mall this weekend


Abandoned L train subway station, Chicago. This stop hasn’t been used for around 10 years. It’s hard to see, but there are escalators behind those iron gates. This part of the platform is partially blocked off by the barriers shown in the first photo, but it’s still technically accessible because it’s in between existing stops. Photos taken by me 5/27/17.

Forever & Always | Peter Parker

Summary: The reader is best friends with Peter Parker and decided to take matters into her own hands when Flash begins tormenting him at Liz’s party…

Warning: Anger issues, Language, and Fluff

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Type: Oneshot

Requested: @pastelpeter


A/N: I have so many requests in my inbox at the moment so sorry this took so long to get up. But requests have not closed so keep sending them in. I love writing and I have all the time in the world.

Peter Parker made his way through the busy hallways of Midtown School of Science on a Friday. He approached his locker and entered the combination before opening it up. 

“Hey, Pete. You coming tonight?” Ned asked, coming up behind him.

“What’s tonight?”

“You know,” Ned replied. Peter closed his locker door shut and began walking with his best friend to their first class of the day.

“No, I don’t.”

“Tonight is Liz’s party,” Ned said with a wide smile plastered on his face. Peter looked away and shrugged his shoulders.

“So what?”

“Dude, come on.”

“What?” Peter asked innocently.

“I bet you a certain Y/N is gonna be there,” Ned added, nudging Peter’s arm playfully. A teasing smirk evident on Ned’s face. Peter shoved him away gently.

“Come on man. Leave me alone.” Peter couldn’t hold back the blush now seeping onto his face.

“Tonight is the perfect chance for you to ask her out.”

“No, no, no. I am not doing that,” Peter said, looking over at Ned.

“Why not?”

“Because she is my best friend and best friends are not suppose to feel this way towards each other. I just don’t want to risk the friendship we already have,” Peter said sorrowfully. “That’s all it is.”

“Mhmm, okay. Whatever you say.” The bell rang and the two of them looked at each other before running off to get to class.

Peter played with his meatloaf at lunch, picking at it with his fork. His chin rest in the palm of his hand and his eyes were downcast on the nasty cafeteria food before him. He couldn’t help but think of Y/N. That’s all he ever thought about.

The truth was, Peter and Y/N had known each other since they were babies. They had grown up together and developed an unbreakable friendship over the years. He still remembers the day he first met her, her pretty eyes shining at him as she held a small cardboard box in her hands while her father unlocked the apartment door next to Peter’s. 

Throughout the years, the two had become even closer. Y/N would sometimes spend the night and vice versa. They would watch Star Wars together and eat popcorn. They worked on school together and went out to the mall on the weekends with Ned. Peter had a crush on her since the day he met her but never had the courage to tell it to her face. And so he kept quiet.

He was always there for her and she was always there for him. He comforted her when she went through her first breakup, he comforted her when her mother died, and he comforted her when she wasn’t accepted into a college she really wanted to go to.

He was always there to pick her back up again. He was always there to tell her that things were going to be alright. He never let her down. And with every passing day, not one went by without Peter thinking of her.

“Peter?” He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up into Y/N’s eyes. She stood before him with a tray of food in her hands. “Mind if I sit here?”

He cleared his throat and shook his head. She smiled at him and sat down across the table from the two boys. Y/N brushed a strand of hair out of her face and pushed it behind her ear.

“So, are you guys going to Liz’s party tonight?”

“I am,” Ned said.

Y/N directed her gaze to Peter and tilted her head. “What about you, Pete?”

“W-Well, are y-you going?”

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“Then I guess I will come. Homework can wait,” Peter said, his lips forming a tight line on his face, his lips disappearing into his mouth shyly.


That night, Liz knocked on her bedroom door as she waited for Y/N to exit it. “Y/N. Are you changed yet?”

“I don’t know, Liz. I don’t really like dress you gave me,” Y/N’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. Liz had leaned Y/N one of her many dresses so Y/N would be able to grab the attention of Peter Parker.

Y/N had recently developed a crush on Peter and had only told Liz about it. She couldn’t stop thinking about his brown curls and dazzling brown eyes. She couldn’t help but fantasize over her best friend. Though Y/N thought it was wrong for her to have feelings towards him, she couldn’t help herself. Peter Parker truly was perfect in her eyes.

Y/N exited Liz’s room in a small black dress that hugged her small figure perfectly. A smile grew on Liz’s face and she held her hands out. A nervously look portrayed on Y/N’s face as she looked herself over.

“Look at you! You look so hot!”

“I-I don’t know, Liz. Don’t you think it is a little too much?” Liz scoffed and pushed Y/N back inside her room. She turned her best friend around so she could see herself in the mirror.

“Nonsense. You look amazing. I am one percent sure you are going to take Peter’s breath away,” Liz complimented.

“You think so?”

“I know so. Now come on, the guests will be arriving soon.” Liz left the room and Y/N took another look at herself. She smoothed down her dress and patted her wavy hair down. She double checked to see if her makeup was pretty enough and it was. Finally she grabbed a little perfume off of Liz’s vanity and sprayed it on herself.

“There,” she said, finally content with the way she looked. She spun on her heels and made her way towards the door, a bit of confidence emitted with each step she took. 

Peter and Ned were only ten minutes late but by the looks of it, they were probably the last people to arrive at the party. Peter looked around the room nervously, in search for Y/N. Ned nudged Peter’s arm and pointed from across the room.

There she was. All dressed up for the occasion. Peter’s eyes softened at the sight of her, letting his mind run wild. He loved the way her lips curved into a smile when she talked and he loved the way her dress fit her small figure perfectly.

Y/N turned her head and caught sight of Peter. She waved at him and it took him a lot of courage to wave back. “She’s here,” Ned said. 

“I know.” Y/N excused herself from the group of people she was talking to and made her way over to Peter and Ned. Peter’s eyes trailed up and down her body multiple times before she reached them.

“Hi boys,” she smiled.

“Hi Y/N,” Ned laughed slightly.

“H-Hi Y/n,” Peter’s voice squeaked. It had betrayed him. “W-Wow, you look great.”

