#and stop making me justify my answer jesus fucking christ i said what i said for a reason

[oblitus-vulpes]

🧍‍♂️

[stylesunchained]

What happened to this blog? Every ask you post is either 1) tinhat crap like - It's all for PR relationships, all of his relationships are PR 2) misogyny crap - that all women dating Harry have ultimate schemes of using his popularity so its PR, that women dating Harry are below other women as they stooped so low, to put women dating him in different boxes is pure misogyny 3) racist crap - that Taylor is not this, not that, not enough, too mean, not mean all, all because of the colour of her skin, she is separated from other women who dated Harry, so pure racism. Post this ask and explain why you post the asks in the first place? If you ignore this ask I assume it is because you agree with the asks you post and thus you are a racist misogynist tinhat. 

Sure, because me answering people and telling them to go live their life and stop obsessing over celebrities is the same as me agreeing with what OTHER PEOPLE message me about. Do you have better shit to do? I have not said a word about that girl which I have expressed more times than I can count I do not care about nor am I paying attention to her and whatever she is doing with Harry. You are foaming at the mouth to claim people are racist because you think this somehow makes you a better fan for fawning over someone who you’ve known for two minutes but newsflash it does nooooot. I am not racist nor am I a tinhat nor am I discussing any of this and if you cared to read my ANSWERS instead of the asks OTHER PEOPLE write to me, you’d know that. Now this is exactly why I stepped away from here because even when I am posting about something else that has nothing to do with Harry, your stupid brains can’t seem to compute that I simply don’t care about who he’s supposedly dating and/or spending his time with. You’re the tinhat spending 100% of your time trying to point fingers at people for things they didn’t do or say. I stg I don’t understand why your ass cares so much about what I do or say or think when I have said so many times I am not going to comment on this because I don’t know this girl, I don’t care to and she is irrelevant to me because I simply don’t give two shits about this! There’s no other feeling behind other than LACK OF INTEREST OR CARE. Can you get that into your stupid fucking brain? Jesus Christ, man. I’m sick and tired of people like you.

Also, I am sick and tired of being called things I am not. I don’t need to justify myself and won’t continue to do so. This is the only answer you’re getting. Everything else will be deleted. Have a nice life! Touch grass! Read books! Maybe if you do that you’ll develop the necessary skills to stop being a stupid cunt on the internet!

[ch4nb4ng]

Continuation of [3:21]

Dom!Seungmin x fem reader

Warnings: praise, oral (fem receiving),

Word count: 1.1k

[3:31]

The feeling of Seungmin’s digits digging just above the crevice that were your hip bones was way too spectacular for such a simple thing. His breath was flaming hot, alternating between sucking harshly on the skin of your shoulder, and blowing on it once it became freshly marked. A hum of approval heard from his throat as he pushed himself completing up against your backside.

“Seungmin p-please.” A soft grunt escaped your lips as he edged his fingers closer to the insatiable heat between your legs. Any attempt to keep the noises behind the blind was a fail.

“Shhh pretty girl,” he purred, now grabbing a hold of said skirt that he suggested for you to wear, “you have to keep quiet or we will get kicked out.”

The tone of his voice, soft, yet stern, made the hairs on your limbs stand. This was very different from the sweet, boy next door vibe that Seungmin gave off around you. Almost satan had arrived and possessed his soul as he shoved the skirt out of his way, determined to also push the thin fabric that was your panties to the side. His stance was firm, your back flush to his chest as the heaviness of his breath fanned against your ear.

Part of you wanted to push him away, Jisung slowly playing in the back of your mind. Any thought of him, however, became void as soon as you felt Seungmin’s digits swipe roughly across your slit, a loud, but sudden moan escaping your lips.

Shit.

Shit was all you could say when you heard another pair of footsteps leading to the mere blind that covered you from being exposed to the rest of the store.

“Is everything okay in there?”

The poor lady. Voice full of genuine concern for you.

“Yes, I’m fine, sorry, I just fell over and hurt my knee, I’ll be out in a m-minute.”

He waited one minute, more like one second as he forcefully grabbed your shoulders, flipping you around, now pressing his front against you. A stifled moan came from him as he ground his hard on into your inner thigh. God, he was big. You could tell he was big from the way it looked as soon as he walked into the change room, but the way he was pushing his hips against your clothed core was infatuating.

“F-fuck,” you whined, causing Seungmin to push his hand over your mouth. What you thought would be suffocating, if anything, actually turned you on more.

But it was when he dropped to his knees, grabbing you by the wrists, opening your closed fists and plunging them on top of his head, did you actually notice how much he was really turning you on. The skirt was barely of obstruction to Seungmin now, ripping the thin, useless fabric that was completely drenched to your ankles in one swift motion.

“Jesus christ Seungmin,” you sighed, taking advantage of his proposal and tugging him closer to where you needed him, “you couldn’t wait until we weren’t in public?”

He said nothing. Instead, sticking out his tongue, flattening the muscle as he pushed into your folds, heavily lapping your clit. It was pure bliss, barely giving you anytime to react as he prodded two fingers at your entrance. Your legs were already shaking, easily melting into his touch now. No mercy was there for you. Not a second to breathe as he hands roamed around, easily finding their positions on your thighs as he glued you to the wall.

“Oh my god,” you panted, your filter, or any sense of control you once had dissipating with each second, “just like that.”

Seungmin hummed against you, allowing the vibrations from his throat to add even more pleasure being given to you. He followed by replacing his mouth with his fingers, the consistency of his mouth and his fingers massaging your clit was barely noticeable. He wanted a chance. He needed time to see how good he was making him feel; an ego boost, if you will. He was nothing but satisfied as he looked up to see your gaze weak, jaw hung open and eyes wide, almost as if you were in shock.

“Not what you were expecting from someone like me huh?”

The smirk on his face was priceless, knowing very well that you could barely speak a coherent word, let alone answer his question. He took his hand away for a brief moment, a muffled whine escaping your mouth. You had previously replaced Seungmin’s hand for silence with your own. The idea of racing to avoid being caught was fun, but the actual idea was genuinely mortifying. He justified his position, spreading your thighs even further apart, even going so far as to rest your foot on his shoulders. All the muscles in your upper body contracted as he brought his lips back to where the job wasn’t quite complete.

His face became scrunched in thought. He wanted to do his job of getting you off properly. To blow your mind out of this world that even the mere thought of Jisung would be a long, forgotten memory. And that was when an idea came to his head. Instead of his previous attack, like a predator in heat, he stuck his tongue out instead, almost like a seat for you to sit on. Hands still entangled in his locks, you easily complied, hips grinding down harshly along him, the wetness of your pussy enough to make it a smooth ride. It was now when your release was tipping on the edge. The all too familiar knot churning in your lower abdomen as he looked like a dog panting, tongue sticking firm to your clit, hands soothingly running up and down your sides. His touch providing a sense of coolness, allowing you to relax even more into his touch.

“F-fuck,” you whined, “I’m gonna cum Seungmin, don't stop.”

Your eyes screwed shut as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. Seungmin chuckled once more, the vibration helping you to spill over the oh so dangerous edge. Your body began to shake, legs becoming nimble as you collapsed into him. Lucky his reflexes were quick, because there was no way you would have made a safe fall after such a mind-blowing orgasm.

Seungmin rose from his knee buckling position, grabbing you by the chin and placing a soft kiss to your lips and allowing you to have a test. Once your eyes fluttered open, he kept his fingers on your chin, turning it slightly to your left.

“Look at that,” Seungmin purred, forcing you to look into the annoyingly well-placed mirror next to you, “don’t forget that this is how easily I can have you wrapped my finger around you when you’re out having fun with him tonight.”

[toutallyahoe]

Everybody Talks ~ Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyuu) pt 3

requested by: --

a/n: asdfghjkl last part on this long ass one shot

yay

part one | part two | part three

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Taking his hand away from the shake, the [Hair color] haired male seemed to realized something.

