#we drank more and more every day until one of us threw up and then we never did it again lfmao

[autisticlancemcclain]

not a question but i feel like matt would be the type to call mint toothpaste too spicy

he one thousand percent has the dorky strawberry stuff for kids bc he can’t handle the grown up mint and he is mocked every day of his life for it

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Ahhhhh sorry for the late update (Daniella was swamped) but thank you for anticipating this story! I hope you like this and please reblog if you do! Also also also. Have u seen how handsome Seokjin in in every content he releases…I am unwell

Masterlist, Part VI of __

Jung Hoseok was looking at him with visible disgust in his face. The fucker did not even attempt to hide it as he watched his hyung drank another shot of alcohol.

See, he could have drunk alone but this particular mafia prince decided to disrupt their fairly peaceful dinner when he sauntered in with an expensive bottle of whiskey that could feed a community from the price alone. Their conversation was abruptly cutoff when he placed the bottle on the dining table with a thud before proceeding to pour the content in a glass, and then drinking straight from the bottle like the lunatic and eccentric man he was proving to be.

Suffice to say, he was starting to get concerned at his hyung’s actions. He was a man of manners, priding himself to always be in proper decorum and holding himself at such a high esteem. The way he had been for the past few days were anything but the man he claimed to be. It wasn’t only Hoseok who found this peculiar. Park Jimin was nibbling his lower lips in worry, a habit he had from his childhood and was not able to shake off until now.

The brothers, sans Yoongi who was declared missing and presumed dead, all watched as their oldest hyung ignored them and instead, focused on his drinking while actively glaring at his phone as though the silence was offending him.

“This is familiar,” Taehyung commented with his deadpanned voice and continued eating his steak like nothing was amiss, uncaring of whatever was happening outside his dinner he specifically requested from the chef because Seokjin was not in the mood to prepare their usual dinner. “This was you more than a year ago.”

Jungkook looked at knife Taehyung was using as a pointer with a pout. “I didn’t reach that level of patheticness, thank you very much!”

“He’s right, Taehyung-ah,” Namjoon butted in, his hand patted Jungkook’s back.

“Thank you, hyung-“

“He was worst.”

Kim Namjoon enjoyed chaos, it was apparent. He thrived in it, but his cool demeanor and his strictness made it seemed the opposite. The brothers knew better. He wasn’t the straight A student people perceived him to be. Nope, he was much worse with twisted sense of justice and humor.

It can be seen by the way he calmly sipped his wine, the corners of his mouth curling into a subtle smirk as Jungkook exploded and Taehyung dodged the chicken thrown his way. Hoseok, ever the pacifist, didn’t know where to focus his attention to: the two youngest bickering on his one side, or the oldest who had just opened yet another bottle of whisky and was drinking straight from the source as though he had a spare liver and was testing the limits of his current one.

On the other hand, Jimin was on the corner with his phone plastered on his ear. “Hello, bear? Where are you? Come pick me up, I’m scared-” He paused as he listened to the response on the other end. “Hello? Bear?”

“Fine! I’ll just join my favorite hyung!” Jungkook pointedly said as he neared Jin who quietly passed him a glass of whisky. “You’re my only brother now.”

Seokjin suddenly lunged at his phone the moment it dinged with an alert, only to suddenly curse at it much to the surprise of the brothers. The force from which he slammed his phone on the table caused the expensive dinnerware to fear for their lives. Jimin timidly picked up the phone he threw across the table and read the message aloud.

“Dear Doctor Kim Seokjin, I hope this email finds you well. We wanted to extend our heartfelt congratulations to you on your well-deserved nomination- what is this? Are you mad because your research is nominated for a nobel prize?”  Jimin turned to his hyung with a frown on his face. He swore his brothers were becoming weirder and weirder as the days passed by. He was the only sane one here, truly.

Of course, it was perfectly sane to threaten any man who came too close to his bear, Jimin reasoned to himself. Or that he purposefully got injured in assignments whenever he felt like her attention was straining away from him.

Seokjin nodded, grumpily resting his chin on his fist. His thick dark brows were pinched together as he cursed at the message. “Stupid awards.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in realization, “Ah, I get it now. You don’t want award, you want noona.”

This again, Hoseok thought. There was no way his hyung was acting this way because of a woman. He knew his hyung. He was disgusted by women and didn’t find them particularly interesting. In fact, he acted like they didn’t exist and Hoseok thought it was because of his mother. He waited for the denial that he was certain would come…until it didn’t.

Seokjin was silent. The man just literally sat there and drank his alcohol as though he had no plans to deny Jungkook’s ridiculous claim, much to Hoseok’s surprise.

“If you want her so bad, why don’t you apologize already?!” Jungkook shouted, shaking Jin’s shoulder. Ever the competitive one, he caught up to the volume of drink Seokjin intake and now it showed through his loud voice and sluggish movements.

“I already did, you idiot!”

“So she didn’t forgive you! Deserved!”

“As a matter of fact, she did!” Seokjin screamed back at the youngest, the vein in his neck protruding and his ears reddening.

“Then what is the problem, hyung?” Namjoon prompted, even he couldn’t make sense of why he was acting the way he did.

“She forgave me!”

“And that’s…the problem?” Hoseok asked with a tilt in his head.

“Yes!”

“Because?” Jimin prompted, sensing that Seokjin was struggling to articulate his feelings.

“I don’t just want her forgiveness-“

“And they said I was the different want who couldn’t differentiate one emotion from the other,” Taehyung said in a deadpanned manner.

“I realized I don’t want forgiveness. I want-“

“-Her?” Jungkook finished.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Seokjin immediately snapped; his voice was defensive but there was a telltale pause, a moment of hesitation that betrayed his true feelings. He continued, his voice rising with each word, as though he was trying to convince himself as much as the others. “I don’t want her forgiveness. I don’t want her to text me again. I don’t crave her attention. I don’t imagine us running towards each other in a field of flowers somewhere in Amsterdam. And I certainly don’t want her to be the mother of my children!” His voice broke with emotion, and with that final outburst, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving the others in stunned silence until the resounding slamming of several doors broke them out of their stupor.

---

You were deeply focused on your phone that you didn’t notice a certain someone standing in your way. You admitted that it was a bad habit of yours to be so utterly unaware of your surroundings nor the danger that it contained when you were thinking of something. It was later in the future when you discovered just how unsafe it was.

You certainly couldn’t have avoided bumping into him, but he could have– and yet, he actively chose not to. The collision could have been avoidable given the sparse amount of space around. It was five in the morning and the hospital lobby was not yet busy. Your pace was not even hurried and he was literally standing there and watching you with his dark eyes enter the hospital lobby. It wasn’t until you collided with his surprisingly broad chest did you notice him. You would’ve stumbled, maybe even fallen, if his hands hadn’t gripped your shoulders, steadying you.

“I’m so sor—” you began, but your words trailed off as your eyes landed on him. You had been expecting a stranger, but instead, you found yourself looking up at Kim Seokjin, someone you had seen not long ago (more than eight hours to be exact).

You blinked up at him, slightly dazed, as he looked down at you with something warm and unexplainable in his eyes. There was a subtle change in him, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t your concern anymore.

Not your monkey, and definitely no longer your circus.

You pulled away from him immediately. However, you noted that there was a hesitation in his touch before he let you go. It was brief and yet, you were sure it was there.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice smooth and calm. The corners of his mouth curled up in a faint smile, making his eyes twinkle with a touch of amusement.

“No, I should have been paying attention. My apologies, Doctor Kim,” you replied formally, drawing an invisible line between the two of you. Maybe if you did that, you could go back to the way things were before everything got so complicated. Right. It was just correct that you started acting professionally when it came to the Chief. He was, after all, your boss and you had embarrassed yourself enough. If you wanted that stellar recommendation, then you’d have to get your act straight.

You smiled at him and that was when he lost his. You bowed and proceeded to walk away from him, your attention back to your phone as though his presence could no longer affect you. There was something telling him that maybe it was true.

How could you just…brush him off like that?

How could you just go on while he was beating himself for pushing you away?

And how could you expect him to just accept what he found to be unacceptable?! He wasn’t Kim Seokjin, a trained Mafia prince, renowned doctor, billionaire, and the worldwide handsome for nothing.

“Ah!” he groaned dramatically clutching his chest where you had bumped into him, his voice echoing through the quiet hospital lobby. He made sure it was loud enough to grab the attention of everyone around him, including the staff. They immediately ran over to check on him, their eyes wide with concern.

You paused, frozen mid-step, feeling the eyes of the entire room shift toward Seokjin. You could sense it—theatrics. This was exactly the kind of scene you had wanted to avoid, but of course, Seokjin was never one to let things go quietly.

"Doctor Kim! Are you alright?" one nurse asked in a panic, while another was already dialing someone—probably a medic. Someone even was screaming emergency as more people gathered around him.

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a moment to summon whatever patience you had left. He left you no choice. Had you leave, you would look like a bitch. Turning on your heel, you walked back to where Seokjin stood, still clutching his chest as if he were on the verge of collapse. His eyes met yours, sparkling mischievously despite the serious expression he tried to maintain.

“Really, Seokjin?” you muttered under your breath.

---

“Doctor Y/N, your negligence caused serious physical injury not only to anyone, but to our very own and beloved Doctor Kim!”

You flinched at the HR Department head before sneakily shooting Seokjin a hard glare. Seriously, he sent you to HR just because you bumped into him?! How petty could he be?

The answer to that was too petty.

Even petty couldn’t even begin to describe this!

Seated across from you, with an exaggerated pout, Seokjin held a warm compress to his chest as though nursing a life-threatening injury. Next to him sat the HR Department head, looking utterly serious.

"How are you feeling, Doctor Kim?" the HR head asked him, to which Seokjin gave a pathetic little whimper.

"I'm recovering," he replied, dramatically wincing as if your minor collision had left him grievously wounded.

You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to scream. This man is unbelievable! You weren’t just in HR because of a bump. You were in HR because Kim Seokjin wasn’t ready to let you go. Or was it his ego that couldn’t let go? You thought for sure that it was probably the latter.

“Did you even apologize, Doctor?” the HR head asked, her brow raised and eyes filled with judgment.

“Of course I did—” you began to explain, but before you could finish, Seokjin interrupted with a dramatic sigh, leaning further into his chair.

“It feels like she wasn’t even sorry,” he muttered, his voice dripping with exaggerated hurt.

Your jaw clenched, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. You shot him another glare, your patience wearing thin. “I literally apologized right after I bumped into you,” you protested, your voice tinged with frustration.

The HR head frowned, turning her disapproving gaze back to you. "Doctor Kim seems to think otherwise," she remarked.

Seokjin's lower lip jutted out in a pout as if your mild collision had ruined his entire week. He clutched the warm compress on his chest more theatrically, glancing at you with puppy-dog eyes.

This was so beyond ridiculous, but you had no choice but to play along for now. "I apologize again, Doctor Kim," you said stiffly, the words forced but necessary.

He shook his head slowly, “I don’t think I can function well this week…”

Of course, the HR head ate up his performance without hesitation. Her face twisted in concern as she asked, “How can we make this better, Doctor Kim?”

Seokjin didn’t miss a beat. He lifted his gaze toward you, looking up through his lashes with the faintest smirk hiding beneath his pout, as though he was plotting something.

You braced yourself.

“Well,” Seokjin began, his tone measured and sweet, “perhaps if Doctor Y/N could make amends...by spending a little more time making sure I’m alright. After all, accidents can have lingering effects,” he added, his voice a mixture of innocence and something else entirely.

Your patience snapped. “I bumped into you. You’re not a fragile vase!”

But he wasn’t going to let this go that easily, and judging by the look on the HR head’s face, you were stuck.

“Enough. Because of the inconvenience you caused to Doctor Kim, you are suspended for a week.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. Suspended? For bumping into him? This couldn’t be happening. Your brain raced as you tried to process what had just been said, but all you could focus on was one fact—you couldn’t afford to be suspended. You literally couldn’t afford to lose a week’s salary.

Your crestfallen face almost made Seokjin stopped this act, but he couldn’t lose you. At least, not yet, he thought. Not until he figured out why his heart was fucking hurting when you weren’t around. Or why he was up all night because the thought of you leaving his life made him tossed and turned all night. Or why he was acting like a devious, Slytherin brat (something Jimin would surely was) just to keep you beside him.

“Or she could just assist me the entire month it’ll take me to recover-”

“Whole month?!” you repeated, dumbfounded at what your ex-crush was saying.

Seokjin’s eyes blinked innocently, as though he wasn’t pulling the strings of this ridiculous charade. “What?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, as if he didn’t understand the problem. “This way, you’ll get paid. Plus overtime. Plus premiums. Plus dinner with me everyday. What more can you ask?”

You stared at him, your jaw hanging open as you tried to process the audacity of his proposal. The way he smirked, leaning back slightly with a look of self-satisfied victory, only served to increase your frustration. This was outrageous, but somehow, you knew he was serious.

“Are you kidding me?” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t just—”

“Actually, I can,” Seokjin interrupted smoothly. “And I will. Unless you want to risk a suspension that you clearly can’t afford. It’s your choice.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. Seokjin had you cornered. He was offering a solution that, while absurd and humiliating, was far better than the alternative. And the way he leaned in, as if he was sharing a secret, made it clear that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Well?” he prompted, still wearing that smug grin.

