#not that they’re ever gonna legalize meth but you know what I mean

[blackthornass]

One thing I enjoy about the legalization of weed in Minnesota was that with it being smack dab in the middle of states legalizing weed nobody is coming here for Legal Weed Tourism so in most towns there aren’t dedicated Weed Stores but like weed is legal and people want to buy it so where do you sell it? And the answer that the great state of Minnesota mostly came to was: smokable weed and weed smoking equipment gets sold at tobacco stores. Edible weed gets sold at liquor stores. So a Tobacco Store is less a store where you go to get tobacco and more a store you go to to get things you smoke, and a Liquor Store is less a store where you go to get alcohol and more a store where you go to get drugs that are also groceries

[brandyllyn]

War makes thieves, and peace hangs them (pt1)

Summary: When Santi needs people for a mission he knows just who to call. But it quickly becomes apparent they’re short one key role - a thief. Preferably one with nice breasts who makes friends easily.

Told from POV of Triple Frontier characters and while it’s an OFC she is never described. Her "name" is a radio handle. 

Other chapters... My Masterlist

Word count: 2319. Read it on AO3.

Author’s note: Look, I’ve been itching to write something hella raunchy and while I love my other fics they’re full of soft people being dorks and falling love. This is not that. This is filthy smut basically from the go. The plot (what of it there is) exists solely to allow these people to have sex. Also, Fuck Tom. He’s in this fic for like 90 seconds before I summarily get rid of him.

Rating: R swearing. objectification. drugs (mentioned, not used). gendered slurs. no sex in this chapter.

"It’s a five man job," Santi was saying it for the third time that night but Benny just kept shaking his head at him. Across from Benny, Frankie pushes his ball cap off, tossing his arm over his chair and letting it dangle from two fingers.

"C’mon you guys," Frankie starts to say but is cut off.

"Maybe, but not this five," Will points out.

"You had no right to call in someone else without talking to me," Santi can feel the edge to his voice.

"Am I wrong?"

The question deflates the irritation out of Santi. No, he wasn’t. That was the shitty part. The more they found out about this job the more he realized they were going to need someone with a different skillset than the five of them. "Fine, who is he? How do you know him?"

"We ran into each other in South Africa. Ended up on the same job, different sides," Benny taps a finger against his beer bottle. "A few other, less than legal, follow-ups. They’re the best I know of Santi."

"Yeah," Santi picks his bottle up, draining the last of it. "But all things considered I’m not sure that means much."

Benny rolls his eyes. "Whatever man, they’ll be here tonight. I’ll introduce you and you can make your own decision. Fair?"

Santi nods once and watches as Benny gets up. "I’ll get the next round." The other men waggle their beers and Benny doesn’t even bother counting before heading off the empty outside patio and back into the bar.

It was a quiet night, at a quiet out of the way bar. From their vantage on the patio over the water they can see people as they arrive, but also are surrounded on three sides by water, minimizing eavesdroppers.

"I don’t like it," Tom grumbles and Santi turns to him.

"I feel like we’ve covered that," he points out.

"Some new guy we don’t know? Fuck Pope, this whole thing is already too dangerous," Tom continues.

"What do you want me to do," he hisses. "I’ve come too fucking far to back out-"

He pauses when he hears the door to the patio open, a waitress coming through with a tray of beers. He’d clocked her from the corner of his eye, about eight miles of the longest legs he’s ever seen in his life, bare from tiny denim shorts down to a pair of unlaced combat boots.

Those were odd. Not necessarily what he would have expected. He studies her a bit more closely as she sets the tray of beers down, squatting next to the table to transfer the tray from her shoulder to the table. Tom had already fallen face first into the girl’s cleavage - which was either ample or benefitting greatly from being on display in a bright orange halter top that started somewhere around her rib cage. She returned Tom’s lascivious stare with a wink, brushing her body against the man’s as she stood back up and passed one of the bottles to him.

Santi reached for one but was blocked by her body as she leaned across the table, sliding a bottle to Frankie who rubbed a hand over his mouth and tried in vain to make eye contact with something other than her breasts. Will was silent on receiving his, a half smile on his face as he watched her stretch a bottle to him. Finally she turns to Santi, placing the last beer in front of him and flipping the tray up under her arm.

"Tu amigo pagó," she smiles, gesturing with her chin inside. He glances that way and sees Benny nodding back from the bar, tucking bills into his wallet. "Tienes algo…" she starts to say and he turns back to see her pluck a bit of fuzz off the collar of his shirt. Smiling, she pinches it between her fingers and flicks it over his shoulder. "De nada."

"Gracias," he winks at her and she winks back before flouncing off the patio and back into the bar. Both Frankie and Tom turn around fully in their chairs to watch her - but Santi was perfectly positioned to watch the sway of her ass as she went back inside.

"Hot damn," Tom gives a low whistle.

Santi rolls his eyes, focusing on the beer in front of him. To his left, Frankie is fiddling with a coaster before he suddenly jerks and looks at his hand with suspicion.

"What the fuck?" Frankie snaps. "Where the fuck is my hat?"

"What?" Will asks.

"My hat. My fucking hat." Frankie holds up the coaster and glares at it, then at Santi. "Where is my fucking hat?"

"Did you set it-" Santi starts but Frankie cuts him off.

"I was holding it in my goddamn hand. And now I’m not." Frankie pushes himself back from the table, peering under it.

"What’s got Fish riled up?" Benny asks, sliding into a chair on the other side of the table.

"He’s throwing a fit about his hat," Will fills him in.

"Fuck you, I liked that hat," Frankie grouses, eyes still scanning the floor.

Ben laughs and Frankie shoots him a dirty look. "Ah, I see you’ve met our thief then," Benny says with a satisfied smirk.

"What?" Frankie jerks forward, the legs of his chair hitting the wood of the deck with a thunk.

Santi cocks his head, "You set up a little audition did you?" When Benny nods Santi grins. "The waitress?" Will nods again and gestures to someone inside. A minute later, the woman pulls up a chair next to Ben - wearing Frankie’s hat. He had to admit, she looked cute. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her face before, a little preoccupied with other parts of her, but she was quite stunning.

"You should give Frankie his hat back," Santi tells her in a low voice.

"Nah," Frankie quickly interjects, a little slack-jawed. "You can uh… you can keep it. For a bit." She grins at Frankie and judging from the look on his friend’s face, Santi had an idea of what mental image Frankie would be jerking off to later that night.

"Boys, this is Wildcat," Ben wraps an arm over the woman’s shoulders, "the best thief I’ve ever met. And ours for this mission."

"Neat trick with the hat," Tom says to her breasts.

"Not to burst your bubble Benny," she turns to him, "but I can’t take the job."

"What? Why not?"

She reaches into her top and while Santi would have sworn that you couldn’t fit so much as a tic-tac in there she manages to pull out a small baggie of off-white crystal powder. A flick of her wrist and it lands in the middle of the table. "I don’t deal with this kind of shit."

Santi reaches for it, getting there just before Tom who mutters 'bitch' under his breath. Holding it up for a moment he studies it before hiding it under his palm on the table. "Who’d you take it from?"

"Me," Tom sounds defeated.

"Yeah, like I said, I don’t deal with this kind of shit." She turns to Benny and shrugs, "Sorry babe, you’ll have to find someone else." She gets up, leaning over the table and placing the ball cap back on Frankie’s head and giving it a flirtatious tap. From his angle, Santi can see practically the same view as Frankie, as well as the line of her back and the curve of her ass as she leans over.

She kisses the top of Ben’s head when she stands up, giving Tom a wide berth and going around the table. Santi doesn’t watch her past that, eyes on Tom.

"What the fu-" but he’s interrupted by something shiny dropping onto the table.

"Sorry," her voice was right next to his ear, "forgot this."

It takes Santi a full five seconds to process what he’s seeing. One of his dog tags. He pulls his chain out of his shirt quickly, sees the primary one… and the loose shorter chain hanging empty.

"Son of a-" he turns but she’s at the door already, winking and blowing him a kiss before leaving.

"Pope let me-" Tom starts but Santi turns on him.

"Fucking meth, man? What’s wrong with you?"

"Hey, it’s just a bit to help me keep going," Tom raises his hands, "don’t fucking act like it’s the end of the fucking world."

"You’re out," Santi says it with finality.

"What?"

"Anyone have a problem with that?" Santi looks at the other three men but they all shake their heads.

"Fuck you," Tom spits, "fucking Fish has a coke problem and I don’t see any of you-"

"Hey," Frankie leans forward, pointing a finger at Tom, "you can go fuck yourself."

"Not if I-"

But Santi is on his feet, hands in Tom’s shirt as he walks the man backwards a few steps and shoves him against the low railing on the patio. "I love you man, but I can’t have this shit. It’s too important. Go back to the hotel."

Tom deflates. "It’s just to help man. Just to help."

"I know," he pats Tom on the shoulder. "I know. But you’re gonna have to sit this one out." Santi watches the other man leave. "Go get her back," he tells Ben.

Will swipes the baggie from the table, raising an eyebrow in question and Santi nods. Will quickly turns and tosses it into the lake beyond.

She slid into Tom’s chair without so much as a twitch of her eyebrow that the other man is gone. "Are we trying again?"

Santi sits down to her left. "First tell me how you got my dog tags."

"And my hat," Frankie asks.

"Quick fingers," she says, "two distractions."

"Two?" Frankie asks and she winks at him.

"One. Two." She shrugs each shoulder, making her breasts jiggle with the motion. Frankie blushes and reaches up to cover his face with one hand, pretending to scratch his beard.

"Seriously," Santi grabs her attention again, "how’d you do it?"

She shrugs again, "People don’t watch for the things they should be watching for. You guys… you’re perceptive. Situationally aware. You could probably tell me every weapon within sixty feet of this table." She smiles, "You’ve noticed my hand on your arm, and you’ve noticed my foot against your ankle." He had, was enjoying the feel of her fingers against his skin and her toes rubbing along his sock. "But where is my other hand?"

Santi startles, looking down. Her other hand comes into his line of sight and he sees she’s holding a watch.

"Wait that’s-" Will splutters.

"Son of a bitch," he mutters and hears Ben laugh. He turns on Will, "What were you watching?"

She answers for him, "He’s been watching my mouth." Will coughs but doesn’t deny it. She grins at them both before leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, waggling her fingers. "Figure out where someone wants their attention to go and you can make them concentrate on anything."

Santi bites his lip before he looks over at Benny. "You trust her?" Ben nods. "Then she’ll do."

"Oh goodie," she snarks, "a dream come true. So what’s the job?"

Santi lowers his voice as he outlines the next few days. She asks good questions and the five of them roughly map out their plans. When they finish, Santi leans back in his chair. "So, we’ll meet in the hotel lobby tomorrow morning, 0600?" Everyone around him nods except for Ben who just curses.

"Fucking hell Pope, you know I hate mornings."

Will rolls his eyes, smacking his brother in the arm, "How the hell did you get through Airborne with an attitude like that?"

