#i feel like ium going to THROW UP

[eebie]

if u make this shit like this you're actually SICK in the HEAD and you make me want to THROW UP

[sunb0ts]

I feel like apollo justices worse actively unwell adhd infested clone grown in a lab in a tube. ium so excited I'm go;nna throw up. PLEASe let me accuse this woman

[the-firebird69]

If you want things for happening this seems to be a lot of disconnects I'm trying to get my our son stuff Mac has been a lot of it doing a lot of it and he says it's not getting any help and matter of fact it said today is throwing some of the bus then he said oh it's you and it's Mike too and they are taking a lot of their stuff and they need it and it is working and Mac is feeling better and Mike was forcing it so okay not very pleasant they're having a real problem though and there are several other things happening John remillard and company are up schitt's creek and they're going up for real very soon they are going to get in trouble with law enforcement and it will be a very big deal they are going to experience what it's like to be arrested but for real this time me I'm not going to have a way of getting out not really all that quickly. That's what they're saying here horrified buy it and can't stand it and some people are shutting down they don't get that small but some people do but that's a child no yes possibly lily. And she saying okay she's even feels better and the crowd is not nice but it's not that bad.

-it's more going on today and it is and weird experience being here strange what they do it's trouble

-several people are mentioning spaces full of losers and they say it it's not very nice but it kind of appears that way they don't appear to be captains of industry or people that have their stuff together more people who have been through a lot and have experience and odd so

+the clones in the devastating the Eastern hemisphere and they have five bases left out of those two are active three are on fire and says it sounds familiar and it was about more luck a similar thing with the bases here are very large. I'm about 20 they have about 20 large out of those 10 are on fire they'll be put out and they'll be another fight tomorrow, and the medium are similar there are 50 left 25 or on fire and then we put out and yeah we did mention this it's all true but they're down below so they are not going to be put out and it was the morlock and it's almost the same this is not global this is the eastern hemisphere and the small there were 300 now there is 50 25 road fire soon they'll be destroyed and remaining 25 or 30%. In the Western hemisphere actually there's very small in the eastern hemisphere and there's a hundred thousand left and they're under siege every single one of them and they'll be they'll be gone shortly and smaller teams going after them so it takes a while but it's pulling stuff out and there's so many that it's like five big huge bases in the Western hemisphere there were about seven very large bases and there are now about two at the restaurant fire, they have about 20 large bases the same number coming up Tanner on fire also the same number the remain 10 or 20% and it's a little bit different, a med ium they had $300 now they have 50 same number but 20 are on fire 30 are at 30%, and they're very small there are 200,000 in the Western hemisphere. They're 100,000 left and the other 100,000 are on fire those bases are probably going to be out within the next couple days fully and all of the support and take a while for that too is support basis all over there just depots.

-another news and that's big news the max are engaging some foreigners and a lot of warlock and a lot of clones they are and they're taking actual hits it's actually very ugly. I have a lot of bases they have like 45 very large bases on Earth about 35 of them are in the desert or right on them so they don't have very many outside it but those outside are being attacked by morlock and heavily and they're going to be in a lot of trouble. And we mean the morlock they're going at it with five of them that are in the eastern hemisphere and they lost miserably and didn't make any progress at all. They also have about 700 medium at 10 to 10x20 and that's got some bunkers underneath there are 20x30x40 and there's about four or five each that's a lot because there's so many the morlock are attacking half they did manage to damage about 10 of them in the eastern hemisphere they're attacking 20 more and they'll probably damage them but they only damage them about 10 to 15% but they just started the attacks today and the clones might also begin attacking and foreigners.

They have probably 300,000 small bases at 10 by 10 or so and about half of them are engaged by multiple parties they have about 10 million small bases globally 5 million are engaged by multiple parties different parts of each base yes

Their areas of operation are fairly big they have about 50 very large globally that are 30x70 it does not just have them in it alone but they are part of the cities mostly our people have evacuated cities in the cities they're being attacked but those large areas the very large are being attacked only about half of them and mildly the large ones which are 20x10 are being attacked there are probably 300 of those and they're being attacked a viciously foreigners too and moving on and clones to medium areas of operation of the empire they are about 15x10 the larger by 20x50 not 10x10 and severe the other half shortly they're small and those they have about 500,000 they're 10x10 and half for being attacked viciously the other half of being attacked the world is at war. I'm going to introduce us to Olympus can we have a declaration he wants to announce to our people and Hera is writing up the proclamation at this time and it is that we are at war and we will get many recruits and I'm going to ask them to announce it formally it'll make a big difference.

I appreciate this and we're going to publish now

Thor Freya

This is very good work it is what it is it does say it but we are going to have a formal proclamation and decree and we're going to issue it to our public

Olympus

Thank you my husband I was listening and I did help you come up with it any thanks me and he did contact me anyways before issuing it formally these are good things

Hera

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug: Volume II | Part Three

Words: 2.4k

Warning(s): Explicit language

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NIKKI

Shit.

I look down at Vivian, wanting to hide under the sink because just the way she's looking at me makes me feel about two inches tall.

"Viv, I don't know what the hell else you want me to say other than, 'I'm sorry'." I persevere through her scalding hot glare. "I was gonna tell you about it, I swear I was."

"After I stumbled on used needles again, or...?"

Cheap shot.

"It wasn't smack. It was just a couple drinks and some blow."

"Just some blow." She repeats, and I'm pinching the bridge of my nose, struggling with the idea of going back and forth about this. "When was this?"

"Last weekend."

"What happened?"

"Tommy and I thought we could have a beer and that escalated pretty quick." I admit, leaving out the part where Duff and Slash were right there with us.

"You know you can't have a drink, Nikki, you're never good on just a single drink."

"I know, Vivian, I know."

"Then why the hell did you think — "

" — I wasn't thinking." I cut her short. "And I'm sorry because you're right. I knew better. And it won't happen again, alright?"

"If it happens again I'm gone, do you understand me? I'm not putting up with what I've put up with."

It's a fair statement, one that I nod in agreement with, but of course in her Vivian Sixx fashion, she's got to add a line that turns this from a settled understanding, to the opening shots of WWIII.

"Especially since you've got little eyes on you now."

I think back to how I would handle this if it were 3 years ago.

I'd feed into whatever argument she was fishing to start, we'd scream and curse one another out, I maybe get swung on or slapped if I said something fucked up enough, and then we'd make up in a frenzy of debauched fucking almost as violent as our fighting, and leave it there.

But seeing her bitchy little attitude now doesn't turn me on like it used to — no matter how attractive she is — it just outright makes me mad, and the urge to just walk out of the bathroom is nearly pulling me to open the door and run.

I can say what I know will start an ugly argument, or I can let it go.

My jaw clenches and I decide I'm not letting this go because it's bull shit.

"You do, too, Viv, let's not act like you're not going around swinging fists." I remind her, defensively.

"The asshole deserved it." She argues. "Quit trying to deflect."

"I'm not deflecting shit. I'm simply telling you that I'm not the only one your son's looking at...though with his mom beating the shit out of anyone who looks at her the wrong way and his dad throwing back beers like water — "

" — You have absolutely no room to make any smart ass remarks about Duff or anything he does." She's pushing away from me, bracing herself on the bathroom counter.

I'm almost ashamed at how roughly her coming to Duff's defense so quickly stabs at my nerves and security like a switchblade.

"So when he does it, it's okay, right?" I hiss out, bitterly.

"He hasn't fucked my life up, Nikki."

Again, I can't necessarily argue with that, though he's not exactly blameless...

"No, you're just labeled a slut by everybody because you made a baby all by yourself."

She turns to look at me with that pissed off expression she makes, her green eyes narrowing.

"That's it?" She asks me, furrowing her brows. "You think it's all his fault?"

"I didn't say that."

"You don't have to. You think what you want about him, but none of this would have happened had you not made our marriage a fucking nightmare to be in — which is why I'm having a hard time comprehending why the hell you'd possibly risk that again by relapsing."

"Right, like I forced you to fuck someone else and get knocked up." I can't help but laugh humorlessly.

"God, I'm an idiot for ever thinking you could grow up."

"I can't grow up?" I raise my voice but try to keep my tone low enough that the rest of our friends can't hear me. "We were having a conversation about what happened and then you just said something you knew would stir the pot."

"I did n — "

" — You know what, Viv, no, you shouldn't come with us. I'd be at a higher risk of just jumping off the fucking wagon to drown out the noise of you — "

" — Of course it's still my fault when you get fucked up because you're so miserable being married to me, right? And that's why you stormed out the layers' office when we went to sign."

"Fuck you, Vivian."

"No, fuck you, Nikki, you — "

" — You always do this shit to me, I try to be better and you just drag me down back to your low fucking level because you're miserable and want everyone around you to be miserable, too."

"I am not miserable. Matter of fact, I'm the happiest I've ever been in a very long time, Nikki. At least I was until about ten minutes ago."

"Something else to add to the list of my fuckups you love to bring up when you're pissing vinegar in my direction." I snap.

"You relapsed and hid it from me! How do you expect me to react?! Why wouldn't you tell me sooner, I wouldn't have been pissed off if you would've told me!" She throws her hands up.

"I don't believe that, Viv, I really don — "

" — Well, I don't believe you're sorry you relapsed, you're just pissy that you got caught and next thing you know you'll be cracked or smacked out shooting me again or choking me ou — "

" — I don't even know why I'm still trying to talk to you about this when I know all this is, is just fucked up foreplay to you!" I shout, rubbing my eyes, leaning against the door.

She's generous enough to let me have my moment of silence before slowly, quietly, firing off, "what the hell is the point of foreplay..."  She takes in a breath and outright yells, "...when we aren't even having sex, Nikki, that doesn't even make sense!"

I can see the first sentence of the diary entry I'm absolutely ranting in when I get back home:

"Today made me realize for the billionth time that I married Satan — at least I have something nice to look at while being verbally bludgeoned."

"You tell me, Viv, you started this whole fucking thing."  I reply, my head aching.

There's more silence between us for a couple of minutes.

"Why won't you kiss me?" She asks gently, her voice graveling from shouting.

Because you're mean as shit.

"You just told me I fucked up your life." I reply tiredly, resting my forehead against the door, feeling as if I just went a round in the ring with Mike fucking Tyson. "And now you're asking why I won't kiss you?"

"Okay, I didn't mean that when I said it. You know you didn't mess up my life." She mumbles.

I probably look like a trapped animal that just wants out of the cage.

I hear her let out a breath, getting off the counter, before she steps to me.

My back goes tense when her hand rubs over my shoulder blade through my shirt before her warm hands snake around to my abdomen, her arms wrapping around me as her cheek rests against my back.

"I actually don't like fighting with you." She says to me, honestly. "But I do wish you would've told me about it before Tommy let everybody at the table know." She adds.

"I should've told you about all of it sooner." I admit.

"I'm not upset you fell off the wagon. Everyone does every once in a while when they're trying to be sober. I'm sorry for being a bitch about it. Just don't hide it from me next time, and I won't hide things from you." She apologizes.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with an asshole today...and I know you don't just hit people when they look at you the wrong way. He probably did deserve it or you wouldn't have done it." I say to her. "And I'm sorry about dragging Duff into it."

"You know, I don't necessarily like him being crowned, 'the king of beers,' but you two are so different with that stuff, Nikki. He doesn't turn into who you turn into when he's fucked up. It's not just me being biased or picking favorites." She says next.

Another hit to my ego, but I know it's true, and I turn to face her opt to change the subject.

"I miss when we had actual fun on Valentine's Day." I say softly. "A lot of fun." My mind starts reminiscing through memories of her with tears streaking down her cheeks, her thick red hair balled in my fist as a sob of pleasure pulls from her throat.

Her face turns bright red and she's sighing out, "Nikki, stop it."

"Stop what?" I furrow my brows, pretending not to know what she's talking about.

"You know what." She takes a step back, giggling. "You're supposed to have clean thoughts." She adds. "Like a monk or something."

"Monks aren't trapped in close proximities with you." I retort.

"You're not trapped. You can leave." She argues, but her smug little smile is still on her face.

"No." I state, trying to swallow the lump in my throat as I glance at her chest that heaves with heavy breaths before my eyes trail down her long legs and back up again.

"How're you gonna look at me like that and then refuse to kiss me?" She says next, referring to me keeping my distance since December.

"Because I'm selfish and don't want blue balls that I have to take care of with my right hand and those tapes we made years ago." I bluntly put it and her face turns red again.

"I thought you threw those out when we split?"

"...Why the fuck would I? You're naked in them."

She just rolls her eyes and holds back a smile.

"I think it might be time to add another one to the collection." I add, just to see her response.

She doesn't clam up and get shy about it like I expect, instead raising her brows and saying, "I don't make pornos with men who won't even kiss me."

"That's all it's gonna take?" I raise my brows, just aching to get my hands on her.

"Depends on how good of a kiss it is." She replies.

Now I'm feeling the need to open the bathroom door and take in a deep breath of air to clear my head, my hand wrapping around the knob as I try my hardest to ignore her response, mentally clawing my way through the shallow lust that infiltrates my judgement, my pants getting tighter and uncomfortable at the sight of her green eyes that are on their knees, pleading for me to fuck her.

"We should probably get back to dinner." I say lowly with a dry throat.

"Yeah, we should." She doesn't argue, and I thank God for it.

We get back to the dinner table to see no one's left eating, just Mandy in the kitchen aggressively scrubbing dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.

"Did everyone leave already?" I hear Vivian ask her.

"Yep." She shortly mumbles in response. "Duff's outside if you need to tell him 'bye'." She adds.

"Okay. Thank you for tonight, the food was good." Viv says next.

"Thanks for coming. I'm sorry I fucked it up."

"You're a wife. It's our job." Viv sarcastically replies only for Mandy to scoff out, "apparently."

They’re quiet for a second before the blonde adds, "I'm gonna try to talk to him about maybe going to counseling. I don't want a divorce, and he doesn't either...we just need help, you know?"

Hearing her say it hits at me, remembering the trapped and helpless feeling of seeing my marriage fall apart at the seams.

Luckily for them, as far as I know, neither of them are cheating, hooked on hard drugs, or at the extent of verbal abuse Vivian and I were at when we had tried counseling the first time.

They've got a higher chance at making it than we did.

"I understand that. I can try to find the one Nikki and I used. She was really good."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"I love you, Happy Valentine's Day." My wife says next, kissing her cheek, as Mandy says, "I love you, too, Viv, Happy Valentine's Day. You guys drive safe."

"We will."

"Bye, Nikki!" She calls.

"Bye, Mandy!" I say back from the foyer.

"Can you go talk to Duff and get him to come back inside? We need to talk because I refuse to be pissed at each other tonight." She asks.

"Yeah, sure." Viv steps down the hallway. "Can you please talk to him?" She whispers to me when she gets to me.

"Me?" I whisper back, furrowing my brows.

"I don't want him to think I'm preaching to him, Nikki, you're a man. You guys think differently than we do." She explains.

"Baby..." I think about it, trailing off.

"You don't have to give a long speech or anything just a little something to get him calmed down some." She says, fumbling with the bracelets on my wrist.

Her finger tips haze my thoughts and I'm saying, "I'll see what I can do," before I can stop myself.

Her soft hand brushes against my cheek and she says, "Thank you," kissing my other cheek.

I open the door for her, seeing Duff perched on the step of the porch, drinking another beer.

He turns to look at us, an obviously wasted look on his face.

"We're about to leave, okay? I'll have Monroe in the morning so you can come by and see him anytime you want tomorrow." She says to him, crouching down to hug him.

"Okay, Viv." He says, sounding numb.

"I love you."

"I love you, too." He grasps her hand and kisses the top of it before he looks at me and points. "I'm not kissing you." He chuckles as I hand Viv the keys to my Mercedes, and she heads to crank the car.

He looks after her until she gets in the car and shuts the door.

Taking another swallow of beer, he sniffles and clears his throat, looking at me.

I’m not sure if it was the fact that I had been where he was before — to an extent, at least — or maybe I could see where he was coming from in terms of getting beat down constantly by a wife he perhaps felt he would never be good enough for — but seeing him hazey in a drunken lull to take the edge off his imploding marriage gave me a layer of empathy for him. I’d known him for nearly five years by that point, and although we weren’t the best of friends around that time (thanks to me secretly struggling with accepting that he got my wife pregnant), I still respected him for treating Viv well, and enthusiastically sticking around when Monroe came along instead of running like I probably would’ve done had I gotten one of the headlining band members’ wives pregnant.

All I knew to tell him in the moment was what I had to keep telling myself…

[wreckofawriter]

Then Kiss Me Agian

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Word Count: 4,150

Warnings: Swearing? None really

Request: Hi! Could I get a James Potter imagine ? The reader and James are acquaintances but they get assigned as partners for a project? They get close and end up liking each other? Cute and fluffy please? Thank you! I really enjoy your writing , this is my third request for you haha!

A/n: I'm so sorry this took me like a fuckung year to write. I start school on Monday so I have been majorly stressing for the past week. Anyway hope u guys like it!

You woke up to soft light drifting through your window. Your eyes slowly fluttered open to be greeted with the pleasant sight of golden rays casting though your room. Dust that had been revealed by the shine swirled majestically through the air as if dancing to the floor where they would die until being reincarnated by movement once again. 

You hummed smoothly sitting up and bringing your hand to your eye rubbing away the nights sleep as you released a wide yawn. 

You slipped out of bed, your warm feet cooling on the wooden floor as chills broke your smooth skin into bumps. You walked to the bathroom, glancing at the mirror and grimacing. 

You quickly washed your face and brushed your hair and teeth before deciding what to wear for the day. You exited the room only to notice something you hadn't before. Everyone in your dorm was gone. You thought that at least a few people would sleep in on a Saturday. 

And then it struck you. It wasn't a Saturday at all. It was Friday. Which meant that you were already 15 minutes late for your class. 

Your eyes went wide panic filling you as you swore loudly crashing to your dresser and changing into your robes. You then gathered your things in a frenzy, mentally and verbally cursing your roommates for not waking you. You were going to unleash hell when you saw them next. 

You stumbled down the stairs and out your common room door. You would simply have to skip breakfast today. You sprinted to the dungeons ignoring the protests you drew from those you passed. 

You finally reached the classroom banging open the door loudly and scrambling inside. 

"I am so sorry professor. I overslept and I-" 

You stopped when you noticed every pair of eyes in the room on you. You gulped nervously, feeling heat rush up your neck.

"It's quite alright my dear." Slughorn spoke kindly.

Your surprised eyes immediately flicked back to him, "Really?" You asked in disbelief. 

"It is your first time ever being late, I can let you off with a warning." He smiled, relief washing through you. 

"Thank you so much." You sighed gratefully. 

"Now take a seat so I may continue with the lesson." He said gesturing to the students who were still watching the interaction. 

You blushed mumbling another thank you before heading towards your usual seat next to Remus.  Yet when you reached it, it was already occupied. A fiery redhead sar in your place refusing to meet your eyes. 

A frown quickly took your face. You glance at Remus who sent you a sympathetic shrug and then looked back to the front of the room. 

You glanced around the room searching for an empty seat. When you found it you suddenly realized why your usual seat had been stolen.

James Potter sat alone at his desk looking quite annoyed as he glared into the back of Evans head. You sighed heading to the seat and plopping into it, dropping your bag recklessly onto the floor beside you. 

James turned to you smiling in amusement, "May I ask why a Prefect was late?" He mocked gesturing to the badge clipped on to your robes, its bright P shining in the dim candlelight. 

"This actually stands for 'Pull your head out of your ass Potter.'" You shot back, not wanting to put up with his bullshit. 

