this will probably be deleted soon but anyway

my therapist calls me a scapegoat

a black sheep

the living projection of my families pain

I am a canvas splattered with the blood of my parents trauma

mom and dad call me an ungrateful bitch

to them I am destruction

an untamable fire

but if I am a fire then my mother is a match

my father, gasoline

and I am not the reason this house burned

The first days are an emotional blur, joyful and exhausting. You cry because you’re your baby’s only food source and she’d starve without you, so helpless and small. You cry because you love her so much. You cry because you haven’t slept more than 5 hours in the past 3 days combined. You cry because you hurt. You cry because you are, thankfully, finally a mother with a baby in your arms.

People will tell you to sleep when the baby sleeps, and I’m sure it’s wonderful advice, but it is hard during the day. You’ll want to watch her and hold her and possibly spend a few moments interacting with your partner.

You might find it hard to believe that the baby in front of you is the same baby that was in your belly, that you’re finally getting to know the little being that you carried so long. It’s so surreal to finally put the name to the little face. It will seem more and more fitting as the days go on.

You realize that getting up to pee a million times a night while pregnant is infinitely easier than getting up to feed and change a crying newborn.

You buy a crib for the nursery, a Pack ‘n Play with a bassinet level and newborn napper feature for your bedroom, and then an Auto Rock ‘n Play. You even briefly try co-sleeping. Nothing works as easily as you hoped because your baby likes to sleep while being held, so you keep hoping and praying as you try, try again.

You won’t believe it when your little baby outgrows her newborn clothes and diapers so fast that she only gets to wear them once (or possibly not at all) and you have a stack of diapers you have to pack away. Then you race to get your 1 month old through all her 3 month clothes and size 1 diapers before those are rendered useless as well.

You will feel worse following delivery than you did while pregnant. Lighter, yes, but more unsteady, sore, and uncomfortable. You’ll get tired of smelling like Tucks witch hazel pads and Dermoplast numbing spray, but they help so you continue to use them. Along with huge pads and the hospital underwear because they fit and you don’t have to worry about staining them. Don’t be afraid to take the ibuprofen and Tylenol. Around 5 days PP you might be hit with a contraction that brings you to your knees. It lasts for more than 30 minutes and you wonder if something’s terribly wrong, if you need to call an ambulance. Most likely it’s normal. Things are all moving back into place and your uterus has to shrink somehow. Take some Advil and get in the shower. Try to breathe through the pain and use some of those labor techniques. You’ll wonder if you’ll ever feel better again. But you will, around two weeks out you will start to feel more normal. (After you’ve gotten over that sneezing cold at one week PP - ouch!)

You fear you’ll miss the teeny tiny newborn who’s just a few days old, but as she grows you’ll only love her more and more.

Towards the end of pregnancy you were probably so DONE being pregnant, but some weeks or months after delivery, you might find yourself missing your belly and looking back at pictures longingly. So try to enjoy it while you have it, and after, remember that the most beautiful part of it all is in your arms.

You’ll wonder how ANYONE does it. How has the human race even survived? It all seems so hard. But you’ll survive too. One day at a time.

You’ll look forward to the day she actually smiles at you rather than blank-staring. And when you get them, her first smiles will be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen and you’ll forever be trying to elicit them.

You’ll learn that everything takes so much longer with a newborn, especially getting ready in the morning and getting to the store. There’s usually multiple diapers and feedings and outfits involved. And that’s ok. You’ll learn to plan accordingly.

Breastfeeding, at first, is scary, especially when you find out your little babe has lost almost 9% of her body weight in 3 days, and painful, even if you’ve met with 3 lactation consultants and bought every nipple cream and shield available.. but this is normal. She will gain the weight back and it will get better. You’re both learning something new.. You’ll be so proud of every ounce she gains because your body did that.

When you’re nursing and she’s fussy or downright mad, you’ll worry and wonder: Does she have an allergy or an intolerance? Painful gas or a bubble? Is the milk coming too fast? Is she exhausted? Does she hate the taste of something you ate? Onions? Chocolate? Milk? You’d do anything if only you knew so you’ll try your best to figure it out.

The Moro/startle reflex. SO. CUTE.

She makes a lot of noise. You might be expecting sweet little coos, but usually a lot of grunts, wheezes, and snorts are involved. And mostly at night.

Sometimes Dad/S.O. will be the only one who can calm and soothe her. Try not to take it personally. Be thankful instead.

When you finally get her to sleep and go to lay her down she’ll stay still and quiet just long enough for you to think she’s soundly asleep and get back to bed. But as soon as your head hits the pillow she’ll start to fuss. It’s uncanny.

You’ll say over and over how she’s getting so big, but at the end of the day she still seems so small.

Your postpartum body will present a conundrum: on the one hand, you’ll be so proud of the beautiful life you grew but on the other hand, you might feel self conscious about the stretch marks and saggy tummy. Keep trying to convince yourself of the former.

You will want to go bra-less so bad, but won’t feel able to due to your new leakiness. Showers become twice as nice.

It will be much harder to eat. Or do anything for that matter. Food will get cold. Dishes and laundry will pile up. It will have been a couple days since you showered. Don’t worry, someone will get to it at some point. Get help when you can.

You may think you didn’t have much of a lifestyle before baby, especially if you stayed in a lot and enjoyed watching tv, but you will soon realize that even something as simple as tv-watching is difficult with a newborn. But she’s so cute that you (mostly) won’t mind.

You will love all her features: her chubby cheeks, sweet mouth and silly tongue, button nose, curious eyes, her tiny fingers and toes, round belly, and soft head. You wouldn’t trade her for the world and, already, you can’t imagine life without her.

You’ll fill up your phone’s memory with hundreds and hundreds of pictures. And will have a hard time deleting any.

The nursery that you worked so lovingly on while pregnant won’t exactly look like a nursery anymore when you realize at 1 month that she should probably be learning to sleep where she will eventually be sleeping, so you move the crib into your bedroom only to have her spend half the night back in the newborn napper in the Pack ‘n Play anyways. You’ll get a bedtime routine figured out soon enough (at least that’s what I’m telling myself, we’re still working on this one!)