"By being a damned good Ranger," Ben grouses back.

"And cheating on the written shit," Frankie mumbles into his beer. Ben shoots him a glower but Frankie just smiles to himself, ignoring the other man.

"Well, if you boys are done," Cat breaks in, "I have a date." For just a split second Santi thought she was looking at him, but he follows her gaze over his shoulder and sees a petite brunette wearing a leather mini-skirt and white tank top crooking a finger their way. Cat winks back at her and rises gracefully from the table, palms flat against it. He couldn’t help but notice her long fingers.

When she gets to the other woman she wraps a hand behind her neck, pulling the brunette into a kiss. Even in heels, the woman was a good three inches shorter than her. The brunette breaks the kiss and leans into her, whispering into her ear. Santi sees her eyebrow go up, a half smile, and then she was looking back at their table and those beautiful legs were coming their way.

"Ben?"

"Yes Cat?" the man answers with a raised eyebrow.

"Can you vouch for your friends?"

Benny doesn’t hesitate before answering, "With my life."

"That’s good to hear," she grins. "Frankie?"

The man’s head whips around. "Yeah?"

"Would you like to come with us?"

Frankie blinks and Santi almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.

"Wha-?"

"Teresa would like for you to come along. And I’m not opposed. So…?"

Frankie’s moment of confusion passes in a heartbeat and then he is shoving his chair back and scrambling to his feet. "Fuck yes."

She laughs, leading him back to the brunette who is grinning. The brunette wraps one arm around Frankie’s waist and the other around Cat’s as they leave. The three men left at the table watch them go in varying stages of disbelief.

"Lucky son of a bitch," Will mutters and Santi can’t help but nod.

"Some thief you found us Ben," Santi says into his beer as he leans back in his chair.

"She’s the best," Ben grins back. Part2

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,835 Words

Summary: Off to a chaotic start, I see. Bakugou gets dared to start a 1-A group chat. The beginnings, Shinsou gains a father figure, and the bakusquad is chaotic.

Warnings: Dead Body Mention, Death Mention, Cursing, Anxiety Attack Mention, Caps, Mental Breakdown Mention, Fire Mention, Choking Mention, Injury Mention, Murder Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Notes: Shigaraki's alias in the group chat is Ren and Dabi's alias is Haruhi. ¥11,055 is about $100 and ¥110,550 is about $1,000 on the day I wrote this.

Usernames: Area 51   Ashido: aggressive chicken dance, Kaminari: pikachoo, Kirishima: ordained, Jirou: neko neko kneecaps, Sero: wine and cheerios, Bakugou: mother i crave violence, Shinsou: its a mental breakdown

Usernames: Emo Sanctuary  Jirou: tell tale heart, Tokoyami: eldritch peep, Todoroki: i love you 3000, Bakugou: knife tag, Midoriya: bitchasaurus, Shinsou: unhappy meal, Kuroiro: meth and deadamine, Shigaraki: depresso extra shot, Dabi: *sad kazoo*

Into The Group Chat We Go: Chapter 1

1:45 AM

Emo Sanctuary

i love you 3000: I require attention.

unhappy meal: is that so?

i love you 3000: Yes, it is, otherwise I wouldn't have said it.

unhappy meal: @bitchasaurus, your man is sad.

bitchasaurus: He's not my man, Shinsou. Pretty sure he's no one's man, actually. And it's not like I'd have time for a relationship anyway.

i love you 3000: True. I'm not in a relationship.

unhappy meal: regardless, get your friend. the man wants attention.

bitchasaurus and i love you 3000 are now offline

*sad kazoo*: I dare someone to start a group chat with 1a and say something weird.

knife tag: Would I get paid for this?

*sad kazoo*: I'll give you anywhere from 11,05 yen to 110,550 yen.

knife tag: Deal.

2:00 AM

Bakugou has started a group chat

Bakugou has added Hanta, Mina, Eijiro, Denki, and 15 others to the chat

Bakugou has renamed the group chat to Area 51

Bakugou: His body is ready to be taxidermied. It's what Shinsou would've wanted.

Sero: What the fucketh?

Aoyama: Quoi?

Midoriya is now online

Midoriya: You didn't add Shinsou, you ass.

Bakugou: Oops, fuck.

Bakugou has added Shinsou to Area 51

Shinsou: hi I guess.

Aoyama: So your corpse is not being stuffed by Bakugou at the moment?

Shinsou: I mean, he can always taxidermy me while I'm alive. it's not like I'd stop him.

Midoriya: He's not. Kacchan was dared with cash to start this group chat and say something weird. Goodnight, filthy heathens.

Midoriya is now offline

Ojiro: Wow, Midoriya isn't messing around.

Aoyama: I feel ✨insulted✨ being called a filthy heathen.

Ojiro: I mean, it is an insult, Aoyama.

Aoyama: Yes, Ojiro, I understood that.

Sero: Why on earth are you two awake?

Ojiro: Because I can't sleep?

Aoyama: I got hungry.

Sero: Well, go to bed.

2:15 AM

Emo Sanctuary

knife tag: It's done.

knife tag: chatscreenshot.jpg

*sad kazoo* has sent a money transfer to knife tag

*sad kazoo*: Your money's pending to whatever card is attached to your number.

knife tag: moneytransferscreenshot.jpg

eldritch peep: wow, you really sent him 11,055 yen?

knife tag: This man's out here fueling my savings since UA instituted the no job rule since the dorms went into effect.

unhappy meal: they instituted a no job rule!? that's why I got that paper!? I thought that was a joke!

*sad kazoo*: Better put in a two weeks, kid.

unhappy meal: I literally can't. if I don't work, I don't have a way of feeding myself!

*sad kazoo*: Can't you ask your parents to send you food money, Toshi?

unhappy meal: okay, Haruhi, I know you weren't here when we started this chat with just me, Katsuki, Shouto, and Izuku so you don't know but I literally don't have parents, man. I lived in an orphanage until the beginning of the school year and, after I got in, I began renting an apartment near the school so I could attend. which means I'll lose my apartment where my cat and dog stay and it has all my stuff in it too.

tell tale heart: He's having an anxiety attack, someone go get him. I don't know where his room is.

meth and deadamine: I'll check on him.

knife tag: On my way.

eldritch peep: I'm coming, hold on.

*sad kazoo*: I've finally become a father at 28. I knew this shit would happen eventually.

*sad kazoo* has sent a money transfer to unhappy meal

*sad kazoo*: That's your monthly allowance. Do whatever you want, kid.

unhappy meal: I'm gonna cry.

unhappy meal: moneytransferscreenshot.jpg

meth and deadmine: You got 110,550 yen!? Haruhi out here paying kids to exist.

*sad kazoo*: That sounds weird, don't say that. I'm here because I'm Ren's best friend and Ren is Izuku's brother. I've effectively adopted both Katsuki and Hitoshi, I'm not sending random kids money for no reason, they're my sons.

eldritch peep: Ignore him, Kuroiro likes making things sound weird. How does it feel to be a father, Haruhi?

*sad kazoo*: Fatherhood? Guess that means I need to shape up and be a dad, huh?

eldritch peep: Step the fuck up, Haruhi.

*sad kazoo*:  I am, I am. Toshi, kid, don't cry or whatever, everything's gonna be fine.

unhappy meal: thanks, dad.

*sad kazoo*: My heart hurts. Why does it hurt? What the fuck is this feeling?

knife tag: It's called pride. It's because you're happy.

*sad kazoo*: This child is mine now, I'm going to find a way to legally adopt you.

unhappy meal: that would actually be really cool if you did.

*sad kazoo*: Looks like I'm re-evaluating my life tonight so I can make it hospitable for a son. I'm gonna go see if I can figure out how to fix some shit. Night, kids.

knife tag: hitoshicryingabouthavingadadnow.vid

Transcript Begin

"Hito, it's okay." -eldritch peep

"I have a dad now, Fumi." -unhappy meal

"We know, Shinsou." -meth and deadamine

"I have a dad." -unhappy meal

"Time to sleep, Toshi." -knife tag

"Okay. Time to sleep." -unhappy meal

Transcript End

*sad kazoo*: I love my son. Take care of him.

8:25 AM

Area 51

Ashido: ALERT- MY ALARMS DIDN'T GO OFF, PLEASE STALL AIZAWA FOR ABOUT TEN MINUTES

this message has been marked as an emergency

Shinsou: On it.

8:40 AM

Area 51

Ashido: What'd you do to distract him, Shinsou?

Shinsou: Oh, gave myself an anxiety attack.

Ashido: SHINSOU!

Shinsou: It was an emergency! You'd be in detention right now if I hadn't. plus I had one last night too so it wasn't hard to do.

Ashido: Shinsou, don't ever do that for me again but thank you. You're getting big bakusquad hugs at lunch.

Shinsou: It's not like it was difficult. I got lots to break down about.

Ashido: Me too, bitch.

4:00 PM

Area 51

Shinsou has changed their name to its a mental breakdown

Ashido: Oh my god, Shinsou.

its a mental breakdown: I figured while I'm at it.

Ashido: Speaking of at it.

Ashido has changed Kaminari's name to pikachoo

Ashido has changed Jirou's name to neko neko kneecaps

Ashido has changed Sero's name to wine and cheerios

Ashido has changed Bakugou's name to mother i crave violence

Ashido has changed their name to aggressive chicken dance

Kirishima: Could you not think of one for me?

aggressive chicken dance: More like can't decide.

Kirishima has changed their name to ordained

pikachoo: You're ordained, Kiri?

ordained: Yeah. I got ordained for my moms' wedding in a few months.

pikachoo: So cool, dude.

ordained: Oh, Shinsou, dude, you said you had an anxiety attack last night, you good, man?

its a mental breakdown: one sec.

4:05 PM

Emo Sanctuary

unhappy meal: can I talk about it, Zuku?

bitchasaurus: Yeah, why not? Because it involves Ren? It's not a big deal, Hitoshi!

unhappy meal: just making sure, some people don't like their personal lives talked about by other people.

bitchasaurus: I don't mind, Hitoshi.

