#HELLO JOVIE IT'S YOU AGAIN

[r7inyz]

"already answered 3 🥰 loser" GEE FINE SMH 6 and 7

OTHER ASK??????? do you love me or smth

/j

6- oh my god i have such a deep hatred for balloon boy and withered foxy. I can NEVER beat them in fnaf 2 I HATE THEM (yes I suck at the game)

7- I HAVE SO MANY uhhhhhhhh!!! fnaf 2, fnaf 4, sister location & pizzeria simulator and many others

[prozacwhorehouse]

cooper adams (the butcher) headcannons (sfw and nsfw)

first are just a few general ones bc I can’t really think of this man without it being nsfw🙈🙈

PLEASE go easy on me!! i have never written smut before so i hope it’s good 🙏🙏

barely proofread but readable

- probably an incredible cook. when he cooks, it comes out looking like a professionally made meal. id think it looks and tastes so perfect because he needs it to be perfect - probably throws it away if he adds so much as a grain to many of salt and starts over.

- listens to a lot of 80s music. from bon jovi and madonna to hall and oates and stevie nicks, he’ll always belt out to words in the worst singing voice you’ve ever heard in the car with the windows down, embarrassing riley and logan.

- house is always clean. bed always perfectly made, clothes neatly folded in drawers in colored order. (judging by the way we saw him fix that towel in the bathroom, everything at home needs to look perfect)

- we all know this already, but dad of the year!! fucking loves his kids. always attended riley’s tea parties, raced cars with logan.

- i can’t say that he loves his wife. he seemed more mad to get caught, more than it was his wife who sold him out and who he’d never see again. probably only still with rachel for his kids - he loves them too much and wouldn’t want to complicate their lives, which become complicated in a worse way when he’s caught.

- brings you little gifts all the time. maybe a book you’ve been talking about wanting to read, or a book he recommends to you. if you don’t know he’s the butcher, he’d bring the book to cure your boredom at work, or if you do know he’s the butcher, to keep you entertained while you’re locked in one of his houses 😕

nsfw headcannons 18+, minors dni!!

pretty much just filth

- hires hookers on the reg. like he just has an anger that he can’t show at home, so why not pay a woman to take it 😍on the other hand he’s probably killed multiple of them, couldn’t help himself

- probably wouldn’t kill you. would threaten you with the idea just to scare you, but he wouldn’t. he loves you, he needs you.

- you’re his and only his!! say hello to your new home (one of the houses he bought solely for the purpose of secretly keeping someone I mean you there)😜😜!!

- d word. you have to call him that he won’t accept anything else sorry!! he has control, like i said you belong to him

- brat!tamer through and through!!

- manhandles you he will throw you around on the bed no problem. flipping you on to your back, stomach, what not, moving you if the position you’re in isn’t quite up to his standards, he will move you with FORCE. you’re his toy and let’s be real you’re okay with that

- if youre annoying him he will grab you, throw you on the bed, hold you down, tie your wrists and ankles together, and a scarf is shoved in your mouth and tied harshly behind your head, and he’ll just leave you there. “be quiet,” he slams the door. he can hear your muffled cries from down the hall, but you were distracting him from his work so what other choice did he have than to punish you 🥴

- he’ll come back when he’s done working, could be hours later. he opens the door and you’re laying on the bed, eyes slowly falling shut above your tear streaked cheeks. he comes over and sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over to stroke your cheek with his thumb. your eyes flutter open, a small whimper escaping from around the scarf. “i hope you’ve learned your lesson. about distracting me while i work. now should i leave you here for, let’s say, another few hours, or are you going to be a good girl?” you sniffle and nod your head, he smiles and reaches out to pull the scarf down. he makes quick work of releasing your ties, caressing the chaffed marks left on your skin. “im sorry..” you start, your voice small. you sit on the edge of the bed and rub your wrists, refusing to look up at him - you’re almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t trying to upset you.” you hear him smooth out the bedspread behind you. “hey,” he stands in front of you now, holding your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, forcing you to look up at him. “it’s okay. but i need to be able to do my work if i want to keep us safe. you want to stay here with me, don’t you?” you nod, and he pulls you up to your feet. “there she is. let me finish up and then I’ll be in bed soon.” he kisses your forehead and you climb in bed sksjjdndbb

- aftercare is blessed! he’s sweet when he should be - he’ll spread your legs, lift them, do whatever to clean you up with a wet towel. it’s very intricate, he doesn’t miss a spot. hell come with a glass of water, which he holds to your lips for you to sip because he made your body JELLY and you really can’t move. he’ll get in bed and pull you onto his lap so you’re laying on him, legs hiked up on both sides of him. your arms are around his neck, and his hands rest comfortably on your torso. “you took your punishment so well. you’re such a good girl for me.” he’d whisper into your hair and then night night

- he is a serious dom, but there is a mommy kink in there somewhere. he just wants to be held and seen, things he never felt with his real mom. so sometimes you’ll take the reigns..he’s never been harder than when you call him your good boy 😩 and when you hold him?? stroke his hair, he is sat. the “maternal figure” tactic didn’t work on him when Lady Raven tried it, but it would work for you

- loves to hit it from behind. he likes being able to grip your waist so hard it bruises, wrap his hand around your neck to steady himself, grab a fistful of your hair to make you look back at him.

[atimeofyourlife]

The culture wars in your heart and your mind

Title from Kill the DJ by Green Day

It's not the first time he's seen Eddie go off on a tangent about the superiority of his interests. Honestly, it's far from it. The amount of times it had happened while they were both in high school, plus a number of times since they'd become friends. It was getting old. Hell, if it wasn't for knowing he'd be ridiculed for his interests at every turn, Steve might have tried to move beyond friendship with Eddie.

"You know it's just in your head, right?" Steve said, cutting Eddie off mid-rant.

"What?" Eddie replied, looking irritated at being interrupted.

"This whole my interests are better than yours, my music is better than yours schtick. Most of us don't really care that much about sticking to one genre. Sure I listen to pop, and I like Madonna and Tears for Fears and stuff like that. But I listen to rock, I love Bruce Springsteen, Queen, Van Halen, Bon Jovi. I'll even listen to stuff like Dio. You're the only one here that thinks one genre is superior to others."

"Don't even try to compare them. Tears for Fears can't even reach the complexity of Dio. And even trying to count Springsteen as rock, it's offensive to the genre." Eddie started off again, only to be interrupted by Robin this time.

"Just because you don't like something doesn't make it offensive. You're not the keeper of music or anything."

"Yeah. And why does music have to have complexity to be good? Can't it just be good because it sounds good." Steve pointed out. "And you claiming that Tears for Fears don't have complexity? Hello, Mad World? The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had? How can you say that doesn't have complexity."

"It's the principle of it." Eddie huffed. "The masses will listen to mindless pop, ignoring music that could actually make a difference."

"Just admit that you're wrong, dude. This is a culture war all in your mind."

just a mini fic based off a song 🤷 I might do more of these when I can't think of anything else to write

[hollywoodroses]

Forgive Me, Father (a jon bon jovi fan fiction)

(co-starring richie sambora as the reader’s best friend & slash as a therapist)

warnings: religion, age!gap, heavy smut including exhibitionism & daddy kink, mention of age!play. language, fem!slash and knife play. Minors, please DO NOT interact!

Please comment if I should write a sequel 🩵

It was Sunday morning, the day you dreaded. You look in the mirror as you put your hair in an up-do. Once you are finished you slide on a garter belt with a small knife under your skirt.

You had over heard that there was a new pastor at your church. You hoped that he at least had a nice smile as the last pastor was like a grandpa to you which made you gag.

A knock was heard at the door as you finished tying your blouse. You walked to the door, when you opened it you saw it was your best friend Richie. You had met him in your freshman year in high school and feel like brother and sister. He was always there to pick up the pieces and get you out of trouble. Now in your senior year, you were one warning away from expulsion.

“Hey, Richie”. You said with a smile.

“What are you up to, Y/N. I hope you are not about to cause trouble”.

Richie was always two steps ahead of you. It was like he could read your mind.

You laughed as you grabbed a jacket and joined Richie on the walk to church. Your parents volunteer there so you will meet them later.

Once you got closer to the church, you saw what looked like a young man. ‘Wait, he’s not young.’ you thought to yourself. ‘He looks like 40’.

“Fuck not again.” You cried as Richie laughed. “What is this? First an ancient old pastor, now one that just looks like a daddy? Fuck, my life”.

“Stop, bitch. Don’t even start”. Richie told you seriously as he rolled his eyes.

You put on a fake smile as you walked up to greet your new pastor.

When you got to the front door, you are surprised at how young and attractive the pastor is. You started to think dirty thoughts about him. You brushed it aside as it was your turn to greet him.

“Oh, hello. What is your name little lady”. He asked softly.

‘Fuck, his voice’. You thought to yourself.

“Y/N.”

“Well, It’s such a nice day for a chat with jesus. If you need to talk, confession is always open after hours. My name is Pastor Jon, by the way”. He explained to you.

You are sure he looked at the way you are dressed. Why else would he suggest you confess to him? It’s like he can see right through you.

*****

You took your seat next to Richie after saying ‘hi’ to your parents. You prefer to sit with your friends at the back of the room.

As Pastor Jon gave his sermon on the devil’s seduction and why it harms youth you started to fall asleep. You were thankful he couldn’t see you.

Richie nudged your shoulder and you suddenly decided to listen.

While listening to Pastor Jon you felt yourself get wet as your thoughts for him turned dirty. You are shocked that you would think such evil things about him, like how you wanted him to rail you roughly and treat you like a small child.

You couldn’t take looking at him anymore. When you left quietly and got to the restroom, you locked yourself in a stall and proceeded to remove your panties and touch yourself. As you were in your own little world you heard a girl walk into the restroom. In shock you quietly whispered ‘daddy’ and climaxed.

“Excuse you, someone’s excited.” She announced as she opened the toilet stall.

You are angry so you grab the knife that is in your garter belt and storm towards her.

“You bitch, you didn’t see anything here.” You said as you held the knife to her throat.

Taking your hand to ruffle through her hair, you put your hand on her face “You’re cute, do you know that?” As you were about to kiss her, you paused. You didn’t want to frighten her but there was so much built in sexual frustration you needed her.

Putting your hand around her neck, she made the first move and kissed you. As the kissing got heated, she put her knee against your bare clit that was under your skirt and rubbed against you. You moaned in her mouth and she used this opportunity to lick your tongue. Worried you both would get caught, you broke the kiss and saw that there was a string of saliva connected to your lips.

“Wow.” The girl muttered in shock. “You are incredible.”

You took a pen that was on the side of the sink and wrote your number on her wrist. “Call me.”

Leaving the restroom, rushing back so Richie wouldn’t worry too much about you.

*****

Back at home, you met with your new friend, Trixie. You wanted, no needed her advice on how to make a move on Pastor Jon.

Meeting his wife earlier that day, you felt jealousy towards her. Feeling like you wanted to rip her hair out. ‘Or maybe make her watch as you fucked her husband’. You think to yourself.

“I know what you can do…” Trixie explained as she whispered the possible dirty encounter in your ear.

“I love it!”

You pecked her lips to say a silent thank you. You will make your move on the Pastor after hours later that day.

*****

It is after hours as you entered the chapel. Confession time is open which means it’s time to make your move on Pastor Jon. Corrupt him as you share your deepest and darkest secrets. You smile wickedly as you walk over to the confessional booth.

You walked slowly to the booth and when peeking inside you saw your target. You opened the door to the booth and sat inside.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned. It’s my first confession. You see, I can’t stop thinking about you.” You confessed to Jon.

“I have this fantasy that you pull my hair and fuck the brat out of me”.

As you explained your feelings to him, your hand crept into your skirt and you began to finger yourself. “God, daddy. Don’t you see, I want you?”

Before you hit your climax, the door to the booth is opened with force and Pastor Jon pulls you by the arm in anger.

He pushes you against a near by wall with his hand around your neck. “I know you’ve been watching me, bitch. Are you seriously that needy”. He asked you as his hand rubbed up your leg and his fingers ended up drenched in your cum after he lightly touched your clit.

When Jon noticed his fingers were wet from your excitement, he looked at you seductively in the eyes as he licked his fingers clean. You gasped as you are shocked at his actions towards you.

As your hands moved to his pants you felt him suck a hickey on your neck. You closed your eyes as your body started heating up. You needed Pastor Jon inside you, suddenly you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers. You slowly rubbed your clit against his member and when you gave permission with a simple ‘yes’, he roughly pushed himself inside you. Your moans got louder as he f**ked the brat out of you like you wanted him to.

