#its gonna be okay but now i cant pay my bills until i know how much the oils gonna cost

[july-19th-club]

forgot to order heating oil and the tank is comPLETELY drained luckily i have an old wood stove BUT. i have to be in the house with it whenever it's in use so that if it burns the place down ill at least be aware of it

[shadyhouse]

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[wolf-stark]

You ask I deliver — both tfatws asks in one!

tfatws weekly ask 1

i finally saw ep1!! i wont be able to see ep2 until thursday at the earliest but i already have some Thots on this ep. here are the ones I remember

first is, and i'm so sorry for this, a grammar lesson. an appositive is when you stick an additional phrase in between commas, dashes, or the like. i actually just used one! the "and i'm so sorry for this" in the first sentence of this paragraph is an appositive. thing is, most english speakers don't normally use them when they speak, only in writing. so i'm always on high alert whenever i hear somebody in tv or movies use one. (it's generally a marker of bad screenwriting). anyway there was one right in the beginning of the episode. the white army guy yelling at sam wilson said "first lieutenant Torres, our intel officer, will be helping on the ground." yeah so. the writing of this series started out on the wrong foot for me. but the rest of the episode was obviously tons and tons better (every interview i see with malcolm spellman makes me love him more and more)

the contrast between the opening minutes (falcon action sequence) and the rest of the ep.... i would 100000/10 rather watch a series with just sam and bucky dealing with life. i dont give a single crap about the flag-smashers or any of that. i just want sam, sarah & fam getting their boating business back on the ground & yeeting racist dickwads, bucky going through therapy and making amends, sam and joaquin being bros, sambucky homoerotic tension, etc.

the cinnamontography! wandavision mostly used cinematography to signify era n stuff. tfatws doesn't have wv's premise to go off of, so here's some tricks i noticed:

with sam there's obviously all sorts of shots with the captain america iconography next to his face, but he hasn't totally claimed it. there's the mural of steve rogers in the background; there's sam staring into the shield like it's a spectre of steve's face; there's sam looking into the exhibit, the shield and sam separated by glass and a layer of camera focus. steve is a constant spectre, always there, an idea, a symbol himself. sam's relationship with this iconography is distanced. he is separated by glass exhibit walls. by painting canvases. he doesn't yet feel worthy to take on that iconography. this whole thing was pulled off quite well but also a bit on-the-nose if only in quantity. there's just sooooo much fancy iconography stuff

speaking of the exhibit, there's something that i get real pissy about. it's when like, there's an action going on you're supposed to be paying attention to but the cinematographer is like,,,, hey! check out this location! or this headline! or something! there was a lot of that in the exhibit. the camera was like, you could focus on sam and rhodey's convo (which was fine but could have been so much better with an extra like 10 minutes of deep character study talk) but noooo you want me to look at the symbol for the united nations and read all the text about bucky who hasn't even showed up yet. shut up i know the lore and ill watch the shot-by-shot breakdown yt vids you don't have to make the shot this long jkdsalcjklasejf

my fav trick was with bucky and the therapist. i had seen a clip of the scene with bucky and the therapist beforehand and i thought the cinnamontography was super obnoxious, but then i was like, oh duh. the shots frequently change the distance between the camera and its subject. sometimes it's uncomfortably close and sometimes it's really far. a clear allegory for the duality of therapy, esp for bucky! therapy is an invasive process wherein he is ruthlessly examined, picked apart, and berated for his trauma (this therapist is crap in every way btw, "mean therapist" works for greg house and greg house only). so the camera goes close. it makes the viewer claustrophobic like bucky. but when he's like "no i haven't had any nightmares" the camera suddenly goes really far. we see bucky as this tiny head in the center of the bottom of the frame. we are distanced from him. he has pushed us away. we cannot see him. he lies because he is vulnerable. so yeah, amazing work there. the therapy scene was hard to watch on purpose!

did bucky slip a note to yori inside the dollar bill? bucky stop making me emooooo. the suuper awkward fake smile has me 😭 (veteran trying to adjust!)

mark my worrrrds when sam asks someone y the govt picked john “white bread” walker they’re gonna say “we needed somebody everyone can get behind....someone uncontroversial, someone everyone can see themselves in” like that exact racist dog whistle

tfatws weekly ask 2

just saw ep2 so im taking advantage of the 2 seconds i can be on tumblr without worrying about tfatws spoilers before new episode drops

when isaiah said "your people put me in prison for being a hero" and bucky thought "your people" means hydra. 🤦‍♂️

speaking of racism, the interplay between sam being Black (anti-Black racism) and sam being the Falcon (negrophilia, "can i take a selfie w you as i deny you a loan?") and the intersection between the two (j*hn lichrally called sam "steve's wingman"! he takes the crypto out of crypto-racist in like 2 seconds!) !!!!!!!! a Black celebrity's Black experience, the separation of man and identity!!!! (thinking about vanessa bayer in snl in that skit "beyonce is black" telling her black friend "you're not black, you're...my girl!")

after sam gets racially profiled by cops we see j*hn standing in front of cop cars cinematic parallels turns out j*hn is racist who knew

this therapist sucks major ass but she got bucky and sam together in the same room and ready to collaborate...that's something ig. it was lichrally couple's therapy she said she used her miracle exercise with couples sambucky antis get blended

bucky says "he was wrong about you so maybe he was wrong about me"...that's not how people talk. when therapist asks bucky, the guy who doesn't talk at all about himself, "y do you hate sam", the last thing bucky's gonna do is actually connect his hatred of sam to his own self-worth issues. bucky generally refuses to talk about himself, so why would he talk about himself in the one context that nobody ever links back to their own neuroses: hatred of other people? one thing human beings hate most is admitting we're wrong. admitting you hate someone because of your own issues? that's a major therapeutic step. bucky would absolutely have to be prompted to do that. even like one or two lines of dialogue more would have set up that line better. but in terms of the actual thought? an amazing way to take the sam/bucky relationship. bucky bases his self-worth on steve believing in him, and if steve is wrong bucky has no self-worth, so 1) he has to develop self-worth disassociated from steve's assessment of him and 2) he has to love himself before he can love sam, and 3) he has to realize that sam giving up the shield is a sign of sam's humility not his unworthiness.

conversely, we don't get into why sam hates bucky? yeah sam has the right to hate a guy that has tried to kill him (albeit while brainwashed) multiple times, and now shows up in his life just to bash him but. everything happens so fast i cant follow their relationship

in fact i dont feel like i understood much of anything. like y did bucky and sam go on that mission together? how connected are sam/bucky/joaquin with the government? doesn't bucky just want to retire now? literally what is everyone doing/feeling and why???

if battlestar becomes a knowing commentary on the black best friend stereotype i'm gonna party, but i dont expect much of that

the interplay between man and symbol. captain america is obviously a symbol. the shield is obviously a symbol. but steve rogers? the. man behind the cowl? he too seems to become a symbol. a paragon of a good guy, so good he's unreachable. steve was just a guy stop idolizing him the last thing steve would want is to be idolized

as the resident musician/music nerd on mcublr, 1) that captain america rally music slaps, but 2) re: the song at the end of the ep, if you're just gonna rip off mozart's lacrymosa then at least play mozart's lacrymosa. we wont blame you the lacrymosa slaps (if you dont know what im talking about go on yt and search it up youll recognize it fo sho

look i love enfys nest as much as the next guy but if tfatws is gonna get erin kellyman to play another innocent little gurl blackmailed into the fakeout-villain position (her text seemed to suggest as such) then 😡 like why can't women just....be evil? young, freckly, innocent-looking women? girls are not untouchable pure objects but full of rage and resentment just as much as anyone can be

bonus ep1 comment: bucky says about that senator whose car he hijacked, "she continued to abuse the power i gave her." fictionaldarling on yt say that he says "i" because he can't disassociate himself from his winter soldier persona which begets endless and senseless guilt. like dude. can i not be emo for like 1 second.

OKay. First off, as much I enjoy your sending it to me, what made you decide to send me these??

-

TFATWS WA #1

Don't worry about getting this to me as early as possible. I usually don't watch the episode right away.

1. Cool writing lesson.

2. Everyone wants a comedy show [like Friends] about the MCU superheroes.

3. Cinematography is always a beautiful thing.

4. Sam definitely has to carve his own Captain America status for himself, outside of Steve's ya know everything.

5. They have to do that for people who was just now tuning in because they're in love with Sam Wilson or Sharon Carter.

6. I think the therapist was taking a 'tough love' approach for Bucky, because she likely has some very strong opinions about the literal assassin she's been assigned to give therapy too. She did not choose to talk to him, she was assigned that make that clear in the second episode.

And, Bucky isn't lying when he said it wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't a nightmare, it was a resurfaced memory. So, technically he wasn't lying - and yes, the camera does move away because while he's saying he didn't have a nightmare, he's not expanding on what actually happened - so, he's still pushing the therapist/us away.

7. Bucky, and Steve, have/had a TON to adjust to.

8. Yeah, I agree that will be the bullshit line they give. If they ever actually talk about it.

TFATW WA #2

Yeah, always got to take advantage of avoiding those spoilers lmfaoo.

1. Honestly, that line was double meaning. Both about White people and Hydra [which is made up of mostly white supremacists/nazis] So, the line is gesturing to both White People in general and Hydra assholes together. I think the terminology is “double edge sword”??

2. This whole paragraph structure confused me, ngl - so I'm going to answer it the best I can. I do like that they're not ignoring the fact that Sam being Black is 1000% the reason he's not the Official Captain America - because the gov't is racist as hell.

I also like the little lines about how they point out little things about Sam's Falcon persona, like that kid calling him 'Black Falcon' specifically and Sam's response show the split between Sam and Falcon itself.

John is a dick for calling Sam the wingman of Steve Rogers. Sam was a hero all on his own before Steve asked him to join up again. [Side note, it's lichrally??]

3. Exactly, the parallel of Sam being profiled and surrounded while just on the street and John being surrounded by fans and being able to spring Bucky with apparently only a few sentences shows a Loooooot

4. Honestly, at this point I wonder if she's not actually a therapist and is just an agent assigned to assess Bucky outside of an Official Building. I do know, however, that her 'look at each other and speak' exercise is actually a real therapy practice. It's just a little slower.

5. Actually, I think he would've blurted that out. That whole line. I don't think Bucky hates Sam. I think they could've done the scene better, but I think that had Sam prodded him/the therapist been more annoying Bucky would've lost control of his emotions and blurted out the whole "If he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me" but I feel like the writing for this show is just... not there. Sometimes you blurt shit when you get overemotional and I think that was what Bucky was supposed to be like.

6. I don't think Sam hates Bucky, I think he doesn't trust him though. I do wish they'd talked about that though. The whole 'talk to each other' scene should've been a LOT longer and a LOT slower.

7. Sam and Bucky's relationship is being fast tracked because they don't really know how to work the relationship out, writers-room-wise. Bucky is technically retired, but I feel like he's trying to live up to Steve's expectations and doing what Steve would've done and we all know that if Steve was there, Steve would've jumped on that plane with Sam. It looks like Sam/Bucky/Joaquin are a side-team based from Military services but as Sam says they're all free agents so...?

8. Sadly, They seem to just be propping up to be another stereotype.

9. Captain America is a symbol. Steve Rogers is a man. But now Steve Rogers is an idol because of all the shit he's been through and honestly, it's not a bad thing he's become an idol for people - it's using Steve as a reason to make White Bread Walker the next Captain that makes Steve's idolization so fucked.

10. I don't know anything about music so I have no opinion here, sorry.

11. Enfys?? Also, I think they did the whole Innocent Girl Thing as side commentary for Bucky lowering his guard about seeing a young girl rather than a guy.

12. Bucky is the Winter Solider. The Winter Solider is Bucky. That is how Bucky will always see it because although he was brainwashed, it was still him and he remembers all of it. When you have constant memories of something 'someone else' did, you tend to not be able to pull the two personas out of each other. I want Bucky to take up the title, White Wolf instead of Winter Soldier. Honest.

This is all my opinion, I’m honestly a little disappointed with the writing of TFATWS so far so... I’m not really optimistic about this.

[blooms-of-ice]

RP Log: Some time in the past, Wyda welcomes Sven to the company! 

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn has spent the afternoon tending to the front yard. ‘Gardening’ (if you could call basically drowning plants in water that) and keeping everything tidy! With a broom gripped between her hands, she sweeps the stepping stones leading to the company building with a hum and a tune.

Sven Anovsch walks up slowly, seeing the person 'tending' to the lawn and stepping stones.  This unsocialized Hrothgar walks just enough to not step on the stones before clearing his throat and speaking. "Ahem, you are employed here?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn stops sweeping and gives Sven a beaming smile. “Hello! Oh, yes! I’m employed.” A beat. She clears her throat. “I’m one of the officers of Heartwood. What can I help you with?”

Sven Anovsch blinks and forces his head back at the sudden almost excited and quick response. "A-ah. Well good then." He takes a few steps forward. "I have been loitering around that tavern? Hall?" He shrugs before continuing. "In Ul'dah.  I saw a few fliers of other companies but figured I'd see if this was a proper one for me...." He realizes he is just talking to much. "I'm just looking for a position is all, what can I do to start that?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn steps to the left for a moment to lean her broom against the wall, and returns with her hands empty. She then presents an open hand to Sven and waits for him to shake it. “A recruit then? Welcome! All you have to do is shake on it.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “...Okay, there’s a bit more to it. I can walk you through what you can expect to do here, if you decide to join. Ahem. But we can get into the nitty gritty stuff inside over a cup of tea.”

Sven Anovsch cants his head looking down to her hand. "That...Is it? Ah, what of questions o- I see, I see.  I will agree to that so far." He extends his hand to take hers for a shake.  If it was just a normal shake, and no funny business, it would just be a normal but firm shake.  Expected of an average Hrothgar.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Let’s head on in. If we stay out too long, then we might get a nasty sunburn.” She eyes Sven curiously, and is about to ask him if Hrothgar can even get a sunburn...but she holds her tongue. Wouldn’t be polite. Wyda steps away and pushes the building doors open, ushering the recruit inside.

Sven Anovsch just perks a brow, but nodding as he follows her lead. "Thanks." He says as he is ushered through the door.

Sven Anovsch takes a decent look around. "Interesting floor." He just stares at the ground now.  Obviously completely confused on it and how it is even maintained here inside, though he focuses his attention back on Ais. "A nice building though.  A lot better than some dingy building that some companies have." He gives a quick chuckle.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn grins, suddenly feeling a little bashful even though it’s the house being complimented. “We take good care of the place...and we take good care of the members. One sec.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn grabs a folder of documents from the front table and then dashes over to the cafe. Bam, the papers go on the table. Bam, she brings over a pot of tea and a couple of sweets from the bakery. And then bam, she sits herself down and gestures for Sven to join her.

Sven Anovsch gives a nod. "It seems your company does take good care of the place." He follows along and sits down across from Ais. "Do you treat all recruits like this? Or is it a ploy to persuade anyone who wishes to join?" He smirks lightly.  Is this a joke? Who knows, but now his eyes lay on the papers.  A sigh and nothing further said as he stares.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “All genuine! Nothing fake about this.” She grins, and then pulls out a pencil with the intent of filling out the form in front of her. She stops the moment she tries to fill the first square. “Shoot! What’s your name...what’s my name! I’m Wyda. Ahhh, I was so excited that I forgot the first step in talking with people.”

Sven Anovsch widens his eyes as he forgot himself as well. That's it...He blew it...Another awkward social interaction. He shakes his head before finally speaking. "Sven, it's Sven.  Apologies." He sighs, shaking his head.  He is better suited for working rather than talking most definitely.  Stupid hermit Hroth.

(Sven Anovsch) Love it xD ) (Sven Anovsch) Sven just literally hasn't talked to anyone since he was like 14 or 15 and he is in his early 30's now haha ) (Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) he's pretty good at talkin for someone who hasn't talked for 15 years! O_O )) (Sven Anovsch) Lmfao well he's been here for like a few months aaand I don't feel like typing like that xD ) (Sven Anovsch) May seem awkward, but he's smartish.  He tried suuuper hard to learn the language.  We will go with that lmfao )

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Sven! That’s a nice name. S-v-e-n...Sven.” Wyda fills in the first box. “So, we’re a group of adventurers from all sorts of places. Limsa Lominsa, Ul’dah, Coerthas...you name it. Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

Sven Anovsch is obviously not too excited to talk about himself, though he knows he must. "Thank you. Ah, well I am a warrior, of course.  I have only recently came down from way up beyond Ishgard.  You can imagine why I am sure.  Though, I am not opposed to groundskeeping, brewing or stilling.  But I still flourish with fighting, as it seems typical around here to be anyways." He wonders if that suffices.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn nods as she listens and jots down notes based on what he’s telling her. Ishgard. Warrior. Groundskeeping. Brewing. “Quite a journey if you made it on foot. Now, we’ve got a gardener already, but I’m sure she won’t mind a helping hand now and again. But brewing...now that’s interesting! Erm..” Her eyes light up as her inner alcoholic tries to make itself known. Wyda scrunches her face for a second and forces it back down.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn:  “Ahem. ‘Fighting’ is generally how we pay the bills. Guard jobs, hunts, you name it. It’s dangerous, but everyone here is someone you can trust your life with. And if you -do- get hurt, we’ve got a clinic in house.”

Sven Anovsch actually smiles and nods. "Yes, was mainly on foot until I got a bit of coin to be able to afford going down to Ul'dah.  A fellow Hrothgar told me it is friendliest to travelers there? Or at least to him.  But...I've been stilling a few things for many summers, I've tried a bit at brewing.  Not as tasty as like stilling mead or just the stuff that makes you pass out, but good regardless." He chuckles for a moment before continuing. "Seems with at least fighting, I fit in, yes?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn leans back in her chair. Ah, Ul’dah...the city of opportunity, but also the city of shady deals. “Before I found Heartwood, I went to Ul’dah too. Nice enough place, but I’m glad to be where I am now. And I think you’ll fit right in - you’ll find we’re all weird in our own way.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Do you think you could show me how to brew alcohol sometime? I’m a bit of a...” Her mind searches for the right word. Drunk? Accurate, but no. “I’m a connessier.”

Sven Anovsch smiles warmly at that. "It's a bit barren down in Ul'dah.  Opposite of what I am used to, but I suppose it does have good food." He chuckles before continuing. "I'd be happy to show you though.  It takes a while, but if you do it right, it comes out quite good.  By my standards at least."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn fills a cup of tea for herself and Sven. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it! When you make something with love, then it will always taste good.” Wyda says this with absolute seriousness, completely unaware of how cheesy she’s being. God, the cheese.

Sven Anovsch blinks at that.  Feta cheese. "Yes...Or just the good quality hops." He chuckles looking down to the cup of tea she poured for him.  He reaches to pick it up, giving it a sniff before continuing. "How many members are working here?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn similarly picks up her teacup and wraps her hands around it, appreciating its warmth. “Hm...60 to 70. But some folk are the type to return home in a blue moon while they’re doing their own thing. Certainly, there are regulars like myself. And if you hang around the bar, you’re sure to see the same faces quite a bit.”

Sven Anovsch gives a nod. "Then perhaps I will linger around here more often.  I'm assuming this company also partakes in contracts that require bigger groups?" He sips at his tea which leads to an odd reaction.  Not a displeased one, but one of just curiosity as he sniffs the tea again? why? He takes another sip and just holds it under his face a bit as he waits for her response.

(Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) lmao what is this strange hot leaf juice xD )) (Sven Anovsch) Lmfao, he's used to his shitty teas he learned to make which are essentially just random shit mixed together.  Comes to Eorzea and holy shit there's good tasting tea? Not just 'medicinal' kinds? haha )) (Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) now he's in the lap of luxury, comparatively ))

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Yeah, maybe...once or twice a month. Depends on whether Eorzeas on fire or not.” She shrugs her shoulders with a lighthearted chuckle. “We’ve fought all sorts of things. Amal’jaa, robot spiders, an aether sucking auracite...It can get pretty dangerous, not gonna lie. I much prefer the time between jobs where we can just kick back and relax.”

Sven Anovsch cants his head. "Robot spiders...?" That's a new one to him.  Robot?  He shrugs. "Complacency can kill someone, so don't let yourself get too comfortable and relaxed." There it is, the boneheaded Hrothgar attitude. "So, you have me convinced.  I'd like to join.  What all must I do?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn sighs. How she wishes she could relax forever...but she can’t. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she was slacking around while others risked life and limb for the good of Eorzea. “Not much. Just sign here, and here.” Wyda points to two spots on the forms. They’re the usual stuff found on free company applications. The company isn’t responsible for any untimely deaths, a promise to represent the company in a positive light, etc...

Sven Anovsch can't read...What does he do...He looks over where she pointed but somehow already lost his place on where he is supposed to sign...Sign..? What does that exactly mean. "Uhm..." Is all he says.

(Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) oh noo )) (Sven Anovsch) Lmao BUT HOW DID HE FIND THIS PLACE?!?! wonder of the universe lmfao lots of awkward interactions in asking for help lmfao )) (Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) the universe is a magical and mysterious place............... )) (Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) wyda isn't much sharper tbh ))

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn looks up at Sven, then down at the paper, and then back up. You can practically hear the gears move in her head. “Oh! Umm, just. Just do this. Please hold still.” Wyda tries to blacken the Sven’s fingertip with the end of her pen, in an attempt to use his fingerprints in lieu of a signature.

Sven Anovsch just lets her do what she is doing. "I think I understand..." He then takes his freshly inked fingertip and just makes a smudge with it.  Not a fingerprint...A smudge... He looks up smiling. "There! It all works, yes? I must admit, I am quite excited to see where this company can take me.  It smells positive here, which is a good thing before going out and fighting or something like that, yes?"

(Sven Anovsch) I try to fill in logic holes as I go lmfao. )) (Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) fdsf this is cracking me up ))

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn picks up the paper and holds it against the light. The smudge is immediately noticeable, like a bowling ball in a field of snow. “Hm.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Perfect!” She practically glows with positive energy.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “And I’m excited to welcome you to Heartwood! So I’ll say it again...welcome, friend!”

