#yall i literally started this over a month ago and immediately forgot about it

[twinchromatid]

lover, u shouldve come over

[webslingingslasher]

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/760007558328107008/j-oh-my-god-ive-missed-you-so-much-has-happened

ok so background: i just joined the senior company at my local volunteer fire station (so i can respond to calls) im not technically an emt yet but im going on calls to observe. the boy (who im gonna refer to as 🩺 because why not, and he’s always wearing his fancy stethoscope around his neck) is an emt as well, a few months older than me.

so the first call i go on i’m observing, he’s treating the patient and we’re both in the back of the ambulance. we transport the patient to hospital, and on our way back he’s showing me the ipad and how we document patient care and stuff. and he’s sitting really close. as in our thighs and sides are TOUCHING. and not just like barely i mean our legs are pressed UP AGAINST each other. and then there’s a part about capillary refill (how fast blood returns to the fingernail and color is regained after pressing down on it) and i forgot what it was so i asked and instead of doing it on his hand he does it on MINE and like, multiple fingers too. and THEN i needed to clean something and need to wear gloves (ppe ‼️) and he asks what size i need and im loke “idk a small probably” and he HOLDS UP HIS HAND TO COMPARE MY HAND SIZE TO HIS.

moving on. next standby we’re both sitting at high tops facing the tv where he’s playing some video game. he starts stomping his foot and i look over and he sees my face and is like “there was a caterpillar” and im like “did you kill it” and he’s all confused and says yes (🚩) and we’re going back and forth for a few minutes bc i was like i would’ve taken it outside bro. later on im bored so i ask about the video game and he’s telling me about it and all that stuff.

up until this point i was like okay, maybe he’s trying to say smth or maybe he’s just clueless and is trying to be nice since we have to work together and we’ve known each other for a little while atp. after last night tho im convinced (and so are all my friends who have weighed in) that he’s into me.

OK NOW LAST NIGHT so a few days ago i had posted a tiktok w pink skies by zach bryan and it was just sky pictures i took bc i love taking sky pictures and i captioned it “yall don’t know zach bryan like i do” and he liked the video (he doesn’t follow me but we are contacts in each others phone so yeah) but last night we had engine room at the ems station (we have 2 stations, one for fire, one for ems, all this happened at the ems station, engine room is just cleaning the room with all the vehicles) and i get there (right at 6:30, literally exactly when it started) and he immediately starts teasing me for being late. THEN he comes up to me and is like referencing my caption being all “only *I* like zach bryan” and teasing me and shit and then we talk for a minute about both liking zach bryan and then i told him the caption was a dig at a girl i don’t like (half true) bc she likes zach bryan and i am a certified gate keeper ‼️ and he’s all interested like “who is it” (background info: he’s a grade older than me, just graduated from the public school i used to go to until freshman year when i switched to private school. the girl im referencing also went to this public school and switched to my private school at the same time as me, and is pretty “well known” in our area.) so i told him like im not telling you bc you might know her, he kept asking so i ended up just telling him and he says he doesn’t know her. so that was that last night.

TOMORROW NIGHTTT we’re going on a little field trip (i’m the only one calling it that because it’s funny) and he’s coming on it, it’s an hour drive away from the fire hall and i don’t know who is driving with who but it’ll be interesting for sure. i’ll give you an update tomorrow if you wish, but that’s everything for now. so yeah, this was long but i hope you enjoyed :D

-🔭

the full body pressing had me leaning in...

the HAND COMPARISON finished it.

like, the man is slutting himself out for you!!!!!!

[technowoah]

i just really want jack manifold fluff if you’re taking requests like the reader joins jack for laugh and the stream ends idk you can do what you feel is best :]

Free Content Darling

Jack manifold my beloved ♥

Im so behind on requests yall forgive me 😪

Literally sorry in advance-

Jack Manifold x gen neutral! reader (established) blurb imagine

⚠︎ slight swearing, petnames, and a lot of fluff, a little bit of writers block from me :( I didn't proofread LMAONSK HELP-

Masterlist

"Darling! C'mere!" You heard Jack yell from his recording room. You were currently curled up on the couch scrolling through twitter. The trending page had "JACK" and "TRY NOT TO LAUGH" on the top. The tweets under the trending topics was filled with comments about Jack's stream and other streams happening.

You had heard him laughing and yelling in his recording room before. To be completely honest you dont know why he invited you over his house in the first place. You showed up at his house wanting to just relax and have a fun time with Jack, but after a couple minutes he had told you he had a stream already scheduled today and left to you to your own devices.

Thats how ended up on the couch looking at tweets that talked about your boyfriends stream.

You lazily rolled off the couch and onto your feet. You had the fluffy socks Jack had gotton you as a small gift. You both ended up getting the same socks and slipped around the house because of the hardwood floor. It was a fun activity until you were both mimicking ballroom dancing untill you both slipped and fell on the hardwood floor. It was a small moment but then after you both were more careful around his house.

Opening the door to his recording office you peaked your head inside now knowing if he wanted you completely inside or just wanted to quickly tell you something. The door was in frame when he streams so you couldn't be discreet.

"Hey-"

"Hey! Y/N! Guys it's Y/N!" Jack exclaimed showing you off to the stream. "Come over here love." He waved you over while rolling his identical gaming chair for you to sit on.

You smiled and made your way over to sit beside him in the broken chair.

"Why'd you give me the broken chair this time?" You smiled as you questioned him.

"I mean they are identical, no one would've noticed."

"We'll you told everyone who sat in it that it was broken." You said matter of factly.

"Do you want to sit in this one?" Jack asked pointing to the chair underneath him.

"Yeah I do." You said while putting your hands together in a prayer position. "You wanna switch with me?"

"No, not really Im quite comfortable in my own chair love." Jack said with a smirk leaning back in his chair.

"You sure?"

"Yeah pretty much." Jack's smile widened as he saw your frustration grow.

"Dickhead." You said under your breath.

Jack started to laugh. "What did you say?" He swiveled his chair to face you.

"Nothing. You're hearing things." You smirked.

Meanwhile the chat was freaking out about your interactions. You werent a stranger to Jack's fanbase. A year ago you were just Jack's roommate, but then he slowly introduced you as his significant other. He started flirting with you on stream and on twitter, then after a couple months of that he titled a stream "MEET MY S/O!!!". It was weird for you to be on stream for the first time, but you became accustomed to it.

"What did you want me to do again?" You asked. Jack probably forgot the reason he called you in there in the first place.

"Oh yeah! I wanted to do a stream with you! A you laugh the stream ends type thing. Also the chat was asking for you, they missed you apparently."

"Oh of course they did, I think they love me more than you."

"Yeah I think so! And its not right!" Jack exclaimed and you laughed along with him.

"I think we already lost the challenge, cause we've been laughing for a while haven't we?" You brought up.

"Well the challenge hasn't started. And if we laugh you have to get bonked in the bead with this pillow." Jack had gotton up and walked around the room searching for something to become a punishment. "We have 3 lives each and if we use up all of our lives the stream ends."

"And I have you all to myself?" You asked slightly serious. You still were irked because of tbe fact he invited you over and left you, I mean you are here now next to him, but you wanted time without a camera and monitors in your face.

"Yeah love, of course. But you have to laugh!" Jack exclaimed.

Thinking about the situation, you wanted to laugh and lose all your lives on purpose so you two could have alone time together.

"Fine let's go!"

"Alright then!"

"You suck at this game dont ya?" Jack laughed as mutiple short videos from fans kept popping up on the screen. "You have one more life and I only have two."

It was 30 minutes into the stream and youve been hit with the pillow on Jack's lap more times than you could count, at least that what it felt like. You were on your last life and actually trying to stay in the game after realizing how much fun this was. Maybe you were being selfish, because you were right next to him doing things that you two were going to do alone.

"You have no sense of humor babe." You replied back.

"I do have a sense of humor! I could say my sense of humor is broken even."

"Well mine is too when we compare how many lives we have left."

"Good point."

"YOU LAUGHED!" You stood up confronting him trying to pry the pillow out of his hands to hit him with.

"NO! I did not! Let go!" Jack said still sitting down struggling to keep a good grip on the pillow. You successfully took the pillow out of his hands and started repeatedly hitting him with it as he tried to shield himself.

"Augh! Stop!"

"He laughed! He laughed, you guys saw that right?" You bent down into frame reading the chat while they spammed "YES" and "HIT HIM"

"See, they agree with me Manifold." You said confidently.

"They're just want to see me lose. I'm too powerful." He shrugged.

"Anways! 1 to 1! Loser!" You hit him with the pillow again.

"Stop!"

The stream continued on and the both of you were begging eachother to keep your one lives that you both had left. Everytime you snickered a bit Jack would catch it and vice versa. The stream went on longer than Jack planned, but it seemed like he was having fun. Finally after an hour of streaming and bickering between you both You ended up laughing at this stupid vine from long ago.

"YOU LAUGHED I WON!" Jack threw his hands up in victory. "Holy shit we can end the stream, this took forever."

"You wanna end the stream?" You asked after calming down.

"Well we could just chill and talk to chat, but I would've thought you wanted to chill without.." Jack gestured to the monitors on his stream. "All that."

"How'd you know I wanted to do that?" You asked with a small smile.

Jack shrugged. "Well I kind of left you here in my flat and went to go stream for a while. That was a dick move."

"Well thats what I wanted at first but then you called me in here. I was trying to get all of my lives down, but then I realized how much fun I was having." You explained. For a second you forgot that he was still live until you saw flashing text across a screen out of the corner of your eye.

"It was selfish of me-"

"It wasnt selfish bub! I feel that was valid, but you could've told me." Jack said reassuringly grabbing your hand.

"It was fun though! I wouldn't have it any other way Manifold." You smiled at him and he smiled back.

"Me either."

Jack ended up ending his stream and both of you said your goodbyes to the people watching his stream. He closed everything off of his computer and leaned back in his chair immediately relaxing when the camera was turned off.

"Thanks for inviting me Manifold." You said as he got up to put the pillow back in it's place.

"Of course love." He pressed a kiss to your forehead as we walked away for a second.

"Hey! Why did you invite me anyways?" You asked.

He walked back over to where you were standing and pecked your lips and winked at you. "Free content darling."

[ddaenggtan]

black irises in the sunshine | kth

anger is everything. other gods tease you for the short fuse, but it comes with the territory. people have called you stupid, have called you dumb, oafish, useless, incompetent, insolent, rude, arrogant. all of it. insults and mockery flung at you, but even your skin isn’t thick enough to deal with constant abuse. it’s the exact reason you keep going to the underground, knuckles bloody and bruised, fighting anyone that dared enter the cage. it’s the reason you go to the clubs, surround yourself with mortals and their writhing bodies. it’s there that you see him the first time, voice husky as it rolls through the room. it’s there you find someone who treats you differently than the rest. you just never expected him to be one of the muses. | monsters and gods pt 3 (masterlist)

pairing | taehyung x reader

genre/warnings | greek god au, calliope!taehyung, ares!reader, theres a lot of violence and it does get descriptive so be aware of that, none of the main characters other than ares get hurt and its not uncalled for or anything in a narrative sense, so just be aware of that; there are mentions of other idols, but if you can guess them you get a cookie because they are Vague; suuuuper bisexual Ares, Ares Can Step On Me, like I am SO gay for her it isn’t funny; explicit smut ft: cunnilingus, taeHUNG bc hes got MASSIVE SCHLONG,  some body worship kind of and then just....regular worship? like? idk how to explain that? lots of praise and lots or orgasms

word count | 14k | cross posted to ao3

a/n | HOOOOOOO this has been sitting in my google docs for literal months waiting for an ending and i decided to try to get it out for tae's birthday bUT that didn't work because i have a Job and shit so YEET I GUESS HAPPY FUCKIN NEW YEAR??? LIKE??? YEEEEEEEEEEEEE this fic is very near to me because Ares is my sweet sad angry babie and i love her, and i love tae and i love suho and i love the muses and i just........lOVE this fic like i think this is currently my favorite of the mag series so!! i hope yall also enjoy it!!!! yall are welcome to send me messages about this even tho I'm terrible at replying to them in a timely manner!! thanks to everyone who helped me with this, and everyone who has expressed interest in it, and everyone who has ever read anything of mine, because you're genuinely the best people ever, and this is literally a gift to y'all because you deserve it. 

Fuck, that was too hard .

The guy across from you goes flying, hitting the chain link wall of the cage harder than you intended. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and even holding back, you've got a better buzz than even the best nectar can give. Your blood sings as the guy gets back up, and you almost wish you could remember his name, because he's put up a hell of a fight. For a mortal, anyway. 

He charges at you again, and time slows as your vision tunnels. You can see the feint as he decides on it, how he hesitates in bringing his left up. You wait, watching him get closer and closer. You start to dart to your left, letting him think he's got you, before you side-step and dart to your right instead. His punch goes wide as you steady your balance and move. The top of your foot connects with his ribcage and the resulting crack of bone is lost amid the cheers and yells of the audience. 

Your opponent steps back and you're proud of the way he doesn't show the pain. He doesn't wince, doesn't move to touch the spot you hit, just tightens his stance and clenches his jaw. It's only you that notices the hitch in his breath, the way he flinches with every inhale. Your eyes narrow at that, zeroing in on the rib. You'd meant to just crack it, had been holding back most of your strength to keep from hurting him too seriously, but as he steps forward, you can see the way he grits his teeth against the pain. 

The fight leaves you immediately, like a bucket of cold water straight to the chest, and you drop your hands. 

"Yield." He just stares at you, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Yield to me, and then go to the doctor."

"I'm not gonna yield," He says. He spits a mouthful of blood out onto the floor. "I'm not weak."

"Seriously, dude," You insist. "You're not gonna win this, and I don't want to hurt you more." 

His scoff has you seeing red. "As if a princess like you could hurt me."

Your fist connects with his face before either of you registers that you've moved. There's a voice in the back of your head reminding you that he's just mortal, he can't take the same kind of beating you can, but it's lost in the haze of fury. The next thing you know, the ref is dragging you away and slamming you into the cage wall. Your opponent is being dragged out - you still don't know his name - and he looks beaten senseless. Victory rolls through you accompanied by a sick satisfaction at the way his blood looks decorating the canvas beneath your feet. 

It lasts for less than an hour. It's always like this; the thrill of the fight, the burn of success, it's gone faster than you can blink. It's what drives you to keep fighting, to keep going to match after match, just to seek out the under-the-table stuff afterwards. It's never enough, not anymore. Back in the old days, they'd let you fight anything. Bears, bulls, lions, giants, anything they could get a noose around long enough to point it at a colosseum. That was a long time ago, though, before all the rights movements happened. You won't lie: you miss fighting beasts like that. The sheer power and strength they have, the survival instinct that makes them such fierce competitors, it's so much better than the rules and regulations of the mortal world now. Fights have gotten dull, rehearsed, more like a performance or a show than an actual fight. People make more money losing than they do winning and it's made the world boring. 

You flex your hand as you open the door to your favorite bar. Something caught it at some point in the last fight, a cheekbone or a tooth, and it stings a little. Doesn't hurt, not exactly, not for a goddess, but it did enough that you feel it at all, which means it couldn't have been anything but torture for the guy on the other end. The bartender waves at you and gets your usual ready as you sit, and you idly wonder if Busted Rib Guy will be okay. It looked painful, for a human, and you'd tried to hold back, but…

Well, you weren't really responsible for what happened to condescending little fucks, were you?

You sip the bourbon, enjoying the burn as it goes down. The lights are dim, tonight. You're glad. You don't want to deal with people looking at you, men coming over to talk to you, trying to advise you on how to properly bandage your knuckles or how to avoid the bruise on your cheek next time. If you had wanted to avoid it, you would have. You'd intended it to hurt worse, honestly, but that first guy'd had a weaker right hook than you expected. 