4:09 PM

Area 51

its a mental breakdown: alright. so we had a chat from right after the sports festival with just me, Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki which became an emo chatroom when we added Tokoyami, Jirou, and Kuroiro.

its a mental breakdown: And then Midoriya got in contact with his older brother, Ren and added him and Ren's best friend Haruhi to the chat because he wanted to show off Ren but Ren didn't feel comfortable talking without Haruhi lurking in the chat.

its a mental breakdown: you guys probably don't know but I was an orphan from a really really young age because my parents died when I was young and my other family members didn't want me. and at the beginning of this year, when I got into UA, I moved out of the orphanage, got an apartment close to campus and all, I'd had a job for two years prior.

its a mental breakdown: and last night, Haruhi gave Bakugou 11,055 yen as a dare to start this chat. then Bakugou and Haruhi were talking about the no-job rule because of the dorms and I'd thought it was a joke when I got the paper so I didn't have anything saved up and I don't exactly have parents I can ask for money if I need to buy food and I'm definitely not asking my friends and bothering them.

its a mental breakdown: I mean, I have enough I could coast for a month or two without pay but I feel like Aizawa would kill me for not eating right.

its a mental breakdown: anyway, I had my anxiety attack, Haruhi sent me money, Kuroiro made a sentence creepy like always, and Haruhi called me and Bakugou his sons. him, Jirou and Tokoyami joked about him being a dad for a bit and then he actually told me when I went back online that he wanted to legally adopt me.

mother i crave violence: Thus why I didn't wake up Pinky this morning. I was busy in the Gen Ed dorms with my new brother.

its a mental breakdown: I will have another breakdown, don't tempt me.

ordained: Shinsou, man, that's so awesome! You have a dad! We should have a party for Shinsou getting a dad!

its a mental breakdown: if it makes you guys happy then go for it but if you go crazy with the party again. we already had the incident on my birthday, we're not having another.

Asui: What incident, kero?

its a mental breakdown: Kirishima's hair got set on fire at some point, Sero got tangled onto the railing of my balcony and was hanging from my fifth floor apartment's balcony railing, Mina choked on a piece of burnt tofu, Kaminari slipped in the bathroom and fell into the full bathtub where he then electrocuted himself, Bakugou got his face shoved into the cake and sat in the corner pouting while my cat Ume and dog Anzu tried to eat the cake off his face for the rest of the night, Jirou got lost inside my apartment building, and I hit my head on the counter and had a concussion for a week.

Hagakure: Why is your friend group so chaotic?

mother i crave violence: I like to think I've cultivated a well-functioning group of chaotic demons. At least if one of us is doing something dumb, usually the rest will either follow or do something dumb of their own.

neko neko kneecaps: I'd like to plead innocent as well as shift majority blame to Midoriya's friend group because I just know those idiots could and would collectively kill and hide a body and nobody would ever know it was them.

Midoriya: Bold of you to assume we haven't already.

neko neko kneecaps: Yeah, hi, mom, pick me up, I'm afraid of Midoriya again.

Midoriya: You can run, Jirou, but you can't hide.

neko neko kneecaps: You can't kill me, Bakugou would be sad!

Midoriya: You may live...for now.

neko neko kneecaps: Oh, thank the gods.

Taglist: @lgbtforeverything @rin-tanaka

[hoodoo12]

Ménage (2/13ish)

SWF, backstory, personal hurts, connection

He listened to Molly move through her kitchen, hoping to hear her talk to herself for some more info on her. That wasn't eavesdropping, not really, he told himself; she knew he was there. But she was quiet, and quickly returned with another glass, sinking down beside him again.

He accepted the refill of this not-pink-at-all-drink, raised it properly in a toast, and liked very much that she took his hand as she settled in this time.

"So, you sound like you have a lot of experience with celestials. Is it just angels? What are they like?"

"Celestials?" he asked. "You really wanna hear about them? Pompous, jealous, dickwads? It's not just angels, either . . . anything that didn't turn away from the Light calls itself a celestial, and they're all busy jerking off to their own superiority. Sometimes they like to try and herd lesser beings back to what they think is the Way. Gets 'em brownie points or some horseshit."

He took a swig.

"Is that what you were hoping to call here?" he asked, barely keeping the distain out of his voice. "They're like Jehovah's Witnesses or fucking ringworm -- you can't get rid of them once they're here."

He extracted his hand from hers and drew his blackened fingernails through her palm and to her wrist.

"I think you'll find getting me was a much better choice, baby."

Rapt, she listened, her thumb idly brushing the side of his hand; his disdain was easy to perceive, but she was fascinated nonetheless. How many humans got an opportunity like this, to hear about the afterlife, to know even tiny details about the ever-looming What Comes Next?

"You know, I don't doubt you. I'm not exactly the religious type anyway."

The scrape of his blunt, dark nails across her palm to the delicate inner face of her wrist made her heart stutter in her chest, and goosebumps immediately raised on her arm all the way up to her shoulder. Oh. That had felt far too good.

She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks again, wondering how many times this ghost had made her blush in the half hour or so he'd been in her home. Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound. She flipped her hand over, lying it palm up on her knee, and took a long sip of her drink, draining half in one swallow.

"Do that again?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, half a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

"This, baby?" he asked to confirm, even as he repeated the motion, first and second fingers circling in her palm, following the creases there like he was divining before dragging them to her wrist and the soft skin of her inner arm. He pulled his fingers backwards to her hand and did it again.

Without permission but with the same smirk on his face, his fingers skipped from her arm to her thigh. They were even lighter there, dragging slowly upward, even as he watched for her reaction.

If his smile wasn't enough to make her heart begin to race, the slow, deliberate drag of his fingertips across her palm certainly did the trick. There were calluses on her fingers from working in her gardens, but her palms remained soft, sensitive, and she couldn't help pinching her lower lip between her teeth to hold back a sigh. Who knew such a simple touch could have such a physical effect on her?

When his fingers migrated to her thigh, bare beneath a thin pair of cotton pajama shorts, she couldn't keep a soft moan back, shivering at the more intimate touch, sliding slowly inward. This . . . oh, it was nice but she couldn't . . . he needed to know what he would be signing up for.

"Hey," she whispered, placing her hand over his to still his progress. "This . . . look, I like you touching me. I like it a lot. But if you . . . if you want more . . . there's a few things you should know about me first."

She sighed, feeling embarrassment and anxiety creeping icy tendrils around her ribcage. "I don't . . .  I . . . um, I haven’t done this. I haven't even been kissed. This is all fresh territory for me, and there's a really big reason why."

At the hesitation in her voice and her physically stopping his hand, he cocked his head. She had let the softest moan ever escape. There was the faintest tremble to the fingers atop his. Her breath had come more quickly, and that same pretty blush had darkened her cheeks again.

He didn't want to care about her reason; she was responsive and just the fact she'd called him was arousing. He sported a bit of a tent pole behind his fly, but he wasn't all demon. He knew pain. He'd caused pain gladly, sometimes. But Molly, this woman who may had inadvertently summoned him hadn't immediately banished him, so he wasn't going to do that to her.

So he stopped.

"Everyone starts somewhere, baby," he told her, hoping it sounded more philosophical and less smarmy, and then he waited.

She was grateful that he stopped, that he didnt press his hand forward, only cocked his head in response. He even spoke gently, assuring her that everyone started somewhere, and she was grateful for that too.

"I know. If it was just the virginity thing, your hand would already be in my shorts. I wouldn’t have stopped you just for that." She took a deep breath, let it out, realizing just how long it had been since she had spoken to another person about this.

"I . . . I lost my whole family when I was fifteen. All of them. My older sister was graduating high school and my parents threw a huge party for her. Everyone came, aunts, grandparents, cousins. Everyone. I was being a shitty teenager and didn't figure they'd miss me, so I took a walk, just wanting to be away from so many people asking if I was gonna graduate valedictorian like my sister. And . . . well, I grew up in a small town in the rural midwest, which means half the town made cooking meth their day job. Our neighbors happened to be cooking that day and it...went wrong. The explosion took out half the block, including the house behind it. My house." She paused. She could get through this. "No one got out but me.

"After that, it was foster homes until I could legally be on my own. I had a small fortune in inheritance, since I was the only living relative of anyone with a will. I got a shitty apartment and stewed in a delicious mix of PTSD and survivor's guilt until I turned twenty and started putting my life back together. Got my GED and a BA in journalism. Even got a girlfriend."

A short smile curled on her mouth, but it was joyless.

"Met on an online literary forum. She lived two states away, so we were long distance for a year. She was gonna drive down to spend Christmas with me, and her car . . . hit some black ice. She was killed on impact. She was still in the closet back at home, so I only found out because her best friend found my Facebook. I couldn't even go to her funeral."

"After that, I . . .I just couldn't do it. Everyone I ever loved had died, and not peacefully. I couldn't let myself be around people. I felt cursed. I still feel cursed. I bought this house and I . . . I don't leave it. That's why you're the first person I've spoken to face to face in nearly two years." Her head hung, ashamed at her own weakness, thoughts dark with the horrible memories she has dredged up from the murk.

"Still think I'm worth the trouble?"

Oh, he had some stories about his past that would rival hers, but this wasn't the time or place for one-upmanship. He could bitterly tell her that shitty things happen to everyone, and that's life: just a series of falling down to claw yourself back up again, over and over. You did it or you didn’t, and no one’s path was the right one for anybody else.

But the deep pain he’d experienced that should’ve made him calloused and sour wasn’t quite there. Hers was different, nothing like his, and that didn’t make the deep-seated anger flare.

“So you thought calling up a spirit would give you some companionship,” he said. It was a statement, not a question. His voice dropped. “And you got me instead.”

Slowly, his fingers curled in on themselves, towards his own palm, until he was no longer touching her. Gently he extracted his hand out from under hers.

He tried to chuckle, but it came out a little strained. “Second best again.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his gaze flicked downward, away from her for a moment, until he collected himself. When he did, straightening and leaving his hand on his own knee, he was able to look at her again.

“Tell me again what you wanted from the spirit you were trying to call up. I’m no good at conversation, I cheat at cards and Monopoly, I’ve eaten my fair share of puzzle pieces. TV is okay, so long as it’s reruns of the Jerry Springer Show. I’m not really suited for the quiet life that it seems like you’ve got going here--I’m more an inappropriately physical specter, if you hadn’t noticed.

“I’ve liked being here, baby, and the drinks were nice, but you might be better sending me on my way and trying your ritual again.”

For a moment, though his eyes were downcast and his posture already shrinking back from her, Molly could see something in his eyes. Something fractured and irreparable. Raw and pained on a level she couldn't possibly begin to fathom. Then the veil dropped, the veneer smoothly tugged back into place, his voice carefully measured and cold.

"What?" It was her turn to cock her head, brow furrowing. "I don't understand, second best to who? I called a spirit and you answered. Haven't I said more than once that I'm happy you're here?"

Reining herself in before her voice got too shrill, Molly took a deep breath.

"Just like I wasn't sure what kind of spirit would answer, I wasn't sure what I'd want if they did. Different spirits have different rules." She bit harshly at her lip, tugging threads of skin loose until the spot began to bleed. "I hoped maybe we could figure it out together, but I guess I just ruined that. I want you to stay, Beej, but I won't make you. Everyone else left, so I shouldn't have assumed you wouldn't leave, too."

She shrank back against the arm of the couch, tugging her knees up protectively to her chest.

People tended to dismiss him, so that wasn't totally unexpected; it was a familiar ache. But people didn't tend to be upset that he offered to go, didn't tend to try and tuck the blame back in on themselves, and didn't tend to tell him repeatedly they wanted him to stay.

In the silence that stretched between them, he considered what she'd said. Seeing her worry her lip till the red on it wasn't lipstick, he dug around in a pocket till he found a scrap of cloth that may have been a handkerchief at one time.

