#ya ya fiction affects reality n to each their own

[sexysilverstrider]

saw a most attractive human characters in pokemon video and it was entertaining in the first few minutes but it then got annoying real fast when the ppl in the video start ignoring the protags coz they were "babies" and while i agreed and overlooked it the people start labelling some of the other characters as minors (brock misty and even N????) like. its clear yall see the former 2 as their anime counterparts but then they started to question flannerys n roarks ages n wondered if its weird to rate whether or not they like them and they kept emphasizing how some characters are clearly underage (sabrina) and im like. ok. yall boring. close video.

[gurorori]

continuin the prev post here cuz i feel comfy hidin my talks in tags but i always near the tag limit

[siwoline]

“believe me, i tried unloving you.” — [pjs.]

♫ : an art gallery could never be as unique as you by mrld

note. the painting mentioned here is just a work of fiction. if in case it relates to any painting, craft, or art piece in reality, all is purely coincidental.

word count: 1,506  |  angst, unrequited love

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“y/n!”

as soon as jay reaches you, he hugged you tight as if you did not just see each other two days ago. you laughed at how clingy he is even though you got used to it already because he’s been like that ever since.

he loosened his embrace to take a look at you then asked, “how’s my favorite one?”

he scrunched his nose almost looking like the cute cats you see online, which made you laugh even more and so you bury your face, your cheeks actually, to his chest as a response that you missed him just the same and tightened the hug that you share.

when you initiated to let go of your hug, you saw him pouted his lips but since your time is limited today, he decided to just guide you to the car he brought while you were laughing at how cute he is today. jay opened the car door for you, letting you ride on the shotgun seat. he took a turn and sat on the driver’s seat and looked at you, now showing a smile.

“are you excited?” you smiled, almost laughing at his giddy smile.

“ya, y/n! it’s a museum trip! and we’re just 30 minutes away from it,” and so he started driving.

today is saturday and you are to visit a local museum out of town. it’s like a tradition for you two to go out every weekend and you even made a jar full of papers folded into tiny pieces. written in those papers are names of places you both want to go to, picking one every weekend that passes by.

and today’s trip is actually the last paper you picked from that jar, a museum.

you both agreed that you won’t add more papers when you noticed that it’s slowly emptying itself. instead, you’ll create more on your last day and decided that you’ll share one secret with each other during the trip.

and jay seems to be in the middle of knowing whether he’s nervous or excited, probably thinking of what today brings.

you can’t deny that you’re feeling nervous too, which is quite weird. last night, you went back and forth in your room, thinking of what secret you’ll share with him but you can’t think of any. in your defense, it seems like jay knows almost everything about you already.

jay is observant, very attentive actually. he takes note of the littlest details about you but he doesn’t brag about it. there are times you’re taken aback because he knows what food you want to order when you’re having a lunch out or that he knows what random thing you forgot to bring on a busy day.

he knows the meaning behind your raised brows, your blank stares, or even when you are suddenly spacing out. jay familiarized himself with you that it’s crazy to think of a thing he doesn’t know about you.

“y/n! we’re here!”

you looked outside and saw a tall tower beside what seems like a casa. you turned back to tell him, “the national museum?”

he nodded, smiling, and shrugged his shoulders as if he’s telling you that he got it correct again. you shrieked and pulled him for a tight hug, “thank you, jay.”

growing up, you had sweet little crushes with people whom you met from school or in class. just last month, or maybe a few months ago, you remembered that you always go to the national museum for a first date with the person you were dating. you told jay that you wanted to create new memories on the national museum because you always think of how petty and hopeless romantic you once were.

but the truth is, you just want to forget about the memories you made with the wrong people. you wanted to start anew and think of the places you’ve been through with only happy memories in mind. whenever you think of the national museum, and every other places you’ve been to with the people who hurt you, you could only remember how impulsive, toxic, and love-thirsty you once were.

your thoughts stopped when he let go of your hug and went out the car to open the door for you. when everything’s settled, you linked your arms with his and you walked inside the museum together.

the museum caters thousands of masterpiece that only the national heritage owns. you and jay were being toured to the place and he occasionally tells you a thing or two about the art you’re seeing. the fact that he knows these kinds of information is already known to you because jay always wanted to go to places like this, where there are stories behind every thing that is wonderful.

when the museum guide ended the tour and said that you can now go around the place on your own, jay held your hand and looked at you.

“y/n, i know a piece to show you.”

you were walking past by the paintings about society, about children and family, until you reached the section where it’s about love. you were sure it’s about love. you looked around and you saw a rose quartz painting.

“jay, a rose quartz!” you said, obviously excited with what you saw. he laughed and told you that, “i know, y/n.”

you dragged him in front of the painting. it was rose quartz placed in what seems like a hand plate. the art is beautiful and mesmerizing that you were just admiring it with your eyes while jay is beside you, probably doing the same.

“this room,” jay caught your attention when he suddenly spoke. “this room is said to be a love section, y/n.”

you nodded and said, “it’s pretty obvious, jay. the paintings here,” you were cut off by him.

“but art can be interpreted in so many ways, y/n.” you looked at him, confused with what he’s trying to tell.

“the painting before we enter this room is called The Manifestation,” this time, he’s looking at you too. “i still don’t get it, jay” was the only response you can give.

you remember the painting you saw earlier before you enter this space. it’s an image of two silhouettes but only the other person is drawn with a heart. it was simple, yet, based on what jay is trying to say, it was meaningfully done.

“we are to share a secret today, right?” he asked, changing the topic. you only nodded as a response because you’re getting confused with where this conversation is going.

“y/n,” he called you, now with his body facing you. he reached for both your hands and held them gently. you hummed, gesturing that he continue.

“they say it’s actually bad to manifest for a person to move or act against their own free will, so i didn’t try to do that and i don’t want to. but when people told me that we’re not allowed to touch the art,” he said.

he then slowly envelopes you with his arms, “then why am i hugging one now?”

“jay,” you let go of his embrace, looking at him with confused eyes. “what did you say?”

he’s confessing. for real.

it’s already known to you that jay possibly might have feelings for you but you never got the chance to confirm if it’s true. it’s only your friends and your gut feeling that made you think that way. but you told yourself that jay stays only because he pities you and you were nothing but a mess since the day he met you. and jay being himself, you thought that he just wants to take care of you and nothing more than that.

and so you asked, “aren’t you just being confused with your feelings, jay?”

“i genuinely like you, y/n.”

“but i’m not—”

"look, i know that you’re not interested in romance. i don’t put malice in every hug, every i love you that we share, and in every take care that you give me before going home.”

and he’s not wrong. your tendencies of pushing away people that show meaningful interest and affection to you are all starting to build up within your system, as if it’s caging you again, stopping you from giving all that you have again to a person.

the fear of receiving affection and love takes over like a hunter, attacking those who would dare shower you hearts.

“since when did all of this happen, jay?” was the only words you could think of that would be less hurtful for him.

he looked away, catching words to say, and looked back at you. his eyes, hopeful ones, are looking straight at yours. “since day one?”

absurd.

“then from now on, can you start over?”

because no one can really love consistently. no one can love so genuinely.

“what do you mean?” he is confused.

and even if there is, you don’t want to risk your heart again.

“can you start day one, possibly with someone else?”

[brockadoodles]

this is me trying - n. mackinnon

AN: Don’t be fooled by the cute gif, this is ANGST, AGNST, and more ANGST. But y’all asked for this so. Here’s another one of the folklore series. It’s a repost, but definitely let me know what you think!

Word Count: 2190

Warnings: Drinking, angst

I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here Pouring out my heart to a stranger But I didn’t pour the whiskey

When you left Denver, you had no plans of coming back. You made peace with your decision to leave Nate because you felt in your heart that it was the right one at the time. Nate was intense but nothing was as impeding as the freight train of emotions that hit your body at once when you fell too hard for him, too fast. You did what any cowardly person would, you followed your fears all the way out of town, hoping for that to be the solution to mend the destruction inflicted on your heart that you were only to blame for. 

