#and i cant even fucking LEARN how because that costs too much money to try

[meimeikyu]

watching a really long video about how someone made their cosplay and GOD is it interesting but also it makes me feel really bad about my cosplays

[blessedshortcake]

Delete later

I dont know if its the holidays coming up that has me stressing again or just everything piling up in general but its that time of my existence again when i genuinely consider serious harm to get some kind of significant help or care thats more than "just stop worrying"

I cant take school. Im too burnt out and i dont have time to recharge even tho i only have school twice a week. I have no help from my family because asking them for help will either get me forced to live with an unstable household with my sister or in an unstable household with my mother. In both cases shamed and reprihended but in different ways ig so its a pick your poison moment. I cant win

I havent been to class in months. Im terrified. Im failing i dont have enough grades and none of my classmates know me so i cant ask anyone for help. Im terrified if i drop out the gov will make me pay back the child support ive been Literally living off of since i live by myself and wont be hired anywhere because i didnt graduate yet and here you wont be hired without that for like 95% of job spaces. Youre either a student working or have your diploma or you dont exist at all

I gave up hobbies that cost money ive been doing my best to eat whatevers home so i dont spend extra money ordering in but i just dont have the energy to do this anymore. I want a job. I want a job so bad i want to be done with school i cant do school we literally have ptsd from school and no support from anyone around like family or teachers. I cant apply for therapy again because theres a 6 month waitlist and by then its fucking summer (probably) and even then it takes at least a year to start getting any diagnosis and i never managed to hold down a therapist for long enough. They dont take you seriously here in their eyes we were always just lazy or a little sad or haha teenage anxiety

We cant enter a school building without bordering an anxiety attack even if its just for like an art show or any non education related reasons. We cant learn due to alter to alter amnesia (OSDD i almost never talk about it on here but yea hi system here this is Hell) because in classes we either dissociate too bad due to the panic it causes us to just Be behind a desk taking notes with people to actually remember what we wrote if we did write anything and then if you learn anything at home theres a 10% chance youre gonna be the guy at front to take the test because, again, fear.

What the hell am i meant to do when i feel like the best option here is to either blind myself so i get to be excused since id have to restart my life pretty much or try and pretend i was hit by a car on accident because i cant sign into a ward here. I cant call a crisis hotline like "yea i wanna die it sucks ass here" because my family will again either force me to live with someone mentioned above or kick me out and then what. I cant do this im not gonna do anything harsh that could end me like thats not what im saying here im just frustrated and scared and sad about how hopeless this all feels like

[cripple-cat]

More Axton (And Zer0) Headcanons (More Drabbles At This Point) Because I Fucking Want To

to quote my own father about himself axton is "a masochist at everyones expense" it just doesnt actually benefit anyone like kriegs masochism does

he makes himself a human shield and then gets confused and laughs when his teammates get mad at him for nearly dying and actually dying all the fucking time

he doesnt even NEED to do that his turret has a SHIELD we can just HIDE WITH YOUR TURRET AXTON STOP

he just hates seeing his friends get hurt and doesnt see the problem with dying if hes just going to respawn anyway, even if it costs money

its the closest he can get to actually dying without any of them questioning it but sometimes he wants them to

in their early days together he got into a mild but very frustrating argument with maya that split their team into two sides

no one can remember what it was about except zer0 and they wont tell anyone because it was stupid

but they got really irritated with axton and decided if they were ever going to make it to jack to kill him they would need to rid themself of irritants, including axton

and they sprung up, grabbed him by the front of his uniform, and pressed the sharp edge of the digistruct sword to his throat

he has since jacked off to that particular instance far too many times

he often fantasizes other ways they could kill him or control him and jacks off to those too

he has yet to share this with anyone

he loves zer0 though and loves that they hold his hand now instead of feeling the need to threaten him or straight up kill him

consent and all that, very important

after zer0 gave him the very smooth rock he started giving them all the best guns he could get his hands on

sometimes hell find a shiny piece of shrapnel and give that to them

sometimes hell find something squishy and sneak it into their hand when they go to hold hands with him

its the best way to make them uncomfortable while also showing them he loves them without having to say it

they always give him their heart emoticon after anyway

"hey can you hold this for me"

'...'

*stifled laughter* "perfect, ze"

'<3'

its super cute and super stupid and he likes to make them happy with the way he irritates them

its a love language and i will die on this hill thank you very much

he once managed to catch a glimpse of them drinking a glass of water

it was through some form of straw extended from their mask and he couldnt figure out where it came from

he saw them drinking just long enough to watch them retract the straw into their mask without using their hands

he has not been the same since

everyone has questions about zer0s anatomy, hes no exception, but he honestly just wants to know what the fuck is uo with that straw

is it a part of the suit? is it a part of their face?? what the fuck is it??? why do they have it there?

he always forgets to ask though and its super annoying

hes really really good at poker, but only when hes drunk

he cant play poker for shit when hes sober

he found out the hard way though that he has absolutely no chance ever of beating krieg at any card game

or really any game

for someone whos literally psychologically scarred and cracked and fucked up pretty much beyond repair hes really good with numbers and reading people

it would be funnier if axton werent terrified of it

its like krieg just knows things

maya doesnt seem put off by it but axton sure is, its spooky

he earned the privilege of high-fiving maya after a good fight, and now he does it after almost every fight

he likes high-fives and she gives the best ones

crisp and tingly but not weak and small-handed or heavy and crushing

he likes watching her move sometimes, he can definitely tell shes not a soldier

her motion is crude but graceful, like a dancer trying to box, but a lot more melt-your-face-off

hes never been to athenas but he wonders if everyone there fights like that, or if she learned to fight like that because no one there knows how to fight at all

he never asks, she doesnt care for talking about where she came from

he doesnt talk about sarah much either, so he understands

he still mentions her in passing from time to time, when shes relevant or hes feeling regretful of what he did to her

he knows he wasnt a good husband or soldier, and somewhere deep down he knows they werent really good for each other, but he still tried to be

and he knows that even as she was breaking it off, even as she was telling him he wasnt a soldier anymore, she still loved him

she gave him the idea to leave, she gave him the chance to, she gave him the dignity of choice

he still loves her, but its different now

its not like the romance he felt when they were dating, or when they were first married, or in the early months of their marriage

he loves her like shes an old friend hed get drinks with and catch up with over lunch, but never intentionally contact, despite being willing to do anything for her if she asked now

he wants to apologize, but he cant contact her anymore, and sometimes that hurts more than the idea that she might have let him be executed had he stayed

It sucks, but life doesnt wait for you to get your shit together, so he accepts it and moves on to the best of his ability

that part of his life is over now, hes got newer, better things to do and be and look forward to

like his new team, his new leaders, his new zer0

he really does love them, he just cant figure out how that works

he married someone else and loved her, they divorced, he doesnt love her the same way he did, now he loves someone else differently, too

its different, but its better, its so much better

their arguments are petty and friendly or about things that dont really matter in the end

and theyre accepting of the lifestyles they have, despite the differences, instead of arguing over never seeing each other or seeing too much of each other

everything about each other is taken as is and its so much better this way

he never had that safety with sarah

but he has it now

[featherfur]

I’m going to try and make sense with this so bear with me: I think a lot of untapped angst potential in fic is the reality of Jiang Cheng being the older one now and visibly more mature because Wei Wuxian died at 20? 19? And he wasn’t exactly maturing in the ghost realm during that considering he doesn’t remember it. Now he’s definitely matured via trauma but that’s not the same thing. And now they’re 16x on the wrong wave length.

Under the read more because uh, I go into detail

Now put Jiang Cheng in the same room as Wei Wuxian and they’re both 12, atleast in the beginning. But Jiang Cheng had his previously homicidal insane brother show up right next to his nephew after insulting his mom (who’s death he inadvertently led too) so JC (for me atleast) can be forgiven a bit for not being happy and wanting to kick his ass and thinking he may still be insane because an Okay Wei Wuxian Would Not Insult Shijie or His Nephew. Especially since JC not only didn’t tell the entire world that his brother was back, left him with Jin Ling, only yelled at him a bit and scared him via dog and— (I’m going to shut up here because that isn’t my point but man I could go on). JC had a lot of issues and he yells at Wei Wuxian to the point one wants to offer him a cough drop.

But post Temple JC? Who watched him walk away sadly and knows that Wei Wuxian is no longer unstable and thinks he doesn’t want to be his brother anymore? That’s so much wonderful angst because that means Wei Wuxian will not be greeted by Jiang Cheng his Shidi anymore.

He will be met with Sect Leader Jiang who clawed his way up from nothing but a baby in his right, a stack of spreadsheets on his left and the most feral disciples around that he has to protect. This Sect Leader who doesn’t have time to go around hunting Wei Wuxian down to harass him. Sect Leader Jiang who barely even greets Wei Wuxian when he visits because he has shit to do. He has audits and taxes and those damn merchants are complaining, he has to up the wages of the seamstresses that make the robes of his sect with so many protection talismans and find a way to convince Sect Leader Ouyang to stop fine-ing the caravans that deliver the goods. He has to organize the celebrations and make sure everyone’s safe during flooding season. That’s not even counting how he has to train and monitor his disciples and night hunts and the political hellscape!

But Wei Wuxian!! He doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know everything that Jiang Cheng has been taking care of or that he’s just seriously that busy. He thinks he’s being ignored and pushed away and mocked when Jiang Cheng walks by with a quick “Master Wei” and runs off! Because how could Jiang Cheng treat him like that when Wei Wuxian is clearly trying to reconnect. Every offer of night hunting his declined unless it was planned then already and when they do get together Jiang Cheng ignores him! Why is Wei Wuxian even trying!? What’s the point of Jiang Cheng can’t stand him but why can’t he stop trying either??

Meanwhile during those hunts Jiang Cheng is trying to keep an eye on his brother, his twelve disciples, Jin Ling and his entourage, Wei Wuxian’s Lan ducklings, that random Ouyang kid who apparently imprinted on Jin Ling, figure out what they’re hunting, mentally running the math for the cost of the inns for all of them, going through each of the attending Jiang disciples’ personal likes and deciding on whether to buy their favorite snacks or something else as a ‘thank you for not dying’ as has become accidental custom, trying to figure out if it’s weird to get Jin Ling and his friends something nice (CLEARLY he has to get the Ouyang kid something, he apparently has no other friends considering how often he’s just hanging around Lotus pier whenever Jin Ling swings by), and trying to think of he has any other disciples night hunting within a 50 mile radius he should fly out to check on before he sleeps!

Clearly Wei Wuxian just doesn’t care about the Jiang sect and wants to just be annoying but Jiang Cheng is busy! Cant he see that Jiang Cheng is only available on Mondays and Tuesdays during the odd months and Wednesday through Saturday on the even? It’s very clear when Jiang Cheng has time! Why can’t his brother just respect that not everyone has the free time to do whatever the hell they want? Is he flaunting it?!? How dare he!

It’s a giant mess and it only gets worse because Jiang Cheng is diplomatic, he knows how to bow his head when he’s overpowered (though he rarely is nowadays) or when the outcome isn’t worth it. So he doesn’t want to start a fight with Lan Wangji and from there the entire Lan Sect! He’s been holding his tongue for years he can keep doing it, especially if his brother’s happiness is on the line. He can ignore Lan Wangji being rude, he can ignore the dark looks, hell if he thinks Wei Wuxian’s position is threatened at the LAN’s he’ll even play real fucking nice so that Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen won’t do anything to his brother. He did it for Yanli he’ll do it now. (Also added bonus of now Sizhui has started to warm up to him and so he has to be extra polite so his new nephew doesn’t hate him and his free nephew [Jingyi] doesn’t light a building on fire in revenge for someone looking at Hanguang-Jun wrong). He might have snapped at Hanguang-Jun when shit was going down but now Lan Xichen is in seclusion and Jiang Cheng can’t piss odd Lan Wangji no matter how much he wants to chuck a beehive at his head

But Wei Wuxian doesn’t it take it that way! He just sees his brother suddenly calling him Master Wei and won’t interact with him during meetings or before or after and he’s acting so cold towards Lan Zhan! He’s staring right through his brother in law and keeps acting like he doesn’t exist and the only time in the last month Jiang Cheng sought him out was!! To ask!! If he!! COULD HIRE WEI WUXIAN?!? NOT EVEN TO SAY HI OR CHECK ON HIM OR FINALLY ANSWER HIS LETTERS BUT TO ASK HIM TO CREATE TALISMANS FOR THEIR CLOTHES! (Of course he said yes though because hey money and it’s actually fun chatting with the seamstresses) but that’s all his shidi cares about?? What Wei Wuxian can do for him? He doesn’t care about Wei Wuxian at all! Why does Jiang Cheng keep hating him, he thought they were atleast neutral but he keeps going further and further away!!! Wei Wuxian is hurting and his little brother wants nothing to do with him!

Neither of them are IN the wrong but they’re both wrong.

It takes until someone, probably Lan Xichen or Nie Huiasang, points out that “Wei Wuxian… He’s not your shidi anymore, he’s your Sect Leader well a Sect Leader… he’s a Sect Leader to one of the biggest Sects, he’s busy it’s tax season. I wouldn’t want to interact with anyone either.”

Meanwhile Jin Ling or a random slightly more insane then the rest Jiang disciple interrupts Jiang Cheng’s lunch to go “Okay you’re making this worse on literally everyone, Wei Wuxian is clearly trying to make this work why are you being mean? He’s trying!” (Or much more polite for the disciple)

They have to meet up and actually talk things through and honestly *that* only works because Lan Xichen grabs them both by their metaphorical ears and sits them down because “I would like my brother in law, both of them, to stop crying to me because they can’t talk. So now we’re going to learn to communicate and if either of you makes this weird I WILL just start fluting my way out of it and you’ll feel bad.” (Actually he just sits them down together while and he and Jiang Cheng have to go over payments for the next batch of trades and Wei Wuxian passes out on Jiang Cheng halfway through and when he wakes up he swears to never bother him on a work day because that was the worst moment of his life and they end up repairing enough to start the trek to being brothers again

[mightymorphingayagenda]

cant wait for lethal combination chapter 5! and loved the holiday nessian fic you wrote!

then you shan’t have to wait! and thank you so much, nonnie. the fic they’re talking about and all previous chapters of lethal combo can be found here,  x

“Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.” 

Nesta kept her gaze on the wall of oak opposite her.  

“Is this the part where I tell you to get on your knees for me?” She asked.  

Humourless. 

And she could practically feel the feral rage radiating from him. Bleeding through the grate to her left like he were trying to smoke her out.  

“This is the part where you-“ 

“Shhh.” 

A lean shadow, a head of auburn hair, muted in the darkness like the decayed verdure of autumn, barely distinguishable through the latticed window no bigger than her hand.  

She’d made Eris wait almost a day.  

In Nesta’s experience teenage girls understood psychological warfare better than any CIA types she’d met. And rule one in the handbook was never call him back right away.  

Eris might as well have been a cute boy from home room, the advice stood fast.  

She’d also chosen the time and place for their meeting, giving no concessions in authority. Picking the church as unlike her he’d inherited both the egregious wealth of his family and their faith. Irish Catholic. Meaning he’d find himself here every Sunday evening regardless, and providing not only the guise of normality, but the cosy anonymity of a confessional.  

The only people who did secrecy better than assassins, were the Catholics.  

It was perfect really, the perfect plan. Undistracted Nesta had been able to work it out pretty quickly after Cassian had left. Leaving her all those hours between four in the morning and her meeting the following evening with nothing to do but hate him.  

Avoiding returning to the bed he’d screwed her in. Glaring at his jacket which still hung beside her front door over a bottle of vodka.  

It was a blow to her pride to be sure. The closest thing to rejection she’d ever received from a man. Whatsmore, some gooey part of her she’d pushed down had been upset.  

Too worked up to sleep she’d spent hours tucked into her armchair and entertaining plucking his teeth from his mouth like the petals of a rose. He loves me, he loves me not. Because worse than revealing himself to be a complete ass as most men did, Cassian had done so subsequent to fucking her better than she could have dreamed. And she’d had that dream. Multiple times.  

Wet dreams that couldn’t hold a candle to the way he’d had her dripping down to her knees, begging for his cock, trembling on legs he’d thrown over his shoulder to lick out her cunt like it was the reason he got out of bed in the morning. The man had spoilt her rotten.  

Nesta knew she probably shouldn’t have been thinking about sex in a church. Her mother was likely burning with a fury hotter than the flames that surrounded her down below, but she couldn’t help it. Because while she hated the sinner- ever bronze buffed, tattooed inch of him - god did she love the sin.  

“The adult is going to talk,” she said quietly. “If you want to throw a tantrum you can do it on your own time because as of this moment, I’m officially off the clock.”  

Eris’ silence said he knew better than to interrupt her. Perhaps he was smarter than she was about to give him credit for.  

“In fact I stopped working for you as of the moment you chose to question my methods and profess concerns that I may have jeopardised our venture because I lack the professionalism to keep my legs shut,” she said.  

“So if you want Helion Day neutralised, you’re going to have to find someone else to do the job. Though I seriously doubt you’ll be able to.” 

Cue phase two of the plan.  

Because she may have hated Cassian, but she wanted the monopoly on causing him emotional anguish.  

Like hell some other pro was going to put a bullet between Helion’s eyes and devastate his bodyguard. Making that man cry was Nesta’s prerogative. 

“I have made it clear to anyone in my field you might attempt to solicit that you are a impertinent, trust fund brat, who insists on micromanaging the work of other’s despite your incompetence in an attempt to feel important beyond the breeding mummy lied and told you made you special.” 

“I wasn’t aware you also specialised in character assassination.” 

Eris’ voice was charred with a sweetness like wealth; earthy and rich it reminded Nesta of muscovado sugar.  

He was right. She was being unprofessional. But she was tired and hungover and out of a gorgeous lay so fuck him.  

“My specialities are no longer any of your business, Mr Vanserra,” she replied. “My displeasure however, should be of great concern to you.”  

“Is that a threat?” 

“I wouldn’t do you the courtesy of warning you if I intended to kill you.” 

Eris said nothing.  

“You can consider it incentive if it helps you sleep at night though,” Nesta continued.  “To do as you’re told.” 

She gave him strict instructions.  Wait five minutes then leave. Never contact me.  Forget we were ever in correspondence in the first place.   

“Murder is cheap, Mr Vanserra. You don’t want to learn the cost of disobeying me. It’s not the kind of thing daddy’s wallet can cover.” 

She emerged from the confessional, slim shades obscuring her eyes and the deep bruises beneath. Her heels clipping against the stone floor as she made her way toward the station of votive candles at the back of the church.  

Each glowing stick a prayer for a lost loved one. Matches and and a few unlit offerings still available.  

She lit herself a cigarette on a flame.  

And Nesta couldn’t have missed the fresco above those colossal doors of oak and rustic gold flake even through the plumes of smoke that curled upwards as she stalked lazily down the isle:  a depiction of the Heavenly Father himself.  

She didn’t bother flicking a glance behind her to the confessional.  

Who’s your daddy, now?  

- 

She’d collapsed face down into already rumpled sheets.  

They’d smelled like sex and heaven and she’d smelt like cigarettes and a church and that was all she knew before the exhaustion caught up with her, the world went black, and she was waking up in exactly the same position . Vex’s fluffy tail swishing against her ear. The tickling sensation plucking her from the bliss of pure nothingness.  

Nesta groaned a little as she rolled over and pulled herself to sit up. Pleased to find she’d had the energy to take off her clothes. Unlike her makeup.  

“Damn it,”  she hissed as she saw the smudged mascara on the pillow.  

Not that the sheets didn’t need washing anyway… 

“Ugh,” she huffed, dropping flat onto her back again.  

She’d been awake less then seven seconds and a man had already ruined her day. Just thinking about him…  

“Ugh,” she said again, louder.  Like she was angry with the ceiling for not acknowledging her the first time. 

Vex meowed, his little head nudging at her bare arm. As though he were trying to coax her bra strap back up to a respectable position on her shoulder.  

“Hi, baby,” she grumbled, picking him up for a cuddle. “You hungry?” 

He meowed again.  

Padding down to the kitchen she’d made them both breakfast (technically lunch, she’d slept in till almost one) and carrying her plate of fruit back upstairs to draw a bubble bath he winded between her ankles, catching her attention as he hissed at something in the living room.  

“What?” she inquired, looking down at him before tilting her head to follow his own.  

Cassian’s jacket.  

Uhg.  

Now she was thinking about him again.  

Childish, dumb, insecure little prick. How he’d had the fucking nerve to call her a coward was truly a mystery.  

He was so crippled by that fear of not being good enough he’d immediately presumed she wanted rid of him. Lashing out defensively- God he was infuriating.  

She looked back to Vex who was now staring up at her. “If that thing somehow ends up on the floor,” she said, “you have permission to piss on it”. 

He purred.  

Vex truly was the only boy worth his salt. Something he proved yet again in hopping atop her bathroom counter and guarding her like a fluffy little gargoyle as she sank into the bath.  Opening m the window to let out the smoke of her cigarette so as not to bother him.  The sound of rain slipping something comforting through the January chill, twirls of smoke and steam visible in fatigued plumes.  

Another lethal habit she’d picked up from Aunt Ripleigh.  

The thought gave her an unpleasant feeling in her heart. Like a worm writhing in the rotted meat of an apple.  

Ripleigh wasn’t actually her aunt. But Nesta avoided her much like she did the rest of her family and that was what really counted. Besides, spilling blood together arguably made for a closer bond than just sharing it.  

Like Nesta said, not really her aunt.  

Aunt Ripleigh – initials AR, an homage to the assassin’s preferred weapon the AR-47, American hybrid of the Russian Автома́т Кала́шников, A.K.A the AK-47.  

Some mothers left their little girls pearls, or scrapbooks packed with baby pictures and the lingering scent of their perfume. Angelina Archeron had left her’s a Mafia assassin’s cell number.  

Of course Nesta hadn’t known that.  

Not until she’d found herself with her hands caked in something dark and sticky, her boyfriend’s skin stuffed beneath the lip of her nails and a taste in her mouth like hot rust.  

She’d been seventeen the first time she’d killed a man.  

Not a man. A boy.  

A few months her senior, Thomas been a child just like her.  