After a few moments in bliss, you heard the door open. “Y/N”. It was Richie calling for you. Jon put his hand around your mouth to silence you as you climaxed and squirted all over the floor. He had to hold you up or you would pass-out.

“What the hell is this?” A voice said as you ruffled your hair out of your face.

“Richie, he attacked me. He’s been obsessed with me since we met”. You explained to your friend.

“You…” Richie responded as he charged at the Pastor and punched him in the face for hurting you.

As the hussle happened, you put on Richie’s cardigan that was left on one of the pews.

When Richie was satisfied, he walked up to you and held you in an embrace as you both walked away.

“You, monster!” Pastor Jon, yelled. “You are the devils child.”

You turned back to look at him with an evil smile as you winked.

*****

That was a few weeks ago, you continued to go back to the Pastor and started an illicit love affair. You both kept it hidden for six months but after being caught by your mother this time. She saw you tied up and blindfolded to a desk. She felt you were disturbed, so your parents along with Richie’s support admitted you to a hospital where a doctor/therapist would do tests on why you had dark/sexual feelings towards your Pastor.

Today you are going to meet Dr. Hudson. He was newly graduated from university and doing his thesis on sexual obsession. The higher-up bosses felt that meeting you would be good for him.

You waited in a dark room that has a mirror on one side. You kept looking at your watch as time went by slowly. After what felt like hours, the door finally opened to reveal a young man with a serious expression.

When he looked at you, you started to feel dirty. Your mind had a million thoughts about him at once. One thought stood out from the rest and you decided to make it a reality when the time is right.

“Hello Miss. Y/LN, my name is Dr. Hudson but you can call me Saul. You made your family a bit worried. For the next few months, my team and I will be doing some tests on you. No need to be frightened, you’ll be good as new once I am finished with you”.

You shook your head as you swear you saw him smile. Does me know what you are thinking?

You decided to say ‘Fuck it’ as you made your move.

While Dr. Hudson was sitting on a chair, you walked up to him and proceeded to sit in his lap. “I’m all yours.” You told him as you smiled. You slowly tilted your head as you moved your lips closer and you lightly kissed his neck. When you heard him drop his notepad, you know you have him in the palm of your hand. You smiled at him as you moved to kiss his lips and as he put his hands around your waist the kiss deepened and you used this opportunity to suck on his tongue. You felt yourself get wet, you were dripping with excitement as you completely forgot about your obsession with Pastor Jon.

******

Meanwhile, Jon knew you are dangerous and he worried for his family’s safety from you.

One night he and his wife quietly left home and boarded a plane to New Zealand where he knew you would never find them. Or would you?

the end

[mickmars-bbg]

❥ ❝ i'll be there for you . ❞

FTM!JON BON JOVI , AND FTM!DOM!READER .

SMUT INCLUDES ; BREEDING KINK , DEGRADATION , PRAISE , CHOKING . USE OF THE WORD CUNT TO DESCRIBE PARTS .

DONT LIKE ANY OF THESE THINGS ? DONT READ .

WRITTEN BY A TRANS AUTHOR .

it was an extremely hot afternoon . way too hot , humid too , for what you were doing at that moment . you were outside watching your boyfriend and his band play .

you watched intently , taking in all his features . long brown hair with some curls to it . brown eyes lit up like the sun as he played . you know he really enjoyed playing with the band .

you can tell the band is almost done with their jamming session , watching as the sweat drips off of them , but your focus stays on jon . his shirt was off and you could see his skin glistening with sweat from the outdoor heat . his top surgery scars were barely visible now and you were happy for him .

eventually the music comes to a stop . you snap out of your trance , seeing the members of the band begin to pack up their items .

at that moment , you notice your boyfriend jon walk over to you . you quickly wave with a smile .

❝ hello , my love . ❞

he says , smiling back to you .

❝ i saw you staring , yknow . ❞

you hesitantly nod , your face flushing a shade of light pink . you suddenly have the urge to touch him . to place your hand on his sweat gleamed chest and touch his top surgery scars . so you do , gently , incase you would hurt him . his smiles widens at the gesture .

❝ do you want something , my love ? ❞

he asks you , watching as you move your hand back down to your side . the tone of his voice makes you feel weak in the knees and your head spin . boy , did you love him .

you nod quickly , grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward his house where they were practicing outside of . he lets you lead him into the house and immediately after you two are inside and the door is shut , you push him against the wall .

you put your arms on either side of him , caging him in . since you were taller than him this was easy to do . he looks up at you , making eye contact . his eyes seem to be pleading at you .

you lean down a bit , pressing your lips against his chapped ones . almost instantly he returns the kiss . after about a minute of on and off kissing , you slide your tongue into his mouth . he whines at the sensation of it and you smile into the kiss .

you pull away , wanting to take things further . you once again grab his wrist , leading him toward his room . once inside you gently push him onto the black bedding .

you walk closer to where he was on the bed , climbing onto it and then sitting next him . next you pull your own top off , revealing your binder , but you left that on .

next , you slowly climb on top of him , sitting on legs . he looks up at you again , a goofy smile on his face . he was already out of it just from a few small touches .

you place your hand on his jeans and pull them down , revealing his boxers . you smile again at the sight of the wet spot on them .

❝ aww , youre already so wet for me . so pretty . ❞

you coo at him , smirking . he gives another whine at the praise , bucking his hips up into you . you begin to grind down into him , earning more whines .

❝ such slut , making such pretty noises for me . ❞

you tell him . he then grabs the hem of his boxers and attempts to pull them down , you help him . you can see hes soaking wet , just from your touch .

❝ please . ❞

he moans out , begging you to touch his aching cunt . you reach your hand out and begin making small circles on his clit . he moans again , tears pricking at his eyes from how good it felt . he hadnt been touched for weeks .

next , you move your fingers away from his clit and to the entrance of his cunt . you slowly push a finger in , earning a loud whine in response at the intrusion . you move your finger out , then push it back in , trying to make it go as deep as it can .

he lets out more needy moans as you finger him , adding another finger . you begin to make scissoring motions , stretching him out .

❝ fffuck , more ! ❞

his voice is high pitched and shaky .

❝ hm ? you want more in your pretty little cunt ? huh , good boy ? ❞

he nods , placing his arm over his eyes .

❝ nope . you have to look at me . ❞

you say , pulling his arm back down with your unoccupied hand . you add a third finger . next thing you know , he basically screams out your name .

❝ found it . ❞

you say , the smirk returning to your face . you can tell hes getting close . you keep pressing up against that special spot , and then hes spilling all over your fingers .

❝ good boy , cumming for me just from my fingers . ❞

[growup-thatbeautiful]

bullet proof… i wish i was

Tags: Kid fic, Canon Typical Violence, Ex-husband Tangerine, Ex-Assassin Reader, Getting Back Together, Soft Tangerine, Mutual Pining, Tangerine Bullet Train, Tangerine x Reader, Tangerine x You

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Blood, Violence, Heavy Cursing

Summary: You and Tangerine have been separated for a few years for the sake of your daughter, Jovie, but when trouble comes, there's only one person to turn to.

Word Count: 8k

A/n: if you want to be added to a taglist for this universe, let me know and i will happily oblige! enjoy my tangerine brainrot :))

Bullet Train Masterlist

chapter one: you have turned me into this

Your heels tap against the marble flooring as you make your way through the crowd of guilty people, the chandelier above you casting an ethereal glow over scared faces and expensive clothing. You keep your head down and hope that none of them are looking at your face too closely. The steel countertop of the bar is cool underneath the tips of your fingers when you order a drink and take a careful sip, your eyes flitting around the room for a certain face. Once you have him in your sights, it doesn't take much to convince him to come over and say hello. The way the silk of your dress contours perfectly around your figure can't hurt.

"Hi," you say, your voice floating through clouds and shaking the walls. Or is it just you who's shaking? The man doesn't answer and instead chooses to signal for the bartender, who nods and starts fixing a drink.

"The usual," the man croaks, his voice weak and failing. It makes you want to go home to the family waiting for you, into the arms of someone who loves you. There's a reason that you can't, but you don't remember it. You just know what you have to do now.

“So, angelface, are you going to tell me how you got here? I think I would remember inviting someone like you.” The man doesn’t recognize you, which is good. None of this would work if he knew who you are and what you’re here for.

“I have an invitation,” you lie, glancing around you and shifting your weight. If he’s paying as much attention to your form as he seems to be then he’s going to notice immediately how obvious you’re being.

“Strange, I didn’t take you for a liar.” He runs a greasy hand along the top of your arm and leans in closer to you, a sick smile on his face.

“I didn’t think you were smart enough to notice. Color me impressed, Sir.” You plant a hand on your hip and twirl a finger through your hair, grinning at him like you’re remotely interested in his sad eyes.

“Thanks. Look, hun. You’re way out of your zone here. This isn’t the path for a pretty girl like you.” He brings his hand up to your face, stroking a sweaty hand over your cheek. Like that’s ever calmed you down.

“Oh, sure it is.” you grab his wrist. “There are plenty of pretty girls getting up to no good. And those are only the ones that I know about and the ones you decide are good enough for a second fuck. But there’s a little more to the story this time. See, I’ve always loved my job, but it doesn’t really allow any room for what I need. I guess you could call it an occupational hazard, but I’ve been trying to change that if you would let me. I have a feeling that you’re going to listen to me.” You can feel the bones under his wrist. The way their ancient architecture creaks and groans under strain.

The beautiful snap of his wrist. Pain lit up in his eyes. Surprise written on his face. “Now. You’re never going to underestimate an angry woman or a protective mother again. I recommend you start listening to me closely and looking into my eyes instead of somewhere else.”

You wake up with a sob. Those memories have haunted you since the moment they happened, an error in judgment, an eclipse against the rest of your life. The things you did to protect the little girl sleeping soundly in the room next to you.

It’s half of a memory, not even getting to the worst part of that evening. Or the nights you spent afterward, cradling yourself against the cold spray of the shower and insistently scraping your skin against a washcloth to get the blood off.

It isn’t the violence that haunts you. God knows you’ve seen enough of that to last a lifetime. No, you don’t bat an eye at the blood that was shed that night, that’s never bothered you.

It’s what came afterward. The fighting, the leaving, the tears that you don’t usually shed. You had put your daughter, Jovie, in the backseat and taken her away from one of the two people who loved her to the end of the earth. It’s not like you had a choice, or at least that’s the easier way to think about it. For Jovie’s sake, you had to get out of that life, and you couldn’t have done that any other way.

But the way you hurt Tangerine back then still hurts you every time you think about it. It’s almost unbearable, to know that you’re the reason why he lives alone in a house that was meant to be filled with pictures of you and Jovie that now has impersonal empty white walls.

With a sigh, you throw the sweat-soaked sheets off to the side and walk into the bathroom that’s adjacent to your bedroom. Your hands shake when your turn the sink on you run your sweaty palms underneath the cool water, and you splash some onto your face. From experience, you know you probably won’t get back to sleep anytime soon tonight, so you might as well get some work done. Maybe with the extra time, you can pick up Jovie early from school one day and take her to the ice cream parlor she likes. There’s no better way to spend your time than with her anyway.

You slip some socks onto your feet and make your way across the hardwoods into your kitchen, where your laptop is waiting at the table. Instinctively, you go to the kettle sitting on the stove and start boiling some water, your mind on autopilot. Next, you grab a cup and some sugar, get some milk from the fridge, and try your hardest to calm your heartbeat. The whistling of the kettle is a soothing balm against your racing thoughts.

You don’t know how many times you’ve had the same dream, but usually, you make it further before you wake up. Maybe it’s finally starting to go away, but you doubt it. You’re honestly not sure that it’s something you’ll ever stop terrorizing yourself over.

The kettle’s whistling reaches an insistent point and you carefully pour the tea into the waiting cup. Once it’s cool enough to move, you settle into the kitchen table that’s closest to the window and open your laptop, where emails and research await.

Right when you’ve finally gotten into a good rhythm of your work, a noise from the hallway interrupts your thoughts. The hinges of your front door creak and strain, something you’ve been meaning to fix for a while, but right now you’re happy that you haven’t. Slowly, you reach for the gun that’s sitting behind the plant on the window and load it methodically, glancing over towards Jovie’s room and praying that she’s still asleep. The floorboards creak underneath the person’s feet and you steel yourself for what’s coming, whatever it is.

“Do you ever go anywhere besides your kitchen table, love? Should I be worried about your work addiction?” You see a familiar silhouette against the refrigerator light holding his hands up in the air.

Lowering the gun and putting it off to the side, you say, “Sure. Just let yourself right in. I’m sure Jovie would love to find you here in the middle of the night.”

