#/ i have played many time signatures and done so much coke in my life.......

[moonrevolutions]

being part of a jazz band is legit just like looking into the eyes of the devil and god all at once.

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: El Ojo (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong? 

Warnings: swearing, injury to reader, alcohol and drug abuse, threatening with guns, brief mentions of torture, description of injury and blood, unwanted touching, flirting, bad thought processes (addiction). PINK SHIRT 

Word Count: 5k 

A/N: Had a little change of plan last week, this is now the final chapter of this series. I am so sad to end it now, I’ve loved writing this so much. My first time writing for Narcos so thank you so much for all the support y’all I’ve given me with this. I love you all. I hope you enjoy this chapter!! 

<-- Previous Chapter // Masterlist //  Next Chapter -->

--

You were on a winning streak. Since you’d found the list of sicarios and matched that up with the more current information, you’d presented it to Carrillo and surprisingly he was on board. With his help, you had brought down five, admittedly low level but increasingly more valuable, sicarios. If you didn’t think about the torture and abuse each of them undertook once captured, used to break them into more telling more information, you could say you were doing a good job. Escobar’s organisation was shaking. You were coming for him. 

You and Steve leant against a wall, soaking up the sunshine chatting amongst yourselves when you saw Javier arrive. You hadn’t expected him to come at all, having disappeared without a word early on in the morning. He parked his truck close by, walking over to you and Steve with his vest in hand. You grinned and jabbed Steve when you saw the shirt Javi was wearing. 

The pink shirt had been a long-standing joke since you’d found it in his closet a few months ago. He had many colourful shirts, was known for them, but the pink one always seemed like another level. You and Steve teased him about it constantly, though you had to admit it did look good on him now. Javi scowled when he saw you and Steve’s mischievous grins, immediately realising his mistake. 

“I know you get called the Whore of Bogata but you don’t need to dress like it! Jesus christ Javi!” You fanned yourself with your hand, grinning at him, “really I’m going to need a minute,” Javi flipped you off as you laughed hard.  

“Shut up, I look great,” He grumbled. 

“Just thinking about the poor flamingo you rinsed for that colour,” Steve joined in the teasing, shaking his head sadly. 

“You are just jealous you could never pull this colour off,” Javi said smugly. You laughed.

“Maybe you shouldn’t come out today, could be quite distracting,” You said, pretending to be thoughtful. Javi’s frowned, only making you and Steve laugh more, “Aw don’t get pissy, Baby. We love you really” You teased him in a mocking voice, pouting at him. “You and your flamboyant choices,” You ruffled his hair up as you passed him. He tried to duck out the way but you caught him. He shoved you away, muttering expletives under his breath. You skipped a few paces out of his reach, flipped him off. 

“L/n!” Somebody called your name across the street, one of the technicians you’d been talking to before Javier arrived. You left Steve and Javier to talk. 

The technician explained the problem again, showing you the options for moving forward. It was quite common that things would go wrong before any kind of mission. Today was no different, the technicians had lost a signal and were now not sure that the address you had swarmed was correct.  

You chewed your nails while you thought. You could risk getting the wrong house, letting the sicarios know you were on to them and you’d lose them again. You could come back another day, but risk losing them again. Or you could ransack some innocent person's house and have Carrillo on your ass for ruining his reputation in the one week he’d left you in charge. 

 If you messed this up it would mean your stronghold would be lost. There would be time for them to work out what was going on and move everything again. 

At a loss, you excused yourself needing to take a break and a few minutes alone to think without soldiers trying to put in their two cents. 

As your work life had become more stressful over the last months. You had found some relief in, ironically, coke. It wasn’t a habit you were trying to form, but you had learnt just what good taking just a little bit could do for you. It quietened down your worried brain and made you simultaneously more aware of everything. You were better when you were just a little bit high.  

You had started keeping a small amount in your pocket. Hidden in a small sewing tin in your jacket pocket, you had started keeping a little coke on you especially for moments like this. You could take it, have a breather, and come back with a solution. It was fine. Nobody would know. 

You’d spotted a cafe across the road, and hoped they had a restroom. You gave an excuse to the soldier you’d been talking to and walked across the street.

“Oi Rookie!” Javi called as he noticed you walk past on the opposite side of the street. “Where are you going?” 

“Going to the bathroom. Women’s issues,” You called back, Javi and Steve grimaced. That was always the best excuse.

While you wouldn’t do it at the compound you didn’t have any reservation here. You’d been itching for a hit all morning and there was only so much more you could take. You walked into the cafe, asked for the direction of the restroom, and locked the door behind you once you were inside. Small, dark and stinking of pee, it was not the best place but hygiene wasn’t particularly an issue you were worried about. 

You tipped a small amount from the box onto the sink counter, lined it up with a card from your pocket, bent down and took it up your nose. You grimaced, while it had burnt your nose somewhat it still stung. But it was worth it when the feeling began to kick in. You smiled at your reflection and double-checked your appearance in the mirror, wiping your nose. Nobody could ever tell. 

As usual, the drug kicked your brain into gear again and everything fell into place. The raid went brilliantly, by pure coincidence you’d bagged two sicarios in one as your original target had invited your next round for dinner with his new girlfriend. Your plan well into the swing of things now, much to everyone’s surprise. 

—

Like every weekend for the last three months, you were going out. The line between enemies and friends was long since blurred, hanging out with ‘Isabela’s’ friends was not an issue. Most of the time you weren’t even trying to get anything from them, you’d got what you needed months ago. As fun as Javier and Steve were, it was much more enjoyable to hang out with people your age. And they wouldn’t give you cocaine, María had it on tap. 

You were dressed up, recently treating yourself to a new outfit as a job well done. A black off the shoulder top, covered in lace, and a little black mini skirt. You felt sexy, you were going to have a very good night. 

“Rookie!” Javier called out to you as he came out of the apartment building. You were standing outside waiting for a taxi, smoking a cigarette.

“Javi, baby, you’re looking slick! Where are you going?” You checked him out. He wore his signature tight blue jeans and an equally tight black shirt that was almost bursting at the seams. He looked incredible, as he always did. 

You were thankful that things had gone back to normal between you and Javier. The awkward stepping around each other had gone, you weren’t jealous. You acknowledged you would probably always like him a little more than was professional but that had fallen into a fun flirty banter that more than anything just wound Steve up.

You found yourself calling him Baby more than his name, it’d started as a joke to get back at him for always calling you Rookie but now it was so commonplace people had stopped picking you up on it if it slipped out while you were working.  

It was fun. You cared for each other, that was clear to even a blind man, but there was no romanticism to the relationship anymore. There was no need. It wasn’t good for either of you. You’d found a comfortable rhythm and were going to stick to it. 

“Out,” He shrugged, “That’s a new top,”

“You noticed?” 

 “Course, can’t keep my eyes off you,” He purred, happily playing along with your game. 

“Thought you’d be more interested in the skirt,” 

“Will you two quit it?” Steve’s voice interrupted your flirting as he walked down the stairs. You barked in laughter. 

“Steve! So it’s a boys night I see? Where was my invite?” 

“Figured you’d have your own plans,” Steve said. 

“And you are correct Murphy but it’s always polite to ask,”

 “Next time,” He assured you. “Where are you going tonight?” 

“I don’t know. Some club, El Ojo or something?” You shrugged, “Seeing as this is maybe Isabela’s last time out I am going to go out with a bang, literally,” You raised an eyebrow, insinuation of your worlds made Steve roll his eyes. 

You were hoping within the next few weeks to be able to close in on some higher level sicarios and associates to Escobar. Drawing the noose in slowly so he wouldn’t notice until it’d choked him. That meant your position as Isabela was going to have to come to an end to keep you safe from your own program. You’d discussed it at length with Peña and Murphy, while you didn’t agree you had to listen to them. They were still your superiors after all, no matter how close friends you were. 

“If you told past you you were going to willingly sleep with a Narco I think you would have passed out,” Steve laughed. 

“I’m a changed woman Murphy, what can I say,” You smirked, “Imagine what I’ll be like by the end of the year,” 

“God help us,” Javier shook his head, a smirk plastered on his face. You laughed and stubbed out your cigarette with your shoe as your taxi pulled around the corner. 

“Here’s my ride. Have a good night, boys. I will be back in the morning,”

 —

El Ojo was just as María had told you. Modern and smoke-filled, people were filling every inch of the space. You walked in and couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. This was exactly what you needed. Crowds were anonymous, nobody cared who you were or what you were doing. Everyone was just there for one reason, to have a good time. 

You ordered a drink at the bar, flirting with the man next to you briefly before taking the drink and finding your friends. As usual, they were up in the VIP area, courtesy of the Parreño name. You walked up and were let inside the cordoned-off area to find Diego stood up on his seat, wild-eyed, shouting about something. It wasn’t until you got closer that you heard what he was saying. 

“I’m telling you Isabela is lying!” He shouted above the music. 

“What’s going on?” You asked. None of the ten people surrounding the booth noticed your approach, their eyes shifting awkwardly when they saw you. 

“You! You’re a liar!” Diego pointed down at you, hatred burning behind his eyes. 

“What is going on?” You asked again. You looked around for María, she was usually the one to step between you and Diego, but she was nowhere to be seen. This was not the kind of conversation you’d wanted for this evening. 

“You were the only one to survive that raid at Carlos’,” He continued, jumping off the couch to your level,  “That fucking maniac Carrillo killed everyone but you! You’re working with them, aren’t you?” 

“You’ve lost it,” You rolled your eyes, “Completely lost it,”

“You don’t deny it!” He yelled. You gulped, trying not to look scared of the man but the rage in his eyes was shaking you. You stepped backwards as he advanced toward you

“You’re insane!” You laughed in his face, “I’m not a fucking spy, especially not for Carrillo,” 

“Bullshit,” He spat, Suddenly he pulled a gun from his back, waving it in your face. People shouted and screamed around you, scattering as the metal glinted in the light. Your eyes remained on his, not saying a word as he pressed the barrel into your neck. You didn’t move, barely breathing, “You’re a fucking rat,” He growled.

“Diego!” Finally, María stepped in, running over when she heard the commotion. “Stop it, put it away. Idiot,” She pulled the gun from his hand, standing firmly between you and him. “Ignore him. He’s paranoid. Someone’s leaking information and he thinks it's you because he’s a jealous asshole,” Maria explained, swiftly pushing him backwards until he sat back in the booth again, “How fucking ridiculous would that be? You? A spy!” 

“Insane,”  You agreed through a clenched jaw. Diego continued to glare at you dangerously, leaning over to whisper something to a friend. 

“I swear if we get banned from this club because of you Diego I am leaving you,” María said angrily, “Come on, I want to party,” She linked her arm through you, not caring that you were still in shock from having a gun held to you, and dragged you to the bar.

Fortunately, copious amounts of vodka and tequila were great for calming your nerves. In a few hours, you had nearly forgotten the entire ordeal. You couldn’t think about anything more than the music ringing in your ears and how good it felt dancing on the stranger behind you. 

After a while, María pulled you back up to the booth where Diego and his friends were still sitting. You did your best to ignore him, chatting to one of the girls at the table instead. You laughed and did a few lines, generally relaxing into the evening. So relaxed you didn’t notice the newest member of the group until he finally addressed you.

“Don’t I know you?” You looked over and panic spread over you like a bucket of ice water over your head sobering you almost instantly. He did know you. The man before you was the first man you had arrested, almost six months ago. He must have been bailed out for jail. 

“No,” You answered confidently. You didn’t lie. You didn’t know him, not really.

“Gabriel, sit down!” María cheered, “Isabela this is my cousin, Gabriel. Gabriel, Isabela,” She introduced you. Her cousin. Of course. You smiled politely, praying the dim lights would hide the nervous sweat that had overtaken you. 

Gabriel looked confused but didn’t say anything if he did recognise you. Not that that would matter anyway, as soon as he spoke to Diego his memory would no doubt be jogged. If he found out you were a DEA agent you would be dead. You had to leave.

“Here take my seat, I’ve got to get some air for a minute,” You stood up, letting him take your place next to Maria. You caught Diego’s suspicious look as you walked past, spotting the nearest exit door. 

Your hands were shaking, your body not sure what to do with itself. The cocaine and alcohol said to go back inside and take them all out. What was left of your rational brain was consumed by fear and kept you outside. It was bad enough if someone like Senator Parreño had suspicions about you but Diego? Gabriel? Diego had already shown he wasn’t afraid to threaten you in public. Of the two of them joined heads they would connect the dots and your cover would be blown wide open. So would you, you thought morbidly. Coke and anger never mixed well. 

You took breathes of the warm summer air, leaning against the wall of the club as you tried to calm yourself down. You shouldn’t have taken the last shot, now verging over the edge of blacking out; your vision was spotty, sound not registering properly and your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. 

You wondered if Steve and Javi were nearby, the fresh air having the opposite effect than you’d wanted. You would blackout and you were going to need help to get home if you did. But you didn’t recall either of the men telling you where they were going, they could be anywhere in the city. 

Stumped for the moment, you decided to wait it out, lighting a cigarette hoping that might help sober you up. You pulled the packet from your purse

“Need a light?” A man appeared next to you, lighter in hand. You nodded and he flicked the flame up, you bent over and lit your cigarette between your teeth. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled, turning away from him, hoping he would leave. He didn’t. Instead, the man continued to stare at you, following you into your personal space as you shuffled away from him. 

“Can I help you?” You snapped, immediately getting a bad feeling about him. You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning at him. 

“No need for that tone baby. Come on, I wanna talk to you,” He purred. His eyes dipped to your cleavage, a lustful look in his eyes. 

“I’m not interested,” You said, stepping backwards away from the man. He seemingly didn’t hear you, continuing to get into your personal space, arms reaching out to grab your hips. 

“You were interested earlier. Come on, baby,” He purred, pulling you close to him, pressing his hips against yours. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You yelled, pushing him off hard enough to make him stumble backwards. 

“Fucking bitch,” He growled. 

If you were sober the situation would have a very swift end. You would punch him square in the face and he would leave you alone, scuttling away with a broken jaw and a shattered ego. However, you were not in a state to do that now. He had the upper hand. All you could do was run, hoping once you were back amongst people he wouldn’t attack you. You looked up the alley, the open street was just a few feet away. 

You bolted.

Unfortunately just as you didn’t have enough coordination to punch the man, you didn’t have enough to run in heels on the uneven floor. Not even ten foot away your legs wobble, heels falling into a pothole sending you forward. You fell into a dumpster, head hitting the corner of the metal with a thud. You yelped, vision going black for a moment as you lay on the concrete. 

“Hey hey hey,” A man ran over, instantly scaring the man off of you. He knelt by your side and helped you up from where you’d fallen. You groaned and pushed yourself up, head throbbing harshly, warm liquid trickling down your face. Your world was spinning even with your eyes closed. “Y/n, Fuck are you okay?”

“Get off me!” You exclaimed, trying to push the stranger off, not that your shaking arms were very effective. 

“Y/n hey it’s me, you’re okay!” You looked up and saw Steve through a haze of blurred vision. You squinted as something dripped over your eye. Steve then saw the cut to your head, “Oh shit,” Your eyes are glassy and blown out, you mumbled something to him and pushed yourself out of his reach again, wobbling and tipping backwards. He caught you before you hit the floor again. “Y/n what are you doing out here? Weren’t you with your friends?”

“Her brother was the first guy,” You said, your speech slurred so much Steve barely understood what you were saying.

“Rookie, you’re not making sense. What are you on about?” 

“I’m so fucked,” You sighed, letting your head rollback. You giggled as the world spun. 

“Yeah, I can tell, come on let’s get you home,” Steve stood up, holding his hands out to you and pulled you up to standing again. 

“Where’s Peña?” You asked. 

“At the bar,” 

“I want to go talk to him, let’s go talk to him!” You exclaimed. You began to walk in the opposite direction, dragging Steve along by the arm. He pulled you back with ease. 

“You can talk to him in the morning, we’re going home,” He insisted.

“But I have to tell him about the brother he’s going -,” Your rambling was interrupted as you threw up, barely missing Steve’s leg. He grimaced and jumped out of the way, “I have to talk to him,” You said quietly once you were done. 

“Tomorrow, Kid,” He repeated himself.

You pouted, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes but you didn’t fight him. Despite how drunk you were you knew that going home would realistically be the best course of action right now. You could barely string a sentence together let alone get anything important out coherently.

Steve got you into a taxi, luckily the driver paid no attention to the blood dripping down your face. You were falling asleep on his shoulder as you pulled up to the apartment, Steve pulled you out of the car and up the stairs to the apartment. Only when he opened the door, he was met by Javier and Vanessa also on their way inside.

“Woah!” Javier instantly turned his full attention to you when he saw the state you were in, hanging onto Steve’s sleeve, “What happened?” 

“Some guy tried to touch her up, she hit her head, I’ve got it covered,” Steve explained.

“Hey Baby,” You grinned, obviously giving Javi a once over. 

“She doesn’t look alright,” Vanessa commented, “Did she just call you baby?”

“It’s a long story,” Javi dismissed the comment. “She doesn’t look okay,”

“I’ve got it covered. I’ll get her to throw up and get some water to sober her up,” Steve said, “We’ll be okay, won’t we Rook?”