You thought Los Angeles would bring back who you were before Nate, instead, it chewed you up and spit you out like so many before you who went there, hoping for a glamorous reality that only existed in fiction. Instead of new dreams, you had an overpriced apartment you hated that felt cold at night, and loneliness in your heart you had accepted would be there forever. You were haunted by regret, the memory of leaving Nate standing alone in his kitchen as you left him, begging you to stay. He tried to tell you it was in your head, that you weren’t feeling too much, that he loved you as much as you loved him, but you wouldn’t listen. Los Angeles gave you one thing you were thankful for, even if it didn’t feel that way in the time you had been there and that was the realization of your mistake. 

“I don’t understand how you can tell me you’re in love with me and then just decide to leave?” Nate sighed, doing everything he could to understand what you were saying to him. He knew things had been hard, the season was long, but you never flinched at any of the trials of his career. He was so in love with you it hurt, his love was a strange feeling in his own heart, he didn’t know if he would ever find someone until he found you and he just knew. 

You wrapped your arms around your body, a physical representation of the pain you were trying to shield yourself from, a heartache that at the time felt necessary. Nate was your entire world, you lost yourself in him and your relationship and it terrified you. It was a love that was too good, where you were pulled off on the side of the road looking at a view, ten seconds away from the drop off that never came. You wanted to get ahead of it, break it off before it broke you. 

“I do love you, Nate, but it’s too much. I don’t even know who I am anymore.” You cried, begging him to understand. 

Nate tentatively took a step toward you, reaching slowly to pull your hand into his. 

“You’re the most amazing person I know. You have a dream that you’ve built on your own, and you do a damn good job of it. You care about the people around you, with your heart that loves people deeply. Everything about you is beautiful. You make me feel like nothing else matters, I would give everything up tomorrow if you asked. Please, don’t do this to us.” 

You sobbed at his words, looking into his eyes that were watery with tears. You squeezed his hand, unlacing your fingers from his. You knew what you had to do, you couldn’t be in Denver anymore. You couldn’t see his face everywhere, you had to figure out who you were. 

“I can’t be that person, Nate. I don’t know who that is. I’m sorry, you have to let me go.” You whispered, smiling sadly at him. 

You didn’t look back when you left his condo, you couldn’t allow yourself the last glimpse of him that you didn’t deserve. You knew if you did, you would have stayed. Instead, you walked to your car, packed full of your belongings. The tears didn’t stop flowing the entire time you drove toward the freeway, away from Denver and love you didn’t know if you’d ever find again. 

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

It had been six months, time that should have been enough to get over a breakup that you were the cause of. You were standing on a rooftop, looking out at the pink and orange sky that was settled between the LA skyline. A drink was sitting on the ledge, untouched in front of you, the water droplets on the glass from the ice that was melting. Everyone around you seemed so happy to be there drinks flowing and a steady noise from the constant chatter as they all celebrated your friend’s new engagement. You sighed, opening your phone as you debated slipping out early. You felt like an open wound, your thoughts were still racing over Nate, clouding your judgment and making it so that you couldn’t even be present for an event that deserved your full attention. 

When the car pulled up to your building, you felt like you were on auto-pilot as you thanked the driver, pulling out your keys before entering the lobby. As you opened the door to your apartment, you felt your eyes get heavy. You slipped off your heels, leaving them by the door as you continued inside. You slowly worked through your night routine, each step of it committed to muscle memory. You weren’t fully there, all you could think about was Nate. 

You made yourself a cup of tea in an attempt to wind yourself down, the cup warm in your hands as you crawled into your bed. Everything reminded you of him, the way you carefully got into bed, as if he was still peacefully sleeping on the other side and you didn’t want to wake him, the way you mentally said goodnight to him, even if you were just talking to his ghost, each little inconsequential piece of your life led back to him, no matter how hard you tried to forget. 

You felt so ahead of him at the time, so sure that what you were doing was right for both of you. The fear of a future with him overtook everything, the worries slowly started to replace comfort. You laid in bed that night, watching as time passed slowly while you thought intently about the last year of your life. You mentally berated yourself, trying to pinpoint exactly where it went wrong, combing through your memories for any signs that Nate gave that could have made you so insecure. 

The problem was that those signs were never there because Nate had never done anything wrong. He was an intense person, giving his all into everything he did, including you. Nate may not have been the type to show his feelings with superficial romantic gestures, he rarely surprised you with flowers, he didn’t take you on fancy dates, he took painfully long to say that he loved you. Anyone who didn’t know him probably would write him off as a lost cause, a young guy who didn’t know how to give himself to someone else. They had it all wrong though, Nate may not have been public about his affection, but he showed how much he cared in other ways. You felt his love in the way that he held you close after a tough loss, it was in the way he smiled softly at you when you weren’t looking, it was the way that he was your biggest supporter, always proud of your accomplishments and the person that you were. It was the way he was so sure about you meeting his family and Sid, knowing if you could get along with them, that you were probably the one for him. 

You thought back to that summer in Cole Harbour. Tears silently rolling down your cheeks as you remembered what Sidney had said to you that weekend. 

“He’s better with you, ya know. He’s more tolerable,” Sid jokes, walking up to you with a smile. You turned to look at him before your eyes trailed back to Nate, your heart full of nothing but affection for the man you had the privilege of getting to know. “But actually, not sure I’ll like him as much if you ever leave. You’re everything to him.” You looked at Sid, smiling softly at him. You didn’t respond because at the time you didn’t need to, the way you loved him was evident that weekend, it was unspoken. 

You never considered what Nate wanted. Looking back on it, you completely disregarded any feelings about you leaving, you never even gave him a chance to speak as you walked out his front door. The pressure created in your own mind, conning you into leaving a relationship that you were perfectly happy to be in only to later never let you grieve over what you did to him. You were selfish and you decided that enough was enough, you needed to forget about the failed attempt at moving on, you needed to go home. 

Glancing at the clock, you saw that it was just nearing 4 am, dimly lit reflections from the buildings were sneaking into your windows as the city was still asleep. It was a bad idea, one that came about from six months of never feeling at peace, your mind constantly going in circles. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you packed a small bag and left LA, settling in for a long drive back to a painfully familiar place.     

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

As soon as you drove into the city, feelings of nostalgia calmed you. You felt the most at peace than you had in a long time, a false sense of hope filling your heart, not knowing that in a few hours you’d finally break. 

You didn’t have a plan as you drove the familiar route to the place you once shared together, the streets unchanged as you passed by. It was dark, and you had no idea if he was even in town but it didn’t matter, you had to try. When you got close to the house, your heart sank. A beautiful woman was getting into a car in the driveway. Of course, he had moved on, why wouldn’t he when it had been so long? You drove away from the house quickly, the pieces of your heart shattering as you went to the one place in Denver where you knew you’d have a few hours to just forget.  

You sat at a dimly lit bar in downtown Denver, flakes of snow littered in your hair from the winter conditions you couldn’t forget if you tried. Your dark anorak jacket was carefully placed on the stool beside you, the wool scarf that had lost the scent of Nate a long time ago still carefully wrapped around your neck, keeping your body warm and comforted. Whiskey sours were placed in front of you far too frequently for anyone that was supposed to be put together. You poured your heart out to a stranger, details blurring together as you spoke to the man next to you who probably couldn’t care less about your problems. Your words were slurring as you crawled deeper into your own mind, over analyzing each moment of your relationship with Nate and how you got to this point of being in the same town and not knowing each other anymore.  