Clean baby is the Best. Smell. Ever.

You’ll worry if you’ll be a good enough mother/parent to her and if you’ll be able to grow and nurture her the way she needs and deserves. Try to remind yourself that worrying about this is probably a good sign that you’re going to do just fine.

You’ll dream about your future together. Cuddles and smiles and giggles and story time and bath time and bedtime and trips to the zoo and vacations and first days of school. You know you’ll be loving her deeply for the rest of your life ❤️

—  Some things I’ve learned in the first 5 weeks with my daughter and encouragement to new moms/soon-to-be moms
2

Bias Tag, i was tagged by @pabo-reactions my pretty baby ♡

I will probably delete this soon, or no i don’t know… anyways I put DoJae judge me

Tagging: @dejanu25 @thissummerserpents @pustekookie @angrykittty24 @spicypancakedoyoung @jaeminniemouse @blacklioness15 @taebreez @kpoplife4ever (If i tagged you and you don’t know who i’m or why i tagged you ,i’m Admin Rabbit, don’t tell nobody about it lol jk)

What next?

Lately I’ve been feeling v overwhelmed by all the requests I’ve gotten in the past, which, as I’ve said before, added up to around 30-45 ish. That’s not including the 20+ official fics (on wattpad) I have to write as well.

When I thought about it more, I realized I pretty much accepted some of those to be nice lmao. I know that sounds bad & mean but if you write & accept requests too, you’ve probably done that too. (& if you haven’t done that but you’re still a writer, then you know how exhausting it is, so you won’t blame me.)

Anyway, I went thru my requests & deleted some that I knew I would never end up writing. If I remember, I’ll make an updated request/coming soon list for y'all.

On the brighter side lmao I’m gonna focus COMPLETELY on just my fics instead of even thinking of doing the requests. In case some people don’t know, I’ve been posting all of my fics from wattpad onto here, which I will continue doing. Here are the fics I’ve posted on here so far:

Distance - Dwayne J./Reader/Roman mate fic

Resistance - Dwayne J./OFC/Roman fic

Dominated - Submissive! Roman fic

Savage - Roman mate fic

Selcouth - Dwayne J./OFC/Roman sugar daddy fic

↣↣↣

Those can all be found under certain tags, such as ‘my work tag’ & ’ ‘insert story name’ tag’. I’ve also posted a good amount of preferences, one shots, etc., which can all be found under the ‘my work tag’ too.

↣↣↣

Here are the few others I’m actually working on right now:

Sold - Reigns Suplex City/Mafia AU, including multiple triggers such as mental, physical abuse, starving, and drug abuse. Bloodline - The Usos/Reader/Roman

Reign - The Usos/Reader/Roman mate fic

Deprived - Dwayne/Jason M./Roman x Reader mate fic

Want - Naomi/Reader/Roman mate fic

Insatiable - Jason Jordan/Reader/Roman mate fic

One Day at a Time - Roman mate fic

Coercive - Submissive! Dwayne fic *might change the title lol, even though there’s some thought behind it*

What I want is for y'all to tell me what current fics you want updated & what future fics you want posted soon!

↣↣↣

I get asked this often lol so here’s my social media:

Twitter: thiickreigns

IG: thiickreigns

Wattpad: thiickreigns

xo

3

Had a big downward trend in my mental health the last few weeks. I started taking some over the counter supplements for menopause and they seem to be helping. I’m going to talk to my doctor about antidepressants if I start going that way again. I definitely don’t want to go back into that hole I used to be in. (And I want to thank @timboallthetime for checking up on me. I don’t know if you got my reply to your message, Tumblr deleted all evidence of it when I hit the reply button.)

Anyway. I’ve taken a few hikes the last few days at one of the rivers near my house. We went from 50 degrees to into the 90s over the space of four days. I wanted to get out and enjoy it before it got far, far too hot. The river is too fast and still too cold to swim yet, but I’ll probably brave it soon.

Let Us Live: Part 3

INTRO PART 1 PART 2 PART 4 PART 5

Okay so this was really hard for me to write and I don’t have time to edit it but HEY IT’S LONG AF. I actually really like how this turned out and holy shit Ten is hard for me to write like? Why? Just a warning, this is completely un-betad, so forgive any mistakes/typos.

Anyway, please enjoy!

Word count: 5,263

Pairing: Ten/Y/N 

Warnings: Cursing


You rolled around on the floor of your apartment, sighing. The living room carpet wasn’t the softest, you noticed, as you laid still for a few moments. You adjusted, letting your face move across the course tufts of fabric.

It’s still uncomfortable.

“This isn’t working,” You muttered aloud, sitting back up. The carpet left your skin dimpled with the imprint of its pattern, “I still need to get that fucking key card.”

You pushed yourself of the ground and moved your ass into the kitchen, flicking on the lights, “Lit.”

So maybe you were a bit sleep deprived. You sighed, deciding to make a cup of coffee. Obviously, the best thing for massive sleep loss is jacking your system up on caffeine.

“I can hear a health specialist screaming in the distance,” You whispered as you poured a spot of cream into the charcoal colored liquid, putting in only a tad bit of sugar. The more concentrated the coffee, the better. A bit of music also helped keep you awake, so you pulled out your phone and activated Bluetooth, connecting to your speaker system.

Gentle waves of traditional winter ballads flooded your apartment quietly, just loud enough for you to make out the lyrics. You sniffed, taking a sip of your drink and jumping up to sit on the counter top. You checked the date.

December 24th, 2016, 1:00am.

“Fuck my life…” You took another sip of coffee, “Now… time to procrastinate procrastination.”

You picked up your phone, quickly skipping the song that began to play because you had over-listened to it – then opening up your contacts list. You had synced up a disposable phone to your home’s system, allowing it to remotely access the files on your computer, along with your music.

