#codeine is a hell of a drug

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Guys if I've missed reblogs or things you've tagged me in, I do apologise. I am literally either in crippling pain or off my face on painkillers at the moment, there is no in between xD I will try to catch up but if I miss you out please don't think it's personal. I'm just as the same mental comprehension as Ozzy Osbourne after going on a bender in the 1980's at present, and desperately trying to behave like a normal person, hahaha!

I hope you're all well, besties <3

[chillywillycd-blog]

Townes Van Zandt comments that this was the first song he ever wrote. It tells the story of his woman spending all his money, drinking, and leaving subsequently her, then in the end turning to Codeine for his escape.

To get to the point of songwriting after taking to abusing prescription drugs feels like there's some gap in the reality of this timeline. I'm thinking either this song started out as something very different as his first song, or saying that he lived a hard life is the understatement of the century, or he's not 100% honest about this being his first song...

Along with his other comments about 'Pancho and Lefty" being written about some historical figures he heard about 2 weeks after writing the song, i'm confused by Townes' perception of time.

Or maybe he was just high when this was produced.

Or maybe as a non-song-writer, perhaps he, the song writer, has a very different meaning of song writing than what i perceive as an outsider.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Emotions | Sam Winchester x Angel!Fem!Reader

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Angel!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5521

Warnings: mentions of drug addiction, mentions of smut (MDNI this is an 18+ blog), mentions of iffy family dynamics

A/N: For this nonnie! I have a very deep love of music and a special connection with it, and pretty much all of my one-shot fics are gonna be titled after songs. If you'd like to connect with the music as well, here's a few songs I recommend reading while you listen to the chapter!

Emotions by Brenda Lee

In the Still of the Night by the Five Satins

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier

Snow Angel by Renee Rapp

Queue up on Spotify or your preferred streaming service, and happy reading!

General Writings Masterlist

Humans were curious. The more time you spent with them, the more you couldn’t understand why your father loved them so much. However, one human was beginning to pique your interest. His name was Sam Winchester. 

Your brother Castiel had been charged with rescuing Sam’s brother, Dean, from Hell. However, Zachariah had not given the word to begin the mission just yet. You, though, were charged with the care of Sam Winchester. 

He became interesting for a number of reasons. The Winchester boys had been of special interest to all of Heaven since their mother died in Azazel’s attack. You’d known of his existence and watched from afar as the sweet, intelligent young man became a cold shell of who he once was while his brother suffered in Hell. The demon Ruby— who you would be sure to kill as soon as you could get your hands on her— had been getting Sam addicted to the potent substance that was demon’s blood. If you had to compare it to a human drug, you’d heard many angels say it felt like a heroin addiction. 

Despite your disinterest in most of humanity, you were more compassionate toward them than most of your brothers and sisters. While some, like Uriel, were ruthless in their method to get humans on their side, you always took a more “humane” approach. No matter how many times humanity had broken your heart through their horrible mistakes leading to death and destruction, you still tried to show each human compassion. 

You watched from afar as Sam began to learn to exorcize demons with his mind. The experience was undoubtedly painful, and your anger with Ruby grew with each passing day. Always keeping your distance, though, because you knew now was not the right time to step in. Zachariah would give you the word when it was. 

You followed Sam down a darkened, busy street, keeping just far enough back that he wouldn’t be able to see you. He turned the corner onto what you assumed was another street, and you foolishly followed. Suddenly, you were pinned to the wall with a demon’s knife at your throat and an angry Sam staring down at you. 

“Who the hell are you?” the man spat, pressing the tip of the weapon into your throat forcefully. “Why are you following me?”

“Hello, Sam,” you said calmly. “My name is (Y/N). I’m here to help you.”

He scoffed. “What? Another demon coming to peddle your wares? I don’t think so.” The brunet stepped away from you and tried to exorcize you with his powers. 

You just remained still, large doe-eyes looking at him with a small smile playing on your lips. 

Sam then appeared scared. “What— What are you?”

“I’m an angel,” you replied evenly.

He laughed. “Right. C’mon, what are you really?”

You unfurled your large, beautiful wings and called upon a clap of thunder to ensure the shadow would be cast on the wall behind you. “I told you. I’m an angel.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t believe this.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked. “Why are you angry?”

He spun around to face you. “Why am I angry? My brother’s been dragged to Hell, and you’re asking me why I’m angry?”

You continued to look at him in confusion. 

“I prayed. Every day for the last year Dean was alive. Why didn’t one of you answer?” he finished.

“It wasn’t the right time,” you explained. “Father wouldn’t allow us.”

“Well, fuck all of you guys, then,” Sam spat.

You were intrigued and confused by his intense anger. “Your prayers are being answered now. Isn’t that all that matters?”

“Too little, too late,” he replied. “Now, leave me alone.”

You stared after him as he walked away. Didn’t he want your help? Why was he angry at you when you were simply obeying your father? His prayers were being answered, and he was cruel to you.

That should have enraged you. However, it only intrigued you even more.

***

You knew Sam had not told Ruby he’d seen you, which surprised you. Everything about this man was surprising you.

While his addiction to demon blood was horrific and disgusting to you, you were surprised how much… empathy, you believed the feeling was— you were starting to feel for him. He’d undoubtedly been manipulated by the demon into that state of being.

His incredible strength both physically and mentally was impressive. While he wouldn’t last a moment in a fight with you or any of your brothers and sisters, he was skilled in many different athletic pursuits. His interest in different philosophies was curious to you as well; most humans you'd come across were set in their ways with no interest in different points of view.

After your last conversation with him, you decided not to intervene unless he desperately needed you. And now, he desperately needed you.

Ruby had either knowingly or unknowingly sent him into a death trap. While Ruby conveyed she believed only two demons to be hiding in a warehouse, an entire lair of at least thirty laid in wait for the young man. You knew you’d have to get involved this time, no matter if Zachariah approved or not.

You watched from the skylights of the darkened warehouse as Sam crept around with Ruby following closely behind. Your father willing, you’d slit her throat with her own knife.

You could see the other demons beginning to creep in around Ruby and Sam. Sam was the first to notice something was wrong and spun around to face the demons behind Ruby.

You used your powers to appear behind a wire rack covered with boxes to have the element of surprise with the demons.

“Hey there, handsome,” one of the demons was telling Sam.

Another snarled, “And Ruby. I thought Lilith got rid of you.”

“Apparently, she didn’t do a very good job,” replied Ruby.

The demons had Sam and Ruby back to back as they closed in their circle around the two.

Taking out your blade, you stepped out into the dim light, heels clicking across the floor. All of the demons turned around to face you, as did Sam and Ruby.

“Wow, Ruby. Seriously? You’re working with an angel?” a demon snickered.

You didn’t allow any of the demons a chance to get another word in. You appeared behind the demon who had the nerve to speak up and plunged your blade through its vessel’s back.

A few of the demons tried to escape by fleeing their bodies, but you forced them back in. While you were compassionate, merciful would not be a word used to describe you. When you were crossed, you didn’t play nicely. 

A few demons tried to charge you, and you immediately reached out to two, grabbed their hands, and killed them while you used your free arm to plunge your blade through the other’s chest. With, in all honesty, very little effort, you managed to make your way through most of the demons. With the mess of dead bodies sprawled across the concrete floor, it made it easier to see what was left for you to deal with. That was when you noticed Ruby was gone, but Sam was still there, fighting demons with his demon knife. 

A demon behind Sam was preparing to stab him in the back, but you threw your angel blade through the demon’s throat just in time to save Sam. 

Slowly but surely, you made your way through the remaining demons. Sam panted from exhaustion and the few wounds he’d sustained but still stood with his shoulders squared. “I didn’t need saving,” he huffed.

“I don’t mean to offend you, but yes, you did,” you replied evenly. “I will admit, I’m disappointed your demon friend left so soon. I was looking forward to formally introducing myself.” 

Sam laughed, somewhere between mocking and a genuine laugh. “You were gonna kill her, weren’t you?”

“Without hesitation,” you nodded. “I know what she’s been doing, Sam. I know what you’ve been doing.” 

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business,” he said, his voice cold. 

“It is my business.”

“How?”

“Angels are only sent to earth for their missions; unless they’ve fallen,” you explained. “Like I told you before, you’re my mission.”

“And like I told you,” he sneered, “not interested.”

“I don’t understand,” you stated. “Isn’t this what you wanted? I’m answering your prayer. I thought you’d be happy.” 

“I told you; too little, too late—!”

“I’m not talking about the prayers for your brother anymore, Sam,” you cut him off. “I’m talking about your prayers for yourself.”

That seemed to quiet him down.

“I heard you. The first night you drank demon’s blood, you prayed. That was when I was assigned to you,” you told him. “Some of the angels believed you were too far gone. I, however, was the one to ask my superior if I could help you.” 

Tears welled in Sam’s eyes. “Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you save Dean?” 

“I wanted to,” you admitted, not quite understanding why you were spilling your secrets to a human.

He got angry again. “Why didn't you?!”

You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing. “It is not my place to question my superiors. I serve Heaven first; not you.”

“Well, find some other way to serve Heaven. I’m not interested,” he grumbled, turning away. You noticed how painfully he rolled his shoulder.

“I can fix that for you,” you said, stopping him in his tracks. 

“What?” Sam turned back around.

“Your arm.” You nodded in its direction. “And those gashes. They look like they’ll get infected if you don’t let me help you.” You stepped toward him, and he remained still.

His impressive stature was incredibly intimidating to you despite your angelic status. You had never felt such a feeling; only when you were in the presence of the archangels. Whatever this feeling was, you didn’t think you liked it.

“May I?” you asked, hesitantly reaching your fingers out toward his arm. 

Sam nodded, face drawn into hard lines.

You closed your eyes as you touched his shoulder to concentrate on sending your healing powers through his body. You didn’t miss the way his muscles tensed momentarily before relaxing under your touch. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

You nodded. 

Sam hesitated for a moment before asking, “ What’d you say your name was?”

“(Y/N),” you responded.

***

You watched through the window of the cabin he was hiding in as Sam fought with Ruby over you. You expected Ruby to be angry, but you didn’t expect Sam to defend you. 

“She’s an angel, Ruby, she’s not here to hurt me,” Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You don’t know angels, Sam. I do. They’re not the peaceful hippies the Bible makes them out to be,” Ruby snapped. “If she knew I was helping you, she’d probably smite me.”

“She does know,” Sam replied, almost too quietly for even your enhanced hearing. 

“What?! You told her?!”

“No, I didn’t, I—” Sam cut himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “She just knew, somehow.” 

Ruby clearly didn’t believe him. “Somehow,” she scoffed. “And somehow, I don’t believe you.”

“Whatever,” Sam huffed. He suddenly caught your eye in the window but covered it up by quickly looking back to Ruby. “I think you should go.”

She crossed her arms. “Seriously?” The demon rolled her eyes and began to walk toward the door. “Goodbye, Sam.”

You invited yourself into the room. “Is she gone?” you asked Sam, appearing in front of him.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, she’s gone.”

“Your motivations confuse me, Sam Winchester,” you stated bluntly.

He seemed to chuckle genuinely. “Why?”

“Do you not believe Ruby to be helping you? It seemed you couldn’t stand the sight of me less than twenty-four hours ago. Why would you kick her out after all that and cover for me?” you asked, head tilting in confusion.

You knew you weren’t supposed to question. You knew Sam was simply an assignment; there should be no desire for further questions exchanged. However, a nagging force in the back of your mind refused to let those questions remain internal.

“I don’t know,” he responded, seemingly earnest. 

Suddenly, a song began to play in the background. Your head turned to the source of the sound; a peculiar little box with a spinning disc on top of it. You swayed to the soft music emanating from it. “What is this?” you asked.

“Music,” Sam replied from behind you.

You turned to face him. “I know what music is, Sam. What is the little box?”

“A record player,” he replied, much closer to you than he had been when you first turned to the sound of the music.

“And what is this song?” you asked, dewey eyes shining in the dim light.

“Uh, one of the records they had in this old cabin. I think the band’s The Five Satins. ‘In the Still of the Night’,” he explained.

“I think I like this song,” you said, your voice taking on a peculiar lilt you’d never heard yourself speak with before. You suddenly realized how close Sam was to you and backed away. “Well, if you need anything,” you began, “I am never far from you.” And with that, you were gone.