You shakily pulled out your phone, debatably one whiskey sour too many from any sort of rational decision. You missed him, the kind of longing where your whole body aches. You sat in the nearly empty bar, minutes from the last call, ringing in your heart that was heavy enough to lead to collapse. 

You opened the familiar contact, the red heart still next to his name, taunting you as you remember the childlike crush you had when you put it there. You knew he wouldn’t pick up, not after what you did, but if you couldn’t be with him, you wanted to at least try one more time to rectify the mistakes you made.

“Nate I- god. I miss you, I’m sitting here at this bar, and all I can think about is the potential we had that I fucked up. I feel like I’m the outsider in this crowded party I wasn’t invited to. All I wanted was you and I fucked it up, baby. I-god.” You cried out into his voicemail, not unfamiliar to the desperation in your voice. 

“I guess this is me trying ya know? I want to make it right, to make you happy, to love you like I was so scared to before. I-I’ll be here, waiting.” You set your phone down, shaky hands wiping tears from your cheeks. You waited there until the night grew cold and the bartender had to help you into an Uber home, for a call that would never come.

[tropicalfreckles]

ahhh here we go

slight tw related to p*dophilia

@ other adults that steered away from fandoms for years cause of the stupid shit we dealt with as teens back in the mid to late 2000s and as young adults in the early 2010s. Some times I see shit that makes me want to step back into a fandom I’m admiring from afar cause I just get so ticked some times at how disgusting people can be at folks having harmless safe fun and ESPECIALLY in mixed age fandoms when adults step way too goddamn close into minors safe spaces with their shitty creepy ships or some stuff like that (like incest ships or minor/adult ships(fucking p*do ships)). This is also kind of related to the beetlejuice fandom cause I’ve been seeing a lot of discourse I didn’t know that it had.

I’m gonna own up to this shit cause it’s problematic and I deleted anything and everything I ever had related to it. I stupidly shipped a minor/adult ship when I was in my middish twenties and it still makes me gag and feel super stupid and embarrassed. If y’all have been following me for a while, you should know it was from K*K and I am so glad I realized like 2 years after stupidly shipping it how wrong that was. Anime some times desensitizes people and my stupid ass definitely got that. I ain’t ever doing that again cause it’s wrong. I wanted to get that out of the way first off cause I’m willing to own up to my stupid shit. One thing I will say is I never stepped into minor spaces about this or talked with anyone outside of my friend about my ship. I stupidly shipped this because the characters reminded me of a friend and mine’s ocs, which is dumb cause our ocs are the same age as each other and adults. I should be happy with what we have and not project crap.

Anyways backtracking I bring this up because I know there are people out there that know deep down it’s wrong and y’all can change from shipping creepy shit if you really think on it and how it can be harmful to minors who end up seeing it and feeling uncomfy. I know I saw a lot of stuff as a minor that made me disgusted and uncomfortable and it stuck with me (s*ilor m**n porn when I was like 12/13 was one of it and oh boy I saw some of the harder shit and it made me steer clear from sites that weren’t n*opets for a while) and also ya know it’s fucking creepy. Doesn’t matter if it’s fictional. Fictional can affect reality I’ve heard of plenty of stories that make me so sad of people using fiction to groom children.

Talking about this is once again related to adults using their creepy shit and trying to throw it in minors faces and making them uncomfortable or going after them for not liking their ship, etc, etc, not liking their takes and shit.

Why did fandoms become so fucking violent and toxic? It’s a goddamn shame and it’s why I stay out of it mostly. But I am so close to snapping some times at other adults because they need to stay in their fucking lane and let minors have safe spaces. I wish I had someone looking out for me when I was a minor. I probably wouldn’t have done as much stupid shit as I did. Or engaged with adults in heated debates, either.

tldr; respect minors, try to be kinder and DO NOT come at them if you disagree with them, let them fucking learn and grow on their own as well. Do not make them uncomfortable, do not try forcing your ideals on a stranger who is a fucking kid or teen. Let it be. Be mindful of your age and how your mental thinking is gonna be way different from a kids. Please get your heads out of your asses.

EDIT: Big ol’ side note that death threats and suicide baiting is super wrong. Don't do that. EDIT 2: Also other side note that we don’t need to infantilize minors, being condescending isn’t very helpful either.

[kumkaniudaku]

Scene Partner

A/N: This is HEAVILY inspired by the incomparable @justanotherloveaffair and her work. Particularly The Fountain and A Late Night Invitation. Both have strong adult content, so read at your own discretion. Enjoy. 

Warning: Adult Themes 

“The category is...live, work, pose!”

Tasha let off an elated giggle that bounced off the walls of the living room as she made herself comfortable beneath her favorite throw blanket. After hours of tinkering with the television in the rented Hilton Head townhome, she was finally able to commence a rewatch of her favorite series to keep her mind occupied while her husband worked on his script on the balcony.

In the weeks leading up to the wedding, Chadwick was on a mission to complete an initial draft of a script he’d been pouring over for months. An explosion of pent-up frustration in the dead of night led CoCo to call an audible and orchestrate a short vacation before another expensive vase was destroyed.

While Tasha spent time inside sipping red wine and reciting lines from Pose, Chadwick stared out at the sunset’s reflection on the aquamarine waters a few feet away. Though he finally felt relaxed enough to be productive, he was still stuck on a pivotal scene in the script. At the height of the conflict between the male lead and his written girlfriend, the actions didn’t feel authentic. Each word lacked passion and motivation on the page and Chadwick knew that if he found it difficult to connect to the characters, viewers would quickly lose interest in the story.

A boisterous ‘yasssss’ from the other room made him look over and smile. Observing his wife-to-be in a true state of happiness at something as small as a television show had recently become the driving force behind his desire to succeed. The mere promise of coming home to her at the end of a long day made all of the trials and triumphs worth the trouble. Taking a look between his laptop screen and CoCo, he made the decision to pack up his things and take a break.

Grabbing his script, Chadwick quietly padded into the living room and cleared his throat to get Tasha’s attention. She quickly lowered the volume on the TV at turned to greet him with a smile.

“Hey, baby! Make any progress?”

“Eh, a little,” he answered, grunting as he took a seat next to her on the couch. “I’m stuck on this scene toward the beginning. Right after Chris gets out of jail.”

“Well, come on over here and tell me all about it.”

Chadwick couldn’t help but crack a smile at his wife making grabbing motions like a toddler to welcome him into her arms. Relenting to the cute display of affection, he allowed her to pull him close enough to rest his head on her chest.

“It just...there’s no feeling in the words, ya know. He finally gets out of jail after ten years, gets back to his childhood love and she offers no resistance. Amayah is supposed to be this strong woman that has learned to parent a child after he selfishly gets locked up, and the moment he comes back, she’s all ears? It doesn’t seem real. Am I tripping?”

“No, you’re making valid observations. Have you talked to your partners about changing things?”

“They hear me, but they aren’t on board.”

Tasha thought for a moment and shrugged, “So, let's act it out. If what they wrote is something actual people would do, then it should translate as we go along, right?”

Sitting up, Chadwick beamed at his fiancé before peppering her face in kisses. “That’s brilliant! I can’t believe I’m about to marry a genius.”

“Didn’t you luck out,” she laughed. “Now go grab the script! Give me some background on Amayah. She sounds spicy.”

“Amayah is an Afro Dominican woman from Brooklyn. A nurse by trade, she parents her 10-year-old alone the best she can. Consider her a bit of a firecracker with a soft inside.”

“Sounds like the official synopsis you find on Wikipedia.”

“It is,” Chadwick confirmed as he handed Tasha the script and pointed to the top of the selected page. “You sure you aren’t getting information through an earpiece?”

“I’m just that good, love.”

Rolling his eyes, Chadwick motioned toward the kitchen for Tasha to join him. He watched in silence for a few moments while she skimmed the script for a general feel of the scene. As she neared the middle of the page, she stopped and pulled her hair free from her bun. Her once sleek style quickly transformed into a more dynamic and free look. She was morphing into the character Chadwick envisioned from the start.