[letstripdotcom]

losing sleep - matt sturniolo x fem!reader

a/n: much needed enemies to lovers bc i’m a SLUT for enemies to lovers. also country song fic bc i’m a little southern girl🤠

summary: matt sturniolo was the boy you hated most. it wasn’t always that way. one day he just decided he hated everything about you. that was until you slowly started to break down every wall off hatred and anger.

warnings: smut (eventual) mentions of being drunk/drinking, mentions of family problems

well i’ve been losing sleep

like a man loses time

reminiscing over memories

bouta lose my damn mind

he was the kindest, sweetest person to walk the planet. he was absolutely adorable. everyone admired him, and worshiped at he’s feet. matt sturniolo could do no wrong. he had the sweetest smile and the kindest eyes, and he didn’t have a mean bone in his body

but that wasn’t the case for you. matt hated you actually. he couldn’t stand being around you. you genuinely didn’t know why either. you didn’t have a reason to hate him, other than the fact that he hated you.

every time you spoke, he would shut you up by throwing a mean comment at you. when you walked into the room he would groan. he just seemed so bothered by you, but you never asked why. the once time you tried the only thing he said to you was “don’t ever talk to me again” and so you didn’t.

you and matt were best friends at one point. you spent every day together one summer and you were inseparable. you would wake up, go to the triplets house, do whatever, and when the moon came out your adventures had just begun. on the night everything changed you were too blacked out to even recall what had happened. you just woke up the next morning and matt wasn’t talking to you anymore.

-

matt’s pov:

people constantly ask me why me and y/n don’t get along the way we used to anymore, and as much as i want to tell them it’s because i hate her, she’s a terrible person, and things will never be the same, i know that’s not the full truth.

yes i hate her annoying voice, and i hate when she talks about boys, or when she comes to nick crying because some boy broke her heart. i hate the way she laughs and i hate how she squeals when she gets excited. i hate everything about her, but i used to love her once.

it wasn’t until a drunken night in late july that everything changed. y/n and i sat out by the pool at her house as we passed a bottle of pink whitney and talked about our lives. a lot of that night was a blur. but i remember kissing her. we were both so shitfaced, and so stupid.

“hey matt?” she spoke up “hmm?” i turned my head to look at her, as the world around me spun. “would you ever kiss me?” she asked. “i don’t know y/n, why?” i stared at her trying to read her expression to see what she was thinking. she leaned in and kissed me like it was something we did all the time. it was messy, but it was sweet. but what i didn’t expect was what she said to me after.

“matt i think you should leave.” she slurred

“y/n i’ve been drinking i can’t drive.” i argues

“you can sleep on the couch tonight but you need to be gone by the morning matt, i can’t do this.” she demanded

“do what?” i asked

“i’m sorry matt. goodnight.” she got up and stormed inside

and that was the night everything between us changed. i wasn’t friends with y/n after that day. when people noticed the distance between us, i had told them we got into an argument. i told them how much i hated her for it, and i told them i would NEVER love her the same again.

in august, my friend nate threw an end of summer party. i went, but i avoided y/n at all costs. i sat by his pool alone, downing a bottle of malibu. i wanted to just drink until i wasn’t thinking about y/n, but it’s like she never went away. the more i drank the more i thought about her.

i pull out my phone as i start to type her contact in. i’m so drunk i can barely make out the letters, but i try my best. i need to call her. i just have to make things right. i know she’s got nothing left to say, but i should call anyways. just then, nate comes outside. “yo matt are you okay?” i didn’t call her that night, and i didn’t fix things.

-

time skip

-

i roll my eyes when i walk into my house and hear her voice. she’s laughing about something. i hate that stupid laugh. what could possibly be so funny? i scoff as i walk by. as i pass nicks room, it takes me a few moments to register she’s not laughing, she’s crying.

just then, i get a text.

nick

y/n is having serious family problems right now, be nice when you get home pls!

i’m not home right now, but she needed a place to stay.

me

👍

i stand outside nicks door for a moment before turning to the kitchen. i grab my tub of mint chip ice cream and a bag of blue takis. those were our favorite snacks when we were kids i quietly walk up to nicks door and knock lightly. she let out a broken “come in” i opened up the door with a soft smile and i hand her the snacks i grabbed

we didn’t speak to each other at all, but we didn’t need to. she took the snacks and scooted over on the bed, signaling me to sit down. i sat down and engulfed her in a hug. she pressed her head against my chest and began sobbing.

i held her in my arms all night. we didn’t talk, and she just cried. i never wanted to let go of her and expose her to whatever else could happen to her. i didn’t need to ask her what happened, and she didn’t need to ask me why i was letting her do this. eventually, we fell asleep. i held her like if i let go she would disappear.

part 2 tmr! ❤️

[honeybeefae]

For ACOTAR bingo, can I request a nsfw mating ceremony with Cassian? I love the idea of an Illyrian mating ceremony 🔥

Tradition (Cassian x Reader)

BINGO: Mating Ceremony

(AHHHHHH this was so much fun to write! Also, I came up with these vows all on my own and I’m kind of obsessed with it. I know Illyrians are famous for treating their women less than kind but consider this an adapted version where it’s more tender. I hope you guys enjoy it!!)

WARNINGS: Smut

“Under the moon of the Mother, I take you under my wing and into my soul.

I promise to protect and provide for you, to care for you, and to worship you every 

Morning, noon, and night. You are the wind beneath my wings, the stars that guide 

Me, and the spirit that was destined to follow mine to the ends of time. I swear this 

By the Cauldron, the Gods, and the Mother above, from this day until we 

Become anew. This I promise to you.”

The entire crowd erupted into applause as Cassian pulled you into a kiss, dipping you dramatically as you grinned into the kiss and threw your arms around his neck. You felt like you were on cloud nine and you knew your mate did as well, especially as he picked you up and spun you around. 

Rhys, who was officiating the mating ceremony, clapped both of you on the shoulders with a warm smile. The two of you turned toward your friends, your mouths holding the brightest smiles they had ever seen, before walking down the aisle that was covered in petals of roses.

You were quickly swept away into the grand reception, which you were all too happy to plan and decorate. It was a little fancier than Cassian was used to but the way you looked in your dress and how happiness just radiated off of you, he didn’t mind at all. 

Traditional Illyrian dishes as well as more modern fae meals were served to everyone, wine and other cocktails flowing freely as the two of you drank and danced the night away. As the night went on you couldn’t stop his wandering hands from getting lower, your giggles of anticipation only spurring him on. 

It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning that you finally called it a night. Feyre, Rhys, Nesta, Elain, Az, Amren, and Mor were the only ones left as they wished you a pleasant honeymoon. You clung onto your mate as he walked with you into the open field just past the party, both of you smelling of wine and excitement.

“Shall we, my mate?” You cooed, smirking when hoisted you into his arms. He gave you another long, passionate kiss before taking off into the night sky. 

You squealed at the takeoff, the ground below you spinning before you closed your eyes and relished in the wind flowing over your body. Cassian watched you, absolutely entranced with your beauty, and felt his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t believe you were his. 

He swooped down as he found the small cabin made for just the two of you. It was a mating gift from Feyre and Rhys, somewhere far away from the river house which you assumed meant they knew what the two of you were going to be getting up to. 

The only sound that could be heard as you landed were crickets and your laughter as he carried you through the front door and straight to the bedroom, dropping you in the middle of the bed. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Cassian flirted, watching as you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I think this might be the tenth time but I certainly won’t complain if you tell me once more.” You smile, gazing up at him through your lashes.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night, not that I normally can anyway.” He murmured, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. “You are breathtaking…and all mine.”

Your heart fluttered at the low tone of his voice as you stood up to kiss him, enjoying the way his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you impossibly closer. The urgency grew the longer the kiss went, his hands groping your ass and needily tugging at the strings of your corset.

“I’m going to rip this damned thing off of you.” He growled into your ear, kissing your neck as you playfully hit his arm.

“Nuh-uh, this is a special dress, Cass. Give me two seconds.” You hummed, running your thumb over his pouted lips before slipping out of his arms and into the bathroom. 

It was the first time you felt like you could breathe since this morning as you took a moment to rest against the door. Collecting your thoughts, you began to hurriedly undo the ties of your dress. You and Cassian had had sex before but this time would be different, this time you were mates. 

It felt like you were going to lose your virginity all over again.

You rushed to prepare yourself, adjusting the lingerie that you hid underneath your dress. There were some supplies sitting on the bathroom counter that you used to freshen up as well. It took you all of five minutes but you knew how impatient your mate could get so when you finally emerged from the bathroom, he was already waiting with his hand raised to knock.

Shyness blossomed inside as he devoured you with his eyes, looking down at the floor and taking a deep breath. You felt two fingers come underneath your chin before your head was lifted to meet his gaze, his lips inches from yours.

“Why are you so shy?” He purred, voice dripping with sex. “Let me see you.”

After taking a small breath you took a step back, letting him see all of you. His pants were straining from how hard he already was as his nostrils flared and eyes darkened, licking his lips as he started walking towards you.

Despite yourself and your desire for him, you started staggering backward, your heart skipping as your knees hit the back of the bed. Cassian gave you a feral grin and pushed you backward gently, his body following yours as you fell onto the soft mattress. 

“Gods,” His breath ghosted over your lips while his hand trailed up your leg, catching on the garter on your upper thigh. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

“I think I’m the one who got lucky.” You whisper, cupping his face and pulling him down to connect your lips. His scruff scratched against your skin in a tantalizing way, sending a pleasant hum that went all the way to your core as his fingers got closer and closer to where you needed him most.

The scent of your arousal was already thick in the air by the time he caressed the lace of your panties, watching every expression you made as he dipped a finger in shallowly to test you out. It made you gasp, your hips moving to try to get him to push in deeper. 

“I’m going to try my very best to be gentle with you,” Cassian said while pulling your underwear down and letting it fall to the floor. “But I make no promises.”

He thrust two fingers into you slowly, making sure to flex them inside to stretch you out for his cock as you felt your entire body heating up. You bit down on your lip and groaned, breath hitching when her curled his fingers in search of that sensitive spot inside. 

“Cassian-” You gasped, the rest of the sentence dying on your lips when he finally found it. His lips latched onto your neck as he sped up his fingers, making sure to hit that spot every single time until you were already on the edge of coming undone. 

It was becoming too much, too fast, and you wanted him to slow down so that this moment wouldn’t be over so soon. However, your mate had other ideas. He could see you trying to squirm away so he placed a heavy arm on your stomach, pinning you still.

“Now, now, princess. Don’t try to get away from me.” He growled into your ear, looking down to watch his hand fuck you before back up to your face. “I want to feel you cumming all over my fingers. I want to feel that delicious pussy clench around me, feel you drench my hand and the sheets. Do you understand?”

You nodded, your toes already starting to curl as he held you down. You had no choice but to feel everything. He clicked his tongue and bit down on your ear, tugging it with his teeth. 

“I want a yes sir, princess.”

“Y-yes sir,” You whimpered, your back arching as he smirked and started using his thumb to rub small circles on your clit. It pushed you into heaven as you tightened around his fingers, your mouth hanging open in a silent cry as pleasure washed over you over and over again. 

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.” Cassian praised into your skin as he fucked you through the orgasm, moving his arm off your stomach so he could yank down the lingerie and free your breasts. He started lavishing them with his tongue, taking each nipple into his mouth to suck and bite. 

All of the attention was sending you into overstimulation and you were grateful when he removed his fingers, your eyes hazy as you watched him suck all your juices off. 

Cassian kissed you once more, quick and hungry, before raising back up to undo the ties of his pants. You could see how hard his cock was and weren’t surprised by the wet spot that had formed on his boxers, your mouth watering as he unveiled himself. 

“I love when you look at me like that.” He smirked, stroking himself a few times before climbing back over you. “I want to fuck you like this so I can see your face when I make you cum all over my cock. Do you think you can be a good girl and do that for me?”

“Yes sir.” You smile, your body still tingling from your last orgasm as he rubbed himself up and down your soaking cunt. Cassian pushed in inch by inch until he was bottomed out inside you, a full body shiver running through him from how good you felt.

His hands grabbed yours and put them above your head as he rocked into you, his wings stretched out as you arched into his thrusts. Your already lust-filled head was going into overdrive from the gentle way he was fucking you, too much and yet not enough at the same time.

There was a small spark lighting up in your chest as you stared into his eyes, both of you sharing the same breath, and when you pulled him close to whisper your dark desire that spark turned into flames.

“Please, Cassian, please just take me. Fuck me. Don’t hold back.”

Something shifted in his face as he watched you, waiting to see if you were going to change your mind, before you were suddenly lifted into the air with his hands grabbing your ass as leverage. He shoved you against the wall, the coolness a nice contrast to how hot your body was. 

“You want me to use you like this? Fuck you like a barbaric Illyrian?” He snarled, biting down on your shoulder as you cried out for him. 

“Yes, Cass, yes!” You whined, that thread in your soul slowly unwinding as both of you neared your climax. Cassian could feel it, his desperation growing each second as his wings cocooned the two of you into your own little world. 

Your nails dug into his muscled arms as you pressed your forehead against his, your chest heaving as white, hot light seemed to explode from every nook and crevice of your soul. This was unlike any orgasm you had ever felt. It felt like you were the only two alive, the only two that mattered, and for the first time you felt everything that Cassian was. 

Love. Lust. Wonder. Comfort. Mate. Mate. Mate.

He nuzzled into your neck, right where your pulse was fluttering, and inhaled deeply. It was a primal reaction to the bond and before you could blink he bit down again, a carnal urge to mark you in every way possible. 

“You’re all mine. All. Fucking. Mine.” He followed his words with sharp thrusts, his balls tightening up with the need to release. You nodded, craning your neck as he continued to bite and suck every inch of exposed skin. When you had enough mind to open your eyes, you saw just how close his wings were.

You reached out and stroked them softly, letting your nails rake down them which sent him toppling over the edge. He roared into the night, spilling himself deep within you as left a final bite right above your breast. It was raw and carnal and everything you wanted as you followed him with your third orgasm of the night, milking every last drop of his cum.