“Fine and dandy!” You grinned.

“If you’re sure,” Javi said hesitantly. You were gone, hanging onto Steve’s arm to hold yourself up. Your eyes were blown out and blank, if you remembered anything in the morning it would be a miracle. His first reaction was to help you, not sure Steve could handle you alone. Steve wasn’t exactly sober himself, sinking a good few beers with Javier in the bar before he’d left. However, his decision was made for him as you and Steve began walking up the stairs, Vanessa’s hands were back on him and any worry was squashed as she dragged him into his apartment.

Upstairs, Steve took you into his apartment. He took you to the bathroom, sat you on top of the toilet and rooted around the medicine cabinet to find some cleaning supplies so he could patch up your bleeding head. 

“Connie’s probably got something in here,” He rooted through the cabinet. Connie had gone back to Miami for the week to see her family, inconveniently right when her skills were needed. Steve’s tipsy attempt at first aid would have to do,“Ah-ha! Here we go, clean that cut out with this,”

“Ow!” You whined, flinching away from him quickly when he showed you the antiseptic bottle. 

“I didn’t touch you,” Steve chuckled, “Hold still,” Carefully he poured the liquid over a cotton ball, took hold of your face in the other hand and dabbed the cotton on your cut. 

“Ow! Steve that fucking hurt,” You complained, flinching away from him as the alcohol stung the wound on your head. You frowned at him, tearing up a little. 

“Don’t be a baby,” 

“I am a baby!” You exclaimed. Steve grabbed hold of you again, he needed to clean the wound if it was going to heal properly. You whined and hissed at him but eventually, it was clear. 

“Look, all done, got the grit out,”

“Thanks, Steve,” You kissed his cheek quickly. 

“You’re welcome,” He laughed awkwardly. “Come on, you can’t sleep on my toilet. Bedtime,”

“You’re not my type,” You scrunched your nose and leant away from him. 

 “Ouch way to break my heart Rook,” Steve chuckled, “No, you’re going to your own bed, by yourself,”

“It's so far away!” You whined. 

“It's across the hall!” He copied your tone making you laugh. 

Steve pulled you up from the toilet and managed to wrangle you across the hall. Half asleep, leaning into Steve before you even got inside the apartment, you fell into bed without protest. Steve pulled off your shoes, throwing them on the ground before stumbling back to his apartment to collapse in his bed. 

—

Waking up in your apartment unsure of how you got there, was a strange feeling. What was even stranger was the harsh throbbing on your head. You blindly brought a hand to the sight, recoiling instantly as you touched something sore. You sat up, slowly opening your eyes to the daylight and looked at your reflection in the mirror opposite your bed. 

You groaned when you saw the gash on your forehead. Dried blood sat in the creases of your neck, and underside of your jaw as well as being crusted into your hair. You tried to remember how you’d gotten the injury but came up blank. You couldn’t remember anything from the night before. Not unusual for your almost nihilistic habits, but it was concerning given the infliction. 

You looked at the clock. 9 am. You’d slept in. Since you were up you decided to clean yourself up. You padded to your bathroom, wincing at the harsh light inside and the grinding sound of the extractor fan. You filled the sink with warm water and gently cleaned the blood from your face with a cloth, only once stopping to throw up into the toilet. 

You showered, hot steam help clear your brain fog but not helping the cut on your forehead which now stung immensely. But that wasn’t the feeling you were concentrating on. 

A new kind of hunger, one you weren’t yet familiar with had settled in on the back of your tongue. A repeating idea chanting over and over in your head. It had partly been cocaine’s fault you’d got into this mess, but it would get you out of this hangover now. 

You remembered you had some in your jacket pocket from the day before, leftover. Once you’d thought about it there was no stopping you. You didn’t have to take it all, you could stop yourself if you wanted. You pulled the tin out from your coat, sit it down on your dressing table while you pulled on some clothes. 

 You sat back at the dressing-table again once you were done and stared at the box. You’d not done it here more than once or twice. Never by yourself. Something about being at home with it made you feel guilty, possibly because you were surrounded by your friends who also happened to be DEA agents who would kill you if they found the stuff in the building. 

You picked up the box, contemplating it. You could get something done if you took it. Wouldn’t have to sit in your hungover state and wallow in self-pity until the headache left. You could go for a walk. Do nice things. Taking the cocaine would bring you nice things, as it always did. 

You opened it. 

“Morning,” Javier’s voice inside your apartment suddenly startled you, causing you to spill the contents of your box all over your dressing table. 

“Fuck,” You swore out loud. 

“Okay in there?” You regretted giving him a key. You did not need the interruption. His voice snapped you back to reality. You decided you didn’t have time, or rather not wanting to be caught red-handed, you decided to leave it and greet your surprise guest. 

“Good morning,” You said brightly, opening and closing your bedroom door tightly behind you. Javier was standing in the middle of your living room, a book in hand flicking through it. He discarded it back to the coffee table where he’d found it when you appeared. 

“Just wanted to check you were alright, you looked rough last night,” Javi said, “that cut looks sore,”

“It stings but it’ll be ok in a few days,” You shrugged. Javi looked at you strangely, “Did you come up here for something?” You asked. 

“You don’t remember what today is?” He asked. You frowned and thought for a moment. 

“It’s your birthday?” You asked slowly. 

“No,”

“It’s my birthday?”

“I don’t know when you’re birthday is,” 

“Javi I’ve obviously forgotten please just tell me,” You pleaded. 

“Searchblok, you and Steve swapped. Remember?”

“Shit!” You exclaimed. How could you have forgotten?! You scrambled back into your room to get changed, boxer shorts and a hole-ridden t-shirt wouldn’t cut it. 

“I should write you up for the mess you were in last night,” He called through the door as you rushed to get dressed, pulling on the nearest jeans on your floor. That’s not the only thing you should write me up for, you thought looking at the cocaine on your dressing table.

“I should write you up for sleeping with hookers,” You said back.

“Nowhere in my contract does it say I can’t! You however have a reckless behaviour clause,” He said. Your heart stopped at that, opening the door quickly to pop your head out.

“Javi-“

“I’m joking Rook, don’t worry!” Javier laughed. You rolled your eyes and shut the door again, pulling on a fresh shirt. A few seconds later you stepped out, buttoning the last of the clasps on your shirt. “I was worried about you but you’re fine so we’ll forget it ever happened,” 

“Thanks, Baby,” You grinned at him. Javi rolled his eyes.

“You need to stop that though,” 

 “You love it,” You teased him. He didn’t reply, turning on his heel and walking out. You hesitated for a moment, glancing back at your bedroom door. The coke was still lined up in there, calling to you. It would only take a few seconds to do it and get rid of your hangover for a few hours.

“Rookie, hurry up!” Javi called you from the hallway, audibly impatient. You decided against it, grabbing your keys and a jacket and running to catch up with him. He was already waiting by the truck by the time you got downstairs. “Did anything interesting happen last night, then?” Javi asked. You tried to think for a moment, you remembered something important had happened, something you’d wanted to tell him last night but you couldn’t remember what. You shrugged.

“Apart from getting this,” You gestured to the injury to your forehead, “I can’t remember. There was something but I don’t know,” 

“Can’t have been very important then,” Javi added. You shrugged and shook your head. 

“Guess not,” 

Next Chapter  -->

--

Finally we’ve come full circle, I am so sad it’s over I have absolutely loved writing this series. Again I want to say a massive thank you to everyone’s that read the series, it means more than you could imagine. I love you all. I’m going to have a cry and make a start on all the other things I’ve been neglecting to write this.

The ending is already written and posted so if you haven’t read it go enjoy :))

tag list: @beskar-falcon  @peterssweetpea @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @wille-zarr @danniburgh @rentheisopod @urbankaite2 @whataloadofmalarkey @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus @sara-alonso @xiao-lusi @all-good-things-have-an-ending @eternallyvenus @ajeff855 @mayangel19 @1950schick @pedrosmustache @wantingtobekorra @balmasedas @angelsunflxwer @brujademente​ @kingsmanandqueens​ @igotissueswithfictionalmen​

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Part 4

Sunday was a day off, but Erik was wired to get up early and jog around the HBCU campus in his sleeveless white tee and Omega sweats on his way to the campus gym. He ain't say shit to his passed out roommate like he typically would about what he'd done.

"You know....," she paused eyes zoned into his. He ain't know what the fuck she was talking about and stared right the fuck back thinking she better mind her business if she meant who was he fuckin.. "Erik," she laughed, "Stop playing.. you know what I'm talking about..."

"Sup Pete," he called to a nigga from his physics class.

"Hey..," Pete grunted tryna squat a barbell and Erik had to pause and watch. He hadn't seen him there before and judging by his build, he was brand new to weights. The more they talked, Erik started to coach him, recommending a starting weight and talking him through reps. He learned that Pete had been turned down by some girl and was tryna make gains, convinced no girl wanted a boney nigga. Erik couldn't dispute that he got way more bitches with a six pack than without.

Instead of disputing, Erik passed down an old routine he'd started when he himself was a beginner watching Pete type it into a note on his phone before starting his own workout. Even more than performing on the yard, he liked working out. The gym was his second home. If being a chemical engineer didn't work out, he'd be a personal trainer.

The issue was when he left the gym, thoughts and issues returned. He still felt a little thrown. He'd stroked a bitch yesterday and left her very visibly confused and disoriented which, honestly... wasn't the big deal. That was a typical Saturday for him. But it wasn't just any girl, it was a delta soror. Engine RED. She seemed upset...

He seemed to be misjudging her a lot and he hoped it ain't fuck with their ability to coexist. He ain't need the drama of her badmouthing him to other women. She knew a lot of fine ones, she had influence.

"I shoulda just rabbit-fucked her," he grumbled on his walk back. "Shoulda broke her shit up and let that be it."

At least she couldn't say he had a little dick or a weak stroke, she just.. wasn't feeling it.

"Hey, boo!"

Erik turned to see a chocolate doll jogging his way. Her first response was to reach up to hug him around his neck, grinning up at him like she'd won a free cruise.

"Luna.." He wrapped his hands around her waist.

"Why you ain't call me? I missed you," she pouted. "Where you been?"

"Around.. Been caught up with studying and practices, you know how shit go."

"Oh. Yeah..," she fake smiled as he stared. "...That's okay. Hey, you wanna tell me something?"

"Tell you what," he asked suddenly defensive.

"I promise you I dont.."

"ERIK," she squealed. "Boy stop I'm serious!"

"Look I gotta go. I'll catch you later."

She was still smiling for no reason when he walked away, it was weird. He wanted no parts and that was what he told his boy Geo when he saw him at the caf. Geo laughed, finding it hilarious.

"Yo chill," Erik muttered drinking his coke. He put his arm out for his boy to stop but Geo was on a roll talking shit about Luna. They had a class together so he knew all about her.

"That's what happens when you fuck them weird girls! Harry Potter ass bitch. Lord of the Rings ass bitch. They get attached and think you their weird lil friend," he whispered, twiddling his fingers before sputtering, making Erik roll his eyes to keep his composure.

"Aye! We like Harry Potter round here," Erik retorted. It was funny but he ain't wanna laugh though Geo already knew he was dying inside.

"Next thing you know..," Geo swallowed tryna collect himself from tearing up. "She whispering shit in latin.. and doing weird shit with her hands," he coughed imitating a girl they'd seen the other day, playing with her own fingers in her own world. Erik spit his drink tryna keep a straight face but failed as he pointed at Geo who was in tears.

"Fuck you, she nice," Erik laughed wiping his mouth on the back of his arm.

In organic chem, Erik's hand moved fast across his paper. He was scheduled to tutor a guy directly after class on what they'd learned all the way up to chemical reactions and then he had to do his often work. It was only after all of that that he had time to think about his current relationship with Brit. Were they friends now? Regular fuckbuddies?

"Oooh, fuck yew, she nice," Geo mocked in a small wimpy voice. "I like Harry Pott-" he couldn't even finish without laughing with his head down and Erik squeezed his shoulder trying not to fall from laughing with him. He was wrong for that. He ain't even like Luna he was just fuckin on her for something to do. Ain't nobody he knew really fuck with Luna like that. She was weird as hell!

"You evil," Erik teased putting it all on Geo as he walked away with tears in his own eyes.

"Stop fuckin Color Purple ass bitches, Erik," Geo yelled still laughing. "You and me must neva paht," he sang doing the hand thing. Erik was done.

It was Monday when he saw Luna again in passing and she looked highly upset, looking away where she'd usually go overboard to make eye contact. When he asked her what was the problem it turned out yesterday had been her birthday which was why she was being so weird. She'd told him multiple times over the past week but he'd been so caught up with Greek shit and the fact that.. he didn't really care.. that he'd forgot. It explained her mood though. "Oh damn my bad shorty.. Happy Birthday," he granted before moving on. He didn't even know how old she was.

Wednesday was when he saw Brit again. He was hanging with his nigga Josh who'd pledged kappa and a few folks from Josh's criminal justice class at the picnic tables. They were cool. That was when the pretty brown skin girl he'd been making eyes at at the table looked off and Erik followed her gaze.

"BRITT-ANYYYY, GIIIRLL," she cheered, dancing in her seat and Erik's eyes widened seeing Brit approach, giggling in cahoots with the girl as she danced up to the table. This was a little awkward. Erik hesitated, thinking of making an excuse to walk away. He could be literally anywhere else so it was no big deal to just leave. Making eye contact, she nodded at him as if there was no bitterness or bad feeling.

"Sup Erik," she smiled and there was no change from how she'd been acting from jump. Had he gotten her wrong again?

"Sup RED," he grinned looking her red delicious ass up and down as she stood with her hand on her hip in a red cut out blouse with white pants. She wore that same signature red lipstick and then he noticed... her hair was in a ponytail today.

"Oh did I mess your hair up," he blurted watching the  flash in her eyes as well as the neck whip of Josh who looked very interested. "I know when I'm practicing, I play too much," Erik added making the sexual wording seem like an accident...

"Oh for a minute..," Josh scoffed, smirking as he looked between the two. "Hm.. nevermind."

"Yeah, keep your mind out the gutter," Brit scolded. Erik was thoroughly entertained. He remained on good behavior for the next 20 minutes and then it was time to head to class.

"Hey Erik," Brit called to his back as he was already 8 feet away. He turned back. "We should hang more often."

The meaning wasn't lost on him though no one else thought anything of it. Looked like he hadn't fucked it up afterall.

"Good fuckin wit you," he smirked causing her to smile at their shared secret.

"You two need to use better word choices," one of the guys smirked. That was Erik's cue to go to class before he said some more shit.

Most importantly, he thought he'd fucked things up with her but no. She was cool.. legitimately cool. In fact, he could see them kickin it just because they genuinely got along. It only took 20 minutes of going back and forth at the picnic table to realize they had a similar sense of humor. That was something they shared.. other than having lips of fire.

Speaking of, he wanted those again. When he reached his dorm room. He decided to kick his roommate out and he called Brit.

"Hey. Come to my room, you know where it is?"

"No and I'm not going over there. You can come here, you know where I am," she said hanging up. He stared at the phone like it was possessed. The girl had lost her mind talking like he didn't just make her toes curl last week. She'd been touched by an angel.

He could see he'd have to do some reminding.

"Tuh. No we won't." He had his bag of tricks and none of them were for kids. "You want me to fuck you, fuck you then nah it's finna sound like National Geographic on here."

"Matterfact," he muttered, hastily going through his belongings. He assembled a kit. A 'don't you ever on your life' kit consisting of items specifically chosen to carry out his plan, shoved down in a drawstring bag. He showered briefly before throwing on new briefs with the same outfit and he was out the door headed to her building. He texted when he arrived for her to escort him up.

"Sup," he nodded to her roommate whose name he'd already forgotten. There was another girl in there as well and he wondered why there were so many people.

"You don't mind them hearing you," he asked looking out the bedroom before Brit came and shut the door.

"Nah, they cool. Besides, we'll keep it down," she eyed sternly.

"I want it like last time actually, that shit was good," she smiles.

"What?"

"Like last time... do it like that."

He was twice as confused. Her entire speech last time was about why he shouldn't fuck like that and suddenly she was telling him he should.

"Am I having a stroke...?" She was playing too many games.

"No, but I'm ready for you to stroke me, nice and slow. Do it like last week.."

"But you said-"

"Forget what I said last week, I changed my mind. I'm a woman, it's what we do," she said heading to her bed to take off her clothes. This time he watched as she pulled her blouse over her head. He still helped with the hooks of her bra.

"Did you know you was gone get dick today," he questioned.

"Pfft.. No. Why?"

Her panties matched her bra. That was rare in the women he fucked. He just shook his head. "Nothing.. lay down."

Laying her back with his hand, he had a full view of her like before. He opened his bag up and her eyes started to question immediately.

"What's that," she asked quickly.

"A bag."

"But what's IN it?"

"Your orgasm. Want it?"

"Not like that," she frowned. "Uh uh. I don't know what you reaching for but we got everything we need between us. Just do what you did last time."

Damn, he couldn't experiment?

Thinking about it, he figured it would make sense.. her wanting to experience sex the way she had her first time. Maybe she needed to know if her cumming like that was a fluke. Yeah. It made more and more sense the more he thought of it. He'd humor her... it was only her second time afterall.

