#if my ex asked me this either 2 months ago or a year from now I would've seriously considered it

[jakedoxxenvasion]

drunk jealousy

ex boyfriend! jake × female! reader

warning: unprotected sex, MDNI! rough sex, friend with benefits? and more

words count: 997

pt.2

what are we?

three months ago maybe you could act like this but it's all over now but why you keep coming back to him like you're under a spell but he also act the same way. you both end the relationship but two weeks after break up, you find him standing in front of your door.

drunk, he invited himself in and things happen, you found yourself next to him next to him the next day you wake up. "i'm sorry, i was out of my mind. i promise, this won't happen again." a merely empty promise that he made when he woke up, realize whatever he made and he left like it's nothing.

but the next few days he came again and yet you let him in again, either he's tipsy or sober, he's always find his way back to your apartment. shamelessly.. but none of you complain about it.

because sex with him feel so good..

but nothing more than that, he never even mention of getting back together nor being friend with you or just anything but purely sex and fuck. you don't even know what are you to him because none of you mention it at all. everytime he come, he fuck the hell out of you and left, he's drunk he will stay the night and disappear when you wake up the next morning.

"j-jake.."his name slip out of your lips everytime, he look down at you with a smirk. "yeah babe? you like it?"those nickname that never change. babe, sweetheart, love, princess.. but you're both no longer a lover, those just slip from his lips so naturally and he's used to it after those two years both of you spent together.

dark eyes with lust as he fuck his dick into you, your moan echoing in the room, skin slapping sound fill the air. "s-shit i'm close."his hand hovers below your thigh, and picks it up making you scream as he places your thigh on his shoulder, he's in so deep.

you could practically feel his cock in your abdomen, low soft 'daddy' and 'so good' leaves your mouth. your mind goes blank, filled with only the thought of his cock hitting your g-spot so perfectly. "my pretty girl can't form any words, can she? aren't you just fucked dumb babe?"you hummed softly to answer him, couldn't utter a word.

how come sex with him always feel this good, he know your body so well and he just know how to make you feel good. "such a slut for me, huh babe?"his words make you clench hard on his dick making him growl lowly, he's pounding into you so hard that almost make you lose your mind over it. his grip on your hips surely will left marks later at how tight he hold you.

you could feel the intense coil building up in your abdomen, and your fingers dig into his muscles, almost drawing blood from the grip. jake curses loudly, his cock twitching inside you as soon as he feels your pussy squirt all around him. "oh fuck-"

and just like that, ropes of cum paint your walls, and his hands caress your hips slowly as he throws his head back. you could only moan at the warm feeling filling you up, your mind completely lost in euphoria of the orgasm. jake still in you for the next few second before he pull out from you, sighing then he let his own body fall next to you on the bed.

a soft chuckle escape his lips, his barely open eyes look at you before he lean in to kiss you. you never push him away but give in and kiss him back, his hand caressed your cheek so delicately. a soft whimper escape your lips before he pull away from the kiss, never break eye contact and he chuckle again. "so fucking pretty for me, huh love?"

you blink your eyes and smile at him, too tired to utter a word. "so perfect, lowkey wanna make you mine again."he whisper but received no respond from you, "what about friends with benefits?"he asked, he wrap his arms around your body, pulling you close to him and you're practically spoon by him now.

you humming, you close your eyes as you lean your back on him, whatever he want with you, you're up for it as long as you get to fuck him everytime you want. you could feel his chin on your shoulder, sometimes he give you a soft peck around your neck and cheek until you completely fall asleep in his embrace.

for the first time in awhile, when you woke up the next morning, jake is still there laying beside you, sleeping peacefully. you whine softly when he wrap his arm around you and pull you close to him, you heart thumping at the closeness, it feel so familiar. "good morning, love."his deep voice greet, you could feel his hot breath on your shoulder and his pampered you with kisses around your shoulder and neck.

"j-jake.."you push him slowly before you get up from the bed, he give you a confused look. "you will be late for class if you keep staying here like this."nah both of you know that's not the reason why you push him away, you just don't want to be that way with him, you don't want to have any feeling with him again.

a pouted form on his lips but he get up just like you told him to, he had a plan to have second round with you but maybe not now. he left to your bathroom and you sigh as you let your body fall back on the bed, "what about friends with benefits?"his voice lingering in your mind, you might actually consider his offer.

friend with benefits won't hurt you right?

should i make part 2?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being a "cheater" (even though my gf is the one I "cheated" with)?

Title sounds bad, but hear me out. Some background info: I (F25) left a very toxic relationship with my ex (F29) almost a year ago. We were together for 2 years and it was a very tumultuous and rocky relationship from the beginning. She convinced me I needed to leave my home state and move in with her 8 weeks into dating or she would break up with me, and I was stupid and in love and I did it. Then she would always hold the fact that she could kick me out over my head when we argued. I didn't like her taking my clothes without asking? She threatened to kick me out. I get mad that she's blasting her music when I'm trying to work? She threatened to kick me out. Really anything I said that she didn't like, she would threaten to kick me out. Even threw my stuff out on the front lawn a couple times.

And I admit, I wasn't a perfect angel in this relationship either. I felt powerless and resentful because it was impossible to bring up any grievances big or small with her, so I would intentionally break or hide her things. I was downright mean to her most days, and we were both physically violent with each other several times. Towards the end of the relationship I was sleeping in the floor in the living room because I couldn't stand to be near her, and if I slept on the couch she would push me off of it to sit and watch TV with friends she brought home late at night. It took me a while to leave because I was alone in a new state with nowhere to go, and I had to save up money to find a place. Like I said, it was a deeply toxic relationship on both sides, and I'm not proud of it and I'm in therapy trying to unpack what I did and what was done to me.

Now for the actual situation: one of my ex's friends who I'll call Emily (F27) was always very nice to me, and I would often complain to her about my ex and she would comfort me. I'll admit I started to develop feelings for her while I was still trying to work things out with my ex, and I even made out with her and nearly had sex with her once. But that made me feel extremely guilty and I stopped it, then stopped talking to Emily all together.

But when about 3 months after I moved into a new place Emily reached out to me online and we started talking again, then after another 3 months started tentatively dating. I say tentatively because I was very hesitant to go into any relationship after the fiasco with my ex, especially with Emily who is still friends with her. We would text and call each other daily and meet up to hang out a couple times a week.

We've been dating for about 6 months now and we've kissed and held hands, but that's about it. We haven't had sex. We haven't said I love you. We haven't even had a "what are we" talk yet, but Emily wants me to move in with her. I told her I wasn't ready for that. She says it would help both of us save money to live together and I should be comfortable with her by now, since we've been dating triple the time I was dating my ex when I moved in with her. I reminded her how well that turned out for me (not well at all!), and she said something that hit me like a ton of bricks: "Well, you're the cheater and I'm still taking the chance to trust you, so you should take the chance to trust me."

I asked her what she meant by that, and she said I'm not the one taking a risk in our relationship. She is, by dating someone who cheated on her dear friend (my ex). I said that wasn't exactly a happy healthy relationship, she said doesn't matter. Still a cheater. I said but I cheated with her! She said doesn't matter, still a cheater.

I hung up with her because I felt like I was going to be sick and she's been blowing up my phone asking if I'm alright and even apologizing and saying we can wait longer to move in together, but part of me is rethinking this whole relationship. She's been wonderful to me up till now, am I blowing things out of proportion? Is she trying to lure me into another toxic relationship? Please help, I feel like my ability to see red flags is still virtually nonexistent at this point :(

What are these acronyms?

[solarissun]

We are never, ever getting back together.

afab!reader x aged up Clapton Davis

Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, porn with plot, no use of y/n, hard dom, unprotected (wrap it please), angst, exes, daydreamed violence, aged up character

A/N: I’ve never posted my writing before due to being insecure, but now that I discovered this fandom on Tumblr, I decided to suck it up and see where it goes! I’m sorry if this is bad, I wrote it at 3 am two nights in a row. I just had to write something before I forgot all my ideas. Enjoy!

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

You hated him. You hated him so fucking much. All you wanted to do was watch him wear your hands around his neck like a necklace. And there he was, standing outside the vacant apartment beside yours, cardboard boxes surrounding him.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You're running late to work, having slept through your alarm. You quickly hop out of bed, jump into the shower, and throw on whatever clean enough clothes are on your laundry pile.

As you run out your door, you pause, noticing the piles of boxes lining up the wall of the apartment next to yours. You smile, waiting for whoever it is to walk out. You honestly didn’t mind your previous neighbors. By all means, they weren’t the friendliest of people. They’d bang on your walls if you even played your music one digit too loud.

So, honestly, you couldn’t help but admit you were pretty happy when they moved out. As you eye the boxes that take up half the hall, you feel yourself getting excited.

After a few moments, you see him.

Your heart drops, and you feel your whole life falling apart in just one second. He turns to look at you, your eyes locked on each other. Both of you pause, not a word leaving your mouths.

Almost exactly 2 and a half years ago, the love of your life, the man you pictured spending the rest of your days with, left. He didn’t warn you, he didn’t even call. You came home, and all of his and his sister's belongings were completely cleared out of your apartment, gone without a trace. All he left you was a text. A single text.

“I found someone new, I’m sorry. I truly wish you the best. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

After a few months of rotting in your bed with mascara-stained pillows and tear-soaked bed sheets, you got tired of wasting away. You moved away to a new, cheaper apartment, not warning anyone of your departure. You wanted a fresh start. A new job, a new home. A new you. All you craved was a way to forget the past, and you were so close.

Except after 2 years, the past was standing in front of you, only a few feet away. Anger bubbles within you, the deep cuts he left when he abandoned you all of those years ago tearing open and filling with nothing but pure, burning hatred.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, his face twisting.. into god knows what. You want to ask him so many questions. You want to get on your knees and beg him to tell you why he did what he did. At the same time, you want to sock him in his mouth. Instead of doing either, you turn on your heel, walking away as fast as you possibly can.

He doesn’t call after you, he doesn’t chase you. Instead, you hear the faint click of a door shutting behind you. Your anger turns to anguish as you hurry down the hallway, trying desperately to put as much distance between him and you before breaking down. You find a maintenance closet, slam it behind you, and sink to the floor. You sob until your throat is destroyed and your eyes are dry.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

All you can think about while you work is him. Are you grading your students' homework? Mike. You’re yelling at your class for being too Rowdy? Mike. He lives in your head the entire day, and no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is the look on his face when he saw you just a few hours ago.

The school day is finally over, but you dread going home. You wish you could curl up under your desk and live there for the next few decades. But you can’t, so you suck it up and drive back to your apartment.

You get to your door, fumbling with your keys as you quickly try and escape the hallway. You hear the door next to yours click open. You rest your head against your door in defeat. He walks by you quickly, not even glancing towards you. You clench your fists, swinging your door open as soon as you unlock it, slamming it so hard behind you the frame shakes.

You want to cry, just like you did before. But no tears spill. Your eyes don’t even water. All you feel is rage.

You decide right then and there, you're going to make him suffer for what he did to you. Besides, maybe if you truly make him miserable he’ll move back to wherever the hell he came from.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Later that night, you start plotting different ways you can get him to pack up his shit and run away with his tail between his legs. You think of hundreds of possibilities ranging from glitter bombs in his mail to… Clapton. You shake the thought out of your head immediately. You can’t do that to him. He’d probably be down for anything, to be honest.

Despite that, you tuck the idea into the back of your head, writing it off as a last resort. You want to start with more petty things before immediately jumping to the most extreme idea your mind can muster.

You quickly form a short list in your head, smiling as you daydream the look on Mike's face as you go through each scenario. Around midnight, after you finish coming up with every possible insane revenge plot you can think of, you crawl into bed.

After tucking yourself in, you Bluetooth your phone to a speaker, turning it up. You play the most infuriating, mind-numbing song you can think of. It starts blasting out, the speaker shaking on your bedside table. You sigh, sinking into your pillow as you hear Mike’s old bed springs creak through the wall.

You sit there for what feels like hours, the same song looping repeatedly. He doesn't knock on the door. You don't even hear him speak, let alone breathe through the wall. You groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you realize it might be pointless.

Despite your failure on the first night, you continue to blast the same song night after night, all with the same result. After almost 3 nights of getting only a few hours of sleep, you give up. You have to step up your game if you want to get results.

A few weeks pass without you tormenting him. You want to make him feel safe. You want to make him feel like you realized it was all a waste of time. Well, you also waited a few weeks since that's how long it took for the prank package you ordered to come. Sure, the package was a bit pricey, but you decided it was worth it either way. As soon as the post office stops by your apartment, you snatch up the box, almost ripping it out of the poor mailman's hands.

You quickly customize it so Mike believes not only is it his mail, but that some random man from Florida sent it. At first, you had thought to sneak into his apartment and throw glitter over everything, just like you'd do back in high school. But, you need to be careful about how you go about this. Unless you want a lawsuit to land in your lap, you need at least some amount of deniability

After deciding it's perfect, you leave it directly in front of his door. He might think the placement of the box is a tad suspicious, but you rationalize it by telling yourself he’ll feel so special he’ll open it on the spot.

After a few hours, Mike comes home from what you assume is work. A part of you wonders why in the world he works on the weekends as well. You forget about the thought quickly as you flip open your phone, watching through the camera that comes with the box. You watch in anticipation as you hear the sound of tape tearing off of the cardboard. Your smile widens as you see Mike's face appear in the frame, peeking into the box.

After a few heartbeats green, blue, and pink glitter explodes directly into his face. He yelps, dropping the box immediately. As soon as the box thunks against the door, more glitter explodes out, covering his entire living room. You hear him groan through the wall, grumbling about how petty and childish you are.

You’re laughing way too hard to even care he knew it was you. Tears start streaming down your face, and you clutch your stomach as you try to breathe. You finally got him. You feel on top of the world as you look at the camera through blurry eyes. All you see is a beet-red Mike decked out in sparkles. You start laughing even harder as he flips off the camera before stomping on it, destroying the feed.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Despite how his misery made you feel at first, you start to get a little less happy as the days pass by. He hasn’t talked to you about it and he hasn’t told anyone what went down, not even the landlord. A fraction of you begins to feel a little worried he might be planning. As you ponder the thought, you hear a knock on your door.

You creep over to the peephole, seeing no one standing at your door. You crack it open, worried Mike might be standing outside, waiting to ambush you. Instead of Mike standing around the corner with an airsoft gun, there's an Amazon package.

You smile, realizing exactly what it is. You ordered soundproof headphones so you could sleep while also torturing Mike. You quickly take it to your kitchen, tearing it open without a second thought.

What. The. Fuck.

Glitter sprays everywhere. Directly into your eyes, all over your dining table, all over the countertops. It even reaches the sink. You scream as you try and claw the glitter away from your face. As you stumble towards the sink, glitter continues to coat your entire kitchen.

This means war.

You immediately flip open your phone, not even bothering to clean the mass of glitter that’s coating your kitchen. You text the one person you know would do anything for you.

“I need you, Clapton.”

He found someone new? Well, so did you. And you’re going to do everything in your power to make sure he fucking knows.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

During your high school years, you and Mike became inseparable. It was the two of you against the world... Until Clapton Davis came along. The three of you became the best of friends. You always knew Mike was jealous of Clapton and how much he captured your attention. Despite how you felt towards him while you were younger, you chose Mike. And he threw it all away for some random bitch.

So, now you’re choosing Clapton.