“Okay,” she breathed out as she shook her hands to figuratively shake away the nerves. “I’m ready. From the top?”

“Start after Chris walks in. Take your time. Feel every word.”

Tasha took in the information with her eyes closed in an effort to channel her emotions. After a quick ‘okay’ to signal she was ready, Chadwick set up the audio recording on his phone and prepared to begin.

“Fuck, Mayah, can we sit down and talk about the shit?”

“We don’t have nothin’ to talk about, Chris!” Chadwick was shocked by Tasha’s ability to change her voice so effectively, adding an authentic accent to the character. As much as he wanted to step in and praise her, he held back for the sake of the work.

“You don’t get to be selfish for ten fuckin’ years and come back thinking shit is okay! Get. Out.”

Noticing the slight deviation, Chadwick followed Tasha’s lead and changed his line to fit the situation.

“Selfish? You - you think I wanted to be in there?”

“You weren’t doing anything to stay out! How many times did I ask you to come home? Huh! I stood right here and begged you to stay inside but you chose them over me. Over us! That’s selfish!”

“That’s taking care of a family! That’s what a man is supposed to do.”

“I never asked you to do that!” Tasha’s display of emotion injected the right amount of realism to transform the moment into a real-life situation. Abandoning the script altogether, Chadwick rounded the counter to stand closer to Tasha.

A quick flash in his eyes conveyed to Tasha that she was on the right track and had free range to continue.

“The only thing I’ve ever wanted is for you to be at home with me and Marco! And you couldn’t even do that.”

“I’m here now, Mayah! Let me be here for you.”

Following her gut, Tasha turned her head to avoid eye contact, “No. It’s too late.”

“Look at me, baby. Let me be here. Please.” He gently tugged at her crossed arms to turn her body toward his. “Let me be here.”

“No. You have to leave.”

Just as it was written in the script, Chadwick leaned into a kiss hoping that the results on paper would be different than the results in the moment. But, as soon as their lips collided, both of them became charged with their character’s emotions.

Tasha attempted to resist the temptation, continuing to withhold affection after several tender pecks on the corner of her mouth. Her body twisted out of his grasp to lean against the kitchen counter and anchor her mind to reality.

Chadwick acted on her reactions by kissing the tears from her cheek before moving to stand behind her.

“I need you to let me be here.” A kiss to the back of her neck. “I love you. Please. I can change. Give me a chance to explain.”

“You’ve had all of your chances. What’s so different this time?” Amayah and Tasha had now become one woman, both battling with past choices and chances given to those that didn’t deserve them at the time.

Silent tears fell from her flushed face to hit the back of her hand and Chadwick wondered if he was pushing the love of his life past her limits. Acting was his occupation. He knew how to separate fact from fiction. Trusting her ability to speak up when she reached her breaking point, he allowed her to continue with careful consideration.

“I’m different this time.” His slender fingers traveled up the soft skin of Tasha’s exposed arm, raising goosebumps until he anchored them on her shoulder. Chadwick nuzzled his nose into her neck to force her head up until he could softly kiss the juncture of her neck and collarbone. “I’m different this time.”

Chadwick surprised himself when his declaration came out in a low whisper. The world around them, the sounds of the beach and tourists just outside the door, had long transformed into what they remembered from the busy streets of Brooklyn. Together Chadwick and Tasha were now Chris and Amayah and able to live in the fullness of the moment.

With their faces mere centimeters apart, he pressed his lips into hers cautiously, feeling no resistance. He continued to lead the kiss until he felt the firm press of her lips on his. They both stood in a whirlwind of emotions as timid pecks made way for a deep kiss packed with anger, lust, and love.

Tasha followed what she assumed Amayah would do in the situation and reached around Chadwick to palm the back of his head and bring him closer. He happily responded to the contact and wrapped both arms around her midsection to quell the fear that she might fade away if he didn’t hold on.

The thudding in both of their hearts began to intensify as his hands slid to grip her waist and pulled her body back into the heat of his chest.

Chadwick gently rolled his lower half into Tasha’s backside before breaking the kiss to release a little sigh.

“I love you,” he confessed breathlessly in her ear. The sentiment wasn’t returned despite Tasha’s longing to scream it to the ceiling. She was still acting on Amayah’s emotions.

Instead, she moved her hand to take control of Chadwick’s movements, forcing his head back into the crook of her neck to kiss. He obliged and slowly lifted the hem of her nightie to find the surprise of her being bare underneath. One hand roamed the soft skin of her belly beneath the silk fabric while the other went on a mission to free himself from his cotton gym shorts.

When his lips returned for another taste, he introduced himself to her body in one fluid motion.

“Fuck. Yes,” Tasha belted between shaky breaths.

The script and its dialogue became a distant memory as they traded choppy moans and sighs of content. Low lights in the room created sensual silhouettes on the walls of bodies moving in tandem like a choreographed dance. Tasha searched for anything to grab hold of to keep her body anchored in reality while her fiance poured his entire being into conveying feelings that belonged to two separate people.

Using a firm touch, Chadwick’s hand traveled from her torso to her neck to apply pressure. Tasha’s jaw dropped in ecstasy at the feelings surrounding her. She could feel the rapid pulse of her lover’s dick inside of her making her legs feel like putty by the second. His warm breath alternated between pants of effort against her neck to hungry nips and bites at her lips. When his off hand moved between her lips to fondle her clit, her mind went into a black fog from the intensity.

Tasha’s hand flew back to press against Chadwick’s thighs, hoping that her attempt to slow the onslaught of mind-numbing sensations would convince her lover to give her a breather. Instead, he released a short laugh before nuzzling his nose against her cheek.

“Nuh uh, move your hand,” he commanded as he took her wrist to pin it behind her back. “Why you runnin’?” 

Tasha responded in a high pitch mumble about going slow that he responded to with a smile and a change of pace.

Though he slowed to a more manageable speed, the intensity remained. Long, beautifully punishing strokes made her eyes roll back before fluttering closed in preparation for a wave of euphoria. Colors burst behind her lids as her limbs began to seize in Chadwick’s arms. He held her close and praised her reactions, speeding up his rhythm as he chased his release.

Opening her mouth to respond with an expression of thanks resulted in a muted scream followed by a guttural groan when her body became flooded with warmth. While she focused on coming down from her high, Chadwick was reaching his peak. His short whimpers preceded drawn out moans until he was reduced to periodic panting to catch his breath.

Both of them stayed put, unable to form coherent thoughts from exhaustion. After several moments Tasha let out a laugh and turned her head so that she could kiss Chadwick’s cheek.

“Now you can leave.”

His eyes widened along with his smile, “Woooow. That’s method acting if I’ve ever seen it. Sure you don’t wanna audition? I’d love to have you on set.”

“Yeah, I bet. You treat all your co-stars this way?”

“Only the ones I plan sharing my last name with.” Sharing a laugh, the pair finally pulled apart to help each other clean up and return to their original, pre-coitus state. As Tasha fetched a glass for Chadwick to join her in her wine exploration, he began searching for his cell phone to make notes on the script before his train of thought was compromised.

Unlocking his phone, Chadwick felt a split second of horror at the realization that he had not only recorded the “changes” to the script but also at least ten minutes of sex and conversation. His rush to delete the recording stopped when he curiously pressed play and fast-forwarded to a random point. What he found was a beautiful symphony of passion and filth that could come in handy when work obligations kept them apart.

Still reeling from the earlier activities, Chadwick quickly edited the lewd parts of the recording, saved it to a separate file and stored it in a secret folder on his phone.

“Babe, c’mon! Damon is about to go on his audition!”

“Be there in a second. Keep my spot warm for me.”

