“Why do you even love Jane so much, what makes her special? ”
To say Kurt wasn’t expecting that question is the understatement of the year, and to say her reaction to his answer was unexpected is the understatement of the century.
“She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met, especially after everything she’s been through…. ”
He would have continued if he hadn’t been cut off by a wayyyyy too angrily passionate Remi.
“After all she’s been through. ” Remi said in a dangerous tone. “ Jane never saw her parents get murdered right in front of her, never had to avoid stepping in the puddles of their blood. She never went to the orphanage, never fought for her brother to stay ALIVE in there! Jane never did countless missions to stay on Shepherd’s good side, SHE never saw her ENTIRE Navy Seal team get murdered! So Kurt don’t tell ME that she is the strongest person that you have ever met. Because she didn’t go through the half of it.
Remi looked exhausted after her outbreak…. Confession…. Admission? Kurt could tell it was genuine, but what really intrigued him was why she even told him that. Why was she trying so hard to get him to understand, why did this bother her so much. Regardless, Kurt saw a different side than what he’d seen all night, he didn’t see the disgust, or distrust. He saw the lonely woman who fought all her life to stay alive.
"Why did you tell me that?”
Remi scoffs “Because you think that you know me. That I’m just a terrorist who lovesssss chaos, just another wack job who turned when their country turned on them.”
Kurt looks at the ground.
“You don’t even try to understand, don’t try to emphasize. Because you have this predisposed image of me, all Jane saw was a small taste of the horrors that I have had to commit because of my mission(s). You don’t know ME! Kurt, you don’t know what I’ve done, who I’ve protected, who I love…. You just don’t. ”
Kurt realizes the Eve will break through the door at any moment, they take the package that Eve wanted for the Dabbur Zann and attempt to make an escape, until he feels Jane…. Remi lift his access card. By the time he turns around Remi is already halfway out the door with the case.
“JANE! DON’T! ”
“Jane is dead. My name is Remi.”
Then she was gone.
Smut fanfic take a seat… Angst Maggie/Skinner fanfic you’re up! I really hope to have it posted tonight…
because I still don’t know what a beta does all the time and still new to all things Tumblr
Jeff wasn't thinking all he could do was moan loudly as Nick held his hips in place and was rubbing their cocks together, it didn't take long before he came and he was so far gone " oh god Nick oh baby just like that" he whispered as he came down, and realized he missed Nick's orgasm and frowned, Nick laughed don't worry babe there's always round two he said with a wink, FIN! :D
Is round two gonna be in my ask another day then? ;)
instead of moving back down Jeff's body he rolled off of him and took his own pants off and his boxers Jeff would never get past how beautiful the boy was but his mind short circuited as the boy climbed back on top of him and ground down against his hard cock and they both moaned loudly as their flesh rubbed against each other.
as Nick took him in Jeff couldn't help but raise his hips up he knew Nick hated it but he couldn't form a single thought let alone stop his body from doing things that felt so right. Nick pulled off and Jeff whimpered Nick made his way up Jeff's body and whispered in the boys ear " now now Jeff play nice you don't want me to just leave you here do you? and I'll make sure you can't touch yourself either. Jeff knew he meant it.. hes done it before.
I wonder how many people are gonna unfollow me after me publishing all this hahaha. #noregrets
PLEASE CALUMS HANDS😻
anyone know the 5sos fanfic where michael wears a pig mask? its on wattpad i think its a highschool au but im not sure what ship
Rated T for language and depictions of violence
Summary: Obi-Wan is running on fumes. Anakin has a bad feeling about this. They go into battle anyway.
This morning, a shiny asked Obi-Wan if he preferred General Kenobi or Master Kenobi. It was a question that earned him a slap on the back of the head from one of the more experienced men. “He is your general, newbie, only the other Jedi call him Master.” The men laughed it off, giving the kid trouble, and Obi-Wan walked away before they noticed.
An innocent question, yes, but one that sent Obi-Wan into a bit of a tailspin. The war has been getting to him. He hasn’t had proper sleep in days, living off stale caff and wherever he can curl up for a thirty-minute power nap.
Do you prefer General Kenobi or Master Kenobi?
He wants to say master is his preferred title. The title he has been working his entire life for. Master Kenobi is a Jedi who worked hard to come back from less than adequate beginnings. One of the youngest members of the Jedi council (and they certainly like to remind him of the fact). A master of Soresu and the only Jedi that actually enjoys instructing the youngling Aurbesh class. After spending months teaching a padawan as stubborn as Anakin to read when he was nine, three-year-olds are a breeze.
But Master Kenobi isn’t here right now. General Kenobi is.
contrary to the title, this is not slow at ALL. also this experience is 10x better if you listen to slow down by chase atlantic or okay by chase atlantic (aka the inspo for this and also the anon)
tw: uses of drugs
Tell me what it is you wanna know
Finish up the bottle then we’ll go, babe
Waste a little money on some blow
She said, “Won’t you have a little?”