Cassian held you still on his cock until he went soft, raising his head just enough to see the marks he had left across your beautiful skin. He grinned when he saw how red and purple they were already becoming.

“I love you, Cass.” You murmured, wiping the sweat off his brow as he gingerly set you down on the floor. “More than life itself.”

“From this day until we become anew.” He echoed his vows from earlier, kissing you softly as the bond between you sang with happiness and devotion. You couldn’t believe how blessed you were to be mated with him, to be able to spend the rest of your lives with this man.

And as he gave you that smoldering look, his eyes alight with mischief, you were also thankful for how blessed he was with that insatiable appetite reserved only for you. 

[r1vrsefx]

party

rafe cameron x reader

summary: yn decides to end things with rafe… but can she?

warning: toxic relationships, drug abuse, coke, drinking, kissing and implied sex

"I just don't know what to do." y/n sighed from the passenger seat. "I know you don't want to hear this but he's toxic and he treats you like shit half of the time. And that's coming from his sister." Sarah looked over at the girl.

y/n and Rafe have been dating for a good six months. for the first few months of their relationship it was great, he would buy her flowers, take her on dates, basically just spoil her.

That was until he started using. When he was high he could care less about her. It was very rare when he was sober and good to y/n. She couldn't put up with the constant fighting, him disappearing for days and his aggression towards her.

She's been thinking for the last couple of weeks if he is really worth her time and energy. "I mean it's not the best to hear but it's true" y/n sighed as they parked. "I know. I'm sorry." They got out. The music was loud and could be heard from down the street. The smell of weed and alcohol could be smelt through the air.

Sarah and y/n always went to Toppers annual end of school party . Everyone knew Topper threw the best parties in the OBX. And everyone always went , the kooks, the pogues and even the tourist who are just visiting.

They step foot into Toppers big ass house and went straight to the coolers for beer. "Hiya." Topper came up behind Sarah wrapping his arm around the girl. "Hi." She giggled.

"Hey Top, have you seen Rafe?" y/n questioned. "Uh yeah he's down in the basement." He motioned to the door leading down there.

"Good luck." Sarah smiled. y/n flashed her a smile before going down there. Music rang through her ears. She tried her best to get down there successfully with out tripping over any people sitting on the stairs.

She spotted Rafe, sadly snorting coke, sitting at a table with girls surrounding him. She sighed and made her way over there.

"Hey baby!" He shouted over the music. She sat in his lap as he drank. "Why don't you let me do some lines off your stomach, yeah?" He lifted her shirt a little. She grabbed his wrist, "No let's go talk."

"No we don't need to talk." He scoffed. "Rafe come on." She got up and he followed. She pulled him into one of the guest rooms. She sat on the bed and he sat next to her.

"You're scaring me." He laughed. "We can't keep doing this." She told him quietly. "What are you talking about? We are fine." He scoffed.

"No Rafe, we aren't. We're toxic. You couldn't give two shits about how feel anymore. All you care about is drugs and your stupid fri-" She was cut short.

"You know that's not true! You know I love you!” He raised his voice. "Not the way you used too." She looked away tears pricking her eyes.

"Come on baby." He placed his hand on her thigh. She removed his hand, “Don't call me that." She got up. "Please don't leave me. I need you." He pleaded. "Stop making this difficult Rafe." She let a tear fall.

"I love you." He grabbed her hands. "No you don't." She couldn't look at him. "You have no idea what I'm feeling." He shook his head. "Please give me another chance. I promise I'll be better. I'll do whatever you need me to do. I'll- I’ll get sober." He used his hands to talk.

"You say that every time." She turned around so she was facing him, running her hands through her hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist and started to plant soft kisses on her neck. "Rafe." She groaned. "Mhm?" He continued.

"Stop making it hard to hate you." She turned around. "One more chance, please." He smiled willing. No matter how many time Rafe messed up she would always love him. No matter what, it would always be him."One more. Than that's it, I mean it." He hugged her.

"Let's go to your place yeah? I'll make it up too you." He smiled.

[inherstars]

Prospect | Ten Questions (More or Less) | (2 of 2)

What am I even doing with my life. Previous section here.

Cee woke to coughing.  Not hers but Ezra’s, an ugly cycle of shivering, asthmatic inhales and wracking, sputtering hacks that he couldn’t stop.  She sat up enough to see him across the half-dark room, his body bent over the edge of the cot, good arm thrust stiffly to the floor to keep from toppling out of bed.

He wasn’t kidding.  That came on fast.

She threw off her blanket and stumbled barefoot to the sink, fumbling a plastic cup from the dispenser and filling it with water.  She set it aside long enough to help him get sorted upright, though he continued coughing, desperate for air.

After an eternity he caught his breath, and Cee coaxed the water into his hand.  He tried to shake his head but she manually forced his fingers around it until, reluctantly, he drank.

She didn’t quite know what to do here.  Her father tended to his own wounds and maladies and shitty moods, rejecting her every suggestion or attempt at ministration.  This was uncharted territory… probably for them both.

Cee plastered a hand to the back of his neck.  Across his forehead.  He gulped and closed his eyes and murmured in his throat.

“It will pass,” he croaked.

“Yeah, but you’re still going through it right now.”  She left him for a few seconds, stealing a thick stack of tri-fold paper towels from the wall dispenser and soaking them thoroughly.  When she came back to the bed she laid it across the back of his neck, and he shuddered in relief.

“I… I apologize for waking you.”

“It’s fine.”  She resettled alongside him, hip to hip, hands dangling between her knees. “My internal clock isn’t off, like yours.”

“That’s a relief, actually. Only one of us should be this incapacitated.”  He sighed, finishing the rest of the water in a few long, sustained swallows.  That was a good idea.  She was a smart kid.  He exhaled and set the cup down on the table. “However, I think I am done sleeping for the time being.”

“Yeah.  Me too.”

They sat in silence for awhile, Ezra’s whole body seeming to rise and fall with each labored breath.

Eventually Cee asked, “...do you want to play a game?”

He didn’t reject the idea outright, but it was obviously a novel concept to him.  Most of the things he’d once done for fun could be counted on -- and executed by -- the hand he’d left behind in The Green, and he doubted that’s what she had in mind anyway.  What the hell kind of games did teenage girls play?

“Are we… wagering?”

She looked at him strangely. “Seriously?”

“What? That’s the last sort of game I played.  Well.  On a technicality, I suppose that was actually Russian Roulette.  In which -- in the event you are unfamiliar with the specifics of that particular game -- I was the victor."

“No, I… I was thinking, like… twenty questions.”

He looked worried.  “Twenty is a lot of questions.  May I make you a counter-offer of ten?”

Cee sighed.  She adjusted the wet fold of towels on his neck.

“Okay, ten.  But I get to start.”

He gestured at her gallantly.  Be my guest.

“Why do you talk like that?”

He sat back, thrown.  “Like what?”

“Like…” God, where did she even start?  “I don’t know, you’re like… a walking, taking Terms of Service contract.”

He huffed.  “Might be you’re just unaccustomed to to the vagaries of speech from someone who’s been so long--ohhh.  Oh, alright, I hear it now.”

In rare form, Cee actually cracked a smile.  Ezra settled back into a slouch, thinking it over.

“Well.  What are we but a sum of the people and places we surround ourselves with.  I have always been surrounded by the type of people who… sound like me.”  He looked at her.  “Can’t say as I’ve ever had it pointed out before, and we’re blind to the things we see and hear every day, so.  There you are.”

She nodded, seeing the sense in that.  “Okay.”

“Is it my turn now, is that how this game of yours works?”

“Sure.”

He squinted.  “How old are you?”

Well, that was easy.  “Sixteen.”  When he sat up again in surprise she pressed, “How old did you think I was?  You called me a little girl back on the moon.”

“I didn’t mean anything either improper or untoward by that, it was merely an observation.  There are no children in The Green.  Or, at least, that was my experience until we ran into the Sater boy.  I suppose it escaped me that they were… interbreeding out there, to horrific results.  You also were not, to my initial impression, excessively womanly in your appearance or carriage.”

Cee squinted at him.  “What does that mean?”

Ezra was immediately uncomfortable.  “...can we just skip to the next question?”

She gave him an odd sidelong look, then asked, “When did you start going gray?”

He suspected this was a roundabout way of asking him how old he was, but opted to be evasive.  His palm passed alongside his head, smoothing the sparsely silver-flecked black.

“I am a few years out from my last beautician appointment…”

“No,” Cee corrected, and reached out to tug the little white lick of hair at his right temple. “This.”

“Oh, this?” He brushed it thoughtlessly with his fingers.  “I forget that’s there.  No, that’s not owing to my advanced years, that’s always been there.”

“Always?”

“Near as I am aware, I was born with it.”  He smiled.  “I always thought it made me look distinguished.  It’s my turn again, no?”

Cee nodded.  While he gathered his thoughts she took the towels from his neck and went to drench them again at the sink.  She nearly missed his question under the sound of running water.

“Where is your mother?”

Cee twisted shut the spigot, standing there for a moment.  She could feel the precise spot on her back where Ezra’s gaze rested.

“Uh.  Dead.  She died when I was still pretty little.”

“Any other family?”

Returning to his side, settling on the cot’s edge, she carefully laid the towels back into place.  In spite of himself he closed his eyes and let out an indulgent breath.

“No.  None that I know of, anyway.  My Mom died while we were living on Cavaria.”

“How did she pass, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Are we stacking questions?”

“I am in no condition to count right now,” Ezra said.  “So take that as you will.”

Cee sighed.  “My Mom got sick.  The doctors never figured out what it was from.  They were still running tests, trying to diagnose her when she just… died.  Pretty suddenly.  It left us -- my father and I -- in a lot of debt.  He decided to take up prospecting to help settle everything.”  Her eyes slipped sideways to him, vaguely surprised to find him still focused on her, serious and soft, actually listening.  She wasn’t used to that.  “That’s why we were on The Green.”

Ezra breathed in deeply, deeply, facing forward again, his exhale so long and slow and soft that Cee couldn’t even hear it.

Her father had a plan, before he and Number Two intervened, throwing her world and everything in it completely off axis. Perhaps it was their fate to strike it rich.  To fill their proverbial pockets with aurelac and jet for the open skies.  It should have been them, the two of them, father and daughter, sharing this little berth, celebrating the changing winds of fortune and making ready to head home.  Wherever home was, these days.

Oh, but then he had to sidestep into the picture, didn’t he?  Enter, stage left.  As he always did.  An unwelcome visitor who wouldn’t leave.  A splinter embedded under the skin too suddenly and too deeply to be excised without a lot of bloodshed.

He made a difficult sound in his throat.  “Cee, I…”

“It’s my turn again.”

Ezra checked her hesitantly, but her face read the same.  Even, calm, consuming volumes just by by staring.  His head dipped in one small, solitary nod.

“Okay.”

“What about you?  Any family?”

Fair was fair.  It was moments like this one where he missed the ability to rub his hands over each other like a kinesthetic pacifier.

“Ah… if I did at one time, I assure you, none of them would claim me any longer.  No… similar to you, I am an orphan, and -- at least in my case -- probably better off for it.”

“Do you remember your parents?”

“My father, yes.  I lost my mother at a similarly young age, though mine fled out of necessity, and not to Gabriel’s divine bugling.”  He shrugged his shoulder.  “I don’t know the specifics of their courtship, nor too deep the grisly details of their matrimonials, but what I do recall of my father… well, let us just say that I do not fault the haste of her flight.  I also ran like hell the very instant I had the chance.”

What she didn’t ask -- what Ezra hoped against hope she woudn’t ask -- was whether or not he missed her.  In truth, he didn’t remember her enough to miss his mother in any appreciable way, and despite his assertions there was still a thread of underlying resentment for leaving him behind, making him the sole focus of his father’s disapproval and abuse and -- when he was very lucky -- neglect.  So… miss her? No, not precisely.  But he still felt the absence, the pain of missing what she represented, not unlike a phantom limb.

Cee didn’t ask the question, perhaps reading his discomfort in the back-and-forth shift of his eyes.

What she said was, “I’m sorry.”

This turned his head more abruptly than anything else could have.  For a second he didn’t know how to respond, unexpectedly moved, unexpectedly humbled.

“Thank you. I’m… for what it’s worth, I’m… sorry, as well.”

About her mother.  About… God. So many things.

But once again she wasn’t moved.  She didn’t needle or fish for an apology.

“It’s my turn again, isn’t it?” he asked.  She nodded.  “Feel free not to answer this…”

“Okay.”

“Did you, Cee… cry for your father?”

It caught her off guard, to be sure, but not in a way girded by anger or grief.  She had to look away for a moment, actually unsure of her answer.

Did she?  She must have, right?  She should have.  What kind of daughter didn’t cry for her father?

But in reviewing the events of the moment -- the crack of the gun, Damon’s body collapsing into the ferns, the report of Ezra’s own weapon as he ended her father once and for all… there was nothing.  And then later on -- crashing through the greenery to get to the Pod, trying and failing to ready it for flight, floating in a pleasant, chemical delirium… she still can’t actually remember breaking down into tears.

But she grieved him, didn’t she? After the initial shock wore off, surely…

Didn’t she?

Once again Ezra waited, watching her, unmoved by anything else.  Cee looked at him uncomfortably.

“Perhaps we’ll come back to that one,” he said softly, decisive.  She nodded tightly.

“Um. Me again?”

Another singular nod. “You again.”

“Okay,” she breathed out, licking her lips. “Be honest?”