You look around, wondering if anyone here would provide a decent distraction for the night. There's a pretty brunette in the corner with carefully crafted braids, and as your eyes travel, you imagine what's hiding beneath the silk and leather. You're pulled from the thought by the sound of music, and you curse under your breath. You forgot that it's an open mic night and you'd meant to go to the bar across town instead. Irritation colors your vision; every open mic night is awful, full of lofty poets talking about their trauma and wannabe Taylor Swifts thinking they're on the same level as Sappho. Ah, now that was a girl with a set of pipes. You miss her, wonder what she would say to the butchering of whatever song you're about to hear.

The voice that comes isn't what you expect. It's smooth and deep. The world turns to velvet around you as the voice wanders from one speaker to another, creating a mesmerizing multi-dimensional effect despite the way the singer doesn't ever leave the stage. You turn, knuckles white around your bourbon glass; he's utterly magnetic, every eye in the room trained on him as he purrs into the vintage mic. Long fingers are wrapped around the scuffed metal, decorated with jewels that glitter in the dim light of the bar. You can smell the lingering cigarette smoke from the guy beside you and the Jäger from the girl two stools down and for once, you don't even care. He's captivating, voice travelling between speakers in the bar and coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. 

Your eyes don't leave him, and you wonder if you can memorize the way the blond waves fall against his forehead if you stare long enough. 

The red seeps away from you, slinking back into the corners of your mind, settling once more into a low thrum under your skin. It fades into the background of this man's voice, the charisma that rolls off him in waves as he pulls the mic in close just to push it to the side with a teasing smirk. It settles something in your chest that hasn't been calm since the fight in Athens so long ago. 

The music fades out sooner than you'd like, and he gives a slight bow before wandering into the crowd. You do your best to follow him, but the gold of his hair disappears almost immediately, lost in the throng of people around the stage waiting to speak to him. You turn back around, downing the next bit of bourbon that Suho pours you. 

"I know," He says with a grin. You cock a brow at him, not having said anything he could agree with. "He's good. That's what you were thinking, right? He's why we're so packed on open mics. Got the audio and lighting guy whipped, so he's got all these special effects, too. Drives people crazy.”

"He's alright," You mutter. You toss a few bills down on the bartop and step back. Suho gives you a courteous nod as you leave. The bouncer gives you a dirty look when he spots the lit cigarette between your lips, but he knows better than to try to tell you otherwise. You've taught him better. 

You lean back against the brick wall of the alley and take a drag. The warm smoke fills your lungs and you close your eyes. It's a different kind of burn than you're used to, a distraction from the crawling sensation that drives you to fight. It's calmer, more controlled. Feels like the smoke from Hestia's fires. Feels like home. 

"Never expected to see you here," A voice calls out. It's deep and startling in the darkness, but you don't jump. You just open your eyes, exhale, and look to where it came from. 

The singer stands before you in the same undone white button up and black tee he performed in. He doesn't have a cig, doesn't seem to have much of any reason to be outside. He moves almost lazily, as if he doesn't even need to, just wants to, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your vision fills just for a breath with every opponent you've ever faced lying at your feet. 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them. It's not his fault, the voice in your head says, he didn't mean it that way, but still, your blood is thrumming now that he's here and you want to know what he's talking about. Want to know why he thinks you wouldn't be here when there's attractive people and good bourbon and you've never seen this man before in your life. Want to know why he already seems to think you aren't civilized enough to be at a bar, why he spoke but all you heard was Zeus' voice in your memories.

"Exactly what I said. Should I be clearer?"

"Yeah, probably," you spit. Yet another person that assumes you're stupid, that you don't understand basic languages, as if you haven't been speaking them since the ancient times. As if you couldn't speak circles around him if you wanted. "Unless you want your teeth on the fucking ground."

"Good to know the stories are true." He tsks and you're filled with a strange sense of disappointment and fury, both at him and yourself. Your vision turns red at the edges and the cigarette between your fingers is crushed in your grip. He pays no mind to it, just saunters past with a lazy, swaying gait that draws your eyes to his hips and then down the long leather-clad legs. "See you around, Ares."

"That's not my fucking name," You yell after him. He doesn't respond when you shout your actual name, the one you chose, on your own, as a middle finger to the Olympians. "Get it right next time, dickwad."

He turns the corner of the alley and the streetlight catches his face just enough for you to see the smirk he wears. For once in your life, you're torn; you want to smash his face in, yes, because how dare this random guy speak to you like that when you could kill him with one finger to the right pressure point. You also find your skin's hotter than usual, stretched too thin over your bones, and you want him to run his hands over you until it feels right again.

Until it feels like it did when he was singing. 

How did he know my title?

The thought comes unbidden, days later, with the desperate hit of a palm against your shoulder. You've got the woman in a headlock, patiently waiting for her to pass out completely so the fight can be called, and your mind is wandering. 

How did the singer know who you are? You hadn't thought anything of it at the time, distracted by fury and frustration, but with time comes a special kind of clarity. You've never seen him before, not that you know anyway, yet he didn't hesitate to call you Ares. The only ones who know of your kind are your kind, but you haven't seen any of your siblings among mortals in a long time. You thought you knew the other gods and goddesses, but maybe not. It has been a while since you stepped foot in the golden city.

The woman in your grip goes slack and you release her. You're still lost in thought as the ref calls the match and leads you out of the makeshift ring. The cheers of the audience are background noise at this point, akin to static or the buzz of electricity, and you pay them no mind as you head to collect your winnings. You didn't even get any kind of buzz from success this time, too immersed in the way the singer walked and talked and looked. The image of his smirk is burned into your retinas. 

"Yeah, you didn't hear? He just got out of the hospital. They had to keep him overnight because they thought he might puncture a lung. I heard that if it had been a little worse, they would've had to wire his jaw shut." You stop, fingers brushing over the stack of bills you don't even remember being handed. You look up, making eye contact with the guy whispering nearby. Your suspicions are confirmed when his friend smacks his arm and juts his chin in your direction before they both disappear into the crowd. 

You shove your way outside, frustration creeping through you and coloring your vision. You manage to keep it contained long enough for you to make it to the alley behind the warehouse, but it explodes from you in a rush of thrown dumpsters and sheet metal. 

Fuck , you never meant to hurt him like that. You told him, you fucking told him to yield, it isn't your fault he didn't listen. It's not your fault that he went and insulted you, acted like he was better than you just by virtue of being a dude, as if you weren't worshipped in the old days for the power you had and the blessings you could give. You'd held back, through all of it, you'd told him to yield, and he insulted you. It wasn't your fault. 

You slide to the ground, running a shaking hand through your hair. It isn't your fault , you repeat. You close your eyes and take deep breaths, the way Hestia taught you, willing the fury to dissipate. It's like a fire in your veins, burning and bubbling your skin until you can't resist anymore. You take another breath. It isn't your fault. You tried. You offered an out. It isn't your fault. Fuck, what was his name? 

With a growl that quickly morphs into a scream, you kick the dumpster once more before stalking off into the darkness. You need a fucking drink and you're gonna find a distraction in someone else if it's the last thing you do. 

The club is packed when you get there; you're not usually a fan of clubs like this, too full of people who are too friendly, but they're perfect for nights like tonight. You don't even need to wait in line, just slip the bouncer a 50 as you pass, and the bartenders are quick to spot you. You're pretty notorious in the city for over-paying, which means you're knocking back bourbon before you have a chance to ask for it. There are people everywhere, pressed up against both sides of you while the bass thrums in your throat, and it takes you longer than you're proud of to realize why. 

There's a band playing, apparently. They're not bad; the vocalist isn't anything like the singer from Suho's, but it doesn't make you want to tear your ears off, so you consider it a success. 

You're dancing before you remember deciding to. Everything's a blur when you get the itch in your bones, the need to make someone bleed. To feel something that isn't rage or condescension. People are even closer here on the dance floor, suffocating in their proximity, but there's a woman grinding her ass into you, and it sparks the dying fire in your gut. The beat of the music drowns your own heart, and it's all flashing lights and heat and a body pressed against yours that is all too willing.

She follows when you go back to the bar for another drink, and giggles when you lick salt from her wrist before downing tequila. Her hands are wrapped in the leather of your jacket as she kisses you, your own resting lightly on her hips. She laughs against your lips and says something you don't hear before ordering another drink. Something makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You take the brief reprieve to look around the club, searching for whatever it is that has you on alert. You find him on the upper level of the club, leaned over the balcony with a drink in hand. You can't make out his expression, exactly; it's too far away and too guarded. But you'd know him anywhere now. The singer knocks back whatever's in his glass, eyes never leaving yours. You don't know why he's here, if he comes here often or if the Fates are having a laugh at your expense, but you do know you want to make the most of it.

The girl is back, pressing a heated kiss to your lips and drawing your attention from him. You return it, nipping at her lips and getting a small gasp in return. You smirk and bite your way down her neck. She's breathy in your ear, hitched moans lost in the beat of the music, but you barely hear her as you suck bruises into the skin of her neck. He's still watching you. His drink is gone and he's gripping the bannister of the balcony, rings glinting in the light. You wonder if the cool metal could soothe the burn in your bones. You want to know if he can bring that calmness from before back, if he can soothe the frenzy in your mind with his hands the way he can with his voice. Just imagining it has you soaking through to your jeans.

The girl makes a particularly loud noise in your ear and you're brought out of your thoughts. As if he can sense it, the singer straightens. He gives you one last look before disappearing back into the crowd, and you wonder if you're imagining the disdain in it. You draw back from the girl's neck, about to tell her to find her friends when she slides her hands in your hair and tugs.

The burn in your blood is back, now, and you hope this girl is prepared for what awaits her.

"You're here early," Suho says when he spots you in the nearly empty bar the next night. He's not wrong, either; you skipped the fights tonight completely. There was no buzz last time, no relief, and you have no reason to believe there would be tonight. Not with the way the singer captivates your thoughts. 

Besides, you have enough money leftover from the previous few to last a couple days.

"What, did you decide not to kick someone's ass before getting wasted?" Suho doesn't wither at the look you give him, just pours you a couple fingers of bourbon and slides the glass over. "Or did they just stop letting you in completely?"

"I might change my mind if you don't shut up," You tell him. There's no real heat behind it. You've known Suho for years now, been coming to his bar for so long it almost feels like home. You're almost friends at this point. 

It helps that he knows when to bite his tongue so he doesn't get his teeth knocked out.

"Seriously though, I don't think I've ever seen you here this early. Especially not on mic nights." You're very careful in your lack of a reaction to his words. You'd seen the workers setting up for it when you came in, and even if you hadn't, you know when mic night is. You've spent enough time avoiding it.

"Does he sing every time?" You ask in lieu of an explanation. You don't look away from the amber liquid in your glass, letting the silence hang as the bartender does his best to follow your thought process. 

"Taehyung? Most weeks, yeah. It's been a nice change from the usual drunken karaoke. He goes around to some of the other places in town, too. Apparently he just likes to sing." 

"Taehyung," You repeat. The name rolls from your tongue a bit awkwardly. It's more than you expected, somehow, but you can't place exactly how . Just...more. "Is he always that good?"

"Oh, yeah. We have regulars now for mic night because of him. He's got a whole fan club and everything."

"Hm." You drain the rest of your bourbon and Suho refills it. He leaves you in peace then, serving some others that appear at the bar. 

The place fills faster than you can blink. That's what it feels like, anyway. It's like one moment there's you and a handful of other people scattered around, and now you're being jostled between some dude a million feet tall that definitely doesn't look old enough to be here and a girl with her tits up to her throat and surrounded by a cloud of perfume so thick that it starts a migraine behind your eyes almost instantly. She flirts with Suho a little, likely trying to score free drinks, and you roll your eyes. She pouts at him when he gives her the total, batting eyelashes that go on for miles, and for once, you wish Suho would just give in and comp the drinks. 

"I'll pay for them," You say. She was definitely saying something, maybe you should have been paying attention to it, but fuck , this migraine is only getting worse the longer she stands there. "I'll pay for your drinks."

"Oh, thanks," She says. Her smile is hesitant, and quickly turns apologetic as she takes in the boots and the ripped jeans and the leather jacket. "Um, I'm not...I don't, uh…"

"Do I look like I want to fuck you, sweetie?" She looks a little affronted and a laugh escapes you. You lean closer, letting your breath ghost over her cheek as you speak in her ear to be heard better. "If I wanted to fuck you senseless, you'd know it. And I can guarantee you it would be a hell of a lot better than the watered down rat piss this guy's giving you." 

When you lean back, her face is flushed and she's stammering. You smirk and hand her the drinks she'd ordered. 

"Too bad you’re not, you don’t, huh?" You tell her. The patronizing tone isn't lost on her, nor is your mockery of her earlier words, and she shuts her mouth with an audible click before strutting off. Suho glares at you as he pours more bourbon.

"Can you please try not to run off my patrons?" He mutters. "Some of us actually need money to live."

"Some of us would like decently timed refills and to not choke on perfume," You quip. "And better bourbon, for that matter." He hisses something about what he's giving you being top quality but you tune him out, throwing one leg over the stool Perfume Girl vacated. You'd like to keep just a little bit of personal space. 

Across the bar, you catch a brief glimpse of the girl from the night before and you wince. Her neck is thoroughly bruised, and you catch a peek of bruises and scratches on her back as she shrugs her jacket on. You didn’t mean to be so rough with her, even if she had been into it; you’re usually pretty good about remembering that the mortals are just that - mortal - and as such have to be handled delicately. They’re so fragile, it feels like they could break with a strong wind. Guilt settles in your gut and turns the bourbon in your glass to cough syrup. You’ve half a mind to just leave before she sees you, are about to turn and do exactly that, but the speakers screech to life and the deafening feedback from the mic keeps you glued to your seat. 

The crowd quiets even as the excitement ramps up, all talk silencing but for the occasional hushed whispers here and there. The first few notes of the song echo through the speakers, and a spotlight appears on him. 

He looks different this time, his hair dyed a vibrant blue that matches the glinting jewels in his ears and on his hands. He's an absolute vision and you wonder how Aphrodite has allowed him to live so long when he's so beautiful. His voice hangs in the air and calms you, the same settling in your chest as last time, the same freedom from the burn in your veins. It's addictive. 

The song doesn't last nearly as long as you want it to but the stillness inside you lingers long after he's done caressing the microphone. You place a few bills down for Suho and light up a cigarette as you head outside, ignoring the dirty looks from other patrons as you do. You're on a mission, the thrum of bloodlust returning with every second that passes, and you can't even be sure if he's still around or if he's wandered off already. 

You stand in the alley for what feels like hours, turning at every sound and smoking cig after cig just so you have something to do. You've almost decided to say fuck it when footsteps sound from the back of the bar, coming closer to you. 

His blue hair is visible even from the other end of the small alley, a giveaway similar to the light at the end of your cigarette and the smoke you blow into the air. There's no way he hasn't seen you, you think, you're making no effort to hide or be sneaky, and yet he's continuing forward as if he doesn't see you at all, eyes focused on a phone in his hand. You wait until he's just a few steps away before speaking.

"How do you know my title?" You ask him. He stops as if he'd always meant to and doesn't even bother to glance up at you or respond. The edges of your vision turn scarlet at the blatant disregard and you're speaking before you can even process the words. "I asked you a fucking question, pretty boy, you're gonna answer me. Unless you want that precious mouth bloodied up."

"And you wonder how I know who you are," He drawls, still not bothering to spare a glance at you. A scowl grows over your face at his sarcastic tone. "If you're going to hit me just get it over with. Otherwise, I have places to be."

He stands, waiting and expectant, but you don't move. He's humming, quiet and to himself like he doesn't even realize he's doing it, and the red seeps away from your mind until you're left clear-headed once more. You sigh, long and heavy, and crush your cigarette into your denim-covered thigh to put it out. It tickles. 

"I'm not going to hit you," You tell him eventually. "I just wanna know how you know me. And how you do it."

He cocks a brow at that, finally looking up from the phone in his hand to level dark eyes on yours. "Do what? Sing?"

