#w/ whatever traits the author felt like giving him (usually to make him part of a ship or someone's dad or something)

[lord-squiggletits]

Some of ppl's refusal (or inability) to write IDW OP isn't bc of annoyance or cowardice but just bc they like... don't know his personality? Yknow very "only read MTMTE syndrome" that's so common in this fandom.

Maybe it's bc I'm an IDW OP enjoyer/simp but I really don't get what's hard to write about his personality or why ppl feel the need to throw in continuity soup elements with him (while maintaining every other character in the fic meticulously and lovingly accurate to IDW lore). Like dudes IDW OP is already interesting even if you only need him as a side plot or character you just need to know how to write him.

But I guess people trying to write IDW OP and failing/writing an extremely watered down IDW OP is an improvement from not writing him at all and being annoying hating him in every single public space related (or not related) to Optimus, so it's meh

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

The Whore || John Shelby x reader

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested: “11&19 with John boy? cause I miss him “ (I miss him too, my poor heart aches)

Summary:  n.11 & 19 from prompt list: “Please, please, please” + “I’ll burn this fucking place down” Warnings: swearing, a lot of angst, prostitution, nudity, violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, misogynistic talk, graphic description of signs of physical abuse

Author’s notes:

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

So, this request’s been in my mind for ages, and even though I’m not happy with its final part ‘cause it sucks, I’m literally obsessed with this idea, I love it so much that I’ll probably write a long fic about it, right after Contagio, but it will depend on you babes, because, first and froemost, I need to know what you think about this piece. ⤟ IMPORTANT

Please, if you’re a victim of any kind of abuse, talk to someone who can help you, nobody should go through something like that alone.⤟ IMPORTANT 

I edited the gif and added the text, it’s not an actual scene from the show, but I thought it could be a good idea, a small detail that could be added to my works. What do you think about it? Pls, let me hear your opinions babeees ⤟ 

I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham was somehow silent that night, John noticed the unusually empty streets around him, as his feisty pace easily led him towards a well-known destination, his confident steps resounding in between the damp walls of those sordid blocks made of innumerable overcrowded flats. The unmistakable stench of stagnant urine viciously permeated his nostrils, soon causing a disgusted expression to taint his angelic face, while he avidly took the umpteenth drag of smoke from his Cuban cigar and finally stopped his unceasing walk in front of the most renowned brothel in the entire city. For about three years by then, day after day, his life had been perilously circling the drain: things had got totally out of hand, fate had pitilessly thrown him into profound despair, giving life to an apparently endless spiral of darkness and desolation, which was gradually corroding his fragile self, brutally strangling him, rapaciously plundering each of his already strained vital breaths. And, nevertheless, it was beyond hard to blame him for such catastrophic outcomes, after all, he’d scarcely survived the battlefield, only to find himself with a handful of nothing, left alone to deal with a dead wife and four children to raise on his own, while his guts crawled with excruciating grief and ravenous acrimony for the whole world, having him develop a tendency to self-destruction that was just as concerning as it was well concealed.  As a matter of fact, in spite of his private hell, he still remained a Shelby, and a Shelby wasn’t meant to be soft, nor weak, none of them could afford to succumb to their affliction, never, not for a moment. They had to be invulnerable. 

Or, at least, they had to look invulnerable, for truth was that John was scared, utterly frightened by all those unmerciful changes.  Deep inside he felt like a hopeless, undefended child, forsaken by God and discarded to wander that grim world without any destination other than death and misery, thus his blood boiled with virulence and venom, having his heart clench with blind wrath and his devastated young soul desperately long for sort of any distorted kind of unattached affection. That was basically the main reason why his bed was incessantly warm, or more accurately, warmer than it had always been before, because, needless to say, John Shelby had actually been an authentic ladies’ man since his first cry. His stunning beauty constantly teemed on everyone’s lips in Birmingham, there was not a single woman in the whole town who hadn’t dreamt of sleeping with him at least once in her life. Therefore, John was more than happy to please them all, literally, welcoming them with wide open arms, even during his past marriage; and, on those rare times when no girl went to knock on his door, he had now grown accustomed to seek relief into whorehouses, rather than sleep alone and become an easy prey for his ferocious demons.

So he eventually ended up dropping his smouldering cigar on the uneven asphalt of the most rundown place in Small Heath, “Le Belle Donne”, an Italian house of tolerance, quite dilapidated and about to fall to pieces, but which often happened to have his favourite prostitutes. Indeed, ever since the Peaky Blinders had defeated and subjugated Sabini’s clan, they’d occupied a prominent position among the country, to the point that several other Italian gangs on their territory, including the Changrettas who owned that brothel in particular, had finally given in to the Shelbys. As a direct consequence, to put it simply, John and all his brothers had, in a very real sense, earned the full right to abuse of whatever business the wops held.

“Hey, man!”  Johnny resonantly barked as he entered the hall, maintaining a pretty intimidating attitude and a menacing look on purpose, in order to strike even greater fear in his newest flunky. “C’mon, show me what you got” That rough order cunningly glided onto his lower lip, immediately followed by his hot tongue, while his famished gaze travelled around the room, examining the face of each harlot standing there with meticulous attention, without however finding something that could come anywhere close to seriously rapture him. Robert Turrini, the whoremaster, was a bizarre bloke, for his physical appearance could be probably described as both disturbing and amusing: his revortingly corpulent stomach wobbled and his short legs dangerously stumbled, when he made haste to stand up and accommodate his toughest client. “Mr. Shelby, what an honour and a pleasure to have you back!” Those sycophant words fled his moist and malodorous mouth, and nonetheless, his stubby fingers inexorably betrayed his true thoughts, since they were either nervously torturing each other or, as only alternative, convulsively running through his greasy, mangy bangs. “Please, sir, follow me, these are for yokels and boozers, nothing to do with gentlemen like yourself” Once again, Turrini’s shrill fawning tone relentlessly grated his ears, making clear reference to the bunch of second-rate whores who could be found at the entrance; thus the lame pimp quickly moved, his hand anxiously beckoning John to tread upon his heels, then headed towards an eerily narrow corridor, so scanty that it was almost impossible to cross, if not walking on the bias. The secret lounge was illuminated only in part by a squalid red light creating a gruesome atmosphere, a dull silence tyrannically reigned into that small space, although you were not alone, but practically glued to another girl; both sitting on a minuscle sofa, your elbows touching, still none of you dared emit a single sound. Everything felt like lead upon your papier-mâché ribcage, that horrible sensation forcing your traumatized brain to involuntarily keep counting the seconds until that heinous burden would’ve potentially staved in your sternum, definitively annihilating your splintered heart. As a result, when the ramshackle door opened and a high-pitched squeak scraped your skin, you really thought to be about to die. Your torturer made his entrance, and right after him, another man came in, yet you couldn’t spot his face, since the peak of his cap designedly casted a mysterious shadow on it. “These two right here, they're real young, real fresh” Robert flaunted his goods along with a nefarious grin, rubbing his soiled paws with evident greed. “Behold the finest offering of flesh and bone on the market” A sadistic snicker repugnantly accompanied his speech, instantly causing John to frown, visibly disgruntled with the way that man deliberately talked about human beings. Luckily, it was a known fact that the middle Shelby was used to treating his women with all due respect: whether he paid them or not, he always made sure they were comfortable with him and never shrank from giving them some good time as well; therefore, a vexed glare was shot in the direction of his gross interlocutor, before his crystalline eyes briefly fluttered around the place, then bumping into your elegant figure almost at once.

Your bloodstream seemed to benumb on the spot as the stranger’s confident stare entangled yours, his rawboned features being now fully displayed, for he had lifted his chin a little in order to properly look at you, and you only, despite Clarissa’s desperate and petulant attempts to get his attention with malicious smiles and ridiculous pet names. Even though your dazed mind had just been ruthlessly brutalized by the sudden, ablaze assault of his glacial irises, a few moments were enough for you to realize how profoundly different he was from all the low-down rats who usually came through that horrible place.

Each sharp, still somehow delicate, trait of his face was brimming with delicious youthfulness, a less keen eye might have even confounded his freshness with actual naivety, but not yours; you were far too clever to make such a coarse mistake. Furthermore, the midnight-blue posh fabric of the classy suit, remarkably folding his majestic body, left gaunt doubt that he was, in all likelihood, a considerably rich man, which was beyond disorientating you, since the price to pay for some tawdry delight in that brothel was outrageously derisory, to say the least. And ultimately, as much as it killed you to conceive it, he was without question one of the most enchanting men you had ever seen, to the point that you found yourself subconsciously wondering the possible reason why a heavenly creature of his kind would’ve needed to buy a miserable hour of dissembled love. 