Sven Anovsch perks up even more. "Great! I shall eventually bring all my brewing stuff over.  I'll even let you use it as you wish.  Best way to learn is just experiment." He chuckles. "But, I look forward to working with the people here." And a confident nod at the end there.

[knicole0527]

How Did I Fall For Unwritten History?

So I’m in a whole relationship right? Like a whole fat ass relationship. Like me plus her equals nobody else . Its kinda dope and kinda like coccaine . If she was a drug I’d take it . She grounds me . She makes love to my mind , heart , and then my body . Her way of words sometimes makes me feel stupid because she uses words I cant imagine using . My vocabulary aint that big . But ask me about math or science ? I’m definitely ya girl . She was my missing piece . If that makes any sense at all . We definitely have our rollercoasters but I’ll killl anyone over her and I stand on that . Best part its with who I chose and not who my parents chose or approved of. I actually dont care whether they approve of me or not. Mom didnt want kids anyways. As she put it, she likes “ a return to sender kid “ I know she used to joke about it but I later found it to be true. So at this point either you like my happiness or you dont. But anyways, So we met the first time at work, Afni Call Center to be exact. She was a bet. By bet I mean with green money with coworkers. So I bet that I would get smashed by this girl and they would each owe me 50 bucks. I mean who can turn down money. Plus she was kinda cute and I know she was watching my little booty when I would walk away . I was 80 pounds lighter when we first met .

But here lately things have gone to shit . I can admit I fucked up . Well in the beginning . I cheated . She found out . But I was honestly gone tell her everything but she found out I broke her heart all that and then some . Since I put all my business out there . Only reason why I cheated was because I wanted a kid . I wanted her for sure but I wanted a kid . As time passed us by I realized she doesn’t want kids at all . So I had to make a decision , kids or stick around for my one true love in my adult life . So I looked her in the face , I probably had tears In my eyes and told her I chose her . She looked at me with confusion for a little and I dont think she anted me to flat out give up kids. But I was gone doe what I had to do to keep her by my side .

Now before we get to me cheating . I had an apartment on Old Morgantown Road . I loved that damn space man . Hard wood flooring . Storage unit . I had a w/d hook up . I had a good apartment and I could afford it and be able to live my best life . Rent was 475 a month . Utilities and water ran me about 80 . So I was well within my budget . But my dumb ass got involved with this man who I thought I could change . I was trying to hear from nobody about nothing . I wasnt trying to hear that he was cheating because I felt like I gave him no reason to cheat . I was giving him everything and then some . Hell I let his stupid ass cousin stay on my couch . So they were living rent free right , I know stupid Kendra always doing dumb shit . I should have opened my eyes but I didn’t .

Well he and I are definitely no longer together . He got my little cousin pregnant . I dont know whats worse . That she knew he was still living with me . That she knew we was kin . That he knew we was still together , fucking and living together and I never ask for a dollar . Or that my bosses had to call me in the office with another one of my cousins and sit me down to tell and show me that he was cheating and she was pregnant . It even shocked me that she tried to question me about my niggas car . Like girl he and I live together so yes maam I’m gone drive his car . and she was in shock to see me in the drivers seat . huh . Aint that funny how it all played out though ? But you know , karma got took his dick for a minute . He got the worst news of his life . His heart was just as shattered as mine . His trust was screwed if not worse than mine . He found out that while he was too busy cheating on me , she was getting knocked down by his cousin . LMFAO SERIOUSLY . He did all that cheating and got that girl pregnant and ended up getting played himself . So while I was his woman , he had a side bitch who had a side nigga , but THE SIDE NIGGA HAD A SIDE BITCH . I hadnt had sex with him in a while because things started getting to me and I was becoming very suspicious so I was still going to get checked anyways . But yea . What a fckd up love hexagon . Crazy how we all worked together . But when I reached my snapping point . I became a little on the ratchet side and called his mom and told her come get her sons belongings because he was homeless again . My cousin didnt have her own spot so somebody had to come take care of him because by that time I was done pretending .

Shit got bad for me mentally . I had me fckd up . I lost my job and went broke because I drank and popped it away . I know definitely wasn’t the right thing but I just wanted to feel numb to everything . I didnt really care how I got high just as long as I as high I was okay and at peace .

Alot of time went by and my past came back . She made me feel safe . And she saw me ; like the actual me . She knew something was up . Hell I gained 50 pounds since the last time we seen each other . But when she came back . I dont know if I was more so excited to see her or trying to fuck her right there on the floor at work . I walked in the door and the moment I seen her ... I didnt care who I was talking to , I think Wanda , I’m sorry boo but I seen my old boo and just had to do it . I could not help myself I had to hug her before I did anything else . I had a little more weight on me too because during our last encounter , hmm hmm , I was a bit smaller and hadnt grown boobs yet . So when she seen me running 90 mph to her ; baby girl was in for a shock .

Time went by and we started seeing each other a little more outside of work . Then she started to spend the night . But when she started doing that , I think I made things a little complicated for her at her moms . I had no intentions of doing so but it kinda got weird because she wasnt coming home very much any more . But yall , when I had her all to myself . Do you know how many times I undressed this girl with my eyes . I mean she standing there fully clothed and I seen EVERY INCH of her thru them clothes . It was bad yall . lol . She kinda eventually sorda moved in ; even though I thought she had already moved in . Time went by and things were okay ya know . We were just in the “ talking “ phase and just filling each other out . She started to grow on me a little more than I planned . and then I wanna say it was my birthday or after ? Baby girl was so drunk . She , our mutual friend , and I went to go grab food and drinks . Weeellllllll , I trapped her into drinking and drinking and drinking . We got home ? and she drank and and got funnier as the night went on . I remember that day like it was yesterday and the videos I have are absolutely the funniest videos I have ever recorded . “ butt clouds “ and the car honk that about gave her a damn heart attack .

Anywho times have went on . We decided to go to hilltop and live there . Who would have thought we would live together because I was stern on not wanting to live with her . It was weird living there . Always wondering if or when we were going to get a roommate . Then ? Thats the first time I ever broke a heart . See , she was always wanting to like distinguish a title. Meanwhile I am petrified of titles and labels and shit . Plus I have labeled myself for so long I didnt want to put a label on she and I . So I waited and waited and waited and decided to test waters . By testing waters meaning , I caught baby fever BAD . LIKE BAD BAD . I wanted a kid so bad I didnt think about talking to her first , I was just hoping one day I could be like , surprise baby we are having a baby ; butttttt I was gonna tell her how I got pregnant IF if actually happened . But she kinda beat me to it . She seen the messages on her tablet and as you know it went to shit from there . I broke her heart . I wasnt sure if or when she would or could ever forgive me . ( its JAn232021 ) and I know she still hasn’t forgiven me for anything . Not sure if she will ever get past it enough to love me love me .

We made it official , May 2019. By that time the only things that mattered to me were building a life with her. Come August 2020 . We got a place together and as time went on, I knew something was wrong but I would rather ignore it than have to go to the doctor because that just aint my cup of tea. I hate doctors.. they always wanna diagnose people with shit. I just didn’t wanna be one of those people so I held out as long as I could before it got to the point of being unbearable . I lost yet another good job . At first they thought it was covid and it wasnt . I tested negative for covid . Then I had like 5 appointments that following week . I was put on all types of stuff . I was throwing up everything . I was crying non stop . I was doing things not in my normal regimen . Thats when things fell harder on her . Harder as in bills , and stress and everything . I became that burden . I became the thing in the relationship that puts everything on the line . I became the complete failure in the relationship .

I wasn’t able to help like I planned . in fact my checks were so small that every pay day because I had all my bills and people I owed money to on auto pay and I kept making promises, put me in the negatives . I was in the negatives for 3 to 4 months . So imagine being the one in the relationship who didnt feel welcome . Who didnt feel like I deserved the love and things like that . All I wanted to do was help out and I couldn’t . Made me want to pack up and wait until I knew she was gone so I could leave . I didn’t know what to do . But I knew I was pretty much of no use . I knew that she resented me . I knew it pushed things back so far it may never come back to normal .

But now , Im better than I was still struggling though .  But I have this amazing job . I have a job where I can do my part and not hurt . I have a job where I can finally help out now . But its not enough . I’m not enough . The love is not enough anymore . I have became disposable . I have become the one who broke and shattered her heart and trust in her adult love life . How do I come back from it ? How do I rescue something that may have already died ? Am I worth it ? Am I better off without ? Do I deserve her ? She deserves the world and I want to give it to her I do .

But idk , maybe my mom was right . just maybe the only things I’m good at are singing and laying on my back . Havent accomplished shit yet . Got banned from a job because I tried to put my hands on someone . Got fired from 3 good fucking jobs because of my health .

Im crashing at this point . My future is on edge . I am on edge . this is not cool dude . But I will play the hand I’m dealt . Maybe I will win and marry the woMAN of my dreams . Or maybe I will just fck it up once again . We Will See .

[superemeralds]

ive had my own idea for a sonic movie that would still be live action and a generic child-friendly action-comedy just like the “real” sonic movie is (presumably) gonna be

IN SHORT!

The main character that makes a duo with sonic for the majority of the movie is a young girl named June.

The overall plot is very similar to sonic x, but altered to fit the time span of the usual one and a half hours movie length in movies like that.

detailed description, explanation of the pictures and character info under the cut!

Through a mal-induced chaos control eggman and sonics friends get transported into the real world. this time space rift causes some really weird stuff to happen and June gets seperated from her dad, who was just on his way to bring her to school.

at first she thinks its cool to meet a talking blue hedgehog in a really pretty nature-y place and skip school to play with him, but soon they notice that they are not alone. Eggmans robots got transported to our world too! June gets captured because she is seen with sonic and therefore identified as a threat by eggmans robots! Sonic runs after her towards what seems to be eggmans base.

meanwhile the dad was transported to a really high place, whihc is bad cos he’s  got fear of heights. Luckily tails and knuckles appear and offer to help him down

both teams start looking for eachother, but get interrupted by various obstacles. June and Sonic get hold off by eggmans schemes, while Dad and Sonics friends stumble upon amy, who just escaped a military research facility. she hoped that cream would be with the others, but it seemed that they had to go back and save her. the Dad used to be a hobby boxer, but since he’s a lawyer he doesn’t really do that much anymore. it surely helped him when taking out those government officials. its funny how a lawyer breaks the law, right? there’s many jokes on that and his character development goes from strict father figure that doesnt allow fun and insists on obeying the law to a wild and free man who does what’s right, even if  he has to break rules. (also he screams “sorry” every time he KOs someone because hes that kinda guy)

June and sonic manage to infiltrate the egg carrier that was transported into our world and set it to crash and render all his stuff useless!

However, the ship is on course for the city which they didnt realize until it started losing height. eggman pretends that he can still stop this if the people are willing to make him their unquestionable ruler, but sonic and june are determined to stop the ship themselves. sonic keeps eggman busy while June is in the command center trying to find a way to make the ship change course and go crash in the ocean.

in the end everything is exploding and falling apart and eggman is fleeing, June managed to change the ships course and runs up to sonic telling him he needs to run, sonic says that she doesnt have to tell him twice and they go.

sonic gets blown to the side by an explosion and trips over debris, making his knee bleed a little (u cant see blood bc this is kid friendly hes just hurt like theres dirt or smth lol) and he tells june to run and not worry, but she comes back and lifts him on her back and is determined to run as fast as she can to get outside

when she reaches a door she screams because she’s scared. they are close to the ground, but not close enoguh to make it alive if she jumped... then sonic hugs her from behind and says “jump on my command” and shes like. no way. but he says “trust me we’re not gonna get hurt if we hit water” and shes like “but i cant swim that well” sonic chuckles “me neither” and then she gets the memo and is all determined and ready and they make it and its magical

they might also have a scene thats a nudge to 06 where sonic is very Positive and gives good life advice.

while everything seems like its perfect eggman is starting plan B of his conquer the others were all alarmed by the crashing egg carrier and therefore came speeding in the modified car tails rebuild for Dad (it can turn into a fucken plane. Dad and June are finally reunited and he thanks sonic for watching after her, and sonics like nah ur daughter totally watched after me shes a hero.

and then they work together to stop eggmans final boss robot and save the city.

at some point they all found chaos emeralds somewhere. and sonic can turn super to finish eggman off. yeah that sounds cool.

that also makes him and the others fade back into their own dimension, bc hes Got That Power

in the end its just him, June and Dad iin midst of a park in the city with debris and shit and June is like. sonic dont go we jsut became friends

and sonics like. treasure the memories you make and live life to the fullest bc u only got this one shot and u gotta make the best of it. n her dad is all agreeing and shakes his hand and is like. thanks sonic

and June hugs him and cries but smiles and sonic says nice smile bc im kinda getting emotional writing this all out and then he disappears in a flash of light and in that moment it cuts to the mom on the side of the park in her car with the window down going “what the-” and credits roll

thanks for reading

okay i know most of this was really silly and unfinished but granted i was making this all up as i went on and on about this and like. yea. i brainstormed this in like. 2 horus time completely from scratch, only using sonic X as basis for the plot and the humor of popular and successful action comedies as inspiration for the tone of the movie

as for the characters i just thoguht a carefree girl thats tired of being stuffed into a mold meeting sonic and learning that its okay to be herself and do what u think is right, learning that kindness really is the most powerful thing on earth and that friendships are precious??? hell fucking yeah!

also child character is more relateable than a fucking cop. kids will be able to relate to June, while adults (long time fans most of all) will be able to see their past self in her.

as for the dad, a lot of adults might see themselves in this dad role who just wants the best for his  kid, while being stuck in a boring job that doesnt really fulfil them, but pays the bills and the lifestyle the family has.

I also really wanted characters that you have not seen before. Whenever i see a black dad he has a shaved head and thats kinda boring its just. basic. nothing agianst dads with shaved heads but why is Every Single(black) Dad Bald/Buzzcut? so i gave him dreads because why not? looks cool when he does action shit. whoosh whoosh

i knew i wanted a kid and i knew i wanted a girl. im really fond of puffy pigtails and i decided to go with a black girl just because! it was the very first thing that came to my mind when i was looking for an adventurous girl that wants to go on adventures with a blue talking hedgehog.

plus loving black dads that lov their girls rly rly need rep u_u

as for sonics design, i tried to compromise with the movie’s need for a more realistic sonic by making him overall fluffier to hint at texture, but keeping his core design and proportions.

the same goes for all the other characters.

I’m still very thinking emoji about eggman, I think it would be best to have him be either played by a fat person. Like Really Fat Person to resemble his original design (hes fat okay who cares abt slanky legs) or have him be CGI/partially CGI due to the fact that he’s from another dimension.

and uh. that’s all i have to say for now! it’s 1am and i should get to bed!

[lucarioisinthevoid]

I was joking about the centipede thing, cant take a joke mr. Purple man? Well. Anyway.

Also the only skeleton anyone has is inside of them! In any case, my ride to get back should be here shor-

Suddenly, the wall breaks, glass shatters, and dave had been run over...

Bear-trap? When did you learn how to drive..? I..... welp. I guess your my ride home.

See ya all later! Heres my dads number mr. Phone, hope we can come to an agreement soon!

Bear-Trap leans closely to Marionette, to simply state:

You mean my skeletons...

And with that, both Nathaniel and the Bear left, running over dave again in the process - (Submission by @ask-nathaniel-undecided​) Dave made a very pained noise, his fingers wiggling still, despite probably all of his nervous system being shattered. Phoney looked at Dave, then at the dead-looking bear behind the wheel, then at the young man still standing around. Quietly he noted down 'Lacks concern for human life' onto his mental sheet for Nathan and vowed to remember that in the worst case. It wasn't like MANY of them did, but especially someone this young- "OH GOD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" Jeremy cried out in distress, pale as a ghost as he ran up trying to get Dave out from under the car, but not daring to pull in case that it would make everything much worse. The guy was shaken by the way that car bumped, as though it was lighter than it actually was, as if this all was just a giant joke, except the purple dripping down the bumper of the car being very real. Poor boy was at the verge of breaking out into tears. Old Sport quickly picked him up and hugged him. "Shhhhh, shhhhh. Jerry. He's fine. He'll be up in a minute. But you know, your NICE and KIND and GENTLE Puppet friend TOTALLY SHOULD HELP GET THE CAR OFF HIM." The young guard couldn't see it, but Old Sport gave Marion a smug smile. "Y-yes... M-Marion, please- PLEASE get that- that off him-" Mike was having a field day screaming at the bear. "REALLY? In front of JEREMY?! What kind of shithead are you? That's MY fucking role, PISS OFF." The Phone-headed "leader" of the group sighed in utter defeat. "Don't uh- worry about Dave, people in here don't have insurance. Uh... you KNOW we will bill that wall though, right?" The Marionette meanwhile had focused enough psychic power to slightly raise the car and pull it aside. He couldn't keep shit like that up for long, but long enough to make Jeremy feel better at least. Poor, mangled Dave slowly rose from the ground, but he didn't make a sound. His eyes were small glowing dots as he pointed at Nathan. "... ya think you can fuck with me, huh?" His tone was much different than before too. "Listen here, kiddo." With that he swiftly stepped closer, ignoring everyone else's unease. "You have no idea who you're messin' with. Neither you, nor your fuckin' dirtbag of a dad. I want you to know somethin’ about ME as a person." He smiled eerily, it didn't fit with the rest of his expression. "I like to have fun! I'm a big fan of good ole pranks! They're a barrel of laughs! But ya know. Comin' into MY place and drivin' ME over with a car, that shit ain't cute." At this moment, if the bear were to try and intervene, he signed at him roughly. "The same goes for you. I don't care who ya used to be. Now you're a fuckin' attraction for Freddy's. Know your place." Turning back to Nathan from this hypothetical interaction, he loomed over him, tall and thin, a being from a sleep paralysis. "You might not care about what I have to say. And that's your loss, really. But I want ya to know that you should watch your back. And I want ya to know that you might bought the name of Freddy's, but ya sure as shit didn't buy its soul. That one belongs to ME. I AM THE FUCKIN' SOUL OF THIS PLACE! And if ya don't watch it, respect it and remember that you're a fuckin' cog at most currently, then the place itself will turn on you, in MY name." The lights flickered. It was silent for a moment. Then Dave burst out laughing. "Awwwww look at ya FACE! All SQUISHY and SPOOKED!" Roughly he grabbed Nathan's cheeks and while his expression was a smile, the gesture hurt. "Don't cha worry! With eyes like that I'm sure everyone will forgive and forget ya with ease! Just play nice and respect your elders, will ya?" Old Sport was looking fascinated onto it, joining Dave's side like a shadow. Instantly Dave put an arm around him, and visibly relaxed. "Sportsy here and me, we might pay ya place a visit some time!" A grin. "Give it some... pep. Just a bit of... uniqueness. Remember to be nice to Sportsy too! He's basically the fuckin' body of Freddy's. If he decides somethin' should happen, he makes it happen! You're gonna see his magic in action when we're all workin' together on a fun project in the future, you'll see. Now, begone! Would be a shame if someone hid somethin' extremely likely to go up in flames in your car while ya wait around!" The Puppet meanwhile, torn by two different things demanding his attention hissed at the bear. Something about him gave him awful vibes. Not Dave or Henry awful, but certainly disgusting in some way, to some degree like Mike. Though this time it was even worse, as the being wore his best friend's skin. 'You are wearing the skin of a hero. If you bring shame to him, I will not forgive it. I will not let anyone rest until every bit of evil attached to this place is cleaned.' My, what a promise. You will never rest Marion, will you? Then his attention was back on Dave and his escalation, watching defensively, ready to attack if he had to. Thankfully, it didn't turn out to be necessary, he would have hated to do it in front of Jeremy. When the bear hit Dave a second time, he absolutely lost it. "Okay, that's fuckin' it. I've had ENOUGH. We'll make his life hell. Looks like good ole Vincent has to come back out and get a new job, eh? They will regret the second they crossed me." Standing up, dripping purple and red, he turned to Old Sport. "Ya need a new name too for this." "... does Sport Old work?" Interested he asked, not particularly personally offended at Bear's actions, but CERTAINLY down to helping his friend destroy another place. That was what he was truly good at after all. "Yeah, it's fantastic! You're a genius, Sportsy!" Motivated Dave took his hand, his eyes still less brightly lit than usual and ran off. Phone Guy looked after them. For the poor kid's sake he hoped that whatever hellish portal they have come from would close up right behind them. He hated to think what havoc they would wreck at a location they DIDN'T care about.

[dccrossmusic-blog]

Well that'a a wrap- the D.C Cross Ecstatic Racquet album tour is complete! Thank you so much to all my new fans and old fans for the support! It was a lot of fun. I probably drove more than 10000 kms for the 9 shows- which is mental..it was all good until the car broke down in Albury on the weekend- keep reading and you can hear about the drama of the last 48 hours in point form!

Thanks to all the nice people, other musicians and venues and sound people and bar people at the places i played at. All thank you for the free beers, dinners and when people let me stay at the venue or their homes for free. Super mega thank you to Dusty Attic Music Lounge , Howl & Moan Records, Petersham Bowling Club, Plantbased Wholefoods, The Merri Creek Tavern , Franks Wild Years, Mounties and the Bridge Hotel Castlemaine (which is impossible to tag on Facebook).

So everyone is always crapping on about stuff that happens to them on social media but the last 48hours of my tour was quite eventful and i think entertaining for others. Here in point form i will mention the unfolding of the events.

Saturday 3pm Show in Thirroul - Sunday 3pm Show in Castlemaine, Victoria - a bit of driving (about 1700 kms there and back to Sydney) but pretty straight forward- right..what could possibility go right :/

•drive from Marrickville to Thirroul - so far so good

• play a cosy show to some nice people at Franks' Wild Years- very impressed german guy says that i am a beautiful musician and play the guitar like John Frusciante from the Chill Peppers - Brad other founding original member of Gerling comes to the show-a wonderful gesture of support

•Finish show in Thirroul and with a broken GPS head on the drive to Castlemaine, Victoria (about 845km's).