I said, “No way”
luke’s head was spinning. it could be from the pills he just popped, definitely not looking twice at what they were, or, it could be from the cocaine he’s about to endure with this girl who has been dangling around him all night. she puts her hair up into a high messy ponytail before leaning over to luke and asking, “you want the first line?”
“no way, that’s all you baby,” he says standing against the wall and watching her take the $100 rolled up bill to the white powder and the other end to her nose. it disappears into her and she sniffs a few times, running her finger under her nose to make sure she got every last bit of the drug into her system. her friends set up a few more lines and she takes a look to luke, waiting for him to join her on the remaining lines.
I’m too phased, it’s too late
But coming down is all I ever do, babe, yeah
And I’m so down if you’re ready
I’m floating but I’m heavy
And I’ll show you if you let me, girl
luke’s high was coming down, and all he could think about was having y/n on top of the sink with her dress bunched up and him just completely pounding into her. her arm extends out, handing luke a clean $100 bill for him to roll up and take the next line with her. he takes it from her hand and begins rolling it up very tightly.
y/n has her bottom lip between her teeth, holding up her $100 bill and says a quick “cheers” with luke’s. the two go down and swipe the plate as clean as they could. y/n throws her head back, feeling how the drug messes with her body. and, it’s clear to say that the only thing on her mind right now is luke. luke takes his pointer finger and collects the residue on the tip of his finger. he brings y/n closer to him, making her fall into his body and she looks up at him with her pupils taking up the entire space of her iris’.
he brings his fingers to her lips, her tongue sticking out and cleaning up the residue that was resting there. once y/n is done she stands on her tip toes, placing her hands on luke’s shoulders before whispering, “Fuck me like I’m famous.”
luke’s face is burning up, but this is what he’s been wanting the whole night. to hear her desperate and pathetic moans while his cock just slides in and out of her wet cunt. to have her begging for his touch. he wants it bad that he’s desperate enough to pick her up by her waist and take her to the bathroom that’s not preoccupied. he opens the door and then slams y/n’s back against it to close it. she’s standing for a second and locks the door herself. she then takes off the leather jacket that luke was wearing.
their kiss is heated and messy. teeth clashing, tongues wrestling, all while luke is getting y/n up onto the sinks counter. and just like luke wanted, her dress was bunched up around her hips and her legs open for him. he doesn’t even bother taking his pants off all the way, just enough to get his aching cock out. he also doesn’t bother taking y/n’s panties off either, just slips them to the side so he can slide into her walls.
y/n’s quick with her response of moans coming from her. her eyes can barely stay open to look at luke’s dilating ones. the fly aways from her pony tail start sticking to her forehead and luke’s breathing becomes hot. he takes her throat into his hand, squeezing the sides of it to have her gasp at him.
“you like being fucked in a dirty bathroom? huh? fucking look at me when i’m speaking to you.” luke spits making y/n open her eyes. her mouth is hung open and dripping with spit. she sticks her tongue out for him so he can set his thumb there. luke can’t tear his eyes away from his cock sliding in and out of her, he thinks this is the prettiest it’s ever looked while he’s fucked someone.
y/n’s knuckles are gripping the counter so hard when she feels luke completely abuse the spot that has her moaning louder and louder. she’s not sure how much longer she’s gonna last, but she doesn’t want luke to stop either. “such a dirty little slut. if i brought you home you’d be buried in the pillows, yeah you’re so loud.”
“oh fuck, please don’t stop,” y/n moans. she’s sure she’s going to have bruises on her hips and maybe even on the insides of her legs if luke keeps pounding her at the pace he is. luke brings her up by her throat, forcing her to look at him. her breath hitches in her throat and her legs begin to shake around luke’s hips. “slow down, slow down” is all she can say.
I’ve been rolling for days, yeah, this is so foreign
luke hasn’t been as high as he is for weeks. he wants every second to last, but he knows it won’t. y/n is wailing in his ear, begging for him to make her cum. her pleas are what’s keeping him going. she’s what’s keeping him going. luke didn’t know what he wanted until he met y/n. his mind was swimming, and it’s most likely the drugs talking, but he wants this to last.
“cum for me baby, don’t be shy. show me how dirty girls cum.” he says, fucking into her faster and harder. y/n’s shoulders stretch out, pushing her chest out and her head falls back on the mirror. she feels everything and she wants to have that euphoric feeling last forever. when luke feels her walls tighten around his cock, his shoulders stretch and his chest pushes out. “that’s it, fuck, so good baby,” he encourages y/n while he feels himself let go.
Slow down, slow down
I’m about to show you, baby, slow down
Slow down, slow down
I’m about to show you, baby, slow down
they can both feel it in their brains. it’s like what had happened was a pill that hit the tongue, dissolved, and just took a little taste to get them addicted. y/n made her decision. luke made his decision.
and they swear that it’s never been the same with someone else.