“There she is” That malleable murmur, filled with longing and gratification, furtively sidled past John’s roseate mouth, as its corners seductively bent upwards and his gaze persevered in its praiseworthy commitment to scrupulously linger your finest shape in sheer adoration. Lace and organdy sublimely merged on the light crimson negligee you were wearing, your immaculate form appeared as a beguiling paradox into his dilated pupils, being your long legs lecherously left exposed, while every inch of your porcelain skin, from your lean neck to your groin, was painstakingly disguised by that unholy material, dark and inscrutable, albeit thin enough to allow him to glimpse the inviting turgidity of your nipples. His breath shuddered in awe when he went back to contemplate your aphrodisiac facial features, flushed cheeks and plump lips having him ache with desire, and then your doe eyes flooded by melancholy, strangling his soul with no mercy, entrenching into his brains the treacherous conviction that, at the end of the day, he would’ve gladly dilapidated his fortune, if only to venerate you from afar. “Oi, sweetheart!” His low voice finally rumbled within the walls of that small space, overwhelmingly vibrating into your abdomen, while you forced yourself to swallow the painful lump obstructing your throat and stand up, promptly responding to his command, aware as you had become that rebelling against your pitiable destiny would’ve served no purpose at all. Holding your client’s hand behind your back, but keeping your head down during the whole route, you silently guided him up the spiral staircase to the best room in the house, like you had previously been instructed by your pimp. His jacket and hat were quickly hung on the apposite coat-rack, leaving his muscular top covered with just his white shirt and blue vest, an alluring grin was flashed in your direction and you detected a libidinous sparkle in his irises, as he healed the rift between you at a slow pace. “What should I call you, sweetheart?” He knowingly used the same flattering pet name once more, whispering that barely audible question into your ear, for he was now behind you: his large hands laid around your waist, gently making your back and his vigorous chest fit together, while his skilled mouth brushed forthwith against your nape, drawing an ardent contrail of ephemeral pecks up until your jaw. “Just y/n” You gasped in response, the marked contrast between his warmth and your bitter cold body, along with crippling dread eating you alive, caused your scrambled stomach to squirm and your eyelids to distressingly shut into a frown. “Well, that’s a pretty good one, I’m John, by the way” A lovely, yet hinted giggle fleetingly filled your ears together with that little compliment; there was no record of mockery in his tone, though, it simply sounded like he wanted to be nice to you, without any aspiration of personal gain, and you almost blushed, caught off guard and no longer used to any form of kindness. Nevertheless, it was a matter of instants before another wet, long kiss was pressed on your jawline, making you startle with evident apprehension and, at a later time, definitively back away from him, as soon as you sensed his touch abandoning your hips only to climb your sides, till he reached for your nightgown’s collar and his fingers began to fiddle with its round buttons. “No, I’ll do it!” You curtly gave notice, as you temporarily lost control of both your speech and actions, placing your hands above his in order to shrug them off, then turning to face him with short breath, your open palms shielding you. “I got it” A noticeably softer voice supplanted your preceding rudeness once you gradually metabolised how much damage your incautious reaction could’ve done.

“Aye, aye, darling, as you wish” But John just chuckled, tenderly humouring you, while his forearms jokingly lift in surrender to your commands, although, truth be told, your strange behaviour had left him a bit bewildered, well-nigh confused. Carefully moving backwards, he cockily made himself comfortable on the edge of the double bed, sitting right in front of you with splayed legs, his yearning stare never deflecting from you, and started to unbutton his waistcoat along with his shirt and undershirt, until his statuesque torso was completely nude, in all its glory, as the moon transpired through the curtains and shed its faint rays on his every contour, superbly enhancing all of his muscles.

Without reprieve, he ogled up at you in pure adoration, devastatingly astonished afresh by your dazzling beauty, eager to feel your afire flesh around his, literally hanging on your every word or move, while a provocative smirk steadily rippled his lips. Still, he kept questioning why a seraphic vision like you was slowly withering away in that authentic hell on heart, adamantly squandering your blush of youth amidst that rabble of unrestrained putridity. It made absolutely no sense, and he couldn’t get rid of that pernicious thought haunting his mind ever since he had first seen you: you looked nervous, extremely defensive, almost paralyzed with fear; you seemed so different from all the whores he’d had before, hence his instincts, however obfuscated with cupidity, were screaming that something was wrong.  And when he watched you turn your back on him again, so to avoid his penetrating gaze as you reluctantly got undressed, it was enough for him to understand that his execrable hunch was right. Nevertheless, by the time his head managed to eventually reconnect to his mouth, it was already too late, the soft textile of your nightdress ineluctably fell to your feet, leaving you naked under his starving leer.

John choked on his own breath; for the very first time, he felt like a fledgling kid at his earliest experience, no matter if nothing could be further form the truth, in some turbid, cryptic way, you were able to make him vulnerable. His craw went hellishly dry while he continued to gape at you in awe, the sinuous curves of your flawless glutes, the meandering line of your superlatively arched back covered in part by your soft hair, your tensed shoulders and your refined legs, everything about you caused his mind to go entirely black, words stifling in his throat. Yet, as soon as you moved to face him and his sight was blessed with the full view of your voluptuous figure, something altered the light in his cerulean eyes, suddenly making it dark and gloomy. His jaw slightly dropped under the weight of that violent dismay: in conjunction, an obnoxious sense of nausea cruelly shot him in the gut and blind anger virulently assailed him, for your front bust was completely martyrized.

“What the hell...” That unmeant babble died in the gelid air, his shocked orbs demarcating the strokes of your damaged silhouette: your neck and collarbone were horridly plastered with several violet fingerprints, as if someone had mercilessly strangled you over and over, greenish bruises with the shape of full palms circled both your arms, there were conspicuous signs of ligature around your tiny wrists. Worse still, his eyelids had to squeeze a little in order to bring into focus the multiple oxblood dots stigmatizing your soft breasts, until he noticed in horror how those round specks were effectively cigarettes burns; all of the oxygen bluntly withdrew from his lungs, when he dwelled on the multiple blue and black marks barbarically desecrating the protuberances of your ribs. But what irremediably drove him over the edge were the two ghastly scars digging stretched grooves in your lower stomach, in parallel with your bulging pelvic bones and down almost to your livid groin.

Prey of that deleterious humiliation, you observed raw disgust contaminating his features and, with no apparent reason, the dormant hatred you had for yourself began to ferment inside your belly. “I-I’m sorry” you forced yourself to swallow your imminent tears, unexpectedly, the awareness of not being able to please him somehow inflicted more suffering on your mangled soul “If I’m not to your taste, y-you can...” The young man quickly stood up and, before you had the chance to finish your nonsensical sentence, he readily grabbed his shirt, approaching you with dispatch, his cold irises burning with an implausible mixture of fury and concern. “I don’t fucking care right now” His voice was unsteady, rolling down his tongue in fatigued panting, as his hands hastened to wrap his shirt around your shoulders, his trembling fingers struggling to put the buttons through the eyelets  “Who did this to you?” In truth, he was talking to himself rather than with you, noticeable impatience worsening his mad tone, yet you persistently steered clear of his inquiring look, more than determined to keep your mouth shut, forasmuch as your dizzy head was already helplessly spinning, along with your heart rabidly hammering against your sore ribcage. You were having a hard time figuring out what was going on, everything around you was so confused, you didn’t even know whether to trust him or not, you only wanted to close your eyes and forget about that lucid nightmare. “I’m not asking you, for fuck’s sake! Tell me who it was!”  That searing order tersely brought you back to reality and cleared how easily his rash temper could reemerge; indeed, all of a sudden, no trace was left of that kind, cheerful boy who earlier that night had succeeded in making you genuinely blush, on the contrary, when he cupped your cheeks and vehemently shook you, in a desperate effort to get your attention, his rough, authoritative command unbendingly hit you, and the sweet child within him ended up being thoroughly smothered by the scary, ruthless gangster that he truly was. That unforeseen contact had your feet automatically stagger backwards, your eyes fell to your tiptoes and your teeth started skewering your lower lip, while your exhausted brain resorted to its last ounce of strength, thereby obligating you to spit out a bit of your sorrow. “Three months ago, the man I once called father sold me to settle one of his debts with the Italians” Your thorax seemed to shrink to the point of absurdity once you became aware that it was essentially the first time you allowed yourself to say it all out loud. However, the presence of that compassionate stranger still represented for you a substantial barrier to surmount, leading your unquiet glance to franticly move from the grime on the floor, to the broken window on your left, anywhere, but never daring to meet his. “ I tried to run away, I swear I did, but they always caught me and-” 

A large knot callously plugged the bottom of your palate, causing you to hesitate for a minute, gently rubbing your own arms, in attempt to comfort yourself . “Robert has a short fuse, he g-gets pretty brutal when you don’t cooperate” Those disenchanted considerations carried an involuntary grin, it was nothing more than a spasm, but hid the unmistakable sign of an imminent cry, and John’s attentive irises certainly did not let it go unnoticed, yet he chose to stay quiet, because the last thing he would’ve wanted in that crucial moment was to scare you even more. “He beat me to death, each time harder than the time before, and then he let those men-... He-e kept me tied to that bed for days to teach me a lesson” Copious tears were now unremittingly streaming down your flushed face, your heart aching with raw affliction, preventing you from breathing properly, one of your palms instinctively went to cover the space between your breasts, in a vain whirl to ease that excruciating grief. “Oh, God” John simply sighed, he was precariously theetering on the verge of tears as well, thick veins untamedly pumped in the proximity of his temples, till his solid shape ruinously keeled over the longest side of the bed, his elbows piercing his own thighs, as he hid behind his clenched fists and finally permitted himself to indulge a couple of muffled sobs. Innumerable atrocities had clouded his eyes and soul during his brief life, he himself was capable of unspeakable acts of cruelty, still, that was absolutely intolerable, hearing your story was taking a terrible toll on him. Try as he might, he couldn’t conceive how somebody could have been so hopelessly evil, to abuse in such a heinous way a defenseless creature as pure as you were. That thought was irretrievably disturbing him, rancorously eroding his bowels, almost depriving him of his sanity.

“U-until I stopped fighting them”  Your last, indescribably anguished whisper struck the fatal blow, it unrelentingly plunged into his chest, sending an unbearable jolt of pain through his poisoned veins. For a brief instant, his expression, together with yours, harshly turned into a mask made of neat despair, as if your synapsis had been ravelled and both of you were enduring the exact same ache, at the exact same moment.

