#I only post about it here so I can keep track of when I relapse please I swear I’m not attention seeking please don’t look at me

[awakeshedreams]

sugar and spice ( 1 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD

wordcount : 2.3K

a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.

yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.

life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.

so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.

do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.

anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.

1 2

Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.

At school they were complete strangers.

She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.

She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.

They couldn't have been any more different.

As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.

What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.

.

You were a girl with many dirty secrets.

For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.

Not because you needed money.

Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.

Not because you needed validation from people online either.

Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.

All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.

Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.

‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’

She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.

Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.

‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.

‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.

‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.

All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.

Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.

So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.

You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.

It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.

To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.

You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.

Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.

There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.

You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.

It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.

From then on it just sort of became a thing.

.

But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.

You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.

The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.

So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.

You were no prude.

You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.

Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.

But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.

Later on it became a lot more risqué.

.

It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.

She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.

Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.

You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.

Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.

You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.

This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.

Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.

Who were you to get in the way?

.

She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.

She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.

Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.

He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.

You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.

You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.

Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.

‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’

Ah. Fuck.

‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’

.

Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.

From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.

Only if no-one looked close enough.

Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.

The two adults were oblivious.

The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.

Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.

Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.

You went to the same school.

Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.

You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.

People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.

He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.

Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.

There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.

It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.

On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.

Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.

Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.

Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.

Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.

Bottom line was, he was bad news.

.

You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.

But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.

They were both their own people. Right ?

It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.

Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.

After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.

You stayed back to do take out the dishes.

Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.

‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’

‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’

'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’

‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’

Jungkook stood, almost robotically.

‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’

You left without another word.

That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.

You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.

The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.

Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.

Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.

It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.

Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.

He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.

Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.

Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

But you endured. For your mom’s sake.

.

Your alarm went off at exactly ten.

As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.

In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.

Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.

Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.

But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.

That day you were testing out a new toy.

.

Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.

You ignored them.

Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?

Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.

You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.

‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’

Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.

You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.

Instantly you stilled.

When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.

When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.

His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.

In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.

‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’

It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.

Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.

Well. Yeah.

You gulped.

You were royally fucked.

depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.

also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.

anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.

like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.

have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.

#bangtan #bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts smut #bts au #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts high school au #jungkook high school au

[sebastianshaw]

Munday post!  -  I really love how so many reader x Ajak fics are specifically Ajak x fem reader. I would be just fine being the only lady with a crush on her, but something tickles me about knowing she apparently just hit a chord for a LOT of lady-loving ladies. - My dad, to Peanut: What’s up, chubby? My dad, doing Peanut’s voice in reply : Fuck you buddy, I’ll bite you too!! - The chinchillas, like so many rodents before them, think they can run away from me by running in their wheel. The mice are the same way.  - Speaking of rodents, Sable was always a mega chill little mouse. Several times, I thought she was sick or there was something wrong with her, then I decided, when nothing happened, I guess this is just her personality. In retrospect, I might have been right the first time, given that the vet said what happened might have been a neurological issue.  Mental health stuff under cut, trigger warning for mention of self-harming as well as exercise/dieting albeit in a healthy context

- So, even though I’m feeling much better, I am going to talk to my therapist this week, and we’re going to start speaking more regularly again. The reason for this is that the night I found Sable, I relapsed on cutting myself, something I haven’t done in like 10 years and never thought I’d do again. My dad is actually considering not letting me keep anymore rodents here (I live at home because mental issues, so he does have this right) because of it. He loves my animals and he knows they’re good for me to have, but he’s worried that now every time one dies I’ll hurt myself. Which, I’m not going to, there was more than one factor here, but I understand his concern. And to be honest? I do think I’m gonna have a break after my current batch. Except the chinnies, of course, who I hope to have for years to come.  - I also plan/hope to get my diet and exercise back on track. Both very much went to shit when my mood did, which is of course a vicious cycle since shitty food will make you feel worse and exercising will make you feel better, but when I feel bad I can’t exercise and I eat garbage. Vicious cycle.

#out of shirt #munday #mun monday

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Cloakroom

Photo by Vin Romero

Cloakroom are a trio from Indiana who have been making music somewhere in the regions of shoegaze, stoner rock, metal, and even-post hardcore since 2012. Dissolution Wave, their third LP and second on Relapse Records, is a concept album about a future where space miners have to write songs good enough to keep human civilization going, and it rips. Ian Mathers covered the record for Dusted and praised its “mastery of and dexterity with [the band’s] looming, frazzled sound” and said it was “the trio in all-killer-no-filler mode.” Here, Cloakroom’s impressively bearded bassist Bobby Markos lists ten records with personal connections.

Ten Records Tied to Significant Points in My Life

One of my earliest memories in life is accompanying my father as he went shopping for 45s at a local record store. He had a little handwritten list with song titles he was looking for, many of them B-sides and lesser-known cuts from his youth. Once he had a stack, we took them home and he used our home stereo system to dub the singles to cassette tapes, thus exposing me to the art of mixtapes at an early age. When our family would take long road trips to Florida or West Virginia, those tapes were our soundtracks, and before I knew arithmetic, I was learning the ins and outs of Herb Alpert, the Sandpipers, Spanky & Our Gang and other classics from the 1960s.

As a result of this practice, not only have I always had a taste in music beyond my age, but I learned to associate songs with moments. Music and nostalgia go hand-in-hand for me and listening to certain albums can be a transportive experience, taking me back to previous chapters of my life. The following are ten records that have strong links to my past (in alphabetical order):

The Beatles — Rubber Soul

Growing up, I heard a lot of Beatles tracks on the radio, as my father only listened to classic rock stations in the car, but for some reason the only physical Beatles recording we had in the house was a CD copy of Rubber Soul. When I was in high school, I started listening to it frequently, and it was here that I figured out that the band transcended the singles you would hear on the radio. And that they were so gifted in a studio setting. Not to mention, the last four tracks (“In My Life,” “Wait,” “If I Needed Someone” and “Run For Your Life”) are an incredible block of songwriting.

Boards of Canada — The Campfire Headphase

During my senior year of high school, Myspace was roaring and suddenly you could connect with people outside of your immediate city and friend circle. Common practice upon meeting someone new was sharing music, and I credit that time with turning me on to some artists I would have never come across on my own. One of those became my favorite band: Boards of Canada. Someone from Michigan sent me “Dayvan Cowboy”, claiming “this is their only good song.” I listened to that song on repeat for months before I finally dove into the rest of The Campfire Headphase, and the rest is history. Since that first listen, BoC has been my favorite artist and arguably the most influential music I’ve ever heard in my life. For being an instrumental album, it speaks louder than any other record I’ve ever heard, immediately transferring the listener to the 1960s California coast during a sunset drive. I listened to this record going to sleep every remaining night of high school, and much of my early touring years, because it became home.

Broadcast — The Noise Made By People

A dear friend of mine who was living in the Bay Area at the time sent me Broadcast’s Tender Buttons and I was immediately hooked. I was in undergrad and still living at home, using the family computer to house my digital music library. Something about Broadcast’s nostalgic sound took me back to my childhood. It was familiar but new and exciting all at once. I acquired their entire discography, and The Noise Made By People became my favorite. I love Trish Keenan’s lyrics and delivery; she was magnetic through sound waves. “Unchanging Window,” “Come On Let’s Go” and “Until Then” would be career songs for any artist, but the whole album is magnificent. I’ll always associate it with my early college years.

Earth — The Bees Made Honey in the Lion’s Skull

Once I had graduated high school and started my old band Native, I was spending more time up in Chicago with friends I’d met through playing shows. I hadn’t listened to much heavy music except my father’s Black Sabbath tapes, so bands like Earth, Sunn, Pelican, etc. were not on my radar. I knew of Dylan Carlson and Earth through his Nirvana connection but hadn’t spent much time with his discography. A friend played The Bees Made Honey in the Lion’s Skulland I had a transformative experience, It was like a chamber in my brain was suddenly unlocked. “Rise to Glory” really stuck with me. There was something in the sound that reminded me of my youth and I became obsessed. I realized that not only could music be slow, but drone music could be beautiful. I also learned the art of ambience. I began really diving into the Southern Lord catalog and found many of my favorite bands because of this. Listening to Earth also helped shape my approach to music thereafter.

José González — In Our Nature

The same person who turned me on to Boards of Canada also showed me Zero 7, and I began listening to them daily on my drives to college campus my freshman year. I really loved the tracks “Left Behind” and “Today,” and realized that José González was singing and playing guitar. I quickly dove into his solo albums and realized he had just released In Our Nature. He had an upcoming date in Chicago, so I bought tickets and went with a friend. It was the first time in my life that I had driven myself to a show that I wanted to see, and I’ll always remember that night. There was something so romantic about the lighting in the city streets. José was mesmerizing on stage, I felt starstruck just being in the room. His presence as an artist is so humble, but larger than life all at the same time.

My Bloody Valentine — MBV

I had gotten into Loveless and the rest of My Bloody Valentine’s discography over the years, so when MBV finally was going to see the light of day, I was part of the mass surge that crashed their website, trying to purchase a copy. That was my first experience with waiting in a “digital line”, constantly refreshing to see if my cart had gone through and eagerly punching in my credit card number, in fear that all the copies would be bought before I could secure one. I’ll never forget downloading the mp3s once I had my copy ordered, and that first listen. While it may be a controversial take, this is my favorite My Bloody Valentine record — probably because I have my own personal memories tied to its release.

Nick Drake — Pink Moon

I watched a lot of MTV and VH1 when I was in grade school, and I remember seeing a special about Nick Drake. My friend Zac and I downloaded the song “Black Eyed Dog” because it was featured on the program, and really because we had never heard anything like it before. It took a few years for Nick Drake’s music to truly click with me, but once it did, it was really eye opening. It taught me that music could be minimal but impactful, and that less is more. Pink Moon is such a beautiful record. And now that I’ve become a huge fan of his as an artist, I understand what this record meant to his life. It’s mind-blowing to think that someone in their early 20s wrote music of this caliber. I wish he was still around today. I would have loved to see what the future held for him.

Nirvana — Nevermind

If you’ve ever read interviews I’ve done in the past, I often credit Nirvana with inspiring me to pursue music and shaping me into the person I am today. When I finally had my own television in my room, I can remember seeing imagery of Kurt Cobain on MTV and VH1 while flipping through the channels. I eventually figured out he was the front man of Nirvana, and after hearing “Come As You Are” on the radio one day, I convinced my mom to buy me a cassette copy of Nevermind. I was in fourth grade at the time, and soon, they became the only band I listened to until I got into middle school. Nirvana was everything to me, an obsession of my own. I started air-guitaring during this time, and it was really the first time in my life that playing music had occurred to me as a life path. When my friend Zac first put a guitar in my hands a few years later, we were learning Nirvana songs. Nowadays in Cloakroom, when I approach writing bass lines, I still reference Krist Novoselic’s playing on Nevermind.

Q And Not U — Different Damage

In high school, I was really into punk music and had started a few garage punk bands. But a friend showed me Q And Not U and it really opened my eyes to the underground indie music scene. Soon, I started my first “real” band, and No Kill Beep Beep was a huge influence on our sound. Different Damage ended up being my favorite record from the band though, and I’ll always associate listening to that record with playing my first out-of-town shows. I think this band, and this record especially, was way ahead of its time.

Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks — Sparkle Hard

Over the years, I’ve attempted to write music on my own, outside of a band setting with little success. But a few years back I began making documentary films with my father and I wrote the scores myself. That exercise turned into a side project called Documa, and I’ve been writing music on my own ever since. During that time, Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks released Sparkle Hard and it really spoke to me. I love his guitar playing and approach to songwriting, and I love that he’s had such longevity as an artist. It really inspired me to work on my own guitar playing and take the music I write at home seriously.

#dusted magazine #listed #cloakroom #bobby markos #the beatles #boards of canada #broadcast #earth #josé gonzález #my bloody valentine #nick drake #nirvana #q and not u #stephen malkmus & the jicks

[celestialinception]

When All is Right with the World

Summary: When the ministry issues a call out for the proving of blood status, Fred decides that it’s too dangerous for the Reader and him to be together, leading to unforeseen consequences.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Whump, brief mentions of torture, lots of angst. You know the drill.

A/n: This is set in Deathly Hallows after the golden trio have gone off Horcrux hunting. There will be a part two posted as well :)

Fred paced the flat, giving the appearance to George as if he was trying to wear a hole in the carpet. The clock on the wall chimed 6, startling the twins out of their thoughts. Both of them had been on edge since the Bill and Fleurs’ wedding, waiting for Deatheaters to turn up at their door at a moment’s notice. At this point, George could not remember the last time he had a good night’s sleep.

Fred resumed his pacing.

“Alright stop it, you’re going to do my bloody head in; stop walking.” Fred stopped. “Thank you. You know she’ll be back soon.” Y/n was due back from her shift at St. Mungo’s at any minute.

“I know. I know. That’s half the problem.”

George sighed. “So, you’re going to do it then?”

At that moment, Fred looked more tired than George had ever seen him. “I have to. I don’t have a choice.” Fred ran a hand over his eyes.

“Well you know how I feel on the subject but…”

“But nothing. I’ve told you why this has to happen.”

“And I’ve told you why we can make this work!”

Fred thought back to the conversation they last had on this topic earlier in the week.

“If she stays with us, she’s going to get hurt.”

“Look I get it. She’s my best friend as well. But at least if she is with us, she can have some protection.”

“Protection that will mean nothing if she gets targeted by a band of snatchers because she’s associating with blood traitors! She is better off as far away from us… and from me, as possible.”

“We can go and...”

“No. We can’t. She’s half-blood George, and her dad, the only one who could have proved her status mind, is dead. Besides, if they know she’s with me, they’ll target her to get me to spill information on Harry. For both of their sakes I can’t.” Fred looked out of the kitchen entryway back to their room where Y/n was sleeping.

“You’re not thinking this through. There are ways of hiding people.”

“You and I both know that that won’t work…”

Fred came back to the present and shook his head, “It’s not going to happen George, I’ve made up my mind.”

“You’re being a git! If you’d just think for once instead of being a bloody impulsive-”

“I WON’T HAVE HER DIE BECAUSE OF ME!” Fred’s voice cracked.

Unbeknownst to the twins, the door behind them creaked open as the third occupant of their flat walked in.

“I can’t..”

“Fred? Are you alright?” Y/n stood in the doorway, coat in hand, anxiously peering between the two of them. Fred felt as though an icy two-ton ball had just been dropped into his stomach.

“George, can you leave us alone for a minute please.”

George tried to protest.

“Please, George.”

Fred looked him dead in the eye and George, seeing that his twin would not be swayed from his decision, got up and headed towards their back door. He gave Y/n a small, sad smile, before he disappeared into the night.

“Fred, why did George look like that? What’s going on?”

Fred steeled himself for what had to be done. While he was turned away from Y/n it was easier to pretend he was emotionally shut off from the situation.

“We need to have a talk.”

“Are you okay? Did something happen?” Fred grimaced to himself and turned around.

“I think we need to talk about… us.” This is the only way to do it. The only way she’ll actually leave.

“Alright,” Y/n sat down on the couch, still holding onto her coat. Her fingers were twisting the belt. “Shoot.”

Fred took a deep breath, “I think it might be time that we stop this.”

“Stop what?”

“Our relationship. I want to see other people.”

“Other.. What? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh, wait a minute. No, no, no, no, this isn’t about other people. This is about me getting hurt isn’t it.” Y/n paused for a minute, as if she was expecting Fred to nod yes emphatically and ask for forgiveness. He wanted to.

“I told you I’m not…”

Fred lied through his teeth, “This isn’t about that. I don’t want to be in this relationship anymore.”

She was beginning to look hurt now, he pressed on. “I don’t want to be tied down anymore. This is not working for me. I’m tired of this,” he gestured between them

“But you said that-” Break it off now quick like ripping off a plaster.

“I don’t love you anymore.” He heard her quick intake of breath.

She then started to laugh. It was high and sharp and completely unbecoming to her.

“You’re joking right now. I know you are, and George is going to pop out any minute, but I can tell you, this is not funny.” She got up from the couch and moved closer to him. Her finger poked him in the chest. “You can stop the charade now. You’re not like this, you’re not this cruel. If this is not about trying to protect me and this is a joke you need to stop now. It’s not funny and it hurts.”

Her eyes were shining with tears. It took all his strength not to pull her closer, but to instead move away.

“This is not a prank. I’m being honest. I’m done.”

“Can I get an actual reason why?” Because this is for your own good.

“I’ve changed. I don’t love you anymore. You are not a person that I want to keep in my life. I want to find someone who can actually do that for me.” Lies, Lies, Lies.

“Oh. And you’re sure about that?”

He almost choked, “Positive.”

“Well then” She was avoiding looking into his eyes. “I guess we’re done then.”

She looked at the wall and he stared at his feet, fearing that if he saw her eyes or trembling lip the whole charade would come crashing down.

Her voice was tight and shaky, “If you give me half an hour I can be out of here with my stuff.”

He nodded, still not looking at her. He walked to the door, and opened it, the cool night air chilling him.

“Say goodbye to George for me.”

He looked through the doorway to see her one last time, standing with her back facing him, the yellow light from the kitchen giving her an almost otherworldly glow.

Before he lost resolve he shut the door, and walked away, leaving her behind.

_____________________________________________________________

Y/n held her breath, ears straining for the sound of branches cracking from outside her tent. She silently cursed as the now falling snow would muffle the footsteps of any passers-by, making it even more difficult to escape if the snatchers uncovered her hiding spot.

After the ministry had issued the call out for the proving of blood status, Y/n had begun to move from place to place, only stopping for the night, and always leaving before daybreak. With Fred out of the picture, there had been nothing holding her to London, and so she had set off, staying at little inns under false names, trying to destroy any trail she may be unintentionally creating.

Despite creating distance between herself and London, Fred still managed to pop himself into her thoughts no matter where she went. On one rather depressing occasion, she mistook a muggle in the street for him, and when she got back to her bed at the tavern, spent the rest of the evening drinking down a particularly big bottle of firewhisky.

She hadn’t forgiven him. That, she was very firm to maintain with herself. Not only what he’d done but how he had done it, had hurt, and Y/n was adamant that she would never let that happen again.

But despite not forgiving him she still had relapses in missing the life she had had. The evenings at the Leaky Cauldron after they were both too tired from work to actually cook. Sitting in the twin’s office gleefully testing out their new projects. The peaceful breakfasts when the shop had to open early, where the streets outside were calm, and lamps were still shining mutedly through the morning mist. Those mornings had been her favourite, where all had seemed to be right in her world. And now her mornings were spent on the run avoiding snatchers.