“Me?”  Ezra sat upright. “I am always honest.”  At her look he amended, “I am occasionally creative with some of the unimportant details immediately surrounding the truth, but I am still, nevertheless, technically honest.”  He gestured at her.  “Ask your question.”

Cee said, “Were you going to trade me to those… people?  The… what were they called?  Saters?”

“No.”

Immediate, abrupt, unwavering.  Against her better judgment she believed him, but -- as usual -- he didn’t let it rest there.

“It’s a fair question you ask, make no mistake.  I would wonder it myself, in your diminutive, decidedly womanly shoes--”

A whole-ass eye roll. “Okay, okay.”

“--but, despite occasional appearances to the contrary, I am not a monster.”

“But you hesitated,” she pointed out.  The source of her doubt.

“I did.  Longer than I would have liked.  We were outnumbered, and I was in a bad way.  I needed to figure out how to get us out of it with the least casualty.”  His head tilted lightly, thoughtful.  “Your abrupt exit was probably exactly the turn of events I needed.  So.  Thank you for that.”  Without missing a single beat he said, “My turn again.”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you come back for me?”

The two questions were an odd dovetail, to be sure.  Cee struggled with her answer.

“I… I couldn’t leave you.”

“Certainly you could have.  But you didn’t.”

“No…”

“But why?”

Sighing, she reasoned, “Probably for the same reason you wouldn’t have left me with those people.  I’m not a monster.”

“Yes, but I told you to leave me.”

Cee leaned away from him, disdainful.

“You have a lot of bad ideas.”

“Hm.”  He reached back to fix the damp stack of towels. “That’s a fair assessment.”

“Did you think I would leave you?”

“Is that your question?  I’ve lost track, admittedly.”

“Sure.”

He sighed and sank into thought.  “Well.  Yes.  I did.  And it isn’t because I thought you were a monster.  To the contrary, I just… didn’t assume I had earned such mercy, let alone that level of salvation.”

Although she already knew the answer, in part, Cee murmured, “Have you done terrible things?”

“I killed your father.”

Well, there it was.  Plain black and white, no technicalities, no creativity with the details immediately surrounding it.  He killed him.  The bullet came from his gun.  Willingly, with premeditation, with compete knowledge of what he was doing.

When Cee still didn’t acknowledge the admission, Ezra continued, “Everyone has done terrible things for which they feel unworthy of being forgiven.”

“I haven’t,” she countered, but blandly.  A reflex reaction.  She was sure, given enough time, she could think of something.

“You saved me,” Ezra pointed out.  “And if I’ve done terrible things -- and am capable of continuing to do them, of which I don’t think there’s any doubt -- doesn’t that mean, by extension, that you are perpetuating the terrible things I may one day do to others?”

But she wouldn’t be tricked into hating him, even in a circuitous fashion.  Him or anyone else.  She was done with all that.

“No. I plan on keeping you in line.”

Ezra smiled.  Wholly and without reservation.  He had so hard a time losing his smile that he finally had to look away, head bobbing in an agreeable nod.

“Well. I like that.”

Cee reached out, laying the backs of her fingers to his forehead, then gathered the towels from his neck.

“I think the fever backed down.  You should try to sleep while you still can.”

“I will do that.  And you as well, alright?”  He scooted back onto his cot as she stood.  “I’m aware you don’t have the same need for temporal realignment as I do, but I don’t trust you not to go through my things while I’m indisposed.”

Another eye-roll.  Oh yeah, she was definitely sixteen.

Cee consciously waited until Ezra’s breathing evened, becoming more sawing and restful, before she stretched out on her cot.  She was attuned to his gentle shifting as he rolled and tossed, unable to find a position that didn’t either make him cough or press uncomfortably on his limbless shoulder.

Somewhere around the time she tried to make a mental list of all the ways he’d need to learn to acclimate to life without it, she too drifted to sleep.

It wasn’t coughing that woke her the next time, but the stuttering and shivering of his breath, and the dice-rattle chattering of his teeth.  Again she propped herself up, squinting through the dim room, and made out his huddled shape as he hugged his blanket around him, quaking with chills.  Sleep had deserted him, and the fever was back.

“N-no--” he objected when he saw her stand.

“Shut up,” Cee sighed.

“Just--g…go back to sleep.  It has to pass on its own.”

But by then she’d already grabbed her pillow and blanket, dragging them across the room to his cot.  She tried the switch on the kotatsu but, as expected, it wouldn’t even turn on.  Silently she climbed over his legs, tossing down her pillow, and billowed the blanket to fall over them both as she laid down behind him. There was a nice hollow right at his back, and she snuggled into it, relishing the sense of being near to someone again, connected more intimately than just an enviro-suit tether.  Ezra sighed so deeply that for a split second she worried he’d breathed his last.

“You are… a good egg,” he said.

She was stunned to silence for a good minute.  She hadn’t cried for her father, why now did her eyes burn and well?

“...Am I?”

“Undoubtedly.  The finest little bird.”  His breath caught, and he lolled his head back toward her.  “Oh. I nearly forgot.”

“What?”

“A gift.  Can you reach my bag on the floor?”

She sat up, reaching over his outstretched legs, and delved hand into his bag.  She knew by touch which of its contents was for her, hand closing around the old paperback and dragging it out.  Even in the dark she knew its dog-eared cover, its velvet-soft corners, its foxed spine.  

Cee sat back excitedly, paging through it, overwhelmed.  This was not just a copy of Streamer Girl, this was her copy. Her notes were still in the margins.  The tiny thumbnail photo of her mother was still tucked like a bookmark between pages.

She looked at Ezra, his head still turned back enough to smile at her.  He couldn’t have been more pleased with himself.

“Where did you get this?”

“Well,” he began.  “I recalled that you said you had lost your copy, and that your father was happy about that.  I believe in coincidences.  But I did not believe in that particular coincidence.  After I was dispatched from the infirmary, and before I beat a hasty retreat to the commissary, I paid a visit to the ship’s lost and found.  Funny thing, isn’t it, that they’d have one?  But you’d be surprised what goes missing, on a ship this big. Sometimes by accident, and sometimes… well.  There you are.”

Cee looked at the book again, stroking her fingers down the cover.  She pinned it to her chest as she eased down, inching into the warm space at his back.

“Thank you.”

Ezra faced forward again, gazing off into the room.

“It’s not an entirely unselfish gift.  I would like to read it.  Or perhaps to have you read it to me.  I am notoriously bad at concentrating.  Afterwards… perhaps not immediately, but some day, you will share with me your continued adventures with your ‘friends’.  The ones you yourself have penned.  I admit I’m much more curious about those, specifically, but I can be a patient man when the situation warrants.”

Cee folded her arms, book pinned to her chest, and cuddled into his back.  He sighed again in tired relief.

“One more question?” He asked.  “I can’t recall whose turn it was…”

“Sure.”

“Would you like to stay with me, little bird?  When we fly this place?  I cannot promise luxuries, and of course there will be hard work involved, but -- as I am a man of my word -- I promise I will try to make it worth your while.  I am even open to negotiation of the finer points of such a partnership.”

She too stared into the dark, overwhelmed, though her face revealed little.

When she was too long silent, Ezra added, “If you need more time to think about it--”

But she didn’t.  She wormed in close against him, cheek pressed to the back of his shoulder blade, and loosened one hand from the fold of her arms to lay gently on his ribs.  His fingers found hers, resting lightly overtop.

“Alright, then.  Seems we have ourselves a deal.”

[pitifulbaby]

desperate

summary: I’m starving, darling. Let me put my lips to something...

pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

warnings: smutish? foreplay ( i am not good at warnings, its smutty but nothing happens fully. )

a/n: alright so i didn’t think i’d be writing and posting once again but here we are. so for like the last few days this one line from hozier’s unreleased song has been looping through my brain nonstop, so, here we are! enjoy! 866 words.

Eddie Munson didn’t think he was a desperate man, he was used to having little to nothing and being grateful for the things he had and making do with what he’s got. Sure he was deprived of many things, but there was only so much he could do about his past. 

He didn’t like to think he was desperate for things, it made him feel weirdly selfish to be desperate for things. He wasn’t judging others for being that way, he didn’t care if a person wanted something bad they felt desperate for it. He just didn’t want that for himself.

And he was doing good with that, living with that mindset.

But then he met you. You, with your pleated skirts and sweater vests- your beat up converse paired with frilly socks. The smudged ink that seemed to always be present on your skin no matter how often you cleaned it off, it would always make its way back. The way your nose seemed to scrunch as you laughed, the way your pinky seemed to always jut out even the smallest bit when you drank anything. 

You, You, You.

Eddie never thought he would feel this way over a girl, didn’t think he would be the one to fall head over heels for someone. He just never thought love would find him, sure he wanted it, but he wasn’t desperate for it. Eddie kinda just figured if love was meant for him that it would find him eventually, but as time went on that hope seemed to fade. Well, of course until you.

He felt like a man without water and his only cure would be you. It wasn’t until you walked into his life did he realize he really was deprived, he went so long without you in his life and how he managed? That was unknown to him. How with a glance, a touch, a smile, you seemed to change the entire trajectory of his life. 

He knew the moment he saw you that you were the missing piece of his life that he never knew was missing. You were this light at the end of the tunnel, this light that hit him head on out of nowhere- you consumed his entire being in all the best ways. You suffocated him in a way that he didn’t want it to stop.

You, made Eddie Munson desperate. He needed you in every single way. 

All he knew in this moment was you, he pressed kisses across your skin, only your skirt and bra adorning your body. You were laid out against his bed, the sheets ruffled against your back and head pressed against the pillow that he favored. Your hair was creating an almost halo like effect against said pillow, it was messy yet perfect to him.

He lets out an almost shaky breath against you, on his knees as he leans over your body. His hands were placed on your waist, soft and feather light touches as he trailed his hands down to your skirt. Eddie tugged the garment down your legs and threw it over his shoulder, which in turn caused you to laugh. 

You felt him smile against your skin, his hands moving to graze at the sides of your thighs before he tugged your legs open more, staring down at you through hooded eyes. His own hair was messy- messier than usual. His shirt had been the first article of clothing to leave, a usual make out session turned more as his desperation for you seemed to grow more and more- like usual. 

“M’ starving, darlin’,” His words were slurred as he spoke to you, whenever he got like this his voice seemed to drop a bit lower, resting more in his chest. If you listened close enough you could hear the faintest accent in the moments he seemed most relaxed. The smallest tracings of a southern accent swirling through his vocal cords from being raised by a heavily southern Wayne Munson.

He turned his head to press kisses against your knee, his hands sliding up from your thighs to your hips to pull off your underwear. His movements were slow, causing you to shift your hips and whine at him, which only made him laugh this time.

Once your underwear was with your skirt somewhere thrown in his room to find later, he hummed at the sight of you. Still sitting back on his knees he shuffled closer, his jean clad thighs brushing against the back of your thighs, the cold metal of his belt chain pressing against your ass. One hand pressed flat against your stomach and the other pressed into the pillow right by your head. He leaned down so his face was inches from yours. His messy, frizzy waves creating a curtain around you that locked him in.

“Let me put my lips to something.” His words that were once slurred, now more firm and sure, an almost sinister smile curling at the corners of his lips. The hand on your stomach trailing down to cup your heat.

Eddie Munson might be completely and utterly desperate for you, but you were all the same for him.

[river13245]

The Last time (Tony Stark x Reader)

Angst, no happy ending

Warning: Alcohol and Tony being an ass kinda

This was not part of the plan, nor the agenda for the night. You hadnt planned on going out and getting drunk. However when Thor and Natasha both came up to you telling you that you should go with them to the bar, you couldn't just say no.

What you didn't expect was Natasha to participate in a drinking game with Thor. The both of them had a much higher tolerance than you, since Natasha drinks more than you do. Then with Thor being an actual god his tolerance is so high that you think he will drink up the whole supply. But when they started asking you to join the game and taunting who were you to say no. If you were anything...its competitive.

Thor and Natasha both had a higher tolerance than you since you didn't drink much. It also doesn't help that Thor was a literal god and Natasha drank at every party Tony threw..which was quite often.

So after an hour or two you were drunk while they were only tipsy.

Even in your drunk state you knew this was a bad idea but before you could stop what you were doing you had knocked on Tony's front door. Tony and you had an off and on relationship. The problem was he couldn't ever just commit to you.

Before you could turn to leave, the door opened and their stood tony wiping off his hands with a wrag and wearing his sweatpants and a tank top. He then looks at you "y/n"

"Tony" you said softly, Your eyes were red and wer leaning against the doorframe. "are you drunk" he asks and you shake your head but instantly regret it

He sighs "I thought we both said that we wouldnt see each other anymore." You steady yourself against the door and cross your arms glaring at him. "Yes I know that you said that..i just..I know this is a bad idea but can you please just hold me for a minute."

He nods and wraps his arms around your waist pulling you close to him. Your face rests against his neck and arms wrap around his torso. This is all you have ever wanted, all you have ever wanted was him.

You were getting lost into the moment that when he pulled away you had to force yourself not to frown. He pulls his phone out "im calling you a cab so you get home safe" you nod

Once you got home you climbed into bed and thought about all the times you would go back to each other. You always knew it would end the same way but it was like routine. It wasn't ideal but you get used to it after a while

-----

A month or so goes by and you had promised yourself you wouldn't go back to Tony. You had been able to keep things professional between the both of you. Everything seemed to be going fine until one night you heard a knock on your door.

You were in your pajamas watching a Disney movie when you heard the knock. The only people who ever came to your place was Natasha or Thor so when you opened the door you didn't expect to see Tony.

Especially the state he was in. Tony looked as if he had been crying, his hair was a mess and you could smell the alcohol he had been drinking. "Tony" you said in a soft voice not wanting to speak to loudly.

