#love sweet boy who is your younger sister's best friend and whom you fuck every sunday and every other sleepover

[darlingpwease]

I know that you know that I know, but my real problem with dark content for yuuta is not incest and noncon, but the fact that it's all sub!reader. maybe I want to read about a reader who is a pervert, and not about yuuta.

he's just too full of love and innocent, okay? the material to be corrupted, but not the other way </3

[hes-writer]

Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

——

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting  her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now,  suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____

[dont-cry2020]

“Too Early for Another One?”

Harry Styles x Reader

//Dad! Harry realizes that his baby girl isn’t his baby girl anymore, and you reminisce on your past together//

//LOTS of fluff, a tiny bit of angst, and mentions of smut but no actual smut//

//This ones really long oops hehe 2,725 words//

It seems like just yesterday when Harry’s oldest daughter was born. He remembers how brave you were, painfully giving birth to a beautiful baby girl. He remembers how overwhelmed he felt as she let her first tiny cry. He couldn’t help but choke back a sob at the sight of her. She was wholly you and Harry together, and he couldn’t wait to have more kids with you. 

The name Margot was your idea; you had always loved the name, and the French influence reminded you of Harry. Not to mention she had her father’s green eyes and, you would come to learn, his unruly hair. Harry had loved the idea of Margot. He thought it was beautiful, just like you, he told you, his baby girl gripping his finger as his other arm was thrown across your shoulders, holding the most beautiful baby you had ever laid eyes on.

Anne, Margot’s middle name, was Harry’s doing. He liked having his mother present in his daughter’s name, especially seeing as she taught him everything he needed to know about babies when she learned about y/n’s pregnancy. Even the more ~gruesome~ details. Harry was thankful nonetheless; fatherhood terrified him. Although, you never hesitated to tell him how amazing of a father he was to your children.

Especially after you had three more... 

Harry really couldn’t help himself back then. He’d go on tour for two weeks at a time, flying back to spend time with his family. He’d always say, “Too early for another one?” after he put the kids to bed, and you would just slap his arm and roll your eyes. 

It was a Friday night at the Styles’ residence, and you were busy in the kitchen cooking dinner and entertaining your two-year-old, Fletcher, as your ten-year-old, Matt, chased your six-year-old, Piper, around the house.

Harry puts his keys in the front door, ruffling his hair as he walks into the large foyer and kicks his shoes off.

“Matt! Put that down and stop chasing your sister!” Harry chuckles under his breath as he hears your frustration.

“I’m home!” he shouts, just loud enough for the kids in the kitchen to come running towards him. A string of “Daddy!”s are heard as they run into his arms.

“Hey guys,” Harry says enthusiastically, kissing his two kids on the head. “How was school?” 

Harry smiles as Piper babbles on about the art project she did in Kindergarten today and Matt goes on about how his friend drank hot sauce in the school cafeteria. He ruffles his son’s hair, his smirk prominent from his kids’ amusing anecdotes.

You pad out of the kitchen, Fletcher on your hip, and smile at the gorgeous man laughing and talking with your kids. It was these moments that made you fall in love with Harry all over again. He was the best father any kid could ask for, and he always made time for your children, even if it meant gunning it from the airport to make it to dance recitals and plays and award ceremonies. His job didn’t make it easy on him, but he always managed to spend as much time as possible with his family. 

Harry finally looked up from his chattering kids, a tired smile meeting yours. His heart swells as he takes in your messy hair and flustered appearance, no doubt from trying to keep your three youngest from killing each other. 

“Hi, beautiful,” Harry says, sauntering towards you with Piper and Matt at his side. 

“Hi, Harry,” You say softly, pressing your lips to his. 

“Ew!” Matt screams, running upstairs, Piper at his heels. 

“No running in the house!” Harry shouts up the stairs, his lips still twisted in a wide grin, before pressing his lips to your forehead and taking Flecther from you. Harry follows you into the kitchen, sighing at the smell of dinner cooking on the stove.

“It smells delicious in here, y/n,” he says, bouncing your youngest on his hip and making funny faces at him. “Doesn’t it, Fletch?” Harry uses his ‘baby voice’, and it makes you melt.

You lean against the counter, pouring yourself a glass of wine and offering one to Harry, with which he happily obliges.

“Thank you, Har,” you say, pouring him a glass of Rose and kissing him on the cheek. “and thank you, Fletch.” You kiss your baby boy on the cheek too, and he laughs at you, making you and Harry smile. 

“How was your day?” you ask your husband, tending to the food on the stove. Harry thinks for a moment, opening his mouth and closing it, furrowing his brow. 

“Where’s Margot?” He asks, a frown drawn up on his tanned face. You purse your lips at his comment. 

“She’s probably just in her room, face-timing that boy she likes.”

Harry’s eyes widen. He was not aware that his baby girl liked a boy. “She what? She’s 16!”

You roll your eyes, chuckling at his father-like instincts. 

“Harry,” you scold, pulling what smelled so good out of the oven. “We met when I was 16, remember? And you were 17.”

Harry chokes on his wine, having to take a moment to compose himself. Memories of you and him as teenagers flood through his head. “Shit,” he curses under his breath. You give him a scolding look and he mutters a ‘sorry’, after glancing at the toddler still bouncing on his hip.

“Can you go get the kids for dinner, please?” you ask him, taking Fletcher from him.

“ ‘Course, baby,” he says, sauntering out of the kitchen. You hum softly to yourself as you set the table for five people, placing Flecther on his high chair next to you.

Harry goes up the stairs, first stopping in Piper’s room and then going to Matt’s, telling them that it’s time for dinner. He chuckles at how Matt consistently chases Piper everywhere they go. 

Harry stops in front of Margot’s door, going to knock, but stopping his fist from hitting the wood when he hears strange noises coming from inside her room. Harry presses his ear to the door and listens. It wasn’t abnormal to hear talking or loud music coming from his daughter’s room, and she liked to keep her door closed so her younger brother wouldn’t go through her things. These sounds, though, were certainly not talking or music. 

Harry felt his face pale at the moans coming from the other side of the door. Not his daughter. His sweet baby girl. He felt like he was going to be sick.

 And then the rage set in.

 He lets his fist rap against the door, before barging into the room. 

A boy whom Harry had never seen before was on top of his daughter. Margot shrieked, grabbing the sheet and covering herself. The boy’s eyes were wide with horror as he stumbled around the room, looking for his pants.

“Get your clothes on and come downstairs. You have five minutes,” Harry says through gritted teeth, slamming the bedroom door behind him. 

Harry felt like he had failed as a father.

The worst feeling is when you don’t have control over a situation, and Harry knew that feeling all too well. 

 His baby girl, his first child, the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on (besides you, of course) was losing her virginity at 16. What if that wasn’t her first time? What if? 

Harry slid down the wall, his head buried in his hands. 

“Fuck,” he swore. What if I was too hard on them? Should I have just let them finish? Thoughts run through his head and he tugs at his hair. 

“Harry?” you call from the bottom of the stairs. You amble up the tall staircase when you don’t receive an answer. His large body is propped up against the wall, crumpled in a ball with his hands covering his face. You fall to his side, wrapping your arms around his torso. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you comfort your husband, kissing the top of his head and squeezing him lightly. He removed his hands from his face, meeting your y/e/c eyes with his glassy green ones. You cup his jaw in your hands. “Hmm?”

“Do you remember when we first had sex?”

You let out a short laugh, puffing air out of your nose. “Yeah, I do,” you can’t help the smile that takes over your face as you recall the moment.

You were 16 and you had met Harry at a Starbucks in New York, of all places. He had ordered before you, and you couldn’t help but check out his broad back and the disheveled hair that topped his head. You ordered your coffee and stood by the counter next to the boy who ordered before you.

You recall how you would glance at him, and then he would glance at you when you turned away, and then you both did it at the same time, laughing and blushing at your silly antics. 

“I’m Harry,” he had said, his British accent taking you by surprise. 

“y/n,” you said, taking his large hand and shaking it. “What’s a Brit like you doing in New York City?” you ask him, smirking. You remember scanning his face and taking in his green eyes and pink lips. 

You remember how your thoughts were interrupted as your name was called for your coffee. You hadn’t realized that Harry had already received his drink, and he was just waiting for you.

“I’m actually in a band,” he said, scratching the back of his neck and turning a little pink.

 After that, he had asked what you were doing today because he had the day off. You said that you weren’t doing anything, just planning on going back to your apartment. He then asked you to give him a tour of the city, and you happily obliged. 

The two of you exchanged numbers, and he promised to take you out on a proper date the next time he was in the city. 

It was May when he met you, and by July, you were sure he had forgotten about you. But when he called, telling you that he was back and he wanted to see you, you were ecstatic. 

He took you to dinner and then back to his hotel room where you spent the night, losing your virginity to him. He asked you to be his girlfriend and promised to call you every day. 

Your daughter’s bedroom door bursts open, pulling you out of your thoughts. Harry bolts up from the floor and you do the same when you see the boy that follows her. Your eyes widen, finally realizing why Harry was upset.

“What’s going on here?” you say, fully aware of what’s going on from the bruise on Margot’s neck. 

She clears her throat. “Mom, Dad,” she hesitates “this is Chris.” Chris nods, not meeting either of your eyes. 

“Chris,” Harry says, anger flooding back into him. You look up at him, interlocking your fingers as a way to say ‘calm down’. He sighs. 

“I suggest you go home.”

“Margot, why don’t you let Chris out, okay hun?” you say as softly as you can. She nods, silently leading the boy down the stairs. 

Harry collapses in your arms, burying his nose in your neck and inhaling your sent. You laugh softly at him, wrapping your arms around his large body bent over into yours. 

“Okay, ya big baby,” you joke, rubbing your hand up and down his back comfortingly. He mumbles something along the lines of ‘ ‘m not a baby’ into your neck before standing and straightening himself up.

You sigh and rub your hands over his shoulders, smoothing the fabric of the button up he wore to the studio today. 

“How are we going to deal with this?” Harry looks tired. The bags under his eyes are heavy, his pink lips pressed into a pout. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers, running ringed fingers through his hair. “ ‘M not mad about the whole ‘havin’ sex’ thing,” he says “ ‘m jus’... mad tha’ she didn’t talk to us first. ‘M baby girl,” he mumbles. 

“I know,” you say, resting your head on his chest. “Your baby girl is grown up now, though. And, yeah, she should have talked to us first... But- we did stupid things back then too. Remember when I had to call my mom and tell her that I was staying with a friend when you were literally on top of me?” 

Harry smiles at the memory. “Ye-yeah,” he chuckles “i do remember tha’”

Margot saunters up the stairs, looking around nervously. Harry releases you from his arms and looks at his daughter. He wraps his arms around her, taking her by surprise before she melts into her father’s embrace. 

“I love you, Dad,” she says, making your heart melt at your husband and your daughter. 

“I love you, too,” he says, pulling away and resting his hands on her shoulders. 

Harry sighs, turning to look at you for help. 

“Why don’t we go eat dinner and we talk about this later?” you say, grabbing your daughter's hand and giving it a squeeze. They nod and follow you down the stairs in silence. 

Harry laughed as Fletcher babbled with food in his mouth, refusing to eat it. 

“C’mon Fletch,” you say, pushing the spoon to his mouth. “Open up.”

Everyone at the table laughs as Fletcher refuses the spoon, making a mess on the high chair and his face. 

“Guys, please put your plates in the dishwasher,” Harry says after everyone finishes eating. Harry gives you a nervous look and you kiss his cheek softly, muttering an ‘it’s going to be okay’ into his ear. He squeezes your hip lightly in acknowledgment. 

You and Harry walk up the staircase and you peek into Margot’s room, lightly knocking on the wood of the door. She looks up and smiles, letting you come in. 

You sit down on the bed next to her, Harry following suit and sitting next to you, patting your thigh. 

“Margot,” you say, “I-,” you stumble for your word and look at Harry for help.

“I’m sorry,” Margot says, looking like she’s going to cry. 

“No baby,” you say, wrapping her into a hug. 

“Margot,” Harry says, kneeling in front of his daughter. “we’re not mad at you for...that,” he chuckles to himself. “Your mom and I have had our fair share of that.”

“Harry!” you blurt, smacking his arm. Margot groans.

“Dad, please don’t.”

“Sorry, sorry. ‘M jus’ sayin’. It’s natural. We jus’ wish you would’ve talked to us first.” Harry brushes her hair behind her ears. “Jus’ wan’ you to be safe.”

Margot nods, hugging her dad. “I know.”

It was getting late at this point, so you dismissed yourself from the room to put your other kids to bed. 

You poured yourself another glass of wine (it was Friday, why not?) and changed into one of Harry’s shirts, snuggling into your king-sized bed and turning on the tv.

Harry carefully opens the door as to not wake you in case you were sleeping. He’s pleasantly surprised to find you snuggled up in one of his shirts, a glass of wine in your hand and another waiting for him. 

He would never tell you this, but he loved it when you wore his clothes. Especially the silk button-ups that hung off your frame. It drove him crazy.

He unbuttons his shirt and strips down to his boxers, your eyes shamelessly checking him out. He dives into bed, making you shriek as he laughs at you, planting a kiss on your cheek. You hand him his glass and he takes his position next to you, wrapping a muscular tattooed arm around your shoulders. 

“How’d it go?” you whisper, ghosting your fingers over his chest. His hand rests on your bare thigh, his shirt riding up a little bit, exposing the fabric of your panties. 

“Good,” he says quietly. “Really good.”

He turns to face you, a sly grin on his face. You roll your eyes and place your glass of wine on the nightstand next to you. 

“Too early for another one?” 

You punch him on the shoulder as he climbs on top of you, trapping you in a sloppy kiss.

[jcshuaromano]

— && guests may mistake me as ( noah centineo ), but really i am ( joshua romano + male + he/him ) and my DOB is ( 11/7/1995 ). i am applying for the ( security guard ) position as part of the EHP and would like to live in suite ( 216 ). i should be hired because i am ( + hard working & trustworthy ), but i can also be ( - stubborn & indecisive ) at times. personally, i like to ( work out, play football, walk mochi at the park ) when off the clock, but that won’t interfere with work. thank you for your consideration! 

hi there, i’m mel i’m very pleased and scared to be here. 

this is my precious button of a boy noah aka joshua romano, josh for short of course the obvious. 

let’s see what i can come up with for this precious child. 

joshua bradley romano is the oldest out of five kids, yes he has four younger siblings, two younger brothers and two younger sisters whom he loves dearly. 

growing up joshua was very active in high school, meaning he signed up for everything sports related aka football, basketball and baseball, okay maybe not everything, but some. along with being apart of sports teams, he excelled in school and brought home straight a’s each year. you’d think he was one of those guys who slacked off, but he was one of those who actually cared about grades and graduating. 

he participated in being teachers assistants during his sophomore through senior year of high schcool. running errands for teachers, hanging out with his favorite teachers when they didn’t have anything for him to do.

very popular in high school, he was just very friendly and sweet to all those he had befriended and just those he’d greet in the hallways of school. he is a flirt, but not in ways you’d think, it’s more so flirtatious in the sweet way than a ‘i’m trying to get in your pants’ kind of way. 

 josh was raised to respect his elders and to love and care for his siblings. of course they’d have a few sibling banters as siblings do but still find a way to maintain their close bond with one another. 

you can see him being really sweet to the elderly, he’ll jokingly flirt in a sweet way of course with the old ladies that need help with something or if he knows them well enough. basically something along the lines of, “hey doris did you do something different to your hair, looks beautiful.” or he’ll joke around with them if he sees an old lady wearing some fur coat and be like, “wow bertha what is this sheep? very soft.” he likes to joke around and have fun and they end up jokingly flirting back with him in a cute way. you can say he’s very soft for the elderly. 

graduated with high gpas in high school and in college and made his move to chicago with his best friend mochi whom he loves dearly and has had by his side since he was fifteen years old. 

he works as a security guard at the hotel and greets those whom he knows is staying at the hotel and treats others with respect. he will however pop off when he needs to, you don’t want to fuck with him or he will show a side no one really sees. he takes his security job very seriously and shows it by working hard every night. 

as you can see joshua is very sweet kind and friendly and a very soft boy, but he has his side where he won’t be afraid to pop off if and when he needs to. 

[tartutation]

Venus de Milo (TMNT AU Profile)

A/N: English is not my native language. Therefore, any advice on any grammatical errors is very welcome! Thank you and enjoy your reading <3

Warnings: None

The TMNT AU summary: This is an alternate universe of teenage mutant ninja turtles (mostly inspired by the 2003 series and Bayverse movies) that was inspired by the structure of a "coming-of-age" novel. After losing their beloved father and incomparable master and defeating Shreder, the enemy they have been chasing since the age of 15, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo must learn to accept the grief and move on with their lives. None of it will be easy, now that the transition from adolescence to adulthood will be strongly impacted by an unexpected reunion with two women from their past and the new friends who have joined them.

Introducing Venus de Milo

You can see Venus aparence HERE

In this universe the boys met Venus because she spent 9 months being trained by Mestre Splinter when they were only 10 years old. It is a consensus among them that they share the same mutation, but all the genetic tests that Donatello made were inconclusive (yes, that does strasses him out).

During this period when Venus spent 9 months in New York studying the old history and secrets of the biggest and most famous ninja clans with Mestre Splinter (Hamato Yoshi's only living heir) her relationship with the turtle brothers was somewhat troubled. At the time, they were all children and the tension of having a girl in the group made it very difficult for them to interact normally. Raphael and Michelangelo used to exclude her from the games and playdates with the excuse that it was "for boys only!" and Leonardo felt very jealous of his master (and father), who seemed to pay special attention to this lost konuichi. Of all of them, however, the one who made the most hell of Venus's life was (who knew!) Donatello. Even with his gentle and pacifist spirit, Donnie did not like this new guest who claimed to be (ABSURD!) high priestest of a lost lineage of magical Konuichi. They were doomed to disagreement: after all, a little prodigy of science and a child with magical powers are two existences that contradict each other. But as soon as she came, Venus left, after finishing her intensive course with "Master Hamato" (which is how she referred to Splinter) she returned to Japan and spent the next 11 years training extensively every day to be able to become the best guardian of the Secret of Kunoichi Magic that had ever existed. Without the distraction of other brothers or  any friends close by, Venus became the most dangerous and disciplined warrior who had ever set foot on this Earth.

Now a young woman, Venus reencounters her former hashi colleagues. What does the future await?

Name: Venus de Milo

Age: 21

Species: Mutant Tortoise

Favorite color: Blue

Moral alingment: Lawfull Good

Sign: Libra

Sexual orientation: Demisexual

Characteristics:

Because of her disciplined and restricted upbringing, Venus has a very difficult time socializing with other people (or mutants!) her age. She doesn't know what a "meme" is, how twitter works, what's the fun of a 6-second video with a cat sppining to the sound of "sweet dreams are made of this". Having grown up in a temple and spent her entire life studying, she has a different concept of what "fun" is.

Her favorite hobbies include reading, meditating, studying ancient history documents, doing push-ups, kneading healing herbs, studying new types of incense and their calming propreities, etc ... All things that she also does as part of her daily work as the Keeper of the Kunochi Secret, so... The boundaries between fun and work are very thin.