You pulled up Eunseong’s contact, typing out a message in the chat. You stopped yourself, hesitating over the send button.

I don’t want him to get in trouble again… Soohyuk was very harsh on him.

You shuddered, recalling his screams as you left the building last Sunday. It had been six days since then, and it was now the Saturday that you had to meet the man from the Black Blood’s. Your wounds had healed considerably, and all seven cuts were completely scabbed over. They had gotten smaller, too. They no longer spilt, bled randomly, or dripped on your floor like the first day. You didn’t know how Eunseong fared with his injuries, though. You hoped they healed as well.

You deleted what you had written, and sent him a tasteful meme instead. Soohyuk never said you couldn’t text him…

You changed chats, not expecting him to respond any time soon, anyway.

So, I can’t ask Eunseong… maybe Dajeong? Taeil? No… he’s probably still wanting to murder me… You had scrolled through almost all your contacts, but stopped once you reached the “Y” section. Hmmm…

You opened up Yuta’s chat, and typed out what you had planned to say to Eunseong formerly. You were asking him to call you on a private line, and to make sure he was in a quiet, secure place. After finishing the text, you sent it and set the phone down on the table. You sipped your coffee till it was almost gone as you waited for him to call you back, standing like a statue for almost a straight hour. The phone rang suddenly, making you nearly drop your mug. The music playing throughout your apartment stopped automatically.

You quickly snatched the phone off the counter, accepting the call and putting it up to your ear, “Hello?”

Yuta’s voice droned monotone through the receiver, “Why do I feel like you’re about to do something really stupid?”

“Correction,” you laughed, “You’re about to do something really stupid.”

The line was quiet for a bit, “I’m hanging up.”

“Wait!” You shouted, reaching a hand out as if he was physically leaving, “I’m sorry, I just really need your help.”

Yuta sighed, sounding tired, “Alright, what do you need?”

“I kind of-” You bit your lip, struggling to find the correct words, “I need you to steal the key card the Black Bloods were supposed to receive for the shipment.”

“Yeah, no.”

“Yuta, please!” You begged, “I really need it. Soohyuk doesn’t have to know. It’s really, really important.”

“More important than me living?”

“No, but he won’t kill you if he finds out. I’ll be the one to blame, I promise. Just hear me out.” You paused, hearing his silence. He was listening, “If what I have planned goes through, then everyone will be happy, especially the King. He can’t know, though. I’m supposed to be on hiatus. He’ll… it won’t go well if he finds out before I’m done.”

“I need to know what you’re planning.”

“I-” You bit your lip, eye twitching in annoyance, “I can’t-”

“Then I can’t help you.”

“Okay, okay, fine…” You moaned, “A Black Blood approached me, well not quite- but he made me a deal. We meet, alone. I bring the keycard, he brings the payment, we part in peace. That’s it.”

“This is stupid, Y/N. Eunseong would-”

“Eunseong would do it too.”

Yuta created a silence, then broke it by letting out a loud, conflicted sigh, “Alright, I’ll get the card, but I have one question.”

“What?”

“Who?” Yuta said, “Who got you into this? If something goes wrong, I need to know who to find.”

You sighed, he was right. You mentally apologized to Ten, “It’s the black haired one I stabbed.”

“What?” Yuta yelled, before lowering his voice to a hiss, “Y/N, you stabbed him! Do you honestly think he’s really doing this for the reason he said? He could be doing this to get revenge, or worse…”

“It’s not that deep, Yuta.” You placated, “This could save us in the long run. I’m favored, and with the payment, we could solidify and secure our pre-existing bonds and connections. It’s the boost we need to get on equal footing with the Black Bloods. I have a good feeling about this,” you begged, “Trust me.

“Okay,” he said, “Fine. Have it your way. I’ll have the key card for at around noon, give or take, if this goes well. I’ll send you a text if something happens…” he paused, “Please don’t hurt yourself, Y/N.”

“I won’t, Yuta.” You said, smiling fondly, “Take care of yourself, okay? If you think you’re gonna get caught, bale. I’ll understand. I don’t want Soohyuk freaking out and… doing what he did to Eunseong and I to you.”

“Yeah,” Yuta sucked in a breath, “About that…”

A pulse of fear spiked through your gut, “What? What happened? He’s not…”

“Whatever you think he is, he’s not that. Eunseong’s fine – mostly.”

“What do you mean “mostly”?”

“The King cut off a segment of his right ring finger.”

“Oh,” you covered your mouth, shocked, “That’s… excessive. Fuck, now I feel really bad. I mean, I already felt like shit, but that’s just the cherry on top.”

“Yeah,” Yuta agreed, groaning as someone called for him in the background, “Shit, I gotta go. I’ll slide the key card under your door or something. Bye!”

“Talk to you-” the phone line cut off, “…later.”

You bit your lip and closed the phone, glaring into the empty coffee cut sitting on the counter. You contemplated making another cup, but decided it best to let yourself rest, even if you weren’t able to go to sleep.

Now… time to wait.


You woke up at approximately 11:58am by falling off the hard counter top onto the even harder tiled kitchen floor, dramatic classical music sounding throughout your apartment. That wasn’t what woke you, but was actually the doorbell that had startled you from your oddly-positioned slumber. You had fallen awkwardly on the tiles, landing on top of your right arm.

Why the fuck was I asleep on my counter?

You were knocked out of your thoughts by the doorbell ringing two more times, the person clearly growing impatient. You groaned, holding your right shoulder as you rubbed the pain away, “I’m coming, I’m coming!” You muttered, “Irritating dick.”

Padding over to the door, you wiped the sleep out of your eyes, sniffing a bit. You opened the door, “Yes?”

“I have the key card, sleeping ugly.”

You glared at Yuta, snatching the card from his outstretched hand, “I thought you didn’t have time to stop for more than a millisecond.”

“Well…” he tilted his head a bit to the right, “Set the bar low and you’ll never be disappointed by life. I had to establish the precedent somehow.”