"No." You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. The words are harder to find than you thought they'd be, lost in the depths of his gaze, in the clarity you're so unaccustomed to, in the way you feel like you can breathe for the first time in days. "I don't care how you sing, that's not important, it's the...fuck, you know what, never mind, it doesn't fucking matter." You push off the wall and step past him to head towards where the streetlight gleams off the bar windows. 

"Tell me." The command has you stopping in your tracks, and you're again flooded with just wanting to know how. How he clears the haze, how he stops you, how he makes you feel real. You turn, hands stuffed into the back pockets of your jeans. "How I do what?"

It takes you several long breaths before you can answer, and you aren't even sure he can hear you over the sounds of people leaving the bar, and you find yourself disappearing into the crowd without waiting for a response. Your own words are reverberating in your skull, getting louder with each step you take, and you wish you could just turn it off . 

"How you make me feel like a person again."

You avoid the bar for a few weeks, going hours away from your usual area to an unfamiliar hole in the wall just to make sure you don’t see him. You’re more deadly than usual in your fights, victories coming quicker, injuries piling up along with the guilt, but you can’t bring yourself to return. It’s unnerving, the way everything goes quiet around him, the way you can think, but the worst is the way you can feel. Everything’s calm and steady and blue, and it only makes it easier for the regret and the guilt and the anxiety to curl around your throat and squeeze until you can’t breathe, to clog in your throat while the laughter of your siblings echoes in your ears, and you...can’t. You can’t do that, you can’t let it win, you can’t let them win, they can’t know that you’re everything they think you are and worse. 

You can’t let yourself drown in that, and yet you find yourself back at Suho’s, lost among the crowd while Taehyung’s voice surrounds you. The ache in your bones fades away, chased by the thrum of the fight that still lingers despite the hours that have passed since you felt your opponent’s femur break under your palm and their screams echoed in your ears. Everything is calm again, and the guilt nearly drowns you.

He hasn’t even finished singing before you’re outside, chest heaving as you gasp against the weight on your chest. You broke someone’s femur , and did you even really need to? The fight itself is a blur even now, snapshots playing through your mind like a montage. The way they’d darted at you first, how their foot felt connecting with the backs of your knees, the determination in their eyes when you went down, the jolt of shock as your hands wrapped around their leg, the dull throb of a barrage of hits against your waist as you pulled them down as well and bloodied their face, the blood-curdling scream as you snapped the bone like a pretzel stick.

Your breath comes faster in your lungs, forced out by the growing guilt that lodges there in its place. Images swirl in your mind, chased by a never-ending stream of thought and regret that you should be used to by now. Fuck, you didn’t need to, and you still did it; you lost control, you fucking hurt them, and for what? A couple hundred? Was it even worth it? Who knew when they’d be back into shape to fight, what if they needed the money? They weren’t even half-bad. They got you down, at least, shouldn’t you have gone easy on them? You don’t even remember their face, can’t remember what the announcer said their name was, words drowned out by the buzz under your skin.

Metal crumples under your grip and you spare a half-second to mourn Suho’s dumpster before you slam your knuckles against it. It tingles, not even real pain, and you don’t hesitate to repeat it. By the time the metal is disfigured completely, a distorted mess of paint and steel and garbage, you still aren’t in pain, but there’s a sheen of gold across your knuckles and you feel less like you’re drowning and more like you’re suffocating. The usual. You can handle that. You think. 

You don’t even realize that you’ve slid down to the ground beside the dumpster until the back door of the bar opens and footsteps echo through the alley. You wish you knew how long you’ve been here, how long you’ve sat among empty bottles and stale beer and broken glass, but you can’t be sure. The brief reprieve brought by Taehyung’s voice is long gone, chased away by the guilt and rage that still sits heavy in your chest. You hope you’re not noticeable here, that whoever’s left will just pass by and leave you to piece yourself back together on your own. 

Voices tell you that it isn’t likely, the deep baritone of one too familiar to ignore. The other is new, but you’re familiar with the tone, the inflection, the intent behind it. You've heard it before, in crowded clubs as a guy pushes too close to some girl who can barely stand, in a coffeeshop when a random customer can't take a fucking hint, at the local campus when some professor insists that there could be maybe one thing her student could do to pass. It makes everything in you curdle, the bourbon from earlier threatening to work its way back up; it screams predator , and you absolutely refuse to let anyone fucking talk to someone like that, like they have some right to whatever it is they want. 

You refuse to let someone talk to him that way. 

"Seriously, Kratos, didn't I tell you to leave me alone? Did Aphrodite not teach you your lesson last time you harassed someone?" Taehyung's voice brings a calm that's an unsettling match to the anger washing over you. You're used to the red at the corners of your vision, the tint to everything you see, but you aren ' t used to the way it all turns purple and focused and clear . 

There's no haze this time, there's no abrupt shift of you moving before you know you've done it. You can feel the glass crunching under your boots with every step you take, can feel the way the air has a chill that creeps down into your lungs with every breath, can almost taste the apprehension that's rolling off of Taehyung despite his relaxed stance. The only thing that gives him away is the tense set of his jaw and the mix of relief and fear when his eyes land on you. 

"I'm pretty sure he said no, Kratos." The god turns at your voice and you watch the realization wash over him as he realizes what - who - you are. 

"Been a while since anyone's seen you, Ares." He scoffs a little, not moving from where he has Taehyung caged against the wall of the bar, one hand pressed firmly into the brick. He's entirely too close, and you have no doubt that the stench of him permeates the very oxygen around them. 

"Been busy. Doesn't change the fact that the man said no. Take the loss, walk away." Kratos' eyes narrow at your words and he steps away, but only to move closer to you. 

"Why do you care so much? You've never been one to care about any of us before." Kratos inches closer and the hyper-focus that Taehyung's voice causes starts to melt away with every twitch of your fingers. You've never liked Kratos, all brute strength with no respect for the challenge, no appreciation of the fight, too focused on sheer power and exhilaration. He is the worst of the worst of the worst of your kind, of all the war-focused gods. Every bit of yourself you hate is every piece that Kratos loves about himself. 

"I care that you don't seem to be able to understand when someone doesn't want to be around you, you absolute piece of filth. Taehyung had a point though, I really thought the whole thing with Aphrodite would've taught you how to back off. Or should I pull the video out, I think I still have it saved for when I need a good laugh." Malice and fury twitch across the other god's face and you absolute revel in it. You can feel his anger prickling across you, like needles in your very pores, and you ache for it. It's been so long since you last had a good fight, a real challenge where you didn't need to hold back at all. 

Too long since you fought a god like yourself.

"You're testing my patience, cousin," Kratos spits. It's a little generous to call the two of you cousins - you're several times removed, at best, and potentially closer than that with your family's warped history - but you let him have it. It might make him feel better. "I'm having a conversation, that's all. And if said conversation means that we end up back at my place, then, well, can anyone really blame me for what might happen to this pretty little m-"

Your fist connects with his jaw immediately and the red floods you for the few seconds it takes to register Taehyung calling your name. The calm struggles for a second, warring with the rage, but it wins out eventually. The singer's talking, but you can't make out any actual words. You're too focused on Kratos, the way he's righting and readying himself for a brawl. There's a fire in his eyes that matches the one in yours and everything in you feels alive for the first time in too long. 

This fight is different than your usual ones. There's no blur, no warped sense of time that usually comes with the adrenaline. You're focused and controlled in a way you haven't had to be for centuries, careful and precise and deliberate with every swing and every kick. The red seeps back in slowly and every time you think you're about to lose it, you hear Taehyung, still pressed against the wall of the bar. 

Kratos lunges at you for what has to be the tenth time, clearly trying his best to knock you to the ground - he succeeded, once; you let yourself get distracted, too caught up in thoughts, but it didn't last long - and you sidestep him just in time for him to ram into the ruined dumpster instead. He looks pissed when he turns back around and something in you sings at the sight. He makes for you again and you dodge again, only to be dragged back towards him by the grip he has on your jacket. Fuck, should've taken that off , whatever, he's too close.

Pain explodes in your side and you're fairly sure he's busted part of your rib, but you just slide your arms out of the sleeves and twist to plant your knee straight into his gut and then slam your heel down onto his much-less-safe toes, and then back up to knee him in the groin. It's nowhere near enough to take him out, but his nose is oozing golden ichor and he groans with every shift of his weight, and you've got him pinned against the wall with your forearm pressing hard into his windpipe. 

"Now, you're gonna listen to me you steaming pile of dog shit," You hiss. "When someone tells you no, it's not a fucking negotiation. It means you fucking leave and find someone with loose enough morals or enough internalized self-hatred that they're willing to subject themselves to your absolutely pitiful fucking excuse of an existence for the thirty-two seconds it'll take for you to get off." 

Kratos doesn't respond, just sneers and spits blood at you. It's a miracle you don't actually try to rip his head from his body, because the thought crosses your mind for a second too long. Instead, you just press harder against his windpipe and enjoy the choked gasp that it draws. 

"You don't stalk people either, the way you did with 'Dite. Don't you know it's better to let them come to you sometimes?" You tsk, ignoring the way he claws uselessly at your arm. Gods may not need to breathe, that's a fact, but they feel pain, and there is no way this isn't absolutely excruciating for him when even you can feel the small bones in his neck cracking and breaking. "And if I hear even a whisper of you pulling shit like this again, then I'm gonna find you, you pigshit. And when I do, I won't hold back even the slightest, and do you know what comes after that?" 

His eyes are full of fear now, and only grow wide with terror as you lean in close enough that he can feel your lips against his ear as you whisper. 

"You are going to wish that you could die." 

When you do release him, he disappears instantly, with a cloud of acrid grey-green smoke curling around your ichor-spattered boots. He's only been gone a second when you slump, the adrenaline fading as quick as Kratos had left. Your side is throbbing now, your knuckles are bruised and broken and gold, there's a pain in your leg that you aren't sure what's causing, your head is screaming even through the high of the fight, your face stings in the crisp-cool air. Every breath makes the pain worse so you stop breathing. The brick wall of the bar is rough against your palms, but it's the only thing around that can keep you upright, so you'll take it. 

"Well," a voice drawls from your left. You'd jump if you had anything left in you, but every ounce of energy is gone, spent teaching Kratos what Aretha Franklin meant when she sang about respect - and really, there was another fantastic singer, you really should visit her sometime soon - so instead your head lolls to the side. You aren't sure what it is that jolts through you when your eyes land on Taehyung, fingers curled carefully around the collar of-

Your jacket. That's your leather jacket. You barely remembers shrugging out of it, but you're glad it's not on the ground, trampled and covered in the gold spatters that decorate the rest of your body. 

"Well?" You echo, wincing at the pain it causes. You've definitely got a busted lip, that's for sure from the way it feels different and swollen, and you're pretty sure there's a head wound, too, because you don't remember there being a golden halo around Taehyung before the fight. 

"Well," He repeats, slinging the jacket - your jacket - over a shoulder. "You should get that looked at." He starts walking, making his way to the entrance of the alleyway. He gets halfway there before he stops and turns and cocks a brow. "Are you coming, or do I get to keep this?" Your jacket waves a little, as if he's wiggling it, and it makes you feel like a stray dog being lured off with treats. 

You're never going to tell anyone that it works.

Taehyung's place is as nondescript as the car he parks outside. It's a plain apartment building on the outside - looks like maybe it was a hotel back in the 1930s, based on the outdated carpeting in the lobby and the grate on the elevator he steps into. Even the hallway is plain and unassuming as he leads you to the end and uses an old, tarnished brass key on an older, more tarnished brass knob. You aren't sure what you expected, you can't even begin to guess what Taehyung is like outside of the dirty alley or the stage where he sings, can't fathom what kind of decor he could possibly have. 

What you step into isn't anything you could have guessed. It looks like he has the entire rest of the floor to himself based on what you can see, but there's also a spiral staircase tucked into a corner, bookshelves built in under each step that are filled to the brim, and a fireman's pole in another corner, so there's at least one more level above this, but something tells you both the staircase and the pole continue past that. There's artwork everywhere, pieces you recognize and pieces you don't, several van Goghs and a couple from Matisse and you think in the corner you spot an actual fucking da Vinci sketch that's supposed to be somewhere in Europe. There's a gramophone beside a top-of-the-line sound system, an entire wall that's just a record collection, books upon books, framed bits of poetry - including an actual hand-written rupi kaur, a signed Maya Angelou print, and a signed cover of ain't i a woman by bell hooks that you would die to know how Taehyung got his hands on. It's a museum's wet dream and yet it retains a lived in atmosphere. There are mugs left on tables, blankets strewn about as if someone just got up from a nap, an easel propped up by a far window with what looks like an impressionist painting of the cityscape, books tossed down half-read with receipts and coupons and candy wrappers and everything but a bookmark tucked between the pages. 

It feels like a home and it makes your heart flutter in your chest at the same time that something in your stomach shrivels up into itself. 

Taehyung walks like he’s meant to be followed, so follow you do. You spy another man - older, you think, but it’s hard to tell, really - sprawled across a couch, blanket splayed across his lap as he watches some kind of dance show on a flatscreen hung above a warm and roaring fireplace, a couple of girls in what looks to be the kitchen, one sitting on the counter while the other stands between her legs and pretends not to notice the former stealing strawberries from her bowl as she taps at her tablet, and there are footsteps creaking above you, hidden behind walls even as Taehyung leads you up the staircase. They all look up when you pass, but only the man gives you a second glance; his eyes are a weight on your back that doesn’t leave until you’re upstairs and following Taehyung into a large, rather nice bathroom. 

It’s vintage as well, but it’s spacious and well-kept, like the rest of the place. Taehyung pats the marble counter by the sink and you bite your tongue against the urge to tell him you aren’t a dog. You don’t move though, instead watching him as he lays your jacket across a brass bar on the wall and then digs around in a cabinet for a minute or two. When he straightens up, he’s got a somewhat dusty off-white box in his hands, and he frowns. 

“Up,” He says. “I need to look at your ankle.” 

You don’t move, but you can tell he doesn’t miss the twitch of your nose at the thought of being commanded like an animal. Like someone who can’t understand. Like-

He sighs. 

“Please, will you sit on the counter, so I can look at your ankle?” You huff, but you do as he says. 

He doesn’t speak as he works, completely silent except for the odd command - “Roll it for me...alright, now flex that...deep breath...stop fidgeting or I’ll only make it worse…” - and the occasional hum under his breath. It seems to be second nature, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and it endears you more than you’d like. His touch is gentle but firm as he lightly squeezes your ankle and wraps it, lifts your pant leg to rub some kind of cream into a somewhat worrisome golden bruise forming on your calf, darts under your shirt to quickly and painlessly set your ribs before wrapping those as well. He doesn’t say anything at all until he’s almost finished with the cuts on your hands, golden ichor long gone and wounds already on their way to healing thanks to some sort of mist he spritzes on them. 

It only stings once, as he’s spraying something over some kind of cut on your thigh where Kratos ripped through the denim there without you noticing. You can’t stop the hiss as the pain hits, though you regret it when he glances up at you. 

“Sorry,” He mumbles under his breath as he dabs lightly at it with his long fingers. 

“It’s fine,” You tell him. “I’m used to it.” Your voice is rough, always, but softer than usual. You don’t know why. You can’t decide if you like it.

The entire time he works, you wait. For him to tell you it wasn’t necessary, that he can fight his own battles, that he’s not surprised a brute like yourself got into a fight, that you’re no more than what the rumours say you are. You’ve got a million different curses and insults ready to spit back at him when he finally speaks.

“Thank you,” is what comes. It shocks the words out of your mouth, and you actually look up from where you’ve been watching him methodically wipe gold away from a scrape on your forearm. His gaze is concentrated on the injury and his lips are pursed and you wish you could figure him out. 

He must take your silence for the confusion it is, because he continues. 

“I mean it,” He says. “I’m usually not someone that lets other people fight for me, but we both know that I couldn’t have taken Kratos. He’s too strong, and he was counting on that. Until you showed up.” You don’t respond. “Is there a reason you left before my set was done? Or why you were sitting in an alley beside what is possibly the most gnarled dumpster I’ve ever seen?”