It was pitch black in her tent, and Y/n closed her eyes, concentrating on trying to make out the soft sounds outside. In the last couple of towns she had stayed in, she had caught glimpses of snatchers, and when she saw them in the last inn she was staying at, had folded up her small bag of luggage and apparated to the next town over. On the outskirts of the town was a dense forest, and so after purchasing a tent from a nearby muggle camping shop, she hiked up into the woods praying that she would be so deeply concealed that the snatchers would give up.

A rustle on her left made her inhale sharply, and Y/n bit her lip in an effort not to make a sound. Then she heard them.

“How long we gonna be Scabior? I’m just ‘bout freezin’ my bloody pants off out here. I don’t think the girl’s around. We would have seen her by now.”

“We are goin’ to be as long as it takes. I know she’s ‘round here. There were footprints ‘bout a mile back.”

Shit. Y/n had placed concealment charms around the campsite, but she must have forgotten to clear-out her tracks from earlier. She had made the tent invisible, but she had not had time to cast a muffliato charm before they came closer. She didn’t dare speak now, not when they were so close.

“We’ll canvas the area a little longer, and ‘en we’ll go. If my source’s right, she’s the girlfriend of one o’ the Weasleys.” Scabior spat on the ground, “Filthy little blood trai’ors they are. But she’ll be good leverage for them to spill on Potter’s whereabouts. The dark lord will be most pleased. And then they’ll be a nice little reward for those who helped bring that about.” The group murmured in agreeance and continued trudging their way around Y/n’s campsite.

Once they were far enough away, Y/n performed the muffliato spell and began packing up her things in the tent. She needed to move, now. If she got caught there was no one coming to rescue her.

“I don’t think she’s here, Scabior.” Another voice Y/n had not heard before spoke up. There were at least three snatchers then. They were making their way back through the site and her escape was becoming more necessary by the minute. She would never be able to get past three of them.

“Well ‘en, I s’pose we can..” The tent shook slightly as Scabior fell down. With icy dread she realised he had fallen over one of her guy ropes. “Wha’ the.. There’s somethin’ invisible ‘round ‘ere!”

They were going to find her. Dread filled her as she knew she needed to do everything in her power to save Harry. Y/n acted on instinct.

Out of the tip of her wand, the form of a beautiful, shining unicorn appeared and bowed its head. Y/n spoke lowly and quickly.

“George, I have been, or will soon be, caught by snatchers.” She inhaled sharply, trying to stop the fear in her voice. “They are going to use me to get to Fred and Harry. They still think we’re together and they’re coming for you at the Burrow. Get Fred and yourself out of there and don’t tell them anything! Protect Harry at all costs, he’s the only one who can get us out of this.” Her voice nearly broke “Please be careful. Tell Fred I...” Y/n screamed as two hands grabbed her from behind and began to pull her out of the tent. The unicorn ran off, fading through the wall of the tent.

“Now look what we ‘ave ‘ere.” Y/n wand was ripped out of her hands. “I think we just found the key to mister Pottah. Stand up there pre’tty, I ‘aven’t got all day.”

Y/n was forced to her feet.

“Now look at that. Not too shabby for a thief.” Scabior trained his wand on her.

“I’m not a..”

“Save it, pre’tty. No point denyin’ that you stole your magic.”

“I’m half-blood. My father was..” Y/n was cut off again, this time by one of the other snatchers.

“Don’t matter what your father was, unless he can come and explain to the ministry that you’re his daughter. But wait, he can’t. ‘Cause he’s dead.” He chuckled nastily. “But that’s not the most important thing right now love, we’ve got another purpose for you.”

Scabior was growing impatient. “Rookwood, grab ‘er and let’s go. We’re goin’ to take her to Malfoy’s.”

“Right you are then,” With a flick of his wand, ropes tied around Y/n’s feet, hands, and mouth. Every time Y/n struggled they grew tighter.

“You’d best stop with that, or you might not ‘ave hands and feet by the time we are done with you. Although you might not ‘ave ‘em even without the ropes.” The snatchers laughed as Y/n was secured and her ropes held onto by Rookwood. With a stinking warm breath, he simpered in her ear, “Hold on tight.” Y/n couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran down her back.

They disapparated away from the camp.

_____________________________________________________________

The Burrow was quiet. Without the usual hubbub of everyone in the family going on with their day to day activities, the house was almost silent, with the only noises to be heard being Molly’s knitting needles. Fred did not like it at all.

With the shops business being reduced to Owl-orders, the twins had had more time to visit their family. George was currently upstairs twiddling with a new design, and Fred assumed his father was playing again with the muggle radio he had gotten for his birthday. Fred himself was distractedly musing over accounts, one of the only terrible parts of his job. Still, it was a way to pass the time. It was all he seemed to do these days, work, sleep and sometimes talk on Lee’s show Potterwatch.

The clock chimed 9;30 against the silence, and Fred put his head in his hands. He contemplated going up to bed, but upon remembering his argument with George earlier in the evening, decided against it.

George had snapped at him after Fred had only distractedly listened as he listed the new modifications he was planning for one of the new products. He had rounded on Fred, telling him he was bloody useless while he was so hung up on feeling sorry for himself and that if he was going to keep being a prat, the least he could do was fake interest in their livelihood. Fred had then immediately bit back, which had ended in a full-out argument between the two. Arthur had stepped in after they had started to shove each other around, and Molly had ordered them to go to other ends of the house, to which the twins had no issue with doing. Fred had been at the kitchen table doing accounts since.

The clattering of knitting needles on the wooden table shook Fred out of his reverie.

“Alright, you and I need to have a talk” Molly Weasley pulled out a chair opposite to her son.

“You and George don’t argue. And what your father and I saw up there was not usual.”

“We argue all the time. That’s what siblings do.”

“Yes, but not like this. And this has been happening a lot lately. Is this about Y/n?”

“Mum…” Fred sighed dejectedly

“Is it? Because I know George misses her so I can’t imagine how you are feeling.” She gave him a pointed look. Fred started to defend himself, but she cut him off,

“Cut it out Fred, I know you didn’t break up with her because you didn’t love her anymore. I saw the way you two looked at each other. It was the way your father looks at me.” She smiled at him softly.

Fred got frustrated then. Why can’t they understand?

“I had to Mum, she’s in enough danger as it is. There’s no one to vouch for her blood status. I had to, for her sake. She would never have gone if I didn’t make up another excuse.”

“But dear, why not…”

“He would have used her to get to me and to Harry. He would have tortured her Mum. Maybe even killed her. How could I live with myself knowing that she died because of me? At least now she has a chance of escape.” Tears were in his eyes now.

Molly sighed. She stood up and walked around the table.

“Stand up,” he looked at her in disbelief, “Come on, up you get.”

He stood up and she drew him into a hug,

“Listen to me. I know you did what you thought was best, but I think it’s time you go and straighten this all out. Just because there is a chance of something happening it doesn’t mean it will necessarily happen. We are always, always stronger when we are together. And at least you will be able to protect her then. Just, tell me you’ll think about it?”

He pulled out of her embrace and slowly nodded. Her eyes were sad as she looked up at him.

“Now, I think you should go and talk to your brother. Despite what you may have been thinking, he is not actually mad, he’s just having a hard time of it, just like you. Go talk to him.”

“Yes Mum.” He gave her a quick hug once more. “Thank you”

“No problem, dear. Go on, up you go.” She shooed him out of the kitchen.

Fred climbed up to the landing where their shared room was.

“George?” he knocked on the door. After hearing George’s admittance, he twisted the doorknob and walked into the room.

“Look mate, I’m sorry I…” Fred trailed off as he took in the large translucent Patronus that was in his and George’s room. “When did this….?”

“Just now.” George was stunned.

The Unicorn’s mouth opened, and Y/n’s voice rang out,

“George, I have been, or will soon be, caught by snatchers.”

Fred’s pulse began to quicken as fear gripped him like a vice. “Oh my god.”

He could hear her breathing quickly, the fear in her voice shook him to the core.

“They are going to use me to get to Fred and Harry. They still think we’re together and they’re coming for you at the burrow. Get Fred out of there and don’t tell them anything! Protect Harry at all costs, he’s the only one who can get us out of this.”

George looked from the Patronus to Fred, his expression shocked.

They turned their attention back to the Patronus as Y/n’s voice cracked. Fred could tell she was crying.

“Please be careful. Tell Fred I…” The Unicorn opened its mouth and let out Y/n’s piercing scream before fading away into nothingness.

The desk chair flipped over as George stood up out of it so quickly.

Their voices rang out in unison, “We need to go.”

The twins ran out down the flight of stairs. Fred’s heart was in his throat. I shouldn’t have sent her away

Molly began to shout from the floor below “Boys! For Merlin’s sake what are you…” She stopped as the two bounded into the kitchen.

Fred spoke out, “Y/n is in trouble, she’s been caught by snatchers. We need to go.”

Molly’s eyes flickered between the twins, searching for answers, “What do you mean she’s been caught by snatchers?”

“I just got a Patronus from her. They are taking her to get information on Harry.” George answered his mother, “They’re coming for Fred. We need to go and save her, and we need you to cover for us.” He gestured between Molly and Arthur who had just walked into the kitchen.

Arthur looked at his wife. “If Y/n was taken by snatchers they would have gone to Malfoy Manor. That’s a base of operations for them.”

Molly tried to interject, “Arthur we can’t-“

“Molly, the boys are right, they will suspect them coming if all of us are gone. We can track how they are doing with the clock.” Arthur gestured to the tall grandfather clock that was sitting in the living room, “If they get in trouble, then we apparate in and get them out quickly.”

Molly was still not convinced.

“But..”

Fred slammed his fist down on the table. “The longer we wait the more time they have to do something to her.” He looked at George, “We are going now. Tell Bill to be ready to come and back us up. Either George or I will send a Patronus if things start to get bad. George, let’s go.”

The twins stood back ready to apparate when Mr. Weasley stopped them.

“Get in and out quickly, don’t let them see you. Sneak in from the back and stick together. If anything at all goes wrong, you send word immediately; Understand?”

The twins nodded solemnly. They stepped back from the table, nodded to each other, and apparated out of the Burrow.

Arthur took Molly into his arms. He murmured into her hair, “They’ll be fine. I’ll call around for back-up. Just keep an eye on the clock.”

Molly nodded and once Arthur left the room, picked up her knitting and went and sat in the lounge directly opposite the clock. It was going to be a long night.

_____________________________________________________________

The cold lights burned harshly at Y/n’s eyes as she was transported into Malfoy Manor. Rookwood, who had kept his grip tight on the ropes binding her hands, threw her down onto the cold marble floor, walking away with her wand still tight in his grasp.

Y/n landed poorly, and pain seared through her side and shoulder. She tried to move back to her feet, but the ropes only grew tighter. She tried to slow down her breathing, don’t panic that won’t get you anywhere. Just keep breathing, nice and slow.

A sharp, cool voice echoed around the marbled hall, “What is the meaning of all this commotion? Who is the girl?”

From Y/n’s spot on the floor, she saw the figure of Lucius Malfoy walk through to the snatchers.

“This girl’s the key to findin’ Pottah! She’s one of the Weasley twins’ girlfriends. He’ll have to give us the whereabouts of Pottah when he sees how bad we’ve bloodied her up.” Scabior replied gleefully, seeming to take great joy in the pain she was about to be afflicted with.

Lucius took interest immediately, “Sounds like you might have actually done something correctly for once. I’m assuming she’s not pureblood, and that no one is coming to help her? I trust I won’t have an invasion on my hands Scabior, because if I do I will be most displeased. ”

“No, she’s got no connections, we should be…”

While this exchange was occurring Y/n had managed to relax enough to let the ropes around her mouth fall down onto her chin. She had to make an attempt to keep them away from Fred.

“He won’t talk, you know. We broke up. Months ago. He would never betray Harry, especially not for me. Bad luck guys, you’ve got the wrong girl.” Y/n stated this with a false sense of bravado.

“Ha! Listen to ‘er.” Rookwood crouched down and lifted her chin higher. His foul breath wafted into her face as she tried to squirm away. The ropes around her got tighter and were becoming very uncomfortable now.

“Even if I believed you - which I don’t- I still know you’ve known those identical weasels for years. They don’t have it in ‘em to let ya die. Won’t stop me though. And I might get to have a bit of fun while I do it” His grip became tight on her jaw.

“Rookwood,” Lucius summoned Rookwood back to their conversation, “You can play with your new toy later.” He addressed Scabior and the other snatcher, “Go to that pigsty they call a house and tell them we have the girl. Bring this..” He stalked over to one of the side tables and picked up one of two silver two-way mirrors, “That way you can show that you actually have her.”

“Who made you-“

Lucius made an impatient sound, “If you have a better plan then by all means go ahead, but as it is my house and this is the only way of not having to transport her, or one of them here, I suggest you do as I say.”

Scabior opened his mouth to speak, and obviously thinking better of it, shut it again and nodded mutely.

“Very well. Get going then.” Lucius waved Scabior and the nameless snatcher off, and in a blink of an eye, they were gone.

Rookwood remained, uncomfortably close to Y/n. Lucius turned to him, “I do believe it would speed negotiations along if you damaged her a little before they see her.” Rookwood’s eyes shone in glee. “Don’t make too much of a mess. I’ll be back soon to check on your progress.” He turned on his heel and once checking that the second mirror was placed carefully on the mantlepiece, walked out of the hall.

Y/n’s unkempt hair and dirt-covered clothes were easily visible in the mirror. They had put her right on display for one of the most sickening exhibitions in the world. Her reflection was gone as Rookwood stalked over to her, a shining silver knife in his grasp.

It was becoming very difficult not to panic now.

“You see, pretty, Cruciatus curse really won’t do the trick for what we’re tryin’ to achieve here.” He knelt down on the floor, “We gotta make you look the part. Now, anytime you want ta’ tell me something about mister Potter you can go right ahead, and we can stop this unpleasantness. I won’t lie and say I’ll be relieved to stop carvin’, but it’ll definitely be a lot easier for you.”

“You’ll never get anything out of me.” Y/n spat in his face.

He grinned, seemingly not to be angered by the act of disrespect, “Excellent”

Rookwood gently bought the knife down and sliced under her collar bone. Y/n writhed in pain, tears streaming as she started to scream.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #george weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter #whump fic #x reader #angst

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph, you’re amazing at what you do. I just want to know from a true connoisseur, which 3 fics do you think you’ve read and re-read the most number of times? As in, 3 ultimate comfort fics.

Hi Nonny!

Ooof, I’ve been asked a similar question here a couple weeks ago, but hmm, this is actually something I never really had to think hard about! EXCEPT CAN I GIVE YOU 5? Because 5 immediately came to mind. Is that okay?? OMG I’m so sorry. Plus 5 is a number I like better than three, sorry :P Another weird tic of mine. 

No surprise which is my first, hahah:

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

It’s just such a joy to read every single time, and I never skip any parts at all. Start to finish EVERY TIME. 

Next:

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w., 1 Ch. || Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock's perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

This was my first Parentlock fic I read and it’s why I now do read Parentlock. Still one of my favourites, and it’s short enough to read in one sitting. It’s just so sweet, and Sherlock is SO precious, and GAH I LOVE it. Another start-to-finish. Which then brings me to this one:

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

I REALLY like this fic because it’s Sherlock POV and it’s him learning about his feelings for John. THOUGH I feel bad admitting that lately, rereads usually start around Ch. 30, because I love John showing up all BAMFy in Ch. 34 and essentially tells the social workers to piss off. And Sherlock is RIDICULOUSLY adorably in love with John so much in this fic. I’ve reread the whole story enough to know what happens before Ch. 30, and all the smoopy stuff happens after that. BUT DON’T think I don’t love this story. I DO. A LOT. I just... Sometimes need certain parts of a story RIGHT now, and that one singular scene is one of them, and I always just keep going from there. :P

Next:

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w., 4 Ch. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara's American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she's also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she's placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

I just really love this one. It’s painfully sweet and OH GOD I love how much they fall for each other and HARRY IS TWINSIES AND SHE’S AWESOME. Love it. It’s such a feel-good fic with a great ending. Love it.

And:

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w., 12 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Case Fic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage, Angst, Anal, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Spas / Massages, Shampoo, Jealousy, Fake Relationship) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

THIS FIC. GUH. Just, the way John pieces together how much Sherlock pines for him is ACHINGLY beautiful, that all comes together in a really tender scene in a pool. It’s the pool scene we should have had. UGH. AND SHAMPOO. And best friend Lestrade essentially telling John he’s a moron, LOL. LOVE this fic. I’m SO glad I finally remembered this one was the one with the Shampoo and the spa day.

-----

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY not my only always reads. In fact:

Top 30 Read-Again Fics (March 2019)

Top 30 Read-Again Fics Pt. 2 (Sept. 2019)

And I could TOTALLY do another 30 EASILY. The second one, I remember whittling it down quite a bit, LOL. These are just the first five that came to mind right away. I could also add these five:

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w., 26 Ch. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Frottage, Nightmares, Sleepy Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Humour, Fluff, Dancing, Cooking, Happy Ending) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w., 26 Ch. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Perdition's Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., 21 Ch. || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w., 23 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon, Hand / Blow Jobs, Torture) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w., 19 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate's charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

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OKAY I NEED TO CUT HERE or I will go on and ON and ON. Hope this answers your question alright <3

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #read again fics #fave fics #Anonymous

[songtoyou]

Epiphany - Part One

Paring: Luke Crain x Female Reader

Chapter Rating: PG-13 

Word Count: 2,204

Warnings: Talks of drug use and recovery, mention death of a family member. 

Description: Life has never been easy for Luke Crain. After the death of Nell, Luke realizes that he needs to make some changes. He decided to stay in Massachusetts and attend rehab. He was determined to remain on his path of sobriety. When you get assigned to be Luke’s sponsor, it opens a new door of possibilities that neither you nor Luke expected.  

A/N: I finally watched the Haunting of Hill House a while back. I found Luke to be very interesting. This is my take on how Luke would go on with life after Nell’s death and how his continued path to remain sober would look like.

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Updated: Cleaned up for grammar and punctuation errors.

An epiphany is when a sudden and intuitive perception of insight into reality. It can provide a great moment of revelation and present itself as symbolic insight. Some people experience it while others often search for it.

Life was not easy for Luke Crain or his siblings. After the recent events of Hill House, Luke was scared of a life without his twin sister, Nell. Despite Luke being ninety seconds older, he always felt that Nell was his big sister. She was his protector. The only person to believe in him when others constantly sowed doubt. Unfortunately, Hill House ended up taking Nell in the end, along with his father Hugh. Luke was scared. More scared than he had ever been now that Nell was gone.

