#gotta stay sober i fear

[ultrataintedviolence]

deepthroating a bottle of cherry coke rn

[with-my-calamitous-love]

last 5 years running out my mouth

katsuki bakugou x reader

one night, amongst the crowds and the music, katsuki wonders why he’s looking for you- he knows you don’t go to parties, anymore. themes of (katsuki’s) depression and substance usage

i love you 5sos nation 🪐 inspired by you dont go to parties

5 am.

katsuki’s clinging to his couch. everyone on his contact list, and everyone on their contact lists and so forth, stood in his house. red, drunken eyes dart around, as if looking for someone. though he knows its futile. you’re not there. at least, not anymore.

he groans, sitting up. he needs to vomit. this isn’t a good look for a new, fresh-faced hero. he pushes through the crowds, starting to kick people out. he didn’t care where they went, just not here.

he knocked over a vase. he’s probably offended a bunch of people. he’s trying to make it to a place in the apartment that doesn’t reek of alcohol and dead dreams- an ambitious attempt, to put it nicely.

he groans, bumping into someone. he grows even more frustrated when he sees who it is.

“katsuki, you’ve gotta sit down, man.” kirishima says, directing his friend to the bedroom. kirishima is a party goer, but lately, he knows to stay sober enough to keep things in check. someone had to be bakugou’s jailor.

katsuki doesn’t protest, sitting down while the redhead ushers everyone out of the house. he sighs, returning to the bedroom, seeing bakugou sitting there, his head in his hands.

“fuck… i don’t know.” he pinches the bridge of his nose. he doesn’t curse out of anger or hatred; he curses out of sadness. katsuki sits there, like theres vultures spinning around him, waiting for their time to strike.

what a tragedy.

bakugou opens his mouth to say something, but the overwhelming urge to vomit takes over. kirishima walks over, pushing him onto the bed and making sure he lays on his side. he stares, heartbroken, wondering where it all went wrong.

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you prayed he’d just talk to you, about his fears and about his doubts. you wish he’d be honest about his panic attacks, especially after the war. he’d wake up in a cold sweat, remembering the fighting, remembering the tears. but some invisible barricade caged his feelings inside his heart. this had to be his battle.

he’s still there in the darkness, feeling like a heartless monster. he’s starting to come undone, the sadness in his bones seeping into the security and confidence once embedded in him. maybe he isn’t who he set out to be in the first place.

but he’s not gonna let you know that.

“told you i’m find, moron.” he says, spooning you. he hopes you don’t notice how glossy his red eyes are, but you do.

“katsuki, please-“

“i’m fine.”

you bite your lip. if you can’t get him to open up, maybe you can take his mind off of it. a party never hurt anybody, right?

“…denki’s throwing this get-together tomorrow night.” you say, proposing the idea to him. “its a reunion for our class. we should go. it’ll get your mind off of… whatever it is.”

he scoffs, musing that he’s too good for parties. “yeah, a bunch of lightweight assholes i have to drive home? no thanks.”

“oh c’mon, it’ll be fun.” you pout.

it’ll be fun, and because you’re desperate to see a smile on his face again, even if its from laughing at his friends drunken antics. anything that’ll have even a semblance of your katsuki back.

“i’ll think about it.” he can’t say no to that face.

and that was the first time you ever saw katsuki drink.

he can handle his alcohol well, actually. he keeps you close by him, starting with one shot, and then another, and then kissing your neck in front of all your friends while his bitter breath tickles your skin.

he was laughing, enjoying himself. he was surrounded by people who diminished his doubts. a night of partying and fun did him some good.

what you didn’t anticipate, however, was how often he was attending them now.

the fame followed him everywhere. katsuki would end up in different celebrities’s basements, with close friends or even strangers. at first, you went with him. but it were as if the alcohol formed oceans between you two, separating you from katsuki.

he’s spiralling and you can see it. he’d chase down all that pain with shots, and all that trauma with drunken dares and released inhibitions. at first, you went with him to have fun. then, you went with him to make sure he didn’t take his foot off the breaks. now, you couldn’t bring yourself to go at all.

“katsuki, you need to stop.” you say, following one of his nasty hangovers.

he groans, clutching his temples. “don’t… god, you’re making my head spin, [y/n].”

“i’m making your head spin?” you scoff. “no, thats because you were out till 3 last night.”

“it was denki’s birthday.” he tries to excuse himself.

“no, it was sero’s, and they told me you were shitfaced for most of it!” you raise your voice, tears brimming.

his eyes widen, seeing how upset you are. he knows its irresponsible, but he also knows being drunk was a way to feel something, anything other than sad. given the choice between drowning in whiskey and drowning in tears, he chose the one that was capable of poisoning him.

“please.” you plead. “stop with the parties, with the drinking. its hurting you!”

“i have it under control!”

“you don’t!”

he stands up, his hangover more evident than ever. “god fucking damnit, [y/n]. if all you’re gonna do is bitch and moan like a fucking extra, just go!”

exactly 2 seconds in, katsuki realized what he said. but he’s too late.

theres a palpable silence in the air, followed by the sniffling crinkle of your nose as the tears cascade down.

“[y/n], babe, baby, i’m sorry. fuck, i-“

you slap him, cutting him off. his head whips to the side, just taking it. he wants to argue back, but he knows he deserved that.

you pack up your things, and he doesn’t have it in him to try and stop you. he begs in his mind for you to stay. secretly, you’re begging that he’ll beg.

but he doesn’t. and you leave.

subsequently, katsuki’s partying habit goes from controlled to dangerous.

he’s never not drunk, never not out doing something with people he doesn’t know. he’s always staying just a bit too late, but always manages to kick himself out in time to get to work. he’s always irritable, in part to the hangovers but largely in part to your absence.

people are starting to catch on. maybe not the fans, who adore him and his looks no matter what, but his colleagues have noticed a shift. the no-bullshit, toughed out dynamight sunk somewhere beneath his rising blood-alcohol levels.

still, he looks for you. he wonders if you’re still on the couch, singing karaoke with your friends, belting and humming along to the tunes. he thinks you might be in the kitchen, making yourself a drink and calling an uber in advance. or maybe you’re in the washroom, overstimulated, your anxiety taking over. anxiety he knows all too well. the anxiety he tried to hide beneath parties.

some nights, he’ll drunkenly stumble into the washroom, whether its his own or someone else’s. he’ll wonder if you’re there, sitting on the sink, ready to leave with him to your shared home.

but its another lonely night.

you don’t go to parties anymore.

because you’ve stayed at home, crying over photos, wearing his hoodies. everything you’ve learned about katsuki during your split had been against your will. there was silence from him, but the whispers of news and gossip tabloids could scream. you’re mad, yes, but you also pray for his safety.

selfishly so, you hope he still looks for you at those parties. at least there, he cares a little. maybe even more than you realize.

right now, he’s sitting on the couch with kirishima, denki, and sero. though all of them have had a bit to drink, katsuki is undoubtedly the worst of them all. he’s bitching about you, about missing you, about how you left him.

“she just.. got up and fucking left.” he slurs, leaning his head back. the mood is killed, and no one really has the energy to argue. except maybe for denki, who points out the obvious.

“you told her to leave. and she had a good reason for bringing it up to you, dude.” denki says. “can’t blame her for walking out on you.”

silence. the calm before the storm.

exactly 5 seconds later, katsuki is positively losing his shit, yelling at denki who just sits there, dumbfounded. kirishima is holding his friend back while sero attempts to position himself between the two. its one thing to be yelled at. but being yelled at by katsuki bakugou? thats something else.

“i don’t know what to do, man.” sero says, looking at eijirou for answers. the redhead honestly isn’t sure either. one thought crosses his mind, but he’s worried.

“get him to sit down.” eijirou says. “i’m calling [y/n].”

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“hello?” you say into the receiver. theres a pit in your stomach hearing ejirou’s voice, knowing he wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t an emergency.

“hey [y/n], listen… katsuki’s drunk, and he’s yelling at denki… i’m so sorry, but… you think you can come get him?”

god, its exhausting being a good person sometimes.

“yeah, i’ll be right there.” you huff, grabbing your car keys. eijirou thanks you, knowing you might be the one thing that calms him down right now.

all 3 boys help get him into your car. your heart clenches, seeing just how badly he’s been doing. he’s sick, and he’s tired. his eyes are swollen from crying, you know it.

eijirou leaves you with a long hug, arms embracing you. “take care.” he says. “call me if he acts up. he might need someone to kick his ass.”

you chuckle, for what feels like the first time in forever. “yeah, he could.”

when you re-enter the car, you don’t start it right away. you look over at katsuki in the passenger seat. maybe he’s starting to sober up, or he’s drunk enough where he’s starting to be honest.

“i’m so fuckin’ sorry, babe.” he says. you just nod, eyes welling up with tears, words failing you.

he laughs bitterly, head leaning your way. “i’m a mess, [y/n]. like, a real mess. doctor told me i have depression. i didn’t tell you ‘cause i didn’t wanna look weak. pathetic, right? i feel pretty weak right now.”

you look over at him, already wanting to cry all over again. you should have seen the signs. right now, they are so glaringly obvious- the detachment, the avoidance, the drinking….

“and i miss you more than anything.” he says. “i wish i just… talked to you more. even if its your shitty knock-knock jokes.”

you’re crying, but you do scoff a little, holding his hand. “my knock-knock jokes are not stupid.”

“knock knock.” he says.

“who’s there?”

“i still love you. and thats the worst part about all these damn parties… you weren’t there. i don’t care about parties if you’re not there.”

that might have been the most sober thing he’s said all night.

you don’t say anything, not ready to forgive. but you do place a kiss to his cheek before driving him home.

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a few days later, katsuki shows up to your house at 9 o’clock sharp- a new record considering the recent events. he called in advance, but your heart still skips a little when you open the door and motion for him to enter.

the bags under his eyes have reduced. he’s nor slurring his words, and he’s not snapping at all. he seems… better.

“i uh… brought you coffee.” he says, awkwardly handing you the cup. “i got you some sugar and creamer, cause i didn’t know how you like it.” he shoves his hands into his pocket and takes out the packets.

“katsuki, i have that all here.” you almost laugh at his nervousness. its clear that this has taken a hold on him. as he sobers, he feels the need to rebuild himself again.

“right, sorry, smartass.” he says, he sounds like an asshole, but its a nickname you’ve both grown used to.

physically, he seems like he’s finally gotten some rest. on the inside, however, you can see the turmoil in his eyes. he had spent weeks drunk on distractions. now, he’s facing all the things he’s fucked up.

you think back to what he said in the car. about his diagnosis, about his struggles. you wonder just how long he’s been feeling that tv static in his head, how long he’s been bullying himself. you wonder how strong his demons are, how they’ve got hands and how he was struggling to fight them.

it breaks your heart.

“i… i know what i told you the other night.” he huffs, hands in his pockets. “i remember that much.”

“…why didn’t you say anything?” you dare to utter, wanting to see his pain and wanting to shield him from it.

he pauses, finding the right words. “…i don’t know. i’m a hero, i’m the god damn best. i didn’t wanna look weak.”

“depression isn’t a weakness, kats.” you remind him, that familiar nickname rolling off of your tongue in a way that makes his heart ache. “especially after everything you’ve been through.”

he knows what you mean. the relentless training, the fights, all the times he thought he was going to die. honestly, he didn’t think he’d make it this far. everyday could have been his last.

“it just… hurts.” he admits, wincing at the vulnerability in his tone. “so damn much… like… i don’t know. like i’m trapped.”

his voice cracks at that last part.

“i don’t know what to do. how to deal with this. i just know i’m sick of parties. i’m sick of being away from you. i-“

you cut him off with a hug there, enough to get his eyes misty. he hugs you back instantly, fitting in with you like a puzzle piece. burying his face in your neck, he inhales and lets himself get lost in you.

“you don’t have to know what to do.” you say, stroking his back. “as long as you’re done hurting yourself. i’m here, you asshole.”

you shed a few tears as well as katsuki sobs that he’s sorry. but as you hold him, he admits to himself that vulnerability didn’t kill him- it just brought him closer to you. after days of searching for you at parties, during lonely nights, you’ve got him again.

and he’s never letting you go.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Tequila

Summary: Tequila has a lot to answer for when Y/N wakes up naked in Dean’s bed, but once the shock wears off, she realises that maybe it’s not such a bad thing.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of smut, angst, fluff, feelings, friends to lovers

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Another December Drabble for you all to enjoy!

My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

The sun streams through the motel’s threadbare curtains, rudely awakening you from a deep, drunken sleep. Your head is pounding, and there’s a ringing in your ears that comes with the vague memory of the loud music playing at the bar last night.

It’d been a hard hunt to stomach: Lamia, a child-eating demon, had decided to take up residence in Grangeville, Idaho, and once you’d blasted her ass back to hell, you and Dean really, really needed to let off a lot of steam.

Luckily, there was a dive bar next door to the motel, so neither of you had to stay sober enough to drive home, and you’d both been well and truly shit-faced. You’d hustled a small fortune playing pool; he’d sung karaoke, and there were tequila shots… lots and lots of tequila shots.

A snore from behind you made you freeze. It sounded like Dean, but that couldn’t be right. Why would you and Dean be in the same bed? Whoever it was rolled over and slid their arm over your waist, pulling you into their body. You could feel something hard poke the back of your thigh… at least he’s packing, you thought before the mystery man spoke.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Suddenly, the whole night’s events come flooding back to you at once.

One tequila shot turned into two. Two turned to four. Four turned to six, and before you knew it, you were stumbling through the door to Dean’s room, lips attached to his, nails raking through his hair and over his scalp and neck, tongues dancing a passionate tango while your clothes flew in every direction.

Dean made love to you so deliciously good. He was sweet and gentle at times. Rough and hard when you needed it. In all the years you’d known him, this was the first time you’d ended up in his bed, yet he knew your body better than you did. 

The green-eyed hunter had known how to pleasure you better than anyone had before him. Touching places no one had ever touched before. Taking you higher than you’d ever been, making you scream his name so loud the occupant next door had banged the wall.

It’s overwhelming, and you can feel last night’s alcohol swirl dangerously in your stomach, threatening to make an appearance. You lifted the covers and glanced down. Yep, definitely naked.

Pulling the sheet tighter to your body, you cautiously turn around, your worst fear confirmed as Dean’s twinkling green orbs and cocky smirk greet you.

“Well, this changes things!” he grins, and you can’t decide if you want to punch his painfully beautiful face or kiss him.

“Oh, God!” you gasp, covering your face with your hands. “This can’t be happening.”

“Y/N?” Dean asks, concern evident in his voice. “You okay?”

“I can’t believe I did you—I mean that. I can’t believe I did that,” you mumble.

“Come on, don’t be like that! We had a great time. I got you off six times, sweetheart! That’s a personal record for me!”

Dean’s words are meant to be comforting, but they do the opposite and only embarrass you more. The urge to kiss him is gone, leaving you wanting to punch his painfully beautiful, smug face.

“Seriously, Y/N, are you okay? Did I hurt you in any way? Did you not want that to happen? Because I gotta say, you were all over me at the bar, and I get that we had a lot of tequila and were drunk, but I thought you wanted me, too?”

Now that Dean had put his cocky persona aside and the real Dean was in the room, you’d changed your mind again and wanted to kiss him.

“No, Dean. I wanted it to happen. I have for an embarrassingly long time. What I don’t want is to be just another notch on your bedpost. It’s why I’ve never given in to your very persuasive charms over the years. Because I want to be more than just one night to you. And I know that’s not what you want—”

“Woah, Y/N, slow down!” Dean shot up on the bed and turned you to face him. “Did you not hear me when I said this changes things? Do you honestly think I’d risk what we have for one night? I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and last night was the first time since we met that you’ve shown any interest in me. And sweetheart, I haven’t been shy in pulling out my best moves for you.” His words and body language are so expressive and genuine, and you know he’s not feeding you a line. He likes you and he’s wanted you for a long time. All of his flirting and come-ons were real.

“And I thought ‘this is it. I finally get to call her my girl’. Maybe I shouldn’t have followed through with it when we were drunk, but I don’t regret taking my chance with you. Please tell me you don’t regret what happened.” Dean cups your cheeks to keep your gaze on his. The pain crossing his features breaks your heart. You want to tell him you feel the same way, but it’s risky.

“Honestly, I don’t remember much from last night, just bits and pieces, but I know enough to know that if that happened, I wanted it to happen,” you say, trying to ignore the look of Dean’s disappointment at your lack of memory from the night before.

“Do you really want me?” you ask, terrified this was a tequila-induced dream.

