You know, when i made this video i was being silly, admittedly, but the tears. The tears were certainly not intentional. They came from a much deeper place. Looking back to the parts of my childhood I don’t discuss often, i was raised in a household with an abusive father. A mother who just wanted to do her best. People on the outside looking in, don’t understand the specific struggles of a Southern Black Christian woman. The cultural ideas forced in their head from birth that make them
Feel that their worth is determined more by the man they are with than the merit of her own actions. You hear it from your mother, father, preacher, husband, and then if the cycle hits in full effect, you’ll hear it from yourself passing it down to your children. I don’t know what it’s like to be a hurt black woman, but i know what its like to be raised by one. And i swear, even if those ideas are deeply ingrained into her mentality, you hurt her deep enough and survival kicks in quicker than anything else. Make her a mother and triple that. Those tears came from the child who watched that transition firsthand. A southern christian black woman who risked what she thought defined her to protect herself and her children. Who finally said “enough.” Had no idea what her next actions would be, but she knew it couldn’t go on like things were. That boy saw that same fire in Beyonce. Watching her swing a bat around, realizing SHE defines her. And SHE is needed by HIM not the reciprocal. My mom got beat for anything, most times it was something she intentionally did to get my father to stop beating me. Finally, She put her foot down, grabbed me, and said “james, lets go.” So there we were, in my grandparents’ condo. Nothing but ramen noodles and each other. She cried, not thinking about “US” and “OUR” situation, but MINE. She risked it all to set us free and make sure no matter how I turned out, it wouldn’t be like him. My dad was certainly not “married to the average bxtch, boy!” Cus thats when she was able to realize SHE was the breadwinner, she was paying all the bills, HIS car note. Everything this nigga was tryna stunt on was hers. He had a rude awakening when that stopped. Beyonce saying “me and my baby gon be alright” shook my soul, because that’s what my mom would say on the phone with my dad begging for her to come back. She had to realized she was invincible, but he had to acknowledge it. My mom didn’t run around the city swinging a bat or any huge display of pain and anger, but in her own right, she “effed up his shxt.” Just like Beyonce chose to forgive Jay in the end, my mom eventually forgave my father. But one thing people tend to gloss over when a black woman gives a man a second chance. That second chance is on her terms. After being hurt and realizing she runs things, SHE calls the shots. My father had to start paying for his weight, not be a third child. He had to go to anger management class, and counseling. Many steps and ground rules laid down by my mom. In many ways, he had to show her his scars so she wouldn’t walk away for gold. You see, to some women, they are fine with a traditional household where the man is in charge, and some women aren’t. Women are allowed to want whatever they choose. In my mom’s case she didn’t mind having her husband be the leader, but she wasn’t going to let that happen and be getting misused and abused at the same time. She was not going to settle for anything less than what she knew she was. A strong, powerful, black woman who wasn’t going to take any mess when it came to her and her kids. Beyonce took a stance not just against her husband cheating and mistreating her, but she took a public stance against one of the most celebrated men in his lane, ever. Now, granted, she’s one of the most celebrated women in her lane, ever, but there was still huge a shift in the power dynamics to be had. Liberation for a woman, specifically, a Southern Black Christian woman means to take a stance against what shes known all her life, what she believes her path to salvation is, and what she was taught determines her value. That can range from simply saying “no more” to your husband in an argument, or making an hour long music video that will inspire many others facing similar struggles to find a way out, by humiliating the one person who caused her pain. This works in every relationship, whether it be men in general, your husband, or even your father. I’m not the target demographic of Beyonce’s message, but in a way, i am. It’d be easy for me to watch it and say “well this isn’t for me, hope the ladies like it tho.” But the hardest thing to do is to look at what she went through. Look at what my mom went through. Look at what our sistas are going through. To look at that and realize. What they are all going through, is us. Black men. We can either hear our women’s cries for freedom and equality, or ignore it and act like it’s not us. But it’s not the white man going online calling dark skin women roaches. It’s not the white man saying “dang she do it better than these black hxes” when a white girl appropriates our culture. We can either look into ourselves and work on making it safer for our sistas. Or ignore them. But i warn you, brother. They will get what they want. What they deserve. Either we work within our lane, correcting ourselves, hearing our women or wait until they stop asking. Cus eventually they will stop asking.. And they will get what’s theirs. And the one enemy you do not want, is a hurt black woman. Not simply out of fear of what they are capable of, but out of love. They never stop fighting for us. When will we stop fighting them?
A/N: I got this template from chantenyongs and I could not find the original creator to give proper credit to.
A = Aftercare
Depending on what time it is Jinyoung would probably make you something to eat or get you a drink. If it’s like three in the morning he’ll get you both cleaned up and to sleep by three-thirty and cook you something when you guys wake up later on in the day.
B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Jinyoung’s favorite body part of his would be his hands because he adores how you go to grab them when you guys are heading close to the edge and when your grip tightens when he finds your g-spot. On you he’s a sucker for your eyes. He’s a firm believer in that whole “eyes are the door to the soul” kind of thing so he’s going to stare into your eyes most of the time to make sure you aren’t hurt and to see how he makes you feel good.
C = Cum
He’s a bit of a mess in bed so if he’s not cumming on your face he’s probably cumming on whatever is closest.
D = Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)
This is something so small that even Jinyoung doesn’t notice it half of the time. Jinyoung has a slight kink for giving you air restriction/choking you. Basically he likes to fuck you breathless, literally.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Somehow he’s a flirt mastermind but that could just be a personality thing that came naturally to him, sex was another thing. His first times probably weren’t with you but on the bright side it was just one person. He has dated a lot but he only gets more intimate if he’s serious about the other person. Unfortunately the girl that took his virginity ended up breaking up with him so he’d have a new approach with you. He’s more diligent and careful to make sure he’s doing everything better that his first time so he’s totally a trial and error guy who learns from his mistakes or shortcomings.
F = Favorite position
Missionary is just a starter to make way for his specialty, wall fucking and to be specific you two are just doing reverse cowgirl while he stands up. He knows it gives him more room to lift you up and slam his cock deeper inside of you.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Yea he’s a happy go lucky man in normal circumstances but when things get heated he feels awkward if he starts getting nervous and he’ll make jokes to try and calm himself down. It’s really cute in your head but he’s just getting more embarrassed by the second.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they)
Since he’s a known perfectionist he’ll be clean cut and shaved by the time you guys enter the bed room. He doesn’t want to mess anything up ever so he takes extra precautions.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
He’s a kind of guy that stats off romantic but gets fiercer by the moment. He’s still romantic about it but it’s hard to tell sometimes with him.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation)
Jinyoung makes sure everyone is deeply sleeping before he goes to the bathroom to take car of business. Since he probably has to share his bedroom with another member he wouldn’t even think about doing it in there. He also probably uses porn too.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
As praviously mentioned he has an unknown choking kink but another thing I can say with full certainty is that Jinyoung has a Master/Sir kink.
L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)
In the shower where hopefully no one would walk in on you two.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
He’d get turned on if you two hadn’t had sex in a while and he starts thinking about it.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
As soon as anyone brings food into the mix he’s done. No one will be staining his sheets with chocolate syrup and gets away with it.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
He’s a bit unskilled in the eating out field so I think Jinyoung would prefer you giving him a blowjob.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
He’s never really fast but his thrusts do get harder and way sharper.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Too much risk of getting caught for his liking. You can beg him forever and he’ll still say no.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
If this is not clear by now then I will say it again. JINYOUNG TAKES NO RISKS.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
He’s a bit on the low side, he might be able to last two rounds before tapping out.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Jinyoung might not own any toys, maybe one pair of handcuffs he has left over from a Halloween party he uses for punishment ;)))
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He loves to tease but he also loves you so he’ll tease for a little bit before getting to the good stuff.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He’s generally a loud guy in my head so sex wouldn’t make him any quieter.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
High key into being the sub! every once in a while.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
Sorry ladies, but Jinyoung is a bit on the smaller side of the spectrum.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Sex is a big deal for him and he puts a lot of effort into it every time so I can see him preferring to do it on special occasions to preserve the moments you two share together.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
This is a shot in the dark for me but I’m pretty sure he’ll fall asleep after you to just watch you sleep and wonder to himself how you still look good after sex.
so as of last night, girl meets world au month is officially over, so it’s time to reveal what i was working on for it!
summary: i hit you with my car and was the only one to visit you in the hospital, this is sort of awkward are you okay? au
word count: 2.3k
In Lucas’ defense, she was jaywalking. In Lucas’ defense, she came out of nowhere. In Lucas’ defense… shit. Was she moving?
Lucas pushed his door open and hurried over to the side of the girl he just hit with his car. Oh god, he just hit someone with his car. Another car pulled to the side of the road and got out. Lucas could hear them start talking to 911.
He was trying to remember whether or not you’re supposed to move someone who was badly injured - hopefully not dead, please not dead - when she groaned and started to stir. His relief was palpable. She shifted, just enough so she was facing him. Lucas slid an arm around her back, trying to help her sit up. Her leg was bent at a very wrong-looking angle, but Lucas was more worried about the blood running along the side of her face.
Hey! If this is your first time reading, catch up HERE!
Another long chapter, pushing 2500 words. Thanks for all the love on this fic! I love to hear from you guys, and I reply to every comment/message so please reach out to me! Thanks lovelies!
They didn’t talk about it, not the next morning when Steve drove Tony back to Peggy’s, or the day after when Steve dragged himself back to the library to study some more. He was surprised to see Tony waiting for him at their usual table, but didn’t comment on it, just said a quiet hello and opened his books.
When Tony ordered lunch, Steve handed him a twenty to cover it, and they ate in silence. But when Tony started gathering his things to leave at five, Steve reached out and grabbed his wrist, tugging him down until he could cup his jaw, his fingers stroking over the stubble there.
“You text me…” he cleared his throat. “Every time. Do you hear me? Every time.” Tony’s eyes widened and he nodded in understanding. “I will always come and get you. Every time. It’s not that I approve or anything like that at all. But I’d rather you be safe with me then on somebody’s couch. High or- or not, okay? Whatever this is between us is–” he cleared his throat again, “I don’t know what this is, but let’s keep working at it. So you text me every time.”
“Okay.” Tony whispered, his dark eyes damp with emotion, and Steve pulled him down farther until their lips met in a gentle kiss. “Oh.” For once, Tony was speechless, and Steve smiled for the first time all day.
