#Before and After Drug Addiction Photos

[mattodore]

uncharacteristically honest at the party

theo: [slurred, voice barely there at all] mm... you smell good. [mumbling to himself] i feel all warm...

matthias: do i? any other confessions for me, mała myszko?

theo: [a beat] ...i like how you say that.

matthias: when i whisper it like this? [near theo's ear] my darling, mała myszko.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Down on all fours

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Blurb: After you unwillingly come clean about your undying love for Eddie Munson, your life is swept into a whirlwind of deceit, lust, confusion and regret… and glitter that Eddie can’t seem to shake from his pockets.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham

Warnings: 18+, slight angst (?), alcohol consumption, reader referred to as girl, cheating/unfaithfulness, drugs mentioned (weed), mentions of blood, depictions of violence, cursing, bodily insecurity, implied sexual themes. Character are 20+ and in a college setting!

-

divider by @cafekitsune

The movie theatre would never be the same anymore— not to you. Not since that day. A place once associated with joy and child like wonder, where you watched your beloved characters come to life on the big screen and where you could laugh openly, unattractively and purely with your friends.

Tainted. Forever changed.

But not forgotten. Never forgotten.

The memories have been eating you alive, feasting on your insecurity and your shame. Despite the look of fearful regret on Eddie’s face, you still thought about him.

Day and night— morning and noon. Before you slept and before you awoke each morning. He even infiltrated your dreams. Dreams are meant to be sacred, private affairs and yet, Eddie Munson still ruled them like the King of all of your desires. His ring clad fingers were still clutching onto your heart— squeezing and loosening his grip around the vital organ as he saw fit. He had the upper hand; the control.

He always did. He always has.

You couldn’t bring yourself to face them— any of them. Not Steve, not Robin, not Chrissy and especially not Eddie. It was peculiar, the addictive need to see Eddie no matter the cost— no matter the humiliation. It out weighed every sane thought you had.

You would steal glances at him from across a room, hiding in plain sight. Desperate for the shadows to claim you as their own; for the walls to hug you back. You felt other worldly, as if your soul was floating outside of your body and you had no rational feeling. No say. No voice.

Confessions should be freeing; but you have never felt so trapped. Chained. Soul tied.

Love conquers all, but love also might just conquer you.

-

It’s mid-week, and although college parties always attract unwanted attention you could never have prepared to see this many people crashing your family home. Precious photos were knocked over, the smashed glass from the frames line the top of shelves and cabinets- glittering them in a forbidden pixie dust.

Your bedroom has been occupied by a couple you didn’t recognise and if it weren’t for the pleasant buzz of alcohol coursing through your blood you most certainly would have screamed at them to leave. The sicker parts of you were envious of their engagement. Their human closeness and connection.

Why couldn’t you have that? Didn’t you deserve that?

So instead of blowing your top, you roll your eyes and scoff before slamming the familiar door obnoxiously loud and coke to nest at the bottom of the staircase; the wood is hard and cold against your bare thighs which causes you to pay some uncomfortable attention to your outfit. Sparkly, twinkly and stupid.

Your heart sinks to the abysmal pit at the bottom of your stomach at the realisation that nobody here really knows what this party is for. Who it is for.

Your birthday streamers that once decorated the walls proudly have become unpinned from the concrete, cascading down the wall in a massive spiral and hiding the message written on the plastic.

Happy birthday!

Not a single person had uttered those words to you the whole night. Even on a day where you were meant- born to be celebrated, you have been forgotten. A bystander in your own life. An observer in a theatrical play written for you. About you.

And the humour of it all?

You were used to it now.

Nothing could break your heart; because it was already in pieces.

Shreds. Splinters. Fragments. Puzzle pieces never to be solved or mended again. A heart shaped hole stamped into your chest where someone once lived.

Cobwebs inhabit the vacant crevasse, dust gathering on the sensitive walls. The sensitive walls that have hardened into a volcanic crust.

The only thing left behind in your impenetrable fortress? A single crumpled envelope with Eddie’s name written on it in cursive. The ‘i’ in his name punctuated with a loveheart.

He was the only tenant you wanted living there. And in reality, he should have been evicted a long time ago.

But nobody said love was easy. Nobody warned you that it would be this hard, though, either.

Was love supposed to make you this low? Was it supposed to make you find your bearings at the bottom of a red fizzing cup? The carbonated bubbles in your drink seemed to be your only friend tonight.

Would it really be your birthday if you didn’t cry at least once? Or twice… or thrice.

“Hey! Does anyone have any weed?” Your quiet attempt at a yell comes out of your mouth in the form of a drunken hiccup and you are debating the possibility that you may have stood up too fast, “Anyone? No?” Frustrated you pinch the bridge of your nose as you sigh loudly into your hand, your ears met by silence from your peers.

“I might.” You can hear a comedic tweak in his voice and you swear you can feel part of you die on the inside.

“Steve,” You say through clenched teeth, forcing a smile, “I didn’t know you smoked?” You also weren’t aware that he would be here— but you can’t deny the attention that this party is demanding from the neighbourhood. You are partly surprised that the police haven’t been called yet, but your neighbours aren’t known to be snitches.

“I don’t usually,” he shrugs dismissively, “I didn’t know you were throwing a party? Thankfully word travels fast in this town, huh?” His elbow gently nudges into your arm playfully, “There’s no better time for me to give you this.” He hands you a small box that has been wrapped all too perfectly in a sage green wrapping paper; brought together with a pretty black tulle bow. For a moment you are totally stunned, eyes inflated as you gawk down at the gift in your slightly shaky hands.

“You…” you search for the words, lost in his kindness and when you finally gather enough courage to meet his sweet brown eyes you nearly drown in their depths, “You got me a gift?”

He flashes you one of his signature Steve smiles and your drunk brain can’t seem to comprehend if this is a joke of not.

“Of course I did? You’re one of my best friends!” His voice is a happy chime as he ruffles his fingers through his chestnut gelled hair, offering the stiff strands some movement. You notice his pupils flicking between your face and the present in your hands, one of his eyebrows raise with subtle confusion, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Yeah- yes! Yes, of course!” You set your empty cup down on a nearby table before your nimble fingers come to wrestle with the sticky tape, painted fingernails clawing like an animal to get to the goods inside. There is a nervousness that comes with the unwrapping of the gift and you don’t quite understand why. The moment feels significant… special. You finally feel somewhat special tonight.

Eagerly, Steve keeps his warm amber eyes trained on you. A soft, dreamy smile itching at his lips as he awaits your approval. You and Steve had been friends for such a long time, you even opened your college acceptance letters together in his family dining room with his parents. He had always been there for you, through everything. One of your best friends— possibly your only friend.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while— how have you been?” His voice is laced with genuine concern but all you can do is ogle at what is displayed in front of you. A shiny silver necklace that had been personalised to have your name dangling from the chain with small colourful charms decorating the metal plating sit inside of the small box that Steve had handed to you. It was beautiful. It was you. And not to mention… it perfectly matched your outfit.

“Shut up!” You gasp, picking up the chain from the safety of its box and dangling it in front of Steve’s face, the neon stream of lights from the party reflect off of its pristine surface, “Steve!! What the Hell? This is stunning!” You become a fit of excited girlish giggles and Steve shakes his head at your outburst, finding it adorable.

“You like it?” He is booming to be heard over the increasingly loud music and you squeal, fumbling with the latch on the chain.

“Like it? I love it! Thank you so much!” You reach around your neck, fighting to clip the necklace and Steve offers you a helping hand accompanied by an amused chucklez, “It’s perfect, Steve, truly! I love it, I love it!” You brush your hair over your shoulder, allowing Steve to access the chain and clasp it securely.

“There! Pretty as a picture.” He winks at you and you toy with your name displayed across your chest; an honest smile gracing your lips.

“Happy birthday.” His large palm rubs the flesh of your shoulder and you nod at him in acknowledgement. There is an after glow that lingers after Steve’s touch disappears and you are not even aware of where he wanders off to but when you realise that you are stood alone… you feel that all too familiar feeling start to creep it’s way back into your chest. An icy chill. A storm brewing.

“Steve?” You call out to him, however your voice is wasted with how small it was and goes totally unnoticed. Your eyes drink in the sea of dancing, sweating bodies around you. The number of people in your home is multiplying— like a deathly virus.

The perky smile falls from your cheeks and only then do you remember why you were even talking to Steve in the first place— you wanted some weed. You needed some.

Or did you?

You wanted to escape life. To feel free from the bounds of Eddie Munson, free from the shackles of your mind. This is the only way you knew how… sleep wasn’t an option— he could reach you there.

Even the darkest corners of your mind, where even the ghosts refused to venture, were haunted by Eddie— there was no fleeing from him. You were his.

But he was Chrissy’s.

-

You find yourself outside, sitting in the cool night air by the side of your house. Your face is flushed from the alcohol and your skin feels as though it is prickling with heat; fiery.

Your mini skirt hugs your hips and thighs and you fist the fabric, suddenly uncomfortable with the way your body looks in the garment. The way the flesh of your thighs squish the ground beneath you has you stifling a scream and you wrap your arms tightly around your torso to shield the rest of your body from the world.

Your eyes flicker and blaze with the mirrored light from the street lamps, the orange hues meeting the chunky glitter that dominates your eyelids. The heavy makeup was starting to irritate your eyes, but you would do anything to seem half presentable. Anything to feel and look your best.

A choked laugh emits past your lips; it was ludicrous. How you had been exiled from your own birthday party. Left to the wolves of the wild. You didn’t mind too much— it meant you could finally take off this weighty mask you had been hiding behind all night. No more untruthful smiles, no more biting back teary eyes.

You could finally feel. And breathe.

However, your reign of peace and solitude doesn’t last long as your ears perk involuntarily at an all too recognisable thundering chuckle. This whole time, you had been preparing for him to show face and yet you have never felt so startled. A deer in headlights.

The chains around your wrists tighten as you stiffen, unable to move. Unable to respond or breathe or think.

Eddie had arrived.

“Woooah! Lookie’ here! If it isn’t the birthday girl,” Even in the dim light of the garden you can see his Cheshire smile examining you, “What you doing out here all alone, Sweetheart?”

Your breath remains lodged tightly in your throat, wound up like a coiled spring and you are unable to speak. It’s almost as if you are paralysed— has he hit you with a tranquillising dart? Or was that just his cologne that had you so wrapped up in everything that he is.

He called you sweetheart…

He called you sweetheart.

Sweetheart.

His sweetheart?

“Hello? Are you okay?” His hand waves in front of your face, causing you to blink and flinch momentarily at the sudden action, “Aren’t you cold out here?”

“No…” a whisper is all you could manage. It’s all you could afford to give him.

There wasn’t much of you left to give. Soon you would be this vacant polished shell of a human being— beautiful on the outside and hopeless on the inside.

“Okay, well… Happy birthday.” He nods at you enthusiastically, his voice like a siren song lulling you to your demise. He shoves his hands into his ripped jeans pockets, letting out an exaggerated shiver before he says, “Hey, have you seen Chrissy? She came here an hour ago and I haven’t really heard from her.” He tries to disguise the worry in his voice, but you can read him like a book. The way his hands are twitching from his pockets to rub anxiously at his neck, or how he bounces on the balls of his feet— the adrenaline causing him to be restless.

You wish Eddie could do the same with you. You wish he could see past this makeup and this charade. You wish he could recognise just how much that simple sentence had ruined your evening.

Of course he was here looking for Chrissy, why else would he have showed up? For you? Please. The thought alone was laughable.

“I didn’t even know she was here.” Your chin tilts to your shoulder where you can eye the large window looking on into your kitchen. The lights are out but there are neon fairy lights twinkling and illuminating the darkness. It’s almost as if you are looking through a kaleidoscope.

It had taken you hours to hang all of those lights, only to watch other people enjoy their warmth instead.

“You should come back inside, you don’t seem like you’re having a lot of fun out here in the dark.” Eddie takes a leisurely seat next to you and out of instinct you shuffle a few inches away from him, trying to create as much distance as possible, “Are you wasted? You’re being eerily quiet.”

“It’s a party, Eddie.” You sigh, answering him without leaving a single beat, an abrupt newfound confidence helps you to untangle your voice, “People get drunk at parties— I just wish I had some weed.”

It was ironic, wishing for weed as you talk to a weed dealer.

“Is that really your birthday wish? To have weed?” His shoulders bounce lightly as he laughs, his hands coming to find his coat pocket. You shrug in response to his question, tipping your head back and swallowing the last of what was left swirling around in the bottom of your cup.

The truth was, you hadn’t even lit your birthday candles yet. There hadn’t been a right time and you didn’t want to be that person. But if you had sparked those candles… you would have wished for him.

Not for weed. Not for money. Not for beauty or brains.

You would have wished for Eddie Munson.

“Here.” He is careful to take your hand into his, gently prying your fingers open and dropping a bud of weed into your palm before he is securing your fingers back over it, “It isn’t much, I know that but… if I could make your birthday wish a reality then I suppose that’s pretty alright, huh?” He holds your wrist loosely in his grip and your fuzzy brain can’t compute if you are dreaming or not.

You had expected fireworks from his touch— a massive explosion of technicolour and bright blinding lights.

But what you got was far more sensual than that. An electric shockwave travelled along your skin from your arm to your back, zapping down every vertebrae in your spine and coating your body in a blanket of goosebumps. Every single one of your hairs stood on end and this might have been the most alert you have felt all day. You felt awake. Resurrected. Alive.

“Are you sure?” You gulp, mouth suddenly dry, “I can pay you…” You start to frantically search your person for any sign of loose cash— your bra, did your skirt have pockets this morning? No. Where the Hell is your purse?

“No- no! This is a gift, from me to you! It’s your birthday for crying out loud!” Eddie is holding both of your wrists now, his attempt to still your nervous jittery movements, “Just enjoy it, okay? Just… just smile.” His deep pleading voice is painful as it enters your ears.

Just smile.

Smile? Weren’t you smiling?

“Thank you…” up until this point you hadn’t fully perceived just how close of a proximity you and Eddie were nestled at. His slight body leaning in closer to yours, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. He was within kissing distance and all you could do now was stare at his dimpled smile. The sight alone was enough to cause your own lips to tweak up at the corners.

“Do you know how to roll a joint?” Eddie could evidently sense the growing tension and he pulls away from you, not in a moment of disgust and terror— but out of respect. Attraction was clear but Eddie was like a loyal dog to Chrissy. There’s no way he would betray her.

“Oh- uhm… no, no I don’t.” You laugh slightly as you look down at the drugs held captive in your hand. Your skin being tinged with the ponging smell.

“Luckily for you, I’m a bit of a master at it.”

“Eddie?” A whimper. A whisper. Weak. Sorrow filled.

“Yeah?” His heavenly eyes had you questioning why thieves ever bothered to steal art— when you were looking at a masterpiece.

A pause. Nothingness. Expectation. Shadows.

“Why do you hate me?” The question is shuddered out through constricted teeth and you find an ungodly comfort in that familiar ache inside of your sternum, “You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you-“

“But you don’t love me. You don’t… like me.” You push your feet into the soft earth, coming to stand shakily in front of Eddie’s seated frame, “Every time I look at you, I can't help but hope you feel the same butterflies in your stomach when you look back at me.” Your eyes settle on the empty street, the only noise circulating the neighbourhood was coming from inside your house. Thumping bass beating in harmony with your heart, “But deep down, I know all you feel is pity."

“That isn’t true and you’re being cruel.” Eddie launches to his feet, darting to stand in front of you, “Where is this coming from? If I have hurt you, I assure you that it was never my intention— I could never hurt you purposely.”

“You didn’t have to purposely hurt me, Ed’s. All I had to do was sit back and watch you love someone else. Someone better than me… that was enough to break my spirit.”

A disruption shakes the interior of your house, a commotion surfacing and you can hear the cheers and whistles from your peers. Eddie clocks it as well, and you can see a panic distort his puppy like features.

“Please can we talk about this tomorrow, when you’re sober and… and we can both just figure this out? Please?” His hands find your shoulders, holding you steady as his chocolate orbs bear into yours. His attention is on you, but you can tell that his feet are ready to sprint indoors.

Quietly, you nod. Anything to please him. Anything to make him happy. Plus— you were also intrigued as to what was happening behind in you. Whatever it was, it had stirred up a whirlwind.

Eddie is quick to leave your side, like a whippet released onto a race track, taking the porch steps two at a time and you are hot on his heels. You are clumsy in your kitten heeled shoes, but you are right behind him.

‘I’ll follow thee and make a Heaven of a Hell.

To die upon the hand I love so well.’

William Shakespeare, Helena

-

“What’s going on?” You stagger into the shoulder of a Frat member, whispering an inaudible apology as he turns to glare down at you. Though, after he takes in your appearance his solid and annoyed expression softens into amusement and what you can only assume as blind lust.

“Harrington and Cunningham got caught banging in the bathroom— can’t believe you missed it! It was fucking priceless.” He drapes his heavy muscular arm over your shoulders and your knees nearly buckle beneath you at his weight pressing down on you.

“What?” You peek up at him through your eyelashes, clearly dazed. You have to make sure— you have to hear him say it again.

“Cunningham? Chrissy?” He is laughing rudely into your face and your nose scrunches distastefully at the stench of beer on his breath, “And Steve Harrington! They were fucking! He had her bent over the bathroom sink, man! His hands full of her hair— pretty sure the mirror is gonna be covered in lipstick!” Finally he unhooks his arm from around your neck and you feel like you may just float up to the ceiling.

You push away from him, using his massive hulking body to propel you further into the mob, your eyes desperate to find Eddie in the crowd. And when you do… it’s ugly.

Anguish, rage, indecision and fear blaze in Eddie’s tear glossed eyes. The gears inside of his head were working like clockwork and you knew where this was about to go as he stares murderously at Steve. Jaw wired tightly shut, nostrils flaring into bullet sized holes and fists so punishingly rigid that you can see the bones of his knuckles straining against his skin; turning his skin to a snow like shade of white.

Steve descends from the top of the staircase alone. His hair is tossed into a messy heap upon his sweat soaked head and you can read from his slumped and lazy stance alone that Steve is totally gone. His hands grasp the bannister, clinging onto the wood for dear life in hopes that he won’t fall down the steep steps.

“Eddie- no, don’t do it!” You try to move toward him as quickly as your boozy brain would allow, but it’s too late. Eddie is flying toward Steve like a bat out of Purgatory.

Time appears to speed up as you watch the violence unfold in front of you alongside the rest of chanting crowd. Eddie has smashed Steve against the wall by the collar of his shirt and you swear you hear some sort of cracking noise come from concrete from the connection of Steve’s back hurling into the plasterboard.

“Fuck! Guys, stop it!” Not only are you terrified of Steve getting beat to a pulp— but your parents would kick you out of the house if things got tarnished beyond repair. And that includes the paint work.

A brutish punch thrown by Eddie bursts Steve’s cheek open and you squeal in horror at the stream of pure gore that spurts from the gnarly wound, “Jesus Christ, Eddie!!” Marching up the staircase you wedge yourself between the two men and Eddie’s movements still. He allowed himself one punch. One good punch, as a warning and also as a courtesy. He didn’t want to frighten you and he also didn’t want to take advantage of Steve’s inebriated state.