She is an excellent reader and can read fluently in three languages: English, Japanese and Cantonese. She loves to read, it's her favorite activity, especially out loud, as she considers herself an excellent announcer.

She can defeat any of the Hamato brothers in combat (including Leonardo). Although neither bigger nor stronger, Venus uses the weight of the enemy's and their strength against them. In addition, her physical speed and strategic ability together makes her literally unbeatable.

Despite her advanced combat skills, Venus is extremely shy and anything makes her blush. Especially conversations that involve sexual pleasure and explicit language. Unfortunately for her, Michelangelo will discover this very quickly and will be able to defeat her in a fight whispering "What's up, hot stuff?" during combat. None of the other brothers will understand how he did it and he will never tell.

Despite being aware that her appearance isn't considered neither normal nor attractive to humans, Venus has no problems with self-esteem. She is very proud of her origins and to be the heir to a lineage of magical warriors is enough to make her one of the most beautiful people in the world in her mind.

Despite having a limited social skill, she is a very valuable friend and after she becomes attached to you, she will do everything to guarantee your safety and comfort.

She is very elegant and graceful. She was taught during her upbringing that each movement must be calculated and rehearsed strictly, what makes some of her very commom and daily actions, such as putting on a shoe or pouring tea look like choreography of a soft dance.

Venus believes deeply in soul mates. So she never worried much about learning the art of seduction or how to flirt with other people, since she always knew that one day the right person would cross her path and she wouldn't have to change who she is to win their heart (spoiler: she was right!)

It might not look like it, but she is very easily irritated. The fact is that she can disguise her stress and impatience just as easily. Never loses her temper.

Even with all these characteristics, she is not the leader of the group. This role was given to Mona Lisa (you will be able to read about Mona Lisa from this alternative universe very soon) through an election between the four friends (description of the twins May and June coming soon!). Venus has no grudge against her friend, as she knows that despite her physical abilities, herself lacks the charisma that a leader needs.

She is not very good at comforting others, nor is she a big fan of physical contact.

She was educated to never feel hatred towards anything but despite this she cannot control her contempt for lies. Trust is the most important thing in the world.

Summary of relationship with each of the turtles:

Leonardo: Venus and Leo are kindred spirits. They have, all jokes aside, everything in common. Therefore, when they met each other for the second time, they developed a friendship that made them absolutely inseparable. She likes how he doesn't underestimate her and how he respects her discipline and life doctrine and he likes having a partner to meditate and train. Their union allowed Leonardo to finally have someone with the same dedication (and obsession, honestly) as he, someone with whom he could complain about the neglect of his brothers and someone to train his japanese with, which also guaranteed them a certain privacy and intimacy that Leonardo had not yet experienced with anyone.

Raphael: If asked, Raph will say that he thinks Venus "is ok". Deep down, meeting her for a second time left a bitter taste in his mouth. He is very jealous of his brother and wonders if Venus would not be the true sister that Leo always wanted - besides (of course) the fact that her discipline and posture are literally the combination of all the things he doesn't like in Leonardo multiplied by 10. Despite all this, the thing that he hates the most is her absence of anger: there are few things in the world that Raphael likes more than stressing his perfect big brother and watching him lose his temper, but it seems IMPOSSIBLE to get the same reaction with Venus . No matter how much he teases her, ridicules her or bullies her ... she never breaks! And THAT is unforgivable. (As they will get to know each other better, Raphael will be able to see Venus for what she is: not the incarnation of perfection on Earth, but a very shy young woman with very basics communication skills )

Donatello: Donnie, now a 21-year-old man, is ashamed to face the ghosts of his childhood that Venus brings with her. He remembers very well how he treated her when they were young and is very ashamed of how bad he was to her. Age made him realize that despite not sharing the same beliefs he didn't had the right to mistreat her. Because of this, upon their reunion, Donatello can't even look her in the eye... The situation gets so much worse when he realizes that she is kind, peaceful and strategic and that the obsession and discipline she exercises in her spiritual rituals are equivalent to those himself repets with his inventions, experiments and research. In silence, he starts to admire her more and more, and the more he admires her the more shame he feels for how he treated her. For a long time, he fantasies with the day when he will be forgiven and accepted, who knows, maybe she will admire him in the same way ... Poor Donnie, he doesn't even imagine that Venus does not hold a single drop of resentment and that she ends up interpreting him distancing himself of her as a form of showing contempt. (Agsnt is my fucking life)

Michelangelo: Mikey finds Venus so.fucking.intimidating. He remmembered her as a very small and shy crybaby, but now? Now she is the greatest warrior he have ever seen. If Leonardo tries to be the authority figure and ends up rejected by his younger brother, Venus does not have the same intention, but ends up winning the respect and trust of the youngest of the group. She ends up being the only figure that Michelangelo really respects and obeys blindly after Master Splinter. He adores her  just as a troubled student adores the patient and empathetic vice director. Their friendship ends up becoming so sincere and pure that he starts playing video games on mute just to hear the stories she reads aloud.

_________________________________________________________

Well.. That’s it for Venus BIO! Please tell me what do you think! Every comment and opinion is welcome. My ask box is also open for any questions about this AU! Thank you so much for reading till the end. 

[eeveemasters]

hey, all you lovely people!  full disclosure i talk a lot and i have thought about this character thoroughly when you look under that read more... oh boy... just a heads up. anywho... guess i’m the last here i see, well, that’s typical. I’m late to literally everything, although this time I do have a good excuse. i’d tell you what it is but you don’t really wanna read about me gettin’ it in all weekend and drew is my bro -like literally. we share blood. we came outta the same womb. 26 hours of labor. 19 minutes apart. our poor mother-  so he def doesn’t wanna read about it and that is a swill of information about me before ya even know my name which says a lot, doesn’t it? inst-y-ways, I’m maddie and I’m Jewish, you’ll figure out why i’m putting that out there now. also hello again. i hope y’all are ready to get this party started, cause this is where it’s at! look below & hit that read more and I will tell you all about my baby girl, Eevee.

TW: DEATH, DEPRESSION, STALKER, MURDER, KIDNAPPING

★ ━  ( candice patton,   cis-female,   she/her )  ━ ★   just to be clear, ya didn’t get this information from me.   The person you’re lookin’ for is     EVELYN LUCIA MASTERS.   also known as     EEVEE.    Last I heard she was born on   APRIL 7TH, 1988    in    SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS,   but she’s been livin’ in   RICHMOND,    for about    EIGHT MONTHS.    Word around the districts is, this doll,    EEVEE  can be    VENGEFUL,   SELF-RIGHTEOUS,   &    A KNOW-IT-ALL,   but i gotta tell, ya, alls I seen is good things, like the fact that she’s   RESILIENT,   CHARISMATIC,    &     ENERGETIC.   I guess that depends on how well ya know ‘em, though.   the last thing ya need to know is that she works as an   A-LIST ACTRESS  &  CO-OWNER OF EXCALIBUR COMICS.  I don’t know much about what that’s all about but I do know that’s all I can tell ya the rest you gotta find out on ya, own.  ━     ( ooc:  maddie,   pst,   28,   she/her ) 

Evelyn Lucia Masters.

the irony of her name is that it means “wished for child”

she was definitely not.

hence why she goes by... 

Eevee. 

Yes, like the Pokemon.

No, it’s not a stage name or a gimmick.

She legally changed her name.

It’s on her credit card. ( so are kittens! )  

Born in San Antonio Texas.

Jewish, Bisexual & Very Proud.

Collette Rivers

Her mother.

One of the first and few Black, Soap Opera stars.

Had a wildly popular sitcom for a hot minute.

Career was on fire in the 80′s & 90′s.

Transitioned to clothing designer and eventually a reality tv real housewife when she couldn’t get jobs anymore.

Joseph Masters.

Her Father.

a former actor

was very well known for CSI.

was on broadway.

became a sought after director.

it’s a whole family in the biz, so of course...

@ two years of age, Eevee became an Actress™

baby diaper commercials with her mom.

then singing lessons.

then dance lessons.

then pageants.

more commercials.

a bit of child modeling.

more commercials.

reoccurring kid on sesame street.

then a reoccurring (but not staring) role on Gullah Gullah Island.

1998. She’s 10.

lands a role on Broadway opposite Leon Thomas III as Nala in The Lion King. 

this is the jumping-off point of her career. where it really shot off

but ignoring that for a minute...

Eevee has 5 other siblings.

4 of them are alive.

when Eevee was 15 she’d just gotten season 1st ( and eventually only ) season of her Disney show renewed and she had a stalker. on her 16th birthday, the stalker snuck into her sweet 16, cornered her when she and her older, brother Elias were alone, stabbed Elias, and kidnapped Eevee. Elias was rushed to the hospital when they found him but died shortly after.  They found Eevee, recovered her from the stalker unharmed, but when she asked about Elias... shortly after Eevee sunk deeper into her depression, and also suffered from survivors’ guilt and eventually had to stay in a mental hospital and was released a year later, a few days after her 17th birthday. being in the real world was hard for her and in a few weeks time, became legally emancipated from her parents because her father had taken control of monitoring her finances, her decisions, and became too controlling of her schedule and time out of his concern for her and her mother acted like none of it happened and expected Eevee to pick up where she left off and to get more jobs and keep working. It was an environment detrimental to her health and sanity so she had to get out of that and got her own place and moved away from her parents and unfortunately, her twin sister and younger brother.

Took a break from acting to finish high school.

had to have private tutors

excelled at the school aspect of her life.

had very few friends but she did have a girlfriend.

eventually, Eevee broke up with her

to seize her 5 minutes of fame she outted Eevee as a lesbian to TMZ.

It didn’t take long for Eevee to speak out.

At 17, in 2005, Eevee came out publically as Bisexual.

as a Black 17-year-old girl she was proud of herself.

but it did not go well for her in the media or in magazines.

didn’t help what little career she had left.

but she also kinda didn’t care

Became known for outspoken activism for LGBTQ+ youth.

Started her own charity and outreach program to finance and help struggling youth in the LGBTQ+ community by providing them with shelter, food, and treatment for health issues both mental and physical.  

went to college...

Northwestern State University.

joined the Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority

double-majored in theater and business

got married to one of her best friends at one point to help him out with his financial situation.

graduated with degrees. 

and real friends in and out of her sorority.

WORKED HER ASS OFF TO GET HER CAREER BACK ON TRACK.

it took a lot of hard work.

a lot of mediocre jobs.

a lot of auditions. 

a lot of shmoozing & playing the long game.

she pulled every single string

cashed every single favor

ate a lot of shit.

including going to her mother whom she hadn’t spoken to in six years.

EVENTUALLY ROSE BACK TO THE A-LIST WITH A VENGENCE.

Several Independent Films.

Supporting roles in TV shows.

Supporting roles in a few movies.

Starring roles in a number of pilots that never got greenlit.

Starring roles in 2 tv shows. 

one was canceled the first season.

the other had THREE SEASONS.

won an Emmy

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series

landed a few ad campaigns

Eevee went back to Broadway a few times over the years.

Bring It On: The Musical

played Danielle

won a tony

Best Featured Actress in a Musical.

Newsies: The Musical

played Katherine.

dream come true.

Hadestown

played Eurydice.

nominated for a Tony.

The Lion King

played adult Nala.

life coming full circle.

Currently stars in her own Netflix show. 

season 2 just finished filming which is why she has moved to Portland.

PERSONALITY:

very much a complete dork. loves video games, loves comic books, has a lot of memorabilia all through her house, it’s practically a dork museum, always telling puns. always joking. always been an adorable ray of sunshine. she really likes to be a light and enforce positivity for her friends and others.

talks far too much for her own good especially when she’s nervous.

very kind, generous, and loving, always willing to help a friend.

always willing to cook for someone as a way to comfort them. She’s a well-versed home chef and an excellent baker.

she’s in-between the vodka aunt and the mom friend. she’s the first to suggest doing shots and getting fucked up, but she’ll also make sure everyone’s okay and be responsible.

She’s that friend who if you fuck with one of her friends in any way she will go into protective mamma bear mode and straight-up end that person for you. if you need someone to back you up in a fight, literally, and have your back she is your girl.

she isn’t great at flirting or really being around anyone she finds attractive, she turns into a rambling, nonstop talking, pile of adorable.

up until the end of December last year, she was a virgin. She’s only ever slept with one person so she’s not really the sleep around kind of girl but respects those who do, you do you boo, but also please don’t mistake her for a relationship type girl either. she’s neither. she’s great at fooling around and hookups that usually stop before they get to the sex part. she’s actually just very awkward when it comes to intimacy and feelings and getting close to people in that way. It fucks with her anxiety so she just needs someone who can get her out of her head and that is very hard to find for her.

She’s a feminist and believes women should be there to support each other, but also is aware that feminism isn’t always equal and some women don’t include her as a woman to support because she is a woman of color and because she’s Black and will call someone out on their white feminist or anti-black bullshit.

she’s kind but is in no way a pushover. she’s very opinionated and steadfast and isn’t afraid to reason with someone and argue with them and stand up for herself.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS:

Friends: people who can put up with her non-stop chatter and find it endearing.

Fake Friends: people who are using her for fame, recognition and what her name can do for them.

Crushes: could be one-sided, could be both-sided, let’s talk about it.

Boxing Friendship: sparing partners, or someone who sees her at the boxing gym in her workout outfits that include but is not limited to color-coordinated custom gloves, that match both her outfit, her shoes, her gym bag and the giant cheerleading bow on the top of her high ponytail,  but has never actually stuck around to see her box so don’t believe she can throw an actual punch because they can’t take that seriously, because she’s just a pretty little celebrity what can she actually do, but then one day end up in an argument with her and challenge her to a sparring match and to their surprise kicks their ass and they become sparring partners. I don’t know, clearly I haven’t given that plot much thought.

Step-family member: Eevee doesn’t have a relationship with her mom, but she is aware the woman got married to another woman who has kids when Eevee was 19 or so. She’s never met any of them. Never spoken to any of them. Never been invited to family functions. Knows full well they exist and they know full well she exists and they have actually hung out with other members of her family, just not her. So that sounds like awkward and traumatic fun for all involved right?? Bring the angst.

Fellow Actors: They could be real friends, could be fake friends, could have worked together, could just know of each other, could be a publicity friendship, dude, I don’t know.

Fans / Haters: like her work or don’t like her work???????????? I don’t know I’m just throwing stuff out there at this point.

I don’t know we’ll figure something out, I AM PUMPED AND EXCITED!!

[grindskull]

Shit that fucks me up #1 - Toxic Masculinity and being a “man”

Gotta have some way to organize my random thoughts here. I’m going with the obvious thing - Shit that fucks me up (STFMU). This is about me and my experiences. It is not my intention to discredit or question other human experiences. Sharing in the hopes of connecting with others who may have feel similar in their own skin. There are things here that others may define as triggers so read at your own risk (rape, abuse, and this fucking world). ---

Here is me being vulnerable.  I am putting myself out there by discussing masculinity and how I often do not identify with the larger concept of “being a man” in any positive way. You can call it toxic masculinity if you prefer. It’s acceptable shorthand for something that is just as nuanced and difficult to wade through as anything gender related.  I read this article on The Atlantic yesterday and there were some things that really resonated with me and my experience as a man/male (he/his/him). You can read it here (sorry there is a pay wall if you read more than 4 articles a month) but I will also be quoting some of the article below.  If you have time to read the article I’ll wait. It’s a bit long (many articles on The Atlantic are) and kind of academic at times. It’s okay if you don’t agree with everything in the article. Just read it.  Done? Okay let me set the stage a bit for how this shit fucks me up. ---

I’m male. I have always identified as a male/boy/man in my life. Unfortunately my experience with other males/boys/men has been mostly negative. It started at an early age when I had a hard time connecting with other boys my age. I was not interested in typical “male” interests like sports, violence, competition, and achievement. I had few (usually 1 or 2) friends at any one time and they typically had some kind of unhealthy power dynamic over me where I was subservient to my “friend” in some way.  I have some thoughts on reasons why this happened. The short version is I lived in poverty (often extreme) and I was searching for help and support in order to survive. At home I had abuse (mental, physical, verbal), drugs, addiction, and neglect. It was not a safe place to be so I did whatever I could to not be there. It was not unusual for me to eat maybe one meal during the day (typically what I could get from others at school or their home). Winter was the worst as we often did not have heat. Some of my “friends” used this as a way to hold power over me and make demands of my personality, time, and attention. Imagine finding yourself in this situation - you have to actively work to not be yourself in order to appease others for your very survival. Of course as a youth I didn’t identify it this way - my “friends” were just bossy or demanding. All of my male role models were basically assholes who did not give a fuck about anyone except themselves. This was a huge part of the 80′s zeitgeist in popular culture at the time as well. In some ways nothing has really changed. “... when asked to describe the attributes of “the ideal guy,” those same boys appeared to be harking back to 1955. Dominance. Aggression. Rugged good looks (with an emphasis on height). Sexual prowess. Stoicism. Athleticism. Wealth (at least some day).“ Under this common definition of “masculinity” I do not see myself. I am loyal, honest, caring, and sweet (to those I love). I love my body though I am non-athletic and have been most of my life. I am an attentive and talented lover but I have had very few sexual partners in my life and never saw them as moments of “conquest”. I was dirt poor most of my life but now live comfortably in my own home with my long term partner. So while not “wealthy” it is far beyond anything I could have imagined I would have in my life as a boy. Stoicism I have down. That one was easy. For me it’s just a nice way of saying “I have completely disconnected from my emotions and not having feelings or emotions is the best way to be a man”. I believed that for a very long time - it’s only in the past 2-3 years I have begun the work of breaking that down and reconnecting with my own emotions. It’s all tied up in trauma, depression, and anxiety so it takes a bit of fucking work but it’s very much worth it. If you are a man/male who thinks it is normal to not have emotions (or that emotions make you feminine/weak) please listen to me - THAT IS BULLSHIT. YOU OWE IT TO YOURSELF TO HAVE EMOTIONS.

“... young men described just one narrow route to successful masculinity. One-third said they felt compelled to suppress their feelings, to “suck it up” or “be a man” when they were sad or scared, and more than 40 percent said that when they were angry, society expected them to be combative.“

Emotions are not weakness. You are not weak for having them, feeling them, or connecting with them. There is great strength in connecting with yourself and understanding your emotions. Don’t let anyone tell you different. They are delusional at best and actively trying to harm you at worst.

“While following the conventional script may still bring social and professional rewards to boys and men, research shows that those who rigidly adhere to certain masculine norms are not only more likely to harass and bully others but to themselves be victims of verbal or physical violence. They’re more prone to binge-drinking, risky sexual behavior, and getting in car accidents. They are also less happy than other guys, with higher depression rates and fewer friends in whom they can confide.”

---

How did we get here!? Have men always been this way? What about the good ole masculinity of ye olden times? It was a simple time where men were men right? A man’s man? “According to Andrew Smiler, a psychologist who has studied the history of Western masculinity, the ideal late-19th-century man was compassionate, a caretaker, but such qualities lost favor as paid labor moved from homes to factories during industrialization. In fact, the Boy Scouts, whose creed urges its members to be loyal, friendly, courteous, and kind, was founded in 1910 in part to counter that dehumanizing trend. Smiler attributes further distortions in masculinity to a century-long backlash against women’s rights. During World War I, women proved that they could keep the economy humming on their own, and soon afterward they secured the vote. Instead of embracing gender equality, he says, the country’s leaders “doubled down” on the inalienable male right to power, emphasizing men’s supposedly more logical and less emotional nature as a prerequisite for leadership.”