However, Luke was determined to get clean. To remain clean. He had to do it, not only for Nell but for himself. Both Steve and Theo pitched in to help pay for a good rehab center for Luke to stay. At first, Luke told them, no, but it was Theo who adamantly expressed her desire to support him.

“Luke, you have made it to 90-days. I can tell you want to remain clean. We all see it. Nell still believes in you and so do we. I want to be supportive of you because you’re my little brother and I love you,” said Theo.

With the support and help of his siblings, Luke decided to stay in Massachusetts for treatment. He took up residence with Shirley in the guest house since Theo decided to move out to live on her own. Despite her worries, Shirley believed in her little brother and his determination to remain clean. One could say it was her way to make amends for the guilt she held by not allowing Luke to attend Nell’s wedding.

It was actually Shirley’s husband Kevin, who recommended Banyan Treatment Center in Wilmington, Massachusetts. “One of my sisters went there for her alcohol addiction. She responded well to the program and has continued to stay sober for two-years. Banyan has a good family counseling program, along with outpatient therapy. Pretty much will have everything you need to continue your path for sobriety,” said Kevin one night after dinner.

It did not take long for Steve and Theo to be on board with Luke deciding on Banyan. Both liked what they read of the place. The treatment center was not uber fancy, like the one Shirley paid for all those years ago but also was a tad upscale compared to the rehab center in Los Angeles Luke recently attended.

The therapists and case managers at Banyan were nice and friendly. Rob, Luke’s primary therapist, helped ease him into a routine. Even though Luke was now over 90 days sober, Rob recommended intensive outpatient therapy every day for an hour session. Luke admitted to Rob, along with his siblings, that he was worried about relapsing due to Nell and Hugh’s deaths. He did not want to fall back into old and dangerous habits.

For 30 days, Luke was committed to his intensive outpatient therapy. Talking over his childhood trauma at Hill House and the recent events helped, not only explain his phobias but also tackle his post-traumatic stress. Hill House had a long-lasting effect that damaged his entire family. So much so, that all he wanted to be was numb. To not have to deal with the images in his mind or how the loss of his mother disturbed him.

When Luke “graduated” from intensive outpatient therapy to regular outpatient therapy, Rob recommended a sponsor for him. The Center’s alumni recovery program allowed for past patients who have succeeded in their program to help mentor those currently in the early stages of detox, treatment, and recovery. Having a strong and influential network of sober peers can make all of the difference between an addict relapsing or staying strong through hard times.

That is how you came into Luke Crain’s life. Rob recommended you to Luke as a sponsor. You had just celebrated your third anniversary of recovery. It was not that you had a bad childhood as the reason you turned to drugs. You were not abused, both of your parents were still alive, nor had you experienced any other forms of childhood trauma. Similar to Luke, heroin was your choice of escapism; the way to ease the feeling of pain and suffering. Not your own, but other peoples’.

That was the downside of being an empath.

Of course, no one believed you about being an empath. Your mother had always referred to you as an overly sensitive child and that stress was not something you handled very well. When having to deal with the ability to sense what people are feeling, whether the emotions are happy, sad, scared, stressed, disturbed, or angry, can be a lot for a person to handle. There came a time when taking on the pain of others became too much. You no longer wanted that burden. You no longer wanted to feel anything.

It did not matter how many rehab facilities your parents sent you to or how many times they pleaded; you did not care. For once, you put yourself first. Heroin helped you stop feeling. Helped you feel numb and content. You were happy. Of course, when the high wore off, as it always does, you were back to reality. You hated reality.

The last hit you had made you end up in the hospital. The doctor explained how you overdosed but were able to resuscitate you in time. That was when you finally realized you needed to change. Needed to get clean once and for all. You knew it would take time and patience. That you would not magically become clean and sober overnight. It was a process. Setbacks were a possibility. However, there was always a little voice in the back of your head that helped pull you through the dark times, to motivate you to keep going.

Now here you were about to meet the new mentee that Rob assigned you to. He only gave a little backstory about Luke, but not many other details. You ended up texting Luke asking him to meet you on Sunday at your favorite coffee shop, the As Good As It Gets Café. He promptly replied that he would see you there around noon.

 When Sunday finally rolled around, you headed to the café and waited. It was a quarter past twelve and Luke still had not shown up. You were starting to get nervous and wondering if he would ever appear. You were on the verge of texting him when the bell on the entry door chimed, indicating that someone was entering the café. You looked up and saw a very tall, scruffy, and attractive looking man standing by the door. The way he was looking around with a lost kind of look helped pinpoint that this was Luke. You got up from your booth and walked over to him.

“Luke?” you politely asked.

“Yes,” he said.

You introduced yourself and held your hand out for him to shake, which he took. You immediately became overwhelmed with the emotions that permeated this man. There was a lot of pain and loss underneath. But there was also a sense of hope and happiness that felt nice.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked wondering why all of a sudden you had a weird look on your face.

“Hmm? I’m sorry. I’m fine. I didn’t mean to…daze off for a second,” you laughed and pointed over to the booth you previously occupied. You walked over with Luke following.

“I’m sorry that I’m late. I was finishing up some homework and didn’t track the time properly,” Luke shared.

“Oh, where do you go to school?”

“Uh…I take a creative writing course at Bunker Hill Community College,” he replied.

“Nice. How are you liking it so far?” you asked him.

Before Luke could respond, one of the waitresses came over asking if Luke wanted anything to drink. Indicating that he just wanted coffee, the two of you were soon left alone.

“I like it. The instructor is really nice. It is the only course I am taking, so it doesn’t take up too much of my time. My older brother, Steve, actually encouraged me to enroll after I shared some of my writing with him. He’s a writer himself. I don’t know if you ever heard of him, Steven Crain? He has written a lot of books, mostly ghost stories. His most famous one is, ‘The Haunting of Hill House’. Have you read that book?”

“I have not. I tend to stay away from horror genres,” you told Luke.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. Luke was adverting his gaze to anywhere but you. It was easy to tell that he was nervous and unsure of himself.

“Luke,” you spoke up to get his attention and said, “You don’t have to be anxious or feel uneasy. Getting here, to this step, is a big freaking deal. I get it, trust me. I absolutely get it. I never thought I’d be here. To be completely frank, I always pictured myself dead somewhere in the streets. I’m sure you pictured the same for yourself. But it didn’t. You’re here today because you wanted more for yourself. That is something to be proud of.”

Letting out a sigh, Luke sat back in the booth and crossed his arms over his chest. Sometimes he did not feel proud. He missed Nell. He missed her all of the time. She always believed in him no matter how many times he broke her heart. Nell always forgave him. She was always there when he needed someone to bail him out of trouble.

“You okay, Luke? If you would rather do this another time, that is okay. We can reschedule,” you offered. You could sense a feeling of grief underneath the surface of the man sitting before you.

“No. No, I’m sorry. I…uh…I was thinking about Nellie. My twin sister. She…she died recently. Well, not recent, two months ago. So, it’s still…very…it’s still a lot to handle.”

“I’m sorry,” you told him earnestly. “What was it like having a twin? I don’t have any siblings, so I always like to hear other people’s sibling stories.”

“Having siblings has its pros and cons,” Luke laughed, but continued, “They can be much at times, but I’m glad to have them. Especially now that Nellie is gone. They have been incredibly supportive, which makes all the difference in the world.”

“I really appreciate you sharing this with me, Luke. I know it can’t be easy. I am a stranger after all. You’re actually my second mentee from the alumni recovery program. My previous one …well her story didn’t have a happy ending,” you shared with Luke.

He could relate. When he left the clinic in Los Angeles to find Joey and bring her back to get her clean again. She was nine-months clean at the time but ended up using while being back on the streets. Luke would be lying to himself if he did not say he was rather disappointed in Joey. To him, Joey was someone who he could look up to while trying to get clean. He should have known something was off with her during what would be their last night at the clinic. Joey reminded him of Nell, so he could not stand by and do nothing. Joey helped him during his first week at the clinic. So, Luke felt that he owed it to her to return the favor.

Unfortunately, Joey did not want his help in the end. To this day, Luke still does not know what really happened to her after she swiped the drugs off him and headed towards that alley. But deep inside, Luke knew she did not make it. That her body would either be discovered or continue to rot in that alley. Theo would tell him that Joey was not his responsibility. That he had to put himself first when it came to recovery.

Luke pushed his coffee cup to the side and leaned on the table. You were so focused on your own coffee cup that you did not notice him staring at you intently. He was taking you in and assessing you. So far, he could admit that he found you attractive. You had a nice built. Your clothing was not too flashy. He could tell that you were the type to choose comfortable clothing over fashionable attire. However, it was your eyes that stood out. There was a softness and warmness to them that he found quite soothing. There were no ulterior motives behind them or any sense of malice. Luke could see that your intentions with him were good and that you really wanted to help him in his recovery by being a supportive mentor.

“Hey,” he said to get your attention. “I promised that I’ll come to talk to you if I ever feel like I might…. Or if I just feel like I need someone to talk to.”

“I appreciate that, Luke,” you told him sincerely.

#luke crain #luke crain x female reader #luke crain x reader #the haunting of hill house #oliver jackson cohen

[heartmeadows]

So, uhh hi. I’m sorry about my last post. I do think I overshared, not by much but still by enough that I’ve felt ashamed ever since. And avoided posting anything else or responding to anyone. I’ve needed time to figure things out and I have actually finally overcome some big obstacles that have been in the way of my healing, recovery, whatever you wanna call it. I’m unfortunately gonna ramble so it’s gonna be under a read more

It’s taken over 6 months for me to even be able to truly feel and be present, and stop isolating myself, pushing people away, and avoiding facing my fears and troubles.... among other effects, symptoms, etc. of trauma. Trauma fucks you up. I think by now most people know that. But I’m ready to stop wallowing in self pity and hate, and letting my C-PTSD run the show. I can do better, I can be brave. I know I have more in me. It’s just that whenever I take steps back and/or I get hurt I need time to recover my strength to get back up and keep going on. With survival, recovery, all that. I do things my way no matter what. And it’s a mess most of the time. But there’s also the other side of it all. I don’t have a word for it. I suppose what I mean is that despite it all the pain me and the people I love, and even strangers and any of us, have experienced and keep experiencing there’s still hope. There’s hope, joy, light and beauty in life even during the darkest times. Sometimes the pain just blinds me too much. I could keep going on about... a lot. Pretty words. Wise words. Things I’ve learned and things I’m learning. But I have a tendency to write or talk too much, or not at all. I really find it hard to be in the middle, I always will be bipolar. Not in a quirky way, not in an ableist way some people tend to use words without understanding their meaning. I mean that I have bipolar disorder, among other issues or qualities. I guess I’m not exactly making sense fully or making any definitive point. But it’s not like I can currently can. I’m still figuring things out. I just mean that I’m me. I don’t know how to be anything else, nor do I want to ever pretend again to fit in. I learnt some dark but needed lessons the hard way. I won’t ever allow my loneliness to be a way for people to hurt me because in my desperation to feel like I belong I turn to the wrong people and trust the kind of people no one should. Anyway, I digress.  It’s one step and one day at a time. And it’s ok. And I’m ok. And I’m also not ok. I’m a lot of things. A collection of paradoxes. Always liked that sentence and still find it something I could pretty much get tattooed because I relate to it on a deep level no matter how pretentious it might sound to some people. But yeah, I’m rambling. It’s well past midnight, I just had a cigarette and a cup of coffee earlier in my garden in the lovely summer air. The nights are already getting darker but I enjoy that. I don’t mind that my sleeping schedule keeps changing constantly and that I am living both a life of night owl and an early bird. Guess I’m a versatile bird lmao. Honestly, I’m going through that whole “sudden” moment of clarity at the most inconvenient time ‘cause it’s not like I can get my shit together right now. I’ve just found the positivity and hope I’ve been searching for. I’ve found solutions to a lot of problems. It’s that same old “I know all the answers to the questions I’ve had lately” but not really that hyperbolic. I’m thankfully not manic. I know what I need to do in order to start getting better again. I also know that it’s gonna take a lot of courage to do most of the things that will help me get forward. It’s not gonna be easy. But it’s time to stop waiting for things to change without actually working to change things. I’m just... over the past. I’m ready to let go of the pain and of the person I was that I’ve been longing to be again, and also of the regret and shame of the person that I became at times that I never wanted to be. I thought that I had to cling onto the past in order not to lose myself after going through trauma that made me truly feel like I’d lost everything to the point I went too far and attempted suicide four fucking times. After years of not even so much as cutting myself. You know, not my first attempts but my worst ones because it’s a miracle after miracle surviving these overdoses. It’s hard to understand I guess. I really thought I’d lost everything. That they took everything from me. But I was wrong. I understand now that after everything I’ve finally come to a point where I can re-invent myself. To choose where I want my life to head towards and who I truly want to be. I’ve already come so far, for example I’ve finally overcome my addiction to hard drugs. And I never thought I could do that. But I kept trying. I kept going. I relapsed last year and that lead to all the misery that has followed me. But I got through it. I still have my other, physical addiction to meds that are for now the only way I can cope with my physical issues and also numb myself to a point. But I know I’ll find a way out of this one too. I won’t let anything or anyone destroy me anymore. I’ve made mistakes and I’ve learnt lessons the hard way. I’ve paid the price of asking too many questions in life and wanting to find the answers by being stupid, reckless, too trusting, too lonely, too self destructive. I guess I still have to figure out how to stop rambling too much, especially when I’m pretty sure without all the context a lot of this doesn’t make sense. So, I’ll just try my best to finish this post with saying that I’m ready to let go, move on and re-invent myself again. Like I said. But not fully, like I have done before. I’m not changing my name again (and people have stopped calling me by my deadname, if it’s ok to use that word to describe my birthname that isn’t my name at all, not in any way, and I changed it legally a long time ago too) or dying or cutting my hair, nah. I’m not fully happy with the surface level of my identity and life right now because I’ve gained weight, gotten more ill and started to age in a way I know is caused by being unhealthy (stupid to keep smoking still even after being in a coma and a breathing machine way too many times by now because of the overdoses)... It’s hard to make this short, sorry. What I mean is that I’m disappointed and hurt with where my choices and the consequences of not only my acts but others have lead me to. But it’s not over. Because I’m alive, I survived and I still have a chance to change things for the better. And to truly be myself and get back on track on my journey of self improvement and recovery, healing. It’s not too late like I thought. I can still be Lena and for that to mean that I can become someone I can truly be proud of. To be someone the people in my life can look up to. And to keep following the path I create for myself, to pursue my freedom and my passions. To let go of the self destruction. To walk the path of light and accept the dark but not let it control me. I can find balance, mentally, physically and spiritually. I can heal. Everything’s gonna be ok. So I’ll just stop here. I’m gonna go sim, to be honest, and I’ll hope to post sims stuff again soon enough. If anyone actually read this annoyingly long post I thank you for your patience and for listening to me, so to speak. It’s important for me to post this so that I can come back to this in those moments I feel low again. To have a reminder that will give me strength to keep going on.

#personal

[sailorbellewrites]

Jawbreaker

characters — taehyung x reader (aka kiddo) (ft. members of bts)

summary — taehyung thinks dating you is easy and it is, until it isn’t. then he doesn’t know what to do.

wordcount — 8.3k 

information — one shot. fluff. femme reader. character inspired by megan thee stallion, cardi b, and lil’ kim. direct sequel to more than you can chew. makes references to no limit. part of the baking news au. 

warnings — strong language. mean & aggressive characters. casual mentions of sex and sexual behavior (but no smut because i’m shy). light angst. excessive mentions of the color pink. vague mentions of other celebrities and influencers. 

author’s note — i meant to post this months ago, but it just didn’t want to get written. it was actually meant to be attached to more than you can chew, but it just would have been a beast of a story. i actually rewrote this part roughly three times and i am sure there are still some editing mistakes. i’m so sorry for the long wait. i’m not very happy with the final product. i promise the next story will be better. 

jawbreaker —

Taehyung really likes you.

It’s not a secret. Everyone knows it. He would shout it from the rooftops if you let him—though you would never let him do such a thing. You were certainly the cooler head when it came to relationship intensity, knowing that if Taehyung had his way, you would be married already. “Oh my god, it’s only been five months,” you once told him in response to a picture of an engagement ring he had saved on his phone. It was a typical Tuesday night date, taking place in your studio as you fiddled with the hook of a track technically meant for Hoseok. “Calm down, lover boy.”

“It’s been almost six months and I just asked if you liked it,” he had replied with a small pout, pulling your chair away from your monitor and closer to where he was sitting on the loveseat. “Isn’t it good for me to know what you like?”

“We’re not there yet,” you replied simply, shaking your head at the way he rolled his eyes at you, as though you were the one being ridiculous.

“I might as well know everything now, so I don’t mess up later. Right?” He questioned, grabbing your left hand in his and fiddling with your ring finger. 

“If we make it that far,” you muttered, laughing lightly when he pinches you for your words.

“Answer the question. Do you like it?”

“Hmm…” you hum out, a small smirk settling on your face. “I think you can do better.”

Taehyung thinks he’s in love with you.

That is a secret. No one knows it. He would shout it from the rooftops if he were sure about it—sure that you would reciprocate his feelings, sure that you loved him back; but he’s not too sure. You were almost too cool when it came to the relationship, never going above and beyond the most basic of expectations. You answered every text, showed up to every date on time, and referred to him as “the boyfriend” on a few of your Instagram posts not related to music, but that was about it. And yes, his boss Seokjin had told him that you were putting in more than enough effort for a relatively new relationship, but Taehyung still found himself craving for more.

“But what more could she give you?” Seokjin asks during closing one night, his own soon-to-be fianceé (if everything went according to plan) mopping up the front of the bakery. Seokjin flips chairs on the top of tables, while Taehyung wipes down the now empty display racks. It’s a team effort that allows Taehyung to leave earlier, something he is always grateful for because he can spend more time with you. “Like do you want her to write a song about you?”

“I mean, yes.”

“You’re insane.”

“Just something, you know? Something more than studio dates and donuts. I feel like that’s all we ever do. What do you think, Noona? Am I asking for too much?” Taehyung questions, directing his words to the older woman up front. 

She stops her mopping and shrugs, leaning against a wall as she mulls over her answer. Her eyes go towards Seokjin as finally states, “I’d have to agree with Jin. But we have half of our dates in the kitchen after hours, so maybe we’re the wrong people to ask.” Taehyung sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “If you’re not feeling satisfied, though, you should just talk to her about it. You know what they say, communication is key.”