A/N: Hey guys, I wrote a part two of this because I really like the direction it was going in. Anyway, I’m really really proud of this one and I loved writing it. Please do give any and all feedback, I love it. Much love guys.
Warning: naughty words, that’s about it.
Summary: You think you’re doing okay, Ashton shows up and you realise you might not be. But time can mend and you know that.
At the end of three weeks, crisis mode ends for everyone but you. Calum stops coming by every day, understandable because he has his own life to live but it hurts all the same. Luke and Michael still come around occasionally but everything goes back to normal. You’ve accepted Ashton isn’t coming back anytime soon, you’ve accepted that he’s probably with her now and it’s time to move on but it still hurts. It hurts so much that your heart seemingly twists with every breath you take and a pain lingers in your gut that you can’t get rid of no matter how hard you try. Still, you think it might be time to fix the bedroom, throw out all of Ashton’s old stuff and start fresh. You think you can do that, think after weeks of shutting the world out, you can drag yourself down to the department store and buy replacements for all the stuff you broke. You can drag yourself out of bed, put your goddamn clothes on and start putting yourself back together like you promised you would.
And so you do.
Two days after changing the sheets for the first time, you kick the comforter back off and let it land on the floor. You drag yourself up, throw the pillows from the bed and strip the sheet from the mattress. It’s different now, this isn’t anger anymore or at least you don’t think it is, you think its acceptance, think it’s the determination to pick up the pieces of yourself and slot them back into place no matter what you have to do. Because you can’t stay in this apartment with all the things you shared and the shards of the promises he made to you. You can’t stay in this house with fragments of his cologne and toothbrush and his record collection that stares mockingly at you every time you sit on the couch and try to forget everything he destroyed when he left you. You think … you think you need to make this place your own, fill it with your own love and your own light and everything you know you can be with him. Because you’ll be okay, you know you’ll be okay but it’ll take time, and you know that too.
The first thing you do when you finally force yourself away from the bedroom and away from the pile of sheets you’ve pulled from the cupboard, is grab a trash bag from the cupboard under the sink and head back into the bathroom. You don’t spare the broken glass another look as you sweep it into the bag, try not to touch the bristles of the toothbrush as you throw the fragments of the life you had before into the bag. In fact, you clear out every single thing in that room that belongs to him and make a note in your mind to buy your favourite bath salts and bath bombs and replace everything he said he loved with what you like because this is your home now, and you intend to make it a place filled with love instead of betrayal and regret.
The trash bag is full by the time you reach the closet in your bedroom, all traces of Ashton gone from the bathroom and the kitchen. You left the living room, can’t bring yourself to touch his record collection that he spent weeks organizing or the stack of books with his scribbled post it notes on top. You loved reading almost as much as he did. You’ve always been a sucker for getting lost in a story, mostly Jane Austen, and her talent for writing a romance you could only dream about. You’ve fantasied about meeting your Prince Charming on more than one occasion. You thought you’d found that when you’d met Ashton. Turns out you were wrong.
It takes you a minute. It takes you a minute because everything hits you, suddenly and all at once, and you have to stop yourself from falling back into the chaos you’re so determined to leave behind. You take a breath, shaking, then another and turn back into the bedroom without giving that stupid coffee table another glance. You might have to buy another one, fuck, you might have to refurnish your entire apartment until you can learn to love and breath in here again.
Crescent moons appear on your palms as you dig you nails into your skin in an attempt to stop your hands shaking. It feels stupid, like you should be able to shake and cry and scream all you want in your own apartment but you feel Ashton lingering in everything you do. You have to be strong, you have to be able to throw these things out without a second glance because you’ll destroy yourself if you keep them here for much longer. You’re torn, torn between keeping his things because you know you still love him, or getting rid of them because you know you have to move on. But there’s something in the pit of your stomach, something that feels suspiciously like hope, that he’ll realize his mistake and come back.
You tear his clothes off the hangars and stuff them into the trash bag without another thought.
You leave the stripped bed, bare pillows and duvet on the floor and drag the trash bag back through the apartment. You spare a glance to the clock that hangs in your kitchen and you’re surprised to see it’s almost eleven at night. It means you’ve spent the better part of three hours throwing every trace of Ashton out of your apartment without shedding a tear. It’s an accomplishment, of sorts, something to be proud of and you know in that moment, you’ll be able to make this apartment a beautiful home for yourself.
You grab the bag, pull the door just as someone pushes from the other side and you stumble, fall back and drop the bag as Calum stands on the other side of the door with his hand still on the door handle and a stunned expression on his face.
“Calum?” You scramble to shove Ashton’s stuff back into the trash bag as Calum watches with the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking on you.” It’s the first time he’s been back in a few days and you weren’t expecting one of Ashton’s best friends to open the door just as you were throwing out everything he owned. Calum’s voice is thick with amusement as he speaks. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m cleansing.” You fumble for the ties at the top of the trash bag and pull them tightly. “Getting my shit together.”
“Getting rid of shit, you mean.”
