#yet another downside of being a broke bitch

[goofnuggetkarlaa]

man, looking at the merch for the xiv fanfest and its like... the jacket i wanted so bad is $185, and the silver azem necklace is $250 =.=

and then i see the cute cheaper stuff like the little ancient one keychain thats like $15 but its sold out already. its so annoying q.q

i just ended up getting the new reaper job stone magnet and the ast and drk ones i missed out on last time (cause they sold out so quickly lol) but i was REALLY wanting that jacket... i wonder if i can find some knock-offs for a reasonable price...

[theaveragepsychoticbitch]

Selcouth

Pinterest board full of writing shit finally came in handy with this one, huh? BTW anon- I added Thor because I'm a shitty whore, and I’m dying to write about other RoR characters

Selcouth- odd, unusual, or extraordinary in appearance, effect, manner, etc;

Synopsis: Reader recounts the night they met from their POV

Warnings/Pairings: Reader x Thor/Poseidon (separate, SFW) | Being chased, mid mentions of blood and murder on Poseidon's part

-This post is a bitch to scroll down so I’m readmoring that shit-

THOR

Energy permeated throughout every inch of your being as your eyes widened in wonder, your breath hitched in amazement, and every last word on your tongue died in anticipation for the sight before you.

At the cliff’s edge stood a mountain of man, with hair so fiery you could see it clearly even in the downpour. It draped around his shoulders and fell down his back in wet, graceful clumps. A howling wind joined the raindrops' symphony, sending a shiver down your spine. The cold was bad enough even with the thickest coat on, yet here he stood, without even a hood for his head. In fact, he seemed perfectly at home among the cacophonous noise and relentless shower.

The signature boom! of another round of thunder shook the ground, bringing you to your knees. Viewing him from this angle, a stray ray of light allowed you to see his face. The gold of his irises sparkled against the black surrounding them, the water that slid over his face made those strange black lines shimmer with a certain kind of glow you thought you’d never see again.

You wondered if your eyes deceived you as you saw the hammer he carried. 

It was monstrous in size, and emitted an air of intelligence no being of metal should have. With awe you watched as he lifted it above his head, and realized he was winding it back as he bent to lower the hammer behind him. With the speed of a strike of lighting, he sent it flying through the air, high enough to pierce the clouds and enter the heavens.

The resulting blast blew the dark storm clouds away, leaving a bright blue sky and a brighter yellow sun in their stead. It was blinding, but a couple blinks later you could withstand it. What you couldn’t stand, however, was the small smile on his face as he stared down at you, giant hammer resting on his shoulder.

His voice was deep and quiet, but you heard him clearly nevertheless. 

“Wanna fight?”

-----

Thor blew an amused breath from his nose, readjusting his hold on you as he sat up in the large chair. “I have no memory of ever asking you to fight.”

You chuckled at his observation, struggling to speak around your smile, “Are you sure? As battle-crazed as you are, you’d probably fight an ant if it was bold enough to crawl on your shoe.” You couldn’t resist the urge to laugh at your own joke, grasping at his strong biceps as your giggles almost sent you off the chair and onto the hard marble floor of Thor’s room. You’d fallen on it before, the first time you came in his room, and realized quickly it was not a repeat-worthy experience. 

“I’d never fight you.” There he went again. Being romantic out of nowhere. It was even better because you knew he didn’t mean it as a romantic gesture, it was simply how he felt, pure and simple. “Below that, I would never fight someone as small and scrawny as you. I’d crush you.” You bit back the smartass comment on your tongue and rolled your eyes. The downside of him always stating his pure and simple thoughts was this: words that would just be teasing with anyone else weren’t teasing with him. Somedays, you wondered if he knew what teasing was. Maybe you should teach him.

Silence fell over the two of you, a happy hum in your throat as you enjoyed each other’s presence. To your surprise, it was he who broke the silence. 

“Is that really how you saw me?” It took a moment to realize he meant the first night you saw him.

“Yeah... You’re quite the majestic sight every time you do your job, but there will never be anything quite like that first time. When everything was new and unexpected. You were.... Selcouth. Like a unicorn.” You felt him stiffen, and then,

“A unicorn?” His confusion was evident by his tone. You smiled, saying, "Yeah. A unicorn.”

POSEIDON

Had you had an ounce of humor left in you, you'd have thought the crashing waves made excellent background music to the sound of your bare feet hitting the gravel. Like a movie scene.

But this was real life, and the pain as glass pierced your soles was real.

Your dangerous lack of air was real, and the numb, heavy filling spreading to all your limbs as you reached the very limits of exertion was all too real. The person behind you- you could hear their breathe clearer than ever now.

Their footsteps were still going strong, and a scream ripped free from your throat as you felt their fingers attempt to snag your shirt.

Another random turn took your mad race to the beach.

The abruptness of your change in direction sent you spiraling into the sand, choking on a scream as sand replaced air and your stalker's body weight crushed your back.

Tears. Fresh, hot, and large, they ran down your face in constant streams as the bastard's sinister chuckle filled the space around you. You glanced towards the ocean.

There it was, enchanting as ever in the new dawn's light. Strong and unwavering, there was no one who could fight the sea and win.

For a moment, you wished you were the sea.

A bitter wave of tears appeared at the thought. You could never be the sea, but...

You sent a silent prayer that just once, even if only for today, you could have the ocean's strength at your side.

Closing your eyes, you prepared for the worse as the bastard's hands began to roam.

Almost as quickly, you heard a choked gurgle sound, paired with the sound of skin being split open.

Soon as the stalker's bodyweight was gone, you were scrambling to your feet, not wasting a second as you made space between their body and yours.

Gazing at the sight before you, a certain fondness bloomed in your heart for the cold-looking man before you.

The force of his anger would have brought you to your knees if they could move. Waves, sparkling in the sunlight, swirled fast around his lower body, as if attuned to his rage. Eyes rising past a chiseled abdomen and heaven-sculpted arms, you land on a face you thought could put a god's to shame. Smooth skin, and cold, dead eyes that gleamed with killing intent. His perfect face was framed by beautiful light blonde locks, and you found yourself wondering if they were soft as they looked.

A turquoise trident was in his raised hand, and your stalker's was on the end of it. Blood trickled over his pale fingers, and with a look of disgust, the man sent them flying with a single swift movement. You watched in amazement as the body flew beyond where you could see.

Your eyes snapped back to where your mysterious saviour stood, and a new wave of awe settled over you. He looked enchanting, blood dripping from his arm to dye the water surrounding him a light red and all.

He approached in two swift steps; his legs were quite long, you noticed, and just as muscled as the rest of him.

Anticipation would have made your words catch in your throat if there was any air for them to exist in the first place.

Realizing you'd stopped breathing, your knees gave out as you hacked up sand from your throat while trying to get in a single decent breath or two. It was embarrassing, you thought, having this perfect-looking man gaze down at you, still wearing that threatening grimace, as you coughed up sand. It took a moment to get your breath back, but when you could finally speak again, the first words you uttered were

"Thank you."

Your clothes were getting wet from water flung off by the waves, still furious in their motions, and the silence was starting to feel oppressive. Even though he seemed to regard you as less than, he had a powerful air about him, one that kept your mouth shut and your eyes on his.

With a single turn on his heel he made for the ocean, saying over his shoulder, "Don't look me in my eye again, mortal."

As he disappeared among the waves, your last thought was how you weren't aware a voice so deep could have such a melodic tone to it.

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

Poseidon hadn't stopped looking at you since you started talking, and it was starting to make you feel shy.

You returned his powerful gaze, and he smirked in amusement at your attempt to recreate his glare. "I remember that night well. You sent many prayers after, each more insistent and annoying."

You chuckled a bit, glad to see the serious mood gone for a little bit.

"I recall another specific memory after that, where after a another prayer on the beach a sea shell hit me in my forehead." The sentence is so ridiculous, you can't stop laughing, especially knowing it was your now-husband who did it.

He didn't smile, he practically never did. But in his eyes, there was the equivalent of a smile. Affection and joy swirled in those no longer cold, no longer dead eyes of his. Pulling you close, he said, "I'm glad I was there."

The serious mood was back, but it was gentler than before. Knowing that this conversation would be one he'd make you take to the grave, you responded through a smile. "Me too." You made yourself comfortable in his arms, the bed creaking as the two of you moved about, happy in each other's presence. Happy with the strength of the seas at your side.

Sunlight filtered in through the windows, and you turned your head to find the ocean sparkling anew, much like on that day. A word popped into your head, and you realized it described him perfectly.

"Selcouth"

His attention was on you again, unwavering like the sea he ruled over.

"Selcouth. It was the perfect word to describe you then, and it's the perfect word to describe you now." To your great surprise, he chuckled, and while no words were said, the kiss he planted on your lips told you everything.

He thought you were selcouth too.

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

A/N: Why the FUCK can't I finish anything in the daytime. When shit is reasonable, ya'know? Also, it think I'm gonna keep this top-part formatting for when I do multi-character posts. It's just easier.

But anyways, I'm glad I finally finished this. Guess a fresh wave of trauma really poked my need to write,,(;;;・_・)

ANYWAYS AGAIN, I hope y'all enjoy and anon, I'm SO fucking sorry this took so long. I finally have a phone again (the last broke and my computer and tablet are no good for writing) plus I was having some trouble designing Poseidon's part. If they (Thor and Poseidon's parts) seem different, it's because two different people wrote them. Aka me and me after 2022 happened.

Other than my ramblings, you guys know the deal. Spell check me, and feedback is appreciated. Especially comments *wink wink*

[mediocre-writerr]

august [quinn fabray]

Quinn Fabray x fem reader

Request: Hey this is really good. I was wondering if you could actually write a part explaining what actually happened. I don’t know why I like to torture myself but I like a good angsty piece. Thank you so much. Amazing writing

*not my gif*

Summer after junior year was a busy time for you. You were interning at this awesome place to help boost up your dream career in Pennsylvania. 

The downside of it all was being away from your girlfriend Quinn. The two of you would Skype and text all the time, but being away from her really put a strain on the two of you. 

But both of you knew that you’d be back home to each other soon.

Beginning of junior year, you broke down Quinn’s high up walls. After Sam tried and failed, you decided to step up and see if The Quinn Fabray will somehow like you back. 

And she did. She was in love with all of your quirks. The way your nose crinkles when she kisses it lightly or how excited you get over the smallest things. 

There was nothing she loved more in the world than you.

It was the second week of August. You only had two more weeks until you could finally come home to your lover. But just as the days were drifting away, so it seemed Quinn. 

Her texts were short. The nights where the two of you would Skype were long gone or would happen into late hours of the night. 

“Quinn?” you ask getting her attention from the book she was reading and she just hummed in response, “Why have you been distant lately?” 

The two of you were on Skype just sitting there in a somewhat tense and awkward silence. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sit in silence and just do other things while relishing in one another’s presence. 

But this was just deafening. 

“I’ve just been really busy lately.” she says. 

Bullshit, you thought. 

“Oh okay.” you whisper. A little saddened at your girlfriend not telling you the truth. 

Quinn lets out a small sigh, “You know I love you, right?” she asks. 

You turn to look at the screen to find the book down and her staring at you with softened eyes, “I do. I love you more.” you answer and a small smile creeps onto her face before shoving her nose in her book. 

As much as you loved your internship, you were happy to be home. You walked yourself to baggage claim knowing that your parents were gonna pick you up there. Your earbuds were in as they played the playlist Quinn made for you on your six months anniversary. 

After a long conversation with your parents filled with useless directions you finally found them. Telling them all about your amazing internship and how much you leaned.

But you were cut off when someone wrapped their arms around you from behind. You turned around startled to be met face to face with your blonde beauty. You let out a small squeal before throwing yourself into her arms. 

She held you in her arms, tightening them around your frame. Quinn took in your scent and she never wanted to let you go. She never wanted to lose you. 

But in that moment Quinn already knew that she may definitely lose you. Especially if you ever found out what happened the past three weeks. 

You pulled away from Quinn to see flowers in her hand, “Love you didn’t have to do all of this.” 

“I did. You deserve all of it. Plus we missed two anniversaries since you’ve been gone. It’s the least I can do.” she says smiling at you with her perfect smile. 

Quinn never left your side when you got back to Lima. The two of you were attached at the hip. Wherever one went the other had to follow. 

As the weeks went by school started back up again. And for some odd reason Santana was more of a bitch to you than usual. She was on your throat about every little idea you pitched in glee club. She was never this bad. 

“Santana will you please stop being a bitch to my girlfriend?” Quinn asks in the middle of glee club after Santana went on the fifth rant this week about one of your many insecurities. 

It was the fifth rant this week, but it was only Wednesday so that’s saying how much hell she brought to you this week. 

Santana scoffed before giving Quinn a look, “What a good girlfriend you are.” she says somewhat passive aggressively. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask trying to defend her.

“It means your girlfriend actually sucks!” Santana yells and everyone in the room seems to feel the tension in the room. 

“Just let her be.” Quinn mumbles, “Can we move on?”

“Yes please let’s move on!” Mr. Shue yells and goes on to whatever lesson he was talking about. 

You put your hand into Quinn’s giving her a soft little squeeze. She turned to you with a smile that didn’t quite reach her emerald green eyes. 

After another week of back to school it seemed as if everyone was walking on egg shells around you. Everyone seemed to be holding back on what they were trying to say. Everyone seemed tense and no one was happy anymore. 

And everyone seemed to know except you. 

It was just another Thursday when the news dropped on you. When your worst nightmares came true. 

“Hey Y/N.” Rachel came up to you when you were at your locker. 

“Rachel.” you say as you shove your books into your lockers, “What’s up?” 

“I need to be honest with you. Everyone doesn’t want to tell you the truth, but everyday I see you and Quinn pretends everything’s okay when it’s not. You deserve to know the truth.” she says somberly.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, rolling your eyes.

Yet another one of Rachel Berry’s weird grudge against your girlfriend.

“She cheated on you with Santana when you went to Pennsylvania.”

A/N: Pt.3 will be from Quinn’s perspective and will be coming soon :)

[writerofblocks]

*sneaks this in* Bridget/Troy - things you said with no space between us (or) things you didn’t say at all

This was. From a long ass time ago. BUT ITS FINISHED NOW SO IM POSTING IT.

Sleepless in Stilwater

“Three.”

“Hmm?”

Troy held up three fingers. “That’s the third time you’ve yawned in as many minutes. And I’d be okay with that if you weren’t, you know, doin’ seventy on a forty-five mile an hour highway.”

Bridget broke eye contact with the road long enough to give him a sidelong glare that would wither a lesser man. “I’m not the only one doing their best Fast and the Furious impression out there,” she irritably shot back. A sports car rushed past them with an ear splitting squeal that made Troy jump, and she gestured at it. “See?”

Troy sunk back into the leather seat of the [insert car model here], returning her glare with one of his own. “That’s not the point and you know it. The point is I’d rather not end up a red smear on the pavement because my wheel man fell asleep at the goddamn wheel.”

“Oh, is that all I-” Her mouth cracked open into another face-splitting yawn; she barely managed to hide it behind her hand. “-all I am to you? Your wheel man?”

“Four. And don’t give me that crap, you’re the one that called dibs on driving.”

“I only called dibs cause you drive like a grandma on a broken scooter.”

“You mean I drive the speed limit.”

Bridget ignored him. “Besides,” she said, swerving around a semi-truck sharp enough to make him grab at the handle above the passenger window, “I’ve got places to be after this. Julius called me about a-” she let out another yawn. “-about a storage place, said the Rollerz keep their best wheels there.”

A smirk crossed Troy’s face. He waited until Bridget’s attention was on him before he held up five fingers and wiggled them. It was worth it to see the way her eyebrows dropped into a sharp V before she jabbed a finger in his direction. “Don’t you fucking say it.”

“Don’t need to say anything.”

The one finger swiftly flipped upward into giving him the bird as she returned her attention to the highway. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you out on the highway this second,” she growled, though a smile playing at the corners of her lips undercut the hostile tone.

Troy chuckled, then settled back in his seat enough to look out the car window. Stilwater was a shithole on a good day, but the oranges, purples, and blues of sunset colored the world into something more palpable to take in. Light bounced off the towering buildings of Downtown, harsh edges and cold, reflective glass softening under the gentle touch of twilight. But you could only watch buildings whiz by for so long. His gaze, as it so often did in these rare quiet moments, returned to her.

As much as he bitched about it, there was one thing he didn’t mind about Bridget being the go-to driver. It allowed him time to just… take her in. Look openly, without other people seeing and giving him crap for being lovestruck. Without her giving him crap for being lovestruck, because even after the months they’ve been together she still shied away from open affection more often than not. She cuts the sentiment with a joke, or by teasing him, or some combination of both. He doesn’t mind it- he wonders sometimes if he’s a glutton for punishment, given his career path and choice of romantic partner, but he doesn’t mind being so. Not with her around.

So he looks at her. The way her eyelids keep fluttering slightly, only for her to stubbornly hold them back open. The dark circles he’d think were black eyes if they weren’t only on her lower eyelids. She’s tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, jiggling the leg not in charge of the pedals. Any motion to tell her body it isn’t time to sleep yet. He’d make a joke about looking in a mirror if seeing it didn’t bother him so much.

That was the downside of being undercover. You got real good at seeing things people tried to hide. He had to say something. He opened his mouth, and...

“For real, though. You look like shit. Have you slept at all?”

And of course something stupid came out. Miracle of miracles, she scoffed instead of chucking him onto the highway. “Bold move to question my sleeping habits. How many used coffee mugs are on your desk again?”

Troy chose to ignore her words. “Look man, just-” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “-go home. Take a shower or something. Get some food. You need a break, Bridge.”

Bridget’s face was impassive, staring straight forward as she shifted the car into the express lane. “Can’t. Julius-”

Enough of this. “Did he tell you to do it tonight?” he asked, cutting her off before she could restate whatever bullshit task Julius had given her to do on top of everything else he’d piled on her. For fuck’s sake, sometimes it felt like she was carrying the whole gang by herself in between the tasks Julius sent down the pipeline and the duties she’d taken on herself to perform.

The glare she gave him could melt permafrost. “No.”

“Then do it tomorrow when you’re fresh.”

“I’m fresh enough,” she bit out. “You’re worrying way too much-”

The words burst from his chest before he could vet them. “I’m worrying the right goddamned amount for someone watching a person he cares about take way more shit on than she needs to.”

Bridget’s eyes went wide, whatever she’d been about to say dying in her open mouth.

Troy ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if this is some macho attempt to prove yourself or some shit, but you don’t have to do this. Slow down. Take care of yourself. Just- please.”

She was quiet for several minutes, eyes locked on the road as she slowed to match the speed of traffic. He’d almost given up on getting a response before she spoke again. “I won’t go to the storage place tonight. It’s-” She swallowed. “It’s late. Rollerz’ll be getting the cars out for races by now, there’s bound to be way more hanging around than during the day.”

He knows those justifications. Her saying he’s right without saying it directly. When she spoke again, her voice was careful. “Got anything else going on later?”

Manila folders scattered across a coffee table, a rapidly growing pile of cigarette stubs as he figures out the best way to ruin his friend’s lives-

“Nothing that can’t wait.”

When Bridget had first joined the Saints, Troy had thought her unreadable. It was easier now to read her once he knew what to look for. Her rubbing her thumb against the side of her index finger- something self soothing. Bouncing her leg- buying time to think. The lift of her head to look at him directly- she was searching him, weighing his reaction. “Feel like staying over?”

Always. “If you want me to.”

The tension in Bridget’s shoulders dissipated, and she gave him a small smile. “Of course I do, that’s why I asked,” she replied, punching him in the arm. “Dumbass.”

===

Rain tapped an improv jazz rhythm on the glass of Bridget’s bedroom window, and Troy couldn’t sleep. Blame the cigarettes, the coffee, the crippling anxiety and paranoia. The cause ultimately didn’t matter, the effect was the digital clock on Bridget’s bedside table hit 2AM and he was no closer to falling asleep than he was when he originally lay down. Bridget, though. Bridget had been asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a moment of satisfying vindication.

He rolled over, resting a hand on her arm.

It was strange to see Bridget asleep. If Bridget was awake, she was moving- tapping her foot, shifting from side to side. She bounced her heels if a meeting went too long, rattling the table until he placed a hand on her thigh to get her to stop (among… other reasons). If she chose to talk, she talked with her whole body, her hands dancing in the air. Even when she was seated and still, a part of her still seemed to tremble with energy, anticipation and eagerness. Not now, though. Now she laid there, the rise and fall of her chest the only motion. Light drifted through the cracks in the blinds from the streetlight outside her window, resting softly on the freckles on her cheeks.