“Jovie’s still awake?” Tangerine asks hopefully. You roll your eyes against his response, but there’s no actual malice in your actions. It’s endearing, how excited he gets to see her, even when you know he’s been on a mission for at least a week.

“No, she’s asleep, but you can go see her. If you wake her, you’re going to deal with it in the end, though, because she’s supposed to be going over to your house tomorrow anyway,” you warn. You don’t think it sends the right message, though, because he grins and raises his eyebrows at you.

“You still have to deal with her in the morning,” he grins, taking off down the hall. You know better than to try and stop him when he’s trying to go see Jovie, especially when he’s been gone.

He’s never told you, but you know that he misses her when he’s gone, but you imagine that it’s worse than how you miss her. When you’re gone, you know you’ll come back safely most of the time. Sure, what you’re doing for a living is technically illegal, but you’re not in immediate danger as frequently as he is.

So, when he comes over in the middle of the night asking to see Jovie, hardly able to stand with bloodshot eyes, you give him time with her for as long as he needs.

You remember how it used to be, when you were both working. It was hell, trying to balance everything; going on jobs and finding someone to watch Jovie, spending as much time as possible with her when you weren’t on a job, and trying to maintain some semblance of a relationship with Tangerine.

At some point, it all just collapsed in on itself. You had to get out of the job, and the only way to do that came with consequences that you’re still facing today.

You don’t think Tangerine can look at you without seeing the person that snuck away in the middle of the night with his daughter. And you can’t blame him one bit, even if he won’t say it to your face. You know if he did that to you, you wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye. Maybe he’s just a better liar than you or a better person. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell.

You can’t tell how long it’s been, sitting at your computer and waiting for Tangerine’s telltale footsteps, but eventually, he comes back and sits down next to you. Silently, without looking up from your laptop, you push your tea across the wooden surface towards him and he accepts it gratefully.

“You still make your tea like shit,” he complains, grimacing at the taste. “It’s like drinking fucking sugar water.”

“Then stop drinking it, Tan,” you sigh, but there’s a fondness that you can’t stop from creeping into your voice. “Just because you like being dark and broody doesn’t mean we all do. Some of us like being happy.”

“I can be perfectly fucking happy without your sugary excuse for caffeine,” Tangerine defends, leaning back into his chair. “Now do you want the information I got you, or not?”

You nod and pull up the folder you’ve been keeping information for your current job in. It’s scarily scarce, and this is one of the hardest assignments you’ve been given in a while. Gathering information on The White Death was hard enough when you could openly travel the world, and now with Jovie, it’s even harder.

Ever since you stopped going on actual jobs where you were part of the physical fight, you’ve been gathering information for the assassins like Tangerine and Lemon before jobs. It comes with perks, like the ability to work from home most of the time, but you can’t deny that you miss the excitement that you used to face almost daily.

For the next hour, Tangerine tells you everything he learned on the job and you carefully take notes. It’s a system you worked out as soon as you realized that the two of you would have to relearn how to coexist with each other for Jovie’s sake. In exchange, you give him everything you have on whatever his next job will entail, because, as scared as he is that he’s not going to come home one day, you’re terrified every time he leaves that he’s going to decide that it isn’t worth it. He’ll realize when he wakes up one morning that he could be anywhere in the world with anyone he wants, and you’re just not worth the effort.

Not that you would ever tell him that. Instead, you keep him through the flimsy excuse of work and information, hoping that, along with Jovie, it’s enough to keep him by your side.

Because you’re unexplainably selfish when it comes to him. Yes, you’re the one who left, but you can’t bear to think about him being happy with someone else.

So, for as long as he lets it continue, you’ll sit at the kitchen table for him in the middle of the night and listen to him talk, his accent lulling you to a sense of false domesticity that will shatter when he gets up to go home.

Tomorrow morning, Jovie will wake up and tell you all about how Tangerine visited her in the middle of the night, and he’ll be gone again, back to his own home where you thought you would raise Jovie with him.

But that’s something to worry about tomorrow. For now, you can sit here and take notes with an excuse to stare at Tangerine while he talks.

And what a sight he is, with his hair falling in front of his eyes, his blue-grey eyes shining in the lowlight of the moon shining through the window. His ringed fingers are drumming against the table as he talks, blood underneath his nails. Before he came in, he must have taken his suit jacket off, because he’s left in a blue pinstriped vest and a white undershirt, both speckled with blood. It outlines the broad expanse of his shoulders and the chain around his neck glints in and out of your sight.

“Do you want to spend the night?” you interrupt, shutting your laptop. Upon seeing the confused look on his face, you start rambling. “I know you probably want to get home- you’ve been gone a while- but it’s late and I’m sure Jovie would love to have you here in the morning. That way you don’t have to come get her later.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he agrees. “And I really don’t want to drive even more tonight, so I might take you up on the offer.”

“Okay,” you say, hiding a smile behind your hand. “You can shower in the guest room, I’ll get sheets on the bed.”

“Don’t go to the trouble, love. I’ll be happy with whatever.” You shake your head and get up, heading for the closet where you keep extra bedding. When you hand a pair of clean, white sheets with red polka dots, he takes them from you with a quiet, “Thanks.”

You lead him to the guest room, flipping light switches on and making sure the bathroom is adequately stocked. “I’ll be right back,” you say, heading to your room and rifling through one of your drawers until you come up with a maroon t-shirt that’s been in the back of your drawer for ages. It’s worn and faded, with holes in the collar and a white stain on the hem. You don’t know if Tangerine has even noticed that you’ve had it all this time, but you haven’t been able to convince yourself to give it back.

Back in the guest room, you hand him the t-shirt and he silently hands you his suit vest and collared shirt, which you take into the laundry room and spray with something to get the stains out. It’s a routine that you two perfected a long time ago, before things were so messed up, so it’s nice to see how some things still stay the same. The sound of the shower starting lets you know that he’ll be out in a few minutes, and a familiar sense of dread fills you. What happens now? Do you tell him goodnight and wait to deal with it in the morning or are you supposed to sit up with him and exchange polite conversation that will only hurt you in the end.

It ends up being neither. You’re sitting back at the kitchen table, pretending to look at your computer, when he shuffles down the hall, wearing boxers and the t-shirt.

“Is this mine?” he asks, gesturing at his shirt. “I’ve been fucking looking for this.” You know he hasn’t because he never liked this shirt, but your ears burn red at the accusation, however well meaning.

“It might be,” you deflect. “Do you need any food?” Tangerine moves to sit across from you at the table. His hair away from his face when he leans back and closes his eyes. He doesn’t look convinced at your defense, but he lets it slide with raised eyebrows.

“No, I stole some crisps on the way home.” You’re not surprised.

“You have a talent, Tan,” you tease lightly, shutting your computer. “You need to teach Jovie one of these days.”

“She can do better than petty thieving, have higher hopes for our girl.” Our girl rings through your mind. You doubt he even knows the impact of what he says, like he usually doesn’t.

You don’t really know what to say, so, “I’m sure she’s got your knack for finding something worthwhile to do,” is what you end up replying.

“A man can dream,” Tangerine sighs. You realize how late it is and how tired he must be, which you can see by the darkness underneath his eyes.

“As much as I would love sitting up with you, I think it might be a proper time to go to bed,” you admit softly. He looks at you with a strange look in his eye and nods slowly, matching your actions when you stand up.

“Goodnight, Tangerine.” You’re standing across from him, unable to cross the distance between the two of you, both physical and mental. It would be so easy, so instinctive, to fold yourself into his arms like you used to all those years ago. It’s alarming how deep the desire to do it runs through you, and you chalk it up to the nightmare that you and earlier.

“Goodnight, love. I’ll see you in the morning.” Those words, from him, are achingly distant to what they used to mean, but they fill the crack in your heart with a blooming flower of some unnamed emotion.

It stays with you when you crawl into bed and it has you looking forward to the morning, whatever it brings.

*

The sound of singing wakes you up much more gently than the nightmare did. It’s loud and boisterous and completely off-key, and you recognize it immediately, just like you would recognize anything about him.

You force yourself out of the warmth of your bed and throw on the first clothes that you find, a pair of black leggings and a deep green sweater with countless holes. A look in the mirror tells you that the bags under your eyes reflect the late hours of last night, but you don’t feel like doing anything about it right now. It can’t be worse than the other states of disarray Tangerine has seen you in before.

The bedroom door closes shut quietly behind you as you walk down the hall, and the sight that you’re met with is both concerning and heartwarming.

Standing at the stove in his now spotless suit from last night is Tangerine, his hair in its usual slick back style. Your kitchen is a mess, with flour all over the cabinets and countertops and a towel is thrown over his shoulder. He’s bent over the stove, watching a pan intently as smoke rises to the ceiling.

Jovie is sitting at the kitchen table watching, her brown curls a messy hall around her head. It’s the same as her father’s, something that he takes great pride in. She has your eyes, but hers are full of hope.

You make your way over to where Tangerine is standing and lean against the counter across from him, watching with amusement as he fiddles with your burner. “Bastard,” he mutters under his breath, trying again to light the stove. “Fucking bastard.”

“Let me help you,” you laugh, sidling up next to him and pushing the knob in before turning it. “It gets stuck sometimes, you just have to force it a tad.”

“S’that right? Well, someone’s going to have to fix that. I wouldn’t want the world deprived of your cooking,” he deadpans, a glint in his eye.

“Fuck off,” you say under your breath, glancing at Jovie to see her utterly occupied with the spoon and bowl. “I haven’t poisoned anyone yet with my cooking.”

“That was on purpose,” he defends easily. “And I don’t think they’re quite the brag you think it is, love. Jovie-“

“-come on, don’t bring the poor girl into this-“

“-how do you think your mom’s cooking is?” His grin is wide and dagger-sharp as he looks at Jovie, who’s staring wide-eyed and helpless at the wills of Tangerine’s smile.

“Mommy makes dinner all the time,” she says, looking at you.

“Thank you, baby,” you sing, smiling at her and sticking your tongue out at Tangerine. He frowns at your childish display and turns his attention to Jovie with soft eyes.

“I beg your pardon, Jovie, but why don’t you tell Mommy the truth?”

You sigh, having accepted your dare a long time ago as someone who’s talents lau outside of the kitchen. “Go ahead.”

“Sometimes your food tastes yucky,” Jovie says slowly, her head tilted to the side as she waits for your reaction.

“Well, I’m trying my best,” you defend, but you don’t take any of it personally. You’re happy, at least, that Jovie’s being honest with you, which is more than a lot of parents can say. This day was bound to come.

“I’m sure you are,” grins Tangerine, giving Jovie a cheesy thumbs up before returning to his cooking. “That’s why I’m going to handle breakfast this morning.”

And he does, without complaint, grinning and cracking jokes the whole time. It feels like he belongs here, sandwiched in your tiny kitchen with Jovie sitting at the table and laughing.

He brings two plates full of various breakfast items and a bowl for Jovie with grilled tomatoes, her favorite. You eat in comfortable silence, filled occasionally by Jovie’s chatter.

“Can I have that?” Tangerine asks, looking hopefully at you. He’s pointing towards your tomato, which you really had planned on eating, but you give in to his pleading eyes.

“So now you’re a gentleman?” you tease, shoveling your food onto his plate.

“Love, I’m always a gentleman.” He takes your food happily and shares with Jovie, talking with her about school and her friends while bringing you into the conversation.

It’s so easy to forget, in moments like these, why you ever left, but things can come crashing down when Tangerine has to leave.

“We should be off,” he admits softly. “I wouldn’t want to take up more of your time.”

“Okay,” you agree, but your smile feels wrong and tight. You want so badly to tell him that you’d rather be here than anywhere else as long as he’s here. “Jovie, baby, are you ready to go to Daddy’s house?”

“I need Murphy to come with me,” Jovie says, and you smile at her before going to her room to grab her favorite stuffed bear. It’s something that Tangerine got her on one of his trips, this time to New York. The stuffed bear is wearing a red guard’s uniform and a top hat, affectionately missing one shoe with faded colors. It’s laying on her bed, shoved beneath her pillows and blankets, and you double check the rest of her room to make sure that there’s nothing else she’ll need.

“Here’s Murphy.” You hand her the bear and Jovie accepts it happily with a hug and a pat on the head. She gives you a hug and a messy kiss on the cheek before going over to stand with Tangerine.

“Jovie-love,” Tangerine says, calling your daughter by his favorite endearment, “Say another goodbye to your mom, you’ll see her again in a few days.” Jovie nods obediently and looks at you again.

“Bye-bye, Mommy.”