“No,” you sigh, run a hand through your hair and realizing you haven’t brushed it in the same breath you realise you probably smell awful. “I’m creating something.”
“You don’t have to get rid of his stuff right away, you know. Just like you don’t have to stop loving him right away.” Calum takes the bag from you, fingers gently brushing yours, and you know by your lack of resistance that he’s right. “Let me take this.” He pauses, glances at your face for any sign of discomfort. When he finds none and instead is met with a soft smile, he continues. “You’ll regret it if you dump this right now. Trust me.”
“I do,” you reply, relinquishing the bag. “I do trust you.” You pause, watching Calum as he smiles. A deep breath leaves your lips without you meaning it to and Calum raises an eyebrow like he knows there’s something you want to ask him. He waits, he’s patient because he knows how hard this is for you. “How is he?” You finally ask, voice no more than a breath.
“Luke says he’s heartbroken.”
“Luke? You haven’t seen him?”
Calum shakes his head. “I’m here for you, not him. He’s my best friend but I can’t support what he did.”
It takes a lot of strength for you not to cry then, and you blink back tears, sniffle and disguise it with a laugh as Calum wraps you in his arms. You almost deflate against him, like you can finally breath, like you’ve got the validation that Ashton is in the wrong, not you. “Thank you.” You whisper, fighting to keep your voice even. “Thank you.”
Calum pulls away after a minute, “Give me this shit,” he laughs, waiting as you grab your purse and jacket and lock the door. “You want me to drive you?”
“You don’t even know where I’m going.” You chuckle, following him down the stairs and outside to his car as you struggle to keep your gaze away from the trash bag he holds in his hand. You whole life is in there, well, your old life. You dig for your keys, push the thought away and head to your car. “I love you Cal, but we’re going different ways and you’re not the best driver.”
“I’m a great driver!” He insists as you duck into your car and give him a wave. He flips you off with a grin and you shake your head as you pull out of the lot ahead of Calum and take the turn to the department store.
You’re ready, you know you’re ready and you’ve already got a list in your head of what you can buy now that Ashton’s gone. You’ll fill the bathroom shelves with wicker baskets full of bath salts. You’ll buy new sheets, ones alive with colour and you’ll replace the cushion covers with the ones you wanted to get all along. You’ll buy plants and put them in every nook and cranny of your apartment and you’ll stock the fridge with your favourite food and forget how it used to be crammed with beer. It’s the next step for you, the next chapter.
But the thing is, you didn’t want to turn the page at all.
You pull into a space outside the store, grab a basket and head inside in high spirits because this is the first time you’ve felt confident with a decision since Ashton left. You dressed in something other than pajamas, you threw on some makeup and you hauled your ass out of the apartment because you’re so determined to make a life for yourself.
And you’re so confident in this decision, so unbelievably proud of yourself as you turn down the aisle to pick out your plants, that you think you might be having some sort of mental break when you see Ashton standing at the other end of aisle with a plant in hand.
And you freeze, your blood turns cold and you fucking freeze on the floor of that department store because every emotion that you’ve felt in the last few weeks hit you like a slap to the face and you fail to pick your jaw up off the floor, fail to turn around and leave despite the amount of fear and hate and adrenaline that’s racing through your veins. So, when he turns and meets your eyes and the plant he’s holding falls to the floor and the pot shatters, your heart fucking explodes.
And yet, you still can’t fucking move.
Your name on his lips for the first time in weeks makes your stomach turn and bile rise in your throat. Your heart races, thunders in your chest and you can hear blood pounding in your head as you try to figure out what to do before he reaches you. But you can’t leave now because he’s seen you and as much as you want to show him that he means nothing to you, you can’t bring yourself to destroy the last little piece of your relationship that has survive. So you take a breath, steady yourself because you refuse to be afraid of this anymore and turn to Ashton as he stops in front of you.
“Hi.” You wait for him to speak first and when he does, you’re surprised to find there’s anger in the pit of your stomach instead of the grief you expected to feel.
You cross your arms over your chest. “Hi.”
Ashton hesitates, “How are you?”
“How do you think?”
“You what?” You’re aware you don’t give him the chance to finish but the rage that seems to have consumed you in the time that he’s walked from one end of the aisle to the other is the thing that guides you.
“I’m so sorry.”
You scoff, “I bet you are,” you glance down to the basket in his hands. “So what, you’re already shopping for your new place? For your new girl?”
You’re not sure Ashton’s eyes can widen anymore. He’s always known you were feisty, knew exactly what he was getting into but he’s never seen you like this, driven by blinding anger. “No. No, I… I’m staying with Luke. Thought I could get him something to say thank you.”
“Not staying at your new girls house then?” You haven’t unfolded your arms, eyes glaring at Ashton as he focuses on anything other than your face.
Ashton’s eyes fall to your shoes. “I haven’t seen her since that night.”
You laugh, short and bitter. “Don’t be shy, Ash. Since the night you fucked her.”
Ashton shakes his head, “Please, please let me explain.”