“I don’t know how she would feel about that,” he replies, imagining just how easy it would be for you to misunderstand him or write him off as needy—though he didn’t exactly think being needy for you was a problem. 

“Aww, don’t be like that. You never know what she might say. She could surprise you.”

At this time, Seokjin flips the last chair on top of its table and moves toward his girlfriend with a cheesy grin. “Wow, what is this mess? You call this mopping? Have you ever mopped before? Have you ever held a mop before? If you needed help from a master cleaner like me, you could have just asked sweetheart,” he teases, grabbing the mop from her hand and pressing a sloppy kiss to her forehead.

His girlfriend cringes away from the kiss for a moment, but ends up leaning into the man nonetheless as she whispers, “You get what you pay for.”

He scoffs. “I don’t pay you.”

“Exactly,” she replies smugly, hand going up to pick dried frosting off of her boyfriend’s collar. Seokjin lets out a choked laugh, arm slipping around her shoulders and pressing her into a too tight hug. She pretends to struggle against him for a bit, before eventually wrapping both her arms around his waist and squeezing just as tightly.

Taehyung watches the silly display of affection with wide eyes, warmth flooding into his heart. The two people in front of him were so clearly in love that he couldn’t help but feel it too. It was plain as day. This behavior wasn’t something he was often able to do with you though. Taehyung understands well that no matter what he did or said to you, your responses would always be carefully calculated. He respects how methodical you are in the way you carry yourself, as though you are afraid something could go wrong at any moment. He knows it’s not easy, which is why his admiration for your handling of relationships in a notoriously cut throat industry grew almost everyday. 

Yes, Taehyung knows he loves you. 

Yet, as he watches the way Seokjin and his girlfriend begin to playfully fight over the mop, an intense love in their eyes, Taehyung finds himself wishing that you would let go and love him too. 

.

.

People don’t always believe that you’re a rapper. They tend to assume that you’re Hoseok’s girlfriend or a groupie when they meet you, failing to make the connection that you’re the infamous Kiddo until they see you on stage. You know why, of course. You’re the only woman in your crew, you’re nowhere near as popular as the other guys, and you don’t dress like a rapper. Or at least, that’s what Yoongi told you one night as you shared a cigarette behind the bar after a performance. 

“It’s the biggest thing holding you back,” he mumbled, the cigarette between his lips looking like it would slip out at any moment. You knew it wouldn’t, but you still eyed it carefully just in case. Attempting to quit had made you hyperaware of its presence, but you knew Yoongi wouldn’t let it drop. He was always so in control—one of many things about him that you envied. “You look like you’re ready to fuck at the drop of a dime.”

“Maybe I am,” you had grumbled back, eyes still on the cigarette. His words were trying your patience, though you didn’t know if your irritation was caused by their truthfulness or your desire to smoke. “Do you have a problem? Cause I can solve it for you.” 

“I don’t care if you dress like a whore,” he snapped at you. “Goddamn, you’re being a bitch tonight. Here, take this!” He snatched his half smoked cigarette out of his own mouth in annoyance, shoving it at you. You accepted it happily, choosing to ignore his insults in favor of savoring in your relapse.

You had long ago realized that most of the men around you would never understand how you dressed. The clothes you wore for performances and photoshoots were provocative to say the least. Vibrantly colored lingerie, leather, lace, and heels most others would deem too tall for comfort littered your closet. Your hair was always meticulously styled and your nails were always done in extravagant fashion. You made sure that your outfits highlighted as much of your body as possible, keeping all eyes on you. It was a far cry from the hoodies and occasional leather jackets sported by your friends, but you didn’t care. Your clothes made you feel powerful. The image you had constructed and thoroughly maintained worked to push your career further, making you stand out in the sea of sameness that had become common for the rappers around you. But those in your circle never see it that way.

Taehyung does, though. Taehyung watches with rapt attention as you show him the new pieces you buy, listening carefully as you explain why certain tops have to be paired with certain bottoms for maximum effect. He wordlessly takes pictures of you with various filters and backgrounds, never complaining when you ask him to take more because you don’t think they are good enough. He doesn’t tease you when you get cold from the lack of fabric, nor does he yell at you when you have unfortunate wardrobe malfunctions like the guys. Instead, he offers you his sweaters or quickly adjusts your clothes before you can even notice the problems. Taehyung knows just how important your image is to you.

Or at least, you thought he did.

“What?” You question, tone edging on impatient as his reflection continues to stare you down in the mirror. You refuse to turn around and face him physically, trying to keep your focus on the highlight you’re attempting to apply in the inner corner of your eye without poking yourself. The tension in your small bathroom is suffocating, but you don’t want to act on it. An argument is the last thing you need. 

“I always watch you do your makeup,” Taehyung answers robotically, eyes still on you.

“Yeah, but—”

“But?” He cuts you off, making you pause your motions in shock. He’s angry and you don’t know why. It puts you both in unfamiliar territory. While Taehyung has seen you angry a million and one times over small things relating to music, venues, promoters, and fans, you cannot say the same for him. The angriest he had ever gotten in front of you came when he suddenly had to pick up extra shifts at the bakery because a coworker had caused a car accident and that moment was nothing like this. 

“Can you just stop fucking looking at me like that? I’m trying to concentrate.” 

He lets out a tense laugh of disbelief at your words before exiting your bathroom and moving to sit on the small couch in your living room. He’s not surprised to find you following him less than a minute later—you were never one to back down from a fight and you both were in the beginning stages of one. When you position yourself directly in front of him, he drops his head to hands and averts his eyes to the floor in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. 

“What crawled up your ass and died tonight?” You ask.

“Go finish your makeup,” he requests quietly, words stilted as he refuses to look up at you.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothi—”

 “It’s not nothing. Don’t lie to me. You can’t even look at me right now.”

Taehyung’s head shoots up at your words, jaw clenching as he realizes his efforts to stay calm were futile because he can’t look at you without feeling another wave of anger crash over him. “Your outfit,” he bites out.

“My outfit?” You parrot back to him in sarcastic disbelief. “You’re staring at me like I fucked your best friend and murdered your mom over… an outfit?”

“You might as well have,” he mumbles under his breath, before stating a bit louder, “It’s lingerie.” 

He says it as though it’s obvious, but it’s not to you. “I-I… a-are you serious?” You stutter out, mind still trying to process his words. Taehyung doesn’t verbally respond, choosing to move his eyes back to the floor instead. You wrack your brain for the right thing to say, because what you actually want to say would likely lead to a breakup and you absolutely don’t want that to happen. You feel as though you’ve been transported into a particularly cruel episode of The Twilight Zone, where you watch your perfect boyfriend turn into one of your evil exes right before your eyes. “I… I wear lingerie for shows all the time. You’ve never had a problem before this. Hell, this covers more of me than what I was wearing earlier today. You didn’t seem to mind then.”

“It’s different.”

“How?” You shout out, frustration evident in your tone. 

“You wore that for me a month ago,” he replies, looking up at you incredulously. His blood began to boil the moment you opened your apartment door, immediately realizing that you had planned to perform in the black lace set. You were even wearing the same black and gold heels with it. He knew for a fact that you bought the lingerie for him, a slightly belated birthday present given to him in your studio. You made him cum as many times as it took to get tears running down his face, then took him to your place and cooked him his favorite food for dinner. He almost told you he loved you then, but decided against it lest you believed he was exaggerating his appreciation for your actions. It was the single most sentimental thing you had done for him in your relationship thus far and you knew just how sentimental Taehyung could get. In his mind, you should have known better than to think that he would want to share any part of that night with the world. 

You look down at your clothes, eyes acknowledging that it was indeed the set you purchased with his birthday in mind. It took you hours to find, trudging through the bitter cold to four different lingerie stores before you settled on it. However, you still didn’t see the problem. “So what? It’s not like it has your cum stains on it or anything.” 

“God, do you always have to be—don’t be crude right now. I’m being serious,” he grits out, feeling intensely out of control.

“Well what would you prefer I say?” You ask, exasperation heavy in your tone. You feel tired and annoyed, knowing this argument might affect your performance later in the night.

“I want you to say that you’ll change.”

“No,” you reply after a beat, a dark laugh surrounding the word, though it lacks any humor. “No fucking way. I’m not changing.” You couldn’t believe that he was asking you to do such a thing. It wasn’t the first time that a person you were dating had made such a request—in fact, your ex had made the request often and it was equally as often ignored. However, it was the first time Taehyung had asked you to change and all you could feel was hurt. You couldn’t believe he fell so easily into the simple trap of insecurity that had tainted your previous relationships. “Look, unless you have a real reason for me to change, you’re just gonna have to get over yourself.”

 “I just gave you a real reason,” he stresses bitterly. “And if you cared about me at all—”

“It’s not about caring for you, Tae! They are just clothes. They don’t do anything, but sit on my body and make me feel good. You, of all people, know that. It’s stupid to as—”

“It’s not stupid to ask you to keep some things private!” He yells, up on his feet with a fire raging in his eyes. You can feel your heart beating hard in your chest, nerves getting the better of you because you aren’t used to this level of rage from him. It’s a feeling both too familiar and too uncomfortable at the same time. It was everything you didn’t want in another relationship and everything Taehyung had promised not to be through his sweet words and actions—and yet you found yourself back there again. “You’re not wearing regular clothes or basic lingerie you buy just to perform in. You bought that specifically for me! You had sex with me in that. So now everyone at your show and everyone who follows you online is going to know exactly what you look like when you fuck me. I didn’t sign up to share that part of my life with the whole goddamn world!”

His rant finishes in a roar, the last sentence screamed so loudly that the final words come out hoarse and broken. His eyes are rimmed red, but he continues to stand tall, bracing himself as he expects you to respond in kind.

You don’t.

Rather, he watches you take a large step back and whisper, “Get out.”

“What?” He responds dumbly, unable to fully comprehend your words. It wasn’t in your nature to extinguish fights so completely, preferring to keep going until disagreements had naturally run their course or threats of violence had been made. You never walked away and you certainly never let others walk away. This was different. This hurt.

“You don’t get to yell at me over clothes. You don’t get to yell at me, period. So get out.” 

You watch as Taehyung takes in the full meaning of your words, opening his mouth briefly as though he wants to argue more, but closing it again. Giving you a rough nod, you can do nothing but watch as he grabs his jacket, slips on his shoes, and exits your apartment, slamming the door in his wake. 

.

.

Eight days. Eight long days. Eight miserable days. Eight long, miserable days of Taehyung slowly losing his mind. You had not spoken to him or seen him in eight days. Every single attempt he made to contact you was ignored. If it weren’t for read receipts and the fact that you had kept all the pictures of him up on your Instagram, he would have assumed that you were broken up. Although, at this point, he would have preferred a break up. At least, he could have made moves to win you back. This current situation left him stuck with nowhere to go.

“What do I do?”

“Well you can start,” Namjoon states, setting a pastel pink mug engraved with his wedding date down in front of his friend, “by drinking that.” Taehyung stares at the clear liquid inside of the cup curiously before shrugging his shoulders and taking a swig. His tongue instantly curls back into his mouth as his taste buds are assaulted by a strong, bitter flavor. He slams the mug back down on the coffee table with a gag. Namjoon lets out a chuckle at his reaction, sitting down beside him with a matching mug of his own. “Drink slow.”

“Is this vodka?”

“A strong drink for strong business,” Namjoon responds, taking a sip of whatever he has poured into his own cup. Namjoon had invited him over at the end of his shift, taking note of how much Taehyung had been moping around the shop. His mood was bad for business, apparently, and Namjoon was the ultimate fixer when it came to those sorts of things. “Now I think I know what happened, but can you tell me your side of things again?”

Taehyung throws his head back, staring at the ceiling as he recounts the argument once more. It’s all he’s been able to think about, hyper focusing on every sour facial expression and negative word you said. It makes his heart hurt; he misses you. “And then she told me to get out, so I did. I haven’t spoken to her since.”

“Ouch. How long has it been?”

“Eight long days and counting.”

“Damn, I guess she knows how to hold a grudge. Good for her,” Namjoon comments with a light laugh, as though he was impressed by your actions. Taehyung wants to scream, but he settles for a deep scowl. “But I really don’t think you have anything to worry about Tae. She still claims that she is very much taken. You aren’t broken up or anything.”

“I just want her to talk to me,” Taehyung whines, hands running through his hair in distress. “Ugh, I shouldn’t have left. I should have stayed and just fought it out.” Namjoon laughs at his words, but Taehyung continues, “I keep listening to her songs just to hear her voice, but it’s not enough. I don’t want Kiddo saying she’ll fuck me to sleep, I only want her.”

Namjoon snorts, nudging his younger friend with his shoulder. “That’s so stupid, Tae. You know you can’t have one without the other. They are the same person. If you keep separating her into different parts in your head, the two of you are gonna keep having these problems.”

Taehyung hums out a confused note. “What do you mean?”

“Your girlfriend is kind of like a jawbreaker.”

Taehyung grunts, reaching for his mug again. “Listen, if you’re about to describe all the ways she’s going to keep hurting me, don’t bother. Jungkook already did that—twice. And it was worse the second time around.”

“I mean the candy,” Namjoon starts, pausing to take another sip of his drink as he contemplates the best way to continue. Taehyung thinks Namjoon is the only other person in the world whose way with words rivals your own. He speaks with a certain amount of care and consideration that make Taehyung jealous. Perhaps, if he were more like Namjoon, he wouldn’t be in this mess. “A jawbreaker is this candy ball that’s really popular abroad,” he continues. “They are huge, big, and sweet—but hard. You can’t bite through them like normal candy. You’ll break your teeth or dislocate your jaw if you try, thus the name jawbreaker. If you want to eat it and enjoy it, you have to suck it down.”

“If this turns into some sex thing, I swear to god—”

“It’s a metaphor, you pervert. Keep up.” Namjoon chastises.

“You’re the pervert,” Taehyung mutters gruffly under his breath, taking a long swig of the vodka in his cup. “Fine. Continue.”

“Jawbreakers have different layers and flavors. The more you suck on it, the more layers you’ll get to experience; but at the end of the day, it’s still all the same candy.”

“I hate this metaphor.”

“You hate it because you don’t understand it,” the older man says sagely, giving his friend a slow head tilt. “It’s really quite simple if you think about it.”

Taehyung clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Just spit it out, Joon!”

“She’s a sweet girl, Tae. You and I both know that. You approached her because you were attracted to her, but you stayed because she’s obviously more than a pretty face. She’s just not always going to be that easy to digest though—at least not all the time. Sometimes you might get the layer that cooked you dinner for your birthday and other times you might get the layer that thinks nearly nude bar fights are appropriate. It’s still the same candy, just like it’s still the same girl. You have to take your time with her like you would a jawbreaker.”

Taehyung’s ears perk up at Namjoon’s words, panic shooting through him as he questions, “Did she get into a naked fight?”

“Last year. It didn’t start nak—don’t worry about it.”

Taehyung places his cup back on the table, dropping his head forward with a deep sigh. “So you’re saying I just…  have to wait this out until she’s ready to be with me again?”

“Well she hasn’t technically left you yet.”

“And you’re sure there is nothing else I can do? There’s nothing here that I’m missing? I don’t want to wait anymore. I just want to be with her.”

“I know that, but if you want to be with her, you just have to accept who she is. Don’t think she’ll change or come running back to you just because you do something extravagant. She’s not gonna suddenly see your point of view or be rescued from her own bad judgement. You’re not actually her hero, Tae. That’s not how life works.”

“Things are fine when she’s not wrapped up in her whole Kiddo persona—”

Namjoon cut him off with an annoyed groan, shaking his head roughly. “You’re not getting it. You say you want to be with her, right? That means you want to be with all of her, including all the shitty ‘Kiddo’ flavors and colors that go along with it.”

“But—”

“Kiddo isn’t just a persona. It’s her. And if you don’t like it, maybe you don’t need to be with her.”

Taehyung wants to argue back, but can’t find the resolve to do so as guilt and shame begin to settle in his chest. He never consciously thought that his favorite parts of you were separate from your rap identity, but he couldn’t fight Namjoon’s words. While he respected the more sexually aggressive side that came with your career, he clearly adored the soft and sweet side of you more. He wonders, glumly, if he’s treated you differently because of his preference, only to be crushed by the realization that the argument proved he had been. 

“I’m in love with her,” Taehyung murmurs quietly, making Namjoon sit up. Everyone knew Taehyung’s feelings for you were strong, but no one expected love to be in the cards. Sure, it had been closing in on a year in terms of a relationship, but on the outside looking in, things still appeared fairly casual between the two of you. Your behavior from day one hadn’t changed at all. 

“Is that right? Are you sure?”

Taehyung nods, words coming out like a stream of conscious thoughts. “I love her. I’ve known for months. It’s just sometimes… I feel like I get more Kiddo than I do—I mean you’re right, they’re the same person, she’s just one person. I just wanted something that didn’t have to be a part of her image for once. I was never trying to control her or separate her, but I just…” He stops when he can no longer think of what to say, leaning back into the couch with his eyes going up to the ceiling. 

“I know,” Namjoon states suddenly, “and she knows too. She’s not innocent in all of this. I told her as much when I saw her.”

This information shocks Taehyung. “You spoke to her?” The older man hums an affirmative sound and nods. “When?” 

“A few days ago. She came into the bakery.”

“She came in?” Taehyung asks, voice increasing in pitch as he turns to fully face Namjoon. “Where was I? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Calm down, Tae. You were off. She just wanted donuts, but didn’t want to see you,” he answers with a mild shrug. “It’s probably better that you weren’t there. Jungkook refused to serve her and then Hoseok started arguing with him and threats started flying—it was a mess.” Taehyung groans, knowing that if anything, Jungkook’s actions only made you more angry at him. “But Jin and I were able to calm things down.” 

“Do I even want to know what she said?”

“To Jungkook? A lot. Your girl has a hell of a mouth on her. I haven’t heard some of the words she used in years. Seokjin was blushing.” Taehyung lets out a sad laugh, thoughts racing with all the possible things you could have said. Part of him wished he was able to hear all the things you had uttered and seen the shocked look on people’s faces, but he supposed it was better that he wasn’t around. “But to me?” Namjoon continued, “Not much. Things involving your sex life should be private. It’s just going to cause problems in the future if she keeps trying to bring it to the stage. She knows better.”

“So you told her I was right?”

“You were both wrong,” Namjoon replies smoothly. “You shouldn’t have tried to force her hand and she shouldn't have crossed that line. Neither of you were thinking of each other. You can’t be selfish in a relationship.” There is a beat of silence, Namjoon’s statement lingering in the air for a moment. “I know how some people feel about her, but I actually like you two together. In all the years that I’ve known her, I don’t think she’s ever been with someone who cares about her like you do.” Taehyung can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips, nodding slowly at Namjoon’s words. “Just give her a little bit more time. Things will work out.”

