#(( i wish you a good day a happy life and a fat paycheck

[get-chazzed]

I’ve been reading your dad Chazz thread and it’s super cute!! I wanna know how does Chazz react when his kids reach a milestone? (First laugh, first word, walking etc)

(( First of all, thank you very much! It's hard to write something you don't have any experience with and it's very comforting to know that it's not a pile of trash (I know I use very extreme words when talking about my writing, do not mind that too much). On top of thanking you for the kind words, I want to double thank you for writing this ask- it's encouraging and nice and it has made me very happy. On to the question c: ))

Dad Chazz headcanon dump under the cut!

For him to be a dad, Chazz needs to have matured emotionally A LOT. Of course he doesn't lose his playful side, but becoming an adult does imply that he can't be the same person he was in high school. Specifically what we need to touch upon here is his openness and honesty with his feelings: it's one thing to tell your friends that you hate them when they know it isn't true, but you can't do that to a child without them taking it to heart. That's something Chazz would be very aware of, so I believe he'd drop his guard around the kids in order to avoid saying anything he doesn't mean. Rather than being a character trait, denial becomes more of a gimmick- it doesn't come from insecurity, rather from acknowledgement of the aspects of himself that he's come to regard as faults.

Now, he's the youngest of three and was clearly never a priority for his parents or for his brothers (while no canon sources confirm this, nobody becomes an attention seeker from being smothered with affection) and I wholeheartedly believe that he's mildly salty about the fact that no pictures of him as a child were ever taken (especially because he's seen Chosaku and Shouji's). So the first thing is: pictures. He takes them and he prints them out. He must keep orderly albums and always write down the time and place in which each photo was taken. He likes to keep mementos and believes it's an act of love to show that he cared enough to do it.

So then, first laugh. That depends. If it was elicited by either him or the Ojamas, he'd be on cloud nine- making his child laugh has to mean he's best father in the world material, right? He'd probably get carried away and do something stupid (fall off the stair on purpose levels of stupid) to keep the child laughing. If it was because of someone else, then he'd just...

... Make that face. Smile fondly and admit to himself that humans might not suck so much after all.

First word. It, again, depends on what it is. However, leave it to him to take two random syllables and decide that the child has spoken. The reaction to that would be a loud scream of glee- possibly chasing his partner(s) around the house to shout about how the baby has said the first words and, last, but not least, calling Atticus (unless he's the partner, of course) to rant about it. Atticus has to know that the baby uttered two syllables that were most definitely not intentionally meant to form a word.

First steps. He does not trust the child to walk without falling over despite them having managed some steps, so while he's definitely happy and had most surely taken a picture to commemorate, he's also anxiously telling his partner to not let the kid walk on their own- they need to be monitored because otherwise they'll fall and no, he doesn't want to commemorate the first hospital stay just yet. Yes, he's a worrywart. What could you expect from a control freak.

In general he'd be very... supportive? As in very vocal with praise. First drawing he gets to hang in the office? A goddamn masterpiece. The kid has to know. They have a future in the arts. It's so good. Chazz could actually cry because of its sheer beauty.

First day at school? He's so damn proud. Fucking show them who's boss. You are, kid. That's fucking right. Punch anyone who tells you otherwise in the face. With words, of course. Your knuckles aren't worth getting scraped over some dumb kid. But yes, also study, it's good for you and Mathematics are far more interesting than they seem.

First bad grade? Eh. happens. He'd tell a story about his first failures- even make one up if the real ones aren't 'bad' enough. He tries to get them to laugh it off because it doesn't matter, he isn't disappointed, what matters is that they keep trying. It's ok to be bad at things. He keeps a recording of the one time he tried skateboarding just so he can show that you can be cool (like Chazz Princeton™) even when you aren't good at everything.

By the way, no, he doesn't swear in front of the kids. He has a really hard time with it. He's very relieved when they grow up and he can finally let loose. First time the kids hear him swearing? It isn't the first time, because they overheard him trash talking Aster Phoenix. They probably tell him it was about time he revealed his true nature. He just laughs because heck yeah, his kids are that smart (it didn't take a genius, Chazz). First time a kid swears? Intimidating glare until he actually goes, bends down and places his hands over their shoulders. "Not 'feck', kid. It's 'fuck'."

#(( that is all i had to say folks #(( thanks for enabling me anon #(( i wish you a good day a happy life and a fat paycheck #(( hope you liked this lil headcanon dump #// asks #// not a word about this (headcanons)

[barrysmanbun]

Could we get some more Barry fluff please?? x

A Proposal

A/n: If I had a nickel for every fic I ended with the characters exchanging "I love you"s because I didn't know how else to end them I'd have 3 nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened three times.

Description: Barry gets down on one knee and is kind of a baby about it.

Prompt: Barry + kissing away tears

Warnings: Barry x Reader, fluff, crying, I was going to say ooc Barry but honestly I don't think it is

~~

Today is just like any other day. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the trailer smells like weed and pinesol and the outside air is crisp with ocean salt. You and Barry lounge, in your typical comfy clothes, on your porch. Your legs are tucked up underneath you, leaning against his side while you read a book together. He holds the book, and already done with the page he gazes lovingly at you as you finish it.

In the very beginning of your relationship, years ago now, you had questioned it and shrunk under his gaze, embarrassed and confused. Now you know better than to question it and know he only does it because he loves the expressions you make while reading. When finished you look up to look at him with a smile.

"Done." You tell him, expecting him to simply change the page. Instead, he closes the book entirely and tosses it onto the coffee table. He gently repositions you to not be leaning on him and then slides down onto the floor.

Your mind immediately goes south but instead of spreading your legs he kneels down one knee and reaches into his cargo shorts pocket.

You blank, mouth falling open slightly. There's no way he's doing what you think he's doing.

He pulls a small box from his pocket and presents it to you, lifting the lid. Inside the box is a ring with a small gem on it, and while you know it's not a real diamond the ring still must have cost him a paycheck and a half.

“Barry…” You whisper, at a loss for words, but he holds a hand up to stop you.

“I just… just let me say this please.” He takes a deep breath, eyes darting down, and you can see now how nervous he is. “I want to start this out by saying I know I’m not the perfect partner. I know I’m bad at communicating and I still don’t ask for help when I need it and I always assume the worst and I’m easily jealous-”

You smile, remembering how just yesterday he had gotten jealous when one of his clients had looked at you for too long.

“And I know this isn’t romantic, there’s no candles or sunsets and we’re not on a fancy beach or at an expensive restaurant… But I… I’m in love with you. I can’t tell you just how much I love you. And I wish I could give you the world, but all I can offer you is me. For the rest of your life, if you’ll make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

You can feel tears welling in your eyes, and a tight feeling beginning in your throat so you nod quickly, saying, “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.” while you still can. He rushes forward, completely forgetting to put the ring on your finger and instead opting to kiss you passionately on the mouth.

He pulls away when it becomes hard to breathe, smiling widely. “Barry.” You whisper, bringing his eye back to yours as he slips the ring onto your finger. “I have great news. You are my world… so by giving me your hand in marriage you are technically giving me the world.”

He laughs wetly, smiling wide enough it has to hurt his cheeks and you realize that you’re not the only one about to cry from happiness.

Suddenly filled with the need to reassure your boyfriend- well fiance now- you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

“Bear, I want you to listen to me and listen to me good alright? You may not be perfect, but you’re perfect for me and there’s not a single person on this entire earth that I would rather marry.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, pulling out of your hands and bringing a hand up to press it against his nose. He’s obviously trying to stop the tears but he can’t and fat drops begin to roll down his cheeks.

“Shit.” he curses, ducking his head and wiping furiously at his eyes, “Now look at what you did.” he says in a joking tone.

You reach out, placing your hands back on his cheeks and pulling him close. You lean forward, gingerly pressing feather-soft kisses to his cheeks, kissing his tears away. Once his face is free of tears you kiss his nose then his forehead and he makes another choked noise like he’s going to start crying again. He throws his arms around your waist, pulling you to the edge of the couch as close to him as you can get, his arms getting so tight it starts an ache in your ribs. You don’t have the heart to tell him, though, as he buries his face in your neck.

“I love you.” He whispers, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my world.”

~~

Tags:

@pogueslandia

#barry imagine #obx barry #barry obx #outer banks #barry the drug dealer #barry x reader #obx barry x reader #barry x you #obx barry x you #obx

[fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan]

My Treasure - William Nylander

Request: Can you do one where you are pregnant with William nylanders baby and getting hate and he makes you feel better

Getting pregnant at 24 was definitely not a part of my 5 year post college plan. Then again falling in love wasn't one of my bullet points either. But when my period was over a week late I knew that everything was about to change. William was thrilled when he saw the bolded word on the pregnancy test, immediately wanting to tell anyone he could. I was a little more hesitant to share the news.

I knew that I wanted children someday and those feelings intensified once my relationship with William became serious, I just figured we would be married and I would be a little more secure in my teaching job before we would add a baby to the mix. We told our families first and they were all excited and happy for us, same with friends and teammates. The real problem came when we started to share the news with the rest of the world. On William's social media everyone was happy for us and wishing us well, but mine is where all of the hate went.

She probably got knocked up so he couldn't leave her.

Hopefully you don't gain too much baby weight, you could already stand to lose a little.

You're not even pregnant with his kid I bet, just went to the guy with the biggest paycheck.

I did my best to delete the comments as soon as I saw them, hiding them from William so he wouldn’t get upset. Some people didn't get the hint after the first deleted comment and I would end up blocking them. Two weeks after announcing our pregnancy the nasty comments were outweighing the nice ones of my post. My pregnancy hormones went crazy one day when my pants didn't fit for the first time of the pregnancy and William was away on a road trip until the morning.

I canceled my plans to go get dinner with some friends and instead had a pity party in some of William's clothes with ice cream and reading through all the horrible things that were being said about me.

I can't believe he is still with her, she is not pretty enough for him.

Fat cow

You are going to ruin his career with the child.

I cried myself to sleep on the couch after midnight and didn't wake up until someone was brushing some hair out of my face. Slowly opening my eyes I saw a concerned William kneeling on the floor in front of me. "Ellie, what’s wrong? Were you crying?" I sat up, making room for William next to me before he pulled me into his lap. "Your friends texted me last night and told me you skipped on going to dinner with them. Is everything okay? Is the baby okay?"

"The baby is fine, I just couldn't find anything that fit comfortably with the bump. I had a pity party with ice cream and must have fallen asleep." Everything I said was true, I just left out one major thing.

"I'm sorry babe, but can I finally buy you some new maternity clothes? Please." He gave me puppy dog eyes as he begged, causing me to laugh and turn to face him more.

"You love shopping more than I do."

"Is that a yes? I'm taking that as a yes. Go get ready, shopping might take all day." With that he was carrying me down the hall, laughing the entire way. When he finally set me down I managed to find a t-shirt dress that wasn't too uncomfortable and proceeded to get ready.

***

After a full day of shopping William took me out to dinner at our favorite Spanish restaurant. I excused myself after we ordered a bunch of small plates to share to run to the bathroom and when I got back William was standing at the table with a large plastic bag and shaking hands with the owner. "What's going on?" 

"I thought you might be more comfortable if we went home and ate. I've kept you busy most of the day so I know your feet must be bothering you." His tone was off but I brushed it off as we headed out. The drive home was a tense silence without even the radio playing.

I didn't say anything until we were in the apartment and William started slamming cabinet doors as he got plates. "What's wrong?"

"I just don't get why people spend so much time trying to make other people down! Like, what does it do for them?" He had a fire in his eyes I had only ever seen on the ice, and I wasn't sure what was causing it.

"I'm going to some more context here. Did something happen at the restaurant?"

"Before we left the last store I took a couple of pictures for our shopping day and posted them to Instagram. I thought it was no big deal, just sharing what I was up to on a day off. And then when you were in the bathroom your phone started buzzing like crazy so I thought someone was trying to call you. But all of your notifications were for Instagram, and I know I shouldn't have opened the app on your phone but I thought maybe it was your girlfriends' group chat and Sophie finally got engaged." I let out a small chuckle at that, we basically were taking bets on when her and her high school sweetheart would finally take the next step.

"I'm guessing that isn't what you saw." I knew what he was going to say next but I was hoping with every fiber of my being that I was wrong.

"No, I saw the worst of humanity in your DMs. I just- how can people be so cruel?" William slumped into the bar stool next to me at the island as I reached for my phone having to see what was sent to me now. "Ellie…" I ignored his worried warning as I opened up the app, going to my DMs.

Fat cow, you only got pregnant so that you could lock in some who is far too good for you. I hope he sees he could do so much better and kicks you out before that baby ruins his career and life!

So you are just using him for his money. I bet the baby isn’t even his, probably a teammate who makes less. Whore!

Bitch, why are you even with Willy? He is a literal hockey god and from what i can tell you are just some stupid high school math teacher. He can do so much better than you. 

There were over 50 messages just like those, all sent within the last hour. I didn't even dare look at the comments on my latest post, even though it was a few days old the braver trolls put their nasty messages there for the whole world to see.

"How long has this been happening?" I had hopped off my stool, going to plate up the food we brought home and trying to avoid the conversation I knew we needed to have. "Ellie… Please talk to me. How long?"

"Honestly, since we started posting that we were dating. It's gotten worse since we posted that we are gonna be parents."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because part of me thought that if I just deleted the messages and comments that it wasn't real. That if I was the only one who knew that I could just pretend that it was all in my head. Then there is that stupid voice in my head that likes to play up my insecurities, that made me feel like if you saw what people were sending me that you would believe it. And I know that thinking that is stupid and unrealistic but it can sometimes be the loudest thing in there." William also got off his stool, coming to stand right in front of me. He kissed my forehead before cupping my cheeks and holding eye contact.

"Min skatt, never feel like you have to hide this from me. You are the one I am in love with and want to spend the rest of my life with. You are the only one that can make me smile and laugh when I am in a bad mood after a game. You are the only one I see myself growing old, and possibly bald with." I let out a gasp at the word bald, he was so protective about his hair.

"See, the rational part of me knows all that."

"Well, let me make it clear to every part of you. I love you with every fiber of my being and as soon as I meet with your father next week to ask for his blessing, I will be asking you to marry me."

"Will…"

"But I am going to need you to act surprised when I ask." That got a small chuckle out of me. 

"I'll do my best." William's stomach growled then, making both laugh. "Let's eat before your stomach starts communicating with us again." William just nods, a thoughtful look on his face that I'm sure would cause problems later but right now I just wanted to live in the happy moment.

After reheating the food and settling at the kitchen island to eat, I went through and deleted all the DMs and comments. I barely registered what they said as I deleted. What I didn't know was Will was looking at the comments as I deleted before pulling out his own phone. It was only when my phone buzzed with another notification that I found out what he was doing. 

@williamnylander tagged you in a post

The post was two pictures side by side; the first was from our first date at a Christmas market, all bundled up and snuggled into each other as we took the photo in a mirror. The other picture was a selfie he took of us at my last doctor's appointment for the pregnancy, both of us were all smiles as I sat on the exam table with a picture of the sonogram on the screen behind us.

Two pictures of the love of my life. One from our first date, where I was a clutz and spilt hot chocolate all over her light grey coat and she still agreed to a second date. The other from a few weeks ago when we got another look at our baby. 