Her first crush. Her first boyfriend, her first love, and her first.  

Nesta had known Thomas was using her for sex.  Just as she’d been using him for his money, and wasn’t that what love was? Finding the gratification of your needs in someone else? In Thomas’s case he’d needed to get his dick wet.  In Nesta’s…it was more than embarrassing but half the time all she’d needed was a hot meal.  

She couldn’t count the number of times she’d called him in the dead of the night to hook up in his Porsche so she could sleep there instead of at home, where the windows screamed freezing air from their shattered mouths and the electricity bill was rarely paid.  

But one night Nesta hadn’t felt like earning his kindness. And so he hadn’t offered it. 

Instead he’d held her wrists, ripped at her shirt, forced his hands into her jeans. Pushed up against the bonnet of that Porsche by a lake in woods she’d torn through his face, her nails splitting through the waterline beneath his eyes as she’d kicked and screamed, blood pouring, his hand on her neck, throwing her head against the wing mirror. Heat spilling heavy down her jaw and neck from somewhere which had smelt like lose change.  

She remembers blood in her eyes and the taste of soft, smooth skin and a kind of rubbery strength between her teeth as she’d bit down hard until something had popped or burst or split with a squirt or a tear. She remembers spitting out whatever of Thomas’s ear she’d torn off between her teeth and something swinging into her lower ribs so hard one broke. She remembers the sounds that had been both of them and then at some point just her. 

Her screaming.  

Her sticky, disgusting face, stinging with every horribly wet sob and shriek. The shrieks that hadn’t choked to shaky breaths until she’d pulled herself to sit back against the wheel of the car. Clutching at her ribs which had only hurt so much worse when she’d thrown up right next to her boyfriend’s body.  What looked like a pint of blood glowing in the dust. His face…his head.  

It’d looked like a Halloween prop. Like dark jam. Like a brutalised seventeen year old dead in the dirt.  

And sometime after noticing one of his teeth in the dust, Nesta had realised how fucked she was.  

It wasn’t much of an achievement when you considered Grafton, Vermont had a population short of seven-hundred: but the Mandrays had been quite possibly the most well connected and well off people in its less than seven-hundred square miles.  And despite keeping Nesta’s name out of their sneering mouths through referring to her almost exclusively as “that white-trash bitch”, that population short of seven hundred didn’t give a shit about her.  

Didn’t give a shit she’d been top of her class with a place at Georgetown. Because Nesta could never have afforded to accept it.   

And it certainly didn’t matter she was a pageant queen when everyone knew the petty cash prizes were the only thing that paid the rent on their shitty one bedroom. Especially with things barely breaking even.  In spite of Feyre’s making use of their father’s rifle and sourcing for the butcher any chance she could.  

A too skinny child in the woods with a gun and blood in her braids.  

Nesta’s efforts to keep food on the table had always seemed to pale in comparison to that. But she’d never felt bad about it. Wouldn’t bother hating herself when everybody else was already doing that for her.  

Nesta Archeron was the cheap fuck that nice Mandray boy was messing around with. The gold digger with the dead commie mom and daddy issues. 

No one would have ever believed he’d tried to rape her.  

And she’d had no money for a decent lawyer- she hadn’t even had anyone to call. Not her dad, not a fourteen-year old Feyre nor Elain, sixteen and the last person she’d ever want wrapped up in something like this.  

Nesta had been desperate and vulnerable and jaded for as long as she could remember but she’d never felt as terrified and broken as she had in that moment. Crying alone and hugging herself tightly, she’d just wanted her mom. As cold and neglectful and dead as the woman was.  

“три три два пять семь девять пять шесть три восемь” 

 Her mother’s last words.  

 Ten numbers.  

 Nesta had somehow gotten to her feet, only realising Thomas had broken a few of her fingers when she’d tried opening the car door.  All but collapsing inside once she’d managed as she’d fumbled for her phone.  

 “три три два пять семь девять пять шесть три восемь” she’d repeated to herself, voice hoarse and wet and cracking as she’d dialled.  

 Ten numbers. Ten numbers. Ten numbers.  

 Like a phone number.  

 No doubt concussed Nesta had deemed it logical enough.  Her mother’s dying breath a kind of atonement for leaving her children with nothing in the whole word but a father that could watch his girls starve and go into the woods with his hunting rifle and whore themselves out like they meant nothing.  

 A life-line in the deep waters opaque with clouds of blood.  

 “Здравствуйте.” 

Those three syllables had been like a punch to the gut.  

Nesta had made a noise that might have sounded like “mom?” or the creaking of a damn as it ached under duress. She’d obviously known it wasn’t her mother, but she hadn’t heard a woman speak Russia since- hadn’t heard Russian at all in years.  

“Who is this?”  

Trying to pull herself together Nesta had taken a breath that had rattled, dripping wet and slightly wheezing. Everything was going to be okay. She’d been right. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. Of all the phone numbers in the world what was the likelihood that the voice on the end of this one spoke her mother’s native tongue?   

“I’m- I’m Angelina Archeron daughter. She gave me this number I don’t know what to do I-” 

The specifics aren’t as clear after that. Like a jigsaw left out in the rain or soaked in fresh hot blood, the pieces, the details, they’d melted to mush.  

 A mess she’d held in her hands and wondered what the fuck to do with.  

What do you do with a dead body and the knew found knowledge your mother was a boyevik for the Russian Mafia? What do you do with her retirement package which contained nothing but the contact for an assassin working for the New York arm.  

Nesta had only known what she wasn’t going to do.  

Go down for murder.  

Aunt Ripleigh had told her what to do over the phone, instructing her on how to deal with her injuries and Thomas’ pulp of a body.  How to explain the state of her face and ribs and fingers and head. What to do with his car and how to speak and sit and and react when then police came asking questions about Thomas’ disappearance. How to get away with it.  

 Nesta had followed each direction flawlessly.  Consoled in finally having a definitive plan. Even a plan that started with “buy meat cleaver, trash bag, battery powered blender and bucket, with cash from dead boyfriend’s wallet.” Even a plan that got progressively worse from that point on.  

 Filleting chunks of a body that had once been inside her. Hauling a trash bag of boyfriend smoothie to the river with broken fingers.  The thick slop sinking almost immediately just as Aunt Ripleigh had said it would. Before she’d told Nesta to burn the bones and roast marshmallows over them.  

 “If it had not been you it would have been next girl,” Ripleigh had said. “And she might not have had your fight.”  

 “You mean she might not have been disturbed enough to kill her boyfriend?” 

 “Killer instincts, Anastasia. Is not disturbed, is talent,” Aunt Ripleigh had said. “Cannot be taught but what can be taught you learn quick. No whining. Like very good puppy with very sharp teeth.” 

 “Woof,” Nesta had said dryly. 

 “Stray puppy though, no? Is why you have no manners.”

 “You offering to adopt me?” 

 “I have pet already. And my husband is funnier than you.” 

Nesta’s compromised rib had punished her for finding that funny.  

 “But you ever want job, you call me.” 

 Needless to say that was not the last time she’d called Aunt Ripleigh.  

 Three weeks later and four months shy of getting her high school diploma Nesta had turned eighteen and moved to New York in order to “pursue modelling”.  

In reality she was doing coffee runs with a dash more arsenic than normal and luring prosecutors to hotel rooms they’d never leave. A personal assistant of sorts to Aunt Ripleigh.  

She had kept the mafia, the Bratva, at an arms length whenever she’d been able. Paying off the shitty house she’d left her sisters in with one less mouth to feed and not wanting their address in any files accessible to people with skill sets like her’s.  

And while working with Ripleigh had been a mortiferous riot, two gals shattering the glass ceiling in their industry and slitting throats with the shards; Nesta had developed expensive taste from the fringes of high criminal society. She’d cared less about the art of killing than she had about the art she could hang up in a penthouse apartment if she were in private practice.  Her lust for comfort winning out after two years or so at which point she’d gone freelance. Assisting in a few heists before getting in with a crowd of Nazi hunters for a bit, all the while keeping in touch with her mentor.  

Until Feyre had moved to the city.  

 Then she’d given up on the more dangerous antics,  selling out for safer and even more lucrative bets like CEOs and cutting ties with Aunt Ripleigh. Terrified if not a little paranoid of something happening to her sister. Which had been shit.  Because Nesta hadn’t had any other friends. Like, at all.  

 At eighteen Feyre was still as bitter and proud as she’d been when Nesta had left. As Nesta herself still was.  

 Elain had tried bridging her sisters’ relationship once she’d moved to New York but she’d had better success career-wise. Working at a florists before eventually graduating to a self employed wedding planner. 

 Nesta had kept her thoughts on the psychological tells of a girl jilted at the alter becoming a wedding planner to herself. Mostly because Elain was always brining her cake samples she’d stolen and Nesta wasn’t going to sabotage her supply of free cake.  

 Feyre on the other hand had gone about far less conventional means of making a living. The child was a force to be reckoned with if for nothing but her resourcefulness and almost objectionable will to survive. Fiercely independent and clumsily capable she’d taken a crack at everything while selling her art on the side. It was a piece she’d modelled for that had delivered her to true economic grandeur however.  

 Well, “modelled” maybe wasn’t the word. Her sister had essentially been used as a human stamp. Her naked body detailed with intricately painted swirls then pressed to canvas.  

 The work had been showcased somewhere high brow and had caught the eye of one Mr Rhysand Velaris, thirty-one and the sole inheritor of his late father’s worldly possessions. Among which were several millions of dollars.  

 Half of which now belonged to her sister thanks to a very reckless prenup on his part.  

 Though Nesta had briefly wondered if he’d spent at least that on the engagement ring.  A glittering iceberg that seemed to only glare brighter next to the stark black band tattooed just beneath it, a matching tattoo on Rhysand’s own ring finger. Because of course they’d eloped in Paris and gotten tattoos instead of wedding rings. 

 If Nesta had been closer to her baby sister she imagined she might have felt betrayed on some level. But as things were, Nesta wasn’t entirely sure she would have received an invite even if they’d had a traditional wedding, planned to perfection by Elain. 

 It was probably the worst part of her job. The distance she had to put between herself and everyone she had the potential to care about. A distance she could never close even if she decided to retire right this minute because the damage had already been done.  Nesta had become a liability to their safety the minute she’d moved here and started in this line of work.  

 She took another chocolate from the box she’d snatched from downstairs on second thought. Her supply already dwindling thanks to the rather depression freight train of thought she’d embarked on.   

That and the fact they were really very good.  

Cassian may have been a prick, but she couldn’t deny he had great taste.  

In chocolate, and women, she thought smugly.  Sinking deeper into the basin.  

A heat flushed up her neck that had nothing to do with the bath as she unwillingly remembered how he’d softly coaxed one of these lovely little parcels between her full lips. The drunk hunger in his deep brown eyes and what he’d done next, snapping her lace thong between his teeth-  

Her music stopped. Only to be replaced by a buzzing thrum of her phone.  

Leaning forward Nesta checked the caller ID before swiping across the screen to accept the call and sinking back to her earlier position.  

“I’m not in the mood,” she hummed dismissively, head tipped back against the lip of the tub and eyes closing. She’d known this was coming, better to get it over with.  

“When I supply you with handsome, rich, and eligible men, I do not expect you to break them!” Feyre castigated through the phone, and anyone might guess she were the elder sibling.   

Feyre indeed thought herself wiser and more worldly than both Nesta and Elain, and getting married hadn’t helped diminish her false sense of maturity. Thrusting her character into some weird sarcastic seriousness that mirrored her husband’s demeanour perfectly. It made Nesta cringe so thoroughly she was mildly concerned about getting wrinkles.   

“And I thought we’d grown out of sharing toys, but it seems both our expectations were thwarted.” 

“Humans aren’t toys!” Feyre reminded her. Not that Nesta didn’t already know that. No vibrator had never made her cum as hard as Cassian had.  

“And if you resented me setting you up with Cassian then why did you fuck him ?” Feyre asked. And she said fuck as though it were synonymous to stab or poison.  

“Was it to punish me? Because if so you did a spectacular job. He’s crazier about you than ever and won’t stop moping. The second-hand embarrassment is painful enough without the added agony of how annoying it is.”  

If he likes me so much why was he so eager to assume the worst of me? Nesta thought spitefully. 

It didn’t matter that she technically was lying to him. He didn’t know that.  

“You told me to give him a chance.”  

“And you couldn’t have decided you didn’t like him before having sex with him?” 

Nesta wasn’t surprised Feyre had taken Cassian’s version of things at face value.   

Her husband’s family were unimpeachably wonderful in her eyes. Meanwhile Nesta remained just another reminder of a time Feyre couldn’t have afforded the plane ticket to get to New York, let alone a town house on the upper east side. A cold bitch who hadn’t begged to join the weird cult that was the Velaris family and their innermost circle when Feyre had married Rhysand last year.  

“Oh I’d already worked out he was an ass by that point but I thought he could at least make up for putting me through the date. Not much going on in that head but he quite clearly had it all going on- 

“Ew ew ew!” Feyre interrupted. “One, I need this conversation to steer clear of anything anatomical, and two, do you have to be so horrible?” 

“You’re the one pimping out your friends, I just took you up on the offer.”  

“Ever heard of the third date rule?” 

“Didn’t you marry Rhysand on the third date?” 

Feyre sighed.  

“Cassian’s a good guy, Nes. It takes a lot to come out the other side of what he’s been through a good man and he deserves the world so-” 

“So why did you send him my way?” 

Nesta knew what Feyre thought of her. And if she hadn’t then this conversation would have made it very clear.  

“Because Nesta! You’re twenty-four and already a crazy cat lady! I’m sorry I tried to save you from dying alone and having Vex eat your corpse.” 

Nesta rolled her eyes.  

“Have you ever considered I choose to be alone because I like it?” She asked. 

Feyre sighed again, but it was softer this time, sad more than exasperated.  

“You’re not alone, Nesta,” she said. “You’re lonely.” 

It was annoying enough that she was right, she didn’t have to be so pretentious about it aswell.  

“I’m fine,” Nesta said.  

“You sound just like Cassian,” Feyre grumbled.  

“Well I’ve been smoking.” 

“I’ll be sure to put how funny you were on your headstone when those things kill you.” 

“I’m racing Rhysand to the grave, he has more cigars than I do shoes.” 

“He only smokes them on special occasions.” 

“And how do you know this isn’t a celebratory cigarette on account of you calling me?” 

“Because instead of saying hi you said I’m not in the mood.” 

“Oh so you did hear me?” 

“I hear you, Nesta,” Feyre conceded, disappointment weighing on her words. “Loud and clear. Have a good week.”  

She hung up.  

“You too,” Nesta said into the silence.  

When the silence replied she sank beneath the water. As though she hoped it might act as the cushioned walls of a padded cell meant to protect those who posed a danger to themselves.  

It didn’t. And that unpleasant ache didn’t go away. It never did.  

Worse than the dull pounding in her ears and tightness in her chest as she held her breath.  

But it would be nothing compared to the devastation of seeing Feyre or Elain hurt. The tender ache of keeping them at arms length, knowing they were at least there to brush her fingers against, was worth avoiding spending the rest of her life reaching for someone taken from her.  

Perhaps that was also why she’d wanted so fiercely to dislike Cassian.  

Nesta re-emerged with a gasp, her chest on fire.  

What an unpleasant notion, she thought, running her fingers through her wet hair and  sinking back as she took a slower breath. That she’d been looking for a reason to dislike him even after overcoming the minor detail she was going to kill his friend and client.  An excuse to throw in the towel as soon as she could.  Because it was just easier.  

Easier than accepting she was fundamentally terrified of keeping him around.  

Easier than keeping him around and seeing him get hurt.  

Fuck.  

Her being mad at him had been a cop out.  

Because yes he’d been a petty, insecure idiot;  but hadn’t she told him she was going to fuck and chuck him? Hadn’t she been at typically fast to get in a fight with him? Substantiating his insecurities.  

Nesta might have been furious at his calling her a coward, but he hadn’t actually been wrong. 

She’d let some subliminal fear convince her to sabotage things.  

A subliminal and blissfully irrational fear she realised because, Cassian, a monument of pure muscle, could definitely look after himself. He’d been marine corps for Christ’s sake. Not to mention she’d seen him take down Helion enough times in the ring while still working for Eris and the fact the man literally specialised in keeping people safe for a living! 

Nesta felt a weird and almost unfamiliar lightness in her shoulders. It felt a little like hope. Which was also terrifying.  

But she wasn’t going to the let the fear control her this time.  

 — 

 Cassian had ignored her calls.  

All three.  

Which was fine because she’d been stalking him for the past month. She knew exactly where he’d be that evening and doing things in person meant she could kill him if he kept up the asshole routine.  

Nesta’s platform stiletto boots clipped against the laminate flooring as she emerged from the elevator.  Stalking lazily through the top floor of the Illyria building.   

Even if she killed Cassian he was going to die happy.  She looked good enough to eat. Thick hair fastened back into a high ponytail, the details of her face were subject to full attention. Her eyes appearing almost wider and lashes lavished with a black like her jet thigh-highs and tied coat. Plump lips softly lined and shaded, she looked drop dead fucking gorgeous.  

Though it was what she was wearing under her fastened coat that was the real killer.  

Nesta didn’t uncross her ankles from where they’d flicked over one another as she let herself lean against the doorframe of Cassian’s office.  

It was wide open. No privacy needed when everyone else had gone home around four hours ago. The night detail on Helion allowing Cassian time to catch up on work as he had every night and well into the morning for the past month.   

“All work and no play?”  

Cassian looked up from his desk.  

“I can fix that,” she said.  

He’d never looked more handsome.  

Hair bundled into a dark band, his shirt cuffed at his forearms and a bit of scruff marring his chiselled jaw. A pair of slim reading glasses were pushed up his slightly imperfect nose and it was such a turn on Nesta was glad she was leaning against something.  

He looked a little exhausted in a kind of brooding and adorable way.  

It gave her this awful pining to massage those sculpted shoulders as he let loose a deep, tired sigh, arms folding across that powerful chest causing his white shirt to hiss as he leaned back into his chair. It was a fucking massive bit of furniture. But then it had to be to accommodate him.  

“What are you doing here?”  

Rude.  

Nesta pushed off the doorframe and into his office.  

“You ignored my calls,” she said by way of explanation. Making her way to the bookcase and running her fingers across a row of spines. It was mostly files, but she noticed a few novels as well.  

“You kicked me out of your bed at three in the morning.” 

She turned to find him watching her.  

His words were dismissive and effortlessly confrontational as usual. But there was an edge to his voice. And it wasn’t arousal. Even if his gaze caught on her boots and lingering there for longer than he’d probably care to admit.  

Nesta leaned back against the bookshelf, inspecting her manicure with an eye roll.  

“You’re still upset about that?”  

“Not at all,” he said with a smirk. Reclining back against the chair a little further, hips rolling and arms casually folding. Too casually. The dangerous grace of it speaking to the emotion that no doubt roiled beneath his bronze skin. Belied by that bullshit cockiness which grated her to the bone. “It seems I dodged a bullet.” 

“Oh really?” 

“The whole hot but mean cliché is one thing, but crazy hookup who stalks me-“ 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she sneered.   

She’d seen hints of this before. The rugged and crude act meant to cover up the insecurity she’d also been treated to.  

“Oh I’m sorry. I forgot you can’t ever admit what it is you want.” 

“You don’t have a clue what I want.” 

“I have several, Nesta.” He looked her up and down pointedly. 

The way he said her name. Even like this it made her weak in the knees while her fingers itched to choke him.  

It was all very conflicting.  

“Oddly confident in your last performance for someone so insecure,” she quipped lazily.  

Cassian rose his brows with a mean a laugh.   

“What do I have to be insecure about?” He said. “I didn’t hide behind a half-ass lie to throw someone out of my bed. And I’m pretty sure even your neighbours can attest to how good of a time I gave you,” he smirked again.  “You’re not a good enough liar for the way you moaned my name to have been an act.” 

The white hot fist in her stomach folded in on itself as it melted to a stickiness despite the misguided insult. She certainly hadn’t been putting it on Saturday. Every sound he’d drawn from her dripping with sincerity. Every moan and whimper well deserved.   

“You’re right,” she said.  

Cassian blinked.  

Nesta prowled toward him and hummed, “those, four, orgasms, were about as fake as my emergency.” 

The sultry softness to her voice thickened to something less affected at those last words.  

Cassian scoffed. Though there was something withdrawn and careful to him that hadn’t been there a second ago. Like a snake recoiling in case it needed to strike.  “Your emergency, of course. Which was?” 

“Nothing to do with you.”  

He shook his head, laughing bitterly.   

“Seriously, Nesta? You’ve had two days to come up with something now.”  

“You’re not listening to me,” Nesta slipped atop the corner of the desk, perching there with her long legs crossed over one another. The blade of a stiletto heel close enough to brush up his calf if she wanted to make him shiver.  

But she didn’t. She just wanted him to listen. To understand what she was saying so she didn’t have to say anything more because for fucks sake he was the one who’d acted up and yet she was here putting her pride on the line again.  

“It had nothing, to do with you,” she said slowly.  

A weighted silence settled like snow between them.   

Until Cassian took a blow torch to it.  

“Shit.” 

His head fell into those large hands.   

“Shiiiiiiiit,” he cursed again. “Oh god, how badly have I fucked up?” He groaned, looking up.  So humbled and distraught it was almost comical.  

“Irredeemably.” Her eyes flirted with the notion of a little smile even if her mouth remained unquirked as she propped her hands against the desk behind her and leaned into them to more comfortably watch him suffer.  

“I’d beg you not to tease me but honestly I think it’s the least I deserve- fuck.” 

“Like me teasing you isn’t the highlight of your day.” She rolled her eyes.  

Cassian laughed, pained and almost sheepish, which shouldn’t have been hot but god it made her blush.  

Keep your cool goddamn it. She wanted a little more bang for her buck where grovelling was concerned before she let on how eager she was for things to get back on track.  

“Want to flat out abuse me and make it the highlight of my year?” 

She was struggling to keep the smile off her face even as she said, “I’m not in the habit of rewarding bad behaviour. You’re a man, you get enough of that already.” 