Take a minute to read that and really take it in. Like many things in the US (and the world) the effects of industrialization and war shaped our current version of accepted masculinity. More specifically the leaders of this country (and leaders in other countries) used their positions of power to strengthen men and this new masculinity in our institutions. Then we were taught that this was the “right way” to “be a man”. FUCK. THIS. SHIT.

“Today many parents are unsure of how to raise a boy, what sort of masculinity to encourage in their sons. But as I learned from talking with boys themselves, the culture of adolescence, which fuses hyper-rationality with domination, sexual conquest, and a glorification of male violence, fills the void.“

Here we have the core of what I experience as a man when it comes to the current socially accepted version of masculinity and why it fucks me up. I don’t identify with any of this shit! It does not feed me. It does not make me feel fulfilled and happy. It doesn’t make the world better for anyone it simply dehumanizes us all. 

“In a classic study, adults shown a video of an infant startled by a jack-in-the-box were more likely to presume the baby was “angry” if they were first told the child was male. Mothers of young children have repeatedly been found to talk more to their girls and to employ a broader, richer emotional vocabulary with them; with their sons, again, they tend to linger on anger. As for fathers, they speak with less emotional nuance than mothers regardless of their child’s sex. Despite that, according to Judy Y. Chu, a human-biology lecturer at Stanford who conducted a study of boys from pre-K through first grade, little boys have a keen understanding of emotions and a desire for close relationships. But by age 5 or 6, they’ve learned to knock that stuff off, at least in public: to disconnect from feelings of weakness, reject friendships with girls (or take them underground, outside of school), and become more hierarchical in their behavior.“

I’m not going to get into the topic of my own father (that’s another post in this series for sure) too deeply but I will say I completely identify with these ideas. Emotional distance, only expressing anger, telling me having emotions was weak. This was reinforced societal norms throughout my youth through today. Don’t talk about your problems or feelings. Ball them up inside. Wall yourself off from the world. Connections = weakness that others will exploit. You must control every situation and hold power over others. FUCK. THIS. SHIT.

---

So when did I wake up? When did I start to see through this shit in some way? When my younger sister was born. It was really obvious to me that she was treated in a different way and expectations of her as a girl/woman were not the same as the expectations others had for me. Mostly I just saw the negatives in this. It took me time (and lots of communication and experiences with my partner and others) to recognize the root of this was more fucked up socialization. 

“Girlfriends, mothers, and in some cases sisters were the most common confidants of the boys I met. While it’s wonderful to know they have someone to talk to—and I’m sure mothers, in particular, savor the role—teaching boys that women are responsible for emotional labor, for processing men’s emotional lives in ways that would be emasculating for them to do themselves, comes at a price for both sexes. Among other things, that dependence can leave men unable to identify or express their own emotions, and ill-equipped to form caring, lasting adult relationships.”

Read this carefully. Nobody is responsible for your emotional well being but you. If you are a male/man this is especially true - females/women are not responsible for managing your emotions and your reliance on them to take care of this is a form of abuse. They are not responsible for your emotions. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN EMOTIONS.

It can be really hard to see this. It was a blind spot for me for way too long. Don’t let it be one for you. Connecting with and taking responsibility for your emotions is one of the biggest things you can do to improve yourself as a human being. If you are sad you can cry. If you are happy you can laugh. You have a wide range of emotions and they don’t all lead to frustration or anger.

“As someone who, by virtue of my sex, has always had permission to weep, I didn’t initially understand this. Only after multiple interviews did I realize that when boys confided in me about crying—or, even more so, when they teared up right in front of me—they were taking a risk, trusting me with something private and precious: evidence of vulnerability, or a desire for it.“

---

Okay so putting aside all of the reinforcement we get from our parents and institutions and our lack of emotional vulnerability why do we all buy into this dumb shit? Who convinced us all this is what masculinity is? And why do we listen?

“What the longtime sportswriter Robert Lipsyte calls “jock culture” (or what the boys I talked with more often referred to as “bro culture”) is the dark underbelly of male-dominated enclaves, whether or not they formally involve athletics: all-boys’ schools, fraternity houses, Wall Street, Silicon Valley, Hollywood, the military. Even as such groups promote bonding, even as they preach honor, pride, and integrity, they tend to condition young men to treat anyone who is not “on the team” as the enemy (the only women who ordinarily make the cut are blood relatives— bros before hos!), justifying any hostility toward them. Loyalty is paramount, and masculinity is habitually established through misogynist language and homophobia.”

Sounds familiar right guys? Don’t kid yourself. This is what being a man looks like in almost all situations in which we feel “safe” to express our self right? You are either with us or against us. Anything different or anyone questioning this behavior must be “othered” as they are clearly not “on the team”. FUCK. THIS. SHIT.

This was my entire experience as a youth. As someone who did not fit into this group (nor wanted to) I was immediately “othered” and deemed a “pussy” or “fag” or “homo” or “weirdo”. My friend group reflected this - mostly others who also were “not on the team” like women, gays and lesbians, and men who also did not identify with this version of masculinity. Which just made it easier to group us all together and identify us as the enemy. 

“Just because some young men now draw the line at referring to someone who is openly gay as a fag doesn’t mean, by the way, that gay men (or men with traits that read as gay) are suddenly safe. If anything, the gay guys I met were more conscious of the rules of manhood than their straight peers were. They had to be—and because of that, they were like spies in the house of hypermasculinity.” Without the ability to connect with and express my emotions I often reacted in anger. I started fights. I got violent (with words and writing mostly). I returned this “othering” and treated them all as the enemy. I had other reasons for this (being abused by men as a boy) but at the crux of the issue I had no trust for men. This helped me connect with women and my gay friends as they also experienced this distrust in similar (and different) ways. 

Years later I found myself in a job where I managed a group of men (100 or more at any time) working as a team (video game industry) and totally unable to connect with any of them as a human let alone a man. It was at this time that I realized this was a problem beyond my own experiences and when I started to understand my own participation in this system. 

I tried to question things as they came up. I tried to hear my teammates and help them navigate this murky sea of masculinity to find their own place in it. Most people didn’t want to participate. They learned to keep their mouth shut if I was within earshot of their typical “bro talk”. They learned to act differently around me so as not to incur my wrath (using my anger and position of power to punish them for being sexist, racist, or intolerant). I felt powerful and I tricked myself into thinking I was making a difference. I was wrong. 

---

“Recently, Pascoe turned her attention to no homo, a phrase that gained traction in the 1990s. She sifted through more than 1,000 tweets, primarily by young men, that included the phrase. Most were expressing a positive emotion, sometimes as innocuous as “I love chocolate ice cream, #nohomo” or “I loved the movie The Day After Tomorrow, #nohomo.” “A lot of times they were saying things like ‘I miss you’ to a friend or ‘We should hang out soon,’ ” she said. “Just normal expressions of joy or connection.” No homo is a form of inoculation against insults from other guys, Pascoe concluded, a “shield that allows boys to be fully human.”

It wasn’t long before my “making a difference” spread into our hiring, training, and management of the team. I brought in women who wanted to work in the game industry. I tried to shut down any of the bro culture bullshit that came up and used it as an opportunity to teach other men why it was fucked up. It worked for some (maybe 5-6 people out of hundreds) but the majority either quit or tried to get me fired. Most did not change their behavior in any way. 

The women said they knew what they were getting into. I don’t believe they knew what it was like to actually be in the middle of the situation. I assume women in the military probably have a lot of experience like this. In short - it’s fucking toxic and disgusting. Like other males/men they too have to fall in line and “become one of the boys” or risk being antagonized and ostracized for being “different”. It’s Lord of the Flies. It’s fucking mob mentality. It’s masculinity at it’s absolute worst. And this was in a “progressive” creative city working for a small company with a woman CEO. Men simply don’t give a fuck and it’s almost always easier to go with the flow. FUCK. THIS. SHIT.

My first experience with a trans individual in a work setting occurred was while I was managing this team. One of our long term employees made the transition and I had to watch how they were treated by the “bros’. Jokes were made, memes were shared, snickering and fucked up behavior was rampant. I had to talk to, discipline, and fire many individuals. These were men I thought were “on the team” and working to be good examples of masculinity. I should have known that was just part of the act - their way of surviving and showing subservience to me as a man in a position of power over them. My trust was further eroded in masculinity. 

Putting yourself over others is not power. It is dehumanization and it stems from hate. We can be different without being better or worse than someone else regardless of who they are. Not everything has to be a competition. It took me way too long to undo the damage done to me by these ideal of toxic masculinity. You can do it too - you just have to start today. 

---

Beyond the negative effects this version of masculinity has on us as males/men it also fucks up our interaction with women and sexual partners and it’s certainly done so to me. I’m actively working on unfucking my fucking and aware that many of my heterosexual ideals of sex stem from the same shit I have been actively fighting against most of my life. Connecting emotionally with your sexual partner takes things to a completely different level.

“It’s not like I imagined boys would gush about making sweet, sweet love to the ladies, but why was their language so weaponized ? The answer, I came to believe, was that locker-room talk isn’t about sex at all, which is why guys were ashamed to discuss it openly with me. The (often clearly exaggerated) stories boys tell are really about power: using aggression toward women to connect and to validate one another as heterosexual, or to claim top spots in the adolescent sexual hierarchy. Dismissing that as “banter” denies the ways that language can desensitize—abrade boys’ ability to see girls as people deserving of respect and dignity in sexual encounters.”  

This is the first thing that comes to my mind when I hear the term “rape culture”. As men we are taught that to be masculine is to claim “wins” in sexual conquest. Sex is property and we can collect it. Even if it’s with our long term partners or spouses. Ever tried talking to men about this? Ever questioned others on how it’s fucked up? You probably heard about how it’s all in jest. Just a joke! I’m just joking!  “When called out, boys typically claim that they thought they were just being “funny.” And in a way that makes sense—when left unexamined, such “humor” may seem like an extension of the gross-out comedy of childhood. Little boys are famous for their fart jokes, booger jokes, poop jokes. It’s how they test boundaries, understand the human body, gain a little cred among their peers. But, as can happen with sports, their glee in that can both enable and camouflage sexism. The boy who, at age 10, asks his friends the difference between a dead baby and a bowling ball may or may not find it equally uproarious, at 16, to share what a woman and a bowling ball have in common (you can Google it). He may or may not post ever-escalating “jokes” about women, or African Americans, or homosexuals, or disabled people on a group Snapchat. He may or may not send “funny” texts to friends about “girls who need to be raped,” or think it’s hysterical to surprise a buddy with a meme in which a woman is being gagged by a penis, her mascara mixed with her tears. He may or may not, at 18, scrawl the names of his hookups on a wall in his all-male dorm, as part of a year-long competition to see who can “pull” the most. Perfectly nice, bright, polite boys I interviewed had done one or another of these things.”

Let me be clear in case you are confused. This shit isn’t funny. Laughing at other people’s misfortune is a long standing human tradition yes - and it still dehumanizes everyone involved. That doesn’t make me laugh but maybe you are still amused? Why?

“At the most disturbing end of the continuum, “funny” and “hilarious” become a defense against charges of sexual harassment or assault. To cite just one example, a boy from Steubenville, Ohio, was captured on video joking about the repeated violation of an unconscious girl at a party by a couple of high-school football players. “She is so raped,” he said, laughing. “They raped her quicker than Mike Tyson.” When someone off camera suggested that rape wasn’t funny, he retorted, “It isn’t funny—it’s hilarious!”

The classic toxic masculinity force field present in my life has been the “just joking” phrase with the ultimate no consequence phrase “it’s hilarious!”. Say something you don’t want to manage the consequences for? Just a joke! People still question you or your morals after saying some heinous shit? No.. it’s cool... it’s hilarious! You just gotta laugh! FUCK. THIS. SHIT.

“Hilarious” is another way, under the pretext of horseplay or group bonding, that boys learn to disregard others’ feelings as well as their own. “Hilarious” is a haven, offering distance when something is inappropriate, confusing, depressing, unnerving, or horrifying; when something defies boys’ ethics. It allows them to subvert a more compassionate response that could be read as unmasculine—and makes sexism and misogyny feel transgressive rather than supportive of an age-old status quo. Boys may know when something is wrong; they may even know that true manhood—or maybe just common decency—compels them to speak up. Yet, too often, they fear that if they do, they’ll be marginalized or, worse, themselves become the target of derision from other boys. Masculinity, then, becomes not only about what boys do say, but about what they don’t—or won’t, or can’t—say, even when they wish they could. The psychologists Dan Kindlon and Michael Thompson, the authors of Raising Cain: Protecting the Emotional Life of Boys, have pointed out that silence in the face of cruelty or sexism is how too many boys become men. 

I feel like I may have already gone too far into this dark hole of shit that fucks me up around toxic masculinity. I hope I didn’t lose you. I hope you have questions and thoughts about how this impacts your life. Perhaps ways that you make a change today to fight against this bullshit. You may be asking yourself “what can we do!?” At the end of the day its up to males/men to change this culture. It’s not about self-hate or self-abuse. We gotta name this and own it. We need more men to step up and say ‘It doesn’t have to be like this”. Our collective mental health requires us to be more flexible and connected to ourselves and emotions. We need to find ways to deal with our anger, frustration, and desires in ways that don’t hurt ourselves and others. We need to teach ourselves (especially youth) that it isn’t enough to only talk about things we shouldn’t (and hopefully won’t) do. 

If this shit fucks you too you can do something about it. Start with yourself. Question these things when they come up. And not only when you feel “safe” to do so. Do it consistently in ways that are non-confrontational (they will probably lead to confrontations with most men anyway - sorry). Be okay with not always “winning’ in these situations. You’ll be surprised who you might connect with in the process. Hopefully one of those people will be yourself. 

[cuteissei]

Stars and cookies

Genre: fluff, cute maybe i got emo

Pairing: NCT’s Haechan x Reader

Notes: I don’t know what I’m doing I just opened this and started typing I guess. It’s my first au so i hope you like it uwu and sorry for the mistakes this wasn’t proof read ig

————

The past days had been rough on you to say the least. As hard as it was to stay awake studying, you didn’t want to go to sleep either. It was that feeling of being tired after reading textbooks about the Troll Wars, the foundation of Wizarding schools and other things that made you want to jump into your bed, sneak into the warm, wine-colored sheets for the night. Yet you didn’t want to do that right away; studying up all night tired you out to the point of having enough energy to do other things that you couldn’t normally do at two in the morning. Normally you would set a schedule for studying, but after having procrastinated so much during school time, you had to catch up with the subjects you missed during Christmas break. And no one likes studying during Christmas.

Your room was exceptionally empty. Your roomates had left for their houses a few days ago and wouldn’t be coming back until after New Year, therefore leaving you alone to do whatever you wished in the room. Maybe they expected you to go wild as usual, with your crazy loud laughs, bad jokes and hyperactivity; how disappointed and surprised would they be once you told them you had only used the shared room to throw books around in frustration before going to the kitchens, grabbing food and leaving the cookies and chocolate packages in their beds that you had to clean up after.

Today was one of those nights. The dim light the candles and your wand irradiated were not enough to keep you focused, as you shifted your eyes back and forth between the fire of the candle and your half-written essay. You felt the frustration forming inside of you, so you just decided to give in for the night. As much as you hated this, studying late for subjects you should already know, you preferred it a hundred times better than having to go back home to your parents and siblings planning the meetings and their complaints over your grades. You also knew that if you were home you wouldn’t do any efforts to come close to the school truck to take any books out to revise. Still, being one of the few Gryffindors in the tower was sad. There were a few kids keeping you company such as a little third year and his brother Yunho, a few fifth year girls who for some reason didn’t go back to their homes as usual and whom you talked to whenever you decided it was better to eat at the Common Room instead of your room.

It was around one thirty am when you finally stood up from the desk and turned to your closet. Your warm orange pijama was not keeping you safe for what you were planning a few moments ago. You decided to put a black hoodie and some sneakers on before heading out of the room and passing the Common Room, where you spotted some girls sleeping in front of the fire place. You sighed and conjured a blanket to put on top of them because even when you knew the fireplace was warm, winter wasn’t going easy that year.

The school corridors were too lonely. Maybe if you had asked your friend Jaemin to stay it wouldn’t have been so bad, but he seemed so happy to go back home to see his sister and his other friends that you couldn’t do that to him. Asking Jeno and Mark to stay wasn’t an option either, as they both had to go home and check on their families after not having spent Christmas with them for two years. Jeno was a nice Hufflepuff you befriended in second year, when you and Jaemin came across him walking around the lake trying to take a look at the fishes while you two had been splashing water at each other. He seemed so lonely that you invited him to play with you, and he easily gave in because of Jaemin’s welcoming smile and your sincere attention to him. As to Mark, he was a sixth year Gryffindor as well. You knew him from the Quidditch team, when you were his first pick for Beater when you applied for the team.

Remembering your friends made you lose the notion of time and the sense of location as you seemed to have missed the entire corridor leading to the kitchen, but you easily came back to track. After tickling the pear to enter, your attention was immediately caught by a bright Slytherin boy you knew from a few classes together. And porbably because your heart kept doing a thing when he walked around telling jokes to two younger boys. You decided to ignore his presence and quickly moved to the oven to check on the cookies and chocolate bread an elf had just put inside when a hand touched yoour shoulder and turned around.

“Hello, I’m Donghyuck.” You were amazed by the honey-like voice this young boy had, but even more by the fact he spoke nicely and smiled as soon as your eyes met his. You wanted to speak but the words wouldn’t leave your mouth so he giggled a little, making your heart fluster just a little.

“I know it’s weird but it must be the lack of sleep or the smell of the cookies giving mem courage to come up to you right now”, a faint blushed covered his cheeks and it was your time to laugh.

“That’s sweet of you Donghyuck, and it’s okay. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” you showed him a smile and a small sprinkle showed up in his eyes for a second. 

“What brings you here at...”he checked the time in a smal pocket watch he had in his green tunic. “two in the morning?”

“Actually I’m always here at this time, I can’t stand studying anymore and I get hungry at the worst times, you see...” you sounded embarrassed but he guided you to a table to sit before speaking.

“ I have only found the kitchen because of a friend who told me a few weeks ago. No regrets of coming here though.” He stared at you before looking away, straight at the door. “Doesn’t anyone ever come here? Like I swear I hvae just seen Hufflepuffs come here, is it VIP for them?” The two laughed befoore you answered him.

“I don’t think so, I mean you and I are sitting here tonight. Besides, Jeno told me there are a few other people who come here as well so I’m sure it isn’t a secret place.” His eesyes widened as you mentioned your friend which only made you curious. “Wait, you know Jeno?”

“Lee Jeno?” you nodded. “Then yes I do. He told me about this place, actually.”

“I didn’t know Jeno was friends with you. He spends most of the time with us but I never really knew if he had other friends besides our group and amybe now I feel bad” you laughed a little.

“Why? For not knowing of our friendship? It’s not like many people  knew anyways, we mostly meet up to study I guess...” when he mentioned studying you kinda got your hopes up.