He placed his hands on your upper arms and looks at you "y/n I am so sorry for the way our relationship is. You mean the world to me and I don't know why I cant change for you. But I want to, I really do."

As he speaks you smell the alcohol and you know this isn't really him talking. This is how it always goes, you let him into your heart over and over again just to watch him go again. It never gets easier. He never sees the way you ache for him to love you for longer than a few days before he leaves again.

Placing my hands on the sides of your face I kiss your cheek and I repeat the words I always tell him. "its always been you Tony, I wish you would see that"

He looks at me and nods but I say something else. Something new that I haven't said before. "this is the last time I let you through my door" He kisses my lips before pulling away "this is the last time, I wont hurt you anymore."

You knew how this was going to end. But you figured why not one more time. A little love now is better than none at all right?

-----

How wrong you were, you had told yourself you wouldn't let it hurt you. Not anymore but when you woke one morning to find Tony packing his bag and grabbing his keys it still hurt just like all those times before. "Tony"

He freezes before turning to look at you. "y/n". Looking at him as tears fill your eyes you nod "There's someone else isn't there?" Tony refuses to look at you for a moment and that's all the confirmation you needed.

"I'm tired of asking to be the one you want. When time and time again you leave and break my heart in a blink of an eye" The hurt in your voice is very noticeable and he walks closer to you and says "I wont hurt you anymore" before placing a kiss to your cheek and walks out of the house. Leaving you behind for the last time.

[shelby-fangirl00]

1919-Part one

(Fluff)

Word Count: 1576

 (This is my first time writing my own fic so please be nice but also please give feedback! Thank you! I will be posting more chapters very soon if you guys like it!)

                                              --

‘Mornin love,’ I yawned as Finn shook me out of my sleep. I rubbed my eyes and adjusted to the gloomy morning light peering through my bedroom window. Another dreary, wet day in Birmingham.

‘Aunt Pol needs ya help in the kitchen this mornin. Said were feedin an army now.’

As Finn closed the door behind him, I shuffled over to the window. Looking out at Watery Lane. I saw some local boys picking on a girl their age. Couldn’t have been older than 6 or 7. As I watched them tease her, it brought a small smile to my face. Watching them reminded me of my childhood and growing up with the Shelby brothers.

Having Polly as a Godmother had its perks. My family, the Manson’s were a small Gypsy family that were close friends with the Shelby’s for many years. I grew up around the boys and Ada. All of my fondest memories are with them. I missed when things were simple, back then. Now, things are so different.

Tearing myself from the window, I quickly got dressed to help Pol. I rolled into some black stockings and a silky, black corset dress. Looking in the mirror, I sighed at the sight of my hair. Messy and untamed. I quickly threw it into a full and messy bun, blonde fly-aways and fallen strands sculpted my round face nicely. My dark grey eyes looked back at me through my bathroom mirror. I wondered if things would ever go back to normal around here, or what normal even looked like now that the boys were back from the war. It has been one week since their return.

Four years ago, Arthur, John and Thomas all left for the war and now, they were finally back in one piece, all three of them, which is more than other families got back.  

When they left, my mother was still alive and well. Just six months ago, she had died. No one was to blame but herself. She became paranoid and depressed, always drinking, always seeing things that weren’t there. Eventually, she drank herself to death. Died drunk in her sleep.

When she died, I had no family left other than my Godmother, Polly. My father had died when I was just five. Polly took me into her care and showed me the ropes. She offered me a bedroom as long as I helped her with Finn and the house. I have been living here for six months with Finn, Ada and Polly. Now, my three best friends were back and we were all under one roof. 

I rushed down the stairs and strutted into the kitchen. 

‘Mornin’ then Pol,’ I chirped while kissing her on the cheek as she was leaning onto the stove top. 

‘Right, mornin love. Sorry to wake ya so early, you understand?’ She said while looking up at me, smiling. 

‘Don’t mind at all, Pol. I’ll set Finn up, eh?’ She nodded to me and I started working on his breakfast. I enjoyed taking care of Finn with Pol. I felt protective over him. The only family he had was Pol and Ada. That is, until last week. 

After a while, I was met with the sounds of feet shuffling down the stairs.

‘Mornin Jasmine!’ John came up behind me, sneaking a kiss on mycheek and a small squeeze to my shoulders.

 ‘Will I be blessed with this type of treatment every mornin, then?’ John grinned wide at me while sitting down with Finn and Poly at the kitchen table. 

‘If you were smart, you’d be wise to kiss the arse’ of those who handle ya food, eh?’ I said as I sat a plate of hot food in front of John at the table, giving him an innocent wink. 

Arthur followed suit and sat down next to John at the table. 

I sat a plate down for Arthur as well, giving him a loving squeeze to the shoulder. He grinned wide at me. 

‘Well thank ya love, you’re too good to us.’ 

As I turned back to the kitchen, I was met by the sight of Thomas leaning in the doorway. He was nicely dressed, just as his brothers were. A newly tailored grey coat and slacks, with a white-collared button up underneath, cap in hand. His icy blue eyes met mine. 

‘Mornin Tom, ya eating today, eh?’ I sighed out, walking past him. As I walked around the kitchen, Tommy’s eyes scanned my body slowly, not caring if I had noticed or not. 

‘Not today, love. Boys, we should get to it. We’ve got business to attend to outside of the shop today.’ Another day of Tommy avoiding any type of conversation with me. 

With that, John and Arthur stood up while shoving their faces full of food before walking out the front door.

I stood in the kitchen, peering over at Tom, who was still leaning into the doorway.

Tommy’s presence was always intimidating. Even though I’ve known him my whole life, it was difficult to be close to him again. It was like he was never real after he left, like I made him up in my mind. I also forgot about how his presence sent a fluttering and warmness through my entire body. 

Tommy and me had been together on and off since I was 15 years old. We always had a different type of relationship compared to his brothers. He was more than just a friend to me. He made me feel light as air and always left my skin on fire. I missed him too much while he was gone. 

The night before Tommy left, we were intimate for the first time. We wanted to share something together before he left. We didn’t know if we would ever see each other again. I wanted to wait for Tommy, but he insisted that I don’t hold out for him. He didn’t want to ruin my future if he was to die. Now, Tommy was back after four grueling and lonely years, and we haven’t talked much other than greetings and goodbyes. 

I assumed Tommy wasn’t interested in me anymore, by the way he was acting. He would barely look me in the eyes until today in the kitchen. I wondered what had changed in him. I knew he had been visiting Lizzie most nights. It wasn’t my right to question it. I didn’t want him to know I cared. But I wondered why he’d rather pay for it when I’d willingly give myself to him. I missed the way he touched me, the way his fingers felt on my skin. Being near him was such a rush. He used  to feel  like the closest thing to home. 

‘See ya at the Garrison tonight, eh?’ he said lowly, holding my eyes in his. 

‘Only if you’re buying my drinks, yeh?’ holding eye contact with him as I placed my palms flat on the kitchen sink.

He chuckled and threw his head back to face the ceiling. 

‘When’s the last time ya had to worry about payin for a drink, Jas?’ 

My heart nearly flooded out of my chest when he called me by nickname. He was the only one that ever called me that.  

I couldn’t help but give him a warm smile and turn away to busy myself. He walked out of the back door, giving Pol a small nod. 

Pol gave me a cheeky grin and shook her head. 

‘Oh Jasmine, that boy is still head over heels for ya, isn’t he?’

You spun around to meet her gaze. 

‘Pol, he’s been home for days and has barely spoken a word to me. That was the most he’s said the whole week! I’m not gettin my hopes up to just be let down. You know this.’

‘Give em’ time darling, he’s not fully back yet. He’s still got a war goin on in that thick head of his, eh? You’ll be back in his bed in no time, dear.’ She stated while taking a drink from her tea cup, unbothered. 

‘Pol! He could still be outside listenin to us goin’on about him like we’are!’ We both laughed at this. Polly was usually always right about these types of things, but this was different. Tom was different this time around. He was a man now. He wasn’t as full of pure life as he was back then. It broke my heart that he had seemed to become such a cold person now. But I had grown too, quite a lot. I’m not the same as I was back then, either. 

The rest of my day was spent cleaning up and babysitting Finn. Since I am living here, Pol pulled Finn out of school and is having me stay with him. I enjoy spending time with the little man. He reminds me of his brothers. So sweet and charming and also can make me laugh without even trying.

                                                      ---

As I laid on my bed reading an old dusty book, later that  evening, Ada barged in. 

‘Jasmine, Pol and I are about to head over to the pub, ya comin with, right?’

‘Only if ya promise to get drunk with me tonight, then yeh.’ I teased while ascending down the stairs with her. 

‘Oh, fuck off, you’ll be fallin over by the end of the night if John gets his hands around ya, eh?’ we giggled down the hall. 

[deliontower]

to love is to destroy | h.a | prologue

Paring: Haymitch x Giselle Carmine (oc)

summary: the games don’t end at the sound of the last cannon, they don’t end at all

word count: 672

warnings: a lot of talking about what happens to victors after the games, mentions of death and injury, mentions of vomiting, drinking and mentions of drug use, angst, fluff (very small). All warnings will be mentioned before each part

a/n: Again I was inspired by @nebulablakemurphy and they’re amazing Haymitch fic! There way of expanding the world is mind blowing and I can’t recommend it enough, divider by @cafekitsune

This may or not be deleted and rewritten as an x reader. I wanted to try out an old so i can be more descripted about the MC

HUNGER GAMES MASTERLIST

Ladies and gentlemen The winner of the 55th hunger games, Gisella Carmine

She woke up gasping, the now cold bath water splashed onto the tile floor, the sun was high in the sky, afternoon, the reaping. Swearing she climbed from the tub and wrapped herself in a towel. The night before the games always left her with little sleep, at one point she gave up and ran a bath. 

It wouldn’t be long until the cameras and the people arrived in the square, Haymitch would need waking from his white liquor induced sleep. 

Reaping days were the hardest days to get through, for both of them. Haymitch drank and forgot. She cooked and she baked and she tried to forget.

A dress had been sent days before, every year a new dress would come and once she reached the capitol, a whole closet  awaited her. The dress hung from the curtain rail in her room. A golden collar embedded with gems and diamonds looping to make open shoulder sleeves, the dress was made from red velvet and hit the floor.

She ran her fingers through her hair, detangling the curls until they looked good enough for all the eyes of the capitol to see. The bags under her eyes disappeared after she rubbed some of the magic cream the capitol sent. 

As she passed the downstairs toilet, she heard Haymitch heave and cough, his skin was pale and wet. Carefully she knelt beside him, even more careful not to get anything on her dress. She laid her hand on his forehead, “It’s almost time”.

Haymitch wobbled back on to his ass, his back against the wall, he reached inside his dressing gown pocket for his flasks, he took one big gulp, “nice dress”.

Gisella rolled her eyes, taking the flasks from him, swallowing a mouthful, it burnt all the way down and sat in her empty stomach unhappily, then she took another drink. Normally she never drank, but when the games began things were different.

“How long do we have?” he asked, slowly standing. “Five minutes maybe? Not long enough to shower” she laughed, standing too.

“Enough to drink” he smiled sluggishly and took the flask back. 

She went into the kitchen and made herself eat some bread she had brought from the baker the day before, it helped settle the nervous waves cursing through her body.

It would be a waste to try and get Haymitch to eat so she left him be and waited.

Haymitch was late.

Mayor Undersee and Effie Trinket, murmured to each other, worried about the missing mentor. Gisella kept her eyes forward, blocking them out. Looking to all the faces of the children dreading the moment she would send two in the games. 

The clock hit two and the mayor began his usual speech, about the history of panem and how things ended the way they were today. From the uprising, to the fighting and finally ‘the peace’. The peace of course being the games. Then he reads the list of district 12 winners, only two are living. To her right, Gisella hears Haymitch mumble and wobbles up the steps. She fixed on her seats as he fell into his.

He looked confused when the crowd applauded at his name,he threw his arms around Effie, who barely managed to get away from him. All of Panem will carry on seeing 12 as a laughingstock. Haymitch as the same old drunk and Gisella as the one who does all the work.

Mayor Undersee took his seat again, then the pink haired Effie rose and took to the centre of the stage. If Gisella had to guess, Effie was looking to step up to bigger and better districts, 12 is the bottom of the pile. 

Old memories flash in her mind, wishing she drank more in the morning, she looked past the square, past the people and to the green hills outside the districts and remembered happier times with her grandfather.

“I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute”

two

[n0r]

I got bored a few months ago and wrote this so 🤭

Keigo Takami threw the best New Years Eve party in the whole country. They were unrivalled, unmatched by everyone who tried to this day. Since breaking through the top 20s in the hero charts, he’s been throwing a party every New Years Eve every year, each one better and bigger than the last, and each time they happened, you got an invite, unsurprisingly, even more so, was the fact that you always slept over, and always helped clean up, in spite of Keigo's protests. He almost always insisted, “Y/n, go take a shower and make yourself breakfast while I do this, it’s fine.” and every time you’d shake your head and start picking up bottles and confetti and clothes and wrappers and those crackers that are always left over from christmas.

This time, something else had happened. It started off simple, Kiego called, like he did every year, just like clockwork, at 5pm on New Years Eve, leaving about 2 hours for you to get ready, and every year, you wore the same black dress, one that hugged your body perfectly, working with each curve and bump and looking beautiful. He always arrived at your door at 7pm to bring you to the same town gathering as always, you heard the mayor speak to everyone on what a good year it was and how he hopes the next will be even better before you go back to his house and help him prepare what's left to do for the party in an hour or so.