***

“(Y/N)?” you heard Sam praying. “(Y/N), uh, I don’t know if you’re listening—”

With a quick flap of your wings, you appeared in front of Sam in his cabin. “I am,” you replied. 

“Oh, hey,” he snorted. He sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hands together and staring at the floor.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I don’t know what the right thing to do anymore is,” he admitted. Sam was suddenly embarrassed by what he’d said. “Uh, I don’t know why I said that…”

“Do not be embarrassed. I do not pass judgment on humans for their feelings,” you replied. 

That pulled a small smile from him. “Do you guys… not have feelings?”

“No,” you replied. “At least, I don’t think we do. Or, perhaps, what we experience as angels is too complex to be simplified into human emotion.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“I believe I may experience compassion, but I am not merciful. Those two traits I have seen go together in human manifestations. My loyalty to my father is incomparable to any human form of loyalty. Most humans I have come across sacrifice their loyalties quite easily,” you explained thoughtfully. 

“And by your father, you mean, God?” he asked. 

You nodded. 

Sam hesitated before asking his next question. “What’s he like?”

His question caught you off-guard; it wasn’t something you’d thought about before. “Well, humans describe him as—”

Sam shook his head. “I know what people make him out to be. What do you say?”

That question startled you even more, and all you could answer with was the truth. “I haven’t met him.”

Now, it was Sam’s turn to be caught off-guard. “Really?”

You nodded. “I’ve been around just about as long as the planet, and I’ve never met him once.”

Sam considered for a moment. “And you’re still loyal to him?”

“Well, I don’t necessarily have a choice in that matter,” you replied. “I am an angel. I was created for the purpose of my loyalty to my father and carrying out his missions.” His questions were beginning to get under your skin, and you’d never thought so long about those things before. 

“Well, how do you know your orders come from him if you’ve never met the guy?” Sam continued to press. “How do you know somebody’s not lying to—”

“My brothers and sisters would never lie to me,” you cut him off. Perhaps this is what “offense” felt like? “I don’t believe lying to be something we are capable of.”

Sam took a deep breath and flexed his eyebrows. “Whoa, didn’t mean to strike a nerve, there.”

He did. “You didn’t,” you responded. 

A spell of silence was cast over you. 

“What’s it like?” Sam asked. 

You tilted your head in confusion. 

“That blind faith,” he embellished. “How do you do it?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I just always have. I am a Seraph; I believe ‘blind faith’ is my purpose.”

“Oh, seraphim’s a real thing? Are you guys the, uh, high-rankers?”

You nodded. “I don’t think of myself in terms of my rank, but I am superior to those in my garrison. My superior is Zachariah; the only one of us in direct communication with the archangels.” You felt yourself snap out of it. “I… don’t know why I told you that.”

“Well, I guess we’re even then,” Sam smiled. 

***

You began to see less and less of Ruby as days went by, and for that, you were grateful. It seemed she was only around for Sam to feed from her.

“What does she say the demon blood will do for you?” you asked Sam, sitting beside him on the edge of the cabin’s roof.

Sam gave you a curious look but answered your question anyway. “It’ll make me strong enough to kill Lilith.”

“And… why do you want to do that?” you asked trepidatiously. 

He answered your question quite blankly, staring ahead. “Revenge. For my brother.”

You nodded. “And what do you believe getting revenge will do for you?”

That seemed to challenge him. “I don’t know.”

“I have been with you since you were young, Sam. I watched you go off to college, I watched Azazel kill Jessica, and I watched every fight between you and your father.”

Sam turned his head toward you as you talked, a pensive look on his face. 

“And I think I decided that all of those fights between you two happened because of how similar the two of you are.” You turned your head toward him, the sunset casting a heavenly glow across Sam’s face. “This is one of those things you two have in common; vengeance. I cannot decide if that’s a good or a bad quality, if I’m honest.”

Sam huffed out a small laugh. “That’s fair.” His hair fell in front of his eyes as he looked down at his hands folded in his lap. His eyebrows drew together, and you just watched him carefully. “You’ve never wanted payback? Not even once?”

You shook your head. “That’s not part of my job. I am a warrior, but I don’t feel emotional attachment to my fights. And, rationally, I know revenge is pointless. It doesn’t change the past. It can only make for a worse future.”

Sam was silent for a moment. “Wow. For a… shiny, hard, plastic, emotionless angel, that’s pretty profound.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “I am not plastic or shiny.”

He laughed. “No, you’re not. Just an analogy.”

“You humans and your words,” you sighed. “The English language is by far the most confusing.”

“Why do you say that?” Sam chuckled. 

“I speak every language ever created, Sam,” you explained. “Even Enochian is simpler than English.”

The young man laughed. “For an angel, you’ve got a good sense of humor.”

You tilted your head. “I didn’t know I did, but thank you.”

***

It had been about three months since Dean’s sentencing. The angels began to talk about how he’d said “yes” to Alistair and was beginning to torture other souls in the pit. However, you knew it was best not to bring that fact up to Sam. 

The brother in your care was still not doing very well. His addiction was getting worse, and his anger at himself for not being strong enough to take care of his most recent demon hunt. You watched through the window as Sam and Ruby shouted at each other, and their anger eventually devolved into Ruby kissing Sam. 

You were stunned, and something you’d never felt before flooded your chest. Whatever this feeling was, you hated it. You backed away from the window you’d become accustomed to staring through and walked off. You felt your vessel stumbling rather than walking, and you were unsure why your chest hurt. You stumbled through the night forward against a tree and held yourself there. 

Whatever was happening to you, one thing was for sure that you could no longer deny: you were beginning to feel.

***

A few days went by, and you hadn’t seen Sam. In fact, you refused to answer his many prayers. He begged you to come to him and told you he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Eventually, your resolve broke. 

“Hey,” he said, standing from his chair and seeming startled by your appearance. “Wh— Where’d you go? Why didn’t you answer?”

“Why did you have sex with Ruby? Didn’t you know I was watching?” you asked, large eyes holding a pleading innocence. 

Sam seemed caught off-guard. “(Y/N), I haven’t had sex with her in weeks. Wh— Why do you care about that, anyway?”

“I saw you two. She kissed you. I know what comes after that, Sam, I’ve been around for thousands of years,” you continued. 

Sam shook his head. “She kissed me. And then, I pushed her off. I haven’t seen her since.”

You tilted your head. “Why did you do that?”

“ ‘Cause. I couldn’t do it,” he shrugged. 

“Why?”

“ I’m not into voyeurism,” he smirked. “I knew you were watching. I haven’t had sex with her since you showed up.”

You thought for a moment, realizing he was telling the truth. “Oh.” Was this feeling… relief?

Sam gave you a curious look, and you averted his gaze. “Why’d you wanna know?”

You shook your head. “Not important. How have you been these last few days?”

“Honestly?” He scratched the back of his neck. “Not good. The addiction… it’s, uh—”

“Bad?” you asked. 

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“I’m sorry,” you told him. 

“ ‘S not your fault,” Sam shrugged. 

“That is much different from what you told me when we first met,” you said. 

Sam snorted. “Yeah, I was angry then. Now, I know you.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you were surprised at the feeling. 

***

You hummed the tune of “In the Still of the Night” by the Five Satins, a song that Sam had introduced to you. 

The man in question sat at the cabin’s kitchen table hunched over his laptop. Sam had suggested you come inside with him since you’d be keeping an eye on him anyway. You told him if Ruby came, you’d kill her, but he just shook his head. “If she knows you’re here, she’s not coming,” he’d told you. 

“You’ve got a pretty voice,” Sam commented. 

You stopped humming. “Thank you. When the cherubs in my garrison were young, they liked when I’d sing to them.” You resumed your song. 

A few minutes went by before Sam spoke up. “Can I ask you something?” 

You stopped humming again and nodded. 

“Why haven’t you gone after Ruby yet?”

Before you could think, you answered, “Because I knew it would upset you.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Sam’s lips. “I appreciate that.”

You smiled in response. 

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile,” Sam told you. 

You continued to stare at him with your dewey doe eyes. 

“Can I ask you something else?” 

You nodded again.

“Whose body are you in?” he asked. 

You hummed as you thought. “I’ve been with her for centuries. She was being abused by her husband and begging for a way out. You see, angels have to get consent from their vessels. She wanted me to use her body to carry out my father’s mission.”

Sam nodded. 

“I quite enjoyed her company,” you continued. “I’ve never told any of my brothers or sister about this, but the day her soul moved on was the first time I ever felt something like… sadness.”

“So, angels, is it like demons where the vessel’s soul takes a back seat?” Sam questioned, his interest seeming very genuine. 

You shook your head. “Not with her, it wasn’t. She could force me out whenever she wanted, but she told me she preferred my company to that of her husband’s.”

Sam nodded but seemed pensive. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he replied. “It’s just… It’s a lot to take in.”

“I can understand that.” You paused for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever spent this long in the company of a human; aside from my vessel.”

“Really?” Sam asked.

You nodded. “I was taught not to spend time with the humans I was charged with. We were always told that the more time you spend with them, the more you become like them. And if you’re a human, you are flawed. You can’t  truly live in service of my father while human.” 

“That sounds kinda fucked up though, (Y/N),” Sam told you. “I mean, don’t you think it’s… restrictive? Limiting?”

You considered. “I guess so. But… I’m sure my father had good reason. He wouldn’t try to hurt us.” 

“I don’t think he would, either,” Sam told you. “But I do think he did that for self-serving reasons.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“He creates these… beings— you and the other angels— to bend to his every whim. Think about it. He makes you emotionless, so you don’t question his ‘will’ or… rebel,” Sam explained. “He needs you to be perfectly loyal.”

Sam’s words swirled around in your head. “You’re confusing me,” you said, breath quickening.

Sam shook his head. “I’m not trying to. But you’re smart. I’m just trying to make you think.”

“No human has ever challenged me the way you have,” you responded. “I appreciate it.”

“You do?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

You nodded. “I’ve been around a very long time. Things can get monotonous. It is… refreshing to meet someone like you.”

The corners of Sam’s lips turned upward.

The two of you went back to silence, and suddenly, Sam was up and running to the bathroom.

“Sam?” you asked, running after him.

When you got to him, he was hunched over the toilet bowl vomiting. 

Hesitantly, you reached toward him and began to rub small circles over his back. You remembered your vessel telling you that’s what she’d do to her children when they were sick. 

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “I’m here.”

When Sam was done, he slumped to the floor, curling up into a ball. Sweat covered every inch of his body, and he began to shake feverishly.

You knew it was the withdrawals from the blood after not seeing Ruby for days. You wanted nothing more than to help him through it, but your healing powers couldn’t assist with demonic workings of any kind. What you could do, though, is put him to sleep. You ran your hand over his hair and got up from the floor.

After grabbing a blanket off his bed, you brought it back to the bathroom and sat back down beside him. When you’d tossed the blanket over him, you helped Sam rest his head on your lap. Then, you went back to running your hand over the brunet’s hair and used your powers to put him to sleep. His shaking subsided, and his breathing relaxed. You stayed with him through the rest of the night.

***

When Sam woke up laying against you, he immediately seemed embarrassed. He jerked back from you. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s what I’m here for.”

Sam leaned forward hesitantly. He kept pausing as his face got closer to yours, seemingly to ensure you weren’t uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable wasn’t quite the word you’d use; there were a million thoughts running through your mind. And yet, you couldn’t string one coherent sentence together. 

You tilted your chin up, and it was all the confirmation Sam needed. His kiss was gentle when he first connected your lips. You responded, almost completely frozen, but still moving your lips in time with his.

Sam’s kiss got more desperate, and he pulled you across his lap, wrapping his large hands around your hips and back. 

And then, he was gone. You were confused only momentarily as you became aware of Zachariah’s presence in front of you.

“I know what you’ve been doing, (Y/N),” Zachariah chastised. 

You hung your head in shame. “I’m sorry, Zachariah. I let myself get too close to Sam Winchester, and—”

Zachariah cut you off. “Yes. You did. I’m disappointed in you.” He stalked around you, his multiple sets of wings encircling and taunting you. “You were one of my best, (Y/N). And now, I’m going to have to let you go.”

Your eyes widened, and you looked up at your superior. “Wait, please! I’m sorry!”

He patted your cheek. “I know you are. But you turned your back on us, (Y/N). You turned your back on our father.”

Tears welled in your eyes. 