“Studying what? Could it possibly be History of Magic?” to which he hummed a positive reply. “Oh thank Merlin! I know we just met but do you think I could oin you guys to study sometime? Binns is breaking my every bone with his exams and I have fallen asleep at least half of our classes... Is it okay with you?”

“Nope. I think it would be better if we just met up at a different time in another place, the libary is too common.” What. Does. That. Mean. Your heart stopped beating when he said no, and then started beating again and really hard when he continued his sentence. 

“Where would you like to meet then?” The smirk on his face turned into a big genuine smile before he took your hand and ran tout of the kitchen wit you. Your mind was crowded with questions but he wouldn’t stop at all.

“Where are my cookies?!”

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The entire school knew Hogwarts had some of the best views, but at night from the Astronomy Tower? That was pure beauty. But Donoghyuck coulnd’t deny he had a better view just by looking to his side and seeing you stare up at the shinning stars in the sky.

Yourr eyes were brighting under the starlight, and he ran out of breath. He didn’t know how he went from being the cheerful extrovertd Slytherin with his friends to a shy small boy next to you. It was perhaps the smell of chocolate and caramel you had, or maybe just the fact that his five years-long crush was sitting next to him, their hand right next to his. He felt the urge to hold it, and he didn’t think much before his hand went and m emt yours, feelinga warm spread through his arm.

When you felt his hand tugging into yours, your heart swooshed and almost came out of your chest of happiness. You looked at him and smiled lightly, gripping his hand tighter. You felt him move closer so you did as well.

“How did you find this place? I thought it wasn’t open for us after Astronomy classes during first year?” 

“You know I have a charm that even gets to the Professors and they can’t resist me” he said jokingly.

“Of course I know, they can’t do anything about your cuteness.” And that was enough to get the two of you flustered like never before. “I gotta go Hyuckie, I left my cookies at the kitchen butI hope we can keep meeting here, if you’re okay with that.” He slowly nodded, and then you took off to your room. Fuck the cookies you would probably not even eat them tonight.

Donghyuck sat in the tower, blushing more and more as his mind keep repeating his new nickname again and again “Hyuckie, Hyuckie, Hyuckie, Hyuckie”

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

The days went by, you and the Slytherin boy still meeting up at the tower. You actually went and studied with him the rest  of the holidays, and suddenly staying at Hogwarts wasn’t so bad. It is funny how from two strangers, you went to become really good friends. Spending New Years and wishing to have a good future with him had nothing to do. Nope. Not at all. 

You loved how you spoke so much about the other that you knew his favorite cookies were the ones made at the kitchen, how much he likes the sun but adores the stars as well (that’s why he went to the Astronomy Tower), how much he likes the color green, he explained how he and his brother’s relationship was quite difficult but still loved each other he dyed his hair before leaving it orangey brown, how much he likes to sing and sang for you a couple of times to the point of almost falling asleep to his voice. But he also knew you adored chocolate and chocolate cookies like him, how you liked flying around with your broom, the little fish from the lake, the stars, your friends and holding hands.

You remember getting cookies, a moon necklaece and chocolates for Christmas and New Years, and you knew who they were from. The funny part is that you had also gotten Hyuck cookies and chocolates as a gift along with a green knitted sweater. None of you complained when you went to the usal place and ate them together.

Jaemin, Mark and Jeno finally got back to school. You told them everything that what happened between you two and how your heart kept doing flips when hanging out with him, Mark and Jaemin immediately turned their older brother mode on, and Jeno just looked at you as if it was the greatest thing he ever heard. His best friend finally openly admitting their feelings for his other friend? The best news ever, maybe their pinning would stop earlier than he thought. And what better than to set them up together.

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

February came around, juts like the final Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw match that was in a few hours and you couldn’t be more excited. Your team had worked so hard to get to the finals and now it was the day you finally picked the Quidditch cup for your house. You spotted Hyuck at the Slytherin table eating his breakfast, so you quickly went to him and left a kiss on his cheek before having the two of you become a blushing mess and Jisung and Chenle mocking you.  You had met the duo a few weeks back, when you came across them at the libary and asked them where his older friend was. They wereof no help, but you three did become good friends eventually, even if they kept teasing you about your “snakey boy”.

“Are you coming to the match today, Hyuckie?” you asked staring at him nervously.

“Of course, you know I’d go anywhere for you. Besides, I kinda wanna see you hit Doyoung before he leaves. He might be my brother and a good Chaser, but you are a Gryffindor and an amazing Beater.” If the hearts in his eyes were obvious, you surely didn’t see them, but his friends did and immediately teased him when you left.

“What was that?” “Are you two finally together? “When did he ask you? “You hadn’t told us?” Those were the questions you were greeted with but you answered none as you sat down at your table, too flustered thinking about what you did back there. You kissed a boy’s cheek, and not any boy but your Hyuck’s cheek. You had to have a motive to kiss him again, a really good motive. 

“Mark, we need to win this match. We MUST win this match. I’m now sure we will.” you said looking over at your captain.

“Y/N? I mean I know we should and you knew this before but what made you so confident?” his confused face would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so focused on finding a way to win following the plan you had been practicing with.

“For me and Hyuck’s sake we must. I’m telling him today after we win the match. Mark my words” you stood up and ran off to the pitch before any of the boys could say a word.

“She’s going to do WHAT?!” Jaemin screamed before Jeno covered his mouth. “I mean finally but it seems so sudden. Do you think she has an actual plan?”

“Knowing her, she probably doesn’t but at least they’ll be together.” Mark said.

“IF you win today.” Jeno said before hetting hit by the two boys at his sides.

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

(idk how to write quidditch scenes)

During the match a lot happened.

Ravenclaw started off winning 60-10.

Mark had lost his mind and started yelling at the team and had no pity against the other team to the point of flying too fast next to Renjun, Ravenclaw’s Beater.

That’s why he had gotten at least three Bludgers sent his way, had it not been for Y/N he would have been hit and sent to the Infirmary Wing.

(Madame Pomfrey doesn’t want him there anymore.)

The Chasers actually started seeing and forcing their way into the goal posts and eventually Gryffindor had the lead 90-60.

Doyoung kept actually getting close to Gryffindor’s goals, which made the Keeper fully focus on his strategy. Taeyong wasn’t a bad Keeper but his crush on the Ravenclaw made it hard for him.

Which is why Doyoung scored at least four more goals having them back at 100-90

When the Snitch finally appeared Jaemin never flew so fast but so neither had Yang Jeongin.

Jaemin did hear his friends yelling at him to get the hell away from the stairs as they were flying right above their heads.

Hyuck even tried to reach out his hand but was pulled down so fast by Chenle. Everyone say thank you Zhong Chenle.

Despite never lilking Quidditch, he coulnd’t help but stare at Y/N in awe as they sent Bludger after Bludger to the other team and wondered how none of them had ever fallen off their brooms as the balls were sent with quite some strength.

He was cheering for Gryffindor until Doyoung looked at him dead in the eye and he started chanting for Ravenclaw AND Gryffindor.

Somehow the scored ended 240-130.

Gryffindor won.

Mark, Jaemin and Jeno were cheering both for the team and the girl.

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

The Gryffindor captain said some words, and Y/N had never been so nervous to speak before. They had spotted Hyuck in the public and tried even harder to impress him without nknowing that he admired them for just stepping in the field.

“... and now one of my fellow teammates has some special words to say.” You spaced out so much you barely heard Mark’s speech. You saw him handing you the microphone and you took it with shaky hands. Thank Merlin you were already on land because you would’ve probably fallen off your broom because of all the eyes you had on you at the moment.

“Hi” you muttered to try the microphone despite knowing damn well it worked, but you needed a few seconds to regain courage to speak.

“Oh it works,” you dsmsddschuckled nervously. Mark and Jaemin exchanged looks. “Well. Hello everyone, thank you for coming to the final match of the year. I want to congratulate Ravenclaw’s team for playing so amazing, for a second I thought we would lose,” you saw Renjun’s sarcastic look before he softened up and smiled at you and gave a thumbs up. “I want to congratulate my team as well for being so hard-working and having an amazing motivation to give everything on the field. But here comes the funny part, my motiviation isn’t actually Quidditch related.” You could perfectly hear murmurs from the crowd but your eyes were locked on the same direction: where the three Slytherin were sitting, two of them looking happily surprised at the confused other. “A few weeks ago, I could have been playing for fun, but today I realized playing isn’t just for fun but to gain confidence on yourself and encourage other people. My motivation has been one particular person sitting today in the crowd. Earlier this morning I promised my friends I would win this match to prove my own courage I got from training hard and the efforts we have all made to get here. I was confident enough to do my best and finally say things I have had inside for a while.”

“Lee Donghyuck.” All eyes immediately turned at him, making him bush. Doyoung gasped so hard he could’ve sworn he was heard by the merpeople under the lake. “You have been my motivation not only for the match, but also to work harder in class and become a good person with other people, otherwise I know Porfessor Binns wouldn’t have hesitated and fail me I guess.” you laughed to relieve the stress. “But I also wanted to win this match to tell you that if I could win in Quidditch I could also win your heart.” There. You would’ve fainted had it not been for the boy’s glassy eyes and soft smile on his face. “I have liked you for years now, I never had the courage to even go up to you and say hello but the night we met it’s like the stars were aligned for us, I don’t want to hear anyone say it’s cheesy because I looked it up and they were!” 

“It’s not the best moment to do it but like I said, I made a promise and I always keep them. Besides I don’t know if you would ever do this youself so here goes nothing. If you don’t mind, would you like to be my boyfriend? Or at least let me get into your heart?” You were about to breakdown when he looked down to his figdeting hands, and your heart sank deeper when you  saw him wipping his tears. When he looked up it was like time had stopped though, because your eyes connected and the happy spark never left his eyes. Your heart bursted into confetti, fireworks, flowers, butterlfies or whatever when he started nodding and sent a conjured heart-shapped flower towards you. The entire stadium bursted into cheers and the world couldn’t have been happier for the two of you.

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

It was no surprise you two found youselves sneeking out of the Gryffindor partying Tower after the match. He held your hand and started walking to your place. 

Once sitting at the edge of the tower, he looked at you and you turned around to look back at him.

“So all this time, you liked me?”

“I don’t think I ever liked you, Hyuck, I think I went straight to falling in love with you.” Your eyes teared up of happiness and his hands went to your face.

“Believe me, I fell in love with you at first sight, but never had the courage you had to go to you until the night in the kitchen.”

His eyes looked atr yours, trying to look deeper into you. Then they went to examine your entire face before falling to your lips. Your gaze fell in his too, and he looked up back at you as if asking for permission. You barely nodded when you leaned in to close the distance between your mouths.

When your lips met, it was like kissing chocolate flavored lips. And that was absolute heaven for yu. Your lips matched together so well, like two missing puzzle pieces made for the other. You parted your lips before kissimg him better, and his other hand came to your face and he was suddenly cupping both of your cheeks in them. Your entire being was combusting, and the erradiated a warm that only made you want to melt into hi,m.

The kiss was broken by your sudden giggle, and he stared at youin confusion.

“When I said the stars were aligned the night we met, I meant it. They were. And I’m sure we were destined to be together Donghyuck. The bright being in the sky knew what they were doing that night. I’m so thankful I got angry at one in the morning that time, I really am.”

“I don’t know why you still believe the stars are the brightest beings wehn you are the only light I see for me. I don’t know if it’s too soon to say i but I cannot tell you how I feel other than by saying that I love you like you love the stars.”

“And I love you like you ove your cookies.”

The following kiss was more sincere than ever. The two teenagers poured their hearts and emotions into it, as it was the only way for their souls to physically connect, because they are soulmates and their souls were attached from the moment they met.

The stars never witnessed a love as pure as the one shown by the couple, but if the stars made it work for them, then that’s the way it was supposed to be.

[levi-ish]

Don’t Ask My Neighbors | 1

Summary: When the night is quiet as a whisper and the windows are all closed, sneaky kisses are shared under the same old tree where kids swore their love would never fade.

Pairing: Tom Holland X Enemy!Reader

Disclaimer: mentions of car accidents, sex and alcohol (there’ll be smut later in this story)

A/N: Hi there! Thank you so much for all of you who read the teaser and liked it, so here’s the first part, and I hope you guys enjoy! Also, I set your sisters, parents and last names already because it was getting too confusing to write, so yup. Sorry for the shitty chapter, I promise the next ones will be more intriguing.

Also, if you want to be tagged, send me an ASK.

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

“Your neighbor is hot” Dave peeked through the curtains as you kept your eyes glued into the notebook, writing down more complex words that would lead you to a better grade.

“My neighbor?” You asked without even looking, knowing already what he was talking about, or even worse — whom.

“Dude, look at that fucking eight-pack” Eva sighed, sneaking under Dave’s arm and peeking through the window while you wondered if you should offer them a napkin or something like that. “But (Y/N) already told me that he’s off limits, so...”

You rolled your eyes and turned around on your chair, analyzing the two other young-adults that were crowding around your window, staring at the boy’s room and letting their hormones take over their minds.

“Why’s that?” Dave bit his lower lip and turned around, running a hand on his dark hair and twitching his mouth to the side.

“Because of their families’ war” said the other girl before you could even think of an answer.

And she wasn’t wrong; not only he was off limits, but his entire family was too. 

You never had the chance to ask for a cup of sugar or to even wave back while putting the trash away; or even to pet the Holland’s dog from time to time because of the weird looks you would receive from your own family and from the other. So a normal life in suburbia wasn’t something you grew used to.

It all started before you could even see the light of day, when your family bought the house that other couple wanted, because the neighborhood was quiet and that specific place had a better yard and pool. The Hollands, however, decided to buy the house on the left and your parents, who weren’t that fond of competition, decided not to let them slide that easily.

The firsts steps were the fake smiles and crooked gazes to their backs, and then, soon enough, the families started to rub each conquest against each others faces. When Nikki first got pregnant with her boy, your mother called for a war. She discovered that she was pregnant too a few months later, having you and then, she didn’t want to waste more time, trying again, only to have a baby girl two and a half years later, your sister Morgan. 

But then, Nikki discovered that she was having twins — and guess what?! — your parents couldn’t stand the thought of losing. 

With all that back and forth, pregnancies and showing off the babies and their toys around, it resulted on a house with four boys and the other with four girls. 

For informational purposes; the Hollands were composed of Dominic and Nikki, Tom (21), Sam and Harry (18) and Paddy (13); while the Hodges were Luke and Viola, you (19, but almost 20), Morgan (17), Danny (14) and Stella (10); but the confusion was too big even for you, sometimes. 

And the pressure — don’t even get me started. You had to be the greatest in all of your classes because fucking Tom couldn’t be better than you. And it wasn’t that Thomas fucking Holland was a bad kid or anything like that, he was actually nice and you had nothing to complain about, but since your and his mother hated each other, you had to keep the profile and break any kind of contact you two had in the past.

“Why do you have to be a part of this fight again?” Eva sat on your bed again, her body sinking into the cocoon of blankets you set there before they came.

“I’m not a part of it” you said, lifting your head and pulling one of your legs closer to your chest. “This is my mother’s business and I’m not putting up with it. I’m just...”

“—Too scared to contradict her.” Dave finished your sentence, throwing himself at your bed and his legs hitting Eva’s back, making the girl let out a small whimper, slapping his thigh. “But don’t even pretend that you like him a lot.”

That was true; you didn’t. You didn’t even know when you started to get annoyed by him or if you were really annoyed by the boy or if it was your mother’s voice inside your head, manipulating you into hating the boy.

You smiled kindly at them and turned around. “Maybe we should go back to the project since I am the only one doing something here.”

But he was right, you were too scared of your mother. God, every one in your family was, because when she was mad, she would turn the tables and make you feel guilty with a great selection of words that would keep you inside your room until the end of times.

So, no, no one dared to contradict her.

“I’m too old for that” Eva rolled her eyes and threw her head on a pillow, dramatically sighing. “I might be dead tomorrow and you are worrying about the damn project.”

“Well, it’s a third of the final grade.” You stated, licking your lips quickly and adjusting the hoodie’s sleeves on your arms. “I’m not getting a B because of you.”

“Nerd” Dave yelled-whispered and you threw a pen at him, laughing while your eyes reached for the small space that the curtains didn’t cover, watching from afar the figure of the boy who smiled at the sight of you, making your stomach feel funny — not the bad way.

[...]

You yawned deeply as your eyes tried to keep open, the sweet smell of pancakes downstairs keeping you away from falling asleep once more, ignoring all the alarms you always set on your phone. You changed from the pajama pants to some comfortable jeans and an old shirt you were fond of, putting on some sneakers and grabbing your stuff to leave quickly.

Climbing downstairs, you walked into the kitchen and found all of your sisters already sitting there and your father cooking some pancakes while your mother finished some work on her laptop. You were greeted by sleepy ‘good mornings’ and helped yourself with a cup of coffee, sitting beside Morgan and drinking it slowly.

“Ugh, I hate those small keyboard keys” your mother muttered to herself while downing a big gulp of her coffee. 

“Don’t mind your mother, girls” your father said, turning around quickly and smiling politely. “She’s had a bad night.”

“It’s not my fault” she glared at her husband and rolled her eyes, completely annoyed. “I couldn’t sleep because one of the Devil’s spawns let their music too loud last night.”

You furrowed your brows while your father put some pancakes on your plate, grabbing syrup to cover them.

“Devil’s spawns?” Questioned Danny, twitching her mouth.

“Her new nickname to Nikki’s sons” your father explained and rolled his own eyes.

You laughed to yourself, already aware of their rivalry and how your father wasn’t so into the battle as your mother was. Actually, when you were younger, your father told you about how he used to be friends with Dominic a long time ago, ending their friendship because of their wives. What a waste.

“Anyways” your mother closed her laptop and looked at you with demanding eyes, making the pancakes going down your throat seem stuck there. “(Y/N), could you take your sisters to school before class?”

Coughing on your coffee, you put the mug on the surface of the table and looked around, watching as your sisters seemed to mind their own business, so you just nodded while cutting another piece of the pancakes, your stomach humming quietly, but noticeable.

“Sure” you smiled and ate your last bite before standing up. “I’ll just brush my teeth and then we’ll be out.”

The girls nodded and your mother adjusted her pantsuit, straitening the edges before smiling to herself and grabbing her stuff. She was a journalist and worked in the cooking section, always talking about food and nutrition, so she mostly worked from home, but sometimes, she had to go to these meetings and keep her name and works clean.

Don’t even get me started on her key lime pie, because oh, you wouldn’t believe the taste of that! And, of course, she and Nikki would compete who made the best pie.

“Will I see you later, darling?” Asked your father, looking straight at you and you smiled shyly. 

Your father, on other hand, had a small market around the corner and worked with all of his heart and passion on it. Sometimes, you would join him to help with some stuff, since some of his employees quit and he could use extra help. You liked doing that, so it wasn’t such a burden.

“Of course.”

Quickly, you brushed your teeth and grabbed your phone and car keys to leave already, only waiting for your sisters to come and entering the car when they were all ready.