You don’t answer him, instead focusing on the way his hands feel as they tilt your chin so he can look at the cuts and bruises and scrapes that decorate your face. You focus your gaze just past his shoulder, content to memorize the pattern of his gaudy vintage bathroom wallpaper, and he doesn't press for more. The distracted humming picks up again every time he stops talking, and eases the storm of guilt shame rage pain hurt grief loneliness in your chest. 

"I fight," you eventually say. Your voice is too loud in the quiet of the bathroom, shatters the silence like a sledgehammer, and you hate the way it trembles. Still, Taehyung doesn't look away from where he's carefully wiping gold from your skin, just cocks a brow, and it's as if a dam breaks in your throat. "Like, real fights. Actual competition, with rules and shit, and...sometimes the bad ones, because they tend to fight differently, it's a different kind of fight, y'know, and it's never really fair, because I'm...I'm me, but I hold back, just for fun, y'know, and it's, uh. It's alright usually, I go in, do my thing, I win, I go drink, and it all gets, I dunno, easier, maybe, for a while, like I can think right, but, um.”

You hesitate for a split second and force yourself to focus on the way the alcohol-soaked cotton tickles the cut on your head. 

“Sometimes it's not...sometimes I can't control it as well, the anger, and I kind of just lose it on people, and a while ago this guy, he almost needed his jaw wired shut, but he was kind of a prick anyway, I guess, so whatever, but, uh, today, I...there was this girl and she was doing really well, actually, y'know, managed to get me down to the mat, which is rare and pretty impressive, and I'm pretty proud of her for it now, but then, I just. I just kinda lost it, like, I just kept swinging, I couldn't stop, and then I just...I broke her leg, for no real reason, just because I wanted her to hurt, and I don't...I'm not sure why I even did it, because I'd already won, right, like what was the point of doing any more, it wasn't even helping at that point, y'know, it's not like the buzz kept up any longer because I broke this kid's leg, and I love the fights, they help clear my head for a second, but I never wanted to actually-"

You words stop short, like there are too many of them to say in too short a time, and it's then you realize Taehyung's hands are in his lap and he's looking at you fully. His expression isn't neutral anymore, it's not the carefully crafted mask of a performer, it's real and open and genuine and all you see there is pain . For you. Pain and understanding and compassion you never expected to find anywhere but the deepest corners of your soul. Looking at him looking at you like that makes you feel like you can breathe again.

"You never wanted to hurt anyone." His voice is rough, like maybe there's emotion clogging his throat as well, and you aren't sure what that does to you, but something in you jumps at the thought.

Tears mar your vision as you nod and you curse under your breath before wiping them away. He catches your quivering hand in his and just holds it for a second. His eyes don't leave yours and there are a thousand things you expect him to say but what he says is: 

"I believe you."

And that...it's more than you can take, and you break, right there on his bathroom counter, sobbing into his chest while he just rubs your back and hums and you remember the face of every person you've ever hurt and the look in their eyes as you left some of them for dead. 

You wake up the next morning curled up on the most comfortable chaise lounge in human history, sitting up and shoving the blanket off of you in a rush before you remember where you are, why you're there. A glance around tells you that you aren't alone; there's two guys bent over a table that you think might also be a tablet, conversing quietly and pointing every so often at whatever they're looking at, a girl balanced along the edge of the staircase holding a lyre - which, wow, you haven't seen a lyre in that good condition in a while - and strumming lightly along it before she frowns and shakes her head and restarts whatever melody she's playing, and the same guy sprawled over the couch with a blanket strewn haphazardly over him while he watches a different dance video on the flatscreen. He's the closest and you don't really want to talk to any of these people but you think you might have to because you aren't really sure how Taehyung got you here last night but you know it was quite a drive. You'd just mist over to the bar if you really wanted to, but your ribs hurt like a bitch still thanks to that fucker Kratos. Anything as intense as misting is out of the question for the time being.

The man on the chaise spares you a glance that feels longer than it should, full of a judgement you have no doubt you deserve and yet somehow fires your anger anyway. 

He rolls his eyes before you even say anything and waves a hand towards the kitchen. You snap your mouth closed and shoot him an irritated look, but you storm in that direction anyway. Healing is exhausting, and you want nothing more than some meat to tear into and a cold beer. 

When you get into the kitchen, however, Taehyung is standing there already, as if he’s been expecting you any minute. There’s a plate in front of him, full of food you barely recognize, and he slides it towards you. 

“Eat,” He says. You grit your teeth, unmoving, and he sighs again. “Please sit, and eat. You need the strength to heal properly.” 

You resist for a split second, but there’s a softness to him now. Something you can’t exactly put your finger on, but that you know is different , somehow, and it changes things. It makes you want to listen, to do as he asks, because he is asking . He’s not telling, he’s treating you like an animal. 

It’s a request, not a demand, and that makes all the difference. 

Taehyung is quiet while you eat. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t watch to make sure you’re doing it, but you have no doubt he’s keeping an eye on you. It’s quiet, but not unbearably so; the air is broken by the sounds of the lyre and the television, as well as the soft chattering of the men at the table. It makes it comfortable, makes it soft in a way you’re unaccustomed to being, like the way people talk about lazy Sunday mornings or that voice they get when they see a cute animal.

It feels like home should be, instead of what yours is. 

“So why’s Pretty Boy giving me the death glare?” You eventually ask past a mouthful of food. Taehyung barely looks up, just glancing past you to the guy laying on the couch. You can feel his eyes boring into your spine, but it’s nothing new. 

“Taemin’s just protective,” Taehyung says softly. “Especially considering the stories.”

“The ones about me, you mean.”

A myriad of emotions passes through his eyes when he nods, and you wish you could more easily decipher them. Maybe in time, you will. 

Maybe.

“Those, yes,” He says softly. “But he’ll learn.” He doesn’t say it, but nonetheless, you hear the words as clear as day. Just like I did.  

Someone hums behind you and you glance over to see a woman - the strawberry thief - making her way into the kitchen. She gives Taehyung a look you don’t care enough to figure out, and they have an entire conversation in the span of five minutes. Something about it irks you, and it only gets worse when they start moving around each other, Taehyung handing her things without her asking. 

It’s ridiculous, and you know it, but the air gets heavy in your lungs and your head starts to swim and suddenly you’re suffocating. It’s too much, there’s too much here, and you can’t take it anymore. 

The force with which you shove away the counter would have slammed it into the wall were it not already attached. There are slight cracks in the granite tops, though, and there’s just enough clarity as Taehyung calls your name for you to feel guilty about it. It’s not enough to stop you though; you have to get out, you need to get out, before you do something worse, and the cracks in the granite are proof of that. 

You’re out the door in an instant, your form coalescing painfully back into solid matter as you reach the hallway. Your ribs ache, screaming with the effort of trying to mist away from this place, this home , and you lean against the wall in the hope that it will help steady you. 

The door opens behind you, the creak of the old hinges deafening in the silence of the hall. There’s a commotion behind it, voices overlapping each other and reverberating in your skull until they’re a twisted mockery of your siblings. 

You stumble down the hall, one hand clutching your ribs to keep them as still as possible despite your movement. It’s not lost on you that there are footsteps following you, but you can’t focus on them now. You’re not moving fast, and you need to be, you should be running , but you can’t. Your vision is already clouding slightly at the edges, the sudden spike of adrenaline waning now that you’re out of the apartment. 

Someone says your name and you swing. 

It’s instinct, the way your fist flies through the air; you can’t control it, not this, not when the red is all you can see even as it seeps away and turns lilac. It doesn’t matter anyway. You don’t make contact with anything but the wall, plaster crumbling around your fist and onto the carpeted floor. 

“That was rude,” Taehyung says softly. He doesn’t sound mad, though he should, considering you almost decked him straight in the nose. “I’ll take you back.”

He drapes your jacket over your arm and walks away, toward emergency stairs tucked into the corner instead of the elevator, and you follow. He hums as he goes, and he lets you lead the way down the stairs, keeping pace with your quick steps until both of you step out a side door into an alleyway. 

Out of habit, more than anything, you light a cigarette and put it between your lips. You don’t miss the disgusted scrunch of Taehyung’s nose, but you do ignore it. The smoke is familiar in lungs, comforting, and he doesn’t understand it, won’t ever understand it, but he doesn’t have to. 

“Sorry, Tae,” You say after a few minutes of silence. Taehyung shrugs one shoulder and moves to lean beside you against the stone of the building. 

“Are you okay now?” You nod, taking a deep breath, remembering how Hestia had taught you, so long ago, how her hand felt against your chest, the warmth and love it held. “Then you’re forgiven. And you can call me Calliope, if you want.”

You’re both quiet after that. He doesn’t make fun of you, he doesn’t judge you, he just silently drives you back to Suho’s bar, which is when you remember that he doesn’t know where you live. You’re fine with it; you don’t want to see him in your run down hovel. It’s not much, especially compared to his own apartment, but that makes sense, too. 

What could ever live up to the home of a Muse? Not even a muse, really. The Muse. The Head of the Nine Muses, the one called on most often by those in need, the one that everyone knew, the one that Hephaestus just put statues of in the gardens of Olympus, according to the rumors that Apollo sent you. 

The calm that he brings lasts until you get back to your apartment, nearly ten full minutes after you disappear into the alley beside Suho’s bar. It’s the longest the calm has ever lasted, and the view of the city tinted lavender is one you think you love. 

If you can love. 

Things get clearer, somehow. The weight on your shoulders lessens, makes you feel less like Atlas and more like you, how you were all those years ago in the now-ancient days when things made sense. When people fought for honor and glory and justice more than they fought for oil and death and greed. 

It could be because open mic nights are frequent around the city, and you’re able to figure out his schedule pretty well. You don’t go every night that he sings, just when it gets to be too much, when the scarlet haze starts to bleed into your irises like a flag in front of a bull. It helps, for a while, lets you settle long enough to pull the pieces of you back into a shape that vaguely resembles yourself. 

It could be because the fights happen every night, and Taehyung is no stranger to where to look to find them. He watches every one that he can, when he isn’t singing, and his presence anchors you. Focuses you, so that you can pull your punches just enough, so that there’s less hurting and more fighting. It doesn’t work every time, you still lose yourself in the rage and do more damage than you ever mean to, but it helps enough. And when it doesn’t, he’s there, to slide a hand across your shoulders in that exact same way that Hestia used to, that Apollo might if you let him close enough to know you’re alive, that Artemis would , were she anywhere but where she is. 

It’s a strange feeling. You’re not used to companionship, you don’t know how to have friends. You still say the wrong things and do the wrong things and he still speaks to you like he expects to be listened to, but you both are learning. You apologize more often, and he corrects himself quicker. It’s a slow, fragile thing, this friendship, but it’s there. 

Until the night when it’s not. 

You aren’t sure how it happens. It’s been weeks since you last saw Taehyung; he mentioned some project he was working on, something or another that would have most of his attention along with that of several of the other Muses. You had brushed it off when he said it, some snide remark about how you don’t need him there to win. 

You would take it back if you could. 

Because you were right, of course, you don’t need him there to win; you can do that on your own. And your control has gotten better, stronger, over the last few months, but complacency is what always leads to disaster. 

The guy deserved it, is what you tell yourself as you’re pulled out of the ring. He was a piece of shit anyway, you remind yourself as you call Apollo with shaking hands. He didn’t deserve your mercy, you tell the golden gold after you’ve begged him to help save the man’s life. Artemis would have done the same, you insist to him, long after he’s hung up the phone and left to follow the ambulance to the hospital. 

You don’t go to Suho’s. You can’t bear it, not when he might be there, not when he would read it on your face in a heartbeat. You don’t want to watch the disappointment crumble into something more familiar, something worse, you can’t watch him look at you with the knowledge that your siblings are right, that they’ve always been right, that you’re nothing better than a crazed animal. 

The club is packed full when you get there. The bartender starts to pour you a drink and you just take the bottle, leaving a too-thick wad of bills in return. The bourbon tickles as it goes down but it warms your stomach and distracts you from the haze in your mind, the repetitive beat of they were right they were right they were right they were-

“Whoops, sorry,” someone says, a second before they knock into your shoulder. You’ve been around long enough to know a fake fall, and you scowl as you glance towards them. 

He’s cute. Taller than you, with skin that would hide the marks you so love to create, and hair that looks like it would be soft in your hands. His clothes fit well, and they look like they were chosen for comfort over style despite the way he walks like a model in them, which you always find attractive. 

The smile that slips onto your face is familiar, as is the way you bring your hand up to rest on his hip in an effort to steady him. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” You tell him, not being subtle in the way you eye him. He looks soft; you love them soft. “You headed to get a drink?”

“I might be,” He says teasingly, a coy grin forming on his lips. 

“I’ve got something better, if you’re interested.”

His eyes roam along your body, his breath drawing somewhat quicker when he notices the scrapes on your knuckles. “I might be.”

It takes five minutes to get him to a corner quiet enough to talk. Less than three to get your lips on his. One and a half to start sucking a mark into his neck that makes him moan so pretty you can’t help but want to hear it again. 

One of your hands is up his shirt, playing with the pebbled buds and the metal pierced through them, while the other teasingly massages the skin of his hip when he’s torn away from you roughly. 

“What the fuck?” Your voice growls as you look up. The guy is standing there, looking for all the world like he’s ready to run, but he isn’t watching you. 

No, his eyes are on a familiar sight; Taehyung, his hair now a pretty lavender that makes you think of a home you don’t have, even as he doesn’t look at you. 

“Taken,” He growls, releasing the collar of the guy you had every intent to make cry with pleasure. The guy scurries off before you can stop him, though, and you don’t bother to hide your disdain. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You demand, already lighting a cigarette as you head outside. Taehyung follows, pulling it from between your lips and crushing it in his hands before you have the chance to get your lighter out.

“Me? You looked like you were about to eat him .” He follows you all the way to the street outside and down the sidewalk, pulling each cigarette out of your hands before you can light it. He waits until you’re a decent distance from the crowd outside the club before he stops you, one hand lightly encircling your wrist. 

Your boots scuff against the ground as you stop, not turning to look at him. You’re too afraid to, too worried he’ll see it all on your face and just know that you’ve fucked up, maybe beyond repair. 

“Apollo called me,” is what he says instead. “Said I might want to find you tonight.”

You should’ve known. That little fuck, of course he would rat you out. 

“I didn’t-” 

The words choke in your throat. You want to say you don’t need him. You don’t need him to come running like you’re some scared little girl who can’t control her strength, you don’t need him to piece you back together because you aren’t broken, you don’t need him because you don’t need anyone, you never have. 

“I know you didn’t,” Taehyung says quietly. “I know he deserved it, I know what he did, and I know you didn’t mean to.”

Something inside of you breaks and you find yourself shaking. 

“He hurt her , Tae, I heard it, I heard her telling her friend about it on the phone, I saw her crying, I saw her clothes, okay, he-”

“I know,” Taehyung says, pulling you into a loose hug. “I know you did, it’s okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s not gonna escape his punishment from that, you didn’t send anyone to Hades today. It’s okay.”

The cloud struggles, for what feels like hours. Guilt settles like lead in your stomach, and you wish you weren’t so used to the feeling. The rage returns every time you remember what that girl looked like, what she sounded like on the phone, how you felt when you realized it was your competitor who had done that to her. 

There’s no honor in that. There’s no justice, no glory, in beating an opponent who was never aware they were in the ring, and it makes your blood boil all over again. Taehyung’s voice soothes you, slightly, makes the edges of your vision turn indigo, but it isn’t enough. 

It’s never enough. 

“I have to go,” You say, pulling yourself away from him. “I need- I have to find-”

“A distraction,” He finishes for you, too aware that you can’t find the words you need. “Some mortal that you can bruise and break and bang until you feel less like a monster?”

That’s exactly what you want to do, what you had been about to do with that guy at the club, and it’s only Taehyung’s voice calling your name in that soft, sweet way of his that makes you wonder if that’s not a good plan. 