His hand traveled down her arm, into the dip of her waist, over the swell of her hip bone. Bridget wasn’t a paper-thin waif by any stretch of the imagination, but without the bulk of her sweatshirt to fill out her usual silhouette, she looked… smaller. More vulnerable. Which was ridiculous, he’d seen what she could do with a gun- hell, forget a gun, he’d seen the havoc she created with her fists alone- but somehow. Somehow that veneer was stripped away in the hazy orange light of a half-dead lamppost bulb, and the only thing left was a tired twenty-one year old who needed a hell of a lot more sleep than she was getting.

Christ. She really was twenty-one, wasn’t she? The face she wore around the other Saints made her seem older than that. It was all harsh angles and stony silences, only a twitch of a smile or a slight furrow in her brow betraying the emotions running electric through her veins. The uncertainty there at the beginning had long since suffocated under a rap sheet he hated to tally up in his head. It was a thing with no remorse, and little room for mercy.

And yet that face was forgotten in her sleep. The ever present tension slackened, releasing that hardened shell and letting it fall away in favor of something softer. She denied the existence of that softness, but he knew. He was allowed to know, he realized, warmth settling in his chest at the thought. Of all people, she’d offered that gift to him.

And it’s a gift you’ll lose soon.

The thought cut a sharp line through the haze, frozen against the warmth of the moment. Troy stilled, his hand resting on her waist. Somewhere in between the light on her cheeks and the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, he’d forgotten what would be waiting for them. That as much as he tried to dodge and delay, the day Chief Monroe decided it was time to pull the plug on the Saints was coming sooner than later- and Bridget, ambitious and unknowing, was only hastening that end.

His sigh was frayed, thin and trailing off into nothing. This relationship was never going to last forever. He’d known that going in, had willingly condemned them both to heartbreak, but it hadn’t mattered then. That future had drowned in the affection in her gaze. The warmth of her laughter. The spark of her lips on his. But now…

Troy cupped Bridget’s cheek, pressing his forehead gently against hers as he closed his eyes. “I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered. He had to say it, just once. Even if she didn’t hear it- since she would never hear it- it needed to escape before it withered under his held tongue. It needed to exist, just for a moment, all his regrets pouring into that simple, weighted phrase.

At some point she’d wake up, either through him gently shaking her or her own merit. Either way she’d grouch at him for not waking her up sooner, blinking blearily at him in a hopelessly endearing way she’d punch him for if he ever mentioned it. She’d whip the covers off of both of them, laughing when he protests. Showers would follow, breakfast of some sort, and time would continue to march forward to that inevitable, heartbreaking point.

But that was a future they didn’t have to face yet. For now, they could stay like this- curling into each other, breath to breath and at peace.

For now, he’d save her a rude awakening.

[beautifulweird0]

Forgiving Your Parents

I know too many people who’ve experienced some form of trauma from their parents. This isn’t a blog about bashing your folks- this is hopefully a post that will help salvage some strained parent and child relationships. Cause I been there, done that-and understanding your parent is only feasible if your parent is interested in understanding you.

My disclaimer is this: The child isn’t responsible for mending the relationship...solely. I’mma tell you like this, if your parent doesn’t want anything to do with you...skip em’.

   Because that’s backwards as hell and that takes away from loving yourself. Anyway you chop it, if you find yourself forcing yourself on a “parent”, the relationship isn’t going to go anywhere-AND THAT’S NOT YOUR FAULT OR CONCERN. YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL! YOU ARE EXTREMELY WORTHY. I’m so sorry your people ain’t solid; it’s a reflection of them-not you.

It’s my belief that something is wrong with a person if they want no parts of having a relationship with their child. Literally so messed up from their own unhealed traumas that they can’t find it within themselves to love someone they created…

Ain’t no fixing on that unless you take they ass to a therapist.

Moving on.

I’ve always had such a strong feeling in my gut when I come across new people. It’s like they look at me and think I got it all. Truly looking at me and seeing a woman who doesn’t have insecurities or childhood traumas spotted along her path cause I’m kind and always make it a point to smile like Granny told me.

    I’m usually a private person. But its always been that ‘pull’ on me-telling me… “It’s another little girl that is going through the same stuff you went through. Say that shit anyway. And with your chest.” .

Think about it...

Can’t a soul embarrass you about some stuff you open about. That takes all the fun out of their miserable lives if folks know wassup already.

    So as a 22 year old woman that been through some mess with her people, let me share pieces of me. Cause the last thing you want on your conscience is one of your parents passing and ya’ll not being on the best of terms.

I was listening to Mad Bitches the other day and Mikhala Jene said something along the lines of, “Nobody living is perfect”.

That hit me a little different. Like damn...nobody walks this earth perfect so...why do we expect perfection (again, subconsciously).

THIS.

   This is why I say if your parent is trying, then work with them. If they sit down with you and tell you how life was for them coming up. The good parts, the ugly parts, and everything in-between. Trying their best to be authentic and build a bond, then meet em’ halfway (if they haven’t been on some stuff that’s just unforgivable).

And shit, our people ain’t have everything at their fingertips as we do. The apps that spread information quicker than you could sneeze, weren't available. They couldn’t go on a ‘self-care’ page to calm themselves down if triggered or go on YouTube and watch motivational videos. Not making excuses, just using a little perspective that helps me! Yet and still, let your parent(s) know if they did something to wrong you; you gotta’ have respect for yourself as a human. Period.

   I didn’t find out who my biological father was until I was about 16 years old. Up until that point I believed another man was my father (which he is still and will always be!).

Sooo...I already had abandonment issues from my parents and my dad lived in a way at that time, that all parties involved thought it was best my grandparents took us in. That’s all I know is Granny’s (& Grandpa’s) house since I was a baby.

    It helped that when my mom told me who my biological dad was, she was in a much better state of mind and stable-but man...I didn’t know what to feel. My sister was more upset than me (cause we have the same dad hypothetically).

     So many questions ran through my head that I couldn’t even cry or be mad. I was shocked. Everyone played their role so well…

There was a long road ahead of me. Not only did I have to forgive my mom and dad for lying to me for so long, but there was a father in the same city I had yet to know.

My first point is patience. If you aren’t going to be patient with an end goal for you and your parent, you’re wasting your time. Being prepared for them to fumble sometimes is mandatory if y’all going to get to a better place. You mess up on certain projects or what have you’s a few times before you get it right...right?

Give your parent the same energy if you were in their shoes. Cause baby...ain’t nothing worse than admitting your wrongs and still getting beat down. I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at my mom in that moment where she was vulnerable and upset cause she knew she played a part in hurting me. What was it gone do but make me feel bad and her feel worse?

     Blowing up wasn’t going to change what happened now 22 years ago.

Yeah, there’s hella’ books on parenting but I’mma tell y’all like my Granny told me, “There’s no such thing as a book on how to be a parent.”.

Having a child of my own- I’ve been witness to this. Folks can be shown and folks can be told on how to do certain things but with each child being different in this world, you have to be intune with them specifically- no book on that.

I was through hell and back with my mother and now we’re in an extremely better place because we both made the effort (more-so on her part 🌚).

But it was my responsibility to go into it with pure intentions and my guard down a bit after she made the effort; disappointment is what I expected sometimes cause I went into it knowing it was going to be a process.

Don’t get it confused,  my mom always knew how I was-that wasn’t the issue. The new end goal was getting to know each other again so I could understand her better so I could forgive her. That’s no sucka’ shit. Its real. Everybody in this life is going to disappoint you, one way or another. Better to know what you’re dealing with so you can assess the situation in order to better assess the person. Free game.

Another step to keep in mind is, boundaries. I just feel like it will make the whole exchange smoother-not easier- but smoother. The point of forgiving your parents and (if you chose) trying to build a relationship, is to have them know you for who you are NOW. Not when you were 5, not when you was 12...have them meet you at your level. They dropped the ball, not you. Sure...nobody asked to be here but that becomes invalid when you start having babies of your own. It’s a different ball game when you bring a life into this world. Your joys become the joy of your children but way too often we forget that our pain becomes theirs as well.

My father always tried too-the dad that I always knew as my dad. On weekends me and my sister would go to his house before he moved to Michigan. Man I was a daddies girl-still am. My grandparents had the house on lock, couldn't watch programs with cussing in it or too much violence. Life of having Southern Baptist grandparents I guess.

 The weekends at pops house was always interesting. I could watch all the music videos I wanted and watch the movies that didn't have too much goin on in them.

My dad would do different stuff with us like go to the library; he always knew I loved reading. Sometimes my dad would take us to the park or a friends house who had kids (how I met my husband), water parks, or even cooking dinner with me and my sister; plenty of quality time where I could talk to him about anything.

However, at the time, pops lived a certain lifestyle and no matter how hard he tried to shield it from us younger kids, I still seen things and experienced things a child shouldn't have. Again, comes with the lifestyle I guess.

My dad drunk...ALOT. And it was interesting to see the 'upsides' of alchoholism and the very big downsides. I'd never forget, I was maybe 8? Another weekend at my dads, just me and my sister (I have multiple brothers on that side too plus another sister), and I woke up one morning on the couch. My dad was goin through some things- all he had was a couch that he let me and my little sister sleep on. My 1st thought when I woke up was where was my dad sleeping? My sister was sleep, and it was still fairly early in the morning. I go back to the empty bedroom to find him sleep on the floor. No pillow. No cover. Just a beer in hand, laid out. That broke my heart.

Just remember feeling sad all over. I took the beer, threw it away then grabbed the pillow I had and laid it under his head. While doing so, my dad woke up, halfway and kissed my hand.

He told me straight up he loves me and he apologized. Didn't go into detail but he didn't have to. My dad never had his pops in his life, nor his mama until he was grown and was taking care of her though her illness.

I knew even at 8 years old that, that gotta hurt. I'm not gone sit here and act like I always understood the motives of my father but I tried because he always tried to understand me and til' this day, he is one of the top 3 people that KNOWS me like the back of his hand.

I had to forgive my parents because they’ve come a long way. Holding all that anger and resentment wasn’t gone help me in the long run. And in a way I can say I've helped to heal them by loving them through their screw ups. We always talk about a parents love but what about a child's love?

I don’t want to pass down my pain to my son, he don’t need that- the world will give its fair share. But everyday I pray that the world won’t hurt him bad. I want my son to be nothing less than strong mentally, emotionally, but most of all spiritually. He won’t have that unless I’m solid. So I ask myself… ‘hm, what’s still hurting me?’.

We all got a story to tell.

Love. Peace. Manifest.

[seokjinsdisciple]

Riddikulus - one

enemies to lovers!au

hogwarts!au

jungkook x reader

warnings: language, mentions of casual sex, kissing, idk man

Word Count: 2.3k

Ok! first part is below the cut :) i am trying my hardest to make this a reader insert without using y/n , but we will see how long that lasts...

Standing on the platform of 9 and 3/4 far before anyone else was there left you with an overwhelming sense of dread. Your 5th year of Hogwarts was starting, and your nerves had sky rocketed. You always got nervous waiting for the train, but this year it seemingly has amplified. Your brother, head boy of Ravenclaw and perfect child  stood waiting next to you. He had always been perceptive of feelings, especially yours. When you felt a slight squeeze of your hand you smiled. Leave it to Namjoon to calm you down, especially when your mother stood in front of you in her royal navy robes, admonishing you yet again for being in Slytherin. As if you could change it now. 

“I expect you to be on your best behavior this year. I don’t want to have to send any more howlers.”

You nodded at her, keeping silent. You knew you didn’t have the best reputation, especially considering you had broken the long line of Kim’s that was sorted into Ravenclaw. It was an immense disappointment to your family, a fact your mother never let you forget. 

You had come to terms with the sorting, in fact, you liked being in Slytherin. You was close friends with two boys, Min Yoongi and Park Jimin. Jimin was your year, and had stuck with you during your classes as the Gryffindors taunted you and the Ravenclaws did their best to pretend you didn’t exist. Well, everyone except your brother. That’s how you met Yoongi, he was one of your brother’s friends, and had taken you under his wing as a thank you to Namjoon for helping him pass Charms. Now, the three of you (plus a few other Slytherins your age) were as thick as thieves, literally. Your favorite activities were stealing all of the confiscated items from Filch’s office, most of the time it was booze, and you never fail to have a good time when you snag a few full bottles. 

“Hi there, snake princess,” Yoongi snaked his arm around your shoulders, as you waited for the train. 

“Yoongles,” You turned, throwing your arms around the dark-haired boy, grinning as the groan left his mouth at the nickname. 

“I told you not to call me that,” he whined, nodding in recognition over you, to Namjoon, as he pinched your arm in protest. You laughed, a lot calmer now that your parents had left. Yoongi threw your trunk on his cart, winking at you as the train finally arrived. You followed the two to an empty compartment, ready to reunite with the rest of your boys. 

Namjoon had played a large role in you actually having friends. He introduced you to his friends, and they introduced you to their friends from your year. Now, you were all as close as could be, well almost everyone. Jeon Jungkook, the arrogant asshole Gryffindor that tormented you your entire first year just so happened to be Namjoon’s boyfriend’s addition to your crew. You both despised each other, even despite the whole Slytherin, Gryffindor thing. However, he was one of Jimin’s best friends. So, it came as no surprise when you spotted your favorite silver-haired Slytherin surrounded by two other shaggy-haired heads. Jimin, Taehyung (a Hufflepuff who was as close to you as Jimin was), and Jeon fucking Jungkook were making their way to the compartment you were currently in. 

As soon as Jimin saw you, he barrelled into the compartment, smothering you in hugs and kissing your face. 

“Chim-” You laughed as his kisses tickled your nose. “JIMIN!”

“Hey! I want kisses,” drawing your attention away from the silver-haired boy pressed against you towards the giggly Taehyung, who piled on top of Jimin despite his protests and kissed you on the forehead. To your relief, the boys got off of you quickly, the compartment became a little tenser as Jungkook was standing hesitantly in the doorway. 

“I see my wish for you not to come back this year didn’t come true, Jeon. How disappointing,” you spoke coldly, causing his jaw to clench and all the boys to groan.

“Knock it off,” Tae whined at you, not happy that his two best friends were fighting. Jungkook just sat as far away as possible, not saying anything.

“He can defend himself, Taehyung,” you snapped, “Unless little Kookie is too scared. You’re not scared, are you Jeon?” 

A smirk covered your face as he snapped his head to look at you, a low growl leaving his mouth. 

“You’re such a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, causing another round of groans to fill the compartment. Jimin gave him a swift slap to the back of the head and your brother did the same to you. The compartment filled back up with idle chatter as you stared out of the window, trying to ignore the pout that was still lodged on Tae’s face. You hadn’t meant to snap at him, Jungkook just put you in a bad mood. You wanted to apologize, but Kook was sitting right next to him, and you valued your pride. 

“I’m going to the trolley,” You spoke quickly, ignoring the pleas of each of the boys to get them their favorite candy. You made your way through the train, stumbling upon Seonghwa before you stumbled on the trolley. You and Seonghwa had a small friends with benefits situation going on, and to say you both benefited heavily from it would be an understatement. So you weren’t surprised when he quickly strode over to you, pressing his lips to your neck. 

“God baby, I missed that pretty little ass,” He groaned against your neck as he harshly grabbed your ass. His lips trailed down your neck, sucking at the sensitive spots he knew so well. You whimpered at his touch, tugging his hair. His large, calloused hands made their way under the cropped shirt you were wearing, his mouth soon pushing the fabric aside to leave more hickeys. You were loving it, mewling under his skilled touch. You hadn’t seen Seongwha all summer, which meant you were deprived of his touch, and no one knew how to touch you like he did. You let out a whine as his hands tore off of you when a throat clearing broke up the moment. 

“Park Seonghwa, get back to your compartment and keep your hands to yourself,” Hufflepuff’s smiliest head boy chuckled as Seonghwa scurried away, before turning his attention to you, “and you, little missus, should be with your brother.”

“Hi Hobi,” You grinned as he opened his arms wide, waiting for your hug, which you gladly wrapped your arms around his waist. “Hey, have you seen the trolley?”

“Yes, ma’am, here follow me,” Hoseok smiled, taking your hand with a wink and leading you back towards the compartment filled with your friends. You heard the muffled noises of the trolley lady as you reached the back of the train. 

“What can I get you, dear?”

“Uh,” you started, trying to recall Tae’s favorite sweet, “Can I just have a chocolate frog please?” 

Hoseok looked at you quizzically, he knew you weren’t a huge fan of chocolate frogs, but if he had a question he didn’t ask. The two of you caught up on your summers, making small talk on the way back to the compartment. 

You hurried inside when you reached it, the boys not even noticing your presence due to Hobi greeting them before he had to go back on patrol. You sat on Tae’s lap, kissing his cheek and presenting him with the chocolate frog. You smiled as his face lit up.

“I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean it.” You lay your head on his shoulder, waiting for his forgiveness.

“I know, princess,” he kissed the top of your head, and that was that. 

“Good.”

You got off of his lap and sat back in the seat by the window, scowling when you saw who was sitting across from you. Pulling out your phone you scrolled through Instagram, feeling a harsh gaze on me, you glanced up. Jeon’s chocolate brown eyes bore into your neck, rising slightly as he noticed he had caught him.

“I’m flattered Jungkook, really, but please stop staring at me.”

“Trust me, I don't want anyone’s sloppy seconds,” he grinned, reminding you of the large number of hickeys that now covered your body.  Shit shit shit shit shit. Before you had the chance to pull your hair down to cover them, you felt Yoongi’s hand on your jaw, turning your head towards the rest of the boys and exposing the hickeys that trailed down your neck. 

“Jesus, fuck,” Yoongi practically growled, giving a look to my brother. 

“Fuck me,” you groaned, all of the boys now hovering around you and yelling. The older ones were scolding, but Jimin and Tae were yelling about needing to know the details. It was usually nice being the youngest, and the only girl in the group. Now, was one of the downsides. 

“Looks like someone already has snake princess,” Jeon yelled over the screaming of the other boys. Now, they all turned and started yelling at him for his inappropriate comment. Everyone except Jimin and Yoongi. They both raised their eyebrows at you, being fully aware of the thing with you and Seonghwa after Jimin had walked into the common room once late at night and caught you making out. In fact, they were aware of several of your “after school activities”.

Jimin couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, which is why, for the third time today you were unsuprised when he said, “I thought you were done fucking Lucas?”

“Jimin!” you hissed, hoping that the other boys hadn’t heard him, but of course, they had. 

“Oh, whoops,” was all he managed to say before chaos broke out, Namjoon spinning on his heels to look at you. Taehyung literally squealed, Jungkook’s jaw dropped and Yoongi looked pissed. He hadn’t been a huge fan of Lucas in the first place. 

“Lucas? 5th year Lucas or 7th year Lucas?” Namjoon questioned, his jaw clenched. Joon had always been too protective, especially when it came to boys.

“I-uh. It wasn’t Lucas,” you cringed as your brother threw his hands in the air waiting for you to spill on who had touched you. 

“Well, then who the hell was it?” Joon asked, stalking closer to me as you looked away. He turned to Jimin, repeating his question. However, your blood ran cold as a new voice rang through the compartment. 

“Who the hell was what, Joonbug?” 

You scowled as Jungkook wolf-whistled. Yes, you had always been afraid of your brother and what he would do about the boys in my life, but you were terrified of his boyfriend finding out about your escapades. He was hotheaded and treated you like his baby. Which is why you kept your mouth shut. Tension filled the compartment before Taehyung was the one to finally break.

“Well we just found out snake princess has been foolingaroundwithtwoguys.” 

Jimin scoffed at that, “What makes you think its only two?”

“Jimin!” you cursed, throwing your shoe at him. 

“Princess you have to tell us who they all are, I need to know how much dick you’re getting” Taehyung whined. With that sentence it clicked for Jin, wasting no time as he stomped over to you, looking at your appearance before his eyes were drawn to the darkening hickeys on your neck. 

“Baby girl, you tell me right now who is touching you so I can go beat their cowardly little fucki-”

“Jin, she’s just as guilty as they are,” Yoongi dead-panned, giving you a sympathetic look. 

“So how many boys, hm?” Namjoon asked a little too harshly.

