#last night I stayed up until 5 am like some crack addict

[atlasshrugd]

the vampire diaries is either the best thing in the world for me or the worst.

[shirophantomvox]

Hold My Hand- Illumi x Reader

OMG thank you! My first international fan! Thank you for this wonderful prompt! This was requested by @illucilfer .

Summary: Today’s story takes place in a 1950s diner by a frequently used Interstate; Interstate 95. We know this dinner for its delicious hamburgers, hot dogs, milkshakes, and jukebox records, but every night one Patreon never returns home. A few men who were angry about your recent arrest have shot you both. As you both stare at each other exchanging mental signals, everyone around you tries to help you to the hospital. Y/N is narrating the story. I seem to have fewer grammar errors that way. FYI, Bold and italicized font will reference a thought or flashback.

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Let’s get started!

The leaves have turned bright yellow and orange, fluttering every second to the ground. I could hear little children a while away laughing and playing in the community park; throwing up the leaves, jumping into piles, and throwing them at each other. The smell of freshly baked donuts brightened everyone’s mood. All you had to do was take one bite and your face would brighten and crack a smile. Dining at Cupid’s Kitchen will always have your heart and interest.

Interstate 95 was always heavy with traffic during this time of year. The folks of Dallas celebrated mulch annually. The “Mulch Fest” was a street fair that stretched 1.5 miles to the east that contained music, drinks, farmer panels, homemaker Q&A, and other activities that southerners enjoy. Illumi and I are only here because of an unfinished assignment. We have worked night and day for countless days trying to catch Jack “Da Hamor” Gilberton, but he was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I allowed my anger to get the best of me and made the executive decision to take a day off. I barred Illumi from searching, tracking, or any form of hunting for our target. The life of a bounty hunter and an assassin can thrill, but it can drive you insane if you allow it.

Ironically, Illumi and I both enjoy fall. It is perfect for cuddling (although he acts as if he’s too good to cuddle), wearing creative hoodies, going to pumpkin patches, and attending apple orchids. I tend to “lose my cool” when we have dates there. When I was a child, my family did not go on trips like these because they were over an hour away from our home and I had 5 siblings. But once I made money for myself, I made it my mission to go to one at least 5 times out of the year. Illumi enjoys the different fudge, hot cider, and candy apples. He almost broke a tooth on one!

“Say cheese snag-a’-tooth!”

“Stop it. It’s not funny!”

“It is! Could you imagine if you lost your two front teeth? You’d look almost adorable as you did in the 1st grade!”

“How did you know about that?”

“Duh! It happens to everyone, but your mother showed me the pictures, of course.”

“Curses!”

Illumi’s sweet tooth is just like Killua’s; both have a weakness for chocolate. Except, Killua will admit defeat while his older brother keeps denying it.

Cupid’s Dinner has been in Dallas for over 55 years. A black woman established it in 1945 by the name of Mary-Lou Benson. Since then, Mary’s family has been running the shop, making sure all of her customers are happy with the service. During the turn of each season, Cupid’s Dinner gives its customer's food options based on the season. The fall options include donuts, candy apples, different flavored cider, fudge, and hot coffee specials. As much as everything looked appetizing, I could not order it all. Our server, Little Ben, placed our drinks in front of us and handed us the menu. I could tell he was happy with his line of work, just as I was to be with Illumi.

“You all take your time. I’ll be back in five.”

Ilumi glanced on both sides of the room, scanning for Jack Gilberton, already forgetting the agreement we established.

“Illumi, what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“You keep looking around like you’ve seen Da Hamor. Eat your donut and relax, sweetheart.”

“I cannot relax. I must stay on alert.”

“If I can relax, so can you. It’s not that hard.”

“Fine. If I die, it’s on your head… literally.”

The jingling bell rang almost every second when a customer walked in. It was a joy to everyone's ears; the spirit of Mary Lou-Benson was alive and well. An overwhelming feeling of love seemed to have overtaken the diner. After examining the bistro for quite some time now, each customer had been using their cellphones at the table instead of chatting with their families. Many traditional families hated that about this generation but they should be open to new traditions forming. Illumi dislikes using cell phones or tablets at the table unless we use them for missions. He has emphasized how rude it is to be surfing the web about utter nonsense while someone is speaking. This is a pet peeve of his, something I’ll never step on his toe about. Although I think that is overdoing it, I respect it.

Little Ben served our table quickly, leaving us with two dishes of a classic chicken sandwich, kettle chips, one chocolate, and vanilla milkshake. Milkshakes were my weakness; I nearly foam at the mouth when I see one. When I found out that Illumi had NEVER had a milkshake, I almost fainted.

“No. I’ve never had a milkshake.”

“Huh? You’re missing out, pal.”

“What’s the big deal? Isn’t it frozen milk?”

“Not just frozen milk. You can add many flavors, toppings, and whip cream!”

“Well, then. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

We thanked Little Ben for his service as he clocked out for the day.

“I have to admit these sandwiches look very appetizing.”

“You can say that again!”

Before I nibbled on my sandwich, I wanted to take a moment and adore the man before me; Illumi Zoldyck. A man full of mysteries, professionalism, skill, and talent. His enormous eyes were immersed in the large pieces of chicken in between the sourdough bread. He licked his index finger vigorously; allowing the homemade honey mustard to drip enough from the bread to the plate in between licks. Just the sight of him actually relaxing for once has blown me away. For once, Illumi Zoldyck could be himself and I had the privilege to witness it.

“Um… why are you staring at me? Do I have food on my face,” he asked; violently wiping his mouth off with a provided cloth napkin.

“Oh! Ha, ha; no reason. I wanted to see your reaction after drinking your milkshake. That’s all.”

“Why? It’s just a drink.”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“Babe? What happened to LuLu or Illumi-Lu?”

I gasped and pretended to be surprised… although I was a little.

“I did not know that you liked those pet names. I assumed it mortified you.”

“Who told you that? That never rolled off my tongue. “What I said was” — He bent closer to the table and to me; glancing both to the right and left to ensure no wandering ears were around — “I prefer Illumi-Lu to be said in the bedroom and LuLu when we’re alone, like how we are right now.”

“Aww…. ok,” I yelled in excitement.

“Don’t blow it out of proportion, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

As we ate, Illumi hummed along to the tune that played a few times on the restaurant's jukebox. Illumi and I were born in the mid-90s, but listening to 50s music was a part of his aesthetic. I was told that he had an “old soul” which sounds romantic at first until you realize how men were during that era. His raging temper was a noticeable toxic trait, but it has drastically improved. Nonchalantly sipping on his milkshake and then eating more of his chips, he grazed the soft part of his left hand over mine as he continued to hum.

“What’s the name of this song? You seem to know it rather well.”

“Put your head on my shoulder, a famous song from the 60s. I heard my parents sing it once and since then, they have addicted me to it. Do you like it?”

“Yes, in fact, I love it. All of this is—”

“A surprise to you? Well, enjoy it while it lasts because once I find Jack Gilberton, this side of me will hide for a while.”

“Understood.”

Damn! I was just feeling connected to him again!

The music swelled; everyone seemed to be happy. Not an evil spirit insight to disrupt this beautiful moment. For once in my life, my raven-haired beauty actually held my hand tight, stole a few of my barbecue kettle chips, and gazed into my eyes harmlessly. His lips brushed against both of my hands, ever so lightly placing kisses on both sides of them. Illumi’s gentle smile warmed my heart as my lingering thoughts of hope stayed intact.

The welcoming bell jingled again. Two men in black leather jackets, stone-washed blue jeans, and tattooed all over their arms came into the diner. The men seemed to be bikers who had just left their own “spot” but one thing struck me as they continued to walk towards the staff. They both wore sunglasses when the sunset for the day. Not to mention that the lights were not dim in the diner and the moon was as bright as ever. The second man had his eyes glued in my direction. My heart beat faster as I wondered if Jack Gilberton had found us. Could you imagine?

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby

Squeeze me oh-so-tight

Show me you love me too

I am used to coming in contact with enemies on my hit list, but given Jack’s criminal history; I felt like I may not survive his attacks. Illumi will survive, but just barely. Both men approached the checkout, crowing over Little Ben’s sister. She was a short woman but full of might, and I could tell by the shakiness in her voice she was frightened. I wanted to step in so badly, but I didn't want to blow my cover just in case it was, in fact, Jack Gilberton. After I assume, ordering food, both men stood by the entrance, blocking it from others from entering and leaving. The sound of their old, beat up-lighters crackled as one lit a joint and the other lit a cigarette. This horrid smell ruined the atmosphere because they were not in a designated area and it drowned out the lovely aroma of the food being served.

“If you gentlemen would like to smoke, you need to go outside. There is no smoking in here.”

“What? You think you’re better than me because you don’t smoke?”

“Huh? I never said that, sir. I asked for you to go outside. Not all of our customers can deal with it.”

They did not move a muscle. The sound of their mucous laughter made everyone’s stomach turn. They laughed at the young girl and called her many slurs. Little Ben’s sister didn’t flinch, nor did she cry; she remained still, staring at the men. I had just enough of their obnoxious behavior.

“If you do not leave, I will call the police.”

“The hell you won’t.”

Put your lips next to mine, dear

Won't you kiss me once, baby?

He drew a gun from his left side. He aimed it at Little Ben’s sister and demanded that she emptied the drawer. She refused. Her stone, iron will reminded me of Illumi; no matter the circumstance, they remained intact, determined to fight until the end. Bravery is always encouraged, but too much will cause your life to be taken away. Little Ben’s sister grabbed a fake till that they kept under the real one and threw it at both men. Fake money fluttered everywhere in the small diner, mimicking confetti. Gunshots rang in all directions as the imbeciles recklessly shot, aiming for Little Ben’s sister. Everyone threw themselves on the ground to avoid being shot, but luck cannot spread itself throughout an entire room of people. A young child, an older man, and another worker were shot in their lower leg. Blood reflected from the ground as it continued to seep. Ignoring injured civilians is a jackass move and continuing to deny the fact would prove that the oath I pledge to meant nothing. Sure, bounty hunters must remain hidden, but if someone is injured, I must help them.

The child was lying lifeless on the polished marble floor. He would not respond to my shaking or my silent whispers. When I rolled him over, my heart broke into a million pieces. This child had no chance of survival; a few bullets struck his chest, one just inches away from his heart. A tear rolled down my cheek.

“Why must the good die young,” I whispered to myself.

“... Because snitches get stitches.”

Before I could gain sight of who stated this utterly corny response, I felt an overwhelming amount of pain in my lower back. It felt like a million tiny needles were jabbed so far through my skin that they entered my intestine. I could still hear, but my body would not move. I tried and tried, but my brain would not signal my legs.

Move! Move, damn it!

It’s odd; I could hear myself talk, but my body would not move at all. The sound of another thudding body made my mind jump. My heart had already been pounding enough to try to resuscitate my organs to move, but a familiar semi-blurring sight of none other than Mr. Illumi Zoldyck cleared my sight. My brain went wild. I didn’t know if Illumi died or if he became paralyzed, but one thing is for sure. We finally made eye contact that felt special; something I hadn’t felt since the day I met him. Our contact felt like magnets; an unbreakable bond. Suddenly, my icy hand felt warmth around my palm and fingers. Illumi simultaneously fell in a way that connected our hands. Our unbreakable bond, the warmth of his fingers laying on top of mine, and the gaze we shared somehow made me feel like it was just the two of us alone. I could hear his thoughts loud and clear; thoughts that came from the heart.

“Please help me. Before it’s too late, LuLu,” I cried, thinking I was going insane. “I don’t want to leave if it means leaving you behind.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

“Please! I want to live a life. Life as a bounty hunter, build a support system to our children, and a good lover is all I want to be.”

“You are a warrior and so am I. We have been through worse. This is nothing.”

Mere eye contact is all we need to exchange wandering conversations. The bond that we’ve created is something so strong that I haven’t realized it until now. The warmth emitted from his loose grasp seems to lose its effectiveness. It blurred my vision beyond recognition, leaving Illumi as a near figment of my imagination.

“Oh no. I guess this is it.”

My vision darkened. Illumi was slipping away as my lingering thoughts almost made my heart give out from exhaustion. I was ready to accept my fate, but it seemed like fate had other plans. My vision was still darkening by the second, but my sense of touch remained there. Smooth fingers outline my arms, torso, and chest. I heard muffled voices yelling and screaming about calling for assistance, but I didn’t care if they came or not. I made peace with my life’s end. Bit by bit, my breathing slowed down, but my sense of touch remained heightened. I felt a rubber glove touch my face and neck, examining it for any damage.

The jukebox continued to play Illumi’s favorite song, Put Your Head on my Shoulder. I remembered the day I laid my head on his shoulder; boy, what an endearing moment that was. It was something I took for granted, something I should have savored, for I never knew that this moment would have happened. The song grew muffled by the second verse. That verse repeated every time I tried to force myself to take what felt like my last gaze at my raven-haired beauty.

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe

You and I will fall in love (you and I will fall in love)

-FIN.

A/N: Since you’ve made it to the end, I’ll say something. The reader did not die in the end. They were later revived at the hospital.

[thelittleboyfromloveactually]

Worth it

Jj maybank x reader

Promt: 1. “Don’t touch me!” And 7. “I can’t see you get hurt!”

Promt list (angst)

Warnings: physical abuse, blood and injuries, yelling, angst, cussing (these topics can be triggering to some!!!!!!)

Word count: 1837

@dylansslutt I hope this is what you wanted!!! Thank you so much for requesting! I really enjoyed wrighting this and I hope it’s a fun read! Requests are still open! Love ya!

6 years ago I moved from New York City to outer banks, North Carolina. I was the weird new girl from the big city. My family wasn’t rich, not even close. Infact money was the reason we moved here. My dad lost his job because of an alcohol problem and my mom was a police officer. We couldn’t afford to live off just her mortgage, so when my mom got a job offer here in obx we couldn’t turn it down. Here it was cheaper, there was a school for me to go and my mom grew up here so she had some friends. But me, I had no friends, not one. That was until my second week at school, this little blond boy, jj maybank came up to me. We were ten at the time, him and his friends were going to go to the beach later and he said I could come. Because I didn’t have any other friends I wasn’t in any place to turn down this offer. Ever sense then jj and I have been best friends. I didn’t know jj the best out of everyone but I guess that intrigued me. Last year my parents went through a divorce, my dad was losing it, his addiction was getting worse and worse. My mom moved us out leaving my dad with 10,000 dollars to get help. It was hard, even though he was an alcoholic he was still my dad. Jj was there for me the whole time, became closer than ever. Jj knows everything about me, my past, my home life, my favorite ice cream flavor, my favorite place everything. I know as much as I can about jj, I know that his dad beats him, he spends a lot of nights on my couch, I know that he plans to drop out of school and travel and surf. He’s my best friend but the problem is, ever sense that day that he came up to me, I’ve had a crush on him. He didn’t like me that way though and even if he did, “no pogue on pogue macking”.

Today is my 17 birthday, and here that means only one thing, a keger, a big ass keger. I love parties but there’s always trouble at *these* parties. I would prefer to just get drunk and hang out at John b.s place. So I’ve spent the entire morning trying to talk them out of it.

“I swear to god kie!” I yelled

“Don’t even try Y/N!” She said

“Come on you love parties!” John b added

“No, I love small parties, remember the last time we had a keger?! Ya know you almost *drowned*!!!” I said

“It is her birthday guys” Sarah said, Sarah my by best girl friend, I haven’t known her for long but we immediately bonded.

“Oh come on!” Said John b

“Fine, Sarah is right it’s Y/Ns choice” kie said

John b sighed “fine, I’ll call and tell jj”

A few mins later John b hung up the phone

“Alright jj said he’ll be here around 4:00, he says happy birthday, he’s sorry he is not here” John b said

4:30

“Here should have been here 30 minutes ago” John b said

Everyone was laying around John Bs living room, sweating their asses off. We had been waiting for jj, he wasn’t answering his phone. Normally we would just leave it alone but jj never missed my birthday.

“Should we try calling again?” Sarah asked

“We’ve called 15 times, and I texted him” I said shaking my head

It was silent

“I’m going” I said as I stood up

“No the fuck your not!” John b said standing up and blocking my way to the door

“Yes I am! He could be hurt!” I said trying to move John be out of the way

“Y/N you know what he said!” John b said

Yes I did know, the pogues had a list of rules, but jj also had his own

Never go to JJs house

Never under any circumstance break rule number one

“I don’t give a fuck about what he said!” I yelled, when your mom is a cop you pick up on some self defense. John b was in my way, and i would never hurt him…..but jj may be hurt, I had seen first hand what his dad could do. I ducked down and swiped John Bs legs making him fall.

“Wtf Y/N?!” Kie said

“Sorry guys” I said as I ran toward the door. I pushed it opened and ran to my car. Kie and Sarah came running after me yelling my name. I ignored it and started toward JJs house.

About 5 minutes later I pulled into the driveway. Well the kinda driveway, it was more like a clearing with rubble and weeds. There was a car there, jjs dad's car. My stomach dropped at the sight. I took a deep breath

“It’s gonna be fine” I said as a opened my car door and stepped out

I walked up to his front door, my hand was shaking as I went to knock. Why was my hand shaking? It was gonna be fine, right? I knocked, but JJ didn't open the door, his dad did. He looked drunk, he had a cigarette in his mouth, he was dirty and he had an old cut on his face. This was a bad idea, jj may not even be here.

“Uh um hi s-sir” I Stuttered on my words

“Who are ya?” He said look around me

“Um I I’m Y/N, jjs friend, is he here?” I said looking into the house

“Ah you're his little slut girlfriend, ya here to break up with him? Not surprised” he said stepping closer to me

I stepped back, I could defend myself against him if I needed to, I reminded myself, “actually no sir, I’m just his friend, is jj here?”

“Ya he’s here, what do you want with him?”

“Where is he?” I ignored his question

“How about you come with me little lady and I’ll buy you a drink?” He said and grabbed my hand

I ripped my hand out of his and punched him in the face

“You little bitch” he yelled holding his now bleeding cheek, he swung his arm again to punch me. He hit me right in the eye.

Then suddenly he came at me and I dodged him and pushed him past me. He was definitely drunk. I ran inside and closed the door, my hands were shaking even more, I tried to lock it and luckily I was able to. Then I heard a car start in the driveway, the car sounded older. Not mine, but jjs dads. I let out a breath of relief and turned around to look at the house. The coffee table was filled with beer bottles, there was glass on the floor and a broken picture frame. I needed to find jj.

“JJ!!! JJ!!!” I yelled his name, I could hear the crack in my voice when I yelled.

I made my way through the small, dirty house and to his room. The door was locked

“Jj?! Please open the door!” I said as I rocked on the door

I was about to say something again but the door swung open

“What do you want?!” Jj yelled as he slammed the door frame

I jumped, almost tripping over myself. Jjs face was bruised and bloody. He was shirtless, his chest was covered in bruises. I looked up at him, I was confused. I saw his face soften when he saw me, he looked surprised, then he got angry again.

“Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?!” He said stepping closer to me

I was at a loss of words, I was already shaky but when Jj yelled it set me off.

“I um I-I” I started but was cut off by jj

“Fuck Y/N, did he do this to you?!” Jj yelled

“Jj please stop ye-“

“That son of a bitch! I swear to fucking god” he began walking out of the hallway toward the door

I stood up “JJ STOP!” I yelled grabbing his arm

“Don’t touch me! Why can you fucking listen Y/N?! I told you to stay away! And what did you do?! You didn’t! You didn’t fucking stay away! And now” he paused calming down and catching his breath “now you are hurt, and it’s my fucking fault! I swear I’m going to kill him” he said moving his hand over his lips and looking down

“What did you expect me to do Jj?” I was trying to stay calm “you didn’t show up and that scared me, I came to make sure you were ok, and obviously you aren’t, I can’t sit my and watch you come to school with black eyes and bloody lips”

“Fuck you Y/N! You had one job!”

Fuck being calm “you know what Jj I came because I care and because I am your fucking friend ok?! It’s ok to let people care about you! It’s ok *to* care! You don’t need to push everyone away!” I yelled back at him

“I do care Y/N! That’s why I don’t want you here! I can’t see you get hurt!!!” He yelled grabbing my hand

“Well, I’m completely fine so” I said taking my hand out of his and crossing my arms across my chest

“Your not fine”

“I am!”

“Nope”

“Yes! Yes I am, and why tf is it so important to you that I’m hurt, you get hurt, so does John b, and Kie, and rafe, but he definitely deserves that-“ I was cut off from my blabbing

“Y/N I care because I love you alright?! Calm down” he said

“W-what?”

“I’-I’m” he started moving his head as if he was trying to think of what to say, I looked at him, studying his features, then I decided I was going to kiss him, ya ya I was going to kiss him. And I did, my lips met his in one quick movement. He seemed surprised at first but then his lips moved into mine. It was a passionate, needed kiss, but amazing never the less. His tongue moved, asking permission that was granted.

We broke the kiss both trying to catch our breath

“Wait Y/N-“ je started

“I love you too jj, I have forever” I said smiling

“But what about the rules and stuff, I mean I don’t follow rules like ever but” he was cute when he was confused, I began giggling at his attemp

“What? what is so funny?” He asked

“You are adorable,” I said kissing him again

It’s funny, I never thought that I would be here, kissing jj fucking maybank. We we’re definitely gonna get some crap from the rest of the pogues but it was definitely worth it.

[peachiekoo]

Drunken Wishes || JJK

“Shit I think I wanna kiss you right now.”

⇢ Pairing: Fuckboy!Jungkook x Reader

⇢ Genre: Idk, Spicy?

⇢ Rating: NC-17

⇢ Warning(s): Kissing, implied sex, alcoholic beverages, sexual tension, swearing.

⇢ Word Count: 1.6k

⇢ Posted: July 14th, 2020

⇢ A/n: THIS IS UNEDITED AND IS A SCRAP THAT I DECIDED TO POST SO YOU WOULD HAVE SOMETHING FOR NOW. THIS IS ALSO VERY OLD SO ITS VERY BAD I APLOGIZE

“Hurry up and spin the damn bottle already Jisoo!” Seulgi whines out of irritation. “We are fucking 23 playing spins the bottle. Just say you wanna fuck him get this over with!” she shot back. You do your best to contain your laughter but Jeongguk fucks it up by letting out his contagious laugh

It’s well known out of the friend group that Seulgi has had a crush on Lee Minho for the longest so you decided on inviting him to her surprise birthday party as a special gift. Hopefully, the gift ends up with him fucking her up or you would be hearing non-stop nagging from her for weeks.

“Let’s just play a few rounds for our birthday girl,” Jimin chimes in. “See I’ll go first!” You watch as he twirls the glass bottle and watches it lands on Jeongyeon.