•Get tailgated on the Bulli Pass by some tradie fuckhead- a bit of an anxious 10 minutes but make it okay - our faithful 2004 Holden still seems to be okay.

•Drive for 5 hours on route to Albury as its more than halfway.

•100 kms out of Albury car starts shaking uncontrollably - i thought it was just the Hume Highway - so just cranked AC/DC and LANKUM new album on the distorted car stereo.

•60 km's nearer Albury situation with car gets worse- now know it was a busted CV crankshaft (no idea) and apparently quite dangerous

•Navigate car into Albury and call road side assistance. Sounds like i get a drunk Andrew Jackson Calvert type guy on the phone who relishes in the fact he can say that they can't help me and can tow the vehcile to a mechanic on Monday morning. It's 9.30 Pm Saturday night

•Find the cheapest accom in Albury -$66 a night and stay above a 2 floored techno beer barn full of teenagers on MDMA and very loud party remix / techno music going on. The room looks like was last renovated in the 1950's.

•Call the only guy i know in Albury and hit the RSL after Ross Wilson had just played. Didn't see Ross and damn glad i didn't hear 'Come said the Boy' the second most dodgy song in Australian Music History.

•Stash broken down car in Coles car park. Got to bed in backpackers with Digitalism's - Zdarlight blasting through the building.

•Awake sunday morning and hire car and drive to Castlemaine.

•An hour out of Albury a crazed fucktard - Chopper Reid vibe guy - cruising along in a shitbox Commodore with two kids bikes strapped to the back - a blue bike and little pink bike gets upset that i overtake him on the freeway. As im overtaking he speeds up- i was wasnt really checking my rear view mirror as as i was looking straight ahead to overtake- pretty legit an safe driving from me- anyway, Chopper Reid speeds up and whist i'm overtaking and gets really really mad..i do the thumbs up mate sign and makes him even more angrier..he follows my agrresively for the next 200 kilometres.. very intimidating - the most alarming thought of this was if he is driving so recklessly with two small kids in the car (nee the bikes) imagine what he would do if he caught up to me after 2 hours of full on road rage anger. Yep just what i need right now- anyway decide to James Bond him and speed up so he cant see me, speed into a truck parking side station behind a bunch of bushes- wait till i see him fly pass - teeth grinding trying to find me. Wait 5 minutes and commence my ongoing, fun-filled journey

•Castlemaine Bridge Hotel is a lot further than i calculated. And a path i have never journeyed before- no GPS is making trickier.

•3 hours later -- I ARRIVE! PHEW.

•The Bridge Hotel Castlemaine is a safe haven of coolness in all the chaos.

•Meet old friend Casey Rice at the Bridge Hotel and play two sets of my music to people actually listening to my songs- made the ordeal worthwhile and Skyscrapper Stan aka Stan Woodhouse - the kiwi songsmith works there as the barman- equally parts good and evil - that guy is a crackup..easing into the afternoon with a free pint of something, some comedy gold from Stan and a half price healthy dinner with green stuff in it (maybe vegetables- not on a burger bun so im a bit confused how to eat it ).

•Stay the night above the venue and get up at 4am to drive car back to hire car place. Venues alarm system goes off when i'm having a shower…find the exit and leave gracefully

•On the drive back to Albury - around 4.35am my phone GPS stops working and end up on some lonesome unused highway in a State Forrest in the middle of nowhere - using just my instinct to try and navigate back to Albury

•See a giant Pink moon setting over the trees in state forrest - i think heading towards Canberra (no idea) and makes the trip worthwhile

• Two massive kangaroos leap across the road just seconds away from me, right in front of the car- it's still pitch black - i narrowly avoiding hitting them (a split second before this happened a voice in my head said slow down, be careful, i dont wanna kill no kangaroos) - maybe it was the kangaroos mystical vibe -im not sure but seemed like divine intervention for the next 3 hours that we all survived.

•Some how make it to Heathcote, Victoria and get directions to the Hume Highway by a lady working at a servo with a magical hair braid getting hit on by the local milkman (why do all milkman look the same??) . I've never been happier to see the Hume Highway in my life. Listen to Highway to Hell - AC/DC on cd - my close friends mum gave my as a birthday gift she got from her work - a catholic girls schools - the library was throwing the cd out. Also LANKUM new song 'Wild Rover' that sounds equal parts Irish Rebel folk heroes/ Dirty Three and Tool - I'm having a moment.

•Eventually get back to Albury, put all my guitars and merch and amp back in broken car and return the hire car which was three times the amount i thought it would be cause i had driven extra kilometres.

•Get back in my barely drivable broken down car - Monday morning trying to find a mechanic in Albury to repair car. •Seems all mechanic in Albury are too busy- we can fix the car in 5 days time or are on holidays… Stranded far from home….

•Finally find a mechanic on the outskirts of town who can fix the car- drive barley drivable car around Albury trying to find the mechanic- stressing out front wheels will fall off - takes about 20 minutes without gps and hats off the bloke who gave me the best directions of my life to find mechanic.

•Mechanic looks at car and says its my lucky day - they have the spare part in Albury -which is very rare … a new crank shaft (no idea) - and he can fix it straight away ($500 seems reasonable ).

•Wait 5 hours in the belting Albury sun. Eat the biggest and best potato scallops ive ever had (from North Albury) and presto- hand over credit card and Car is fixed. Drink 2 litres of hot Mountain Dew and drive 6 hours and arrive home safely.

• Triumph scene from Rocky -Bill Contis 'Gonna Fly Now (Theme from Rocky) plays out in my head as i drink a beer and lie on the couch. Maybe next time i will fly.

• And thats what it takes to play two shows as an underground cult folk musician in Australia.

• Get Ecstatic

• And please buy my album on bandcamp to help pay mechanic - maybe a Xmas gift, coming of age …. en vogue vinyl experience

•Remember kids, "It's a JUNGLE out there!".

[karmanticmoved]

1-85 uwu

j esus okay

1. describe yourself.

uh,, emotional ig, dumbass, quiet, exhausted all of the time, v queer, healthy mix of feminine and masculine, insecure, and not tha t great tbh. kinda a pussy ass b itch

2. if you could go anywhere for a week all expenses paid where would it be?

idrk. maybe somewhere like a hella nice beach in another country, maybe somewhere in europe. i like travelling but i hate the travel to get there and have no money so i havent put thought into it. maybe hawaii or somewhere like that.

3. do you have siblings?

the one thats still alive is my half brother

4. what is your favorite constellation, why?

orion maybe bc i don't know a lot but i can see that one from my bedroom window even in the city n idk. its comforting. or scorpius cause i'm a scorpio

5. favorite color.

yellow, pink, or blue.

6. what kind of music do you listen to?

almost anything. whatever catches my interest.

7. favorite flower. (you can name as many as you want cause flowers are awesome)

forgot what i said last time but those

yellow carnations i think?

8. if you could do magic, what is the first spell you would learn?

maybe smth to put myself to sleep immediately bc f uCk

9. favorite childhood memory.

my summer camp memories are pretty great. also memories of my dad and i going fishing are good.

10. have you ever been cheated on?

i mean in theory i couldve been bc online relationships but no. n im polyam and have identified as such for a majority of my relationships so no.

11. if you could describe your perfect room, what would it be?

big but not too big, yknow? like big enough that it can be filled and have room to walk around and lay on the ground or whatever but not Empty. and a pretty big bed to stretch out on, n a closet in the room. multiple windows w blackout curtains so theres light but it can be blocked out. n fluffy rugs or carpeting but preferably rugs in case smth spills so we can get it out of at least Remove the rug. and probably a cat tree thing in corner for dipper. n a computer desk and actual lights that light up the whole room. but probably,, fairy lights too bc full lights too bright. and i kinda want a pink room but blue or yellow work also. a nd pride flags on the walls + posters and various other stuff bc plain walls are boring. and tons n tons of b ooks too.

12. favorite animal.

river otter

13. what was the last photo you took of?

cat

14. do you believe in soul mates?

i'm not sure. i do kinda think there are people who you will like. really really click with and who become so important in your life that they're like. apart of u yknow? but i don't think that anyone as an individual needs to keep those people in their life forever. they arent destined to stay with them, and they shouldnt force that relationship (platonic, familial, romantic, or whatever) even if they were close for years and years. screw destiny. youll have people you care about, and sometimes you have to break that bond to save yourself, and thats okay. there will be other people who can and will be just as important. that got kinda off topic skbsks. i don't think theres really like Destiny soulmates. but there could be like. soulmates in the sense of for however long we're together, we're soul bonded. even if its not forever. does that even make se nse skbsns

15. do you hang toilet paper over or under?

over is the one thats socially acceptable right

16. your go to place to eat & your favorite thing to get there.

idk theres a place near a movie theater closeish to my house and its a nice little cafe and i dont eat there bc i dont eat much in general but i get their bubble tea and i love. raspberry bubble tea w rose popping bubbles. its comfort drink.

17. do you believe everything happens for a reason?

no. sometimes shit happens for no reason, and its bullshit, but you can't reverse it, so you gotta figure out how to move on from it.

18. guilty pressures?

im assuming thats meant to be pleasures

umm,, idrk. i don't know what exactly i like that would count as a guilty pleasure so,,

19. favorite mythical creature, why?

merpeople are s o cool i fuckin. love funky aquatic pals hell yeah. maybe im just Water babey but. they're rad. dragons are also hella cool bc like dragons???? theyre scaly and prett y and can breathe fire or have wings and kill u?? also like selkies bc again. water. but i used to hear a lot of stories abt them and theyre so nea t

20. something most people don’t know about you.

i have the potential to be a huge asshole and also kinda Wish to fuckin murder someone sometimes but. i act nice most of the time anyway.

not murder murder but i can get angr y enough that i just wanna Stab smth

21. where did you grow up, what was it like?

grew up kinda near the edge of the city, still in it but not like the main city area. in western washington. it was kinda rly boring, i used to spend a lot more time outside or just by myself playing with leaves or toys or whatever. when i had friends i played make believe w them even when outside of school. so yeah. boring id say.

22. do you believe aliens exist?

sure.

23. what was your last google search?

other than names for some actors n stuff, i was looking up various star wars things

24. what did your last relationship teach you?

the one that like. ended? i guess thatd be. be careful with your own feelings and try to figure them out before jumping into anything, and also don't try to force smth that in reality isnt really working.

25. would you relocate for love?

honestly yeah

26. do you hold grudges or forgive easy?

both. it just depends on how badly i or someone i care about was hurt by it. more likely to hold a grudge if a friend was hurt by someone d eep enough to leave a lasting impact or if they don't get a genuine apology i will be 🔫🔫. or if the person keeps hurting them. even if that person is also my friend.

27. favorite book.

favorite graphic novel is bloom by kevin panetta

favorite books in general are autoboyography, more happy than not, and what if its us. all gay. i know. its okay. im a kinnie.

28. do you consider yourself an extrovert or introvert?

introvert by far

29. have you ever kept a journal, do you now?

i tried once. i probably will have to once i go see a therapist, or at least one for my Bad Thoughts

30. top 5 favorite movies.

in no particular order

little shop of horrors, love simon, coco, it (2017 and 1990), and shazam! ig? maybe others but i definitely Forgot all the shit ive watched

31. do you believe that everything happens for a reason?

no

32. what is your greatest fear?

definitely gotta be all of the people i love hating me and abandoning me or secretly hating me and then leaving me without saying anything. and the worst part is im always afraid its gonna happen babeyy

33. favorite alcoholic beverage.

im baby

34. most embarrassing thing you’ve done.

im embarrassed by my own existence. i don't remember the Most embarrassing thing

35. do you believe in ghosts?

not until i have proof that i can actually trust and believe in

36. what is the best and worst part of your personality?

idk ig im nice. but im also. very easily set off on certain emotions especially the bad ones which sucks like especially jealousy bc i dont wanna!! feel jealous!! tho i think that ties into my greatest fear bc my brain immediately tells me im useless to everyone and they hate me. but. sometimes i get jealous and then feel bad for that and then hate myself for all of it. bc my friends deserve to hang out w other people and care about other people im just fucking stupid babey !!

37. should you split the dinner bill?

i rly don't get why you wouldnt tbh like if u both wanna be there u should both pay. but if one person gonna pay it should be the person that asked.

38. are you a good liar?

most of the time. when it comes to my mental health i can either lie great or im literally breaking down in front of the person so

39. what keeps you up at night?

depressing thoughts. anxiety about everything. wishing i could cuddle and fall asleep w jay. sometimes i just cant sleep bc im too restless.

40. would you rather go without your phone or music?

music. i need my phone to text my friends and i Need my friends

41. do you believe in god?

what god would let the world get to the point its at. what god would allow people to do such fucked up shit.

no. i don't.

42. how do you relax when frustrated?

cry, take a nap, take a shower, listen to music, cuddle dipper

43. what’s something that offends you?

when people go "oh yeah i support gay rights but im still gonna eat at chick fil a bc its good" like i get so fucking. pissed off by that. youre not gonna fucking s ta rv e without their goddamn chicken. i know a bi person who goes there and says its okay bc they dont Directly Give Their money to Specifically anti gay organisations but im just. ugh. fucking pissed bc there are other places to get food just avoid the one place for fucks sake. their food is good it doesnt matter. its like saying yeah pewdiepie is a bad person and nazi and a racist asshole but his videos r funni haha so im gonna watch him anyway

44. favorite food

i hate myself whenever i eat food

45. if you were on a 10 hour flight and could sit and talk to any person the entire time, who would it be?

@destinedformuchmore or @pinaplelee

46. when do you feel the most confident?

never? but ig i feel confident when working on tech construction during theater tech. as long as i know what im doing.

47. what do you do in your free time?

sleep. draw. cry. play video games. talk to my friends.

48. is there anyone who has completely lost your respect

matpat did for being a dick abt neopronouns and making a transphobic joke and only apologizing when a cis person told him to. not when hundreds of trans people did. and also other jokes that are inherently offensive to various groups. a n d for making extremely not Child friendly jokes in his videos which are very much targeted towards kids. say what you will about the target audience, there are a lot of children who watch them. please stop making creepy nsfw jokes if you won't even swear, sir.

49. have you ever broken someone’s heart?

i guess so yeah. but she also broke mine first.

50. did/do you play sports in school?

i did. i don't anymore bc highschool sports are bullshit but. basketball, ultimate, and soccer.

51. when are you happiest?

talkin 2 jay prolly

52. coffee or tea?

tea

53. what is one possession you own you wouldn’t want to live without?

my binder. or my stuffed cat puppet thing ive had since i was 7

54. what is the first thing you notice about a person?

their general emotions, mostly. like if theyre in a good mood or if theyre bored or distracted or whatever. or if they seem interested in actually talking to me

55. what is your favorite season, why?

fall. my birthday, the atmosphere is nice, it's pretty, its hoodie weather.

56. what makes you laugh?

stupid little comments or jokes my friends make tend to make me laugh a lot harder than i should but jabdn

57. are you a clean or messy person?

a mix. i Cannot have some things messy or i will ksjqkd. Die but i don't make my bed too often bc its ha rd when its against 3 walls.

58. what is important for a successful relationship?

communication communication communicati

talk about ur goddamn problems n keep talking to each other.

59. what was your upcoming like?

if thats supposed to be upbringing

idk, very relaxed. pretty easygoing and kinda boring.

60. favorite holiday?

any holiday in december rly. i don't celebrate a Lot but the atmosphere and others celebrating is nice to see. i kinda wish my parents did more to embrace the jewish part in our family blike. whatever. christmas is fun.

61. what is the first thing you’d do if you won the lottery?

give half of it to my parents. and then probably use it for plane ticket

62. what’s the best pizza topping combination?

hawaiian pizza. pinapple n canadian bacon ty

63. favorite outdoor activity.

frisbee

64. how are you? honestly.

not great. i want highschool to end.

65. would you rather go camping in the woods or stay at a beach resort?

idk. camping is fun but if i get to stay at the resort for free i would rly love 2 stay at a resort tbh ive never done that

66. what is the most beautiful thing in nature?

waterfalls. or rivers or just. water in nature. and very green forests. aNd snow.

67. favorite type of candy?

none

68. if your life was a book, what would be the title?

i can and will do arson, an autobiography

69. what movie quotes do you use of a regular bases?

i quote john mulaney and whatever my obsessions are pretty regularly

70. what was cool when you were young but not cool now?

silly bandz. pokemon cards. these weird unicorn figures i collected

71. what’s the craziest conversation you have ever eves dropped on?

im mostly the one having the weird conversations

72. what’s the most interesting documentary you’ve ever watched?

i watched one about dogs and cats and their evolution which was lit

73. what’s the worst hairstyle you’ve had?

when i let the lady just go fuckin ham on my hair bc i was watching spirit that horse movie and didnt wanna stop so it was. rly bad bangs and hella short in back but not the sides

74. what do you like to cook?

whatever im hungry for. i don't have the energy to cook a lot

75. what’s the coolest animal you’ve seen in the wild?

really pretty tropical fish

76. what’s the funniest tv show you’ve ever seen?

idk. i rly like schitts creek its pretty amusing

77. do you usually follow your heart or your head?

heart at first but my head if things get bad

78. what is your favorite quote?

"i have a splitting headache and i think i'm dying. how are you?"

or a character just saying "try harder" when another failed to do smth.

this is supposed to be deep or whatever but im in a Mood

79. what’s the weirdest crush you have ever had?

once had a crush on a character in a minecraft parody lmao

80. what’s your love language?

sending shit that makes me think of them. n just. making tons of stuff for them both online and irl like bracelets.

81. do you ever feel alone?

oh yeah. all the time. im not but it feels like i am which sucks

82. ever been bullied?

yeah

83. are you usually early or late?

late bc of my parents rip

84. what kind of art do you enjoy most?

drawing, or writing. also theater.

85. what do you wish you knew more about?

i just wish i could remember everything ive learned more about. i know a lot i just forget all.

id like to know more about forensics tho

[wastelandcatartist]

Shitty things my mom does (feel free to add your own)

Me: Hey, mom, its my day off and I want to relax

Mom: Relax?????! You are so lazy!! All you do is sit on your phone!!!! You cant live through those yputubers go have a life!! Get out of the house once in a while!!! At your age I was woth your dad

Me: *rolls eyes bc ive heard it before* Okayyyyyyy sorry I asked to relax for once.

Mom: For once????! You give so much attitude!!! You are so.ungrateful!!!! You poor baby you dont know the stress i deal with with our money problems, ypu need to get a full time job or get a.second job!!!

Me: *nearly in tears, but handling it* Alright fine I wont relax. Geez. I just asked a question and you went.off on me

Mom: *proceeds to scream at me and get my dad to yell at me even though I am just sitting there taking it*

~~~~~~

Mom: *complains about millenials* *later says something i find offensive*

Me: Wow. That was rude.

Mom: Oh you poor millennial you want everything handed to you dont you? You want everyone to be happy froofroo nicey nice to each other dont you?

Me: Better than you generation.with their bullying and homophobic/racist stuff.

Mom: Oh that w a just being silly!!! And it.toughened us up!!! The world is cruel!!!

*later*

Mom: Why are you SO scared of.living on your own??? Dont be such a baby!! The world isnt so bad!!!

Me: *internally screaming*

~~~~~~

Me: *genuiniely forgets something*

Mom: Thats a poor excuse. You.didnt forget you just didnt want to do it. It wasnt something for YOU so you dont care you are so fucking selfish!!

~~~~

Mom: I was doing so.much more at your age. You are not an adult. You are a child. Age is nothing, it doesnt.make you an adult.

Me: *pissed off* Then how are you an adult?

Mom: you are so hateful! I go to sleep crying every night because.of the way you treat me.

~~~~~~~

Mom: If i do something that bithers you, tell.me and we can work ir out.

Me: (*thinking* wow! Things are finally turning around!!) Okay well *thing that genuiniely upsets me*

Mom: That bugs you???? Lol, you need to get over yourself.

Me: 🙃🤐

~~~~~~~

Mom: *once tore up any nsfw art I had at 15. Restricted anything or:13 or more and even cursing in comics* Why dint you like when im in your room? Are you hiding anything? What are you hiding? Drugs??

Me: ??!?!?!? You tore up.art you.didnt like because it was dirty even though I was a horny teenager and that was my way of working out those feelings????

Mom: I never did that. You are.lying. you.have always lied no one will ever believe you.

~~~~~

Mom: If you keep pissing me off I'm gonna punch you.

Me: Do it and I will call the cops on you.

Mom: you arent a minor anymore i can do it.

Me: ???its still assult??? Lmao

Mom: Do it. Your dad will defend me. He works for the jail. I will tell the cop that you are lying. You have lied so much to.me and your dad they will beleive me and not.you because.you are a.dumb kid.

~~~~~~~

Me: Hey. I'm 20. Can you treat me.more.like an.adult?

Mom: Sure. Pay this.much retn, this much bills, this much everything. You have to have it next week.or.else you will be evicted from MY house.

Me: You.know i dont make that.much a paycheck???? And this isnt what I was talking about???? You know this?????

Mom: I am.the parent you are the child. Get over it. No matter what i will be the adult and you will be the kid.

~~~~~~~~

Me: *shows my.mom something nsfw i did bc I was proud of.it, gave fair warning of what it wpuld be*

Mom; This.isnt talent. This is garbage. Why are you wasting.your talent

~~~~~~~~

Me: *draws fanart*

Mom: I wish you would make.ypur own works. Not cpoy someone else's creation. You habe potential. Use it. Go to.college.

Me: I cant.afford.college. I dont.make.enough to save.

Mom: Stop buying bullshit (art supplies to help.me). I know how. to save. I have taught you. I must be a failure.

~~~~~~~~

Me: *age 16* Mom I think I have bipolar disorder.