“Since the day I met you. And if you’re interested, I’d like to see where we’d go. Together. As a couple.” For once, Dean looks incredibly shy and vulnerable, making your heart swell.

“I’d like that too, De,” you smile, giggling when he grins boyishly.

“Yeah?” he checks, and you nod.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“Then, I think you should lay back and let me refresh your memory of last night,” Dean grins as he gently pushes you back down on the mattress and pulls your legs apart.

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[daisykihannie]

For your ask game can I request Han Jisung and the number 50 please and thank you.

50.) “Quick, propose to me! Also, what’s your name?”

Pairing: Jisung x Gn!Reader

Warnings: fake dating/fake proposal, fluff??, crack??, strangers to lovers??, idol skz, alcohol consumption, mention of substances,

Jisung and His members decided to go to the club tonight to celebrate and unwind before the hectic schedules to come with their comeback. He was currently leaning against the bar while the other members were elsewhere. Minho, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Felix were out on the dance floor while Changbin, Chan, and Seungmin had run to the restrooms.

He wasn’t a huge drinker like many of the other members so he was mostly sober while nursing a random fruity beer he’d chosen. He despised the bitter taste of alcohol but he did enjoy the way it was able to calm his racing thoughts and take the edge off a bit.

He was zoning out a bit, just people watching and keeping to himself when suddenly someone had ran face first into his chest and had a vice grip on his biceps. He looked down to see a stranger on the brink of tears, clinging to him for dear life.

“Please, you’ve gotta help me.” the smaller person shouted frantically over the music. “He- he won’t leave me alone and i’m scared.” he followed their gaze when they looked behind themselves and saw a much larger, middle aged man striding over and he definitely looked pissed.

“Quick, propose to me!” the strangers pleading words took him by surprise but he didn’t really have much time to think or question them with the man closing in rather quickly. So, he pulled away and got down on one knee. He even decided to take off one of his own rings to make it seem more believable and really sell this impromptu proposal.

“wait- what’s your name?” he asked hurriedly while being on one knee and holding his ring out. “Y/N.” they said and glanced behind themselves again and the man was definitely within ear shot now.

“Y/N. I’ve loved you for so long, ever since we met in school I knew you’d be the one I married one day. I’m so lucky to have been able to call you mine for the last 4 years but I just can’t wait anymore. I can’t imagine a life without you by my side, so will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” his speech was 100% pulled out of his ass, thank god he’s a song writer who can freestyle on the spot.

“Yes! Yes! oh my god yes!” you shouted and jumped up and down in faux excitement. You took the ring from his hand, your hands shaking in fear with the knowledge that the man that’d terrified you to the point of asking a stranger to propose to you, was uncomfortably close by still. Jisung seemed to notice you struggling to grab his ring and moved to slip the ring onto your ring finger dispite it being a size or two too big.

He intertwined your hands and stood up, moving one hand to cup the side of your face that was visible to the man and covered your lips with his thumb before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to it. The man wouldn’t be able to tell that it was fake, selling the whole thing even more.

The two of you stayed still for a while, locked in the fake kiss with your eyes shut. You both hoped that when you parted he’d be gone and luckily, when jisung opened his eyes to check, he was. “He’s gone.” Jisung whispered before parting from you, then pulled away and removed his hand from your face.

“oh my god. Thank you so much. I’m so sorry to have put you through that.” you spoke so quickly that your words almost meshed together. Luckily his laugh was so bubbly and sweet that it caused your racing heart to begin to slow. “it’s okay, baby.” he chuckled again and you couldn’t help but join in. “By the way, what’s your name Fiancé?” you giggled at the insane sentence that’d just left your lips.

“Wow, don’t even know your fiancés name.” he said and clutched the shirt over his chest dramatically as if he was actually hurt. “It’s Jisung. Han Jisung.” he flashed you the brightest heart shaped smile and you swore your heart stopped for a moment. This man was breath taking. He was sweet and beautiful, he was also clearly a good person considering his willingness to help a complete stranger with such an absurd request.

“It’s nice to meet you Jisung.” you said and held out your hand for him to shake and he did with that warm laugh filling your ears again, it was infectious and you couldn’t help but to respond with your own genuine laugh. “uh- what the fuck was that Sung,” a deeper voice startled the both of you out of your little bubble.

“Oh- Hey Hyung!” Jisung replied to the man that’d spoke. When did 7 very very attractive men join you two? “Sorry about that, this is Y/N. They ran up to me and begged me to propose to them because this guy was scaring them and wouldn’t leave them alone. They were terrified, frantic, and crying and the dude was terrifying. So, I did what needed to be done to save them.” jisung explained.

You bent into a 90° bow at the waist to the 7 men and began to profusely apologize, stumbling over your words a bit as you felt your face heating up in embarrassment. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re glad that our Sungie was able to help you out. It’s just, as idols, if anyone saw that display then surely it’ll make it to the press and there could be a scandal. Our comeback is a little more than a month away so i’m just a little worried is all.” the man spoke again and this time you could hear a slight australian accent.

“You’re… idols?” you asked, eyes wide. You didn’t want to hurt or ruin the careers of any idols especially not when they’re kind enough to save you like this. The other members aren’t even mad at you for potentially hurting their idol image. This could be really bad. , you knew that, but these men were still being so kind to you despite the possibility of a scandal.

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it or beat yourself up. We can deal with any potential scandals. I’m just glad that you’re safe now. Do you want us to make sure you make it home safe in case that man is waiting you out?” A blonde with an even deeper voice and a thicker australian accent than the previous man spoke next.

“Only if it wouldn’t be too much trouble…” you answered and the 8 men were giving you the most blinding smiles you’d ever seen. It was now painfully obvious that these men were idols. How could they not be? They’re gorgeous, kind, caring, and are incredible at talking to people.

“Can I maybe get your number? You know since we are engaged now and your fiancé might need to rescue you again, it just makes sense.” Jisung was holding his phone out to you with a blank contact entry pulled up. You gave him a shy smile and took the phone, inserting your number and titling the contact “fiancé” before handing it back.

“Come on, let’s head outside and get you a taxi.” the first guy said again and the 9 of you walked out of the club as a group. The tallest of the group was successful in hailing you a taxi and you climbed in after thanking the men one last time. Jisung held his hand to his cheek, in the shape of a phone and mouthed the words “call me” before shooting you a wink as the taxi pulled away to take you home.

You looked down at your hands, a blush still hot on your cheeks and a soft smile paining your lips. That’s when you noticed the ring. Jisung’s ring was still on your finger, if you weren’t already planning to talk to Jisung again, now you had a reason to. Who knows how expensive this ring might be considering his idol status. You had to see him again, at least to return the ring.

[writingoddess1125]

I Fell in love Alone

Was on my sad Spotify and thought of this. First sad fic!

Enjoy Depression!!

Sad Angst

No warnings just sadness

Buggy x GN reader

Part 2

Sitting up from bed, you covered yourself with the large patchwork blanket still nude from the evening before and alone like every morning after.

For 6 months it had been this way with your Captian- the infamous Captian Buggy, at first it had started off as a drunken fling but he kept calling you back.. every night he called for you, had you sit close to him, whisper sweet words over how you were his only. This had continued for these 6 months but every day that passed you couldn't help but feel... empty?

It was like his words had become no better then a script that he followed in order for you to stay the night in his bed, like his touches were to only satisfy his need and not to savor you.

Sitting there in his large bed you look around, like for the first time you'd seen it. Had he ever spent a morning with you? Ever bothered to wake you up from your slumber?... had he ever kissed you? A hollowness began to fill your soul as the realization flooded you.

Getting up you dress quickly, not wanting to stay in the room any longer as that hollowness seemed to fill you further. Rushing out quickly you head out to go to the messhall for a meal, walking in you heard the place filled to the brim. No one bothered to question were you had come from- everyone knew.

Getting your food you sat with a random group of performers.

"Oh person of the month I see" Some of them giggle at you, they always did this- while they were too fearful to outright call you our of your name they would do this instead.

"You do know I heard (Y/N) his flavor of the month right? Is pushing six months- Gotta say longest Captian has had so theyve gotta be doing something right"

The juggler girl said with a laugh, the others at the table also agreeing. Some of the people there talking about their time with the Captian as well, you sitting quietly pushing around your breakfast as you felt a hole in your heart developing with each tale of passionate nights and sweet nothings he had said to your fellow crewmates that he did bed drunk or sober alike.

Their words felt like blades against paper skin and they just cut so deep.

After exiting the messhall you went to your post- continuing to do the large labor of your job, the pull from your muscles and sweat from your back not even facing you as the labor felt better then his gaze which you knew was following you. He always did like to watch you, Normally you turn back and smile at him savoring his validation but.. not now.. not ever again.

You hadn't stopped, not until the call for dinner had brought you out of your working daze. The need for food beating the emotional exhaustion, so you headed back to the mess hall to gather some food.

Making a plate you try to hide, seeing Buggy was there laughing loudly and drinking. You knew the moment he saw you he'd-

"Ah there you are (Y/N)! Come over here" He said with a laugh and waved you over. Reluctantly you did, knowing were he wanted you- seated right to his side so he could show you off while speaking with his underlings. Like a child showing off his shiny toy.

He laughed loudly, his hand finding its way to your hip as he held you close.. your skin crawling st the feeling as you felt more like an object then anything romantic at this point.

"So as I was saying- I'm sure (Y/N) doesn't mind- besides I'm sure they would wear a (least favorite color) leotard for the next show!" He laughed, his hands still on you as he spoke like you weren't even there. It felt like he had just stabbed you in the chest, as a burn of embrassment surgery through you. Looking up to see a few of your peers from afar looking at you, like for the first time you had seen the pity in their eyes and the second hand embrassment at the sight of you.

"Buggy... what is my favorite color?" You ask calmly, He looked at you with a raised brow laughing off the question as he thought it was a joke at first. It wasn't until he caught your eye that he realized you were serious and his lips sealed shut at the lack of answer.

"....When is my birthday?" You ask a different question, a realization of what you were doing set in and he gave a laugh placing his hand back on your hip.

"I know we're your birthmark is" He says with a laugh as the other crewmates in earshot laughed as well. You gently peel his hand from your hip and stand up, Walking out of the mess hall as you hear Buggy call after you which you ignored.

Humiliation shot through your system as the feeling of hot tears warmed your eyes... you were a fool- The biggest fool in this entire circus that you were apart of. Walking out onto the deck you grab one of the spare blankets that seemed to always be left out, wasn't like anyone really kept the place organized anyway..

Standing by the railing of the ship you wrapped the blanket around yourself tighter, looking out at the endless sea. At night like this when the moon was full it looked like you were sailing on stars.

"Hey There you are! What the hell was that about? You made me look like a fool in there!-" Buggy started, you could hear he was buzzed just by the jovial tone in his voice.

"Ha... you the fool.. hilarious" You say softly the feeling of fresh tears staring to run down your face-

"Aw don't be that way baby! Come on its no big deal anyway, let's say I make it up to you back in my cabin and we forget this night even happened"

You look back at Buggy, The large tears running down your cold cheeks. He froze, his heart clenching at the sight of you like this and he.. didn't know what to do- What to say. Had you ever cried in the times you had know him.

"Whats wrong why are yo-" You cut him off quick. Closing your eyes tightly in hopes to stop the tears.

"What is my favorite color?.. a food I like.. anything?" You whispered out, Biting your lip to keep a sob back.

"I...I what do you want me to say (Y/N)?.. I mean is it uh Is it Gray? Blue? Red? I mean you like... Me?" He managed to breath out a forced laugh, swallowing a lump in his throat as he gestured randomly around himself like you could understand how ridiculous this was for him.

"You don't love me do you?.. I really am just am your flavor of the month right?"

Buggy's face falls at your words. You take a shaky breath at this and wait for his answer, but he just stands there opening and closing his mouth unable to form words- A mix of a gentle sob and laugh finally escape you at his lack of answer.

You sniffles and wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself as if it could cover the vulnerability you felt and fear in your heart. Turning away from Buggy as you slowly walked past him, wiping the few remaining tears away.

"You know....I never thought I'd fall in love alone. Goodnight Captian..."

You say softly before heading downstairs, leaving Buggy standing on the deck of his ship alone and a pain he had never felt before in his heart.

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter five: saturday/sunday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, references to sex, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 3.2k

summary: the morning after you and carmy cross that line again, you realize that maybe what you've been looking for has been right in front of you this whole time.

read: part four | masterlist

Saturday

The light flooding in through Carmy’s single bedroom window is exceptionally aggressive this morning. Or maybe it just feels that way to you. Maybe it’s the fact that you’d like to stay here forever – inside of this warm cocoon of sleep and peace that, if you opened your eyes, you’d realize it was all just a dream. You take your time, slowly blinking your eyelids open, to the feeling of another warm body in this bed with you. 

Carmy. 

Holy shit. 

Carmy is in bed next to you. 

Your eyes snap open, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you ever so gently turn to look at him. You pray that he doesn’t wake up yet. He stirs in his sleep, settling back into his slumber, and you feel relieved. 

You just want a little time to… you know… process. 

The events of last night come flooding back in, as you begin to replay them in your mind: going home with him, him cooking for you, crying out his name so loud you wondered if the neighbors heard. 

Yeah, there was definitely no coming back from that. 

What were you going to say to him when he woke up? 

Thanks for the carbonara.

Thanks for making me cum three times last night, you think to yourself, cringing at the mere thought of saying that to him. 

I think we’re in love with each other and I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to New York knowing that I can’t ignore it any longer?

I still have to go back to New York.

“Fffffffuck,” you say out loud. Your eyes widen as soon as you realize that that hadn’t been in your head, slamming your hand over your mouth to cover it. 

Shit.

You can hear Carmy murmuring next to you and instantly regret your little outburst. He rolls over, propping himself up on his side as he begins blinking his eyes open. He’s pictured this moment over and over again since what happened in New York: waking up to you without the sobering reality that his brother was dead and that he may have just ruined the best relationship he’s ever had in his life by sleeping with you. 

“Morning,” he says, sheepishly, a soft smile on his face. 

And as he looks at you, all of your fears, questions, and anxieties begin to melt away. It’s just you and him, and those baby blue eyes. 

“Morning. How’d you sleep?” you say, suddenly warming from the inside out.

“Best I’ve slept in a while.” 

You smile in response as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. You leave a soft kiss on his forehead, then another on that big, beautiful nose of his.

“Hmm. Something different about… somethin’ unusual happen before you went to bed last night?” you ask, playfully, leaving a sweet peck on his lips. He laughs, pulling you closer to him. 

“Nothin’ I can remember, no,” he's quick to banter back, even if he's just waking up. 

You shake your head as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours – this time with more passion. You entertain him for a few more kisses, before pulling away, snuggling up to him. 

“How long till you’ve got to go into the restaurant?” you ask, dragging your fingertips across his shoulders. You catch one of them on the gold chain he’s wearing, noticing that it lays perfectly against his bare skin. 

You want nothing more than to stay in this bed forever, but the sobering reality that you both have to work later today is something you can’t deny. You’d never ask him to do anything but – never take him away from the thing he loves. 

“Gotta go in around 9:30… what time is it?” he asks. He turns away, causing you to groan at the loss of warmth – the loss of him – so that he can check the time. It’s not long before he returns to you, enveloping you in his embrace once again. 

“So two hours.”

You let out a dissatisfied hum in response. 

“You comin’ in this morning?”

“No,” you reply, lazily. “Marcus is flying solo for the lunch shift so that he knows he can do it without me. I’ll give him some feedback before dinner service.”

Without you. 

Right. 

Carmy tries not to think too hard about it – that you’re only here temporarily. He’s not ready to let the thought rob him of the absolute nirvana you both have experienced in the last twelve hours. It’s a future problem for future you and him. 

“Well, what’re you gonna do before dinner service?” Carmy asks sleepily as he rests his chin on the top of your head, hugging you close to his chest.

“Well, you, hopefully,” you joke, only you’re so not kidding. He laughs and you wonder if you’re just imagining the hard on that’s beginning to poke at your thigh. 

“Think I’m gonna swing by the farmers’ market. I want to pick up a sourdough starter for Marcus. You know… as a gift,” you add. 

Carmy hums in response, leaving a kiss on the top of your head before rolling onto his back. If he doesn’t get moving soon, he’ll never leave this bed. 

“Uh oh. Don’t give him any wild ideas,” Carmy sighs out, a dry laugh following. He can’t believe this is real: that you’re here with him, that he woke up and it wasn’t all a dream.  