“Well including Seonghwa,” you started, quickly pointing to the hickeys, “Four, wait no, five. I think.”

“Jesus, you don't even know?” Jin asked incredulously. 

“Hey! Don’t shame me,” you frowned, before adding, “Well some of them I don’t really remember that clearly.”

“Did you count the one night stand with Ten?” Yoongi asked nonchalantly, causing you to throw your other shoe. 

“So I guess six,” you added quietly. 

“Oh my god, she didn’t count him,” Jungkook broke into laughter, earning a swift slap from Tae. 

“So how long have you been fucking Seonghwa?” Tae asked, shrugging when Jin knocked him on the back of his head and muttering a soft “language” at him. 

“Since before winter break last year,” you whispered, a blush creeping up your cheeks. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Namjoon raised his eyebrow, clearly pissed off. 

“Why would I tell my brother that I was getting the best dick of my life?”

 Silence filled the compartment before you clamped a hand over your mouth. You realized you shouldn’t have said that, especially to your brother. You have never hated your big mouth more than at this moment. Kook, Tae, and Jimin just started laughing, Namjoon was not pleased at all. 

“YAH- I didn’t raise my sweet little innocent daughter this way,” Jin whined, ears turning red. 

“Wait, didn’t I catch you in the common room before the Gryffindor Hufflepu-” Jimin started, to which you cut him off with a harsh glare.

“Jimin, literally shut up.” 

“So are you dating him?” Namjoon asked, his jaw set in a hard line that absolutely terrified you.  You hadn’t seen him wear that look in a long time. That look was scary, and boy did you want to lie so bad to avoid his anger.

“Yes,” you said at the same time Jimin and Yoongi said no, “fuck you guys, honestly. What happened to the pact that my brother wouldn’t find out about this?”

“That’s why you don’t trust snakes baby girl,” Kookie grinned, clearly pleased that he started this incredibly uncomfortable situation for you. 

“Shut up, Jungkook,” the three of you said at the same time, causing laughter to fill the compartment again, but not before you got a reassurance that you’d finish this conversation later from your brother and Jin.

--

one   next>

series masterlist

hope you liked it! and sorry if it sucks, I just got really excited to write 

[motleyfuckingcruee]

Hey Jealousy (Vince Neil x reader)

Cool ! 😂😂 ok so this is the plot I hope you'll like it 

You're Vince's girlfriend and you go with him on tour and Guns N Roses are the first part of their show. On the tour, Axl and you became closer which actually turned Vince jealous. Axl and him fought on the tour because of you and once you and Vince came home, you fight and try desperately to explain that you're in love with him and not with Axl. He gets jealous and says how much he loves you and will die if you love someone else. You kiss him and show him how much you love him

Requested by @antheasnow (i'm so sorry it took me so long to write this!)

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST! OR GO TO MY BIO TO ADD YOURSELF TO ONE!

SONG THE TITLE IS BASED OFF OF:

Hey Jealousy

*GIF IS NOT MINE*

///

You smile as you watch your boyfriend run and jump all over the stage. He’s certainly got a lot of energy tonight. You hold your breath as Vince seems to almost trip over a chord for one of the amps, but he plays it off cool. You giggle to yourself. You’ve been with Vince for about a year now. You two are still inseparable.

“Hey (Y/N)!” You hear a cheery voice yell. You turn to the backstage area to see Steven, the drummer of Guns N’ Roses, sitting on one of the couches. “Come and join the fun! He’ll be off in a bit!”

You’re hesitant to leave your place. You know that Vince will have a cow if he can’t see you from the stage. He’s very protective and freaks when you leave his sight for even a moment. Once you went to the bathroom without telling him and he was screaming and yelling at everyone. It’s like he thought you were kidnapped or something. You decide to go join Guns, mostly because you’ve seen Mötley Crüe perform the same set so many times. You needed a change of pace. You walk over to the nearest couch, sitting down with a smile on your face. It just so happened that you sat next to Axl Rose.

Vince definitely was going to have hissy fit now. You and Axl grew rather close over the few months they’ve been on tour with the Crüe. You got tired of being by yourself when Vince would run off to party with Tommy and Nikki, so you made friends with Guns. They were rather quiet with it being their first tour and all. You don’t think they know how to act. Instead of going off to the nearest strip club or party, they stayed at the hotel in their little group. You and Axl just immediately clicked. Vince wasn’t happy about that. One day, Axl just said ‘Hi’ to you and Vince about beat him to a pulp!

You love Vince with all your heart, but his jealousy is getting out of hand.

“Hey, darlin’,” Axl greets you happily.

You smile at him. “Hey, Ax.” You look around to see what the other boys are doing. Your smile fades as a look of disgust covers your face. Steven, Duff, Slash, and Izzy are all snorting blow without any thought. Lots of it too. “Ugh,” You groan. You’d seen enough of this with the Crüe and it hurt to see your new friends to be doing it as well. Your eyes land back on Axl who’s smirking at you.

“You don’t like drugs, do you?” Axl asks, taking a drag from his cigarette.

You shake your head, “Not at all. I hate it. It hurts me to see you guys kill yourselves on purpose.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it,” Axl says thoughtfully. “It must be the ‘rockstar’ way.”

You shrug, frowning. “I guess, but I hate it. Once I tried to get Vince to get clean and he hated me for a good month.”

“How could he hate someone as beautiful as you?”

You blush, looking down at your lap. It’s no secret that Axl is very attractive. What with his sexy singing voice, gorgeous red hair, and pretty green eyes, how could a girl ever refuse him? The only downside to him is his temper.

You’d date him in another world. But in this one, Vince held your heart.

In a lot of ways, him and Vince are a lot alike. They both have tempers, really pretty hair and eyes, and are both the lead singers of their bands.

But you love Vince. You have since you met him three years ago.

“I think he was just really mad,” You respond, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “He got over it and was wanting to be around me again.”

“You know,” Axl says, leaning in really close. “If you were with me you wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

You smile kindly at him. “I love Vince. Nothing will change that. Axl, you’re a great guy and everything but-.”

Within a second, Axl is no longer beside me on the couch. I look behind me to see Vince beating the shit out of him.

“Oh God!” You yell, getting up. “Vinny, please stop! I’m begging you, stop!”

I try to go and pull Vince off of Axl, but a pair of strong arms hold me back. I look to see Nikki who has a smile on his face. No doubt he’s enjoying the fight. It’s been a while since there’s been drama on tour. And tonight’s the last night of the entire tour.

“Nikki, please let me go!” You scream over the other yelling going on. “Goddammit, let me go!”

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Nikki says into my ear. “But, Vince told me to never let you get in the middle of one of his fights.”

You watch in horror as Axl finally gains the upper ground. Axl punches Vince multiple times and you pray to whoever is above that you don’t hear a crunch. Vince would be even more pissed if Axl broke his nose. Vince manages to get back on top, punching Axl in the jaw multiple times. Finally Tommy and Mick are able to get a good hold on Vince. They pull him off of a beaten down Axl Rose. Vince doesn’t seem to have many injuries. Only a busted lip and black eye.

“Alright,” Doc says, not looking surprised at what just took place. “I think it’s time for all of us to head home.”

Everyone nods in agreement. Thank God you’re already in Los Angeles. A plane ride home with a pissed Vince would be agonizing. A drive home is torture enough.

You collect Vince and go outside to hail a taxi. The way home was agonizingly silent. The cab driver kept trying to make conversation, but Vince would snap at him. He seemed like a decent enough guy. We arrive home, neither you speaking a word as Vince unlocked the house to let you both inside.

You go up and take a shower, deciding that Vince just wanted some time alone. You can’t believe that Vince lost his shit like he did. Well, actually, never mind that thought. You can completely believe that he lost his shit. You hope that Axl was okay. Vince got multiple good hits on him.

Once you finish your shower and got dressed, you head down to the living room. You find Vince sitting on the couch with only the lamp on. Normally, he’d already have the television on. You sit down next to him, not sure what to say.

“Why the fuck would you even talk to him!” Vince snaps, his gaze on you.

You hate how much anger is in his eyes. You really didn’t mean any harm. You just wanted friends. “Because he’s my friend,” You answer quietly.

“He only wants to get into your fucking pants! God, you can be so fucking stupid sometimes. I bet you’ve already had sex with him, haven’t you!” Vince yells.

You flinch. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Well you two are just so fucking close! I wouldn’t be surprised!”

You sigh. “I just wanted people to hang out with while you were out doing God knows what with Nikki and Tommy.”

“Then you should’ve fucking went to Mick!”

“He was with Emi.”

“So? You could’ve kicked that bitch out! No one gives a shit about her!”

You frown. “If that’s how you talk about women, I’d hate to hear what you say about me.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You glare at him. “You obviously hate me at this point, Vince! Ever since I tried to help you get clean, you’ve hated me! I’ve done everything I fucking could to make you happy and yet you still pull this shit with me! Why don’t you just ask me to fucking leave already? That’s obviously what you want!”

Vince is speechless, his eyes wide. After a few moments, he recovers. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then why do you treat me like you do? You act like an overprotective boyfriend in front of everyone, but as soon as we’re alone you blame it all on me,” You say. You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Oh, babygirl,” Vince says, scooting over to where you are. He envelopes you in a hug. You cry into his chest, feeling helpless. “I don’t want you to leave. I’d be lost without you. I’ve just been on edge lately. I promise I’ll be better, okay?” He pulls back to look into your eyes. He wipes some tears off of your cheeks. He smiles gently. “I love you.”

You smile, the tears still falling. “I love you too,” You choke out.

“You better,” He winks. That’s the Vince you know and love. “Now, come on. I’m ready to sleep for three days.”

And with that he carried you to the bedroom.

///

TAGLIST:

All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel @charlyallise @lo-bells @lauravic @livingdeadharley @kawennote09 @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @hllywdwhre @abbysdogcollar @nikkisixxwiththebass @waywardprincess666 @tommyleeownsme  

@rock-n-roll-soul-frankie @unholy-brat @eak1996 @madsthegroupie @sinningsixx @Kissyourrosegoodbyemotley

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All Mötley: @rhyetaylor62 @kaitieskidmore1 @thecrue @reigns420 @rumoured-whispers

[writethehousedown]

And The Livin's Easy, Chapter Three (Multi) - Zyan

a/n: hello! welcome to chapter four of zyan tries her best to juggle all of the characters. i think we’re pretty much done as far as introductions go? so here’s where things start to get interesting. hope you enjoy! my sideblog is @chachkisalpaca - and frey is an angel for beta-ing.

“Is that a hickey?” Jan asks during their improvised breakfast.

It’s still early, so there aren’t many people at the beach just yet. The Sun is up and shining bright, and Gigi is so sleep deprived she forgot about the purple spot in the crook of her neck.

Gigi shakes off the tiredness and blinks repeatedly, her cheeks getting as red as a tomato when she notices all of her friends are staring at her. She decides that there’s no point in lying and sets down her plastic cup with steaming hot coffee Jackie somehow managed to prepare.

“I had sex with someone last night,” she simply says with a shrug. The screeches from her friends hurt her ears, but she had seen them coming.

“What? When did your hoe ass get a hook up?” Brita exclaims, “Did you download fucking Tinder again, sneaked out when we were all asleep, and came back?” Gigi laughs at Brita’s incredulous tone, though she’s nervous and her cheeks are still red.

“Ew, no, you know I don’t do dating apps. That’s how my ex happened,” Gigi says, matter-of-factly, “You see, Nicky was hoarding the tent with her inflatable mattress—”

“Hey! I did ask you if you wanted to sleep with me!” Nicky complains, folding her arms, though a laugh fights to escape her mouth.

“Yeah, and I told you my name’s not Jackie,” Gigi deadpans, and both Nicky and Jackie shut their mouths. She smiles cheekily and goes on. “Anyway, as I was saying; I left the tent, walked along the beach, found this girl all alone, talked a bit, and I guess it just happened.”

She purposely leaves out that the girl was no one other than Crystal, and they entered the sea, floating near the shore until, much like Gigi predicted it, she fell off the board and Crystal had to drag her back to the shore. The fabric of her tank top stuck to her skin, making her shiver like crazy, and Crystal tried to help her warm up, she really did — but one thing led to another, and before Gigi knew it, Crystal was sucking on her neck as her hands pinned her down.

The girls holler, not believing what they’re hearing. All of them say some sort of variation of there’s no way your game is that good, and Gigi just lets them talk as she sips on her coffee.

Her phone rings in her bag so she aims for it, juggling to unlock it. She bites back a smile when she sees the notification from Instagram.

@crystalandmeth has started following you.

Gigi wants to smack Crystal for having such a handle. No wonder she couldn’t find her when she searched her up after that night at the bar.

*

Scarlet vaguely scans the pool; it’s just opened and it’s still fairly early, but there are girls sunbathing, taking pictures, and some children playing by the edge of the tiny pool, splashing each other. She smiles at that. Sometimes she even likes the kids - when they’re not pushing each other into the big pool and Scarlet has to prevent a child from drowning, that is.

The hotel is medium sized, but since it’s the summer, there’s not a room that’s not booked. She knows. Her mothers have owned it for the last twenty years. She grew up running around the halls and with the noise of the tourists settling in their rooms, dragging their suitcases with big smiles plastered across their faces.

Though her mothers have insisted that she didn’t have to work at the hotel during the summer if she didn’t want to, Scarlet had decided to fill the position of lifeguard for the morning shift until they find someone else. It’s not as if she minds, anyway; she has nothing better to do, since all of her friends traveled outside the country for their vacations, leaving her stuck in the island. That’s the downside of being friends with stuck up rich kids, she supposes.

She tells a few kids to stop running, brings back a volleyball that ended up landing on the deep side of the pool, and that’s about it, for the most part. The morning shift is very laid back; the pool usually gets crowded during the afternoon, but that’s Adore and Courtney’s problem.

Lunch time rolls around before she notices it, and she closes the pool with a relieved sigh, immediately going to the cafeteria.

Scarlet picks a frozen burrito and asks one of the ladies working at the cafeteria if they can pretty please heat it up with the nice microwave they have in the kitchen. Belinda rolls her eyes with a playful smile and squeezes Scarlet’s cheek before complying with her wishes.

“Damn, I didn’t know we could ask to use the good microwave,” a voice pipes up from her side. Scarlet giggles and turns around to look at whoever said that.

She’s met with the sight of a gorgeous woman with pink wavy hair. Scarlet licks her lips before answering.

“Oh, no, that’s uh, that’s staff privilege.” She shrugs, and the woman clicks her tongue, visibly disappointed. Scarlet looks at her plate and cocks an amused brow when she sees the bland vegetarian sandwich. “I don’t think you’ll need the microwave now, though,” she points out, nudging at her plate, and the woman stifles a laugh.

“Ah, that, yeah. This is all my stomach can handle right now — one of my friends got a little too carried away doing the drinks last night,” she comments, shifting her weight from one foot to another. Scarlet chuckles, she knows the feeling.

“Hangover food? Been there. I’m a little bolder though, I prefer French fries with a lot of ketchup,” she replies, just when Belinda hands her back her burrito. Scarlet blows a kiss her way and turns her attention back to the woman, slightly biting her lip before speaking. “D’you wanna sit together? I mean, unless you’re waiting for your friends.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m not waiting for them, I’d be stuck here for hours if I was,” she dismisses it with a wave of her hand and laughs. Scarlet thinks she has a pretty laugh. “I’m Yvie.”

“I’m Scarlet,” she introduces herself with a shiny smile.

*

Crystal sighs as she juggles her phone, struggling to put it on speaker as she currently is trying to make a decent lunch — never mind the fact it’s four p.m. and she skipped breakfast to sleep in.

She finally manages to put it on speaker and Vanessa’s voice fills the room, her tone far too annoyed and one Crystal’s grown to know all too well.

“Can you believe it, Crys? She’s but a child, and the bitch is almost thirty! I’m disgusted,” Vanessa rants, and Crystal almost snaps her optic nerve with the way she rolls her eyes.

“Vanj, hold the fuck up. Plastique is twenty two, in case you didn’t know, and Brooke is still twenty seven; the gap isn’t that big,” Crystal says. “’Sides, you two broke up last year, it’s obvious that she has moved on. So why don’t you focus on your hot bodybuilder girlfriend before I steal her off you.” She smiles cheekily when Vanessa gasps offended on the other side of the line.

“Hey! Plastic, Plastique, or whatever her name is, looks like a fucking teenager. How was I supposed to know?” She defends herself; Crystal can almost see her folding her arms with a childish pout. “Kameron is doing some gigs in California, photographing for an ice skating tour or some shit. She’s busy, but I did invite her for the competition.”

“Ajá.” Crystal is more focused in her lunch, making sure to cut the pepper as thin as possible. She knows it would’ve been easier to just order takeout, buy a soda from the drugstore around the corner, and settle in the couch and watch some garbage TV, but sometimes she misses the taste of a home cooked meal.

Vanessa goes on, talking her ear off about Kameron and how happy she is with her. She rolls her eyes; for someone in a happy relationship she sure talks a lot about her ex.

“…But that’s enough ‘bout me. What happened with you last night? Jaida came back way before you, bitch, and you reeked of sex. Like, you could barely walk straight, and you weren’t that shit faced. Spill, Glass,” Vanessa changes the topic, and Crystal nearly cuts her finger with the knife.

Her cheeks heat up when she remembers what happened at the beach with Gigi. Crystal doesn’t know if telling her to take off her soaked clothes on a whim had been a good or a bad idea, but she doesn’t regret anything — even if she still has sand in her scalp.

She clears her throat before speaking, glad that Vanessa can’t see her awfully red cheeks.

“Well, uh, remember Smoothie Girl?” she begins, throwing the pepper in the cooking pot. Vanessa musters an affirmative response. Crystal breathes in deeply. “So, like, Jaida and I finish our thing, and she tells me we should stop sleeping around, and I got excited, thinking she wanted to go on a date or something like that. But no, she actually meant that in a literal way, and naturally, I had already embarrassed myself,” Crystal rants with a groan. Vanessa just listens, “So, she left and I just. Stared at the water I guess. Then Smoothie Girl appeared out of nowhere, shit happened, one thing led to another, and suddenly I was pinning her to the ground.”

There’s silence on Vanessa’s end for what seems like an eternity, and Crystal proceeds to cut the chicken in tiny cubes, trying to not let her nerves get the best of her. She expected Vanessa to screech so loud she’d end up deaf.

“So, what you’re tryin’ to tell me is that your cheesy ass got ditched, and instead of moping around for a week, you went and slept with someone else right after?” She inquires slowly, as if she’s talking to an infant. Crystal rolls her eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Bullshit, Glass,” Vanessa declares calmly, “There’s no way in hell. You’re bullshitting me. You’ve been chasing Jaida Eleanor Hall’s ass for two years now—”

“Hey! That’s not true. It’s been a year and a half,” Crystal defends herself.

“—a year and a half, and you didn’t feel the least bit heartbroken? Really?”

Crystal shrugs, but soon realizes that’s stupid; Vanessa can’t see her.

“Vanj, you act as if I was in love with Jaida, to begin with,” she points out, perching herself against the countertop for a moment. “The girl was hot, I won’t deny it, and the sex was great — but, like, I told you I didn’t think we’d ever be something serious. I don’t hold any grudges against her.” And it’s true. Crystal’s disappointment at the moment had been magnified by the fact she made a fool of herself by misunderstanding what Jaida meant, and the alcohol usually made her a more sensitive person, if that was even possible.

Vanessa stays silent for a moment yet again, until she hears a loud sigh and some rumbling. Crystal frowns as she throws the chicken to the cooking pot, turning up the flames.

“Alright, I believe you, Glass. Now tell me, you and Smoothie Girl…?” She leaves the sentence hanging, prompting Crystal to complete it.

She laughs shortly, before checking her phone and seeing a notification from Instagram. She grins cheekily, wondering if Gigi had waited so long to follow her on purpose.

*

Jaida takes a spoonful of ice cream, trying not to choke with laughter at Monique’s re-telling of the previous night. She’d been gone for a short while, though apparently that didn’t prevent shit from going down.

“You should’ve seen Vanessa’s face when Brooke left with Plastique, oh my God, it was priceless,” Monique tells her, as enthusiastic as ever. Her ice cream melts more and more with every second that passes, but she can’t bring herself to care. Except when Monét tries to steal some of it, apparently. “Girl, had I known the bitch was that bold, I wouldn’t have invited her. I’d like her to still be alive by the end of the week.”