Mom: If you.really think thst call a therapist and set it up yourself. I habe watched you and.you.dint look like.you do, you are always smiling.

~~~~~~~

Me: *accidentally says 'we' when talking about the lgtb++ community, even though i have come out at pan repeatedly*

Mom: We???? Lol you arent GAY I have seen the way you check guys out.

Me: No but im.not straight. Im.pansexual. I habe told.you this.

Mom: Whatever.

~~~~~

Mom: *watvhing some transphobic piece of shit* Well, they do have a point that once you are a boy you are always a boy

Me: Abd thats what horomone replacement is.for???

Mom: Thats dangerous i don't get it. There are only two genders.

Dad: Even after surgery you are still a guy. Even if.you.look like a girl and act like a girl.

Me: ????thats awful and transphobic?????

Them: no way!! We love everyone!!!!

Mom: the inly ones that bither me are the nonbinaries. I will call THEM 'it'. I dimt get how they can be nothing. Women that are nonbinary just hate women. I refuse to call them they.

Me: *explains it.in a way she can understand*

Them: Dont.understand. wasnt in my generation. Doesnt make.sense. there are only.two genders.

Me: *red flags for homophobes and transphobes*

~~~~~~~~

Mom: i cant wait until you finally get a boy friend. *stops* or girlfriend or ITfriend. I want to see you happy.

Me: ?????????? How do i meet people

Mom: put.make up on and make.yourself.look nice and.not.like a scrounge once in a while. *also tries to set me.up woth COMPLETE STRANGERS I DONT FIND ATTRACTIVE*

~~~~~~~~~

Mom: *got.pissed when i was 12 and chatted online, telling me everyone I talked to was pedophiles*

*now*

Me: *chatting with online friends*

Mom: What are you doing?

Me: Checking notifications.

Mom: I bet you are talking to.your booooyyyyfriends oooooooooooooooo

Me: Nope.

Mom: Uh huh

Me: no.

Mom: Whatever. You are chatting eith strangers. You are an adult.if you.dint want.to.listen oh well.

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

Mom: You dont love the pets like.I do. You forget to feed an water them. Thats how.your dog died. (She died of old age :/)

(Also note i feed and wster them when i remeber AND do the cat litter AND play with them. She cuddles them and.pets them)

~~~~~~~~~~

Me: I think i habe depression.

Mom: No you dont. I do. Look at my self harm scars I habe always wanted to kill.myself. you smile how arr you.depressed??

~~~~~~~~~

Mom: *uses stuff from when I couldnt do things in my own against me, like changing my diapers*

Me: Hey this makes me feel bad about being alive and makes me wish I was mever born

Mom: Oh I'm joking. Get over it you sensitive snowflake.

(Feel feee yo add your own! My dad is a gaslighter and mental abuser, starting to realise my mom isnt a poor abuse victim. Theres a reason she loves my dad. Too much alike. Anyways I wanna hear your own!!!)

[raintheawesomewolf]

Depressed

So i was gonna come home and draw a bit today... But instead i found out i was fired from my job for a scene that didnt happen the way it was described.

According to my former boss i was fired because i dropped f bombs and argued with my lead because i couldnt take directions.

Here is what actually happened;

I started the day normal. It was a good day. But they swamped me with priority orders and even though i was still new, i took to the challenge because i felt rhey wanted to see if i would sink or swim... I wanted to swim like a fish in water with that job.

Then came time to package everything. I managed to do this on time. (Note: we can listen to music so im bustin moves while finishing these orders in timely fanshion. I feel like i need to mention this because for context... I work to a rhythm and i listen to a lot od trap to get stuff done quickly and accurately.) Anyways, one lead tells me take them and put them in individual bags so i go back and start doing that. Then another lead tells me i need to bulk package the order with the little bags inside with lables. At first i was confused and i tried to comunicate this. This is how it went; L1 for lead 1 and L2 for lead 2.

L1: "okay, so now that your done, take thes elittle bags and these labels and package them for shipment.

Me: "okay, so just place them in the individual bags, place a label and bring back up here?"

L1: "yup."

Me: "okay."

L2 sees me, stops me and goes: "No no no. You need to bulk them with labels and send them up. You need to just place them all in a bag and send them up for so'n'so.

Me: "-but L1 said i need to place them individually."

This is L2: "no, you need to put them in bulk so they can be qc'd (quality controlled for those of you who dont work in manufacturing) and they may come back for you to packag indevidually."

"Okay. I kind wish this was explained a bit better a little earlier but i can do it now that i know."

Apperently this was arguing with her. Me trying to clarify what she meant because she said it rather fast and confusing like.

The next that happeed was the labeling. I didnt know how they were placed. So i put them on knowing that if i got it wrong they were removable and i could fix it. I made a small joke and life carried on.

According to L2 this is where i dropped f bombs. And they had no patience for it. So they called the temp agency i was hired through and had me fired.

I work this job a week. And i fell in love with it. I loved the people. I love the work. And i love the job in itself. I clocked off. Went to my car and saw i had three missed called from the agency. I immediately thought there was a different problem than what they told me. This agency is notorious for stopping people from workimg or threating jobs because of not knowing enough people for references. This is what i thought their problem was.

No. I stead i was greeted with this.

Agent: "hi, Rainwolf1265, how is the job going?"

Me: "great! I really like it here. Its fun and i like the work!"

Agent: "well thats good, so there was any issues today?"

Me: "no, why would there be?"

Agent: "we recieved a called from MainBossMan that you were arguing with your lead and that you dropped f bombs and that you arent taking directions well? So they ended your assignment there today. They said they dont have the patience for it."

Me: "...what? ...i never... I mean i had a slight confusion today but i thought it got worked out by me trying to clarify."

Agent: "Thats a shame. Well they ended you assignment so i cant do much. If you want to give us a call in the morning we can see what else is available. Maybe this was a blessing in disguse?"

My thought at this point is, i just made friends here. I was doing well. I even started to be proud of working for this place and now i am being told they fired me. I was upset. And i communicated this.

Agent: "are you still there?"

Me: "...yeah, sorry. Im a bit upset right now. Im not exactly sure what i did wrong."

Agent: "i understand. Why dont you call in the morning and well figure something out."

At this point i agree, say goodbye to the guy. He was doing his best to be as sweet as possible because you could hear the shock and hurt in my voice. I sat in my car and cried. In the parking lot of the job i started to love and lost. And i cried all the way home.

I keep going over and over it in my head trying to find where i went wrong but i dont really see anything. And im worried i wont be able to pay my bills this week or next month.

As it is, my bank account is in the negatives because i was finaccially screwed to begin with. Now im jobless. Semi homeless. And going hungry and im not even kidding.

I live in a fifth wheel. My car is broken. I have no money to feed myself tonight and the only good thing i had going, a decent paying job that was respectable, is gone. I dont know how im going to make a single payment to my already massive debt.

And i honestly feel like a failure.

To my new friends who i made there... Im sorry. I will probably never see you again, but im glad i met you and we had good times. Thanls for putting up with me and my shinnanigans during break.

Thanks for reading... I needed to vent a bit. Im gonna go cry in my hole of shame. Where that seems to be the only place i belong until i call the agency tomorrow.

[theartofdreaming1]

The Taste of Something Stolen, Part 1: Beginning

Pairing: Batcat

Rating: T

Summary: Some people steal kisses. Selina Kyle is a thief by profession, she doesn’t have time for this touchy-feely stuff - if anything, she kisses in order to steal. However, whenever Bruce Wayne gets involved, her current theft usually ends up being a little bit of both.

A short series of loosely connected one-shots :)

It was Friday noon and seventeen-year-old Selina Kyle was observing the coming and goings of the Diamond District, Gotham’s financial district, her green eyes scanning the crowd for a target. So what if she was swiping some business shark’s wallets? They had their more than lucrative jobs to go to every day of their mundane lives - Selina, on the other hand, was going to be put out on the streets as soon as she was turning eighteen (not that the orphanage was a place she was gonna miss, but career opportunities were few and far between for an orphaned troublemaker from the East End - she was just making sure she had a financial cushion to fall back on when ‘Day X’ arrived.)

She had worked out a true and tested procedural method: with her backpack half open, she’d “accidentally” bump into her target (normally some boring middle-aged white man, as most of these suits were), the contents of her backpack would be sent flying across the ground, causing enough of a distraction for Selina to pick the (by now full on swearing) man’s pocket - by the time her target had finished cursing her out, Selina had safely stowed away Angry White Man’s money in her own pocket.

It wasn’t exactly the most fun method, but the satisfaction of a job well done as well as the fruits of her labor made it worth it.

This had been going on quite successfully for a couple of weeks now; so successful in fact, that Selina was getting a little bored if she was being honest with herself. Which is why Selina had decided to switch it up a little today.

Her newest mark was just now exiting Wayne Enterprises, wearing a simple, but very expensive-looking black coat and a brooding expression on his face. He appeared to be around Selina’s age and was already parading around the biggest companies in Gotham (the Rolex on his arm made it more than clear that he was not just some low-paid intern at WE) - the stark contrast between her own situation and Mr. Silver Spoon just affirmed Selina in her choice of a target: In a way, she was just leveling the playing field, if you really thought about it… She was simply… redistributing all that wealth a little among their age group...

As an added bonus, he was actually pretty handsome, something that would make the execution of her exit strategy, should she have to fall back on it, a little more bearable...

After making sure that everything was ready for her little maneuver, Selina shouldered her backpack determinedly and headed for the rich kid; apparently deep in thought, he didn’t seem aware of Selina gravitating closer and closer to him until - WHACK - they collided. Slightly stumbling backwards due to the force of their impact, Selina felt a strong, protective hand gripping her elbow - rich boy was actually making sure she wouldn’t fall (a nice, if superfluous gesture, Selina registered.) The stacks of loose papers and pens Selina had stuffed into her backpack practically exploded all over the ground. Rich boy took a closer look at her although not to see who he was going to yell at, as Selina expected him to, but to determine if she was okay. She must have looked alright to him, as he quickly withdrew his hand from her elbow, shot her a apologetic look and then went on to kneel down to gather her belongings...

Selina quickly dropped to her knees as well, grabbing for the useless notes and pencils scattered everywhere, making sure to keep up appearances.

Rich boy handed her a stack of papers, an apologetic look on his face.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going - did you just steal my wallet right now?”

The befuddled look on his face would have been amusing to Selina if this didn’t mean that she had been caught red-handed.

Before she could make a run for it, rich boy’s hand wrapped itself around her wrist - his grip this time a lot firmer than before.

“Give it back,” rich boy said - no, ordered; it wasn’t that Selina was surprised to find out that rich boy knew how to boss people around, but the authoritative tone in his voice, coupled with that steely look in his gray-blue eyes… it was a little unsettling.

But not enough to have Selina lose her composure; with a nonchalant shrug, she handed over rich boy’s wallet - it was then that she noticed the letters B and W that were engraved in the fine leather and something heavy settled in her chest.

And yet, that still didn’t keep her from getting her claws out instead of keeping her mouth shut:

“It’s not like you can’t afford it.”

Rich boy countered her provocative glare with an intensity she hadn’t been prepared for - it started off as a stern warning, but then turned into something more calculating, scrutinizing; she could feel his blue eyes scan every inch of her, taking note of her threadbare jacket and scuffed shoes.

As suddenly as it had come about, their staring contest ended.

“You’re right,” rich boy agreed calmly, opening his wallet to take out the bills inside - from what Selina could see, she would have assumed them to amount to about $500.

“I’d rather keep my wallet though - it’s a birthday gift,” rich boy told Selina sedately before holding the cash out, for her to take.

Selina just gave him a bewildered look. He was certainly the weirdest person she’d ever met. And his offer may be tempting, but she still had her pride:

“I don’t accept handouts,” she said simply, crossing her arms demonstratively.

Now it was rich boy’s turn to be perplexed.

“You would have just snagged it if I hadn’t noticed in time - but when I give it to you freely, you won’t take it?”

“I’m not just some charity case you can throw your money at, just so that you can feel like the great benefactor,” Selina replied disdainfully, “I’m not interested in money I haven’t earned.”

Rich boy seemed to consider her response earnestly. After a short moment of contemplation, he finally put his money back into his wallet and slipped it back into his coat pocket.

“Fair enough.”

Selina arched an eyebrow. She really couldn’t figure this guy out.

He gave her a shrug, “Well, don’t let me keep you from work.”

His sorry attempt at humor couldn’t conceal the disapproval embedded in his words.

Selina knew that there was no reason at all why she should care about some entitled rich kid’s opinion of her, but something about this guy just rubbed her the wrong way:

“Listen, Mr. High-And-Mighty: what I do is not so different from what all of these -” she gestured at the financial sharks roaming the plaza - “are doing here; at least I steal from the ones that can afford it.”

Rich boy put up his hands in a defensive gesture.

“I didn’t mean to be condescending and I’m not denying that you have a point about unethical business practices being a profound issue, especially in this city…”

He paused for a moment, then, an amused expression made its way unto his face:

“I guess I just don’t know what you say to a pickpocket when they decide to get back to “work”; - Break a leg?”

Selina raised an eyebrow again.

“Does this look like a theater performance to you?”

Rich boy only shrugged, a hint of a smile on his lips, before giving it another try: “Good luck?”

Now Selina was truly offended.

“I don’t need luck; I’m very good at what I do.”

He stared at her, quirking an eyebrow.

“You just got caught in the act,“ he pointed out incredulously.

Selina shrugged it off: “An outlier; doesn’t count.”

This time, a full-on smile played on his lips, “Oh, that’s how it is?”

Selina couldn’t help the pouty tone seep into her voice as she defended herself:

“People don’t just offer to help someone that ran into them! Your stupid niceness ruined my plan.”

“What was I supposed to be doing?” rich boy asked, his tone of voice indicating that he was both amused and curious.

Selina couldn’t believe that anyone could be that clueless, but she still decided to spell it out for him: “Yell at me that I should look where I’m going - add in a couple of insults and you are golden.”

“Even if I was the one who didn’t pay attention?”

Selina rolled her eyes.

“Of course.”

“Huh. I’ll keep that in mind for future reference, so as not to ruin your plan the next time around.”

Selina cocked her head to the side, the ghost of a grin on her face, “You really think I’m bold enough to attempt stealing from you again?”

Rich boy shrugged slightly, “You strike me as a very dauntless person,” he said quite matter-of-factly.

Selina smirked, taking a deliberate step forward, invading his personal space, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Rich boy appeared to be taken aback by her action, but he didn’t move away.

“It’s just an observation,” he said with a shrug, his voice wavering just the tiniest bit; but Selina knew that she was getting under his skin.

She tapped her chin in pretend thoughtfulness, her eyes glinting playfully.

“Hmh, there is an error in your reasoning, though.”

Rich boy knitted his brows, “What erro-”

But before he could finish his question, Selina cut him off by drawing him in for a kiss. She must have startled him for good, because it took rich boy a few seconds until hes started to respond to her lips.

Before he got too comfortable, Selina broke off the kiss, a wicked grin now adorning her face.

“You assumed I’d use the same trick twice.”

“Wha-”

His eyes flew to his coat pocket his hand fumbling for the fanciful engraved wallet. When rich boy finally managed to pry it out, a puzzled look appeared on his face.

“I still have my -”

When he looked up, Selina had already disappeared into the crowd.

“...wallet.”

His eyes scanned the plaza, searching for that mysterious, brazen girl who had just tried stealing from, and had ended up kissing him right here in public - but he couldn’t find her anywhere. With a curious feeling, he opened his wallet - to find that all the bills had been taken out.

Bruce couldn’t help the amused smile growing on his face, as he pocketed the wallet Alfred had given him for his eighteenth birthday.

“Hmh. Bold indeed.”

To be continued... here.

[joeycupcakerichter]

Justin Foley - Obligations

A/N: Okay, so this one deals with than a less than happy home life and a move I think Justin would make all day er’day because he doesn’t always think shit through.

Requested: Yes, by anon

Pairings: Justin x Reader

Warnings: Insinuations of abuse and living in a poor household. Alcohol father also.

Word Count: 1311

Prompt: 54. You’re not obligated to save me.

Masterlist

Your alarm blares for the fifth time before you finally crawl out of your bed. You just have no willpower this morning, thanks to the killer hangover you acquired from the night before. You can hear out in the living room that your parents are fighting again. Something about the electric bill, or maybe the cable bill? Probably both. You groan inwardly before sitting up and rubbing your eyes. You glance over to your phone to see no messages received, which was the first thing that actually surprised this morning. You send a good morning text to your boyfriend Justin before stripping off yesterday’s outfit and getting in the shower. As you go to step into the tub, you hear your phone buzz again. You eagerly pick it up to see a message from your service provider. You look at the phone, confusion washing over your features before you tossing the device on your bed and storming out into the living room.

“What the hell guys!” You shout, trying to be heard over your arguing parents. “Why is my phone shut off?” Your father glares at your mother before turning on his heel before storming out and climbing in his truck and shooting down the street. You turn to your mother, fuming. “What’s the point of me having a job when I can’t even have a functioning phone?” You shout.

“Your father blew all of our money at the bar last night. Apparently his tab needed to be paid.” Your mom says, sitting down and taking a drink out of her coffee. You could feel the sides of your face burning as your rage boiled up you stumbled over your words.

“What in the fuck do you mean?” You roar, rage getting the best of you. Tears starting falling down your mother’s cheeks and you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

“What would you have me do (Y/N)?” She pleads with you. You stand there before the broken woman, trying to muster up some words of comfort but all that comes to mind is the instance that she leave him. You didn’t care if he was your “father”. He was a piece of shit who had no interest in anyone but himself. You opt to silently hug your mother, knowing nothing you could say would express how you truly felt about the situation. She rested her hand on your arm, using her other to rub your back to comfort you. When tears subsided, you finished getting ready and started your walk to school. Normally you would ride with Justin and Zach, but since you had no way to get ahold of them, looks like you were walking.

As you turned onto the busy street that would leave you to school, you heard loud music and a horn honking behind you. You turn to see Zach and Justin looking at you, gesturing in confusion.

“The fuck (Y/N)?” Justin calls out once Zach come to a stop next to you. “Why didn’t you text me this morning?” You pulled out your phone and showed him the message from your service provider trying hard to keep your composure. Justin knew about your family, it was what drew you together. But that didn’t mean that you wanted him to know how much you struggled there. And this was just your dad blowing the phone and electric bill. You had been out last night when he stumbled home drunk and pissed but had you been there, it would’ve been a hell of a lot different.

“Damn, (Y/N). I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?” Justin asked, a look of concern covering his features.

“Unless you can somehow come up with 500 dollars so we can pay our bills.” You say shortly, knowing the likelihood of that was slim. He wore a contemplative look now, and said nothing. Zach looked from you to Justin and started to drive. He was cute, but boy was he dumb. His saving grace was he knew when to stay out of it. You didn’t want to hear the “easy” solution that most people have, it was the same one you wanted to offer to your mother this morning. Except it’s never that easy, your dad made the money for your family. It’s why he thought it was his to spend.

School was uneventful for the most part, Sheri getting on you at lunch about not texting her back until Justin tells her to shut up. She backs off, telling you she’d see you around. Great, more bullshit. You just wanted the day to end so you could go crawl into your bed and try to forget the world. Justin and Zach had practice after school and while you normally would stay and watch to cheer them on, you snuck off while they were getting changed into their uniforms. Plugging in your headphones, you privately thanked god for music and its ability to get your mind off everything.

When you cut the corner onto your street, you were surprised to see Zach’s Audi parked out front. As you neared, you could see Zach was still in the car and you were confused as to why he was even there.

“Zach, the fuck are you doing here?” You shout at him, emotion drained from your voice. He says nothing and points to the front door where you see Justin talking to your mom. She seems to be thanking him profusely, and even pulls him into a hug, definitely earning a raised eyebrow from you. Justin looks awkward as he breaks from the hug, spotting you over your mother’s shoulder as he mouths the word “shit”.

“Hey mom, what’s going on?” You ask warily as you walk up the front yard. You’re watching the two of them warily, half a million things running through your head.

“(Y/N), I was just talking to your mom about something, I wanted to help out.” He says cautiously.

“Help out with what?”

“(Y/N), honey, Justin gave us a little bit of money, to cover what your dad blew last night.” Your mom explained, words getting stuck in her throat as her voice wavered. Your eyebrows shoot up into what must be your hairline as you turn your gaze on Justin.

“I’m, uh, gonna be staying with Zach for a little while.” He tells you as he nods at Zach. He smiles at your mom, but you can see the anxiety in his eyes, he doesn’t want to talk about it here.

“I have to get this money in town before 5 so I can pay off these bills.” Your mom says, excusing herself from the two of you. “Thank you Justin, I’ll pay every dime of it back, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it Mrs. (Y/L/N). No rush.” He says warmly. Your mom plants a kiss on his cheek and beams at him before hopping into her car and speeding towards downtown.

“What the fuck did you do Justin?” You whisper angrily. “Where did you get that money.”

“Meth Seth just left it lying around. I wanted to help you.” He whispers back.

“You moron, he’s going to kill you!” You exclaim, emotion taking over your volume.

“I’m staying at Zach’s until I can replace the money. It wasn’t much. You said you needed 500, I’ve stolen more from that prick.” He tells you dismissively.

“You’re not obligated to save me.” You insist, tears threatening in your voice.

“Of course I’m not, but I want you to be happy (Y/N).” Justin pleads. You run your hands through your hair, nervously watching the street as if Seth would already know. “I just wanted to help you.” He says sadly. “I’d give up anything to see you smile. You’re everything to me.”

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Chapter 4 review in the house! Let’s go bb!

She hated this mostly because Will knew she was awake. He knew she was listening. She’d been an idiot for leaving her room in the first place. Her hangover was still present - still warm and damp - pumping sluggishly within the confines of her skull.

“Oh oh fuck oh fuck oh right there - oh shit, Ironhead - baby -”

Jesus H. Christ. They even called him that in bed? What a mouthful.

She wondered if anyone beyond her and the boys called him Will - it was so short and blunt. Almost plain. William was a little more elegant - a little more old-school.