"So rude y/l/n." He gasped placing his hand on his chest in offense. 

You rolled your eyes sighing, "Being around you really makes me pity Evans." 

His eyes flashed for a moment before his face was taken over by an impressed frown "Touche." He shrugged. 

You turned your attention to the front of the class attempting to tune into what Slughorn was saying. These struggles failed quickly when you suddenly felt an ache of pain in your vacant stomach. 

Hunger consumed you quickly making the lesson go in and out of your mind.

You heard your stomach groan and found yourself wishing for your seat next to Remus once again. He always had chocolate or something with him and often shared with you. 

Your stomach grumbled again and you grimaced silently praying for this lesson to be over so you could find some food. 

"Hungry y/l/n?" James mocked before pulling a granola bar from his bag. 

Your eyes immediately snapped to it, like a dog to a piece of meat. You could feel your organs silently begging for the food he wove in front of your face. 

"Come on Potter don't be an asshole, give it to me." You said sternly. 

"I am very good at being an asshole." He shrugged. 

"Can't argue with that." You mumbled, "Can you just give it to me." 

"I don't know." He hummed in amusement, "I'm a bit famished myself." 

"Isn't famished a bit of a big word for you Potter?" 

He glared at you before opening the wrapper, eyes still locked on yours and taking a bit out of the granola bar. He chewed loudly, making a point of it, before swallowing and letting out an exaggerated sigh. 

If looks could kill James would currently be six feet deep. But since they cant he was smirking back at you bringing the bar back up to his lips. 

Before he could place it in his mouth you leapt upon him snatching the bar from his hands and stuffing the whole thing into your mouth. 

"Y/l/n, Potter! What on earth is going on?" Slughorn bellowed. 

The whole class turned to see you halfway on top of the boy, mouth completely filled, James staring at you with looking both astonished and impressed by your actions. 

You attempted to apologize but nothing but muffled hums would manage through your full lips. Your face splashed with crimson as you re organized yourself into your seat. 

James burst into laughter at the sight earning a punch to the shoulder, "She's most certainly sorry professor." He spoke smugly, "She's just struggling to say so." He added slapping your back causing your hand to shoot to your mouth to keep you from spewing the granola bar you were currently attempting to swallow. 

You felt your face wash red once again and you flipped off the boy beside you. He responded with another slap on the back and your hand once again flew to your mouth. 

Slughorn sighed before returning to the lesson. You finally swallowed before turning triumphantly to James. 

"Thank you very much for breakfast Potter." You snickered.

"How did you possibly see that as a win?" He asked with a chuckle. 

"I wanted food, I got food." You smiled proudly before adding, "With no real consequences." 

"Your so weird." James scoffed rolling his eyes in amusement. 

"Thank you." You grinned cheekily before turning your head back to the front. 

"For next week's assignment you will be studying, collecting ingredients for and then creating a potion." 

You groaned along with the rest of the class, that was a lengthy project, that not one of you wanted to do. 

"Now the project won't be due until next month because some potions take a month or so to create." 

"Thank Merlin." you heard James mutter beside you

"You will also be working with a partner." 

Instantly your eyes flew to the back of Remus' head and soon he turned around to lock eyes with you, nodding in silent agreement of partnership. 

But unfortunately your professor continued, "Your partner will be the person you are seated next to." 

"No!" You wailed throwing your head onto the desk in front of you, earning the attention of most of the room.

James let out a snort at your despair, "Am I truly that terrible." He asked feigning offense. 

"Yes." You glowered. "Yes you are." 

James only smirked before snatching the envelope sent by your professor from the air. He opened it scanning the words before turning back to you. "It says we have Vi-reti-ium." He said spelling out the last word slowly and incorrectly.

"Its Veritaserum dumbass." You scorned, "It is also a very complex truth potion." 

"It can't be that bad." James shrugged. You rolled your eyes before snatching your potions book form your bag and looking up the name in the index. You flipped to the correct page and shoved the book at James. 

He scanned the recipe eyes widening at its length and complexity. 

"Shit." He mumbled.

"Yeah, shit" You huffed before glancing back down at the recipe. "When's the next new moon?" 

James thought for a moment "Four days." 

"Ok, meet me in the library after dinner so we can start gathering ingredients, we need to have them by then." You explained while placing your book back in your bag. 

"Got it." He confirmed but his eyes were locked on a certain redhead who was leaving the room.

You sighed rolling your eyes, "Don't be late Potter." You muttered before turning and disappearing into the crowd of students exiting the classroom. 

You sat in the library for forty five minutes.

Forty five minutes.

Each minute you prayed he would run in sweaty and smiling apologizing as he took a seat across from you and pulled out his books. But he didn't. He just didn't show. 

Anger pulsed through you. He was bat shit if he thought you were going to so this whole project by yourself. 

Finally you gathered your neatly splayed out papers and books and walked briskly from the library. 

You walked promptly up to the Gryffindor common room, announced the password, (something you knew from spending countless  hours with Remus) and stormed inside. 

You were greeted with the sight of the four marauders plus Lily lounging on the plush couches. Your eyes landed immediately on the dark haired boy who sat facing you. His dark eyes were shining brightly in the fire light, magnified by the glass they hid behind. His shirt untucked, tie loosened. His hair was a mess of black, a few loose ends dancing softly in front of his face. Of course he was far to distracted by a pair of emerald green eyes to notice your arrival. 

For some reason that fact made you so much angrier as you marched up to the group. 

"POTTER!" You yelled your voice echoing off the walls of the room. 

His eyes immediately darted upward, his flashy smile only faltering for a second before returning when his gaze feel to you. 

"Y/l/n!" He grinned, "to what do I owe this pleasure?" 

"Pleasure my ass!" You shot back, "You were supposed to be studying with me in the library an hour ago!" 

His eyes widened before he cringed momentarily closing them before they opened holding new guilt. "Yeah about that…"

"Let me guess." You hissed, "You had to catch up on your daily routine of harassment?" You motioned towards Lily who seemed to be very uncomfortable with the whole situation. 

"Look y/l/n, I'm sorry I forgot. I mean the projects not due for a month anyway." 

"Godric you are stupid." You said massaging your head, nursing the soon to be formed headache, "It takes a month to brew dumbass!" You yelled bending down so you were level with his face, attempting to intimidate the boy. 

But your efforts failed when you saw his eyes soften, a sweet smile crawling slowly to his lips, "You know how adorable you are when your angry?" He mumbled suddenly unable to pry his eyes from your fiery completion and flushed face. 

Your eyes widened with surprise as you raised your head away from him. You felt heat rise to your neck before scoffing. 

"You better be at the library after breakfast tomorrow." You stated simply before walking briskly from the room before the rest of the group could notice the color invading your cheeks. 

Lily also took this as her sign to leave gathering her stuff and murmuring goodbyes before retreating to her dorm. 

James watched you exit the room before rolling his eyes and turning back to a group of wide eyed boys staring at him as if they had shut watched him decapitate someone. 

"What?" James asked eyebrows knitting in confusion. 

Remus and Sirius flipped their heads to each other sharing a glance then turning back to the now irritated boy

"What?" 

Remus scoffed.

"Did you just flirt with a girl who wasn't Lily?" Sirius questioned in disbelief. 

James scrunched his face in disgust, "What? No!" 

Remus rolled his eyes letting himself plop backwards into the couch mumbling something similar to "I can not deal with this."

As Sirius burst into giggles. Peter who was beside him seemed oblivious. 

"You totally just flirted with y/l/n!" He hollered over his laughter watching as James face filled with disgust once again. 

"I did not!" 

"You most certainly did!" Sirius bellowed laughter shaking his form. 

"I was insulting her!" The boy retorted defensively.

"That is one terrible insult." Remus chimed in earning a glare through a pair of thick frames.

"I was-I didn't- t-that's not." He stuttered looking for the right words.

"'Remus your so adorable. Do you feel insulted?" Sirius smiled cheekily still giggling slightly. 

"Godric Sirius how could you?" The werewolf responded in mock offense. 

"Oh shut it Moony." James sneered. 

"But Sirius insulted me!" His smile that of a wolf after trapping its prey.

"Ok so what if I did flirt with her?" James huffed in annoyance. 

Sirius rolled his eyes, "Maybe the fact that you haven't flirted with any girl but Evan's since you were eleven?" He offered. 

James flushed  muttering a half hearted "Whatever" and  then gathered his things. He didn't want to hear it.

The flirting didn't stop. Every chance that presented itself James leapt apon. He would compliment you, casually drop suggestive hints, leave his hand on your arm just a moment too long and so much more. The rest of the marauders caught on quick, which resulted in endless teasing of his vain efforts.

Because of this James had tried to stop, go back to the insults that he had become accustomed to but he couldn't, because for a fleeting moment before you scoffed and rolled your eyes, your cheeks would tinge and your eyes would momentarily widen and it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen. 

Something about the way the y/e/c of your wide eyes would bounce off the slight pink of your skin would make his heart leap to his throat and his stomach fill with the flutter of wings. So he spent every moment with you flirting relentlessly just to catch a glimpse of your embarrassment. 

Of course the dense boy thought nothing of it.  He had always been quite oblivious, so even with the remarks his friends through at him, he couldn't see what was right in front of him. He was in love. 

You on the other hand were quite confused. At first you assumed that the flirting was natural. Something that James exhibited in every girl. But after a chat with Remus you quickly learned that was far from the truth. He had stated that while James did tend to have a flirtatious nature, he had never gone so over the top before with anyone except for Lily and yourself. 

You had noticeably grimaced at the mention of Lily and the Gryffindor you were talking to had taken notice, but not spoken of it. 

You then assumed he was doing it to get on your nerves, something he seemed to enjoy quite a bit. But when his daily harassment of Evans dwindled from uncommon to rare, you couldn't help but wonder. 

You attempted to brush off the thoughts and feelings that kept you awake late at night but they simply stuck in place, the cement had already dried around them.  You knew you were being foolish, it was ridiculous to think that anything could happen, James being James and you being you. But that didn't stop you from hoping. 

Hoping that maybe, this wasnt some bullshit he had used to embarrass you, hoping that he meant every comment he tossed at you, hoping that the lingering touches would last forever. You dared to hope them in secret, never speaking the wished out loud. Hell you would barley admit them to yourself, let alone others.

But now as he sat next to you in the library you couldn't help but heat up at the falling of his arm around your shoulders. 

"Dumbass." You called, a nickname that you had adopted in response to his.

"Yes, love?" He smirked his heart jumping as you flashed red for just an instant. 

"I told you to stop calling me that." You sneered attempting to ignore the loud thump of your quickening heartbeat. 

"And I told you I don't care." He smiled wolfishly. 

You sighed, "Whatever did you finish the essay on Jobberknolls?" 

"Of course I did." He grinned as you rolled your eyes for what must have been the billionth time in the past hour. 

"Can I see it?" You asked impatiently.

"Here you are my dear." He said placing a piece of parchment in front of you. 

You felt your eyes roll instinctively before reading over his work, which to your surprise was done diligently and well. 

You let an impressed expression take your features, looking back up at the boy who was smirking at you. 

"I'm good aren't I?" He spoke wiggling his eyebrows. 

"You're not terrible." you agreed reluctantly passing the paper back to him.  Just then three boys walked into the library. 

Sirius immediately called to James getting shushed before even a minute passed his entrance. You quickly shrugged off James arm, not wanting the attention it would draw. Unfortunately it was too late, you watched as Remus raised his eyebrows in question, you rolling your eyes in answer.

The three boys stood in front of you as you scribbled a few final notes onto your essay ignoring the pointed looks they seemed to be sharing. They communicated in silence for a few seconds before James spoke up. 

"Well y/l/n I've got to go but I'll see you around." He chipped and without any hesitation he leaned down and pressed his lips to your cheek. 

You felt your skin connect for a mere second before he snatched his bag and walked up to the boys all who, just like you, were attempting to pick their jaws up off the floor. 

"What?" James asked, oblivious to the action he had just taken. Confused and a bit annoyed he left the library his entourage slowly following him. Remus looked at you one last time. Your mouth still wide, cheeks pink, hand brushing the spot his lips just occupied. 

He then walked quickly from the library to catch up with the other three boys. You sat in a daze for a few seconds. 

You could still feel his soft lips burning on your skin, you could feel where his nose had brushed your cheek lightly. 

Meanwhile Remus had caught up to his friends who all seemed very confused. 

"What the hell is up with you James?" He asked stepping in front of the flustered boy.

"What do you mean? Why are you guys all freaking out?" He seemed completely oblivious. 

"You just kissed y/n!" Sirius blurted smacking him in the back of the head. 

"I did not!" He gasped completely appalled as he pushed his glasses back up his nose looking at Sirius, extremely confused. 

"You just kissed her cheek you twat!" Remus shouted hit James over the head as well.

James scrunched his face, "I did no-" he stopped mid sentence, realization causing his eyes to widen. "Oh Merlin I did." 

"Yeah! What the hell was that about!" Rumus asked impatiently. 

"I don't.. I don't  know." James stumbled over his words, "I j-just did. It was like instinct, I didn't, didn't even think about it." 

"Oh my Godric I knew it!" Sirius exclaimed in triumph, "Your in love with her!" 

James mouth fell open ready to deny it.  But it suddenly hit him.

"I am in love with her." He muttered. "Oh Merlin I'm in love with her." 

"Took you long enough to realize." Remus chirped, "I've known for weeks." 

"Shove off Moony." James grumbled. 

"Well are you gonna tell her?" Sirius asked, he was practically skipping with joy. Excitement readable in every word he spoke as he bounced up and down like he was on a sugar high. 

"Umm I don't know." James was suddenly overwhelmed with information that had just become clear to him. 

"I think she likes you too." Remus shrugged, "she asks about you alot, and she always gets pissed when I mention Evans." 

"Oh shit Evans." James wanted to slap himself. How could he be so reckless to give his heart away at any chance he got? But with you it was different. He didn't care if Lily blushed before insulting him. He didn't notice when she bit her lip to hide a smile. He didn't know if she made adorable faces while she was thinking. But with you, he cared. He noticed. He knew. 

"What am I supposed to do?" James asked glancing around at his friends asking- no begging for help. 

"You should tell her James, like I said I think she likes you too." 

"Ok." James sighed, "I guess I'll tell her." 

That was much easier said than done. For the next week James was reduced to a pile of nerves and stutters when you came with in a 10 foot radius of him. 

His flirty, smooth nature was out the window the second he realized his true feelings towards you.

The project became more and more difficult to work on as every brush of a hand or shared glance made him crumble into a blushing mess. 

You were pissed. The good progress you had made was now dwindling as your partner became incompetent. So finally when the two of you sat in the library and James once again blushed like mad and spilled ink all over your essay simply because you had put your hand on his shoulder to show him something, you exploded. 

"What in bloody hell is your problem Potter?!" You shouted, effectively getting shushed by a chorus of people. 

James turn toward you looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Umm I umm" he began to mumble. 

"Seriously! Recently you cant even speak around me! What happened?" You interrogated the boy leaning closer to him.

James grasped for an excuse, fumbling and tripping over incoherent words. 

"Potter I'm not fucking with you, what is up with you?" You hissed, further annoyed by his continuing flustered behavior. 

James bit his lip glancing at the ground before turning back up to your angered face, he pushed his glasses up his nose and in a moment of desperation he collided his lips with yours. 

The second you felt his lips on yours you pulled away, "Why did you do that?" You asked eyes wide almost as if you were frightened. 

James' face went up in flames, "I- You- Remus said that.. that y-you might have liked me back and I-" 

"You like me?" You asked in absolute disbelief. 

"Of course I like you." James mumbled looking solemnly at the ground.

"Do not even begin to 'Of course' me!" You huffed, "You have been in love with Lily Evans for five years!" 

"I was never in love with Lily!" Jame shot back. 

"Bullshit! And you think that you can come to me and play with my feelings until Evans decides she likes you?" You said in disgust.

"No! No that's not what I wanted to do at all!" James gushed, "I really like you y/n. Luke really, really like you." 

"How?! You were obsessed with another girl less than a month ago!" 

"I don't know!" James yelled, his voice was shaky. "All I know as that the second we started this project, I wanted you. Not Lily. I think I'm in love with you." 

You gulped harshly, "You mean it?" Your voice was hesitant, as if you were scared to ask the question. 

"Yeah." James whispered letting his hand close around yours, "I really do." 

"Then kiss me again." 

He wasted no time. His lips met yours gracefully, they were warm and soft, his movements slow. You slipped your tongue into his mouth tasting butterbeer and chocolate, you craved more. 

You pulled away intaking deep breaths, "You better not be fucking with me Potter." You murmured taking your bottom lip between your teeth, hoping to still taste him there. 

"I wouldn't dream of it." He spoke, a dopey smile curving his lips as his thumb slowly brushed your cheek. 

You hummed softly before pulling him down to meet your lips once again.

Taglist: @accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3

Masterlist

[lumosinlove]

Solntse

part ii

Remus sits in Lily and James’ tiny living room and tries to ignore the subtly laid out pillow and blankets set on the corner of the couch. Lily doesn’t let him.

“Your apartment has flees.”

Remus sets his glass down, “That was one bug and it was a beetle.”

Lily twists her hair over one shoulder, unrelenting, “Remus. Please.” She nods towards the pillow, “Just—I’m worried. We’re worried.”

Remus looks away so he doesn’t have to see the way James nods, they way they’re both looking at him like he’s already a lost cause. He wishes for a moment he’d never told them what he does other than serve pizza and take the early shifts at the gas station around the block, but then he’d be all alone in it. And they were his best friends, that was why he had told them. Just in case one day all of James’ fears came true and some guy murdered Remus in a hotel room. Or something.

James sighs, “Mate, we’re not ganging up on you.”

“No, I know.” Remus nods down at his mug of tea, “I know. I just…I don’t want to be that friend you can’t get rid of. Like. That would be awful.”

“Re, you’re never going to become that.” Lily puts a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing, “That’s not how we think about it at all. We just want to know your safe.”

James raises his mug to his mouth, “As safe as you can be…”

“James.” Lily snips, then her face turns soft again for Remus, “Will you stay here?”

“Lils, really, my apartment is fine.” He curls his feet further beneath him, “I’ll finish my tea and go. Don’t worry.”

He thinks back to his two night hotel escapade and shakes his head more firmly at Lily. He already feels enough like a charity case as it is. Even if he did get good money for it. Sirius had pushed an extra eighty dollars into his hand at the door and closed it before Remus could protest. He had pressed a chapped kiss to his cheek too. Remus was still mulling that over.

When he finally does make it out of the apartment he pulls his ratty coat tightly over his shoulders and ducks his head against the wind. He could probably buy a new one if Sirius called again. He did ask for two nights in a row, and it went great so, maybe. But he didn’t want to be flashy about any new money. His landlord had already raised his eyebrows when Remus had handed over two months rent in advanced.

His apartment wasn’t flea infested although it did give off that sort of look. He had a cheep futon bed frame, just to keep his mattress off the floor so it didn’t mold, and a dresser from IKEA. His kitchen consisted of a stove and a sink. The gas was usually pretty iffy and his sink ran mostly cold, like his shower, but…he had a roof and food. It’s fine. He has James and Lily if he was really, really in trouble but he doesn’t want it to come to that. He’ll never want it to come to that.

He throws his keys down on the dresser and goes to check the leak under the sink. It hasn’t gotten worse but he empties out what water is in the bucket just while he’s there. He re-tapes the crack in the window and makes a note to ask his landlord about that. Again. He’s just sitting down on his bed when his phone rings. He groans and closes his eyes when he pulls it out, hoping it isn’t one of his less polite customers. He sighs in relief when he sees the name.