“Bye, Jovie. I’ll see you soon, Tan.” Tangerine nods his goodbye to you before taking Jovie’s hand in his own and leading her down the hall and out the front door. You see them out the window as Tangerine buckles Jovie’s seatbelt and taps her on the nose with a soft smile.

You watch his car drive away until you can’t see it anymore.

Days without Jovie go by uneventfully, with not much distinction between the hours, and the next few are no exception.

But now, you have more than Jovie to look forward to. You have Tangerine too, however short your interaction may be. Because he’s always been a bright spot for you, even when you don’t get to bask in his sunlight every day. You’ll take whatever you can get, however small, because anything is more than you deserve.

Especially because you’re the one who ruined all of it in the first place.

*

After a long day of interviews and field work, you just want to go home. Jovie’s with her babysitter Mary because Tangerine had to take care of something with Lemon, which is an unfortunately common occurrence.

The drive home is painful and irritating, and it seems like everything is trying to push you over the edge. You have to keep reminding yourself that Jovie is waiting for you at home; sweet, loving Jovie whose face lights up when she sees you walk into a room. She’s back at your flat now, from when Tangerine dropped her off earlier today, which is good, because you don’t know what you would do if she wasn’t there. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to have much of a conversation with him because everything had been rushed.

Finally, finally you make it to your flat, where you can’t seem to find a parking spot quick enough to satisfy your desire to be finished with today.

When you walk through the door, you’re met with a silence that puts you on edge. There’s no blaring kids television program or the sound of Jovie playing with her toys, or even the soft lull of Mary reading her to sleep.

“Jovie? Baby?” You walk faster through the apartment, paranoia taking over. When you turn the corner, a gasp lodges itself in your throat and your hand comes up to cover your mouth.

It’s a cinematic scene. Your big-eyed Jovie, standing, covered in blood. The homey glow of the broken lamps cast shadows across the mangled corpse in front of her. Jovie isn’t moving, simply standing there, red spreading across her truck pajama pants.

“Jovie, honey, come here.”

“You always say not to get my pajamas messy.”

“I know, love, but this is more important right now. It’s okay, I understand.” You hold out your arms, knees on the ground, soaking in the pool of blood. “Please, baby, just walk towards me and everything will be okay.” She dutifully takes a step, walking straight into the mass of blood.

“Shit, Jovie, stay there, I’m coming to get you.” The blood is warm against your feet as you pass through it. She looks at you with her big eyes and you feel the tears threatening to overflow. You don’t have time for this now; you can always cry about it later in the shower.

“You said a bad word. Daddy says bad words sometimes when he thinks I’m not there.” Despite wariness, Jovie climbs into the waiting arms, holding on. She leaves ripples in the growing mass of blood when she walks.

“Yeah, that sounds just like him. How about we go into the kitchen-“

“For juice pops?” interrupts Jovie, oblivious to the violence around her. You wish that you feel surprised at the continued glimpses of the fight. A broken plate on the floor, a red smear on the white cabinets, and a drawer pulled out of the island.

“For juice pops,” you confirm, opening the freezer for an, ironically, red popsicle. “What color do you want?”

“Blue,” she says decidedly. You grab one of the first ones you see and unwrap it with your teeth, handing it to her. She takes it happily and you push her up higher onto your hip.

“How about we call daddy? I think he can help us.” The thing is, you know how to deal with this on your own. You’ve talked about it with Tan more times than you can count, but this is so much harder than planning for it. “Can you go grab your backpack from the closet? Mommy’s going to go get her own bag and we’ll call him from the car.”

She mumbles okay as you put her down and she heads dutifully down the hall to her room. You would rather be close to her, but time is essential at the moment. The only thing running through your mind is getting Jovie somewhere safe, no matter how you do it.

You rush down the hall and grab the gray duffel bag from the corner of your closet. Quickly, you go through the contents and make sure that you have everything you might need. Yours and Jovie’s passports, some first aid materials, a few extra weapons, and a change of clothes are the main items that you have to make sure are in the bag.

Once you’ve double-checked everything, you throw the duffel onto the bed and grab the extra bullets that you keep in your top drawer, shoving them into your back pocket along with the small gun that you keep in the bathroom.

“Jovie, honey, are you ready to go?” you call, waiting for a reply. She yells a muffled response back at you, which you take as an okay. You don’t really have enough time to contemplate it anyway.

As fast as you can, you scoop up Jovie’s bag from her arms and grab one of her hands in yours. She’s clutching Murphy close to her chest, the bear squished tightly against her. The hallway seems to be clear when you check it for any threats, and, thankfully, Jovie stays silent until she’s safely buckled into her seat. Part of you hopes that she can tell how serious the situation is, how dire it is that you make it to somewhere safer.

The slam of the car door rings in your ears as you pull out of the carpark, as does the heavy sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Mommy? Is Mary dead?” asks Jovie, staring at you from the backseat with eyes just like yours. You grip the steering wheel tighter between your fingers and let out a slow exhale.

“Yeah, baby. Mary’s dead.” You don’t know what else to say, so you let silence fill the car. After you’re far enough away, you pull the car to the side of the road and turn the lights off. To anyone passing by, they won’t see you unless they’re looking.

“What are we doing here?” Jovie’s voice is high-pitched and scared, and you brace yourself for the feeling of tears pricking your eyes. When Jovie cries, usually you’re able to be the calm one, but you don’t know if you can be that person right now.

“We’re just resting for a minute.” The words are hard to get out and you lean forward against the steering wheel, taking a breath with your head in your hands.

“Because it’s dark out?” Any other time, you would happily answer all of Jovie’s questions and more, but you need to think right now. But you also don’t think that it’s a good idea to shift Jovie’s mind to anything that could lead to her thinking more about what happened.

“Jovie, honey, do you think you can let me call Daddy? We need to make sure that it’s okay for us to go over to his house.” Jovie nods and looks out the window quietly, tracing the passing houses with her finger.

You pull up your phone and select Tangerine’s name from the top of your contacts, but you don’t connect it to the car speaker. Jovie’s been through enough. While you wait, you pull back onto the road and start heading in the direction of Tangerine’s house.

It feels like the dial tone rings forever while you wait for him to answer. It goes to voicemail and you bang your hand against the steering wheel, biting back a curse and some tears. The beep for a voicemail sounds and you start talking before you can consider anything else. “Tan, we’re heading to your flat now. There’s-there’s a problem. I have Jovie with me now, just- please be home. Please fucking be home, I don’t know what to do. I’m scared, Tangerine, and I don’t know how Jovie’s going to cope with this. I came home and there was blood on the floor, and Mary was on the floor. I don’t think we can go back there for a while, maybe ever. I have some things with me, and I have my gun, but I- I don’t think it’s safe still. Just, please answer me whenever you get this. Please, Tan.” You end the call and throw your phone to the side, running a hand through your hair.

When you look back at Jovie through the rear view mirror, she’s fast asleep, her head tucked against the top of her car seat. Your heart melts at the state of her. The curls on her head are rowdy and unruly, and you realize now that she’s still in her pajamas. The blue truck patterned pants are stained at the ankles with deep blood, and you have to fight not to pull over again and clean her up.

From its spot in the passenger seat, your phone rings loudly, and you reach across for it with one hand on the steering wheel. “Hello?”

“Love, are you almost here? I fucking swear, I’m about to drive to you myself. How is Jovie doing?” The tension and the anger in his voice somehow make yours melt away a little. It feels like you can breathe, knowing that he’s there waiting for you.

“I’m five minutes away. And Jovie’s asleep right now.”

“Fuck,” he swears. “Mary’s dead?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what we’re going to do about that. She doesn’t have any family, and as far as I know Jovie was the only one she sat for, so that’s ideal I guess.” It’s easier like this, to remember how you’re supposed to respond in situations like this. He’s always made things so much easier for you; your focus pinpoints on Jovie’s safety with the help from his voice.

“I’ll get someone to go over there and clean up. I’ll have things ready for you and Jovie when you get here.”

“Okay,” you agree quietly. “We’re pulling into your neighborhood now.” Like clockwork, Jovie's head snaps up when you pull into Tangerine’s driveway. You’ve never made it to his house without her waking up at the very last moment. It’s endearing on good days and frustrating on the rest, but now you’re just happy that she’s still with her normal routine.

The car rolls to a stop in front of the house and you park the car before stepping out and unbuckling Jovie. Both of the bags are carried in your arms, along with Jovie’s little hand in your own. You stop on the edge of the driveway, looking at Tangerine. You honestly don’t know what to do now that you’re standing in front of him, yearning for the safety of his arms but not knowing if you’re allowed.

“Come here,” Tangerine says. You don’t move. There’s an edge to his voice that you haven’t heard before. Something consequential. Something desperate. “Please.” He says it so quietly and with such little conviction. Like he knows you’ll say no.

Jovie goes first. And you have no choice but to follow her little footsteps until your in his arms. Once you’re there, you can’t remember why you ever wanted to be anywhere else. Slowly, like he’s going to let go at any moment, you wrap your arm around him and clutch the back of his suit in your hand, pulling yourself into him.

He’s so warm and solid against you, his suit jacket soft and welcome against your cheek. It makes you think of how things used to be, when you could come home together to this very house and let yourself bask in his presence.

Those days are gone, but the ghost of them remains in this depraved picture of a family hug: Josie’s blood splattered feet, your shaking hands and blood-dyed shirt, Tangerine’s immaculate suit and slick back hair.

Eventually, you have to let go and walk inside, dropping your bags off at the front door and crowding Jovie into the living room. Tangerine tells you that you should go wash up, and dimly, you agree, walking absentmindedly to the bathroom and stripping down.

It’s not until the warm spray of the water is hitting you that you realize you’re in his bathroom, the one that you used to share when Jovie was a baby.

Instinct had taken over and sent you right back to the past, when you were Tangerine's wife and Jovie’s mother at the same time. Strange, how different things are now.

Now, you’re washing blood off, which isn’t necessarily new, but you’re alone and thinking about the similar blood that covers your beautiful Jovie.

*

You’re wearing his shirt when you walk out. It used to be your favorite one, worn thin and soft from use, light blue fabric falling to your thighs. You always forget just how tall he is until you’re forced, in moments like this, to remember.

“Jovie’s asleep. I didn’t put her in her room because of the windows, so she’s in the room next door on the couch. Lemon’s on his way over,” Tangerine explains softly, coming over to hand you a towel for your hair, an old habit that neither of you even acknowledges.

“Thanks,” you reply just as quietly like somehow you’ll wake Jovie up from here. “Is she okay? Did you wash her feet off?” It almost seems trivial, to be asking if your daughter didn't go to sleep with blood-covered feet, but it matters to you.

“Yeah, love, I did. Are- are you okay?”

You let out a laugh that sounds too much like a sob and sit on the corner of the bed. “I came home to find our daughter surrounded by blood, which we have a plan for, a plan that I didn’t follow.”

“You made a judgment call. There’s nothing wrong with that, we have to do it all the time,” he comforts. Before you can reply with more negativity, he comes over and puts his hands on your shoulders, cupping your neck. Carefully, he tilts your head up to look him in the eyes. He’s towering over your sitting figure, but it’s far from intimidating. For a moment, you let yourself get lost in his presence, in his comfort.

He’s always been a source of comfort for you, even when you’re not with him. He’s a safety net to fall into during times like these, and you’re falling hard.

“I think it’s my fault,” you whisper, shutting your eyes. “I should have been there sooner. She’s going to have nightmares now. Tan, what if I’ve fucked her up? This is why I stopped, and now it doesn’t matter, she’s going to have these memories of blood and pain and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

He waits patiently for you to finish before shaking his head against your thoughts. “We knew something like this could happen. It’s as much my fault as it is yours, if it’s your fault at all, You’ve tried your best to protect her from this as long as she’s been alive.”

“I could have done more.”

“So could I, but we didn’t. However,” he continues, “Jovie’s okay. She’s safe now. You know that, right? M’not going to let anything happen to the two of you.”

“Thanks, Tan,” you whisper. There are so many more things you want to say, so much more negativity flying through your head, but it’s easier to let him take a little bit of the burden, like you know he wants to.

“Of course, love. We’ll figure this out together.” Slowly, he kneels down on the floor in front of you so you’re at the same height, bringing your heads together. You close your eyes and get lost in the feel of his hands against you, his breath against your own, his presence all around you. A part of you in the back of your mind reminds you that this could be your normal.

You pull apart and Tangerine wipes the tear from your eye with his thumb, so gentle. “Who did this to you?” There’s an edge to Tangerine’s voice that you’ve never wanted to hear aimed at you. But you don’t think it’s you that he’s mad at.

“It could have been a lot of people,” you start.