You see his face slightly drops in disbelief before everyone laughs at how ironic it is. You wouldn’t say they hate each other but don’t necessarily like each other.

They were like enemies with benefits. The sexual tension between the two of them was always notable but they both refuse to admit their benefits.

“So just a kiss right?” Jeongyeon asks abruptly. Seulgi shoots a smile to Jimin.

“In the room, you two go. Also, I mean the guest room. If you go in my room I will deadass kill both of you.” Seulgi warns.

Jimin puts his hands up proving defenseless, shooting Jeongyeon a smirk which didn't go unnoticed by you. Once they got into the room Seulgi pointed her attention back to the bottle. “Guk, you go.” You saw him loosen up a bit before scooting closer to the bottle.

He twists the bottle around and your eyes watch heavy on it as it spins to you. You instantly felt your cheeks tingling before looking up. “Would you look at that?” Mark adds as if he knows something you aren’t aware of. You decide to ignore him, looking over to the boy who‘s bottle picked you out of all people, who already has a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Okay wait,” your thoughts finally getting to you. “I am not kissing him.” you rebuttal.

“Oh come on, we are playing spin the bottle. It’s the only rule of the game.” Jisung calls out. You avoid eye contact and just look at the bottle.

“Well, I don’t feel comfortable kissing Jeongguk,” You defended. “especially not in front of all of you. How come Min and Jeongyeon get a room and we don’t?” Seulgi tilts her head towards you before taking another shot of Hennessy.

“Cause, you know if they stayed out here we would be watching them make out for a good 5 minutes. Y/n, they’ve been in that room this whole time and I know damn well one kiss doesn’t take that long.” You couldn’t help but give a small smile towards that comment. Your eyes make its way back over to Jeongguk.

He looks amused by this whole situation. “It’s not like a have some type of sickness, Y/n.” He then scoots up a bit. “Are you scared you might fall for me?” he teases.

You roll your eyes at him. “Never Jeonggukie.” you tease back. He only ever allowed you to call him that. Your friend group would always joke around saying Jeongguk had a soft spot for you but you were always quick to deny any allegations.

He grins at you, “Then prove it Y/n,” he lowers his tone a bit.

“Go ahead and kiss me since you’re so bold.” Maybe it was the alcohol kicking in or the way his voice lowered an octave but, he had you crawling your way over to him. You felt the eyes watching you as you made a risky move.

Once you were finally facing towards him, you sat back up and looked at him. “Your move, lover boy.” He wasted no time gently placing his hand on your chin and drawing you closer, licking his lips and he looked at yours.

Before you knew it, his warm and soft lips were on yours. He moved back after a peck but you pressed your lips back on his. He placed his hand in the dip of your waist and brung you closer so you were straddling around him. He bit your lower lip for an opening, drawing out a small whine from you, which you happily obliged. He tasted like the alcoholic beverage he had beforehand but you could still taste some sweetness. His taste was way more addicting than you expected. You were enjoying the whole situation too much. Exactly what you were worried about.

You heard your friends small ooh’s and whistled but stopped you were when you pressed yourself against him and head a hardly audible groan come from his throat. You were turned on. You placed your hands in his chest moved back. Drawing in a deep breath of air. His eyes looked clouded. Full of lust. You fucked up already. You quickly stood up and fixed your dress that was ridden up.

You mumbled out a small, “I need to go to the bathroom.” before you nearly dashed out of there. Once you were safe in confined bathroom space, you looked at yourself in the mirror and thought about everything that just happened. You couldn’t believe what you had just done. You were slightly shaky at this point because who knows what could happen tonight at this point. You heard a soft knock on the door which made you jump. “Yes?”

“It’s me and Jisoo!” Seulgi called out.

You cracked the door open to peek through. You were nervous about everything but once you saw their faces, you felt yourself feel more relaxed. Once you opened the door for them, you hurriedly shut it. “I’m so fucked.” You confessed placing your head in Jisoo’s shoulder. She comfortingly patted your head and hugged you. “Maybe it’s a good thing?” Jisoo mumbled. “No, it’s not.” You replied.

“Look, you’re gonna be fine. Just don’t overthink it. Walk-in there like nothing even happened and you’re good.” Seulgi suggested. You let out a chuckle through your nose before you looked back up. “Yeah. Go back, I’ll be out there. Just give me a sec.” You told them.

You sat in there for a good minute alone, fixing your smeared lipstick and fixed your hair before you walked back out, taking your seat back to Seulgi. She gave you a comforting look before she put her eyes back on Jisoo spinning the bottle. You felt Jeongguk’s eyes lingering on you but you refused to interact. You saw Jimin walk out with red lipstick stains on his lips and Jeongyeon with her slightly disheveled hair. You felt Seulgi gently jab you with her elbow before whispering, “See, I told you. They have to have had a quickie.”

The warm air with the iconic summer breeze made you feel more at peace than you had in a while. You wished you could stay in this moment forever. Watching the stars and the half-moon. Seeing the clouds stream across the sky. You rest your forearms in the balcony and you just take everything in. All thoughts were cleared until you heard a knock.

You turned to see the same black-haired boy who you had made out with a few hours prior. Your head was filled again, but you gave him a soft smile to throw him off in any way you could. “Mind me?” You shook your head and looked off into the late-night lights.

You had so many questions about everything. Your mind was so confused. Did the kisses mean anything? Did you want what happened? Did you want things to go further? But the biggest one that constantly came back was what did Jeongguk think?

“You know,” You started, “tonight was fun,” you admitted. “even though our present for Seulgi didn’t go out the way it was supposed to.” You quipped. Jeongguk snickered at that mention. It was a comfortable silence that lasted for a few seconds before Jeongguk broke the silence.

“Does that also includes us almost fucking in front of everyone or?” He asked you in an almost playful tone. You pressed your lips tight at that. “Of course he would ask this question.” you thought to yourself. “Possibly,” you replied, purposely seeming more focused on the scenery than the boy. You seemed nonchalant but really anxiety was shooting up.

It was now or nothing, your moment to ask. “Guk, did you like it?” you implored. “Like what? The part where you moaned or pressed against me?” You felt yourself becoming red at his remark. “I don’t know? I guess all of it?” You buried your face in your hands, nervous to what he would say. He looked at you and smiled. “Yeah, I did.” He then stepped closer to you. “Maybe a bit too much actually,” he grinned.

You looked up at him and shared eye contact. “Shit, I think I wanna kiss you right now.” you stepped closer to him, feeling more confident. “Then do it,” you whispered. “Don’t tempt me, Princess.” You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m not,” you confessed. He placed his hand in the dip of your back and brung his face closer until you felt his alcohol smelled breath against your skin.

“Hey everyone is about to leave so- Oh.” Jimin deadpanned, causing you to jump out of Jeongguk’s grip. You instantly looked the other way before freezing up. Jeongguk shot Jimin an annoyed look. “Yeah okay, we’ll be there,” Jimin smirked and walked back out.

Jeongguk then turned his attention towards you. “Now-” “Guk, maybe we should go, Jeongyeon was both of our rides.” you interrupted before rushing inside. “Cockblocker,” Jeongguk mumbled out before he followed after you.

You were already waiting by the door by the time he caught up. You purposely avoided him once again.

© peachiekoo — all rights reserved. reposting or modifying of any medium is not allowed. translations not allowed.

[maddpopcorn]

It’s Okay || pjm

Pairing: Maine Coon!Hybrid!Jimin x Male!Reader

Request:  hiii can i request a jimin x male reader fic? maybe an angst/comfort hybrid au where jimin is a homeless hybrid who escaped from his abuser owner and is now trying to survive in the streets. the reader would find him and try to help him, but since jimin is scared and doesn’t trust humans, it’s a bit harder than he expected.. (i’d prefer a series but you can make it a one-shot or drabble or whatev boils your noodles lol) thank you in advance and have a nice day!

Summary: When walking down your normal road, you spy a long, fluffy tail. And when it connects to a bruised and bloodied up hybrid who immediately hisses at you, you find yourself trying everything in your power to bring him home….even if you have to suffer a couple of scratches along the way.

Warnings: Angst, lots of angst, burning of the skin with cigarettes, mentions of starving from neglect/punishment, punching, slight mentions blood and cleaning the wound, night terrors

A/N: Wow, you were my first request! I am so sorry it took long. However, I enjoyed writing this piece a lot so I hope you enjoy it, too! If people like this so much, perhaps I could make a second part (I already have one hybrid series I’m planning on making so it might be too much to make this into a series :)) Also, forgive me if there are any mistakes!

Jimin hates being a hybrid. No, scratch that. He despises it. He despises himself. Because of his nature, he’s immediately treated with little to no respect by most humans in society. He’s treated like he’s some type of scum on the bottom of their shoes.

Which isn’t true at all but who will ever listen to him, right? He is just a mangy good for nothing hybrid, after all.

He despises humans. After all of this time observing them, after experiencing them first hand, he has deemed them greedy, selfish and just evil.

They are all evil.

Without his permission, tears well up in his eyes, and he hastily wipes them away out of habit in fear of being caught. He blinks and then dryly chuckles, looking down at his burnt scars that dotted his arms. Who is going to burn their cigarettes into his now dry and cracked skin? Who is going to punch their frustrations out on him again?

No one, right?

He escaped them.

He escaped them.

.

Sighing in relief and with a smile, you wave bye to the last customer that walks out of the coffee shop. Immediately, your smile drops.

“Holy hell, today was busier than a fucking highway,” you groan, shoulders drooping dramatically. You let the broom slide in your hand until only the tips of your fingers are barely holding it up.

“Yeah, why do these people need all of this coffee on a Friday afternoon anyway?” Yoongi complains, dropping his head on the counter, his recently dyed mint hair covering his eyes. “It’s like they’re addicted or something. Damn.”

“Takes one to know one, Yoongles,” you tease, holding the broom properly again and resuming sweeping.

Huffing at your joke, he stretches, popping several bones in the process (that you may or may not be worried about).“Yeah but unlike them, I know my limits.”

“Hah, funniest joke of the year. Yeah, right, dude.”

He reels back like he has touched fire and gasps. “Wha-excuse me, mister but I know my limits.”

“No, you really don’t.” 

“Ye-”

“Yoongi-” you stop sweeping, putting your hand on your hip. “-you drank 5 cups of coffee in one sitting during exam week. And then, the next week, you kept chugging energy drinks like they were nothing so you could finish your ‘precious song’.” One by one, you start listing off all the times he has drank too much coffee and energy drinks. His body deflates with each jab at his pride until he’s crumbling in on himself.

It’s a hot minute before any of you say anything, quietly cleaning up the shop so that you could finally go home.

“Fuck off, pretty boy,” he finally says, middle finger in the air and face heating up. 

You bark out a laugh. “So you finally admit that I’m pretty, huh? Jin owes me $5.”

“You fucking-”

.

“Don’t forget, 8 o’clock tonight, my apartment. Don’t be late like last time, brat,” Yoongi scolds, adjusting his glasses. You throw your hands up, a cheeky smirk on your face.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You wave bye to your coworker as you exit the coffee shop. Humming to yourself, you begin your journey on your normal path to home. Mentally checking off your to-do list before you have to get ready for the annual hangout you and your friends have every week, you spot in the corner of your eye a fluffy, blonde blob. You turn your head, fully stopping and squinting.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, creeping up on the blob. It grows until it stops at a…

“Holy shit!” You yell, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth in disbelief.

A hybrid. A cat hybrid, to be specific, is laying on the dirty and wet ground of the alley way. His eyes are closed, and you timidly squat down near him to examine him. Matted blonde hair sticks to his face with what you can only assume is sweat and dirt which is also smudging across his face. His lips are forming a pout and he moves a bit, making you jump back in surprise. When he stays still after, you continue your examination. His skin looks dry and his cheeks are sunken in. Trailing your eyes down his form, you notice how worn and ragged his clothes truly are. And how big they look on him. Your eyebrows furrow at his state. Someone did a beating on this poor guy.

He whimpers in his sleep and without thinking, you do something stupid. Something incredibly stupid.

You reach your hand out towards him, to pet him or give him comfort, not really controlling your urges to get close. And that’s when you instantly regret it. His eyes snap open, and you yelp in pain as his claws swipe into your skin. Recoiling back, you immediately grasp your now bleeding arm, eyes glued to it. Three deep scratches litter your arm and blood starts to come to the surface.

Even if you’re the one that got scratched, you apologize.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, letting out a shuddering breath. “I should’ve given you your space. I’m sorry.”

“Leave me alone!” He hisses, shuffling far away from you. Growling, his entire body shakes as flashes upon flashes come back to him. Pupils reducing to slits and ears flattening against his head, he swipes at you again, 

You mentally slap yourself in the face. Of course he would scratch you. You invaded his personal space and reminded him of his abusers. You scared him. You back up, giving the hybrid one last glance, guilt racking every bone in your body for scaring the hybrid before you walk away. 

He doesn’t meet your eyes.

-

You rush home, your makeshift bandage from the napkins in your pocket soaked in blood. He got you deep. But it wasn’t his fault. It was yours.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you repeat to yourself. “How could you be so fucking stupid?”

Someone holds the door open for you as you slide past them, muttering a quick thanks.

“Hi, Mrs. Hags. Bye, Mrs. Hags,” you yell out to the landlady, rushing past people into the elevator of your complex.

“Bye, dearie,” she calls out. “Odd fellow, he is. Isn’t that right, Mr. Whiskers?”

Her cat only yawns in response and she immediately coos, getting right back to her knitting.

Stomping your foot impatiently, you give an awkward smile to the other tenants present in the elevator. They smile back, weird looks on their faces as they realize you’re holding your bleeding arm and you silently wish that the elevator would hurry the hell up. Sighing in relief as the elevators dings, you squeeze through the opening doors.

“Odd fellow,” One whispers out.

“Yeah, very odd,” Another whispers back.

Fumbling with your keys to your door, you curse in frustration as you drop them. Picking them up, you unlock your door after what seemed like forever. Finally, practically throwing open your door, you race to your bathroom, not caring as your door slams behind you. Dropping everything, you quickly get the first aid kit out.

“Fuck,” you hiss in pain as the alcohol seeps into your wound. Tears fall from your eyes from the burning sensation. “Ah, I’m melting, I’m melting…fuck, I’m dumb.”

After 10 minutes of grueling pain, you look at your newly bandaged arm. That was so stupid of you. How could you just invade his space like that? As you focus on your arm, dumb thoughts running through your head, your phone rings, snapping you out of your thoughts. Fishing it out of your pocket, you groan again when you realize it’s Yoongi. You still had time to get there, two hours really, so why was he calling you?

“Hello?” 

“Y/N, wanted to let you know that Joon got the stomach bug so the hangout is cancelled. Hobi and I are taking care of him.”

You can hear groans of pain in the background and Hoseok teasing. “Quit being a baby, Joonie. It’s a mere stomach bug.”

“Feels like I’m dying, Hobi,” he groans dramatically.

“Sounds like you have a handful, Yoongles,” you chuckle, putting up the alcohol and first aid kit.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Okay, thanks for telling me. I hope Joon gets better. I have some stuff to do so I have to go.”

“Yeah, right. Bye, Y/N-Namjoon, did you just hit me with a pillow?”

You can hear Namjoon yelling “Cuddles, now!” before Yoongi hangs up, eliciting a belly laugh out of you. How Yoongi and Hoseok put up with their boyfriend, you have no clue but more power to them. Staring back at your arm, you nod as you come up with a plan to win the hybrid over. Or at least apologize to him. You roll up your other sleeve, making your way over to your kitchen. You’ve got work to do.

-

It’s a couple of hours later when Jimin finally retreats from his hidey hole to see a brown paper bag with a note attached to it. An amazing smell wafts through the air that makes his stomach growl in hunger. He slowly crawls forward, tail swishing in curiosity, and snatches the note from the bag.

I’m sorry about today. Please enjoy your dinner.

P.S, I hear Maine Coons like this fish, assuming you are one. Enjoy :)

-Y/N (The guy who is really sorry about invading your personal space)

He hisses in disgust, shifting backward from the paper bag. The note flies from his grasp and lands in a puddle, immediately getting soaked from the dirty water. What if you poisoned it? Or laced it with something? Are you working for…her? Are you going to take him back? It’s not like he’s never had the wonderful pleasure of starving before. She would make sure of that. He can deal with it. He has done it plenty of times, one more can’t hurt…right?

He sits there, just glaring holes at the bag as rain drops hit him, trying so hard to ignore everything. The smell, the wonderful smell. He clenches his teeth so hard he’s afraid he’ll break them as another sharp pain shoots through his stomach, accompanied by a familiar grumbling. He tries to ignore it. He tries to focus on something else. Perhaps the way his bones are shivering from the rain will do? No, that makes it worse. Makes him want whatever is in the bag even more. It seems warm. Warm enough to make him warm. He wants it. He needs it. So much.

Ignore it.

Ignore it.

Ignore. It.

But, a guy can only take so much.

The smell surrounding him in mockery and the nagging pain finally makes Jimin grab the bag, fishing out the food and digging in, without sparing it a second glance. He’ll worry about the consequences later.

He almost moans from the taste he thought he had forgotten long ago. The fish is still warm, kept in a container that keeps the temperature insulated and whatever soup you got (or made, he can care less) goes perfectly with it.

In a matter of minutes, the fish is finished, and Jimin is gulping down the remaining soup. He pulls back, licking his lips and sighs in satisfaction. His stomach is warm from the soup. He’s not shivering that much from the rain anymore. He actually feels…cozy and it’s incredibly weird to him. Something foreign almost. He places the bowl back into the bag and crawls back into his hiding place. Curling up, yawning, he thinks of you and quietly mumbles a thank you before falling fast asleep.

-

It is a couple of days later when you return, bandage wrapped around your arm. Jimin growls in annoyance and begrudgingly relief. You seem..okay from his scratch.

Stupid human can’t follow a stupid task.

“I come bearing a peace offering,” you smile, holding out two bags.

Jimin’s eyes study the bags and then trail up your hand and to your arm. Annoyingly, in his opinion, guilt racks up. You notice his eyes glued to your arm and you wave your hand.

“Don’t worry about. My friend Jin said it would be fine.”

You lock eyes for a mere second before he’s immediately spitting back, “Like I care.”

He averts his eyes, letting out a loud huff. You sit down, slowly sliding one bag towards him. He views the action from the corner of his eyes. What are you doing? He turns his head just a bit to get a better view and his eyes widen.

“What are you doing?” he practically screeches as you pull out your lunch for the day.

“Taking my lunch break. What else?” you tease, waving the take out container in your hand. “Would you care to join me?”

“No.”

You shrug your shoulders and open your container. “Suit yourself, buddy.”

You begin eating and Jimin rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and looking away. Again, he repeats the same mantra from last time.

Ignore it.

His stomach rumbles and if you heard it, you make no move to comment and instead, continue to happily eat. 

“Wow, this chicken is to die for. Compliments to the chef,” you groan, giving a chef’s kiss. “Sure you don’t want any?”

He knows what your game is. You’re just trying to rile him up to eat the food so that you can do whatever you want with him. No, not this time. It won’t work. After you leave, he’ll throw the food away. He is sure of it.

“I am positive I don’t want your shitty food,” he snaps.

You wince, putting a hand to your chest. “Ouch buddy, that hurt.”

“Not your fucking buddy either,” he growls in annoyance.

“Just slash at my feelings, why don’t yah?”

“Gladly.”

That is his last and final word. You finish your lunch, taking one glance at the hybrid and leave. Jimin sits there and makes a move to throw out the food. He hesitantly reaches out but backs away. His eyebrows furrow at his dilemma. On one hand, should he waste food like that? That would be wrong of him. On another, did you poison the food this time? Can he really trust that you didn’t?

He lasts a total of five minutes before he’s digging into the food. Maybe, just maybe, you’re a decent human. Just maybe.

-

It takes you weeks to earn the still nameless hybrid’s trust. Even then, it was only a small amount. At least you could sit closer together and talk about random things. That’s why it surprises you when he meekly asks if he can go with you this time.

You widen your eyes at his request. “What?” 

“When you leave, can I go with you? Y/N, please?” His ears are flattened against his head and his tail is curled around his waist.

“I don’t even know your name-”

“Jimin. It’s um, Jimin.” He blurts out. He clears his throat, face flushed, eyes looking at every thing but you.

“Jimin…” you whisper, the name so foreign on your tongue. “Pretty name. What made you want to come with me?”

“I…” he didn’t expect that question. “I don’t know. You just seem…comforting, I guess? I don’t know, it was stupid. I’m sorry-”

You cut him off. “Shh, it’s not stupid. I’m glad that I seem comforting to you. My answer is yes, you can come home with me.”

His eyes widen and it’s the first time you have ever seen him smile that wide before. You hope you’ll see that smile even more in the future.

-

“And this is your room!” You gesture with your arm. “I had to quickly clean it since I honestly didn’t think you would come with me so forgive me if it’s still a bit dusty.” You walk in but he doesn’t follow. You turn around towards him, cocking your head. “Jimin?”

Jimin can’t say anything. This is all for him? But, he didn’t do anything to deserve it. He didn’t please you. He didn’t let you use him as a personal punching bag for your frustrations. This is a trick. It has to be. No one is this kind to a stranger, especially a hybrid. A hybrid who hurt you. For fuck’s sake, he scratched you. Yeah, he wanted to come home with you and yeah, he did say you were comforting but he expected that you would make him share the same room or something. He didn’t know what to expect. Just not this.

“Jimin?” Your soothing voice lures him out of his mess he calls his thoughts.

“I-I can’t accept this room, Y/N.”

You must’ve pulled a face or something because Jimin is immediately tense, ready to dash right back out on to the streets.

“Why?” is the only thing you ask.

“What?”

“Why can’t you accept the room?”

He wraps his arms around himself, his tail joining them. “Never had this before. This much kindness thrown at me. Expected to..pay you in return.”

“It’s yours now, Jimin. No payment needed.”

“Why are you so kind to me?”

His question throws you off-guard and it takes you a minute to answer. You brush the lint off of his comforter. “Because you deserve it. I can only assume you’ve been through hell and back. Why not live the rest of your life peacefully?”

“Thank you.”

With that, you smile and leave him be in his new room. A couple of hours later, he joins you for dinner. Whatever you made smells heavenly. Quietly sitting down, he watches as you put the pot on the table in between you two. The bowls are already set and you serve him first before serving yourself. He mutters a “thank you”.