"Aight, it's a rematch then," he nodded approaching the bed.  He opened the bag again, but this time she didn't comment and he pulled out his condom, setting the bag on her nightstand.

[supremeuppityone]

This is a sequel to Chapter 81: Part 8 — Klarosummer Bingo in my Klaroline series, A Beautiful Symmetry. This was written for Klaroline Bingo @klaroline-events. Prompt: Working. As con artists, Caroline, Bonnie and Katherine knew the risks, but when the Mikaelson brothers conned them, their fight AND flight response kicked into overdrive.

Chapter 122: The Hamptons — Part 2

“It is safer to beg than to take, but it is finer to take than to beg.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Soul of Man Under Socialism

           Nothing was more satisfying than pushing Klaus’ shiny Jaguar over the cliff. It was the final item on Caroline’s to do list as she, Bonnie and Katherine left the Hamptons. Caroline stood with her friends, refusing to flinch as the sound of shattering glass and screeching metal collided with the jagged rocks below. She got sloppy. She should’ve realized a mid-market convertible less than $100,000 would never have been the vehicle of choice for a jet-setting playboy whose family money went back generations.

           “Fucking Mikaelsons played us,” Katherine snarled, brown eyes flashing angrily. “We set up the perfect con, a final score so we could retire, only for it to blow up in our faces when we found out they were trying to con us!”

           Bonnie opened the cooler at their feet, twisting off the top of the beer bottle and taking a deep gulp. “We got them in the end, though. Posted all their fake identities on that stupid Hamptons gossip site. They’re burned in the Northeast now — I even tipped off the highway patrol to be on the lookout for Kol’s Rover.”

           “Did we use cornstarch or flour to mimic the coke the cops will find in the back,” Caroline asked with a mocking grin, clinking her bottle with Bonnie’s in celebration.

           Katherine chuckled darkly. “Flour. But only on the bottom. The top are a few kilos courtesy of our old Markos connection.”

           The women shared a laugh, but Caroline found her gaze straying back to the wreckage below. It had been years since a man had tricked her. Since she’d let a man get close. Still seething over Klaus’ betrayal, her tone was fierce as she said, “The Mikaelsons no longer matter. It’s time to move on to our next job.”  

          “Working shouldn’t be this hard,” Caroline muttered, her voice muffled behind her mask as she polished the alabaster jar on the lathe equipment. She carefully smoothed the sides, ensuring the machine work wouldn’t be visible.  

           Green eyes narrowed behind her goggles as Bonnie advised, “You should use the bow-drill next to ensure modern tool marks aren’t detected.”

           “Seriously?!” Caroline rolled her eyes, certain that underneath that mask was her friend’s signature scowl. “Do you want to do this instead? It’s not like I’ve ever painstakingly crafted forgeries from five different ancient civilizations. Oh, wait — I have.” She hated how shrill her voice sounded and she knew Bonnie and Katherine were dealing with the same anger and disappointment about what happened in the Hamptons. It wasn’t fair that she was taking her misery out on them. As Bonnie started to storm out of the workshop, Caroline called after her, “Wait. That was shitty. I’m sorry.”

           Bonnie sighed, distractedly running a hand through her sleek bob. “You miss Klaus.” At Caroline’s indignant snort, she shook her head. “Lie to yourself all you want, but I see it and Kat would too if she pulled her head out of her ass. And I miss Kol with his stupid limericks and crazy stories that somehow always start with skydiving and end in the back of a police car.”

           “Kat’s avoiding thinking about Elijah by memorizing campus security and building schematics at Berkeley.”

           The women shared a look of commiseration, knowing that Katherine’s hyper-focusing was almost as dangerous as when she spent too much time at the gun range. She didn’t forgive or forget. Elijah was fortunate that were on the other coast.

           Picking up a steel file, she carefully ran it across the wide base of the jar. “I trust she’s working out the reason why there’s a huge lag time in the security guard patrols on Tuesday and Thursday evenings in the Hildegard Building?”

           Bonnie chuckled, “Figure drawing classes are on those nights. Nude figure drawing. The pervy old guards are trying to make some Girls Gone Wild fantasy happen.”

           “Eww. Also, perfect — I can have the other three jars ready by next Tuesday and Kat can make the switch then.” Caroline was responsible for the main part of the Berkeley con — carve perfect copies of the ancient Egyptian alabaster vessels that Katherine would swap out for the real artifacts. Bonnie already had been hired by Berkeley to authenticate their latest archaeological find. She’d forged impeccable credentials as an Egyptian art authenticator with an emphasis on Old Kingdom artifacts.

           Once Bonnie declared Caroline’s work as authentic, the girls would skip town, leaving Berkeley officials none the wiser that their ‘ancient Egyptian’ artifacts displayed were less than two weeks old. It was a familiar con, one they’d pulled off successfully multiple times across the States. They needed this win. The Mikaelson debacle had shaken their confidence, and the women were desperate to get things back to normal.

           “I’ll leave you to it, then.” Heaving a heavy sigh, Bonnie added, “I should probably go check up on Kat in case she decides setting something on fire would make her feel better.”

           Shaking her head, Caroline got back to work, fervently wishing she knew what would make her feel better. She kept thinking back to the argument she overheard between Klaus and Kol.

           “Don’t tell me this is just another job for you,” Klaus replied angrily, “You got too close to Bonnie and Elijah’s all but forgotten the rest of the world exists thanks to Katherine.”

           Kol scoffed, “And Caroline? I saw that ring — don’t think I’m not aware of what that means to you.”

           She stupidly kept the ring on a long chain around her neck, tucked away under her blouse so her friends wouldn’t see. Why did she do this to herself? Because she heard Klaus’ desperation. However the brothers’ con had begun, somewhere along the way, they’d caught feelings and everything had changed. Just like it had for Caroline and her friends.

           But she also kept recalling little details that she should’ve picked up on, things that could’ve unraveled Klaus’ con sooner had she not been so distracted by how she felt about him.

           With a dimpled smirk from Klaus, Caroline kept forgetting she was in the middle of a con. Despite his seductive smiles, she couldn’t help but notice the genuine excitement he showed when she surprised him with a trip to the art museum. From her extensive research into his background, she knew he had an affinity for art, including a graduate degree in art history. “Isn’t it breathtaking,” she asked, pointing out the beautifully preserved Madonna and Child canvas.

           “It’s an impressive Caravaggio,” Klaus said dismissively, already eyeing the next exhibit.

           Frowning, she asked, “I thought this was a Verrocchio? You’d mentioned he had been your focus when you studied Italian Renaissance art?”

           A slight flush creeped up his neck, and he kissed her knuckles as he purred in his accented voice, “I appreciate a woman who can identify the rebirth of classic antiquity.” There was an endearing hesitancy in his tone as he said, “Actually, I’d like to share my latest passion with you.” With an excited twinkle in his eye, he guided her toward the next gallery, one filled with vibrant colors and bold brush strokes that instantly captured her attention.

           “These are powerful,” she murmured, admiring the series of abstract portraits.

           He squeezed her hand, whispering excitedly, “I discovered GyoBeom An at a low point in my life; his work is an explosive blend of constructing and deconstructing images using a bold, contemporary palette. Even though the brush strokes are strong, almost violent in places, to me, it feels like the art reveals what’s hidden in a whisper rather than a shout.”

           His impassioned speech struck a chord with her, and she was alarmed to realize she’d started to tear up. There were so many things she was hiding from Klaus. So, she told him the only thing she knew to be true. “I’m honored you’d share this with me.”

           Klaus looked nervous, but the sincerity of his tone seemed genuine. “You’re special, Caroline. I wouldn’t share this with anyone else.” And then he kissed her until they were both breathless.

           It was a beautiful memory. And it was all a lie. Just two cons lying to each other, Caroline thought bitterly. She pushed aside the flood of memories that kept trying to break free, and instead bent her head to her work once more.

                              ____________________________________

           Caroline’s expectations for the buyer went up a notch when she got her first look at The Bitter End over on Clement Street. Not only did the bar’s name match her mood, but the grimy, threadbare atmosphere made her feel at home. Better than the pretentious clubs in the Hamptons. Her contact informed her that the dive bar was in a quiet neighborhood away from tourists — the perfect spot to negotiate terms.

           The con was nearly complete — Katherine effortlessly swapped out the ancient artifacts for Caroline’s forgeries and Bonnie had done such an outstanding job ‘authenticating’ that Berkeley had offered her a coveted spot on their latest dig in Karnak, examining a newly discovered series of tunnels underneath the Temple of Amun-Ra. (Katherine was still trying to convince them it was a sign they should take their skills to the exclusive spa in nearby Luxor and run either the Heiress Special or the Desert Rose cons.)

           She crossed the threshold, eyes quickly adjusting to the dim light inside the dive bar. She was there to settle the final part of their con — agree on the price for the ancient Egyptian alabaster jars. Something brushed across the back of her neck, and she turned sharply, ready to deliver an elbow to whichever drunk decided to get too gropey. But no one was there. Suddenly on edge, she headed toward the back booth, where the buyer waited in the shadows.

           The scent of leather and cedar flooded her senses, making her heart pound. He was here. Bonnie would tell her to run. Katherine would tell her to break his nose and then run. Caroline’s curiosity was piqued as she contemplated a third option.

           “Hello, sweetheart,” Klaus greeted her, lovingly caressing the syllables of her name with that seductive accent of his. “Are you armed?”

           “Perhaps. You?”

           Gray eyes twinkling, he replied, “Only with righteous indignation. My brothers and I nearly emptied our bag of tricks calling in favors to make that spot of trouble with the police and the coke disappear.” Leaning forward, his lips curled into a dimpled smirk as he added, “And then there was that unfortunate accident. Going after the car — you certainly know how to cut a man to the quick.”  

           Arms crossed in front of her, Caroline asked defiantly, “Clearly, you scared off my buyer, so you must want something — what is it?”

           “Answers. From you and your cohorts’ actions, it was obvious you figured out what we were up to. You three don’t strike me as cowards — why not confront us?”

           She scowled, not appreciating how close he’d become. He was trying to force a connection. Bastard. “A good grifter knows when to cut her losses. It turned out we were all just con artists trying to scam each other. There was nothing to be gained from staying.”

           A hint of steel entered his gaze as he growled, “Or, there was everything to gain. I thought I fell for a woman that forever would be beyond my reach. The little fictions we told each other gave way to something real. And then we discover we’re even more perfectly suited than we could’ve imagined.”

           Blue eyes widened at his words. What Klaus was suggesting was insane — there could never be trust between cons. “Seriously?! Are you out of your mind? We’d constantly be suspicious of each other, waiting to be screwed over.”

           “Details,” he answered with a careless shrug. “Tell me you haven’t missed me every day since you ran off.”

           “I haven’t,” Caroline answered flatly, refusing to give into this insanity.

           She was prepared for him to lash out, but instead, he flashed her a knowing smile while digging in his pocket. Suddenly, he dangled her long silver chain between them, complete with the beautiful ring he’d made her. That he’d stolen right off her neck.

           Klaus’ desire-filled gaze was intense as he told her, “Good thing for both of us you’re a terrible liar.”

[wylanvnneck]

Age Rating: T for Troglodyte

Summary:  Hunger Games modern day AU, Peeta is a policeman and Katniss just broke the law. Kinda. Whoops. 'Tis a oneshot. 

(Also, mentions of nudity in relation to streaking, so if you’re not comfortable with that kinda stuff this isn’t the fic for you.)

On AO3 | Can you spot all the references?

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

It was all Johanna’s fault. Against Johanna Mason and alcohol, I never stood a chance.

‘District 12’ was a pretty popular nightclub, famous for its signature drink ‘The Nightlock’, so that’s where Johanna, Madge and I had decided to take Annie for her Bachelorette party, she’d just wanted a small get together with ‘The Girls’ so there we were.

The night began when we all met up at Annie’s apartment to get ready together and ‘pre-drink’, ‘cus there was no way in hell we could afford to buy that many drinks at such a fancy place. We dress up, do each other’s makeup, paint our nails, exchange gossip, tease Annie about her upcoming marriage and take lots and lots of shots in between.

By the time we head out to walk the few blocks to the nearby club we’re decked in the sexiest clothes we own, which for me equates to a little black dress with a lacy feather design on the back that Jo’d forced me to buy on a rare trip to H&M, which apparently made my bod look fab, her words not mine. Madge has gone crazy with the makeup on my face, with black wing tip eyeshadow to match the dress.

She herself is looking elegant as usual in her midnight blue catsuit and heels, while Jo is in a dangerous looking pair of black fishnet tights and a leather top that threatened to slip off and reveal its secrets at any minute. Annie is in her skirt and top, rocking a shiny pair of silver stilettos which for me would have spelt out ‘death trap’, but she pulls it off.

The club is loud and noisy, strobe lights switching colours every few moments, dizzying my senses. While I’m still recovering Jo’s grabbed us all by the hands and dragged us to the bar, even though we’re all pretty tipsy already. Looks like I’m getting smashed tonight, but hey, what better occasion to get drunk at than your best friend’s bachelorette party?

We order our drinks from the hot brown eyed bartender, who’s smoothly mixing beverages and flirting with us as he prepares our drinks, cocktails for Madge and Annie, a Nightlock for me and a Jack and Coke for Johanna.

Annie is blushing and I’m surprised that Annie even recognizes flirting at this point, she and her groom-to-be Finnick having been attached at the hip since freshman year in high school.

Madge is more receptive but we all know that she’s irrevocably devoted to my childhood best friend Gale and that she’d never go further than casual flirting. Johanna of course has no such qualms as she shamelessly responds, with me as an unwilling witness as she chats the guy up and I impatiently wait for my Nightlock.

It’s worth the wait though, the dusky blue liquid is enticing, drawing you in like a sweet poison. This was definitely worth the long queue at the entrance and the rather steep pricing.

Now that I’ve sufficiently imbibed in enough alcohol I’m feeling brave enough to hit the dance floor with my friends and Madge, Annie and I leave Johanna to her conquest and find our way to the middle of the room where the space is packed with sweaty, writhing bodies.

I’m not much of a dancer, but the Nightlock seems to have taken effect and I’m filled with a delightful buzzing sensation so I just give myself up to the music, following along to the seductive rhythm.

My surroundings blur, as people dance around us, couples play tonsil hockey, my friends and I do the macarena and bump hips and I barely notice when Jo returns after having secured brown eyes’ phone number and carrying a fresh supply of drinks.

I’m feeling adrenalized and the buzzing sensation increases with this next round and we’re laughing and panting and the music drowns out everything and the lights are shining and it’s the most exhilarated I’ve felt in a while, considering how run down I am each day after my college classes and part time job at the clinic.

For tonight, I’m just Katniss Everdeen, a free unrestrained rebel.

Hours pass and it’s 2.00 am and we’re staggering out the door, blurry-eyed and red faced. The deserted sidewalk is so pretty and black. The trees are so brilliantly green. Trees. Lights. Life.

I’m definitely hammered.

The rest of the girls don’t seem too sober either, but I’m the biggest lightweight out of all of us so it’s no surprise that I’m so far gone.

We’re giggling and talking and I hear Annie start up a game of Truth or Dare. It’s a teenager’s game but who cares and besides, it’s her night.

Madge starts us off. “Alright Bridesy, Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Ok, what’s your least favorite thing about Finnick?”

She contemplates this for a while before replying, “I suppose he can be a little too proud of his looks,” she blushes.

The rest of us let out a collective snort. It’s certainly true that Finnick could be more than a little vain, but it was also true that being around Annie made him less so. Besides, when he wasn’t busy preening his blond hair in front of a mirror he was a pretty intelligent and loyal friend.

“I’ll say,” Jo smirks. “Now, ask me one, a Dare.”

Annie dares her to give a 3 minute lecture on safe sex, which ends up with us guffawing as Jo proceeds to explain the science of birth control pills and the mechanics of a condom in a posh British voice that sounds vaguely Australian.

When she’s done and we’ve finally recovered our breath she turns to me, “Alright brainless, Truth or Dare?”

Her black eyes are challenging me, and the alcohol makes me stupid.  

“Dare.”

It’s a testament to how drunk I am that I don’t immediately panic at the devilish gleam in her eyes. We’ve made it about 2 blocks from the club and we’ve still got a few more to go to get back to Annie’s apartment where we’re all spending the night. The streets are mostly deserted but the occasional car cruises along.

“Alright Kitkat, here’s what you gotta do. I dare you to streak around this block.”

At first, my alcohol hazed brain doesn’t comprehend what she’s saying. And then it hits me. Annie and Madge are doubled over with laughter and cheering, the traitors.

My cheeks are red, “You want me to...to strip and run around this entire block?” I ask, just to make sure.

“Yup,” the she-devil responds. “Come on, Everdeen, live a little.”

Easy for her to say, she’d done this millions of times, the worst that had happened was that she’d gotten off with just a warning from a mall security officer that she’d managed to charm. I, on the other hand, have always been extremely private about my body, not that I thought there was anything wrong with it but I preferred not to flaunt it. The dress I was wearing tonight is the most daring clothing I own.