“You fucking know who it was. Tell me.” He’s losing patience now, wanting to help in the way he knows how. There’s no way for him to know the way that he’s already helping by being with you. His presence is a comfort, a safety that you can’t get if he’s out there looking for someone.

“Probably White Death’s guys,” you admit, thinking back. You’ve been careful, but there are always people who will talk. “They’ll do whatever to keep their names out of people’s mouths.”

“Fucking hell,” he swears, his hands on his hips. The dying light from the hallway casts shadows against his silhouette, the shiny silver signet ring on his pinky and the warm metal against his chest glinting along the hardwoods. “Why would they leave Jovie alive?” It’s a stupid question, one that both of you already know the answer to anyway, but you know why he’s asking. Sometimes it’s easier for other people to say the hard things. It’s not like you’re upset about Jovie being alive, you’re so utterly grateful, but it can’t be for no reason.

“Because they know who Jovie is. They want to scare us because there planning for something worse, something we aren’t expecting.”

“Mommy? Daddy? I’m scared,” Jovie calls from the other room. “There are monsters underneath the bed.” It’s something she’s been scared of for as long as you can remember, but you can’t help the spike of fear that courses through you. You’re not alone though, because Tangerine looks at you with the same panic in his eyes.

“We’re coming, love,” he replies, and you follow him through the door. Jovie’s sitting up in the bed, surrounded by blankets that build up around her and holding her stuffed bear close to her chest.

“Do you know which monster it is this time?” you ask softly, crawling next to her. Dutifully, Tangerine checks under the bed carefully and gives an exaggerated thumbs up that makes Jovie’s giggle beside you.

“It’s Lenny,” she whispers into your ear, and you nod solemnly at her.

“That’s a serious monster problem. Do you think Daddy’s going to have to move out of his house?” For as long as she’s been scared of the monsters under her bed, you and Tangerine have tried to twist it into something better. That’s when you started asking her what the monsters’ names are and what she thinks they're doing under her bed. Usually, you’re able to get her to a point of calm and, on the rare occasion, to a point where she’s no longer afraid of a certain monster. So far, you and Tangerine have been able to convince her that the monsters Polly and Patrick are protecting her, but Lenny has been a challenge since the beginning.

“I will not be moving, ladies. I don’t think Lenny’s here tonight, Jovie-love. And if he is, tell him to piss off because I’m too tired to fight a monster.” For emphasis, he plops face first down on the bed and starts snoring loudly.

“Tan, language,” you chastise lightly, sending a half-hearted glare in his direction. It’s a fruitless task, which you learned a long time ago, but you won’t stop trying, more for your own sanity than for Jovie’s sake.

“Yeah, Daddy, language,” Jovie mimics, crossing her arms over her chest. You laugh and nudge Tangerine, who looks less than thrilled.

“Right, you two are a pair,” he groans into his hands, peeking through to wiggle his eyes at Jovie. “But I think it’s time for my ladies to go to sleep.”

“Thank you for saving me,” Jovie adds sweetly, snuggling further underneath the blanket. Your heart melts at the way she holds her teddy close to her chest. “Will you always come for me?”

“Jovie, baby, there could be dragons and mountains and oceans between us and we would still find a way to you, okay? Daddy and I will never stop looking for you if you’re away from us. Never. Do you understand?” You run a hand over her hair and tuck a stray strand behind her ear.

At that, Jovie opens her eyes and looks at you, blinking slowly.“But you and Daddy don’t love each other.”

“Oh, baby,” you sigh. You can’t look at Tangerine next to you, you can’t bear to see the look on his face. “I’ll always love your dad. I love that he’s the person I get to raise you with. I love that he’s there when I need him. We just…weren't able to love each other together. It’s like that sometimes.” You wish it weren’t, but that’s not a fight that you want to have again.

“Jovie-love, your mom and I have loved each other since before you were born, but it’s easier for us to love each other from separate places,” Tangerine adds, smoothing the side of Jovie’s face. His words ring a painful truth that you’ve known for years.

“But we’ll always come together to be with you, baby. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Promise?” she asks, holding up her pinky. You smile and take it in your own, and Tangerime dutifully does the same.

“Promise,” you echo, holding onto her hand. She nods her acceptance and you let go, as does Tangerine. “Now, it’s time for bed. We’ll be here in the morning, so you just come and wake us up, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy. You’re both going to be here?”

“Yeah, love. We’re having a little sleepover for tonight until your mom’s house is better. Does that sound fun?” Tangerine asks, tucking Jovie further into the blankets and glancing over at you.

“Yes,” Jovie agrees sleepily, snuggling further into her blankets. “Sounds fun.”

“Good,” you smile. “Goodnight, Jovie.” With that, you slowly make your way out of the room, Tangerine on your heels.

Once you’re out of the room and back into his bedroom, you sit down on his bed and he sits next to you, shoulders against each other. “You can sleep in here, I’ll sleep in the living room,” he offers.

You shake your head and respond, “No, I couldn’t do that. It’s your house, Tan.” And you don’t want to slip in the bed you used to share without him,

“It’s alright, love, really. I don’t use that couch enough.”

“I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch in your own house,” you argue back. “It’s rude.”

“Look, you’ve been through a lot today. I’m not going to make it worse by giving you a sore neck and back tomorrow. I know you well enough to know that it would happen, so don’t pull any shot with me,” he warns, and you don’t have a lot of defense against that.

“Fine, I’ll sleep in here, but I’m absolutely not going to have you sleep on the couch. We’re both adults here, we can share a fucking bed for one night.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “If that’s what it takes.”

There’s space in between you when you lay down, but he’s closer than he’s been in a long time.

[thisisyourdriverspeaking]

Lightening the mood after Miami with another edition of my US number ones posts - the drivers from all series version. Please enjoy 😊😊

Sebastien Loeb (26th February 1974) - Barbara Streisand - The Way We Were

Tony Kanaan (31st December 1974) - Helen Reddy - Angie Baby

Juan Pablo Montoya (20th September 1975) - David Bowie - Fame

Mark Webber (27th August 1976) - Elton John & Kiki Dee - Don't Go Breaking My Heart

Kimi Raikkonen (17th October 1979) - Michael Jackson - Don't Stop Til You Get Enough

Jenson Button (19th January 1980) - Michael Jackson - Rock With You

Felipe Massa (25th April 1981) - Daryl Hall & John Oates - Kiss On My List

Heikki Kovalainen (19th October 1981) - Christopher Cross - Arthur's Theme (Best That You Can Do)

Andre Lotterer (19th November 1981) - Daryl Hall & John Oates - Private Eyes

Pippa Mann (11th August 1983) - The Police - Every Breath You Take

Simon Pagenaud (18th May 1984) - Lionel Richie - Hello

Robert Kubica (7th December 1984) - Wham! - Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go

Nico Rosberg (27th June 1985) - Bryan Adams - Heaven

Jerome D'Ambrosio (27th December 1985) - Lionel Richie - Say You, Say Me

Rahel Frey (23rd February 1986) - Whitney Houston - How Will I Know

Kamui Kobayashi (13th September 1986) - Berlin - Take My Breath Away

Rene Rast (26th October 1986) - Cyndi Lauper - True Colors

James Hinchcliffe (5th December 1986) - Bon Jovi - You Give Love A Bad Name

Oliver Turvey (1st April 1987) - Club Nouveau - Let It Be

Sebastian Vettel (3rd July 1987) - Whitney Houston - I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)

Alexander Sims (15th March 1988) - Rick Astley - Never Gonna Give You Up

Molly Taylor (6th May 1988) - Whitney Houston - Where Do Broken Hearts Go

Simona De Silvestro (1st September 1988) - George Michael - Monkey

Sarah Bovy (15th May 1989) - Bon Jovi - I'll Be There For You

James Calado (13th June 1989) - Bette Midler - Wind Beneath My Wings

Brendon Hartley (10th November 1989) - Roxette - Listen To Your Heart

Earl Bamber (9th July 1990) - New Kids On The Block - Step By Step

Cristina Gutierrez (24th July 1991) - EMF - Unbelievable

Abbie Eaton (2nd January 1992) - Michael Jackson - Black Or White

Timmy Hansen (21st May 1992) - Kris Kross - Jump

Daniel Abt (3rd December 1992) & Alice Powell (26th January 1993) - Whitney Houston - I Will Always Love You

Tatiana Calderon (10th March 1993) - Peabo Bryson & Regina Belle - A Whole New World

Christine GZ (22nd July 1993) - SWV - Weak

Alex Lynn (17th September 1993) & Bubba Wallace (8th October 1993) - Mariah Carey - Dreamlover

Michelle Gatting (31st December 1993) - Mariah Carey - Hero

Naomi Schiff (18th May 1994) - Ace Of Base - The Sign

Jessica Hawkins (16th February 1995) & Luca Ghiotto (24th February 1995) - TLC - Creep

Beitske Visser (10th March 1995) - Madonna - Take A Bow

Nicholas Latifi (29th June 1995) - Bryan Adams - Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman?

Jack Aitken (23rd September 1995) - Coolio ft L.V - Gangsta's Paradise

Oliver Askew (12th December 1996) - Toni Braxton - Un-Break My Heart

Louis Deletraz (22nd April 1997) - Puff Daddy ft Mase - Can't Nobody Hold Me Down

Catie Munnings (15th November 1997) - Elton John - Candle In The Wind

Cem Bolukbasi (9th February 1998) - Janet Jackson - Together Again

Jamie Chadwick (20th May 1998) - Next - Too Close

Kevin Hansen (28th May 1998) - Mariah Carey - My All

Mick Schumacher (22nd March 1999) - Cher - Believe

Toni Breidinger (14th July 1999) - Jennifer Lopez - If You Had My Love

Max Fewtrell (29th July 1999) - Will Smith ft Dru Hill & Kool Moe Dee - Wild Wild West

Robert Shwartzman (16th September 1999) - Enrique Iglesias - Bailamos

Bent Viscaal (18th September 1999) - TLC - Unpretty

Felipe Drugovich (23rd May 2000) - Santana ft The Product G&B - Maria Maria

Marta Garcia (9th August 2000) - N'Sync - It's Gonna Be Me

Arthur Leclerc (14th October 2000) - Christina Aguilera - Come On Over Baby (All I Want Is You)

Sophia Florsch (1st December 2000) & Clement Novalak (23rd December 2000) - Destiny's Child - Independent Women Pt 1

Frederik Vesti (13th January 2002) - Nickelback - How You Remind Me

Luke Browning (31st January 2002) & Liam Lawson (11th February 2002) - Usher - U Got It Bad

Olli Caldwell (11th June 2002) - Ashanti - Foolish

Jack Doohan (20th January 2003) - Eminem - Lose Yourself

All added to this playlist

[yurizzsblog]

Lyrics For Prompts

Fleetwood Mac - "Landslide"

"Well, I've been afraid of changin' 'Cause I built my life around you"

Bob Dylan - "The Times They Are A-Changin'"

"For the times they are a-changin'"

Simon & Garfunkel - "The Sound of Silence"

"Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again"

Nirvana - "Smells Like Teen Spirit"

"With the lights out, it's less dangerous Here we are now, entertain us"

Johnny Cash - "Hurt"

"What have I become, my sweetest friend? Everyone I know goes away in the end"

The Beatles - "Let It Be"

"And when the night is cloudy There is still a light that shines on me Shine until tomorrow, let it be"

Radiohead - "Creep"

"But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here"

Coldplay - "Fix You"

"Lights will guide you home And ignite your bones And I will try to fix you"

Queen - "Bohemian Rhapsody"

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality"

Eagles - "Hotel California"

"You can check out any time you like, But you can never leave"

David Bowie - "Space Oddity"

"Ground Control to Major Tom Your circuit's dead, there's something wrong"

U2 - "With or Without You"

"I can't live with or without you"

Adele - "Someone Like You"

"Never mind, I'll find someone like you I wish nothing but the best for you, too"

Pink Floyd - "Wish You Were Here"

"We're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year"

The Rolling Stones - "Paint It Black"

"I see a red door and I want it painted black No colors anymore, I want them to turn black"

Bon Jovi - "Livin' on a Prayer"

"Woah, we're half way there Woah-oh, livin' on a prayer"

The Police - "Every Breath You Take"

"Every breath you take, every move you make I'll be watching you"

Green Day - "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)"

"It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right I hope you had the time of your life"

Lynyrd Skynyrd - "Free Bird"

"If I leave here tomorrow Would you still remember me?"