“Dig in, Jimin. I hope you’ll like it. New recipe I’m trying out,” you hum, taking a spoon full of the stew and blowing on it. He waits until you take a bite first. You smile in satisfaction as the spicy fish stew came out perfectly. Just the right amount of spice. He should’ve known better, really. You never wanted to hurt him in the first place but old habits die hard and he finds himself gauging your reaction to the food. You didn’t trick him before, you didn’t poison him at all, so why should this meal be different? Maybe it’s because he’s on your turf now. He waits and when he deems the food is safe enough to eat since you aren’t spasming out of control from poison or getting sleepy from a sedative, he digs in.

Wow.

You’re an amazing cook.

It doesn’t take Jimin even 5 minutes to finish his bowl and your heart aches just a little at the mere thought of him being hungry ever again. 

“Must’ve been good?” You tease light-heartedly. Jimin nods, licking his lips clean. “Want a second bowl?”

His eyes widen at the aspect and you only take his bowl to fill it up again. Jimin wastes no time finishing the second one. He feels all warm, fuzzy even and he looks down at his stomach in confusion. This is a familiar feeling. A feeling he had on the day you two met. It takes him a good solid minute, weighing the pros and cons of asking you if you had made that soup. Would you think it was weird if he told you he had remembered the fuzzy feeling? Would you think it was weird if he told you that that was the only time he had ever felt close to home? Finally, he concludes that either way, he needs to know because he cannot stand the stupid curiosity that’s nagging him.

“I..I have a question,” Jimin mumbles.

You nod, gulping down the remaining water from your cup. “Shoot.”

He looks around the room as he hesitantly asks, “Did, did you..you know, that soup..”

“Soup? What soup?”

“You know, that soup.”

“I’m not following, Jiminie?”

His face heats up at your nickname for him but you don’t seem to realize that you even said it in the first place. He finally blurts out, “The one that you gave me the first time we met! Did you cook it?”

“Oh.” 

“I just,” he continues. “It was the only time I ever felt..I don’t know. Nevermind- it’s stupid.”

“Yes.”

“What?” Did you actually think it was-

“Yes, I made it. I wanted you to have a homemade meal. And I was apologizing to you so I thought it would be a bit more..special I guess.”

“Thank you..”

You both clean the dishes, wash up and head to bed. Jimin is finally alone to just process everything. This could be a home for him. He lays down, relishing in the softness of the bed. He wraps himself with the comforter. It smells so nice and it feels so warm and so..homey. Yawning, he doesn’t notice the smile creeping up on his face as he closes his eyes, sleep taking over.

-

A couple of weeks have passed and having Jimin around is such a delight. Not having to come home to an empty apartment feels so much better. He helps you clean, he accompanies you when you’re watching something on the tv. He lets you ramble about your day at the coffee shop. It takes Jimin a while to grow used to being here. And not everything is so pleasant. Countless of times, Jimin has woken up from night terrors, from flashbacks of that place. And this time isn’t any different.

It’s around 4 in the morning when Jimin wakes up, his eyes flying open from the nightmare. Gasping for air, he looks around. Everything seems so hazy, so dark. All he can remember is him screaming for you.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. You’re not going to give him away, right? Right?

You weren’t anywhere in sight and he could feel himself panicking. He rapidly jumps up, trying to find the light switch or the curtains or something to give light. To give him hope that you hadn’t sneakily sold him back to her. He trips over something and reaches out his hand, grasping a cloth and pulling it down with him. Moon light floods the room and he curls up, sobbing and shaking. His heart is racing and he silently begs for you to appear.

You jolt awake at the loud “thunk” coming from somewhere in your apartment. You jump up, grabbing your baseball bat and tip toe out of your room. Hearing whimpers from Jimin’s room, you drop the bat and rush in.

“Jimin, oh my god, are you okay?” you ask alarmed, freeing him. He’s shaking all over, eyes closed and arms wrapped around himself.

“Please tell me I’m not there again. I don’t wanna go back. Please, please please..” He repeatedly mumbles. “I’m a good boy. I’ll be a better boy, I promise. Please, just don’t take me there.”

Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him, rocking him back and forth. “I promise on everything holy that I will never leave you. I will never let you go back there, Jimin.”

He sobs into your shoulder, gripping tightly at your t-shirt. His tail wraps around you, and you stroke his head.

“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re here, you’re home. It’s okay, you’re safe. I promise,” you whisper. After a long time, Jimin grounds himself and he pulls back to see you, worry filling your eyes and tears at the brim of them.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, diving right back into your arms. You only rub his back in soothing motions.

That was the first night ever that he had asked you to stay in his room.

-

The next morning while you’re making a delicious breakfast for the both of you, he stalks into the kitchen. You hum a little at his presence, asking him if he is okay. He hums in agreement and stares at you. You, already used to him just staring at you, studying your movements, continue cooking. He walks up behind you, ears pinned back, arms opening up.

He back hugs you.

You’re startled for a moment and it makes him hesitate to tighten his grip but when you don’t move away, just slightly humming as you continue to cook, he smiles, ever so slightly, tautening his hold.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he murmurs into your back, so quietly that you have a hard time hearing him. But you hear him. He buries his head into your back, inhaling your comforting scent. “Thank you.”

That’s when you realize that the future for the both of you would be much brighter from here on.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Two

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Warning(s): explicit language, sexual situations, violence, drug abuse, domestic abuse

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Vivian strikes again. 

My leg shakes with each tap of my foot as I impatiently wait for her to come through that door. I've been waiting for nearly forty-five minutes. 

Maybe I scared her off with pitching a fit over her not telling me about her miscarriages. But I had a good reason to be upset. Addict or not, I fucking deserved to know what the hell was going on.

"Where's your wife?" Amber asks me, glancing at her watch. 

"Hiding more kids from me, probably." I mumble and she raises her brows, staring at me for a moment. 

"While we wait for her, can you do me a favor?" She asks and I shrug. "Take a few minutes to try to imagine what having kids during the last four years would have been like with your drug addiction. Because you would still have a drug addiction--babies wouldn't have changed that." She points out. "Honestly," she adds. "Close your eyes, and take some breaths, and just use your imagination as to what having children during these last few years would have done to you, and to your wife.

I take a breath and close my eyes, deciding it probably couldn't hurt to try to wrap my head around being a dad right now, especially with as many as she lost...

1984

...I feel Viv's weight shift from me, her eyes closed, a little hum comes from her when she turns her back to me but still keeps close, her feet tangled with mine, her lions mane of hair still spread out over my pillow as well as hers. Despite being half asleep, myself, I tighten my arms hold just under her ribs and pull her to me before my hand slides over her five-month pregnant stomach. 

I lull back to sleep, before I'm woken up merely minutes later by the sound of the baby crying and Vivian pulling herself away from me, putting her robe on to cover her naked body. 

She sighs under her breath, mumbling something, and I sit up. 

"I can go--"

"--No, I got it." She says, dismissively.

"Vivian, are you still pissed at me?" I ask. 

"You ditched me on our anniversary and stayed out all night smoking smack and partying with your moron friends."

"I offered for you to come out with us." I remind her.

"I'm pregnant and we have a daughter here, Nikki. One of us needs to remember that." She adds before stomping out. 

I roll my jaw and feel a spiteful twinge in my mind. 

Perhaps spiteful, perhaps wanting to chase away the guilt of ditching her last night…

I end up in the bathroom, chasing the dragon, curled under my high while hearing Vivian softly sing hymnals to the six-month old…

I assume she knows exactly where I'm at once she's done, because I hear her walk back to our bedroom and, when she usually comes to find me so she's not by herself, she doesn't come looking for me. 

1986

"...No, you idiot, not that…" I say to myself, rubbing my forehead, scribbling out the line of lyrics I've been fighting to get out. 

The door of mine and Viv's bedroom is soon bursting at the hinges, allowing me to fully hear Pierce crying while Frannie and Johnny come rushing into the room, squealing. 

"Hey, hey, hey!" I stop them before they can crawl under the bed. "What's goin' on?" I ask them, slowly hiding the Jack bottle in my bass case.

I spent last night freebasing and I'm still trying to coax myself down. 

Frannie looks at me with sharp green eyes, her brown hair knotty looking from wallowing on the living room carpet earlier...Johnny, brown eyes and red hair, just puts his attention on the pissed off Vivian that's stalking her way in here with the baby. 

"Um," Frannie starts, trying to think up her excuse. 

"Francesca and Johnathan tried to tote Pierce off again." Vivian states, eyeing the two toddlers with daggers, and they slowly sink down to try to use me as a human shield. 

"He's a new baby, Viv, they don't mean any harm. They just--"

"--Okay, well maybe if you put the bass down and actually come in here and help me out, you can supervise them while they 'hold' him, since I'm trying to start on dinner." She states. 

I glance at the kids and then at her…

"Or you can stare at me like an idiot, too." She mumbles, going to shut the door as she says, "You have no issue knocking me up but won't help me with them once they're out."

 I roll my jaw and grab my bottle of Jack, putting my bass back. 

What the fuck? 

If it wasn't for me writing songs, the band wouldn't have new material, which would mean no new album, which would mean no money--not enough to support her and three fuckings kids, anyway, so she should be thanking me for still wanting to provide for my fucking family. Because anybody else with three kids in two years would be putting a bullet through their skull. 

"C'mon, guys," I say to Frannie and Johnny, and they follow me out, Frannie reaching up to grab my hand. 

I put old cartoons on the TV while Viv puts Pierce down to sleep once he's drifted off. 

On her way out of the nursery, I'm stopping her in the hallway, my hand grasping her arm in a tight hold, roughly tugging her into the guest bathroom, cracking the door. 

I've got her against the counter, hand around her throat, gasping little breaths pushing past her lips for a moment as I say, "if you ever talk to me like that in front of my fucking kids again, I'll give you plenty to bitch about." I promise her, lowly, and she just looks up at me and nods. 

"Now turn around." I say next and she glances at the door. 

"Nikki, we don't have tim--"

"--They're watching TV. Turn around." I repeat and she grins a little, licking her lips and turns to face the mirror. 

I'm unzipping my pants, yanking her shorts down and pushing her panties to the side before grabbing a fist full of her hair and sliding it in, tilting my head back and grinning as she makes little whimpers in an attempt to keep from being loud. 

We've mastered the art of 'a good time in a short time,' and once we've both had our release, I'm zipping my pants back up, and she's still bent over the sink, hands white knuckling the edge of the counter, hair in her face, bite marks on her shoulders, cum down her shaking legs, trying to catch her breath.

I kiss the place between her shoulder blades, the back of her neck, her hair, my hand getting her hair from her face to look at her in the mirror.

She's looking at me with a little smile, right before, "I'm pregnant again," comes out and shatters my post-orgasm buzz. 

My knuckles sting as blood rolls down my fist, glass falling onto the counter, sink, and floor, when I drive my fist past her and into the mirror. 

She just hangs her head and I'm getting out, feeling the walls of the bathroom caving in on me. 

"Daddy, what's wrong?" Frannie asks as I grab my keys and my jacket. 

"Nothing, Frannie. Daddy's going out, alright?" I tell her. "When mommy gets in here give her a big hug." I add, seeing Johnny's too enthralled with Charlie Brown to notice I'm even leaving. 

I kiss her head and I'm out the door before Vivian gets out of the bathroom. 

I swear the only thing keeping us together is the fact that when divorce is an unspoken thought for either of us, she gets pregnant. 

I'm twenty-seven years old and I have a two year old, a one year old, a two month old, and now she's fucking knocked up again?!

How the hell is that even possible? Don't chicks need like six months for their bodies to reset after popping kids out or something? Jesus I married a PEZ dispenser with a never ending supply of eggs. 

By the time I get to where I'm going, I already regret it. 

Incense, crack fumes and perfume suffocate me as soon as she opens the door in her bra and panties. 

Not necessarily in a sexy way--more so in a higher than a kite and disheveled type of way. 

Which is perfectly fine with me because I don't need 'sexy' right now. I just need to get outta my head. 

Despite that, though, clothes come off, we end up on the living room floor, and instead of smoking a cigarette once we're finished, we opt for more erasure. 

"She's pregnant again." I confess to Tansy  out of nowhere after breathing out some smoke, my mind getting pushed aside, the crawling of my skin starting to settle. 

Blue eyes look at me as I hand it over before her greedy hands snatch it. 

"What?" She asks me. 

"Vivian's pregnant." I repeat. 

"I am, too." She says it so seriously that I look at her for a second, before seeing the very corner of her lips tug for a millisecond. 

"You're bullshitting me?" 

"I'm bullshitting you." She says, giggling, and 

I start ranting about it, my words getting more and more jumbled and lost the more hits of the pipe I take, until I'm not even worried about Vivian due to the paranoia that ensues. 

I get home at 5:00a.m….the day after the next. How low do I have to be to continuously go her best friend and my own moronic self pity? I don't know. 

I shut the door to the house and put my shit down, nearly tripping when I try to take my boots off. 

I'm on Halcions and Jack, and I think they're starting to kick in because I'm fucking exhausted. 

I glance at the living room scattered with toys and rub my face. 

I get it: "Mötley Crüe, don't give a fuck, fuck precautions, fuck all of it," but come on, man.

 How the hell could you be so fucking reckless?

I walk into our room, the lamp on Viv's night side table on while she's got one long leg out of the covers, laying on her stomach, arms under her pillow, the covers falling just enough to cover the tops of her thighs and her ass, her back and the side of her chest peeking out, exposed. 

She looks fucking beautiful.

Oh, yeah, that's how the hell I could be so reckless. 

I go rinse off in the shower for a second to try to wash away Tans and the drugs...maybe even guilt….

When I'm done, I peek out of the bathroom to see that she's still asleep, and I turn off her lamp and crawl into bed, closing my eyes for a moment. 

I feel her move closer to me before her lips are pressing to my cheek, hands running over my chest gently before she lays down, throws her leg over my stomach, and rests her cheek on my chest. 

"Are you still mad at me?" She questions softly, and I let out a breath.

"I'm mad at myself, Viv." I mumble. 

"Oh." She replies quietly. "I would get on birth control but it wouldn't react well with my Nardil."

"You mean the Nardil you aren't taking anyway?" 

She's silent. 

"Honestly at a point where I don't even want to have sex anymore because you're gonna end up getting pregnant." I add, gruffly. 

"Oh, come on, Nikki." She scoffs, not believing me. 

"I'm serious, Vivian. I'm tired of being a fucking baby mill." 

"Oh you're the baby mill? You just get your rocks off and I'm the one carrying the thing for nine months but you're the victim here?" 

She sits up and glares at me. 

"Yes! I am!" I argue. "You have this weird thing with cum that I've always thought was hot but now I'm starting to realize you're just trying to boulder me down." 

"Nikki, you've made it very clear that marriage and babies aren't bouldering you down. You still go out and party and do your drugs and your day drinking--you were just gone for over a day...so I don't want to hear, 'you're bouldering me down,' because I'm not. If you wanna leave, then leave." She snaps.

I roll my eyes and she goes back to her side of the bed and turns away from me, before she snatches all the covers away from me. 

I'm too tired for it so I just pass out. 

1987 

"Nikki!" Doc is banging away at my door, making me snarl to myself before capping my needle and hiding it under my pillow. 

"What?!" I bark out, going to the door. 

I swing it open, naked, aside from stained underwear, to see Vivian and my whole litter of kids.

"S-Surpise!" Viv tries to keep her tone light and cheery for the five kids around her, our brand new girls in her arms.  

I don't know how to react except to shut the door in their faces and angrily get my shit together. 

I'm out of the shower and dressed in the next hour, taking the smallest hit from the needle I hid, just as a maintenance dose, before I'm heading to Doc's room--where I'm assuming he took them when they realized I wasn't coming back out. 

I knock on the door and Viv opens it, looking up at me. 

"Suprise!" I mimic how she greeted me earlier, and she scowls at me and goes to slam the door in my face, but I'm stopping it with my hand and shoving it open. 

"Daddy!" Frannie, Johnny, and Pierce come running to me and I'm getting down and letting them attack me, wrapping my arms around them. Pierce is nearly two, now, and he's nearly as tall as Frannie. 

Dannie is walking cautiously to me, smiling at me and I meet him halfway and pick him up, kissing his cheek as I go over to the little babies Doc's supervising, one a replica of me, the other of Viv…

I lean down and kiss both of them, making them smile and kick their feet, excitedly. 

I wasn't there with them when they were born. 

I go over to Vivian, who's got her arms crossed, her jaw clenched.  

"Does Daddy get a kiss from Mommy, too?" I ask. 

"Daddy doesn't have to fuss at mommy for having more babies anytime soon because daddy isn't gonna get to be in the same bed as mommy for a long time." She replies. 

"Mommy seems to forget that the last three babies weren't even made in a bed." I reply. 

"Do you guys wanna few minutes alone? I can get Fred, Emi and Donna down here to help me." Doc offers and I look at him. 

"That's out of character and nice of you." I state suspiciously. 

"Despite you being an asshole, your kids aren't." He shrugs and I roll my eyes. 

I kiss all of them bye for a couple hours, and put Dannie down before tugging at Viv's hand once Fred and the girls get here...I see Donna and feel guilty…one of the chicks I cheated on my wife with is taking care of our kids…

When we get to a new room--mines so out of wack I don't want Viv to pass out--we do what we do best and in the aftermath, small talk in between breaks of making out, Vivian drops the ball. 

"I know you've been seeing her." She tells me out of nowhere when my lips press to her neck, quietly. 

My body tenses up. 

"What?" I sit up and she does, too. 

"There's no need to be shocked that I found out--we both know you wanted me to find out. Why the hell else would you leave letters you two write back and forth with each other, out in our closet where you know I'd find them?"

I just look at her. 

"You and Tansy, Nikki." She states, tears in her eyes. "Why the hell have you done this to me, Nikki? She's my best friend?" 

Is she serious? 

I get out of bed and pull my pants on, ignoring her. 

"I'm not shocked, you know, I always knew you'd be a deadbeat husband and a deadbeat dad, just like your father." 

I start clapping slowly, really appreciating her performance.

"Bravo, Vivian, really, you should get a fucking award for those tears." I state, fed up. "It's gotta be theatrics because what sense would it make for you to be genuinely upset I've been hooking up with Tansy, when you and Robbin have been seeing each other for two fucking years, now?!" 

Her eyes widen, she looks like a deer in headlights...which just confirms it all the more to me. 

"How fucked up do you have to be to cheat on your husband with his fucking brother, while pregnant with his fucking kid?" I ask and she takes heavy breaths, obviously trying to get her temper under control. "Not to mention that I'm starting to question if Dannie is even mine being as he looks nothing like me." 

She's slapping the piss out of me, tears streaming down her face. 

I rub at the stinging hot skin of my cheek and roll my jaw, staring at her a few seconds, before shoving her back to the bed, grabbing her shoulders, getting in her face while shouting, "you stupid fucking bitch, I fucking hate, you ruined my fucking life!" 

She's sobbing now, her head turned, mascara staining her cheeks as I push myself off of her and trudge to the door. 

"Cheating on me for two goddamn years, you fucking whore, who the hell do you think you are?! I can have kids with anybody, I can have anybody I want, but I fucking chose you and this is how you repay me?! Fuck you! There's a million fucking yous out there!" I throw a bottle at her and it misses by a couple inches and she sits up, trying to stand up as I open the door. 

"I'm getting my fucking kids away from you, you fucking crazy cunt!" I call and she's rushing out, wearing my t-shirt to cover herself up, grabbing my hand and yanking me to a halt before I can start to Doc's room. 

"You're not touching my kids, Nikki, I swear to God I'll fucking kill you, don't touch my fucking kids! You're fucking stoned!" She threatens me and I turn. 

"Oh, you'll kill me?!" I bow up at her and she punches me, her ring cutting my cheek, before she's hitting me again. 

She goes for a third time but I block her and shove her down, kicking her as hard as I can in the ribs, knocking the breath out of her. 

"Don't fucking touch me, you fucking slut." I smear the blood from my cheek, banging on Doc's door as she crawls a few feet before managing to pull herself up, resting against the wall, coming towards me. 

The door opens and I see Emi with Pierce in her arms. 

I don't say a word to her, I just grab him and smile at him, bouncing him a little, as I say, "Frannie, John, c'mon!" 

Of course they come, not realizing what's happening. 

Until Vivian's trying to pry Pierce from my hands. 

"Let go of my baby!" She screams at me, trying to bat me away from him while he starts whining. 

She hits me with her closed fist in my ear and I lose it, punching her so hard she hits the ground, Frannie and John immediately start crying upon seeing their mother bloody and dismayed.

The door opens more to reveal Doc as Emi looks at me, horrified, pulling John and Frannie back inside before Doc's snatching Pierce from me. 

"What the hell is going on?!" Doc shouts as guests peek their heads out of their doors. 

It's as if my demons give me the reins back and split, leaving me to look down at my beat up wife, crying, hearing my traumatized kids crying out behind the door. 

I just stumble back, my back hitting the wall before I'm sliding down it to the floor, staring off as Doc continues to yell at me...

...I blink, being pulled back to reality, staring down at the floor of Amber's office.

I'm not sure if we had kids by then, if Viv would have stayed or left. I'm not sure why I imagined I would've been with Tansy and not Vanity, why she would have had an affair with Robbin and not Duff...maybe I knew, subconsciously, that us having children at that time would have changed the way everything happened between us.

"I guess it was for the best." I reply to her, finally, looking at her. 

"Everything happens for a reason." She assures me. "There is a reason she didn't have any babies in the past four years." 

"Okay, wise one, is there any reason she isn't here today?" 

VIVIAN

"...Mom, and my brother Jon, my sister Carol, my brother Mark, my brother Bruce, my sister Joan, my other sister Claudia, and that's Matt--you know Matt," he glances at me and I nod, looking at the picture of the family, "And then there's me." He points to a toddler and I grin, looking at him. "My dad didn't wanna be in the picture, which I'm glad he wasn't because I would've cut him out if it, anyway when he left, so…" he shrugs, looking at it another moment. "Alright, let me show you to your room." He wiggles his brows and I giggle as he picks up my suitcase and leads me back down a hallway. 

"This is Joan's old room, obviously been redecorated because it's not covered in ABBA and Cher ." He mumbles. 

"I heard that!" Joan says from the living room. 

"No ya didn't!" He replies, smiling at me, putting my suitcase on the bed. "Everybody's coming over for dinner tonight so you have time to take a nap, get comfortable, whatever." He shrugs and I nod. 

"Okay." I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. 

"I'm gonna go help my mom and Joan start cooking." He adds. 

"I can hel--"

"--You didn't sleep at all on the way up here, Viv."

"Because I wasn't tired." I lie and he looks at me. 

"Take a nap." He tells me, moving the suitcase off of my bed. 

"Fine." I roll my eyes. 

"Love you." He leaves me, shutting the door and I get on the bed, getting comfortable, and wondering what Nikki's doing right now...he's probably shitting a brick. 