“Nesta,” he took his glasses off, setting them down on the desk beside her thigh. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking her in the eyes. “I’m, really, really fucking sorry I’m an idiot.” 

Nesta slid of the desk.  

“Go on,” she instructed.  

“A moron a fool a stupid, stupid son of a bitch.” 

Taking a step forward she was stood between his thighs. Picking up his glasses and pushing them back on his nose. Missing the sight of this hulking, powerhouse of a man in spectacles.  

“I’m sorry.” Cassian was looking up at her with those big brown eyes, and the bastard actually leaned into her palm.  

“Oh for fucks sake how did anyone discipline you as a child with those damn puppy-dog eyes?” She growled softly, furious.  

“They didn’t to be honest,” he admitted with a breathy laugh.  

“I can tell.” 

She slid her hands to his shoulders, fingers curling soft and possessive over the stacked muscle and palms pressed to his upper chest, stepping tighter into him.  

“I guess I’ll just have to do it.”  

Cassian swallowed.  

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,” he tried. Intoxicatingly deep, trying to maintain that arrogant and playful edge in a way that made his words all the hotter. The simmering ache he attempted to push down all but throbbing in his voice.   

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she returned, brows arched. Battling a smirk off her face.  

“Can I ask you to do something for me, then?” 

“If you say please.” 

“Please don’t screw around with me.” 

Nesta faltered.  

Those warm hands came to rest on her lower back, long fingers curling slightly into the fabric and coaxing her that last bit closer so that her thighs brushed against the edge of his chair and her stomach was brushing up against his.  

“I’m really into you,” he admitted.  “You’re smart and you’re beautiful, and at first I thought the whole hard to get thing was an act but woman you are genuinely hard to get and it is, so sexy. But whatever it is that’s holding you back, that made you wait a week to call me, that made you claim all you wanted was a hook up; I’m clearly not cut out to compete,” he confessed. “It got in my head, and that’s on me and me lashing out at you the other night that’s on me too and I’m so, so sorry Nesta. I need to know where I stand with you though. I need to know if you’re actually interested in me. Because I like you. But I’m too old for games.” 

The silence was so thick she could have cut through it with a knife.  

Nesta’s hands fell from his chest slowly.  

“That’s good,” she assured him at last. “Because I’m not a toy.”  

She brought her fingers to the belt of her coat and pulled slow and deliberate.  

Black glazed her figure with a gorgeous intimacy. The dress hugging at what little it concealed with perfection enough to make up for its lake of mercy. Long legs sheathed in those thigh-high boots, the item was short enough that a decent length of her thighs could be seen. Interrupted at the last possible moment by sleek jet as though she’d been dipped in oil of purest night.   

Cassian’s eyes blew out to sticky treacle behind those glasses.  

“I’m human, Cass,” she hummed, tossing her coat onto the desk behind her as she spoke. “Which means I make mistakes.” He swallowed as she sighed softly, her cleavage swelling a little with the motion.  “And that I have needs. Needs you can be the one to fulfill or not.” 

She slipped into his lap, straddling him, knees bent either side of his thighs. The corded strength of which pressed painfully and exhilaratingly apparent against the soft seam of her inner thighs and she was genuinely suffering from some kind of contact high. Every inch of him seizing up subtly, deliciously taught at her touch in an effort not to respond and yet it only revealed just how much she affected him.  

“Nesta-“ 

“Shhhhhh,” she interrupted. Hands cupping that ruggedly handsome face and titling it back to tuck her’s against him slowly. “But I want it to be you,” she purred against his jaw, tracing her nose up the stubbled curve. “Let me show you how bad.” 

“Someone could come back-“ 

“I don’t care,” Nesta murmured against his mouth. “I want you.” 

His eyes fluttered shut. And she felt his cock stir in those immaculately tailored slacks.  

“Nesta-” 

She could feel every muscle that licked up his stomach tremble with a drawn out contraction as she said it again, her hands slipping down to his broad shoulders. 

“I want you,” she purred again.  

He might have tried to breath.  And it might have rubbed up something uncomfortably nice in her lower tummy.  

“Say it,” she whispered, tilting her face so that the tip of her nose brushed up the side of his. Her breath hot on his stubbled Cupid’s bow and hands running down the solid power of his upper body, burning up through his shirt. “Say it, Cassian.” 

His brown eyes like cognac and magnolia were hooded behind his glasses as he conceded.  

“You want me,” he breathed.  

She grazed her mouth against his. Lips parted suggestively and an almost silent, utterly cruel noise escaping her.  

The length of his thick cock pressed up against the seam of her plush sex as he grew to full, hard attention in his slacks. Warm and thrilling even through her panties and their open mouths melted into one another hot and heavy, tongues caressing as his large hands came to her knees and smoothed up her bare thighs covetously. 

“Fuck,” he groaned lazily as her hips began rolling deeply into him, and her hands slid under his shirt. Fingers splayed, she snaked up the cobbled muscle of his stomach, the flesh burnished and warm beneath her touch. His shirt riding up to reveal the gutter of his hips, gruesomely toned and dusted with hair.   

“This is…such a…” he breathed, between the perfect and yearning motions of their jaws, a hand smoothing up her waist in a way that made her shiver.  

“Dream come true?” She hummed, kissing him wanton and unhurried. Dangerously close to becoming a brainless mess with the way his cock rubbed up her core.  

His groan melted to a laugh or maybe it was the other way round.  

“Yes,” he admitted breathlessly. “And a bad, bad…idea.” 

“Well you’ve been a bad, bad boy, Cassian,” she whispered filthily against his ear, before capturing the lobe between her teeth softly.  

She sucked and nibbled oh so gently and he expelled a breath so gravelly and masculine it twisted the hungry knot in her core tighter. 

“Nesta…we-fuck you’re good at that…” he groaned lethargically . “Sweetheart, we can’t…” 

“Why not,” she coed quietly, the sound airy and affectedly filthy.  

“We’re…” he choked as he took in the sight of her cleavage, pushed intimately to his chest and escaping the neckline of her dress like a plume of toothpaste squeezed from the tube. “Fucking hell Nesta we’re in my office.” 

“And I’m saying you could be in me.” 

She rocked her hips against him with a particularly cruel slant.  

The groan that escaped him made something flip in her stomach, tossing about whatever sweet, impossible to describe feeling rushed there at the same time at the way his head fell back against the chair as she worked him over.  The hot friction that rubbed against her sensitive core the cherry on top of the sweet, creamy, decadent sundae.  

“Besides,” she moaned, breathless and sultry. Teeth plunging softly into her plump bottom lip as she continued rolling her hips. Hands rubbing over his shoulders and providing her leverage. “You’re the boss.” 

“I think we both know…that I’m not the boss…right now…” he groaned. Almost pained.  

“Your cock a little much for those slacks?” She hummed, faux sympathy dripping through her mocking pout. 

“I thought you liked a tight fit,” she teased, still pouting but eyes smokey. Her toes curling in her boots as her fingers began work on pulling his shirt apart.  

The buttons popped undone with a sensual and pining tempo and she was moaning quietly into his mouth as she explored the panes and ripples of that powerful upper body. More than thorough in her hands-on assessment.  

Cassian’s own hands were keeping just as busy, massaging and kneading her ass indulgently before smoothing over her rolling hips and eventually coming to her lower back. His thumbs pressing to the small of her back either side of her spine and it made something tight inside her swoon. The touch so hot and the memory it conjured so good. His big hands on her as he fucked her from behind.  

“Nesta,” Cassian groaned deeply, as she began rocking into him tighter, hotter. The impression of his cock lined up just right with her aching core.  

“Hey, baby,” She purred, drunk on the friction that made her whole body throb and hum with pleasure and the tip of her nose brushing the side of his. Hands snaking from his exposed chest to either side of his face and capturing his bruised mouth with her own. Chewing on his bottom lip obscenely, the friction beginning to push her over edge.  

“Fuck you’re incredible,” he groaned huskily once she let up. Kissing back decadently. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed almost mindlessly. “I’m so fucking sorry, Nesta.” 

“You wanna show me how sorry you are?” she purred, sultry and low, mouth parting, forehead still pressed to his and eyes fluttering open to hold his own.   

Cassian nodded, dumb and silent and eager and Jesus it turned her on.  

“Yeah? You wanna make me cum?” She hummed.  

“Yes, yes, please.” 

“Touch me, Cassian,” she whispered against his open mouth. “Make it up to me, make me feel good.” 

Cassian’s hands slid back to her ass and she moaned into the kiss he captured her lips in as he lifted her with a sensual squeeze,  wrapping her long legs tightly round the tapered cut of his waist as he stood.  

The surface of the desk was beneath her before she could work out which way was up and his touch smoothed down her legs to her knees before she could take a a breath in reprieve from kissing him. Her legs splitting either side of his broad hips and his erection, tucked to the side in his slacks and thick and heavy and hard, pushed against the inner seam of her thigh as he pulled that band from her hair. 

“I’m gonna make these gorgeous legs tremble for me,” he pledged against the her jaw, kissing and nipping his way down to where her pulse throbbed for him as he a hand through the loose locks.  

And he began suckling at that sensitive spot just as a calloused hand slipped between her thighs.  

“Mmmmm,” Nesta moaned smugly, gripping at his biceps still sheathed in the sleeves of his shirt as Cassian’s thumb ran up the seam of her dripping cunt through her panties. The lace a flimsy veil between her swollen clit and his hot touch.  

“Fuck I’ve missed you,” he moaned into her neck, her head rolling back as he snapped her panties and began stroking his fingers through her soft folds possessively. “Missed those little sounds and your mouth and this pretty neck and perfect pussy.” 

“Then cut out the all bark no bite bullshit and prove it,” she breathed.  

“Yes ma’am,” he murmured thickly, the pad of his thumb coming to her clit and she moaned as he circled the sensitive bundle of nerves expertly. Her nails pressing into his shoulders, a few through the hiss of his shirt but the others carving crescents into the bronze muscle and tattoos like the meat of an apple.   

His forefinger began teasing at her tight entrance and Nesta’s breath caught.  

“Tease me and you’ll fucking regret it,” she warned thickly, and he pushed the digit inside.  

The intrusion was far from the thick, eight inches she craved, but when he curled his finger against a sensitive, swollen spot deep inside her Nesta keened aloud.  

“You look so fucking good like this,” Cassian breathed, husky and bestial as he crooked his finger inside her over and over.  

“More,” she demanded. 

It probably wasn’t clear if she was demanding more dirty praise or physical attention but Cassian was a good boy and covered all his bases. A second finger pushing inside her that second.   

She gasped as the snug walls of her cunt stretched to accommodate the two of them as he waxed lyrical about how hard her moaning got him.  Their foreheads level and those deep brown eyes lathering her with his earnest attention.  

“You’re dripping down my knuckles like a fucking peach,” Cassian told her as he thrust inside her over and over, the only thing more obscene than her facial expression and the breathless sounds she was making being the quite, wet noises his fingers illicited.  

He hadn’t let up on her clit, and at the exact moment he decided to start curling those two fingers together, he increased the speed and pressure with which he rubbed at her most responsive spot with his thumb.  

“Cassian,” Nesta moaned, her fingers running up the nape of his neck and delving into his hair, still pulled into that bun.  

“That’s it, that’s so fucking hot, baby, I want your cum dripping down my wrist,” he growled softly. Her nails sliding down his scalp.  

“You’re so fucking needy,” she got out, which only served to utterly delight him. His thumb working at her from an oh so subtly more intense angle that had a familiar buzzing low inside her threatening to pluck her apart at the seams.  

“Oh my god fuck,” she moaned. “Uhhu, that’s it, just like that oh my god.” 

“You gonna cum, Nesta? You gonna cum on my desk- Jesus I’m gonna be thinking about you moaning, long legs spread for me while you moan so fucking dirty for my fingers every time I’m sat at this fucking desk now, you know that?”  

His words sent her over the edge.  

Silently she threw her head back as her orgasm licked up every frayed nerve in her body. It was hard. And Cassian kept on working those thick fingers inside her and over her sensitive clit throughout.  

Fucking her dirty and skilled. Prolonging her twitching and bone melting pleasure.  

Until she was snaking her hands from where they’d wound through his fastened hair, and pushing him off her at the shoulders.  Falling back on her forearms with a shaky exhale, thighs still trembling subtly.  

Cassian smirked. And brought his fingers to his mouth. Licking up the length of the calloused, sticky digits. Eyes on her’s from behind those obnoxiously sexy reading glasses she had half a mind to slap off his face.  

“You taste even better than I remember,” he purred.  

“Then get on your knees.” 

Her voice was shaky but he didn’t even throw her another of those antagonistic and gorgeous smirks, just sank down. All six foot whatever, two hundred and something ridiculous pounds of muscle. Knelt on the floor between her legs.  

“Is initiative encouraged of am I to be strictly obedient?” There was that smirk.  

“You can use your brain,” she permitted. Still out of it. But still dying for him to touch her again.  “If only because I need to be convinced you have one.”  

His chuckle felt like fucking heaven between her thighs. His stubbled jaw rubbing up against her aching cunt as he kissed her like he meant it. Open mouthed and his tongue then slipping out to lavish her dripping slit before he began playing with her clit with the tip.  

Nesta moaned, chewing down on her lip once she located the dignity to quieten down so she could keep it that way.  

Her previous orgasm should have taken the edge off, but it had only reminded her already whetted appetite what there was to gorge on. Leaving her pining for more and disastrously sensitive.  

“Mmmm,” Cassian moaned deeply- though honestly it was closer to a growl which was hot- and brought those large hands to her thighs. Holding her open for him stoking the bruise-blue flame that writhed in her core and allowing him better access to her pussy.  

“Oh god right there,” Nesta keened. His nose brushing up against her clit as he licked up her snug entrance, teasing his tongue inside.  

He threw her legs over his stacked shoulders and obeyed, working his tongue inside her with shameful enthusiasm only emphasised by the noises he was making. Seriously he was putting her to shame.  

In fact if she hadn’t been rapidly approaching another orgasm she might have thought he was have more fun than her.  

Hands no longer occupied with gripping her black-clad thighs they came to her hips and waist. Coaxing her to slant forward at an angle that granted him an even more advantageous angle from which to eat her out.  

She moaned, manicured nails almost clawing into his desk behind her. “Mhmm mhmm uh,” she gasped sharply at the sudden relocation of his tongue. Cassian capturing her clit in his mouth and sucking on the sensitive bud as he flicked his tongue up and down.  

“Fuck, yes yes yes yes,” she was utterly breathless. “Oh god, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” she whined.  

Cassian fucking groaned and it was like he’d pulled at the knot in her stomach with his teeth.  

The muscles in her lower stomach twitching as she came, the cushiony walls of her cunt pulsing tight and the only thing grounding her to reality.  

Though she was just lucid enough to know Cassian was lapping up the nectar between her legs with audible and pleased snarls of pure, masculine satisfaction.  

Nesta couldn’t say how long it took her to stop seizing, just that she was completely drunk on pleasure by the time her body allowed her to at least try and think. She failed completely. Wasted on her orgasm, on Cassian.  

“Come ‘ere,” she said, breathless and doped up. Eyes barely fluttering open, heavy lidded and probably glazing over with unabashed appreciation as Cassian did as he was told. Rising to stand before her, thick arms winding round her waist snuggly and pulling her to him tight.  

His sheathed erection pushed to her sticky inner thigh and his powerful upper body, chiselled and broad and comforting, warm and hard and dusted with dark hair, pushed to her’s.  

His sharp jaw, like her thighs, was slightly sticky, and his mouth looked even more abused than it from the attention of her teeth. But the best part- better than his mid-sex blush or the way he was breathing all deep and powerful and hungry for her, were his glasses. They were slightly fogged up at the edges.  

“Apology accepted?” He asked huskily, like he was already sure of the answer. Like he didn’t care because no matter what she said he was going to have her screaming for him till they were both sick of each other.  

“Apology accepted,” Nesta confirmed. Splayed hands smoothing up his broad chest as she captured his lips in a wanton kiss.  

“That still leaves your punishment though,” she whispered.  

Cassian’s dark brows had barely risen before she’d pushed him back and he was falling into the chair again. Breathing deep and thrumming with a desire that destabilised him as he watched her slip a stiletto heel beneath her panties on the floor and flick them up into her hand. Prowling toward him and climbing into his lap. Hoping it wasn’t obvious that her legs felt like liquid.  

“Hold these,” she demanded, feeding the bundle of lace into his mouth, his groan muffled by the fabric and her hands making quick and embarrassingly eager work of removing his unfastened shirt. All but tearing it off his sculpted arms that must have been as thick as her thighs- his body was ridiculous.  

She griped his wrists before he could start doing something like feeling her up and brought them behind his head. Elbows out and biceps flexed, his hands meeting in the middle at the nape of his neck.  

Cassian kissed and nipped at her fingers as she plucked her panties from his mouth with one hand, holding his wrists with the other.  

He licked at his lips as though chasing the taste of her lingerie, eyes on her’s from behind his glasses.  

She wasn’t gentle knotting the lace round his wrists.  

“Oh,” he grinned, trying to move his arms.  

He couldn’t of course, the physics working against him and rendering it so his only way out would be pulling until the lace snapped for a second time this evening. Still, it was a fucking gorgeous sight watching him try. Biceps and broad chest flexing.  

Tied up and at her mercy she was dripping wet for him and slipped her tongue into his mouth as a little reward for how fucking hot he looked like this. Kissing him obscene and wet.  

“Safe word?” She murmured into his mouth.  

“Harder,” Cassian grinned. No doubt referencing her answer to the very same question the other night.  

Nesta bit his bottom lip, puncturing the bruised cushion subtly and she tasted blood on her teeth and his tongue.  

“Safe word,” she insisted once more against his lips, fingers winding through his hair with a drawn out and yearning pull.  

“Amren,” he groaned`. Then added, “don’t ask.” 

“Yeah we’re done talking,” she informed him dismissively. Unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops of his slacks with a swift tug.  

Cassian’s hips jumped beneath her and she unfastened the button slung low on his hips, pulling the zip of his fly down. Parted lips close to brushing.  

“Down boy,” she purred.  

“Bit late for that,” he breathed raggedly, jaw feathering as she slid her hand into his boxers.  

“God you’re adorable,” Nesta pouted, freeing his thick cock. Obnoxiously engorged and a dribble of pearlescence spilling from the uncut tip.  

“Now be a good boy and don’t you dare cum until I say,” she warned.  

And sank down on thick inch after inch of his hot, rigid shaft.  

Nesta couldn’t help the arch that slipped through her spine as he filled her up, the stretch so acute it had her eyes rolling back with a flutter of her thick lashes.  

“Oh my god,” she moaned breathlessly, hands splayed against his powerful chest. Thighs straddling his, her walls hugged him vice like and- Jesus, he rubbed up that deep spot inside her perfectly. 

“Nesta,” Cassian groaned beneath her. “You’re so… fucking tight.” 

Nesta rolled her head to the side in tandem with her hips, growing accustomed to the sheer size of him and eliciting a raw sound from the man before she removed his reading glasses. Fitting them over the bridge of her own petite nose.  

“No backseat driving now, sweetheart,” she purred a little shakily.  

She rose onto her knees only to sink back down again with a filthy twist of her hips. Repeating the motion again and again. Gliding up and down his cock with a tight and slippery friction that had her stomach flexing and his gaze heavy lidded. Encouraging, low noises escaping from deep in his chest that she wanted to bottle up and get drunk on.  

“Uhh,” she keened, dirty and blissful, hands on his stacked shoulders. “Uhhu.” 

“Oh fuck,” Cassian breathed huskily. “Mmhhm…that’s it…fucking ride me baby” 

Nesta felt a familiar heat fan at her core as she drank him up. Every perfect, delicious inch there for her to use.  

“Cassian,” she moaned. The sound tasting like sex in her mouth.  

She fluttered around him again on an upwards twist of her hips, his cock pushing in and out of her snug cherry with a delicious wet sound. Just audible above her filthy moans.   

Riding him was like sucking on a hard candy, that intense sweetness at the centre burning ever closer. And he kept running that damn mouth.  Gravelly and deep, lavishing her body with sickly sweet and dirty compliments.  

“Fuck that’s it gorgeous, just like that sweet thing fucking hell you’re fucking perfect.” 

Powerful and dripping with raw fucking desire his body rolled upwards into her, slick with sweat and chiselled sinew.  His cock burying deeper inside her. The sounds he was making just to top it off causing a tight fuzziness to tremble in her upper thighs.   

“Oh my god,” Nesta moaned, hands coming to his face and lips brushing his as so she moaned a hot, “I’m gonna cum,” into his mouth.  

Cassian groaned. Kissing her hard and deep.  

“Cassian,” she keened.  

She began bouncing deeper in his lap. Up and down up and down. His cock thrusting inside her hard and rubbing at her g spot just right while her clit grazed the coarse hair at his rugged hips. There was a bead of sweat gliding down the chiselled muscle that carved his broad torso, washboard abs flexing as he resisted release and Nesta felt the pressure between her thighs reach a fever pitch.  

Grunting he bucked violently beneath her once, twice, and she was undone.   

Nesta might have made a noise this time. Airy and hot and open mouthed against his neck as she buried her hands into his hair.  

He was so tense beneath her, like pure marble soaked in the heat of the sun. Trying not spill inside her as her walls flexed with every hot wave of pleasure.  

And once it passed his breathing was as ragged as her own.  

“You did so good,” Nesta whispered at last against his ear. Voice wrecked like she were experiencing a sugar crash. Nibbling at the lobe. Tasting salt on her lips and eyes fluttering shut at the heady scent of his aftershave.  

“Does that mean I get a reward?” he managed.  

“Something like that,” she hummed, repositioning herself so that her back was to his chest.  

“Nesta please. Just untie me, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered against her ear. Voice trembling like he’d shot up something good.  

Nesta only chuckled, head knocked back so she could hold his eyes as she rolled her hips. Teasing, tormenting.  

“The second you get your hands on these,” she brought her hands to her tits, giving them a soft squeeze and biting her lip, “you’ll be cumming and out of commission.”  

Cassian growled, watching her feel herself up as she rolled her hips in leisurely circles.  Sensual and dirty. The length of his hard shaft, thick and velvet smooth beneath her.  