“Thanks,” Y/N smiled widely. When she smiled, Peter smiled. “Well help yourselves to all the pizza you can eat and–”

“PETER PARKER! What’s up?” They all directed their gazes to Flash who was controlling the music for the night. With a microphone in hand, he began to torment him. “Trying to land yourself a date with Y/N? We all know that is never going to happen.”

The crowd laughed and Peter looked around, completely and utterly embarrassed. Y/N clenched her fists in anger, locking her jaw in place.

“Hey, where’s your pal Spiderman?” 

God, he was still on this? Every since Ned blurted out in gym class that Peter knew Spiderman, Flash has not been able to stop teasing the poor boy about it. Probably because he didn’t believe him.

“Is he in Canada with your imaginary girlfriend?”

“Shut up, Flash,” Y/N said loudly enough for him to hear her. Nonetheless, Flash continued to tease Peter.

“That’s not Spiderman. That is just Ned in a red shirt.”

The crowd roared in laughter and Peter stepped back in defense. He looked down at his feet because he couldn’t take the teasing any more. Y/N stormed over to Flash and pushed his microphone down.

“That’s enough Flash,” she warned.

“Come on, Y/N. Lighten up. I am just having a little fun,” Flash smirked. “Won’t you have a little fun with me?” He winked at her and that was the last straw. She raised her hand and delivered it to his face. 


Flash stumbled backwards and clutched onto his cheek in pain. Peter raced over to Y/N’s side and wrap his arms around her waist, picking her up and trying to hold her back. She kicked in Peter’s arms in protest.

“Leave him alone!” She shouted.

“Y/N,” Peter warned. He pulled her away from Flash as fast as he could.

“Let me at him! Let me at him! He doesn’t deserve to get away with these kind of things,” she yelled. All eyes were set on her as Peter dragged her away from the party, much to her protest.

Once safely on the curb of the street, Peter set her down on her feet. She turned around and tried to run back into the house but Peter grabbed her by her waist again. He hoisted her up off the ground and carried her into the none busy street.

“Y/N, I need you to calm down,” Peter grunted as she hit his back. 

“I can’t! Not until you let me go so I can go punch that son of a bitch in the face.” Peter set her down again and roughly grabbed her arms. 

“He’s not worth getting all riled up for,” Peter said, shaking her. She stopped right there and then. “Don’t waste your breath. He will never change.”

“P-Peter, I- I am so sorry,” Y/N said, shaking her head.

“Its fine.”

“I just get so angry when he torments you. You don’t deserve all that crap he is giving you,” she said. He released her arms from his grip and he smoothed his hands over them reassuringly.

“I know but there is nothing either one of us can do about it,” he shrugged.

“I just wish I could take a tree branch and shove it up his–”

“Y/N,” Peter warned. 

“Sorry,” she apologized.

“Come on. Let’s take a walk. Blow some steam off.” Y/N nodded in agreement and the two of them began walking down the street together. “Thank you by the way.”

“For what?” Y/N asked, looking over at Peter. He shoved his hands in his pockets and gazed down at his feet. He shrugged his shoulders.

“For defending me, I guess. Not a lot of people are willing to stand up to a bully.” Y/N stayed silent and breathed in the night’s cool and fresh air.

“Your welcome then.”

“Hey uh–can I ask you something?” Y/N briefly glance over at him.


“D-Do you–no–are you–going to–are you going to go to Homecoming? Or are you going w-with anyone?” Peter said, stumbling over his words.

“I was going to go but nobody asked me,” Peter stopped in his tracks.

“Really? I find that hard to believe,” Peter stated.

“And why is that?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Well, look at you. You are so pretty–.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at him and his mouth dropped open, realizing the words that had just flown from his mouth. “Well, I-I-I mean…”

“You think I am pretty?”

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah,” his voice cracked. “You are really pretty and amazing and so smart. You are the most beautiful and most perfect person on this planet.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” She asked, a curios look on her face.

“B-Beacaue…I…like…you,” he breathed. 

“You do?” Peter nodded his head, now looking down at his feet in embarrassment.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because best friends are not suppose to feel this way towards one another. We are suppose to be civil and accept our positions as just friends,” Peter said, more confidently this time.

“Bullshit,” he looked up. “I don’t care about being civil anymore.” She took a step towards Peter. “I don’t care about us not being able to love each other because we are friends.” She took another step closer, their chests now touching. Peter gazed down into her pretty little eyes. “I don’t care about any of that because I like you back, you dork.”

She reached up and cupped the back of his neck, bringing his lips down to collide with her’s. Peter immediately kissed back and wrap his arms around her waist so he could pull her closer into his arms. Y/N stood on the very tips of her toes and pulled him closer to her, lacing her arms around his neck. She wove her fingers through his brown curls and smiled against his lips before pulling away.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that,” Peter breathed, resting his forehead against her’s.

“Me too,” she smiled up at him. 

“Will you go to Homecoming with me? Will you be my date? Will you be mine? Forever and Always?”

Y/N smiled up at him and pressed her lips against his again. He hummed against her sweet and soft lips. His hands trailed up and down her back sweetly before she pulled away again. She nodded her head and smiled up at him.

“Forever and Always.”