Journey - "Don't Stop Believin'"

"Don't stop believin' Hold on to that feelin'"

[sweetblinginrose]

sweetchestnut,

(Billy Hargrove x fem¡OCMayfield)

Samantha Danielle Mayfield finally decides to move to Hawkins with her sister and mother, as well as her mother's new husband and his arrogant son, William "Billy" Hargrove. what they are unaware of is that, gradually, these step-siblings will discover that the line between contempt and passion is more fragile than they supposed, and what begins as shared hostility turns into an intense and undeniable attraction that both find themselves unable to resist.

warnings: read at your own risk, as it includes a continuous sexual environment, profanity, mention of death and suicide, step-sibling relationship, sex, and all its derivatives.

words: 2,5k +

author’s note: i have decided to rewrite this story after so long, so i will tag some people who interacted with my old story. if you don't want to be tagged, let me know and no problem i will remove you and not tag you again 🩵.

(if someone wants to be tagged just tell me)

this work is entirely my own creation. that is to say, i have not based it on anyone else's, so any resemblance to any other work is purely coincidental, as i have been using this format for all my stories since 2019. i hope you enjoy the story. if you find any translation errors, something you don't understand, or similar, please let me know.

masterlist next chapter

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

Chapter One: Shot Throught The Heart - Bon Jovi

Samantha Danielle Mayfield. Yes, Mayfield. She found the surname Hargrove detestable.

Ever since that fateful day when Neil Hargrove took Susan from the arms of the two young girls' father, Samantha has been unable to forgive her mother. She chose to stay with her father indefinitely, firmly resolved not to see her mother's face again, or so she believed. Susan had "betrayed" the Mayfields, fracturing the relationship between Max and Samantha to the point of only allowing them sporadic encounters, plunging both sisters into deep sadness.

As the years passed, they got used to seeing each other only on weekends, and everything seemed to be going well. Until one day, a letter arrived at the Sam residence, which read:

“Hello Sammy,

I am writing to invite you to my wedding with Neil in a few months. We are very happy and wish to share our joy with you. Also, there are some things we need to discuss in person that you should know.

With love,

mom.”

Samantha received the news with displeasure, but over time she understood that everyone is free to decide about their life and that she had to respect it, as nothing would change to please her wishes. So, swallowing her pride, she began the search for a dress for the occasion.

The ceremony went off without incident. Max and Sam were playing cards when Susan stealthily approached her eldest daughter and whispered the dreaded words:

“We need to talk.”

Upon hearing her mother's prepared speech, Samantha burst into tears. She couldn't bear the idea of her mother taking Maxine away from her. Her sister was almost her best friend; separating them was an act of selfishness, wasn't it?

Samantha's reaction was intense. She screamed how great her hatred was for that family, capturing the attention of all those present and ruining part of the wedding. She insulted everyone for the last time and fled in search of a phone booth to call her father, who consoled her, equally affected, trying to convince her that it wouldn't be so bad, that they could keep in touch and visit occasionally.

After the incident, they decided to postpone the move for another year, until early 1984, due to the girl's immature behavior and the deterioration of her father's health, whose lung cancer was advancing inexorably. Months later, at the end of 1984, the girls' father died, unable to fight the cancer that rapidly consumed his weakened body, leaving a huge void in both, but especially in Samantha. She decided not to inform anyone, except her sister through a letter that would arrive a month later, which meant that Samantha lived alone during that time, surviving with difficulty.

The news devastated Maxine, who informed her mother. Susan, very worried, called Samantha repeatedly, not knowing that her daughter had escaped. She called all the authorities in California to find her daughter.

Samantha distanced herself from everything and everyone. She left behind friends and family, taking with her only a letter from Max, some clothes, and the little money she had left. Just the day before Christmas, guided by the offers at the bus stations and the address in Maxine's letter, Sam decided to go to Hawkins, Indiana. Her arrival on December 24, '84, was a Christmas gift for her distressed mother, who interrupted her prayers upon hearing the doorbell. Seeing the familiar face, Susan burst into tears, hugging her daughter tightly and shouting for joy. The commotion attracted everyone present, who ran to witness the emotional reunion between the two redheads and the brunette at the door.

═══════ .˚♡˚. ════════

Six months had passed since the death of their father, and five since her arrival in Hawkins.

Samantha had settled just in time for the start of the second academic term. Despite the widespread interest in befriending her, she only forged ties with a select and quite different group, as most did not pique her interest. Among her new friends was the one she liked best, Keith, the affable young man in charge of the game room, the Arcade, who offered her employment during the school year upon seeing her go there so often, forging a solid friendship based on common interests; two ruby-haired girls, Vicki and Nicole, with whom she shared lunch in the cafeteria and moments of hidden cigarettes under the staircase; and the charming Nancy Wheeler, who became a great ally during Sam's first days of adaptation. Obviously, in the best position was her little sister, Maxine, whom she sneaked into the Arcade and would give everything for. Despite all this, Danielle was quite flirtatious, so she liked to attract the attention of boys, flirt and play with their feelings when she went out at night with Vicki and Nicole. On the other hand, there were people that the brunette couldn't stand, the most notable being her stepbrother, Billy, and his close circle, except for the two redheads mentioned earlier. Exhausted by his arrogant attitude, the girl promised herself that one day she would punch that stupid face. The animosity was mutual. Even when Neil, her stepfather, forced Billy to take the sisters home and bring them from the institute, he occasionally "forgot" his duty, leaving them stranded there, returning on foot. To top it off, the intensity of their two characters caused constant altercations at home, always ending with Neil hitting and scolding Billy or yelling and blaming Susan for the behavior of his eldest daughter, which caused even worse behavior on the part of the eldest, who couldn't stand her mother, but after all, she was the one who had brought her into the world, so she didn't quite like the idea of someone raising their voice to her progenitor.

═══════ .˚♡˚. ════════

Neil and the sisters’ mother had left for California, as they needed to take care of some paperwork related to the Hargrove family’s old residence. It was important to have an in-person conversation with the lawyer. As a result, they would be back in a couple of hours. For Sam, this meant the freedom to sleep all day without anyone bothering her.

At eight in the morning, the couple woke up the kids to inform them of their departure, mentioning that they would return early in the morning. After that, everyone seemed to fall back asleep. The older siblings were tasked with supervising Max, a duty that didn’t seem challenging.

Samantha easily drifted off to sleep. Final exams were over, summer vacation was just around the corner, and the air conditioning in her room promised refuge from the summer heat. She discarded her pants, leaving herself in underwear and an oversized T-shirt, and nestled under the sheets in an idyllic climate. However, the teenager’s perfect plan was interrupted when, in her dream, Billy appeared wearing his ridiculous oversized blue tracksuit. This time, it looked even more comically large, and the music thundered until Sam felt like her eardrums would burst, abruptly waking her up. The strident melody wasn’t part of her dream; it was coming from the room next door, Billy’s room.

The volume was excessive.

Sam tried to ignore it, not wanting to confront Billy today. In fact, she had considered completely ignoring her stepbrother’s existence during this time. She attempted to drown out the sound with her pillows, but after several failed attempts, she jumped out of bed, ripped off her sleep mask, and flung it across the room. It collided with a poster of Tom Cruise, adorned with lipstick marks on his massive cheek. Angry, she smacked the clock that read nine-thirty in the morning.

“Does this idiot have no brain?” she muttered aloud, delivering a blow to the alarm clock. The battery popped out, rolling under the bed.

With resounding steps, she marched toward the door, which she flung open with such force that it slammed against the wall, enlarging the existing hole with each slam. But that was inconsequential at the moment. What truly mattered was throttling Billy until he was breathless. Samantha advanced down the hallway, possessed by rage, until she reached her stepbrother’s door. She pounded on it frantically, demanding that he either lower the music volume or turn it off altogether. After a series of forceful knocks and numerous unanswered shouts, she decided to swing the door open abruptly, not anticipating the scene that awaited her on the other side.

“Billy, I'm so sick of you blasting music at this hour… Oh, shit!” Sam burst into the room, her eyes narrowed in fury, words pouring out rapidly. As she opened her eyes wider, she was met with an unusually peculiar sight…

The increasing wave of moans and lascivious sounds, both male and female, erupted, intertwined with powerful music, completely flooding the house, not just limited to the bedroom. Among these gasps, those of a blonde who shared Billy’s presence stood out. The young woman lay naked, reclined on the bed, which, along with the sheets, seemed to slide down inexorably, although at that moment, surely, that was not her main concern. Although her bust was quite small, it bounced in an unexpected way. They looked like… flan? Billy’s fingers sank into her waist, squeezing with an intensity as if his life depended on it. However, the problem was that Sam had caught Billy in the act of carnal activity, that is, fucking. She had taken in the sweat that soaked his body, slightly dampening his hair, which clung to his forehead and neck; the deep growls that escaped from his lips; the vigorous and fast movement of his hips and the roar that emanated from them; the expression of concentration manifested in his firm bite on his lower lip, and in his eyes, those that said everything, which met Samantha’s just as she opened them, unleashing an involuntary scream from both of them.

“Holy-. Sam! You don’t know how to knock on a damn door? Get the hell out!” he exclaimed with a startled and hoarse voice, covering himself as best he could with the sheet that, as he pulled it, caused the girl who was covered to fall off, not caring at all that his companion was completely uncovered. He quickly threw a magazine, which landed right on the young woman’s shoulder, who closed the door probably faster than the speed of light.

Samantha was frozen, staring at the white wooden door, marked with several scratches and holes from Billy’s punches from inside, reflecting on what had just happened and how to erase that moment from her mind.

“Holy shit…” she gasped. It was the only thing that could come out of her lips at that moment.

“What’s going on?” Max asked behind her, yawning and startling her, almost giving her a heart attack. “I just woke up because of the screams. Are you guys fighting again?” she asked her older sister innocently, assuming that everything boiled down to a usual argument, and without hesitation, taking her side.

Sam nodded and smiled. That was all she did.

“Why don’t you make breakfast today? I… I have to go to the bathroom… yeah.” The young woman sneaked away, reaching the bathroom and locking it, leaning her hands on the sink as she stared at herself in the mirror. She began to lift her shirt and compare herself with the figure of the blonde she had seen because Sam believed her breasts were small, but upon seeing them, she changed her mind. What Samantha didn’t realize was that her distorted perception of her body was leading her to see herself that way, given the taunts she had received from her former friends and, now, Billy, when in reality, she had an enviable figure.

After splashing cold water on her face, she decided to use the toilet before going to breakfast, realizing that she had wet her underwear while recalling the scene with her stepbrother. She couldn’t believe it. It all seemed like a lie to her.

“What’s happening to me?” she wondered, putting her hand on her forehead to check for a fever.

A few moments later, Sam perceived voices coming from the bathroom window facing the street. She interrupted her actions to look out cautiously, still with her panties down, watching as the blonde she had seen in Billy’s room just minutes ago had a heated argument with her stepbrother, who had just received a slap.

“You promised me we would be alone, you jerk,” the girl’s voice echoed in the distance as she got into her car and drove away from the Hargrove residence, extending her middle finger in a defiant gesture through the window, gradually disappearing on the horizon. Samantha felt a deep sense of relief upon confirming that the girl had left. She exhaled deeply and left the bathroom with the intention of savoring the aroma that had attracted her so much: freshly made waffles by Max. However, upon leaving, she came face to face with Billy, who appeared before her wearing only his underwear, exposing his happy trail situated between his V, and a cigarette between his lips. His skin was so covered in sweat that it gave the impression he had just emerged from the shower.

“Move,” he demanded with authority, firmly gripping the girl’s arm and moving her on his own with a gentle but strong push, causing one of her breasts to rub against his damp bicep.

“Don’t touch me, Billy,” threatened the girl, a little uncomfortable with everything that had happened earlier, walking away toward the kitchen.

═══════ TAGS ════════

@suckmystoneysworld @simpfortargaryens @kelsj21 @fifitheflowertotsposts @livingdeadrey @bearomanoff18 @sizzlingpartylightpeach @elenaa199 @lovelyjaelyn2007 @sassyblazecloud12 @strangerthing93 @teddy4suna @g-cf2020 @filthykimmy @paradisepoisons @astro-menace @manzanitaa @eirose94 @waterfi @shelbyraehay13 @elenaa199 @aneareyouok @sassyblazecloud12 @rickgrimesismydaddy1 @kiwi-unique @maydaylovex @eirose94 @sanguwuxyoonbummy @lostdreamingwallflower

[joes-sha-la-la-la-girl]

hello, how are you doing?

i read your jbj fic and thought it was amazing. i saw your requests are open and id like to request something, if thats ok.

its with jon bon jovi and id prefer if it was enemies to lovers, where they meet at a record store and they always argue about their fav bands, they have been talking for some years until she starts avoiding him and he gets worried. when they meet again he is angry at her and they argue harshly until he explains the love he has for her and reveals he has been writing songs about her. it ends with both hugging and apologising to one another. if its in the rain it would be even better.

thank you for reading this. if you cant or dont want to write it, its totally fine and i 100% understand!

have a nice day/night.