“That’s a sad motto, Yuta.”

He shrugged, “Am I wrong though?”

You snorted, giving up, “No, you’re not. Thanks for getting me the key card… I really, really appreciate it. Hopefully this will placate Soohyuk.”

“Yeah… gotta get those loyalty points,” Yuta laughed, “Sometimes I feel like I’m in too deep with all of this.”

You laughed, “Yuta, this is the mafia. You’re always in to deep. It’s practically written in the job description.”

“If we had one,” He snorted, “I wonder what life would’ve been like if I stayed in Japan, kept up with soccer, went to college…”

“Don’t think too much, Yuta.” You advised, “It’s not like we can turn back time. Our choices have been set in stone, irreversible. Just go with it and you’ll be fine.”

“I know that, but…” he sighed, taking a step back from your doorway, “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it before.”

“I try not to,” you stuck out your tongue, waving as he left, “Viviamos!”

He waved over his shoulder, voice quieter as he spoke in the opposite direction of you, “Viviamos.”  You closed the door.

Looking down at the key card, you relived the meeting with the King. Your leg started throbbing, ghost pain making you wince. You could only imagine how much pain Eunseong had felt.

Yuta’s kind of right, you thought, I wonder what life would’ve been like if I had never let curiosity get the best of me.

You tossed the key card onto the counter, slapping your cheeks in an attempt to smack sense into yourself, “Stop it, stop it, stop it! It’s fine… totally. I should be getting ready for the meeting, anyway.”

You checked the time, your phone reading 12:07pm. You had just under twelve hours to prepare for the exchange, which you defiantly needed. You had neglected proper preparations due to both legitimate and idiotic reasons, like fucking around on online dress up games or attempting to broaden your horizons in code.

You headed back to your bed room, walking faster whenever you passed a window. You always grew nervous when you were near them now, after that last incident.

Your bedroom spoke nothing of your personality, the grey walls blank from anything indicating a connection to anyone. Your dresser only contained clothes, and they were mostly black – just how you liked it. There was probably some color in there, but it was definitely buried under layers of dark cloth.

You opened your shallow closet, rummaging through all the shit you threw in there because you were too lazy to actually clean up. You found a chestnut, over-the-shoulder satchel underneath various objects you had forgotten about, like a magic 8 ball, an ugly cat sweater with a fucked up hemline, a tambourine from when you tried to make it in a street band (Keyword: tried), and some repulsive used tissues because the trash can was too damn far away.

“I disgust myself…” you muttered, your lip curling up as you cringed.

After retrieving the bag, you threw it on your bed and began to fill it with the essentials. You grabbed your gun out of your sock drawer, and tossed the weapon onto your bed. A CW9 9mm, you’re favorite little weapon. It was slim, had light recoil, and was small enough to conceal without taking away from the damage it could do. Eunseong had helped you buy it and even assisted you in painting it matte black because the silver slide was a little too obvious for your taste and lack of expertise. It helped, when you had to hide it under your clothes.

You tossed in your wallet, another disposable phone, some chocolate, and – of course – the throwing knife. You put it in there specifically to piss the man off, and a little because you felt a little bare without a close range weapon. You made sure to double check for you ID, not wanting to have the deal fail just because you can’t get into the club.

You contemplated sticking the key card in the bad, but decided against it in favor of looping the lanyard around your neck. You had to take it off in order to shower around eight hours later, but made sure to put it back on after you had cleansed yourself. It wasn’t hard to conceal it, the white lanyard and plastic hiding perfectly under the opaque black jacket you threw on. Of course, you’d seem a bit out of place in the club wearing a long black jacket, semi-flattering jeans that had lost a lot of their black pigment and were starting to turn grey, and your trusty – but no longer waterproof – black boots.

You attempted to “spice it up” by adding some pretty bracelets that costed you significantly less than a pretty penny, a thin, classy necklace, and some makeup. You let yourself indulge and do a pretty red lip, but skipped heavy eye makeup and settled for dark liner and minimally mascara coated lashes. You set down the lipstick, taking a quick selca with and obnoxious, over-the-top wink and sent it to Yuta. He gave you a concise response, “Minimal effort, I see.”

You scoffed, knowing he was just being facetious, and laid back down on your bed. You checked the time; it was around 9:45pm. You had an hour and forty five minutes before you had to call a cab and make your way to MÜTE. Of course, given how fervently you had packed earlier, you had nothing left to find or bring. The key card was around your neck, the world around you was placid and uneventful… all you could do was lie earnestly in wait for the hours to pass.

Of course - with how oddly excited you were - the hours seemed to pass by horribly slow. You paced restlessly, highly anticipating what was to come. You had question… so very many of them. Refusing to forget them, you sat down at your desk and began to scribble messily on a piece of paper torn from one of your notebooks.

Where are you from? What are the black bloods like? What conditioner do you use? Permission or forgiveness? Fight or flight? Chocolate or hard candy?

You paused, your pen hesitating against the paper and making a slight splotch of ink before you stopped, not writing down the last question on your mind. Are you like me? You left the note out on your desk.

You checked the time again and groaned, 10:30pm.

“I wish life had a fast-forward button…” you pitched yourself onto bed sheets, face down. You laid there for a minute before screeching upon the realization that you were wearing red lipstick and the sheets were fucking snow white.

“Shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit!” you cried, pulling the sheets off the bed and rushing them to your wash room. You blotted it with rubbing alcohol, rendering the fabric damp. A good bit had come out, but some was still in the fabric, making it pink. It was just a little stain, but still.  You’d either have to take it in for cleaning or get a new sheet. You groaned, bundling the thing up and throwing it into the washer with more detergent than what was necessary. You slammed the top shut and made your way back to your room, cursing when you saw your face in the mirror.