However, tonight, I’m feeling daring. Or stupid. Probably very stupid. But it’s 2.15 in the morning, the streets are practically deserted, no pedestrians are around to see me other than my friends. And after all tonight I had been letting go, throwing off my constraints. Besides, when I’m 80 these’ll be the stories I tell my grandkids, right?

Well if I’m drunk enough to think about being 80 and having grandkids, plural, I’m drunk enough to run around a block naked.

So I do it. I take a quick glance at our surroundings to make sure no one’s around before I reach down and peel off my dress, while my treacherous friends let out ridiculous wolf whistles. I hand the black garment to Madge along with my black boots. The chilly night air hits my body and goosebumps erupt on my skin, pale in the dimly lit street lights as I cover my chest with my arms. I feel the blood rushing to my face.

“Well?” Jo raises an eyebrow at me, as if to say go on then, do it .

I take a deep breath and break off into a run. I feel as swift as lightning. I’m unstoppable. I’m running around the streets of the city in my lacy underwear and no bra as my dress was backless. I’m practically as naked as the day I was born as I race along the sidewalk and I’m burning up and I feel like a girl on fire.

I quickly circle the short distance and I’m just about to make it back to where my friends are standing, howling with amusement at the sight of me. The end is in sight.

And that’s when I hear it. The sound of a car approaching. Oh hell.

The situation gets ten times worse when I catch sight of the vehicle that’s just turned into the street. It’s a police patrol car.

Oh, the universe was a cruel, cruel place.

                                                    * * *

There’s no place to run and no place to hide in the open street. There’s no escape for me, the lone policeman behind the wheel knows it and I know it. So, heart pounding and with a sinking feeling in my chest I simply walk the rest of the way to my now silent group of friends and stretch my hand out for my dress while he stops the car by the pavement and steps out of it to approach me.

I manage to slip on my dress before resignedly turning around to face him, and when I do I’m struck speechless. In front of me is the most handsome policeman I’ve ever seen. Scratch that, one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen.  

Ordinarily I’d be disgusted at myself for internally drooling so much over a cute guy, but this isn’t ordinary Katniss. So I stare to my heart’s content. His eyes are the first thing I notice, a stark blue, standing out in the dark early morning light. His ashy blonde hair falls in waves over his forehead, and his skin is pale. He also looks pretty muscular, no doubt as a result of regular training. Shoot me now.

I’m so absorbed in staring at him that I almost don’t notice what he’s saying, “Excuse me ma’am, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you in for being drunk and disorderly.” He sounds almost apologetic, despite his formal tone and his cheeks are tinged slightly red but that’s probably nothing compared to the embarrassed blush on my face.

“Don’t worry Katniss, I’ll call Gale, he’ll know what to do,” I hear Madge squeak from the side while Officer Blue Eyes attaches a pair of cuffs on me.

I turn my head and give her a quick nod before I’m gently ushered into the backseat of the patrol car. The drive is silent and I’m almost completely sober now. No more liquid courage for me, and I’m left feeling disoriented and anxious, starting to panic a little as I resolutely look outside the window as we drive to the station, unseeing of my surroundings.

“So, wild night, huh?” His voice is a slightly husky one. I could listen to it all day. And night. All day and night. Maybe I’m still a little intoxicated.

I let out a dry laugh that sounds rather high pitched, “You could say that.”

“I remember what that was like, you know, back when I wasn’t a cop yet. Highschool seems like a million years ago” He has an easy smile on his face that I can see from the rearview mirror.

“Doesn’t it. Although, I’ve never really been a huge party person. Tonight was an exception.” I wish I could cover my face with my cuffed hands.

I see him look at me through the mirror, blue eyes filled with sympathy. “Whoops, looks like it just wasn’t your night then.”

We’ve pulled up to the Police Station and he’s reversing the car into a parking spot around the back. “I guess not,’ I agree with a wry half-smile on my face.

I’m escorted into the building and it’s practically deserted, the sound of the ceiling fans working filling up the silence as two officers sit hunched around a desk examining a computer screen while sipping on what looks to be mugs of coffee.

Caffeine. I’m jealous.

Officer Blue Eyes exchanges a quick word with one of them and she simply waves back with her hand. He takes me to the back of the room through a short passage that leads to a holding cell, a small square room with barred walls through which I can peek at the corridor that leads to the main office we just walked through. There's a small bench attached to the wall, with a rolled up mat and a pillow on it where he indicates for me to sit. My hands are released from the cuffs and I rub at my wrists.

We haven’t spoken since we got out of the car, but now he says, “Alright then...ma’am, I’m gonna need to ask you some questions.”

“Hit me with it.” I slump against the wall. Might as well get comfy, this was gonna be a long night.

“Ok, well first off what’s your name?”

“Katniss Everdeen.”

“Age?”

“22”

“Are you in college?”

“Yep. But I don’t live within campus grounds.” I give him my address as well.

“Any part time jobs?”

“I’m a part time assistant at Paw Prints Veterinary Clinic.”

‘’Ok great, thank you,” he’s been writing my replies down on a plain spiral notepad. “Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

He turns and walks away and as he does a question pops, unbidden, out of my mouth, “Wait. What’s your name?” I’d been trying to read his name tag since we reached the cell but I couldn’t seem to make it out.

“Peeta. Peeta Mellark.” His smile is breathtaking.

I scrunch my eyes closed and let out a soft groan the moment he’s out of sight. Stupid, stupid Katniss. Why didn��t I just say no to that idiotic dare? Why did I drink so much? Why were cops allowed to be hot?

What was wrong with me?

My eyes are still closed and I’m leaning against the cell wall, contemplating my life decisions that had brought me to this moment, when I hear footsteps approaching.

Peeta was back and he was carrying what looked to be a steaming paper cup and a brown paper bag.

“Here, this should help with a hangover,” he hands me the cup through the bars. It’s steaming hot coffee and the aroma reminds me of Heaven.

I’m ravenous and thirsty and I gulp the brown liquid down, relishing the invigorating feeling despite the fact that I’ve almost certainly burnt my tongue.

When I look up again he’s leaning against the bars, watching me with those intense baby blue eyes. I would feel abashed by how impatiently I drank my coffee but I seemed to have reached my quota of embarrassment for the day. Probably even my quota for the year, forget a day.

“So Katniss, what’s gonna happen now is that you’ll be held here overnight until you’re sober and discharged tomorrow morning, most probably you’ll just be given an official warning as this looks to be your first offense.” His tone is calming and helps to slow my racing heartbeat. He’s still clutching that brown paper bag in his hand.

I nod slowly in response. That wasn’t too bad. I could live with just a few more hours in this claustrophobic space.

He hands me the bag. “Here, in case you’re hungry.”

I look at the bag and there seems to be something soft and circular inside. I think of that old cop cliché and I’m almost certain it’s a doughnut. Instead, it’s a soft looking bun and as I’m opening up the bag further the smell of...cheese? Reaches my nose. My stomach gives a low rumble. I really hope it wasn’t audible.

“It’s a uh...a cheese bun. I make them myself,” his voice sounds a little shy and my heart gives a lurch. Who was this man and why had I been deemed worthy of meeting him? Granted, not in the most ideal circumstances, but still.

“You bake?” The question comes out sounding almost accusatory. “I mean, you- you have the time to bake, you know, being a policeman?” and do it really well, judging from the scents wafting my way.

“My dad actually owns a bakery so he lets me come in after hours and do some baking. It’s surprisingly therapeutic after a hard day at work,” his lips quirk upwards on the left side.

“Wow. That’s...wow. The best that I can cook is a pretty mean mac and cheese,” I confess.

He lets out a soft laugh, “Well, that’s a very useful dish. You can go ahead and eat you know, don’t mind me.”

So I do. It’s delicious. The first bite melts me. It’s soft and salty and creamy and absolutely delectable. I involuntarily let out a long, low moan.

He’s looking at me with that quirked mouth and it almost looks like he’s smirking.  “That good, huh?”

“Mhngmm” I garble out. I sound like a chipmunk with food in its mouth but I couldn’t care less.

I force myself to pace my eating this time and manage to intelligibly speak. “So you’re a policeman and a full time baker. Any other super powers?”

“Ah, no. I’m afraid not. Being a policeman doesn’t offer much downtime. I love it though, it’s a pretty fulfilling job.”

But perhaps enough downtime for a girlfriend? I’m tempted to ask, which is ridiculous. It’s none of my business if he's dating anyone. I’m just the drunken girl he’s arrested and taken pity on, enough pity to keep me company for the moment and even share the best baked treat I’ve had in my life with me.

But who cared what motivated him as long as he was here, right? So we talk and we talk and we talk, exchanging questions then jokes then stories. I tell him about my college classes and Environmental Science course and my part time job at the vet.

I tell him about the little girl with plaited blond hair who’d recently brought in an ill-tempered stray cat named Buttercup who for some reason had instantly hated me and proceeded to scratch me a grand total of 18 times.

He laughs and tells me about his little brother Rye and his first time making bread on his own, which ended up in a charred block of dough. He tells me about a recent case of his where this woman named Effie had sent threatening letters to the wrong lady, a distinguished corporate lawyer, rather than the Starbucks cashier that was actually her husband’s mistress and the hilarity that ensued after she found out.

The conversation is so easy and I’m enamoured by this man and the last thought to enter my head before he eventually gets called away and has to leave and I finally succumb to my alcohol induced mini-coma is of a pair of striking blue eyes.

                                                           * * *

A few hours later I wake up to the sunlight streaming through the bars of my cell. I’m groggy and my mouth is dry. My hair feels matted with sweat and the dark strands are probably still forming the remnants of a long gone fancy braid. My lacy black dress is wrinkled beyond saving.

“Morning!” Says a male voice that is entirely too chipper.

I blink a few times before I can finally focus on Peeta who’s standing in the now open doorway of my cell.

“Morning…” I reply, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

“So, you’re in luck Miss Everdeen, someone’s already come to take you home.”

“Katniss. You can call me Katniss.” I pause. “Wait, someone’s here for me? Must be Gale.”

“That’s the one...a Gale Hawthorne?”

“Oh thank god he’s here. I did not relish having to stay here any longer than I needed to.”

Peeta’s face looks more guarded than it had last night. Or rather, earlier this morning.

‘Yes, well, he’s here, so we can process you out.”

“Great.”

I’m taken to a desk at the front of the office where a middle-aged officer with lengthy dirty blonde hair sits behind the counter, looking bored with the world. He eyes me uninterestedly and as Peeta and I get closer I see that his name tag reads ‘Officer Abernathy’.

Officer Abernathy sluggishly carries out all the formalities and issues me an official warning. There's nothing for me to collect as the only thing I had with me when I was arrested were my clothes. It’d be a long time before I decided to take those off anywhere that wasn’t in the privacy of my apartment.

Peeta accompanies me to the entrance, he is strangely silent but he looks like he is thinking a million thoughts.

I can spot Gale’s Volvo in the parking lot from here, and I can see him walking up to the station entrance to come and get me.

“So, that’s your boyfriend I’m assuming?” Peeta finally speaks as we stand in the doorway waiting for him.

The idea shocks me, although it makes sense that he’d come to that conclusion. Madge used to think that Gale and I were an item too, but he’s always been more like my protective older brother rather than a lover.

“What? Gale? Ew no, that’d be like incest, it’d be almost illegal.”

He raises a lone eyebrow at me, smiling.

Right. I hadn’t exactly shown the greatest sense of distinguishment between what was legal and what was not. I blush in his presence yet again.

Gale comes up to us and his brown eyes are twinkling. “Well, Catnip, I gotta say, when Madge called and said one of you had gotten arrested I thought for sure it’d be Johanna. Guess I was wrong.”

I narrow my eyes at him, “Yes, well, Johanna’s got a worse punishment than getting arrested coming her way when I get my hands on her." I remember the officer standing next to me. “In the most innocent way of course.”

The quirked lip is back. I swear, for me, it was a weapon more lethal than the gun he carries in his holster. I blame that thought on the headache that I am currently dealing with.

‘Right..so uh, I guess this is it.” There’s a sinking feeling in my gut. I would probably never see Peeta Mellark ever again. Unless I decided to get arrested in this area again and hope to spend an hour or two in his company. The idea had merit. But no, I was already on my first official warning and I probably shouldn’t push the legal system.

I stick out my hand to him. He takes it and shakes it gently, his eyes seem to see inside me as they meet mine.

Almost reluctantly I turn away and start following Gale to his car.

“Hey, Katniss.” That husky voice suddenly calls out from behind me. “I’ll be picking you up at 8.00 tomorrow, just so you know. It’s a date."

I whirl around. He’s grinning and he’s got an annoyingly attractive cocky look on his face.

“Oh really? And how would you know where to pick me up from?”

He brings out his spiral bound notepad from his uniform pocket. “In here, remember?”

I flush yet again and this time I know that it’s definitely not the last time I’d be doing it in front of him. Oh no. If I had my way, this sweet, funny, intelligent and handsome officer and baker would be seeing that blush on my face for years to come.

“On one condition. There have to be cheese buns.”

“You got it,” he salutes me, beaming.

I’m walking on sunshine as I quicken my stride to catch up with Gale who’s already started up the car and as I do I hear a voice that sounds suspiciously like Officer Abernathy’s yelling from the station, “Good on you, sonny boy, you don’t see a girl like that everyday.”

                                                       * * *

A couple years later and I’m in a lacy dress once more, white this time, with the added accessory of a bouquet of Primroses. Next to me stands the man who arrested me all those years ago and won me over with a combination of his personality and his insanely good cheese buns. I like to tell him that it’s the buns that were really the deciding factor for me, but we both know that’s a lie.

He leans down and presses his lips to my ear as the photographer stops to reposition his camera.

“You know Katniss, you should have just walked up that aisle in your underwear, it’s my favourite look of yours.”

I glare at him. At least, I try to, but it’s hard with those blue eyes looking back at me.

“Keep up the jokes, mister, and you might not see that look again for a while,” I threaten him.

The smug look on his face is immediately wiped off.

                                                          * * *

I’m not yet 80, just a couple more years to go, but as I look at that familiar pair of periwinkle eyes gazing back at me with love in them, I feel like a young woman again. I turn back to the tiny toddlers playing on the ground in front of me.

Someday I’ll tell them, I’ll tell them the story of how their grandparents met. I’d tell them how Peeta likes to say that the only moral of the story is that you shouldn’t break the law, but I’d say that it was really that you probably shouldn’t play such a high stakes game of Truth or Dare, or simply ‘don’t accept stupid dares.’

And yet, when I look at where it got me, I suppose I should also say that there are certainly much worse games to play.

[chiseler]

THE CHISELER INTERVIEWS ANDY McCARTHY

Chiseler: Please tell our readers when you began digging into obscurantist concerns -- these strange and neglected corners of New York history. Give us a sense of how it all started, and some idea of the scope here. Andy McCarthy: I worked as a New York City tour guide on the red doubledecker buses between 2004 and 2011, and Times Square was one of the highlights of the tour. The tour began and ended in Times Square — New York begins and ends in Times Square.  The history of the world's entertainment district is a big subject — lots to talk about and always more to learn. Plus everyone hates Times Square.  Elmo probably even hates it. So it was even more inspired to find the appreciation for the experience of it as it is now in the present.  Like going to a Starbucks in the East Village and finding yourself talking to the ghost of Joey Ramone, who loves the Tall Blonde.  West 42nd Street in particular was always a synapse-inducing subject — it isn't that it's obscurantist (except maybe for understanding the real estate chronology), but that there are a million ways of approaching it — it's the brightest neighborhood in America after all — the old theaters, the showbiz history, labor action, smut lore, the "cleanup" and failed redevelopments before the final wrecking ball in the 1990s, etc. Anyhow in 2012, film programming friends were putting together a series that revolved around the history of W. 42nd Street — they called it THE DEUCE, after the nickname for the block between Seventh and Eighth Avenues. The idea was to program a movie that once played in one of the theaters on the Deuce, and I would perform an intro monologue/ slideshow about the history of the theater. We did our first screenings in the backroom of Videology on Bedford Ave in Williamsburg, and then evolved to the proper movie chambers of Nitehawk Cinema in 2013, where as of March 2020 we have done about 80 screenings. Don't call me an expert but the pop legacy and damaged psyche yielded by the Glittering Gulch has consumed my research panascope like a large bucket of stale popcorn you can't stop shoving it in with gulps of fountain Coke during a matinee of Wolfen. For the last six years I've worked as a reference librarian at NYPL at Fifth Ave and W. 42nd (not the Deuce).  My division is US History, Local History, and Genealogy - we get all the NYC history questions.  At NYPL the resources available in researching each month's DEUCE spiel far surpass the amount of tips bagged at the height of tourist season by the Naked Cowboy.

Chiseler: When I was 15 or 16 years old, a suburban Jersey kid, I would occasionally take the bus to Port Authority with $20 in my pocket. It was a magical place in the 70s and 80s. Can you tell us something about the porn scene in those days, maybe its larger history, and how it relates to the evolution of your Nighthawk Cinema?