After an hour, the door is opening and Duff's squeezing my fuzzy sock covered feet, making me laughs and yank my legs away from him. 

I haven't slept, but I've rested enough that I don't feel as sluggish. 

"You stink." I wrinkle my nose when he lays beside me. 

"Onions." He replies. "Joan kicked me out for chasing her around with the raw chicken." He adds. 

"And now raw chicken juice is on my feet?" I ask. 

"No, I washed my hands." He assures me. 

"Okay." I chuckle, rubbing my lips together. 

"Who all's coming to dinner?" I ask, next. "Jon, Bruce, Claudia, and my buddy Andy." He informs me. "Matt's coming up to go out for breakfast with me, you, Andy, and Joan tomorrow morning, and later this week we're gonna have a barbecue and you'll get to meet everybody, including my nieces and nephews." He adds and I raise my brows. 

"That's a lot of people." I reply, raising my brows.

"Very big family." He agrees. 

"It's weird." I say next and he furrows his brows. "Not like that, just...I don't know I'm used to being the only child, no cousins, no aunts or uncles--well, aside from aunt Lily--Nikki's not real close to his family, so we just...we're not really big on family." I shrug. "Well, dad is, he's always wanted more kids and a big family, I think, but my mom didn't so he didn't press her about it since she was ultimately the one who'd be carrying them." I add. 

"Do you want anymore kids?" He asks me and I let out a breath. 

"I'm not sure…" I trail off. "...I'd like to, but I don't know. I haven't thought about it, much." I lie and he nods. 

"Do you want anymore kids?" I ask him. 

"I do at some point, I don't think Mandy wants to, though. She says being a step-mom at the age of twenty-five is enough." He tells me. 

"Maybe she'll change her mind." I say. 

"She didn't want any kids when we first dated, so I think the only reason she's even making leeway for a stepchild is because she loves me." 

"It says a lot about her if she's willing to do that, though. A lot of women would've left." 

"Yeah, she's cooler about it than I thought she'd be." He agrees. "What did Nikki do when you first told him?" 

"He cried." I admit. "Like, a lot." 

"That's understandable." He says lowly. 

"Yeah, it is." I nod. "He's okay with it, now, though. He's not mad at either of us. I think he's more upset with himself about the whole thing." 

It's quiet for a few minutes before I get up enough courage to ask him, "are you happy?" 

"What do you mean?"

"Like...you know...our break up, and then you and Mandy are engaged now and I'm pregnant…"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, no, I'm great, Viv." He assures me, sounding genuine. "I don't know, things are a mess and crazy right now but I feel like it's falling into place at the same time, you know?"

I nod, smiling softly…

…I bought it for that moment.

I realized he was lying to himself the next morning at breakfast when he told the waitress to bring him a screwdriver--a triple--and, "just keep 'em coming."

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 4

<- Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 ->

Summary: Your not-boyfriend is dead and you might just do something crazy like, I dunno, murder a serial killer. 

2,815 words

Red. 

All you could see was red. It boiled in your veins, it choked your thoughts, and gripped your throat with its skeletal fingers as you tried to sleep at night. It made your hands shake. Your world was swallowed whole by the pigment of blood and you could not escape.

It shouldn’t have been possible to hurt this much. He wasn’t supposed to mean that much to you.

But he did.

He did and you knew it, but admitting it would have given him too much power. You still weren’t even sure why he was stuck so deeply in your heart. He was rude, spoiled, and an idiot, somehow both over- and under-confident at the same time, always grating on the wrong people’s nerves. But beneath all the posturing, there was something soft you wanted to protect at all costs—something you had barely glimpsed and could only infer its shape by the outline of the walls he built around it.

You could never get him out of your head, no matter the time of day or how you distracted yourself. His pull only quieted when you were in the same room, and now that he was gone, he was cannon fire booming ceaselessly through every chamber of your memory. A deafening reverberation of regret. At the end of each day you just wanted to find yourself back in his arms again. He must have known how you felt. But you never told him. You never said it out loud.

He was never supposed to be this important to you. It was just sex.

It shouldn’t hurt this much.

You shouldn’t have been this angry.

For a week or two, you hid it well. The last thing Chilton said to you was don’t get involved. He wanted you to survive, and you wanted honor his last wishes and not die. But the red followed and you could not shake it.

You were the only one mourning for him; there didn't even seem to be a funeral. It was as if he just disappeared and nobody cared. Except you. The world moved on, and everything went back to normal. Nobody faced any consequences for what they did to him.

Chilton had gone to Will for help, and Will called Crawford to arrest him. Crawford was stupid enough to believe another of Hannibal’s frame jobs, stupid enough to let Miriam Lass grab the gun from his holster and fire. Your blood boiled red every time you saw them, and you struggled to contain your fury. But there was only one man who was really to blame. The Chesapeake Ripper. The one who had manipulated the whole situation to make Dr. Chilton take the fall for his crimes and then be swept six feet under.

Hannibal Lecter was still assisting on cases with Jack Crawford, and every time you saw him free, your blood boiled hotter, and hotter, until you came to the only resolution that allowed you to breathe: you were going to kill him.

You should have gone to Chilton’s house the moment you knew he was in trouble, stayed by his side, and fought. You were a coward. You didn’t protect the man you… the man you were sleeping with. The man you promised to protect.

Chilton was dead, and you knew who was responsible. Nobody was doing a thing about it, but you could—like you should have done in the first place.

Hannibal wouldn’t see it coming if you simply walked into his office with a gun and shot him point-blank in the face. You would go to jail, but the problem would be solved. Just like that.

It was smart for anyone involved with FBI investigations, even as a consultant, to own a gun, and so you did, though you’d never used it. You got it out of its safe, and looked at it. It was terrifyingly heavy in your hand. Then you put it back and locked it. Tomorrow.

The plan fermented for what felt like months of sleepless nights, ruminating on just how you would do it, and building up your resolve. Every time you thought, today! you found a reason to put it off. You took the gun out and cleaned it, then put it back. You avoided Hannibal—avoided everyone—because the murderous look in your eyes would be too clear, and you didn’t know who to trust—even Will Graham, who should have been your ally in revenge, seemed to be cozying up to Lecter in a creepy way.

You took the gun out.

It was Valentine’s Day. Romantic movies marathoned mockingly on your TV set, and red hearts and roses flooded the stores and streets as couples held hands in the snow.

Today.

This time you meant it. This time you wouldn’t be a coward.

What were you doing?

Hannibal’s office loomed above you, and you circled the block again. It was suddenly too real. You couldn't kill a person! You didn't want to die! What if you were wrong? What if Will was wrong and you were gullible to believe him and you would be killing an innocent man? No. You’re going to be strong. You can do it.

You took a resolute step up the short stone staircase to the entrance landing. The office was a brick Victorian building in the historic district, next to an old stone cathedral, which gave the whole location a flare of drama. You stepped into the foyer, the ancient wood floors creaking beneath you. You wouldn’t be able to sneak up on anyone in this place, but that wasn’t the plan. He would think you were just here to talk to him.

“Don’t.” The man’s voice so close in your ear made you jump with a startled yelp.

“You’re not a killer,” he whispered. “Even now with that gun in your pocket, you’re undecided. But Hannibal won’t be.”

“Will.”

Emergency lights flashed Danger! Danger! in your head, even as you breathed a sigh of relief that it was him.

“I thought you wanted to stay away from Hannibal Lecter. You were supposed to be the smart one,” he chuckled morbidly. “Though I understand your impulse,” he said, reassuring you that he was here as your friend, not the Ripper’s date. “He killed your lover. Hannibal made it happen as surely as he pulled the trigger himself.”

You stiffened and blushed, but what was the point in stammering out denials? Of course Will would know. Will knew everything. That beautiful brain of his.

“Was it that obvious?” you groaned.

“I don’t think Crawford knows.”

Your lower jaw trembled, teeth chattering together as your knees suddenly went weak. You were finished. You took your hand off the gun and rubbed your eyes with your sleeve to hide the redness. “If you know, then Hannibal must know too,” you grit your teeth to keep your voice steady. “I thought I could just... get the drop on him…”

“I’m going to catch him,” Will stated as a fact.

“Are you?”

He didn’t answer. Something had changed in Will. Part of him was still that innocent puppy who had been your friend, who had made you jealous of his unwavering gaze for Alana, and you hoped that part would win in the end.

“Is Hannibal going to kill me?”

“Don’t give him a reason to,” Will warned with a sort of shrug that was more in his face than his shoulders. He would have told you if you were in immediate danger. You had trusted him when no one else would, and that still bought you some favor, whatever dark place he was in. If he told you trying to kill Hannibal now would only lead to your death, you had to believe him.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“What does anyone do? Grieve? Keep going? I promise I will catch him. Don’t do anything rash to get in the way.” With that, he brushed you off and went up to Hannibal’s office for therapy.

A shiver ran up your spine at whatever “therapy” between those two entailed. You turned, and didn’t stop walking until you were home.

It was a miracle Hannibal didn’t kill you. In hindsight, he was probably just as aware of your relationship as Will Graham, and predicted your half-baked vengeance plan from the start. You were spared because he preferred to watch you suffer in impotent rage.

  *****

Crawford pulled you aside, arms crossed, shrugging into the raised lapel of his wool coat against the cold Maryland breeze.

“You need to calm down.”

“I can’t.” Everything was red. “You’re not doing anything about Hannibal, and he murdered Beverly! He murdered… he…”

Crawford could be dense at times, but he was still an FBI agent. The clandestine relationship you had with Frederick Chilton had not, in fact, escaped his notice—at least it became painfully clear when Chilton was shot in the face, and you melted down and became as obsessed with Hannibal Lecter as Will. The people Crawford worked with made his job so fun, sometimes. So fun. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Come with me.”

You climbed into Crawford’s car, and were surprised when he kept driving for two hours. It was starting to feel like a kidnapping. In a different city, he pulled up in front of an extravagantly baroque beachfront hotel and medical spa. It reminded you of those addiction treatment resorts where rich people go when they spend too much of their yacht money on cocaine.

“It is critical to the investigation that this remain secret, but hopefully seeing this will help you get your head back on straight. I need you thinking.”

A glass elevator brought you up to a suite on the 23rd floor. Jack knocked three times on the door, then crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall. “I’ll wait outside,” he said.

Paranoid bolts and locks slid and clicked open one by one, and the door tentatively opened a crack at a time, until a familiar eye and fluffy brown hair neatly styled back appeared in the opening. It took a moment for your brain to believe what your eyes were seeing, but there was no mistake.

Your heart cracked open and rainbows spilled out.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!” Chilton squealed as you launched yourself into his arms, nearly knocking him off his feet, heedless of the fact that he was probably still injured. His cane went clattering across the hardwood floor.

“You’re alive,” you said. “You’re alive!”

“I am.” Anything sarcastic or clever he meant to say was lost to the smile tugging on his lips, and his hands finding their way around your back, pressing your body against his. An ache he had mistaken for the background misery of his life was soothed, filled like an empty crater.

He was surprised how genuinely happy he was to see you again.

“You’re alive.”

“You’re alive” was all you could manage to repeat like a poorly-programmed robot as you stared at his face, his suit, his posture—it was really him?—as you patted the sides of his face up and down making sure he was corporeal. It was impossible! There was a red scar where the bullet had entered his left cheek, but otherwise he was perfectly fine. You glanced around the room—a spacious luxury suite with leather furniture, an enormous bed, and a panoramic view of the skyline and ocean as purple dusk settled across it. He was the only person you knew who would stay in a place as ostentatious as this.

He was alive all right.

“But you were...”

“You always said my face was ‘punchable.’ Apparently it is also shootable,” he said dryly.

A bark of laughter sprang from your throat. You snaked your hands around the back of his head and purred, “I can think of better things to do with your face...”

Your lips met his in a clash of pent up longing. You wanted to kiss him until the pain of separation was gone forever, until you filled yourself up with so much of him that you would never miss him again. He gasped into your mouth, fingers curling up the back of your neck, through your hair, guiding you to the bed.

Falling on top of him, you pushed him down onto the mattress, lips never leaving the salt of his skin. He smelled like spicy cologne, but his antiseptic hospital smell had worn off. His hands were already busy trying to find their way underneath the hem of your shirt.

“Wait a minute—you let me think you were dead, asshole!”

  *****

He explained the situation while you sat on the large hotel bed in disbelief. Jack Crawford was not ignoring Hannibal Lecter. There was a plan to catch him, but it was dangerous, and worked better if Lecter believed his plan for Chilton to take the blame for the Ripper murders and die was successful.

Chilton was also keen to remain “dead” until Lecter was apprehended, as there was a distinct possibility he might otherwise return to finish the job.

You could understand the need for secrecy, but the fact that you were left out of the plan? You shook your head, clearing away thoughts of rejection. Chilton had been in a coma for a long time, so the initial decision not to inform you wasn’t his, and it wasn’t as though you would have had visitation privileges in the hospital. You weren’t a relative or spouse. You were just his fuck buddy.

It felt as though there was yet another reason he waited until now to let you see him, but you couldn’t place it.

“To be honest,” he added, with a sheepish side-glance, “I didn’t think you would take it so hard.”

  *****

When Jack rapped on the door to signal that it was time to go back home, Frederick lingered with you by the doorway. With a hand on your cheek, his eyes locked on yours, and he instructed gently and firmly, “Do not let Hannibal Lecter kill you.”

“I’ll try.” You cupped his hand under yours, and turned into it, kissing his palm. There was something else important, before you left, “Hey, one more thing. I…” The last time we saw each other, I was pretending that I didn’t care as much as I do. I never got to tell you that I love you, you thought. But you could never tell him that. You weren’t even sure if you were dating. “I missed you.”

You wrapped your arms around him and drew him into a hug. He held you so dearly, leaning his head into the crook of your neck and just breathing.

“Frederick…”

The moment that name tumbled so casually out of your lips, a sigh into his collar, the floor dropped from beneath him and he was falling from a moving airplane toward something deadly or wonderful, or perhaps both.

When your relationship had been strictly professional (and adversarial) you called him by his last name, and the habit hadn’t changed. It was what you were accustomed to calling him.

He never liked being called by his first name, in fact. He preferred Doctor Chilton. He had worked hard to earn that title and the respect it came with. “Frederick” was weak, and the only people who used it did so to demonstrate their lack of deference.

But when you said it, its meaning changed.

His feet couldn't find purchase on solid ground, so he held on to you harder, like his life depended on it.

He looked frightened, reluctant to let you go as you pulled back from the hug. If things went wrong you could end up in Lecter’s refrigerator, so you understood why. “Hey, you know, maybe it would be safer if I stayed here… with you,” you offered meekly.

The well-dressed man stepped back suddenly, stiffening. “You-you can’t stay here—there, there are rules: suites are for patients only,” he backed away and paced nervously as he explained. Then he turned on his heel just as quickly back to you, “But maybe you shouldn’t go back until this over. I can pay for a room at a different hotel, without the fussy restrictions…”

“No, no, never mind,” you hushed him with a tense not-laugh. It was unclear why he was so panicked about you staying, but he was recently shot in the face, so you would give him as much space as he needed.

“It was a silly idea, anyway. I have work. Thank you for the thought.” You pulled him into a goodbye kiss, and went for the door. Before turning the handle, however, you turned around one last time, a broad grin across your face, and practically tackled him into an embrace.

He could tell by your sappy expression what you were about to blurt out.

“Do not say it...”

“You’re alive!” you cheered, and the world felt alive again, too.

[jaeminscoffee]

NCT prompt list 🍒

Send in a number and a member,

Also specify the genre.

What i write - Fluff, Angst, Crack, Smut [with an open ending]

What i don’t write - Abuse, Pleasure in pain unless that’s a kink, we’re all hoes, face it.

Whom i write for- NCT, all 21 members, if this prompt succeeds, i might start writing for other groups too :D

All dialogues can be applied to any genre that you request!

Numbers can repeat, it doesn’t matter :)

While requesting for smut, please make sure to specify what type of smut you want it to be, if there’s any kink that needs to be involved and if you have a plot in mind to go with the smut, don’t hesitate to send that in either!

Here are the prompts!

1. “Get some sleep, we can talk about it tomorrow.”

2. “Oh i’m so going to get you back”

3.” Jesus can you quit it?”

4.”I kind of, sort of, maybe feel like i might ___”

5.”Wait is that my ___?”

6.”Want to go get some fries?”

7. “___ has accepted your follow request!”

8. “Can you shut the fuck up, it’s 3 am”

9. “Should i be concerned?

10.”Does it ever stop hurting?”

11.” Hey, it’s rude to laugh at someone!”

12.” I will fist fight you if i have to”

13.” I will...uh make sure to enjoy the meal..? it looks um..appetizing”

14.” Can you please come get me?”

15.”You don’t have to be alone, you never were.”

16.”Of all places, you chose chuck-e-cheese to confess?”

17.”Crying doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human”

18.”Isn’t this, like illegal?” “Probably, who cares?”

19.”And you’re running away..once again”

20.” Friends is so far off from what you really are to me, Y/n”

21.”Criticism doesn’t always equal to jealousy, babe”

22.”Maybe it’s just a hug that i need right now”

23.”You might be cute, i’m cuter”

24.”Shit mom’s calling”

25.”Bro your dragon looks dope” “that’s my cat”

26.”You think i’m dumb enough to fall for the same move twice?”

27.” They can’t do anything to me. I have nothing left”

28.”Wanna cuddle? like, platonically. Hands down, no funny business”

29.”Just stop”

30.”That’s not the nicest thing to say to the guy who basically just saved your life”

31.”and so like that..-did you just steal candy from a child??”

32.”I almost died the last time.” “But you’re alive now come on”

33.”Alright first my hoodie, then my sweats, take my boxer next”

34.”How long have you been standing there for??”

35.”Don’t bother loving me until you love yourself”

36.”let’s just try getting along for once alright?”

37.”Kissing burns around 6.4 calories per minute, wanna try it out?” “did you just call me fat”

38.”OH MY GOD COCKROAC-” “That’s your hair dumbass”

39.”So do i wash the vegetables with washing detergent or plain water?”

40.”Urgh i feel ugly” “bitch what”

41.”I love you” “Did my mom pay you to say that”

42.”Hey Hey! watch where your legs are”

43.”I believe in you.”

44.”I can’t believe i just agreed on wearing your clothes”

45.”Never ever, think that i’ll leave you”

46.”You fought with them even after i warned you not to. What do you have to say for yourself?” “Oops?”

47.”Just stay like this a little longer”

48.”I wasn’t the bad guy the entire time. You framed me to calm yourself down and i don’t blame you”

49.”Hey! just cause i love you doesn’t give you the rights to steal my food!”

50.” The amount of love and adoration i have for you is terrifying and i’m now concerned”

51.”How in tartarus did you pass your driving test.”

52.”Cuddles?” “Cuddles.”

53. “It’s fine, it really is” “It isn’t”

54.”Stop being so nice all the time, it won’t make people love you more”

55.”Oh dude he/she’s flirting”

56.”I hate you.” “I hate me too”

57.”Maybe if you’d let me, i could be your safe space in this harsh world”

58.”Do you trust me?”

59.”I will deny you death until you beg me for it”

60. “Don’t ever try to get inside my head. It’s too dark for you”

61.”I wasn’t always the one being hunted, I used to be a hunter”

62.”I’m trying, all the time trust me. But it’s just too hard.”

63.”Are you flirting or starting a fight?”

64.”I wish i’d never met you.”

65.”Don’t scream. Don’t move.”

66.”you’re the closest thing i have to a girl/boy as a friend so”

67.”I don’t have a choice - I never had.”

68.”You drive me crazy.”

69.”Stop resisting babe, you asked for it.”

70.”Count, bitch”

71.”You gotta work for it babe”

72.”And you say you deserve a reward huh?”

73.”So that’s why”

74.”Keep moving princess”

75.”We aren’t done until i say so.”

76.”Do you have a valid reason for doing so?”

77.”Are you insane??” “That’s my middle name baby”

78.”Is this really what you want”

79.”You know the drill princess, one word, and i’ll stop.”

80.”You are such a fucking brat..”

81.”I see..But does he make you feel as good as i can?”

82.”That is, by far, the cutest shit i’ve seen my entire life”

83.”Try to stay quiet, understand?”

84.”Behave”

85.”What did you just say?”

86.”Oh darling, you are so in trouble.”

87. “Don’t leave any marks.”

88.”Tell me what you want.”

89.”I want you. Right here. Right now.”

90.”Get on your knees. Now”

91.”I don’t like repeating myself, baby.”

92.”Do i make you nervous?”

93.”Don’t make me take you home and punish you”

94.”This isn’t just a one night stand, You aren’t meant for a one night stand. You know that, right?”

95.”You’re so fucking addicting.”

96.”Don’t test my patience, princess.”

97.”Tsk, sensitive. Pathetic.”

98.”You make me feel things by doing the bare minimum and i’ll show you that.”

99.”This is what you wanted all the time, isn’t it?”

100.”I bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when i get you home.”

More to be added soon! ♡

[scige]

「madelyn cline & cis female」⇾ beaumont, saige, the senior radcliffe student’s records show that she is a cancer and 22 years old. she is studying linguistics + criminal psychology, living in noland and can be blithe, energetic, evasive & irrational. when i see her i am reminded of the familiar riff of an old song, skinned knees with laughter following, and wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones. ⇽「james & 21 & est & they/them.」

N HERE IS MY LAST CHILD FR NOW ... both happy n sad ... god ... bites fist. alright. let’s go!

TW CHILD ABUSE, DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, ADDICTION, DEATH, HIT & RUN CAR ACCIDENTS, GRIEF, GUILT

aesthetics.

stick n’ pokes at 2am – when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they’re bad luck and they’ll break your mother’s back – even if your mother doesn’t love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song – one that’s got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven’t taken down. it’s may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

basic info.

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): n/a :/ give her some

b.o.d. - july 7th, cancer

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc.

height: 5′7″

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: bisexual w/ a very slight preference towards masc-presenting folks

pinterest

stats

inspired by: serena van der woodsen (gossip girl), aimee gibbs (sex education), alexis rose (schitt’s creek), elle woods (legally blonde), rapunzel (tangled), clementine (eternal sunshine of a spotless mind), angela montenegro (bones), tinkerbell (peter pan), late 2000 / early 2010s kesha… i don’t know because she’s not actually inspired by anybody i made her when i was like 13 HDSJBKFNGHJLDS

biography.