“Fuck,” he moaned huskily. Nose buried at her throat and lips working against her pulse point with the assistance of his tongue and teeth. Just as slow and through as her hips. 

She gasped softly, grinding deeper.  

“You know how good I can make it for you,” he purred.  

“Mmmm,” she moaned quietly in agreement.  

“Let me take care of you.” 

“Cassian.” 

“You make my name sound so sexy,” he grazed his stubbled jaw against the bruise he’d worked into her throat, the sensitive skin blushing warm at the contact as he moved his mouth to another location and started kissing and nibbling there.  “Untie me, baby, and I’ll give you everything you want.” 

Nesta smiled.  

“Or I could keep you tied up and just take it.” 

Cassian growled against her neck as she tilted her hips forward allowing his cock to spring up, and sank down on him again.  

She moaned, loud and keening. Hands snaking through his hair behind her as she rocked herself up and down slowly. There wasn’t a lot of friction, but for now it was enough just to revel in how good Cassian’s cock felt. That last orgasm having finally takes the edge off.  

“Fuck that’s it grind for me,” he moaned. His breath was hot against her neck and she could feel his heart beat. Feel every deep sound reverberate through his chest as she moved.   

His cock rubbed up against her g spot, colours and stars bleeding behind her eyes like fireworks.  

“Cassian,” she whimpered lowly.  

It was so good.  

Hands fumbling distractedly she brought her fingers to untie him.  And he deemed it all the permission he needed. Tearing himself free with a growl.  Capturing her mouth in a slow and wanton kiss as those big hands came to rove her body, taking his time to pull her apart.  

His touch hot and calloused, Nesta moaned into his mouth as he ran up her stomach, her hips, her thighs, her tits. Massaging and glazing every inch of her with a rough heat that made her feel like she was going to explode. Her body a champagne flute dangerously close to shattering at the frequency of his hot groans and growls.  

“Right there, oh right fucking there baby,”  She moaned quietly against his lips, one of his hands rubbing her hip and guiding her motions while the other palmed at her breast.  

“Yeah? You like that?” He dipped his head to pull down the straps of her bra and dress down with his teeth until her cleavage spilt from the cups. Pebbled nipples tight and rosy in the dim light, peaking over the balcony of her bra.  

“Mmmmm,” he murmured against her throat, exploiting the sensitive spot as he made his way back up to her face and watched her plump tits sway. A hand running from her hip down her thigh and back up again to slip between her legs to stroke her clit. 

Nesta whined softly.  

“Cassian…more…” 

She kissed him sluggish and distracted. The two of them humming and moaning every so often until he started caressing her clit tighter and her sounds grew more frantic.  

“Fuck uhhu, uhhu just like that,” she panted quietly into his mouth. “Oh god uhh, uhhh more…more…more more Cassian fuck me.” 

She was on her feet before she could complain that his hands were no longer between her thighs. Pushed up against the edge of his desk, hands falling splayed against the surface to stop herself falling across the wood and legs split apart.   

“Oh!” 

“Good girl,” he grunted deeply. “Moan for me.” 

His calloused fingers came to her clit, coaxing her closer to the edge as the other gripped her hip.  

“That’s it, that’s my girl such a good girl baby.” 

Mouth caught open as though on a fish hook Nesta started seeing black splodges, the puddles flaring in her vision on every one of his thrusts. Deep and dirty and filling her till she was so impossibly full she spilt over.  

“Fuck fuck just like that oh my god you’re so fucking tight, cum on my cock, cum on my cock, uh, uh, uh.”  

Cassian finished inside her with a guttural sound as she came. Pumping her full one last time with a brutal snap of his hips.  

She was vaguely aware of his ragged breathing against her ear. Somewhat sure her forearms had fallen flat against his desk and her head hung forward. Hair falling over her face and back arched as her tight sex twitched and fluttered around him.  

Coming back to her senses took longer than she’d ever admit.  

“Is that cctv?” Nesta asked eventually, head tipped back and resting on his shoulder. Eyes flicking in gesture to the tiny little camera in the opposite corner of the ceiling.  

“Don’t worry,” Cassian breathed. “It’s switched off.” 

She turned her gaze to him.  

“Shame.” 

He let out an exhausted and reverent sound that might have been a laugh. And just as exhausted, once he’d pulled out, he fell back into the chair behind him. Trousers pulled back up but unbuttoned.  

Nesta followed in fatigued suit, working her dress back down over her hips and sinking to the floor, back against the desk. She probably shouldn’t have worn black… but the impending bill and judgement from her dry cleaner would be worth it.  

“Friday night. Pick me up at eight,” she breathed.  

Cassian grinned.  

“You like Italian?”  

Nesta rolled her eyes from behind the reading glasses askew on her nose, but nodded none the less. She was sort of screwed if she didn’t. Cassian’s adopted family were Italian on his father’s side. The cuisine was going to be pretty commonplace if they kept seeing each other she imagined.  

“What are you thinking about?” He hummed, watching her.  

Nesta smiled. Then crawled toward him across the floor. “How I still have that table cloth you call a dinner jacket at my place.”  

 “Was that plan b?” He laughed, snaking an arm round her waist as she climbed into his lap. “Hold my jacket hostage till I agreed to go out with you again?”  

“No,” she glared at him softly, nestling into the crease of his shoulder. “Though I had thought about wearing it tonight. Just your jacket and a pair of heels.” 

Cassian licked his lips as though contemplating the sight and liking what he imagined very much. “Next time,” he hummed distractedly. Less promise more pleading. “This was…,” his free hand roved down her side, the black fabric glued to her figure. “And these…,” his touch made her melt as he ran down her thigh and platform boot, her legs flicked over one another.  

“Lethal,” he whispered.  

Nesta scoffed. “You’re telling me. My toes are killing me.”  

Cassian hummed sympathetically, fitting a heel in his hand and guiding the shoe off her foot. Nesta groaned softly and he did the same with the other boot.  

“That bad?” He chuckled, starting to massage her.  

“Worth it though,” she sighed, nuzzling into his shoulder.  

  Cassian held the door open for Nesta to emerge out onto the street first. The cool night air whipping lazily at her hair. 

Their second date had been incredible.  

He’d taken her to Gnocco in the East Village. Proper Italian food, fairy lights, and intimate little corners perfect for flirting over too many glasses of wine and playing footsie beneath the table. Not to mention casual enough to see Nesta Archeron fitted out in heels, a snug black top, and a jaw dropping pair of jeans.  

Tactically quiet and effortlessly biting as ever, she’d been armed with passionate reviews on the podcasts she’d listened to or books she’d read that week. Asking him about his own week and listening thoughtfully in a way that had probably made him blush.  

If it hadn’t, then the way she’d licked at the creamy vanilla gelato on her dessert spoon definitely had.  

Cassian was far too tempted to slip his hand into the back pocket of her dark skinny jeans as he emerged after her, but he felt Nesta probably wasn’t one for PDA. Or more accurately, public groping. And he was determined to be on his best behaviour this evening. Determined to make her forget all about how shit-awfully he’d handled last Saturday.  

Not that he hadn’t given her a thorough apology.  

Consistency was key however, and there would be no lapse in his conduct any time soon when it came to Nesta. He’d lucked out so fucking hard in getting a second chance when he hadn’t even deserved the first with a woman like her. Clever and beautiful and passionate and god he had it bad.  

Had been thinking about her all week. Their date the only thing getting him through the late nights that were pretty much killing him at this point and the days spent arguing with Helion.  

Cassian had worked out who’d put a hit on his friend. And why.  

The contracts Helion was in the midst of signing were of a more personal nature that he’d originally let on. His will to be precise. In which it was detailed that upon his death, the pharmaceutical powerhouse that was Day Inc. should be handed over to Saoirse Vanserra.  

The married woman Helion had gone and fallen in love with twenty odd years ago. The mother of his child. 

Not that Helion had been aware of the that little detail until recently. Terminally ill, Saoirse hadn’t wanted the secret buried with her, and had gotten in touch with her old flame to tell him her youngest was his.  

Despite being well into his fifties, Helion behaved like a twenty-something at the best of times. But learning he had a son that actually was twenty-something had thrust him into a panicked play at accountability. Saoirse was going to die, and soon, but Helion would still have a piece of her, a piece of the both of them despite the estrangement that had haunted their relationship since the start. A piece he’d do every and anything in his power to do right by.  

Which meant Lucien would inherit his father’s company when the time came.  

But removing Saoirse from his will…it felt like signing her death warrant. At least that’s what he’d told Cassian. That it it felt like he was giving up on her.  

Cassian wished Helion could process everything in as much time as it took him. But time was a luxury not even the multi-millionaire could afford. Not with Saoirse’s eldest, Eris, trying to take him out before the will could be changed.  

As things stood, Eris was set to inherit anything of his mother’s- a compromise reached between Saoirse and her cunt of a husband who’d wanted everything in his name. The Vanserra court its own savage little patriarchy of snakes and vipers, meaning as long as Beron was around, what belonged to his sons, belonged to him.  

Still, Eris was the undisputed second in command and Beron wasn’t getting any younger. If he could take Helion out before any changes were made to the CEOs will, and if Saoirse’s doctors were to be believed, Day would practically be his by the end of the year.  

Maybe sooner. If Beron beat his cancer ridden wife to death upon learning she’d been left Helion Day’s company and why.   

He doubted anyone would put it past the bastard.  

“Hey,” Nesta’s voice tugged at his attention as they turned off tenth. “Where’d you go?”  

Cassian snaked his arm around her small waist, pulling her against him. “Just thinking,” he said. And as hard as he tried to push those thoughts away, something of them lingered in his voice.  

She raised a neat eyebrow. That little beauty spot above the arch lifting with it and the one beneath the corner of her plump bottom lip quirking just barely.  

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that before.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh. Tucking her tighter to his side as he looked down at her. “That’s because the only thing I ever think about is you. And when I’m with you, I don’t have to do that, do I?” 

Her blush was so utterly adorable it made him want to kiss her senseless.  

“How do you do that?” Those eyes like the smoke of ice narrowed in sincere curiosity. It was a little terrifying.  Which off course only made him like her more.  

“What? Make you blush like a-” 

“No,” she interrupted him with an embarrassed and chiding laugh, pushing at his chest slightly. “Say things, just say them-  like the only thing that matters is that you mean them?” 

Cassian smiled. “Not everything has to be done strategically, Nesta.”  

“Says the military man.” 

“And wouldn’t you say that makes me qualified to- okay fine, roll your eyes at me. Jokes on you because it’s actually very sexy when you do that so.” 

Nesta laughed, her head falling to rest below his chest as they walked.  

“Fortunate you say something to make me roll my eyes every five seconds then,” she hummed.  

“And that I know just how to make those eyes roll back,” he purred lowly in response with a roguish grin, rubbing his thumb against where her coat lay over her stomach.  

“Oh and you’re telling me this whole conversation wasn’t strategically constructed so you could use that line?” Nesta looked up at him.  

“Sweetheart, when are you going to accept that I’m just incredibly smooth?” He grinned. “Besides, that wasn’t a line.”  

“That was so a line!”  

“You’d know if I was giving you a line.” 

“Go on then. Give me your best line,” she challenged. Stopping dead and turning on him with her arms folded. Cassian didn’t let his arm slip from around her waist though. Kept it right where it was as he brought his free hand to tuck a lock of chocolatey hair behind her ear. Inspiration striking him.  

“Are you a box of chocolates?” he asked, gravelly and suggestive.  “Because I’d love to take your top off.”  

Nesta really had the loveliest laugh in the world.  

“That’s awful!” She put her hands firm against his chest. “How did you ever get laid before I took pity on you?”  

“Um I’m gorgeous and rich,” he reminded her, both arms now caging her in.  

“What a coincidence,” Nesta purred, their noses tucked against one another just barely thanks to his date’s shoes. No doubt expensive as they were tall.  

“No coincidences here, sweetheart. This is all fate.” 

“I’m deliberately not rolling my eyes just to spite you for saying something so cliché and dumb,” she murmured.  

“Fine then. Fate and your meddling sister,” he admitted.  

“Let’s not talk about my little sister right now,” Nesta’s hands snaked up to toy with the lapels of his coat.  

“What would you rather we talk about?”  

“I don’t want to talk at all,” she whispered. And pulled him down lazily to meet her mouth.  

Cassian moulded his lips to the perfect pressure of her own. Hard and soft, her mouth like velvet and her body pressing into his tight and loose in all the right places.  

Kissing Nesta was like brushing you fingers against the glacial softness of snow like flakes of glass. Irresistible and inevitable. Burning so soft at first before the sensation grew unbearably tender and acute.  It reminded you that you were alive.  

The movements of their mouths grew hotter, no less lethargic, but simply heavier. Like they had all the time in the world and planned to exploit every second.  

So much for not into PDA, Cassian thought, as she coaxed his mouth open further with her tongue, his own slowly swiping to meet it. And he did slip his hand into her back pocket then, giving her a fond and pining squeeze which pulled her tighter into him.  

The pads of her thumbs brushed at either side of his jaw as she arched a little, those perfect tits pushed against his upper body and he dug his fingers a little more possessively into the fabric of her coat. Bunching at her waist beneath his calloused touch.  

Nesta sighed sweetly into him-  

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Cassian swore.  Tame Impala playing from his pocket.  

“Looks like I’m not the only one who likes your attention,” Nesta laughed quietly, hands smoothing back to her sides politely. The little menace. Her effortless composure all the more devastating with her mouth kissed cherry-red and pupils blown wide as saucers.  

He fished out his phone, and declined the call.  

“Well you’re the only one getting it.” 

She rose her brows as though she were impressed, winding her arms back around his neck.  

“For a man who hates games you have game, Velaris.” 

“Would you feel less wooed if I told it you was just Rhysand?” He admitted. Rejecting his busybody brother’s phone call a far less bold gesture than if it had been work.  

Nesta’s little smile was like molten satin.  

“That makes it even better,” she kissed him again.  

Cassian kissed her back through his laugh, dipping her back slightly for a more indulgent angle, her arms lacing tighter around him to hold herself up. Like he’d let her fall.  

Nesta was the one laughing now and it tasted like gelato and champagne and sunrises. He nipped at her lip as he pulled her back up with him snuggly, and she brought her hand to cup the side of his face, the other at his tapered waist.  

“I should get going,” she hummed distractedly,  hand gliding up his body like she didn’t even realise.  

Her tongue caressed his slowly before he was muttering against her, “probably”, chasing the plush heat of her mouth.  

They didn’t stop. Not even as Nesta was murmuring a disjointed, “heighten the…suspense…keep you…wanting and all that.” 

“I’m already losing interest,” he purred gruffly, their jaws knocking intimately as the kiss became hotter and fitful, short breaths and hungry mouths. Her nails scraping softly up the nape of his neck and through his hair.  

“And you’re looking for it in my back pocket, is that it?” She whispered, and Cassian gave her ass a firm squeeze as either confirmation or reprimand.  

She bit his bottom lip, the nip of her pearly teeth giving way to a sensual sort of chewing that made his eyes roll back behind closed lids and his large hands wound through her hair to guid her head back so he could take charge. Kissing her slow once again but dirtier, thorough and wanton and Nesta keened almost silently.  

“Found it,” Cassian said thickly into her mouth.  

“Want your prize?” She whispered breathlessly.  

“Yes please.” 

Nesta slid her hand between them. Fingers brushing his belt, then lower- 

Cassian couldn’t tell if he was relieved or devastated when she slipped her way inside his pocket and plucked free his phone.  

She withdrew just barely from the kiss, switched it on and turned the screen to him. The device unlocked as both his hands tucked into her pockets and her manicured thumbs were tapping away.  

Cassian brushed at the curved beam of her high cheekbone with his nose, trying to see what she was up to.  

“What are you doing?”  

“Callander says you’re free Friday. Or it did.  Now it says you have a date.” She nestled herself back into him tightly, tucking the device back into his pocket, exploiting that teasing proximity to something else entirely and driving him crazy as she grazed his mouth with her own.  

“Congratulations.” 

Cassian grinned.  

“Tha- wait just to be clear the date is with you, right?”  

 “Yes, Cassian, the date is with me,” she chuckled. “And I can’t wait,” her humming melted to something wordless and heavy as he kissed her again.  

Slow and explicit he stroked his tongue inside and he swore he felt the flutter of her lashes against his cheek.  

“Cassian,” she breathed almost silently and it burnt his lungs like freezing air.  

“Can I take you home?” Cassian whispered.  

“May I take you home,” Nesta corrected between the sinful caress of their lips.  

“Please do.” 

She was kissing the smirk off his face like she could taste how snug he was and wanted a piece of it for herself. Like she were working at a marshmallow or strawberry lathered with thick chocolate from a hot fountain of the stuff.  

“Maybe you are smooth,” she whispered and it only inflated Cassian’s self satisfaction. “But we both know I like it rough.” Ouch. “Just like we both know you’re way too exhausted to have your way with me.” 

He pulled back abruptly.  

But his mouth had barely opened to argue when she gave him a definitive “don’t”. It was little bit arousing. “You said yourself how late you’ve been working. Have you slept at all this week?” 

For all her icy glares and hellish attitude, at her core, Nesta was kind. She cared despite her pretences to the contrary and it meant she noticed things. Like how despite his lively grins, Cassian was out for the fucking count.  

“That’s what I thought. You can screw me when I know you won’t pass out before making it to third base.” 

“The only one who’d be passing out is you once I’m through fu-” 

“Save that thought for a night you have the energy to see it through,” she said.  

“But I-” 

A quirk of her neat brows shut him up.  

He growled a bitter but accepting sound. She was right, of course she was right, because she was Nesta and a Nesta was always right.  

“Friday,” he promised. “I’m gonna cook for you, something fucking romantic.” 

“More romantic than that sentence?”  

“Look I may not be Keats but I know my way round a stove, so hold all sarcastic comments until I’ve fed you.” 

“I’ll try, but I know for a fact you’re going to make that very hard.” 

“How have you already failed?” 

“Shut up,” Nesta laughed.  

“You have the sexiest fucking laugh.” 

“So you’ve said,” she blushed.  

“And I’ll keep saying it if every time I do you blush like that.” 

“Like I’m embarrassed for you?” she countered with an arched brow and a cruel twitch at the corner of her mouth.  

“You’re so mean,” he grinned.  

They made their way to the curb and hailed down a car on twelf. 

“Want me to ride with you back to your apartment?” he said, opening the back door of a yellow cab that had pulled up for her.  

“That’s sweet, but trust me, I can take care of myself,” she promised.   

“Text me when you get home safe and sound just to spite me then,” he said from the opposite side of the door.  

“I will. But you better not be awake to read it,” She gave him a lingering kiss before gracefully tucking herself inside.  

“Night, gorgeous,” he winked, and shut the door.  

Her ride had just turned onto fourteenth when Cassian decided against hailing his own despite the cold. It was only fifteen or so minutes on foot, and he could probably do with cooling down.  

Though even if he had to trek through tundra to get home he suspected he’d still find himself burning up under a cold shower in an attempt not to jack off to the thought of Nesta like a fourteen year old.  

Stuffing his already slightly numb hands into his pockets he began walking, his fingers brushing against his phone. He should probably call Rhys back.  

The phone rang for a moment before his brother picked up.  

“Did you decline my call?” 

“Yup.” 

“Bastard.” 

“I’m sure Feyre will kiss your bruised ego better,” Cassian grinned as he walked. “Along with something else so long as she doesn’t hear you’ve been calling me names,” he added slyly.  

“Are you threatening to tell on me to my wife?” Rhysand asked, a little wound up by the allusion to Feyre’s kissing certain places even if he hid it behind an unimpressed drawl.  

“Are you pretending the thought doesn’t have you quaking in your givenchy loafers?”  

“On the topic of not upsetting Feyre, she’s demanding a family dinner.” 

He laughed deeply at Rhysand’s avoiding the question.  

“That why you’re calling?” 

“Partly,” Rhys said. “Work’s been…She wants to be around family right now,” he said with an all too familiar casualness. “You free?” 

“For Feyre?” Cassian said without hesitation.  “Yeah, I’m free.” 

He would just have to pull an all nighter on the Monday. 

“Thank you. And also fuck you for implying if it was for me you wouldn’t be,” his brother said.  

“Well you called me just as Nesta was about to slip her tongue down my throat so-” 

“Nesta?” Rhys interrupted. “I thought that was over?” 

Shit.  

In all the carnage that had been the last week he hadn’t bothered letting his family know he and Nesta were back on. The woman was a touchy subject and he hadn’t had the energy or balls to get into it.  

While Rhys had been able to excuse Elain’s inactivity when the Archerons had been at their financial lowest, he’d never managed to extend that same courtesy to Nesta. Maybe it was because the first time they’d met she’d called him a cradle snatching whore. Regardless, Rhysand pretty much hated the woman’s guts, meanwhile his wife was desperately trying to lure her into the inner circle of the Velaris family.  

Cassian may have been able to bench a number higher than his IQ but he wasn’t dumb. He’d clocked on to the fact his sister-in-law was using him as Nesta bait.  In all honesty he was loving it. Nothing made him happier than helping out his family, and if that meant taking out an intelligent, passionate, stunning young woman, then really it was a double-win.  

Taking a second to grind his jaw softly he was reminded to tread carefully. Not something he generally excelled at, but for the sake of his brother he could try.  

“I know you’re not her biggest fan,” he said. “But Feyre forgave her years ago for bailing-” 

“Well Feyre’s a better person than I am.” 

“I’ll say. She set me up with a smoking hot model, meanwhile you’re trynna cock block me,” he tried.  

“You can put your dick wherever you want, doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

“I guess not,” he ground out. Itching to hit something at the implication Nesta was just “somewhere to put his dick”.  

“Cassian if you want to date a biblical plague in human form knock yourself out, seriously, god knows Feyre will be thrilled. And Azriel, your moping-” 

“I don’t mope,” Cassian interjected.  

“Fine, your stropping-” 

“Fuck off.” 

Rhys’ laugh was about smug as the bastard’s crooning voice.  

“Mor’s gonna kill you by the way. You put a two grand dent in her wine collection over a woman you took back the next week.” 

Cassian groaned, wiping a hand over his face. The only thing worse than the hangover he’d had Monday morning would be Morrigan’s laying into him on this.  