"Here," he told her, shaking it out. He looked it over, reading the monogram, before offering it to her. "I can't imagine old HPL is going to mind you using this. Why the hell anyone would be buried with a snotrag is beyond me."

He left it on the cushion between them, and sighed.

"Molly, I'm sorry I'm not what you expected when you wanted someone here. But . . ." He paused and made sure she was looking at him before continuing. "None of those people in your life left you. Not voluntarily, and that's a big difference than someone choosing to go."

Now the hard part, because it was dangerous being honest; in his experience, people used it against him. "You've said you'd like me to stay. I'd like to stay too, baby. A little company and comfort? Who in their right mind would turn that down?"

His own gaze had flicked to one side, a little, but he forced it back up to hers.

Out of her peripherals, she could see him moving, and assumed he was getting off the couch to leave. So when he produced an off white square of fabric and placed it in the neutral space between them, her brow knitted in confusion. Molly reached for it; there was probably more bacteria on this handkerchief than in a public restroom, but the gesture was kind, and she held it to her bleeding lip anyway.

Hope leapt in her chest like a flame when he admitted that he'd like to stay. Unfurling from her position on the couch,  she sat closer to him, and hardly believing her daring, she lifted her hand to cup her palm against his cheek, touch light in case she needed to pull away quickly.

"I was expecting at most some kind of poltergeist, something I could feel but couldn't see. Something to make the place feel less empty. But you came through, and I can talk to you and touch you . . . honey, don't apologize because you weren't what I was expecting. This is better."

Her thumb swept over the ridge of his cheekbone, secretly hoping no moss had rubbed off on her hand. "I would . . . I would really like you to stay. You're fascinating, and fun to talk to, and cute . . ." She bit her lips out of habit, wincing as her teeth raked the tender spot. "Please."

Her feather light touch made his eyelids flutter closed. It was something he could never get enough of, something he'd never tire of. He had to actively prevent himself from pushing into her like a damn cat.

When she relayed what she'd been hoping for and at her quiet admission that she'd like him to stay, he opened his eyes again and caught her gaze. He also couldn't help drop his eyes to her grabbing her lip between her teeth again. A smile grew on his face, and he hoped it distracted enough from what was growing in his pants.

Beetlejuice twisted his head under her hand a little, planting a kiss into her palm.

"I'd like to stay too, baby," he murmured against her skin, before he lifted his amber eyes to hers again. "You expected a poltergeist, but I can go bump in the night too, you know.

"If you're interested . . ."

There was something about the way his eyes fluttered shut, lashes brushing his cheeks as her palm brushed his cheek, that made her insides tremble; odd how such a minuscule gesture could affect her entire body, could make her breath catch. And oh, when his eyes opened again, intense and pinned to her, missing not a single move she made, and he smiled. Molly wondered if she was supposed to feel this way, if it was the isolation talking or if it was normal to have your heart try to hammer through your ribcage.

His lips were cool, colder than the rest of his skin from the chilled liquor, but they left a spot of warmth behind, ticking her palm as he spoke softly against it. Her stomach did a somersault, then another when he caught her gaze again, that playful flicker alight in his eyes. How could she possibly say no?

"I am interested," she breathed, her hand pressing just a bit more firmly to his cheek, leaning closer. Her drink was set aside, her other hand mirroring its twin, cradling his face between them. Her hands ached with the need to bestow gentleness on him; he seemed to be in desperate need of it. "You . . . you can touch me again . . . if you want."

He didn't need any further invitation. The hand he'd teased her with before went back to her thigh, using light pressure to draw a line up it. He made it to the hem of her shorts, then eased his fingers under it before stopping.

He shifted his head in her palm, and put his teeth on the fleshy mound below her thumb even more lightly than his lips had been.

When she moved closer in, he finally moved out of her hand again.

"Never been kissed, you said?" he confirmed, his voice a tad lower than before. "That's a crime. You bit your lip, and I don't wanna hurt you, baby, but I do want a taste . . ."

He left that hanging in the air as he tilted his head and his mouth covered hers.

The skin beneath his fingers seemed to tremble at their passage, a soft rush of breath leaving her as those gentle fingertips slipped under the hem of her shorts, caressing her inner thigh but venturing no further. A hot flush crept down her neck at the sight of his teeth, the soft scrape of the sharp edges making her lips part. Such subtle touches, but God, the effect they had on her.

Like a peal of passing thunder, the last parting rumbles at the end of a clearing storm, his question was asked, and Molly shook her head to confirm that no, she had never been kissed, head tilted back slightly to bare a throat that bobbed in a heavy swallow. Her hands slid to his shoulders, digging slightly into the material of his suit to ground herself as he crooned to her, leaning closer, closer . . .

 tbc

[prongsmydeer]

Ayesha Liveblogs Tiger King 

“I think it would be fair to say that Carole is the Mother Teresa of cats” now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear

“I’d never been a person who had friends” statements like this always perplex me because surely there had to be ONE other person in however long you quantify childhood that you identified with. Like not one whole ass person? You’re not the only person who loves cats Carole

The juxtaposition between Carole Baskin’s “Animal Print for Animal Rights” and Joe Exotic’s “Tiger King underwear is our bestseller” is poetic cinema

Okay this isn’t a reflection of my opinions on this man but I Saw a Tiger is a good country ballad there I said it 

“When I first met Joe, I was like a month out of high school” well that’s not good

[Joe Exotic voice] Some people have tigers to cope

Doc Antle has only been on screen for 30 seconds and already he has made himself memorable by directing the film crew

Is Bhagavan Antle Indian in some way or did he just have a really intense Eat Pray Love journey with his guru

Also is he really a doctor orrrrrrrrr

“I am out there in the forefront so known of being this guy that is in love with big cats and has them love him back” please don’t tell me this guy does anything weird to his animals

“People only care about saving what affects them” 

“You can’t put a price on holding a baby tiger” but you did and apparently it’s $625 

The fact that multiple tigers have had albinism is probably a sign of major inbreeding practices at these zoos

You know, even if I ate meat*, there is no way I would be able to handle any kind of early prep stage of it bc seeing these cow carcasses is A Lot

*If u r reading this I don’t care if u eat meat leave me alone

“Animals just wasn’t enough, okay? So then I started adding magic” well that took an unexpected turn

I don’t know if it’s for real fair to criticize every person who has brought a big cat out in a public venue/talk show because I know at least like Dave Sal/moni is always going “THESE ANIMALS MAKE TERRIBLE PETS” 

As a sidenote from what I understand this Saff person keeps being deadnamed/misgendered throughout this documentary and I do not appreciate it 

“I grew up a professional cowboy in a family of professional cowboys” every sentence on this show is a journey

WHO is letting their ONE-YEAR-OLD lay on top of a tiger cub I know you’re at a zoo but BRUH

“It’s going to be a small Waco” to say this ON THE NEWS

This 2 minute stretch of episode is all the PSA anyone ever needs to never own a gun

Well I think we can all agree that PETA is a fucking mess

God this is like battle of the people who are terrible at doing anything good for animals

“What do you carry that gun for?” “People” AHHHHHHHHHHH?!?!!!!?!?

“I sleep with an AK-47 under my mattress, loaded, ready to roll” WILL SOMEONE HELP THE U.S. OF A

I was warned about this show and yet I was still not prepared for the level of UNHINGED it would be 

How in the FUCK does a place like this not have an on-site medic

“Why don’t you come back on another day” he said, after telling the public an employee had his arm taken off 

“I am never gonna financially recover from this” SURE JOE THIS IS ABOUT YOU

To go back to work a WEEK after getting your arm amputated... BRUH

“Any law that you think’s unfair or unjustice, it is your obligation, it is your responsibility to stand up against that bullshit law” well Thomas Jefferson was a slaveowner so clearly the injustice thing was relative for him

Traditionally don’t drug addictions fuel people choosing extreme paths with their life rather than the other way around? 

JKHGKJHGKJH this whole exchange:

Interviewer: What kind of doctor is he?

Maria: Mystical science.

Interviewer: Mystical science?

Maria, nodding: Yeah.

“How many wives does Doc Antle have?” I didn’t expect this but somehow it tracks

I’m gonna bet none of these people with subcontinental names have a single bit of South Asian heritage like okay “Moksha” and “Rajnee” did Bhagavan name you

On a more serious note: It’s really fucked up that these men keep meeting literal teenagers, making them their employees, and then also get into relationships with them. I cannot emphasize this strongly enough THIS IS NOT GOOD OR HEALTHY

It’s pretty weird that Doc Antle keeps emphasizing so frequently that one of his partners is Italian 

“I’m gonna go be a yoga animal trainer” ah, white people bullshit

“Goodbye. Don’t fall in love with your boss.” Good advice, Dad

I was not expecting all this subcontinental imagery to get under my skin this badly but what’s your problem dude can’t u be normal for like a second 

“You’re this garbage person, but if you listen to me, I’ll make you great” again this tracks but gross

Again, on a more serious note: if a partner ever talks to you this way please call a domestic abuse hotline 

Not that India is at all in a good place right now but I personally ban Doc Antle from ever entering India. Banned. Forever. I will not be accepting constructive criticism at this time

“I didn’t really know any better” is a really good way of summarizing what all of these younger partners have been through

Wow Carole is really explaining this abuse issue succinctly 

Antle’s indignation at being implied to be a cult leader despite the fact he is most definitely a cult leader

Joe’s story in his documentary is constantly “is this going to be a humanizing moment PSYCH it’s still terrible”

HOW IS THIS LEGAL PAY YOUR WORKERS A LIVING WAGE

Why is this husband-killing thing JUST A FOOTNOTE AT THE END OF THIS EPISODE OH MY GOD

We have deviated so far from the tiger thing oh my god

Why is the only man in this documentary who is faithful to his spouse the man that smuggled drugs inside of snakes

Every time I learn a new thing about a person in this documentary I have to reorient myself

This whole episode has been about this murder and I’m concerned that its title, “The Secret,” hasn’t even been revealed yet

GOD I take back what I said about I Saw Tiger, the concept of this song/music video for Here Kitty Kitty is so disturbing that this man deserves no credit whatsoever as a musician 

CAROLE WHY ARE YOU GIGGLING ABOUT THE MEAT GRINDER IT’S NOT FUNNY

Well I don’t have much to say about this episode other than yikes

I guess if you’re really out to spite someone stealing their brand and posting exactly the opposite of everything they stand for is an effective if weird and petty way to do it

Do you think the whole throne footage moment was a “Frankenstein realizing what he has wrought” kind of thing for Kirkham

This is really like watching a sports game of two teams you can’t stand except the sport is murder and other miscellaneous crime

If we’re all being real with ourselves the documentary filmmakers themselves MUST have had some issues going on to be able to walk into this situation and not do anything about it

This series really seems to present a compelling case for why every major figure in this documentary has potentially committed at least one terrible crime

Ah there’s the judgment from the woman in Florida I guess it’s two crimes with one stone

God these poor animals they do not deserve anything happening to them

While obviously people are enticed by the prospect of someone they’re into having an animal JUST GET AN ALREADY DOMESTICATED ANIMAL LIKE DOMESTICATED CATS AND DOGS EXIST OH MY GOD DO NOT USE EXOTIC PETS AS DATE BAIT

 It has been so long since we heard about Travis ngl I already forgot about him 

Why is every single person in this show SO OFF THE WALLS I mean I know why but also WHY

This documentary is also a treatise in the flaws of the U.S. prison system and how it sets up people up to fail or re-offend upon release

Take a shot every time a middle-aged man in this show mentions that he casually bought himself a big cat as a teen

“Joe was the entertainment director.... by title” I don’t think this was meant to be a burn but what a burn

I am almost certain I WATCHED that Last Week Tonight episode during that election and if u told me that 4-5 years later I would be rewatching that clip in a documentary about this man’s journey to being convicted for murder then I cannot say I wouldn’t be surprised but I would probably believe it 

Also I have to wonder what John Oliver thinks about being part of this 

[“Beyonce?” voice] Shaun Majumder?