“Frank, hi.” Frank almost never wants sex. He likes to talk. He’s lonely. Remus can relate. He’s the son of two wealth-soaked parents who don’t pay him a lick of attention. Remus can half relate. “How are you, mate?”

“Oh. Hi, Remus. Wasn’t sure I’d get you, um. I’m fine. I—um. Was wondering…” He trails off.

“Sure, when were you thinking? I’ve got something Tuesday and Sunday and you know when I work, so…”

“Actually, I was thinking now?” His voice is up an entire octave with nerves, “I just…Family problems right now. Was hoping to just talk a bit.”

Remus runs a hand over his face but tries not to pause too long. He doesn’t want Frank to think he doesn’t want to, “Sounds great! Should I meet you at the—“

“I couldn’t get the usual room. It’s 207 tonight. Same hotel though, the Pierre.”

Remus nods, tries to keep a smile in his voice, “Great. See you soon.”

He’s barely hung up when another name flashes up at him. He’s almost embarrassed by how fast he answers, “Sirius. Hi.” That didn’t come out anywhere close to how he wanted it to.

“Remus! Life is good?”

Remus laughs lightly, still caught off guard but warmed by Sirius’ simple honesty, “Uh, yeah, life is good. How are you?”

“Good. Busy. Always busy, you know? I’m at airport now, going to be in town on Wednesday. You want see together? Or, ah, not together.”

“Each other.” Remus supplies.

“Yes, perfect. You always know. What you think, Remus?”

Remus half wishes Sirius would stop saying his name like that and half wishes he’ll never stop saying his name like that, “Yeah, that works for me. What time were you thinking?”

“Seven? I get us dinner in room, so don’t eat. I’m, ah…” Sirius lets out a soft laugh and Remus presses the speaker closer to his ear, “I’m think about you a lot.”

Remus swallows over a suddenly dry throat, “Yeah?”

“Hm.” There’s a loud speaker in the background and Sirius says something low in Russian, “Flight calling me. Wednesday okay, yes?”

“Yes. Have a good flight.”

“You too. Or—“ They both laugh, “Okay, I’m go now. Bye, Remus.”

The line goes dead and Remus lets the phone fall to the bed. He breathes in deeply and looks down. He’s half hard in his pants now and he really doesn’t know why. He’s suppose to be on his way to Frank’s, he tips well, he honestly needs Remus a little bit and…fuck. He splashes some freezing water on his face from the sink and yanks his door shut as he leaves.

Frank’s is fine. The hotel room is nice and Remus ends up sucking him off—twice. He doesn’t get hard either time but Frank seems either completely fine with that or he doesn’t notice. What does get him going is the ping he gets on his phone while he’s walking home from the tube. It’s a picture. Of Sirius. A selfie. He’s grinning in front of a beautiful sunset outside a plane window. There’s no message except a few sideways parentheses that Remus takes as smiles. Looking at the grin triggers thinking about Sirius’ large, warm hands on his hips and back. That leads to thinking about the way Sirius had carefully pushed his fingers inside of Remus, then the hot slide of his cock to replace them, his weight covering Remus’ back—

By the time Remus is walking up the stairs to his apartment again he’s more or less waddling around his tented trousers. By the time he’s throwing his keys on his dresser all he can do is lean back against his door and shove his hand into his boxers. They’re already damp with pre-come so what’s the point anyway? He smears his thumb over his head and squeezes the base, letting out a breath. It’s not as good as Sirius and his fucking huge palms. Now that he’s got a hand wrapped around himself he can really feel the difference. He pushes his pants down around his knees so he can get two hands around himself instead, twisting around the head and keeping a tight grip around the shaft. It barely takes a dozen pulls before he’s shooting into his fist with a harsh sound, Sirius’ name almost on his lips. Almost. He makes the mistake of thinking about the way Sirius had trailed his fingertips over his sensitive cock after he’d made Remus come in his mouth, keeping the pleasurable nerves alight, and takes a cold shower so he doesn’t have to go again. The shower only makes him think about how, next time, maybe Sirius won’t come untouched. Maybe Remus will get to return the favor. He doesn’t even know how much of Sirius he could fit in his mouth but fuck if he doesn’t want to try. He groans and wraps a hand around himself again. He’s too sensitive but he doesn’t care. He works himself fast and hard until his cock is a flushed red and he comes weakly against the shower wall, panting into the cool spray.

He looks at his phone as he towels off his hair. It’s Saturday, and it’s going to be a long couple days.

~

There’s a different woman at the front desk this time and Remus is glad. Not that he thinks the other one would remember him but, still. He stares at the twelve on the door for a moment, trying to calm his heart rate, before he knocks.

The door doesn’t open immediately so he knocks again, feeling more awkward by the second.

This time there’s a muffled shout and a few seconds later the door is yanked open by Sirius—dripping wet and a towel hastily wrapped around his waist.

“Sorry!” He gasps, “Sorry, flight late, felt kind of like plane—plane all over me? Thought I be fast, sorry.”

“Okay.” Remus meant to say it’s okay but, well, Sirius’ towel is slipping sort of low.

“Come in, come in, I’m be ready in minute.”

Ready for what? Remus wants to ask.

He goes to sit on one of the couches and strokes his hands over a soft pillows while Sirius pads back to the shower, dropping his towel without closing the door. For a second, Remus debates on whether he can consider that as an invitation or not. He stands up twice and sits back down before the water shuts off and he sits again. Sirius emerges a second later, grabbing the towel from the floor to wrap around his waist and another for his hair.  He rubs at his hair until the waves fluff around his ears and into his eyes. He smiles over at Remus somewhat guiltily.

“Sorry again. You want look at menu?” Sirius flips open a sleek looking suitcase and starts rifling through it, “Starving. Airplane food most bad, you know?”

Remus doesn’t but he’s not about to start that conversation. Instead he reaches for the leather-bound hotel book, “Where did you come from?”

“Sydney, ah…Hard for me to say.”

“Australia.”

Sirius laughs and pulls a loose fitting pair of sweatpants on—bare, “Yes, right.” A white long sleeve shirt follows and—to Remus’ surprised delight—a black snapback. It sits snugly on his damp hair, pushing the front part back out of his eyes while the rest wings out above his ears. Remus can see the shape of his ring necklace through his shirt. He swallows. Sirius looks good.

He pulls some warm looking socks on and Remus glances briefly at the hole in the heel on his own left foot. The couch bounces a little as Sirius settles next to him, leaning in close to look at the menu, “Good food? What you like?”

Remus tries to read the menu, he really does, but Sirius’ arm is thrown over the back of the couch  and his fingertips are brushing over where he sweater gives way to skin. He holds the menu out to Sirius, “You decide. I’ll eat anything.”

Sirius gives him a teasingly disapproving look but takes the menu and reaches towards the side table for the phone. He orders too much. A steak, fries, a plate of brisket ravioli, a cheese board, a salad, calamari, and two slices of chocolate cake. Remus doesn’t know where they’re going to put it all, but he hopes maybe he can take some of it home.

“We do tea later,” Sirius reaches out and fans one of Remus’ curls between his fingers. “After.” He amends, “They say thirty minutes.” Then his fingers are lightly brushing Remus’ hip, just beneath his sweater, “We stay busy while wait. Is okay?”

“Yeah.” Remus breathes, because what Sirius doesn’t know is that he got off to the mere memories of what they did last time every night leading up to now. Sometimes twice. Of course it’s okay. He’s never had a job this fucking okay, and he’ll damn sure make the most of it until Sirius moves on. They always do. Remus usually feels more grateful when they do, but he has a feeling Sirius will be different.

Sirius flashes him a grin and tugs him right into his lap. His lips are warm and chapped against Remus’, but the rough texture is nice. Remus feels like it keeps him there, in Sirius’ arms. He runs his tongue across Sirius’ bottom lip just to feel it and is rewarded with a soft sound and a palm to the small of his back. Sirius, who seems to be able to take Remus aback in almost everything he does, is holding Remus close, chest to chest. Not by the hips, not by the shoulders. Remus has never had any problems with abuse and he’s lucky in that way but Sirius, Sirius isn’t holding him like he’s there for sex at all. He’s cradling Remus in his lap, hands running lazily up and down his back. He’s licking into his mouth like they have all the time in the world, like they’ve been kissing forever and they’ll do it tomorrow, and tomorrow.

Remus’ palms cup his jaw and he runs his fingers along the edge of the snapback.

“You want off?” Sirius’ voice sounds like he’s just woken up.

Remus shakes his head and his eyes slip closed as Sirius’ mouth moves to his jaw, “No.”

Sirius’ warm breath against his neck as he laughs softly almost feels better than the wet kisses he’s leaving there. Almost.

They stay like that until the knock on the door makes Remus blink his eyes open blearily, suddenly aware of how warm he is.

Sirius shifts him to the side gently, kneeling on the couch for one last peck, “I’m get food, relax here.”

Remus blinks at him, licks his kiss-swollen lips, and honestly just wants to ask Sirius why he is like this. He rests his head back on the couch and listens to Sirius’ bright voice chatting away to the bell boy who brought their food. He’s thanking him, telling him how good it all looks, and Remus thinks maybe he’s just this nice to everyone he meets. He isn’t sure what to do with that.

“Hey,” Sirius head pokes back through the door, cart trailing him, “Food.”

Remus isn’t going to say no to that.

The spread of food looks even bigger when laid out and Remus can’t help but laugh as Sirus sits down next to him again, “Sirius, this is…a lot.”

Sirius shrugs one shoulder, “We don’t finish, you take home.”

Remus isn’t going to say no to that, either. He has a brief moment of wondering whether ordering this much was purposeful on Sirius’ part, but pushes it aside. That’s ridiculous. Sirius doesn’t even know him, much less anything about his financial situation. Well. He might know a little given who they are to each other.

Remus spends most of the meal listening to Sirius try to explain some funny story that happened on his trip, and anticipating the occasional moments of being fed bits of steak and such by Sirius, who barely breaks in talking despite how it takes Remus’ breath for a moment.

“I spend lot of time in hotel, you know?” Sirius’ voice breaks into Remus’ thoughts, mid story. He wished he’d been listening fully to know how to respond.

“I, ah, lonely?”

Sirius shrugs, but shoves a large scoop of pasta in his mouth. Remus takes that as a yes.

“How did you…” Remus searches for the right word before trying, “find me?”

Sirius actually pinks a little at that, “Ah. Friend. You know him. Recommend. Say you very sweet.”

Remus nods and respects the anonymity even if he’s dying to know who, “Sweet, huh?”

Sirius smiles a little, “I’m think so, too.”

They move onto the cake and the hotel had sent up an two extra desserts, seemingly just because Sirius is Sirius.

“I’m stay here lot, they know me.”

“Probably because you order the entire menu anyway.” Remus jokes.

It makes Sirius’ entire face light up, spreading his hands, “Hey, why not? Hungry after long day of flying.” He knocks his ankle against Remus’, “Good food, best company.”

Remus rolls his eyes a little and Sirius snorts. That shouldn’t be attractive, but it is.

“You live here always?” Sirius asks through a bite of cheesecake, “London?”

“Yeah, always.”

“Born here?”

Remus nods, “Yeah. I live a few streets over from my parent’s flat.”

“Must be so nice.” Sirius is smiling, but his eyes are down at his plate and he looks a little mournful. His fingertips not holding his fork are twisting the ring around his neck,  “Be near family always.”

Remus takes a bite instead of answering. It had been nice. For a while.

“Not…Not nice?” Sirius says softly, “Sorry, not want to bring up bad things, Remus—“

“No. No, it’s okay. It’s fine, I just…yeah, I don’t really talk to my parents much these days.”

Sirius places a warm hand on his thigh, thumb rubbing on the inside slowly. But it isn’t sexual. It isn’t even verging on sexual. It’s soothing and warm, and it makes Remus want to keep talking.

“Not since I came out.” He finally manages, “To them. They weren’t…” But it turns out that’s all he can say on the matter.

“Make you feel better…” Sirius wets his lips, “Parents not know. Mine, I’m saying. Scared to tell, not good thing in Russia.” He gives Remus’ thigh a little squeeze, “I understand. Remus, it’s—it’s most brave.”

Remus blinks hard, “Yeah.” He doesn’t know why he’s sitting here having this semi-melt down with Sirius. Sirius definitely isn’t paying for this. He’s probably annoyed with him under all his kind words and so Remus snuffles and digs his palms into his eyes, trying to wipe the tears away and the redness that’s probably there both. There’s nothing really to do to make this not an awkward transition. How do you go from tears to sex? And with a stranger? “I’m sorry.” He begins, “Fuck, this—was not what I had planned.”

“Remus, it’s not apology—no, okay?” He’s suddenly pushing the food table away and tucking his legs beneath himself, sitting on his socked-heels and taking both of Remus’ hands, thumbs rubbing gently against the vulnerable insides of Remus’ wrists, “I’m not mind, really. Really.”

“I’ll take this out of your pay. Honestly, Sirius, this isn’t what you brought me here for, I just want you to know that I know that.” Remus can’t help it though, and despite his words curls his fingers around Sirius’, “Sorry."

“Please stop saying, Remus.” Sirius tone is firm, “Please, you—not an apology.” Even the word ‘apology’ sounds nice in Sirius’ mouth.

“I…make okay? A bit?” Sirius tugs very lightly on Remus’ hands but when Remus shakes his head he—he lets go. Which Remus can’t decide how he feels about that.

“Sorry.” He says again, then at Sirius’ face, he pushes a hand through his hair, “Fuck, sorry—Sor—“

And then Sirius is kissing him. His thumbs are stroking slowly along his cheeks and he’s sucking Remus’ bottom lip slowly into his mouth, brushing his tongue along it with the same amount of leisure. Remus sighs into it, fingers digging into his own thighs for a moment before he’s leaning forward and pressing his palms flat on Sirius’.

“Only if want.” Sirius says against his mouth, “Remus.” He pulls away just enough to look at Remus’ glassy eyes, “You not want a second ago, I’m just want no more sorry. No, ah, not need to do anything, okay?” He curls his fingers back around Remus’ ears, around the curls there, “карамель, can just put movie on. Have more cake.”

Remus sniffles a little, blinking hard at Sirius, “Did—Did you just call me caramel?” He remembers the soft word from last time.

Sirius smiles, a bit, and lifts one shoulder, “It’s good, no? It’s…not sure how to say…small names important in Russia. Mean two people are close.”

Is that really what we are? Remus wants to ask. He sort of wants to yell it because, as great as this is, he sees nothing but a darker end. For himself, anyway.

“Oh.” Is all he says out loud and falls sideways a little on the couch into the cushions. He’s suddenly so tired. Sirius doesn’t seem to mind, though, and mirrors his position, their knees knocking together. His soft smile is still aimed right at Remus. “What’s yours then?”

Sirius’ smile grows, “Mama give to me when little.” He raises his eyebrows, “Little bit funny, not laugh.”

Remus feels a smile of his own start up and he uses his sleeve to wipe his nose, sitting up a little more, “I won’t laugh.”

“Sivushka.” It rolls nicely off of Sirius’ tongue, and his cheeks pink a little but he looks pleased, “Sort of…for family? Friends. Not so much lover, too…small?”

“Casual?” Remus offers, “Like, it means a different feeling.”

Sirius’ smile is soft, “So good with english. So helpful.”

“Sivushka.” Remus tries it out, but it doesn’t sound half as good. Then, he can’t help it, heart in his throat when he asks, “What’s…what’s more than friends? Like, not—just, I’m curious what that would be.”

“Lover? Sirusya, maybe.” Then he smiles, eyes crinkling warmly, “You like? You call me?”

“Surely someone already calls you that.” Remus tries to keep his voice light. I mean, look at you. He wants to add.

Sirius sits up at that a little, eyes going hard, hand—that had been rubbing idly against Remus’ knee—going still, “No. No one call me.”

Remus swallows, “I—I didn’t mean—“

“I’m not—изменя́ть.” He huffs in frustration, “изменя́ть—I’m not know, not know, okay?”

Remus’s chest goes cold, “Okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“Not be here if with—someone else.” Sirius shakes his head, “Not like that, Remus. I’m not.” The phrase is followed by a disgruntled spell of Russian that Remus does his best to follow through tone alone.

“I know.” Remus finally says, “I know you aren’t.” Because he’s only met Sirius twice but he can honestly say he does know this about him, “I’m sorry.”

“Not apology, карамель.” Sirius rubs his hands over his face, “Too much action, sorry.”

Remus looks on in confusion, “What?”

“Me, me,” Sirius gestures aggressively towards himself, “Me. Too much action. Not right.”

Overreaction, Remus thinks and nods, “No, I understand.”

“I’m know…what guys you probably see doing…this.” Sirius doesn’t look at him as he acknowledges exactly why Remus is there for what feels like the first time other than money exchanges, “Not wrong for you to think. But no.”

“Sirius, it’s okay.” But that feels wrong somehow and so he says instead, “I mean, we’ve done this three times.”

Sirius is quiet for a long moment this time. “It’s true.” Then, after running his fingers over his necklace a few times, “You have other small name?”

The topic change pings a little, “Um. Not anything big. Re, mostly, if anything.”

“Re.” It sounds like a lovely mess of vowel in Sirius’ mouth, “That’s all?”

Remus nods, “Nothing like Russia, huh?”

Sirius runs a hand over his face one more time but when he moves it there’s a trace of his usual smile, “I’m find you one, not worry.” Then, eyes down and voice quiet but questioning, “You have…small name…for lover?”

Remus swallows. His throat is so dry all of a sudden so he just shakes his head, then realizes Sirius isn’t looking at him so he croaks out, “No.”

Sirius nods back, “Oh.” Then he grabs the remote and pushes it into Remus’ hand, “Find something. I’m call for tea and get money before forget. Be back.”

It seems like the end of the conversation, but the conversation doesn’t feel over. Remus choses a movie, but he couldn’t say what it was about. When its over Sirius has to tuck the money into Remus’ back pocket himself. He presses another kiss to Remus’ cheek. Then Remus doesn’t hear from him for two weeks.

[bornsoldier-arc]

wOWOWOWOWOW !!!! it’s about to get real mushy here thanks to all of you folks. :’)) pls excuse the beautiful edit pictured above. i’ve been here for 2-3ish?? months and i’ve had nothing but an amazing time with all of you. i know this fandom in particular has its own troubles at times, but i cherish all the time i’ve spent here!! everyone who i’ve followed has been nothing but lovely, and this is my little shoutout to you superstars for being just. AMAZING!! especially while dealin’ with my shitposting <33 so below you will find a few shoutouts to some people i’ve grown very close to/old friends and a buncha people i love seein’ on the daily!! and if you guys know me, you know i’m terribly forgetful so if you’re not on here !!!!! I STILL LOVE YOU !!!!