One punch is all he needed to satisfy the sickening anger bubbling within him.

And then he fled— like a killer at a crime scene.

“Eddie! Wait- fuck!!” You curse, your hands finding your hair as you tug on the roots of the delicate strands. You are beyond stressed. All you can do is watch as Eddie weaves his way through the mosh pit of bodies who had all quickly gone back to dancing— like nothing had happened.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Steve blubbers next to you and you turn to him, your eyes widened with shock and distress but it doesn’t take long for your glare to become vexing.

“What did you do, Harrington?! If you weren’t already bleeding right now I would slap you in your goddamn face!” Your grip on him is scolding and hurried as you manage to help him down to rest on one of the wooden steps, your eyes unable to waver from the crimson leaking gash on his face.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” His face rests in his hands as he breathes deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. And just as you prepare to give him a bollocking of a life time, Chrissy emerges from sanctuary of the top floor, desperately trying to rescuer her bra straps back onto your shoulders. Her clothes are twisted sloppily around her body and she, too, is undoubtedly, totally, 110% fucking hammered.

Both your and the blondes eyes meet and your lips pinch downwards into a frown. Your head shakes disapprovingly and your mind is clouded with nervy thoughts for Eddie’s wellbeing and all you can conjure up to say to the dishevelled woman is;

“How the fuck did this happened?”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae

[rafesfavgirl]

two graves, one gun — r. cameron

sad rafe fic bc i just got my period and i'm feeling extra emotional :')

series: every few lifetimes

❝ so long, london stitches undone two graves, one gun you'll find someone ❞

pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after another night of getting coked out and passing out on barry's couch, rafe realizes you deserve better than him and decides to let you go.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: drug addiction, break-up, might make you cry, ANGSTY asl

the sole of your heel taps anxiously against your living room's hardwood floor, as you stared at the time on your phone's lock screen, which lit up with a photo that wheezie took of you and rafe sitting at one of the tables at midsummers last year, looking at each other as if you were the only people there.

8:30 p.m.

your heart aches at the realization that he had forgotten your date again, but the nerves that settle in your stomach win over, as you think about where he probably is.

pushing your weight off the sofa, you grab your car keys from the hooks on the wall, and dial rafe on your way out the door.

straight to voicemail. fuck.

you skip down the steps in front of your house and unlock your car in the driveway to get in, immediately starting the engine to get on your way.

you dial rafe again as you pull into the road—to no avail.

"damn it, rafe," you mutter, eyes switching between the road and your phone as you type him a message.

you: where are you???

when the message doesn't even go through, you let out a frustrated groan. either his phone's dead or it's switched off. you step on the gas to speed up, zigzagging between cars to get there faster.

you pull to an abrupt stop in front of a beat-down house on the south side, and switch the car off before hopping out.

"mrs. country club, what brings you to this side of the island?" barry stands from the porch when he sees you walking towards him, fuming.

"oh spare me the fake hospitality, barry," you tell him. "where is he?"

"where's who?" he shrugs—but you knew he knew what you were talking about.

"don't play dumb with me," you spat, attempting to walk past him. "i know he's here."

he steps to the side to block you from going any further. "maybe so, but it ain't a pretty sight."

"ugh," you manage to walk past him and proceed into the house, with him on your tail. "rafe!"

barry catches up to you and blocks your way again. "hey, i told you-"

"barry, you're really testing my patience here, alright?" you say, refusing to back down. you weren't scared of him—okay, maybe a little, but you weren't about to let him see that. "rafe!"

you push past barry again, and make your way further inside, immediately rushing to rafe, who was passed out face-down on barry's couch.

"oh my god, rafe!" you crouch down beside him, not missing the un-sniffed lines of coke on the wooden table in front of him, and pick up his head in your hands. "baby, baby," you gently pat his face with your hand. "can you hear me?"

"told you it wasn't a pretty sight," barry leans against a wooden post and watches you, making you roll your eyes.

"rafe," you try to wake him up again. "babe."

thankfully, his eyes flutter open, relief washing over you as you let out a sigh. "oh thank god."

"y/n?" his voice is barely above a whisper when his eyes lock with yours. "shit!"

you move aside when he suddenly sits up, searching the couch cushions for his phone. "what time is it?"

"rafe-"

"no, fuck!" he shouts when he realizes his phone is dead, and looks up at barry. "i told you to wake me up if i knocked out!"

"i'm not your keeper, cameron," barry shrugs. "just take your shit and go, a'ight?"

"baby…" rafe turns to you kneeling on the ground beside him, his voice much softer now. "i swear i set an alarm— i was just— i didn't think my phone would die and-"

"hey," you place your hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly to make him look at you. "don't worry about it. let's just get out of here, okay?"

he nods, and you stand up, dusting yourself off as you do.

"i'll meet you in the car, doll," he tells you. "i just gotta take care of something."

—

the car ride back to your house is almost completely silent, until rafe breaks it.

"you look beautiful, by the way," he says, eyes shifting to you.

you glance at him, a small smile on your lips. "thank you."

"god, i'm such an idiot!" he groans, clearly frustrated with himself over the situation. "how many missed dates is that this month?"

"rafe, i told you not to worry about it," you tell him. "it's okay, i get-"

"y/n," his voice is stern now, his eyes burning holes into your skin. "how many?"

you sigh, turning the wheel towards the curb to park the car in front of your house. "four," you answer, switching the ignition off. "that was the fourth one this month."

rafe scoffs and shakes his head, eyes averting away from you. he just couldn't look at you anymore, because he knew that even if you didn't show it, you were disappointed. not only at him, but maybe even yourself for putting up with him.

"hey," you place a hand on his knee, and he glances down at the gesture, before finally looking at you. "it's okay."

"how is it okay?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing. "all i do is disappoint you."

"baby, that's not true," you try to reassure him, but he doesn't buy it.

"it is true," he tells you. "and you don't deserve it."

not knowing what to say, you just glance down at your hand on his knee. "rafe…"

"no," he cuts you off, and places his hand above yours to slowly push it off of him. "i can't keep doing this to you."

letting out a sigh, you adjust yourself in your seat so you're looking at him. "okay, rafe, before you saying anything else— i love you, alright? there's nothing you can do that-"

"and that's exactly the problem, a'ight?" he snaps. "you're never gonna walk away from me yourself! even when i bought this shit from barry after i told you to wait in the car." he reaches into his pocket and tosses the small bag of blow in between the two of you. your eyes shift from it to him, the uneasiness in your stomach only getting worse.

"i have a problem y/n," he tells you. "and it's not the kind you can just 'fix' with love."

"then we'll get you help. we'll do any-" you try to reach out to him, but he resists.

"no," he says, motioning a hand between you two. "this has to end."

the words you dreaded hearing comes out of his mouth in one fell swoop, your heart shattering into a million pieces.

"what?"

"i'm never gonna be the guy you need me to be," he shakes his head at you, and if it weren't so dark outside, you swear you'd see his eyes watering. "and since you can't let go, i have to do it for you."

tears brim along your lower lashes as you speak, "no. that is not your choice to make."

"god, y/n, can you stop making this harder than it already is?" he pleads.

"can you stop acting like it's so easy?" you retort.

"you think this is easy?" he asks, taken aback by your accusation. "it kills me to do this."

"then don't," you say, voice cracking as you reach out for his hands. "we can work through your addiction together, rafe. we'll-"

"that's not your responsibility," he shakes his head at you. "if i'm gonna get better, i need to do it on my own."

you sob, "i— i don't want this to be the end.”

rafe glances down at your hands, before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.

you lean into his touch, and a single tear rolls down your cheek—one that he wipes away with his thumb.

"i love you so much," he says, eyes closing as his head tilted down against yours. "i'm sorry."

his lips place a soft kiss on your forehead, and just like that, he's gone.

part 2.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[twopoppies]

The article is in Spanish, but it's a very trustworthy source from Argentina. That Roger was a fucking leech, hope he rots in jail

https://www. infobae. com/sociedad/policiales/2024/11/08/pesos-argentinos-para-comprar-droga-negocios-en-comun-y-dias-libres-el-oscuro-control-de-rogelio-nores-sobre-liam-payne/

This is so fucking disturbing. I know fans have had a bad feeling about Roger for a while. It sounds like they weren’t wrong.

Today, Nores is charged with abandoning Liam Payne and killing him , as well as supplying and facilitating him with drugs, in a relationship that sources in the case describe as “almost Maradona-esque, a friend of the champion , like those who surrounded Diego at his worst .” To charge him, Madrea and his team analyzed 800 hours of footage from the CasaSur hotel and opened Liam’s phone. In addition, they took a large number of testimonies, including that of Liam’s father, Geoff Payne.

Liam's father said the same thing that the courts were able to confirm through the analysis of communications and the comparison of other testimonies: that Nores, after meeting Payne in Miami at the beginning of this year, became the force that dominated his life. If the Payne family wanted to know how the singer was, then they should contact Rogelio. He was not just another friend of Liam's, under any circumstances. Geoff Payne himself said it: "Roger" was always the intermediary. "He is better than ever," he would have told the family when asked.

And this explains the charge of abandonment of a person. It is not about the fact that the businessman did not come to the singer's aid, but about the long road that led to the CasaSur hotel.

The businessman would have become a sort of de facto manager . Although they did not have a specific contract in this regard, sources in the case say that Nores operated as an "investment advisor" and that they had business in common in view of Payne's possible return to the world stage. For this, the singer's recovery from his addiction to drugs and alcohol was key. He just had to be detoxified.

Nores accompanied Payne in a deep detoxification treatment in the United States. There, a psychiatrist prescribed sertraline, the antidepressant that was found in the toxicology test on the singer's body. The specialist said it clearly: if you mix alcohol and cocaine with sertraline, the result can be lethal.

Then, another treatment in Spain was carried out, which also failed. So they ended up in Argentina. Payne was put up in a prestigious five-star hotel that was used to hosting big rock stars. They kicked him out of there. They even visited a local psychiatrist, who testified in the file. After the five-star hotel, they both went to the Patagones polo club with the singer's last girlfriend, Kate Cassidy, where the singer was photographed wearing a helmet and heels on a horse. They spent a few days there. However, Payne quickly became nervous and left the place.

Thus, they arrived at the CasaSur hotel in Palermo on the Sunday before the death. Liam did not even have a bag. There, according to the testimonies and analysis that are part of the case of the prosecutor Madrea, Nores' control would have been much more evident, with alleged orders to the hotel staff to report each expense. Nores, this time, managed Payne's expenses , while receiving calls for each whiskey, champagne or tequila that the former One Direction member ordered, with physical money delivered at the reception. The evidence also speaks of "free days" when Liam could consume cocaine.

The day he died, precisely, was a “day off.”

Thus, Nores frequently returned to the hotel to top up the bill. Payne, meanwhile, insisted on the phone, asking for Argentine pesos to pay the dealers who offered him cocaine, with photos of the bags they offered him and the corresponding prices. The prosecution suspects that Nores had obtained cocaine for him himself, which led to the second charge against him.

Meanwhile, hotel cameras filmed Liam as he wandered the halls , drunk and with a distant look.

For the time being, Nores is free, with his passport handed over to the courts and a ban on leaving the country, while he awaits being summoned for questioning by Judge Laura Bruniard. Article 106 of the Criminal Code, which defines the crime of abandonment followed by death, speaks of “anyone who endangers the life or health of another, either by placing him or her in a situation of helplessness, or by abandoning to their fate a person who is incapable of taking care of himself or who must be maintained or cared for, or who the author himself has incapacitated .” Here, the alleged supply of narcotics plays a key role.

If convicted, he could face up to 15 years in prison. Given the amount of the sentence, the crime is not bailable.

[rapunzelbro]

A Sacrifice For a Friend Angel Dust x Reader 2

This is super angst sorry not sorry part 3 will be up later in the week or two I decided to switch to story format

Masterlist Taglist

1 2 2.5 3 3.5 4 5 6 Statement

“WHAT THE FUCK Y/N!” Angel Dust was late. By the time he got to where you were that sick fucks fog pulled you down to who the hell knows where and Angel’s chains appeared before they shattered “Goodbye Angel Cakes, seems like a bitch did actually love you after all..” Valentino just had a smirk, the contract signed with his name, Anthony, suddenly appearing, getting set ablaze as the ashes hit the ground “Enjoy freedom bitch” Valentino disappeared. Angel was just stuck in silence as the tears began to pool up is his eyes “No I no..” he struggled to get his words out, his breathing labored as he slowly begun backing away from the spot you were preciously, staring at the space like he could still see you “this wasn’t- this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen you’re so reckless damn it! You know that right? You just.. you..” his voice was mumbling as it turning into sobs “Why did you leave me Y/n?”

He drank a lot that night, he almost lost all his progress with quitting his drug addiction, he didn’t know what to do. The guilt just consumed him entirely that he just was left questioning why. His room was torn apart out of the frustration he was left in. The rest of the hotel found out about the news later on, they never saw any of the signs of Y/n changing and becoming distant. Part of Husk felt responsible that he didn’t force Y/n to stay at the hotel that night, he knew something was wrong, he knew what stupid shit you’d be willing to do for Angel Dust.

His stubbornness on not getting involved caused all this bullshit to follow through, he didn’t have the heart to tell Angel Dust or any of the hotel. Charlie was the first to go into your room after you were finally gone, the photos on your decorated door remain, ones with you and Angel Dust together, ones you took with the entire hotel. She decided for Angels sake it would be better if she took them down. Entering your room hit her like a rock. It was so empty, like someone was moving out or just moving in, It was nothing like how you had it before. The once pink and glamorous room that resembled a lot of Angels room, was bleak dull and boring. That alone broke Charlie’s heart to see the progress even if it was a little, go away. She remembers when you first arrived how you said you weren’t going to be here long so why the fuck should you decorate? You said you were going to jump here and there, but that’s before you met Angel Dust. You two spent the last two weeks decorating your room to perfection, you were always next to each other and there for each other, she remembers when you first made your decision to stay and try to be redeemed. She had such a proud smile and had a cake in celebration, that was captured in the photograph that once was on your door. But now you were just gone. She could only worry about Angel Dust and how she had to be strong for his sake.

Angel didn’t leave his room for days and that’s when Husk went to investigate, he wanted to give him time but if he didn’t come out soon he wasn’t sure what would happen. He didn’t knock, he just opened the door to see multiple bottles of liquor on the ground, he’d lie if he said he wasn’t relieved there wasn’t any drugs in that mix, he didn’t want to see him go that far down. Angel was just on his bed with Fat Nuggets cuddles up to him, as he just laid there silent. “Angel” Husk started before Angel visibly tensed up “The fuck do you want? Haven’t you heard of knocking” he didn’t bother to look at him, he didn’t want to look at anyone. “You’ve been up here for two days, what the fuck I want, is to make sure you’re okay” Husk replied annoyed crossing his arms looking at his silhouette. Angel didn’t respond to him for a while but Husk remained in place waiting for whenever he is ready “Why… why did Y/n do it Husk? Please tell me.. why would they do this..” Angel weakly said, trying to not break out sobbing again “Angel I wish I had the answer to that, but you knew how crazy Y/n could be, they said it once before at the bar, they would risk their life for those they loved. Y/n did just that..” Husk tried to explain before Angel jerked up glaring at the man “I never asked them to! Do you remember me ever fucking saying that shit!” He yelled, startling Fat Nuggets who jumped off the bed and retreated elsewhere “No but they knew you wanted out. Y/n was the one who took care of you and knew the most. Y/n’s room still has their stuff in it.. I didn’t know if you wanted in there but if you wanted to go through her remainings you can.. there’s food downstairs if you decide to head down there” Husk left after that and Angel just sat up wiping his tears standing up and going into the mirror. God he looked like shit, he would be caught dead if anyone saw him like this under his contract with Valentino, but now he doesn’t have to worry about it. He doesn’t have to worry about coming home bloody and bruised. It still didn’t make any sense to him why you did what you did. He left the room after trying to fix his appearance, he didn’t care as much right now as he went to your room. His heart ached more the closer he got to your room, he didn’t see the photos there anymore, the ones with the hotel all together and the ones with him and you. When he opened the door he instantly started sobbing when he saw your stuff in boxes and the once lively room looking absolutely lifeless. He tried to look through the boxes but it only caused him to break down more. He didn’t know if his heart would ever recover..

Angel Dust tag list: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @satansmanager @storydays @saturnhas82moons @zamadness @fizziepopangel

[bangtanficsforyou]

Hello, Love! (JJK)-02

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don’t know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister’s fiance wasn’t it.

Word count: 5.6K (approx)

Warning: mentions of drug addiction, familial neglect.

I'll add all the links in a few days time!

It’s six in the morning when the doorbell rings.

Hurried footsteps make their way through the hallway and to the main door. The door is opened to reveal a long queue of people and one by one, everyone starts filling in. Anyone could have been fooled into thinking that this was afternoon.

The quiet apartment is now filled with excited greetings and a constant low murmur in the background.

Now it finally looks like there’s a wedding in the house, Jungkook’s mother thinks silently, with a small, satisfied smile. 

“Can’t believe our Jungkook is getting married!”

“I know right! I’m so glad that it’s a love marriage!”

“Have you looked at Riya’s photos? She’s so pretty.”

Had it been in Busan, I would have booked the costliest bungalow for them. But no, they wanted a destination wedding. Jungkook’s father thinks as he looks at the newly arrived guests chatting among themselves.   

Don’t get it wrong, the rented apartment is more than sufficient. But excuse him for his thinking. It’s his youngest son’s wedding after all. The father in him wanted to put the connections he has made over the years as the police commissioner, to good use.

“I am thinking of wearing red on the day of the wedding and saving the yellow for the reception.”

“I am confused as to what I should do with my hair.”

“We can simply book a stylist for a few days.”

I need to be out of here, comes the big conclusion in Jina, Jungkook’s sister in law’s, mind.

Her lack of patience could be credited to the fact that she is five months pregnant.

Jina is undoubtedly happy about the occasion of Jungkook’s marriage. How can she not be? Jungkook is like her own little brother, after all. But please excuse her for not wanting to be a part of the conversation as to who’s wearing what, when she feels like a boiled potato.

Jungkook will take care of this, Ju Hyun thinks, the moment his eyes meet his wife's. After seven years of marriage, one becomes an expert at deciphering their partner's expressions. 

Ju Hyun looks at Jungkook, who's currently been crowded by the kids. “Jungkook?”

Jungkook looks up, and silently sighs to have found an excuse to escape. 

“Yes, hyung?”

“Please take Jina out for some fresh air.”

Jungkook looks at his sister in law, and the reason behind his elder brother's request becomes very visible to him. 

“Why can't you take her out?” Jungkook whispers. 

“I have a case file I need to go through.” Comes Ju Hyun’s short and simple reply.

Before Jungkook can reply, his phone rings to notify him of an incoming call. 

Riya. 

“Can you come to hotel Delta?” Greets the voice as soon as Jungkook answers the call. 

“Hotel Delta? Where is it?” Jungkook asks. 

“I'll send you the address and please try to be as quick as possible. I need to go back to shooting.”

“Don’t worry, I'll be there in ten minutes,” Jungkook promises, even before checking where and how far the destination is. 

As he ends the call, two expectant gazes, meet him. One that of Ju Hyun’s and the other that of Jina’s. 