Sidenote: Until this exact moment I thought of Shaun Majumder as Ben Mulroney even though Brian Mulroney is white as hell I guess I have faceblindness but only for Canadian talkshow personalities

I have been aware of this before now but the fact you can buy a GUN at a Walmart what in the FUCK is U.S.A. doing

Man does this campaign manager really want to take ownership of anything Joe Exotic has ever done

Ngl I was wondering why someone who had at one point clearly had a lot of money seemed to have such poor dental care access but meth certainly does explain it

I mean people can be attracted to both men and women (hello) but since Joe was fuelling their drug addictions since they were teenagers attraction is at best a null factor and at worst an added layer of terrible to this whole mess

It’s hard to even respond to this in a meaningful way because this is so fucked up. Don’t own guns.

“That was a big fucking mistake,” he said, right after someone explained that he was driving large groups of people in an enclosed space in a busy city with wild animals that could maim or kill them

Padlock penls piercing really does not seem like a first date bombshell

“We went to dinner and he never went home” well if that doesn’t set you with a sense of foreboding

TWO MONTHS AFTER WHAT IN THE HELL OH MY GOD also I hope Dillon is okay

“It wasn’t about the animals anymore” you THINK

“It was sort of funny when they started but it’s gotten really dark” how meta

Of all the reasons Joe could’ve abandoned his zoo, I really didn’t think embezzlement would be what pushed him

“He won’t tell anyone where he’s at, not even me,” said Dial, with no acknowledgement of the fact that Joe is also theoretically still married and would maybe tell his husband???

Oh Dillon spotted??? Yikes get out dude

Take a shot every time a white person who really doesn’t understand where the word “karma” comes from starts talking about karma as if it is the Law of Revenge

The fact this man brings a film crew out with him while he’s on the run evading a federal investigation..... incomprehensible

“Joe just wanted to put it in somebody’s name and continue to be the tiger queen, I mean king,” really REALLY of all the reasons to object to Joe you’re going to choose homophobia wow

Is this about an attempt to have someone murdered or does something happen to Baskin it is very unclear

This documentary has an interesting format of switching focus from crime to crime to crime 

“I’ve never been as proud of being married to anyone as I am being married to you” It’s weird to compliment your husband by comparing him to all your other husbands

How is the lesson for Jeff Lowe in this “let’s build another zoo” surely at that point it’s better to just cut your losses

[Garretson voice]: You should pay me for being a bro, dude

“I’m a libertarian, so technically, fuck the Feds,” I’ve never heard an intonation that better suits a conservative millennial 

I mean I don’t think it was advisable but honestly why are people surprised Joe took the stand isn’t delusions of grandeur kind of his thing

Sometimes it’s just that they’ve added in other moments to break up the awful immoral crimes with just run of the mill douchebaggery like the nanny/gym thing huh

I guess the silver lining in this is that potentially these big cat zoos will shut down but like where do these animals who have been raised in captivity go??? I don’t trust anyone in this documentary to not exploit them in some way ugh 

“Not a single animal benefited from this war,” correct, Saff

“I was wrapped up in having a zoo,” not really an excuse but ok

[unknowngirl199424-blog]

Pt. 3

Now being the pretty innocent girl i was. I smoked weed very occasionally. Drank every now and then. But that was it really. I smoked cigs. Stupid choice i made at an even more stupid young age. I was 13 when i tried it. 15 when i started smoking every day. (My parents knew, they didn't care) my younger sister had been smoking for years. She partied a lot. Drank a lot. Smoked a lot. Took a lot of pills. Would steal my moms pain pills that she needed from the back surgeries. Mom would run out at the end of the month and would bawl... Literally wail in pain. And it never stopped my sister. I caught her several times. Id get pissed. Ask her wtf she was doing, or why... But she never stopped. I never told... I was drowning in depression. It started when i was 13. After my grandma passed. I changed... She was my world.

My parents partied ALOT!

Used LOTS of drugs...

Ranging from just weed, to coke, to meth...

The first half of my life... From birth till... 14? I think was when they quit all the hard shit for good. They were just... Mom and dad. I mean i loved them, i respected them, but... I didn't have anything to compare it to. It was normal for me to walk in and see light bulbs just randomly on the coffee table.

It was normal for me to wake my sis up in the morning, helping her get dressed, teeth brushed, food in her belly and out the door waiting on the bus. Every day. We lived in the country about 20 miles from town where our friends were. So all we had was each other. In the summer as soon as the sun started to show, 7:00ish. My parents would rush into our room. One would wake up me while the other would wake my sister. Rush us up and to get dressed and outside. We'd be outside alllllllllll day long in the summer in Oklahoma heat. They'd have friends over and lock the doors. We played. Sometimes the friends would bring their kids and we'd run around and play all day. I was a tom boy. I had scarred bloody knees almost daily from wrecking my bike. Would just walk around the property we lived on. Played with our dogs. Pissed off snakes that liked to live in the barn or chicken coop. I ran a lot. BUT IT WAS NORMAL TO ME. They started to quit when i was 12. Then grandma passed. They started again. Didn't stop for good until mom was hurt and dad was fired for pissing dirty for weed, coke, and meth. He was rehired 6 months later. But shit was rough at the time. So after losing my grandma. I went into myself. She loved me, took care of me. Gave me what i wanted and needed. I basically broke. I was never really an over joyous kid. I was raped and molested by my cousin. And so i always carried pain. But grandma was who made me happy. She passed. And from that point in my life from 13 to 18. I cut a lot. I was emotionless most days. But some days I'd break and cry for hours. For the longest time i thought i was depressed because of grandma. But i realized... Depression is a disease. And once you get a good dose of it, it stays. It twists and folds and wiggles its way into every fibre of your being and clings. And bad things that go on add to it and over time, you are eye level deep terrified you're gonna go under soon and no one will notice. Well over the years shit was added. Once I realised i could.... Not feel the pain and sadness... I latched on. Over time the occasional smoking weed went to every day several times a day. Drinking came up for awhile but i hated feeling like shit the next day so i quit. My ex gave me a pain pill one day.

I realised that not only could i get away from the pain and depression, i could feel fucking amazing while doing so. So it started out ya know. Once a week. Just one. To 2 a week to 4 a week to at least 1 every day. When we went up north. Pills were every where. Drugs in general. And i wanted to experience things. We had fun. Went lots of places. Did lots of things. Parties, festivals, fairs, amusement parks, museums, art museums, craft fairs, art stores, book stores, malls, movie theaters.. Just... it was great. I met her friends. They were like her. We partied a lot. I was soley living in the moment for once instead of striving to please everyone else. It was a stupid choice. But it was my choice. Over the years. The fun with it stopped... it became a nessecity. She got shitty and mean sober and i was just as miserable. I wanted happiness not that. Her dad would give us pain pills every day and muscle relaxers. If we did literally anything for him he'd pay us in pills. My ex was also prescribed pain pills too! We'd go through them so quick and then he'd give them to us so we didn't go through withdrawal. By year 3 (2015) I'm 21. I'm working a few months here a few months there. Living the same daily cycle. My day didn't start until pills were thrown down my throat. The habit got bad. I was to a point i was taking fucking handfulls of pills. Daily. And didn't feel ok until then. The few days i didn't have them, i literally slept all day and all night. I was burying my issues with a dark coping mechanism.

I started falling out of love. I left her once last year and we got back together the next day. I told her she couldn't keep stopping me from leaving because it was making me hate her. She wouldnt let go. We stayed together for 4 months. I broke up with her and moved back to oklahoma the beginning of this year. But she was my comfort. Pills were my comfort. After being here for 4 months i let her come back. It was bad. I got back into pills again and one day i told her i didn't want to be with her anyone. She was here for a month at that point. But she wasn't trying to work. She wouldn't do anything. But look for pills. I told her i was done. She gave me some pills. I didn't know what they were but she told me they were for anxiety. And i was really upset. So i took them. We kept arguing. She kept giving me more. My parents stopped by to drop something off, i guess i was wayyyyy out of it. They leave. The fight blows up. I tell her i want her gone. She kept refusing. Idk what happened. It was like a light switch went off. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a steak knife and sliced my wrist up for the first time ever... I only cut my stomach and thighs as a teen. She came around the corner and saw what i was doing and broke a glass vase i had. She ran over and grabbed the blade. Started yanking it from me. I guess we fought over it pretty hard cuz all i remember was it flying across the room and when i got back 6 days later it was soooo bent up.

She kept going and going and i grabbed a piece of glass and cut, she got it away and i just collapsed to the floor. She tried hugging me. I screamed at her for being toxic for me. To not touch me. To just call my mom. My mom shows up. Its like 11:30 at night at this point and she freaks out. My ex starts shit with her. They argue. I scream at them that they needed to stop and mom took me to the er. I guess by that point i was in and out of consciousness. One thing i do remember was seeing an old teacher that i had from yearrrrs ago when i went to a vocational school to become a certified nurse aid. I really looked up to her at 17. Admired her. She was a Dr there in the er. It was humialting. I cried. I guess i pissed in a cup for em or something. I don't remember. But they told my mom (which i didn't find out till almost a week later) that i was overdosing. That all of what i took hadn't caught up and that's why i was talking really crazy and blacking out. I don't remember. But the next morning i wake up. There was a cop sitting next to my bed. 20 mins later im being handcuffed and put in a cruiser and drove over a hr to a phych place. Guess the dr asked me the night before what would happen if i went home and i said i didn't know. So they legally put me there for 5 days so i couldn't be any harm to myself.

5 good things about being put there.

1. I had no access to pills, alcohol, even cigarettes. So i was very very clear headed. The first time in almost 6 years. Had time to think about where tf my life has landed me.

2. I realized how fucking truly bad our relationship was. And came to the conclusion that if we stayed together. One, if not both of us was gonna end up in a casket. Whether it be from pills or not. It was gonna happen.