MY SWEET SUMMER CHILDREN (aka the ppl who i get all heart eyes over)

@brokendefender / @getwebbed / @fearfeeling — :’)))) oh casey. what to say about my child?? wife????? best friend??? it’s a little bit of a grey area but i LOVE MY CANADIAN PAL WITH MY WHOLE HEART. you never fail to be the person who i’ll talk to 24/7, get stupid cute ‘ily’ memes from, and wow can we talk about whaT A GREAT WRITER YOU ARE??? i love all of ur sons and i’m glad i can throw my star spangled son at urs. :’)))))) i could probably go on for hours about u making me wheeze and enduring my titanic feelings and watching the producers with me (i love our movie nights) bUT THIS POST IS ALREADY GONNA BE LONG SO I GUESS I’LL HAVE TO CONTINUE ON THE NEXT FF I MAKE

@brokcnsouls — CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW LONG WE’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR A QUICK SEC???? i literally had to open skype for the first time in months because i just wanted to see when we actually started talking and i became utter trash for you and your writing and all of your children :’)) WE’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER SINCE MARCH OF LAST YEAR SO A LITTLE OVER A YEAR !!! i’m so happy we got to know each other back when i was on apollo and i’ve loved every single one of our threads since then okay our ever-growing list of aus is evidence of this B)) but also i’m so ?? grateful to have you every time i feel down or need to vent or anYTHING. oK I’M GOING TO CUT THIS SHORT BEFORE I GET CARRIED AWAY BUT !! never forget to put your own sanity before your 7 day work weeks and 100 drafts okay bb <33

@andagony — you knew this was comin’ boo bear :))))))) time for me to mAKE YOU MUSHY NOW THAT I’M ALL MUSHY. i’m :’))) so glad i got to know you this summer while i holed myself up inside to escape the heat death outside. your writing??? makes me cry?????? what the fuck what a goddamn TREASURE. i don’t care how long it takes you to write a reply because i’ll wait 5 yrs for one of your novels thanks. but aside from writing and our stupid bois??? i’m!!!! emotional about how much i adore your company. this is my shoutout to you for being an angel even if you call yourself a gorgon B))) ( sidenote i DID have to search in disco for WTF THAT SCARY CREATURE WAS ). i love you, and this is ur reminder to get more sleep ;((( U ARE MY WINTER BOO BEAR

@marvelous-maximoff — HI REMEMBER HOW I SAY I’M TRASH FOR YOU LIKE EVERY SINGLE DAY??? ‘CAUSE I AM. :’)))) whether it be wanda or buck-buck longstocking i love your writing!!!!! you just. put so much time and thought into your portrayals and all of your replies are so well-thought out in the head of your muses and i!!!!!! AM NEVER OVER IT !!!!!! you’re so much fun to talk to and plot with and scream over things with and i just. THANK YOU for being a 10/10 friend and writing partner. IF YOU WATCH PORTLA.D.IA I’LL WATCH B.OJAC.K HOR.SEMAN 

MY STAR SPANGLED SWEETHEARTS ( aka we write or maybe talk in ims or discord!! )

@endurraesa, @voitel, @vi-brain-ium, @eternallysoft, @soldatassassin, @missionmade, @strongwilltm, @henrymikaelscn, @strxnzo

THE LOVELY PEOPLE WHO I ADMIRE FROM AFAR OR UP CLOSE AND I WANT TO WRITE/PLOT/TALK TO MORE !!!! not in any particular order!!!!

@outlawiism, @sorscier, @interniisms, @assembletm, @fallencomrade, @auntlarb, @empantis, @mercwiththemouth, @mxctxns, @tobargain, @antdad, @ironicarus, @rdwng, @wightwulf, @andquantum, @solestarlet, @killypool, @mchanic, @microthief, @stormharbinger, @golddome, @facemypast, @badlvckkitty, @siiilvertcngue, @stcrmbreakr, @atimebomb, @greatestmarksman, @bestdefender, @godveiined, @mysticmastered, @neshanna 

[the-novelwriter]

RED.

By: Sherrieff Farrakhan

“MEOW.”

I looked up from carving my pumpkin to see what Mr. Drogo wanted. He always wanted attention when my hands were messy.

“What do you want now Mr. Drogo?”

“MEOW.”

He jumped up on the kitchen counter sniffing the innards of the pumpkin that I had just disemboweled, and that’s when I realized I hadn’t fed him yet and it had been almost twelve hours since the last time he had eaten. I walked over to the cabinet and took out a can of wet cat food. I remember when I first got him. He was the cutest little tiger striped orange kitten with blue eyes that I had ever laid eyes on. The rest of his litter had been sold and for some reason no one wanted him. He was my perfect pet though.

“Here you go baby, mommy’s sorry she’s been neglecting you today.”

I put the food in his bowl, gave him a pat, and resumed my pumpkin carving extravaganza. Halloween was one of my favorite holidays, mostly because I loved the smell of the crisp air and the mirage of colors produced by the annual death of trees. It was like the unofficial official start of Autumn. I also liked that I could be anyone but myself one day out of the year with no questions asked. It made being a plain Jane so much more tolerable, and the look on people’s faces when they saw me dressed in my sexy, insert profession here, costume was to die for.

Once I finished with my third pumpkin, an angry faced one, I took them outside and lit them. I took a deep breath and looked down at my works of art. They looked like a depressed boy band on the verge of a split. I giggled to myself and walked back inside, feeling my phone vibrating in my pocket. I washed my hands and checked it, almost missing the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey girl, me and Mark will be there in an hour at about eight-ish, I got the liquor and the Maryjane!” Nicki laughed, putting emphasis on the last word like I was too anal to know what she meant.

“Okay cool, let me clean this place up, I got pumpkin guts everywhere.”

“Alright, see you in a few!”

I hung up the phone and immediately got to cleaning. I hated having people over when my apartment was dirty, it was just a bit too small for extra people and mess. Four hundred square feet of space is just enough to have about two guests and a cat. I looked around my small apartment, the used brown couch and chair that came with it looking like they belonged to a grandparent from two generations ago. The cheap coffee table and end table set a little shinier than it should have been. It was a bit run down but it was mine. I had lived in it for two years now and I loved it.

“MEOW.”

“I know boy, just have to make sure everything is clean,” I responded to him. I hated making him uncomfortable, but sometimes I had too. He hissed and ran into my bedroom when I turned the vacuum cleaner on.

***

“Girl I cannot believe you got another picture printed out of you and that cat, we are in college and you’re already an old cat lady,” Nicki said.

“Oh, girl leave her alone, he’s the only male affection she has,” Mark chimed in. They both erupted into laughter. I don’t know if it was actually funny or if it was the weed, but we laughed for a few good minutes before I finally had a comeback.

“This is coming from a guy who hasn’t had a date since freshman year,” I responded with a sarcastic smile. “Your love life is about as dry as mine.”

He rolled his eyes and took another hit from the bowl. Me, Nicki, and Mark had been friends since freshman year of college, and we were now seniors. We had had our fair share of ups and downs but at the end of the day it made our relationship stronger. People always wondered how a black inner-city Chicago girl, became friends with me, an uptight white girl from Ohio, and Mark a flamboyant gay Asian boy from California. Nicki would defend our friendship with a ferocity whenever people asked her why she was friends with us. which happened a bit more often than I’d like to admit.  

“Because they are genuinely amazing people! It’s extremely small minded of you to think that I can’t relate to people of different cultures!” She yelled at one of her other acquaintances one day while we were out at a bar. His eyes got big and he made his way to a different crowd, not ready to face her wrath.

Me and Mark were quiet with awkward grins frozen to our faces. She looked over at us.

“I absolutely hate when other black people act like I can’t be friends with you guys because of my background, yes I’m a little hood but I am smart as hell…” She said to us as her eyes drifted to the floor. “I really care about you guys.”

“Girl we love you, fuck what small minded people have to say. We are sugar, spice, and everything nice honeeey,” Mark said to her with a level of sass that could only be topped by hers. We both laughed and gave her hugs to reassure her of our friendship. I knew she loved us, but I sometimes felt bad because her own community was a bit ostracizing

“Girl those pumpkins look like us when we’re mad at each other,” Nicki said interrupting my daydream.

“Can I hit that one more time?” I asked, reaching for the weed. “I didn’t think about it but yes they do!” I laughed almost choking on the smoke.

“Oh, I see someone is trying to get turnt up in here tonight,” responded Nicki with a smile.

“Well since midterms are over, I thought why the hell not?” I laughed. “You want me to make us some drinks?”

“Yaaaas!” Mark responded with his famous spirit fingers, the glitter paint on his nails sparkling in the dim overhead light.

“Just for the dramatics you get water,” I teased as I got up from the table.

“I have something to show you guys,” Mark said when I came back from mixing our drinks.

He was sitting there, holding his book bag with a big mischievous smile on his face. I never knew what to expect from him. He was the most unpredictable friend in our group, but it made things more exciting for the most part. Planning random road trips, throwing surprise parties, showing up to his friends’ houses without fair warning. He was the full package.  

“So, I went to visit a psychic yesterday to get my readings, and well I saw this old spell book and asked her if I could buy it from her, you know? Something spontaneous and creepy,” He reached into his bag pulling the book out. “She was reluctant at first, but after about fifteen minutes of warning me of ‘dark powers’ she sold it to me for $100. Of course, I had to convince her that I wouldn’t utter a word from the book aloud before she let me leave.”

The book was leather bound but looked like it had been through some rough days in its lifetime. He shuffled through it revealing missing and stained pages.

“You think my black ass is about to play with a spellbook?” Nicki questioned, moving her chair away from the small round table. “Especially one that you were specifically warned not to read from, Oh hell no!”

I laughed, finding myself drawn to the book. The alcohol and weed were really starting to kick in now and I felt in the mood for something spooky. I didn’t really believe in magic and spirits, so I didn’t care about the psychic’s warning.

“Let me see,” I said taking the book from Mark.

I flipped through the pages, not recognizing the language at all. I found a short spell and thought I would give Nicki a scare, I did owe her for making fun of me and Mr. Drogo. I recited the words in my head once before trying them out loud.

“Zü-rad fres-ah dor-ium khalê—”

“Oh, hell no bitch, stop!” Nicki tried snatching the book, but I moved away and stood up. I began again.

“Zü-rad fres-ah dor-ium khalê morti-ūn sherán”

I repeated it three times while running from Nicki, who unsuccessfully attempted to take the book. I eventually came back to the table and sat, out of breath. Mark had been laughing the whole time watching the two-woman production we had just performed. Nicki, on the other hand, looked visibly bothered.

“I’m sorry, I had to get you back for making fun of me and Mr. Drogo,” I said.

“Girl whatever, you know I don’t like that spooky shit. I need a shot,” She got up from the table and went into the kitchen to get more vodka.

“I wonder what it means,” said Mark, while looking over the page. “I’m going to google it.”

I suddenly started to feel uneasy and light headed. It was like the weed and vodka had started to hit me full force.

“I feel kind of light heade—”

***

“Shannon, Shannon,” I heard their voices calling out to me.

I opened my eyes and for a few seconds I couldn’t see anything. Eventually my eyes adjusted, and I saw Mark and Nicki standing over me.

“Girl what the fuck!?” Nicki half asked half screamed. “What happened?”

“I feel okay I just think I over did it on the weed,” I tried to explain.

I was a lot more scared than I let on. I had never passed out before, it makes your body feel so weak when you come back to consciousness. I was also nervous because smoking and drinking had never made that happen before.

“That has never happened to me before, maybe I shouldn’t have mixed the two,” I muttered. “I need some water.”

“Hold up Shan, I’ll get it for you,” Mark said, stopping me from getting up from the couch. Shan was a nickname they used every now and again.

“Did you look up the spell?” I asked him when he came back.

“I didn’t have time, you scared the shit out of me. You were only out for like 45 seconds, but still,” He said as he took out his phone to search the spell.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can take you to the hospital, if you want?” Nicki asked.

“Thanks, Nic, but I think I’ll be fine just have to let myself come dow—”

“It says here that the spell is one that Satanists used back in the day to conjure parasitic demons,” Mark interrupted. “What the fuck is a parasitic demon?” He asked to no one in particular.

“Can you please stop talking about it?” Nicki asked him with the utmost sincerity. I don’t think I had ever seen her look so scared and worried. She was not lying when she said she hated spooky stuff.

“Okay after this last thing. It says that parasitic demons possess their host and make them kill other living beings and then themselves as an offering to Satan,” He Informed. “How could anybody believe this shit?” He rolled his eyes and put his phone in his pocket.

“I don’t believe it, but it is very creepy,” I responded.

Suddenly, I felt my right eye starting to twitch. I excused myself to go to the bathroom to look in the mirror feeling slightly dizzy when I stood up. The way my apartment was set up the bathroom was located in my bedroom. On my way in I looked around for Mr. Drogo who I had not seen since my friends had arrived, he was probably under my bed. I looked into the mirror and noticed that there was a black speck on my eyeball. I blinked several times trying to see if it would move but to my surprise it gradually got bigger. Fear seeped into my chest as I watched the speck grow from the size of a pen mark to the size of a dime.

“You guys!” I screamed out to them. “Somethings wrong with my eye!”

They appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. They both shared similar looks of concern that immediately turned to surprise and fear when I turned to show them my eye.

“Oh my god, what the fuck is that?” Nicki whispered as she got closer. “It looks like its spreading.”

“Maybe you burst a blood vessel?” Mark tried to console.

“Blood is red Mark! This is fucking black!” I responded feeling myself becoming livid. Not at him just in general more than likely from the panic I was experiencing. I looked back in the mirror and noticed that most of the white of my eye was now black. It was even starting to spread onto the blue of my iris.

“Woah Shan, calm down girl, he’s just trying to help. I think we should go to the hospital now,” Nicki Said, “This looks serious.”

I watched my eye turn completely black and couldn’t help but cry. I sat down on the toilet seat and sobbed for a few minutes. They stood there like two concerned parents waiting for their child to get out of surgery.

“MEOW.” Mr. Drogo walked into the bathroom and brushed against my leg purring, also trying his best to reassure me that things would be okay.

KILL HIM.

“Did you guys hear that?” I looked up at them, startled.

“I know, his little purring is so cute,” Nicki responded with a fake smile trying to suppress her fear.

KILL HIM!

I looked at them just as confused as they looked at me. There is no way they didn’t hear that deep voice. Then it occurred to me that I was probably possessed. I didn’t believe in demons until the moment I heard that voice. My fear took over.

“I need to go to a church guys,” I said, “I’m hearing voices, and I think I may be possessed. What if the spell was real? Oh my god!” I let out another sob my body shaking from nervousness. I stood up and looked in the mirror again. My right eye was completely black now, and I saw another speck forming in my left eye.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Said Nicki, looking extremely uneasy her hands starting to shake as well. “I’ll get your shoes.”

Mark hadn’t said a word since I snapped at him, but his eyes said everything. Expressing fear and concern. I was shaking now profusely now. My fear turning to horror. The splotch on my left eye was now dime sized.

KILL HIM!!!

I let out a cry of fear. Not knowing what the hell was going on, my hand clutching my chest.

“Can we hurry up please?” I asked. “The voice is getting louder!” 

I looked down at Mr. Drogo who was looking up at me with his little blue eyes. I felt my face curl into a smile.

“Shannon, you’re smiling pretty hard, are you okay?” Mark asked.

“I will be once I please him,” I responded, but these were not my words. They came from somewhere else. I suddenly felt my consciousness shift as I became a bystander to the thing that began controlling my body. “He will be so pleased with my sacrifice,” I could hear the words leave my mouth, but I could not stop them. Mark’s eyes grew wide. 

“I found a church in the area that’s open this late, let’s go,” Nicki said appearing in the doorway.

“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” I felt the words come out. I tried with everything in me to fight this force, to get some of my own words out. I tried to move myself from my position in front of the mirror, but it was all in vain. It was very evident that I had no control. The most I could let out was a forced grunt.

“Girl fuck this, I’m calling the police!” Nicki Snapped out of fear.

Mark still stood silent, his face flushed and his eyes still wide. 

My body pushed past them and ran into the kitchen. I tried so hard to stop my it from moving. I could see, feel, and hear everything. I just had zero control. I fought so hard for control physically that it began to hurt all over. The pain was like fire, it felt like my blood was boiling, but I couldn’t even scream out in pain. In the kitchen I watched myself grab the largest knife from my drawer. I immediately knew where this was going, and used prayer as a last resort. I prayed hard in my head as my body walked back towards my bedroom where I heard Nicki talking to dispatch. As I prayed the physical pain intensified. 

GOD CAN’T SAVE YOU NOW!

“She’s got a knife!” Mark screamed.

They both cowered in the corner of my room. My body approached them slowly. I could still feel the grimace on my face, it stretched further making my face hurt. Nicki pulled out her key ring that had a bottle of mace on it.

“Shannon please, the police are on the way. I know you’re in there!” Nicki pleaded. I felt my eyes burn as tears ran down my face. I tried with all my might to get a word out. The burning inside me intensified but I still fought hard. It burned so bad that I finally was able to let out a scream. My tears intensified as I struggled to get the words out. My chest heaved as I stood there with my mouth open.

“I-I-I’m s-s-sorry,” I managed to get out before the pain forced me to give in and remain silent.

KILL THEM NOW!!

I approached them slowly. Nicki raised the mace and sprayed me, tears running down her face. I felt the burn of the mace, but it didn’t stop the demon controlling me. I lunged at her first wrapping my left hand around her throat. Mark grabbed my arm with the knife and tried to get it from my grip.

“Shannon please! You have to fight this!” Mark screamed after he failed to get the knife. Whatever was in control had inhuman strength so all of their efforts to fight back were futile. I felt my arm drive the knife into Nicki’s stomach, she didn’t make much noise because the hand around her throat was gripped tight. The most she managed was a few grunts, and then she began to gargle as blood spilled from her mouth.

“NOOOO!” Mark screamed, tears running down his face. He tried to make a run for it but before I knew it, I had him against a wall too, in the same way that I had Nicki.

“You think you can escape the wrath of my father?” I heard the question come from my lips, but this time it was the same voice I had heard in my head, powerful and deep. Mark whined as he tried to escape my grip. I heard Nicki gargle her last breath and momentarily forgot what was happening. I remembered all of the good times we shared. The love, the laughter, the tears, the secrets, Nicki. I felt my arm move and in an instant blood was flowing from his lips too. My grip on his neck released and he slid down the wall. He gurgled for about three minutes before he died, and the demon in control of my body made me stand right above him and watch until he took his last breath. I felt more tears coming from my eyes.

“MEOW.”

My head turned sharply, and my body ran full speed in his direction. He hissed and tried to run under the bed, but my hand gripped his tail before he could get away. I wanted so badly for him to get away, but in a matter of seconds I was holding him by the scruff of his neck. I really tried to close my eyes when the knife slit his throat, but all attempts were in vain. I felt his blood splatter on my face. My heart broke, it felt like it literally broke, and all I could do was silently cry. My chest began to heave. I was sobbing but I couldn’t Let it out. I watched as the demon used my body to lay my dead friends and dead cat on my bed.  I watched as it forced me to lie on the bed next to their cooling bodies.

“Father will be so proud,” The words left my mouth.

YOUR TURN NOW.

I watched myself pick up the knife and walk into the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror. I was covered in the red blood of my friends and cat. I then heard a knock on the door.

“This is the police. Please open the door!”

I saw my face clearly for the first time since my eyes had started to turn and I looked like a demon. My eyes, an abyss of darkness. My mouth, curled in a grimace that didn’t look humanly possible. I tried to pray in my head again, but nothing worked, this thing had me, and it wasn’t letting me go until it had what it wanted. I watched as the arm, my arm, that once seemed so familiar lifted the knife to my neck and slid the blade across my throat.

RED.

[btsficcss-blog]

Spring Season Part 1

Characters: Jungkook/Taehyung

Theme: Angst

Word Count:1,193

Summary: How long do I have to wait, and how many sleepless nights do I have to spend to see you? To meet you?

ya’ll I was sobbing while writing this too do you relate

As the phone rings, Tae gets up from the floor with spots of blood.

“Hello?”