McCarthy: I’m generalizing, but the porn business in Times Square seems a combination of obscenity laws and the real estate market (versus the city and state imposing change).  Obscenity laws had increasingly loosened since the 1960s and by the 1980s so many cases ruled in favor of pornography that the pursuit of smut peddlers evaporated like dots of old money shots on a mattress at the Elk Hotel. Sure Edwin Meese led a commission against porn in Reagan's Morning in America as a coalition of the religious right against the entire ethos of the 1970s, but it doesn't seem to have achieved anything other than beleaguering feminist activists who opposed the rampant exploitation of women in pornography only to find a black hole of political alignment with right wing morality police. Live sex shows and bestiality periodicals were then the product of free speech.  Meanwhile, big business had no interest in occupying or redeveloping the commercial spaces in Times Square.  But landlords held on to the old buildings and theaters — occupied by movie theaters, sex shops, etc. - waiting for a future time when the demand for Times Square real estate upped the value and they might cash in.  The neighborhood became a sex district mostly because these were the only businesses that would pay rent in the area — which most New Yorkers supposedly avoided. And it was the 1970s — the white middle-class had fled, it was a party town, the city was broke, its own redevelopment efforts continually failing on the Deuce, where the racial patron and hangout demographic was majority Black, and drugs and prostitution were viable business. But the theaters on the Deuce mostly didn't play porn.  The Victory (today the "New Victory") played triple-X and the Harem was a 24 hour porn box — but you had more opportunity to see First Blood or What's Up Doc? in the 8 or 9 other theaters on W. 42nd between 7th and 8th Avenue. XXX theaters were elsewhere in Times Square than the Deuce. Whether it was magical depends on one's experience of it at the time.  Times Square has always been a fantasy factory and the DEUCE movie series we do exalts going to the movies, and even when the experience back then was rough, most reminiscences of people seeing movies on 42nd Street is a memory of great impact.  We do not celebrate that it was so bad it was good (the same way we do not program movies that are "so bad they are good" — that crap is for bored minds who are less able to form an independent thought than the digital diode Coca-Cola sign at 47th and Broadway) — but it is a combination of place and experience in a matrix of moviegoing: there are many stories to tell about each theater, and the movies we program may take on new life in the forgetting chambers of Nitehawk Cinema. If porn ended up characterizing the business of Times Square when obscenity laws and real estate allowed it to, then no surprise — such is history…

Chiseler: I’m with you on “so bad it’s good” — a goddamn disease. I spend years of my life hunting down non-canonical titles, not with the tacky idea of establishing an alternative canon, but with the goal of subverting the very notion of canons. In other words, I’m seeking great films that establish their own criterion for greatness, compelling viewers to recognize them on their own ground. To expand your last answer a bit, would you mind dwelling on a few titles you’ve screened and tell our readers why you selected them?

McCarthy: OK — the DEUCE is a group effort. First off we are thankful for Nitehawk Cinema to have hosted the series for so long. I only do the intro monologue / slideshow on the history of a theater, while my co-jockeys — seasoned film programmers Joe Berger, Max Cavanaugh, and Jeff Cashvan — program the screenings, which are always a 35mm print, sprocketed by boothmaster Pro-Jo Joe Muto.  The 35mm signature touch seems to be one of the ongoing draws for the audience, who routinely sell out the 90 seat theater, ahem...  Cashvan puts together a list and Max tracks down a print (if one exists).  The selections hinge on whether the movie once played in a theater on the Deuce, and the availability of a 35mm print — the experience of history in the screening zeroes down to the technology too.  The movies are chosen because they have creative merit and yield enough for the viewer to determine if they are good or bad — or anything in between, which is much more interesting. Also we gotta honor the faith of the ticket-buyers and uphold any rep of the series, and not hash up some dumb time-wasting crap.  Some of the flicks might be obscure, like Night of the Juggler (a gritty 1980 NYC exegesis on the type of race and class tensions too familiar under the U.S. presidency of the hurrahed bastard) or Teen Lust (bizarre sex romp directed by that-guy character actor James Hong) or Combat Shock (Vietnam vet psychodrama shot in Staten Island, including the Nam scenes), and other flicks are not obscure, like A View to a Kill or Tommy or Luna or Runaway Train...  The crowds continually seem to enjoy a genuine going-to-the-movies experience; there is never any of that ironic insecure brainless hipster douchebag laughter that you get at some of these retro screenings that sizzles my nerves like hamburgers and franks on the grill at Grand Luncheonette at 229 W. 42nd Street next to the old Selwyn Theater — both places long gone.  I saw Lost Weekend at BAM one time and was surrounded by people laughing at Ray Milland suffering from delirium tremens. What kind of loser pays $15 to act like that at a movie?  Anyhow - those types don't come to these screenings.  Some people come no matter what is playing, others for nostalgia or a particular love for a movie, others for whatever.  No one is coming to experience the reenactment of a W. 42nd Street theater in 1982, which is not the intention — if it was we would just play grade-Z spaghetti westerns or Porky's sequels and allow smoking in the theater.

Chiseler: I realize that COVID puts a fairly long-term kaibosh on movie theaters. Where, if anywhere, do your hopes lie for continuing your work? Night of the Juggler ranks among my favorite films, by the way.

McCarthy: I am working on a book that corrals all the research I've done for the last 8 years.  As far as reopening movie theaters, I have no clue. That is up to Nitehawk etc. The series is a theatrical communal thing. We haven't all been in touch about carrying things through the quarantine because there is no virtual alternative. As for Juggler it's too bad the movie is super unfindable. But how and where we obtained a one-time-only print will remain as undisclosed as a Gambino wiseguy taking the fifth.

[kinglyhood]

Heaven

by Kinglyhood

Mood Board by @frickyouralmonds

Requested?: YES 

Description: Based on “Heaven” by Julia Michaels (You should listen as you read) from the 50 Shades Freed soundtrack. Requested by @calhood5sos; Bad boy!Calum takes away all the stress of your recent breakup.

Warning: Contains smut, 18+ only please.

Word Count: 2,616

listen here 

It’s automatic

It’s just what they do

They say “all good boys go to heaven”

But bad boys bring heaven to you

It was New Years Eve 2017, I’d been drug to this huge house party in LA. I hadn’t thought much of it when my friend invited me to tag along to his friend Ashton’s house party. Little did I know I’d be thrust into a world of searing passion, and freedom I’d never experienced before.

It was my first New Years being single in several years, you see I was fresh off a breakup. I’d been seeing it coming for awhile so I’d comes to terms with it ending, but the loneliness was palpable. I figured going out on NYE and actually having fun for once would do me some good. So, I went out and bought an amazing outfit, simple, but it did it’s job. Little black dresses never went out of style, paired with the one pair of Louboutin’s I owned (thanks to Beverly Hill’s thrift shops) and my signature red lip, I was ready to turn some heads.

I’d known Michael for awhile, we met through his girlfriend, but I had never met his band mates because my ex was incredibly jealous and more or less didn’t allow me to have male friends, especially if they were single. Of course I knew who they were, I didn’t live under a rock, I actually kinda liked their music, so I was looking forward to finally meeting them. Michael and Crystal picked me up on their way to the party, as I walked down the pathway from my town house to their car, Crystal rolled down the window and wolf whistled at me, “Oooo girl, you got a man?” 

I busted out laughing, “No ma’am I am single, and ready to mingle!” I threw my hands up and shook my hips for effect.

“You two are absolutely ridiculous,” Michael chuckled from the driver’s seat, “Now get in we’re already late!”

We pulled up to Ashton’s place around 11:30 PM, it was a duplex, and the party seemed to be spilling over into the other unit as well. As we walked up, Michael informed me that Ashton shared the duplex with their bassist Calum. People littered the driveway and front lawn, beer pong tables and chairs scattered about. We walked inside and were almost immediately greeted by a very inebriated Ashton, “HEY GUYSSS!” He threw his arms around Crystal and Michael’s necks, squeezing them into him, causing them to make pained faces, “Who’s your friend?” He gestured to me.

I held out my hand for him to shake, “Y/N.”

He let go of our friends, grabbed my hand and said, “We don’t shake hands around here babe, come here,” and he pulled me into a hug, “I’m Ashton, but you can call me, Ash,” he finished with a wink. 

It was at this exact moment I felt someone’s eyes boring into my back, I peeked over my shoulder to see if I could find the culprit responsible for the goosebumps now covering my skin, and my gaze was met by the most intense brown eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. I recognized him immediately, it was Calum, the bassist, and holy shit did he look incredibly hot dressed in all black. Leather jacket, black skinny jeans, black t-shirt, a beanie and black boots. He had the complete “bad boy” vibe going for him and I was INSTANTLY attracted. 

He held my stare for what felt like ages before taking the last swig of the beer in his hand, setting it down and walking towards me and our group of mutual friends. My heart skipped a beat as he walked up to me, hand brushing mine as he settled next to me. 

I still remember the moment we met

The touch that he planted

The garden he left

He lifted my hand to his lips and placed a kiss to the back of it, I bit my lip in response, “Well hello gorgeous, I apologize for Michael’s rudeness for not introducing us sooner,” he quickly shot Michael a cocky smirk, Michael held up is hands in mock defense, as if to say, “my bad man.” 

 “I’m Calum,” he looked at me expectantly, still holding my hand.

“Y/n,” I said with as much sex appeal as I could muster. 

“Hey man, I saw her first!” Ashton said with a giggle.

Michael clapped his hands onto Ashton’s shoulders, “Come on man,” and led him away.

“You two have fun,” Crystal said suggestively with a sly smile. Ashton could be heard whining to Michael, “But she was so pretty.”

“Dude, trust me Cal has you beat here just give up,” Michael said to a disappointed Ashton. 

Calum and I both laughed awkwardly at the exchange we’d both just overheard. He was still holding my hand. 

“Can I get you a drink?” 

“Please,” I said with a laugh, as he led me into the kitchen where all the alcohol was stashed. 

“Pick your poison!” He said gesturing widely to the array of liquor bottles and mixers. I dug through the treasure trove until I found what I wanted, Jack Daniels and coke, I picked up the bottles and handed them to him, “Whiskey girl, huh? Mmm, yep. I like you already.” He smiled widely, his beautifully full lips framing his perfect teeth, I already found myself wanting to kiss them. He must have noticed me staring at his lips because he smirked as he passed me my drink.

“I think we should take a shot real quick, to celebrate,” he said as he poured us each a shot of whiskey.

“And what exactly are we celebrating?”

“Well New Years for one,” he raised an eyebrow to me, “And to new friends,” this time he shot me a wink.

“To new friends,” I held up my shot glass for him to cheers with me, he entangled our arms, clinked our glasses, and we took our shots. As we set down our shots glasses our bodies moved closer together so my chest was just barely pressed against his. I looked up to see him staring at my lips, I leaned into him further, his full lips were so inviting. The fact that I was a lightweight meant the one shot of whiskey was already coursing through my veins, liquid courage as they say, and I found myself kissing him. 

His hands quickly attached to my body, one on my hip slowly kneading into my ass, the other on my waist, both holding me to him tightly. 

“Well that sure was fast,” we broke apart to see Michael leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, smirking at us. 

“Fuck off, Michael,” Calum laughed as he took my hand and led me out to the backyard.

The backyard was surprisingly deserted, everyone had made their way inside to watch the ball drop and scream “Happy New Year!” with their friends as they kissed their significant others, or strangers.

“Hey everybody, it’s 5 minutes til midnight!” Ashton screamed, as he ironically began to blare the song “5 Minutes to Midnight” by Boys Like Girls.

As the song played, Calum and I sipped our drinks and shared a cigarette, the nicotine and the alcohol making my head swim. We were sat next to each other on a bench in a dimly lit corner, my legs crossed towards him, my ankle brushing slowly and repetitively against his. He took the last drag of our shared cigarette, flicked it aside and ran his hand up my thigh, just under the hem of my dress, caressing the naked flesh beneath. 

Everyone inside began counting down, “10, 9,” Calum pulled me closer to him, my legs now laid crossed his lap, “8, 7,” his left arm circled around my waist, “6, 5″ his right hand slowly worked it’s way up my thigh to my waist, to just below my breast, his thumb rubbing teasingly against my clothed nipple, “4, 3″ his large hand gripped my rib cage and pulled me even closer to him, “2, 1″ our lips collided, intensely. Shouts of “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” began to ring through the air. His tongue flicked at my bottom lip, asking permission to deepen the kiss, I obliged him and his tongue met mine in a passionate dance for dominance. The kiss grew very heated, his hands now kneading my breasts, I could feel his hard on begin to press into me through his tight jeans. 

He broke away first, seeing the flustered look on my face he laughed, “I think most everyone is here now that the ball’s dropped, my place is probably deserted,” He gently pushed me from his lap, standing and offering me his hand, “shall we?”

I took his hand and went to stand but before I could completely get up his left arm was around me, lifting me into his arms, and carrying me away as I shrieked in amusement, hitting him playfully on the chest. 

All wrapped in one he was so many sins

Would have done anything, everything for him

And if you ask me, I would do it again

He was right, his place was deserted. As soon as he was sure we were alone, he had me pressed against a wall, hands on the back of my thighs, motioning for me to jump so he could wrap my legs around his waist. His hard on was immediately pressed against my center, the skirt of my dress pushed up around my hips. 

“You are so fucking sexy,” he said seductively against my neck, the warmth of his breathe sending shivers down my spine, “I knew as soon as I saw you I had to have you.” His lips attached to the spot just below my ear, I let out a rattled moan, “Mmmm, I’m going to love hearing that sound.”

He gripped my ass, removing us from against the wall, leaning back slightly to support my weight and not break the contact between our bodies. He carried me down the hall and into his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him. He forcefully laid me down on the bed, positioning himself between my legs as he did, reached up over his head and removed his shirt to reveal gorgeous brown skin, littered with tattoos. I let my hands wander over his torso, beckoning him to press his body against mine once again. He quickly undid his belt and pants and pushed them down along with his boxers. His marvelous erection now on full display, and boy was it impressive. 

He quickly grabbed his dick and positioned it against my still clothed slit, rubbing it teasingly up and down, “So wet for me already,” he purred as he felt how soaked I was, “this is going to be fun.” He stood and gestured for me to do the same, I followed suit. He motioned for me to turn around, as I did he began to unzip my dress, he pulled all my hair to one side of my neck gently, placing kisses down my neck and back as he released me from the confines of my dress. As he slipped the dress down over my ass, he knelt, kissing and nipping lightly at my backside, moving his right hand up to push lightly on my lower back, positioning me to be bent over the bed as he worked his way to my core, slowly pulling my panties down as he went.

My breath hitched in my throat as his tongue ran along my slit, reminding me that I hadn’t felt pleasure like this in a long time, maybe not ever. How could someone I’d only just met an hour ago have this affect on me? My thoughts were interrupted by his tongue entering me. A rather load moan escaped my lips as I clawed at the sheets. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he said as he removed his tongue from me, replacing it with his fingers as he once again placed wet kisses up my ass onto my back, goosebumps appearing as he blew his warm breath against the wet spots he left behind. God he really knew how to work me somehow.  “You want me to fuck you now, baby?” 

He curled his fingers inside of me, “Oh my god, yes,” I moaned, breathlessly. 

He quickly removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty, as he reached over into his bedside table, pulled out a condom and slipped it on very skillfully. He lifted me by my hips so my ass was on full display up in the air, and positioned himself at my entrance, teasing me with his head. 

“Calum, please,” I moaned again.

“You got it, baby,” he slowly slid himself into me, giving me time to adjust to his rather impressive size, “Anything to make you say my name like that again.”

He began to rock slowly back and forth, building intensity teasingly slow, “Fuck, Cal,” I panted, his right hand was on my shoulder, using it as leverage to slam into me, he brought it around to my throat, applying light pressure and he lifted me up so my back was against his torso. He applied more pressure to my throat as he roughly slammed into me, releasing strangled moans from my throat. 

“Cal, I’m gonna-” he stopped abruptly, pulling out of me, and turning me around.

“Uh uh, princess, I want to see your face when I make you cum.”

He laid me back down on the bed, pulling me by my hips to the edge so my legs hung off, wrapping them around his waist as he once again pushed his way inside of me. He licked his thumb, and brought it down to circle around my clit, the combination of his incredible girth and his skillful working of my clit, quickly sent me over the edge. Back arching, toes curling, and what I can guarantee was the loudest I’d ever been, I came undone beneath him, practically screaming his name as he brought me to my high. 

As I began to feel my second orgasm building, I could tell he was close, he held my hips down so he could pound into me more forcefully. I clenched around him as my second orgasm hit, more intense than the last, I felt him twitch inside of me as we both screamed out in ecstasy. 

He slumped forward on top of me, panting heavily, his lips hovering over mine, I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. He leaned down and kissed me passionately, one hand coming up to cup my face. We laid like that for awhile, reveling in what we’d just done. 

I’m not a sinner, he wasn’t the one

Had no idea what we would become

There’s no regrets I just thought it was fun 

That night was the beginning of an incredibly passionate affair. It only lasted a few months before Calum had to leave for a world tour. We hadn’t ever talked about becoming serious, but we had fun and enjoyed each other’s company. We still see each other whenever he’s in town, often reminiscing on the night we met. I don’t think I’d ever had so much fun getting over a breakup. Thank God for New Years, and new “friends.” ;)

No need to imagine

‘Cause I know it’s true

They say “all good boys go to heaven”

But bad boys bring heaven to you

It’s automatic

It’s just what they do

They say “all good boys go to heaven”

But bad boys bring heaven to you

** Well there you have it! My first venture into smut... I hope it isn’t horrible lol let me know what you think, shoot me an Ask! Like/reblog if you enjoy!**

[maureenlaurie]

Iron Emmett called forth his charges, and as the rest of the company watched from a respectful distance, they knelt before the weirwoods.