As people file into Keigos apartment, you both begin chatting with different people until it hits 11:45 pm and you’ve realised you hadn’t seen much of him since the party started, with him trying to catch your attention every now and then before being pulled off, so you never actually got to talk. You excuse yourself from your current conversation and push past the crowd until you get to the kitchen island, where you hop up, trying to spot the unmistakable red wings of his. You frowned at not seeing anything close to what you were searching for, while you scanned the room again, you felt something light and soft brush against your neck. You were about to turn around and yell at the weirdo touching you without so much as asking until you flicked your eyes over to the left just a little and a bright flash of red you recognised immediately, zoomed to face you; a small downy feather.

It swirled around your head for a minute to draw your attention before wrapping around your index finger before pulling you down off the island and into one of the spare rooms of the apartment. You turned the corner, raising an eyebrow as you see Hawks leaned up against some sort of photo booth.

“Wanna take this baby for a spin?” He questioned, using the hand that wasn’t holding a glass of expensive looking and tasting whiskey, which matched yours, only with less in it since he drank more than you had. ”Has that line worked for you yet?” you asked, laughing at him. Keigo shrugged, opening the curtain a little to let you through once you stepped forward. “Haven’t tried it yet,” he replied.

You took a seat in the booth, Keigo sliding next to you with a cocky grin. He finished his glass of whiskey, setting it down at his feet before he leaned forward to press some buttons. “ so, how’re you finding the party?” he asked, grin staying put since he knew what the answer would be. He always knew, because it was always the same . “amazing, like always.” you both spoke at the same time before you burst out laughing at him, a little tipsy from 2 hours of drinks. “You always do the same things every year. The party only really changes a little, but its all the same formula. You call me in the afternoon, we go to the toast of the town, then we come back here and I help with whatever's left to do, then we party till 3am, I stay over in your spare room, and we clean up the next morning.” you shrug, making him huff. “It’s not always the same, it changes.” he defended himself, shaking his head at you before poking your cheek, you smiled at him, laughing before he grinned at you and a flash shined from the booth. The first picture.

You shook your head at him. “No, no it’s always the same. Same people, same drinks, same food, same songs, it just gets bigger each time,” you shrugged. Hawks shrugged, resting his hands on your hips before he leaned in to rest his head onto your shoulder as the machine flashed for another photo. “It’s different, dovey, you know it, i know it, we all know it, its not ever the same. Nothing I do is the same.” He whispered, voice muffled due to his face being pressed into your skin. You shrugged, “name one thing that's different.”

He lifted his head as you tilted yours, and before you could react, he pressed his lips to yours. You could taste his lip balm, and that fresh air scent that followed him everywhere, despite whether or not he flew that day. His hands kneaded your hips, while yours rested on his face, holding either side to keep him in place. The machine flashed for the third picture, making you pull back, both to register what the hell just happened and to catch her breath. “Kei,” you huffed out, trying desperately to get air back into your lungs.

Keigo chuckled under his breath at you, pressing his forehead to yours as the machine took the final picture. “Happy new years, Dovey.”

_________________________________________________________________________

You woke up the next morning to a pounding headache and a weight around your chest and hot air being blown onto your forehead. You whined, pushing away from the heat and turning around, despite the bait. “So fucking warm.” she complained, using her hands to push at the weight so it would go away. “Good morning to you too,” Keigo grinned, his arm pulling you closer to him. “No, stop, you’re way too warm, Kei,” you frowned, moving to sit up. He didn't stop you, though his arm rested on your lap instead of around your waist.

“We need to clean up. I can start if you wanna shower for work?” you offered, lifting his hand off so you could slide off the bed. You frowned realising your clothes had been changed; instead of the dress you wore when you got to the apartment, you wore one hell of a long ass t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “Hawks what the hell?” you frowned, looking down.

“What? You asked me for those, I didn't put em on you, I watched but i didn’t help.” he shrugged, yawning. “Classy.” you sneered, padding through the apartment to get to the kitchen. You grabbed a black bin bag, and started picking up bottles and wrappers and cups and any sort of rubbish that made its way to the ground. When Hawks finished in the shower, he came out to help, starting from the bathroom since every year you refused. You’d made it to the spare room with the photobooth, clearing out around it and wiping down the seat so Keigo could send it back. Reaching into the dispenser, you pulled out a little stack, frowning at the amount of lewd images she saw, of both strangers and people she knew thanks to hawks. Throwing them out, she got to the last one, her and Keigo. Them smiling at eachother, him whispering against her shoulder, the kiss, the afterword. The kiss. “Holy shit the kiss.” She whispered, keigo turning the corner and into the room. “You almost finished here?” He tilted his head when you didn't respond, peeking over your shoulder before he snatched the photo strip from your hands. “Hey look, its us!” he grinned, pointing at it.

“Really? God, I couldn't tell. Don’t you have work?” you frowned, turning to him. He shook his head, taking the bag from your hands to put outside the door for pickup. “ i’m off today, so we have all day to sit and talk.”

[satans-helper]

Reaching for Stardust - Part XX

Read Looking for Space here / Playlists / Read RFS on wattpad or read previous parts here

Word Count: ~3800

Warnings: none <3

A/N: Well, my friends, we've made it--the final chapter. I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to. I started it weeks ago but kept faltering. Ending stories is always the most difficult part for me, and letting Josh and Darling go again does hurt my heart a bit. I love these characters and this story and thank you to every one of you who asked me to write this sequel <3 Thank you to all who have taken the time to read it too! <3 I had so much of this mapped out in my head and in various notes that writing most of it felt easy--this last chapter, though I had planned most of it, didn't feel so easy. But I'm happy to say that I'm satisfied with it. I hope you are too <3

---

Nothing at all really changed after we were married. The sun still rose each morning, though not always visible through winter skies. But when it was there, it cast its warm, stunning light through our small but cozy apartment; it threw golden rays across Josh’s serene, pretty face as he slept in our bed and it warmed our sheets as the cold days trickled on. 

I still watched Josh whenever I woke up first, same as always–I watched the shallow, even breaths that made his chest move slightly, the gentle twitch of his eyebrows as he dreamed. I watched the stretching of his limbs when he first began to stir, and the slow blinking with long lashes as he began to open his eyes into the morning light. Then the light would catch in his bronze irises and create a kaleidoscope of diamonds and color, leaving me bewitched and smitten just as I had been years ago. 

And still, with rings on both of our fingers, the smile that graced his sleepy face, on those perfect lips as soft as rose petals, shined even brighter than the sun outside and each morning it looked brand new to my eyes. 

Winter carried on. January staggered on by us in shades of gray and what would normally be a constant state of agonizing monotony wavered into a brighter couple of weeks, even if the sky really was pale and devoid of sunshine past the dawn.

February came on fast and our little world, our little home, was splattered with bold colors–pink, red and purple everywhere, because we’d decided to lean into the commercial capitalism of Valentine’s Day with loads of decorations and frivolity. We went out to dinner, sat beneath artificial warm bulbs and drank wine and talked about the past and the future, but it all felt less painful and less daunting then–I could only explain that emotional relief existing because of our union and because at least this part of our future was solidified. 

But when March came around and we were in the dregs of another Michigan winter–the slow, muddy, wet and snowy days that dragged on and on–and more talk of the future commenced when the boys called a “meeting” of sorts. My heart raced even at hearing the invitation, and the days leading up felt like their own individual eons until I was practically unraveling with nerves and questions about this mystery they were about to lay out. 

Because, after all, was it entirely a mystery? I asked myself when I thought about Danny’s gentle warning from a few months prior–things were happening. Big things. Big changes.

So when Josh and I were officially told that the boys had landed themselves new management and a record deal and were moving to Nashville in May, the two of us silently decided the course of our future was going to change along with theirs. Because, also after all, we were all family and we couldn’t imagine our lives being torn apart like that. It was just that simple. 

Maybe some would call our dynamic codependent, and maybe it wouldn’t be entirely wrong, but I didn’t care. Neither did Josh, who had far more of an incentive to trail along–these were his actual brothers, the guys who had been in his life for forever, and though no one asked anything explicit, it was apparent that his clan wanted him to join them on the journey. I wanted the same thing–I had learned over the years, and especially this past one, that I truly wanted to be with Josh wherever he went, and I wanted us to all be a family no matter what. And, to me, part of being a family meant being together.

Our drive back home was quiet, but not tense–just contemplative. Even with our shared silence, I felt that I could hear the gears moving in Josh’s mind while my own did the same, an endless stream of questions and fears and wishes. And when we were indeed back home, our apartment felt suddenly so stifling to me, and Josh and I moved quickly to begin setting things in motion, beginning with foregoing our entire honeymoon.

“We’ll take another trip sometime,” he assured me as I opened my laptop and went to cancel our flights to Vegas. “After we’re settled in Nashville.”

“There’s no rush,” I said, giving him my own reassuring smile.  It really didn’t bother me. As enticing as Vegas and the desert was, Tennessee had an even more prolific call to it, like it was beckoning us forward. I’d looked at so many pictures of different cities in the state, of course I knew how big the music scene was in Nashville, and I’d never been opposed to visiting–I just never imagined it in this context no matter how many signs had been there leading the way. I was happy–truly. No honeymoon was worth losing the people we loved the most. “Besides, the move is kind of the trip. It’s a whole new adventure.”

“We’ve never even been there before,” Josh said, settling back next to me on the couch, tipping his head up in thought. “Does that make you nervous? It actually makes me a little nervous.”

“Yeah. But we’ll love it. The boys assured us of that.” 

“It’s a big change. It’s a big city.”

“Maybe we need a big change.” After successfully canceling our flights, I shut the laptop and pivoted to face Josh. “I’ve been so afraid of any changes, Josh, and you’ve always been so patient with me. Getting married felt like a huge change but it was the best decision ever and what did it really change? I mean, there’s been good changes. Small ones. Nothing bad.” I laid down on my back, putting my head in his lap. “I’m going to believe that it’s totally possible this move, this big change, will have nothing bad attached to it.”

“That’s a profoundly new and brave outlook to have on it, darling,” Josh said, running his fingers through my hair. “One thing I am worried about is telling the other members of our family. What will your sister say? My parents? Your parents? Our friends?”

I sighed. “I know. That’s the hardest part. The only bad part I can see right now.” 

“Also…” Josh began, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger. “Where are we going to live? Jake, Sam and Danny have their situation figured out. We do not.”

“We can start looking tonight. We can find an apartment–”

“We should get a house,” Josh said, those words profound.

I paused, smirking a bit, before I said, “In this economy? In a city that big? I’m not sure we’re that lucky.”

“We could do it! Both of our parents agreed to let us use their contributions to the honeymoon for a house if that’s what we wanted instead. And now we know that’s what we want.”

“Yeah. Maybe…” I trailed off, the daunting numbers of houses for sale, even more daunting in such a large city, already permeating my mind. Nevertheless, I concluded, wanting to stay on the road of positivity and optimism, “We’ll look at those too. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a cheap gem we can bid on.” 

Josh hummed. “It’ll be strange to do that without actually being inside the house first.”

“Well, wouldn’t it have been the same thing with Savannah?”

“Not necessarily. I had imagined we would have traveled back to look for a place to live there.” 

“You had it all planned out. Secretly,” I said, reaching up to touch his face. “Now we have to scramble a bit. But you’re good at that. You’re the spontaneous, adventurous one.”

Josh smiled proudly. “That I am. Thank you for the reminder.” He grabbed my hand and held it to his cheek. “And I always need my adventure partner.”

—

As I gathered with my friends and family to share the news, I was met with a reasonable amount of initial excitement, questioning trepidation, then slight resistance before people warmed up to the idea. The plan, actually, because no matter what anyone said, it was happening. Josh and I had begun packing up the apartment and getting the other logistics ready–all of it was daunting, even suffocating at times, but just being able to share what was going on with one person after the other felt like a weight off my chest each time.

Well, I told my parents together and, unsurprisingly, they gave me the most anxiety. So many questions–many that I’d already thought of myself, but some that felt unnecessary. But I knew it was because they cared, and they worried, and neither of their children had ever made a big move like this before. 

After a discussion that felt like it went on forever, the three of us sitting on the patio in the backyard I’d grown up in, my parents eventually softened, and their approval and slow-growing excitement was something I hadn’t realized I’d even needed so badly.

Bev was tough–she had half as many questions as my parents but she scrutinized each of my answers with far more intensity. I could tell that her hardened facial expression while we talked, sitting in her apartment that I knew I would miss so much, was a mask over a deep sadness and grief that I felt in my own heart too. 

When her questions and my answers stopped and there was a long minute of silence hanging around us, she sighed and the mask dropped, and I saw tears well in her eyes, something that I’d maybe seen two or three times during the entire course of our friendship. I cried too, wishing that the exciting parts of life like this didn’t involve what felt like cutting a limb off. 

I’d already been given the intel from Jake about his prior discussion with Jane about the move, so I could go to her prepared–I didn’t feel prepared enough though. I didn’t know how to approach it with her even though Jake had told me he and Jane weren’t splitting up and everything was fine, or as fine as it could be. Emotions were strange and jilted for everyone in our circle and I didn’t doubt Jane’s might be far more inflamed by comparison, with her friend AND boyfriend both moving so far away. 

But she was as tender and kind as ever when she came over. We sipped on cheap wine and shared a huge takeout box of french fries on the balcony while the bright blue sky of the spring evening melted into mesmerizing waves of raspberry and lavender. Jane’s affirmations and empathy were as sweet as the sky in my eyes, and I had to blink away more tears while I tried to hide my quivering lips behind the wine glass. But she knew, she saw, she felt it all too, and we wept quietly together. And though I knew she wouldn’t say it, I told her that I knew she’d end up down there with Jake–and all of us–if wanted to in the future. It was only a matter of time. 