Oh my goooooooooooooooooddddddd. The fact that some of the girls call him Ironhead in bed his hysterical. And I feel like this is his little revenge for their tif in the kitchen. the TENSION. 

She missed that. She missed the mundane repetition of paying her bills, doing her chores, and not wondering if the next day would bring with it her own death.

They aren’t going to kill you.

No - they weren’t. She felt that now - believed that now.

WE LOVE TO SEE IT. Progress BB!

Aren’t you gonna eat?

I did before.

She always used that excuse while nursing a sloshing glass of wine - red and probably expensive. Mulberry dark.

Are you sure?

Yes, Benny. I ate. I promise.

Frankie would raise an eyebrow, but stay silent. He knew. He always knew she was lying. It was her nerves. Her anxiety. Her stomach would turn over and her appetite would flit away.

“C’mon, daddy! Harder! Pleasee-“

Ew.

Okay, I love so many things about this. I love this part of your writing style that reads like how thoughts work. Does that make sense? It adds so much to the pacing and it really feels like these are my own thoughts. I just absolutely love it. 

Also--Frankie knowing. KNOWING. SAD PEOPLE RECOGNIZE SAD PEOPLE. Also, why am I really emotional about her not eating and being weak and the boys noticing and feeling bad about it? 

Also ALSO--I adore the ew with the ‘daddy’ notion. its so on brand. I bet Will hates it too. 

Her insecurities reared their ugly little heads at the thought. Was she not pretty enough for him? Marissa had been beautiful. Not even hot or sexy, but objectively lovely.

She was just a drunk. Clumsy. Bare-faced. Desperate.

I really want her and Marissa to be friends for some reason. If not like buddy buddy, just like pleasant allies. I cant explain it. 

Good to know that he was a fucking maniac in bed just like he was a maniac outside of it.

You like it.

Damn right we do. 

She idly wondered how each of them fucked. Pope probably did it strictly from behind. He probably did it in his three-piece suits and his Gucci shoes while making business calls through his airpods.

Benny was a wild card. Playful at times, but still able to fist your hair and force you over a table. The kind of guy who’d fuck anywhere - everywhere - judging by the amount of surfaces he’d claimed he’d spoiled in the house.

Frankie? She still didn’t have a read on him. He made her think feral and desperate. Sloppy sex where you’re just tugging panties and zippers down far enough for him to sink inside you. He’d shove you onto your knees - take you on the floor - slip down your body and lick -

No.

She needed a new distraction - needed to pull out the big guns to get her head out of the proverbial gutter. She grabbed the remote and scrolled until she found Schindler’s List.

IM D Y I N G. LMFAO

Pope fucking in his gucci shoes and airpods. Its too much and yet so accurate and yet HILARIOUS. He is so closed off from her its like she cant even imagine the vulnerability that comes with being naked. Its so intriguing because we know that will CHANGE. 

Frankie feral and desperate. And she has described herself as desperate multiple times? Hmm...HMM....Im side eyeing the computer screen right now. But also....W O O F. 

But Will suddenly - inexplicably - craved something different. He wanted inelegance. He wanted sloppiness. He wanted her - frantic and soft as she yielded to him. Her big eyes shiny in the dark as those lips parted underneath his tongue. He wanted her sweat and her squeak of surprise when he sheathed himself to the hilt. He’d stretch her open - fingertips pressed to her perky little clit to slick her up so she could accept him more easily. He wanted her laughter as both of them attempted some position they couldn’t work out. He could imagine it - their foreheads smacking together as they lunged for each other - having to flip her onto her back so he could take over the work.

Why her? Why?

He barely knew her. He had hardly spoken to her. She was just a girl.

This is beautiful. This is so fucking beautiful. I love when you switch POVs because the TONE changes and it is purely your incredible fucking talent. I love watching Will’s inner struggle of the simple W H Y. He is a man that is firm in who he is and what he is and now he doesnt know anything and it is amazing. 

The women tonight were ones he’d had countless times before. They were professionals. They never tired. They never flinched or fled. They knew exactly who and what he was - what he did - and they liked it.

Weve talked about this but you know how I feel about this notion about sex work and how it is spot on and accurate and love it. 

I would like to know the rumors about Will. What other gangs say about him. How he is the big bad that belongs to Santi. I LOVE YOUR LORE DROPS.

Faire would, though. She wouldn’t have any qualms about telling Will what she liked - what she didn’t. He knew by looking at her. There was aggression behind her teeth - a predator-like intelligence that he hadn’t given her credit for when he’d first met her. She was getting comfortable - getting used to them. He was getting used to her.

I love the notion that Faire is not as delicate as she seems and that we are realizing that and the boys are realizing that as well, now we just need Faire to realize that. 

He’d never admit it, but he felt shame - real and true and sharp inside his gut. Not really for what he’d done because every person he got rid of deserved it, but because he realized that he had just changed her for good. She’d watched him kill a man twice and that shit didn’t leave you. He’d marked her in blood and he knew that she would never look at him as anything else, but a killer - a brute.

My heart is BREAKING. But I know that you will show us that Will can be soft...FOR HER. One of my favorite tropes of all time is the ruthless badass that has a gentle streak for ONE person. 

He needed to come. He needed to come and get this shit out of his system. He was on edge and his head felt too heavy - felt like it might just roll right off his neck.

I doubt there’s anything you could give me.

The vein at his temple throbbed. The muscles in his neck jumped.

Not sure how I’ll ever sleep after watching you work.

He grit his teeth and lunged for Lisa, pinning her to his bed. He forced her knees wide - opening her up to him before burying himself to the hilt. She grunted from the heft of him - from his weight and his calloused hands circling her wrists. He fucked her hard - short, fast strokes that made the headboard smash into his wall and the frame creak. She was screaming now:

“Oh fuck - oh fuck - oh oh oh - fuck, daddy! You feel so good - oh yes - yes - yes. Make me cum on your big fat cock..”

He winced. She’d hear them no doubt and he might have wanted her to hear a little, but certainly not this much. This was obnoxious and some strange part of him suddenly felt uncomfortable with her being forced to listen to them.

“Shut up,” he hissed before he clamped his hand down over her mouth. She nipped at his flesh - unbothered - seemingly more excited. He increased his pace - grinding down to rub hot and fast against her clit. Every stab of his cock was punching muffled yelps from under his palm. He could not get off - he couldn’t stop his head from whirling with his unsteady thoughts - the last few weeks - her fucking face. He dropped his head to Lisa’s throat and screwed his eyes shut.

It’d be wrong to think of her.

Since when have you done anything right, Miller?

He could pretend.

His THOUGHTS. Him remembering what she said when she was scared of him and hurt and angry and fucking out his frustrations. ITS TOO MUCH AND IT HURTS. 

I need a minute. Him putting his hand over her mouth. Jesus. I need a few minutes. and he is thinking about Faire and scolding himself for it? This is so much. This is TOO MUCH. 

He could imagine it. He could picture the way her brows would pinch together as he gingerly breached her inch by inch. She’d blossom around him - her blunt nails buried in his shoulders. He’d be careful about it. He’d take her in slow, lazy thrusts. He’d kiss her - tongue mimicking the gentle pace of his hips. His hands on her jaw - his thumb nudging the tender flesh of her cheek. She’d be dripping and molten and she’d pant into his open mouth: Will. Will. Will.

Him imagining how he would fuck Faire and how it is so different than how he is fucking these girls just a few seconds ago and him wanting her to say his name. Im SOFT. Im OVERWHELMED. WILL. MY WILL.

“What the hell, Benjamin? She was so fucked up she threw up for half an hour.”

“I-I don’t really recall, Fishy Fish,” he slurred. “I thought we had like two drinks.”

“You’re holding up three fingers, you fucking idiot.”

FISHYFISH. White. girl. wasted. lmfao

Okay - he also didn’t necessarily want to take advantage of her. He was a jerk - an asshole to a degree, but he liked her. She was disarmingly funny. They’d be watching a movie and she’d drop some one-liner that made him choke on his drink. Her humor was just dark enough - dry enough and even though she held herself at a distance from him, he still felt her.

BENNY. HAS. FEELINGS. 

Scars.

They littered the surface of him. Raised pale tissue roping across the expanse of his shoulders - down the curve of his spine. A thousand fucking cuts - it had to be. Too many to count.

I cannot wait for this. I want it. I want the angst. I want it so much I can hardly BREATHE. Was it Baron? Was it a different gang? Are they burns or knife scars? Or something else? 

His reaction was immediate and furious. He lurched away from her - spinning around as his hands flew to her throat. He held firm - thumb digging into her artery. His gaze was distant and his teeth were bared. He had her flush to him so she could feel every inch of him - the hot surface of his body pressed to hers.. Her tits crushed to his stomach - the limp bulge of his dick swinging into her. His nostrils flared and he didn’t look like the Benny she knew. He looked like the Benny who had stormed into the penthouse a week ago with his sleeves sodden in blood. The Benny who had forgotten her for a moment.

She wrapped her fingers around his forearm and squeezed. “Benny,” she squeaked as he dug harder - tightened his grip.

A second. Two. Three. Four.

He blinked - shaking his head before his pond-blue eyes widened in surprise. He said her name and quickly released her, stepping backward.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “Sorry - fuck - I didn’t - I didn’t know - I thought you were asleep.”

“It’s fine,” she replied - rubbing at the tender skin beneath her jaw. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

She had touched his scars. She had touched something that was vulnerable - that was painful for him. She knew that instinctively. She knew that was why he had reacted so violently.

I love this. I love the wounded animal turned ferocious. He is a tiger that is backed into a corner and you have seen his weakness so he is going to lash out. Im sure he has memories. PTSD? Panic attacks? I just know that we are going to get to see more of that and that Faire will be there. Give me the angst AND the Hurt/comfort. 

“Are you mad?”

It wasn’t the question that surprised her, but the way he asked it. There was no inflection of a tease in his voice. It was genuine and curious and concerned- like a little boy who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

She stepped away from him - suddenly far too close. “No, Ben,” she said. “I’m not.”

ARE YOU MAD? ARE. YOU. MAD.????? BENNY. BABY BOY. OMG. 

“Funny,” she remarked with exaggerated confusion. “Only thing I remember from last night is Frankie helping me into the shower.” Benny’s mouth dropped open - his eyebrows hitting the top of his hairline. She brushed past him - squeezing his shoulder - pointedly ignoring the way the muscle flexed under her hand and his cock may or may not have twitched.

THAT LITTLE SHIT. Omg this was so satisfying. Because of course she is irked that he fucked another girl even though she knows that that is ridiculous but that jab about Frankie putting her in the shower.../chefs kiss/ AMAZING. 

Then - Will. She so rarely saw Will dressed up that seeing him tonight made something between her legs pulse. The dove-grey of his blazer reflected the shadowed cobalt of his eyes. His wheat-locks swept behind his ears and when he’d caught her gaze, he’d grinned. Those big scintillating white teeth that made it impossible not to look away. Ironhead in all of his glamour - his image sharpened and honed to something deliriously untouchable and dangerous.

“Be good,” he teased and she’d sent it right back.

“Have fun, dear.”

This makes me weak in the knees. 

That outfit. also how hs is always telling her to “be good” and “behave”. ugh that speaks to me. growth. 

“Who are we meeting tonight again?” Benny grumbled beside him.

“No idea,” Frankie replied.

He groaned. “Why’d I have to come then?”

This feels like a set up....how do they not know who they are meeting? hmm

Benny quickly gestured to Frankie. “He got her in the shower.”

“Because you got her drunk and took advantage of her,” Frankie accused. Ben made a face - exaggeratedly mouthing the words back to him.

“Mature,” he retorted and Ben laughed.

Will’s hooded gaze darted between them. There was a slight twitch at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t look all smug, William,” Benny said as he set his eyes on his brother. “You creep around her all the time.”

“Do I?” His tone was flat - unimpressed.

Benny sat up in his seat before lowering the register of his voice to mimic Will. “Oh wow - these quesadillas are the best I’ve ever had. You’re so talented and beautiful and I want to rail you over the counter.”

Will’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

I was HOWLING with laughter through this whole exchange. You have nailed their voices so perfectly I cant even describe. I can HEAR them. Its incredible. Also all of them being obsessed with her in their own ways, Pope is going to have a STROKE. 

Fact was he was unstable and unpredictable. A rattlesnake without a tail. If he found out about Faire…

I love this fucking metaphor. I want to know more about him asap. DANGER. 

‘Your boys teach you that?” he chuckled - red - so much fucking red all over his face.

The other one smiled - teeth glistening in the dark. There were black dots flashing at the corner of her eyes. She’d really rocked her head. Didn’t matter. It didn’t.

Just protect yourself until they get there.

Your boys teach you that? YOUR BOYS TEACH YOU THAT? IM SCREAMING.

“We got half of what we wanted,” the man corrected. “You’re also on the To-Do list.

WHATS THE OTHER HALF

“They tried to hide you from him,” he taunted. “Not very well it seems since they left you all alone.”

HE KNOWS. BARON FUCKING KNOWS ODESNT HE? HOW? OMFG. NO.

He was off her. She could breathe again. She blinked as she watched a force yank Jack up like he weighed nothing, but feathers.

Will. His face appeared - pale in the gloomy kitchen - his nostrils flaring - his jaw tight as a drum. He grabbed the man by the throat and there were no words - just grunts - just something guttural rasping from his chest. He forced him to the floor - smoothly straddling his waist.

Im so relieved I could cry. I am living for this relationship between her and Will. This intense protector and damsel. Finally Will is using his ruthlessness to protect something soft and sweet and kind and its just a lot and I feel like this is being specifically catered to me but I know it is just part of the story but I feel special and its incredible. Will. WILL. Husband Material CAPTAIN WILL MILLER. 

She felt arms around her. Benny’s jaw scraped across her temple. He tried to turn her around. “C’mon, babe. You don’t need to see -“

But she did. She wanted to. They’d - they’d tried to hurt her.

She found herself focusing on the tiny details of Jack as Will strangled him: the shag of curls- the bushy eyebrows - the hair-covered hands uselessly hitting out at Ironhead like it would make a difference.

She watched and Will caught her gaze - his brow furrowing for a moment before he relaxed - reading her - understanding her. Those unsettling eyes bored into her own. He held her line of vision - he held her in a way.

It’s okay. He seemed to silently tell her. It’s okay. I’ve got this.

The man’s head went slack. One eye wide open and the other half-mast.

Her fear began to dissolve. The adrenaline receded like the tide, making room for something brighter. She could taste and breathe. Her vision cleared and everything softened. It was a relief.

They’d come for her. They’d saved her.

The wave of relief that came over me is so intense I could cry. The silent exchange with Will, he wanting to watch because those men hurt her and now the men on HER SIDE are giving them what they deserve and her feeling like the CAME FOR HER. Im a mess. a fucking mess. My pulse is racing and the pacing of this chapter is INCREDIBLE. 

“How the fuck did they get in here?” Frankie rumbled as he stalked into the kitchen. She jerked again at the loudness of his voice - at his anger.

Benny mumbled something to Fish over his shoulder and he quickly went over to her. He stuffed his gun back into his jacket before crouching to meet her eyes. He touched her cheek gently - his thumb smoothing over her jaw. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean - are you okay?”

Feral Frankie. Im living for it. And the cheek touch. and I just....fuck. 

I love them being impressed with her fighting back. With them talking to her and distracting her. Frankie touching her and speaking softly before ripping the glass out of her foot. I feel like so many lines have been crossed tonight. so many walls have been broken down. They are touching her so freely right now because it is obvious that they are not the enemy anymore. they are SAFE. 

“Pope will want to talk to you,” Will continued. “Figure out if they said anything helpful.”

“Can’t I just tell you?”

He cast her a sidelong glance. Surprised.

“Still not crazy about Pope, huh?”

“He’s fucking mean.”

“He has his reasons.”

“I don’t believe you.”

I love this. Will needed this. The fact that even though she watched him kill someone she would rather talk to him than Pope. Pope feels just so out of reach right now. untouchable. 

“We’re gonna teach you self-defense or something, too.”

“You gonna be my teacher?”

His mouth broke into a broad, blinding grin and it made her heart shudder. He was devastatingly good looking sometimes. “I can if you want me to.”

“We’ll see.”

P L E A S E. 

Theyre gonna tell her everything. OMG. LETS GO. 

I honestly dont know how you do it. This is one of the best things I have ever read and Im so glad you are getting all of the praise you rightfully deserve. Thank you so much for giving us this gift. 

watch your step (4)

Pairing: TF Boys x F!Reader Wordcount: 12.2K Warnings: gore. alcohol abuse. kidnapping. eventual reverse harem. rough smut. group sex (ish). hair being touched/pulled back. violence. prostitution. brief mention of sexual assault. daddy kink. Summary: The boys have a conversation. A/N: OMG. After days of eye agony, I finally got this together. Huge thank you to @frannyzooey who literally saved my ass by helping me reorganize the scenes in this to help with tension and action and ETC. Also, my bb @krissology who read through this for me and provided her deliciously pervy support. Hope you enjoy my loves.

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He certainly didn’t keep it down. She stared up at the ceiling - clenching her teeth. Echoing feet away from her was the distinct thwack thwack thwack of a headboard meeting a wall. Slapping wet skin and low grunts. High-pitched moans and a keen all warped in obvious pleasure.

I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.

She hated this mostly because Will knew she was awake. He knew she was listening. She’d been an idiot for leaving her room in the first place. Her hangover was still present - still warm and damp - pumping sluggishly within the confines of her skull.

“Oh oh fuck oh fuck oh right there - oh shit, Ironhead - baby -”

Jesus H. Christ. They even called him that in bed? What a mouthful.

She wondered if anyone beyond her and the boys called him Will - it was so short and blunt. Almost plain. William was a little more elegant - a little more old-school.

She twisted onto her side - kneading her pillow with her fists. The room was dry and cold, but her sheets were damp with her own alcohol sweats. Gross. She really needed to work on her drinking - curb it at the very least. Even now - she wanted it - wanted something. If she wasn’t so terrified she’d run into the others, she would have snuck back down into the bar and snatched a bottle of wine or the remainder of that whiskey.

Just to take the edge off. Just to feel less boxed in.

She swallowed as she tried to get comfortable. Her throat was tight and her tongue heavy as packed clay. It was hard for her to sleep (not because she was currently in a rather fucked up situation), but because she was used to being up all night. She always took the late shifts at the diner because they offered a bit more money even if it meant more handsy drunks. She’d had a routine - a habit. She’d get home by four and sprawl out on the couch - maybe make herself a screwdriver. She’d stuff herself into some sweats and old socks and watch those grainy infomercials or TBS reruns. Her mother was usually passed out so the house was hers. Fragile and falling apart. Creaking. Filled with its old ghosts, but hers all the same. Usually - she’d pass out by the time the sun was prim and pale in the sky and then she’d sleep until afternoon.

She missed that. She missed the mundane repetition of paying her bills, doing her chores, and not wondering if the next day would bring with it her own death.

They aren’t going to kill you.

No - they weren’t. She felt that now - believed that now. But there were still questions that needed answers. There were still details that had to do with her father that Pope refused to give her. Granted - she’d spent most of her time avoiding him and self-sabotaging with their wine cellar.

Stop drinking. Get your shit together. Grow the fuck up because moping around won’t solve shit.

Alright - fucking fine. Easier said than done, but fine. She was already feeling the physical ramifications of how much she was putting away daily.

There was a constant pain sweeping up her esophagus. It burned and bubbled right beneath her breast bone. Acid reflux. She probably had an ulcer, too. The stress. The drinking on an empty stomach. Yes - she cooked, but she barely ate anything. A spoonful of soup or mac and cheese before she served it to the men - her captors because that’s what they were. That was a fact.

Aren’t you gonna eat?

I did before.

She always used that excuse while nursing a sloshing glass of wine - red and probably expensive. Mulberry dark.

Are you sure?

Yes, Benny. I ate. I promise.

Frankie would raise an eyebrow, but stay silent. He knew. He always knew she was lying. It was her nerves. Her anxiety. Her stomach would turn over and her appetite would flit away.

“C’mon, daddy! Harder! Pleasee-“

Ew.

She reached her hand across the blankets - searching for the remote in the dark of her bedroom. Her fingers closed around it and she snatched it up, turning on the Apple TV and choosing something that could drown out the noises coming from Ironhead’s sex dungeon.

Apocalypse Now.

Good enough.

But not even ten minutes later, she was distracted. All of them were fucking other women a wall and floor away from her. It’s not like it mattered. It really didn’t. This was their house and if they wanted to have some wild orgy then good for them.

She touched her mouth - drawing her fingertips over her lower lip. Benny had kissed her only hours ago.

No - you kissed Benny. He just leaned into it.

Whatever. It’s not like she wanted it to go beyond that. She was loose and buttery and warm with arousal and Benny was gorgeous. She had her reasons. Keep your enemies close - closer? Like between your legs closer? Fuck. Just stop.

Still - she’d be lying if there wasn’t some small piece of her that twinged with bitterness because he was surely sticking his tongue in someone else only yards away from her. Her insecurities reared their ugly little heads at the thought. Was she not pretty enough for him? Marissa had been beautiful. Not even hot or sexy, but objectively lovely.

She was just a drunk. Clumsy. Bare-faced. Desperate.

Fuck. Thank God Will had stopped her from humiliating herself by going down there. They had to be done soon. It’d been almost two hours. She lowered the volume on the television as she pricked her ears.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

Nope.

Rolling beneath the snap of his headboard were the whimpers and frantic uh uh uh’s of one of the girls that Will was no doubt balls deep in. Cool.

Good to know that he was a fucking maniac in bed just like he was a maniac outside of it.

You like it.

Okay. Fair. If she were being honest with her dark passenger, she did like it rough. She liked brutal hands and fierce kisses and the kind of sex where she could barely breathe - barely speak as she held on tight to their muscular shoulders or tapered waist.

She idly wondered how each of them fucked. Pope probably did it strictly from behind. He probably did it in his three-piece suits and his Gucci shoes while making business calls through his airpods.