“Damnit,” you sighed, trying to fix the smeared lipstick. You decided it would be best if you just wiped it off entirely, applying a sheer chapstick with a slight tint, instead. You wiped away the stain it made on your cheek completely; the pigment thankful coming off your skin better than it came out of the sheets. You covered the spot with a bit of concealer just to be safe. You peeked at the time, realizing you were due to call a cab.

You grabbed your bag and left your room, dialing up the taxi service as you swung the bag over your shoulder and sat in your living room. Rubbing your hand on the textured fabric of the seat, you counted the minutes until your ride came. You looked up upon your living room filling with light, the headlights of the car reminding you of just haw dark it was in your apartment. You hummed, pushing yourself off the couch. The excitement you had felt earlier still thrummed through your body, but it was now much quieter.

This is for business, you thought, it’s not like we’re even acquaintances. That fact is unassailable.

You greeted the driver with a kind smile and told him where you were going. He laughed, “Going clubbing? You look a bit underdressed.”

You sighed, “Yeah… I’m going to be doing business, actually.”

“Huh,” he mused, glancing at your through the rearview mirror, “What business could you possibly have at a club?”

You laughed, “I ask myself that too.” You sat back in your seat, the car falling into a comfortable silence.  You fiddled with you ear, mindlessly tugging at the extremity. The car ride wasn’t too long, not being longer than 5 minutes. The club wasn’t horribly far, only about a fifteen minute walk from your apartment in Hannam-dong. You could’ve walked, but you didn’t like to be out in the streets at night. It scared you.

The car slowed down and stopped at the curb, the driver reaching out for his payment. You passed him what you owed, and promptly stepped out of the car and onto the hard sidewalk. You shivered as the car drove away, and promptly got closer to the building to building to stop some of the wind chill.

You had about twenty minutes before you had to meet Ten, so you spent the time on scouting the area. You peeked around the corners of MÜTE, spying down the long alleyways. The air was filled with the muffled sound of some recent dance hit, the bass making the ground shake just slightly. You walked around the place, turning around promptly when you turned the back right corner and almost bumped into a couple. You covered your eyes and tried to erase the image of the guy shoving his tongue down her throat, his hands on her exposed chest, and her hands on his junk.

You walked back along the side of the building you came from, heading back towards the front. Rounding the corner, you decided it best to go inside. It was getting quite cold, and your hands were freezing.

Standing in line, you gave the bouncer a glare as he looked you up and down, scrutinizing your appearance. His head was smooth as ice. You stuck out your tongue as you came to the front of the line and his frown deepened, “You’re not exactly dressed for a night in the club, girlie.”

You snorted, “And your head isn’t exactly suited to a night out in the freezing cold, baldy, but that’s not stopping you.”

“You little bitch-”

“Hey!” Someone across the street called out, walking confidently across the black pavement. His black hair glinted red under the neon club sign, giving him the look of a devil. His eyes shinned with the same crimson, bright and dangerous. He stood on the other side of the line - the one closer to the street - and jerked his chin at you, “I told you to meet me outside of the club, not in it.”

You raised a brow, not liking his arrogant attitude, “I could’ve sworn you-”

“Well, you swore wrong,” He huffed, lifting up the velvet rope that separated him from you and grabbed your hand. You made an awkward noise as he pulled you under the rope, stumbling a bit as you nearly caught the rope with your nose – you were doing the limbo, essentially. Ten laughed, but it was condescending, “You forget things a lot, don’t you?”

You frowned, digging your heals into the sidewalk, effectively stopping the two of you. You yanked your hand roughly out of his grasp, taking a step back, “Fuck off…” You muttered, rubbing your hand. He had a strong grip, stronger than you remembered.

You looked up, examining his hard expression. He had turned around, hands down at his side. The two of you were a good thirty feet away from the club and the tenants were looking at you, wanting to see if a fight was about to break out. Ten’s face gave nothing away, and he was dressed in significantly less clothes than you. It boggled your mind.

“You look really fucking cold,” you muttered, looking him up from head to toe. He was wearing a black dress shirt and black dress pants, paired with a pair of nice, sleek shoes.

“I’m really not,” he quipped, “I run warm blooded.”

You swallowed, shifting from foot to foot. You didn’t know how to behave around him; his tone made you nervous, scared, “Well, I’m fucking freezing, so…”

“And?”

“And I think I’d be a good idea to go somewhere warm, such as-”

“I am not going into that club,” He leaned to the side, glancing around your figure, “And neither are you, judging by that bouncer’s face.”

You glanced over your shoulder, grimacing at the daunting look the angry, bald man was giving you. You sighed, “Yeah… I think your right with that one. So…” You bit you lip and turned your head promptly, smiling. It came out more as a wince, “Looks like were going someplace else.”

“Or we could stay here and get this over with?”

“Nah, I feel like making things complicated for you. You broke my window and I think you just broke my hand.”

“Oh, calm down. Your hand is fine.” He groaned.

You raised an eyebrow, flopping your hand flippantly in his face, “Is it? Is it really?” You cradled the extremity and cooed over it, “My hands are sensitive… And they are very, very upset that my living room window is broken.” You jiggled your hand in his face again, “Very upset.”

He looked skeptical, raising an eyebrow with wide eyes, “Okay…? Noted, your hands are sentient.”

“Damn straight,” you coughed, “Okay, fuck this. We’re going to my place.”

“Uh-”

“You already know where I live, you creeper. It’s not like it’s anything you don’t know,” you scoffed, brushing past him. You were walking fast, determined to get home in less than ten minutes, “Shit, I could really go for some hot cocoa right now.”

Ten followed silently, deciding it best to follow your shivering, ranting figure. He caught up, walking beside you. He kept giving you weird looks.

“What? Is there something on my face?” You bundled up your jacket, crossing your arms in an effort to conserve warmth. The way you were walking was against the wind, chilling you to the bone.

Ten continued to stare, “No, you’re just…” he stopped, mouth opening and closing. He pursed his lips, “Nevermind.”

“You’re strange,” You muttered, jokingly bumping him with your hip. He stumbled, not expecting the friendly action. He looked startled before he gave a small laugh, smiling lightly.