Cornering A Small Animal - Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak - SFW
Title: Cornering A Small Animal Author: Donnie Fandom: IT Setting: Derry High School Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak Characters: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Patrick Hockstetter, Reginald “Belch” Huggins Genre: Humor/Romance Rating: T Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 886 Type of Work: One-Shot, Part of the Unintended series Status: Complete Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Fluff, Anxiety, Patrick’s presence is worrying, Richie’s trash mouth, Eddie is a sweet blushy boy, AU - Canon Divergent Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Summary: Everyone knows Richie is protective of Eddie, but love is a two-way street.
AN: I needed to write some Reddie, and this was apparently what was coming out. xD Whoops. I hope you guys enjoy!
A/N: It’s Satan Sunday!! This was requested by an Anon! I hope you enjoy this! <3 Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! I could always use more Lucifer requests! I love you all so much! <3 <3
Life was never simple for you. You became a hunter at the age of sixteen. Ever since then, you’ve been on your own. You never cared about being on your own. That is, until you met a fallen archangel; Lucifer. It was love at first sight for the both of you.
Since Lucifer was let out of his cage, there were more demons and angels coming after you. You were seen as his weakness. Lucifer did his best to assist you. He didn’t want to attract any more attention to you. The fallen archangel couldn’t put you in anymore danger. He loved you too much. Lucifer couldn’t always be there to protect you.
When Lucifer teleported himself to your safe house, he stood outside for a few minutes. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. You were his top priority. He loved you more than anything. Lucifer opened your door slowly, poking his head through the doorway. “[Y/N],” Lucifer called out. “It’s me, Lucifer.” He entered your safe house, shutting the door behind him.
Sansa frowned and adjusted in her seat, her feet resting on the base of Jon’s chair. The hospital chairs were more than uncomfortable, the back pain Jon was feeling deep and sore enough to nearly make himself check into the hospital as well. They had been at this for hours, the hospital slowed down by the influx of injuries related to the unfavourable results of the World Cup finale. During the time they had been sitting in the lobby of the hospital they had seen what seemed like a thousand angry fans who were sick with alchocol poisoning or who had gotten into fist fights with the other teams fans.
Jon looked at her out of the corner of his eye, sheepish, but before he had time to speak Sansa interrupted him. “If you apologise again I’m going to have to kick you!”
“I just…” he began, his foot twitching uncomfortably as he crossed his legs. He pursed his lips, as if trying to bite back the words. “I’m sorry!” he gushed. “I really didn’t mean to…er…throw you over the sofa.”
#TwinPeaks recap: episode eight – the most mind-melting, majestic outing yet
After this bewilderingly brave and groundbreaking hour of television, David Lynch has outdone himself. What an unforgettable journey
The death of the age of innocence
This was the darkest, most bewildering episode in the show’s history – but let’s try our best to unpick the unfathomable. Hats off to the executives who let Frost and Lynch run with this harrowing vision. I’m grateful for whatever they produce, but this run has exceeded all my expectations and now, more than ever, has taken us to places we have previously only dreamed.
With their usual disregard for conventional storytelling and pacing, it is fitting that after last week’s episode, which tied up so many loose ends, we delve deeper into the show’s rich mythology. It starts in linear fashion, with Bad Coop and Ray making a break from prison, the stench of a double-cross heavy in the air. Bad Coop knows of Ray’s previous plot to kill him, and Ray’s got some serious front to hold out for cash in exchange for the information he’s memorised. A pitch-black stand-off spells trouble for Ray, but he’s seemingly one step ahead and slugs a couple of shots into Bad Coop’s chest. Surely this will be the seismic shock to the doppelganger that jolts our coma-induced protagonist out of his dream state and back somewhere close to the man we love and long for. One can only hope! Ray makes a well-advised dash for it after seeing those returning ashen spectres (doused in scorched engine oil?) hacking away at the leaden body, and puts in a quick call to our man in Buenos Aires – the maddeningly still off-screen, and long-time missing FBI agent, Phillip Jeffries.
Pretty straightforward so far, but what follows is so mind-meltingly brave and groundbreaking that’s it’s arguably the most avant garde piece of mainstream television since the show’s initial run.
If you thought that scene sweeping up in the Roadhouse last week was agonisingly drawn out, this episode probably isn’t for you. But there’s no doubt this artful montage of all Lynch’s favourite techniques bears more weight than the inconsequential brushstrokes of The Bang Bang Bar. That said, it’s pretty incredible that Nine Inch Nails rocking up and performing mid-episode is the least interesting thing to happen this week. The soundscapes Lynch has put together for this run have been mesmerising, and most definitely worthy of donning your headphones.
Wow Bob wow
During an artfully protracted delve into the heart of a nuclear test explosion, we may well get the revealing origins of how Bob first appeared in this realm. Was that another glimpse at the convenience store in which these spirits purported to reside? And is what follows our first proper look at the White Lodge? We’ve unknowingly visited here before, in the opening shots of this series, and on Cooper’s escape from the Red Room over that restful blue ocean – but this is a more insightful encounter, that hardcore fans of the show’s Blue Rose elements have longed for. The megalithic outer shell gives way to Victorian music hall splendour, and our morally ambiguous Giant looks concerned at what unfolds.
It makes sense that Bob, who aggressively feeds on Garmonbozia – the fear and sorrow of human kind – should be spawned from a manmade act of humongous destruction. As a counter to this, the Giant casually floats upwards and spawns a golden globe from the electric tendrils billowing from his head and with the help of his Senorita, brings Laura into existence and sends her into the world. This is an amazing revelation and is either a counter to this evil or, perhaps more interestingly, a potential honey trap to lure Bob back to where he should be. It’s a problem that is an ongoing thorn in the side for the other Lodge-dwellers.