“Don’t you dare tell her,” he warned.  

“Fine but you’ll have to do it before next Sunday, you’re bringing Nesta.” 

“Hang on a minute-” 

“Feyre wants a family dinner and if you and Nesta are back on that means she’s coming,” Rhys said.  

“Boy you are asking a lot of me here,” Cassian sighed dramatically. “I mean I can think of a few ways to persuade her but most of them are illegal in a lot of countries,” he grinned.  

“I don’t care if you have to roofie her and strap her to the hood of your car, just make sure she’s there.” 

“Alright, alright Don.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Rhys growled irritably to Cassian’s delight.  

“What else were you calling about then?” He smirked. “You said dinner was only part of it.” 

“I wanted to ask how things were going with Helion,” his brother said. “Any update?” 

Cassian sighed heavily.  

“This a secure line?” 

“Always”. 

“The hit’s Eris,” he said. “Apparently Saoirse does pretty well for herself if Helion kicks it and it’s looking like she won’t last the year. When she goes Eris takes the lot so he’s trying to take Helion out before he can change his will.” 

“That little bitch,” Rhys interrupted.  

“I’m not done. Guess who Helion might be transferring that inheritance to?” 

“Is Azriel going to finally have the funds to build that sex dungeon?”  

“Not quite,” Cassian said. “The money’s going to Lucien.” 

“Lucien?” 

“Turns out the kid’s his.” 

“Fucking hell.” 

“Seems obvious in hindsight to be honest.” 

Rhys was silent on the other end for a moment as he evidently thought through matter.   

“You said might, is he waiting on a paternity test or something?” 

Cassian winced. “No. No he’s dragging his feet about changing the will altogether.” 

“Why the fuck is he doing that there’s a bullet with his name on it!” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Cassian hissed, trying to keep his voice down. “I’m the one whose gonna have to jump in front of that bullet if he doesn’t get his ass in gear. But he…he’s losing the love of his life, Rhys. I’m trynna cut him a little slack-” 

“Slack Eris is going to have someone strangle him with.” 

“I’m handling it,” Cassian promised.  

Rhys went silent again.  

“We could always just kill Eris.” 

Cassian would have laughed at the unrestrained glee in his brother’s voice if the suggestion hadn’t been so tempting.  

“No you can’t,” he reminded him, ascending the steps to his front door.  

“Sorry, sorry, you probably want plausible deniability and all that- which is a shitty reason to leave a family business-” 

“What are you talking about? I left because I don’t like any of you.” 

“Dick.” 

“See it’s that kind of thing that made for a hostile work environment I really couldn’t foresee a future working under,” he grinned, unlocking the door.  

“You taught me words far more creative than that growing up, monte de merda-” 

“Desenmerda-te, and don’t cuss at me in Portuguese carcamano.” 

“I’m fucking Persian!” 

“Tell that to your pale ass like unbaked garlic bread, minchia,” Cassian retorted in Italian as he tossed his keys onto the skirting board and shrugged off his coat.  

“A fanabla!”  

“Love you too, tell Feyre I said hi.” 

“See you and Nesta on Sunday, I’ll text you timings.” 

“No shop talk okay, she still doesn’t know anything about-” 

“I know, I know, it’s not me you have to worry about. Feyre keeps asking me to hire her.” 

“As what? Has Cosa Nostra began dabbling in the modelling industry under your direction, baby brother?” 

“If I said yes would you come back to us?” 

“I’m a one woman man, Rhys.” 

“Jesus, it’s been less than a month.” 

“At which point you and Feyre were engaged.” 

“Nesta’s no Feyre.” 

Yeah, Nesta has enough wit about her to know you can’t go round offering Mafia jobs like candy, he thought to himself.  

“Whatever man, I’ll see you then.” 

“See you then.” 

 TAG LIST

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[fairycosmos]

lmao im actually so desperate to die im considering swallowing two peach pits just to see if i will choke to death because nothing else ive tried has worked so far . you know what my life doesnt fucking matter ill do it. with my luck it wont work i feel im being punished and thats why i cant die. ill do it. if i dont get back to you something happened but i doubt it. im tired like you said i deserve peace. we do. bye maybe i hope this works this is pathetic but im desperate to die

hey, i'm really sorry to hear you're feeling this way. it seems like you're totally overwhelmed right now and i completely understand how debilitating that can be. i know there's nothing i can do or say that will really change how awful it feels, and you're probably not in the headspace to read all this. but if you ever want to come back to it, it'll be here. maybe you could try some of these grounding exercises, here / here and here beforehand to get you in a place where you can focus a little. it's alright, there's no rush or pressure. i just wanted to say first of all that this is not pathetic in the slightest. sometimes the world gets on top of you and you go througn so much trauma and hurt that it really does feel like giving up is the only option. people can only take so much, and i get it. that's the trick of the suicidal brain though, i think. it uses life's suffering and your own past experiences to convince you that it is always going to be this way. to romanticize death and make it into something it isn't in your head. it is actually very hard to die, as i'm sure you know. and it's not the peaceful option or escape you're looking for, either. and the most paramount thing i want to say is that your life 100% does matter. this was never up for debate. you were born with an inherent worth and it hasn't went away just because you can no longer see it. you honestly can't fathom how you've impacted peoples lives, directly and indirectly, and even just the world itself. you don't have to be anybody but who you are, i promise, the whole point is just having the human experience you're having. you're fulfilling your purpose by existing, no matter how hard it is at times. i think it's a good sign that you reached out to me, i honestly think it shows that you have a lot of self awareness regarding what's going on and that you're truly capable of asking for the help that you need. you're not in a place right now where you can trust your thoughts and feelings, so it's good to seek an objective perspective from somebody else. this state of mind is so transient, it's so intense that it's not built to last. i'm not trying to downplay how unbelievably hard to live with, of course, but it can be freeing to acknowledge that this is not all there is, no matter how difficult it is to endure currently. you deserve to be here and to exist in a way that heals you, no matter what your mind is telling you. there can be a variety of underlying causes for suicidal feelings, and obviously they're very serious issues that need real medical attention in order to begin to overcome. but with that and with time, it is totally possible to learn to live a full live along side all you've been through. even though right now i'm sure that's the lastthhing on earth you want to do.

are you currently working with a mental health professional of any sort? your doctor, a therapist, a support group, even a hotline? if not, i would really urge you to get in touch with them as soon as possible. and if you already are, let them know where your thoughts are at lately so they can focus on upping your level of care. if you're worried about money, there are cost-effective choics available, like finding a therapist who offers a sliding scale price, or looking into mental health resources within your community. i know your brain is probably screaming at you to do the opposite, but i promise any baby step in the right direction is going to pay off. the prospect of reaching out and being honest is a daunting one, and i'm only bringing it up as something to consider at the moment (or when you feel able to) so please don't write it off all together. you don't have to do anything right now, just know you have options. you honestly do. and talking to someone really is not as bad as your brain is probably building it up to be. just like with physical illness, mental illness can be confronted and treated. it's all about learning how to manage your unique mind, and even if it takes a lifetime, it is so possible to lessen the frequency of episodes like this. or to become more prepared for them so they feel less erratic when they do occur. discussing about what you've been through, pinpointing root causes of your suicidal thoughts, learnng how to implement healthy coping mechanisms into your daily routine, building a support system, finding the medication for you if needed - all of this is going to make a tangible difference. it is not going to fix everything, obviously, but it is going to lighten the weight and broaden your perspective on yourself and on living. you deserve to be supported without judgement and with genuine care, you deserve to be listened to. there are a lot of people, professionals or otherwise, even just strangers like me, who are willing to filling that role for you.

idk how it is for you and i won't pretend to, but sometimes suicidal people don't want to lose their lives, they just want to stop living the way they are. with so much chaos and unresolved pain and exhaustion. you don't have to hurt yourself in order to get there. i know when you're in this mindset, any even slightly positive piece of advice just feels impossible to believe. but even if you can't seriously take it on board at the moment, i hope when you're in a more grounded place, you can at least consider as an alternative to absolute hopelessness. you may as well, because you are alive and that is not always going to feel like a curse. it is so hard to believe it, i get that, but it is a fundamental truth. you are in an extremely difficult moment but that is not your whole existence. the future is ever changing, and you've already made it through the past, so the only thing that really matters is this moment. focus on what you need, not what you want, but what you need to do right now to truly self - prioritize. even if that feels like the last thing on earth you want do. if self destruction and self harm was gonna make you feel better, it would've by now. welcome the idea of trying something new, maybe just the notion of attempting to guide yourself through this with a bit of self-compassion. please, if you feel like you are an immediate danger to yourself, please exercise any sense of self preservation/ survival instinct and call the authorities, a hotline or a friend/family member right away. no matter what bullshit your brain is telling you, no matter how heavy your heart is right now . everything is always always always changing and things are going to change beyond recognition, it's the one thing you can count on. you deserve to stick around to see it all, and once you've made the decision to do so, you won't feel so stuck and conflicted anymore. i'm going to leave some links that i think might help a little in this moment, but like i said, please call someone if you feel you can't be alone right now. i'm rooting for u a lot and i really hope you are able do the right thing for yourself. if it's all too hard, focus on getting through the next hour. if that's too much, the next minute. and if that's too much, the next second. break it down into what you can handle and let yourself live. and then just go from there. sending you all my love.

list of hotlines

coping with depression

coping with suicidal thoughts

so you feel like shit?

template for creating a safety plan

[thiswasinevitableid]

Can you do 60 for indruck, NSFW? Thank you so much! Love your work!

Here it is! I set it in the same world as this sternclay fill. Credit to @bellafarallones for playing in this space on discord. Apollo is from my Super hero AU

“All I’m sayin is it seems mighty unfair to me that one fella gets a handler-assistant type deal and the rest of us don’t.” Duck crosses his arms as Ned fiddles with the pen on his desk.

“You’re not wrong, dear boy, but Apollo was in high demand from the higher ups-”

“Because he’s a shallow dipshit with a mean streak who’ll be good for ratings?”

“Precisely. He demanded in his contract that we allow his twin to continue his work as his photographer and assistant. He has over a million followers on Instagram, so those photos will be a boost to the show. Just try to get along for the camera’s?”

“His brother ain’t even on camera.” Duck mutters.

“I meant with Apollo.”

Duck shrugs, defeated, “sure thing, Ned.”

As he walks back to the main house, he mulls over the fact that the twin (Indrid, he thinks that’s the guys name) bugs him more than Apollo does. Apollo is vain, mean, and selfish, but at least that gets him things, even makes sense for the kind of show they’re on. Indrid gains nothing by helping him out here. Except protection from the bully, which Duck finds to be the worst kind of cowardice. Hopefully Vincent, this season’s bachelor, will see through the “influencer” and send him packing ASAP.

-------------------------------------

Four weeks in, and this is exactly what Duck was worried about. Not only is Indrid hovering around his brother like a nervous moth (excet when cameras are near, at which point he ducks out of frame), he’s doing fucking nothing to reign him in.

A few frontrunners are starting to emerge, and with that claws are coming out. Barclay, a chef and all around nice guy, is the target of choice. Nico and Josh both took bites out of him this morning. But Apollo sunk his teeth in like a dog on a fox, calling him, among other things, a pathetic, six-foot puppy dog who no man would ever want. The cook left noticeably teary eyed. Duck was about to block the cameras from following when Joseph beat him to it. Which is weird, because he thought Joe couldn’t stand Barclay. Apollo flounces off, but Duck corners Indrid where he’s been stoically watching his brother be a raging asshole.

“What the fuck man?”

‘Wrong twin.” Indrid says flatly, indicating his silver hair, tied back in a half-bun. His dark roots are showing and his eyebrows are black, unlike Apollo’s immaculate blonde dye job and bleached brows.

“Nope, right one. You’re his handler, cant’ you fuckin intervene when he’s doin’ shit like that? Or are you just here to let him hurt whoever he feels like?”

Indrid fixes him with a bitter smile, “If there were a way to make my brother be kind or, indeed, see others as people, don’t you think I’d have found it and used it everyday since?”

“I-”

“You people have no idea how much I’m already doing. I kept him from going after you yesterday by reminding him he looks ugly when he yells on camera. And if nothing else console yourself with the fact you all have only to deal with him for a few months. Some of us have endured twenty-eight years of it.”

With that, he turns and stalks from the room. As he leaves, Duck can’t shake the thought that his black denim jacket and worn jeans fit him better than Apollo’s designer ones ever could.

-----------------------------------

Indrid understands why there’s so much alcohol on set, but he can’t partake (too bitter) and it makes Apollo even harder to handle than usual. Which is why Indrid is out on the grounds at ten p.m, intending to hide from his brother until dawn.

At six weeks in, fan favorites are getting more established and Indrid, needing to predict Apollo’s mood in order to do his job, is keeping a close eye on them. His twin is well-liked for being snarky and hot, though he suspects the large number of contestants means there have been limited chances for his unpleasant side to be showcased. Joseph is another, because of course he is, movie-star handsome with an interesting past. Barclay is beloved for the very things that the other contestants torment him for. And Duck? Duck is quickly becoming the one people think Vincent will choose.

Indrid thinks they’re right. He’s charming in an understated way, funny, and while Apollo needles him for his “dad bod,” Indrid and Vincent have both noticed the muscles in his arms. Who gives a damn about flat abs? Indrid would much rather have something soft to rest his head on while those green eyes look lovingly down at him. His crush on Duck is useless, persistent, and must be hidden from Apollo at all costs.

His foot catches something solid and he tumbles over the obstacle to land ass-first on the lawn.

“Ow.” He glares at the object. The object turns out to be Duck Newton, who's obviously drunk as he sits up.

“Sorry man, thought no one’d come out here. Oh it’s you, it's, uh, fuck, fuck c'mon” he snaps his fingers as he searches his thoughts, “It's cute Apollo!”

“Indrid.” Surely Duck didn’t mean to use that adjective. Right?

“No, I’m Duck?”

He snickers, “No, I meant I’m Indrid.”

“Ohhh, right. You're Indrid. I'm Duck. That's the big dipper” He points at the sky. Indrid follows the line and grins, delighted.”

“It is!”

“Uhhuh. C'mere, can show you more.” Duck pats the spot beside him and lays back. Indrid scoots closer and reclines as well, making appreciative sounds each time Duck shows him a constellation.

As they’re studying the sky, the other man whispers, “Can I tell you a secret? I, I think Joe’n Barclay are into each other now."

“The way they look at each other is not exactly subtle.”

‘“Heh, yeah.” he links his hands across his belly, “I think they're in love. You ever been in love?”

“No.” He sighs, not wanting to dwell on that pile of baggage, “You?”

“Nope. And, uh, don’t, don’t tell anyone but I don't think I am with Vincent. Maybe I could be? Does that make me a bad person? He's nice, think he likes me a lot but, I, I dunno.”

“Not being in love with someone doesn’t make you a bad person. No more than loving someone does.”

Indrid is hard to surprise; years of getting out ahead of his brother and father taught him how to see things coming. But nothing could prepare him for Duck rolling to hide his face against Indrid’s chest. Not knowing what else to do, he pats his back, notices a woodsy scent tingling his nose.

“You smell good.” He winces; that was too creepy, now Duck will pull the comforting bulk of his body away.

“Thanks. I bought a bunch of cologne when I realized I was actually going to be a contestant. News clothes too. Thought it would give me an edge but...I dunno, can't compete with a guy like your brother.”

“Join the club.” Indrid reaches up to toy with a lock of Duck’s black hair, expecting Duck to bat him away. Instead, he sighs and turns his head to give Indrid better access.

“You could compete with ‘im. You're cuter. Nicer too.”

“Oh. Ah. Thank you.”

Duck’s fidgets with the mothman pin on Indrid’s jacket, “You wanna cuddle?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No one cuddles with me. And we ain’t allowed to cuddle Vincent yet.” He looks up, lips pouting just enough to be charming.

Indrid let’s a purr enter his voice, “That’s a shame. I’m happy to cuddle.”

Duck rolls more of his body onto Indrid, resolutely nestling his head under his chin and tangling their legs together. His hands stay on Indrid’s chest and shoulders, though he’s now drunkenly petting Indrid’s collarbone, making him shiver. He expends four months worth of daring in a second, wrapping his arms around the curves of Duck’s torso. When Duck’s fingers brush skin instead of shirt, Indrid whimpers, then bites his lip and prays it went unnoticed.

“You don’t get cuddled much either, do you?” Duck murmurs thoughtfully.

“No.”

“Damn shame, you’re real good at it. Can cuddle me any time.”

Indrid “mmhmms” knowing the promise is like the stars; bright and comforting in the darkness, but ultimately beyond his reach.

Three day later, he drops his guard; Apollo’s been on his good behavior since Vincent’s been spending more time with him. You’d think Indrid would learn by now that all his venom has to go somewhere.

He’s huddled down in the rec room trying not to cry; it’s pathetic enough that he let such childish insults get to him, but to cry over them would confirm everything his brother said.

“Indrid? You, uh, you okay?” Duck’s reflection in the darkened T.V approaches his own.

“I'm fine.” It’s the same inflection he’s used hundreds of times, but Duck sits down on the couch all the same.

“Do you, uh, need a hug?’

“No.” He replies a hair too quickly.

“Do you want one?”

“......Badly.”

Duck opens his arms and Indrid shifts on the cushions, doing his best to curl his long limbs so they’ll fit in his embrace. The shorter man notices, concern flashing on his face.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Okay. You, uh, wanna hear the most exciting news of the day?” He waits for Indrid to nod, “there was a cougar sightin’ in the foothills near here!”

“That is both very exciting and alarming.”

“Doubt it’d go after folks, they try to steer clear of people. We don’t have ‘em back home, but you learn what to do when you’re also learnin how to deal with bears.”

“How does one deal with a bear? Other than buying them a drink.”

Duck snorts, relaxes further into the couch, “Depends on how soon you see ‘em…”

They emerge two hours later, and Indrid is so engrossed in their conversation about hiking incidents that he runs smack into a camera man. While he’s apologizing profusely, Duck guffaws, steadies him, and leads him off in search of somewhere to watch the sunset.

-----------------------------------------

“Oooh, ooh, look, sea lions!” Indrid points to the distant wharf.

“Good eye. Man, those fuckers are big. Glad none of ‘em were in the water when we did that fuckin cliff dive.”

“I for one would pay good money to see my brother chased by a sea lion.”

Duck chuckles, pops the tab on his WhiteClaw. They’re having dinner on the beach, a gourmet spread meant to encourage them to show off their pallets. Indrid took Barclay’s recommendation and ordered the whole, grilled snapper, which he assumed he’d be eating alone; Vincent’s attention has been on Duck ever since he went swimming this morning. Duck seems to be enjoying it, but come dinner time he demurred (“gotta let some of the other fellas have a chance”) and brought his basket of fried oysters over to join Indrid on the sand.

“Speakin of your brother, kinda surprised he didn't make any digs at this whole, uh, situation.” Duck gestures to the torso Indrid is currently aching to lick droplets of saltwater from. To subdue the craving, he licks salt from his fingers before replying.

“I, ah, the last time he tried to, I reminded him of all the pictures I have of him eating. He hates to be seen eating. Most of the time.” He tilts his head towards his twin, who’s chowing down next to Vincent without a care for the cameras. Indrid sets his hand on the warm sand, “I’ve been trying to, well, reign him in as you suggested. Or at least make him think twice about his choices.”

(Indrid omits the part where he’s most likely to risk it if Duck is the one with the target on his back).

Duck sets his hand down beside Indrid’s, brushes sand from the side of it with a calloused thumb, “Mighty good of you. But, uh, think I mighta read things wrong that day. You gotta handle him how you think best. Just, uh, just promise me you won’t sacrifice your own well-bein’ for my sake, or anyone else’s. We’re all grown-ass men; we can handle it.”

“I promise.” He lies.

The other man leans back on his hands, green eyes drifting across the waves. Indrid would gladly sit in silence the rest of the night, it’s so easy to be comfortable in the lull when it’s Duck filling the space beside him.

Eventually, the ranger murmurs, “It’s so fuckin breathtaking. The ocean, I mean. Maybe if you live on a coast you get used to it but man, it is somethin;.”

“More so than the forest?”

Duck smiles, “It’s like apples and oranges. Monongahela got its own charms; you’d have a blast takin pictures and drawin there, believe me. If, uh, if Apollo and I both make it to the final four, uh, maybe we could take a few hours durin’ my hometown visit and I could show you my favorite spot.

Indrid imagines the two of them beneath the trees, walking hand in hand.

“I’d like that.”

---------------------------------------------

“You know you’re just a distraction, right?”

Indrid doesn’t look at his brother, just flips the page in his book, “I doubt that. You’ve said, often, that I’m too off-putting to be interesting.”

“Not when there’s competition for someone superior; Duck knows he might not win. You’re his back-up if he doesn’t, and a way to kill time until the end. Once Vincent sends him home, which he most definitely will, he’ll keep you around until something better comes along.”

“Don’t act like you know him.” Indrid hisses, looking up just in time to see something scurrying behind the triumph on Apollo’s face: fear.

So, his brother has a new weakness. He’ll tuck that away for later; this is shaping up to be an unpleasant conversation, but not one requiring quite that degree of weapon.

“You should thank me. If I weren’t so captivating, Vincent would spend all his time with Duck. Then you’d be without any attention at all. Even Duck’s taste isn’t that abysmal.” He grins his several thousand dollar smile, “he and Vincent are probably laughing about it right now.”

Indrid stands, crosses the tiny room, “Shut up, Apollo.”

Then he slams the door. There’s a yelp, followed by “you hit my nose, you pathetic excuse for a man, ow, open this door this instant I’m not done with you!”

He flicks the lock and sits back on the bed. There’s a tin of sensory putty on his nightstand and he opens it, playing with it between his fingers. Duck brought it for him after a museum date with Vincent. The image of him not only thinking of Indrid when he saw something, but then buying it for him just to see him smile makes him want to grin and hide his face in a pillow like a teenager who just got asked to prom.

But maybe this date is going differently.

Indrid squeezes the putty, repeats the mantra he’s had since he was a child, “Apollo always lies. Apollo always lies.”

