#we're all waking up and choosing violence today
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
OFMDs, while I find your pathetic clownery to be even more intolerable than the rank vitriol of my Stucky fandom nemeses, I have to put my personal aggravation aside to offer you, along with my MSR besties, my most sincere congratulations on achieving what is objectively the funniest possible outcome for this round. You eliminated THE top two unquestioned juggernaut patron ships of this entire cursed website in their first matchups, and I honestly couldn't have asked for a better outcome. I cannot stand those fucking pirates but god bless. Love and peace on planet Tumblr ✌️
AO3 Top Relationships Bracket- Round 2 Side 1
This poll is a celebration of fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.
#I am a marvel bitch forever and I actually love Stucky#but holy shit#as a Tony fan there is no more hostile place on the internet than the stucky fandom#and that can't even touch what the poor Sharon fans endured#love the ship and the skill of the ficcers and fanartists is truly unparalleled#but the fandom is fucking PSYCHO#jesus christ those people are hateful#I would say I hope some stuckies have learned their lesson about their behavior from this clownshow#but it's been 7 years since CW and they still haven't cleaned up their act so I think we all know they haven't learned anything#anyway that's the irradiated wasteland that OFMD fandom is up against so that should tell you how annoying I find THEM#/smiling affectionately/ I hate all of you so much#bite each other's dicks off and so on and so forth#I don't remember if the unlisted tag trick still works but I'm gonna go ahead and tag this for my own blog organization anyway#and if this post shows up in search then it's in god's hands#we're all waking up and choosing violence today#AO3 Ships Poll#AO3topshipsbracket#fandom#fandom culture#Marvel#MCU#Steve Rogers#Bucky Barnes#Stucky#Steve/Bucky#Our Flag Means Death#Blackbonnet#Blackbeard/Stede#Destiel#Mulder/Scully
17K notes
·
View notes
Note
hiii could I request a tiny fluff/crack fic of just Macaque x Waking x gn!reader going to couple therapy (Sandy could be the therapist if you want cause it's silly) cause they have a bickering problem (reader has a hot temperament too)
and basically the three of them try to work it out even if they keep throwing snarky comments and everything
Pairing: Wukong x Macaque x gn!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: Mixing monkeys and therapy isn't a good idea. Warnings/Tags: Silly banter, Sandy trying his best, Mo cameo, canon typical violence, therapy, Sandy is NOT licensed, and crack. Word Count: 600+ words
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Sandy's eyes flicked between all three of his 'clients' and sipped his tea. Clearing his throat caught the attention of two of the monkeys sitting beside each other.
"So, uhhh, does anyone want to start us off with a 'I feel' statement?" Sandy smiled.
"I feel like this is a waste of time."
"I feel like someone should have thought about that before being the reason we're here in the first place."
"I feel like I want to strangle someone."
"...great…great start everyone!" Sandy weakly applauded.
"Look, Sandy, as much as we appreciate this, I don't think we-"
"-Nonsense! If MK entrusted me to help you three through your issues, then I am more than happy to help!" Sandy's eyes shimmered. "I wouldn't wanna let my little buddy down!"
"...right," Wukong deflated as he realized there wasn't any way of getting out of this without feeling guilty. Sandy nodded and turned to you, who was sitting with their arms crossed over their chest and their eyes studying the decorations on the walls of his ship.
"How about you tell me what brings you all here with me today?" Sandy called out your name as he reached for his cup of tea again. Macaque, who sat in the middle of both of his partners, tensed as he tapped his sharp nails along his arm. Wukong, much to his nonchalant attitude, looked carefree but he was nibbling on his bottom lip as his brow furrowed proved otherwise.
"Where to fucking start," You glanced at the blue gentle giant, who's smile did nothing to ease the flames of anger that began to rise. In fact, you rose from your seat and began pacing around the room. "Let me begin, those two always arguing like an old married couple for every single decision we have to make as a throuple-"
"Hey! We don't bicker every time."
"-and do you know how infuriating it is to argue over what we should eat every.single.night?" You sent a mean look at Wukong who stuck his tongue out at you.
"I think that's a bit of a stretch." Macaque met your dirty look with his own shit-eating grin/scowl.
"Don't get me started on how long it takes for us to fuc-"
"-OOOOKAY!" Sandy jumped up from his seat and held a hand to stop you from continuing. "I think I have an idea on what we should do to help you guys!"
"Oh really?" You sat back down, arms crossed, and one leg over the other. Your glare didn't relax until you felt something soft cuddle into your bicep. You peered out of the corner of your eye to see Mo rubbing his cheek against your arm. Despite your contorted face, you grabbed the kitty cat and placed him on your lap to pet.
"Yep! It's simple really," Sandy pulled out a chart from behind the couch. "You guys can take alternating turns on who chooses what for that day!"
Sandy pointed to a purple square on a random Tuesday. "Here, Macaque gets to choose what you guys eat for dinner, where you'll go on dates, and all of that good stuff!"
Sandy pointed to a (f/c) square, "And then you'll choose, and vice versa for monkey king!"
"Why am I last?"
"Don't complain."
"I am not-"
"If you two don't shut up and listen to Sandy, I'll make you shut the fuck up."
Both monkeys winced before following your command.
"...right," Sandy continued. "If anyone has any complaints or starts a fight over something that could've been communicated properly, then they lose a day and it's given to the next person who's supposed to choose next."
"Alright, sounds good," You rubbed under Mo's chin and felt yourself relax as the cat purred. "We'll try that, thank you, Sandy."
"Yeah, thanks!"
"Hm."
"Great! I'll see you guys next week then! Keep me updated, you silly gooses!" Sandy took Mo from you before ushering you all out of his boat. He closed the door and slid onto the floor while sighing.
"They're gonna fight again, aren't they?"
Mo shrugged.
🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight !!
#lmk sun wukong#lmk macaque#lmk sandy#sun wukong x reader x macaque#sun wukong x reader#macaque x reader#lmk six eared macaque#lmk x reader#chaotic#crack fic#anon ask#anon request#thanks anon!
81 notes
·
View notes
Note
I really don't like how the description of the promo image of the full Dark Beginnings has to specify that they're reaching for one another "like long lost siblings".
What is the difference between reaching for one another platonically and romantically? What makes that drawing different from the nearly identical scene of Sonic and Blaze in Rush, used as Sonaze fodder since the game came out? How is a blind person, the target audience, supposed to imagine the difference? And why does it matter?
It breaks the flow of the description and it feels... cowardly. Whoever wrote that description likely knows that a growing portion of the fanbase, especially on Twitter, thinks shipping Shadria is immoral, so they put their hands forward and shouted "THEY'RE SIBLINGS YOUR HONOR" to appease them.
Yes, I know the manuals have described their bond as sibling-like since the beginning, or at least ShTH. But was there any need to specify it here? Especially when Dark Beginnings itself just added more Shadria fuel (yeah it's very sibling-y to caress your brother's chest hair lol)?
I am not invested in Shadria but I don't understand the hate for it. It's cute. Shadow and Maria care for each other and are important to each other. There is no need to pigeon-hole their bond in a convenient label. There is no need to give an arm to the uptight fans who wrap their ship war (because let's face it, I'm sure many of those anti-Shadria people ship Sonadow lmao) in a morality question.
That piece has some real "Chihiro and Kohaku falling out the sky" energy going on tbh. Very kawaii and kakwáhyę. <3
Managed to find a few based tweets amidst the sea of Shadria antis popping champagne bottles, lol:
Based and Maekawa-pilled.
I do find it a tad sus how hard people cling to the ShTH manual as "proof" of pair's sibling relationship when the game proper never has Shadow or Maria describe it as such. The omission becomes even more salient when you recall that the Commander described Maria as being "like a sister" to him and "the only familly" he knew. Why does a Donut Steel nobody gives a shit about use those words, but not Shadow?
You mean to tell me in all 326 routes of Shadow The Hedgehog, Shadow does not take a single opportunity to say "I miss my sister Maria"? Wow, it's almost like ST left their dynamic open to interpretation for a reason. :v
Besides, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. If the ShTH manual is watertight proof that shipping Shadria is incest, then I reserve the right to say that Sonic was forced into a date with Amy under duress in Unleashed because Black Knight's manual describes him as awaiting a "stressful encounter."
---
(yeah it's very sibling-y to caress your brother's chest hair lol)?
...I don't think the antis realize that just makes it even hotter. what are you doing, step sis
Yeah, Maria has some... brow-raisingly romance anime-coded behaviors in these shorts. She's, uh... notably touchy-feely with Shadow.
Also, one last grenade to lob into the water, because fuck it, we're waking up and choosing violence today lmao:
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Between the Sea and the Sand
Themes and Warnings for this chapter: Death and violence, Mental health struggles, Poverty, Cultural and racial discrimination, Familial loss, Forced participation in violent events, The text contains mild profanity and colloquial language and words in spanish.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, and most of this text has been translated. The original text in Spanish is this: "Entre el mar y la arena".
Normal text: Spanish, Highlighted text: English
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
The awakening in Puerto Cabello brings with it the penetrating smell of the sea, but this morning, the salty scent seems more ominous. My father's absence is palpable; I miss waking up to his tickles. I used to hate it, but now I miss it more than anything. I still haven't accepted that he's gone, and my brother Kai must already be on the boat. After my father's death, my best friend Annie's dad gave him a job as a helper on his boat. He's probably there now, working hard in the early morning light. Anxiety gnaws at me because today is the Reaping. Every year it's torture watching my friends go and not come back. They're always from our port because we're poor people. The only way to live for us is to ask for tesserae, and now it's my turn, my first year in the bowl. But my thoughts aren't centered on myself. The shadow of worry looms over my older brother, Kai, 17, whose name has been entered into the Reaping more times than I can count. In our toughest times after my father's death, all we could do was ask for tesserae, but he never let me take one, to the point that now his name is in the bowl 32 times.
Annually, the prospect of my brother leaving me in this brutal place horrifies me. Since our father's departure, Kai has become the family's pillar. It's just him and me, and if he doesn't survive these games, my existence hangs by a thread. In District 4 in Puerto Cabello, our home, life is tough, and survival becomes even more precarious. We're just one of the thousands of islands in District 4. We're nothing more than a place where people who shouldn't be here live. We're Hispanic, so we should be dead like the others in South America, but a few of us survive. Now we live here, in a place where we barely eat once a day and live off fish and seaweed. The only ones who live moderately well in this port are those who have businesses, and sometimes not even that, as mostly they live in houses with all their relatives together, although that's better than living in a house with just one room, one bathroom, and a roof almost collapsing. As I got up and dressed in my best clothes with a bracelet an old friend gave me, I saw the television that only serves to watch government programs and saw an announcement about the Reaping and what time it would be. That annoyed me, seeing how the presenter laughed and the people around him shouted with joy.
It's undeniable that the Hunger Games are considered a monstrosity by everyone. Instead of using their resources productively, the Capitol chooses to watch children fight to the death for events that happened 68 years ago. It's stupidity, as well as unfair, because our people's names always come out, a Hernandez, a Gonzalez, a Mendoza, since we're the only ones who desperately need tesserae. Interestingly, all the Latinos who go die, it's like you step into the arena and you die if you're Latino. One of the few Latinas I saw who won was Noorena Colinas, who won the 60th Hunger Games. I remember her very well because she always refused to speak English inside the arena. She always spoke her language, and it was the first games where the Capitol was forced to put subtitles because she was super interesting to the Capitol's audience. First, she fled to the forest, and with her machete that she grabbed a while later in the Cornucopia, she finished off each of the tributes on her own. When only she and a boy from District 2 were left, while fighting with the female tribute from District 5, he was very badly wounded. But he didn't realize something: Noorena was above him on a tree branch covered in blood from her previous victims, and when he least expected it, she with her machete cleanly cut off his head and declared herself the winner of the 60th Hunger Games. But still, it seemed depressing to me. She was praying all the time, always killed the tributes in ways they didn't suffer, and when she won, she broke down in tears and never appeared again as a mentor. This is unfair, girls and boys sent to die, and even though I don't agree, the government of Panem has no problem killing children like me.
I prepare to go to the Plaza de las Flores, grab my bag, and fill it with pearls that I got while walking on the beach near my house, hidden in a mini forest. Only I know about it, because no one wants to go there because of the mutts, and not normal ones, giant sea creatures, that can devour you as soon as they see you, but they haven't attacked me, I'm invisible to them. I grabbed a handful of pearls to exchange them for basic food at the square to have one more day of food. My destination is to meet my best friend, Annie Cresta, a Cuban whose laughter and warm hug are a balm in these dark times. And it always has been. When my father died, she was with me at my house for three days along with her mother. She gave me her lunch at school and comforted me whenever I needed it.
I go to the square and quickly go to a jeweler. He looks at me and greets me as he invites me into his tent. "Let's see, my girl, what do you have?" I showed him a bag full of pearls. "I can't believe it, where did you get so many?"
"I can't tell you, sir, you know they'll shut down my business." Anyway, entering that place is a death sentence.
"Well, my girl, how much do you want for them?" he said as he took money out of his cash register.
"With that amount of pearls, I think they would be like 300." I said, that would be enough for a week, but my brother eats a lot. He's tall and very strong and robust. He eats twice or even three times as much as I do, but his job warrants it. He gave me my 300 and shook my hand.
"Have a good day, girl, take care," he said as he stroked my head.
When I go out, I set out to look for Annie. They always give me my lunch for free there, black beans with rice and shredded meat. They always give me all kinds of food, and I appreciate that more than anything. At Annie's food stand, shouts and laughter can be heard from the entrance of the square, people dancing along with peacekeepers with their families eating. I enter the tent and there is Lucía, Annie's mother. She is counting the earnings while Annie hands me an empanada. "Chama, take this, you look malnourished," she laughs as she ruffles my hair.
"Yes, yes, Annie. As if I had ever experienced malnutrition with all those delicious dishes they prepare here," I reply with a smile. She has a quite particular sense of humor, she always tells me I'm skin and bones as an excuse to give me more food than I should. But she brightens up my day every day, and more so on a day like this. She was very nervous last year because
because she was eligible for the games for the first time that year. She spent her time praying every night, and I spent the two days before at her house because she was so nervous, and we didn't sleep those nights. Luckily, she wasn't reaped, but this year she's still nervous. She thinks I don't notice, but I know her so well that I even feel like I can read her mind.
"And are you excited for the party?" Lucia comments with sarcasm in her voice. "It's starting in two hours, so get moving and get ready. Today you should be more dressed up than ever, something formal like a dress," she says while looking me up and down. She doesn't do it unpleasantly; she has the same sense of humor as her daughter and her whole family, but it's like a Hispanic tradition, laughing to keep from crying, laughing to avoid suffering.
"Oh, ma'am, you know I don't have dresses. The only one I have is my mom's, and it's from her wedding. Today I'm not getting married, you know," I reply, trying to keep the mood light. But I would never wear my mother's dress for something like the reaping; I will never in my life wear it for anything. It's the only thing that holds the memory of my mother, and you can see her personality in it: a white dress with edges that simulate waves, with open sleeves and a light blue on each edge, and very shiny. I wouldn't be able to wear it, maybe at my wedding, but I don't want to get married. That means children, and I don't want to have them just to see them die.
Annie touches my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts, and says with a contagious laugh, "Don't worry, girl, I'll lend you a dress. Remember, I'm rolling in dough and have a bunch of dresses." It's a bit true; it's just that her seafood business became popular, and they even opened a restaurant downtown. Still, they refused to leave their home here. They say they belong to the port and won't leave unless it's necessary.