Opening the garage door, you moved the car back and let out a small sigh, looking at the mirror as you did so. But when you saw it, it was too late; your nails were deep into the steering wheel and your sisters screamed loud, causing Stella to cry in desperation. You felt your heart starting to thump faster and turned around, looking at the girls.

“Stay here” you said.

It was a small collision, but still a collision that could have done damage to your car — the one you loved so much — so you jumped down of it and walked at the back, looking around and seeing the silver Audi with a small scratch, and so did your own car (luckily).

The owner showed his face while climbing down of the Audi, the brown curls falling against his forehead just slightly since the rest of his hair was pushed back. You crossed your arms and gazed at him, waiting for something to be said before you lost your temper.

“Oh, shit” he said, removing his sunglasses and giving your eyes access to his hazelnut ones as he crouched down behind your car. “I’m so sorry!”

He looked up to find you already staring and you bit your lower lip, twitching your nose.

“I hope so” you said, furrowing your brows. “My sisters are there, you could’ve hurt them.”

You already felt that he was being genuine about his apology, but you were too infuriated to control your choice of words (and you already had the ability to destroy a person with them). 

“I’m really sorry” he licked his lips and stood, walking in your direction and stopping only a few inches in front of you.

God, does he know anything about personal space?

You looked a bit up to find his freckled nose right in front of you, making you cross eyes for a little more. Redness staying to spread all over your cheeks and you looked down, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of making you blush.

“Yeah.” You said quietly, almost in a mutter.

Looking up again, you found his eyes still invading your personal space. His arm twitched a bit, as if he wanted to touch you, but he hesitated and looked away; and you could swear that you had a déjà-vu that moment, almost smelling the humid grass from the park and hearing the leaves of the big old tree above you, but you shut down that thought, going back to reality, the one where you stood in front of that guy — the same one from the tree — but looking like a stranger.

“Do you—” he started to say, and you wanted to hear, but your mother rushed from the entrance door and to the street, her eyes full of anger and worry.

“What the—” she looked around and her eyes found Tom’s, not making the situation any better. “You!”

She stormed at his direction and you knew that a hurricane was coming, so you held your breath and closed your eyes quickly. Then, another voice appeared and you felt even more frighted. 

“Don’t even try to blame it on my son!” Screamed Nikki as she walked down the front yard, standing in front of your mother and crossing her arms. “It’s not his fault that your daughter doesn’t know how to drive. You better be careful, she could’ve hurt someone!”

“Excuse me?!” You furrowed your brows, but were completely ignored.

You looked at Tom again only to find him rolling his eyes and going back to his car, starting it and preparing to leave, but not before he found your reflection on the mirror and gave you a small smirk.

How dare he?

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Life Story Part 78

The neighbor dad next door liked to drink every night – often in packs of other men just like himself, in the back of his house. Sometimes these nights became violent. We could hear his kids crying, his wife drunkenly screaming for order while causing a fair bit of confusion herself. Once two men fell into our back yard and were grabbling and drunkenly trying to pin one another down in what they must have thought was a high end fight scene in the movie of their sad little lives.

The neighbor dad came over to our house one night and started accusing my brother David of stealing his shitty Coors Light beer. David was not stealing his beer at all of course. There was some other son of one of his friends that was eventually found to be the culprit, but this guy was adamant that it was David, threatening to shoot David if he saw him on his property, as if anyone with any self respect wanted to be seen on his shitty property. He eventually convinced the other men who were just like him in our town that David was coming onto his property to steal his missing beer, his most beloved drink, and they all took to calling David names as they drove by. If we were taking our nightly stroll, men would stumble out of the bar and accuse David of being a thief, and once in awhile they called David a 'dob'. We wondered for years what that might mean. It was all very weird. It seemed like from age thirteen on, other men wanted to fight David. I am not entirely sure why.

David signed up for football. I knew he didn't want to. The only reason he had signed up for football in the first place was because my father had been adamant about it for so many years and David didn't feel like he had the right to say no. It was something deeply personal to my father, some big momentous ordeal that had to be done. I think he felt that David had to live the life that he himself hadn't. He wanted David to become a strong football loving American white man – and not the strange hippie that my father had chosen to be at that same age. He wanted to live those wholesome boring American dream victories vicariously through David, perhaps to stave away the fact that he himself had never left the area he lived in, had two failed marriages, thirty-five failed online relationships, a failed business, a growing reliance on alcohol, and a wasted thirty-five years working at a factory who wanted him gone before he could receive the retirement he deserved.

I knew David didn't want to play sports anymore. Not even boxing really. I was sitting on the computer in the living room one night, as David was sleeping on the couch. David started talking in his sleep. He was panicking in his dream, stating over and over that he didn't want to play football. I looked over alarmed, and he had the look of someone who was drowning. A dream like that speaks volumes. David didn't want to go through with it, but he had already signed up. And it was eating him alive that he was doing this. He wanted to listen to music and collect albums, and read and challenge and critique everything he liked against the world. He had no interest in being brawny or masculine – at least not in the way my father wanted, and he hated everyone far too much to have any ambitions whatsoever. He felt completely outcast, and it happened at a young age all at once. It was harder for him than for me I think. I was born an outsider, and had ambitiously worked my way into a system anyway. I had that humility. David just woke up one day feeling like everything was a lie.

For two weeks David went to practice. His coach was that same foul disgusting man that I remember talking inappropriately about the teenage girls in my class and what he would like to do with them. He had talked about my best friend Ava and her weight. He was a loathsome hideous pretentious sick fucker with a whistle. I don't blame David for hating it. He went to practice for two weeks. They forced the boys to run around the field for a very long time, essentially going for miles or until the boys crumpled, at which point, the football coach would crouch over them and scream in their faces until they pulled themselves up and continued to run. David threw up several times. This didn't in an of itself stop him, but it would have stopped me. And then one day, David quit.

This caused my father to have some kind of meltdown. I remember sitting in the kitchen, and not knowing what had happened. I remember he was grimacing with fury and confusion, and leaning over the kitchen sink and then telling me to leave him alone – as if someone had just died. I thought getting upset because your son isn't going to be a small town football star was exceedingly lame. Later he blamed me almost entirely, as he had started to catch on that I had become a cold undermining force to him. His younger kids listened to me, not him. I guess there had been a fight, and David had said to my dad 'STOP TRYING TO LIVE THROUGH ME!'. Which did sound like a very 'me' thing to say, but it was all David. I think anyone around could see the dynamics for what they were. And if it was me, I feel very little sympathy. David's dream self was telling him not to play football, which to me means serious business. You don't fuck with dream stuff. It knows you in a way you don't. Plus, the world has too many 7th grade football players. It really does.

Of course, I wasn't happy with David either, but for different reasons. He went from being a sweet considerate person to being malicious towards Allison and I. It was getting harder to deal with, and I was trying not to hate him, but that resolve was breaking. I just couldn't go between two different realities, my brother as one of my best friends and my brother as someone who wanted to really hurt me. We ended up going up to my grandmother's house in my mother's van. My grandma was trying to get rid of her possessions. She had collected a lot over the years in her line of business. She couldn't sell things on eBay they way she used to. She was tired of packaging and shipping books. Plus, some weird asshole priest in town had taken it upon himself to see that the St. Vincent de Paul shut down – somehow in the complexity of the tax world this was going to financially benefit him personally. And that left my grandma out of work. So she was giving a lot of it away to my mother, who is almost a hoarder.

We drove up there, and a lot of it was work we couldn't really do. My uncle who remodels homes for a living, was also up there at my grandma's, remodeling a part of my grandma's house. It was kind of strange to see that room go. It was a special room full of crafts and beads. Different little tiny shelves went up to the ceiling, each one had a different kind of item inside. As a child I had been mesmerized and wanted to get into everything. He changed that room into something far more spacious – it's a better room ultimately, but for nostalgia reasons I will always miss the old room.

During our three or four day visit, we would sleep on the floor, and wake up early in the morning to the sun beaming down on us and to the snotty little noses of the Yorkies who excitedly sniffed us and licked our faces. On the second to last day of our visit, our uncle Rick wanted to take us rafting down the small river close to where my grandma lived. I was skeptical, as our last rafting trip had been pretty terrible with our father, but given that Rick had all the proper equipment and boats for all of us to use, and the fact that the water was manageably shallow – it wasn't some major north American river, just a forgettable small one, I eventually felt more optimistic.

My uncle Rick is an alcoholic/workaholic. He never had children, and he once told me this was intentional, as his alcoholism would destroy his kid's childhoods the way that my mother and her brother's childhood had been ruined by their own father. I don't particularly think my uncle Rick is all that great, but for some reason this answer was one of the most socially responsible and respectable answers I had ever heard come from someone in my family. It made sound sense to me.

Rick would work very rough jobs that gave him a lot of money and that took up most of his time. He was very anal about his work, and if you were trying to help him but weren't, he would shoo you away in a hostile fashion. After a job well done he would take that money and buy alcohol with it, get into insane fights, wreck his cars and get massive DUI's which cost him just about all the money he could have ever saved from the job he was doing, which would intern require of him to work even harder – causing him to stress and feel like drinking, and when he drank his life would fall apart rapidly and it all would happen over and over again. He will die an alcoholic. He even used to run his own AA meetings back in the 90's when he had a few years under his belt of sobriety – so he knows full and well what he is doing.

For some reason my uncle Rick reminds me intensely of my mother and father mixed together. It's uncanny and weird. He's not related to my father of course, whom I am sure sees nothing of himself in any member of his ex wife's family. But it's true. They are similar. And the differences are made up with the similarities he has with my mom – his sister. It's truly weird to me. The only addition to the mix is that he's a worse alcoholic than either of them. For this reason, I see him as a sort of parent to me, though I have never told him this, as it's a half handed compliment. Not that we are super close, but he's the complete hybrid of those two people who brought me into the world for whatever reason. And he's probably right, if he had kids he would ruin their lives. But since he didn't bring me into the world, I don't really have to hate him.

We ended up going on this rafting trip which was a lot of fun. Allison and I shared our boat. My uncle Rick and David shared another, and my mom was given her own. My mother didn't heed his warning that you should avoid the rocky shallow parts, since the rocks will eventually find a way to break a hole in your inner tube boat, and she felt sheepish and had to get in one of our boats when her boat collapsed. It all worked out though. It was a fifteen mile stretch of a shallow river/large creek (I don't know which). It was a perfect temperature. It was relaxing, and beautiful. All around us we saw fish in the clear water, and deer. I put it down as one of my more cherished wholesome memories – unconnected to anything sinister or complex. Just me out in the water. It is weird at moments of simple clarity and softness in living that I wondered about how I had stayed up all night contemplating suicide from a academic standpoint, or trying to make sense of human nature in my thought so it could be corrected. It was rare that I ever just had a day like that.

David ended up throwing this massive hateful tantrum towards me. He freaked out over a game of monopoly, and I don't remember what happened from there, but he was acting really rude and mean towards us. My blood pressure was up. I wanted to slam him in the face, but that wasn't something I was going to do now. I didn't want to do that ever again actually. So I kept my calm. I also could tell that he was trying to upset me and Allison. He wanted to see tears, and he was going at any length to get those tears. I was eventually made so mad I was afraid to speak, afraid to give him the satisfaction of upsetting me. I just pretended that he wasn't getting to me. Actually, it was really hurting me. It was disappointing me and making me feel horrible, and I didn't even know how to comprehend it. Eventually, as we were packing the van on the last day he caused some kind of chaotic issue with Allison and refused to pack this van. It wasn't a matter of packing your average van. It was like, two hours of work. And he just refused to help. My mother's back was out, and David said he would scream if Allison went out there – so my mother relented and sent Allison inside. If David had instead decided on going inside, seeing as he refused to be of service, this would have made it easier for Allison to come out and help, but he was intentionally setting it up so that I had to pack the van by myself.

My grandma watched, and I could tell she was frustrated. David had a way of using domestic terrorism to get his way. Everyone was afraid of him when he turned into this person. All the same, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of frustration or tears. So for three hours, I worked up a huge sweat, my muscles tingling as I packed all of my mother's hoarder stuff into the van box by box, bag by bag, furniture piece by furniture piece. On the way back, Allison and David lived buried in stuff. They had only a little bit of breathing room. They must have resented the fact that I always got to sit in front, account of the fact that I was bigger than them, and the fact that I have always suffered extreme car sickness, making it inevitable I would be put up front anyway.

I packed the van, and while I did it David would glare at me and laugh at me and stick his face out at me like I should punch him. He sat there intentionally looking at me working, getting some weird satisfaction from sitting and doing nothing. Of course, maybe this was some kind of punishment for how I had babysat when I was thirteen years old. But I was twenty-one now! If we are all to suffer the consequences at the age of twenty-one, eight years after the fact, the god help us all. I was infuriated, but I somehow learned to use that fury and turn it into one psychotic grimacing smile. I held back, and when I finally had a half of a house worth shoved into the back of the van, I ran to the back room of my grandma's house, flopped face first into the blankets where my mother had slept on the floor, and just extruded this agonized fury in silence. I opened my mouth and nothing came out – only some black evil smoke that I had been holding in for several hours as I whistled past David. I closed my eyes and vividly imagined popping someone's eyes out of their sockets, clawing away at skin, snapping off fingers and toes. I had somehow held into this rage that was almost too much for me to bear. I felt shaky and weak and disoriented. And something emotionally strained in me broke. I loved David, but I didn't see him as my friend anymore. He was an enemy. He was old enough to know he was ruining the relationships he had with everyone around him and he didn't care. I had rarely if ever felt so hurt and frustrated as I had then. I could hear my mother's pampering voice in the kitchen, trying to appease him. I realized that ultimately, Allison and I were going to have to work around him, just like we worked around our parents. He was toxic. I hadn't let go of him as my brother. But I sort of knew from then on that things were going to go south for us. It had already started, and there was no way for me to reverse it.

At around this very same time, a totally bizarre situation happened, and it changed our family's dynamic forever. My dad had started occasionally visiting the local bars both in Kendrick and Juliaetta, a small town not far from there. He had met this young woman, this very young woman – only two or three years older than me. My father had just turned sixty. He didn't look that old – he still looked like he was in his late forties, but he was indeed  sixty. It's not illegal, and I am not in the business of judging what two consenting adults do, but I really don't see a twenty three year old woman and a sixty year old man have in common. They had literally nothing in common. They had no shared interests or experiences. They didn't even really know how to talk to one another. She seemed confused and unstable. She had two kids, and a sad story and she needed a place to stay. I don't know if my father honestly deluded himself into thinking that he was going to be some kind of hero in a nonromantic way towards her, or if he had it in mind all along. He will always point to the woman and say it was her who initiated the relationship.

It started out he just gave her some money to help her out. He told me about it, chuckled nervously and assured me they weren't going to be in a relationship. And then she was calling him and soon they were suddenly an item. It all happened literally within a week. I remember the day it happened, and it was so strange. I had spent the day out in Lewiston with Sarah. We had listened to the Tom Waits record 'Heartattack and Vine' and Mr. Seigel had played. I ended up getting Mr. Seigel stuck in my head over and over again. And somehow I knew like, reality had shifted. Something had cracked to pieces and things were going to begin shifting all around me relatively rapidly. I didn't associate it with anything, I just knew everything was wrong, but it wasn't the kind of wrong you cry about or try to understand. It's the kind of wrong that has pushed the wheel towards sheer absurdism. You laugh in self defense because nothing makes any fucking sense anymore. Down is up. Something in the back of my head just tingled.

So I went in, and my father said that Crystal was going to be living in our house now with her two little boys, and she was suddenly just going to be the wife I guess? It was very weird. This woman was my age. Her father had sexually abused her, and she could never stop talking about it. It was very tragic. She was obsessed with older men who played some kind of role that her father had played. She literally talked about her father every single night. I don't really feel like this was wrong per say, but like, shame on my fucking dad. This in a way went beyond anything he had ever managed to do. It didn't even really effect me that badly. I just looked at this strange sister-mom and felt bad for her and thought my dad was a disturbed fucking idiot for bringing her in the house. I knew then and there too that he would never learn. Because he always was some kind of expert at the end of each failed relationship, and he always went on and on about how they were bad and he was good and he had learned his lesson. He imparted all kinds of confusing and harmful and clueless rhetoric. But never had I thought he would date someone this young, someone so obviously dealing with mental illness – someone who was literally looking for an old man to take her father's place in some horrible abusive scenario she kept reliving every day of her life. I remember just coming in the house and starting at my father straight in the face and shaking my head. He couldn't even go against me for that.

At the same time, he was in some kind of existential crisis because David had quit football. He had only now decided to see David's behavior as some kind of problem, conveniently when he wanted to punish David for something entirely stupid. David was staying up later than normal, which is totally normal for thirteen year olds. Furthermore, my father sometimes kept us up till midnight, so he was also just as guilty of letting us stay up late on school nights. But my father had his douchebag pants on I guess, and when he was in the upstairs hallway, he looked into David's bedroom and saw that David was awake. He started shouting at David to go to FUCKING BED!!!!! like a lunatic, and then David gave him some attitude, and My father lunged at David, grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall and punched him in the face and accused him of being a 'faggot homosexual'. Then he kicked David out.

I only found out later on, once David's side of the story came to light. My father was very vague about the entire thing. I later found out the reason that he kicked David out was in part because Crystal thought David was 'weird'. My father was so insecure and was so embarrassed to have a nonfootball playing son who some local hillbilly woman-child of low intellect that he barely knew for two weeks had thought his own son, whom he had spent his entire life raising – and though indeed flawed, didn't deserve to be kicked out or abandoned or abused by his father for the very personal choice of choosing not to partake in school sports was worth throwing away on behalf of. I looked at this entire situation with absolute disgust. Despite my issues with David, he really did get fucked over. And if you haven't learned better by the age of sixty, you will never ever learn. You will forever be that hopeless.

I had actually been secretly planning to send Allison to live with our mother up till the point where David got there first. Between my father and brother, Allison's life was getting pretty shitty. I wanted her to experience a new school, to maybe find opportunities somewhere else. I knew the ship was sinking. Crystal was not the cause of it, she was just an indication. I didn't hate her at all. It was weird because we were both so close in age, I would invite her to take walks with us at night, and she would generally talk about her abusive childhood, drifting between idealizing how great it all way, and feeling abused and empty. I just listened to her. Her sons were totally unruly, but I learned to appreciate them as well for what they were. I knew Crystal couldn't help what she was doing really. She had little to no experience outside of bars and living in the middle of nowhere with old cowboys. She had never visited a big city before. She told me that she thought that the horror movie, The Ring was real. She thought all horror movies were real because she couldn't fathom that anyone could think something like that with their own imaginations.

The family unit was combusting. I knew I would be fine because wherever I went, Sarah and Allison were still my family. I suddenly found myself certain I would be getting out of there. Whenever I was feeling unsure of myself, I realized that I almost didn't have a choice, and Sarah was pushing me along and helping me so much. Compared to me, she seemed so organized and sociable and competent. As for David, what could I say? It's not that I didn't love David or worry about him. I wanted to beat my father's brains out for hurting him. But he really was on his own because every time I tried to get close he attacked me or Allison and it got to where saw him as a threat, though not as an enemy. There was nothing further I could do for him. I was really sorry because I knew that we were at this pivotal point where, the things that were going to happen in the coming year or so were going to effect and ripple throughout the rest of his life. The decisions he made now was going to shape his future in a way that was going to cause him to struggle horribly when he got older and realized the consequences of it all.