“Hey now, it’s not her fault Vanessa isn’t over Brooke,” Monét cuts in, “Plastique hardly knew any of y’all. She may not even know Brooke is Vanessa’s ex.”

Jaida hums in agreement, her mouth still full of ice cream. The three of them are staying at the same hotel, and they’re lucky enough there’s a good ice cream shop around the corner, so they decided to take the day off and just hang out. Not that the hangover allowed them to do anything else in the first place.

“Also, Vanessa’s a grown woman; I don’t think she goes around pitching fights because her ex’s over her, she’s better than that,” Jaida adds, wiping the rests of ice cream off her face.

Monét and Monique agree with her, and the conversation drifts to various topics, though Jaida notices they’re making an effort not to bring Crystal up. She appreciates it, because right now that’s a can of worms she rather not open.

It’s not that she regrets being with her, it’s more like she hates herself for dragging their thing for so long, and by the way Crystal bit her tongue and nodded wordlessly when she told her she rather stop this, she can tell she hurt her — at least to some degree, because the rest of the night she’d acted as if nothing happened and everything was cool. Jaida doesn’t know if it was faked or not.

Monét and Monique start to argue about something, probably about how they’re not going to be easy on each other just because they’re girlfriends now; they go way too fast for her to catch up, especially since she’s still eating her frost mint ice cream and can’t be bothered about their relationship right now — she hears about it on the daily, anyway.

Jaida brings the spoon to her lips when she looks past Monique’s shoulder, looking at the entrance of shop, and she freezes for a moment. She blinks repeatedly, until she knows for real this is not her eyes deceiving her; the same woman as last night is seating near the entrance with someone else, chatting and laughing and looking even prettier in the daylight.

She squints, trying to remember her name; Jen, was it? She’s pretty sure she heard her friend say it, but she can’t remember that well.  

Jaida pulls her gaze away when she realizes she’s staring, and tries to focus on whatever Monét and Monique are talking about. But soon she feels someone looking at her, and she steals a glance at the girl out of the corner of her eye; she finds that she’s staring back at her, but she quickly withdraws her gaze.

Jaida smiles against the spoon. She doesn’t question how is it possible she ran into her again, especially considering the island is big and the chances of seeing her again were slim. Perhaps it’s a coincidence.

“I’m telling you, ‘Nét, this bitch had an edgy phase!” Monique exclaims, tugging at Jaida’s arm, causing her to accidentally throw a good chunk of ice cream on her blouse. Monique stays still for a moment as Jaida fumbles with the tissue paper. “I’m sorry, girl,” she says, with her tone so high pitched and full of regret, Jaida finds it hard to get mad at her.

She sighs dramatically, leaving the tissues aside and standing up. “Don’t worry, sis, it’s no big deal. I can wash this, anyway.” She shrugs. “Though I’m expecting you to buy me a pina colada next time we hit the bar,” she teasingly says before leaving to the bathroom.

She can hear Monét’s laugh and the smack Monique gives her on the arm, pitching the blame for Jaida’s ruined blouse on her. Sometimes Jaida swears neither one of them knows the volume of their own voices.

She wets a tissue and gets the ice cream off her skin before it gets sticky. The bathroom is tinier than she expected, but at least there’s no one else.

Or so she thought.

“Sweet baby Jesus, Nicole, how did you manage to burn the eggs?” a voice speaks from one of the stalls, and Jaida jumps a little.

A woman comes out from one the three stalls, holding her phone in the crook of her neck as she washes her hands. Jaida stiffs a little when she notices it’s the girl from the beach. Jen (or Jan), apparently, remembers her too, because she stops for a moment when she sees her, biting her lower lip before speaking again.

“Nicks, just, don’t touch anything else from the kitchen. Jackie and I will come back in a moment — please don’t listen neither Gigi nor Brita, they’re as bad cooks as you, 'kay?” She hangs up and sighs loudly, drying her hands before putting the phone back in the pocket of her shorts.

“That’s quite an interesting daycare you got there,” Jaida comments lightheartedly, throwing the tissues to the trash. The woman chuckles, turning to see her.

“Keeping toddlers in their twenties alive is my passion,” she deadpans, playing with the hem of her shirt. Jaida laughs shortly. “I’ve heard they’re easier to take care of once they’re thirty,” she comments with a cheeky smile, making Jaida laugh again.

“I wouldn’t have my hopes up if I were you,” Jaida replies, checking herself in the mirror and making sure she’s wiped off all the ice cream

She sucks in a quick breath, looking back at the woman, who’s perched against the sink, texting someone.

“Hey,” she says, catching her attention. “This probably sounds crazy, but is there any chance you were at O'Ahu beach last night, looking for a ball, maybe?” Jaida wonders, and almost right away she sees Jen (or Jan) cheeks lit up.

“Oh, Jesus, I was hoping you wouldn’t remember me. That was so embarrassing. I’m sorry.” She covers her face with her hands and Jaida laughs softly, coming some steps closer.

“Girl, it’s fine, for real,” she assures her, and Jen (or Jan) slowly uncovers her face. The rosy tone in her cheeks makes her look cute. She bites her lower lip before continuing. “I did mean it when I said I can’t be mad at a pretty girl.”

Jen (or Jan) smiles sheepishly and laugh, tucking a strand of lose hair behind her ear.

“Well, I meant it too when I said you’re not so bad yourself. I didn’t mean to finger gun you, though.”

Jaida laughs, and for a moment she forgets she has to go back to Monét and Monique. They strike up a conversation, and Jaida learns that her name is Jan and not Jen, and that she blushes a deep shade of red whenever she compliments her in any way. Jaida thinks she’s the cutest girl she’s ever met.

[aleteia-ff]

A Decade To Find You - Part 5

Also Read On: AO3 | FF.net

Thank you all for sticking with this story! Here’s the final installment <3

December 31st, 2019 | Part 2

The main conclusion Astrid had drawn in 2019 was that Hiccup still lived underneath a social media-less rock. So while she now had two things to apologise for, she couldn’t get in contact with him, no matter how hard she tried.

She wanted to say sorry for still not having called him. And for making him think she had moved on. Because while she had attempted to, while she had thought that simply having fun with one of her colleagues wouldn’t hurt, it wasn’t true. The moment she had seen Hiccup, she had wanted to run to him and apologise. But he’d cycled away, and by the time she’d convinced Eret to go after him, they couldn’t find him anymore. Eret had been awfully sweet about it, had told her that she had made it clear enough that they weren’t serious. And that he’d gladly help her work out some of her frustration at the gym or the shooting range instead.

Hiccup was the reason she’d taken Eret with her that night in the first place, after all. Because the closer they had gotten to the New Year’s Eve of 2018, the more she had started to dread the thought of seeing Hiccup with his girlfriend again. After all, she hadn’t been able to stalk his Facebook and see if they had broken up in the meantime. Bringing someone else with her was the only insurance she could give herself against being humiliated again. That, or staying home altogether. And she wasn’t going to let herself be that easily defeated.

It had been uncannily desperate, given that ever since she’d lost Hiccup’s number, she hadn’t concerned herself with dating at all. Sure, the police academy kept her busy, although she still had time for it if she wanted to. But she found she simply lacked the interest. She didn’t need it. She’d been feeling good about herself, and now that she had gotten a better idea of the downsides to becoming a police officer, she still didn’t have any regrets. Because while she’d fallen out of love with medicine for exactly those mundane, “this is what you will actually be doing on a daily basis” reasons, she found herself loving this job in spite of those things.

She finally felt like she’d found her place. To the extent a 26-year old could, she supposed. She was, at the very least, no longer worried about whatever came next.

Which is why it was even stranger that she still couldn’t get Hiccup out of her head. And that this year, she had headed to the centre of town with more confidence and purpose than she ever had before.

She was going to find him tonight. And no matter the circumstances, regardless of what would be thrown in her way, she would finally apologise to him.

After all, as practical as she was, she also couldn’t ignore the way in which nearly every blog or Instagram page shoved this year being the last of the decade right in her face. And while she wasn’t superstitious, and she believed in hard work rather than fate, she also couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that if she didn’t go out tonight, on the last day that belonged to the ten years in which she’d experienced so much, growing from a teenager to someone that she would sort-of call an adult… That after this decade, which had started with Hiccup, she wouldn’t get the chance to see him again.

And even if that was her just reading too many self-indulgent Soulmate AU fanfics of The Witcher, she didn’t really care anymore. Because that was also the agreement she’d made with herself. She was allowed to try for one more day, to finish off the decade and go full circle. And if it didn’t result in anything, then that was fine. She would simply let it go, Frozen-style.

But she could still hope, right?

So she’d put on her favourite leggings and skirt, topped off by a warm sweater that was both comfortable and accentuated her figure, the front parts of her hair pulled back into a loose bun while the rest hung loose down her back. No pretence. Just her, the way she wanted to be seen.

A few hours before midnight, she parked her bicycle in the street Hiccup had spotted her in the year before. She ventured into town, intending to start in the centre squares and end up here at the end of the night.

Or perhaps not. She hoped not.

While she’d changed a lot over the past ten years, Berk still felt remarkably similar. The stalls of the winter market hadn’t stopped selling the kind of items no one really used, although there were remarkably more smart phone cases. While some of the bars had changed, their spirit, many of them proud rip-offs of “Viking culture” and serving pints to match those ideas, had remained.

If someone had asked for her opinion on that rigidness when she was 16, she would have called it boring. Would have reassured anyone that she would leave Berk as soon as she could, and that she would never look back. And now she was here, noting to herself that his would likely be one of her last New Year’s Eves as a civilian instead of on duty. She was looking forward to it, to be done with training and start actually serving. But it was also yet another reason for her to track Hiccup down this year.

Now if only he would show himself, that would make her life a lot easier.

She stopped by every place she had seen him at since the moment they’d met. The hot chocolate stand by the river, where people were already trying to secure the best spot to watch the fireworks show. The ice skating rink in the centre, lacking a cute lanky guy stumbling over his fake foot. The street on which Hiccup had charmingly hurled his guts into the snow. The club where she had kissed a random guy for him to see, now embarrassingly empty because it was only just past 10 PM. The corner cafe he’d been sitting at with his friends, perfectly showcasing how handsome he’d become. The bar she’d seen him sitting in behind the window, making her want to hug him because he’d looked so beaten down by the world. Gruffnut’s Grunge Grotto, surprisingly still open, where she had walked away from him after he’d rejected her the year before. The site of their fateful meeting in 2016, when the stars had finally aligned, albeit only temporarily.

Until she finally reached her bike at 11 PM, coming up empty-handed.

But she refused to let that be the end of it. It was very likely that if he was indeed here, and she wanted to believe he was, that she had simply missed him. Berk was still a sizable town, after all. She had to scan the streets better, practice her surveillance and stake-out techniques, go into more bars because it was cold and most people were inside.

She had to try harder.

Because with one hour left on the clock, one hour until everyone else would celebrate the start of the new decade, she didn’t care anymore about what other people thought, or how desperate and downright crazy she’d become. After all, it simply felt like the right thing to do. To find Hiccup. And finally, truly, scratch that itch that had been bugging her for so many years.

And she couldn’t shake the simmering panic caused by the notion that this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. That she should have seen him already, because time was running out. That if she didn’t find him now, before midnight, that the spell would be broken.

So she quickened her pace as she made another round, checking her phone more often than she should.

23:07.

23:16 and a message from Heather, asking her if she’d gotten lucky yet.

23:18.

23:21, Heather telling her what bar she and Dagur were at, in case she needed a break.

23:27.

Then she glanced back up from her phone, and behind the glass window of an Irish pub, she finally caught a glimpse of a familiar face.

It wasn’t Hiccup. But she supposed it qualified as the next best thing.

She rushed inside, pushing herself through the crowd until she reached him, the dark-haired over-dramatic diva who had punched Dagur three years ago, adrenaline and hope coursing through her veins.

She tapped his shoulder a little more urgently than strictly polite, and she wasn’t surprised when he turned around, clearly agitated, only for his eyes to open up in surprise when he took her in.

“You!” he stammered. “I know you!”

“Yes, I’m -”

“No, don’t tell me,” he stopped her, putting up his hand. “I got this.”

“I never introduced myself to you, so it’s -”

“Oh, I’m aware.” Hiccup’s cousin rolled his eyes. “You’re the bitch who never called Hiccup.”

She clenched her jaw, exasperated. “Excuse me?”

“Look, honey -”

“It’s Astrid, actually.”

“Okay fine, “Astrid”,” he sighed, gesturing with his fingers to put her name between quotation marks. “We can keep pretending I don’t know what you did, but I do. You told him you would call, and you didn’t. So obviously you think my cousin’s not good enough for you, which means I -” He gestured to himself despite the fact that he was clearly smaller than her, and that she’d proven she could kick his ass before. “- have nothing more to say to you.”

“My phone broke,” she hissed between her teeth, counting to ten in her head and repeating all anger management techniques they’d taught her at the academy.

“Oh,” Hiccup’s cousin stammered.

“And that’s your fault,” she stressed, pointing at him. “If you hadn’t started a fight with Dagur, I wouldn’t have fallen, I wouldn’t have lost Hiccup’s number, and I actually could’ve called him. And since he doesn’t know what the word ‘social media’ means, I couldn’t exactly contact him in any other way.”

“He has LinkedIn,” Hiccup’s cousin shrugged.

“Where he probably doesn’t use the name ‘Hiccup’. And that’s the only name he gave me,” she clarified.

“So now you’re here talking to me because…?”

“I’d like to explain to him what happened, because I never got the chance to. Is he here too?”

“No.” Hiccup’s cousin shook his head. “He stayed home.”

Her heart dropped.

He’d stayed home.

He’d given up.

But she couldn’t.

“Do you think he’d want to come out after all…?” she tried. “If you text him?”

“I doubt it.”

No, no, no.

“And if I call him? Finally?”

Hiccup’s cousin pulled up his eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t have his number.”

“You could give it to me,” she proposed. “Along with your own name, as a back-up. Because you do look like the type with an Insta profile.”

“Girl, you have no idea how many followers I have. Look for Snotlout Jorgenson -” She cocked her head at him, and he rolled his eyes in response. “No, that’s not a stage name or an alias, it’s my actual godsdamned name. You see, my family, it -” Snotlout paused, put up both of his hands and took a deep breath, shaking his head at no one in particular. “No, this is not about me. It’s already the Snotman-show every other night of the year.”

“So you will give it to me?” she asked, only realising her phrasing-failure when Snotlout gave her an exaggerated wink.

“Anytime.”

“Ew.”

Snotlout put his hand on his chest, gasping. “So rude. I don’t even know if I should help you anymore.”

“Oh, come on,” she groaned, getting her phone out of her shoulder bag and checking the time.

23:35.

Time’s running out, Cinderella.

“What’s in it for me?” Snotlout dared to ask.

“You’re helping out your cousin?”

“Am I, though?” Snotlout clacked his tongue. “Only thing I know about you is that you stood him up last time. How do I know you won’t do the same again?”

“Because I’m promising you I won’t,” she stressed, hating how begging she sounded. “And you have my name, you can track me down if I don’t keep my word.”

“Not enough.”

“Then what else could you possibly want from me!?”

“I…” Snotlout continued, smirking as if things were finally coming together. “… will give you Hiccup’s number, if you…” He got his phone out of his back pocket at the lowest speed humanly possible. “… send me the contact details of the cute redhead you were with three years ago.”

“Cute redhead?” She frowned, mentally going over her female friends. She hadn’t been with any of them three years ago, not yet at least. It had just been Hiccup, and… “Wait, Dagur?”

“That’s his name?”

“Dagur, the one you punched in the face because he came up to you and called you, I quote, ‘a snack’? That Dagur?”

Snotlout’s eyes lit up. “Yes, that’s the one!”

“Are you sure? The guy who broke your nose?”

Snotlout put his phone to his chest, dreamingly staring out of the window. “I can’t help but think of him every time I sneeze.”

“Then why did you punch him in the first place?” she groaned through gritted teeth, stuck between wanting to leave as soon as possible and getting to the bottom of this because it was just so thoroughly, completely weird.

“I just wasn’t… in that place, at the time,” Snotlout murmured, barely audible above the pub’s crowd. He looked down at his feet, as if he were actually embarrassed. “One hundred percent convinced I was straight, lashing out against anyone who dared to suggest anything else because I happened to be into theatre and musicals, and my Chris Hemsworth posters were hanging next to my favourite characters from Glee.” He rolled his eyes. “My friend Ruffnut sent me a collage of articles on toxic masculinity as a joke birthday present that year. Turns out they were actually quite useful.”

“Wow.”

“I know, self-insight is truly indescribable,” Snotlout nodded to himself.

“Okay…” She took a deep breath. “I can’t give you Dagur’s number without his consent, -” Snotlout was visibly about to protest, but she put up her finger. “But I can tell you where he is right now, and you can make it up with him and ask him yourself. Deal?”

Snotlout mulled for a bit, then swiped around on his phone and showed her the screen. “Fine.”

Contact details, belonging to ‘Cousincup’. Accompanied by a series of vaguely familiar numbers.

She quickly copied it, double checking whether she had done it right at least three times before telling an increasingly impatient Snotlout what cafe Dagur was at. They left the pub together and she thanked him, dialling Hiccup’s number as soon as Snotlout walked away, her heart beating in her throat.

It rang once…

Twice…

Another time…

Until she finally heard a light beep, and rustling on the other side. “Hello?”

It was him. The slightly nasal yet adorable voice was unmistakably, wonderfully his.

“Hiccup!”

“Yes… Who’s this?”

“It’s Astrid.”

“Oh…” Hiccup stammered. “Oh.”

“We talked three years ago, at the market, and you gave me your number,” she rattled, suddenly nervous. “I fell on my phone when trying to break up the fight, and it broke, so I lost it… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Hiccup mumbled, sounding awfully distant. “But then how did you -”

“I ran into your cousin just now,” she explained. “Snotlout. He gave it to me.”

“I see.”

“He’s quite the spectacle,” she joked, hoping to get a smile, anything.

“Yeah, I suppose my condolences are in order,” Hiccup chuckled, finally.

“They’re very much appreciated,” she smiled.

A silence followed, and she cleared her throat. “Look, Hiccup, I’m really sorry about what happened three years ago… I tried to track you down on social media, but I couldn’t, so I just… I just wanted to ask if you wanted to meet up tonight after all.”

It took a moment for Hiccup to respond. “I can’t.”

She hardly registered his next words, too overwhelmed by her heart being thrown off a cliff and dropping straight into a canyon at least as deep as the Mariana Trench. “I can’t leave my dog alone tonight.”

“Oh…” was all she could give him, because this was not how this was supposed to go. With only twenty minutes left in the decade, her normally quick mind shut down.

Say something, Astrid, anything. Ask him to go get coffee tomorrow, or the day after, or just sometime.

“But you could come over here if you’d like to?”

She was dumbstruck for a moment, wondering if that question had just been a fragment of her imagination. But as soon as she registered it, she didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes!”

“Really?” Hiccup sounded more surprised than she was. “How much time do I have to tidy up?”

“That depends on what your address is.”

“Right. Addresses. Very useful for people who want to… go to places.”

She could hear the voice of Chandler from Friends in her head. Could he be any cuter?

“Chief’s Drive. Number three,” Hiccup completed.

She put him on speaker phone and quickly pulled up Google Maps. She didn’t know the street itself, but recognised the area. Exactly on the other side of town from where she lived. No wonder they’d never run into each other.

“Maps tells me it should be like 10 minutes by bicycle.” She checked the time. 23:42. Her heart jumped. “So I’ll be there before midnight.”

“Be careful, though. They’re pretty sloppy when it comes to salting the roads over here.”

She started walking, her bike only a block or two away. “I’m Berkian, I think I can handle it.”

“Of course you can,” Hiccup laughed.

“So I’ll see you there,” she smiled, not quite believing this was actually happening.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

With that, she hung up, and started sprinting. Because she’d been offered a second chance, and she was holding on as tightly as she could.

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

“Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh. Gods.”

Hiccup had not been joking entirely when he’d asked Astrid how long he had until she arrived. While he was normally quite happy with the way he maintained the house, the thought of Astrid Hofferson coming over suddenly made the whole place seem like an exploded mess and entirely dog.