@miraisnotavailable @johnmurphys-sass @lovingrevolution@francezka10@littlevelvethearts @preciousnewt @oceansideopus@imhereforthewaffles@slytherincoven @brooke-supernatural16@robberytom@onceuponateenpanwolfian @zepars @harrysbbby@bubbles2428@avengemenugget @dcnerd98 @pantelda@fuvkingkillme@chuckennuggets1213 @picquit @archieandreams@slythergirlimagines@mydoctorwho13 @phantasticfantasies@manyfandomstohandle@kendalardagh @crystalsinwater@learntfromamillionmistakes @aweways@harleyquinn500@problemforfuturetech @annoyingsibling @buckysprintessa@t-a-m-s-y-n @iamwarrenspeace @wonderlace19@morningisnotalright@thepahlm @tomxhotland @clairesrainbow@kvlsd @angelpeachamber@seriously-sydney @vanessly@xtrangerstan @mictapeandcoughdrops@sincerelysaraahh@midtownsciencenerd @castellagreen @durbanskulls@unicorns-and-pixiedust-kawaii @dreaxs @yourroyalyaverageprincess @tiny-friggin-human @ivy-rxse-posts@lonelyheartsandblackcoffee@tinycolorwhispers @k-baileyy @mary-19 @mischievousweasleys @i-thought-that-was-a-closet@avapandabae @ucchan71 @sshhayynna @llotrr@untitled4666@frostpuppy14 @skittleddaisys@johnsonxstilinski@avengersgirllorianna @amyyleblanc1999@timstephxo @hysterically-original@lisamnieto@thequaksonclackson @lamemirna@thatspidernamedmeagan@quokkatrash @m0ck1ngjayl0v3 @peter-pan-hoe @sigh-whoami @peterr-parjerr @captain-sherlockomg @daringbanshee @lunastarwatcher

Tag list is still open for anybody. Just send me a message or something if you want to be on it.

Jungkook: 50% Cotton

Genre: awkward shy Jungkook, 100% fluff, the lightest sprinkle of smut, based on this request


Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: AS PROMISED, BEFORE THE END OF THE WEEKEND. So because there was no setting suggested except “dorm,” which to me means uni is involved, I kind of took a little bit a lotta bit of creative liberty. I also added Hobi because… why not? Haha~ Hope you enjoy!!

Sequel: 50% Polyester (Rated M- as in, it’s literally just fluffy smut)

Originally posted by mrspreadinglegsjungkook

You stare at the silver, white, and gold fish as they lazily swim around the pillars, a sight that still leaves you with a small prickling feeling at the back of your neck. Although, the more you come here, the less you seem to notice.

Even though you go to school in the middle of a big city, it’s been a while since you’ve actually legitimately gone “out” in the conventional sense of the term. For the past couple years, all you’ve done is vault the turnstiles, sneak onto the train with a group of friends, and ride out to an abandoned, flooded mall. There’s nothing to do except sit, talk, drink, smoke, and watch as a few smart men occasionally come by to feed or collect a sizable portion of the trapped fish. It’s not glamorous, but it rarely costs money and it gives you somewhere to be that’s not your dorm.

Loud laughter draws your attention. You would recognize it anywhere. Jung Hoseok.

You can’t help but smirk as his new girlfriend yelps helplessly, almost slipping on a stray patch of slippery moss. It’s her… second time coming to the mall? If he keeps her around, she’ll get used to it, but by the look on her face, you’re starting to think she might not want to.

Is she prettier than you? You don’t think so. Smarter? Maybe, but judging by the name-brands she’s wearing, probably not. Better in bed? For the two years you’d been together, you’d only slept with Hoseok maybe five or six times due to complicated work and class schedules.

That might be why he chose her over you. Well, this is the third “her” so far, but you can’t ever seem to pinpoint the reason they would be more qualified-

Why are you thinking about this? You should be over him and his ridiculously attractive smile, contagious laugh, and genuinely caring personality. The two of you broke up half a year ago. Okay, he broke up with you and you are still a little put off by it, but he’s a good guy, a great friend. You want to hate how nice he is, but you really can’t.

Alright, confession time. Hoseok was the one who first brought you here and introduced you to your current group of friends, the fifteen or so that make the thirty minute ride to the mall every weekend. You secretly wish this wasn’t the case, namely because it makes you feel like you depend on him. But at this point, what can you do?

You love him, even if it’s no longer in the romantic sense of the term. It’s ridiculous, but you do love Jung-

“This seat taken?”

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When The Boys Are Away, Girls Get To Play

Request:  If it doesn’t bother you too much, I would love to have a smut with Sarah Urie! She’s my beautiful queen and I’m so gay for her. I’m not really sure what I want, maybe like a cute date or something and it’s your first time together? Or a threesome with Brendon? Idk man I just need Sarah smut and you’re amazing at gay smut

A/n: First of all, thank you for the compliment! Secondly, I love Sarah and I had no problem writing this

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wingwomen ch1 (trixya, shalaska) - lale

Summary: Trixie was pretty sick of watching her best friend, Alaska, pine over the school weirdo, Sharon Needles. But when Sharon Needles made friends with the new girl from Russia, Trixie decided she was finally going to give Alaska the push she needed into Sharon’s arms – and, hopefully, herself into Katya’s.

A/N: Someone prompted yesterday: “Million dollar idea: high school au where alaska and trixie are cheerleaders+ best friends who get crushes on goth misfit sharon and weird nerdy Russian exchange student katya who also happen to be bffs and they have to wing woman their way into both of them getting gfs” and I couldn’t stop thinking about it!!! Expect updates all this week, and Girls Like Dollies will resume at the weekend as planned!

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Inertia (M)

Originally posted by katherine8595

Request: Heyyy, saw that you were taking requests.. can I request a smut student/college!au with Sehun where he is your best friend and you hang out a lot, he has feelings for you and his friends tease him into confessing?

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Word Count: 2258

Law of Inertia: The tendency for an object to remain unchanged unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you scolded.

Sehun paused and turned around. “What?”

You held out your arms to the side and waited for him, as you always did every single day. Sehun scrunched up his face in mock irritation before he sauntered back up to you and wrapped his arms around your figure. You squeezed him tight and smiled into his chest.

“Can you two just date already,” insisted Chanyeol.

“You’re so cute together,” added Jongin.

Sehun shot the two onlookers a deadly glare before breaking away and looking down at your face, smiling. “I’ll see you later,” he said.

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anonymous asked:

OK this is gonna sound so creepy but I actually met you in person before following your blog. You came into my bookstore at the mall last weekend & you are so cute? You were excitedly squealing about the Haikyuu & BHNA manga and I kinda fell in love with u? But the reason I found your blog was when you put your phone on the shelf a notif for "voltron-messenger" came up and I looked it up later... What I'm trying to say is: Hi Spacefam - I have a huge crush on your mom she's so sweet & gorgeous?

ok wait…… WHAT??????????????