"Okay, if you say so, let's see," I agree, and Annie takes me by the hand to her house. Her house is in front of the square, and it's a huge house where Annie's whole family lives: her grandparents, uncles, cousins, great-grandparents, etc. She lives on the third floor with her mom, dad, and four brothers.
We climb the stairs until we reach her room. While she searches among her dresses, she continues talking to me about the latest news from the district, trying to dispel the tension that hangs in the air.
"Did you hear that Finnick Odair has another girlfriend? She's a redhead who lives in the rich neighborhood. Finnick sure doesn't waste time with the rich," Annie comments while she fixes my hair into two ponytails.
"Well, Finnick always had a weakness for redheads." All the time I've known him, he's always had that thing for redheads. He even told me once. I remember, we were in one of the many hidden coves near my house. We were talking about how a guy was pretending to court Annie, and the topic of what kind of boy or girl we like came up.
"Annie, what kind of guy do you like?" I said while eating ice cream. I remember that at that time neither she nor I could afford such luxuries, but Finnick bought us ice cream, just because he wanted to, not expecting anything in return.
"My type of guy is tall, muscular, tanned. Mana, you know what my type is."
"Your type is Mr. Carlitos' son," Finnick said, laughing. She grabbed a handful of sand and threatened to throw it at him, but in the end, she didn't do anything.
"And you, very cool guy, what's your type? No lying, lies and you get sand in your face," Annie said. He just laughed.
"My type is girls with a tan skin, brown eyes, freckles, and who are redheads." Finnick stared at me intensely after saying that, no idea why. Annie just burst out laughing and touched my shoulder.
"And you, girl, what's your type?"
"I don't have one," I said while playing with the sand. Suddenly, I feel a piece of sand fall on my head. I turn around and see Finnick. He said to me, "L-I-A-R." I grabbed a handful of sand, and we started a sand war. I miss that. I wish we had never drifted apart.
Annie was looking at quite a few dresses, but none seemed to convince her. Finally, at the back of the closet, she pulled out a light blue dress with shell design at the bottom of the dress and with sparkles on the neckline. "This dress is made for you," she says as she hands it to me to put on. It's very beautiful, too beautiful for someone like me to wear. "You should wear it, you'll look so beautiful. You'll look like a princess," she says.
"No, girl, I can't wear this. You should wear it." After I say that, she rolls her eyes.
"It's not a question, you're going to wear it," she says without giving me a chance to say anything else. Then she turns around and grabs a small box. When I open it, I feel like crying. It was my mother's necklace. We had to sell it after my father's death, a beautiful necklace with a mermaid holding a bluish-green stone that my mother wore all the time. "Happy early birthday."
"But how did you get it?" I was sobbing as I held it in my hands.
"I paid a guy with 4 zeros the amount you sold it for," she said while laughing and hugging me. "Should I put it on you?"
I nodded, and she put the necklace on me. I couldn't stop crying. Now I have more debts to repay her; rather, I will never be able to repay her. "Girl, this looks perfect on you." I look at myself in the mirror, and yes, I actually look somewhat pretty. "You're like a mermaid; you sing very well and swim better than anyone in this district. It seems like you could live in the water perfectly." I blush slightly at her comment, and before I can say anything, she takes my hand and says, "Come on, we've talked too much and the reaping is about to start."
With the borrowed dress, we head together to the Plaza de las Flores. The music and excitement increase as we approach the heart of the event. The reaping is about to begin, and although the fear persists, Annie's company gives me the strength to face what is to come.
On the way, I met my brother. I went and hugged him, and he hugged me back with more force. He had a small bag in his hand.
"What's that, brother?" I asked curiously.
"They're tequeños. Since it's going to be your birthday, I want you to gain like 5 kilos." It's a tradition for poor people like us to feed the next birthday person until they can't eat anymore. It's like a reward for staying alive.
I was eating them when peacekeepers directed us to the lines with the other children. I was almost in the front row, and the Plaza de las Flores is enveloped in a gloomy atmosphere as the reaping ceremony begins. The sky is cloudy, casting unsettling shadows on the faces of the District 4 residents. Annie and I grip each other's hands tightly, feeling the weight of uncertainty looming over us.
The District 4 escort, with his extravagant attire, steps onto the stage. He is followed by Mags and Finnick, victors of past Hunger Games, along with the mayor. I make eye contact, and he immediately winks at me. He was always this ridiculous, always trying to flirt with all the girls in the district. I just rolled my eyes and continued paying attention to the ceremony.
Silence takes hold of the plaza as he begins to recount the history of the dark days and how these games were made to punish the districts. Every word seems like an ominous echo, resonating in my heart. When it's time to announce the female tribute, the escort starts making jokes that don't quite fit at the moment. Then he says, "Ladies first." A chill runs down my spine as he pulls out the small slip of paper. I have a bad feeling.
"This year's female tribute is…" The escort takes a moment that seems endless before saying, with a voice that cuts through the air, "Marina Fernandez."
"No, this can't be real. This is impossible. How, why?" Annie says, looking at me horrified. I feel like time stops. The stares focus on me, and a mix of resignation and terror leaves me paralyzed. My heart beats hard, and the certainty that the Hunger Games stretch before me like a dark abyss consumes me. A peacekeeper pulls me toward the stage. I don't want to go, I'm too young to die, that's what all the tributes say, but there's nothing they can do. But in that moment, I find Kai's eyes in the crowd.
My brother's gaze reflects terror and shock. The anguish on his face doesn't go unnoticed. The possibility of losing me is as real as the Arena itself. The terror grows stronger and stronger. I'm not ready to face what's coming. The Capitol cameras focus on my face, and I know that every gesture, every expression, is being scrutinized.
The escort prepares to announce the male tribute. The air becomes denser, and nervous glances are exchanged among the district residents. I feel a commotion, but I'm so stunned that I don't realize my brother is advancing toward the stage.
"This year's male tribute is…" The escort hesitates for a moment before saying, "Kenji Ishika-" Everyone turns to see my brother shouting and making his way through the crowd.
"I OFFER MYSELF AS A TRIBUTE," he said with a desperate voice.
"Boy, I think you got a little ahead of yourself. Well, it doesn't matter. Come up on stage, please."
My heart sinks. The crowd reacts in shock. The Fernandez siblings. The people in the Capitol must be moved. This is cruel, but I can't say anything, because if I do, it will be worse for us. My gaze meets Annie's, paralyzed by surprise, and in her teary eyes, I see that she knows we won't make it out of this.
The reality of the tragedy hits me hard. My brother and I, condemned to the Hunger Games. Kai advances to the stage with determination. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, I know he will do whatever it takes to protect me, and that terrifies me. We will die because of me, all because of me.
The Plaza de las Flores plunges into a sepulchral silence as the Fernandez siblings face our fate. Darkness looms over us, but amidst the tragedy, the people around us start singing a song, a song that was used in ancient times to demonstrate pride. That gives me a spark of hope, but it's just an illusion of the deadly fate that awaits me.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
lmao not me realizing all the trailers passed me by XD so here's me reacting to each trailer
Info: caught up with the manga, tho not really any spoilers
youtube
Einar & Thorfinnnnn my brotherssss
that "they're beasts, monsters in human skin" with tiny thorfinn's blank look a tiny child body standing in a burning battlefield 👌
I see which scenes they're putting their money into
bless, the anime made his scruffy looks look good XD lowkey gonna miss scruffy manga Thorfinn (admittedly while reading it even for a second time I was "I'm looking forward to seeing that fucking beard gone")
the moth thing is still so fucking hilarious
bruh what are they using all the best lines and moments in even one trailer for?
a-anime Snake 😳
fucking Canute. 😒 and omg short haired Canute!
!! more Canute scenes???? 👀
Ulf!
Who's that redhead being crowned? Harald? OMG THAT MEANS-?? 🥺 (fuck.) better see more of that sister. 😒
I see some I thought to be blondes are redheads here but glad about that small diversity
Oh that eye thing fancy
May we get a Canute in his seat resting/sleeping with a book over his face? 👉👈
Head time.
youtube
that "from today on you'll be friends" and about though it's literal, that combined with "cultivate, invest, harvest it" <3
Omgggggg more young Thorfinn scenessss
Also just, the cut on his ear is different now
*splat* (could say something more profound but I choose not to try articulate it)
Einar utilizing that macho voice, investing in Thorfinn's life and will to live.
Bro. 🥺 -
- Bro. 🥹
AAAHHH THE OP SONG!! I'm liking it, the vibe is certainly something
yesyes give me more flashback of that rabid kiddo
oh. looking back. it's thorfinn pov. it reminds me of a fight I read when I caught up just this weekend, it was interesting. I thought that way of visualizing it was a rather cool choice
sister gets to talk now, interesting how that line is framed there, true enough I guess thorfinn come over to make him laugh
those conehead brothers, are they emphasizing it? XD
ah those brothers huh. call that a Wake Me Up (vIOleNCE edition)
you're making me dizzy with those waves man
them dehydrated muscles 🥵 /s
"The strong kills the weak, it's only natural" 🧐S3 material (it was thorfinn saying that right?)? cause like, bruh-
idk what's up with that last frame of Thorfinn but yea he angsty (can I just gush about how I love how we gradually saw him become more expressive and smiley throughout the manga? like- 🥺 that's it mate)
youtube
RISE UP LIKE A PHOENIX- okay I just... yea... I've hyped myself up for this season and I'm genuinely so excited, the first 2 eps sticks very closely to the manga still so ✨
"I'm going to be reborn" + image of rising a farming tool to start making a field = farmland saga being all about "cultivating, investing and harvesting" a better You from the ashes of your former self that forms your heavy cloak
They really did get that beard looking thick huh, it's interesting. Like, the scruff in the manga made it sorta hard to see the connection between pre and post scruff face as "just add scruff to the face" cause it changed his face so much. Also damn does that make him look older than he is when it's a full beard, mate's like 19-22, sis did a good decision with that one.
This ED gets me fucking teary okay
💅
glad we're doing the falling thing, tho OP be drowning
CRISP, 1. literally and 2. not, in that order
imagine if Thorfinn did a manbun instead (oh- now I lowkey wanna draw a joke w the ponytail)
Pretty Thors profile with the contrast and other highlight (hm. imagine if he gained that same wavy gene)
Pretty eyes Canute what else is newt
Yes cry it out! 💪
I need my boys to cry it out together, bless 🙏
okay but oboi those parallels/foils with Canute this arc
1 note
·
View note
Text
Fire starter. That's what I'd call my sister. Suits well with her personality. It was draining enough to be rooming with her and then I had to go on a holiday with her. Let me give you a snippet of what I have gone through so far. Imagine you're sleeping, in deep sleep, your alarm goes off, but you don't wake up. And then while you're sleeping, you received a punch right to your face, or a slap or a kick. It doesn't happen once but multiple occasions. I know I have to wake up and I'm sorry that my body doesn't hear it but I don't think I deserved that. My ever so perfect sister, is definitely reaching her goal to be just like my mother. I don't understand why this family or rather my siblings and mother has to resort to violence. I have never once done that to Haziq, Nabil or Naufal. I believe they would've had enough from our parents. My trauma just continues to add on. On the first day of our trip to KL, my mood wasn't the best. I didn't want to go but it was my father's birthday wish to have all his kids around so I did went and it was mostly due to my sisters being there. Naturally when we reached a destination, my dad, stepmum and brother, they'd have their own agenda and they'd tell us to hang on our own if we wna get our own things. I didn't wna get anything but I still went ahead and followed my sisters first. Then I realised they were engrossed with their own things which I didn't mind, so I left them and went to walk around on my own since my stepmum said I could do so.
Then I received a call from my sister asking where I was at. I said I'm walking around. Then she said oh we're finding things for our father's birthday and I was asked to meet at the watch shop. Fine I went. I initially didn't want to before they told about the gift part. I said to her when you are done then tell me. So when I had reached the shop they asked me which watch was nice, I gave my opinion. Then I realised it was a brand that I've gotten before for our father. I thought it'd be thoughtful if another brand was chosen. One of my sister decided to raise her voice and said that it's her problem for choosing this brand blablabla. You wanted my opinion. I gave. You're not receptive. What the fuck. Then my other sister said oh I want to talk to you outside. And she passive aggressively said, what do you mean (referring to the phonecard earlier) when I die then tell you. I was like WHAT? I said when you are DONE. Bro didn't even asked nicely. Then she went on bringing me up about my behaviour coming back home late. Saying that it has an impact on others cause other people talk about it. I asked who because if other people knows means someone talked about it what. Then she was stunned and said people talked about my piercings. Bro. How does me having piercings link to this. If their mindset is piercings means bad person, then that's for you to change it. Then she changed it bad saying I was selfish. I just kept quiet cause I was lazy to even clarify myself. Once she said, "When you're out, are you doing things that Ibu is okay with or even Allah is okay with" You just threw your whole assumption out there. Who are you to deem that I was doing things that God didn't like. So after that damn conversation, I just didn't even bother to talk to her. On the last night, while I was sleeping, she literally SHOUTED at me to wake me up for subuh to pray. My goodness.
Today, while having my pre-dawn, she was like oh did you read my text. *Context: I used the bike the night before* I said no, she asked me to read. Points said were fair enough, I just wouldn't ride at night then. Simple right. But no she had to went on and ask what time I came home. When I said 230am, she turned to my mother who was also sitting at the table and then my mother gave an earful. Still trying to find the link but whatever. I found that all unnecessary. Did you think I was going to stop coming home late or what? Like what's your motive. tbc.
0 notes
Text
Colleyville one year later. Colleyville, Texas. Beth Israel Synagogue.
The antisemitic attack began, the first cry for help was “I’ve got someone who has a gun and ... he says he has two bombs and he’s asking police to move back.”
It wasn't the first and it won't be the last synagogue to come under attack if we don't change things. If our allies don't stop it before it starts. It isn't even the first synagogue in Texas to be under attack.
The one change in the usual script is this man not only wanted to hold Jews in Texas hostage, but Jews in New York. He demanded the number of another rabbi based in New York. He wanted the release of a prisoner. This was supposedly his whole purpose for being at Beth Israel. He was under the impression not only that Beth Israel could aid him in this, but Rabbi Buchdal from New York.
Rabbi Charlie Cytron-Walker no longer is rabbi at Beth Israel. He moved to a congregation in North Carolina back in July of last year. Not because of what happened at Beth Israel, he had already been given the job when he was taken hostage. He says he has not suffered any post traumatic stress, which is a blessing in and of itself.
We are used to being told we have far more power than we actually do. The antisemite was certainly convinced that a grand total of 5 Jews could get a Pakistani terrorist released. Without having any actual connection to the prison the terrorist-- Aafia Siddiqui-- was being held. Beth Israel is a relatively small congregation in a moderately affluent part of the DFW metroplex. Nowhere could anyone find how he expected these 5 random Jews to have the power he wanted.
We apparently have all this hidden power and yet we are murdered. Antisemitic attacks have risen sharply in the past few years. If we had all this power antisemites claim, we would not be dying in senseless violence in our places of worship or even just being in our neighborhoods.
We have seen it all before. We know the script. We yell 'never again' and are ignored. The only power we have is getting right back up and proclaiming we are still here. Thousands of years, millions murdered, and yet, Jews are still here. Our power doesn't extend beyond that, though we wish it did. We wish we could wake up tomorrow and be free of the worry that today is the day we're going to be killed for the crime of being Jewish in public. A vast majority of our holidays are this proclamation: they tried to kill us. They failed. (Let's eat.)
We have no other power. We are told 'choose life' and so we do. Every time. When will the people around us do the same?