Ten years later and two teens looking to share a tender moment seem to unwittingly symbolise the end of the age of innocence as those ashen figures run amok, with their leader breaking into the local radio station to spread their foreboding message. Somebody give that chap a light! While your mind is pounding trying to make sense of it all, everyone else is having theirs ripped out with one insouciant grip.
The freakish toad-fly hybrid that crawls menacingly from the beach into the mouth of this unknown teenage sweetheart is pure Lynchian nightmare. Could this be a young Sarah Palmer? I’m not so sure but I, like many others, have learned that there’s little point trying to second guess where this show is taking us. Much better to sit back and enjoy the horror and majesty of this unforgettable journey.
Summary: Dean Winchester is a college student.One night he ends up meeting you and the same night he finds out something else too.
A/N: This will be a multi part story. Since I’m new to all this so feedback is appreciated. Thank you. :)
Dean let out a sigh dropping the pen on the open book in front of him and rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He stretched his body in an effort to release the stiffness caused by sitting in the same spot for hours. At the same time a yawn escaped his mouth and eyes became watery. He rubbed them again and blinked a few times. Looking around he realized that the library was most probably completely empty and he might be the only one still here. It was a little after half past eight. He closed all the books and started stacking them back in their shelves. As he was about to keep the last book back in the shelf he suddenly pulled back.
“Oh no. Need this one.” He said to himself.
He returned to the table where he was sitting and collected his things to go. On his way to the exit he gave a smile to the librarian who seemed to be as exhausted as him. As soon as Dean stepped outside the cold night wind hit his face making him shudder for a brief moment. He took in a long breath of fresh air and headed towards his dorm.
Unlike the library the campus wasn’t deserted. There were some night crawlers hanging around, some in groups while some were alone. But they all shared the same look on their face. One which Dean thought could be seen on his face too. Exhaustion. Finals will be starting in a week and everyone was stressed. They were out here to relieve some of that burden. I should too. And on that thought Dean retraced his steps to a quiet corner where no one could be seen. There was a large tree. He placed all his stuff on the ground and circled the tree, looking for a spot to climb it and he found one. Once he was on a branch strong enough to not break under his weight he made himself comfortable. He took out his phone and put on a play list to suit the mood and then just sat quietly, staring at the moon.
A few minutes later he reaches to his pocket to pull out the pack of cigarettes but turns out it wasn’t in his pants, he must’ve left it in the bag. He descended the tree and rummaged through his bag and found the pack in the front pocket. As he was about to go back he saw someone sitting a few yards ahead of him. It was a girl. She was here all alone. Dean wasn’t someone to just go and start talking to people so he turned to climb again but then he realised something. It was middle of the night and there is a person sitting here all alone. Well so was he, but he had a feeling that he should talk to her. Maybe she needs that. And so he picked up his bag and walked over to her.
“Hey there!” Dean said once he was near her. Startled by him the girl stared at him with fear and shock evident on her face. The smile on his face faded once he realised what he did. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologised raising his hands as if surrendering. Shifting his bag on his shoulder he extended his hand “I’m Dean.” She looked from his face to his hand and very hesitatingly shook it.
“I’m Y/N.” She replied with a small and awkward smile.
“May I?” he asked looking at the ground beside her and then back at her.
He sat down, cross legged, and placed his bag besides him. He took out a cigarette, placed it between his lips and moved the pack towards her. “You smoke?”
“Yeah, sure.” and she accepted the offer. He kept the pack back in his jacket and took out the lighter. After both their cigarettes were lit they both sat their silently. While she stared into the sky his eyes were fixated on her, noticing all her features. She had short, brown and curly hair. She had small but plump lips. And her eyes, they were big and captivating. The ones that when look at you it seems as if they are trying to read your thoughts. You do realise that this is such cliché and typical movie stuff, don’t you? The voice in his head exclaimed and he chuckled at that.
She turned to look at him, all confused. “Are you laughing at me?” not offended but amused by his gesture.
“Oh no! No! I’m not laughing at you. Just something came to my mind. Definitely not laughing at you. I’m sorry.” He apologised with a shy smile on his face. She shook her head and turned back to the sky, taking another drag of the cigarette she closed her eyes, tilted her head upwards and let out a cloud of smoke.
“Your cigarette’s burning away.”
“You haven’t taken a single drag of your cigarette. It’s wasting away.”
“Oh! Yeah.” He gave a chuckle, embarrassed, then took a drag and turned to look at the moon. “So, you come here every day?”
“Not every day but often. You? Never seen you roaming these grounds before.” She asked.
“Nah! It’s my first time here. Usually I go out of the campus to clear my mind.”
“Ohh” she said nodding her head. And then they fell into a comfortable silence. Carefully stealing glances at each other in between their drags so that the other one won’t notice. None of them spoke again till their cigarettes were over. She finished hers first and his was about end soon too. She waited for him to throw the butt and then got up. “It’s getting late. I should head back to my room.”
“Yeah me too. There’s a lot to study.” He said picking up his bag. “So… will we meet again?” he asked nervously.
“If we again end up at the same place at the same time then yes.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Bye Dean” she smiled at him and then turned and started walking away.