-all the love M.

I am so sorry this has taken so long but if all goes to plan this should be out soon 💖💖

[huntsvillegossip]

Hello, hello my little lovelies,

So much to catch up on these days! Everyone all at once seemed to have some type of news to share with me. 

You all know being on the ice is meant to keep us all cool and level-headed, right? There were so many punches thrown at the ice skating event, not just once, not even twice, but three whole times. Eagan Connolly punched Huntsville Daily’s very own Samuel Ahn over what was reportedly, and unsurprisingly, something to do with that missing brother of hers again. If she keeps that attitude up no one is going to be willing to assist her. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, sweetheart. 

Seeming to take a cue from her is that wildchild from the Westfall family, Esther Westfall, who is just as short tempered as ever. They were seen punching one Eldon Harcourt, though he seemed to take it decently well, and didn’t engage into a full brawl. The same can’t be said for Joey Albright who fully attacked Louis Ryan and had to be pulled off him. Not exactly the behavior you’d expect from everyone’s favorite heartthrob but it seems love makes fools of us all. Let’s just hope that Hope Macgillivray is worth it. 

However, not everyone at the ice skating party was quick to come to blows. It seems that there are at least some of you who would rather make love than war. Jackson Miller was spotted getting cozy with Lavender Parsons, ending in what was apparently quite the steamy kiss, if my sources are to be believed. Now I know that some readers may be scandalized by this news, but I for one think it is wonderful that after everything she went through with her mother’s disappearance last year, Miss Parsons seems to be coming into her own as a young woman. All I can say is, be careful out there, men of Huntsville! There’s a new heartbreaker on the rise.

Here’s a toast to one town event being mostly a success with no serious incidents. Hopefully this is the start of a new and lighter year for all of us. 

Love,

Auntie G

That older ranger guy is like, always at the bar. Smells like a bar too. Really harshes the vibe, you know? - Day Drinker

I've been seeing Amber Ryan and Noah Kasprak head off to his place a lot lately. I wonder how her siblings feel about her sleeping around with her co-worker. Seems pretty irresponsible to me considering the family's history. - Anon (25F)

So I was minding my business, when I heard Marisol de la Luna was holding some guy’s tarantula? Is that a new euphemism the kids are using or what? Here’s hoping history doesn’t repeat itself or she’ll end up like her mom did senior year. - Think of the Children

Geez, never a dull day with the Romeros. Heard another one of Hawk’s kids came popping out of the woods. Sora Griffon? At this rate, he’s gonna have a whole flock of ‘em. Hope his new hubby is ready to play Brady Bunch. - Town Bird Watcher

Nico Garcia has been going around saying he’s going to be a dad? I wonder who he knocked up. Could be half the town from the way he’s been getting around. I heard that within the past couple months he’s been hooking up with Val Moreno, Kirby, Nadine Briggs, Jessie Sinclair, Wren Romero, Cole Cerulli, Jovi DiCamillo, and Tatum Hampton, to name just a few! - Anon (33M)

[astrowaffles]

Hi, can I ask your top favorite fics that you've written (feel free how much that you want to list)? Why they're special to you? Is there a specific inspiration when you wrote them?

Hello! My favourite fics are often ones overlooked by the general public (who, for some reason, like showering love on the fics I hated writing and/or regret posting). Hence this list will be full of very short and very silly fics, since I like those best.

The Megumi-Isn't-Breathing Incident

This was only the second fic I wrote for JJK, and yet it's one of my favourites. First of all, it was written for one of my very first supporters, selcouthwanderer, whose comments I really miss. If not for them, there's no way I would've kept writing for Gojo & Megumi. Second of all, it was my very first foray into anything resembling angst (and it's still really fluffy. sigh) and it's proof to me that I have range as a writer. I'm mostly silly and I try hard to be funny, but I know I can be serious and I can dive deeper into my characters. Third of all, I think it's really well written! I genuinely surprised myself, upon rereading it, with the quality of my writing. I don't think I write to that standard normally, which makes it all the more special. If I wanted someone to think well of me as a writer, I'd show them to this fic.

2. Jump, then Fall

This one was written for the fengqing gotcha for gaza, so it came less from inspiration and more from a prompt by my good pal makki (@makkisucks). Still, I'm majorly proud of it!! It's much longer than anything I've written before and follows a plotline. Did everything turn out how I want? No. There are still things I'd change about it. But, again, it represents a major hill i climbed over - the curse of only writing 2k and then getting stuck. J,TF is 12k and completely coherent throughout. Win!

3. Chronically Ill Platypus

By contrast, this one's only 758 words and there's literally 0 plot. I like this one because it's the content I wish other people would produce so I can read it. Complex Matchablossom angst is fabulous but I wish more people actually looked at their relationship in its most basic form: they're best friends. Have been since they were five. They bring out the silliest, pettiest, most emotional side of each other and sometimes all you really want is to see them be best friends. I got a few comments along the lines of "thanks for writing them like this!! everyone wants to ship them these days (eye roll)" so I do want to be clear, I SHIP MATCHABLOSSOM. But sometimes friendship is more important than whether or not they kiss. I feel the same about iwaoi; I don't always want to see them kiss, I want to see them be silly and comfortable with each other like best friends are.

4. Bon Jovi, Autographs, and Sunshine

I haven't read over it in a while so I have no idea if it's up to current writing standards (my writing has noticeably improved over the last few years) but I remember loving this one. Justice for solangelo! I also remember someone marking it as 'ooc but i like it'. I nearly threw myself out the window because I really pride myself on my characterisation. But I stand by it, to be honest, I don't think it's ooc to any noticeable extent.

ANYWAYS. I like this fic because, again, it's the kind of thing I wish there was more of. It's chaotic and ridiculous and has no plot, it's just soft and I can literally see it in my mind's eye, tinted yellow, warm, fun... Solangelo was a massive comfort ship for me for years and this was just me expressing that. I only ever write for myself and this was peak Astro Fanfiction!!

Thanks for the ask! I hope to see you in the comments of some of these >:)

[blindrapture]

SUNDAY JUNE 5TH, 2011 (WOMP WOMP)

4:30 AM I’ve slept plenty. Now I’m ready to go and do shit.

4:36 AM I’m gonna take a walk around this town, see what’s there to see.

5:29 AM Hello, handsome. I found a mirror in a shop. A big mirror. Y’know, I didn’t realize I looked so damn good in this white suit. The actual jacket is more of a light-blue colour, but I guess it’s to set me apart from most white-suit folk. I think Mistress really thought this outfit through. It’s like.. a proper disguise. After all this killing, nobody’s gonna recognize me because I’ll be wearing all black and carrying a guitar controller! I gotta try not to get blood all over the suit.

5:41 AM …no way. You have got to be shitting me, this can’t possibly be real. This is a fucking CD shop.

5:53 AM Sunsetters’ No Entry, Genesis’ Abacab, and I decided to give Bonnjo Vjonsped’s experimental years a try with Womp Womp. I dunno, it looks interesting. Luckily, in Rapture, there’s no worry about paying for shit. >w>

5:59 AM Went back to my car. Gonna listen to this shit on that music player, so I can play it super-loud and not wake people up. Let’s try Womp Womp.

6:19 AM WOMP WOMP WOMP WOMP WOMP WOMP WOMP WOMP WOMP WOMP Take the bass Rock the place Kick the space In the face With a taste Of your case Of Bud Lite taste AND THE PARTY GOES WOMP WOMP WOMP WOMP 7:10 AM Okay, that was about as close to the music of the gods as anything could get without being progressive rock. That was legitimately amazing. I’m tired. I’ve been dancing too much. I’m gonna go back to the hotel.

7:28 AM There’s that little kid again. He’s just sitting, cross-legged, in the hallway. He’s looking at me, and he’s smiling. It’s an innocent smile, but I can see something behind it. Like he knows something. And he’s just.. waiting. ..I’m gonna wait in the bar.

7:31 AM Bar’s fairly quiet, no doubt because it’s this early.

7:47 AM Ferdinando came in. He’s sitting nearby, minding his own. I don’t think I’ll use my crowbar for this. I’m gonna take a glass. Tall glass. ..fuck, I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna make it out of this. I do not look forward to it.

8:25 AM I was so barbaric He wasn’t a monster and I was so barbaric

9:56 AM Hiding. Found a house. Hiding. Oh god, I must have gotten the whole town after me. I think Ferdinando was the messenger they were sending to Manresa. I’m gonna.. I’m just gonna rest a bit. Just a bit.

12:03 PM ..motherfucker where’s my car where is my car No no no nooo oh god no, all my prog was in there I’m.. no. No, just no no, no please, I can’t do this, my prog. ._. Oh god.

12:07 PM …false alarm, I just remembered I took all my CDs into the house with me. BUT STILL. My car! Looks like I’m back to walking.

12:34 PM Like before, I have no idea where I’m going now. I mean, I know I’m going to Manresa, but I have no idea where that is. I guess I’ll just keep following this road.

3:01 PM God, it’s getting hot.

5:22 PM I’ve noticed that there have been a lot less crazy monsters ever since I left Blackpool. I almost miss them. It’s better than all this boredom.

8:49 PM I’m getting very tired. I’m just gonna.. stop in this house here. And sleep.

8:57 PM FUCK RUN RUN OH GODDD RUN RUN RUN

9:14 PM There were people there, oh my god. They answered the door with a shotgun. And said “Dios mio, el bufon blanco!” I guess that’s my name now. The white buffoon.

9:32 PM Another house. I’m gonna try this one.

9:40 PM Empty, completely empty. Perfect. I’m gonna get some shut-eye, then. Hopefully tomorrow will be better than today was.

(Attached: “While Womp Womp wasn’t the first instance of dubstep in the music world, it was probably the funniest. Bonnjo Vjonsped are the world’s dumbest metal band. Their name is pronounced ‘Bon Jovi on speed,’ a pronunciation that literally makes no sense when you look at the way it’s spelled and think about it for a second. They spent most of their years in obscurity, though Womp Womp was met on release with a warm reception since no one had heard of these guys so the critics assumed the album was a parody. The cheesy lyrics were quite serious, I assure you. I’ve met the guys.”)

[PREV LOG] [TABLE OF CONTENTS] [NEXT LOG]

[page-2-ids]

New Coining Event!

Hello and welcome to Synth’s Coining Rockin’ Event (or the “cre coining event” for the sane), a coining event entirely centered around rock music! Everything from J-Rock, to grunge, to hair metal! Any and everyone is welcome to participate! The event is going to last from May 1st to June 15! 

There aren’t really any rules, just some stuff I’d like to say before we get to the prompts. Every day of the event has two prompts, in theory the first one is a more known song and the second less known and also similar/linked in some way, but I don’t know how good of a job I did at that. It’s totally cool to do both prompts or just one, going off actual relation, vibes, whatever works! I’d like to ask that no one does genders just related to the listed song or songs/albums, just so we can avoid recoinings, but everything else is up for grabs!

Everyone is free to do all days, just a couple, multiple prompts a day, whatever floats your boat!

If anyone is interested in some tags they could use to organize or find terms, I have some of those under the cut. With all that out of the way, here are the prompts!