“Tae! It’s me! Jungkook! I’ve called you countless times but you never picked up, I was worried. What’s up, dude? How are you feeling now?”

*Taehyung clears his throat* “Ium-I’m good. What about you?” ~lies

“Nah, don’t worry about me all that’s important is you. I’m glad you’re feeling better. So I was wondering if you’d like to meet up so I’m sure that you are alright. Meet me by the lake; it’s a nice weather today so it will be nice if we sit by the lake. See you!”

Jungkook hangs up and Tae sighs

‘He’s always been like that, I can’t blame him he’s worried’

As he starts to change all he thinks about is how Jungkook will react if he disappeared, he’s scared that he will hurt him but he’s desperate, more than desperate. He puts on his blue shirt then on top a black jacket and then a beanie his mother bought for him before she died. He puts on his shoes and opens the door to white snow everywhere, like everywhere.

'Right, he said it’s nice today but the weather is always the same’

Taehyung starts to slowly walk in the snow and as he reaches the lake he sees someone laying in the snow… wait, it’s Jungkook.

“Jungkookie!”

“Wha- Oh Taehyung!”

Jungkook stands up then runs over to Tae, he slowly watches him as he reaches him.

“How can one be happy to see me…?”

Jungkook finally reaches him, Jungkook holds Tae’s arm then folds his sleeves up to cuts and bruises.

“Taehyung!!!! Why????? Tell me. Why are you doing that to yourself again? You broke the promise.”

A tear falls down Jungkook’s cheeks and his eyes start to turn red.

“TELL ME. WHY?”

“What do you want me to say, Jungkook? I have a problem, is it? I’ve already said that too many times for it to get through your skull”

Jungkook starts to sob, his face is cherry red, his eyes are bloodshot, there are too many tears but Tae is just standing there, doing nothing but looking forward into the distance. What a cold hearted brat.

Suddenly out of nowhere

“Jungkook-hyung… I have something to say. I don’t want to hurt you but you have to leave, you have to leave me. I am a sadist who has ruined many people’s lives. I want you to leave. Leave Jungkook. Take care of yourself. Forget about me. I’m only sa-“

“Tae, listen up. I am NOT leaving you, no matter what happens I will always be beside you. I know who you really are. You used to be that person who always laughed and cheered people up, now you’re suffering but I’m still by your side, I am still with you. I’ve known you long enough to call you my soul mate. Taehyung, I am not leaving you”

'Does he not fucking understand’

Next day Tae wakes up with a bottle of vodka next to him on the bed, blades and blood stains on the bed, like a lot.

As Tae takes the bottle and opens it there’s someone calling, he didn’t care, he acted like he never heard it and started to drink straight out of the bottle.

'I’m such a loser, the poor thing’s wasting his time on a loser like me, how pathetic can I get’

After a couple of hours Jungkook stopped ringing him for 30mins but after, Tae can hear a knock on the door.

'Oh my god there’s something called privacy’

Taehyung slowly gets himself out of bed to his door, His door has scratches all over it, all of his walls are broken and clothes are everywhere and he smells.

“Tae!! I rang you like over 70 times but you didn’t bother to pick up! Anyways, I’m here to make sure that you’re alright but it doesn’t look like it. Can I come in?”

“Uhh sure”

As Jungkook steps into his apartment, he starts to look around the room.

“Dude you need a cleanup, I can help you with that if you don’t mind. I can also buy you brand new clothes you smell”

“Thanks”

“Hah, so I’ve got something to show you”

Jungkook takes something out of his pocket and holds tight on it, it looks like a necklace. Oh wait, it is.

“Here have it, do you remember this?”

Jungkook gives the necklace to Tae and he starts to stare at it. This necklace is just not any normal necklace you see, it’s special. It’s not only one necklace, it’s two. It’s a heart halved for two people and when the two necklaces find each other, it turns bright red which is more like a friendship necklace. When Jungkook and Tae were only 12 they used to wear this necklace everywhere.

“Do you? Tae?”

Tae doesn’t remember the necklace but he responded with an “Um I do”

Jungkook has a feeling he doesn’t, he knows he doesn’t but Jungkook is that type of person to put a fake smile on the outside even if he’s dying on the inside, it’s painful but Jungkook is used to it so he puts one of these masks on.

“O-okay good. So I was wondering if you’d like to go out for some kimchi, I’ll pay for everything”

Tae looks disinterested which hurts Jungkook but he still has this mask on.

“Actually, I’m not in the mood Jungkook, sorry um maybe another day I’d just like to say home”

“Bu-I’m-what i-ta- Okay… As you wish Tae. I may as well go home for some rest too. Take care, I love you. Just remember, if you hurt yourself you’re also hurting me too. Take care is all I ask for. Have a good day!”

“Goodbye”

As Jungkook walks out of the door tears start falling down his cheeks, he wishes he could do better but nothing, literally nothing works. Jungkook wishes he could go back to his childhood again when Tae was smiley and happy. He just wishes Tae would come back to his old personality.

Tae closes the door and slowly walks to his room in tears, he throws himself on the bed and starts screaming in his pillow with tears, he wishes it would all end too, he wishes he disappears with no sign. Tae starts to look up at the ceiling to think of how to end all of this.

“Maybe I can just, jump”

Tae walks out of his apartment and climbs the stairs to the top of the apartment complex.

“This is how it’s all going to end. Jungkook, I’m sorry”

“TAEHYUNG!”

Tae looks behind him, small Jungkook is bawling his eyes out but, Tae doesn’t care.

“TAEHYUNG! DONT PLEASE”

“Jungkook, I am sorry, I love you. Please take care of yourself that’s a wish from me. Goodbye”

[thetruthseekerway]

The Power of Words

New Post has been published on http://www.truth-seeker.info/oasis-of-faith/power-of-words/

The Power of Words

By Dr. Ali Al-Halawani

Nothing can penetrate and/or conquer the human heart more than a nice phrase, a warm smile, a lenient expression, or a faithful intention.

In my Semantics class this morning, I wanted to discuss the relationship between words and meanings in human languages. It is a very important issue for those who want to do linguistics in general and semantics and discourse analysis in particular. Sammy Hagar once said, “Words have power. They work. That’s why poetry can affect people. That’s why music and lyrics and songs affect people…”

Anyway, during my regular discussion with my students, I displayed to them a short video clip titled, The Power of Words, in which an old blind beggar is seen as he was sitting stretching his hands to passerbyers in a way to ask them for help.

The old man had a sign beside him and thereon the following expression was written, “I Am Blind; Please Help”. Very few people were encouraged to help him and he only collected very few coins. As time passed by, a young woman who seemed very practical passed by him. Noticing his sign and what is written on it, she took a marker out of her purse and wrote on the other side of the sign something and she left without giving the man any money.

What happened next was amazing, as people started to throw coins, many coins, to the man and they were encouraged to help him.

Recognizing her through touching her shoes, the young woman came back after a while and the old man asked her, “What did you do? What did you write on my sign?”

She replied, “I wrote the same but with different words.”

She wrote, “IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY AND I CAN’T SEE IT.”

Amazingly, if you change your words, you may change your world and make it even better.

When I watched this video clip with my students, it reminded me of another old story that I once came across. The story runs as follows.

Once upon a time, a king who was aggressively ruling his people decided to prevent all women from wearing their gold, jewelry and precious ornaments.

The women’s reaction was unexpected as they decided to disobey the royal orders. Massive complaints, resentment, and protests prevailed. To add insult to injury, the women started to wear their jewels and golden ornaments excessively and exceedingly as a way of showing disobedience to the king’s tyrannical orders.

The king was so much troubled and did not know what to do to overcome these adversities and unexpected social turmoil.

Thereupon, he called for an emergency meeting to be held and called upon all his consultants to be present. The discussions began and one of the attendees proposed that the king should withdraw his orders for the sake of public interest.

A second consultant objected to that suggestion claiming that the withdrawal of the king’s verdict would be taken as an indication of weakness and fear. Whilst the king should project his authority and power and make it visible to all of his subjects. The subjects must realize who is governing whom!

The king’s consultants were divided into two parties: cons and pros.

As no one of the consultants could convince the king with his opinion, the king ordered that the wise man of the city should be summoned and the latter presented himself to the king shortly. All details of the issue were related to the wise man’s ears and he listened carefully until he started to speak addressing the king.

The wise man told the king, “People will never obey you if you think of what you want and not what they themselves want!”

The king asked, “What should I do, then? Should I retreat and withdraw my orders?!”

The wise man answered, “No! But, you should issue complementary orders that wearing gold, jewels and ornaments should be illegal for pretty women as they are in no need of such ornaments. Only the ugly ones and those who are old should wear such ornaments and golden jewels to make up for their shortcomings and defects as they need to cover their facial wrinkles and ugliness.”

The verdict was issued and the news was aired everywhere.

In few hours, all women took off their golden ornaments and jewels and each one of them started to look at herself as being so pretty and young that she does not need any of these “artificial” ornaments!

Upon that, the wise man said to the king, “When you started to think as people do, and realized their interests and appreciated their feelings, only then they obeyed your orders!”

The moral of this story is that forming expressions and using words is an art which needs to be mastered by all and a science which we need to learn and be proficient at.

Let us call upon others to do whatever we want through finding the link between what we require them to do and what they actually like to do. In a similar vein, let us consider what they do not like before we give them verdicts, decisions or instructions.

The addressee should feel and recognize the personal fruit he is going to reap if he conforms to the instructions and obey the orders you give. Nothing can penetrate and/or conquer the human heart more than a nice phrase, a warm smile, a lenient expression, or a faithful intention.

Allah the Almighty says in His Ever-Glorious Qur’an what means,

“So by mercy from Allah, [O Muhammad], you were lenient with them. And if you had been rude [in speech] and harsh in heart, they would have disbanded from about you. So pardon them and ask forgiveness for them and consult them in the matter. And when you have decided, then rely upon Allah. Indeed, Allah loves those who rely [upon Him].” (Al ‘Imran 3: 159)

Prophet Muhammad (Peace and blessings be upon him) said in one of his hadiths, “It is also charity (sadaqah) to utter a good word.”

The noble companion, Abu Hurairah, narrates that the Messenger of Allah (Peace and blessings be upon him) said, “Verily a person utters a word, that he deems harmless, but it results in his falling into the depths of the Hellfire.” [Al-Tirmidhi; Ibn Majah]

This means that this person does not think about what he says and, furthermore, does not fear the consequences which may arise because of it. Concisely, he is a reckless person who cannot calculate or anticipate the consequences of neither his actions nor words. To me, this is an encouragement to hold one’s tongue and to only speak when there is some benefit in doing so; otherwise, one should keep silent.

This can be understood from the saying of Prophet Muhammad (Peace and blessings be upon him) who said, “Whoever believes in Allah and the Last Day should say the good or remain silent.” [Nawawi, Sharh Sahih Muslim]

Finally, do not forget to occasionally put yourself in the shoes of others. This will help a lot! Believe me!

——-

Dr. Ali Al-Halawani is Assistant Professor of Linguistics and Translation, Kulliyyah of Languages and Management (KLM), International Islamic University Malaysia (IIUM), Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. He was Assistant Professor and worked for a number of international universities in Malaysia and Egypt such as Al-Madinah International University, Shah Alam, Malaysia (Mediu) and Misr University for Science & Technology (MUST), Egypt; Former Editor-in-Chief of the Electronic Da`wah Committee (EDC), Kuwait; Former Deputy Chief Editor and Managing Editor of the Living Shari`ah Department, www.islamOnline.net; Member of the International Union of Muslim Scholars (IUMS); and member of the World Association of Arab Translators & Linguists (Wata). He is a published writer, translator, and researcher. You can reach him at alihalawani72@hotmail.com.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Preview: Gateway Drug [ Volume II ] | Part One

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.

.

.

"How's your baby boy?" She asks innocently, despite the fact that the question has me nearly choking on my water for a moment while Nikki awkwardly fumbles with his rings. 

"He's great." I answer her. 

"How old is he, now?" She asks next.

"Um, he just turned three months last week." I reply, and Gene leans back in his chair before bluntly asking:

"Does he look like the blonde kid?"

I know he's referring to Duff, my nails biting into my palms as I try to remember what I've been telling myself for the last three months. 

People are going to ask questions. Talk about it like it's not a weird situation, and it won't be a weird situation. 

"He does, actually." I nod, and he looks at Nikki.

"I bet you're thrilled about that." He tries to sound like he's joking, but I know he's not as he sarcastically throws it out to my husband, to which Nikki says, "I'm happy he's even here."

"At this point, I'm sure everyone's just grateful that he's a healthy baby." Shannon eases the tension before it even really arises.

"Exactly." Nikki agrees, glancing at Gene.

"Well, I commend you for what you're doing, truly, because it could not be me." He adds, raising his thick, black brows.

"You wouldn't be able to pull Vivian in the first place for it to be you." Nikki passive aggressively counters, his jaw clenching and unclenching despite his smile on his face as Shannon and I look at one another for a moment as if we're expecting to dodge from the table and let them duke it out – well, kind of. Gene doesn't seem like the type. 

"Haha." Gene laughs it off with the same passiveness. 

"I heard you on Howard Stern." Shannon starts next, her attention on me, and I feel the color drain from my face.

"Oh, yeah?"

"You two held it together really good – he was invasive. It would've given me the creeps if I had to be there." She says.

Shortly after I had Monroe and “Appetite for Destruction” flew off the charts and the band started blowing up big-time, Howard Stern wanted to sit down and talk with me and Duff about our unique predicament and Duff's forthcoming fame. It was just as weird as I had feared it would've been, and because of it I failed to mention even doing it to Tommy, Vince, Mick, and especially…

"Howard Stern? You were on Howard Stern?" Nikki asks as he looks at me with furrowed brows.

"This morning." I nod, licking my lips. "Duff and I went." 

"For what?"

"To talk about the stuff that's happened, and Duff talked about Guns 'N Roses, and the album, and the tour, and stuff." I try to emphasize Duff's involvement and brush over the fact that I essentially got an interview with Howard Stern just for screwing my husband's friend and getting knocked up.

My sugar-coating doesn't work, however, Nikki's eyes staying on me while I drink more water to fill the gap of silence as Shannon looks as if she's in trouble for mentioning it while Mr. Simmons leans on his elbow, hand covering his mouth, hiding a smirk while he glances between the two of us. 

I know we'll get into it on the way home tonight by the way he clears his throat, patting himself down before stating, "I forgot my wallet in the car, I'll be back in a second."

He offers a fake smile, patting my shoulder as he stands up and Shannon lets out a breath and smiles at me awkwardly. 

"I'm gonna powder my nose." It's as if she's clawing to escape the quiet that has now engulfed our table, leaving me and her boyfriend alone so she can go to the bathroom, only for him to stare at me freely now, out from under the supervision of our significant others. 

I stir my water with my straw, looking around for Nikki to come back as if he can walk at super-human speed. 

I'd rather be arguing with him in the parking lot than sitting across from the man who's slept with over 2,000 women and allegedly has kept photo albums to document each conquest, and is looking at me as if I’m the next one. 

"Is that your natural hair color?" He asks me and I look at him.

"Yep…is that yours?" I nod to his jet black hair and he slowly cracks a smile. 

"Yeah, it sure is." He states. "All the hair on my body is naturally colored, too." He adds. "And yours?"

"I don't like body hair." I say flatly, feeling I know where he's trying to go with this, his brows shooting up. 

"Woah, they didn't say anything about that in Hustler." He retorts. 

"It was Playboy." I correct him as he picks up his water glass.

"Porn is porn." He finishes off his drink, the bottom of it hitting the table as he puts it down. 

[xxisxxisxxis]

Deleted Scene: Gateway Drug | "Ode to Bullet Trains and Arrestation" -- 1987

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.

.

.

"What the hell happened?" I ask Fred as I walk through the lobby to the elevator of the hotel. 

"Just a dumb fight that got thrown out of proportion and Nikki snapped," He explains. "They spent, like, five hours tops in jail until they were let go." He adds. "And Nikki's still asleep so--"

"--Where's the copy of his key?" I ask him once the elevator doors open and he mashes the button of the floor they're on. 

"...Vivian, I don't know if--"

"Where is the key?" I ask him and he hesitates for a moment before digging in his pocket. 

"Don't go starting shit with him, Viv, I'm serious." He states and I roll my eyes as the doors open, and I look on the key chain to see what room he's in. "Sixx, I'm serious," he calls as I walk down the hall. 

"If he's man enough to be big and bad and scare the shit out of complete strangers and embarrass me some more then he's man enough to get his ass kicked for it!" I reply. 

I'm unlocking the door and immediately, I'm met with a God-awful smell which lets me know he hasn't showered in a long time. 

I'm too angry to go throw up in the bathroom, although I'm sure it's worse in there, and I step over empty bottles, dirty clothes, bloody towels, spoons, foil, and empty coke bindles before I'm crawling onto the bed and standing over him, track marks eating away at his pale white skin, dark circles hugging his eyes, an irritable, tense grit of his teeth, even while he sleep he's in a pissy mood…

That makes two of us. 

I pat at his face probably harder than I should, the first thing out of my mouth is, "get the fuck up, you bitch," I bark out. 

It takes him less than twenty seconds to get awake enough that he realizes he's not dreaming. 

"You fucking cunt!" He screams at me, fighting me off of him. 

"Oh, I could say the same about you Mr., 'I'm gonna throw a bottle of Jack at one of my friends and hit the bystander next to him instead'!" 

"You weren't even fucking there, you don't what the fuck happened!" He shoves me off of him. 

"Then what the fuck happened, Nikki?!" 

He just rolls his jaw and stares at me with a "go to hell" cut to his eyes. 

"What the fuck do you want, Vivian?" He finally gets out, sitting up. 

"Doc--"

"--Ohh, fuuuck me." He sneers out, irritated, pulling the covers back and standing up.

"Well, what do you expect him to do, Nikki?!" 

"Stay out of my goddamn business, Vivian, that's what I expect him to fucking do--just like I expect you to fucking do." He states, going to the bathroom, leather pants hanging too loosely on his hips. 

I glance around the room as I hear him flush the toilet and curse under his breath, hearing the sound of him splashing water on his face. 

"I'm well aware what you do isn't my business, Nikki. Trust me, I know it isn't. I know you'd rather die than tell me anything you do or who you do it with or--"

"--You flew all the way to Japan to fucking fight with me over something you weren't even here to be bothered by?" He rhetorically snaps.

"I was bothered by it, Nikki, because the shit you do here gets back to L.A., and people talk about it and it reflects badly on me." 

"So you're not here because you care about me or you're worried about me, you're here because you're being embarrassed by bad Nikki's actions. Oh, how terrible!"  

I head to the bathroom, my hand balled up in a fist and when he sees me about to hit him he grabs my hair, making me wince. 

"Hit me." He tells me, daring me to. 

I decide it's not a good idea. 

"That's what I thought." He lets go of my hair. 

I watch him for a second and wrinkle my nose. 

"You need a shower." I say to him. "And you need to brush your teeth." 

"You need to go back to L.A." he mumbles. 

"No." I say back as he picks up a razor to shave his stubble. "Don't shave yet, I like it." I reach for the razor and he glares at me. 

"Not like you're benefiting off of liking it anymore, Miss, 'I refuse to even let my own husband touch me'." He scoffs. 

"Because you don't want to touch me. You're always saying and doing mean shit to me." I argue. 

"Fuck you." 

"Get a shower." I roll my eyes and slam the bathroom door. 

I get all of his gross, slimy clothes in a corner and clean up all the towels before I get rid of the empty drug bindles and baggies, spoons, and needles. 