I can say without any doubt that having Ellie in my life has only made it better. She has become my sounding board for when I'm frustrated, my motivation to score more goals, and my ray of sunshine on any cloudy day. 

I knew from that first date that Ellie was the one for me, no one can tell me otherwise. And now she is carrying our first child. My heart continues to grow and fall in love with this amazing, kind, dedicated, caring, loving, and perfect woman each day.

I am so lucky to spend time with you each day and anyone who says otherwise is wrong and jealous of what we have.

Min skat, I am so excited to watch our family grow and experience the joys and challenges of parenthood with you. Ellie I love you and can't wait to see where we go next. 

Together.

The tears started flowing before I even read the caption, the pictures enough with my pregnancy hormones. But the words William managed to write push me over the edge, I was crying at the love he put into the words but also laughing at the not so subtle 'fuck you' to all the nasty people who sent you messages.

"Did I overstep? I don’t want to embarrass you."

"It's perfect. You're perfect. I love you."

"I love you too, and I plan on showing you that everyday. Even if it is something as simple as an Instagram post."

"It's not just the post, it's that you are saying to all the people who see your pictures and then come trash talk to me that you know about them. And that will probably stop some of them from doing it again. And anyone who doesn't get the message gets blocked."

"Good. Now, let go watch some TV and cuddle." Nodding grabbing my plate of food, following William to the couch before curling into his side.

As William pulled up the next episode of a show we were binging, I thought of something. "You never have told me what 'min skat' means."

"It means 'my treasure'. And it reminds me how lucky I am every day to have you in my life."

#hockey fan fiction #hockey fanfic #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey fan fic #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey oneshot #hockey one shot #hockey oneshots #hockey one shots #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl fan fiction #nhl fan fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl one shot #nhl one shots #nhl oneshot #nhl oneshots #william nylander fan fiction #william nylander fanfic #william nylander fanfiction #william nylander fic #william nylander fan fic #william nylander imagine #william nylander imagines #william nylander oneshot

[apollo-writes-random-shit]

omg!! please please please do gasoline with race!!

Ahhhhhh! Sorry, this took so long! I wrote this like three or four times and I’m still not 100% happy with it lol. I did some research and it turns out the song is actually about Halsey’s struggles with mental health while being in the spotlight so I used that but don’t worry! This has a happy ending!

Song requests

AO3 copy

Are you insane like me?

He was pretty sure every kid at some point had wanted to be famous and here he was. Gone from causal dancing to acting and singing, all thanks to a small show that had been secretly visited by a talent scout. Multiple doors had opened for the young teen but with the fame came extreme expectations and with those expectations came extreme stress. 

Everything seemed to be dictated by his manager, one William Snyder. As grateful as he was for the jobs Snyder had landed him, he was driving Race insane. Every single little thing was scrutinised, from the things he ate and drank, to even his hairstyle when he went out. His smile had to be perfect every time to 'keep up his image' but it got tired having to look perfect all the time. 

Don't get him wrong, he adored his fans but at the same time, he wished he could go out without being stopped every five minutes for photos and videos, being made to repeat lines constantly. 

Been in pain like me?

Every day left him exhausted, even if he had only been shopping. Everything had to be perfect to make sure he avoided any bad publicity. He was still young so why ruin his career so early? 

Sighing, Race stared at his schedule. Countless practises for both dances and an upcoming audition filled every day, leaving him with almost no time for himself. He had only a few hours after evening practice and he knew he'd spend most of that sleeping. 

He could already feel the pain that would come with everything. Today's practise had already wiped him out, body flowing with pain. After being scouted, Race had discovered muscles he didn't know existed thanks to the pain that came with the job. 

However, he could deal with the physical pain but the mental pain? Not so much. He knew the others were getting worried about him but it didn't stop him from following all of Snyder's strict rules...Even if it caused him to throw up some mornings and night before practice. 

Bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me? Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?

Well, he followed most of the rules but Race liked to have fun, even if that meant drinking some nights, whether it be cheap beer or expensive champagne, he'd take it, only to pour whatever remained down the drain the next morning in shame before scrubbing his teeth to get rid of any hint of the alcohol that was forbidden.

That's what he was currently doing, letting the taste of his toothpaste take over the taste of morning breath and expensive champagne. Rising the toothbrush, he chuckled softly as he licked his lips, savouring the artifical taste of bubblegum. Despite the event happening over a week ago, Race could still see Jack's face when he walked out of the bathroom carrying it. He knew he wasn't a kid but that wouldn't stop him from buying the 'kiddie' toothpaste, no matter how 'disappointed' it made his older brother. 

Would you use your water bill to dry the stain like me?

Walking out to the kitchen, he noticed the damp paper resting on the table, causing him to shake his head. He had spilt a little of his drink on the table and mopped it up with the closest thing which appeared to be the bill he opened last night. 

Not that it mattered, he could still read it which meant he'd be able to know who to pay. That and he had read it last night and despite getting drunk, his sharp mind still remembered every word. 

He would concern himself with that later, instead focusing on making his breakfast smoothie before rushing out that door, hoodie pulled over his head to hide his face in the short run down his driveway. Sure, no one was around but that didn't mean he wasn't paranoid about being spotted. He already had to deal with stalkers and so far, none of them had found his house and he'd like to keep it that way thank you very much. 

Softly singing along to the radio, he grinned to himself as set off, heading towards the dance studio. Sure, Snyder was going to be there to see his progress which meant he'd have to work harder. At least Romeo and Tommy always gave him good criticism instead of berating him when they taught him a new move. Even in Tommy Boy would jokingly kick his feet into the right position while telling him to keep up. Out of everyone he had been taught by, the two were his favourite. Tommy would teach him the dances while Romeo took care of the acting and like almost everyone, they thought Race should get rid of the man. 

Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?

Shaking the thought out of his head, he pulled into the car park, flipping his hood back up before speedwalking inside. 

It was only when he got inside the studio that he relaxed, something that always happened. Sure, most of the time sometimes he'd walk out and there would be a small crowd outside the building which he found awkward considering he was still all sweaty and smelly. There was only so much a towel and deodorant could do until he had access to a shower. Sure, the dance studio had showers but honestly, Race didn't like them. He also felt awkward showering in a building where his fans might find a way to sneak in. He might love his body but he didn't feel like having nudes of him spread across the internet where anyone could access it.

"Damn, look who finally showed up."

"I'm late by one minute Tommy Boy. Traffic was horrible." 

"Whatever, warm-up you dork." The Australian chuckled, scrolling through the playlist, trying to decide which routine to have his friend start with. Subtly, he clenched his jaw as another presence filled the room. He really didn't like when Snyder was in the studio but unfortunately, he had no say. He knew the man liked to see that his client was actually making progress. Sure, some of his dancers would have their manager show up occasionally but Snyder came twice a month to take notes on Race before taking the teen to the side to lecture him, almost like he was trying to undermine everything he had been taught. He really hated him in all honestly but hey. He couldn't fire him, only Race could and considering the number of gigs Snyder had landed him, he doubted he'd be let go anytime soon. 

Race shook out his limbs after stretching, pretending that he didn't sense the tension between his manager and instructor. If he ignored them, he could actually focus properly. He had learnt during the first few sessions that Snyder had sat in, that if he let the tension distract him, he'd slip up and get a long lecture about how he had to 'focus more if he wanted to nail a role'. So, he just pretended to be alone, letting the music flow through him. As cheesy as it sounded, Race liked to pretend that he was one with the sound. The noise was his dance partner, the leader of the pair. He followed its gentle coaxing willingly, allowing it to control every step.

It gave him a high that nothing could replicate, no matter how hard he had tried in the past. Dancing gave him something that he couldn't explain. Something that couldn't be described. He was addicted to it.

He allowed himself to come to a stop, his partner leaving him with a gentle caress and smile. Race grinned at himself in the mirror, slowly coming down from his high, allowing himself to relax, calmly walking over to his duffle bag, yanking his towel out before wiping his face off. As much as he loved dancing, he didn't like the sweat that came with it. 

Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?

Tommy's compliments were cut off by the clearing of someone's throat and the two turned to look at Snyder who was lounging in a chair in the corner. "Your turns were sloppy Higgins. You fell out of a few turns, your feet weren't pointed during one of your jumps and your arms looked strange. You need to work on those."

"With all due respect sir, I believe he did quite well."

"Clearly you weren't paying close enough attention to your student Manchester. We all know he can do better. If he nails this video, even more doors will open for him and surely you want that for him."

"I do but."

"Then you'll allow me to critique my client. I want what's best for him after all." 

Race sighed. "I'll work harder. It's okay." Sure, he knew he was overworked as it was, but he could always try harder. There was always room for improvement after all.

Tommy just shook his head, knowing what Snyder wanted was a fat paycheck. Race wanted to please everyone and that included Snyder, even if the man pushed him past the point of breaking. Once discovering that Race had an empty basement, Snyder had pushed him into turning it into a mini studio for extra practice and would often visit to watch and offer more 'corrections' when really, he spent most of the time on his phone, only sparing glances up at the mirrors, pushing the teen to almost the point of collapse before lecturing him at the way he had become so wobbly. He didn't care that the boy was tearing himself apart in hopes of earning the praise he had been craving all his life. Race lived to entertain people and so far, he had failed to fully impress Snyder. 

Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me?

Buttons sighed as he listened to the faint sound of music, vibrating through the wooden floor. He was there to do final adjustments to Race's costume for the video tomorrow and wasn't surprised that he'd be found in the makeshift studio. Whispers floated around not only Race's friends but some of Buttons' friends in the clothing industry. Race seemed ready to fall apart and it was a waste of talent. He was being pushed too far and from Buttons had learnt, had recently been pushed into modelling as well, taking up even more of his time, leaving him more exhausted than normal. 

Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me? And all the people say...

Shaking his head, Buttons headed down steps, rapping on the door to inform the other of his presence, watching as he stumbled slightly. Race had been sucked into the whirlwind of fame, dragged into an uncaring industry, one deadset on farming out copies and copies, ones that would give them the cash they craved. 

It destroyed every member they took in, ruining their minds and bodies until they were dumped, left to eventually fade away, replaced with a newer shiny version. As famous as someone was, it was surprisingly hard to be remembered. Making something that everyone remembered for years to come might be somewhat easy, but having your name in everyone's mind for years? That was much harder. 

Fame was a dream for a lot of people but that dream would turn into a nightmare quickly. 

You can't wake up, this is not a dream, you're part of a machine, you are not a human being.

Buttons loved seeing his work in videos but looking at the way his crafts looked on Race's skinny shaking body made him feel sick.

"Really. You need to take better care of yourself."

"Gotta look my best Buttons." Race just grinned, brushing off the concerns like normal.

"Tony seriously. Everyone's telling you the same thing. You need to eat more." The tailor shook his head, scanning the other's body to spot anything off with it. "You always look ready to collapse and you're shaking!"

"Buttons...I'm just following what's set out for me."

"Don't you think it's going a bit far?"

"Nah. It's fine. After all, it could be worse." Race just shrugged, holding his arms up when prompted. 

With your face all made up, living on a screen.

While talking to Buttons was always fun, Race was relieved to see him leave. Whenever he spoke to someone alone, they always told him to drop his manager. That he looked like he was five seconds away from being rushed to the nearest hospital. 

It didn't help that Snyder had become stricter later, criticizing his body and form more than normal, not caring that he was breaking his spirit. He was one of many, easily replaceable in the mind of the industry, something that Snyder liked to remind his client of constantly, claiming that it was 'in his best interest that he followed everything to the letter', forcing him to practise harder whenever he strayed from the harsh guidelines he set out.

Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline.

Requesting time off just brought another lecture. Hell, Race had to beg and fight to be allowed to take his birthday off and out of everything the man had done, that's what pissed Race's friends and family off the most. Jack had been close to demanding the man's address or phone number, only for Davey to stop him. It was no secret that Jack and Snyder had bad blood, disagreeing over what was best for the dancer/actor. Jack had known him all of his life while Snyder had only known him for roughly two years. 

Race hated the relationship between his manager and older brother but did his best to never let it trouble him. He desired to be on his A-game at all times after all and any form of tension would throw him off, only causing him to work harder than any other day. Snyder constantly likened him to every other young celebrity out there, reminding him all the time that he was replaceable, that he had to work harder if he wanted to keep up with the industry. That he was...Already stumbling behind. 

I think there's a flaw in my code.

The man acted like Race wasn't trying at all...That all the hours he put in meant nothing. That Race was acting like he 'didn't care about his job'. Like he was...Broken in some way and that strict behaviour just increased when he had handed him a slip of paper given to him by a professional. A diagnosis for depression, anxiety and bipolar disorder. He hadn't been super happy to find out that his client was mentally ill and that the paperwork even pointed out that he was overworked and just pushed him harder. 

Voices pushed at him from both sides. Drop him some said. He's working you too hard others chimed in. You need to work harder if you want to succeed in the industry kid one kept saying and for some reason, he kept listening to the single voice, despite the fact he knew he wasn't meant to. He needed to drop him and he would, after this music video and movie audition though.

Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.

Race sighed, shaking his head. Focus Higgins. In a month, you can find someone new. Darcy, Bill and Kath can find you a new one. He stretched, smiling at himself in a mirror. He'd be okay, he could last a month. 

He pretended Snyder's not so subtle jabs at his diagnosis. The man hadn't been pleased when he found out about Race's ADHD, clearly 'trying' to hide the way he felt about the whole thing. That he didn't think Race was 'unstable'. That he was 'broken'.

Are you deranged like me? Are you strange like me? Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?

He growled in annoyance when he fell out of a turn again, glad he was alone. It wasn't his fault he was so stressed! He was being pulled at every end, each person claiming they just wanted the both for him. With his mental health 'issues' dumped on top of that, Race wanted to scream and tear his hair out. He hated this. Hated the worried looks from his friends and family. Hated the harsh tone from Snyder used when he was giving him 'constructive' criticism. 

He wasn't at fault here! He was just trying hard so why did it seem like everyone was trying to pull him to their side? Sure, what he was doing wasn't the healthiest but he had to work hard to keep up with the fast pace workforce. Sure, he could stand to gain a few pounds but he could always do that later. 

Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me? Pointing fingers 'cause you'll never take the blame like me?

"I'm just worried Race..."

"I know Jack. I know you hate Snyder, that he's an asshole, that you think he's ruining my life. But, without him, I wouldn't have gotten so many gigs."

"Tony, please. You need to drop him. You don't look healthy, you're never able to go out anymore, you're being worked to the bone." Jack frowned as he looked at his brother. "I get that you love your job but you need to take time for yourself as well."

"Look. I'm already planning to drop him after this audition...It's just a month Jack. Please. Give me that and I'll drop him."

"Promise? I'm sick of his bullshit Tony..."

"I promise."

And all the people say, you can't wake up, this is not a dream.

"Again." 

Race nodded, restarting the music before throwing himself into the dance again.

"You're distracted, Higgins."

"Sorry, sir. Just got a lot on my mind lately..." 

"You need to focus. If you don't you'll fall behind and fail. Restart."

You're part of a machine, you are not a human being. With your face all made up, living on a screen.

Race honestly wasn't sure if Snyder even knew what he was talking about when it came to his dancing but still, he took his words to heart, letting them crash through his weak walls again as he started the dance yet again, letting the music wrap itself around him, allowing it to bring him both a familiar rush and familiar comfort. 