“Bye Y/N.” He sighed and made his way back to his dorm. The stress of the finals was somehow forgotten during that short interaction of theirs but it was now coming back. He didn’t realise but his pace quickened and he almost ran back all the way back to his dorm. On his way he checked if the cafe was still open and luckily it was, so he bought a cup of coffee and continued walking back to his room.
Dean was tired as hell when he reached his room, the first thought on his mind was to sleep but he knew better than that. So he placed his coffee on the table and decided to take a shower first. As the hot water streamed down from his head the tension in his body was released and the muscles loosened up a bit. While in the shower Dean couldn’t help but think about Y/N. Her eyes kept flashing in his mind. The way she looked at the sky, it was as if she was missing something or someone. Whatever it was, Dean wanted to meet her again, he didn’t know why but he wanted to talk to her again and just sit with her like they did today. “You shouldn’t get your hopes too high. You don’t know what impression she got of you, maybe she doesn’t want to see you again?” he said to himself. Letting out a loud sigh he turned off the water and got out.
After getting into something comfortable he pulled out the books he got from library and settled himself on the desk chair preparing for a long night ahead. He was about to begin when he realised that there was something in the book he just opened, something like a piece of paper. He went through the book and found an envelope inside. It was very thin, probably empty, he thought and opened it. There was a paper inside, he took it out and opened it, turns out it was a letter. He shouldn’t do this. It’s not for him. But his curiosity got the better of him and he started reading the letter.
I don’t know whom I’m writing this letter to but I just wanted to get it out and I had no one to tell all this. So I’m just jotting down whatever comes to my mind. You don’t have to read it. Just leave it where you found it. Or you can go ahead and read it and judge me all you want. I was just having a bad day and I wanted to talk to someone about it, so here it goes.
Have you ever been afraid that you don’t know where your life is going. Like, you see people around you, so happy doing what they’re doing and knowing exactly what it is that they want from life and taking it in the right direction. Everything is planned out. They are out there living their life. Enjoying it. But then you come back to yourself and you realise that your life is the exact opposite of it. You have no clue of what you’re doing with your life and no idea what will happen in next five years. There is no plan. You don’t know when you have to do what. You are just going with the flow with no knowledge about how to get a better life. To achieve what you want.
There are a lot of things that I want to do. I want to travel, it sounds cliché but I want to go to places unknown. Meet new people and make new friends. I don’t want to be bound to a place forever. I want to make my own mistakes and learn from them. People keep telling me what to do and what not to do based upon what they did and how it ended and I’m tired of that. I want to be free. This is what I really want from life.
But we live in a society where all this doesn’t matters. What matters is what job you get or how much money you make. You are even judged for whom you love. I’m frustrated because I’ve always been told to live my life how I want to but now here I am knowing nothing what I’m doing.
All this is what I want but right now with how my life’s going I’m not sure if I’ll ever achieve it and that’s what scares me the most. The fear of settling for a life exact opposite of this. For the past few months I’ve been having break downs more than often. My body starts trembling, hands become cold and my legs become too weak to stand. I cannot stop the tears and suddenly I’m numb just lying there with tears rolling down.
So whoever’s reading this, I’m not trying to spill my problems on you and I’m not expecting any pity or trying to gain sympathy. It’s just there’s no one to talk to and this seemed to be the only way to get it out of my chest.
The next day, it was as if nothing had happened. Well,
on the outside. When you woke up in Simon’s bed, you felt the atmosphere
change. Some unspoken feeling connected the two of you, and you didn’t need to
say or express it. It just was.
Negan had left to terrorize Alexandria, and that left
Simon in charge of the place. With Simon in charge, no one was there to tell
you that you couldn’t work, so you made your rounds to see which department
needed the most help. You were always one for contribution, and even though
Negan tried to convince you that pleasing him was contribution enough, you
weren’t having it.
Omg yay the ask box is open~~~ I really liked your Noya scenario with his s/o and Kiyoko, and you said Tanaka would have a different reaction? Could you do an imagine on what would happen if Tanaka was in Noya's place plz??
OMG, ANON, I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED.
So, this is my opinion. As an older sister of a stupid younger brother, I might have a different take that others. So, I love the dork to death and 12/10 times I will take his side in a heartbeat, but I’m also the type of sister that’ll let him know when he’s doing something shitty. And I’m nowhere near as forthcoming as Saeko is, so I have no doubt that she’s a part of this situation in Tanaka’s case.
Anyway, hope you enjoy, Anon!
Chewing on the inside of his lip had never been a habit for Tanaka before, then again he didn’t think that there was a time before this when he had been nearly as nervous. Sure, coming home with bad grades wasn’t great and the anticipation of a game got his adrenaline going, but this… this was something else entirely. He just hoped that he hadn’t screwed things up too much.
Spotting them on one of the many benches that were littered around campus, he found himself freezing. How many days had it been since they had spoken to him? And how long had he actually let them sulk in their own thoughts and pain without giving any kind of consolation? He had been stupid, way stupid, and Saeko wasn’t going to let him forget it anytime soon.
In the end, he would have to thank his sister - whether this turned out well or didn’t - for showing him just how much of a jackass he had been. Licking at his lips, he tried to stop his heart from beating so quickly in his chest, but it was terrifying… what were they going to say?