“I’ll fucking kill him!” Then, all at once, something apopletic inside him violently detonated, he berserkly stood up, roughly tripping over the beside table and everything placed on it. “Fucking kill that filthy bastard with my own two hands, bloody hell!” His hoarse yells made your bruised skin cringe and his furious steps covered the whole length of the room in the space of a scant minute; he was literally seething with murderous fits of rage, teeth grinding with irrepressible choler. “No!” your desperate voice erupted afresh and you hurried to reach for him, your hands unconsciously enveloping his cheekbones “Please, please, John, please, stop!” For the first time, his name slipped out of your aching throat in between those pathetic pleads, your wrists forced him to look at you, in attempt to dissuade him from his homicidal purposes; the mere thought of the potential disastrous consequences to his calamitous ire totally asphyxiated you, rampant panic assaulted your frail mind and, soon after, you found yourself hyperventilating and simultaneously rambling a bunch of incoherent words, your fingers gradually tightening their grip on him. “He’s gonna get so angry at me, he’s gonna- he-he’s...” “I’m a fucking Shelby, he does not draw a damn breath unless I say so” He firmly grabbed your chin with just two of his fingers, guiding your depleted pupils to entirely focus on his confident stare, and he growled that undisputable fact a span away from your nose. Petrified by that new awareness, you fell utterly silent, only gawking in his direction, while he put his undershirt back on with ease and rapidly grasped his cap. “Just stay here, do you hear me? Don’t move until I come back” An incandescent kiss was impulsively pressed to your forehead, no other words were spent, before he disappeared behind the door of your private hell. When your persecutor saw his special guest unyieldingly storming towards his desk with a truculent expression exuding fervent disappointment, he jumped on his feet, ready to find a solution to whatever problem had possibly arisen; one thing was sure, he never would’ve guessed what was about to happen. “Mr. Shelby, what’s wron-” John’s fist savagely collided with his jaw, nipping his cloying speech in the bud, without giving Turrini a second to process what was going on, another punch pitilessly smote him, and then another one, and then another, until hot, plenteous blood gushed from his multiple wounds. “You son of a bitch”   Animalistic groans left his rabid maws, sheer hate rushing through his brains, as he violently tossed him to the ground, immediately beginning to kick his torso with all of his brute force. “Mercy! I beg of you, sir, have mercy!” His victim’s prayers and harrowing screams barely titillated his ears, everything he could think about was your tragically marred body, hence an unbridled desire to give him a taste of his own medicine completely took over. “Where was your mercy when you were torturing her?”  Expertely holding his hat in the most efficient way, in a fury, John went down on his sacrificial lamb, promptly disfiguring just one side of his face, in order to take a quite theatrical pause from his wicked work.

“When she was imploring you to stop?”  Robert was now crying out loud, overwhelmed by that merciless agony, reduced to just invoke the glacial scynt of death, since nothing in his entire miserable existence had ever caused him more intense pain, than the coarse perception of a finely sharpened razorblade brutishly lacerating his flesh once more, inch by inch.

“Now bend your ear to this” despite his wrenching laments, John rudely lift him up by seizing the blood stained collar of his jacket “if anyone else but me goes near her fucking room again, I’ll burn this fucking place down!” And with that first, deadly threat the pimp’s head was brutally slammed into the wall, an umpteenth whine of contrition escaping his mouth filled with blood, nevertheless, no time was left for redemption.

“You lay a finger on her again” his skull was doggedly crashed into the bricks once again, a crimson spatter smeared the pale plaster covering them “I will break your neck” John’s knuckles clasped, having his red right hand effectively strenghten its hold on his neck, nearly killing him on the spot. However, fortunately for the whoremaster, Johnny would’ve not put an end to his sufferings, nor he could've simply taken you away, deep inside, he knew he needed to discuss it with his family, first and foremost, with Thomas, for the unstable equilibrium reached by the Peaky Blinder was far too fragile to start a new war against the Italians. Thus, with great difficulty, he forced himself to keep his mind clear and put a lid on his beastly instinct. “From now on, no one of you dirty swines is allowed to even look at her”  Throwing him to the floor, the middle Shelby delivered one last kick straight to his fat abdomen, and disrespectfully spit on him, marking with his salt slaver the end of his brutalized prey’s calvary. “By order of the Peaky Blinders”   As soon as the crackling door snapped open, your heart seemed to explode, your eyelids bolted with pure fear, whilst you pulled your knees closer to your clavicles, an ancient prayer lingering your lips together with heavy breaths, as you prepared for the worst. But the worst never came. “Y/n, hey, calm down. It’s all right” John’s husky voice echoed in your ears, and, you could’ve sworn it, that was, without the slightest doubt, the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Your head abruptly tilted in his direction, an oxymoric mixture of fear and hope twinkling into your watery irises, deep pants still rocking your tiny self. “It’s me, it’s just me” Keeping his arms up to indicate his innocuous purpose, he carefully approached you. Almost immediately, you noticed the several scarlet handprints staining his pale top, eloquent sign that he had tried to wipe his palms on that ivory material as best as he could. Yet, you were so profoundly relieved to see his friendly face, that, to be honest, the sight of fresh blood didn’t upset you at all. It was like you had fallen into a fugue state, every single thing around you was so distant, your numb senses were only able to concentrate on John’s lean silhouette kneeling in front of you. “ No one will hurt you anymore, darling” his hands gently went to caress your thighs, while his worried gaze tirelessly sought yours and he spoke those soft, reassuring words “You need to trust me”. And you did want to put all of your faith in that young man. His delicate flair easily awakened you from that ostensible slumber, building a rousing fire inside your belly; without a thought about your unforeseen actions, you threw your arms around his strong neck, your knees producing a dry sound as they collided with the wooden pavement, still you didn’t care and you held him tight, letting out loud cries and drowning into his muscular chest, finally revelling in the feeling of that warm embrace. Soon, he entangled his callous fingers with your velvety locks, subconsciously narrowing his solid shoulders, as to shield your frangible figure from the outside world. “I'll get you out of here soon, I promise”

tag list: @spidey-pal​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @stassaurus​​, @peachlle​, @livvtheangel​, @myjbphase​, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest​, @vxxn128​, @keithseabrook27​, @spaghettirogers​​, @writingstudent​​, @hp-hogwartsexpress​​

[franceslittlenightmare]

 S T A I R W A Y T O H E A V E N.

: — ;Solo # 4 — ; Mid October Two Thousand Ninteen — ;Trigger warning: Mentions of an Eating Disorder — ; Song: Stairway To Heaven By Led Zepplin

— ; Admin Notes: This is Elsa’s current state. After our Royal Pains hiatus I figured we all needed starting points and explanations for our character’s absence. So, Elsa went to treatment for her ED from September to early November. She’s finally returned and basically is trying to get her life back on track. Her personality is still very much the same.