That’s all any of it was–time. And time was dwindling, each grain in an invisible but still looming, gigantic hourglass slipping away so quickly as Josh and I went through the motions of checking in with our people, working, packing, making logistical moves and trying not to worry too much. 

What I was most worried about was my relationship with my sister. It hadn’t been long since it had felt repaired and whole again–we were close. We were back to being each other’s rocks no matter what other rocks were also there to keep us stable and not drift away. But now I was going to be leaving, and I was terrified she’d resent me for that. 

“What? I could never,” Kirsti said when I’d expressed that very same concern. Her face was tight with insulted shock, horrified that her own sister could ever use the word “resentment” in reference to our relationship. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Because even though I know that, I was still worried,” I told her. We were in her backyard, as I’d been insisting on spending as much time outside as possible–I wasn’t sure when I’d next get to experience this much of the serene Michigan springs I’d come to love so deeply. Each drift of the afternoon breeze wafted over the scent of newly blooming peonies and unearthed daffodils in its own soft, clean scent. I’d miss everything our hometown had to offer–the subdued natural beauty surrounding us, the fresh air of spring just when the warmer days finally break through the cold, the quaint village and the slow, easy way of living that the entire town shared, the strong sense of community. All of it. But I’d miss my people the very most. 

Kirsti sighed as she leaned back in her deck chair, face turned up toward the cloud-shielded sun. “It was bound to happen eventually. Josh already had the itch to leave, right? Then his own brothers actually decide to take off...” She turned to look at me. “Yeah. It’s understandable. Those boys are all as thick as thieves. You know that better than anyone. Like, they’re not going to go anywhere without the others.”

“Not anywhere that far, no,” I agreed. Detroit was one thing–Nashville was definitely another. “I didn’t envision this happening though. Not completely. I think my brain tried to block it out all the time even though, yeah, it was always a very real possibility. Very likely, actually.”

A robin flitted across the grass, stealing my attention, and I watched it land on the edge of Kirsti’s side garden, where dark dirt sprouting flowers and greenery pressed against the worn out fence. Two squirrels chased each other down a tree, shaking the tender leaves that had recently begun unfurling and bringing shiny green life to the world of us and to all the animals, then a blue jay swooped down from a different tree, sending the robin away.

“You should get a bird bath,” I remarked.

“Maybe I will. But what about you?” Kirsti asked, sitting forward and twisting to face me again. “You said you hadn’t found a place yet, so where are you guys going to put your bird bath?”

“We’re gonna be staying with the boys until we find a place of our own. I’m not sure we’ll have a bird bath anytime soon.” I look into the yard once again, my eyes following a chipmunk that was scampering across the top of the fence. “Moving in and of itself is so expensive, it’s unlikely we’ll be able to get a house. But that’s okay. We’re just excited to be going and we know we’ll get settled eventually.”

Another silent moment passed, only intercepted by the birds chirping and the next door neighbor starting up their car in their driveway, then my sister said, “Don’t take this the wrong way but…it’s interesting that you’re not just like, freaking out about this.” She laughed a little. “You guys have come a long way together.”

I smiled, gazing up at the sky. “You know, we really have.”

—

For what seemed like the first time ever, Josh had more to figure out than I did. I didn’t have to find a new job, but he did, and watching the evolution of emotions in him when he prepared and subsequently sent in his resignation was difficult. At first, the excitement of what was to come overshadowed the anxiety and trepidation–but soon enough, I could see those feelings written on his face, echoed in his body that spent days unusually tense and withdrawn. 

“It’s like starting over in more ways than my mind could comprehend before,” he explained during one of our very last evenings at home. “And you know I already thought about leaving this job before, but I planned to just hop into another teaching job. Now I’m not sure what I’m going to do. There hasn’t been enough time to plan. But more than that, I haven’t had enough mental space to figure out what I even want to plan.” 

We were packing, as had become the usual post-work activity, this time focusing our efforts in the kitchen. There were also a lot of boxes and bags for donation scattered throughout the apartment too, full of things that didn’t hold enough sentimental value or usefulness to justify bringing on the long drive to our new city. 

I prowled through our spice and baking supply cabinet, pausing with an ancient canister of bay leaves in my hand. “I know, baby. It’s hard. You really liked teaching here. It was a good gig.” 

Josh sighed, looking crestfallen. Then he plucked a shot glass from a prior trip to Toronto and held it up, his face brightening: “Remember this?”

“Sure do,” I said, taking it from him as he handed it over to be packed up. “That was a good time. I guess I’ll miss being close to Canada.”

A sigh. “There are a lot of things I’ll miss. More than I realized before.”

The missing didn’t stop us. We hit the road, with more help from our parents, and were in Nashville in just under ten hours. Exhausted and sore, we stepped out into this new place, this new world, and blinked rapidly to move the dryness of our eyes away and to take in the unfamiliar sights. 

The air felt different–warmer, more humid. It smelled different too, not as clear and not as green, but we were surrounded by trees and greenery nonetheless, parked outside the boy’s new house in a southern neighborhood that was so foreign that, when I came to my full senses, I felt like I’d been hit with whiplash. 

Hauling his backpack over his shoulder, Josh said to me, “We’re not in Michigan anymore.”

No, we really weren’t.

I stayed, compelled to be frozen amongst the new trees and in the foreign air, casting my focus from one thing to another. From the small round window in the attic of the house to the second floor, briefly wondering what the bedrooms looked like until a breeze wafted over me and I smelled the faint sweetness of lilies. I spotted them–bright orange daylilies juxtaposed with smaller, dripping vines of pink bleeding hearts–and shook my head slightly, trying to compute everything that had happened within the past 24 hours and where the next 24 would take us. 

I looked at the front of the house, my brow furrowing a little at the unfamiliarity of it juxtaposed with the dire need to “go home” after such a long journey. Home would be here for a while, in this house with the hunter green door and gray siding–it was no longer the weathered white four-story building with the white door to our little apartment and the balcony hanging over our small town, jutting into the sky. Looking up, I saw no balcony, only that same little round window and the four squares below, the curtains drawn, the creeping darkness of the evening penetrating the glass. 

A light turned on in one of the rooms below and I could see Josh moving through what looked like the living room. My heart skipped as I watched, still frozen in that one spot, frozen despite the incessant demand of time dwindling and shoving me forward–he pulled his water bottle out of his backpack and took a long drink. His profile caught my gaze–the smoothness of his skin, all of him glowing in that yellow light, the straight arrow of his nose, his brows tightening as he swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbing, too. 

My gaze dropped down to my own hands. They felt dry from repeat use of hand sanitizer and thruway rest stop soap, my nails bitten and shredded in such an unattractive way. I’d been anxious the entire drive, an unwavering bundle of prickly nerves in the passenger seat, so much more anxious than during any flight I’d ever been on. It had felt like a betrayal from my entire physical body, even more so when not even Josh’s reassuring hand on my leg or on my wrist made the edginess disappear. 

When I looked up, Josh was in front of me, shadowed from the porch lights. He placed his hands on my wrists again, drifting them down to tangle our fingers together, his eyes soft and his lips pursed a little as he asked, “Are you alright, mama?”

I hadn’t felt it during our drive but I felt it then–the complete relief that came with Josh’s touch. 

I held our hands properly, pulling him closer, my thumbs brushing over his knuckles. He smiled and instead of jumping with anxiety, my heart pitter-pattered in my chest with overwhelming love. So overwhelming I felt like I was going to choke on it, like whatever I was going to say would come out strangled and unintelligible. 

“Now I am,” I said, breaking away from his sparkling eyes to look up at the sky. It didn’t sparkle the same at home–there was too much light from the city and the brilliant, deep midnight blue that would be overhead at home was a dull wash. It was like the sky was beckoning for me to find the stars, to look harder, search longer, and finally, as I’d always wanted to, pluck one straight from between the whispered clouds and place it in Josh’s palm. 

Then I saw the moon, hidden behind those tendrils of clouds until another breeze brushed them away. Her brilliance remained the same–huge and cold, safe and comforting, her celestial presence gave me a familiar sense of belonging. I might not belong in this city–yet. I might not have a home that was just Josh’s and mine–yet. But I belonged in his arms, he belonged in mine, and we belonged to the entire universe no matter where we ended up. Our souls would always be up there, floating among the silver stars and whirling around the moon.

“Yeah,” I said, looking back at Josh, smiling; he smiled back and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing our torsos together. I reached one hand up and brushed my fingers over his curls, down over the shell of his ears, landing to rest on his cheek. “I’m good. How are you, Starshine?”

“I’m brilliant,” Josh said, smiling bigger, white teeth gleaming. “Now that we’re finally here.”

He pressed a soft, sweet kiss to my lips, letting his mouth linger on mine for a few seconds, and I sighed. When he pulled back, his eyes turned upward too, tilting his head back to look at the sky–but this time, I didn’t search for missing stars or stare at the moon. I just stared at him. 

---

Tagging:

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[maybebecomingms]

dry-ish january

January 19, 2024

I have a very much on-again, off-again relationship with alcohol. (TW if this is a tough subject for you.)

I grew up with alcoholic parents, developed a fondness for beer before I ever went to school, and sometimes partook with them before I graduated high school. My best friend in college was 4.5 years my senior, and I spent much of the summer following my freshman year at her house in a small mining town where there's not much else to do but drink. She didn't have a car, so I'd wait for her outside while she got the goods I wasn't yet old enough to buy myself.

We threw a joint graduation party 3 years later and didn't drink or provide alcohol. Our mental health wasn't great and we knew it wouldn't help. So we just... didn't, and hadn't been.

I met the man I would later marry (and divorce) the following year, and my habits slowly changed again. He drank regularly, so I started to as well. I could never drink as much as he did without feeling like absolute garbage, so I made it a point to have at least 3 sober days each week. If I could manage to have just one or two on the other days, it might not be so bad.

But it was never just one or two. It was usually four or more. As I became increasingly more uncomfortable with the reality of my life and the impossible expectations placed on me, taking three days off each week became more and more of a challenge. Meanwhile, I got involved in mental health care and routinely lied to my providers about how much I was consuming.

I'm a sucker for any sort of temporary challenge, and would give it up for periods of time. I did at least a couple sober Lent seasons. And I did Dry January sometimes, too. It wasn't easy - my ex would sometimes act offended when I declined to drink alcohol on random days throughout the week. When I took a break for weeks on end, you'd think I was purposefully harming him.

I've always been acutely aware of the risks of excessive drinking. I've seen folks die from alcohol-induced dementia, and liver failure. It's not pretty. My parents and all their friends were party animals, and many of their friends have died from substance use. Besides alcoholism, I have family history of heart disease and diabetes. My dad died of heart failure at only 58 (10 years ago next month), and I know his drinking played a role in his death.

Cutting way back following my divorce wasn't as easy as I had initially thought it would be. I couldn't stand my living situation with my old roommates, and up until only a couple of months ago, I was working a job where I was treated unbelievably badly every single day. While I wasn't routinely downing 12+ drinks a week like before, I still routinely felt a "need" to cope by drinking.

This time, I decided to do Dry January a little differently. I decided I will not drink *at home* over the course of this month, or while alone. If I was out with friends and it felt okay, maybe I'd have a little. But the ONLY acceptable reason was to enjoy something that tastes good while socializing - it could not be to cope with any sort of bad feelings.

To my surprise, it's WORKED! And it's worked so well. In years past, I would do it, but it felt like it took an incredible amount of control and self-restraint. Like I was white-knuckling it the whole time.

It hasn't been like that at all. I honestly haven't thought about it much - besides the ways I have been feeling better. I haven't missed it. It's felt like the opposite of a need to control. More like a release.

I don't think I'll ever be someone who would be able to tell you I haven't had a drink in years. I don't think I even want that for myself. I like to share a cider with a friend, and I'll probably always want the option. But now it's finally just that - an option that I can enjoy on occasion. Or not!

[i-spaced-sorry]

#42

If We Were Vampires by Jason Isbell and 400 Units

This song is probably supposed to be about cancer, but the first time I heard it last February, I thought of Jay and Hailey immediately.

So I wrote this with the lyrics (below the cut), hope it turned out all right.

It's not the long, flowing dress that you're in Or the light coming off of your skin

The day was not the picture-esc dream little girls fantasize about, but then again, nothing in her life was. She was standing in the courtroom with the love of her life dressed in her best ‘work attire’ while he wore a button up and his signature blue jeans. It wasn’t the picture-esc dream every little girl dreams about but it was perfect to her.

The fragile heart you protected for so long Or the mercy in your sense of right and wrong

She can remember when she first met him. She was a strong willed detective that didn’t believe love existed in the way Hollywood made them out to be. He was the first guy to ignite something in her. From the first case they worked together, she felt like she could follow him blind.

It's not your hands searching slow in the dark Or your nails leaving love's watermark

That night was reserved for passion and romance. Two things 17yr old her didn't think was possible to co-exist together. He made her feel so good in more ways than one that night and she wished they didn’t have to work the next day.

It's not the way you talk me off the roof Your questions like directions to the truth

Being married to her best friend and love of her life is great until secrecy begins, the guy she would follow blind is doing questionable actions at work, and his side of the bed is beginning to feel cold with the lack of his presence. But he isn’t too far gone to forget to let her know that he still loves her.

It's knowing that this can't go on forever Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone

He too soon wakes up and becomes self aware with what he is turning into, what he is becoming. He hates it and decides to find direction in a new career. He knows this hurts her, but knows in the long run it will help.