“I’ll be a distraction, if you need one.” You whip your head around, staring at him, but he doesn’t flinch. “I’m sturdier than the mortals, I can take more. Let me be your distraction.”

“I…” You hesitate. You don’t know why. You shouldn’t even be entertaining this idea, it’s not a good one, but then...when have any of your ideas been good? “I can’t fuck in a house with eight other people.”

“You have an apartment,” He says easily. “Let’s go there.”

It’s a bad idea. You don’t do that, you don’t fuck people at your apartment, you don’t have people in your apartment, it’s your space. It’s a bad idea, it can only end in disaster. 

“Okay.”

Taehyung’s lips are soft against yours, yielding and pliant just the way you’re used to. His hands are big and warm against your ass, even through your jeans, and the feeling gives you the courage to slide your own under the ridiculously patterned button-down he’s wearing. 

He lets you lead the way through the door, kicking it closed behind you with slightly too much force. Your apartment is small, a studio with a bed tucked in the corner for the rare times that you need it. 

You push Taehyung onto it and slide yourself onto his lap, already grinding down onto the hard length you can feel there. He's not quite as enthusiastic, but his fingers are like steel against you, pulling you down with every rut of your hips. 

This, you can do. This, you're familiar with. 

You push on his shoulders, doing your best to get him on his back so you can have better access to the clasp of his jeans, but he resists. You try again, firmer, using a harsh suck against his skin as a distraction, but he still doesn't go. 

Frustrated, you pull back. 

"Not like this," He says. His voice clears some of the fog, and you frown. 

"Do you want to be on top, then? Because I don't mind, I just need it," You tell him. He sighs a little, but he flips the two of you over so he's kneeling between your open legs and your back is cushioned against the mattress. 

"How long has it been since you spent the night with someone who knows who you are?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he sits back on his knees. 

You shift, uncomfortable. "A while. Why does that matter? Just fuck me."

"No," Taehyung says, voice gentle but firm. You cock a brow at him and move to get out from under him, but he stills you with a hand on your thigh. 

"You are a goddess," He tells you, trailing his hands down so he can undo the laces on your steel-toe boots and slide them off. "You have held Victory in your palms and set her free." 

His palms burn through the denim on your thighs, but you welcome it as he slides your jacket over your shoulders to the bed beneath. 

"You are the winner of wars. You are the one who grants battlefield wishes. You are the dead's escort to Hades." He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek and then down your throat. 

He pulls back as he gets to your collarbone, eyes blown wide with unfamiliar desire, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

"You," Taehyung tells you, with desire in his eyes and belief in his voice, "Deserve to be treated like the goddess that you are, with the respect you have earned, and the care you deserve." 

As often as you fuck people, it's been a very long time since anyone wanted to fuck you for any reason beyond your appearance and the personality you show them. But this? This look in the muse's eyes as his hands settle on your knees as he waits? 

Taehyung wants to fuck you because you're you. Not despite it, not because he doesn't know . He has seen you at your worst and yet he keeps coming back, keeps showing up as you fall apart. Each time he stays, hands you a basket so you can pick the pieces of yourself up off the ground, holds the tape so you can mash it back together, and is ready to help steady you when you start to crumble again. 

He's here for you , to treat you in a way no one has ever treated you before. He's your friend.

He cares.

You nod, however tentatively, and his lips are on yours in an instant. They're firmer now, less pliable and more controlling, but you don't mind. Not this time. 

Not with Taehyung. 

His hands don't hesitate as he strips you both of your clothes, but you can feel it each time he checks to make sure you're okay. The way that he watches your expression, the tense of your muscles under him, the cadence of your gasps for air between kisses, he reads all of it as clear as if it's a book in front of him. He slows down before you can stop him, his lips drawing back from the kisses he draws across your thighs, and he speeds up as your thoughts start to drift, swiping his tongue and two fingers through your folds to tease and bring your attention back to him. 

His fingers bury themselves in your heat, crooking slightly to brush against that soft part of you that makes the world spin, and it's all too intense. His lips are hardly even touching your skin, just pressing gentle kisses against the skin of your thigh, a gentle complement to the way he glides his fingers in and out of you, slow and steady and delicious, but it's absolutely intoxicating. 

He's talkative, too; he gives you constant praise. He tells you how well you take his fingers, how good you look with his fingers inside you, how absolutely fantastic you taste on his tongue, how he'd live between your thighs if he could. 

It's too much, and you can't be sure why, not when your orgasm is approaching quicker than it ever has, not when your walls clench around him and you soak your sheets, not when he's cleaning your cum off his fingers with his tongue.

"Good," He purrs. "Now you're all warmed up." 

His mouth hits your heat without hesitation or warning, before the aftershocks are even finished, and your hips buck upwards. His arms slide underneath your thighs only to grip them and bring them back down. You can't move much in his grip except to grind your pussy against his mouth, which he seems to enjoy, if the muffled grunts that escape him are any indication.

He doesn't stop until his tongue is buried inside you with one finger drawing lazy circles on your clit and you're cumming again, hands gripping the soft strands of his hair so tight that you would be afraid of pulling it out if you could focus on anything besides the feel of him against you.

He lets you ride the aftershock, this time. Waits until your pants die down slightly, until you're back in your mind. 

"Good?" He asks you. His voice is deeper, rumbles instead of slides, but it breaks through the post-orgasm haze long enough for you to nod. “More?”

“More,” you agree, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss. You haven’t been this clear-headed in a while. Every sensation is clear and crisp, every sound heightened, everything is simultaneously more while also being exactly what it’s always supposed to have been. 

Taehyung’s cock is everything you could have expected from a muse; thick, long, beautiful, and it fills you in a way that’s indescribable as he slides inside. He groans at the feeling, deep and throaty and beautiful, and begins his thrusts nearly immediately. 

It’s as slow as he was with his fingers; steady and forceful, but unhurried. As if he wants to take his time. As if he wants to savor it. Savor you . 

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” He mutters, almost as an afterthought. “What you look like right now, what you look like when you’re fighting, when you’ve won and you’re triumphant? It’s fucking addictive, seeing that confidence in you.”

“Shit, Tae, don’t stop-”

“It’s so fucking intoxicating,” He groans, pace quickening. Your arms wrap around him more fully, nails like claws down his back as you arch your back to get him deeper. “You get this look in your eyes, like you can do anything you fucking want to, and it’s so fucking brilliant, because you can , you can do anything and everything you ever fucking want to do, and no one can stop you.”

A whine you’ll never admit to escapes your throat, and Taehyung drives his cock further into you. 

“Let go, my sweet,” Taehyung purrs in your ear. “Let yourself relax, just this once. For me.”

His hand touches your clit and it’s so much, too much , you’re feeling everything so intensely that it takes a solid minute to realize you’re coming down from an orgasm. Taehyung has stilled inside you, unmoving but groaning as you flutter around him, and you push weakly at his shoulder. 

He slides himself out of you, looking entirely too proud of wet spot underneath you and glistening against his lower stomach. You wobble your way up to rest your elbows underneath you, and it’s like he can sense your words before they come. 

“No,” He says simply. “I don’t you to get me off with your mouth.”

“A hand then? I don’t want you to leave unsatisfied.” 

A frown pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he leans down just enough that your lips are almost touching, a not-there kiss that you can only wish for. 

“In what world is fucking you to the point of Elysium unsatisfying?”

The crowd around you is deafening; some of them are cheering for you, but the majority are rooting for your downfall. Such is the life of a challenging the champion, you suppose. 

You don’t know how Taehyung found this place; maybe Artemis had heard rumors, or maybe he searched for it himself. You can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’ve got someone worth fighting on the other side of the arena. 

The sand crunches beneath your feet. It’s hot, hotter than it should be since you’re still wearing your signature jeans and boots - without the jacket this time. You learned from that mistake. 

Your vision tints pink as you size up your opponent; he’s massive, not one to be easily defeated, and you relish the challenge. It’s been so long since you’ve fought a giant. Excitement thrums under your veins as he turns to you. He scoffs. 

If you had a little less control, you might be flying across the arena already. He clearly has no idea who’s standing across from him. Probably thinks you’re some demigod, come to challenge him for the fleece he isn’t supposed to have. 

He’ll learn. 

Something moves in the distance. It should blend in, considering how dark it is, but instead it draws your eye, and you don’t even question why. You would recognize him anywhere, have recognized him everywhere, and his presence calms you. Makes you remember a few nights ago, falling into bed in a hotel in Rome because the burn was to much and you needed him to help you release it. 

“Try not to be too quick, princess,” The giant across from you huffs. You cock a brow and send a look to your muse, who just rolls his eyes, despite the smile playing across his face. 

Violet rings your vision as you ready your stance. The announcer yells something that’s lost over the noise of the crowd. Taehyung leans forward, elbows on his knees, excitement and pride in his eyes. 

The giant swings. 

[bxthharmon]

Never Go Home Again, Pt. XI || JJ Maybank x Reader

Words: 2910

Series Warnings: violence / talking about abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes sex and sex tapes / drugs / underage drinking

Pt. Warnings: Abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes, sex and sex tapes

Series Summary: A new girl, a shoebox of old memories, a past she’s trying to forget coincide with a hotheaded, but selfless, boy.  teenagers getting in way over their heads

Pt. Summary: JJ and Y/N reconcile upon her return

A/N: and yall are finally gonna learn the readers story lmao. im going to bed like, asap

Chapters linked in my masterlist.

“masterlist”

You’d known JJ for over a month, and you’d never been nervous to see him. You always felt comfortable, and sure, you felt fluttery when he kissed your cheek, flirted with you, put his arm over your shoulders, but you’d never felt like this. You fiddled with the friendship bracelet Kie had made you a week ago, and chewed on your lip as you sat on the porch of the Chateau. You could hear someone in the garden, but made no move to see who it was, stuck in stasis as you stressed. Your vision was cloudy. Everything he had said, it hurt. It hurt because it was true. You hadn’t been honest with him, with any of them, and they had welcomed you and helped you for weeks now. You needed to come clean. They deserved to know - JJ deserved to know - and it was unfair of you to keep it from them any longer.

It was all still fresh. It had been three months since the divorce was finalised. Two months since everything went down with Tyler. One month since you met JJ. You closed your eyes, psyching yourself up. Was John B home? Kie or Pope over? Was JJ even there, or was he home? You wondered, Please don’t let him have been home.

You heard an engine, and looked up. Pope’s car rolled up, and you stood, Kie popping the door open and pulling you into a close hug. She pulled away, eyes shining, “We didn’t know where you were - you weren’t answering calls and your dad only said you’d gone away.” she blinked slowly, opening her eyes again with a determined light.

“We thought you were dead.” you looked away from Kie, seeing Pope. You pulled him into a hug. “JJ’s been a mess. He stole 30 Gs off  a drug dealer.”

You smiled slightly, “I’m sorry for leaving like that. And I’m sorry for hiding everything. JJ was right, I haven’t been honest, and that’s not fair, you guys mean the world to me.”

Pope nodded, “You needed time, that’s okay. You’ll tell us when you’re ready.”

You thanked him. “Did JJ go home?”

“I think so.” Kie murmured, and you swore.

“I haven’t even been home yet.” 

There was a whirring behind you, and you all turned, the trees igniting in gold as a stupid amount of fairy lights lit up you small scene. You raised your eyebrows.

“What the hell?” asked Pope, the three of you in matching surprised expressions.

“Who the hell is that?” Kie questioned, leading you and Pope through the trees.

Lights illuminated the clearing outside the Chateau, gold and red shining brightly on the scene before you. A jacuzzi, lit with floating flamingo drink-holders, surrounded JJ, shirtless with a pair of stolen glasses. He held a champagne flute in one hand, and you heard the pop of a bottle opening. The three of you stood across from him.

You could see, plain as anything, he was at breaking point. The combination of the hunt, his dad, and you had unravelled him. I did this, a voice commanded, this was me.

“What did you do, JJ?” Pope asked, taking in the brilliantly lit display.

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now.” he crooked the glasses, down, looking over the three of you with unfocussed eyes. “Y’all should get in immediately, you hear me?” he sloppily poured a drink “Salud!”

Your heart broke for him. His eyes fell on you, “Y/N?” he slurred, “Y/N! I thought you were-” hiccup, “-dead! You just, uh, you just disappeared.”

“I’m sorry.” you sighed.

“No - no!” he shook his head, voice too gleeful for his words, “I’m sorry!” he tipped his head back as he downed the champagne straight from the bottle.

“How much did this cost?” Pope interrupted.

“Uh… well, with the generator, the petrol, and oh, hey, express delivery…” he chuckled, “pretty much all of it, yeah.”

You kept your eyes on him, knowing that one too many questions would release a dam full of emotions he’d been hiding for years.

“All of it?” Pope stepped forwards.

“Yeah, all of it.” JJ repeated.

“You spent all the money in one day?”

“Pope,” you muttered, knowing JJ wouldn’t last.

“Yeah, burned a hole right through my pocket.” JJ confirmed, gesturing sloppily. “But, I mean, like, come on - guys - like, look at this! Finest in jet-based massage therapy, that’s what they told me!” Kie looked thoroughly unimpressed. “Kie, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?” his voice was hoarse, and you felt worry building in your stomach and pounding at your head. He whipped his glasses off, “Come on, all this scrimpin’ and scrapin’...” his voice went soft, “I mean like - guys, we - you only live once, right? Enough of this emotional shit, get in the Cat’s Ass. Come on!”

“In the what?” you frowned.

“In the Cat’s Ass.” he shrugged, a small, drunk smirk playing at his lips, “That’s what I named her. Oh! Hey, yo, I almost forgot!” he switched a button, and the water lit up, a light flashing as the already bright display got weirder. He was about to break. “Yeah, that’s right, I now. Disco mode! That’s right, baby!”

“Are you kidding me?” Pope cut in, and you squeezed your eyes shut for a second, knowing that he and Kie were pulling at a tether that was seconds from coming loose. “You could have paid for restitution!”

“Or literally given it to any charity!” Kie added.

“Or better yet, you could have helped us buy supplies to get the rest of the gold out of the well!”

“Okay well you know what? I didn’t do that!” JJ burst forwards, showing a selection of purple bruises littering his torso. “I got a hot tub!” you kicked off your shoes, tears building at the thought that the person supposed to love him the most would hurt him like that, “For my friends. I got a hot tub for my friends. You know what? No, you know what? Screw friends. I got a hot tub for my family! I got this for you! Look, guys, look what I did for you! Alright? Look at this! Look at this! No, you stop being emotional. It’s fine, okay?” You stepped forwards as he continued, stepping over the walls of the tub and pulling him in, letting him cling to you. You let him sob on you. “I just couldn’t do it.” He was convulsing with sobs while you tried your best not to, knowing you had to be strong for him. You had to. “I couldn’t take him anymore! I was gonna kill him.” You felt Pope and Kie’s arms wrap around the pair of you, the lot of you wet with tears and hot tub water. “I just wanna do the right thing.”

“I know.” you murmured, stroking his hair and closing your eyes as you tried to keep your breathing steady.

Kie and Pope got out first, leaving after you told them you’d deal with him. You sat him down in the tub again, turning the jets off. You wiped away the last of his tears, gently prying the champagne away from him. You stroked his hair, letting him lean on your shoulder until his breathing returned to normal. You stood up then, helping him out of the tub and guiding him to the bathroom, where you sat him down on the closed toilet seat as you ran a hot bath. You distracted him by reminding him of your best memories since you met him, until the bath was full. You helped him in, washing the chlorine out of his hair, and letting him relax.

You sat on the edge of the tub as he blinked up at you, sobering up quickly. He lifted a hand from the water, touching your waist tentatively.

“Where did you go?” he whispered, the silence pressing down thickly.

“To see an old friend.” you hadn’t thought about your leaving for hours, and now you did, you wondered how broken he’d be when he found out you’d slept with two people while you were gone.

“You went to LA.” he muttered.

“Yeah.” you nodded slowly, touching his cheek, lightly. “I’m sorry.”

He blinked at you, confusion painted in his features. “Why?”