“There was a time that you loved wild ideas, Berzatto,” you point out, flirtatiously, rolling onto your side so that you are facing him. You remember that his sister called him ‘Bear’ last night, but you think it may be too soon to call him by the family nickname.

There’s a moment between the two of you, where neither of you say anything. It’s a comfortable silence, and you let yourself imagine what life could be like if this was every Saturday morning. Yeah… you were going to have to talk about this eventually. 

“Thanks, by the way,” Carmy says, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He feels shy about what he’s saying and he’s not sure how to do this. “You know. For last night.”

You giggle in response, “You’re so fucking bad at this.”

The two of you share another awkward laugh, before it’s quiet again. 

“Carmy?”

“Hm?”

You wait a beat. 

“Never said I was done with you,” you say, a devilish smile on your face. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you answer, climbing on top of him. He breathes deeply, surrendering to you as you lean down to kiss him. 

*

That afternoon, you come in a little earlier than necessary so that you can meet and debrief with Marcus. As you enter through the backdoor, your stomach is filled with butterflies. It’ll be the first time you’ve seen Carmy after leaving his apartment this morning. 

After making you cum this morning… again.

You took the morning to yourself, enjoying the walk back to your airbnb. You took the subway to the farmers’ market and let your mind run wild as you explored the city by yourself. You’d quit your job in search of something that meant something. And didn’t this mean something? Was this what you’d been searching for? Soul, passion, inspiration… love.

But could you even stay? Would Carmen want you to stay, or was this just a fun fling for him – not that he was that kind of guy. You knew he wasn’t that kind of guy. But what if he thought you were absolutely insane to assume that, after just a few days, he’d want you to move for him? You wonder if you’re going totally insane for even considering moving to a brand new city for some guy. 

But he’s not just some guy. 

It’s Carmy. 

He’s your Carmy. 

Damnit. 

“Hey, chef,” Carmy says, barely looking up from his work station as you pass by. You see he’s got a whetstone and a squeeze bottle half full of water, as he works at sharpening one of his knives. His fingers are wet with the water, and you hear the sound of the blade of his knife being dragged across the whetstone at its most precise angle.

Carmy’s precise. He’s always precise. 

“Hello,” you say quietly, hurrying past him towards the locker area. You’re afraid to make eye contact – to even look at him – because what if everyone knows? What if you melt into a puddle right in front of him and everyone knows?

You strip off your book bag, and then you’re coat, opening your locker to find it empty – save for a freshly washed, crisp, blue apron hanging up in there.

Where the hell is your knife roll?

You put your things down, before haphazardly slamming the locker shut and practically running back into the kitchen in a panic.

“Chef, have you seen my-,” you begin asking, stopping mid sentence as you notice your knife roll neatly tucked into itself, and folded up pristinely, sitting on the stainless steel surface next to where Carmy’s working. 

“Chef? Are you… are those mine?” you ask, checking to make sure no one’s listening in. 

He finally looks up at you, and you’re not sure how it’s scientifically possible that you haven’t turned to jelly right then and there. 

“It’s the least I could do,” he shrugs shyly. He then gives you a curt nod, trying to put on his best professional Carmy, even after doing the most unprofessional things with you.

 “Just wanted to say thank you is all.”

Thank you for inspiring Marcus. 

Thanks for jumping in on the line the other night. 

Thanks for jumping my bones last night and this morning. 

Your breath catches in your throat. Your eyes flicker to his face, and how hard he’s working to not look at you. He’s keeping his hands (and his mind) busy with the consistent, even strokes he makes with his knife against the whetstone. You see his gold chain peeking out from under his perfectly white t-shirt and flashes of seeing it against his pale, bare skin last night begin to invade your mind. Just when you think that you’re going to have to push his $300 knives and limited edition whetstone on the floor so that you can fuck him right then and there, you hear a voice calling out for your attention. 

“Chef! Hey, you ready?” you hear Marcus ask, snapping you out of how hot and bothered you feel. 

You clear your throat, as if that’s going to help you collect yourself. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll put ‘em back in your locker,” Carmy reassures, nodding his head in Marcus’ direction. 

You feel like you’re floating, on such a high from last night and this morning… and the fact that he sharpened your knives?

He might as well have just asked you to marry him right then and there. 

You don’t just sharpen anyone’s knives – let alone by hand. 

As you walk towards Marcus' pastry corner, he’s excited sharing how this morning went. 

“And I want you to try this, chef,” he continues, handing you a donut. “You see, when I was a kid, there was this donut. It was sweet and tangy, and had this bright purple glaze over it. I keep thinkin’ about that, you know?”

You take a bit, surprised by the tangy curd that hits your tongue. 

“So what I did here is I used some of that food coloring you brought in the other day. You know, to make it purple. And I made a passionfruit curd, just like you taught me. At first, I thought maybe I should fuck around with some guava. But no… it’s the passionfruit that hit just right.”

“Is this a cream cheese glaze?” you ask, dissecting each flavor. 

“Yes, chef.”

You take a moment to enjoy the donut. You’re proud too, of how far Marcus has come, in only a few days. 

“The brioche is a little dense so I want to hear a little more about your process so we can make a few adjustments,” you begin, giving him some feedback. “But the flavor pairings are spot on. It’s a really nice combo. Good work, chef.”

“See,” he starts up again. “I thought maybe it wouldn’t work. Like people wouldn’t fuck with a different kind of fruit, you know? But it sold out this morning. Well, except for the one I saved you, of course.”

“You keep following your instincts and making food you believe in, Marcus, and you’ll continue selling out,” you say. “This is really, really good work, Marcus.”

Maybe this is what you’ve been missing, you think to yourself. 

“Ooooh, can I try?” Fak asks, as he walks by. 

“What’s up, chef? You gonna share?” Marcus asks, teasingly as he nods towards Fak.

You chuckle, “Listen, as much as I’d like to hoard this for myself because it is fantastic, yes, of course, I’ll share, Neil.” 

You hand the donut over to Neil before excusing yourself. You hear Neil’s voice asking questions about the bright purple donut as you disappear for a moment in search of the sourdough starter you picked up earlier that day.

They continue to exchange words, and it sounds like Neil is more than complimentary towards Marcus’ passionfruit curd-filled donut. 

“I got you a gift, chef,” you say, returning to the pastry corner. You slide a glass jar across the workstation as Marcus’ eyes it. 

He catches the jar, picking it up to examine it. 

“Is this a-?”

“Sourdough starter? Yeah. Thought I’d leave you with one more gift,” you interject with a smile. “You don’t have to use it for the restaurant, but throw it in the fridge now and take it home… keep it for yourself. And when you’re ready… maybe you’ll work it in to your menu.”

“Ah man,” he says, a grin plastered across his face. “Thank you so much, chef. This is-, this is cool as fuck. Best gift I’ve gotten in a while.”

“Marcus got a sourdough starter?” you hear Sydney’s voice say, as he joins the three of you. 

“Marcus has been getting all of the gifts lately,” Ebraheim chimes in, pulling the attention of everyone in the pastry corner. “What? Carmy got him a teacher. His teacher got him a sourdough starter.”

It’s getting a little crowded in the pastry corner as Neil returns. 

“Oh man. That’s so nice of you,” he says. “You’re so nice. We need more nice people around here. I think you should stay and we should all be best friends.”

“Jesus, Fak,” Sydney scoffs, with a laugh.

“What?” 

“Uh, she didn’t ask for your opinion,” Sydney clarifies, shaking her head at him. 

“Nice? You should see her expediting brunch when three line cooks call out for the day,” Carmy adds, keeping his physical distance, even though he’s joined in on the conversation. 

“Oh ha. Very funny, Carmy,” you shoot back, sarcastically. 

“The fuck are you guys doing just standing here? You guys are blocking the fuckin’ walkway. Behind!” Tina shouts, shooing all of you away to disperse. 

But you all come back together in seconds, and it feels good to be surrounded by this community. 

 “I mean with this new menu, Marcus’ is gonna need more hands anyways, right Marcus?” Sydney suggests, looking from Marcus, then to you, hopeful as she hints and you maybe sticking around. 

Before you can say anything, Tina’s returned, her arms empty as she stops, a hand on her hip, glaring disapprovingly at all of you. 

“You pendejos must be blind or something,” she insults. Tina’s getting ready to spit truth here as she continues with:

“Carmy didn’t bring her in for Marcus. He brought her in because he needed to see his lady jeff.” 

Her comment earns a wide breadth of reactions. Neil’s eyes are wide, while Marcus snorts, and Sydney covers her mouth as she laughs. You can see Carmy’s face turning a few shades redder as he puts his head down, pretending he didn’t hear a single thing. 

“Oh my god, Tina!” Sydney exclaims, at her coworker’s audacity, through laughter.

“I’m just sayin’. In all the time we’ve known Jeff, you ever see him like this?” she adds, turning her attention towards you. “Shit, I wouldn’t mind you stickin’ around either.”

“Tina, you’re out of control,” Marcus says, trying to remain cool and pretend like she didn’t just say what she said. 

“What? I just said the thing we’ve all been thinkin,” she shrugs, before continuing to move through the narrow walkway. 

“I…” you start, on the verge of laughter. Carmy is avoiding your gaze, and you can tell that he’s the shade of a ripe tomato. “Think we should get back to work.”

“Heard, chef,” Marcus says, moving the conversation along.  

Sunday

“Yeah, we’ve gotten really good feedback about basque cheesecake,” Marcus offers up, as you, him and Carmy discuss solidifying the dinner menu-revamp. 

“And I think both the tiramisu and the layer cake will give Marcus a good enough foundation. Customers will expect to see those things, but it gives him space to be creative if he wants to mix it up flavor-wise from chocolate to something else,” you explain, doing your best to pitch the ambitious plan you and Marcus have formulated over the last week.

Carmy takes a moment to think it over, looking over your proposed changes. 

“Okay, yeah,” he finally agrees, his tone commanding. “But Marcus, I want to approve any flavor changes – just at first – make sure the creative parts don’t fuck up your work flow. We can’t afford to get behind.”

“Yes, chef.”

“Chef, what do you need from me right now?” you ask Marcus, as you eye the clock. It’s almost time to start prepping.

“Nothin’ uh. I’m alright. I’ll let ya know if I need anything,” Marcus replies, politely bowing out of your conversation with Carmy. 

You can hear, Richie comin’ in, yelling at Fak about something he swears he didn’t fix right the first time. And there’s Tina’s voice, speaking to Louis in Spanish because he’s gotten into trouble again and the only way she can keep an eye on him is if he comes to work with her. 

“Good work, chefs,” Carmy states, as if it’s just a fact. You’re amazed that he can shut it off – be all business when hours ago, you had his dick in your mouth. 

“Thanks,” you reply, mustering up as much professional courtesy you can give him. “Hey, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“What if I did family today?” you propose. These people have weaseled their way into your heart and it just feels right to show them before you leave. 

“Uh…” he trails off, searching for Syd. “Let me… Syd!”

“What?” she snaps back from another part of the kitchen. She appears, poking her head out from behind a corner. 

“You cool if uh…” he gestures towards you. “...she does family today?” 

Sydney exchanges a quizzical look with Carmy, wondering what this means. She makes a mental note to ask Carmy later. 

“Yeah,” she answers with a nod of approval. “I think everyone would really like that.”

read: part six

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Joel Miller X Reader: The things we do for those we love.

Warning: descriptions of wounds, blood, killing, swearing, vomit, angst(very little), sleazy men, fighting, knifes, guns, violence, fluff...

Word count: 4K

Summary : You're not a violent person by nature but something seemed to change that. "The sound of Ellies panicked screams and Joel's voice calling out your name made something inside you snap."

You knew what anger did to a person. You’d watched Joel beat a man's face to a bloody pulp with only his fists. You’d seen the look on his face when Tess came back from a trade, her face beaten and bruised. You’d seen Ellie, a girl who was far too young to have lived through so much pain, pull a gun on a man to save Joel. You were surrounded by anger constantly yet you’d never found yourself succumbing to its effects. 

Joel normally takes on the role of unhinged killer. The calloused hands that held you through the dark hours of the night became more and more stained with blood the further you traveled. It’s not like you were useless. You’d killed before. When it came to surviving you did what you had to. But you weren’t like Joel. People didn’t fear you. 

While everyone in the QZ knew Joel to be a ruthless killer you were known as his kind hearted helper. The good cop to his bad cop if you will. You’d be the one to talk him into listening before resorting to violence. That didn’t mean you couldn’t be cruel when you needed to be. You’d show everyone that when a sleazy guy had come to make a deal with Joel. 

You sat by the wall staying behind Joel as the man attempted to get your partner to give him ration cards in exchange for some booze. It had been a while since you’d had a drink so the deal seemed rather good. You’d gotten out of your seat, making your way to the counter and glancing at the bottle. It was good shit. You wondered what this man had done to get his hands on something like this. Probably some deal with a Fedra agent. The man's eyes were glued to your frame, his lips curling up into a smile. He looked up at Joel moving closer to him.

“She’s a pretty thing ain’t she?”

Joel's jaw tightened at the comment, his gaze moving to look at you.

“How much for her?”

The man's words slurred together making it clear he wasn’t sober.  Despite his whispering you’d heard the way he spoke about you. Joel's hands clenched under the table. If this man had been insulting him his head would already be crushed on the pavement outside but he knew your rules. You’d made it clear to him that if someone messed with you he could only deal with them after your okay. You placed a hand on Joel's clenched fist under the counter, signaling that you’d handle this one. He hated it but followed your request, stepping back so you could come closer to the man on the other side of the counter. You batted your eyes seductively, hands tracing over the drawing in the wood counter. 

“You know it ain’t nice to talk about a woman behind her back.”

Your hands found the lapel of the man's shirt playing with the loose button as you leaned your face closer to his. 

“If you want something all you gotta do is ask.”

The man let out a grin. His breath reeked of alcohol. Your hand found its way into his hair tugging at his scalp as you smirked at him. He let out a groan.

“Ah so you like it rough hum pretty thing?”

You didn’t answer him, just kept on smiling and gripping at his hair. Joel struggled to stay in his spot, fingers itching to put this man in his place. But rules were rules. So he watched and waited to see what you would do.

“I can do rough.”

“Good.”

With that you back away slamming the man's head on the counter with as much force as you could. He let out a scream, his hands going to his nose. Blood gushed over his fingers.

“Fucking Bitch! You broke my fucking nose!”

You gave him a wolfish grin. The man launched forward, his hands grabbing onto your arms and tugging you over the counter. You let out a screech kicking him in the chest as you fought to get out of his grip. You caught Joel's eyes, moving a hand out to stop him.

“I got it!”

You pulled a blade from your hip, twisting it in your hands before rushing at the man. He tried to duck from your attack losing his footing as he made contact with the staircase that led up to your trading post. He fell backwards, rolling down the stairs and falling onto the pavement. You stood at the doorway, arms flexed slightly as you gripped onto your knife. His blood was smeared on your body in the place he had grabbed you making it clear there had been a struggle. The people outside looked down at the man and then up at you. 

“You ever come back here and I'll make sure a broken nose isn’t the only thing you walk out with.”

The man glanced around, hands going to his face again.

“You got that?!”

He stumbled to his feet, his eyes looking up at you in fear before he ran away.

“Crazy fucking bitch.”

You watched him run, your eyes following his fleeting frame before making eye contact with one of your regulars.

“Morning Susan!”

You gave the woman a smile which she returned with a hesitant wave. You placed your blade back on your hip, making your way back in. Joel was in the same place you’d left him in. You made your way to the counter grabbing the bottle of booze and placing it in a hidden cabinet. Joel followed you with his eyes. You walked past him, giving him a pat on the chest as you did.

“I’m gonna clean up. If anyone gives you trouble, deal with them however you please.”

“Doubt they’ll give any trouble after that.”

You laughed.

“You never know.”

You made your way up the stairs going to clean up when you heard Joel call your name. You turned from your spot to look at him.

“Good job.”

“I told you I had it, didn't i?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t knew you had it in you.”

“Neither did he. And look where that got him.”

Joel gave you a smile leaning against the wall as he watched you move out of view.

“One hell of a woman.”

No one messed with you after that day. The entire QZ heard the stories about how you’d gone feral on some guy who’d wronged you. People did love to exaggerate. You were glad for the peace it had caused. Unfortunately you weren’t in the QZ anymore. And the people out here didn’t even compare to that drunk.