Unable to resist the temptation, he took one last listen to the audio and shivered as he relived the moment with his eyes closed. Another call of his name snapped Chadwick out of the moment to remind him of his obligation to join Tasha in the living room but not before he took the time to send a quick text message.

Had a conversation with the wife. You were right about the C+A scene. Very authentic. Minor changes on the way.

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[nerdylittoyvoid]

Know-it-all : G.D.

A/N : This whole thing was inspired by @milliondollardolan and their writing. Reading their stuff really wanted me to get back into the groove of writing.This one is more of a rant in the form of fiction. I can’t be the only one frustrated with the issues presented here. 

The goal here wasn’t to make the reader seem as if she’s reactive or passive, but to seem more real in her insecurities. 

My hope is that it isn’t read as more of a tangent than having actual flow and, that you find elements that you can identify with. Moreover, I hope that you enjoy it! 

She really couldn’t help it. After all, we’re all products of our own upbringing.

Y/N sat in the loud pub with the small gang comprising of Ethan, Grayson, Emma and one of her close friends, Morgan.

The traditional green walls mixed with the dark painted beams made her feel as if she was in Britain, a place she always wanted to visit. Pale string lights were hung from the ceiling only adding to the oxymoron that was this pub; chaotically calming. With her chin resting on her hand, Y/N took in the people at the tables around her. There were a group of guys sat at a table closer to the bar, giving in their two-cents to the game being broadcasted on the flat screen TVs hung all throughout the pub. Across from where she was, she noticed a family all laughing together, almost as if they were reminiscing. To the side of them stood a couple balloons. One read Happy Birthday! , the other, a simple 21 years old!

 With the lively setting surrounding her, her focus remained on the couples throughout the establishment. She noticed how they were flirting, laughing and finding safety in each other’s company. As bitter as it sounded, she couldn’t help but feel repulsion. Not to the couples, of course, she was more than happy for them. It was more the idea of being that vulnerable with somebody – having them know you through and through. It didn’t help that she had a huge, no good, emotionally draining crush on Grayson.

What was even more confusing was that, despite her longing to simply be with him, she was faced with uncertainty due to multiple past relationships of which were, disempowering to say the least. She noticed how her boldness started chipping. What made it worse for her was the subtle misogyny she grew up with. The small phrases she would receive affected her confidence gravely. Comments like: “Nobody likes a know-it-all”, “Boys are intimidated by smart girls”, and her favourite, “You’ll drive people away, being that opinionated”. What can she say? She’s a product of her own upbringing.

Just like everybody else, she told herself.

It wasn’t like she was docile; she wasn’t even close to that. It was just that her insecurities hadn’t anything to do with appearances. It was all to do with her personality and intelligence. She had been taught to be unsure of herself.

She could only suppose it was due to her own bad experiences that left her with wounds that, in her opinion, were taking too damn long to heal.

Y/N was brought back to the group by Emma poking her cheek. “Always the dreamer, aren’t ya?” Emma knew her the best; how loquacious and sassy she became once comfortable with someone.

All eyes are now on Y/N and her blushing cheeks.

Going for a small amount of wit, she shrugged. “Figured you would be too, given that those three have only been talking about YouTube as if there aren’t two confused college students sitting at the same table.”

Emma, Ethan and Grayson stopped to look at each other, Grayson arching his eyebrow. She couldn’t tell if it was out of offense or surprise. Oh god, Y/N thought, did I go too far with that one?

Right before Y/N could apologize, the quarter started chuckling. Emma’s chuckle turned into a laugh, Ethan shook his head as a grin formed on his face and Grayson remained surprised, chest moving from the soft laughs escaping him.

After a couple of seconds, Grayson was the first to respond. “First, we find out that you actually can speak, and then that you’ve got an attitude?”

Y/N’s blush darkened as she tried to find something else to say. Something about his tone of voice made her want to melt onto the floor. She felt flutters in her stomach, figuring it was the butterflies. Damn crushes to hell, she thought.

But she already opened her mouth. There was no going back now. Fuck it.

Lifting her chin from her palm, she leaned back in her seat, intertwining her fingers together and resting them on the table (which she absolutely did not learn from reading an article online titled ‘Appearing Calm When the Attention is on You’).

Y/N cleared her throat tried to rid herself of her deer-in-headlights look. “I also find joy in leaving the forthcoming speechless, and you haven’t stopped talking all night. Anything else you want to know about me?”  

Taken aback by her own boldness, she wondered if she had drunk way too much, or if this was the result of feeling bottled up for too long. For one night, Y/N wanted to not have to worry about pleasantries. For one night, Y/N wanted to say what she really felt without thinking about what others told her in the past. For one night, she wanted to be considered boisterous and be okay with it.

Both Y/N and Grayson were now looking at each other, waiting for the other to make their move. Sensing the tension, Morgan and Emma announced they went to the washroom and Ethan decided to go buy another drink.

“I always wondered why you were so shy,” Grayson started. “Began to wonder if it was just me.”

God, he had no idea how nervous he made Y/N. He made her want to be more expressive – get her to tuck her stoicism into her back pocket. He was the type of guy that she wanted to feel safe with despite her own insecurities.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Y/N’s sarcasm really began to shine through. “God, Gray. Not everything is about you.” She chuckled at the end of her sentence, indicating to Gray that she was, in fact, joking.

“To answer your question,” Y/N continued. “I suppose I didn’t always feel like I needed to add anything into the conversation.” That may have been a stretch of the truth. She did want to be loud and opinionated. She wanted to be the type of girl that guys were intimidated by, in a good way.

“Maybe now I want to hear what you have to say,” Grayson leant forward, propping his elbows and intertwining his hands together. “You’re in college still, right? How’s that going?”

“I guess you could say it’s the same old considering that the education system on all levels hasn’t changed at all in at least 100 years,” Y/N stopped herself before she could go too far. “Although that’s a whole can of worms that may leave us here for at least a couple of hours if opened.”

“Somehow that doesn’t seem that bad at all. I want to know what your opinions are on that.”

Y/N was taken aback by his sudden interest, just as much as Grayson was by her sudden forwardness. It was definitely the alcohol.

“I just find it funny that throughout my entire academic career, teachers have been taught to shove information down our throats without even bothering to teach us how to learn,” Y/N paused to take another sip of the drink in front of her, focusing on how his eyebrows furrowed at her statement; he was processing it. “Teaching us our learning types and providing tests no different from the ones in all our other classes to identify our own, and then not giving us the resources to use that information to our advantages. I don’t even think I could articulate how much better I could have done in school if they had made the effort into making things more interactive.”

“For example, out of the past 15 years of me being in school including my time in university, I can count on one hand how many teachers that have had actually put in the effort to do things differently.”

Grayson quickly interjected, his interests peaking. “So, you’re saying it’s the teachers’ faults?”

“Not necessarily. Maybe if they were actually given a livable salary, they would have motivation to do so. We’re all doing the best with what we’ve got, and teachers and students share the short end of the stick.”

“I’ll be honest,” Grayson cleared his throat. “I’m not too sure what I can contribute here.”

“That’ll hardly be necessary,” Y/N shook her head. “You’ve got me started and I still have a lot to say.”

Grayson let out a laugh, finding her bluntness refreshing.

“Besides,” she continued her rant. “I think it’s a little messed up how we go to an institution of learning for several hours a day and go home having to teach ourselves the material. The small number of teachers that I mentioned went above and beyond in their teaching. They created games to instill the information into us. They got everybody moving. The class didn’t include your typical ‘sit down and shut up’ kinds of lessons; it was a conversation. If you asked a question and still didn’t understand the clarification, the teacher understood that it would be best to take a different approach. They didn’t make you feel inadequate or stupid just because you didn’t understand it the way they did.”