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert beaumont, US lieutenant general (soon to be US general), and manon lévesque, world renowned fashion designer on levels par with gucci and versace. both cold, calculating, and purposeful.

no matter how much she wants to believe otherwise, saige is sure that she was not created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire. a proper socialite. a 1% citizen. molded to their will.

born in thibodaux, louisiana (surrounded by her father’s family - a long line of old money southern magnates & moguls with a history of beauty pageant winners in each woman) - it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning a cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years, until radcliffe. even then - conditioned to never become truly attached to a place, she has the urge to up and run away at any given moment, onto the next adventure.

she was kept on a short leash, home-schooled, and learning skills she had no interest in (from cooking to sewing to ballroom dancing - to fencing and firearm safety and self defense) - more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she was bound to what her parents allowed her to see. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends - there one day, gone the next. a ghost you could see, clear as day, but never touch - never fully, at least. even if she tried with all her might.

would run from bodyguards (their version of nannies - robert beaumont is a paranoid man with too many enemies to count) into festival crowds and climb out of windows in the middle of the night to swim in lakes with the locals she’d met only hours earlier - as soon as she realized that there was something wrong with the way she lived.

even if it resulted in punishment, military exercises in the form of her own personal boot camp (she’d been forced to do chin-ups, once, when she ripped an expensive gown at the tender age of seven. not since, however, after she wound up sobbing on the floor - instead they moved on. delicate teacups stacked across her back as she did push-ups, the more she did the more that slipped & broke)

she absorbed as she could, as much as she could get; an intense, undying love for a world she always craved to see.

this was the start of something dangerous - a phase that never seemed to end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. she landed herself in any crowd she could squeeze into - bad crowds, in particular and more often than not - they introduced her, the sheltered girl, into a world she hadn’t quite known existed until then.

ran away briefly at the age of fifteen with a man three years older than her & nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine because of it - if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though guilt from her parents’ disappointment weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse.

from there on, she’d been labeled as a ‘problem child’ - from public intoxication to vandalism, it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could possibly contain her.

boarding school had been an attempt to stop it, enrolled her freshmen year in hopes that she’d come out a proper woman. but being located in new york with easy access to the upper east side of manhattan - it’d been futile.

there’d only been a few significant events during her time there - the death of a classmate (one of her closest friends’ boyfriends) and a ski trip that nearly resulted in her own death, skiing while drunk on a closed off course, in memory of him and the traditions they’d had. the first time she fell in love, and months of pining - running in circles, fights and hiccups and confessions in the dramatic manner all high school relationships seem to be like. they’d finally gotten together - officially, no more sneaking around or pretending - when her parents paid a surprise visit. a rare occasion, nerve-wracking. dangerous. to keep a story short - she’d accidentally exposed her own drug use in their presence, the simple act of pills falling from a purse - and that’d been it. she was gone the next day, with no word to anybody and hardly a word since.

they told family she needed a change of pace, and rumors in her old school said that she’d been expelled, that she’d been sent to the french countryside to live with her grandmother.

she’d only gone to washington, that was all. france was too good, and she was too undeserving. instead she was enrolled in public school, only a quarter through her junior year. her parents rarely spoke to her - rarely in town, the only eyes kept on her were security cameras and the occasional check-in by family friends (the new word for bodyguards, apparently)

but as always - when left alone, saige scrambled to find somewhere she fit, somewhere to tuck herself away in the comfort of other people. a small group, but a loyal group - harmless minus a few miscellaneous charges that they said every small town kid had, at some point. they were safe, they were family - as close as she could get. at least, she had thought so. had really believed it.

she hadn’t intended to go to university after graduating high school, not yet eighteen - not for another month or two, at least. she wanted to travel, meet new people and learn new languages (she’d learned four, already, but had always been a glutton. craved to know more, as if she unlocked secrets with every phrase she could speak) and just. exist.

maybe she should’ve. should’ve left as quick as possible, and never turn back.

saige mysteriously disappeared from the public eye for an entire year, the entirety of her 18th year on earth, before promptly showing up at radcliffe university, ready to learn.

it’d been a year of legal cases & lawsuits & avoiding prison with expensive lawyers and a lot of money.

the getaway driver for an armed robbery at a bank, an unknowing accomplice until her supposed friend ran out from the building and jumped in her car, screaming for her to drive, drive, drive. it had only supposed to have been a quick stop before a road trip to the coast. nobody was supposed to get hurt. but scared, and high, saige had obeyed - and by doing so, led a police chase and, of course, a hit & run that eventually led to saige crashing the car midst breakdown.

the sole victim survived, thankfully - and the beaumonts have been paying the medical bills since. her friend - the one who started it all - was charged & sentenced. but saige got off relatively scot-free. just a year of community service, a slap on the wrist (and the growing wallets of all involved in handling her case). it would’ve made national news if her parents hadn’t stepped in - favors called, resulting in only local headlines.

they hadn’t spoken to her since then. three years of radio silence. she’d think they were dead if it hadn’t been the steady flow of money in her bank account. their silence only feels like a threat of what’s to come if she fucks up again.

ever since - she’s avoided causing too much trouble, still very much the party girl she’d like to be, but staying out of headlines and tabloids. partially in fear of her parents finally cutting ties, permanently, and partially in fear that she’ll end up costing someone else their life with her own selfishness.

UPDATE: she did not avoid trouble n got disowned after a high speed yacht chase it was. a lot. anyways she’s lying to everyone n pretending she’s still rich while rapidly losing money to lawsuit bills n hospital bills n just <3 a whole lot <3 has had to sell her favorite cars and her favorite bass guitar. sheds the smallest tear. spent the summer couch-hopping bt pretending she wasn’t couch-hopping and being :/ really messy. not a good fun look! sucks ... disappeared fr like a straight week n then popped up like hehe wat’s up :D. sighs sm.

personality.

she is so … bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s has so much energy in her. goes running every morning and every night and swims almost every afternoon and she’s never tired, even if she hasn’t slept the last night and even if she’s been dancing for five hours in a club in high heels and nothing but vodka in her system. the personification of a coke bottle shaken up, if the coke bottle in question could laugh and smile at you and make you feel, somehow, at home even though you’d only met her in the bathroom queue.

tries her hardest to be the happy fun friend, the cool friend, the one who can hook you up with whatever you need because she sleeps with her drug dealer and gets discounts, but like, it’s totally okay because they’re also friends.

generally comes off as very confident of herself, and fearless, and reckless but like - fun reckless. the kind of reckless you wouldn’t mind to be around because she takes your worries and acknowledges them and reassures you that it’s fine, that it’s grand, even when it may definitely not be.

takes a lot. so much. could ramble for days, hand gestures and all. never stops talking. never.

if she wants to do something, she’ll do it and there’s not very much you can do to stop her. stubborn, but at the same time easy going? very go go go. mischievous. even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kind of just like … have to let her do it, or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and then you’ll feel questionably guilty, which is admittedly a little manipulative on her end and isn’t the best thing, but i never said she’s the best person ever because she’s most certainly … not.

a vegetarian because meat makes her physically sick, like, she’s got a weird intolerance to it and it’s not quite an allergy because it’s really just red meats but she’ll get a tummy ache.

her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘yknows’, y’know? her statements always sound like questions.

99% sure she has adhd but she’s never been diagnosed because her parents simply would not allow her to go to therapy so if she does have any neurological disorders, mental illness, and the likes of those - she doesn’t know and doesn’t know where to even begin to find out. her parents? fucking suck.

like i said, she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. more of their decision than hers. she still loves them, a lot - and there’s a part of her that believes that they still love her, that they have to, because she’s not disowned yet. even though they haven’t said more than ten words to her since she was eighteen - as long as they keep sending her money, they still care - right?

owns four cars … bad idea considering her past, but alas. spending her money is a coping mechanism and she likes to drive because it’s a form of freedom. anyways. all her cars are on campus and she’s probably not allowed to have them all on campus but she does. one’s a sleek sports car, the other is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like … LED lights and shit, the third one is the same exact fucking mustang from the princess diaries because she’s obsessed with the movie & usually gets what she wants. the fourth is a mini cooper.

she’s a photographer (for funsies) and the walls of her room in noland are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants. her room in general is really cluttered. like, it’s super homey. super cozy. but it’s a mess. clothes everywhere, she’s got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies that she wanted to do and then either never did, or did for a few days and got bored of and haven’t touched since.

i mentioned earlier that she was taught a bunch of skills when growing up - and like, she doesn’t really utilize any of them? knitting, sewing, cookie, three different forms of ballroom dancing - all gone to waste and she’s pretty rusty on most of it, but it’s there. in her mind. it’s kind of neat and i promise she’s not a mary sue it’s just her upbringing HBSJKDFNLG she’s really nuanced i swear. anyways she can also work a gun and a car engine but hates half of the things she knows how to do because she was forced to learn these things.

she plays bass guitar. loves it, loves her guitar. treasured item. she knows violin & piano too but she fucking hates piano & is mostly indifferent towards violin. she can hold a note in other instruments but it’s like. not great.

got really into languages at a young age due to her constant traveling and started learning them unprompted. her mother is like. literally french. a french citizen. so she grew up learning english & french but from there on she’s gotten fluent in spanish (similar 2 french) and latin (dead languages are fun) and then she’s working on a few others like mandarin and german and scottish gaelic specifically but she mostly just knows a few phrases here and there. like, enough to get her through a city if needed.

like she’s super smart and very talented but she’s also ditzy as hell. big dumbass energy to the point where maybe you don’t realize that she’s actually really good at a lot of things because it’s not like she really flaunts it either?

she’s just very reckless, and very much a party girl. has quite the collection of drugs & uses socially, but also alone and throughout the day. rarely sober.

high functioning alcoholic and at this point she doesn’t really know what she’s like when she’s completely sober? which is really bad but she’s convinced that if she goes sober she’ll just be miserable and horrible because at her very core she believes she’s like. the worst human being alive. like very deep issues of self loathing covered by baileys in her morning coffee and 23 crystal lite packets in her yeti cup that happens to be filled with vodka.

this has been a budding problem that was developed since she was a young teenager. the ehem. situation that happened when she was eighteen only amplified it.

is essentially wearing a mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness because she doesn’t want people to think she’s not doing well, because she isn’t.

loves so much. loves everything, so much. everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either, for the most part. i hate to say it but she does flock to shitty people / general assholes because that’s just … how she is, that’s what she’s surrounded herself with her entire life. even her high school boyfriend was an asshole - just like, not to her, which made it Okay in her mind. she finds these kind of people like … super interesting which is really questionable but y’know what? we’re fine. it’s fine. i’m fine.

she sleeps around often, to be frank. she hates being alone and she rarely sleeps in her own dorm unless someone is in there sleeping with her. otherwise she’s at different houses. could be a friend’s bed, could be a stranger’s. has slept with the entire baseball team, probably. she’s also the type of person who’ll try and maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with because she hates the idea of having a regrettable encounter and just. refuses.

this is kind of a problem because she blurs the lines between friendship and Something More too often, and with too many people. wants to be loved but it’s never enough. probably ends up hurting people without realizing it because they think they have something super special but she does this with a lot of people and it’s super :/

does stick and pokes a whole bunch. she can’t draw for shit so they’re not great but she thinks they’re fun and she’s been doing it for a while so like, who cares, right? let her give you one :)

gets sent dress prototypes and like. drafts of designs & articles of clothing from her fashion lines that aren’t out yet and won’t be for a while by her very own mother. saige absolutely gives them all away, for the most part. or it sits in her closet, and stays there. her go-to gift for birthday presents, or christmas gifts, or whenever she feels like it. like, feel free to raid her closet?

ok that’s all. love her.

wanted connections.

a best friend… someone who sticks by her side even though she is a certified Mess.

a ride or die… is it the same as a best friend? maybe. but it’s got a fancy name and i want both so :)

close friends… she’s really friendly and the kind of girl to have been really popular in high school but didn’t care for it and talks to everybody like she’s known them her entire life, so. she’d have a good amount of these!

grumpy friend… to balance her happy friend. she’ll fuck them up in a friendship way. with her cheerfulness.

party pals… they don’t talk much outside of parties but they’re practically glued to the hip when they’re at them. hold your hair back kind of close.

frenemies… or fake friends, toxic friends, people who use her for money or like … sex, or whatever? anything? people who barely tolerate her because she gives them stuff sometimes.

bad influences… they just encourage her to do more, be worse, never get better.

good influences… like … YOINK! stop being an idiot! do your homework! idot!

a tutor… because she’s like…smart…but she’s also stupid…super bad at math & science. help her.

hook ups… friends with benefits, a one night stand that is a little? awkward? since then. past & present tenses. :)

exes… she’s noncommittal so they likely wouldn’t have lasted very long but? yolo? she can be a heartbreaker, as marina said, as a treat? whether they dated or were fucking … either works. but i do love angst :)

one-sided hatred… someone who just fucking … despises her. but she doesn’t realize because she’s an idiot and thinks they’re just like. joking around! like they’re best buddies!

annoyance… but she’s the annoyance. she’s the thorn in their side.

ex-best friend… where something happened between them, like, anything, and it ruined their friendship forever. very sad. angst potential, though.

but like. i’ll take anything.

steals your mail… who knows why?

cat escape… he keeps running away and she keeps letting him inside her room even though she’s allergic…

married old couple… the kind of friendship where they always bicker like they’ve been together for fifty years, but it’s purely platonic (or is it? slowburn BAYBEY. DENIAL babyey.)

off and on again… i think that one that’s not good for them because they enable each other & only get like … angry at each other, and it’s like, messy. but it’s super hard to stop. probably reminds her of high school so that’s why she tries so hard to stick around, but alas. it’s not good. it’s toxic. stop it.

the drug dealer… the one she sleeps with… even though she can just pay for it because she’s rich but like. it’s funner this way.

blurred status… like, it’s just really confusing of what they are? are they, aren’t they? the relationship status is just … muddled. she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to. potential to hurt feelings. :)

please. take her. give me connections.

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

Missing Pieces

for @buckybarnesbingo !!!

by: Lira (me)

square filled: U1 - galaxy

main pairing: bucky/clint

rating: T

major tags: emotional hurt comfort, childhood memories, angst with a happy ending, established relationship

summary: When Clint becomes down and distracted, Bucky takes it upon himself to discover what's bothering his boyfriend. Even though Clint won't talk about it. Even though Bucky has too many missing pieces. Or, In which Bucky goes to great lengths to make Clint smile.

word count: 2942

*

“He’s on the roof again, isn’t he.”

Natasha nods, eyes flicking almost imperceptibly to the ceiling. Bucky shoves his hands into his pockets, his face drawn down in a scowl.

“He still not talking about it?” she asks.

He glares, she quirks an eyebrow. He almost laughs; they rarely have to resort to words to communicate.

Bucky walks back through the doors, heading up to the roof.

“He’s sad,” Natasha says with a sigh. “He just doesn’t know how to show it.” Then, softer, “Please find a way to help him. This doesn’t seem to be a take him to the gym until he punches it out or tease him until he screams at me kind of situation. I’m pretty sure it’s boyfriend territory.”

“I–” He stops, unsure how to go on. He knows it pains her to admit she can’t solve a problem on her own. “Thanks, Natalia.” He doesn't look back, but he can feel her downcast, almost-smile.

* 

He finds Clint on one of his rooftop perches, the one that sticks out over the edge of nothingness and makes Bucky’s stomach do a little flip-flop to see Clint so easily sprawled there. His lithe, muscular body looks relaxed, like he could roll off any second, but Bucky knows he’s in perfect control. Bucky takes a moment to just look at him: straw colored hair turned silver in glow of the rooftop lights, head leaned back so he can stare at the cloud-streaked sky, a band-aid on the back of his hand. His hand… The rest of him looks relaxed, but the hand Bucky can see is balled into a fist.

Clint holds his tension in his hands.

Bucky makes sure his steps are loud enough that Clint isn’t startled when he says, “Hey doll.”

Waiting until Bucky’s standing almost behind him, Clint swings his body around so he’s straddling the perch, his feet hanging down in the air, arms folded on the top of the metal post that had been his backrest, chin resting lightly on his crossed wrists.

“Heya sweetheart.” The easy smile is missing, but there’s a softening around the eyes.

Bucky eases up close, kissing Clint’s forehead and taking a moment to breathe in the scent of his hair. “Nice night,” he murmurs. “Spy anything interestin’?”

Bucky feels the tension radiating from Clint. “Nothing to see.” His voice has a bitter edge. Waving a hand at the sky, he adds, “There’s nothing but clouds. Not even those, really.”

The sky above them is a hazy muddle of black and grey, with some of the grey being a little brighter and streakier and cloudier. Clint’s right, an airplane could fly directly overhead and they wouldn’t see it.

“Guess not,” he says. “Still, it is a nice night. Almost warm, for September. You mind if I sit up here with you for a while?”

Clint shrugs, then turns back to face the city and the sky again. “Be my guest. It’s Stark’s rooftop anyway.”

It feels like a wall dropped down between them, but if Clint says he can stay, Bucky’s staying.

They don’t talk at all, just sit in silence. It’s awkward at first–not because they’re uncomfortable with each other anymore, but because they both know Clint’s hiding something. Clint’s giving off angry-embarrassed-melancholy vibes that practically chime in the air around him, and Bucky’s projecting “caring boyfriend” as hard as he can. But after twenty minutes or so they both figure out how to calm down and just…be. When Bucky steals glances he notices that while Clint’s hand is still clenching and unchencing, worrying at something, his jaw is relaxed again.

He notices other things too. Clint’s breathing is easy, but every once in a while there’s a slight hitch, as if his breath catches on a stray thought. Whenever there’s a particularly strong gust of wind, he squints at the sky, as if it might reveal something previously unknown. And although his bow and quiver are in easy reach, they’re propped up on the roof behind him, not actually on his person. So whatever’s eating at him, it’s not an outside threat.

Not the kind you can shoot with an arrow, anyway.

“I think I’m gonna head down to bed,” Bucky says, feeling his knees pop as he gets to his feet. He may be a supersoldier, but his body still reacts to being in a semi-uncomfortable position on a hard rooftop for several hours. Not that he hasn’t done it before, in far less pleasurable situations than this. He gives his head a tiny shake, a physical reminder that he’s not the Winter Soldier anymore. He looks at Clint. “You comin’ anytime soon?”

Clint swallows, looks down at his hands, then turns his face away. “I, ah, was thinking I’d maybe sleep up here tonight. The last few nights our bedroom, our floor, the whole Tower, really...it’s all been feeling a bit…” He sighs, then finally turns to look at Bucky. “It all just feels too small.”

Small?

Keeping his voice as even as possible, Bucky says, “Clint, at least fifty percent of the time you spend in the Tower is spent crawling through the vents.”

Clint looks back at the sky. “And yet.”

Bucky presses his lips together, holding back the urge to shout, “What is wrong?” at the top of his voice. After a beat he says, “I’ll go get you some blankets, then. Or,” he adds, inspiration striking, “I could send Natalia?”

“Got everything I need.” Clint gestures vaguely over his shoulder, and Bucky sees a muddle of darker darkness he’d missed before among the other shadows on the roof. There’s a cot and a sleeping bag and a pillow, even a thermos Bucky’s sure is full of coffee.

“Say, were you a Boy Scout?” Bucky teases.

“Just because I wasn’t a Scout doesn’t mean I can’t be prepared.” There’s an almost hurt tone to Clint’s voice, hurt and maybe a little reproachful.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, so he just lets the silence stretch for a few more minutes. Then he puts his hands on Clint’s shoulders and kisses the top of his head. “Night, doll,” he murmurs into Clint’s hair.

Our bed won’t be the same without you, he wants to say.

Pretty sure I won’t sleep tonight, thinkin’ about you up here in the cold, he thinks.

Do you know I hold onto a pillow when you’re not around to hold at night? he doesn’t ask.

Instead of saying anything at all, he takes one more breath, waits one more moment, then turns and walks away.

 *

Bucky doesn’t get much sleep. He thoroughly examines their darkened ceiling, the shadows on the walls, the thoughts bombarding the inside of his skull. He’s trying to put together a puzzle with too many missing pieces. There’s a sick feeling in his stomach at the image; it’s too much like a look back at his own past. There are too many things he still doesn’t remember, even after all this time.

He dozes off a little after three am, sleeps for about an hour. He’s not restored when he wakes, just cranky and tired because the bed is–of course–empty, and all he can think is that Clint must be cold without his own personal supersoldier to warm him up. After a few minutes of attempting to kick the blankets and pillows into submission he gives up and stomps to the bathroom to shower; Tony won’t be happy if he breaks another of their beds, even if he breaks this one on his own.

 *

Although he wants to take breakfast to Clint on the roof, sense wins and Bucky waits in the kitchen. He knows Clint will be down fairly early; that thermos might last a person with an average coffee habit a whole cold night, but Clint’s coffee addiction is far from average.

Bleary-eyed from less than stellar sleep and rosy cheeked from wind, Clint stumbles into the common floor at 5:27. Bucky’s waiting with a mug of coffee, hand outstretched.

As expected, Clint doesn’t speak. His grabby hands speak for him.

“Mornin’ doll,” Bucky says with a grin. As Clint slumps onto the stool Bucky flips pancakes and bacon onto a plate and slides it in front of Clint, along with the butter and maple syrup. “Thought you might be needin’ a little pick-me-up.”

“You gonna pick me up?” Clint says with a sly, sleepy wink. He punctuates the wink with a jaw-cracking yawn.

Bucky laughs, shaking his head. “Even exhausted and half frozen you can’t help a good innuendo, can you.”

“Never,” Clint says, digging into his breakfast; with less alacrity than normal, maybe, but at least he’s eating. After a few bites he looks up at Bucky, leaning against the counter a few feet away, and smiles. A real smile. “Thanks. This hits the spot.”

“You’re just sayin’ that cause I made coffee,” Bucky drawls.

“I’m able to speak because you made coffee. I’m saying thank you because you made bacon.”

It’s a nearly normal day in the Tower: the usual breakfast and light-hearted bickering, target practice on the range, working out in the gym, playing ridiculously competitive games of MarioKart in the afternoon. Clint is there but not there; he participates, and even though his shooting is flawless as usual he’s clearly distracted, at least to Bucky’s trained eye. Clint’s not fully engaged in anything, and so much of Bucky’s attention is focused on Clint that when they’re sparring Sam lands a punch Bucky could have easily blocked. Everyone in the room collectively gasps a breath.

Almost everyone. Clint doesn’t even notice.

Later in the day, from the corner of his eye, Bucky spies Clint peeking down from one of the vents.

His mind keeps coming back to the puzzle with too many missing pieces. There’s no way to see what the picture is with a bit of the border and a few scattered center pieces. The vents are okay, but the Tower at night is too small? And how does any of that connect to Clint’s air of melancholy, his distraction? It’s bewildering.

Clint sleeps on the roof again that night.

 *

Bucky’s a little jittery with nerves when, two nights later, he joins Clint on the rooftop again. When he stands behind him, resting his hands on his shoulders, he feels Clint relax, minutely, at his touch. Just that tiny thing calms him, and when he speaks his words are even, without a hint of a tremble.