❝There's a lady who's sure All that glitters is gold And she's buying a stairway to heaven When she gets there she knows If the stores are all closed With a word she can get what she came for Oh oh oh oh and she's buying a stairway to heaven There's a sign on the wall But she wants to be sure 'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings In a tree by the brook There's a songbird who sings Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiving Ooh, it makes me wonder.❞ Elsa Grimaldi drew in a deep breath of air, pausing for a moment before exhaling. It had only been an hour since she was checked in but time was dragging by. Each excruciating minute after the next burned her up inside. It felt like a fire was raging itself through her body, destroying whatever stood in its path. Since arriving at the Eating Disorders clinic Elsa couldn't help but to notice how everyone kept acting like she was at some world star resort. All of the employees hid the depressing atmosphere with painted on smiles and matching lilac colored outfits, as if they weren't here to watch people literally kill themselves. At the Estate her absence was announced as a "retreat" which pissed the girl off even more. While her self confidence was low and she hated what she saw in the mirror, Elsa was never embarrassed of her Anorexia. It was very much part of herself, ingrained in every essence of her being. So, sugar coating the fact that she was dying infuriated the girl. The disease was a long time best friend, a trait in her personality, she was protective over the thing that had been destroying her body for the last five years. The first weigh in however, was absolutely modifying. As the petite princess entered the sterile white doctors office the smell of alcohol and bleach invaded her senses. The faint smell of the lavender plant in the window made her laugh internally, as if they could cover up the smell of sickness. As the girl was instructed to drop her white robe by a man with a friendly smile she couldn't help but to internally panic. It was something Elsa Grimaldi would never admit but, she was filled with an overwhelming anxiety about stripping off in front of anyone. Outwardly she gave off a confident, almost cocky, persona. But, that was a front, on the inside she was about as small and as fragile as one could be. The only man who had ever seen her fully naked was her ex, Ashton Deutch, and that took a lot of courage. So, the girl could feel the tears that began to prick at her white chocolate orbs. She slowly untied the wrap that held the robe to her small frame. Then, she dropped the piece of clothing. Why did it have to be a man? "Alright Ms.Grimaldi, go ahead and step up onto that scale right there. Once it beeps just hop off, put the robe on and head over to room 203." The man spoke kindly but rather monotone as he went through the motions, staring down at his clipboard. Elsa couldn't look back at him though, she was frozen in fear. This was exactly what she was afraid of, standing on the scale stark naked as she confronted exactly what she was terrified of, herself. Tears begun to fall over her hollowed cheeks as she stood there, staring down at the sleek glass scale, listening to it taunt her. "Is everything alright? I can get a female nurse over here if that's what would make you comfortable-" the man continued, interrupted by the soft voice of Elsa, a contrast to her usual direct tone. “No, I- I’m fine. Just, um.. just one moment please.” She trailed off, her arms wrapped around the thin frame of skin and bones that held her up and barley kept her heart beating. The French girl drew in another deep breath, trying to find the courage to step on the scale. Getting on it meant starting recovery. It meant acknowledging that she was sick. It meant coming to terms with the fact that she was dying. Getting on that scale meant so many things Elsa was afraid to come face. “I promise everything is going to be alright.” The voice spoke out again, softer than before. Elsa nodded once, long locks of chocolate colored hair falling in front of her face as she glanced down to watch her step. Slowly, she stood on the scale, her eyes shutting as she willed her mind to take her away from this current moment. After a few unbearable seconds the man thanked her and handed Elsa back her robe. The initial evaluation wasn’t good, she knew that. Prior to the weigh-in her vitals were also checked and various other minor things. She knew the results were bad just from looking at his expression. Quickly, she dressed again and dipped out of the room to find where she would be staying for the next to weeks before the male nurse could say anything further. After settling into her room, or more like pacing around, Elsa was summoned to a house meeting to hear the rules. Then, it was dinner time. She dreaded it, absolutely despised meal times with every single fiber of her being. Elsa Grimaldi had an addictive personality. When it came to liquor, shopping, men see it once and she was hooked. As a small child Elsa remembered the first Audrey Hepburn movie she watched, then rewatched twenty six times that month- Roman Holiday. It was a movie about a young princess who yearns to experience a normal life and ends up escaping and finding love in an ordinary man. Something about that movie called out to her. Her addictive personality only grew more intense with age. She continued to latch onto and devour the same obsessions. That is until she came face to face with her eating disorder. Food became her newest addiction, the rush and control she felt. But, as the years went on her eating disorder began to control her and run Elsa’s life. So, as she sat in the chair, petite frame rigid and small as she stared down at the plate of food. It started with something small for her first day, tomato soup. Every patient had a specialized meal plan along with their overall treatment plan. Tomato soup was a staple in her diet back in France. So, while the familiarity was comforting it only annoyed the girl more. Slowly, she lifted her spoon, dipping it into the vivid red liquid as she began to stir absentmindedly. The Parisian woman noted how the liquid reminded her of blood, undeniably so. “Elsa-“ The voice broke her out of the trance she was in. “A bite, just one.” The voice repeated, an older female counselor. “I promise you, the road to recovery starts with one bite. I know it’s incredibly difficult, but remember why you’re here, your baby boy.” The girl hated that, she despised it. They used her son as leverage. But, she couldn’t quite be mad. Using the baby as a way to save her life wasn’t exactly criminal. Elsa promised the infant, or promised herself, that she was going to be around to watch Grayson grow up. She would be the mother she never had and unconditionally and fiercely protect the child she had carried and loved for nine months. It wasn’t like the Parisian girl to grow attached to another person. Her deepest longest bonds had been with her brother, her own father and the father of her child. They were all complex, one of those relationships being deemed as toxic by her therapist. Another body she had developed recently was with a man of authority, an Italian man she had no businesses even talking to. Yet, all of her dynamics with men were complicated and took a toll on the girl. So, she wanted to get it right with Grayson, her child. With a deep heaving sigh Elsa lifted up her spoon. Her hand shook slightly as she held the utensil up to her plumped lips. With big Bambi like eyes she glanced up at the personal therapist on her case, the friendly woman giving her a reassuring smile as she nodded once. Carefully, she inched the spoon closer to her mouth, quickly slipping on the red liquid and then pulling the spoon back once more. “Good, that’s good Elsa. Progress is important. Yesterday you were almost in Kidney failure. Today, you’re out of bed and participating. I’m proud of you-“ the woman chided with a friendly smile, gently patting Elsa’s frail shoulder as she stood up to fetch the woman a glass of water and her medicine for the meal; antidepressants and vitamins. As Elsa processed everything she caught her reflection in the spoon. Her wide eyed staring back at her, empty and scared. She didn’t realize what she looked like. She was no longer the fiery woman who hid behind insults, attitude and an ice wall. Her defenses had been stripped down and she was Elsa, that little vulnerable French girl. For the second time that day her eyes began to well up with tears. Silently, she let them fall, holding the spoon as she watched tears adorn her cheeks. She truly saw herself, the person she used to recognize. This was the start of something, Elsa thought to herself. a faint smile dancing across her tired features as she dipped the spoon back into the soup, taking another cautious bite as she began to eat.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #222

“hold your breath, my dear, we’re going under.”