“They understood that learning was done through making mistakes, and that understanding isn’t measured through the ability to recite bodies of text. It’s, in my opinion, how well you can apply that information to the current reality and your own experiences.” Y/N leant back in her seat once again. “It’s about using the tangible as reinforcement.”

Grayson was left speechless. He was left wanting more – he wanted to pull apart her mind and put it back together again. If she wasn’t beautiful before, then damn, was she stunning now. His face began heating up. He was blushing. The woman sitting across from him was making him feel like a giddy teenager all over again.

“Are you not going to call me out on how red I am right now?”

“No, because blushing isn’t necessarily indicative to attraction,” She crossed her arms – not to be confused with her being standoff-ish. It was her way of self-soothing as she began feeling uncomfortable again; she was worried she was saying too much. “It’s an involuntary reaction and can be caused by multiple different scenarios, depending on which emotions are provoked.”

That’s where the banter started.

“Some would say that you’re a know-it-all.” Grayson’s grin grew. The way his interest towards her grew every second never seized to astonish him.

“Some would say that I’m an ‘insufferable know-it-all’.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you just quote Snape from Harry Potter?”

Y/N let out a genuine, loud laugh. “It’s reassuring knowing that you’re not completely un-cultured.”

“I’m guessing since you’ve decided to quote Snape’s reaction to Hermione always having an answer to everything, that you see a bit of yourself in her?”

“Depends if you see reading books as a defining personality trait.” Y/N quipped.

Grayson soon swallowed his pride. This girl has a smart-ass response to everything – and he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. “You want to maybe get out of here and go somewhere quieter?”

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, grinning as she collected her things and put on her jacket.

She never thought she’d see the day where a) she would allow someone to peel back her layers in such a small period of time and b) she would thank alcohol for making it possible.

[itsyaboisayori]

Why I’m questioning Sayori

I said I’d make this post so here it is! Even got on my laptop to properly do the post :p I’m just kinda winging this but I’ll try to list out everything I can. If I forget stuff I’ll go back and edit it later so if you’re curious, keep watch! I’ll reblog any time I make edits, at least somewhat big ones. 

Also, replies are welcome! I’m open to constructive criticism and anyone wanting to offer new viewpoints. I accept that I’m still learning and nothing is for sure yet. Also tbh anyone telling me I sound like I’m kin is validating as heck so if you’re thinking it then I’d appreciate you saying it ahaha, but please don’t lie to me because you think you know what I want to hear. I want the truth. I don’t want to be a confused mess ;n; And I know all/most of these could be COMPLETELY unrelated to being Sayori fictionkin, but I feel like they’re worth mentioning anyways. It’s more like, a bunch of little coincidences rather than big solid evidence, I’m aware of that and that’s a big reason why I’m questioning and not for-sure Sayorikin.

One thing I realized just a couple of days ago is how, since I was a kid I’ve had this like, ideal thing I guess? how do I put this into words lmao my brain is dumb,, I guess a fantasy, that I’d fall in love with a childhood friend, like someone I’m close with from a young age but strictly friends for a long time. I’ve always been in love with the idea of falling in love with your best friend. And of course that’s what happens to Sayori, due to her programming in DDLC. And if I’m kin with Sayori from other game(s) rather than just DDLC then it definitely could be something unrelated, just a coincidence.

I’m like, really drawn to DDLC?? Maybe just because DDLC is a great game and I love all the creepypasta type stuff behind it all, all the theories and dark shit, and also I think just as a cute dating sim it’d be great anyways (but nowhere near as great). But idk, when I saw it I immediately felt kinda drawn to it but maybe that’s just in my head or for some other reason like the characters look nice or smth.

Also it REALLY gives me feels. It makes me feel things in general. I rarely get genuinely scared from fictional stuff anymore but this game fucked me up. I’m still scared to play it on my own because, even after watching multiple youtubers play it multiple times, it still fucking scares me.

The Sayori suicide scene and her poem- especially the poem- really get to me. I saw people making hanging puns in the previous video before her death so it was kind of spoiled for me but even still, it got to me. And the scene where Sayori is freaking out because you deleted Monika before playing the game REALLY gets to me,, like I just understand that overwhelming, helpless feeling. Especially finding out why she acted that way, it’s so fucking hard to watch that scene and normally I’m not affected by this kind of stuff. So either DDLC is extremely good at psychological horror or I have some sort of connection to the scenarios, whether that be just that I’ve been through similar things and am projecting (not really that I remember though? idfk brains are weird) or ya know,,, I once lived as someone in DDLC or whatever.

(TW self harm/suicide/choking) Probably has no real correlation but when I have panic attacks/flashbacks (unrelated to DDLC I mean) I feel like I’m choking or like I can’t breathe. And when really frustrated I tend to choke myself? Sayori died from asphyxiation instead of her neck being broken, by accident because she used a stepping stool instead of something higher like a chair and jumping off. Btw I’m okay, I never actually choke myself to the point to causing permanent damage or anything, and of course I’m not saying this is like, okay or anything. I know it’s bad but I’ve done it completely on impulse, and this was all before learning DDLC even existed. I’m working on getting better and I’m not going to kill myself or anything, just thought I’d mention this.

I relate to her personality,,, so fucking much. Not just the whole pretending to be happy to make your friends happy thing, but how she is as a person besides her depression. Tbh I feel like a lot of people relate to her because of her depression and how she deals with it, but like she’s so much more than that. She pretends to be dumb but it actually pretty smart. Maybe she’s not the best with words but I think she’s a lot more intelligent than some people think. She’s so cheerful, maybe even annoying, and is kind of the class clown, and is a total weirdo sometimes but it’s GREAT and just,, same lmao. Like “looks like my boobs are getting bigger again >:D” is something I’d say lolol I just love Sayori so much, like idc if I’m kin with her or not she’s still fucking amazing.

Another reason I relate to her but probably is like not at all proof I’m Sayori or anything, just thought I’d mention anyways, but I was kinda like, really in love with my guy friend in high school for years, he’s actually kinda like MC in some ways, like he was kinda popular with girls but not like Popular(tm), super nice and couldn’t directly say no, but he knew I was in love with him (or at least knew I had a crush on him but he probably had no idea I liked him THAT much but hey neither did I for a long time lmao) and didn’t like me back and even started intentionally avoiding me. Like, he would make up an excuse to not give me a hug, like he was late for class, but hugs only take like a fucking second what the hell?? It sucked but like when the player turns down Sayori I Relate.

I just,,,,, want to hug Natsuki like she’s fucking adorable and I want to protect her the most bc she’s like a precious child and she’s obviously abused by her dad. Tbh Yuri is a little creepy and for some reason I don’t like her that much but I mean I’d still hug her. I don’t hate Monika, like it was just her programming to do all that stuff she did so I don’t blame her and she’s p cool and I’d hug her too tbh. When Sayori interacts with Natsuki it makes me feel all warm n fuzzy. Like I don’t think in my canon Sayori and Natsuki were dating or anything, I think I/Sayori am/was just really protective? Idk, thought I’d throw that out there.

I also heavily relate to wanting to be a mediator and wanting to help everyone get along and be happy. I often (try to) play that role in this life. I’m extremely empathetic, so that’s prob why, but I can’t stand when people are fighting or can’t see each other’s point of view. Though it also frustrates the FUCK out of me when people refuse to or just absolutely cannot see any point of view but their own. Maybe that’s not really a Sayori thing but ye

When I look at Sayori I get the same “that’s me!” feeling as when I see my kintypes. Who knows though, maybe in a month or two it’ll fade, we’ll see I guess. But right now it is Very Strong. Like I’ve somewhat questioned being fictionkin with other characters before but I’ve never had the “that’s me” feeling this strong with anyone else. Ruby from RWBY is a close second but I still think she’s just a kithtype.

