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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 9 months

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So, I’m housesitting for some lesbians. They’re friends with one of my mother’s friends, and they both just retired so they’re going on a three-month vacation. Earlier in the summer they were looking for someone to look after their house and cats while they’re away. I said yes, because at the time, it looked like I might lose the lease on my own place, and I figured, I’d rather move in here than have to move in with my parents while finding somewhere new to actually live.

Then things worked out with my place, which I was really excited about, because I really love that house, and I love having my room and my space with all my stuff, and I love the location. And at the moment that location has bigger implications for my life, because I’ve been working on having more of a life in general again, seeing friends more and coaching and going out to see comedy and music. Did that this summer. Felt good about it, after isolating myself so much in the last few years (initially isolating myself at the direction of the government, but also remaining isolated for much longer than the government told us to). That place is right downtown, near everything. I knew that if I lost that place, I’d end up living with my parents in the suburbs until I find somewhere else, and even once I did the place would be in some shitty location because nowhere else downtown is affordable, and I knew I’d end up not doing anything again. Not seeing friends or doing sports or going anywhere. Not when I had to bus across the city for it.

But it worked out! That’s a whole other story, it’s been back and forth and up and down all summer, it’s been a fucking nightmare, I’ve been incredibly anxious and stressed about it for months, but finally, finally, it worked out. Just last week I signed a lease that says I can stay there pretty much until I decide to leave. And my best friend is moving into the other bedroom, which was previously occupied by my roommate, whom I found annoying while I lived with him but now fucking hate because he’s the reason I almost got kicked out of the place, it’s a long and complicated story. Anyway, the point is that I get to stay there! And things are even better than before, living with the guy I want to spend lots of time with anyway, instead of someone who annoys me. I’ve lived with this friend off and on since we were 19.

So it was perfect. Except that I’d already agreed to spend September 5-December 1 living in this other house, an agreement I made when I thought I might otherwise might not have anywhere to go during those months. If I’d known I’d get to keep my own place, I wouldn’t have signed on to this. I’d have stayed there and hung out with my friend and enjoyed knowing it’s mine (I mean, I’m still renting, it’s not great when getting upgraded to “proper tenant who can’t just be kicked out at the whim of my roommate – even though the place is still owned by the landlord”) is a massive step up in terms of agency in my life. But it does feel pretty good.

Having said that – this is pretty fucking good. It is way out in the suburbs, it’s a long bus ride downtown to actually do stuff. But it’s a half-hour walk to my work, while my own place is just over an hour on the bus from my work, so that’s convenient. Also, these people are fucking cool and so is their house.

I never met them before this summer, when I came over here so they could show me around the place before having me live in it for three months. But my mother told me they were the first people in our city to get gay married after gay marriage was legalized, so that’s cool.

Before meeting them, I thought, don’t mention the gay marriage thing. That’s the only thing I know about them, and I think it’s cool as fuck, but they’re just two women in their sixties who’ve been married since 2003 and together quite a bit longer than that, they’re going on a retirement trip, the fact that they’re gay wedding pioneers is just their past, it isn’t still some novelty. Don’t make a big deal out of it.

Then I arrived at their house, and was greeted by a rainbow welcome mat. Went inside. There’s a rainbow magnet on the fridge, next to a photo from their wedding, and a clipping from the local newspaper in 2003, about the fact that they’d just become the first gay couple in the city to get married. When showing me around the backyard, she pointed out the gazebo, and said, “We call it the gay-zebo.” So, I think I have permission to view them as inspirational pioneers for gay women everywhere. They seem okay with their status as that being acknowledged.

And for anyone who needs a little inspiration, the first gay couple in our city to get married has done fucking well for themselves. Like… ridiculously well. The house looks quite nice from the outside, nice suburban thing, but it doesn’t scream “incredibly rich”. Until you see the massive backyard, with the pool and hot tub and gazebo with lights and an outdoor fireplace and a huge amount of secluded space. Basement with a treadmill and stationary bike and other gym equipment. I’ve paid quite a bit of money for access to a hot tub and treadmill, shared with other people in a public facility. While living here, I have both those things in a house to myself for no money.

Also, you know, cats. Cats are fucking awesome. There are two of them here, and I love living with cats. This is the perfect situation. I don’t own a cat, because 1) I can’t afford it, and 2) pre-pandemic I was traveling almost every weekend to coach tournaments, last year I resumed some of the traveling, I do plan to be back on the regular traveling schedule as I get back into life. Cats aren’t like dogs, you can leave them alone for a day or so. But I can’t put myself in a position where every time I go away for more than one night, I need to get a catsitter. Because coaching at a competitive level involves going away for more than one night quite regularly.

I used to wonder how other coaches did it. Other people in the province, who are at all the same tournaments I am, and who also had to travel for them, sometimes talk about having pets. But I guess a lot of them are married, so their spouse takes care of the pet when they’re gone. They’re all in failing marriages, of course, since they’re out of town every weekend. Even the ones who aren’t using those travel weekends to cheat on their spouses in hotels with other coaches who are doing the same thing (please note: this is not a thing I know about because I’ve participated, it’s just a thing everyone knows about, but somehow it drags on for years anyway), which isn't all that many of them, are still in failing marriages due to always being away. But still, at least their spouse is there to feed the cat. If you’re going to travel a lot, the downside of being married is that you let someone else base their whole life's happiness and fulfillment on your promise to be there for them and now you're breaking that promise and thereby ruining their life, but the upside is someone to feed your cat. Or kid, for that matter. I definitely don’t understand how literally anyone has a kid, much less someone who travels most weekends for much of the year. But lots of those coaches have kids too.

I’ve never been at a point in life where I am so sure that for the 15-ish years (cat lifespan), I will be fine with being in my house at least once in the morning and once at night when a cat needs feeding, and I’m okay with the fact that if I won’t be, I’ll need to pay someone to do it for me. Even if my life’s at a fairly quiet point, I’ve never been sure enough that it’ll stay that way to think I could commit to 15-ish years of it or else an innocent creature will die. And, you know, that’s a cat. Who the fuck out there is so sure that they’ll be able to be much more present than just home once in the morning and once at night – actually they’ll be present and on-call 24/7 – for at least 18 years but really just forever, and they feel fine making such a strong commitment to that that they can never take back or else an innocent creature dies? Most people, apparently. I’m not that shocked that some people have kids, that the occasional selfless person decides to make that kind of sacrifice. What I don’t understand is why such a large percentage of people do it.

Anyway. What the fuck was I talking about, again? Right, I’m catsitting for lesbians. That was the point of this post. I'm catsitting for some very successful lesbians, and it's the perfect situation, because I get to live with cats for a few months but I don't have to pay for them, and I don't have to commit to caring for them long-term. These women in their sixties who have newspaper clippings on the fridge about their marriage and are off on their retirement trip right now... I have to admit, it's not a bad antidote to a little of my cynicism about marriage. I think these two probably did it right. Their cats are cool.

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charybdiss · 2 years

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Oh no! It's a life update from what basically amounts to a stranger who never posts to tumblr anymore! :O

Hello life has been weird and wonderful lately! Which is a shocker to those of you who do know me in some capacity since all of my life updates before I dropped off the face of the earth were pretty negative. Anyway! On with the show.

I've been working the same job for almost 4 years now (in October) and while it's not what I envisioned myself doing, it's the best paid position I've ever held and I'm finally clawing my way into a position that I could see myself staying in if they'll let me.

I'm training new hires currently, and I found out that I really enjoy teaching/training. It's technically a temporary "flex" position that may end at the end of the year but the worst thing that happens then is I go back to fielding customer phone calls for a while at the same pay rate until I am needed in the training department again.

We finally moved!! We're still renting but it's a cute little house all to ourselves with no shitty neighbors playing their music so loud it rattles the windows. We got in a huge confrontation with our neighbors in the old apartment before leaving where we had to call the cops and she basically streamed live on Facebook and all of her friends threatened to get together and "roll on us" so that was fun. I hope she got new neighbors in our place who are just as loud and obnoxious as she is. Hey, maybe the nazi and his girlfriend moved back in now that the original landlord is gone! Either way, not my problem anymore :)

I had been miserable there for over a decade already (we had been there for 16+ years at the time of leaving) but finances being what they were we couldn't really do anything about it. When we finally ripped the band-aid off and jumped into our current house, it was like night and day. I caught myself for weeks still tiptoeing around and being quiet and fearful that the neighbors could hear us. They can't!!! It's phenomenal!!! And our landlord is extremely nice and flexible and any little problems we've had with the place he has fixed as quickly as humanly possible, and lives in another town so he's never here to "drop by" and inspections aren't a thing anymore. Why didn't we move sooner? To think of all the years we wasted in misery.

I guess the final bit of news is that I'm pregnant! Which is another thing I kind of never thought would happen. We were just getting comfortable with the idea of just being cat people for the rest of our lives and I think the combination of being finally happy at work and happy at home just kind of...allowed it to happen? I don't know but we're very excited and also terrified. I just had my 20 week checkup today and everything is healthy and in order as far as docs can tell. I gave them like 8 vials(!!!) of blood a couple of months ago so they could test for everything under the sun and she looks good.

Coming up with names is extremely hard but being the dorks that we are we are not above considering our (more normal-human-leaning) Warcraft character names lmfao. ONLY IF NOTHING ELSE APPEALS TO US OMFG. We're not that cruel :)

I swear I'm not the type of person who will constantly talk about baby stuff and post baby pics (come on this is a semi-anonymous platform online and is not Facebook) but I will of course tag all of my posts about finding a name and any other wacky baby adventures under some sort of tag I have yet to come up with.

I will also reward (hahaha) your patience with this rambling life update with some drawings in a bit :D

#personal #life update #real life stuff #i don't remember how to tag or what to tag or what do do lmfao just let me know if you need something tagged and i gotchu

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simpingforsoftboys · 3 years

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Y/N and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

ft. OikAka (Oikawa x Akaashi)

!GN Reader!

Thanks so much for the request anon! Ngl I've never considered this ship but it kinda makes a lot of sense? Like damn they'd be so cute together- and with the reader? Woo! Love it! Going to go for hurt/comfort in this one!

Also yes, the title is based on that one kids book.

Today had been a pretty terrible day for you. Your boss was in a bad mood- meaning she had been increasingly rude to you throughout the day, the office's wifi cut out while you were finishing up the report you had worked tirelessly on for the past week, and you had accidentally dropped your phone in a puddle- screen down- effectively cracking the screen and rendering it unusable (since the insides got wet too). Needless to say, it was quite possibly the worst day you've ever experienced. It took absolutely every ounce of strength to prevent yourself from bursting into tears in the street. There was nothing you wanted to do besides break down and eat a tub of ice cream- actually, being comforted by your lovers would be a good alternative. The only good thing that had happened so far was getting to go home early- since your boss was not in a working mindset and instead decided to go get drunk, a little after noon. It's not really a good thing actually, just means you'll have more work to do the day after tomorrow.

Crying sounded really good right now.

Fifteen minutes later you got off the bus and walked into your apartment complex. The elevator ride to the fifteenth floor was devoid of any other residents. Alone in your misery, you allowed your bottom lip to wobble.

The elevator dings- signaling that you've arrived on your floor.

You step out of the lift and into the hall. The walk to your front door is just as long as usual but somehow feels as though it took an eternity. Seems like your bad fortune followed you home- since the house key breaks, leaving the bottom half in the lock itself.

You're locked outside.

Again, it's a struggle to hold back the tears.

Keiji and Toru wouldn't be home at the moment, since the both of them were out on a date. (There's nothing wrong with that- it's just as important to have one on one dates as it is to have dates with the three of you. You also have plenty of dates with just Toru or Keiji by themselves.) Looks like you'll have to call your landlord... oh wait your phone is broken... and you forgot that he's on his yearly vacation in Seoul at the moment.

Maybe one of your neighbors will let you use their phone to call one of your partners! Nodding to yourself, you get up and knock on Rina-san's door. She's not home. Swallowing your mild frustration, you move along the hall to the next door. Kento-san's not home either. This pattern continues for the next few doors- eventually you just give up. The other apartments are vacant after all, still under renovation.

You return back to your apartment's door and slide down to the ground- back to the wood. Lips quivering, frustration evident, you bow your head and let the tears fall. There's no other noise in the hallway aside from your quiet sobs.

Today was just the worst.

Did you accidentally upset the universe somehow? Or maybe you said something disrespectful and some culture's god was angry at you.