"Ah, by the way Iwaizumi-san?" [Name] started as hia demeanour completely changed. Hajime was surprised to see the energetic and upbeat male seemed to abruptly turn flustered with his cheeks flushed red and an awkward grin on his lips.

"Were you... were you listening long...?" The [Hair color] haired male trailed off and Hajime took a second or two to realized what the light music club president had meant. Immediately, Hajime's cheeks flushed as he cleared his throat to answer.

"N-not that long," Hajime said as he avoided eye contact from the other male who let out an awkward laugh.

"A-ah... I see," Hajime heard the musician sighed in relief yet when the dark haired male had sent the the other a glance, Hajime could still see some flush on [Name]'s cheeks.

'Cute...' The volleyball player had thought. Hajime's eye widened when he realized what he just thought about the [Hair color] haired male.

"So, uhhh, do you need something else?" [Name]'s voice cut through the dark haired male's thoughts before Hajime could berate himself for thinking such a thing on a person he just met a few times.

But [Name] was his soulmate though, right? So Hajime is justified think his soulmate is cute— oh. Oh wait, Hajime still haven't truly confirmed that the male standing in front of him was his soulmate.

"[Last name]-san!" The said male was surprised with the dark haired male's loud voice. Hajime just yelled his name out of the blue and he was so confused. Looking at Hajime, [Name] raised a brow at the volleyball player but Hajime seemed to look at him with something shining in those eyes of his.

"Uh, yes?" [Name] had asked. Unsure of himself as he looked at the volleyball player who didn't answer his question, by the way.

"Are you a fan of Neon Trees?" The dark haired male had asked. Hajime wanted to ask about the musician listening to a specific song of the band but the inner hopeless romantic that Hajime just wants to burn right now wanted [Name] to realize they are soulmates. Or well, Hajime assumes (and hopes) they are so he won't embarresed himself.

"Hm? Yeah, I am!" [Name] had answered happily when he recovered from getting caught off guard by the dark haired male's randkm question that cane out of the blue. "I've actually been listening to one of their songs like a week now," [Name] continued and Hajime had to bite back the victorious grin threatening to appear his lips. This was no doubt his soulmate.

"Don't you think your soulmate would be annoyed by you listening to it though?" Hajime had asked. The dark haired male wanted to punch himself when he processed what he just said.

Why the fuck is he asking this questions?!? The musician would probably by offended by them! Goddammit Hajime, you dumbass—

"Soulmate?" [Name] said, confused. His confusion made the dark haired male stopped trying to mentally beat himself up and look at the [Hair color] haired male in confusion and slight disappointment.

Why did the light music club president said soulmates in such a confused tone? Was he not aware of the soulmate bond? Was he bondless?

Hajime had heard that there are rare cases of people being "bondless" or have no soulmates that it is either their soulmates had died before they met or just wasn't destine with anyone. If [Last name] [Name] was bondless, Hajime just got his hopes up for nothing and he—

"Oh..." [Name] said. There was a moment of silence for a second until he finally processed it. "Oh!" [Name] had said in surprised as he snapped his fingers in realization. "I forgot about the soulmate bond!"

Hajime didn't know whether to facepalm from the [Hair color] haired male's idiocy or punch the male by his idiocy. Perhaps both.

The dark haired male's thoughts of being so done with everything right now was cut off my the [Hair color] haired male's chuckles.

"I probably annoyed my soulmate for listening to a song for a week straight," [Name] had said, amused as he shakes his head. Hajime assumed the musician was thinking of his soulmate's reaction on listening to one song on repeat for about a week. A week and a half to be more accurately.

"Wonder what they thought about it," [Name] had wondered out loud and Hajime decided to just say it. After all, who was he to not let the [Hair color] haired male know what his soulmate think about his idiocy?

"Well, they thought you lost your sanity by listening to "Everybody Talks" by Neon Trees for a week and a half straight," Hajime had bluntly said as he crossed his arms over his chest. The dark haired male was amused when he saw [Name] nodded and hummed in agreement.

"Yeah, probably..." [Name] had agreed to the dark haired male as he closed his eyes. The [Hair color] haired male was imaging his soulmates reaction on his choices of listening to the upbeat song for a a long time.

There was a moment of silence for a second until the [Hair color] haired male just realized what Hajime had just said. [Eye color] eyes snapping open and widened in shock, [Name] looked at the dark haired male with surprised.

"Hey wait— how did you know I was listening to that song?" [Name] had asked, confused as the [Hair color] haired male was sure he never said what song he was listening to that his soulmate had heard from him to the volleyball player. Waiting for the dark haired male's answer, [Name] saw Hajime shakes his head at him and gave him a blank look.

"I'm actually your soulmate," Hajime had confessed as he took a step closer the [Hair color] haired male who was rather frozen in shock. The dark haired male noticed [Name]'s face turning flustered as he began to sputter out incoherent sentences.

"W-wait, what? I-i... w-what? No... that c-cant be... r-really?" The [Hair color] haired male managed to sputter out as when he saw Hajime nodded his head in confirmation, [Name] immediately raised a hand towards his face to cover his flushed cheeks.

"Oh fuck..." [Name] muttered to himself as he just realized that his soulmate was standing in front of him, and had seen him goofing off by his lone self and Hajime probably hates him for listening to "Everybody Talks" by Neon Trees for a week and a half, non-stop!

Oh god, did the dark haired male also hear him listening to his other songs aswell? Does that mean Hajime knew he was also making his own songs? Fuck!

[Name] could care less if his soulmate was a guy, like him. The [Hair color] haired male was more worried on his soulmate who was standing in front of him and witnessed him singing like a wannabe rockstar!

Way to have your priorities straight, [Name]...

[Name] was so embarrassed as he was trying to hide his face in shame from the amused dark haired male who found his actions rather cute, even if Hajime doesn't want to admit it.

Who knew [Last name] [Name], the upbeat male who lowkey looks like a delinquent with his piercing and half dyed hair was actually an easily flustered guy? Hajime didn't, that's for sure.

"S-so, you're my soulmate...?" [Name] had softly said as he had took a hand away from his flushed face. Still avoiding eye contact on the volleyball player who had nodded until Hajime realized it was stupid since the [Hair color] haired male wasn't looking him.

"Yeah... I am," Hajime had confirmed again as he looked at the [Hair color] haired male with an amused smile. Iwaizumi Hajime was very amused with his soulmate, but the dark haired male remembered something which made his smile grimaced while his right eye twitched.

Stepping more closer to his soulmate, Hajime uncrossed his arms off his chest while his smile turned into a small frown while he glared at the male. [Name] didn't seemed to notice to volleyball player's change of demeanor from him still being a flustered mess, and Hajime took that as an opportunity to immediately smacked the [Hair color] haired male's arm rather roughly. Granted, the dark haired male was really tempted to hit [Name] in the head, but Hajime thought to give his soulmate some slack even if his soulmate had caused him some problems from listening to a single song on repeat that had drove him to annoyance and maybe edge closer to insanity.

"O-ow!" [Name] hissed as he rubbed the pain he felt from where the volleyball player had smacked his arm. Jesus Christ, no wonder Iwaizumi Hajime was called the "ace" in the males volleyball club, the dark haired male can pack a punch— or slap in this case.

"W-what was that for?" [Name] asked as he sent Hajime a look. The red flush on his face seemed to be simmered down with only a pink hue on his [Skin color] cheeks.

"That," Hajime started as he hit [Name] again, but rather more softly this time as his glare softened a little bit. "Was for making me almost go insane from your music choice... for a week," Hajime said as he crossed his arms onto his chest again.

The volleyball player let out a huff but an amused smile on his lips when he saw the [Hair color] haired male apologetically smiled at him while rubbing the nape of his neck rather bashfully. Hajime had to admit, for a tough looking, wannabe rebel guy, [Last name] [Name] does act all shy and cute.