A month ago, you two decided to reconnect and reminisce about old times. You had him over a few times just to watch a few movies, but the most you’ve done is kiss. Every time he’d come over, you knew he wanted more. And he was getting exactly that.

You lay in bed, waiting for just the right time. Around 2 am, you smile to yourself as you faintly hear Mike shuffle into bed and sigh as he sinks into it. Thank god for the paper-thin walls. You reach over to your bedside table, squinting into the light. You flip to Clapton's contact and text, “Do you think you could come over right now?” You had originally told him to come over the next night, but it had to be at an ungodly hour, or it wouldn't be as satisfying. Almost immediately He texts you back, “Are you okay?”

“I just need to see you sooner.” He immediately texts back a thumbs up, and after a little over 10 minutes you hear a knock at your door. You unzip your hoodie, quickly making your way to the front of your apartment. You open the door and there he is. He clearly had just woken up, wearing a tank top and grey checkered pajama pants. A fraction of you feel bad for calling him over like this, but you push it aside and remember who’s sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall.

He raises his eyebrow, unsure of how to ask why you ‘needed him.’ You don’t give any explanation before you throw yourself at him. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. He sucks in a breath, clearly confused. That confusion vanishes when you press yourself against him, pulling his waist against yours.

He wraps his arms around your waist, walking you into your apartment. He walks you backward, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You whimper as you feel him hoist your thigh up, holding it as his hip. Suddenly, he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him, your eyebrow furrowed. You sigh as you see him looking at your kitchen in utter confusion. “What in God's name happened?”

The kitchen is still completely decked out in glitter. The moonlight slithers its way through the window, illuminating the sparkles, making it look like a thousand stars splattered against the walls. You laugh a little, brushing it off. “Nothing Important.” He seems like he wants to say more, but as you grind your hips against his, he immediately forgets it. He groans, bending down to press his lips against your neck.

You tangle your hands through his hair as you feel his lips brush your neck. He starts sucking the skin below your pulse, making you whine into his ear. You gasp as you feel his teeth meet the plush skin, nipping at the sore spot. You slowly start grinding against him harder as his tongue swipes across the already numb skin. He groans against your neck, his breath hot against it.

His fingers slowly brush down your body, leaving goosebumps erupting on every inch he touches. His hand reaches your waistband, fiddling with the elastic. You whine against his shoulder as his fingers dip lower, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. You slowly grind your hips against his finger, desperate for more friction. He picks you up by your thighs, his fingers digging into the skin. You wrap your legs tight around his waist, holding onto his neck. He quickly carries you to your bedroom, throwing you down as he reaches your bed. He lays you down, sliding next to you.

He presses his lips against yours again, this time wasting no time to dip his fingers into your panties, not even bothering to remove them. He drags his digits through your folds, circling your clit. “Shit, you’re already so wet.” He gasps out. His middle finger teases your entrance before slowly sliding in. He slowly pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers on the spongy parts inside of you, hitting all the right spots.

“You like that?” He asks, and you nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. You feel him add another finger and your walls clench around him. “Fuck!” You cry out, frantically grinding against the palm of his hand begging for more.

He adds a third finger, and you see stars. He pumps faster and faster, bringing you dangerously close to the edge. You just barely overplay your volume, remembering Mike. As soon as your legs begin to shake, he removes his fingers, ruining your orgasm and leaving you feeling empty. Your eyes flutter open and you stare at him, whimpering.

He slowly puts the fingers that were just inside you in his mouth, cleaning them off. You bite your lip as he blinks at you through his long eyelashes, savoring the taste. He smiles down at you once he’s done, sliding your zip-up off your shoulders. He slowly undresses you, a pile of clothes beginning to form on the floor. He leaves you in nothing but your panties. His breath hitches in his throat as he studies every curve of your body.

You do the same to him, helping him pull his shirt off his head. Your hands quickly fly down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to his ankles. His tight grey boxers leave little to the imagination as you see the outline of his hard-on, begging to be free. You do exactly that, pulling them off of him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

Your eyes trail along every vein and detail, taking him in. He’s average, but somewhat girthy. The tip is hard and red, already leaking with pre-cum, slowly dripping down his shaft. You reach out, your thumb collecting it. You stare into his eyes as you suck it off of the pad, a bittersweet taste spreading across your tongue. As soon as your thumb pops out of your mouth, he grips onto your hips, pulling him on top of you. He slides your panties to the side and you moan feeling the cold air hit you. He slides his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness.

You slowly sink down onto him, gasping as his tip enters you. He grips your waist harder, holding you down. “You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest. “Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.

He pushes in, faster this time, and you finally feel his hips meet yours. “You’re such- Shit! You’re such a good girl.” Suddenly, he grabs you harder by the waist, flipping you over. You gasp as your bare stomach meets the rough sheets of the bed. He grabs your hair, pulling you against his chest, somehow hitting so deep you see white.

You moan out his name louder and louder as each thrust inside of you quickens. He shoves you back down against the bed, thrusting so hard the headboard begins to slam against the wall. You smile into the sheets realizing the torture Mike must be going through right now. “You’re taking me so well…” He grumbles out, pushing deeper into you.

The smile is immediately wiped off your face as he moves one hand away from your hair and slithers it down to your clit. He rubs circles on it with 2 fingers. You grip your fingers into the bed sheets, screaming into the mattress. Your vision starts getting blurry as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. Pure euphoria tears through you as his fingers quicken as well as his hips.

“I’m close-“ He groans out as your walls clench around him. He rubs faster and faster circles on your clit and your legs start to shake uncontrollably. You scream louder and louder, and your walls start to spasm. Quickly you hurdle over the finish line, coming all over his dick. You feel tears running down your cheeks as you feel him release inside of you, his hips stuttering.

You call out his name one last time before he pulls out of you, lying down next to you. He looks over at you, tears spilling down your face and your fingers still bunched up in the bedsheets. He laughs as you give him a shaky smile.

“I’ve imagined that since grade 12..” He whispers out. He reaches towards you, brushing your hair that’s plastered to your face with sweat. “Me too..” You smile, moving forward to press your lips against his. He kisses you back, pulling you on top of him. He smiles up at you, his face flushed.

“Round two?”

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Your eyes flutter open, the warm sun creeping through the blinds, bathing your room in a warm orange glow. You slowly reach next to you, feeling the muscles on Clapton's back. He stirs, turning onto his back. His eyes slowly open, and he slowly looks over at you. He stretches up, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I better go…” You get up as well, turning and placing your feet on the cold wood floors. You gather up his and your clothes from last night, handing them to him. After you're both dressed, you lead him to your front door. He opens it and steps out into the hallway, starting towards the elevator.

As soon as you hear Mike's door click open, you quickly grab Clapton's wrist, pulling him back towards you. You get on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him. He slips his tongue in your mouth, his hand untangling your hair. After a few seconds, you pull away, resting your forehead on his.

“I’ll see you around?” He says, smiling. “Of course.” You grin, pecking his cheek. He unwraps himself from you, turns around, and walks away. He doesn’t even seem to notice his old best friend who is standing just a few feet away, watching.

Once Clapton’s out of sight, you turn to look at Mike. Oh, he looks absolutely wrecked. His curls are a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes are even deeper than you’ve ever seen them. He has the same look on his face you’ve seen him have when men would flirt with you on your dates. But, he also just looks.. sad. You expect him to turn back into his apartment and walk away but he speaks instead.

“The glitter wasn’t enough for you, huh?” You scoff, anger filling inside you at his audacity. “A girl can’t have fun?” He raises an eyebrow at you and a small smirk creeps onto his face. “You think I don’t know how purposeful that was? Do you have any respect for others?” You laugh, right in his face. His mouth twists into a nasty scowl, his stupid smirk wiping immediately off his face.

“Mike, I lost every bit of decency I had towards you when you abandoned me for some..” You don’t finish the sentence, instead letting his mind fill in the blank. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks disappointed. He looked at you like that when you were still together.

You’ve always hated that look.

He opens his mouth and closes it, clearly wanting to say something important but deciding against it. He shakes his head and turns back into his apartment, closing the door behind him softly.

You do the same, opening your door and sliding down with your back against it. You pull your knees up to your chest, rubbing the bruises on your sides that Clapton left. You rest your head on your knees and sigh.

“God, what am I doing?”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

[achillesuwu]

Bringing back that thing I wrote like, 2 years ago in a forgotten small thread "fic" because I want to :

What if

What if

Instead of the "one person transmigrate in an AU" /every/ cultivators of the main sects (post sun-shot they think wwx is dead) get transmigrated in a world were YLLZ is very much alive and a powerful sect leader that's ~400 years old or something.

Like at first most don't see anything wrong, I mean, why would they?

Except that there is some weird thing. Some reports that don't make any sens. Some people that aren't simply there. Some scars that suddenly totally healed.

But above all, some people that shouldn't be alive are very much alive and confuse

However, none of them could be as confuse as the servants that work in those sect.

What do you mean you don't remember me? I work here since I'm 6 and I have been your personal servant for forty years !?????

What do you mean you never heard of that sect!? They are your allies!🙄

But most of all : how the heck did you forget about the YLLZ!?!? THE YLLZ? It doesn't matter. HE GOING TO COME AT THE ANNUAL CONFERENCE MASTER YOU BETTER GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER, BE CAREFUL AND /NOT/ CALL HIM WEN DOG!

Every servants at the moment : Those rich cultivators 🙄🙄 They are down right suicidale on a regular basis and now they are amnesiac! Great!! Fuck my life!!!!!

Anyway, cut scene to this annual conference where everyone is very awkward.

Everyone thinks that they are the only one that transmigrated or that only their clan did

The Jin are very much angry because all their job to kick yllz out of the living had gone to waste AND they aren't the biggest sect anymore.

Meanwhile, the Jiang are really awkward because JFM and YZY don't really understand why their kid are so weird??? (they didn't transmigrated but JYL did because I say so and same for her not-yet-husband (which weirded out even more the servant when the sect heir ran crying towards the ex he hates)

The lan are... Weirder than usual.... it's well know that the sect leader is very gloomy since his ex-wife left him for a YillingWei female disciple (not even a high ranked one but she is still under the YLLZ protection so...) & that he doesn't have a good relationship with his sons but still. It wasn't like... that.

LQR is looking like he is 10 years older and ready to kill anyone that talk about demonic cultivation. (don't ask why to any servant there, they don't know! He literally taught about it last months without any issue!!). He doesn't even look at the sect leader in the eyes either!

The first jade isn't looking at the second jade and they seems distant (!?) and he is completely ignoring the sect leader. Meanwhile the second jade doesn't seem to be able to sit still (!?!?). The more their second young master looks at the door the angrier the second master and his eldest nephew seem to be.

Truly, truly from every corner it's just awkward from everywhere. The servant truly don't understand 😩 that conference is THE event of the year!!!

The event that everyone expect, that everyone prepared carefully from the clothing of the lowest servant to the rings on the finger of the leader everything is carefully chosen to impress the Yilling loazu!! Nothing should be awkward like that, everyone should be thrilled!

They should be ready to make new alliance and secure their trade! Not doing... Whatever they are doing!!!

The servants can only wait and hope that YLLZ will not mind it 😩 it's already so difficult to make him come to this conference once every 5 years!!!! Some of us are aiming to get a demonic scholarship, venerable (dumbass) cultivators !!!!

[hotteoki]

the ex factor (c.b.g.)

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: angst?, fluff, exes-to-lovers

wc: 1.2k

cw: /

notes: i had this idea a while ago and i thought i was so clever for the title i still think i am ngl 🤭

part one (can be read as a stand alone)

for @rgyui and @iwaplant here's a part 2! probably not what you expected tho...

🗣️welcome to your weekly dose of the ‘ex factor’! tonight, we’ve invited a freshly broken up couple, only an astonishing two months ago! as per usual, we will offer a series of questions and you, our dear viewers, will vote whether they should get back together… or stay apart for good?

(a pause as the intro rolls in)

🗣️the two will be placed into different rooms, unable to hear each other. however, they’ll be asked the same series of questions. will they have similar answers? or completely different? stay tuned to find out!

(the screen cuts to beomgyu)

🗣️how long did your relationship last?

beomgyu: two years, or, well, almost two years. one year and eleven months to be exact.

(the screen cuts to you, and it flickers continuously between the two of you)

you: one year and eleven months, so, two years, basically.

🗣️and what was the reason for your untimely ending?

beomgyu: it wasn't, like, one argument or one thing that broke us apart. it was more of a build-up, i guess you could say? it was a kind of silent, mutual agreement or something. yeah, something like that.

you: there was a kind of tension, or something, in between us a month before we broke up. i'm not sure why there was, i don't think he does either, to be honest. it just, kind of happened. i think we're both still confused about the whole thing, i mean, we just stopped being as clingy towards each other out of nowhere, we just kind of... drifted.

🗣️how did you meet?

beomgyu: it was at this local coffee shop i used to work at. she ordered a caramel macchiato, and i stuck a post-it note with the lyrics to bts' song 'coffee' onto it, it was kind of stupid, now that i look back, but hey, she came back to the cafe the next day. i was surprised she liked my post-it note idea, to be honest.

you: we met at a cafe where he used to work at, and i ordered the first drink that came to mind, and when i went to receive it, the other barista told me i should visit the cafe again the next day. i thought he was joking until i saw a post-it note stuck onto the cup with lyrics from the bts song and a pick up line underneath it.

🗣️what were your first impressions of each other?

beomgyu: the first thing i noticed about her was that she was extremely cute. then i realised that it was her first time ordering coffee, so i started flirting with her, which is very unlike me, but i guess past me agreed that we would do anything for her. (he laughs)

you: he was very flirty. now looking back, it was very out of character for him. then again, we were younger then, so i guess he was a bit different. but i was also thinking about how cute he was. he was probably my first ever crush, to be honest.

🗣️what do you think lacked in your relationship to cause its ending?

beomgyu: i think there was a lack of communication. it was obvious to anyone and everyone that we loved each other so, so much, but at the end of the day, it was hard for both of us to be vocal about our problems, so we just started ignoring each other, and eventually we agreed to break up.

you: the fact that we weren't used to talking about our problems. we were both comfortable with each other, but not in the way where we'd talk about what was bothering us or making us upset. we'd just let it simmer out on its own, and that ruined the perfect image of our relationship, i think.

🗣️what was your favourite memory in your relationship?

beomgyu: when she tried to make me coffee. she walked me to the cafe when i still worked there before it opened, and opening hours wasn’t until, like, an hour later, so i asked her if she wanted to try making coffee. (he pauses) yeah, it was absolute shit. but her smile was so gorgeous it made the food poisoning worth it.

you: probably that time we went to this carnival nearby and he got me a teddy bear just so i could name it after him. (you laugh) he ended up getting all jealous over the attention the bear was getting, and the poor thing got put in 'time out', which meant giving it to our friend's hedgehog.

🗣️is there anything you regret about your relationship? whether it be something you did to each other, or something you didn't do?

beomgyu: i didn't give her enough of my time. like yeah, i was dedicated to the relationship and i loved her even more than myself, but i knew, even back then, that i wasn't spending enough time on her, but i never bothered to do anything about it, so i guess that's something i regret and didn't do. that's probably why i haven't texted her anymore after our breakup. i know my work has crazy schedules and that's not going to go away anytime soon. i can't.. (he sighs) i can't give her what she deserves.

you: i think i was a bit too demanding at times. i hate this thing about me, but sometimes i get a bit too bossy without meaning to. like, i have this perfect image of a relationship, and when the person i'm with doesn't meet that standard, i kind of push that belief on them, if you get me. i don't know if it's because of him, or me, or anything, but it happened with all my past relationships as well. i'm not even sure if i know what love is, i just keep picturing a perfect relationship and every time, they're all the same scenarios, just with a different face. i don't know if it's love i'm looking for, or just comfort. it's too much for me to bear, let alone him.