Shoving his nerves aside, he stepped forward on numb legs, hands shoved deep into his pockets in an attempt to keep the fact that he was shaking a secret - though from them or himself he wasn’t quite sure. When he seated himself next to them, he remained silent, his eyes dropping to the space he had left and quickly closed it; he didn’t want the small gap confirming any thoughts that might be circling in their head. Nothing was said for a moment and neither of them moved, their gazes remaining fixated on the mass of teenagers wondering the quad. And, shit, now that he had actually gotten this far, what was he supposed to say? He had too many things he wanted to say, but couldn’t bring his mind to settle on any one of them in that moment.
“I miss you,” he finally decided, his voice coming out much smaller than he had ever thought possible for himself.
Another beat of quiet passed before they scoffed, the sound stabbing at his heart. “Sure you do,” was their answer, their voice laced with their anger - their hurt - and he couldn’t blame them nor would he ever. This was his mistake, he’d take whatever came his way.
“Of course I–” he let the sentence fall away. This wasn’t about trying to prove anything, this was about apologizing. About laying his mistakes at their feet and hoping that they’d still want him despite them. He couldn’t stop the small groan - or was it a sob - that came up his throat, his hands coming from his pockets to shove the heels of his palms against his eyes. Body leaning forward, he rested his elbows to his knees, heart beating too fast, blood rushing too quickly past his ears. How was he supposed to make this right? “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” they weren’t about to just give it to him, this wasn’t something he was going to be able to get a free pass from and he didn’t expect one. They wanted him to address it himself, just as Saeko finally pushed him to do.
“For–” Tanaka paused, raising himself again, his hands gripping tightly at his pants as he brought his misty eyes to meet with theirs. He’s do this right, “For being a shitty boyfriend.” Their expression remained neutral as he found himself falling apart before them, the fear of potentially losing them was way too real and tangible, it hurt so badly. He couldn’t even imagine what they were going through when he was doing what he did. “I’ve been stupid, flirting with Kiyoko as I did before I was with you. For thinking that it could be the same despite your feelings. I…” his lip trembled, but he wouldn’t allow himself to look away even with the threat of tears coming forward. Let them see. Let them see just how much they meant to him.
“I love you and… and I don’t want my stupid ass mistake to be the reason I lose you,” his hand reaching forward hesitantly to take theirs, his fingers gripping tightly in fear that if he gave any they would disappear forever. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll try harder. I’ll do better.”
A long moment passed when there was nothing said and Tanaka finally allowed his eyes to drop away to his lap, his heart falling with it. He didn’t know what else to do, he didn’t know how else to make this better. He’d do anything. They just had to say the word.
“I love you too,” their voice finally came, tinged with the same emotions that had conquered him. When his head shot up, his watering eyes met with theirs and he stared with his mouth open. That… that was a good sign? They smiled then, so bright and beautiful and everything he needed that he found himself crying harder, body moving forward to let himself be wrapped in their arms.
“I love you,” he repeated the words, nothing else able to come out then and, really, he didn’t want anything else to be said in that moment. Because he did love them and he promised he’d never let anything make them doubt that again.
A/N: Hello hello! This is kind of funny because it’s for both @mrsbatesmotel53 and her Motel Playlist Challenge, and @iwantthedean‘s YouAU Challenge played well into the little bit of mind-fuckery that takes place in this fic. Just to clarify, this is a third part of the Love’s Soldier series. Reading the first two definitely helps. This gets kinda dark pretty damn quick.
Still taking prompts? Would love a one-shot of Michael first discovering Sara's origami crane tattoo 😊 And thank you so much for writing us all these lovely stories!
The Second First Time
A/N: In this missing scene fic, I’m attempting to fulfill the above prompt, plus the others that asked for the scene I skipped in Afterward, during Michael and Sara’s second night back together (the first night being the one they all spent trying to soothe Mike in his room.) NSFW.
Michael lay awake in the guest room, staring at the ceiling, trying and failing not to feel out of place, amateurish as a parent, and inconvenient. Sara had sent him to bed, promising him there was nothing he could do. That Mike would wear himself out eventually. “After I get him to sleep, I’ll come join you,” she’d said, looking anywhere but at him.
But all was quiet upstairs, finally, and she wasn’t here. He wavered between going in search of her and giving her space. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine the conflict she must feel, the questions she must have, perhaps even the doubt she might harbor. Could he blame her, if she had decided to retreat to her bedroom alone? If she had had second thoughts? If he had any chance of making this work, he needed to be understanding and flexible and willing to wait. Right? But then he remembered her words in Greece, whispered into his ear as they’d parted. Words echoed just the night before, as he’d sat miserably against Mike’s wall. Come back to us. Don’t leave us.
Danny starts getting calls from some telemarketer, and normally he just hangs up on them, but one day he’s in a really foul mood when they call and he yells at them in the ghost language by accident. When he hangs up he notices Sam and Tucker staring at him and he snaps “What? This guy’s been calling me every single day this week!” and Tucker says “Dude, you were speaking ghost again.” and Danny’s like “Really? Huh.” because like you’d figure he might notice sometime, but it’s not like this hasn’t happened before.
He growled, looking at the heavy metal cuffs around his wrists, traveling up and over to cover his hands so that they didn’t move. A smart move on their part. A dumb move for underestimating them on his. He should’ve known better than to get too comfortable and think he knew all their moves.
“Stupid,” he huffed, leaning back against the metal chair in the stark white room allowing his thoughts to wander while he waited.
Maybe he was getting tired of all this.
The thieving business was getting a bit stale over the years. Meet this client. Steal this thing from that building. Possible run in with some kind of authority. Fight. Run. Disappear. Get paid. Rinse, repeat. Perhaps it was time for something-.