Tears still streaming from your tear ducts, you let your head softly slam back against the door. There's so many things you're feeling right now. Sadness- because you really wanted to have a good day and now that you can't have that you want to be comforted, resentment- at the world, at yourself, at everyone. It wasn't fair- and by that you mean everything- every single, little thing was unfair. Anger- because damnit what else could you be feeling right now? The situation was beyond your control- anyone would feel angry in your shoes. It's hard to fathom that somewhere in the world, someone was suffering worse than you were at the moment.

You didn't care about them.

All you were focused on was how you were feeling.

Thinking that way suddenly made you feel very self conscious.

Maybe there was a reason for the day going like this.

A humbling experience perhaps?

That thought had you seriously wondering if you had actually done something unfathomably terrible... but your memory came up blank.

The lift dinged.

You had to force yourself to look in the direction of the noise.

The overhead lighting seemed almost heavenly- surrounding your saviors in an unearthly way and appearing to give them halos.

Why did they look so shocked to see you?

Isn’t that what they’re here to do?

Save you from your plight?

“Y/n darling, what are you doing here on the ground?” Keiji asks, beating Toru by a millisecond and running over to your side- pulling you into his comforting embrace. His hold makes you feel safe, likening him to the firm, concrete walls of strongholds. Yes, Keiji feels secure, strong, and upright. You just know that you can collapse against him and he won’t waver.

Looks like your tears aren’t dried out yet, because you let out a choked sob, dripping snot and all- burying your face into his neck.

“Shh, it’s alright baby- me and Keiji have you.” Toru says softly, finally coming to your side and wrapping his long arms around the two of you. His hug feels different. It’s like lava- but not quite so. He could burn you- but he chooses to use his heat to bring you comfort instead- only burning those he deems a threat to what he calls his. He’s flexible but will give it all up at a moments notice- trading that mobility for statuesque stillness- letting himself cool, despite his better judgement, in order to become a tall, rock wall capable of protecting you and Keiji.

You’re warm and you’re safe.

They construct walls around you.

So you let your own walls fall, trusting them to protect you when you’re at your most vulnerable.

“I-I had a really bad d-day.” You whimper into the ravenette’s milky skin. He can feel the hot tears against the column of his neck but chooses not to say anything- instead he holds you tighter. “My boss w-was in a s-shitty mood, I couldn’t f-finish my report in time c-cause the wifi cut out. My p-phone broke- and my k-key did too-” Overwhelmed once again, you cut yourself off and fall back into silence, sniffling quietly.

“I’m sorry Y/n, you shouldn’t have had to go through all of that.” Keiji says- and you can hear the sincerity in his tone. You bask in his company for a long while, trying to pretend that time stopped- just for the three of you.

“I need to get the key out okay? Then we can go take a nice bath inside, how’s that sound?” Keiji whispers softly, not wanting to upset you but also wanting you to understand the benefit of letting him go. You’re tempted to say no- wanting to just enjoy his touch, but your rational side tells you that you’ll get all the cuddles you want once you’re in the apartment.

“O-okay... sounds good.” You move to cling to Toru, while Akaashi begins removing some bobby pins he has hidden in his hair and gets to work.

“Hey babe.” Your brunette lover murmurs, turning your chin up to gaze into his eyes. “You’re wheezing so much, am I really that breathtaking?” The two of you stare at each other- personally you don’t know if you want to laugh at his horrible attempt at humor or if you want to cry. So you settle on slapping the back of his head.

“Not the time ‘ru.” You scold, but there’s an undeniable smile on your face.

“Ouch... okay okay I’m sorry!” He apologizes, rubbing the back of his head. “I just hate seeing you so sad.”

“I know ‘ru... thank you.” Toru lets out an acknowledging hum and you can feel the way his heart beat increases ever so slightly. He’s so warm- his fiery love practically oozing out of his being. You love him so much.

A few minutes later, Keiji manages to get the broken part of the key out of the lock and the three of you can finally go home. He’s always been so clever- and you’re reminded again, why you love him.

The three of you head inside...

You take a relaxing shower (since all three of you can’t fit in the small bathtub), then cuddle up together on your king sized bed, tubs of ice cream in hand and candles lit to set the mood. Your favorite comfort show is streaming from the television, both the loves of your life sandwiching you between them, and you realize just how fortunate you are.

You’ll take as many bad days as necessary- so long as you get to come home to this.

Maybe, the universe was fair to some after all.

Just maybe- you could consider yourself one of the lucky ones.

I hope this was what you were looking for and more! It’s a little on the shorter side but I’m pretty proud of how it turned out!

#akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x gender neutral reader #akaashi x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x y/n #oikawa tooru x you #akaashi keiji x you #akaashi keiji x y/n #answered.requests #akaashi x reader x oikawa

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completely-zucked · 3 years

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I've been homeless and immobile for a while, but I'm in danger of losing my accommodation and wheels (again).

Mentally and spiritually, I have been homeless for nearly two decades. I have once again been threatened with eviction because I don't have enough money in my bank account to pay my rent or meet my car repayment and other loans. Each time it happens, things get worse and there's no negotiating.

This time around, though, I might call their bluff, because I was already being driven mad (quite literally) by the restrictions, manipulating and gass-lighting (being called a cold, uncaring self-centred, irrational, illogical, lazy, stupid, narcissistic and paranoid sociopath — enough to make a guy with self-esteem and motivation issues suicidal). What's changed is that now I've been banned from using, cleaning and/or performing any maintenance on any room in the house except my bedroom (including bathrooms and toilets), which was previously one of my responsibilities. I have to use outdoor ones/the old servants' quarters, which doesn't have a door on the bathroom. )I live in the southern hemisphere; it's winter here.) I'm not allowed to hang a curtain or take material to make one, so I use an old chlorine bucket in the passageway/corridor outside as an indicator that I'm in there. I'm not allowed to be out there past 21:00 and am not allowed to move my stuff to the servants' quarters or garage because they are being used as storage space for tools and, occasionally, as a home gym by/for my landlord. I'm also not allowed to use any tools or appliances (including vacuum, cleaners, brushes, brooms, dustpans and cloths), because no maintenance. Everything of mine that I don't keep hidden and locked away has been confiscated. Of that, everything that I bought myself has been discarded or claimed as belonging to my landlord and landlady. (My soap, of all things, was the first casualty, which is what tipped me off and prompted my buying locks for those things I could lock away.) I am also not financially able nor permitted to buy more tools, containers or locks (and replacements for those) since my finances are being scrutinised and my choices, decisions and purchases criticised.

My broom is a paintbrush, my dustpan a plastic shopping bag and my duster a roll of paper towel. My vacuum cleaner is a cardboard tube glued to a Pringles can with a PC fan inside. ... And they wonder why I've taken to doing DIY projects that repurpose recyclable household items ; how irrational of me ... Le sigh.

That means no fridge, kettle, microwave or stove. I also don't get cooked meals. That would be fine on its own if I weren't subject to restrictions. I live off powdered milk, coffee, cereal, peanut butter, marmite, bread, orange squash concentrate, syrup, biscuits and bananas. Sometimes, I skim a couple of tablespoons of yoghurt out of the container when they're not around, or dilute fruit juice with water at a ratio of about 1:3, just to have some variety/luxury. I had some meal replacement shake powder too, just to keep me from starving, but that's gone and I can't afford to replace it. If I ask for more, I'll have to pay it back; they keep track of everything they buy for me (including a bottle of vitamins) that I'll have to pay back if/when I get a job again. I already owe about $220. It was, of course, a big deal when I bought myself twelve beers on special for $9 the day I got paid for the first lot of contract work I'd done in nearly six months since losing my job, despite the guy underpaying me by just over $100 because I hadn't insisted on a written agreement and was in no position to haggle/negotiate; the last time I do favours for friends, especially those who're religious. (The fact that I'm rationing out the beers at one a week and am only on my sixth one next weekend doesn't have any relevance to my landlady, who tried to confiscate a couple with intent to give them to my landlord and made an almighty fuss about how selfish I was being when I said I'd be fine with sacrificing them if either of them had just asked for one, how she'd noticed my ex always bought the wine despite our having agreed on certain divisions of costs when we were together, and a whole lot of other irrelevant bullshit.)

I need help getting out before the end of June, assuming I find a job and somewhere to go by then. Otherwise, I'm quite likely to end up on the street or attempting to off myself again. Currently, I have no job, nowhere to go and not even enough money to buy a cheap bicycle for $175. Even if I take my car to a dealer who'll settle the balance of my loan with the bank, I get nothing for it because it's an old model which I haven't been able to afford to take better care of and is pretty much a lemon four years after I drove it off the showroom floor. (I should have traded it in after two, before the new model came out). That's the best deal I've been offered. The alternative is to either trade it in for something else and extend my loan or take an amount that's less than it's worth and continue paying off a loan for a vehicle I no longer have. Hooray for death by a thousand cuts under Consumer capitalism.

Apparently, it's all my fault for not learning my life lessons, growing the fuck up, sorting my life out and GTFO of the family home a hell of a lot sooner (by at least a decade, nearly two), when the physical abuse by my peers first started in small and subtle ways. I thought that would all be behind me when I left high school, then varsity, then two corporate jobs. But no, I'm the kind of person who attracts bullies and toxic, abusive relationships.

The moral of the story

If I had known what I now know and the lessons I have learned when I was a padawan/young twenty-something, I would have taken my education seriously and applied myself to obtaining both CS and EE degrees instead of a crappy, near-worthless diploma, moved into my own two-room shoebox as a priority and bought a bicycle instead of a car. Anywhere I can't reach by bike probably isn't worth going and a car is an immovable liability/waste of money two years after purchase. At least I would have my own space (which I so desperately crave). At least then, I could be an allegedly horrible, reprehensible and repulsive degenerate of a person all by myself without anybody to hurt or hurt me. I'm fucking done with living with other people for a while. Fuck that noise; I want a thousand days of solitude, even if it's in a corrugated iron shack in an informal settlement. I'm prepared to cook my supper in a three-legged potjie over a wood fire and boil collected rainwater in a cast iron pot while I wait for my orchard and mielies to grow.

Honestly, at this stage, I'm prepared to live on a camp bed with a sleeping bag and a camp chair and folding table in somebody's garage, undercroft or old servants' quarters (as long as there's a plug point and running water) just to be able to get away from here. I just want some space of my own to be myself (horrible or otherwise) again and keep my interaction with people to a minimum while I figure out how to cope with/manage my shitty life situation, get back on my feet and out in the world again without being scrutinised, criticised, judged, condemned, restricted, rejected and ostracised. That shit is literally making me crazy and suicidal. It is not in any way conducive to me so much as thinking of an action plan/way forward, let alone pursuing it. Yet, somehow, I still manage to restrict the time I spend buggering around on social media (still too much), which I apparently need to succeed in the modern world, hunt for jobs, write, make music and try to flog my Patreon to disinterested parties. Oh, and I'm also writing a proposal for a social media site for someone who's attempting to gather funding.

Seeing my shrink for two hours a month (which costs me a month's wages from my part-time weekend job) and the afore-mentioned job is not enough, as much as I love animals.

So if you can spare between ten and twenty-seven dollars a month to help keep me afloat, please subscribe to my Patreon. Your support will be greatly appreciated.

#homeless #immobile #I need money #finance #abuse #gaslighting

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silverlightqueen · 5 years

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Ruin My Life - Part 4

RML masterlist

(fratboy!Jimin) - fluff! angst! S M U T!!!

Summary - Someone from Y/N’s past shows up and has Jimin losing his temper ft. the boys roasting them again lol

Word Count - 6.3k+

Warnings - so smutty omg it’s like my smut scenes get filthier and filthier wow! explicit sex, possessiveness, degradation, dirty talk, d o m!Jimin, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, choking, clit slapping (and probably some more bc it’s so dirty lmao). also, violence, drug use, alcohol abuse, etc.

a/n: here’s part 4!!! I know I said i’d be gone for a while but your girl’s been going through some shit and instead of facing up to my problems and emotions like everyone else, I turn to my stories and write really explicit sex bc I can’t cope with emotional stress lol. I haven’t edited this so sorry if it’s shit. i’ll be gone for a while after this too (probably, I don’t know, I might fuck around and channel more of my emotional and psychological trauma into really explicit sex again). Hope y’all enjoy this, and message me, it makes me day (and I really need it at the moment lol)

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘y/n? Is that… you?’ I hear someone ask from behind me, the person’s voice making my blood run cold. I’d been having a fantastic time up until now. Jimin virtually hadn’t let me out of his sight all night, knowing I was worried about my ex, and, as much as I hate to admit it, I’d been loving the attention we’d received. Everyone had been whispering and staring, and I saw people eyeing up the ring as well. I’m sure that, by tomorrow, the entire university will believe that me and Jimin are engaged, and the stupid gossip page will have broadcasted it out to everyone. Not that I’m bothered. No straight girl my age would turn down this kind of attention, everyone believing that they’re with the most desirable boy anyone had ever met. I’ve been enjoying myself immensely with the boys and Mija, Jimin’s arm protectively around my waist all night. But now, the second the boys decided to go outside to bump a few lines and Mija went to the toilet, my fun is definitely about to end.

I turn on my heel, seeing him stood there in front of me, and my heart pounds. Tall and broad, soft brown hair swept up, twinkling brown eyes and smooth tan skin, he looks more handsome than ever. ‘Hey, Eunwoo,’ I reply carefully, not letting myself put any emotion into the words. ‘How are you? God, it’s been, like, what? A year, since I last saw you? How’ve you been?’ he asks. I lean against the wall with my right shoulder, looking up at him, just the two of us in a quiet corridor. ‘I’ve been good. What about you?’ I reply. ‘Yeah, I’m good. You look great, by the way,’ he says, eyes sweeping over my appearance, momentarily stopping at Jimin’s ring, the moment so fleeting that I only noticed because of how well I know him. ‘Thank you. So do you,’ I reply truthfully. ‘How is everything with you recently? I haven’t seen you at any parties. Keeping a low profile?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘The opposite actually. I go to the Alpha Sigma Phi parties instead ‘cause, you remember Kim Namjoon?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘Yeah, you two were close, right?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘Yeah, so he invites me to their parties. I’ve never actually been invited to a Kappa Phi Nu party,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘We don’t invite people, y/n. If you wanted to come, you should’ve just showed up. I’d never have turned you away, you know that,’ he says with a soft smile, something dangerous hidden beneath. ‘And you know I’d never turn up anymore without being specifically asked, or invited,’ I say, and he nods with a wistful smile. ‘We should meet up, y/n. Have a proper catch up. I’ve missed you,’ he says, and I think over my next words carefully.

‘I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Eunwoo,’ I say, and it’s almost like I see something snap inside him. ‘Why not?’ he asks, still smiling, though it looks forced now. ‘We broke up for a reason. We should just keep our distance from one another,’ I say carefully, and the smile disappears from his face altogether. ‘We didn’t break up. You dumped me, though god knows why,’ he says, trying to sound sad, but his voice shakes with the internal anger. ‘You know why, Eunwoo,’ I say, and he laughs, no humour in the sound at all. ‘So that’s why?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘Of course it was! And it was more than good enough of a reason,’ I reply, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone’s there, but all I can see is a couple making out against the wall. ‘You’re ridiculous, y/n. I was so good to you, all the time. I treated you like a queen. I spent so much money trying to make you happy,’ he says, and I scoff. ‘And that was your issue. I don’t owe you anything, just because you bought me things. You can’t buy love, Eunwoo, no matter how hard you try,’ I say, and he shakes his head angrily. ‘I made one little mistake, y/n. That’s it,’ he says. ‘One little mistake? It was hardly little, and it was hardly a mistake. You knew exactly what you were doing. It’s not like you were drunk, or high.’ ‘I was angry!’ ‘Oh, yeah? So what happens the next time you’re angry? You’ll make another little mistake, right?’ I demand, and he laughs bitterly. I wait for Eunwoo to reply but he doesn’t, eyes focused on something behind me. I turn to look, and there he is. My knight in a shining jacket.

‘Hey, princess,’ Jimin says gently, and I almost fall into his arms. It’s only then that I realise how scared I was, my heart rate rocketing and my hands virtually shaking. Jimin seems to realise it too and presses his lips to mine in a brief sign of solidarity. I can smell the fresh floral scent of the cocaine he’d probably just sniffed and his expensive aftershave, as well as the sweet scent that belongs to just him. ‘The boys all want to leave now, you ready to go?’ Jimin asks softly, his gentle voice making my heart pound. Before I can answer, though, Eunwoo starts laughing harshly. Jimin looks at him over my shoulder, acting as though he’s only just noticed him, and smiles politely. ‘Hi. Can we help you?’ Jimin asks, arm around my waist protectively, and Eunwoo shakes his head disbelievingly. ‘God, I’d heard the rumours and I didn’t believe them for a second, but I guess they’re true. This is who you’re fucking now? This short ASP dickhead, with his head stuck up his own arse?’ Eunwoo laughs, and I feel Jimin’s body become tense and taught with anger. ‘Yeah, and his dick’s better than yours was. Bigger, too,’ I say truthfully, shrugging, and Eunwoo’s eyes become dark. ‘You little bitch,’ Eunwoo says lowly, stepping towards me, and Jimin steps towards him. ‘You better watch how the fuck you’re speaking to her,’ Jimin says, his voice becoming 5 times lower than normal, slipping into his dialect. ‘And what the fuck are you gonna do about it, shorty?’ Eunwoo asks, taking another step towards Jimin, mere inches between them.

Jimin rocks back, and I already know what’s coming, having seen him do this before. Admittedly, it was to an actual punching bag rather than my ex-boyfriend, but regardless. Jimin’s fist flies through the air, landing square on Eunwoo’s jaw, his head rocking back as he stumbles to the floor. I’m frozen in my position behind Jimin when I hear Namjoon’s voice from behind me. ‘Jimin, what the fuck?’ he says, both of us turning to see the boys and Mija stood in a huddle in the end of the corridor. ‘Is that Eunwoo?’ Jin asks, looking down at the boy who’s clutching onto his jaw, groaning on the floor. ‘Yeah,’ I reply shakily as a couple of Kappa Phi Nu boys show up on the other side of the corridor. ‘Eunwoo? Did you take the stash from my room? I can’t find it,’ one of them calls before their eyes land on their brother lying on the floor. ‘Woo? Is that you?’ one of them shouts, beginning to walk towards us. ‘Let’s go!’ Hoseok calls from behind me, Jimin grabbing my arm and pulling me down the corridor away from the KPN boys. We run through the party, heading towards the front door, barging through the crowds of partygoers, hearing the KPN boys shouting behind us. Once we reach the front door, we spill out onto the front garden, laughing and breathless. A group of five KPN boys follow us out, angry, but Jin walks up towards them. ‘Who do you think you are, coming into our frat, attacking Eunwoo, feeling up Chanyeol’s girlfriend, stealing our stashes? ASP bastards,’ one of them spits at Jin. ‘First, you have no proof that we ‘attacked’ Eunwoo or ‘stole’ your stashes, and second, Chanyeol’s girlfriend made the first move,’ Jin says calmly. I look around at the boys, wondering who it was they were talking about with regards to Chanyeol’s girlfriend, but they all look just as confused as me. ‘Don’t come at us with that bull. We’ll beat the shit out of you,’ another threatens Jin, who smiles serenely. ‘I wonder what my dad, your landlord, would say if he heard you threatening us like that,’ Jin says in an even tone, the meaning behind the words very clear. ‘Fuck you,’ another hisses before they all turn away, heading back up into the party.

‘God, hyung, you’re so badass,’ Jimin says admiringly, cradling his fist in his hand. When he notices me noticing, he drops both hands, trying to act as though nothing’s happened. ‘What were you thinking, Jimin?’ Taehyung demands, all of us turning to face the boy accusingly. ‘He called y/n a bitch! And he cornered her in the corridor by herself. I was worried,’ he defends himself, everyone turning to look at me now. ‘Did he do something to you? Shall we file a complaint? We can totally sue his ass,’ Namjoon says threateningly, looking around as though Eunwoo is hiding in a bush near us. ‘What, he touched you? I swear to god, if that motherfucker laid a single finger on you, I’ll kill him,’ Yoongi begins, all of the boys now coming out with threats, holding onto their fists, looking up towards the house. ‘God, it’s like you’re stuck in some kind of shitty fanfic,’ Mija says to me quietly, and I have to hold back a laugh at how right she is. ‘Oi, dimwits! Listen!’ I say, the boys instantly falling silent. ‘He didn’t touch me. At first, he was nice and then he said we should catch up, and I said no, obviously, and then he got a little annoyed. And then Jimin showed up, kissed me, Eunwoo laughed and called him a ‘short ASP dickhead’ and then I said Jimin’s got better dick than him, and he got angry, and Jimin punched him,’ I explain briefly. ‘God, why are boys’ masculinities so fragile?’ Mija asks, all of the boys staying silent because they know she’s right.

‘What I wanna know is who got with Chanyeol’s girlfriend,’ I say, curious. ‘Oh, shit, I think that was me,’ Mija says, all of our eyes widening. ‘You think?’ I demand, and she shrugs. ‘It was at the start. I’d taken like, loads of shots, and I was pissed. A pretty girl appeared and started flirting with me, and we made out, and then she disappeared,’ Mija explains. ‘What? You’re a lesbian?’ Jungkook demands, and Mija and I roll our eyes. ‘She’s bi. Obviously,’ I say, and she nods. ‘Bi? Have you two ever, like… you know?’ Jungkook asks, looking between the two of us. ‘Are you… are you kidding me? Are you really asking if Mija and I have ever fucked?’ I ask, both of our mouths hanging open in disbelief. ‘Obviously not, Jeon! What do you think this is?’ Mija exclaims. ‘It’d be fucking sexy, though,’ Jimin says, Taehyung and Jungkook nodding in agreement, their hyungs looking at them in disgust. ‘God, it’s dogs like you three that give ASP a bad name,’ Hoseok says, shaking his head, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Would you like me to bring up our conversation in the library the other day, Hoseok?’ I say, and he falls silent sheepishly. ‘Right, can we, like, go up to the house, please? I don’t wanna stand here arguing all night,’ Yoongi says, all of turning to walk up to the house.

‘Cold, princess?’ Jimin asks, and I shake my head. He ignores me, shrugging off his jacket regardless, and holding it up to me. I roll my eyes, letting him put it on me, the material soft and warm. ‘Are you annoyed with me?’ he asks, and I think this over for a moment. ‘A little. You didn’t have to punch him, Chim. It was so unnecessary. We could’ve just left,’ I say tiredly, and he nods in defeat. ‘I know, I know, you’re right. But it just… god, it got me so angry the way he spoke to you. I don’t know your reasons for breaking up with him, and I won’t ask, but I don’t blame you at all. He’s a pompous, big-headed dick,’ he begins, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘But, that’s no excuse and I’m sorry,’ he says, warming my heart. ‘It’s okay. Just don’t do something dumb like that again. This isn’t a shitty fanfic,’ I say, repeating Mija’s earlier words, and he laughs as we reach the outside of the house. ‘Do you guys wanna eat?’ Jungkook asks, and I look at him in disbelief. ‘Are you kidding me? We had pancakes earlier, then Mija brought pizza, then we had Panda Express, and you still wanna eat? Even though it’s literally midnight?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘You’re insane,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘Does anyone else wanna eat?’ Jungkook asks, the other boys, except for Jimin, and Mija nodding. ‘You’re all crazy,’ I say in disbelief. ‘Well, we’re not eating,’ Jimin says, grabbing my hand and leading me upstairs. The boys and Mija all whistle and jeer teasingly as me and Jimin ascend the stairs.

When we reach his room, he slams the door behind him and pushes me up against it, pressing his lips to mine instantly. I melt into him, his body pressed up against mine, my head tilted back against the door as he locks it with one hand. His tongue slips past my lips, our mouths moving in perfect harmony, and I let out a soft whine when his hands press down onto my waist. ‘God, you’re so fucking perfect, y/n,’ Jimin groans at the noise, pulling me away from the door, pushing me down onto the bed instead, hovering over me. ‘He doesn’t deserve you. No one does,’ he says, eyes drinking me in as I stare up at him, laid out for him, before he captures my lips between his again. The room is dark, the only light coming from the streetlight outside the window, the bright white light giving the boy an ethereal glow, his blond hair silvery in the radiance. ‘You know I love kissing you, but I really need to do something. Is that okay?’ Jimin asks gently, and I nod. He grinds down against me, his hard-on against my thigh, and I let out a gentle moan at the feeling, slick beginning to pool in my underwear. ‘Shit, I fucking need you,’ Jimin says, pushing away from me with effort. ‘Do you want my mouth, daddy?’ I ask, sitting up, squinting in the light. ‘No, princess, it’s okay. I just want to be in you,’ he says gently, but I shake my head. ‘Please, daddy. I want you in my mouth. Please,’ I say, my eyes sliding down to the bulge in his jeans, unconsciously licking my lower lip, mouth watering at the thought of him. ‘God, princess, you don’t know what you do to me. I really want to, but this is about you. Maybe in the morning,’ he suggests, and I nod in agreement.

He pulls me down the bed by my ankles, making me giggle, and he smiles at my laughter, pulling my heels off my feet. His fingers tickle the bottoms of my feet momentarily and I let out a startled laugh, kicking at his hands so he stops. He chuckles before his hands pull his jacket off me, flinging it over his shoulder. His fingers appear at the buttons of my jeans, quickly flicking them open before he pulls the tight material down my legs, pushing them apart afterwards. Our eyes locked together, he slowly flicks open the buttons of my bodysuit, fingertips nudging against my core, and I shudder at the feeling. He grins as he pulls the material up my body, tugging it over my head and throwing it onto the pile of my other clothes. I sit up then, kneeling at the foot of the bed to take off his clothes. I unbutton his shirt as quickly as I can before pushing it off his shoulders as he kicks off his shoes and socks. I unbutton his jeans next and push them down his toned legs, watching as he steps out of them, leaving him in just his boxers. He climbs back onto the bed with me, pressing our lips together again, and as his hands ghost across my sides, I let out a moan. ‘That’s it,’ he says, unclasping my bra with ease before ripping my pants off, throwing the torn material onto the floor. He runs his fingertips over my slit and I let out a little whimper, leaning on my elbows. ‘It’s okay, daddy, I don’t need prepping,’ I say, and he chuckles, his warm breath against my core making me shiver. ‘Of course you don’t. Sluts like you are always ready for a cock in them, aren’t they?’ he growls, and I nearly celebrate aloud.

Jimin, whilst being a dom through and through, has a tendency to go easy on me. He gets worried that he’ll hurt me, and so tones down the dom behaviour quite a lot. But sometimes, he’ll lose all logic and common sense and will only hold back when I say the safe word. Until that point, he will do what he wants with me with no regard, which I have no objections to, obviously. And clearly, tonight is one of those nights, which has me over the moon, because I’ve been waiting for him to lose control with me again.

‘Answer me,’ he says, delivering a harsh slap to my core, and I gasp at the feeling. ‘Yes, daddy,’ I say instantly, and he grins, looking up at me through hooded eyelids. ‘Good girl,’ he compliments, before ducking his head and licking a stripe up my slit. ‘You taste so good, princess. This pussy was made for me to eat, wasn’t it?’ he asks, getting up off the bed and getting a condom out of the drawer. ‘Yes, daddy,’ I reply dutifully, and he chuckles, throwing the condom to me. He pushes his boxers down his legs, hard length springing up against his stomach, and kicks them away. I rip the condom open and slide it onto his length with as little contact as possible before throwing the packet to the side. ‘On your back, princess,’ he says, and I move onto my back, spreading my legs for him. ‘I’ve got such a good little whore, haven’t I?’ he chuckles, and I nod, biting my lip. He stares between my legs, almost inspecting me, before humming in satisfaction. ‘You’re dripping, baby girl, you’re the wettest I’ve ever had. You really are a little slut,’ he says, and I moan out at his words. He plunges a finger into me and I gasp at the feeling, only to have him add another, curling them against my walls. Moans and whimpers fall from my lips as he pumps in and out of my heat, adding another finger to relentlessly abuse my pussy. ‘Don’t stop, please, daddy,’ I whimper, and he chuckles. ‘You take my fingers so well, babe. My little slut is desperate to have something in her, you just keep sucking them back in,’ he laughs, pulling out of me, admiring his slick-covered digits. ‘Are you ready for my cock, princess? Do you think I’ll fit inside this tight little pussy?’ he asks, and I moan. ‘Yes, daddy, please,’ I reply and he moves over me, leaning on one forearm as he rubs his head against my folds. He sinks into me, and I gasp as he inches in slowly, enjoying the stretch as I grip onto the strong muscles of his back. He lets out a low groan, bringing his fingers to my mouth, and I suck on them, tasting myself. He bottoms out, our bodies lined up perfectly, and stays still for a moment, both of us savouring the feeling. I already feel like I won’t be able to hang on for much longer, knowing I’m going to cum after an embarrassingly short amount of time.

‘You feel so good around my dick, princess, such a good little slut for me,’ he says, beginning to thrust into me, setting a fierce pace. He pulls out until just his head is inside me before ramming all the way into me, hips pressed against mine. I let out moans louder by the second as he drills into me, the bed banging against the wall with each thrust. ‘Your cunt feels so good, it was made for my cock, wasn’t it, princess? Scream my name, baby girl, let all the boys know who’s making you feel so good,’ he prompts, not relenting with his pace at all. ‘Please, daddy, harder,’ I cry out, knowing that the other boys will be able to hear me, but not having it in me to care. His hand comes up to my neck, pressing tight against my skin and Joon’s choker that’s still around my neck. ‘My princess wants it harder? Be careful what you ask for, babe. I’ll fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk, you won’t be able to move without hurting. I want you to milk my cock, baby girl. I’ll make you into my slut, my pet whore, my good little bitch. Is that what you want, princess?’ he growls, panting, ramming into me endlessly as his hand tightens around my neck, the choking so pleasurable. My nails dig into the softness of his back, raking across the skin. ‘Yes, please, daddy! Fuck, please! Make me yours,’ I cry out, having never been fucked by him like this before, the pain only making the pleasure more intense.

‘You are mine, baby girl. And don’t ever fucking forget it. Not Eunwoo’s, understand? You’re mine, princess,’ he whispers into my ear, his thrusts becoming less forceful and more… passionate, his lips briefly meeting mine. He buries his head into my neck as his hand around it loosens, lips sucking at the skin, and I wrap my arms around him, pulling him as close as possible. ‘Say it, y/n, say it,’ he demands, thrusting deep and slow, one hand reaching between our bodies to rub against my clit. ‘I’m yours, Jimin, I’m all yours. Whenever you want me, I’m yours,’ I cry out, feeling myself nearing the edge. ‘That’s a good girl. Come on, baby girl, cum for me. Cum all over my cock, princess, soak it like a good little slut,’ he prompts, and I tense up completely, approaching my high. I let out a loud moan as I cum after one particularly hard thrust along with the continuous rubbing of his hand on my clit. ‘Good girl, that’s my good girl,’ he says soothingly, though he doesn’t let up at all, hands planted on either side of my head as his pace speeds up once more. I tremble beneath him, twitching due to the overstimulation. ‘Daddy,’ I whine, and he chuckles. ‘Hmm? Speak up, baby girl,’ he prompts teasingly, pace not faltering in the slightest. ‘It hurts, daddy,’ I whisper out, still twitching uncontrollably. ‘Aww, poor baby, but I haven’t even cum yet. Are you sensitive? Too. Fucking. Bad,’ he says, thrusting with each word, the pain of the overstimulation slowly ebbing away into mind-blowing pleasure. He reaches down for my clit again, rubbing furiously fast, and I cry out at the feeling. ‘You feel so good, clenching around my cock, princess. Felt so good to have you cumming around my cock,’ he praises, and I can sense him reaching his high too. ‘I want you sobbing, princess, I wanna milk this tight little pussy,’ he spits out, ramming into me whilst his hand works at a ridiculous pace. ‘Come on, princess, cum for me. Be a good little slut and cum for me, princess,’ he says, and I reach my high, clenching around him as I cum with a scream of his name. ‘Good girl, you’re such a good girl, princess. Your pussy was made for me, baby girl,’ he moans, hips stuttering and his thrusts becoming slower. ‘Fuck, I’m gonna cum, y/n,’ he shouts out, burying his cock deep inside me and his head falling against my neck as he releases into his condom.

We both stay as we are, letting out deep breaths, the smell of sex on the air intoxicating. ‘Am I tripping… or was that the best we’ve had?’ he breathes out, and I feel him softening inside me. ‘You’re not tripping, babe,’ I reply breathlessly, and he chuckles. ‘We are going to get ripped apart by the boys,’ he laughs against my skin, and I already dread having to leave his bedroom. ‘We’ll just stay in here all night,’ I joke, and he cuddles up against me. ‘That sounds like a plan,’ he replies, voice muffled against my shoulder. We stay cuddled up like that for a while, running my fingers through his hair, the only noise being our breathing. After a few minutes, I start to feel too hot and sweaty, and I need to go for a wee. ‘Babe, we need to get up,’ I say, and he whines. ‘Just five more minutes, princess,’ he pleads, and I have to use every ounce of my self-control to stop myself from giving in. ‘No, baby, I need a wee,’ I say, and he sighs. He presses his lips to mine briefly before rolling off me. I smile at him as I slowly get up out of the bed, heading over to his en suite. I go for a quick wee and when I come back out, Jimin’s holding out a pair of clean pants and a white hoodie for me to wear, as well as a pair of white Nike socks. I pull the clothes on with an appreciative smile, Jimin putting on a clean pair of boxer and a pair of black sweatpants, his torso bare.

‘Come on, princess, let’s get you some water, and something to eat,’ Jimin says gently, entwining his fingers with mine, leading me out of the room and downstairs. We pass through the dark living room where Jungkook and Yoongi are lit up by the light from the TV, both of them fast asleep on the sofas, in their pyjamas now. In the kitchen, Jin, Namjoon and Hoseok sit around the breakfast bar, having changed out of their party outfits, also in their pyjamas. ‘Did you really just get fucked whilst wearing Joon’s choker?’ Hoseok asks me, Namjoon’s mouth hanging open in disbelief. ‘Um… yeah. Sorry, Joon,’ I say sheepishly, and he shakes his head as Jimin pours me out a glass of water. ‘Just keep the choker, please,’ he says, mild disgust on his face, the other boys laughing. ‘I’ll buy you a new one,’ I promise, and he shakes his head with a small smile. ‘It’s alright, you don’t have to. I don’t think I’ll ever wear it,’ he says as Jimin hands me the water, and I thank him with a gentle kiss on his cheek.

‘Where’s Mija?’ I ask after taking a sip of the water, and they all grin. ‘In Tae’s room,’ Jin replies, and my eyes widen. ‘Wait, why’s she in Tae’s room? And where’s Tae?’ Jimin asks, and we all turn to look at him with confusion on our faces. ‘Um, he’s in his room? With Mija? The two of them are in there together? Alone, just them two?’ Jin says slowly, waiting for it to sink in, and Jimin realises with a loud gasp. ‘Oh, my god! Are they like… fucking?’ Jimin asks, and Hoseok shrugs. ‘We haven’t heard anything, unlike you two loud bastards, but god knows. They might be. They were all pally-pally down here first, all cuddled up, and then Mija said she wanted to get changed into something more comfy, and Tae went up with her. They only went up about ten minutes after you,’ he explains, and I feel myself getting excited with his words. Ever since Mija’s high school boyfriend cheated on her, Mija’s completely shied away from any kind of romantic relationship, just the very occasional one-night stand with a complete stranger. So, if it is true, this is completely new for Mija, new to see her getting close with someone she’s known for a while. ‘They probably got turned off by hearing you two screaming next door,’ Namjoon says drily, Jimin swatting out at him in good-humoured annoyance. ‘Tae’s room’s next door to yours?’ I ask Jimin, who nods with a roll of his eyes. ‘I’ve had to listen to the various girls he brings home, so he can listen to you and me. Karma’s a bitch,’ Jimin says remorselessly, and I laugh at the thought of Jimin lying there, trying to sleep, listening to Tae fucking some girl next door.

‘Do you guys want something to eat? You must be hungry after that. I would be,’ Hoseok says shamelessly, and I feel blood rushing to my face in embarrassment. ‘Am I really that loud?’ I ask sheepishly, and Jin takes pity on me, putting an arm around my shoulders. ‘No, y/n, you’re not. You can only hear if you’re on the same floor, and we have to go past Jimin’s room to get to our bedrooms. That’s the only reason we heard,’ Jin says, making me feel a bit better, though not much. ‘Do you think the other boys in the frat can hear?’ I ask, and the boys all laugh. ‘I hope not, we’ve got a no-girls policy,’ Jimin says, all of them laughing even harder. ‘Guys, that’s so mean,’ I say in shock, trying not to laugh, ‘will I get in trouble if they find out?’ ‘Remember who owns the house, y/n,’ Namjoon says, and I shake my head, feeling terrible that they all take advantage of Jin’s dad owning the house. ‘Here,’ Jin says, pushing a plate of pasta towards us, having just microwaved it for us. ‘Thanks, Jin,’ I say, taking a seat, and Jimin sits beside me. ‘Do you guys get offended that I don’t call you my oppas?’ I ask. ‘No, I don’t mind. I don’t like being called oppa. It’s too sexualised now,’ Namjoon says, Hoseok and Jin nodding in agreement. ‘I get offended,’ Jimin jokes, and I roll my eyes. ‘God, so you have a daddy kink, and an oppa kink?’ I tease, the other boys laughing.

‘You might want to stop talking, y/n, because you’ve got a whole lot of kinks I can expose,’ he says threateningly, and I immediately fall silent, the other boys intrigued. ‘Come on, Jimin, you can’t leave us hanging,’ Hoseok says, and Jimin shoots me a mischievous look. ‘Well, let’s just say, y/n can be a bit of a masochist,’ he says, and I gasp at his betrayal. ‘Says you, Mr. ‘I like your nail marks on my back’! You’ve probably got some marks now, actually. I even made you bleed once, and you didn’t mind! And you’re a sadist! You get off on seeing me in pain!’ I exclaim, and now it’s Jimin’s turn to gasp. ‘Well, you like being spanked!’ he fires back. ‘No, it’s you that likes spanking!’ I correct him heatedly. ‘You’re into degradation!’ ‘You’re the one that started degrading me!’ ‘You didn’t complain though!’ ‘Well, you enjoy edging me!’ ‘At least I can give you fucking orgasms to be able to take them away! And it’s not like you complain about that, either! Or overstimulation!’ ‘I complain about that every time! I did today, did I not?’ ‘But you never use the safe word!’ ‘Well, you’re a total voyeur! You love watching me get myself off!’ ‘And you love watching me too, so don’t even try to deflect that onto me! And you love being humiliated as well!’ ‘No, you love humiliating me!’ ‘You love it too! And you love bondage!’ ‘Well, you love exhibitionism!’ ‘And so do you, y/n!’ ‘Well… well… you love using toys on me!’ I exclaim, knowing it’s something that I don’t enjoy as much as he does, and then he falls silent.

‘Are you two fucking done?’ Yoongi’s gravelly voice comes from the door, Jungkook stood beside him. ‘Yeah, we are, hyung,’ Jimin says venomously with an evil glare my way. ‘Well, it’s too late now. You’ve already woken us up,’ Yoongi says tiredly, taking the seat on my other side. ‘God, you two are some freaky little shits,’ Hoseok says, looking between us both with a grimace. ‘I can confirm that Jimin is a voyeur. He was watching me and y/n like we were some HD porn, or something,’ Jungkook says, stealing a forkful of our pasta. ‘Um, Kook! That’s the only thing you can confirm? What about everything else?’ Jimin asks indignantly. ‘Um… I can confirm that you’re both into degradation and humiliation, edging, overstimulation. I don’t know about the masochism and sadism, though. That’s fucking weird,’ Jungkook says, sitting down beside Namjoon. ‘Don’t kink shame them. Just be thankful they’re not into piss play, or something gross like that,’ Jin says, both Jimin and I scrunch our faces up in disgust. ‘I am never letting you piss on me,’ I say to Jimin, whose eyes widen. ‘What the fuck, y/n? I wouldn’t want to anyway, and you know that!’ he says, and I supress a smile at his disbelief. But, before anyone can say anything else, Taehyung walks in, wearing a long hoodie and a pair of boxers.

He stops at the door, surprise and guilt etched all over his face, and we all stare back at him. ‘Why aren’t you guys in bed yet? It’s like, 1.30,’ he says, his voice deep and husky. ‘We could ask you the same thing, hyung,’ Jungkook says mischievously, and Taehyung’s face breaks into a grin. ‘A gentleman never tells,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘You’ve basically just told us,’ I say, the boys laughing. ‘I wouldn’t say anything if I were you, y/n, considering how loud you were about twenty minutes ago,’ Taehyung fires back, and I fall silent sheepishly. ‘What was she saying, hyung?’ Jungkook asks curiously, and I shake my head at Tae. He hesitates, our eyes meeting, before the signature boxy smile breaks across his face. ‘Please, daddy, harder! Don’t stop, daddy, please! Make me yours, daddy! Daddy, it hurts! I’m all yours, Jimin!’ Tae says, moaning in a high and affected voice, the boys all laughing. ‘Tae!’ I exclaim, and he points at me. ‘Exactly like that, except it was for Jimin,’ he says, and my head falls into my hands.

‘Aww, princess, it’s okay, don’t be embarrassed. Just own it,’ Jimin says comfortingly, putting an arm around my shoulders. And then I get an idea to gross the boys out even more. I sit up, leaning towards Jimin, and press my lips to his jaw. ‘I’m not embarrassed. I’ll never be embarrassed of how well you fuck me… daddy,’ I say, the boys all groaning as Jimin chuckles, capturing my lips with his. Our mouths move in sync, as his hands tangle into my hair and my hands run across his back. I can feel the bumps from where I scratched him earlier and I break away from him, ignoring the exclamations of the boys. ‘Oh, my god, turn around,’ I say, and he does so with a confused look on his face. I gasp when I see the bright red scratch marks on his back, the other boys doing the same when they see them too. ‘God, babe, don’t they hurt?’ I ask, running my fingers gently over the marks, and he shakes his head. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, feeling ridiculously guilty, and he turns back to face me. ‘Don’t be, it’s okay,’ he replies, pressing his lips to mine briefly. ‘God, can you two just get married already?’ Jin says, watching us with a fond look on his face. ‘Well, they’ve got a kid on the way, haven’t they?’ Jungkook jokes, the boys all laughing as Jimin and I give him dirty looks. ‘It might be yours, Kook,’ Namjoon reminds him, the boy turning pale as Jimin and I give Joon the dirty looks instead. ‘It’s mine,’ Jimin says definitely, and I can’t keep the smile off my face as he pulls me into his arms. ‘If it exists,’ Yoongi reminds us, and Jimin rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t burst our bubble, hyung,’ Jimin says.

‘What, so you want a baby?’ Tae asks, and Jimin and I share a glance before he answers. ‘Well, it wouldn’t be ideal but we’d make great parents, right, y/n?’ Jimin says, and I nod in agreement. ‘I’m not having any kid of ours live in this frat, though,’ I say, the boys all letting out reproachful exclamations. ‘She’s right. Our little angels are not growing up in this kind of environment,’ Jimin says, the boys gasping. ‘Angels?’ Namjoon asks, and Jimin and I share another glance. ‘Yeah, we planned our own little family,’ Jimin says, the boys looking at us in disbelief. ‘First, a boy called Park Taemin. Then, a girl called Park Jisoo. Then, a boy called Park Minjoon, and last, a girl called Park Mila,’ I list off, waiting for the boys to rip us apart. ‘Oh, my god, Minjoon is mine,’ Jungkook says instantly. ‘Fine, but I call dibs on Mila,’ Yoongi says quickly. ‘I call dibs on Jisoo,’ Hobi says. ‘I call dibs on Taemin,’ Namjoon says, the boys all saying the names of the ones Jimin predicted earlier. ‘Well, I call dibs on all four,’ Jin says. ‘That’s not fair! What about me?’ Tae whines, and I let out a noise of annoyance. ‘Stop calling dibs on mine and Jimin’s children!’ I exclaim, Mija walking in as the words come out of my mouth. ‘You know what?’ she says, sitting down beside Tae, ‘I don’t even want to know.’

#bts #bts series #jimin #park jimin #BTS jimin #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #BTS au #bts angst #park jimin smut

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malicedragoness · 5 years

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Really messed up dream

So I had this dream towards the end of October and it’s still on my mind. I just thought I would share it with you guys and maybe one day, make into a story. It’s got fantasy aspects and some horror. So if you’re not into that, I’m putting it below the cut.

So the dream starts with me walking into a huge city where people are getting everything ready for a big event. It’s a fantasy world where technology was first being introduced and invented. Almost like Fable 2 in a way, but there were televisions and cameras.

So every year, this city has a ‘running of the bulls’ type of event. But instead of bulls, it’s these bird/human hybrids, almost like harpies. And if they catch you, they get to eat as much of your body as they want.

The city has twelve ‘town squares’, which are used as zones. Only one of them is a safety zone, while people were carting torture racks and devices to other eleven. They walked around with them to throw everyone off, and the zones were closed off and barricaded for the event.

I ran across this skinny homeless woman in a wheelchair that had no legs. She had survived in one of the events years ago. She told me that this one birdman named Cyber had captured her and broke her legs in multiple places before taking his time to eat them. He took about two hours devouring her legs! She also used to be an obese woman, and now she’s super skinny.

She told me that the city has to do this event once every year in order to avoid a war with the birdmen. Otherwise the entire city is fucked. She thinks it’s a ploy from the rich in order to keep the poor and lower middle class in order. The rich people of the city are able to stay safe by locking up in their homes and watching the event on their tvs.

I continued to walk around, watching the townspeople set up for the event. And you would think they would be scared shitless but they weren’t! They were excited to see people eaten alive! Some of them put on birdmen costumes and face paint as if this was a goddamn football game.

When it was getting close to the start of the event, I happened into a house where people gathered and they had a shot ton of food and beer. Watching as the count down went off signaling the start of the night.

I watched as people ran about the city trying to figure out where the ‘safe zone’ was. The safe zone is one of the town squares where there were no torture devices. But if they stumbled upon one of zones with torture devices... they’re fucked.

The birdmen themselves were perfect hybrids of man and bird, but can turn into a harpy form when they take flight and hunt. They showed certain ones on the television giving their stats, as if they’re MMA fighters.

Their name, colors, how many times they’ve appeared at the events, how many people eaten. And they would show when they swoop down and capture a person and take off with them.

- - - -

So I understand if you’re pretty creeped out by my dream. Believe me, I am too.

I spoke with a good friend of mine that I haven’t talked to in months. We love talking about dream theory and Carl Jung’s dream archetypes. I knew he would appreciate such a trippy dream. Now keep in mind, I haven’t spoken to him in months and he has no idea whats going on in my life.

He told me that birds tend to represent freedom in dreams. Being able to fly away from problems and be free.

He then asked me if I was having financial troubles, and I told him yes. This was when our landlord told us he’s selling the house and we need to leave, I got into a fender bender, and my husband was fired from his job. So things were very stressful.

He infers that since the birds were attacking specifically poor people, that my ‘freedom to do what I wanted’ was mad at my lack of money in order to provide the things I wanted to do.

Which at the time was true. I had wanted to get new glasses for myself, it’s been years since I’ve gotten new ones and I need a new prescription. I wanted to leave the shitty job I was at. And I wanted to be able to buy myself some nerdy things, and buy my daughter some cutesy clothes and toys.

I do agree with his assessment on what my dream represented, despite how fucked up it was.

But, I was really just posting it because it was pretty cool and maybe one day I’ll turn it into a story.

Let me know your thought! :D

#dreams #dream theory #running of the birdmen

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wond3rstruk · 5 years

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SONG PREDICTIONS

(inspired by @redlipclassicswiftie13)

1. I Forgot That You Existed-- I high key think this is going to be about Taylor forgetting happiness existed. I think its going to open the album up about how after 2016 she felt probably isolated and sad that when the storm finally started to pass, she forgot what happiness, support, love, etc. was like and the feeling of allowing happiness back in after a hard time.

2. Cruel Summer -- Then it takes us back to that cruel summer of 2016, the time when she truly forgot that happiness existed

3. Lover -- About the happiness and love Joe gives her (obvi more, but for times sake)

4.The Man -- She contemplates if her career would be different as a man. Would she have witnessed less disrespect and bullying (yes, smh)

5.The Archer -- anxiety of letting people in when you want to push them away (again, obviously more... but we all know)

6. I Think He Knows -- Ok I’m torn on either a sarcastic IDSB theme or like maybe I think he knows I love him? Like after she let him in (overcome archer anxiety), she sings about the feeling when you love someone but havent told them just yet

7. Americana & Prince -- lol dude i have no clue wtf this is could be about. This is gonna be a wild ride

8. Paper Rings -- Maybe like loving someone so much but not being ready for marriage? Like the steps before marrying someone -- moving in, discussions about family/future/etc., raising the itty bitty kitty committee together?

9. Cornelia St-- I tihnk about expectations vs reality. High expectations of moving and living to NY (i.e., 1989, WTNY) vs. the things that may actually happen that aren’t ideal (e.g., for NYC people -- shitty landlord, hot apartment, crappy stove)

10. Death By A Thousand Cuts -- feeling of betrayal after someone who let you in and trust you “stabs you in the back while shaking your hand”

11. London Boy -- Hi, Joe!

12. Soon You’ll Get Better -- so I think, I THINK, I read a rumor Tay had to leave for this one. So I’m already scared, but I think it’ll be about Andrea? And adjusting to sickness in the family? Idk I already know to grab tissues for it.

13. False G-d -- OK either when someone you look up to lets you down. OR a fucking joke about how we literally make shrines and prayer candles for Taylor as if she were a false Gd and how we NEED to calm down lmao

14. YNTCD -- chill tf out and live your life!!!

15. Afterglow -- I’m excited for the mystery behind this one! Maybe... like ok ya know how after you have an amazing thing happen to you, you cant stop smiling and people are like wow you’re radiating or you’re glowing? Maybe like about that feeling???

16. ME! -- SPELLING IS FUN PPL!!!

17. It’s Nice to Have a Friend -- Ok am I the only one who sings “You’ve got a friend in me” whenever they read that song title? Ok Just me? Got it. Well maybe this is a happy song about realizing who your friends are. Or a sad song about losing friends? Either way I am here for it.

18. Daylight -- after everything that happens. The good, the bad, the medium... Just take it for what it is and step into the damn daylight and let it the fuck go.

#song predictions #cant wait to read this in like 16 hours and laugh at how wrong and stupid i am #or am i genius....#no lol #FYI i havent read any spoilers about songs from secret sessioners #so this is all blind (except what i wrote about tk 12)#YOU GUYS SHOULD TRY THIS TOO #i know no one will read it #BUT I WILL #:)#ts7 #lover #album #prediction

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yettoberefuted · 5 years

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Like I’ve been away for sometime doing some spring/summer cleaning. I’ve been gushing about my apt for while now and its progress. After getting from a funk I just wanted to do some personal thoughts on it.

After scrubbing the floors all day and lightening the grout I come to appreciate how big this place is. And just how lucky I am even though this in a middle of a shady neighborhood. (with kids walking to school all day but I saw a car on fire a street over a few weeks ago) You see. This was not my first choice in getting an appartment. In fact I started from just 1000 with my bf in a shitty one room apartment that was in a WAAAAAY worse part of town. Like junkies and homless people around the complex that type of neighborhood. And leaving my actual home. I never felt SAFE. Like physically safe. And the first apartment we had was enough to get us by. We move into this apartment because at the time my boi knew the landlord of the apartment complex. And this person was squating. Till she left mysteriously (I mean she was getting by with the fireplace for heat source but dang..) But in general we had old hand me down furnature from EVERYWHERE. The thing that was actually ours was the bed, tv, bookshelves and clothes. Everything was either given to us from the computer shop my boifriend worked at, and a tossed away bookshelves that are heavier then god intended too. A couch that was just given to us. And thats was it. It was jank it was getting by. And even though I moved from one terrible place to a lesser one. I had just wanted to move right away. Maybe up town or something. Somewhere I could walk because I was afraid to step out and walk around. (still getting it but not as much) I never...had this place that I could call home. It was just a borrowed place. I felt like I was just there and the space didn’t belong to me. ugh. And over the years, five or so..just kinda started building on one thing or another. Got some black chalkboard paint. because why not. Finally had the courage to hang things up because every person on the web is like HOLE LESS ALTERNATIVES that only work for the flimiest papers and frames will be on the ground within a week. Made that old couch work for me. And kinda finally said fuck it and embrace the wood and black aesthetic that was thrusted upon me. It wasn’t no where near my parents cream and warm colored aesthedic. It still says I am childish looking at that picture hahah. But stepping back and taking that picture. I could honestly say for the first time. That this is mine. This is what me and my boyfriend had just built up. Be the place where people come and have boardgames every other week and D&D

Feels like its finally home.

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ofluciana · 5 years

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“ she told me that love is a loaded gun that she’s been trying to dodge for many years now. .”

LUCIANA ZABINI is 30 years old and works as a FREELANCE POTIONEER/PHILANTHROPIST and is loyal to THE DEATH EATERS they were an SLYTHERIN and are a PUREBLOODED. SHE looks like AJA NAOMI KING.

CHARACTER PARALLELS: gloria delgado ( modern family ), cersei lannister ( asoiaf ), irene adler ( sherlock ), amy dunne ( gone girl ), katherine pierce ( the vampire diaries ), tahani al-jamil ( the good place ), michaela pratt ( htgawm ) AESTHETIC: pearl necklaces, heels longer than your d*ck, red wine stains on white blouses, perfect manicures, finding loneliness both a comfort and a hauntingly scary thing, gold eyeliner, faux fur coats, reveling in your own beauty and not apologising for it, silk sheets, childhood memories you’ve buried, dark purple lipstick LINKS: stats. pinboard. character tag. playlist. HEADS UP: there’s mentions of abuse ( spousal, child ), alcoholism and murder in here. all are marked at the bulletpoint!

history

luciana is born ready for a life of nannies, of pampering and being spoiled and getting everything she wants. for the first few years of her life, that’s exactly how it goes, too. her father’s a successful businessman, having connections all over the world, his business bringing in the money the zabini’s depend on, breathe on, sleep on. her first four years are spent on silk sheets and expensive clothes, in a massive penthouse apartment overseeing swansea.

it all falls to pieces when her father’s debts catch up on him and he goes bankrupt. there’s no money left. it’s a surprise to her mother, who thought business was booming and that there was nothing to worry about, but they have to move out either way, swap their massive place for a tiny flat in italy that just fits three people. elizabeth is four years old and doesn’t understand what is going on.

[ spousal abuse tw, alcoholism tw, child abuse tw her father starts drinking. a lot. he goes job hunting every day, at least, that’s what he says, and comes home smelling of booze and stumbling every evening. at one point, he starts drinking at home, too, having lost any sense of pride. the zabinis have been knocked from their pedestal, so there’s no room to pretend at home. when he starts drinking at home, the fights between him and luciana’s mother increase. her mother screams and her father sits still until he’s done listening and ends the fight with a smack against a cheek or something more. his anger turns to her at times, too, but not as much as it does to her mother, but it does, and that’s enough for her hate to start growing.

her mother starts growing absent, too. hiding in her bedroom or slipping from the house to visit friends and family and her other lover, leaving luciana alone with her father, or completely alone. the situation worsens. luciana learns to escape, to tune out the world around her, to let her imagination run wild. she keeps her hate and grudges locked up in her chests and learns to cry quietly. end of tws ]

they are kicked out of their house for the first time when she’s ten. they couldn’t make rent for the second month in a row and their landlord is done. her parents play the blaming game and luciana cries in the dry sheets at the motel they stay in now. they itch and are cold and she just wants a place to call home.

at least she can go to hogwarts half a year later. she had been enrolled there since birth, so of course she goes there. her parents don’t move to the UK, not wanting to face the pureblood families they used to see so very often before.

hogwarts is an escape, a place for luciana to leave behind the endless fights and the new shitty flat and to focus on something else than keeping quiet and not becoming too bored. she’s sorted in slytherin, like her mum was ( her dad went to school in italy, never even saw inside hogwarts, and perhaps that made the place even better ) and flourishes. socially, academically: suddenly luciana grows into something more than what she was before, learns how to use her disadvantages as advantages.

she mixes with the pureblood crowd like she should have done years ago, tells lies as to why she wasn’t at many events ( things like we moved to italy because of a grand business opportunity there and our mansion looks out over the mediterranean sea! ) and reconciles with people she went on playdates with before everything turned to shit. she gets into the slug club, grows ambitious when she finds out she has skills, proper skills, in potions.

her ambition becomes a drive, becomes a plan: she signs up for summer internships, for ways out of the live she has been living so far. she talks to slughorn ( who likes her, even if her dad’s a failure ) and searches for opportunities, chances, anything to become successful, to do what a zabini is supposed to do. to do what her shitty excuse of a father failed to do.

once graduated, she starts working to earn the title of potioneer, staying in contact with slughorn and meeting members of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, making connections and impressions. she’s nineteen when she gains the title. she’s one of the youngest who gets the title and she’s reveling in it. she starts making potions for st mungo’s and the aurors, works freelance, and so for no one but those she wants to work with. she makes her own money, and feels on top of the world.

luciana’s climb on the social ladder does not go unnoticed, and at the age of twenty four she marries a rich pureblood man (1973). she swaps the apartment she shares for his mansion and pretends to love him. she doesn’t, of course --- she wants his money, his power, to climb up that ladder, to have a taste of the life she should have had all that time.

[ abuse tw ] she doesn’t love him and he doesn’t love her either, no matter what he thinks or says. he’s not like her father, but he’s not unlike him either. he’s successful and respectable and doesn’t smell of alcohol but he does have hard hands and mean eyes. he wants her to love him like he thinks he loves her and his frustration doesn’t push him to leave, it pushes him to stay. luciana hates him, but she fears him, too. and fuck it, she’s done being scared.

[ murder tw ] he dies, after one and a half year of marriage, in 1975. a potion – a poison – stops his heart, making it seem like a natural death. he’s too young to die this soon, but no one stops to question it. why would they question it? luciana zabini’s potions are excellent. she makes no mistakes. she wanted him dead and she wanted no blame and she gets what she wants and she feels like she can breathe again. she cries tears at his funeral and spits on his grave when everyone has left.

there’s something twisted in elizabeth, like there’s in every zabini, in every rowle: it’s always been there, but the moment she starts toying with the idea of poisoning her husband, it grows. she makes the poison herself and feels the most alive than she ever has, and while she tells herself that she’s doing it for herself, for her own safety, somewhere, it’s also because she wants power. him dying would leave her a fortune, and she needs it. she could have just left him, but she wanted him dead. gone. [ end of tw’s ]

she’s not particularly keen to marry again. luciana keeps her dead husband’s name and stays in his mansion and revels in the wealth and tries to heal herself. she soothes her spirit and focuses on her potions and herself. she learns where her soul is still bruised and takes care of them and vows to never press down on those spots again.

in 1977 she marries again. not for love, or for money, per se ( though she doesn’t mind his money, if she’s honest ) but because she wants a child. easy as that. life is lonely, all alone in that bloody house that’s not hers. aurelius fawley is a good husband, that much can be said. he’s a man still, of course, and luciana doesn’t like men all that much. she has a good time with him --- they travel and laugh and drink expensive bottles of wine and appear at galas with white teeth smiles.

aurelius fawley is also a death eater, which is how luciana gets involved. he tells her how they could use her potions and her mind, and she says she’ll help him under the condition that she won’t have to take the mark ( the tattoo, she finds ugly ). luciana does believe in blood purity, but she cares more about power. helping the death eaters in a small way is a sure way to ensure that she has a foot in the door on the winning side. she doens’t mind that, at all. ( she does think they will win --- she knows dark magic and knows that the death eaters will wield it more easily than anyone who opposes them )

[ murder tw ] he dies in september 1979, when she’s seven months pregnant. he dies during a battle, drops to the floor like that, is unmasked and his name appears in the press. aurelius fawley --- fallen death eater, murdered in the crossfire. she hopes the ministry pats themselves on the back for his death, and that the order does, too. of course --- it was a potion, again, that killed him, clogging up his arteries and slowly taking his life away.

she kills him because, quite frankly, she doesn’t want her child to have a father, doesn’t want him to be the father — she doesn’t love him, and she won’t let her son grow up with parents who don’t love each other, like she had. she won’t allow that. she holds the cards, and she decides to stop the game and win. [ end of tw ]

blaise zabini is born 15 november 1979 and she loves him more than she has ever loved anyone else. actually, she understood what love was for the first time when she learned she was pregnant. she promises him the world and the stars and sun. everything.

luciana takes back her maiden name after aurelius’ death, too. she says it’s because she doesn’t want to be affiliated with his name, with his death eater name, because she appears to be shocked and disgusted by his role in the war. of course, it’s not because of that ( though she does value reputation, too ) but because she wants to reclaim zabini, the name her father destroyed, but the name she will use to build an empire. her son will not be named after the idiot who dared marry her --- he will be named after her, and be part of her world.

luciana is still making potions, though more for friends and acquaintances (and death eaters), but has put her career on a backburner. she’s found a better way to make money, after all, her two dead husbands have taught her that. besides that, she’s a single mother, and most of her time is eaten by blaise, blaise, blaise. she has cut ties with her parents at this point, has left her past behind and not looked back, and in stead only focuses on the future. she focuses on pretending to grieve and raising her son and being the face of perseverance for other widows ( because god knows the war makes many ). she wears red silk and red lipstick and cries fake tears and flips her hair and is in search for a new man to marry, eventually, to pretend to love, to steal his money from when he dies under strange circumstances.

personality and tidbits

we love an amoral queen!

luciana has built a name for herself. she came to hogwarts having to remind people of her family’s legacy and has started to build her own and she’s earned respect, i imagine. she’s quite charismatic and charming and loves all kinds of pureblood functions.

really loves. red wine. so much. oh my GOD. she’s not touching it rn though but akjdfsdf she loves it so much, will rave about it forever.

a walking set of aesthetic goals.

i guess ... there are suspicions about luciana out there? i imagine there’s aurors side eyeing/following her, maybe she’s been taken in for questioning ... there’s definitely rumours in witch weekly but also, that magazine is a bit dramatic im sure LMAO. she loves it all. she thinks she’s invincible.

so -- she’s a philanthropist and that is something she takes very seriously? luciana knows what it’s like to be poor and to be disadvantaged and all that fucking shit. of course, it helps with her image, but ... she does it out of genuine caring? i imagine she likes throwing big charity events, fundraisers and stuff.

i mean --- her life is very different from what it was before, and she could just ignore her past and focus on her future, and she does in a sense, but she doesn’t want to brush over her own experiences and belittle them and especially doesnt want to ignore the reality of the world? so yeah. she’s a giving person akjdfsdf.

she loves jazz

honestly this is fucking long

she has a dog!!!! her name is hera and she looks like this and it’s the most extra dog i have ever seen which means she LOVES IT

luciana is ... self centered. arrogant. haughty. fucking caught up in her own shit but ---- the world never gave her anything, so why should she give it anything back? she’s living life for herself and for her son and the rest of the world can perish.

bitter bitch, rich bitch, beautiful bitch.

i was reading a dance with dragons earlier and jon snow described val as lonely and lovely and lethal and that’s her!

a grieving :( single :( mother :( who is in shock :( that her husband was an evil man :( poor her :( uwu :(

she’s lying about everything and everyone but we stan!!

plots!

mr future husband --- well, this depends ... on if youre down? luciana probs wont get married until after the end of the war so this wont happen in game BUT it would be lit to plot it out long term? this could be any kind of person, as long as they have monaye. ive had her marry a muggleborn before just to be like ... i am NOT a death eater! or a purist! (she is). this man will get killed. to death.

idk i will add more when i wake bc i have to sleep and this got so long and im so tired SORRY

#maraudrs:intro

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too-many-plants-man · 3 years

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I hated working in call centers so much because of how dehumanized we are. People treat us as less than and verbally abuse us for not being able to fix problems that are too far gone and are the direct result of the customer's mistake or are completely out of our hands because the independent contractor fucked up and there's no way to communicate with them to fix it (by design, it's not a flaw but it makes the job harder).

The nicest customers I've spoken too were more often than not night owls who were lonely and needed someone to chat with. Almost no one calls a call center to give praise. It's strictly for complaints that couldn't have been resolved by the chat or email system. Or for people who think they're God's gift to mankind and want everyone to cower in fear of losing their source of income.

I've had customers who didn't realize I was a person and just kept screaming "refund" like I was some shitty program missing the audio queue. I had customers who've called me slurs, who've verbally abused me until I cried and I'm not allowed to hang up without permission. I've had customers who don't even let me say more than a few words before immediately screaming to speak to a manager.

There are no managers. There haven't been any managers in a long time. I can't explain that concept to them because they think "Lead" and "Manager" are the same position and get angry if I challenge their belief.

I've had two hour phone calls that go nowhere because the customer (whose problem was already resolved thirty minutes into the call which started with verbal abuse) won't let me speak and goes on and on about how they don't respect my job or anyone who works retail or fast food or waitressing or bussing or all the other shitty jobs out there because they're an accountant, trophy wife, lawyer, business owner, landlord, esty vendor, the list goes on.

The customer is always right is a lie made by customers to treat people like shit until they get what they want. I have gone out to eat with people like that in the past and I've been embarrassed to be seen with them because of how they treat hard working people. The service is slow because there aren't enough employees to do what needs to be done so they're doing fucking everything. The waitress is rude because she works a shit job with no health insurance where people leave pamphlets about how "God will provide" that looks like money at first because some coward hides behind God to avoid tipping the waitstaff that makes 2$/hour.

People joke about the welcome to chili's bit but, it's fucking hard to bring that kind of energy 10 hours into what was supposed to be an 8 hour shift but they're shortstaffed and now you're working your third double this week. You're hungry, people are under tipping and the other waitstaff split tips to try and make ends meet. At least one customer a shift screams at you to get a free meal or a coupon for the next one.

One of my brothers and one of my sisters both worked in the same restaurant for years and there were so many times I didn't get to see them because they were made to work another double so they opened and closed for the third or fourth day in a row and they're so burnt out that they'll sleep through their few days off to do the same shit all over again.

My main complaint about my current job is just how ridiculous people are being about Covid. But I live in a r*d st*te do it's not surprising.

#mpp #2021 Aug 29

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cactigratitudelove · 6 years

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Cacti, Gratitude, and Always Love.

As I write this I find myself filled with so many emotions that I can hardly figure out what I want to get out or what I want to say. Do I even want to say anything any more? Do I even feel anything matters anymore? When I created this page specifically to start a blog about my last year in Tucson, I created it with the intent of fulfilling out my AZ/Tucson Bucket list while also spreading the love I have for Tucson and its community. It was before my last few markets of the season, after I decided to get a newsletter going for my website and then before I left last week for my AZ camping trip to the Grand Canyon, Antelope Canyon, Horseshoe Bend, then solo dispersed camping in Flagstaff and Sedona. I figured I’d have this great time to finally get some nature, breathe, step back and figure out my next steps in Tucson before I leave to NYC next spring.

My nine year old nephew passed away suddenly wednesday night.

What was life like before this nightmare I find myself currently in?

Before all this, I was going through eight months of sobriety from Alcohol, trying to find spiritual guidance, dealing with financial issues, trying to adult as much as I could while also trying to find balance with family and friends. I realized I was being a hermit as well. I am not known for being a hermit. The Adela I know is social and doesn't let fear stop her. Fear of being financially stuck, fear of taking on work and then not get paid like I have experienced twice this year aleady, both by local companies in the community I really enjoyed and believed in. I noticed I was also supplementing food in place of binge drinking. I binge(d) on food, Netflix and somehow still kept doing the work towards goals knowing things would get better if only I was more focused on work and less on myself. Or maybe less on work and more on myself. I’ve done sobriety before, why is it so much harder this time around? I stopped going out. I decided to continue not dating since being back in Tucson from my Alaska summer. (This was more so that I can find balance within myself again). I found myself hustling like I do. Trying to create and get paid for it. Taking on as much as I could to pay the bills while also picking up shifts at the bar. It might seem like I have my shit together from the outside but on the inside I have no idea wtf I am doing. I’m just trying to learn as much as I can from other people that are doing what I want to do but I keep finding myself lost, stuck and then fear takes over. Tucson has been wonderful to me so I of course feel the guilt that if I leave, I leave my home, support system and friends. I’ll leave a place I am passionate about and yet if I don't leave I’ll never be able to financially support myself in the arts the way I want to. I keep thinking, “Someday, if I can just get enough regular clients, creative work and income to pay the bills, keep a roof over my head with clothes and to travel on a frugal budget to support my inspiration for the work I do then I will have made it.” This is what success would mean for me. No fancy cars, no condo or property, not even a love of my life by my side. I just want to be able to support myself and my dreams in the most minimal way without financial stress.

These were all my concerns, fears, and selfish thoughts before I found myself here.

On Monday May 21st, I and my family buried my nine year old nephew. The Wednesday before he had been playing, enjoying life until he no longer was and left this world in a way I can't help but hurt for him. I can't imagine what those last moments were like but I would hope that he knew that he was loved. Braxton was loved so much. Hearing the news while I was in Page, AZ I still couldn't grasp what had happened. I kept thinking that I would wake up. That I was still in my shitty sleep and life would be okay again. Life is not okay and it won't be. Not now anyway. On my trip back from Page, Thursday after I heard the news from his Tia who was at the hospital the night before, I kept thinking of ways I can do my part to help my family, the guilt I had for not seeing him as often as I wanted to, or even just sometimes brushed off and thought I’d just see him another time when I am not as busy. The last time I saw him was on his birthday in February. Its been killing me that it wasn't sooner. A seven-ish hour trip back home. A seven-ish hour trip of mindfuck, “If only I had a car to pick him up when I wanted. If I had stopped taking on too many things I could have seen him more. I should have been more patient with him. I should have been more present with him. I never got to take him out on a one on one outing that I wanted with him. I didn’t get to say goodbye or that I loved him since his birthday. I should have...” Everything else went out the window. I needed to be there for my sister, my mom and the rest of this family and his. I needed to be strong. To put in the work where I was needed. And thats what I did. My back from the trip ‘To Do’ list went from emailing clients to emailing a best friend to proof read a child’s obituary. I created the Prayer card, obituary, and helped type up a eulogy for my sister, his Auntie to read. I helped pick out his flowers and clothes for the funeral. These tasks are unlike any other.

The heartbreak, anxiety, sadness, loss is truly unlike any feelings I have ever felt in the 31 years of being on this earth. You expect death to happen but you don't expect it to happen to a child. Your own nephew, grandson, brother or son. God didn’t give us time to accept this. Didn’t give us time to process this. He was taken from us. Just like that.

Mi familia is a big family. I have seven siblings. Five of them have kids. Four of their kids have kids. And that’s just within the immediate family. If there is one thing that god was showing us, is that this family is strong. This family is everything to one another. This family comes through when the time comes. This is the first our hearts have been broken in such a way. My sister’s son was like a son to all five sisters. We all had our love and stories to share. We all set our differences aside and showed all the support and love. My sister lost her son, we may never know that exact pain but we do know that we love her to the moon and back. She is everything to this family. We all are everything to this family and I saw that clearly this week.

Braxton’s support system is not only through immediate family (His Dad and dad’s family is also just as loving and supportive) but also through the community. There’s a GoFundMe page created for his funeral starting at $9,000 and it raised over $11,000 and still going. I reached out to the community on FB and even found that my own friends and friends of friends in Tucson, Florida, California, etc gave what they could in support of this family. My best friends, co-workers and even the lady at Fed-Ex whom printed the obituary, cards and photos were all super supportive in ways I didn't know I or my family needed. And for this I find myself with more gratitude in life than I have ever thought I did. I am so grateful and appreciate every single text, comment, call, and hug. My love for the Tucson community and online community will always be great.

Throughout the most difficult time I have ever experienced, I didn’t drink. I wanted to be sober and present (although I felt zombie-like). At the service I mentioned to one of my sister’s, “This, right here is the moment I want a bottle of vodka. I big fucking bottle of vodka. No other time, just right now.” I had seen my nephew and said good bye. He was so cool and stylish with his cute outfit we picked out for him with the Avengers t-shirt showing through his dress shirt. I wanted him to wake. I wanted him to just be sleeping. I wanted him to call me the face painting lady again. I also wanted to drown this away with a bottle. I wanted to join others and partake in numbing the pain. But I knew that black outs weren't the only reason I become sober nine months prior. I wanted to be a better person for myself and for others. My best self for my family and friends. For my munchkins. I wanted my nieces and nephews to see their independent, hustling, Tia sober and some day go on adventures with. To be an example for them. To know and share the struggle for them so they wouldn't have too. To be a good example, a mentor, a supportive friend. The only way I can be those things is if I abstain from alcohol.

My landlord sent me a text the morning of the funeral with a photo of a blooming Queen of the Night Cacti. Just one that bloomed in the night. With the photo the text read, “The Casita had a visitor last night... your nephew came by to tell you he is ok. I also saw a palomita underneath the flower...” My favorite cacti flower. It blooms at night and only lasts through the morning. I miss you Braxton. I miss you so much and love you, always.

This blog will be as I intended it to be but it will also not be the same as I thought it to be. I am not the same I thought I’d be driving back home to Tucson this week. I do not have the same heart I once did. My family, my sister, my ex-brother in-law, and nieces, sisters of Braxton will never be the same. The world, to me, will never be the same again. I hurt and I know I will need to get back to work and life because I am sure it carries on just the same but today, right now nothing matters to me except my thoughts of missing him and wishing I had more time.

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gallusrostromegalus · 7 years

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What. There was just a finger? An actual human finger? And no one knows which human it belonged to? Just sitting in the kitchen? What even are you.

Oh, and you also kind of imply that the kitchen was carpeted? Because you know that it depends on how much they removed from the carpet, and the finger was found in the kitchen. If that's the case, what kind of devil house did your fiance live in?

1. Yes, an actual human finger. the police took it hoping to identify the owner by the prints, but no match came back.

2. The kitchen IS carpeted, but honestly with the need to posses a shopvac anyway (Landlord had a craftshop in the garage and lived in the basement), and four dogs living in the house at the time, it ended up being a nonissue? I had an auidence for cooking and if I accidentally dropped something it almost never made it to the floor.

Ok, to back up: The Monroes owned the house until 2007. They live in Alaska, and were holding onto the property for tax reasons or smth? Anyway, they sold it to the man listed in my phone as “Leather Mike”.

Fiance met Leather Mike when looking for more D&D players online, and managed to somehow have a five-week conversation full of jargon and missed innuendo, so when Leather Mike actually showed up at the D&D game in a Gimp mask and we had to explain to him that it was not that kind of Fantasy Roleplay. He apologized then we sat him down he rolled up an Orc Paladin and we all had a great time. Leather Mike turns out to be a great guy, and when he suddenly has the potential to rent a house as an on-site landlord, he offers to rent to Fiance.

Niether Leather Mike nor Fiance had actually SEEN the place before they walked in, found the back door busted open and blood in the hall and kitchen, and finger on the counter. They called the police like sensible people, then Fiance called the Monroes to haggle that Leather Mike get paid more for handling this nonsense, and ends up getting a very good deal.

Leather Mike owns a very elderly great Dane named Bosco, Shitty Roommate #1 owned a fat corgi named Ein, Shitty Roommate #2 owned a mixed bully breed named Zoe who is the second-dumbest dog I’ve ever met, and i was regularly bringing Cody, Gentleman Shepherd over to be an Old Man with Bosco. So whenever I cooked, I had 4 dogs sitting in an arc around me, waiting for something to leap off a plate at them. The floor never got dirty.

Shitty Roommates had done a great job of pretending to be responsible adults but #1 turned out to be unable to hold a job, smoked a ton of weed and was generally a huge bitch about everything, and #2 was also a jobless pothead and lil bitch, but ALSO had the charming habit of bringing a new ‘girlfriend’ home for loud 2AM sex every week and not training his admittedly dumb but also very large and aggressive dog. I felt really, really bad for Zoe. After 6 months of them not paying the rent and Zoe snapping at him and having his stuff stolen by the ‘girlfriends’ Fiance moved out and in with me.

So, even though it’s a house with a history of anonymous maimings with a carpeted kitchen and a BDSM leatherworks shop in the garage, it ALSO has a fenced yard, AC and Mike’s a great guy so we’re seriously considering moving back after graduation.

#Family lore #gore #whispersintowords

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ledamemangociana · 7 years

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Can you do a recap of Madness since there might be people who haven't subscribed or can't afford Alpha

AACCHH HELLO HI i’m sorry it took so long for me to reply to this :O i’m sure there are other people who have done this already, and probably far better than i, but here’s what i can remember (i’m busy in the office right now so i can’t watch it back to make this). i’m gonna try to make it not too spoilery, but if you want all the heavy details, lemme know so we can talk privately :D

“Madness” is set in an ominously old, rickety, dingy apartment/residential hotel-type complex, and each of the player characters have their own room with their own story and, apparently, their own descents into madness

Fenly is an artist, recently moved into the complex, and is looking to make friends. he has recently just come out of an awful relationship with a manipulative, controlling boyfriend who kept him from socializing with other people, so he has decided to throw a party so he can meet the other people in the building. he’s also looking to find inspiration for his works, which is why he moved.

Abigail has been homeless and living under an overpass for a very long time, and came to the city 2 weeks ago hoping to find a place to stay with what little cash she has on her. she likes this building because it’s “interesting.” the landlord, however, isn’t ready just yet to let her stay, because of a secret that she remains vague about, even after the landlord reveals that he knows what that secret is.

Jude is a hotel manager, and he’s not fond of it; people annoy him a lot. he suffers from anxiety, which causes him to smoke heavily. he has lived in the apartment complex for about 5 years, and has heard and experienced quite a few things, including hearing screams that sometimes sound like they’re coming from inside the building. whatever happened to him when he was younger makes him think he deserves to live barebones in a shitty apartment.

Selina is - let’s call it what it is - a hacker. she and her boyfriend, who lives somewhere else, are very skilled at what they do. they’re vigilantes of sorts, believing that what they’re doing will give back. she knows almost everything about everyone else in the building, but hates having her privacy invaded. she’s staying in this complex because it’s obscure as fuck-all; no one will find her here. that, however, may not account for everyone else involved in her operations, and it definitely won’t help the paranoia and nightmares that haunt her.

Emmett is a down-on-his-luck writer from New York. he has lived in this building for about a year, and he thinks there are “interesting voices” here. he chose to come to LA, which he later calls “a mistake.” he had come here to find and help someone he had become invested in, but apparently, it hadn’t gone very well. he’s writing again, sure, but he’s alone now. his loneliness is just the tip of the iceberg of his troubles. there’s a voice in his head, always calling him out on his “mistake,” and it could do him in.

SHOW-WISE, it looks even better than season 1, and that’s saying something. the first episode introduces all the characters thru individual mini-prologues, and they each have their own set and setting, which is already a big difference from the single set set-up of season 1 (but it looks like the main gameplay will still happen on one set). there are a lot of new elements that help tell the story too, especially because of the main gist of people going mad, such as flashing out-of-story images of the characters in straitjackets in the moments in their stories where the madness creeps in on them. it legit looks super cool and super creepy, but i would just issue warnings about flashing and overly flickering images and unexpected loud noises for those who are affected by them.

#fma245 #sagas of sundry #sagas of sundry: madness #geekandsundry #ask reply #I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUCH????!?!?!?!

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waveridden · 6 years

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FIC: if our hearts must share a grave

He’s almost too young to remember Before. People talk about Before, sometimes, always in that soft, reverent way that means they’re capitalizing it in their minds. They talk about free travel, and family homes, and being able to see the sun. (A dystopia AU. 1.7k, James & Autumn)

AUcember || inspo || title lyric

There are rules of the city, James learns. Everyone tells him, when he’s first dreaming of being surrounded by neon and running away, the rules that they think are important. They tell him to keep to corners, to stay out of the lights. Never be outside after dark, because that’s when the patrols are, and that’s when the patrols will take you away.

But there are rules beyond common sense, the ones that he learns the hard way. James learns that when you stake out a corner you defend it tooth and nail, the way that the person you stole it from used to defend it. You hope that nobody steals it from you. He learns how to keep quiet. He learns how to snake between the streets. He learns where the patrols go, and when, and where to hide.

These are the rules you live by in the city, and James keeps them in his mind, like a hymn, like a litany. Stay out of the lights. Stay out of the dark. Don’t get in fights. Fight for what is yours. It’s a city of contradictions, his. It’s a city of rules.

James has never been the best with rules.

(He remembers seeing the sun once, chancing his way outside once and only once, too young to think better. They used to say nobody could go outside, not for long, but they thought that the two of them, they were kids and they could see it, just once.)

(He remembers, more than the light or heat or devastating brightness of the sky, the way the sun looked on her hair.)

They’re in a land of tunnels now, tunnels and domes and dimness. He can’t leave to see what there is, outside, he never can.

It’s for their own good, They say - another honorary capital, another thing broader than anyone can fully grasp. The sun can harm people, They say. Everyone needs to stay inside and follow the rules, They say. The patrols are for their own good, They say. Humans don’t need the sun, They say, and they will thrive in the dark.

James has never trusted Them. But he was willing to try, until-

Well. Until.

James’s territory is a singular city block, which is more than most can say. It’s in the southwest corner of the city, where the lights that are supposed to shine down vitamin D aren’t quite as effective. Everything’s tinged blue, most days. He wonders if it’s supposed to be a sky.

It’s his block, and that doesn’t mean much, but it also means everything. It means he gets a cut when people sell drugs, whether it’s nutrients or alcohol or nicotine. It means he takes care of problems. It means that for the first time, he has something that undeniably belongs to him.

It also means this:

“The famous DeAngelis wants to see me,” says a blonde woman. James thinks she’s blonde, at least. The lights are painting her a shade of purple that he’s only seen in picture books and the clothes of people far, far richer than he’ll ever be.

“Thank you for coming,” James says, and sits down. His office is the spare room above a dingy little Indian cafe, the first place he ever ate when he got to the city. They’re standing outside the cafe now, and the lights are flickering orange, off and on and off again.

The woman tilts her head, hair waterfalling. “You don’t want money.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t want revenge.”

“I don’t.”

Her eyes narrow. “You want a person.”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Her name is Autumn.”

“And you think she’s here?”

“She was taken here when we were younger. And I want to find her.”

“Why?”

“Because,” James says, “she and I saw the sun once.”

“Shitty euphemism,” the woman says, but he can see her thinking about it. “What do I get?”

James spreads his arms wide. “This.”

“I don’t want your office.”

“I mean my block.”

She takes a step back, looking shocked. “You don’t mean that.”

“None of this is for me,” James says. “None of it ever was. I’m only here to find her.”

“She must be pretty special, DeAngelis.”

James’s throat almost closes up, but he manages to nod at her. “She is.”

The woman exhales, and James can almost see it in the purple light, flickering orange, tangible and heavy in the dark. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

“And I don’t want your block. I’d rather have you pay me in a favor.”

James winces. Favors might be the city’s currency, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. “You drive a hard bargain, Dunkelman.”

She flashes him a smile. It’s not particularly kind, but the purple and orange glare on her teeth for half a second. It looks like blood. “You have to, in this city.”

James remembers Autumn like: “I want to see it, just once,” he says, and she’s older than him and Should Know Better, all the grown-ups always say, but she sighs and says “once” and they make their way to the outside. The sun is blinding and her lips are just barely parted in awe, and they get three minutes outside, and that is more than most people will dream of.

James remembers Autumn like: “He’s my brother,” she says harshly, and he’s bigger and stronger than her but she still pushes him back, puts herself in between him and any adult who dares question them. “He’s my brother, do you understand?”

James remembers Autumn like: screaming, and screaming, and trying to reach out as they drag her away.

Kids get taken to the city all the time, for no reason at all. They get swallowed up, lost to gangs or drugs or the sheer apathy of the inside. But he knows her. He knows she hasn’t been eaten.

He runs his block. He makes friends with the guy who runs the block one street over, because allies are hard to come by. He makes friends with the pro bono lawyer on one corner and the florist on the other. He makes friends with the landlord of the apartments.

(He gets rid of the landlord and finds someone better. If this is his block, and it is, he’s not going to let bad people stay in power.)

It’s three months before Dunkelman gets back to him, and it’s nothing but an address and a time.

“Who,” he says, staring at it.

Dunkelman, clearly on her way somewhere, shakes her head at him. “Come on, you’re too smart to ask.”

James waits. He waits for two painstaking days and runs business like he’s not on the verge of the whole reason he came to the city, and then he goes. The address is a handful of blocks away. Walking distance. It’s a street corner at night.

(The patrols come at night, they always said. James has seen the patrols. They only care if you’re too close to the edge, to something they don’t want you to see. To light that isn’t powered by electricity.)

He gets there forty minutes early and cases the block. He gets coffee. He drinks the coffee. He goes back to the coffee shop, uses the bathroom, and gets another coffee, and when he leaves the coffee shop-

There are things, things that James knows are real, that are also myths.

He saw grass, the one time he was outside. It was nothing like he imagined. It was stringier, not nearly as lush, a little browner. It didn’t feel soft or ticklish. It felt like it was dying.

“I’ve never felt something dying before,” Autumn said, when he told her that, after they were inside. “I don’t know what it feels like.”

They don’t have flowers, not really. Or trees. Oh, the rich get them, but the rich get skyscrapers like there’s a sky left to bump up against instead of the top of a dome. The rich don’t have to play by the same rules as poor boy DeAngelis, stuck in nowhere, stuck inside.

He only asked Autumn once why she’s named Autumn. She doesn’t know her parents, she said, and nobody does these days. But names like Autumn aren’t as common as they used to be. Names like Rose, or Lily, or Summer, or other things that he’ll never quite know.

“I don’t know,” Autumn told him. “I’m named after something I’ll never see. It’s kind of an urban legend, you know? Trees, and everything dying, and colder weather, or something. I like it. It’s like I’m a myth. Like I’m not even real.”

-and she’s there, staring at him. The loveliest myth James has ever seen.

He drops the coffee, and it splashes up on the pavement, and he can see her face twist like she’s about to laugh at him. And he doesn’t even choose to run towards her. All he knows is that one second he’s on one side of the street and the next he’s on her side, always her side, with his arms open wide.

Autumn squeezes him when she hugs him, which is new. Her hair is longer now, but she’s still smaller than him.

“I found you,” James says, out of breath. “I found you, I found you-”

“I’m here,” Autumn says.

(She will tell him, in time, that she looked for him too. She will tell him that she’s trying to find a way outside, for longer than three minutes. She will take him with her, tell him they’re going underground so they can get out of the dark, and he’ll laugh, and she will think that he hasn’t changed at all.)

“You’re here,” James says, and holds on.

#ship pine 7 #shipping pine 7 #ragehappy #aucember17 #waveridden.fic #rpf for ts #for the first time there's someone in this who i don't think has been in any sp7 content? someone correct me if i'm wrong #i am convinced this doesn't make sense but it sure was fun to write #anyways. only five more days. that's weird

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