These guys were savages. They killed because they liked it not because they needed to. Unfortunately the three of you had stumbled into the area they’d claimed as their turf. Giving them, in their minds, the right to attack you. Joel jumped into action ducking behind a table and shooting three of your attackers. Ellie crouched by you, her hands shaking as she held onto her gun. You clung to your own weapon, eyes shutting as bullets ricochet near you. You fumbled to reload your gun, cursing as it jammed. 

“Fucking piece of shit!”

“Take mine.”

Ellie handed you her gun but you refused.

“Keep it. You’ll need it in case we get separated.”

Ellie's eyes looked at you worriedly.

“It’s okay honey. I won’t let that happen, it's just a precaution.”

The young girl nodded at you ducking into your side as a bullet shot near you. You peaked up from your cover trying to find Joel. He was a couple feet away from you loading his own gun. You scanned the area between the two of you looking for any attackers. The coast seemed clear enough. You turned back to Ellie grabbing her hands in yours.

“I’m gonna need your help. I have to get to Joel. He has an extra gun he can give me but I need you to cover me okay?”

“O-okay.”

“Don’t worry there aren’t any guys around. All you have to do is stay here and shoot them if they show up. It’ll be quick. I promise.”

You could tell Ellie was nervous.

“Listen, I wouldn't ask you to do it if I didn't think you could. You the toughest fucking kid i know. I trust you.”

Ellie's eyes stared into yours, her gaze growing more confident with your words. 

“Okay. I’ll cover you.”

“Atta girl. On three, okay?”

She nodded, hands gripping her gun as you got ready to run. You counted down before racing to where Joel was. You threw your body against the table head turning to face Joel. He looked back at Ellie and then at you.

“My guns jammed. I need yours.”

“All I got is the pistol.”

“That’ll do.”

“It has three bullets.”

“Guess I'll have to aim for the head then.”

You smiled at your joke but Joel kept a stoney look. You placed your hand out waiting for Joel to give you his weapon. He let out a groan reaching into his back and pulling out his pistol. You turned to go back to Ellie but Joel grabbed onto your wrist. You turned to look at him.

“Be careful.”

“When am I not?”

“I mean it.”

You placed a peak on Joel's cheek removing his grip on your wrist.

“I’ll be careful if you are.”

Joel couldn’t promise you that. You knew it but you always made sure to remind him he was needed. You’d both lost too much. You couldn’t bear to lose each other. None of you had ever said it out loud but the message behind your words were clear. Don’t die on me too. Joel gave you a nod, glancing back to where Ellie had been.

“Where’s the kid?”

Your head snapped in Ellies direction just as you heard her scream.

“Shit. Cover me.”

You raced back to where you had been, your heart dropping as you noticed a trail of blood. You crouched down following the trail as quietly as you could. There was quite a lot of it making you think that whoever it belonged to was badly hurt. You hoped it wasn’t Ellie. Not only was she an important piece to finding a cure she was your responsibility and you’d promised her you’d protect her. Ellie let out another scream causing you to speed up your pace. You turned a corner, eyes catching the sight of Ellie. There were two men by her, one was standing with his leg gushing blood.

“Little bitch cut me.”

“That’s my girl.”

You looked at the man who was holding Ellie still, trying to figure out what kind of weapons he had on him. You stood up ready to charge at the two of them when someone grabbed you from behind. You struggled against their grip, hand moving to shoot them but they were faster. They grabbed your hand, hitting it against the wall and forcing you to let go of your gun. 

“Get off me!”

“Shut up!”

Your attacker covered your mouth muffling the sound of your screams. From where you stood you could see Joel on the other side. He had his back tuned to you not allowing him to see you or the man who was sneaking up behind him. Your eyes widened, desperately trying to call Joels name out to warn him.

“I said shut up!”

You groaned as your attacker hit your head against the wall, your vision blurring at the impact. Your eyes found Ellie, watching as she struggled against another man's grip. She stepped on his foot making him release her. She’d made it a couple of feet before someone tackled her. You heard Joel groan, eyes moving to look back at him. He was fighting against someone. The man had his blade close to Joel's shoulder trying to push it down as Joel held him away. The sound of Ellies panicked screams and Joel's voice calling out your name made something inside you snap. 

You bite into your attacker's hand causing him to release you. You pushed him off you reaching to grab the knife you’d seen clinging to his waist. Your body seemed to move by itself, your hand thrusting the blade into the man's chin with ease. Blood spilled against your hand as you retracted the weapon. It gushed onto your chest as the man fell forward. You stepped out of the way watching him fall down. You spun on your heels turning to face the place Ellie was. Your heart beat fast as you raced to her. 

“Man look out!”

It was too late, you'd already made your way to Ellies attacker pulling him off her and slitting his neck. The man's partner, the one who had tried to warn him of you, looked at you in terror, his hands fumbling to grab his gun. You were quicker, plowing into him like a wild animal. He struggled against you trying to hold your hands away from him.

“Please have mercy!”

“Screw mercy.”

You plunged your blade into his chest, right where his heart was. He coughed up blood as you twisted the blade, staining you in crimson. You stood up, glancing down at the man's frame as he stopped breathing. You heard a grunt from the other side of the wall reminding you of your partner. You ran to the window, your hands and legs snagging onto the broken glass as you jumped to the other side. Your blood oozed out of the small cuts that littered your body. You didn’t feel any pain. All you felt was rage. Joel didn’t couldn’t even tell you were near him until he saw the blade in his attacker's eye. The man's jaw slacked open into a scream as you dove the blade deeper forcing him to get off of Joel. Once he was on the floor you straddled him, removing your blade from his eye and jamming it into his chest over and over and over again. 

Ellie rushed over to where Joel was stopping abruptly once she saw you. Joel was on the ground a few steps away from you, his eyes glued to you. And then there was you. You looked insane. Eyes wide as you kept plunging your knife into the body beneath you. He was dead, it was clear from all the blood but you kept going. Ellie looked at Joel, searching for some sort of reassurance but found none. Joel was looking at you like a stranger. At one point you let out a scream.

“Stay the fuck away from them!”

Your arms burned from the strength you had used. Your clothes clung to your body due to the blood that covered them. You pulled the blade out of the man's chest breathing heavily as you continued to straddle him. Joel got up from where he was, moving towards you. He called out your name but you couldn’t hear him through the sound of your own heart beating in your skull. You felt someone touch you making you turn around. You had a snarl on your face, your hand gripping onto the blade for dear life. Joel grabbed your wrist before you could cut him.

“It’s alright. It’s over.”

Your eyes moved rapidly over Joel's face as your brain struggled to turn off the survival mode. Joel's hand made its way to your face removing the hair that stuck to your cheek before resting his hand against your face.

“It’s me darlin’. It’s just me.”

Your brows creased as you looked at him.

“Joel?”

“Yeah darlin’ I'm here.”

You glanced over Joel's shoulder, your eyes finding Ellie’s frame. She was staring at you. You expected her to be scared of you but something in her gaze told you otherwise.

“It’s okay Ellie. I took care of it.”

Ellies shoulder sagged at your words even after all that you were still making sure she knew she was safe. She made her way towards you leaning down near Joel. You smiled at her hands finding her face. She looked into your eyes.

“Did I scare you sweetie?”

“No.”

You had scared her but she didn’t want you knowing that. A part of her understood that it wasn’t just fear it also made her feel safe. Funny how two vastly different feelings could coincide. She’d experienced this feeling before. Back when Joel had beat up the Fedra agent for her. She liked feeling protected. Even if that meant people had to die. You removed your hand from her face, your palm marking her with blood. Your eyes widened at the sight of the red hand mark on Ellies face. For the first time you seemed to realize what had just happened. Ellie noticed the look in your face, her hand going to wipe at her cheek. She glanced down at the blood and then back at you.

“I’m sorry i-”

“No no it’s okay. It’s okay!”

You glanced down at your body, your nostrils picking up on the smell for the first time. You looked down and saw the mangled body beneath you. Your stomach churned at the sight. You leaned over as you threw up. 

“Oh shit.”

Ellie jumped back stumbling onto her feet. Joel grabbed your hair patting your back as you spilled your guts out. You spit coughing one last time as you finish. Surprisingly you felt a lot better. Joel called out your name, making you turn to him. He handed you a cloth to clean your face.

“Thanks.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah I think so.I’m just not used to so much…”

“I know. Come on, let's get out of here.”

Joel stood up, giving you his hand. You let him drag you up pulling you off of the dead body. You chucked the bloodied blade on the ground.

“I lost your gun.”

“It’s alright. Didn’t have any more bullets anyway.”

“Here.”

Joel turned to look at Ellie. She held her gun out to him. He looked at her for a moment before placing his hand over hers and pushing it against her chest.

“Thanks kid but that one's yours.”

Joel looked around letting go of your hand to grab a shotgun from one of the attackers bodies.

“Plus…”

He reloaded the gun making it let out a click.

“This one is more my style.”

 The three of you made your way out of the building. The sun was starting to go down which meant you needed to find a place to camp. You stumbled through the wood for a while before finding a stream. Joel had patrolled the area and decided it was safe enough to stay in. Once you had a fire going you made your way to the stream. You removed your clothes grimacing as you entered the cold water. You watched as the water around you turned a shade of red, the smell of blood overwhelming you once again. You sank into the water holding your breath for a while before popping back up. Joel watched you from a nearby rock. Ellie had fallen asleep near the fire curled up into a ball. You scrubbed at your body removing all the gunk and blood that had been on you. Now that you were clean you could tell how much damage you’d gone through. There were small gashes in random parts of your body, your knees were full of scratches and there were bruises on your arms from where your attackers had grabbed at you. You leaned into the water floating around for a moment. There was a splash near you making you open your eyes. You tilted your head to the side, finding Joel's frame in the dark. He waded his way through the water as he went towards you. You stood up, watching him move. When he got near enough he stopped. The older man looked at you admiring the way the fire lit up your face. You smiled at him, putting a hand out to him. He grabbed your hand pulling you flush against him. He could feel every part of your body pressed against him. If it had been another time he was sure the feeling of your naked frame would have him acting up but he wasn’t thinking about that right now. In that moment the only thing on his mind was the desire to keep you close. You snuggled into his bare chest inhaling the smell of dirt and leather. Joel caressed your head, his arm wrapping around your waist. You placed your chin against his chest looking up into his eyes. He looked tired. Or perhaps it was worry that made him look that way.

“What is it Joel?”

“Almost lost you today.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I could have. All because I wasn't paying attention.”

“Stop it Joel.”

The tone you used made him shut up. You placed a hand on his face, caressing his beard. Joel closed his eyes focusing on the feeling of your touch.

“You always protect me. I trust you with my life, you know that. But that doesn't mean you're the only one who's responsible for keeping me alive. That is my job. Just how having your back is.”

Joel leaned his head against yours

“Don’t know what i would have done.”

“Shh don’t think about what could have been. Focus on what is. Focus on me. Here. Alive. With you.”

Joel kissed you slowly, the feeling of your lips on his calming him down. You listened to the sound of the water around you and felt the smell of the wood burning a couple feet away as Joel kissed you. You hugged him swaying to the sound of the leaves for a while. You rose your head to look at Joel when he called your name.

“What is it?”

Joel chewed on the inside of his cheek. He knew he meant what he was about to say. He’d known for a long time. Just like he knew tha moment the words left his lips everything between you two would change. It scared him.

“Joel quite thinking about-”

“I love you.”

Your hand froze in midair pausing just millimeters away from Joel's face. His eyes scanned your face searching for any kind of repulsion in them. Your brain struggled to compute Joel's words. This big stoney man you'd met so long ago. The man you’d sacrifice yourself to save. The man you’d known you loved ever since he first lay his hands on your body. Had just told you he loved you and all you could do was stare at him. You felt Joel's body start to pull away from you. His movements snapped you back to reality. You laced your hand into his hair and pulled him down for a fierce kiss. When Joel pulled back to catch his breath you grinned up at him

“What was-”

“I love you too. I’ve always loved you.”

Joel cracked the biggest smile you're ever seen. He wrapped his arms around your legs, raising you into his body as he spun you around. The water splashed around you as you laughed. The sound of Joel's laughter sounded like music to your ears. For the longest time anger had lingered around you. Following you wherever you went. But in the moment the only thing you could feel was joy.

[sucker4sixx]

Particles

Recycled from 2023!

Plot: you cant seem to stay away..

Warnings: distressing themes, self destruction, degradation (not in a kinky way), toxic relationships

You sat on the curb, the streets a blur. People pass laughing with their group like you were invisible, you basically were. Eventually you brought yourself to your feet, eyes unable to focus on a thing.

Another mopey night of drowning your sorrows in vodka like a broken record. At this point you werent sure where you were, becoming almost dyslexic trying to look at the street signs "hey.. man do you like" you slurred to a man who stood alone "i got no change lady" he spat, walking away.

'Its all because of him' you told yourself, trying not to trip up over your own feet 'he tricked me, he trapped me in his spell'. The stone wall you held for support left small cuts on your hands when you would fall but you were far too drunk now to even feel.

As you headed from the busy part of town to the more quieter area you got chilly, the small black dress you foolishly picked out incase you bumped into him not doing much for you. When you 'accidentally' ended up in the quite street that was oh too familiar you felt sick with fear, regret, sadness.

You began to stumble along the pavement again, your legs knowing where to go more that you did. "Fuck." you slurred, falling to your knees but not even remembering how. You sighed, knowing you would have to start your unknowing treck sometime soon. Lazily you raised your head and tried to focus your eyes, to your horror, he stood outside his front garden looking forwards unaware of your arrival or just ignorant of your pain, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Your stared up at him not sure if you were really seeing him or clinically insane.

Slowly his head turned to look at you, unimpressed. "Look at the state your in, doll" the words that wouldve been slurred anyway had completely gone. "What? Cat got your tongue?" Nikki slowly walked towards you, getting down to your level "your a fucking mess, you know that?" He held your chin and slowly moved your head up and down "yes nikki i know that" he spoke in a higher voice to mock you, laughing to himself.

"Your really not going to speak? You cant even focus on me, you alcoholic" slowly you rest your hand on his cheek, moving your thumb round in circles. He was hurt and drunk and you knew that "its okay nikki.. i know your hurt" you tried your hardest not to slur but it was inevitable, his eyes teared up but he kept his beautiful face tough "im not hurt, im a man" he stood up and looked down at you "up. Get up." You obliged, using his legs to help you up "fucking junkie" he muttered, helping you to his house.

Once you were in he gently sat you on his couch, noticing the blood on your knees and hands "you gotta be careful" "why? I have no one to be careful for anymore" nikki sat back, putting his fingers over the bridge of his nose to calm himself down "you broke up with me! Why are you still in love with me?!" He barked, taking you back abit "you cheated on me sixx!" "Oh and fucking what! I did it once, ill do it again!" He sarcastically smiled, quoting the last thing you said to him while you were together "just like you right? Youll show up at my house drunk once? Youll fuckin do it again!" You sighed for a moment, both going quite. The argument suddenly sobering you up more than you would like.

"So? Why are you really here?" He asks, tone still angry but more quite. "I dont even fucking know!" You snap, getting up from his couch and leaving through the front door.

You sat on the curb, streets a blur from the tears that streamed down your cheek. You called a taxi but they said it would arrive two hours tops since it was a saturday night. You missed the way used to be, when you could actually have a conversation and end it with an “i love you baby”.

The tall man sat beside you wordlessly, you didnt even want to look up at him. "Look im so-" "save it, im the one who came here. I need to stop expecting so much from you" he sighed, wiping the back of his arm over his eyes like he had been crying. "I dont think your a mess, i think your the most beautiful girl ive ever seen" you huffed, looking up at him "you cant keep doing this to me" "oh cmon babe, its always going to be me and you"

"look i called a cab just go inside it shouldnt be long"

"is this the last time?"

"Id like to think so" "stop being so god damn negative" he muttered, getting aggravated. You just huffed again, really not in the mood for his antics. He only ever got like this when he had been drinking copious amounts of whiskey.