3. I realized that i deserved wayyyy better. Relationship wise. Life wise. I deserved someone who could push me in the healthy direction. Make positive choices. I felt like instead of maturing, i was still trapped in an 18 yr olds mentality.

4. I ended it. And that time i meant it. There's nothing she could offer me. That would make me go back. Not a million dollars, not a billion, not even all the stars in the sky. I have nothing for her.

5. I met someone who treats me amazing now. Who pushes me. Keeps me away from the shit. I've been pain pill free for 5 months and its staying that way.

And for once... I'm starting to actually feel happy. Genuinely. I was prescribed anti depressants, anti anxiety, and a sleep disorder med. I stopped taking the anti depressants because they made it worse. But im to the point where the good days finally out weigh the bad. And when the bad come, i roll with it.

For the new year. I have a few goals.

1. Continue all the hard work ive put into myself. Keep eating healthy. Keep exercising. Keep pushing myself forward. No more settling for less what what i truly want.

2. Stay tf away from pain pills. 👍 keep fighting that demon in me who whispers how good I would feel or how one wouldn't hurt...

3. Quit smoking cigs. They're killing me. My lungs hurt all the time.

4. Continue bettering my life. I got away from her for 4 months and i had my own home, vehicle, and a high paying easy job. Brought her back for a month, had a suicidal moment. But she's gone and im in a great relationship. And I'm fucking HAPPY!

5. Quit being so fucking hard on myself. I hate the way i look, i hate my body. But they can be changed. Stress over things that need it but relax more. I'm 24. I still have time.

I STILL HAVE FUCKIN TIME

[killian-whump]

OUAT 2x06: Rewatch Blog

Heeey everybody! Welcome to my rewatch liveblog of episode 2x06, “Tallahassee”. This one’s about the capital of Florida, which is called ‘The Sunshine State’ because there’s a lot of sunshine there when alligators aren’t eating you and/or meth addicts aren’t eating your face off.

Wait, what? Oh, my research team has just informed me that this episode isn’t actually about Florida at all - it’s about beanstalk adventures and flashbacks to Emma’s history with Neal. So no alligators most likely. Okay.

Well, let’s get started!

Well, this is off to a great start already! Every episode should start with Killian Jones tied up in some way, shape, or form. Nice!

“Freakier than I remembered from the story.” YOU AIN’T KIDDING.

“Reminds me of death.” Whoa, now that’s a little melodramatic.

Awww, lookit his face D: “Please untie me missus” *flails at him*

Mmm... Angry untying. That’s nice. The leather’s back. Saucy Hook, yay. “Don’t be afraid to, you know, really get into it.” Haha, he’s so cute <3

I HAVE SUCH A BONE TO PICK AND I’M GONNA PICK IT RIGHT NOW.

Flashback Emma’s glasses really bug me. Like, we see NO sign of poor eyesight in any of the young Emma flashbacks, and no signs of poor vision in present day Emma. It’s like she developed poor eyesight for an isolated year or two in her late teens and it just... cleared up?

Oh, I know, I know, she could’ve switched to contacts. Right. However, we see no evidence of that, either. No glasses in the morning or late at night. No issues with spending an extended time in the Enchanted Forest without access to either glasses or proper contact lens care. No vision impairment on Princess Emma in S6 who wouldn’t have access to glasses OR contacts, etc, etc.

So maybe Lasik surgery? Okay, but how would she have access to an expensive medical procedure that insurance didn’t cover (assuming she even HAD insurance, which, given her age and financial situation, is doubtful)?

It’s like the writers gave her glasses as a cute little character quirk in this awkward “ugly duckling” stage of her life without having any idea how glasses and bad vision actually work. Which would be ridiculous, considering Adam and Eddy both fucking wear glasses.

...and then they went and did it again with Robin in S7. No glasses on her primary persona, but her cursed persona needs them to see. And after the curse is broken... she still apparently needs them. WTF, show?!

Okay, but that outfit is super cute, glasses and all.

Yellow Bug origin story, guys! Is there a ship name for Emma and her car? Like, SwanBug or something? There should be if there isn’t. It’s so pure <3

Hahaha, Neal, you little shit. That grin of his is kinda cute.

~ TITLE CAAAAAAAAAARD!!! ~

Not sure why antis pick on that line of Neal’s about women. I mean, I’m not a huge fan of his, but it’s pretty obvious he’s reading the cop and (correctly) guessing on how to play him to get him to let them off. And Emma even calls him on it immediately - and he basically implies that’s exactly what he was doing. Antis don’t make any sense sometimes.

Okay, not as cute now... kinda smarmy. (Hi Ashley!)

Aaaaaaaaaaaand back to the beanstalk!

Oh, they kinda are getting really into it, aren’t they? Haha.

You know, I find it really hard to believe that Killian Jones would ever use the phrase “Tick, Tock” in casual speech. I’m just saying.

“I was hoping it’d be you.” :D

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ “Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.”

“I would despair if you did.” ∩(︶▽︶)∩

One of my favorite Captain Swan moments riiiiight here:

HOLD MY PURSE, BITCH

And he follows after her like an eager puppy. Total subbie.

DRAMATIC MUUUUUSIC!

*sips beverage* Still climbing, huh? Seriously, though. Did they climb that far without talking at all? Or did Hook just chatter endlessly the whole time? Somebody better have written a fic of him babbling at her for hours.

“I love a challenge!” Hee hee! <3

“That’s not perception, that’s eavesdropping.” And he doesn’t deny it, lol.

“No, I’ve never been in love.” Okay, but she’s obviously lying. That’s a terribly transparent lie, Emma. You can do better.

The sniffing face, heehee.

That’s a pretty good ruse, though. I mean, really. People just sort of trust expectant parents. Although I’m sure it worked better 10 years ago than it would today.

Imagine if she’d pointed higher up. “Our future awaits us in... Detroit.” “Umm, lemme point again.” “No, no, that first point was legally binding.”

“I don’t really... sleep now.” Oh, sure. That’s normal.

This scene’s kinda boring :/

♫ Welcome to the laaaaaaaaaand of CGI and Giiiiiiiiiiiants ♫

“What happened here?” I mean, he kinda told you earlier in the episode.

“Giants can smell blood... and I’m always a gentleman.” <3

The cheerful way he says, “It’s rum!” XD

...and now my entire female reproductive system has died. That is the seventh time this month, dammit. This man is a menace.

Milah angst. Someone hold me T_T

I kinda don’t care about Neal’s problems.

I like this shade of lipstick on Emma, though. Okay, actually, I just like that shade of lipstick. Fun KW fact: Whenever I’m out and buy a new shade of lipstick, when I get home, I always discover it’s the same as all the other shades of lipstick I’ve bought, thinking they were different and so pretty. They’re all this color.

Colin sounds weird when he says, “You ready?”

You swing that bone, big guy! The things this show had him do XD

...It’s Jorge!!! :D Hi Jorge!!! :D I love him! I loved him on Lost, too. He’s just got such a lovely smile. He not smilin’ now, tho. Looks kinda grumpy.

“You big git!” Hahaha, that’s the best he’s got, apparently XD “You wanna kill a human, eh? You wanna kill a human?” The way Colin says “human” here makes me laugh for some reason, and he does it twice XD “Come on!”

“Come on then! Come on then!” I wonder if Colin’s flashing back to that role he played as a football hooligan in Love Is the Drug XD

Him popping up. This scene is so silly and ridiculous. I confess, it’s not one of my favorites, because it kinda borders on cringey in it’s ridiculousness, but it’s also unintentionally hilarious, so...

She’s so relieved <3

This is a good scene. I don’t have much to say about it, but it’s a good scene. Laying the groundwork for the big reveal of Henry being in the room. Ooooh. Also, I love Snow looking after Aurora.

And Aurora’s tiara or hair decorations or... whatever that is... is so pretty.

“What’s your rush?” Hahaha, you adorable idiot. “How long do you think magic knock out powder lasts?” “I’ve no clue,” as he sniffs coins like a derelict. “That’s my rush.” Like, why does she even have to explain this to him? XD

“Everything we need is right in front of us!” Everyone always turns this into some kind of big CS line, but I always thought it just... triggered a memory for Emma, hence the segue into the next flashback. They weren’t even really facing each other when he said it, so I don’t think it was intended to be foreshadowing. Just my opinion, though. Not legally binding :P

Nice sword, Jack. Not pompous at all.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Epic scene alert. “That’s a plausible excuse for grabbing me, but next time, don’t stand on ceremony.” Yooou fucking idiot <3

EAR SCRATCH *jumps on him* *rides him home*

Yeah, I know. All the liveblogs are gonna be like this. I’m so sorry.

Emma, too, is wondering what she’s gotten herself into. “Oh no. He’s sexy and absolutely ridiculous all at once. I am so fucked.” I think this was the moment she realized she liked him. That fucking menace.

Ugh. This train is just speeding towards derailment D: I hate storylines like this, when you just know the shoe’s gonna drop and-

Uh huh. Here’s August now, dropping shoes all over the place.

That drove me nuts the first time, not knowing what was in the fucking box.

And why did she have to go to jail? Like, dump her, leave her alone, fine, but sending her to jail is a bit... extra, isn’t it?

Ah, she’s so broken :( Alexa, play Despacito.

“Try something new, darling. It’s called trust.”

WHUMP! It’s whump!!! Buried in Rock Rubble Whump!!! :D

She’s even more panicked this time. Nice.

Jorge is mad.

Hahaha, I can’t stop seeing Jen in the green donut, though.

This scene is all pretty great, really. I forgot I was liveblogging.

Sweet, summer child. You’re so enamored with Emma and the compass and... Aw, geez. This is why Colin’s a menace. It doesn’t matter who he’s playing or what you think of them. He puts these faces on and tugs your heartstrings and suddenly you’re like, “Oh, look at this sweet, sincere little nugget!”

And then this happens...

It’s whump! BUT WHY DOES IT HURT MY SOUL D:

And then his voice shakes a little. “What are you doing?”

“Emma... Look at me. Have I told you a lie?” D:

“Why do this to me now?”

“You’re just gonna leave me here to die? Let that beast eat me, to crush my bones?” T_T

“SWAAAAN!!!!” He’s so fucking scared D: I died.

Hahahaha, SNOW WHITE WITH THE TACKLE.

I love how Aurora’s the only one who asks about Hook XD

Congratulations. You get a car. And a baby. When you get out of jail.

THIS IS THE WORST GAME SHOW EVER.

DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUN BIG REVEAL!!!