Oh right.

“Sinu-i, don't worry–,” Jungkook does a quick scan of the room and his eyes halt when they land on Jimin, relaxing with a cup of tea in his hand, “–Jimin will accompany you.”

Jimin looks perplexed, having no clue why his name just got mentioned.

Jungkook spots a fast-pacing Riya and curses in his mind, knowing damn well he’s late. In his defence, it isn’t an easy task to get out of a house full of relatives. Not to mention the traffic.

“So, this is your ten minutes?” Riya asks on spotting Jungkook, with a face that clearly reads that she is not impressed at all.

“I’m sorry, there was a whole lot of traffic on the way.”

Riya sighs and motions Jungkook to follow her. “Suzy called me, apparently no venues are available on the date you suggested.”

A frown appears on Jungkook’s face. “Is that so? But that date is very auspicious for marriage. It comes once every seven million years.”

A scoff. “Seven million years ago only dinosaurs got married.”

It takes Jungkook a moment to realise that it wasn’t Riya who spoke the words.

“Jungkook, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Jungkook, he will drop you off.”

“Hello,” Jungkook greets politely, waiting for you, who's sitting comfortably, to look up from the menu card. 

“Hi,” you look up and give Jungkook a brief curt nod and return to the pages of the menu card.

YOU. It’s you!!!! Jungkook’s mind exclaims. The t20 girl.

“You drop her off at the address I mentioned, there you will find Stuart. Stuart will take Y/N to the hotel,” Riya gives off the instructions and quickly bids her goodbye.

Jungkook looks around a little, feeling awkward and a little clueless as to what he should do now. Seeing that you are so invested in the menu card, he decides to take a seat and ask you whether you would like to have something.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“An espresso with a shot of cream,”

The quick and brief answer surprises Jungkook. He blinks and waits for something more–what, he does not quite know (well, maybe you looking at him and acknowledging him would have been nice).

Pushing his surprise aside, he orders two coffees.

He looks around some more, because you refuse to leave the menu card even now. Out of curiosity, he subtly leans in and takes a peak to figure out what could be so interesting in those pages.

Huh? There is nothing out of the ordinary.

Are you perhaps memorising the prices of each item?

Well, shouldn’t you be showing a little more interest in someone you met seven years ago?

Jungkook averts his eyes like a thief being caught in action, when you flip the page. He sighs in relief though when he realizes that you have not caught into his little peaking. However, just moments later he feels stupid because what exactly is he doing?

“Do you remember we met seven years ago?” The question slips out from Jungkook’s mouth with a hint of hope and excitement.

You look up.

First blink.

Second blink.

Third blink.

“No.”

And then you are back to your beloved menu card.

“T20 cricket? Remember we talked about the different formats of cricket?” Jungkook pushes, hoping something would click.

You look up, again.

First blink.

Second blink.

Third blink.

“No.”

Jungkook deflates. Your eyes were blank. You truly do not recognize him.

Minutes pass as the order arrives and both of you have sips from your beverages. Surprisingly and much to Jungkook’s annoyance, your attention has now shifted to the view outside as you peer through the window right next to your seat.

“Shall we leave?” Jungkook queries as soon as both of you are done.

You give a nod and before Jungkook can even get up, you have your luggage on your shoulders and are heading out through the door.

Jungkook remains astonished with his mouth parted slightly as he looks at your retreating figure.

Isn’t he supposed to be the one guiding you out?

He shakes that thought away and quickly gets up with the intention of catching up with you before you get lost.

The car is filled with awkward silence. Thankfully, it does not bother Jungkook anymore. He has gotten used to it but for some reason, Jungkook finds it a little disappointing.

Maybe his excitement was simply rooted in the fact that he was meeting someone he never expected to meet again, that too after seven whole years.

Or maybe a small childish part of him thought, you two would hit it off again, like you did the last time. Maybe he had also entertained the idea of you two becoming good friends. With Riya being a common link between the two of you that thought was not much farfetched.

Wait. How do you and Riya know each other?

Jungkook looks at you but right as he’s about to voice his curiosity, your phone rings.

His eyes focus back on the road, with the knowing that he will have to wait to ask the question.

” Fāshēngle shénme?”

Huh?

“Gàosù tāmen wǒ hěn kuài jiù huì gěi tāmen qián.”

Is that…..Mandarin?

“Qǐng bǎozhòng.” You end the call.

It is Mandarin!

“You know how to speak Mandarin?” Forgotten is the question about the connection between you and Riya. Your fluency with the foreign language now has his attention.

You look at Jungkook and nod. Then you are back staring out of the window.

Huh? Do you only speak with nods? And what is with you and staring out of windows? Jungkook thinks, his annoyance sparking again.

“I think this is the place,” Jungkook announces, after ten more minutes of driving. Having stopped the car, he looks around through his window.

The sound of a car door opening echoes and Jungkook is startled to find that you are already out of the passenger seat. As you open the back door to take out your luggage, he quickly speaks, “Wait, let me call Stuart.”

“No need, I can see him,” you answer confidently.

Jungkook frowns in confusion and watches as you cross the road and pause in front of a short young man. Quickly taking out the number Riya had given him, he dials it.

To his relief, it is the man across the street that picks it up.

“Stuart?

“Speaking.”

“Take ma’am to the hotel carefully and make sure she has everything she might require.”

Jungkook thinks that for a brief moment, Stuart looked confused. But he ignores it thinking, he cannot be sure about a man’s expressions from across the street. With a confirmation from Stuart, he ends the call.

He waits in his car until the both of you are out of sight.

With a sigh of relief, he starts the car engine. As the tires get moving, his thoughts drift to you and how odd of an encounter it was.

He would have said you were not your usual self but then what does he even know about you? The only interaction he has had with you prior to this was seven years ago, a conversation that lasted for about ten minutes. People change. Maybe you did. Or maybe you were always like this and that one particular evening you happened to feel chatty.

Who knows.

As he turns off the engine after having parked his car in the garage, his phone pings.

Riya: Thanks :)

A content smile spreads over Jungkook’s face and forgotten is the weird encounter he just had with you.

TWO DAYS LATER

 “Your letter is T.”

The groom’s side discusses among themselves as to who would continue the game further with the letter T.

“Aunty, why don’t you sing two lines?” Seema, the bride’s sister suggests.

Jungkook’s mother visibly shies at the suggestion and mutters a bunch of ‘No’s to deny the request. This only urges the bride’s team to request her even more.

After much hesitation, Jungkook’s mother takes a hold of the mic. However, the moment the microphone is in her hands a look of determination spreads over her features and a switch is flipped on.

…….and then takes place the onset of a classical song.

Both the teams are equally caught off guard by the sudden change of……atmosphere.

Jungkook, who was watching from a distance, finds great amusement at the scene unfolding in front of him. People find out about his mom’s expertise in classical music in the funniest of ways.

Knowing pretty well that the classical music will go on for some time, he decides to take a little stroll around the place. Since, Jungkook’s extended family have finally arrived, tonight is supposed to be a grand celebration of the engagement.

Some ten minutes later, he finds himself in a small circle of men involving a few of Riya’s industry friends.

“Shooting has been incredibly hectic these days,” groans Vikram.

“Last day, we shot till four in the morning,” adds Chris.

“With how busy the schedule is, I am just thankful that I can attend Riya’s marriage,” Jay, a rather close friend of Riya’s , comments.

Jungkook hums and nods along, only adding words when required.

“Isn’t that Trisha?” Vikram queries, squinting his eyes to figure out if his guess is right or wrong.

“Yes, it is,” Jay confirms.

“Oh god, she is drunk. Hope she does not cause a scene.” Chris’s words have the opposite effect as at that very moment, Trisha collides with a waiter and causes the tray of mocktail he was carrying to fall on the ground.

“You can never trust Trisha and Y/N to not cause trouble.”

“Y/N?” The mention of your name takes Jungkook by surprise. Why are you getting mentioned out of nowhere? And how do Riya’s friends know you?

“You have not heard of Y/N? She is Riya’s younger sister.”

Okay, whoa, Jungkook did not see this coming.

“Y/N is Riya’s sister?” Jungkook asks, just in case he had heard things wrong.

“Yeah, they are five sisters, Seema, Kriti, Riya, Neena and Y/N.”

He is well familiar with the other four names. He has met them, talked to them and sees them quite often at family occasions. But, you? You are the fifth sister?

The noises around Jungkook fade as his mind processes this newfound information.

He did not think that his curiosity about your and Riya’s connection would be answered this way and that you would turn out to be Riya’s sister.

Jungkook has been trying his best to sleep.

His attempt, so far, has remained unsuccessful.

His mind has been going in circles about you.

It’s not like he didn’t know that Riya has four sisters. But he knew the one sister who he had never had the opportunity to meet with, as Mita. To add to that, he had never seen a single picture that you were a part of.

The name Mita is still explainable. Maybe that’s a nickname given to you by your family. But what makes Jungkook feel doubtful is your reason for absence. Common knowledge was you were abroad studying and doing research work. You were busy and never got the time to pay a visit.

But Jungkook doubts that someone going abroad would leave their home the way you did; climbing over a wall. And for some reason, he is sure that, that was the day you left because you are only back now. Had you visited before, Jungkook is sure that he would have known.

 However, now your presence that day made sense to him. You were the bride’s sister.

Bride’s sister climbs over the wall and takes a cab to the airport on the day of the wedding. In no world does that sound normal.

Jungkook turns around, pulls the blanket up to his chest, stares at the wall and sighs.

This whole thinking and trying to figure out why he did not know you were Riya’s sister, any sooner is only an attempt to cover up and ignore the fact that he is worried.

But can he really be blamed? How can he not be worried?

Dropping off your fiancé’s friend to a place is one thing and dropping off your fiancé’s sister to a place totally unknown to him is one thing.

Are you eating alright? Are the services there good? Is the place clean?

Jungkook sighs again.                                                         

Fuck this.

He removes the blanket, puts on a shirt and grabs his car keys.

He needs to know for sure that the place you are staying at is good and safe. Maybe then, he will be able to sleep peacefully.

HAPPY GUEST HOUSE.

The signboard reads. Except, the ‘A’ and ‘O’ are missing and the signboard is crooked.

It isn’t just the signboard though. It is also the overall isolated aura this place has, that makes Jungkook wish he had checked the place you were staying at while dropping off.

Still, he checks the address on his phone one last time, hoping that he has got the wrong place and that you are not actually staying here. The address on his screen, however, remains unchanged, confirming that this indeed is the place.

With a sigh, he walks in through the gate. Ain’t no way he is letting you stay here any longer.

“Miss Y/N,” he gives your name to the guy at the reception, who looks barely awake.

The guy looks at Jungkook and takes out a register.

Register? A DAMN REGISTER?!!!! Who even uses a register these days? This place does not even have a computer!!!!

“Room 112,” the receptionist guy informs, after flipping through some pages.

Jungkook keeps standing there. However, when the receptionist just goes to sit on a chair and yawns, Jungkook loses it. “What do you mean by room 112? An unknown man is asking you for a woman’s room number and you just give it? Don’t even ask how I am related to her, don’t even care that I might just go up to her room right now. What on earth is wrong with you?”

The guy is the least bit bothered. “Do you want to meet her or not?”

Oh, fuck it. Arguing with the guy is useless.

Without another word, he climbs the flight of stairs to find room number 112. Thankfully, it hardly takes him only a minute or so to find your room.

He raises his fist and knocks on the door. However, after the very first knock, he realizes that the door is unlocked.

Gently pushing the door open, he turns on his mobile’s flashlight and calls your name. “Y/N?”

No response.

“Y/N, it is Jungkook.”

No response.

“Y/N, if you are here-“

Then he spots you. You’re sleeping on the floor, all curled up from the cold.

“Y/N?” he kneels down and gently shakes you by your arms, to wake you up. “Y/N? Please wake up.”

“Mm?” You make a small noise at the back of your throat, and slowly, very slowly open your eyes.

“Get up and pack your bags.”

You’re still not fully awake and it takes you a moment to process what he is saying. “Why?”

“You’re coming home with me.”

“Idiot, what kind of a place did you take my guest to?” At some point, Jungkook just could not take it anymore and ended up calling Stuart, to give him an earful. “Forget about good services, there is no security!”

“Sir, I am sure they let you in because you look like someone from a good family,” comes Stuart’s reply, from the other side.

Jungkook scoffs, finding so many flaws in that logic. “Do you have any idea the amount of mosquitoes that are there in this place? What if she had caught dengue?”

“Sir, don’t worry, the dengue mosquitoes don’t bite at night.”

“Oh yes, malaria is so much of a better option,” Jungkook replies sarcastically and cuts the call.

“Mosquitoes don’t bite me,” you offer in a soft voice.

“I am sorry, Y/N. Had I known this was the place, I would have never let you stay here,” Jungkook apologizes for the umpteenth time.

You offer him a small smile and shake your head. “Don’t worry, it’s fine.”

You both walk to his car and get in. Once inside, Jungkook offers if you’d like to listen to some music, which you politely decline.

“Did you have dinner?” He asks, wondering if he should make a pit stop on his way to a food outlet.

You reply with a small nod of your head, letting him know that there is no need for that.

As the car gets moving, you sigh and relax in the passenger seat. The roads are empty, which is to be expected considering it’s well past midnight. A result of which, is the cool breeze that hits your face, something that you admittedly find really enjoyable.

You see the roads passing by and it suddenly occurs to you that you are out in your hometown after a really long time–seven years to be exact. The roads feel the same except for the fact that they are entirely different.

The place reminds you of the days when you were younger and–

You take a deep inhale, trying to distract your thoughts from going in that direction.

In the last couple of days, you have surely been out of that little dingy place that runs under the name of a hotel but you were never out like this. Maybe that is why thoughts and feelings you have wanted to avoid and bury, are trying to say their ‘hello’s to you.

“Actually,” you begin in a soft mumble, “some music would be nice.”

“Sure,” Jungkook turns on the radio and soon a soft melody fills the air.

Thankfully, the music does serve as a sweet distraction as you refuse to focus on anything but counting the rhythmic drum beats, blocking any other thoughts and feelings in the process.

Unbeknownst to you, at some point your eyes start feeling heavy and you start dozing off. You would never admit it out loud, not even to yourself, but you hadn’t been getting good sleep the past few days. And for some reason, the car seats seem really comfortable to you.

What wakes you up after what could possibly have been ages, is a soft call of your name. You slowly open your eyes and with a blurry vision register that Jungkook is speaking to you.

“We are here,” the words reach your ears and you let out a small hum.

With steps like that of a drunk man–or mayhaps that of a toddler–you blindly follow Jungkook into the building. If someone were to ask you what floor the elevator stopped at, you wouldn’t be able to tell.

When you both enter the apartment, you hardly take your environment into consideration and speak rather loudly; “Can I have–“

A hand abruptly clamps down on your mouth and causes the rest of your words to come out muffled. The next thing you know, you are being dragged into a different room.

The sudden movements are enough to clear your drowsiness and you’re back in your full senses.

“Shhh,” Jungkook for the first time tonight, looks annoyed. “People are sleeping. You will wake them up.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, realising your mistake. “I just need a wet towel.”

Jungkook nods, about to get you what you just asked for but then pauses to look at you. “Wet towel? A dry won’t work? Just soak it in water.”

“That will work too.”

He nods again and opens a cupboard to fetch a towel. “By the way, what will you do with a wet towel?”

“Placing a wet towel on your stomach kills hunger.”

Jungkook is perplexed at your words and the annoyed frown on his face, melts into that of disbelief. “I asked you whether you had dinner or not.”

“This is the only place that is open at this time.” These are the words that Jungkook introduces the small street-side restaurant, with. “One thing I can assure you is, the food doesn’t disappoint.”

You give a small shy nod, feeling guilty for letting it slip that you indeed did not have dinner. In your defense, you really did not think it was necessary to meet the needs of your empty stomach. The other two nights, the wet towel technique worked just fine.

“I’d have survived the night you know,” you offer lightly as a joke but actually meaning it.

“I know you would have,” Jungkook offers and for some reason, the reply shuts you up.

As you both occupy the seats of a two-seater table, you realise that the entire place is empty except for a young couple occupying one of the corner seats.

“Butter chicken and chicken chow mein are the only two food items available at this time,” the waiter informs, looking like he is ready to retire for the day.

“Two half chicken chow mein,” you decide.

“I won’t eat—,” Jungkook is cut off by your feet harshly slamming on his, under the table.

“Two half chow mein,” you confirm. Once the waiter is gone you lean forward and whisper, “Two halves are always more than one full.”

Jungkook’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and he nods in understanding, admittedly impressed by your little tips and tricks.

The time it takes for you to finish the two half plates of chowmein is embarrassingly short. It briefly makes Jungkook wonder whether you had anything to eat yesterday—as a matter of fact, the day before yesterday—but he decides not to dwell on it. He makes peace with the fact that you will go to bed today with a full stomach.

Once you’re done, you release a sigh, almost having forgotten to breathe in the process. Sometimes, you don’t realise how hungry you actually were unless you have filled your stomach to the brim.

“Thank you.” You speak, genuinely grateful for everything that Jungkook has done for you.  

“You’re welcome,” he replies. “Next time, just be honest if you’re hungry.”

The words cause you to let out a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Once the bills are paid, and you have had your fair share of collecting the sugar coated fennel seeds in a napkin, the both of you find yourselves back inside the car for a third time tonight.

This time, there is no music and you don’t feel a need for a distraction either.

Your mind is rather occupied with the events of today and what it means for your tomorrow.

You didn’t think things would take a turn like this but admittedly it makes it easier for you to accomplish what you came for. The only thing you perhaps feel guilty for, is causing Jungkook trouble. Heck, you are not even sure whether Riya knows that Jungkook has offered for you to stay in his place.

Actually, you know. There’s no way Riya knows about it. Had she known, you wouldn’t have been sitting here.

The thought makes you briefly look at Jungkook and you suddenly find yourself feeling sorry for all the trouble you’re undoubtedly going to cause between him and Riya. But more than the guilt, you feel grateful for his kindness.

Jungkook seems to have a very genuine, welcoming aura. Despite everything he has done for you, you have not felt as if he is doing a favour on you. He seems like the kind of person who would tell you on your face, if he was annoyed or if you were being too much. That saves you from the guessing game.

Maybe if you were not in so much of a rush to leave, you and Jungkook would have made good friends.

When you leave, you should probably leave a thank you gift for him, as a token of your appreciation.

Your train of thought is broken by the sound of a hiccup.

“I am–,” a hiccup, “–sorry.” Jungkook apologises, feeling a little shy.

“It’s okay.” You make a mental note to offer him a bottle of water at the next signal.

However, after the fifth hiccup, a soft mumble of the word Riya reaches your ears and you soon realise it is repetitive in between each hiccup.

“What are you doing?” You ask, confused.

Jungkook glances at you from the corner of his eyes. “It is said you get hiccups when someone is thinking of you and who else could be thinking of me, but Riya? So, I am taking her name in hopes that the hiccups go away.”

“In that case you should definitely take my name,” you suggest. “From the moment that I have sat in the car, I have been thinking of you.”

Jungkook looks at you once again, momentarily caught off guard by your honesty but then decides to take up on your suggestion.

“Y/N.”

Hiccup.

“Y/N.”

Hiccup.