🗣️what did you love most about each other?

beomgyu: the way she has this ability to always bring out the best in me. i know it sounds really typical but it's true. she's one of the biggest reasons why i'm still going. she got me through such a difficult part of my life and i'm so, so grateful for that. every day is a reminder that she was the one who encouraged me to keep going. everything i do is for her.

you: his presence. i can't seem to put it to words, but he's my walking definition of 'home'. he's my home. even though we've broken up, even though we haven't seen each other in months, i still consider him my comfort zone, because that's what he is to me. he reminds me of the warmth of your cozy bedroom after spending a day out in freezing cold. yeah, that's how i'd describe him.

(the screen cuts back to the host momentarily)

🗣️and now, for the question our audience has been dying for us to ask!

(screen cuts to beomgyu again)

🗣️if given the chance, would you start your relationship again?

(the audio is muted)

🗣️(there is a pause, and a disappointed expression) i see...

🗣️well! dear audience, be sure to put in your votes on whether they should try again or not! and tune in next week again to see the guests' answers! this has been 'the ex factor', and we'll see you soon!

[mygloviesme]

cool about it, eleven years later. || myg

no. 2 of 3: she called me a fucking liar

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: eleven years later, kanako lives in nyc with her childhood best friend keiko. bts have become a household name that floods her every day life, and she's learned to ignore it. after years of moving on from those months she spent with the seven boys, she finds herself in a good place. what happens after one fateful night she finally runs into faces she's tried so hard to run away from?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 4.6k

genre: ANGST, fluff, melodrama

chapter warnings: mentions of mental health, drinking, smoking

inspo song: worldstar money by joji

JULY 9TH, 2023, 10:48PM

The woman next to Yoongi loops her arm around his, holding him close. A knife puncturing my stomach only twists further. Further and further. 

“Who’s this?” She asks genuinely, kindly. Oh, I loathe her. I hate myself for it but I hate her more. The feelings I’m having are childish and jealous, completely unreasonable. But she’s so perfect. Her body fits into his like they were made for each other. I don’t recognize myself right now. It feels like high school with the way I’m obsessing over her every move. 

All I want to do right now is run into the club and down more drinks than I can fathom. Self destructive is the right word. I was never one for spite, but right now I wish I had a man on my own arm. 

“This is…Kanako.” He speaks, gulping. 

Her eyes widen and she breaks apart from him, taking my hands. “Oh my goodness! I didn’t even recognize you! I’m Aimee, remember? I was a trainee at Bighit for a little while.” 

The memories flood my brain as I recount who exactly she was. I do remember her. After the news broke out, she was the one who told me I could still take back what I said about Haneul. She was on his side. 

This is who he’s with? I feel a burning in my stomach, a validating one. I have a reason to dislike her. It gives me reason to hate her. And God, do I hate her right now. 

I look at Yoongi as Aimee holds my hands in hers, utter incredulity painting my face like a mural. I’m not sure if he remembers, but I do. Those words all those years ago were repeated over and over again so I could hate myself even more. She was amongst the people that made me afraid to go outside ever again. 

Haneul doesn’t have that power over me anymore, and neither does she. At least for being on his side. But I’m definitely giving her power by wanting to rip her away from Yoongi. This is getting embarrassing. 

“Yes. I do. You were friends with Haneul, weren’t you?” I smile with bitterness. I’m old enough to make statements now. I’m old enough to create boundaries. I don’t have to lie about liking someone. Fuck being the bigger person. I’ve been big, I’ve been small. I’ve done it all. 

Her beaming smile fades and she lets go of me, “N-No. Well, yes. But I know better now, I’m so sorry for what I said. I haven’t spoken to him in over a decade.” She says. Yeah, right.

Yoongi only stands with his hands in his pockets, not saying a word. I don’t want to be talking to Aimee, but I’m not entirely sure I want to be talking to him either. I don’t know if I have the strength to, considering how it went with Jungkook. There’s too many thoughts circling my mind at this very moment, all of them being about Yoongi. I don’t even know if I would consider him an ex, someone I knew, the one that got away. Because that would be me, I got away. 

I know I should’ve moved on long ago. I know I did in certain ways. But still after all these years I never understood why I could never give myself to someone else.The feelings for Yoongi had never dissipated, I just forgot what it’s like for him to be standing in front of me. Looking like that. 

This hurts so fucking bad. 

“Hey, Koko.” I hear Keiko say from behind Yoongi. She holds her bag as well as mine. Her body is asking if I’m ready to go. She knows. “It’s alright Aimee. Have a good night.” I say and nod to Yoongi who makes strong eye-contact with me. 

I turn to Namjoon, “How long are you going to be in New York for?” 

“Just two more days.” He says, “We can meet up again if you’d like.”

I walk to Keiko, grabbing my bag. “I’ll call you.” I tell him. He nods slowly and I wave a quick good-bye before me and Keiko head off into the Uber she called over. 

As I walk away I’m fighting the urge to look back. I didn’t then, but I want to now. A part of me wants to tell Yoongi that I want to see him again. But the other part wants me to ignore all those precious memories we have together and lock them in a box, throwing away the key. Don’t look back. Don’t look back. I grip my purse tighter, biting my lip. 

Before we get into the Uber, I reluctantly choose to look back. I hold the car door with one hand, turning to Yoongi. He was already looking at me. Those almond eyes. I keep that short moment in my back-pocket, saving it for tonight. 

He looked back, and so did I. 

JULY 9TH, 2023, 12:34AM

Me and Keiko sit on my bed, face masks on and a tub of ice cream between us with one spoon staked in the frozen dessert. It’s rocky-road, my favorite but her least favorite. She knew how much I needed it though, so she succumbed to the chunky-goodness. 

“So how was it?”

“What?”

She rolls her eyes, “You know what I’m talking about.”

I take a deep breath, exhaling for a moment. “Awful. Jungkook was so upset, and I mean for the right reasons. But it just took me by surprise. He was so…sure with himself. Namjoon is sort of the same. Level-headed. But Yoongi…”

“He has long hair now.”

I shove her playfully, “Shut up!”

She takes the spoon, dipping it into ice cream before pulling it to her mouth. “Sorry. You were saying?”

I lean my hands back, “I felt like it was the first time all over again.”

“Like no time had passed?”

I pull a face, “It’s so stupid.” 

She raises her eyebrows, giving her head a small tilt. “Just a little.” 

I scoff, “Kay, sorry if I thought this was a safe space.” 

“It is! It is. It's just funny to hear that is all. But I get it, trust me. Although it’s been eleven years.”

“Don’t rub it in! I know. But besides that, seeing him was so unreal. Unlike the others, he just seemed…the same. I don’t know. Should I see Namjoon tomorrow?” I ask, grabbing the spoon from her hand to have a bite. 

“Well, what I’m hearing is you asking if you should see Yoongi tomorrow.” She purses her lips. 

I nod sheepishly. “Maybe I am.”

“Kanako, can I be serious with you? For just a moment.” She stops and places her hands on my shoulders. I hold the spoon in my hand nervously, looking at her serious expression. “Sure.” I’m not. Keiko’s brutal honesty is never something to be ignored. 

“As much as I love to encourage your bad decisions, I have to draw a line. Because I love you, and because I think you know this too…don’t try to stir things back up with him.”

I pout, “That wasn’t exactly my intention-”

“I know. But at your core, you’re a romantic. A lifelong monogamist, as much as you don’t like to admit it. You haven’t been in a real relationship in eleven years, and that makes me worry for you. And your vagina.” 

“You know I’ve been trying to open up more!”

“Yes babe, but after eleven years? You couldn’t have been waiting for him, were you?”

She keeps emphasizing eleven years which doesn’t make me feel good. I know it’s sort of something that’s been left unsaid, my lack of relationships. But I’ve played it off as not needing a man, being too focused on my work. I’m just a workaholic, it’s fine. Even though that isn’t necessarily true. I love my free time. I love having free time. I knew one day I’d gain the strength to start something up with someone else, I was just waiting. Yeah, waiting. 

“No! I mean not really. I just haven’t…felt that spark with anyone else.”

“Spark. Right.” She squints suspiciously. 

“It’s true!” I gasp. It isn’t. 

I settle down and play with the hem of my sweater, “Don’t act like I haven’t moved on.”

She cooes, “Oh, Koko. I know you have. I just think seeing him was hard for you. It brought up stuff, didn’t it?”

That’s definitely a word for it. Stuff. If stuff means feelings, yes. Feelings I can’t quite figure out. It’s not like I want to seduce him out of his relationship, but a part of me is so hungry to know him again. To know what he’s been up to, if he still likes his coffee the same, if his love for me hasn’t faltered. It hurts me so much to think that mine hasn’t. Haneul was never my first love, Yoongi was. What I felt for Yoongi was deeper, something I didn’t and couldn’t understand at eighteen.

What I had with Hanuel was a need to be seen, validated. There wasn’t any depth besides the trauma I got out of it. That’s a black hole I’ve gotten out of. With stories to tell and scars to hide, but It’s gone. Thank God. 

“Yeah…it did.”

She pulls me in for an embrace, kissing my forehead. “Do what you want, I love you. He’s just…obviously with someone new. I don’t want you to get hurt. But you should see Namjoon. And maybe try to fix things with Jungkook. That’ll make you feel better.”

I nod into her shirt, “Yeah, it will.”

She pulls herself back from the embrace, seemingly confused. “It kind of surprises me that your feelings are so strong for him…and yet you guys never had sex.”

“Trust me, that took me months to get over.”

JULY 10TH, 2023, 6:00PM

I move the hair in front of my face and adjust my soft pink top before I enter the rather expensive restaurant Namjoon had invited me to. This is definitely not a place we would’ve come to back then. Even I have never been here before. 

There’s a few moments before I’m met with a hostess, “Kanako?” She asks and I nod, gripping the handle of my purse tighter. My hands are growing clammier, embarrassingly enough. Namjoon asked if he could invite some of the other members that were here as well, and I accepted warily. I knew I’d easily get overwhelmed by seeing most of them again, but I didn’t know when I’d have another chance to. Seeing as they’re all busy and for the first time in eleven years I’m taking a leap of faith. 

I don’t know when I’d have this courage again. Especially if it means Yoongi might be there. 

She leads me to a seated area covered by a black curtain. Her hand delicately brushes it open for me, revealing the four familiar men. For some reason I expected something more dramatic, more tragic. I have pessimism on the brain, but can you blame me? It’s my easiest coping mechanism. My most self-destructive one. A common theme lately. 

She gives me leeway to enter and I respond to her with a quick thanks before entering the small room. The men all stand quickly but seem to be caught, saying nothing. Their eyes dart to each other for a quick minute before Jimin smiles, “You look great.” Unexpected, but I’ll take it.

They all look great too, all so mature and aged. I could take notes. But I think they’d be pricey notes.

It feels like I’m standing in front of strangers in a sense, eleven years taking off memories from me little by little. But I still remember a lot. Even with Jimin’s cadence in his voice, it’s so different. It’s softer. More gentle, like I’m a new friend. New friend. 

“Please, sit.” Namjoon insists and I do so, sitting next to him which seems like the safest bet. I place my purse down beside me and shuffle in my seat, “Thanks for…inviting me. It’s great seeing you all again.” I say, trying so hard not to cringe with my words. Just like last night, it feels like anything I say doesn’t amount to how big this situation is. 

We used to be all so close. I knew them. They called me their sister at some point. 

“You too. Sorry Taehyung couldn’t make it. He’s busy and all that.” Namjoon chuckles, planting his elbows on the table. Jungkook sits right in front of me, not speaking a word. His eyes stay looking down at the table, sometimes to Jimin. 

I don’t know whether to look at them or not, it all feels like the wrong move. What if they don’t like who I am now? The way I dress, speak, move. I want them to recognize me. I’m almost thirty, why do I care so much about what they think of me?

“We went ahead and ordered meat and other side stuff. You like fish cakes right? And beer? If not, I could get you something else.” Namjoon asks. 

“N-No, that’s all fine. Thank you…”

More silence. 

“I got spicy cucumber salad for you. I know how much you liked it then.” Jungkook says between the echoing quiet. Then. 

“Oh yeah, I still do. And I still like-”

“Pickled radish.” Yoongi whispers, fiddling with his hands. They remember. He remembers. 

I respond with a soft laugh, “Right.” 

He smiles too, looking up at me. One day I’ll stop feeling whatever this is I feel for Min Yoongi, but as long as he stays just like this, I don’t think that will happen any time soon. There’s a delicate fluttering in my stomach as we keep eye contact with each other, like it’s all that time ago. I would call myself delusional, crazy, everything that means that I’m looking too much into it. But if I could print this moment on paper, you’d believe me.

“So you guys are on a hiatus? How has that been?” I question genuinely. Jimin totters in his seat, making a ‘tsk’ sound with his mouth. It reminds me of Hoseok. I wish they were all here, but I’m glad I at least have this. 

“Taking a break has been great for most of us, but I’m still working on music and whatnot. So is Jungkook, but we definitely have more free time than we did a year ago. We wouldn’t have been able to go on a dinner like this if it were, say, 2021.” He says honestly. The boys nod in agreement. 

“Really?” I raise my brows in shock.

“Yeah, we were robots for like, six years straight. Non-stop working. What about you?” Jimin tilts his head.

“Yeah, Kanako. We’re- I am- very curious about what you’ve been doing. You went to college when you left, didn’t you?” Namjoon says it as if it isn’t a sore topic. It is for me, and with the way Yoongi shut down privately it seems like it was the same for them too. 

I play with the glass of water in front of me, “Yeah I did. I graduated with a degree in communications, so I work with my friend Keiko at the New York Times as an editor. She was doing an internship there and…managed to get us both in, I guess. I’m pretty lucky.” I admit.

Jimin’s mouth is agape, “Kanako, that's seriously impressive.”

I scoff, “Oh shush, nothing like being a global star. Mr. Nominated For A Grammy.” 

Namjoon shakes his head playfully, “There’s the Kanako I remember.” 

I smile to myself as I hear Namjoon’s comment, “But thanks Jimin.” I say.

Before he can reply a waiter comes in with multiple servings of all kinds of food. He places the raw meat besides the grill, following with the various side dishes all neatly surrounding the table. It’s so much food, something we definitely never did back then. 

Once everything is settled, Yoongi grabs the tongs, pointing them at me. 

“Make sure to eat a lot. It’s on us.”

JULY 10TH, 2023, 7:47PM

We’ve grown into a more comfortable banter as we all eat. Talking about celebrities they’ve met, encounters with fans in bathrooms, and something Namjoon wants to say to me. 

He chews on the kimchi that sits in his mouth, covering it with his hand. “I mean it’s not that big of a deal, but now that you’re here I just wanted to tell you because it sort of is a big thing.”

“Go ahead Joon.” I assure him. 

He swallows, “Well- uh. I’m bisexual. And I’m dating a guy. He’s cool.”

I widen my eyes. Definitely didn’t see that coming. I mean, kind of. He’s always been a very open-minded person, but I never heard him talk about any sort of crush. Besides that one time in a club, but I never assumed he was straight. Or anyone else, for that matter. I’m happy for him though. I know it must be hard for them to maintain relationships during all this chaos, but the dust has settled. And he seems happy, which is most important. 