"Ah," [Name] let out as he awkwardly chuckled at the dark haired male's words. The [Hair color] haired musician felt heat creeping back onto his face as he gave apologetic grins at his soulmate.

Soulmate. God, that word had always made him feel giddy in the inside. His soulmate was standing right in front of him. Sure, their first meeting was wasn't what he had first had in mind and that it was a bit awkward with Hajime finding him in an embarrassing predicament and also that he just had played a song over and over on repeat for about a week and a half now— but [Last name] [Name] was happy.

"So sorry about that!" [Name] had apologize as he bowed towards the dark haired male who was a but surprised by his actions. Standing straight up and looking at Hajime in the eye, all embarrassment that he felt washed away as he looked at his soulmate in determination which doubled Hajime's surprised. "I swear it's for a better... uhhh, cause!"

If the [Hair color] haired male did not faltered in his words in the end, Hajime would have felt more satisfied with his apology. Still, Hajime can't find inside of him to stay mad at [Name]. This was his soulmate. Not a lot of people gets the chance to met their soulmate earlier in their lives and some don't get to met at all, so, Hajime felt that he should forgive his soulmate. It wasn't a big deal anyways.

Sighing, Hajime uncrossed his arms and grabbed [Name]'s shoulder. Looking at the [Hair color] haired male in the eye, Hajime searched for any signs of lies in the [Hair color] haired male's face. Seeing that the musician was actually sorry, Hajime gave [Name] a small smile. His eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Well, this cause better be worth it, [Last name]-kun," Hajime had said as he patted the [Hair color] haired male's shoulder. Hajime saw [Name] broke into smiles as he nodded his head at that.

"I promise you, it'll be worth it, Iwaizumi-kun!" [Name] had said as he smiled at the dark haired male. "And I'll also make up to you!"

Truth be told, the [Hair color] haired male was a bit anxious when the volleyball player had grabbed his shoulder. [Name] was afraid that he and his soulmate wouldn't get along but when he saw Hajime send him a small smile while patting his shoulder, [Name] felt happy to know that maybe he and Hajime could work this soulmate thing out. And Hajime felt the same way aswell.

"You better!" Hajime chuckled as he gentle pushed [Name]'s shoulder while the [Hair color] haired male grinned at him happily. Yeah, they can work this out.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

< prev

[stab-the-son-of-a]

And We’re Live

“This ought to be fun.”

The man, the being, the figure, doesn’t introduce himself, of course not. He needs no introductions, not because he’s notable or particularly renowned, but because he refuses to. You may call him the announcer, capital and article optional, as that’s what he is, and all he will be. 

The Announcer adjusts the display on the screen for the optimal viewing experience. On it is a dim, possibly damp even, basement, with a small crowd of people huddled inside. Three is company, but four is a crowd, and this collection of people is certainly a crowd crammed inside. 

Three men, one woman, but only one of the men stands. He’s one of the only ones who can, as one man is clearly too weak to, and the other, the older man, has a broken leg. The woman could stand, but her faint wavering even while sitting down belies the fact her balance is not yet restored from the head injury that left a streak of blood dried in her hair.

“You recognize these, don’t you?” The Announcer asks. He asks you, in fact. You can’t recall the color of his eyes, the tone of his skin, or anything, though you can recognize his attentions on you even through the screen. “Yes. You. It’s been some time since you’ve last seen or heard from them, but I’m sure you remember.” 

The Announcer smiles. It appears, a flash of expression, but you can’t remember the emotion behind it or recognize any other feature of his before he fades away in your mind again to nothing more than a vehicle of your entertainment. He knows this. He is not the star. Your gaze slips back toward the more interesting people. Thom nods off, cradled against Dale’s side opposite to Jaden, and Summer is half hidden behind Dale’s bulk. Half, because her focus, even as fuzzy as the concussion leaves her, never wavers from Jaden. Focus, and wariness.

“When last you saw the unfortunate guests of the Pierce couple, they were not enjoying their stay. I’d wager they enjoy it less and less as the days pass. How long?” The Announcer laughs. It’s as unremarkable, and unmemorable as the rest of him. He answers his own question. “Long enough, let us say. Such trivial matters don’t lessen your enjoyment of the main event, does it?”

You feel like maybe the announcer winks, inviting you in on some inside joke or exclusive club.

On the screen, Jaden Pierce towers over a floor-bound Dale Gibson, an ugly smirk on his features, and dangles a water bottle in front of them. 

The Announcer speaks a final time. “I’ll leave you to enjoy your show, my whump aficionados.”

Jaden slowly uncaps the bottle, the seal crackling being the loudest thing in the room. Preening under the cumulative weight of his captives’ stares, he asks, “Aw did you guys want any? There’s only one bottle and really it’s like, unsanitary as hell and super nasty to share so. Take your pick, babes, which of you is desperate enough to earn it?”

“Go to hell you bastard,” Summer croaks. Clearing her throat, she glares, as if that would cow him. Instead, it seems to encourage him, a smirk growing on his face.

Jaden rolls his eyes at the display. “Ooooh I’m so scared.”

“Please. You can’t mess with this like you have our food,” Dale reasons. “We can’t last as long without water. I’ll- I won’t eat. Just please, they need water.”

“Pretty sure you’re showing every sign of dehydration too, so why aren’t you arguing for more water for all of you?” Jaden shifts the bottle to hold it in the crook of his arm before he crouches down and cups Dale’s chin, forcing their gazes to meet. “Oh that didn’t occur to you, did it? Look at those eyes. Anyone ever tell you that you got eyes that tell a story?”

Dale doesn’t justify that with a response, setting his jaw and silently returning Jaden’s curious stare with a furious glower. 

“Get your disgusting hands off him,” Summer snarls. Jaden’s attention flickers to her, and Dale immediately moves to reach out for Jaden’s face, cupping his cheek and bringing their gazes together once more. Or at least, it did, but surprise has Jaden jerking back from the contact, eyes wide and jaw clenched. Unsure of what to do with his hand, or if his impulsive action just ruined any hope of good will from their captor, Dale slowly withdraws his hand back to cover Summer from Jaden’s potential retribution. 

After a few more tense moments, he seems to find whatever he was looking for, or come to some sort of decision.

“Jesus H Christ but you’re boring these days,” Jaden grumbles half-heartedly, but he does shove Dale back. The older man tips, just barely catching himself from dragging an semi-conscious Thom to the floor with him. Noticing the fact Thom barely reacted to the motion, the young man stands back up and takes a few curious steps to the side, an odd expression on his face as he studies his collection from a new angle, and especially the branded man. “So… Uh. What’s up with Thommy boy? He seems a little... not poggers.”

“You branded him,” Dale points out evenly, forcing his panic down. “He needs proper medical attention.” 

“Well, yeah, he got branded sure, but Sunshine there looks right as rain after her little Jack and Jill impression down the stairs, and she didn’t even need anything. So why hasn’t he gotten over it yet?”

“He’s starving,” Dale explains, right as Summer snarls, “Are you really that dumb?”

That’s the perfectly wrong thing to say, as Jaden flips- his eyes dark and hateful, lips twisted into a sneer, focus entirely on her now. Dale flinches back on instinct, free arm extending to block Jaden’s path to Summer. Dale knows, Summer knows, Jaden knows, that it won’t do anything concrete to stop him, but the younger man still does not advance.

Silence descends on the room, heavy and oppressive like the midday heat leaching into the basement.

Though Dale pushes her back, bodily places himself between Jaden and his two charges, Summer continues. “How could you be this... stupid? I can see your report card now. ‘Dear Mr. and Mrs. Moron, look into McDonald’s applications’.”

Emboldened by the silence, and undeterred by the way Dale whispers for her to stop, Summer adds, “Now I know we’re going to go free. You’re going to forget something so fucking simple and get yourself in trouble. And the whole world will forget all about you, you miserable mistake of a human being.”