The comfort that came with the music was his favourite kind of comfort. He never had to seak it out. Never had to send a text or make a call. All he had to do was press a button and it was there, ready to hug him and bring him a calm distraction from whatever was bothering him, sometimes wiping away any tears that would run down his cheeks, drawing a watery smile from him.

Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline.

"What the fuck do you mean you're firing me? I'm the one who got you this damn role! You would be a nobody without me Higgins and you know that!" 

Race looked at the man's angry face. "Leave my house, Snyder. We're done here. While I am thankful for the work you have done, I need to focus on what I feel is right for me and I believe what is right is us parting ways."

"You're making a big mistake Higgins. I can ruin your damn life! I got you that role and I can fucking take it away from you! You'll regret this! I'll fucking leak your damn address!" 

I think there's a flaw in my code.

"You can not ruin my life, Snyder. You even try and I'll make sure everyone knows what you've been doing. I'll let everyone know how hard you've pushed me. How you've forced me to dance right after throwing up. Believe me, Snyder. I can and will let them know. I've dealt with this for too long."

These voices won't leave me alone.

"You've let those people poison you! They know nothing!"

"Romeo and Tommy have been working in this industry for years. Longer than you have and I trust their judgement."

"I'll get their places shut down!"

"Keep talking Snyder...You're just digging yourself a bigger hole."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

Race smirked, holding up his phone. "I've looked up the laws. We have a one-party consent law here meaning I can record this conversation without your permission and that's what I have done. I recommend you leave now."

Snyder scoffed, storming out. "You'll regret this!"

"And you'll regret being so strict! Goodbye William~" 

Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.

#apollo's shitty writing #newsies #buttons newsies #buttons davenport #Snyder #Snyder the spider #Jack Kelly #Race Higgins #Racetrack Higgins #Tommy Boy #Romeo newsies #song fic #racetrackhigg

[robbyrobinson]

HSL: Rebirth of Sugar (Chapter III)

"Look alive, Asahi!" a voice shouted.

Bags were underneath Asahi's eyes. The young man had gone so long without proper sleep. Asahi closed his eyes momentarily almost not hearing what he was being told. He jolts awake o see a large object ricocheting in his direction. Thinking quickly, Asahi held out both of his hands and raised them in the air. The object immediately came to a halt. Asahi opened his eyes to see that it was a frozen tuna. Asahi sighs, presumably out of disappointment. He then placed it in a crate along with the other frozen tunas.

A chubby, burlap man with balding hair and a thick moustache walked up to the young man. "You're falling a bit shorter today, Asahi."

Ever since that incident, Asahi had been working at a fish market. It filled him with dread every day. The fish sometimes easily decayed and had rancid smells to them. Since the market was close to the docks, seagulls were regular "customers" oftentimes eating pieces of the fish and other seafood. It costed a good bit of Asahi's salary, but at the least he was able to make enough to provide for himself and Shio. Through hard work and their extended family chipping in, Asahi was able to acquire a home with his sister with the rent not being too challenging.

"I'm just not really finding enough time to sleep," Asahi lamented.

The fat man rubbed Asahi's shoulder. "I know that it's hard what with your mother being in prison and you being forced to live on your own with your baby sister."

Asahi nodded without saying anything to defend himself. He hated to admit it, but his boss was right: he needs to get his act together. Shio depended on him he thought to himself. He used that as a daily mantra to get him through the day. There was not anything that he would not do for his beloved baby sister, his "moon."

"But I need you to focus," his boss replied, "do you understand where I am implicating?"

"Yes, sir, I understand fully."

Asahi resumed his work and tentatively kept watch when a frozen fish was tossed in his direction. It was a typical 6-hour thankless duty, but Asahi was determined to persevere. After all, he had something special planned once he left the fish market.

Shio placed Mio in her bedroom to keep her occupied while she was orchestrating her scheme. Her room was not much to really write home about. It was a simplistic bed, a tannish one with matching pillowcases. The wallpaper was a dim yellow. Mio looked around the room somewhat desensitized.

"I know it is not the best," Shio admitted, "but with the budget we have, this was the most we could afford."

Mio skimmed the room a few more times. She turned to Shio with a warm smile. "I don't care if it's bad as long as you are there."

Shio's cheeks turned red. Those words. Those were the exact same words that she herself said to Satou all those years ago. It was eerie how much Mio reminded her of herself 7 years ago. Shio pat her head. "You just wait right here, and I will prepare a meal for the two of us."

As Shio was the one who did all the cooking for her and Asahi, she decided that for tonight, she would make curry. She gathered the ingredients for the curry and began to chop the vegetables. Her mind began to wander as she turned on an eye on the stove. Her heart was taking a nosedive. "I wonder if I prepared the curry in a way Satou used to if that would jolt her memories."

The two had so much catching up to do. Shio thought back to when prior to Satou's Aunt instigating the fire that destroyed the upper room of the apartment that they were going to travel the world together. She looked around the kitchen almost as if to sense if anyone was looking. With the coast clear, Shio knelt and pulled open one of the drawers underneath the counter. She sighed in relief: the "wedding" rings were still there. Shio kept hers close to her heart as it represented her "happy sugar life." Along with Satou's ribbon, the ring was the only salvageable part of Satou after she collided with the pavement when she jumped off with Shio. It may not fit Satou anymore now that she was reborn.

With the pot steaming, Shio's eyes darted to the clock. It was just about time for her older brother to return home after riding on the city bus. She had to act quickly. After the curry was made, Shio drew a small pack of tea and placed it into a teapot. Returning to the sink, Shio turned the knob and filled the teapot with cold water. She then placed the teapot on another eye on the stove she activated and waited for it to boil. Whilst waiting, Shio bent on the ground again and opened a cabinet. She wrapped her fingers around a cylinder bottle.

The tea and curry were ready. Shio prepared the table and placed the dishes on the table. She then poured some of the tea into two cups. On the far end of the table was where Asahi typically sat. She took the strange bottle and unscrewed the top. It had a grody smell to it. Tipping the bottle, she cautiously poured it into the cup. With nearly the entire bottle emptied, Shio quickly tossed it in the trash and tied the garbage bag.

"I hate to do this, but at least it should not be too life-threatening" Shio said to herself.

Asahi arrived at the front door smiling slightly. That day he had just received his check. He made more for the week, which was always a delight to hear. He placed the paycheck into his pocket and scrambled to get his keys to the front door. Before he could, the door opened.

"Shio?" Asahi said. "What is going on here?"

"I am just opening the door for my older brother," Shio answered.

"I know, but we hardly ever interact much ever since that whole scene with that pink-haired girl," he pointed out.

Shio's eye twitched slightly. She did understand to an extent that he did not understand her relationship with Satou, but to dismissively demean her as just a "pink-haired girl" enraged her. "Come in, Asahi, you must be exhausted."

Asahi removed his shoes and place them beside the front door. He could not help but notice that Shio was acting stranger than usual, but he could not put his finger on it. He sat down at his side of the table like Shio anticipated. "So, curry tonight?"

Shio smiled. "You are correct. I hope you like it."

Asahi put his hands together. "Thank you for the meal." With that, he started eating. Shio sat down at her end of the table and began eating. As expected, Asahi reached out to grab his cup.

"I spoke with mother today."

Shio raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you have?"

Asahi nodded. "She's saying that the wardens are treating her well. She said that she had no regrets."

Shio tapped her fingers on the table. She did not want to think about her mother any more than she had to. Asahi took the first sip of his tea while he was still conversing. "You know that she loves you, Shio?"

Shio forced a broken smile on her face. "I know, Asahi. I just wish I had fonder memories of her."

Asahi drank some more of the tea. "Strange taste."

Shio was about to say something in response, but Asahi suddenly stood up. "Oh my, Asahi, what is the matter?"

Asahi grabbed his stomach. His cheeks were swelling and turning green. He tried to cover his mouth with his hand, but thick, green vomit erupted from his mouth. He looked at Shio for assistance, only to see that Shio's blue eyes became paler. Asahi collapsed on the ground with more of the thick throw up ejecting from his mouth. His insides were on fire.

"S-Shio…"

Asahi collapsed with a thud. Shio walked over and knelt to him. She lightly tapped his wrist. "Good, that should leave him unconscious for a while."

Shio ran upstairs to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. She ran some water into the sink and rinsed her face off by taking handfuls of the water. Her heart was racing again, this time with some guilt sinking into her decision. She took a deep breath and excelled. "Oh, I am happy that you have come! My brother suddenly got sick and he fell unconscious. Please tell me that he will be okay!" She said this to herself a few more times until she mastered it. After repeating the line four times, she dialed 9-1-1.

The ambulance was called in a few minutes later. Asahi was very much still alive, but whatever he had ingested was making him projectile vomit. One of the medics went to relay what they had learned from the situation.

"Ms. Kobe, I assume?" he said.

"Yes," Shio answered, "please tell me my brother will be okay!"

He slipped out a clipboard. "Says here that he ingested a half glass of Syrup of ipecac."

Shio's eyes widened. "Oh no…that sounds terrible!"

The medic tilted his head. "Do you know how it got into his system? It has been discontinued for a reason."

"No officer, I have no idea how he got a hold of it." She bowed her head. "Forgive me for my incompetence."

He nodded. He explained that Asahi would be staying overnight to get his stomach pumped. Give or take, he would likely be down for a good week or so out of fear of sending him home too quickly.

Tears began to form from her eye ducts. She shielded her face with her hands refusing to look at Asahi being wheeled out. Her breathing got quicker and pained. The medics looked at each other with sympathy. "You can visit him anytime of the week," the first medic said.

The door slammed shut as Asahi was loaded in the back of the ambulance truck. Shio's sobbing quickly ceased. She slid her hands off her face, a Cheshire grin was spread at the tips of her mouth.

#happy sugar life #hsl #happy sugar life anime #shio kobe #asahi #koube #kobe #asahi kobe #fanfiction

[occasionalmagicandcurses]

its been about 10 years

But I’m back. I did therapy for a year and honestly all it got me was agitated. I remember the days of yore when I would sit on my tumblr home page, refreshing constantly and making new friends through whatever current horrible experience I could put to words in my life at the time. Whether it was the milso shit I was on (he was a cheater, and I was just a girlfriend), or the love for pokemon or anime, I always made a friend. I’m still friends with so many of them to this day. I’d skip whatever homework I had to do and meticulously pick at the code for my theme, calling to the days even further back of myspace and (dare I say it...) xanga. I learned about my internet etiquette through here. I paid way too much attention to the rules and regulations, even dipping my toes in some internet drama. I was an early witness to the birth of “cancel culture.” It was here that I developed my dreams and material aspirations for the future.

And 10 years has flown by. I’ve got two degrees, a staggering amount of debt, a few more earth shattering relationships, and 1 cross country move to show for it.

They say that no matter where you go, you are there. Whoever they are, they’re right. And it is draining to have to carry myself around everywhere. I can never seem to be completely upright. My anxiety says “gnaw on your fingers until they bleed” or “buy one more pair of shoes” or “shake your leg until even your dog looks at you funny” in an attempt to mitigate some of the pressure in my jaw. My depression follows up with the gambit of “you have no self control” or “no one will want you” or “just hold off on eating, it’s not going to do anything for you.”

I turned 30 years old 3 weeks. Feels the same as 29, except now 40 is 10 years around the corner, instead of 11. None the less terrifying or grim. I have an awful spending problem, undoubtedly an overcorrection from my poverty-stricken childhood. Ever seen cheese that doesn’t melt? I learned how to count from the monopoly money-esque appearance of food stamps. My mom would make it a game. I found it fun until we started having to leave baskets of food at the register because something was wrong. 

Trauma, its delicious, I swear. We bounced from home to home, changing schools by the semester and allowing my brain to continue to develop on its fucked up axis. I struggled to make friends and struggled even harder to want to try. I knew it would all blow up anyway. I told the most elaborate lies to hide my home life. I’d say my grandmother was a doctor, and I’d hide that I couldn’t afford breakfast at school by saying I was trying to lose weight, or not have a full stomach for band practice later in the day. 

I got on the overcompensation train pretty early. I finally got tired of my mom’s repetitive failures and walked out of the door at 17. I never lived with my mom again. I never want to be like her. To be 53 and living paycheck to paycheck with two kids I never wanted and still can’t parent correctly? Count me out. 

I burned through college and graduate school. I have a career I am pretty kickass at. I love what I do. 

I decided to change directions (and time zones) about 3 months ago. When I say I was bored, I was b o r e d. Professionally, I felt stuck. I had a job I was good at, but didn’t want to move up in. It was lacking the spark that made me love my field to begin with. I was living in a city I’d been in for the past 20 years. I was a year past the breakup from a relationship that literally and mentally broke me in two. Absolutely devastated me. I sometimes cry for that life on occasion. It was pure misery and happiness that I don’t think I’ll ever experience again. I still feel I’m not worthy of one or the other. There’s always a price. Both, or it isn’t real. Comparison (and infidelity) were the thieves there. My unbridled anger too.

I packed up my car and my dogs and took the mom that told me she would have had a great military career if it weren’t for me and drove halfway across the country. I flew her back home a week later, and not a minute sooner. Being in close quarters with her always stews a rage that turns me into not the daughter that’s pushed for 25 years for her to be a mom, but the daughter that hates the mother she never had. I drove the entire trip and never really could quantify why I wanted her to come, except to say it might have been a latch ditch effort of the little girl that wanted a parent. I could have done it by myself, and I probably should have. 

Getting away has been amazing. I haven’t worked in almost a month and this was the break I didn’t know I needed. I saved up some, but obviously not enough, and now I get to pay the piper in a few weeks. I’m doing stupid things like riding my tax refund and the bonus for the job that I over performed at for 3 years to pull me through. I already got another job but good lord the background check has been sucking the life out of me. I am not a murderer, but I guess they need to figure that out for themselves. I’m slightly nervous for this job. My family and friends think I’m working now, but I am enjoying doing whatever the fuck I want. I blew off the job I got that motivated me to come out here because of the lack of money and transparency. 

Then I made the absolute mistake of swiping on tinder. I’m not sure what I get out of doing it, aside from fleeting attention from guys who like to talk about their sex drive, but I did it anyway. I’m not ready for a relationship, and I know it. So I’m forcing it with this guy who works too much and looks 10 years older than he actually is because of it. He smells nice though. I sold him to my gf’s as “he’s great!” and he is. Just not for me. I’ve only had sex with him once because I’m honestly not all that attracted to him. His fingers are chubby, but he’s not fat. I don’t like how he touches me, and I wish he was more dominant. Not in a “smack me around” type of way, but a “hey I wanna do this thing and I’m gonna show you and not really leave it to discussion” kinda way. He could make a great friend, so I’m probably going to go ahead and nip that sooner rather than later.

I think I want attention, but I don’t. I honestly just want to mind my business and start the process of fixing all of my fucking problems. And actually finish. 