“I left.” you helped him stand up, guiding him out of the bath. You handed him the towel you’d found, leaving him to get him a change of clothes. You picked out a top and joggers, brushing away a stray tear before rejoining him. You turned around while he changed, then lay him down in the spare bed. You draped the blanket over him, changing quickly into the only other joggers you could find, and one of his tops. You lay down in front of him, taking in his bright, cobalt eyes and soft pink lips. 

“Why did you go?” he sounded broken. So broken.

“I felt trapped, like you would all hate me. So I went to see the people who I knew would be there for me, no matter what. Then I realised that, more than anyone, more than my friends in Cali, that was you guys.” he gazed at you, a strange look in his eyes as he processed your words.

“I shouldn’t have yelled.” he closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, there was a teary sheen to them.

“No.” you rejected his claim. “I needed it. I’ve been avoiding it, thinking that would make it all go away. It was stupid. If you hadn’t have yelled, I wouldn’t have gone. And if I hadn’t have gone, I’d have avoided it for the rest of my life.”

He let a tear slip. “I fucked up.” he murmured. “I fucked us up.”

“No. No, I did it. I wasn’t honest. I was so desperate not to repeat what had happened that I pushed you away.”

“What did happen?”

“Where do I start?”

“At the beginning.”

--

Your parents loved each other. They lit up when the other entered the room, and looked at each other like the world revolved around them. They met young, in highschool. Your mom was pregnant with your brother by senior year, and they got married when school was over. Three years later, once they had a house and two steady jobs, they had you. Highschool sweethearts, it always seemed perfect.

You were convinced they were perfect, until you were ten. They had a huge argument, so big, so loud, that the neighbours called the cops, and you and Lewis had to spend the night at friends’ houses. They never argued like that again.

You knew they loved each other, even after that. Over three years later, on the brink of your fourteenth birthday, you noticed they hardly spoke anymore. Family meals stopped, and they avoided each other at all costs. After a few weeks, you came home to a floor covered in glass and crockery, and your parents sitting across from each other crying. Things were perfect for two more years.

Then, she started getting angry. She threw things, hit things, broke things. She took out all of her frustrations on the family, never caring to explain herself.

Your mom lost her job, but was still out all day, everyday. You saw her with another man three months after. When you saw her, you understood something. 

Your mom hated her life. She hated not being able to afford things, not being able to go on holiday, not being able to treat herself. She wanted to live a life more glamorous than what your father could give her. You hated her for it.

You asked her about it the next day.

Your brother and dad got home to see her things packed, and you sitting at the kitchen table, bruises around your neck and a cut over your right eyebrow. The divorce papers arrived within a week. 

She didn’t fight for custody. She didn’t call. She didn’t try to see you.

--

JJ nodded slowly, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb. “She’s been calling you.” he murmured.

“She feels bad.” you shrugged, “I had a go at her, she hasn’t called since.”

“Did you see her while you were in LA?” 

“No, she lives in Brentwood, I didn’t want to waste my time there.”

“Fuck her.”

“Yeah.” you smiled, “Fuck her.”

“Y/N?” he whispered, “Thanks for telling me that.”

“Your welcome.” You shrugged.

“Who’s Tyler?”

“My ex.” 

“What did he do to you?”

You searched his eyes, knowing you had to tell him. You took a deep breath.

--

You met Tyler in middle school. He was the tallest in the class by an inch and a half, and the best looking. You were best friends with Cassie, and Cassie’s parents knew his parents, so you were friends by association. You cruised through middle school, skating with him and his friends when you weren’t at school or hanging out with Cassie.

At some point in Freshman year of high school, his friends stopped joining your skating days, and you and Tyler got close. He asked you out near the end of the year, and you said yes. You spent your summer drinking and smoking with Cassie or skating with Tyler, losing your virginity to him just before the start of your sophomore year. You went steadily for a year, letting your relationship become more and more toxic, until he would throw fits if you so much as spoke to another guy. You lost your friends as he tightened his grip around you, keeping you close with threats and bribes. 

He was the only one who was there for you when your mom started cheating, because he was the only one you talked to. You let yourself be vulnerable, and he took advantage of it. You went out with Cassie just before that night with your mom, telling her about your failing relationship and breaking family. She was the one who told you to break up with him. 

You waited three days. 

He took it well. Nodded, didn’t cry, left quickly.

The next day, your life was hell. You got pulled from English by the police, and taken to the principal's office, and sat down. He told you that a load of photos and two videos had been leaked from an anonymous account. Nudes, two sex tapes. You didn’t even know the videos existed. It was all over Instagram, and even a couple of porn sites. 

You didn’t even know. Not until that moment. No one mentioned it, they just gave you funny looks. It all made sense. Your dad came in, they explained it all to him. They traced it to Tyler’s phone, and your dad chose to press charges.

You saw Tyler a couple of times, in huge, explosive fights outside his house. The case was days away from success, days from him being sued, an agreement saying he’d never be able to share them. Then, your mom came back. It had been almost a month, but she came back, taking almost every penny your dad owned.

Unable to afford the lawyer as well as the moving fees, the case fell through. You only found out about the move the next day, talks of it having been circulating for a few weeks. You had three days, and in those days, all of your friends fell out with you, deciding you had chosen to hide it, not believing that you hadn’t known. Your only ally was Cassie. 

You moved, and then, you met JJ.

--

JJ’s eyes were glittering, shining, with fury. He was hurt at the idea that someone would hurt you like that. He wanted to hit something, but given your vulnerable state, tried to remain calm. You nestled into him, breathing sporadic as you processed the fact that you had said it out loud. He ran his hand over the bare skin under your borrowed top, an act of comfort that spoke the thousands of words he didn’t know how to say. The air felt thick with tragedy, hanging over the pair of you like a suffocating blanket. 

The night was raw, painful. Wounds that were hardly healed were torn open, twice as big, exposed, hurtful. Both of you, teenagers who’d been through more than any teenager should have, hurting. You didn’t move for a long time, the comfortable silence consuming you. His breathing was slow, resting. He slipped into a well-deserved slumber, as you listened to his heartbeat. You realised that you felt something for him. You’d never felt it before, not even with Tyler. You felt your heart swell when you thought about him, and contract painfully when you thought about his hurt. You decided you would protect the boy until the day you died, because God knows he needed it. 

Always the protector, helper, giver. He deserved to be protected. He deserved more than what he had, more than you could offer, but it didn’t matter, because as long as you were able to, you’d try and be what he needed, deserved, wanted. It came out as a whisper, breaking the long, peaceful silence. Rough and straightforward, plain and forward, but full of meaning. Full of the emotions you’d hidden from him, the thoughts that plagued you at night, the words you’d tried to push down for weeks now.

“I love you.”

Tags: @tangledinsparkles​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @lolitstiana​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ @teamnick​ @thoughtsofthestars​ @obxmxybxnk​ @jjmaybankswife​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @sxcretinhuman​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @angvelics​ @badwolf00593​ @coloradogirl07​ @mendesmaybank​ @jiaraendgame​ @5am-cigarette​ @emerald-xcd​ @haharudy

[og-danny-dorito]

Bucky Barnes SFW Headcanons

a new hyperfixation to avoid my growing anxiety with my personal life? yall already know whats up, and i'm feeling angsty so brace yourself

PUBLISHED :  2 - 17 - 20

S F W : 

- to start off of a positive and happy note (jk you already know thats not how it works) its very likely that upon first meeting, any touch directed towards him is met with an alarmed grunt and/or a slap of your hand away

- anything unsolicited makes him nervous and uncomfortable, so if you really do want to pat his shoulder or hug him or something like that you'd have to ask if it's okay first. now it's pretty easy to see the reasoning behind this but for those doubting it i will explain

- big man has been trained to kill in hand to hand combat and advanced weaponry and countless other things, meaning that he's pretty much wired by this point to have a gut reaction that automatically goes to the fight or flight instinct. it doesn't make logical sense that he wouldn't get uncomfortable and jumpy at loud noises and unsolicited touching since his ptsd has accumulated over the years to MAKE him react like that. he doesn't want to accidentally punch you in the teeth

- like yeah he's all tough and shit and could break the a dude’s neck if he really tried, but the issue is that once his walls are broken down he's sort of akin to that of a regulated killing machine having to redo its wiring to be “normal” again. the transition itself would be traumatic, but the process of initiating it would be even more difficult

- so that means that in the first few months of his recovery, he probably would do a lot of absent-minded staring and just long spells of silence where he just doesn't do anything. it's sort of like a reloading point for his brain, and he starts to pick up the habit of daydreaming a lot. sometimes you'll have to say his name a few times to snap him out of it, but when he does come to he looks a little embarrassed

- it's not that easy to elicit an emotional reaction out of him. you'd have to be fairly close with him to actually get most responses out of him that are more than a word long, and so thus starts my favorite trope; hard depressed kill man falls for person who just Keeps Trying

- it's not that easy to get under his skin, but meeting him somewhere normally and constantly talking to him will probably start to make him feel more encouraged to speak in the sense of making normal conversation

- he's a little awkward so in this case patience goes a long way (as does with pretty much everything with him). it gets to the point where after a month or so he may feel weird if he doesn't talk to you at that specific time of the day. if he's grown that fond of you he'll even go out of his way to ask a few people where you are

- part of him hates getting this attached for a number of reasons. there's that nagging feeling in the back of his mind that his environment is temporary and getting attached to the things and people there will hurt him more than he'd like. while he knows that it's not temporary, that he's not leaving anytime soon and probably won't for a while, it all goes back to the killing machine thing

- when he was under hydra’s control, the only thing that was certain was the base he resided in and it's hard to come out of a state of mind where the only thing you know to be continuous is your continued existence as a tool. the place itself brings back horrible memories, but you get what i mean

- so initially he may resist conversation for that very reason

- he tends to pick up on details more than anything, and most of your smaller traits tend to make him quickly used to you. like for instance, if you're prone to pursuing your lips and narrowing your eyes at something odd you've heard or seen, he might find it cute mentally and then immediately correct himself for it. if you tend to snort a little and roll your eyes when you laugh, he's going to notice that and MAYBE try to pay more attention when something funny is said to hear it again

- i would generally think that he doesn't really have much a type or preference at all. in fact, i'm pretty sure the only thing he seemed consciously aware of that he likes in a partner is ability to understand. cause if you can't forgive him for the things he's done and see why he does what he does now, he can't bring himself to feel like he needs to go through all of his self hatred and doubt more intensely than he already is

- he probably is asexual as well but that's sort of iffy considering he's canon been in sexual relationships so that's a maybe. but he's definitely demiromantic. it's not that easy for him to find people attractive anymore. when he starts to get to know you better he starts feeling some sort of way and picking up on MORE details that you may not even notice yourself

- bucky is also incredibly skilled at remembering things you might've said a month ago and completely forgot about. some find this off putting and that's understandable, but when it comes down to it, its a product of sorta okay memory

- “My cousin almost flipped his car over this week.”

- “Phillipe?”

- “Uh, yeah. How did you...?”

- “You mentioned him two weeks ago... when he almost fell of your roof the week before.”

- “I did?”

- remembers dates, names, eye colors, and a multitude of other things, so sometimes he'll just mention something important you may have forgotten and pretend like he definitely wasn't paying too much attention to you. it's surprising how good his memory is even though he can't remember any of his past. so this most likely means that he has issues with remembering events and how they happened, but not the details of them. like how you can remember your shirt color a few week s back but not what you did while wearing that shirt

- and on that note, he kinda shuts down if he gets a weird flashback in the middle of something. they're mostly triggered by smells and sounds, but sometimes if he sees something while he's walking down the street he'll just stop and stare at it. it's best just to stop and stare at it with him, or alternatively if you don't want stares, act like you're taking a picture. but don't talk to him while it's happening cause it'll interrupt the train of thought and derail him completely

- he tends to talk a lot about things if he's grown very invested in them (he's very good at keeping focus). if you're out walking together or just sitting down he might stare and absentmindedly reach out to touch you before stopping himself at the last minute. gently grabbing his hand and placing it wherever he wanted to touch makes him flustered every time. that and hes super soft but is afraid to be vulnerable around anyone

- just gently grabbing his hand makes him all mushy, and it’s more often than not that he finds himself weak when someone shows pretty much any form of affection or endearment towards him

- probably not into pda though, not that much. he will hold your hand if you want to, but don’t expect to like sit in his lap or like straight upstart kissing in public cause any attention in a public setting makes him nervous

- really likes a kind of homey s/o. someone who likes to cook or bake or whatever makes him feel a little bit like he doesn't have to worry about something for a while. like if he comes home and dinner is just waiting on the table for him or you’ve already drawn a bath for him and/or made the bed or whatever, he literally appreciates that above pretty much anything else

- love language is most likely acts of service. hes not very good with words unless he like thinks it out beforehand, but pretty much buys you gifts all the time because he likes seeing you light up when you see them. he does try to spend as much time as he can with you but either anxiety gets the best of him or hes literally too busy, and so it ends up being more distant with him coming over a few times during the week, even if you live together. and we already know the deal with physical touch so im not gonna restate my strong belief in “big man has trauma no touch big man unless A S K”

- but a lot of the things he does are situational. one day he may be very down to be super affectionate and the other he’ll be painfully distant, but the main issue with all of it is that hes very very bad at communication

- this poses an issue for a number of reasons, but his responses and reactions are more physical than anything. so for instance, if hes uncomfortable with something he’ll start to shift and stare and be very tense the whole time it’s occurring, or if he’s feeling a bit more sad or depressed he’ll isolate himself and consistently stand slouched or look as if he hasn't gotten enough sleep. it’s mostly body language, but after a while he’ll feel safe enough to tell you how he feels about certain things

- this takes a while to actually happen, but when it does he manages to just,,, say things that are on his mind. like you’ll be reading or scrolling through your phone or whatever and he’ll randomly be like “The table has a lot of scratches on it.” it’s just observations he has, but usually it translates to him wanting to change the stated fact. best thing to do is just to roll with it, since hes practically learning how to communicate again and he’s picking up on things socially

- now let's get to the “a little fluffy” and “kinda-already-known” shit, shall we?