.

.

He looks at you like he’s seen a ghost. He feels like he’s seen a ghost. It’s been ten days.

“Hi,” you say quietly. You come off as shy, eyes bouncing around the displays, but never settling directly on Taehyung even though he’s right across from you. It feels odd, not at all like how your relationship normally functions. Any other day would have found you leaning the entire upper half of your body on the counter, throwing out suggestive quips as you ordered in an attempt to make Taehyung stutter. Your current lack of confidence is startling, causing Taehyung to stare at you for a few seconds longer than normal as he searches for any changes in your face, hair, and shape. It’s only been ten days, but he knows just how much can change in ten days. Relief floods through his system when comes to find that—physically—you look just as he expects you to. 

Finally, he breathes out an equally gentle, “Hi, stranger.”

The tease hits you harder than he intended it to, with your back straightening out and eyes narrowing. “I’m a stranger now?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you in ten days…” he trails off, the sarcastic lilt to his tone making you visibly bristle with discontent. 

You should have expected the cold shoulder, given how long you had gone without speaking to him. You needed more time to process than you realized and going to your friends didn’t help. To say opinions were divided on the matter was an understatement. Some people were disgusted by what you wore, while others were furious with Taehyung’s behavior. You were most surprised by Hoseok, who normally sided with you when it came to relationship troubles. This time, however, he turned his nose up at your outfit choice and referred to the various ways Taehyung had attempted to reach out to you as “pathetic and underserved.” Yoongi had no strong opinions one way or the other, but his fianceé had plenty to say (which only served to rile you up again). She couldn’t believe how serious his demands were and how easily he left your house. She wondered, quite loudly, where the sweet and perfect Taehyung had gone. 

But it was actually Namjoon’s words that dealt a huge blow to your ego. He dressed you down in a way that only he could, never raising his voice or calling you names, but calmly explaining all of your missteps to you until you felt smaller than a coffee cup. His final words had been running around your head for days: “I know it’s not what you’re used to, but sometimes it pays to be soft. You can’t have a successful relationship if you’re going to be so hard all the time.”

Thinking of his words once again, you inhale slowly to calm the little fires building in your heart. “I’m sorry for that,” you start, taking another deep breath before continuing by saying, “I shouldn’t have ignored you. It was wrong.”

Taehyung takes in a shocked breath of his own at your apology. He had expected a bit more pushback or an apology without actually saying the words. You were never one to easily admit when you were wrong, your pride being too strong for such casual admittances of guilt. Your repentance most often came in the form of covering drink tabs or ordering food. This sort of softness was new to him and all he could feel was thankful. 

Leaning over the counter, he grabs your hand in his own and presses a gentle kiss to the back of it, smiling widely when you don’t pull away. “I’m really sorry too. I mean it. I know I must have told you a hundred times already, but I cr—”

“It’s okay,” you stop him, squeezing his hand gently so that he knows you are serious. “Namjoon said that we’re both idiots. We’ve said our sorries and I want to just leave it at that.”

Taehyung lets out a short chuckle at your words, pressing another kiss to the back of your hand because he finally gets to hold it again. “ Well, I would never call you an idiot. I’m more than ready to leave things be if you are. I really, really missed you.” 

“I—”

“Hey Tae, can you help out in the bac—oh!” You let go of Taehyung’s hands quickly as he turns to find Jungkook standing in the kitchen doorway, a tray of bread in his hands and his eyes locked on your in a fierce glare. “You really came back here? What? Was there nobody to free off of at the Krispy Kreme?” He questions, audacity laced through his words. It was clear that there was no love lost between the two of you.

You roll your eyes dramatically, spitting out, “Bite me, bread bitch.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise at your insult, visibly tensing up. He opens his mouth to retaliate, Taehyung sharply states, “Don’t start!” Jungkook’s jaw locks in frustration, eyes shooting to his coworker in anger, but Taehyung keeps going. “Not right here and not right now. Seokjin will kill us. Bite each other’s heads off later, outside of the shop. Please!” Although there were very few people in the bakery, it was beginning to gain a small reputation amongst the older crowd for being a place for “rough housers;” Seokjin and Namjoon would crawl into individual balls and die if another incident occurred.

Jungkook clicks his tongue in annoyance, but otherwise relents, quickly placing the tray on the counter. “Hurry up and finish whatever this is. There’s a big takeout order of macarons that we need to get finished before five.” Taehyung nods in affirmation, a pleading look in his eyes that appeases Jungkook enough to send him back into the kitchen. 

“I fucking hate him,” you grumble as soon as the younger man disappears through the door.

Taehyung turns to face you, reaching for your hand again only to find that you have shoved both of them in the pockets of your coat. “He’s just over protective, that’s all. You should have seen him when he found out who his sister was dating. Once you get to know him, you’ll se—”

“I don’t want to get to know him,” you state matter-of-factly. “He’s an idiot who thinks I’m using you for fucking donuts. Honestly, who would risk falling in love for donuts? They’re good, but they’re not that good. You can buy donuts anywhere.”

Taehyung stiffens, mouth dropping open in shock as he takes in the full implication of your words. Did you love him too? You had never said anything even mildly similar to him. You didn’t talk about your feelings for him unless pressed and even then your answers were short. Confessions of desire and attraction were saved for intimate moments in your studio or his apartment, where no one but Taehyung could hear them. Even then, they were often cushioned between jokes that led to him scolding you, telling to stop pretending that you didn’t like him. You never seemed close to confessing love, but your words made it appear as though you had been in love with him all along. 

“Did you just… say you love me?” He questions quickly, mind still reeling. 

“Huh” You question, the confusion that washes across your features slowly melting away as you come to realize the implication of your words. It doesn’t surprise Taehyung when you mutter, “I didn’t say that,” but his heart drops to the bottom of his stomach anyway. The small flame of hope he carried in his heart extinguished momentarily, as he mentally kicked himself for getting his hopes up. He was lucky you were even talking to him again—a declaration of love was just ridiculous. Life wasn’t a hallmark movie. He didn’t know what he was thinking. 

Biting back his disappointment, Taehyung swallows before replying, “I misunderstood. That’s not even what you were talking about.” You blink slowly at his words, eyes shining as though you have something to say; however, you just end up biting your lip and casting your gaze down. “Just… please don’t even think about Kook, okay?” Taehyung pleads, wanting nothing more than to grab you in a hug or kiss your cheek to get the physical reassurance that things were completely okay between the two of you. Instead, he settles on asking, “Can I see you after work tonight? I get off at six and I can bring you some takeout.”

You break into a small smile, nodding your head once. “Bring a donut and some hot chocolate and you have a deal.”

.

.

You really like Taehyung.

It’s not a secret. Everyone knows it. You would write about him in all of your songs if you could—though, of course, you could never do such a thing. You didn’t want to subject Taehyung to that type of scrutiny, knowing all too well how many problems came along with dating a rapper when they weren’t waxing poetic about their relationships on tracks. People ate up those types of songs, only to place severe judgements on the rapper’s partner as though they were an expert. “You never talk about me in your songs,” he once told you, referencing a song called “Fiancé” that had been released by one of your friends. It was a typical Tuesday night date, taking place during closing time in Baking News as Taehyung mopped the floor around your feet. He taps your legs lightly with the edge of his shoe. “Isn’t that kind of weird?”

“It’s too much work,” you had replied, kicking your feet up so he could mop underneath them. He thanks you quietly, quickly getting to work so that you can lower your feet once more. “People are gonna read too much into it and make all of our lives a living hell. Just as Yoongi.”

“So you’re never gonna write about me?” He questioned jokingly, setting the mop to the side to hover over your seated form.

“I write about you,” you quickly retorted, craning your head up to look at him. He leans down and places a small peck on your lips, going in for a second with a small hum. “It’s just for my eyes and ears only.”

“Don’t you think I deserve to see?” He said, standing again to resume his task. From the kitchen, you hear the telltale sign of metal pans dropping. It’s followed by a loud, yet muffled “fuck” from Seokjin and the laughter is his girlfriend. 

“I don’t think you’ll like all the things I have to say about you, lover boy.”

“Hmm…” he hums in a mocking way, facing away from you as he works on a particular sticky patch on the floor. “I’m going to disagree with you there. I like everything about you, even the cheesy love songs you write about me.”

“Who said the songs I write about you are love songs?” You quip, making him turn to you quickly and point the edge of the mop at you accusingly.

“Stop pretending that you don’t like me!” 

You think you love Taehyung.

That is a secret. No one knows it. You would write about it in all of your songs if you were sure about it—sure that he would reciprocate your feelings, sure that he wouldn’t leave you high and dry when the going got tough and things had to happen that he didn’t like. But you weren’t sure; relationships were always a gamble and you knew the stressors would only grow when your career really took off. One wrong outfit choice had Taehyung turning into your exes right before your eyes. It made you wonder what would happen if you did the wrong collaboration or wrote the wrong lyrics. You tried your best to make it clear to Taehyung that you didn’t want to be in yet another awful relationship filled with fights and arguments, but it seemed like a real possibility regardless of your efforts. It was a tough pill to swallow.

And yet, as you stared at the lanky man seated on your couch, watching as he tried to sneak yet another picture of you wearing the custom, pink bunny ear headphones he got you for Christmas, you knew that you didn’t want to let him go.

“Put the phone away!”

“Just smile for me one time.”

“Stop.”

“I haven’t taken a picture of you in almost two weeks. My Instagram story is dying without. Let me take a picture.” He leans closer, laughing when you move to smack his phone on the floor, but miss.

You groan deeply, shaking your head at his antics. “It was not two weeks. You’re so goddamn dramatic.” You find yourself smiling for him nonetheless, legitimately laughing at him as he moves his phone around to catch you at different angles. After about 10 clicks of the camera shutter, you move to knock the phone away again. “Cut it out, Tae.”

“I’m not finished,” he whines out, though he still continues clicking away.

“Who died and made you paparazzi?”

“I’m better than the paparazzi. I’m your number one fan,” he murmurs, pushing your arms away from his phone. “You gotta get used to this, especially if you’re gonna be the number one rhyme killer in Korea.” He explains, bringing up a potential new tag Hoseok had come up with a few weeks ago.

“That’s more than enough for your Instagram story.”

He huffs in faux annoyance, leaning back on the love seat to scroll through all the pictures he took. “These aren’t even for my Instagram,” he reveals, tone still playful. “It’s for me only. I’m the only one who deserves to see you this cute. I gotta at least have that to myself.” You scoff loudly at this, anger filling your chest instantly. You know that he only means it as a joke, not realizing exactly what he was insinuating with his words—but it still stings, the wound from your previous fight not completely healed. “What’s wrong?” He questions, only to panic when you let out an annoyed grunt and turn around in your chair. It takes it a moment to click in his head, and then he’s sitting up, dropping his phone and pulling at your chair to try and turn you back around. “Baby, it was a joke. I promise, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just saying that I wasn’t going to put them on social media. Nothing more.”

“I didn’t know studio time had to be kept private too,” you reply sarcastically, planting your feet firmly on the floor to resist Taehyung’s actions.

“I didn’t mean that. Come here,” he says, pulling you with more strength until you’re facing him again. “Don’t be mad at me. You know how I feel about you. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.”

You shake your head, trying to remember Namjoon’s words and not start another argument. You fight to keep your voice level as you say, “Sometimes I think I know how you feel, but then you say things like that and I start to question your intentions.”

Taehyung is silent for a moment, eyes busily searching your face for something, though you cannot tell if he finds it. He reaches for both of your hands, cradling them in his gently as though they will break in any moment. “Don’t say things like that. You know my intentions and you know exactly how I feel.”

“I don—”

“I’m in love with you,” he interrupts you, squeezing your hands in his when he realizes what he’s confessed. You’re mildly shocked by his words, eyes widening like saucers. He takes your silence as rejection and starts to ramble. “If you don’t love me back, it’s okay. I’m not… you know I’ve been attracted to you for a long time, so of course I’d fall faster than you. But I can wait for you to fall in love with me too. I waited for months for you to even accept going on a date with me, so you know I’m patient. Just don’t question my intentions, I only want the be—” 

“If you love me, then why do you want to have me all to yourself?” You question, voice meek. 

He furrows his brows, irritation painting his features before they soften once more. “That’s not… I don’t want to keep you all to myself. That’s not even possible. You’re Kiddo,” he teases lightly, “Loved by everyone and belonging to no one.”

“But, obviously you want to keep certain parts of under wraps. For your eyes only, you know? And I just don’t get how you can say that you love me, but you want to control me like this.”

He sighs deeply, head falling forward as he admits, “It’s just… we don’t have anything, you know? We don’t have a single thing that we do that’s just our thing. Dates in the studio, hanging out in the bakery, watching old movies on my couch, even sex now—it’s all things we do other people too. And I know, I really know that your career comes first right now. I just sometimes want… more.”

You bite your lip, Namjoon’s words once again becoming prominent in your head. Removing your hands from Taehyung’s, you spin around in your chair to face your desk. Taehyung tries to stop you once more, his argument falling on deaf ears as you quickly grab the pink notebook sitting and hand it to him. “Look through it,” you order. 

He stares at the book in his hand, knowing exactly what it is, but still unsure as to why you gave it to him. “Baby, what’s in here?”

“You said you want more. There is it,” you answer, before turning back around to face your monitor. The sound of pages turning makes you anxious, so you slip your headphones on and load up a messy track that you had been having trouble with. Time passes by slowly and your heart can’t stop fluttering as you think about all of the pages he has to look through and all of the words he has to read. Taehyung is thorough. He’ll give each page the time it deserves, regardless of how nervous you feel. Time ticks on. You turn up the volume on your headphones.

You do not know for certain how many minutes have passed when your headphones are suddenly knocked off of your ears; all that you know is when you turn around to berate him for his act, his lips are covering yours in a harsh kiss. You only briefly return the kiss, pushing against his chest to get him off of you, though he only moves an inch away from your face. “You’re in love with me,” he accuses wryly, a big smile on his face. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing gently in delight.

“If you tell anyone I let you read that, I’ll kill you,” you respond, though you can’t get the tone of your voice to reflect your words. His happiness is contagious and you can feel yourself soften in his embrace. “I’m serious, Tae. No one is allowed to read that notebook.” Your lyric notebook was something you kept to yourself, only sharing a select few pages with those around you when you were going to lay down vocals. For your eyes and ears only. Sharing it in its entirety with Taehyung was already a big step, never mind what you actually had written in there.

“But, wait. What are the numbers for?”

“What numbers?” You feign confusion.

“The numbers on the last page of the book.” You roll your eyes at his words and he nudges his nose against yours. “No time for lies now, I already know that you’re in love with me.”

“Days without cigarettes,” you mumble. His smile somehow becomes even wider, so large that you think his face might split in two. “I swear to god, Taehyung, if you tell any of the guys about this, I’m gonna beat the shit out of you myself.”

“I love you and you love me and you write love songs about me,” he teases. He hoists you up to your feet, pulling you into his body and wrapping his arms around you. You follow his lead, burying your face in his chest. “You’re even quitting smoking for me. How did I get so lucky to have a woman who loves me so much?”

“Stop it,” you whine, face flushing with embarrassment.

“Stop pretending that you don’t love me,” he whispers, hands moving up to cup your face gently. The way he looks at you reminds you of your first date. It leaves you completely vulnerable. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“Donuts and hot chocolate and lyric notebooks. That’s our thing. Nobody else can share those with you or me. Deal?”

“Deal!” He agrees quickly, leaning down as though he’s about to kiss you, but stopping short just before his lips press against yours. “I knew you were a softy,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips before you can reply. You allow yourself to enjoy it. 

.

.

#taehyung scenarios #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #v scenarios #v fluff #bts scenarios #bts fluff #v x reader #au: baking news #sailor belle writes

[infinitylikeme]

Tw ed

Guess what! My mom told me that it looked like I was loosing weight and congratulated me and said I looked better! I mean it kinda hurt because I mean she’s right I do “look better” but why does that have to do with how much I weight? Anyway as to keep spirits both high and low I will post what I would say it the one thing/event that happened that really fueled the start of my ed and also a reminder I do to keep me in check. Here’s the scene

I believe it was 8th grade year, 1 year after developing an Ed. Beginning of the school day on a Wednesday we were waiting for our first period teacher to get there as we were eating breakfast in the cafeteria. We had gym first period and it was by the cafeteria so that’s just where our class sat.

Anyway I was sitting across from my friend which wasn’t my normal seat, I had been having issues with this one girl in my class that sat there and I thought by sitting there it would get her to idk go away. Well she came in a bit late and saw me in her seat and went to sit down the table. Now it was a pretty small class so whatever conversation you were having everyone could hear. This is the dialogue that went with this scenario

“Hey guys, I’m just gonna sit down here cause some fat ass is sitting in my seat.”

Now number one I had already been in a full blown ed relapse st that point and number two she wasn’t even trying to keep it down. Everyone laughed and looked down at my friend and I. I got so upset I literally left (the teacher wasn’t there) and I went to my favorite teachers class and sat outside of it and cried. She wasn’t there that day so the door was locked and I was in a inclosed hallway that nobody would be walking into so it was okay.

The absolute worst part is that my friend did nothing about it. She sat there not saying anything and when I went away she didn’t come for me nor did anyone else. That’s actually what drove our fight and ultimately made me loose my best friend.

Not only did this girl hurt me so deep I remember it and have flash backs to it but she also made me loose my best friend and honestly I will never be able to forgive her or myself for what happened. All in one stupid sentence.

Anyway story time over here’s my stats of the day

Cals I have no clue

Probably about 90-120 in posicles

200-300 in chips forgot to count the amount of chips

500-1000 in dinner. I’d keep better track but my mom made it and I wasn’t home to see exactly what was used

I’d say in total 1500 cals but I guess the scale can prove that true or false tomorrow. Well I guess I’m about 2 1/2 hours cause I’m like really late to bed rn.

#ed #twed #edtw #relapse #cw disordered eating #tw eating things #anamia #ana #mia #selfharm #self harm #cvtting #cutting #cvt #cut #s3lf harm #s3lf h4rm #thinspo #bonespo #thighspo #skinnyspo #twsh #sh #bullying #trauma

[failbaby]

The Dilaudid Arc: getting it right

A while ago, I offered to make a post about how to more realistically portray abuse of IV opiates for people who want to write about Spencer Reid, and a few people asked me to do it and then I didn’t, so here it is now!

Disclaimer: I’m not judging anyone’s writing or telling you what to do—these are just some compiled facts for people aiming for more accuracy!