The moment I realized I became Sally Jackson:True story

So I work at a candy stand in the mall on weekends for gas money.

There are lots of people who steal from the candy stand.

To prevent this I make nice with all the mall rent a cops. Make sure to make them up a bag of candy every weekend.

There is one named Julius.

Julius I noticed only eats blue candy.

I go through all the candy only picking out blue candy for him. Blue gummy sharks, only the blue sour patch kids, picking out blue gummy bears, and if course the blue raspberry sour belts.

I’ve called him Percy for a month.

He has yet to correct me.

anonymous asked:

whats gretta have to do with patricks hair

What you think the Bowers Gang pays money to get their hair done? No, the mullet was Greta, those flawless Joan Jett-esque layers/root touch-ups were Greta, that bleach blond side-buzz is Greta, and she fucked up on Belch’s hair that’s why he wears a hat the whole movie. They go over to her house after school every few weeks for haircuts, etc. and when one is getting their Look done (which takes place in the kitchen) the others are snooping around her room or watching wrestling/MTV really loudly in the connecting living room. Greta and Henry scream at each other in argument until Henry feels emasculated enough to shut up, Victor talks to her cool and kinda hot mom about the bands she saw live in the 60s and 70s, Belch and Patrick snoop through her room and Belch sits on her bed reading love quizzes from her Tigerbeat magazines while Patrick goes through her dirty laundry for one or two things he can easily keep in his pockets and that she won’t miss. Afterwards someone has to sweep the kitchen based on the rules of “NOT IT” which can cause a serious rift in the friendship sometimes. Usually while the other three are arguing over who actually said “not it” last, Victor’s already done it.

As payment they have to drive her to the mall on weekends which SUCKS because its like more than a few miles out of Derry, there isn’t room for another person in the Trans Am so somebody has to sit on someone’s lap, she kicks Henry out of the front seat because she has to give directions and Henry is mad about it till like the next Tuesday (he keeps telling Belch to just memorize the fucking way to the mall but Belch is like “I can’t remember my 2s times tables, Henry, and I learned that shit years ago. How the hell do you expect me to remember how to get to a place outta town every damn damn week?” And Henry has actually shed tears at this rebuttal like three times. He hates sitting in the back. He hates it so much.)

I mean GOD dude you act like you haven’t been reading the private conversations that @nicholashamilton and I have privately on a regular basis and share with no one else about these things GEEZ.

Saccharine [V]

{{ adjective // excessively sweet or sentimental ; sugary, relating to or containing sugar }}

All I want for Christmas is you.

Fluff. College AU. 3,421 words.

Joie De Vivre Series: a holiday collab with @dreamscript and @zephyoongist

Seokjin / Yoongi + Hoseok / Namjoon / Jimin / Taehyung / Jungkook


College is incredibly difficult. You’re struggling to balance five classes, a three hour lab, two clubs, and a social life. It sounds crazy, you now know it’s crazy, but your stubborn freshman mind was too excited to comprehend that when you signed up for everything at Freshman Orientation. And most days, you feel like dying from the workload or moving onto Plan B: dropping out and finding a sugar daddy instead. But fortunately for you, you have your temporary salvations. They arrive every week on Friday at 9 PM on the dot.

Every Friday night, your dormitory holds a Cafe night. Cafe night is when a different sweet is given out in the common area each week. You usually have to come early because the line gets long fast and the food may run out. After all, it is free food.

And anyone who’s been a broke college student would know that the two most favorited words in college are “free” and “food,” especially when they are combined together.

“Hi, _______!”

Although, those two words uttered by Kim Taehyung may be your absolute personal favorite now. Not that you were biased or anything. Of course not.

Keep reading

Black and Blue (12/?)

Pairing: Jon Risinger/F!Reader
Warnings (for series/for chapter): Swearing, alcohol mention, alcohol consumption, (mild) sexual content, controlling/overprotective parents, general punk au warnings tbh.
Chapter W/C: 3,667
AU Summary // Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5//Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9.0 // Chapter 9.5 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11
Chapter summary: New Year’s 2017 is sure rung in with a bang. After an explosive fight with your father, the only thing that will lift your spirits is hearing from the very reason you fought – Jon.

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I just have to vent about something for a minute, before I can write tonight’s thing. I have to get it out. I have to get it on paper, because I know that sometimes when I write I can get to the heart of what’s bothering me, even if I might be…afraid to say it out loud, even to admit it to myself. 

My anxiety is bad again. 

Which should come as no surprise. But…I have this problem. And this problem is that I’m too attached to the characters. 

People ask me why I’m so obsessed with my anxiety and all I can say is that it hurt me in so many different ways, for years, and I didn’t even realize it. I’m still pulling apart the pieces, still picking apart what’s rational and irrational. Like it is irrational to think that it’s okay if I never find close friendships in my own life and I can write other stories and adventures and that’s just as good. Now I don’t believe that. But for the last four years, until about this past March, I did. And of course now I think that and I wonder how I ever could have believed it, but I did. 

And it encouraged what should have been a hobby to become a full blown coping mechanism-to become my life. Maybe it was just a coincidence that I started writing at about the same time my best friend started picking another friend over me for the first time. I’d always been introverted. Nothing seemed wrong with spending three hours in my room at night writing in notebooks until my hands cramped so badly they could barely hold a pen. I was discovering characters. I was writing stories and adventures that I could never have in my own life and in a way it felt like I was living them. I was happy. Right? 

Who needs real friends when you can make them up yourself? Friends that are always free and will never abandon you, who will love you unconditionally always and you can trust more than you trust yourself-created with a clicking of keyboard keys or a few strokes of a pen. 

So I wrote more and more and more. I didn’t meet any of my friends that summer; none of them set anything up and I wasn’t particularly interested. By the next year it was a routine-I brought notebooks to school. Life happened in the periphery. The story was what mattered. Everything else was just background noise. It doesn’t matter that you’re not like them, that you don’t go to the malls on weekends or that no one ever reaches out to you to do anything. You create worlds. You don’t need them. And I accomplished things that I knew others didn’t-twenty five notebooks, fifty, a 500 page story in three volumes, fanfictions and entirely original books, books 80,000 words long, 100,000 words long, 200,000 words long. Adult authors didn’t write as much as I did and they didn’t have school and homework. I was a writer. The stories were my calling, the characters my friends. I quelled any dissent, any sense that this wasn’t right, that this happiness wasn’t pure. I was productive. The stories gave me a purpose. 