“Ah! That. That, right there.” He caught the tear on his first finger as it slipped down your cheek. “Feeling. Feelings are human. You’ve changed, my dear sister.” 

“I’m sorry,” you cried softly. 

“I told you that Sam Winchester is a lost cause. I knew something like this would happen, but you? You didn’t listen. Goodbye, sister.”

And with that, you were sent barreling down to earth. The fall was incredibly painful; your wings feeling like they were being burnt off your body, each feather leaving ripples of searing heat in its wake. 

Nothing could stop you barreling toward the earth. The speed of your fall began to take a toll on you, and your vision faded to black. 

***

You woke up flat on your back in the middle of nowhere. Your limbs ached, and your vessel’s body was undoubtedly broken. Using your weakened powers, you healed your body enough to be able to stand. When you’d gotten your wits about you, you would heal yourself completely. 

You walked through the woods you’d landed in the middle of. The morning sun was still rising, the birds chirped, and light streamed through the trees. All at once, the reality of your situation hit you, and you cried.

You cried for your brothers and sisters you’d never see again; very few ever came to earth. You weren’t sure how you’d get to Sam without your wings, but you needed to see him. This feeling of need was still foreign to you, and you couldn’t decide if you liked how it felt.

All that time you’d spent in service of Heaven and of your father, and you were cast out as if you didn’t matter at all. You knew getting so close was wrong, but you hadn’t expected such harsh treatment. In all your years of being alive, you had never made a mistake. And after just one, you were kicked out? 

On the other hand, though, crying was freeing. Maybe Sam was right. Why would your father restrict you from feeling?

For a moment, the world was quiet. All you could hear was your soft sniffles, the birds chirping, and the wind rustling the leaves of the trees. You took a deep breath, and for the first time, life felt beautiful.

***

Sam was praying to you, and you had no way of responding to him. Slowly but surely, you were making your way back to him. You could feel his soul calling to you, and it only spurred you on to continue walking. As an angel, you had no need for sleep or eating. And so, you walked continuously for five days; each step making Sam’s essence grow stronger. You could feel yourself getting closer to him.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” you heard Sam calling to you. “I don’t know if you’re even still listening to me, but I’m sorry for scaring you off. I— I shouldn’t have done what I did. Just… come back. Please.”

It broke your heart that you couldn’t get to him sooner, and you mentally begged him to wait for you. 

And finally, on the sixth day, you found Sam’s cabin. Joy and relief flooded your chest, and you smiled widely. You ran through the front door, and Sam jerked out of his chair with his gun in hand. When he realized who you were, he dropped his gun to the floor in surprise. “(Y/N)?”

“Hello, Sam,” you smiled, tears rimming your eyes.

“Wh— What happened? Why’d you leave?” he asked.

“I didn’t. Zachariah brought me back to Heaven, and… he took my wings,” you explained, looking down at your shoes. 

Sam’s confused and angry stare turned to his familiar puppy-dog-eyed stare. “What, why?” 

“I’m a fallen angel now. I betrayed Heaven,” you responded.

“By doing what?” he asked. “I kissed you, you didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, I did,” you assured him, stepping closer to him. “I started to feel. And… feel for you.”

Sam’s soft gaze flooded your chest with warmth. He used his first two fingers to tilt your chin up toward his and closed the space between your lips. 

You and Sam weren’t perfect in any sense. But you would take whatever you two were over your shiny, hard, plastic, emotionless past. 

Forever taglist is open; series rewrite taglist is closed!

[septemberlikeastorm]

I MADE THE PLAYLIST

I don't want to share my Spotify in here though, so i just wrote down every song and why i picked it

(unfortunately, Hozier doesn't write that much about true healthy love so a lot of them i picked off of vibes and melody, and most of them are my own interpretation of the song) (sorry)

Oshamir but it's just Hozier (playlist)

NFWMB, Hozier (Qimir to Osha and vice versa, possessiveness in a gentle way, letting your lover do whatever they want because you know they're yours at the end of the day)

It Will Come Back (Qimir to Osha, not being able to have a casual relationship without coming back, comparing the to a beast that has been fed)

Would That I, Hozier (pure vibes)

Wasteland, Baby!, Hozier ( both of them, wanting to watch the world burn with your lover)

Be - Acoustic, Hozier (Qimir to Osha, wanting your lover to be themselves, making you happy in return)

Like Real People Do, Hozier (Both of them, knowing your lover has a complicated past but opting to ignore it in favor of loving them)

Work Song, Hozier (Qimir to Osha, loving someone so much it makes you sick, being able to come back to them even in death)

Francesca, Hozier (both of them, going through hell to see your lover, and still being willing to do it again if there's a chance of seeing them again)

Shrike, Hozier (vibes)

Moment's Silence (Common Tongue), Hozier (Both of them, your worries going away when kissing-or sleeping with- your lover)

Arsonist's Lullabye, Hozier (Qimir and Osha, having destructive tendencies, a beast you have to tame but never kill)

De Selby (Part 1), Hozier (vibes)

De Selby (Part 2), Hozier (vibes)

No Plan, Hozier (Qimir to Osha, living your life carelessly and freely once you let your emotions go and love fully)

Nobody, Hozier (Qimir to Osha, having lived a long life and traveled everywhere but still discovering love and new things with your lover)

Jackie And Wilson, Hozier (vibes but also Qimir daydreaming about the two of them since day 1)

First Light, Hozier (vibes, but also feeling like you've just seen light for the first time when you meet your lover)

Abstract (Psychopomp), Hozier (vibes)

Unknown/Nth,Hozier (vibes but also Qimir to Osha, being unknown and lonely-after your lover died but shhh)

Movement, Hozier (Qimir just being whipped)

Sedated, Hozier (vibes)

Angel Of Small Death & The Codeine Scene, Hozier (Qimir to Osha, comparing a woman to a drug, and an angel of "small death" -euphemism for orgasm.)

Talk, Hozier (Qimir to Osha. That's it that's the tweet)

From Eden, Hozier (Qimir to Osha, seeing your past self in your lover, lucifer falling in love with eve)

In A Week, Hozier, Karen Cowley (dying together, i just thought it fit them)

Foreigner's God, Hozier (pure vibes)

That You Are, Hozier, Bedouine (vibes)

screammmm bestie this is??? so thoughtful????? the vibes are impeccable???? i could not peck them if i tried??????? i'm tryna peck em bro but i can't you've outdone yourself you simone biles-d it you stuck the damn landing

[pedrostylez]

Something Else- pt. 6

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: Benny's fight and the aftermath

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 4.7k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened, ptsd hinted at, protected p in v sex, drinking and eating, fighting eludes to violence but nothing graphic, oral f receiving, mention of drugs

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday! Tuesday will bring another drabble about Anna and Santiago, so be on the lookout for that as well. Thank you for you continued interest, and I hope you enjoy! Please support by commenting, sending me thoughts, and reblogging. I appreciate every single one of you who reads this!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @bluetattoos

The car ride to the gym is awkward, to say the least. Instead of the original plan, you and Anna sitting in the back and Santiago and Frankie in the front, Anna is quick to sit in the passenger seat and says she’s feeling sick, not wanting to make it worse by sitting in the back. 

Frankie is quick to agree, sliding in next to you and grabbing your hand and squeezing. The dark backseat of the truck pulls you closer to him, tilting toward him and his warm shoulder. “All good?” He whispers in your ear once Santiago has pulled away from the curb, trying to have his own whispered conversation with Anna. 

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Yeah.” You squeeze his hand back, bumping his shoulder. “You?”

He sighs, giving you a nod with a smile before turning his attention to the front to observe Anna and Santiago. Frankie is tense, his shoulders tight and arms rigid. He keeps holding your hand, smoothing his thumb over your palm, but there is an unspoken annoyance that he is keeping under the surface, choosing instead to focus on what is directly in front of him. 

You move your hand to his knee, giving him a small shake. He’s delayed in bringing it eyes back to you, but softening upon seeing you looking at him with a questioning gaze. He leans in to kiss your cheek, moving to your ear. “I’ll tell you later?”

You give him a small smile, accepting his answer and leaning against his shoulder for the rest of the drive. 

Frankie does not want to tell you anything. It’s too soon. 

He’s convinced he’s going to sabotage his relationship with you before it has even really begun, all because Santiago wants to do this shit again. 

“We can get that remaining money, Fish.” Pope explained, driving over to your place with the music low. “Will took note of the coordinates, and with you having your license back, we can–”

“No, Pope.” Frankie states, shaking his head. “I can’t be doing that shit again. I can’t kill people again–”

“It won’t be like that!” Pope exclaims, hitting the steering wheel with his right hand. “Shit, Frankie. We don’t have to do any of that stuff like before. It’s simple- fly the helicopter, load up, and leave. We can even leave some of it behind, wait another year and get the rest.”

The conversation had ended after that, Frankie shaking his head in anger at the thought of it. What the hell was Pope thinking? They had all risked their lives, lost Redfly, and they had barely made it back to where they were now. The more he thought about it, the more that Frankie itched for a line of coke on the dashboard right now. 

Pope tried to continue to convince Frankie, all the way up to your door. Frankie wouldn’t knock until Pope stopped, but then he started right back up again. In a hushed tone, Frankie turned to him, “You don’t fucking say a word of this to her. Got it?”

Pope’s eyes widened, confused. “What?”

“I haven’t told her. And I don’t even want to go. Keep your fucking mouth shut.” Frankie muttered, listening to you and Anna speaking through the door, swinging open to reveal you both. Frankie turned to look at you, and noticed Anna’s discomfort. He could sense the tension, but wasn’t sure if it was from you and Anna, or from him and Pope. 

And now, stepping into the gym with you under his arm, he still doesn’t think he can relax. To be honest with himself, Pope suggesting that shit again is having him reeling. It was fine before–he was single most times, he didn’t care what happened to him, and money was money. He was there for his friends who needed it. Money could fuel his habits, and he could go about his life. 

But looking down at you when you notice Will and give him a wave, seeing the smile on your face, he’s not convinced he needs to be doing that shit anymore. “Hey Fish!” Will calls, wrapping one of his arms around you in a side hug after Frankie released you. “You brought our girl!”

Frankie gives a quiet nod, smirking at how you push Will’s shoulder and turn to Frankie. You always turn to him. “Why do they call you Fish?”

“He can down a pitcher of water like it isn’t anyone’s business, and swim between islands like he’s lived in the water his whole life. Catfish it is.” Will answered for him, patting his back before moving beyond you to greet Pope. 

Frankie appreciates that Will didn’t divulge that a pitcher of water was really a pitcher of beer when they were off base the first time– “You sure you’re okay?” You ask quietly, a crease between your brows forming. “I know you said to talk later but if you’re not feeling it anymore we could just leave?”

He sighs, bringing his thumb up to the crease between your eyes and smoothing it out. “I’m alright, just…observing. Are you alright? Anna seemed…concerned when we got to your place.”

Your eyes dart over his shoulder to where Anna is standing and back to him. “She asked me how we were and I said we were good…and then…” You trail off, thinking. “I maybe broke the bubble that she lives in.”

Frankie hums, looking over to Pope and Anna and seeing that Pope is already staring at him, nodding in his direction for Frankie to come talk. Anna has her eyes down, looking at her phone and blindly sitting in one of the reserved chairs on the other end from where you’re standing. He turns to you and takes a deep breath. “I’ll be right back. Do you want a drink?”

You shake your head, taking a seat in one of the chairs in the middle and waving him off. 

You cross your legs as you watch Frankie walk toward Pope, following him over to the food and drink stand. When your eyes flick over to Anna, her nose is in her phone, ignoring the rest of the world around her. “Hey,” You say, clearing your throat in the hopes to get her attention. 

She lifts her head, eyes darting between yours. “Yeah?”

“I shouldn’t have…we should talk about Brad.” You wince, sliding over to the seat next to her. She seems to shrink away, but you’re convinced you’re imagining things. 

She stares at you for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Brad? What about him?” She says quietly, putting on this smile that feels fake. 

You glance over at the food stand where Frankie and Pope are heading back, each with a cup in both hands. “Well…I didn’t mean to catch you off guard-”

“You didn’t.” Anna jumps in, shaking her head and looking over to Santiago. “We can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” She asks, turning back to her phone and shutting you out. 

You briefly nod, sliding back into the seat you started in and looking over to Frankie. You offer a smile as he hands you a cup. “I told you not to get me anything.”