At the almost petulant look on Jaden’s face, Summer bursts into short, sharp laughter. “I can’t be the first to point out you’re a failure! You’re going to ruin your worthless life-”

“Be quiet,” Jaden orders. Growls. His grip on the water bottle has the plastic bloating and deforming, the flimsy packaging crinkling. “Shut your mouth before I shut it for you. Do not test me.”

“You’re too incompentent to make me do anything, idiot,” Summer fires back.

“Fucking BITCH!” His shriek ends with an abrupt and solid crack.

Dale hurries to gather Summer in his arms, to check her neck and her head. A heavy, purple bruise blooms on her face and jaw even as the swelling shuts her eye. “Come on, Summer, come on,” he whispers, “just open your eyes and look at me.”

Thankfully, despite the lurid color, she is only a little unsteady and dazed and forces her clumsy arms to prop herself up properly. Swallowing a furious sob, Summer screams at Jaden’s retreating back, “You’re fucking pathetic!”

-

Three hours later, Lab Coat Lady entered the basement, flanked by Jaden bearing that damned pistol. When Dale tried to get his attention, Jaden silently raised the gun to the center of the older man’s forehead. Only when Dale slumped and allowed the woman in pink access to Thom, even as his heartbeat climbed ever faster and higher in his throat, did Jaden lower his threat. 

Sluggish and flushed with fever, Thom struggled to cooperate as the woman ordered, except for her last demand- to remain still- as she readied to pour a faint yellow liquid down his throat. She glanced up at Dale, then Summer. Quietly, she offered little explanation (“Hydrocodone”) before tipping it back, and, when Thom realized what had hit the back of his throat, she expertly covered his mouth and nose and held his jaw shut. 

Dale watched it all, feeling like Judas.

Only after his motions slowed and his eyelids drooped did the woman in pink release her hold enough to settle him onto his back. 

From there, she debrided his burn, slathered a generous amount of antiseptic cream, and bandaged the wound with a silvery material, all under Dale’s watchful eye. 

The woman approached Summer next- and again, as soon as either she or Dale moved, Jaden leveled the gun at Thom’s head. Both captives froze, a single, too long moment of realization that despite this effort, he might still decide to blast a bullet into Thom’s skull; blissfully unaware, Thom dozed in a drugged haze. 

He kept the gun trained on Thom the whole time the lab coat lady attended to Summer’s head injury, cleaning out blood from the wound and her hair. Summer, even if only for a moment, leaned into the rhythmic sensation of fingers gently carding through the freshly detangled locks. After that was settled, the pink coated woman checked her pupils and eye tracking, and apparently gave her a clean enough bill of health. Her carving on her lower stomach received the same treatment Thom’s branding had. 

The silence began to itch, like a week without a shower, and Dale clenched his fists as best as his broken wrists allowed. He just wished someone would speak and explain this abrupt change. Was it because of what Summer said? Had they gotten through to him somehow?

Dale stared at Jaden, expecting him to say something, make some sort of joke or verbalize his threat or name what they owed for this kindness. Jaden acted like Dale didn’t exist at all. It was unnerving, the same way it was unnerving to see teachers outside school hours, or parents when they were children- someone with a previous persona acting entirely differently from what one could expect of them. Unexpected was never a good sign when it came to Jaden. 

“On your back,” Lab Coat Lady directed him, pushing him back, powerless, helpless in everyway. He couldn’t defend himself on a good day, let alone stuck supine. He couldn’t even fight back as she pushed down on his chest and drew his hands away from his body. “Cooperate. Things will go smoother.”

They did. His wrists were rebandaged, and his leg braced. That simple act alone brought tears to his eyes, both from the metal pressing against the swollen flesh, and the relief of loose bone finally finding stability. Again, he tried to find Jaden’s gaze, to lock eyes and try to understand, but the man didn’t glance in his direction at all, though he had to feel the weight of his stare. 

Wiping her hands down with sanitizer again, the pungently clean smell permeating the poorly ventilated basement, Lab Coat Lady pulled out three prescription bottles. Haphazardly, Boomer, Thom1, T2, and a sun were written on the bottle lids in sharpie. The lids themselves had timers on them, presumably counting down to the next doses. Next to emerge from the bag was four more water bottles. Just as silent as Jaden had been the whole time, the pair left the basement and latched the door behind them.

“What the hell was that?” Summer whispered after a few minutes. 

“I don’t know,” Dale admitted, struggling to sit back up, even as Summer reached over and helped him to change positions. His gaze dragged back to the locked door, and his mind to the man who had walked out. He didn’t know that man at all. He hadn’t considered that sort of behavior in Jaden’s abilities. His palms began to sweat and shake as he checked the bottles left behind. 

Thom’s was more hydrocodone and an antibiotic. The instructions were clearly detailed on the side of the bottle. The same for Summer’s, another antibiotic. Dale had been… not prescribed, but given, pain relief. Tylenol-3, codeine. The bottles were light, and almost more full of air than medicine, but they contained an unimaginably heavy question within: Why.

[eulchu]

on ao3!

“Liam.”

Another knock on the door. Liam pulls the covers up to his ears.

“You’re being ridiculous now, c’mon.”

He rolls his eyes. Always so dramatic, his best friend. Overthinks too much for his own good – Liam is fine. He’s so fine a photo of his face is featured on the dictionary under the word. Absolutely dandy.

“Liam.”

“Jesus Christ.” He groans under his breath, sitting up on the bed. “It’s fucking open! Just stop yelling.”

Mason stands at the doorway, squinting into Liam’s dark room like it’s the first time he sees it. See? Dramatic.

“Wow.” Mason says after a moment. “You look-”

Liam’s death glare shuts him up. He lifts his hands in mock-surrender, moving to sit next to Liam on top of the covers. “What’s going on with you?”

He huffs at the question. “Nothing.”

Mason gestures around them. The closed off curtains, the hoodie at the foot of the bed that Liam knows for a fact reeks of sweat. There’s a sad looking bag of Doritos next to his pillow too. “This doesn’t look like nothing.”

Liam rolls his eyes again. With a long suffered sigh he reaches for the bedside table, where a piece of paper has been resting for the past two days. It’s always there, every time Liam glances towards the side of the bed, and the words in it makes him want to rip it in pieces and throw them out the window one by one.

He passes it to Mason.

“What-?” Mason looks at the note with a frown. “What is this?”

Liam’s answer is muffled by the sheets.

“I did not catch any of that, dude.”

“I said,” Liam tries again, lifting his head off the bed “that Theo left.”

Liam doesn’t need to look at his best friend to know the look he’s sporting on his face. Mouth half open, tongue tied like it’s fighting a losing battle with his brain over what to say.

“This- this is why you’re moping?” Mason asks incredulously. “How many chapters did I miss? I was only gone for the weekend.”

Liam shrugs quietly.

He’s not moping. He’s not.

This is just a vacation – well deserved at that, after fucking risking his life enough times in the past three months that he’ll have a permanent emotional scar for life. It has nothing to do with the way his heartbeat dropped for half a second when the stupid little note got to his hands.

Or maybe it does. Just a little. It stings, how Theo just… left. Because he left. He’s having a hard time trying to wrap his head around it.

“Liam, what the fuck? It’s Theo.”

“Yeah, you think I don’t know that?” He snaps. A headache from another life grows between his eyebrows – it’s a weird feeling, almost like it should be there, making his head pound, but it’s not. He scrubs his face. “Fuck. Theo is also the person who stopped me from killing someone. Twice.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence where Mason looks at him like he’s high, and Liam is only trying to figure out why he had the impulse to defend the pride of an asshole who left roughly ten hours after he made Liam believe that he wouldn’t.

See you around, my ass. What a dick.

“Right. Guess it’s like situational jokes.” Mason settles with, “you have to be there.”

Liam gives his shoulder a soft shove, smiling against his will. “Idiot.”