When he gets out, I'm glancing at him as he looks like a drown rat. 

"We're going to my room." I tell him, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. 

"No, I'm not." He argues. 

"Nikki, it smells like utter shit and ball sweat in this room and it's disgusting. I'm not letting you stay in here like this." 

***I didn't know how he was going to argue with me over that when he knew it was true. He just glared at me and probably thought about running me over, but I didn't care. I wasn't leaving him by himself and I wasn't staying in that room.***

I crawl into the bed in my room that Doc got for me and let out a soft sigh, turning over to face Nikki.

I can't help but stare at him, seeing the faintest outline of his fingers coming up to rub his eye for a moment before falling back above his head. 

I get a little closer to him, feeling him tense up slightly beside me. 

"Don't do it." He says abrasively, and I get even closer, my leg slithering across his front until I'm straddling him, his lungs pushing out a sharp sigh as I ask, "do what?" 

"You know what." He replies. 

"I do?" 

I run my thumb across his cracked lips, my own lips pressing to his stubbled cheek. 

"Vivian." 

"You love me." I tell him quietly, bringing up his drunk phone calls to me, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

"Yeah." He doesn't deny it, his tone as if he knows he's in deep, now. 

"Yeah." I repeat it. 

His hands run up my back, I can feel the scabs on his arms rub against my bare skin as he wraps his arms around me, and the feeling sends a clammy sickness to my stomach as his hand tangles in the hair at the nape of my neck. 

"Do you really?" I ask him softly, the tip of my nose brushing against his. 

"Yeah," he repeats, swallowing thickly his other hand coming up to brush hair from my face before guiding my lips down to his. 

It's chaste—possibly because he doesn't have the will or the energy to kiss in a way that's going to result in us fucking the life out of each other being that he's already over half-way there by the looks of it. 

"Can you call Bob for me?" I test it out, deciding I've gotten him where I want him the best to my ability to propose to go back to rehab. 

Our facade shatters. 

I see his face twist in the dark of the room that's only light by the city lights and the light from the smoke detector in the corner. 

Next thing I know, we're both on the floor, his hand around my throat, his thigh between my legs as he hovers over me. 

"You think you're gonna fuck me into handing my balls over and going to rehab?!" He snarls like a mad dog and I grab his wrist, breathing as best as I can. 

He's not choking me out, I can still get some air in, but not much. I know he's trying to prove a point, but after actually strangling me a few weeks ago, it's not bringing back good memories. 

"Nikki, just—"

"—You didn't come here to check on me. You came here to try to manipulate me into going to rehab after I called you fucked up on smack and told you some bullshit in hopes of having a chance at getting my dick wet with you before we split for good." He throws down at me. 

"Really sounded like it." I smart back, chuckling, feeling his hand shaking with anger, but his grip doesn't get harder. 

"Fuck you."

"You're too sick to, asshole." I argue. "Not that anyone could pay me enough to fuck you right now with how bad you look." 

"Oh, please, Vivian, your easy pussy's probably slicker than oil by now given our position." He bites back. 

"Wanna check?" I ask. 

He shoves off of me, going on about how "fucked up" and "sick" I am. 

Pot calling kettle black. 

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety

Words: 4k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of violence, mentions of drug abuse

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"Hey, Viv, it's Tansy...I got your flowers and was calling to let you know I'm getting out of the hospital today, and I'm heading to the same place the guys are at, Nikki said it doesn't suck as bad as the other places they've tested out, um…" Tansy's sweet voice sounds over my answering machine. "...I'm really sorry for not calling earlier. I'm just now getting off methadone, so I've kicked smack successfully. I just wanted you to know I'm doing okay and getting some help, and Nikki called and told me you two were working things out." She adds. "Come visit me, soon, okay? We have a lot of shit to talk through, and I know we do, I just don't know where to start but I love you. I'll see you later." 

She hangs up and I smile a little bit, rubbing my lips together.

I haven't heard anything on her since Steven told me she was in the hospital back in New York after her overdose not long after Nikki's. I sent flowers when he told me she had to undergo emergency surgery to cut a part of her liver out that was turning necrotic. 

I hope we can get through things like me and Nikki are trying to do, I think Amber's going to try to bring Vince and Tommy in to talk about our relationships as a whole the session after this next one Nikki and I have...maybe Tansy and I can sit down a few times and hash things out, too. 

I head to get a bath, but it's not long before my peace is soon disturbed. 

This is the fifth time the phone has rung in the past two minutes, and I roll my eyes and pull myself out of the bathtub, grabbing my towel and stepping to the living room. 

I already see my message machine blinking from unheard voice-mails, and I pick the phone up and answer it. 

Before I can even say, "hello," Sharise starts in. 

"Vivian, what is going on, why didn't you say anything about it, why--"

"Sharise, slow down," I'm bombarded with a million questions, paranoia making my chest tighten. 

"Vivian, you're pregnant, apparently, that's what's going on." She clarifies, and I feel the color drain from my face. 

"Did Vince hear that from Nikki and tell you or--"

"--You're actually pregnant?!"

"You didn't hear it from Vince?" 

"No, Vivian, it's all over MTV!" She says next, not sounding angry at me, just shocked. 

"What?!" 

Just as soon as she says it, there's a sharp beep from the phone, indicating someone's trying to call. 

"Gimme a second and I'll call you back." I assure her. 

"Fuck that, I'm coming over." She tells me before hanging up and I take the next call while turning the TV on to MTV. 

I just see a picture of Nikki and I on the screen as I hear, "again, congratulations to Nikki and Vivian Sixx on the news of their…"

"Hello?" I answer the call that has interrupted Sharise and I. 

"Why the fuck is Page Six running a story about you being knocked up with Duff fucking McKagan's kid?!" Doc yells and I nearly fall out, starting to panic.

"Because I am, but I have no idea how the hell anybody other than Nikki and Duff know about it, Doc, I haven't even told any of my friends or family yet, I swear." I promise and I hear him curse and throw stuff around on the other end for a good two minutes before calmly saying, "this isn't good, Viv." 

"No, shit, Sherlock." I reply. 

"I'm going to talk to Sixx, you just stay at home--don't do anything irrational, we'll take care of this." He states, hanging up. 

My phone is ringing again as soon as he hangs up. 

My phone starts ringing off the hook within three minutes and I have to step outside to the back yard with Whisky to get away from it.

I'm sitting on the edge of the pool when Sharise gets here, this look of disbelief on her face. 

"I had to drop Sky by my mom's, what the hell, Viv?" She asks me, sitting beside me. 

"I was gonna tell you and everybody once I got past the first trimester, Sharise, I promise." I say, honestly. 

"I'm not mad that you didn't, I'm just...I didn't realize you and Nikki were sleeping together again." 

"We're not." I state. "And Doc said that Page Six already knows it's Duff's and has it plastered everywhere so somebody said something to somebody." 

"Duff?! Holy shit, Vivian." She breathes out, her eyes wide. 

"This is bad." I squeeze my eyes shut, rubbing my face. "This is so, so bad, Sharise." 

"What're you gonna do?" She asks me. "I mean...when did you two even start…you know?" 

"September." I tell her. 

"Are you gonna admit it's Duff's or just play it off as Nikki's publicly and then privately it's gonna know Duff is really it's dad or does he even want anything to do with it?" 

"Yeah, he does, and Nikki's managing." I inform her, and she nods slowly. "It's nobody's business. It's not. So I shouldn't have to explain myself to anybody but I know everybody will want an explanation and we'll just admit it's Duff's and ignore the bullshit people are gonna throw at us...I just don't want to lose any friends over this…"

"If you lose friends over this, they're not your real friends, because everybody you're close with knows exactly what kind of marriage you and Nikki have been having the past year and you've both been struggling with different things and his affair with Vanity and so I think everybody should be pretty understanding of the situation." She tells me. 

"They should be. Doesn't mean they will." 

"Well, the ones who matter right now will." She reassures me. "And from what I've been gathering the last six months, that doesn't include Tommy and Vince right now because I already know they're probably gonna be on Nikki's side completely." 

"Yeah, so will all of the fans." I mumble. 

"Well, if you're gonna confirm it's Duff's, is he gonna come out and say that he actually did have an affair with Vanity or are you just gonna be the sacrificial lamb in all this?" 

"I have no idea, Sharise." I admit.

"I think he should." She states. "Because it's not gonna be fair for people to think you just went to another man and 'cheated' on Nikki out of nowhere." 

"It doesn't matter what Nikki says about the Vanity thing, he's just gonna be a God and I'm gonna be a whore." I argue, sighing out. 

"You really think that?" 

"I know that." I state, matter of fact. 

And, boy, was I right.

"Did you two talk about the relationship you have with your mother?" Amber asks Nikki. 

"I haven't had time to because we've been dealing with a lot of shit right now." He states. 

"Okay," she nods in understanding, because there's no way she hasn't heard what we're dealing with, now. "Do you want to talk about it now, then?" She asks. 

"Yeah, I can." He agrees. 

"Okay, go ahead." She leans back, letting him have the chance to talk to me.

He just stares at me, sighing out, looking as if he's struggling with talking to me about it. 

"Nikki, if you don't tell her, she can't understand." She adds and he rubs the back of his neck, looking at her to help him a little bit. 

"Start with dad," she suggests. 

"He left when I was little." He says to me. 

"And mom…" 

"...And mom started spiraling when he left." He explains. "She and whatever boyfriend she'd have at the time, would drop me off with Nona and Tom for months at a time, then when she'd come get me she'd be with a different man--sometimes married to them." He continues. "And, me being the smartass I am, when I get old enough to want to voice my opinion, I'd bump heads a lot with some of the dudes she brought around and things would get physical." He says next. "But, of course, she wouldn't feel like dealing with it because I was always ruining her partying anyway, so she'd send me off, again…things got really messy when I was, like, thirteen. Me and her got into it pretty bad and she started in on me and I told her I just wanted her to fuck off--I was just tired of it, so I hurt myself and called the cops and told them she attacked me, and she was arrested and I was sent back to Idaho to be with my grandparents." His voice shakes a little and I feel my heart hurt in my chest. 

I remember Nona telling me he and his mom had a lot of issues with each other, but I didn't think it was to that extent. 

"Have you talked to your dad at all?" I ask him, furrowing my brows a little and he rubs his chin, shaking his head a little. 

"I tried, like, ten years ago, and he told me he didn't have a son." He states. "Mom's always said I ran him off, but I was only two, so I know that's bullshit." He adds. 

"When I talked to you about all of this, it was very clear that you felt discarded, inadequate, and abandoned, because you have spent a good part of your childhood yearning for your mother's approval." Amber says. "Do you think that's true?" 

"Yeah." He nods. 

"Jumping through hoops at times to get it, but still being ditched with your grandparents while she went on and pretended she didn't have a little boy she needed to be responsible for."

He agrees, again, and she gives him a smile. 

"A woman is who her mother makes her to be and who her father says she is. A man is who his father makes him to be and who his mother says he is." She tells us. "And you didn't have a father around to make you, and all your mother told you was that you weren't appreciated, you weren't approved of, you weren't worthy of the love and attention you deserved." She states. "And you married a woman whose mother made her to strive for this unattainable level of perfection and have a complete come apart when it can't be reached, and a father who told her she wasn't worth the trouble it took to protect her." She tells us."I want to know--because it is so evident that you two carry so much resentment toward one another--what is one reason--out of many-- that it's there."  

"She's always looked down on me." Nikki says it. 

"Why?" 

"Because I don't live like she does." 

"Explain what that means." 

"She believes in God, I don't. She's spent our relationship sober, I haven't. She's more modest and conservative, I'm not."

"I don't resent you for not believing in a God and not being modest and conservative--those are a few of the things I respect about you, Nikki." I argue. 

"Bullshi--"

"--No, no, no cursing. Take a breath." Amber reassures him, calmly. 

"She hasn't let me do what I want to do. If I do what I want to do, she's on my throat over it or guilt tripping me or attacking me over it." He states. 

"Because all you've wanted to do the past three years is drugs, Nikki." I mumble. 

"Go back to guilt tripping." Amber tells him. "Does she put you on a guilt trip, or are you guilty after you do something you know she would not like for you to do and you beat yourself up for it?" She asks. 

"She just shuts down." 

"She shuts down?" 

She looks at me. 

"Why do you shut down when he does something you don't like?" 

"Because it's always drugs or something mean he does when he's on drugs, and I don't want to be around it, but most times I can't get away from it so I just go somewhere else, mentally." I admit. 

"And you see when she does that, and it makes you feel bad." Amber says to him. 

"Yeah." 

"That's not guilt tripping you, Nikki, that's her protecting herself because you won't." She points out. "Vivian, what's one of the reasons you carry resentment for him?"

"I'm not a priority." I tell her. 

"The amount of money I've spent on you since we got together, and you're not a priority?!" He asks me, pissed and shocked I have the audacity to say that. 

"Buying me a house and a new car and getting me nice things isn't showing me I'm a priority, Nikki, it's just you feeling bad for the shit you've done and buying me things to make yourself feel better for it. I'm grateful that you've made sure I've been taken care of in the sense that I've never gone hungry, I've never been out on the street, I've never had to go without utilities and hot water and things like that, and I've lived a spoiled life in terms of finances and the car I drive and the house we've lived in. You're a great provider--you just…we wouldn't be in this position if you didn't choose drugs over me." I say to him. 

"I haven't." He argues. 

"You blew off our wedding night to go to a party with Tommy." I remind him and Amber raises her brows. "Then you got in that accident on your way back home and hurt your shoulder and started smoking heroin to get through the pain so you could finish the album." I add and he rolls his jaw. "I love everything about you, except your drug abuse. And I've been so angry because there is no line with you. You just keep getting worse and worse and then turn around and convince yourself that I'm ungrateful and I don't approve of who you are because I'm perpetually bitter about the marriage I've been in--and it's all my fault in your eyes. Everything bad that's happened is all my fault." 

"I don't think that, I just put blame on you where it's due, you just refuse to see that you're a problem in all of this, too." He explains. 

"If you weren't on smack, we wouldn't have problems, Nikki." 

"Vivian." He says it as if saying, "you know that's bullshit." 

"What?" 

"The amount of times me or somebody would tell you to take your medication and you'd blow us off and just let yourself get more--"

"--You can't compare depression to drug addiction. Depression didn't turn me into a completely different person. You shot me, Nikki. You shot me. And that still didn't make you realize you needed to get sober." 

"You've physically assaulted me and other people, Vivian, in a frenzy, and still didn't see the issue with your mental state." 

"You've put your hands on me before, too, so don't make me sound like--"

"--I've grabbed you a few times and that's been when you were trying to beat me. So don't start that shit." He snaps. "The times I physically hurt you, I was doped up and wasn't thinking straight. The times you've physically hurt me and other people, you were sober, you just weren't taking your medicine. So you can keep saying that I chose drugs over you, but the amount of times you've chosen your pride and, 'I don't need to be on medicine,' over me is just as bad." He says. "If you weren't so damn angry all the time over tiny shit."

"No, no, it's not just her being angry over tiny things. It's you getting with a seventeen year old girl, and placing the responsibilities of a forty-one year old mother on her." She adds and he breathes out. "Your wife has been raising you the past seven years. She's your wife. She's not your mama. And you have been punishing her like she is. Her not wanting you to destroy yourself with drugs doesn't equate to the times your mother wouldn't let you dress the way you wanted to dress, or do the artistically productive things you wanted to do that she couldn't understand that you'd fight about. This woman was seventeen years old. You had no business being twenty-two and seeing a seventeen year old, let alone putting that much weight and expectation on her shoulders and getting angry and saying she didn't appreciate you because she didn't know how to handle it all while every year you'd push further and further." She goes on. "Years of anger and resentment and bitterness towards your mother, all turned loose on a girl who didn't cause any of it, just because she didn't want you running yourself into a grave." She adds, pointedly. "When me and you first started working together to get to the bottom of all of this, you told me that she went from worshipping the ground you walked on, to being an evil demon from hell--do you remember saying that?" 

He hesitantly replies, quietly, "yes." 

"Do you realize that you have done everything in your power to verbally, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually beat the hell out of the very girl who saw you as her God before she was even old enough to really know who God was?" She asks him. "All because the woman who made you feel like you weren't worth the trouble it took to stay around and raise you, was never there to answer for her actions so you started chopping at the next one in line."

"Okay, I get it, I'm fucked up, I fucked her up, I've ruined our marriage, it's all my fault, and she's the innocent angel who was seduced by me and dragged to hell, I get." He stands up. 

"Nikki," Amber starts. 

"Nikki," I say as he steps to the door, "we can't fix this if you--"

"--Yeah, fix this." He flicks me off before slamming the door. 

I grind my teeth and stomp after him, ignoring Amber's warning against it. 

"You are such an asshole!" I bark at him, following him. 

"Wow, I've never heard that one before!" He laughs humorlessly. 

"Nikki, seriously, she got all over me for being mad at you for sleeping with two-hundred girls, you can take her pointing out that you hate me because I remind you--"

"--I don't hate you, Vivian, alright?" He stops, turning to face me. 

"Well, you're really acting like it." I cross my arms. 

"I don't. I'm just pissed that you refuse to accept that I'm not the only problem in this shit show and if you wanna work on us you need to realize that you'r--"

"--Baby," I breathe out, grabbing at his hand and he rubs his forehead, "I know it's my fault, too, but it's just…" I blink back tears, looking away from him. 

"...Just what?" He asks. 

"Embarrassing." I wipe my eyes, sniffling. "It's embarrassing having to sit there, pregnant with another dude's baby, and tell a stranger about how I've abused my husband and people around me." 

"You think it's not embarrassing for me to sort through shooting you and strangling you and still not walking away from drugs?" He asks. "Don't even get me started on having to tell you I've cheated that many fucking times and even had a mistress?" He adds…"I think I've embarrassed myself, and you, more than you've embarrassed yourself and me." 

"I'm pregnant. And it's gone public. And it's not yours. And it's gone public. I think I've won with which one of us has embarrassed the other the most." I mumble. 

"Well, I'm not embarrassed. Those people don't know shit." He tells me, furrowing his brows. 

"I am." I say, trying not to cry again. 

I'm taken back a little when he hugs me, tightly…"Why didn't you tell me about your mom?" I him, my face in his chest, tears rolling down my cheeks. 

"Because I didn't want to bother you with it." He says. 

"I wouldn't have been bothered by it, Nikki." I sniffle, looking up at him. 

He blinks a couple times and breathes out. 

"There's a basket on the closet shelf at home with several of my journals in it." He explains. "Filled with things I didn't want to bother you with." He adds. "I really think if you feel too embarrassed or ashamed, reading those will prove my point that I've been worse than you have." He admits. 

"I'm pregnant--"

"--I know you are." He grabs the sides of my face, looking me in the eyes. "Just read them if you want to, but I say a lot of shit in there I wrote when I was high, so there's your warning." He adds. 

"Are you sure you want me to read them?" I ask. 

"Yeah." 

***I wish he would've said, "no," because I screwed myself over while reading them.***

NIKKI 

I turned into a senseless moron the second she got ahold of my hand, looked at me with watery, pretty eyes, and said, "baby." 

I would've let a train hit me if I knew it would've made her feel less embarrassed and ashamed. I didn't think reading my journals would've made her feel better--just help her gain an understanding that she's the smart one out of the two of us…

If this was one year ago, I'd have her face down on a mattress, making up for our argument. 

But obviously that isn't much of a solution...so I just pull away and smile with my teeth at her the best I can, feeling better when her thumbs graze over my dimples and she smiles, too. 