“It’s rum and coke, couldn’t resist.” He winks, taking a sip of his own cup. “I got Sprite if you want to cleanse your palette in between.”

You hum, taking a sip and leaning into him for a moment before the fight starts. He wraps his arm around you, planting a kiss on your temple before leaning back. “I should have picked you up solo.” He mumbles, squeezing you tighter as you begin to laugh. 

“Yeah, you should’ve.”

The fight felt surreal. Benny was the last fighter, nervously pacing in the locker room enough times that Will did not sit with you guys until he got in the ring. Will looked nervous for his brother, but happily cheered him on once the fight started. 

Benny was a natural; quick, powerful, and knew how to take a punch. The first time that his opponent punched him in the face, you gasped, grabbing Frankie’s arm in worry. But Frankie told you he was okay, and Benny whipped around and rocked his opponents head back with two quick punches. 

When his opponent was defeated, Benny looked over to where you all were sitting and raised his arms in excitement. You couldn’t help but also lift your arms, cheering him on with the rest of the crowd. When you turn to Frankie, smile still on your face in excitement, he’s smiling and reaching for you. 

You jump up and down in front of him, his smile growing wider. “That was awesome!”

“You liked that?” Frankie asked, hands resting on your arms. You nod your head enthusiastically, wrapping one arm around his waist. 

“Benny was crazy up there.” You breathe out, glancing over his shoulder to see Anna and Pope in a similar position you’re in. Benny steps out of the ring and down the half flight of stairs, being congratulated by the surrounding people before making his way to your group. The gym is quickly clearing out, people filtering through the chairs to get a last drink and head out for the night. 

“Congrats man!” Pope exclaims, patting him on the back with one hand wrapped up in Anna’s. Her eyes are flicking between you and Frankie, looking up at Pope and frowning. 

“Thank you, thanks.” Benny says, breathing a sigh of relief. “Another quick check for the bank.”

“Won’t be the only one, man. Soon there’ll be more.” Pope nods, smiling at him briefly. Benny’s eyebrows furrow and Frankie tenses up beside you, stiff and uncomfortable against you. You look up at him, squeezing your arm around his torso to try and get his attention but he stays focused ahead, jaw clenched. 

Will glances your way briefly with a small smile on his face as if he is in the know, taking a double take at Frankie’s demeanor. He frowns, looking to you again with an apologetic nod before asking “All good, Fish?”

Frankie takes a deep breath, nodding. He tries to clear his throat, struggling to find the words. “Yeah…yeah, uh. We’re gonna–”

“We’re going to walk back. I’m kinda hungry so Frankie is going to get me some food and then we will just keep going.” You butt in, giving Will a look with widened eyes. He watches you for a moment, nodding before you turn your attention to Pope and Anna. 

Anna looks like she wants to argue, but Pope gives a small smile. “Be careful, walking home.”

You pull on Frankie, letting him take the first step toward the door with his arm still slung around your shoulder. He’s less tense as you step out with him, the fresh air giving you both a breath of life, his eyes finding yours as he slides his hand down your shoulder to your fingers. “Are you sure you want to walk?”

You nod, putting on a smile for him as you squeeze his hand. “Yeah, I think it will be better to walk, don’t you?”

He agrees, taking slow steps next to you in the direction of your apartment. His fingers drift from yours, reaching up to the back of his head to scratch under his hat. “I don’t want to keep you waiting, sweetheart.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I just…I’m not really proud of who I used to be, and what we all did the last time we were in South America and…Pope wants to do a new round of it.”

You listen intently, shoving your hands in your pockets and looking over at him. He’s fidgeting, anxious and clearly upset. “Why does he want to ‘do a new round’?” You question quietly. The silence is loud in your ears, aware of every other thing happening around you. The bang of club doors, cars driving by, lightings flickering-it all is horribly obnoxious with Frankie staring at the sidewalk. 

As you take more steps further with Frankie beside you, you wonder if he will ever respond. It isn’t a far walk, but with you both taking your time, you’re pretty sure he has been silent for more than five minutes, thinking to himself and figuring out what he wants to say.

You look forward and see your front door just ahead, wanting to rush inside. Maybe Frankie needs to be behind the door, quiet and safe–

“Because we left a lot of money behind.” Frankie finally spits out, looking over at you and back to the sidewalk. “And he wants to load up on as much of it as he can before bringing it back, putting it into safe accounts and doing it again in a year.”

You’ve reached your door, standing outside it together with your key clenched in your hand. The idea of so much money that it is worth going back to South America doesn’t make sense to you. “Is that what Anna was talking about?” You voice your inner thoughts out loud, watching Frankie’s eyes widen. “She said Santiago was going to be in South America for a month. Is that what he told her?”

As you unlock the door, Frankie stands at the threshold, not taking a step in. “I’m sure he didn’t tell her the whole truth.” He mumbles, shuffling from foot to foot. 

You look back at him from setting down your bag, wondering why he hasn’t stepped inside. “Frankie, come in and shut the door?” You ask quietly, watching his shoulders sag as he strides in, carefully turning the knob as he shuts the door behind him. “Now just, sit down okay? Do you want water or something?”

He nods, taking off his hat and leaning forward into his hands. He’s still so jittery, and what’s worse is you don’t know how to help. You set a glass of water on the coffee table in front of him, sitting down with your leg pressed against his and resting your hand on his back. “Tell me what you’re comfortable with, Frankie.”

“God I don’t deserve you.” He breathes out, shaking his head and leaning toward you to grab your hand. “I know it’s only been a couple weeks–”

“Frankie,” You stop him, rubbing his back and giving him a smile. “Just tell me.”

Frankie did tell you. He couldn’t remember much from the mission because he had blacked out most of it, pushed into this headspace that he gets into when flying, mixed with the anxiety of the safety of his squad that made his mind fall blank until he was trying to control the crash of the helicopter. 

He tells you this, and goes on about how they had to travel through the Andes Mountains, how his donkey was killed by a fall and how everyone reacted poorly-unfazed. How they had to burn money to stay warm, and how the kid from the village shot and killed one of their own. How no one dares talk about him now, even though all the money they brought back with them is in a trust for his kids.

You sit quietly throughout, stroking your thumb over his and squeezing his hand to let him know that you’re listening when he pauses. He tells you about his drug problem before going to South America, and how coming home after the disaster of a trip only made his itch for it worse. How he pretends to drink a beer when he is in public with his friends, because he wants to keep them safe without drawing attention to himself.

“I’ve been clean for two years.” He says quietly, looking up into your eyes again and shaking his head. “I think Pope was trying to wait and make sure I was sober before suggesting we try again.”

“Why ‘Pope’?” You ask just as quietly back, eyes wide and expectant. “You’re Catfish, and he’s Pope?”

“He’s always been…the savior. He always has a plan, brings us together.” Frankie mumbles, shaking his head. “But I don’t think he’s thought this through. I…I want to leave it behind, that whole ordeal.”

You shake your head in confusion. “Why not? Why can’t you? Can’t you just…tell him no?”

Frankie sighs, feeling tears burn at the back of his eyes, threatening to spill over. He’s trying to convince himself that he shouldn’t cry in front of you yet, no matter how comforting you can be. “If…If I don’t go then, they all will go through with it anyways. And they won’t have a pilot and…god they might hold it against me.”

“No.” You affirm, scooting closer to him. “No, Frankie, they wouldn’t hold it against you.” 

“Not outwardly.” He mumbles, tilting his head down and looking at your coffee table. Anything to not look you in the eye right now. “But…it’s a lot of money to leave there.”

Your silence is enough to tell him that you are thinking that it is a lot of money. Your fingers squeeze around his, asking him silently to look up at you. When he gets the courage and does so, your eyes are shining with your own tears ready to flow over your lashes. He thinks you look pretty, sad and upset for him, and he feels his heart break. “It’s not worth that type of money to lose yourself.” 

He stares at you, trying to process your words as you tilt your head, moving your hands to stroke the back of his head and the hair there. He closes his eyes, pulling his lips into his mouth and breathing as slowly as he can through his nose. It’s not worth that type of money to lose yourself. You were right. He could feel it, pooling in his stomach and soothing his nerves at the thought that he might not have to go through with this. 

When he opened his eyes again, seeing your own cheeks flushed and eyes sad, the anxiety came back. The feeling of your fingers in the back of his hair, twisting and untwisting his curls was the only thing keeping him from fully spiraling, leaving your apartment and finding his dealer he knew would be in some dark alley across town. He reached up to your wrist, pressing himself closer to you and making sure to keep your hand on him, sighing out when you opened up to him and presented your lips sweetly. 

He could get lost in you right now. He wants to get lost in you right now. Your mouth against his is the only comfort he thinks he needs. Your tongue slipping against his, sighing out as your other hand comes up to his cheek, stroking that bald spot on his jaw that he’s always hated, and your knees that you somehow got onto pressing against his thigh. He pulls away from you, chest heaving and swallowing thickly. “I don’t think I can leave them to do it themselves. I wouldn’t forgive myself.” He says gruffly, opening his eyes to yours. 

You’re searching-for something he doesn’t think he can give you. You finally whisper out, “I understand.” 

He feels his chest collapse in on itself, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes as he leans forward to press his forehead against your shoulder. You tighten your grip around the nape of his neck, shuffling around until you are in his lap, holding him steady as he tries to push down the overwhelming feeling to give up. You’re shushing him, stroking his hair and saying things that he can’t hear as his ears ring. 

He grips around your hips, pulling you closer to him and gasping at the feeling of your warm center against his. He can get lost in this. He doesn’t have to think, if he gets lost in you. “Please.” His own voice sounds different to his ears, the sound of desperate want leaking from his mouth is not something he’s ever heard. 

Your eyes darken, mouth parting as you dart your look from his eyes to his mouth, down to his hands that are squeezing you tighter. “Frankie, I don’t know that you’re-”

“Querida,” He interrupts, pushing his chest against yours. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” You whisper, massaging your fingers into his scalp again. 

His eyes flutter closed, taking a deep breath. “I want you, if you want me.”

From then on it’s silent. No words spoken between you, only the sound of you breathing and moaning, Frankie groaning and flicks of eyes to each other to check in on the other person. You’re quick to pull his shirt off, his lips attaching to your exposed collarbone and adjusting to lay you flat on the couch. Your head propped on the arm rest and tilted back at the feeling of his lips trailing down your sternum, tongue peeking out to swirl against the button of your jeans. He watches you intently as his fingers fumble with the zipper, pulling them down with a grunt. 

He’s quick to bring his mouth to your center, relaxing at the sound of your sigh and your fingers in his hair. He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking lightly as he trails his fingers down and fills your center. Two fingers push in, your hips jutting down to meet him at the feeling. He curls his fingers to feel you pull on his hair, drooling over your hole with a groan. He needs to feel you, needs to get lost in you. He swears that this will distract him, unaware of your orgasm until his fingers slide more easily through your folds. He pulls off of you enough to look down at his fingers again, continuing his movements as you try to squirm away from him. 

He knows the feeling is overwhelming, slowing his fingers until he can pull them away from you and up to your clit for a soft circling. You whine, pulling at his hair again how he craves and dragging him up your body to seal your lips with his. 

When your hands leave his hair he almost stops you to put them back, but then feels your shaking fingers at his pants. He helps, pulling them down as you lower the zipper while sealing a mark into your neck. You groan, shoving him away with a small smile and blown wide pupils and slapping a hand to your neck. “Frankie–”

He gives you a smirk, biting his lip at the look of deep red blooming through your fingers. “Spread your legs.” He says gruffly, pulling your thighs apart and sliding his eyes to yours again. 

You comply easily, one leg resting on the cushion on your couch and the other landing down on the rug. He watches how your hand slowly slides down from your neck, exposing the hickey he just gave you, and down your shirt that you still have on to reach for his cock that is now actively dripping onto your stomach. 

His breath stutters as your fingers wrap around him gently, giving him a few tugs before he starts to meet your hand eagerly. Half lidded, he reaches into his back pocket that is low on his thighs, still tangled around his legs, to his wallet where he is almost positive he is keeping a condom. “How old is that?” You breathe, giving a small smile at how he shakes trying to concentrate on the wrapper. 

He gives a small laugh. “It’s not old.” He swallows, feeling the pause before you continue moving your hand over him. “I–fuck, I put in there recently.”

You furrow your brow, tilting your head in question. “Why?”