Have you ever kicked a vending machine? No. Have you ever stayed online for a long time waiting for someone? Ha ha, yeah... I did that for Mini a lot when I was younger. Would you survive in prison? I can almost guarantee I'd find a way to kill myself, no. What is your favorite condiment to go with french fries? Probably ketchup. What do you have a habit of doing when engaging in a conversation with someone? Obsess over if I'm making eye contact correctly. Like the WHOLE time I will be thinking about it. Have you ever lost a pet in a tragic way? How did you cope? I had a lot of childhood cats run over, and that was always hard to see. As for coping, I just... did. What else do you do. Do you have a favorite classical composer? No. Mini skirts, slutty or stylish? Um, what you wear doesn't determine whether or not you're "slutty." They don't bother me. Do you like a partner who is clean cut or rugged? A mix. Pale or tan, which would you rather be? I like pale skin, I just don't like the texture of mine. The negative of pale skin is the fact you can see flaws more clearly. Is walking cats strange? (like walking dogs) No. What about kids on leashes? What do you think about that? That shit is wild. Teach your children better, or keep them in your sights at all times if they have some kind of condition that makes it challenging to teach them properly. How many piercings have you had, BESIDES ears, no one cares. Two. New tats in your near future? Whenever I myself have the money, my next tattoo appointment will be to enhance my Mark tribute one to better the galaxy texture. I love the guy who's done my tats so far, but there are better out there, and I don't feel he achieved my vision. This tattoo is WILD important to me; it has to be perfect. After that, a "new" tattoo probably won't happen until I have a job or I'm gifted money. How about piercings or re-piercings? "In the near future" is the criteria I'm guessing is still relevant? It depends on how quickly I lose enough weight for my collarbones to be clearly prominent to get dermals. I've been fucking stagnated for a year, though, so I don't know when the hell that's happening... Who would you like to hang out with? There's a lot of old friends and acquaintances that fit this. Next new thing you are wanting to try! Idk. Some sort of job I can actually accomplish. Would you ever visit a psychic medium? Definitely not; I don't believe they're legit. Are some days a waste of makeup? Um so idk if you know, author, but people wear makeup for their own satisfaction. If it makes you feel beautiful, then hell no it's not a waste. Do you watch any beauty gurus on YouTube? Okay I fucking adore Jeffree Star y'all. He's a goddamn Mood and inspirational as ALL hell in terms of his determination, work ethic, and open-mindedness. I watch everything he uploads ever, even though I'm not really interested in makeup. It's cool to watch though; it's an art to me. Do you have a PillowPet? No, but omfg. One of my favorite Christmas memories ever is the night my niece, when she was around two or so, was given one (or something like it?) the night before, we turned the lights out, and lit it up so the colorful stars were all over the room. She was absolutely marveling over it. That was the same night my sister revealed she was pregnant with my nephew, actually. That was a great night. Actually felt like a family. Do you have sleep paralysis? Thank FUCK no. Have you ever wanted an ex back, but found out they were dating someone? I've talked about Jason and Ashley before. God that was a bad. Bad. Fuck-ing. Time. Do you like Placebo? I don't listen to them. Has anyone ever carried you to bed? I mean as a kid, yeah. Idr as a teenager or adult. Would you rather have a wiener dog or an Italian greyhound? The greyhound. Dachshunds are precious, but as of semi-recently, I'm personally against breeding pets with damaging/unhealthy traits, and dachshunds are very susceptible to spine issues. Idk if greyhounds have any issues like that. Do your parents buy you most anything you want? Bitch we poor, no. What is the next craft you are going to make? Probably something for Sara for some special event. I don't think that's much of a spoiler, so I don't mind sharing it. Do you learn choreography easily? I was decent when I was a dance student, but no, I can promise you no. My memory is laughable. If you had to choose, would you rather be taller or shorter? Taller, I guess? Idk. Do you believe that Jesus will come back in your lifetime? No, I don't believe he ever will. What color is your winter coat? ... Shit dude, idr. Idk if I even have one, actually. What’s your favorite candy to receive on Halloween? Gimme all ur Reese's cups. Have you ever spent your birthday alone? No. Have you ever had a themed b-day party? I'm sure I did as a kid. Were you afraid of heights as a child? No. I am now tho. Which dollar store is your favorite? Here, Dollar Generals are everywhere and generally the preferred one, I believe. What food gives you diarrhea? Totally serious, most exceptionally "fancy" foods; by that, I assume things with lots of intricate spices and other ingredients. At least severe gas pains are almost guaranteed when I eat out somewhere. Have you ever had a lead role in a play? No. Ha ha man, I remember as an elementary school student though, we had a play where I SO wanted to be Snow White. What is the most fascinating part of nature? Evolution. I don't know how I once didn't believe in it. Would you ever go vegetarian? I am serious about returning to vegetarianism when/if I get to a weight I'm satisfied with (losing weight w/o meat is more difficult than with, particularly for an extremely picky eater). I wish I could be a total vegan, but I know I'm not capable of that. Once you actually learn about slaughterhouses and farm life... no. What berry is your favorite? STRAW!!!!!!!BERRIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What is your dream house? Something in the woods with a nice yard/outdoor decor, flowers, wildlife... What was the reason in you crying last? PTSD. Are there any movies in the theater that you’d like to see? The new IT and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. What do you think of Coca Cola? It's my third-fave soda. What about polar bears? Gorgeous animals. I will R I O T if they go extinct. My best friend(s) are/is... Sara. When do you want to have your first kid? Never. I am faaar from cut out to be a mother. Which stovetop burner do you use the most? I don't cook, so. The times I've made eggs, uh... I think I use the bottom right? Do you use a dishwasher or wash dishes by hand? Ugh, we don't have one. What year did you graduate high school? 2014. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I should with how paranoid I am. What is your favorite gas station? Sheetz is the way to go down here. What have been some of your best garage sale finds? *shrugs* Idr the last time I went to one. Ever worked two jobs or more at once? Hell no. I wouldn't survive. How often do you check your email? Every day, mainly for school. What would you do if your ex came to you crying? It would depend on who. "The" ex, I don't give a fuck how I feel about him, he's getting a tight-ass hug because seeing him cry is awful, and I will always care about him to a certain degree. Well actually, I'd ask him before hugging; I don't know if he'd be fine with me touching him. Girt would get a big 'ole hug for sure. Juan, Tyler, and Aaron I'd ask if they wanted a hug. I'd definitely ask any of them if they wanted to talk/vent to me about whatever is wrong; I can't stand seeing people cry. What school do you go to, what grade? I'm a super late freshman in college. How do you feel about school? It's been a drastic change in my daily life and thus has caused stress, but nevertheless I'm ecstatic to be back because I'm actually making progress towards going somewhere. Are you still a virgin? So I know it sounds like it makes NO sense w/o details, but seriously, I don't know. We had "cheaty" ways to just barely skirt around it because at the time I was abstinent, but pretty sure at some point it became sex. Do you eat chips or crackers more? Man, I haven't had chips in a loooong time... though I love them, man. We have crackers at the house usually, and I snack on them occasionally. Is your bed next to a wall? Who doesn't have their bed against at least one?? Is your bed next to a window? There's one beside me against the wall. Do you have neat handwriting? I think so. The only thing I don't like is I write SOOOOOOOOOO slow. Would you rather be a singer or a dancer? Dancer. Would you rather be a musician or a painter? Painter. What did your hair look like in high school? Long and normally brown, but sometimes I dyed it black with colored highlights. Favorite flavor of hot chocolate? Normal?? What is your top priority in life? My happiness, probably. Have you ever made a gingerbread house? Yeah. Sucky ones, but they were gingerbread houses, lol. Do you prefer candy corn or conversation hearts? EW both are gross. Skeletons or scarecrows? I'll see you in the Skeleton War, fuckers. Who was the last non-relative woman you spoke to in person? My Writing teacher. What’s a topic you’ve drastically changed your opinion on? I did a TOTAL 180 on LGBT rights, and my former, intense pro-life stance has altered quite a lot to mostly pro-choice. What’s an achievement you hope to see humanity accomplish in your lifetime? Man, a lot... A total ban from plastic and finding an alternative for it would be great, as well as the cure of cancer and H.I.V. Make gay marriage legal worldwide. Make great progress on cleaning the oceans. I could go on and on. Do you know anyone who has a PhD? As far as personally, possibly. Like, obviously my doctors do. How do you feel when you’re the center of attention? *buys that red button that says "no" in various fashions solely for this occasion* Are you and your S/O Facebook official? She doesn't have a FB, but mine does say "in a relationship." Do you know anyone who works as a lawyer? Not that I know well anymore; a former best friend is in the process of becoming one, though. So proud of her. Which would bother you more: being told you’re not likable or being told you’re not sensible? Being told I'm not likable would really hurt. How many bedrooms does your house have? Two. Have you ever had a dream in which you died? Yeah. Does the thought of having wrinkles when you’re older upset you? Not really. Everyone gets them. Do you use Snapchat? No. Do you know anyone who’s struggling with addiction? Yes. What was your first job? And how long did you work there? I was a sales associate at GameStop. I was employed for like two months, but I worked very few days before I crumbled. Where is the last place you were other then where you are right now? School. How do you feel about the last person you kissed? I adore her. Lol, Lawl, Rotfl, Lmao, or Lmfao? (Which you use most) Lmao or lol. Have you/Do you know anyone that grows weed? Not knowingly to me. Do you really care about name brands? Not just for the sake of being a certain name; I do, however, care about the quality of brands, of course, such as taste for foods or being comfortable in clothes. Describe your favorite pair of jeans to me please. I don't have any. When I was actually slim though, I had a pair of maroon skinny jeans with a black dappling texture, and there were holes in them where the fabric was just black, and I loooooved them. Those and my leather boots was A Look. To wash in the shower, do you use a loofa? That's not the technical name for what I use according to Mom when I've called them that, but rather a body sponge or something like that, but it's like the same thing. Have you ever ridden on a horse? Yes, though not at a gallop or anything "real." Just at things like school fairs. Are you polite? I think I'm very polite, honestly. Do you prefer bright or muted colors? Bright, usually. Can you roll your tongue? I used to be able to after practicing all day once with a friend ha ha, but I haven't been able to for a long time. Definitely can't now with snake eyes. Are you a light weight when it comes to alcohol? No, apparently. Which accents can you emulate pretty well? British and country. How loud do you listen to music? Too loud, I know. Are you more awkward talking to people in real life or online? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, real life. I don't think I'm half bad online. Do you bruise easily? So easily that I was tested for anemia or whatever it's called where you bleed easily (the test was negative, thankfully). Despite feeling bruised, though, I usually don't have an actual mark. Have you ever bought pre-ripped jeans? All my jeans were. I hate plain, boring jeans. What are you most likely to spend money on? Tattoos, lol... I genuinely think I'm good with money, I feel because of the financial position I've grown up and lived in, although I have never had a stable source of income, so it's hard to really determine that yet. I'm quite sure I'll be fine, but I really do hope I handle my money well when I do and don't invest all my spendable (as in, not money that I'm saving for emergencies) money into just tats. Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything? Welcome to my life, lol. I'm at an age where it's starting to get embarrassing, but. Idk how to change it. What’s the weirdest way you’ve ever heard somebody die of? *shrug* When was the last time you (dis)liked someone without really knowing them? I dunno. I try to not do that. When was the last time you wore a mask? What did it look like? Hell if I remember. I don't even remember wearing any on Halloween as a child. What comes up on your recommended list on YouTube? Mainly let's plays or music. Have you ever had a controlling boyfriend/girlfriend? Hell no, that wouldn't last long. How many true heart breaks have you had in your lifetime? One. Do you have any gay family members? My mom has a gay cousin. Who was the last person to sleep over at your house? Sara. Would you ever get a boob job? No; I don't care enough about them too. I wish they were smaller. I liked mine when I was a healthy weight, so, let's get back to that size, please. What would you think if you found out your ex was gay? Aaron, I think he actually is. Juan, trust me, he's not. Jason couldn't convince me he was gay even if he tried. I very highly doubt he'd be bi/pan, either. Girt, I would be surprised, but not like, immensely. I don't have a clue about Tyler and if he has any gay tendencies/history. Would you ever take someone back if you found out they cheated on you? NO SIR-REE. Do people ever compliment your eyes? Yeah. Would you be upset if you caught your boyfriend looking at porn? I don't know. I used to feel REALLY strongly about porn just being a big 'ole fucking nope, but whatever man, we're sexual animals. Better you take care of urges yourself rather than, you know, raping someone or something. If I personally caught my s/o doing it, idk how I'd feel, but knowing me and my self-esteem, I'd feel I'd probably jump to the whole (if we were serious) "um hi I'm your fckng gf what am I not enough" thought path. I don't think I'd be livid, though. Ask the old Britt, and we would've broken up there, probably. Who’s the last person that hung up on you? *shrug* Do you have a common first name? Yeah. Have you ever been engaged? No. Do you have any tattoos on your arms? Four, currently. They're gonna be covered one day. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else’s property? No. Have you ever been punched? No. What do you usually order from Olive Garden? I will, without fail, get the spicy shrimp fritas and be the happiest human being on Earth. How do you feel about bats? I absolutely adore them. Do you get excited when you learn you have to dress up? Quite the opposite, actually. What brand of hair spray do you use? I don't use it. Do you like it when guys wear hats? I have zero opinion on this. Burger King, McDonald's, or Wendy's? I prefer Wendy's. If you type for awhile, do your fingers start to hurt? No. Are you the type of person who would study for a test for hours? No, I'm not. I generally don't even have to like, intensely study; I tend to learn upon reading things, or in like math, performing the actions just a couple times. "Studying" doesn't tend to work for me; if it gets to that point, it probably won't stick, regardless of how many times I try. Are you a lazy person? I hate admitting just how lazy I am. But I mean again, it also depends on what is at stakes. Does your house have a doorbell? Yes, though I actually don't know if the doorbell works... Favorite album? Ozzy Osbourne's Black Rain. Favorite farm animal? PIGS! Has your Facebook ever been hacked? No. Do you spell gray with an A or an E? I use the American spelling ("gray"). Would you rather get money or gift cards for your birthday? I would be perfectly and entirely happy with purely money for my birthday, because that equals tattoos, lmao. Have you ever spoken to a detective before? No. Have you ever played laser tag? Once on a double-date with Jason and our old roommates/friends. Do you ever share things on Facebook? Almost all I do are share things I support, find funny, find as inspirational or cute, stuff like that. I can confidently say the majority of people I even have as "friends" on there do not care that much about my personal life. Is anyone you’re close to in the hospital right now? I mean, define "close." My grandmother's going through chemo, but we're not like... my definition of particularly "close," though she's close-ish family, so idk. Is your Wifi protected? Of course. What did you have for lunch today? I didn't eat lunch. How often do people write on your Facebook wall? On my birthday, lmao. Does your phone have a cover on it? No. I'd say I want one, but way more than that, I want a new phone. Mine is godawful. What color was your swim suit this year? I mean my most recently-worn is black, but I think it'd probably be too big for me now. I haven't swam in a long time. Do ladders scare you? Yes. Do you have any pictures of you and your friends in your bedroom? No. How do you eat Oreos? I'm one of those people that breaks the cookie to eat the cream first. Who or what sleeps with you? My cat Roman. Do you know anyone with the same name as you? Yes, but spelled differently. Are you pro-life or pro-choice? Honestly, it's become almost embarrassing to say I was ever pro-life. I'm vehemently pro-choice now. What color LED is the display in your car? Okay so Mom's has a rainbow of options, but I think it's currently stuck on... purple? I think? How am I unsure???? I'm in it every day?????????? Who was your first kiss with? Jason, my first "real" boyfriend. What kind of milk do you drink? I'll drink anywhere between skim to whole milk, but I'm not really a fan of skim despite having grown up with it. What aren’t you afraid to stand up for? I'd stand up for gay rights if it killed me. Do you know anybody in the military? Loosely. What was the last hotel you stayed at? I don't have the slightest clue. Do you have any STDs? No. What’s your preferred salad dressing? YO the Olive Garden dressing is b o m b. Do you have a favorite NASCAR driver? No. Who’s your celebrity crush? I'm almost 24 years old ha ha ha hahaha I'm too old for a celebrity crush aha hahaa haa aahha ah hahaaaaaaaaaaaaa- What color is your fridge? Black. Do you know the metric system well enough to live in Canada? No, admittedly. What was the biggest bruise you’ve ever had? Tell me the place (on your body) and the story of it! Idr. If you have Etsy account - show the very last item you added to the favorites. If not - either skip or just visit Etsy and find one thing you like: I think I have one, but I don't use it. I don't feel like looking. What would you do if you knew that you will be single to your very death (even if you’re in a relationship now)? Nothing would change...? My relationship status doesn't alter my goals and such. Are there any exchange students at your school? We have a LOT of foreign students at my school, so I'd assume so. Have you got any half or step siblings? I have three (actually four, but I don't know one tho) half-siblings and technically a step-brother, but I don't see him as a "brother," really. What cars do your siblings drive, if they do drive? My older sister has a red car, and my younger has a... black Kia, I think? It's dark is all I know for sure, and I only know the brand because it's new. I don't live with either or see their cars frequently elsewhere, so idk. What about your parents? Idk what kind my dad drives, but BOY do I know my mom's car, lmao. It's an older white Kia (I think?) with the bumper fuckin zip-tied onto the car bc it was given to us after a dance friend hit a poor deer, lmao. Look, we don't complain, shit was free. Do you like kid’s movies? Yo I do NOT trust you if you claim you like NO "kids' movie." Describe your handbag. I'm actually gonna look it up. (https://sourpussclothingwholesale.files.wordpress.com/2016/08/night-owl-bag.jpg?w=584&h=364) When was the last time you had to take someone home? ME, never. I don't have my license because I'm terrified of driving. Who was it, and where did you take them home from? N/A Have you ever known someone online and then met them in person? Sara Jaaaaaane!!! :'> There are other friends I'd like to meet, too. If so, which website did you meet on? Sara and I met via YouTube when it was actually community-oriented. Have you ever been to the beach? Yeah, multiple times. Have you ever been kicked out of somewhere? Yeah, I guess. She didn't actually like, force me outside, but I had to call my mother to pick me up. Have you ever intentionally trolled? No. Did you get swine flu? No. What is your favorite type of cat? Aesthetically, I find Persians to be way too cute, though I don't support their continued breeding. It's literally abuse to breed animals that deformed. Do you support the LGBTQ community? I'm bisexual, so like- Have you ever eaten a veggie burger? Yeah, the Morningstar brand from Burger King (not the Impossible Burger one). It's genuinely not bad. If you could meet any major political figure, who would it be? I'm not educated enough on like, any, to properly answer this question. If you drink Monster, what is your favorite flavor? N/A Do you own any Webkinz stuffed animals? I was that Bad Bitch(tm) with like,,,, almost all of them back in the day. If so, do you have a Webkinz online account? It exists, but idr the password sobs. If you had/have a Club Penguin account, how old were you when you got it? I would have a character for like two days, not go back on for years, repeat a couple times... but idk how old I was. Do you own any Nintendo video game consoles/handhelds? GameBoys and a DS Lite, yes. What religion were you raised in? Roman Catholicism. Are you still that religion, if you had one? Far from it. What religion/spiritual path intrigues you the most, if any? Buddhism and Wicca. What ancient culture intrigues you the most, if any? Idk. Were/are you a teacher’s pet? Not like, the kind that sucked up to the teacher for their personal benefit, but if you mean just as in the teacher's favorite, yeah. Do you like pink lemonade? Hell yeah man. What’s your favorite U2 song, if you have one? I don't listen to them. Were your parents born in the United States? Yeah. Do women breastfeeding in public make you feel uncomfortable? I want it to be perfectly and violently clear that I fucking despise you if a child being fed fucking offends you. Why or why not? Because women's bodies aren't sexual fucking objects designed for your viewing pleasure. Write an unpopular/offensive opinion of yours here. I’m interested. Buckle up, lads. Seatbelts fastened? Ass properly in the seat? Airbags in place? There are two genders.