“Will you try something for me, doll?”

Clint swings around to face him in that easy, graceful way he has. Bucky’s seen it a hundred times, a thousand, but he’s still in awe. He moves like the world had been built as his playground, like gravity is something to be toyed with instead of taken seriously.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Clint’s smile is slight but true, so Bucky barrels onward.

“Come downstairs. You don’t have to stay,” he adds quickly, seeing the smile on Clint’s face ebb away. “I promise. I just want to show you something.”

Bucky can see Clint pulling bits of himself inward, building that protective shell that’s been coming up more and more the past week or so, but still he climbs onto the roof, snagging his bow with one hand and reaching his other out to find Bucky’s in the glow of the rooftop lights.

“Alright,” he says, trusting.

Squeezing Clint’s fingers, Bucky says, “Yeah. Alright.”

 *

The lack of typical Clint chatter is glaring, somehow shouting in the empty, echoing stairwell. But neither of them hesitates. Bucky, for one, is too focused on getting Clint to their bedroom, keeping him tethered to the earth when his ever-increasing nerves threaten to carry him away. Clint is probably miles away, in another state if Bucky’s guess is correct. He’ll find out soon if he’s found the missing puzzle pieces.

In the doorway of their bedroom Clint says, “Huh. It’s clean.”

Bucky fights to resist and fails. “That’s what happens when you’re not here to throw everything everywhere,” he says, his voice dry. “Half of this couple knows how to put things away. Maybe you’ve figured out which half that is.”

Clint chuckles. “Aw, Buck, you wouldn’t want me any other way.”

Leading him to the bed, Bucky asks, “But isn’t it nice to be able to walk across the floor without tripping? Maybe we could use as many as ten fewer bandaids per year if you just put your dirty clothes in the hamper.”

Clint sits willingly enough, but when Bucky tries to pull him down so they’re laying side by side on their backs, Clint resists. He’s laughing, but there’s an edge to his words when he asks, “Was all this just about getting me to bed?”

“Doll, we’ve had sex on that roof more times than I can count.”

He feels Clint relax beside him. “Remember when Tony caught us under the quinjet? Ah, good times.”

Sitting up, Bucky rests a hand on Clint’s thigh, rubbing soothing circles. “Jesting aside. If you’re uncomfortable you can go, but…” He’s looking for the right words to say when he feels Clint’s hand on his. “It’s alright,” Clint says. “I trust you.”

It’s moments like these Bucky fought for–still fights for. Tiny bits of closeness, of another human being reassuring him he’s still human himself, still true, still worthy of love. He kisses Clint’s forehead–he rather desperately wants to do more but this particular bedroom visit is not about sex and he doesn’t want to give either of them the wrong idea–and sprawls beside him, tangling their fingers together. “Ready, JARVIS?”

“Of course, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Wha–” Clint starts, but his question is answered almost before he can ask it when the room plunges into darkness.

“Oh.”

Just one word and Bucky knows it’s going to be alright. Awe and wonder and no more walls between them.

“Stevie helped, but it was my idea. I just asked him ’cause he’s used to holding a paintbrush.”

Laughing, Clint squeezes Bucky’s hand and scoots closer on the bed. “How’d you do it?” His voice, soft, is lighter than it’s been in days.

“Glow in the dark paint.”

Clint elbows Bucky in the side. “I can see that. I mean…” He waves at the stars on the ceiling, the patterns and constellations mimicking the sky they can’t quite see through the light pollution of the city.

“JARVIS projected the, ah, map, I guess you’d call it, onto the ceiling, and Tony rigged up some hover platforms for us to lay on while we painted. Just call me Michaelangelo,” Bucky deadpans.

Clint turns his head and presses a kiss into Bucky’s shoulder. “Thanks, Buck. I–” His breath hitches; he takes a minute, then starts over. “When I was a kid I used to climb out my window onto the roof, when things got to be...too much. The sky was so big, I could look at the stars and just...get lost. Forget about everything else in the vastness of the universe.” He chuckles, though it sounds a bit forced in Bucky’s ears. “Not that I was thinking like that back in those days. Mostly I was just thinking that I was alone on the roof, but I’d be really alone if I could get to the stars.” After a shaky breath he adds, “Alone and safe.”

They look at the stars together for one breath, two breaths. Then Bucky says, “I’m sorry it had to be that way for you.”

“I’m not.” Before Bucky can object, Clint says, “Don’t get me wrong, there are times–many times, if I’m honest–I wish my childhood could have been brighter. Warmer. Safer. But all that crap is what made me who I am. Would I have ever picked up a bow if Barney and I hadn’t run away and joined the circus? Would I be an Avenger? Or would I be married with a dog and two kids and a white picket fence?”

Still staring up into the galaxy spread out above them, Bucky says, slow and soft, “Without my own hellish past I’d be an old man now. Or…” He doesn’t finish the thought, but they’re both thinking the word. Dead. A word they both think often enough, in their line of work, but try not to think about each other. Or say. Almost as one they move closer together, heads clunking almost audibly.

“Ow!” The sound Clint makes is half laugh, half bark of pain.

And then Bucky’s laughing; loud, full laughter that eats away all the tension that’s been building for days. Soon they’re clinging to each other, laughing so hard tears stream from their eyes. Laughing until they can’t even remember why, until they’re only laughing because it feels so good.

“So,” Bucky says when their laughter fades to the occasional gasp or giggle. “Is it okay to say I’m glad you walked down the path that led to me?”

With barely contained laughter in his voice, Clint says, “Only if I can say I’m glad you made it all the way to my present to be struck by Cupid’s arrow.”

 *

Clint does not sleep on the roof that night...but he and Bucky do sleep under the stars.

***

We are made of stardust– every atom in you, in me, once came from Sirius, or Alpha Centauri; they hung from the buckle of Orion’s belt or fell from Cassiopeia’s fingertips.

So together we make up a galaxy an ocean of stars with islands of planets

and where our lips meet, a supernova.

[jj-lynn21]

You will remember things that we never said ch 2

Warnings: Drunkenness, smutty flirting,

Song mentioned: Vent by Hate Theory 

ch 1   ch3   ch 4 ch 5  ch 6  ch 7

Bella gets Stephanie up at one in the afternoon to go to brunch. Stephanie is groggy. She puts her hair in a bun and throws on some sweats with a little bit of make-up. Bella stays in her Shorts and Tank top pjs and grabs a sweatshirt before they leave the dorm. Bella follows her roommate blindly to the student union where many eateries are located. They go to the Coffee Palace first.

“Hey Albre,” Bella said to the counter person. “I’ll have my usual. What would you like Steph?”

Stephanie grumbles, “I don’t like coffee.”

“You will love this coffee.” Bella insisted. “Albre, give me two of my usual.”

Albre said, “No problem, babe.”

She hands the first cup to Stephanie. “It tastes like a snickers bar. You will love it.”

And this is how Stephanie’s caffeine, coffee addiction started. It was love at first sip. Her brain unclouded. Her senses awakened. It was smooth, sweet and chocolatey unlike the bitter flavor of her first drink of coffee years ago when she was thirteen. Bella introduced her to other flavors she liked through the years. But she often went back to this one Mocha nut that reminded her of good memories.

Stephanie and Bella sat across from each other sipping coffee. Bagels and cream cheese on their plates.

“Another tip from me to you.” Bella spread cream cheese on her bagel. “Bread is always best the night after.”

Stephanie laughs, “Alright, I’ll take your word on that. I am still a bit out of sorts from last night.”

“No,” Bella looks at Stephanie seriously.

“What?”, Stephanie looked at her confused.

“You know what,” Bella said. “I saw how you looked at him.”

“Him, who?”  Stephanie tried to comprehend what Bella was saying.

“Axel isn’t for you,” Bella insisted. “He’s a good enough guy but just, No.”

“Alright, Mom.” Stephanie laughed. “Other than telling me what or who’s not good for me, what else do you have going on today?”

“I guess I should read a few of my assignments before tonight.” Bella laughed. “Or I’ll just nap so I can go out tonight to Coperhead. You can join if you want.”

“Cool,” Stephanie said.

“He’s not playing,” Bella smirked.

Stephanie shrugged, “Is that supposed to matter?”

“I guess, not.” Bella laughed. “You have a car?”

“Yes,” Stephanie said.

“Then you’re designated driver buttercup.” Bella said. “The club is about an hour off campus. We are taking Albre and Ryan if that’s cool? You remember Ryan, the blonde with the Mom Tattoo on his wrist?”

“Yeah, cool.” Stephanie really didn’t remember Ryan at all.

Stephanie studied the rest of the day. Taking only a short break to microwave a cup of soup and go get a second coffee to keep her going. She closed the books at eight to get ready to go out. The thought crossed her mind that even though Axel’s band wasn’t playing maybe he would be there. She might just get the nerve to ask him to sit for her to draw him for class.

They pick up  Albre and Ryan. Bella got out and sat in the back seat with Albre. Ryan sat up front. Stephanie set her gps to the address given her and they were off on an adventure. Ryan talked about his classes and books he had read, and Stephanie thought he was nice since they did read some of the same books. Not her type for dating but you can never have to many friends which is something her Mom always said.  They get there about five minutes before the first band is supposed to play.

Todd is taking money at the door. He smiles at Stephanie. She smiles back and thanks him when he gives her change. When he smiles it’s like his whole face smiles including his blue eyes.  Bella sees Rick and a few others so Albre, Stephanie and Ryan follow her over to say hello.

Bella taps Rick on the should and he turns around, “What’s up buttercup?”

“Not much caterpillar.” he chuckles. “We go on in about five minutes.”

He looks to the others. Seeing Stephanie, he winks at her, “Hey pretty girl. How you doing?”

Bella shakes her head, “No, Rick.”

Stephanie smiled, “I’m fine thanks.”

“What Bella?” Rick keeps his eyes on Stephanie. “Ask around, one person said she’s a pretty girl and the rest of us agreed.”

Stephanie blushed which no one could really see in the darkened club. “Who said I was the pretty girl?”

Rick shrugs.

Mick yells, “Come on Rick we are going to need you to play tonight.”

Rick goes and hops up on the stage. Other than Light Bulb their music makes all hell break loose. The mosh pit gets so aggressive one of the big guys standing between Stephanie and the pit, picks her up and places her on top of a big speaker to sit.  Bella and Albre stay standing in front of the stage laughing every time they get knocked around a little.

Stephanie sees Axel and Todd standing against the wall opposite of her. She smiles as he catches her eye and nods not showing any emotion just slight acknowledgement. Axel says something in Todd’s ear. Rick comes over to play the bass right in front of Stephanie and she turns her attention towards him. The music more hardcore than Zeigeist, but everyone needs to Vent ,which is the name of the song being played. And Stephanie loved Rick giving her attention while others standing in the front row were practically begging with their eyes for him to come nearer.

Axel and Todd were gone when Stephanie glanced back across the room. Other bands played and Stephanie kept her spot on the speaker. Rick came over with two bottled waters and handed one to her.

“I heard you’re the designated driver tonight.” He said. “I can’t let the pretty girl driving one of my best friend’s home get dehydrated. I don’t think you are getting through this crowd to the bar any time soon either.”

Stephanie giggled, “Thanks Rick. Great set. People got crazy.”

“Yeah, that happens.” He said. “Glad you’re digging the music.”

Bella turns to them, “And what are you two discussssing” She slurs.

“Just how beautiful you are, babe.” He grabs ahold of Bella to help her balance.

“SSSuch a charmer,” She kisses his cheek.

“Stephanie you want to take this beauty queen home?” Bella lays on him her eyes barely slit open.

“We came with Ryan and Albre.” Stephanie pointed out.

“I’ll clear a path so you can get out with Bella.” Rick started yelling. “Out of my way. My girls need to get outside.”

The crowd magically parts like the red sea. Stephanie follows him. He is holding Bella upright. Stephanie gets Ryan and Albre’s attention to follow her. They make it out of the stale air to the fresh outdoors. Bella pukes in a trash can as Rick holds her hair back. It’s the kindest thing Stephanie ever saw a man do. Usually they are laughing at the drunk puking girl. Here everyone seems concerned. Someone brings out a ginger ale from the bar. When she feels good enough, they head home.

Stephanie drops Ryan at his door. Albre helps get Bella into her room. Stephanie gets Bella a ginger ale from their shared mini refrigerator.

Albre takes it when Stephanie goes to Bella’s bedroom door. “I’ll take care of her tonight Steph. Go ahead to bed. I’m used to sleeping with her when she is like this. I’ll keep her on her side and hold her hair if she pukes anymore tonight. But I think she will be out cold until tomorrow afternoon some time.”

Stephanie takes a shower and passes out in bed sometime around six in the morning. A few minutes after noon she wakes. Exhaustion has set into her body, but she knows she needs to get some more studying done. At this point she’s not going to be ahead.  She hopes to just get the coming weeks work done and maybe by mid-week start on next weeks work.

But first and four most coffee. Oh yes, a shot of expresso just for that extra kick she needs. And a bagel. She is going with the bread theory. She starts reading. Doodles on the sides of her paper as she takes notes. Makes an outline for a paper that is due in two weeks. And reads as she takes notes some more. The sun has set when her stomach finally growls loud enough for her to want to do something about it. Albre steps out of Bella’s bedroom at the same time Stephanie is headed out to grab dinner.

“How is she doing?” Stephanie asked.

“I got her to eat some bread this afternoon.” Albre said. “We have been studying. Now she is hangry (hungry/angry) so I’m going to get some burgers and fries.”

“Me to,” Said Stephanie. “I’ll walk with you.”

They chatted about the fun night before. Then parted ways when they got back to the dorm room that had two separate bedrooms with a shared lounge area. Albre was a nice girl with a small frame and short blonde hair. She had been dating  Bella for a year so knew how to deal with her hangovers.

Stephanie went back to studying as she ate. She must have been more tired than she thought. The next thing she knew her eight in the morning alarm was going off for her to get ready for class. She had it set extra early so she could get to class a few minutes before Axel to ask to paint him. She was nervous about it.

Stephanie was leaning on the wall by the class door when Axel got there. He looked blandly at her as she smiled.

“Can I ask you something?” She bit her lower lip unknowing of the effect it had on him.

He nodded yes and stepped away from the door. He leaned on the wall on her other side.

Stephanie turned to him, “Can I draw you? For our Art Project I mean.”

He sucked in a breath before answer, “Yeah, can I draw you?”

“What like one of your French girls?” Stephanie giggled.

Axel kept his face placid. “Yeah, if you want me to draw you naked that’s cool.”

Stephanie turned beat red, “How about just a regular portrait. I didn’t know if you would get the titanic reference.”

“I got it Stephanie,” He paused studying her for what seemed like to her a long time. “I’m done with classes at four this afternoon. Can I just come by your dorm?”

“Yeah, 121 Sethers tower.” She tried to breath normally, but she could hear her own breath and his since he was so close.

“Cool,” Axel cracked his neck as he turned to open the classroom door. Then he waited for Stephanie to go inside first before shutting it behind them. Even though class hadn’t started yet it seemed everyone looked at them when they came in. Stephanie scampered to the front of the class. Axel sat in the back as he always did.

Axel sat on the couch as Stephanie attempted to capture his soul on her paper. She had offered him a drink when he entered her dorm room. He held up a beer he had brought with him. He took a swig before setting it on the table. He had been very quiet for the last three or four minutes. So had Stephanie. He looked so intense just sitting there but she didn’t know how to break the silence. Bella had classes scheduled later in the day, so they were alone.

Axel clear his throat. “So, you a virgin?”

“No,” She barely glances at him trying to get some lines and shading how she wants them. He is making it very difficult to focus.

“How long have you been with your boyfriend.” His expression hasn’t changed since he walked in the room. But he is trying to gage if he can get with her any time soon. “Do you have good sex regularly?”

Stephanie throws the art tablet on the table almost knocking Axel’s beer over on it, but he grabs his beer and finishes it. “

“I had sex with my high school boyfriend,” Stephanie spit. “We had sex I guess you could say often but I still always finished myself off. Is that what you wanted to know?”

“So, he didn’t go down on you or help you cum in anyway?” Axel just kept his voice casual as he moved closer to her.

His hands brushed over her tense outer thighs making her gasp. “No,”

“No one has every made you cum even by sucking your clit until they can lick up all your juices,” Axel closes his eyes. “mmm...” He opens his eyes sliding his hand over her jeans where her slit lays close underneath. “Your ex-boyfriends sounds-like a real prick.”

She feels dampness between her legs. “Axel.”

“What Stephanie?” His phone buzzes. The doorknob turns. Axel gets up as he answers his phone. “What’s up?”

Bella comes in seeing them. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had company Steph. Put the do not disturb sign I put over on my door on the main door next time. I mean since you’re obviously not going to listen to my advice.”

Axel smirks at her as he listens to who called him.

Stephanie grabs the drawing she was working on to show to Bella, “I was just drawing him for a school project.”

“Ok,” She said but threw eye daggers at Axel.

“I’ll be there shortly Derick.” Axel said to the person on the phone. “I fucking lost track of time working on a project with a friend.” He hangs up. “Did I give you enough to finish Stephanie?”

“Um…” Stephanie wasn’t sure how to answer with the phasing of his question. And she was more than a little flustered.

“Can you finish the drawing I mean,” Axel said.

“Yes, you were great Axel.” Stephanie smiled.

He chuckled, “You haven’t experienced me being great yet.” Axel headed out the door. Bella rolled her eyes.

“Wait what about you drawing me?” Stephanie stood in the doorway. Axel only a few steps away.

“I have you right up here” Axel points to his forehead.  He turns to walk away with a big grin on his face knowing he made the impression he wanted.

Stephanie watches him. Bella shakes her head a few steps behind Stephanie. 

[collecting-stories]

PT 5 | Modern!Ivar

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

There was nothing that could have possibly made this visit worse. Since moving out to go to college Ivar had taken full control of his medical needs. He took himself to his own doctor’s appointments, physical therapy, and anything else that he required. It wasn’t something he had really considered important until he moved out and had some level of freedom. Now he couldn’t imagine not being able to navigate his own medical care, though he didn’t have to imagine it for too long. With Aslaug visiting before the holiday he was forced to bring her to the last of his doctor’s appointments before he was able to go home for Christmas.  

“You don’t need to be here,” Ivar stated for the hundredth time as he sat in the exam room waiting for the first of the onslaught to come through the door. Clinic visits were the worst in his opinion, only because it was a barrage of nurses, therapists, doctors, social workers, and nutritionists. All with the best intention and all determined to get Ivar to do things he didn’t want to do. Like join support groups or consider learning more everyday skills like cooking.  

“I haven’t been to a doctor’s appointment with you in almost a year Ivar, indulge me just this once.” Aslaug requested, setting her bag down on the chair beside her and pulling out her notepad and pen. His mother was nothing if not obsessed with taking notes during these appointments, in case she needed to dig up some obscure suggestion from years prior to nag him about. If only he’d learned to peddle that stupid hand bike when he was eleven, then he would be more social surely.  

Before he could argue further with her a knock came at the closed door. It opened a crack and Ivar felt his stomach flip in anxiousness as you appeared in the entryway. “Hey, just thought I’d come in first before the parade begins.” As you walked fully into the exam room you caught sight of Ivar’s mother, sitting there appraising you. “Hi, you must be Mrs. Ragnarsson, I’m Ivar’s physical therapist.”  

“Nice to meet you. I told my husband that everyone just keeps getting younger and younger when I go to the doctor’s.” She noted, jotting down your name in her notepad.

“That’s true,” you brushed off the jab, “I actually shadowed Ivar’s old therapist last year, so we’re a bit familiar with each other.”  

“Oh I so loved her, she was a wonderful lady.”

“She was.” You nodded and turned your attention to your boyfriend, who looked very much like he wanted to sink into the floor. “So, I’m just going to do basic measurements. I’d usually stay longer but I’ve got a few other patients in before the holiday.”

“So no goals to discuss for after break?” Aslaug asked. She watched as you sat down on the stool and rolled it over to her son’s chair.  

“Well I just had Ivar in yesterday for therapy, I can email you my chart if you’d like to see what gameplan we made for the coming year. As Ivar knows I’m stepping into a more pediatric position after the end of next year. I’ll be taking on more cases that focus on younger kids and some of the older patients will be transitioning into the adult hospital.” You replied, trying to focus on your work as you spoke.  

It had been over chinese food, after Ivar told you he loved you and he wanted you to spend the holiday with him that you broke the news about your shift in job positions. It was a blessing really, and though he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of getting used to a new therapist in a years time he knew that you not being his PT anymore meant that you could openly date him. Something you reassured him you had taken into consideration when you accepted the job offer. You also didn’t miss the opportunity to point out that working with kids would mean working with people who were actually nice to you and did what you asked.  

“I always do what you ask.”

“Rarely.” You pointed out, “Almost only on Fridays.”

“Last Wednesday I did that stupid leg exercise and practiced transitioning myself down on the floor and back into my chair.” He pointed out.

“Yeah but you only agreed to the last one to show off.” You retorted.

“Maybe.” Ivar grinned, knowing it was true. He couldn’t deny that knowing you were physically attracted to him was always a massive ego boost and he definitely enjoyed the little grin you always had watching him doing anything physical.  

The exam room door opened to let in both the social worker and the nutritionist, breaking Ivar’s train of thought. You stood up and moved over to the computer, typing some notes into his chart before reading back his measurements to Aslaug so she could track them herself. The nutritionist started in on him immediately, commenting on his weight from the morning.  

Ivar watched you typing as he spoke, annoyed that his mom had insisted on coming with him this morning. You had done measurements yesterday during therapy and he knew you had come in first in hopes of spending a little bit of time with him before the two of you left for the holiday in a couple of days. Now that had been interrupted by his mother and he wouldn’t get any time alone with you aside from the drive to and from his family home. Until then you and he were both busy and once the holiday started it would be a crammed house of relatives for one long and tortuous weekend that Ivar was growing to regret more and more.  

“Well I’m all done, I’ll get out of your hair.” You announced, patting Ivar’s arm as you walked passed him to the door. “It was nice to meet you Mrs. Ragnarsson.”  

“You as well.” Ivar’s mother said, offering you less than a glance as you left the room.  

Ivar slumped a bit in his chair, leaning against the backrest more than he usually would as he listened to his mother discuss diet options that would be healthy while he was living in a dorm. He wouldn’t have minded wheeling out after you and spending the rest of the day anywhere but here. Or better yet if he could rewind to last night when he was over your apartment for dinner and he didn’t have to worry about stupid diets or how far his leg could unbend.  