My roommate’s boyfriend is staying over so can I please sleep on your floor - Ziam please
Hello once again my beautiful anon. Thank you for another amazing prompt, all this writing is really helping me out.
Zayn knew he was going to get little to no sleep the minute Louis announced that Harry was coming home. Harry had spent the last six weeks in some exotic location for some archeological dig for school. Zayn didn’t know why someone would willingly fly halfway across the world to play in some dirt, but to each is own. Louis was miserable for those entire six weeks, more miserable than he usually was. Moaning and groaning about how he missed his boyfriend and how he kept missing his calls because of the time difference. It was aggravating and most nights Zayn had to console his friend while he pretended he wasn’t crying himself to sleep over everything. Now things were changing quickly. Harry’s flight was set to arrive that night and instead of going back home he was coming right to his and Louis’s flat. Louis muttered something about taking a long sabbatical from work to make up for lost time. Whatever he meant, Zayn didn’t really want a front row seat for it. He willed himself to fall asleep early, like as soon as Louis left for the airport early. He was a night owl, he got his best work done as the sun was about to rise. Now he was forcing himself to sleep before the sun was even fully set. Louis was going to owe him big time for this.
Miraculously Zayn actually fell asleep, sadly it didn’t last long. He checked his phone to see the time and was shocked to learn that it was only midnight. He tried to listen to see if Louis had returned from then airport with Harry. It was quiet in the flat, too quiet actually. Like all good things in Zayn’s life, the silence didn’t last very long. Sure enough he started to hear hushed voices followed by Harry’s loud laugh. He loved Louis, he really did, but tonight he hated that he shared a wall with his best mate. Luckily all that he was hearing from the room next door was laughter but the rational part of Zayn’s mind knew that probably wasn’t going to last much longer. He couldn’t blame Harry and Louis though, they just spent the last six weeks apart, the deserved their reunion time. Zayn just wished it wasn’t in his flat but then again Harry also had a flatmate that he more than likely didn’t want to disturb with being up all hours of the night. Now that he had a few moments of clear thinking Zayn realized he should’ve just crashed with Niall instead of being cooped up in his room all night. It was too late now and he was too tired to pack up a few things and make the trek across town.
Zayn tossed and turned a few times, trying to find a comfortable position. He repositioned his pillows so one was covering his ears at all time, just in case he heard anything. Nothing was working or helping him get back to sleep. He could put in his headphones and have the music drown out whatever noise was coming from the next room but the only way Zayn could fall asleep was with complete silence. Music was great to drown out the constant noise in his life during the day but at night he needed to hear a pin drop to actually fall asleep. It was useless. Nothing was helping or working. With a defeated sigh escaping his lips he stood up, grabbing his favorite blanket and made his way out his bedroom. He tip toed his way around the article of clothing thrown around he floor and Harry’s luggage resting against the couch. Yeah, he needed to get out of here and fast if he was going to get any sleep. One problem though. Where was he going to go? He and Louis weren’t the best of tenants, meaning a lot of his neighbors didn’t really like him.
The apartment next to theirs was Mr. Franklin who was a nice old man, a widower, kept to himself much. He must have an extra bedroom or couch for Zayn to crash on. Zayn stood outside his apartment door, his blanket draped around his shoulders as he scanned all the doors around him. Mr. Franklin was a nice man but his flat always had a fishy smell coming from it at all hours of the day. If he made the hallway smell as bad as it did he couldn’t imagine what his actual home smelt like. There went that option. Onto the next one. For the life of him Zayn couldn’t recall the names of anymore of his neighbors, maybe that’s why he and Louis were hated so much by everyone. The only reason he knew Mr. Franklin was because of his fishy smell, a real great way to remember people. Zayn was about to give up and just sleep up against the wall, at this point uncomfortable sleep was better than not sleeping at all. That was until he remembered that he and Louis had gotten a new neighbor recently. A young guy, Zayn had seen him downstairs doing laundry not too long ago. He was cute and he Zayn knew for a fact that he had a couch, Niall had helped him carry it up the stairs when he was moving it. Jackpot. It was a fall proof situation.
Swallowing his pride Zayn gripped his blanket tighter before knocking on his young neighbors door. Hoping and praying he was either still awake or could hear the knock. He shuffled back and forth from foot to foot as he waiting, stifling a yawn. He looked at his own front door and hoped Louis and Harry were enjoying themselves while he was miserable.
Zayn’s head shot forward as the door opened. “Hi. You don’t know me but I need your couch.”
“Excuse me?” The man asked, rubbing at his eyes. It was obvious that Zayn had woken him up, his hair was askew, falling flat on his head. The dead give away? He was just standing there in a pair of boxer briefs.
“I need your couch,” he repeated like it was a statement he said daily. Zayn didn’t notice when this lad moved in but wow he was beautiful. Beautiful wasn’t an adjective he used often, especially to describe another guy, but it was the only one that truly fit.
“For?” He prompted him. He scratched at his bare stomach and blushed once he realized he was just standing around in his pants.
“My best friends boyfriend is staying over,” he sighed. “They haven’t seen each other in six weeks so they’re making up for lost time, if your catch my drift.”
“And why do you need my couch?” He asked, still confused.
“Or floor,” Zayn added. “My walls are thin and I love Lou but that’s a side of him I don’t really want to hear, you know?”