Benny was a wild card. Playful at times, but still able to fist your hair and force you over a table. The kind of guy who’d fuck anywhere - everywhere - judging by the amount of surfaces he’d claimed he’d spoiled in the house.

Frankie? She still didn’t have a read on him. He made her think feral and desperate. Sloppy sex where you’re just tugging panties and zippers down far enough for him to sink inside you. He’d shove you onto your knees - take you on the floor - slip down your body and lick -

No.

She needed a new distraction - needed to pull out the big guns to get her head out of the proverbial gutter. She grabbed the remote and scrolled until she found Schindler’s List.

***

They were good. They were always good. They knew what to say and how to say it. They knew his kinkier inclinations and allowed him to do as he wished. Some mild choking. Some bondage. Occasional knife play.

But Will suddenly - inexplicably - craved something different. He wanted inelegance. He wanted sloppiness. He wanted her - frantic and soft as she yielded to him. Her big eyes shiny in the dark as those lips parted underneath his tongue. He wanted her sweat and her squeak of surprise when he sheathed himself to the hilt. He’d stretch her open - fingertips pressed to her perky little clit to slick her up so she could accept him more easily. He wanted her laughter as both of them attempted some position they couldn’t work out. He could imagine it - their foreheads smacking together as they lunged for each other - having to flip her onto her back so he could take over the work.

Why her? Why?

He barely knew her. He had hardly spoken to her. She was just a girl. She was young and out of her depth and now chained to them.

The women tonight were ones he’d had countless times before. They were professionals. They never tired. They never flinched or fled. They knew exactly who and what he was - what he did - and they liked it. He was Pope’s muscle - Pope’s blade and bullet and axe. He was a weapon in every sense of the word and he’d killed more people than he could count. He’d been this way since he was a teenager. He was good at it - fantastic at compartmentalizing and Santi needed him. He was the big bad who had enough rumors and myths circulating around him that most didn’t know the truth of it - of him.

It was simply easier to fuck the women Santi had on his payroll. No strings. No feelings. No girls who wanted to ride him because he was who he was. Before he had gotten smart to it, there had been plenty of those types. Women who thought they could save him. Women who just wanted to have someone that dangerous inside them. It got old fast.

No - Will was perfectly content with the professionals.

They arched and posed perfectly. Thighs spread and ass up. They spoke like pornstars. No disagreements - complaints. How do you want me, baby? How do you need me?.

Faire would, though. She wouldn’t have any qualms about telling Will what she liked - what she didn’t. He knew by looking at her. There was aggression behind her teeth - a predator-like intelligence that he hadn’t given her credit for when he’d first met her. She was getting comfortable - getting used to them. He was getting used to her.

And for what?

He highly doubted she wanted him after she’d watched him work. Will rarely mused over the things he did for Santi - over the things he did for his family. It wouldn’t serve him. It would just slow him down.

Her face though...her face when he’d turned around and seen her curled into her knees. Her voice was quiet and barely-there - thin as cobwebs and hitched on a sob. Yeah - that had really fucked him up. He’d never admit it, but he felt shame - real and true and sharp inside his gut. Not really for what he’d done because every person he got rid of deserved it, but because he realized that he had just changed her for good. She’d watched him kill a man twice and that shit didn’t leave you. He’d marked her in blood and he knew that she would never look at him as anything else, but a killer - a brute.

A soft hand gripped his thigh, forcing him out of his thoughts.

Oh. Right.

“Fuck, Ironhead,” Lora? (Lena?) moaned as he snapped his hips against her ass - cock punching deep. The other girl, Lisa, was behind him - sucking a mark into his neck - stroking his arms - slipping her long nails down the flat lines of his abdomen.

“I want next,” she cooed into his ear - tugging roughly on the ends of his hair. He shut his eyes - thinking of something - anything.

“C’mon, baby,” Lorna begged. “C’mon - just like that.”

He sped up - his fingers digging into the plump of her ass as he rocked against her. There was sweat dripping down his back. The sounds in the room were obscene: wet sucking flesh entering flesh and the girls kept hitting a different pitch with their shrieks.

“Get her off,” Will growled to Lisa. She did as he asked - reaching beneath them to circle and stroke at Lorna’s cunt. Just fucking end. Just end. Lorna cried out - thighs wavering as she clamped down around him. “Fuck yeah, baby. Oh my god - you’re so fucking big - fuck.” He shifted her to the side after, easing himself out. She went lax as a doll - totally boneless. He dragged his fingers through his damp hair as he tried to catch his breath.

“My turn,” Lisa grinned - shoving Lorna nearly off the bed.. Will cut her a sideways glance, forgetting she was there. He was still hard as a rock - cock jutting against his belly. Throbbing and full and desperate for something else. The condom was soaked and sticky.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Be rough, daddy,” she demanded. “You can make it hurt.”

Christ.

He needed to come. He needed to come and get this shit out of his system. He was on edge and his head felt too heavy - felt like it might just roll right off his neck.

I doubt there’s anything you could give me.

The vein at his temple throbbed. The muscles in his neck jumped.

Not sure how I’ll ever sleep after watching you work.

He grit his teeth and lunged for Lisa, pinning her to his bed. He forced her knees wide - opening her up to him before burying himself to the hilt. She grunted from the heft of him - from his weight and his calloused hands circling her wrists. He fucked her hard - short, fast strokes that made the headboard smash into his wall and the frame creak. She was screaming now:

“Oh fuck - oh fuck - oh oh oh - fuck, daddy! You feel so good - oh yes - yes - yes. Make me cum on your big fat cock..”

He winced. She’d hear them no doubt and he might have wanted her to hear a little, but certainly not this much. This was obnoxious and some strange part of him suddenly felt uncomfortable with her being forced to listen to them.

“Shut up,” he hissed before he clamped his hand down over her mouth. She nipped at his flesh - unbothered - seemingly more excited. He increased his pace - grinding down to rub hot and fast against her clit. Every stab of his cock was punching muffled yelps from under his palm. He could not get off - he couldn’t stop his head from whirling with his unsteady thoughts - the last few weeks - her fucking face. He dropped his head to Lisa’s throat and screwed his eyes shut.

It’d be wrong to think of her.

Since when have you done anything right, Miller?

He could pretend. He needed to knock her out of his system - he needed to expel her. It was just because he felt bad. It was just because he found her lovely in a way that kind of hurt. He did better with harder women -the women with too much make-up and dirty words and tight skin.

She was soft. She bit her lip when she cooked. She smelled like linen and soap and the lush floral sway of spring. She was natural.

He could imagine it. He could picture the way her brows would pinch together as he gingerly breached her inch by inch. She’d blossom around him - her blunt nails buried in his shoulders. He’d be careful about it. He’d take her in slow, lazy thrusts. He’d kiss her - tongue mimicking the gentle pace of his hips. His hands on her jaw - his thumb nudging the tender flesh of her cheek. She’d be dripping and molten and she’d pant into his open mouth: Will. Will. Will.

Maybe - she wouldn’t even want it slow. Maybe. Maybe.

There was the slide of her cheek against his own - her muffled little uh uh uh as he drove into her again and again.

“Yeah, baby,” he muttered - pressing his lips to where her shoulder met her neck. He circled his hips - planted his knees. “Just like that, yeah? You feel so fucking perfect.”

Her pussy spasmed - jerking him forward. It was deliciously tight as it grasped and held him. He followed after a few clumsy pumps - his knuckles curling around the edge of his mattress as his other palm fell from her mouth.

“Shit,” Lisa gasped. “That was amazing.” She smacked his ass and it felt like a rush of cold, clear water over his head.

For a second - a moment - it hadn’t been Lisa, at all.

He flipped onto his back - tugging the condom and knotting it before he chucked it ito what he hoped was the trash can by his bed.

He felt hands on his knees - scaling up his thighs and then a hot, slick mouth. He raised himself onto his elbows - glancing down to see Lora ready to go - ass up and her eyes pinning him with a flutter of her lashes.

“No,” he said - smoothly pushing her off him. “I’m done for the night - gonna crash.”

She sat back on her heels - her puffy lips screwing into a pout. “You usually want to go more than once.”

He didn’t think she meant it as an insult, but his patience had thinned to nothing. “I went twice unless you can’t count.” He gestured to his desk in the corner. “There’s money on the table.”

He stood up - scraping a hand across his beard. He smelled like fucking pussy. “I’m gonna shower,” he said as he padded to the bathroom. “Alone,” he added when Lisa clambered off the bed and after him.

“You girls know the way out,” he continued - naked and steaming with sweat and grime and - why did he feel weird? He usually did go until dawn - go until he’d exhausted himself - until he’d cleared his head from the week’s violence. Don’t overthink it. Don’t stew. It was a mistake to reflect on that shit.

He shot them a smug grin over his shoulder. “Thanks for the ride, ladies.”

He closed the bathroom door harder than he intended.

***

Benny sobered up somewhere between him getting head on the couch to him eating Marissa out on the kitchen table. He didn’t black out - maybe something closer to brown or grey. He remembered the club. He remembered Frankie punching him hard on the arm and chastising him about getting little Miss Faire drunk.

“What the hell, Benjamin? She was so fucked up she threw up for half an hour.”

“I-I don’t really recall, Fishy Fish,” he slurred. “I thought we had like two drinks.”

“You’re holding up three fingers, you fucking idiot.”

Frankie had tried to keep arguing, but the music had been too loud - the base so aggressive it shook the floor. He’d given up at that point and stormed off to find Pope, leaving Benny to do what Benny always did when he was out. He drank to oblivion and found some chick to make out with until Marissa had discovered him. She grabbed him, dragging him to one of their waiting SUVs and well - the night went from there.

Benny had technically been lying. He faintly knew that he’d gone shot for shot with their captive. He remembered that, at least. He recalled her face and soft, pouty mouth and how she’d leaned forward and...wait...had they kissed?

Benny paused - pulling away from Marissa’s spread cunt. She lifted herself up on her elbows - her expression dazed and half-lidded. “Fuck, baby. Why’d you stop?”

“Nothing,” he muttered as he wracked his brain. Shit. They’d - they’d definitely kissed. She was drunk, though. He was drunk. It was just a drunken make out.

“You want to fuck?” she asked - flipping herself over to show her plump, red-marked ass.

“Yeah,” he said - distantly. He went through the motions of it: he slipped the condom on, seizing hold of her hips before driving inside her in one smooth thrust. She gasped - fingernails scrambling at the table as she shoved back against him. She felt good - hot and wet and tight. She always felt good though. It was like a familiar glove - a comfort.

“Fuck me hard,” she ordered.

“Uhuh,,” he replied. “Mm yeah - okay, babe.”

His head was elsewhere. It was upstairs if he was being honest. He shouldn’t be fucking a girl here. What if she came down? What if she walked in on this? It’s not like he owed her. It’s not like he even had any intention of fucking her since he knew Pope would pop a blood vessel. Okay - he also didn’t necessarily want to take advantage of her. He was a jerk - an asshole to a degree, but he liked her. She was disarmingly funny. They’d be watching a movie and she’d drop some one-liner that made him choke on his drink. Her humor was just dark enough - dry enough and even though she held herself at a distance from him, he still felt her. He still got glimpses of who she’d be if she wasn’t in the situation she was in - if she was just his friend and they were spending an afternoon together.

A friend? Really? You jacked-off to her the other night in the shower.

Good point. He should get out all this stress - sweat out these inappropriate feelings and maybe he’d stop lusting after her

The voice at the base of his head muttered: fat fucking chance.

He fisted a hand into Marissa’s hair and lifted her up against his chest. He traced his tongue over her ear - pressing nimble fingers between her legs and swirling until she shivered and clenched. “Wanna take this to the sauna?” he husked.

“As long as you don’t pass out again,” she quipped - clutching vice-like around him.

“That was one time,” he whined as he guided her out of the kitchen.

***

When the clock struck seven, she made a dash for it. It seemed safe enough. She’d heard Frankie and Pope in the hallway around five-thirty. They had been chatting in Spanish - chuckling and ribbing each other quietly before their respective doors closed.

Did they screw a chick together?

Possibly.

Does it matter?

No.

Yes.

(No.)

She hadn’t slept a wink aside from the few hours she’d gotten while they’d been out. She was too revved up. Her thoughts were heavy and colliding into each other. The synapses of her brain forming tangled highways that knotted and stretched and refused to dissolve. She felt slightly ill - that nauseous belly-ache and dizzy spell you get when you’re on too little sleep.

She’d grab some toast downstairs and - maybe - a drink just to soften her crazed thoughts and then she’d pass out. She was hungry. She had thrown up what food she’d eaten yesterday and her stomach was screaming at her - yawning for some real sustenance.

She slipped on the silk robe she’d found in the pile of clothes they’d given her. It was pale pink and stopped mid-thigh and she wasn’t wearing it because it was cuter than her oversized t-shirt. She wasn’t.

***

The kitchen was blessedly empty. She toasted some frozen waffles and made herself a very mild mimosa with the Veuve she’d found half-drunk in the living room. It was flat, but it would do.

She glanced at the kitchen table - narrowing her eyes at the shifted bowl of fruit - the apple that had rolled onto the tile floor. Best to be careful. She found some Clorox and doused the surface as her waffles toasted.

It was perfectly quiet. The hum of the fridge. The creak of the floors. Everything echoing and centering to reach a peaceful tang of stillness.

It was a nice morning. The sun peeked behind the skyscrapers, forming bars across the horizon. It’d be a hot day - not that she would get to experience it.

When her waffles were done - she scraped some Irish butter over each and then soaked them with maple syrup. The nice kind in a glass bottle. Vermont, baby.

“Fancy as fuck,” she sung to herself as she sat down at the table with the Veuve and the Eggo waffles that were definitely Benny’s.

***

She was nearly done when a stark naked figure strutted into the kitchen.

Benny.

He couldn’t see her over the counter. She had been so low in her seat - slumping as she drank the champs and plopped chunks of sodden waffle into her mouth. She had been too exhausted to give a shit.

But- upon witnessing Benny meander into the kitchen - bare and tall and oh my fuck - she sat up. Humming to himself - he yanked the fridge open, snatched the carton of milk and chugged it straight.

Freak.

His flesh was dewy and golden. The pink-fruit swell of dawn slanted over his body. The lean muscle - the wide shoulders and flat stomach. The hint of his large cock that she could only see the shadow of. He wasn’t as broad as Will - but fuck - he was something.

Her eyes drank him in - swept up the lines and curves of his muscles. She stared - too hungover and too tired to really care about how blatant she was being. He turned just enough to reveal the expanse of his back and she paused.

She could spot them - even under the tattoos that were beautifully strewn across his skin.

Scars.

They littered the surface of him. Raised pale tissue roping across the expanse of his shoulders - down the curve of his spine. A thousand fucking cuts - it had to be. Too many to count.

She was moving toward him before she could stop herself. Maybe - it was the champagne or the lack of sleep or the fact that she had kissed him yesterday and he’d no doubt fucked someone else right after. She didn’t know, but what she did know was that she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and caressing the ruined skin of his back.

His reaction was immediate and furious. He lurched away from her - spinning around as his hands flew to her throat. He held firm - thumb digging into her artery. His gaze was distant and his teeth were bared. He had her flush to him so she could feel every inch of him - the hot surface of his body pressed to hers.. Her tits crushed to his stomach - the limp bulge of his dick swinging into her. His nostrils flared and he didn’t look like the Benny she knew. He looked like the Benny who had stormed into the penthouse a week ago with his sleeves sodden in blood. The Benny who had forgotten her for a moment.

She wrapped her fingers around his forearm and squeezed. “Benny,” she squeaked as he dug harder - tightened his grip.

A second. Two. Three. Four.

He blinked - shaking his head before his pond-blue eyes widened in surprise. He said her name and quickly released her, stepping backward.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “Sorry - fuck - I didn’t - I didn’t know - I thought you were asleep.”

“It’s fine,” she replied - rubbing at the tender skin beneath her jaw. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

She had touched his scars. She had touched something that was vulnerable - that was painful for him. She knew that instinctively. She knew that was why he had reacted so violently.

He paused for a moment - reorienting himself. He glanced down before he caught her eyes again, his lips pulling up into a tight smile. “Uh - well I guess you finally got me naked.”

“I mean you got yourself naked - I’m just a bystander.”

Up close - it was apparent that he was still damp with sweat. There were pink-red streaks across his back - his chest. He was covered in scratch marks. Dark hickies circled his throat.

Weren’t hickies considered tacky by college?

He followed her line of vision and had the decency to look sheepish.

“Are - are you just going to bed?” she asked - stunned.

“If I said I was napping in the sauna would you believe me?”

She crossed her arms. “No.”

“Are you mad?”

It wasn’t the question that surprised her, but the way he asked it. There was no inflection of a tease in his voice. It was genuine and curious and concerned- like a little boy who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

She stepped away from him - suddenly far too close. “No, Ben,” she said. “I’m not.”

She dropped her gaze down to her bare feet for a moment. She took in the silk robe fluttering around her thighs - the spill of sunlight between them. This was all so surreal. She returned his gaze and he held it evenly - expectedly. Before she could stop herself she added, “Why would I be?”

“Because we kissed.”

She scrunched her nose up. “Did we?”

Yes. Yes and it had felt so fucking good.

He leaned back against the counter. Zero shame as he crossed his ankles and rubbed his chin in thought. “I seem to remember your tongue in my mouth.”

And then you had a bunch of sex with a bunch of hot chicks right after.

Well - two could play at that game.

She walked to the table - swiping the bottle of Veuve before twirling back to look at him. Her robe swished. “Funny,” she remarked with exaggerated confusion. “Only thing I remember from last night is Frankie helping me into the shower.” Benny’s mouth dropped open - his eyebrows hitting the top of his hairline. She brushed past him - squeezing his shoulder - pointedly ignoring the way the muscle flexed under her hand and his cock may or may not have twitched. “I’m gonna go back to bed, but sleep well.”

She rushed out of the kitchen before he could find a response.

***

She was alone. She was alone quite a lot. The men had gone out to one of their casinos or clubs or gambling houses. They had “business” and she was preparing herself for another sleepless night. She was sure they’d bring girls home again. She was sure they’d return all buzzed and loose and she’d hide away in her room to avoid their weekly orgy.

It had been seven whole days. She hadn’t brought up the women after her incident with Benny in the kitchen. It would remain unsaid. It wasn’t her business. She could barely look at Will after what he’d told her in the hall and then hearing him fuck. She just...couldn’t.

She’d busied herself cooking. She’d plastered a smile across her face and played housewife, while also keeping her distance. She’d make them lunch or dinner and then spend the rest of her time in her room.

“You wanna go for a swim?” Benny asked. “The pool’s really nice.”

“No thank you.”

“C’mon - let’s do it.”

“No.”

She had to admit, he was trying. She wasn’t mad at him. Of course not. He wasn’t hers and she found it utterly insane that she would actually think that since he was her captor and she was still their -

Captive? She wrestled with it - rolled it around on her tongue.

She was like their jailed honey without any of the sex or ability to run errands. She wanted to go to the grocery store - the fucking farmer’s market. She wanted to do something as mundane as buying cleaning supplies.

Yes - a Stepford housewife with four really fucking hot psycho-husbands. She’d seen them before they left and nearly swallowed her own tongue. They were all dressed to the nines. Three piece suits and deep blue fabric. Hermes ties. Bright white button-up shirts. Polished leather shoes.

Frankie and Pope had their curls slicked back. Benny with the thick mass of his hair in that bouffant style with a strand in his eyes like he was a greaser - an old school heartthrob that some type of Sandra Dee would pin above her bed.

Then - Will. She so rarely saw Will dressed up that seeing him tonight made something between her legs pulse. The dove-grey of his blazer reflected the shadowed cobalt of his eyes. His wheat-locks swept behind his ears and when he’d caught her gaze, he’d grinned. Those big scintillating white teeth that made it impossible not to look away. Ironhead in all of his glamour - his image sharpened and honed to something deliriously untouchable and dangerous.

“Be good,” he teased and she’d sent it right back.

“Have fun, dear.”

Indulgently, she wondered what it would be like to be married to one of them. Benny would probably have a wandering eye. Pope would be a workaholic. Frankie - well Frankie wasn’t too bad except for him being a total fucking enigma she had yet to crack. Will - Will was a nice guy aside from the torture and the murder.

But they’d all murdered people - they’d said as much. Will was just the best at it. He followed orders.

Look at you now - making excuses for slaughter.

Well - sometimes you had to find the silver lining.

The boys were a force as it was. They were joined at the hip - obviously bonded by something that went deeper than friendship. If you married one, you married them all.

It’s not like they were roommates. They were their own army - their own family that she had somehow been yanked into. A family. She barely knew what that word meant. She’d been a caregiver. Period. Her mother wasn’t a mother by any definition and her father had obviously been in the mob in some sort of capacity. Not like it mattered since he had been very much dead.

He still fucked you over somehow. His name got you into this mess.

In the dark - in the still warmth of the living room - she could admit to herself that she was weirdly thankful. It was twisted. It was totally fucked. But she had nowhere to go and no one to look out for her. She’d nearly strangled herself on her own loneliness - rotting away in that big old house with her mother. If they were protecting her, which she had truly begun to accept then maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

Fuck. That was maudlin - that was really pathetic.

***

Frankie didn’t want to be there, but business was business.

The Mayfair Club.

Their most exclusive Casino. At ten pm, it was already ripe with heavy drinking, betting, dancing, and illegal transactions. It was stunning though. Frankie would give it that. He liked the ambiance more than their other clubs. It was still very much an echo of the 1960’s when it had been built. The interior was lush with the spirit of midcentury design.

The front entrance was paved in gold tiles that lead to a bonded-metal door. The walls boasted vintage oil paintings. Lacquer. Jade. Bronze dual-sided fireplaces. Enormous hand-blown amber-glass chandeliers. Ebony 1920’s chinoiserie screens engraved with scenes from myth. The place was a blend of orange and gold, stones, metallics, shags and lush velvets. Graphic patterns. Animal prints. Slim Aarons.