-  miscellaneous headcanons;

gets jealous pretty easily in the early stages of your relationship, but only ever indicates this by staring the person in question down and refusing to admit to it later

likes having his hair put up into cool hairstyles and likes colored rubber bands (or hair ties if youre not where i'm from). seriously, he may loose his shit if you just like put cool braids in his hair one day like hes a viking or whatever

kind of tone deaf but his singing is more of like this raspy and slightly more “Misty Mountains” vocals sounding

is touch sensitive, so even doing something as small as like rubbing your thumb on his arm makes his hair raise on end

doesn't like his metal arm at all and quite obviously wears long sleeves all the time to hide it, but occasionally wears short sleeves when he's feeling less insecure

oh, super insecure btw and THATS why he feels all mushy when someone is kind to him because he KNOWS he's a freak and that he's weird but you're not still being sweet??? too pure, must protect

gives great hugs since he practically smothers anyone he meets with them, but is also basically a walking heater

is terrified of the idea of taking care of children or just anything weaker than him, but is good with them since they always hang on his arms and hold his legs when he walks

super strong

likes sweets a whole lot, specifically fruity sweets like apple pie or peach cobbler. never bring those wallmart cakes or whatever near him cause it'll be gone in like an hour flat unless you tell him to leave you some

- in conclusion, he needs therapy and probably won't be very responsive when he's not sure what to do. it doesn't mean he loves you any less, but he may have a hard time communicating it to you. all he really needs is some patience and a bit of understanding, and he'll get better with the whole s/o thing soon enough. cause you mean the world to him, and he doesn't want anyone or anything to make you feel like less than that

[diana-panda]

wow I can’t even remember the last time I logged onto Tumblr. This place used to be my life, I even had to reset my password to log back on here. i’m amazed that I still have followers. looking at things I used to blog about is so bittersweet, I legitimately feel the things I felt back in the days. shit was really changed since then. been broken over and over and having to grow bigger and bigger. I decided every few years I'll make a  post, a lil update of my life so I can  continue to self reflect on the shit I wanna change. considering I know absolutely none of my followers, this is the perf place for me to just unload a bunch sack load of shit. covid was crazy this year, survived that shit and realize all those years smoking have really fucked my lungs up. today I got another call from Dahni, who I still consider as my best friend forever. one day when we both got our shit together and both thinking straight again, I know we’ll be able to be friends like we used to. I never pick up to phone numbers I don’t know but every fuckin time I randomly choose to pick up to a rando number - it’s Dahni. this is the 5th time she has called me from a mental hospital. it’s crazy, never thought my life would have be me working in a mental hospital and her coming in and out of one. after all these years, you’ve probs haven’t seen her in 3 years - but she has never ever forgot your phone number, even when she has completely lost her mind. she literally doesn't make sense when she talks. at the beginning, you sometimes understood the shit she said and understood what she meant and felt because you were that fuckin close to losing your whole damn mind before you decided to get sober. still so proud of you choosing to be sober, even after probation, even after drug tests. Dahni still remembers your literal exact address. she said she’s been sending you letters for the past 2-3 years but you haven’t seen shit, especially because you moved to Milwaukee this year. you texted daddy but he said he ain’t seen shit, probs lying, he would hide this shit from you. he always hated her but he doesn’t understand that it was actually you who got her into drugs in the first place. I pray all the time Dahni has completely lost herself or she’ll be able to return to herself again, I miss having my best friend around. after the call, you looked at oldddd ass pics like 2015 shit, yall were the craziest - up and just went to alberqueque, breaking into hotels and creating body slides out of tables and chairs in the ballroom, tripping at the trail of lights and deciding to just walk towards the Austin skyline, there were so many pics I don’t even know where we’re at. I miss that life with you dude, not giving two shits about anything and doing whatever we could to just live life. you were the one person I connect with in such a weird way. anyway 2020 was the year I had to finally grow up, and I can’t be more proud. the reason I got sober was because I was drugged then gang raped in 2016, but I have finally accepted that it happened and I am finally moving past it. your ptsd and anxiety was debilitating. months of therapy with no progress, Janet your psychologist thought the best option was drugs to calm you down but you refused, mommy had to move down to San Antonio with you, you got daddy to install security cameras around the house, you went to 3 different police stations and 2 different apple stores because you thought you were being tracked, a panic attack literally every fuckin day, you got your first gun - but damn shit has changed. I think when you got rogue, that was the start of your life changing around. you used to walk her literally only on your street but now you can walk her for hours anywhere. you got control of your own life again. texas sunshines helped you tremendously, you met a few life long friends - even though you made some besties but ended up losing them - either way, they helped you return back to your old self, the free spirit and careless golden wild beautiful soul you had. exposure therapy - that shit works. going to 6th every weekend, even a couple times a weekend helped you a lot. you had only a couple freak outs where you let your anxiety take over you but there was progress. you have grown so much the past 4 years, it’s honestly mind blowing because you used to be at rock bottom. you legit lost your mind at one point, legit rock bottom, even hearing voices and seeing shit, Janet said drug induced psychosis - but your resiliency and strong heart and soul helped you, with the help of god of course. you were in such a dark place but getting through that helped you be where you are now. but none of this could've happened without the help of your parents - they taught you the definition of unconditional love. maybe that’s why Dahni is still battling this love and hate relationship with drugs - she doesn’t have this support system like you. your parents never gave up on you dude, like how am I ever gonna repay them, because if it wasn’t for them - I'd literally be dead long ago. you still have only told a few of your close friends. Dahni and Mikayla a year after it happened. kiara, erin, and Gracie 3 years after it happened. maybe that’s all that ever has to know. this shit don’t define your life anymore girl. it sucked but you have let that shit take enough of your life. no more living in the past. you live and you learn. stop thinking of ways how you’ll somehow find these fuckers and make them pay, they’ll get what’s coming to them. I used to pray everyday these fuckers got killed and died a horrible and painful death but you’re letting them win every time you waste a second thinking about them. just be thankful you got out of that shit alive. you have this deep rooted reputation of a party girl. but never forget, daddy defended you when yall had guests over once - “yes she parties a lot, but she also studies hard too.” you’re legit a UT grad, you got into grad school - which you are killing. you’ve never been a straight A student but now you are in grad school whaaat. but you know if you studied this much and this hard during UT - you would’ve had a higher gpa, but no regrets. ever!! my time at UT was truly a blessing - it was the best time and worst time ever. that was boot camp training you to be resilient. you used to think you were being punished for having to move to Milwaukee for grad school but that was the biggest blessing in disguise. Jim howard was right, even if I did get accepted into UT’s msn program - I shouldn’t go or stay anywhere near Austin, I have too many distractions here, I would’ve failed out immediately - I need to start thinking like a healthcare provider, people’s literal lives will be in your hands. you can’t kill no one dude, losing your license will actually be the end of yo life and all this school and bullshit would’ve been for nothing. Milwaukee was rough at the beginning but you’ve grown to fall in love and appreciate its true beauty. you needed a break from Austin, it’ll always be your endgame and it aint going anywhere. you got to start over, start fresh, grow up, it was exactly what you needed. Milwaukee was the place where you defeated your ptsd, your annoying anxiety - I mean yeah sometimes you do psych yourself out but you have made the craziest progress, even Janet is so surprised and proud of you! you fuckin live alone and do a damn good job of it. but it wouldn’t have happened without Lola. rogue saved you 4 years ago and now Lola has saved you. they are both fuckin wild and misbehaving, but I am sooooo thankful I have them in my life. god put the most perfect dogs into my life, they helped you be where you’re at today. you even made a fuckin solo trip with just you and Lola from Milwaukee to Austin, stayed in Memphis with just yall 2 and literally no panic attacks. never thought that would have ever been possible. lol having your gun around definitely helps. this year you realized that you used to be fat, how come no one told you omg. but that doesn’t matter because you have finally reached the weight you had on your vision board that you made in high school - 105. you got home from grad school and literally every single fuckin person in your life has said you lost so much weight - girl you didn’t even know it, you don’t got a scale in Milwaukee. but looking at past pics, holy shit girl you lost weight. you still got some to go but good job dude - don’t ever let yourself get that bad again. your new goal is to be 100, then you can stop stressing. lol you’ve been trying to lose weight literally since high school, and all it took was grad school and being depressed AFFFFFFFFF to lose 20 fuckin pounds! with the help of addy too. yeah you were depressed, started in the 2nd semester of grad school and was at its worse at in the 3rd semester. but you yourself, and Lola of course, pulled yourself out of that. you walked to the beach, appreciate the scenery, focus on the sound waves - learn to love life again. you’ve changed so much dude, I feel like you’ve finally lost all of your old self now. quarantining for covid made you finally truly clean your room and rearrange it. took the biggest cleanse of your life, and damn it was a struggle because you the biggest hoarder out here. you found your old pieces, crazy how you still got them, you found old pills, even weed - proud of you for throwing everything away finally, and real quick. because you did think about smoking some and pop a pill or two - what’s the worst thing that can happen right. bitch you know what can happen, normal people can do that but you have forever fucked your mind up, like physically and biologically fucked up your brain. the way drugs works on your brain and Dahni’s brain only has a dark side to it - drug induced psychosis - every time, no matter what or when or how long it’s been, you have forever fucked that up. yall dropped the ball on that shit, yall did it too much, esp the mind altering shit and will never be able to enjoy drugs again - but that’s okay. you don’t need that shit. okay for guys, fuckin listen to me here girl. we ain’t going into zayne or Terren - yo first 2 boyfriends was just dipping yo feet in the waters for dating. you already know what you learned from them. you know what you want and don’t you ever fuckin settle.”life is a mess when you settle for less.” I loved Arin, and I'll always love him. your dumbass almost married him but why, knowing he does not meet half yo standards. from Arin, you learned you want someone that treats you like a princess like he did, he always showed you off, he put you on a pedestal, you were legit his everything - you want someone that does that, where you are their everything. but you don’t want someone who gets angry like that, who lets problems get bigger and bigger til they explode - shit needs to be fixed immediately, if your their everything - shouldn’t they do everything in their power to make sure it stays like that. from josh, you learned you want someone who you can be your goofy self and have fun and literally laugh all the damn time with you - it was such a fun time with josh, yall really did have this amazing connection. he truly loved you and honestly truly loved you. I loved josh, and I'll always love him too. he was the first relationship you had after getting raped, and he showed you how to trust men again. these 2 dudes lacked goals and had different visions for the future from you. you’re such a goal oriented and family oriented person - they were not. you worked hard to get to where you are today, and continue to drop the guys and the people who will get in the way of your goals. friends too - if they ain’t with you, drop em. in the end, it’s your family who will always be there for you. lol you truly treat guys like shit dude and everyone knows it, you don’t even feel bad about it, maybe it’s from being raped, maybe it’s from that ginormous wall you’ve built, or maybe you’re just that afraid of getting hurt, but that’s okay, you can keep doing that, it’ll get rid of the weak ones - what you can’t do is treat the good ones like shit, like tai. you never expected to find a dude so different, but maybe that’s what you need. he’s the exact opposite of the typical guys you usually go for - a fuckin gamer, not 6 feet, lol even asian. you didn’t date tai but yall definitely had something for 6 months. he has never done drugs and doesn’t want to even try drugs - I didn’t know that was maybe something I needed in a guy. from tai, you learned that you do want someone who went to college, grad school is even better, super caring about you. at one point you did think he was going to be the one - he speaks Vietnamese, he’s in pharmacy school, he can game with your brother. he may seem perfect but you learned a lot of shit you don’t want in someone. you’re not on social media a lot anymore, other than snapchat. you even had insta deleted for months - then when school ended for winter break, it took you awhile to download insta again, but when you did, you made one post and never got on it again. tai is super in the social media world, and you don’t want that. you’re starting to be someone who really lives in the moment, the shit happening right in front of you matters to you more, you don’t want someone super into the social media world. he doesn’t treat you like you’re a priority to him, he actually makes it clear that he actually doesn’t give two shits about you - so why you allowing yourself putting any efforts into that. the second he’s upset, he’ll drag that shit out and won’t try to fix shit at all - you need someone who will fix shit right then and there so yall don’t go to sleep at night angry, you need someone who will fight and continue fighting for you no matter what. he doesn’t apologize for shit and when he does, there is always an excuse - you need someone who owns up to shit and apologizes sincerely. you deserve someone who truly cares about you and is committed to you, they need to do anything in their power to keep you and show you love you and not give up on you. you did not get gang raped to settle down for someone who doesn’t make you feel loved. you did not graduate from UT and get into grad school for someone who causes you mental stress and make you unhappy. you did not grow into this strong, independent, brilliant ass woman to date someone who makes you question your worth. you deserve someone who continuously challenges you to be your best self and make you feel beautiful. cami said you deserve someone who spoils you, and she is damn fuckin right. you have come so far, getting sober, getting into grad school, someone needs to feel lucky as fuck they have you. but what’s the common denominator between all these dudes - quit pushing guys away, quit purposely ruining shit because you’re scared of shit, quit getting pissed because they don’t react the way you wanted, quit overthinking shit because you’re usually fuckin wrong. just don’t settle for less but allow yourself to get close. your trust issues ain't going anywhere, but learn to put your guard down a tad bit, let yourself get hurt - it’ll only make you into a stronger bitch than you already are. nothing will ever hurt you nearly as much when you got raped. if you got through that, you can literally get through anything. a lot has happened in the last 4 years, but you know what you need to focus on. continue working on your best self. keep thriving and surviving. maybe we’ll self reflect and reorient again when grad school is over in a couple years and you’re back in Austin. just be happy <3 do your best and fuck the rest

[survivorreelsmagicwithin]

Episode 1A - “The Hufflepuffs are too nice even for me”-Ruthie

This is not the tribe I would have picked. I do not know anyone here which means I am at a disadvantage from the start. However, I am really connecting with Jules right now so maybe I can vibe with them enough to get an immediate ally. But I still need someone else. I am still figuring out my tribe so it will take me a hot minute to adjust. I hope I am not the first boot. I am going to pull my weight in this challenge and pull my first W ever!

I'm fucked, Jess knows how i play bc she literally just hosted me for Old west like a month ago. Whoops. Also joanna is in a competely different house than be so I'm crying. So far I do like my other housemates but we'll see how much of a slytherin they truly are as the days go by.

why. does. this. cast. have. to. be. full. of. icons. i'm really not that good at survivor?? hopefully i do okay??? just tryna be social and shit. (also Ravenclaw is the best)

I’m heading to bed and the boys are about to have a call... I hope an all boys alliance isn’t about to form I’m not here for that! So far I’ve just talked to Kevin and Lily one on one and so far I really like both of them! I’m going to get to know the others tomorrow. This cast is so iconic. I talked to Owen before I read that we weren’t supposed to and he and I are going to go to final two together if neither of us get voted out!

i am SO NERVOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I DONT HAVE ANY INITIAL GOOD VIBES ABOUT ANYONE ON MY TRIBE!!!!!! NOT A PERSON!!!!!!!! AND I DONT WANT TO BE THAT ANNOYING BITCH ASKING THEM QUESTIONS ABOUT THEIR LIVES!!!! AND SHIT!!!!!!!!! ugh i dont want to be first boot EITHER LIKE!!!!!!! ugh. uGH.

Me and Jules are literally kindred souls. I love her so much already and she is my ride or die for the rest of the season. Fuck these other bitches!

Why do I feel like I am the only one putting in effort for this challenge. At least this means I will be safe for a hot minute, right?

Okay so... Max and Landen still haven't accepted my friend request I noticed when I just tried to message them.  I'm still talking to Kevin and Lily A LOT!  Kevin is so easy to talk to and Lily is too and she and I have SO much in common!  I really like the idea of aligning with the two of them but I'm too nervous to suggest it just yet. 

 Also, my wand was special and I got a special idol hunt out of it!  I didn't find anything but still!  I'm glad that I at least got one word??  Not sure if our team will win a reward or not but it would be nice!

Honestly, my tribe seems to be particularly inactive and nonchalant. I am the most active person here, in my opinion. It is kind of frustrating, however, to be the only one trying in this challenge except for the very few and far between exceptions. Joshua even forgot about the challenge entirely! I hope to God that these people, if we have to go to tribal because we lose the immunity challenge, do not vote me out. Honestly, it would make no sense since I am already proving that I will be a challenge asset and very active. I would make the best ally out of everyone on my tribe! I would be allies with myself!

I LOVE YOU OWEN BUT PLEASE GO SUCK A DICK. You need to stop. Wth, go back to school so we can get some points. You too Kevin DX But we're in the lead so far *knock on wood* and hopefully stay that way. Love Jess and I hope I can take her to like f4 but I think I want to take Joanna and Owen to f3 if I even make it that far

This cast.... WHOA!!!! feel like yall had to put some of these ppl under imperius curse to get them back because I havent seen these faces in a WHILE!!!! Ruthie is a queen, first thing we messaged to each other was f2 <333 love her but dont trust that she wont turn on me at some point lol. Raffy my little island of shade bro, and Autumn <3 crossroads queen.... nice to see some of my children back here. I'm glad Jess is in the game because I like her a lot but I did just disappoint her in eve's challenge game so...we will see. but i love jess regardless :) ummmm... so happy I was sorted onto the brain tribe, then immediately proceeded to fuck up several times in the spelling challenge LOL

My tribe is nice though. I'm glad I'm with Dan - we have a weird history in games, but we've both been here for 7/8 years at this point and our ancient bones will prob work together. I already think him and Jules are going to be my alliance on this tribe <3 jules is AMAZING but I can tell they (? is this correct pronouns i dont remember and it wasnt in the posts) are a social legend and are going to be on EVERYONE's good side. love them though already, we have a lot in common and it was easier to talk to them + also get into a bit of game chat.