Eventually, he’s calm enough to work on some tattoo commissions, is coloring away when there’s a knock on the door. A secret knock Duck invented as a goof. Throwing open the door reveals the shorter man wearing a suit jacket and an exhausted expression. Indrid gestures to the bed, shuts and locks the door as Duck slumps on the mattress and sets his head in his hands.

“Whelp, that was a shit-show.”

“What happened?” Indrid sits cross-legged beside him.

“Vincent went in for a kiss and I, uh, I turned him down. I mean, he took it well because he’s a sweet guy but I, I feel like shit.”

“There’s no shame in not wanting to kiss just yet.”

“That ain’t the problem. I, I wanna kiss someone on this set, but it ain’t him. Indrid” he looks up, green eyes watery, “Indrid, I think I’m fallin in love with you.”

“Oh. I, are you sure-”

“The whole night, and I mean the whole fuckin night, I was thinkin about you. Thought how nice the trip to the botanical gardens would be with you there to point out color combos and get excited about butterflies. Wanted to hold your hand over dinner. Fuck, when they brought out the dessert menu all I could think was how fun it’d be to order one of each thing to surprise you so you’d do that thing you do with your hands when you’re real excited.” Duck turns, sets his hands on Indrid’s shoulders, “‘Drid, if you don’t want this, I’ll back off but-”

Indrid cuts him off with a kiss, let’s strong arms pull him down to the bed and presses as close to Duck as he can, as if any space between them might be a way for the universe to push them apart.

“Than fuck” Duck pants, cupping his face, “wait, fuck, what do we do now? I can’t string poor Vincent on.”

“We’ll get them to let you out of your contract. It can’t be that hard, right?”

--------------------------------------------

“Absolutely not” Ned shakes his head, “dropping out of the show is out of the question.”

“But that ain’t fair to any of us. Can we at least tell Vincent the truth?”

“No, it needs to look as if he naturally decided not to choose you. If not, we could be accused of manipulating results; the last time that happened, the ratings tanked for that season and the next. And my predecessor was fired.”

Duck looks at Indrid, “Guess I’ll just...pull back? That way Vincent won’t have a reason to choose me and’ll let me go soon.”

----------------------------------------------

“Droppin out is outta the question, huh?” Duck mutters to Indrid as they watch Barclay and Joseph walk off holding hands, the host eagerly asking them questions as they go.

“I suppose he didn’t drop so much as sprint.” Indrid glances at the rose in Duck’s hand, “congratulations on making the final...well, final three now.”

“Thanks? Guess Apollo’s pretty happy about it too.”

“Yes, but his ego needs no stroking.” Indrid smiles, “maybe this means you’ll get to show me the woods?”

“I hope so. Huh. What are they gonna do with the rest of us when it’s not our turn for the hometown visit?”

The answer turns out to be: drag everyone to each hometown. Because they no longer have Joe’s trip to do, Ned decided they needed more scenes of the contestants exploring where their competitors came from.

Kepler is first, and tonight is the night Duck’s been dreading. His romantic, home-town date that everyone expects to end with at least some kissing. He manages to make it through dinner, even enjoys showing Vincent the down-town he spent years roaming. But as they start down the river walk for a romantic stroll, his heart is trying to smash its way out of his ribs.

“It’s alright, you know.” Vincent stops, guiding Duck to face him, “the fact you want to be with Indrid.”

“I, uh, fuck, I, I don’t not know, uh, fuck-” he closes his eyes, “how’d you know?”

“I’m more observant than I get credit for.” Vincent brushes his cheek, “I’ve had a hunch for weeks now, but I kept you around because I liked having you here, even if I suspected it wasn’t going to end with us together. I’m very fond of you, Duck. You deserve someone who makes you happy. I promise I’ll send you home this next rose ceremony”

“Christ” Duck chuckles, “you’re a hell of a guy too, Vince. I hope whoever you pick treats you right. I, uh, can I, should we…?”

Vincent plants a chaste kiss on his cheek, then smiles, “go get him.”

----------------------------------------

“Any twos?”

“No. Go fish.”

Apollo grumbles as he takes another card. Given Duck and Vincent are on their date, neither he nor Indrid is having a good night. Before Indrid can make his ask, his twin says, “How do you get people to like you?”

“Why do you care? You’ve made it this far, so obviously Vincent likes you a great deal”

“I don’t just mean him. I, I mean, I want him to like me. To want me. But I suspect he’d like me better if other people did.”

Indrid idly taps his cards, “I suggest you stop acting like our father.”

“I’m nothing like him!” Apollo squawks.

“Oh, but you are. Everything he taught us you still hold as true; you’re just the newest version of men like him. Self-absorbed. Cruel. Shallow. I’m amazed you’ve gotten this far with Vincent, given that the age difference means you’d be caring for him in his old age.”

“I, I can care for him. I will!”

“Apollo, I wouldn’t trust you to care for a potted plant.” He sets his cards down.

“At least I’m not a-”

“Ambitionless deviant who has to ride his brother’s coattails to survive?”

“Wha--how-”

“Like I said; you’re just like him. Down to your insults.” Indrid stands, “I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same.”

His brother remains speechless--a rare state for him--as he closes the door and heads for his room. He doubts Duck will do anything on the date (hell, the two of them have only been able to steal some kisses now and then), but the whole charade has him feeling low.

There are far more cameras in the rented house than there were a few hours ago. Which means the rest of the crew is back. Does that also mean…

“Hey, sugar. I was just lookin for you.”

--------------------------------------------------

Duck’s glad his door is open, because otherwise Indrid would have smashed it to pieces dragging them both through it. He’d only gotten out the barest explanation before the taller man was kissing his face and tugging at his clothes, purring “mine” over and over again.

“Yep, all yours.” He shuts the door as Indrid mouths at his neck, “which also means you’re all mine.” He yanks Indrid’s black sweater up and over his head, sends the matching t-shirt after it a moment later. Indrid whines, fumbling with Duck’s dress shirt, and he gets an idea.

“Uh uh, only good boys who show me why they deserve it get to feel me up.”

Indrid groans into his shoulder, fisting the fabric of his jacket “What constitutes good behavior in this instance?”

“One sec, don’t go nowhere.” He starts to step past him, pauses to grips his chin and pull him into another kiss, “and no peekin.”

As he digs through his bag for the strap on he brought just in case, he keeps an eye on Indrid to be sure he’s following the directions. The taller man’s fingers twitch, but his head stays still. God, Duck is going to memorize the shape of each of the tattoos decorating his skin with his mouth.

“You did real good.” He slips around Indrid once more, resting his back on the wall. Indrid notices the new bulge in his pants and thuds to his knees.

“May I?”

“You better.”

Indrid undoes the button of his fly. Then he looks at Duck over the rim of his glasses as he takes the zipper between his teeth and pulls it down. When the black silicone of the strap breaks free, Indrid cocks his head as if unsure of his options. Duck doesn’t really have a plan--he just wants to be with him, to make him feel good and show him just what weeks of pent-up desire have done to him--but he’s starting to regret that choice.

Indrid flicks hair from his face and wraps his lips around the head of the cock experimentally. He hums, sucking on it a moment, then pulls back blushing, “This is going to sound strange but, ah, I, I really like that. It’s such a lovely texture on my tongue, it’s, it’s almost soothing to suck.”

“Guess you better keep suckin it then, huh?” Duck runs the fingers of his right hand through Indrid’s hair.

“Is that really alright? It can’t feel like much on your end.”

“Don’t mean it ain’t fun to watch. But, uh” he touches the edge of Indrid’s red glasses, “it okay if I take these off?”

Indrid nods and Duck slides them free, tucks them into his breast pocket for safekeeping as Indrid draws the cock into his mouth again. He focuses on the head at first, humming and moaning as it bumps his cheek. Then Duck sees him swallow and relax the muscles of his jaw as he presses closer. Little puffs of breath tickle Duck’s skin as Indrid gets most of the cock in his mouth, cheeks hollowing and head bobbing as he sucks. Hungry noises burlbe up his throat, and the more he lets himself go the messier he becomes, spit coating his lips and eyes fluttering closed in bliss.

“Okay, I lied.”

Brown eyes shoot him a disbelieving look.

“This ain’t fun. This is one of the hottest fuckin things I’ve ever seen.”

Indrid wiggles happily on his knees, left hand dropping to rubs his own cock through his jeans.

“Needy little thing, gotta have somethin down your throat and around your dick at the same time.”

“MMMhhmmm” Indrid purrs, the picture of filthy perfection.

“If, if you swallow the whole thing, I’ll let you finger-fuck me.”

Both hands fly to his thighs with an excited moan. Indrid’s brow crinkles with determination as he slowly, carefully brings his lips to the base of the toy. Duck groans out “good boy” and shoves his pants down, Indrid helping to drag them to his ankles. Indrid keeps his left hand on Duck’s hip while the right hovers below his folds. Duck takes it, the toy making the angle a bit awkward, and guides it against him.

“Start with one.”

Indrid nods, moans reverently as he obeys. Duck curses, looks down to find Indrid watching him attentively. Duck is going to wreck him. Then he’s going to cuddle him to sleep and wonder at the fact he got this lucky.

“You’re doin’ great, sugar. Promise I’ll tell you if you need to adjustOH, ohyeah” he lets his head rest against the chipped white of the door, “that’s the spot. Fuck it, add one more, Ahfuck, yeah, those artists fingers are fuckin perfect for this.”

Another purr and then a sharp, choked noise. Duck looks down, realizing he rolled his hips without meaning to. Before he can apologize, Indrid grips his thigh and shakes his head.

“You like that?”

“Mmhhmmm” Indrid traces a heart on his belly.

“You’ll pull off you need to?”

“Mhmmmm.” Indrid curls his fingers as his stretched lips manage to grin.

“Fuck!” Duck giggles, “okay, if my darlin wants his face fucked, that’s what he’ll get.” He keeps a hand on Indrid’s shoulder as he lets loose, grunts and curses mingling with the increasingly wet moans of his cock claiming Indrid’s throat. Soon he’s out of words, too busy with the sight of himself forcing Indrid’s lips apart as he tightens around his fingers. Handjobs are a toss-up for him most days; sometimes they work, other times he can’t cum from them at all. It turns out what makes it very easy to do so is-

“‘Drid, fuck, fuck, sugar, yeah, right there, rightthererightthere ohfuckyeah.” He cums, jerking his hips hard enough to punch a new, high sound from Indrid’s throat. The other man pulls off, rests his cheek on Duck’s belly with shuddery, satisfied sighs.

“Y’know” Duck unbuttons his shirt from the bottom up so Indrid can more easily nuzzle the skin there, “I had this whole plan where I was gonna fuck you with this and then ride your face to cum.”

“I’m not opposed.” Indrid grins, bouncing a bit.

“Yeah, but I’ve only got one in me tonight. So” He tosses the shirt away, pulls off the harness as Indrid nibbles his hips, “if you wanna cum, you’re gonna have to do all the work.”

An edge enters his smile, “I can manage that.”

Duck hits the floor with a whump, Indrid trapping him on his back and climbing atop him, all the while kissing him with abandon.

“May I fuck you?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Condom?”

“Dop kit, bathroom, aw come back.”

“Patience, sweetheart” Indrid blows him a kiss, returns a few moments later doing an inelegant dance to kick his jeans and boxers away, “got one!”

“Good, now get back down here before I-AHfuck!” Indrid is on him and in him so fast it knocks his breath away.

“Before what? You’re not going anywhere, you’re mine, alllllll mine.” He drags kisses across Duck’s cheek, then bites his chapped lip as he looks down at him, “right?”

“You know it, nnng, fuck, that’s it sugar, be a good boy and cum for me. Fuck, darlin, wanted this so bad.” He locks his fingers into silver hair to keep Indrid in kissing distance as the other man whimpers, thrusts shallow and rabbity.

“Want you too, so much, I’ll be worth it, I swear, I’ll be good, I’ll, I’ll make you so happy.”

Duck rests their foreheads together, “You already do.”

There’s a high, gasping moan, almost like a chirp, and Indrid rides out his orgasm in drawn-out rolls of his hips. Then he collapses, laughing, on Duck’s chest.

“I, I’m sorry, I just never thought I’d get this. Someone wanting me. Choosing me.”

“I mean, I went on a T.V show to find love, so I know a little somethin about that fear. But I also know findin you is better than anythin I ever imagined.”

“Likewise.” Indrid nestles closer, one hand reaching out to hold Duck’s where it’s flopped on the rug.

“...You realize this means there’s a fifty-fifty chance your brother will win.”

Indrid shrugs, lifts his head to smile at Duck, “I leave that to Vincent. I already got my prize.”

[thunderxthighs]

I’m so tired

It's been two months of this. Living out of motels, looking for work, trying to find resources, begging online for help to not sleep on the streets, clinging to hope that this is just temporary, that I'll find a way out, and if I'm being honest I don't know how much longer I can take it.

Every post about my situation that I circulate yields less of a response, potential employers still aren't calling me back, I'm facing down the very real possibility that I may have pushed this as far as it can go and I may very well have to start sleeping on the streets this weekend, and I'm terrified of that.

As long as I can stay in a motel I feel like I still have that sliver of hope that I can turn things around, but once I'm on the street I lose any hope of finding and holding down a job. But even if I got hired today, I'd still need to find a way to pay for a room until I got paid, and after that pretty much everything I earned would go to keeping that room, assuming the job is full time and minimum wage (which is high in my area, but so is the cost of living), so it would still take months before I'd have money for deposit on a new place. It's depressing, but that's my best case scenario

But once I'm on the street I feel like there's no coming back, there's no way I'll be able to find a job much less keep it if I don't have access to showers or a place to keep my things, or even a way to keep the rain off.

So the closer I get to Sunday with no way to pay for even one more night in this room the more I feel like my life is over and I'm angry and I'm tired and I'm so fucking alone and I just want to be done, I want this to be over.

Its not fucking fair. I've never had any real sense of permanence or stability in my life, and I want that so bad but its always been out of my reach no matter how hard I worked or how badly I wanted it and now its farther away than ever and I cant even get back to just getting by.

I left my biological family behind years ago for my own sake but my brother found me recently to tell me that the grandmother who abused me had died, I think he expected me to be sad. Well I once expected him to have my back against the abuse I faced from our family for being queer, so disappointment abounds.

He told me he wanted to help me when he learned about my situation but I haven't heard from him since, all our conversation did was give that little voice in my head that tells me that they were right about me more fuel. Maybe I am just a greedy, selfish failure of a person, maybe the problem is that I really am unlovable in the long term, maybe I deserve this.

I know logically that's not right, but I can't shake it.

I haven’t spoken to any of my friends in.. I honestly don’t know, clocking the passage of time is something I’m really struggling with rn apart from “this many sleeps till I have nowhere to sleep”

and I’m really sorry for that. It might surprise you to hear I’m really struggling with my mental health /s. There’s something wrong with my brain that’s convinced that they all hate me now so it’s best if I don’t talk to them, and when I go into a shame spiral because they asked a simple question about how my job hunt is going, I guess I can’t really fault them for not reaching out, I can’t imagine I’m easy to talk to right now.

some I know I’ve pushed away reflexively because I read rejection into their frustration and only realized in hindsight what I’d done, and by then I felt it was too late

If you’re reading this, I’m really really sorry

I also don’t want me to be like this

I don't know what the point is to me writing this, I'm just tired and I feel like if anyone hugged me right now I'd shatter into a million pieces.

This isn't a goodbye note, I'm just sitting here thinking about checkout on Sunday morning and freaking out

[strawberryspeachy]

So on the last day of july i went clubbing

Almost immediately met a cute boy and he asked me to go to a hotel with him. I debated but ultimately went with him. He asked if i wanted to go on a date because fucking japanese assholes equate date with hotel.

Went. Hooked up. Then. He said he wanted to go back to the club because otherwise “it would be a waste of his night”

Yeah

So... went back.... watched him look for another girl. And felt like shit

Eventually a boy that was ok looking talked to me. I didnt ignore him and he got excited over me talking to him after having ignored other boys. I didnt intend to continue talking to him but he was so excited the entire time and was nice so i just stayed with him.

We left together and sat on some sidewalk and talked. I saw that both his arms had cut marks all over them

And as a fucked up person... i stupidly think that other fucked up people will be as empathetic as i try to be and my depressed friends back home

He told me some of his shitty homelife - apparently he doesnt have parents

He asked me to go to a hotel with him and i said no... so we went to eat instead...

He kept being overly nice (in words) told me that he works at an old folks home and that he wants to learn english and come to america and help me take care of my mom.... in a sudden way

Rationally im not stupid and know that was a line. But im pretty stupid in general

He kept asking me to be his gf and i told him id need to go on a date with him to decide that

I just wanted to say no but...

He didnt pay for my meal - ya im one of those girls that that bothers

We seperated and he continued to text my the next few days. We set up a date. He asked me to go to him in yokohama - an hour away from tokyo

Since id never been there i said yes. But this meant i had to pay an expensive train ticket

He did pay for dinner and afterwards convience store for me... mostly... asking if i had change

He wanted to drink at the pier and insisted i get a drink but didnt pay for it

And then took me back to his apartment

It ended up being fun

The next morning while he was showering i was just poking around at his stuff. Not actually looking for anything just curious about the things he has

I looked at his wallet (honestly to see the design but i also always wonder why japanese guys are so comfortable leaving money around who is generally a stranger)

And then. I found. Picture from a photobooth. Him amd soem girl. It was dated from a week before.

He told me the night we met that he broke up with his ex a year ago. But this picture looked very much like a couple

I asked him about it and he just said sorry and threw it in the trash (not a real trash. It could easily be taken out) he said it was from a year ago

After. Bit i took it out amd pointed at the date. He literally hummed and refused to comment ...but he told me hell only see me...

I shouldn’t take that as enough but i did and told him when i got home that ill only se him too. I told him i liked him - and to this point he kept saying he likes me over and over. He has not said it since this. Just said he was happy that i used his name.

After that i went to okinawa for a few days. He told me his sim card broke and he doesnt have wifi unless he goes to a convience store (as an excuse to text slow)

I got back the next week and stayed home all week from a yeast infection that i think he gave me. When he barely responded i told him that

Then he responded continuously telling me that i just got it on my own and hes healthy so it wasnt him

That weekend i went drinking with some friends and messaged him. He responded immediately and i called him. Asking when his phone got fixed. He told me the day before

Then he told me he has pink eye and sent a picture. He said he cant go out of his house because of it

The next week was my birthday. He said hed be cured the day after and we could celebrate. Then he cancelled saying the doc told him hes still contagious

A few days after he sent me a picture of him with makeup on and contacts in saying he went to the salan. I responded immediately asking if he was still contagious and tried to call. He ignored me

I tried to call more throughout the day

Nothing

Over 24 hours pased so i used another account to say hi to him. After 2 hours he responded to the fake account asking who it was

And i flipped the fuck out. I told him a bunch of reasons why he sucked and that he did and fuck him

Then he responded to me with long messages. Many of which i couldnt understand (hes used incorrect kanji before that which makes translation strained)

His excuse was that he felt sick and slept for 20 hours (but he ignored me for over 27)and that he wanted to answer his texts in order. That he doesnt look at him phone much and then got mad at me for not being worried about him and instead getting mad

He didnt addresss any of my complaints like the fact that if im his gf i should be a priority

But because im a sucked i felt bad for trying to hurt him and apologized.... he said hed forgive me if i buy him an accessory next time we hung out...

Yeah. Red flags. I too if i had other options... would have said. Thats a weird way to accept an apology.

Also before (on that first date) when we talked about our bdays cause his was a bit before mine. I asked him what hed wanna do as a late celebration. He immediately told me he wanted yakiniku (an expensive meat meal) and clothes or accessorys from an expensive brand he likes...

So he continued to take over 24 hours to reply to me. With very small responces - he never asks me questions. I asked him to call the night before i went camping and he said he couldnt because he was too drunk from drinking with friends. I went camping and came back and got him on the phone. I demanded him to call and he said he couldnt cause he was tired from work and would the following day

I told him it makes me upset that he doesnt talk to me and that i constantly dont feel good because of him. He just said sorrry. I planned to say this is over if he didnt agree to meet me. But he agreed to a date the coming sunday... the day before i began work again. He said hed come to tokyo and and had a plan. It sounded fun.

Well come sunday morning.... he cancelled. He said he didnt have money. I tried to call him several times and he ignored me.

I confronted him in person. He got mad at me for it. Said he got some sort debt collection and got frauded... someone used his name to take out money and he has to pay court. He said he doesnt have money because of it.

I asked why he never tells me whats going on with him (because im dumb and beleive this... actually i dont. I hope hes being honestly and just has really bad luck but)

This time like last time i told him the way he treats me is how really awful boys who are using me and playing with me treat me. And i cant trust him if hes like this but doesnt tell me why

Well...i was there... i offered to pay for out date.... besides the 11 dollars it takes to get to him

He asked me to put 5 dollars on his train card.... it takes 3 dollads to get to and from where we went. He... mad sure no matter where we would eat it would cost 40 bucks - wanting to drink alc and such. It costed 43 dollars. He wanted starbucks but i kinda said no by saying i dont rlly like starbucks - but he still wanted to get a dessert - 3 dollars

And... he wanted me to buy him that aftermentioned accessory... a ring. He looked at very expensive ones... i... would not have paid for even as stupid as i am.. the one he got was 15 or 25 I forget which...

The thing is... if he wasnt actually... if i wasn’t comfortable being with him i woulda stopped this before... unfortunately. As usual. Despite initially not being attracted to him i really enjoyed his company and find him to be fun...

He said that we should go home at 8 i asked about going back to him place and he said no because hes tired and has work the next day. He knows i also do too. At the same time. And i tried to convince him and he kept saying no. Then i asked doesnt he wanna have sex. He said that we should go to a hotel. And i protested that hotels are expensive and his apartments free and just a cheap train station away. He said hes too tired and just wants to sleep at his apartment but hotels are exciting so hed be awake at a hotel.

He pushed them and i said at that point id be spending like 100 dollars on the day and he knows i also dont have a lot of money.

We awkwardly went to a manga cafe that was only 5 dollars but it wanted you to make a card that costs 5 more dollads. And then i got fussy because too much stress literally makes me lose control of my emotions.