#30something #life #help #thoughts #broke #failure #starting #fresh start #new start #thirty years old #thirty #aging #time #california #texas #success #fail #new #trying again #depression #anxiety

[soybeantree]

revenant

pairing: grimreaper!do kyungsoo x cemeteryworker!(reader) genre/warning: eventual fluff  word count: 2k+ description:  the surplus of spoopy ghost dramas as of late brought this little gem around. totally normal for a paranormal story in january, right?  a/n: january installment of our ‘trying to write a kyungsoo story for every month that he is gone’ series. hana promises that there will be a part 2 because b if there ain’t imma flip. she loves the angsty cliff-hangers. i HATE them. - em

Your mother always said the benefits to living in a rich city were innumerable. That’s a bit strong of an adjective, but you can agree that there are many benefits. You have access to great shops and great food, top rated schools, and the city is beautiful. Every building, street, and sign look like they were plucked from some children’s book. The city officials take great pride in the city’s appearance. Too much pride though, which is why you’re waking up at 9:30 in the evening for your 10:00 shift at the cemetery. The cemetery is one of the city’s top tourist attractions. The above ground mausoleums, the grand tombstones dating back centuries, they draw in countless visitors each day. As such, the city officials expend great effort and money to maintain the grounds and keep the stone gleaming. However, since appearance is everything, the cemetery’s caretakers, aka you, your father, and your grandmother before him, must only work at night. After all, what tourist wants to see a sweaty, mud-begrimed worker pushing a cart around the cemetery?

Despite the ridiculousness of the arrangement, you enjoy working at night. Grabbing a beanie, you pull it over your ears as you head out. A thin fog is your only companion as you walk the short distance to the cemetery’s back entrance. The lack of tourist makes your work easier and more bearable. If you had to do double duty as caretaker and tour guide, many tourists would find a new home in a mausoleum. Another benefit is the hefty paycheck. The extra money though is due less to working at night and more to the fact that the cemetery is haunted. Heading towards your tool shed, which is cleverly disguised as a mausoleum, you pass several spirits. The newer ones acknowledge you with a nod while the older ones wander by lost to themselves. During your school days, your classmates gave you a wide berth. They held the ignorant opinion that spirits followed you to school. However at that point, they would have had to follow your dad home then attached themselves to you then follow you to school. None of which made any sense. Ghosts rarely travel far from their resting place. Explaining that to your schoolmates though was a waste of breath, so you stopped. The caretaker position became yours by default. You went away for a few years after college, but real world jobs are too boring. When you came back, the city council all but kissed your feet. The slew of caretakers who came in after your father retired had lasted only days at a time. The cemetery was a mess. The city council was at its wits end. You could have asked for anything. In the end, you settled for the fat paycheck and complete autonomy. Pulling out your cart, you begin your work. The fog slips through the cemetery obscuring the paths and adding to the whole eerie haunted vibe. Your feet know the pathways, and you hum to yourself as you walk. On today’s “to do” list, you have polishing the mausoleums by the eastern entrance. Some city council dweeb had complained that they looked weathered and dingy. You wish he had said it to your face rather than hide behind an email, but he was probably too chicken-livered to step foot within the cemetery. “Good evening, caretaker.” The singsong voice grates against your ears. You stop in front of the first marble facade and pull a rag and polish out of your cart. “What has fouled your mood? Receive another rejection from a suitor?” “I’d have to have a suitor to be rejected by one.” You grunt as you crouch down to start on the base of the first column. “True.” She giggles. The ghost hovers beside you, the hem of her ethereal gown brushing against your cheek. You sneeze. “What has soured your mood then?” Sighing, you stand and move to the top of the column. With a huff, she floats to your other side and folds her hands in front of her. She glances over her shoulder then back at you. “The cemetery is awful quiet tonight.” You skirt around her as you move onto the next column. Beside the few specters you passed when you arrived, you have yet to meet another of the cemetery’s occupants since beginning your work. “Have you no curiosity for the cemetery’s silence?” “I assume it’s because Mrs. King started on about her grandkids again.” “Indeed not.” She simpers, peering at you from the columns other side. You divert your attention to your task, scrubbing an obstinate stain. Clearing her throat, she continues. “Mr. Long in plot 112 has gone malevolent.” Your hand stills. In addition to the high pay and freedom from human interaction, there is a third benefit to working nights at the cemetery. Arguably the best benefit, and one of the main reasons you returned. Of all the days to roll out of bed and throw on clothes, it had to be today. Yesterday, you had showered and worn decent clothing, not the stained cargo pants and t-shirt which you pulled from your laundry basket. You groan and toss your rag into the cart, fighting the urge to kick one of the wheels. Your work boots would easily protect your toes, but you’d rather not give your companion the satisfaction of seeing how deeply her news affects you. She smiles smugly at you. “I’m sure a reaper will take care of Mr. Long. You might want to make yourself scarce. I’d hate for the reaper to see you and take you with Mr. Long.” “Surely, you know which reaper has come.” She floats through the column to hover beside you. Often during your life, you have wished for the ability to slap a ghost. Today, the wish twitches your fingers, but you keep your hand by your side. Only reapers can touch ghosts. Of course, you know which reaper has come. The cemetery has a single reaper assigned to maintain order. He was in charge even before your grandmother’s time. His name is or was Kyungsoo. All your grandmother and father would say about him was that he was the cemetery’s Reaper, and it was best to leave him to work in peace. Which would be easy, if you hadn’t developed a crush on him when you were four. “Mr. Long is the first malevolent spirit since you started, correct? Which would mean this is the first time Reaper Kyungsoo has made his appearance?” Her smile widens. “How many years have passed since last you saw him? Surely, you wish to renew your acquaintance.” “Surely, you wish to mind your own damn business.” You hiss. Of all the damn ghosts to witness the first time you met Kyungsoo, it would have to be this bitch. She chuckles, and you shake your head. Stupid. However, now there’s no point in pretending you don’t care. Leaving the cart and your responsibilities behind, you race across the cemetery to plot 112.

-

A malevolent spirit is frightening to anyone who hasn’t grown up around ghosts. The normally human-appearing spirit transforms into a towering demon. There’s a lot of ear-splitting screeching and gusts of wind which dig into the ground spraying rocks and dirt into the air, and an overwhelming sense of dread fills your chest and tugs at fear. However, growing up around ghosts, you learn when you should be afraid and when the malevolent spirit is just a pissy, windbag. Mr. Long is the later. Sitting on the tombstone of a spirit who long ago passed into the beyond, you watch the skirmish between spirit and reaper. Kyungsoo rushes forward scythe in hand. His black robes billow out behind him as he leaps forward. The scythe slices through Mr. Long as he passes him. A final screech peters to a whimper as Mr. Long returns to himself. Kyungsoo lands, spinning the moment his feet touch ground. He faces his opponent, his scythe posed behind him, ready for the next swing. Mr. Long stares forlornly at the reaper then at the mess he has made of his burial site. He whimpers again. The sound tugs at your heart strings. While you are the one who will have to put the area to rights, you sympathize for the spirit. He’s new to the cemetery, two years in the grave. You didn’t know him when he was alive, and you haven’t spent much time around him since he arrived. However, you know his grave marker cost less than two hundred and that he never has flowers placed on it. He stands beside it during the day, staring at the cemetery’s entrance. Kyungsoo relaxes his stance. His scythe disappears as he steps forward. From this distance, you fail to hear the exchange between reaper and spirit, but you can see the relief in Mr. Long’s shoulders. A reaper’s duty is to ferry the dead to their final resting place and protect the living from the dead. Kyungsoo will allow Mr. Long to remain in the world of the living and will not resort to drastic measures to protect the living. You’ve heard of reapers who decimate a malevolent spirit without a thought. Kyungsoo has never been like that. Even that first time you met him, he brought the spirit back to sanity. Back then, you had thought he was some kind of superhero. He appeared from nowhere and rescued you and the monster. The conversation ends, and Mr. Long disappears to wherever ghost go. You asked both you grandmother and father where ghosts go when they disappear from the living world. Both blustered without giving a satisfactory explanation. You assume they go rest in their graves. “You’ve returned.” The voice is soft like the footsteps which brought it near you. Glancing up, you find Kyungsoo standing a few feet from you. Your heart quickens and rises through your throat, blocking all words. So you nod. “I am happy to know your family will continue to oversee the cemetery. The caretakers after your father had no place here.” Your head bobs along as you force your heart back into your chest. “I guess not everyone is cut out to work with the dead.” He smiles, and your heart rises once again. You cough and look away. “Your father is well?” You nod, keeping your eyes on the rows of tombstones. “He retired to a beach somewhere.” In a whisper, you ask, “My grandmother?” “She passed beyond when she died. I saw her off well.” As you had thought, your grandmother wasn’t one to linger in the living world. She had done her work and been satisfied with her life. “I look forward to working with you.” His words nearly force your heart from your body. You choke on it, falling off your perch from the violence of your hacking. “Are you unwell?” He crouches before you ensuring you meet his gaze. “Fine.” You croak as you push yourself off the ground and put distance between you two. “I also look forward to working with you. Not that I hope you come a lot because malevolent spirits are bad, but also when you do come I won’t be mad.” Your words peter out, and you wish you could have choked again. Kyungsoo maintains the distance you set, his lips curving down into a pout as you rambled. “Thank you for helping Mr. Long. I’ll take extra care to check on him.” You swerve the conversation. His lips turn up into a soft smile. He glances behind him at plot 112. “He is a good man and will find peace if he allows himself.” When his attention returns to you, you can feel the charge in his eyes. A caretaker’s job is more than maintaining the cemetery’s appearance. The truest duty is held within the title. You must take care of the spirits and help them on their way. You nod. “Thank you.” He bows his head. “I must be going.” In the next instant, the space before you is empty. You remain staring at that space, a forgotten smile on your lips. “I am beginning to understand your lack of suitors.” Your smile sours. You really wish you could slap a ghost.

#hmw #kyungsoo #do kyungsoo #kyungsoo drabble #kyungsoo fanfiction #exo #exo drabble #exo fanfiction #kyungsoo au #do drabble #do fanfiction #kyungsoo collection

[rainming7561-blog]

8 Toxic Habits You Should Get Rid of to Improve Your Quality of Life

Avoiding them might change your whole life.

When I first tapped into personal development, I tried to build as many positive habits as possible.

I set up a morning routine, started to meditate, went to the gym frequently, and read at least one book per week.

Yet, a year later, I didn’t feel happier, more fulfilled, or improved.

And I didn’t understand why my life didn’t change even though I built all these new, powerful routines.

Change your habits and you’ll change your life is one of the bold promises of the self-help world and I didn’t know why it didn’t work for me.

But it’s true: Your routines can change your life.

Yet what I overlooked is that those good routines aren’t worth much if you don’t let go of your negative habits first.

Quite often, it’s our little, harmful routines that break our success, not the lack of good ones.

The following habits are certainly not easy to give up, but once you let go of them, you won’t only feel relieved but also much more energized in your daily life.

You make a mountain out of a molehill.

Did you ever make a great decision because you spent lots of time thinking about it?

Me neither.

The truth is that we never make good choices by overthinking.

According to Malcolm Gladwell, we make all our choices in the blink of an eye. Yet, we are not aware of it and want to have a logical reason. That’s why we overcomplicate most of our decisions.

In his book Blink, Gladwell explains how all our decisions are based on our intuition.

We don’t make the right decisions by thinking logically, we just try to find arguments for decisions we already made based on our gut feeling.

But life is so much easier and fun if you go with the flow, allow yourself to make mistakes, and correct your course on the way.

Spending time to think about problems or decisions might sound smart, but it isn’t.

Most people are overthinking everyday situations and end up spending hours and hours without producing results.

How to change it:

Small steps can lead to enormous changes: Why not try to choose your next meal in a restaurant quicker than you’d usually do?

Why not be the one who suggests where to go and what to do when hanging out with your friends instead of saying, “I don’t know.” or “I don’t care.”?

Try to take control of the small things in your life. Give your best to make the unimportant decisions as quickly as possible.

You are obsessed with other peoples’ opinions.

How often do you get discouraged because of other people’s opinions?

The odds are high that your answer is too often.

The bad news is that you’ll never be able to satisfy everybody. The good news, however, is that it doesn’t matter.

You have one life and you don’t need to waste it by living up to the standards of others.

How to change it:

You can’t be everybody’s darling, but you can indeed be your own hero and save yourself.

Stop muting your inner voice to satisfy others and start sharing your light with the world.

You are living for the weekend.

So many people waste their lives looking forward to the weekend.

This is a particularly dangerous trap for people who aren’t happy in their jobs and spend the whole week surviving instead of living.

But the truth is that weekends are just a small part of your life. You can’t be unhappy from Monday to Friday and expect the weekend to compensate for these negative feelings.

A week is a great period to set small, realistic goals and track your progress. And if you like what you do, each Monday is a new opportunity to create an amazing week.

How to change it:

Nobody hates Mondays. You either hate your job, your coworkers, your boss, or something else related to Monday, but certainly not the day itself.

If you live a life you love, you’ll appreciate each day as an opportunity to share your gift with the world.

Stop blaming Monday and identify the part of your life you really hate. That’s the only way to eliminate it and create a week and life you truly enjoy.

You are fearing change.

You don’t have to be cheerful about everything that happens in life. Yet, your fear shouldn’t hold you back.

We all know that things could be way worse at any point in our lives.

Even the fact that you are reading this article right now indicates that you are among the wealthier, more privileged people of the world.

Life is changing faster than ever before and we might be facing new challenges every single day. That’s why the most adaptable people will always win in the long run.

How to change it:

Stop being afraid is easier said than done, but it’s probably one of the most underrated pieces of advice.

Even if changes might be uncertain, there is almost always a positive aspect to them.

Most of us grow up being taught to play it safe, get a well-paid job, build security, and avoid changes. Yet, change can also mean improvement.

Every challenge in your life will help you to improve and become a better version of yourself. Be courageous, keep your eyes on the positive aspects, and try new things. And if it still gets too scary, ask yourself the following question:

What’s the worst thing that can happen?

Quite often, you’ll realize that the worst thing isn’t that bad.

You are trying to please everyone.

How often do you find yourself doing something just to make someone else happy?

Sure, sometimes, it’s great and necessary to do something just for the sake of making someone happy, but most of the time, the problem is our inability to say no.

If you can’t say no to the wrong things, you won’t be able to say hell yeah to the projects, people, and opportunities that truly excite you.

How to stop it:

Be aware of your self-worth. Remind yourself of what you want and what you need to do for it. Saying yes to others often means saying no to yourself.

If you always try to please others, you’ll be ignoring your own desires.

The first step, however, is to know what you are actually aiming for. You need to be aware of your life purpose, your goals, and your priorities.

Once you know your priorities and the things you want to achieve, you will waste less time on the wishes of others.

You are living paycheck to paycheck.

Every single day, we’re being bombarded with thousands of sales pitches. Making purchases is simpler than ever before and great marketers know how to catch our attention, even if we don’t need anything.

Yet the harsh truth is that overspending will not only ruin you financially, but it’ll also harm other areas of your life.

You can’t increase the quality of your life if you always live paycheck to paycheck and are surrounded by stuff you don’t need.

How to change it:

Get used to saving your money before spending it and avoid the trap of wasting your entire paycheck on consumer goods.

Sooner or later, you might face unexpected emergencies. When these situations occur, you’ll be glad to have a safety net instead of waiting for your next payment.

You are living in the past.

The surest way to live a miserable life is by spending too much time worrying about the past.

If you want to be happy and fulfilled, you need to learn how to be present and enjoy the small joys of everyday situations.

Instead of thinking about your past mistakes or fearing the future, try to be fully present right now. Because now is to only time you can influence and change.

You can’t change anything about the past, and you can’t determine your future. But you can give your very best to enjoy every moment and live intentionally.

“Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment. “

— Buddha

How to change it:

Start focusing on the now. What can you do today to live your best life?