Iron Emmett called forth his charges, and as the rest of the company watched from a respectful distance, they knelt before the weirwoods. Proud Volantis, queen of the Rhoyne and mistress of the Summer Sea, home to noble lords and lovely bottines cloutees femme ladies of the most ancient blood. The money made depends on the events held during a year. And if the fat man’s hanging round, you may be sure it’s that. All her guards have been dismissed and replaced with my own men. And was an avid New York Yankees fan. Carol M. 3 North first round (lost to Wayland, 4 2)ABOUT THE MIDDIES: DuRoss, who played for the legendary Bill Hanson at Catholic Memorial and later starred at Fitchburg State, takes his first coaching job following the retirement of Mike Marshall. I’d tell him I could fly, but he wouldn’t believe, so adidas eqt rose gold I’d have to show him. Black children are not put to work so young as many children of poor parents in the North. 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He was suspended for one game after what was deemed a knee to knee hit against a Kazakhstan player in the preliminary round and ejected from the Americans' final game against Czech Republic for another illegal hit to the head of Vladimir Sobotka. 240. Cpl. Outlook: The Panthers have six returning starters on the offensive side of the ball, to go with seven on defense for the season. I chose not to rent a car this time, as the roads are brutal to drive on with potholes large enough to swallow your car.. Such a law would affect but slightly evro kalkulator the general value or availability of slave property, and would prevent in some cases the violence done to the feelings of such connections by sales either compulsory or voluntary. Only the cold …. “Well, perhaps it wasn’t Pfefferkuchen. But then, the most fiendish always leave a few alive to tell the tale.. Unless I returned with the king by dawn of the following day, he would take the town with steel and fire, he told me. A win win.. June Harris and the victim, Amy Nash have identical photos. My seven and nine year old read two works of fiction on the topic the diary of a girl who disguises herself as a boy to join the overlanders on their trek from Fort Garry (Winnipeg) to the Cariboo goldfields, and a mystery set in present day Barkerville.. Just last month, the UCLA Center zattini promoção de botas for Labor Research and Education celebrated its 35th anniversary with a teach in at Dickson Hall, featuring such prominent speakers as Speaker of the State Assembly Antonio Villaraigosa, D Los Angeles, United Farm Workers founder Dolores Huerta and AFL CIO President John Sweeney.The man responsible for the planning of the prestigious event, which kicked off the opening of the AFL CIO's national convention, was Kent Wong, director of UCLA's labor center."The five speakers who appeared were all on our wish list," said Wong, who also succeeded in scheduling the Rev. Before they reached the castle, twenty pairs of eyes were watching them from the gatehouse ramparts. “They complained about Lord Commander Mormont too. Let us be friends, and . Once, he said, so bitterly it made her shudder. She had done all they desired.. Also acknowledged that it had dozens of special operations forces working on the ground in Libya. Like a child pulling petals off a daisy, thought Jon. I, for instance, have long since freed myself from all shackles, and even obligations. That whilst the deceased was so tied to the tree, the prisoner did strike, knock, kick, stamp and beat him upon various parts of his head, face and body; that he applied fire to his body; * * * * that he then washed his body with warm water, in which pods of red pepper had been put and steeped; and he compelled his two slaves aforesaid also to wash him with this same preparation of warm water and red pepper.

[poquizbee09-blog]

                                                   Whiplash

                                               The Movie Summary

The film starts with a beat of drums played by Andrew Neiman, the main hero of the movie, who is an aspiring drummer to give greatness and retain passion. Andre trains himself with his drumming styles and suddenly stops when he sees a band conductor, Terence Fletcher appearing himself in to the room and surprisingly asks George of his personal information. When he stops playing Terence asks him why he stopped. And when Andrew starts playing again, he is asked why he started again when he is not asked to do so. While Andrew plays, Terence leaves and closes the door but he comes back to retrieve his forgotten jacket.  The next day, Andrew enters one music class and there he meets Ryan Connelly. Then, the professor came in and the band performs a piece. Andrew curiously sees a man in silhouette looking through the glass door. After class, he peeked in to one room and there he sees band training and also sees Fletcher and gets surprise when Terence looks at him. Later, back at the studio, while Andrew is playing as a core drummer, Fletcher breaks inside the studio and starts evaluating every bassist and cellist and all, and finally, the drummers. After, Terence asks Andrew to come at his room tomorrow at 6. Then Andrew meets Nicole, a girl working in the cinema, and asks her to go out with him. The next day, Andrew thinks he is late and leaves for class. Struggling and running, he enters an empty room. He waited for hours and the band members enter the room for the practice. And at exactly 9 am, Fletcher enters and conducts and seems everyone is horrified of him. The band plays a piece and Fletcher observes that there is one instrument ha is played out-of-tune. He yelled at the musician to go out of the room and continues practicing. And again continues the practice with the song entitled “Whiplash”. Andrew plays the core drummer in a piece and unfortunately he plays out of tempo. Until Fletcher lost his temper, he throws a chair at Andrew, fortunately he dodged it. Terence slaps Andrew at every 4 of 12 counts and brags him about his personal matters, slaps him again and yells about his broken family and tells him to shout that he is upset, louder in front of the band mates. Andrew fees nothing but embarrassment. Andrew keeps practicing until blood comes out of his fingers and still beats he drums despite of all his pain. In a music competition, a core drummer, Tanner, gives his music sheets to Andrew. He puts the music sheets on a bench to buy a can of coke in an automated vending machine. Tanner arrives, asking for his music sheets and mysteriously disappears. Tanner can’t play the drums. So, Andrew becomes the core drummer onstage for he believes he knows the beat of “Whiplash” by heart. The next day, the practice begins and Andrew wins Tanner’s spot; he is now the new core drummer. He next song to practice is entitled “ caravan” and there is a par ha needs a fast speed for the drums part. Andrew screwed up and then me meets Ryan Connelly, a drummer from other class. Fletcher evaluates Andrews skill on the he doesn’t get the beats well and as for Conelly, he played well. And so, Fletcher gives the spot for Conelly as the core drummer but Andrew disagrees for he believes that he did the hardest to earn that spot. Andrew breaks up with Nicole, explaining that his ambition would be just a hindrance to their relationship. At home, he practices every piece they practice at school and prepares a pitcher of water with ice in case he bleeds. Without further depression due to the required tempo not being reached, he punches slams the drums and we could see he dips his hand covered with blood into the pitcher.  At the studio, Fletcher reveals about the death of one of his students due to car accident. And as they start practicing, Andrew and other candidates for the core drummer show Fletcher their skills for the required tempo for the piece but failed. And when it is Andrew’s turn, Fletcher observes carefully and he sees the failure of  Andrew, he throws a drum away and yells at Andrew to speed up the tempo until his fingers reveal blood. Then Fletcher announces that Andrew earns the part. Another music competition came. Andrew rents a car to be able to come at the venue, and as he arrives he then forgot to bring with him his drumsticks, and so, he goes back to the car rental to retrieve his drumsticks. And as he drives, a truck crashes on his car. He then goes out of the car while gripping his drumsticks, and then he runs to the venue and enters the stage covered with blood all over his face. The band performs and suddenly his drumsticks fell. Fletcher says that he is done. Andre attacks Fletcher in front of the audience. Andrew is expelled from his school and the lawyer of the student involved in a car accident explained to Andrew that he actually hung himself due to depression and that he is in Fletcher’s class. Andrew agreed to testify against Fletcher. Later, Andrew goes in to a bar and sees Fletcher playing a piano harmoniously. Fletcher finishes his piece and as he exits the stage, he sees Andrew. He talks to Andrew about stuffs and gradually invites him to play for his band. Andrew thinks it would be fine and so he agrees. On stage, Fletcher tells Andrew that he knows that he testified against him. And so, Andrew, shocked seeing the band mates holding a music sheet of a piece he doesn’t know. As a result, he messes up the performance. Fletcher insults Andrew and Andrew, being confident of what he is capable of, shows off the required tempo of the drums and the band mates join him.  Fletcher is mad at first but when he witnesses the solo part of Andrew, he finally nods, signature of accepting Andrew who is achieving greatness. With that nod, the film closes.

                                              The Movie Review

“Struggles are real, bear and deal with it otherwise you will gain nothing.”

With the cinematic adrenaline type of film that is giving me strong chills inside and out of my perspective that I could barely watch how the main character suffers before reaching his dream; to become an acknowledged drummer. Cheers for the worth and him being able to do everything he is capable; whether it is struggling, suffering, or and so.

From the day everybody was born, each already has the dream that is inside of us, though we aren’t aware about it, it is there.

 Say it for instance, a child takes her/his first steps by first thumping and falling on the ground then cries. These are the boundaries to the child being able to walk. Generally, in life, one must struggle and get hurt first for it may become a lesson to everyone to strive better and get our acts together and do whatever it takes for our dreams.

With the film’s shocking twists and turns each and every scene, one folder made the whole dream and effort go upside down and dragged everyone down.

Pity is he who lost the part in the show which was given to other person. With that scene, I believe that to get a grip of your dream is to get a grip of yourself through its hindrances.

Personally I don’t have a character that caught me much interest in but I probably choose Charlie as my favorite character in the movie. It is because he is very well fit to his role as the antagonist. Commonly, antagonists are known as the badass roles in every film, novel, etc, but in the end of the film, he finally notices and acknowledged the protagonist’s potential as an aspiring drummer. With his deep voice and intimidating look, he made his overall appearance deserves a huge thumbs up.

Being scolded in front of so many people can makes you think you wanna get swallowed by the ground. It might be the scariest horror story of life you could ever have. Remembering the time I felt embarrassed due to mistakes I have done unnoticeable. So apparently, everything went smooth until I was called by my name (mic’s on; heard by the entire student body) telling me well scolding me for what I did wrong. As I junior high schooler back then, I cried due to depression and thought I should be more careful to avoid mistakes. Never let anyone drag you down because the only person who could help you follow your dreams is you, yourself.

I won’t ask any question to this character but I would just want to congratulate him because he made me mad from the first time I saw him till the end of the film. Mr. Fletcher,you really made me want to kick your ass not to mention I really like your eyes. Congrats!

Well then that is how I view the movie entitled “Whiplash”.  At first, I honestly thought this is related to a beach or sea type of film which everyone wants to get drown whenever they want to but unfortunately what I predicted didn’t click. But still I liked the movie. Two words for this movie and the characters, Right Decisions. Wanna see blood onstage? Watch Whiplash, it’s insane.

[selfish-ff]

02: FEAR

Arielle

I looked at my ass in my body length mirror. I smiled and placed my hands on my knees before popping the cheeks. I laughed at myself and twirled in the mirror to take in the romper I was wearing. It was my favorite thing to wear during the fall, spring, and summer. Not only did it have my ass jumping, but the titties were popping too.

You could consider me slim thick, a coke bottle figure to die for. I had ass and titties, but my tummy was tight thanks to my daily morning workouts.  I had an addiction to tattoos after getting my first, so I was covered in them. Many may say I was full of myself, but I just knew I was a dime. No one could tell me differently.

“…and all my bitches with the shits!” blared through-out my bedroom. I looked back at my phone to see that my best friend was calling.

“What’s up, Kay?” I answered, combing my fingers through my hair.

“You ready girl? I’m heading over there now.”

“Yeah, just honk when you’re outside.”

She agreed before we both hung up. I made my way into my walk-in closet. I slipped into my Michael Kors sandals, and grabbed the matching purse, both gifts from June. I bit down on my bottom lip just from the thought of him. He had a lock on my heart with his initials on it.

Sometimes I swore I had more love for June than I had for myself. It wasn’t just an attraction when it came to June, it was so much more. He had been with me through so much, and we have built a bond that would make it hard for me to ever let go.

June was almost perfect in my eyes, the only problem I had with him was his commitment issues. I could tell that he had love for me and may even be in love with me. But, he still has had the urge to fuck around on me through the years we’ve been together. I was fully aware of the lifestyle that he lived by but that shouldn’t excuse him from being faithful to me. He wouldn’t even agree that we should live together, and I know it’s cause he’s fucking around on me still. He claims he hasn’t but I find it hard to believe because of the past. One thing I was sure I knew about June was that he wasn’t a liar so I should trust in him.

Kayla honking outside snapped me out of my thoughts. I grabbed my keys off my night stand before rushing out my front door. I locked it behind me and headed over to my girl’s Lexus that Dontae had bought her. Dontae was more like Kayla’s sponsor than a boyfriend. They didn’t really do relationship type shit, like dates and staying the night at each other’s places. Dontae would just drop some cash on my girl and they would fuck. I knew it killed Kayla inside because she really wanted to be with Dontae exclusively.

“I’m gonna kill this nigga, Ari.” Kayla greeted soon after I got comfortable in the passenger seat.

“What did he do now?” I chuckled, and she sent a glare my way.

“I think he’s fucking with Kenya!” She whined, and my eyes bulged.

“Our boss?!” She nodded. I let out a harsh breath while pinching the bridge of my nose. “What happened for you to think this is going on?”

“Trixie sent me a picture of her leaving his place.”

I wanted to laugh at how neighbors could never mind their damn business. But, I was in utter shock that my best friend and boss were sharing the same nigga.

“Maybe, it’s not that…Maybe she hooked him up with an in-home tattoo or something. Have you talked to him since you found out?” She shook her head, and I noticed her eyes began to water.

“I don’t understand why this nigga keeps treating me this way. I haven’t done anything but ride for this nigga and love him. I wish Dontae was like June. Ya’ll are relationship goals.” She cried.

I kissed my teeth and rolled my eyes at her seeing my relationship as an example.

“June is not a saint, he used to and maybe still is messing around on me…” Kayla looked over at me with a ‘you know damn well he’s not fucking around’ look. I wish I was confident enough to say that I didn’t think he was.

“Well if you don’t appreciate him, pass him over this way.” Kayla joked. I shoved her making the car swerve a little.

“Only in your dreams, that’s my baby.” I cheesed. We pulled up to tattoo shop and I knew Kayla’s mood had gone back downhill by the look on her face. “Are you gonna be okay, Kay?”

She nodded, we both stepped out of her car. After walking around the car, I brought her to my side hugging her close. She wiped her eyes and smiled. My best friend was strong and I knew it would only take some time for her to realize her self-worth.

Just as we were about to step up to the tattoo shop the door swung open, and out came Dontae. He smiled at me showing off his gold bottoms. Then looked over at red faced crying Kayla, he frowned and walked up to her.

“What’s wrong with you?” She shook her head side to side instead of speaking up on how she felt.

“You need to talk to him Kayla…” I whispered to her, and she huffed out of annoyance.

“Can you tell Kenya and Libya I’ll be in there in 15?” I nodded, and went into the shop giving them their privacy.

“Good Morning, Ari.” Mali, the new receptionist greeted me. I smiled and walked up to the reception desk. She was a cute little something, and looked just like the both of her sisters. I had only known her for about a week and she was already my favorite out of the sisters. She was a sweetheart, and I found myself easily conversing with her every morning.

“I saw that photo you posted. I was weak as hell. You need to get a new roommate!” she nodded in agreement.

“Ten steps ahead of you girl, I already applied to switch rooms. I have never lived in such a pigsty before in my life. Feeling like I need to be walking around here oinking.” We both laughed.

“What are you doing for lunch?” I grabbed a mint out of the candy bowl.

“I’m actually meeting with someone for lunch, but we can do lunch tomorrow?” I stuck my thumb up and winked at her.

“Sounds like a date. Has my client arrived yet?”

“Yes boo. Come up here and talk to me whenever you’re free it’s get boring just sitting here.” She pouted like an infant, it didn’t help that the girl already had a baby face.

“Girl, you know I got you…” We shared our signature handshake before I headed back to get to work.

Mali

I promised my sister that I would pick up my niece and bring her back to the shop. So, here I was parked outside of my niece’s baby sitter’s house. I grabbed my phone out the cup holder, and hopped out of my fixed car.

“Damn baby, how you doin’ today?” I glanced back at the group of boys hanging out on the porch across the street. I waved and smiled.

I knocked on Ms. Keisha’s door, and looked around at the neighborhood to see everyone on the block outside enjoying the nice weather.  

“You always coming around here with them little booty shorts on, come on in baby.” Ms. Keisha opened her door wide enough so I could walk in.

“Good afternoon to you too, Ms. Keisha.” I chuckled, she shooed me off.

We walked further into her house, pass the living room and into the kitchen. I showed off a toothy grin when I saw my niece, and she did the same when she saw me. She hopped out her chair with crumbs falling off her dress. She ran right into my open arms. I picked her up, kissing all over her smooth caramel face.

“Auntie missed her baby so much…” I squealed, hugging her tight to my body.

“Missed you!” She kissed me on the cheek, and hooked her arms around my neck. “Where’s mommy?” She frowned, with a pout.

“You’re gonna have lunch with auntie, then we’re gonna see mommy, okay?” She nodded excitedly. “Thank you, Ms. Keisha. Libya said next time she drops Lei off she’ll pass you the check.”