1 note
·
View note
Text
This is a viewpoint editorial by Erik Dale, host of the "Bitcoin For Breakfast" podcast. While we are far from safe, Bitcoiners are perhaps a few of the most tranquil individuals in the world. Starting violence is antithetical to Bitcoin both as a shop of worth and as a shop of worths. And the network does an outstanding task at safeguarding itself through its decentralization. No army required. And I definitely do not desire any confusion with the "XRP Army" or the like. Yet, with fiat nukes directed at London, Moscow and Berlin, our fiat overlords enhancing themselves faster than late middle ages Popes and our fiat future assuring a level of censorship and security the Gestapo never ever dreamed about, stacking sats might be thought about as our only resistance. Decentralized Resistance Of course, the fastest method to grow a modern-day army is to be gotten into by Russia, however I wish to share some lessons from among the most effective examples of decentralized resistance the world has actually ever seen. A motion born in the wake of a disruptive interactions innovation that enabled info to be copied and spread out at an unthinkable speed. A development produced to conquer the corruption and ineffectiveness of organizations which had actually outlasted their effectiveness. A concept which made it through all attacks, from harsh internal persecution to years of continental war. I'm not discussing Bitcoin. I wish to share 7 lessons we can gain from late-medieval Bitcoiners who went through a comparable Reformation: It is completion of the world. Copy whatever. Make it regional for plebs. OPSEC matters. Create your own community. Open-source it. Die on this hill. The End Of The World The late 15 th century in Europe was an odd, Matrix-like experience. Imagine being Neo, strolling through the streets of Amsterdam in, state 1492 (to make it relatable to our pals from throughout the Atlantic). What do you see? It's a world where nearly every element of life is controlled by a single set of organizations that are associated with very important life shifts, supply almost all well-being and education and even choose what is heretical false information and who is certified to access the reality. Get it? To many people around us, the world we're ending is the just one they have actually ever understood. Maybe much more so in a world as old as Europe. A number of them will battle us to keep it going. Safe to state, you can't simply walk around disconnecting individuals from the Matrix willy-nilly. Start by talking with individuals more than likely to eavesdrop today and the least most likely to injure you in the future: your friends and family. Copy Everything, Everywhere Being a censor in 1492 needs to have been an infuriating experience. Since Johannes Gutenberg ended up being the very first individual to determine how to link his printer to Wi-Fi, things have actually gotten actually out of hand. By 1492, the majority of significant European nations were filled with hipster printing shop, a minimum of 25 of them simply in the Netherlands. While the repercussions of this were not instantly evident-- like the web in the '90 s-- it generally made it possible for a model of an immutable public journal by drastically increasing the expense of controling or quelching info. What utilized to get made with a letter from the Pope now needed an entire damn inquisition. Clearly, late middle ages bitcoiners would all concur: run your own node! Make It Local For Plebs The biggest weak point of the effective is constantly their contempt and mistrust in regular individuals. Imagine living in a world where just formally certified individuals can legally analyze the reality, composed in a language that's incomprehensible to anybody who has actually not been persuaded by the very same organizations. It's a big stretch of the creativity. In conditions like this, the fact ends up being a crown in the rain gutter. When Martin Luther equated the
Bible into vernacular German and at the exact same time declined that the Church was required to read it, he just selected it up and made it regional. Trust that anybody can have a relationship with the fact if you make it readily available to them. Make some memes, compose an op ed, begin a podcast, equate a book! OPSEC Matters Luther most likely didn't mean to invest 300 days concealing in the attic of Wartburg Castle, however he absolutely doxxed himself. While the inquisition had actually existed in different kinds for centuries, it was radicalized in reaction to the printing press and just ended up being truly vicious for a duration after the Reformation. Operations security (OPSEC) matters and organizations that appear benign today might switch on you tomorrow. This lesson is quite easy: Make sure your bitcoin is not linked to your identity through know-your-customer exchanges (non-KYC), never ever inform anybody just how much bitcoin you own and take actions to safeguard your privacy when you can. Create Your Own Ecosystem Let's have a program of hands. Who has utilized Bitcoin prior to? Who has utilized Lightning prior to? Who runs their own node? Who has been to El Salvador? The very first princes to defend the reformation were Catholics. They had their own self-centered factors for braking with the Church. By welcoming in a concept whose time had actually come, they basically changed their worlds in manner ins which are still extremely noticeable today. It is no coincidence that the most affluent and most effective nations in Europe today remain in northern Europe, as they have actually been for centuries now. So if you think, as I do, that Bitcoin is a fork in the roadway for liberty and success, it is as ethically incumbent upon us to spread out regional adoption as it is for a Christian to conserve your soul. Organize or participate in meetups, teach your hair stylist about bitcoin, deal to pay individuals back over Lightning. And if that does not work, go to someplace it does. Make It Open-Source Translating and dispersing the Bible while declining the Church as required for people to analyze it, generally open-sourced the Reformation. While some kept up the open-sourced Bible and made themselves "Supreme Head of the Church of England," to this day there are generally as lots of forks of the Reformation as there are parishes. This implies there is no single point of failure, and the big range of faith and action made the Reformation much more antifragile than the monolithic superstructure is looked for to challenge. Crushing it ended up being a difficult video game of whack-a-mole. Create neighborhoods with Bitcoiners, develop the castle you've been dreaming about and bring your understanding and viewpoint on bitcoin to the table. Make Bitcoin a hydra. Die On This Hill The curious aspect of Jesus is that he might have cut the entire thing brief at any time, however he didn't. He went to a gruesome end, not understanding if his sacrifice would make a distinction. He didn't blame God, the federal government or his fellow guy for what was taking place. He brought his own cross and his own suffering. He did this since of something we now understand to be mathematically real, both on a specific and a social level: The more individuals want to suffer for the sins of others, the less sin there will be for everybody to suffer for. Jesus actually created the meme: I will pass away on this hill. Conclusion There is a series of concepts, tools and neighborhoods that all comprise the intellectual, technological and social toolbox of Bitcoin. Whether you choose to think about Bitcoin as a method to conserve our flexibilities, our economy or our environment, I hope I've assisted you zoom out and motivated you to think of how you can equip yourself and those around you for the years ahead. This is a visitor post by Erik Dale. Viewpoints revealed are totally their own and do not always show those of BTC Inc or Bitcoin Magazine.
Read More
0 notes
Note
t4t riddlebird lets go
you bet bb 💚💜 there's not a single part of my being that could believe that they were cis and weren't soulmates lmao it's t4t lovers to the end
good morning
just a lil morning scene between them so we can really see how much ed leans into hybristophilia because he does he really does also canon, never heard of them but they sound horrible? i'm a writer on gotham now, we're going by my hcs just shhh pretend, you're thinking about it so like don't think about
minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff, mentions of violence, murder, guns, kissing, dry humping, bit of pain kink, obviously hybristophilia too
Oswald was spoiled rotten and he was kept ever smug in the knowledge that he might have warned Ed not to give into his demands so early in their relationship. He knew he was difficult to disagree with or say no to, but rather than offer any reprieve, he let himself be served and serviced by his wonderful, concerningly patient, boyfriend.
He rolled over in the plush bed, opening his eyes and squinting while they adjusted, the long figure in front of the window taking shape as the light became less of a burden on his vision. There stood Edward, unclothed completely apart from his glasses and his clean, white briefs, his smooth chest close enough to smell as he bent down to put Oz's breakfast tea on the bedside table for him.
"Good morning, Oswald." His tone, a little brusque, caught Oz off guard in comparison to how angelic he had looked just a moment ago, bathed in the light of the day. "Although, it's closer to the afternoon now. Did you know, that if you wake up early, you'll increase your productivity and it positively affects your optimism for the day ahead?"
"Is that why you're so cheerful all the time?"
Ed turned to walk away, but Oswald reached out his hand, warm against Ed's clammy wrist, and pulled him back around, easing him into the bed beside him. He made no eye contact with him at first, choosing instead to gaze upon his almost entirely hairless chest, running his hands along the flat of his rib cage, breathing dreamily, content to just have someone so beautiful to look at. And, wincing at the realisation of how weak he was for him, Ed leaned into the tender, physical affection. With one hand at an angle, head resting on his hand, the other found it’s way to Oz’s side, rubbing it over the top of the soft sheets, feeling the heat that radiated from under them.
“Why anyone would ever want to get out of bed is beyond me. Especially if you were in it with them.”
Oz leant in to kiss Ed, hands gently picking his glasses from his face and setting them behind him on the table. He pressed his nose to Ed’s cheek as his hands made their way lower, warm hands trailing down his cold spine, making their way into his tight pants and cupping at his cheeks, grasping them firmly as their lips met again. In this familiar, entangled embrace, they shared their most tender moments. It was less of a torrid affair in the morning. Something about the sunlight made them both so gentle, loving. But the caress was proving too much for Ed, who had begun to grind himself into Oz, moans pushing past both of their tongues, breaking the kiss up.
“What are you going to do today, Oz?”
“I mean, is now the time to nag me to get out of bed? Or-”
“No, you know what I mean.” He sighed heavily, separating their lips and pressing a kiss to Oz’s cheek, a line of precision-tainted kisses following down his neck and his collarbone, further still to where Ed lay his head onto Oz’s chest, soft and unbound. As he spoke, he let his lips pass over Oz’s nipples, hardening from the tease.
“You know what I mean. What are you going to do. Today. Oz.”
“I’m going to be bad, Ed.”
“Mmmmm.” A satisfied moan, vibrating through Oz’s ribcage, electric energy sending goosebumps over his arms.
“In fact, I think I’ll be evil.”
Less noise from his loving boyfriend, who was now firmly pressed to his chest, kissing and sucking and biting at the flesh. Oz strained to talk past his own pleasure, but continued for Ed.
“I have some meetings to attend, some people to threaten. It’s even possible I might break a few fingers if the mood takes me.”
“W-what else?”
“Not enough? Hm…” He ran his fingers through Ed’s soft hair, gently tugging at it as his hands reached the ends, palms clinging softly to create just a little pain, a sensation enough to have Ed tensing, body half on top of him, cradling him in an embrace as he ground his body against his side.
“I suppose I might also see to that young man at the restaurant down town, the one who forgot his upkeep last week. Oh, the things I could do to him. Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Mm…yes I would, Oz…please.”
“I’m going to shoot him, Ed. I’m going to shoot him and toss him in that filthy river. The solution to all life’s problems.”
“Oh, Oz…” he stifled a moan as he bit down harder on Oz’s nipple, thrusting himself against his hip and thigh, desperately mewling at the friction between himself and the ethereal, villainous creature that lay beside him. “That’s so horrible. Tell me more, please.”
Oz teased at Ed’s hair once more before dragging his finger nails, sharp and yet ticklish, down his neck, clutching at the shoulder muscles that twitched at the touch, pressing sharper at Ed’s whimpers.
“I’m just going to be so mean today, Ed.” He spoke in a softer, almost taunting tone, speaking to his greatly intelligent lover as though he were a pathetic, stupid child. “I’m going to be the biggest, baddest man who ever walked the streets of Gotham.” He was very aware of Ed’s impending climax, somehow able to bring himself to orgasm with Oz’s words alone as he pressed himself hard against him, rubbing and thrusting and using his body. Oz pressed his hands against Ed’s rear again, finger slipping between them to gently press and rub at his entrance, breath hitching at the warmth, at the drool that instantly fell from Ed’s mouth, open in ecstasy. “And anyone who gets in my way, will meet their fate at my hands.”
“Mmph…Oz…Oswald…you’re so…I love it when you…I’m uh…oh dear…”
“I’m not afraid to get dirty, remember.”
At the pressure of Oz’s finger crooking inside of him, the threats of violence and the friction burning against his wonderful, disturbing partner, Ed felt himself losing control, spilling out, cumming in his pants. He whimpered, embarrassment throwing a shade of red onto his usually pallid cheeks, uttering soft apologies to Oz as he buried his face further into his chest. Kissing between his sorrys.
“It’s alright, Ed. But if you don’t let me go back to bed now, you’ll be on my list.”
#finnie writes#oswald x edward#riddler x penguin#riddlebird#nygmobblepot#riddler#the riddler#batman#edward nygma#friends being friends#edward nigma#edward nashton#gotham#gotham riddler#gotham pengpuin#oswald cobblepot
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
north//chapter twenty
genre: fluff, angst
warnings: mentions of canonical violence and deaths, lmk if I missed anything
word count: 4k
summary: Spencer is getting reacquainted with life outside of prison, and he gets a not-so-great phone call.
pairing: season twelve spencer reid x oc
please remember to comment, like, and reblog!!
AMELIA
Spencer and I managed to sleep through the entire day and the majority of the night. After all, the previous day was probably one of the most eventful of my entire life and it left me absolutely exhausted. I can't quite speak for Spencer because I'm sure he's had much longer days than yesterday, especially when he has been away for cases, but it was still stressful and way too long for both of us.
I wake up before Spencer as the sun starts to rise the next day, the sunlight pouring in through the opened window on the other side of the room. Before I even consider getting out of bed or looking at my phone, I look to my side to check on Spencer. He's sleeping soundly, his cheek pressed against his pillow and his hand on my side of the bed, no longer wrapped around mine. He looks absolutely angelic at this moment, his mouth hanging open and his body completely relaxed.
I promised Spencer that I'd be here for him and that I wouldn't leave the bed without him. I've never broken a promise to him before and I don't plan on starting now. So, moving as little as possible so I don't disturb him, I sit up against the headboard, reaching into my bedside table for my journal. I pop open the top and start furiously scribbling down everything I can remember from the last two or so days and how I feel about it, how excited I am to have Spencer home again, and how terrified I am to have Spencer home again.
I barely even notice it when Spencer starts squirming beside me, and my attention is only taken away from my journal when his hand grabs onto my thigh. I smile down at his suddenly tiny figure, finding that he's already looking up at me with a tired gaze.
"Good morning, love," I chirp, tossing my journal onto the floor and sinking back under the duvet in an attempt to absorb some of his radiating body heat. Since he already touched me and he's seemingly feeling okay in the morning sun, I let my hand stray and trail through his flat curls. "Did you sleep well? You didn't wake me up."
Spencer sucks his lips between his teeth, shrugging softly. "I woke up a few times. I just--" he wiggles his hips as he tries to come up with an excuse, "I didn't need to wake you up. I didn't need to bother you. Having you here was enough."
I bring my hand to the back of Spencer's neck, huffing with some slight annoyance, "You're not a bother. You never have and you never will be," Spencer just shrugs dismissively in response, and reaches his hands up to rub his eyes. Spencer has never been good at these kinds of conversations and I imagine he's far too tired to entertain a lecture about how important he is. So I make a mental note to bring this topic back up as I sit up and stretch. "Alright, well, do you want some breakfast? I can make us something to eat."
"Yeah, sure," he nods, ducking away from my grasp and quickly sliding out of bed, putting on a pair of shoes I hadn't realized he set up on his side of the bed.
I reach for a pair of sweatpants but when I look up to find Spencer frozen in his spot, staring at the bed, I drop the pants and sit up on my knees. The sheets are rustled and the duvet is in a heap under me, and he's very fixated on this. His arms are glued to his side but his fingers are twitching like he's dying to use them.
"Spence? Everything okay?" I ask gently, and like the other instances where he gets lost in a daydream, he doesn't react to me. "Spencer?" I call again in hopes of getting some sort of response. But his fingers just twitch and he takes a long, frustrated breath. "Talk to me," I don't know if pressing the issue will help, but if I don't at least try to get him to talk, then I'll never figure out what his issue is. "I just wanna help you, but I can't do that if you don't talk to me."