“Oh sweet.” I reply nonchalantly, hoping to not scare him away. 

“That’s it? Sweet?” He chuckles, turning over the cooking bulgogi. 

“Scratch that, I’m glad you found someone. That makes me happy you could do that in the midst of, you know everything that’s been going on for you. Where’d you meet?” I reply. 

He sighs, “Mutual friends. It was hard to connect with other guys during the, you know, spotlight. I’m still not out obviously, but he’s really okay with it. We go to art galleries and dinners and such. It’s pretty serious.”

I grin as I sip my beer, “Is he as smart as you?”

“He tries to keep up.” Namjoon replies with a smirk. 

Jimin perks his head up, “What about you Kanako? Anyone in your life?”

I gulp. It takes everything in me to not look at Yoongi. I hope the small beat after he asked the question isn’t obvious. I look down to my fish cake, “Not really.”

“Has there ever been? It’s been eleven years, you know.” He says. Ugh.

“You sound just like Keiko.” I mumble.

Namjoon tilts his head, “Are you and Keiko…”

I shake my head quickly, “No. Nope.” I respond to him, turning to Jimin. “Uh- some guys here and there but nothing ever serious. I’m pretty focused on my work. What about you, Jiminie?” I attempt to curb the conversation from myself. Trying to not make it obvious I’m hiding a deep, dirty secret that’s sitting across from me. 

There’s an abrupt laughter that bounces off the table. I look around, confused. “What am I missing?” I say. 

Jungkook laughs, “Jimin is the opposite of a monogamist.”

Jimin’s face washes over with an obvious scarlet, “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

I giggle and lean back in my seat, “Ahhh, I see.” 

That was an unsurprising answer from him. And I’m sure with the fame there’s even more options for a guy like him. “Is it limited to just women?” I ask. 

Jimin gasps, “Why does everyone ask that!”

Namjoon laughs hard, holding his stomach in the process. “Kanako is asking the real questions.” He chokes out whilst wiping tears from his eyes. 

“But to answer your question, definitely not.” Jimin gives a cheeky look to me as he responds. It’s clear he’s growing more buzzed by the minute. I assume that night at the club sparked something in him. It’s fun, for now. 

This news is all so raw to me but it’s so fluid. The aging only made the conversations better, more comfortable. There’s less hesitation and more openness. There’s still a silence in Yoongi’s corner, reminding me of how he was when I first met him. Shy. But the topic of conversation I know is something he doesn’t want to contribute to. Not after the awkward encounter I had with his supposed beau. His young, annoying beau. 

“And you, Jungkook?” I ask. 

Jimin pats the young boy on the arm, “Still afraid of women. But I think he was just having a hard time moving on from-”

“Shut up.” Jungkook is quick to quiet the tipsy man down. There is an obvious glow to Jimin’s cheeks as time passes, and I don’t remember how many glasses of beer he’s had if that tells you anything. His mouth is like a loose cannon. Things don’t feel great. The table turns quiet again. Something else I’m missing. Jimin shrugs. 

“Let’s just say Yoongi isn’t the only one still hung up on you.” He mutters under his breath, taking a big gulp of his beer. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“Jimin, really?” Namjoon looks at him in disbelief. Jungkook is also shocked, holding a hand up as if he’s stopped in his tracks. “I can’t believe you said that.” The young boy whispers. 

Jimin tries to reach for Jungkook, slurring a small ‘I’msorry’ before Jungkook slides out of his seat to walk out of the room. Jimin follows the young boy in hopes to apologize. All I feel is second-hand embarrassment, confusion, and heaps of awkwardness. Yoongi sets down his chopsticks in a disappointed manner, exhaling loudly. 

He looks at me for the second time today, “Don’t pay attention to him. He’s grown to be a messy drunk.” He says. 

I nod and hang my head politely, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. But it might be too late for that, because before I can think I’m jolting my head back up in question.

“What did he mean, not the only one?” I ask, looking at the two men. 

Namjoon bites his lip, “Not sure if that’s our place to say.”

But what does it mean? Is Yoongi still hung up on me? Is Jungkook? I didn’t think he ever felt that way towards me, he called me his sister for god's sake. Was it a cover-up? Did feelings develop over time? How did I not know? How did I not expect this? This gives everything a new meaning that I do not want. 

I don’t want any of this. “I’m so sorry.” I whisper as I pick at my rice.

“It’s to be expected.” Yoongi responds, seriously. 

His tone is indistinct which causes me to be a bit bewildered, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs apathetically, “Everything was…never concluded properly. You left things sort of a mess after you left.” 

I scoff and cross my arms, blatantly offended. “A mess?”

Namjoon attempts to break up the rising tension, “Guys let’s not-”

But Yoongi has intentions. Everything is coming to the surface, I know it. I hear the words flow from Yoongi’s mouth like he’s rehearsed them. Like he’s always known what he was going to say, eleven years later.

“We loved you, and you left. You can’t expect us to not have feelings about it.”

We loved you. The same knife digs into me as I hear him. 

“I’m not expecting anything. It’s just been-”

“Eleven years? Yeah, we know.” He laughs sarcastically. He always knows what I’m going to say next. In this moment I wish he knew nothing about me. 

There’s a bubbling frustration within me that grows to its peak, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I loved you all too, okay?” My words begin to adhere to him, unbeknownst to me. It’s coming out. “I spent days and nights thinking about you. I wanted to come back, I wanted to call. But it would make- it would’ve made moving on so much harder.”

“Why did you want to?”

“Want to what?”

Namjoon places a hand on my shoulder to cool me down but I’m an unstoppable forest fire, trees and wildlife burning down in front of their eyes. They’ve watched me crumble so many times it’s almost unbelievable it’s happening all over again. Some things really don’t ever change. 

“Move on, Kanako? Why!” Yoongi shouts. 

I sit up from my seat, planting my hands on the table angrily, “Because I loved you! I had just started to and I knew I had to stop if I was ever going to heal! Don’t you get that? I was in an abusive relationship at eighteen years old, I didn’t even know half of the things that happened to me really did happen! I coped the best way I could, so fuck you for blaming eighteen year old me!” I breathe heavily after I finish. The bowl of rice has toppled over all over my feet but I’m too angry to notice. This is what I needed to say after all these years. This is my honest truth. I’ve freed myself of the guilt I’ve held for all these years. 

Yoongi stays quiet, his gaze on mine as I stay above him. Namjoon looks at me too, aghast. I feel relieved but so big at the same time. Like a monster. 

“Kanako…” Yoongi whispers. “I know, I-I’m sorry. That was…” His voice trails off. 

I feel tears trickling down my face and wipe them quickly, slumping back down on the seat. Instead of running away, I stay. This time I will stay. 

JULY 10TH, 2023, 9:00PM

Yoongi ended up paying for dinner, even with how much of a slight disaster it turned out to be. We ended up continuing talking, rather casually, after our argument. It was the best I could do without leaving again. I wanted to stay there and fix things. But it was better to ignore it. 

Jungkook and Jimin stand outside, clearly done with a deep talk. Jungkook is smoking once again. I feel like I should say something about it, maybe even a joke. But I’m not sure if that’s my place anymore. Was it ever?

“Hey guys. Kanako. Sorry about that.” Jimin apologizes weakly. It’s obvious he’s sobered up a bit from the last time I saw him, but even under the street lights I can see he has a long way to go. 

“Don’t worry about it.” I promise him. Jungkook throws down his cigarette like he’s done it a million times before. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks over to me, eyeing the sky. His familiar unwillingness for eye-contact is more obvious than ever. 

“Hi Jungkook.” I say as he approaches me. 

He looks over to the boys behind me, hesitant to speak. “I understand now. I can’t imagine at that age having to go through what you did.” He confesses. He pulls me in for a random but pleasant hug. His body is much more solid than I remember, not as easy to hold, but his scent has stayed the same. How is that even possible? 

I accept the embrace and wrap my arms around him tightly, having to hold back tears. This feels so nice. I missed this. I wasted years longing for it again. There’s still an unanswered question of what exactly Jimin meant, but I let it slide. I let my mind clear completely to enjoy the present. 

“I missed you so much Jungkook.” I muffle into his chest. My eyes water. 

“Stay with me tonight. W-With us. Like old times.” He whispers as his head sits on top of mine. 

My body is lit like a furnace. It’s comforting this time, not intense. They can read my mind so easily. I want to, I have to. For one night before they leave, I will. 

“Okay.” 

click here to read more of this story!

a/n: I know nothing about grown up jobs or how they work!!! keep that in mind dear god!!!

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

I'm Saying It Now

My best friend's funeral was on December 15; slightly over 2 months ago. His death was brutally unexpected, and he had a distanced and (perhaps overly) private, if not strained, relationship with his family and with his partner of over 20 years, so it was clear at the services that not much was carefully planned, or crafted to what A would have wanted. Honestly, no one likely knew what he'd want at his funeral; I doubt anyone ever discussed it with him. Or rather, I doubt he ever discussed it with anyone. Not that he lived his life in reckless denial of the realities of mortality; just that he didn't open up to many people about anything, including people he was 'supposed' to be supremely close to, like his parents, or his partner. I know he wasn't discussing it with his kid; too morbid and anxiety-inducing. And he never talked about it with me, either, likely for the same reasons. I'd told him countless times over the decades of our friendship, in not-quite-jesting ways, not to die. 'Don't die.' 'You better not die.' 'Don't fucking die, man.' 'You're not allowed to die.' 'Don't die on me.' 'You can never die.' He usually came back at that with, 'I'm not planning on it,' or, 'I'm trying my best not to,' or, '10-4, boss,' or a couple of times even, 'Jennifer, Jesus Christ, you're so fretty.' So, probably obviously, we never had a bestie chat during a viewing of NCAA tournament basketball that went, 'So in the event of my death, I want to be cremated and my ashes shot into space, and I want you to read this section from Marcus Aurelius's Meditations, and if any ex-girlfriends from high school show up, flip them off...'

Anyway, at the services, which were small and short and too religious for A's taste and belief system, and not religious enough for more than half the mourners (his estranged family), the officiant, who didn't know A at all, was full of the vague spiritual platitudes so many people use around death. He said about 1000 empty words and then opened the floor up to people to share about A. One of his aunts got up, sobbing, and said how much she loved A when he was a little boy in choppy, tearful sentences. No one else stood up. Not his father; not his partner; not his son; not his best friend (me). I couldn't do it. I couldn't stand up; I couldn't speak, definitely not off the cuff. It was hard and painful to even be there accepting that reality on any level, and I'm not a huge fan of speaking out loud, even privately and about cheerful things, to even my closest connections. But these are pale excuses, and I'm ashamed of myself for not standing up to speak about my best friend, one of the most important people in my life, one of the greatest loves of my life.

So I'm saying it now.

Saying it here, to you folks, who at least sort of know and care about ME, is I'm hoping equal to, if not better than, saying it to a room full of people who pretty clearly didn't know shit about A. I hope someone there other than his aunt, who probably still saw him as an 8 year old, really cared about him. I hope they were just like me; they cared so much they couldn't verbalize it on the spot.

Here's my eulogy for A; the one I wish I stood up to say.

A was my best friend. He still is the best friend I ever made. He's the friendship in my life that's been the most close and consistent and lasted the longest. He helped me through the hardest part of my life, and he helped me every time I struggled with anything hard, no matter how often I asked. And I often asked. He was the only person for a large portion of my life I ever asked for help with anything. And he always helped. He never once complained about it. I have a vivid memory of being so overwhelmed with a calculus problem once, that I called him, desperate and in tears. "I've been working this problem for over an hour, and I can't get it. I can't get this. I'm going to fail the next test. I'm not going to pass the AP test. I'm not going to graduate college because I'll have to take math, and I'll have to do it without YOU, and I'll fail..." I'd filled up the front and most of the back of a sheet of college ruled notebook paper with figures and formulas; erased and tried again, over and over. To say higher math was 'easy' for A would be a gross understatement. He really could do calculus in his head. It was effortless, sometimes seemingly involuntary, like he could somehow divine answers through magic (or that's how I perceived it). I felt for sure I was bothering him, asking for help (again) on something he thought was boringly simple. Maybe disappointing him, because I needed help with something he thought was boringly simple. He said, "You're way out ahead of yourself and freaking out. WHY did you wait an HOUR?! Where are you at?" I told him, reading off lines of calculation, sniffing and gasping back more math-panicked crying. "You messed up line 6. Jennifer. You did 50 or 60 lines of extra work. Just call me when you hit the first wall next time. An HOUR. An HOUR and you made yourself CRY. You are not going to fail the next text. (Correct. I didn't.) You are going to pass the AP exam. (Correct. I did.) Even if you have to take college math, you'll pass. You can do it without me. (I'll never know if he was right that time; I didn't have to take college math; because he got me through AP Calculus alive.)" Higher math wasn't really the hard part of my middle school and high school life, though; it was that I was alone in everything, not just calculus homework. My grandparents had passed away, and I was far away from any connections I'd made as a child, without cell service or internet. At a time when I had no one to count on and no meaningful connection, I met A. He WAS my support system in its entirety for almost a decade. And he never let me feel like a chore. In fact, he usually seemed HAPPY to help me. He's helped me through a lot of other stuff that was way more difficult than advanced mathematics. Today is the hardest day of my life, saying goodbye to him. The most difficult thing I've ever struggled with. I'd rather do calculus problems all day, every day, in perpetuity, than say goodbye to him. I'm aching to call A so he can help me do it. A, I'm going to miss you every day of what's left of my life. And not just because you aren't here to walk me through the hard stuff. The pieces of me that you shaped and salvaged are pretty huge and consequential. I can't do the math that quantifies how much I'm missing now. I can just tell stories. I was always secretly hoping you'd tell me one day that you were getting married and you'd say 'fuck it' to tradition, and ask me to be your best man. The only speech I'd ever be happy to give. I had a sappy literary quote all picked out for the hypothetical toast. But I'm saying it now instead, to close a speech I am devastated to give and never wanted to give. C. S. Lewis, in The Last Battle, the final book of The Chronicles of Narnia, wrote,

"Now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before."

I always thought that was a great quote for a wedding; a hopeful wish for the beginning of a loving commitment in marriage. But he wrote it as a speculation of the afterlife. I know neither of us ever had a lot of confident or overt faith in an afterlife, but damn I sure hope you're in a happy story now, in which every chapter is better than the one before. I love you. That won't ever change. I hope we meet again some day in a happy chapter.

[fallenstar193]

Secret’s of the Night Part 2

Micheal Corleone x Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N and Michael’s relationship has deepened much more. Though the cracks begin to show behind closed doors. But even so, nothing will tear them apart.

Y/N and Michael weren't what people would call a happy, well-balanced couple.

It wasn't because they didn't love one another, which they did, nor because they weren't happy in each other's arms, which they were. But no matter how much they adored one another, their relationship was anything but well-balanced and normal.

Michael had grown as a Don more and more so with each passing month, his need for control and violence becoming second nature to the young Italian-American man.

That meant that Y/N had to deal with his volatile mood swings, as well as his late-night meetings and violent outbursts. There was no question he was a different man from the young boy he had once been before his father died. He was even different from the man Y/N had married only a year before.

Being his third wife wasn't easy either. Especially not when the mother of his children was still in his life and loathed Y/N with a fit of searing anger no one could control.