His phone buzzed in his sweatshirt pocket. A message from you, that one of your patients had canceled and you could leave early if he wanted to do something for dinner. Ivar quickly texted back.  

-What would be for dinner?-

-Greek? Why are you gonna out with your other girlfriend if you don’t like the food?-

-I don’t have another girlfriend-  

-I bet you say that to all your girlfriends-

-😒-

-So I guess you haven’t mentioned the dating to your mom-

-Not yet. I will-

-Before I arrive at her house for Christmas?-

“Ivar are you paying attention?” Aslaug asked, leaning forward to nudge her son’s elbow.  

“There isn’t anything to pay attention to, we’re just sitting here waiting for the doctor to come in.” Ivar replied, “and once he does it’ll be the same thing it always is. He’ll read all the stuff the nurse already asked and noted and then tell me I’m looking good and to keep up the good work and then we’ll leave.”  

“This is very important Ivar. Your health is something you should take seriously.”

“I am.” He argued.

“Not when I’m doing all the talking and you’re texting away on your phone. That might’ve been fine when you were a kid but you’re an adult now Ivar. You need to pay attention and listen and respond.” She commented, leaning back in her chair.  

“Yes mother.” Ivar grumbled, knowing he would get nowhere with her. He sent one last text to you, promising he would talk to his mom. He wanted to but she was already getting on his last nerve with her nitpicking and he couldn’t imagine how she would take the news of him dating. Especially him dating his physical therapist. He could already picture how that conversation would go.  

“When the doctor is in I want to talk to him about you getting involved in more social activities. I worry about you being all alone.” Aslaug mentioned, picking up right where she had left off that morning when she told him that he needed more friends.  

Taglist: @breathlesssouls @lif3snotouttogetyou @demonhunter1616 @flowers-in-your-hayr @alwaysadreamingoptimist @ms-allenbrown  @arses21434 @glopsifum @aelfenpath @moose-squirrel-asstiel @vikingalexthedane @another-life-addict @born-in-19-96 @naaladareia @mysticthinking @artanakin @thats-so-rhyan  @spotted-possibilities @wallabiewisher @thinkingsofamadwoman @mixedwiththemoon @titty-teetee  @queenmissfit @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @filthyshieldmaiden @mblaqgi @glopsifum @ilvebeenabad @artanakin @noaor @hanbinwsrt 

[gwaciechang]

Stars, Hide Your Fires (1/5)

“Roll away your stone I will roll away mine Together we can see what we will find Don’t leave me alone at this time For I am afraid of what I will discover inside”

There’s dubcon kissing and touching in this because Dixie’s a prostitute and Laurie doesn’t actually want to sleep with him when they pay him. Specifically, when the elevator door closes, and after they’ve eaten pasta.

I’ve never hired a sex worker before, so I don’t know whether the prices here are correct or not. I’ve also never actually watched Murder on the Home Front, just gifs, nor do I actually want to, so if somebody could link me to a compilation of just Dixie’s scenes, that’d be great.

If you want to be tagged in future installments for this, please let me know by either commenting or replying to it. Thanks!

Somewhere, a person falls from an iron maiden into the arms of a scared stage manager. Elsewhere, a person is driving the man they don’t know they’ve married to a methadone clinic. And in a different place entirely, someone is playing guitar to their neighbor.

Meanwhile, you’re taking a garbage bag full of moldy cakes to the dumpster.

“You going to be okay?” Shelley asks.

“It’s five steps from the door, what's going to happen? The cakes become sentient and try to eat me back?” you offer him your most reassuring smile. “Go home, Shelley. Let me close up today.”

“Drive safe,” Shelley says as he walks to his car. You have no doubt that he’s actually going to sit in his car until he sees you leave. Well, this shouldn’t take you more than five minutes.

It does, because you almost step on a person about to go down on someone.

You let out a little shriek, which makes the man look up. You forgive him immediately, because he’s really, really attractive. He’s not really dressed for the night chill, and you can see suppressed shivers. The warmest thing on him is the old-fashioned cap you think you’ve seen in a museum somewhere, beneath which shone perceptive eyes in a sharp, elfin face.

“Hey!” you croak out. “Not here!”

“I paid good money for this,” the woman above him snarls

You hold your ground. “I don’t care, you still can’t fuck at the back of this restaurant. Just be glad my manager isn’t the one who caught you.”

The woman opens her mouth to yell at you, but the man in the old-timey hat gives you both a swollen-lipped, charming smile. “I won’t charge you while we find better accommodations,” he runs a finger down her cheek.

“Alright, dearest,” the woman smiles back cloyingly, and then they’re gone. You breathe a sigh of relief as you go inside and hang up your apron.

The day had been terrible. One of the cooks had burned a steak that Shelley had to remake while trying to keep them from crying. A waitress had spilled watermelon juice on a customer, so then Shelley had to sweet-talk them from yelling at her. And that brought you to now, hours and possibly days after someone had knocked the plug for the dessert freezer, turning all the cakes moldy. You end up having to take another fifteen minutes to drop all the cakes into the dumpster, mourning the time the newbie baker spent making them, and ignoring the grunts coming from far too closely.

By the time you finally get to your car, even Shelley has clearly decided to leave, but the man in the old-timey hat is still in the street corner, leaning against the wall of the building that always smells like burning chemicals of some sort. You walk up to him, intending to thank him for saving your ass earlier.

He looks you up and down before licking his lips lasciviously. “Looking for a good time?” he walks closer.

You're not stupid, you know prostitutes frequent this area, but it’s never been your business. Everybody has to make money, and as long as nobody gets hurt-

And now he’s close enough that you can see the swelling around his eye. You have to squint to see the bruise, meaning it’s been covered up by a practiced hand.

“Who hurt you?” you step closer to him.

“No one,” his smile doesn’t fade, but he visibly tenses.

“Then who punched you in the face?” god, you need to stop being as frank as your roommate. Blunt might serve Alex well, but you’re not a journalist, you’re waitstaff. “Never mind, what’s your name?”

“Matt,” he lies.

“Okay, ‘Matt,’ How much do you charge?”

Just like that, the Cheshire grin is back. “A hundred an hour, double if you want to do weird shit.” He looks you up and down again, slower this time, deliberate, like he’s undressing you. “But for you, I think we could negotiate.”

“How much for a whole night?”

“Matt” scoffs, “No offense, but I don’t think you can afford a whole night.”

You think about how much food you have left in your apartment, how long it’s been since Alex has had an article, how there’s the outline of another bruise below “Matt’s” collar, and your mind’s made up. “How much?”

“Matt” looks surprised, and it takes a while for the smile to return. “Five hundred,” he says finally, “half up front, half in the morning.”

“I’m guessing you need it in cash?” your last roommate was a meth addict, you learned how this works. “I have to hit the ATM. My car’s this way,” you wave him along.

“Wow, hot, rich, and smart,” he falls into step with you. “You’re going to be fun.”

You blush, even though you know it’s his job to pretend to be attracted to people. “Not rich, just financially savvy.”

“Except when you hire a prostitute for the whole night,” “Matt” points out.

“You’ve got a point,” you shake your head at yourself.

The moment the elevator doors close, “Matt” gets into your space, pushing you up against the wall and sliding a hand down to squeeze your ass.

You push him off you with a yelp. “What the hell?”

“It’s what you’re paying for, gorgeous,” his whisper is hot, but his lips and hands are cold. “Calm down, let me take care of you,” he keeps his grip on your ass when he presses his hips forward, and, okay, this has to stop before you lose your mind.

Thankfully, the elevator dings right then, and “Matt” straightens out, wiping his kiss-swollen lips and walking out like a normal person. He stays silent until you both enter your apartment, where Alex is sitting in front of their computer munching on a block of cheddar cheese like some sort of heathen. Their eyes narrow as they take in you, then “Matt.” Too late, you remember the “investigative” part of “investigative journalist.”

“A threesome is extra,” “Matt’s” eyes go wide as he looks between the two of you.

Alex’s jaw drops, as does the piece of cheddar in their mouth. “Laurie, what did you do?”

“Matt” covers his face with his hands and groans. “You’re not going to try to peddle the Bible to me, are you?”

Alex snorts. “As if either of us are in a position to preach.”

“Sinners, both of us,” you agree, grabbing your handtowel out of the bathroom and running warm water over it. “Come, sit on the toilet,” you motion.

“Matt’s” eyes squeeze shut as you wipe the makeup off his face, even though you’re going as gently as you can, to reveal the purple ring around his eye.

“Put some ice on that,” Alex says at the door, holding a bag of frozen peas out to you.

“Matt” says nothing, but judging from the unhappy tilt to his mouth, he’s probably only letting this happen because he’s getting paid.

“Thanks,” you take it from them gratefully and have “Matt” press it against his face. “So, you hungry?” you ask, walking out to the kitchen.

“What do you want?” “Matt” asks flatly, “I’m not complaining, but six hundred dollars is a bit much for a therapy session.”

“It’s cold out,” you say lightly. “Days like these, I know I want to eat something hot.”

“Matt” thrusts the bag of frozen peas back to you. “I don’t need saving.”

“I know,” you don’t tell him that you’re lonely. You also don’t tell him that the last three people you saw around the building he came out of were dead.

There must be something in your face that gets his approval, because “Matt” puts the bag of peas back on his face. “Macaroni and cheese,” he says, before sitting stiffly on the couch.

“The macaroni I can do,” you dig the box of pasta out of the cupboard. “Unfortunately, the cheese,” you nod to the cheddar in Alex’s hand.

They shove the rest of the cheese in their mouth, probably just out of spite. But then they wave you into their room, just after you put the pasta in the pot to boil. They lean down to the safe they have in the corner, next to the closet, and opens it to reveal more money than you’ve ever seen at once. “When you get the sort of assignments I do, you learn to keep a thousand dollars in cash ready to go,” they say ruefully. “How much do you need?”

“I can’t-”

“Can he?” Alex cants their head to the guest in the living room.

You take the money. For some reason, Alex takes their laptop and shuts their door after this. Music blares from their room, and then it’s just you and “Matt” in the living room.

You sit uncomfortably at the dining room table across from him, and you eat in silence. “Here,” you say finally, handing over the other half of the five hundred.

“Matt” doesn’t touch it, instead coming to stand in front of you. In between one blink and the next, he’s straddling you.

“Matt-”

“Let’s figure out how to make you feel good,” he murmurs against your jaw before swooping down to kiss you, hot, wet, and absolutely filthy. His lips curve against yours when you shiver from it, and only now do you realize you’ve been kissing back. He tastes like your boxed pasta, like mint, like that weird burnt chemical smell from the building he came out of.

You wrench away. “Jesus, stop, fuck!”

“Matt” frowns at you. “Why?”

“Fuck, I don’t need-” your voice cracks. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m sorry,” your legs are shaking too hard to stand up, but “Matt” gets off you regardless and sits on the couch.

“I’m clean,” “Matt” says quickly. “I go to the clinic every week. You need to see the test results?”

“No,” you manage to stand mostly without staggering. “I only have sex with people who want it.”

“Matt” scoffs. “Well I want what you paid me for,” he nods to the money that’s still on the kitchen table.

“Well, I paid you to sleep on this couch,” you nod to it. “Do you want a blanket?”

“You’re no fun,” “Matt” spends too long rolling his eyes for it to be sincere. “I’d like a pillow, too.”

You get them for him, and then you lock your bedroom door and spend less than a minute jacking off before orgasming as silently as you’re capable of.

[scige-archive]

LIANA LIBERATO / CIS FEMALE. — saige beaumont is really making a name for themselves as a sheep. i think that she is studying criminal psychology + linguistics in their junior year at lockwood, living in alpha nu. originally from thibodaux, louisiana, saige is known to be blithe & energetic, but can also be evasive & irrational. — james / 20 / est / she/they.

hi !! this is mostly just a repost, but there has been added information to her biography section, as well as her connections to the victims. i’m excited to continue rping with u all !!!

TW DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, IMPLIED ABUSE, ADDICTION, HIT & RUN.

a e s t h e t i c s

stick n’ pokes at 2am – when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they’re bad luck and they’ll break your mother’s back – even if your mother doesn’t love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song – one that’s got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven’t taken down. it’s may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

general info !!

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): n/a so give her some uwu

b.o.d. - july 7th, 21 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: firstly when aren’t my babies bi as FUCK but she also prefers masc-presenting folks

pinterest

stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert beaumont, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

saige never believed she was created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire, molded to their will.

it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning the cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years.

kept on a short leash, homeschooled, and learning skills she had no interest in – she was more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she felt restrictively tethered to her parents.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends – saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

running from bodyguards (nannies, in a sense. her father is a paranoid man) into festival crowds and climbing out of windows in the dark of night to swim in lakes with locals she’d meet only a few hours earlier – she absorbed as much of what she could get; this intense, undying love for a world she had always craved to see.

it was the start of something near dangerous – a phase that seemed to never end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. the bad sort of crowd was the crowd she found herself landing, more often than not – introducing the sheltered girl to a world she hadn’t quite known existed

she ran away, briefly, at age fifteen with a man three years older than her – which nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though the guilt of her parents’ disappointed weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism – it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it – she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either – but, by some chance – and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of life, next thing she knew, she was a student at lockwood university.

she was involved in a getaway chase from an armed robbery at a bank which then turned into a hit-and-run in washington when she was on the brink of turning eighteen. it was a situation she had no control over, not knowing her role in the scheme until it was too late to turn back. the victim survived but saige’s family has been paying the medical fees since then. her parents haven’t spoken to her since.

ever since the accident, saige has avoided causing too much trouble - generally staying out of headlines and tabloids, partially in fear of her parents finally cutting ties, and partially in fear of doing something that’ll cost another person their life.

and while too afraid to visit the victim & their family, every month since the conviction of the others involved - she’ll visit one of them in particular. it’s been three years and saige has shown no sign of stopping.

during her last visit, he had sent her on a scavenger hunt resulting in her breaking into his brother’s (& his, technically) home and finding a second iPhone - one she had no idea he had, one with the watershed app installed. their intentions was for saige to be able to access the app - but his shepherd access had been revoked, and the phone had already been wiped clean. regardless, saige took it back to rochester with her.

personality !!

bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s got so much fucking energy on her – she goes running every morning and every night and swims like every afternoon and she’s n e v e r tired ?? the personality of a coke bottle shaken up but like if the bottle could laugh.

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes–reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

if she wants to do something, she will do it and there’s not much you can do to stop her tbh. she’s very easy-going, very go-go-go, very…mischievous, y’know? even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kinda just have to let her do it or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and you’ll feel ?? this weird sense of guilt ?? which isn’t the Best thing but she’s not the best person either so dfghjh

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

like…she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. she’s not disowned…like, yet, but they haven’t said more than like five words to each other since saige was eighteen and it k i l l s her but they also send her a shit ton of money every month so.

owns like…four cars…..she has them all on campus…..she prolly isn’t suppose to…but she does…one of them’s a real sleek sports car, one is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like LED lights n shit, one is the same exact fucking car from the princess diaries b/c saige is obsessed w/ the movie. the other is like. a mini cooper probably.

a photographer, her walls are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants and in general her room is very ?? cluttered ?? like it’s very home-y but god. she’s a mess. clothes everywhere. she’s probably got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies on a chair in the corner that she hasn’t touched in a while

speaking of !! she has a bunch of random, like, skills ?? like knitting and sewing and cooking and three different forms of ballroom dancing, and she can definitely work a gun and a car engine except she goes thru interests so rapidly and is disinterested in most of the other ones b/c her parents forced like half of them onto her.

she plays bass guitar. she loves her bass guitar. she knows other instruments but the only ones she’ll really fidget with are her bass guitar and like, her violin. everything else she’s like ~okay~ at

got really obsessed with languages at a young age and started learning them ?? her mother is like. super french, like genuinely from france, so she already grew up speaking both english and french but she’s learnt others for the hell of it and she’s still learning like three other at the same time which is a MESS but she’s a mess so like can u blame her sdfghj

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like…quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly – she’s rarely sober.

a budding alcoholic because she’s convinced that without it she’ll be Miserable and Horrible to everybody because she’s a Horrible, Awful person who is the absolute Worse and if drinking vodka mixed in with 23 crystal lite packets helps with not thinking like that then she’ll do it no questions asked

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by … the situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she loves so much. she loves everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either. if ur a shitty person/come off as an asshole then she’ll be more likely to be attracted to her b/c shes Always been like this. finds them super interesting which is ?? questionable ?? sometimes i want to just. knock some sense into her but y’know what…it’s fine we’re Fine

she gets around p frequently but is also the type of person who’ll like, try n maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with b/c the idea of having regrettable encounters is smth that Bothers her and she just pretty much refuses.

it’s honestly a bit of a problem ?? she blurs the lines between friendship and Something, Anything More too often and with too many people b/c she just. wants to be loved. but there is never enough !

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

uuuhh her mom sends her like…prototypes of things she designs n shit that isn’t out yet and saige 100% always gives it away or it sits in her closet and essentially that is her go-to gift for birthdays or christmas or whenever she feels like it

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

connections to the victims !!

tatiana samuels / saige & tatiana met when they were freshmen and junior, respectively. they quickly became friends - mostly seen together at parties, where they’d encourage each other to do more, more, more. their friendship was ended after they’d taken a friend’s car on a joyride and wound up crashing it off of a back road. saige freaked out about it & tatiana ... did not. as a result of their very different reactions, and saige’s fear of landing in the news, they cut ties.

george craig iii / saige had met george after bringing tatiana back to her dorm one night where they accidentally crossed paths. one thing led to another and they wound up sleeping together. it hadn’t meant to be a thing at all, but there had been two other incidents of them ‘accidentally crossing paths’ before his disappearance.

hana williams / for the two of them to not be friends would be, frankly - weird, due to their similar friendly personalities. they got along well, but weren’t the closest pair.

christoph wainwright / they had hooked up numerous times before without issue, but christoph’s jealous yet emotionally unavailable personality & saige’s own conflicted feelings had resulted in a huge fight, which led to their falling out - which led to them quickly becoming enemies, instead.

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

and just in general, like, people she’s p close to ?? she’s really friendly and is the kind of girl who’d be really popular in high school but doesn’t care abt popularity n talks to literally Everybody like she’s known them all her life.

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, where they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like…she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

…somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

the drug dealer she keeps sleeping with even though she can just … pay for her shit. b/c it’s funner this way !

just … people where their like … relationship status is Blurred and it’s like, are they a thing? are they not? b/c she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to !

please. take her. give me connections.

[unicornss-and-mermaidss]

The Relentless Man

*gasps*

"How did you get in here?"

"Through your window."

"What? How? That's impossible!! I closed it and locked it!"

I looked at my window and shit, it's not closed.

*poof*

The shadowy figure vanishes.

What the hell? I must be dreaming, this must be a dream.

I get up to turn my light on, but no one was there. I go over to my window, and sure enough its cracked ever so slightly. I close it again, lock it, and attempt to go back to sleep.

*alarm sound*

Ughhh, its 6:30 already? I feel like I've gotten no sleep at all. I'm still trying to figure out was last night a dream or not. I go over to my window and it's still closed and locked. Okay, just breathe Julia, it was a dream.

"Hey Julia, you okay? You look a little rough today?"

"I do? Well thanks for being honest. Brad! But yeah, I'm okay.

"Well, if you need anything Julia, I'm here for you."

"Thank you Brad."

Brad was one of my coworkers. He is very sweet and caring. He's also a very good friend. He likes me, but I don't like him like that, but he still continues to try to charm me.

Yes, finally, its 5:00. I speed home, shower, walk towards my window to make sure its closed and locked, and get into bed. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I woke up to use the bathroom. Goodness, it's already 1:10am, wow! I get back into the bed and snuggle under the covers and then I see the shadowy figure again. I'm having this dream again? Just remember it's just a dream, you're not crazy Julia!

"This is just a dream!"

"No, its not, this is real, I can assure you it's real.

"What? How? And how did you get in here?"

"Through the window."

"No, no, no, no! I know for a fact I closed the window and locked it." How are you getting through my window?"

"I have a fancy way of maneuvering through things."

"Yeah, obviously! What do you want? Are you here to kill me, because if you are, just go ahead and do it. I really have nothing to lose."

"JULIA, I WOULD NEVER HURT YOU OR BRING HARM TO YOU, NEVER, SO PLEASE, DO NOT TALK LIKE THAT, OKAY?"

"Wait, how do you know my name? Who are you? And what do you want from me if it's not to kill me?"

"I'm here to protect you."

"From what? I don't need protection."

"Yeah Julia, you do."

The shadowy figure dissapeared. Where did it go? I'm so confused. So if this isn't a dream, what's happening? What's going on? And why do I need protection?

"Julia, hey!"

"Hey Brad."

"Everything okay? You just seem like you're all over the place today?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Do you want to talk about it? You know I'm all ears and you know you can always talk to me about anything, ANYTHING."

"Yeah, I know, thank you."

5:00 hits and I'm dreading going home. I don't know if my mind is playing tricks on me or what. But, if the shadowy figure appears again today, I will demand answers and I will demand to know what's going on. It said it'll never hurt me or bring harm to me, so I want answers, and I want them now dammit!

I stayed up to try see how the shadowy figure gets into my room, but I finally passed out around 2am. But then, I felt something caress my skin and all of a sudden it was very cold. I wake up and I don't see anything. I go over to my window and its wide open this time, not cracked like it usually is. I close my window and lock it, and I lay down. What is going on? Should I call the police? But yeah, okay, what do I tell them, someone keeps coming into my bedroom, okay ma'am, what do they look like? I'm not sure, they don't really have a face, they're a shadow. What? Yeah, I can see that whole conversation going down. They commit me to the looney hospital, no, absolutely not!!! Can't go to the police, so what do I do? What do I.....

"Hello Julia."

The shadowy figure had slipped into my room. And all of a sudden, it's not as cold anymore.

"I know you have questions, and I'm here to answer them."

"What do you want from me?"

"To protect to you from the Relentless Man."

"The Relentless Man. Who is that?"

"He's a demon. And when he has found a muse, someone he's addicted to, someone he wants, he will be very persistent, consistent, and non-stop, hence the name Relentless Man. He will kill you Julia, I've seen it. I've seen you die, and I cannot let that happen.

"Wait, deamons are real?"

"Yes, very much so Julia."

"And this demon wants to kill me?"

"Yes Julia. He's been in and out if your room for 6 months now. And I've been tracking him for years. When he has his sights on a woman he will seduce them and then kills them. He's a very dangerous deamon because he's unpredictable.

"Wait, someone has been in and out of my room for 6 months and I'm just now realizing it? How is that? Why is that?

"Because he's gotten bold, he wants you to be scared, he's trying to get into your head, so he can attempt to seduce you. He's getting ready to kill you Julia and I can sense it."