When David lived at my mother's I only got tidbits of their altercations. Eventually David shoved my mother, but then again, maybe it was my mother that shoved David? I couldn't tell the truth. Because my mother was having some kind of crisis, and so was David and they were both at each other's throats. And then, my mom started telling me that she had called the cops on David. David denied this ever happened. I know that it did a few times because I remember him saying so himself. But then again, my mother really could be lying. Talking about it now with anyone is hard because everyone's memory is warped by intense emotions. I knew the  both of them to be half crazy. I also know my mom – if she finds out someone wants to hit her she does everything in her power to make them hit her. I remember once fighting with her and she started screaming with this big wicked smile on her face 'HIT ME!!! HIT ME!!!' and I just looked at her with confusion and disgust. Like she was putting her cheek out at me, and it was beyond stupid. She wanted to get the satisfaction of believing herself to be a victim. It's my mom's thing. She's always a victim. I just looked at her and said 'What the hell? I am not going to hit my own mother.' I felt bad if I even cussed at her, even when she full out deserved it. It's just not in my nature to get in the hog pin with my mom. It's debasing and unclassy and ultimately giving into this notion that my life was and forever would be so small, that conquering her pathetic self with an arrogant and mindless jab in the face in our dirty ass kitchen  was the most I could ever hope for. I just had to keep my eye above them all. My revenge would be my freedom from it someday. I had to look to the great big beautiful and mysterious world I lived in and not into the abysmal eyeballs of these maniacs that I called family. I wanted to transcend them, not give into their awful ways.

David stopped going to school. A lot of it was my mother's fault. She didn't really care at first – probably didn't get him where he needed to be because she couldn't understand that you need to keep your kids in school. But then it became a legal issue, and David still refused to go to school and they had fights about it. He wasn't old enough to be making this decision for himself, and yet he was because nobody was in his life to create any kind of stability for him. My dad had thrown him by the wayside for Crystal's minor convenience. My mother was a selfish and distracted chaos queen. He was too young to even realize the consequences of not going to school. But on the other hand, how can I really blame David? I myself stayed in school only because I am thirty percent more afraid of authority than David was, and I had friends and romantic interests that kept me curious about my school life. I barely hung on by a thread, and if I hadn't had those things I might have stopped going altogether as well. David didn't have those minor favors that I did. And at his very same age, I only went to school half the time as it was. I just did it differently, and I went to a school that nobody in a position of state power was going to step in and force me to go to. Idaho is one of the most ungoverned states. You wouldn't believe the kinds of things people get away from outside of the major cities.

At around this same time, my sister Roxanne and her husband Jeremy split up. It was a long time coming, too long a time. Jeremy had become more and more violent and abusive each passing day. He raped Roxanne. He was selling drugs, and he was prepping Sagen, Roxanne's daughter to molest her. At one point, shortly before Roxanne had reached this point with him where she couldn't handle it anymore, her second youngest daughter Hayley, who was only six at the time woke up from a night terror and Jeremy ran in there, grabbed her off the ground by her hair mid sleep, and shoved her against the wall violently. All for having cried out loud in her sleep – which woke him up. The guy deserved to be dead in my book. I couldn't visit there anymore because Jeremy was such a horrible person I couldn't hold it in anymore. My mother had called CPS on Roxanne with my strong eager encouragement, and she had lost her three children she had with her ex, Jody. Jody was also awful, but not a cruel and sadistic monster like Jeremy. I mean, I would cross the street to avoid him for sure, but I wouldn't wish death on him. Sagen Roxanne kept, since Sagen was older and had more say in where she went, and Roxanne's youngest little girl, Meliah she kept as well. Meliah was temporarily kept with Jeremy's sister, who was strangely normal compared to her folks.

It all ended I guess when Jeremy, whilst high on meth, held a knife to Roxanne's neck and threatened to kill her, as he believed she was stealing his drugs. He held her hostage, and eventually one of his friends had to tackle him down to get Roxanne free. So Roxanne finally told him to leave. And at first, we were all relieved. She had been with Jeremy for nearly six years, and every time I thought about what Roxanne and Jeremy were both putting those kids through, whenever I tried to contemplate what Roxanne was going through I felt this sick jab in my chest. It was strange to see how Roxanne had evolved from the hyperactive little girl she had been into this adult. I loved Roxanne a great deal. I believe her bright personality is part of the reason I get excited and feel up for anything. And of course I liked her. But given the damage she was doing and had done to her children at the behest of a man, it was hard to feel like I could warm up to her. So we all thought that Jeremy was the key element in her life, and if he was gone everything would get better. It's not what happened.

Jeremy had kept Roxanne on drugs, but he had always been the master of the drugs and he chose how much she used and how often – in order to keep her competent enough to take care of the chores and the kids. With him gone, Roxanne was able to use all the meth and pills she wanted without him controlling her doses. And then she and Sagen started using together. It was crushing to hear about. Sagen had literally won an award at her school, hand signed by Barack Obama for her gifted intelligence and her excellence as a student. People had seen her as some future lawmaker or someone of great future thinker. Her principal cared about her on a very personal level. So when Roxanne got her own twelve year old daughter on meth with her, we were all besides ourselves. I couldn't believe it. And then soon Sagen just stopped going to school altogether. The state tried to tie her down. They tried to give her to her father, but she ran away. Sagen's father had molested her, and had very little to do with her life, and she hated him. She stole from him and fled. When she ran away, Sagen's father had the audacity to write the Dr. Phil show and told Dr. Phil about Sagen's behavior, and the show actually offered to fly her over with her parents and have it out on the show, which Sagen refused. It was so crazy. Like, I can imagine how absurd it would have looked. Sagen would have randomly called her father out as a molester, and Dr. Phil would have tried to throw her in some kind of boot camp or rehab or something in between. This is just how far my family's madness had gone. Dr. Phil wanted us on his show! I mean, not me obviously as my problems largely manifested themselves internally in a way that would not make for that great of entertainment. But that general anxiety and dysfunction permeated pretty much throughout everyone in our family.

To bring this down to the more mundane, and to mention something before I forget. All that summer, and well into the fall, Allison and David owned rabbits. They joined some kind of FFA rabbit club, that was run by this really creepy dude named Frank that lived at the end of town. Frank had always been this guy on Halloween that dressed in a gorilla suit, all four hundred pounds of him, and chased kids. He chased me when I was five, and it almost scared me to the point where I had to stop trick or treating. I imagine this might have bent my bias against him. He was well known to walk about town until he found someone to talk their ear off, and he thought of himself as an inventor, though he never invented anything.

Allison started talking to his son Wayne, this very heavy kid in her class who was always cruel to due to his weight and I was always prodding her to be nice to him. I had watched him once when he was five in the store. He was always a very outgoing and nerdy boy, and had always been fat. He came up to some girls who were my age to show them some toys he liked. He was absolutely innocent and adorable, and they had pretty much called him names and were incredibly cruel towards him. I remember seeing the look of hurt on his face, and when Allison was in his class, I always urged her to go against the grain and be nice to him. From a very early age, he learned that he wasn't equal to anyone else, and it was massively fucked up. He never was a very good friend to Allison however. He was guarded and kind of crazy. I mean, he wasn't awful – just kind of know-it-allish, and it turned out he was obsessed with Stalin and dictators and most definitely voted for Donald Trump in the last election, and that was really weird.

Allison got this Dutch lop. He was a soft and adorable. If you turned him on his back and cradled him like a baby he would close his eyes. Rabbits are very simple creatures though. I loved him, but we never could do much with him, and it felt weird to keep him locked in a cage his whole life. It's not the way rabbits should live. We also had to make sure he ate the right stuff. My father ended up feeding him some bulb plants at first and it nearly killed him. And it turned out being gay. It never would mate with other rabbits, and got frenzied with disturbing rabbit lust and slobbered sexually whenever it was around other males. He was normally a very soft cuddly creature, but when Allison took him to the fair that year, he hopped across the table and began attempting to forcefully mate with the other rabbits, and it became this huge fiasco at the local fair that nobody will ever forget. David ended up getting this English lop, which are huge, and have the big ears. At first the English lop was really cute, but he soon became vicious. He would attack you if you got near him. He was hard to feed, and he would look at you and bite the cage with his teeth. We ended up having to give him back.

Allison and David eventually left the Rabbit Club. Frank was getting really weird for the both of them. David's rabbit went mad being caged up and full of hormones, so he gave the rabbit back and left the club. I think Frank ate that poor boy. David just remembers staring at Frank as he was conducting a meeting, and Frank had this insane smile on his face. One of his toes was infected and green and there were flies eating away at it. David looked up at Frank, who know that David had been looking at his toe, and he smiled into David's eyes – sort like 'see?' Which was a very disturbing for David. He imagined that Frank was perhaps secretly feeding the flies on purpose or something, and liked the flies eating the infection of his toe. They were literally covering the wound.

Allison's rabbit we found a home for with one of my father's girlfriends. She had a big space for the fuzzy guy, and as far as I know he lived a happy life – considering. Allison left too because Frank and his wife wouldn't stop trying to force Allison to date Wayne, and that got very strange for everyone. Frank was so forward about it, he would talk as though Allison and Wayne were going to keep up his legacy together, and one time accused Allison and Wayne of 'humping in the back of the pick up as Wayne's parents drove' something foul and crude and it just made everyone really uncomfortable. Frank was very good at being just the most uncomfortable person. He always said the most disturbing things. His house was filthy and he kept his rabbits in inhumane conditions. The inside was filled with the filth of rabbit, and they never did the dishes. Allison just didn't want to go there anymore.

On the upside, David caught a kitten around Wes's house, the guy my mother took care of for a living. I haven't mentioned it a lot, but all three of us, me, Allison and David spent a lot of our time at Wes's for those years – mostly going with our mom and leaving with her after her work was done for the evening. It was sort of boring – the walls were stained with nicotine, there were always old westerns playing on television, occasionally some gross old perverted man would stop by for a visit. But Wes was kind of a member of our family. And he bought us things. He wasn't shouting that my mother marry him or any of that disturbing stuff anymore. He paid my mom's bills though, which was kind of weird. It really amazes me just how often my mother has gotten other people to pay her bills. She works hard, but spends hard and often is low on money, but she always found a way. Wes's was ultimately a lot nicer than staying at our mom's for the day. Wes in his wheel chair and his scratchy voice, usually getting slight better from some illness that had really taken him down. He would buy us shrimp dinners and give us birthday money and jobs to get paid for outside. After his previous animal companion had been killed by getting ran over, he bought a new dog. Her name was Samantha, and she is by far the most well mannered easy going creature I ever met. She was half Chow, half Newfoundland. She was all black, and there was absolutely nothing that would upset her in anyway. She was very fat because she had a thyroid issue and Wes kept feeding her sandwiches and KFC. We often had to shave her in the summer because it was too hot for her, and she looked like a gray ridiculous potato. Thankfully dogs don't know what they look like – otherwise she might have been a bit embarrassed.

The kitten that David managed to catch was a stray male cat. I asked if I could keep it and my father said yes. I had had a kitten the year before. But that neighbor dad drunk had caught her and sent her to the pound because he didn't want her to grow up and beat his outdoor cat up, Tux, whom he had declawed. Her name had been Frances, and to this day I am slightly furious. I had a collar on her and everything. You can't just go taking people's cats to the pound. Anyway, this new kitten I named Nim, after Nimue from Arthurian Legend. I believe it was Merlin's lover, if my memory serves me well. But then we found out a month later that Nimue was a boy, so I shortened it to Nim. It was nice to have a kitten to take care of.

Nim eventually grew to be very aggressive though. He went wild and ripped into me one day with the intent to kill me. My mother came over to pick up once, and he bit her so hard she needed stitches. He was nobody's favorite cat. And he had pica, which sounds cute but is actually a disease that causes cats to eat stuff they aren't supposed to neurotically. The delight in question was my little sister Allison's sausage curl locks. Never anyone else's hair, only hers. While she slept, he would creep up to her face and begin eating her curly black hair. She would wake up in the night with half of her hair literally wet with his saliva and chew up. It was aggressive and simultaneously like he was nursing I noticed as I watched him in horror a few times. Allison's whole face would be covered in Nim's drool and it smelled. We slept in the same bed, so eventually I stayed up and waited for him to guard her against such intrusions. I would take him and throw him off her, and he would immediately run manically back up to her head and begin chewing aggressively whilst looking me dead in the eye, and I would throw him off. It became a war where I blocked him as he attempted obsessively to get to her hair. Eventually, he sort of gave up, but I had to keep waking up occasionally to make sure he wasn't up to trouble.

PART 77 - https://tinyurl.com/yc8bathg

PART 76 - https://tinyurl.com/y95kx2bo

PART 75 - https://tinyurl.com/y9afl9of

PART 74 - https://tinyurl.com/ydfkomx9

PART 73 - https://tinyurl.com/y6vy2jeu

PART 72 - https://tinyurl.com/yaegqs9x

PART 71 - https://tinyurl.com/y6v3ln9a

My Life Story in Chapters, PARTS 1-70 (this link below will lead you to a list of all the chapters i have written thus far).

http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/168782771574/life-story-sections-1-70

[misomilk]

hi :) is it possible to get an answer for all of the country questions? if no, can i pls get the answer to what you think of translations to eng, your fave song in your native tongue and fave author?

Hello~! You’re so sweet, anon. Thanks for giving me something to do to pass the time while I ignore what I’m supposed to do. LOL

This was so much fun to answer. I hope you pick up things about where I’m from. :) Have an awesome day!!!

1. favourite place in your country? I really love El Nido. It’s super pretty, and not so tourist-filled the last time I went. (That was many, many years ago…) The water is so clear. The critical spots for animals are properly preserved. Gosh. It was perfect. :’) Arashi’s Aiba Masaki had gone there HUEHUEHUE Too bad I went like, a year before he did. A year before I ever found Arashi. XD The beaches of the Philippines are really super lovely.

2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad? I prefer traveling abroad. I pretty much fly to Japan every chance I get. LOL But if I were to travel with family, yes. I’d rather just kick back and relax in one of our beaches. We went to Coron last time! It was beautiful, too. But El Nido remains my favorite.

3. does your country have access to sea? Yes! We see the sea all over. (laughs over XV joke)

4. favourite dish specific for your country? Oh, boy, oh boy. I gotta name three of them.1) Kare-kare - I guess?? It’s our version of curry but it’s so different from any other curry. It’s peanut-based, normally soupy, with boiled vegetables and (typically) ox tongue. I love my mom’s take on it. Very thick sauce and very peanut-y. * W * She uses normal beef parts bec I dont eat ox tongue.2) Lumpiang Shanghai - this is probs taken from Chinese cuisine but still. Very Filipino in its own way. Always see it in parties. I LOVE IT.3) Adobo - The #1 Filipino dish, probs. I think there’s no “XXX tastes Filipino Food” video out there that doesn’t include this. Every household has its own take on it—white or brown, sweet or salty, soupy or not. I LOVE IT A LOT. Brown, sweet, and soupy, please.

For desserts, I fuckin love leche flan, ube (purple yam) and pichi-pichi.

5. favourite song in your native language? I fucking love “Ang Huling El Bimbo” (The Last El Bimbo) by Eraserheads and “Beer” by Itchyworms. They’re my go-to karaoke songs, and are very much #hugot—which is the word we use for when we “pull out all them feels”, normally related to heartbrokenness. I’m not particularly heartbroken atm, but these songs are just so good.Lately, I’ve been hearing the song “Tagu-taguan” (Hide and Seek) by Bita and the Botflies. I hear it on the radio. I love it coz it gives me such Shiina Ringo vibes.

6. most hated song in your native language? probably that fuckin moshi moshi ano ne song. it makes fun of those japanese words :/ and any song by william revillame (an asshole gameshow host) or used in Eat Bulaga. hayyyyy :/

7. three words from your native language that you like the most?1) takipsilim - deep word for ‘sunset’2) bukang liwayway - deep word for ‘sunrise’3) ulap - lit. ‘cloud’bonus: nakakapagpabagabag - lit. ‘worrisome’ bec it felt like a tongue twister when i was younger. hahahabonus2: maharlika - lit. ‘nobility’ just bec it sounds cool hahaha

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom? strangely, though I am Filipino, I get mistaken (by fellow Filipinos) to either be Chinese, Korean or Japanese. I guess it’s in the way I dress?

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best? I know Japan best. For sure. Haahaha. I have no other nearby country that I want to travel to.

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language? ‘pakshet’, which is just ‘fuck shit’ but said tagalog-like? XD

11. favourite native writer/poet? I’m sadly not well-versed in our native prose. See, it’s hard for me to understand my own language sometimes. :’( But I hear Ricky Lee is very good.

12. what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem? Hmm, strange. I haven’t heard of any English translations of our books, actually???? I think it’d be really cool if there were! But I guess Filipino prose/poetry isn’t popular enough to be translated. XD

13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders? I think we have a lot. Like, removing the ring on someone’s finger when you weren’t the one that put it on them means you’ll get in a fight with them. (Personally, I extend it to bracelets. LOL) Or, we can’t take a shower after 3pm on Good Friday bec blood will come out instead of water. xD

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV? No. It has very shallow comedy, or really awful flat storylines. We have really good quality films, but sadly those aren’t the ones that catch attention here. :/

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get? “susmaryosep”, i guess? (Jesus Mary Joseph) Is that considered a saying? Somehow my first thought was: “bababa ba?” (are we going down?) HAHAHA that cracks me up every time it’s used in the elevator when foreigners are around. They get this look like, “… did they really just understand each other?”

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with? I HATE that people assume when we go to other countries it’s either to be prostitutes, caretakers or maids. :/ What do I somewhat agree with……… that we’re cheerful people.

17. are you interested in your country’s history? yes, but idk where to start. I wish I’d listened more carefully back when I was still in high school or college.

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language? No TWT I want to speak Kapampangan, which my sisters and my dad speak. By the time I was born, we already moved to the city, so, I didnt have the chance to learn it.

19. do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem? The flag, yes. The Anthem, tho there are parts that are iffy, yes.

20. which sport is The Sport in your country? Pacquiao’s boxing. specifically Pacquiao’s boxing. -_- I HATE IT. I wish we had more baseball. I’m glad we’ve been getting more into volleybal in the recent years.

21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be? A Filipino treat, like Napoleones or bibingka or ube. And, an abaca fan.

22. what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed? I’m proud of our beaches. They’re seriously so B E A U T I F U L— go north or south. I’m also proud of the Filipino hospitality, although I for one am not so amazing at that bec of my introvert-ness. LOLI’m ashamed of a whole lot of aspects, sadly. Like how a lot are poor, yet we have a fuckton of malls. The government is shit. (Always has been since I can remember.) Many Filipinos are racist, sexist, homophobic bastards that focus on physical wayyy too much. It’s awful. Just. AWFUL.

23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country? San Mig or Red Horse beer, I think. I don’t like those tho.

24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country? Every other nation aside from ours, I think. :/ If there’s one that sticks out more than others, maybe China.