Joanna and Miguel....not so much. I like them both fine, but they don't know how to converse. I asked them all a shit ton of questions and they didn't ask a SINGLE thing back???? Like...okay work! I can't do it all for you, give me somethin!!!! I do like them both, it's just....they don't give a shit about me! LOL

Miguel is also an awkward one because I played with him LEGIT five years ago or more, in a game where we were on opposite sides. I'd rather work with him based on that connection than not but...apparently he already told Jules that we were against each other before??? and he's barely spoken to me so whatever. I like him, he's cute and he's funny, but.... if he's telling people more about me than he's willing to even get out of me myself, it's a no from me :)

WOOHOOOO WE WON REWARD!! I DIDN'T REALLY HELP (i tried but with no success) BUT I'M STILL REALLY HAPPY ABOUT IT! THANK GOD FOR OWEN

Well it’s day 2, we just lost reward but Immunity is still up for grabs!! Hopefully it’s something we can excell it but 👀 a bitch don’t have many skills so we gon have to see on that one! Other than that we got to know our tribe mates, I have a really good tribe! First off there is Ruthie who I played an old season of TS with and I worked with her BUT also voted her out :c so maybe we can work together and look past that? She was a really good ally of mine but it didn’t work out. I’ve loved talking to her again tho <3 then there is Lily! A new person to me but I absolutely adore her I love her energy she’s so talkative our conversations have been really good! If I had it my way I would work with her in this game, but I don’t want to force anything so I’m not gonna bring that up to her this early. Then there is landen another familiar face to me, I played also a TS season with him, and we had a rocky relationship in that game, not really do in part to either of us just how the cards fell. I did NOT vote him out but we didn’t end our game relationship on the best terms. He seems the least eager to want to talk to me which is not a good sign bc I remember him being so outgoing in 2020 and that energy not being matched here worries me. He also addressed me as “mr. 2020 winner” in our first talk so <3 maybe he might target me <3 thays so fun <3 lastly there is MAX! Max is fun, kinda loud but in a good way, he wasn’t all that helpful in the challenge for reward (him nor landen were all that active) and we had a good first conversation and then it’s seemingly gone downhill? I still have to see if our momentum picks back up before I decide what my plans with him are, i wouldn’t mind working with him if possible but he is also fairly close to landen (apparent after an over 2 hour long call last night.. IN THE TRIBE CHAT) so if landen has a distaste for me he’ll definitely spread that to max if he has the choice, so I gotta tread carefully but only time will tell how I end up fairing on this tribe :o WISH ME LUCK 

It is second day of school and I already hate everyone. It seems that I actually went back to Junior high where everyone's playing PENIS on the great hall. I forgot how it felt to play with teenagers and I'm not here for it. I think I'll be a true ravenclaw and isolate myself reading a book or learning new spells cause I don't have many interests in common with these people. On a side note I'm really happy to be a Ravenclaw, and I actually like our team, I think we are strong and I hope I'm not in danger if we do lose, I'll try to work on my foreigner charm and start faking even more my mexican accent if that's what I need to do in order to stay, Jules is amazing, loved her and I hope we can work well together. Also I love the whole castle idol hunt idea , so... charming.

First things first... this cast is... BONKERS. I didn't expect it to be as stacked as it is..

I'm scared.

I hate it here.

There are sooo many weird relationships here which is kind of a good thing and a bad thing. The good thing about it is... I THINK that means some people got beef and I can maybe piggy back off of some of these relationships... IDK I'm not trying to think too deep into anything right now.

BUT... y'all put me on a tribe with someone who just single handily put me out of a game TWO FUCKING DAYS AGO and I'd like to complain to your MANAGERS @hosts.

In all seriousness I'm going to try and have fun in this game and not take it entirely tooo seriously.

ALSO.. my fucking wand gave me the option for a "quest" yesterday but it'd have to remove me from the tribe chat... so obviously... I gave the quest to someone else. Aka: Jacob.. who I knew would be a selfish bitch and take the quest. I also knew the likelihood of him telling me about what actually happened were high and I'd virtually get no weird looks my way because I WASN'T the one who was removed from the tribe chat. This basically ensured that I got to know what the quest was, its potential contents, and paint a target on someone else rather than myself in case there was virtually nothing to base the first couple of votes on... right?

I think I'm onto something with the idol guesses. There's weird storylines in them and I THINK if I can somehow get to the green house and find the other ingredients that were in Snape's writing I'll be onto something.

Also me and Jacob snapped in that Reward challenge and these HEATHENS should thank us for single-handily giving them a reward. Nick randomly slept all god damn day.. which really annoyed me. We have a reward and you are gonna SLEEP ALL DAY? SIR? I get real life happens but at least hide the fact you sleeping sis.

My tribe is literally probably the LAST TRIBE I wanted to end up on because well.. 1. Nick is shady and social. He might take the fact that I was loyal to people in the other game into account. I've tried the whole "I start off each game fresh and no hard feelings" spell but will he accept it? Tune in folks. I also technically can't explain my actions in the game to him because he is currently still in it so... PARTY!

2. Jacob is amazing and I love him. We've actually played several games together and weirdly always end up super loyal to people. He's a crackhead though so I'm gonna have to be a BIT cautious with him. I sipped dumb bitch juice and told him about Snape's writing because I want to show him some sort of token of loyalty.

3. Vi is a crackhead. I know this because I've hosted her. Kind of wanna fuck around and give her first boot from the tribe because I DO NOT TRUST HER. When she gets bored, she fucks things up, she lies for fun, and well... no.

4. Jessie seems really sweet so far. We haven't really spoken much which kind of sucks but we will get there!? I think?

I think some may have found something, because I just idol searched and I the exact same path I did yesterday, and yesterday there were three different choices and today there were only two. The only reason I could think of why one of the ending options were removed is that something was there and something was found...

12 minutes later

turns out it was a mistake, never mind

Okay it is challenge time and Max is around I think and Lily is finishing a class but KEVIN AND LANDEN ARE LATE, they are delinquents I expect more from Hufflepuffs than this tardiness.

I'm definitely kidding but... may not be able to be around for the entire challenge if they don't hurry the heck up.  Part of me wants to start but I don't want this to be on me if we don't do well.  OH Kevin just messaged me so at least another tribe member is on... WHY is he not messaging the tribe chat?? OH Lily is on now so I should stop writing and get to business...  WISH us cute little badgers luck!

I'm definitely kidding but... may not be able to be around for the entire challenge if they don't hurry the heck up.  Part of me wants to start but I don't want this to be on me if we don't do well.  OH Kevin just messaged me so at least another tribe member is on... WHY is he not messaging the tribe chat?? OH Lily is on now so I should stop writing and get to business...  WISH us cute little badgers luck!

20 minutes later

been doing this challenge for over an hour, i feel defeated

If this wasn't a team work thing I would be done by now these people are slowing me down. x_x.  DLSJFSLDFJ I shouldn't complain. They all have good ideas but it takes FOREVER to agree on something.  Also I do feel like an asset to the hufflepuff tribe because when I was eating lunch with my family Lily messaged me and told me I was the glue holding the tribe together and she wished I was back and that made me feel VERY good about my place on the tribe!

But seriously I'm just ready for the challenge to be over so low key I hope that Max stops responding for awhile again so I can just say random shit until we finish the dang thing LSDJFLSJDF.

The Hufflepuffs are too nice even for me.

That challenge went terribly. In all honesty, I would not blame my tribe for wanting to take me out because I took up the leadership role. But it was not like anyone else was taking the reigns so I needed to do something. I just hope they can see the merits of keeping me in this game. I really don't want to be first boot. I think we're going to have to go to tribal because we we took so long. God this is going to be so frustrating.

This challenge is NEVER going to end I'm trying to be patient but Max always interjects with something and it SLOWS EVERYTHING DOWN FOR TEN MINUTES.  OR MORE. I just have this window open to complain, lol, I won't send this for awhile. LOL Max is killing me. All the boys are exhausting I don't think they have been paying any attention to the notes I have been making, if we go to tribal council Lily and I SHOULD be safe.

OKAY it was fun that everyone just joined in in the end but I'm so glad that it is over and I hope that we won this thing and are safe!

me: im gonna be sneaky and not tell my alliance ALL the info i have also me: tells them info i couldnt possibly know without telling them ALL the info i have anyways.

https://youtu.be/qhfHo_Ns1xQ

Living my dream as a huff puff, no big deal. So far I’m really enjoying being on my tribe. We all communicate well and have positive attitudes about things. We also had so much fun at the immunity challenge but I can tell we are all stressed about the results. I’m really impressed by everyone this season being involved and I could tell people were on their A game during the reward challenge. I would really hate to see us as the bottom tribe having to go to tribal. I honestly don’t want to see any of these people go but I certainly don’t want to be first boot. I’m really proud of our tribe and I would hate to have a loss right now put a crack in the friendships we have been building.

[blondeandbubblyent-blog]

blonde & bubbly : 10.29

in this episode: a recap of the hills at the one year mark and the most recent awards

sabine: hello and welcome to very first episode of blonde and bubbly! i’m sabine al-masri and i’m here with my lovely cohost, business partner, and beautiful fellow blonde madison ware.

madi: hi everyone! Like Sabine just said, I’m madison and i’m so excited to be here today and chat with you guys today! For the very first episode of our new podcast we’re going to do a little recap of everything that happened to past year on the show, to celebrate the one year anniversary of the reboot! 

sabine: so since i have only been here since june, madi will cover the first half of the hills and i will cover the second, so madi, the floor is yours. also, today’s podcast is sponsored by veuve clicquot, madi and i will be opening and drinking a nice bottle of 2008 vintage brut rose on today’s airing.

madi: thank you peach! so when the reboot of the show started back in november 2016, there was a completely different atmosphere if i can say so. A lot of the first cast members left, i think there less than ten original members left? Kazi got with Mia in december and Finn was with a girl named Kate. The first couple of the show were Brenda and Miguel, i cant exactly remember if they got together at her iconic birthday party or not. Miguel was such a funny guy, he always had jokes and was nice to see on the timeline. They’re both parents now. A few weeks later came Sonny, Quentin and Noemi, some of the most appreciated cast members here. Then Sawyer,Sabrina, Xavier and Thomas. Thomas and I rapidly got close and became best friends, although people always said we had a thing and were dating, which was not true. we were also in a sorta triangle love type of thing. at the time i was helping a friend, named kai, who needed a fake girlfriend. so of course i said id do it and pretend to be with him and all. but i was very close to thomas, and everyone could see it. they thought i was cheating on kai with thomas, sawyer even came at me for this, i remember it perfectly. then kai left and thomas’ kid was born and he got with riley. i had this thing with a guy named reese, but he was always fighting with everyone on the timeline and never actually happy? i remember nobody understood what i liked in him. He was actually a very nice guy, but had definitely a lot of issues. 

sabine: and for the second half of the hills recap, i have a shit memory so i’ll be using things from gossip as highlights. i don’t remember much from the beginning of my time here, but there was that raf, kai, bella drama i remember. that love triangle. that was kana was a huge player too, and him and erin had their drama. sawyer was with aiden, yaya and carina were that on and off thing. 

madi: then summer came along and we got a lot of new people, including toni, aries & adrian. a lot of the old problematic cast left, thank god. things were rather calm at that moment. I think just a few weeks before that i broke up with reese and then we almost got officially back together but he cheated on me with one of my friends, so i was having kind of a rough time. but i got back on my feet and traveled and forgot about him. 

sabine: It was  also around that time that Antigone joined the show, right? funny story here, we used to be friends and then i hated her and now we’re the best of friends again. i didn’t like her “married men” phase and not a lot of people did either, i remember she got a lot of shit for it. larkin was a cry baby back then and so was astraea. some anon i remember called atlas and jinyoung from the start so congrats to that anon. i never knew that erin was pregnant with kana’s baby, was that true?

madi: Acutally i still dont know if this is true or not!

sabine: there was that huge baby fever eruption over the summer and people had those stupid rumors about kazi cheating on mia. can i just say? to anyone who thinks kazi and mia would ever cheat on each other? you’re an idiot. oh, elijah got mugged right? that was wild.

madi: the cheating rumors have been here since the start and they’re just..pathetic. It’s sad to think that someone spent a year sending those to a gossip. and it’s so sad to see two of your close friends go through that.  i also forgot to mention, the golden couple had their wedding back in july. it was a beautiful ceremony, however, like at every events on this show, someone acted like a fool and made it all about them. that someone? is crazy astronaut girl. yes, astraea. i think she broke her hand at the reception then wouldnt stop complaining about it. she was probably in a fight with blayze.

sabine: he has a thing with astraea! she was literally in love with him. dean and barbie were together at that point. i think thomas and i were dating at this point too, it was kind of on and off around the time of the wedding. okay here’s another anon i want to point out. “who the fuck is libby and why do people like her”. to answer that libby is an amazing human being and people don’t like her, they love her. javon and naomi were a thing. jagger and thorne became athing. sofia and finn were a thing. antigone and raf had their beef.

madi: astraea was obsessed with blayze and with the idea of having a boyfriend really. there were a lot of couples at that time, and they all broke up a few weeks later. 

sabine: and this part is gold, when asked who the cutest couples were, gossip responded “gia & fitz, aiden & sawyer, finn & sofia.” that just shows you how far we’ve traveled. and people thought bryce was some kind of casanova who went around breaking hearts for fun, which couldn’t be further from the truth. a few weeks later aries and toni got together and stayed together for a while, until she broke things off. another bashir joined the show too, Abel. he and sabrina immediately got into a relationships. around the same time or so, antigone and adrian had broken up, again. and missy joined the show. she had a thing with him, and sadly left because she didnt feel welcomed. 

madi: then fall came along and some people from the past came back, like effy, cyrus and sofia. and this is where im going to stop the recap, because if you’ve watched a few recent episodes of the show, you know what happened. if you havent, you can always watch them all online on mtv’s website! 

sabine: and now moving on to last night’s awards, there are some that i saw and was like bullshit, you know? what did you think mads?

madi: i think the reactions we inevitable! i kinda expected them and thought i wouldnt be surprised by the results of the votes, but i was. 

sabine: the first award that kind of threw me off guard was the most under appreciated one, i don’t know how rallo weaseled his way in there but i don’t think he should have placed. i mean if people really got to know him the way i have, i would say there’s not much to appreciate.

madi: really? i love rallo, he’s one of my best friends. he knows literally everything about me. i didnt expect people to vote for him tho, but im actually happy they did. i see a lot of his tweets that arent about his idiotic musicallys get unanswered and it angers me. i hate when people here ignore others. 

sabine: for cutest couple, i would have placed q, sonny and noemi in first place. they’ve just always been constant and loving and i don’t think, as far as i can remember, them having issues. so i think they should have at least tied for first, or been first.

madi: i think it wasnt a surpise that mia and kazi won. what i was surprised to see tho is that antigone and adrian won, seeing by the anons on the gossip i never knew people really thought they were cute or so. it’s nice to see them top a couple like mazi. i also completely agree with what you said on quentin, noemi and sonny, we love an unproblematic couple. to be honest, i hate to pick between couples, i feel like im always betraying one of my friends, am i the only one? probably.

sabine: here is what pissed me off the most, the cutest couple that never was. adrian and toni, me and kazi, and fitz and gia. i don’t know why any of those recieved votes or the votes that they did, but whoever voted for those hasn’t been paying attention. adrian and toni for starters, aren’t close like they used to be, so maybe a couple months ago they would’ve actually made a “cute” couple but now, no way. me and kazi, are just friends, i’ve said before he’s like a cousin to me. and fitz and gia were a couple weren’t they? or am i wrong?

madi: well first of all, adrian and toni were never a couple i believe so? just like kazi and you, right? a troll sent yall names and people just decided to go for you guys. as for fitz and gia, they were together for a long time and were very cute, so i understand why some people voted for them. 

sabine: well that’s a wrap on our very first podcast. thank you so much for tuning in, and next week we’ll have a special guest joining us. madi, will you sign us off?

madi: it would be an honor! thank you everyone for listening to us! i hope to see you all during the press tour, we’re madison & sabine from the hills, blonde and had too much bubbly so it’s time to say goodbye and we’ll see you next time!