So I told myself I didn’t need anyone else, because everyone else had friends and my peers terrified me because I was always subconsciously comparing myself, finding myself falling short-and I ran back to my writing. I threw myself into books and movies and TV shows so that I often could think about little else. The characters became friends to me, closer than the people I went to school with. Sometimes in my head I would even talk to them, compare jokes, rationalize with myself (because someone had to) and let them tell me the things that deep down I knew-that I was worth it and there was a purpose for me outside of writing. Writing didn’t have to be everything.

But after a while I wanted it to be because it felt like I didn’t have anything else. 

Especially when I got to high school and I didn’t know anyone but everyone already knew each other and there were cliques and I was so anxious around them that I (still) have a hard time feeling comfortable around them, have a hard time believing that the group that I hang out with likes me for who I am and isn’t just hanging out with me for pity. And I tried. I tried to talk to people and I joined a couple of clubs and I had conversations with nice people but I still felt isolated, even around others. Nothing really seemed to make a difference. Lonely was lonely, and the only way I could fill it was with words. 

I could write ten thousand words in a night and it felt like that was all that mattered. And that made me withdraw more, because it felt like writing was all that I wanted to do. No one else cared, so I didn’t either. Easy. 

And Dany was the best friend I ever made. 

So last year I decided to try a new approach-I would use magical realism. I would pretend that I was at Hogwarts, give each of my classes a magical equivalent, Sort myself into a House, and imagine I was in a castle instead of a school, a dormitory instead of a single bedroom. Together instead of alone. I imagined myself a group of friends. And it worked. It felt wonderful, because for the first time I actually felt like I could be normal. 

And then in February, my therapist said that was not a helpful coping strategy and I had to stop that. So I did. But I couldn’t quit cold turkey, and I called Dany back. One friend would be okay; one friend was not imagining a group or a world. Dany was easy, because book Dany was thirteen when I was thirteen and we could just age together. 

A friend was good, for classes and going to see movies and going book shopping and sounding writing ideas. A close friend. A best friend. 

It was wonderful, but it was also terrible. Because happiness like that is only ever half fulfilled; there’s always something that feels like it’s missing, that feels like it’s empty. But the only one I could ever imagine truly calling my ‘best’ friend was a fictional character because of all the history, because of everything I’d written and imagined. We don’t write characters the way that their authors write them; we always bring our own interpretation. And after a while, I fleshed my interpretation out very well. 

A friend who was imaginary. And I knew it could only be temporary. But it hasn’t stopped being necessary. Not yet. Every time I think about stopping, about even just letting these characters become characters, about not writing as much as I do, interacting with them as characters and not intrinsic parts of my life…I panic. There’s no one that knows me like she does and I can’t imagine abandoning my closest friendship and being so lonely. 

I know it sounds weird and you can absolutely feel free to think that I’m crazy or overdramatic, but that’s how it feels. 

I did that to a lesser extent this summer. Around the time we hit August I started feeling depressed about school starting and I wrote a lot more. I had lots of prompts, I settled into a routine…and I loved writing and I wanted to do it more and more because I love Jonerys and I genuinely wish that I could write 24/7. It was like I could write away the anxiety and I began to resent anything that took me away from writing, even just to get coffee with a friend. What did it matter if I was happy, when I was writing? I was making people happy, no matter what my parents said or that they thought I was being a slug and not doing anything. But it was only temporary. Now the season’s over and who knows when season 8 will be on.

So I have to let it go, to some extent. I can’t say that I’ll stop writing or that I’ll even stop writing as much as I do, but it has to be that. Writing. Not coping. I have to want to hang out with my friends, without looking forward to that smut scene I’ll be writing later or just wanting to imagine conversations.  

And that terrifies me. I’m not there yet. And yet I know I can’t really move forward until I do-until I can stomach the idea of having more balance in my life, until I don’t need to write, until I can put building friendships over the pressure of reaching story one hundred before I turn eighteen (though I’ve probably passed that milestone by now). 

It’s not like I can suddenly just stop it. It’s too ingrained. I can’t just give it up because I don’t want to. After so many years of telling myself that ‘normal’ teenagers are tied up in their own drama and I’m glad not to be a part of it, that it’s fine if I write other people’s stories without making my own…but I know it’s yet another fabrication. I’m so good at pretending that I can pretend even to myself. 

My mom is always telling me to write a story of my own (and never seems to realize that I do, I just haven’t had time because I have so many prompts). And this is it. But I can’t write it just yet because it’s not over. I haven’t figured out how to fix myself. And for once I can’t look to books for help because they all have love interests and I’m not naive enough to think that *really* happens to real people. This princess (khaleesi) saves herself, thanks. 

And it’s funny because even though Dany makes me just want to write all the time, she’s making me so much stronger. She’s helping me figure things out, giving me confidence, making me want to be something better. I haven’t worked out all the kinks yet, but I’m getting there. 

So no, I’m not in the same place that I was at the beginning of last year. Yes, I’m still anxious and worried and I have to confront this head on and I decide to get better. I can’t just survive this school year by getting through school and then writing fanfiction and original stuff and reading thirteen books a month. I have to text people and set things up and do a whole bunch of stuff that I don’t want to do and it all seems terrifying right now.

It was supposed to be temporary. Time to make it temporary. 

But it’s going to take a while to undo all of these thought patterns. And I’m still going to be writing because I love it…but it can’t be everything. High school isn’t meant to be this big of an ordeal. I shouldn’t be getting nervous breakdowns every time I think about it. And eventually I’ll find stuff that’s better than the fictional stuff. It’s not coming immediately though. 

This year is going to be another fight. But when isn’t it? Dany’s on an upward trend and I’m happy to say that I am too. 