“Y/N.”

Hiccup.

You tsk and shake your head. “You see, a hiccup is essentially an involuntary spasm of the diaphragm which causes sudden closure of the epiglottis which creates the ‘hic’ sound.”

“And the remedy for that is to just let it be, but if it lasts too long, take medicines like maloperidol, nanoclopramide and florpromazine, which isn’t in the car–” your chew on your nails briefly, recalling other solutions, “–there is another way....it is called the swimmer’s remedy.”

You press the tip of your little fingers against your nostrils, blocking the free passage of air. Simultaneously, you widen your eyes, stick out your tongue and exhale loudly.

“But you can’t do that either, because you’re driving,” you murmur, more so to yourself.

Well, minus the hand placement and the tongue, Jungkook’s eyes are fairly as wide as yours were.

“And the third way is–”, you sneak a glance at Jungkook to ensure that his eyes are focused on the road. Out of nowhere, your hands take a hold of the steering and you swiftly turn it in the other direction causing the car to take a sudden turn.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? ARE YOU INSANE?!”

You release your grip and look at him, mildly apologetic. “The third method is shock.”

Jungkook looks confused, the suddenness of your movements still having its effect on him. However, after a few moments of silence, Jungkook puts a hand on his stomach and realizes that the hiccups are indeed gone!

The realisation causes him to chuckle. “Are you a doctor?”

“Nope,” you reply, shaking your head, glad that you could be of help. A few beats later, you speak again. “By the way, do you remember we met seven years ago? T20 cricket?”

The turn of Jungkook’s head towards you is a slow one and he wonders if you really did say that.

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[wutheringcaterpillar]

I’ll Always Be Your Boy

Summary: Tommy reminisced back to his lost love, his first and only love. It had been years since he’s seen you, and one night when he pulls into your driveway, it all becomes too much for far too long. He needed to be reunited with you, even if the cost was his life.

Warnings: Suicide, drug addiction (opium), trauma, flashbacks, mentions of death, mention of tommy’s mom, mention of miscarriage

Partially inspired by the song below, be prepared with tissues y’all🥹

The brisk midnight air rolled in through the foggy car window as he pulled into the rocky driveway, still trying to figure out what the fuck he was doing here. Tommy hadn’t seen you in years but yet you still crossed his mind, he still worried about you even though he had taken the most vulnerable part of you and shattered it into a million tiny pieces. Now here he was staring at the damaged, once white house that he once promised to fix up before the argument. The wooden fencing now fading, the deteriorating paint now detailing the uncut grass, green vines covering the width.

Pulling out his cigarettes, he brushed the unflamed end over his plush, chilled lips.

The trees bristled, whistling and bellowing through the atmosphere, scattering leaves around the yard.

Tommy thought back to a a particular afternoon, reminiscing the way you laughed when he tripped and fell into a mud puddle, the way you smiled brightly whenever he would partake in hobbies you enjoyed such as creating masterful works of art out of chalk on the stoned sidewalk. 

You were graceful, mesmerizing everything Tommy could’ve asked for in a woman, most of all you cared for him. Making him soup when he was feeling ill, running a warm bath to a temperature of his liking, knowing how to calm him from an angry fit or a stressful day. 

God did he miss you, he’d do anything for the chance to take it all back, to treat you kindly and cherish you, give you anything your little ecstatic heart desired, but he fucked it up and he blamed himself every second of every passing day.

He wished and prayed that you knew there was no moving on, you held his heart and he was still that boy you fell in love with all that time ago.

A day hadn’t passed where he didn’t think of you but times were becoming tough. The business was failing, any woman that approached him, he simply ignored, only wanting you back.

Stepping out of the car, he approached the house ignoring the silhouettes of storm clouds rolling in accompanied by a deep, rumbling thunder. 

Scanning the rooms, he stopped near the kitchen doorway, glancing at the stove where he had partaken in baking sweets with you. He didn’t like desserts himself but what you made you happy made him happy, and he’d always at least taste whatever you made. He would try to help, to assist in rolling dough, gathering ingredients and putting trays in the oven but you always shoved him playfully away after burning a batch of baked goods, putting him instead on the job of decorating. 

Smiling softly, he carried on, stopping every now and then as he walked down the crooked, abandoned hallway, glancing at the dusty photos that still stay portrayed on the walls.

A photo of your first date in a milkshake shack, splitting a chocolate shake while giggling with one another, this was just moments before you had convinced him to go rollerblading and he can still say to this day, that was the most fun he’s ever had, for some reason it made him feel alive.

As he carried on scanning the house, he’d heard objects moving while the abandoned floor boards creaked. He could see the shapes of shadows in the distance but he didn’t feel scared or endangered. Perhaps it was you.

“It’s just me love, nothing to be afraid of.” He wished he could see you, he had missed you tremendously but still blamed himself for your death. He should’ve been there, he could’ve stopped it, and now he was reaping the consequences with a broken heart.

When he approached his final destination, he was greeted with a hole in the rickety old door, flashing back to the time where you’d had your first and last fight over what now seemed to be a pointless event, an event he regretted. If he had knew that would be the last time he saw you, the final thing he’d said to you, the frigid, cold words would’ve never escaped his lips, and he knew very well that the argument was a misunderstanding.

Dragging his feet over to the bed, he removed a bottle of opium from his jacket. That was the only thing getting him through this. He had tried to off himself multiple times, just wanting to see you once more, they even had to confine him in the draft which was nearly unheard of.

Pulling out a needle, he punctured his arm after increasing the dose. Almost instantly he could feel his thoughts slowing, a euphoric rush running through his veins causing him to feel tired and lay down on the abandoned bed. The awful fight replaying in his mind.

Bursting through the door, you jumped in the sitting position of your bed, the book in your lap tumbling down onto the floor from being startled. 

Tommy stood in the doorway, bottle of whiskey in hand with drenched, disheveled hair from the pouring rain.

“Where have you been? I needed you, and you weren’t there!” Tears brimmed at your eye lids seeing him in this state, knowing that you should’ve been there but you couldn’t. 

Standing up while the tears streamed like a river down your heated cheeks, you closed the door and turned to Tommy.

His angelic blue eyes had a clear perception of pain, himself also crying. Tommy never asked you for anything, not once.

“Y’know not everything is about you, maybe if you stopped and looked around every once in awhile you’d realize that but I guess it was stupid on my part to believe you ever truly loved me. You are just a selfish girl, and I can’t believe that for a moment I thought you gave a shit about me.” You tugged at his arm, begging and pleading for him to hear your side of the story as to why you weren’t present at his mother’s funeral but he wouldn’t listen. Hearing your excuses only fueled the anger and extreme upset inside of him but he didn’t know you were dealing with a loss of your own.

“Listen to me, please! I love you Tommy I do, you just don’t understand I-“

“No, no don’t do that. You don’t get to do that I have a crystal clear understanding that I can’t be with someone who doesn’t and never has given a shit about me. Enjoy your life Y/N, because I’m not sure if I want to be in it anymore if all it’s going to be is excuses. I really thought you were different, but you’re just like any other useless whore.” Slamming his fist through the door in aggravation and immense upset, the sound echoed through the house. His words stung like a bee, a sharp and direct hit to your heart.

The following morning Tommy woke from a deep slumber, arm reaching for you only to realize you weren’t there, half of the bed was empty.

He had regretted those things he said, he should have heard you out but all of his withheld emotions came crashing down on him like a hurricane. 

Getting up and dressed, he decided the best way to apologize was to go and retrieve your favorite flowers and take you out on the town. He could be such an ass sometimes but he was still learning. 

Heading to the kitchen Pol was shocked to see him out of bed, bright eyes and bushie tailed, dressed to the tens.

“I’m surprised you’re up so early given the events of last night. If you need anything don’t be frightened to reach out Thomas, we all need a little help sometimes. Sweet girl she was.” 

“Who are you talking about? If it was that Lee girl I’m not surprised, bat shit crazy she was.” Tommy poured himself a cup of tea, adding only cream before reaching for the paper and sitting at the kitchen table.

“No one told you?” Tommy looked at his aunt confused while taking a sip of his tea. Pol relaxed her tone knowing full well this would break her nephew’s heart. With sympathetic eyes, she settled her hand atop of his.

“There was a fire last night. Y/N didn’t make it.” Tommy froze, this couldn’t possibly be true. Pol could see the panic and disbelief in Tommy’s baby blue eyes. When she tried to walk over and console him, he bolted for the door needing to see for himself.

In a fiery fit of anger and sadness he sped over to your house, seeing the damage that has been done. In that moment his heart shattered into a million pieces and he punched the steering wheel repeatedly.

“Fuck!” The thick walls of his mind were closing. If he had controlled his temper, he would’ve been there, he would’ve been able to pull you out of the fire and save the most important piece of his heart. Why you? Why not him? He had nothing to live for without you. He never even got the chance to apologize.

The only thing that seemed to be intact was your car parked in the grass near the mailbox. Stumbling out of his car, he needed to know, know what it was you weren’t telling him that day. What it was he didn’t even give you a chance to say.

Rummaging through clothes, and misplaced papers and pens, he opened the glove box only to find something that changed everything the day of his mother’s funeral.

Pulling out the small piece of paper, his hands trembled as he stared down at the ultrasound of what would have been your bundle of joy. 

All of your emotions from that day seemed to seep into his mind. You must’ve been so scared, felt so alone. Why didn’t you tell him?

Flipping the paper over he noticed writing.

TIME OF DEATH: 11:25 am.

11/20/1913 

10 weeks old.

You had miscarried just two hours before the funeral and he was too busy shouting out you to know. The tears sprang freely, his heart aching as he wept in the passenger seat feeling the world crashing down him, accompanied by the profound loss of someone he loved.

As the opium kicked in, he lay his dreary, spinning head onto the singed pillow, clenching his fists in what was left of your crisp sheets.

His eyes became heavy, limbs weak while his head span in a euphoric frenzy. Your face flashed through his mind, memories and moments shared together. 

The sun was rising through the window peering in through the burnt curtains as Tommy’s vision became blurry and he could see sparkling orbs forming aside him a figure kneeling on the floor with what looked to be a child.

“Come daddy, mommy’s waiting.” The young girl’s voice was subtle, calming. She lay her delicate small hand on her father’s.

Through his clouded perception he could see she had his bright blue eyes and your facial features. She was beautiful just like her mother.

Beads of sweat formed upon his temple, the rush taking over his body bringing a sense of tranquility. Just before he stopped breathing, your voice spoke melodically through his head, bringing a sense of comfort.

“I’m here now. You can let go. We’ve been waiting for you.” He had never felt more at ease then he did now, drifting off into unconsciousness, awaiting his sweet descent into his lover’s arms being reunited as a family, forever content.

[ratlikeclown]

WIP Wolverine x femReader 18+

“God, do you ever suck on anything other than Wade’s dick and cheap cigars?”

He leaned in close to your ear and growled,

“Ya lookin to find out Princess?”

x Deadpool kinda eventually lmfaoooo

FemY/n is mid 20’s - early 30’s

Tw for depression and like drug use mentions ig

🌶️🫵

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello 👋 This is the first fanfic that I have written in over 10 years the brain rot is so unbelievably real for wolverine and deadpool rn

its a little embarrassing tbh lmfaoo

—————————

I’m not really sure how to tag this tbh. I’ve never posted on tumblr. . It’s a little spicy and will get more interesting later. I just wanted to toss this small part out for readers to test the waters. Anyway um I’m not experienced writing y/n pov so please be nice.

Your friend, Wade Wilson, couldn’t take no for an answer. You knew that and yet you still had the audacity to tell him ‘no’ three times tonight. And about thirty minutes after you ignored his last phone call there he was, practically knocking down your door. It wasn’t like he couldn’t actually kick in your door, he was just being polite. 

The apartment buzzer went off. You sat up from your position on the couch, hoping he’d just give up and leave if you didn’t acknowledge him. Like a stray cat. Or a crackhead.

“Knock knock~” you heard his voice through the door. “I smell Hot Pockets and sadness I know you’re in there”

Gripping the arm of the sofa you waited hoping he’d have the common courtesy fuck off .You heard the door knob rattle. Dumbass.

With a click of the lock, your door swung open revealing Wade, grinning as he shoved his Baby Knife back into his coat.

“Wade, what the fuck? I told you-“

He clapped his hands loudly, interrupting you.

 “Let’s go Funshine Bear, the nights young and I’m not going anywhere without you” Wade marched past you, straight to your bedroom humming to himself.

“You look awful by the way, we’ll fix you up though.” He clicked his tongue and crooked a finger in your direction. You huffed angrily, sliding off the couch to follow him. 

You stopped in the doorway, almost refusing to step inside. He was elbows deep in your closet drawers, throwing clothes onto your bed, muttering his disapproval at every item he tossed.

You crossed your arms as you watched him. 

“Do you have anything that doesn’t look like you took it from the Walmart dumpster?” He pulled a drawer out from the dresser and dumped it on the floor. “You know the one I’m talking about, right? Where all the coke addicted bronies go to have a bone sess before band practice.”

You crossed your arms as you watched him. “Wade, I’m not in the mood to go out.”

You heard him sigh, but continued to riffle through your things. 

“That’s nonsense, the plot can’t continue with out you. Annnd we made these plans last week.”

He peeked at you from behind the open closet door. “I’m a little worried about you. You aren’t your chipper self lately”

“I’m just tired” You replied dismissively.

It wasn’t like Wade hasn’t been trying to cheer you up in his own way. For the last few weeks he’d text you obscure and quite frankly disturbing memes at 3 AM. Excitedly offer you drugs that he’s pilfered from the his blind roommate- (he knows you don’t do drugs, he just wanted to brag about stealing coke from Blind Al)

He’s also been sending you the strangest X-Men fan fiction. (His favorites were ‘old man yaoi’ including Professor Xavier and Magneto) Usually you eat that kind of stuff up, finding it funny that you knew some of the people that the fanfiction was written about, like a private joke between you and Deadpool. But worst thing he’s done has beencalling you almost every day and attempting to make plans with you, but you always seem to cancel last minute. So yeah, he has been trying. It just.. didn’t help.

Your eyes flickered to your wall of photos next to the closet door.  Pictures of your closest friends and family. Their arms around you laughing, smiling. Pictures of trips and silly outings that meant the world to you. You felt so much guilt and regret looking at them.

Depression was a bitch. It was like a rabid dog that wouldn’t let you get back on your feet. You felt it gnawing at you, causing you to lose interest in everyone and everything. You felt alone. Your eyes fell back to Wade, you watched your friend hard at work trying to match your shoes with a dress he had found. He was clueless. You couldn’t tell him any of this though, it would just make him worry more.

There was someone you did want to talk to though. To tell everything to. Someone that you had grown so close to the last few months.

You missed Logan.

This realization caused your face to heat and anxiety weld up in your chest. You balled your hands into fits thinking about that arrogant jerk. You’ve tried to be a friend to Wolverine. After all this wasn’t his reality. He was your timeline’s replacement. (Idk you should go watch the movie. I’m not explaining it.) and for a while, you thought you were friends.

Lately, if he wasn’t drunk and depressingly moody, he was angry and a massive dick. 

“Y/N? Look a little pink at the cheeks are you feeling OK?” Wade was now standing less than a foot from you, his brows furrowed. You hadn’t noticed him move.

Snapping back from your thoughts by Wades voice, you ran hands over your face as you turn towards the attached bathroom.

“Dude, I told you I’m just not feeling good-” You stepped into the bathroom and turned on the faucet “I don’t wanna hang out with-“

“Logan?”

“Your friends.” You finished. You felt your face flush deeper at his name being mentioned.

“That’s what I said” Wade followed you to the bathroom, but thankfully didn’t come in. He stood outside while you closed the door. 

“Trust me honey, I know he’s the embodiment of a sentient happiness starved cactus whose father never loved him but-“

You groaned, trying to avoid Wades ramblings you turned the water on full blast, drowning out the remainder of his sentence. You splashed water on your face and ran a comb through your hair. You heard Wade continue talking, almost to himself while also sounding like he was talking to someone else in the room  as well. Someone you couldn’t see. He did that often. It was creepy.

You swung the door open frowning.

“-sometimes he stabs me through the face to shut me up, but I know he does it because he’s not good with words.”

Wade smile faded when he saw your face. 

“It’s kinda hot”

“I don’t want to talk about it Wade.” You sat down onto your bed with a huff despite the pile of clothes and plastic hangers. You stared at your hands. You felt the overwhelming weight of your anxiety in your chest and stomach. Maybe you should go out. Maybe he won’t show up tonight. Maybe-

“You look like you wanna talk about it Friendo.”

Wade joined you by dramatically pushing all the clothes off the bed, making an even bigger mess of your room. He flopped down onto your bed stomach first, propping himself up by his elbows. He kicked his feet and smiled at you.

“I’m all ears.”

“I don’t know how to start” You admitted.

“Start with an ‘I feel’ statement” 

Another sigh escaped your mouth. How did you feel? It felt complicated. You met him a few months ago. At first he was rude and closed off. Then he slowly began to open up, sure you still bickered and fought like cats, but it had playful undertones. (‘Sexy undertones’ Wade had joked) When he was being genuine and open, it felt like you could talk to him for hours. Though he never spoke for too long, he would to listen to you earnestly. Up until a few weeks ago, that is.

“I feel like Logan hates me. I feel like he would rather huff paint thinner than have a decent conversation with me.”

Wade laughed. “Well that’s not true, I can’t get him to huff anything.”

You shot him a look.

“Listen, I invite Mr. Grumpy out every time. But he’s too busy sulking to get fucked up with us. He would rather get drunk and pass out in the floor of the apartment. He probably won’t even show up.” Wade gave you a reassuring look.

“If he does you’re gonna be there with me. We’ll leave if you feel uncomfortable at all.”

He rolled over and sat up, putting an arm around you.

“I’ve just noticed your mood lately I need you to know that I love you.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze.  “-and I miss getting fucked up with you.”

“Will you stab him for me if he’s mean?”

“Of course. I always have Baby Knife on me.”

“Fine. Let me get ready”

He jumped off the bed excitedly.

You pushed Wade out the door to get dressed, pausing in the doorway. “Wade?”

“Yes Friendo?” He turned on his heel

“I love you too bud”

He squealed as you closed the door.

~~~

You never understood why Wade wouldn’t just buy a car. He makes decent money (he doesn’t) and could probably afford a nice one. (He couldn’t) At one point you recall him having a weird hyperfixation with the Honda Odyssey (he fucked Wolverine in one) (allegedly)

Instead, you were climbing into the back of a dirty beat up taxi cab that his friend, Dopinder, drove for a living. At least you didn’t have to walk. Dopinder was a sweet guy, if not a little unhinged every once in a while. 

“You look quite beautiful tonight Miss Y/N” He complimented you as you settled in the back seat. You smiled at him, appreciating the comment. Wade had picked out your dress and you felt a little exposed and out of your element in it. It wasn’t anything crazy, just a slick black dress with a low neck line. The dress was short, ending a little above the knee. The problem was the slit up the side. You wanted to wear tights under the outfit but Wade insisted on fishnets. ‘You look like a goth baddie’  he had assured you, ‘Like a Hot Topic clearance rack version of Morticia Addams.’

Wade hopped in the front and immediately started to flip through the radio channels. Dopinder usually had on pleasant sounding Indian pop music but Wade settled on some heavily censored 90’s hip hop. 

The drive was rocky. Wade, who almost never kept his hands to himself, would grab poor  Dopinder while dancing along to the music causing the cab to swerve. A lot.

Having made it to the bar in one piece, you quickly scrambled out of the back, thanking the young man for the ride. 

Wade waited for you at the door.