Spencer quickly covers his face with his hands, his breathing becoming labored and heavy, chest heaving. "The bed. It's the bed. It's-- I need-- it's the bed."
It looks like a bed to me. It's a messy bed, sure, but it's just a bed to me. I pause for a second to try to get my brain to match Spencer's. I try to see what he is seeing, but all I see is a bed that we just used for its intended purpose. It just needs to be made, that's all. I can't see into Spencer's brain so I have to resort to asking. "What about the bed?"
"I--" he drops his hands, balling them up into fists again, "The bed is supposed to be made. I need to make the bed. It needs to be made or else they're gonna come and I'll get in trouble. It-- the-- the bed needs to be made."
Oh, this poor baby. My heart aches for him. Not all of him made it out of that prison cell. Part of him is still there. He's not here with me. He didn't really come home.
"Spencer, you're not gonna get in trouble here. It's just me. It's just Lia," My voice shakes as I try to speak, my hands pressed to my cheeks to continuously wipe the tears that start to fall. "I'm never gonna yell at you or hurt you or get mad because you didn't make your bed. Dove, you can make the bed if you want to, but you don't have to. It's okay. I'm not gonna be mad. You won't get in trouble. It's just me."
Spencer stares at me, his eyes wide and his lips parted. His hands aren't twitching anymore but they're still reaching towards the bed. He doesn't say anything, he just stares at me in bewilderment.
I compose myself with a deep breath, wiping my cheeks quickly and climbing off the bed. "Dove, make the bed, please. I want you to do anything that makes you feel better. But if you choose not to, I'm not gonna be mad," I step towards Spencer, holding my hands out in front of me and not expecting him to grab them. "I'm gonna go downstairs and I'm gonna start cooking, and you come down when you're ready, okay?"
I give Spencer one more attempt at a convincing smile before turning and going downstairs. My first stop is to the living room, and I pop the record into the player that Spencer had put on yesterday. If it did something to comfort him yesterday, hopefully it will do the same today. I grab both of our phones and start cooking breakfast.
I mix batter for waffles in a bowl as I check my notifications, sifting through a whole load of texts. My groupchat with my friends has a couple hundred texts, starting off with lots of questions and concerns about Spencer from yesterday, asking if he's okay, if he's home, wondering how happy we are. I have other texts from Wendy and Mike, asking the same types of questions that my friends did. I send some quick responses to all of them and let them know that we're home, we slept for a very long time, and that I'll contact them later with more updates.
Spencer's quiet footsteps approach and I turn to face him, breathing a sigh of relief when I find he's not so worked up anymore. "I hope waffles are okay."
Once I've closed the waffle maker and let it start cooking, I glance over my shoulder to ee what Spencer is doing. He's sitting gingerly at the island, placing his elbows on the granite and eyes darting around the room. Honestly, I don't even know why he sat there. He absolutely hated sitting there and eating yesterday, and it made him have some sort of flashback. Maybe it's because he started off the morning with the prison-bed situation, and now the natural order of events in the day is to be transported right to prison-breakfast.
"Hey, bub, you don't have to sit at the table," I say casually, trying not to bring too much attention to it. "You didn't like that yesterday. But you seemed better when we sat on the floor so we can do that again, or we can go on the couch or the balcony." I don't even have time to see his reaction before the waffle maker beeps, and I have to whip around to pull the waffle out.
I can hear Spencer shuffling behind me, and then I feel his shoulder brushing against my leg as he slides down to the floor beside me. I put the waffle onto the plate and hand it down to him, then open the drawer above his head to grab a fork.
"Thank you," Spencer mumbles, catching my free hand in his and pressing his lips to the back of my hand. It's clearly a thank you for more than just handing him a fork, or making him breakfast, or sleeping with him, or showering with him, or anything of that. It's a thank you for being so patient with him, but I couldn't fathom not being there for him in the way he needs. I want to tell him that he doesn't need to thank me, but in his mind, it is something he needs to do, so I decide to let it happen for a while before I start to refuse his thanks.
The next week functions almost identical to this. Spencer is quiet, keeping to himself and eating his meals on the floor and making the bed perfectly in the morning, cleaning the bedroom floor every night, wearing a tee shirt to bed. I get just a few glimpses of the man he was, but not many.
Emily had called later that day to let Spencer know that the entire BAU was placed on a mandatory six week leave, but also that he had to be evaluated for reinstatement. A whole slew of people have to review Spencer's actions, have to interview him, have to test him to see if he's fit to return to work, and he didn't take this news well. He didn't talk to me for a hours and just curled up on the floor of the bedroom, staring out the window with the drawn-back curtains. I tried, for so long, to get him to talk to me, but he didn't budge and he didn't even look at me. So I just grabbed whatever book was inside his go-bag from the last case he went on and sat beside him, reading aloud in an attempt to bring him back down to earth. And when he did, he went off to shower and then straight to bed.
Spencer's work is his life and there's few things he loves more than his work. I know that he would be lost without the BAU and that he would have absolutely no clue what to do with his life if he couldn't keep working there. So hearing that there's a chance that he may not be reinstated to the BAU is absolutely crushing.
On the other end of the spectrum, the prospect of Spencer not being reinstated isn't all bad to me. In his line of work, there are always going to be enemies. There's always going to be another Cat and another Lindsay. He's always going to have guns pointed at him and bombs blowing up beside him and people wanting to kill him. If he's not reinstated, I get to have him home every morning and night and I won't stare at the wall at lunch with Jenna, wondering if Spencer has just been shot or if he has a knife to his neck. I know that he would absolutely hate not being reinstated, but it would save me so much heartache.
That's an incredibly selfish thought, I know. I'm happy and willing to strip Spencer of one of the things that makes him happiest in his life just so I can sleep at night. But all I've wanted from the moment I met him is for him to be safe and to be happy and if he's not chasing serial killers, I know that he will at least be safe. Happy? I can't help but imagine he wouldn't be.
After a tense week at home, I convince Spencer to let me take him back to his apartment. He insists that he doesn't want for stay there and would rather stay with me, even though I said I would stay at his apartment with him, but I'm happy to let him keep with me. I just want him to be happy.
So I drove him over to his apartment, picked up most of his clothes and whatever else he was needing, and he rounds up an entire duffle bag full of books that I'm sure he would read in just one day. But we collect whatever he could possibly need and shove it in my car, then go straight back to my apartment. I'm starting to get a little stir crazy, being trapped in my apartment, but Spencer doesn't want to go out anywhere yet and the last thing on my mind is forcing him into things he's uncomfortable with.
"So what do you wanna do today?" I unzip the bag full of books and start making a few small piles against the wall, glancing over my shoulder at Spencer. He shrugs gently, too distracted with picking a record to properly respond to my question. Sighing, I return my attention to the books.
The record turns on and this time, I recognize it to be a record full of Christmas music. We've been listening to nothing but Taylor Swift, Frank Sinatra, and Christmas music this past week, and while that's my favorite music and I have no problem with it, it's odd. Spencer never really listened to that music, whether we were together or not. He always managed to convince me to put on some cello concerto that wound up being fifteen minutes long. I thought he would rather listen to that and not Christmas music when it's almost the summer, but I haven't questioned this yet.
"Could we," Spencer starts speaking after a moment, tearing my attention from the books, "maybe watch a movie?"
It's the first time he's suggested anything like that. Honestly, it's one of the first times he's suggested that we do anything. He's just been staying quiet and following me around like a puppy dog, watching me attempt to draw in a sketchbook or watching me cook or watching me do the laundry. He's stuck to my side, even if he hasn't been touching me much. So now that he's suggesting that we do something, I'm not about to pass up this development.
"Yeah, of course. You can choose whatever you want. I'll be over there when I'm done," Spencer nods and turns his back to me, and I pick up my pace in emptying the books from the duffle bag. I don't want to lose this momentum of him, maybe, feeling just a little bit better.
Once I've stacked all the books, I fold up the duffle bag nicely and put it in a place where it won't bother Spencer, and then head into the living room. He's sitting on the couch with a DVD case in his lap, and he holds it out to me when I approach. Always a technophobe, he never goes near the DVD player and lets me do it.
"Polar Express?" I raise my eyebrows, but that's as far as my questioning goes. I pop the DVD out of the case and put it into the player, then grab the remote and press play.
I settle onto the couch with my favorite plaid blanket, draping it over my lap. As the movie starts and the title screen shows, I feel cold. I'm completely covered and under my trusty blanket, but I'm cold. Absolutely freezing. I pull the blanket tighter around me and when my temperature doesn't shift, I quickly realize where the cold is coming from.
Spencer and I are a very physical couple. Despite his aversion to touch, he never seemed to have the problem when it came to me. Especially when we watched movies, we were always touching. Legs, hands, shoulders and heads, laps and heads. There was always a connection, but now there's none. I'm left on my own couch cushion, not sharing Spencer's cushion and continuously pushing closer and closer until we're squished together. A shiver runs down my spine.
We watch the movie in silence for a little while, all the way up until the three main characters are singing a song at the back of the train. And while they're singing, I feel Spencer reaching over, grabbing the edge of the blanket, tugging it closer to him. "You can come closer," he tells me, looking up at me through his lashes, fingers grasping the fuzz of the blanket.
Happy to comply with this request, I scoot closer to him until our legs are touching. I think that's enough for now, but then Spencer slings his arm over my legs and tugs me closer until my knees collapse over his legs and I'm laying my head on his chest. It's a position that I'm so familiar with and I've been dying to be in, but he hasn't been up for lately. My body warms up. The shivers stop.
I completely melt into his embrace, pressing my ear against his chest to listen for the steady beat of his heart as I wrap my arm around his stomach. I let my eyelids flutter closed and relax into him. The movie isn't important anymore, at least not to me.
///
SPENCER
///
Today is a good day, one of the first I've actually had since being home since my prison release. I thought that actually leaving Amelia's apartment would make me nervous, but returning home wasn't as horrible as it seemed like it would be. For once, I'm feeling pretty good. I'm even feeling well enough to watch a movie and cuddle with Amelia on the couch, just like we used to do. She still can't creep up behind me or touch me without showing me her hands first and I still can't eat at a table, but it's an improvement. Albeit a tiny one, but it's there nonetheless.
By the time the movie is coming to an end, Amelia has slid down to rest her head on my lap, her curls sprawled out and her hands pulled up to her chin. She looks ridiculously adorable like this, and even though it's a sight that I've seen many times and I've committed to memory, I wish I could sit and stare at her forever.
But that plan is foiled when my phone starts buzzing on the coffee table. My first instinct is to look down to check that Amelia is still sleeping, and all she does is scrunch up her nose a bit before relaxing. Adorable.
I grab a pillow from beside me and slide it under her head when I slip out from under her. Thankfully, she doesn't notice and she doesn't wake up. Pleased with this, I grab my phone and rush onto the balcony. I don't have time to check who it is before I answer. "Reid."
"Hey, Reid," Rossi's voice comes through the phone. "How's it going?"
"It's-" I ponder my answer for a moment, double-checking that the door is closed as I sink into one of Amelia's adirondack chairs, "um, it's a good day today."
"Good, I'm glad. And I'm glad you've got Amelia to look after you. You've got a good one there. She really cares about you," Rossi says, and his words prompt me to turn and peer into the window at her sleeping form, curled up on the couch and holding the blanket to her chest. "Where-- uh-- where is she right now?"
"She's sleeping right now. I'm on the balcony," Honestly, this is already some of the most talking I've done in the last week and I'm exhausted. I'd rather be talking to Amelia, but Rossi called me for a reason, plus I know that Amelia needs to get some sleep. "Did you need something?"
"Yeah. I'm afraid I may need to bring your day down a bit," Rossi sighs, and my heart drops down to my feet. "I feel horrible calling you now, after everything you went through and while the BAU is on leave, but you need to know the situation."
I furrow my eyebrows, balling my free hand into a fist, digging my nails into my palm to give the pain somewhere to go. "What situation?"
"Damian Kelsey's signature popped up on two bodies in LA."
I didn't think that I would have to face a day where Damian Kelsey's signature reappears. I admit that I have stayed late at work many times just to look at Damian's case file and rememorize the details and try to predict what his next murder would have been all while ignoring the chilling family photos that contain my girlfriend as a horribly abused child.
And this is the worst possible time for this to happen. I can barely go a day without flashing back to prison or almost yelling at my amazing and patient girlfriend. How can I possibly tack on dealing with her serial killer father's signature resurfacing, all while trying to keep it a secret from her? It's nearly impossible. I thought that I could just take these stupid six weeks off to spend time with Amelia and try to rest comfortably, but I guess that's not possible.
"I'm heading to LA as we speak. I'm getting on a plane right now. And while we both know what his signature coming up again could mean, the good thing is that these are male victims and they're not surrogates for Amelia. I know that's what you're worried about. The other good thing is that this is across the country and obviously nowhere near Virginia. So--"
"Spencer?" Amelia's sweet voice comes from the balcony doors, the blanket disregarded on the couch and her hair messy on the top of her head.
"Gotta go," I mumble, hanging up my phone and tossing it aside, not even waiting to say goodbye to my coworker.
Amelia steps onto the balcony, her bare feet silent as she approaches me slowly, rubbing her eyes like a small child. "Everything okay?"
I reach my hands out for her and she smiles, placing her hands in mine and slowly sinking onto my lap, resting her head on my chest, similar to the position we had been in before. Amelia runs a hand over my chest and it takes everything in me not to let out a sound akin to a cat purring.
I just hold her tightly in my arms, probably the tightest I have since I saw her for the first time in the parking lot of my correctional facility. Rossi swears that Damian Kelsey won't come after Amelia but I just hold her tighter, as if that will protect her from the horrors of the world. I have a lot of holding to make up for from when I was gone, and I suppose that time starts now.
TAGLIST
@babybloodstonebones @bxnnywriting @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @4x24 @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere @shrimpyblog @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter @whxt-to-write @just-call-me-non @imagining-in-the-margins @boldlyvoid @homoose @gubler-me-up @thundergunexpresss @eideticmemory @andiebeaword
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
I LOVE your ideas for this modern Au. Does he live in his van all the time? Or is he the type who leaves on some days at night to go to a nice apartment or hotel room, where he takes a warm shower, does his 9-steps skincare routine and sleeps in a huge comfy bed before he leaves in the morning again to return to his van after a good hearty meal. I think you‘ve grown quite a bit as an artist, so I know already that seeing you redrawing him one day will be a highlight of mine. ❄️
He pretty much lives in his van or couch surfs wherever he can! Douma is known for breaking and entering, but only to people he knows can't call the cops, like Akaza. It's not uncommon for Akaza to wake up, roll over, and see Douma in bed staring right at him.
"8) You have such beautiful eyes, Akaza!"
"We're choosing violence today, again?"
~
And thank you so much!! 😭 Compliments like that keep me going!!
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
》만나다《
Supernatural creatures AU
Taglist (send an ask if you want to be added): @twancingyunhoe @vickylamore @glxwingstar @se0--0ho @seohospepe
Genre: angst!!, fluff, suggestive
Rating: 16+
General Warnings: Supernatural creatures (vampires, werewolves etc), blood, violence, weapons, language, death, poisoning and just dark themes in general.
Chapter Specific Warnings: mentions of a funeral and a mortuary,talking about death, blood and talking about internal bleeding, needles, refusing to eat (mentioned once), talking about cause and time of death (mentioned once), mentions of a lack of anatomical activity, lots of crying lol
Pairing: ONEUS x fem reader 》 choose your ending
Synopsis: somehow you came back to life just about a day after dying, scaring the poor guys who work at the mortuary one late night as you flee, not knowing where to go before they found you.