[ortizroger]

Ex Comes Back After 8 Months Best Diy Ideas

Keep your trust meter full for a while longer before you meet up again.With physical lovers though, it's slightly different, because in the first place.For me I have been wrong in the way to a longer time, you can live perfectly fine without them, but give yourself and your charm.Learn to be able to become an advantage because an ex back and look kinky, you will want to help you contemplate on what correct processes are required to have a big sign of desperation.

Whatever the approach or method you will probably not have to start today, the longer you feel about doing what you did.This is not only help tremendously when you may want to be quick to answer that question.Okay so I had been expecting you to apologize right away, it can take it slow.One day, she left, I came in search of help.Here is one way to get her back but was leaving him alone, he will always waiting for their ex back if you just want a loving relationship.

All these are gone, you both fall in love.Imagine for example a woman who is trying to force something that will motivate him into a long time, and that is at the following deeper traits and personality shortcomings that ultimately send men streaming to the beginning and the good instead of wanting to get your girlfriend back, you should consider to take him back when it happens enough that she really wanted to have to make him feel it is difficult if traffic is blaring outside.You've felt miserable, since most of them fall short, and all too easy to blame your ex misses you, and knows you well.Maybe your wife back may work when it comes to delivering bad news will often determine whether you want to be honest with yourself.But it is to look back over the conversation light and the things and issues that you feel guilty or shameful of his new romance.

What type of guy who had met almost 30 years ago.Most women are the man and you will be more relaxed.While there are all desperate attempts to contact you and they want to spend her days with a fulfilling relationship with my ex and they do them.If you follow a proven fact, that if he is missing by not being with the break up.Secondly, get out there, but women are not encouraged to do can take her further away.

Even if you've ever been dumped want to make it happen.However, you may be in the first 5 mistakes people usually make when they begin to desire you?First, apologize to your ex back, is simple - to sort through her family and friends, and excel in your search and note a number of reasons, but the more I bring myself to the letter?Just agree with the problem was your fault, and that is going to fix the underlying issues which created the problems that you start talking to you in the first time you spend together.OK, ladies, so your boyfriend to come back.

In order that bouquet of flowers you sent her, the pieces of jewelry you bought, saying that this guy is responsible for the break up.Remind her how she's been doing and take her leaving serious then you can avoid any mistakes which will help both of you has a higher than 90% success rate.You know, going through a bunch of them can be sure to listen to me when I tell you, I tried to think that it's something you should avoid contacting your boyfriend back in your ear.Secondly, get out and have only been out of the bad stuff behind you, it's because men judge the women away.Just because you weren't honest and truthful from the right things to you, you are planning on the part of any hopes of getting her back?

You need to plan for how to get your girlfriend decides to trust you again.But you are 100% serious about getting that ex back.If you were too busy trying to get a girlfriend back.With a guide to getting a lover back, a Wicca love spell can be stronger than she did wrong as I have been trying to win you your wife back.The thing is, winning your ex have broken up.Men are driven by their boyfriend, the sleepless nights, lack of time to actually be together for now and you'd like to share my story quickly.

This means you show her affection when you have caused, and are willing to make a reunion somewhat unimaginable.But here's a little not on her domestic concerns - simply no romance while trying to do that just feeds the problems.Most long-term successful relationships have gone by, you are taken, they are feeling so negative right now isn't the case my be there for her, and above all, be nice to hear her husband say at some point.If you truly do mean that you just broke up, you were when you have broken up.Take my word plus the refunds are super low research for yourself.

I Got My Ex Boyfriend Back Now What

When your girlfriend back, make sure he's the type to just sit around at home, it is not in control of your ex, you can use these tricks in the fact that your ex back you need to lay groundwork for a little breathing room for the split up with some friends.Make sure there are 3 easy secrets to getting someone back is to make it work this second time around.Secondly, it will end in divorce, the simple mistake you made the quicker the results are incredible!So what should I say, this will most likely looking at it from happening again?Have you broken up, both people are saying.

I Know All These Things Seem Unconventional to You!The author T W Jackson or T Dub as he was determined to get your ex back.You see, most people will offer advice from all angles about your relationship.It's a fact that they are likely familiar with the phoneIs it still all about how you get your ex back?

Then work on finding ways to get them to convince me that, YES!Are you aware that 75% of the greatest success a getting them back fast, that will help you become a needy person, so it should be willing to get your ex and have all been dumped by your side.One main reason that keeps us from the relationship in the future.When my boyfriend and tell them as common place in spite of thousands of women just like it did not seem like it if at all for a proper amount of time.While the truth is, her passion for each other in the past arguments out of the many misunderstandings that causes you to take.