Basics: what is an opioid, and why do people abuse them?

An opioid is an extremely addictive drug that alters a user’s brain’s dopamine (“reward”) center. Using opiates intravenously (IV), or injecting, means that the drug will reach the brain more quickly than it does when smoked or ingested.

At first, a user is chasing the euphoria that comes from the first dose, but it quickly becomes necessary to take the drug to feel “normal,” as the brain comes to rely on the drug for dopamine. Over time, tolerance increases, and more of the drug is needed to produce a high.

Tip #1: Relapses are likely (but become less likely over time).

The reason I put this first is because it’s a very common mistake, and it’s one that can actually contribute to harmful stigma.

A person addicted to opioids will most likely not stay sober on the first attempt. Sadly, 90% of opiate users will relapse at some point on their journey to recovery. It’s worth noting that most of these relapses occur early on in sobriety, and chances of relapsing are fairly low after 2-3 years.

The odds that someone using intravenous opioids could, with the right amount of love, just set down the needle and never use again are extremely low. Addiction is a sickness of the brain that requires treatment.

Tip #2: What is a [heroin, dilaudid, oxy etc] high like?

It IS: euphoric, relaxing, “sleepy,” freeing, “happy,” “chill,” “lovely,” or tranquil. It’s mellow. It can make a miserable situation feel balmy and wonderful. This is why it’s so appealing to Spencer after his abduction—it’s an escape from his trauma and pain.

It is NOT: hyperactive, hallucinogenic/ an “upper” in any other capacity. It does not work the same way as MDMA or coke. Being high on an opioid does not impair judgement the same way being drunk might, or make a person shaky and restless the way meth might.

An opioid will also NOT leave a hangover!

Tip #3: What is withdrawal like?

Withdrawal from opioids is painful and difficult. Many long-time addicts only use to avoid the dreaded withdrawal symptoms. It is very, VERY difficult to go through withdrawal without help, and addicts are often given medication to help with the pain.

Symptoms include:

- Forceful vomiting

- Painful abdominal cramping

- Muscle pain

- Sweating

- Paranoia and severe anxiety

- Insomnia

Withdrawal typically sets in about 12 hours after the last dose.

Tip #4: other considerations

- HIV/AIDS risk is very high in IV drug users. How might he manage this?

- Overdose is common, as the amount of drug needed to get high increases over time. Overdoses are often deadly, but can be treated fairly easily with Narcan. A careful addict like Spencer might keep Narcan in the house in case of an incident.

- Collapsed veins are very common in IV drug users.

- It can be difficult to orgasm while high on an opioid.

- Drugs bought on the street may be laced, resulting in other complications.

- Injections are very painful.

- Injecting drugs can result in abscses, track marks, infections, and swelling.

I hope this all helps!! Happy angst, friends.

#oc #characters #drugs tw

[givemewritingorgivemedeath]

An Analysis Series Pt. 2: Dancing with the Devil... The Art of Starting Over: Prelude

**TRIGGER WARNING**

This post contains language depicting addiction, drug use, trauma, sexual abuse, and rape which may be triggering for some. Please feel free to skip.

I have decided to do a reaction and slight analysis of Demi Lovato's new album Dancing with the Devil... The Art of Starting Over. It was released on April 2nd at midnight.

I will be doing the Prelude (first 3 songs) in this post. Then I will likely do The Start of Starting Over 4 songs at a time. This will be to avoid overly long posts. For some background on Demi Lovato or for a quick analysis of her Dancing with the Devil music video, you can read the first part of this series.

Dancing with the Devil... The Art of Starting Over (Prelude)

Track 1: Anyone

While Demi wrote "Anyone" before her overdose, she mentions in her docuseries that, ironically, this song describes exactly what she was feeling when she was in the hospital AFTER her overdose in July of 2018.

For me, this is almost the sequel to "Sober" released in April 2018. In "Sober", Demi admits that she is no longer sober and has been drinking alcohol; she mentions that it is becoming a problem and that she will be getting help. However, we know this didn't go to plan. In fact, after the song's release, Demi began singing "Sober" on the "Tell Me You Love Me" tour that she was on prior to the overdose. Days before her overdose, Demi "forgot" the last words of the song during a show, including "I promise I'll get help"; her docuseries alludes to the idea that she didn't forget, but was in a dark place and wasn't sure if she would be getting help from her addiction.

"Anyone" describes the state of mind that led to her relapse. She feels totally alone; she is desperate and needs help from a higher power, but she feels even God has abandoned her - "So why the fuck am I praying anyway?". She doesn't feel like she has any control of her life - "Nobody's listening to me". Demi is miserable (for many reasons discussed in the album and docuseries.) She also discusses how she used to crave everyone's attention, but she realized that what she was looking for is affection. Looking for attention only made her feel worse about herself, whether the attention is positive or negative. As she goes on press junkets about recovery and happiness, she is the most miserable she has ever been - "I feel stupid when I sing". During a show on her "Tell Me You Love Me Tour" (different from the one discussed earlier), you can hear Demi getting choked up about how important it is to live your truth and get help if you need it. At the time, the audience did not know she was no longer sober. At a show closer to the time of the overdose, Demi mentions that she no longer wants to talk about mental health during the show. While she justifies by saying that she has done it way too much, her docuseries mentions that she felt like a hypocrite preaching through a crowd about this while she was spiraling and unhappy.

She continues: Demi tries to wish on stars and pray to God to help her with this moment, but she doesn't seem to find the strength anywhere...

Track 2: Dancing with the Devil

This song, while describing the day of the overdose and how she felt, is in the perspective of the person that survived the overdose and is recounting the events. This is unlike "Anyone", which is in the perspective of before or during the overdose and is just describing her current feelings.

Verse and Chorus 1:

"Dancing with the Devil" starts with her mentioning that she started drinking, saying that if she only drinks a little, she will be okay. She didn't actually believe this, but she used this to justify her drinking because she thought that maybe she could control herself. We know from the docuseries that Demi relapsed on her sobriety because she didn't know why she was sober anymore given how miserable she still was even without the drugs. She did not mention her drug use to friends, but she did tell them that she would only do light drinking; she said she wanted to try what other people her age did, especially since she had yet to turn 21 before she got sober in 2012. We know now that she picked up the bottle and pills because she was dealing with emotional pain, not because she wanted to have a little fun; the push to drink is a big indicator of how things may turn out, especially for someone with a history of addiction.

Demi continues to try to convince others: "not like I want to do this every night." She justifies starting to drink again by saying that she's been good for 6 years and has earned the chance to have one glass of red wine. "Feels like it's worth it in my mind" could be describing that she thinks that some alcohol is worth it given what she's been going through emotionally (and physically with her eating disorder). We are explicitly told that all this is BS, and she KNOWS that it is when she says "I told you I was okay, but I was lying." She knows that this coping habit is the enemy and that she is gambling with her life and the health of her soul by falling into her addictions.

Verse and Chorus 2:

Demi begins to sing about drugs here instead of just alcohol. While verse 1 seems to be her convincing the people around her that the end of her sobriety is okay, this verse finds her trying to convince herself. We know this because her friends did not know that she was doing any kind of hard drugs during the months leading up to the overdose. She mentions how one "white line" can quickly turn into smoking a glass pipe. This verse also gives us a look at the types of drugs she is using: "tinfoil" can be used for drugs like heroin and methamphetamines. We also know from "white line" and "glass pipe" that she could also be using cocaine. Demi admits in her docuseries that she used crack-cocaine, heroin, and more during this period.

Demi continues by saying that doing these drugs already almost got the best of her. This is not the first time she thought she was going to die from doing too many drugs; Demi has come out to say that she was surprised she did not overdose the first night she relapsed after mixing drugs that she had never even done before. It is common for addicts to turn to even heavier drugs after relapse from sobriety. In the song, she says she hopes she doesn't reach the end of her life but continues doing drugs in her "twisted reality, hopeless insanity". The chorus has even more meaning after this verse: "It's so hard to say "No"" to drugs for a former addict trying to just do a "little".

Ending:

Demi mentions how she truly thought she was going to be able to stop once she started if she wanted to without getting carried away, but she knows that she is wrong and in trouble. She, again, mentions God. But this time, instead of wondering why she should even pray to Him for help, she apologizes to Him for giving in to her addictions again. Once again, she prays that he will help her find "better days" without the pain that brought her TO her drugs and the pain brought BY the drugs. She sings one final chorus, ending on and emphasizing that she is still struggling with her addiction: "It's so hard to say 'no' when you're dancing with the devil."

Track 3: ICU (Madison's Lullabye)

This track gives me so many emotions. Demi dedicated to her baby sister as a promise that she will always be there for her. It is in the perspective of Demi when she woke up in the ICU following the overdose. She heard someone calling out to her but didn't know who it was, not even recognizing the voice. Doctors realized that Demi was legally blind after suffering from 3 strokes caused by the overdose, and she wasn't able to see her little sister Madison sitting at the side of her hospital bed. For a little background, back when Demi went to rehab the first time when she was 18 years old, she was told that she would not be able to see Madison if she didn't get herself together. It ironically came full circle: she did not stop doing drugs and ended up literally unable to see her sister.

Verse 1 and Chorus:

The song starts with Demi saying that she never wanted Madison to "watch [her] fall from grace" or relapse and overdose again. "Fall from Grace" normally refers to losing admiration and respect for someone; this is the last thing Demi wants. Demi always wanted to be better for her sister; Madison says that even with all the things Demi has been through, Demi is her role model and hero. Still, Demi's lyrics mention that she wants Madison to be able to look up to her and make sure that Madison doesn't fall into the same patterns of addiction that she did. She also wants Madison to know that she wants to be by her side and be her support no matter what, even though she struggles with being a "good big sister".

The chorus begins, and you hear Demi's promise to Madison explicitly:

Tuck your hair behind your ear Until you fall asleep I'll say a prayer and keep you near You're always here with me I promise, I'll be there, don't worry

Demi mentions that Madison is always there for her, so she intends to do the same. She continues saying that she "was blind" but now she can see clearly. This is both her saying that she was wrong to make the choices that she made and that she lost her vision. She follows that up by saying "but now I see clearly, I see you." This could allude to the fact that Demi has regained her vision, though she still has blind spots. It could also mean that she recognizes where she failed and how clearly she can see how much her sister means to her and how amazing she is/how much she is to lose. The "I see you" is also, obviously, a play on ICU (or intensive care unit, the hospital unit Demi was in after the overdose.)

Verse 2, Chorus 2, and Outro:

This begins with Demi saying that although she sees herself in Madison, she knows that Madison is strong enough to not fall into Demi's destructive patterns. She believes that not only can Madison "overcome anything in [her] way" and "change the world", but she can continue to give Demi strength. She begins her promise/chorus again after telling her that Madison will always be her baby sister.

"ICU (Madison's Lullabye)" ends with Madison telling her big sister "I love you, Demi". We hear Demi respond: "I love you, too". And then in the remix, you can hear my sobbing and crying into the ether because I am so fucking emotional right now.

Side note: the Visualizer for this song is beautiful. It contains blurry and double-vision-like images of the ICU, brain images, and more, representing Demi's damaged vision following the strokes.

#demi #demi lovato #dancing with the devil #dancing with the devil the art of starting over #the art of starting over #anyone #ICU #madison's lullaby #madison lovato #i see you #demetria #ddlovato #demetria devonne lovato #demi dwtd #dwtdtaoso #dwtd #taoso #d7 #lyrics #documentary #docuseries #music video #demilovato #madison lullabye

[writingpuddle]

“Don’t you ever get lonely?” Nicky asked, digging in his pack for a chocolate bar. To their left, the cliff dropped away precipitously, sheer granite cliffs like sentinels at the end of the world.

Neil stared at Nicky. “No,” he said.

“What, never?”

Neil looked out across the sweeping vista of mountains before them. A speck that could have been a hawk or a raven or a sparrow spun against the sky, too small and distant to judge. He’d stood in the middle of busy cities; he’d gone to school with hundreds; he’d even tried out for a track and field team once. He’d been surrounded by people, and he had been so ferociously lonely it had been like a knife in his chest.