30 minutes of silence passed "where the fuck is this taxi" nikki looked down at this fingers where he played with his nails "i uh cancelled it" "of course" you brought yourself to your feet, looking down at the man you once thought youd marry "of fucking couse!" Once again you began your treck knowing it would be ages before you got home but way sooner than if you called another taxi "no babe come back" nikki pleaded, walking after you. "This" you pointed between you both "its unhealthy" "i know but it feels so good! Its so right!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands around "you drank more whiskey while i was outside?" "Is it a fuckina crime?" "No but it is when i do it isnt it? What was it? 'Alcoholic'? 'Fucking junky'?" "Oh dont do that, i was speaking the truth!" You walked towards him, now both in the centre of the road "well ill tell you the truth. All you are is your face, your personality is shit and when it can be even near to good thats when your acting like a himbo so that you look dumb and lovable to all your fans that you fuck! Your a manipulator and a cheater and i couldnt name one single positive thing about you. Ive waisted two years of my life over you and that trends over with" nikki falls silent, half of it was fake.. he really could be a sweet guy but you just wanted to hurt him

He tries to speak but tears stream down his face as he backs up, the guilt hits you but you stay silent “i-i just wanted to be perfect for you.. all i wanted was you” he sobs, gasping for air as he backs up to his house, youve never seen him so hysterical before but it worried you. You watch as he stumbles back into his house, slamming the door shut, although he was inside his sobs wracked through the empty street, turning away you walked down the street, trying to drown out the sobs with heavy steps but even when you were too far to hear him his hysterical display still haunted your memory…

You knew youd be back soon enough.

[phantomdoofer]

Tower Town - Pizza History - Risperto per I Morti

Peppino leaned back on the couch, laughing lightly. He'd intended to just stay at home for Halloween this year, but Julio had invited him to a party. To Peppino's surprise, his Mama had insisted he go.

“You need to get out more, Pino,” she'd said firmly. “Julio has been your friend for years. And you might even find yourself having a good time.”

She'd winked at him so knowingly then that he'd blushed furiously. “Mama…” he said, rubbing the back of his shaggy head, “are-a you sure you don't want me to stay?”

She'd laughed. “Oh, my little Peppino,” she'd said, gently caressing his cheek, “I'll be fine. Sinceramente. If it bothers you so much, I won't try to force you. But, other than your football, you don't ever socialize. You should try it. At least once.”

And so he'd accepted.

Arriving at Julio's house, the young man had greeted him profusely. “Peppino! Thanks for coming, amigo!”

Peppino had noticed Julio had a beer in his hand. Forgot his parents don't care if he's underage. His Mama wouldn't let him have more than a bit of wine. “When you're of age, polpetta, you can make your own decisions,” she'd said firmly. “But there's a history of alcoholism in my blood. Be careful, mio figlio.”

Peppino had stepped in, hearing a small but loud round of voices chortling and laughing in the next room. “Thanks for-a inviting me, Julio.”

“¡Por supuesto! I know parties aren't your thing, but come on! Live a little, amigo!” He’d slapped Peppino on the back, which he barely felt. He's already drunk, Peppino had thought with a mixture of trepidation and amusement.

“¡Entra, entra! ¡Habla, mézclate, amigo mío!” Julio had been unusually boisterous, even for him.

Peppino had looked around - he saw no adults. “Are-a your parents OK with-a this?”

Julio had laughed. “It was their idea! They're on vacación! Told me just to keep it at home, don't drink too much, and don't destroy anything!”

The small group in the living room, mostly their street ball friends and their partners, had seen him then, and had all called him over.

Julio had slapped him on the back again. “You see, amigo? You've got a place here! Sit! Relax! Have fun!”

And so, despite his fears, Peppino had. He'd waved off the alcohol (“I can't, Mama would kill me”), and they'd laughed it off, teasing him just a tiny bit but taking it in stride.

After a while, Peppino found himself enjoying things.

As the movie they'd been watching ended - a classic slasher movie - Julio jumped up, running back with water bottles for everyone. “Drink, drink!”

One Ogre, a boy named Lenny, had groaned but taken it. “Ah, c’mon Julio, I jus’ got a good buzz goin’!”

Peppino had jumped in. “You don't need a buzz, you don't have anything up there to get buzzed!”

Everyone had laughed, at that stage of drunkenness where everything was funny. Peppino, cold sober, laughed along. He hadn't been sure how the line would go over, but it had landed easily. Maybe I should get out more often!

Julio was practically bouncing. “I've got an idea! But I don't want everyone passing out. We gotta be sharp.” He'd grinned maliciously.

Another boy, a human named Heath, looked up. “Spit it out, J, what're you up to?”

Julio's grin got even wider. “We're gonna go down to that big cemetery down the road and find the oldest grave!”

Peppino's eyes went wide. “B-but Julio, isn't that-a dangerous?” It was no secret that occasionally some old soul would come back and pop out of the ground, going for a bit of a walk… and not being particularly friendly to the living.

Julio was practically hopping. “Come on, don't be such a aguafiestas, Pep! It'll be finnne!”

As the others talked it over, they were getting more and more into the idea. Peppino's heart twisted a little. I better go along, if only to keep an eye on this bunch of drunks! He held up both hands in surrender, and smiled. “Ok, ok, hai vinto!”

Julio jumped into the air, whooping. “That's the spirit, Pep! ¡Eres la neta!”

Peppino stood, resigned to babysitting his friends. Everyone was whooping and laughing. Peppino held out his hand to Julio. “Give-a me your keys, Julio, just in case you forget.” He smiled to take some bite out of the demand.

Julio handed them over. “Tienes razón, amigo. I'd probably forget to lock the door, then some ratero would steal everything and mi padre would kill me.” He wobbled a bit and grabbed Peppino's arm. “Eres un buen amigo, Peppino.”

As the group danced around outside, Peppino locked the door behind them, then pocketed the keys. “¡Todo bien! ¡Que empiece esta fiesta!”

As they set off, Peppino reflected on Julio's tendency to lapse into Spanish as he got drunk. Wonder if I'd do the same thing in Italian?

He heard Julio calling, already far ahead. “Hey, culo gordo! We going or what?”

Peppino laughed and waved. “Ah, shut up, Julio! I'll be right there…”

~~~~

The group was stumbling through the darkness, laughing merrily. Peppino was feigning joining in, but he was worried. I'm the only one not blasted out of their mind. What if one of them does something stupid… and I'm not paying enough attention?

Needless to say, he was no longer having fun.

As they approached the cemetery, one girl, a young human girl named Amy, was getting more and more distressed. Peppino looked over, and realized she had tears in her eyes. He slowed, letting her catch up. “What's wrong?”

She had her hand over her mouth - Peppino realized she was trying not to bawl. “Something’s wrong,” she whispered. “Something's very wrong. We shouldn't be doing this. We should be here.”

Peppino felt a chill run up his spine. Though he hadn't known her for long, everyone else said Amy seemed to have strong senses, to the degree it might be some kind of power. They normally took her warnings seriously. “We should tell the others, then…”

She waved a hand at the laughing drunks in front of them, and choked out a quiet sob. “Do you really think they'll listen?”

Peppino sighed. “Probabilmente no.”

She reached out and grabbed his arm so tightly he flinched. “We have to get them in and out of there as fast as we can. Help me, Peppy, please.”

He looked down into her wobbling eyes and couldn't disagree. “Va bene, Amy,” he muttered. “I'll try.”

He looked up and realized they were at the edge of the cemetery. He shivered a little. She's right, this is wrong. “Uh, guys, do you really-a think we should be doing this? It’s a bit dis-a-respectful…”

Julio laughed. “Ah, come on, Pep! It's not like we're gonna be tearing the place up…” He turned, seeing the two of them standing - Peppino grave and concerned, Amy openly trying not to cry. He walked over. “Amy? ¿Qué ocurre?”

The rest of the group, catching the tone in Julio's voice, turned back. Amy finally broke, the tears running down her cheeks. “Something's wrong. I don't know what. Something's wrong.”

The group sobered up a bit.

Peppino looked Julio in the eyes. “Should we go back?”

Julio shook his head, fighting the alcohol's effects, but having little success. “Nah, we're not going back, but…” He turned to the others. “Be respetuoso, de acuerdo, everybody? Respectful.” He turned, threw out his chest, and walked into the cemetery grounds.

The rest followed after, no longer laughing or playful, but still moving forward.

Peppino and Amy stood on the road. Peppino felt fear and despair radiating off the girl like a heat wave.

She shook her head. “I can't. I can't go in there. I can't.” She shook her head, trembling.

Peppino grabbed her shoulders. “”You don't have to. I'll go keep an eye on them, try to get them out velocemente, va bene?”

She nodded quickly. “Try to hurry, Peppy,” she whispered, “something's really really wrong…”

Peppino nodded, turned back, and set his foot on the grounds…

Immediately a shiver went through his very soul. He didn't see or hear anything, but the moment he'd crossed the threshold, he'd felt it.

Anger. Deep, cold anger.

He visibly shivered.

“You feel it, don't you?” Amy said.

Peppino clenched his teeth, trying not to shake. “S-sì,” he chattered. “I'll-a get them out as fast as I can, all right?”

He walked after his friends, the girl standing on the pavement, trying not to sob.

As he walked, he looked around. Gravestones were scattered randomly. It was the oldest cemetery in La Crosta - there hadn't really been a design or purpose in mind. People were too busy trying to survive.

He gingerly stepped around where he knew a body was buried. “Mi scusi,” he muttered. Doesn't hurt to be respectful.

As he walked, he found the others. They were staying true to their word: all of them were picking carefully across the grounds (as carefully as a bunch of drunks could be, anyway), avoiding stepping on graves, putting flowers back on stones, and so forth.

No one was laughing. Not anymore.

Peppino saw Lenny shake his bushy head. “Man, Julio, this ain't fun anymore. Amy's right, somethin’ ain't right here. We oughta leave.”

Julio looked like he was staying not to shake. “We'll just - we'll just find the oldest grave and leave right after, ¿bueno?”

Lenny shook his head again. “There's brave, then there's stubborn, y’know…” he muttered, but kept looking.

Peppino circled a grave off away from the others. Despite being lit from all sides, he couldn't read the inscription. He's not going to leave until we do this. Please let us find it…

He circled back to the front. Unexpectedly, he saw a cat slink from behind the grave. It was a black as the night itself.

Peppino felt his hair stand on end. I've had my eye on this stone the whole time! There's no way I didn't see that cat!

It had appeared from nowhere.

The cat's body language was odd. Its ears were forward, indicating calmness, but its tail was lashing violently, showing it was angry.

It sat down on its haunches, wrapped its tail around its feet, looked up at him, and hissed, loudly and expressively.

Peppino's heart skipped a beat, and the anger he'd felt radiating at him the entire time rose exponentially.

The message was clear as day.

Get out.

Suddenly the cat was gone.

“AMICI, WE NEED-A TO LEAVE, NOW!” Peppino said stridently. His tone carried an edge of absolute terror.

Immediately the rest of the group came to him. “Peppino, what's wrong-” Julio started.

“Ho detto che dobbiamo andare via, adesso!” Peppino gibbered, then realized no one knew what he'd said - in his terror, he'd switched to Italian. “We need-a to leave, now! Now!!”

“But we haven't-”

“NOW!!!” Peppino repeated, he grabbed a girl's arm, and started walking back towards the road.

The rest followed behind. “Peppino, amigo, I've never seen you so, uh, assertive…”

“Some-a-thing’s wrong! Amy was-a right, we shouldn't-a be here!” Peppino said loudly.

“OK, OK, amigo, we're leaving…” Julio strode ahead, where Amy waited, weeping…

“Oof!” Julio grunted as he slammed into an invisible wall.

Amy started openly bawling.

Julio ran his hands up and down the unseen surface. “¿Que mierda? There's nothing here!”

The others ran up and began beating on the wall.

Amy shook her head. “I said we shouldn't be here… I said… I said…”

Peppino put his hands on the wall. “Amy! Calmati! Get away from here! Go back to the house!”

The girl shook her head, then shrieked and pointed. “Behind you!’

Peppino turned slowly, terrified of what he would see…

Behind them, floating in the air, ghostly figures floated. Almost transparent, the only things clear were their eyes.

Their eyes glowed with absolute hatred.

“RUN!” Julio cried out, and the group took off.

Peppino sped off ahead.

As he accelerated, Julio called to him. “Peppino! See if you can find an exit! If these demonios touch us, we're dead!”

Peppino nodded, and shot forward. He skidded as he desperately dodged the grasping hands of the dead. Behind him, he heard a terrified shriek as someone fell.

The shriek cut off suddenly.

Peppino's blood ran cold. These things really are trying to kill us! He cried a little as he ran. What did we do? Why are they doing this?

As he ran, he saw the main entrance. Maybe the attendant will know what to do! He flung open the door to the gatehouse…

The little old man lay face-down on the floor.

“”Oh Mio Dio,” Peppino said quietly. He knelt beside the old man. Please don't be dead, please don't be dead…

Peppino saw the man's chest rising and falling. He breathed out - the man was alive. He gently shook the old man's shoulder. “Signore? Signore, can you hear me?” He felt tears running down his cheeks - he heard more cries in the distance as his friends met their ends. “Please, Signore, you have to help us…”

The old man stirred, then snarled. “You damn kids, I tol’ ya, you can't-” he looked up, into Peppino's terrified face. “Wait, Who- who’re you?”

“Please, Signore, my friends are dying,” Peppino said, trying not to blubber. “We weren't-a doing anything bad, we just-a wanted to find the oldest grave! Please! We-”

The old man waved irritably. “Slow down, kid.” He sat up, then squinted at Peppino's face. “Yer not one o’ the ones I seen before. “Ye didn't come to cause trouble?”

“No, no, Signore,” Peppino said despairingly, “We were-a very careful! We didn't-a mean harm…”

“Calm down, kid!” The old man growled.

“Calmati? CALMATI??” Peppino roared. The old man leaned back in surprise. “My friends are-a dying, and you want me to be calm??”

“Yes,” the old man said. “They're not dead. Not yet.”

“Che cosa?” Peppino said, bewildered.

“Their souls’ve been separated from their bodies, is all,” the old man said calmly. “If we get to ‘em quick enough, we can fix that.” He tried to stand, and Peppino helped him up. “Ach. My back. But those other heathens got ‘em all stirred up good now. We gotta fix whatever they broke.”

“Others?” Peppino repeated dumbly.

“Another group o’ kids, like you,” the old man snarled. “They wanted to come in and ‘perform a ritual.’ Load ‘a tripe. When I told ‘em t’ bugger off, they knocked me out “ He looked outside. “Guarantee that's what's got the dead up in arms.” He stumbled over to a cabinet, and pulled out a small leather shoulder bag. Slipping it over his shoulder, he turned. “We have t’ find the first group. We gotta appease th’ dead, or none of us is gettin’ out alive.”

Peppino crossed himself. “Dio ci aiuti. Is there-a anything I can do to help? I have-a powers, I can run very fast, and I'm-a very strong.”

The old man looked him over appraisingly. “Ya might just be helpful, at that. You can carry me,” he said, stepping outside. He pointed at the gate, where a scattering of beer cans sat. “Damn drunks. Got theyselves Spooked to death. Follow the cans, boy. We'll find ‘em like that.”

Peppino picked the old man up in a bridal carry - he seemed to weigh nothing. “What if I encounter a spirit?” He quavered.

“Run around ‘em,” the old man said matter-of-factly. He sneered. “Hope yer quick as ye say, Italian boy.”

Peppino took a deep breath, and started running.

~~~~

It didn't take them long to find the perpetrators. They had left a veritable breadcrumb trail of empty cans. “An’ I'll have t’ clean all this shit up,” the old man grumbled.

Peppino said nothing; he was too busy dodging violent ghosts. One had brushed his arm, and he'd felt a chill colder than he'd ever encountered flow through his forearm. The arm was still almost numb. “You're awfully-a calm to be surrounded by malicious spirits of-a the dead,” he said.

The old man sneered. “I am, ain't I?”

He didn't say anything else, and Peppino stopped talking. Save your breath for running, Pepe.

Finally, they arrived at a large vault. In front of it was a circle of young adults. College students, from the look of them. They had drawn a crude pentagram on the ground, and the vault door had been broken.

The bodies of the students lay strewn around like debris, surrounded by beer cans.

“Put me down, boy,” the old man said. As Peppino did so, he dug into his bag. “Damn fools.” He pointed at the center of the pentagram, where the remains of a skull lay. “Grave-robbin’. An’ fer what? A joke? A cheap thrill?” He pointed at the body in the center. “That's the ringleader. The one who knocked me out.”

“Shouldn't we-a do something, Signore?” Peppino said. He started to move forward-

The man's arm shot out like a snake, wrapping around Peppino's forearm like a bony vice. “If ye value yer life, boy, don't move.”

Peppino froze. “Eh? W-why?”

The old man lit a large white candle. “Cause we're not alone.”

As the light brightened, it illuminated floating figures - figures that had been invisible until that moment. Each either hovered over a body, or spun around, creating a slow vortex of fear and hatred.

In the air above the broken skull floated a larger spirit, their hair floating and wild.