"I'm sorry I was rude in there." She tells me, next. 

"I'm sorry for being an asshole." I reply, honestly…

"Do you really think I look down on you because you don't believe the same things I do?" 

"Sometimes, I guess." I admit to her. 

"I don't." She tells me. "I never really have." She adds. "I just don't like when you make fun of it or mock it." 

"...Yeah, 'Wild Side' was kinda a dick move…" I tell her and she looks at me. 

"A catchy dick move." She says. "And I like the song, I just wish you wouldn't have made it simply to spite me for the most part." 

"I'll try not to use my powers for evil against you again." I assure her…"But you gotta quit using sex to try to get out of stuff, and I will, too." I say next. "This shit's so hard because we don't talk about stuff, and we never have, and it's just better to go ahead and embarrass ourselves and talk about it instead of trying to fix it with something we can obviously go get from other people--and have gone and gotten from other people."

"And we can't blow up on each other when we do try to talk and work things out." She adds. "So no screaming at each other." 

"And no hitting." I say. 

"Ever." She agrees.

I hold my pinkie out to her and she smiles softly, taking it with hers before I kiss her cheek and pull her to me again.

I didn't know, a week from then, I'd be screaming up a storm from learning about seven fucking miscarriages from '83 to '87 that she didn't tell me about.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Four [PT.2]

Words: 2k

Warning(s): explicit language

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VIVIAN

"Who was that?" Mandy asks me as I hang up the phone after talking to Nikki.

"Nikki." I reply, helping her get the straps on her dress adjusted. 

She doesn't look like a conventional bride in her satin black dress that reaches just below her thighs. 

"Looks pretty." I tell her. 

"Thanks." She replies. 

I think for a moment before clearing my throat. 

"Are you nervous at all?" I ask her and she looks at me. 

"No? Should I be?" 

"I mean, it's just a big step, you know?"

"Not any bigger than already living together. It's not gonna change much." She says. "It's just a silly piece of paper to me." She admits. "I'm doing this for him, he's always wanted to get married--don't get me wrong, I have, too--but it's never been on my absolutely priority list like it's on his." She explains. 

"If it's just a silly piece of paper, why does it take so long to get it annulled, or divorce finalized?" I ask her and she furrows her brows. 

"There's a lot that goes into marriage, Mandy, and it does change things to an extent. But it's a good change." I assure her. 

"No offense, Vivian, but shouldn't you be worried about your own marriage before you worry about mine?" She asks me, a little aggravated. 

I get aggravated right back. 

"I didn't mean anything by it, Amanda. I just think you shouldn't marry him because he wants marriage more than you do and you want to make him happy. You marry him because you love him and you want to do it without the pressure of living up to a standard he subconsciously has placed on you. I'm just trying to look out for both of you because I'm his friend and I'm--"

"--Trust me, I'm well aware." She cuts me short. 

"Then act like it and don't talk to me like that in my own fucking house." I snap. 

She just stares at me and I stare at her. 

"You know what? I need to get going. I've gotta run to town. Thanks for your help." She says flatly, getting the dress back off and pulling her clothes on.

When she gets to the door she stops and turns to me. 

"I get it. You're carrying his kid and I'm the woman he proposed to when you wouldn't stay with him. I wasn't trying to be a bitch. I'm just trying to fucking adjust to this shit, because it's hard on me, Vivian. This whole clusterfuck is really fucking hard on me." 

"Like it's easy for me?" I ask her, scoffing. 

"I have to know I'm second to him, Vivian. Do you know how much that fucking hurts? And he swears up and down I'm first, I'm a priority, but I know I'm not. I know if both of us was fucking dying and he could only save one, he'd choose you." 

"Well, like you said, I'm the one pregnant with his kid, so…" I blurt it without a thought and immediately regret it. 

She just looks hurt--betrayed even--and slams the door shut on her way out before she gets to her car and squeals out of the driveway. 

"Shit." I say to myself. "Vivian, you shouldn't have fucking said that...what have you done?" 

I figured Duff would call shortly after and scold me. Little did I know the phone call would be skipped altogether.

"What the hell, Vivian?!" Duff says, slamming my door shut and I jump a little, looking at him as he comes to me in the living room. 

"I didn't mean to say what I said." I tell him. 

"Didn't mean to say it?! You basically told her you were more important because you're knocked up with my baby!"

"Am I not?" I ask him, raising my brows. 

"That doesn't mean you're more important to me, Vivian. That doesn't mean Mandy's second place right now. You're both important to me in different ways!"

"Oh, so if I told you Nikki and I were done and I wanted to be with you, you wouldn't leave her within a matter of days and be with me?" 

"Not with you acting like this." He declares. 

"Like what?"

"Like fucking--" He stops talking before he says something he'll regret, before huffing out a breath of air… "You're jealous, and I get that, but you're not treating Mandy like shit just because you think you have the upper hand, right now." 

"I didn't treat her like shit, I just said--" 

"--I know what you said. She told me what you said. I love you, but I'm not doing the petty cat-fight drama so cut it out." He states sternly. "And if you wanna play the, 'I'm carrying his baby' card, that's fine. Be the woman I just got pregnant. But she'll always be the one I married."

"She's also the one hammering screwdrivers with you at brunch, I've heard." I tell him, crossing my arms, trying not to be hurt by his words. 

"Whatever makes you feel a million miles taller than everybody else, Viv." He gives up, heading to the door before turning to look at me. "You're taking your medication like you're supposed to, right?" 

"Go fuck yourself." I snap. 

"That's what I thought." He says sharply. 

"You can leave now." I say, defensively. 

I thought that was that...thought.

"I just missed a dose or two, Nikki, honestly." I tell him the next morning, not necessarily telling the truth but also not lying completely. 

"Vivian, we're not doing this shit where you don't take your medication, again." He tells me. 

"I'm not doing it, Nikki." 

"And I've heard some shit about fucking lithium and you don't need to just miss any doses if you can help it. It can fuck your body up and if it can do that to you it sure as shit can hurt the baby." 

"Nikki, I didn't miss any doses on purpose, I just forgot." 

"Right, like you forgot to take your Nardil for three months in a row at times." 

"Can you hop off, Nikki, I mean, seriously. I'm trying here." 

"I'm not trying to get on to you, Viv, I just want you to take this serious."

"I do." I insist. 

"Then why is Duff telling me you went off on Mandy and him?" 

"Oh, he told you that, too? Along with my lack of taking my medicine on time?" 

"He's worried, Vivian."

"He should be. He's fucking his life up by marrying her." 

"Vivian." He snaps and I look at him, sighing. 

"We broke up. And within a few weeks, he's engaged to her, Nikki. They're getting married in two months, did you know that? Who the hell gets married five months after they have a breakup from someone they were in love with? Not to mention his drinking." 

"So what if the guy had a few screwdrivers at breakfast or whatever? I've seen Sharise throw back mimosas at ten in the morning before." 

"Champagne and orange juice is a lot different than straight vodka and orange juice, Nikki." I state. 

"Alcohol is alcohol." He reminds me. "And besides, he's probably drinking because he's under a lot of pressure with the band right now, and you're catching a lot of shit right now, and he's got a lot on his mind." He adds. 

"I do, too, but I'm not rushing into a marriage to try to convince myself I'm making the right decision." I mumble. 

"Nah, I think you and I both did enough of that five years ago." He replies and I realize what I said, and look at him pointedly. 

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I didn't say you did. I just think maybe you're taking something out on him because you don't want him to me the same mistake we did." He suggests. 

"Oh, so you're the therapist now or something?" 

He just stares at me with a little smirk, his eyes searching mine. 

"I'm gonna blame the exponential amount of bitchiness on the pregnancy." Is all he says before trying to get up.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I say, reaching out and grabbing his wrist, and he looks at me and sits back down. "I'm sorry, Nikki, alright?" 

"There's a reason I wanted to talk to you, I didn't just bring you down here so you could start a fight." He raises his brows. "I wanted to talk to you about something important." 

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and he rubs his face. "Look, about the whole sex thing…" 

My face burns with embarrassment and I let out a breath. 

"I don't wanna talk about it, Nikki. Let's just forget it happened." I tell him. 

"No, don't do that, Viv, it's not anything to be--"

"--I cried and whined over not getting dick. Yes, it is something to be embarrassed about. So let's just not even acknowledge it happened." 

"You were crying and whining because I, your husband, wouldn't be intimate with you. It has nothing to do with sex itself, but the feeling that comes with it--at least that's what Amber told me." He tells me. 

I just smile at the fact he's actually paying attention to his therapist instead of blowing off her intel. 

"I guess you're right." I reply. 

"And I'm sorry for that…it's not like I just found out about the baby. I've known it since you told me. I agreed to work this out with you, you know? So I shouldn't have thrown it in your face that I'm not attracted to you because of the baby thing."

"Well...are you not attracted to me?" 

"The first session we had I was trying to get you on Amber's desk, Viv." He reminds me, chuckling. 

"That was before you knew I was pregnant, Nikki." 

"...It was?" 

"I think it was." 

"...oh…" 

"Look, I'm just as attracted to you now as I was when we first met." He assures me. 

"You hated me when we first met."

"Doesn't mean I didn't wanna get you under me." He shrugs. 

"Oh, whatever." I roll my eyes and he grins. 

"My point is that I'm sorry for making you feel like something's wrong with you or you're undesirable or something. The truth is, Amber suggested that we wait on having sex for a while until we're mentally stable enough to separate sex and intimacy from problem solving and apologies." 

"...And you agree with her?" I raise a brow, not believing my ears. 

Since when the hell does Nikki Sixx take marriage advice from anybody? 

"Yeah, I guess I do." He shrugs.

I just scoff.

"Viv, you said it yourself multiple times the past few years that sex doesn't solve anything." 

"I meant using sex as a means to brush things under the rug. Not just happy-go-lucky-'we aren't just doing this to keep our marriage from falling apart'-sex." 

"Was there a difference in the two by 1986?" He raises his brows and I'm about to argue some more, but he has a point.

"I'm trying, Viv. You know I am. I haven't tried barely at all, and you know that, too, so please, let's just see if this works." He pleads. 

"So, what, we're just not gonna do anything until we get our crap together?" 

"That's a good way to put it, yeah." He nods. 

Despite it being an inconvenience, it'd be well worth it. Maybe if we aren't so focused on getting each other's bones jumped, it'll give us time to actually grow up, some. 

"Okay, Nikki." I agree and he looks relieved.

I made a very deliberate point to stop by Amber's office on the way out.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Three [PT. 1]

Words: 3k

Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse

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NIKKI

1987

I throw another drink back not long after yelling obscurities at Viv as she stomped out of VIP to leave and go home, between more lines of blow, a trip to the bathroom to get a fix and some drinks, we decide to take the party to Steven's new place. 

"You guys just can't be too loud, though, got it?" He says as sternly as he can as we get inside and he fumbles for his key. 

"Alright, alright, alright," I mumble, stepping inside, grabbing his bottle of Jack off the counter before getting comfortable on the floor by the window. 

We all talk--as best we can--for a little while, Steven and the boys making some calls to get some dealers here, and the only thing on my mind is getting a potent fix, until I hear something...very faint, very familiar...very, very, familiar...I furrow my brows to focus more, ignoring the guys' laughter and voices, my eyes training on the wall opposite of me. 

My subconscious puts it together before my conscious does, like smelling a blanket from a childhood home and immediately being taken back before your brain can quite grasp the feeling. 

Multiple memories shrouding that sound of Vivian that only she can really pull off. 

It doesn't take rocket science equation solving skills to put together why I'm currently hearing her soft, pretty moans carry on next door. 

I'm pretty sure more members of Guns, aside from Steven, are staying here right now. 

Apparently Stevie hears it not long after and slips into the next suite, where the sound is coming from, that's connected to his suite. 

I don't hear it anymore after he gets back in here. 

"Dealer's coming or what?" I ask Steven, my high starting to get blowed from the fact that my wife is next door on her back for someone who isn't me. 

I'd be jealous if I weren't numb to it by now.

"They're all tied up, man." Steven tells me and I groan, thinking for a second. 

An idea comes to mind that makes me want to bang my head against the wall, but I'm desperate and left with no option at this point. 

"I know a guy," I mumble, dragging myself up to the phone in the little kitchen area, reluctantly dialing a number I never wanted to dial again. 

It rings once...twice...three times… 

"Hello?" He answers and I roll my eyes. 

"'Sup man, it's Nikki." I reply, trying to put on my best "friendly" voice, even though it's making my blood boil that the bastard I could see myself killing is ultimately the one that's gonna be able to save the day. 

"Hey, dude." He replies. 

"Me and a few buddies of mine are out here at the Franklin Plaza Suites and need a few things." I rub the back of my neck. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

It's quiet, and he reluctantly breathes out. 

"I'll see what I can do." I can hear the satisfaction in his voice that I'm having to call him. 

Within the next forty minutes there's more people here than I'm comfortable with, groupies, and hangerson, and other drug adoring morons, and then my saving grace comes through the door once Steven lets him in. 

Slash is already slipping into a Jack induced stupor. Sally came in a few minutes ago screaming at all of us guys for leaving her at the Cat House. 

We didn't even realize we'd forgotten her. 

She's in the bathroom, probably keeping herself in there to keep from starting an argument with Slash in front of everyone. 

Robbin's on the phone with Laurie.

Apparently it's just in men's nature to get fucked up, call our wives, and profess our undying love for them despite the fact we cheat on them nearly every time we hangout with our friends. 

I wonder what would happen if I went in there on her and Duff right now. 

What would she say? 

Probably nothing. 

She'd just look at the floor and try not to cry, probably. 

What would I do? 

I know that I know what's going on between them, but if I actually walked in and saw them together, caught in the act…

I'd either be a pussy and cry over it, or kill them both--him first and make her watch, and then just slowly torture her or something. God, I'm fucked up. Even though I'm pretty sure being married to me is torture enough to her. 

I know it's torture to me, too. 

"Here dude," Sparkie hands me a syringe and a spoon, and I look at him, too out of focus to concentrate on getting it right. 

"Fix me." I say to him and he scoffs. 

"Okay, dude." He starts getting it ready and I look at that wall again. Staring at it, taking a sip of my drink. 

Fucking Vivian. 

Of course. Her. Of all the women I've hooked up with and dated in my life, she--the most harmless, at least in my dumbfuck mind when I first met her--is the one to screw me over like this. 

And I've let her. 

If I did what Vince does to Sharise and have that whole, "no hanging out with your boy friends without me" rule, this wouldn't even be an issue. 

That's the problem. Somewhere along the way I loosened her leash a little too much and now she's chewed her way through it entirely. 

"You look like you're in hell, you know," Sparkie tells me, fixing the tourniquet around my arm… "But that's okay, you're about to be in heaven in just a few seconds." He assures me. 

I know he's right. I just need to hang on to that. 

In just a few seconds, I'll be--

I hear Vivian, again, and I reach around my neck and grab onto her cross I've been wearing for weeks, now, squeezing it at the sting of the needle going into my skin. 

I feel him shoot me up, my mind waiting to chase and catch the high that I just know is about to come. 

My fingers slip from the crucifix, and I feel myself fall back before a weightless feeling washes over me.

Present

I keep rereading the damn paper, repeatedly, trying my hardest not to throw a fit...

Nikki Sixx and his wife, Vivian, recently confirmed that she is indeed pregnant issuing a simple and straightforward,"Yes, it's true," statement earlier this week through Nikki's manager, and--as speculated--her pregnancy is not with Nikki. Many fans and some friends of the couple are blown out of the water by this sudden turn of events, others who are familiar with the rockstar and his band but never really paid much attention to his personal relationships, are now curious as to who exactly Vivian Sixx is. Well, in an open letter, rumored to be intended for print in Rolling Stone, a few anonymous former roadies of Mötley Crüe--who partook on their Girls, Girls, Girls, tour in 1987--are here to introduce who they saw behind the scenes of flashing cameras and public sweet moments with husband Nikki. 

"This is a letter to Mötley Crüe fans, we're a mere handful of people out of the many who witnessed monstrosities behind the scenes while on tour with the Crüe since Summer of 1987, none of which were caused by the band or any members, themselves, but one woman in particular. We had no reason to really bring any of this up, but in light of recent news, we are disheartened and angered of the betrayal against one of the four men who gave us an opportunity to live several months in our lives that will forever impact us in the best way known, and provide heartwarming memories by the dozen. This is not an attack on Nikki Sixx, especially given his past struggles with opioid addiction, alcoholism, as well as his abusive wife. The first time we met Vivian, she was polite and friendly, but very assertive. It was obvious it would be her way or no way,  and often times she and Nikki would go back and forth with who was running things. It was obvious Nikki was unwell at times, whether it'd be hungover, sick from withdrawal or simply tired from a show the night before. Vivian would choose these times when he was at his most exhausted to pick fights with him. He'd tell her to go away or 'f**k off,' and she'd continue to verbally and mentally beat him down more than he clearly already was. When Rolling Stone came to interview the band shortly after the wild rumor Vanity started publicly, we were told Vivian had tried to physically attack the reporter working on the story, simply because he made the comment that Pepsi wasn't good for her. Small things like that would often set her off, leaving security, managers, and band members to try to dodge fists while pulling her off of her unsuspecting victim, who was typically Nikki. Many times we'd hear them arguing in the hotel rooms, dressing rooms, bathrooms, tour bus, etc., usually followed by sounds of what we can only describe as 'pitchy, hungry, pornstar moans' on her part--clearly using her body to get back in his good graces after wearing him down. After their fights, Nikki would always have a bottle of alcohol on hand, some kind of drug, and would keep to himself. Our comradery with him soon began to dwindle with each month because it was obvious she was beginning to suck the life out of him. He was more introverted overtime, and higher more often than he was at the beginning of the tour. It really got bad when Guns N' Roses came on tour for a month, because Vivian's attacks on him and the other members of Mötley Crüe, began to pop off as randomly and explosively as fireworks. We'd witness some foul exchange (brought on by Vivian)  between her and Nikki backstage, either verbal or physical, nearly every night. People can talk down on the Crüe for being bad boys, but they've shown everybody that's helped them on tour, gratitude. All the wives and girlfriends that would come on that we'd offer food and drinks to would always express gratitude with a smile and a warm heart, but Vivian would always stay silent and cold towards us. She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her. We aren't surprised that she's pregnant, she probably video taped herself conceiving the damn thing and sent it to Nikki. We hope she did so it can be practice  for her inevitable low-budget porn career when she runs out of rockstars to f**k and kill, as we've mentioned, she already sounds like one in the throws of passion. Anyway, Nikki, we're hoping you decide to kick her aside and start fresh. Duff, get a paternity test, dude. Crüe fans, don't let that red-headed bitch fool you."

"Who the hell is Page Six to give these bastards a platform in the first place, Doc?!" I snap.

"Nikki, I am handling it, I'm on it--"

"--You tell the L.A. Times and Rolling fucking Stone if they take this shit and run with it, too, I'm personally coming to their offices and fucking them up. Not the publications themselves, but the people trying to put this out there in print, individually." I hiss.

"Nikki, just--" 

"--And who the hell--what roadies did this?!" 

"I don't know, Nikki, but I'm trying my hardest to get it cleaned up." He assures me. 

"'She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her'?!" I read that snippet, just so he can be reminded how fucked this is, trying my hardest not to start pitching a fucking fit. 

"Fucking AJaxx isn't even cleaning this up! Press mongrels are gonna be humping these bastards legs for giving them sales for the next nine months!" I outburst. 

"Sixx, don't worry about it, alright? It won't go past this shitty Page Six story, okay?" 