Set daily intentions, focus on your goals, and think of all the things you are grateful for.

Journaling, for example, is an excellent method to be more present and focus on the given moment. By writing down what you’re grateful for and what you feel at any given moment, you’ll learn to be more present and listen to your inner self.

You are talking yourself down.

Imagine having a friend who followed you 24/7, telling you things like:

“You’re too fat.”

“You’re ugly.”

“You can’t do that.”

“You aren’t worth it.”

Would you enjoy the company of that friend?

You probably wouldn’t.

Yet, too often, we are this friend ourselves. Most people are professionals in talking themselves down. But your relationship with yourself is the most important one.

You are the only person who’ll be with you forever.

So make sure to get on well with yourself and be your own cheerleader instead of your own critic.

“Watch your thoughts, they become your words; watch your words, they become your actions; watch your actions, they become your habits; watch your habits, they become your character; watch your character, it becomes your destiny.”

― Lao Tzu

How to stop it:

Focus on your strengths and achievements.

It’s easy to be confident and proud when you accomplish great things, but you need to be your own fan, even if you fail miserably.

Throughout your life, you will meet so many people who’ll try to discourage you or don’t respect your achievements.

But no matter what others say, you need to stay true to yourself.

Want to grow? Grab my free Personal Growth Toolkit with 42 effective & actionable tactics, resources & tools to elevate your life.

[anagentinwriting]

Subscribe - Part 7

Summary: (Modern AU) Peter was your college sweetheart until a certain event led to your break up. Seven years later another event brings you two back together, but this time a little girl is in the picture. Will listening to your podcasts be the reason you two get back together or be another reason to keep you apart?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Word Count: 2554

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, implied sexy times, pregnancy

Subscribe Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Peter was in his office staring at all the unanswered emails and the pile of demo CD’s Nat wanted him to listen to, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The only thing on his mind was you and how you were doing. It’s been a few days since you woke up and Gamora texted him updates. He acted like he didn’t care, but he did. He was happy you were getting released from the hospital today, which meant you were recovering. He’s been busy working, so he hated not being able to see Mer as much as he was before. 

Bucky laid on the couch listening to the same pile of demos Peter was supposed to listen to; instead, all he wanted to do was listen to your voice. The only way to do this was to listen to the next episode, #43. He slipped on his headphones and put his feet on the table as he leaned back in his chair, shutting his eyes. 

“Hello, listeners and welcome to this week’s episode of Everyday's a Monday. Today we’ll be talking about pregnancy, but more specifically how and when we found it. Sometimes this doesn’t happen in the best of circumstances, but sometimes it can be a miracle. But like some of us, we remember when we got pregnant, cough cough, YN. Isn’t that right? Listeners, she is shaking her head, yes, but the whiteboard she is holding says no. That’s right she has a whiteboard now! I am going to get her to talk like I always do because she loves me, her job, and our listeners. OH MY GOD, she’s flipping me off,” Wanda gasped. “We’ll be hearing her story later, but for now, for today’s guest, she is our very intimidating, took a great deal of convincing to get her on the air, Virginia Potts aka Mrs. Stark, but everyone calls her Pepper. Welcome Pepper, how has your week been going?”

“It’s been great. We have some new products about to launch this month, and we hope everyone will check them out. We are even going to be giving away ten of each product to those who enter our contest, which will launch this week on our website.”

“Hear that free stuff, who doesn’t love free stuff,” Wanda laughed. “Let’s get right into it. I know you have a little girl at home that you love dearly, but how would you describe the moment you found out you were pregnant? Were you and Mr. Stark trying, did it just happen, or was it a crazy romantic evening?”

“Well...I won’t give much away, but it all started......

...then the next thing I knew there was an adorable baby girl in Tony’s arms, and it brought a smile to my face. Because in that moment, I knew Tony would be the best father in the world to her, and he has been. I couldn’t have asked for a better husband or a better father to our little Morgan than Tony.” 

“Aww, that's so sweet.”

“Don’t tell him that because it will go to his head,” Pepper stated, making both of them laugh. “Enough about me now. Let’s hear YN’s story.”

“And with that, she is walking through the door. Wow, Pepper you barely had to say anything to get her in here. I always have to convince her.”

“Well, I write her paychecks,” Pepper added.

“That you do Pepper,” you laughed. “So what should I share with you on this episode?”

“What events led up to your pregnancy?”

“It happened spring break of my senior year in college. Star-lord surprised me with a planned trip the night before we were leaving. He didn’t tell me where we were going because he wanted it to be a surprise...” 

Peter knew this exact trip you were talking about. He spent all senior year working double-time to pay for the five days, four-nights adventure in Colorado Springs. He planned everything from the activities to where they would eat each night. He opted to stay in an Airbnb instead of a hotel because it was cheaper, and they would have more privacy. He thought everything would go according to plan, but it didn’t end up that way. 

“He planned our whole trip to Colorado Springs. I will admit, he did a great job with it, too. We did all kinds of things I never would've thought about doing like zip-lining, taking a helicopter flight above the mountains, and rock climbing. I was horrible at it, but Star-lord liked it because he got to stare at my ass the whole time,” you chuckled, forcing a laugh out of Wanda and Pepper. 

Peter smiled to himself because you weren’t wrong. He did enjoy the view.

“Did he take you anywhere romantic?” Pepper asked.

“We went stargazing.”

“Oh my god, it’s like your first not a date date,” Wanda chimed in.

“Yes, but it was better. Staring up at those stars was different because they felt so much closer and shined so much brighter. I have looked up at many stars, but those in Colorado Springs were something special. It was a beautiful night, and one of the best trips I have ever gone on. I don’t know if it was the fresh air or if it was being there with Star-lord because he made it so much funner. I know that’s not a word, but that’s what it felt like.“

“Awww, are you blushing?”

“No, why would you ask that Wanda? YN doesn’t blush.”

“You two done…...okay good.” You cleared your throat. “Each night, we stayed up late talking. We talked about everything. Hopes, dreams, promises, and our life together after graduation. They were deep conversations. I mean we had conversations like this before, but nothing as deep as the nights we had there.” 

You were right. Those late-night conversations were deep. He remembered talking about marriage and where they would move to start their lives together.  They talked about having children and what they would name them. It was hard to remember the exact names, but he was almost positive Meredith was one of them. You and him made many promises on this trip, but he did end up breaking one of them; he broke your heart. 

“Anyways, the last day he set up a whole spa treatment for me, it was six hours of treatments, but it was a night I will never forget.”

“You had amazing sex didn’t you?”

“Why would you go right there, Wanda? There is way more to the story before the sex happened.”

“Wow, talk about eager beavers,” you sighed. “I got back to the house, and laying on the bed was a gorgeous V-neck black dress and black heels with red on the bottom. Next to the dress was a note saying, ‘Get ready. I’ll be there at 7 sharp. Love, Star-lord.””

Peter could picture you in that black dress to this day. He wished he could take all the credit for finding it, but it was all Gamora. She did an amazing job finding the perfect dress to show off all your favorite features. Peter still didn’t know why you wanted to be with him at the time because you were gorgeous, and he was a sandwich away from being fat. 

“Once I got ready, there was a knock on the door, and once I opened it I saw Peter dressed to the nines. He was wearing a gray suit with a black tie. I mean he looked…”

“She is drooling, listeners.” 

“Shut up, Wanda. I’m not drooling, but he looked very….”

“Hot? Cute? Fuckable? Handsome? Sorry listeners I have no filter,” Wanda confessed.

“Any of those words would work. He picked me up and took me downtown to one of the nicest restaurants I have ever been to. It had a view of the mountains, and all the waitresses and waiters wore suits. It was classy and after dessert…”

“He got more dessert?”

“Wow...this episode might as well be rated R at this point.” You paused.  “So, we were walking down the street holding hands, and we walked past this wedding reception going on. There was a big sign out front saying ‘Wilson’s Reception’. We both looked inside and got the same idea. We went in and started dancing. I’m not one to dance in public, but he made me want to do it. I swear we danced for what felt like forever, but it was only a couple hours.”

“Did you two get caught?” Pepper questioned.

“Yes, but the groom felt so honored we crashed his wedding that he went around introducing us as the wedding crashers. They were the nicest, most welcoming people I've ever met. We even ended up filling out the guest book and bought them a present from the gift shop across the street. It was a blast! We even ended up exchanging numbers with them. About a month later, we got a thank you card, and a few pictures of us with them and one I didn’t even know they took of me and Star-lord slow dancing together.” 

Peter heard the smile in your voice. He couldn’t believe he had that much of an effect on you that evening because you had the same effect on him. He remembered this night, especially because he realized this was Meredith's third favorite photo of them. His back was to the camera showing off his white collared shirt holding you close with your arm wrapped around his shoulder. It looked like he was whispering something to you, but he couldn’t remember. You wore a soft carefree expression on your face and a small smile showing how breathtaking you could be without even trying. This was his favorite picture of the two of you together because he could see how much in love with you he was. 

“Wow, now that sounds like a fun night,” Pepper commented.

“It was, but our legs were killing us the next day. We were lucky all we had to do was sit on the plane,” you explained. “When we got back to the cabin that night, Star-Lord opened the door, and something felt different in the air. The room was lit with candles, there were flower petals on the floor, and soft music was playing over the surround sound. It was something you would see out of a movie.”

“I am such a hopeless romantic for that shit. There are literal butterflies in my stomach, and I wasn’t even there,” Wanda admitted.

“I didn’t know what was going on, so I turned to him, and he gave me a cheeky smile. You know that smile where he did something wrong, and he is nervous about me finding out, but instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me close. I put my hand over his heart and….” You took a deep breath and let it out as if you were thinking about what to say. “Not giving away any details you can use your imagination on this one listener. One thing led to another, and about a month later I found out I was pregnant.”

“Do you think he had other plans that night besides putting a baby in you?”

“I guess I’ll never know,” you confessed in a soft voice.

“Another story about the dreamy Star-Lord and I still can’t calm down the racing heart in my chest. As always, thank you to Pepper for spending the last hour with us, and to our amazing fans for listening. Don’t forget to subscribe, comment, and follow us on our new Instagram page. From all of us here at Everyday's a Monday have a great week!”

Peter did have other plans, and it didn’t involve putting a baby in you. There was a reason it looked like something out of a movie because he wanted everything to be perfect. He found the best flower petals, your favorite smelling candles, the most calming music, but he never got the words out. He chickened out. He tried to find another chance to do it, but then he got the call. The call that changed his life. The call from Wakanda Records telling him he got the internship, which meant he’d be moving and living in Los Angeles for two years. He thought it was a new beginning for both of them, but everything spiraled out of control. 

“What the fuck, Peter, you’re proposing?” Nat shouted at him as soon as she pulled the headphones off his head. He sat up, rubbing his eyes as they adjusted to the lights. Nat must've scared Bucky too because he was up and stretching his arms over his head looking confused by the situation, too.

“Don’t be mad, but what am I proposing?” He asked, squinting his eyes.

“You’re going to ask Bereet to marry you. I didn’t even know you two were that serious.”

“WHAT? NO! We are not serious at all! Where would you get such a crazy idea?”

“She found a ring in your apartment,” Nat interjected, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“Ring? What ring? I never bought a ring!” Peter admitted, staring hard at his hands on his desk. 

“Well she found one, and I am paraphrasing her when she texted me ‘it was cute but small’. And she wants me to investigate in secret to when you are going to do it.”

“Some secret spy you are,” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Where did she say she found it?” Bucky questioned in a gruff voice.

“Um--” she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her messages “--in your music collection. It was in with your cassette tapes.”

Peter furrowed his brows before his eyes widened, and he looked at Bucky who seemed to have the same realization. “Bucky, you never got rid of it? I thought you told me you got rid of the ring. You told me you did.”

“I never said I did. I put it in with your music in case something changed down the road and it has.”

“Wait, what's going on here?” Nat looked between the two men.

Peter shook his head as he stared at her. “Was the ring in the silver square box?”

“Yes,” Nat confirmed.

“That ring wasn't meant for her. It was meant for...” he sighed

“YN,” Bucky finished for him, and Peter nodded. 

“Wait, you knew about this and didn't tell me?”

“I'm sorry, but it wasn't my story to tell.”

“You wanted to marry this girl, yet you let her walk away from you. Where's the logic in that Peter? Are you an idiot?”

“I know. I screwed up.”

“Yes, you did. I don't even know YN, but from what Mer has told me; she is one helluva woman. And every time you talk about her your face brightens up like a kid on Christmas morning, even after all these years.” Peter nodded along, agreeing with everything she was saying. “You need to talk to her.”

“I know I do.”

“Sooner rather than later, Peter,” Nat stated, earning another nod from Peter. “Who knows you two might end up together again. Mer wants it to happen.”

“Really?”

“Yup, she says she's on a mission to parent trap you two,” Bucky added with a soft chuckle.

“She would say that...damn, I love that kid."

_____

AN: Talk about a fun spring break adventure. It seemed like they had their lives figured out, but why did they break up if they were so happy together? And do you think Meredith’s mission to parent trap them will be successful? Thanks for reading! 

#Star-Lord #star lord x reader #star lord au #peter quill #peter quill au #peter quill x reader #peter quill reader insert #peter quill image #Chris Pratt #GotG #Guardians of the Galaxy #marvel fanfic #Marvel AU #marvel #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 #Avengers

[prorevenge]

The puppet is now the puppeteer.

I'm a fairly new to the whole posting on Reddit thing and have just made this alternative account to share my story. Sorry for any weird formatting, obligatory first-time-poster-long-time-lurker warning.

Also, a TL;DR at the bottom since this is gonna be a long one.

​

The Context:

When I was four, my mother had just gotten with her new boyfriend. We'll call him B for Bastard. He seemed nice on the surface, he was an illegal immigrant that worked for a factory and lived in a ghetto apartment. But, just under his exterior was a cruel, evil monster that I knew was going to harm my mother and I in some way or another.

Soon after meeting B, my mother and him bought a house under my grandfather's name since they both had poor credit and wanted me in a good school system. We move in fast and get a little dog just before Christmas; we looked like a modern Hallmark family with the kid and the dog and the happy couple.

That is, until B's vibe changed.

He started to look at me in ways that made me uncomfortable. I wanted to tell my mom, but she was a firm believer in the "innocent until proven guilty" idea and I thought she wouldn't believe me. He started exposing himself around me, encouraged me to join him, even touched me in ways I couldn't understand and hated. I was 6.

When I was 8, we began learning what sexual abuse was in households, and I put the pieces together quickly. I still thought that my mother wouldn't believe me, though, and I grew numb to the habitual abuse.

When I was 9, mom got pregnant with my sister. I was nervous and cried every night knowing that she wouldn't be safe from this horrible, gnarly bastard that my mother called her boyfriend.

B refused to pick up extra hours at work when money got tight, so my mom picked up a second job whilst pregnant and he stayed home to watch me. Things only got worse. Then, the physical abuse and extreme mental stress on my mother started around the fourth month. We lost my sister on Christmas Eve, 2009, to a placenta abruption brought on by stress.

I'll never forget the sight of my mother in her dark hospital room. Sitting in her rocking chair. Empty. Lost. Numb.

B turned to me to let his frustrations out, both sexually and physically.