~~~

The bar was loud and dark. One of those typical bars you see in movies, filled with moving bodies and cigarette smoke. Music pumped through the speakers with some people lingering near the bar while others swayed on the dance floor. Wade bounced through the crowd pulling you along towards the bar, where his group of friends took up half the bar area. You scanned the crowd nervously. No Logan. Your muscles relaxed, and you moved with a little more energy.

Wade greeted his friends with various enthusiastic greetings and crude gestures. You smiled in greeting and waved at a friend you recognized but sat down on a stool next to where Wade stood, him blocking you from most of the other bar patrons. There was a part of you that was a little disappointed that Logan wasn’t here. It made sense if he didn’t show up here, this bar was honestly more like a club, upbeat and energetic. He’s used to dark depressing dive bars, places you can drink yourself into a coma and not be bothered. But the few times he had shown up here you had thought that he enjoyed your company, for a little while at least. During times when the others were off doing dubious shit somewhere, he’d sit with you at the bar. You even managed to get him to dance with you once. That all changed recently. Something happened that caused him to be distant and often rude for seemingly no reason.

Everyone seems to be so happy to see Wade and he, them. You didn’t really know why you were here. It already felt overwhelming. You used to love coming here. Drinking and dancing, playing pool badly and belting out shitty country music karaoke with everyone. Lately, things have felt different. You’ve lost interest in a lot of the things you use to enjoy, spending your days just working and rotting in your apartment. This was too much.

Wade touched your shoulder causing you to jump.

“Hey we’re off to play some darts you in?” 

You smiled at your friend. “You really wouldn’t want me to play, you’d end up as the dart board.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time Sweetheart” Wade laughed, “we’ll be over there if you change your mind.” He made a heart with his hands and turned toward the group already making their way to the play area.

You sat quietly at the counter with a glass of something sweet and strong. You wanted to feel a buzz but you needed it to taste good. Your eyes scanned the crowd, people watching. You watched people dance and sway to the newest Kesha song blaring through the speakers. You witnessed a near fight over a pool game. You heard Wade’s laughter from across the room, his friends echoing along. You felt alone. It was your fault you told yourself. If you wanted to feel better you would’ve gotten up and joined your friends. But here you sat, being miserable on purpose. 

“Hey beautiful, mind if I joined you?” Your head snapped up meeting the face of someone you didn’t recognize. He was good looking, in a vanilla frat boy kinda way. With his backwards hat, sleeveless tank, skinny jeans and all.

But he smiled like a wolf.

“I’m sorry.” You tried to smile politely, but you had a twinge of anxiety growing in your chest. “I’m not really in the mood for company” 

The man smiled motioning to the bartender for a drink. “Can’t I just buy you a drink? “

“Really, I’m fine” You turned back to your drink, your eyes unfocused, hoping that if you just ignored him he’d leave. Your gut flipped when you heard him pull out the stool next to you. He wasn’t leaving.

“Come on babe, I can show you a good time”

“She said she ain’t looking for company bub.” A low voice growled behind you. A beer bottle came down heavily in between you and the creep. Your eyes trailed the hairy but beautifully sculpted arm to its owner, though you already knew who it belonged to. Logan. Even in this lighting you could see his rugged face. His hair was styled in its iconic cat ear shape. His beard was trimmed nicely combined with his thick muttonchops. His eyes were a little hazy but beautiful and dark. You met those eyes for a brief moment, he smirked at you before his gaze flickered to the other man.

 “Well?” He rumbled, barring his teeth.

“Naw, I was here first grandpa, you fuck off.” The frat guy stood up straight, trying to look intimidating.

“Trust me” Logan chuckled. He straightened cracking his knuckles before raising his fists and extending three razor sharp Adamantium claws from each hand.

“You don’t want none of this”

~~~

“You didn’t have to do that” you looked down at your glass avoiding Logan’s gaze. You heard him land heavily in the bar stool next to you. He tapped the counter signaling the bartender who was very clearly avoiding your side of the bar.

“I wasn’t going to have some limp dick creeping on you.”

“I was handling it” 

“You didn’t seem like you were handling anything Princess.” He scoffed.

You shot him a look. He smirked as he chugged his remaining beer, you couldn’t help watch his throat bob as he drank. He finished and loudly set the bottle down. He met your eyes and you looked away feeling your face heat violently.

“You thirsty princess?” He asked as the bartender set down two shots of something before scurrying away. He slid one glass your way.

“No thank you. I have my own drink”

You pushed the glass back his way. He eyed your almost empty cocktail and shrugged.

“Suit yourself” he took the glasses and knocked back both shots simultaneously slamming the glasses back down. After a few moments of silence, where you clearly felt Logan eyeing you the entire time, you sighed.

“I didn’t think I’d see you tonight Logan.” You admitted. Another beer had appeared in front of him, he took a swig. He eyed you, his eyes slowly trailing from your face down your body. They rested at the slit in your dress, exposing most of your fishnet covered thigh. You felt a ping in your lower belly, causing you to cross your legs uncomfortably. His eyes followed to movement. He licked his lips and met your eyes again smirking.

“Why didja miss me?”

You looked down at the growing piles of shredded napkins you had been anxiously ripping apart. 

“Yes” you said at last. There was no point in lying. You did miss him. Even seeing him now, clearly drinking away his problems, you couldn’t help but feel glad he was there with you. You were glad he scared away that creep, despite his now passive aggressive demeanor. You met his eyes again.

He snorted and tipped the beer to his lips.“You’re a fucking liar”

You felt your gut squeeze with anger. Why was he treating you this way? You didn’t ask him to step in to a play hero. You didn’t ask him for anything. You just wanted to get out of your shitty apartment for one goddamn night. You balled your fists and spun to face him fully.

“What. The. Fuck.” You clenched your teeth annunciating each word bitterly. “Is. YOUR PROBLEM”

“My PROBLEM,” he practically spat the word,

”is that I have to deal with your moody ass attracting the eye of every fucking creep in this place when you very fucking clearly don’t want to be here.” 

You threw your hands up angrily and gestured around the bar. 

“I didn’t want to deal with any of this Logan. I just wanted to go out with my FRIENDS, which I used to think you were one. I don’t fucking know what prick you had up your ass lately, but you sure as hell don’t act like you like me. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

He was silent for a moment, studying your face, making it turn even redder. Then he laughed. He shook his head laughing and sloppily chugged his second beer.

You had enough. You needed to get away from him. You shoved yourself back, tipping the stool over in the process.

“Come find me when you figure out what you want.” You turned to leave. You made it a few steps before you heard Logan’s voice call mockingly.

“Nice dress by the way” 

You didn’t turn to look at him.

“Fuck you, Logan”

~~~

You ran your hands under cold water, leaning over the sink you splashed the water into your face and sighed. You looked into your mirrored face. This was a disaster.

Maybe if you just stayed in the bathroom you can avoid everyone until Wade was ready to leave. You felt bad that you ran off instead of finding him. You would’ve felt safe with Wade.

Your head was swimming, from the alcohol or the interaction with Logan you couldn’t tell.

The speaker above you crackled playing the opening notes to ‘Dirty Diana’, a favorite of yours. A banger Wade would say.

Without warning the door sung open and Logan stumbled in. 

“You’re in the wrong bathroom you drunk asshole” you snapped. His eyes met yours from a brief moment before he swayed slightly and took a step forward.

He pushed past you wordlessly and began kicking open the bathroom stalls. They were all empty. 

“Dude get out” You gripped the sink behind you, watching Logan warily. You knew deep down he wouldn’t hurt you but you obviously didn’t want him in here with you. He turned to you, taking a step forward.

”I needed to talk to you”

“Yeah, you could have waited til I got out of the ladies room??” 

“No.” he growled before in one swift movement he was in front of you, his arms on either side of the sink trapping you between them. Your breath came out in a shudder and your knees wobbled. This honestly was a thing out of a fantasy, something that you were embarrassed to admit you’ve thought about. You had been fighting your feelings for this big stupid man, stuck between thoughts of friendship and lust. God, he wasn’t helping with the latter.

“Logan”

“I’m sorry” he said looking as remorseful as he could under the circumstances.

“What did you need to talk about that couldn’t wait Lo?” You swallowed, gently lifting your hand and placing it on his chest, pushing lightly. His hands moved to your legs keeping you from pushing him further.

“Ya told me to find you when I figured out what I wanted”

“Yeah” You scoffed. “Enlighten me”

~~~

“I want you”

Logan leaned over you, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. His fingers dug in lightly, the movement making your legs feel like jelly. You gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. He was so firm and warm under your hands.

His face was inches from yours, his expression unreadable in the low lighting. You smelled the smoke and alcohol on his breath.

“God, do you ever suck on anything other than Wade’s dick and cheap cigars?”

He leaned in close to your ear and growled, 

“Ya looking to find out princess?”

You felt a ping of desire sink into your lower belly as his hand moved from your waist.

Shivers went down your spine as his hands slid up your torso coming to a stop right below your breasts. One of his thumbs brushed upwards lightly, teasingly.

You sucked in a breath as he lowered his face to your neck and brushed a kiss to the sensitive skin. His facial hair tickling your jaw.

“Logan, you’re drunk.” You croaked out, pulling away slightly, your hands sliding from his shoulders. He moved with you.

You felt his lips brush your skin again, another kiss, before his thumb slid upward against your breast. Fuck. The wet heat between your legs was unbearable. You needed some sort of friction. You definitely noticed the pressure from his pants pressed against your stomach. So close, you just needed anything. You bucked your hips against his, almost involuntarily, causing a rumble to escape his throat. His thumb stroked again.

“That’s a good girl” His head bobbed lower dragging his tongue down as he kissed your neck. You could feel him smile as he sucked the skin of your collar bone in a way that would definitely leave a mark. Holy Hell. What was happening.

You were sick of your neck getting all the attention as you reached up to take his face in your hand. He practically melted at your touch, his breath hitching as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. You wanted him, needed his mouth on yours. You pulled his face up, a little roughly, to meet your gaze. You thought you heard him let out a little surprised chuckle from the movement. His eyes were half lidded as he met yours. He was drunk, and you realized, so were you. You leaned in, your lips feather light against his-

You jumped at Wade’s voice from the other side of the door, calling for you.

Shit. You dropped your hand away from his face.

Logan growled, low and angry. He abruptly took his hot hands from your body and leaned his head to your ear, you felt his lips against your skin.

“Some other time then, darlin’.” He pulled away from you swaying slightly, before grabbing his beer from the counter and yanking open the bathroom door.

~~~

Anyway, thanks for reading. I guess I don’t know if this is any good and I will be posting the rest on Ao3 eventually

[the-grimm-writer]

I shortened it down!!! Hopefully it’s still good.

Imagine Nanami, holding you pinned down, shoving your face into the pillow where your husband used to sleep while he gives you every orgasm that pathetic excuse for a man couldn’t. Tongue, fingers, cock; all valuable tools he uses with a deadly precision to drag out orgasm after orgasm from your tired, sweaty body. You shake as your thighs scream for a break, but he keeps your ass propped up for him to sample as he pleases. You whine and plead, but he won’t show you any mercy. He has years of your disappointing marriage to make up for, and he put so much work into bringing it to a final close, he deserves to enjoy it.

You don’t know that of course. You have no idea it was Nanami who set your ex up with those women. Who drugged him and filled his glass over and over again until he was blindly stumbling into the bed of another. You didn’t know the photos were from him, the screenshots of texts and evidence that your husband may have been involved in some more… scandalous acts as well. You don’t have any clue. All you see Nanami as is the perfect man who rescued you from that hell you called a marriage, stood by your side as you fought him in court, and even as a witness who testified to his unsavory crimes.

It was only a matter of time before you finally gave into what you really wanted, and when you finally stopped worrying about faithfulness to that dog of a man who didn’t think twice about betraying you, it was you who dragged Nanami to bed. Blushing and shy the entire way, fumbling words that maybe you read his actions wrong but you want him. You need him right now. Your attempt at seducing him was adorable, and Nanami let you suckle his cock and worship his body trying to “talk him into it” for a little longer than he planned simply to bask in your enthusiasm for him before dragging you into the bed by your hair and showing you exactly how much he wanted you too.

Nanami slowly became everything to you, just as addicted to him as he was to you. But even if you did find out maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Really, your ex was cheating on you anyway. He was just far too careful about it to ever get caught. All Nanami did was lead him to those women. He didn’t force him to fuck them all. That was all him.

A good man wouldn’t have fallen for it. Nanami wouldn’t have fallen for it.

And now finally… after all that work, you’re all his to breed and fuck and love like the perfect little wife you are.

I'm so sorry I'm late to this babe but I'm going feral over this sksskskksk

You know the song You Right by Doja Cat??? Fits this scenario to a T and I'm obsessed.

.

Like Nanami just making you slowly obsessed with him as well because he "saved" you from your toxic ex. You'd still be stuck in that loveless marriage with a cheating bastard if it wasn't for him!

And he's so attentive unlike most men are, always making sure you cum first, making you feel wanted and loved and important.

Not to mention his aftercare, your sweaty body pressed against his as he pushed your hair out of the way and kissed the top of your head. Thanking you and telling you how good you were, how proud he is for taking him so well. Telling you how much he loves you as you nuzzle into him.

His clear devotion to you makes it so easy to ignore all the warnings and signs of his wrongdoings. So it's truly a win for you both. It's not like you being together hurts anyone. I mean, as long as they stay out of his way of course. <3

[morbidology]

On June 4, 1991, a security guard at the Super 8 Motel on Central Avenue, Albuquerque, New Mexico, made a grim discovery. When a female guest failed to check out at the designated time, the guard entered the room using a screwdriver after finding the door locked from the inside. Inside, he found the lifeless body of a young woman hanging from a metal showerhead by a suitcase strap.

The room was orderly, with no signs of a struggle, and the windows were securely locked from the inside. The woman had been dead for some time, as indicated by the advanced state of decomposition accelerated by the June heat and lack of air conditioning.

The woman, later referred to as "Becca" by investigators, was estimated to be between 25 and 35 years old, standing about 5’7″ tall and weighing approximately 140 pounds. She had curly red hair, likely permed, pale skin, and freckles. She was dressed in a pink and white tie-dye swirl shirt, white denim pants, 3-inch silver hoop earrings, and medium bikini underwear. The only photograph found in the room depicted her with an unidentified man, offering the sole visual clue to her identity.

Becca had checked into the motel two days earlier with a Hispanic man who signed the check-in slip as "Eduardo Colin" and provided a false license plate number. While the staff confirmed that the woman in the photo was indeed the deceased, the man who had accompanied her had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only a few beer bottles, a blue suede purse, some women’s clothing, a scale with the name "George Martinez" scrawled on it, and $500 in cash.

The scene was perplexing. There was no evidence of foul play; the room was undisturbed, and the cause of death was officially ruled a suicide by hanging. An autopsy revealed a significant amount of heroin in her system, though she had not overdosed—a finding consistent with the high tolerance often seen in heroin addicts. Despite the heroin in her system, there were no signs of a struggle or external trauma, save for some light abrasions on her face and leg, which were healing at the time of her death.

As the investigation unfolded, speculation grew. The strong suspicion was that "Becca" might have been a sex worker, and that "Eduardo Colin" could have been a client. They may have checked into the motel for drugs and sex, after which he left, and she, perhaps overcome with despair, took her own life. Another theory was that he had killed her and then staged the scene.

A tip later emerged suggesting that the woman was named Rebecca or "Becca," and that she was from Reseda or Sylmar, California. It was also suggested that she had flown to Albuquerque from Los Angeles or Burbank shortly before her death. Despite these leads, she has yet to be positively identified.

Efforts to trace "Eduardo Colin" eventually led police to a man by that name, who had lived in Albuquerque and worked as a truck driver. However, by the time they found him, he had already passed away from natural causes. When shown the photo of Becca and the unidentified man, Colin's family denied knowing either individual and insisted the handwriting on the check-in slip did not match his. This raised doubts about whether the man who checked in with Becca was actually Colin or if he had used a stolen identity.

The true identity of Becca still remains a mystery today.

[venuscrashed]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request a criminal mind BAU Team x Male Reader where on a case the reader gets captured and tortured and even though everyones supper worried, Spencer is the only one to know that reader had an addiction very similar to his and was there for Spencer every step of the way through his struggle and Spencer doesn't want his best friend and father figure going back into addiction.

If this is to dark and makes you uncomfortable it's perfectly fine not to write it

Sorry this took so long. PSATs suck

Also I headcannon older!Male reader while call Spencer Speed since his brain is fast.

“Garcia tell me you have something,” Hotch stormed into the room with Morgan and Reid behind him. The rest of the team sat around the table while other cops were in the room. Garcia’s face was on the screen with a sad, depressing smile. Hotch sighed and lowered his head, he looked to JJ and stared for a bit. “JJ.”

JJ straighter up as she her eyebrows raised. “Yes?”

“Contact the press and saw we have missing persons report. Don’t say it’s and FBI agent and tell them the Unsub took a hostage.”

“Wouldn’t they know that it’s fake considering the unsub is only a serial arsonist?” She looked back and forth between each member and could only sign. She stood up and walked out the room only to look at Reid as she passed by him.

“Reid?” Morgan looked at him with worry, “Are you ok?”

Reid looked to him with slight tears in his eyes. His hand started fidgeting with his lip trembling. “I’m fine. Now let’s go find (Y/N).”

The whole team walked out to see a news castor on the lobby tv speaking about you. They disclosed certain information as your face was displayed on the news. It hurt Reid to see the false happiness behind that smile you wore for the FBI photos. It pained him to not be able to tell anyone about your problems but he made a promise.

Emily came running out of the room as she got her gun. “Garcia found his location. It’s in some laundry mat that’s a front for a drug business.”

“Drug business?” Reid looked at her with desperation in his eyes. He followed after her, practically running just to confirm his fear.

“Is there a problem with that Reid? You can stay if you’re worried for yourself.” Emily said while getting into the drivers seat. She looked back at him in the mirror suspiciously as he got in.

“I’m fine. It’s not me that I’m worried about.” He looked out down the street while they were driving. He felt so stupid for letting them take you. He felt responsible, he was right there! The memory of you be taken plays over and over again as fear settles.

For a couple moments there was only the siren of the car. Soon, a whole wall of police cars was seen in front of a run down building. It was rusting and had garbage all over it. Fainted graffiti can be seen that said “monsters house” on it.

“Agent Hotchner!” A cop yelled, pulling the whole fbi team towards him. “He’s asking for you. Saying something about the smart one and trade. No sign of your guy though.”

“Thank you. Take your team and Agent Morgan around the back and prepare for entry.” Hotch look towards Reid before picking up the microphone. “I hope you know what you’re doing Reid.”

Reid nodded and took off. He loved around the house and found the basement door on the outside. He carefully opened it. Gun out, he descended the steps.

Once he got to the bottom he looked around in the darkness. He started to move down the hall towards the one door with light behind it.