“Right back at you.” He came back to his place beside you, his arm lightly brushing your side.

The rest of the walk passed in silence besides your puffing breath. He didn’t seem to break a sweat, but you felt like your lungs were freezing. The only sign of being cold he showed was the involuntary reddening of his nose and cheeks, which made his look significantly less brooding and dark. You excitedly ran up the steps to your apartment, which was conveniently on the first floor of the residence. Ten followed close behind you, watching you closely as you unlocked the door.

You stepped into the apartment, telling him to close the door behind himself and to hang up his coat. He chuckled, “I’m not wearing one, you know.”

You scoffed, taking off your shoes and settling them by the door. You took off your coat and threw it over him as he took off his own shoes, “Now you do,” you laughed, escaping to the kitchen. You called back to him as you opened a cabinet and took out a jar of cocoa mix, “Be a dear and hang it up for me, will you?”

You heard a snort, “Lazy ass!” He yelled, but his voice had no real bite to it. You smiled.

Looks like my impulsiveness helped, this time, you thought, pulling out two mugs from one of the higher cabinets. You set them on the counter and moved to fill up the conduction kettle with enough water to fill both mugs, turning on the sink. You danced slightly as you waited for it to fill to the point you wanted, trying to warm yourself up. You bobbed your head, jamming to your internal soundtrack.

Once it finished filling, you settled the glass object on the conduction plate and turned the thing on, turning around to lean against the counter. Your eyes sought out the raven haired man, your head still bobbing. He gave you another weird look, looking like he muttered something under his breath that looked vaguely like ‘okay, then.’

He was about to make a comment when you yelped upon hearing the kettle turn off, signaling that it was done, “Oh, hell yeah…” You whispered, grabbing the kettle and pouring an equal amount of water into both mugs. Getting out two spoons directly following, you scooped out some of the hot cocoa mix and stirred it into each cup. You left the spoons in, and handed one of the mugs to Ten. He didn’t reach out to take so you awkwardly set it on the counter, leaving him to stare down into the rich, brown liquid. He looked back up at you.

“Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned you joked,” taking a small sip, “See?”

He nodded, eyes lingering on you for a moment before he grabbed his own mug and brought it to his lips. He choked, putting the mug down on the counter hastily, “What the fuck? What the hell was in that?”

“I put salt in yours,” you laughed, “Consider it petty payment for breaking my window.”

“Bitch…” he cursed, “I would like to remind you that you stabbed me.”

“So?” You took another sip of your un-salted hot cocoa, “I called the ambulance, which also happened to save that girl’s life. I have leverage over you, bitch. I would just like to remind you of that.”

Burn.

He sighed, “Okay, you’ve had you revenge. Do you have the key card?”

“Yes,” you said, smiling over the rim of your mug, “but you’re not getting it yet.”

“You are a pain in the ass.”

“I take pride in that,” you slid him you hot cocoa, “Here, get the taste out of your mouth. I promise it’s not salted this time; I like my cocoa sweet.”

“Noted,” he said, bringing the cup to his lips as he leaned against the table with his elbows – on the opposite side as you. He took a sip, appreciating the taste, “…thanks.”

“No problem,” you muttered, starring at him. You recalled the list of questions you had earlier, “So, where are you from? I noticed you have an accent, but I could quite place what it was.”

He slid the mug back to you and answered as you took a sip, “Thailand, that’s why I go by Ten.”

“Ah, that explains it. The name, I mean,” you hummed and passed him the mug again, “What are the Black Bloods like?”

“I can’t really answer that,” he said, “But it’s good. We’re not as… tightly knit as you seem to be. Most of us are init strictly for business.”

“What about the guy who got killed last week?” You asked voice quiet. You hoped you weren’t strumming a nerve, “What was he like?”

“Minho?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, him.” Ten sighed, “I never liked that guy. He used to always harass Yonai, no matter how much she rejected him. It was irritating.”

“Interesting…” You mused, taking the last sip of the hot chocolate, “What about-”

“How about I start asking you questions?” Ten straightened up, coming to his senses a bit as the night wore on. He was growing tired of you drilling him for info, “Where is the key card?”

You pouted and sat up, “You’re no fun. Here,” you grabbed the lanyard and pulled the key card out from under your shirt. You didn’t remove it from your neck, though, eyeing him suspiciously, “Where’s the payment?”

He pulled out a card and handed it to you, “Transfer 100,000 to your account. I’ll know if you take more, so don’t try me.”

“Alright,” you pushed off the counter, “Let me get my laptop.”

You ran back to your room and unplugged the electronic, holding it to your chest. You rushed back to the kitchen, telling Ten to sit with you in the living room. He did, crossing his legs as he sat down on a couch. You sat beside him, letting him watch as you transferred the money. Upon entering your password, you heard him sigh, “I still can’t believe your password is sucmydic…”

“It’s funny, though. Plus, no one has ever been able to guess it, so it’s quite effective.”

“… Alright.”

“Be honest, deep down you think it’s funny. Don’t deny it.” You jested, prodding him in the side. He frowned.

“You’re an enigma.”

“I’ll take that was a compliment.”

You finished the transaction and handed back his credit card. It was odd how he was using his own funds, but he probably did it to avoid suspicious. The Black Bloods would probably reimburse him, anyway, once he comes back with the key card, “Here,” you started to take of the lanyard, “Take it-”

The doorbell rang. You let the key card fall back down around your neck. Ten stiffened, “Who the fuck is that?” He whispered, “Was this a fucking set up? Oh, I cannot believe-!”

“Don’t believe it, then, because I swear to god this isn’t what you think.” You glanced through the peep hole of the door. It was Eunseong, “Shit…” you whispered, “You need to hide, now.”

“Hey, I didn’t come here to get screwed over. Give me the damn-”

“If you don’t hide now than we’ll both be screwed over so please shut the hell up and hide in a closet or something.”