I feel like having a past life or whatever as someone who was experimented on kinda makes sense?? Maybe I just enjoy horror a little too much but I really think if I am Sayori I’m kin with her like actual her not just the DDLC version of her. The new game hasn’t even been announced yet but I’m so excited, mostly because I feel like I want to learn more about my possible past life I guess. I wanna see if things in the second game connect with me or if it’s just DDLC. But I feel like, if I’ve had any past lives as any humans, they were probably really dark or smth. I kinda have a dark mind I guess and that would just make sense to me lmao, like I’m 21 why haven’t I grown out of my edgy phase, why the fuck am I still really into creepypasta? Damn.

I’ve been kinda obsessed with DDLC lately. I have BPD so it could totally just be a BPD obsession thing and maybe this obsession will fade and someday I won’t care too much about DDLC, only time will tell. Also I’ve had the song Your Reality stuck in my head for a week straight but it may just be a catchy song and I tend to have a song that kinda automatically starts playing in my head occasionally, usually lately it’s been Sad Machine by Porter Robinson (good song btw highly recommend)

Most likely unrelated but Sayori’s hair has been described as “strawberry blonde” on one wiki and my hair is like, light brown but reddish, though it looks more like Monika’s hair, especially because I keep my hair long. I’ve been kinda wanting to cut it but I like having long hair tbh and I feel like a lot of ppl don’t want me to cut my hair haha, though I really wanna get a short wig and maybe wear that occasionally (esp bc I’m non binary and wanna pass as more boyish sometimes, I know society will never accept me as nb bleh but anyways). Though, it’s been said that the reason her hair is short is because it’s easier for her to deal with, but I’m not 100% sure if that’s canon. Though I guess it doesn’t matter much? cuz multiverse stuff n all but, still.

Speaking of her appearance, she seems to not care too much about how she looks, which I relate to haha, especially because of depression n stuff. I mean I have Crippling Social Anxiety(tm) so I do care to an extent but usually I’m like, if someone likes me they’ll like me for who I am not how I look anyways. I don’t feel the need to dress super proper to impress anyone in casual social situations, like making friends or even going on dates (though I’ve only been on a real date like a few times and they were with my gf who I’d already been dating online for a while). And yeah a big reason she’s so careless about her appearance is depression but I think if I wasn’t depressed and she wasn’t depressed we’d still both have that mentality like, we don’t need to impress anyone with our appearance so it’s better to just dress how you want, whatever way makes you feel comfortable and happy with yourself and your body, than focus on being proper and stuff.

Maybe I’m just projecting but man I feel like a lot of stuff I do and my ways of thinking and stuff are very Sayori(tm). I feel like I am so much like her, like she’s so me. Though of course, maybe my reason for being kin with her is purely psychological. Maybe I “became” her after seeing DDLC. Maybe I am her because I relate to her so much. But again, only time will tell. If I still feel like I identify as her (which, currently, I most definitely do) in a couple of months or so, then I guess I’ll start calling myself fictionkin. Idk.

[tellerford13]

MO ASTOR- CHAPTER 27

We don’t own the bikes, brothers, or any “related” Sons of Anarchy, trust us, if we did we wouldn’t have the time to write. No money is being made from our stories. So, please don’t sue. It’d be a fruitless endeavor indeed. That being said, Harley, Journee, and any other newbies are ours, and we don��t share. :Whispers in creepy voice: “My precious.” The universe This reality is a mix of cannon, and our own ideas. We strive to keep the boys cannon, but since we will be shifting around some of the events, that will reflect in our writing and their personalities as well. It’s our goal to provide you with quality fiction, and solid, fleshed out OFC. We appreciate constructive criticism and love LOVE reviews, they are a writers life blood and definitely help encourage us and inspire us. We will be posting on our Tumblr where we’ll have fun pictures from time to time as well. http://tellerford13.tumblr.com We’ll also be taking requests for one shots, preferences or imagines for all things Sons at our other Tumblr, so check it out and send your thoughts!http://tellerford13oneshots.tumblr.com/ And just for fun, we’ve decided to start a Pinterest for the story! So if you want a glimpse at our girls and see into our world, check it out! https://www.pinterest.com/tellerford/

                                                       A/N:

Can I just say we love our readers. I know sometimes life throws off our posting schedules. ( stupid adulting) But you guys continue to stand by us and review. Believe us ; nothing makes going without sleep to get out another chapter of Mo worth it like reviews! As a writer, it can be a challenge for Telford juggle large word counts, edits, marketing, and book signings, with Mo Astor, but both of us are crazy committed to continuing to produce quality work on this story.

                                           Mo Astor Chapter 27

Jax

I study the girls through the glass sliding doors while I smoke. When Ma has this many people over she prefers when we take it outside other wise the house looks too damn foggy to move. It feels good having everyone under one roof. Things weren’t the same with J gone. Not when I’m trying to keep volcano Wendy from erupting, and she damn near did. Our talk in the car helped me clear my head and see things from her point of view. Having children is a huge deal. I’ll be dealing with Wendy for at least eighteen years, and my relationship with Lee is new. She needs reassurance, and I need to figure out exactly what fatherhood and us together are going to look like moving forward.    

Wendy’s meltdown convinced me of that. She needs guidelines and structure, or she veers off into the wrong lane and starts making up her own scenarios. I can see now that until I outed our relationship at the wedding, she thought we stood a chance of getting back together. It’s my fault. We’ve always broken up and made up. It was like I lived for that, this almost desperate need she had for approval and belonging. It made me feel like I was in control and wanted. After the shit storm that hit my life at fifteen, I needed it. Losing my brother, my father, and being blatantly rejected by my high school sweetheart Tara back to back, broke something inside me.

I got self-involved, greedy, and disconnected. Opening my eyes and seeing what I had in front of me with Lee, and seeing Chibs and Journee do it the right way began an awakening. I’d grown to think maybe relationships in this life were bullshit at best, and dangerous at worst. My mother was never the same after losing my father. It was like something had been siphoned from her spirit. I didn’t want that. Then I watched Chibs with my sister. They bring out the best in each other. She never tries to make him change , and he soothes her fears.

“Something on yer mind Jackie boy?” Chibs asks.

I shake my head. “Feeling lucky actually.”

“As ye should. Those women in there are top notch. The kind ye could search the world over and never find, so I suggest you make sure you got your head on right.”

I glance at Chibs. He has a way of talking to you instead of at you, so when he says something that definite, I’m more prone to listen.

“What do you mean?”

“Seen you self-destruct one too many times. You screw up with this girl, and you’ll be kicking yourself in the arse for the rest of yer life.”

“I’m not going to.”  

“Hmmm.”

I narrow my gaze and take a long draw. It’s clear he has more to say, but he won’t unless he’s invited to.

“What was the hmm for.”

“I believe you won’t do it on purpose.”

“I know Lee better than damn near anyone.”

“Yeah as a friend.”

I turn my body toward him and frown. “And that’s so different?”

“Aye lad, and you’d best learn that quickly.”

“Enlighten me, wise man.”

He snickers. “Since you asked so nicely. I reckon I will.”

I smirk.

Chibs has always gotten me. I was drawn toward him since my father died. Clay has never been what you’d call the fatherly type. We’ve come to an understanding over time, but we’d never be close. If I’m honest, a part of me resents how quickly he slipped in after my old man’s death. Had he been waiting in the wings the entire time for an opening? I never dared to ask him or her. I love my mom, but she has some shadiness going. I like to believe he was a rebound or a distraction to help her keep it together.

She took Tommy’s death harder than anyone. Thank God for Sugar getting arrested and Baby J coming to live with us. It helped her focus her obsession onto someone else. It’s how J wound up with our last name tacked on to hers. Mom went all out, and we let her because it lifted her from the severe depression she landed in. People think she’s hell on wheels now, but they have no clue how bad it can get.

