to harm you, your pets or people you love

you’re scared of your partner.

Girl facing away from upset boyfriend

Key signs of an abusive relationship

An abusive relationship isn’t just limited to physical violence. It can include sexual, emotional and physical abuse, and may involve control of your finances. Here are some signs to look for.

Possessiveness

They check on you all the time to see where you are, what you're doing and who you're with.

They try to control where you go and who you see, and get angry if you don't do what they say.

Jealousy

They accuse you of being unfaithful or of flirting.

They isolate you from family and friends, often by behaving rudely to them.

Put-downs

They put you down, either publicly or privately, by attacking your intelligence, looks, mental health or capabilities.

They constantly compare you unfavourably to others.

They blame you for all the problems in your relationship, and for their violent outbursts.

They say things like, 'No one else will want you.'

Threats

They yell or sulk, and deliberately break things that you value.

They threaten to use violence against you, your family, friends or a pet.

Physical and sexual violence

They push, shove, hit or grab you, or make you have sex or do things you don't want to do.

They harm you, your pets or your family members.

In Need of Help?

[goldendream-s]

locked room

a/n; found this buried in my drafts. enjoy (or don’t lmao idrk)

request; Can you do one where Aaliyah and y/n are friends and she’s dating Shawn but they are in a fight and are not talking so when Y/N and Shawn’s families get together for dinner and are still not talking, Aaliyah locks them in a room until they make up

MASTERLIST || REQUEST 

“Are you ready, honey?” Your dad called for you from downstairs. You were in your room touching up your casual dress as you got ready for the weekly dinner that your family and the Mendes family had with each other. Your dad and Manny were best buds in college, which made the growing friendship between your mom and Karen inevitable. That automatically made a friendship between you, Aaliyah, and Shawn a no-brainier. Although you were a few years older than ‘Liyah, the two of you would always hang out, and as for Shawn, the two of you were dating.

The situation seemed perfect: your boyfriend’s parents were best friends with yours, while his sister absolutely adored you. It usually did make things easier, but it all seemed to not be working in your favor at the moment. Shawn and you had recently gotten into an argument two days before, and as immature as it sounds, the two of you haven’t talked or made any effort to make amends within that time. You weren’t even sure if you could call it a fight or argument because no words were even exchanged, but you both knew that things at the moment were not at its best.

He had missed your drill team showcase that he promised to attend weeks before, and although you weren’t mad at first, you became fuming when you found out that he ditched you because his friends had asked him to hang out last minute. You weren’t looking forward to seeing Shawn again, and you definitely weren’t looking forward to the questions that Aaliyah would ask you. She might’ve been younger than you, but speaking that she was there from the moment you told her you had slight feelings for Shawn to the night he asked you to be his, you knew that she would be able to tell that something was wrong.

Dinner couldn’t have been more awkward between you and Shawn. Of course, your parents and his were oblivious to the tension but between you, Shawn, and Aaliyah, all three of you sensed the strain. Shawn was sitting on your right while Aaliyah across from you, making everything even worse.

“How was your recital the other day, Y/N?” Karen kindly asked from across the table. “It was for drill team, right?” She asked as you nervously nodded. You were desperately hoping that this wouldn’t be a topic of discussion for tonight, especially since it was the whole reason you and Shawn were in this predicament.

“Oh gosh, it went great! It’s always fun showing off for your friends and family,” You laughed despite wanting to change the subject.

“We’re glad to hear that! We’re so sorry we couldn’t come this year, though. I was looking forward to it but my busy work schedule wouldn’t let me come out,” Karen apologized to you. She was like a second mother to you, and she and Manny were always willing to come out to support you.

“Oh gosh, don’t worry about it!” You quickly tell her. “You and Mr. Mendes already come out to so many of my other events,” You say while thanking the two.

“Well, we love coming! Hopefully we can make it to next year’s showcase. I’m sure Shawn went and enjoyed the recital, though.” 

As soon as Karen said that, your body immediately tensed up, not sure what to do next. Luckily, you didn’t have to worry for so long before Shawn cut in.

“Yep, I went! She did great as always.” Shawn tells everyone at the table. 

You knew that he said that to go along with the conversation, but it was nothing but lies. He wasn’t even there, let alone did he ever ask how the showcase went. Your mind jumps to the night of the recital. You had reserved one spot in the front row for Shawn since the drill team members got to reserve one spot for a guest. Your parents already couldn’t make the event since they were in another state with family, so Shawn was your only support that you invited for the night. The whole night you were on stage, you glanced back and forth at the seat that Shawn should’ve been at, but it was empty the whole night. You remembered how your excitement and smile for the night turned to fake enthusiasm as you realized that Shawn was never actually coming. 

The worst part was after the show had ended, everyone else on your team surrounded by their own family and friends while you were standing by yourself against the wall, hoping for even just a text from Shawn apologizing for missing the important night. You went home alone that night to only find pictures of Shawn and his friends posted all over Twitter and Instagram. Hoping in was all a misunderstanding, you called and texting him only to have no reply.