Every time she arrived to drop off the children, Kay made a point of talking down to Y/N, even when Michael warned her multiple times, not to any longer.

But what could Michael do? He had slapped his ex-wife while they were still married, but short of having the mother of his children killed, he couldn't entirely stop that sharp tongue even if he tried.

Once or twice Michael had slapped his ex-wife across the face to calm her down, but this only managed to make Kay's hatred toward Y/N grow even stronger.

"You're just a silly entertainment for him, and little more," She once hissed at Y/N as the children rushed into their father's study to let him know they had arrived.

"I'm nothing of the sort," Y/N hissed back, crossing her arms before her chest. Y/N knew better than to jump at the older woman; it would be insane to attack the mother of Michael's children. She just had to deal with her until her jealousy died away over time. That didn't mean she couldn't talk back to her and put Kay back in her place. "I might have been his lover once, but now I have a ring around my finger. I don't see one around yours."

"I'm the one that divorced him, slut. He wouldn't have given you the time of day if I hadn't kicked him to the curve."

"Keep dreaming," Y/N replied, rolling her eyes and playing with her wedding ring, just to aggravate Kay. "He ran to me whenever you turned your back on him."

The look on Kay's face made it clear she was just about ready to jump on his ex's new wife when Michael entered the living room with his children in tow.

"What's going on here?" He asked, staring harshly at his ex-wife. She just pursed her lips and shook her head forcefully.

"Nothing. I was just about to leave." Kay replied, and Michael agreed at once.

"Yes, you better do that. Children, say goodbye to your mother." He said, and the children kissed Kay goodbye.

"I'll see you on Monday," She told them tenderly, caressing her kids' heads before turning around and leaving the house she had once lived in, yet not before shooting a harsh glare Y/N's way.

If looks could kill... Y/N thought, but she decided to brush it off. After all, Kay was now alone, and she had won the man they were both bickering over a long time ago.

Kay showing up at their place wasn't helping their relationship get any better, that was for sure.

Michael and Y/N seemed to be arguing more and more often. Though Y/N didn't mind him being a mafia boss as Kay had, she did have a problem with him coming back so late most nights, obsessing over his business instead of spending time with her.

His attitude was also less patient than ever and more aggressive, and though Y/N adored being spanked and pinned down during sex, that didn't mean she wanted to have him snapping at her all day long.

"You're becoming a real jackass," He hissed his way one afternoon after yet another argument over God-only knew what.

"And you're being insufferable, Y/N. Can't you give me a little break? I already have enough people wanting things of me. Everyone seems to want something from the Corleone family!"

"It's what you've always wanted, isn't it, Michael?!" She asked back, crossing her arms defensively. "Why do you always have to be so angry, so aggressive? I love being around you, Michael, but you need to remind me you are still in love with me from time to time."

"Oh, don't say that Y/N, you know I love you," He whispered, wrapping his arms around her body hotly, just like he used to back when they were lovers. Michael pulled her into his embrace, pinning the young woman against his chest sensually.

They kissed so passionately, their tongues dancing the same kind of dangerous tango they would every time they were about to make love.

Just then, though, someone knocked at the door, and Michael reluctantly let go of his wife.

"What is it?!" He snapped, turning around and glaring at one of his employees, who quietly entered the bedroom.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Don Corleone. It's time for the meeting you asked me to remind you of."

Michael pursed his lips and nodded, dismissing the man in the dark suit before turning around to face his wife.

"I'm sorry, darling. I'll be back before midnight, and I can show you how much I adore you then," He said, trying to grab her hands, but she stepped back, shaking her head.

"Whatever you say, Michael," She replied sharply, walking away from her darling husband. No matter how much she loved him, she also needed company, and he seemed unable or unwilling to provide her with it.

That was precisely how Y/N began growing closer to one of Michael's close friends, Luca.

Luca was around Michael's age, and of course, belonged to his organization. He wasn't as high up in the family, which meant he had more time than the Don to enjoy his private time. He still hung around the Corleone household often, and bit by bit, he took a shinning for the young, lonely Y/N.

"I can stay for a cup of coffee if you need a bit of company," He offered her one night, just as he was getting ready to leave. Michael wasn't there, as usual, and feeling lonesome, Y/N immediately agreed.

"Sure, that sounds lovely!" She replied at once and asked one of the maids to prepare them two cups of coffee and a few pie slices.

That was the first night they started hanging out together, but certainly not the last one.

It wasn't like they were doing anything wrong. They were never together in her bedroom, always chatting in the living room or out in the garden.

They spent hour upon hour chatting idly, drinking coffee or tea and simply enjoying each other's company. It was nothing more than a simple friendship, though Y/N noticed how he seemed interested in something more from time to time.

Since he never made a move, never attempted to kiss her or even take her hand, she decided to turn a blind eye to this fact. As long as he acted as her friend and confidant, she wouldn't ask him to leave her alone.

She needed a friend in her life, after all, someone to keep her company and make her smile through the day. Michael wasn't there for her, and it wasn't exactly easy for a mob wife to make new friends, so Luca was the best alternative out there.

For a few months, everything seemed to be going well. With Luca there to offer an ear and a friendly smile, Y/N was feeling better about her lonely days. She was even more patient with Michael's erratic schedule and his occasional bad mood.

She assumed he knew about the time she spent with his friend since nothing in that household was truly a secret. Y/N was confident that if Michael had a problem with it all, she would have found out about it a long time ago!

"He's surely happy that I have someone to talk to. We're getting along better now. Since it's his friend, he knows he can trust this man around me," She told herself, though nothing could have been further from the truth.

Because Michael had no idea Y/N had been hanging out two or three times a week with his old friend, and the moment he found out about their meetings, he would immediately assume the worse.

It was a rainy night when Michael entered the Corleone household, escorted by three of his bodyguards as usual. Y/N was chatting with Luca in the living room, giggling at a silly joke he told her.

The instant Michael heard his wife laughing that way, he immediately stormed into the room. Even though the door was open and anyone could have walked in on them, just seeing Luca sitting by his wife's side was enough to make him go red in the face, his lips becoming a thin, angry line.

"Michael, hi! Is everything ok?" Y/N asked, standing up as she noticed how livid her husband is. "What's wrong, honey?"

"What is he doing here?" Michael demanded at once, staring at his wife and then at his friend. "At this time of night in my living room, with my wife?!"

"Michael, it's not what you think!" Luca replied at once, standing up, looking worried and pale. It was then that Y/N realized Michael had no idea about their meetings. Luca had never told him, for some reason!

What was simply an innocent chat among two friends had become something far more suspicious all of a sudden, and seeing Michael's furious expression let her know something awful was about to happen in that room.

"You have no right to be alone with my wife!" Michael screamed harshly, clearly so furiously, so livid and red-faced.

"Michael, it's not like that!" Y/N replied, trying to grab his arm tenderly, but he stepped away. "We're just chatting, we're good friends, and I can speak to him when you are busy!"

"So he's a replacement?!"

"No, it's not like that; I'm serious! He's just a friend!"

"I want to make this clear, Y/N," He said awfully quietly, almost in a whisper, which made Y/N know something horrible was about to happen. "You belong to me and to no one else. You are my wife, and you're not going to abandon me like Kay did. I love you, you are mine, and that's final."

But Michael didn't hurt his wife. He would never hurt her, not in a million years, even if he did sometimes lose his temper. Instead, he turned to face his old friend, who tried in vain to reason with the Don.

Michael refused to listen to reason, and, sliding his hand in his side pocket, he pulled out a gun and aimed it at Luca. His aim was perfect as he shot two single times: One in the heart, the next one through the forehead.

It was so quick, so harsh and cold-blooded that it took Y/N a full moment to even be able to react. She stood there, wide-eyed and shocked until she could finally snap out of it, screaming in horror as she took a step back.

"What the hell did you do?!" She asked, her heart going a million miles an hour.

"Come with me," He demanded, grabbing her hand and pulling at it, guiding his wife out the living room and into the corridor. "Get rid of the body," He told the bodyguards before dragging Y/N upstairs.

Once they had stepped into their bedroom, Michael closed the door behind them and turned to face Y/N.

"You are mine, Y/N, now and forever." He whispered, wrapping his arms around her slender body and pulling her close.

"How could you make such a mess?! I told you we are only friends!" She protested, but he wouldn't allow her to speak any further. He silenced her, not with a gun but with his lips. Their kiss was impossibly passionate, tongues dancing together, his hands caressing her body in ways that drove the young beauty crazy with desire.

He guided her toward their bed, and oh, how he undressed her, how he stroked her gorgeous body. He was filled with a blind passion she could not and would not control. Y/N gave herself into his desires. Though she was mad he had made such a mess, killing poor Luca, she was delighted he adored her in such a way that he would kill to keep her by his side.

Soon they were lying naked on the bed, their clothes pooling messily on the floor.

"You're perfect, my beautiful wife... you're never going to abandon me. You are mine now and forever," He grunted against her skin as he kissed her neck hotly. She closed her eyes and stretched out her neck to allow him to nibble at it with growing passion.

Michael stroked her nipples sensually, flickering them from side to side, claiming over her body as she gave in to the passion of their intense relationship.

He was not perfect, yet he was hers, and she was his, and that would never change!

Y/N began caressing his back hotly as he pinned her hard against the bed, his hands everywhere, her skin so hot, her body so ready for his touch.

She felt his cock pressed against her inner thigh, and oh how she gasped, aching to be fucked, to feel his, fully his!

"I want your tongue on my cock, beautiful. I want to feel your lips wrapped around me," He grunted, sliding off her and allowing her to get between his legs instead, ready to show to her husband how much she adored him, even after the mess he had made downstairs.

She licked it gently at first, enjoying the taste and smell of his arousal. But pretty soon, her lips were wrapped around his bulbous head, and she was moving down on him, taking every last inch into her eager mouth.

Y/N began twirling her tongue around it passionately, bobbing her head up and down her husband's cock. Her lips and tongue explored his length as Michael panted and rested his hand on her head.

She was so aroused by his moans and grunts, and she began moving her head up and down his shaft faster than before, sucking him with an intense, blind passion!

She felt his long, calloused fingers wrapping around her hair, helping her keep up her pace. And oh, how he grunted as she rolled her tongue around his bulbous head, gulping down his precum with delight and arousal.

"Fuck, yes! I need to be inside you so badly!" He grunted, and soon he forced her to slide off his cock, a string of precum and drool connecting his crown to her lips for an instant.

He positioned himself behind her, prompting Y/N to get on all fours, his favorite position to fuck her in. He could spank her so easily while making love passionately to her from behind.

"Oh, god! Yes, Michael, yes," Y/N panted as the Don thrust hard inside her, his cock plunging inside her as powerfully as ever.

And so Michael began to move behind her, his hips rolling all the way back before he thrust hard inside her. With each new thrust, a spank would arrive as well, until her ass was red and sore, and Y/N was dripping with arousal.

"Fuck, your pussy's perfection, Y/N," He grunted, feeling her walls clenching so hard around his cock.

"Yes, yes, yes!" She moaned loudly, panting hard as they made passionate, sensual love. They rarely, if ever, made sweet love. It simply wasn't their style.

"I love you, Y/N... you are mine!" He grunted from behind, plunging himself harder and harder inside her tight sex.

Her stunning boobs bounced back and forth with each new thrust, filling the room with the sounds of their arousal, of their bodies crashing together.

She moaned again and again, throwing her head back and whimpering as his hand came crashing down against her ass. It was so red and sore, but she didn't ask him to stop: she loved every minute of it!

The passionate, wild love for what felt like hours, until their bodies were covered in perspiration and her sex was filled with his cum.

He was so possessive of her, and Y/N adored every instant of it.

They ended up falling asleep in each other's arms, exhausted and elated, feeling that deep connection linking them together forever only grew stronger.

Months slipped by after that fateful night, and though things were never quite easy, something seemed to have improved in their relationship.

Y/N soon began feeling nauseous and uncomfortable, though, her body so overly sensitive to any small touch. Even smells that never bothered her before were starting to be a problem.

She had an inkling about what might be causing these issues, and so, without telling Michael about it, the young beauty bought a pregnancy test.

Sliding into the bathroom late one night, she peed on the tiny stick and sat there, waiting, feeling her heart beating so fast in her chest.

"Oh my god..." She whispered as the test came out positive.

Michael was getting ready to sleep by the time she leaped into their bed, embracing him so tightly and covering his face with excited kisses.

"Hey, hey," He chuckled, holding her close and kissing her back. "What's got you so excited, beautiful?"

"Oh, Michael, you won't believe it!" She squealed, smiling so brightly, so beautifully. "I'm pregnant!"

He stared at her with stunned silence for an instant before a huge grin filled his face, and Michael kissed Y/N once more, this time with an impossible-to-miss glee going hand in hand with his passion for her.

"I can't believe it! It's the best news I've heard in a long time!" He exclaimed, holding her so tightly, caressing her belly, and covering her with sweet kisses.

They made love that night, and the following morning, Michael arranged for them to visit the same doctor that had helped deliver his other two children.

As she laid on the gurney, and the doctor applied a generous layer of gel on her belly, Michael held Y/N's hand tenderly, clearly filled with joy about this turn of events.

But the surprises were far from over as the ultrasound began.

"Here's your baby, here's its heartbeat and... oh, wait!" The doctor exclaimed, continuing to slide the ultrasound probe across Y/N's belly. "Congratulations, mom and dad... it's twins!"

"Twins?!" Y/N and Michael exclaimed at the same time.

"Oh, yes, no question about it... look! Here you have one of your babies, and here's the other!"

Y/N and Michael stared at one another in stunned silence for a moment before an excited smile began to spread across their faces.

"Is that ok?" She whispered sweetly, and he nodded at once, holding her hand even harder than before, with such love and devotion.

"It's more than ok, my love. I can't wait to meet our twins." He assured her, kissing his wife lovingly. Y/N knew that no matter how rocky their marriage could get from time to time, they'd always be together.

[dottielovegood]

Trick or Treat (Elriel)

Chapter 1/2: What to wear? Rating: Explicit Read on AO3 ________________________________

It’s been a year since Elain and Azriel met at a Halloween party. That time, they were dressed as Kylo Ren and Rey. What will their costumes be this year?

(the second chapter should be posted around Halloween)

---------------------------------------- This is the second part of my Halloween fic that I wrote last year. If you want to read part one, you can find it here

One year. 

It had almost been an entire year since I met Azriel at a Halloween party. One year since I asked the tall guy dressed as Kylo Ren to be my fake-date. A year since he asked me if I wanted to leave said party and go to his place. 

A lot can happen in a year. 

A year ago I was living with my sister, Nesta, in a small apartment. I had sworn off men after my ex, Graysen, cheated on me and almost gave me chlamydia. Most nights, I lay awake, watching Star Wars just to make the hours go by. My life was boring. Monotonous. And a bit sad. 

And then he walked into my life. Or maybe I walked into his? 

Either way, my entire life was changed in just one night. Not only because I had the most mind blowing sexual experience of my life (which I did have, thank you very much), but because Azriel was everything I had been missing. Before him, I thought that relationships were supposed to be difficult. Growing up, I had been told that relationships required hard work. I thought that I had to give and give and give until there was nothing left, just to make the relationship work. And if a relationship failed, it was probably my fault for not trying hard enough. 

And then, I met Azriel. And I thought that he was like other men. I thought that he just wanted a one night stand. I thought that he asked me out after having sex with me just to make himself feel a bit better about fucking me like that. I thought that he would leave me, just like everyone else.  