Mason grins back at him, mirth in his eyes that screams ‘you knew that already, why are you surprised?’. The familiarity in them makes Liam’s insides relax a little.

“Dude,” Mason’s hand hoovers in the air awkwardly for a second, before finally settling around Liam’s bicep “what is this really about?”

Liam closes his eyes.

Flashes of blood and yelling plays over his eyelids like a symphony. Exploding hands, tingling bones out of control that make him mad for no reason. There’s never a reason, is the thing. Never good enough to justify it.

A heartbeat, then two. Calmness. Then only one again, and blinding rage, until a new steady heartbeat had registered through the haze. Pacifying.

And now it wasn’t there anymore.

Liam sits up slowly, facing Mason. “The thing is- with Theo, he…” he says to his hands, playing with his fingers on his lap. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “You know? And I’m just. Worried. That I’ll go pyscho wolf again, and this time no one will be there to stop me. Scott’s leaving too, I feel like there’s no one…”

Mason interrupts with a squeeze of his arm. “You’re a good person, Liam.”

“But-”

Mason shakes his head. “No, listen. You’re a good person, okay? You wouldn’t be my best friend if you weren’t. Sometimes…” his voice drops, and he shimmies closer to Liam. “Sometimes people feel too much, right here.” He points softly to Liam’s chest. “And it’s difficult to control it.”

Liam takes a stuttering breath, closing his eyes.

“You’ve never- you’re not a monster, Liam. You have it harder than other people, but don’t confuse a struggle with a lost cause. I might not be a supernatural force, but I still have the bat that Stiles gave me. I can totally throw hands with you, dude.” Mason says jokingly, bumping their shoulders together. Liam’s head falls on Mason’s shoulder. “We don’t need Theo. We don’t need anyone, okay? You’re gonna be just fine. The most badass Alpha’s Beta Beacon Hills has ever seen.”

Liam snorts wetly. “Thanks, Mase.”

Mason hums high in his throat, letting his head clink with Liam’s still resting on his shoulder.

No one mentions the implications of his words. If only Stiles knew he had gone and accidentally attached his impulse control to the big bad Chimera of Death he’d be grounded for eternity.

They stare at the ugly curtains of his room for a long time. Eventually, Mason breaks the silence.

“Fuck Theo Raeken.”

Liam lets out a startled laugh at the absolute disdain in his voice.

“Yeah, fuck Theo Raeken.” He muses. Fuck him for leaving Beacon Hills. Fuck him for getting under his skin and ripping it all off on his way out.

Fuck him for making Liam miss him.

“Does it make me a bad person if I say I’m gonna miss him around?”

Mason clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Well, it’s definitely a very questionable person to unload your affection on.” He says carefully, assessing Liam with clear eyes. “But I don’t think so. In a way, I think I might miss him too. That little freak wasn’t all that bad towards the end.”

He wasn’t.

And Liam just-

After everything, he wasn’t all that bad towards the end. After everything, Liam was still willing to be his friend, for some fucking reason. But then Theo had gone and pulled some sketchy shit, again.

“Still a mega asshole though.”

Mason laughs at his side. “Yeah, but that’s just Theo.”

**

A lone wolf never lasts long.

Theo had regretted stepping foot outside of town the second he had passed the ‘you’re now leaving Beacon Hills’ sign. But pride had always been a big monster scratching at the back of his head, and he had never dealt well with being proven wrong, even to himself.

So he had kept driving.

What the fuck was waiting for him in Beacon Hills, anyway? Absolutely fucking nothing. Which wasn’t different from anywhere else in the world, honestly. At least anywhere else didn’t force him to wear the weight of his mistakes on his shoulders. Not as long as he could ignore them.

A lone wolf is always dead prey. He knows that. Tells himself over and over again in the dead of the night, parked in suburban neighborhoods and dead-end streets. Needs the reminder to keep going.

He just wants-

If he’s going to die (and fuck, the thought terrifies him. Makes his hands shake against the steering wheel), he wants a chance at living. As selfish as it sounds, as short as it may be.

So he drives, gambles for money. Sleeps in open fields and watches the sunset sitting in the hood of his truck. Runs in the woods until his legs burn and his brain is too exhausted to form a coherent thought. Until there’s no pain inside his head.

Tara visits him in his dreams sometimes, silky voice traveling to his ears like poisoned honey. Do you deserve a chance, Theo? Do you really? she asks with a toothy grin, before sinking her claws in his chest.

Theo always wakes up between heavy breaths and no answer to her question. The thing about your newfound humanity, that no one tells you about, is how the guilt consumes you until you’re 6 foot under, gasping for air.

In his worst moments, he thinks about Liam. He drives, and drives, and crosses towns and changes states, and thinks of death, and guilt, and Liam.

Liam, whom he hurt the most. Liam, whom he fucked over the most, and the person he still couldn’t stay away from out of fucking decency. Liam, who carved a hope-shaped hole in his heart and built a commune there. Who still hasn’t called, and probably won’t, because he’s good.

And Theo isn’t.

Still, he keeps his phone plugged to the car charger all day. Still, he makes sure the sound is on and checks the connection multiple times just in case. Hoping the screen will light up. It doesn’t, and Theo’s laughs turn more hollowed the further he drives.

So he continues moving. He continues stealing and seeing new places and swimming in rivers, looking for the slightest hint of internal peace before his time comes.

**

In the end, it only takes a week. One week of radio-silence. More than enough time for his skin to crawl at just how alone he truly is.

Much to his disappointment, the text doesn’t come from Liam, but from Scott. Something about a remaining warehouse from the war, and a weapons disposal that they have to dismantle.

Why they need Theo’s help for that, he doesn’t know. And he doesn’t question it. (He breaks the speed limit a couple times, enough to feel embarrassed at how eager he is to go back to Beacon Hills. Enough to want to stay, until he remembers he’s not wanted unless he’s useful. He’s not wanted.)

When he gets to the clinic he’s received with mostly polite nods and a smile of acknowledgment from Scott. If Liam is surprised at seeing him there, he doesn’t show it- he gives the same treatment as everyone else, a simple silent nod of the head.

The words go flying over Theo’s head. A lot of planning, suitcases and trucks (that’s where he comes useful, he guesses). The atmosphere is less tense now that there’s not an imminent threat breathing down their necks; there’s even space for some well-timed jokes along the speech that everyone laughs at, except him, who keeps his gaze fixed on the floor the whole meeting.

Theo shifts his weight from one leg to the other in the far corner of the room, watching as everyone (Liam) gets ready to leave. He still hasn’t directed a glance his way. Not even to curse him out. With the amount of people in the room it’s hard to pick out which emotion belongs to Liam – if he had to guess he would say it’s indifference.

Instead, Liam has been over in his own little corner bonding with the kid he had to stop Liam from killing. Who he had to stop from killing Liam. Because apparently he’s part of the happy family now too.

It only hurts a little.

“You know, if you don’t wanna be here you can go. We can probably do without you.”

Theo scoffs, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Mason. The words come without any bite, he realizes, which he finds weird. But not weird enough to make him turn around and leave.

“What’s the kid doing here?” He asks instead, pointing towards Liam and his new bud. “You guys really have no self-preservation skills whatsoever, do you?”

Mason follows his line of vision, smiling slightly. “He’s fine. He didn’t even kill anyone. He’s actually kind of cool.”

“He tried to kill your best friend on multiple occasions.”

Mason whistles. “High words coming from a mass murderer who tried the same thing, don’t you think?”

And he has a point, is the thing. Again though, the words come out loosely. Almost playful? It confuses Theo to no end, whose last interaction with Mason had been the human screaming at his face that he didn’t care about anything but himself.

“I didn’t wanna kill him.” He puffs in lieu of response. Because he’s reached the low level where he justifies himself to people like Mason. “I wanted to manipulate him. It’s how I show affection.”

Mason snorts incredulously. “Weren’t you planning on killing him after he became the Alpha?”