He cursed, knowing he couldn’t leave without the key card, “Fine, but you need to pay me back for this. Take care of your boyfriend.”

“Sure, whatever, just…” You turned around and whisper shouted, “He’s not my boyfriend!”  It was too late, Ten was already out of earshot. You let out a frustrated, strangled noise. The doorbell rang again.

You put your hand on the knob and turned, taking a deep breath to try to calm yourself down.

Here goes nothing.


So, how was it? Good? Bad? Meh? Tell me bc that motivates me to plot for the next chapter (and to keep writing things that people enjoy and want to read).

Thank you so, so much for reading all of that. Bless u little angel. It’s time for me to sob over math homework now.

Adios. 

PART 4

i saw hans zimmer live yesterday and it was probably the best experience of my whole life

i knew i was gonna get teary-eyed (which i was for probably like 50 % of the show) but i was actually pretty much bawling during the dark knight trilogy’s music when he brought up heath ledger and the aurora shooting, it was very embarrassing

Look After You - John Laurens x Reader

Anon- ‘Could you please do #24 and #80 with Laurens please? Thx!! 💕’
Word count- 1826
Warnings- pregnancy ??, mentions of vomiting, swearing
Notes- first fic of 2017 (!!) I do plan on writing much more this year so hopefully I stick to that resolution
enjoy !!

Prompts- “Say it!” & “I’m pregnant”

(a/n I didn’t mention anything about abortion in this because everybody has their own opinion about it. Personally, I’m pro-choice but i know that not everybody else is, so to not make this too problematic, i just didn’t include it)

Shit.

Two baby pink lines were clearly situated on the plastic stick you held in front of yourself. All because of one stupid drunken mistake. Shit.

Immediately, your thoughts clouded from the panic that was now settling in your mind. Were you old enough? Would he want this? How were you meant to look after your own tiny child? And what about childbirth? You weren’t ready for this, you convinced yourself, you had no experience whatsoever.

I mean, sure, you thought, you’d had experience with children before. A few of your friends had kids, and you had family members who’d had kids as well. But when it came to actually looking after a child’s life constantly, until they left home when they were adults? How were you honestly meant to be left with that responsibility.

You disposed of the test in the trash can and exited your bathroom, grateful that you lived alone in that moment. The quiet, dead air comforted you, until you realised that you technically weren’t the only life living in your apartment anymore. You felt your hands begin to shake slightly before you took a deep breath. This was it. You were going to have a child.


Walking over to your laptop, you opened it and instantly opened up google, typing into the search engine: ‘what not to do when pregnant’. You clicked on the first result it provided you with and began reading.

1. Don’t drink alcohol! - especially during the first 3 months, although some say that there is no evidence that the occasional drink can do any harm.

Well that one was obvious. You knew that you had drank alcohol since that night. Hell, you were even drunk when you made the mistake. But you had to cut down, you knew that.

2. Avoid x-rays and vaccinations- they can be dangerous to the fetus and could cause defects

That was do-able, you thought to yourself.

3. Don’t wear stilettos - stick to heels that are 3 inches high or less- your back will be strained enough as it is!

That was easy enough. You were sure you’d be able to find plenty of shoes that wouldn’t cause your feet major discomfort.

4. Don’t believe everything you read - often you’ll come across a story that will both scare you and also not be true. If in doubt, ask your doctor.

Again, easy. The more you could avoid the scare stories, the better.

5. Lastly, don’t let anyone tell you what to do with how you deal with your pregnancy - although if it comes from a medical personnel, it’s probably advisable to follow it. However, it is your own body, you’re the one who’s carrying this baby and you know yourself better than anyone, not the doctor, not your family, not the father-

The father. John. Shit.

How were you meant to tell him? You were barely coming to terms with the prospect of your future suddenly being changed much earlier that you thought it would. Now you had to bring him into this mess as well.
You weren’t even sure whether he remembered the night that well.

You, him, and the rest of your little group - Hamilton, Lafayette, Mulligan and the three Schuylers to be exact - had decided to go out to celebrate something that had long since escaped your mind. It was meant to be a semi-casual outing with a few drinks being bought, but, needless to say, it got a little out of hand. You weren’t entirely sure who had first initiated that first kiss but either way, it happened and now you were paying the price.