I don’t know why I’m writing this, much less posting it. I’ll probably delete it after a little while. But I have to do something to cement this and put it out there that yes, I’m really doing this. Writing a book in a month is not the end all be all. Having friends is good too. 

Hopefully I can write now. It’s hard fluff and such when heavy stuff like this is clogging the writing pipes. 

Growing up with strict and homophobic parents: An actual conversation between me and my mother
  • Me: Can I go to the mall with [Guy] this weekend? [Guy is actually my bf at the time]
  • Mom: Who is [Guy]?
  • Mom: Does he take AP classes?
  • Mom: Does he have a job?
  • Mom: Does he live with both his parents?
  • Mom: What grade is he in?
  • Mom: How did you meet him?
  • Mom: Why have you never talked about him before?
  • Me: *answers all questions with slight spin to avoid coming out* So can I go?
  • Mom: Let me think about it.
  • Guy: Hey maybe you can sleep over too *wink*
  • Me: Okay I'll ask my mom.
  • Me: She said no.
liifting from the dollar store lmao

I’ll ost the haul tmr but mannnn, my aunt has been living with us and her dog eats anything smelly… (MY THONGS/UNDERWEAR, SOCKS, SHOES. dude i’m so happy i’m prolly going to the mall this weekend and i’m gonna get a ton of shit i’m telling you— Anyway, so LMFAO THERE’S, ONE CAMERA. AND A SIGN THAT SAYS NO MERCH IN THE RESTROOM… WITH ONE PERSON ON DUTY… OMG so i get a bunch of twix candy bags, and LITERALLY I COUNTED HOW MANY PACKS OF SOCKS I GOT- I STUFFED 10 THINGS OF SOCKS INTO MY FUCKING COACH PURSE!!!!!!!!!! ALONG WITH THE CANDY BAGS!!!!!! AND I GOT LIKE 5 THINGS OF EYELASH GLUE AND SOME NAIL POLISH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh and sunglasses i’ll post tmr cause i get my phone back but damn I did that in less than 10 minuetes! and then my dad bought me a pack of cigarettes with the money I was going to “Spend” on this shit bahahahaha i saved like, 20 bucks today. dollar store haul lmfao fuck you dollar store taxin’ my candy

I'm not her (part 8)://(N.M)

Her hand makes its way to rest on her stomach she strokes it lightly before entering another room. She comes back with a glass and something in her hand.

Y/N opens the package and eats something. After she finishes she walks down what seems to be a hallway.

Could it be that I actually lost her. I won’t give up until I have her back in my arms.

*4 weeks*

*Y/N’s POV*

It’s been 4 weeks since I last saw James. We had a few conversations here and there some long and some short. My appointment is today. I’m 12 weeks and I started showing 2 weeks ago.

I’ve been trying to avoid running into any one who is an acquaintance with Nate. Swazz texted me to see if I was doing better, but I ignore his texts.

He has also comes by the house, but I don’t answer. I feel bad and all clothes make my baby bump more noticeable. I suddenly get a text from someone.

To: Y/N
From: James
Hey do have any plans for later?

To: James
From: Y/N
No, why?

To: Y/N
From: James
Do want to go to the mall?
With me.

To: James
From: Y/N
Sure, should I meet you there?

To: Y/N
From: James
No, I’ll pick you up beautiful.

I blush as I see his text. James has been sending texts with ending be cute names. Beautiful, sweetheart, and love. I get ready and wait for him to come. I hear a car park and right away I know that it is him.

Before I can open the door a knock is heard. I open the door and I’m greeted with a panting James. I try and stifle my giggles as I watch him try to regain himself again.

“Okay don’t laugh at me now” he says as he grabs my hands and leads me to his car.

“My bad, but shouldn’t you be working?” I ask him as we get seated and he starts driving to the mall.

“I used a vacation day” he says like if it were no big deal.

“You what?” I turn to face him “you shouldn’t have used a vacation day to go to the mall. That’s what weekends are for James” I tell him looking at him. His hand comes down from the stirring wheel to rest on top of mine.

He intertwined our fingers and strokes my knuckles with his thumb. I squeeze his hand and in return I get a smile.

“Hey don’t worry I have several of vacation days. Haven’t taken a sick day or vacation day in 2 years, sweetheart” he explains as he parks into a parking spot. I see him get out and he opens my door.

By instinct I reach for his hand as we walk into the mall. I was pretty sure he would let go instead he squeezed my hand and brought me closer to him.

“So where are you going?” I ask him

“We should go to that Maternity store” James points to the store in the corner.


We walk in and start browsing through the racks. I find beautiful pastel blouses with flower prints or butterflies. There’s a hand on my shoulder.

“Y/N? What are doing at a maternity store?” A familiar voice says. My heart stops as I recognize the voice. I see James from the corner of my eye carrying a few shirts and sweatshirts in his hands. As he walks he looks up for a second before placing a shirt back on the rack.

I don’t even have time to answer before James talks.

“Hey beautiful, I thought you would like these pastel colors, right?” James says as he stands by me.

I’m facing the racks so Nate can only see my back.

“Y/N are you going to answer me?” Nate asks. I turn around and see Nate’s eyes on James. Nate finally turns to me and lets out a small gasp.

“Oh, I guess you moved on real quick” he says as he stares at my baby bump. I gulp and look at him not forming any words.

“So is this the dad?” He asks

“No, but you are” James says as he puts the clothes in the basket by my feet. I give James a glare until he finally realizes what he just did.

“I’m the dad” Nate says before placing a hand on my stomach. I give him a moment before backing away. The hurt in his eyes are evident.

“When? Where you ever going to tell me” Nate's  voice rises causing everyone in the store to look at us.

“I will tell you, but not right now please” I plead with him as I grab the basket.

“Let me go pay for those” both Nate and James say in unison. Nate sends a glare towards James.

“No, it’s fine I’ll pay. I think I’ll be leaving with Nate” I tell James as we head towards the cash register. I see him turn around and I do the same. Swazz enters the store walking towards Nate.

Guilt rises up in my chest as I see him talking to Nate. Nate points towards me causing Swazz to see my baby bump. His eyes squint as he rubs them.