The look on their face was pure fury.

The old man stepped forward, and the spirit dashed towards him, shrieking.

“Vecchio, attento-!” Peppino started.

The old man quickly held up an object, and the spirit reeled back, moaning and growling.

“Sorry, old folks, but it's gotta be done,” the old man said quietly. He gestured at the circle of bodies. “Now, I understand. These idiots have violated yer rest.” He waved back at Peppino, who was shaking so hard he couldn't even scream. “But this one an’ his friends didn't mean no harm. Y'all had no need t’ harm them.”

The spirits all flew towards him, screaming. Peppino covered his head with his arms. Oh God, this is it-

The old man held the object over his head. “Recedite, mali spiritus! Scis me verum loqui!”

They all stopped.

“Isti filii nondum mortem merentur. Dimitte eos: vel iudicium face,” the old man said forcefully.

The ghosts fell back, glaring but silent.

The old man looked over his shoulder. “Go get your friends, boy. Bring them here. I can help them.”

Peppino nodded, and took off as fast as he could.

~~~~

As Peppino laid Julio's body down, he saw some of the students sitting up, rubbing their heads and groaning. The old man bent over Julio's body, laying something on his chest. “Animam hanc infantis in carnes eorum redde," he muttered.

In the light of the candle, Peppino could see Julio’s soul, floating above, dip and fly into the cold body. Immediately the color returned to his face, and his eyes opened. He looked over. “Pep, what-” He looked around, seeing the various spirits floating around. “MADRE DE DIOS!” He leapt up, his eyes wide. Then he saw the bodies of their friends. “Oh God, they're all-”

Peppino grabbed the boy and hugged him so hard Julio suddenly had more immediate concerns. “Meno male, amico, you're back!”

Julio laughed but was seriously worried Peppino was going to crack his ribs in his enthusiasm. “Pep, Pep, stop! Remember how strong you are!” He managed to squeak out.

Peppino blushed and immediately dropped him. “Scusa, amico, but… I'm just glad you're alive.”

Julio remembered the corpses. “Wait, but everyone else-”

Peppino shushed him. “It's OK, amico. The old man's got it under control.” As they watched, he performed the same ritual, and another of their friends returned to life.

Julio was perplexed. “Pep- what-? How-?”

“Let me explain.”

~~~~

Minutes later, only one body remained lifeless - the man who'd started the whole mess. His friends stood over him. “Isn't there anything you can do? You brought us back!” One young woman sobbed.

The old man pointed around. “The rest of ya were just pawns or bystanders in all this. But this one…” he pointed at the body, “he had evil in his heart.” He gestured at the angry spirits who still surrounded them. “They have a score t’ settle with ‘im.”

“But… but what about his familia? The police? They'll have questions,” Julio said. “We can't just… leave him like this, no matter how nasty what he did was!”

Peppino and the others nodded. “Sì. There'll be too-a many questions.”

The old man sighed. “Ye have a point.” He looked up. “Quis vestrum habet hanc animam pueri?"

The spirits milled about, and the largest one opened their arms. A smaller spirit drifted downward, looking forlorn.

“Ah, there ye are,” the old man said. He beckoned, and the man's spirit drifted forward. “Ye done a great evil tonight, boy. Not only did ye violate the rest of th’ dead, ye dragged all yer friends in, as well, an’ they paid th’ price, too.” He gestured at Peppino and his friends. “Ye even nearly got all these kids killed. Ye deserve a place in Hell.”

The spirit looked distraught, shaking their head, making no sound but obviously pleading.

The old man shook his head. “‘S not up t’ me, boy.” He gestured to the larger spirit. “Ask him.” He looked upward. "Quod pretium facis pro emissione animae pueri?"

The larger spirit drifted, their hatred radiating so hotly that even the most spiritually-blind could feel it. Finally, it spoke.

“Senex es, curator. Pretium est huic puero tuo post tuum transitum, quod reliquum est vitae. Et ipse et amicus eius hanc criptam reficere debent."

Julio leaned over and whispered to Peppino. “The hell'd he say?”

Peppino shrugged - he'd picked up enough Latin at school to get the gist of it. “He wants the guy to-a replace the old man as caretaker. And for all of-a them to rebuild the crypt.”

Amy snorted. “After what they did, that's getting off pretty light,’ she muttered.

The old man looked at the smaller spirit. “Well? Yer one chance, right there, boy. Do you accept? Or will ye proceed t’ Hell, where ye're bound right now?”

The spirit seemed to sigh, and nodded.

The larger spirit drifted down, and touched the man's body; immediately some kind of barrier lifted, and the old man performed the ritual.

The other spirits faded away.

The old man turned. “Well, ye all heard. The ones who helped him… you got a lot of work to do.” He turned to Peppino and his friends. “Sorry for this.” He waved a small amulet in the air. “Quid hac nocte accidit, nemo vestrum loquetur."

Peppino felt something settle into his head. “Hey, what'd you do?” Julio said.

“Sorry, but I had t’ place a geas on ye,” the old man said. “Ye can't tell anyone about what happened here. So I made it where ye literally can't. People would panic if they knew things like this happened.”

“So, this has happened before??” Peppino said.