Theo clenches his jaw. Apparently there’s a line between past mistakes he’s fine bringing up and ones that feel like a fatal punch to his chest. This is one of them. The loose atmosphere vanishes.

“Obviously a poor call in the unfortunate course of events.” He mutters between his teeth, crossing his arms over his chest. “Also, I never said letting me in here was a good idea.”

Mason assesses him for a second, looking at him through hooded eyes as Theo shifts awkwardly. Looking like he knows something Theo doesn’t.

“So do you also show your affection by leaving without saying goodbye?” He finally asks, careful eyes looking back and forth between Theo’s facial features.

The question takes Theo off guard.

“I- the fuck do you care?” He mutters, almost defensively. “And I didn’t leave. I’m here aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not.” Mason shoots a glance towards Liam. “You just abandoned a puppy with anger issues, heartless fucker.”

Theo takes a step back in confusion. “No I didn’t.” He says. He didn’t. He left him a note, he told him he’d be there whenever. That’s not.

He can’t have fucked up with Liam again. Can he?

“I told him to call me if he needed anything.” He says quietly.

“Yeah, like that’s gonna work with Liam.” Mason huffs. He gets in Theo’s space, challenging him. “Listen here my dude-“

Despite the thousand thoughts in Theo’s head, he challenges back. “I’m not your fucking dude.”

Mason takes a step closer, clasping Theo in his shoulder, his thumb digging in his collarbone. If Theo really wanted to, he could break his wrist in three different places. But then he looks at Liam and thinks against it, because he’s weak. And he doesn’t really wanna hurt Mason. Still he reaches for Mason’s hand, slapping it away with a dangerous look. “Don’t touch me, Mason.”

“Then stop being a massive bitch! Liam has been pissy-pissy since you left. And you don’t look too happy about me saying this, so I’m gonna assume you care at least a little bit. I don’t know what the fuck you guys’ vibe is but get your head out of your ass before it’s too late. Imbecile.”

Theo grits his teeth together until his jaw aches. “You’re risking a lot here insulting and pushing around the guy who almost got everyone in this room killed.”

Mason almost looks like he’s gonna laugh. It takes everything in Theo not to punch him in the jaw. He breathes through his nose, once, twice.

“Please, you’re not gonna punch me.”

“And you’re oh, so sure of that, why?”

He looks at Theo funny.

“Liam would get mad at you.” Like it’s that simple.

Well.

“Fair enough.” He says under his breath for no one but him to hear, blunt nails digging at the palm of his hands for effect.

Something has changed here. He’s not sure how, or why, but it has. He wrecks his mind trying to figure it out, but comes out blank every time. The quiet murmur of Liam and Nolan still chatting makes it harder to think.

Mason is off the books, but maybe… if he is smart enough he could sneak in a punch to the kid’s nose.

He sighs. Probably not, not in broad daylight.  

He doesn’t notice Mason is still leaning against the wall with him until he speaks again.

“What’s with him and sticking to kids who profusely want him dead anyway?” He asks directly to Theo, making a face. “You reckon it’s a kink thing?”

Theo doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or scream at that. He pushes himself off the wall without conceding him one last look.

“Goodbye Mason.”

-

Somehow, because his life has been a fucking tasteless joke this whole time, he ends in the car with Liam on the ride back. The guy who hasn’t looked at him in the eye since they left the clinic. The only guy he’d have in the car with him and not hate every second of it.

Liam smells like cinnamon and strawberry soap (home), and something Theo doesn’t quite recognize (Nolan) (probably not Nolan. He doesn’t think they’re so close that his scent lingers, but the thought alone makes his veins burn) and it pisses him off.

He’s got a lot of things clinging to the tip of his tongue. But he always does, when it comes to Liam. Always wants to tell him anything and everything, keep him talking – it’s almost a personal challenge, letting Liam talk, and talk, and trying to keep up with it. But no one’s talking this time.

Liam clears his throat in the front seat. Theo has to smile at his attempt at being subtle, but just kind of ends up sounding like a cat choking.

“Sooo...”

He risks a look at Liam. Neon-light reflections shining across his face from the dark road, he’s got the face of someone who sucked on a lemon voluntarily, and would do it again. He’s looking back at Theo with a grimace that Theo is unfamiliar with.

It’s either reluctance or blood with them. This is new.

“Hi.” Liam squeaks at last, when their eyes meet.

Theo lets a small smirk grow in his face. “Hello, Liam.” He says calmly, returning his attention to the road.

“How are, uh- things?”

Horrible. Loneliness might kill me, and every night Tara comes visit to remind me she’ll be the one to come rip my chest when I’m dead.

But better, too, because no one’s there, and I don’t have to act like I’m invincible.

He taps the side of the steering wheel softly.

“Good.”

“Good, good!” Liam shifts uncomfortably in his seat, nodding along far too many times to be considered conventional. It amuses Theo to no end. “That’s, uh, good.”

Then he’s flashing a big awkward smile Theo’s way, like he got something right, and he’s proud of it. Theo resists the urge to face-palm. What a fucking joke. The mass murderer, helpless against a puppy boy-man with explosive bursts of anger and little social abilities that don’t include fighting it out.

There they are again, all the things he wants to tell Liam. About his trip, and the things he’s seen. He’s got some pictures in his phone actually, that he took in a rush fever, as if he’d ever get the chance to show them to anyone. But he keeps his mouth shut, like a fucking imbecile.

Because Liam makes him feel weird things. A little nervous, after so long (A week. Where’s your self-respect, Raeken?). Even if it pains him to admit it.

Maybe Mason was onto something, after all.

Liam has resolved to making weird wet noises with his mouth like a fucking toddler. Theo is torn between crashing the car into a tree and smashing Liam’s face against the dashboard, to save them both from the wreck of a ride that this is.

“Has it always been this awkward?” Liam asks after a while.

“Has it?”

They’re almost at Liam’s. Only two other roads, and the burgundy roof of Liam’s house will be visible from the car. He would know, he’s driven these streets enough to map out every little detail. It’s almost enough to make him take a turn and drive the opposite way, so he can keep Liam to himself for a little while.

Because even if…

Even if Liam isn’t the Liam from a week ago. Even if he screwed up by leaving, he still smells like comfort. He still makes Theo’s heart calm. He still makes Theo feel more human than he does around anyone else.

Because Liam isn’t scared of him, for some horrible and irresponsible reason. Because Mason thinks his best friend was affected by him leaving, and he wonders if he should’ve stayed, after all. If Liam really wanted him around. He thinks he could stick around, if Liam wanted him to (it’s not a shocking revelation. It’s just embarrassing as fuck).

“I don’t know…”

One road down, one to go. The ticking of a non-existent clock echoes in Theo’s mind.

He risks another look at Liam.

Ask me to stay. Ask me, ask me, ask me.

“Listen, Liam-”

“I’m glad you left!” Liam bursts out.

Theo’s hands turn cold. The car gives a jerk.

He looks at Liam with shock in his face. “…don’t sugarcoat it.”

Liam looks back with terrified eyes. “No! No, no, I mean - I’m glad you got out of here. Not that I’m happy you’re gone!” He gestures wildly, almost hitting Theo in the face. “But I am, you know? Just. Beacon Hills isn’t good for anyone, so.”

Well fuck.

“I…”

“Don’t let Scott rope you into too much shit, is what I’m trying to say. You don’t owe us anything.”

Theo snorts to himself, focusing back to the road like he almost didn’t accidentally crash them into the other lane. “Well, I kind of do. In case you forgot-”

“Yeah yeah I know, you tried to kill Scott. And we put you in hell. I think it makes us even.”

The easy brush-off doesn’t sit well with Theo. He doubts the pack would appreciate it, and not for the first time he wonders how forgiving works to normal people. If this is forgiveness, or forgetfulness.

Sometimes he wants to shake Liam around and ask him things like “how can you even look at me, after saying shit like that. I can’t even look at myself sometimes.” And “why did you accept to fight with me? How do you see past the blood in my hands?”