His breath hitched as he sees you laying on the ground. Blood and empty pill bottles surrounded your body. Your hands were chained to the wall as the blood dripped down onto your head.

Reid ran to your side. He picked up your head and frantically examined it. His heart beat grew louder with every cut that was looked over. Your eyes were bloodshot, clearly drugged. Patch’s of skin were torn off as bone was exposed. The nose cartilage was twisted leaving you to breathe through your mouth. Blood pouring from your chopped tongue.

Reid panicked as he tried to lift you up. “He’s in the basement. Call ambulance.”

“You’re not calling anyone.” The unsub walked through the door, locking it behind him. The lead pipe shined under the light. The thing that scared Reid the most was the new drug bottle in his hands.

Reid stood up as fast as he could and pulled his gun out. “You don’t want to do this.”

“You think the FBI scares me. You think they’ll catch me?” The unsub chuckled lowly. “He couldn’t catch me before.”

Reid’s breath hitched. His mind finally connected the dots. This was the same man that drive you towards your addiction in the first place. The first case you couldn’t solve when you started out at the BAU.

You started twitching while moaning out incoherent words. Reid moved closer.

“Move boy.” The unsub started to walk closer. Lead pipe in hand, ready to swing. “I’m gonna kill him once and for all. And ain’t no one going to stop me this time.”

“You don’t want to do this.” Reid frantically put his finger on the trigger. “You don’t want revenge. You’re only mad that you didn’t get the fame you wanted. That’s why you killed all those people. That’s why you left survivors. Killing an FBI agent will get you your fifth teen seconded of fame. Then what?”

The man froze in his tracks. He clicked his tongue. His gripped tighten on the lead pipe out of anger. “What are you talking about boy? Everybody in the god damn state fears me. If you’ll him the whole country will know me.”

“Then they’ll forget you. I mean can you name any famous killers that killed an FBI agent. They weren’t talking about you then why would the now?”

Watch your mouth boy!” The man raised his arm to attack but got cut off with the sound of your voice.

You laughed lowly as you looked up at him. Your face was drenched with your blood. Your white teeth was shingling under all the blood the flowed down. “Face it Leo. You’re irrelevant.”

You bursted out laughing. The man was angered with all his strength going to his hands. Reid was terrified but started counting down the seconds Hotch was going to come.

“I’ll kill you! Once and for all.” The man fall down onto the ground face first. His blood pouring out onto the floor while Hotch stood behind him.

The gunshot still rang through the room as EMTs ran in for you. The rest of the team ran in. You were taking outside into the ambulance and Reid followed behind.

The sirens were blaring while you guys rushed down the street. Reid could only watch as the medics tried their best to keep you safe.

Your eyes fell into Reid’s worried face. A small smirk formed as you laughed again in your face face. “You didn’t have to worry Speed. He couldn’t kill me when I was sober and he couldn’t kill me then. That man was pathetic.”

Reid smile as say back and relaxed. “You’re strong I guess.” You two laughed the whole ride back. That was when Reid vowed to stay sober with you.

[unknownperson246]

okayokayokay if you do angst i have a really juicy angst idea

imagine 90s or 2000s Nikki Sixx x reader where Nikki finds out reader has a drug or alcohol issue

Heyyy sorry its late but I hope you enjoy it (disclaimer: I am not trying to romanticize drugs or alcohol in any way people go through so much stuff with it and its very dangerous it’s not romantic it’s hell). I might also make a part two if anyone wants one

Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

words: 1,361

warnings: *angst* *mentions of drugs* *mentions of alcohol* *rehab* *usage of drugs* *pregnancy*

You have a heavy addiction to alcohol and drugs and you can’t help but use them to comfort you in all your moments. You are afraid if Nikki finds out he will not want to be around you and he will break up with you. One morning Nikki is looking around all your hiding spaces like under your bed and behind the vanity because of this one used syringe you forgot to throw away and he finds half-empty bottles of Vodka he also finds used syringes that you forgot to dispose of. You see him rummaging through your things as you wake up and he looks at you with a concerned look.

“Babe why? Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you.” Nikki sounds very upset and disappointed with you.

“Look babe I've been through this before I'm taking you to rehab,” He says gently as he walks over to you as you lay on the bed. 

“No I'm not going Nikki I need more” you cry out.

“No, you don't You've had enough I'm only trying to help you, babe,” he says softly

You get up in your silky red nightgown and run to the places where you hide your drugs and grab small bags filled with white powder. You crush it up and put the coke in a line and you snort it. 

Nikki watches and begs for you not to do this to yourself. He knocks on the door so many times that you lose count. He breaks open the door, grabs all of the drugs, and pours them into the sink in front of you. You sob and beg for Nikki to stop.

“No Nikki please don’t do this don’t take my drugs away” you scream violently.

“I can't watch you do this to yourself. You're going to rehab and I will make sure you go”  Nikki says harshly.

After Nikki finds all of the drugs he dumps them all down the toilet and disposes of the needles he finds. You grab at Nikki and try to pull the drugs away from him. 

“Don't you dare Nikki” you say in a firm tone. He pushes you out of his way lightly. 

“Fuck you Nikki fuck this you motherfucker” you yell at him.

“I am only trying to help you Y/N you need to understand. It's for your good.” 

“I called the rehab I'm driving you there tomorrow” 

“Nikki before you take me I need to tell you something,” you say softly. 

“We are going to have a baby,” You say out of the blue.

“Don't lie to me your only making excuses so you don’t have to go to rehab”  Nikki spits out

“I'm not lying” You pull out ultrasound photos to show him. 

“Y/N I’m tired of you not telling me things why didn't you tell me earlier?”  Nikki says disappointed.

Nikki realizes that you have been using alcohol, heroin, and cocaine while you were pregnant with his baby. 

“Y/N you're going you have to go for me for you and our baby.” 

“I'm going to help you pack and get your stuff together” 

You quit trying to fight back and you realize that you could have hurt your baby so you start to grab your clothes and Nikki helps you fold them. Nikki checks your clothes to see if they have smaller bags of drugs in your clothes and does not find anything. Nikki double-checks everything in your clothes there is still nothing. 

Your one suitcase you're bringing is now packed and zipped up and it's in the corner of your guys’s room. 

“Nikki please don't take me to rehab”  you sob. 

Nikki grabs you and holds you to his chest in his arms. Your head is leaning on his chest. You can already feel the withdrawal effects from the heroin you used to take hourly. 

“Hey shhh, It's okay you're going to be okay shhh”

“I need my goddamn heroin Nikki I need it” you sob to him in his arms.

Nikki decides to not respond. He knows how hard it is at first from his own experiences with drugs and alcohol. He decides it best to just be there and support you especially since he found that you were pregnant. He knows it's very hard on you with everything you're going through at the moment. 

Nikki lays you in your guy’s bed. 

“Y/N it's going to be very hard to sleep but try to relax and rest okay?” 

You don't respond as you are mad at Nikki for getting rid of all your drugs.

The next morning arrives and you run to the bathroom puking from morning sickness. Nikki hears you retch and puke in the morning. He goes over to help you. He holds your hair while you throw up and rubs your lower back gently. You finally finish puking and you flush it down the toilet.

“Y/N it's almost time we have to leave get your clothes on and I'll grab your suitcase and put it in the car”  

You take your silky red nightgown off and put on your white bra with matching panties, jeans, and a plain white shirt. You're starting to show a tiny bit. You have no appetite to eat and it is extra-strong today because of the withdrawal of drugs. You walk out of the room and down the stairs to head to the car. Nikki is in the driver's seat ready to go and you get in the passenger seat. Nikki notices that you are starting to show a bit. You notice that Nikki is looking at your stomach. 

“Y/N how far along are you?” Nikki asks gently 

“3 months,” you say quietly as you avoid eye contact with him.

“You kept our baby a secret from me for three months?!” He is full of disappointment.

Nikki does not talk to you for the rest of the car ride. He is mad at you for keeping the baby a secret from him for a long time. You guys arrive at the rehab. You guys walk in together after Nikki grabs your suitcase from the trunk. Nikki talks to the receptionist. They have a nurse with blonde hair to walk you to the room and you and Nikki walk together as you both follow the nurse. You are scared and nervous because it's your first time at rehab. 

“Here’s your room,” the nurse says. 

The nurse starts to walk away and you and Nikki are left in the room alone. 

“Babe I can only stay for a bit they will only let me stay for a little while” 

You don't respond to Nikki's words you are suspiciously quiet. 

“I need to use the bathroom” you are thinking about your escape from this hell. 

You start to walk down the hall and you walk out of the door. Nikki sees you outside the window and you start to walk inside the bush. Nikki was surprised by your behavior he has never seen you this uncooperative. Nikki quickly rushes outside to grab you and he is trying to be careful with you since you're pregnant. 

“Let me go!” you scream at Nikki. 

Nikki holds you bridal style as you fuss in his arms and try to be set free by him. As soon you're inside the room in the facility Nikki puts you on the bed. You start to scream and cry and Nikki has no choice but to call a doctor or a nurse. Nikki calls a nurse and she comes in and tries to talk to you gently but you won't listen. They decide to get everyone out of your room and let you calm down yourself. You feel miserable from everything going on. You are still not calming down and the nurse decides to sedate you. The nurse only uses a little bit as you're a drug addict. You start to calm down as you feel exhausted.

“Nikki” you whimper as you fall asleep. 

Nikki watches you with sad eyes and holds your hand while you are asleep to let you know he is there with you.

[elliespillowprincess]

SHES MY DRUG

✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮

pt 1

pt 2

pt 3

a/n: this is my first ever (kinda) fic so it kinda sucks and is all over the place.. also this one will be a bit longer than the others! i hope to just make this an ongoing series with no real end? idk yet!!! it’s kinda all over the place

c/w: TIME SKIP??, modern au, reader is in med school, biker!ellie!!, rich!ellie… kinda toxic!ellie? angst, addiction, substance abuse, joel’s death makes an appearance, fluff, fem reader, plus size reader, insecure reader, race of reader not specified, smut, strap-on usage (r!receiving), cum eating, spit?, tribbing, fingering (r!receiving), breeding kink, TERRIBLY WRITTEN, not proofread

WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN

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ELLIE WILLIAMS

her name is everywhere now. after leaving your town, her music had blown up more than ever before. 2 years had gone by since the two of you shared your last kiss, and for the first few months the two of you texted constantly.

ellie🤭: how’s my pretty girl?

ellie🤭: hoping to come back soon

tours been getting crazy

ellie🤭:

missing you

it felt like a dream, texting one of the worlds biggest rockstars while she was on tour, her sending photos of her adventures. but all dreams end in you waking up.

you: hey wyd?

you: hoping you’re coming back soon

you: hey ellie?

we haven’t talked in a bit

i miss you.

the dream ended. just like that, you were just another girl. after waiting for replies, you decided to move on. this fantasy wasn’t real, the dream was over. ellie was now famous for hooking up with her fans, videos popping up constantly of her leading them out of her concert and onto her bike, just like she did to you.

you were just another girl.

you graduated university as the top scholar in your small town, liliana just behind you. both of you applied to a med school in new york, both getting accepted. your best friend kept telling you you’ll forget her, but how could you? she was everywhere.

eventually, there were some days you could go by without thinking of her. you decided to quit drinking and smoking, and focus on schooling. you got your pleasure elsewhere; hooking up with whatever girl swiped right on you on tinder that day. they always looked a little like her. if they didn’t have that auburn hair, they had tattoos, if they didn’t have tattoos, they were a musician, etc.

“hey, y/n?” you hear a familiar voice say. “wanna go out tonight? i feel like we haven’t gotten to hangout in ages. you don’t have to drink or anything, promise!” liliana practically begs you. it was true, the two of you hardly had any time outside of schooling to hangout, so hesitantly, you agree. she tells you all about this new club that opened, how its invite only so there won’t be too many people, and how there’s surprise private performers. she got the invite from her boyfriend, and was allowed to bring one extra person: you. you decide to use the rest of your day off prior to your later plans to take an everything shower, shaving and exfoliating your whole body. when you get out, you go to your closet to pick out something to wear, still in your towel. your new wardrobe consisted of mainly business casual clothes and scrubs for lab days, so you push them away and dig through the back of your closet. you go through the pile of clothing, until you hit something hard. you grab it, pulling it into the light. when you realize what it was, you feel lightheaded.

it’s her helmet.

tossing it to the back with a pit in your stomach, you grab three random items of clothing, shutting the door. it was exactly what you wore when you first met her: a lacy cami, short black skirt, and a leather jacket. you threw the outfit on, hoping to cover up the old memories with new ones. after you touched up your makeup, you, andrew, and liliana started pregaming. you didn’t want to overdo it, but you also wanted a small buzz for this intimidating of a club. your plan was to leave around 9, it was 8:47. “i’m actually excited, i haven’t been this excited for an event in a while!” you say to the group, feeling a buzz. the three of you are laughing and talking until you get a notification, indicating the uber was there. driving to the club, the driver put on the radio. of course, it had to be her.

the loud music and sweaty atmosphere of the club made you feel dizzy. the only thing keeping you from running away was a tall girl eyeing you across the room. she had short, dark hair, freckles, and a sour face as she looked at you like prey: your type. after a while, you notice she comes up to you, asking if you want anything to drink. agreeing, you thank her and start talking. “where y’from angel?” she asks. “nowhere near here, i used to live in a small town, goldwhit grove?” she looks at you like you’re crazy, rolling her eyes. “never heard of it. hey wanna get outta here?” you look over to your friends, liliana dancing against andrew, and remember how mad she was last time you ran off with a girl without telling her. “i don’t know i’m here with my frie-“ your sentence was interrupted but the screams of the drunken club goers around you as they all flock to the front. looking over to the stage, you see who they’re going crazy over. and of course,

it’s her.

she was everywhere, it was like you couldn’t escape and forget her no matter how hard you tried. she’s stumbling all over the stage, and slurring her words. bras were being thrown at her, and she just had this stupid look on her face. like she was loving it. she was looking around the crowd, for what you assumed to be a girl to take back to her hotel, she made eye contact with you. it felt like the whole room went quiet, even though it was far from it. you wanted to scream, call her an ass, throw drinks at her. but found another solution. turning to the girl next to you, you began rubbing against her, feeling her biceps as she wrapped her arms around you, kissing your neck. you did all of this while making eye contact with her.

“i.. i um… sorry guys.. can’t-can’t perform t’night.” she says, rushing offstage. this makes you smile, knowing you got under her skin. you continued to dance against the stranger to whatever shitty music the club put on between performers. then, it felt like the world went back into focus, your phone buzzing in your hand waking you up. “hey hold on, gotta take this.” you say, lightly pushing the girl off of you and pulling out your phone.

???: what the fuck is wrong with you

who is that???

answer me y/n i’m not fucking around

the unfamiliar messages creeped you out, so you simply blocked the number and went back to the girl, making small conversation. then, another one.

???: don’t block me

can we talk??

come to the bathrooms

rolling your eyes, you type a response.

you: idk who you are but leave me alone

it’s weird

are u stalking me??

another.

???: please

abiding by this stranger could put you in a life or death situation, but all of the adrenaline from seeing ellie and the alcohol made you lose your senses. “hey, i’ll be right back. gotta use the bathroom.” you tell the stranger, making your way through the crowds into the shitty club bathrooms. as you approach it, it seems oddly quiet for a club bathroom. you walk in, and instantly feel a hand grab your wrist, pulling you in and locking the door. “hey what the fu-“

then you see who it is.

confusion turns to shock, shock turns to anger.

“what the fuck ellie? you really think you can just ditch me for 2 fucking years and just be like ‘surprise! i’m back!’” you yell at her, pushing her away. “i’m not playing your fucking games, i feel dumb for even thinking we had something! had me waiting months for you to reply just for you to get with any groupie you come across?” she’s not saying anything, and it only makes your blood boil even more. “are you just gonna fucking sit there? i’m trying to have a good night! i caught fucking feelings for you, you made me feel like i was worth actually fucking loving, and you just threw it all away!” she just sits there, letting you yell. “fucking say something!” your voice becoming weaker, trying not to cry. looking into her eyes, you can tell she’s on something. they’re red and blown out, she reeks of alcohol and weed.

“you’re wearing the outfit.” she says flatly, looking at your outfit. you laugh, actually laugh at her. the fact you just spilt your heart out and all she can do it’s compliment your physical traits. “oh.. oh my god. you- you got problems ellie.” you say with a huff, pushing her away and heading for the door. “i’m leaving, and i’m gonna go back to a girl that maybe actually gives two fucks about me, unlike you.” reaching for the handle, you feel her grab your waist and pull you to her back. “please, don’t go.” you sigh against her, starting to tear up. “let-lemme go ellie..” you barely try to fight her grip. she doesn’t do anything, just breathes you in. “don’t… don’t go, please.” she says softy against your neck, her voice cracking. it feels like you’re melting.

turning around, you look directly at her. “i want an explanation.” you say, wiping tears from your eyes. “you told me you’d come back, you told me you missed me. where did that all go?” you look at her with doe, tear-filled eyes. she just wraps her hands around your face and admires you. “it.. didn’t go anywhere. jus’ a lot happened okay? i just need you to believe me.” your faces are mere inches away, and she’s staring at you with pleading eyes. “how can i believe you ellie? you’re not even sober.” she just wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you in and hugging you.

then you start to hear crying- no, sobbing. she sobs into your shoulder, trying to speak but unable to get words out. she casts her spell on you once again, drawing you in and making you hug her back. “just… just tell me what happened okay?” she’s barely breathing, and you rub her back in an attempt to calm her down. “he- he died!! he fucking died!” she says between cries. “who? who died ellie?” you say softy into her ear. “joel! he- he took care of me i- i- was so mean to him!” she cries against you. “hey, hey it’s okay ellie, just breathe.” after a few minutes of her crying, she starts to breathe slower, eventually pulling back and wiping your face. “can.. can we go somewhere else please?”

it was like déjà vu, being back on ellie’s bike. you had her other helmet at your apartment, so she gave you hers instead. you were honestly scared, she looked intoxicated, but she assured you she was fine to drive. speeding through the streets of new york, you arrive at ellie’s penthouse, of course. the walk into the building in the ride up the elevator is quiet, the only noise coming from ellie sniffling.

unlocking the door on the top floor, she lets you in. the place was trash. liquor bottles, pill bottles, baggies with unknown substances, different girls clothes. you were a little disgusted, but ellie ushered you to her room, which was much cleaner in contrast. you hesitate to sit down, thinking about how many girls fucked her on that bed. “no girls have been in my bed, promise.” you hear her voice say, sitting down.

the two of you just sit there, waiting for the other to speak. she finally gets the nerves to, and starts off. “i just wanna say i’m sorry, y/n. you didn’t deserve any of this.” she looks over at you with hooded eyes and continues. “when he… died, i didn’t know what to do- it was when i was in london.” that was around the time she stopped texting. “i just.. turned to a lot of stuff for comfort. i didn’t know what to do- i know it’s not an excuse..” she stares at you, waiting for a response. “thought about you every fucking day. honestly.” your heart starts to melt. “i don’t expect you to forgive me, but let me make it up to you okay?” you nod silently. this doesn’t feel real. “please say something..” she begs. your eyes meet hers and you just word dump everything that’s been clouding your mind for the past two years.