The old man grinned maliciously. “Yer told t’ respect the rest o’ the dead fer a reason, boy. Now, go home. Forget what ye saw tonight. An’ know… the dead are watchin’...”

~~~~

Peppino quietly closed the door to their apartment behind him. He was ludicrously late, but he was hoping his Mama would forgive him since she'd been the one to encourage him.

“Good evening, figlio,” he heard his Mama's voice drift up from the recliner. “Interesting time of night to come home. It's almost morning, in fact.”

Peppino winced. “Mi scusi, Mama, I just lost-a track of time.”

“Oh, so you were having that much fun?” She said, but at least she sounded amused.

Peppino couldn't tell her anything, of course. Not about what actually happened. “Sì, Mama. It won't happen again.”

“So, what did you get up to?” she said with a wicked grin.

What? That we went to a cemetery, almost all died, and witnessed an old man drive off the dead? That he resurrected everyone, then swore us all to magical secrecy? That I almost died myself?

“Oh, nothing-a much, Mama. We just watched a few movies, stuff-a like that…”

[rivetgoth]

Now that both parts of IAMX’s Fault Lines are out I just wanna take a minute to say again how fucking much Chris Corner has evolved his sound recently and how good it is and how much people are sleeping on his new output. It was a couple years ago now that he first started playing around with the more erratic experimental modular synth sounds and seeing from that this new era of his music flourish has been such a treat. Fault Lines1 opening with Discipline genuinely blows my mind.

That heavy, irregular beat and the complex noises happening and the increased distortions and splicing of his vocals near the end is just soooo hot. This whole EP left me genuinely reeling thinking “how do people just keep on inventing new good music? How have we not run out of songs at this point??” LMAO. There’s so much I could say about Fault Lines1 alone. There’s such a creeping sinister cultish element to it. I absolutely fucking adore In Bondage’s “Apathy, baby, is the perfect self defense” being echoed in Thanatos’ “Do you bury your dreams in apathy?”

Now Fault Lines2 is out and it takes a lot of that heavy irregular direction further. Neurosymphony as an opening gives me chills every single time, and Infinite Fear Jets is so clubby and heavy. Both of these songs back to back as EP openers is crazy.

And I know I posted about this one earlier but I’ve been obsessed with Conflict Medication. This song is so strange and experimental and exciting to me, it’s sooo standout for the heights Chris has been reaching recently. I adore the reference to Metanoia too.

But also interestingly, from the cover to the sounds to the general lyrical themes I think it’s a little lighter than Fault Lines1? It’s a little brighter, a little more hopeful. Fault Lines1’s The X ID saying “The hole’s too deep for the drugs to get me through / The city created my fears and took my mind / Oh Mirror, give me back my time” versus Fault Lines2’s Grass Before the Scythe saying “Gotta do my best to stay sober / ‘Cause self-loathing gets messy as you get older.”

Anyway. I’m not really saying anything profound here, I’m just really excited about this. IAMX has been one of my top favorite bands of all time for like a decade now and the Fault Lines project has just absolutely blown my mind. More to come on my thoughts later I’m sure but yeah for now I just wanted to ramble about it lmao.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Prince's Protected | Serpent's Nest

Hello! So I spent a good chunk of my time the other day rereading “come now little prince” (ridiculously good!!) and I was wondering if you would consider expanding on that part in the most recent chapter where the heroes take care of Janus? (Specifically a scenario of Roman taking care/comforting Janus bc I love how you’ve written them in this and would be really interested to see that dynamic shift and how the relationship between the two grows as time has passed) also! I’m in the middle of reading Tales of Thicketdown Forest bc I’m obsessed with your writing and goodness it’s so sweet and has me feeling very soft and I can’t wait to finish it! – anon

Read on Ao3 Masterlist

Warnings: gsw, blood loss

Pairings: roceit

Word Count: 2074

"Stay with me," Remus grunts as he shoulders open the door, hand still pressed to the wound on Janus's side, "we're almost there."

Janus grits his teeth and shoves his cane under him, trying in vain to prop up his weight with his non-working arm. Remus catches him without blinking when it clatters uselessly to the ground. Granted, he still manages to bash his knee into the hardwood floor before he's swung up properly, but that leg was already on its way out in the first place.

"Shit. Sorry."

"Apologize after I'm not bleeding out," he grits through clenched teeth. Remus just chuckles darkly and presses on into the dark apartment.

Now, realistically, they should have gone to the medical facility, but at the risk of sounding paranoid, they weren't sure what else was compromised. Certainly having a bomb explode Janus's car before got in was sign enough that his security needed to be tightened, they didn't need to ask the question of if the medical staff had been infiltrated too. Besides, Janus didn't get to where he is by having only one contingency plan.

He's jolted out of his musings by a rough deposit onto one of the couches, Remus kneeling over him a second later, both hands still pressed to the wound. Janus manages a half-hearted protest at the rough treatment when he catches sight of the fear lingering behind Remus's stoic gaze. Ah, Remus…ever his feral little junkyard dog…so unprofessional when it came to everything but the worst parts of the job. And here he is now, that loyalty glimmering through the mask he wears as a member of the Serpent's crew, as his hands fill with blood that should never have been spilled.

…the blood loss really is getting to him, he's never this introspective sober.

One hand lifts almost on its own to card gently through Remus's hair, leaving a few red trails on his temples and the very tip of his ear. Remus's gaze flies to his immediately, searching for what might have gone wrong, only to twitch when he realizes Janus is only petting him.

"The doc's almost here," he says instead, refocusing, "just hang on."

"It's okay, sweetie," Janus murmurs drowsily, "I know it'll be okay."

"Yeah, it's gonna be fine, you just hang in there."

"My Remus," he coos, still running his hand across Remus's scalp, "my sweet Remus…such a good boy. Feral little junkyard dog…"

"Shit, you really are out of it," he hears Remus murmur distantly, mostly to himself, "doc better fucking get here soon."

He can tell by the blur of black and the fact that Remus moves him to lie down that the doctor is here, but what's more important is that Remus doesn't leave. Instead, he stands where Janus can still pet him, blinking sluggishly at his face as he watches the doctor work. A few sharp pains lance through the pleasant haze and he winces. Remus wraps his arms lightly around Janus's shoulders and holds him there.

"You gotta hold still, Janny, it's almost done. You're gonna be just fine, okay? We'll get you on painkillers and everything, just hang on."

"'S it bad enough for the good stuff?"

Remus must have a conversation with the doctor. Then he shakes his head. "Nah. You're just being dramatic."

"That's my right."

"Uh-huh, and it can be your right even more when you're not about to bleed out on this couch."

"'S my couch an' my blood, it can go where I want."

"As long as it's in your veins and not all over the shit you'll make me clean up, yeah, that's fine."

He tugs lightly on Remus's hair in reprimand as the doctor finishes patching him up. Slowly, the wooziness of blood loss starts to turn into the fog of painkillers as Remus helps him sit back up. He sees the doctor off with a nod and looks around for his cane, noting that Remus must have left his side at some point to stand it back up in its place by the door—what a sweet boy.

"Guys nabbed him already," Remus is saying—ah, yes, the fool who put the bomb under his car, excellent—"I'll be down there tomorrow once I'm sure you're not about to do anything stupid."

"Please, my dear, have a little faith." He goes to push himself up from the couch—

"That," Remus barks sharply, and then there are hands on his shoulders pushing him back down, "like that. That's the stupid shit I need to make sure you don't do."

"Oh, relax, Remus, I am fine—"

"You are not fine, you're just high as shit on painkillers right now that make you think you're fine."

"I'm not high, Remus, I know what that feels like and this isn't it." Janus sighs in frustration when Remus doesn't let go of his shoulders. "Oh, for the love of—I know what painkillers feel like, I know that I'm hurt, now let me up."

If it had been any other operative, perhaps the steel he injected into his tone might have sufficed to make them stop babying him. But oh, no, not Remus, who just gives him a look. What happened to the days when he didn't even have to say anything and Remus would know to back off?

Distantly, he registers Remus's fingers twitching ever so slightly and he realizes must've said that out loud. He lets out a low noise and reaches out to rest his hands on Remus's ribs.

"Shh," he mumbles—are they sure they didn't give him the good stuff? He's having trouble keeping his eyes open—"I didn't mean it."

What happened to the days when I did?

"I know," Remus says, voice softening just a touch, "just like I know you need to move as little as possible right now."

"What," he half scoffs, half laughs, "are you going to babysit me until you think I'm all better?"

"No."

"Good, because—"

"I'm gonna get Roman to do it."

"—that wouldn't work out for—you're going to what?"

And as if he could hear him, which at this point he's not going to put past either of them, Roman walks out from his bedroom. Janus's eyes widen slightly as he comes to take Remus's position in front of him, sitting on the coffee table as Remus hands him something he tucks into his pocket.

"Stay put," Remus says, "I'll be back."

"Oh, so you give the orders now?"

"You're injured, so yeah."

"Hey," Roman says softly as Janus tries to turn and follow Remus's path across the room, "he wasn't kidding, you know, you need to stay still."

At the first brush of Roman's hand against his flank, he sighs, resigning himself to letting the little prince fret over him for a moment. If he can reassure the both of them that he's fine, then perhaps he stands a better chance of convincing Roman that he can actually stand up. A cute little furrow forms between Roman's brows as he looks at the doctor's handiwork, the fingers on his free hand almost ghosting over the stitches.

"You're going to have to be careful of how you lie down," he says, still speaking as though if he said his words too loudly, they might shatter in the quiet air, "keep the stress off the surrounding skin."

"I have done this before, you know."

"I know." Roman looks up to meet his gaze. "That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

He's definitely blaming it on the painkillers that he nearly melts at that, reaching out to brush his thumb against Roman's jaw. "I'm alright, little prince."

"So you need to stay still in order to be all the way better."

"Little prince—"

"You barely let me move when you first put my stitches in," Roman says before he can finish his thought, looking up at him with devastating softness, "it's okay. Just sit, I can take care of everything else."

"That's not your job, sweetie."

"But I want to do it. Look—you've done so much for me. For all of us, okay?" He reaches for the hand still brushing his jaw, cupping it between both of his and pulling it to his chest. "And now you're the one who's hurting. Let me look after you for a little bit, okay?"

Janus looks at his little prince, savoring the feeling of his hands wrapped so firmly yet delicately about his own. "Who taught you to be so sweet?"

At Roman's bashful little smile, he sighs, leaning back against the couch and tugging Roman with him. Roman comes, sitting ever so carefully on his non-injured side. Janus frees his hand from one of Roman's and brings the other to his lips, kissing it gently. Sweet little prince…

"Come lean on me."

He rouses himself a little. "Hm?"

"You look tired," Roman murmurs, settling himself more securely on the couch, "come and lean on me if you want."

It takes a fair bit of careful shifting before Janus is leaning steadily against Roman's bulk, his head nestled in the crook of his shoulder, his hair tickling the underside of Roman's jaw. One of his arms is wrapped securely around Janus's shoulders, the other still tangled with one of his hands. His puffing breaths warm the very top of Janus's nose, his chest almost rocking him to sleep as it rises and falls. He turns ever so slightly to press a kiss to the crown of Janus's head and Janus hums.

"You've done this before."

He feels more than sees Roman nod. "Did this with Remus a lot. And the others."

"I'm…sorry."

Roman shifts just enough to squeeze him in a tiny cuddle. "Thanks to you, we won't ever have to worry about that ever again."

He must start drifting there, on the couch, in the arms of his little prince, for he blinks and the light has changed. Now the shadows of the night spill in through the massive windows, thin blue fingers reaching across the floor to touch the base of the coffee table, the chairs, the kitchen island. Has he fallen asleep? Has Roman? Is it still the same day? The familiar bite of the pain has yet to resurface so it can't have been that long—except, of course, if they were lying and they did put him on the good stuff.

It suddenly occurs to him that there is a word for this feeling. When you wake in the night to realize that you needn't move yet, or when you stir from a place only to shift slightly and fall back to slumber. He has a vague memory of hot nights in the middle of the summer where he couldn't fall asleep even with the slightest sheet, only for the heat to break around the wee hours of the morning. He would rouse just long enough to pull over a sheet and then he would sleep again, safe under the gentle chill of the darkness. There is a word for that, isn't there? That precious feeling that can only truly be felt in its moment, lost to the ephemeral grace of memory?

Is he there now? Slipping in between moments as ripples move through water?

But no, there shifts Roman underneath him like a gentle current guiding him back to the world of the waking, and he turns just slightly to see a soft smile on that sweet face.

"Hey," Roman says softly, "how are you doing?"

"'M good."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," Janus murmurs, his eyes already slipping shut again, "thank you, little prince."

"Of course," he hears distantly as he falls back into the waiting arms of the darkness, "you're safe now."

Ah, he thinks, that's the word.

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[wolfsbaneandotherfunactivities]

Excerpt from Tes Of Asunder (unfinished Chapter Titled Drunk Idiots, posted for @kaylinalexanderbooks )

Welp, the ship is ashore for a bit. Everyone is on shore, doing whatever they will. Only two remain, and both believe that they are the only ones aboard Asunder. 

Aj went to the bar for a quiet evening alone. They walked into the bar on the ship and grabbed a bottle before sinking into a stool behind the bar. They planned to simply stay there, drink, and cry for a decent portion of the evening since they knew that the crew wouldn’t be back until at least early morning. Then no one would have to deal with them drunk. They were pouring their first drink when they saw Liv had walked in.

Liv pays them no attention as she sinks into a stool with her head in her hands, barely holding back a scream. “Bad night?” They asked, passing the drink to her. They got themself something sober. They knew better then to drink around their crew, especially the crew that’d never seen drunk.

"I should have let Naan kill him." She looks at the drink and gives it back. "Sorry I need something red tonight."

They nod and pour her a glass of wine, moving that cup to the side, hoping to get to it after she leaves. “Zayn again?”

"Who else?" She picks up the glass but doesn't drink at first.

“Figured, what this time?” they swished their drink.

"He's been in my cabin recently…. Like a lot, and it's been awkward in the morning sometimes, so I told him to just keep some of his clothes up there. Make it easier for everybody, you know? Well, he hung his uniform in there. His uniform."

“Seriously? That’s awful, why are men so stupid,” They really weren’t super familiar with everything going on, they were only partly kept in the loop but what they did know is that that wasn’t exactly a good thing. 

"I don't know. I think he just wasn't thinking, I mean… He can't really get rid of it, but he needs somewhere to keep it, but that's the only thing up there, and he went ashore and I don't know if he's coming back." She'd been casually sipping at the wine, but now she downed the rest of the cup and set it on the counter.

“I mean, did he take anything with him?” They grabbed the bottle and poured her another glass before setting the bottle on the bar, knowing that it was quite likely to go empty before night’d end.

"I didn't go through his stuff. I feel like that would make it worse. I mean… I'm supposed to trust him, right? Can I trust him?"

“Not for a moment, men are stupid, trust me, I was one before I was a god, zero brain cells, never know when they’ve found a decent person to be with, least the ones I have met didn't,”

"I used to think he was different… I don't know anymore. What if I was wrong?" 

“If you are  wrong we just gotta wait till we’re ‘bout a day from shore, he’ll make real good friends with sharks real fast,”

"What? No- no, I don't mean that at all-" She sighed and took a drink, just looking and feeling miserable. "He was different. I just don't know if he still is."

“I can get that….He talks about you sometimes….he does care, even if he’s stupid,” they took a sip of their own drink finally before setting it down and messing with the rim. 

"He always did… He gave up everything for me, you know." She wiped a tear from her eye and took another sip, but mostly she was just staring at the liquid.

They smiled a little and looked up at her “Then I doubt he’s runnin’ off now just since things are rough,”

"Or he just hates me now. I think… I think I might hate me now if I were him."

“Hey, hey, no assuming people hate you after the first drink, never goes well,”

She laughed a bit. "Less an assumption… More a fear, and a lot older than just the first drink. I just can't figure out what I did wrong…"

“Could have been nothing, do you do that bit where you always assume everyone hates you if they show the slightest sign of maybe wanting to take a break?”

She blinked a few times and shrugged. "I don't know. I've never really thought about it before."

“I do that…. You’re only tipsy, yeah?”

She nodded. "That doesn't sound like it'd be particularly fun." She poured herself a third glass, for the moment… Just so she could stare at the color.

“Wouldn’t at all,” they sighed and looked over at the rum before looking back at her. 

"You had a rough day too, I take it?" She watched them carefully, hoping to get her mind off of things.

They nodded a little. “Yeah, but, it happens,”

"Often?" She muttered, almost hoping they wouldn't hear. 

They smiled a little “I’m alright, promise,” they tapped their glass on the bar “Just, a little messed up some of the time, same as anyone,”

"Yeah," she said. "Anyone…" then she laughed a little. "Sometimes I wonder how much I overthink."

“Me too……S’pose that’s enough of that, should we switch to a lighter topic ‘fore the bad thoughts cause a storm?”

"If you've got one to offer."

“None I think you’d enjoy too much,” they sighed.

"To misery, then." She raised her glass in a clumsy gesture of a toast. "May we wake to find our friends don't hate us."

“Amen to that,” they clinked their glass, “you mind me locking the door?”

She shrugged. "No, I suppose not."

They went and locked it, mostly making sure that no one got in. They had caught on that Liv may not be appreciative if anyone else in the crew saw her in this state. “So, what’s the plan now?”

"Drink away my sorrows and pray nobody else can walk through walls?"

“Good plan,” they nod thinking about it a little “Was my plan too in all honesty, but, well, someone can walk through walls,”

"I'm not a ghost, I swear. Captain Nychos thought I was at first… I'd rather not a repeat of that."

“Nychos?” They sat back across from her and took a sip of the drink they still hadn’t finished. “This is a story I don’t think I’ve heard yet,”

"I don't say his name often… He was Asunder's captain before Siren. He's dead now. She ate him."

“Good for her,” he smiled a little “Not too fond of human myself in all honestly, something about it, just don’t taste right,”

"I don't think I've ever tasted it. Nychos deserved to die, though."

“I’ll trust you on that, never seen you have bad judgment on it before,” they looked her over, trying to figure out if she was going to try to run off or something. 

She sighed. "I've made my fair share of mistakes. That's not one of them." She thought about saying more, but she just rubbed her leg and took another sip.

“And I’ll believe you,” they chose not to ask about the leg. “Tell me, do you regret becoming a pirate at all? Many people I’ve met in my time have, but I don’t take you for the sort,”

"I don't know. I don't think so. I regret it less than my other life choices."

“Good enough… best decision I ever made,”

She lifted her glass. "Cheers to that."

They clinked their glass again and smiled before taking the last swig and grabbing the rum glass “Being a god isn’t as great as they tell you you know,”

"I don't doubt it. It's hard enough being a first lieutenant."

“I’d imagine…people only ask me for help when no one else is available…that’s why I am always late coming ashore…people will pray to any god that’ll listen….so, so many don’t listen,”

She twirled her glass to watch the liquid move. "I don't doubt it. If Gods are anything like people, you can get about one in one hundred to listen to a damned word you say, and that one will deliberately choose to ignore you nine times out of ten."

“Exactly, and considering we are people, many do just that…..you know it isn’t a coincidence I ended up here during a storm,” they took a sip of their drink. 

"I suppose I never thought about it."

They nodded “I am not quite sure who, or how, but someone asked for any god who would listen, you all got lucky and got the most useless of them,” They downed the rest of their glass.

Liv flinched a bit. The only other person she knew to use that particular phrasing was Zayn. "I don't think I'd say that much. You might not be god of the weather, but you might notice… He didn't answer."

“You’re right, but I’m not exactly what you’d call useful,” they poured another glass “ I make ducks, wooptidoo, what else? Why do you think I took on so much work on the ship? Have to be of use to someone,”

She flinched again. She didn't know why. Some things were just better left unsaid. "I don't think… That kind of thinking. It doesn't work. I'm a pixie who couldn't even fly for over a decade, but…" Her mind was slow and words weren't coming clearly. She knew what she was trying to say, she thought, but getting it out was harder. "But I think there's more to people than that."

They nodded a little and thought as they drank “But still…..you’re… you’re more of a person than I…”

"No. If Gods don't count, Fae don't count."

“You haven’t seen what we go through to get here….I’m not even alive,” they set their drink down and elbows to the table.

She pulled out a small knife and stabbed it through their hand, licking the blood off when she pulled it off. "When I was in the academy for the Guard, we were taught that if it still bleeds, it's still alive. By Fae definitions, you're still alive, and I find we're difficult to argue with."

They grabbed their hand “That is the worst possible test!” they took a cloth from under the bar and held both ends of the would “Ow, ow, ow, ow, you do realize this isn’t going to heal right, right?” they were trying to stop the bleeding and not say ‘ow’ more.

She grimaced a little, realizing that was a lot of blood. "I should go find a doctor." She stood up, kind of clumsily as she started stumbling toward the door.

They put a giant duck in front of it “I’ve got it Liv, It will heal,” they took the cloth off and grimiced even before pouring some of the rum onto it.

Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the duck, and all thoughts of finding a doctor left her mind. If she heard what they said, it wouldn't have mattered, but she hadn't… Exactly. "Oh my god," she said, squeezing the duck's neck. "Oh my god, it's so big. It's so big. Aj, have you seen this? It's so big-"

They are a little distracted bleeding and all. They summoned another plush duck, this one made to look like it was injured. They took the wrap from it and used it on their hand, velcrowing it on. 