“What’s there to explain?” And despite yourself, you take a step closer to him. “You don’t love me anymore, remember.”
Ashton seems close to tears, frustration and exasperation driving him towards the edge. “Just give me a chance to explain, please.”
You’re silent for a moment watching Ashton as he watches you before you let go of your cart, raise an eyebrow and turn to leave the store. You’re not sure if Ashton picked up that you want him to follow but then you head into the parking lot and hear his footsteps behind you as he follows you to your car.
“Get in.” Is the only thing you say as you open the door to your car and watch Ashton slide into the passenger seat. He doesn’t have to say yes. All he does is wait.
A silver Honda passes you as you and Ashton sit side by side on the hood of the car. You’ve been here for seven minutes and twelve seconds, you know because you’ve been watching the seconds pass you by on the clock on the dashboard.
“We haven’t talked in a while.” You finally say, remembering every single might where you pushed the call button on Ashton’s contact on your phone.
“No,” Ashton replies, quiet as ever, “No we haven’t talked at all.”
The freeway’s almost empty but some traffic zooms by the two of you as you stare past Ashton and into the inky blue of the sky. It’s fourteen minutes past one, all you know is that you drove the freeway for two hours and then pulled over to the an emergency bay on the side of the road. But you don’t know much else because your head is spinning and Ashton is sitting the closet to you that he has in weeks.
You can’t avoid this forever, you suppose, which is a shame because you’ve done a good job trying.
So you sigh, slide off the hood of the car as you wipe your hands on your jeans. Ashton looks like he wants to follow but the glare you cast his way tells him to stay put. “This is how this is going to work. You’re going to answer every fucking question I ask you and I might not shove you in front of an oncoming vehicle.”
Ashton nods, barely breaths as he says “yes.” Probably because he doesn’t want to be thrown in front of a car, you suppose. But still, it’s a start.
“Who bought you your shit?” It’s no mystery to you that some of Ashton’s stuff disappeared from your apartment before you started to break everything. You couldn’t bring yourself to care back then. You do now, though.
“Luke and Michael.”
“You saw them a lot?”
“A bit, yeah.”
You nod, run your tongue over your teeth. “Calum?” Because despite what he said to you, your trust has been shattered and you want to see if Ashton will lie to you even now.
“He hasn’t returned my calls,” Ashton says quietly. “I don’t know.”
Okay, you think, two questions in and you don’t want to snap yourself in half. You take a few steps away from the car, then walk back and stare Ashton straight in the face as another car growls past.
“How’ve you been? Really? Don’t sugar coat it.”
Ashton gives a sad sort of smile as he fiddles with the bottom of his shirt. “Fucking…terrible. Maybe worse. Haven’t been getting out of bed a lot.”
“Good.” You snap, can’t stop yourself because he should hurt just as much as you did. He shouldn’t be able to get out of fucking bed either. You breathe in the crisp night air and try to calm yourself.
“How’ve you been?” You stop pacing across the gravel of the freeway and look up at him.
“You already asked me that. I already answered.” God, your voice is vicious, prowls across the cool night air and bites at him. But you feel satisfied, knowing you can give Ashton little cuts like this.
Ashton bites his lip and looks down. He looks out of breath, like he’s run miles and you can’t help but think god, because he deserves every bit of pain you felt. “I know. But it’s all I think about.”
Cry me a fucking river. You want to scream. You couldn’t handle one fucking day of this.
Fuck, you love him so much.
And even though he hasn’t talked over you once you can’t help but snap, “Interrupt me one more time and you can fucking walk home.” And then before you can stop yourself, before you can falter, “Now, why’d you do it?”
Ashton stops moving then, stops fiddling, stops breathing, so quickly that you’re almost worried. But then Ashton opens his mouth and you realise you’re not ready for this answer so you cover your fear with malice. “Don’t hesitate” you say, “Don’t fucking um and ah. And don’t bullshit me, don’t you fucking dare.”
“So why’d you fucking do it, you selfish prick.” You say and when your voice finally cracks, Ashton looks away.
Good, you think, fucking let him hurt. Let him feel half of what I have.
“Why did you fucking do it?” You yell, veering straight past the nickname because you can’t handle that right now, not on top of everything else. You voice makes Ashton’s head snap up. “Don’t fucking look away from me. Just tell me!” And then softer, because your voice has cracked and you can’t do this anymore, “Just say it. Please.”
Ashton nods, wipes the back of his hand over his eyes.
“Okay…okay, but you can’t…it’s not logic. It’s not.”
“Just say it.” Four cars go past before Ashton speaks again and you fight to keep yourself steady on your feet.
“I got scared,” he says finally and you’ve never heard Ashton’s voice so small. “I got scared and you didn’t. I got scared and I panicked and I drank too much and you were a million miles away and I fucked up.”
“Not enough,” you shake your head. “That’s not enough. You don’t get to fuck someone and tell me you don’t love me and get away with it in a single sentence. That’s not fucking good enough.”