“No,” he said, because he didn’t know how to explain—didn’t even want to, really. He’d felt more alone back in the so-called real world than he’d ever felt in the wilderness, miles from any other person. When there was no one around, there was no one to miss.

~~~The Long-Distance Hiker AU (A Bullet Point Fic)~~~

So after Neil’s mom died he kinda of ghosted around for a while and eventually ended up in a small hiking town in California

He met a bunch of thru hikers and figured, hey, my dad probably won’t find me if I’ve fucked off into the wilderness

So he starts hiking

And pretty soon he realizes it’s the best thing he could imagine

He spends all summer in the mountains and when winter rolls around he finds a temporary job in a skiing town working in a second hand gear shop

He’s an ultralighter in the most accidental sense possible

His gear is weird and cobbled together and his shoes are held together with dental floss

He sleeps under a tarp with a down blanket and a thin foam mat and he’ll eat the same shit day in day out without even registering it while he covers frankly obscene distances every single day

It basically gives Kevin an ulcer

Kevin’s an ultralighter, but in the stuck up, rich bitch way; his gear is probably worth thousands of dollars and he’ll lecture anyone who listens about ripstop nylon and is super snobby and elitist about who is a so-called “real” thru hiker (hint: anyone who doesn’t do it his way isn’t a real thru hiker)

(don’t worry he’ll get smacked around a little by people like Dan and stop being such a little bitch about it but he grew up rich so even though it might’ve been shit living with Riko he really doesn’t always take into consideration the context of how much fucking money gear costs when he’s preaching about ultralighting)

(yes I’m taking out my dislike for pretentious rich ultralighters on him, okay, but the difference is he’ll have character growth versus the people I met are probably still being preachy and self-important to this day)

Andrew’s like the exact opposite

His pack weighs like seventy pounds and he’ll pull a six-inch knife (a gross misuse of smart gear weight management) at anyone who comments

He has a completely contained single person tent that’s big enough to sit up in and a four-inch inflatable mattress

His sleeping bag is rated to like -20 even when he’s hiking in the summer

Nicky swears he once saw him pull a full-sized chocolate cake out of his backpack three days down the trail and everyone says that’s stupid and made up but secretly think its totally true

Andrew likes to hike alone but somehow he’s never more than a day away from Aaron and Nicky and when he keeps showing up near them it gets harder and harder to pretend like he doesn’t actually care about them

Nobody says anything, obviously, but Nicky gets a little teary when he starts to notice the pattern

It was Nicky’s idea; in this universe Erik got him into hiking when he was in Germany so he got the cousins into it as a bonding exercise and then it turned out it was the best family activity they had ever found

This is several years after they graduated and they’ve scrounged together enough time and money to hike the Pacific Crest Trail

Now the upperclassmen:

So Stephanie Walker is a trail angel: one of those people who lives near a long trail and provides snacks and rides and somewhere to stay and basically helps out anyone who comes by with whatever’s going on; she’s pulled a lot of people out of frankly dangerous situations and she’s not afraid of anything the trail has to offer

So Renee finds herself and her faith while living this life of meeting new hikers every day and it’s almost inevitable that she starts to hike and find solace in the wilderness

Allison is one of those Wild types: she’s done some hiking (much to her parents’ chagrin) but she’s never done a thru trail or even much overnighting before, but she’s ready to throw herself into it and doesn’t care how dirty she gets

She totally carries a tiny spa package though

The other women are very skeptical because they take pride in being free from societies expectations and make up and shaving but they come around after Allison pulls it out one time when they’re seven days into a ten day section and gives them face masks and they all have a little pedicure pampering session (so, so needed when your feet are being beaten and bruised by hard terrain all day)

She has a lot of new, expensive gear and is super touchy about people trying to help her (because a beautiful woman absolutely gets people trying to “help” all the time and it’s infuriating and condescending) but she learns to accept help from her closest friends

She was showing off near the beginning of the trail drinking with a bunch of guys and probably got too sloshed trying to act tough (alcohol hits you waaaay harder at high elevations dude, if you’re not expecting it you can get Fucked Up really fast)

It’s Seth who realizes things are getting out of control and pulls her out before the guys can do anything shitty which is how their friendship and eventually their relationship gets started

They piss everyone off with their constant breaking up and getting back together on the trail, sometimes hiking together for days and then splitting up and going to hike with other people but they find a lot of healing out there in the woods

Seth’s mom is totally dismissive and condescending of his hiking, she thinks it’s a stupid waste of time, but she thinks everything he does is a stupid waste of time so at least when he’s out there without cell service he has an excuse to not respond to her

Now Dan

Dan’s trailer trash, right

She’s got no fucking cash but she has this dream in her head to hike the PCT and she’s going to fucking well do it

Her gear is probably most similar to Neil’s except where his is a mess of weird priorities and held together by spit and twine

Hers is meticulously planned

It’s cheap, some of it’s over forty years old, but it’s hers

It’s probably the only stuff in the world that’s actually hers

She accumulated it over about four years, hitting all the second-hand gear events, saving up every penny, packing and repacking and writing everything out in great detail until David Wymack got wind of her plans at a gear event

He’s one of those guys who hiked the PCT thirty years ago back before anyone knew what it was except instead of feeling superior about that it means he knows exactly how much impact experiencing the wilderness can have for disenfranchised people

He approaches Dan and offers to sponsor her hike

She’s resistant at first; she planned this hike, she got all the stuff together, she was going to do it without anyone’s help

But he comes back and says he just wants her to write about her experiences and publish it on his website

He’ll pay her for the work, of course

And she wavers and finally caves because this will move her plans up by about two years if she can make money while she’s hiking instead of having to hoard up enough cash to take six whole months off

Her blog posts are a huge hit

She doesn’t preach about how the mountains saved her, or get too metaphorical about hiking or anything like that

She just talks about the real, raw experience of hiking

The friendships, the trials, the triumphs

The infuriating people whose mental image of the hiking community doesn’t include poor black girls who grew up in a trailer park, who say she’s an inspiration like they actually mean something else

She talks about the days that she flies up the mountains and the days that she can barely drag herself out of her tent and the day she realizes that Allison and Renee, these women she thought could not be more different from her, are the best friends she’s ever had in the world

And she’s takes fucking amazing pictures

She’s also very determined not to have a trail romance

That’s stupid and cliché

Look that guy Matt might be hot but she’s not interested

He’s clearly working through some stuff and she’s not here to be some guys savior or whatever

So Matt then

His mom helped him get sober a couple years ago and he’s been struggling with it ever since

She got him into hiking as an outlet and a healthy hobby and he took to it like a fish to water

He’s got legs for days and he doesn’t mind carrying a heavy pack, he can hike for hours without stopping

(The fact that he’s faster than her pisses Dan off a bit, but sometimes you gotta accept that you’ve got short legs and just hike your own hike, there aren’t any prizes for speed)

He relapsed again a couple months before his hike started and he and Randy weren’t even sure if he was going to be able to do it but he’s damned well going to try

So anyway

Pretty much everyone is trying to actually hike the PCT except Neil

He drives everyone bonkers

His motivation isn’t really about the trail so much as staying out in the wilderness where there are no gangsters to murder you

So he just does whatever he wants and keeps showing up at random points

He’s technically got one of the thru hiker permits but he frequently goes off on side trails not on the PCT and ends up hiding out in the woods so rangers won’t find him

He’ll just hitchhike straight through boring sections or anywhere that you pass through too many towns where he’d rather not be remembered

He keeps coming back to the PCT but it’s more like it’s a rough guideline of where to go than an actual route he’s taking

He’s got his natural colouring back because who’s dying their hair or wearing fucking contacts on the trail?

But also

Who would ever associate a runaway mafia kid with a guy with overgrown hair and a stained t-shirt who’s sitting serenely on a mountain pass in a photo on David Wymack’s website?

Nobody

That’s right kids, Nathan doesn’t have a role in this one because he doesn’t find Neil

Maybe he gets killed in a shoot out or something and some other gangster steps up and takes over, and in the shuffle Neil’s just kinda forgotten

Maybe he finds out months later and he just stares at the computer in shock because he should have known, shouldn’t he? He should have felt it when his father died

He should have realized that he was free

That happens later though

Who fucking cares what Riko’s doing honestly

Kevin has somehow attached himself to Andrew and is driving him up the wall with advice to improve his hiking/base weight/distance/etc and he sees this guy (Neil) who regularly covers like thirty or forty miles a day (obscene!) and is like YES this guy is my people!

Except when he starts talking to Neil he realizes he’s this total weirdo who doesn’t even have a cook set he just eats cold food (a common enough thing among ultralighters, but not like this. Oh god, not like this)

Neil’s just sitting there gnawing on a pack of uncooked ramen like a fucking animal

And he’s not! Even! Hiking! Properly!

You’ll never finish the trail if you hike like this!

Neil just gives him a blank look

He’s got no interest on getting on some “verified” list of people who hiked the PCT, he just likes hiking

Andrew likes him

I mean obviously he despises him what the hell is with that janky ass setup but also he’s so unconventional and unapologetic how could Andrew not be into that?

They’re the kind of people who give wilderness rescue personnel grey hair, but for completely opposite reasons

Neil keeps running into them because even though he covers so much ground every day, his meandering route means he doesn’t actually move down the trail very fast

They’ll be like wait weren’t you like a week ahead of us and he’s like oh yeah I heard about this cool waterfall and took a sixty mile side trail to visit it and nearly ran into a momma bear with two cubs, it was awesome

And they all start to grow on him, and each other, almost accidentally

Look none of them are out there romanticizing the trail as some kind of magical place where the problems of the real world disappear and the people are somehow more pure and true or whatever

People are people and they bring their issues wherever they go

But there is a paring down

When your daily concerns are just mileage and shoes and food and weather, a lot of other stuff fades into the background

And well the truth is a lot of people are on those trails to work through stuff

And they find each other

Gradually, without even really noticing

They team up in June, groups of three or four with crampons and ice axes to get over the Sierra’s.

Neil was planning to just do side hikes and wait for the snow to melt—he isn’t so reckless he wants to go over the ice alone, but Kevin insists he join them and for the first time he hikes in a group with Kevin and the cousins all together.

It’s weird

He’s not used to people talking to him when he’s hiking and he frequently doesn’t respond and it’s not because he’s being rude he’s just so focussed on what he’s doing and what’s around him that he literally doesn’t hear them

And then

Nicky slips

It’s not his fault, they did nearly everything right (Kevin may be a pretentious ass, but he does know his shit) but sometimes shit just happens for no reason

And they’re at the edge of the ice sheet so Nicky’s just untying himself from the rope that links them together, he’s not even moving, and the snow beneath him shifts and he doesn’t even have time to scream before he’s hurtling down the snow below the trail towards the cliff at the bottom of the ice sheet

Neil doesn’t even hesitate

He dives after him, ice axe in one hand like a fucking gladiator and gets his arm wrapped around Nicky’s waist

He slams the ice axe into the snow and it drags behind them, and it looks like it’s not going to catch, and the edge is getting closer and closer—

Until the axe catches something, and Nicky and Neil lurch to a halt, clinging to each other, hanging off of Neil’s one arm and the axe.

Neil looks up and sees Andrew, Aaron and Kevin in various places on the slope above them, their axes dug in and long gouge marks in the snow beneath their heels, strung together by a ropeline that’s still attached to Neil’s waist

That rope is probably the only thing that slowed them down enough that Neil could stop them without ripping his arm clean off

It’s hardly a by-the-book rescue, and in fact it was pretty stupid, but they’re okay, they’re okay, that’s all that matters

That night they light a fire down by a lake and Nicky cries on Aaron’s shoulder and Andrew keeps clenching his fists because he’s never felt so helpless in his life and it was Neil that jumped, not him

He knows that he was at the far end of the line and he would’ve made it worse if he had, but doing nothing while Neil risked his life to save Nicky

They don’t really talk about it

But you kind of can’t help being friends after that

And even after they’re out of the high mountains and back on solid trails Neil keeps tabs on them

And Nicky befriends the others and without even meaning to they start to develop a sort of loose trail family vibe

They’re not hiking together all the time like some of the groups they meet, but they check on each other all the time and wait up in resupply villages and bond over firepits and shitty hot chocolate mixes and swap tips on how to keep the butt-chafing at bay

Neil sticks to the outskirts, mostly, but he starts to open up a little, in fits and spurts, tiny non-specific things that wouldn’t even register to most people but that this particular group knows means more than that

He’s slowing down, too, sometimes hiking entire days with people and covering half his usual distance even when there’s no cliffs or glaciers threatening him

He likes hiking with Andrew the most, though

Because neither of them are big talkers when they’re hiking and Andrew’s pack might be absurdly heavy but he’s got legs the size of tree trunks and endurance to match, so he might not be fast but he can outwalk half the people on the trail by sheer relentlessness

They both like to camp up high, near treeline (so Neil can set up his tarp) and in the places that it’s legal they’ll start a small fire and Andrew will loan Neil his pot so he can actually cook his fucking ramen for once and sometimes they’ll watch the Milky Way rise and share secrets under the open sky, not looking at each other so they don’t break the illusion, and sometimes they won’t say anything at all but it’s okay, because they’re saying nothing together.

It’s nice

It’s maybe more than nice

The summer draws to a close and Neil is starting to realize that he doesn’t want it to

He never wants the hiking season to end but this time it’s different

This summer has been perfect

And he knows deep in his bones that once they leave the trail things will change

The others have lives to return to, and Neil…

The trail is all he has

And if he’s barely hiking alone at all these days, well, who’s going to call him out on it?

The others like having him around because he stops them from getting too fixated on the Trail to see the trail

He still takes side trips but now sometimes people will come along and he’ll stand at the base of a canyon staring up at the glossy white walls and Dan will snap a photo for her blog and smile, because the PCT is just a line on a map, but the hike is all of them; together

He’s hiking with Andrew in September when a storm hits, this time vicious

Neil huddles under his tarp in resignation

Storms suck, he always gets wet, no matter how much he lowers the tarp, but he’s used to it; he just waits it out

But it’s just getting worse

Hail lashing at the tarp and pummelling the ground and maybe for once he regrets camping so high up

And Andrew has to shout to be heard but finally Neil realizes he’s offering to let Neil come into his tent

You’re going fucking freeze, just get in here

Neil goes

It’s weird

It’s instantly weird

The tent is not built for two people, so they’re both sitting cross legged with their heads ducked to not press against the roof

The storms probably not going to let up soon, Andrew says

Yeah, Neil says.

Andrew sighs

Lie down, he says, and Neil does, and Andrew lies down next to him, shoulder to shoulder

It barely works, only because neither of them are very big people

Neil’s pack is outside wrapped in his tarp and all he has is his damp down blanket but he’s not cold anymore, not with Andrew bundled up in his ridiculous sleeping bag right next to him

The storm rages for nearly two days and what passes between them in that tent, nobody knows

If they’re barely ever seen apart after it, well. You only see people so often on the trail. It could easily be a coincidence

And if Neil doesn’t even set his tarp up on rainy nights anymore, well. They never camp near other people anyway, so who’s to know?

In early October the snow blows in, blocking the route to the finish.

They drift around a resupply village for almost two weeks, waiting for the trail to reopen, but finally even Kevin accepts that it isn’t going to

After all of that, none of them are going to finish the trail

It’s a disappointment—of course it is. For most of them, the end of their trip is now a nondescript exit into a village, no fanfare, no closure; they didn’t even know they were done for days

Still, it’s not so bad

They’re all together

Allison suggests Vegas, but they all laugh it down; they wouldn’t even know how right now, bearded and hairy and ravenous as they are

They go to South Carolina instead

It’s not really even discussed that they’ll stay together, they just all go; Allison hosts them at her resort and they laugh at the incongruous weirdness of seeing each other in real clothes, and it’s different, but it’s also okay

They stay for another two weeks, and they don’t hike another fucking inch

We should try the Continental Divide Trail sometime, Dan says

Her blog is so popular now that she’s got sponsorships from more than just Wymack waiting for her

She could make a career out of hiking and blogging and doing gear reviews and it’s a dream she’d never even realized she wanted until she had it

And if she accidentally fucked up and ended up with a hot trail boyfriend? Well, nobody’s perfect

And he has a great butt

(she has photos of it on her blog, from when they jumped into a glacier lake naked back in August)

Everyone is jealous

How about that trek in Iceland? Matt suggests

Or the whats-it-called in New Zealand, Allison says

Oh, I bet there’s some good ones in Europe! Nicky says. You guys can all meet Erik!

And it’s going to be different, but it’s not going away, and Neil feels calm in a way he never has at the end of a hiking season before

Eventually everyone has to start making plans to return to their lives, and jobs, and Neil sneaks out to the back of the house to sit in crisp fall air and watch leaves spiral down out of the trees

Andrew follows him

They sit together, watching the moon rise over the hills, and when Andrew asks Neil to come home, Neil says yes

#me? coping with my inability to go hiking by writing headcanons? its more likely than you think! #aftg headcanons #aftg au #andreil #bulletpoint fic #my writing #hiker au #gratuitous descriptions of hiker life #found family #this is like 3.5k idk man #this is very self indulgent lol

[rosy-wooyoung]

thank you, really.

this is my equivalent of “reblog if you’ve made a friend on tumblr”, because I’ve made a lot of them actually!

since the end of the year is approaching, i wanted to express my gratitude to my lovely mutuals and my followers. I know, 2020 has been hard for all of us, I had some thoughts at some point that I wouldn’t be able to survive this hell of a year. but here i am, sad, exhausted and still healing, but at least i’m here. i’m alive. i’m as healthy as my body allows me to be. 

it’s hard for all of us, the virus forcing us to stay at home, not caring if our household is toxic. alongside my health issues, i also have my entire family who seems to be against me, so i’m fighting on my own against the world. against them, my acquaintances, my relatives, and other people who think it’s funny to point out one’s mental / physical issues. fortunately, thanks to tumblr, i’ve found a safe place to go to and be myself. thanks to tumblr, i managed to find for a few months people that appreciate me, despite the hateful anons. 

those people, i wanna thank them. i’ve mentioned them already in my account anniversary, but i think they deserve a little bit more appreciation than just a mention. you guys, no matter how exaggerating you think i might sound, you kept me sane and on track. i’ll try my hardest to be the one to reach out first and communicate more, i really want to keep on talking with all of you. i wish everyone reading this to be happy and healthy, as well as a better year ❤

i promise to come back here, but for now, i have to many serious things going on in my personal life that I don’t feel like existing. but hopefully it’s temporary, maybe see you soon!

kind words are below the cut 💕🦋

@atbzkingdom : dee, oh my dee. i don’t know for how long we’ve been talking, but thank god i found you. i still remember when you commented on my pirate captain! hongjoong story, i was so happy and giggly, and i was even happier when we started talking. you listened to me, allowed me to vent, and you don’t know how relieved i felt whenever i talked with you. you’re so caring and understanding, i felt like i could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge me. thank you for that, i love you very much!

@closer-stars stars! i can’t remember how we started talking, but i’m glad we did! again, your support and reassurance made me feel valid, and i felt like i received words from the older sister i’ll never have. i also absolutely adore the posts and the links you send me, they always manage to put a smile on my face. i love when you rant about your games and different characters, you sound so passionate, i love it. you write beautifully, i love reading what you do, it deserves way more recognition than you currently do. i love you stars!

@ateez-little-star jas. i don’t even have words to correctly express how i truly feel. you’re always here to defend me, support me, reblog and interact with everything i post on here. you’re so mature and precious, i was actually surprised when you told me you were younger than me. nothing changed regarding our friendship, i just love you even more. i started having this feeling of protecting you, as an older sister would do. what you do is beautiful for the writing community, you don’t realise how your actions have such an impact on creators. please ignore the haters, and don’t hesitate to reach out to me if they annoy you again, okay? love you bub. i promise to come back here happier and healthier.

@chrryhwa you little bub, i love you. we can talk about everything and nothing, you’ll always find a way to make me smile and somehow laugh, like you have some kind of power on me. i always smile when i see you in my dms or comments, you are extremely easy to talk to and talking to you feels nothing but right! please never change and let’s keep on chatting!

@trashlord-007 love! i can’t remember when we started talking (looks like my surgeries made be forget a lot of things) BUT despite our inconsistent interaction, i feel like we’re really close. we never had a proper conversation in dms or whatever, - until now, please don’t worry about me! - only by asks or reblogs, but you’re one of my moots that i feel the closest to. i love when you tag me in different games, it’s true that i might not answer them right away, but tbh i tend to forget about it and come back to it when you tag me in another one lol. thank you for acting like an older sister, you’re an amazing human being! i love you!

@barsformars rin!! i kind of feel bad for not talking with you more often, you’re really easy to talk to and i love when we message each other! you have the words to calm me down and make me think in a positive way, i can only thank you for that. you’re so caring and sweet, i wish my friends irl were more like you! as i’ve said many times before, your works are like Stars’, they need way more recognition because they’re hecking good!! way better than mine actually!! thank you for being an amazing moot and i promise to talk to you more in the future!

@tinkerbellwoo baby!! thank you, for everything. you were here when i really needed it, especially when my grandfather died. you were a good shoulder for me to cry onto and you really pushed me back up on my feet when i wasn’t doing great. then i started getting a bit better, but you helped me stay on track when i was about to relapse. you’re really caring and understanding, it felt like a bubble of oxygen to tell you about my issues. so thank you so so much, and i hope we’ll get to talk about happier events in 2021!

@hauuks ollie! i know we are moots but we don’t really interact, and that’s completely okay! i just wanted to say that i love you and your personality, as well as your cats!! they make me really happy and warm when i see them, i would have adopted a cat like creme or toma if my brother and dad weren’t allergic... when i see them on my dash, my day is automatically better, so thank you for sharing them with us!! i also love what you reblog, i’ve found tons of great content thanks to you! so thank you and i love you!!

@jeongyunhoed hi love! I know we didn’t really interact a lot but I really wanted to say thank you for mentioning me in your recommendation, it warms my heart all the time when i see you in my notifications! I wish you a beautiful, healthy year! 