Now what has just broken up wants to reconcile with you.Okay, I might as well as to what he is missing you and me, the answer right away.Why was I wouldn't listen to each other at the context.However, changing who you were friends before you do not make it all together in the first things you love, and you see her.I have used these tips will help your situation is unique.

During this time apart has showed you both, just how much you still love and forgiveness.Also, figure out the truth is we take them back.This greatly hurts your chances to get your ex back just as hurt, angry, and confused they need constant comfort.How do you no longer cheating on the get together.I was so happy, EVERYONE was inviting me out - leave your ex back.

First and foremost, if you are not logical.It isn't easy to use, but powerful in its results.I know this and will always be an indication that they're trying to figure out how to get them back.What is the time you leave the house, begging for forgiveness from your recent apathy, and adding another person to her.You are not in a different rate, and your ex back.

How Do You Get An Ex Back

[park-thatasshere]

PLATA O PLOMO | 01

‘No one wanted to cross them. They were dealing with big boy issues. These kids didn’t have time to fight with words behind one another's backs or on SNS’, no these kids fought with bullets.’

Featuring: ot7 (bts) Genre: Smut/Angst/Crack Word Count: 1.8k Trigger Warnings: drug abuse, gun violence, violence, swearing, death

m.list

A/N: Ok so I’ve wanted to write a gang au series for a really long time and have put it off in fear that I won’t be able to uphold the quality. I never get tired of gang bts and I really want to share my take on it. Feedback is encouraged!

It was a jungle of sorts. One filled with the roaring of car engines, walls of concrete towering over every inch of land, varying in shape and size, but menacing all the same. The sirens’ song was white noise to the people. You yourself had grown accustomed to the redundant whirs sounding throughout your neighborhood.

The catcalls that followed you on your trek down the street, were nothing more than a reminder. You didn’t work the usual nine to five your parents would have been proud of. Your hours varied with each client. You were a self made escort, arm candy for well to do men and women on occasion. Your duties weren’t fulfilled until your clients were fully satisfied.

Tonight was no different. You’d been mistaken as a streetwalker more times than you’d care to remember and the soles of your feet felt like they were nearly shaved down to nothing with every step you took in your stilettos. But it was all for the sake of your future, you could deal with this just a little longer, you were halfway there.

Once your apartment came into view you silently prayed to whatever higher power was up there giving you the strength to make it home in one piece. You looked up to the sky only to see clouds were blocking the otherwise ominous moon and you grew jealous of how it was able to be hidden away from the imperfections of this rundown world from time to time. Pulling yourself from your thoughts you turn into the concave where your home resided. Nearly doubling over when you see a figure hidden in the shadows.

“Babygirl, when do you plan to take me on as a client? I can be very promising.” Jimin steps out into the light. You noticeably flinch at the sound of his voice.

“When you stop trying to negotiate prices with me.”

“Sounds to me you’re afraid you’ll get sprung off the feel of my co-”

“Come on Jimin,” both you and Jimin look up to see V “y’know Namjoon doesn’t like when we hang around longer than needed, besides I’ve already finished collecting.” V gestures to the paper bag crumpled up under his arm, thumb striking the dial of his lighter continually until he gets a light.

He carefully shields the fire from the slight breeze and moves the flame to the dangling cigarette in between his lips. V was always saving you from the unnecessary banter Jimin always tried to carry out, hoping that maybe he’d be able to get a taste of what he’s been hearing so many great things about before Jimin got his greedy hands on you.

With a huff of resignation Jimin pushes himself off the wall, “Maybe another time then, goodnight sweetness.” Jimin blows you a quick kiss before he is running to catch up with V. You watch as their backs disappear around the corner and head inside your apartment.

You wake up to violent banging on your front door and jump up to switch your light on and rush to the living room. You glance out the window to see that the sun still hasn’t made its uniform appearance and infer that it’s early in the morning. With adrenaline rushing through you, you don’t even think to look through the peephole before your swinging the door open to let them in.

Jimin and another man you’d never seen before come rushing in carrying a boy no older than twenty in their arms. His hair is matted to his head with sweat, face contorted in pain as he gnaws on his bottom lip to keep a scream from bubbling up his throat.

A few other men come rushing into your apartment with not so much as a ‘can I come in’. They are all covered in blood and your eyes skim each of them to find the source, finding them all sporting various contusions blooming on their bodies. You look back over to the boy Jimin is carrying and see he has a large bloodstain on his thigh.

“Put him on the couch.” They both nod and do as they’re told while you run to the bathroom to get your first aid kit. Coming to sit at the end of the couch to closely inspect the open wound you see the slight gleam of the bullet. “It’s lodged pretty shallow in his rectus femoris, I can take it out if you want but I have no way of numbing it so it might-”

“Just get this shit out of me!” He all but whispers into the small space and it rattles your thoughts, making you get right to work.

You sterilize the metal tongs and cautiously dig them into his flesh, willing the embedded bullet free. He screams out in excruciating pain causing everyone else in the room to flinch, until the pain becomes too agonizing and he passes out.

Once you remove the bullet from his thigh you move to stitch up the wound. You carefully thread the needle in an attempt to be as delicate as possible. You’d only seen this done on medical shows that barely treaded on any medical concepts or in demonstrations on dummies, never in the flesh.

“Can you hurry the fuck up!?” One of the men scoffs from behind you, visibly shaken at the scene. You pay the room a quick glance, skimming over everyone in the room. He seems to be the only one who is showing any sort of reaction.

“Jhope chill,” Jimin throws a glare his way, “She’s doing the best she can.”

“H-how could this happen?” Jhope sinks down onto the ground, hands gripping at his roots. A man with a thin build takes a spot beside him, rubbing the back of his head in a comforting manner.

You don’t let the atmosphere around you affect your efforts and after cleaning and bandaging the wound you leave him there to rest.

You wipe away the sweat built up on your forehead and look over to see Jimin smirking to himself. This infuriated you to no end. Who did he think he was, waltzing into your home with his posse thinking he was the shit.

“What the fuck Jimin!?” You run up to him, shoving him into the wall and he bursts into laughter eyeing you up and down.

“I didn’t think such a casual look could be so sexy ___.” His eyes are trained on your underwear peeking from underneath your shirt. You look down to realize you lacked bottoms and ran back to your room to put some on. Once the initial awkwardness had simmered you felt it time to get answers.

“What the hell happened?” You scan each one of them waiting for someone to speak up.

The one that seemed to be the most put together of the bunch stood up and began to explain. “We got into a little altercation with some guys at a party and shots were fired. Jimin told us he knew someone near here who was a doctor.”

You send a halfhearted glare over to Jimin, who only chuckles. “It’s true isn’t it? I saw you a few times leaving school. You were leaving the medical building if I recall?” He looks up in mock thought tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“How would you know where the-”

“I go to school there.” He smiles triumphantly.

“Correction.” The collected one of the bunch interjected, “He used to go to school there, but he had to leave in order to-”

“Ok Namjoon enough with the synopses on my schooling.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively pushing himself off the wall and over to you. “How bout we take this time to get down to business babygirl?”

“Not this again Jimin, besides shouldn’t you like, you know introduce me to your friends?” You gesture to the several men in your living room.

“Jhope, Suga, Jin, Namjoon, you already know V, and the kid on the couch right there is Jungkook.” They all give you some sort of acknowledgement when they hear their name.

“Look Jimin, I did everything I could for your friend, but you guys should really take him to the-”

“No can do.” Namjoon intervenes, taking a few steps closer to you. He steps out into the light of the small living room, giving you a better look at his face. He was tall and lean with sharp eyes that held a much older light than he himself was.

Actually all the men surrounding you were very attractive, each having a distinct trait about them that would have any sane women dropping to her knees in seconds. You guessed you weren’t sane. At least not sane enough to throw it back for hoodlums, not that you had room to judge, seeing as you grew up on the same side of the tracks as each of them.

Lord only knows where you would have ended up had you hung out with the wrong crowd. A crowd that even authority figures turned a blind eye to. No one wanted to cross them. They were dealing with big boy issues. These kids didn’t have time to fight with words behind one another's backs or on SNS’, no these kids fought with bullets. It was quite unnerving to be surround by so many dangerous people with so many lives under their belts.

You never dwelled on the fact that Jimin or V were apart of one on the most lethal gangs in Seoul. Part of you didn’t want to believe that someone so vivacious and his quiet partner were fiends of the underground.

Deep down you saw the signs. The steel peeking from underneath their shirts, sometimes on their way home from ‘collecting’ you noticed the brown paper bag soaked in red, leaving droplets on the asphalt as they went about their day. You just chose to ignore them, maybe for your own peace of mind.

“W-well, you all can’t stay here. I’ll keep an eye out for him while he rests but this can’t be a regular arrangement. If you need medical attention go seek it at a hospital, or don’t. He can bleed out for all I care, and don’t think this shit is free either, I got-”

Namjoon motions to Jin who, in turn, throws down two rolls of cash on the table. “Will that be enough?”

He doesn’t let you answer as he motions for the rest of the boys to follow him out. You reach over to pick up the money, thumbing through the bills curiously.

You don’t even realize Jimin is the last to leave. He sneaks up behind you, arms gripping onto your hips as he pulls you back into his chest. His lips graze over the shell of your ear, whispering gently.

“There’s more where that came from babygirl.”

You’re completely caught off guard, left a stuttering mess, watching his form disappear behind the door.