Ashton slides from the hood of the car then and you’re so scared he’s going to end this conversation and get back in the car and leave you again. So, you say the first thing you can think of. “You wanted it too, though, didn’t you? You wanted me?” And, fuck, you can barely stomach how stupid your question sounds but you need to know. You need to know.
“Of course I wanted you.” Ashton says, polar opposite to the venom that coats your voice. “Of course I did.”
“Then what the fuck?” You ask angrily because you don’t understand, you don’t. “What the fuck was all of it for. I don’t understand.”
“We weren’t supposed to make it.” Ashton whispers and the distance you’ve put between the two of you, you quickly close because you can’t miss this. “We were twenty-one and twenty fucking three something and we weren’t supposed to make it. It wasn’t…it wasn’t supposed to go anywhere because I was leaving for tour and you wanted that degree and wanted to leave this stupid goddamn city. And we didn’t have a chance in hell of making it.”
Your inches away from him now.
“And then by some fucking miracle, we did make it.” Ashton says, “and then you’re talking about a future with a house and a family and fucking colour schemes and shit and it scared me. I was fucking scared and so out of my depth and I didn’t know what to do.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You croak out, “Why didn’t…you could’ve told me.”
Ashton snorts and makes the two of you seem impossibly closer. “Do you know what kind of person you are to let down?” He asks, “I couldn’t do that to you and so I got scared and I tried to avoid it and I fucked up.”
“So you went and stuck your dick in someone else?” You spit, “like that wasn’t going to raise anymore fucking issues, like that wasn’t going to cause a bit of a problem, like— “
“You asked me why.” Ashton says and his voice raises for the first time. “You asked me why. I’m not saying it makes sense but…that’s it.”
You thought knowing would make you feel better. You really did, but now you know just how mistaken you’ve been. “I should’ve known,” you say, face white, “I should’ve known, I was right there and I just…I did nothing.”
You could deal with not knowing, you realise, you could deal with that but now there’s a pressure on your chest saying it’s on you, saying it’s your fault. You think you might throw up and brace yourself against the hood of the car.
“It’s not your fault,” Ashton says from behind you and you’ve forgotten how much you miss his comfort, his safety. “It’ll never be your fault. You have to know that.”
“But it is.” You say, snapping back around to face Ashton. “Because you couldn’t tell me. You couldn’t tell me and you couldn’t touch me a and so you had to find someone else.” And it’s so overwhelming, so fucking overwhelming and it hits you all at once and you don’t realise Ashton holding you until your legs are about to give out.
You want to push him away, want to throw yourself off, want to barrel into traffic for all you care but you’re not strong enough. Because you’re so fucking tired and sad and so, so in love with the boy in front of you that it feels like if you let go of him you’ll forget how to breath.
“I hate you.” You sob but pull Ashton closer and you shudder as he kisses the top of your hair. “I love you. I can’t fucking do this.”
“I’m so sorry,” Ashton whispers. “I’m so so sorry. I’m sorry I did it and I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m so so sorry I fucked it all up.”
“No. Don’t do that. You don’t get to say sorry and have yourself feel better and leave me here like this. You don’t get to do that.”
“I fucking love you,” You yell and somewhere, someone sounds their horn as they pass you and you kick up a cloud of dust. “God, I love you so much but I can’t fucking trust you and I hate you a lot but I still love you too. And I don’t understand how you can say you feel the same when you did all this.”
Ashton stops in his tracks then, freezes just like you did in the department store. “No one picked up the phone for me, you know that? No one picked up for the longest time and when Luke finally did, he gave me a fucking earful.” Ashton pauses, lowers his voice. “And I didn’t care.”
Everything in your head snaps quiet.
“I didn’t care,” Ashton says, “because all I could think about was getting you back. I knocked on Luke’s door that first fucking night and said I want to go home.”
“But that can’t be true,” you whispered, “because you fucked someone else.”
You see the way that rips through Ashton, see the way it absolutely breaks him but you don’t feel satisfied. You just feel so, so tired.
“Yeah,” Ashton says and it’s the first time you’ve heard him own up to that. “Yeah and it only took me a fucking second to realise I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.”
You don’t say anything, watch the moon and the sky and a red car that growls past before you finally look back to Ashton.
“I don’t know what to do,” Ashton says. “But tell me what it is and I’ll fucking do it. I’ll do whatever you need, whatever you want. You’re so…” he trails off, bites his lip. “You’re so gorgeous, baby. You’re my favourite person in the world and I want to make you believe that again, if you’d let me.”
It’s too much, it’s all too much and suddenly all you need to do is go home and go to bed.
“Yeah. Well. I think you’ve done enough for today. Let’s go.” And the car is silent for the two hours back to the city.
You let Ashton walk you to the door for no other reason than you’re too tired to stop him. He casts a hopeful look at the door but you remember everything you’ve thrown out, what the apartment looks like now and the anger and emptiness still between those walls and you know you can’t let him in.