Ms. Keisha nodded, and rushed us out before the other kids started crying for their family. I hiked Leilani on my side as I scurried to my car. I opened the back door and buckled Leilani into her booster seat.

“Ayo, Mali!”

I stood up alarmed. I didn’t know that many people out here, and not many people knew me out here. I also knew not many people out here had the same name as me.  

The person that the deep-toned voice belonged to jogged across the street over to me. Butterflies began to flutter in my tummy. I quickly patted down my hair and smoothed out my clothes, making sure nothing looked out of place.

June smiled seductively as he took in every inch of me. He bit down on his bottom lip and shook his head.

“You out here tryna get these niggas attention, shorty?” He teased.

I shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. Once again, I was nervous and shy around this man, he probably was thinking I was a fucking mute. I chuckled at my thoughts, causing him to show off his dimpled smile.  

“That was cute. Why you never talking to a nigga? I scare you or some shit?”

Not only did this man scare me, but he also made me leak like a faucet. He was so fine and so damn assertive that it turned me on.

“No, I’m just tired.” I lied. He laughed, knowing damn well I wasn’t telling the truth.

“What you out here doing?” He furrowed his eyebrows. He looked around at all the niggas on the block while stroking his beard before looking back down at me.

I stepped to the side so he could see my baby niece in the backseat playing with the iPod Touch my sister bought her young ass.  I shut the back door, and opened the driver’s door.

“Ms. Keisha…” he said to himself. “So, shorty gotta little shorty. Where’s baby girl’s daddy?”

“Her dad’s dead, and this isn’t my daughter. This is my niece.”

He stuffed his hands in his denim jean pockets.

“What you out here doing?” I mocked. He threw his head back and laughed.

“I’m just out here handling business, always. But check this, let me get your number just in case you have problems with your car again.” He licked his juicy ass lips, and smirked. This was one sneaky mutherfucker.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m just trying to focus on school. I’m not trying to date, fuck, or chill.” June nodded, and poked his whole ass head in the car.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He spoke to Leilani. Leilani gleamed, and waved. “You think your auntie should give me a chance?”

Leilani switched up to the other team and started nodding. I rolled my eyes, and looked back up at June. He had this knowing smirk on his face.

“TiTi, he so cute!” Leilani chuckled. I was through with her trading ass.

“Okay, I’ll give you my number but don’t think that means I’m interested in whatever it is your trying to pursue. I just like making my niece happy.” I shut my door, and rolled down my window. I read my number out to him, and rolled my window back up without waiting for a response. He tapped the hood of my car, and blew me a kiss. I shot him a head nod, then drove off to meet up with Mama Betsy for lunch.

**

Leilani and I walked into Red Lobster hand in hand. She was cheesing hard because this was her favorite restaurant.

“Good Afternoon, how many do we have today?” The hostess greeted.

“Actually, we’re here with Ms. Betsy.” She nodded, and then led the way to where Mama Betsy was sitting.

When mama Betsy watched me and Leilani walk up to the table her face brightened. She hugged me and then picked up Leilani, holding her tight.

“I didn’t know you were bringing a little treat with you, Mali.” Mama Betsy smiled, referring to Leilani.

“Yeah, I’m heading back to my sisters’ tattoo shop after we leave here to take her to her mom.” I responded, slipping into the booth across from Mama. She sat back in her booth with Leilani in her lap like she was a baby.

I bet my niece was loving all this attention. She knew damn well she wasn’t getting babied like this from her mom nor her aunties.

The waitress came to the table, giving mama her drink and jotting down my drink then Leilani’s. When she walked off Leilani grabbed her crayons and began coloring on the coloring page they gave her.

“So, this precious thang is one of your sisters?” Mama Betsy questioned, and I nodded.

“Yeah, my sister had her back when we lived in Atlanta.”

“How old is she if you don’t mind me asking?”

“She’s about to turn four in a month. Our little baby turning into a big baby.” I pouted, remembering when Leilani was born.

“Time flies, speaking of time how is school?” Leilani squirmed out of Mama Betsy’s lap, and sat beside her. She sucked her bottom lip in and focused on her coloring.

“Everything’s good but my roommate situation.” Mama Betsy laughed.

“I knew that wouldn’t last long honey. I know someone you could room with. The roommate she had already dropped out.” I arched my brow, encouraging her to give more information. “Her name is Dylan, this is her first year too.”

“How do you know her?”

“Her grandmother is my bestie, girl! Back in the day me and her grandma used to pop it on these very streets.” I chuckled, and shook my head at how silly Mama Betsy was.

“I’m actually very interested, I need to move out as soon as possible.” She nodded in agreement.

The waitress came back, dropping off our drinks. She wrote down our orders and asked if we needed anything else. I made sure to remind her to bring out another basket of their hot cheddar biscuits. They were my favorite thing about this restaurant.

“I’ll call her grandmother up tonight to see if her room is still available.”

“How long have you lived in Cleveland?” I asked, while pulling apart a biscuit.

“Oh child, for years. I stopped counting the years a long time ago.”

“You have three grandsons only?” I stuffed the half of the biscuit into my mouth, then took a sip of my water. Mama Betsy tilted her head and smirked.

“No, I actually have four. I have three grandsons from my son, and one grandson from my daughter. You’ve met June…Then there’s Dontae, Jahari, and Chris. They all are knuckleheaded little boys.” She laughed, and shook her head. “I’d do anything for them boys though.” I smiled.

“I actually saw June today…” I felt the need to say.

“Now I love my grandsons, but I want you to be careful baby. They all aren’t the best when it comes to dealing with women. I could tell the first time I met you that you would have a kind and caring soul. By you reaching out to me for lunch and the conversation that we are having I can tell that I was right. This being said, I wouldn’t want anyone to tarnish the glow that you have baby.”

I nibbled on my bottom lip, not knowing what to say in return. I mean I thought June was fine as hell, but I knew he wouldn’t be good for me. I don’t even think I ever had the thought to pursue anything with him. I just saw it as a crush that I wanted to keep to myself.

“I understand, Mama Betsy…”

“Just call me Mama, honey.” She grabbed a hold of my hand, and squeezed it tight. The warmth of her skin made it seem like everything would be alright. “Now, let’s talk about these sisters you have and their shop you said?”

“Yeah, both of my sisters run a tattoo shop downtown. You should come in one day and check it out. I’m the receptionist there until I can find a job in connection to the field I’m studying.” I spoke excitedly. Mama Betsy chuckled, making me frown.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing baby, you’re just so passionate about everything. I adore that about you. I never asked, but what are you studying?” The frown fell, and a smile lifted back on my face.

“Early childhood education, I want to be a kindergarten teacher.” I cheesed just from the thought of having my own classroom and the impact that I’ll place on so many children. I couldn’t wait.

“That’s fitting. You’ll be a great teacher…” Mama gently replied.

Our waitress came over with our meals. We all ate like we hadn’t ate for days. The food was so good. Leilani ended up dropping a lot of alfredo sauce on her jean dress. I went to the bathroom and changed her in a t-shirt and her sweat shorts. After we finished eating Mama promised to get in contact with me about Dylan. We talked little about meeting up again before we went our separate ways. I played Leilani’s favorite Beyoncé album, B’ Day, and headed back to the tattoo shop.

June

“Told yo ass you were about to get caught up in some shit…” I laughed. Dontae glared over at me, before walking off towards the warehouse.

“Stop messing with that nigga before he throws the iron hammer to yo dome.” Jahari goofed. I laughed with that nigga and we both followed behind Dontae.

The lights were off in the warehouse. I frowned, and looked around confusingly. This nigga Chris was supposed to already be here for our meeting. I wanted to get this shit over with, I was tryna hit Ari up on some late-night shit after this.

“Fuck all that shit you niggas are talking about, where the fuck is this nigga Chris?” Dontae barked with his grumpy ass.

“I’ll call that nigga, last time I heard from him he was leaving some class.” Jahari reminded us.

I had completely forgot that our cousin was enrolled into CSU. We had all got our business degrees except for this nigga so we pushed him into getting the shit done. He wanted to build up his own little lounge downtown but with that he needed to learn about the ins and outs of having a business.

“Yo, tell Arielle to stop getting into my shorty’s head, aight?” Dontae spoke, while we waited for Jahari to come back with news about Chris’s whereabouts.

I looked at this nigga Dontae like he had lost his damn mind. He knew damn well I didn’t get involved with all his messy shit, including the advice my girl gives her best friend about them. I didn’t give two fucks about no grown man’s dealings with some females.

“Man, Dontae get the fuck away from me with that stupid shit.” I gritted threw my teeth.

Dontae’s ass decided to step to me, cracking his knuckles and shit like he was about to do some shit. I arched my eyebrows, and clenched my jaw.

“Nigga, you better back the fuck up. I ain’t scared of yo jolly giant ass.”

With that being said, this nigga actually decided to throw one, I dodged that bitch and hit him with a two piece. Dontae groaned, then growled and tackled my ass on the dirty ass ground. We were tussling on the ground until our younger brother and cousin came in, pulling us apart.

“What is wrong with you niggas? Get in the fucking office!” Jahari spoke angrily. Jahari was the funny one out of all of us but when he got mad, he was the worse to deal with.

I huffed while stomping to the office. Even though Dontae was my brother he really had me fucked up. He was really letting these girls get in his head. He needed to chill the fuck out before I got our father involved in this shit.

“Why ya’ll going at it?” Chris coolly questioned. He was the calmest out of all of us.

“This punk nigga mad because both his bitches know about each other. No more pussy for this nigga.” I laughed, and Dontae lunged for me.

“Dontae sit your hotheaded ass down. We don’t have time for them female games tonight. Tonight, is about business, calm the fuck down!” Jahari shoved Dontae back down in his seat. Dontae sent me the meanest glare he could muster before he smoothed out his clothes and cleared his throat.

“So, I checked all the numbers last night, every single business is running smoothly except for our streets.” Chris informed. “Chelsea, the trap over closer to Mama’s was running low this week and I have a feeling it’s that nigga Jordan.”

I sighed deeply, sinking further down in my chair. I knew damn well it was that nigga Jordan, he thought since he sold the most out all our soldiers he should get some kind of raise. This nigga has been caught slipping into our cash more than once. In my opinion it was time to off this nigga. Jahari and Chris swore that if we killed that nigga we would be losing a lot of money. But, we were already losing a lot of money with this nigga dipping his hand into our shit.

“I know this nigga ya’ll favorite, but I’m about to piss in this nigga’s cereal.” I flat out admitted, and they all knew what I meant. I was gonna ruin this nigga life, by ending it.

“I’m with June, ya’ll niggas be letting this nigga slide with every fucking thing.” Dontae agreed.

That was one thing about us. Even though we may argue and fight at the end of the day we were brothers. So, we would always have each other’s backs.

“I actually agree with ya’ll…fool me once, shame on you…fool me twice, shame on me…POW!” Jahari made the gun motion with his hand. I smiled approvingly, this nigga finally agreed with us instead of Chris.

Chris sighed and shrugged.

“I’m with ya’ll on this, surprisingly.”

We talked some more about a plan to off Jordan. We knew the nigga had a sister that was enrolled into CSU. We had no idea where this nigga lived. We never knew when the nigga showed up at the trap to work or nothing. Our best bet was to get our information on his sister and make a little visit. Shorty would easily give us information about her brother cause I guess her grandmother used to run deep with Mama Betsy.

Niggas stay getting way too comfortable.  It was time for us to snap these niggas back into their places.

[nixxofhearts]

This weekend was amazing! Especially since my experience last year wasn’t the best **link 1 and link 2** I’ll talk about everything that happened both days below! 

FRIDAY: 

So on Friday I was already anxious. Last year was such a cluster fuck so I had gotten VIP tickets, but I still had this feeling that something wasn’t going to go well. I felt better after inviting @creativelunatic to dinner at my hotel since she helped me clear my mind by going through the plan for the next weekend. Unlike last year, I had friends going this time! After she left that worry began creeping back and It lead to an anxiety attack. The concern of the unknown scared me so much that all I could do was sit there and try to tell myself that things will work out fine. I hoped that that evening wasn’t a sign of how I would be the rest of the weekend.  SATURDAY:

That morning my stomach was churning like there was no tomorrow. I felt like I was going to throw up so i didn’t eat anything for breakfast. We quickly got ready and took the tram to the convention centre. Once we got there I saw a huge line. Straight away I was looking around anxiously if there was a separate line for vips like last year. Luckily a lovely guardian came up to me and said I could walk right past the crowds and into the con. I got to the front of the line in about 10 minutes with the help of so many nice guardians! There I met Jasmine. Jasmine is someone I've known for well over a year now but it was our first time meeting. Talking to her automatically calmed my nerves because that was when it sunk in that I wasn’t alone this weekend! I had @creativelunatic, Jasmine, and so many other friends (who sadly only use facebook) Last year I just had my mum and one other friend who ran off to do their own thing the entire time. I strongly believe that if my friends weren’t there I would have had a much harder time. 

From there I quickly ran to the store with Jasmine to get merch before there was a line up. I got an rtx shirt, a nug club shirt, and some cow chop socks. We were in and out in ten minutes. After that I headed to the slow mo guys panel and got front row! Already I was happy that I spent so much money on a vip ticket. As you guys might recall one of the biggest lows of last year was not seeing Gavin, and now I was so close to him! It felt surreal! 

I then walked around for an hour or so and of course spent a bunch of saved up money on anime merch. I had lunch and met up with another friend, Stix. Yet another friend I’ve never met! He was so nice and wanted to help me with a little project I was doing for @h-golightly. @h-golightly has just come out of brain surgery and I have something i’ll be sending off to her soon~ I’ll post about it once she receives it! 

It was almost the end of the con day and I made my way to the ballroom where I sat with Jasmine, Jaden, and Ben for Off Topic and the RWBY season finale! During off topic Jack had this blue three pointed boomerang that he was trying to throw and catch successfully. This was a recurring thing with the same boomerang all weekend. Rwby was so intense, even more so with the reactions of the rest of the audience. It hit me hard, the fact that I was part of such a huge and loving community, that during Ruby’s letter I teared up. I felt that I had been worrying all for nothing. I was. 

SATURDAY EVENING: 

The VIP party was about to start and I wasn’t even ready! I had to rush when getting ready, but luckily when we got to the venue the party was only just starting to pick up. I don’t go out often so the bass and the vibe of the experience was all basically brand new even if it did remind me of a mosh pit. @creativelunatic was nice enough to order me a glass of rum and coke and so we sat in the corner sipping our drinks. I was worried the whole night i’d just be sitting there wishing I had the nerve to get up and talk to people. In a sort of “yolo” moment I walked up to Jack and the next thing I knew I was thanking him for making videos that got me through tough times! I told him how their videos helped me when my anxiety was really bad and I had no way of calming down. Jack was as nice as I expected him to be! He was more than happy to take a photo with me. somehow my hands didn’t shake when I took our selfie! God knows I was shitting myself!! 

The next person I saw was Lindsay talking to Jasmine! I had met her back in 2014 so my nerves weren’t as bad! I approached her and she complimented me on my piercings and said I was so nice! It was surreal that one of my idols was complimenting ME, I’ll always remember that. I couldn’t stop smiling. 

At this point my feet were killing me! I wore these lovely shoes but i only ever wear flats so it felt like I was walking on hot coals for the entire evening.

 I was going to sit back down and rest, satisfied with who I saw, BUT THEN I spot Jeremy about two meters away from me! I thanked him for getting me through tough times and he put his hand on my shoulder since he could tell I was anxious at that moment. He smiled at me and it felt so genuine. 

Gus was the next rt employee in my sights! I think I was anxious about him the most. I know his whole antisocial “hate everyone” sort of attitude is a whole joke but for some reason I felt worried that he wouldn’t understand how some silly videos could help me with my anxiety. I said thank you anyway and he said “oh it’s okay, I can relate”. Those few words were so comforting.

After trekking up the stairs one step per 10 seconds, I noticed Ryan. Of course he was surrounded by a bunch of chicks, I didn’t expect much else! Whilst waiting, a guy complimented me on my handbag and a girl complimented me on my dress We had a little talk before we parted ways

Ryan was really nice! He was confused as to how they helped me but said he was glad anyway!

Last but not least was Barb! We talked a bit and I took a photo, but the photo came out dark so she insisted that someone take the photo for us with the flash! She could tell I was anxious and was really supportive. Overall the night was a huge success! I got to meet so many people I look up to! I left feeling so full of joy and excitement! Thank you so much to @creativelunatic who stuck by me the entire time! You helped me gather the confidence, thank you <3 <3 

SUNDAY: 

In the morning I didn’t feel anxious but my stomach felt even worse. All the excitement from the past day had caught up to me and I ended up puking. Not a great way to start the morning but I wasn’t going to let that get me down! Once we got through bag check I had my two signings! The first was with Jeremy and Jack. They signed my minecraft sword and we talked a little before we took a photo. It was pleasant. I wasn’t feeling as anxious because I had met them the night before. 