Frankie feels a blush creep up his chest as he grabs your wrist. “Wanted to be prepared around you.” 

Your laughter isn’t something he expected-maybe a slap to his shoulder and a scoff, but you’re in a full fit of giggles. He joins you in laughing, watching as your eyes light up, trying to suppress your smile and failing miserably. 

“Why would you need to be prepared for me?” You giggle, trying to control yourself but a smile is still apparent on your face. Your hands come up to his stomach, skating your fingers down his belly button. 

It tickles slightly, making him tighten his abdomen a little as he rolls on the condom. He shakes his head at you, smiling again. “Well, look where we are right now?” He leans down to press his lips to your jaw, your chest rising and falling with laughter.

It’s silent again as he notches the head of his cock at your entrance, the pause in breathing you both take as he slides in slowly. He sighs, humid against your cheek as he pushes until he is seated flush against you. It’s overwhelming, the feeling of you wrapped around him, and he glances down your body to see how you’ve stuck to him. Your chest, rising and falling and brushing against the hair smatter across his, his stomach, softer than he wished rubbing against yours. He tensed his stomach enough to see between you, his hips pressed to yours, dark hair leading to his center shining with precome and your arousal. 

He pulls back just as slow, watching his own retreat before pressing back in and looking up to your face. This is exactly how he wanted to be distracted. 

You pull him back forward, shoving your fingers in his hair and tugging. He grunts at the feeling, beginning a rhythm that has you whining for him. “More, Frankie-fuck, you feel so good.” You throw your head back against the arm rest, a dull thud that would typically go unnoticed catching Frankie’s attention when you wince. 

He stops, pulling away from you even though you paw at him to come back, flipping you over with your top half hanging over the armrest. His hands sink into your hips, propping your ass up for him as he groans again. “So fucking perfect like this.”

He slides into you again, adjusting his hands for one to hold your hip from pressing into the couch, the other landing on your ass cheek and holding you steady. You sigh happily, flicking your gaze over your shoulder at him briefly before closing your eyes. 

Frankie’s pace speeds up, driving into you with an inability to think about anything other than you that he’s sure he is going to finish too soon. Somehow you know, a hand blindly reaching behind you to rest on his chest, enticing him to lean forward. When he does, you’re quick to wrap your hand behind his neck, “I w-want you to-holy shit-t-to make a mess. Frankie, on me.” You whisper hoarsely, opening your eyes enough for him to catch the glint of satisfaction. 

He moans, shaking his head and breathlessly laughing. “You’re–fuck–you’re something else, baby.” He pulls you off him, suddenly frantic and ears ringing. He flips you back over, your legs falling slightly off the couch as he tugs the condom off to feel his hand. 

You’re quick to replace it with your own. 

You’re smirking at him, hair a mess and cheeks flushed. He can’t help it when he starts to come, white ropes painting your stomach and almost catching your shirt. He reaches to the back cushions of your couch, holding on for dear life as you continue to move your hand over him, eventually reaching for your wrist to stop you with how dizzy he feels. He feels delirious, watching you slide a finger through his come and bring it up to your mouth, peeking your tongue out with big round eyes up at him. 

You hum around your finger, popping it out of your mouth and sighing. “Come shower with me?” You ask quietly, tilting your head toward the hallway. 

He nods, standing up and holding his hand out to help you. Frankie trails behind, keeping his eyes on you and helping you into the shower, touching you gently as hot water cascades down his back, his fingers working you to another orgasm that has you floating and sleepy. He willingly slides into your sheets, wrapping you up in his arms and listening to your breathing slow until you’ve completely slumped against him. 

Frankie doesn’t think he will be able to fall asleep, but will happily lay in your bed with you wrapped around him, hoping that you can distract him again. 

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

The Holiday Special and Homecoming

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I’m bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 5.2k

a/n:

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate. Happy Holidays to all. Here's my little gift of a few short stories about the holidays in RLW. And yes... finally I have wrapped up the Homecoming story.

I listened to an awful lot of christmas songs while writing this, if anyone is interested I could attach a playlist (The Christmas Song by Nat "King" Cole is a must listen for this).

This is for you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine merry christmas beloved!

Thanksgiving 1977

By the time Andrea begins zipping up her sweater while walking home from school she realizes that perhaps her oh so thrilling friendship with Javier Peña was only a summer thing. On the last sticky day of august he ruffled her hair and joked about her sun freckles. Sitting at the lake’s dock, shoulder to shoulder a thirteen year old Andrea shares an orange with fifteen year old Javier. He tells her, her nose looked like a chocolate chip cookie, god forbid Javier even slightly throws a compliment her way. Andrea balls her hands in fists with a grin when she says thank you, her brother scoffing from the other edge of their lake dock, “He wasn’t complimenting you, you idiot.” He calls with a snort, Genie pinches his arm and he yelps. Javi looks over his tan shoulder at his best friend and laughs along. Her face falls when Javier doesn’t correct Frankie but instead pushes off away from her and runs to the other end and pushes her brother into the murky water with a voice crack laced scream. Andrea and Genie flinch from the splash. She flinches from the weather dropping below sixty, eyes narrow as she walk uphill after being dismissed for thanksgiving break. 

That was the last time she saw Javi. He stopped coming to the house to pick her and Frankie up. Two weeks into seventh grade she noticed how strange it was to not be with him. Everyone in the halls at school were strangers, shit, they hadn't even known she spent the summer crushing on Laredo’s cutest freshman. Andrea tries to practice self control by not bugging Frankie about where the hell his so-called best friend was. That was until of course October when Frankie snatched a piece of gum from Andrea’s bookbag. 

“Where are you going?” She asks, her head lifting from her damn geometry work. Frankie pops the gum in his mouth and shrugs. 

“Homecoming game with Javi.” He says it like its nothing. Her eyes go all needy and in the most little sister voice she begs to come with. Frankie screws up his face, “No. Absolutely not.” 

Andrea slams her pencil down feeling betrayed by her brother who just two months ago let her tag along, every time! 

“Have you been hanging out, like just you guys?” She asks, sounding more whiny than she wanted. 

“Yeah, we hang out every day.” He bends down and tightens the laces to his chucks, his Laredo high school pull string hoodie flopping over his head in the same movement. She remembers her heart sinking at that moment, How dare they leave her out! She stands from the chair, it screeches loud.

“What!”

Frankie laughs and heads out the door with a slam. 

So Andrea learns that, yeah, it's a summer thing.

She rewires her brain to believe it stays that way just because she was the only one still in middle school. But she still finds it beyond strange that she doesn't bump into him, not even once–not until thanksgiving. The Diaz household only celebrated christian holidays and occasionally birthdays, so thanksgiving was just another day. Andrea rolls over in bed after a good late afternoon nap, her eyes falling to her year wide calendar. 49 days until she’s fourteen. She prays she grows some boobs, blurry eyes staring down at the mosquito bites under the t-shirt. 

A knock at her room door has her sat up straight, patting down the wrinkles in her shirt. “Yes!” She calls, eyes wide and cheeks flush.

“It’s Javi.” 

Andrea nearly shrieks at the sound of his voice from behind the door and from the position she had just been in. Up on her feet she hurries to the mirror, “Give me a moment I’m-um-I’m naked.” She blurts, her cheeks heating at her brain's stupid stupid stupid self. Patting her hair in place and slipping on socks, her freckles are long gone. No longer is there a trace of summer on her, what if she was just prettier under the sun. 

 He chuckles behind the door, “Uh-um okay.”

“Come in.” She shouts instead of opening the door for him. She wonders if maybe she looks more grown, her eyes dance to the mirror and polka dot fluffy shorts that stopped mid thigh, nope definitely not. He opens the door and the sight is absolutely delightful. Javier clad in a flannel and jeans, his brows furrowing at her. Lips quirking into a smile and at that moment Andrea realizes this is Javier’s first time in her room. Her cheeks set a blaze, his eyes scan the place, he smiles lazily at a picture of the summer crew taped onto her vanity mirror. “Sorry, I was just changing after a nap.” Half true. Her eyes bounce anywhere but his own, god Andrea could be so obvious sometimes. Have I no shame? 

He frowns, lifting a tin foil plate up, suddenly the smell of Peña fresh pork and rice, and tamales. Andrea’s stomach grumbles cartoonishly and Javier splits into a chuckle. Andrea is utterly gobsmacked at how badly she likes the boy.  Is this what love feels like? Like the sound of their makes her ache, was she too young to feel that hard? She giggles anyway, “Sorry I’m so hungry, let's go to the kitchen.” She tilts her head toward the door and he nods, leading himself out. Shamelessly staring at the nape of his neck as she trails him down the stairs. She has a dangerous thought of her lips pressing right there, that thought freaks her out and she feels her stomach flip. 

“Why are you alone?” Javier asks as he sets down the plate on the kitchen island. Andrea slept off the annoyance she developed from her mother and brothers yearly antics. Each thanksgiving, the two of them, just the two of them, go out to eat. They call it their mother son day of the year, when Andrea was young she was left with her nanny who took it upon herself to take little Andrea to a movie each thanksgiving. But Andrea was no longer little and the tradition continued, so the past 3 thanksgivings had been spent alone. It was routine to her, she wasn't sure if she was ready to understand her mothers ways just yet.

This Thanksgiving fell on Andrea’s fathers birthday, it's all she knew about him. His birthday and name. Lucas, November 24th. One complicated parent a time, she didn’t dwell this thanksgiving but she’d be a liar if she said she hadn't felt like she was on the verge of tears the entire day. 

Andrea peels open the wet aluminum, oh lordy I am thankful, thank you Chucho… for this food, Andrea looks up at Javier who had been staring at her with such contentment, and thank you for making the adonis that watches me now. Grabbing a fork Andrea answers, “My mom does something with Frankie every thanksgiving so I’m left here! God this looks amazing.” She drags her fork at the slab of pork, and it pulls so beautifully she could cry. Javier pulls the plate away from her. “Hey!”

“Is this every thanksgiving?” He asks, shielding the plate with his arm to get her to answer. 

She didn't care, “Yes, now move.” Andrea pinches his wrist and he slowly pulls his hand back to his side. Shoveling the pernil in her mouth with an excited mumble. Javi stays silent for her first few bites, just watching Andrea stuff herself. She was so hungry she couldn't bother looking at him. But then he sits next to her and gets a fork for himself and begins eating off the plate with her. 

Cheeks bulging with arroz con gandules, her eyes brighten and she smiles. “Happy Thanksgiving.” She says with a full mouth, to anyone it would be a gross act but Javier had thought it was the most endearing sight ever.

“Happy thanksgiving Andrea.” 

They eat together in silence.

Javier leaves with his heart beating fast in his chest, his stomach turning in the worst way. He looks at his father in the driver's seat, Chucho rolls down the window. “What took you so long!?”

Javier shook his head, not wanting to risk shouting what he discovered at the lawn of Andrea’s home. He shoots his head over his shoulder to take one more look at the house that contained just Andrea inside. 

Running a hand through his hair, Javier opens his fathers truck door and settles in. That feeling, that hole in his chest still in full effect.  “Andrea spends every thanksgiving alone.” He says it, his chest rises and falls. Andrea spends every thanksgiving alone.

Thanksgiving 1979

Andrea spends it alone again. Javier sat with his uncle, and dad in Houston, feeling awful homesick. Javier filled out the scholarship to the High School of Law and Justice in March and got free tuition for the upcoming year in late August, he had no time to really tell Andrea. Chucho traveled north for the holidays. Cooking for his helpless little brother who had Javier living off cafeteria lunch and ramen. The house smelled delightful and it truly felt like the holidays, even if he wasn't really home. During grace, with his hand resting on his fathers shoulder, in a warm room filled with home cooked food and love, he realizes she’s likely napping again. Probably sleeping to fizzle out hunger and loneliness.

Javi struggles to enjoy his food.

Homecoming 1979

Homecoming sure felt like a holiday in Laredo, at least within the halls of the school. The week had been full of underage drinking each night, pranks, and defacing the rival schools flag. Andrea couldn’t be bothered with the festivities, she just cared that senior Brian Flores who asked her to the dance. Now she could use this as an excuse to be pretty and maybe, maybe get her first kiss. She attended the game, and met Lorraine face to face for the very first time. Andrea attempted to bite back the jealousy buttering her tongue, and she surely took it out on Javier when he asked to talk after the game. Asking her all these questions that made her feel, for just a second, that he wants to be near her as much as she wants to be near him. 