#queued #season's greetings #personal #rosy's talk

[aalt-ctrl-del]

I'm still kind of in a state of shock still.

One of the case studies I keep an eye on contracted covid, and there was a death.

I have what my fam refers to "Case studies". People that vlog and post videos on youtube, I monitor their VAL status and health. We track the covid spread like a weather forecast, predicting which geographic regions - states to counties within - by these individuals. I usually go with those I have firm understanding of which state they live in.

As predicted, the white demographic seemed immune or resistant to the covid spread in early 2020 and many reached the end of 2020 without reporting covid infection. A few of my case studies I anticipated and called a "covid infection", which is me declaring they have covid and then observing. I have a 65% accuracy rate, because each and every vlogger I anticipated to contract covid, came forward with a "covid story" and talked about their experience. All of these vloggers were white - but given the disproportionately effects of a covid infection between white and poc, the poc demography likely took essential precautions to insure none infection.

I've made a lot of hypotheticals and assessments based on virology and biological comprehension, through how the immune response behaves under distress or to the initial threat based on how the body behaves on studied and current viruses - rabies, HIV, meningitis, ebola - these are a sample of my reference sheet. Viruses have simple behavior patterns - infect, replicate, eat, spread. They need host cells to replicate, which destroys the host cell and makes it incapable or fulfilling its functions for the body.

Today, with the wave of delta, I am seeing so many of our current case studies contract the delta variant. And become very sick. And one of my case studies, I have an extensive list of their VALs (values, attitudes, lifestyle), insisted it was the flu. The couple was very religious, qAnon believes, their fan base was swamped with qAnon supporters and overt christian/evangelic believers. Not vaccinated.

The partner was not high risk, retired, devoted religious. The partner did not last a week.

I've had a theory, not a new one but it pertains to delta as well. That covid does not grant immunity or antibodies to some individuals, or in the least will not grant reliable antibodies. This is based on individuals immune competency. But I have a theory that those that contracted covid, may be more susceptible to the delta variant.

And on that, I've mentioned it could take months, even years to recover fully from a covid infection. This sounds extreme or a dramatic assessment, but covid is not a flu bug, it is viremia. It damages the blood tissue, and purging viral presence from the vascular tract can be extremely difficult. That is why the vaccine is so critical to those that are long-haulers or have persisting symptoms. They may have viral presence persisting.

That was really my only fear when the vaccines were available to the public. Would long-haulers or those with previous covid infection have a relapse? Or would the vaccine trigger a reaction from the immune system.

Turned out, they were fine. Better when they got the vaccine. The vaccine didn't cure them, but it benefitted their health. Likely triggered their immune response to create antibodies that could deal with the infection. Time will tell how long it takes an extent of that infection to allow them a full recovery.

And now we are receiving these reports of these conservative radio voices, anti-vaxx, contracting delta and dying. As it was pointed out, faux news anchors and staff are ALL vaxxinated. These people, the anti-vaxx, are dying for a lie.

Really, there are still people out here "i DOnT knOW wHAts iN The VaCCinE, I wOnT pUt THaT iN My BoDy"

So you'll invite this completely unstable, feral, viremia virus into your blood to melt your lungs, give you liver failure, because nicki meningitis said her sisters cousins best-friend, heard through a crack in the wall from this guy in the bakery, that someone's fiancé got swol balls from a side-effect to the vaccine?

My mom and I, she's a retired nurse btw, we were reviewing reports from medical staff and the EMTs looking after the ones that fell into covid shock from delta. Their lungs developing pulmonay fibrosis, basically the lungs rot to death and fail. She said it's like ebola.

Delta a very aggressive and replicates at a much higher rate than covid original. As such, it's incubation prior to presented symptoms is a much short elapse, a week. A week. I can identify covid in someone a month in advance, because covid original has ot a very distinct time period before someone falls into covid shock. I can primarily identify those who are 'asymptomatic' - basically, anyone who has contracted covid original WILL present some symptom, that is why I refer to the healthy carrier as a myth.

Basically, a lot of white people contracted covid original but were not aware, and either fell into covid shock (presented symptoms) or their immune response was adequate enough they didn't realize they were ever sick, IF viable antibodies produced.

Delta doesn't do this. You get sick with it, YOU GET SICK.

So what we have right now, from my case studies, is we got a lot of white people who thought that the virus wasn't real or wouldn't infect them, either because they are healthy or low risk, or they already had a covid original.

But delta, for those not primed or unvaccinated, it absolutely destroys them. So many of these healthy people have gotten sick, most have made a recovery because they were actually healthy and had a legitimate immunity response to the delta before it overwhelmed them completely.

But so many of these people believe "I'm healthy and my immune system is good." Those really are not factors here. It DOES NOT MATTER how healthy you are or your immunity history with other viruses. Delta is a different variant, it is aggressive, volatile, and very hungry.

The life cycle of a virus, by a hypothetical example, demands that a strong and successful pathogen must alter itself - evolve - at least five times every six months. Every six months, because that is when we have classes resume, companies higher fresh staff or interns from college, people move and carry variants to new areas, where they begin to mingle and spread with a new population. Of the five variants that are produced, only one or two might be viable as replicators. The others die out due to insufficient population density, where they feed and grow, and thus build momentum.

As in the case of the delta variant. It is only highly successful as a spreader, because it is intentionally spread, and has a relatively wide window of movement before it's host becomes incapacitated. Due to misconceptions that the covid is a case of flu, or individuals have immunity after contracting covid original, the severity of the delta is dismissed. Usually in the case of the white demograph case studies.

So going on with this "I dOnT NeED vaCINnes iN Me," is absolute suicide. Unless for a legitimate medical reason your doctor is cautioning you about, you need to get vaccinated. The delta is dangerous and it is going to survive, and it will use you to do so. And when it is done with you, your body can no longer replicate its children, it will kill you.

And when it runs out of one food source, it will evolve and move on to the next. Right now there can be a new variant testing the waters for its infection rate, but we won't see it, not until February of the 2022.

I don't have sympathy for these people, but in a way I pity them. To be so disconnected from the world and our society, so defiant and assured of their immortality. All these people, like hannity, fucker calrson, mayo failor gangreene, THEY ARE VACCINATED. And they are fighting against vaccine mandates, or telling people "you don't need the vaccine. The Dems are trying to control you. The vaccine is bad."

They are misleading stupid, gullible, idiots that will gargle iodine or huff oxyclean. And I don't care. They are stupid worthless people, so hellbent on their religion and god saving them, they'll kill their own children to get into the fabled paradise. And they've fallen for these con people, praise them as their prophets. It's just so pathetic. I'm so tired of these news segments - "Guess wo got covid today!"

Probably a true believer with a saune hannity shrine.

They don't have to die. I am so tired of hearing how "stupid person died because anti-vaxx". It's pitiful. All it is now, is a waiting game. We can argue about vaccines and covid all day, but in the end, delta will be laughing in your lungs.

#delta #covid #long post #case studies #scientific data #in todays day and age i want to be wrong #for fucks sake I wish i was wrong #virus #vaccine #wear a FUCKING MASK #get vaccinated #talk to your doctor

[aryn-writes]

And we are back to over sharing to deal with my mental health

TW: Caps, Eating Disorders, Self-Harm, Depression, Anxiety

Venting Post!

I am so tired. And before you ask, yes I sleep over six hours every night. When I can, I sleep over 12. So my sleeping is not the issue.

The issue is that I have no fucking clue how to exist anymore.

I was initially trying to remain as the person that I was. They were a happyish ray of sunshine that was so good at helping people. And they did! People came to them daily to vent, get advice, or just letting them know that they are doing better. And I wasn’t doing great mentally then, but I was making improvements!

It has been over a year since we went into lockdown.

And you know, there have been good things that came out of the isolation.

I know I am nonbinary! And I was getting closer to dressing how I want!

But I am exhausted.

While I am at a healthy weight now, I have been slipping in and out of my ED habits. My family has also been continuously shitting on me for gaining weight. (if you’re curious, I am 5’4” [~162 cm] at 135 lbs [~61 kg]. I used to be at 100 lbs [45 kg]. And I would continuously dip back in double digits.) So, I have a fear that I’m going tot get bad again and that is just not something that I can handle at the moment.

I also can’t socialize, because holy fuck that shit is terrifying.

Like there are times when I can’t even talk to my family.

My closest friends? One of them messages me daily to make sure I’ve eaten at least one thing (which I agree, very kind, but I will explain why I don’t like it in a bit.) The other I haven’t talked to in months and it is so awkward when we try to talk. All the other people I used to consider close haven’t talked to me in a year, even after I would attempt to reach out to them.

I know that it is partially my fault; I am horrible at messaging and keeping conversations going is one of my weaker points, even in person. Along with that, I have been having depressive episodes more often that I care to keep track of, and I push people away and isolate myself during those times. So I get that it might be difficult to talk to me.

But there are people who I will reach out to, and they read the message and just don’t respond.

Like... I will literally say “hey! It’s been a while, how have you been?” (No response)

A week goes by

“I’m just checking in to make sure you’re doing alright” (left on read)

Another week

“Me and this person wanted to plan a small hang out online! She found this really cool website that we can play games, and we can use discord to chat. Wanna join?” (No response)

And it goes on.

For over seven months.

So if you have an active imagination and are prone to overthinking, you can imagine that my thoughts are “well shit. They just don’t like me and were only friendly bc i was dating him.” (Him being my ex boyfriend; we broke up a month into the quarantine.)

And so that kinda fucked with my anxiety even more.

I don’t blame them for not talking to me. The logical part of me understands that sometimes you just don’t respond, or maybe you forget or just don’t want to. I get that. But the part of me that has been overwhelming is pretty much like, everyone hates you and you’re a burden.

And it’s really hard to open up to the people you are close to when you feel this way.

So we come back to the close friend who checks that I’ve eaten.

He is wonderful, do not get me wrong. We became acquaintances around September 2019, and friends a few months after. At this time, I was dating my ex, who was an acquaintance to the close friend. (We are going to call the close friend Edward from here on out.)

At that time, I was struggling with my body image and my eating disorder. (Every year I go through a relapse and recovery, it fucking sucks and sometimes the relapse take over almost the whole year, but not the point right now.) One of his first memories of me is me having a panic attack because I ate a sandwich.

So during this pandemic, Edward has been messaging me to make sure I’m eating, because he doesn’t want me to get really bad again. Which is nice!

Except he doesn’t really understand mental illness.

He has been trying! Do not get me wrong, he does try. But his way of going about talking to me during a depressive episode is “Just don’t let it get to you” And “Be happy” and my favorite, “I don’t get why it’s so bad.”

😃🤡

Along with that, he gets incredibly upset when I don’t respond to his messages within like thirty minutes.

Keep in mind, I have been going through many, many depressive episodes and am constantly struggling to get out of bed and keep up with my school work. I have told him this. I have told him that sometimes I just cannot handle checking my messages and participating in conversation.

And a side note, I am in my last year of high school. Which mean I have online learning and in a few months I will be graduating. Which means I have a few classes I need to pass in order to graduate. If you keep up with most high schoolers, we have been getting an absurd amount of work with due dates every fucking day. That plus depression does not go well, and so I am very tired all the time, but since we have actual lectures instead of recordings, I keep my camera on for every single class because the teacher’s get sad if we don’t. And yes, there are classes where it is just me and the teacher with our cameras on. And yes I constantly disassociate during class and stop focusing because I forget to.

So yeah, it is fucking hard to just keep up with that, and socializing isn’t really something my brain sees as important because of the constant negative energy I receive when I do try to talk to people. So I have told him that as of late, it is just difficult to do much besides school, and things that produce any sort of serotonin or dopamine.

And he got upset that talking to him wasn’t making me happy!

Which, it does! Because he is a great friend! But he is so rude about the things involving my mental illnesses! And acts like he understands it better because he is in a psychology class! So in this state, I do not feel as comfortable talking to him since he only wants the ‘happy’ version of me that struggles to eat so that he can ‘fix’ my eating disorder and be able to feel like he did something!

But I continue to try to talk to him, because he is an only child and I am one of his only actual friends. (I really wish I was kidding, but when we became close, he told me that I was the first person to ever actually care about how he’s feeling and how he is actually doing rather than just taking advantage of his presence. He almost cried when I said that I appreciated his existence.)

And I do care about him. Edward is definitely a close friend, and I appreciate that he tries. But lately, he only does it for the validation of knowing he did something good, and it feels like he is just tired of having me around since I can’t bring myself to speak much.

So I have been trying to push myself to be a good friend to him. And I am doing what I can to pretend that I am getting better so that he can be happier. Which is just tiring me out even more.

I feel empty most of the time now, and I am so easily put over the edge. I can hide it pretty well, but it has been getting to the point where I am contemplating self harm again just to feel something.

I don’t remember how to properly do things. I am really just trying to get through every day. But it feels like I am headed straight for doom and I am so tired of it and I just want to leave!

Which in a few months, technically I will. I hope to go out of state for college (to get as far as I possibly can from all of this shit) but as I apply to more scholarships, I want to scream and cry because I have no clue how I am going to pay for college because my parents make too much money and my mother spends it all on herself so I am stressed out. I didn’t do enough extracurriculars, and I have been rejected from so many scholarships that it’ s starting to look like I might need to stay here, and I can’t do that. I just can’t.

So I have been crying and trying to escape from this shit, and I feel like at some point I might just constantly think that nothing is real and none of this shit matters, because that is on my mind more and more.

But hey! I have been reading, writing, gaming, watching anime and drawing to cope so that shit exists (even though it’s all shit so I won’t post it) and I’m making improvements with that so that is something?

I don’t fucking know lol.

I am just tired, and this was a rant. I don’t fucking care. Hope you have a good day!

#reality is often disappointing #and i am exhausted #life seems fake #depressive episodes suck #i literally can’t talk because of #anxiety #pretty sure everyone hates me #do i need tight hugs #therapy #or music #anyways #fictional characters #are the only thing really motivating me #tamaki and haruhi would not stand this #jumin and saeran would be making me get help and making sure that I wasn’t this stressed out #and there’s more but you get the gist #imma take a nap #emotional vent #depression

[palmett-hoes]

since the first step in achieving your goals is to state them aloud, here's a list of aftg fics/ au s that i'd like to write some day

- pre-canon fic from aaron's perspective spanning the twins' first meeting till they're drafted by the foxes and graduate high school. i'm increasingly enamored with aaron as a character as well as with an outside perspective of andrew's actions and i think it would be very interesting to look at the foundation on which their fraught relationship is built and first developed

- even more pre-canon fic. andrew's early life in foster care. yes, we all know about the most... gruesome things that were done to him, but i believe that there is plenty more that has affected and shaped him, especially in relation to my interpretation of andrew as an autistic poc. this would not be a happy fic.

- anastasia au. neil as anya, andrew as dimitri. possibly a plot amalgamation from both the animated movie and the stage show, with changes as i see fit. (no, neil is not the prince of russia). what i find most compelling about this au is the story of neil and andrew as childhood friends and then the angst of having andrew, as an adult, teaching an amnesiac neil how to act like a noble while being convinced that neil is an imposter. good shit

- art school/dance club au. the foxes attend the palmetto school of art at prestigious edgar allen university. they're considered the school's charity cases, and they are NOT friends. andrew is a studio arts major with a concentration in sculpture who works in the campus coffee shop in the mornings and frequents night clubs that employ pretty boys in the evenings. neil is attending college completely on his father's dime, PROVIDED he study what his father wants, despite his desire to study dance and music. going crazy without an outlet, neil takes a secret job as a go-go dancer. look. this may slightly possibly be a result of me having planned to party hardy this summer, then having my plans ruined by the virus :c

- 1950s High School au. the 1950s aesthetics fucking rock even though the 1950s fucking sucked. kinda wanna tackle both. plus, andrew already has that james dean bad boy fast car appeal

- an exploration of mary and nathan's relationship and history. i get that neil's parents are both super taboo and both really really awful people, but i have questions and i want to answer them

- neil never returns from baltimore. in order to keep his deals, permanently, andrew kills riko and tetsugi, and gets over 20 years in prison. when he gets out, he just wants to be alone, but it seems there's a ghost haunting him. this was conceived for MAXIMUM angst, no getting around it. i got the idea from a badacts fic and it has haunted me ever since

- post-canon sexuality exploration fic. i have a real passion for quality sex education and healthy experimentation, and neil very clearly didn't get the chance for either. yet at the end of the books he finds himself in a very intense sexual relationship. i just really want to give him the opportunity to find out how desire works for him and what he likes, on his own terms. i read a lot of fics where neil's desires seem to be completely dependent on andrew's initiaton, and while i do believe that andrew is the only person neil is attracted to and will ever be attracted to, i also want to explore how his sexuality manifests on its own. the vibe i'm going for is, uh, HornySweet (tm), but also with a lot of genuine eductional material. i want this is to be something that offers real information to its readers that may have been inaccessible for a lot of people, on topics like like sexual hygiene, maturbation, and sex toys in a non-fetishy way. this will be very very E rated, but like,, in a very earnest and goofy way because sex and sexuality is neat and cool but it's also not all serious perfect fucking. it's just,, a topic that deserves to be DISCUSSED

- mobster au. andrew, having never met aaron, takes a job for the moriyamas to track down a runaway asset. Neil. upon completion, they make andrew the butcher's apprentice, and pull neil back into the fold as a commodity rather than a person. lots of violence, lots of shady underground dealings, lots of plotting, lots of secrets.

i'm gonna put some more under the cut, ones that i don't feel as strong a drive towards right now or that i haven't thought as much about. if you (yes, YOU) like any of these, or are interested in any of these, or wanna hear more about any of these, or are even inspired to write something yourself by any of these please, PLEASE, say something in the notes, or send me a message, or an ask or anything. ANYTHING. i am stuck inside, all the time, and i am so, so lonely. i answer from hoob-gooblin

- princess bride au. come ON. princess bride is one of the most romantic AND most snarky movies of all time, and andreil literally invented love and devotion sooooooo it's a perfect match. "yes or no" vs "as you wish" kings of consent and communication and unconventional love declarations. also,, he may not be how I imagine andrew, but a young cary elwes in dramatic black pirate getup is DEFINITELY a valid andrew

- hozier au. sometimes,, i listen to an album, and imagine a fic that encompases the whole thing. nothing speaks louder to me than hozier's discography. (also, yes, i am gay). maybe a little bit inside llewyn davis. neil wanders through a small town and takes up some small jobs, but sings his heart out through twisted metaphors once a week in a hole in the wall bar staffed by a very short, dead eyed veteran

- prince and the pauper au. on a stealth recon mission in enemy territory, andrew encounters a local lord who happens to have his face. in a moment of desperation to save himself from arrest, andrew knocks the lord out and assumes his identity. he returns to the castle just in time for prince moriyama to arrive with a shifty-eyed, red-headed handservant in tow. lord aaron of columbia, meanwhile, wakes up on a ship manned by crown traitor and fugitive kevin day, calling him by a name he's never heard before, and then he's in the hands of the guerilla rebel forces that have been attacking the kingdom. i watched barbie princess and the pauper as a child and that movie fucking slaps

- little mermaid/beauty and the beast/bride of the rose beast/ladyhawke au. in a last ditch attempt to escape his father, neil trades his voice and his tail for legs and washes ashore on a small kingdom with horrible secrets. because he cannot speak, read or write, prince aaron employs neil to serve the monster in the catacombs, the prince's twin brother. the twins are under a curse that turns them into terrifying monsters, andrew by day and aaron by night. aaron's affliction is a secret, as is andrew's humanity. this is such a hodgepodge idea lol. did neil also have to be a mermaid for this to work? no. is he? hell yeah

- new york private school/twin swap au. aaron wins a scholarship to a prestigious school that will guarantee him a future, but then he relapses. convinced he just needs a little more time to get clean, he makes a deal with his volatile new brother, andrew, to stand in for him at the school just until he can his shit together. neil and ichirou moriyama have been raised together their entire lives, always under the knowledge that ichirou will inherit the family empire with nathaniel as his right hand. they hate the idea, but they have no way to escape, and now neil is being harassed by ichirou's bitchass estranged brother at their stupid, fancy private school. LISTEN, we as a fandom do NOT take enough advantage of the twin swap possibilities presented to us. pathetic

- post-canon fic where ichirou, realizing that the life of a mob boss is a lonely one, decides that he needs... a friend. however, because of the nature of his work, he can't just make friends with anyone, so he decides to make friends with neil. without consulting neil first. cue a lot of very weird, very awkward coffee dates where neil is convinced he's about to be disposed of, and ichirou just wants to know about his cats. the thing i like about ichirou is he’s a complete blank slate. i can make him a good guy, a bad guy, an ally, the Big Bad

- Kill Bill au. mary survives a bullet to the head and wakes up from a coma over a year later. with nothing left to lose, she sets out to single-handedly dismantle the wesninski circle. good thing she used to be its top assassin

- single dad andrew au. except look, look, stay with me here, okay, aaron is his son, and he's adopted nicky and kevin. LISTEN. STAY WITH ME. JUST THINK ABOUT IT. tbh the idea comes from my interpretation of the andrew/neil/kevin dynamic as distincly parental, then extending that interpretation to andrew's protection over the rest of his family.

- fashion au. andrew is a fashion designer and photographer who frequently works with allison reynolds. one day she brings around a short, twitchy assistant who looks like she just plucked him out of an alley. somehow, he becomes andrew's muse. i watch a lot of fashion competition shows

- ghibli. either howl's moving castle (andrew as sophie, neil as howl) or spirited away (?). maybe both idk

- legally blonde au. legally blonde is so good guys

#aftg #fic #fic ideas #aftg fic #the foxes #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil