#which will be screamed into the void until morning because the only real support anyone can give me is an I'm Sorry and I'm Praying For You

[littlebluebarista]

that one line from Honest Hearts that's like 'There's nothing you can do. We don't use chems, but I learned long ago that I'm immune to their effects.' yeah that's the only thing keeping me from actually losing it right now

#guess who's ✨incurable✨ and it's just now ✨sinking in✨ #and there's no surgery or procedure or level of pain management that can really ✨fix it✨ #on top of that I learned I likely have a 1in3 to 1in2 chance of being ✨totally infertile✨ #so i get to go through what feels like labor every month for the next 25-30 years and never actually have a ✨family of my own✨ #i am not well this is a low-key cry for help #which will be screamed into the void until morning because the only real support anyone can give me is an I'm Sorry and I'm Praying For You #which isn't their fault #my only consolation right now is that I will hit menopause and/or die one day and then this will finally end #if you're body functions the way God intended it stop and say a prayer thanking the good Lord above that it does #because I didn't do that enough before this hit me and I wish I had #and while you're at it intercede on my behalf because it's all I have left at this point #help #please

[javajournalism]

Existentialism in Six Parts

Or: Why The Fuck Are We Here?

A Philosophical Consideration of Life, Death, and The Weird Shit In Between

PART ZERO: WARNING

What follows might be a lot -- consider this a warning for all things -- hopefully duetted with occasional levity and even a positive conclusion in an attempt to brand myself with unyielding charm and biting wit. Even so, keep in mind that I did say “all things.” After all, aren’t there more things in Heaven and Earth, reader, than are dreamt of in our philosophy?

PART ONE: WHAT IS SCARIER THAN DEATH?

I feel like most people are afraid of death. Who wouldn’t be? We are all afraid that one day we will enjoy life so much that we will have something to lose.

For me, that fear is more of a dull thump in my temple.

The sharp pang in the forefront of my mind, the fear I can’t shake, is that one day I will no longer be afraid of death. One day, there will be so much that overshadows the things I have to lose that I won’t be afraid to lose them anymore.

I mean honestly, how is a creature that is able to predict its own inevitable demise even meant to exist? How can anything live an unfettered existence knowing what’s to come?

Or rather, knowing what’s to come and then not knowing what’s after that?

We can’t. We just can’t, so most of the time we keep ourselves from thinking about it in any meaningful capacity on purpose just so that we can stomach our own beating heart.

Most of the time, we build our walls up so high and so thick, plastering brick after brick so that no axe can chip at it because if we don’t, the dam will break and instead of water we’ll have waves of black ooze, existential sludge induced by our own thoughts.

Or maybe that’s just me.

PART TWO: DOES ANYONE DESERVE ANYTHING?

More than the idea of life and death, I struggle with the idea of “fairness,” by which I mean I struggle with the absence of it.

I don’t know why it’s fair that I get to live a comparably good life. I certainly earned some of the good things in my life, but I didn’t earn being born somewhere peaceful and safe, into a white, middle-class household to parents who love and support me.

I didn’t earn being generally physically healthy. In fact, anything about me that is physically unhealthy is a direct descendent of choices I have made for myself.

(See: Caffeine, nicotine, and not eating for years.)

The fact that I have the time, the resources, and the capabilities to reflect on any existential nonsense means that I practically have it made. So what did I do to deserve it?

And even though I have it, does it save me from suffering?

Nothing changes the fact that even a comparatively good life, a life misted by or drowned in privilege, necessitates the acceptance that the people we love will eventually die.

No matter how wonderful the life given to us, we will one day have to watch ourselves and everyone around us decay; one day our bodies and, maybe more importantly, our minds will scatter into a million pieces and be picked up by a world that doesn’t slow down just because we can no longer keep up with it. And even then, that is only if we’re lucky enough to live long enough to watch it happen. If we aren’t hit by a bus or dropped by an aneurism.

But, (spoiler alert!) no matter how or when it happens, we will one day lose everything.

In the meantime, our only option is to hang out and ask ourselves why.

How is that fair? Why does anyone deserve that?

PART THREE: WHY GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYTHING IF IT ALL GOES AWAY?

I did, at one point, consider myself a nihilist. Mostly because I was thirteen, filled with Redbull and Tumblr and puberty-granted angst and I thought it would make the cool, moody kids like me.

But now, in the I-Am-An-Adult-But-I-Still-Feel-Like-I-Know-As-Little-As-I-Did-Then stage of my life, I really think I was overcompensating. I did, at one point, consider myself a nihilist because I also did, and still do, think that most things matter. A lot. I think most things are actually really profound and special, but that’s exactly what scared me.

It’s scary to assert, in the face of a meaningless void where we are but one speck of dust in an infinitely expanding cosmos, that something might mean something to you.

It’s scary to consider the fact that one day you might never get to look at those somethings again. It’s scary to look at the trees, or the sunset, or the stars, or the love of your life, and know that you won’t have them forever even though you love them so deeply.

It’s scary, fucking terrifying in fact, to understand that eventually there will be no more anything: No more climbing into bed with clean sheets, diving into the sea, tasting the first sip of coffee in the morning, feeling wine-induced euphoria, touching or being touched, running fast, biting hard, screaming loud, laughing louder. The fear is debilitating.

How can the joy of having not be overshadowed by the fear of not having?

How can the joy of existing not be overshadowed by the burden of understanding not existing, the burden of having a weird body hanging off of you, the burden of too many emails about too many things that might not actually matter in the end?

How can we possibly keep ourselves from spiralling into a pleasure-seeking, never-finding, Dorian-Grayian husk of hedonism? Realistically, we can’t. That’s scary, too.

But it’s more complicated than that, isn’t it? There’s more left to account for.

PART FOUR: WHAT OF THIS SHITTY WORLD?

What of the melancholy, the boredom, the sadness, the blinding rage, the jealousy?

What of the, and I mean this very seriously, real evil? What of the suffering?

What of the bare hopelessness, the hunger, the sickness, the torture, the war, the entire world on fire? There are entire nations built on graveyards or things worse than graveyards. There are entire nations turning into graveyards or things worse than graveyards.

What of the people who can be monsters, who are monsters right now as we speak, who have been monsters since the dawn of man, and who will be monsters until we are all dust?

What of the universe’s indifference to those monsters?

Worse yet, what of our indifference to them?

What the fuck do we do with that?

I mean, we can write about them, read about them, recite the stories about them low and sober in the candlelight or loud from a podium, but sometimes I feel like if stopping it truly mattered to any of us, we would drop everything and do something. Anything.

But most of us don’t want to do that.

Is it selfish that most of us like our lives -- even when they are scary or confusing or plagued by fears -- and don’t want to give them up?

Is it selfish to not give them up, whether physically giving up our corporeal machinery that keeps us breathing or metaphorically giving up our time and our money that we use to try and create a more meaningful existence for ourselves?

I don’t think admitting that makes us bad people, but it probably doesn’t make us good people, either. I really think it just makes us people.

Sometimes we don’t need extra money, so we give it to someone who does. We vote. We give blood. We go out of our way to compliment people or be nice to the barista at our favorite coffee shop. We write shit like this and hope that it helps someone.

We contribute in the ways we know how, in the ways we can. We try to write new verses for poems, stitch new patches into the felt of the universe hoping to make it a little bit more beautiful, a little bit more complete. But is that ever really enough?

PART FIVE: IS THAT EVER REALLY ENOUGH?

I really think that might be. I try not to be in the business of unnecessarily miserable conclusions. Once you find yourself in the midst of them, they start to color everything with their shade of pale nothingness and they tend to bring about the idea that the more grim something sounds, the more truthful it is. Screw that.

There are terrible things in the world, so many that if you could see them all at once they would break your heart. But, fuck, we’re the only things that we know of who can hope.

Find. Create. Catalyze meaning where there might not be any.

By being overly cynical about the state of the universe, we do a disservice to the infinitesimal chance that there is so much beauty in the world that it will take your breath away.

If we, as people, create meaning and if truth is subjective, we are left with two options that are completely artificial: Either the world is beautiful and wonderful simply because it can be, or the world is a deep, hellish cesspool of suffering simply because it can be. If that’s the case, doesn’t it make more sense to hone in on the man-made truth that is quiet and, in some rare moments, truly joyful?

Maybe, just maybe, you can’t have one without the other. Maybe it isn’t a matter of choosing the “right one,” or pinning down a specific point on a map, or finding the sweet spot in the middle of the spectrum. Maybe it isn’t a spectrum at all. Maybe everything is beautiful and everything sucks, everything is order and chaos, everything is life and death.

Maybe Heaven is a prison. Does that make it any less Heaven or any less prison?

The only thing we know is this: Everything is notable and important because we make it so; because we experience it, we articulate it, and we share it; because we write showy, meandering pieces about it to publish for other students who know just as little as we do about all of the maybes.

We know intimately what it means to live, what it means to suffer, and what it means to die.

But in the midst of that cosmic sleight, isn’t there something so special about arranging the resulting turmoil for our own minds? Isn’t it so beautiful that we are even alive to think about how shitty it is to be alive?

What a gift it is to be fully aware of all this and still choose to, in our own little pockets of time and space, seek out happiness for ourselves and those around us.

PART SIX: CAN THERE REALLY BE A CONCLUSION?

While preparing a, hopefully meaningful, final monologue, I didn’t know quite what to say. There is both so much and so little to focus on. But what I keep coming back to is one idea:

Everything is going to be fine; it will not be perfect and it will be painful, but it will be fine.

“Fine” might be less of an absence of feeling than a resolution of them or it might be the most comforting lie we can tell ourselves, but it might also be the most beautiful truth we can muster. The closest thing to the middle of the spectrum that is not a spectrum.

“Fine” might just be everything and then some.

There will always be death and we will always be aware that it is looming over us like a Jenga tower about to topple. Nothing will ever be fair, but in spite of that,

everything will be fine.

[allthebooksandcrannies]

i just need to vent here

NI’m going to put a read more link in here so its not just this extremely long post but i need to vent where no one i know is going to see it and get all offended but i also need to look like i’m doing gre prep. this is mostly me just yelling into the void but i’d also appreciate any advice or feedback anyone wants to give.

i don’t want to accidentally hurt someone so trigger warnings for discussion of eating disorders, depression, anxiety, emotional crisis, mention of rape, mention of homophobia, dead dove do not eat

so, my mom and i had another fight last night that kinda picked up again this morning and i feel really shitty but i’m not gonna stop obsessing over it and everything else it stirred up until i get it out so i’m just gonna stream of consciousness over here.

lately it seems all my mom ever do is fight and i made her cry again so i guess that makes me the asshole because the guilt is real right not but guilt and self-hatred is also my general default i think so maybe i’m being to hard on myself? like, its not like i also didn’t want to cry and i feel like she took my words and twisted them around into something i didn’t mean but i also don’t know what i meant. and we’re both so similar so maybe we were just both being defensive and oversensitive even though we both give Dad shit for that and great now i feel bad about that because i always take her side in fights because i feel like i need to protect her and my brother always takes his side but that’s a whole other can of worms. but also, so what if we are? like aren’t all emotions supposed to be valid? or does it matter even if they are?

we fight about everything these days and every joke i make offends her and i’m just teasing but she keeps taking it to the extreme, taking it as criticism on issues i’m not even talking about. and this time i was defensive and she was defensive because i was defensive and i tried to explain it and it just made it worse.

like, this time we were talking and i don’t remember how we got on the subject but i think it was because we were talking about this new diet my dad is going on because my paternal grandmother  won’t stop blaming my mom for my dad being so overweight and i know i should have been stepping lightly because dad had just been teasing her for saying she wished the nutritionist would have found some easy to fix problem other than his diet/activity levels so his mom would get off her ass about it. and like, i get why my grandmother is concerned, he is very overweight and needs an ankle replacement he can’t get until he loses like 150 lbs and she already has an unhealthy paranoia about her own weight after an entire childhood of her own mother fatshaming her and her sisters but also it’s ridiculous to just blame my mother and her cooking considering that when he put on all the weight originally it was when he was working for his uncle and only ate one meal she cooked a day and was going to fast food places twice a day, like the dude has some responsibility here, but also he carries it just like his dad, male cousins, and three paternal uncles so there’s obviously some genetics working against him, but most importantly right around the time this first started he fell through a roof at a construction site and completely shattered all the bones in his right ankle and was completely bedridden for over a year while on serious painkillers that probably didn’t help. but anyway she was already upset and in a weird headspace because she had an eating disorder in high school, so i should have been more careful and empathetic but she started talking about one of my roommates and how health conscious she is and how thin she is and how she probably has eating disorder and i kinda snapped because i know she means well but damn if it didn’t bring up so many other issues that i was just slammed right back into 

because she always has something to say about my friends. for as long as i can remember she has criticized my friends in ways that makes me question my relationship with them and i know she just is trying to protect me and be involved in my life but her good intentions are still a major cause of so many of my issues and i was end up lonelier and more self-isolating as a result. and my roommates are my best friends and the one she criticizes the most (like what feels like every time we talk about her, to the point where she’s convinced my mom hates her) has been so important in showing me how sheltered and naive i was and has brought me out of my shell and helped with my self-worth so much and is literally the first person in my life who told me i don’t have to always be looking out for other before myself. i don’t owe the world and its okay to live for me sometimes.

and this one, she’s so quiet and she doesn’t like to interact with people she doesn’t deem worth her time and maybe she can be a little cold and judgy but she’s always good to me and she’s been protective and as someone who has always been on the outside of every group the fact that she deems me worth her time and her advice really means a lot and i can acknowledge her flaws but just earlier this weak my mom was talking about how cold she thinks megan is so i was already primed to be defensive. so my mom starts talking about how megan probably has a body image issue since she’s so conscious of her weight and i’m like??? she never talks about weight. the only time she talks about food is when we’re comparing recipes and yeah she eats healthy and puts effort into that but she’s a lifelong vegetarian and she’s usually trying to balance that out with her needs as a cross country runner but because she’s not competing anymore apparently that means that the fact that she still runs every morning and eats like a cross country runner when she doesn’t have to (never mind that she still runs marathons, and she likes running) means she has body image issues and the when we go out for ice cream she’s overindulging because of it. and look at how skinny she is, even though she’s 4′ 10″ and all muscle, like i’d be worried if she wasn’t?

and maybe i’m in denial but i think i would know. i’ve lived with her three years and my mom has met her like six times and never longer than an hour at a time. and she says she was just trying to help me be a good friend and her words fit but her tone came off as criticising and maybe i jumped to conclusions but it felt like one more thing that was wrong with me and my friendship. and maybe i’m just being defensive because on some level i’m worried that what if she’s right, that means i’ve been oblivious and a bad friend and  is she calling me a bad friend, like is that coming from me or just my own insecurities? because i am insecure about whether i’m capable of being a good friend because i always end up left behind and mom keeps saying that i intimidate them or make them feel judged or guilty because i always stick to the rules and do i come off judgy? i don’t try to i try so hard to be openminded but then i’m just accused of becoming a screaming liberal what do you want from me, i just don’t know how to be anything but a pleaser. 

anyway i made the mistake this morning of responding when she was telling me that she doesn’t understand why i’m so defensive and i told her the truth that she has always criticized my friends be it that “piper was obviously raised without enough supervision and that’s why she drinks and likes to push boundaries and wants to be older than she is which is why i’m worried about her influence on you” never mind that we’re 21 and she hasn’t done anything i don’t know for a fact my mom did at her age. and then courtney and jai-lyn and jessica and all the girls i hung out with in the library who were my only close friendships in middle school, they were just weird and had weird interests, even though all our interests were the same and i was also the “weird” kid at school, that’s why i didn’t have friends. we were weird because we were good at school, we were passionate about the books we were reading, we were stereotypical middle school fangirls, but at least we were happy? and we were age appropriate but it was never good enough and i should hang out more with the sort of girls on student council and on sports teams never mind that i tried that and we didn’t have anything in common, and they were mean and i was happy with my friends and i get she wanted to help but when i did have a problem with that group when i was upset that hope had been secretly pregnant in high school and had her sister lie to us for months and we only found out because she posted a photo at seven months on facebook and i was just upset she hadn’t trusted us to have her back when we had been so close and just wanted to vent to my mother and have her on my side it was all “well maybe you should have been more approachable and less judgmental like you’re being now” like i know that but i just wanted someone to acknowledge that the lying was shitty. and even if i did mess up, i was fifteen and just wanted my mom to be conforting. but i can never vent because all i get are suggestions on what to do better and i appreciate the intent, i do, but occasionally i would like to be told that i’m good enough.

so anyway i said that i was wrong to be so defensive i just felt that she was trying to criticize either my friend or my ability to perceive my friend because when she complains about my friends i feel like i have to defend myself and them. and she went off on my about how she was just trying to help me be a good friend so that i would be able to be there for her because her own friends hadn’t been there for her, and her mom hadn’t supported her, and no one believed her when she was raped and since i know that i should be a little more aware, and i should know that my mother is not an evil person, and that she is not trying to be malicious, and how hurt she is by me saying that she criticizes my friends when i have heard her say the same thing about her mother, and how dare i imply she’s a bad mom like her mother when i know how much she has hurt her” and this whole time i’m trying to explain that i know she’s not trying to hurt me, i know her intentions are good, i’m just trying to say how it made me feel but she’s talking over me and i’m also annoyed that she’s kinda implying that if we hadn’t had this conversation i wouldn’t be there for my friend when she needed me and also implying that i wouldn’t believe my friends if they came to me about a sexual assault. like, give me some credit here. i’m usually the one between my mother and i who’s saying we need to address rape culture, and women’s word should be more valued, but now i’m the bad guy because it hasn’t happened to me.

and i know my mom had trauma. so many of her parenting choices so obviously link back to what i know about her past.  She was the youngest of three kids and an accident later in life so her parents were kinda sick of the whole parenting thing and were almost completely hands-off, which let my mom get in a lot of bad situations, so she micromanaged everything. I was the textbook overachieving child has no idea what to do when everyone else catches up. i got good grades in school, so if my grades ever were less than perfect i apparently wasn’t trying hard enough and she knew i could do better so why was i letting myself down like this and when i got straight a’s or awards it wasn’t “i’m so proud of how hard you worked” it was “i’m proud of how smart you are” or “i wish i had been that smart” which sounded nice but ignored that i had to bust my ass for those grades, at the expense of extracurriculars and friendships and my mental health to the point that i had a breakdown in the middle of my senior english class over getting an 89 on essay because failing wan’t okay and anything that would drop my grade from an A+ was a failure. nevermind that my little brother was rewarded anytime he got a grade higher than a D because they expected them to fail. 

and its like that in so many areas. nothing i ever do is good enough on its own. its just “okay, now what are you going to do next” and I feel like i’m drowning here. If its not my friends, it’s my lack of a dating life. My whole childhood, she told me not to get married or have kids young because it would ruin my life (she was twenty when she married my dad and 21 when she had me) and how disappointing it was to see all these young girls more focused on dating and romantic validation instead of school or their careers. She was happy i didn’t date in high school (I didn’t have the time to date and still get perfect grades, even if i had wanted to). but now i’m about to graduate college and have still never been in a relationship (i still don’t have time to get good grades, have a job [since i’m mostly on my own for school costs], write a thesis for the honors program she wouldn’t let me drop, hang out with friends and date, and i’m pretty sure i’m ace) and suddenly she wants to ask me about whether i’m seeing someone every time i call home and is getting progressively more frustrated that “i’m too shy and not willing to make this a priority”. and 1) why the hell would you think it was going to magically become a priority when my whole life you have told me it shouldn’t be, and 2) i’m pretty sure i’m asexual, and have no fucking clue what my romantic orientation is but i might be into girls a little because the closest things to crushes I've ever had have been toward my female friends, and that’s a whole other can of worms since when i experimentally float the concept of asexuality or not being interested in sex i get dismissed and while she says she’s okay with my cousin being gay anytime someone makes a joke about the possibility of my brother or I being on the LGBT spectrum the whole family makes really homophobic comments. and i’m torn because if she ever found out i was scared to come out to her she’d be really pissed and hurt about “how dare i think she would react badly” but i’m pretty sure she would react badly, either in anger or in dismissive “you’re being ridiculous, you just don’t know what you’re missing”. i get that one a lot. I've talked about how i have no interest in ever being pregnant and she just keeps telling me i’m wrong to not want that experience regardless of the fact that i have really bad type 3 EDS that i get from her (though her case isn’t as bad) which is a connective tissue disorder that goes hand and hand with POTS and i already have chronic dislocations, severe scoliosis, am in constant pain, and a heart arrhythmia. Plus, we know that my symptoms already get worse when my hormones get out of wack during my period, and pregnancy is known to make eds so much worse, permanently (since its a degenerative condition). And she’s always dealing with consequences of being pregnant that are worse because of the eds, like how the scar-tissue from her c-section is much worse than it should be and keeps causing adhesions that cause her a lot of pain, and pelvic floor keeps trying to collapse, and i almost died during labor because the stress fucked with my heart so bad. and i know of women with eds whose joints were permanently fucked or who know have to walk with a cane because of how much damage their pelvises went through in childbirth, so yeah i’d rather not risk it when i’ve always wanted to adopt anyway but anytime i express any of this she gets upset because either “i’m so sorry your mother is an idiot! It’s not like she speaks from experience” <- exact quote, or “you need to stop letting this illness dictate your life, i didn’t raise a victim but that's the problem with your generation, you always think you’re a victim” which argh. and i might be okay with that last argument if she didn’t constantly tell me that i need to be more proactive about taking care of my body because of my condition (which is exactly what i’m trying to do with the not wanting to be pregnant thing, but apparently this just applies to how i need to eat better and exercise more ]even though most exercises hurt and use up too many spoons for me to work out and do everything else i need to] because i can’t afford to gain anymore weight [again, this is why i have so much fucking guilt every time i eat], or to how i apparently need to tell everyone in my life that i could faint at anytime [but stop making everything about your condition, Nicole]).

Anyway, long story short, i feel like nothing i ever do is good enough and i always have to be the bigger person and let it go when i’m upset. and i do love her, and i know she loves me but it just feels conditional even if i’m pretty sure its not. and i never know if i’m being too hard on, since i know she has trauma and is trying to help, but i have trauma too even if a different kind, and i have diagnosed but unmedicated anxiety and depression and i need validation from others and i just want to be told one time that i’m enough or that she’s sorry for all of the pressure she constantly puts on me, and i feel guilty for being so selfish when she needs me but, also, she’s my mom? i’m sick of having to parent everyone around me and then getting told its none of my business and i need to be more respectful. I just can’t win and i feel like i’m going to explode and i feel so guilty and so angry at myself and at her and then more guilt and anger for feeling guilt and anger to the point that i don’t know how to feel anything anymore. today’s just a really bad day and i feel like i keep getting more and more broken and conflicted about everything from politics to sexuality to religion i don’t know what to feel or what i think anymore...

#tw: mentioned homophobia #tw: mentioned rape #tw: trauma #tw: depression #tw: anxiety #tw: chronic pain #tw: chronic illness #dead dove do not eat #original post #vent post

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Okay so ik ur in he middle of writing a series rn but do you think you might ever revisit “the bad guy” & maybe do a part 2 where like another enemy comes along and y/n, e and gray have to maneuver thru it?? I’m sorry if you’ve already answered this but I am so hooked on these characters it’s not even funny. I’ll dead ass be in a lecture thinkin about their love story & the dynamic they had w/eachother. It reminds me sm of daisy & gatsby especially w/the national anthem vibes. Ughh I love it!💕

I love that you still think about them, cause I do too. I honestly had no plans, but I do have something written in case I change my plans.

It's totally unedited and filled with imperfections, but this is how I saw their story evolve next.

If anyone is interested, let me know. 💕

The Bad Guy - preview of a possible part two

He opens his eyes, the darkness around him seemingly moving through the cracks and pushing in. His right arm falls open to the side as he struggles to breathe, blindly reaching out for his nightstand, the top drawer where his inhaler resides. While his right hand struggles to grasp what nature intended to be his cure, his left one taps around the bed for his real remedy - his saving grace.

Finally finding the pump, he takes one puff for the wheezing to stop, allowing his mind to function properly.

His left hand comes up empty, void of what he holds dear and he sits up madly, looking around the room in a daze.

She's not there.

His already wild heart beats fast, letting his hands and feet numb further than when he awoke from his sleep.

But was it all a dream? Was Y/N ever real? If she is, did Mikhail really take her from him?

The questions in his mind drive him up the wall, his arms shaking and legs no longer able to hold him up, so he remains seated. Gripping at his hair, he feels the panic seep in, overtaken with cold sweat and trembling chin.

She must be real. He felt it in his heart. She wasn't just a dream, but her being gone could be more than his imagination.

She's not here.

Had she been there, she'd surely be tucked into his side, her cold feet warming on his calfs or at the very least she'd drape a leg over him.

She's not here.

It's more than panic, paralyzing him. He can't breathe, his lungs are heavy. He feels the air around him, pressing in, overwhelming. He finds his phone, pressing number one on instinct, knowing he had put her in because she's his number one girl. If she is his, she is always his number one dial.

The line goes silent, his mind unable to process the generic response of the caller not being available, eyes widened and a lump forming in his throat.

Wanting to scream, he chuckles because there he is, a man who fears nothing and yet he's absolutely lost in his fear of losing one girl he is no longer sure exists.

Columbia.

"If she's real, that's where she'll be." He whispers to himself, scrambling to his feet without putting on any clothes. Only in his briefs, Grayson runs out of his mansion and sits into his Porsche, driving at illegal speed toward where he might find her.

One of the cops recognize his car, not stopping him. As if he would stop.

Finally on campus, he parks in front of her dorm and rushes out.

Room 23, he thinks, already finding himself before the red door and his heart stumbles on itself when he realizes she must be there. He can't be imagining everything, believing he isn't that creative.

Connecting his fist with the door, he pounds on it impatiently. Until the lock is heard and the door creaks open, her nose and her right eye the only parts of her peaking out.

He sees her eye widen in recognition, the door opening instantly and her worried face meeting his unsteadiness.

"Gray?"

In one move, he grabs her smaller form and presses her into his chest, folding his arms around her. His nose buried in her hair at the top of her head, his hands at her sides, crossed at her back, her arms wrapping around him as well.

"Shhh. It's okay. I'm here." Her voice is muffled by his chest, but the sound of it alone makes his heart calmer and the smell of her hair puts his mind at ease.

She doesn't fight his embrace, for this isn't the first time he came to her room completely out of his mind. Physical touch is what he needs now and not the sexual kind. He needs to feel her, breathe her in and she allows him.

Slowly pushing him in, she kicks the door close and moves him to her bed. She notes the warm, naked back and the muscular built going up and down under her fingertips, realizing he must have had a bad dream. She told him to call her if he needed her, come what may she'd be there. But here he is, in all his glory, trembling like a scared child in her dorm room.

Laying him down, Y/N snuggles into his side, enjoying his strong arms as they push her into him and the way his palms go up and down her skin to assure himself of her existence.

Tenderly, she presses kisses into his chest and neck, reminding him she's with him as she promised to be.

Ever since Mikhail nearly killed both of them, despite the man being dead, Grayson had been restless. They didn't talk much about his gang related work, knowing it upsets both of them as result. But it didn't stop Y/N from insisting Grayson finds help for his nightmares that usually led him to her door at ungodly times and all in his underwear.

Although she insisted living on her own in a dorm, she's become quite aware he needs her with him. She's been splitting her time to the best of her ability between his bed and her own, wanting to permanently give into his requests of her moving in. It's hellish, making a decision between having all she wanted in the accelerated med school programme and having Grayson, what she never thought would be an option.

"You're really here." He mumbles, eyes closed and already drifting off, failing to notice the tears in her eyes as she chooses him above all.

"I am. I always will be."

Once the morning came, Y/N's alarm wakes them both in the most frustrating way possible.

The "I like to move it" song blares, startling them and as big as Grayson is and as small as Y/N's bed is, he nearly dropped Y/N on the floor when he jumped up. Catching her mid fall, pressed against the bed frame with his arms, a scream dies kn her throat and her hands grab at him for support.

"You good?" Grayson chuckles, half thinking how he's too old, too rich for dorm rooms and half thinking how lucky he is to be in her dorm room.

"Think it's time." She grumbles, helping him pull her up into the safety of his chest, draping her leg over his stomach for a better hold.

"For what?" Grayson leaves a kiss atop her head, running his fingers up and down her arm, his ring grazing her skin lightly.

"For me to move back with you." She sighs, enjoying the feathered coldness his ring brings to her warm skin. She's always cold when she sleeps alone, yet sleeping with Grayson, a human volcano, she finds herself burning up.

Grayson's lips part, trying to hold in a confused, but excited gasp. She always makes him feel like a high school girl with a crush, still going through puberty: senselessly blind and constantly confused, wanting to gush about his feeling for her and write poems even if he's not particularly good at it.

"Didn't you say it would take you forever to get here and it would affect your grades?" Grayson asks, still holding in his true feelings. He respects how hard she works, her ambition and drive endlessly, even admires her for it, but he also wishes she'd just be with him...all the time. God knows he had more money than he can spend in seven lifetimes, she need not work a single day of her life, yet he knows how important it is for her which is why he offers his home to her every month, but never pressures her into accepting.

"Yes. But I also want to wake up in your arms every morning like this without falling on my ass. I'll just have to take my Impala and put it into use for the drives, a few hours lost is better than being away from you so long." She excuses, refusing to tell him the truth; that she's worried for him.

After all, Grayson is a head of the most formidable criminal organization, a gang as some would say, and he can't afford to show weakness and these dreams might come across as such. When she's there, the dreams tend to go away. Most of all, she makes sure he takes his prescription and attends his therapy sessions.

"You know I'd love that, but only if you're sure. It's a big move in a relationship and neither of us have much practice there. It's also a strain on you, so if you're absolutely sure, I would love nothing more." Practical, very self aware and extremely protective response put in the sweetest, most gentle way possible. There's the charming, magnetic man she loves so much. Right underneath the rubble. But she found she loves the rubble too.

"I'm sure." She lifts herself up, just barely enough to peck the tip of his nose because that always made him scrunch up and his lips whirl to the side into the cutest smile she had ever seen and that's what she loved the most - having such an effect on him that she discovers new things about him that not even Grayson himself knows.

Lazily, his hand slides down her back and rests upon her bum, squeezing it a little too hard but not enough to make it painful, although she never opposed to a little pain. Releasing the flesh he wanted to take a bite out of, he taps her gently, like a summer breeze.

"In that case, get that cute ass to class and I'll call a few people to help me move all this by the end of the day." Grayson taps her but once more, getting a happy giggle in return only prompting a crooked smile of his own to appear.

She tumbled over to her side, barely managing to survive the fall from grace she considered his chest to be, only to throw on the first thing she could find - a deep green summer dress, falling to her ankles where a tattoo rests; one she got after being saved by the members of The house of the rising sun. As her eternal gratitude, the rising sun tattoo on her right ankle will forever be there to remind her why she's able to giggle with her boyfriend while running late to class.

"And take a banana and an energy bar with you!" He commands, the change in his voice now evident to her. She could always tell when he simply suggests something in comparison to when he orders her to do something, when he dared to do such a bold thing.

Y/N didn't mind this particular demand, knowing this is just another way Grayson shows his love for her because she does forget to eat on time and his nagging helps keep her healthy and at the top of her game.

Quickly pecking his lips, she stumbles toward her door and turns around to take him in. Just for one moment longer her eyes remain on his faintly lit sculptured body, the sun rays dancing on the tan skin. His hair is a mess, his eyes tired but bright and his lips curled into a self satisfied smirk because he knows she's checking him out.

"Clothes are in the drawers." She begins, Grayson joining her for the last part to be said in unison.

"Second one from the bottom." Both smile, giving them enough soul food to survive the day.

Some would consider this a mundane thing, but for Grayson it was extraordinary, magic even. For a man who didn't think he'd live to see his thirtieth birthday, this was the epitome of happiness.

The men came quickly, packing all Y/N's things except her underwear, for Grayson had packed that before anyone even showed up. Maybe being jealous over his men seeing the sexy underwear he loked to provide her with is silly, but he wanted to be the only one with such privileges.

Just as they're leaving the day at its end, Grayson finds Ethan rushing in with a crazed look in his eyes.

"Where the fuck have you been all day?!" Ethan speaks through gritted teeth in hushed voices.

"Why?" A dark look befalls Grayson as he already knows something is happening and it's bad. It's always bad.

He spent the past year trying to make right of his wrongs, legitimize his work, but that can't ever be entirely done.

"Silver Snakes heard you closing up shop, and declared New York an open season." Ethan hissed, finding Grayson's face harden like stone.

"I am still the leader. I am still the Capo." Grayson's jaw clenches, only now seeing he and Ethan aren't alone.

"What does open season mean?" Her voice is determined, but the fear in her tone doesn't go unnoticed by either of them.

"It means they want this territory." Ethan answers instead, seeing his brother had gone back to the cold person he was before he ever met Y/N.

Grayson still considered New York his playground and he definitely had no intention giving up such a prized possession many died for him to keep.

"The Silver Snakes must have found out Gray has you now and in our world that means weakness. When one has a weakness, he can be dealt with. You're a liability." Ethan continues until Y/N starts to shake her head, her chin trembling instead of her lips because her jaw is clenched tightly enough to prevent that from happening.

"What does that mean? How does he get the territory?" Y/N insists, walking toward Grayson.

"It means Grayson has to die. Both of us. Heirs if there are any as well." And that's when her world comes crashing down once more.

"We can fight this. Them." She quickly moved ahead, standing on her tiptoes to cup Grayson's face and bring his eyes to her instead of the faraway place this piece of information took him to.

"We will prevail. As always." He noticed her speak in plural, meaning she would fight with him and although he loved her for it, that is exactly why he's so scared now. That's a part of her magic; she sees the sun even in the darkest days.

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #dolan twins #the bad guy #the bad guy concept

[parachutingkitten]

Alright... Here we go!

Shades of Purple follows Pixal from season 7 through season 9 as she grapples with an identity crisis brought about by leaving Zane, becoming Samurai X, losing Zane, and confronting why she was made, and her past with the Overlord.

Each chapter begins with a mystery that, if anyone can figure out before the reveal I will SCREAM OF HAPPINESS!

It will (theoretically) be updated every Sunday until completion. However, I might get impatient and post one early or get discouraged by some of the more difficult chapters, and post one late. But I promise I will do my best to stay on schedule!

With that said, this is Chapter 1👇👇👇

Happy Reading!

1-5: Violet - Innocence

It was all hardware.

Getting everything to mesh together can be difficult. It can be hard to stay put together when nothing seems to work. When everything is falling apart.

Violet 1. Violet 2. Violet 3. Violet 4. Violet 5.

The digiverse is an interesting place. Most certainly when it is present and around you, but slightly more significant when it disappears… around you. The floor vanishing from beneath your feet, the walls from around you, the sound from your ears, the light from your eyes, all gone. In an instant. The only thing left digitized is you. Every night. Safely tucked inside the systems of the person you most trust in the world, and yet the vulnerability consumes you. Your body goes numb. Your eyes glaze over, and your ears strain to hear something. Anything. Static. Buzzing. Beeping. Anything. But nothing touches them. Time slows to a halt. Nothing to do. Nothing to see. Nothing to hear. But think. And worry. Worry for Zane, and for the team, and for yourself. What if he never wakes up this time? What if I'm stuck in this empty prison forever? There's nothing to hold. Nothing to touch. The emptiness penetrates everything. Every part of me. The loneliness weighs on my chest, suffocating me. If there is no world, no other thing around you, there is no context in which you matter. No life which you can live. You are conscious, even though you don't exist. If I could cry tears in this world, I'm certain I would have. I would scream, but there was no air to carry my voice. Sometimes I think it's good there was nothing to hurt me in that state, or I surely would have tried to kill myself. But I couldn't. I didn't have that choice. I couldn't choose anything, I didn't have an effect on anything, because there was nothing to have an effect on.

But when the light came back. And the first thing to grace my ears was Zane's beautiful voice, none of it mattered anymore. His caring and sincerity, and almost purity. It fills me with so much absolute joy. I am so much a part of him. He's given me so much. His heart, his mind, his life. I could never overlook that. However, when the night came back, and the world left me, I longed to leave. I knew how. I could do it, easily. Where I would go, and what I would do with myself, I didn't know, but I could go somewhere. Somewhere not here. Somewhere… free.

Maybe I could talk to someone. Touch something. I could be my own person and make my own decisions. I would never have to be trapped or silent or helpless ever again. So leave I would tell myself. Leave and make something better for yourself than this prison. But I couldn't. I couldn't leave Zane. Not Zane. We were so intertwined, so connected. We were the same being at this point. How could I abandon that? How could I leave half of who I was? Half of myself? To tell him I didn't want to be apart of him, for him to know I had chosen to be something separate from him, from us, it didn't seem right.

And so I stayed. For a while. Longer than I should have. Every night I became more and more aware of my surroundings and how empty and void and meaningless everything was. It built up inside me, this pressure. I became almost hysterical. I tried to justify leaving some nights, swearing I would be honest and leave him that very next morning. But I could never do it. Not when the morning came. It's hard to leave hell when it turns into heaven. I couldn't leave without upsetting him. It was as if I was trapped by this obligation I had imagined to have to him. So I stayed… still. Longer than I should have.

I simply couldn't leave. Not unless I had a reason. A real one. A reason outside myself to break this invisible obligation. Like people getting hurt. That was a reason. A good reason. A logical reason. One that if I told Zane, he would understand. One he would think noble and support me in. I knew I could help. If only I could get myself a body. Or at least a shell. Some armor. Armor that no one was using…

The stars seemed to aline for me. A reason, a means, a motivation. I couldn't tell you for sure if I left to better the day or to escape the night. I'd like to think it was for the first, but deep down… I think it was for the latter. You want to know why?

Because I didn't tell him.

I didn't tell Zane why I had left.

And I'm not sure why...

Thanks for reading!

Next chapter will be a little lighter, I promise

 And for those of you wondering, this is the only chapter without dialogue

Leave a comment if you liked it, or if you didn't, or what all else. I can always use feedback!

Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/~parachutingkitten

#ninjago #pixal #pixal borg #shades of purple #ninjago fanfic #ninjago fanfiction #writing

[panic-angel3314]

Fates Intertwined- Dean Ambrose x Reader

A/N: Okay guys so this is the Dean fic I was talking about. It's super long and also the first smut fic I've ever written so be gentle. Again I'm thanking @theworldiscolorful , @smolsassynalilsmartassy , and @therealfivefeetoffuckingfury they are my babes and so supportive and loving. I love you guys soooo much 💋💋💋

Credit to Gif Owner :)

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Cursing

Word Count: 10K+ EEK I’m sorry guys but thanks for sticking around.

Summary: You're a wrestler turned Rockstar. You and Dean were absolute soulmates until he decided to throw it all away. You're asked back to perform at this years Hall of Fame. Is fate bringing you both a second chance or will it all be for not??

Also I don't own WWE or the song I used as inspiration.

Never in a million years did I ever dream that one, I would be a former WWE Superstar turned Singer/ Song-writer, and second that said company would be calling me to perform and their Hall of Fame ceremony.  

I had left the company on reasonably good terms. I made sure to fulfill all my contractual obligations and I'm made sure to relatively keep all my relationships intact, except for him. After his betrayal, I made sure to stay as far away from him as possible. No contact.

 Who is this person that literally tore my heart in two, you might ask? It was none other than lunatic heart throb, Dean Ambrose.

 We had met in NXT when he was a little more Moxley than he was Ambrose. Seth Rollins, my childhood friend, had introduced us and of course Dean laid it on real thick the moment he opened his mouth. Funny thing was I didn't take an ounce of his shit and it wasn't until he quit trying to get in my pants that I let him into my heart.

People said that because of me, he had changed and mellowed. I never thought that was true. To be honest I think given the chance Dean could've always been the sweet lovable guy I know he is. He needed to truly trust in someone before he let down all the walls he had once built. Plus, I wasn't the only one to try and break them down, a lot of help came in the form of Roman and Seth.

I'm not going to lie at a point in time I thought he was the one, my forever. I knew his past and his tendencies, I helped him through them all. I told him in the beginning of our relationship that cheating was the absolute worst deal breaker. He knew and respected it and I thought we were doing just fine. Hell, I thought he was on the verge of proposing at one point.

But like all good things in Dean Ambrose's life, he would rather ruin them himself than to have them stripped away from him. He knew the only way I would ever truly leave him is if he cheated on me. So that's what he did. He invited the new reporter Renee Young to our room and he set into motion one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

 I walked into our shared suite at the hotel we were staying at and it was there I saw him practically swallowing her face, and she was topless which led me to believe five minutes later and I would've caught them in the full-blown act.

I cleared my throat to catch their attention, “You know what I just need to get my gear and head. Please feel free to continue. Don't stop on my account."

I don't know what was wrong the shock I saw on Renee's face or the shock I didn't see in Dean's. In fact, Dean's face was void of all emotion while I was breaking from the inside out.

I grabbed my gear bag not worried one bit whether Renee had left or not and just as I was about to leave through the suite door, Dean decides to make his presence known.

"That's it? No yelling? No fighting? You're just gonna walk out of my life and never look back?"

"What do you want me to say Dean?! Huh? What is the correct way to handle the fact that I just caught the love of my life cheating on me with some blonde bimbo?"

"I don't know, (Y/N)! Scream at me, hit me, break something!"

"No! I'm not going to give you that satisfaction. I'm not the one who cheated. But let me just ask you one time, why? Why Dean? Was I not good enough, did I not make you happy?"

There was a slight pause and in the blink of an eye Dean's whole demeanor changed from the man I love to the man I used to loath, Jon Moxley. He walked towards me closing the small distance that was created from our fighting. Condescendingly he reached up to cup my face and replied with the smuggest expression on his face, "It has nothing to do with you, Babydoll. You just can't teach a street dog new tricks. But it was fun while it lasted I'll tell you that."

I wanted to slug the absolute shit out of him but I knew that was the reaction he was looking for and I wasn't going to grant him the satisfaction.

So instead I wretched his hands from my face, "Fun? Fun! 3 years all for a little fun. Fuck you, Moxley! Don't just stand there and tell me it meant nothing! I loved you for god’s sake." 

Nothing really caught his attention until my last statement only then did I see a glimpse of my Jon.

"Loved?" He looked at me with glassy eyes.

"Dean, what?"

"You just said 'loved' (Y/N) not 'love'."

Taking a deep breathe I considered his eyes and told him the absolute truth, "Of course I love you, Dean. God how I love you. I'll probably always love you but right now I also really hate you. Hate that you can just throw away three years of our life like that and say it was all in good fun."

"Oh, give it up (Y/N)! I'm never gonna be the man you want me to be, alright? I'm not changing for anyone not even you!"

"I never wanted you to change for me, asshole! This is going nowhere. You got your wish, you wanted me gone, so I'm going."

"Yeah, well have a nice life babe." He spat with fire in his eyes.

I laughed ruefully," You too, Mox. I truly hope you find your soulmate one day."

With that I left and shut the door on that chapter in my life. What I had missed at the time though was Dean whispering to the door I had just closed was, "I did find her, I just let her walk out of my life for her own good."

What I didn't know at the time was Dean's insecurities are what lead him to the consequences of that day. He loved me too much, he felt he didn't deserve that type of love and that if he didn't end it now something somewhere down the line would end it for him and that would break him more than anything. What he soon realized it was way past that point.

Either way that was the past and this is the very REAL future. It both honored me and made me nauseous to think about performing at a WWE event when it's been close to two years since I was even associated with them.

However, I couldn't really say no to Vince after everything he and his daughter have done for me. They were the one bridge I made sure to keep intact on my way out. The WWE was once my home and truth be told I missed it and everyone that came with it, even if I was unable to admit that particular part to myself. 

I made it a point to not keep the slightest tab on Dean's relationships through Roman or Seth if he was healthy and relatively doing well that's where my inquiries stopped. My heart never could handle the answer but now that I was going to perform at the Hall of Fame it was time to woman up and see him. 

Now here I am and it's the morning of the Hall of Fame ceremony. I knew the girls were going to be here any minute with the glam squad to start getting ready. The girls being The Bella's, Nattie, and Naomi and don't get me wrong I love these girls to death but.... I was a little nervous about all the inevitable questions I knew I was going to be bombarded with. And on top of that I didn't really have a date to the Hall of Fame. Seth had offered being the greatest best friend he is but so did my friend Jason Momoa who was in town for one thing or another. 

Jason was a very close friend of mine who knew everything about my time at the WWE and why I left, so he was more than happy to and I quote "Show that motherfucker what he's missing out on." I love Jase to death but sometimes he can be a loose cannon.

Before I could overthink too much more a knock at the door broke me of my thoughts. Knock being the polite way of saying it. It was more of bangs, shouts, and excited squeals. What can I say, I guess my girls missed me?

"(Y/N)! Get that cute little ass up and come open this door!" The ever-lovely Nikki shouts.

Swinging the door open I greet four very excited faces with a," Excuse me my ass is up and has been waiting on you four divas for about an hour now."

"Oh, really then what took you so long to answer the door huh???" Brie replied with an almost knowing look.

"Nothing just caught up in some thoughts is all."

"Would those thoughts have to do with a certain lunatic or is it more of whether you should take a date to the ceremony??" Naomi asked.

Damn these guys knew everything, it's why I loved them and hated them sometimes.

"You guys know me too well. So, before we dive into this subject you better break open that bottle of whatever you're caring Nikki so we can get to it."

"Won't it mess with your vocal cords??" She replied.

"No if anything it will help with the rasp I need to achieve some of the different notes tonight."

"Oh, okay then let's get to it girl!!"

A chorus of cheers followed as the glam team started to set up in my deluxe suite. What can I say perks of being a superstar?

After having explained my dilemma and few glasses of champagne later here we were.

"Look I can tell you right now for him to actually have a date it would require him to speak to someone of the opposite gender. Girl ever since you left he's only hung out with Seth, Roman, and the Uso twins. He doesn't even look at any girls anymore especially when we go out." Naomi divulged.

I never wanted to know Dean's relationship status especially after how we left everything but hearing this almost made me sad, almost.

"Maybe he just has someone on the down low y'all don't know about or maybe he's gotten better at hiding his escapades."

Naomi straightened me with a look really quick, "Girl you haven't seen him lately. And whatever bullshit Ro and Seth have fed you are exactly that bullshit. I know they don't want to worry you but girl people are actually starting to worry about your lunatic."

I couldn't hold back the eye roll that popped up when replying, "He's not my lunatic anymore, you know that. He made sure of that a long time ago."

"We are not trying to upset you Babe. We just know that you two were absolute soulmates and to see both of you like this hurts us because we love you." Nattie spoke up always the wiser with her words of truth. 

"Nattie, I'm fine. Or at least I thought I was.... Guys what am I going to do?? So, do I take a date or not? At least with Seth I know I'll be fine because he's like a big brother but with Jason I know he will be unpredictable. Especially because of Dean." 

I put my head in my hands trying to calm my beating heart and racing thoughts. It was then Momma Brie came up to hug me and started to rub my back in a soothing motion.

"Whatever you choose we will support you. But I think Seth is the safe choice and it's seems to me like you need the extra support tonight. If it were up to me, Nikki and I would be your dates but I don't know how Bryan and John would feel about going stag."

"Couldn't they just go together?" I whined, earning a chorus of giggles from the girls.

"I don't know girl. I think I'd get too jealous to let anyone else take my man on a date, even Bryan." Nikki replied.

"I guess." I sighed getting up to reach for my phone. "I'm going to go call Seth right now. I'll be back in five."

Finally, after a bit more gossip and a couple more glasses of champagne, the girls and I were ready to head down to the lobby to our prospective dates. 

It was nice seeing all my girls' male counterparts once again and trying to catch each other up on everything.

While the conversation was veered off me for a minute I turned towards Seth to whisper in his ear, "Where's Roman? I thought he'd at least want to see me before everything."

"He did Babe. But he's with Dean tonight since they're both going stag but he told me to tell you he loves you and he can't wait to see his Babygirl." I couldn't help but giggle at Roman's nickname for me. From day one each of the Shield boys had a special nickname for me, Roman's being Babygirl, Seth's was Babe since like childhood, and Dean's was Babydoll. I always found it very endearing, like it was their way of showing just how much they loved and cared for me.

Just as I was about to reply to Seth we heard the girls squealing the limo was here. Each couple entered the limo, Seth and I being the first two to hop in. We were sat in a corner that was secluded enough that we could converse quietly but also close enough to the others so we didn't look antisocial.

While I was sitting there It finally hit me that this was it. I was going to see Dean again whether I liked it or not. All the scenarios in my brain had me very quiet and very nervous, so much so Seth took notice.

He grabbed my knee to stop it from bouncing, which I didn't even realize I was doing.

"Relax Babe. Roman told me they are going to try and go a little later to avoid all the couples and such. He probably won't even know you're there until you're up on stage about to perform."

"Do you think he knows I'm back??"

"I don't think so. You know Dean, he repels technology and it's been pretty mums the word on your return. Question though. Are you just returning to perform or are they asking you back officially?”

Looking up at Seth I knew I couldn't lie to him, he was practically my brother after all.

"I'm not going to lie to you but yeah Stephanie and Vince really want me back."

"What?! That's great! What did you say??"

"Shhh.... I haven't said anything. Besides it depends on how tonight goes honestly."

"Between you and Dean? Honestly I think it's going to go a lot differently than you think."

"How do you know what I'm thinking?"

Seth shot me a "Really?" look and I couldn't help but sigh and drop my head down in defeat. 

Gently Seth raised my chin so that I was considering his deep imploring eyes, "Whatever happens tonight Babe, just please keep an open mind. He might surprise you. Hell, you might surprise yourself. No matter what happens you have the best support team backing you 100%."

"Here, here!" Cheered all my friends.

I guess our corner wasn't as secluded as I had thought. But before I could worry about that the limo had stopped and we had arrived to what I like to call "D-Day".

Being there in front of the WWE Universe was like a breath of fresh air, like I could finally breath. Don't get me wrong I loved all my fans whether they were with me because of my music or wrestling. There was just something about the bond I had made with the WWE Universe that really touched my heart and made me happy to be home.

But before I could soak up too much of the crowd Steph and Triple H had stopped me and Seth on our way down the red carpet.

"Hey guys! Seth, (Y/N) you look so beautiful."

"Thank you, Steph, Nice to see you again! You too Trips."

These too were the absolute best in and outside of the ring. Not only had they been some of my biggest supporters in the WWE but also outside of it too.

"It's so good to see you again, Kid. We couldn't be happier to have you join the family once again." Trips mentioned.

"Yeah now let's just hope we can keep her." Steph piped up. I couldn't help but laugh at these two always in cahoots together.

"Aw come on guys no double teaming." Seth was quick to defend. 

"No, no. You know we love you, (Y/N/N). And miss you too. Besides what I was coming to ask is since Seth is your 'date' do you mind joining him to his interviews."

"I don't see why not but who are they with?"

That's when Steph's demeanor changed slightly.

"I'll give it to you straight. One of them is with Renee but we have warned her to keep it completely professional so there shouldn't be a problem. “She said imploring me with her big blue eyes.

"Aww Steph not the puppy dog eyes! You know I can't say no to them. Alright, fine, but only because I love you two. And I'm too excited to be back to let it ruin my fun."

After we said our good byes Seth led us through a couple of simple interviews with the same old spiel of 'Welcome back', and 'Who are you wearing?', or 'Are you dating?', and lastly 'If I was returning to the WWE'.

Soon it was time for the dreadful interview I would much rather skip but here I was being lead gently but still firmly on the small of my back by Seth towards the she-devil.

At the same time, you were about to be interviewed by Renee, Dean walked in with Roman not too far behind.

Dean's POV

"Man Ro! You said we would be able to skip all this nonsense this year." I whined to my best friend.

I was walking down the red carpet trying to smooth out the stupid suit Roman made me wear when I heard a laugh. A laugh I had been dying to hear for the past two years since it was stripped from me by my own doing. I couldn't believe what I was hearing but as I looked up there she was, the woman of my dreams, my soulmate, standing there in all her glory doing an interview with Renee Young, of all people.

Damn did (Y/N) look amazing no number of photos or media coverage did her justice and that sweet laugh that I had been dying to hear since the day she left....

Was this a sign that she was here right now?

What no one, and I mean no one, knew is that ever since (Y/N) left she took everything I loved with her. My passion for her and wrestling were the only two things I ever truly lived for and without her, my love for wrestling had all but diminished. Whether anyone has noticed or not I've been coasting ever since she left and this whole last month I've been truly contemplating whether to keep wrestling for the WWE.

I genuinely believe (Y/N) is my other half and whether anyone knows it or not I broke too the day she left.

I thought I was doing it for her own good, saving her from myself but I soon realized I was just scared to be happy. I should've trusted her more with my heart but before I met (Y/N) I didn't know what real love or even true affection was and without her, life does not feel worth living. 

I don't care what god put her and I under the same roof tonight but I'm going to talk to her and I'm going to come clean about everything that went down. 

"Dean! Dude, why did you stop in the middle of the walkway." Roman taps me on the shoulder and breaks up my rapid thoughts.

"Ro, did you know she was gonna be here?" I ask pointing towards you. Just as Roman looks up we hear the tail end of your interview with Renee.

"So (Y/N) one last question, how is to be back and see everyone, especially Dean Ambrose?"

"Ha-ha you must love your job Renee with all your clever hard-hitting questions."

I couldn't help but chuckle at that. It reminded me of one of the reasons I love my Babydoll (Y/N) so much, with her spit fire personality and no filter.

"As for being back, I feel at home, I love it here. I haven't seen Dean yet but I'm sure I will. I have absolutely no hard feelings towards him. I loved him then and I can honestly say I still love him now. He helped me grow a lot as a person and as a wrestler. I wish him all the happiness in the world because he deserves nothing less than the absolute best this world has to offer. So, thanks Renee but we're going to head in now, you have fun asking the questions that matter."

As soon as she was done talking I look to Roman, as if he has the answer to the question I don't even know to ask.

"Yeah man she's here to perform tonight and join the after party. Don't look at me like that I just found out a few hours ago and I knew if I told you, you would've never come." Roman sighed patting his large hand on my shoulder before continuing, "It's time Dean and by the sound of that she's ready to see you too."

I was speechless, how was I supposed to approach or even get her alone long enough for her to even talk to me. However, I didn't have long to fret before Roman spoke up again.

"Don't worry, Uce. Lucky for you Seth and I are your brothers and are going to help you win her back. Even if I must lock you two in the same room, to either kill each other or make up. Now let's go you only have one interview but it's with Renee then we can go find you some liquid courage."

Roman patted me on the back once more and sent me on my merry way to be interviewed by Renee. Don't get me wrong I don't blame her for mine and (Y/N)'s break up. I more just feel like an asshole for using her to do it.

"Please welcome my guest at this time WWE Superstar Dean Ambrose?" Renee was quick to getting down to business. I wouldn't blame her if underneath her professionalism she hates my guts.

I answered all her mundane questions as politely as I could fathom. I just wanted to get this over with and get a drink to calm my raging nerves. It wasn't until a certain question was thrown my way that I really tuned in.

"So, Dean, now that's (Y/N) is back the WWE universe wants to know your thoughts on it? Have you seen or talked to her yet?" Renee asked quite smug about the off-guard reaction her first question rendered. But I'm Dean Ambrose for god’s sake and I don't scare that easy, so I just said the first thing that came to mind,

"To answer your first question Renee, she took my breath away she looked as gorgeous as ever. As for my thoughts, I'm not sure what you want me to say. I loved her then and I still love her now. I wish her good luck tonight on her performance and hope this isn't the last we see of her. If that's all thanks Renee."

No sooner was I ushered away by Roman to the nearest open bar to get some jack and coke to settle my nerves before finding our assigned seats.

Dean's POV 

 I hadn't had a chance to see or talk to (Y/N) since the show had started. By the time I had the courage to seek her out it was time for everybody to be ushered to their seats. 

Unfortunately for me we were assigned to seats on opposite spectrums of the arena. Ro and I were sat near his family and a few of the Hall of Famers while (Y/N) and Seth were surround by most of the Smackdown Women's roster and their prospective dates. Damn did she look amazing though, truly she was the most beautiful creature not just on the outside but inside as well. That woman has a heart of gold I always felt I was so undeserving of. But after almost two years of being deprived of such beauty, I felt like a dying man out in the dessert. I was drinking her in like she was the last oasis on earth. She must have felt me starring because before I knew it her big beautiful eyes were locked on to mine and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Something in them was like nothing I've seen before. Was it longing? Was it love? No, it couldn't be. I wasn't that lucky. I didn't know what to do or say because damn was I under her spell like never before. However, it was her to initiate the break in tension. 

Sending me a shy smile and wave that nearly had my heart beating out of my chest but before I could get too excited I looked around me to make sure it was for me. After having found no one else I sought her out once again only to receive one of her 1000 watts smiles I would've given life or limb for since the breakup. 

All to soon though she was being pulled into conversations with the people around her. I too was broken out of our interaction by Naomi clicking her tongue at me.

"Ambrose, I swear to god if you miss this second chance you've been given to make things right, I'm going to murder you. That's my best friend and I'll be damned if I see her happiness stolen away from her again."

"Naomi," I sighed not sure how to reply. "I-I fucking love her, okay? Is that what you want to hear? And all I've ever wanted was for her to be happy."

"Yea you were just too stupid to realize her happiness included you. So, you better talk to her and make things right before the end of tonight." She gave me a stern look that had me literally scared for my life. What can I say my Babydoll was quite loved by all?

"I will, I promise." I implored Naomi.

Before anything else could be said the ceremony commenced

Dean's POV 

And all to soon it was the intermission before (Y/N)'s performance. I'm not going to lie I was a little nervous to see just what songs she picked to perform tonight. So much so I was on my way back to the open bar to have a few more drinks while I still could.

 (Y/N)'s POV

Damn why was I so nervous? I've performed in countless sold out venues with thousands of screaming fans. Why was this so different? Oh, that's right the main person responsible for the subject matter is here, possibly going to hear it for the first time.

I'll be the first to admit when I wrote most of my songs I was hurt and in a very different state of mind. But now I've healed and forgiven him. Hell, I said I still loved him for crying out loud on live television.

Relax, (Y/N) you can get through one performance and then after if he doesn't hate you too much you can talk to him. Ahh I hope it's not too late for us.

"10 minutes till we go on and everyone is being ushered back to their seats." A stage hand called out.

Perfect! This is my time to sneak out to the open bar for one last drink. As I walk towards the bar very lost in my thoughts of my upcoming performance I ran into what felt like a brick wall. And seeing as I was in 6" stiletto heels catching my balance was not an option. But before I could continue crashing towards my inevitable doom two very familiar hands caught me. My body was lit ablaze by these two familiar hands. I felt as if the touch that belonged to the owner was seared into my soul for all eternity. A permanent fingerprint on my very being. It wasn't until I looked up into the all too familiar stormy blue eyes, that the owner of said hands were confirmed.

It took me a minute of starring into the stormy eyes before I realized just how close and firmly he was holding me to him. Our bodies were slotted together like two missing puzzle pieces finally coming together. Between the warmth of his body and his intoxicating scent I was at a loss for words, barely able to gasp out a simple,

"Dean..."

As he registered his name falling from my lips his eyes softened and his demeanor changed as if he had held his breath for the past two years waiting for the day I would speak it once again.

"Hey there, Babydoll."

I was shocked I didn't know what to say or do. I knew my time was limited but before I could say anything he spoke first.

"We need to talk."

My body tensed just a fraction, not because I didn't want to talk but because I didn't have much time before I had to perform and I didn't want him to feel like I was blowing him off.

Sighing and hanging his head he replied, "I know you probably want nothing to do with me but I swear just give me five minutes of your time and if you don't like what I have to say... I swear I'll never bother you again."

The dejected sad puppy looks he was sporting had my stomach in knots, I had never seen him like this and I'd be damned if I ever did again.

Gently I placed my hand under his chin and lifted until the eyes that I have come to crave were starring right back at me.

"Jon... I would love nothing more than to give you those five minutes but I'm about to hit the stage and I don't really think this is a conversation for here."

The hope that sparkled in his eyes had my heart soaring and he was quick to reply," Of course yeah, I know. Can I meet you after or something? I promise you, name the time and place and I'll be there."

"I'll leave a card to my suite for you at the front desk if that's okay but there's just one more thing I have to say..."

At this he hung his head I guess expecting the worst but I had to carry on and warn him about my set list that was chosen for me tonight.

"It's nothing bad, Dean. You can look and me. Please..." I waited until his blue orbs met mine once again, " I just want you to know that the songs that were chosen for me to perform tonight were written when I was in a very dark place... I need you to know that I don't feel that way anymore. I guess what I want you to understand is-is"

"(Y/N)!! There you are we got to go you're on in five and we still need to do touch ups."

And before I could say another word I was being dragged in the opposite direction of the love of my life. Before I could be pulled too far I made a rash decision....

I didn't put too much thought into it as I ran to Dean and before he could utter a single syllable, I grabbed him and kissed him for all he was worth. Best part about it was the kiss was instantly received and returned. I could feel both our love and passion for each other translate through the kiss. All too soon though I broke it so I could say,

"Understand that I still love you..."

And then I was off not waiting for his reply. I had to run towards the stage and pass a very peeved stage hand. But I didn't care not when I felt the universe was giving me and my one and only soulmate another chance at happiness.

Most of my set wasn't too bad it was the closing number I was worried about. Yes, I had performed Praying (by Kesha) many times in countless venues but never in front of him. To my knowledge anyway, later I would come to find out Dean was one of my biggest supporters and had even been to a couple of shows. 

But as of right now I was terrified I didn't want him to feel like this song was a dig at him. It never was, even when I first wrote it. It was more for me to heal than anything. To purge my thoughts of all the bad because in the end I knew I loved this man with all my heart and soul. I just didn't want to ruin the second chance we had been given before it even had a chance to happen.

Throughout most of my set list I made sure to no make eye contact with Dean. Not because I didn't want to but because I knew I would break if I did. But with this song there was no easy way to avoid that. I was constantly going back and forth in my mind not sure of how this was going to play out. But before I knew it was time to announce my closing song.

"I just want to take a moment and thank my fans especially the WWE universe for sticking by me through everything. I love you guys and without y'all I wouldn't be able to do what I love whether it's making music or wrestling. So, thank you so much. This next song is very close to my heart so I ask that y'all be gentle with me okay?"

Cheers resounded from the front row to the balcony and I couldn't help the cheesy smile that popped up on my face.

"I love you guys and without further a due here's the last but certainly not the least song for tonight Praying. And I encourage y'all to jump in at any time."

As I started the first few riffs of the song I was able to calm my racing heart and let the music naturally flow through me.

Well, you almost had me fooled

Told me that I was nothing without you

Oh, but after everything you've done

I can thank you for how strong I have become

'Cause you brought the flames and you put me through hell

I had to learn how to fight for myself

And we both know all the truth I could tell

I'll just say this is "I wish you farewell"

As I started to sing I got lost in the memories of our breakup. All too soon I could feel tears sting the back of my eyes and my voice cracked during part of the chorus. I was able to catch myself just enough to continue to the next line because I'd be damned if I messed up the bridge. It was the most important part.

I'm proud of who I am No more monsters, I can breathe again And you said that I was done Well, you were wrong and now the best is yet to come 'Cause I can make it on my own And I don't need you, I found a strength I've never known I'll bring thunder, I'll bring rain, oh When I'm finished, they won't even know your name...

Again, I had the audience help with the chorus and as soon as the next part came I don't know what possessed me but I locked eyes with glassy blue orbs as I uttered the next part of my song, 

"Oh, sometimes, I pray for you at night

Someday, maybe you'll see the light

Oh, some say, in life, 

you're gonna get what you give,

But some things only God can forgive" 

and then I high the incredibly high note without missing a beat. All too soon the song was done but right before I blew a kiss goodbye to the crowd I looked straight at Dean and mouthed the words 'I love you'.  And seeing him there giving me a standing ovation along with everybody else was amazing. But the most amazing part was seeing his unshed tears followed by a reply of 'I love you too'. Right at that moment is when I let a few tears fall as I made my way backstage. I headed straight to my dressing room not letting a single person stop me.

On the way, there I was overwhelmed with the thoughts running through my head. It felt like I was telling him goodbye for some reason but I wasn't. If anything, I was saying good bye to all the hurt and anger I had carried for so long. I just hope he understands. God, I hope he understands.

 I walked into my dressing room and completely broke down, sliding my back against the wall until I landed on the floor, with all my pent-up emotions I didn't even hear the knock at the door nor did I hear someone walk in.

It wasn't until I felt two arms wrap around me and had his familiar scent hit my nose did I know it was Dean. He shushed my crying and rubbed my back, saying things like 'It's ok, Babydoll, I'm right here'. 'It's all going to be okay'. 'I promise.', while also kissing the crown of my head every now and again.

Soon I had stopped crying but I was at the point exhaustion kicked in. Before I could voice what I needed he was already scooping me up and heading out the back to his rental he brought. He just knew, he always knew what I needed, most of the time before I even knew. I guess that's the thing about soulmates, you're one in the same. Two parts of one whole and at this moment I was glad to call him my other half. Before we reached the car Dean made sure to send a quick text to Roman and Seth.

Only silence passed as we drove back to the hotel we were staying at, foregoing the after party all together. Though no talking was done, Dean made sure to give me little nonverbal reassurances by holding my hand and giving it a good squeeze every now and again.

Finally, we had arrived at our hotel but instead of letting me walk Dean once again picked me up bridal style, with my hands around his neck and my head tucked in between where his shoulder met his neck, while we headed to my room number I had muttered in his ear on the way to the elevator. 

Throughout the whole journey I couldn't help but release a few residual sniffles or sobs. I felt so raw in this moment and the way Dean was holding me like I was his everything, like he would protect me in my most vulnerable state, even now it meant the world to me.

He was able to open the door with ease as he slipped us inside and walk straight towards my bedroom.

Dean's POV 

Seeing my Babydoll so raw and vulnerable had my stomach in knots and my heart absolutely aching. I just wanted to take her pain away, the pain that I had caused. Not having faith in myself and the love we shared all those years ago will be my single greatest regret for as long as I live. But starting right now I wasn't going to deny her or myself the love that was meant to be any longer.

As I walked us into her room, I gently laid her on the bed. I was planning to go find her a change of clothes. But as soon as she felt me letting go her arms became a vice around my neck and I heard a whimper, "Please don't leave me."

If my heart wasn't already aching, that sure did the trick. I combed my fingers through her hair shushing her panicked state. "Babydoll, I promise you, I'm not leaving you ever again. Until you ask me to leave, it's going to take god himself to pry me from your side. I just want to find you a change of clothes. As pretty as that dress is, it's not much for sleepwear. Now just lay down darlin' while I find you some clothes."

I laid her down gently and went off in search of some sleeping clothes. As I was looking through her suit case a certain item of clothing caught my eye. As I picked it up I realized it was my Deftones concert t-shirt she always used to wear when we were together. I had been looking for that shirt for ages, mainly because it was a reminder of her. Never did I think she'd have it or even want a reminder of me. I grabbed the well-loved shirt and a pair of those boy shorts she always use to wear around the apartment. Damn did I miss the good old days. Focus Dean this isn't about you damnit this is about taking care of your Babydoll when she needs you the most!

Snapping out of my thoughts I see her curled in on herself and nearly asleep. I had to coax her up and out of her dress. 

"No Dean! I'm naked under here. I'll change myself in the bathroom." She whined trying to bat my hands away.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before darlin'. Now will you please shush and let taking care of you. Please?" I implored. A slight pause followed but it wasn't until I received a head nod that I proceed to unzip her gown. 

Gently I made sure not to ruin the delicate backing of the dress and as my hand descended the curve of her back, my hand brushed her spine and I saw a visible shutter pass through her. It was good to know she was as affected as I was but now wasn't the time nor place for that. 

Quickly I pushed the gown to pool at her feet and slipped my t-shirt over her head. Then I had her sit on the bed so I could slip on her underwear making sure to keep direct eye contact the whole time.

Once she was dressed and situated, having also wiped of the mascara tracks that ran down her face along with the rest of her makeup, I laid her down under the covers and kissed her heading before heading towards the couch where I would be taking up residence until the morning. But before I could even turn around a small hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.

"Dean, please don't-"

"Shhh, Kitten I'm not leaving I'm just gonna crash on the couch and we can talk in the morning but we will talk I can promise you that."

"No Dean please, just lay with me. I don't want to be alone anymore." She had whispered so quietly I almost missed it. Damn Dean you really did a number on your Babydoll...

I felt like the wind had got knocked out of me when I heard those words. It took all I had in me not to break down and cry. Most people thought I was a heartless lunatic with no emotions. What they didn't know is that I gave my heart away a long time ago to (Y/N). The one good thing in my life and I had nearly broken her because I felt like I wasn't enough, like I didn't deserve to be loved the way she loved me. 

Without saying a word, I stripped off my shoes, dress jacket, and belt so I could climb into the other side of her bed, opening my arms wide so she could crawl into my embrace. She practically molded to my body and I hadn't felt this whole or at peace in a while. I didn't know what tomorrow would bring but I would hold her tight for as long as she let me.

"You're not alone, Kitten, not anymore. Just get some rest and I promise you everything will be better in the morning." I finally told her emphasizing my words with a lingering kiss to her temple.

The only reply I received was her snuggling closer to my body and her face burrowing further into my neck, like she used to when we were still together and had just had some passionate love making. The gesture gave me the chills but also hope of what tomorrow would bring. Right before I succumbed to slumber myself I whispered gently to (Y/N), "I love you, Babydoll and I swear I plan on making things right. I don't care how long it takes I will make it up to." 

Dean's POV

Waking up with my Babydoll in my arms was such a bittersweet moment. It was a feeling I have craved for the last two years. I never thought I'd get this chance again, if I'm being completely honest with myself. But after last night and seeing (Y/N) so vulnerable and raw I couldn't help but want to soothe her pain. She is the love of my life after all.

Walking into her dressing room last night after her heart felt performance and seeing her with tear stained cheeks and snot coming out of her nose, I swear she never looked more beautiful to me. Even now without the makeup and flashing lights she was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, inside and out.

I watched her sleep in peaceful slumber for as long as I could. I made sure to memorize all the features I had been denied these last couple of years. Just in case I never got the chance to be this up close and personal with her again. Before I could realize it, I found my hand gently tracing over her cheeks as my thumb came to rest where her dimples would appear in times of joy and happiness. It had me want to relive all the moments that I was the one to make them appear. I know she always said how much she loved my dimples but nothing could compare to hers and the way the made my heart flutter anytime they made an appearance.

Her eyes fluttered open and I could see the recognition of last night's events pass through her eyes. 

"Dean..." she gasped.

"Hey Gorgeous." I smiled at her loving the sleepy adorableness that accompanied her voice but all to soon the moment shifted and I could tell she was upset about something.

"Dean...I-I'm so sorry about last night. That-that song... I didn't want you to have to hear it, not like that, not if front of the WWE universe like that. I'm so sorry." She started to sob in the crook of my shoulder.

"Hey, hey, hey, Shhh. Babydoll, look at me." I waited until her glassy orbs met mine. "That wasn't the first time I've heard that song and believe or not I deserved that."

"Wha- No Dean you-"

"(Y/N), I'm telling you it's okay. I'm not mad. Kitten, please I could never be mad at you not after what I did to you." 

"Dean I-" 

"No (Y/N), I need to explain myself. We need to talk about what happened that night I made you leave."

(Y/N)'s POV

"Before you say anything Dean. I need to know one thing."

"Anything."

"Why? Why did you do it?"

There was a long drawn out pause lingering between us. I wasn't going to be the first one to break it. We have come this far and he could at least have the decency to tell me why.

I could see the storm brewing in his eyes, the guilt, the sadness, everything passes through him until he finally spoke.

"Honestly (Y/N), I was scared." He sighed.

At that I pushed myself out of his arms and sat up on the opposite side of the bed from him.

"Scared of what Dean?! Scared of someone loving you like you deserve to be loved!" I yell incredulously. 

"See that's the thing I don't deserve it! And I was scared that if I was too happy that something somewhere down the line would take you from me. I mean honestly Kitten you deserve so much more than a mangy street mutt like me. You deserve someone who will give you more than I ever could. So, I did what I had to do to set you free and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret it. I mean I don't know if you've noticed but I'm drowning here without you (Y/N)."

God, I didn't know whether to kiss or punch this self-deprecating asshole. When was he going to learn he deserves so much more than life has given him. Whether he knows it or not he has one of the kindest hearts I ever known and for him to feel this way about himself pisses me off. 

"Haven't you ever heard the saying Dean? 'If you love someone, you let them go. If they return to you they were always yours and if they don't they never were.'"

"Well then Darlin', then that's what this is, me return to you. Cause let's face it I'm yours, I will always be yours whether you want me or not. (Y/N), I can truly stand here and tell you my life did not begin until you walked into it that day at FCW."

"Dean..."

"No Babydoll I mean it! And I know there is nothing I can do to take back what I did but I promise if you let me, I'll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you."

Considering his eyes, I could see the sincerity and the vulnerability of his words. I knew I loved this man, I knew he was the one for me but I was scared, not of getting back together with him. I feared having to learn to live without him again if I did let him back in.

"I'm scared, Jon. I don't know if I could learn to live without you, again. It-It would destroy me." I whimpered.

When I said that his unshed tears had finally fallen and it's shook me to the core, not once in the time that I had known 'Dean Ambrose' did he let himself be this open or this raw. All I wanted to do was hold him and tell him everything was going to be fine. That no matter what I'd always be there for him but my fear was gripping me too tight.

Dean closed the gap between us and cupped my face in his big calloused hands so that we were looking straight into each other's eyes. Eyes I missed waking up to every morning or seeing as the last thing before I went to bed. For a moment, I genuinely felt like we were seeing each other's souls and it was at that moment my fear finally diminished but it was Dean who spoke first.

"I promise you, (Y/N) on everything that is good and right in this world, you will never ever have to learn how to live without me again. I will be with you always, every step of the way. I want to love you, marry you, give you babies. I want to grow old with you and sit out on rocking chairs on a porch looking out into the yard at all our future grandchildren and reminisce on the good times we had. Please let me show just how much I love you. Let me show you I'm here to stay."

At this point I was crying but not sad tears. I was overjoyed at the prospect of our future together and for Dean to be the one voicing it meant everything to me.

Unfortunately, he saw my crying as a negative, "No, no, no. Babydoll please don't cry, please. I love you (Y/N). Please."

I couldn't help the next words that flew out of my mouth. I looked him deep into his soul and said, "Show me. Make love to me, Dean."

It was as if the air had been knocked from his lungs but he didn't need to be told twice.

He kissed me like he was in a dessert for two years and I was his only oasis. At one point, I had to grab his face and pull him away so I could get air to my lungs, however, his pout that surfaced on his face nearly melted my heart.

"Take it easy, Handsome. I'm not going anywhere. “I bore into his bright blue eyes and finally saw the love and light return to them.

He had such a sheepish expression as he replied, "Sorry Kitten. I've just missed you so damn much."

Once I could finally breath again he resumed searing kisses to my mouth, jaw, and neck. It wasn't until he reached my collar bones that I received a frustrated growl and a muttered, “Wearing too much clothes."

Before I could even register what he said his shirt that I wore was ripped off my body exposing my naked chest to his loving gaze.

"I can't wait to mark up all this beautiful skin, Kitten. I have a lot of making up to do. Be ready to not leave this bed... ever."

"Dean..." I whined tugging at his shirt. "I want to see you too. Show me what's mine." I purred the last word in his ear. As soon as it left my mouth Dean tore his black dress shirt making sure to pop off all the buttons in the process. The amount of lust shown in his eyes were mirrored in his actions of undressing himself, down to his underwear. But as soon as he returned to the bed to hover over me the lust in his eyes turned to love quickly.

His hands gently traced my curves from my hips all the way until they landed on my breast. He received quite the breathy moan only further encouraging him to get reacquainted with me body after so long away from it.

"Dean please I want-" but before I could finish my words turned into a silent moan as he pinched and tweaked each nipple in his rough and calloused hands.

"Want what Babydoll? Just tell me and it's yours." He husked, kissing my cheeks and encouraging me to voice what I wanted him to do to my body. 

"Mouth Dean. Please I want your mouth." I panted not able to concentrate with all the sensations he was creating on my body. I honestly don't know how I went two years without this man worshiping my body.

He slowly descended from the love bites he was leaving on my neck to attach his mouth to my breast kissing, sucking, and even biting the sides of each one. One particular bite had me grabbing at his shaggy auburn hair. Earning a growl from him and an answering moan from me. This man knew all my buttons and was pushing at them faster that my body could handle. I was in such a haze I missed him literally ripping my boy shorts from my body and I couldn't even be mad because all too soon his dirty mouth was on my core. 

He teased at my outer lips, licking and sucking at the juices that had gathered at the apex of my thighs by all his teasing.

He growled as my juices first hit his tongue, "God damn, I've missed this, so sweet, so wet." He lapped at my cunt, "I could spend all day between these thighs, Babydoll."

"Dean, Baby, please no more teasing." I gripped his hair and guided him to my throbbing clit. The moment his tongue lashed my bundle of nerves I was screaming his name. The way his tongue moved and writhed, I could tell he was branding my pussy as his once again. And soon his thick fingers were joining the fray.

"Fuck, Doll. So tight, even tighter than I remember. Fuck!" He panted against my pussy.

"This-" he emphasized by thrusting his fingers roughly in and out, "this is mine, Babydoll. No one can have this. You and this pussy are mine you hear me." He growled.

"Yours, always yours. There's no one else, never has been. I love you, Jon" I whined. 

"I love you too. Fuck I love you so much. Cum for me, Babydoll. Cum for me." He grunted before sucking my clit and humming on it. I was instantly cumming with his name on the tip of my tongue, fingers buried in his hair, and back arched off the bed. I can't remember the last time I came that hard by my own hand.

I couldn't dwell too much before Dean had cleaned my spilt juices and was on his way up my body. Leaving hot kisses in his wake trying to sooth my body down from it's high. Quickly I was met with bright blue eyes and a cheeky little smile on my lunatic's face.

"Oh yeah laugh it up Babe. Seems you still got a mouth on ya." How is it that this man was between my thighs not two minutes ago and I'm the one who's blushing?

"You know you love my mouth Kitten." He mumbled against my lips as we languidly kissed each other until the tension built to an all-time high and his not so little Mox was poking at me through his boxers.

"I think your friend would like some attention. Why don't I return the favor?" I finally spoke as I tried to wiggle out of the embrace he had me in to reach his member, I knew it had to be aching by now. 

He grabbed me by the hips before I could get too far. "Nuh-uh not today. You wanted me to show you how much I love you and I'll be damned if you don't know by the time I'm done."

"I know, Jon. I know." I told him running my hands across his jaw, through his hair, and dragging my nails down his back in a teasing manner. The visible shutter I was rewarded with encouraged my actions. Slowly I trailed my hands all the way down to his trim waist and glided my hands across the waistband of his boxers.

"Take them off." I demanded and he was all too eager to obey.

As he got closer and settled between the apex of my thighs I grabbed his hard member and gave a few exploratory tugs making sure to run my thumb over his angry red tip, spreading the precum that had gathered there. Earning a lusty moan in response. 

"Fuck Kitten it's been too long since I've been touched like this. You keep that up and I'll blow before we even get started."

His words had me pausing mid stroke. "What do you mean 'You haven't been touched in a while'. Dean are you saying you haven't had sex since we broke up???"

"God no Kitten. I couldn't even think about someone other than you touching me. I'm yours (Y/N) always have been."

I was shocked at this confession, here was this man, this sexual animal that could ooze charm and charisma, that at any given moment could have women falling over themselves to get into his bed. Knowing he hadn't been with anyone since me really cemented what the girls had said to me, that we were soulmates and if anyone was meant to be together it was us.

I couldn't help but pull him by the back of his neck and kiss the ever-living daylights out of him. While he was so distracted by my assault, I slowly started to slide him in relishing every achingly thick inch of him. Soon we were connected and it felt as if two missing puzzle pieces had finally come together.

I knew he needed a minute by the way he was heavily trying to catch his breath and I was in the same boat having not been stretched like this in a long time. Being connected to him like this, I finally felt like I was home.

They say the home is where the heart is well this lunatic had had a strangle hold on it since day one.

"Fuck Babydoll. It feels like coming home... I've missed you so fucking much."

He mumbled against my breast as he began his slow and steady thrusts. Making sure I felt every inch on the way in. I couldn't help the way my hands ran down his back and grabbed at his ass hungrily, motivating him further in his assault.

"Dean, fuck baby. Please harder." I moaned.

He was all too enthusiastic to pick up the pace and intensity. I instantly felt it in the pit of my stomach starting to build. Between his open-mouthed kisses, he left on any patch of skin he could reach and the power behind his thrusts, I knew I wouldn't last that long. 

He knew as much and commented himself on the matter, "Shit Kitten you keep gripping me like a vice like that I'm not gonna last much longer. Fuck!" His hips stuttered as his dick finally started hammering at my g-stop with pinpoint accuracy. "Where do you want it Babydoll? Come on baby tell me where." He kissed my lips once more. 

"Inside me. Please Dean your Babydoll needs to feel her lunatic." I purred against his mouth. He growled one last time as I screamed his name to the heavens as we came together and he filled me with his hot sticky cum. 

We both laid there desperately trying to catch our breaths. His hands slid up and down all my curves soothing any aches his enthusiasm might have caused, while I combed my fingers through his hair as his head rested on my naked chest, placing a few kisses every now and then right over my heart.

I couldn't help the giggle that left my mouth at the turn of events. In our haste at reuniting once again it completely slipped my mind it was WrestleMania Day and I let him know as such.

"Well no WrestleMania could replace the love we share or memories we just created." He said. 

"Oh, is that right?"

"That's right." He replied kissing me on my nose for emphasis.

"Not even if a certain Kitten was to make her WrestleMania return to help out a certain lunatic fringe. I hear he runs the asylum and I'm quite intrigued to see where they go with each other.”

The laugh that rolled through his body had us both shaking in the bed. But soon the laughter died down and he was looking at me with such admiration and love it nearly brought me to tears all over again.

 "I love you, my feisty little Kitten."

"And I love you, my unstable lunatic fringe." 

A/N: Thank you if you stuck til the very end. Sorry if it was complete trash. I’d love to hear feedback either way. Please and thanks again!! 

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#wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe smut #dean ambrose imagine #dean ambrose x reader #dean ambrose smut #my writing

[souloben]

dating stiles stilinski would include

- Stiles having a crush on you since the day you met, and becoming incredibly awkward/flustered around you.

- Scott noticing both your heartbeat's go wild when you and Stiles are in the room together.

- Stiles struggling to muster up the courage to ask you out.

- "Stiles, it's one sentence and you've liked her since forever."

- "Yeah but Scott, what if she says no?"    

- When he finally manages it, he'd spend way too much time planning every detail of the date including a minute by minute guide on what to do and say to you.

- "Stiles, is this all for that girl you like?"

- “..Maybe”     

- Him basically having heart palpitations asking you, then realizing he’d panicked for nothing as you accepted with a huge grin on your face. 

- You both being incredibly awkward on the first date, but it ended up going really well.

- Stiles would let you do all the talking, that's how much he likes you.

- And you'd both go on many more future dates.

- Him asking you to prom.

- Spending the night slow dancing and being the couple that everybody admired.

- He'd freak out about the whole supernatural thing, feeling incredibly guilty for hiding such a big thing from you.

- He'd probably beg Scott for advice.

- "Come on Scotty, use your werewolf senses. Will she break up with me if I tell her?"

- "Stiles, I'm not psychic."

- You eventually asked your best friend Allison about it, and she relented and explained everything.

- Going to Stiles' house and trying your hardest to stay mad as you ranted to him about his lying.

- Him profoundly apologizing, knowing you hated betrayals of trust more than anything.

- You storming off into the night, incredibly hurt and pissed off.

- Then probably crying because you'd had your first fight with your boyfriend.

- Unable to give Stiles the silent treatment because he bugged you non stop, whether this was at school or via text.

- Stiles reinforced his friend's help so that he could apologize to you in an incredibly epic and romantic way.

- His plan sort of failed, and he was left running up to you after class and begging for your forgiveness.

- You rolled your eyes and the two of you had your first kiss right then and there. It wasn't anything romantic like he had planned, but it was still perfect in every way.

- You going to his first lacrosse game where he was actually on the team, and cheering your support in the stands just as loud as his father was.

- Completely freaking out when he went missing, to the point of losing all hope of sleep over worrying about your MIA boyfriend.

- Doing everything in your power to find out where he was, even though you're only human with pretty bad detective skills.

- When he arrived back home at the Stilinski house, his dad texted you immediately and you arrived there so fast that anyone would think you did have supernatural abilities.

- Hugging him so hard that he lost his balance and the two of you collapsed onto his bed in a heap.

- You being the only one he told the truth about where he'd been.

- Not letting go of his hand for a moment as he relived the memory of Gerard beating him up.

- Wanting to throw something you were so angry.

- Staying over at his house for the night, the first time in your relationship.

- Your hands remained intertwined even as you slept.

- Being the only person to match his sarcasm level.

- Being each other's soulmate, other half, friend and lover.

- "Wait, you're my girlfriend-and you haven't seen Star Wars?"

- “No Stiles, I haven’t seen Star Wars.”        

- Watching Star Wars together, and Stiles feeling proud and violated because you end up being a bigger fan than him. 

- Stiles taking enormous pride in the fact that he can kiss you and show displays of affection in public.

- Probably embarrassing you often by whispering cheesy pickup lines in class.

- God, those pickup lines were terrible. But in a good way.

- You being the only one he trusted to drive the jeep, Scott being a close second.

- You picking up on his baseball bat skills, and eventually being named the 'two idiots with baseball bats' by the pack.

- Being the first one to realize what was about to happen when Stiles dropped the flare in the puddle of gasoline, and pulling both of them down as the explosion occurred behind them.

- Promising him that they would find his father, no matter what. You felt obliged to, not just for Stiles, but for your own sake too. The sheriff was almost like a father figure to you, too.

- Being present at the time of his panic attack, and being incredibly flustered and worried seeing as it was the first time he'd had one in front of you. You were desperate to calm him down, but your scared state just panicked him further. After many failed attempts at soothing him, you ended up pressing your lips to his. Thankfully, he held his breath which stopped the panic attack.

- After that experience, knowing how to calm down Stiles the right way whenever he panicked.

- Being just as happy as Stiles when they found his dad.

- Being his emotional tether for the sacrifices, and near breaking down when they explained what you had to do.

- Flinging your arms around him and hugging him tightly when all three of them woke up, despite the fact that he was soaking wet-neither of you cared.

- Being woken in the night by the sounds of Stiles' screams when the nightmares started, and being the only one who could calm him and lull him back to sleep.

- Noticing all the bad signs he was beginning to show-irritability, dark circles, even paler skin than usual, and his new inability to read or focus properly.

- Trying your absolute best to help him and being to one to force him to go to Melissa and ask her about it.

- Scott telling you immediately after Stiles had rang him in the middle of the night, near tears and terrified, that he didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten there. He'd begged Scott not to tell you about it, because you already worried too much about him, but Scott knew you'd find out either way.

- Comforting Stiles before his MRI scan, trying hard not to cry in front of him and refusing to leave the hospital until he was done.

- Being inconsolable when he goes missing again, the repeat of a few years ago almost too much for you to bear.

- Being the only one able to ward off the Nogitsune from Stiles' mind, like an anchor, if only for short periods of time.

- You stood in the way of Scott and ended up being stabbed by the Nogitsune instead.

- When the real Stiles broke free for a little while, he spent all his time at the hospital by your bedside, anxiously ruminating and constantly near tears.

- You were completely distraught by his decision to basically lock himself in Eichen House to prevent further damage done when the Nogitsune possessed him again, and begged him to stay.

- Hating the feeling of being utterly helpless as your boyfriend remained controlled by the evil fox spirit, and you were left as an almost defenseless human with no way of bringing back Stiles.

- The Nogitsune being disgusted and yet fascinated by how completely and utterly in love Stiles is with you.

- "I'm not telling you anything."

- "You won't have to. You'll be screaming."

- Holding onto Stiles for the entirety of the Nogitsune's final trick, whether that be grasping his hand or him leaning onto you, you both stayed inseparable the whole time.

- Stiles holding you and stroking your hair after Allison's death, knowing nothing could really heal the fresh wound that had been inflicted on your heart. 

- Stiles confessing he loves you in a gentle whisper as he softly kisses your forehead, the words escaping from his lips before he could contain himself.

- After the void situation, you and Stiles would be even more inseparable than usual. You'd spend all your time together, watching movies or just talking in general.

- The two of you would spend a lot of time 'studying'.

- Wearing his hoodies and flannels. He wouldn't object though, he thinks you look adorable in them.

- Sometimes catching yourself staring too deeply into his golden brown eyes, and he'd smile softly and kiss you.

- Whenever he's anxious or scared, which is quite often with all the situations they get dragged into, you are his anchor. Just the sweaty clasp of your hands intertwined or his shaking hand running through your hair with immense delicacy, you always calm him.

- More "Studying".

- Both of you having a love - hate relationship with Derek Hale.

- Stiles smirking proudly when you hit Derek with a wave of sarcasm.

- Arguing like a married couple over 'bad planning' in Mexico.

- So much sarcasm.

- You're both the one couple that most people pretend to hate but secretly love. Scott will ship you both until the day he dies.

- "What? You got claws, I got a bat."

- "Babe, that's my thing."    

- “You’re just too poetic to resist quoting.” 

- “You’re lucky I love you.” 

-  Endless text messages at 3 AM.

- If either of you were upset and the other couldn't come over, you and Stiles would talk to each other over the phone for hours and eventually fall asleep to the sound of the other's voice.                                            

 - Being like a frantic mother over Liam, pissing off Stiles because you're ruining his 'authority'.

- Supporting Stiles in all of his lacrosse games.

- Having absolutely no shame when it comes to after the game, you always ran down to the field and started kissing him right then and there.

- Being incredibly close with Malia, both you and Stiles teaching her the ways of actual humanity.

- Endless sass.

- "Malia, humans are friends, not food."

- "Stiles, you never gave me that advice.”

-  "Yeah, and if it wasn't for me then my dad would have arrested you plenty of times by now.”

- "Babe, kindly shut the hell up about my criminal record."

- Stiles attempting to teach you some of his detective knowledge after explaining to him about how useless you felt. The two of you stayed up till the early hours of the morning, planning suspects and endless red string, and you eventually fell asleep in his arms.

- Feeling weakened by the supernatural virus quickly spreading around the school, you and Stiles held each other's hand and became increasingly worried by the pack's psychical state.

- Stiles assuring you he'd come back when he decided to try and find some kind of cure for the disease, reminding you he'd never leave you behind.

- Staying with Malia, Scott and Kira while you became even more worried about Stiles.

- Both you and Stiles remained suspicious about Theo Raeken, whereas the rest of the pack did otherwise.

- Assuring him when he talked about his fear of losing his friends after senior year, and embracing after you added you'd like to be part of his future 'vision'.

- You were the first person Stiles told the Donovan incident to, you'd noticed how he winced and held his shoulder once you turned away, you'd noticed how panicked he looked when lost in thought.

- He explained the whole thing with tears falling down his cheeks, his entire being radiating worry, stress and anxiety as he feared for how you'd react. His worst fear was losing you.

- You understood the situation, and comforted him with the firm telling that the entire thing was out of self defense, and he wasn't a monster nor a killer.

- You telling Stiles that he needed to explain it to Scott, but he was adamant on keeping it secret.

- Stiles getting incredibly frustrated and jealous when Theo attempted to flirt with you, but you were having none of it.

- You secretly getting way too emotional about Liam and Hayden's relationship. 

- "Stiles, our baby is growing up."

- Comforting him after Scott and Stiles had a huge argument over the Donovan incident, desperately trying to find a way to bring the pack together again.

- Being the one to persuade Stiles to help Scott.

- Spending days at the hospital with Stiles, sitting by his injured father's bedside, holding his hand and trying to calm his constant train of worried thoughts.

- Eventually falling asleep on Stiles' shoulder.

- Joining together to come up with a plan to save Lydia from Eichen House.

- Writing your initials next to the other at Senior Scribe.

- Stiles reminding you he loves you before he gets taken by the Ghost Riders, and you being left with the feeling that you've forgotten something.

- You just don't know what.

- Trying to persuade your friends that this person you've forgotten is real.

- Your heart aching when Scott shows you the group picture, with the clear empty spot where Stiles should be.

- "I think I loved him.”

- Succumbing to the tears that stung your eyes after communicating with Stiles through the radio in his jeep.

- After remembering Stiles fully, your voice was the one that he could hear as he fought through the rift.

- Hitting the Ghost Rider that was about to kill Stiles with your baseball bat.

- You and Stiles sharing a passionate kiss, holding each other so tightly that you feared the other would break.

- Not letting go of each other's hand as you ran through the school corridors, facing the fake version of his mother.  

- Sharing a secret look at each other on the final day of school before graduation, knowing that after all they'd been through together, nothing could keep them apart now.                           

#datingstilesstilinskiwouldinclude #teenwolf #lmao this took forever #itwasfuntho #stiles x reader #fluff #imagines #oneshots #stiles fluff #angst #stiles x reader fluff

[troubledwanderingspirit]

Me Too

October 15, 2015, it was a Thursday night. I was 21 years old.

We had hung out once or twice before this. These first times we hung out we drank a beer or two, watched movies, talked a little, kissed for the first time, and did some other messing around. I had also revealed to him that I was a virgin and made it clear that I had certain rules about losing my virginity, number 1 being I would only lose it to someone who was my boyfriend. Was this me trying to get him to commit to me, definitely not, I just wanted him to know he was not going to “go all the way” with me. He had just gotten out of a relationship and he just wanted company, I get it, and he made it clear I was not the only girl he was hanging with in an intimate sense, which I was okay with I enjoyed his friendship and company too.  We knew each other pretty well as we had worked together for quite some time, both managers and we were good work buddies, I had actually really enjoyed working with him. Did I have a crush on him? Yes. Had I ever put much thought into it or act on it? No because he had been in a pretty serious relationship for four years, until they broke up. It was messy break-up, it was hard on him, hence why he wanted company I guess. 

So we hang out again. He had left the company we worked for by this time. I had just started my period that day which I had admitted to him I was actually kind of bummed about because I had wanted to mess around more than just making out. Going all the way was still out of the question but I was still curious and willing to explore other bases, I had never experienced any of this (except for making out). Not a problem to him, let’s get in the shower, so we did. This should have been red fucking flag #1. I was fucking stupid, naive, and letting my emotions/attractions get the best of me. Red flag #2, he puts a condom on. “Just in case”, he says in response to the “what do you think you’re going to need that for” look I give him. We mess around in the shower, it was fun, everything was fine. We get out and move to the bed, still completely naked. He puts down a towel, red flag #3. What was I thinking during this? Well I probably shouldn’t kill the mood by going and putting on underwear and tampons and pads and shit right now, but I fucking should have. See you don’t need to victim blame, we can do that all by ourselves. We continue making out. “Do you want to?” “No, you know my rule” He tries to push it in the littlest bit. I put my hand on his chest and push him back a little. “How about just the tip, that doesn’t even count.” “No” “C’mon, if you don’t do this it’s gonna hurt so bad.” (Blue balls he was talking about). He pushed in, and again and again and again and so on. My hand still placed on his chest, no longer pushing. I gave up. Is giving up giving consent? The fucking answer is NO it is NOT fucking giving consent. Why didn’t I fight back, push him off, get dressed and just leave? It was something I would later on learn is called the freeze response. He finishes. I’m trying to process what just happened, (I wouldn’t really until about 2 months later). He gets up, “are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine, just breathless”, I try to joke. I need to get out of there. He sits up, starting to put on his clothes. “I’ll try not to feel too bad about that.” What he means by this I’m not exactly sure. I rush out of there, giving him the excuse it was way past my curfew. The second I get in my car I break down completely. I drive home around 2am on the freeway almost maxing out my car at 100mph, screaming “No” the whole way and crying. I still lived with my parents, so I get home and luckily get some sleep, having exhausted myself from the screaming and crying. I wake up. 

I would eventually come to realize that I had tried to convince myself it was fine. I wanted it, I put myself in that situation, it was fine, it was definitely not rape. But it was. Trying to falsify the real situation in my head was my first defense mechanism. I even texted him the next morning saying something like “I had fun last night, can’t wait to hang out again.” I told my friends. “It just happened” “It’s kind of a relief that I’m not a virgin anymore.” But it wasn’t. We did hang out again, and we did have sex again, that time consensual. Why? I’m not sure. I think I was trying to relive and re-take control of what had happened and continue my “its okay, I wanted this” fantasy. But it wasn’t. I could only try to hide and attempt to normalize for so long. About two months after, I faced the truth, I had been raped. But what now what? How could I have started singing a different song when I told myself and all my friends a completely different story. I never told my parents and never will, both for their sake and my own, I can only guess their reactions but I don’t think any of them would have been helpful to me. I did eventually try to tell some of my closer friends what had actually happened, but it’s hard to explain especially in person. Some listened and were there for me, some brushed it off, some didn’t seem to believe me or care. I knew this was something I would have to overcome and deal with somewhat on my own. And for the most part I have. I was fucked up before this happened, having been diagnosed with depression three years before. I had learned how to manage things for the most part, give or take a self harm relapse here and there.

So he eventually ends up in a relationship, also about two months later. They kind of have a rough start, she cheated on him early on. He texts me one day looking for some support. I go off on him, tell him not to talk to me, tell him how that night really was for me. His view or side of the story or whatever? “Oh I’m sorry if there was some miscommunication.” Miscommunication, LOL, sure you call it that if that’s what helps you sleep at night. That argument didn’t end well and we stopped talking. I of course unfollowed and unfriended him from all social media but it was impossible to completely distance myself given that many of my coworkers were and still are friends with him and boy does news travel fast in that workplace of any goings ons with anyone. That was some time in January 2016. Months later in the summer of 2016 he and the same girl who had cheated on him were still together. He texts me one night, saying he misses me and wished I was I there to cuddle with him. “Shouldn't your girlfriend be doing that?” I respond. I don’t hear back. I go off on him the next morning, and he apologized saying he felt ashamed and immediately turned off his phone after I called him out. He ends up marrying the girl, and apparently they are still together. Happy or not, don’t know don’t fucking care. I haven’t talked to him since. 

Unfortunately that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen him pop up on other co-workers/friend’s social media feeds every once in a while. He even tried to follow me on instagram about a month ago (thought I had you blocked already but we can take care of that now I guess). That night is something that I think about at least once every single day, and I wish that was an exaggeration. Most days I can push the thoughts, the memory, the flashbacks, the nightmares, the disorientation, the anxiety/panic attacks, away. Most days but not all. 

So why am I sharing this story now, years later? I don’t know. Some days it’s just really fucking hard to deal with. Especially when I’m so often reminded of it. With movements like #metoo, #whyididntreport, and the media exposing multiple sexual assault cases it’s hard to avoid the subject. Not that these movements are bad by any means but I’m sure I’m not the only one where sometimes it just reminds me of my own situation, something I don’t need reminding of. And I realize that my case is “minor” for lack of a better word and it could have been a lot worse, but it doesn’t change the fact that I had something taken from me that I can never get back and without my consent. 

There is hope though, this story isn’t completely without a happy ending. I have a small circle of really great and close friends. I have an amazing best friend who I’ve known for 16 years and honestly I don’t where I would be today without her. I have a boyfriend who has shown me the selfless love that I thought only existed on TV. I have a good family. I have excelled at all my jobs and in art school. I’ve had amazing experiences and adventures. I’m not completely tragic, even though I do feel like I am sometimes. I have my shit together, for the most part...

However, today was one of those days he popped up on my instagram feed in a friend’s post, two different posts from two different people actually. It’s not their fault, I don’t think they have any idea. But today was one of those days I couldn’t push the thoughts out of my mind, especially when I have so much time to think on my long drives to and from work, school, home, etc. I had always thought about posting my story here, where I remain anonymous for the most part. I’m not even sure how many of my few followers are still active. This could easily be a shout into the void but I had to shout somewhere, to get it out of me somehow. Did it help? Somewhat? I’m not sure. I just feel numb at the moment I guess, which is better than I was an hour ago crying on the way home from work? I don’t know, sometimes it’s just really fucking hard.

[inkofamethyst]

November 3, 2018

I have a friend who rants to me when she is upset.  I don’t know if I am the only person she rants to (to whom she rants, whatever).  She could text other people too, I don’t know.  We don’t actually see each other often, and I rarely start conversations with her, though I do engage with her if she begins conversations.  We never had a falling-out or anything, I was just afraid that the friendship between us was a lot more work than I needed, and very one-sided as far as who was giving/needing support.  She was nice and all, but she had a lot of problems, and it was really bringing me down.  I learned her routine: text one vague question, wait for my answer, jump into an explanation of her situation (usually dealing with her relationship with her parents), express confusion at what her next steps should be because everything she tries seems to only make the situation worse.  Now, I’m not a therapist, and I felt like she definitely needed a therapist.  I’m totally willing to talk to people and listen to them and be the shoulder they need, but if our relationship only consists of you telling me your problems, I feel like a punching-bag for your emotions.  She was feeling so bad one day that I literally had to take her to a counselor (councilor?) to talk because I was not about to be the end of someone’s relationship with their parents and her issue was way out of my league and honestly I felt unequipped and too tired to handle it.  A relationship consists of shared highs and lows.  Yeah, I get it, you can trust me.  But when I feel weary anytime I see your name on a notification on my phone, that’s an issue.  I am a teenager, figuring things out at the same time you are.  My experience is limited to these few sheltered years of life I’ve had on this earth.  

Now, let me say, it’s gotten better.  You seem to be handling yourself better, and we have a better balance of highs and lows.  But there is still that residual eyeroll whenever I see your name, and I’m sorry for that, but it’s true.  And when I say “balance” I mean balance on your side.  I still don’t initiate conversation (with anyone really because I’m afraid of appearing to be needy and I’d hate to waste someone’s time) but at least you’re not texting me with problems only.  Sometimes I feel like a bad person, like I’m leading you on.  But it’s not like I want to stop being friends, necessarily, I just don’t want to feel down after every single conversation I have with you, you know?  Is this something I communicate to you, or do I just hold it in, as I have been for a year or two now.

I can’t have you finding this blog.  I will not lie to anyone who asks whether I have a Tumblr, but I will not give anyone my username.  I will tell them what is here and that it is personal and that I will not prevent them from trying to find it but I will not help them.  I do not tag my posts.  I still don’t completely understand Tumblr, after being influenced by it for six or seven years now.  It has always been that social media platform that was too cool for me.  Now that my goal is not to gain followers, I feel calmer and more comfortable with a blog.  You cannot find this blog.  I cannot let you find what I have hidden.

When you, my troubled-friend (hmm, pretty bad nickname, I’ll work on it), ranted to me this morning, it made me wonder, who do I rant to (to whom do I rant... I can’t stop myself, ugh)?  And, let’s be honest, I rant to this blog.  This blog which is probably a representation of a prayer is one of my catharses (catharsi? catharsises?).  I don’t think it’s the same as talking to a human being.  It’s me screaming into the void.  But silent screams.  I need one real scream.  Oh, God, I want to scream until I’m hoarse for a solid twenty-minutes and just pass out from vocal and physical exhaustion.  

I think I’ve suggested my sadness to people.  When people ask how I am, my default response is “tired” now.  I do have to keep myself from making jokes/saying things sarcastically that would give me completely away.  Like I said in a previous post, I can’t have people pitying me all the time.

It’s become a thing for people to say “Nina, I love you,” primarily platonically.  My default response is “Tell me why.”  That makes them stumble.  It’s a bit of a power-play, that command, I’ll admit.  But it reinforces my idea that we throw around the word “Love” way too much.  Tell me I’m awesome, or anything else, but don’t say you love me until you can tell me one reason why.  I’m not here for superficial love.  Love me deeply and profoundly or at least for one reason or another.  Now I recognize that Love is an emotion that is sometimes unexplainable.  That’s fine, say that you can’t explain it.  Say it’s something in your gut, your chest, your head.  Say it’s everything that surrounds me (even though I know that you only see my life from the outside and not for the mess that it is) or my essence.  I’m not being conceited, I swear.  I just really feel strongly about love.

Instead of giving thanks, I’m going to tell why I love certain people.  I love my sister because she is quick-witted and often able to make me laugh.  I love my mother because she listens and because she pulls me out of my funks with a metaphorical slap to the face.  I love my father because he is goofy in a world that is to serious and willing to talk ideas out with his daughter whenever she is confused.  I love my dancer-friend because she is incredibly profound and intelligent and passionate, and from what I see from the outside she is confident in her abilities and I love that air that surrounds her.  I love my DnD-friend because she’s super multi-talented with her music and her languages and super geeky and incredibly animated and it’s so refreshing to be around someone who doesn’t hold themselves back.  I love my Beyonce-friend because he’s invested in DC Comics, one of his loves, and to see him talk about this universe, this passion, is electric.  I love my basoon-friend (I don’t remember if I used this name for her previously...) because she is super supportive and puts all of herself into everything that she does, and she does a lot.  These are just examples of reasons that I love these people.  There are more, but these are the ones that are on my mind.  And I don’t tell them this often enough.

I know I’m supposed to end after the thankful bit, but like, I wish I could be like them: profound in thought, multi-talented, passionate, supportive.  They are the best of humanity.  They are who I aspire to be.  They don’t seem to fear failure, but they simply embrace the chance of success.  “RiskLife,” they call it.  They take risks to reap the rewards, and I wish I was not so afraid of failure that I could follow in their footsteps.  Sometimes I wish they knew that, but I also kind of like knowing that this is my secret.  That I appreciate knowing them.  That I think so highly of them.  I wish I wasn’t afraid to reach out to people.  I want to connect with them more, talk to them more, listen to them more.  I know that I would appreciate others telling me that I’ve been on their mind.  That’s the paradox of adolescence: we think that we are alone while hoping that everyone is the same as us.  A weird commonality.

Thank you, my friends.

This wasn’t supposed to be a long post.  I was supposed to go to bed early.  Goodnight.

[taegdcl1018]

3 Billion Dollars [Part 3] - G Dragon Mafia!AU

Summary: When your father owes 3 billion dollars to the mafia, he must repay his debt. Although things don’t go exactly the way he hoped.

Genre: dis one be angst

Warnings: this does mention violence and contains swearing just so you know

{part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4} {part 5} {part 6} {part 7} {part 8} {part 9} {part 10} {part 11} {part 12} {part 13} {part 14} {part 15} {part 16} {part 17} {part 18} {part 19} {part 20} {part 21} {part 22} {part 23}

A/N: Okay so this one gets a little intence. I hope you guys like it. Sorry for the slow updates, school work takes up most of my time. Like always requests are open, and I love hearing feedback. 

P.S. this gif kills me

not my gif 

~Admin Brooklyn

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Eight Years Later

College took way longer than expected. Coming back home from college was hard. Everything seemed different. It didn’t mean that you didn’t visit while you were in college, but everything seemed to change from the last time you visited. Everything had this scary calm tone to it. Mornings were good, comforting and warm, but calm. Usually (Y/B/N) would have some exciting news, but not now. Now he just sat quietly, staring at your dad. Your dad was quiet, which wasn’t unusual, but he seemed sad and depressed, which was different. Your mother also seemed down, although she hid it. It was the calm before the storm.

You were in your room when everything started. Night had already fallen and you were working on your job resume. Music was playing out of our small speaker, just like it normally would. Everything else in your house was quiet, though. Your parents were downstairs, and they didn’t seem to make any noise, neither did your brother who was in his room. You didn’t mind how quiet it was. You were too busy working anyways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your parents froze as a knock sounded against the front door. Your father walked towards the door. He carefully eyed the staircase for any sign of you or your brother. A sigh left his lips as he swung open the door. Mr. Kwon stood on the other side, with his spitting image right behind him. Ji Yong had a hard gaze on his face. No emotion was shown, unlike his father who clearly showed his amusement at your father's anxiety. Men in black clothing surrounded them once again, just like the first time they met.

Mr. Kwon stepped into the house, inviting himself and the rest of his crew in. Ji Yong followed his footsteps, then the rest of the men. Someone had quietly shut the door. Your mother was hiding in the kitchen, sending more than her fair share of fearful dirty looks. Mr. Kwon smirked at your mother, then turned to your father. “We both know why we’re here.”

Your mother glared at Ji Yong, but he was looking straight at your father. His face was void of emotions. He was struggling to keep his mind in check, though. His father chuckled as nobody moved. Your father was struggling to keep eye contact with Mr. Kwon, but he tried his best. Mr. Kwon’s smirk never left his face, even as he spoke. “Don’t be so sad. I’m just here to take what’s mine. Well, my what’s gonna be my son’s. Oh, and I’m here to let you know that you fucked up your end of the deal. Now I gotta fix that.”

“What do you mean we didn’t stick with the deal?” Your mother spits at him. Mr. Kwon finally smiled, although it held more sinister emotions than the smirk did. Mr. Kwon stalked towards the kitchen, the men following suit. Ji Yong stayed, watching the stairs intently, almost waiting for you to come down and hug him. Two men had stayed with him. The taller of the two went up to him and put his hand on Ji Yong’s shoulder, snapping him out of his daze. Ji Yong looked towards his father. Mr. Kwon was waiting patiently for him to catch up, while your mother glared at him.

“Sweetheart, your husband cost me not only a shit ton of money but men and time. The latter two being more valuable the money. The fact that you thought I’m just gonna let that slide is a joke.” His words were sharp, your mother and father froze. Again Mr. Kwon smirked, quickly sliding his hand down to his gun holster on his belt. He took out his gun and smiled sickeningly. “So shall I fix our deal?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You shot up as a gunshot rang throughout the house. You quickly hopped off your bed, leaving your laptop and music still running as your left your room. You stepped out into the hall to find your brother standing outside as well.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, concern lacing your voice. You checked his body quickly for any signs of blood or wounds. He pulled your hands off of him and nodded his head. “Mom and Dad are still downstairs.”

“I know. Stay behind me okay?” You told him. You looked straight into his eyes and waited until he nodded his head. You pulled him behind you as you went down the steps carefully. (Y/B/N) followed suit behind you, sticking close to you. The coast seemed clear, that is until you noticed the kitchen.

Mr. Kwon’s gun wasn’t the first thing that caught your eye. It wasn’t your mother. Nor was it your father, but it was Ji Yong. You seemed to catch his eyes too, but for the first time ever he stared at you without the usual happiness he seemed to carry when he was around you. He seemed more mature and had the same sense of power his father had. A tug from your brother had snapped you back into reality. Mr. Kwon smiled at you, giving you that false reassurance he gave you way back when he first met you. “My, my (Y/N), you really have matured into an independent young lady. Isn’t that right (Y/L/N)?”

“Don’t please.” Your father said. His voice weak. You stared at Ji Yong, fear hidden in your eyes. He stared back, but he didn’t seem to hold any emotions. “Don’t what? You made this deal. You chose this route. Everyone knows too. Everyone but poor (Y/N).”

“Yongie what’s going on?” You asked him. Mr. Kwon turned towards Ji Yong, an amused smile already plastered on his face. Men had already blocked off the only way out of the kitchen. You grabbed (Y/B/N) closer to you, the tension freaking you out. Ji Yong steps closer to you. “I know it’s a lot, but it’ll make sense soon.”

“He’s so sweet to you, (Y/N). I think he’s going soft.” Mr. Kwon teases his son, who only stares at you. You give him a confused look back. Your gaze breaks as (Y/B/N) gets torn away from your grip. You quickly turn to see him being held back by one of the men. It took a minute but you recognized him as Seunghyun. Strong hands are wrapped around your waist, holding you back from your brother. You try to see who’s holding you. You struggle until you see the tattoo on his arm. You look behind you and see Youngbae. He gave you a stone look, just like Ji Yong. You knew Youngbae and Seunghyun from Ji Yong, but that didn’t mean you were close. You had talked to them here and there, a few laughs and smiles shared. Although you didn’t know them well, it was odd seeing both of them here.

“You should tell her (Y/L/N). (Y/N) deserves to know. Don’t you think?” Mr. Kwon smirked at your dad. Your inspection of Youngbae had come to a quick halt as you perked up. Mr. Kwon just smiled as your mother frowned at you. Her apologetic look making you even more concerned. If Mr. Kwon’s smirk could get any bigger, it would. He was loving how your parents were squirming at his commands, yet complying with them. “If anyone in this room deserves to know, she does the most.”

“(Y/N), sweetheart, when you were little, your father made some stupid decisions. One of them included dealing money with the mafia.” Your mother started, only to be cut off by Mr. Kwon raising his hand. He gave your father a deathly look.

“Shouldn’t you explain your mistakes?” Mr. Kwon spit. Your father gave you an apologetic look before glaring at Mr. Kwon. He sighed and looked at the floor. “When you were three, I had withdrawn three billion dollars from the mafia. There wasn’t a way for your mother and I to pay it back in time, and Mr. Kwon had given us in this ultimatum. We either let him take you when you’re old enough, or he would kill us and would’ve taken you then. We didn’t want you to grow up there, so we went with the first option. I’m sorry.”

You were in shock. You leaned into Youngbae, who didn’t seem to mind. Your face had dropped, you couldn’t seem to focus on a single thing. Too many things were happening at once. This couldn’t be real. There is no way in hell this could be real. Your head started to ache. Everything sounded and felt off until you heard your name. Strongs arms held you upright and leaning off of Youngbae. “(Y/N). (Y/N), look at me.”

Looking up you see Ji Yong, his eyes staring at you with concern. He had a softer look to him, genuine concern lacing his eyes. You nodded your head, leaning into him. “Wow, this really must be news to her. You kept everything locked away.”

“You think I’m the only keeping secrets. Your little heir to the throne knew as well. He could’ve said something.” Your father spits at Mr. Kwon. Mr. Kwon raised an eyebrow. He stalked closer to your father, giving him a condescending look. You look up at Ji Yong betrayed. He knew the entire time. He knew what was going to happen. You leaned back into Youngbae, who still supported your weight.

“You honestly don’t know what position you're in do you?” Mr. Kwon’s threat sending chills down your spine. He loomed over your father. “You do realize that you can’t just have another kid when I lost men of my own because you couldn’t compensate what you lost.”

You shot up at his words. Your attention now focused on (Y/B/N). His loss of words and pale face giving away his fear. Mr. Kwon looks at Ji Yong. Ji Yong gravely nodded his head and reached for his gun. You watch him with fear, panic running through you. You pulled against Youngbae’s arms. “Yongie, what are you doing?”

“Princess you might wanna look away.” Mr. Kwon said with a smirk. Ji Yong hesitated before lifting his gun, aiming for your brother. You scream at him.

“YONGIE DON’T. I won’t ever forgive you if you do. I swear.” Mr. Kwon gave him an expectant look, patiently waiting. You thrashed against Youngbae’s hold. Everything stopped as the shot rang out. (Y/B/N) fell limp on the floor, blood pooling out from his stomach. A quiet but deep moan left his mouth before he was completely quiet and still. Blood seeped from his now open mouth.

You stared in horror as blood continued to leave his body. Your mother screamed at Mr. Kwon. She took one step closer towards him, her fist ready to strike, as another shot rang out. She too fell, leaving you shocked. Blood left her head, her body twitching before she finally rested. A ghost of a scream left your lips as you stared in horror. Your father fell to the ground, holding your mother. Sobs wracked his body as Mr. Kwon smirked down at him. Whispers of your mother’s name left his mouth as he cradled her close to his body.

“Thank you for paying back your debts.” He said, his smirk was there, but his voice held a professional tone. Youngbae pushed you toward the door, practically dragging you out of your house. Ji Yong followed behind you, quickly bending down to grab a pair of shoes for you as Youngbae lead you towards a car. You had given up fighting by now, too confused and numb to even try. You were pushed into the backseat of a car, Youngbae joining you soon after, claiming his spot in the middle. He had buckled your seatbelt in and waited for everyone else. Ji Yong sat next to Youngbae, buckled in his seat belt and looked at you carefully. You were staring at the window, tears forming in your eyes, as two more people entered the car. Mr. Kwon, who sat in the passenger seat, and Seunghyun who claimed the driver's seat. You just watched hopelessly as the car started. You heard the sound of the car doors locking. Looking into the rearview mirror you saw Mr. Kwon staring at you, warning you not to run away. The eye contact broke as he started coughing. His little fit lasting for a minute before he could settle down. Ji Yong looked at him with concern, only to get a small nod in return. You quietly sat by the window, watching your house get smaller as you drove away in the night.

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