"It's fucking horse shit." I ignore him, trying to keep my cool. "Fuck." I kick at the leg of the table, running a hand through my hair.

"I guess one decently positive thing is that Viv doesn't know about this," he says next and I shake my head a little, feeling a migraine starting to come on, strong. 

I was tempted then to check myself out of rehab and 'handle' it myself, but decided it wouldn't be worth it. I hoped it would go away and it would all blow over eventually.

"Vivian, don't listen to any of it, alright? Me and you and everyone on that tour know damn well it wasn't just you being a bitch and us being the innocent victims." I say through the phone as Viv tries to calm down, her breathing shaky and ragged from crying so much. 

"I know that but the fans and other people don't know that." She says to me, her voice quiet and tired. "I'm so embarrassed, Nikki." She adds. "I'm already embarrassed that everybody knows I cheated on you but now this whole thing…" she trails off and I feel guilt tug at my heart. 

I don't know what the fuck to say. 

I'm used to criticism from the press, but none of them have tore into me or any of the guys--except Vince after the Razzle accident--so personally and extensively as they're tearing at her. 

Calling me a devil worshipper and saying my music is shitty gets annoying and frustrating and even infuriating at times, but attacking my wife and calling her a low budget porn star and telling me to kick her aside? 

Fuck that. 

"I'm sorry, Viv. I really am." I assure her, honestly, closing my eyes when I hear her stifle a little sob out. "Where are you at right now?" I ask. 

"Duff wanted me to meet his family." She tells me. "I'll be back Saturday." 

I'm relieved she actually has a reason for not being here, but I'm also hurt that she didn't give me a heads up. But I don't want to talk about it right now. I think she's been punished enough today. 

"Okay...you didn't show yesterday and I was just worried." I admit. 

"I know, it was just a spur of the moment thing. He asked me last week and I didn't think it'd be an issue." 

"Oh." 

I glance around and let out a breath. 

"I, um, I'm gonna go. I got a group thing with the guys at 3:00." I tell her. 

"Okay." 

"Are you gonna be okay or do I need to break out and kick someone's ass?" I ask her, half-joking, and she laughs, making me smile. 

"I'll be okay." She tells me. 

"I'll see you next week, Sixx." 

I can practically hear the smile in her voice when she says, "see you next week." 

We hang up and I rub my lips together, taking a few deep breaths before heading to where me and the guys meet with Amber three times a week now. 

Tommy and Vince are waiting for me, and I plop down beside them, leaning forward, elbows on my knees, hands running over my face…

"Psst," Tommy nudges me and I look at him as Vince gets up to grab a cup of coffee. 

"What?" I ask him, and he puts his finger over his mouth. 

"You seen the shit they're on Vivian for?" He whispers and I furrow my brows, looking around. 

"The room is empty except us, dude, why are you--"

"--Shh," he says. 

"Why are you whispering?" I finish my sentence. 

"Because they probably have this motherfucker bugged out the ass." He replies, glancing around again. "I'm thinking of breaking outta here, man." He whispers very, very quietly. 

"You do know we're not being held here by legal obligation, right? They won't chase us down and have the cops on us if we just check ourselves out." I point out and he furrows his brows a little. 

"Oh." 

"Why do you wanna 'break out'?" I ask. 

"I miss Heather and my dogs and I wanna be able to be there Viv, dude. She fucking needs us right now and we're, like, over an hour away--disconnected from shit. I mean we wouldn't even know what the fuck was going on in the world if Doc wasn't keeping us in the loop, ya know?" 

I think about it for a second. 

"We're over a month into our three month stay, dude." I state. "We can't just throw in the towel, now." 

"I don't mean ditch it and stay gone. I just mean check out for a few days, go back home, see what all is going on and come back." He shrugs. 

It seems oddly appealing. 

Way too appealing, actually. 

"I don't know, Tommy…" I rub the back of my neck.

"I already talked to Vince about it and he's down."

"Of course he is." 

"And we wouldn't be doing it tomorrow or anything. I'm thinking next week." 

"Does Doc know?" I ask. 

"Fuck Doc." He scoffs. 

"Agreed." I nod, chuckling. 

"So, you in or not, man?" 

"Just for a few days?" 

"Just for a few days." 

"Then we're all coming back in?" 

"Like we never left to begin with." 

"No drugs, no parties, not even alcohol." 

"Just spending time with our families and then back to the grindstone." He states. 

"...I'm in."

 ...You know when you're on a shitty diet, eating boring, tasteless, "healthy" food, and then decide you've been stuck to your diet long enough that you can have one slice of cake because you're disciplined enough to control yourself? And now, two years later, you're still telling yourself you'll get back on your diet because after that slice of cake you just said, "fuck it," and never thought about forcing yourself to eat lettuce again? Let's just say leaving rehab prematurely works the same damn way.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Four [PT.1]

Words: 3.1k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of substance abuse

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NIKKI 

"My wife doesn't tell me she's having an important surgery done, no, no, she just tells her girl friend Sharise who tells Vinnie and I'm the last one to fucking know about it." I tell Amber. 

"I didn't wanna stress him out." Vivian insists, raising her brows. 

"No, you just don't wanna keep me in the know just to piss me off." I argue. 

"Nikki, go to hell." She tells me. 

"You're not talking to him like that in here," Amber scolds her. "Just like he's not talking to you like that. We aren't doing that anymore. That was the issue last week. I didn't stop you two from talking trashy to each other and it got you where you are right now." She states. "Vivian, why didn't you tell Nikki about your procedure?" 

"I didn't even tell the father of my kid I was having it done--I'm just a private person." She tells her. 

"Duff doesn't even know?" 

"No, he doesn't, and he's not going to." She looks at me. 

Note to self: call Duff when she leaves. 

"Why haven't you him?" Amber asks her next. 

"Because I was freaking out over it enough as it was. I didn't need more people freaking out over it." She says. "So I just told Sharise because she was the one driving me home from it."

Amber just raises her brows and thinks for a second, her lips pursed. 

"You see what I have to deal with?" I ask as I motion to Viv. 

"Nikki, please." Vivian rolls her eyes. 

"And she wonders why I won't fuck her. She doesn't deserve it at the moment." I add. 

"Your dick isn't made of gold, Nikki, it's some trophy I should have to earn--especially when you clearly have no qualms tossing it around like a hot potato from one pussy to the next." 

"That's not how you were acting last week." I argue. "

"But you won't fuck me because I'm not Vanity." She says back. 

"I won't fuck you because the thought of screwing a pregnant chick makes my skin crawl." I admit. 

"You'll go down on me while I'm on the rag but me being eleven weeks pregnant--barely showing--is where you draw the line?" 

"Right, sorry, 'I won't fuck you because the thought of screwing a pregnant chick makes my skin crawl when she's pregnant with a baby she cheated on me to conceive,' there, that's better." I correct myself. 

"At least I know the lovechild I have, exists. Do I even wanna think about the girls you've probably knocked up across the globe the last several years?" She accuses me. 

"Unlike you, dear, I know how to fucking use condoms." I cut back at her.

"Gee, can't imagine where I learned to hate condoms in the first place." She sarcastically adds. 

"Fuck if I know, you were telling me to take the damn thing off the first time we even had sex, little miss, 'I'm a virgin', 'this is my first time,' which looking back now is so obviously bullshit." I scoff. 

"I was until you fucking corrupted me." 

"My apologies, I didn't realize I was creating a cum monster whose main ambition was to procreate." 

"And I didn't realize I was creating a codependent junkie." She doesn't hesitate to throw back at me and we're both silent just enough for Amber to cut in. 

"I am going to give you two homework." She says, sighing, glancing at the clock. 

We're out of time. 

"I want you two to write each other a letter, one that doesn't involve putting one another down, and I want you to pick a time--any experience or memory with on another--that you consider the happiest you've been with each other, and I want you to mail them to each other, and next visit you'll read each other's letters back to one another to remind that person what they wrote. Sound easy?"

We just look at each other, not saying a word. 

I didn't want to waste my time writing something for her that she'd just rip up without reading, and I knew she would, and I could see she didn't want to do that, either.

I'm great at song writing...but love letters? 

I think back to the last love letter I wrote for Viv...the one in the back of her Bible I gave to her. 

It kind of hurts that one of the last physical confessions of love I gave to her was practically a suicide note. 

I close my eyes and groan, rubbing my forehead. 

Fuck.

I try to think back to my happiest time with her over the last years. 

Like flicking through the index of my mind--as best as I can, at least…

I let out a heavy sigh as I flip from channel to channel, chewing my gum, getting frustrated when I can't find anything interesting to watch. 

"Are you gonna find a channel and stick to it or are you gonna keep flipping through the same channels and expect programming to change in a matter of seconds?" Vivian asks in a borderline snap, getting aggravated with me. 

I just roll my jaw and turn the T.V. off, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. 

"I didn't say turn it off, Nikki, you can watch T.V., just pick a channel and stick to it." She sighs, her Bible still in hand, the pad she's using to take notes in, in her lap. 

"No. You just read your shit in peace and quiet. Sorry for the interruption." I reply, passively. 

"Nikki, turn the T.V. back on and watch it." 

"I'm good." I state. 

"Ugh, you are such a whiney baby." She mumbles and I raise my brows, looking at her. 

"I'm a what?" I ask, and she looks at me. 

"A whiney baby." 

"A whiney baby?" 

"Yeah." She says it surely. 

I'm grabbing her socked foot that's in my lap, making her squeal, her Bible and notepad falling in the floor when she kicks at me as I start tickling her foot. 

"Nikki, stop!" She laughs out, sitting up and trying to fight me off of her. 

"No, I'm a whiney baby remember?" I remind her, letting her foot go, getting on top of her, my hands moving to her waist, making her laugh again, trying to push me off of her. 

I lean down and kiss her exposed neck, and stop tickling her, instead wrapping my arm under her, pulling her against me, settling between her legs. 

She sighs and kisses me when I lean down to her. 

Once we pull away for air, I run my thumb over her lip and she blinks up at me, slowly. 

I can tell she's thinking, "what the hell is this? What are we doing? We aren't dating, we're not just friends, though, so what are we, Sixx?" 

I don't know, either. 

I'd tell her that but I don't want to freak her out or something. 

I like her, a lot...more than a lot…

"What is it?" She asks me, and I realize I've just been staring at her. 

"I, uh...I'm not really seeing anyone else anymore, you know?" I say, hoping she gets the hint, and she raises her brows a little. 

"Oh." She replies.

"Not that it's a big deal or anything." I add. 

"I wasn't thinking it was." She shakes her head a little...but I can practically see her doing little mental cartwheels and screaming out with joy. 

I just smile at her, kissing her again.

I wrinkle my nose at the memory, not quite sure if that's when I was at my happiest with her. 

I just decide to keep digging through more of my memory--what's left of it, that is--until I'm grabbing my pen, and writing away at the paper. 

"Shhh, shh, you're gonna wake her up!" Vivian whisper yells at me as she holds a sleeping Skylar, the little baby wrapped up in a thick blanket, pacifier in mouth, knocked out cold.

"It's nearly 5:00a.m., what the hell are you doing up?" I ask her, trying to talk straight after a night of booze and blow. 

"She hasn't slept since midnight. I've been trying everything but she just dozes for a few minutes and then wakes back up and whines." She explains.

She looks tired...exhausted, really. 

"You want me to hold her and you go to bed?"

"She doesn't like you, the second she gets the feelings you're holding her, she'll wake you screaming." She reminds me. 

"She likes me." I argue. 

"Nikki, she purposely pees on you anytime you change her diaper, she gets antsy when you hold her--not to mention the amount of times you weren't paying attention and put her clothes on backwards or inside out and she pitches a fit." 

"Hey, trying to dress a squirmy kid is military-grade patience training. If you try to perfect whatever it is she's wearing, she gets irritated and just wants down and starts moving around more and making it more difficult to get some clothes on her." She just chuckles a little and gets quiet in the light of the little reading lamp, her eyes closing slowly. 

"Viv," 

"Hmm?"

"Go put the baby in the little crib thing Sharise brought over and go lay down." I tell her, quietly. 

"I'm fine where I'm at." She insists, but I know she's not. 

I take the chance and gently pick Skylar up, causing Vivian to say, "Nikki, don't wake her up," and I carefully make sure not to wake her as I carry her to the guest bedroom and put her in her playpen on her back like Sharise drilled into mine and Viv's heads to be sure of. 

She doesn't wake up, and when I get back to the living room, Vivian's asleep in her chair, cuddled under the blanket she had Skylar under. 

"Alright," I nudge her awake and she hums, furrowing her brows. "C'mon," I say to her, and she reaches her hands out. "What is it?" I ask her. 

"Can you carry me?" She asks and I sigh out. 

"Yeah, baby," I don't tell her, 'no,' despite not knowing whether or not we'll get to the bedroom because I'm tired and I know she obviously is, too, and she's not light as a feather--which will just make me more tired by the time I head to the bedroom. 

I scoop her up and make it to the bed, only nearly dropping her once due to losing my footing--which that's not her fault. That's just the evidence of my night out. 

When I lay her on the bed and pull my clothes off, crawling in beside her, she's snuggling up to me under the covers.

"You smell good." She mumbles to me. 

"I don't know how. I smell like cologne, sweat, and booze." I mumble back, my eyes closed. 

"You smell good." She repeats it. 

"You do, too." I reply. 

"I showered. You should try it some time." She says. 

"Okay, Sixx, don't make me whoop your ass at five in the morning." I tell her, keeping my eyes closed, and she giggles, pressing her lips to my cheek, and my jaw, her nails trailing down my chest to my abdomen, deliberately running over the trail of hair leading down to my…

"It's five in the morning." I groan out, biting back a moan when her hand wraps around me, another kiss being pressed to my cheek. 

"We can be done in a couple minutes." She tells me. 

"I thought you were tired." I reply, trying to wake myself back up being that a certain part of me is up and alert. I rake my hands down my face as she straddles me, before looking up at her. "You're like those spiders that wait for the males to be vulnerable then they fuck 'em and kill 'em." I add, despite my hands running up her thighs to her waist…

"You always complain about early morning sex but then by seven o'clock you're the one not letting me tap out." She reminds me. 

I just grab her hips and push her off of me before getting on her, making her laugh before my mouth catches hers, my teeth bitting at her lip before my tongue smoothes over it, making her moan softly. 

By the time we're finished and satisfied, I'm getting off of her with deep breaths, the both of us gasping for air, covered in sweat--even our hair. 

We don't hear Skylar down the hall which is a good sign that she's still asleep. 

It's weird having a baby in the house. I know it's temporary, until Vince and Sharise get back from their little Florida getaway, but it's odd taking care of someone else aside from Vivian.

I wonder what it would be like if Viv would've actually been pregnant when we got married like she thought she was. 

We'd have a two year old by now. 

How fucking bizarre would that be raising a kid in this life at the moment. 

Sure, Vince is doing it, but that's because Sharise is solid as a fucking rock. 

I'd take a bullet for Vivian--fucking die for her--but she's not solid like that, not right now, at least. She used to be. 

I mean she's still sober as shit but sobriety doesn't help much when you're wired even though you don't have a drop of anything in your system.

Look at me, like I'm one to be talking about dependability.

I look over at her, she's passed out, damp red hair across her pillow, covers pulled over her shoulder…

I reach over and run my fingertips across her cheek, the palm of my hand moving up to smooth over her hair as rays of sun start to filter through the small parting in the blackout curtains.

I'd love to have a kid in a couple years--maybe even within the next year--it just depends on the band, whether we're where we need to be by then or not...whether me and Viv are where we need to be or not, too. 

Which as of right now, we're great. 

We're more than great. 

We haven't argued in two weeks. 

Two fucking weeks. 

Who the hell goes that long without arguing? Certainly not us, but here we are. 

We weren't fighting as much because we were having sex like bunnies. I'm talking at least twice a day--Twice. A. Day. For two and a half weeks. 

Looking back, I know it's because she was in the wake of a miscarriage, I was in the wake of Vince and Razzle's tragedy, we were both craving a quick fix and I guess sex is how we were illusioned into believing we were healing. 

In reality we obviously weren't solving anything, just brushing it under the rug, but it was honestly the happiest I had been with her for our marriage. 

It was peaceful. We weren't at each other's throats. We weren't at war. We looked forward to seeing each other and spending time with each other, and it was the closest we got to being how we were when we were just dating...so that, for me at that time, was the happiest I remember us being.

The next day I'm taking my enveloped and stamped letter down to the mailbox in the hall near the recreation room, passing by Amber on my way, seeing her nod at me in acknowledgment before I'm halting myself and coming back to see her. 

"Hey, Doc, I need a word." I tell her. 

"Can it wait, Mr. Sixx, I'm running late for a meeting?" 

"I wanna know why having sex with my wife is a bad thing?" I ask, and she stops and looks at me. 

"It's not. Nobody said it was." She tells me. 

"You told me it might jeopardize our progress if we move too fast." 

"Because it very well could. You both have co-dependence intertwined in your sex lives." She explains.

"Well, I don't know if you've been paying attention to the last couple sessions but my wife has needs right now. And not having sex with her right now is jeopardizing our progress because she thinks something's wrong with her." 

"But you've told me, and her, you don't desire her because she's currently carrying another man's child."

"I've been thinking about it and I told her I'd work this out with her and how I've acted towards her is kinda contradictory to that." I admit. "And I can't go home and screw her into next week because you've got me paranoid about messing things up, now." 

"Have you told her my opinion on sex in your relationship as of now?" 

"No."

"Well, then, tell her about it and I'll take the blame for it." 

"I don't want you to take the blame for anything, I want you to 'ok' me banging my wife." 

"If you want to, 'bang,' your wife, then you can do that. There's not a law in the universe barring you from getting intimate with her."

"Sure as shit feels like it." I argue. 

"Tell you what, you talk to her about it--tell her my opinion--and we'll touch on it in the next session." She suggests. 

"Pun intended?" I ask and she furrows her brows, looking unamused. 

"...Okay, nevermind." I mumble. 

"I'll see you Friday for your session with the boys, have a good day." She tells me, giving me a nod before walking away. 

I just shake my head a little, irritated, and drop my letter in the mail box, heading to the payphone to try to call Vivian. 

"Hello?" She answers on the second ring and I clear my throat. 

"H-Hey, it's me," I say, and she's quiet for a moment. 

"Hey," she finally answers and I let out a breath of relief. 

"Do you wanna visit tomorrow? I need to talk to you about something." I tell her. 

"Is this where you tell me you're filing for a divorce afterall?" She asks and I rub my lips together. 

"No, Viv, it's not. It's about our sex thing." I struggle trying to define it. 

"Can we even have a sex thing if we aren't even having sex?" 

"Ha. Ha. Smartass." I state. "Seriously, you wanna come?" 

"More than you know." She replies and I can't help but laugh. 

"Pun not intended." She adds. "I'll be there around nine o'clock, if that's okay? I have another appointment to check on the baby since the surgery and then I'm gonna try to go shopping for some decently healthy things because I'm gaining too much weight at the moment." 

"You're pregnant--that's your excuse to eat whatever the fuck you want, when you want it, isn't? Like a chick liberation thing or something." 

"I'm eating too much junk, I don't want to pop out a fifteen pound baby. My pussy will rip to my ass." She says and I get a horrifying image. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Nikki, I gotta go." 

"Alright, see you then. Bye, baby." 

"Bye." She replies softly before hanging up.

I pick at the inside of my lip with my teeth, another thought coming to mind...and my eyes shift to my pinky ring on my right hand...the same one I'd proposed to Vivian with back in '83.