“You should go, Ash.” You say finally.
“Please,” is all he says. “Please, baby.” His voice is miserable and cracked and hoarse.
“I’ll call you.” You murmur. “I promise. I just…I just need a couple days.”
Ashton nods, presses a kiss to your cheek and leaves without another word.
You open the door and fall straight onto your bare bed. You’ve driven for hours, had the life drained out of you and all you need now is to sleep.
You get yourself a coffee the next morning, enjoy the sun for just a little while before you head back inside and sit and stare at your phone for a good couple of minutes. You know who to call, know what you want to say but you’re not sure if you’re ready for the conversation.
But you suppose that if you don’t do it now, you’ll have to do it later.
So, you pick up the phone, dial and it only takes a couple of seconds before Calum picks up on the other end.
“Hey,” you can already hear the concern in his voice, already know he’s straight back into panic mode. You can’t let it phase you though and so you take a breath and begin. “I need to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth.”
“Do you think,” you start, closing your eyes. “Do you think it’s stupid or, I don’t know, weak if I take him back?”
Calum doesn’t say anything for a long time, although you can hear him drumming his fingernails on the table top.
“I think,” he says slowly, “that as long as you’re in this for you and not him…then I think forgiving him is the strongest thing you can do.”
“I haven’t forgiven him yet.” You mumble.
“I know.” He says, waits for you to speak again.
“Thank you,” you say because you need him to know how much he’s meant to you throughout this. “I do love you Cal, really.” And of course, it’s not in the same way you love Ashton, you doubt you’ll ever love someone the way you love Ashton, but you need him to know nonetheless.
“You know,” he pauses and when he speaks again you can hear his smile down the phone. “You changed the sheets, not me.”
You laugh and cry at the same time.
“I’ll talk to you later.” Calum murmurs gently. “Go get him.”
And so you do.
The first couple months are difficult to say the least.
You walk on eggshells for the first while, walk around each other and every touch, every brush of your skin against Ashton is uncertain. You’ll wake up in the middle of the night to Ashton breathing softly next to you and it’ll get too much and you’ll pad to the living room and sleep on the couch and wake to Ashton staring at you from the kitchen with guilt in the pit of your stomach.
When you come home and Ashton isn’t there, there’s an initial wave of nausea that hits you so hard you can’t do anything but sit and stare at the TV without turning it on. You know that he’ll be getting groceries or having a beer with the boys but all you’ll be able to think is that he’s back out with her and he won’t be coming back to you.
There are days when you think you can’t do it and nights when you can’t be in the same bed with him. The uncertainty lingers for a while but in the midst of that, there’s so much more. You start dating each other again and Ashton looks at you like you’re his whole world. You eat takeout and watch cheesy movies and take stupid photos and there are nights when you stay up until three in the morning and talking about everything that’s happened. There are nights when neither of you say anything either too, you don’t need to, because you know you’re going to be okay.
Everything mends, slowly. There comes a day when you don’t find broken bits of glass in the drawer in the bathroom. There comes a day when you’re on the couch with Ashton and you think that, somehow, it’s exactly how it used to be.
“Baby,” Ash murmurs one night, knowing that you’re okay with the nickname now. “You awake?”
You leave it for a second and then reply. “What’s up?”
“Just thinking.” Ashton says and you roll your eyes in the dark.
“Dangerous.” You grin into his chest. “What about?”
Ashton’s quiet for just a little too long before you realise this isn’t just going to be a goodnight.
“I just,” he says, “I lie here and I think about you. And I just…I just want you to know that there’s nowhere else I’d rather fall asleep than right here. That’s what I think every night before I go to sleep.” Ashton pulls you closer as you stay silent. “I just need you to know that I love you.” And he says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
“Yeah,” you murmur and you kiss his jaw and then his lips with heavy eyes. “I know. I love you too, if you hadn’t realized.”
Ashton seems happy with that but you stay awake a little longer. You brush your hand over his skin until you’re calm enough to fall asleep next to him, next to the love of your life. And when you wake the next morning, it’s to the smell of Ashton cooking breakfast in the kitchen.
Everything mends, slowly.
The two of you mend last, but you think that’s okay. Because back before this, back when it all began, you were the one to change the sheets. And, you suppose, if changing the sheets wasn’t so bad, the rest won’t be either.
You are driving. It does not matter where you are going, only that you have been on the road for hours, it is getting late, and you are tired. You are in the middle of the desert, and are seriously hoping to find a place to spend the night soon. The sun is beginning to set. Should it be setting already? The clock on the dash of your vehicle must be wrong. You’ve had the radio on for a while now, though it has been mostly silent, as there is no signal in the middle of the barren desert. Finally you see the faint outlines of a town up ahead. You catch a glimpse of a road sign, but it seems to disappear before you can read the town name. You write this off as a trick of the light, or perhaps your tired eyes perceiving things wrong. The radio crackles to life as a broadcast is picked up. There is a man speaking, but it is quiet and you cannot understand the words. You turn the volume dial up. The man is talking about good hotels in the town and places travelers often stop to eat. You consider this convenient. As you cross the city line into the town, you see a sign on the side of the highway. As you read it, you hear the man on the radio mentions you by name. He welcomes you to Night Vale.