Mom was blissfully unaware as her daughter went into a downward spiral at the age of 11 and developed a phobia of boys even looking at her the wrong way. I made friends with all the weird kids at school, cut my hair, dressed in all black, started picking fights, got bullied for never speaking to anyone outside my tiny circle, and resented her and her precious B. She loved him despite all the abuse, or more so she was scared to leave him for fear of what he might do to her. If only she knew half the shit he did to her daughter.

In 2012, Mom became pregnant again. On October 22, 2012, my brother was born. From the videos I'd been introduced to by B, I knew my brother wasn't going to be safe, either. He swung both ways.

I became fiercely protective of my mother and brother. At the age of 12, I carried around heavy objects and hid them in my room in case he ever tried anything. Sadly, I was a 100 lbs. girl with the upper body strength of a toddler, and he was a fully grown "man" that could easily hurtle me across the states. He also had a zero tolerance policy with my brother for the sole fact that he was a boy.

My brother was born premature and would need the extra help to catch up. This didn't stop his father from beating him when he cried, yelling at him when he played with his toys, reprimanded him for using his left hand more than his right.

He was only 2.

And don't even get me started on when my brother played with the dog.

The dog, J, was starting to come to old age. She was crotchety and didn't like having her hair, ears, or tail pulled. Brother did this on accident one time, and this led to him getting the beating of a lifetime that left him almost mentally retarded, had it persisted. Ironic, too, because B didn't even like the dog. At this point, he was just looking for excuses to control and beat us whenever he could.

Behind the scenes, he also manipulated and threatened my mother. He had control of the bank accounts, health insurance, social security info, all sorts of papers that he could do with what he pleased. Mom, Brother, and I were puppets on strings in this sick household.

Then there was that sunny summer day.

They had gotten into a fight over who even remembers now, and I hear my door slam and lock. "I'm taking this kid with me back to Portugal, and you can't do anything about it, you stupid bitch." Oh, no. Not on my watch. In hysterics, I called the police and alerted them that my mom's now-husband was trying to kidnap my brother, said he was going to bring him back to Portugal and that we would never see him again. They came in an instant, and I jumped out the window to meet with them. My mother, grandmother, and brother had already been pulled from the house. Mom was still in hysterics, clutching her baby. I told the cops my side of things, despite my mother pleading for me to shut up and that everything was fine. Things clearly weren't fine, but when the police took B's testimony, he simply pleaded that he was just trying to take Brandon for a walk.

B was left off with a warning.

I couldn't take it anymore.

​

This is where the fun begins.

​

When I was 14, I had a breakdown in front of my mom and told her everything. And I mean, everything. She called him and told him what he told me. He came home immediately, and I could see the fire in her eyes. Sadly, he had more control over him than I thought, for she took his side by brute force and I was silenced. However, now I had the upper hand. I had used my voice to speak, and I could use it again. He became more complacent with me, but not towards my mother and brother. Nonetheless, I used this to my advantage.

With age, I learned how to channel the silver tongue that my birth dad had gifted me with. I told my mother as subtly as possible to watch her husband, for he could molest Brother the same way he did to me. Or even better, he could forget about his family entirely and run off with another woman. Anything went with B. She slowly fell under my word, and the traps laid themselves out without me even having to lift a finger.

​

When I was 17, B began a new habit of going to the gym.

In his work clothes.

I'm sure you could already see where this was going.

Mother swore to me that after my senior year she would be divorcing this bastardly, sorry excuse for a man. However, I influenced her to keep her eyes open and her peripheral vision even more open. This is how she found the odd charges on her bank statements to numerous bars and hotels for hundreds of dollars. She noticed one singular pattern in the paper bank statements that were sent to us every month (usually B would rip them up right in front of her and told her not to look at them, but this time she got her hands on a duplicate that had been sent to us on request). A hotel near where B worked, along with a bar that was located close to the hotel. He was too full of himself to take her to a hotel, even saying that he wouldn't want to waste a single week of his life in a cramped hotel room with his fat bitch of a wife.

Using the hotel's name, my mother looked it up and began her detective work. She called them one day whilst at work.

​

"Hi, is this (XXX) Hotel?"

-"Yes, how can I help you?"

"I just wanted to confirm my reservation, it's under '(B)'."

-"One moment, please! ... Alright, yes, you have reservations for the deluxe suite for June XX to June XXX. Anything else I can help you with?"

"Nothing at all, thank you!"

She was seething with pure, unadulterated rage. Turns out he was cheating on her with a husband and wife that he worked with.

She left work early to get me and Brother from our grandparents' house, and she told me everything in hushed tones so that Brother couldn't hear. I told her that I'd told her so, and that she did the right thing. That day, we packed up our shit and said good-bye to the haunted house that we'd lived in for so long. The perfectly manicured lawn and driveway, the white picket fence, and the beautiful shrubs were going to be a huge hit on the housing market.

He tried to hunt us down that day, but we hid out at a church that was far from the town that we had just resided in for 13 years of our lives. That summer, we lived with grandma and grandpa. That was the happiest and most free we'd all ever felt. Too bad J wasn't there to see it all, since we had been forced to put her down due to a severe heart murmur, but trucking her ashes around was enough for me.

That same year in October, we moved into a new house in the boondocks of my mother's old town and made it our own. B was left homeless, drinking himself to death because he had lost everything--his family, his wealth that poured in from my mother's significantly greater paycheck, the house, the luxury cars, the picture-perfect family that he kept on tight strings for far too long. He now resides with his second mistress, since none of his family or "friends" wanted to take his dog ass in. He lives in constant fear, too, because he knows what I did and he knows what he did. He knows that I can get him deported any day of the week, so he treads on egg shells and is as compliant with me as possible. I wish I could say the same with my mother, but I'm not afraid. I know where he lives, and since I've gotten back in contact with my father (he had been locked up for those 13 years due to evading child support and drug dealing), I've learned how to be the one with the leash. No more cowering in fear, thinking that one night he could go on a rampage and kill all of us. No more long nights of staying awake to make sure he didn't go into Brother's room to have his way with him. No more calling the police, manipulating, begging, and pleading with my mother to do the right thing. I have him on a short leash, and any day now I can turn out the real dogs on him: my own pent-up rage, and ICE.

​

Don't get me wrong, I actually quite hate my mother for more recent things she's been doing, however I'll give credit where it's due. I'm so proud of her for taking action after 13 years of being imprisoned by the man she was forced to call her husband.

​

TL;DR: Mom's ex husband controls myself, my mom, and my little brother for years. I gain some control, use it to convince my mom to look into his actions. She soon after leaves and divorces him, and she and I end up running his life back into the mud where it should've remained.

(source) story by (/u/CollegeAnon2022)

#prorevenge #by /u/CollegeAnon2022 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

[messinwitheddie]

Having just left my twenties, I spent some time reflecting on what I wish I could have told myself as a child/ teen/ early 20's

I know a lot if my followers are younger than me (I guess most people my age have real lives and give up on their fan hobbies XD)

I'm still trying to get my shit together. I don't expect anyone to take all this to heart, but if you're entering your twenties, still carrying baggage from childhood, maybe you can walk away with some good advice from me.

...

Don't try so hard to get attention.

Don't spend so much time wishing you were someone better, prettier, smarter, ect. Beauty does not mean better. Sometimes your heros are not what they seem.

You don't have to always listen to your parents/ teachers/ adult figures. You probably have better judgment than them, you're just inexperienced. ALWAYS think for yourself.

Your elders owe YOU respect in return if they want you to respect/obey them/ change their diapers one day. (Which you are NOT obligated to do. No one ASKS to he born. Your parents owe YOU ok?)

Learn as much as you can.

Stand up for yourself. There will be backlash, but you might actually respect yourself later.

Fuck Cops. Don't trust cops.

Fuck politicians. DO NOT trust politicians.

Do not trust white people. Do not feel sorry for white people (you all know what kind I'm talking about). Don't listen to or tolerate nazis or fascists in any way.

Research as much as you can and listen to others before forming a solid opinion about anything or anyone.

Be kind. People won't always be kind to you. Be kind anyways.

ALWAYS be kind to children and animals.

Good people die young. God probably will not reward you for your good deeds. Do the right thing anyways. If more people did without expecting a reward the world wouldn't be so fucked up.

Not EVERYTHING is your fault, but you do have to take responsibility for your own self improvement. Make an effort to change what's necessary. Accept yourself as best you can.

Be good to the friends that are good to you. Cut off toxic friendships sooner than later.

You are not a loser because you have no friends. Friends can be made at any time in life.

You are not a loser because no one asked you out. Dating is for adults in fucking college, not developing teens, fuck you TV.

You're a kid. Enjoy kid stuff.

Being overweight is frowned upon by society. People hate fat people. People are often awful. Society is corrupt and awful. Fuck people and their fat-loathing. Being overweight doesn't prevent you from doing ANYTHING unless you listen to the thinner people trying to shame you for existing. Losing weight won't solve all your health issues. Your doctor is an asshole.

Eat well and exercise to feel better ONLY.

Losing weight will not make you look like the people on magazines and movies. Losing weight will not make you instantly more valuable. People who would make fun of you for being fat will find other reasons to make fun of you after you lose the weight.

Nothing will make you "normal."

Having sex when you're not ready will not make you normal.

Trying hard drugs with your friends will not make you normal.

Getting married will not make you normal.

Quit that job you hate or you might be stuck in it a long time. Take sick days.

Don't strive to be employee of the month. Ignore everyone. Never kiss up to your boss. Show up and do your job. Your paycheck is your thank you, and it is the BEST thank you.

Don't worry about being normal or fitting in. You don't have to fit in, just take care of yourself.

Happiness is a fleeting emotion. Don't try to chase it, capture it and preserve it forever. Look for little ways to be happy every day.

You can make it one more week.

Try not to think about dying or wanting to die. Everyone dies. It's literally the only thing that makes everyone equal. You'll get to die too. Go live.

Don't be so afraid of everything.

People love you.

#mun #life lessons #love you guys

[romcommentary]

Love Actually

It’s been a few years since I’ve sat down and watched this, and with so many ‘Love Actually is actually problematic’ discussions going around lately, I decided to give it another watch with a “fresh set of eyes” to see if the current social climate would somehow diminish my enjoyment of Richard Curtis’s 2003 holiday rom-com.

It didn’t. Are there some issues with this movie? Of course there are. Natalie (Martine McCutcheon) is called chubby and comments are made about her butt and her thighs, although… Natalie is not fat. Not even close. The fat jokes simply made no sense and had no point other than to draw laughs. The majority of storylines focus on men getting their happy ever after (Mark is the exception, although he still gets an uplifting, favorable send off) while the two storylines centering around women (Emma Thompson’s Karen and Laura Linney’s Sarah) end in infidelity and heartbreak.

There is also a distinct lack of diversity and LGBT representation. I’m pretty sure the movie could have ditched the Creepy Colin Goes to America to Get Laid storyline and reinserted the deleted scenes featuring Frances de la Tour and Anne Reid as a lesbian couple dealing with terminal illness. Of course, had that happened we would have probably been talking about the 'Bury Your Gays’ trope that has plagued television and cinema, where the already sparse representation of the LGBT community gets killed off (most notably queer women).

So does Love Actually have problems? Yes, it does. But despite these issues, I was still able to love and appreciate Love Actually for what it is. A movie that shows us what love is 'all around us’, whether it’s romantic, platonic or unrequited. It’s complicated and messy. Awkward and charming. Heartbreaking and painful. Problematic!

There are some hits and misses in the movie. Some of the stories suffer from a lack of adequate screen time to develop the relationships, so to believe in some sudden, all-encompassing love is difficult. But some are a couple of well developed, emotionally nuanced plots that make the movie worth a watch. I’ve ranked my favorite Love Actually storylines from worst to best below:

- Colin’s desperate need to get laid - Decides he’s the god of sex stuck on the wrong continent so he goes to America to pick up hot women and succeeds. Meh. His accent isn’t cute enough to dismiss his obnoxious behavior.

- Juliet, Mark and Peter - 'Self-preservation’ is no excuse for being a jerk to someone you’re supposedly in love with, even if that someone is your best friend’s new wife. Also, don’t confess said love on Christmas Eve while your best friend watches television upstairs. It’s creepy.

- Sarah and Karl - Sarah feels like she can’t follow through on a relationship with a man at work whom she’s been in love with for a couple of years because of her mentally ill brother, who has come to depend on her, even though he lives in a facility. If Karl knew what was good for him, he would be willing to give a try anyway, despite the constant phone calls. Boo on Karl.

- David and Natalie - There is an instant spark between the Prime Minister and his new employee, Natalie. She curses a lot, which is cute. He’s Hugh Grant as the Prime Minister, also cute. He decides to change his stance on foreign policy with the President of the United States (a smarmy Billy Bob Thornton) when he catches the President hitting on Natalie. Then he “redistributes” Natalie because of his attraction to her. Also, there are the fat jokes. The saving grace to this story is when David goes door to door to find out where Natalie lives and ends up singing a carol for three adorable little girls with one of his security guards.

- Jamie and Aurelia - Jamie’s brother is having an affair with his girlfriend, so he goes to France for a while to write a crime novel. There he meets Aurelia, a Portuguese woman who cleans his villa and cannot speak English. Jamie can’t speak Portuguese, so they learn to communicate in other ways. This is a cute story and honestly, the only one I feel could have been its own movie. I wanted to see them get past the language barrier and cultural differences on their way to love. But we don’t get a lot of development here, so the proposal at the end, while adorable, is insanely unrealistic. But… Colin Firth, so I’m willing to let it go.

- Billy Mack and Joe - Billy Mack is by far the most entertaining part of Love Actually. An aging rock star who records a horrible Christmas song only to find it becoming a surprise hit thanks to his No F*cks Given attitude while promoting the single, Billy is soon back on top and invited to Elton John’s Christmas bash. Turns out he would rather spend the holiday with his manager than a bunch of scantily clad women. “You turned out to be the fucking love of my life.”

- Harry and Karen (and Mia) - Okay, yes we know Mia is a tart. They’re sure to overplay just how much of a tart she is, with her overt flirtations with Harry, asking him for a pretty present in exchange for 'everything’. She wears devil horns to the Christmas party and wears racy red lingerie while Karen (a devastatingly good Emma Thompson) laments that she feels like Pavarotti in her frumpier wardrobe. We get it. Mia bad. But as usual, Harry’s role in this extramarital flirtation/affair is sometimes lost in the Mia hate. As painful as this storyline is, it’s also one of the more believable ones. Harry and Karen have a home, and two kids and a relationship that feels comfortable, though not overly passionate. Harry’s attention is caught by his attractive assistant and he buys her a gold necklace while gifting his wife a CD she probably already owns. The brilliance of Love Actually is captured in only one scene, where Karen discovers Harry’s infidelity and stands alone in their bedroom while Joni Mitchell plays. She’s not allowed to lose control or release her heartbreak. She has to keep it together as not to spoil her family’s Christmas. Emma Thompson is truly the movie’s MVP.

- John and Judy - This story doesn’t get enough credit when people discuss Love Actually. We get to witness their cute, awkward courtship as they simulate fake sex as stand-ins on a porno. Perfectly normal and charming, this is by far one of the best stories in Love Actually. I wish they’d had more screentime.

- Daniel, Sam and Joanna - Heartfelt and pure, this was much more about Daniel and Sam’s relationship as stepfather and son after a tragic loss than it is about Sam’s crush on Joanna. This is one of the only storylines we get a true conclusion to, and is it a rom-com if there’s not an airport chase scene?