I see his head shake before telling Nate something. I see Nate’s eyes fill with anger and hurt. He shakes his head before storming off. I watch him as Swazz also shakes his head and runs after him.

James hand rests on my back rubbing it to calm me down. I barely notice, but I’m crying. I turn into his embrace and let out a few sobs and sniffles.

I come back to my senses as I remember we are in a store. The lady behind the register gives me a look of sympathy as I pay.

I walk out with James behind me and we see Nate and Swazz sitting  down. Swazz is talking to him, but Nate just shakes his head. When he heard footsteps nearing him he looks up.

The sight of his face makes my heart break. Tears cascade down his face as he looks at me. I tell James thank you and walk towards Nate. He stands up and waits for me to follow him.

I have hard time trying to follow as he speed walks to the exit. Swazz is by my side making sure I don’t fall as I run a little to catch up. I feel his lingering glances on my baby bump.

I stop causing him to look at me confused. His face turns to worry, so he calls after Nate. Nate turns around and sees us and Swazz’s face.

He immediately runs to us and place a hand on the baby bump. How I’ve missed his touches. I say the only words that I’ve been trying to say all along.

“I’m sorry” I say to them both as tears come down my face. Nate pulls me into a hug. He mumbles ‘it’s okay’ 'we will be okay’ and lastly 'I’ll do anything to have you back in my arms’

qekitchen  asked:

I live for pastel taegi so hard that when I went to the arcade/mall over the weekend with my friend I saw a pastel pink shirt and immediately bought it thinking of those two

kfjfkdvdkdjdd omg

The Other Side Pt.1     By: Y.Black

I was 16 when it happened. One day, one instance forever molded me to the man I am today. You see I was on the fast track to either a casket or the penitentiary.  I grew up without a pops and mom worked way too much to keep tabs. I did my own thing since I was about 9, that’s when my Nana went into a home and I began flying solo in a sense. I was introduced to the streets by my cousin Jonathan a.k.a. Jon-Jon. He was a few years older than I so naturally I looked up to him. Jon-Jon was about 13 at this time if I remember he became a part of my everyday life. He was my care taker in the evenings until mom came home from work. Jon- Jon’s mom was a junkie so Nana had custody of him for as long as I could remember. When she went down he came to live with us in our 2 bedroom apartment.

He was the coolest dude I knew in my young 9 years. He had nice clothes and shoes, the way he talked was different than I was accustomed to. He had a gang of friends, and they all talked about having bitches and hoes. At the tender age of 9, I was being molded to see the world through a narrow lens. I was the youngest on the block and had no concept of what was going on originally. By the time I was 11, a year and some change in I was pitching like a minor league player with aspirations of making it to the big league. I was living way too fast pushing Nicks and Dimes, profit was the main focus, and soon after became bitches and hoes. That summer going in to 7th grade I lost my virginity.  I lost my shit running a train on a chick from around the way. The crew pushed me into the room and was like “When you come out you’ll be a man.” I didn’t quite understand, but I did what the crew said and took on the persona as such a man.

Everything changed that summer. The respect for others dropped dramatically. Me and mom dukes we’re clashing left and right, and I spent many nights, hell even a few weeks at Twan’s house. He was a part of the crew as well, we were closer in age though. He was a year older and we went to the same school. We’d stay up playing video games, smoking out back, and killing the fridge in the middle of the night. I became an expert roller fucking with Twan. He was more of brother than Jon-Jon. He spent that whole summer locked up on a petty possession charge. So Twan became a bigger influence on me that summer. His mom died of cancer when he was 8 and he didn’t know his pops either so we hit it off on the strength of that.  He stayed with his aunt who gave less than two shits about him. She just wanted the check that came for him every month. That day we ran the train he was after me. He lost his virginity the same day I did and to the same chick. We were close.

That summer we made it our thing to stack up for the upcoming school year so we could be fresh every damn day. I knew mom’s pockets were going to be tight and Twan’s wasn’t about shit. So we went hard. Even started growing a few plants of our own. We were booming in own right.  We skimmed from the older niggas, they weren’t as smart as us. They made their little profits off of us but we had set it up so we could do our own thing come next summer. We made due this summer and by the time August rolled around we had 1500 a piece to do some school shopping. We hit four malls over that last two weekends before school was set to start. Our business boomed as we walked home from school with more kids, namely high school kids. The older niggas in our crew were either all in alternative school or had dropped out so this market was ours for the taking.  We did just that.

We were the number one suppliers at Pascal Middle shit, and High before we were even enrolled there. Twan left to go to Pascal High the next year while I still had a year left in the middle school. That year my grades slipped some as plenty of days I would have to buck class to meet up with Twan to exchange product mid-day. We had a bit of a reputation, and being young we just thought we were popping. Little did we know we had eyes on us from the upper classmen.  Now on the block we had safety in numbers and here at school it was just us. This one day while we were making a routine drop between each other some niggas ran up on us and got us for our product and about 800 cash.

We met behind the corner store like we always would.  We dapped up and soon as the bags opened up 4 niggas hit the fence on our ass.  The first nigga swung on Twan busting his lip, I tried to grab the bag with the cash and take off, but a nigga clipped the fuck out of me. I hit the deck skinning my calf up.  Crazy thing is, we knew these niggas from passing. They were from another hood, but you know how shit goes. The third dude drew down on us and was like, “Give it up my G.” We had no choice, we took the L. We let the block know and they were like, “Consider this handled.” Jon-Jon gave me a little 25 after he found out what took place. He didn’t take to kindly to that. Plus he had previous issues with these same niggas. It was actually them who were partly to blame while he was locked away that summer.  Jon-Jon felt indebted to me too, on the strength that I had him straight when he came home. His pockets were straight and I shot him a couple OZs to get off to get right. Even as a youngin’ I was big on integrity.