But he didn’t, and he didn’t let me leave, either. And for the first time in my life, I don’t have to fight. For the first time in my life, everything just feels right. We are just right. 

After dating for only six months, I moved into his apartment. I was already spending most of my time there anyway, and Nesta wasn’t exactly sad about getting to live by herself. I worried about living together at first. What if he were to grow bored of me? What if we started fighting about silly things like doing the dishes or putting the lid back on the toothpaste? 

I needn’t have worried. Since moving in with Azriel, there have been exactly zero fights. Sure, we’ve had discussions and sometimes, we have to compromise, yet we never fight. Before him, I thought that passion came from fighting. Now, I almost laugh at my old self. She had no idea what passion was. No fucking clue. 

Now, I know. 

“Hi,” I said as I stepped out of the bathroom. Azriel was half laying, half sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone. The room was dark except for two candles on the side table that I had lit earlier in the evening. As most Fridays, we had spent the evening together - having dinner and watching a movie. It was my favorite part of the week. 

“Hi,” he said, his eyes still on his phone. That wouldn’t do. 

I cleared my throat and gave him my most innocent look. “Do you like my outfit?”

Finally, Azriel looked at me. Phone suddenly forgotten, he sat up a bit straighter. “Is that my shirt, Elain?” I could practically feel his eyes traveling down my body. I stroked my hands over the fabric of his black t-shirt.

“Yes.” I played with the hem of the shirt. I knew how much he loved seeing me in his clothes. After that first night we spent together, he had given me a shirt to sleep in. I thought nothing of it back then - I just thought he was being polite. But little did I know that it’s his odd way of marking his territory. Not that I mind. It’s an easy way to get him excited - I just have to put on something of his and then I have him wrapped around my finger. 

Azriel was staring at my feet, a smile playing on his lips. “I like the socks.”

I wiggled my toes in my fuzzy sock. They had little pumpkins on them - which was very fitting for this time of year. “The floor is cold,” I pouted. 

“Hmm,” Azriel put his phone down on the coffee table and sat back, opening his arms. “Better come warm yourself up, then”. 

As I said - wrapped around my finger. 

I smiled and made my way over to him. He was wearing his blue and maroon pyjama bottoms and - shockingly - a blue t-shirt. Most people would assume that his favorite color was black, seeing that he only wore black outside the house. But here, in our home, he actually wore many different colors. Sometimes, it felt like our little secret. Like I was privy to things that nobody else knew about this man. Like the fact that his favorite color is actually blue - not black. 

I leaned forward and placed my hands on his shoulders and my legs on either side of his hips. I sank down until I was straddling him. His hands instantly went to my thighs, caressing my skin just where his t-shirt ended. 

I let my lips ghost over his. I could feel his breath on my lips, feel his heartbeat underneath my palm where it rested on his chest. “I love you,” I whispered. He closed the distance between us, kissing me softly. Slowly. Like he was savoring the taste. “You are my everything, Elain,” he said in between kisses and I melted against him. How did I get this lucky? Some days, I was certain that my life was a dream and that one day, someone would pinch me and I would wake up because surely, life couldn’t be this good? 

But it was. Life was this good and he was this good and he was mine and we were everything I had ever wished for. He was every dream I ever dreamed. He was soft and kind and gentle. He took care of me and loved me in a way no one had ever done before. And then, there was this other part of him. The part I had only gotten a glimpse of that night a year ago. The part that made me burn all over and beg for things I didn’t even know I wanted.  That side of him was usually reserved for the bedroom. Reserved for me . It was like living in the best of both worlds, like the wise philosopher Hannah Montana once sang. 

We kissed for minutes, or hours, or maybe years. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind spending years like this - in Azriel’s lap, kissing and tasting and touching. God, I hoped that this was just the first year of many to come. 

After a while, I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned my head against his chest. His heartbeat was my favorite sound. “I can’t believe that it’s almost been a year,” I sighed. I pressed myself impossibly closer to him. One of his hands stroked up my back as he kissed the top of my head. “Best year of my life.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Mine too.” Azriel’s fingers played with my hair and I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy just being here with him, like this. “Thank god you wanted to be my fake date,” I said, smiling at the memory of him in his Kylo Ren costume. Azriel chuckled. “And thank god that you weren’t disappointed when I removed the mask.” “And thank god that you weren’t one of those guys who hate Rey.”

“And thank god that you wanted to leave that party with me.”

I sat up straighter again, my hands cradling his neck. I played with the short strands of his hair as I met his gaze. “And thank god for the leather gloves,” I said playfully. 

Azriel laughed, “Who knew you had a glove kink?”

“I surely didn’t.”

He leaned forward and kissed my nose. “Is that your way of saying that I should wear gloves more often?”

“Maybe.” I wiggled my but a little, knowing fully well what kind of reaction that would get me. Azriel tensed and gave me a stern look. “But I think you’re doing pretty well without them.” I continued and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” I breathed against his lips. “Speaking of Halloween,” I continued. “We really need to decide what we are going to wear to Rhys and Feyre’s party this year.” Our lips were just touching, teasing. I think we were both driving ourselves a little bit crazy. I was just about to turn the teasing into kissing when he pulled back slightly. “I was going to wear the same thing as last year.”

I frowned. “Really?”

“Yes. Why? Is that a problem? I thought you liked that costume.” One of his hands was now stroking my thigh just below the t-shirt. I had ridden up quite a bit, which meant that he was teasing the edge of my panties with his fingertips.

“I do like that costume,” I said, trying very hard to focus on our conversation and not his fingers. “But you can’t wear the same outfit two years in a row.”

“Why not? It’s not like anyone will remember what we wore last year, nor will they care.”

I frowned. “People will remember. And I care.”

“Then you can wear something else and I’ll go as Kylo.” The hand that wasn’t teasing my thigh was now at the base of my neck, angling my head so he had better access to my throat. The feeling of his lips on my jaw made a shiver run down my spine. 

“Azriel,” I began but the rest of the sentence caught in my throat when he kissed that sensitive spot just below my ear. “I want to wear matching costumes.”

He hummed against my skin but said nothing as he continued pressing gentle kisses down the column of my throat. 

“I had a few ideas,” I said, sounding breathless even to my own ears. 

“I’m listening,” Azriel said, his lips never leaving my skin. He moved his other hand from my thigh to my ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Well, I was thinking…” a moan escaped me as his teeth lightly scraped my neck. “Maybe we could go as Hermione and Draco. From Harry Potter.” 

Once again, Azriel pulled away. I almost whimpered at the loss of his lips on my skin. 

His eyes met mine and there was a small frown between his eyebrows. “They’re teenagers. In school uniforms.”

“If we do the movie version you can just wear a black suit since that’s what Draco wears in the last movies.”

“Hmm.” Azriel seemed to be turning the idea over in his head. “There is just one little problem with this plan.”

“What?”

“I’m not blond, Elain.”

I shrugged. “We could get you a wig.” He made a disgusted face. Okay, so no wigs. I stroked his soft hair with my fingertips. “Or we could dye it.”

Azriel let out a horrified laugh. “Over my dead body.” I pouted. “Please.” “I’m using my veto on this one,” he said, squeezing my ass again. “Any other ideas?” “Well, my other idea was Buffy and Spike.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, but I could see a small smile playing on his lips. “Any ideas that don't involve us dying our hair?” I took the opportunity to move my body against his. He was hard underneath me - had been hard since I sat down in his lap. God, I really wanted him to just have his way with me. But I also wanted to decide on a costume. What to do, what to do…

I could feel his entire body stiffen and his grip on my ass and neck tightened. “Elain…” I forced myself to think of Halloween costumes. Forced myself to not think about how good it would feel to have him inside me right now. I was going to get him to decide on something tonight. “Maybe Anakin and Padme?” “I was Anakin four years ago,” he said. His voice was lower now. Rougher. Like he was holding back.

“Really?”

“Yes. The older version.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “So, you were Darth Vader?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“I think you would have liked it. It involved gloves,” he teased. I rolled my eyes. “I don’t have a glove kink.”

“Sure you don’t,” he said under his breath. I leaned my forehead against his, grinding against him once more. I needed the friction. I needed so many things that only he could give me. “So, we can go as Padme and Anakin?” I moved against him again, earning myself a low growl in response. “Please?” I begged innocently. Azriel grabbed my hips with both hands, holding me still. “Are you using your body to persuade me, Elain?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

I gave him the sweetest smile I could muster. “I can be very persuasive.” He said nothing. He just looked down at where our bodies met and I knew that he was just as desperate as I was. He was going to go along with my request, I just knew it. 

“So, it’s decided?” I asked, desperate for him to just say yes already. 

There was a beat of silence before his eyes returned to mine. “Maybe…”

“Maybe?” “Maybe.” He pulled me closer until my core was pressed against his hardness. I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped me. “But I might have an even better idea.”

I really hoped that his idea involved me getting my way when it came to Halloween costumes, and then him taking me right here on the couch.

“And what is your idea?”

He smirked and moved his hips slightly, making me gasp as his dick pressed against my clit in just the right way.

“Do you trust me?” he asked. He could have asked me almost anything at this point and the answer would have been yes. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. But I forced myself to keep at least a bit of my sanity. If only for a few more minutes. 

“You know I do.”

“And do you trust me enough to buy the costumes and give you yours on the day of the party.”

My entire body was screaming at me to say yes. To just give in. Especially when Azriel moved his hand and slid it between our bodies, finding that place I so desperately needed him to touch. But there was also a control freak inside of me telling me to not go along with this plan. There were too many things that could go wrong. 

I closed my eyes and forced myself to focus on anything but the his clever fingers and his heavenly scent and his stupid, handsome face. 

“No,” I rasped. “We have to decide now.”

“Hmm,” Azriel kissed my jaw. My eyes were still closed. “Do we now?”

“Yes.” The word was nothing more than a breath. Azriel was massaging my clit through my panties, his lips teasing my throat. He hummed against my skin. I let myself enjoy the sensations. Enjoy him. The hand on my hip disappeared for a moment just as Azriel’s hips shifted underneath me. I didn’t care. I didn't care about anything but the orgasm that was building inside me. I just needed a little more. Just a little…

And then his fingers were gone. “Azriel, what…” I didn’t even get the chance to finish my sentence before I could feel the head of his cock where his fingers had just been. I cursed myself for wearing underwear. I should have taken them off when I put on his shirt. Rookie mistake.  I forced myself to open my eyes, to look down.

Azriel was holding his cock in his hand, slowly moving against my aching core. I let out a shaky whimper at the sight. God, I needed him. We could continue this conversation later. “Azriel,” I pleaded, hoping that he knew what I was asking for. 

“Is this what you want, Elain? You want me to fill you up?” 

I almost felt my eyes roll back in my head at those words. God, this man and his dirty words did things to me. I nodded, silently begging him please, please, please. 

“Use your words,” he demanded, and the tone of his voice forced me to look up and meet his gaze. His eyes were dark. Hungry. He was done playing games. Or maybe, we were just starting to play? I didn’t really know. Didn’t care. I only cared about having him inside me.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Please.”

“Please, what?” 

This was his favorite game. The game where I, very specifically, told him exactly what I wanted. “Please, I want you inside.” I moaned when he moved his cock against my aching core again. “Please.”

The corner of Azriel’s mouth turned into something akin to a grin, but there was no teasing or playfulness in the way he looked at me. No, it was all dominance and power. “Move your panties to the side and show me exactly what you want,” he all but growled. 

I braced myself with one hand on his shoulder as I lifted my body. He held his cock as I moved my panties to the side, feeling how wet they were already. Would I ever get enough of this man? I doubted it. I moved again so the head of his cock was right at my entrance and it felt like a current running through my entire body. I needed him like I needed oxygen. I needed him to soothe the emptiness inside me. 

“Slowly,” he murmured as I started to lower myself onto him. I tried to focus on him, tried to look him in the eye as I took all of him inside me. I bit my lip, trying to hold back my moans. His cock stretched me, filled me. His name fell from my lips as I took him to the hilt, grinding down when he was fully sheathed inside me. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, returning his hands to my hips. 

I let myself get used to him - the feeling and the sheer size of him filling me up. I gripped his shoulder harder, needing something to keep me steady as moved. 

Or, tried to move. Because Azriel’s grip on me was bruising, unrelenting. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. What was he doing? “Does that feel good, sweetheart?” 

I could do nothing but nod. It felt too good. He always felt too good. But it was also torture. I needed friction. I needed more . 

As if he could read my mind, he asked, “You want to move, huh? You want to take your pleasure?” 

“Yes,” I whimpered and tried to move again. It was all in vain. Azriel held me down and I could do nothing as I felt myself clench around him. “Please.”

He chuckled darkly and the sound went straight to my core. I almost begged again. 

“You want so desperately to be in control, don’t you?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “What would happen if you gave up control, Elain? Just once.”

I shook my head, not really understanding what he was asking. I was so far from being in control, it wasn’t even funny. When it came to sex, he was always in control. So demanding, so dominant. And I gladly gave him my submission every single time. He nuzzled my neck, sending tingles down my spine. “Let me choose the Halloween costumes.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. “What?” “I'll let you move if you let me make this small decision.” His voice was low, almost a purr. “Don’t you want to move?”

I really did. He was so big inside me, I felt as if I didn’t know where I ended and he began. It only made me wetter. Needier. More desperate for…something. Anything. “I…” I gasped when his thumb found my clit. “What if you buy the wrong size?” I tried to reason even though my brain was a needy little mess at this point. 

“You think I don’t know your size?” Okay, fair point. He had bought me dresses before. And underwear. 

“But I want to look pretty,” I tried, trying to keep the little ounce of control I still had left. 

I could feel him smile against my skin. He kissed my neck once more and I was burning up. “You always look pretty,” he murmured. “Even in my shirt and these silly little pumpkin socks.” 

“I didn’t know you had a kink for fuzzy socks.” I wanted it to sound like a joke, but it came out more like a gasp since he, at this precise moment, started to massage my clit with expert movement. 

“I have a kink for you,” he chuckled. “Come on, give in.”

“But what if you buy a Shrek costume,” I whined. I had no idea where that thought came from, but I guess Shrek was the worst thing I could think of at this moment. Azriel let out a laugh. “Then I guess I will have to go dressed as a donkey.”

“That would be very fitting since you're being such an ass right now,” I muttered under my breath. 

One second, his hand was between us, caressing my clit, and then... it wasn’t. I barely had time to register the movement before he grabbed my throat, squeezing the sides of my neck. Not hard enough to stop the air from entering my lungs, but definitely hard enough to drive me crazy. He wasn’t playing fair - he knew what this did to me. 

“What was that?” 

“You’re an ass,” I whispered, knowing fully well that I would have to pay for that. I couldn’t wait. Azriel hummed and tilted my head slightly. When he pressed his lips to mine, I could do nothing but kiss him back. I closed my eyes and when his tongue teased my lower lip, I let him in. This kiss was everything but soft and teasing. It was desperate and feverish - burning me up from the inside. 

“Azriel,” I moaned. His grip around my neck tightened and I thought that I would die if I didn't get to move soon. “Please.”

“Just say yes,” he growled against my lips. “Just say yes and I’ll give you anything you want.”

I couldn’t think. My brain was incapable of forming sentences. Azriel’s other hand moved from my hips to my ass, finding its way underneath my underwear. The grip around my throat loosened slightly and I found comfort in his big hand just holding me. Guiding me. 