It fucking sucks and i hate it. I have no fucking control over my emotions when my stress is bubbling (which it almost always is) and boils over.

I asked him if he can even pay just the 5 dollars and he said he has no money. I asked how hes gonna get to work with literally no money and he said his conpany pays for it (yea japanese conpanies pay AFTER you go )

We left. It was a bad mood. He didnt storm away from me even though i was basically crying in the street (i have had this happen with even friends. I start crying and they just walk away so even though it should be expected of someone claiming to be your bf... ya)

Anyhow i told him i just wanted to cuddle and talk and kiss

He looked annoyed but i guess he thought those wants were cute and looked for a isolated place

Because were in japan

Couldnt find one cause we were in a city and he again just started saying lets go home. That hes tired and not in the mood.

But we were in a quiet enough play.

And im bitching here but ill take a quick break to say i kept hugging him and stuff which he liked despite saying he was really embarrassed

He told me ealier ok that because of this debt thing hes gonna work two jobs

Which. Terrified me. The first guy I went on a date with in Japan asked me to be his gf and to move in with him and said he had to work two jobs for a month to afford to move so he wouldnt have time to see me. He told me his progress for two weeks and then ghosted me.

This boy told me hell make time to see me when i complained about not doing anything physical when i wouldnt see him again for who knows how long

Welp. Todays saturday and that was sunday. And while at first i thought he was trying because he replied to my messages in or at 24 hours for a few days. Its gone back to the 17 hours

And i asked him to talk on the phone

And he just said not tonight because after his current job hes working at home too

And because im dumb ive waisted my whole saturday waiting for him to reply and crying.

[taki118]

Manga Rec: Hatarakanai Futari (or The Jobless Siblings)

 Hatarakanai Futari ( or The Jobless Siblings) is its about 20 something NEET siblings, their friends, their parents and the daily lives and its just so fucking pure and wholesome just go read it. But if you’d like some context and a few spoilers by all means continue reading. 

So the Jobless Siblings  are younger sibling Haruko and elder sibling Mamoru they live with their parents and generally just screw around all day. 

Haruko starts the series as very Hikikamori like as she seems to have some serious social anxiety and fears even leaving the house since graduating high school. She is also very money conscious though in an odd way she’ll often comment on how much clothing or haircuts cost in comparison to video games and food. While she starts out as a very shy, self conscious and clinging to her brother like a typical younger sister in anime she slowly shows her true colors. That being a dense, easily tricked wanna be prankster with a habit of speaking before thinking but generally means well. As the series goes on Haruko appears to more lazy than cripplingly shy and even goes to places outside the house of her own accord with other people. I know that sounds weird to praise but trust me as you read and see her grown into her own its so heart warming. Even if her growth is makes fart jokes to a person she originally was too afraid to speak to. 

Mamoru is not your typical NEET. He has friends, he leaves the house, he talks to strangers he’s kind of a mystery. It’s revealed as the series goes on that he went to college, worked jobs and traveled a lot before becoming a NEET, and it really seems like he could just get a haircut put on a suit and get a job one morning if it suited him. He’s easy going, sarcastic, a joker, but all in all a good guy. When you read the series unlike Haruko who you watch grown you get to get excited as more aspects of Mamoru are revealed and your insight of him grows.  

Also I’m pretty sure the author gets a kick out of subverting expectations with the siblings relationship. Yes Haruko looks up to and admires her brother but she’s also willing to toss him under the bus to get out of trouble with their parents or play a joke on him. And yes Mamoru dotes on and shelters his sister but he also pranks her and makes her own up to her mistakes. And anytime you see a trope coming comedy follows such as this. What i’m saying is they feel like actual siblings.

Despite their NEET status the siblings have a semi good relationship with their parents. Their mother is rather strict and yet she also adores pranks. The mom wants her children to start being real adults and is typically annoyed by their antics (most times) but while she appears to have given up on Mamoru she often pushes Haruko to at least learn to be a wife. Their father despite working all the time is more laid back, he’s happy enough with the fact that his children are good people and figures the pair will find their place in their own time. 

Now i mentioned friends well these are the reoccurring characters and give so much of series heart warming moments. Let me say this if platonic relationships are your jam this series delivers. But there are two friends who make up the main group. 

First we have Maruyama He’s an employed idiot, a bit of a perv but good hearted all the same and originally only Mamoru’s friend. He’s the butt of many a joke and has some douchey nice guy moments but the story always makes sure to dunk on him for it and he learns his lesson. He starts the series slowly getting Haruko to warm up to him, and even seems to have a bit of thing for until they become friends and he sees she has a personality as awful as her brothers it goes away. Regardless he still hangs around them.

Rounding out the group is the siblings neighbor Kuraki she’s your average overworked office lady but since moving in next door to the siblings she finds watching their antics through her window at night relaxing. Slowly she grows a desire to interact and slightly spoil the pair as a thank you of sorts. Eventually she joins them on their antics and as such her mood improves so greatly her coworkers notice. She ends up becoming a sort of mentor/guide to Haruko and is one of the few people who can make her willingly go into a store.

The relationship the 4 share is just so sweet and pure. And becomes the main focus of the series. They do things like play games, go walks, prank each other, and just talk about any random shit that enters their heads. And i do mean shit poop jokes are a recurring thing in the series, but the joke is less poop itself but that they think poop is so funny. But its just so wholesome how much hanging out together means to them all

But outside the main four each have their own little friend groups

Mamoru and Maruyama often hangout with their friend Endou. He’s nice and easygoing and is fairly in sync with Mamoru the pair often teasing the hell out of Maruyama. He has a girlfriend who is a massive troll and i really hope she appears more. Despite the two often picking on him they both acknowledge that Maruyama is a good guy and defend him often. They just want him to be less of a perv and ass. 

Then there’s Haruko funnily enough she had friends all through her school life often falling in with people no one else liked. Bringing us to Yuki & Tomoharu

Yuki is a very tall, very strong and very shy girl. She often got into fights in high school cause she was basically made to. While she like Haruko has very high social anxiety, she herself is a college student and does not want to be a NEET basically because her father is one. Yuki often tries to get Haruko to go shopping with her as she wants to appear more fashionable and cute usung food as a bribe but the pair fail to even enter a store.

Then theres Tomoharu. He is described many times but people as being very good looking. He goes to school has a part time job and is over all very normal, so you might wonder why he was friends with Haruko. Well he’s gay, but if you ask him he claims it was just a phase and he’ll totally have a girlfriend next time. Only to get a crush on a male member of the main cast (not gonna say who) Haruko and Yuki were the only people to stand up for him when he was outed in school and the pair still support with Haruko often saying she’ll keep a look out for a good guy for him though he denies wanting one. Either way when all three hang out Haruko and Yuki often rely on him.

They keep expanding the cast little by little but it never feels like too much or odd as they all naturally fall into the story. Such as the father’s coworker who he often tries to set up with Mamoru. She’s a deadpan intelligent type and is also friends with Endo’s girlfriend. But the thing is you aren’t annoyed that this girl is very obviously Mamorus match you actually cant wait or the pair to cross paths. And that’s how you feel with most of these characters. You just want to see how their personalities will mesh together.

But the best part of this series is simply seeing how people live their lives. While yes that’s the point of most slice of life series this one feels very natural. Everything is just sort of aimless and pointless but so is life. People will suddenly reappear in your life and you’ll spend time getting to know them again or you’ll spend a night pondering something pointless or shop for something you know will make a friend happy or try out something dumb you saw on tv. 

Its just such a relaxing enjoyable series with characters you want to see more of. So go read it.

[readbythestarlight]

c2e41

I can’t believe it’s time to find out the consequences of Fjord’s accidental mistakes and bad decisions

lol I almost panicked when Travis wasn’t at the table like he HAS to be here for this

I like the “oh nos” coming from the rest about Sam’s ad

SAM NO

LOL MATT’S FACE

Sam doesn’t know what any of his Scottish means he probably just insulted his own mother

He’s gonna give Cad Molly’s necklace IT’S FINE IM NOT EMOTIONAL EXCEPT I AM

Wow okay Cad and Caleb can y’all chill and not give me emotions? Thanks.

B: *hands over Frumpkin*

C: “You have three or four more days you know”

B: “DO I?!” *grabs Frumpkin back and sticks him in her pocket*

I sure hope Sprinkles is alright after almost drowning along with the rest of them, poor thing

FJORD WAS HER FIRST SEMI-KISS

This whole interaction is super cute im dying

Fjord listen no pressure but try not to break her heart

Nott somehow always makes me a little sad

LOL oh this advice Nott. Amazing.

lol the clerics spoiling Matt’s plans for a supply stop

YES GOOD PLEASE ACQUIRE THE SKILLS NEEDED FOR SAILING

Marisha looks so excited

JESTER NO CRUSHING UP YOUR DIAMONDS FOR TATTOOS DO YOU UNDERSTAND

y’all need those

for revivifying or whatever

listen though, they absolutely all need matching sparkle tattoos someday though I want it real bad

OOO are they gonna do pirate shit??? Attack the ship and steal stuff?

This is a test if I ever saw one

Guys don’t do it please it’s such a bad idea

I just feel like Avantica is testing Fjord with basically everything

Guys please just don’t

Cad’s right it’s a bad decision

FJORD

YOU

FUCKING

IDIOT

FJORD IS A FJUCKING FJOOL

this is such a bad idea

Jester giving him the salty shoulder

“I feel like this is somehow connected to your previous bad decisions” yes Cad please keep shaming him

lol Not going crazy with the canon stuff

oh damn fjord

lol buddy Nott doesn’t even need that anymore goofy boy

Sam’s gonna roll really bad and Nott’s gonna hit the ship I can feel it

A NAT 1

okay it didn’t fire okay

Nott darling you’re going to blow up your own ship

“fire boy! go, gogo!”

“Alright, so you owe us a canon.”

Oh lord

20 thank god

SHIIIIIIIPS

They’re gonna end up with wanted posters when they get back to shore

Fjord honey what are you doing this isn’t even like you. Is this about gaining Avantica’s trust? At what cost??

Caduceus the Cool Calm Guy

God this is just… so bad

I’m serious they’re going to end up being wanted criminals

fjord

why the fuck did you give him your real name

Caduceus is the only smart one, hiding his face

stop using you’re real names Fjord for fuck’s sake be smart

Caleb plz stop

oh god guys this isn’t worth the trouble

this is gonna be so bad im so on edge

this is where the fight will break out

Jester what are you going to do oh no

Poor Liab

JESTER YOU CANT TATTOO SOMEONE AGAINST THEIR WILL

here we go I hope you’re ready to live with your bad decisions Fjord

Are they even considering that whatever this magical item is, it’ll probably go straight to Avantica?

“I don’t trust Avantica” Beau says to Caleb through Frumpkin while members of Avantica’s crew are present.

Frumpkin being able to attack is cool as frick I like that

Don’t die Frumpkin

“twelve renegade points, one point paragon!” lol Matt

I like how Beau’s like “we’re trying to be good people” but then threatens to slit his throat. Like FYI Beau, threatening someone over something you don’t have a right to, that you’re STEALING, after ATTACKING THIS GUY, is not how good people act.

Beau leave him alone

Seriously

Somehow this was only a minor disaster. So far. If they don’t end up with wanted posters because they’re pirates I will be shocked.

I don’t like anything that Avantica approves of. I don’t trust her.

She knows. She so knows they’re hiding something.

Caleb so cute talking about cats and books

They need to not look right now. They need to put it in the bag and leave it until they get far away from Avantica.

PAPERRRR

The Not There Fairy, cousin to the Metagaming pigeon

Ohhhh Beau you gonna get a tattoo like Molly’s??

Okay… darling… but maybe not an eye though that just seems like it’s inviting trouble

“But you know he’s dead” WOW

IT’S THE BARBIE RAPUNZEL PAINTBRUSH

Jester. I’m begging you. Save that paint for when y’all actually need a door.

(Also @Taliesin just tell us all what Molly would think of it please Inquiring Minds want to know)

Let Caduceus have the shield

I hope you all feel like guilty fucks tbh that was just not necessary

Oh no mediocre perception check….

Beau please don’t try sneaking into her office my god that’s a terrible idea

lol Laura you little shit xD

“You should seduce her” and Fjord’s over here like lol right uh sure totally that’s a good idea uhhuh

B: “I think if we don’t do anything, it means your eventual demise.”

F: “Well that’s… fucking dark.”

At least they’re finally thinking and really really realizing how bad things are for them right now.

Cad: “If we want to find the ship I think I can help.”

F: “With the seducing?!”

Cad: “What…? no!”

Beau really wants to seduce Avantica.

Caduceus with his naps. He is me.

Fjord and Caleb conference! It’s been a while.

MMMM I LIKE THIS

“Have you ever sacrificed anything to achieve a greater goal?” OHHH FJORD IF YOU ONLY KNEW

Talking about Papa Widogast

“I have tried to live up to the man that he was, and I have… largely failed, but I picked up what I could.” IT’S FINE IM NOT CRYING (yeah i am).

“I think traveling with all of you has emboldened me some. I was alone for a long time. And I… I like this group. I like traveling with you, Fjord.”

Okay Fjord what are you trying to get at now?

FJORD TRUSTING CALEB TO WATCH HIS BACK WITH AVANTICA my heart

oh.

“can i count on you to… right the ship, if need be?”

oh i don’t like the sound of that at all.

I don’t like this conversation

What is Fjord asking? That Caleb take him out if need be? That he makes sure the group gets out if Avantica manages to kill Fjord?

THE TRAVELER

I don’t trust him at all

J: “We’re pirates”

TT: “I know. :)”

TT: “That seed of chaos” DO NOT LIKE

“Well there are many different enchantments—“ RED FLAG RED FLAG BIG RED FLAG

he’s such a creep i hate him someone protect jester from him

he has literally gotten more and more creepy every fucking time

this is absolutely a sinister voice Matt is using too

“Preferably where it will be the least expected… and the creepiest to find” okay that was kinda funny

“the time is coming soon when you will meet the rest of your brethren” DO NOT LIKE

Like I’m not sure he’s EVIL but he creeps me out and I don’t like him

Fjord dream Fjord dream Fjord dream

Fjord dreaming about them bare naked ladies.

From ocean to sky to ocean again.

I don’t think I like this.

Watching, learn, reward.

Nope don’t like.

Smart move grabbing the map

But shit, did Avantica see the same place? If she was in the dream too I bet she did.

Nott, my darling, can you not

LOL

MATT YOU TRICKSTER

a handful of pepper made into a pepper bolt

“The Revelry” oh lord it’s a pirate colony with a court of captains or something isn’t it. Like in PotC3.

Or like Tortuga.

“The Plank King” I KNEW IT

pirate court

Avantica is absolutely gonna challenge the Plank King?

“Welcome to Dark Town” thanks Matt

I’m loving all this history/lore stuff Matt is so good at this kind of thing.

“Takes some notes” I do NOT like that

Poor Orli and the crew.

I thought for sure Avantica was gonna stab Gimati.

Caduceus really wanted to have some Words with Gimati.

B: “Marius the Mariner…. LePua…. LePain….?”

Cad: “That was really good, do me! :D”

B: “Caduceus the… Juices…?”

Listen, Fjord, guys, you owe these people. You hired them and then dragged them into SO MUCH SHIT you didn’t tell them about. And you can’t just leave them here, or refuse to pay them

Like you hired all these people and dragged them into your shit and now you're like "you can keep working for no extra money or you can stay here on pirate island" wow Fjord I’m massively unimpressed. Like I know the whole moral leanings of the whole group have been shifty but come on. This is really not cool.

“By the way, you guys are members of the Revelry.”

So first they joined a crime lord's syndicate and now they joined a pirate gang

*insert faceplam gif here*

Uh-oh…

James Tybalt, assistant to the Plank King

lol Fjord is the worst pirate, forgetting to deal with the money.

As much as I enjoy having a less than perfectly heroic group, I do wish they'd try to be just SLIGHTLY less awful sometimes

Harpy jerky as a gift. I love Nott.

Yasha is very Done with all of this.

Cad: “I serve nature and I’m the maker of fine graves.”

N: “I just love water so much.”

Y: “I like to punch things?”

Hnnn why notes

I’m glad y’all didn’t ALL give them real names

Oh lord, so now if they attack Avantica (and don’t manage to kill her and everyone else) they’ll have the Revelry after them

They’re super doomed

Oh

Oh lord he took the previous king’s hair

Oh man don’t try hitting on Beau

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh SHIT he asked Beau to keep an eye on Avantica and to snitch on her

That’s good. That’s a good. They finally have something going for them (as long as Avantica doesn’t find out)

God this night was a continued disaster. But it was super good. Stressful but fun.

“How did this happen?” The question we all want to have answered, Sam.

“Good shit, Matt.” Agreed!!

[disanddatmedia]

I'm going to fucking cry,

seriously.

I have an condition, PMR is what I was told but I don't fit it exactly, and Im now in flare up #2 in this month of july, my employer is demanding a doctors note and my GP is SUPER busy, but I need to see him because he knows what these flares up are to me, he knows the history, and apparently other doctors at that office fuck me around, and if I don't get this note to stay home since I barely can stand and walk, I'm worried ill lose my shitty job, despite being the worst fucking job ive ever been at, I need it, because I've looked and theres nothing better that I can physically/qualified to do, and its sad because my current job gives out the absolute minimum compensation possible legally for a 40 hr week, i didn't even get a second fucking shirt until i was there for 1 year and 7 months, my grandfather dies? I get a max of 3 days off unpaid per year because thats the government minimum, no raises (even when i had every goddam right to ask and get one), no benefits, no fucking nothing, just minimum wage and a fuck you, and I cant find better. since the cost of gas and groceries went sky high ive been stuck at around 2000+ in visa debt (was ZERO before the price hike) because 90-97% of all that is from groceries, gas, medicine, important shit, and I have no way to pay it back, ive been spending as minimum as possible and putting as much as possible from my paycheck into it but it always goes back to 2000+, and I cant get a second job because Im already maxed out basically from my other job.

I was told by my doctor that I have to have less stress in my life ad maybe it will be less often that i get flare ups. HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSE TO DO THAT! I kmow he means well and hes probably right but how the fuck am i suppose to do that? my biggest stresses are (in order): Financial, work/job, mental health. Im not able to get any fucking help with fucking any of it (even mental health, to see a psychologist, it be almost a year, when i asked if i could any sooner, i was told that it is usually 5 year wait)

And ill be honest, if i wasn't renting from my sister but instead a random fuck, i be homeless by now, my rent is cheap because theyre not looking to make money off of me and she cares bout me. but if i had a random? rent be higher and i wont be able to pay for it unless i literally straved.

there is no freedom in being poor, only pain, suffering, and hell.

I get told to get a better job, but fucking how? there is nothing.

i get told to get a second job, how? i can barely make it through the 8 hour shift 5 days a week.

i get told to go back to school, how? Im already in debt with the bank so they're not going to want to loan to me, also i cant even get my mental health controlled which includes learning disabilities, and then its also a matter of what i can actually get into because its been like 9 years since i was in school, i didn't do that well, and im not going to get accepted into anything unless it too is a job thats minimum wage

i get told to be smarter with money, I can't exactly do more than I already am, im doing everything i can to get out and its not happening anytime soon (also owe my father 2000, at least he understands my shit position)

go talk to a mental health worker? Im trying, i cant afford paid therapy and psychologist so i have to wait forever for one i can see for free

this is not living, this is not getting by, this is suffering, and this suffering is from higher ups in government and corporations, they do not care how im doing until i am camped outside there area, which it will be only to kick me out and destroy my shit

cons dont care, its always "get a better job, pull yourself up by the bootstraps" but their is no fucking bootstraps, and my body is getting more and more fucked to where if there was straps and if it was possible to do it in general, my body is too weak to do so

living and existence is suffering in hell with no way out

i hope to find an out but im very doubtful at this point that their will be

[nova2486]

More thoughts.

Nothing makes me want death. I'm dead inside enough already. I'm going through some shit fuck I don't wanna do anything but sit and not think about my fucking life. Last year was nothing like this, jesus christ what happened? I dont know what to do when I'm being torn between two houses and two parents. Two schools. The life I've known and the life I dont want to learn about but might have to. Two people and I'm not sure if I love either one or not. The doubts of my current fueled by the thoughts of the new. I hate the thoughts going through my head on a daily basis because of the things that are slowly ripping through my life with a gleaming new blade. I cant take this shit anymore. My mind is everywhere and nowhere. But how? Is it? Am I just being stupid? I'm aware I'm whining but who the fuck is going to read this anyway. I have so many people but I feel like I have nobody. I don't want to bother people with it because every single person either creates bias in my head without even trying, or what I want to say pertains to them. If I had my own transportation and money I'd see somebody about this but I can't in the state of living I'm in. Too expensive. Everything too expensive. Conserve water, conserve electricity, conserve fucking everything because I'm worried it costs too much. Don't go to fancy restaurants. Too expensive. Too rich for me. Too many people with enough money to make me think about how I'll never amount to anything in my life. I can do so much, but with what drive? I'm barely driven to do my fucking homework. I have the drive to go places but will I once I'm driving myself? Will I have the motivation every single day for the rest of my life once I don't have the push of a parent telling me when to do things and being the only thing getting me places? Paying for my activities? I need to get a job, I think. Pay for my own things. Is that the key to freedom? Owning everything that's yours? Not having another person paying for the food you eat, the clothes on your back, the roof over your head? But how would I work with the schedule that I want? What boss would give me time off to do the hours of theatre that I want to do? That's where I question if a job is a necessity, or a desire for money. I can't stand the thoughts. Every single one. Schools back, more thoughts. More thoughts. Seeing my current, more thoughts, more doubts. Talking to the new that threw a fucking wrench in the gears of my head over the phone, more thoughts. Can't take it. Too many thoughts. Can't make it. Too many thoughts. People that know me, that talk to me, that laugh at my jokes and make me laugh from theirs. More thoughts. More worries. More insecurities. I'm being dramatic but who's gonna read? Who will listen to some teen on Tumblr who's giving too much information? Better to be nobody. Better to be left alone in a post that falls in a forest when nobody's around. Does it make a sound? Hopefully Itwill bring no change. Hopefully it will bring no sympathy. Hopefully it will bring no hate. Why would the writer want any of this. The writer wants to be left alone with his silent tree rotting in the ground with his mind. With those thoughts that keep coming, bleeding out onto the grass. Seeping into the ground. Never to be found. Thank you for your time forest. Hopefully you won't have to listen to my silent ramblings ever again. Hopefully you will see me in the wild. Sitting, more thoughts coming along. Never stopping. Always being eaten away with my choices that I have to make to keep my life steady, for I must live. To show strength. Thank you for your time, please don't help bring more thoughts.