The bloke stood there, blinking a few times to wake himself up and try to understand Zayn’s request. He opened his mouth to speak again but closed it quickly. Maybe it was being woken up while he was in a deep sleep but this whole situation was bizarre.
“I was going to ask Mr. Franklin but his place smells like fish,” Zayn explained, letting out a laugh as he spoke. This was all a bit surreal, something you only saw in movies.
“It does!” The guy exclaimed in agreement. “I was always wondering where that smell came from when I first moved in. It’s ridiculous.”
“So, can I crash?” He asked again, purposely batting his eyelashes at the bloke. He was desperate at this point and really tired. “I’ll be out by morning, you won’t even notice I’m there. Promise.”
“Fine,” he eventually gave in with a defeated sigh, opening his door further for both of them to enter. “I assume the set up is the same as yours. Couch isn’t that comfortable.”
“It’s fine,” Zayn told him with a shrug. “Umm I-I never got what your name was.”
“Liam,” he introduced himself, offering his hand for Zayn to shake. “You’re Zayn, right?”
“That’s me,” he smiled, laying his blanket down on the couch. “Thanks again for letting me crash. I promise it’ll never happen again.”
Liam was right in saying the couch was uncomfortable but Zayn wasn’t going to complain. At this point he realized beggars couldn’t be choosers. He tossed and turned for a few minutes, trying to find a perfect position to sleep in. He was over exhausted by the time he actually did pass out. He didn’t need much anyway, he had his blanket and that was more than enough for him. He woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed and ready for the day ahead. He just hoped that Louis and Harry were considerate enough to let him back into his place to shower and get himself ready for the day ahead. Zayn checked the time on the cable box and saw that he was a quarter past eight, way too early for him to be awake on his day off. He let out a defeated sigh as he stood up and surveyed his surroundings. Liam’s set up wasn’t that different than his and Louis’s, maybe just a little bit cleaner. Finding the bathroom to relieve his bladder was no problem. As he washed his hands Zayn was trying to think of a way to repay Liam for his hospitality. He basically let a complete stranger crash at his place with few questions asked. There wasn’t many options for Zayn, the only logical one was to cook him breakfast or something to that effect. He maneuvered his way around the kitchen with no problem, everything seemed to be in a convenient place to find. There wasn’t much in the way of food but Zayn made do with what he could find.
Zayn smiled at the sound of Liam’s stunned voice when he entered the room. He spun around, keeping a watchful eye on the stove. “Morning.”
“Are you cooking?” Liam asked, rubbing at his eyes. He had put on joggers before entering the room, what a shame.
“Pancakes, you had enough things to make them,” Zayn explained. “Hope that’s okay. And there’s coffee in the pot for you too.”
“Thank you,” he replied, walking around the room effortlessly to make himself a cup of coffee. “You didn’t have to do any of this you know.”
“I know,” Zayn agreed, turning his attention back to the pancakes. He flipped over the few on the skillet, proud of himself that none had dropped or burnt, yet. “It’s the least I could do seeing you let me crash here last night.”
Liam leaned up against the counter closest to Zayn, sipping his coffee. “I told you last night, it’s no big deal. We’re neighbors, yeah. It’s a thing people do.”
“Yeah but I probably sounded like a crazy person,” he laughed. “Asking you to crash on your couch because my best mate was getting laid.”
“We’ve all been there,” Liam laughed along with him. “So pancakes?”
“You didn’t have a waffle maker,” Zayn joked, placing the now fully cooked cakes on a plate. He turned off the skillet and walked over to the tiny dinning table with his coffee in hand. “You like pancakes, right?”
“Mate, who doesn’t like pancakes,” Liam responded, sitting next to Zayn at the table. “No ones ever made me breakfast before. Besides me mum and nan.”
“Thanks for putting the pressure on a bloke,” Zayn grinned. “I’m not ace at cooking but I do know my way around a kitchen.”
Liam gave him a judgmental side eye as he poured syrup on his food before taking a bite. He chewed and kept looking over a Zayn. He nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. “Okay.”
“You’re officially allowed to come over every morning and cook for me,” Liam concluded.
Zayn surveyed Liam’s expression for a few seconds, wondering if the boy was lying. He looked honest and sincere. Actually he looked beautiful, better than he did the night before. His hair was still askew, softly disheveled on top of his head. But now he looked refreshed, a good nights sleep under his belt. Zayn didn’t even dare looked in a mirror while he was in the bathroom, didn’t want to see what kind of mess he looked like after he woke up.
“I’m joking,” Liam’s voice knocked Zayn out of his haze. “Unless you want to of course.”
“Oh, I want to,” he blurted out. Zayn could feel the blush creeping up his neck and cheeks, how embarrassing. “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that if you ever want me to cook again I wouldn’t say no.”
Liam laughed and squeezed Zayn’s hand quickly as a reassurance. “I understood. I mean I wouldn’t argue with you if you wanted to just pop by whenever you felt like it.”
“Yeah?” Zayn asked a little shocked, blush still evident on his face. “I’d like that actually.”
“Good,” Liam concluded, sitting further back in his seat, placing his hands behind his head. “So we’ve come to an agreement. You cook for me and I flirt with you horribly.”
Zayn raised his eyebrow at the statement, trying to contain the flutter in his stomach at Liam’s words. It did sound like a pretty good deal if he was being honest. Getting to spend an insurmountable amount of time with a guy he was interested in getting to know, sounded like a winning solution. “Deal.”