Then he called her kid, and Andrea felt winded at the blow. 

“Next time I’ll think twice before I invite my best friend's kid sister to hang out. I apologize for trying to be polite and include you, god knows you used to whine about being left out.” 

Javi had distracted her from the handsome boy clad in shoulder pads who asked if she was okay, she couldn't even bask in the feeling because immediately Javier switched to protector mode. With a furrowed brow his eyes darted from Andrea to the grown man attempting to court her, and oh it settled something deep in his stomach he was unprepared to talk about. 

“What the fuck was that?”

“What do you mean?”

After a mini tangent and a few curses about him being far too old for her, Javi in a fit of protectiveness asked Andrea just to go with him. His brain completely abandons the thought of his unofficial girlfriend Lorraine. When he watches Andrea’s eyes twinkle for one second, he is reminded of the girl he had spent the last few weeks witj and the feelings he truly felt for the Lor. He wanted to be Lorraine’s boyfriend, he was tired of sneaking around–homecoming would have been his perfect opportunity to just go steady with the girl he had a crush on. 

 “Please stop acting like you care, I don't feel left out anymore. I have my own friends and life now. You guys only had me around because my mom made you, cus’ i couldn't make friends but obviously-Obviously I’m doing better now, so just please leave me alone” With that all thoughts of anyone but Andrea clears, only panic fills his chest when he watches someone who had never been upset with him, someone who had always been eager to spend time with, reminds him that things have changed and she becomes someone who wants to be left alone. 

Andrea heads home and sleeps well, she glances over at the dress she picked out and strangely the twisting jealousy and betrayal she felt from Javier fizzled at the thought of being appreciated by someone who actually likes her. Not so bad for a freshman, she thinks. She dozes off and dreams of Javier. She dreams she accepts his invite–even if it was offered in a white hot moment. In her brain she wears something entirely different and dances with him in their school gym. It’s decorated much more beautifully than she anticipated, but her brain paints it perfect just for them. Javier doesn’t make a move on her the entire night of the dance, it wasn’t his style. When the two decide it’s time to go, he kisses her gently and slowly against the brick walls of the gymnasium. Heart in her throat, she grips to the lapels of his blazer, pointing her foot in a beautiful disney first kiss. What a lovely dream it was, maybe that’s why she feels well rested the next day. 

She gets ready with an empty house, Frankie spent the night at Genie’s, again, a photo of Sharon Tate taped to her mirror. Eyes squinted as she messes up with powdered eyeliner for the… eighth time. The guitar riff in Marmalade’s I See the Rain bouncing off the walls of her bedroom. She pats down the wrinkles on the pale yellow dress. Her chest still not quite filling the thing but the built in lace shawl like jacket covers her modestly. Melissa had found too many of the short dresses too grown for a freshman. Andrea’s eyes flick up to her own, then down to her lips. She liked those, pinching her lips together her eyes narrow attempting to give her reflection a sexy pre kiss smolder. Her nose turns up in a cringe. Stomach flipping, will Brian kiss with tongue? He’s seventeen, god, he will for sure. Her eyes survey the room, she is alone… her mom got out of work at 9 pm. Frankie had no intention of coming home until tomorrow.

Screw it.

Andrea bunches her hand, her thumb lapping her pointer. She brings her hand to her lips and attempts to emulate what she thinks a kiss should look like. Her eyes close for just a moment when she feels a rhythm that feels right, hmm this doesn't seem too bad. Hopefully his breath doesn't smell like punch–

“Andrea-what the fu-”

She squeals at the top of her lungs when her eyes fall on a hurried suit clad Javier. Her wet hand is covered in Avon’s ripe cherry lipstick. “Ah! Oh my god.” It's her worst nightmare, her none kissed hand wiping the other while Javier stares with confusion and a hint of amusement. “What-how-why–how did you get in here?!” She yells, jumping to her feet. Javier tugs at his bow tie and stares at her hand for a moment, eliciting an ahem from her throat. His cheeks hint a blush. 

“Door was unlocked.” He stated flatly. Andrea blinks a few times, her lashes still wet with mascara, was he really here or had she kept dreaming.

He was just as nervous, as he got ready in the morning he wavered his options. He goes to homecoming and tells her while she’s there with her prick of a date, he tells her everything. He shook his head at that, he knew that could be a mess, it could create a scene. Javier crossed that off the list, he thought of just calling, he let that idea go too. As he crouched down to tighten his dress shoes his eyes caught a glimpse of the dusty space below his dresser, a white border poking out into view.

Javier leaned forward and pulled the thing out from under his dresser. There Andrea is, her hair long and braided, her classic teal bike to her left. To her right is Javi with his arm slung over her shoulders. With a sting in his eye and heart beating in his throat, Javier ran all the way to her, to Andrea. 

So without warning to Lorraine, Javier lays it all out. 

“You can't go to homecoming.” 

Andrea rolls her eyes, “Javi I’m tired of this weird protector complex you’ve developed, but I’m fifteen now I-”

“I won't let you go because that douchebag is being paid to take you, being paid double if he kisses you and triple if he fucks you.” He says it so rushed, just to get her to zip it. He saves Andrea in a sense, she was ready to spill some cliche lines that will have her cringing in t-minus six hours. The urgency was useful only in that facet, because then it hist Andrea all at once. Her eyes fall to the floor, heart dancing in her chest. How could I have been so blind. She knew of the senior bucket list, she knew, yet–

“Oh.” Her eyes screw shut for a moment, really hoping this was a dream. My god was she humiliated. She bought a dress, taped magazine clippings, painted her nails, kissed her hand and pushed Javier away for nothing. For someone to plan to use her for a checkmark on a list, she felt like a total idiot. Javi must think I look so stupid, Andrea thinks. Here in the middle of her room practicing kissing in an over priced dress. And despite her efforts to prove to Javi that she is in fact mature and strong and no longer in need of acceptance, her chin begins to quiver in the same way it did when she was just a kid. Her eyes blurry, she doesn’t even realize Javier is walking over to her with a soft pleading voice. Makeup ruined already, his hand grips her shoulder and instinctively she reaches out to grip his wrist. He’s frantically trying to get her stop crying but she just felt so embarrassed, crying is the only thing distracting from that pain in her chest. He’s whispering promises, 

Andrea please stop crying

I’ll stay here or-or we can go together 

We can stay in—watch something

We can egg his car—please stop crying. 

Shaking her head, her fingers dig into his wrist and he takes it as a sign to gather her up. Pulling Andrea into his chest, she knows her mascara tears must be staining his tux yet he couldn’t seem to care. The ache in his own chest settling the second he flattens a hand on the back of her head. Cheek resting on the top of her head. Andrea leans her entire body weight into the embrace, absolutely exhausted of being the joke, of being a pawn. Tired of being behind and naive. Javier tucks her head below his chin, resting on the top of her head. And oh boy is he in trouble because he hadn't thought of Lorraine, not even once. 

Despite the circles she’s talked herself into about her need to be self reliant—god did it feel good to just be hugged. 

With a squeeze to Andrea’s hip she pulls back, her eyes in all their raccoon glory, somehow she was still so beautiful. "Let’s go downstairs and watch something. Then we can flip through the yellow pages and sign the bastard up for the most incessant and embarrassing subscription with his home phone. How does Cat Scratch sex line sound?” Javier suggests. Just there, she feels it again, Am I too young to feel this much?

Through tears and smudged makeup, her lips quirk at its corners. 

“Okay.”

Christmas 1979

Christmas at the Diaz house wasn’t actually so bad. On the eve of christmas Melissa sets out all of the presents she’s bought her kids, then in the corner of her room lays a second pile of gifts for the people of Laredo that she’s made her family. Then she dresses her children, yes, even at their old age, in outfits she bought. The three take a drive to their church’s party and it goes the same way each year. The Smithfield’s lead a prayer, they play their mix of american christmas classics and spanish ones, then they regret serving alcohol at their christmas party. 

Two days before the party half of their christmas lights fall and in a fit of anger Melissa calls over Chucho to bring his latter and fix the damn thing. It must be genetic because when the Diaz women call, the Peña men come running. To Andrea’s surprise Javier shows up with his father. The group of friends watch the disaster that is Melissa Diaz with Holiday anxiety. 

Melissa stands at the foot of a ladder while Chucho puts up her lights. “A la derecha!” She yells from below, Frankie, Javier and Andrea sit on the lawn watching in amusement. It was chillier, a low fifty, it became Andreas' excuse to wear her lacrosse sweatshirt. Her brother and Javier joke about something that happened in school, something she didn’t witness. So she picks at the grass surrounding her and looks off at the two geezers arguing with each other in Spanish. Nat King Cole and Celia Cruz blasting from inside their house, windows open and in the December sunset their christmas tree twinkles beyond the window. 

Andrea decides maybe she likes Christmas with her family, with this family. 

She decides to take that statement back when her mother forces her to run the boutique from opening till closing on Christmas eve. Andrea stands behind the cash register wearing a headband with twirly attachments that jingled with each slight movement. If she hears happy holidays one more time she’ll kill Santa Claus herself. So it’s safe to say that when she locks up shop with a daily sale of five thousand dollars, she couldn’t be bothered with seeing half of Laredo in the church basement. 

Somehow Andrea finds herself in a stockings and a puffy green dress. She is half asleep by the time she spots the black leather couch at the farthest corner of the large basement. The basement of Los Tres Reyes church was the home of many parties. Many that could be considered non-fitting for a church but to most it was simply just a venue. Considering Lorraine’s father was the english mass pastor and his daughter was the most admired girl at the school, Mr. Smithfield held the Laredo Christmas party-invite only. Contrary to most parties at Los Tres Reyes, the Smithfield Christmas extravaganza (nice dresses and day drinking) was exclusive in Laredo terms. 

Lorraine was suited in the prettiest outfit in the room. Too fashionable for this town, plaid flared pants and a cashmere turtleneck. Andrea wants to groan at the silly dress her mom forced her into… and she was so tired. The party began to fill with the most prestigious faces of town, mostly store owners and Lorraine’s friends. Flashes fake smiles at each wave and struggling to stay awake the second she sits down. The familiar crunch of the couch with the sound of the tool of her skirt created a new strange ear splitting sound that has Andrea cringing. Legs crossed she wondered how many feet of tinsel they used for the ceiling. 

Fleshy nylon rubbing together with each leg-crossed readjustment. God she wished she had a magazine or something to not look so socially awkward in a setting like this. Deep inside Andrea was praying for Monica or Liandra to show up and save the day. She knew Javier was on his way, she knew she couldn’t bear the sight of the couple, especially how romantic it is to spend Christmas with your girlfriend’s family. Frankie was talking off Genie’s dad’s ear while nursing a beer. 

With the Ronetts playing on speaker and the bustling chatter, Andrea finds it awfully easy to drift off. Head falling back against the rest of the sofa. 

“My god she’s really sleeping.” Melissa whispers to Chucho about nearly four hours into the party. Eleven pm, nearly Christmas day. “Señor dame fuerza…” Her head falls into her hands while Chucho watches Andreas' fully laid out body in amusement. Her flats fully kicked off and her cheek squished to the leather. 

The Peñas arrive quite late to the party. Lorraine dragged Javier to the church bathroom to scold him for embarrassing her. He kissed her hoping it’ll soften her up but she slapped his arm instead. “Don’t be mad please.” He pleads as she opens the restroom door. Lorraine looks over her shoulder with a frown. 

With a snapping attitude and sarcasm, “Nice sweater.” 

Javier looks down at the thing, his face softening at the sight of his own sweater that his uncle knitted himself. It’s a thick gray cable knit sweater. For a moment Javier wonders why he lets these things slide from Lorraine, just a few weeks before he nearly broke it off after her intrusive suggestion on how to get over his mothers absence. 

Javi decides he’ll just drink tonight. 

With his hands shoved in his nice jeans, the pants Chucho bought two years ago for him to be forced into every holiday. His keys in his back pocket jangling as he walks down the stairs to a slowly dying party as the night closes. The lights around twinkling and the smell of clove and cinnamon filling his nose. He passes two girls in Lorraine’s friend group, Hilda and Diana. “Do you think she’s drunk?”