God, I was going to lose. I was going to let him have his way because there was no chance in hell that I could stand this torture much longer. 

I balled my fist in his shirt, kissing him harder. Trying to make him lose his own control. It didn’t work, I knew it wouldn’t. Azriel was never not in control. Even when I thought I had him wrapped around my finger, I didn’t. He could always bring me to my knees in the most delicious of ways. 

I felt one of Azriel’s fingertips at my entrance, caressing me just where he stretched me so completely. I whimpered into his mouth at the sensation. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Give in. I know what you want. What you need. Just say yes.”

Slowly, so slowly, he moved his finger further back. I gasped when I felt his finger right there , teasing me. “Az–” I couldn’t form sentences any more. The English language had left my brain. 

This wasn’t the first time he did this, nor was it all that surprising. We had definitely been more adventurous lately, yet I still felt myself blush every time he touched me like that. It felt so forbidden. So wrong. Like something I shouldn’t be doing. But my traitorous body went feral every time he did this. Every time his fingers, or other body parts, explored that other entrance. 

“Do you remember your safe word?” he asked, his eyes focusing on mine. They were almost black at this point, so dark it would have frightened me if I hadn’t known better. I nodded. “Yes,” I whispered, knowing that he needed me to use my words. 

“Do you need to use it?”

I focused on the sensations. I felt the way his cock filled me so completely and the way his finger was massaging that forbidden part of me. And there was absolutely nothing in me that wanted him to stop. 

I shook my head. “No.”

He smiled and kissed my cheek - such a gentle thing to do in a situation like this. “My good girl.”

There was a slight stretch and then the tip of his finger was inside me. I felt my eyes roll back at the sensation. There was no more space left inside me. I was completely filled by him. 

I wouldn’t be able to take this for much longer. 

I tried to focus my gaze. Tried to meet his eyes. He was already watching me, taking note of my every move - my every breath. He held me there, right at the edge. 

And I could do nothing but surrender. 

“Yes,” I whispered. 

“Yes?” He moved his finger and I was certain that I might die from overstimulation. 

“Yes, you can choose the stupid costumes,” I gritted out and the grin that spread across his face made me want to slap him. Or maybe kiss him. 

I chose the latter. 

“Good girl,” he groaned as I finally - finally - was allowed to move. 

The friction I was given did little to soften the ache inside me. I was still so completely full. His cock, his finger, his tongue, him . He was everywhere and everything and I was shaking. With my hands on his shoulders, I moved my body up and down his length and from the way he was kissing me, I could tell that I was not the only one going crazy here. He was devouring me. It was as if he couldn’t be close enough, couldn’t get enough. He needed me like I needed him and I needed him more than I needed to breathe. 

Azriel’s other hand was now on my ass, helping me move. On me, in me. He was everywhere and I still needed more. God, I was needy. A desperate mess.

“Please,” I whined, hoping that he knew what I was asking for. 

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, his lips never leaving mine. “Make yourself come on my cock. I want to feel how much you love being filled.” 

No sooner than the words left his mouth did I move my hand between our bodies. With two fingers, I touched myself just the way he usually did. I imagined that it was his fingers. I broke away from his bruising kiss, burying my face in the crook of his neck as I continued riding him. His cock felt so good and his finger did things to me that had me seeing stars. 

“I’m close.” I let myself breathe in his scent and it was like a drug, going straight to my head.

“Go on,” he said. “I’ve got you.” He kissed the top of my head and I was falling, falling. I sank down on his cock one last time and then I was coming. I screamed into Azriel’s skin as my orgasm tore through me, setting me on fire. This was everything and I was floating away.  My name was a prayer on his lips when he joined me in my pleasure, spilling inside me. 

We stayed like that for god knows how long - him still inside me, his hands caressing my back. I guess it took some time for me to come back to earth. Azriel kissed my forehead. “God, you are a fucking dream, Elain.” 

“A good dream I hope,” I answered sleepily. 

“The only one worth dreaming.”

I smiled and nuzzled even closer to him. “I wish we could stay like this forever,” I sighed. “With my cock inside you?” he chuckled. 

“Honestly, yes.”

“Well, I would definitely not protest,” he said. “Though it might be a bit inconvenient at times. Like when we have to go to work, or go to Halloween parties.”

“We can skip the party. You’re gonna make me dress up like Shrek anyway.”

He laughed. “Elain, I promise you that I am not going to buy you a Shrek costume.”

“Good,” I murmured, feeling too sleepy to keep my eyes open. The two candles I lit earlier had burnt out long ago. “But if you do decide on Shrek, I want to be Donkey.”

I felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. He kissed the top of my head and hugged me closer. “Noted.”

_________________________________

What do you think their costumes will be?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not supporting my friend’s relationship?

(@aita mod I pinky promise that this is not an “aita for thinking/feeling something” submission, I’m just a long winded mf)

Okay this is admittedly stupid stupid dumb but it’s bothering the hell out of me so here we go. I (26X) have a friend (23NB) who recently got into a nice, stable(?) relationship after a string of messy short-term ones. They’ve been dating for ~2 months now, and the guy (early 30s?M) seems really nice and genuine. My friend is very happy and gushes about him constantly, which makes sense because the relationship is fairly new and their most recent previous relationships were with people who weren’t very open or communicative at all. I feel like the only valid reason I could possibly have to not like this dude is the age gap, which is more of a personal ick as I’m not really comfortable with dating anyone more than 5 years older/younger than me. They’re both adults and it’s their love life, so whatever.

The thing is, I just…do not share their enthusiasm for this guy. At all. He seems like a cool guy, but the fact that he’s dating my friend just isn’t jiving in my brain for whatever reason. I’m getting an inexplicable weird vibe. When I see a picture of them doing cute couple shit on instagram or wherever, my reaction isn’t “that’s adorable, I’m so happy for [friendname]!” or even “I’m glad they’re happy!” It’s more like “eugh, why are they doing that? I don’t want to see this.” This isn’t a normal reaction for me at all. I’m usually very supportive of my friends’ relationships as long as there are no obvious red flags. The only reason I can think of as to why I might be reacting this way is that an acquaintance of mine was pushing me to get with this same guy a couple years ago for NO REASON, and I was absolutely not interested, so it might be leftover discomfort from that. I don’t (consciously?) hold that against him though, that was 100% my acquaintance’s strange bullshit. I’m mostly into women and fem dudes, so there’s no latent attraction to my (masc leaning) friend or their bf involved either.

Here’s the part where I might be the asshole: because of my weird uncomfortable reaction to seeing this dude and my friend together, I haven’t been liking or commenting on posts/messages/etc about them being together or how wonderful this guy is. Social media interaction/validation is a big thing for them, and eventually they noticed that I wasn’t interacting with anything pertaining to their relationship. I don’t think I was obvious about it or anything, just operating on the “if you don’t have anything nice to say…” principle. Regardless, they asked me about it, and I went completely deer-in-the-headlights. I ended up saying something like “I just didn’t have anything to say about those posts, it’s not really my business” but I could tell they weren’t convinced. They asked me what I thought of the guy and I told them he seemed nice but I didn’t know him that well. I think that just made them more suspicious because I’ve been working for the same company as the guy for about 3 years now, but it is technically true. After my first few months I got transferred to a different department and haven’t seen him since.

They looked really disappointed and asked me if I could try to be a little more supportive of their relationship online, reminding me that this is “the first nice person [they’ve] dated in years” and that they “went through hell to find him.” (I think they were referring to their most recent breakups and exaggerating hardcore. They were messy, but I’ve heard every little detail about those relationships from them and they sounded like they ended due to plain old incompatibility/lack of interest. I would only call one of their recent exes “not a nice person.”) They ended the conversation by telling me that they trusted me and my approval was really important to them, which made me feel like shit, but it didn’t really make me see the relationship in a different light or anything. l definitely FEEL like an asshole, because even after they talked to me about it I have no plans to lie and act super into their boyfriend when I’m not. I realize how petty all of this sounds, but it’s obviously affecting my friend a lot, or else they wouldn’t have spoken to me about it in person. It just feels like I’d be an even worse friend if I started regularly lying to them about what I think of their relationship, even though I don’t have a valid reason for feeling the way I do. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[thewanderingace]

It's amazing how well I can end a conversation. Or rather, it's amazing how easily people get pissed off and then just stop responding to me for no good reason.

I've got this one friend who sent me a message a while ago. It was definitely one of those fishing messages to see if I agree with her opinion and I definitely did not and said so. I guess she didn't like what I had to say (which was a polite way of saying she's being really insensitive towards a mutual friend and I don't like it nor do I agree) cause she just never responded to it at all.

Now she's messaged me again asking if I'm going to her child's 1 year birthday party and I'm not going for multiple reasons (which will be the focus for part 2 of this message). I replied and apologized. Said something like "I wanted to but I won't make it. I'm so sorry. 😭" Nothing. No response at all. Again. Guess she didn't like that either.

Jeezus fuck I'm so tired of people. Everything I say or do feels like walking on eggshells hoping I don't piss someone off. I hate it.

And I don't want to go to this party for so many reasons. 1) I don't know the kid at all. Just his mom. Literally never met her kid. My friend and I see each other like 3 times a year and maybe talk once a month. It's not like I'm close with the family or the kid in particular. 2) I don't know anyone else going. Literally no one. I don't know the rest of the family or her friends or anyone. The kid is 1. I only know his mom. Who the fuck am I gonna talk to all day? Cause it won't be her she'll be busy. So I'll just be what, standing awkwardly in the corner eating cake like a weirdo? No thanks. 3) I hate parties so fucking much. I hate them I hate them I hate them. I never want to go to a party. Ever. 4) She lives so far away. It's not like I can pop over, say hi and bounce. It's a commitment and an inconvenience to go.

Also this whole being invited to a child's birthday party thing now makes me have a trauma response which is not something I knew would happen but it did and that's just awesome. My ex friend whom I no longer speak too because she became very emotionally abusive that I had to block her on everything and cut off all contact. I've had several trauma reactions to things because of what she's done (for a while I couldn't hear my phone vibrate without having a panic attack thinking it was her messaging me) and I guess being invited to a friend's child's birthday party is now one of them. Especially when I can't go. And I know why. It's because of the reaction from ex friend after I couldn't go to her child's first birthday party because I had to work and she exploded and it became a huge thing. So now I guess I panic when this very particular situation I thought would never happen again....happens. Fantastic. Love it.

Anyways.

Life is hard. People suck. I'm tired. And tonight has not been easy.

Peace out

[theoldtimemoan]

When I was a kid growing up in northeast Ohio, I used to go along with my grandma to her weekly chemotherapy appointments at the old Lake East Hospital in Painesville. As I sat waiting with my mom, I’d pore over the pamphlets of historic photos that were scattered throughout the hospital. I was too young to really grasp what was going on, but I knew that it was painful and I needed a distraction, and so I was happy to let my mind wander to imagining what life had been like in my own town all those years ago.

My grandma passed when I was in the sixth grade, and the loss left a void in my life that couldn’t be filled. My grandfather, her ex-husband, was a big presence at times, but his relationship with my mom was marked by long periods of estrangement. My parents had split up while my mom was pregnant with me, and so I never knew my dad or any of my family on his side. My stepfather had lost his dad as a child and had had a bitter parting of ways from his mother after that. When my grandma died a portion of her collection of family photos was passed on to me. It turns out that that’s a lot of responsibility to put onto an eleven year old. My home life was scarred by domestic violence, drug and alcohol addiction, and a chronic instability. We moved around a lot, sometimes unexpectedly. Somewhere along the way almost all of those photos were lost. I was haunted by the sorrow and guilt of losing these invaluable connections to my own spotty history.

As time went on, I started bringing home photos of other people’s families, photos from antique shops and flea markets cheekily marked “Instant Relatives!” I didn’t know what I was seeking from them, but I knew that I needed them. I knew that they needed to be seen and that they deserved to be cherished, and if nobody else was doing it, well then it was up to me. 

In the summer I was forty, I was in my bedroom in my adopted home of Chicago looking through ancestry.com for information on a name I’d found scrawled on the back of a photo I’d picked up. I’d researched my own missing family before and I’d come up with very little, but on this day I stumbled upon my paternal grandmother’s remarried name, Synenberg, and with a quick internet search I found her contact information. That night I wrote her a note asking if she’d be interested in meeting, and she called me on the phone later that week. The next month I visited her for the first time at her home in Madison, Ohio, and I returned the next month to help celebrate her eighty fourth birthday. In the last years of her life we were very close, and when she passed away earlier this summer (June 22 to be precise), I stood next to her husband as her casket was closed for the last time. 

I miss my grandma a lot.  It is still very painful.  Sharing this is therapy for me.

The photos that make up The Old-Time Moan come from shops I frequent in and around Chicago, as well as places I visit in the tiny towns I grew up in back in Ohio. I can’t bring home every photo I find, but I know when I find one that I need. It’s more than “Instant Relatives!”, it’s more than kitsch. I think about the preparation that went into taking them, the anticipation of waiting for them to be developed, the pride of seeing them displayed. Somehow, somewhere, something went terribly wrong and they just disappeared. When I bring them home it’s my way of saying, now you’re with me. You’re far from your home but you’re not lost anymore. 

I don’t want to be forgotten either. 

That’s it. That’s the why.

*******************************************************************************************

Photo 1: my maternal grandmother, Jeanne Boxerbaum, 1982ish Photo 2: my paternal grandmother, Joan Synenberg, Christmas 2019

[bowandcurtsey]

Can I request Yuno x reader high school modern au and Yuno wanting his ex back because she broke up with him a few months ago and he can’t get over her but she has another boyfriend now.

soooo here I am, remember I said the Yuno Modern high school AU could have a part 2?

hehehe, evil Aine ready to break hearts.

also, lotsa Yuno request in the ask box, hehe, my little prince has finally gained the recognition he deserves!

Yuno Grinberryall x F! reader tw: angst

Yuno looked at you through the tall glass windows of the music room from the 5th floor. You were smiling so happily with Chester as you both sat on the benches at the first floor, talking about something unbeknownst to him.

The annual School Anniversary Party was just a month away and you both had plans to attend it together, but that was the plans you made during the start of year, while you were still together.

You both broke up before the summer break, because you could no longer take it. The hatred from all his fangirls after you both became public about your relationship was too much to bear. Yuno had promised to protect you, but he had such a busy schedule that a lot of the times, you were just alone to face them and their wicked doings.

They threw your bags and its contents, stole your uniform while you changed, hid one side of your shoe during gym class, stole your phone and disabled it, so you couldn't use it for hours.

Yuno would warn them not to do anything to you, nothing more. He mostly ignored them and continued with his hockey trainings, his recitals or his studies.

Some of them acted like they wanted to be friends with you, only to ask you of something from Yuno. They ditched you or dissed you when you couldn't give them what they wanted, like a photograph of him sleeping.

The last straw came when they poured ice water all of you as you stepped into the classroom one day. You cried and ran out, missing the entire class.

It wasn't Yuno that came to look for you, but Chester.

"Hey, you alright? I looked everywhere for you." he wrapped his jacket around you when he found you at the deserted fitness corner where you and Yuno frequented.

"Why are you here?" you said softly, disappointed that it wasn't Yuno.

"Cause I saw what happened, do you want me to call Yuno here?"

"It's fine. He's busy."

"Too busy to console his girlfriend that just got bullied by his fangirls?" Chester replied sarcastically, "look, I'm not tryin' to diss him or whatever, but maybe he needs to get his priorities in check."