"Aj, Aj- Do you think you can make a snake? I love snakes. They're so long and they just wiggle around- And their bellies are soft. They're just soft, and so long. Long wiggly babies- Siren won't let me have a snake on the ship. She says it gets too cold, but I could make it a sweater." By now, she's crying about it.

“People who stab me don’t get snakes!” also, they can’t make a snake. They can however have no clue how to deal with a stab wound  that is bleeding on things

“No,” she said. "No, I didn't mean to- I didn't, I swear- I just wanted to help-"

“Okay well still, stabby people don’t get snakes!’ they grabbed a new cloth with their non-bleeding hand. 

"Snakes are so cute tho, they're just these skinny squirmy babies, wiggling around on their bellies- So soft little bellies-"

They shove the first cloth into the wound and use the clean one to put pressure “Do. Not. Snake,”

Her eyes lit up and she excitedly tried to climb to her feet, only to fall back into the duck. “I can snake? Oh oh oh- What if it was wearing a little sweater- With a lizard on it-”

“No! Bad! No Snake! Snake Bad! I’ll bleed on it!”

“It might taste good to a snake-” She waved her hands enthusiastically to try and imitate a snake eating something.

“Liv…..Liv what is that?”

She looked at what they were pointing at, or tried to, at least, thinking she saw a sweatered reptile wriggling across the floor. “Oh my god- snake-” she tried to follow after it but her legs wouldn’t carry her and she ended up kind of crawling, kind of just crying in a heap on the floor, where she cried herself to sleep.

“Liv, Liv you nightmare from hell don’t you dare leave me alone with this kid! I don’t know what to do with it!” they tied off their bandage and looked at the snake “.......Do you want, like……….to play scratch? Or like, a beer or something?”

The snake seems curious. It sits up a little and sticks out its tongue. There’s a lizard on its sweater. AJ picked up the snake and held it kind of like a baby. “Hello there,”

Somebody knocked on the door. “Is everything alright in there? I thought I heard…” Zayn forced the door open despite the duck, and the lock, and stood there blinking. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“So, uh, I have a son now…..like, by blood……Liv might be the mother…….How do we want custody to work?”

Zayn blinked for a few moments and glanced at Liv on the floor, then the bottle on the counter. “I- How much did you let her drink?”

“Not that much,” They chose to ignore the bottles. The snake looked at Zyan and started to make its way to the counter, exploring the world. 

“Are you… Sure about that? Aj… How much?”

“Like, maybe three glasses? Maximum four. She stabbed me by the way, and now there’s a son and I don’t think it helps that I’m on my second, and-” They sat on the stool and rubbed between their eyes “I don’t know how to be a parent!”

“Relax,” h e gently picked up the snake and let it curl around his arm, glancing back at Liv. “It’s a snake, it’s a reptile. It’s not like an actual child we can royally screw up or anything.” He glanced back at Liv, knowing he should probably get her to bed instead of letting her stay in the middle of the floor but not having the energy to deal with that.

AJ is crying now. “This wasn’t supposed to happen” The snake smelled the drink on the counter and sneezed “Bless you,” the snake suddenly had a little yellow hat with an orange bill. It looked at Zyan and tilted its head. It was confused about everything.

Zayn sighed. He didn’t really know how to deal with this, either. “Just… Please, Aj, explain how we got from the stabbing to a magical snake.” 

“Liv was a god for a second there,” They wiped their tears and adjusted theirs son’s hat. They wanted him to stay warm.

Zayn blinked and stared at the unconscious woman. “I think I’m going to have to ask when you’ve both had time to sober up. It’s only going to take her, what…. A day?”

“.............Maybe more? I don’t know what’s in her system. Whatever is in mine I’d think,” Oh great, the tears are back.

“Okay, fine, we’ll deal with that later. Let’s just- Deal with the stabbing, alright?”

“Right, I’m bleeding, I forgot about that… ow, ow, ow, pain set in again, help,” they grabbed their bleeding hand again. Blood had leaked onto pretty much everything they’d touched in the last few minutes. 

“That’s- Uh- Not good. And Doc’s out still, I bet- Damnit, Octavia-” He took a breath and shook his head. “I don’t know… Did you try licking it?”

“That’s how we got the Baby! He doesn’t even have a name yet, my poor son,”

“Right, right… I don’t know, I’m not a doctor… And nobody knows where Captain went, so this- This… could be a long night.”

“I mean do you think licking it would actually help? Like, would it hurt it more? I don’t know what to do about this! No one teaches gods what to do if they’re stabbed! Just to not let people drink your blood but we see how that’s going!

[mashithamel]

Episode 3 spoilery thoughts below (lots of spoilers for the books).

I really love how, even though the show is so changed from the book in many ways, it also feels so true to the books.

- I am really looking forward to the soundtrack release. Amazon will take all my money.

- I didn’t mind “be steadfast” not being included? I noted it, but didn’t really care?

- Nynaeve’s parents!

- Crinsomthorn again, huh. Gonna be a repeated motif this year?

- This has shades of Aginor and is a horribe touch (affectionate)

- Elnore is awesome! As I would expect!

- How on earth would she manage to memorize that long Old Tongue passage after hearing it once?

- Elnore watching her daughter as she is brutally stabbed to death is really overkill. My sister is invested in watching now but can’t handle, like, any violence, so I have to tell her when to turn away. I’m going to have to mute this bit—even I have a hard time with it, and I’ve enjoyed GoT and a couple seasons of Vikings.

- I kind of like how shocking the water dumped over her head is everytime they use it. It seems as much a violantion as the arches themselves. And “washed clean” just seems like wishful thinking.

- Tam!

- Nice to see Natti sober. She’s speaking all of Nynaeve’s worst fears right now.

- I forgot Nynaeve had seen Healing and that it’s been established she can copy any weave after seeing it once. Of course, she isn’t upset enough right now to channel, but it was also spelled out she wouldn’t be able to channel anyway in the arches. I am so ready to see Nynaeve the Healer.

- “How is Rand?” Knife straight to the heart. Invited to stay with Tam until he dies. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see your face.” Wisdom Nynaeve was pretty cool too.

- The fact that she sees the arches as a means to get her people a cure—she isn’t choosing the Tower over them, just what they can do. But Tam calling after her to not leave is even more poignant than Marin in the books, imo.

- Zoe going into the third arch 😭

- This is very a very trippy scene. Rosamund says they are filming something really psychadelic for S3. That’s gotta be Snakes and Foxes, right?

- The lines from Lan here are my absolute favorite from that passage. The “I will hate the man you choose…” is fine. But telling someone she’s as beautiful as a sunrise, as fierce as a warrior? I am fully swooning.

- Red is just not Nynaeve’s color, I think. (Zoe can rock anything, but Nynaeve is not going to wear much red ever)

- Just how empty “you are washed clean of your sins” sounds. “It’s alright, the blood isn’t yours” is not exactly what she needed to hear. It’s properly horrifying.

- A bloody hadori

- I don’t blame her for walking out at this point, and I would have been disappointed if she hadn’t.

- “You’re going to be a woman who’s actually worthy of that title.” Not a fan of book Egwene (actually, she’s my least favorite character—the fact that we share many traits in common has nothing to do with it, I’m sure!), but I look forward to seeing show Egwene come into her own.

- How hard must it be for her to return to the Two Rivers, without any of the kids, and no ability to use Healing?

- I love that Daniel likes filming Lanaeve as much as i enjoy watching this.

- I’ve watched this scene obsessively through gifs as soon as they were available

- “I could come with you.” Taken right from TSR, with the response we’d all like to see in an AU

- They way he holds her, and she just relaxes into him, and he rests his cheek on her head. Swooning some more.

- The pitchers are white, black, and swirl

- See, Darkfriends aren’t entirely evil. They feel bad about things too.

- Aww, Liandrin is legitimately upset. I think she sees a lot of herself in Nynaeve and wanted a mentee.

- They named the girl who gets dragged away by the Seanchan. So we’ll see her in the future?

- The Southern accent is amazingly good. Also some of the soliders have baseball bats as weapons. Will they do anything else to drive home the colonizing invaders are American?

- I wonder who this Seanchan guard is who selects Uno? Egeanin, maybe? I mean, they didn’t have to show her face. Maybe she is a named character?

- UNO!!!!!!!!!!

- The side shot of Uno impaled is deeply disturbing. They split the skin from his lips almost to his ear, and both his mandible and maxilla are fractures. It’s accurate, but holy cow that’s intense.

- I didn’t remember Logain had the Talent to see ta’veren, so it doesn’t bother me at all that he can tell men can channel. Quite frankly, it’s a good excuse for him to be out of the Black Tower later, recruiting.

- Again, I like Rand seeking out help wherever he can find it (Errol with the sword, Logain with the OP). I mean, what else is he going to do?

- Gleeman in a cloak! Branding! Hunt for the Horn!

- Lanfear is remakably up to date on the local lore for someone who was asleep for the last 3000 years. Does Ishy have a crash seminar for them on waking?

- “Your grief is your own.” Too bad the only psychiatrist in the series is evil.

- “Someone I respected.” Liandrin does feel guilty.

- I look forward to Mat rising up and proving Liandrin wrong about every word.

- “It’s not always the most powerful women who write history, it’s the ones who survive.” Ooo, chills. This show is actually going to make me care about Egwene isn’t it?

- The Cairheinin party! I love they included this, and the invitations, and him burning it! And, of course, the red coat.

- This hunt for the horn lie is a great way to showcasse just how horrible upper Cairheinin society is. “One less poor mouth for the rich to feed.” I remember the Tairan Lords are terrible toward poor people, but geez, these guys too!

- Naturally, Selene finds this plot amusing. At what point do you think he’ll catch on that she’s evil?

- Asmodean is going to teach Rand, that’s my prediction. But that doesn’t mean Rand has nothing to learn from Logain. He’s willing to learn from anyone who can teach him, no matter how unconventional.

- Ishy kept trying to get the boys to drink in TAR, right? Is this referrencing that?

- Ishamael making Perrin afraid of the wolf side is genius. A much better reason to be reluctant than in the books. “The more wolf you are the more you’re mine.” Chills.

- Hopper!

- I don’t have a problem with Min being made to work for Liandrin. She’s clearly reluctant. She also has no reason to care about Mat, really, and at least show Min comes across as someone who does what she needs to do to survive. I assume the EF5/Rand will eventually show her something worth staying and fighting for.

- Oh, she is crazy crazy.

- I like how they show the taint on the male weaves.

- And the inn gets set on fire too. They did read the books! Guess that’s the end of the red coat, huh?

- I am in love with Elayne. Seriously, how did that happen??

- I note Nynaeve is wearing mostly blue and green. Lan’s favorite colors on women.

- Fancy Mat and happy Perrin!

- Also nice that it seems Lan may do most of the cooking? Wise choice.

- That hair is…um…a look.

- Mat’s left eye!

- I love that Nynaeve saves herself.

- What more can be said about that ending? Definitely more devastating than in the books. Zoe is amazing. All excellent changes to make sense with the show story/character and move her along, give her the “why” she needs to be at the Tower. Amazing and such great storytelling.

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

The 90s Song Ever - Round 1 Results

Hello y'all it's me again!! We have collectively suffered through the first month of this tournament, slicing the 256-song bracket clean in half and experiencing tremendous pain. Unfortunately it is late now and I'm sleepy, so the anticipated start of Round 2 is postponed til tomorrow - keep your eyes peeled for polls! Until then... good night.

Expand to see the results of Round 1! Songs in green will be moving onto the next stage, songs in red have been banished to the shadow realm.

Side A1

Midlife Crisis vs When You Sleep Emotions vs Barbie Girl Sugar Kane vs Firestarter More Than Words vs Born Slippy Sabotage vs Wonderwall November Rain vs I Want It That Way Losing My Religion vs Kiss Of Life Stratford-On-Guy vs Grace, Too Shitlist vs Freak On A Leash Blue (Da Ba Dee) vs Doll Parts Peaches vs Bulls On Parade All Star vs Flagpole Sitta Push It vs The Distance I Could Fall In Love vs Blue Monday Two Princes vs Bitch End of the Road vs The Private Psychedelic Reel Sour Times vs Sober 1979 vs Constant Craving Now That We Found Love vs Sunburn Loverman vs Wakko's America Around The World vs Lightning Crashes Believe vs Nothing Compares 2 U Pepper vs Windowlicker Fly vs Law & Order Theme Black Hole Sun vs Sex and Candy Animal Nitrate vs Unfinished Sympathy No Rain vs The Rain Free Your Mind vs My Heart Will Go On Du Hast vs The X-Files Theme C'est la Vie vs Fear Of The Dark Supersonic vs Deceptacon Running in the 90s vs The Tourist

Side A2

Beetlebum vs Are You That Somebody Sway vs River Of Deceit Hunger Strike vs Who Will Save Your Soul? Generator vs Bills, Bills, Bills Doo Wop (That Thing) vs Finally Tearin' Up My Heart vs Silence Kid Enter Sandman vs Everybody (Backstreet's Back) Boombastic vs I'll Be There For You Yakko's World vs To Be With You Cotton Eye Joe vs Amish Paradise Nuthin' But A "G" Thang vs Basket Case Dagger vs Seven Rebel Girl vs Groove is in the Heart Baby Got Back vs Hallelujah Only Happy When It Rains vs Say You'll Be There U Can't Touch This vs How Bizarre Nancy Boy vs Cornflake Girl Affirmation vs Don't Walk Away The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air vs The Boy Is Mine Scatman (Ski-Ba-Bop-Ba-Dop-Dop) vs Juicy Buddy Holly vs Closing Time Pony vs Wynona's Big Brown Beaver Pretend We're Dead vs All I Wanna Do Santeria vs Send Me On My Way Birdhouse In Your Soul vs That Don't Impress Me Much Vogue vs Brain Stew/Jaded Kiss Me vs These Are Days MMMBop vs Black Genie In A Bottle vs Bullet With Butterfly Wings Tank! (Cowboy Bebop opening theme) vs Smells Like Nirvana Mind Playing Tricks On Me vs (Everything I Do) I Do It For You Friday I'm In Love vs Would?

Side B1

Everlong vs Only Wanna Be With You California Love vs Fall At Your Feet Glory Box vs Man In The Box Livin' la Vida Loca vs Are You Gonna Go My Way What's Up vs If Only Personal Jesus vs Everybody Hurts The World I Know vs Glycerine Semi-Charmed Life vs You Get What You Give I'm Too Sexy vs Amor Prohibido Rhythm Of The Night vs Heaven or Las Vegas Heart Shaped Box vs In the Aeroplane over the Sea Everything Must Go vs Insane in the Brain Tornado of Souls vs Rabbit in Your Headlights My Own Summer (Shove It) vs Ice Ice Baby Californication vs Crush On You Clown vs No Scrubs Bitter Sweet Symphony vs Say My Name Waterfalls vs Cowboys from Hell Army of Me vs Tomorrow Adam's Song vs Self Esteem Under The Bridge vs None Of Your Business No More Tears vs Roll The Bones Black Or White vs Pure Morning Stay (I Missed You) vs Lump Girls and Boys vs De Música Ligera Waking Up vs Be Aggressive Can I Kick It? vs You Oughta Know Canned Heat vs Your Woman Cannonball vs Always Be My Baby Painkiller vs Even Flow Goldeneye vs Tubthumping Steal My Sunshine vs I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)

Side B2

Closer vs Sorted For E's and Wizz Bring It All Back vs Loser Wannabe vs Jesus Christ Pose Kiss From A Rose vs Nothing Else Matters Killing in the Name vs That's The Way Love Goes Pokemon Theme (Gotta Catch 'Em All) vs Ordinary World Song of Storms vs Estoy Aquí The World Is Not Enough vs I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone Criminal vs Real Love Enjoy the Silence vs Plush This Is Halloween vs Spooky Scary Skeletons Fade Into You vs I Will Always Love You Istanbul (Not Constantinople) vs Iris Been Caught Stealing vs Virtual Insanity I Wish vs No Diggity Torn vs Common People Gangsta's Paradise vs Detachable Penis What Is Love vs The Sign Linger vs Ironic Venus as a Boy vs Lover, You Should've Come Over 100% Pure Love vs Macarena (Bayside Boys remix) Violet vs Sugar Spongebob Squarepants Theme vs ...Baby One More Time Loaded vs Creep The Kids Aren't Alright vs One In A Million Right Here, Right Now vs Bruise Violet Killing Me Softly With His Song vs Lovefool Jump Around vs Jump Don't Speak vs Spit It Out Intergalactic vs Dreams Say It Ain't So vs Smells Like Teen Spirit Poison vs Rid of Me

[edgessunflower]

Addiction/Recovery prompts

Divider credits to @saradika-graphics

"The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one"

"Being sober delivered almost everything drinking promised"

"Strength is what we gain from the madness we survive"

"I was filling a void with the numbing effect of getting high until it consumed me"

"You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step"

"Without my mistakes, this version of me wouldn't be possible"

"Be stronger than your excuse"

"Recovery is a marathon, not a sprint"

"You either quit or keep going, they both hurt"

"Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars, you have to let go at some point in order to move forward"

"Do not give up, the beginning is always the hardest"

"Taking a step into the unknown is better than staying comfortable and never experiencing real growth or change"

"Heal within then shine out, every scar tells a story"

"You never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have"

"I know one day the truth will be louder than the lies, I'm fighting for that day"

"Alcohol and love don't mix, you either drop the alcohol for what you love or drop what you love for alcohol"

"What I feared most is eventually what saved me"

"The only way out is through"

"I did not know the weight of addiction until I felt the freedom of recovery"

"Recovery is a nonstop daily battle"

"Stop looking for ways to sabotage your life"

"Once you promise yourself that you deserve better, you will never look back"

"I wanna live, not just survive"

"Relapse does not erase your success"

"Healing doesn't mean the damage never existed, it means the damage no longer controls our lives"

"There's someone out there who needs to hear your story from you"

"When we recover loudly, we keep others from dying quietly"

"Your job isn't to save them, your job is to set the example and show them how you saved yourself"

"Destroy what destroys you"

"My life is proof that there is hope after dope"

"It's your road and yours alone, others may walk it with you but no one can walk it for you"

"When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person that walked in, that's what the storm is all about"

"Sometimes you have to lose all you have to find out who you truly are"

"Be proud of who you are and not ashamed of who you were"

"Addiction is a family disease, one person may use but the whole family suffers"

"I forgive you but I gotta see you change to believe it"

"The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are"

"You are not too broken to be healed"

"One day, you will tell your story of how you've overcome what you're going through now, and it will become someone else's survival guide"

"Sobriety is never owned, it's rented and rent is due every day"

"Addiction is giving up everything for one thing while recovery is giving up one thing for everything"

"The attempt to escape from pain is what creates more pain"

"I don't want you to save me, I want you to stand by my side as I save myself"

"We have a disease that tells us we don't have a disease"

"The drugs and alcohol will never love you but those kids waiting for you to get sober will!"

"You cannot heal in the same environment where you got sick"

"We don't choose to become addicted, we choose to deny our pain"

"The drugs are your band aid, but tell us about your bullet hole"

"I'm not telling you it is going to be easy, I'm telling you it's going to be worth it"

"You have to have been through it in order to understand it"

[wandaluvstacos]

THE ONLY SECONDS THAT MATTER

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE IS UP!

Genre: Contemporary Romance Rating: 18+

Includes: Extensive horse nerdery + cowboys, mxm romance (1 trans + 1 cis), some discussion child abuse, some instances of trans/homophobia (it is rural Oklahoma, y'all), depression, occasional sex scene (but it’s a slow burn for sure)

Victor Ortiz-Bennett had some reservations about moving to Oklahoma, but his late aunt willed him a 70-acre horse farm, and he decides to fulfill his dream of running and operating his own training facility. Victor’s been around the reining horse show circuit for a while, and he’s ready to settle down, travel less, and spend more time with the horses he loves and away from the people he can do without. That is, until he picks up a horse at an auction with a bucking problem he can’t fix, and he has to take her to the one guy who can ride anything– Johnny Stearns, a retired professional rodeo rider.

Johnny Stearns is loud, chatty, eccentric, and fears nothing, exactly Victor’s opposite. However, Victor finds himself sinking into an odd friendship with this new foul-mouthed cowboy without a filter, diving deeper into the mess that is Johnny’s life until there’s no way to extract himself from it. Johnny may talk a tough game, but there’s more to him than he’ll let most people see. Victor knows getting in too deep will mean a rough ride, but if there’s anything Johnny’s taught him, it’s how to stay in the saddle.

Excerpt:

“I still gotta live in this goddamn house.” Johnny glanced around the living room with wild eyes. “This house where my dad beat me in every room but the one I currently sleep in.” His voice broke toward the end and he took a moment to compose himself, swiping a hand under his nose. “I think he’s the devil inside me. The only way I keep him quiet is by drinkin’.”

“Your father was an abusive asshole. Sell the house and live the life he would have hated. Make him spin in his damn grave.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“Is this easier?” Victor snapped. “Is losing yourself in booze and trash while the people you love abandon you easy?”

“Of course it’s not! But fuck, it’s all I know. I know how to survive with barely nothin’ and that’s it. You wouldn’t get it. You grew up with money and parents who loved you.”

“I don’t have to understand this to be against it. I—I care about you, Johnny. More than I should. More you than you deserve, maybe. I don’t want anyone I care about to live like this, and I don’t want to see them the way I saw you last night.”

Johnny shrunk backward, slightly hunched. “I don’t deserve that consideration. I know that. I’m a real piece of shit sometimes.”

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for yourself. I want you to feel like you deserve better. Better than Daisy, better than being cheated on. I want you try to be someone who doesn’t just—” Victor considered his words, but pushed ahead anyway “—someone who doesn’t break my damn heart all the time.”

Johnny’s face twisted with hurt before he looked away, then down at his feet. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, but for once he had nothing to say.

“You’re the most frustrating person I’ve ever met,” Victor continued, “so if I didn’t care about you, I would have been gone months ago. Even with your flaws, you’ve got a big heart that’s always in the right place, and that’s not an easy find. I mean Christ, my own mother had a worse reaction to me coming out than you did. I didn’t talk to her for months.”

“Vic, I…” Johnny began, then trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know I talk a lot but I ain’t very good at talkin’ ‘bout my feelin’s and all that… so maybe I won’t say this right, but half the reason I tried as hard as I did to get sober is cuz your reaction to the state of my house felt like a real kick in the nuts. I didn’t want Sarah or my sister knowin’, but to be honest, I’d already disappointed them both a thousand times over. But you still held me in high regard, and I hated that I fucked that up. I hated that you had to see my life for what it was. This feels like that again, ‘cept now I’m worried you’ll leave me once and for all and I’ll have no one. I want to fight, but most of my fightin’ spirit’s gone.”

“I don’t want you to fight. That’s your dad talking. Not everything has to be a damn fight. I want you to give up, actually. I want you to stop being so damn proud because it’s killing you. You’re trying to be this person you aren’t.”