It all came together seamlessly - eating up the black felt tables and the stark spray of playing cards.

“Who are we meeting tonight again?” Benny grumbled beside him.

“No idea,” Frankie replied.

He groaned. “Why’d I have to come then?”

Frankie shot him an exasperated look. They always hit up one of their places on the weekend. They kept tabs and showed face. They were a united front. They’d been a united front since they were children. There was loyalty and then there was their type of loyalty. They couldn’t be cut into or opened up though many had tried. In short, Santi just liked to see what was going on: which rival gangs were sharing drinks, which were out for blood, and which were trying to undermine him.

“When have you not come?” Frankie asked as one of the hostesses - Rebecca - brought them to their table at the center of the room. “Scared to leave her alone?”

Benny screwed his face up. “No,” he grunted. “I’m just tired.”

Liar. Benny hadn’t shut up about her since last weekend. It was strange - especially for someone like Ben whose attention was fickle and unreliable. One of his “exes” had even told Frankie as much as she ran out of his room in a flood of tears.

When he focuses on you, it’s everything. It’s like the entirety of the sun on your face and you can’t get out - can’t escape it and it feels so fucking good and then - and then - he just stops - stops and moves along like nothing ever happened - like you were never even there.

Of course, that was before they had started vetting the girls they brought home - when they were young and dumb and -

“I’m surprised you don’t want to go hang out with her,” Benny remarked. “Seeing as you got her naked in the shower.”

Oh - yeah - Benny liked her. Frankie couldn’t remember the last time he’d been jealous of anyone. He was never territorial over women - not even Marissa.

“I told you that I didn’t see shit,” Frankie growled. “I just turned it on for her. She was fucking with you.”

Benny rolled his eyes as he dropped into the booth beside Will.

“Why are you all pissy?” Will asked - tugging at the button of his white dress shirt.

“Benjamin misses his girlfriend,” Frankie announced.

Santi cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward. “Wait - really?”

Benny flipped him off before crossing his arms. “I don’t fucking miss anyone and she’s not my girlfriend.”

“You’ve been calling her your girlfriend the last three weeks,” Will reminded.

Benny gaped at him before he threw up his arms in frustration. “That. Was. A. Joke.”

“Get your head in the game,” Sant pointed a finger at him - his eyes narrowing. “You’re never useful when you’re constantly thinking with your dick.”

“I’m actually always thinking with my dick and I’ve been extremely successful so your argument doesn’t stand,” Benny groused as he dropped his chin into his hands. He looked alarmingly like he did at twelve - when he was the most desperate to please - willing to do every dangerous thing that would help their cause even if it meant he’d get hurt.

“If you like her so much maybe you shouldn’t have fucked Marissa after you guys made out,” Frankie observed.

“Oh fuck off, Fish,” Benny barked. “You screwed someone, too. I could hear that chick Sarah squealing from the game room.”

“Wait,” Pope looked at Benny, confused. “You two made out?”

“Um,” Benny busied himself with his napkin. “Maybe?”

Santi’s eyes went to slits.

Benny quickly gestured to Frankie. “He got her in the shower.”

“Because you got her drunk and took advantage of her,” Frankie accused. Ben made a face - exaggeratedly mouthing the words back to him.

“Mature,” he retorted and Ben laughed.

Will’s hooded gaze darted between them. There was a slight twitch at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t look all smug, William,” Benny said as he set his eyes on his brother. “You creep around her all the time.”

“Do I?” His tone was flat - unimpressed.

Benny sat up in his seat before lowering the register of his voice to mimic Will. “Oh wow - these quesadillas are the best I’ve ever had. You’re so talented and beautiful and I want to rail you over the counter.”

Will’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Santi gawked at them - brows knitting together. “I’m sorry, but when the fuck did you three become obsessed with our captive?”

“I’m not obsessed,” Frankie defended. He wasn’t. He just felt bad for her. He just recognized something in her that had clung to him - infected him. Poisoned his own gut and chest and head. The self-destruction. The substance abuse. He knew that like an old lover.

“She’s pretty,” Ben deflected - the word slicing through their conversation. The fact of it. She was beautiful and didn’t all of them have a weakness for beautiful things?

“What’s that got to do with anything?” One of the waitresses appeared. “Just bring us our usual,” Santi requested before motioning for her to leave. He turned back to them. “We have pretty women in the house all the time.”

Benny pursed his lips. “I don’t know. There’s something about her. She’s a nice girl.”

“She’s innocent,” Frankie added - not exactly knowing why. He barely knew this girl and here he was protecting her in some roundabout way. “She shouldn’t be stuck in this.”

“She’s not innocent.”

“Innocent of this,” Frankie clarified - gesturing to their surroundings - the wide-open space of their casino. The enormous amber chandeliers glittering and sparking like licks of flame in the sea of shadows. The laughter. The shuffle of cards and the clink of ice and the numerous dangerous men and women huddled together in conversation. The amount of corpses that would be left in the wake of all these double-dealings. Transactions. It’s just business.

“Her blood would say differently,” Santi scraped a hand across his stubble. “Her father fucked her over even if she doesn’t know that.”

“So fucking what?” Benny flung back. “I’m not - I’m not saying we let her go, but I do think we owe her an explanation.” His gaze jumped over Frankie’s shoulder and he did another rapid scan of the room. He was avoiding someone - Marissa, probably.

“It’s just because you want to fuck her, Ben,” Santi accused. “You’re trying to butter her up because you fucked someone else and now you feel bad.”

“No,” he argued. “No - that’s not it.”

Will shot him a doubtful glance, but remained silent. Santi motioned to him. “Back me up here, man.”

Will sighed. “We let her go, she dies.”

Benny’s brows furrowed. “What the fuck, Will? I already said we wouldn’t let her go. She just wants answers.”

Frankie crossed his arms over his chest - tilting his head as he leaned back into his seat. She did deserve to know why they kept her there. She deserved to know who her father was and why he had marked her - whether he meant to or not. “I’m with Ben,” he finally declared.

“Big surprise there,” Santi huffed.

***

She hated being alone with her own thoughts. She couldn’t stand in her own skin. It itched.

That furious, frantic voice in her head was demanding that she fill it with drink - with the buzz of liquor. Fill up the silence. FIll up the boredom. Do it. Do it.

Just cork it. Numb it. Drown it out with your old pal - with just a sip - a glass - a shot. Shove your dignity down that bar top one more time.

She leaned her forehead against the window. A storm was starting - forming rough and fast. The clouds were swollen purple to black to pale as lightning streaked their soft-masses. Rain began to pelt the glass - turning the air to a swirling fog of grey and mist.

At least, it would drown out any screams of pleasure from the boys' harem.

She could head to her room early. She didn’t want to drink tonight. Her hangovers as of late were leaving her almost comatose - sour with sick and her hands had started to tremble in the mornings. She really didn’t want to and still her insides crawled toward it - begged and pleaded. One. One. One. One teeny tiny sip.

No.

If she had one, she wouldn’t be able to stop. She had no clue where it would end and it was getting very fucking tiresome.

She moved toward the stairs - each step taking her farther away from that pretty bar - those jeweled bottles. She felt a pang of relief as she made it up to the second floor.

Good job. Just go to your room and settle in and watch something stupid.

She got all the way to her door before something crashed. It came from the floor below her.

What the fuck?

***

“She really has no idea?” Benny pressed. He was on his second old-fashioned and his tongue was going numb. The orange rind was bitter in his mouth. He couldn’t get a buzz on - his head felt bloated and all over the place. Distracted.

“She has no idea,” Santi confirmed. “I’m positive.”

“Her mother never said anything?” Will fiddled with the toothpick in his glass - palm scraping across the table before lifting one of the steak knives.

“No,” Santi replied slowly. “From what I gathered - her mother was an addict and totally out to lunch by the time she was old enough to wonder.”

All eyes swung to Frankie at the mention of “addict”. It was a reflex. They were all still used to the years they’d spent tip-toeing around Fish’s issues. Frankie offered them a strained smile leaving Benny with a cramp of guilt in his gut.

“And her mother’s dead?” Will twirled the knife between his knuckles - aimlessly - mindlessly. “She’s got no one?”

Santi nodded, but there was a near imperceptible twitch at the corner of his eye. Frankie caught it.

He surged forward - planting his elbows on the table. “Okay, pendejo,” he said. “What is it?”

Santi’s brows shot up. “What’s what?”

“You got all shifty when you mentioned her mother.”

He winced. Benny sat up higher in his seat - intrigued.

Santi tried to run a hand through his hair, seemingly forgetting that he had gelled it down to his scalp. His tattoos burned black across his knuckles - flexing and trembling in the wane light. He let out a whoosh of air before speaking. “Just so we’re clear, I didn’t know this when we took her and honestly it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“Know what?” Will pushed. He had both of his arms draped across the back of the booth. He looked at ease aside from the way his eyes were totally focused on Santi - glittering in the red-hued room. His expression was always set in a permanent snarl when he wasn’t in the safety of their penthouse. He had a reputation, after all.

Santi ducked his gaze to study the contents of his drink. The ice clicked. “We - she - fuck okay the day that we took her was the day of her mother’s funeral,” he confessed. “I guess - I guess her mother died that week or something.”

Benny jerked in his seat. “Or something!?” he repeated - incredulous.

“Wait - I’m sorry,” Frankie massaged his forehead - shutting his eyes as he searched for the words. “You’re saying - “

“That she was drinking her grief away and we fucking kidnapped her,” Benny finished.

Santi grit his teeth. “I didn’t know and it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway.” He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper that scraped the tablecloth. “Baron would have had her killed regardless.”

“Speaking of,” Frankie muttered before subtly gesturing across the room. Baron had entered - his usual Apostle members at his heels. He was milk-pale and the rose-red lights glinted and bounced off his glasses. He’d always given Benny the creeps. He’d heard that he was fucking weird from the girls. His temper was legendary, but then again so was Santi’s.

Fact was he was unstable and unpredictable. A rattlesnake without a tail. If he found out about Faire...

Baron’s dark gaze flicked to them before he turned back to the hostess.

“I thought he spent his weekends at the Chapel?” Frankie implored under his breath.

“He does...usually,” Santi frowned. “Just ignore him for now. I don’t have the energy to be cordial.”

Their eyes settled back on the table, an awkward silence permeating the space. The tension was nebulous - oozing between them. It was true - the information about her mother didn’t necessarily change what they had done. Her life had been on the line. But - still -

It was Will who finally broke the silence. “When did you find out?”

Santi glanced at him. “About what?”

“About her mother,” he confirmed tiredly.

“A week ago.”

Will nodded, his expression was unreadable. He sat back and ran his thumb over his lower lip. Benny could only guess how he felt. He’d followed Santi’s orders and tortured someone in front of her. This small truth made all of their actions that much more...fucked up. She was just some grief-stricken girl who had stumbled into a situation that she didn’t understand.

She’d certainly shown resilience though. She’d adapted to a degree. Benny thought of her smiling - of her showing him how to chiffonade some basil.

“No-no roll it like this. Shouldn’t you be good with knives, mob boy?”

He was making excuses again.

“Look - she doesn’t have anyone,” Santi stated. “She doesn’t know what her name means here. If Baron finds out about who she is, she’s screwed. We need to go about this delicately. We need to put safeguards in place because she has no protection whatsoever if we just let her go.”

“Fine,” Frankie relented. “Fine, but we tell her what we know.”

Will tilted his head in agreement. Benny tipped his drink, saluting him.

Ben would feel better if she knew everything. Lay out all the cards. Play a hand of honesty. They hadn’t necessarily lied to her, but they had omitted the details that would have mattered.

Benny realized that Santi hadn’t said anything and he glanced at him - ready to fight him on their decision should he disagree. But the words died on his tongue.

Santi’s face paled as he stared at his phone. His eyes rounded and almost comically huge.

Will went rigid beside him. “What is it?”

“We have to go. Now.”

***

She was going to hide. That was her plan and a fucking good one. She was not capable of fighting. Her only options were to run or find a weapon or go sit in the shower and cry.

She was rooted in place - the hallway seemingly endless - stretching out and out and someone could come down it - turn the corner and see her. Her mouth was dry and her throat closed up. She licked her lips. Cool sweat beaded at her hairline. Her hands were shaking. She knew it wasn’t them. She would have recognized their voices. If it was their security, they would have told her.

Someone was breaking into their house. Someone bad and they had reminded her countless times that she was in danger - that she’d be killed because she was simply still breathing.

Hide. Hide. Hide.

She could hide in her bedroom, but then she’d be fucked if they came up here. She’d have no exit.

There was the buzz of whispering downstairs. The shuffle and pound of booted feet. Definitely more than one - more than two. She could take the back staircase - make it to the media room and hide somewhere in there. No one would look there. No important files or weapons or - shit fuck shit fuck shit -

She quickly realized that she was absolute trash in a crisis. Her adrenaline was still simmering at a low point - not enough to ease the panic that was now steadily building and burning and ready to explode and -

“Check upstairs.” A gruff voice ordered. She sprinted down the hall - ran for that blessed back staircase that led into the laundry room. Her feet were bare, but it felt as if every step reverberated through the whole penthouse.

As she crept down the steps, she could hear an argument - could hear the shuffling of papers - the clang of drawers. There was another crash. The unmistakable tinkle of broken glass. What was this? This had to be about the guys- definitely not about her. Right?

She made her way into the laundry room and slid into one of the closets that held the mops, brooms, and vacuums. This is a dumb ass hiding spot, but at least I have a weapon.

You gonna gouge out someone’s eye with that broom handle?

Maybe.

She crouched - pressing her ear to the door. It was dark in here. It strangled her. Suffocated her. Her skin buzzed to a brand new frequency - high and trembling. Just stay hidden. Just stay still and silent until they leave.

There were more men in the hall now.

The pitch of their argument escalated. They sounded anxious. There was the rush of boots on hardwood and then the front door slammed. Had they left? Were the guys back?

She waited. She’d wait until dawn. She wouldn’t even care if they brought home a dozen women. She’d wait and wait and when they’d come home, she’d go to them and -

The closet door swung open.

“Hello honey,” the intruder said.

***

Will didn’t remember getting to the car. He’d practically blacked out.

He lunged forward - gripping the front seat.

“Drive faster, Damon,” he hissed. The lights of the city blurred and fuzzed - circled and popped beneath the furious onslaught of the rain. There was the tangy grip of ozone in the air. The black street shimmered with the oil from months of traffic.

Will shut his eyes - curling his fingers into a fist until his nails bit into the meat of his palm. Calm down. Get your head on straight.

Santi was on his phone - shouting in a flurry of Spanish and English and all of it laced with threat.

“Fucking shit,” he roared - slamming his fist into the glove box. “No one is fucking answering at the security station.”

This was inconceivable. This had never happened. No one had ever managed to break into their penthouse. That was theirs - their safe space. Something had obviously failed and failed spectacularly.

“She’ll be fine,” Benny growled more to himself than anyone else. Frankie was silent - focused on the road - his lips strained to a thin line.

It wouldn’t do for Will to become frantic - to become upset and thus reckless. He wasn’t going to fixate on the fact that he had traumatized an already grief-stricken girl. It didn’t matter because it had already been done. He couldn’t take it back.

Still - he wouldn’t stand for some fucking pieces of shit hurting her. They had promised to protect her and they would - he would.

He sat back in his seat - allowing the darker shards of himself to come together. He felt comfortably numb. He felt nothing, but that familiar burnished fury.

***

At least - she tried. She hadn’t even thought about the consequences - she’d just rushed at him - knocking him backward with the brunt of her shoulder. He’d stumbled out of surprise more than anything else. She made it about as far as the kitchen before he’d caught up to her - wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her right off her feet.

“Found her,” the man shouted. He was huge - thick with muscle. Shaved head. Sharp jaw. Tattoos slithering up his throat. His arm cut into her stomach and his breath was hot against her ear. “You’re a slippery little thing.”

Another man jogged into the room. Not as big as the one who had her, but lanky with bottle-green eyes. It was dark - so dark in the kitchen aside from the lights of the city streaming ghostly and soft across the three of them.

“The others leave?”

“They’re downstairs. We have to go now.”

“They get that other shit he wanted?”

“Obviously, Slick.”

She had to do something. She - fuck - she didn’t know shit. She didn’t know how to throw a punch or - or -wait - she surveyed her surroundings. The kitchen. She knew this location, at least. She spent hours right in here and there were plenty of potential weapons. Lots of pointy things.

She tried to control her breathing - tried to settle her heart that was fluttering in the cage of ribs.

Slick’s arm tightened around her. The tips of her toes barely brushed the floor. She swallowed and dropped her head forward, ignoring the sudden wave of dizziness. She hung there for a moment and the other man spoke up: “Is she unconscious or something?”

“Huh?”

She braced herself and then slammed her head backward. She heard the crack as her skull crashed into Slick’s nasal bridge. He roared - dropping her to the floor. She lurched to her feet, agony screaming at the crown of her head. White-blue stars burst across her vision. Adrenaline-rich sweat leached from her pores. Get up. Get up. She rushed toward the knife rack - wrapping her fingers around the closest handle. She ripped it free, whirling around and pointing it at them.

Slick gaped at her - blood rushing scarlet and fast down his mouth and onto the floor.

‘Your boys teach you that?” he chuckled - red - so much fucking red all over his face.

The other one smiled - teeth glistening in the dark. There were black dots flashing at the corner of her eyes. She’d really rocked her head. Didn’t matter. It didn’t.

Just protect yourself until they get there.

“That knife won’t do much, sweetheart,” the man leered. “But - points for effort.”

“Just leave,” she demanded. “Just - just go - you got whatever you wanted.”

“We got half of what we wanted,” the man corrected. “You’re also on the To-Do list. Now - just be a good girl and come to Jack.”

She stood there dumbly - the knife handle slimy in her hand from her own sweat. He sighed before flashing the silver hump of his gun strapped to his belt.

Well - shit.

“I don’t want to have to use this,” he said candidly. “But - we’re in a bit of a time crunch.”

She was out of options. She knew they had guns, but she also was beginning to realize that they needed her alive. If they wanted her dead, they would have shot her point blank the second they found her.

She just had to give herself more time.

What had she learned in her school’s self-defense classes? Use a weapon that can’t be turned on you. Use what’s available? Fuck - she’d rarely paid attention because she was too busy mooning over Scott Wentworth.

Her eyes landed on the heavy glass bowl full of fruit on the butcher block. Okay. She moved without thinking - leaping for the glass bowl and then hurling it at them. Slick jumped out of the way, but it hit Jack across the chest hard enough to wind him. It shattered into pieces, sprinkling over the expanse of the floor in a rain of glass. They bit into her feet - her ankles. The stinging pricks were like insects - like needles.

“You’re fucked,” Jack snarled before he charged at her. He barreled into her body - forcing them both onto the floor. The air whooshed from her lungs - her throat closing up as the knife went flying. Still - she fought all the way down - shoving and kicking as he caught her wrists and pinned them to the tile. She could barely see straight due to the throbbing in her head, but Jack’s face was close enough to make out. He hovered over her, his breath wet and fetid as it slipped over her cheek.

“They tried to hide you from him,” he taunted. “Not very well it seems since they left you all alone.”

“Fuck off,” she spat - trying to knee him in the groin. It was no use - he was too heavy and she was weak from lack of food. Fragile and helpless. There were tears forming - clouding her vision further. It was unfair - she didn’t deserve this. She didn’t know anything.

“Now just fucking behave and I’ll-”

He was off her. She could breathe again. She blinked as she watched a force yank Jack up like he weighed nothing, but feathers.

Will. His face appeared - pale in the gloomy kitchen - his nostrils flaring - his jaw tight as a drum. He grabbed the man by the throat and there were no words - just grunts - just something guttural rasping from his chest. He forced him to the floor - smoothly straddling his waist.

She felt glass under her nails - embedded in her palms. Her lungs snapped and expanded beneath her breastbone - her throat aching as she tried to speak. She took in the scene in front of her. Her head kept on swimming.

Over Will’s shoulder, Pope had his hand against Slick’s throat. There was a glint of silver between his fingers before he whipped it away. A knife and then a spurt of blood. The huge man went down - skull cracking on the counter as the floor shook with his dead weight. She inhaled sharply.

Her eyes widened. There was a ringing in her ears.

Jack was gurgling, pawing helplessly at Will’s shoulders - the bulge of his arms.

She hadn’t watched him kill up close. She’d heard the sounds - the awful death rattle - the transition from a scream to a muffled groan.

This, however, was right in front of her.

She felt arms around her. Benny’s jaw scraped across her temple. He tried to turn her around. “C’mon, babe. You don’t need to see -“

But she did. She wanted to. They’d - they’d tried to hurt her.

She found herself focusing on the tiny details of Jack as Will strangled him: the shag of curls- the bushy eyebrows - the hair-covered hands uselessly hitting out at Ironhead like it would make a difference.

She watched and Will caught her gaze - his brow furrowing for a moment before he relaxed - reading her - understanding her. Those unsettling eyes bored into her own. He held her line of vision - he held her in a way.

It’s okay. He seemed to silently tell her. It’s okay. I’ve got this.

The man’s head went slack. One eye wide open and the other half-mast.

Her fear began to dissolve. The adrenaline receded like the tide, making room for something brighter. She could taste and breathe. Her vision cleared and everything softened. It was a relief.

They’d come for her. They’d saved her.

***

She dropped her face in her hands and laughed. It was dry and slightly erratic. It clung to her throat. She wondered if she had gone momentarily insane? She was just...she didn’t know what she was. Fuck.

There was the sudden shattering collision of thunder and she jumped. The windows trembled. Would they break? Would they bend inward and make the floors crack and pop and fall?

The tile was cold under her ass. Her skin was stinging fiercely.

“Shh,” Benny hushed her. He was still behind her - on his knees - hand stroking her hair. “It’s just the storm.”

“How the fuck did they get in here?” Frankie rumbled as he stalked into the kitchen. She jerked again at the loudness of his voice - at his anger.