Toothless watched him with big, questioning eyes as Hiccup rushed around, stuffing doggy toys and blankets in random cupboards, closets, or simply underneath the couch, but didn’t seem to intend to help Hiccup out in the slightest. Pretending he wasn’t the one who had made the mess in the first place. Instead, Toothless simply laid down on the couch - where he knew he wasn’t allowed without Hiccup explicitly saying yes - giving Hiccup a look that clearly said ‘what are you going to do about it, you desperate mess?’.

Hiccup himself was wondering exactly the same thing. He didn’t know why he’d even popped the question.

You could come over here if you’d like to?

Of course he was lying to himself, because he actually did know. He knew that despite him repeating to himself time and time again that he didn’t need Astrid in his life, that he was over her, that it was all just a coincidence and that they weren’t meant to be, that he had been defeated the moment he’d heard her voice on the other end of the phone. He’d tried to play it cool, to make it seem like he didn’t care, so he wouldn’t get caught up in this again. But it’d only taken a few minutes before he’d completely crumbled.

Toothless was right to judge him for it. But it was 2019. The end of the decade in which every year had started or ended with Astrid. And with only a few minutes left on the clock, he allowed himself to be a little superstitious.

So when at 23:55, he found his living room in an acceptable state, he simply sat down on the couch and waited, ruffling Toothless’ fur, his good foot tapping on the floor while the minutes crept by.

She’d said she’d be here before midnight. She’d also said she’d call him, three years ago. But he believed her excuse, tried not to beat himself up over not contacting her himself. He couldn’t change that anymore. But the least he could do now was believe the new promise she’d made him.

After what seemed like an eternity, Toothless started to whimper as fireworks went off outside, marking the start of the new year.

And Astrid wasn’t there.

Hiccup scoffed and sunk deeper into his seat. Of course she hadn’t come. She’d just been playing with him again.

Gods, he was a fool. He was so easy. One would think that after such a long time, after an entire decade, he’d learnt something. She’d been out of his league when they’d met ten years ago, and that hadn’t changed. Although he knew now that he did have value, unlike his insecure teenage self, he still shouldn’t have deluded himself into thinking Astrid truly liked him.

Some girls were simply heartbreakers, after all. And not worth his time.

“At least I have you, right bud?”

Toothless responded with an affirmative bark, and Hiccup supposed that for once, it wasn’t too bad that he’d have to vacuum the couch tomorrow to get rid of all the long black Labrador hairs. They could use a hug right now.

But nevertheless, they both sat up when barely five minutes, right after another salvo of fireworks, the doorbell rang.

And despite all he’d been telling himself, his heart nearly burst with excitement.

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

Astrid hardly looked presentable, snow stuck in her hair and on her clothes, when she finally rang the doorbell of Chief’s Drive, 3. She cursed inwardly when she heard another series of fireworks go off in the distance, confirming what she already knew. She was too late.

What if the spell had been broken?

The fireworks were followed by a short bark, and several footsteps approaching the front door of a house that was very different from what she’d expected. She’d been looking for a student apartment, and had had to check Google Maps again when she’d finally skidded into a street with nothing but pairs of suburban family homes. Was Hiccup still living with his parents? But he had been talking about leaving his dog alone… Maybe they were out tonight?

She was snapped out of her thoughts by scratching, followed by a shout. “Toothless, down!”

Her stomach jumped at the sound of Hiccup’s voice, and completely filled with butterflies when the door opened to reveal a sheepishly looking Hiccup, his hair sticking out to the sides of his head, and an excitedly panting black Labrador.

She cleared her throat. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Hiccup mumbled, rubbing the back of his head and smoothing out his hair, making her quickly comb her fingers through her own.

“Sorry I’m late.” She gestured vaguely to her bike, which she’d left at the side of the street. “You weren’t wrong about them not salting the roads. I almost slipped like four times and had to walk for a while.”

“Are you okay?”

“I am.”

“And you’re here now,” Hiccup smiled softly, warming her heart.

The corners of her mouth pulled up at their own volition. “Yeah. Finally.”

“Do you -” Hiccup awkwardly stepped aside. “Do you want to come in?”

She nodded and crossed the doorway, only to instantly be sniffed down by Hiccup’s dog.

“I’m sorry,” Hiccup apologised. “He’s very curious.”

“Don’t worry, dogs don’t scare me. Is he okay with strangers petting him?”

“Oh, yeah,” Hiccup laughed. “A little too much so, I’d argue. He can’t get enough attention.”

She knelt down, giving the Labrador some well-deserved scratches and pets. “Did I hear you call him Toothless?”

“Yep.”

She laughed, squinting at Toothless’ jaws. “From what I can see, he does have teeth.”

“I got him from the shelter,” Hiccup explained. “He pretended to be a tough guy, like he didn’t need anyone to take him home. As I suspected, he was all bark, no bite. Hence, Toothless.”

“Why would he end up at a shelter? He’s so cute.”

Hiccup crouched next to her, pointing at where Toothless’ left hind leg was supposed to be. But instead, she only saw a stump.

“He lost it in an accident,” Hiccup elaborated before she could ask. Like Hiccup himself, she realised. “His owners didn’t want him anymore after that. Thought he’d be too much work.”

“No wonder he likes to receive some extra love.” She made a silly kissing face. “Don’t you, Toothless?”

Toothless happily wagged his tail and licked her cheek, clearly saying yes. She rewarded him with a few more scratches underneath his red collar, a dragon-shaped pendant hanging from it.

“Let me get you a tissue for that,” Hiccup chuckled, walking down the hall to what she assumed was the kitchen.

She got back up and followed him through a door into a kitchen that was more well-equipped than someone still in, or just out of college should be able to afford, connected to a horribly old-fashioned living room. Whoever did own this house was massively into timber and an embarrassing amount of tacky Viking decorations, ranging from historically inaccurate helmets to an actual longboat on display in a cabinet. The furniture was a thrown-together mix of old, Scottish-looking couches and chairs, finished off by a Scandinavian touch. From IKEA, to be precise. The seemingly only item from the 21st century was a big flat-screen TV, paused on a particularly cute shot of Baby Yoda.

“So you like Vikings, huh?” she grinned as Hiccup handed her a tissue and she wiped off her cheek.

Hiccup smiled, shrugging at his surroundings. “You should blame my dad for that, not me.”

Ah, so he was indeed still living with his parents, like she’d presumed.

“According to him, if you dive really far back into our family tree, you will find us to be actual descendants from Vikings,” Hiccup chuckled, gesturing to himself. “Which is why I look like such a warrior.”

She cocked her head at him and squinted. “I can kind of see it, actually.”

“Sure,” Hiccup snorted. “You’d probably kick my ass even harder than Snotlout’s.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,”  she teased, stepping a bit closer so he was forced to look at her. She could faintly smell him, a mixture of typical guy deodorant and something she couldn’t completely place. Which was his.

It made her want to curl her arms around his neck and get even closer. She was still kind of cold and he looked so warm, so like home, so like someone she had had to miss for way too long. How had she done it all these years, been content with only seeing him for a moment instead of every single day?

She hadn’t been. She’d been fine, she’d been good, but he looked like the gateway to great and she just had to kiss him, her eyes inadvertently darting down to his lips.

But she didn’t completely mind it when he awkwardly cleared his throat instead, because he just looked so darn cute doing it, revealing the gap between his teeth.

“Would you like something to drink?”

She didn’t comment on how he sounded slightly hoarse, and how the freckles on his cheeks now contrasted with a colour quite close to pink. She simply smiled to herself, feeling happy and so, so lucky to have gotten here after all.

“Sure. What do you have?”

“Not that much, actually,” Hiccup illustrated by pulling open a relatively empty fridge. “I wasn’t expecting guests.” He rummaged through one of the cabinets, triumphantly pulling out a brown package and waving it at her. “But of course I do have hot chocolate powder.”

“Well, it’s not real hot chocolate…”

“Obviously.”

“But I think it’ll do.”  

“Oh, it will do,” Hiccup reassured her. “My culinary skills shouldn’t be underestimated.”

He illustrated his point by pulling a pan out of one of the cabinets and twirling it around in his hand, only to almost drop it. She simply chuckled and shook her head as he put it on the stove, awkwardly shrugging at her as if nothing had gone wrong at all.

She let her gaze wander around the room as Hiccup heated up the milk, her eyes following Toothless as he jumped up on the couch, and eventually landing on a side table full of picture frames. Unable to contain her curiosity and since Hiccup didn’t seem to mind, she walked over to them.

It was a collection you’d find in most family homes. They were mostly pictures of Hiccup as a child, looking a lot closer to the boy who’d spilt hot chocolate over her coat than the man currently expertly handling a ladle. Quite a few photographs featured a tall woman she assumed to be Hiccup’s mother, although judging by the clothing style, they were from the 90s at the latest. The least represented family member was a tall man, wearing jeans and a lumberjack shirt in nearly every one of his pictures.

A man whose face she recognised.

“Haddock…” she mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Haddock,” she repeated, looking back at Hiccup. “That’s your last name.”

“Yeah, Henrik Haddock, nice to meet you,” Hiccup smiled. “Did Snotlout tell you?”

“No.” She nodded at the photo frames. “I recognise your father’s picture.”

“Oh.” Hiccup frowned and crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. “How…? I mean, where…?”

“We have a wall of pictures at the police academy,” she explained. “I enrolled in 2017, and his picture is on there…”

Stoick Haddock, fatally stabbed by an everyday mugger when he’d almost reached retirement age. That’s what people had told her when she’d asked for the stories of brave men and women in the photographs.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she breathed, unsure of what to do with herself when Hiccup almost visibly shrank.

“It’s okay,” Hiccup shrugged. “I got used to having the house to myself.”

To himself…

She glanced back at the photos, realising why there were no recent images of Hiccup’s mother. She didn’t know if she had left, or died, and it didn’t feel like the time to ask. She’d simply been assuming Hiccup was still living with his parents, while instead, this house was simply the only thing he had left of them. The decorations belonging to his father, the old-fashioned style of furniture…

It suddenly all made sense. And gods, she wanted to hug him, hoping to somehow make up for all he’d lost.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated once again, even though she knew her sympathies couldn’t possibly make it any better.

“So you’re with the police?” Hiccup asked, obviously trying to change the topic, his voice soft. He’d turned his back to her, focusing on the pan in front of him.

“Yeah, although I’m still in training.” And you gave me the idea to begin with.

“Do you like it?”

“I do.”

“That’s great.”

He sounded off, so off. Her voice of reason told her she didn’t know him well enough to know his ‘off’, but she walked over to him regardless, leaning on the countertop so she could look at his face. But he pretended to be preoccupied with stirring.

“Is that okay with you?”

Hiccup scoffed lightly. “Why would it matter if I am okay with it?”

She didn’t know the answer to that question either. “Because it does.”

When Hiccup stayed quiet, she continued: “You gave me the idea, actually… Three years ago, when you joked about me being an undercover cop, I kept thinking about that and it just seemed… perfect. Becoming a doctor wasn’t for me, but I always wanted to help people, and I actually really, really like this job.” She had no idea why she was justifying herself to him, but she kept going anyways. “I wanted to tell you, to thank you, but I’d lost your number, couldn’t find any Hiccups on social media, and then on New Year’s Eve 2018 I didn’t get to talk to you because -”

“Because you saw me with Cami,” Hiccup completed. “I know.”

“Are you still with her?”

He’d asked her here himself, so he couldn’t be, right?

“No. We broke up over a year ago.”

And a year ago she was… “And I’ve never dated Eret to begin with,” she implored, because he still hadn’t met her gaze again and it was killing her.

Hiccup simply nodded, sucking on his lower lip before he spoke up again. “To answer your question; I don’t think I would’ve been okay with it if you had told me you’d joined the police two years ago…”

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. “But it’s been five years since he died, and it’s getting easier to remember all of the reasons why my dad loved his job. Somewhat. And I’m trying to be proud that he gave his life to save that woman, because I know that if he had been given the choice, even knowing he’d die, he would save her life again.” He finally looked at her, his eyes soft and watery. “And if you’re like him, then you’re simply another person to admire.”

Hiccup wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his green sweater, and she instinctively caught his hand on the way down. His eyes flickered down, and for a brief moment she was worried he’d pull away, but instead he interlaced his fingers with hers, making her heart skip a beat.

“Five years ago…” she murmured, taking another step closer. “You were sitting in that bar, and you just looked so…” She squeezed his hand, biting her lip as another piece of the puzzle fell into place. “I get why you didn’t want me to come over to you.”

“I just couldn’t,” Hiccup told her, his voice almost a whisper. He smiled to himself. “But seeing you, even just briefly, made that absolutely dreadful year a little bit less shit. It meant the world me.” He softly rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, sending shivers down her spine. “You did, somehow.”

Somehow. “Those weren’t my best years either,” she admitted, wanting to be honest with him, finally. “I didn’t know where my life was going, I was drinking and sleeping my student days away, and then I saw you at Gruffnut’s and I…” I wanted to go drag you into one of the bathroom stalls. “I just realised that I wanted to be better. For guys like you.” She swallowed, suddenly feeling awkward. She wanted to look away, but his green eyes only drew her in, deeper and deeper. “For you.”

Hiccup’s breath hitched. “So you felt it too…? Every year, every time…”

“Of course I did.” Because it was so obvious, right? In hindsight, it always had been. “Especially after I’d spotted you that year on the terrace, and you’d suddenly gotten unfairly cute.”

“After I’d seen you kiss another guy in the club the year before.”

“I remembered seeing you that year, not him,” she confessed, drawing in closer, also taking his other hand, which had stilled on the ladle. “I should have known then.”

“I should have known when you smiled at me, every time, even if I stumbled over my feet or was hurling my guts into the snow…”

“… especially since I still thought you were cute in spite of that,” she chuckled.

Hiccup laughed with her. “I’m such a Prince Charming.” Then, softer again: “I couldn’t believe my luck when you came to talk to me at the market.”

“My heart broke in even more pieces than my phone when I realised I’d lost your number.”

“I’d looked up all your socials, but didn’t contact you because I thought you weren’t interested after all.”

The confessions were just pouring out of her, with no end in sight. And she didn’t want it to end. “When I saw you with that girl the year after, I thought I’d missed my shot.”

“I figured you’d obviously moved on when I saw you on the back of that motorcycle.”

She inched in closer, looking for his warmth. “And then this year, I couldn’t shake the feeling that…”

“With the end of the decade…” Hiccup nodded, leaning his forehead against hers.

“Tonight was the last chance I had to find you.”

Hiccup squeezed her hands. “I’d already given up. I stayed home, thought I didn’t need you, that it was fine, that if it was never right before, why would it be right now? I’m so sorry, Astrid, I -”

“But I made it here,” she whispered, closing her eyes, her nose brushing against his. “I was too late, I only got here past twelve, but it still feels…”

“… right,” Hiccup completed, his breath hot against her lips.

And then he kissed her.

She had missed the fireworks at 12 o’clock, but she was absolutely sure that they could never measure up against the ones currently setting her body ablaze. The feeling of his lips against hers made her skin tingle, down from her toes up to where Hiccup softly cupped her cheek, deepening their kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in even closer.

They separated after a glorious eternity, leaving the both of them panting as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Hiccup’s beautiful eyes, his gorgeously long fingers sliding down to her waist.

“I don’t know what this is,” Hiccup whispered after kissing her again. “I don’t believe in soulmates, or meant to be, fate is a bitch after all, and -”

“Me neither,” she cut him off, chasing after his lips because it never lasted long enough, because she wanted more.

“But - and this is going to sound really sappy -”

“You talk too much?”

Hiccup’s face broke into a wide grin, and she couldn’t help but smile too.

“I’d like to take this next decade to find out.”

She didn’t tell him she wanted that too. She simply kissed him, giving him all the confirmation they had both so sorely needed for too many years.

It was obvious to her, after all.

It had taken her a decade to find him. And she didn’t want to lose him ever again.

[ask-the-jsegos-archived]

You mentioned some shared experience with JJ? What happened (if u dont mind me asking)

Ah yeah, that... Well, it’s a bit personal but I don’t mind sharing! It does involve eating disorders though, so I’ll just keep talking under the cut.

Alrighty. So, this isn't something I talk about often, but I do think it needs to be addressed, for multiple reasons. One reason being the stereotype that only white girls have eating disorders. Neither Jamie nor I are white girls (obviously), and we've dealt with crippling issues along these lines.

Anyway. For context, I'll talk about my original battle first. I've never had a straightforward relationship with food. For me, it's always been too much. When I first started falling into bad habits, I was just starting highschool. I'd been working out for a couple years before, but it just got more and more intense once highschool hit. I could probably make a whole other post on the reasons why I fell into a disorder in the first place, honestly. I started doing less stamina workouts and more fat loss/muscle gain. I started eating just a little bit less every week, just enough so i wouldn't tip off my family. I was losing so much weight, and I felt really good. But it never felt like enough. No matter how much I lost, I was always able to find that one spot that had too much fat, or the one spot that wasn't enough muscle. I was never satisfied with how I looked. Surprisingly, my parents never fully caught on until I'd moved out. They had their suspicions, but never acknowledged them. In any case, I'd moved out, and into an apartment with Marv and Henrik. The two of them had noticed from the beginning, and were constantly trying to make sure I was taking care of myself. Obviously I'd lie, say that I was fine, that I've definitely eaten today. It wasn't until I passed out on a dual patrol with Marv that I realized how little I actually knew about what I was doing to myself. After so many years of doing this to my body, I honest to God thought Henrik was gonna say that I've ruined it. But I hadn't. Not yet. Recovery was a bitch, and it involed many restless hours of not working out, lots of guilt after eating something anywhere close to a normal portion, and so on. Eventually, I was up to a healthy weight. My old superhero suit didn't fit me anymore, so I had to get a new one. I kept the old one though, thinking it would remind me of how far I've come. After around a year of recovering, I'd gone out parkouring near the skate park because I needed to do something. I wasn't allowed to go alone, so Marv had tagged along to make sure I didn't fall back into old behaviors after all of my hard work. This is actually when I met Chase! I'll spare you the lame, cheesy details, but we got to talking, and somehow I ended up accidentally giving him the opportunity to compliment me, which he did. Hearing a genuine compliment from someone I barely knew was almost enough to just make me cry, right there. And I almost did, too, but I'm under just enough control of my emotions to not start bawling in public, haha.

I got a little sidetracked there, whoops. But that's my fight. Now onto Jamie, and the shared experience we had.

When Jamie came to us, he was fucked up. We knew he'd be in a bad state, considering we literally just tore him out of Anti's grip without warning, but nobody was expecting him to be in quite as bad of a state. He really struggled with eating, but most of us just played it off as anxiety or something. But something that Anti did to him must have lead him to believe he wasn't worthy of eating, or something similar, because some of his behaviors seemed all too familiar. I noticed the look on his face when he ate, and I remember having made that exact one countless times. When he walked past a mirror, I saw how he quickly glanced, making sure he still looks "skinny enough." He started wearing baggier clothes, hiding as much of his body as he could. What really broke me, what made me feel just so awful for not stepping in earlier, and so so awful for Jamie, was when I caught him actually body-checking. His fingers were wrapped around his wrist and he was so caught up in whatever fat he saw in the mirror that he didn't even hear me approach him. I don't have many specific memories of things any of us said during this period, but I'll always remember that I said "Whatever you see, it isn't there. You're perfect exactly the way you are." I think that moment was the one that really started that bond between us.

Another event that strengthened our bond was our first relapses. The one downside of living with another person going through the same shit as you is that when one gets hit, you feed off of each other and you both end up in a bad space. I relapsed first. I don't even remember what triggered it, but the entire time I just felt like I wasn't really in control of it. It just took over, and I was along for the ride. I tried my best to keep it a secret, keeping my schedule the same, any extra workouts were done in the privacy of my room. This me was determined to be able to fit back into my old suit. Everything was going as planned, I was losing weight fast, and all I got was the occasional "You okay?" from the guys. Until stupidly, I left the scale out. Henrik had taken out the batteries and put it out of sight when both of us had recovered, just as a caution. I'd been using it for some time now, but I was usually pretty good about putting it back. I must have gotten an emergency call or something though, because I never put it back. When I get back, I start to my room and hear Jamie crying. So I knock on his door to announce that I'm opening it, and I see him sitting on his bed, his fingers around his wrist. I know immediately that it's my fault, and all I can do is pull him into a tight hug and apologize. We talk for a while about what the hell we're dealing with, and promise each other that we'll tell the guys ourselves this time. That didn't happen until a few weeks later (happy birthday Chase, your friends are relapsing), but we told them and they're doing more for us than we could ever have asked for.