"So wait, are you a demon?"

"Kind of, yes."

"What do you mean kind of?"

I sit up and kind of scoot away from the figure. This is crazy. A deamon is after me? Why? And this shadowy figure is a deamon too? But why is it protecting me? And the other demon, why is it a man? As if I don't already scream I'm gay as hell. I dress like a man, walk like a man, like come on, why would he try to seduce me, unless he feels like this is a challenge? I mean he is called the Relentless Man, so maybe he's being relentless because he sees me as a challenge. But a challenge he eventually wins because the shadowy figure says it has seen my death and that's why it is here, to protect me.

"Yes, he does see you as a challenge, but I don't think he knows your gay, hell, I didn't know you're gay, well this is interesting. But anyways, I told you I never want to hurt you or bring hard to you Julia, and I meant that. I'm never going to hurt you, okay?"

Wait, shit, is it a mind reader too?

"Yes I am. Get some sleep Julia, we'll talk more tomorrow."

I reached out for the shadowy figure, but it was gone. My head is spinning. A deamon is after me and will eventually kill me. But another deamon is here to protect me? Why would this deamon protect me? What does it want from me?

I try to go back to sleep, but my head is just spinning with so many questions. I finally get up and WINDOW! Its cracked a little. I close it and lock it. DEAMONS!!! I walk around the house to see if anything is out of the ordinary, my door is locked and the latch is locked too. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. I fix some breakfast and then I clean up around the house to try to take my mind off of things, but that doesn't help at all! I need something to take my mind off of all of this deamon stuff. I need a.....

*ring ring*

"Hello?"

"Hey girl!"

"Clarity, hey! How are you?"

"Good how are you?"

"I'm okay I think, I don't know, I just feel weird and just kind of uneasy I guess."

"Oh, no, well I'm glad I called. Let's fix that weirdness and uneasiness and let's go out tonight. Me you, and a couple of people from work."

"You know, I would really like that actually!"

"Yes perfect, the regular spot at 8?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, see you then Julia. And don't flake either."

"I won't, I promise."

I need this more than Clarity knows it. I need this distraction. I need a good time and some alchohol. Now, I just need to figure out what I'm going to wear.

"Hey Julia, over here."

"Hey guys!"

"So glad you came Julia, was starting to think you were flaking on us."

"Me too Clarity!"

"Hey Julia. So good to see you."

"Hey Brad. How are you?"

"Good now that you're here. You look amazing girl, like goodness."

"Thank you Brad."

"You're so welcome. Would you like to dance?"

"I'm not much of a dancer, but thank you though."

"Well let me buy you a drink."

"Okay."

A drink, turns into two drinks, then turns into four, then next thing I know I'm drunk as hell.

"Julia, are you okay?"

"Yeah, my head is spinning but, other than that...."

*thump*

"Here's some aspirin and some water sleeping beauty."

"Brad, how did you get into my house? And why is it so cold in here?"

"You passed out at the bar silly. I took you home and got you in the bed and dropped the temperature down in here. You were burning up. Probably because all that alcohol you had. How do you feel?"

"Oh goodness. I feel like such an idiot. I promise I don't drink this much, like ever, I just have a lot going on right now."

"Like what? Talk to me, you know you can always talk to me. Also, please take the aspirin and drink this water. I know you have a headache."

"I do, my head is pounding. And can you turn up the temperature up, I'm freezing!"

"Absolutely, let me do that now."

Brad walks off to turn up the temperature. How does he know where I live? Maybe Clarity told him? I don't know, everything just seems so fuzzy and hazy. Why did I drink that much? This whole deamon thing really has my head messed up. I just need to breathe and relax and just hope that the Relentless Man didn't make an appearance last night. Oh shit, did the shadowy figure come by? Goodness gracious, did Brad see anything?

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"My head hurts and its spinning, but I'm okay."

"You need to eat, I could fix you something or grab you something."

"Brad, I really appreciate all of this, I do, but I'm good, really. Thank you so much for everything, I truly appreciate it, but you can go now, I can take care of myself."

Brad comes and sits on the bed next to me.

"Julia, are you sure, I don't mind staying and taking care of such a cutie like you. You had a lot to drink last night, and I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm okay, really, thank you though."

Brad gets closer to me in the bed.

"You know, I've liked you for quite sometime now, and you were super flirty with me last night and I don't know if that was the alchohol, or just your hidden feelings, but I would really like to take you out sometime. I wanted to kiss you last night, but I thought that would be wrong, but I could kiss you now."

Brad leans in and I jump up from my bed.

"Brad, what are you doing?"

"Trying to kiss you of course. You were super flirty."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember any of that, but Brad, we're just friends and I don't want to ruin that."

Brad gets out of the bed and walks closer to me. He looks me into my eyes.

"Come on, I know you like me."

"BRAD, I'M FUCKING GAY DUDE! I LIKE, NO I LOVE WOMEN! WOMEN, JUST WOMEN ONLY, OKAY? You're my friend, that's it, just my friend. Now can you please go. I'm fine, and I can take care of myself."

Brad looks at me, he gives me a very angrily and dissatisfied look. He backs away, and leaves.

I go into the kitchen and try to make some breakfast, but I end up throwing up and getting back into the bed. I must have passed out because now it's dark outside. Goodness, what time is it? 11:30pm, but it was just 11:17 am, where did the time go? I get up and wash my face a little and drink some water and climb back into the bed. But as I'm trying to get comfortable, I notice its suddenly cold in my room. Oh no, it's the Relentless Man!

"Come out deamon, I'm not scared of you. I know you're in here."

I look around and I don't see anything, but I hear a sneaky laugh.

"You're not scared of me? Oh, Julia, you should be though."

"You don't scare me deamon, not one bit!"

"Hmm, does this scare you now?"

The deamon charges at me and scratches my arm. I punch what seems like the air, but I hear a thump on the ground, then I hear something escape out of my window. I get up to look outside my window and I see nothing. I close my window and lock it. Owww, that hurts. I go into the bathroom, cut my light on and look at my scratches. But I hear something at the window again. Oh no, it's the deamon again. I grab the first thing I can reach and I head for my window, but instead I see a woman. A tall beautiful red headed woman. She has beautiful green eyes and her body is muscular. She is just perfect. But wait, who is she and how did she get in my room?

"Who are you? Stand back, I will hurt you!"

"With a disposal razor Julia, really?"

I look down and realize shit, who was I going to kill with a disposal razor.

"Yes, I can slice your beautiful and perfect face up with this razor. Now who are you and what do you want?"

"Scratch? Oh no, you've been hurt. Please, please let me help. I'm sorry I didn't get here in time. I was trying to, but the Relentless Man knew I was on his trail and he sent three of his deamon dogs after me. They are the worst by the way. I tried to watch over you last night, but he was here all night, guarding you, and making sure no one entered, not even me. So I kept a close distance to make sure he didn't harm you, but he's harmed you. And I've failed, I never wanted any harm to come to you. And I told you I was here to protect you."

How does she know about the Relentless man. And she knows he's a deamon? Who is she? Wait, no, is she the shadowy figure? She can't be because she doesn't look all shadowy anymore, and she definitely doesn't look like a deamon.

"Half deamon, remember. I didn't tell you, the other part, but I'm half deamon, half angel. This is my angel's true from, the shadowy figure is my deamon's true form. My dad was a deamon, looking for mischief when he came across my mom, an angel. And they fell in love, even though their love was forbidden, and then they had me. So here am."

She's so beautiful, but she's half angel, half deamon? That's crazy! But she's so freaking hot and owww. My arm is throbbing. I don't, I don't feel so.....

*thump*

I wake up the next morning in my bed, still naked, but at least its not freezing cold this time. I sit up and look around, the half deamon, half angel is starting right at me, studying my every move. I look down at my arm and its healed. No scratches, no blood, no scar, no nothing. Miraculous, but how did that happen? Did she heal it?

"Yes I did. How are you feeling Julia?"

"Dammit, I keep forgetting you can read my mind. I'm doing okay, I think."

She comes closer to me and sits on the bed.

"What's your name?"

"Amelia."

"That's a very pretty name for a very pretty lady."

"Well, thank you, Julie. I've cooked you some breakfast, come, you need to eat something."

She grabs my hand and pulls me out of the bed. Shit, I'm naked!!!

"I've seen you naked plenty of times, this isn't the first time, now come on please."

Oh? I wonder does she like what she sees? Stop it!! We walk to the kitchen and she's made my favorite, ham and cheese omelette with bacon, toast, and orange juice. Yeah, she's definitely been watching me. I demolish the breakfast. It was so good. She's an amazing cook! I stare at her. She's so freaking pretty and goodness she's so attractive. I want to kiss her, but I don't know if she'd be into that.

Amelia stares at my lips and leans in for a kiss

It was so deep and passionate. Amelia clears everything off the table and picks me up and lays me on top of the table. She gets on top of me and starts to make out with me. She then makes her way down to my neck and starts to nibble and suck on it. Then she works her way down to my nipples, sucking on them. She's so gentle for a deamon. But then she's also an angel so thats probably where the gentle part comes in. Focus, she can read your thoughts fool. Amelia snickers and continues to suck on my nipples. And then she picks me up and carries me into the bedroom. She throws me on the bed, ties me up, and goes to work.

"I'm so sorry. I couldn't help myself. I've been wanting to do all of this for a really long time now."

"Oh, really now?"

"Yes Julia. I really like you, I really do. And after all of this is over, after I kill the Rentless Man, I would really like to take you out on a proper date."

"Really? I mean, uh, yes, I would really, uh, like that, like, a lot!!"

Amelia giggles

"You're so cute when you get all nervous. You're just so cute period! Especially when you......"

Amelia jumps up, and turns into a the shadowy figure.

"Julia, put some clothes on, and get into the closet, NOW!"

I jump up and put some clothes on and hide in the closet. What happened? She must have sensed something, but what? I don't close the closet door all the way, I peep and I see something tampering with my window. And then I see something climb through my window. I can't really see what it is. Damn, it's really freaking cold now. Oh wait, its him, it's the Relentless Man. That's what Amelia sensed.

I can see a figure with him, hes a tall man. He's not a shadow like Amelia is. The Relentless Man walks around my bed and then looks under it. Then he sniffs the air and his eyes roll back. He starts walking towards me. Shit, did he see me? Shit, shit, shit, shit!!!! He keeps walking until I hear a get away from her Relentless Man. I start to peep again and I see the shadowy figure of Amelia totally manhandle this deamon. It's kind of hot really. She throws him up against the wall and pulls out this curved knife. The Relentless Man then knocks the knife out of her hand and knocks her down. He picks up the curved knife and stabs Amelia.

"Noooo!!!!!" I screamed

Shit, well, now I'm dead. The Relentless Man walks towards the closet and open it. He reaches his hands in and pulls me out. I try to back away from him and try to look for a weapon, any weapon, but nothing, nothing is around me but darkness, and Amelia's lifeless body.

"Where are you going Julia? There's nowhere to go, and nowhere to hide."

This must be it, this must be how Amelia saw me die. I keep backing up and I finally look up at the Relentless Man, if he was going to kill me, I needed to know what the man who was going to kill me looked like. I look into his eyes and I cannot believe what I'm seeing.

"BRAD!??"

"Julia, hello my little scrumptious friend."

"Brad what the hell? You're the deamon? You're the Relentless Man?"

"Yes, yes I am, and now I have to kill you. You've seen too much and you know too much. And you denied me! NO ONE DENIES THE RELENTLESS MAN AND LIVES!"

I try to get up and run but Brad grabs me by my ankles and pulls me closer to him. He turns me over and gets on top of me. I try kicking him and scratching him, but it doesn't work. I'm about to die, let's face it.

"Any last words Julia?"

"Yeah, get off my girlfriend!"

Amelia stabs Brad with the curved knife in the back and he disintegrates. There's now ash and something else all over me. I should be in shock, but surprisingly, I'm okay. More than anything I'm happy, I'm very happy that Amelia is alive!

"Julia, are you okay?"

"Am I okay? Are you okay? I saw you get stabbed. I thought you were dead.

"No, I can heal myself, it just takes a minute or two. I'm okay, you don't have to worry, okay? Let's get you up and get you cleaned off."

Amelia helps me up, then picks me up and puts me into the shower. We both shower off together and once our faces are cleaned, we have a hot and steamy make out session, among other things. We finally get out of the shower and she tells me to get into the bed. She cleans up the mess and disposes of Brad's ashes properly so he doesn't have any chance of coming back. Then she lays in the bed with me and pulls me closer to her. Amelia caresses my hair and skin and kisses me repeatedly. I fall asleep in her arms. The deamon who was after me is dead, no more cold spells, and I have a half deamon, half angel girlfriend, who is smoking hot, it doesn't get any better than this.

[oxatouchofthewickedxo]

Saturn’s Return

this post is more for my own benefit bc my memory sucks so you can stop reading now if ya want.

so a while back when i watched parks and recreation all the way through for the first time, i got very intrigued by the conversation that donna and april had about the concept of saturn’s return. which if you don’t know, saturn will return to the exact spot it was when you were born around 27-29 years later. apparently this is a time for rebirth and renewal as well as a shedding of your child self so you can begin the process of growing up and becoming an adult.

not too long after that, i happened to be really paying attention to the lyrics of “the grudge” by tool in which maynard talks about saturn ascending and forcing you to make a choice in your life. didn’t really do much research on it at the time because i was actually in the bath tub while listening to it and like i said, my memory is terrible so by the time i got out and got dressed, it slipped my mind.

last night, my best friend came over to my fiance & i’s house and somehow this concept of saturn’s return came up in conversation which sparked the tool song in my head again. i began to look into it and apparently this theory is extremely prevalent in the land o’ tool. i’m just gonna list the things that may be all in my head but considering maynard and the insanity of all that tool is, i highly doubt it:

1. at least 2 songs have this concept as a theme: the grudge and jambi

2. 10,000 days is the title of an album as well as a song. saturn’s return takes roughly 10,000 days.

3. opiate came out in 1992, 10,000 days came out in 2006, and fear inoculum came out this year, 2019. so in my opinion, opiate is like the birth of tool, 10,000 days come out 14 years later which suggests they are midway through their journey as a band, then in 2019 which is 27 years later, saturn returns and tool as we know them have reached their peak. so i believe that if tool does in fact make another album after this, they may not be the tool we are all used to. 

4. lateralus is 78 minutes and 51 seconds long. 78 minus 51 is 27.

5. the grudge is 8 minutes and 36 seconds long, 36-8 is 28.

please note that i do realize that lateralus came out before 10,000 days but i am just pointing out the constant use of these numbers throughout the band’s history. if i didn’t know maynard the way that i do, i would think these were all just coincidences but i have learned so many times throughout the last 9 years that there literally are NO coincidences in this band. everything has meaning. LITERALLY everything.

as far as my personal experiences with saturn’s return, i truly believe this is a real thing. my fiance was 28 years old when we met in 2010 and he turned 29 3 months later. this was a time of internal struggle, self discovery, and straight up insanity for him. he had been using crack for about 4 years at this point and was at this precipice with it where he literally hated how the drug made him feel but his addiction would get the best of him every time and he would end up using. however, something came over him one day and he decided that he wasn’t going to let this happen anymore so he voluntarily went to rehab and he came home a new man. sure, there have been a couple of slip ups here and there, but no binges and definitely a different type of regret afterwards. literally from that moment that he made his mind up to better himself, he has been a completely different person. he is the most incredible human being i know and i am so grateful for whatever clicked in his brain to make him change.

flash forward to now and i am currently 29 years old and the last 4 months have been the most life shaping ones of my life. on august 13th of this year i got fired from my job. 2 weeks later, the cops showed up at our house looking for me. luckily, i had literally just left 5 minutes before this so i didn’t end up in jail. turns out there was a warrant out for my arrest due to a driving under suspension charge i had gotten in may when i got pulled over for speeding. i had absolutely no idea my license was suspended by the way. but anyway, i completely forgot to go to my court date and for some reason, they never sent me anything about the rescheduled one so hence the warrant. due to the fact that not only was i unemployed, but also the cops showed up twice in one day, my fiance’s grandparents told him i could no longer live in our house which we rent from them and is behind theirs. they are super old school so the minute anything like this happens, they think the worst. i had nowhere else to go, so i in the blink of an eye was homeless. prior to losing my job, i had been going to the methadone clinic for over a year in order to get off heroin. because i could no longer afford my methadone, i immediately fell back in with my heroin dealer who was like my big brother, so instead of giving me dope for money, he gave me dope for rides to work. so here i was, homeless, back on heroin, and completely uncaring and oblivious to the shit hole i had dug for myself. all of this led to me driving 2.5 hours to my father’s house on october 11th. i came completely clean with my dad, told him about all the horrible things i had been doing over the last few years, and begged him to let me stay with him for a while in order to get my shit together which i thought was very doable since i was no longer in my city around drugs and enablers. instead though, my dad’s solution was to ship me off to a 12 MONTH LONG FAITH BASED “recovery program.” i should add that i do not believe in the christian god at all and think that organized religion is a joke and he knows this about me. to make matters worse, they also did not allow me to have ANY correspondence with my fiance who i have been with for 9 years and has been my ONLY support system during this time. i am talking no phone calls, no visits, and not even letters back and forth. as if all that wasn’t enough to make me want to kill myself, they also didn’t offer any type of medically assisted detox. i was told all that would be available to me was ibuprofen, rest, and water. if you’ve never gone through opiate withdrawal, then you have no freaking clue about the hell that i was about to be in for. i can’t even put what dope sickness feels like into words. it is literally the worst thing i have ever experienced in my life. i wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. there’s a lyric from the highly suspect song “bath salts” that kind of describes it perfectly....”6 AM, there goes the moon, i feel like death is coming soon & oh, all i wanna do is fucking sleep.” which is about damn right because you feel like you are dying and no matter what you do, you can’t sleep. no amount of downers or sleeping pills can calm those restless legs bruh. but anyway...i am getting off track. i knew going into this bullshit that i wasn’t going to make it. not because of me wanting to use again, but because i was going to have jesus literally crammed down my throat and the absence of matthew from my life for a year was just NOT going to happen. adding insult to injury, the day i went into this god forsaken place was october 14th, ONE FUCKING DAY before our 9 year anniversary. the only thing i even wanna say about my time at this place right now was that they are satists because they would only give me ibuprofen, etc. once a day, i was only allowed to “rest” the first 3 days i was there and this rest was either laying across the world’s most uncomfortable chairs or on the freezing ass cold floor of a fucking church sanctuary. anyways, on the weekends we were FORCED to go all over the east coast in small groups to fundraise in order to “earn our keep”...we had to do this for 13 hours a day every friday and saturday. fast forward to my 2nd weekend there and my 2nd day of my 2nd fundraiser. i’m not sure what came over me, but something inside me snapped. i reached my “i cannot take this shit anymore” point. we went inside the walmart we were fundraising at and i stole one of those small personal boxes of wine, went into the bathroom, and shotgunned the fuck out of this thing. once we were back outside at our table, i waited until it was my turn to “man” the table and my leader’s turn to “work the door” and i went into her bookbag & stole the $550 we had raised the day before. i then asked her if i could go get my tennis shoes out of the van and when i did that, i also grabbed my id and social security card out of my wallet. a couple of minutes later, i asked for a bathroom break which we were not allowed to take alone, so as soon as she went inside a stall, i turned around and ran like a crazy person out of that store & across the street to metro pcs to get a cell phone. after that, i went to walgreens where i got a prepaid debit card and ordered a lyft to a hotel where i got a room for the night. once i got settled, i first made plans with my dealer to come home and get up with him. we looked into me taking a lyft home but that would have cost $200 so we decided i would wait til the morning and take a bus. not sure what it was but something kept telling me that it was a horrible idea to do all of that. it kept getting stronger and when my gut talks to me like that, i listen, so i knew i needed a plan b. i don’t know what put this thought in my head, but i decided to call this guy i had worked with a few years ago. i worked at a pest control company as a schedule coordinator and he was one of the technicians i scheduled for. we lived in different states, about 4 hours away from one another, but we talked on the phone constantly obviously. during the time i worked there, we grew incredibly close and even after i stopped working there, we maintained a relationship and anytime he had to come to my city, which is where the corporate office is located, we would get together. in 2016, i even cheated on my fiance with him. this kid was head over heels in love with me, but i never felt the same way, but me being my typical bitchy self, i preyed on that to my advantage. he and i hadn’t spoken since shortly after we hooked up in 2016, but he literally jumped in his car the moment i asked and was on the way to come get me. unfortunately, his car broke down on the interstate like 45 minutes after he left, so i ended up getting a bus ticket to where he lives the next morning. he came and got me at the bus station and all of a sudden, i was in a different state, 4 hours from home, and living with a man who was not my fiance whom at this point i hadn’t even called yet. i was terrified to tell him about what i had done because i was so ashamed. i didn’t want to disappoint him yet again because at this point, that’s all i was doing. fast forward to 2 weeks later and my fiance found out that i had decided i was going to stay where i was and be with this other dude because i had convinced myself i didn’t need him and that i was living my best life, so of course, he stopped talking to me and said he was done. for 5 days, i didn’t try to contact him or even look at my phone, but one night while the new guy was at work, i was laying in bed watching how i met your mother and seeing marshall and lily made me miss my fiance on a physically painful level. so, i finally caved and turned my phone on even though i knew that any communication from him was going to be negative and horribly mean. instead though, i only had one message from him and it was the sweetest msg ever saying he was going to always love me and be waiting for me if i wanted him, but he wasn’t going to interfere with my happiness if this new dude made me happy. i immediately called him and we stayed on the phone for 2 hours during which we made the plan for him to come rescue me. that was on a tuesday and we planned for him to come pick me up the following monday. those were the longest 5 days of my life. when we finally were together again, he picked me up, i wrapped my legs around him, and we kissed. it was at that moment i knew that he is my fucking home. there will never be anyone for me but him. those 37 days without him were the most agonizing days of my life and i swear i will never be away from him again. 

so to bring this to a close, my saturn’s return literally returned me to my home in the literal and figurative sense. i have learned more about myself and about what life is about in the last 4 months than i ever have in my 29 years of life. things are far from perfect right now, but i am somehow at peace because for once, i listened to my heart instead of trying to please everyone else. i can’t explain to you the realizations i have come to in these last few weeks, but i am beyond clear headed and i know without a doubt i did the right thing for my sanity. this saturn’s return shit is real and is no fucking joke.

PS....AS OF 12/12/19, I WILL BE OFF OF OPIATES FOR 2 MONTHS AND THAT IS THE LONGEST CLEAN TIME I HAVE HAD FROM THEM IN 8 FUCKING YEARS SO AYYYYYYE! lol