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country? YES. I’D ANSWER YES IN A HEARTBEAT. HAHAHA I’d so love to be born Japanese instead. Their values really resonate with mine. Sometimes my mom, my bosses and my friends say that I’m a Japanese spirit lost in a Filipino body.

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal? We get portrayed as the shitty English speaker who’s a maid.  I can fuckin speak in an awesome accent, thanks v much. In Japan we’re portrayed as hostesses in a bar and it really disheartens me. I don’t like it at all, but what can we do? sighs

27. favourite national celebrity? uhhhhh She’s not my “favorite” bec I’m not into local showbiz, but I really love seeing Liza Soberano. She’s so pretty (/o\)

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites? YES! I guess my favorite would be Taal Lake, since it’s the one I get to see the most. It’s got a volcano in the middle of the lake!!

29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country? uhhh I dont think so

30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family? well, technically my family’s a mix of a whole lot of races: Chinese, Spanish, Japanese. Idk if I have American blood, otherwise I’d have the blood of all our conquerors in my system? XDD

Thanks again for asking!!

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Soldiers

Warnings: ANGST. wee bit of fluff

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Challenge: This was @angelschallenge  ‘s Spring Challenge. My prompt was Polliwog [it’s in bold letters in the text]

Word Count: around 1k

A/N: To be entirely honest to y’all, I don’t really like the ending. feedback is greatly appreciated :D Also really want to thank @impala-dreamer for quickly rushing the editting of this fic in her busy schedule. When I saw the mistakes I made, I was banging my head on my desk so thanks for saing my ass.

There were very few times you had the luxury to act like a child when you were young. Being brought into the hunting life at a very young age and making it your first priority to protect your younger siblings, acting immaturely, having a normal childhood was just out of the question. And your family made damn sure you were aware of that. Every moment you spent as an actual kid and not a soldier in training you owed to Bobby Singer and the Winchester brothers.

Your family were best friends with the one and only John Winchester. When you were born, a total freak accident that was simply not supposed to happen, you entered the hunting life unwillingly, head first. Everything about the life was simply horrific. The blood, the pain, the physical and mental suffering, the traumatic experiences, images, none of it was made for people, never mind a seven-year-old girl with pigtails.

Then you met the two brothers, Sam and Dean, and that shitty reality became a bit more bearable. Because even though life was throwing at you all the shit that she could muster up, you had two people there for you, two wonderful boys you called your best friends. When your two twin siblings were born, not so much of an accident this time, you and the brothers swore to protect them. And by doing so you had to train more and forget your age. You weren’t a child, no. You were a soldier.

Once in a while, ol’ Bobby Singer would take all kids to the park, just to get you in touch with your age, give you a taste of what it’s like. His heart broke at all five of you being ripped of the right to be plain children. Ungrateful, whining, stupid, immature, happy children with toothless grins and unrealistic dreams. He’d let you run off, play baseball with the boys and push your and your little sister’s swings. Occasionally, you and Dean, whom you were closer to than Sammy, ran off to the lake near the park, trying to catch polliwogs and butterflies, giggling and making meatballs and cakes out of dirt, grass and flowers.

You could count those moments on one hand.

You eventually had grown to a powerful, graceful, strong, adventurous, and independent woman. Your 18th birthday soon arrived and you ran off with 21-year-old Dean, in his beloved impala, away for the night. The best night of your lives.

He surprised you earlier in the day by grabbing you mid-training by the waist and spinning you around. You shrieked his name, grinning like a mad fool. He made you change and took you to a grassy field surrounded by trees. He got out of the car, grabbing some beers from the trunk and a blanket, and spreading it on the hood of the car. He jumped on, pulling you with him and to his side.

You had obviously fallen for him; for the green eyed, golden-hearted, amazing person that he was. How could you not? You had known him as long as you could remember and could honestly not see your life without him.

You had leaned against each other, looking up at the sunset and admiring the beauty of it all. When the stars appeared in the sky you started explaining the constellations to Dean. You told him how you and Sam had done all-nighters just studying about them because they were so interesting. You pointed, titled, and talked about the stories behind each one. When you were out of lore, Dean started talking about the childhood memories, the pranks, the laughs, the shits and giggles, the parties, the drinks, the tears, the stories… You talked about everything until it was around 4 in the morning.

You looked up at Dean who stared at you lovingly, pulling you closer and drawing your lips to his. You kissed back, more willing than ever, wanting nothing more than to stay there for eternity.

Needless to say, Dean was your first. At everything. Your first kiss, the guy you lost your virginity to, and most of all, the first, one and only love of your life.

“Here’s to us,” you said, leaning against the cold stone. You placed the bottle of Johnnie on your lips and swallowed a mouthful, feeling the sweet liquor trailing down your throat leaving a soothing burn behind it. You leaned your head back on the silver lettering of the tombstone.

Dean Winchester

1979-2017

It never really stopped hurting. The moment that demonic motherfucker stabbed Dean’s spine and smiled so sickeningly wide, you felt your knees buckle. Of course the bastard is dead. Before he even made it a step further, he was on the ground with an angel blade in his throat. Dean was on his knees, with a hand on his chest, struggling to breathe. Blood was spilling from his mouth and a panicked look was on his face.

“No no no no,” you had cursed, falling to your knees in front of you. You grabbed him from his flannel, looking over his shoulder, to his back, inspecting the wound. It was clean through.

“Hey, hey look at me. Dean! You’ll be fine, Sammy and I will patch you up, you’ll be fine” you pulled him back to look at his beautiful eyes which were now dark and not focusing. “You’ll be fine, stay with me, keep your eyes open, come on.” I cupped one hand on his face, “Dean!” He felt boneless, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and fluttering shut.

You were crying. Of course you were. It had been months but the wound was fresh and all you could do was cry about the lost love of your life. Your dead best friend.

“Y/N?” A voice called out behind you. You didn’t move, watching Sam appear in front of you. “I thought I’d find you here,” he sighed, looking at the grave. You looked down, folding your legs to your chest. Sam took a seat next to you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You glanced at the bottle, passing it on to him. He took a sip and placed his arm around your waist.

“It’s our anniversary,” you whimpered, your eyes brimming with tears.

“I know,” he whispered and tightened his hold on you. “What a great fucking birthday you’re having,” he muttered. You snorted humorlessly, nodding your head in agreement.

“I should’ve done something,” you said. “I should’ve seen the bastard coming, warned Dean, something.” You sniffled, burying your face in his neck and beginning to sob.

“This is in no way on you,” he said, letting you wet his shirt with your tears. He didn’t say anything else. He just let you cry it out, holding you close to him.

As time passed you became calmer, taking comfort in Sam’s embrace, eventually entirely stopping. You were left tired, drained, completely empty. Sam said nothing but got up and stretched his hand out to you. You stared at it and took it, letting him effortlessly pull you up. His hand didn’t leave yours, offering mental support.

“Come on.” He pulled you away from the tombstone. “Let’s go home”

@deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @potato-that-needs-therapy @imagining-supernatural @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @jpadjackles @winchestersnco @deanscolette @deanssweetheart23 @iwantthedean

[gloomybow1]

Jungkook and Tae’s mischievous plan: MAFIA AU

Genre: Smut

Tags: sex talk/ spanking/ bondage/ office sex/ kinky play/ dirty language

MAFIA AU

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

Other characters: Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi

First part: Jungkook: When you catch him masturbating

Second part: Jungkook: When you grind his thigh

Setting: A follow-up to the previous two parts of the story. Takes place some time after the events from the prequels, when your relationship with Jungkook is already developed. 

Characters:

You: The leader of a mafia organisation.

Jeon Jungkook - Master of burglary and a hitman. You were childhood friends but now he works for you. 4 years younger. Doing his best to prove that despite his age, he’s the right man for you.

Being a head of a mafia organisation undeniably has its disadvantages, but there is one huge benefit that makes you love this job. You have always found it amusing and entertaining when money has been flowing into your pocket thanks to a variety of different profit-making ventures and shady deals with questionable individuals. You have always managed to make the money find its way into your wallet without breaking much of a sweat. Heck, you’re just very good at it. The more illegal and immoral the method the easier and more exciting it is for you. No risk no fun, as they say, and yeah, you certainly know how to play that game.

For this reason, recently you’ve been very busy with looking for new ways of generating even more income for your gang. Not that you’re having any problems with the budget... It’s just that the more the better, isn’t it? Bearing that in mind, you’ve been having your eyes on some big fish in the city. Initially, you somewhat hoped that Yoongi could make use of his insane hacking skills, and simply steal the passwords of their bank accounts but, much to your dismay, he failed miserably. Despite his impressive experience in doing works like that nothing much came out of it. Turns out that their security systems are just too damn good even for him.

Due to these unfortunate circumstances, you’re now sitting with Yoongi in your office. He’s been trying to complete his task but, unfortunately without much success. He is visibly annoyed and frustrated. It becomes apparent that you will not lay your hands on their money all that easily. It is getting late already and both of you are too tired to go on...

Y: Mmmmkay, let’s call it a day, Suga.

S: No fucking way. I told you I could do it and I will.

Y: Oh, common. We both know you’re not getting that money for me anytime soon.

A sly smirk creeping over your face. Finally, your overconfident friend and right-hand man, Min Yoongi, hit a dead spot. It is the first time in the history of your cooperation that he hasn’t been able to carry out your order.

S: Shut the fuck up, will you? I can’t focus.

He spits out, knowing all too well that he should admit defeat.

T: Oooooh... Touchy.

Mocking words come out of Taehyung’s amused face. He’s getting all too comfortable sitting in your chair, stretching his legs on the desk while squeezing a pink anti-stress ball in his slender hand.

J: Somebody should teach you how to address your boss, hyung.

Jungkook remarks, stretching on the sofa. A loud yawn escapes his pretty mouth.

J: Oi, Tae Tae! Maybe you should borrow him that ball? Suga hyung is visibly tensed!

S: How about you both cut that shit already?! All you can do is sit on your asses and shit talk. If you’re so clever why don’t you get that money by yourselves?!

Suddenly, the aura around Tae changes. He is now sitting on the chair. Eyes sparkling with obvious excitement.

T: Damn sure we will, hyung! Am I not right, Kooks?

Jungkook isn’t certain at all but, knowing Tae, he must be already devising a plan in his pretty head. 

Jungkook’s clueless expression reveals hisdoubtful thoughts.

J: Will we, Tae?... Like, really?

Too long silence follows his unanswered question. Two boys are gazing at each other and then, Tae stands up from his chair and briskly moves in your direction.

T: Y/N, baby, let me take care of it. That is, me and Kooks. We will get that money for you, I swear!

Suga laughs out mockingly, holding his belly. Tears are forming in his eyes.

S: How would you two even plan to do that? That was a good one Tae, you got me...

He nods his head in approval still laughing. T: I’ll make you choke on that words, hyung.

S: I'm waiting in anticipation.

And then Tae looks deeply into your eyes, taking your hands into his.

T: Will you trust me, boss? I’ll give you what you need... I promise.

He is so close that you are getting nervous, his eyes gleaming with hope and eagerness. You swallow hard...

J: Wow he’s so good...

Jungkook mumbles to himself, watching him attentively. He tilts his head to get a better view of Tae’s face, making mental notes for future reference... These two damn tricksters.

Being utterly lost in Taehyung’s eyes, you only manage to deliver a silent nod.

Y: Yeah, whatever... Just do your job.

Suga growls angrily

S: No fucking way! Will you let these two clowns do as they please? Have you lost your mind?

Yoongi continues rambling like that but you no longer listen to his outburst of anger. You are too pissed off to put up with this kind of behaviour. Besides, you know pretty damn well why he is so reluctant to call it quits. It’s not only about his pride. It’s not only because he is just a stubborn little ass. There is something more to his persistence, and it is very much connected to your sister, Lulu.

Y: Oh, shut your trap Suga, will you?!  All you care about is that stupid bet with Lulu. You’re more concerned with losing than actually not giving me the money.

Obviously, Taehyung wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t use this little exchange of arguments to his own advantage. He cuts in with a disappointed look on his face.

T: I knew right away that he wouldn’t win. They’re like children with Lulu... Fooling around instead of doing their job. Can’t you just tell her you like her, hyung? 

He shakes head disapprovingly so as to spice up this dramatic and fake act. You quickly glance at Yoongi. He looks as if he was about to explode after hearing that. Out of a sudden, he springs to his feet. It doesn’t look all too well so you do the same, positioning yourself between Suga and Tae.

Y: Enough.

It might sound a bit too harsh, but the boys immediately realise that they have reached an invisible boundary. It’s precisely the time to stop getting under your skin and simply listen to your orders. No more talking and pissing you off for today.

Y: You have three days. When you’re done with the plan come and report.

Taehyung grins widely, being obviously very proud of himself.

T: Splendid! .

On your way out of the office, you catch a glimpse of Jungkook. He’s sitting there a bit terrified and dumbfounded at the same time. His signature shocked face making you smile a little.

Two days later

You’ve been sleeping peacefully in your bed when a phone wakes you up. You glance at the phone screen and see that it’s Taehyung. He calls you to announce that their plan is almost done, but they will need you in order to carry it out. 

Lazily, you crawl out of bed and start preparing yourself for another long day at work. Some time later, you arrive at the headquarters and head straight to the conference room, just as you were instructed by Taehyung.

The moment you open the door your feet refuse to move any further. Eyes quickly scanning the room. You’ve counted as many as four women sitting at a round table with their eyes glued to Jungkook and Taehyung. Two said man are standing in front of the ladies, all dressed up in suits and ties. Behind them, there are several pieces of art neatly spread out on the ground and propped against the wall. From what you have managed to register, though, nothing major or readily recognisable to your critical eye. In fact, you cannot get rid of an impression that they are pretty shitty... Nonetheless, what is certainly worth admiring, are these two elegant boys, looking all fly and hot. Not surprisingly, you’re standing there staring at them, just like these women. Moments later, Tae’s deep voice brings you back to reality.

T: There you are, Ms Y/N. We’ve been waiting for you.

Confident smile beaming in your direction. You are completely taken aback and so are the rest of the ladies. Apparently, they haven’t even noticed your presence in the room but, seeing as you are nothing interesting, once again their attention shifts to these two handsome boys.

At this very moment, your gaze lingers on Jungkook who is slowly approaching you. Oh so smug... Hair brushed to the side, a hand in his pocket, and that promiscuous smile that makes your heart skip a bit. With every step, he is getting closer and closer. If you only could you would turn around and run away from this room but you are very well aware that you can’t give him this satisfaction. You can’t make it that obvious. Truth to be told, doesn’t he already know that you are a putty in his hands? Whom are you trying to fool, girl? Suddenly, he is inches from you, placing a hand on your lower back and gently pushing you in the direction of the chair.

J: Please, have a seat. The presentation has already begun.

The situation seems to be a bit too odd for your liking but you decide that it will be best to disregard these sceptical thoughts for a while. You comply and let Jungkook lead you. He moves the chair away from the table, trailing his hand down your back. Before going away he makes sure that you sit comfortably and then, one last time, he playfully brushes your shoulder with his fingers while slowly proceeding to Tae.

T: Very well. Now, that we are all gathered here, we can quickly move on to the presentation of our valuable pieces. My friend, will you take charge?

Taehyung`s sweet words do wonders to the gathered public. All of the ladies absolutely hypnotised, sitting there as if they were spellbound. You can’t believe your own eyes when you see their reaction once Jungkook’s clear voice echoes in the room. There is a sharp intake of breath, and you could swear that some of these women simply forgot how to breathe for a couple of seconds when he opened his pretty mouth. It is as if they were afraid that their breathing could muffle the sweet sounds coming from this handsome boy. 

J: Thank you very much, huyng. It’s an honour for me to be able to present our collection of these extremely beautiful pieces to our guests.

A pause followed by an innocent smile.

J: I’m sure all of you ladies will be as infatuated with the pure elegance and artistry of these paintings as I was when I first saw them.

He takes a deep breath and then continues with a stern expression on his face. Voice cracking due to the intensity of his speech.

J: It’s extremely painful for us to part with these beautiful pieces but... There’s nothing to be done. Due to very inconvenient circumstances, we no longer can stay in possession of these wonders.

He frowns his forehead and scans the room with eyes full of hope.

J: Only you can put our mind at ease and properly take care of our collection, without letting it get into the hands of some abominable people... That would be heartbreaking... I dread to fear of such possibility!

The Ladies are now visibly distressed, probably dreaming only of taking that innocent and suffering pretty boy into their arms...You’re sitting there and thinking to yourself. “For fuck`s sake, these paintings are total crap...” Thoughts are flowing in your head. Their plan to cheat these silly women is as clear to you as a day now. You are observing Jungkook and Taehyung all the time. You have never really expected them to have such damn skills. Of course, you know they are good at fraud. They wouldn’t work for you if they weren’t, but you didn’t expect them to be so smooth and so successful at selling people shit right in their face... You keep on observing Jungkook, paying attention to the expert choice of words and his body language. Everything under control and acted out just perfectly. Jungkook casually talks about the paintings, describing them to the smallest detail. Although, in all honesty, there isn’t much to describe since it is a total farce and you are the only one being able to see through their mischievous plan. There is no denying, though, that Jungkook really looks hot and you can’t blame the ladies for dropping their guard. Jungkook radiates confidence and sexiness. You reprimand yourself for letting your mind wander away, but then... Oh, my. Jungkook turns around and kneels so as to take out yet another painting from the pile near the desk. His back in full view. Your eyes involuntarily scanning his body only to stop at his ass. Not only yours, though...  

“So hot... “ you think to yourself. Now, that the images of his naked butt continue flowing into your head in a speed of light.

“It's not really the time to be thinking about this, you idiot.” Mental struggle going on. He is facing you now again, more talking follows. The same scenario: gestures, grins, or little sheepish smiles, used interchangeably to manage the mood of his excited public. He is slowly moving around the room, getting closer or further from the ladies. All so well acted and with such confidence. You are lost in thoughts, biting your lip when you hear Tae’s voice:

T: So, my dear ladies. Once my friend is done with his presentation, I’ll talk to you about some more mundane matters.

“Money,” you think to yourself. It seems that you are not the only one who got that message straight, though. You can hear a comment from the lady sitting at the very front.

X: And what makes you think we`d like to buy anything from you, pretty boy?

Taehyung is a bit shocked for a moment, but fortunately, Jungkooks breaks in:

J: And what makes you think you don’t? We have many things to offer. I’m sure we can cater to your needs... All of them.

He answers with a nonchalant smile. A hand resting on his hip, the other one spread out on the table to prop himself. Big chocolate eyes focusing only on her. You can feel his gaze, even though you are not the one he is staring at.

 Y: Damn he smooth... 

A whisper escapes your lips and your cheeks flush immediately. 

“It’s not my baby boy,” your mind screaming at the obvious contrast. In fact, it dawns on you now that you have never ever seen him working and you would never expect such a change in his behaviour.

T: Yeah.... Having discussed that, let’s move on. 

Taehyung continues as if nothing happened. You gulp, being angry at yourself. Also, you can’t deny that the way all of these women ogle Jungkook, and his stubbornness to avert your eyes as if you weren’t even there, don’t make you bitter. He’s been purposefully ignoring you ever since this little show has begun.