Dan, Barb, and GAVIN were next! Gavin has and always will be my favourite ah member. I’ve always looked up to him, even striving to be like him to an extent. Last year was almost ruined because I hadn’t seen him so the anticipation had built up even more. I was shaking so much, emotions were boiling up to the surface and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep my cool in front of them. As I approached them I was greeted with smiles as Barbra complimented my shirt (The owl shirt from her clothing line) and almost instantly half of my anxiety washed away! I told them about @h-golightly and we made love hearts with our hands for her! This whole experience has sort of helped me with my anxiety in the way that I always thought of RT as these untouchable people. But as it turned out, they’re human too! If i’m worried about approaching someone I just have to remember that they’re people too! 

I had lunch in the vip lounge with @creativelunatic before heading to the main stage where we watched AH vs FH untill it was time for the AH panel. The AH  panel was definitely a highlight! Once again Jack tried throwing that damn boomerang! We went to the main stage after that and instantly got front row seats (luckily! It was almost full!) We watched the podcast and I sat with Jasmine during the Nintendo switch lets play with Michael and Gavin. It was hilarious! 

We were about to head off until some familiar faces came on stage! Gus and Jack. Whilst they talked about highlights of the weekend and saying thank you to all of us, Jack was still trying to throw the boomerang. He said he had done it before and Dan had seen him do it! On his second try it landed under me so I picked it up and quickly handed it to him. He tried again whilst they were walking off the stage and it landed in front of me again! I went to give it to him but he said I could keep it! This was the cherry on top! Me, out of all these people got the boomerang that jack had been carrying around all weekend! It was a crazy thought! 

Sorry guys, I know this is extremely long but I just wanted to record what had happened this weekend. I know i’ll remember this experience for the rest of my life. This is the sword I had signed! One side has my friends signatures and the other has RT employee signatures! 

[thederivativeofrad]

Update

We’re doing informative speeches in my COM101 Public Speaking course, (surprise, surprise), and so far there have been five, one of which was mine which quite frankly I wasn’t impressed with compared to how I had been performing. 

The other four have been phenomenal, but one so far has stuck with me in a way that I don’t particularly care for. That was a speech about drug addiction, the popularity of heroin, the effects of heroin, and discussion on how we can begin addressing this problem.

As I’ve discussed before, I am on medication for my seizures. They have been diagnosed as stress related and are being treated with Lamotrigine. This drug is not only an anticonvulsant, but it is a rising treatment for bipolar disorder. My neurologist went as far as to say that the medication I’m taking isn’t preventing my seizures directly, it is levelling my emotions to the point where my stress doesn’t build up the same way and they have since ceased. 

My first couple of months and quite long periods here and there have been pretty nice. Again, as mentioned, the medication makes me feel like a person again, not like some hallow shell. The thing with being a person is that you’re not happy all the time. Not everything is easily dismissible. In fact, my neurologist said that this will not always affect my mood for the better. 

As a medication for bipolar disorder, the point of this medication is not to make one feel better in the traditional sense of how we think of better, rather, it is to level moods and keep violent mood swings from being present. This allows one to work through their emotions, to manage what they’re feeling, while not having to deal with constant swings between mania and depression. This has been radically helpful in my growth as a stronger person, and it’s amazing what less than a year can do.

Those aren’t the drugs we’re collectively worried about, though. Those aren’t considered able to be abused. They don’t give you a high, they’re not something you’d buy illegally unless you needed them and couldn’t afford them at market price without insurance. 

What people talk about are 

Drugs.™

like marijuana, adderall, coke, meth, heroin, acid, ecstasy, nicotine, alcohol, shrooms... 

So many drugs that we can’t even keep track of all the names and the street names and what they do and what they look like, how much they cost and how easy they are to find in your neighbourhood.

I was surrounded by cigarette smoke, not at home but everywhere else. Growing up, every restaurant had a “smoking” section, the world was an ashtray, if so and so you knew didn’t smoke half their family did. It was social, like drinking always has been, and it was very much accepted socially. The smell gave me a headache. A brief whiff of cigarette smoke will give me a massive headache for a couple of hours. The last time I had a solid breath of second hand smoke I almost threw up and was holding my head throughout the last class I had for the day.

It’s not a quick I need to vomit feeling, either, it’s more of a slow something’s wrong... I don’t quite know b--oh lord

Still, I think about it.

I think about how people describe smoking, how it makes them feel, how their stress melts and they can think for a minute. I still see people smoking or chewing I think it’s disgusting I can barely hold down the lunch I forgot to eat but...

Vaping.

Now there’s something that doesn’t have the same apparent consequences. 

It doesn’t give me a headache, it’s not shamed publicly, it doesn’t smell bad, it doesn’t stain clothes or teeth or upholstery, it doesn’t leave ashes or butts in the sand at the beach or on the pavement in parking lots or the grass of parks. It can be classy, just like smoking used to be.

People do it just to do it, they do it for nicotine, they do it for THC, CBD, probably E and ten or fifteen other drugs that you can fit in a mod and it’s glorious because no one knows the wiser. What a way to try nicotine to see if it’s really sweet relief. What a way to be high in public and not even feel high at all.

But we’ve all thought about smoking at one point or another, we just decided it was either too gross, too risky, [inclusive] or too expensive.

Let’s take a step back to take two forward.

The speech the girl gave in class today referenced this Reddit thread that consists of an addict explaining what heroin feels like. A few replies down, a particular individual said this:

I'm glad to hear that you're well. I've always been curious about heroin. Not enough to try it, but I'm grateful for an honest account of what it's like. Your story sated my curiosity.

It didn’t sate mine. It sparked mine. 

It felt like the internal conversation I’ve had about nicotine; what does it feel like to be chill to be functional and happy without these excess feelings surrounding it? Excess feelings that other drugs provide, like pot. I’ve done the pots.

I’ve consumed marijuana recreationally and medically. I’ve let it lull me to sleep and I’ve stayed awake to feel my head spin like a rolodex and to laugh at someone playing Tetris just because it’s so amazing to me how well they’re doing. 

I’m happy, I guess, in a sort of artificial way, but I’m actually just more open--not really reserved in that time. I’d like to think I’m already fairly genuine, but pot makes me more open than I could ever be sober. 

I laugh at small things when I’m high because I’m amazed and I don’t hide it. 

I cry at small things when I’m high because I’m sensitive and I don’t hide it. 

I think thoughts I don’t let myself think when I’m sober because I can’t keep myself from thinking them. They’re not all good thoughts. 

Is that me, though? 

...

No.

I don’t particularly think so. 

I don’t think some of the things I think are reflections of who I am. I don’t think some of the things I laugh at are funny or that some of the things I cry about are sad or hurtful. I don’t feel like marijuana uncovers who I am, I feel like it puts on a different colour mask that’s fun and sometimes relaxing to hide behind, but it’s not normal, it’s not how I think of myself being, nor how I want to be consistently. 

So I’m not going to eat a cookie and go to class no matter how well I can hold my composure if I focus on doing so. That’s just wearing the mask and not even embracing it. That’s a mask on top of that mask.

After so many masks it gets hard to see, so what was the point of trying to clear your head if you can’t manage to get a decent view?

So...

About that heroin...

I get the point of how the individual described the drug. He starts off with how wonderful it [is] and lets that spiral until his life [is] encompassed by it. Even so, how does that first bit actually feel? What’s it like to experience a high that doesn’t put you in the clouds, but keeps you on the ground just with rose tinted glasses? Does it feel like love? Does it feel warm? Does it feel like doing the things you want to do because there isn’t anything negative eating at you preventing you from doing what you want to do all the time because why would you ever do anything that you enjoy how dare you say you enjoy anything in the first place 

I can’t do 

Anything 

I enjoy without 

Thinking

I can’t just sit back and listen to music I have to listen for the key the time signature the chords the rhythms the lyrics the notes the harmonies the dynamics the intonation the breathing of the vocalist

I can’t read I can’t watch movies I can’t consume media because I can’t shut my mind off for ten seconds in the “what happens next” category to just enjoy and let what happens next happen I have to guess and if I’m wrong I have to figure out what happened and why am I so stupid why couldn’t I figure it out

I can’t just sit back and eat my dinner I have to deconstruct it and figure out how it was made and where everything was sourced from and how many steps it took to get to where it is now and oh no is this under-cooked or just funny coloured or is it rotten or poisoned no no you’re crazy it’s just different than the rest of it for no particular reason other than that it’s organic matter and is imperfect or is it who touched this how can I get money from this if I get sick

I can’t lie down and go to sleep where did that sound come from WHERE DID THAT SOUND COME FROM WHERE DID THAT SOUND COME FROM 

What if I could just live?

What if heroin could help me to just live?

...

Well, thankfully, it’s not that bad anymore. 

It used to be. My medication makes it better, but it’s not perfect. I still feel bad sometimes and I still get that light headed feeling sometimes that makes me feel like I’m going to wake up somewhere that I wasn’t the last I recall and that’s honestly the worst feeling I’ve ever had in my entire life. I would take a large amount of physical suffering over having to face that again.

That’s one of the reasons I don’t try these things, but it really just comes down to the fact hat no matter how horrendously scarred I may be I’ve determined that figuring out if heroin feels as good as cuddling isn’t worth giving up the guaranteed comfort of cuddling. It boils down to a fairly simple conclusion:

I’m not stupid.

I won’t ever do these drugs.

I won’t drink, I won’t smoke, I won’t shoot up, I won’t huff.

I won’t take my life figuratively or literally through these poisons.

I’m not afraid of becoming an addict.

...

However,

I’m afraid of not ever overcoming the curiosity of being an addict.

I’m afraid I will never grow out of eyeing vapour mods.

I’m afraid of my intrusive thoughts

My considerations of self destruction

I won’t act on them, but we’re not any less afraid of the things we’ve been shown we should not logically fear.

We all have a handful of things we fear to some degree.

I’m not afraid of becoming an addict.

I’m afraid of the part of me who would already be

But he’s not in charge

I am.

Done out, peace update.

[cupofcuntea-blog]

The Notorious Ali Doom is Socals premiere burlesque, body positive, animal loving bio queen. You can catch Ali hosting "The Garter Lounge" at 340 Club and co-hosting "Whore Haus" at Redline in DTLA.

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FULL INTERVIEW ALSO AVAILABLE UNDER THE CUT!

1. Who is Ali Doom?

Ali Doom is all about body positivity, animal activism, glamour and stiff drinks.  She's not afraid to show too much skin.  She loves to wear tons of makeup.  She loves to go thrifting even if she doesn't make a purchase.  She loves to try to turn you on.  She loves shaking what God and Del Taco gave her.  She's a nudist and a sadist.  She loves brunch dates and 32oz Diet Cokes.

2. When and why did you begin doing drag? 

I started my performance career in 2009 but I was doing burlesque.  I loved it though.  I loved making my own outfits and coming up with new acts, etc.  There was always something missing though.  A lot of showgirls just wear the cat eyeliner and red, bold lip which isn't bad but I wanted more.  I wanted to be over the top.  That's when I discovered drag.  I saw RPDR on TV and I was immediately intrigued and that's what I wanted to be like, a drag queen.  They had big hair, big costumes, big personas.  That's what I wanted. So, that was in 2012, when I got into the whole drag scene and I remember I would go to drag shows alone because all of my straight girl friends didn't want to spend their weekends at gay bars.  After a while I started befriending queens and other fans of drag...the rest is history.

3. How did you come up with your drag name? 

There is no epic story around this but basically my cousin called herself Gabby Doom so I started calling myself Ali Doom.  The whole "Notorious" thing is pretty self explanatory.  So, that was that: Notorious Ali Doom.

4. Where does your inspiration come from? 

I get my inspiration from anywhere and everywhere.  When I was younger my mother would talk about the shows in Vegas where the showgirls were all done up in huge headdresses and rhinestones.  She would tell me they were so beautiful that you would barely notice that they were topless.  That's where most of the curiosity came from.  In the beginning of my performance career it was all about burlesque and showgirls, etc.  I also drew a lot of inspiration from my favorite drag queen, Raven, because she is seriously a chameleon she can do glam, comedy, dark glam, club kid, camp, etc.  I wish I could be as versatile as she is.  Now, I'm surrounded by so many creative individuals so I draw my inspiration from my drag family and my fellow performer friends.

5. What would you say is the most unique thing you have to offer? 

"A nice round butt and a pair of DD's" LOL in a nut shell.  I think I provide a lot of inspiration for women who don't feel confidant because they don't fit into society's mold of what is considered beautiful.  I'm a big woman and I exude confidence.  That's what I want people to take away from my performances.  I want them to be turned on and tantalized, of course, but I also want them to see that all bodies are beautiful.  I'm 202lbs, and I love my body, imperfections and all. 

6. What is your most embarrassing moment? 

RECENTLY, I was performing at D'Vil Dance Haus at Ripples in Long Beach and my wig flew off while I was performing.  I might have drank too much, I didn't glue her down and I obviously didn't pin her well enough.  That's the T.  You'd think it would be the time that one of my nipple pasties flew off, but no, if you're lucky enough to see one of my nipples consider yourself blessed.

7. How did you start the Doom family? Who is in the Doom family?

Frankie claimed me!  Not many people know this but the first time Frankie did drag she dressed up as me!  I knew I wanted a drag daughter and I had posted that on social media and Frankie basically shut that down and was very "Uh, no, I'm your daughter the search is over!" LOL  The Doom family isn't just drag performers though.  Lady Forbidden and Fasique are drag queens that are my sisters so they are a part of it.  Forbidden is very in your face, fetish, stripper, badass drag and Fasique is just fucking gorgeous I fucking hate her.  LOL  There's Krustyna Clown, who is a scary sex clown, Logan Doom who is a drag king,  Vivian Hart-Doom who is a modelesque, bearded queen, Matt our cute gogo boy and my henchmen Jacob and Edgar who basically just are my handsome escorts who I bribe with booze.  We're a good time.

8.  How long have you been apart of The Garter Lounge? When did you first start working at Whore  Haus? 

Garter Lounge will be two years old this July (2017) so I am patting myself on the back big time for that one. Whore Haus was my first gig with drag queens.  St. Peter D'Vil befriended me and added me to her group of alternative drag misfits.  That's also how I met Lady Forbidden.  Whore Haus was at 340 at the time but we are a traveling circus and it quickly moved to Los Globos, Micky's and we are currently on the move but that's all I can share on that subject. *wink*  I co-host Whore Haus with Peter so that in itself was a huge accomplishment for me because let's be honest the only gay things that women host are usually lesbian nights but I co-host an amazing drag show with alternative drag queens and creatures of the night.  

9. As a bioqueen up and coming in the community how have you been treated? What is your advice for future bio and drag queens and kings. 

I have been treated with nothing but respect.  I hear so many horror stories about drag queens treating bioqueens like shit and that just simply hasn't happened to me.  I would like to think that my performances speak for themselves and that I am entertaining, that's how I keep getting booked.  My advice is to not give up.  At the end of the day this is your art and not everyone will like it but other people's opinions of you shouldn't validate you.  When I first started out I wasn't booked, I would just go out all done up and people would notice.  It's as simple as that.  Just find your confidence and people will be attracted to that. 

10. What is your favorite makeup brand?

Anything vegan or cruelty free!!!!  I will be honest though, it's freaking hard to be completely cruelty free.  Jeffree Star lipsticks are my absolute favorite!  My signature color is Designer Blood.  I also love Kat Von D's products they are wonderful.  I have been using her foundation and it is just amazing.  Her brushes are amazing as well.  I'm a huge fan of Tarte cosmetics too!  My go to product would have to be Kat's foundation, some Coty powder (old school drag queen makeup),  Kat's contour palette, the Anastasia Beverly Hills "Modern Renaissance" eyeshadow palette, some 301's (stacked!), and Tarte's gel liner.  I forgot to mention Melt Cosmetics!  OMG their eyeshadow stacks are so dope I love them. 

11. What is your opinion on RPDR? Has it ruined drag or made it better?RPDR changed my life, it's safe to say.  Without the show I would've never have been interested in drag.  The fans can be so cruel though and that's where I think it has hindered us.  Death threats and telling contestants to kill themselves is not how we as fans should be represented.  This is supposed to be fun, granted it's a competition and people feel very passionate about it but still, there are lines that should never be crossed and they have been.  It has made drag more mainstream and with that maybe a tad more acceptable...hell my mom watches the show!  I would like to think the positive outweighs the negative but who knows?  I'm glad drag is somewhat more socially acceptable but it's also made people get real ugly.

12. Do you think that RPDR is ready for a bioqueen? 

No, people may not agree but I don't think so.  Give us our own show!  That would be cool.  If they let us try out for the show I would gladly submit an audition tape for it but I'd rather be on a show specifically made for us...

13. If your drag persona was a superhero, what super power would you have?

Invisibility so that I could walk around nude!  LOL just tits out watching you grocery shop.  Could you imagine? 

14. If you got on RPDR, who would you play for snatch game? 

Kat Von D.  I love her and I admire her so but she is pretty easy to make fun of.  I'd pretend to call up Jeffree Star and cuss him out.  Or I would post all of my relationship drama on Twitter.  Or I would pretend to use a non vegan product and claim that it was burning my face.  The possibilities are endless!!!  I have the voice down too.  When I was thinner and had dark hair people would always say I look like her!  I obviously don't see it, lately people say I look like GAGA, I also don't see that as well.  I just look like me guys...