“I don’t know, but it’s tragic.” Hilda giggles, sipping her beer. Both their eyes planted on Andrea, in all her Christmas tree glory. Surrounded by her large green dress, socked feet curled and the most peaceful face he’s ever seen. His brows knit together, it was unlike her to fall asleep in a place like this. He shoots a glare over at the two girls and walks straight past them, straight to her. He grabs a cracker crown from one of the tables. Ignoring Lorraine’s call as he makes his way next to Andrea.

For a moment he feels watched, a bit insecure as he surveys the room as people pretend to not stare at the two. He frowns before wrapping his hand around her ankle and shaking her awake. She stirs slightly but just furthers herself into comfortability. He drops his head in an endearing smile. “Andrea.” He calls to her and she jolts at the sound of his voice.

Her smooth nylon clad feet brushing over his lap, causing a flip in his stomach. Something stranger happens in his christmas jeans.  “Oh!” She chirped, wiping her mouth clean of drool. “Javi!” 

“Andrea.” He laughs moving her small feet from his lap. Leaning forward and placing the gold crown on her disheveled hair. She giggles slightly, and blinks her eyes into full awareness. 

“Did I really fall asleep? What time is it?” She flattens her shimmery skirt. He just knows Melissa picked out the dress. He remembers the second summer they spent together, when her style changed completely. He knew she got her mother to back off on the kids catalogs, it seemed she still held higher ground when it came to christmas attire. Despite the forest pooling her body, to him she might have been the prettiest girl in the room, he should ask Santa Claus for a smack upside his head because the selfish thought came quickly and stuck like glue. Her shimmering eyes glance at the clock, fifteen to twelve. “Jesus!” She slaps her hand over her mouth at the decision to call the man out on his name, on his birthday and in a church. “I slept for so long.”

Javier chuckles a hearty laugh, “Yeah, decided to save you some embarrassment, you got quite comfortable.” His eyes fall to her feet. She burns mistletoe bow red and shoves them back into her flats. Still sitting up straight tenser than ever, and it aches his chest. He had her over just a week before, they joked around together in his house over dinner–he invited her to New Years at the bar. Two months before that the two sat awfully close on her couch watching Star Wars: A New Hope and signing up her one time homecoming date to awfully embarrassing subscriptions, using different personas and voices on the phone. Yet here, under everyone's surveillance she sat uptight and all frowning like she was afraid of being under the gaze of others. That drove him a bit crazy, she was his best friend too, hadn't she known?

Silence falls between them for a moment as he nurses his beer and she looks off, her mind running wild.

“You treat me differently when it’s not summer.” He blurts, bringing his drink to his lips. He knows why, he knows deep inside. Their summers together were organic, devoid of outside influences. She could just exist as Andrea, his Andrea. In summer she could just fall asleep on a couch and not have to worry about judging eyes. She could crush on Javier without guilt and restraint. He could call her pretty and not feel like the entire world is watching, prepared to scrutinize him. It was warm, it was easy to be close to one another, easy to ignore what others felt about them. Summers were just for them. It stirred something devastating in the cavity of his chest at the sight of her in a sweaty dress, with her hair done up and perfect posture. It wasn't her, it wasn't like her to be so afraid of him. 

Her lips quirk in a polite fake smile, as her eyes survey the room. She’s extremely aware of the eyes on the two of them. Javier’s jaw clenched at the sight of Andrea of all people being fake to him. She clears her throat like he asked her a scandalous question. Then she turns to him all at once and he swears under her makeup he sees a hint of the freckles that deepen under the Texas sun, and her features fall all sincere, like he’s the only person in the room. 

And she whispers, “Well maybe I don’t know how to be your friend in the winter.” Her eyes drop and her forehead forms that tiny crease of worry between painted brows. Javier’s stomach pits and maybe the holidays made him feel sentimental, maybe he’s afraid that being in the same school will somehow create a wedge in something he cherishes so deeply, maybe he feels like strangely time is running out. Perhaps he regrets meeting Lorraine at this time. It’s something about being surrounded by love, warmth and home cooked meals. Something about the sounds of chimes, organs and jingle bells in the music filling the air. Something about spending Christmas eve next to Andrea Diaz, something about not being able to kiss her under the mistletoe. Maybe because it actually snowed in Texas this Christmas, small flurries that didn’t stick–but snow nonetheless. He’s never had the urge to before but her, in front of him, at this time, with those eyes–he wonders what he’s doing wrong. 

With his heart in his throat he can only muster out one thing. 

“Merry Christmas.”

Christmas 1980-85

Houston isn't home. The holidays become a brain splitting headache he ignores for years to come. He's no longer seventeen. He had one holiday with her, and it wasn’t really with her, yet he can't imagine having one without her.

What a scary feeling.

[wordstome]

@kneelingshadowsalome thank you for indulging me on the hozier songs xoxo.

Melody-wise, if you liked Take Me To Church and Work Song, you'll like these songs, they're rock with gospel and folk influences. I'm going to list the songs who have lyrics that remind me of our favorite nasty Austrian man, but I really do recommend listening to all of Hozier's discography. Long post ahead!

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene - lol of course I start with this one. This one is mostly about an unhealthy dependency on a woman akin to a drug addiction, but these lines are so König. Also this song just rules.

Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh I lay my heart down with the rest at her feet Fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile It's bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet

It Will Come Back - feral man becomes obsessed the moment you show him scraps of affection

You know better babe, you know better babe Than to smile at me, smile at me like that Than to hold me just, hold me just like that Don't let me in with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

Cherry Wine - required listening for Hozier fans, such a beautiful song. Again, this one is also about an unhealthy relationship that I don't really associate with König, but these lines do remind me of Fatum Nos Iungebit

Her fight and fury is fiery, oh, but she loves Like sleep to the freezing Sweet and right and merciful, I'm all but washed In the tide of her breathing And it's worth it It's divine The way she shows me I'm hers and she's mine Open hand or closed fist would be fine The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine

Dinner & Diatribes - drawing comparisons between the act of eating and the act of loving, my beloved

Honey, this club here is stuck up Your friends are a fate that befell me I'd suffer Hell if you'd tell me What you'd do to me tonight

Sunlight -

A soul that's born in cold and rain Knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight And at last can grant a name To a buried and burning flame As love and its decisive pain Oh, your love is sunlight

De Selby (Part 2) - this song just goes hard asf

What you're given, what you live in Darling, it finds a way to live in you And your heart, love, has such darkness I feel it in the corners of the room

Francesca - this song is really beautiful and longing, it's based on a story about a forbidden love where the couple was put to death. Also, "put me back in it" is most certainly referring to pussy.

My life was a storm since I was born How could I fear any hurricane? If someone asked me at the end I'd tell them, 'Put me back in it' Da-darlin', I would do it again If I could hold you for a minute

Special shoutout to the line "Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I"

Who We Are - hehe the third chapter of Shrike is titled after this song. Bit of a spoiler, but without context, which is the best kind of spoiler >:)

I just held it tight So someone with your eyes Might come in time To hold me like water Or Christ, hold me like a knife

Butchered Tongue - also reminds me of Fatum Nos Iungebit

So far from home to have a stranger call you 'Darling' And have your guarded heart be lifted like a child up by the hand In some town that just means 'Home' to them With no translator left to sound A butchered tongue still singin' here above the ground

Unknown/Nth - this is a really bittersweet song reminiscing on a relationship that ended because he didn't truly know his partner. Again, I don't really associate the whole song with König, but these lines do remind me of Just Friends

Where a blinding light shone on you every night And either side of my sleep Where you were held frozen like an angel to me

Hozier also sings the last verse of this song so beautifully, it's like he captured the sensation of being at a concert and having the artist's voice so powerful in your ear. Required listening tbh

There are so, so many more songs I would recommend listening to, but these are the König highlights :3 Enjoy

[the-real-chuuya]

Yeah, yeah, listen

Billowed up in a winter storm

Go ahead and slam the door

Things won't change, maybe pop another Adderall

Stimulate the anger 'til you're filled with rage, yeah

And I said I wouldn't get involved

But fuck it, I'm a human being, I don't like the way I'm feeling

Cry until the tears dissolve, wait

Raise my bottle in the air, then I smash it off the wall, singin'

Ricochet, misfired, but the bullet hit me anyway

So much blood in the Bentayga, damn, the leather's stained

I need more than liquid codeine and promethazine, therapy

Yeah, I'll do anything to kill this pain

I'm so tired, and I've only got myself to blame

Might not make it to my 30s, dig an early grave

Until then, I'll keep on smiling

Tell the devil, "Go to hell", just for the irony, whoa

There's a part of me that can't let go (can't let go)

I see it in your eyes again

Take a .30 when I know you're feeling low

Now you're splitting drugs with all your friends

You wanna talk until the sunrise

Wasted, we don't always get it right

You just wanna argue 'bout my state of mind (yeah, that's what I said)

So sad, what a waste of time (time)

yeah

She said to me, "Your life's like a movie"

I've been awake, I've been feeling lucid

Dream in a dream, dreams, I always lose it

I'm on a roll, can't keep me focused

I've been up too long, I'm just so nauseous

These drugs I've been on, got me intoxicated

I'm intoxicated, I'm intoxicated

Ricochet, misfired, but the bullet hit me anyway

So much blood in the Bentayga, damn, the leather's stained

I need more than liquid codeine and promethazine, therapy

Shit, man, I'll take anything to kill this pain

I'm so tired, and I've only got myself to blame

Might not make it to my 30s, dig an early grave

Until then, I'll keep on smiling

Tell the devil, "Go to hell", I do it for the irony, yeah

Can't look behind me

That shit's in the past, can't look behind me now

Keep on riding

I'll make future for riding now

Pools of blood all in the Bentayga

She wanna fuck, I say, "Yes, baby"

I'm on a buzz, I'm like, "Yeah"

Sitting with my thoughts ain't the remedy

I'm still knee-deep in this fuckery (your life's like a movie)

(Like a movie-vie-vie-vie-vie, your life's like a movie, like a movie)

Still can't let go of the troubled scenes in my head (like a movie)

(Like a movie-vie-vie-vie-vie) bleed in my bed alone

(Your life's like a movie) yeah (your life's like a movie)

She said, "Your life's like a movie" (like a movie, your life's like a movie)

(Your life's like a movie) you know how I do it

RICOCHET- Chase Atlantic <3

I am not reading all that it took me five minutes just to scroll

[deerundevotee]

songs i think fit with certain gods (to be added on)

Apollon ☀️

We Didn't Start the Fire - Fall Out Boy

Achilles Come Down - Gang of Youths

Lost in the Rhythm - Jamie Berry

Francesca - Hozier

Wonder - Shawn Mendes

I Hear a Symphony - Cody Fry

creature - half alive

Rescue Me - OneRepublic

Way Less Sad - AJR

Dionysus 🍷

Eat Your Young - Hozier

I Won't - AJR

Unholy - Sam Smith

One Day - Lovejoy

The Other Side of Paradise - Glass Animals

Flowers - Miley Cyrus

Sex - EDEN

Middle Finger - Bohnes

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene - Hozier

Come Hang Out - AJR

Die Young - Kesha

Fuck You - Lilly Allen

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked - Cage the Elephant

Call Me What You Like - Lovejoy

Hades 💀

Daylight - David Kushner

Montero - Lil Nas X

drugs - EDEN

Way Down We Go - KALEO

Blood // Water - grandson

Middle Finger - Bohnes

The only thing they fear is you - Mick Gordon

Surface Pressure - Jessica Darrow

You're Gonna Go Far Kid - the Offspring

Locked Out of Heaven - Bruno Mars

Dirty - grandson

Hell's Comin' With Me - PoorMansPoison

Gold - ImagineDragons

[grison-in-space]

Maybe unsurprisingly this whole thing is Bayer's fault. One of their chemists was poking at a good easy to synthesize codeine and accidentally made heroin for pretty cheap, so they opted to develop the new exciting drug for the market. After all, shit, it was three times as strong as morphine! You only needed a little, so obviously it wasn't as big an addiction risk — both morphine and the opium that preceded it had addiction potential that was well known at this time — and it was such a miracle drug for pain.

And it worked really well as a cough suppressant, too, plus it felt nice—a lot of medicines at the time did, especially patent medicines, so this wasn't necessarily something folks saw as a red flag at the time. (We actually do not have any good cough suppressants that aren't addiction risks, by the way— everything we currently have and use which is non addictive enough to be OTC is essentially about as effective as placebo.) I mean, the same dude who synthesized cheap heroin for Bayer had invented aspirin less than two weeks prior. So that's the general zeitgeist: pain control through chemistry! What a novel and useful idea!