Taehyung resumes talking again, and Jungkook, having nothing better to do, decides to sit. Not surprisingly, he chooses the chair right next to you. He sits down, all too close. His knee brushes against yours and he doesn’t even bother to move it away. You peek at him, his eyes intently watching Tae Tae, not giving a damn about your presence. He is boldly ignoring you. The very thought is driving you mad. You jostle him with your thigh, not being too delicate. A small smirk on his face, almost mocking. But still, he doesn’t look at you. You are fidgeting nervously in your chair and, once again, you bump him under the table... Or maybe you only try because his strong hand catches you in the middle of the act, keeping your tight in place. He digs his long fingers into your sensitive flesh, completely exposed because of the short dress that you are wearing. He lets out a deep breath as if he was annoyed with you. The grip on your thigh is becoming almost too painful so you decide to let go. Slowly his hand relaxes.

J: Behave, noona. We’re working.

He whispers very quietly with his hand still resting on your thigh. A shiver runs down your spine. “What’s wrong with him,” you are thinking to yourself. Unconsciously, you press your thighs together, trapping his hand between them. When you realise that you let go immediately, but it is too late. He shifts his gaze at you, now obviously interested. He scans your face, and you can feel your cheeks burning again. You refuse to look at him, afraid of giving away that you maybe got a little bit too excited... He reads you like an open book, though. His hand still lingering on your thigh, lazily beginning to move and stroking your leg. He plays with the trimming of your dress, moving it between his fingers, bit by bit uncovering more and more of your thigh. You get a bit flustered, worried that somebody will notice... But then again, all the ladies are too focused on Tae. Still, when he rolls the dress so high that you can almost feel the chair with your naked ass, you try to protest, gripping his hand tightly. He stops moving up then and decides to play with what is already available. He gropes your inner thigh fiercely, making you squeeze your legs instinctively. He is not too pleased with your disobedience so he forcefully separates your legs with his hand. Under the table, you feel yourself being held in place by his leg that has just curled around yours. Your throat goes dry. His fingers now freely roaming between your legs, stroking you whenever he wants to. Obviously, you could struggle more but you are painfully aware that it would attract even more attention... So, he keeps on caressing you there, his face not even once giving out what he has been doing to you. Smug motherfucker. You are getting uncomfortable and too hot, frustrated even. He even dares to throw in some comments, making little jokes with Tae. All the ladies oh so fucking amused. “Since when is he such a flirt?” you desperately try to answer this and some other questions, but it is all too difficult, given the present circumstances. His hand skillfully distracting your thoughts and making sure that you’re focused only on his ministrations. You almost melt in that chair when without any warning he covers your pussy with his inner hand. You hear a low chuckle. Suddenly, you realise that you did not wear any panties. “Shiit... He will bring it over and over,”  you are panicking mentally. But then, oh boy, he starts massaging your folds with two fingers, making slow circles. You want to disappear from that place. Pleasure building up in your belly. You cover your flushed face with one hand, mentally praying to be as quiet as possible. You are afraid to breathe even, stealing Jungkook a pleading glance. But fuck him, he doesn’t even look back. Your fists clench. “Fucking overconfident brat,” stream of profanities in your head. And then, as if he mentally sensed that, he shoves a finger into your tight entrance. The walls of your vagina clenching at the unexpected invasion, but he only thrusts deeper. Soon enough, he buries his finger completely inside you, so that even small movements give you immense pleasure. You are so tight, not too wet yet and it causes a bit of pain, but it is oddly satisfying. This kind of pain that makes you stretch your legs even wider because it is never enough. Your vision is hazy. He sets up an awfully slow pace, shoving his finger in and out of your pussy. Each time he pulls it out you want to cry out to express your dissatisfaction. It just feels so empty then. He is tormenting you and enjoying this too much...

T: Jeongguk, would you be kind enough to distribute the brochures? It will be necessary for you, dear ladies, to read through them in order to acquaint yourself with our offer.

Taehyung flashes a smile. If you could you would kill the bastard right away, without any second thoughts. You hate him right now. Fuck the money... You need Jungkook now.

J: With utmost pleasure, hyung. 

Jungkook stands up, completely unfazed. You shot him a murderous look, but he isn’t too concerned with that. And oh god, he is so handsome, handing in the damn leaflets to these oblivious women, chit-chatting. So cute...

Who would expect that he has been fingering you just a moment ago? You frown at the memory of his fingers inside you. You want him back. You want him there again. He stops in front of you to give you the leaflet. He bends down lightly, and only now your eyes finally meet. You give him that needy look: “Kookie, please do something or else I will lose my mind.” He touches your hand.

J: Hyung, it seems Ms Fay has already decided on some purchase. She’s a terribly busy woman, so please, excuse us. Carry on without me, hyung. 

T: Oh, so we have the first angel who is ready to take care of our priceless paintings!

You quickly stand up, and once again Jungkook is motioning you in the direction of the entrance. Your legs a bit wobbly, so you don’t mind a bit of help. Before you are out, you can hear a hell breaking loose inside of the conference hall. Ladies are raging.

X: Why is she first? Does she have some special treatment or something? I have money I can pay as well!

Y: Don’t let her have that painting! I’ll pay more for it!

T: Easy, easy, my girls! I’ll have something for each and every of you!

Tae tries to ease the sudden tension in the room, already happy that their plan goes just as he wanted it to.

Meanwhile, Jungkook takes your hand and leads you to your office. The moment he slams the door and turns around, you are already on him, looking for his lips with yours, and then pushing your tongue into his mouth. The kiss is so sloppy and you can barely stand on your feet. Legs pressed tightly together because your clit is burning with need. You are so angry at him, jealous, and horny at the same time. You don’t even know what makes you more frustrated. You bit his lip, pissed off, digging nails into his hips. Jungkook hisses, reaching for your ass and squeezing it so hard that it is painful.  

Y: You fucking brat. You and all that teasing.

J: Noona, please correct me If I’m wrong but you were the one who got all wet just by looking at me.

His mouth at the nape of your neck, hot air making you ticklish. You want to make that cheeky smile disappear from his face. You intended to grab his cock through the pants, but before you can do anything, he turns you around and pushes you up against the wall, standing behind you and keeping your hands in place. You are squirming in his tight hold.

J: So frustrated, aren’t you baby girl? Don’t tell me you got jealous? 

He is practically purring into your ear. Oh my, it feels so good.

Y: Jungkook, you’re a fucking jerk!

Upon hearing that, he lifts your skirt exposing your naked ass and slaps you hard making your cheek red and throbbing.

Y: Ahhh...

You have never expected him to do that to you. A cry of pain mixed with pleasure slips out of your mouth. He has never done that to you and you didn’t really think he is capable of doing that either. Your brain is trying to process what has just happened.  

J: Be nicer, noona, will you?

And then he starts massaging your butt, trying to ease the stinging pain. Soft caressing strokes.

J: Baby girl, I’m so sorry. I can’t control myself when I’m around you.

He murmurs softly, feeling guilty out of a sudden. You can feel as he presses his cock tightly to your ass, trying to let go of some steam as well. He is rock hard. You wouldn’t be able to wiggle out of his grip even if you wanted to. Dominating Jungkook. Your mind is screaming. You need more of that.

Y: Tell me, which girl would you like to fuck the most, you dirty brat? I saw the way you looke...

He slaps you again. You cry out loudly. 

Y: I saw the way you looked ahhh...

Another slap follows, making you arch your back. Clit contracting involuntarily at the sensation. He won’t even let you finish the sentence. 

J: You’re such a bad girl, noona.

His voice is so strained, almost as if it was more painful for him than for you. 

J: You’re making me do this. You’re such a bad girl.

Y: Oh yes, Kookie!

You keep on begging like a slut and then he slaps you one last time. His hands are shaking. He hugs you from behind, remorseful and angry at himself that he was enjoying this too much... 

J: It’s all your fault, your fault.

He goes on mumbling like that and petting your sore ass. Your head is spinning and you feel your thighs getting wet. You are leaking a bit from your core. Then, he abruptly turns you around. His face all red. He is angry, visibly angry. Brows furrowed, veins popping on his neck. He spits out, breathlessly:

J: Get your ass on that fucking desk.

Y: Kook...

He cuts in, right away.

J: No talking, just do what you are told. On the desk and spread your legs as wide as you can.

You nod silently. The task isn’t all that easy because your legs are really too weak at this point. You stumble on the way, clutching on the desk at the last moment. You really look so miserable. Jungkook is standing there, observing your struggle to get yourself ready for him. He unzips his pants and starts stroking himself while watching your naked ass. When you sit down on the desk, a bit unsure of what to do next, your eyes go down, focusing on his member. He is shamelessly stroking himself in front of you. He urges you again. 

J: I said spread your legs. 

You swallow hard and follow his command. Eyes closed tightly due to embarrassment. Suddenly, he grips your legs, spreading them even wider. You thought he would just fuck you right then and there because, quite honestly, you don’t have that much time with Tae and the ladies waiting in the conference hall. Much to your astonishment, he takes the chair, moves it closer to the desk and sits down on it. Your cunt is now fully exposed for Jungkook. He puts his hands back on your legs to prevent you from closing them. He takes in the view for a couple of seconds and then licks you all, from your ass cheeks to the tip of your clit. You moan so loud in response. Too loud. You instantly regret that when you realise that somebody could barge in and destroy your much-needed orgasm. You bit your tongue and promise yourself to control this from now on. He takes your entire clit into his mouth, sucking very harshly. He covers your folds with his hot tongue and continues making circles around your sensitive tip. You are so ashamed because of how wet you got. You don’t want him to lick all of that and you grab his head to make him stop.

Y: Kookie, please. It’s enough.

You are wriggling so much that he gets really pissed off. He stands up, gazing into your eyes and takes off his tie in order to immobilise you. He ties your hands to the desk, disregarding your protests and pleas.

 J: Stop this nonsense baby girl. I don’t have all day here. Tae is waiting for me.

He lowers himself and gives you a soft peck. You can taste yourself on his lips. He quickly resumes pleasuring you by licking your clit with his tongue and pushing a finger inside your wetness. You moan and moan again. On the one hand, you don’t want him to stop, but on the other, you don’t want to cum into his mouth. You repeat his name like a mantra. You are so lost at this point that you are almost fucking yourself on his mouth.You are pushing your hips so hard that he has to keep you in place and control everything because your walls are getting tighter and tighter, each end every time he shoves his finger up your pussy. When you are about to finish, he unexpectedly stops.

Y: Oh lord... Kooks. I’ll fucking kill you. Get back there!

He starts laughing, and then he unties you, already positioning himself between your legs.

J: You should really make up your mind, noona.

He palms himself a couple of times, coating his member in precum. You see his cock twitching in anticipation and you lick your dry lips.

J: First you say noo, then you say yes...

Y: Just shut up and fuck me already.

Oh so frantic and needy that you can’t believe it is your own voice. He thrusts inside, all at one go, burying himself to the very balls. At that moment you are completely breathless, your body tensed, and tears are forming in your eyes. 

J: Fuck, baby...

You feel his muscles tightening.

J: I’m so sorry.

He notices your teary eyes and immediately starts kissing them. His cock swelling even more inside you.

J: Baby I could come any minute now. You’re so fucking tight, so perfect.

You know that he is so close and you place a kiss on his forehead, rubbing his back 

Y: It’s alright Kookie, you can come for your noona.

You don’t want him to feel guilty because he got too excited. He shakes his head in response. 

J: No, no, no. Not now.

His cute reaction makes your chest feel heavy. He takes a deep breath and starts rocking his hips. First thrusts very shallow, adjusting himself to your tightness 

Y: Oh, Kookie, you’re so big

J: Ahhh, noona!

He gets so enthusiastic with your praising that he keeps on pushing deeper and deeper, faster and faster. The desk is cracking underneath you two and all of your papers land on the floor. You wrap him tightly with your legs to make it even easier for him to hit the right spot, and oh yes, he really does. He keeps on rubbing you there with the tip of his erection. Finally, he reaches your clit with his hand and massages you while pushing in and out at an amazingly fast pace. Needless to say, you cum moments later, moaning his name while grabbing on his hair. He follows you shortly after, the way your walls are clenching around his dick pushing him over the edge. He shivers, goosebumps on his body, and his nipples hard. 

J: Baby I love you.

He squeaks like a little boy, as always looking for your affection after sex, especially after this kind of dirty play.

Y: I know Kookie... I know baby.

You let him lay his head on your breasts, both of you trying to catch a breath and recover from your high. When he is more or less ok, he lifts his head and gives you a soft kiss on your bruised lips. 

J: Tae... I got to go back...

He mutters reluctantly.

Y: I know dummy. Go and get that money for your noona.

He grins, overjoyed like a little puppy. You have an impression that even his eyes are smiling right now. But, before going out, he helps to put your clothes on and clears the mess from the floor.

Some time later, when you are absolutely sure that all the ladies went home, you go the conference hall. Taehyung is counting the money that they`ve managed to squeeze from these poor women. When he gives you the precise numbers, you are positively surprised. Like hell, that is really a substantial sum of money. 

T: I told you, didn't I?

Taehyung wants to be praised, happy with his achievement.

Y: I’ve never doubted you, boys.

You pat his head, earning even a bigger grin in return. Jungkook is standing nearby, gazing deeply into your eyes. A small smile forming on his face that makes you blush a little. 

T: But Jungkook, next time you decide to disappear in the middle of the business, please just remember to put back your tie on. That was highly unprofessional!

He pouts, winking in your direction. Your stomach making somersaults while Jungkook stands there troubled, scratching the back of his head.

J: It got lost somewhere in the act, hyung...

T: I’m sure it did... I’m sure it did.

Taehyung responds all too happily while getting out of the room.

[guavei]

THE 50 QUESTION TAG

How it works: anyone can participate! Just copy the whole post and make a new post. Then fill the post with your own answers. Make sure to tag people and pass it on!! Have some fun with it!! (I tried to make it interesting) Make sure to tag the person who tagged you!

I WAS TAGGED BY: Stephanie @wanderlustingbibliophile​

1. What time is it for you? 3:30pm

2. Where are you right now? At home, waiting to leave for my class

3. What is the last thing you ate? Jam toast

4. How long have you been on Tumblr? I started my first blog @ilikeyourliplock​ in September of 2011!

5. What is your occupation/year in school? I’m a freelance Spin Instructor, I’m waiting to start my next course at college!

6. What is the last text you sent and to whom? To my friend from group therapy saying “Just got a letter saying I’m no longer welcome back to the group”

7. What’re your favorite things to do to relax/unwind? I love Youtube, Neopets, Tumblr & excising. I sometimes go out and get coffee or go to the pub

8. Have you traveled outside your home country? Where? I have been to France & Spain

9. Where would you like to visit if you could go anywhere? I’ve gotten the opportunity to head over the USA next year as a Camp Leader! I don’t know where just yet but it’s something I have always wanted to do

10. What’s something you’re looking forward to in the next few days? Teaching my classes is always something I look forward to!

11. Do you have any siblings? How many? OH BOY DO I, I have 1 step-sister, 1 step-brother & 3 half brothers. It’s hella complicated cuz me and my oldest half brother both have different dads, and them my younger half brother both have the same dad as my step siblings!

12. Do you prefer nighttime or daytime? That depends on the situation! I love going to the seafront late at night, it so calming, I love to work out in the afternoon, but I prefer going for a jog first thing in the morning

13. Sweet or savory? If it’s edible I love it (unless it’s from an animal!)

14. Natural look or glamorous look? BOTH I love makeup and getting glam and adding glitter, but I also like to tone it down a bit for a more casual affair

15. Reading or writing? Reading - I’m terrible at saying/thinking words but reading helps a lot 

16. Left-handed or right-handed? Right!

17. Dine out or dine in? In! I hate eating in public lmao

18. Chocolate or vanilla? Vanilla baby

19. Make music or listen to music? Mostly listen, I do sing, but I haven’t performed since 2006 lololol

20. Sunset or sunrise? I love it when I get to see both in the same day

21. Listener or talker? I’m not going to lie, I CAN TALK FOR DAYS, I find it hard to concentrate so listening is difficult, I try my best but I can’’t stay focused for very long and my mind goes crazy

22. City or countryside? I’m a countryside girl through and through

23. Describe the last dream you can remember? I don’t really get dreams, just nightmares which are totally horrific

24. Describe a dream or nightmare that you can never forget? 

This is honestly awful.

Aaaaahhh my worst one was like an end of the world/post war/The Purge kind of thing. People were being killed everywhere, bodied covered the world, even children and babies and everyone was out for themselves. Someone was after me - planning on torturing me and killing me as slowly and painfully as possible and I only had two choices - Keep running for the rest of my life or kill them first. It was awful and I took a gun off of a dead body and shot my possible killer with tears streaming down my face.

It is the worst thing I have ever dreamed about -  I was having this every night for months, it was totally mad and I just stopped going to sleep for a while because I was so scared of what else I might see.

25. Have you ever smoked? What did you smoke and what was it like? Yep! I smoked for 7 years, used to smoke 40 a day when I started, I then went on to smoke weed. And as I got older the drugs got harder - many of my friends and myself experimented with smoking different drugs (not like meth or anything!)

26. What is an embarrassing moment you’ve experienced? My entire fucking life

27. Do you like music? What’s your favorite genre? ALL MUSIC I LOVE EVERYTHING

28. Ever performed in a play or a concert? What was it like? Yes and it was horrendous

29. One habit you’re trying to start? Being nice to myself

30. One habit you’re trying to quit? I managed to quit smoking, kinda - now I wan to stop vaping!

31. Do you know what you want to do in 10 years? I want to be running my own gym/leisure centre, I want to be living in my own flat, I want to have 2 more cats. And I also hope to be off my meds by then

32. Do you worry about more often about the past or the future? I deny all of it.

33. Are you in a relationship? Nope!

34. Describe a date that went horribly wrong? (Or wonderfully great, you pick) I went on a date with a girl who was hella hot and she liked me and wanted a second date like idk how a date can get better than a girl is attractive, funny, chill and basically perfect in every aspect

35. Would you call yourself a dreamer? I’m totally a dreamer

36. An overachiever? HELL YEAH

37. A hopeless romantic? Nah not really

38. Who are your role models and why? Katy Perry, Taylor Swift & Demi Lovato - They all saved me at different points in my life with their music and I will be eternally grateful 

39. What do you tend to spend your money on the most? Food lmao

40. Put your music on shuffle. What is the song? Only Forever - Demi Lovato

41. Would you risk your life to save someone else? Absolutely

42. Have any scars? If you want to share, how did you get them? Self harm scars cover my body. I also have lots of scars on my legs from my childhood - I spent my time running around outside and I fell over all the time, or scratched my legs on trees and all that good stuff 

43. Do you want to get married? Nope

44. Have kids? How many? Nope!

45. What is the one thing that never fails to make you smile? Music & teaching

46. What is one thing you learned today? That I can do anything I set my mind too

47. Are you happy with where you are at right now? Yes, I have done so many amazing things this year!

48. List 5 things you cannot live without: Food, cats, music, iced coffe/tea, the gym

49. What is your best quality? I’m funny sometimes?

50. If you could meet anyone from history who would it be and why? THERE ARE TOO MANY I CAN’T

Now go and tag some people!!

I tag @lustingmoon​, @kozmic-sunflower​ & @umbreo-n​  ��🖤💙