“Thanks.” He mutters awkwardly in return.

Liam’s fingers brush his shoulder in a feather touch. Theo doesn’t have the guts to turn and read the expression in his face.

“So, how is it? You know, away?”

The fingers around the wheel tighten. “Good, kind of. Calm, calmer than here for sure.” He chuckles lightly, because it’s the social cue that’s expected of you. Liam’s smile at it makes him want to laugh until he throws up. “Freeing. You’d like it, I think.”

Because he genuinely thinks he would. Because Liam is Liam, and loneliness wouldn’t eat him from the inside. Because even if he goes missing two weeks, in the middle of fucking Amazonas, he’d have people looking for him. Waiting for him.

And again he’s reminded that he made the best decision by leaving. That he has no one, here or there, so it doesn’t matter where he stays, and at least out of this town he can breathe more easily. That loneliness will always catch up to him.

He thought he was condemned to feel Tara’s hands inside his chest forever. Maybe his real punishment was to be alone. Maybe it’s both.

“I’d like to, someday. I’ve always wanted to travel.”

Maybe if this was a movie, and Theo was the redeemed character, Liam would smile at him, and take his hand, and say “with you. With you, with you, with you. It wouldn’t make sense if it’s not with you.”

But it’s not. So Theo’s hands stay cold.

As they pass the last street before Liam’s. As he pulls up to Liam’s door. They stay cold.

“Thanks for the ride.” Liam whispers.

He doesn’t open the door, and Theo doesn’t want him to. Selfish, he tells himself. In one way or another, you’ll always find a way to use someone for the price of your own happiness.

“No problem. For the sake of old times, yeah?” He says, and doesn’t dare look at Liam in the eye.

The door of the truck opens. Theo bares himself for the blow.

“This truck.” Liam starts instead, still inside the car. Dragging it out. “Towards the end I spent so long in here.” He shakes his head, putting foot on the ground. “I don’t know, anyway. Until next time.”

“Yeah,” Theo swallows. “Wait Liam-”

Selfish.

“What’s up?”

“Uh, your shirt has been inside-out this whole time. You look fucking stupid.”

Liam looks back at Theo, then down at his t-shirt. He laughs. “Fuck you too, Raeken.”

Theo allows himself one smile.

“Night, dickhead. Drive safely.”

“Goodnight.”

He tells himself that watching Liam disappear behind the door is therapeutic. Get used to watching him leave, because you’ll watch him leave a lot.

(But a part of him knows. Watch him leave, hurt, and go fuck yourself.)

[clumsyclifford]

“I got my ass kicked but you held the ice” jalex?

sure thing, anon. i've been watching a lot of bones lately so maybe that explains...i dunno. the vibe here.

tw for minor blood & injuries, mentions of alcohol

read here on ao3

-

There’s blood on Jack’s face.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” feels like the right first question.

Jack staggers into the open seat across from Alex. “Got slugged.”

“You sound proud.”

“I am.”

“But you’re bleeding,” Alex says, aghast. He’s out of his seat and sliding in beside Jack before he can even really think. “Why— why are you bleeding? From getting punched?”

Jack shrugs and winces. Alex looks closer, hesitant to touch him. “Dude had rings or something. Hurt like a bitch.”

“You got scratched,” Alex says. Even he can hear the concern seeping into his voice, but if Jack notices he doesn’t seem to care. “Jack, you should clean this. We— you should let me clean this.”

“No, it’s cool.”

“Uh, I actually wasn’t giving you the option,” Alex says. He wraps an arm around Jack’s forearm and pulls him out of the booth. The seating area is far enough from the bar that Alex can justify somehow missing whatever scuffle Jack got into when he was supposedly getting them both drinks, but he wishes he hadn’t. Trust Jack to get into a fight the moment he’s left to his own devices.

“This isn’t necessary,” Jack says once they’ve reached the bathroom, though he’s letting Alex manhandle him anyway, which Alex appreciates. On account of the fact that it feels extremely necessary.

“You’re fucking bleeding from your face, I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to do that,” says Alex, casting a glance around for anything to wash Jack’s face off with.

“And I’m supposed to bleed from other places?”

“No! No places.” Alex hits him on the arm. “No bleeding at all. Wanna tell me what happened? You were gone for like five minutes. I thought you were getting another round.”

“I was.”

Alex raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Well you obviously didn’t succeed, so what the fuck gives?”

“Got into a fight,” Jack says.

“That’s unlike you.”

“Do not use your fucking shirt to clean my bloody face,” Jack says, ignoring Alex, and Alex stalls in his motion lifting the hem of his shirt.

“Why not?”

“Oh my God, think rationally? You’ll ruin your shirt?”

“You got into a bar fight and you’re telling me to think rationally?”

“It hardly counts as a bar fight,” Jack says, and then sighs heavily. “Use mine. It’s black, it won’t show up, and I’m pretty sure there’s blood on it already anyway.”

Alex presses his lips together and frowns. The blood on Jack’s face isn’t really dripping. “How could there be blood on your shirt?”

Jack lifts his shoulders, shrugging off his leather jacket into Alex’s outstretched hand. “Dude pushed me.”

“...You said he punched you.”

“He did. And then pushed me, you know, with his fists, you know.”

“So he punched you again.”

“No, no, he—” Jack frowns. “I don’t know, who cares?”

“Me! I care! Who the fuck did you fight with? And why? And can I kill him?”

“No, it was stupid, and it doesn’t matter,” Jack says. “Answered your questions in reverse order.” He crosses his arms across his chest and tugs his shirt up over his head, offering it up to Alex inside-out.

“Well, at least you recognize that it was stupid,” Alex mutters. He steers Jack towards the sink counter. “Sit.”

“Come on,” Jack complains. “This is ridiculous. It’s just blood.”

“Everything you say makes me more worried about your well-being. Do you have no sense of self-preservation? Can I never actually leave you alone again?”

“It’s blood, I’ve bled a million times,” Jack says, exasperated. “And for the record, it was noble.”

“Really? Or was it stupid?”

“Can’t it have been both?” Jack sighs, and tilts his head back to look at the ceiling.

Alex grabs his chin and pulls his head back down. “Maybe. Can’t make a judgement until I know what you got into a fight about. And you have to look at me so I can clean your fucking face, which is bleeding, which is generally regarded as bad.”

“Sorry, mom.”

Alex runs Jack’s shirt under the faucet until it’s soaked through. He wrings out the excess water. “Sit still.”

“Okay, mom.”

Alex rolls his eyes. If it gets Jack to listen, Alex will accept being called mom. He’d like to think that cleaning a friend’s injuries is a thing that any decent human being would do, not just a mother. Not that it really matters. The point is it’s an Alex thing that he’s now doing for Jack.

It’s not something he’d ever anticipated doing. Jack’s not the type to get into fights. He’s a little bit of a thrill-seeker, sure, but he’s not an idiot. Which is why Alex really does kind of believe the fight may have been noble. Jack wouldn’t pick a fight for a stupid reason, but for a noble reason? Sure. Why not.

Jack hisses as Alex starts dabbing the wet t-shirt at his bloody face. His jaw tenses under Alex’s fingertips until finally he mutters, “Okay, ow, stop, stop it, that really hurts, can’t I do it myself?”

Alex’s hand drops from Jack’s face. “I’ll be more careful.”

“You’re not the problem. It’s— I got fucking decked. Everything hurts.” Jack casts a sidelong glance at Alex and exhales loudly. “Give me your hand, I’ll just do the squeeze-when-it-hurts thing.”

Alex offers up his left hand. “You sure?”

Their fingers interlace. Jack nods slowly. “Yeah. Go. I did this to myself.”

“Technically speaking, that dude you fought with did this to you,” Alex mumbles absently as he resumes his task. Jack groans and his grip on Alex’s hand becomes viselike. Alex does what he can, but it’s hard without another hand to keep Jack’s head stable. It’s also hard when his hand is being literally crushed.