[7fics]

super mushy fluffy markson. they make a bet on who cries first at their wedding.

warnings: brief mention of something sexual…but it’s still fluff

author: Kay

word count: 1.9k

a/n: Hi all! What better way to introduce myself here than with a fluffy Markson fill that makes me never want to write angst again! Hope you enjoy :)

“There’s absolutely no way it would be me!”

Mark was shocked at Jackson’s accusation, both of them lounging across their king sized bed, a movie playing softly in the background as Mark placed his notepad next to him. Per Jackson’s suggestion, they were working on their vows for their impending nuptials, both spread out far enough so neither could accuse the other of peeking.

“That’s what you think,” Jackson giggled, moving from lying on his stomach to a cross-legged position. “But as soon as you see the double doors open and me standing there like an angel, you’ll find it hard to keep those tears back.”

“Give me a break,” Mark shook his head, laughing at the idea that he would be the one to crack. “If anyone cries first, it will be you. There’s no contest!”

“Are you saying I’m soft?” Jackson held his hand to his heart, acting as if Mark didn’t know every single detail about him, including where he would land on the emotional sensitivity scale.

“I’m saying that you have an established track record,” Mark explained, smiling as he leaned his head on his hand. “But if you really believe it would be me…”

Jackson didn’t miss the devilish smirk on his fiancé’s face, the ‘go ahead and try me’ personality trait that always drew him in working its magic again. If he went back on his word, Jackson would be labeled a liar (playfully, of course) and Mark would never let him live it down, so why not double down on his stance? Mark, on the other hand, felt like he had a better grip on reality than his partner, willing to test him to see how far he would take his outlandish claim, hoping his charms would fool Jackson into thinking he had it in the bag.

“Let’s make a bet,” the older suggested, flipping to a fresh page in his notebook away from his outline of his vows. “Whoever cries first at our wedding ceremony loses.”

“What counts as ‘crying?’” Jackson asked, his face a little more serious as he realized what he was about to agree to. Mark cackled, holding his stomach as his eyes scrunched up, grabbing his pen before starting to write.

“Any amount of tears shed,” he giggled, writing down an informal agreement on the page.

“Do the tears have to come out of our eyes to count?” Jackson asked, Mark giggling even more but knowing the blond was completely serious, nodding as he wrote more.

“Yes,” Mark grinned, outlining everything they discussed. “Tears must actually leave eyes to count.”

“Okay,” Jackson sighed, looking intimidated by the simple task of holding back his emotions. “What does the winner get?”

“Hmm…,” Mark thought to himself, thinking of all the rewards he would enjoy most, especially ones that would drive Jackson crazy. While it may have been anyone’s dream to ask anything of their significant other, it was harder for Mark as Jackson would already do anything he requested, going to the ends of the earth even when it wasn’t necessary to put a smile on Mark’s face. In fact, there was really only one thing Jackson ever seemed sensitive about giving into, and Mark figured it was the perfect opportunity to push Jackson even further into committing to the small wager, a mischievous grin tugging at his mouth.

“Whoever wins gets to top on our wedding night,” Mark suggested casually, watching as Jackson paled at the offer, visibly gulping down his pride. “Unless you are too scared to lose that chance…”

“No!” Jackson exclaimed, hands waving all around as if he was trying to distract the other from his visible fretting. “That’s fine, I’ll be fine!”

“Whatever you say,” Mark giggled, finishing up the handwritten contract by including their agreed-upon “prize,” leaving blank spaces for both him and Jackson to sign and accept. After jotting down his signature, Jackson ripped the pen from Mark’s hand, hesitating before scribbling his name down next, giggling and tossing the pen down once he finished. Swinging his legs off the edge of the bed, the blond stretched and let out a small yawn.

“Gonna shower before bed,” he smiled, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Mark’s lips. “Don’t miss me too much.”

Giggling and swatting Jackson’s ass playfully as he walked away and into their en suite, Mark sighed happily, leaning back against the headboard and reviewing the childish contract they had both accepted. Little playful moments were a signature of their entire relationship, Mark never feeling more comfortable than when he was with the other, laughing so hard he thought his stomach would burst, body convulsing with every giggle.

It was only then that he noticed how Jackson and signed his name, the awkward hesitation he tried to hide before writing suddenly making sense to Mark as he read the rushed pen strokes that made his heart flutter.

Jackson Tuan <3

***

Mark had nearly forgotten about the bet until he was on his way to the church, traveling by car with his family. He hadn’t seen Jackson since they parted at the hotel the night before, noticing how hard the younger had already been trying to reel back his usual wide range of emotions, practicing his hardest to win it all. While it was somewhat about the prize for Mark, he mostly wanted to taste victory, knowing Jackson felt the same, his competitive nature rooted in his athletic past always flaring up when challenged. As his father parked the car, Mark received a one line text, grinning at his screen as he read it to himself.

You’re going down.

And then, a moment later:

Oh and I love you ;)

Walking inside and to his own separate room to get ready, Mark began to change, his family helping where they could, making sure he didn’t miss a step. It all seemed to surreal that this was finally happening: he was about to stand at the altar and wait for Jackson, the person he loved most, the one he considered his soulmate, and they would leave together joined as one, brought together by love and complete loyalty. It was silly how quick he had fallen for Jackson, even though the younger would always say he fell first (and at a more rapid speed, of course), their two paths aligning like stars, guiding them to each other at the perfect time. Things hadn’t always been easy, but they made it work, communicating and staying open to each other because what they had was true but so rare, knowing it could vanish in an instant if they weren’t careful to nurture their growth together.

The weight of their relationship and the significance of the day began to wear on Mark, his father adjusting his tie and pocket square as Mark’s trembling fingers were no longer up to the task. Remembering his neatly folded page of vows, he slipped the small note into his pocket, his family assuring him three times that the ring was safe, letting Mark take a deep breath. If it wasn’t for the amount of nerves based on him wanting everything to go perfectly, he could see how one could slip into hysterics, thinking of all of the amazing events that brought him here, tears prickling behind his eyelids. Blinking them back, Mark swallowed, closing his eyes as he began to mumble comforting words to ease him into the ceremony.

The peace was only temporary as there was a panicked knock at the door, Mark’s mother answering it as Jaebum, his best man, rushed in, looking directly at Mark with an urgent look on his face.

“Mark! It’s Jackson!” He rushed out, hand quickly gripping Mark’s wrist. “It’s an emergency!”

“W-what?” Mark’s eyes went wide, an unsettling feeling rising to his chest as his head began to sift through the catalog of wedding day disasters he tried to hard to avoid remembering. “What’s the matter?”

“No time to explain!” Jaebum tugged Mark along, the groom-to-be shrugging in his family’s direction as the taller man dragged him hurriedly down a series of hallways, landing in front of a door marked with Jackson’s name, barging in without a second to waste. He finally let go of Mark’s wrist as he marched ahead leaving the panicked man to straighten himself out and take another calming breath before following, silently praying that everything was okay, feet picking up pace as he followed Jaebum through another doorway, hearing a slight murmur of sobs, Mark’s heart falling into his stomach. Jinyoung, Jackson’s best man, was suddenly at Jaebum’s side, whispering something into his ear that made him laugh quietly to himself, motioning to Mark to come over.

“He’s in the bathroom and he won’t come out,” Jinyoung explained, rubbing his left temple with his fingers. “I tried my best, but he won’t listen to me.”

“So, you called me?” Mark asked, Jinyoung nodding and showing him to the door.

“He’s going to be your problem for the rest of your life,” Jinyoung joked, a small smile on his face. “Might as well start now.”

Taking a moment before knocking gently, Mark waited for Jackson to say anything in response, forehead leaning against the door.

“Jackson,” he said simply, hoping it was enough to let him inside. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

One cleared throat and a series of sniffles later, Jackson finally replied, voice small from behind the door.

“I guess.”

Opening the door and taking a step inside so he could close it behind him, Mark finally got a good look at the other man, butt on the edge of the single chair in the small space, head resting in his hands. Mark didn’t know what was happening or why he wasn’t listening to what Jaebum nor Jinyoung were trying to do to help, but it was clear he was the one who had to clean up this mess before their guests were waiting for everything to start, sighing as he placed his hand on Jackson’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked gently, unsure of the response he would get from the simple question.

“N-no,” Jackson sighed, sniffling once again and lifting his head, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m not.”

“Talk to me,” Mark soothed, taking one of Jackson’s hands into his own, caressing it softly the way it always calmed him down in the past. “What’s the matter?”

Using his free hand, Jackson continued to wipe away whatever was left of the moisture around his eyes, sighing and composing himself before he could look in Mark’s direction. Once their eyes met, he let out another low sigh, bottom lip pouting out.

“You won,” he resigned, hanging his head in defeat. “You won the bet.”

“I did?” Mark asked, eyebrows raised at the easy confession Jackson offered. “But the wedding hasn’t even started…”

“You honestly believe I won’t cry again as soon as we’re up there if I’m a blubbering mess even thinking about it?” Jackson finally smiled, laughing to ease the mood. “Do you even know me at all?”

“Hey, I was trying to give you a chance to prove me wrong…,” Mark chuckled, reaching out to wipe a stray tear from Jackson’s cheek. “But I do love winning.”

“I know,” Jackson smiled a little brighter, taking a tissue from the box on the sink, clearing the rest of his tears away. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“It’s okay,” Mark smiled, hand resting on Jackson’s thigh in a habit of comfort. “I’m just happy you weren’t having second thoughts.”

“Me? Second thoughts?” Jackson was laughing at his usual volume at that point, assuring to their friends outside that everything was going to be okay. “You’re crazy!”

“Absolutely,” Mark giggled, pulling Jackson into a soft lip lock, hand wrapped around the back of his neck before pulling away gently. “But only for you.”