Love Actually is not in my yearly Christmas rotation, but I do consider it an above average holiday film and rom-com. It’s not perfect, but it’s a warm, feel-good movie with some wonderful performances, and the end montage of friends and family greeting each other at the airport will surely tug at your heartstrings.

Fun Facts:

Kris Marshall (Colin) allegedly returned his paycheck for the scene where the three American girls undress him. He said he had such a great time having three girls undress him for twenty-one takes, that he was willing to do it for free, and thus returned his check for that day.

The airport greeting footage at the beginning and end of the film is real. Richard Curtis had a team of cameramen film at Heathrow airport for a week, and whenever they saw something that would fit in they asked the people involved for permission to use the footage.

According to Richard Curtis they had to put Emma Thompson in a “fat suit” to make her appear heavier because she is actually a very thin woman.

Keira Knightley was only 17 when she filmed Love Actually. Thomas Brodie-Sangster (Sam) was 13.

Richard Curtis had been working on two separate scripts when he decided to merge them and create Love Actually. The two scripts were the Prime Minister’s story and Jamie’s trip to Frane where he meets Aurelia. 

Notable Song: Christmas Is All Around by Billy Mack

Rating: 💍💍💍.5

#love actually #richard curtis #2003 #hugh grant #keira knightley #andrew lincoln #emma Thompson #alan rickman #laura linney #rodrigo santoro #Thomas Brodie-Sangster #Liam Neeson #chiwetel ejiofor #martin freeman #Joanna page #rowan atkinson #bill nighy

[awaytotheuk]

Random Update!

I’ve gotten so shit at updates, y’all I am sorry.

I got a job! It’s retail, I work WAY more hours than I’m supposed to, I like the job itself just not how much I’m working, and my feet are killing me.

I know, I know, I know. “It’s a job! You’re making money! You should be happy!” Yeah I am. But my feet shouldn’t be suffering like this. Oh well right? Just keep pushing on?

Ah well, it is what it is. Just thankful I had today off and tomorrow off. I’ll be happy when I get my next paycheck.

There really isn’t anything new besides that. In two weeks I have to be fitted with a 24 hour blood pressure monitor because my BP is always high and they want to see why. I’m fat, that’s why but eh whatever they wanna do, I’m going to let them do it.

Rob is good, he’s working, I’m working, we are hardly ever home at the same time 👍🏻 but that’s life.

I miss my family so much. My mom is struggling to cope without me. She does have my uncle living with her though and he’s decided to clean up his house and move in with my mom for good so that will be good for the both of him. He’s been happier since he moved in for the winter and she won’t be alone which is a very good thing. I just miss seeing her every day. I wish I could have my husband and my mom but we can’t all get what we want.

So hardly any news is good news right? ❤️

#ldr #love #life #happiness #long distance relationship advice #advice #ldr community #long distance relationship #help #international long distance relationship #life updates #life in the UK

[gutterdreams]

The Chain Pt 1 [Billy Hargrove]

Disclaimer: READ THIS FIRST. Or don’t. But I wrote this based on something very personal to me and on my own life experience to some degree. I still can’t believe I’ve been as honest as I have been. So, yeah that’s a good disclaimer. It’s also good if you’re someone who likes to be aware of content that may trigger. Word Count: 3.8 k MASTERLIST

It had surprised you how the world around you kept moving while you laid on the dirty and cold living room floor stained with your own tears and vomit. It wasn’t as if you were all that sure what you were going to do anyway and Billy wasn’t exactly supportive either. He made his feelings very clear the moment he saw the strip was pink. Of course, that was two years ago and a lot had changed since you miscarried at eight weeks. You had been in the middle of a shift at work, rounding a client’s free edge when the warmth underneath your skirt, between your jeans came as a striking surprise. While petite, the red stain was violent as it moved through your blue underwear. Even though you knew what was happening long before the cramps began to grope at your hips, you didn’t move. You finished the manicure, you asked your client when she wanted to re-book, and told her to have a great trip to Boca. It wasn’t until the nurse asked for your partner’s contact information and you said ‘Billy’ that what had happened clicked. The car ride home was silent. Billy opted not to turn on the radio for once and just drove home to the sound of traffic outside, his tires against the rain soaked pavement, droplets greeting the windshield, and your occasional sigh that sounded heavy enough to shift the Earth. 

He glanced at your legs hidden underneath a pair of his navy sweatpants. The nurse had told him to bring you a change of clothes and that was what he managed to find after staring helplessly at the unfolded laundry in the hamper on the bed you two shared. He grabbed one of your tank tops from your top drawer as well, but you stayed in the same black Lycra top you had worn to the salon. He didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t said anything to him since he arrived at the hospital to see you in a paper thin white white gown, your legs dangling over the edge, and your face directed to the chipped pink polish on your toes. He just ran a a cold dry hand down the back of your head and kissed the part in your hair. “We can do whatever you want tonight.” Billy said softer than you had ever heard him speak before, soft enough that you looked away from the parking lot he was pulling into to make sure that it actually came from him. He drove right into the spot that belonged to him and heard you sigh again. Each time, it felt like tight knuckles jabbing into his abdomen. He wished there was something he could do, but he knew there wasn’t. The best thing he could was let you pick the TV show you pretend to watch, the meal you pushed around your plates, and anything else. “It’s fine.” You lied so naturally that it sounded believable. You reached around to your side and unbuckled your seat belt and then picked up the canvas straps of the tote bag you always took with you on the bus to and from work. “You don’t have to pretend you’re not relieved.” With one leg heading out the door, just missing a puddle, you verbally shook him and then pushed yourself the rest of the way out of the car. It burned like cheap whiskey down his throat, like a bad hit from a dirty bong, like an open wound sliding against jagged pavement. Billy stayed completely still behind the wheel and watched you through his rear view, walking to the back door of the apartment building. His mouth was open and trying to release all the steam in his body that was collecting from an overload of emotions. No, he hadn’t wanted you to keep the baby, but not because he didn’t want to have children with you. He just wasn’t ready. It wasn’t even slightly on his mind. He had just started getting full time hours with the roofing company he was on with, your hours seemed to be dwindling at the salon, bills were almost always paid late, you shared a one bedroom apartment in Fremont, California, and you two had only just stopped fighting every day after a long span of barking down each others throats due to stress and jealousy. It just wasn’t the right time. Billy didn’t know if or when he would want children, he just knew that he didn’t want to have a baby right now. Suddenly, watching you walk away with the depressing burden you were carrying on your shoulders alone, he felt his stomach drop and his face prune inward. He pictured a little boy with curls like his, a chin like yours, and tiny fat feet and he cried. Billy sat alone in the car for forty five minutes and cried while you laid on the living room floor and sobbed hard enough to make yourself sick. While it took you days to actually acknowledge the rays sneaking between the pulled blinds of yours and Billy’s bedroom, every day the sun rose and people would get up, put their feet on the ground, and go about their lives. Since it was a slow time of year at the salon, you were able to take two days off to yourself without any annoyance from anyone. Billy, on the other hand, woke up to you crying into your pillowcase before his alarm went off, rubbed your back and rested against your shoulder before going to his job every morning. He would return in the evening and you would be up, in thrown on clothes that resembled an outfit, and have forced yourself to make dinner. It wasn’t as if Billy was useless, but since he was the one working all day, you felt a sense of obligation. You were too aware of how empty you were inside now and feelings of guilt seemed to fill the void at every opportunity. They didn’t need another reason to grow inside you. It wasn’t as if you had anything to do anyway. The apartment was clean enough, every television show had a pregnancy or family storyline, you weren’t showering, and music didn’t make you feel anything. Preparing dinner was safe even if you had no appetite. Now and again, you two would fight and the apartment would become an unorganized battle ground of Billy’s fists hitting the counter and your screaming tears lashing out at him, making him feel to blame for something that was your body’s decision, accusing him of being happy. You would stomp out into the hallway with him pulling on your sleeves to come back or he would sleep on the couch, but somewhere by the end of the next day, you two would apologize and vow to talk about it from now on instead of fight. The problem was that Billy never wanted to talk about it. It already hurt so much and talking about it only made it more raw for him. It was routine like this that brought you two through the year. Christmas came eight months after the miscarriage. You knew it would be hard. A family themed holiday was bound to irritate both you and your boyfriend especially when you had been due for early December. There was this person that you never met that you were missing so terribly and they were supposed to be there. Billy held your hand the entire car ride from the Indianapolis Airport to your parent’s house. He kept a hand on your back when you were in the living room making small talk with family, and he held your knee under the dinner table. The next morning, when you two hesitantly went to his father’s place in the morning, his hands kept themselves glued to your body again. “We should have just stayed home this year. You were right.” Looking down at your mitten clad hands as if they should have an answer in them, you told Billy in the car between houses, leaving him to just hunch into himself and wrap his hands tighter around the wheel. He was considering driving right past his former residence, take the long way to the airport and give you your present there. He knew it wasn’t what you really wanted, but he couldn’t bring that back if he tried so he settled for something that could you let be gift wrapped. They moved at the pace of a turtle stepping through peanut butter, but things did progress. Eventually, you two didn’t resemble the couple you once were in the slightest. The fighting had transformed into patient conversations when ready, usually taking place in the shower, and the heartache came less and less while also losing it’s strength that used to feel overwhelming. Two years had passed and you two were still together. Nobody was more surprised than you were even if Billy found that a little bit offensive. He had moved up quickly through the ladder of seniority at work. Money wasn’t nearly as tight and, all on his own, he was dropping hints about looking for a bigger place, maybe even a starter home. Since you had left your previous salon and started working in a spa at a high end hotel, you were also feeling a lot less stressed about the amount on your paychecks. Covered in scars, you two were finally feeling okay. It took the last pregnancy abruptly ending for Billy to realize that he did want children, but only if they were with you. He had never had any desire for marriage or a family before and he had a feeling that he wouldn’t want them if you two broke up, but right now, he was eager to do as he promised you so many times when you were crying under the blankets and start a family. “Let’s get out of here.” In your ear, Billy moaned as he approached you from behind. His thumbs came between the bar’s edge and your body, pressing into your hips so you could dip into his groin. He smelled so good, the side of his face leaning against yours. “It’s not even nine thirty.” You laughed against him and leaned your waist into the bar again, trying to earn the bartender’s attention. You two were out for a co-worker’s birthday, looking to blow off some steam after a long week. “Why do you want to go already?” Billy didn’t like a lot of the people you worked with, but he had a couple friend’s in their spouses and boyfriends. Besides, it was a night where the only activity was drinking. He was good at that. You had promised him that your limit would be two cranberry vodkas so that you could be the designated driver. “I want to…” He groaned and shoved his groin into your backside like a child. “You know…” Billy was never coy, but he flattened his hands onto your sides and checked his left to make sure that their was no eavesdropping ears near. “We have had sex every day this week.” Turning around, you put your back into the bar and poked at your horny boyfriend’s nose. “Are you complaining?” He asked with his eyebrows. “Besides, I’m not ovulating right now.” “Just in case.” Billy had decided the best way to get pregnant would be for you to get off the pill and for the two of you to have sex every single night. If it happened before when you were on the pill, he figured that it would be even easier this way.

You two had been trying for three months, since your birthday in July, and honestly, Billy was stunned that it hadn’t happened yet. Maybe, he was naive, but he just assumed that it would be easy as putting a store bought pizza in the oven. The first time your period came a week early, but for the last two months, you took a test and nothing happened. Your period always came along just a couple days later, making you both feel bummed about being out twenty bucks as you did feel disappointed that you still weren’t pregnant. It was beginning to cross Billy’s mind that he might be the problem. Perhaps, his little guys weren’t up to the challenge anymore. He didn’t like to think about it because it made him unreasonably angry with the world, but he was starting to wonder if he had gone sterile or if that was even possible. He didn’t even know if that was a thing, but he was procrastinating making a doctor’s appointment to find out. He never wanted to go to the doctor, not even when it was physically necessary. “I’m having a good time.” After noticing one of your favourite girls from work walk in, you squeezed Billy’s shoulder and said. “We said we were just going to let it happen, right?” He held your stare for a moment and let your lips come to his, tenderly nibbling on the bottom while your hands met loose behind his neck. “Yeah.” He finally agreed even if he wasn’t happy about it. “Let me get us some drinks…” You cooed while knocking your forehead to his, feeling more flirtatious with him than ever before. “And try not to think about being inside of me for a little while, okay?” He was just about to let out a breathy, needy sigh, but his face twisted into a frown as you turned around to return to vying for the bartender’s attention. “You’re evil.” He hissed behind you and gave your bum a small smack. ___ Grunting, Billy sat up from lying on his back, his chest pink, slippery, and panting. He wiped at his forehead beneath a curl and then reached for a tissue you from the Kleenex box on his night stand and used it to clean off his member, glistening and just beginning to lose his erection. You were in the bathroom just a few steps down the hall, going about your own post-sex routine. While you were still the only woman who drove him that mad, who he wanted to buried deep inside of, Billy did miss pulling out of you to paint your chest with his load. He was starting to long for spontaneous sex, kissing you in the kitchen and then forgetting all about the boiling water in the pot on the stove due to getting carried away. Even with his pounding libido, sex was becoming a chore. He crumpled the Kleenex into a ball and chucked it into the small garbage pail by the window. It just barely made it in from the plastic edge. He heard the floor creak and knew you had returned. Billy laid back down and admired your naked body as you bent down at the ground and swiped one of his dirty t shirts from the hamper. You sniffed at the material by the under arm stitching and then covered yourself with it. “Did you ask that girl you work with for the name of her realtor?” He asked as your knees dug into the mattress, you climbing into your side where the blankets were in a helpless tangle. It took a second for your memory to catch up to his question, but you sighed once you did and laid down on your side to face him with the pillow tucked comfortable between an arm and your face. “No, I forgot.” You watched him keep his expression clean to not show his disappointment. Billy had done a lot of work when it came to controlling his reactions. “I will tomorrow. She’s in tomorrow.” Slowly, Billy relaxed and reached into the drawer of his night stand to pull out a joint he had rolled nights ago and his lighter. He plugged his both with the end and flicked on his lighter with the same choreography he had perfected as a teenager. It always amused you. “Do you feel different?” He asked, voice muffled before inhaling deeply. “What do you mean?” “Last time…you had a hunch you were pregnant before you even missed your period. Do you feel like that?” Billy felt pretty useless. He wasn’t the one carrying a child. All he could do was close his eyes, cum, and cross his fingers. It was beyond his control and he hated that. 