“look, ellie, i understand where you’re coming from. i just.. i need you to know how much it hurt me, seeing you get with all those other girls, it made me feel ugly. inside and out.” her gaze softens and she unexpectedly pulls you in for a hug. “fuck. i’m so fucking sorry, y/n. you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever fucking seen.” she says, her head buried into your shoulder. “everytime i was with any of those girls, i thought about you. anytime i was anywhere doing anything, i thought about you.” her words contrast her actions, but her soft words and tears make you start to believe her.

you hug her back, the two of you laying down in her bed. it all feels so wrong, but so right, she was like an addiction; she was horrible for you but you just kept going back. she softly rubbed your hair, causing your eyes to feel heavier and heavier until you fall asleep in her arms.

fuck.

you wake up, and the first thing you see is ellie. she’s awake already. she smiles at you, a genuine smile. you on the other hand, look horrified. “goodmorning.” she says, pushing your hair out of your face. “how’d you sleep?” you’re lost for words at this point. you start to remember why you don’t drink anymore. “i.. um.. i gotta use the bathroom.” you mutter before getting up, grabbing your phone from her bedside table, and locking yourself in the bathroom. you open your phone.

lili🦄: wya?

you slipped off again

where’d u go?

hello?

dude don’t do this again

ur freaking me out.

is that u that i just saw leave?

i’m following u

who is that?

where are you going??

dude answer hello??

you reply with a spew of apologies, telling her you’re safe and you’ll be home soon. “y/n?” you hear ellie shout from another room. “i made breakfast!” what the fuck? it was like she was a different person, like nothing that happened in the past actually happened and the two of you were a happy couple. you unlock the bathroom door, creeping into the living room. your jaw dropped, it was spotless.

“wow! you uh.. really cleaned up the space?” she smiles at you, plating what looks like eggs, bacon, and toast. “couldn’t sleep. i know you usually wake up early so i slipped out of bed last night and made it back before you woke up.” she waves you over to the table. “come, eat.” you tiptoe to the table, still in your clothes from the club the night prior. sitting down, ellie sets your plate down, along with some water before sitting herself down across from her. it’s quiet, uncomfortable. she decides to break the silence before you start eating. “i’m done with the pills, y/n.” she says bluntly. it kind of takes you by surprise, not the fact that she’s doing it, but the fact she announced it so bluntly. “gonna better myself. better myself for you, us.” she says. her words almost feel like knives to your heart, why was she changing all of this now? “i know it’s late, but i want to be better.” you put a piece of bacon in your mouth, swallowing before speaking. “i’m glad, ellie.” you say softly. the meal remains quiet, but its shifts from an uncomfortable to a comfortable silence.

“hey, i have to go home, can you text me please? for real this time.” you say half heartedly. she puts your dishes away in the sink, nodding. “i’ll take you home, don’t want you in those ubers, they’re not safe.”

the next few months consisted of you texting ellie, again. but this time, she came back very often. as soon as a show ended, she’d be on the next flight to new york to see you.

ellie🧸: boarding the plane rn

can’t wait to see u :)

both of your schedules were tight, but you still worked in time to see each other. ellie often cancelled entire shows just to see you, losing all that money. but she didn’t care, she just wanted you to be happy.

you: i miss youuuu

when r u coming back?

ellie🧸:

rn tbh

it felt like a dream once again, but this time, you had a feeling she wasn’t gonna let go. you hoped she wouldn’t. the two of you hung out constantly, going to her shows and being in the first row, her singing directly to you. going on walks at times square, ellie wearing a mask to hide her face of course. and sleepovers at each others apartments. liliana kept telling you to be careful, to not get hurt again.

not only were you guys talking again, but she was making it very apparent to her fans. saying things like “this one’s for my girl, she’s watching at home. see you soon, sweetheart” before playing love songs. even though you guys weren’t official- you haven’t even kissed since your last one almost 3 years ago- she sure acted like it. she was almost always sober, only ever smoking weed or having small amounts of alcohol before performing to lighten her nerves: never with you.

you were going over your neuro notes in your room, when ellie calls you, and you pick up.

you: “hey! what’s up?”

ellie: “i just got off the plane, gonna pick you up in 30 kay? wear something nice pretty girl, we’re going out.”

you: “what? where?”

ellie: “just be ready, kay? mwah i gotta go!”

the call ends and you laugh at how dumb ellie was, making kissing sounds. you quickly get up to find something to wear and throw on some makeup. you didn’t know how fancy you had to be, so you stuck with a tight black dress, black heels, and the necklace made out of pure gold ellie bought for you a couple weeks ago.

ellie🧸: come outside

her text makes your heart skip a beat, and you go out to see ellie standing next to a car. from your knowledge, she didn’t own any cars; just bikes. she was wearing a fucking suit: white button up that she of course didn’t button up all the way, black pants and jacket, and her dumb converse that completely contrasted the outfit. she smiled when she saw you. “ellie? what’s this?” you laugh, going up to hug her and smell her cologne. “y’like it? had it delivered earlier today before i got home for tonight!” she says with a coy smile. you let out a breathy laugh at the fact she can just buy such an expensive car for no good reason.

“it’s gorgeous, ellie.” you smile at her and she pushes herself off the car, turning around to open the passenger side. crawling in, you admire the inside. it was all black, with silver accents and a large carplay module. the passenger side had some photos of the two of you, and your name was engraved into the dashboard. it looked engraved by the fucking manufacturers.

she shuts your door, walking to the drivers seat, plopping inside. “whatcha think? paid a pretty penny for them to customize that.” she looks at you nervously, hoping you’ll like it. “oh ellie, you didn’t have to do this! you’re so sweet.” she smiles. “i’m glad you like it, babe.” she presses the button to turn the car on, and it unleashes a loud roar. as if she couldn’t get any hotter, the car was a manual, and she knew very well how to use one. the two of you leave the parking lot of your apartment complex, speeding through the buildings. you can help but stare at her, as you never got to see her face when she was on her motorcycle. she was focused; shifting gears strategically without stalling. you just stare at her face, her slightly unbuttoned shirt, her hands: your face becomes warm. “something wrong?” her voice snaps you out of it, noticing you’re staring.

“oh um- i’m fine! sorry..” you laugh quietly. “it’s okay to stare y’know? i stare at you all the time.” she says simply. god, she says everything with no fear. “where are we going?” you ask, curiously. “uhh i think it’s called masa’s sushi bar? heard it was really nice.” your eyes widen and your jaw drops. “WHAT??” you ask her, dumbfounded. “ellie that’s like $600 a person!! i can’t afford that right now i-“ “i got it, don’t worry ‘bout it kay?” she interrupts you. “ellie i don’t need to be taken out to nice places- id love to just sit in one of our apartments and watch cartoons.” you start feeling bad.

“you deserve it, let me take you out okay?” you put your head down, feeling terribly guilty. “hey, don’t feel bad okay? this is what i want to spend my money on.”

the two of you arrive at the restaurant, and before you can open your door, ellie screams “WAIT!” before jumping out her side and running to your door, opening it for you with a smile, reaching her hand out. you can’t help but laugh. “you’re such a nerd, ellie!”

the dinner consisted of the two of you laughing at each other, almost getting kicked out a few times for your loud behavior. “ellie! be quiet! that guy has come over a million times to tell you to be quiet!” you say in a loud whisper. when the check comes, you see the total and feel like vomiting. “$2,457?? ellie you’re crazy! i feel so bad let me give you someth-“ you try to pull your empty wallet out but she stops you, “i got it, don’t worry okay?” she tips the workers a large amount and gets up to grab your purse, and walk you out. walking to the car, she opens your door, handing you your purse before getting in herself.

“i have one more surprise, we’re going back to mine tonight.” she says while starting the car. “another? seriously ellie i dont want you spendi-“ “nuh uh, don’t wanna hear it. you deserve this okay?”

the ride home was fast, and filled with tension. you were nervous for what else ellie had in store for you. arriving at her penthouse, she lets you out and leads you to the elevator. you’re shifting nervously on your feet, and she notices. “what’s wrong?” she asks you, stepping a little closer. “i’m nervoussss! what is the surprise?” “gotta wait, sweetheart.”

arriving at her door, she opens it and holy shit. it was covered in flowers, slow music playing in the background. you followed the trail of flowers to the dining room table: the place the two of you spent countless meals together just basking in eachother presence. on the table, was a small white box. you lift it up, having no clue what could be inside. “open it, princess.” she says with a goofy, excited smile. you open the box, and oh my god. it was a gorgeous golden necklace, with an “E” attached to the chain. it wasn’t obnoxious, it was beautiful.

“ellie! what is this?! it’s so pretty!” you smile at her, hugging her. “do- do you like it?” “like it?? ellie i love it!!” you say into her shoulder. the two of you hug for a moment before she pulls you back, pulling a necklace out with your initial on it from under her shirt. everything feels electric, fuzzy, and warm. “let me help you put it on.” she says, gently grabbing the necklace out of the box. you turn around, lifting your hair, allowing her to clip the necklace around your neck. you turn around to look at her, and she adjusts it so it sits centered on your neck.

“you’re so pretty.” she just stares at you for a moment, admiring your features. she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, opening them again before asking,

“can i be your girl?”

it felt like you were floating. her cologne was filling your nose, her eyes searching for an answer in yours.

“i know it’s a lot to ask- i just- i really like you y/n and-“

she’s cut off by you pressing your lips against hers, wrapping your hands in her hair. her eyes stayed open for a moment before the closed, kissing you deeper. she wrapped her arms around your waist, wanting to feel you closer. the two of you stayed there for a moment before you pulled away with tears brimming your eyes.

“yes, yes i’ll be your girl ellie!” you say, laughing deeply and throwing your head back as she places playful kisses along your jaw. “fuck yes, yes!!” she says, laughing with you. the two of you just stand in the dining room for a bit, gently kissing one another before you pull back, leading her to the bedroom.

you grab the collar of her shirt, pulling her ontop of you, kissing her deeply. the two of you spend about 15 minutes just enamored with one another’s mouth, when she notices you squirming, pulling back. “what’s wrong baby?” she asks, innocently. “s’hot ellie..” you say, mascara running and your cherry lipstick smudged. she smiles, dipping down to suck on your neck, leaving dark marks, running her tongue over them to soothe the pain. her lips travel down, meeting the top of your dress. “can i take this off for you?” you nod immediately. “gotta tell me with your words, princess.” you whimper at her request, obliging. “yes.. yes you can take it off els.”

“good girl.” she gently removes your dress, followed with your bra and underwear, leaving you naked under her. “so pretty, my gorgeous girl.” she coos. she begins kissing down your collarbone, and to your chest. she looks up at you as she practically makes out with your boobs, giving equal attention to both of them. she lifts her head, looking at you with lust filled eyes as she steps off the bed to undress, completely naked. you’re practically drooling, looking at her toned abs, perky tits, and the freckles that litter her body. she goes back up to kiss you, before asking, “are you still sure? “fuck- yes fuck els- just… please”

“okay, baby.”

the speaker in the living room begins playing Let the Light in by Lana Del Rey. she lifts your leg, allowing it to limply lay over her shoulder as she slowly lowers her cunt over yours. the sudden contact causes both of you to let out a breathy moan before she begins grinding against you. “so pretty, my pretty baby..” you can barely respond, the feeling of her cunt directly on yours making you dizzy. it feels so intimate, but so right.

“never.. never leaving your side again you understand?” she says between grunts. “you and me- fuck- forever baby.” she’s grabbing at you: your tits, your hips, kissing your face. the air in your lungs feels like it’s being sucked out. “els… please i- more..” you beg. her pace speeds up, her eyes locked on yours. “gonna… gonna take care of my girl ‘kay?” you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. “els… m’gonna cum!!” you moan, grabbing at her arms. “me too- fuck- cum with me baby cmon give it to me.”

and that’s all it takes.

your orgasm rips through you, making your vision blur as hers follows right after, riding both of yours out. the room is filled with moans, squelching, and grunts as you both come down from your high. she collapses beside you, kissing you softly and cuddling you. she pulls away for a minute to just admire you. “y/n i.. i love you.” she says, smiling nervously. you can’t help but giggle as you pull her in closer, saying,

“i love you ellie williams.”

1 year later

you were getting ready for ellie’s private concert, wearing the same outfit you wore when she asked to be yours. it was your anniversary, and she was gonna take you out to a nice dinner followed by a surprise after the show was over. “baby? you ready?” you hear your girlfriend say, walking over to her to show her your outfit. “oh my goddd” she gawks over you. “look at my princess.” she says, grabbing your ass as she pulls you in for a messy kiss.

you two were late for her concert.

your heart was so full watching your girlfriend perform onstage. you were right up front, catching each others eye constantly. the sound of squealing girls around you threatened to drown out ellie’s singing. you look around, growing insecure at all the girls throwing themselves at ellie. she was smiling, enjoying the crowd and attention. girls were flashing her, holding up provocative signs. normally it didn’t get to you, but tonight it did.

finishing the concert, ellie’s bodyguards escort you to join her backstage. ellie notices your mood, and asks what’s wrong. “nothing ellie, jus wanna go home.” you reply blankly. “okay.. okay let’s go home yeah?”

arriving at her house, you walk to her bedroom, plopping yourself on her bed. she follows close behind after setting down her bag. “what’s on your mind, you seem sad?” she asks innocently. “the fact all those girls throw themselves at you! i mean, i don’t usually get so insecure, i know you love me jus…” you choke on your tears. “they’re so pretty, els. scared you’re gonna leave me for one of them y’know? i know im not the prettiest, i don’t have the best body-“ ellie cuts you off, jointing you on her bed. “hey, hey. don’t say that okay? you know i only have eyes for you.” she says softly, kissing your forehead. “you’re the most beautiful girl in this world, love. your body is beautiful.” she kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

it was like all your insecurities flew out the window. the two of you were laying on her bed, kissing each other softly. “m’sorry i ruined your surprise.” you say sadly. “hey, you didn’t ruin anything okay?” she reassures you. “what was the surprise?” her face turns a light shade of pink, stuttering. “we don’t have to- it’s was just if-“ you become more interested in what it was. “cmonnnnn just tell meee!” you say, the curiosity killing you. “are you sure? it’s not- if you’re not in the mood-“ “tell me ellie!” she sighs, grabbing your hand gently and placing it over her crotch. your eyes widen and you instantly feel wetness pool to your cunt.

she bought a strap on.

“we don’t have to, sweet thing. we can ju-“ her sentence is interrupted by you kissing her deeply, spit mixing with one another’s. she sat up so you could sit in her lap, her palming the fat of your ass. the two of you already removed all of your clothing besides underwear, the skin to skin contact making you dizzy. the make out session turned sloppier as minutes went by, and you became needier: grinding against her thigh. she noticed, and inquired you about it. “what’s wrong baby? needy for me?” you nod, almost forgetting ellie always wants you to use your words. “want.. want your cock, ellie.” you say, whimpering in her mouth.

“lay on your back, lemme do all the work.”

she helps you pull your underwear down your legs, followed by her boxers just after: causing the strap on to bounce out and fuck was it big. probably 7 inches, extremely thick and a dark shade of purple. you practically drool at the sight of your naked girlfriend in front of you, all strapped up. “gotta make sure you’re ready first, okay baby?” she tells you, gently pushing her fingers into your wet hole. “your so fuckn’ wet, baby. i do this?” you nod aggressively, making her add a second finger. “cmon, mama, gotta tell me with your words, how else will i know?” you loved when she was demanding, it usually only happened when she becomes really possessive.

“yes ellie- fuck! yes it you that made- made me this wet!” you say between moans. after a few minutes, she pulls her fingers out. “suck.” she demands. you oblige, taking her long digits in your mouth and sucking every last drop off. “y’ready? i’m gonna go slow okay?” she says whilst gently pushing the tip in. she goes slow, waiting for you to ask for more before she goes deeper. once she’s all the way in, she’s drooling at the sight of you swallowing the silicone. “can feel you squeezing my cock, baby. fuckkk look at her.” she presses your thighs to your stomach, ensuring she can get as deep as possible. then, it’s like the world is on fire.

she starts pounding into you animalisticlly, watching the ring of white forming at the base of her fake cock. she leans down to suck on your tits, sloppily making out with them as you scratch her back up with your long nails. this time, it isn’t slow or gentle. it’s hot and fast. needy. most of the time, she coos you through your orgasm, going slow and gentle. times like this, however, it’s like she has her mind set on one thing: making you finish. her words become more vulgar.

“fuckkkk look at that pretty pussy baby, she’s just taking all of me huh?”

“all. fucking. mine.” between thrusts.

“can see it poking through your stomach, sweetheart.”

“gonna fill you up, mama. carry my kids?”

the last line makes you moan loudly, as you didn’t know it was something you liked. she smiles, continuing her pace, out of breath. “yeah baby? you like that? want me to fill you to the fuuuuckin brim? dirty girl.” she makes out with you sloppily, drool dripping down your faces. “ellie.. ellie fuck i’m gonna cum!!”

little did you know: she was too.

the base of the strap had been rubbing perfectly against her clit, her pace speeding to make the two of you finish.

“fucking cum all over me- fuck- cream my fucking cock baby. fuckkk”

the two of you scream out, as your orgasms rip through at the same time. all you can hear is ellie saying “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou!!” as you come undone, her fucking you through every last bit of your orgasm. she collapses next to you, pulling out. you whimper at the feeling of emptiness. “i love you so much.” she says, wrapping her hand around your waist basking in the skin to skin contact. “i love you, els.” she kisses you softly, rubbing your plump hips.

“i love you most sweetheart, happy anniversary.”

[potlattice]

Black Out Days (Rafe Cameron x reader)

Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings: mentioned drug-use, toxic!Rafe

Following a tumultuous split from the Pogues and after continuing your relationship with Rafe, Y/N reflects on the person you used to be...

You continued to stare at the phone as it sat on the dresser, lighting up every few moments. The screen displayed a picture of you and Rafe, taken roughly four months ago.

You had disliked the photo as it depicted you in a rather revealing bikini. You were uncomfortable with the idea that anyone could pick up his phone and see it. Including members of his or your family. But he said he liked looking at it. So it remained.

That was the way it went in your relationship.

Your eyes shifted to the mirror above the dresser and you stared at your reflection, perched on the edge of Rafe's bed.

He said he preferred it when you wore no make-up, so you'd tossed your entire collection away.

He told you that you looked better in gold jewellery than silver, so you wore whatever he gave to you.

He liked the waitress at the fancy restaurant in town, so you said nothing when her name flashed across his screen.

It stung that he'd met her on one of your dates.

A year ago, you'd have never thought you'd be getting served $100 champagne in the most expensive restaurant in Kildare. Back then, you were more likely to be found on a rickety, old fishing boat, shot-gunning beer with your friends.

Now you watched as the HMS Pogue passed by from Rafe's yacht.

You fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. There was a hole in it from where he'd angrily thrown his gaming controller one time. You were just glad it wasn't aimed at you.

You wouldn't put it past Rafe.

Although, despite his temper, he had always been careful not to damage you. But you wondered if that time was running out.

The door to his ensuite opened and he came out, a towel slung lowly on his hips. You felt a stir of emotion, a prick of desire, but otherwise remained motionless on the bed.