Jon-Jon and the crew had us scoping the niggas hood out in two Box Chevys. We rolled thru maybe five minutes apart. We didn’t want to stirrup too much suspicion Twan was in the first whip and I was in the second.  We rode dark tint most of the time, one because it was Miami, and two we didn’t like niggas in our face. We pointed out the same niggas both times. We didn’t roll with them when they got busy though. We didn’t want them to know where the hit was coming from. Shit was handled and we reaped the benefits of the lick. The crew came up on about 5 racks and beat the fuck out of the four clowns who had hit us over the head a few weeks back. Twan and I got about 250 a piece and we were satisfied. Twan said he saw one of the fools a few days later in the hallway of school. He said that boy was all lumped up and had his arm in a cast and shit. It felt good that the homies went to bat for us.

Time went on, and things were rolling pretty well. We perfected our business.  Niggas got jammed up and went away, a few homies didn’t make it to see 21. We remained as low key as possible and under the radar. We both maintained GPAs above 3.0.  It was the end of my sophomore year when shit hit the fan. First it was Peanut, he got knocked off on the expressway on the way to the beach. That one hit the block really hard.  He was a solid dude. Jon-Jon took that one the hardest he and Peanut grew to be something like brothers over the years.

I went over to Jon-Jon’s apartment to check up on him after I hadn’t heard from him in a few days. Twan was with me as well. I had a key since Jon-Jon was like big bro and I often took lil breezies over there to smash. Come to think of it Miami Lakes had become my second home. I was at moms during the week for school, but mainly on the weekend I was here.  When we got to the spot the vibe clearly changed from the Young Dro that was bumping on the way over. As we walked in, you would have thought it went from day to night. Every shade was drawn shut, no lights were on. I could smell light remanence of incense that was over powered by the weed aroma. Jon-Jon was on the couch in the corner of the room, he was visibly zooted. He had had Glock on the end table, Henny in one hand, and a blunt in the other. He handed Twan the spliff as we sat on the adjacent couch. Silence filled the room for about 20 minutes before he spoke. He reminisced about the time he and Peanut had growing up. He laughed and cried, and we were there for him. After an hour and some change, Twan and I were able to get him out of the crib to grab a bite to eat. We got him out of that funk, but he was hell bent on finding out who did our boy in.

A week later granny took a dive and didn’t recover so she was gone.  That was followed up by Cam and Greg both getting jammed up by the law. They had a trunk full of work, we had just loaded them up for a road trip the night before.  We knew they weren’t going to be home any time soon. I felt like we needed to slow down. Twan felt otherwise.  I stressed that too much was going on and shit as way too hot right now. Reluctantly he complied.  We chilled for a few weeks into the summer, we were still pretty comfortable financially since we’d done so well for so long. Honestly, we still had plenty of loud still stowed away we just weren’t making moves like we used to.

Twan was itching to do something though. He would come to me at least twice a week asking if I was ready to jump back in. I shot him down often. He proposed the idea that we start running in folks spots and snatching what we can. I wasn’t for it initially. He went for it and made out the first two times. I continued to ward him off and tell him that he needed to chill. He stressed how easy it was and how I was missing out.

We were chilling one evening, over by Jon-Jon’s spot.  Trav, Twan, and Jermaine were there as well. We were just kicking back, smoking and shit. Everyone had been moving real low key. We got to reminiscing about Peanut and the wild times we each had with him. It was just a real cool laid back vibe. We ordered some pizza to cure the munchies we knew would be coming. Trav went and answered the door when we heard a quick knock at the door. He was talking shit over his shoulder at me as he opened the door. Two shots rang out and I hit the floor. I didn’t have shit on me, but I knew I kept a few in my room in the back. Twan knew that too. I saw him hit the deck as well as he jumped off the bar stool. I scurried along the floor towards the back. I saw Jermaine bussing back and Jon-Jon was behind the couch clutching, the sawed off 12 gauge.

I made it to my room and ran into my closet. I grabbed two sticks. I chucked one at Twan as he made it back here as well. I knew I had to hurry up and get out to help cuzzo, I knew he only had 5 rounds before he was tapped out; maybe 6 if one was in the hole. I heard a few bullets wiz passed the door way so I dropped down. I heard cuzzo cock the shotty again and that made me go in over drive. I heard him lick a shot and a nigga dropped as I was creeping down the hall way. I hit the nigga a few more times to make sure he was done. Twan was up high ringing out with the K. I had the AR clearing everything out from below. As I came into the opening I saw Jermaine was leaking something serious. I saw Jon-Jon standing to my left, he nodded and I hit the door. I ran out to the parking lot and caught two niggas getting in a candy painted cutlass. Twan and I shot the back window out as we licked at the clowns. They hit the corner and we ran back upstairs. I saw two more niggas stretched out on the other side of the breeze way. They were done for. I ran back into the apartment, I told Twan to check on Jermaine while I went to find Jon-Jon. I went into the back, he was bagging a shit load of cash. He told me to help him get it stowed away. It was only then did I realize he was hit.  I bagged it up as quickly as we could. Twan came in and helped saying Jermaine didn’t make it. We got all of it bagged up and hopped in Jon-Jon’s whip. We took him down to Jackson Memorial to be treated. We scooped Tasha along the way to help his alibi. Story to be told he was at her house in the Pork N Beans (The Beans), when some niggas beefing down the way were getting to and Jon-Jon caught a stray. Bloodied and still running on adrenalin, I headed back to my mom’s. I dropped Twan off and headed around the corner to my crib. I got home and ran the shower and basked in the water until it began to chill. I had watched the blood that stained my skin streak down the white tub into the drain. I was numb; my mind was racing, but no real formulated thoughts.

I got a text from Jon-Jon letting me know that he was cool and that he was about to head up the road for a few and get missing. I didn’t respond, I knew he’d be by to get the cash we bagged, I figured I’d just talk to him then. I wasn’t in the mood for nothing or no one. As I thought, a few hours after that text cuzzo called me and told me he was outside. We met up and he hugged me and for the first time ever he told me he loved me.  I didn’t even know how to say it back. He thanked me for coming through for him, and shot me a little over 10 racks to hold me over. He told me he would get at me every so often to make sure I was good. He dapped me up and hoped in the whip. Tasha mouthed thank you to me and I nodded. I watched him pulled off, the taillights getting smaller the further the car got.