I have enough to drown in already.

[thismads]

                                                                                                                                                        @thishail

 HELLO BABY, you saw that coming right? you knew this whole thing was going to come up at some point right?? OKAY I hope you are okay, that you grabbed a coffee, Chinese,pizza,chocolate, anything you love just like i did with skittles lmao..because I tried to not be too long but I can’t promise you anything because there’s so much to say about you that I'll let my hands/heart/soul guide me haha..so take a sit and appreciate me being cheesy pleaseeee. 

(this gif is the perfect one hahaha)

(us being happy around each other)

Okay so it’s only 19:20 and I’m beginning this cause it might take a while hahaha. And I actually make it right and perfect..even tho I’ll never be as perfect as you are but WHO CARES? I put ur playlist on, so you’re with me so LET’S DO THIS (cheesy mood activated so be ready to cry..just kidding SMILE BEAUTY) 

(us on vacation)

First of all .. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE !! Tell them it’s her birthday, tell ‘em souljah boy, tell em hahaha, omg who knew this day would be that important to me last year around the same time.. like this is crazy how life goes. I hope you’ll have a beautiful day surrounded with your loved ones bcus you deserve it. But for now..let’s go back to the time we met alright?? 

It was in late October, early November this past year.. I was this girl talking to everyone & you came back after being gone for a while (still have no clue why you came back but bless this thought) I was the only one replying in the instant bc I was like oh a Selena anon..let’s do this. And despite a few delete posts..we always made one for each other bc we actually noticed we didn’t talk and somehow..we both missed it even tho we weren’t THAT close. I don’t know when it began to be strong.. we spend more and more time being on at the same time bc LAME asf lmao. THEN, we became this popular kid squad LMAO idk why..but if it’s bc we showed love to each other..then okay we are lmao. But I’m thankful for everything..bcus actually..we took time to learn who we really were..and we took time to appreciate our numerous common points…and our different ones. You were, are, will always be THE meeting I’ve had in years in a social media..and why? Well because of all those.

(us being happy around each other)

You are so down to earth..I think that’s one of the main reason why I Love You, you never search to be someone you are not, you don’t care about people’s past, you concentrate on knowing them in their « now » and that’s remarkable, you are so real, you are like speaking the truth all the time, you are the one I go to for advices, because I value your opinion like I’ve rarely did in my life, everything that you say is true, you respect the lines, you don’t ask much, you are like a rock we can hold on to whenever we are down or up. I had laughs with you I’ll cherish until I die. 

You are also so sweet..but like the sweetest person I’ve ever had the chance to meet. You are like a cloud, so light, your voice is like the cutest/smoothest ever, you know some people are like invasive..you actually make ME wanna share things with you, you know..EVERY TIME I feel sad, down, something happened, someone letting me down..I tell you first..and you’re actually the only I tell things like on the instant, and some thing I know I’ll share only with you because ..idk I want to. I don’t think we are able to explain how deeply we love people..because it’s beyond words, it’s feelings. 

you’re so funny/awkward as I am, that’s why we get along so freaking well, you understand me when I don’t know what to say, you get me whenever my typo let me down.. You are like « I got you babe » and this is like the most overwhelming message ever because you actually don’t force yourself, you just know, when I don’t even I feel bad you are like « are you okay » and it makes me asking the question to myself and I’m like dang she is right I ain’t okay lmao. You are also hilarious, we have fun about everything

you are like a second mom to me, you care if I go to bed late, if I eat, if I shower, if anything hahaha, you make me smile, happy ALL THE DAMN TIME DAMN. 

I don’t think you realize how amazing you are, because you truly are a gem.

You are also so intimate, like I share inside jokes, we understand each other in a blink of an eye, we most of the time share the same opinion on things, people.. NOT NAMING THEM BUT YANNOOO WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT LMAOO. And this contribute to my daily joy and happiness all day every day. 

You are so caring, adorable, beautiful inside and outside (YES GIRL YOU BOMB ASS GREEK FACE HAHA) CAN YOU BELIEVE I’M ALSO 10% GREEK? LMAO THAT’S SOOO ODD BUT YET IT’S FATE IGHT?? IGHT. So that makes us sisters for like even tho we don’t need no other confirmations that we are, we for sure were separated at birth haha 😂, you are incredible, you are such a deep person, the one we can have serious and deep convo with, because you know things, you aren’t just a paper, you are a whole ass book and that makes all the difference. 

we have so much things to accomplish like; 

TATOOS ! (And some in common) 

MATCHING PLAYLIST (DONE ✅) 

DRIVING FOR HOURS WITH OUR PLAYLISTS ON

TRAVELLING

LIVING IN LA

GIRLS NIGHT WITH HORROR MOVIES AND JUNK FOOD

TANNING IN THE POOL & GRAB A STARBUCKS ON VENICE BEACH

All those things are like a dream to me, and I’m really hoping we can achieve every one of them in a life time. Because what’s better than living with her bff in her dream city & doing all the youth things they are supposed to do, I wanna go to Coachella listening to Theweeknd, beyoncé, and all the rad music that comes on, I wanna take pics with Hailey,Kendall, Demi, Abel, fucking everyone & you because that goal?? I wanna have a job in front of the ocean, were we can work and then go relax on the beach next to the safe house. I wanna buy a life guard hoodie, spend my afternoon shopping In vintage shops, then go to VS and make fun of the body goals of the angels, I wanna buy clothes to match my fresh tan, I wanna be in the front sit with you for hours on the highway not having anytwhere to go go to Disney world, I wanna go to universal and do this movie set tour where we could take pics of the Friend’s couch, I wanna take polaroids of us having fun. I wanna go to Las Vegas and play to this money machine, I wanna grab a burger where I’ll have to order for you because such a baby. I CANT WAIT FOR THIS TO HAPPEN, because that’s where I’ll be truly happy.

(us being our dumbass self)

I also wanna meet you so freaking bad because this is like goal? Cause having a bff that live miles away from you is like nooooot the best thing ever even tho I’m sure you love me for me. V -> Vulnerable, because you have your insecurities that makes me wanna protect you at all cost like you do for me

I -> Irreplaceable, I couldn’t forget you nor replace you with someone else 

C -> Cute !! You’re the cutest human, always THAT thing to say and make the whole world so freaking happy

K -> Kind .. you never anything and anyone for granted, you always have a nice advice, you encourage me, you make me believe in myself, you make me wanna be a good person and be happy

Y -> youth, because you remind of all always the dreams and all the goal I wanna achieve and that’s the ultimate thing about a friendship

ALL THIS to say thank you..thank you for being the person that you are, thank you for the time by your side, thank you for your time, your energy wasted on a person like me, thank you for making me believing in me, thank you for reminding me that I’m not thaaaaat crazy and that what I’m feeling is real, thank you for the kindness of your words and the wiseness of your state of mind, thank you for trusting me into letting me know the real you, thank you because, thanks to you I like myself even more step by step, thank you for NEVER letting me down, you never left me in a split of sec, thank you for being also a tough ball, you are so strong despite your high anxiety that I'll try to light up when we’ll be together, thank you for letting me maturate to your contact, thank you for being here, alive, safe and sound, that you for blessing me with ur angel face, your princess attitude and your bff’s actions. Thank you for everything you did for me, and that’s not our first year meeting yet, and I feel like you did twice more than my longest time friend, so thank you. I love you more than I could ever wish to love someone. I could never thank you enough, but I promise you to be the best version of myself for ya. 

More than bff, more like soulmates..again happy birthday babygirl ! May all your wishes come true and all your dreams being achieved, and I’m gonna make sure to always stay by your side no matter what, because the person I’m the most loyal to here is you and I’d chose you over EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING. I love you angel to my princess. 

To the Hailey to my Kendall, forever

[fairycosmos]

+ i have a job interview tomorrow and i just cant go. its a rlly good job but i just cant. idk why. maybe its my anxiety or me sabotaging myself again. i know my mom will think im a failure. but i just want to keep studying. i want to keep trying. it just feels more important. i want to want be alive before anything else. do you think im lazy?? iknow you'll never anwser this but should i go anway? is it awful that i never had a job? i just feel like a bum. idk sorry for putting this on u.

hey. no, i dont think you’re lazy at all. quite the opposite. i admire you a lot for caring so much about your studies, for wanting to make something of yourself and for continuing to try your best even though you’re going through such a difficult time at the moment. that’s a lot easier said than done, and yet you’re still managing it, which is really fucking cool. you should be proud. and listen, i’m 18 as well, and i’ve never had a job either. it’s super, super common. it’s not like it’s easy to get a job these days, especially while you’re still studying. and just cause you’re older now doesn’t mean you’re singularly responsible for the financial situation of your family. it’s not just down to you to make money, and that’s not your sole purpose in life. also, you’re definitely accomplishing more than i am, seriously. i know the world kind of pushes the idea that you’re only worth something if you’re constantly being used, if you’re constantly providing money or results or good grades. but that’s genuinely not true. it takes years and years to come to terms with the fact that it’s not true, but it’s not. honestly, how ‘well’ you perform from a capitalistic standpoint doesn’t reflect who you are as a person. how you treat others, how you choose to experience life, your interests and your hobbies - those all say more about you than whether or not you have a job. i know you’re not going to believe me, but you being here is good enough. your presence is the most important thing.  it probably feels like i’m lying, and it will for a long time, but if you start letting that idea into your mind, you’ll begin to accept it eventually. 

your parents clearly have fucked up priorities. and i’m sorry. because you deserve so much better than that. having a bad relationship with them will always be shitty, and you’re totally allowed to feel whatever you need to feel about it. anger, sadness, bitterness, fear, guilt. process it all one day at a time. as long as you try to cope with those emotions in a healthy way (letting yourself cry, talking about it, writing about it, practicing self affirmations), then you’re doing fine. but at the same time, there comes a point where you have to realize that your family have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about. they really, really dont. if they only want to acknowledge you when you’re in a top school or when you have a great fucking job, then they dont deserve you at all. they wont even give you a chance to find your balance. seriously. they wont even cut you any slack. you owe them nothing but respect and since they dont respect you, you dont even owe them that. i dont know how else to put it but i cant stress it enough, they’re awful for making you feel so bad for no reason. i know exactly how you feel. and it’s just. like there’s no point in constantly overexerting yourself for the approval of people that are NEVER going to be satisfied. how they feel about you isn’t actually about you. it’s about them, and their own fucked up mindsets. you are not alive to serve them. you are not alive to be exactly who they want you to be, you know? this is YOUR life, not theirs. and it’s the only one you’re ever going to get. so if you have to make a few choices that disappoint them, then so be it. they’ll either get over it or fuck off, and either way you’ll be better off. it’s ok to start making choices for yourself, man. and it may take some time before you work up the courage to do so, but that’s alright too. it’s all a learning process. 

it seems like your anxiety/depression is the real crux of all of this, though. it’s really worrying, what you said in your other ask. my heart dropped reading it. if you dont confront that issue then you wont like it anywhere, because you wont like being yourself. whether you get a great job, or make a shit ton of money, or continue to study. whatever path you take, you’ll only be truly comfortable if you make your mental health a priority. you have to take it seriously. it’s okay to put yourself first, before the people around you, before school and work. because struggling with a mental illness is one of the most difficult things in the world. and you dont have to beg anyone to understand that. are you currently on any medication, or seeing a therapist or some sort of counselor? if you are, is it possible for you to ask for additional support? and if you haven’t spoken to anyone, is than an option for you? even if you just begin by talking to your usual doctor, to see if he/she can refer you to someone? if you’re worried about money, there are low cost/free options, too. it’s just that, suicidal thoughts are not something you just have to ‘put up with.’ and they’re certainly not something you have to deal with alone. others have been exactly where you are, others understand more than you realize. you dont have to hurt yourself outwardly to show that you’re hurting inwardly, alright? if you believe anything i say, believe that. your life is so precious and rare and significant, man. and where you’re at right now truly isn’t where you’re always going to be. you’re not trapped, you have a choice to make. making the conscious effort to seek help, to admit that you need some guidance, will make a massive difference in your perception of everything. if you work closely with a professional, then you’ll be able to create a care plan for yourself, you’ll be able to learn how to incorporate healthy coping mechanisms into your life, you’ll be able to find the root causes of why you feel the way you do. you’ll be able to talk openly about your family, and the way they make you feel, and your worries about the future. all of that will make the pain manageable. there is treatment available. it wont be an instant improvement, but reaching out is a wonderful place to start. your mental health is just as important as your physical health. and of course, there will always be a part of your mind that tries to talk you out of it. there’ll always be that moment of anxiety/fear, when you dont know what you’re doing. but you need to try to look past that, and to have a bit of empathy for your future self. temporary feelings should never stop you from getting the care that you need. so even if you just begin by calling a hotline to see what they think you should do next, then that’s still something to be v proud of.

i know it’s hard. i get it. i understand more than i can put into words. and i know that asking for help is a massive step. i’m not saying you have to make any big decisions right now. i’m just asking you to consider it, consider yourself for once in your life. i know there are days where you feel like living like this isn’t worth it at all. you dont want to live like this anymore, right? and you dont have to, but killing yourself wont solve anything. it’s ok to feel like giving up sometimes. as long as you know the difference between having a thought, and actually acting on it. you dont have to lean into the pain, you can just let it wash over you. your mental illnesses and your family and all of the bullshit is stopping you from seeing how wonderful and worthy you are, how much life still has to offer you. there’s so much you haven’t experienced. there is so much happiness waiting in the future. it won’t be constant, but it’ll become a theme in your life. you have all of the time in the world to figure things out. this is the exact age that you’re supposed to be confused and lost, and to not know what to do. you don’t have to have everything worked out right now. you’re doing so much better than you think you are, i promise. the only thing you have to worry about is taking care of yourself. that’s the only thing that’s truly in your control. you can create a better environment for yourself. you can create a life that you dont want to escape from, and that’s what you truly need. not to die but to re-envision your own existence. it’s healthy to do that from time to time. 

as a sidenote, it’s completely up to you whether or not you go to the job interview. there’s no pressure, there’s no wrong answer. but i just hope you know it’s okay to take things at your own pace, regardless of what your dumb ass family has to say. i think the smartest move for you to make is to put all of your energy into reaching out for help. continue to study, just put it on the back burner for now. continue to look for a job (tho i think smth part time is realistically a better option for you), but dont put all of your self worth into it. more than anything, this is a transitional period in your life. it’s the stepping stone between here and there. uncertainty is to be expected, anxiety is to be expected, but that doesn’t mean you have to handle it all on your own. i believe with all of my heart that you’re going to be okay. you said ‘i want to be alive before anything else.’ you should always hold onto that. you’re so fucking capable, and you’re so much stronger than you realize, dude. i’m not bullshitting. i’m being straight up. keep taking it one day at a time. if that feels like too much, one hour at a time. even getting through one minute at a time is something to celebrate. look at the next 24 hours of your life, and see what you can do in that time to help yourself - fuck everything else. i’m always here if you need a friend, or if you want to talk about this properly. i’m sorry i couldn’t be of more help. if you ever need anyone, hmu. if you think you’re going to do something, hmu. and please stick around. you’re not going to regret it.

http://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines

[defunctblogtobedeleted]

05/27/2021, 05:58 am - new ends, new beginnings

I’m approaching the precipice of departure.

In 4 short weeks my time in North Carolina will finally be coming to an end. I suppose it’s only appropriate that this blog is coming to an end as well.

I always meant to catch up with what quarantine was doing. but getting back together with jill and watching a million shows and playing games weren’t exactly noteworthy writings. Even still it almost seemed like it’d be a cool time piece, since it was a pretty historic event, the year we spent indoors.

Instead I found the inspiration to take weilin up on learning how to code. I quit my job in february, and I’m spending the next year bouncing around friends and families houses hoping to practice hard enough that I can get a good job next year. switch careers. get out of healthcare and into a new field where I can actually take advantage of the potential I have. 

It’s kind of sad to be wrapping this blog up. I never really expected to end it. But to be honest I’m kind of afraid of its continued existence. Not for the personal shame or anything, but for the first time I’m seeking out work in a field where they might try to pore over this content and deem me unfit. 

Pretty weak and fearful a reason. Maybe I am a little embarrassed. Partially of my obsession with andi at the end, moreso my potential objectification and degradation of the physical form. We all need to grow up from our mistakes, but I’d rather my growth continue to be personal and not corporate, I suppose. I just am so afraid of it being tied to my online personas and divulging more personal content than I’m comfortable with. Even more afraid than my fetlife for some reason. It’s weird, my fet is so much more explicit, and yet I feel like it’s so much less compromising lmao. Maybe that’s foolhardy logic though.

I’m really sad. Goodbyes are always the hardest. And the worst part is every time I get sappy and start to cry a little I think of that time at Brown summer camp when I cried in my dorm with the door open and two more popular kids saw me and laughed. I could have been crying about anything, though. Maybe they’re just assholes. But I get embarrassed nonetheless. 

The relationships I’ve built up here in NC I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. I really hope I manage to keep them going long distance. Unfortunately I know many of my smash friends are fallen to the wayside already... bar friends from greensboro forgotten... raleigh friends soon to be departed... but there are the few from each avenue of life that will stay in touch, I’m sure.

It’s sad that many of my thoughts these days are plagued by how frustrated I get with my roommates’ behavior, and moreso how they’re similar to my own and how I regret how I once acted. I wish I had spent more time with Aaron and Ash instead of trying to start those weird streaming ambitions. I wish I had been quieter when playing league and hadn’t kept my downstairs neighbors and jstu up all night when I lived in brewer. I wish I had been a better person when speaking of the opposite sex when I was drunk in gboro. I wish I had been more tolerant and understanding of andi’s mental health issues, and less of a bitch about money all the time. I wish I hadn’t been so shitty to Kailey when things were over and I was resentful and angry, and I wish I had been more vocal and deliberate about the boundaries that I had set, and more understanding when they were crossed because they were so arbitrarily and lackadaisically set. I wish I had done my goddamn dishes the same night I made them dirty at literally ANY other point in my life prior to now. God, I’m such an excuse making lazy fuck lmao. But here we are. And I own all my mistakes and there’s no way to make amends than to continue to become a better person every day. 

It’s too hard to end things. I meant to split things off with Jill at the end of March. and April. and now may. But as excited as I am to move on to independent living and focusing on myself and my work, I really haven’t been able to bring myself to tell her I can’t see her anymore. Why can’t I just be stronger and work harder on myself AND spend time watching shows with her? well poor self control, for sure. Why can’t we continue to see each other long distance or something? mmph. I don’t know. Jill’s character has developed a lot and she really has authentically taken an interest in many of the things I love, and it’s brought us closer together. We put 420 hours into the witcher 3 and it was one of the best gaming experiences I’ve ever had in my life. But I still don’t see us compatible long term, and our sex life has faltered from month to month. I guess I am excited for something new. Will I always? I still wonder if I’m destined to be alone, like my father or (maternal) grandfather. Get it from both sides, I suppose.

To be honest I still daydream that one of my last days here I can hang out with MJ and have a one night stand. I don’t even know why anymore. We’ve sort of stayed in touch through quarantine. The only bar friend who really has, I suppose. But with quarantine that’s as much my fault as anyones. for the first time in my life I’m not seeking people out and checking in, pursuing friendship or time together. But I don’t know MJ still kind of fascinates me. I always wonder what would’ve happened if I had tried to make out with her the first time we met... but alas.

I kind of see this year of being 29 as a redemption arc for myself, academically. See if I can really be successful and actually try, put aside all the social ambitions and dedicate myself to something better. Staying with my friends and family makes it easier, I think. I’ll get to catch up and live with some of the people I’ve cared most about in my life. Sad that I never really felt comfortable asking if I could stay with manu maya and christina though... with their new baby on the way I’m just worried it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to crash on one of their couches. I don’t want to be a burden on them or anything, and I know as good as a houseguest as I intend on being at everywhere I stay I’m just... not... that good. I’m so much better than I was a decade ago, even half a decade ago. I’m finally an adult lmao. But it seems like only in the rearview mirror am I able to see how frustrating a person I am to deal with on a long term scale.

Maybe I’m not as bad as I think... Jill seems to enjoy my company now... But now that I’m unemployed I feel myself starting to fall into annoying greedy money behavior. She offered to pay for me to get sushi a couple weeks ago and really nearly started bawling. I cant afford to reciprocate anymore and it had felt so freeing to actually have a shred of money to throw around with my old job. and it’s so touching that she understands how I feel and really just wants to help me how she can. I’ve finally gotten over feeling like I can’t take anything from her and over my savior complex of trying to help her, but it still feels pretty sad to be the one that needs help again. 

But I guess I did pay for our vacation to lake week, which was a blast as usual. It’s not as one sided as I imagine, it just always feels worse than it is.

Soon things will be better, though. I have confidence in myself that I’ll be successful, and this will be one of the best undertakings I’ve ever done. I’ll find a new path for myself, and reach a new height in this silly capitalist conventional life, and all the happy little tidings that come with it.

Also random thought, but my DUI finally worked out, but I’m not gonna publish that story anyway due to laziness. Just cost another $1000 having to go through trial. Fuck the legal system, fuck capitalism, fuck the government. I’m ready for the singularity to occur and for machines to take over the earth and I’ll just be a little housepet for them, communicating in my scraps of javascript lmfao.

There’s so much more potential than I ever had. Even with my RPSGT and knowing I could go to work anywhere, there was too much inertia here to actually want to move away. Now, I can really go wherever opportunity takes me. And once I find a career somewhere maybe I’ll find new romance and friendship and excitement. But with google moving down here I wonder if I’m just destined to come back, eventually. Who knows.

But for the first time in a long time I’m ready to break free and put my all into becoming something new. 

Wish me luck 💕💕 I’m gonna need it.