Sadness didn’t take it’s time greeting you. It moved over your body like a thin sheet, hugging your limbs and then tightened your throat before filling your eyes with a heavier shade of their regular color. “I don’t want to talk about last time.” You told him with a weight choking your speech. Quickly, your hands gripped at the blankets by yours and Billy’s feet and you shook them out abrasively until they were untangled. “Okay.” Billy swallowed and took another hit while you draped him with the thick off-white comforter. He knew the pain from the miscarriage would never completely fade into nothing, but he had thought that by being in a better place now, you wouldn’t be so distant about it. There was a time when it was all you wanted to talk about, but back then, he was a brick wall. Last time was precious to you and all you could do was protect it. Anyone’s opinion was invalid and infringed on the morsel of solace you told yourself you had found. Last time, Billy had freaked out and cursed over and over into his hands. He left the apartment and did not returned until the next morning because he needed his gloves for work. Last time he told you that he thought you two should make an appointment at the clinic. While you weren’t sure what you wanted to do yourself, it stung sharply to have no support from your boyfriend. Last time, you miscarried and when you finally worked up the courage to tell friends, they told you that was probably for the best or that God works in mysterious ways. They offered no empathy or even silence to just listen to your story. Last time had been Hell and there were plenty of afternoons that you considered killing yourself. Last time was dark and you didn’t want to talk about it. “What do you think of the name Tyler?” Getting comfier in bed, Billy asked as he pressed his shoulder blades into the mattress and rested his head on his propped up pillow. “No, but I like that you’re thinking of names.” Smiling at him wistfully, you admitted. Sometimes, how eager and interested Billy was now hurt. You wished he could have been that way before, but there was no way to change the past. All you could do was be grateful that he had come around and grown. “I like it. It’s a name for a cool guy.” Billy chattered. Secretly, he wished he had a name like that, but instead he was William Hargrove. It made him feel like one of the boring old men behind the bank who never acknowledged him when he went to make a deposit. “Do you like it for a girl, too?” “I don’t know.” Reaching over, Billy tapped out the joint in his ashtray on the night stand. It was rare for him to not include you, but you assumed this was all a part of his baby prep. He had suggested you stop drinking as well, but you answered him by polishing off a bottle of Moscato to yourself that night. “I haven’t thought about names for girls.” He admitted with a shrug and then rolled over to be closer to you. His arm instinctively fell over your side and found the small of your back to bring you closer to him. “Girls exist.” Sleepily, you smiled at him while pressing your face deeper into your pillow. “I know they exist.” With your eyes shutting, you could hear his eye roll. “I like Natalie.” You admitting, your heart swelling as the conversation felt more real than ever before. “Or Rebecca.” “Not Rebecca.” Billy shook his head before taking his hand off your back and reaching forward. His chest leaned into your face as he stretched to shut off the lamp on your side of the bed. “I went to school with, like, three Rebecca’s and they were all bitches.” He shared and then cuddled up to you in the dark. “Natalie is pretty though.” He whispered and drew two fingers up and down the same few inches of your spine. His mind repeated the name and paired it with Hargrove. It sounded perfect to him. “Hey…” You found his other on the mattress and squeezed it tenderly. “I’m a little tired of baby talk.” It still wasn’t easy and you imagined it wouldn’t be until you were deeply pregnant, like I’m your second trimester. “I’m going to try to sleep.” You opened up your eyes in order to find him in the dark and give him a last kiss. Billy nodding, knowing that most conversations were harder for you than they were him. He supposed he was luckier that way. “Goodnight.” After kissing you, he murmured against your skin. His scent was all over it. Sometimes, it was hard to tell where one of you ended and the other began, the way you would tangle together through restless sleeping. You wiggled around and laid with your back to him, his fingers still moving over the same patch of skin. He laid with you for a little bit longer, wide awake and hoping that next month you two would have a successful pregnancy test. He turned onto his back and watched the ceiling, waiting for the pot to kick in and lull him to sleep. He decided to give it ten more minutes and then he would give up and watch TV until he fell asleep on the couch. Thankfully, he sunk into slumber in less than the allotted ten minutes.

@lovelydacre @stevesharrlngtons @4-a-m @kaliforniacoastalteens @daddyslittlemunster @ineedacureforme @stephaniecats @inspiredbynewt

@penguinlover15 @devintagekids @gemgemswift

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove au #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove strangee things #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove one shot #billy yargrove x you #billy hargrove angst #stranger things au #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery fic #billy hargrove fanfiction #dacre montgomery au #stranger things imagine

[deathspeaker]

I’m not allowed to breathe!

Allow me to scream into the void. Please keep scrolling if you aren’t interested in hearing about a stupid persons stupid problems...

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.

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Ok so my Dad is in the hospital, bronchitis evolved into pneumonia which turned out to be Bacterial in nature. He has severe COPD and keeps having panic attacks where he can’t catch his breath which makes him unable to catch his breath. Just a feedback loop of issues. So he’s been in the hospital for most of the last two weeks.

Then the axel boot of whatever on the car cracked. That was a 700$ fix. Also we live paycheck to paycheck. We are POOR.

Oh and then a power surge knocked out a portion of my house’s power. I haven’t told him about that. We need to replace the whole panel box thing which will cost at least 5k. Likely more as it needs to be a COMPLETE replacement, including the circuits. I may be able to replace at least 1 or 2 of the effected outlets but I strongly suspect that isn’t the problem. I need to open them up to find out, but the box still needs to be replaced. We had to lay a new line because the idiots before us thought you could just plug a microwave into a normal fucking outlet and it’s lucky our house didn’t burn down.

Poverty fucking SUCKS. I’m literally cutting down on how much food I eat to save money. Some days I eat one meal a day. Usually an Ensure. I’ve lost nearly 20 pounds, yeah I need to lose like 100 more but I’m not losing it because of a healthy lifestyle change!!! Not that people care. They just hear a fat person losing weight and go ‘GOOD’.

This is kinda the life I lead. We scrape by, I don’t experience happiness or relief, just having short moments where my life isn’t actively on fire. Just smoldering. I struggle with mental health issues and I can’t help but imagine how much easier they would be to deal with if I wasn’t constantly experiencing the terror of ending up on the street.

I wish I could work, but I’m too disabled to work. If I did find a job that worked with ALL my issues it would mean losing my healthcare which means losing my medication which means I’m too disabled to work again.

Please return to enjoying the memes and cute pictures.

#poverty #life sucks #holding it together for my dad and pets #longing for the sweet oblivion of death

[str-spangled-banner]

Runaway (Bucky X Reader)

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Summary: You are a photographer in a small town on the coast of Oregon and manage to run into a dog one morning with no owner in sight, a dog which leads you straight to Bucky Barnes front door.

Words: 2 256

Warnings: None

A/N: I’m have risen from my tomb.

She watched the clear water from the river run through the grooves in the sand before blending with the ocean, listening to its calming sound. She could hear the seagulls circling over the port settled in the bay further down the shoreline, scouting above the fishing boats which had just came in from their morning catch, but seagulls were far from the only birds that were awake. Sandpipers had ran along the water all morning and chirped lightly along with a few, shrieking, Herons, and the forest which spread out behind her back was filled with the sounds of Northern Flickers and woodpeckers.

If she looked up the river she could still see the beavers she had seen as she first came to the rocky beach that day — gathering twigs to their lodge by the southern fork of the river — and the polaroid in her pocket showed the Roosevelt elk's she had seen half an hour prior. Nature was bustling with life in every direction she turned, and she loved it. Sitting there in that moment, she couldn't understand how she had lived in the city for so long.

She was born in the city and lived her life there until just five years prior. It was after the office she worked at began to talk about firing people that she decided to leave whilst she could to it on her own terms. She had taken all the money she had and found a small house in the town of Greenridge Bay, the most remote and calm place she had ever seen or heard of with a total population of two thousand three hundred. There, she lived a peaceful life as a photographer for the local paper. She didn't get a fat paycheck every month and she didn't live five minutes away from the subway and ten five-star restaurants, but that was far from a bad thing.

As she sat on the gigantic, driftwood, tree that had resided on the beach for years — hoping she might catch sight of a few sea otters or some distant whales to snap a picture of — she heard heavy panting and the rapid approach of footsteps. She turned towards the sounds just in time to see huge, overjoyed dog, running up to her, wagging its tail wildly with its tongue dangling outside of its mouth.

"Hi there, big guy." She called to him, hesitantly looking at him before scanning up and down the shore, seeing no one. "Who did you run away from?"

The dog had one ear peaked with the other bending forward floppily at the middle. It's fur was a warm brown and fading to beige in the parts where the fur grew longer. It's eyes were the brightest gold she had ever seen on a dog, and she would have lied if she said it wasn't the cutest dog she had ever seen as well.

"You're a good dog, right?" She questioned, in which the dog responded by sitting down in front of her, tail still wagging. She then caught a glimpse of a red collar hiding in the longer fur around it's neck with a steel pendant in the front.

"Charlie?" She read off of the tag, causing the dog to tilt his head and inch forward, melting her heart on the spot. She looked up and down the shore again, but there was no one else on the beach, and as she looked up towards the trail leading down from the road, there was no one there either.

She flipped the tag around as she still held it, revealing a local address. She contemplated whether he could have ran all the way from that address to the beach just outside of town, but he seemed like a strong and adventurous dog, and she didn't doubt he could have.

"I think we should wait here in case your owner catches up to you, but if not, then I'm taking you home, okay?" She suggested, giving him a quick scratch behind his hanging ear.

Charlie sat down next to her, seeming to have no desire to leave her side whatsoever. As time passed, he proceeded to lay down in the sand and gaze out to the ocean where a flock of whales had gathered. Whilst Charlie remained there — as calm as ever — Y/N kept looking up and down the beach floor any sign of a possible owner. They waited for five minutes, and five minutes turned into ten, until they eventually had been sitting around for twenty minutes without any luck.

"Maybe we should go to your house?" She looked down at Charlie who turned to look back at her upon hearing her voice. "We might as well wait there, right?"

She added a bit of excitement to her voice, and Charlie was up on all fours in no time. As she rose from her seat on the driftwood, his tail was wagging again, and as she began heading back to the trail leading away from the beach, Charlie following her loyally. It was quite obvious that Charlie's owner had taken their good time training the big dog. He followed by Y/N's side as if he was on short leash, when in fact he had the possibility of running wherever he so wished at any given moment.

"You really are a good boy, huh?" She came to the conclusion, watching Charlie to her right as he held his head low to catch the scents along the trail.

It took them an hour to reach the area of the address mentioned on Charlie's tag, but he certainly didn't seem to have minded the long walk and — in all honesty — neither had Y/N. He had happily followed her the entire way and had been just as happy as when Y/N picked up a stick and began to throw it for him along the way, and when they took a quick stop at a gas station and Y/N bought him his very own hotdog.

"Alright, lets see here..." Y/N said as she looked at the map on her phone and at her surroundings, trying to find house number forty two. A few of the houses had no numbers on them that she could see, but soon she noticed she didn't need to run around and look at every house number down the long street. By her side, Charlie gave off small barks and whines with a wagging tail as he looked at a white house with ivy crawling across the façade, a tennis ball laying in the grass of the front lawn.

Y/N headed up to the gate in the fence that surrounded the lot, Charlie expertly sneaking off behind a bush just beside the gate where there was a missing plank, creating the perfect entrance for him, and also exit.

They walked up the few steps that led to the windows door together before Y/N knocked three times, Charlie sitting down beside her as they waited. She tried to listen to hear something from inside and peak through the big window centered in the door, but the screen door on the inside blocked her view and she couldn't hear anything, so she knocked again. Before lowering her hand she glimpsed at her watch to see it was only seven in the morning, leading her to believe that Charlie's owner could possibly be asleep.

Suddenly she could see the screen door open up only to reveal a man in only sweatpants on the other side, his hair messily falling out of a knot at the back of his head. He furrowed his brows and he caught sight of the stranger at his doorstep, but his tired expression softened upon seeing his dog next to her.

He opened the door and knelt down, Charlie jumping at his owner and desperately licking his cheek. "Oh hi buddy!" The man smiled warmly, wrapping his hands around his trusted companion.

"I found him on the beach of the northern fork about an hour and a half ago and saw your address. He seemed pretty hungry about half way so I really hope you don't mind that I bought him a hotdog." Y/N broke the sweet reunion as she felt she had to explain herself. The man seemed to realize he wasn't alone then and rose to his feet, taking a moment to actually look at who had shown up by his house with his dog so early on a Saturday morning.

His lips parted slightly, looking at Y/N who was looking down at Charlie with pure love in her eyes. Her camera was hanging from around her neck and her nose was rosy red from the cold, and the sun managed to shine on her at such a perfect angle that her luminous eyes seemed to glow. He couldn't help but think about what the odds of her turning up with Charlie and not some hardcore hiker or old lumberjack. He didn't believe in faith and destiny, but they sure made the situation make more sense.

"No not at all, thank you... I'm Bucky, by the way... Bucky Barnes." Bucky said, reaching his hand out towards her. Y/N looked up from Charlie, eyes accidentally looking over his well defined torso on their way to meet his eyes. She shook his hand, trying to ignore how good looking he was.

"Y/N  Y/L/N." She had the decency to reply back with, causing the corner of his mouth to twitch up in a slight smile.

"I'm going to connect the dots here with the camera around your neck and your last name being Y/L/N and guess that you're that photographer for the Daily Ridge, right?" He managed to figure out, remembering how impressed he was by a few pictures she had taken a few weeks prior down by the port that had earned her a whole page in the local paper. "I really like your work."

"Sorry, no autographs." She said humorously, causing them both to start chuckling.

"Have you lived here long? I don't recognize you, and I know I would recognize anyone with such a cute dog." Y/N's voice became goofy as she ruffled the fur on Charlie's head and gave him a quick scratch behind his ear.

"Moved here just little over a month ago. To get Charlie someplace more suitable for his free-spirit." Bucky joked, smiling to himself as he managed to get Y/N to chuckle once more. "I don't know how he made it all the way down to the beach. He tends to sleep in his dog house in the backyard and he never goes anywhere, but I guess something made him leave this morning."

Y/N looked up at Bucky just as he looked down at Charlie, stroking his ears back. She couldn't help but smile at the thought which came to her mind at that moment.

"Would you mind if I took a picture of you and Charlie?" She dared to ask. Bucky's eyes drifted back to hers, confused as to why she would want one.

"Only if we make it to the front page." Bucky continued with his lighthearted and witty tone as Y/N clearly seemed to like it.

"We'll see about that one." She smiled and took up her camera, motioning at Charlie which Bucky caught onto quickly, telling Charlie to sit at his side. Y/N walked down the steps for some distance, aiming the camera at the open door where Bucky stood shirtless with Charlie sitting stoically by his side and looking at Y/N. she snapped the picture after a short countdown, the polaroid slowly being printed out on the spot.

"Thanks." She smiled up at Bucky. "If you're not to busy, I wouldn't mind meeting Charlie again, under more organized circumstances, of course."

The corner of Bucky's mouth quirked up again. He was trying to wrap his head around the whole ordeal. Dating was not something he had done in modern time, and even though he didn't know Y/N, he knew he had never met someone like her. Every single part of her intrigued him, and he would be a fool to mess things up.

"Well, you know where to find me." He smiled and gestured around him to his house.

"I sure do, Bucky Barnes." Y/N put her hands in the pockets of her jacket and began to walk backwards to the gate. "I sure do."

She didn't allow herself to look back at Bucky. If she would have, she would have found him looking after her until she vanished behind the corner of his house, only to have him inch around the corner to keep looking at her. As she began to walk downhill and knew for sure that Bucky couldn't see her anymore, she dug out the polaroid from her pocket. She looked down at it, looking at Bucky's bright, ice, eyes and his brown hair that had once been in a bun at the back of his head but spread all over the place in the picture. She looked down at Charlie who sat beside him, the rays of sunlight lighting up his fluffy fur, the crawling ivy, and revealing a few dandelion seeds that flew in the air.

She couldn't remember the last time she had taken a picture so perfect, nor one that caused her stomach to flutter in excitement and her cheeks to hurt from smiling.

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