...and the end! PEW PEW PEW!!! <3

[jvdes]

do you think that there’s still hope for me?

tw: drugs, drinking, death, sex (derogatory), vomit, general intense jangst

she’s not counting - she’s no good at math - but jack’s halloween party is two days after mona says she never wants to see her again, and four days after her mom dies. her nose is still healing from when mona’s brother sucker punched her and walked. she barely feels the burn as she does shot after shot, a mechanical motion, a lime in her mouth that doesn’t taste like anything at all. jack slides up to her with a sly grin and says, “i heard you broke up with mona.” except they weren’t dating, not really, so they couldn’t really break up. and if they could, then let’s be honest - mona broke up with jude, not the other way around. “okay, that’s not that i really heard,” he corrects, like he could read jude’s mind. “i heard she broke up with you.” 

jude thinks, only briefly, about maybe explaining that they weren’t dating, not really - but she doesn’t. instead, she just says “whatever,” takes a shot, and scowls as he grins from behind her shoulder.

“cool, cool. so. uh, sammy told me about your mom,” he says, and jude’s eyes flash with rage as she turns on her heel to face him. “i just wanted to say, like - i think it sucks that mona broke up with you when your mom just died.”

and the mention of mona is enough to derail her anger - it’s that sinking feeling, instead. that sick taste of metal. “she doesn’t know,” jude says through gritted teeth. jack wasn’t supposed to know. sammy is a fucking snitch, and a bigmouth. ( of course, jude is a bigmouth, too. that’s why they even talk to each other. )

“oh, seriously? well, i mean, maybe you should tell her - ‘cause, like, look, if there’s ever a pass for cheating, right, it’s the dead mom thing, you know?” he says, and jude sighs loudly, impatiently. 

“jack. why the fuck would i wanna talk about this with you?” she urges. “get to your fucking point or fuck off.”

he takes it in stride, shrugging. “oh, shit, sorry. so, anyways, i thought, like - you’re single now, and if there’s anything that’ll take your mind off your mom dying, it’s sex. with me,” he clarifies, and jude blinks at him. 

“jack,” she says calmly. 

“yeah?” 

“go away,” she shakes her head, like she’s amazed by how fucking stupid he is. 

she keeps doing shots, banking pretty hard on blacking out tonight. she takes a little white pill that might be a new form of meth, or might just be tylenol. ( either way, it’s fine by her. if it’s tylenol, maybe it will dull the throbbing in her nose. ) if the weed or the tequila burn her throat, then she doesn’t notice. and jack keeps coming back. 

“i know you’re gay, but if you let me fuck you, you can say you did once,” he says.

“i think i’d rather shove an icepick in my eye,” jude answers, without really thinking about it at all. he always does this - gets his mind set on something and won’t let it go. jude, being as stubborn as she is, normally deals with this very well - jack is typically the unstoppable force meeting jude’s immovable object. 

“i mean, don’t you wanna say you did it before you die?” he asks.

“are you threatening me?” she says dryly, sizing him up, and he laughs and sips from his red solo cup.

“i just mean, like - if there was ever a time, it’s now. and if you’re gonna experience sex with a dude, don’t you want it to be with someone you trust?”

she’s confused for a second before she realizes he means himself. “i trust you about half as far as i can throw you, jack,” she says bluntly. he laughs again. he thinks she’s funny. ( isn’t that rare? for someone to think she’s funny? isn’t that a pretty big mercy she knows she doesn’t deserve? ) 

it doesn’t matter that the neckline of her t-shirt goes past her collarbone; he’s staring at her tits. they always do. 

“just think about it,” he says, and walks off. jude does another shot. 

she groans audibly the next time he approaches. “on the house,” he says, and passes her a joint. “on account of your mom.”

“i fuckin’ sold you this, jack,” she rolls her eyes. and she doesn’t want his fucking pity. she doesn’t want to fucking talk to him. she wants to do drugs, drink, blackout, and forget she even has the part of the brain that gives you feelings. she wants to sleep through the fucking night for once. she doesn’t want his pity, but she takes the joint anyways. 

“i think we should fuck,” he says again.

she sighs, sways on her feet a little. this again. “is that even legal?” she raises her eyebrows. he’s a grade above her, 18 to her 17.

“age of consent in new york state is 17,” he says, and beams.

“it’s really fucking creepy that you know that, jack. don’t tell people that,” she says, and he shrugs.

“think about it!” he urges again.

maybe it’s the fifth time he comes to her, maybe it’s the twelfth. she’s no good at math. “jude, come on,” he says. “even if it’s bad, you’ll be able to tell people you know you’re gay for sure, ‘cause you tried it. and even if it’s bad, hey, it’ll take your mind off your mom,” he offered. 

and she opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off. but then she feels that ache. she thinks of mona. she thinks of wanting to be loved, to be touched, to stop missing her mom. to think of anything else. and she’s so drunk. and he’s been asking all night - will keep asking all night, she knows that, too, and her resolve is wearing thin. so she thinks about saying no, but when she opens her mouth, what comes out is: “whatever.” 

whatever. so he leads her to his parent’s empty bedroom, with their wedding photo on the left nightstand and a baby picture of him on the right, and she takes off her pants and her boxers but not anything above the waist. they don’t even turn the lights off. she feels so hot, even in a new york autumn. she stares at a spot on the ceiling and tries to pretend he’s mona - or, hell, anyone. a girl who loves her, and not a boy who wants to fuck her. someone who wants her to feel better. someone who cares about the way that she hurts. somebody who - somebody who will touch her and mean it. 

it’s always only sex and fighting with her. nobody can stand to be around her, to touch her, unless she’s giving them something, right? and is the closest she’ll ever get to love being in mona’s bedroom as mona says ‘i don’t even listen to the words that you say?’ and jude guesses she threw that all away on sex with mona’s best friend that she just doesn’t remember. and as jack moans in pleasure, she groans in pain, and she thinks, this is something biblical.

it’s painful and hollow. the ceiling is off-white. the room spins and swims in front of her vision, and she thinks, maybe i’m somewhere else. she thinks, maybe i’m not alone. and she pretends she’s with someone else. or maybe that she’s someone else - the kind of girl somebody could love. maybe even the kind of girl who likes boys, though she doesn’t know why, and she’d never admit it, not with a gun to her head. maybe, drunkenly, she pretends that she’s a pretty girl. a delicate girl. a girl who cries when something bad happens, instead of going out and having sex. she pretends she’s a girl who’s good. and once he cums, it’s like she’s only just realizing where she was, and what she had done. and she looks down from the ceiling, at him, his red, sweaty face, and bile rises in her throat. is this the start? of me letting men do what they want to me? she chokes on a confused rush of shame, and her muscles ache.

it’s this disgust with herself, this shame, but she doesn’t feel dirty, because it’s not like she felt clean to begin with. her heart pounds in her chest, and she thinks, i am so fucking spineless. holy shit. and she’s laying there, staring at the ceiling, and he’s slipping on his jeans chatting about how maybe they should do this again sometimes, and she can’t breathe. what would my mom think? her mom loved mona. 

“get out,” she says, and it kills her, the way that her voice sounds; so weak and watery. like there’s just absolutely nothing behind it.

“huh?” jack says, and jude can feel herself getting ready to split in two, that heat rising in her blood, that weird guilt, that feeling of embarrassment.

“i said, get the fuck out!” she screams, and he shrugs, closing the door behind him, muttering something about chicks, or whatever. and in the harsh light of jack’s parent’s bedroom, she breaks, sobs on her side as soon as she hears the latch of the door close, music floating up through the floor. they’re sobs that wrack her body, make her face really burn, and it’s god awful, it’s embarrassing, laying there on the comforter, naked from the waist down, jeans abandoned by her vans on the floor. 

she cries so violently that she rushes to the adjoining master bathroom, vomiting straight whiskey and stomach acid into the toilet, becoming empty, not that she’s eaten much of anything since - well. she knows. please let me black out, she begs as she presses her forehead to the plastic toilet seat. please let me black out. if i forget this, i’ll never drink again. i swear. please, please, please let me black out. 

she fell asleep on the tile floor, tears in her eyes, praying that she’d forget it all, that she could push it away like a bad dream. she wasn’t sure she could live with the shame of all of it, the drama, the crying, the feeling of him in her, of agreeing to that. she thought she’d rather die, so she prayed to whoever might be listening that she’d black out.

but, then, she’s never been that lucky. 

[angelimortisrp-blog]

G L O R Y (&&) GORE — meet OLIWIA AJETI; the MISFIT.

“let it be known; i did not fall from grace -- i leapt to freedom.”

{ ♚  AT A GLANCE }

name: Oliwia ‘Liv’ Ajeti.

age: 23.

gender & pronouns: UTP.

occupation: Drugs manufacturer for the Romano family.

loyalty: Romano.

availability: Open.

faceclaim: Dua Lipa. ( negotiable to Bebe Rexha. )

{ ♚ A DEEPER LOOK }

Oliwia had never expected her life to turn out the way it did. She coughed slightly on the fumes that were rising from the multitude of jars and beakers in front of her, adjusting her mask on her face to cover her nose a little further. She was a chemist, sure - her degree had certified her of that, but if brewing drugs in the basement of her apartment had been what her parents had planned out for her life, she’d have been the family’s golden child. Oliwia laughed at the thought - she was anything but golden. Her family had cut her off after she’d been caught dealing methamphetamine straight out of college - but she’d been making her own way ever since. The Angeli Mortis hadn’t been where she was expecting to sell her product - but after she’d been caught dealing in Delirium and the Romanos had caught wind of how good the drugs she was creating were, they’d hired her within the week. Two years later, she was more than immersed in the job. Flirting with legality and danger were her favourite pastimes - and toeing the line between the two was the best part of the job.

{ ♚ A HISTORY LESSON }

I’m a trust fund, baby, you can trust me -- born into a family with more wealth than sense, Oliwia was spoiled from the moment she first opened her mouth and let out a scream. The angel of the Ajeti family, Oliwia had never wanted for anything. She grew up knowing that a pout could get her anything that she wanted - a talent that she’s never quite lost. A private education was provided from the moment she could speak; piano lessons and ballet classes forced upon her, shaping her into what her parents wanted, rather than who she would choose to be. Strict parents and such a perfectly scheduled childhood built a teenager with a penchant for lying, an exceptionally clever young girl whose favourite pastime quickly became sneaking around her parents, pushing her boundaries as far as she could without getting into any real trouble. 

It was at sixteen years of age that the Ajeti Angel first fell. A talented chemist with a taste for Breaking Bad, Oliwia decided to cook up something of her own. At a school filled with trust fund kids with a taste for trouble, it wasn’t hard to shift her product. After that, it became a thing. It was always a secret; she wasn’t about to tell anyone where she was getting the drugs, but they were flying out of her home and the money was lining her already overfilled pockets - and she loved every moment of it. From there, her career as a small time drug dealer only grew.

Oliwia graduated from high school with straight As - an intelligent girl by all accounts, and went on to study chemistry at college. If she’d been that good at school, why not broaden her knowledge and build a further career from it? She’d never planned to stay on the straight and narrow, she’d had a taste for danger and treading that line was too intriguing for her to give up. However, things never seem to go the way they’re supposed to and she was caught by her parents. Drugs had always been an absolute no in their household, so when they discovered their angel was dealing them, she was promptly cut off and kicked out. Their trust fund angel had fully fallen - but she lived for it. 