"He does have his priorities in check," you defended your boyfriend, "he has a bright future ahead of him. Colleges and even companies are scouting him even before he's graduated."

"Well, is that an excuse not to care for his girlfriend? I mean if that's the case, why be in a relationship?" Chester questioned, "I'm just saying it's not your fault all this is happening to you and you most certainly don't deserve it either."

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

You left school, calling in sick for the day. Throughout the day, you thought about what Chester said. You cared for Yuno, but did he care for you. You took care of him, but did he protect you? Negative thought plagued your mind as you lay in bed, scrolling through the little amount of photos that you and Yuno took together.

Why? Because you seldom spent time together. You scrolled through your messages with him, most of them were "brb, I have to go-" to whatever practice he had.

You thought about Ari and her boyfriend. She was a cheerleader and her boyfriend was a football player, yet they had time for one another? They took the effort to be with one another...

Buzzzz. Your phone notified you of a text message.

Are you feeling better?

It was from Chester. You threw your phone into your pillows with a groan, deciding to take a nap.

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

You were woken up from your nap with a knock on your bedroom door.

"y/n?" it was your mom, "Yuno's here."

Your eyes blinked opened at the sound of his name. You sat up in bed and a few moments later, Yuno walked in.

Handsome as ever, his hair a little more messier today, like he rushed over to your place.

"I heard you called in sick.." Yuno came over to sit on your bed, "where are you feeling unwell?"

"I was just tired from school.. Needed a break." you sighed contemplating about whether to tell him what happened.

"Anything you want to tell me?" It was as though he read your mind.

"..." you stared into his shiny golden orbs, "no.."

"Then how long will you hide it from me till?" There was a change in Yuno's voice, slightly lower, slightly colder.

"huh?" you looked up at him.

"I heard about what happened, from Chester." Honeyed orbs glared at you, disappointed that you lied.

You pursed your lips.

"y/n. why do I have to know about your happenings from another guy? Why didn't you text me when you were crying at our usual fitness corner?"

"I didn't want to disturb you. The girls would probably follow you secretly and I can't hide there anymore when things get suffocating." you said quietly.

It was Yuno's turn to clam up now.

"Yuno. I don't think I can do this anymore," you pressed your lips into a thin line, trying not to cry, "I think we should go our separate ways. You are too busy for a relationship, I don't want to hold you back on your bright career."

Yuno looked at you, tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes, his fingers reached up in attempted to wipe them away, only for you to dart away. You knew that you would crumble and regret if he touched you now.

"Is this what you really want?" Yuno asked softly.

"I just want someone that would make the effort to spend time with me and be there for me." you no longer looked at him, but you stared at the white ceiling above you.

"I do try to make the effort..." his voice trailed away, understanding that you were pushed past your limits. You didn't need a man that would find excuses.

"I'm sorry, y/n." Yuno picked up his bag and left.

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

It has been a good 3 months. Yuno and you never texted each other or contacted each other. Today was the first day of school from the summer holidays.

Yuno looked down from the tall window glass. He felt like the king of the school; he had everything set in life. But he saw you and his world seemed to come crashing down.

They said out of sight, out of mind, but Yuno never spent a day without thinking about you. His fingers always lingered at the call button to your contact, which he still saved as "Mine ❤️". He typed million of sorry texts, but he never sent any of them.

The number of times he stood in your neighbourhood to catch a glimpse of you was too embarrassing to tell. But when he could finally catch a glimpse of you, he was contented. He wanted to run up and wrap you in his arms, to ask for forgiveness, to ask you to come back to him but his feet were always rooted to the ground like he had stepped on glue.

His heart clenched at the sight of you and Chester, and he thought about how you told him that you didn't care about other guys.

Flash backs of the day where he held your hand in front of everyone and said that you're his girlfriend came to his mind. How he blatantly told everyone that you both were in a relationship.

He never that was the start of the end. He never knew how bad the bullying would become and he never knew the extent of it until he met Lexy and Ari by accident during the summer break and forced them to tell him. He couldn't imagine what you went through and more. The times you suffered alone, those times where you cried alone.

Yuno felt he never really deserved an angel like you from the start, but at the moment when his eyes saw you again laughing with another man, he felt like he was being burnt alive.

"y/n," Yuno spoke to himself, "what is a king without his queen?"

*Aine evil laughs*

[viv-is-dumb]

Hi! So i know that only a few people will read this because it’s another vent but this bugged me a lot.

Last night I came home from work and kinda just did my thing. For context: I live with my girlfriend and her parents. I have for months now and we’re trying to save up to move out. My gf got a call from her cousin (also one of her closest friends) and he was like “are you okay?” and of course my girlfriend told him she was fine but asked why he was asking. He said that T (gfs dad) had been saying things and he was checking on us. Well this piqued our interest, ofc, so we were like, “What things?”

It had occurred to the cousin that we did NOT know about this thing. So he calls us. Apparently T doesn’t like me very much. Whatever. I do not care. Neither of her parents like me and frankly I don’t like them because they’re awful and T reminds me of my moms ex bf who abused me as a kid. T told his sister (gfs aunt) that i’m a master manipulator and that i’m manipulating my gf into distancing herself from them and that her friends need to get involved as well as everyone else because I need to be stopped. This to me is hilarious because Gfs aunt likes me. Gfs friends like me too and know i wouldn’t do that. T thinks i’m doing this but my gf has been trying to do this since freshman year of high school (or even earlier. That was 5 years ago) All of this isn’t the issue. The issue is that he said that he might KILL ME? and there’s no way for me to do anything about it because i’m getting this info through 2 other people (aunt and then cousin). I have no evidence that he even said this, but i don’t put it past him. Cousin also said T said that i’ve gotta go and that he’s gonna talk to his wife about it and all this shit.

So either i’m gonna be kicked or killed 👍

I’m not sure what I did to deserve to live in abusive toxic environments my whole life but i’m sick of it happening.

My plan for the next 4 weeks is to save both paychecks and only buy lunch at work so I can afford to get us out (assuming my gf doesn’t get hired by then) We’re gonna move into an apartment nearby. We’re still gonna be connected to them but going home won’t be a risk once we move, I hope

Thank you for your time. Sorry if this wasn’t well written, Im omw to work.

[aleksa-sims]

My RL Sims-Story (18+)

CW: drugs & addiction

Two weeks later, after I was back home, I met Sofia. Sof was in rehab for 2 months but unfortunately she relapsed a few weeks ago. As for me? I gave in to my addiction and lost myself more and more in it. I even stopped my therapy in the addiction clink and switched to Daniel’s doctor. There I get my pills prescribed for a whole month.

This doc didn’t change my pills, he just increased my dose by 2mg! He was exactly the same opinion as my doctor in the addiction clinic. That the drug I got, was just right for me! This doctor only took me into his drug replacement therapy, because of Daniel! He has known him for 3 years. He knew, D. was stable and lived a regular life, so he wanted to help us both! And so that I get my pills on prescription for a whole month, there was a requirement from the doctor for us.

He wanted us to get psychological help together!! Actually, this is a common procedure when you’re doing a drug replacement therapy, that you also get psychological help. I also had this in the addiction clink. (Of course my health insurance paid for it, otherwise I would never have done this.) But WHY his doc asked us to do it together, I explain another time. ...And just few hours ago D. & I had a big fight! And somehow Sofia was responsible for all this! She told me, Daniel stole from me and hid my drugs to have more for himself.

At that moment I wasn’t well! This damn drug procurement was an isusse for us, because Daniel hid drugs for those people 7 months ago, just like David did, Ana’s ex-bf, that vampire guy. Well and now of course he had to avoid those people! That’s why Sofia introduced me to her dealer, “Mike”! This guy, Mike, met Sofia and me that night. Daniel didn’t know about it! I just took off with Sof when he took a shower at home. 🤦‍♀️.... That guy Mike, ugh! I was a bit annoyed by his secret attitude! But very soon I will find out for myself, how important it is to be careful!!!!

Me (to Sof): Huh??? 😦 What does this guy want from me? 🤷‍♀️ I don’t understand his fucking hand signals! 😩 😠

Sofia (to me): He wants you to follow him!....Go on, A.! Just follow him! He wants you to go over to him, alone!

Me: I swear Sofia, slowly my patience ends! I'm hurting here, my body is going crazy! ... I mean, this can't be too hard to do,  to sell me some fucking smack! 😠....Fuck it! I’m going over to him!

Me ( to that guy): Hey! I’m A.! But Sofia told you everything on the phone, so?..  Here, as agreed! 30 €

Mike: Slow, slow! First of all, when you call me in the future, never mention your real name! For you, I am Mike! And you are....hm? 🤔 Let’s say....Jenny! Ok? So if you call me and say you’re Jenn, I know! I know what you want from me and how much you want, because I don’t run around with this shit in large quantities, you know? You just ask me on the phone where & when we can see each othert! That’s it! No more! And I don’t want to have long discussions with you! I mean about the payment! 30 € for one ball! I only accept cash! So don’t try to get close to me or hit on me like your....great friend Sofia has tried. You clear on everything I told you?

Me: Yea! I’ ain’t stupid, man! 😒

Mike: I didn’t claim that either! I’m just being careful!

Me: It’s okay! Here your money!

Mike: Thanks! And now we’re gonna hug each other, and I’m gonna give it to you discreetly in your right hand, like we’re gonna say goodbye.

Me: Okay? 🤨  Sooo, hug me!

Mike: I do it fast and keep it short, so no need to be nervous. Come here!.....That’s it! 🤷‍♂️

Sofia: Well guys! You done? Just wanted to check if everything is ok.

Mike: You got a lot of nerve coming here! But since you’re already there....When will I get my money from you? 🤨

Sofia: He-he! 😬 ...Next month you’ll get your money! I mean, you know me! I always pay my outstanding debts, just....  the last few months, I have not been here as you have probably noticed. 

Mike: Yea, I noticed you were gone and that I came today is just because I thought, I was getting my money back from you! 😒

Sofia: I brought you a new, reliable customer! And as I said, you’ll get your fucking cash!

Me: So.... yeah! Was nice with you! I fuck off!

Sofia: A.! Wait!

I just wanted to go home and call Daniel. I wanted to apologize for my cowardly escape and of course, because I accused him of stealing from me. 😟 I called him! He was pissed and disappointed. He said that we have to clarify this matter! And if we can’t..... that’s it for us. 😢 🤦‍♀️ 

Sofia ran after me! She was totally surprised why I was so pissed, after all I got what I wanted.

Me: It was YOU! 😧 Right?....It wasn’t Daniel, you took my drugs!

Sofia: What? I didn’t steal your damn drugs! And since you weren’t either, it can only be HIM! 😠 But why am I surprised? You’ve always trusted men more than me!

Me: Don't you dare tell me about Nico now!!! 😒 He was right about you!..... And why should I trust you more than Daniel? I don’t really know you, but Daniel, I know everything about him! I shouldn’t have listened to you! 😞

Sofia: Oh, come on! You know me, Aleksandra! But ok, we didn’t see each other often! I agree ! But one thing I wanna make clear! I’m not a fucking thief! 😩 🤷‍♀️

Me: Fuck it! I don’t want to settle this now! I just want to go home and take a shower ....Ugh, my parents will kill me! 😩 🤦‍♀️

Sofia: I’m sorry! You’re going through a lot right now, huh? 😕 I hope we will see each other again soon and that we can clarify this shit!

Me: Sure! We’ll sort this out! But first, I have to fix it with Daniel! 😞

Sofia: Be careful who you trust! He’s also druggie and remember, he fucked up and messed up with those people! 😬 ....You know?👉👈  ...Agh, Idk A.? That's your business!.... Bye! 😔

Me: Yeah, bye!

From now on I will see Sofia more often. Oh, and Sofia didn’t steal from me! But neither was Daniel! Tomorrow I’ll find out. Also, my dad will kick me out of home.  

Previous / Next

Start

[dredshirtroberts]

as tends to be the Pattern, i'm Frustrated and Angry with my family a little extra so of course this is when they've decided to try and attempt contact.

against possibly better judgement i did respond to mom after her second text (she's bored or she probably wouldn't have bothered) because i did kind of feel like it was worth attempting to reward her actually asking about what adventures i've been on/wanted to go on and whether or not its happened yet.

I kept it fairly neutral - after all the weather's yo-yo'ed like hell up here, and that makes casual walks a little difficult for me to go on. Plus 2/3s the house was sick last week - two weeks ago? what is time anyway - so no Recent Adventures were had outside of commutes and grocery runs on my part.

i just...i don't care what they're doing or why or what's going on in their lives - i know it's probably got a lot of excitement due to my sister's wedding coming up, plus their return from their recent vacation a couple weeks ago, and their lives tend to be pretty routine and they don't exactly get up to a whole lot that i get told about.

(there were multiple instances of them coming to the city i lived in when i lived close by and them just not saying anything or even like mentioning it to me in passing and i would find out via their facebook check-ins to various locations. And I rarely knew when they were out of town until after they'd already come back into the area. There was a real concern when I was leaving my ex that they just wouldn't be there in order for me to ask for help and i wouldn't have known until i tried to reach out. Thankfully they managed to be in town that weekend but like. i just wouldn't have known)

but like...they didn't feel it relevant to tell me when i was 20 miles away, why would i care now when i live 700 miles away? after years and years of them just not talking to me ever except when they needed me to attend a family event so their own egos could be stroked (either by affirming that they still had the love and loyalty of their child on their own, or to show me off to others - this last part tapered down significantly when i stopped being exceptional). They did not care what I got up to when I lived down there. Why would they care now that I live so far away? It's not like they can join me, or that they would have any interest in doing so.

i just like. i don't care. i don't want to know because they had YEARS to connect with me and create a pattern of communication but they didn't want that when i was accessible. do you know how many months i went where the most intimate contact i had with anyone was knocking shoulders with my coworkers on accident? or worse, nothing? because my parents decided they didn't care to actually like...come see me?

a lot of my inability to keep in contact with people does stem from my parents not teaching me how to do that, and from no one trying to contact me because well they could always go through my mom and learn everything they needed. I could in fact tell when people had asked about me and my parents didn't know what to say because that's when they'd text and ask how i was doing. So they could have updated information the next time.

that said if you've ever attempted to keep in contact with me and i just didn't do the work i'm very sorry. I'm trying my best in these warmer months to do the work i need to in order to keep up with friends and such and it's going to get easier with practice but i'm 31 years old and just now trying to figure out how to do this. I apologize for further slips while i work on this area of lacking.

but like. they had zero interest in me or anything i did that didn't elevate their status in the eyes of their peers and superiors. I was exceptional because i could hide myself away in my room and get all my school work and learning done all by myself - until it turned out i wasn't actually doing the school work and i'd get in trouble for slacking. But nothing was done to teach me how to do it better. I was moving up in the world, my parents were proud of me because i worked for my dad! except i only got berated about the work i was doing because i wasn't doing enough of it all of the time and was only appreciated for the work i did when i was like "alright fine, i'm leaving the company" and they realized they'd have to bring someone in to do all of the jobs i'd been doing for $10 an hour/20k a year.

and that was a desk job.

i made more at fucking Chipotle than i did working for my dad.

for seven years.

i'm so mad. i'm mad for Different reasons than i was when i started this but i'm anticipating my mother's surprised pikachu reaction to finding out every joint i have dislocates semi-frequently and that likely what most of my injuries were from in sports were dislocations i was pushing through. and she just responded so i'm going to deal with that and just...i'm angry. i'm angry.