“Ok, you kids go ahead and do your thing. We’ll clean the table up,” Shawn’s parents offered after everyone had finished their food.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” You offered.

“Non-sense! You are our guest!” Manny said. “We’ll get it.”

You nodded and followed Shawn and Aaliyah down to the basement. This is how things usually played after dinner – the three of you would go down to the basement to watch movies and catch up for the week. It was almost like a tradition, but you weren’t sure if you even wanted to talk to Shawn at the moment.

Half way down the flight of stairs, Aaliyah stops in her tracks abruptly, leaving you and Shawn halting just a few steps behind her. She turns around to face the two of you, but makes no motion indicating that she’s budging any time soon.

“What the heck, ‘Liyah?” Shawn rolls his eyes at her, equally as confused as you.

“What’s been going on with the two of you tonight? Don’t even pretend like you guys are totally fine right now. I’m surprised mom and dad didn’t notice how you and Y/N didn’t even make eye contact once tonight.” She confronts the two of you.

“Mind your own business, okay? I don’t need my little sister butting into everything.” Shawn annoyingly mutters.

Aaliyah briskly begins walking up the stairs all the back to the first step. You still haven’t spoken at all, still frozen in shock. Shawn on the other hand seems to know what’s happening because in a blink of an eye, he’s sprinting to the door that Aaliyah just ran through. Before he can reach the doorway, both of you hear the familiar click of a bolt on the other side of the door, meaning that she had just locked the two of you in the basement. 

Just you and Shawn, alone.

You mind finally recognizes the turn of events and imitates Shawn’s pounding fist of the wooden door. “Let us out right now, Aaliyah! If you don’t unlock it right now, you’re so dead!” He yells loud enough for his younger sister to hear.

“I’m not letting the two of you out until you guys make up. Until then, I’ll be in my room. You have my phone number if you need me.” She calls back on the other side. You can practically hear the smirk through her voice and you curse at yourself at being so gullible to her scheme. Of course Aaliyah would pull something like this.

The next few minutes were spent with both you and Shawn trying to open the door and throwing out threats. Of course, the door never opened, leaving you and Shawn to return back down the stairs to sit in the basement. 

Neither you nor Shawn have exchanged any words through all of this, and it looked like the two of you would be down here for a while. Sitting on opposite sides of the same couch, the two of you look anywhere but into each other’s eyes. You begin fiddling with the pillow contemplating on taking a nap to pass time. Sure, it was childish to not try to fix a small fight and even more childish to be giving each other the silent treatment, but being the stubborn and independent person you were, you didn’t want to be the one to give in. Even if that meant silently sitting in a locked room with Shawn.

It felt like hours had passed when in reality it had just been ten minutes of you and Shawn sitting in quietness. You caught him staring at you a few times, and you were guilty of the act to. Finally deciding to be the bigger person, you sit up to start the dreaded conversation.

“I’m sorry”

You finally blurt out, realizing that Shawn had just said it at the same time as you. Not sure if you should be the first to continue the apology, you’re beat by Shawn.

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry. I really am. I’m not gonna make up any excuses but I know I forgot. I thought the showcase was next week. I even had a bouquet of flowers ordered especially for the night. I’m sorry I didn’t try to talk to you after, and I’m so sorry I missed it. After I realized that I missed your show, I somehow convinced myself that you wanted nothing to do with me. I knew how important it was to you. If I knew that it was this week I would’ve just skipped the studio and night with Brian and Ian.” Shawn apologized, slowly bringing his body closer to yours.

“You don’t have to apologize,” You sigh, “I was being selfish. I know you’ve been busy with your album, and I should’ve been more understanding. We’re both juggling our own things and I should’ve just talked to you about it instead of ignoring you. I guess I was just asking for too much.” You finally drift your gaze up to his soft apologetic eyes.

“Don’t blame this on yourself. I was in the wrong too. Ugh, I feel like such a bad boyfriend. I never meant to make you feel forgotten or cast to the side, princess. I don’t know how I let it slip my mind. Please forgive me.” He caressed your shoulder and you knew he was asking for permission to hug you, not sure if you had forgiven him yet. You pull him towards you, into a tight hug.

“Of course. I would never be able to be mad at your forever.” You laugh into his shirt.

“Oh my goodness, Y/N. Please don’t do that again, baby. I thought you hated me.” He joined you laugh. 

The awkwardness was beginning to wear out, and it was as if the whole fight never happened.

“I love you, y’know?” You tell Shawn as the two of you cuddle on his couch.

“I love you more, babe. Don’t even fight me on this one.” He teases as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

As if on cue, you hear the bolt to the basement’s door unlock as Aaliyah trots down the stairs, clapping. 

“Aww, you two are so cute! I knew my plan would work.” She laughed while pretending to wipe away tears.

“Oh shut up, ‘Liyah.” Shawn laughed as she waved her over to start the movie night. You mentally made sure to thank her once the two of you were alone as the three of you spent Friday night together.

check out my other writings >> masterlist

p.s. it’d be really great if you could like and/or reblog this :))

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