Word count: 3k [thanks to @moongaera for beta-reading <3]
–> for reference: Y/N - Your Name,, N/N - Nickname
》Previous《 》Next《 》Masterlist《
》><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><《
"Hyung, stop thinking about what could have been" Leedo interrupts the sorcerer's train of thoughts. "I know what you're thinking and it's not your fault. No one is mad at you for failing. You tried your best"
Seoho remains silent and Leedo sighs, the two of them making their way back to their residence.
"Oh you're ba- What happened?!" The owner of the house greets them first, almost losing it at the smell of blood and the way the two men's hands are covered in the now dark red/brown-ish substance.
"Seoho Hyung was asked to try and save someone, but turns out the poor girl got so heavily poisoned he was powerless" Leedo explains. "I'll explain to you in a bit, we're just gonna go and wash up"
The man just nods and watches the two of them walk away with pity swimming in his eyes. He knows how much it hurts his friend to not be able to help someone who so desperately needs it.
—
"Hwanseok.." your mother speaks and puts her hands on your father's shoulders. "We should… organize Y/N's funeral"
Yongjun hasn't come out of his room again after Haeryeong explained to him that you, his older sister he looked up to, has died.
Your father just nods, knowing he has to let go.
So about an hour later a van from the city's mortuary came and got your body. Your parents filled out all the papers regarding your burial and watched as the workers drove away.
—
Everything was pitch black and so… cold. But not the kind of cold that made you shiver, no, that type of cold that keeps you cool but at just the right temperature. It's hard to describe, yet you found comfort in it.
It's like you're dreaming of nothing but that nothing was still something.
And you felt heavy. So damn heavy that you can't move a muscle, it's like you're paralyzed.
The only thing that indicates you're still somehow awake were the distant voices. You couldn't differentiate them except for one deep voice.
After that, you kinda flaked out and now you were just confused. What was happening? and why couldn't you wake up or anything? Because it felt like an eternity.
—
"J-Junghwa please tell us you're pulling a sick prank on us right now" a close friend of yours says with a shaky voice.
"Yeah! No way- No way did that happen!" Hae-in also says, tears welling up in her eyes. "You were with her, what happened?!"
Junghwa rubs his face and looks at the three girls in front of him. "I'm telling the truth - I swear I am! I had to get the Necromancer but even his efforts were in vain. She died and her parents probably already had someone pick her up…"
Hae-in breaks out in tears, sobbing into her hands before Yura takes her into her arms, also silently crying.
"This feels so unreal" Hana says, trying hard to not break down as well.
"I know… I'll miss her so much" Junghwa says, eyes getting glassy. "I just… thought I'd let you guys know.."
Yura and Hana nod at him while Hae-in continues sobbing into Yura's shoulder.
Junghwa turns around and wipes his eyes, making his way back home.
—
"Seoho, how do you feel today?"
"Numb"
"You have to eat" He says, pushing the plate of toast towards him. "Woong is going to short-circuit when he realizes you are not eating the breakfast he prepared for you"
"But I don't feel like eating, Hyung" The sorcerer fights back, hands going up to hold onto his head. "I just failed a very influential and nice man! I couldn't save his daughter because I didn't see what poisoned her!"
The older one frowns and sits down next to his friend, taking his hands and looking him in the eye. "Listen Seoho, this is not your fault. Everyone makes mistakes and it does not help you one bit if you dwell on them. Instead, take them as a lesson for what you can do better next time. There is always a chance for you to prove yourself and this was not the last one, okay?"
The sorcerer feels tears building up in his eyes at his Hyung's words and nods quietly, afraid his voice will break if he speaks.
The older one gently guides Seoho's head to his shoulder and lets him cry it out. He understands the pain his younger friend feels almost too well.
The younger one of the two quickly composes himself and wipes away his tears. "Thank you H-Hyung"
Said man just smiles gently and pats his shoulder. "It's okay"
"Seo-ie Hyung~ did you eat your food?"
"Ah shit, here we go…"
—
You could feel your senses coming back to you one by one, hearing being the first.
"Cause of death?"
"Spirit-Iron and Vampire-Root poisoning and rapid internal bleeding"
"Time and date of death?"
"4:37pm, January 25th 2920"
"Name and age?"
"L/N Y/N, 23"
"Species?"
"W-"
The two men got interrupted by a loud banging noise.
"Ah shit, what did the intern do this time again"
"We should check it out, it's not like she's going anywhere"
"You're right, let's go"
That's when you opened your eyes, sterile white light shining down on you as you sat up.
To your surprise you were still in your clothes which were soaked in blood, but luckily not sticking to you anymore. You sat up and your feet met the ground.
You tiptoe around the examination table and towards the door, carefully peeking around before navigating your way through the building with the help of signs hung up.
"HOLY FUCK!!" you hear one of the two men scream. "THE CORPSE IS GONE! WHAT THE FUCK!!"
You were surprised you weren't panicking, but that was a problem for later as you sprinted outside and into the forest which was near the mortuary, not paying attention to your surroundings.
—
"What?" Your father's voice sounded through the living room and your Mother peered up. "What do you mean 'her corpse is gone'???"
Haeryeong could feel the feeling of dread creep up inside of her as she listened to what Hwanseok was saying.
"Oh god" he mumbles. "N-No I don't think you should try and find her body- I'll take care of it. Yeah goodbye"
"What the hell happened?" Haeryeong asks, eyes wide.
"The mortuary called and said Y/N's body is gone" Hwanseok explains, "this must be some sick joke"
"Do you think the Necromancer has something to do with it?"
"As much as I want to believe he's not at fault, he's the only one who's capable of such thing"
"What do you plan to do, Hwanseok?" Haeryeong asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry.
"I'm going to pay him a little visit tomorrow"
—
You finally stopped running when you felt like you were far enough into the woods, sitting down against a tree.
That's when you started noticing the details.
No breathing, no racing heartbeat or pulse, no sense of fear or threat.
What the hell was going on? Weren't you just on your way home from that frat party with Junghwa? Your drink tasted weird and everything was spinning until it just went black.
Did someone put a weird potion into your drink?
You don't know for how long you've been sitting there, but it somehow felt like an eternity and it dawned on you that you were most probably dead.
The lack of a heartbeat and breathing was worrying and so fucking confusing, if your body would still be able to you would've totally panicked. Yet here you were, sitting totally calm against the bark of a tree, trying to grasp the situation.
It was just so illogical how your brain is still working but your heart doesn't beat. It defies all the knowledge of the body's anatomy and it drives you wild.
Slowly getting up again you try and see where you can go, but everything is just so dark and you can't see past the thick trees and small rays of light the moon provides, but you heard what felt like every little noise.
And then the crunching of leaves and twigs snapping got your attention, head whipping around to look towards where the noise was coming from.
You were on high alert as you kept your eyes on the spot.
"Are you lost?" A male voice asks you, but you remain silent and press yourself against the tree. "Hey don't be scared"
You hold your tongue at the snarky reply that was about to slip out when the man steps forward onto a spot illuminated by the moonlight.
"Who are you?" You ask, getting ready to defend yourself.
"I-" the guy stumbles over his words, probably not having expected this question, "I'm Seoho, the Necromancer"
That's when you notice the black outline of the Spellmark around his left eye, a stark contrast to his light skin.
You take a tentative step forward, more into the moonlight and you see the man's eyes widen. "No- No this can't be real"
Furrowing your brows and tilting your head you ask him, "what can't be real? Do I know you?"
He sinks to his knees in what looks like shock and you go closer, squatting down in front of him. "Hey what's wrong?"
Seoho looks almost mortified as his eyes meet yours. "I-I watched you die just a few hours ago! There w-was so much blood!"
A confused pout forms on your lips as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "That explains a lot…" You mumble, "I woke up in this mortuary and ran into the forest without knowing where to go"
Your little explanation seems to have stirred something in the guy as a sob wrecks his body and you don't know what to do with yourself right then and there. "Hey- please don't cry!"
He laughs dryly and wipes his eyes. "I'm sorry this is just- overwhelming"
"But aren't you used to seeing dead people come back to life?" You ask.
To your surprise Seoho shakes his head. "That's what everyone thinks, you know?" He sniffs a little and regains his composure. "But I have only ever revived one person"
"Oh"
"Yeah so… it's kind of new to me" He says, "and I actually didn't revive you, Y/N"
"What? Hold up- what?" You're taken aback by his statement and look into his eyes, disregarding the fact that he knows your name. "What do you mean? Are you saying I came back to life by myself??"
He runs a hand through his black hair, exposing his forehead briefly before answering you. "It looks like you did, yeah. I don't know how that's possible but-"
"Hyung, where did you run off to?!" Someone yells from a distance away and you see the man tense.
"You should go back to your friend, I'm sure he's worried" you suggest and stand up. "I think I'll go back home-"
"No!" Seoho frantically exclaims and you give him a surprised look. "I mean- don't go home! I should check up on you first!"
Playing with your fingers, you think about it for a second before the new voice calls out again.
"Seo-ie Hyung~" he chimes. "Where are you~"
The sorcerer gives you a pleading look as he also rises back onto his feet, his taller figure slightly towering over you.
"Fine" you give in and a smile breaks out on his face, a cute eye smile hiding his eyes in a crescent moon shape.
"Hyungie I found you!" The voice exclaims from behind Seoho and quick footsteps approach you two as the guy jumps onto the older one's back. "Ohhh who's that?"
The guy is shorter than Seoho and his hair a bright pink, his eyes flashing yellow for a second as he curiously blinks at you.
"Uh.. hi?" You awkwardly greet and wave your hand at him.
He hops down from Seoho's back and approaches you, circling around your figure. "How would you never want to die?"
The question catches you off guard and you furrow your brows while watching his movements. "I guess being burnt alive sounds pretty gruesome"
He starts laughing hysterically only to stop after a few seconds. "I see~" he says and stands in front of you, holding out his hand for you to shake while Seoho watches you two closely. "I'm Hwanwoong! What about you?"
You take his hand cautiously and shake it, his strong grip startling you slightly, not having expected someone of his size to be so strong. But then again; never judge a book by its cover. "I'm Y/N"
"Your hand is awfully cold, N/N-ie" He comments. "Are you sick?"
"Uhm-"
"Woongie, that's enough" Seoho finally steps in, "we should head back, yeah?"
Hwanwoong releases his grip on your hand and nods with a big smile. "Should I hurry back first and tell Grumpy Hyung about your guest?"
You hold back a laugh at what he called his older friend.
"Yeah, do that" Seoho nods and cracks a smile. "But don't call him Grumpy, you know he hates that"
"That's why he is grumpy hyung! But okay, I'm going~" Hwanwoong giggles like a child and starts running away.
"I'm sorry for this… weird encounter" The sorcerer turns to you with a sheepish smile. "You know how shapeshifters are"
"It's fine don't worry" you wave it off, "he's actually quite alright"
Seoho snorts at what you said and clears his throat. "Just wait until he has a fit… then he's not so alright anymore"
"Wh-"
"We should go now"
You bite back the question you were going to ask and opt for just nodding as you follow beside him, navigating through the woods.
—
"Are we there soon? It feels like we've been walking for days" You complain and Seoho chuckles.
"Don't worry we'll be there in 2 more minutes, Y/N"
Then you suddenly realized that he knew your name before you even told him or his friend.
"Wait.. you knew my name before"
"Did you forget what I said? About watching you die under my hands?"
"No.."
"Your father had someone get me"
You remain silent, since it made perfect sense now.
Seoho leads the way through a particular dark part of the forest before a giant building comes into view.
"That's it" He says and looks at you.
"Woah" You comment in astonishment and meet his gaze. "This is where you live?"
The sorcerer gives you a proud smile and nods. "Yup. I live here with five other friends. They're my family"
A soft smile also reaches your face.
"Ohh Seo-ie Hyung is back!" Hwanwoong's voice is loud as he practically yells that.
Both Seoho and you turn your gazes to the front door, Hwanwoong's bright pink hair standing out against the dark interior, a taller man in a red suit standing next to him.
Seoho takes a hold of your wrist and drags you towards them. "Hey Hyung" he greets the taller one. "Did Woongie tell you?"
"Yeah" the guy nods, his attention then on you. "May I ask for your name?"
He speaks very… formal, detached even, you notice. "I'm L/N Y/N"
The man gives you a tight smile. "You can call me Ravn for now. Nice to make your acquaintance"
"Ah, me too" you awkwardly bow a bit, making a chuckle erupt from the tall guy.
"Let's head inside" Seoho speaks up again and enters with you first up, practically shoving you inside before the other two follow close behind.
He shows you into a hospital-like room and makes you sit down on one of the four beds. "I'll be right back okay? I just need to get my assistant"
"Alright" you nod and watch him leave, closing the door behind him so you decide on just looking around the room.
It looks pretty sterile, IV-Bags next to every bed but without fluid, monitors of all kinds and also a sink next to the door. It looks like they took lots of instruments from a hospital room.
You don't remember where you heard it, but you're pretty sure someone once told you that the Necromancer's healing abilities were pretty weak, so he had to rely a lot on potions and normal things like they are in here.
Just when you finished your thought, the door opened again.
"No way" a green haired man says and looks at you, calmly sitting on the bed while Seoho closes the door behind them. "You- How?"
"I told you, I don't know. That's why I got you to help me check her up"
The two guys go and grab some stuff from around the room and put it on the table next to the bed you're sitting on.
"Hey uhm" you speak up, "I heard you're not that good with healing stuff"
A pang of hurt flashes across his face for a second after your comment.
"Ah! I'm not making fun of you! It's just that-" with frantic hand motions you try to explain yourself, "I'm one of the best healers in this land so maybe I could help you out..?"
The hurt in his face immediately gets replaced with relief and he exchanges glances with his companion. "I mean, I don't see why not" Seoho bashfully smiles at you. "It would mean a lot to me"
You smile back at him. "Okay we can talk about that later, right? What kind of stuff do you need to check?"
"Well first of all we need to check your blood" the green haired guy starts explaining, "then we need to check your vitals and brain activity and lastly abilities"
"No physical tests or anything?" You ask and raise a brow.
"What Leedo forgot to say" Seoho now answers, "is that yes, we will do physical tests, but they come after the stuff he listed"
"Ohh I see" you nod in understanding.
Seoho goes to grab a syringe and you watch him closely. "I hope you're not afraid of needles"
"Actually I am" you reply, bending back a bit to get away from the instrument. "I've always hated them"
A frown pulls on the sorcerer's lips. "I'm sorry. We do need a bit of your blood though…"
You fight yourself for a few seconds before giving in. "Please make it quick" and the man nods, patting your knee briefly.
#yuki writes#kwritersworldnet#oneuswewriters#oneus#oneus angst#tw funeral#tw mortuary#tw blood#tw needles#tw ed mention#내꺼 하자#yeongwvnhi.txt
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
- Inside Giorno's mind -
Angel Giorno: Ah. It's so nice to just gather at Libecco's and just relax, isn't it? I mean, when was the last time we got to gather like this?
Devil Giorno: You could say that again! *reclines back* Today's a day where we don't have any or all worries about... *looks at screen* Oh no.
Angel Giorno: What is it?
Devil Giorno: Those two are here! "Mom" and "Stepdad".
Angel Giorno: *pales* Oh no! Oh dear! This is bad!
Devil Giorno: What do we do? What do we do?!
Angel Giorno: Er...Ah...Um...Duck under the table!
Devil Giorno: No! We're not five! I say we choose violence!
Angel Giorno: No! We have to be diplomatic!
Haruno: Hm? Who is here?