But at the time Bayer's chemistry department is digging into what we now know as heroin, it was just called "diacetylmorphine" or diamorphine for short. This was not a catchy name for the new sexy field of consumer pharmaceuticals to work with, so Bayer's marketing team starts working on how to sell and market this exciting new wonderdrug. They invent a name for it: heroin, because it's so strong--yeah, they pull from the word "hero." And they market the hell out of heroin as a non-addictive morphine replacement for cough suppression through 1910.

... Yeah. About that.

It starts becoming increasingly clear that the drug is more addictive than morphine, not less, and eventually Bayer stops hyping it up so much. In 1914 it starts being regulated more tightly in North America as people start noticing the addictive potential and side effects, and that starts a wave of regulations that culminates in a global ban from the League of Nations health committee in 1925. Before that, though, Bayer is perhaps unsurprisingly right in the middle of the fray on the German side of WW1, and the 1919 Treaty of Versailles actually forces Bayer to give up its trademark on the name "heroin". They're probably not too fussed by this because the writing is on the wall by this point, and also the same treaty has forced them to give up the trademark on aspirin (previously called "salicylic acid") which is a much harder blow.

no idea where i was going with this but i abandoned it at the most disconcerting moment possible

[gigglealongshiney-shadow-watcher]

I'll give that fucker worse than hell. Make him fear his reflection. He's not making it out this time. No-one to save him.

...so! Working with Tinky honestly sounds amazing. I've never been one for humanity, anyways. And, aw, thanks, toots! You sound like a holiday 'n a half!

"You are myyyy kinda guy! Lord, it's such a drag sometimes to be around some of my other friends. 'Noooo we can't try to drug Wiggly, you'll get torn in half with tentacles!' 'Marc you can't mix coke with codeine you'll die.' 'I don't want to take down the government with party balloons full of aerosized heroin.' I mean sure, that's probably a bad idea, but let me try! Maybe it wouldn't work but I don't know yettt. Tinky wouldn't let his faithful follower die doing something that would make him so proud."

"Hahahahahahhahahahahah!!!! This is going to be beautiful!"

[twistedfingersopengrav3s]

rough draft manifest-

off the drink,

off the drugs, no feelings

off the breath, no spirits,

all spirits,

more codeine,

more benzos,

Lonny knows a klon man,

xan man died two hours ago,

meth head now turned saint,

preaches Jesus and beats on his son,

son, the future

or school shooter,

or young white and turnt on the south side

daddy said he's not cooking the crack right

daddy two weeks clean,

still tweaked in his eyes,

still more strength that preacher man

who doesn't come to this side of town

toppled gospel through character

crazy enough to start an army

armed with all things

all spirits

more drank,

more cuts,

more blood,

more covenants,

now coded,

now coding the manifesto,

put it in the 808s

put it in the frequency,

the drums will tell them to fuck this shit up,

and I will rise in the hell fire and tell them I am but a pawn,

a vessel,

that I still love God,

that I get fucked by Satan too

that he fucks through me

that they both see through me,

so don't look long enough

but look long enough

but look,

to the skies,

the ethers are open,

the aliens are summoned and still

more drink

more drank,

armageddon off the drugs,

the war against apathy

no feelings,

numb,

nibble on flesh,

bitch I am Dahmer,

I've been plotting since the dorms,

park stradley,

South campus,

3am meetings with the witches,

3:33 curfew,

midnight mass,

midnight blues and worship

and she knows im godly because I cry when I eat her shit

and it is more than worship

and yes baby I will worship you too

if you die for me,

for us,

for the people...

but if I had to choose

I would choose hell,

and I would sing heavens song for a lover,

a father who fucks his creations like crazy,

sky daddy dick dipped in cocaine and again I say...

I'm off the drink

[mysteriouscircumstanceslut]

Fuckin HELL I have so much to do today to prepare for my surgery next week to hopefully treat my chronic pain BUT I woke up IN severe pain so I had to take drugs but BECAUSE of my surgery TO TREAT MY CHRONIC PAIN I cannot take IBUPROFEN so I had to take a BIG dose of codeine which means I am now TOO HIGH to do what needs DOING

[pooma-bible]

ABORTION

- killing innocent souls through drugs, contraceptive and etc-

Exodus 20:13. Thou shall not kill....

Family Planning also a form of abortion -

▪️Abortion definition

It is also the expulsion of the fetus from the womb during the first 28 wesks of pregnancy.

It can also be defined as killing and explusion of the fetus from the womb because it is not wanted.

As far as God is concerned, using contraceptive method to stop pregnancy is another method of Killing.

▪️TYPES OF ABORTION

1. Spontaneous Abortion

2. Induced Abortion

Spontaneous Abortion also known as Miscarriage

This type of abortion is not induced or caused by any external influence.

Miscarriage are classified into three types

1. Threatened Abortion

2. Inevitable Abortion

3. Missed Abortion

Indued Abortion - This abortion is Influenced externally to ensure expulsion of the fetus.

1. Therapeutic Abortion

2. Criminal Abortion.

Therapeutic Abortion is carried out by qualified medical practitioners as treatment in the interest of the of the mothers life. A medical doctor may recommend an abortion if the pregnant woman is suffering a life threatening condition.

Criminal Abortion - Just as the Name implies: is an illegal abortion. This is a type of abortion that is carried out because of ungodly reasons.

The Word of God says in *Exodus 20:13 - Thou shall not kill*

Criminal Abortion is killing. It is murdering of innocent souls

Rev.21.8 - But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and MURDERERS, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.

Criminal Abortion is influenced by the works of the flesh. Galatians 5:19-21. The spirit of the will never support such abortion. In many countries this abortion has been legalized. This cannot change the word of God and His standards against killing and shedding of innocent Blood.

▪️Resons for Criminal Abortion

1. Unwanted Pregnancy. Abortion because the pregnancy is not wanted. This is common among

a Couples who do not want more children or pregnancy that occure at a time they do not want it.

b Teenagers (Teenage Pregnancy)

c Pregnancy outside wedlock - This may be as a result of rape, adultery or fornication.

▪️Ways of expelling foetus through Criminal Abortion

1. D and C - This may be done by unqualified professionals or quacks,

2. Use of locally made Concoction :-

a Lime juice with potash

b Blue mixed with probably alum

3.Drugs :-

a B Codeine

b Menstrogen

c Pitocin either in injection or tablet form

NOTE - Many people have died while using these methods to commit criminal abortion, and are now in Hell.

▪️Prevention of Criminal Abortion

1. The word of God must be properly taught in the church so that every Christian will know, God is against any form of killing

2. Christian couples must be ready to obey God and avoid killing even if the pregnancy is not wanted

3. Teenagers must be taught what the result of premarital sex will be

4. Christian parents of teenagers must ensure their children are properly trained in the way of the Lord.

▪️Eternal Consequence of Abortion

The wages of Sin is Death - Romans 6:23a

Anyone who dies without sincere repentance of his/her sin will end up in hell.

⭐If you have committed abortion and you have not seen it as a sin you need to repent from, you have been informed now that God sees you as a murderer, therefore confess to God, ask for forgiveness and mercy, and cleansing by the Blood of Jesus. If you fail to acknowledge this sin, you are toying with hell fire.

⭐Any man that has encouraged any woman to abort or paid for abortion is equally guilty. You should also repent and ask for forgiveness.

⭐Health workers who are involved in criminal abortion are also guilty. Please repent ask for forgiveness and forsake this practice.

God in His Mercy has not left us in the dark concerning the consequences of killing in His word.

▪️Other methods of Killing as Revealed through Gods Prophet from the Bible.

1 - Contraception

Use of Contraceptive methods to prevent pregnancy is another method of killing. Example - Condoms, pills, intrauterine devices, etc (Roman's 1:30- 32- inventors of evil things - are all worthy of death).

2 - Withdrawal Method.

Men are not permitted to ejaculate outside their women. Gen 38:9-10. God slew Onam because he spilled it outside the ground

Anything that has assurance to possible fail is not God method.

▪️Gods Method of Family Planning.

Christian couples are to talk to God on when they want to have children. If you truly believe God made your bodies and He dictates what happen there, you will have faith in Him that it will be according to your request concerning family planning.

Couples must meet Gods conditions so that God will answer their prayers on spacing their children without Contraception

➖Christians couples must be faithful to God and to themselves.

➖Marital bed must not be defiled (Hebrews 13:5)

➖They must live in Holiness and Righteousness

➖They must have faith in God (Hebrews 11:6)

➖Couple must be in agreement with themselves on their request (Matthew 18:19)

If God says He will do it there should be no fear of unwanted pregnancy. Have faith in Him.

This is an opportunity for those who have not confessed the sin of abortion, use of contraceptive methods or withdrawal methods, to do so now, forsake these sins and which i was once there and God has forgiven me and discourage others from commiting them.

Hell is too Hot. Repent now and be save. God bless us all.

[floral-hex]

I can’t sleep. I feel myself getting close and I feel like I can’t breathe, I feel hot and my limbs start tingling. I’m going to die in my sleep. I’m so tired, I feel sick and can’t actually get comfortable. Twitchy and tired and miserable and I wish I could go to the ER and they could actually do something for me, but what could they do? I can’t just walk in and say “I’m losing my shit. Do you have any intravenous drugs that would make me feel normal?” This isn’t insomnia. Or is it? I don’t understand the specifics. I’m DESPERATE to sleep. My body wants it. But I start panicking and filling with anxiety whenever I get close. I’m trying to distract myself right now. With this. Typing. Okay, the hot gossip, I don’t know what to do. I’ve taken different meds. Tylenols and NSAIDS and Codeine and Zofran (bc hell I was nauseas when I STARTED trying to sleep 12 hours ago and this staying up just added to it). I’ve been getting high, too, to help with these sudden severe stabs of anxiety (I’M GONNA DIE I’M GONNA DIE I’M GONNA DIE). a lot. I’m realizing thc makes me feel sick. I mean, I knew, it’s weird with me. Relaxing but also a sort of soft pukey feeling, and it’s really REALLY not helping me not feel sick, but it at least makes these feelings bearable. I’m hungry but I’m so… aaargh… that I can’t rightly “cook” anything. I don’t even want to make an easy sandwich. Shit, Ian, please, just throw some lunch meat between some bread. But no. I DID manage to walk to the corner store earlier for a coke. I thought maybe a bottle of something super sugar and caffeine filled would, I don’t know, somehow be good for me or help me level off. A little bump from the sugar, some caffeine to help smooth over that sick, unnatural sleepy feeling certain meds give me. Anyway, I stand by that. A nice little walk and a soda. But I can’t even get myself to cook something. I don’t have a lot of easy microwave food. Bad planning. Where am I going with this? Just distracting myself. My mind is not being kind to me. Lately and especially today. My room feels like it has rotten vibes. That sounds silly, but I feel physically worse in here. “So get out?” Yeah… maybe… but I just want to be in bed. So I’ve got the curtain half open for sunlight and the tv constantly going with 30 Rock. I hate it. I need, like, incense or candles and fuck it put the sun in here, too. I feel so closed off. It feels like a tomb in here.i’ma gonna die. This happened to me about a week or so ago. Two weeks? I didn’t write it down so now I can’t compare. It was early on a weekend, sitting and panicking, exhausted, thinking about the ER. Just someone help. But there’s not much I can reasonably expect. So suffer it out? Oof sleepy eyes getting blurry. Ian, just sleep, c’mon. I feel sick. Did you know that? Did I write about that yet?

aaaaa aaaaa aaaaa aaaaa!

[arthur-morgans-blogg]

Six Nights

Six nights from a knife that could change or take his life

Six nights from the sleep that is like a death, but not that deep

A chance to rest, a chance to heal

A chance to maybe, finally feel that desperate long-gone sense of normalcy that he’s been craving so desperately

Long nights awake, each breath, each movement agony. 

Maybe then, he’ll know some peace--he’ll be content if the aches are contained to his bones, at least. 

Until then, another night, more drugs to numb it, less sleep had, an upset stomach. 

A warm embrace of someone near, telling him not to fear, ‘Worry not, you’re gonna be well, you’re not gonna be in this pain fueled hell.’

He’ll drift to sleep, it’s six nights more. 

He knows he need not worry, he’s done this all before.