Being cut off wasn’t a problem for Liv - she’d been saving money for years and with ease had purchased herself a new place with a large enough basement to continue producing, all whilst finishing her Bachelor of Science in Chemical Engineering at Columbia University. Shortly after graduating, she decided to make a few steps over her boundary line and found herself in Delirium - it had always been widely rumoured that the club was run by the mob, but who was to believe rumours? She knew that she should have paid closer attention when she was dragged into a back alley and beaten for having the audacity to deal within their territory.

However, a surprising phone call came a few days later. A man named Michael Romano introduced himself and asked if she’d be interested in a job. Now knowing that name and what it meant, Oliwia agreed mostly out of fear - failing to understand just what this meant for her life. After having a taste of her product, the Romano family had decided they wanted more; her product was the purest and most profitable they’d ever had, and she was quickly employed as their main manufacturer. It gave her free reign of Delirium and a healthy profit cut at the end of the month - it didn’t take long for her feelings of fear to change to those of power. It was the danger that she’d always hungered for, and she grew addicted all too quickly. 

The danger that came with working for the mob was almost freeing, as though she had finally broken free of the trust fund bonds that her parents had held her with for years - and she’s never looked back. After two years of working for the Romano family, she’s become their only supplier, and provides their entire drugs operation. She’s since moved out of her apartment and has been provided with a secure facility to produce her drugs, often sleeping in her warehouse as she lacks the trust in anyone else to produce the product to the same standard that she expects and crafts. 

{ ♚ NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT }

Live fast, die young - bad girls do it well. Oliwia has been living on the edge for too long, and she’s been getting complacent. The death of Michael Romano was enough to shake her to her very core - he had been the one who’d demanded her employment, the one to give her a start within her current career and the one to provide her with the protection she’d needed - devastation didn’t cover her feelings about the murder. Juliet Venturi’s death came only a few days later and Oliwia felt even further shaken - if those at the top of the food chain were targets, what did it mean for those like her? She’s still incredibly dedicated to her livelihood, but she can’t deny being afraid. However, that’s not something that she’ll ever show - as far as her facade shows, everything is completely fine, and she’d prefer to keep it that way. Irrespective of that, she’s begun to look over her shoulder on her way home from work, fear that someone could be after her seeping into her bones. However, she’s never once questioned her loyalty. It was the Romano family who asked for her services in the first place, and she remains loyal to Michael Romano and his family, no matter what.

{ ♚ ABOUT THE PERSONALITY }

+: articulate, energetic, hardworking, innovative -: amoral, conceited, fiery, demanding

Oliwia, at her core, is a schemer. Growing up in a strict household has taught her how to be discreet - manufacturing drugs in her parents basement was never an easy to hide job, but she managed. Lying is second nature to her - often finding amusement in playing mind games with those around her, testing to see who catches on first. Liv enjoys games, always has - and she sees her entire predicament as nothing but that. Her perception of danger is a little twisted, she’s an adrenaline junkie at heart. The chance of being caught is always at the forefront of her mind, but toeing the line is another adventure that she’s more than willing to take. Manufacturing and distributing drugs is a lifelong job for her, one that she doesn’t plan on giving up on - and with the volatile environment in Manhattan at the moment, she’s more set than ever on proving herself to the Romano family. Her background offsets her from those around her, always making her a fish out of water with her well spoken tone and her faultless appearance, she no longer tries to fit in, but is careful of showing her loyalty at every turn.

{ ♚ FRIENDS & FOES }

♠ Adam Jackson ( DRUG DEALER ) - “i’m not in the meth business, i’m in the empire business.” ; Adam is one of the family’s primary drug dealers and therefore, one of Oliwia’s closes associates. He’s the one trusted to distribute her product, one of the only ones trusted enough not to take the drugs - and therefore, one of the few people she’ll allow in her warehouse. The two have a playful relationship; almost the big brother that she’s never had, and one of the few that Oliwia trusts in the current tumultuous situation between both families. She knows that both of them are loyal to the Romano family, and would never do anything to jeopardise the few friends that she has.

♠ The Romano Family ( COLLEAGUES ) - “you give loyalty, you’ll get it back.” ; The Romano family are the family she’s created for herself. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, she’s always reminded herself. She’s never admitted to feeling let down by being cut off by her own family, but the Romanos’ have made up for that. With Christian as her boss, she feels part of something; something that has lacked for most of her life. She’s notorious for locking people out, and lets few of the family associates in, but has become friendly with Maria, as well as attempting at a friendship with Sayid, knowing that they are of the same value to the family.

♠ Caoimhe McCoy ( FRIEND WITH BENEFITS ) - “i don’t know what you’ve been told, but this girl right here’s gonna rule the world.” ;  At first, Oliwia believed Caoimhe to be innocent. A tall, blonde fashion designer didn’t seem like the most obvious choice for a Mafia girl, but it soon came out that she was. Liv was surprised, having only met the girl in passing drug deals before; Caoimhe had a penchant for cocaine, and the family were more than willing to provide. However, their relationship quickly grew into something else. Before long, the two were almost inseparable - despite insisting there was nothing going on. Adam is never done teasing Oliwia about her current friend with benefits - but Liv is beginning to believe that there’s something more here ( a feeling that is not reciprocated ) - and the idea of the weakness of love is something that makes her uncomfortable.

{ ♚ EXTRAS }

character teaser.

inspiration tag.

gif hunts.

OLIWIA IS CURRENTLY AVAILABLE FOR AUDITIONS.

[miyajinomori-blog]

Justified call out.

TEGAN is not my dad. I never met my birth parents. I have one half sister by me and a half brother on the East Coast. TEGAN is Not My Dad. For fuck sake.

Quit giving my poor parents a bunch of blasphemous b. S. And stop fucking bringing up snide negative topics pretending to be me, hundreds of fakes… What do you think you are gonna get. Why do you feel the need to hate me so much. Sorry you don’t understand me but you really fucking suck at trying. Get mad at me for my mistakes. Who the fuck is perfect in this world. If you get ticked off that easily get a med card and take vitamins, exercise, and namely: mind your own fucking life.

People who think they’re gonna get any kind-of sexy pic, fuck you. People who exploited my personal and private presents to them, fuck you too. People who spread rumors about me, fuck you too. Does Anyone Ever look at the bigger picture here?

Did you expect to break me and if so, what the fuck was the fucking point. No you did not succeed. You just made yourself look like a gleaming asshole. If I am missing something here given all the fucking perverted references I am tired of looking at, fucking message me and tell me.

Or keep me in the dark and get high off shaming someone who has more on their plate than they are ever willing to talk about. Sorry if it’s a lie to Not tell you how many times I was raped, drugged, molested, kidnapped, psychotic for those reasons, or just desperate for someone to actu-fuckin-really see me as I actually am.

Doesn’t anyone look past the cover of the book.. Doesn’t anyone ever get to know someone before making an incriminating, false, slandering, potentially life ruining, low, and absolutely devastating rumor about someone and think.. I should probably know both sides of it.

When some bro tells you he got nudes of me and I’m a who’re, the fuck does that fucker have to gain but cause problems with us so you silently hate me, break up or not cause we were “never together ” cause I was “never worth it” literally. No sugar coating. And so you start acting like a fucking sick while secretly smoking Meth the whole. Time. Like a childish rebellion to say fuck you, Alice. And you get off being mean to me on some basket of someone else’s self serving lies and that person succeeds in destroying us cause you just.. Couldn’t Fucking Even Ask..ME. Show me the pics I can tell you where all of them came from. Show me your scars and tell me I’m ugly while I say you’re beautiful.

Threaten me again. Post me sexually again. Internet or socially slander me again. And that epic historical baseball bat that Michael hit me in the head with, Will find you.

It will just be sitting there somewhere you go. Drenched in blood. Wet and smeared with fingerprints.. Just there. A reminder. You are the one holding the bat and beating me down like all my past abusers. Sc protect doesn’t do any research do they. My junior prom night, was completely uncalled for.

Quit fucking throwing words around that you know nothing about. April, casino, read a fucking book. This is Hurt speaking. This is heart breaking. Is that how you want to be treated or do you hate yourself so much you gotta bring the most loving person of you with you, then smash their face into the bottom of Your hell and blame it on me like none of you had any hand in this. Haha Yet you can act so proud about what a better person you are cause you didn't get emotional. Woo-hoo you fucking outdated Stoics. Since when did stoicism succeed Ever. Honestly. Numbing yourself makes you weaker. Read about empathetic neurons. Read about anything. Fucking fix a problem with me if you have one and don't waste my time pretending to be my friend and bringing me presents while you're laying me out bare for all the creeps in the world, And calling me a pussy worth raping. Cause I asked for it. Yeah. I deserve to be raped again. I totally deserve that henny bottle to the head again. Really? The fuck is wrong with you malicious content mutilatoring traitors. To you proud "who're slayers" I'll fucking killing you all. To the remembrance of when I wasn't your sexhole garbage puppet in total love for you just wanting to be loved too.. For what made me that way...

The photograph.. I want it.

The videos. I want them.

If I have to go to court as a professional model and take back all my images from the whole world in legal action and pursue every malevolent hand in assistance to my destruction LEGALLY.. I will on Every Front.

You wanna know what I have going on so you don’t feel like I’m a fucking faker, though I am literally trying to not burden others with my struggles.. Fucking ask.

You can’t handle the truth. You think I can’t?? At this point, Try me.

And if all you got are insults and sneering dirty teethed mouthed degrading statements in any way.. You are wasting your life. And like if I ask why.. You better have a damn good reason as to why you are judging me.

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO FUCKING ANALYZE, CRITIQUE, DERRANGE, OR QUESTION MY LIFE.

YOU ARE NOT ME. NONE OF YOU none of you have any idea what it’s like to walk in someone else’s shoes.. No one I know knows as much as I do about the curse of psychopathy.. And no. Just fucking No. I am Not a psychopath. This is called anger and rightfully so.

An emotion. A strong one.

Psychopaths feel nothing. They have no guilt, they are chronic intentional liars, and they enjoy and receive pleasure from the misfortune, torture, or agony of someone else.

If you enjoy watching me struggle. It gives you a little rage thrill. You’re just a fucking sick sick person.

If I’m actually on cam and key logged and root tapped.. You best use it for something good. Otherwise I have hundreds and thousands of papers to put any malignant piece of trash in jail which is hell

The devil doesn’t not exist.

Wow lulcifer is a fucking angel. He’s gonna act like one. I know only one demon who was histrionically proud of having drugged me and hurting me.

Those of you lgbtqn rapists in the bay, you can all die horrible deaths. Or just live forever.. Constantly and ceaselessly bombarded by all your victim trophy memories.

Vanity dolls is fucking disgusting.

Yes I said it. Fucking. Disgusting.

Do not blame me for my doctor induced insanities because I did Not choose to become that way. I would give anything to un-do how much I have been taken advantage of.

This is appropriate anger.