As of right now, Jamie and I are both still working on recovering, but we're both in a really good space.

[silence-burns]

Tease //part 4 (the end)

Fandom: Fast and Furious

Summary: Imagine being on a mission with Deckard Shaw.

Ducking saved your head from being blown off, but your neck almost cracked. Getting older had its downsides.

“Where the hell is your plan now, Shaw?!” you yelled through the raging mess in the not-so-fancy-anymore hall. The party had been violently interrupted by your partner a few minutes ago, but it felt like ages ago.

“It's all going well, I have no idea what you mean!”

He shot blindly from his hiding spot behind a thick marble pillar. The fire of the party's security men was concentrated on him. A few were watching you, but you kept your head low. You could feel your gun getting lighter each bullet you spent.

Holding a piece of broken glass, you checked the mess on the other side of your hiding spot. It was a poor excuse for a mirror, all scratched and smudged, but it reflected two security guards slowly creeping their way closer to you.

“You know where you can shove your shark tank now, Shaw?”

“I'm afraid it won't be easy in these cargo pants.”

“I can help you if you give me some more ammo.”

“That's a bit demanding considering what we’re doing at the moment.”

Growling, you took a handful of glass bits which had been ground to a fine dust. You internally thanked Shaw for gifting you those impenetrable gloves.

You dashed out of hiding, keeping low. You threw the glass straight into the eyes of one of the men as if you were a child tossing sand on a beach. It earned you the few seconds needed to slip behind him and shoot the other one. Your gun clicked, empty and useless.

The corpse dropped. You snatched his gun, finishing the injured one. To your left, Shaw used the commotion you created to join the fun. The bastard had another mag in his pocket. Of course he couldn't have shared.

“You're a bitch, Shaw,” you snarled, snapping your booted heal against a man’s knee. It broke with a satisfying crack.

“Get outside.”

How useful. Totally like you weren't trying to do that for the past few minutes.

Two corpses and a bunch of stairs later, you jumped into the car Shaw parked outside an hour ago. He elbowed you hard, turning the wheel sharply. The velocity pushed you back into your seat.

The driveway turned into a street. Pedestrians scattered in panic when Shaw cut a turn sharply.

The mirror to your right didn't show any signs of a pursuit. They were probably busy counting bodies and crying over their dead boss.

“Coming through a shark tank… I can't believe I used to think you were the voice of reason for Toretto and the family.”

“That hurts my feelings.”

“Like hell it does.”

“Look, I'm already weeping.”

“That’s just sweat.”

The adrenaline began to wear off, your hands no longer shaking. Your pulse slowed down enough to make you sigh deeply. It was done. The Australian was dead, and rightfully so.

Your phone buzzed.

You paled.

“Who is it?” Shaw asked, sending you a glance.

“Hobbs.”

Two more buzzes cut through the silence.

You put it on speaker.

“Hi, Hobbs.”

“Is Shaw with you?”

“That's a rude start to a conversation.”

“We had a conversation last week. Now I'm just curious where the hell you both are.”

“I haven't seen him since Wednesday.”

Shaw turned left. Police signals blasted behind you. The sirens started wailing. The night carried the sound eagerly.

“Where are you?”

“Role-playing,” you dived into the back seat for a moment. You remembered you had left a gun there earlier.

“This is not the time for your games- Wait, are those sirens?”

“If you don't hang up now, you're gonna hear me moan. And more, possibly. Depends on how the evening goes. It's a deeply involving role-play. ”

“Care if I join? My life's been boring lately.”

“Maybe next time. ”

You checked the gun. A police barricade cut you off at one of the streets. Shaw drove over a plastic fence and straight through a lovely park.

“I'm watching the news and I better not find your dumb asses on the TV or-”

“Love you too,” you sent a kiss through the phone before ending the call.

You rolled down your window and shot an incoming police car. One of the tires gave out and sent it to the other side of the road.

“Are you sure you know the way?” you asked, watching a riverbank grow closer with every passing second. This was not a part of the plan that you were aware of.

“Only if you jump at the right moment.”

You pushed the door open just a moment before your car learned to fly. The speed hurtled you hard over the grass and into the bushes that pierced your skin in a dozen places. Your gun vanished.

Spitting out a mouthful of dirt, you let Shaw heave you up by the arm and lead you carefully through the deserted park. It wasn't a place most people would choose for a stroll at night, but you were sure it would get busy in a few minutes.

Bent low, the both of you creeped your way under the noses of oncoming forces. It would take them some time to figure out you were not in the drowning vehicle. Before that happened, you would be far away, though.

“How's your role-play going?” Shaw smirked, slipping down a back alley full of trash and rats.

“It's far from what I paid for,” you threaded carefully over something rotten.

“We can change that.”

“Hold your horses, Romeo. Get me to the shower first, please.”

The hotel you choose for your stay had a lovely garden in the backyard, deserted for the night. It also had a lovely set of backdoors with a lock you picked in a few seconds.

The hallway was empty. It was the part of the hotel where staff resided, with the kitchen, staff rooms, and a lot of storerooms for various cleaning products and mountains of spare sheets pillows. One staircase later, your eyes finally fixed on the door with number 23, your favourite one on that day.

“I wanna shower first, I smell like fish,” Shaw handed you the keys.

“Still better than usual. You'll be fine, I'll do it quick-”

Hobbs was sitting in the middle of the room. Looking at both of you. He was not pleased.

“Have I not been explicit enough about NOT pursuing the Australian's gang?” he asked, not raising his voice yet, even though you could feel the steel rising at the back of his throat.

You touched the knob behind you.

“Sorry, I did not consent for an ass-whooping session today.”

“Don't you dare-”

Shaw kicked the door wide open.

You followed him outside. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“You didn't have to join me.”

“And where's the fun in that?”

[queen-of-the-vampires]

everyone knows

characters: klaus mikaelson x reader, rebekah mikaelson

word count: 1,292

warnings: fluff, implied smut

summary: hiding your relationship with klaus is a lot harder than it seems.

beta: she wants to remain anonymous

squares filled: singing in the shower

author’s note: this is for my own fluff bingo and if you have any requests, please send them in!

feedback the glue that holds my writing together

tags at the bottom

Yeah, breakfast at Tiffany’s and bottles of bubbles Girls with tattoos who like getting in trouble Lashes and diamonds, ATM machines Buy myself all of my favorite things

Been through some bad shit, I should be a sad bitch Who woulda thought it’d turn me to a savage? Rather be tied up with calls and not strings Write my own checks like I write what I sing, yeah

The song came naturally to you as you took a shower that morning. Ariana Grande just happened to be your favorite artist, so it was obvious that her song would come to your head. Singing in the shower is something you liked to do often. If music wasn’t playing from your speakers, then it was coming out of your mouth. People have told you countless times that your voice was good, but you were always insecure about it. The only person who made you feel comfortable in your own skin was Klaus Mikaelson.

He was everything you wanted in a man, and you made that perfectly clear when you were accepted into his family. You were the new vampire in town, and he took pity on you when he saw some of the older ones picking on you. He let you into his home, and you became fast friends with everyone there. Right off the bat, you two flirted with one another because the physical attraction was definitely there.

At first, your relationship was purely physical. Every night you would find yourself in his bed as he would make the stress and worry dissolve. Nothing else mattered when the two of you were together. After a while, you had grown feelings for the man. They started forming when he and his brothers would leave town for weeks at a time, and you found yourself wishing for more than the night with him. He made you laugh, comfortable, and free. You could be who you were around him, and that is when you realized this relationship was more than just physical.

You brought up your feelings to him first, and he could not have been more relieved to hear it. He had been harboring the same kind of feelings for you but was scared you would reject him like literally, everyone else did. It seemed that the two of you would thrive when you were alone, so you opted out of telling the rest of the team about the two of you even if you knew they might have an inkling about you two. Things were going well, and you didn’t want someone from the family knowing.

Your home life felt much safer, and you felt more content with yourself once you and Klaus confessed your feelings. So, it wasn’t unusual to be in his shower since you practically lived in his room now. To everyone else, you went to bed in your room, but you snuck into his before sneaking out in the morning. There were downsides to hiding your relationship, such as not being able to kiss him whenever you wanted to and having to sneak in and out of his room, but you made it work.

Klaus was up before you were, and he decided to make some breakfast before bringing it to his room. He expected you to still be in bed, but when he heard your beautiful voice come from the bathroom, an idea sprung to mind. Setting down the tray on the bed, he walked into the bathroom before closing the door. The fog on the shower walls made it almost impossible to see who was in the bathroom with you, but you could sense someone out there.

“Is anyone there?” you called out in the middle of the song.

“It’s just me, relax,” Klaus said as he began undressing. Your shoulders slumped in relief as you continued with your shower.

“You were gone long enough. You manage not to burn the kitchen down?” you joked.

“I think you’re confusing me with yourself,” he retorted back, opening the shower door when he was naked. The new presence in the compacted shower gave you chills despite the water being hot. His hands found your hips at the same time, his lips found your neck. Being with Klaus meant there was a lot of sexual experience that still needed to be discovered, but after one try at shower sex, you vowed never to do it again. The last and only time it happened, you two almost fell and broke your arm, which would be hard to explain to your friends why yours and Klaus’ arms were broken at the same time. So, he knew not to engage in sexual activity in the shower, but that doesn’t mean you two still couldn’t get a little preview of what was to come later.

Turning around in his arms, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you placed your lips against his.

“I thought you already took a shower,” you muttered against his lips.

“I’m not here for a shower,” he whispered as his hands roamed your body. Grinning, you let him back you to the wall before kissing him with extreme passion. The water somehow made this event even hotter, and you reached behind you to turn the temperature down before your body started overheating.

Klaus licked your lower lip in question of access to your mouth which you granted. His tongue tangled with yours in a fight of dominance. He seemed to give up, and he trailed his lips down your neck before latching onto the spot he knew would drive you crazy.

“Klaus,” you moaned softly. Before he could get this to go any further, there was a knock on the door, and one of your friends walked into the bathroom.

“Hey, Y/N, did you see Nik anywhere?” Rebekah asked.

“Why would I see Klaus?” you asked as you slapped a hand over his mouth.

“You’re in his shower in his room.”

“Yeah, mine was broken. No hot water. What’s up?”

“There is someone in the French Quarter asking about one of his paintings, so I showed them one of his other ones, and they were interested in buying it for a really good price. If it were up to me, I’d get the most amount of money possible, but it’s not my painting,” he explained. Looking at Klaus in the eyes, he nodded to the unspoken question you asked.

“I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. Just go ahead and take care of it yourself. I don’t think Klaus would mind.”

“Okay, thanks, Y/N,” she said as she grasped the door handle. “Oh, and if you wanted to hide my brother, you wouldn’t have picked a shower to do it. I can see his ass through the glass wall and hear his breathing.”

“Shit,” you muttered as Rebekah left the bathroom. “Wait here,” you said to Klaus before leaving the shower. Wrapping the towel around your body, you didn’t even dry your hair or skin before you raced after her. Water spilled all over the floor as you caught up to her, an embarrassed smile on your face.

“Hey, please don’t mention this to anyone else. We really haven’t told anyone about us yet. It’s been good with just the two of us. Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Honey, the whole house knows. We’re all vampires, and you two aren’t exactly quiet,” she grinned.

“You guys all know?”

“Yes. Who cares? Just be happy with him,” she winked as she left your side. She did have a point, and everyone already knew but nothing bad happened, so you thought nothing of it. Racing back to your boyfriend, you vowed to finish what he started before he was allowed to go anywhere.

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[bae-roman]

Part I

Masterlist

Part II

It was almost 2 in the morning and Y/N was incredibly intoxicated, all thanks to her best friend, Roman Godfrey, who had convinced her to go out to unwind from another stressful week at work.

Y/N’s relationship with Roman began innocently enough. Her father had worked at the Godfrey Institute for the majority of Y/N’s childhood so Roman and her had pretty much grown up with each other. They got along well enough as kids until they reached that age where boys and girls being friends was simply unacceptable to their peer groups, but eventually reconnected the summer before they were to enter high school.

The pair had been dragged by their parents to another boring White Tower function and were the only two people there who were even moderately near their age. After managing to sneak a couple bottles of champagne the two teens found an empty room and played a game of truth or dare. During this activity it was discovered that they were both virgins. What started out as a dare for Y/N to kiss Roman led to the two deciding that they might as well lose their virginities to each other so they  - according to Roman - “wouldn’t seem like complete fucking tools” when they wanted to have sex with someone who mattered.

From that night forward, Y/N and Roman had been regularly hooking up. It was nothing more than non-exclusive, emotionless sex.

The two had also become close friends; it was nothing compared to Roman’s relationship with Peter, but on more than one occasion he had shown up at YN’s house bitching about his problems only to take out his frustrations on her in all the best ways possible.  

After Letha had died and Peter left, it was Y/N that Roman turned to and even though it broke her heart to see Roman that way, she was also infatuated by his new-found vulnerability. Though she could tell that there were things he was hiding from her, for whatever reason, she knew Roman better than to push his boundaries. At first Roman had been so clingy and needy it made Y/N want to kill him but eventually she grew to like it. The problem now, her current problem, was that she had begun to like it too much.

Y/N never had a thing for overly affectionate, emotional, romantic guys before, that’s why Roman was so great. He would make her cum and then leave her alone until the next time he made her cum. They also had rules that made their system work so well. They could kiss, flirt, and sleep over at each other’s places only when they would have sex.

Their system worked perfectly until Roman became dependent on her. He would often spend the night at her place and cuddle and kiss her throughout the day without trying to push for more. He had even begun kissing her at at the top of her head and playing with her hair whenever they would lay down together.

Y/N was conflicted. On one hand, she didn’t want to say anything to Roman while his abandonment wounds were still so fresh but on the other, she knew that them acting like this could only lead to trouble. Her contemplation over what to do was eventually realized to be pointless about a week ago when Roman had just finished giving her the best back rub anyone had ever received. If someone had heard her moaning, they would’ve thought that she had had 10 orgasms by now.

“Thank you” Y/N said, almost breathlessly, as she crawled over into bed beside Roman.

“Anytime baby” he replied with a wink while grabbing his phone to look through work emails.  

“baby”

It just took that one stupid little word being said to make Y/N realize just how smitten she really was with him. Once she heard Roman call her that she instantly knew she never wanted him to call her anything else ever again.

Logically, Y/N knew that he didn’t mean anything by it.

“baby”

She was infatuated -  not delusional, but something about the way it sounded coming out of his mouth made her want to wrap herself around the tall man in her bed and never let go.

Since then, Y/N had tried to think about what she should do about her feelings:

Tell him? -No, that would be dumb

“baby”

Avoid him? - Doubtful that Roman would let me go a full 24 hours without contact

“baby”

Run away? - It’s Roman Godfrey, he would have a security team tracking me before I could even finish packing

“baby”  

brain fuck off

“baby”

Shoot myself? -maybe

Luckily for her, Roman had been especially busy with work this week so the only time she really saw him was when he needed to get laid. The downside to this was that it gave her more time to ruminate over her current situation. Y/N had decided that her best course of action was to just ignore it. Push it down until it went away or exploded, but that was future Y/N’s problem.

The bar Roman had dragged her to was old and grimy -  like most places in Hemlock Grove. The bar table they were sitting at was sticky and reeked of alcohol but Y/N was too drunk to care. Considering Y/N’s tendency to become overly affectionate whenever she drank, she figured it would allow her to indulge her fantasies somewhat without striking up any suspicion.

Roman was too busy ranting on about how his idiot receptionist had managed to fuck up something simple yet again to notice just how intoxicated she was until she got up from her bar stool to stand in-between his legs and wrap her arms around his shoulders. Roman paused mid rant, put his arms around her waist and looked at her with a raised brow. Y/N smiled, used her finger to slightly tilt his head up and kissed him soft and slowly. Roman quickly took control by biting her lip before slipping his tongue into her mouth and pulling her closer into him. Y/N moved her hands from his shoulders into his hair and tugged softly before they broke apart. Once they caught their breaths, before Roman could say anything, Y/N grabbed his chin between her thumb and forefinger, bringing him back to kiss her again while the other hand trailed down Roman’s chest to his belt buckle and gently rubbed his groin. Just as she felt it begin to twitch, she abruptly pulled away and looked at him with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. Roman snapped back to reality and glared at her.

“You’re such a fucking tease when you’re drunk” he muttered

“Ya? well what are you going to do about it?” she said coyly, biting her lip while running her fingers up and down his chest.

Roman grabbed her hips and twisted her around roughly so her back was flat against his chest 

“I’m gonna go take a piss but when I come back I’m taking you home and fucking you so deep into the mattress, you won’t be able to find your way out for a week” he growled into her ear.  

“Promise?” She asked.

 Instead of responding, he kissed the base of her neck quickly in confirmation before standing her up and excusing himself to the restroom.

****

Hey guys! This is the beginning of a multi part fic I’m writing. It will probably be around 4 parts or so. If anyone wants to be tagged in future parts just let me know and if you have any thoughts, questions or requests for imagines, prompts, drabbles, etc for bill or his characters feel free to send them in! :) 

****

@ill-skillsgard

[beautifulweird0]

Forgiving Your Parents

I know too many people who’ve experienced some form of trauma from their parents. This isn’t a blog about bashing your folks- this is hopefully a post that will help salvage some strained parent and child relationships. Cause I been there, done that-and understanding your parent is only feasible if your parent is interested in understanding you. My disclaimer is this: The child isn’t responsible for mending the relationship...solely. I’mma tell you like this, if your parent doesn’t want anything to do with you...skip em’.     Because that’s backwards as hell and that takes away from loving yourself. Anyway you chop it, if you find yourself forcing yourself on a “parent”, the relationship isn’t going to go anywhere-AND THAT’S NOT YOUR FAULT OR CONCERN. YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL! YOU ARE EXTREMELY WORTHY. I’m so sorry your people ain’t solid; it’s a reflection of them-not you.

It’s my belief that something is wrong with a person if they want no parts of having a relationship with their child. Literally so messed up from their own unhealed traumas that they can’t find it within themselves to love someone they created… Ain’t no fixing on that unless you take they ass to a therapist.

Moving on.

I’ve always had such a strong feeling in my gut when I come across new people. It’s like they look at me and think I got it all. Truly looking at me and seeing a woman who doesn’t have insecurities or childhood traumas spotted along her path cause I’m kind and always make it a point to smile like Granny told me.      I’m usually a private person. But its always been that ‘pull’ on me-telling me… “It’s another little girl that is going through the same stuff you went through. Say that shit anyway. And with your chest.” . Think about it... Can’t a soul embarrass you about some stuff you open about. That takes all the fun out of their miserable lives if folks know wassup already.

    So as a 22 year old woman that been through some mess with her people, let me share pieces of me. Cause the last thing you want on your conscience is one of your parents passing and ya’ll not being on the best of terms.  I was listening to Mad Bitches the other day and Mikhala Jene said something along the lines of, “Nobody living is perfect”.

That hit me a little different. Like damn...nobody walks this earth perfect so...why do we expect perfection (again, subconsciously).

THIS.

   This is why I say if your parent is trying, then work with them. If they sit down with you and tell you how life was for them coming up. The good parts, the ugly parts, and everything in-between. Trying their best to be authentic and build a bond, then meet em’ halfway (if they haven’t been on some stuff that’s just unforgivable).

And shit, our people ain’t have everything at their fingertips as we do. The apps that spread information quicker than you could sneeze, weren't available. They couldn’t go on a ‘self-care’ page to calm themselves down if triggered or go on YouTube and watch motivational videos. Not making excuses, just using a little perspective that helps me! Yet and still, let your parent(s) know if they did something to wrong you; you gotta’ have respect for yourself as a human. Period.    I didn’t find out who my biological father was until I was about 16 years old. Up until that point I believed another man was my father (which he is still and will always be!). Sooo...I already had abandonment issues from my parents and my dad lived in a way at that time, that all parties involved thought it was best my grandparents took us in. That’s all I know is Granny’s (& Grandpa’s) house since I was a baby.     It helped that when my mom told me who my biological dad was, she was in a much better state of mind and stable-but man...I didn’t know what to feel. My sister was more upset than me (cause we have the same dad hypothetically).      So many questions ran through my head that I couldn’t even cry or be mad. I was shocked. Everyone played their role so well…

There was a long road ahead of me. Not only did I have to forgive my mom and dad for lying to me for so long, but there was a father in the same city I had yet to know.