Hey, y’all!! Hope you’re having a lovely day! Before we get to the free bonus chapter, it’s time to announce the cover winner for the book! Congratulations to Shaheen Po! Your submission will be the official cover for Sugarcoated Pain! Check it out, guys, it’s perfect for the book!:
Now, from tomorrow until January 21st, you can get a (new) bonus chapter for free on Amazon! If you’ve read the fic, then bonus chapter is some extra material. But if you haven’t and prefer to read the book first before you read the bonus chap, you can still get the bonus chapter for free and save it until you read the book! But after January 21st, the bonus chapter can still be purchased on Amazon at a good price!
Hope y’all enjoy!!! Love you guys so much!
Jamie and Polly talk about the people they left behind.
They must have been wandering around the shops and stalls for an hour or two, Jamie thought, scuffing his foot against the flagstone floor as he muffled a yawn. There had been a clock, right at the entrance to the covered marketplace, but they were long since out of sight of it, and he was left only to watch the sun inch its way across the sky through the great glass panels set into the arching roof. Polly had been picking over trinkets for the whole time, and he had been trailing after her, fiddling with the things they passed and watching other shoppers drift by. More than once, he had wished he had gone with Ben and the Doctor to investigate the crowds that had been gathering by the docks. They were sure to have found their way into some sort of trouble by now, he thought, shaking his head. Perhaps they ought not to have left them.
But Polly had insisted on shopping, and it would not have been right, to leave her on her own on an alien planet. Ben and the Doctor had each other, at least. And it was not as if he did not enjoy Polly’s company, he reminded himself. It had been enjoyable enough, poking around the shops with her, giggling at some things and murmuring their fascination at others.
“It’s funny, really,” she said, prodding at a few of the hanging glass baubles she was inspecting. They were shaped like blooming flowers, their petals edged with metal wire so they tinkled against each other prettily as they moved.
He watched her for a moment, expecting her to carry on, but she stayed silent. “What’s funny?” he prompted at last, reaching out to run his fingers across the closest bauble.
I admit it; first person pov is not suitable to my writing style, and i really should drop any attempts to use it
……….but i still wanna, so :P gonna use it despite being absolute shit at it lol
i’m in a bit of a hurry so i’m sorry if this is rushed but!!!
if you like gladly beyond and unsteriotipical you(hope i got it right omg) THIS IS YOUR BABY
jimin likes pretty things. jungkook’s hella pretty. but there’s more
idk in my mind they’re all sisters and idk why (has more to do with gladly beyond tho)
when I read something in a fanfic that is so brazen i.. excuse me i have to take a break i physically cannot handle it my brain short-circuits and im so embarrassed it’s painful i scream why why why i try to settle my emotions placate my jitters and brace myself to keep reading and see whatever the fuck will happen next
Word count: 977
Summary: After moving into Crystals apartment you suddenly have to spend more time with the bossy and secretive Luke Hemmings. Though your mind tells you to stay away, your heart wants something else. Will you still listen to your heart when you find out what Luke’s secret is?
*not my gif*
The house is big. Well, that’s an understatement, it is gigantic! And the fact that Luke leads you closer to it, makes it seem even bigger.
The facade of the house is slightly covered in ivy, dark green leaves crawling over the brown wood. A stair leads up to a front-porch that has two lawn chairs and a front door. It all looks so lovely and cozy.
The feeling of home rushes over you, making you feel completely at ease. That is until you feel an overwhelming doubt setting in the pit of your stomach. You turn around to look at Luke.
“What is wrong?” He sounds worried and his eyebrows furry.
“What if they don’t like me?” You try to look at anything but Luke when you ask him. He grabs your chin with his thumb and index finger to make your eyes meet.
“Pup. How can anyone not like you?” Literal electricity shoots into your veins at his words. Okay, not literal but it might as well be, it has the same effect. However your best friend, doubt, creeps back (like a bitch).
“You didn’t like me at first, Luke…” You can see that he’s taken aback at your words. He hesitates before speaking,
“It’s not that I didn’t like you, it’s just-”
The front door of the house swings open and out comes three huge guys,
“Luke! You’re back! Is this her? Shit, she does smell goo-”
“That is enough!” Luke growls loudly and all three guys quiet down. “Y/N, this is Milo, Casper and Xavier. Guys, this is Y/N.” The boys nod as their name is said, first a guy with dark olive kind of skin and dark hair, then a guy with sepia colored skin and short white hair, and lastly a guy with a warm kind of beige skin tone and black hair.
You smile at them all, yet you cannot get Luke’s not-finished sentence out of your head. This is the second time (or something) that he’s been interrupted while saying something that you must assume is just a little important.