“You’re both figuring things out. You can’t expect her to read your mind or “get it.” You ain’t the best communicator Jackie boy. That’s got to change.”

“I think I do alright.”  I shrug.

“Got to step up your game. You’ve got a lot of juggling to do between Wendy, the baby, and Lee.”

“I know. I have been thinking about that.” I admit with a sigh.

“Maybe you aren’t as hopeless as I thought,” he mumbles.

“Ouch.”

“You’ve been living on planet Jackie, population of one for a long time now. Changing isn’t the easy thing for men like us. We don’t have to try with women. They throw themselves at our feet. Sure ye were serious with Wendy, but yew didn’t respect her. Not really.”

I nod my head. He’s right.

“I didn’t have to.”

“Exactly. You pull any of that crap with Lee, and she and Mo Astor will have your balls on a platter.”

I shudder. “You aren’t wrong.”

“How are you going to handle this Wendy mess?”

“I don’t know. I’m not trying to force Lee into making huge decisions. She’s never operated that way. But boundaries and respect need to be established. I’m walking through a field of landmines and trying not to be blown up.”

“What are yew expecting to do once the babe comes?”

I shake my head. “No clue.”

“Best be figuring it out. They don’t stay in utero forever.”

“I plan on having a calm talk about it this week with Wendy.”

Chibs chuckles. “Good luck with that.”

“You’re all heart, brother.”

“Just enjoying seeing ye brought down to reality with the rest of us.”

I scowl as we continue to smoke.

”You think I’m asking too much of Lee too soon? A baby is a lot of work, and Wendy is just this side of sane.”

“The lass knew what she was walking into. Seems to me like she doesn’t mind.”

“Guess that’s true.”

“If you’re really worried you should ask her.”

“Feels too soon. I need to make sure we’re solid first. I freaked her out when I left to think. Not sure why…she knows how I operate.”

“Aye, but she’s not just yer friend anymore. Make sure you let her know ya went to clear yer head, not escape her or leave her out of the loop. As tough as she is, love makes you vulnerable.”

The door opens, and Tig and Clay join us ending our heart to heart.

I have some work to do.

***

I follow Lee up the driveway.

“It was good seeing everyone wasn’t it?” She asks.

“Yeah, it’s been a minute since we had a family dinner like that.”

“Which is why Mama was chomping at the bit to get us all in one place. It’s weird, now that you mention it, things have been slipping on the family front,” Lee says as she unlocks the front door to her house.

“That’s because Clay couldn’t give a shit. He humors my mom, but I don’t get the feeling we give him the warm and fuzzies. Hell, J and I couldn’t get out of that house fast enough. You remember. You guys moved in with me as soon as I got my own place until you started college.”

“Yeah. It was so different from when JT was alive.”

“That’s an understatement.”  I don’t mind talking about my dad to certain people.

We step inside, and I think about Chibs’ words.

“So, I wanted to talk to you...”

She tenses.

“It’s nothing bad.”

“You don’t do talks, Jax.”

“Which is why I need to start. When I left after Wendy, it wasn’t about you. It was about the situation. I needed time to think about what happened and how to handle it. I’ve never seen Wendy like that. She’s always such a push over. Realizing that her state of mind and well-being affect my kid now and in the future, shook me. I need to figure out what the hell life with a kid is going to look like. I’m not big on talking until I’m ready. You know that, but I forgot that being together places us in new territory. I know you don’t like leaving things up in the air. You like everything to be neat, tidy and wrapped with a bow. But I’m messy, babe. I like to sort the shit show out in my head before I share.”

Her eyes widen. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I could see the worry in your eyes and I knew I put it there. It wasn’t my intention. I’m impulsive as hell. This is a thing we both know. But I don’t want that to affect you—.”

Her scowl stops me in mid-sentence.

“I don’t need you to baby me because my father wrecked me with his bullshit. I know –

“Whoa. No one said that, Harley.”

She turns away from me and folds her arms over her chest. “Like you had to.”

“What the hell?” I grab her arm and spin her around.

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t.”

“Right. Poor little Lee never got enough love, and now she freaks out when people pull away.”

“Is that what happened?”

“We went through something major, and you were out the door what was I supposed to think?”

“That I’m trying to deal with a lot of shit. I’ve never been a father before Lee. I don’t know the first thing about shared custody or who has rights. Wendy is not reliable, and I’m afraid to set her off. I know stress isn’t good for pregnant women and honestly, I’m worried she’ll have a relapse.”

“Selfish Bitch.”

“It’s a disease, and she’s got it bad. I’m all but shoving her to the edge right now, ending our relationship as soon as she finds out she’s pregnant and starting a relationship with the one woman she felt most insecure around on top of all the cheating, and lies. She’s not stupid. She turned a blind eye because all that mattered to her was that I came home to her and claimed her.”

“Jesus.”

“She’s like all of us looking for a place to belong. I lied when I told her that place would be beside me and she’s reeling.” The shame creeps up inside me. I did a number on my ex-fiancée, and we’ll all be paying the price for that.

“So what Jackson? Are you saying want to end things?”

“Jesus, no Lee. I’m trying to find a way for us to all get along and work together to raise this child, cause you aren’t going anywhere and neither is she.”

“Jax…”

“No, I’m putting this all out there before it has a chance to blow up on either of us.  I been doing a lot of thinking. I’m going to try to smooth things over with her and come up with a middle ground.”

“She wants you back,” Lee whispers.

“She never had me.” I place my fingers under her chin and force her to meet my gaze.

“You don’t have anything to be worried about. Whatever tantrums she throws or blow back she tries to send our way falls on me. I’ll handle it. Do you understand me?” She nods.

“I don’t want to be the reason you have issues with your child.”

“That bitch doesn’t have enough power to make that happen. It’s going to be a rocky ride for a minute here, but it’ll smooth out.”  I meet her too bright eyes. “You believe me?”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” She whispers.

“No worrying. We’ll deal with things as they come.”

She sighs, dropping her folded arms as the tension leaves her body.  “Alright.”

I mentally rejoice. She can get stuck on things and keep re-examining them on some sort of crazed loop. I have a cure for that. A delicious distraction we’ll both enjoy.

“Speaking of taking things as they come.”

She shakes her head and giggles. “Really?”

I cup the back of her neck and bring her lips to mine. Her laughter turns to moans as her body molds to mine, and I use my other hand to palm the curve of her ass. She tilts her head and wraps her arms around my neck, and I know I got her. I slide my hand down her back, cup the opposite cheek and lift her up. Her legs wrap around my waist and her warm center searing me through our layers of clothes have me rock hard. She rocks against the bulge forming in my pants, and I grunt. Our tongues tangle, and I make my way to the bedroom. I stumble through the doorway, desperate for skin to skin contacts. We tear at each others’ clothes as the urgency hits. I need to be surrounded inside her where only I’m allowed.

Our lips war as teeth clank, tongues duel and lips suck and nibble. We manage to strip each other bare and move to the bed. I reach between us to check her center. Slick with a swollen clit, she’s ready for me. I swallow her moan. Right now everything she has to give belongs to me.

“You’re so ready for me.” I grip her hips and  drive home. She cries out, arching off the bed as her legs grip my hips. Her nails down my back have me pounding into her wetness. “Harder.” She gives back what I give. The head board knocks against the wall as I bottom out, going deeper with every stroke. I clench the sheets and grit my teeth as she flexes her muscles. It’s a battlefield. A safe place to burn off all our frustrations. My heart pounds in my chest and my cock is granite. I grit my teeth as she tightens around me, shuddering as she finds her own release. I follow swiftly behind, spending myself inside her body. I rest my head on her chest as I keep my weight balanced on my forearms. The only sound in the dark room is our ragged breathing as we allow the afterglow to fill the space, chase away the doubt and worry, and cocoon us like a warm blanket.