Maybe we'll get forty years together But one day I'll be gone Or one day you'll be gone She throws herself into her work, thinking that the 8 months will go by faster that way. Soon she finds herself not going home and barely getting any sleep. She imagines it would be easier that way, but all she sees at work is his empty chair across from her desk. Waiting for him to come home.

If we were vampires and death was a joke We'd go out on the sidewalk and smoke

She begins to think about the what if’s of the situation. What if they had a different career. What if they met in high school? Would he even be friends with her if they met in high school? She was a loner kid, who used school to escape her toxic abusive household and he probably used sports for the same thing, if any of the conversations about his dad had anything to go off of.

And laugh at all the lovers and their plans I wouldn't feel the need to hold your hand

She finds herself feeling the parallels of their relationship in everything she does. Like when she grabbed the coffee from the center console with her non-dominant hand. She is reminded of the time he stole her coffee and drank it. She just wishes she could feel the parallel from the night he proposed, when she sat on the couch and he came walking in the door and she looked up.

Maybe time running out is a gift I'll work hard 'til the end of my shift

Overtime, working the Sean case, and working with the other officers in the unit kept her busy which she was grateful for. She felt that if she threw herself into her work, maybe she’ll also find herself just like he is. So when he returns they can be more in sync.

And give you every second I can find And hope it isn't me who's left behind

When the team finally wraps up a new case they were working on, she finally decides to go home, if nothing else to just fall into bed. But when she walks through the door, she feels like she is hallucinating. Dancing while cooking in the kitchen, with his back towards her is her guy. He came back for her. He didn’t lose her, while trying to find himself and the wait was worth it.

[naomixhill]

10 October 2014

Written 8 years ago...

It’s my birthday, but it never feels like my birthday anymore.

There is something intrinsically saddening about driving alone down High Street in the dead of night. I thought this to myself as I pulled into Monte Carlo while trying to avoid the waves of people running around in the city lights; some would go to bars and then onto a stranger’s bed, citing their sin on their inhibitions; others would go out to a night of fine dining, go home to read a book, maybe catch up on the news. I, however, was on a mission. C and I had just gotten off the phone, and I was to bring over a glass of red wine and bold cigars. 

When I walked into the cigar shop, I was greeted by two foreign men, one Syrian by birth and the other Middle Eastern. The Middle Easterner quickly came to my aid as I began peering through the selection. “It’s not everyday we see someone like you in here, miss. Is there something I can help you with?” He asked with a boyish, excited tone. I lowered my voice, and asked for Henry Clays. Not surprisingly, they ran out earlier in the day. My luck has always been blessedly good. 

I prowled around the aisles, until the Middle Easterner motioned for me to follow him to the back. Once there, he handpicked two cigars (both $36 each), and handed them to me. “I think you will like these,” he smiled. I took them, asked him to find me a good corresponding wine, and met him at the cash register. He threw in another cigar for free after looking at my ID, which told him today was my birthday. 

After retrieving the goods, I quickly ran out to my car, trying to avoid the terrible rain, and drove to C’s. He had parked in such a way that it allowed my car, and my car only, to fit in a parallel spot directly outside of his house. As I pulled up, he was dutifully sitting outside on the porch smoking  a cigarette. He looked sad. He has looked sad for a while now. 

C and I made small talk, and then called out his roommate to join us. The three of us smoked cigars; I drank wine and the two boys drank dark, dry beer. It became increasingly evident that C had been drinking all day, the more we all talked. The two of them were engaged in discussion regarding the upcoming case competition at Michigan, but every once in a while there were casual slip-ups, and inappropriate questions and comments made in my direction: clear indicators that they weren’t just drunk, but really drunk.

By 1 a.m., C and I were grinding up against one another in his bed. “It’s your birthday, so you know I’m going to need to give you the best sex of your life, lady,” he told me. I was on top, then he was on top, then we were going at it from the side and every position in between; but he was sloppily drunk, and I was still too sober and hurt from another disappointing celebration. 

Still later in the evening, C’s second roommate arrived home with a good looking friend. He was a blonde, very tall, computer science major from Purdue University. “Only in town for the weekend, just trying to ease my mind before our second round of midterms,” he told me. It wasn’t too long after soft introductions that C’s roommate asked if I would like to participate in a threesome with some Pi Phi sorority girl. “Come on, have  a little fun, birthday girl,” was a reoccurring statement throughout the evening. 

Eventually, the second roommate convinced C - who was nearly falling asleep - and myself to go to the bars with him and his friend. So at a very late 2 a.m., there we were. I was getting drunker, C was blacked out, and the other two were hitting on beautiful women all around. At the top of the staircase of Ethyl, I saw M from the investment club. I tugged on C’s cuff, and screamed for him to text M to meet us. He obliged, and within just a few minutes, M came down to visit.

C told M to keep an eye on me, and that he would be back in no time at all. A half hour may have gone by before he returned, but the entire time M and i spent in conversation. He told me more about Jordan, about weapons trading, about all of the things he did that I so desired to know about. He was in the process of plugging my number into his phone as C arrived, and with that, C sharply said, “M, what the fuck are you doing, man?” which caused M to very sharply put away his phone in shame. M has always been subservient to C, and may love him more than anyone in the world. Nonetheless, my attraction toward M is strong, borderline inappropriate, and it was the happiest portion of my night. 

C at this point was no longer himself. “Guys, let’s go smoke a fucking cigarette, I need some air,” he told us. So we all went out to the balcony of Ethyl and smoked. It was there that C told us the news. It suddenly made sense why his sadness had been so pervasive, why his smoking had gotten so heavy and his words had become sharper than usual. 

"My mother has stage three cancer. She didn’t tell any of us that it came back. She is going to die in two month’s time at the best, the doctor thinks sooner." 

Drunk and confused, I began to cry for him, and ask, “why didn’t you tell me this? I would have been there for you.” M, meanwhile, tried to comfort C, telling him, “Look man, she is going to fight this out. They told my father he was due to die weeks ago, but he’s still kicking it, he is still fighting. Don’t doubt her, C. She will hang in there for you.” 

C raised his voice, and didn’t hear a word of M. “I even bought my parents a fucking house to retire in, out in North Carolina. She is going to fucking die before it’s even ready. She’s going to fucking die.” 

I started to feel faint at this, and began wobbling. An incredibly strong urge to throw up became apparent, and C could see the familiar look all over my face. “Look K,” he said, “I’m going to call you a taxi. I see some of my friends at the back of the bar anyway. I’ll be home soon, okay?” He pointed at M to keep an eye on me, again. He did. 

When C stormed off, M grabbed my face and pulled it closely to his own. “K, you are so sad.” I shook my head and said it was nothing compared to what C must be feeling, but he contradicted me. “No K, it’s something else. You are always a sad girl, and I don’t think anyone really notices. But just know you are incredibly sexy, obviously intelligent, and you don’t need to take shit from anyone, not even C.” He smiled and pressed his nose up against my cheek. My hormones went completely out of control, and I almost considered kissing him. Thank God, senses prevailed. 

The taxi came within minutes.  It brought me back to C’s house, and with his keys, I unlocked the door. I undressed myself and waited in his bed. I tried to sober up from everything that had just happened, but simply couldn’t. I cried until I could no longer produce tears. And then I waited. And waited. But C never showed. 

Perhaps at 4 a.m. I awoke to C coming home from the bars. He sat down at his computer and began working on his stock pitch for the case competition. Even if drunk, it was all he could think about; anything to clear his mind from the painful realities of the present. I tiptoed up behind him, and hugged him from behind. I came around to his chair, still undressed from earlier, and straddled him. I tried to kiss him, but was softly rejected. So I then kissed his cheek, his forehead, and down to his shirt buttons. I had decided now was the time to tell him I loved him, that I would be there for him through all of this, that we could take off time from school to go see his mother or do whatever it was he needed to do. But rather, as my knees began to inch toward the floor, and my mouth began to progress towards, he stopped me. He pushed me up, and told me to go to sleep. 

I protested, and he told me more firmly. “Go to fucking sleep, K, it’s late and I don’t want to do this right now.” I began to straddle him once again, but he knocked me off. “Just go to bed.” 

I slid onto the floor from the force of his push, and trying to get up, I stumbled down the stairs. He didn’t turn around. At the bottom of the staircase, I assessed my bleeding knee cap and banged up arms. C came to the edge of the top of the staircase realizing what happened and apologized, saying “I”m sorry this is all my fault, I didn’t mean to-“ 

But I was already gone before I could hear a full response.

I jumped into my Ford Focus, still too drunk to drive, far too sad, and drove home. Happy 21st birthday to me.

[keefwho]

August 25 - 2024 Sunday

10:40am

I haven't been journaling mostly because I was getting to sleep late every night and also my power went out the day before yesterday overnight which was terrible.

Friday was looking good for most of the day, I remember feeling good. I especially looked forward to all the plans I had been making because I finally feel like I can do things I want to do if I start committing to when I plan them instead of rescheduling until I'm in the perfect mood. But the power went out at 4pm while I was drawing. It looked pretty bad but my hope was that it would be back in about 6-8 hours like the usual average but it took 20. That night was fine, DS and I called on my phone and she screenshared memes while I drank. It was really fun. I didn't expect to talk about some of the stuff that came up while also stressed about the power loss but I was very open to it, I guess I was just in the right mood. It was good that we did. I always like to think I'm good to talk about anything at just about any time and I mean that. If it's needed, it's needed. I would expect the same thing from my friends.

Saturday was rough, I woke up from my rough sleep and became extremely stressed about the situation. It didn't help that I was also extremely hungry and starting to feel dirty from not showering. My toilet was also disgusting since I couldn't flush it. I remember laying on the floor and listening to Bob Ross while waiting for anyone to respond to my DMs and that got me to relax. I asked dad if he could take me to the store where I got some much needed snacks and a big container of water to flush my toilet with. So things were looking up. Something that really got to me was my LED strip going out. The battery it's hooked up to did not accurately calculate how much energy it still had, not even close. Good to know I can't rely on that I guess. BR and JG kept me company in the morning a little and that was nice, even if I couldn't use my mic because of the poor connection. I think the biggest thing I needed was company, but that also says something about my state of being. I think I should be able to be okay for 20 hours alone, even if it's dark and I lack basic amenities. Looking back I wonder why I wasn't able to focus on playing things on my switch or reading one of my books. Eventually I had accepted my fate and laid down, more or less banking on the power coming back before I decided to get up. And it did, at about 1pm. I can not describe the intense relief that happens when it comes back, every time.

The first thing I did was clean up and get myself showered. I was so happy to finally get my dishes clean and my hands washed. The shower was heavenly. For lunch I threw together a chicken stew but it wasn't great. I think I've learned I need the tyson grilled chicken chunks to make it real good, thats my best option right now but I used canned chicken instead. I had that and a chocolate twinkie with a late cup of coffee while I prepared everything for book club. I had to rush it but I got it done just in time. We had a good turnout but UP didn't show despite showing a lot of interest and promising to be there. I guessed correctly that she must have slept through it. When I asked her, she said she was really excited and was reading the book out loud to some people, kids maybe? I thought that sounded sweet. She also asked if she could bring other people along and I do want new recruits so that was promising.

After the book club, TK, WX and I hung out until real late. We went to that pink, Barbie-esque world I love and had some interesting conversation. GOOD conversation because we all shush and let each other talk and really listen. It was so refreshing given the last week's poor success conversing with people. I had one big takeaway from our discussion: that the only thing you need to do to be worthy of love is to be yourself. It sounds corny but here is my logic. I'm someone who has struggled to be my own person my entire life. This is largely due to pressure to conform from a young age, especially from my parents. I'm someone who has mistook poor dynamics for true connection, mostly becoming attached to others and incorporating into their identity. But the purest form of connection happens between 2 individuals that recognize each other as such. It takes a lot more and means a lot more when someone doesn't have to take interest in you or be there for you but they do it anyways. They can go off and have their own adventures but they always come back to you. That requires both parties to be their own people, to be themselves. I'm not sure real love can happen between two people without that. So instead of focusing on things like financial status or even something important like emotional maturity, I want to focus on being who I am. The good thing is that I assume most of us want to be better people inherently so stuff like maturity will still come with my self discovery. I dont think I worded any of this as well as I meant to but it's more for me to get out and process anyways.

Saturday night I felt connected to the people I was talking to and I contribute that to my recent focus on what is really happening in my life in this moment and viewing myself as an independent person doing MY own thing. Right now I'm trying to change my relationship with others. Usually I am afraid of change and I still am, but I'm putting the power in my own hands. If things have to change then at least I have the reigns. I really am tired of being guided around by others or by circumstances. In regard to others, I think I'm learning to enforce real boundaries.

10:55pm

6.5/10

This morning I took the time to shave my whole body and super moisturize, that felt good. I made a delicious combo of spam, green beans, and spicy ramen. The new frozen green beans I got are really good. Then my dad taught me how to use a chainsaw briefly. It was cool, a little scary and harder than I thought. Then I made and sipped my coffee while I got on VRchat with TK. I didn't have any plans or desires and neither did she so we decided to experience whatever happened in public worlds. We found ourselves in some sort of anime murder high school RP thing they we incorporated into and actually played. She was the one actually doing it and I was her emotional support horse. There weren't enough slots at first for me to participate and I had to keep stepping away to prep lunch. We were there for awhile and DV joined too. He told me all about his current racing phase. After he left, we went to a hide and seek world which was a cool little experience. Then I got off to eat my lunch and chill with DS. We watched Twilight Breaking Dawn part 2 and I liked it. I think the only one I hated was BD Part 1. We also watched some Otakon content while she made her birthday party announcement pic which I posted in my announcements channel. In bed we did our usual puzzles and then I joined BR and friends for an hour of Minecraft but I was kinda bored.