My first point is patience. If you aren’t going to be patient with an end goal for you and your parent, you’re wasting your time. Being prepared for them to fumble sometimes is mandatory if y’all going to get to a better place. You mess up on certain projects or what have you’s a few times before you get it right...right? Give your parent the same energy if you were in their shoes. Cause baby...ain’t nothing worse than admitting your wrongs and still getting beat down. I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at my mom in that moment where she was vulnerable and upset cause she knew she played a part in hurting me. What was it gone do but make me feel bad and her feel worse?       Blowing up wasn’t going to change what happened now 22 years ago.Yeah, there’s hella’ books on parenting but I’mma tell y’all like my Granny told me, “There’s no such thing as a book on how to be a parent.”.

Having a child of my own- I’ve been witness to this. Folks can be shown and folks can be told on how to do certain things but with each child being different in this world, you have to be intune with them specifically- no book on that.I was through hell and back with my mother and now we’re in an extremely better place because we both made the effort (more-so on her part 🌚). But it was my responsibility to go into it with pure intentions and my guard down a bit after she made the effort; disappointment is what I expected sometimes cause I went into it knowing it was going to be a process.Don’t get it confused,  my mom always knew how I was-that wasn’t the issue. The new end goal was getting to know each other again so I could understand her better so I could forgive her. That’s no sucka’ shit. Its real. Everybody in this life is going to disappoint you, one way or another. Better to know what you’re dealing with so you can assess the situation in order to better assess the person. Free game.

Another step to keep in mind is, boundaries. I just feel like it will make the whole exchange smoother-not easier- but smoother. The point of forgiving your parents and (if you chose) trying to build a relationship, is to have them know you for who you are NOW. Not when you were 5, not when you was 12...have them meet you at your level. They dropped the ball, not you. Sure...nobody asked to be here but that becomes invalid when you start having babies of your own. It’s a different ball game when you bring a life into this world. Your joys become the joy of your children but way too often we forget that our pain becomes theirs as well.

My father always tried too-the dad that I always knew as my dad. On weekends me and my sister would go to his house before he moved to Michigan. Man I was a daddies girl-still am. My grandparents had the house on lock, couldn't watch programs with cussing in it or too much violence. Life of having Southern Baptist grandparents I guess.    The weekends at pops house was always interesting. I could watch all the music videos I wanted and watch the movies that didn't have too much goin on in them. My dad would do different stuff with us like go to the library; he always knew I loved reading. Sometimes my dad would take us to the park or a friends house who had kids (how I met my husband), water parks, or even cooking dinner with me and my sister; plenty of quality time where I could talk to him about anything. However, at the time, pops lived a certain lifestyle and no matter how hard he tried to shield it from us younger kids, I still seen things and experienced things a child shouldn't have. Again, comes with the lifestyle I guess. My dad drunk...ALOT. And it was interesting to see the 'upsides' of alchoholism and the very big downsides. I'd never forget, I was maybe 8? Another weekend at my dads, just me and my sister (I have multiple brothers on that side too plus another sister), and I woke up one morning on the couch. My dad was goin through some things- all he had was a couch that he let me and my little sister sleep on. My 1st thought when I woke up was where was my dad sleeping? My sister was sleep, and it was still fairly early in the morning. I go back to the empty bedroom to find him sleep on the floor. No pillow. No cover. Just a beer in hand, laid out. That broke my heart. Just remember feeling sad all over. I took the beer, threw it away then grabbed the pillow I had and laid it under his head. While doing so, my dad woke up, halfway and kissed my hand. He told me straight up he loves me and he apologized. Didn't go into detail but he didn't have to. My dad never had his pops in his life, nor his mama until he was grown and was taking care of her though her illness. I knew even at 8 years old that, that gotta hurt. I'm not gone sit here and act like I always understood the motives of my father but I tried because he always tried to understand me and til' this day, he is one of the top 3 people that KNOWS me like the back of his hand.

I had to forgive my parents because they’ve come a long way. Holding all that anger and resentment wasn’t gone help me in the long run. And in a way I can say I've helped to heal them by loving them through their screw ups. We always talk about a parents love but what about a child's love? I don’t want to pass down my pain to my son, he don’t need that- the world will give its fair share. But everyday I pray that the world won’t hurt him bad. I want my son to be nothing less than strong mentally, emotionally, but most of all spiritually. He won’t have that unless I’m solid. So I ask myself… ‘hm, what’s still hurting me?’.

We all got a story to tell.

Love. Peace. Manifest.

       ~Monet’

[wakasagayhime]

very long, very personal post

tldr, im still not drawing but here’s a detailed account of everything that’s happened in case anyone is confused or misinformed

alright. let me start out by saying i’m not going back to art just yet. it still hurts to do anything art related and i’m still trying to find a way to heal from all of this. i need some kind of professional help first, and i don’t know how long it’ll take afterwards for me to begin feeling like myself again. i don’t even know if i’ll be able to get any kind of professional help at the moment; my university’s counseling center told me, in short, that i’m so mentally ill that their services would not be enough for me and i’d have to look elsewhere (which is reasonable, tbh, they’re almost always completely booked so it’s difficult to actually even talk to someone there in the first place, i only got to talk to them to begin with because i nearly killed myself one night after having the most intense panic attack of my life where i felt like i was actually in the process of dying) and as if that weren’t enough, if you follow me on twitter you’d know that my mom finally left my stepdad, but this means that we no longer really have a home to call our own and are now living with some of my mom’s friends. on the bright side, miso is a lot freer and gets to explore the house as he pleases, but on the downside money is tight and my mom is trying her best to find a place to live while working two jobs and trying to help pay for my tuition. long story short, i want some kind of professional help badly, but all the bullshit that’s been happening in my life makes that difficult. 

anyway, i understand that i’ve worried a lot of people through all of this, and i’m sorry. i truly, genuinely am sorry for everything that’s been going on. i blame a lot of it on myself not being strong enough. if i were stronger, i wouldn’t care about some stupid internet trolls, or some random grown man in florida stalking all my social media. if i were stronger, i could take my life back. i wouldn’t feel the need to constantly contemplate suicide, or to torture my own body by starving because of my physical form feeling like the only thing i have left to be in control of. if i had only been stronger, like my old stupidly foolish overconfident 16 year old self who got into fucking STEVEN UNIVERSE DISCOURSE of all things, maybe i wouldn’t care. even when it first happened to me, after the initial shock and hiatus, i was pretty much back to normal almost instantly.  but this kind of trauma is sneaky and will gradually eat away at you more and more while you pretend to be ok, and then eventually you reach a breaking point and it’s taken over your life. that’s why i’m still obsessing over that day two years later. that’s why i can’t be left alone on december 13th this year, or else i know for a fact i will harm myself in some way. (don’t worry about that though, burger is going to hang out with me that day and i’ll be fine.) still, even though i keep telling myself my past self was stronger, i do know that she really wasn’t. she was still struggling with depression, anxiety, and self harm issues. maybe it just manifested differently for a while. maybe she felt unstoppable at some point in time because she finally found a girlfriend and got a cat. i got into so many fights that weren’t worth my time or energy at all, and part of me wishes i could be that confident again, but i also know that was my downfall to begin with.

i have followers who haven’t been around for longer than a year or maybe less than two, so i might as well give everyone a true, thorough rundown of what happened leading up to that day, the day of, and after. 

i’m sure a lot of you who are worried about me at the moment have seen the recent callout for colboh and his involvement in what happened. i’ll be honest--i don’t know the full extent of his involvement, and i want to believe his foolishness ends at not leaving artists who have blocked him alone and uploading their shit to booru sites when they explicitly state not to. so let’s just start there. i honestly don’t remember if it was before or after i first blocked him, but he uploaded one of my NSFW drawings to danbooru when i first shared my NSFW blog. (PROTIP: if you’re a minor, don’t share your NSFW art with anyone. don’t care if you’re 17, i was about to turn 17 myself. it will bite you in the ass. as such, some of this is my fault.) i quickly contacted danbooru asking them to delete it, and they did--but that artwork subsequently ended up on gelbooru as well, and i was unsuccessful in my efforts to remove my art from there.  

fast forward to december 13th, 2016. it was a normal morning. i was getting ready for school, but also being dumb and lazing around in bed browsing tumblr. i saw a post from a blog that shares Funny 4chan Screencaps. my art was in it. the art was of a very muscular yuugi, a drawing i was proud of, especially in how much gay energy i thought it radiated--but this drawing was being used in one of those typical “here’s a touhou, i wanna fuck her! am i right guys? let’s talk about how badly we want to fuck her” threads. seeing my art used for this was appalling. my first mistake was reblogging the post and saying how it was wrong, and how my art shouldn’t ever be used for such a purpose. my second mistake was making a text post AND tweets expressing my disgust at the situation, thinking no one who frequented /jp/ would ever see, sure that it would be a big waste of their time to concern themselves with some random dumb “”sjw”” artist. i also probably shouldn’t have specifically called them “gross neckbeards,” in doing so i absolutely struck a nerve with basement dwellers everywhere. i got to school and during my second period class, suddenly felt a strange urge to look at /jp/. why i did that, i still don’t really know. maybe i was expecting hate. maybe i was trying to see if they used my art for something gross again. i don’t know. either way, that moment changed everything forever. i saw the screencap of my tweets posted for everyone in their  circlejerk to see. even worse--i looked in the thread, and someone had also posted the NSFW art colboh had uploaded to danbooru, mocking it and calling me a hypocrite for drawing two girls having sex while also saying i don’t like my art being used for those kinds of threads. this is what truly ignited the amount of hate i saw directed towards me in the threads. i got called a bitch, a drama whore, got told to kill myself, and in one reply etched into my mind forever, someone said something along the lines of “we should all call her local gang and have them rape her, she just needs a good dicking.” there were multiple threads, too; i don’t know how many, but there was another one about me after the first one was deleted, in which someone edited a typical fat balding NTR hentai doujin style man into art i made of kagerou nosebleeding at wakasagihime. more disparaging comments were made. in both threads, people expressed their hatred and dislike of my art, some calling it garbage, some just saying it’s “bad,” etc. some people said the threads were unnecessary and rude, but they were a kind few in a cesspool of violence.

i don’t know who started these threads. i can’t assume anything about anyone, but whoever did this was definitely looking through all my social media out of bitterness and hatred, or perhaps even following me on both my tumblr and twitter considering the timing of the threads immediately after i complained. it eats at me that i most likely will never know who did this to me. i’ll never know who hated me so much that they decided to completely destroy my self esteem. if whoever it is who did all of this is reading this and feels any ounce of remorse, i’m begging them to reveal themselves and why they did it, but i know the chances of that happening are incredibly slim. someone, i can’t remember who, maybe it was queenly, told me they hope someday i reach a point where i don’t have to worry about that because i won’t care in general, but i still don’t know if i’ll ever reach a point where i stop caring about all of this.

like i mentioned earlier, after this all first happened, i was destroyed. the next day, my school’s GSA happened to have a vote for whose art would be on the club t-shirts, mine or someone else’s. mine lost. i broke down completely--anywhere i went, i wasn’t good enough, not for anyone. for days, there was a constant feeling of horror and fear  in my chest, something i’ve only ever felt so intensely when one of these threads resurfaces or i suddenly relive my trauma due to other things triggering me. i took a hiatus that lasted a few weeks, i believe i came back sometime before the new year. i thought i was ok, and i pretended like i could go back to being myself. but as time went on, and i continued living with the weight of that day on my back, i became weaker and weaker. i stopped drawing as frequently as i used to. my final year of high school started and i ended up falling into such a deep depression that i constantly skipped school and eventually attempted suicide in november 2017.  the suicide note i wrote cites that day as being one of the main things leading me to my decision, telling whoever did this to me that i hoped in my passing they’d have to live knowing what they did to me. my attempt only failed because i swore to take every pill left in the bottle and there were only four pills. had it been full, i’m not really sure what would have happened. i was sent to a mental institute afterwards for a week. being there was the absolute definition of hell. i was alone. i cried myself to sleep every night. they claimed to be a place where people were improved and got help, but i did not get any help at all. they basically imprisoned me for trying to kill myself. when i got out, i was only glad to be alive because i just wanted to be able to talk to my friends, my family, and my girlfriend again. it still shocks me that i was able to graduate from high school considering how much school i skipped before and after my suicide attempt.

sometime before that school year ended, i became extremely upset one afternoon and decided to run away from home. i had what happened to me and what was said about me that day running through my head. i tweeted that i hoped maybe in running away i’d end up being raped like they wanted, like how i deserved. someone who i considered a friend replied to this with, “fuck you.” after all of this was taken care of and i was safe at home, i responded that i was sorry, that i wasn’t thinking right when i made the tweet. she responded that i was, and blocked me. i tried to explain that i said what i did because of the threads about me on /jp/ and the one response threatening rape, but this was disregarded and, seemingly, ignored. a few days later, the former friend in question started sending me anon hate on tumblr, asking me why i want attention so badly, accusing me of making light of actual rape victims by saying such a thing. i explained myself, but to no avail. i blocked her on tumblr, and left it at that. but then, at the end of the school year, when i was proud of myself for finally getting through high school without killing myself or failing or anything, i stumbled upon the second thread. the date the thread was created lined up exactly with the time between me running away from home and me receiving anon hate. she can try to act like she didn’t make the thread all she wants, but i’m not an idiot. the replies were also eerily similar--people in the replies remembered me, a year and a half after the original thread. some replies mentioned me having attempted suicide months before. some mentioned my NSFW art again. i had a massive breakdown and nearly drowned myself in the pond down the road. it was a wet, rainy night, and i sat on a bench by the pond sobbing loudly, trying to find some way to want to keep living. but i couldn’t. i might have gone through with it if it hadn’t been for burger coming and talking to me and giving me a ride home.

entering college, i thought things would be easier. in a way, they are. i have more freedom with classes. this semester, i attended almost all of my classes, almost every day, just with the exception of me being sick some days and me accidentally oversleeping once, and then one day when i just didn’t feel like it. but things continued to get worse for me--i developed an eating disorder for many reasons, one being the time i spent a year prior depressed caused me to gain a significant amount of weight, and the other being i had sworn off self harm in the form of cutting. i found that i was able to get the same gratification from starving myself. at one point, it turned into a game of sorts, where i tried to see how long i could go without eating anything. my record was a little over 72 hours. being constantly hungry or in pain this way felt like something i deserved in a way, but also something to distract me from the pain of realizing i was losing my love for art. i was in denial about it for months. i tried to keep drawing, but everything i drew upset me, saddened me, and even angered me. i looked at anything i made and only felt disgust. it was the one thing i used to love doing more than anything, and now i only felt shame. 

in november, i acknowledged this and decided to quit for good. recently, i discovered colboh had uploaded more of my NSFW art to gelbooru, even though i specifically stated on my blog to never upload my NSFW art to image sharing sites, specifically right after he uploaded my art the first time. by the time i found this, i had already sworn off art for good, but looking at the comments on my art on gelbooru (and rule 34--i guess they’re connected upload-wise like danbooru?) filled me with so much sadness and shame, not because they criticized my art, but because they said horrible things about my depiction of kagerou. for those who don’t know, i headcanon kagerou as a trans woman, and one thing i do not regret about my time as an artist is how that depiction has helped numerous trans women feel good about themselves and their bodies. seeing so many disgusting comments deliberately misgendering her and making other transphobic remarks hurt me on a completely new level. my trans friends have been such a source of strength for me through all of this and seeing that made me feel disgusted, especially with myself. i felt like i had failed them. i had made so many trans women happy, only to see a man i blocked two years ago had uploaded my art to porn sites, tagging it with dehumanizing words like “f*ta” that i specifically tell people never to refer to my art with, displaying that art for the exact same crowds of people that ruined everything december 13th 2016 to continue to pick apart. one comment even told me to kill myself, effectively bringing back every memory of that day. 

speaking of that, another thing i want to touch on now that i’m up to speed with the details of everything that’s happened related to the original threads two years ago, is kagerou. i’m positive you all know that i really love kagerou imaizumi, and that she’s my favorite touhou character. it’s embarrassing to say, but she’s brought me so much comfort through all of this. sometimes if i’m sad, i’ll imagine her giving me a big hug, or i’ll look at cute pictures i have saved of her, or something along those lines. it’s pretty cringy for a fictional character to make me happy, i know, but i’ve grown so attached to her and she really means a lot to me. and another thing that made me want to swear off art is because she’s loved by so many others that i don’t think my depictions of her do her any good. i’m constantly compared to other artists, and it’s never good. even in the threads, i’m told i should be more like those other artists and these things wouldn’t happen to me. i am not allowed to love kagerou imaizumi. i draw her as a hairy trans lesbian, and that disgusts people. hell, the fact that i draw lesbians in general disgusts people, which sure fucking sucks because i constantly hate myself for not being attracted to men and being able to draw happy lesbians made me feel better about myself. but i’ve ruined kagerou for so many people, especially with my stupid kagewaka bullshit. maybe that’s why those artists unfollowed me. maybe it’s a combination of that and my constant breakdowns becoming far too annoying. i think all the popular artists who used to like me and then unfollowed/softblocked me are really glad to see that i’ve given up. and that’s something else that saddens me too--even as an artist, in my own community of touhou artists, i often feel like i’m lesser, and that i don’t belong. maybe it’s because i’m so foolishly outspoken about my opinions that they dislike me. maybe it’s because i’m a woman, and a lesbian at that. i don’t really know why they hate me so much. i wish i could belong somewhere.

and i think that’s what it all boils down to in the end. i’ve lost all sense of belonging. when i was 14 and people started noticing my art for the first time, i finally felt like i had something. like i belonged somewhere. after being bullied through middle school and having to deal with abusive friends and an abusive dad, it meant the world to me that i finally had something. but it didn’t last long at all. it all came crashing down, not just because of others, but because of me. i was the one who was cocky, getting into fights that weren’t worth it. i was the one who provoked people and made them hate me. i was the one who complained about /jp/ posting my art in their threads. i know people want to believe that i’m a saint, but i’m not. i have myself to blame too. i at least want everyone to understand this, above all else. there was so much i could have done differently to prevent this all from happening, but i didn’t. i was stupid and naive. i was a massive fucking idiot, and now look where i am. i lost everything. i thought i had friends, i lost them. i thought i loved art, i lost that. i thought other really talented nice people liked me, i even lost that. all i have now is an empty shell of my former self. i don’t know what to do with it. i don’t know how i’m going to rebuild myself. it’s so painful to have to keep living like this. i don’t know if there’s any fixing me at this point. i’ve lost so much, i feel permanently broken.

but despite all of that, despite everything i’ve been through, i still receive so much love and support from my followers and friends and it means so much to me. it means the world to me and has kept me going through all of this. knowing that people care about me and want to see me get better and improve makes me want to try to fix myself even if i am broken beyond repair. i just want to thank you all for being that source of strength for me. these past few years have been so hard for me and time and time again i still get love and encouragement from so many people. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. there is nothing more precious to me than those moments when i feel like i do truly belong, when i feel loved, when i feel like i’m not alone after all. for those moments, i’ll keep trying. even if these threads keep continuing and breaking me further, i’ll keep trying. even if every last artist in this fandom comes to hate me and my shitty art, i’ll keep trying. it’s still painful to draw right now and i have a long way to go before i can share art with anyone again, but for you all, i’m going to keep trying my best. at the end of the day, i know everyone’s encouragement and love is worth far more than hate threads urging me to kill myself. 

i’m sorry how long and personal and unnecessary this is, but i felt like i had to set things straight. if you read all of this, i applaud you. if you just kinda skimmed through to read the last paragraph, i also appreciate it. again, thank you. 

[bangtanfanfiction]

♢ Pairing: Jimin x Reader College AU

♢ Word count: 4.5 k

♢ Genre: Fluff, comedy  - Warnings: Swear words, implied sex

⌲ Description: You’re being dragged out to a club by your best friend only to encounter a guy you’ve been trying to avoid for the past few weeks. Imagine your surprise when your savior in a leather jacket comes swooping in.  

A/N: This was actually supposed to be a small drabble. But all of my “small drabbles” end up becoming a full length fic anyway, so I don’t know why I keep trying... And I really wished I knew how to write smut, because it would have been great with the story :/

pls excuse my mistakes ^^

MASTERLIST

You honestly didn’t know how you ended up here.