You had to tell him. How, you didn’t know. But there was no way you’d be able to raise this child knowing it was his, unbeknownst to him. No, you had to tell him. You just hoped that he’d take it well.

~~~

DING

You head rose from the palm of your hand that it was resting on at the sound of your phone waking you. Your hands fumbled slightly with the home button, as you cleared your head from your recent nap.
It was a text from John. In an instant, all the thoughts of guilt, worry and terror came flooding back in. Despite your better judgement, you opened the text, expecting some simple 'hey, how are you’ text. You were out of luck.

John- hey, we haven’t seen you in a bit, wanna go out w the guys tonight??

It was the first time he’d planned something since that night with you all, as far as you were aware. Whenever the lot of you had gone out in the brief period of time in between then and now, it had been Herc or Hamilton who had organized the outings. Of course, it could have been that he did remember that night and was too reluctant to invite you and so he had just invited the others instead.

You realised that you hadn’t even replied so you tapped out a positive accept to his invitation before pausing and realising what you were agreeing to. 'Go out’. Probably to a bar. Where there would be alcohol. Which you couldn’t drink and would have to turn down. That would immediately arouse suspicion. Although you knew you’d have to tell them eventually - the large bump that would soon be appearing on your stomach would give the game away anyway - you’d rather figure out what you were going to say to him first.

You deleted the message, wondering how you were meant to turn him down without sounding like you were ignoring them all. You could use the classic 'feeling unwell’ excuse, which wouldn’t be too far from being untrue. You had woken up that morning with the indubitable urge of violent vomiting, which you regrettably submitted to. It had been the thing that had encouraged you to buy the god forsaken pregnancy test in the first place. Having nothing better to give him, you typed out a new message explaining that you couldn’t go out and put your phone back down, exhaling a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

It wasn’t too long before he came back with a reply, however, and you quickly picked your phone back up.

John- you want me to come round and bring anything?

How were you meant to say no? You knew that he was too good for what he’d now have to deal with. You mentally apologised to him but still you agreed and, as if no time had passed, he was soon on your doorstep.
His hair looked like he’d recently tied it back, and you were certain that his socks weren’t matching, but other than that he looked completely normal. You wondered whether he’d be able to tell that there was something else wrong by the look on your face but he quickly pulled you into a warm embrace, surprisingly you slightly. This wasn’t unlike John - he was, to some extent, and touchy-feely type of person - but the way he seemed to handle you with care made you relax and you rested you head on his shoulder.
“You okay?” He asked quietly, still not pulling away.
“I’ve been better,” you admitted with a shaky laugh. You felt him smile and you two parted. You pulled him into the apartment, not wanting to stand in the hallway much longer. He pulled off his shoes, as he always did when he came round to your apartment, despite you never asking him to.

You felt his eyes watching you as you sat down on the couch but you ignored them, knowing that they held a thousand questions that you wouldn’t be able to answer. Instead, you picked up a stack of dvd cases left on your wooden coffee table and turned to him.
“Movies?” you asked, holding them up.
“Sure,” he replied. You walked over to your cheap tv and placed the dvd into the player, once again detecting his eyes on you. You flopped back down on the couch, him joining you, and the movie started with the two of your in silence. You were relieved to see that his attention was no longer on yourself but rather the movie itself. You shifted your body slightly and kept your eyes on the film that you were inevitably no longer paying attention to - instead your mind was running wild once again, for what seemed like the millionth time today.

“You’re not telling me something.” John spoke up, his eyes on you once again. You shot him a confused look and he carried on. “I can see it. In your face. Something else had happened.”
“John- it’s fine, I’m-” you started, not feeling ready to have this conversation yet.
“No, you constantly look like your thinking too hard about something. And, although it’s frustratingly cute, it’s also not like you. So fess up.”
“John, please-”
“(Y/N)…” he dragged on the last syllable of your name, making you smile slightly. “Say it! You can trust me,”

You looked at him hard, taking in all his features. His eyes were lit up but still had a level of concern evident in them, locked onto yours. His lips were upturned in the ghost of a smile. You took a deep breath before saying the words out loud. “I’m pregnant.”

“Shit,” he breathed out, his facial expression now looking torn between being happy for you and also confusion. “Shit, that’s- wow. And it’s-” he trailed off, looking away, suddenly becoming the one lost for words.
“It’s what?” You asked him gently, grateful that he hadn’t panicked yet.
“Is it mine?” he asked his eyes locking with yours.
“Yeah,” you smiled gently, expecting the worst but being relieved when it didn’t come. Instead you were met once again with his arms wrapped around your body, even tighter than ever before. Your own arms mimicked his own and you felt a massive weight that had been unknowingly weighing you down all day lifted off your shoulders.
“Shit,” he half laughed.
“Yeah,” you said again with the similar tone.
“I’m gonna be a dad,” he said to you with a goofy smile on his face.
“You’re okay with this?” you asked, gesturing towards your stomach.
“As long as you are,” John assured.

Thankful that he had taken it better than you had ever expected, you felt your lips connect with his own. You pushed him back slightly, taking him by surprise but he quickly adjusted and deepened the kiss, placing his hands on your waist. You felt him smile against your lips, before pulling away and resting his forehead against your own. You regained your breath and looked at him.
“So,” he started.
“So,” you copied, the smile on your face not threatening to leave anytime soon.
“You wanna do that more often?”
You responded by pressing your own lips to his once again, this time wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

Ask Box Open

Guys it finally happened, I managed to empty it. I’m a bit in shock myself. It only took half a century but I answered everything in the ask box. Crazy stuff. With the clean slate, I’m now open again to new requests. Send in as many as you can think of as much as you want. Scenarios, nsfw, crossover and pairing headcanons as well as the always open positivity asks. Bring it on.

As a side note, if you think you’ve sent in something and it has not been answered, you probably sent it when the ask box was closed and I just delete those requests. Maybe I should have another ask Pro day sometime soon, haven’t done one in forever.

Oops I rambled again, but anyway I’ll keep working hard even if I usually have a slow pace. I hope everyone continues to enjoy the stuff I produce.

4

today was weird

Day 6 – Fandom

Pairings: Eren/Mikasa, Shingeki no Kyojin

Rating: T (Language)

Words: 7364

Inspired By: Glitter (Another Infinity), Shissou (Last Alliance), Sayonara Memories (Supercell)

Notes: I won’t lie, I had a hard time coming up with something for this so thanks to Jason who gave me the idea haha Its kinda similar to the meeting online one I did a while ago but everyone seemed to like that one a lot so I assumed noone would mind if I made a longer one :3 The title is spoken by Eleven to River Song in “The Name of the Doctor” which is the series 7 finale of Doctor Who. Queue my endless crying.

FF.Net/AO3

You Are Always Here To Me

Sometimes Mikasa really hated going online. It was one of those horrible love/hate relationships where she spent her days wasting her time away on the internet because she couldn’t help herself but she hated what she saw more often than not. Why were people so stupid? Is generally what she asked herself after spending more than a few moments scanning over the posts on her screen. It was something she couldn’t even comprehend. That and people went into tags to look at relevant posts to what they liked, not to see some ignorant post from someone who was really just butt hurt and not actually typing anything that had any truth behind it or logic for that matter.

As Mikasa laid on her stomach on her bed what she really wanted to do was pound her head against something to unsee the stupidity she had to bear witness to. Instead she clicked up on the new post button on her blog, bringing up a blank text on her screen for her to speak her mind for all to see; well, for the people who followed her who actually cared to see that was which was probably slim to none. Whatever. She felt the injustice of it all swirling in the pit of her stomach and she knew she had to get it out somewhere.

She took her OTP very seriously, okay.

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