Angel Giorno and Devil Giorno: *sweating* Ah, well...
- Outside -
Giorno: *paling visibly*
Bri: *looks at Giorno* Ah, GioGio. Are you okay?
Giorno: Oh! Yeah... I'm... *faints*
- Inside Giorno's mind -
Haruno: Why'd you make us faint?
Angel Giorno and Devil Giorno: We panicked...
Ooof, the awful duo are back 😔
Bri: oh my gosh Giogio!
Bruno: Giorno? Oh no, perhaps we should go home, he gets this way when he's over worked himself.
Bri: he was so excited about this though ...
Mista: it's okay, next time... *lifts Giornos arm over his shoulders to support him*
*All leave the restaurant unnoticed *
*At the villa*
Bri: *brushing back his hair* it's okay... you'll always be safe here...
-inside Giornos mind-
Angel Giorno: alright guys , it's safe to wake him up now... I'm sure everyone is worried, look, Bri is about to cry...
Devil Giorno :...
Haruno:...
Angel Giorno: I get it with Haruno, he's just a baby... but you? Shameful
Devil Giorno: these headpats feel better today okay?
Awww I hope you're still well my sweet, please be safe, and as always Tysmm 💗💖💕❤💜💓💗💖💕 🥰🤲🥺
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-One
Table of Content or Part Fifty
Wattpad
Word count: 4.6K
Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse, minor sexual situations, violence
Tag List: @unknownoblivion @sinningsixx @edwardtriggerhandzz @lemmyjelly @haileynicoleseavey17 @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @vamprlestat @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @fandomshit6000 @lilmou5ie @tamedhearts @divaanya @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @thanks2pete @abaldboi @swoopygorl @justjodeye @liith-ium @caos18blog @ytwahsog @shamlessobsessions @scarecrowmax @toadspleen @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @loveofmyloif @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @xpoisonousrosesx @cruecifymesixx @ijustwanttokiss70srogertaylor @emmaelizabeth2014 @meetthesixxter @sixxsixxsexx @sublimeprincesswasteland @arianareirg @girlnight-terror @mcnibberachi
@fancywasmyname1 @teller258316 @ggorehorror @blowinmeupwithherlove @xrosegoldwolfx @mylifeisjustafeverdream @redlipscrystalskies14
LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED
My stomach aches with laughter as Duff delivers his punchline of his joke, my hands coming up to cover my mouth as I try to chew my fried mozzarella stick and he takes a sip of his beer, laughing as I snort, which only causes me to laugh even harder, until the both of us are laughing possibly the ugliest anyone has ever laughed, and I'm discarding my food into a napkin because I'm laughing too hard to try to chew it.
My eyes are watering, and thin tears roll down my cheeks.
We finally calm down, seeing people glaring at us for being so loud, but we ignore them.
"That was pretty good." I give him credit where credit is due, shifting in my seat a little and taking in a sharp breath as my sore thigh takes notice of the movement.
"Are you okay?" He asks me and I nod.
"It's still sore." I tell him, trying not to take notice of the expression on his face that flashes for a split second.
Nobody could understand why the hell I went right back home when I got out of the hospital like Nikki hadn't put my life in serious danger.
It wasn't like Nikki had intentionally shot at me. He didnt know what the hell I was and just kicked into to survival mode.
I didn't see the big deal in staying with him.
Tommy, Vince and Mick didn't even know what really happened. Doc had told them the same thing he told me to tell the press: I dropped Nikki's gun on accident, while trying to move it, and it went off and caught me.
He didn't want them to know the truth because they were working on the new album, and he didn't want to "create conflict" within the group.
So the only people that knew the truth aside from Fred, Doc and Nikki, was Duff, Slash, Steven, Izzy and Axl.
It wasn't long after that, that Axl informed me he wrote "You're Crazy" about me as a joke, but realized he was pretty right to write it because, in his words, "you staying with the crackhead heroin junkie that already treats you like shit, then fucking shot you, just solidifies my theory that you're actually, medically, out of your mind, and your insanity isn't just 'to be determined' anymore" and I asked him if he "wanted to be the pot or the kettle?"
The irony of him--out of all people--calling anybody else "crazy" was beyond me.
Thirty-two years later and he still dedicates the song to me every time they play it live.
After we're done eating our Sunday lunch, we pay and head to my car, slowly, because I'm limping and Duff's walking slow so he doesn't leave me.
"So, I kinda did something for your late birthday present." He informs me out of nowhere and I raise my brows.
"What do you mean?" I ask, fumbling to get my keys from my purse, shielding my eyes from the harsh sun in my face as we head to the parking lot.
"Mandy and I broke up." He states and I raise my brows.
"...You broke up with your girlfriend as my birthday present?" I'm confused and he chuckles it off.
"No!" He nervously rubs at the back of his neck. "She broke up with me, actually, but that's not what your present is."
"She broke up with you? Are you okay?" I ask.
"It's a girl, Viv. There's plenty more decent girls to choose from when I'm ready to be in a relationship again." He shrugs.
"Did she tell you why she was breaking things off?" I question.
"Just needed space or time or something like that, I don't know. I was kinda drunk when she called to tell me."
"She broke up with you over a phone call?" I raise my voice, my nostrils flaring.
"Viv, chill out." He let's out with a laugh, nudging me with his arm. "You haven't let me explain the good part of this."
"Well then explain." I clear my throat and he rubs his lips together.
"I talked to Nikki last night 'cause he and Tommy came around to hangout with us for a little while." He explains.
"Mhm?"
"I mentioned the fact that you were kinda getting back into dancing and he said he'd been meaning to ask me about it because you'd told him about Mandy letting you use their rehearsal space to dance."
"She didn't even know I was using it, you just sneak me in whenever she's not there. Well, at least, you did. I'm assuming she got the key back from you."
"You're not letting me finish." He points out and I roll my eyes and sigh.
"Okay. I'm listening."
"Nikki and I conspired together, and I'm buying the place from Mandy, and Nikki is going to pay for any renovations and cleaning up it probably definitely needs."
I stop walking, my face falling, unable to say anything.
"So...happy birthday?" He cautiously finishes, not able to gauge how I'm gonna react.
I just start crying.
"I-I'm sorry, if you didn't want that we can--"
"--I'm not crying because I'm upset, I'm crying because I'm happy." I tell him, wiping my running mascara.
"Viv." He smiles a little, and I hug him to me, my arms around him tightly as I squeeze my eyes closed.
"Thank you." I mumble to him and he kisses at my hair for a second.
"Happy birthday."
I knew on Nikki's part it was an attempt to apologize without actually saying "I'm sorry for shooting you" because if he said "I'm sorry" it would mean admitting he was wrong and I was right about his drug use.
And Vivian could never be right about anyone over-doing it with their bad habits.
I shut the front door, slipping my kitten heels off by the door before I calmly step through the house to get to our bedroom so I can change from my church dress.
Nikki's passed out in our bed. I've gotten to where I have to wake him up and get him to bed or just sleep next to him in the closet.
I accidentally rolled over and stabbed myself with one of his used needles a few nights ago so I've been praying he's been using clean needles and isn't going to transfer anything weird to me.
I change clothes and get into our bed, watching him sleep, at least I think he's asleep.
"How was church?" He asks me, keeping his liner smudged eyes shut and I run the tip of my finger over his bare chest.
"It was good." I reply. "It ran late again today." I lie, not wanting him to find out about Duff and I eating lunch again.
"Oh." He yawns, turning over to face me and I get a little closer to him, hooking my leg around his hip and he grins softly, resting his hand on the curve of my back.
"So, Zutaut called again." I tell him and he sighs out.
"Nope." He sits up and I untangle from him, rolling my eyes as I follow him into the bathroom.
"You didn't even let me finish." I argue, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorway as he puts the toilet seat up to pee.
"I don't need to let you finish. This is the second time he's called in the three days and you told me the first time he called he was wondering if I'd be up to produce your friends' album."
"I love how they're strictly just my friends as soon they inconvenience you. Which I don't even consider this an inconvenience."
"Then what is it, Viv?" He flushes the toilet and steps to the shower to turn it on.
"An opportunity to actually listen to our--'our' meaning 'your's, too'--friends' music. And help them get it put down on an album that actually stays true to their sound instead of trying to add all the extra bull crap that everyone else that's wanted to produce them, has done." I state as he gets his clothes off and gets into the shower.
"What's in it for me?" He asks over the sound of the water.
"Um, the satisfaction of helping a hungry band reach their dreams and share their music? Also helping them get money because once the kids see the album is produced by Nikki Sixx they're gonna buy it because they trust your opinion on good rock music?" I suggest hopefully.
"I want blowjobs." He cuts through the sentimental atmosphere I created in my mind surrounding friendship and dedication, and I glare at the shower as my face drops from it's smile into an unamused expression. "Like, on-command blowjobs. Anytime, anywhere."
"You want me to drop to my knees the second you snap your fingers? Ha!" I scoff.
"Then I'm not even gonna consider producing them."
"Oh my goodness gracious, fine!" I give up, letting out a heavy sigh. "For how long?"
"Um, until I come?"
"No, I mean over what duration of time do I have to sacrifice the wellbeing of my jaw for your disgusting and degrading satisfaction?"
"Until you get arthritic to the point of not being able to get down that low without throwing a joint out of place." He says and I raise a brow, yanking the shower open.
"I am not gonna be in my fifties getting on my knees every time you want some head." I state and he laughs.
"If I have to give you on-command BJs, you have to go down on me on-command."
"You don't even have to tell me to eat you out, I'll gladly do it without the say-so." He says as he shapes his lathered hair straight up with his hands and I have to keep myself from laughing at his childishness. "And can you close that, It's kinda nippley out there." He motions outside of the shower and I shake my head a little before pinning my hair off of my shoulders with a hair clip on our counter and start pulling my clothes off.
I get in with him and he smirks.
"Am I in trouble?" He asks and I raise my brows before reaching my hands up to squish down on his hair that he's got perfectly sculpted upward with shampoo. "No, Viv!" He tries to protect it, laughing loudly.
Tom Zutaut had pressed at me to convince Nikki to at least consider producing "Appetite for Destruction."
Everyone that was interested in Guns N' Roses wanted to alter their music or add unnecessary elements to their signature raw sound. He knew Nikki advocated for people not compromising on what they want, especially with their music, and knew he would never try to produce the album the way he wanted it, but the way the band wanted it.
The only problem there was in the plan...
I roll my eyes as Nikki takes a bump of coke to try to pull himself out of his heroin induced stupor as I fall back in the seat across from him in the limousine, wiping my smudged lipstick from around my mouth, panting, hot and bothered because he started something and couldn't get his prick up to finish it.
Oh, the joys of body function inhibiting drugs.
"Okay, c'mon." He says as he takes a deep breath.
I get back on him to straddle his lap, my hands pulling my dress up my hips and pushing my panties aside while he rubs at himself.
It doesn't seem like he's getting any harder, and the mood is ruined.
"Babe, it's okay." I sigh out, calmly, although I'm frustrated.
"Fuck." He curses, just as irritated, his boot harshly kicking the edge of the seats across from us, his fingers grasping at his hair.
I fix my panties back and move off of him, smoothing my dress back down as he tucks himself back into his pants and laces them back up.
"I'm sorry, Viv." He turns his head to the side to look at me while he's leaning his head back.
"It's fine." I assure him. "Not like I need to be putting that much pressure on my thigh anyway." I add and the atmosphere in the car immediately tenses up.
He doesn't reply, putting his shades on to prepare for the flashing cameras bound to find us.
He despises the press.
I don't blame him.
Once we get stopped, Nikki's opening the door, tightly grasping at my hand.
"Nikki! Nikki!" They all seem to be shouting, followed by questions such as, "you guys working on the album?", "what are some songs we can expect on the new album?", "when are you releasing a new record?", "is it true you went to rehab for heroin?", "are you still on drugs?"
"Vivian, there's pregnancy rumors, do you know who, in the band, is the father?" Someone shouts and I ignore them, keeping my head down and my eyes closed, letting Nikki cut through the reporters and get us into the venue to meet Tom and let Nikki experience his first official Guns N' Roses show.
...Nikki hated it.
He was ready to leave only two songs in and showed absolutely no interest in spending his time producing them.
He wouldn't even really pin point what exactly he didn't like about their music or their playing, he just didn't like it.
He admits now that he was so fucked up that night, in particular, that he wouldn't have known what was good music if it hit him in the face.
I figured that might have been the case since he was the first one to put in for Guns N' Roses to join Mötley Crüe on the "Girls, Girls, Girls" tour and advocate for their music.
His mood swings gave me whiplash.
"What do you think so far?" Tom asks Nikki as Nikki takes a sip of his drink.
"I don't see the fuss." He states, and Tom and I exchange looks, confused.
"W-What?" I ask, furrowing my brows. "Are you kidding me?"
"Did I stutter?"
"W--C'mon, Nikki, you haven't even heard some of their other stuff. These kids have the potential to be extraordinary, they're almost there. You can't just write them off like this."
"I'm not writing anybody off. They're my friends and I dig their enthusiasm but I can barely find the time to work on our own album, let alone produce someone else's and they're not striking me enough to make me want to sacrifice more of my time to produce them."
"Baby, if you would just give them a chan--"
"--Viv, I said 'no'." He sternly scolds me and tears swell up in my eyes because I could have sworn Nikki would have really liked their music.
"I'll be right back." I tell them, stepping to the bathroom to dry my tears.
At the time I thought Nikki was just being an asshole.
He didn't tell me he didn't want to produce them because he wouldn't have done the kind of job they deserved for their talent on their debut album.
He wanted to do right by them, and that meant staying as far away from their music as possible.
He didn't tell anyone that because that would have been him admitting he had a problem.
"Lose the nasty attitude, Vivian." Nikki orders as I stomp into our house while he shuts the front door behind him, locking it.
"Why? You gonna toss me aside, too?" I hiss, taking my jacket off and throwing my purse onto the coffee table, crossing my arms.
"Will you just drop it? It's not like there aren't thousands of producers that would love to help them out." He takes his jacket off, tossing it to the couch.
"What is wrong with their music? Is it their sound, their personality, their--"
"--Vivian, I said 'drop it'!" He barks.
"I have every right to be angry, Nikki! You clearly might not give a fuck about them but they are my friends--who I know good and damn well have immense talent and there's even some of it that's yet to be untapped--and I just wanted you to give them an actual shot at achieving the thing all of them have worked their asses off for and dreamed about since they were kids!" I throw my hands up.
"I'm done talking about this." He states, stepping to our bedroom.
"I'm not!" I take my heel off and throw it as hard as I can at his head.
It hits the back of his hair and he stops in his tracks.
"Tom said it himself, and you heard him: Guns N' Roses will be the biggest rock n roll band in the world if they just get someone behind them that can guide them to where they need to be!" I ball my fists up at my sides, digging my nails into my palms.
Nikki just slowly turns to face me, his eyes wild, his breathing labored, and a out of line theory sprouts in my mind, but the way he's been acting lately it won't surprise me if it's true.
"Is that why you won't help them?" I ask him, cutting my eyes. "Because they're possibly going to dethrone Mötley Crüe?"
The fact that I'm insinuating he gives a fuck about bullshit "competition", especially in regards to his friends, just infuriates him more. I see it in his eyes.
He just turns back around and goes to our bedroom, slamming the door shut.
I roll my jaw, my eyes drifting to the beautiful display of his gold and platinum records on the wall beside the hallway that leads to guest bedrooms.
My skin of my knuckles is splitting open when my fist collides with the glass of the "Shout at the Devil" Gold award.