Here, being the place that you practically swore to never visit again because of your previous experiences.

It was the ‘It’ club for your university because they offered a 30 percent discount for students at the entrance. And you could understand that, because being a college student yourself you found out that being broke was really a bitch.

But that was as good as this place got.

First off, the drinks were ridiculously overpriced. You weren’t one to throw yourself headfirst towards the alcohol and always preferred to start slow and easy, so a bottle of Smirnoff Ice would usually end up being your choice. But the club sold it for like 8 or 9 dollars a bottle, while you could have paid half the price of that in a grocery store.

Second off, the music. You were never really that picky about what music you listened to most of the time. As long as it had a good beat that you could move to, you didn’t care about the lyrics. But another time you had decided to come to the club they had a DJ that was practically in love with the EDM genre. Every time a good song would come on, he would suddenly start to mess around on that board and then make his own remix and let the “beat drop”.

Every. Single. Song.

Let’s just say you ended up leaving an hour after you had entered with a pounding headache.

And then there were the people. Again, you had never been a judgemental person to begin with. You always made sure to smile, be polite and walk away if things got a bit hostile. You just didn’t have the time or patience for any kind of drama in your life. Most of the customers were obviously from your university, but you never recognized any of them anyways. But the alcohol also made some people a bit too forward for your taste. Mostly guys, but there has been a few awkward incidents with a couple of girls trying their moves on you.

But here you were yet again.

In the same club where you have only experienced bad things, all because of the one person you couldn’t say no to, dressed in your own choice of clothes - thankfully. It was getting colder and colder outside as winter approached steadily and there was no way you were stepping out of your door with a tight mini dress. Instead you wore a pair of black high waisted skinny jeans, that you admitted made your butt look great. To finish it off you had chosen a white cropped top with a v-neck that showed a good amount of cleavage and thrown a red wine colored leather jacket over.

“See anyone you like?” Ayana’s voice said into your ear with obvious excitement.

“No, I don’t,” You replied uninterested, not even looking away from your bottle of Smirnoff Ice as you swirled the liquid around in the glass containment.

“C’mon, why you being such a party pooper?” She whined.

“I’m being a party pooper because I had no intention to party,” You said obviously as she rolled her eyes.

Ayana became your best friend after you had met for the first time in freshman year. She was an international student who had moved to Seoul from California. Four years later, the two of you were still attached by the hip. You with your calm and reasonable personality, while Ayana had her wild moments now and then, but still walked around with a smart head on her shoulders. You had always admired her because of her fierce personality. She never took crap from anyone and was ready to start a damn fight at a moments notice. Not only was she fierce, she was sassy as well. Sometimes too much, but you loved her the same. Not to mention that she was drop dead gorgeous. With her golden caramel brown skin that didn’t seem to have any trace of acne or pimples and hazel nut eyes. Her body was the kind you found on magazines and famous instagram models - fit yet curvy with the right amount of booty and chest. You’ve found yourself admiring her body more times than you could count over the years, and she knew it. So as a running joke, Ayana would always pretend she had sent you some nudes and say it out loud in public only to embarrass you with a saucy wink following.

Tonight she had opted for a classy black mini dress entirely made out of glossy leather that stuck to her like a second skin, and made her legs look endless with the pumps. It had two thick straps over each shoulder that made the dress pull up her breasts even more. They were her favorite assets to show off along with her butt. And you could understand that. Because Ayana honestly looked sexy 24/7 whatever she wore. The downside of having such a great body, you thought sarcastically.

“But you’re looking so bangin’ tonight! You can’t just sit here the whole night!” She argued.

“I’m not planning to get laid tonight, Ana,” You told her.

“Not even a little bit of fun?”

“Nope,” You said, leaning an elbow on the bar table behind you.

“Seriously when was the last time you had sex?” Ayana looked at you seriously.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Like a year ago probably.”

“Wait, what about that guy I introduced to you last month?”

“Yeah no I lied, nothing happened,” you confessed with a grimace.

“But you said he was cute!” She exclaimed.

“Then I found out he kissed like a dog, so no way if he’s touching anything else,” you pointed out.

“Okay fine, in my defense I didn’t know he was that bad at kissing,” she admitted. “But come on! You haven’t had any, I don’t know - cravings lately?”

You snorted as you sent her a amused look. “Cravings? What am I? A vampire?”

“How can you not be horny?” Ayana finally exclaimed, and a bit too loudly as a few people nearby glanced in your direction despite the booming music.

“Will you fucking chill?” You hissed in embarrassment. “Jesus christ, not everyone needs to have sex all the time to function like a normal human being.”

“A year, Y/N. One year. That’s unnatural.”

“No, you’re just too much of a damn hoe,” you said unbothered, seeing how the two of you spoke that way too each other daily.

“Probably,” she agreed. “But you can’t tell me that you haven’t thought about it at all?”

“Of course I have, I’m still a human you know. There just haven’t been any guys to catch my attention yet.”

And as Ayana went to open her mouth you lifted a finger to stop her with a stern gaze. “You will not play matchmaker again. I’ll manage on my own.”

“You managing something basically means nothing,” she argued.

“Exactly.”

In the end Ayana had given up and simply thrown her arms up in exasperation before vanishing into the crowds of people as you looked after her, laughter spilling out from between your lips. Honestly, making Ana mad and irritated were probably one of your favorite things. She was so easy to rile up, and you took quite advantage of it, as she knew herself. 

Your friendship just worked like that.

But now that you were left alone again - finally - you slipped into the tall bar chair behind you and turned it around so your back faced the dance floor. Getting lost in your own thoughts, you also noticed how one of the two bartenders maintaining the bar was busy with wiping the glasses, while the other one moved from one side to the other and fixing orders for the impatient customers that were crowding by the cashier.

You were clever enough to stay away from that side, seeing how busy it was. So you were free to move, drink and look around where you sat. Usually when being dragged to a place you weren’t interested in, you would focus on the people and snort at their drunken mishaps. But you felt particularly under the weather tonight. Not even the small amount of alcohol could get your mood up.

Not that you actually would call a Smirnoff Ice for alcohol. It was basically a soda, and it didn’t affect you in the slightest.

Taking out your phone from your pocket, you instead checked out your social medias to see if there was anything exciting happening. But right in the middle of scrolling down on Instagram, a voice out of nowhere appeared on your right side.

“Y/N hey!”

You had jumped and turned your head to see who it was, before your face automatically morphed into the fakest smile you could muster.

“Tyler! How are you doing?”

He leaned forward for a hug which you returned, though awkwardly.

Tyler were one of the guys you had gotten to know throughout your three years of college so far. One which you ever regretted talking to in the first place. There wasn’t actually anything wrong with the guy himself. He was very nice and a gentleman from what you had experienced. Though you wouldn’t call yourself as friends. More like acquaintances. You had first met at a private party about six months ago. He had like always been very welcoming and nice as you knew, while the two of you exchanged a few conversations getting to know each other. Other than that you didn’t really pay attention to him, seeing how he was quite busy with a girl that night.

You didn’t meet Tyler again until maybe two months later at a bar with a couple of mutual friends. He had been very kind that time as well, though very persistent about taking you out on a date to the point that you even grew a bit uncomfortable. Not that your friends had been much help while sitting at the same table. They had watched the scene unfold, laughing quietly to themselves as you tried to reject him gently. You had gotten quite drunk that night actually, and hoped Tyler would have forgotten it as well.

But as you woke the morning after with the worst headache yet to date, and the feeling of wanting to puke your insides out, your phone was lit up with several messages on Facebook. It had been from Tyler, who was still insistent on taking you out. And apparently you had said yes the night before. You remembered of course, but it was said sarcastically - which he took seriously. So you had no choice but lie and instead replied with how you couldn’t remember anything of last night.

That was about two months ago. And even if his messages had decreased significantly lately, Tyler was still confident about taking you out. Never being shy on the compliments and his terrible pick up lines on the times you rarely bumped into each other. You had even stopped going out with the mutual friends that the two of you shared, in fear of meeting him again.

But of course, he had to be at the club the day you were as well. Great.

“I’m good, it’s been a long time!” He grinned widely, his brown hair having been slicked back tonight and not the usual mess.

He wasn’t necessarily the most good looking guy you had met. He was quite average actually, as mean as it sounded. But you never had it in you to be mean to people, even when it came to rejecting guys. So your strategy was to slowly but surely cut your contact with them until they no longer were interested. 

It had worked all the other times, but Tyler was a different case you realized.

Dressed in what looked to be every day dark jeans, and a light blue dress shirt which remained untucked, he looked like any guy you passed on the street on a normal day.

“Yeah it has,” you laughed uneasily, hoping he hadn’t realized that you ignored most of his messages lately.

“You’re here alone?” Tyler questioned as he made himself comfortable beside you, and didn’t seem like he was leaving any time soon. 

You could feel the hope in you slowly evaporating.

“Uhm I came with a friend. Actually….” You trailed off, your eyes searching the dance floor for Ayana, though she was nowhere in sight. “...I can’t see her at the moment,” you then admitted.

“No worries, I can keep you with company!” He grinned as if winning the lottery.

“Oh yay…You don’t have to,” You don’t know if he noticed your complete lack of excitement in the reply, but he didn’t seem react to it, which you wondered yourself was bad or good.

You went with bad. Because at least he would have gotten to know about your slight dislike at his presence.

“It’s fine. I’m having more fun with you here anyways,” Tyler looked at you, smiling what you assumed was supposed to be charming.

You didn’t say anything and simply replied with an awkward smile as you called over the bartender and asked for another drink. This time something stronger. 

He returned with a shot of tequila and a glass of rum and coke.

You thanked him as he leaned closer to whisper something in your ear. “Shot’s on the house,” he then smiled sympathetically as his eyes flickered to Tyler before leaving to serve other customers.

Great, even the bartender had noticed your dislike of him. Everyone but the guy himself.

“Wow going extra hard on the alcohol today, huh?” Tyler tried to sound teasing, but you only found it annoying.

“Bottoms up,” you sighed, not even looking at him as you lifted the small glass and downed the liquid.

It tasted bitter and burned down your throat as you grimaced slightly, before putting the piece of lemon in your mouth. Tyler let out an uneasy laugh, seemingly a bit put off by this behavior of yours that he had never seen before.

“So Y/N, I’m free this Friday. You wanna go out for a movie or something? We can eat some dinner after,” he offered, coming a bit closer and trying to be smooth about it. 

It wasn’t like you had anywhere to go, sitting on the chair and facing the bar. You didn’t even look at his face as you replied and took a sip of your drink. “Sorry, I’m busy.”

“Oh,” he deflated. “What about Saturday? We can-”

“I already have plans.”

His confidence finally seemed to waver, but not completely. “I know that the weather on Sunday is quite nice if you want t-”

“Hey, there you are babe.”

You had never been so speechless in your whole time of living on this earth before, to put it lightly. Your body had completely frozen up when an arm out of nowhere suddenly rested around your shoulder, and your head snapped up to your left side so fast you probably could have snapped it, to see who was standing there and calling you babe.

It was a stranger.

A good looking stranger, but unfamiliar nonetheless.

Because you were sure you would have remembered a face like that.

The first thing that your brain registered was the sharp jawline right above you with plump lips pulled into a small smile. Your eyes then followed it up to lock eyes with a pair brown irises and locks of blonde hair that were pulled in a middle part. You secretly admired how flawless his skin looked.

“H-hi,” You had stuttered out bewildered.

“Who are you?” Tyler had straightened up from his comfortable position and looked at the guy beside you with suspicion.

“I’m her boyfriend, who are you?” The blonde stranger replied smoothly, before raising an eyebrow in return.  

“Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Tyler actually had the audacity to scoff out, as if he knew you at all.

You couldn’t help but send him a look that spoke of your disbelief, which he of course didn’t notice. Christ.

“Actually,” You decided to speak up, smiling sweetly while doing so and easily following along with the act. “I do have boyfriend, Tyler. This is him right here.”

To try and make it more convincing you wrapped your arm around the blonde guy’s waist as you sent Tyler a look.

“Unless you have anymore business to do with my girl, I suggest you leave us alone,” The stranger spoke up again, this time the smile was gone and it was like his whole demeanor changed.

You couldn’t help but feel the shivers appear at his term ‘my girl’.

Tyler didn’t even bother to reply as he just rolled his eyes and turned around to disappear into the crowds of people again. You made sure he was completely gone before reality crashed into you again, and you hastily removed your hold on him as he did the same. Though a lot less awkward than you did.

“Thanks for that,” You laughed nervously. “He wasn’t really taking the hint.”

Your savior in the leather jacket chuckled as he leaned against the bar table using his elbow, one foot crossed over the other and faced you.

“You’re welcome. I couldn’t exactly leave a damsel in distress now.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call myself a damsel, but sure whatever you say Romeo,” You smiled, not being able to keep yourself remaining casual.

The guy was really charming.

“Romeo?” An eyebrow arched up at your nickname.

You simply shrugged. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

He remained silent for a few seconds, but the smile never left his face. “The name’s Jimin. Park Jimin that is.”

“I’m Y/N,” you responded and offered a hand which he accepted.

Taking a closer look, you let your eyes slowly trail down his body. Jimin was wearing what looked to be black skinny jeans that were ripped at the knees paired with a white dress shirt, one side of it tugged into the waistband of his jeans with a fancy looking belt, while the other half was untucked. He wore a black leather jacket that matched his shoes and completed the look. It was simple, yet he made it look like a million bucks. You also saw the numerous of small holes in his ears, though only two of them were filled. A small silver ring on the left ear, while the right sported a more flashy dangling silver chain.

“So Y/N, do you study here?” He asked curiously.

You were drinking from your glass before replying. “Yeah, last year of my bachelor.”

“What do you do?”

“Literature. Doesn’t sound very interesting, but I enjoy it,” You said. “What about you?”

“I study dance, so the art department is where I spend most of my time.”

“No wonder I haven’t you seen you around campus then,” you said without thinking.

Jimin suddenly leaned in close enough for you to actually feel a change in your personal space as you stared at him with surprised eyes.

“Maybe you haven’t looked close enough,” he actually smirked as you blushed and let out a nervous laugh.

“Uhm…” You gulped, before changing the subject. “What made you help me?”

He luckily slowly leaned back again. “Like I said, I’m a gentleman,” lifting a hand, the same bartender that gave you the free shot came back over and put a glass of whiskey down in front of him wordlessly before leaving again.

Your raised an eyebrow at the interaction and glanced at the man and back at Jimin. He noticed it and laughed lightly, his eye smile becoming evident.

“That’s Yoongi, he’s one of my best mates,” Jimin explained running a hand through his blonde hair, and you looked on in fascination as it laid itself back down perfectly. Not even a single hair out of place.

Huh, interesting.

“That’s cool,” You said quite awkwardly and even cringed yourself.

You had never been good at acting social with boys or just people in general. Small talk was definitely not your area of expertise.

“Y/N!”

A form suddenly barreled into your side as you gripped into the table in panic and steadied yourself before turning to look at Ayana.

“What’s the matter with you?” You demanded.

She let out a giggle as her arms snaked around your waist, her head rested in the crook of your neck. You only let out a sigh as you pushed her head back slightly to take a closer look.

“Are you drunk already?”

“Juuuust a little bit,” she had a dopey kind of smile on her face.

“...you didn’t take anything else did you?” You asked cautiously

“Are you trying to ask if I did drugs? Because that’s racist,” Ana slurred and pointed a finger at you sternly, or trying to at least.

You stared back blankly before shaking your head, huffing out a laugh.

“That’s not what I meant, but okay,” you mumbled to yourself.

“But I found this really hot guy that I think you’ll like,” she unwrapped herself from the hug with you and grinned widely again. “I even double checked that he was a good kisser.”

This time you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Okaay, thanks Ana, but I’d rather not have a go at a guy you’ve already started on.”

“But I even found him just for you!” She exclaimed disappointed, swaying on her feet as you steadied her.   

“I already told you, I’m not looking for anyone tonight.”

She blew a raspberry at you as you looked on in amusement. Ayana then glanced over your shoulder before stumbling past, as you twirled your chair around to see her clamping her hands down on Jimin’s shoulders. He didn’t even seem bothered at it, only paying attention with laughter clear on his face.

“You,” she said seriously.

“Me?” He replied with a small chuckle.

“Would you fuck her?” She asked bluntly while pointing at you, as your eyes widened and you jumped out of your chair, pulling her away from him.

“ANA!” You yelled horrified.

Jimin cleared his throat as he took a large sip of his drink, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. But as he put the glass back down, you saw a confident smirk resting on his plump lips.

“I surely wouldn’t mind,” he even replied as you felt the blush creeping up from your neck and to your cheeks.

“Yes! I found you another guy, Y/N!” She told you loudly, as if you weren’t standing right beside her.

“Oh my god,” You muttered, lifting your hand up to your forehead.

“Whoops, gotta go, the hot guy is looking for me,” Ayana suddenly said after squinting at her phone. “If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”

“Wait, you’re leaving with him now?” You asked.

“Maybe later,” She wiggled her eyebrows. “See you around handsome,” Ayana then sent Jimin a seductive wink and hand kiss before walking away again, hips swaying.

“Make good choices...please,” You called after her weakly.

Slumping against the bar, you let out a sigh.

“Is she usually like that?”

You laughed at that. “Basically yeah.”

“And what was that about finding you guy?” Jimin looked intrigued, but you also knew very well he understood the meaning of it.

You were all college students after all. 

You told him anyways, some kind of hope bubbling up in you. “Well, you gotta have fun sometimes y’know.”

“Didn’t take you for that kind of person,” he raised his eyebrows, but even underneath the colorful and blinking lights of the club, you could see his brown irises appeared to look even darker than before.

“Last time I checked I don’t really know you, or you me.”

You didn’t even react when he got closer. 

Standing up from his chair and taking a slow step towards your direction, ending up right in front of you. Only a small space of air between your bodies  from touching.

“What if you got to know me?” He said, lowering his voice, but even you heard it over the booming music and your rapidly beating heart.

Jimin reached out to brush a stray piece of hair that fallen down in front of your face and tuck it behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin as they softly traced down the side of your face. You resisted the urge to shudder at the sensation.

That whole simple action seemed to have gone by in slow motion as you stood still in anticipation of what would happen next. It felt like the whole world had just stopped for you in that moment.

“Are you asking me out or asking for sex?”

He wasn’t bothered by your words and tilted his head slightly to the side as his eyes raked down your body so slow that it actually sent shivers down your back.

“How about both?” Jimin replied in a deeper voice than before.

“I wouldn’t mind,” You whispered as he got progressively closer and your head slightly tilted up.

“Yeah?” He replied just as low.

“Yeah,” You breathed out before throwing all cautions to the wind and closed the last distance between the two of you.

The moment your lips touched his, something must have snapped in him. Because Jimin was definitely not shy with his hands, which settled on your hips right away as the kiss deepened and you leaned further up on your tip toes to wrap your arms around his neck tightly. Jimin pushed you against the bar, the table digging into your back and leather jacket as you felt his tongue brushing against your lips and you granted him permission without a second thought. 

Your skin was burning from his touch and proximity.

“Hey, no sex in public!”

Jimin separated from you as both turned to look at his friend, Yoongi, who stood with crossed arms and a small glare.

“Put her drink on my tab,” He simply replied and pulled out his card before you could protest.

It was done in a couple of seconds, and you couldn’t even protest, because it felt like your head was still swimming around after that kiss.

“You wanna get out of here?” He leaned down to whisper.

“Mine or yours?”

“I kinda have several roommates, unless you’re into that kind of thing,” he chuckled lightly and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

He was just so cute in that moment that you couldn’t help yourself from leaning up and giving him a quick but sweet peck on the lips. Something that surprised him as he looked down at you with slightly big eyes.

“Mine it is,” You grinned, grabbing his hand and leading him away from the bar and towards the door.

Suddenly you felt yourself being tugged and stumbled back into his chest.

“What was that f-”

He had stopped your words with a kiss so passionate that even you let out the smallest moan against his lips. His hands were resting almost casually above your butt, either teasing you or showing off, while your own were flat against his chest. He then trailed those sinful lips to the corner of your mouth and further up to your ear, pressing a gentle kiss against the lobe before whispering.

“Tyler was watching.”

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, the sound being muffled by his shirt as you felt him smile against you and taking the lead this time, pulling you out of the club with your heart still beating rapidly inside you.

The night was far from finished.