Benny mumbled something to Fish over his shoulder and he quickly went over to her. He stuffed his gun back into his jacket before crouching to meet her eyes. He touched her cheek gently - his thumb smoothing over her jaw. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean - are you okay?”

Was she okay? Not fucking really.

She could feel their eyes on her. Her flesh was really starting to burn from the glass .

“They - they just broke in,” she explained - breath hitching between her ribs.

It was Pope who strode toward her next. He appraised her - taking note of her bare thighs in her sleep shorts - her cut hands and arms. He seemed regretful - his forehead creased in concern. He made a deep sound of frustration. But as soon as he noticed her watching him, the concern flitted away - quick as a snuffed match. His face returned to that shadowy emptiness - that stone-cold house where not a light burned bright.

Benny gently took her cheeks in his hands and forced her to look at him. The dimples in his cheek were more pronounced than ever. His eyes watery and kind - more warm than she’d ever seen them.

“Did they hurt you?”

“No.”

“You are,” Will observed as he gracefully stood up from the corpse between his legs. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned - the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. There was a light mist of blood across the collar - the fine bleached fabric folded and neat.

Their cologne filtered heavily through the room. The tang and oil of them. That masculine aroma that followed them. The bright ache of cedar and smoke and whiskey. The brand of the casino had trailed them back here.

Will settled in front of her - he wrapped his calloused fingers around her wrist before he tugged her up to her feet. She stumbled into his chest, but he steadied her. He was still a little too hard with her, a little too rough. But when he dragged his touch over her bleeding palms - he inhaled sharply - his lower lip yanked white between his teeth. “You are hurt,” he repeated. “Don’t lie. Not to us.”

She ripped her hand away from him, gasping as she accidentally jarred it against her belly - burying the glass deeper. “I didn’t lie - I didn’t realize - “

She had though. She’d felt that glass down to her bones.

“She’s in shock,” Benny said quietly. He stepped toward her and she flinched away. Her cheeks still bloomed warm from his touch. They were all too much at once - overwhelming her.

“I’m not in shock,” she protested as she curled into herself against the kitchen island. Frankie frowned and she wanted to smack him.

“How did this happen?” Pope asked - his voice low and dangerous.

“I don’t know,” She leaned deeper into the butcher block - the edge cutting into her stomach. Benny wordlessly slipped beside her and pulled her close - allowing her to rest her body weight against him. She sighed, wanting to go upstairs. She needed to be away from those dead men - those slack, gaping faces. That breath - that warm fetid breath on her cheek. “ I don’t - I just kind of ran away when they came in.”

Pope raised his head - his umber eyes pinning her in place. She felt like a bug - like a delicate insect with gossamer guts - stretched across paper and pushed under glass. He was so fucking mean to her. It was really kind of comical at this point.

She was just minding her business - caged in this prison of glass and marble and leather. Acclimating. Doing exactly as he said. She continued. “I’m sorry that -”

“Hush,” Pope cut her off - surprising her.

“What?” Sweat beaded at the nape of her neck - between her tits.

“I wasn’t asking you,” he clarified - scrubbing at his jaw before running his fingers through his slicked black hair. It was starting to become disheveled, making him look young. “I know you didn’t do anything - this is on us. They managed to get through our security. I-I’m glad we got home in time.”

She blinked. Oh.

“How the fuck did they do it?” Frankie asked as he kicked one of the corpse’s heads. It lolled to the side - the blatant smudges of purple around the throat from Will’s fingers. She wanted her bed. She wanted to sleep and shower. She wanted to dunk her head beneath the water of a bath.

“I’ll talk to security,” Benny announced as he subtly maneuvered her to Will. She felt like a doll between them. She went boneless, allowing herself to be pushed in whatever direction they guided her. Benny crossed the room to leave - his expression a little hell-bent. “Make some heads roll.”

She almost wanted him to stay.

“Don’t kill anyone, Ben,” Fish called after him.

Ben turned - the doorway light gilding his profile. “Can’t make any promises.” He winked.

She knew Frankie wasn’t joking. She’d seen what they’d done to the employees that have fucked them - messed up catastrophically. She shifted and a piece of glass nudged deeper into her foot. She gasped - jerking against Will.

All three of their heads whipped around to stare at her. She was reminded of the Cerberus - their eyes molasses-black and swirling with hunger for a hunt. Someone had found a weakness in them and had bled it and now - they felt vulnerable. Pissed.

“Jesus,” Will murmured amusedly. “Can’t take you anywhere.” Before she could protest, he lifted her up into his arms. He dropped his chin to look at her. “You’re bleeding everywhere, Ms. Faire.”

His smile was indulgent - as if he’d like that - as if he’d want her to bleed on him. She scowled. “There she is,” he teased. “Knew you weren’t that scared.”

“I wasn’t scared,” she huffed. “I fought back, didn’t I?”

(She had been dead ass terrified, but she wouldn’t admit that.)

“Yeah,” Will replied thoughtfully. “You did.”

He sounded impressed.

Frankie regarded her silently before he moved across the kitchen and rummaged through a drawer. He returned to her - his hands hot and smooth on her foot.

“Hey,” he said softly - catching her attention.

“Hey?” she replied - bewildered.

His lip twitched - the hint of his handsome smile before he ripped the glass from her foot.

“Fuck!” she shrieked as she curled her fingers into Will’s dress shirt, managing to tear a button. Fish raised the red-slick shard of glass and tossed it into the sink. It clinked - echoing through the dark room where they stood. Shadows. The blink and slide of city lights still swimming over hardwood and tile.

She glared at Frankie. “Asshole.”

He shrugged.

Will chuckled and she could feel it vibrate beneath her cheek. She was stiff in his arms, but she could discern the corded muscle - the relaxed thrum of his heart. He smelled wonderful - like orange flowers and cloves - the swell of a crackling fire. There was also the distinct aroma of blood, which lingered on him like a second skin. He was all the things he was and yet his hold on her was tender - almost protective.

Frankie continued to clean her foot, wrapping it securely. His breath was damp on her skin - his forehead furrowed in concentration. “You may need stitches,” he observed as he bandaged her. “Will can check it more thoroughly upstairs.”

Will waggled his eyebrows suggestively and she laughed despite herself.

“See,” Frankie said. “You’re taking it like a champ.”

Why did that sound brushed in innuendo?

She sighed, leaning into Will’s chest - her head brushing his shoulder. He lowered his chin - lips faintly grazing her temple. “It’s fine,” he soothed. “You can relax.”

“Go upstairs,” Pope ordered. She’d forgotten about him and his voice was gruff - splintering through the tension that nestled between the three of them. He sounded both impatient and annoyed and she wondered if he was mad at her. If he didn’t like them focusing on her - if she fucked up because she got hurt or -

“Please,” Pope added as he settled his gaze on her.

-or not.

Frankie released her ankle and Will rearranged her in his arms. He started for the stairs. “How come I have to leave?” she asked - unsure why she even cared.

“Because they have to clean that up - figure out what happened - how those fuckers got in.”

A chink in the armor. A hole in the wall. Their penthouse had seemed like a fortress - the whole damn place impenetrable. This was on them and she got the feeling that this did not happen. Ever.

“Pope will want to talk to you,” Will continued. “Figure out if they said anything helpful.”

“Can’t I just tell you?”

He cast her a sidelong glance. Surprised.

“Still not crazy about Pope, huh?”

“He’s fucking mean.”

“He has his reasons.”

“I don’t believe you.”

***

Will took her to his room, which she didn’t expect. It was spotless. A gorgeous combination of gun metal grey and white and cedar. A large television. Heavy slate-colored drapes. A warm brown leather heardboard (fuck that headboard). The blankets on the bed were tight with military corners. The pillows were fluffed and organized. There was an enormous landscape painting of aubergine-tinted mountains against the swirl of a storm. Dark colors and violent paint strokes. It seemed very Will.

They went right past his bed and into the bathroom. Travertine wall panels. A deep porcelain tub. Geometric stone-tile floor. He delicately plopped her on the pale limestone counter.

“This seems familiar,” she quipped as he moved between her legs - reaching over her to pull his first-aid supplies from the cabinet.

“You and glass don’t mix very well,” he smirked. He grabbed his tweezers and held her arm up to the light. There was a beat of comfortable silence before he added.“You did well,”

“Well in the sense that I ran away and hid until they sniffed me out?”

“You broke one of their noses.” Will released her arm and touched her cheek - tipping her head to the side - searching for injury. “You did what you had to.” His voice dropped low. “We should have been here.”

She hummed in acknowledgment. Yes - they should have.

“We’re gonna teach you self-defense or something, too.”

“You gonna be my teacher?”

His mouth broke into a broad, blinding grin and it made her heart shudder. He was devastatingly good looking sometimes. “I can if you want me to.”

“We’ll see.”

Will stepped back. His gaze raked over her bare thighs - assessing the damage. It wasn’t sexual - far from it. He was taking record of every scrape and cut and bruise. He paused before his expression suddenly went serious - almost uncomfortable.

“They didn’t…they didn’t try anything, did they?

“Huh?” He stared at her meaningfully. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “No.” She laughed before clamping her hand over her mouth. He frowned. “Sorry - I’m - I’m just kind of out of it.”

He dropped the bandage on the counter and planted both hands on either side of her. He was close now - his mouth a breath from hers. “Tonight shouldn’t have happened.”

“I know,” she murmured - slightly dizzy from the heat of him (or maybe that was her head wound).

“We decided we’re going to tell you everything,” He looked up and his expression was bare - exposed and genuine. The lines of his gorgeous face settled into something almost desperate. It stunned her.

“Tell me what?”

“Who your father is.”

[grungegoths]

TW: I think I was raped but I don’t know if it fits everyone’s definition of rape. I to.d him no over and over and he told me his boner wouldn’t go away until I slept with him and that I’d have to take him to the ER and pay the $500 bill and basically pressured me into it but I never said yes I just did nothing I payed there and cried the entire time. this was about two years ago. I threw out the clothes and underwear I was wearing the next morning. He died a month ago. I haven’t told anyone.

"" I guess I just don’t know if I was raped or what to call it. There were other times he kept asking over and over and I kept saying no but he wouldn’t let me be he’d say all sorts of things to get me to change my mind I eventually would just lay there and cry while it happened never actually saying yes. We were together for over 4 years. He threatened suicide all the times I tried to leave. He overdosed. The worst part is I feel I can never tell anyone because now hes dead they won’t believe me.""Hey love, first of all thank you so much for trusting me with this info. Second of all,im SO SO sorry that this happened to you. You didn't deserve this AT ALL. And yes, what happened to you is ABSOLUTELY a case of rape. I know that our misogynist society has a very narrow definition of rape where they think it is rape ONLY if the victim fought the rapist constantly or if the rapist forced themselves on the victim when in reality ALOT of rape cases arent like that.The fact that you kept saying no OVER AND OVER,and never said "yes" YET, he ignored you and pressurized you in having sex with him by making the bullshit "blue balls" excuse (which by the way isnt a real medical condition and didnt require you driving him to ER, let alone pay him any money), MAKES it a case of rape. Point blank.Consent isnt really consent if it is obtained through any form of coercion or pressure and since you never consented, it was rape. Sorry love.I assure you that you are neither stupid nor the only person who had gone through this horrible experience but cant believe that they were raped. Thousands, of people around the world have gone through this nightmare of an abusive relationship and think that it wasnt rape. You are not at fault, our society is.And as for, you not being able to tell anyone, i really cant tell you what to do here bc i dont know what kind of society, friend group, family, etc you have and how they are gonna react to this news. If you really want to tell about this irrespective of what people are gonna think, then i think you should wait for a few months more for the news or ur exs' demise to cool down so many ppl will be able to come out of their cloud of emotions and will be more likely to take your words seriously. But if this thing is REALLY biting you and you are desperate to tell, its up to you te decide okay?And even if noone around you believes you, just remember that at least I and thousands of people who have experienced the same shit as you would believe you. Trust me.I hope you will able to find peace in you life after this and will be happier. Again im sorry that this happened to you and wish that i could do more to help you!

[thenobullshtblog-blog]

Ink Etiquette

Since I am getting a new tattoo in September it’s made me think about all the questions, comments and unwanted concerns that I usually get when I advertise I am getting a new piece.With that, I've been inspired to do a rant style blog on stupid shit people say regarding my tattoos. At the end I’ll answer some typical general questions for those who want to get inked but are doing a little more research first.

First things First-tattoo etiquette, you gonna learn today.

Stop telling people they will regret their tattoos

What do you care? It’s not your body, you don’t have to look at it every day! Who gives AF. I cant tell you how many times people have told me I will regret the size of my tattoos, the placement, and that if all my pieces don’t have a huge significant meaning that im gonna wish I never got them. IT’S NOT TRUE. I am not you, so don’t project your shit onto me-10/10 we have different views about life, Negative Nancy. My two largest tattoo pieces have no special meaning. It’s Art. I love art of all kinds, and wanted it on my body because its beautiful and badass. I’ve had one of those tattoos for over 4 years now, have never regretted it a day in my life and its honestly my most highly complimented piece. So suck it.

Stop asking people if they’ve thought about how they will look when theyre 40 or 80

Well spoiler alert, I take phenomenal care of my skin and body in general and I have full intentions of being a super hot milf until I reach the puma and then cougar stage so I’m really not worried about anything up until my mid 70’s. I do understand the general laws of aging and gravity but can you honestly tell me that 80 year old saggy wrinkly tattooed skin looks WORSE than non tattooed saggy wrinkly 80 year old skin? Yeah I didn’t think so.

If you don’t like someones tattoo-you actually don’t have to Say Anything.

So many people have this burning desire to voice an opinion that was never actually asked for. If you don’t have anything nice to say-don’t say anything at all. Unless they ask you for your brutal honest opinion, I would try and avoid commenting. Now if someone has a shitty tattoo I’m not saying lie to them, but just keep their feelings in mind as this will be on their body Forever unless they get it removed or covered up. I've had people ask me if I like their tattoos-and if I don’t like them either because i’ts not my personal style, or it’s a poorly done tattoo this is what I say “oh wow, who did you go to?” and then I start asking about the artist. That’s a safe bet. You don’t need to comment, especially if your comment is not nice. Again-these are permanent, it’s not a shirt that they can return at the store.

Realize that your preference of tattoo style and size may be different than someone else

Go big or go home, has always been my thought when getting a new piece. I’ve always loved large tattoos, dainty isn’t really my style. I am a little extra and I like that part of my personality to show with the art I wear on my body. I’m so tired of the bulging eyes people give me when I tell them how big my piece will be, or when I show them the ones I have (after they ask). You don’t have to get a massive tattoo and I understand large pieces aren’t for everyone-OK but get your active bitch face under control especially if you’re going to ask someone a question about size. I’m not shitting on the infinity sign you have on your ankle-lets move forward.

Stop saying “my tattoos are for me”

This is also something people say to me once I tell them how large my piece will be, they normally respond with “oh, I’d never get a tattoo that big-my tattoos are just for me”. Cool? Mine are too? I didn’t pay all that money, give my literal blood sweat and tears to the ink table if all my pieces weren’t for me. I honestly prefer to have pieces that I can see in pictures, that are easily displayed where I will be able to admire them every day without being totally naked. I don’t need a hidden tattoo on my ass cheek for it to be “for me”. Unless you literally have a tattoo that you got because someone else begged you to get it for them because their skin physically cant be tattooed for some odd reason, and you want to specify that the new tattoo is for you-OKAY THEN STFU.

Stop asking people how much their pieces cost-it’s tacky.

We ALL KNOW that nice ink isn’t cheap. Generally speaking people don’t go around bragging about how much they dropped on a sleeve. Ink is an expression of Self, not Wealth. If you really like the artist who did that persons piece, ask them for the artists Instagram or website so you can get their contact info and email the artist directly to inquire about pricing. On the flip side-if someone’s tattoo looks like dogshit, don’t ask them how much they paid for it. They probably know it looks like dogshit and it’s a sensitive subject- you asking about the price is just salting the wound.

Before you ask somebody Why they are getting what they are getting, consider WHY you are asking them that.

There are usually only a few reasons why people ask about what someone is getting, whether they know it or not. A lot of people don’t even Realize why they are asking what they are asking until they think about it.

1. they love art, and are truly interested

2. they don’t support tattoos and want to give you the whole “don’t put a bumper sticker on a Ferrari spiel”

3. they want to add their two cents to what it is you are getting, try and impose their ideas or change your mind to redirect your vision. Regardless they will subconsciously judge you by the content of your piece and form ideas about you based on what you’re putting on your body and where.

If you are asking “why” for any reason other than the first one. Kindly fu*k off.

Nobody puts bumper stickers on Ferraris, but how many ‘rraris have you see with custom pant jobs, bruh?  And as for you Linda, nobody cares that you don’t like my futuristic post-apocalyptic leg sleeve idea-you’re not changing my mind. Fu*k your two cents if it’s not going toward the bill. And we both know it’s not, so again-kindly fu*k off.

 Alright- so that just about concludes my ranting about stupid shit people say or ask. Lets get to some actual Q&A’s/tips and comments.

What does it Actually Cost?

It depends on the artist! Some artists charge by the size of the piece, and some charge by the hour. Whenever I email a new artist I always ask them if they charge by the piece, or hourly-they’ll let you know. From what I’ve experienced I’ve typically had artists who charge between $150-$250 per hour, but my philosophy when getting a piece is “spare no expense”. This is going to be on your body FOREVER. No, I’m not ballin like LeBron, I’m ballin on a budget, so yes I do have to save up to get my pieces-but it’s always worth it. You get what you pay for.

What does it feel like?

The best way I can describe it, is a hot cat scratch over and over again. In some more sensitive areas it can feel like what I imagine branding would feel like. Everyone has a different pain tolerance and skin sensitivity, so some areas may be more sensitive on some, than others. A lot of people say the ribs are by far the most painful-to be honest when I got my sternum piece although the bony part of the sternum was murder, the ribs weren’t bad at all-in some spots it rattled my rib cage so much it kind of ticked. Likewise, some people get inner bicep/tricep tattoos like it’s nothing, the back of my tricep killed me. I was almost in tears. It totally just depends on your skin.

Go the Extra Mile

If you cant find a local artist that you Love, drive. Even if it’s 2-3 hours out of the way. Again, this is going to be on your body forever. I would rather drive an extra 2 hours or so for the artist I know is going to crush my piece, than a local artist who would probably do an okay job. That’s not to say you cant find a good local artist-but if you cant, expand your search radius.

Walk in, or wait?

It depends on what you want, but if you’re asking for my suggestion I would do as much research as you can on the tattoo shop. Look at customer reviews, the artists online portfolios. You'll have better luck than hoping you randomly pick a good place for a walk in. Although I do have a walk in lettering tattoo and it looks just fine haha For a planned piece understand that the artist you want may be booked for the next couple weeks, months or up to a year. Don’t get discouraged, you'll have time to really think about the piece you want, change any details, and usually if they're booked that far out-they're pretty good and well worth the wait.

Color or Black and Gray?

This is a personal preference. Growing up I Hated how pale I was, being a ginger was a struggle all around but the porcelain skin was definitely a target. I hated wearing shorts, and never did all through high school because of how beaming white my legs are. To be honest I didn’t start wearing shorts until I got my First tattoo. Artists and tattoo admirers alike have complimented my skin time and time again, and how the colors in my tattoos really pop because of how pale I am. So, I prefer color tattoos because they show up super vibrant and it makes me feel even more comfortable in this vampire skin. I don’t necessarily think color is better over black and gray and in some cases I think that it also totally depends on the type of piece you are going for. Consider your skin tone, the type/style of piece you are getting and then decide.

Think it over, and speak up.

I feel like a lot of the “regret” that people are talking about with tattoos comes from spontaneous ideas or trends. There have been so many times I have seen a bad ass concept for a tattoo and I thought about finding and artist and setting an appointment ASAP. The next day I will revisit the idea and go eh, I guess I don’t love it that much. I have a Pinterest board that is just for my tattoo ideas, I pin shit on there so later I can look at it and think if that’s something I really want or not. I definitely recommend either pinning similar images of a concept you want, drawing it out, or writing it down in a notepad and then sleep on it. You'll be surprised how quickly you may change your mind in the course of even a few days, a week, months or a year. If you’ve had the same tattoo concept for quite a while, and every time you revisit the idea you still love it just as much-it’s probably safe to start on that piece when you're ready.

When you finally decide to get your piece, the artist will usually have it drawn out in some form, either on paper-or on an iPad of sorts that shows you all the details and potential coloring (if you're getting color). Do Not be afraid to speak up if you don’t like something or want to change something. It is their job as the artist to accommodate your wants especially since they are putting something permanent on your body. Even when you get the stencil on, if you don’t like the placement, or want to change something-let them know. They can remove the stencil pretty easily and print out a new one after they fix whatever it is you want fixed. But don’t just deal with something if you're certain you don’t like it. You're gonna have to look at it every day.

Artistic Freedom

This is just another opinion-and by no means a fact. But I’ve found by giving the artist freedom on my piece has always made them turn out even better than I imagined. There are quite a few people out there who go in with a very specific piece or picture in mind and are disappointed when their piece doesn’t look EXACTLY like the picture. Well, that’s pretty hard to replicate as it is but especially when that artist isn’t the original artist of that picture or drawing that you bring to the table. This does not go for portraits-obviously you want your Marilyn Monroe to look like Marilyn Monroe and a portrait artist definitely should be able to replicate that haha I am talking about more “creative” pieces you want. My suggestion, have a few pictures of things you like (and some things you don’t like) regarding the concept of your tattoo and tell your artist to have fun with it. If your artist enjoys drawing up your piece and has freedom to add their flair on it, it will probably turn out better than you micro managing the shit out of them. I’ve always given artists freedom and I’ve always been crazy surprised at how the piece they gave me turned out way better than anything I had in mind.

This is all that I can think of? I probably lost 99% of you by the first 500 words, but to those of you who made it to 2,376..cheers.