May 1st: November Rain (Guns N’ Roses) // (Don’t Fear) The Reaper (Blue Oyster Cult) May 2nd: Smells Like Teen Spirit (Nirvana) // Slither (Velvet Revolver) May 3rd: Dream On (Aerosmith) // Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door (any version) May 4th: Girls, Girls, Girls (Motley Crue) // Talk Dirty To Me (Poison) May 5th: Welcome to the Jungle (Guns N’ Roses) // Nightrain (Guns N’ Roses) May 6th: Every Rose Has Its Thorn (Poison) // Snuff (Slipknot) May 7th: I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing (Aerosmith) // I’d Die For You (Bon Jovi) May 8th: Livin’ On A Prayer (Bon Jovi) // Viva la Gloria! (Green Day) May 9th: You Give Love A Bad Name (Bon Jovi) // Shot Through The Heart (Bon Jovi) May 10th: Slippery When Wet (Bon Jovi) // 7800° Degrees Fahrenheit (Bon Jovi) May 11th: Dr. Feelgood (Motley Crue) // London Calling (The Clash) May 12th: American Idiot (Green Day) // 21st Century Breakdown (Green Day) May 13th: The Black Parade (My Chemical Romance) // Danger Days: The True Lives Of the Fabulous Killjoys (My Chemical Romance) May 14th: Comfortably Numb (Pink Floyd) // Give Me Novacaine (Green Day) May 15th: Numb (Linkin Park) // Shadow On the Sun (Audioslave) May 16th: Are We the Waiting (Green Day) // The Thin Ice (Pink Floyd) May 17th: Everlong (Foo Fighters) // She’s a Rebel (Green Day) May 18th: I Don’t Love You You (My Chemical Romance) // Don’t Cry (Guns N’ Roses) May 19th: Basketcase (Green Day) // Everyday is News (Shinsei Kamattechan) May 20th: Holiday (Green Day) // God Save the Queen (Sex Pistols) May 21st: Bohemian Rhapsody (Queen) // Homecoming (Green Day) May 22nd: Rock You Like a Hurricane (Scorpions) // Young Lust (Pink Floyd) May 23rd: Somebody Told Me (The Killers) // Michael (Franz Ferdinand) May 24th: The Sharpest Lives (My Chemical Romance) // Kickstart My Heart (Motley Crue) May 25th: In The End (Linkin Park) // Last Resort (Papa Roach) May 26th: Pour Some Sugar On Me (Def Leppard) // Cherry Pie (Warrant) May 27th: Here I Go Again (Whitesnake) // Street Of Dreams (Guns N’ Roses) May 28th: Should I Stay Or Should I Go (The Clash) // American Woman (Lenny Kravitz) May 29th: Shout At the Devil (Motley Crue) // The Hardest Part Is The Night (Bon Jovi) May 30th: Closer (Nine Inch Nails) // Wither (Tech N9ne, Corey Taylor) May 31st: I Love Rock N’ Roll (Joan Jett) // Mental Health(Bang Your Head) (Quiet Riot) June 1st: Master of Puppets (Metallica) // Under The Bridge (Red Hot Chili Peppers) June 2nd: Enter Sandman (Metallica) // Nightmare (Avenged Sevenfold) June 3rd: Toxicity (System Of A Down) // Carnivore (Body Count) June 4th: Nevermind (Nirvana) // Whatever (Adore Delano) June 5th: Sweet Child O’ Mine (Guns N’ Roses) // Born To Be My Baby (Bon Jovi) June 6th: Psychosocial (Slipknot) // Welcome to Horrorwood (Ice Nine Kills) June 7th: A Little Piece of Heaven (Avenged Sevenfold) // Enthrone (CHTHONIC) June 8th: Walk This Way (Aerosmith or Aerosmith, Run D.M.C.) // Bring The Noise (Public Enemy, Anthrax) June 9th: Rocket Man (Elton John) // Purple Haze (Jimi Hendrix) June 10th: Say It Ain’t So (Weezer) // Inside Out (Eve 6) June 11th: Letterbomb (Green Day) // Better (Guns N’ Roses) June 12th: I Write Sins Not Tragedies (Panic! At The Disco) // Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down (Fall Out Boy) June 13th: Combat Rock (The Clash) // Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols (The Sex Pistols) June 14th: Runaway Train (Soul Asylum) // Patience (Guns N’ Roses) June 15th: Dust N’ Bones (Guns N’ Roses) // Homebound Train (Bon Jovi)

For anyone interested, here are the tags I’ll be using to organize genders related to certain bands. No one has to use them, but I thought someone would be interested and I’m bored! Also, all of these terms have already been coined, by me or someone else, that’s why not everything has a tag

Guns N’ Roses - #nrosesgender

Bon Jovi - #bonjender // #bonjovigender

Motley Crue - #cruegender

Green Day - #greendaygender

Slipknot - #slipknotgender

Poison - #poisoningender

My Chemical Romance - #mychemancegender

The Clash - #clashgender

The Sex Pistols - #sextolgender // #sextolsgender

Avenged Sevenfold - #sevenfoldgender

Shinsei Kamattechan - #kamattegender

Red Hot Chili Peppers - #rhcpgender

Metallica - #metallicagender

Nirvana - #nirvanagender

Body Count - #bodycountgender

Linkin Park - #linkinian

Aerosmith - #aerosmithgender

Velvet Revolver - #velvolvergender

Quiet Riot - #quiotgender // #rietgender

[briamichellewrites]

70

Meow. Bark! When the animals heard a car approaching the house, they gathered at the front door. They anticipated the arrival of their humans. They greeted them as soon as they opened the door. You are home! Hello, humans! They said hello to them and tried not to step on their paws. It had been a long and emotional day. All they wanted to do was relax. Brad stayed at the hospital with Bria and Jon. He would be returning home later. Jon was the highlight of the day because he made Bria happy.

She had the biggest smile on her face when he walked in. He and Dave were both thrilled to have him there because they had been fans of his band, Bon Jovi, when they were younger. Mike remembered listening to them with Bria when they were hanging out at her "party house." She would play their greatest hits album repeatedly. He wished he could go back there. It was private.

He and Jason loved it because they could do whatever they wanted without their parents' knowledge. They never did anything illegal. Rather, they hung out and discussed topics they could not tell their parents. Independence was something they desired as teenagers and young adults. That house was where they had their first kiss. It was also where they got together. That house held so many wonderful memories. He wished he could return there and spend the afternoon.

Dave interrupted his memories by asking what he was thinking. He was simply thinking about innocence. What did he mean?

"Jon reminded me of when Bria, Jason, and I were younger. We would listen to his albums over and over. That reminded me of the house she lived in after graduating from high school. We called it 'the party house.'"

"Are they good memories?"

"Okay, yeah. It’s just… I do not even know what the correct term is. How did life go by so quickly? I guess that is what I am thinking about."

“I don’t know. It goes by before you know it."

“How was your appointment?”

He was so grateful that he pushed him to go. The therapist was an army veteran who had been diagnosed with PTSD. He had to retire due to his diagnosis. A veteran at the VA encouraged him to pursue a career in therapy. He was going to be evaluated for possible PTSD. How about his sleeping problems? He had a prescription for something to help him sleep. It was not addictive.

He felt relieved to hear that. Dave showed him the bottle. It included his name, instructions, and side effects. Good for him. His mental health was not something he should be embarrassed about. He gave a nod. That is what he learned from him, Bria, and Chester. They were both hungry but too tired to cook, so they looked in the refrigerator for leftovers. Dave asked him if he fed the animals. No, he had forgotten. He volunteered to do it.

After taking the dogs out, the rest of the evening was spent in the studio. Mike created beats that could be used on the band's next album, while Dave sat and listened. He needed to do something to help himself relax for the night. He always felt better after listening to music. Dave was just happy to be home, and it did not matter what they did as long as he was with his husband.

Jon and Brad did not stay long because she needed to rest. He had a few days before returning to New Jersey, so they made plans to meet again. If the situation were different, he would invite him over to hang out. Jon understood. When they arrived at the hotel where he was staying, they hugged and said goodbye. Brad returned to the car and drove home, listening to the radio. Ironically, Bon Jovi happened to be the song playing as he drove away.

You Give Love A Bad Name. 1986. He was twenty-three years old and attempting to make it as an actor. Brad Pitt was unknown to the general public at the time. A year later, he landed his first acting job. It was strange to look back and realize how far he would come. Time slipped past him. One moment he was William Bradley Pitt of Shawnee, Oklahoma. Then he became a Hollywood movie star.

He greeted Dave and Mike when he found them in the kitchen. They greeted him. They were all tired, so it was obvious that the night would be quiet. They talked while they ate. Brad was returning to the hospital the following morning. He would probably spend all day there. Mike and Dave decided to stay at home and catch up on housework because there was no reason for the three of them to be there. He was fine with that.

Have they taken the dogs out yet? If they had not already, he offered to do it. That was okay. They took them out when they arrived home. Dave thanked him for the offering. They said good night to Brad after finishing their dinners and went upstairs.

As they prepared for bed, Mike reminded him to take his medication. Oh, yeah. He opened the bottle and removed the necessary pills. They tasted terrible without water. He cupped his hands under the faucet and drank the water to wash away the taste. Mike had to laugh when he asked if that helped. Yes, it did. How did it taste? It had a chalky taste. He made a face.

“Ew.”

“I’m bringing a plastic cup up here tomorrow.”

“I’ll try to remind you.”

They slept late the next morning. Brad left a note informing them that he had taken the dogs out and left food for the animals. He would inform them when he was on his way home. The animals appreciated having their humans around. Instead of rushing somewhere, they stayed at home with them. They went out with the dogs for some exercise. They enjoyed chasing each other around the backyard.

Kate was chasing Misty when she abruptly came to a halt. She looked behind her and noticed her using the restroom. When she was finished, they resumed running around. Mike kept his phone in his pocket, just in case. He took it out after feeling it vibrate. It was Jason. He asked his brother why he was calling him, as he did not think he would be able to use his phone in rehab. Uh oh. Dave could tell by the tone of his voice and facial expressions that things were not going well.

"Jay, I am exhausted. I love you, but I need a stress-free day. You do not know what Dave, Brad, and I are going through. Bria is in the hospital with cancer. I will come to see you tomorrow, okay? Please give me 24 hours."

When he finished talking, he hung up frustrated. He asked what happened. Jason wanted him to attend a family therapy session. He seemed to feel the need to tell him something. Dave instructed him to take deep breaths. He did, and it helped him relax. Whatever it was, it could wait until the following day. He was at home, resting with his husband and pets.

After a while of playing, the dogs became tired. They ran back inside to get some water. Yum, Yum! It tasted delicious! The home was quiet and peaceful. Mike absorbed it for a moment. It was as if his stress level had decreased. Perhaps he and Dave could take a nap later. Just the two of them. That seemed like an amazing idea.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[sh4yisnothere]

“𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞. 𝐀 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬…”

𝓐𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 —

hello, my name is shayane but you can call me shay or ayane!! I’m fifteen years old going to sixteen soon (it is not soon at alll but let me be delulu)! I first heard about shifting in 2020… of course during the time of misinformation and pure chaos😭. Just glad I survived that. Anywho! I still have yet to shift and I hope it’s very soon.

I made this account out of random, im just here to be here honestly!

𝓡𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 —

I’m currently shifting to my teen fame dr, better cr, hogwarts dr, dazed and confused, and Mid90s (I have wayyyyy more but these are just my main main ones! As you can see I’m very indecisive and can’t choose.)

I’m Haitian and AA!

I love love love loveeee oldies songs

I just love watching movies and shows during my free time or reading!

𝓢𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐄 —

Waterfalls by TLC

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye

Oh Qué Será? By Willie Colón

You Give Love A Bad Name by Bon Jovi

Elenore by The Turtles

Something In My Heart by Michel’le

If I Ruled the World by Nas

Passin’ Me By by The Pharcyde

Jazz by A Tribe Called Quest

Break Stuff by Limpbizkit

Remember the Rain by The Sylvers

Be My Baby by The Ronettes

You’re Makin’ Me High by Toni Braxton

You Know I’m No Good by Amy Whinehouse

Sun is Shining by Bob Marley

Paradise City Guns N’ Roses

End of The Road by Boyz || Men

What You Waiting For by Gwen Stefani

Hella Good by No Doubt

You’re Not The Only One I Know by The Sundays

Back To Life by Soul || Soul

One of These Nights by Eagles

Can We by SWV Official

What Goes Around…Comes Around by Justin Timberlake

Blood On the Dancefloor by Michael Jackson

Nowhere Man by The Beatles

Try Again by Aaliyah

All There by Jeezy

Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

(my bad y’all I kinda went overload 😆)

𝓜𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐒 —

The outsiders, Child's play, Halloween 4 and he11raiser, Nightmare on elm st, friday the 13th part 4, the shining, aliens, fright night part 2, Halloween 2, possession, American werewolf, beetlejuice, Stranger Things, Ride along, Bad boys, Mean girls, Pretty Little Liars, Euphoria, It, Maze Runner, Skins, Clueless, The end of the f****g world, Gravity Falls, Fear street, Alice in the wonderland, Jumanji (all of them), Scary Movie, Coraline, Outer Banks, The Umbrella Academy, Lady Bird, Bridgerton, 10 things I hate about you , Girls Interrupted, Teen Wolf, Scream Queens, Trinkets, I am not okay with this, every marvel movie, The 100, The Originals, Snowfall, Boondocks, Descendants, Annie, Blood & Water, Dear white people, The hate u give, The beauty shop, Martin, A fresh prince of bel air, bad boys Pose, How to get away with murder, The Society, American Horror Stories, Us, Get Out, Juno, fight club, Gossip Girl, Diary of a wimpy kid, A series of unfortunate events, The hunger games, Waves, and etc