You were still bare, covered only partially by a blanket.

"You waiting on a round two or something?" He asked giving you a quick glance. Rafe turned his back to you as he rifled through his chest of drawers and then pulled on a pair of basketball shorts. His back muscles rippled with the movement. There was a time you forgot he was human too, he'd been so perfect in your eyes.

The drugs helped to keep that varnish from disappearing entirely.

He pulled out a baggie from his bed side table and tossed it onto the bed by your head.

"That's all you want now, right?" He said with a bitter tone, sitting on the end of the bed by your head and exhaling deeply. "It's as if you don't care about me these days."

"I do." You denied with a calm demeanour.

"Oh, really? And if I stopped your supply?" He asked. The question hung in the air between you.

Maybe you'd go back to your old life, before the drugs, before him. Maybe your friends would forgive you.

But you both knew the truth.

He wouldn't let you go, and you didn't want to leave. You were more addicted to him than the drugs, they just helped you get through the harder days.

You sat up before reaching out to lay a hand on his back. He craned his neck over his shoulder to stare down at you.

"It's always gonna be us." You reassured him.

It seemed to work as his cold expression slipped away and he reached forward to lay a warm hand on your face.

"There's nothing else." He agreed, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips.

There was nothing else because he wouldn't let there be. He controlled the way things happened and any threat to that was dealt with by him.

At the end of the day, the other girls didn't matter. You could see no way out now, because Rafe wasn't one to let things go.

The gold 'R' that hung around your neck was the physical evidence of your tether to him.

You clutched it as he turned you around on the bed and pushed you into the mattress with firm hands. He was quick with his movements and pulled his shorts down as the blanket fell from your body.

The plastic bag of coke was in front of you and you grasped it with your other hand.

Rafe pushed a hand down on your head so it was turned to one side and had your cheek pinned to the mattress, he liked to be on top, but he also liked to see your face. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror beside you just as he entered you.

You watched the way it didn't take much for him to slip in, or how it didn't stimulate a pained expression from you despite the abrupt intrusion.

You had only one fleeting thought before you let yourself fall into waves of pleasure:

i don't recognise you anymore.

he's a tad toxic...

[gretahayes]

Favourite tim drake recs? :0

Assuming you mean fanfic recs, I've got probably the most for him and this is long, so it's going under the cut;

This is genuinely one of my favorites, it's set post-Red Robin, and deals with Tim's vigilante stalking habits, his family finding out, Cass realizing there's no photos of Tim, them setting out to take/find some of him (a much harder feat than you'd think) and finally, Tim seeing the photos. It's amazing and sweet, and I can't recommend it enough. (I especially like the Bruce & Tim and Tim & Damian in this)

This is by the same author, also set post-Red Robin. This is Damian and Tim focused, Damian POV, in which Damian sees Bruce's contingency plans for him and the rest of the family, and with nobody else to turn to, runs for Tim. Canon divergent in the way Bruce doesn't have a contingency for his children, neither does Tim for his team, or them for him, but it kinda makes sense in this setting. Their interactions are amazing here, and seems so real.

In this, Tim gets a tonsillectomy. An elaboration in the form of a long fic. A must-read, I feel. It's funny and has so many feels and such good characterization.

!!! Can't believe I almost forgot about this one! Tim is Bruce's assistant, not son, and never became a vigilante. He's incredibly overworked, but no less dedicated to the Waynes. It's heartwrenching and sweet and funny and—words can't do it justice. It's a must read. The Al Ghuls make a cameo but Tim knows how to deal with them. Tim's deeply sad but next to nobody knows and those that do just accept it (including him). Kon is the MVP. Cass. Damian and Tim have an odd bond built of mutual respect and disdain for everyone around them. Luthor tries to recruit Tim every year and fails.

This is funny and amazing—Tim lands in a universe where he's technically considered a drug addict, since coffee is a drug and in the regular universe everyone drinks it.

The YJ fic Ever. I've recced this at least three times, and I will continue to. It's amazing characterization all around—both YJ and batfam—and genuinely is so fun. I love everyone in this. When an unknown enemy threatens Robin, Gotham's vigilantes come together to keep him safe. Unfortunately, they're protecting the wrong Robin. Or: Tim Drake plans his own rescue. Things get complicated.

This is Tim & Damian—Tim gets his overprotective big brother moment :) love love LOVE the way everyone is written here.

This is short and hilarious—Tim has amnesia after a head wound (can only remember back to his YJ days) and tries to bullshit his way out of anyone noticing. He might have succeeded if not for Cass.

This is a time loop fic, switching POVs. Tim's stuck in a time loop in which Jason always dies. The loop before the one this was set in, he accidentally kills Damian out of stress and too-fast reflexes. He breaks down when he sees Damian again, the whole thing unravels, and they resolve to help him out of it.

THIS SERIES MAKES ME FERAL. Jack, Tim and sometimes Dana, set when Jack made Tim quit from Robin. Horror-type elements and beautifully poetic, but centered around Jack's POV of the son he realizes he doesn't know, and him realizing he may be a shit dad. Dana's the best stepmom ever, and Tim's far nicer to her than he is Jack. This is the first work, in which Jack tries and fails to understand this Tim, and realizes that this Tim is Robin, not Tim. This is the second (and last) work in the series, in which Tim hasn't fully quit the lifestyle even though he's not going out as Robin, but Jack has no proof he hasn't. Just a hunch and a few odd occurrences that us, the readers, who are familiar with Tim's hero life will find obvious, but Jack does not. Dana makes Tim happier, more Tim than Tim-Robin, than Jack does, and Jack hates it. Near the end, he starts calling Tim Robin, not Tim. I LOVE it. Even if you hate Jack (like I do) you need to read this, for the Tim characterization if nothing else. Outsider POV, except he shouldn't be an outsider. But he is.

This is so fucking funny. Tim gets a matching tattoo with Kon, and hides it from Bruce. When Bruce—and the rest of his family—find out, all goes to hell.

Remember when I said the Jack and Tim series was only slightly horror? This is horror. Bruce's got a habit of picking up monsters, and this one is about Tim. If you're sensitive to horror, please read the tags and maybe avoid it, because this is delightful but not for everyone.

In this, Tim becomes an unintentional sugar daddy to the caped community. It's a bit iffy in some places, but hilarious.

This is Dick and Tim (surprised it took me this long to rec one with them as the main focus tbh) and it's Dick checking up on his little brother. Pure fluff, and genuinely amazing.

This is Tim & Bruce but also Tim & Tam in some places. Bruce forgets Tim is the majority shareholder for WE and is thus invited to shareholder meetings, Tim finds this very amusing and is generally a menace. You can FEEL the teenager in this Tim. Amazing.

Tim's de-aged to a kid in this, and re-meets his family. Fluff and feels ensue.

This is Bruce and Tim. Bruce isn't prepared for his newest Robin's neuroses.

This has Tim & Cassie meeting at an archaeologist event as kids and having to fight a monster thing :) it's cute

GODDD this fic? This fic ruined me. Beautiful Tim characterization, a gorgeous look at Bruce and how much he fucks up despite caring, and Dick being a stressed but amazing big brother with gorgeous writing. I love their brotherly affections here, and Tim's weird neuroses being shown here. Tim & Bruce is how it starts, and it's very much centered around their relationship, but it tapers off into Dick & Tim, which I'm not complaining about. Kon (and Bart!) makes a cameo and is an amazing friend. Can't rec this enough. If you read none of the other fics, please read this one.

This is Dick and Tim again. Dick forces Tim to go undercover with him to an Elvis convention in a thinly veiled attempt to spend time with the brother who he doesn't think knows how much he loves him. It's set in Tim's POV, though, so until Dick says this, Tim doesn't know. Hilarious and short.

This is Dick and Tim (who's surprised? Nobody) where Dick goes to Robin!Tim's science fair because Tim mentioned it and well, nobody else was going. Short and sweet.

This deals with the batfam finding out about the shitshow that was Tim's BruceQuest. If you're a stickler for canon I'd recommend you skip this one, but if not, it's a great read.

This is Dick and Tim again, and it's amazing. Tim's alone on Christmas Eve. Dick finds out, and does something about it. It's Robin!Tim, so this is Dick, Babs and Tim. This author is amazing at writing their interactions, plus inside Dick's head is a tricky place to write and they nail it perfectly. Mostly Dick & Tim, but since he invites Tim to Babs' holiday party, Babs makes a good number of cameos.

This is Tim talking a jumper off the ledge while Damian watches. Then they talk about it. Tim from Damian's POV is always interesting, but this especially is amazing.

This is a core four fic, Tim's POV! Pure humor. Tim finds a dildo in the dishwasher and he drags them for a team meeting so he can sus out whose it is.

I've recced this before, I think, but I'll do it again. Red Robin canon divergence fic in which Bruce is actually dead, and Tim calls Dick to tell him he thinks he may have been wrong. Dick's POV, short, but the emotion in this is outstanding.

In this fic, Damian has trouble with the transition from Dick's Batman to Bruce's Batman. Tim, who's also had both, is surprisingly helpful. This has so many Tim and Damian feels that I'm literally bursting at the seams. Melancholy, camaraderie, and all the good stuff. Damian's POV, and since he sucks at so much as guessing at what's going on in Tim's head, it's all the more great.

This is Dick and Tim, a soft Christmastime fic.

This is Bruce and Tim. Bruce and Tim have a sort-of game that started when Tim was thirteen. Initially, it was Tim stealing sips (or occasionally whole mugs) of Bruce’s coffee, back when he was too young for Alfred to allow him to drink it. Now, though, Bruce is getting his own back, and steals Tim’s coffee when he can. Sweet and fluffy.

Here, Tim gets a headwound and only remembers back to his Robin days, and forgets to be awkward around Dick and Damian. Tugs at the heartstrings. Dick's reminded of how much he misses this Tim.

This is really funny. Remember that time during the YJ days where the adult heroes were de-aged and the kid ones grew to be adults? Tim didn't reach six foot. In this, he's mocked ruthlessly for it.

Here, Tim goes to high school again after dropping out :) it's core four and hilarious

In this, Tim accidentally kills his dad in self defense—or rather, thinks he does, Jack's still alive but he doesn't know that until Dick shows up—and scrambles to call Dick. He calls Jason instead. Dick eventually gets called and shows up, and the brotherly feels in this are amazing. Tim's in shock for a good portion of it, and it's his POV, so you've got to piece some stuff together. Bad dad Jack, as in worse than canon bad dad Jack. Tugs on the heartstrings, and have I said I love Dick in this? Because I do. Bruce shows up near the end, and to everyone's surprise, doesn't absolutely fuck things up and/or fail as a parent.

Here, Tim is sick and alone. Dick, after not hearing from Tim at all for three days, goes to his apartment, finds him sick, and takes care of him. Eventually he gets dragged to the Manor for some actual r&r. It's sweet, and this writer has an amazing way with words and an intriguing flow.

In this, Bruce knows Tim. They have a routine, have habits, they know each other. This is so so touching, and I love it so much.

Here, Tim and Steph give Bruce a headache. It's amazing.

I..can't even begin to describe this. Bruce is fresh from the timeline, and this is a sort of introspection/character study type thing about him and Tim and how Tim's changed. Mostly, though? Mostly, Bruce just gives his son a hug.

Here, Kon is Tim's work husband. Bruce suffers. Pure fluff and humor, with a touch of feels.

Here, Bruce takes Tim to get his wisdom teeth out. They're both worried, but together, they're alright. Tim cries while doped up on the drugs. He cries a lot.

Here, 90's!Tim Drake wakes up in his Red Robin body. Exhausted from a YJ mission, he chooses to focus on getting through a normal day so as not to disrupt things for his future self. But, y'know, his way. Hilarious and so in-character, if exaggerated for comedy.

This is Tim and Damian—Damian gets hit with truth serum on patrol, and a pissed off Tim has to come and get him. Damian resolves to not tell Tim he's been hit with truth serum. They get closer as a result. Love their dynamic in this.

This is core four again, but just general teenager superhero chaos. Can't rec it enough

Here, Tim tries to build a LEGO Gotham, but his family just can't leave it—or him—alone. He calls a family meeting to tell them to knock it off, and they do not. Fluff and humor.

Here, Tim has appendicitis and gets his appendix removed. The best mix of fluff, feels, and good old complicated family dynamics ever

In this, Bruce tries to navigate giving affection to his odd son, Tim. Touching and funny.

This is Tim and Damian—Damian crashes on Tim's bed in the Watchtower when injured, Tim finds him. They talk, and maybe bond a bit, even though they'd never admit it.

Here, Bruce hugs Tim. Really nothing else to it.

Another fic where Tim wakes up with amnesia and pretends to know his family so he's not rude. He's found out when he correctly deduces Bruce is his dad, but makes the mistake of calling Bruce dad.

This is Dick and Tim again. Tim gets de-aged into a six-month-old, and Dick takes care of him. Soft and so so sweet.

In this, Tim's trying to work in his apartment when his siblings keep showing up to distract him and get him to take a break. It's sweet of them, if very annoying.

This is Bruce and Tim. Tim's injured and lying in bed, Bruce gets him takeout. Feels fuzzy and just...good. You've got to read it to know what I'm talking about, no summary does it justice.

Here, Damian tries to make amends with Tim. He does it very oddly though, so Tim thinks he has a crush on him, and avoids him all the more for it because ew-gross-ew-ew.

In this, Tim gets his teeth knocked out and grabs Dick as a mediator so he tells Bruce. Short and funny-sweet. You can tell this is in Tim's Robin run, due to all the little hints dropped.

This is Tim and Kon, funny and nonsensical. Tim calls Kon in the early hours of the morning, drunk. Kon thinks he deserves sainthood for this.

In this, Tim has road rage and most of his family find that out in the most hilarious way possible.

Bruce and Tim—a test sort of fic? Interesting, definitely.

This is timkon, Tim has memory loss and is amazed by Kon all over again.

Core four go to a gala :)

This is Dick and Tim, Tim breaks into Dick's house, accidentally interrupts his nap, tries to leave out of guilt, and gets wrangled into hugs. So so soft and so so sweet.

Another de-aged Tim fic, but this time with six year old Tim and Bruce taking care of him. This is so melancholy and...ugh. I love them.

Here, Tim and Dick are thrown into an alternate universe and have to try and get back with no other support system and no way out. They meet this world's version of Bruce and Alfred, though.

CEO Tim, and hates it. He makes that Luthor's problem.

Timkon, in which Tim plans all his dates VIA corkboard and Kon is so attracted to that.

CEO Tim (again), except he's still a teenager and people end up thinking he's a communist. This is short and hilarious all the way through. Also, Bruce is there.

This is The kid!Tim fic ever. Tim, having found a weird hole after a storm, decides to go exploring ignoring the fact that This Is Gotham and They Probably Have Cursed Stuff Down There.Luckily, it was just a cave system that spans the entire Gotham underground. Unluckily, Tim is a very curious child. Tim's a sorta eldritch being at the end?? Amazing, 100 would recommend.

In this, Tim finds out he isn't his parents' biological son. This changes everything. This changes nothing. Can't say anything else without spoiling, but I can't rec it enough.

In this fic, Bruce is back in time in Drake Manor, and meets baby Tim. It's like you're frozen in time, and all that matters is Bruce and his infant not-yet-son.

Here, Kon and Tim date. Tim's a cryptid stalker that refuses to be photographed, Dick is a big brother that loves his little brother, and it's cute.

Sorry it took me so long to compile this list anon, happy reading!

[pinkv-0-dka]

Media and information about Guilherme Taucci

For those who don't speak Portuguese and want to know more about the Suzano massacre and Guilherme

About Guilherme

Guilherme Taucci Monteiro was born on 07/05/2001 in the city of Mogi das Cruzes, in the interior of São Paulo.

He moved to Suzano at a very young age to live with his grandparents in the Jardim Imperador neighborhood.

He came from a humble family. At the age of 6 months, he began to be raised by his maternal grandparents, Benedito Luiz Cardoso and Arlete Taucci, because his parents, Tatiana Taucci and Rogério Machado Monteiro, were drug addicts. His mother already had a son before him, Victor, who was raised by his father's family. Years later, she gave birth to two girls, who lived with Taucci and his grandparents. In 2015, she had Vitória, who lives with her father.

He was a quiet boy until his teenage years. In 2017, he dropped out of his second year of high school at Raul Brasil, claiming he had no friends. Some people remember that he was not bullied, while others claim that he was teased because of the acne on his face and back – one of his biggest insecurities. Benedito even paid for him to get acne treatment. “He studied until his second year of high school, last year. Then he dropped out of school. He complained that people were making fun of the pimples on his face and back. They gave him embarrassing nicknames. I even paid for his [acne] treatment,” he recalled. He worked with his maternal uncle, Jorge Antonio Moraes, but was fired in 2017.

Antonio was not the only family member with whom Taucci had disagreements. Benedito stated that Guilherme had never drunk or used drugs, at least not in front of him, and used to say that he “wanted to burn all drug users”, referring to his parents. Taucci and his mother didn’t get along and rarely saw each other. His grandfather, relatives and people who knew Taucci all had good things to say about him and said it was impossible to imagine he would do something like that. His grandfather said, “He was a good boy, he didn’t have any drug problems and he never gave me any trouble.” Loving, obedient, passionate about games, polite, careful with his sisters – a 9-year-old girl and a 7-year-old girl – quiet and shy, these are adjectives he likes to describe his grandson. “If someone told me that, I would say it was a lie. He was always very polite, very reserved and very respectful. He was very fond of his grandfather. I can’t understand what could have caused such an outburst,” says his aunt Karina Morais. “They were normal boys (Luiz and Taucci). They said good morning, good afternoon, good night. They didn’t do drugs,” says driver Cássio Nogueira, 39, a neighbor who saw them grow up. “He always liked Nazism, gothic clothes and that emo fringe. The boys have fun with these things, it wasn't just him. My poor son,” says his mother. Benedito claims that Taucci had plans for his life.

Months after the massacre, he would turn 18 and Luiz Henrique de Castro's father had promised Taucci a job in the same position as his friend, cleaning and preserving squares in São Paulo. According to Benedito, he would earn R$1,400 per month and would receive food vouchers. He told his grandfather that he would give him the voucher to help with household expenses, since Benedito has a minimum retirement income. He also said that Taucci used to accept short-term jobs to buy games or other items online. The last job he supposedly got was at a hot dog stand, earning R$600.00.

Taucci’s grandmother passed away in December 2018. Benedito recalls that Guilherme seemed indifferent at first, but when asked if he wasn’t suffering the loss, he replied: “Grandpa, I felt it on the way.” On the morning of the attack, Guilherme left a burned photo on the floor of his room, which his mother recognized as being of him with the teenager’s father. Benedito also talks about his grandson’s behavior the day before the massacre, “Yesterday, when he came home from the street at night, I heated up dinner for him. Everything was fine,” Guilherme ate rice, beans and a hamburger. “He loved hamburgers.”

We can’t pinpoint the exact reasons for him carrying out a school shooting, since Benedito always gave him what he wanted: his computer, TV, internet and, as he has said several times, he seemed “fine” with his life. No one would ever know what they planned to do.

translation: pinkv0dka

sources: https://blogfamigerados.wordpress.com/2020/08/23/infancia-e-adolescencia-de-guilherme-taucci/