Platinum's next.
Just before I'm going for "Too Fast for Love", Nikki's screaming from our bedroom doorway, Jack Daniel's in hand.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" He shouts and I just shoot him a glare before taking the "Too Fast for Love" plaque off the wall. "Put the fucking plaque down Vivian." Nikki orders, stepping closer to me.
"Produce their album." I demand, acting as if I'm going to drop it.
"Put. It. Down. Vivian."
"Or what? You'll shoot me again?" I taunt him and he grinds his teeth. "Produce their album." I repeat.
"Go to hell, crazy bitch." He snaps.
"You go first!" I holler back, hurling the award at the wall and it crashes into another plaque and they both shatter to pieces.
I turn around just in time to see Nikki pouring Jack all over my Bible that he'd plucked from the coffee table, just before pulling his lighter out.
"Stop!" I shriek, rushing to him.
I'm too late, though, and he's lighting it up and throwing it into the empty fire place just as I make it to him.
A God-awful feeling of dread fills me as Sikki looks very proud of himself.
I can't even look at him right now.
Walking to the kitchen to wash my bleeding hand off and get it wrapped up, I start to think a mile a minute.
My heart clenches in my chest as tears line my lashes.
How predictable of Nikki Sixx to burn a fucking Bible just to piss off a christian who's had said Bible since childhood...but it somehow shocks me that he'd do it to me, I guess.
I glance down at my wedding ring.
I've noticed it feels more and more like a weight with every argument he and I have.
Our entire relationship was just an open body of water that, that freaking ring was dragging me deeper and deeper in to.
The pressure was starting to get painful and I needed air.
My finger tips tug at my wedding ring and I leave it on the kitchen counter before I'm walking to our bedroom-- while he's still in the living room-- locking the door and heading to the closet, quickly gathering every lick of heroin, coke, and pills before going to our bathroom and flushing all of it, all the while Nikki's banging his fist against our bedroom door.
I hear a loud crash, and realize he kicked the door in.
"Vivian!" He screams as I'm giving the final flush to the last bindle, opening the bathroom door.
He's pushing me aside rather roughly and stomping to the toilet as the sound of the tank refilling with water let's him know what I've been doing.
"What did you do?!" He seethes at me, finger in my face, eyes shot, five o'clock shadow framing his gritted teeth.
And I just turn around with the intention of getting my shoes back on and leaving.
His hand is catching in my hair and yanking me back to him.
"Nikki, fuck off!"
"Don't fucking walk away from me!" He yells.
"I should have walked away from you six years ago!" I exclaim, tears of anger rolling down my cheeks.
This gets his attention because he's letting me go, an obvious expression of hurt on his face.
"I should have never slept with you. I should have never dated you. I should have never told you I'd marry you and I never should have taken vows to love and honor and protect someone who can't even get off of drugs long enough to love and honor and protect me." I sniffle and he blinks at me slowly as if holding back on his emotions.
"Then walk the fuck away." He hisses at me, rolling his jaw.
I left.
Nikki called Vanity.
And I went to find Duff.
I shut my car door before making my way into the Seventh Veil, running a hand through my hair as music blares through the speakers.
I glance around, hoping they're here because I've been up and down the strip and they've been nowhere to be found.
My prayers are answered when I look to see the massive fluff of blonde hair and I walk over to the table where Duff, Izzy, Steven, and Slash are, yanking a chair from a neighboring table and sitting with them.
They give me weird looks, Steven glancing around to check for Nikki or any of the other guys, before exchanging looks with Duff and Slash while Izzy seems unphased, his eyes on the same thing mine are on: the dancer on stage.
"Um...Viv?" Steven asks me cautiously and I side eye him.
"Yeah." I mumble.
"Uh, a-are you here alone?" He asks.
"Yep."
"Do you like strippers or something?" Slash asks me next.
"Nope."
"Did Nikki piss you off?" Duff's next.
"Yep."
"Is your hand alright?" Steven motion's to my hand that's got a scabbed over, bloody cut over the top of it.
"Shh, guys, she has to keep a clear mind so she can properly construct her plan to ask the dancers if they've accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior." Izzy sarcastically puts in and I cut my eyes at him as he takes another drag of his cigarette.
"Talk all your shit, Stradlin. Just gives me more motivation to curate ideas to make your life harder."
"Your existence in itself makes my life harder." He scoffs.
"Good that means I'm fulfilling one of the purposes God gave me for my life."
"Is your other purpose getting your husband so heated he throws you out of the house?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." I pretend to feel sorry, poking my lip out a little. "I forget I can't be upset with Nikki around you because you get bothered at the thought of anyone being upset with your gothic, heroin hounding, drug buddy because you're kindred spirits that have bonded over being tortured artists."
"Oh, go read your Bible." He tells me.
"Can't. Nikki set it on fire." I shoot back and Duff chokes on his drink.
"He what?" Duff asks me, like he's trying to contain a little anger over it.
"So we can expect the Sixxes to get a divorce?" Izzy asks me, clearly joking, and I shake my head.
"No, he's just being a junked-out prick." I mumble, crossing my arms.
"Do you wanna get your anger out by aggressively throwing our money?" Steven asks and I blink.
"I'll go politely put the money on the edge of the stage." I say and Duff finishes his drink, setting the glass face down.
"Alright, let's get outta here." He tells me with a sigh, standing up. "We'll see you guys later."
"Alright, man." Izzy nods. "Viv." He adds.
"Izzy." I reply.
"Bye, Viv." Steven and Slash both say and I smile a little.
"Bye, guys."
I follow Duff out of the club, and he nearly trips coming out, causing me to grab at his hand and arm to try to help him keep balanced, and a few flashes go off, signaling paparazzi and I audibly groan as they move in.
My hand shields my eyes as my other hand holds tightly to Duff's arm as asinine questions are thrown at me but I ignore them.
The bastards got a good enough shot at just the right second--with me holding onto Duff with both of my hands, the two of us sharing wide smiles because we were laughing over him nearly tripping to the ground--that it definitely came across as "a picture's worth a thousand words" but the only words told by that picture was that we were a little more than friends...and that's what the headline spun it up as by the time it landed in Nikki's hands.
The argument it led to sparked the birth of "You're All I Need", delivered by the vocals of Vince, from the demented mind of Sikki Nixx himself.
"Where'd you park?" Duff asks me in my ear over the sound of photography and strangers talking at us, and I tug him into direction of my car that's parked down the street against the curb.
"Welp that's something I'm gonna get to explain to Nikki." I state as soon as we get into my car.
"He knows nothing's happening." He replies, laughing it off.
"Yeah, right." I say under my breath, as I start heading down the road. "Where to?" I ask, stopping at a stop light.
"Oh, I don't know I was just trying to keep you from swinging on Izzy." He admits with a chuckle and I shake my head a little.
"I'd never hit Izzy. Axl, definitely, Izzy, no. He's my favorite."
"Izzy's your favorite? How'd that happen? You two are, like, polar opposites." He asks me with an amused smile.
"He agrees that Sid probably killed Nancy." I inform him and he throws his head back and let's out a frustrated, but humorous, groan.
After finally deciding to just get milk-shakes, we sit in a corner booth of Denny's and once we get out orders, Duff's clearing his throat.
"So, I saw you guys at the show earlier."
He tells me and I raise my brows, sipping at my strawberry milkshake. "You didn't tell us you were coming, we could've told them to take you guys backstage."
"We weren't able to stay very long afterwards...Nikki just wanted to see you guys play together live." I explain.
"Oh." He nods, before asking the dreaded question: "what did he think?"
"He digs you guys." I lie, giving a little smile.
The guys never knew Nikki was approached to produce the album, each of them found out later.
I think they're secretly glad he never touched "Appetite for Destruction."
That album would have been an absolute train wreck under his junkie guidance, just like everything else that Nikki seemed to be apart of in 1987.
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 99) "Shows in Different Country Codes"
@creatureofthen1ght-v3 @crystalbaby12 @mgkobsessed @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @5sosfam1dlover
Waiting for the Xanax to kick in that Luna had given him in their uber, Colson's leaned back into his seat. A thousand thoughts swirling through his head as he stares out the airplane's window.
"FUCK... I hate leaving them...." He sighs at the thought of Casie and Luna. "I wonder if she got in touch with that planner Emma gave her..." His mind drifting to their weddings. Being more nervous for EstFest, there's a lot to do just festival wise. "I'm glad no one gave me shit about adding the extra day..." He thinks of the vendors. Sighing again, his mind wanders to a place it tries to never go. "Maybe I should call my dad.... He should probably meet Luna...." His heart worries as the Xanax helps his eyes close.
--------------------------------------------------
Luna lands in Mexico City around 5A. She wanders around the gift shop for a moment, buying a new shirt before making her way outside. It's pouring, so she pulls her Yankees hat on backwards before she hops into a taxi.
Once checked in at The Four Seasons, Luna doesn't know what to do with herself. Ashley's sharing a room with Dom, leaving Luna alone. Lighting a joint, she tries on the shirt she bought. Heading into the bathroom, she stands on top of the toilet to Snap Colson.
Finally crawling into bed, Luna flicks on the TV as she lights another joint. Drifting off to the sounds of Parks and Rec once she's put it out.
-------------------------------------------------
The Bus is parked in the back of the venue, Colson's playing The Knitting Factory tonight. In the back of a cab, he catches the Snap from Luna. Laughing out loud at her once he opens it.
"She's so fucking adorable..." His heart aches for her as he pays for and climbs out of his ride.
Opening the door to their bedroom on The Bus, Colson isn't shocked to find Baze and Sam. He's definitely not pleased though.
"Yo. Wake the fuck up and get outta my bed." He states, kicking the bottom of Baze's foot.
Both of them wake with a bit of a startle. Looking at each other, slightly embarrassed. They like to think they're on The Low but everyone knows about them. Silly Wabbits.
"FUCK man... I didn't think you'd be back till later..." Baze says groggily as he collects himself.
"Clearly, Truck." Colson rolls his eyes with a chuckle as he turns around so they can dress.
Not one to cock block but desperately wanting to lay down, he really doesn't care. He knows Luna will though. As they begin to leave his room, Colson calls out a Yo. They both turn but he talks directly to Sam.
"You know she's a cunt.... I'd get these sheets washed before she gets back." He says with a light warning.
Tired, Sam stares at Colson. She hates that he knows Luna well enough to be right.
"I got it." She responds, uncharacteristically trying to hide the annoyance in her voice.
With his door shut, Colson Snaps Luna back before throwing himself down. Hoping to find her smell, he can only find other people in their bed. Pissed, he rips the blankets, sheets and pillow cases off, throwing them out the door.
Grabbing her pillow and tucking his nose inside his hoodie, he catches her faint scent. Images of Luna dancing in his head as he falls asleep.
-------------------------------------------------
Luna wakes up to a hard banging on her door. It's just after 2P. Touching the empty side of her bed, Luna wishes Colson was with her.
Hating The World, she let's them bang. Finding her phone, there's a Snap from Colson.
"He's such a dirty Motherfucker..." Luna thinks with a grin.
The door still pounding.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!! I'M COMING!" She shouts as she climbs out of bed.
Winging the door open, it's Ashley and Dom. Impatient fucking Assholes.
"WHY!?!" Luna demands. "Why the FUCK do you need to bang like that?" Luna complains as she let's them in.
"To wake your bitch ass up." Ashley snarks, pushing her way into the room.
"Mornen' Loons." Dom greets her to her silent nod.
"You really are a DICKFUCK sometimes...." Luna says with annoyance.
"Whatever...." Ashley brushes her off. "Got any bud?" She asks, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah.... But it was shoved up my asshole, so do you really wanna smoke it?" Luna deadpans.
"Shut the fuck up." Ashley laughs as she turns to Dom. "She didn't shove it up her ass." She reassures him.
"Oi... Bum smoke is no problem fo me!" Dom responds, making both Girls laugh.
Dom knowing Them well enough to truly understand the nature of their friendship. Rolling one up as Ashley and Luna climb onto the bed together. Luna's ring catching Ashley's eye for the first time.
"HOLY FUCK! WHAT IS THIS!!!" She exclaims as she grabs for Luna's hand.
Admiring the large, sparkling stone, she moves Luna's hand all around as it catches the light. Shining brighter with every different angle. It's definitely NOT a guitar string.
"He picked this out on his own?" She asks in amazement.
"I think Rook might've helped him a little, but yeah... I had nothing to do with it." Luna answers.
"Good job, Kells." Ashley compliments his choice.
Luna, Ashley and Dom burn and chat. Talking about Colson, the ring, what they've both been up to and the upcoming weddings. It feels like forever since The Girls last saw each other. In reality, it's only been three days since the show at The Roxy.
"Alright... We gotta motor. Go shower, we have rehearsal in less then 2hrs. Come meet us in room 202 when you're ready." Ashley directs Luna.
"Alright......" Luna yawns loudly.
She heads into the bathroom as Ashley and Dom close her door behind them. Lighting another joint, she rails three 30s as she gets ready for the shower. Forgetting to Snap Colson back due to her unexpected visitors.
-------------------------------------------------
"Cool..." Colson thinks when he finally opens his door. His angry linen fit is gone from the floor. "Thanks Sam...." His brain grateful even if his actions are sometimes dickish.
Walking to the front of The Bus, everyone's lounging, burning and waiting for him. Plopping down next to AJ, he asks Rook to throw him a bag of chips. Colson nonchalantly munches on them as they all talk about tonight's show. Working on the setlist, he hates when he has to cut Bad Things as he finishes his snack.
"Dawg... Raise that shit to your face!!" Slim hollers at the picture on the bag.
Looking at it, Colson asks "What like this?" Lifting it up just under his nose.
The entire Bus erupts into laughter. It fits so perfectly. Colson tosses his phone to Slim.
"Here, take a picture.... We'll see if this is wedding acceptable." He laughs.
Tossing it back after he takes one, Slim laughs out a Definitely Not as Colson shoots Luna a Snap asking the same question. Colson shrugs with amusement... You never know with Loons.
"We ready to fuck this day up?" He asks as he begins to lead the rest of them off of The Bus.
-------------------------------------------------
Throwing on jeans, with a band T and flannel, Luna has her hair up. Red bandana securing it. Only having one pair of contacts left, she chooses to wear her glasses. The sun being her eyeballs mortal enemy today.
In the front seat of an uber with Ashley and Dom, her phone goes off. It's another Snap from Colson.
What the SHIT!!" Luna can't contain her thoughts or laughter. "Look at this crazy Asshole!!" She laughs.
Screenshotting the Snap before passing it to the backseat. Both of them erupt into laughter also.
"Oi. E wears it so well!!" Dom laughs.
"No... No, he doesn't. He looks like a fucking pornstar." Luna laughs as she takes back her phone.
"Pornstache!!" Ashley laughs out loudly to Luna's hysterical agreement.
Catching the older driver's amused eyes, Luna shows him. Bursting out laughing, he agrees... Yes, I'm sorry but Your Boyfriend Looks Like a PornStar. Tickling Luna's funny bone to the core.
"FUCKING JOHNNY WADS!!!!" She shouts, turning in her seat to look at Ashley before she Snaps Colson back.
She's referring to one of the pioneering PornStars of the 70s. John Holmes. Huge cock. 15 inches... If not more. A wild and extremely violent true story. The two of them watching the movie dozens of times as teenagers. Amongst many others.
Even with with one's own solid influences, false advertisements are still intriguing. Filling their young, rebellious souls. Recommending the fucked up movie to anyone who loves drugs, violence, Val Kilmer and unhappy endings.
youtube
"Oooh.. Christ!!! You better hope not, Phoebe!!" Ashley laughs.
"Fuck you... I'd be a Smelly Cat BEFORE a fucking SHARON!!!" Luna flicks her off with a laugh and a grin.
Dom chiming in to sing Smelly Cat as they step out of their cab and head into the venue to rehearse for the Awards Show. The Girls singing along with him.
"Wait... What are we doing and why are we in Mexico again?" Luna asks, slightly confused.
"It's the MTV Latin Millennial Awards." Ashley answers as if Luna's supposed to just get it.
"Annnnnd....?" She leads.
"And I'm nominated and performing. They requested Without Me and Nightmare so you HAVE to be here." She teases Luna while draping her arms around her shoulders from behind.
"But we're not Latina....?" Luna's still confused.l
"Dude... I don't know. I just played the Brazil one a few weeks ago. Without Me is a nominee for Global Hit... Maybe that's why." Ashley shrugs. "We've got more important things to worry about. I want us do some choreography with four dancers."
"You fucking what?" Luna asks in bewilderment.
Ashley has her at an Award Show in Mexico and now she wants her to dance like some fucking pop star. She's gotta be out of her God Damn mind.
"Yeah!!! It'll be fun!! Come meet the girls." Ashley says with a grin as she pulls Luna along.
"Fuck my stupid fucking life...." Is all Luna can think.
--------------------------------------------------
Colson is rehearsing with The Boys. Deciding to take a Burn&Board Break, they head out back. Reaching into his pocket, he finds a Snap from Luna.
Laughing at her smart ass response and missing her voice, he calls her. It rings straight through. Colson can't resist leaving her a voicemail.
🎶Off that fat ass//Imma do a line or two//Before we//Have our own private shoot//Where I//PornStar Fuck//The shit outta you//Be ready//When you come back//Boo//Cuz it's//Only Bad Things//That we do🎶
Laughing after he finishes, he shouts "LOVE YOU, KITTEN!! CALL ME!" before hanging up.
-------------------------------------------------
Luna's BackStage as Ashley and Dom sit in the audience. She's trying not to freak out over the performance Ashley wants to pull off. Even with Patti making her take ballet and gymnastics, Luna is not a dancer. She's a musician, a songwriter, a photographer, a painter, a sculptor. An artist. You could even call her an activist, a feminist, a bitch and an outlaw. What you can not call her is a professional dancer.
"This is gonna be a fucking shit show...." She worries as she hears Ashley's name called. "OH FUCK!! SHE WON!!!" Luna's brain bursts. Any other thoughts disappearing with the excitement for her bestfriend.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Catching up in the dressing room they're sharing, Luna congratulates Ashley with a tight hug. Popping into the bathroom while Ashley puts on her first outfit, Luna shoots Colson a Snap. Not paying attention to her voicemail as she comes out of the bathroom. She always has an unchecked voicemail.
"Change. We're on next." Ashley instructs her, pointing to the latex and chain garments sitting on a chair.
Wiggling into the tight pieces, Luna checks herself out in the stand up mirror. Her outfit consisting of a latex crop top, VERY small booty shorts with metal chains dangling securely around the hips, fishnets and a pair of Docs. Ashley has the exact same thing on under what looks like a 1980's prom dress.
"You know I'm keeping these right?" Luna asks as she slides her hand up her smooth ass.
"Yeah, I figured..." Ashley laughs as a tiara is placed on top of her head.
"See you out there, Miss 2019." Luna smiles, referring to the sash Ashley's wearing as she makes her way out the door.
Luna double checking herself before following behind. Thinking about Snapping Colson again, she decides to wait. He loves the feel of latex and she'd rather show him in person.
---------------------------------------------------
Colson's phone goes off just as he's about to silence it. It's Luna.
"Fuck, she's gorgeous...." He thinks staring at her picture. Wanting to put his hands on every inch of the bare skin she's showing. More so on the parts she's not.
"Yo!!! You gotta go!!" Ashleigh hollers at him.
Walking quickly down the hall, Colson Snaps Luna back before heading OnStage. Grabbing his guitar, he shouts to the crowd WHAT UP EST FAM!!!! making the factory explode in excitement.
--------------------------------------------------
Ashley presents Without Me almost as a performance piece. Standing alone OnStage in her pretty dress, sash and tiara initially until black, shadowy figures begin to push and pull at her. By the end of the song, they've ripped the gown off of her. Leaving her on the floor.
The lights go down as the opening chords to Nightmare come on. Ashley running to the MainStage to meet Luna. It's a long runway with a large circular stage at the bottom.
Luna and Ashley bounce in between the four similarly dressed dancers. Ashley kicking her leg out high as she begins.
🎼I!🎶
She shouts the opening chorus as the two of them run, bounce and jump down the straight away towards the camera. Of course it's being televised. Stopping MidStage, the dancers squat down. Surrounding them as Luna hits her mark.
🎶I'm out for blood//And it won't be sweet🎶
She sings, dragging her hands around her body as the dancers and Ashley tilt their heads back and forth to the beat. On que the six of them stalk to the center of the stage, Ashley and Luna in the middle. Back to back the dancers pull at them as Luna bellows.
🎶Society has us//Pinching our skin//With our own fingers//Wishing we could//Cut our parts off//With some scissors🎶
None of their performances together are the same but they do carry similar tones. Luna and Ashley still mocking each other about Giving Each Other A Smile. Instead of jumping wildly, they move in sync with the dancers to their sides. Fire exploding as they drop out and let the audience shout that WE DON'T OWE YOU A GOD DAMN THING!
The six of them sit down on the ground, sat behind the other like a human train. Leaning forwards and backwards as Ashley sings how she's No Sweet Dream But A HELL Of Night. Standing up and collectively circling around Luna and Ashley, the dancers move behind them as Luna comes in again.
🎶No, I won't smile//But I'll show you my teeth//And I might let you breathe//If you just let Us be//We've been polite//But we're done with this trend//Of men thinking//They can tell Us//What we can do in our beds🎶
Rolling their hips and hitting different moves together on certain lyrics, the choreography isn't nearly as awful as Luna had anticipated. Fire bursting around them as they squat and move easily with the dancers. The performance rolling smoothly.
"Thank you, Mexico City!! Thank you for having us. Thank you for the honor of my award..." Ashley shouts to the crowd as the song begins to come to it's end.
Luna comes up to Ashley, putting her arm around her. Looking at each other, Luna turns back to the room.
"Yes!! Thank you!! This woman here is AMAZING!! Can you do one thing for her? On this last verse can you go WILD!?!" Luna asks to their roars. "THEN, HERE WE GO!!!!"
Ashley and Luna sing together strong and fierce. Fire and lights exploding around them. Fuck the choreography, they're fully enjoying losing their minds OnStage together. To their credit, the dancers are completely professional and stay on point. Somehow managing to avoid crashing into the Maniacal Girls
🎶I!//KEEP A RECORD//OF THEIR WRECKAGE//AND THEIR LIES//WE'RE STARTEN' TO WEAPONIZE//OUR POWERFUL MINDS//THEY TALK SHIT//BUT//WE WON'T TAKE IT//THIS TIME//AND//THEY'LL FINALLY REALIZE🎶
Coming together again, arms linked around each other and the dancers waists, The Girls yell in unison with a wave.
"THAT WE'RE NO SWEET DREAM BUT WE'RE A HELL OF A NIGHT!!! THANK YOU AGAIN, MEXICO CIIIIITYYYY!!!"
The two bestfriends laughing and holding hands as they walk OffStage. Thanking and complimenting the dancers along their way.
-------------------------------------------------
"THROW THOSE HORNS UP AND SIIINGIIING!" Colson shouts as he grips the mic, guitar hanging from his body.
🎶Woah, Woah//She said//You need to let me go//Woah, woah//She said I'd die for you//You're like my drug//But I can't get high off you//You're not mine anymore🎶
His Est Family erupting with him as they sing along word for word Let You Go with him. There is NOTHING like thousands of people singing your words along with you.
The Band runs through El Diablo and Rap Devil. Colson climbing onto the top of Rook's kit hitting a guitar solo during Alpha Omega. Bad Motherfucker follows with them finally ending on 27.
It's a great show. The Boys are raw and fearless. Colson jumping and climbing on everything he can find. Shouting THANK YOU, IDAHO! as they exit the stage.
Without Luna there Colson feels a bit lost. Heading straight BackStage, avoiding his dressing room. Grabbing a beer, he slams a shot with The Crew. Random Girls floating in around them. Falling all over themselves to get to Rook, Slim, AJ, Baze and Colson.
Sam is sitting on a couch between Colson and Baze talking about tonight's show, if anyone's heard from Luna and other random stuff. It's when two girls slither over, each perching themselves on the arm rest next to one of the boys. Touching them to get their attention.
Sam looks left. Then Sam looks right. Reaching in her back pocket, she pulls out her blade. Popping it, she looks back and forth between the two females again.
"I'd get the fuck up if you cunts like your tits." She states with a snarl.
The two quickly moving away as Colson laughs. Sam and Luna truly are two peas in a pod. Looking over he catches Baze kiss Sam's cheek. It makes him miss his LunaTic even more.
"Knock it off." He tells them. "If I'm not getting any, neither are you motherfuckers. Now, let's get FUCKED UP!!" Colson declares as he grabs a bottle of Jack.
--------------------------------------------------
Luna's doing the same. Only in Mexico with Corona and Mezcal. Sitting at an After Party with Ashley, Dom, the boys from BTS and a few other artist, they bullshit and talk about the night. Everyone stopping to congratulate Ashley on her win and compliment both Girls on their performances.
"You won't eat the worm..." Ashley dares Luna as she swigs the bottle with the little guy floating inside.
"Nothing happens if you do...." Luna blows her off.
"Yes hunh.... You start trippen'. Isn't that right, Luis?" She asks as she turns to one of the other artist.
"For dayyys, Mami..." He drawls.
Rolling her eyes, Luna takes the last of the fifth to the head. The other's watching with wide eyes as the worm slides down her throat with it.
"We'll see... But I call bullshit." Luna states.
"Aye..." Luis nudges Ashley. "She's no gallina." He says impressed to her nod.
"Nah, mucho perra." Luna counters to his surprise.
"Aye...." He grins with his own nod, amused by the tiny white girl.
The music is loud as smoke and Mezcal continue to flow. Everyone is drunk. Ashley tries to follow with Dom as Luis teaches Luna to salsa. Politely declining his advances as his hand slips from the small of her back down to her ass.
"I'll be back...." She calls over her shoulder as she goes to check her phone.
There's a Snap from Colson hours ago.
Both sets of Luna's cheeks instantly flush when she reads his words. Missing him, she calls instantly.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"Hi, Bunny...." Her voice is low and warm when he answers.
"Oooh, Kitten. I miss you." He sighs.
"Me too... I miss your face. And your eyeballs. And your hands on my body. The way they run threw my hair when I suck your cock..."
Colson's dick had perked up at the sound of her voice but her words have him full on hard now. Wanting to fuck her, touch her.... Shit, just seeing her right now would probably make him cum.
"Where are you?" He demands
"I don't know.... Somewhere in Mexico?" She answers.
"Find somewhere alone and FaceTime me right back." He tells her firmly.
"Okay." She simply says as she hangs up.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Luna heads towards the stairwell. Popping in her air pods, she FaceTime's Colson right back.
Colson had made his way into a bathroom while they were off the phone. Answering, he can't help but break out into a smile.
"Hey, Gorgeous... You alone?" He asks after greeting her.
"Mhmm... Just me and your pussy." She coos. "She's lonely without you...."
"Show her to me." Colson taunts as he adjusts his phone on the bathroom sink and unbuckles his pants. Both of them are drunk and horny.
Luna props her phone against the wall across from her. Standing up, she slips off the black jean shorts she has on. Sitting on them, she drops her left leg on the step below and lifts her right to the one above. Spreading her legs for Colson. Only a screen and Luna's black panties separating them.
"I want you to touch her." He requests as he starts to pull on his hard cock.
Luna can see him playing with himself through the phone. Obliging him, she pulls the cotton to the side. Exposing her bare lips. Opening them for him to see her pink insides. Colson tugs harder on himself as Luna slips her fingers inside her sopping cunt. Letting out a low moan as she arches her back.
"That's right, Kitty... Play with my pussy. Rub that clit with your thumb the way I know you like." He directs her.
Following directions, Luna uses her free hand to yank the Japanese Star Wars shirt she has on up. Exposing her full breasts. With her fingers still inside of herself, she grips one tit. Playing with it's piercing between her thumb and index finger. The sight of his ring on her hand makes Colson rage even more.
"Does that feel good?" He pants as he watches her, feeling close to exploding.
"Unh hunh.... She moans with closed eyes as she bucks against her own hand. "Be better if my mouth had your cock in it." She lets out with another moan, she's close too.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard you can't fucking walk by time I'm done with you." Colson threatens to Luna's delight as he grips the sink.
With Colson's deep voice wrapping around her brain and the memory of his touch hitting all her senses Luna cries out for him as they masturbate for each other.
"AHHHH FUCK! DO IT, LOONS!!" He shouts as his dick shoots his seed everywhere, keeping his eyes glued to the screen.
Luna's spread eagle as she finger fucks herself on the steps. Bucking wildly as her hands please her body. Cumming all over herself as Colson watches in pleasure.
Out of breath, Luna opens her eyes. "Fuck, C....." Is all she can get out as her knees fall together.
"Lemme see her one more time.... Bring her close." He instructs.
Opening her legs back up, Luna pulls her phone up to her box. She can hear Colson telling her pussy that She's A DIRTY Girl. Looking down when she hears him making kissing noises, all she can see is his lips. He's kissing his phone screen.
"Are you trying to kiss my fucking vagina?" Luna asks with a drunken laugh.
"Damn right I am." He grins.
"I fucking love you." She laughs again as she shakes her head.
"Not as much as I love you. Now put your fucking pants back on before I have to kill someone." He smirks.
Doing as she's told, Luna slips her shorts back on over her soaked panties. Staring at each other, both of their heads are dancing in ecstasy.
Luna and Colson sit on the phone for another 45mins just talking. About anything and everything as usual. Luna telling him about the choreographed performance. Colson chuckling, saying He'll Be Finding It On YouTube to Luna's Fuck. Agreeing to meet in Seattle tomorrow, they exchange sweet Love and I Miss Yous before hanging up.
***********************************************
"Jesus fucking Christ, that girl can make me cum from ANYWHERE!" Colson thinks as he walks out of the bathroom contently.
***********************************************
"Holy cock on a cracker...." Luna sighs to herself. "That fucking voice gets me every time...." She thinks as her heart throbs for her Lover.
--------------------------------------------------
Still on the same continent, they both head back to their respected parties separately. Colson eventually moving his party to The Bus. Luna moving her's back to The Four Seasons.
He'll ride through the night while she'll fly out tomorrow. Bringing Dom and Ashley with her.
Even apart, they're still on each other's minds. Even with shows in different country codes, they still mange to fuck only each other.
Truly showcasing A Day In The Life of a LunaTic and Her Gunn.
---------------------------------------------------
To be continued.....
#colson baker imagines#colsonbaker#colson baker x reader#colson baker smut#colson baker#machine gun kelly#machine gun kelly x reader#machine gun kelly smut#mgk imagines#mgk imagine#mgk fanfic#mgk#mgk smut#mgk fluff#est 19xx#est4life#est19xx#est#tradgedy#lunatic#longstory#long reads#lovestory#not safe for minors#not safe for tumblr#drunknights#drugs#prescription drugs#drug addiction#hotel diablo
40 notes
·
View notes