“Ow,” Alex says, snatching his hand away. “Jesus, JB, you’ve got a fucking grip.”

“Sorry.”

“I need this hand,” Alex says, semi-apologetically. He’d be more apologetic if Jack hadn’t just been liquifying the bones in his hand. “You keep moving.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“No, I know that. I just—”

“Okay, it’s fine,” Jack mutters. “It’s fine.”

As delicately as he can manage it, Alex settles his fingers along Jack’s jaw, tilting his head in the most convenient direction. Jack continues bemoaning how painful this is, and Alex tunes it out. If it gets desperate, he’s sure Jack will hit him or something.

No assault occurs. Alex gets all of the blood off Jack’s face without further incident. “Okay,” he finally breathes. The sigh of relief that escapes Jack makes his posture fall. Slumped over with his elbows on his knees, he looks suddenly exhausted.

“I think that hurt more than being punched.”

“I doubt it,” Alex says. He rubs a sympathetic hand over Jack’s shoulders. They’re secluded, as much as they can be in the bathroom of a bar. Underwater by the way the walls muffle the music and chatter. Dim light washes over Jack. “Let’s go home.”

“No, we don’t have to.”

“I’m ready to leave and I think you are too.”

“Sorry,” Jack says quietly. “I wasn’t trying to ruin the night.”

“You didn’t.”

“We were just supposed to be getting a drink.”

“I have to say, I think I’m more impressed that you got into a fight while mostly sober.”

“I think I regret it.” Jack winces and curls further into himself. “And now I’m also cold.”

“Here,” Alex says, tugging his arms out of his flannel. “We can go back to my place. Watch a movie. Throw your bloody shirt into the laundry.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack says again.

Alex shakes his head. “I’m sure you had your reasons.”

“It was stupid.”

“You know, I want to believe that, but I just don’t,” Alex says, sighing deeply. “I actually believe it was infuriatingly noble, because you are just that kind of person.”

Jack glances at Alex as he begins buttoning up the flannel. Looks back at the floor. “I don’t know if it was noble. I could have left it alone. That would’ve been the smart thing to do.”

“Hey, I didn’t say it was smart. I’m sure it wasn’t.” Alex squeezes Jack’s knee and Jack looks up at him, surprised at the gesture. A small, almost indiscernible smile tugs at his lips.

“Some creep at the bar hitting on the bartender,” he admits. “Being really gross, really loud. Clearly making her uncomfortable. I said I was her boyfriend. Told him to back off. Guy didn’t like that.” He shrugs. “I pushed him, he punched me. Guess that was cause enough to get him kicked out. I mean, they should probably have kicked me out, too, but…the bartender seemed grateful.”

A soft smile crosses Alex’s face despite himself. “So I was right. It was noble.”

“Worth it,” Jack mumbles. “I hate creepy guys in bars. Ruining the experience for all of us. And look, I get hitting on a bartender, but don’t push it when she says no, you know? Anyway. I’d do it again.”

Alex reaches up and flips the collar of the flannel down, and his eyes meet Jack’s. “Did you get her number?”

Jack looks confused. “I didn’t want it. I was just being decent, you know.”

“Oh.” That’s new. Jack loves to collect phone numbers. Feeds his ego or something.

“‘Oh,’ what?”

“No, nothing, I’m just surprised,” Alex says, adjusting the collar. Jack shifts his shoulders. “You’re usually all over that shit.”

“Yeah, well. I’m…otherwise preoccupied. Not interested in a random hookup.”

“What?” Alex fakes a gasp, pretends to be positively scandalized. “What have you done with Jack Barakat?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Well? Preoccupied with who? I won’t tell.”

“That’s true, you won’t,” Jack says. “Because I’m not telling you.”

“What? Jack! I swear.”

“It’s not that I think you’re going to tell anyone,” Jack says, rolling his eyes and his sleeves. “What are we, eleven? I just don’t want to say. It’s complicated. I’m still thinking about it.”

Alex squints. “Someone I know?”

“Declining to answer any of your questions starting now.”

“Sure, sure. But is it someone I know?”

“Alex.”

“Okay, fine,” Alex says. “Don’t tell me.”

“Same page,” Jack says dryly, gesturing between them. Alex steps away and gives Jack a critical once-over.

“Let’s go home,” he says. “You should put ice on that.”

Jack slides off the sink counter. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go.”

They’d anticipated being drunk on the way home, so they have to catch a cab. Jack winces when he thinks Alex isn’t looking, and Alex does him the courtesy of pretending not to see. It’s not until they’re back at Alex’s apartment, under the bright living room lights, that the bruise on Jack’s face becomes apparent.

Even Alex winces. “Oh, shit,” he says. He reaches for Jack without thinking and only stops himself just before his fingers graze Jack’s face. “That’s…damn. That’s a shiner.”

“Thank you,” Jack says. “People find this kind of thing hot, right?”

“Uh, damaged people, I guess,” Alex says. Like he’s not, at that exact moment, trying to suppress the thought that it is hot. So is Jack in his flannel. Alex already knows he’s damaged.

“Cool,” Jack says.

Alex wraps an ice pack from the freezer in a dish towel — not that anyone’s counting, but he’s fairly certain it belongs to Rian — and brings it back to the couch. The TV is on. Jack is flicking through titles on Netflix.

“Here,” says Alex. He sits next to Jack and Jack makes as if to take the ice pack, but Alex shakes his head. “I’ve got it.”

“You don’t have to. I’m a big boy. I can hold my own ice pack.”

“I know,” Alex says. He can’t quite figure out why he’s so dead set on doing it anyway, but Jack must read it in his tone, because he turns back to the TV without arguing.

“What are we watching?”

“Dunno, what’s on?”

“The entire Netflix library.”

“A constantly-changing selection,” says Alex, and braces the back of Jack’s head with his free hand. Jack leans into the touch. “Criminal Minds?”

“Great choice,” Jack says. He flinches when Alex holds the ice to his face, but only for a second. Alex is steady and then Jack is too. The Criminal Minds cover fills the TV screen. “Not a movie, but arguably better.”

“I don’t think that’s arguable,” Alex says quietly. Even with the dish towel, the ice is starting to make Alex’s hand cold. He doesn’t mention it.

Jack hits play on whatever episode of the show has come up. They’ve both watched this show all the way through, but it’s nice to have a show like that to share. On the one hand, neither of them ever tire of it. On the other, they’ve seen it all before, which means they don’t have to become invested or pay close attention.

Jack leans into Alex as the episode starts. Alex’s arm wraps around Jack’s shoulders. They stay that way until the episode ends, and Alex would call it convenient for holding the ice pack, but he sets the ice pack down about six minutes in, whispering that he can’t feel his fingers.

In response, Jack sandwiches Alex’s hand between his own without a word. Alex doesn’t say anything.

He sort of doesn’t think he needs to.

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 13- Icarus

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warning for very slight suicidal themes this fic has a happy ending I swear

Masterlist

Agony.

Losing you is agony.

Endeavor is lecturing him for pulling the stunt with Bakugo earlier that day but he can’t hear or really process any of it when all he can think about is the fact you’ve blocked his number and seem to want nothing to do with him. He vaguely registers words of “I told you so” and “I warned you” and even a word or two about a demotion but none of it matters. Hawks doesn’t know how to do anything but be a hero. It’s been the driving force behind a lot of the choices he’s made in your relationship and he knows it’s the same for you, but that doesn’t make any of this easier.

“You’re going to have to work really hard to earn my trust back Hawks and the trust of your coworkers,” Endeavor warns. “Understood,” Hawks replies, his voice almost detached. It seems to disconcert Endeavor, the other man being far more accustomed to the snarky Hawks persona than the serious man in front of him now. “Hawks, uhm, do you,” Endeavor stutters suddenly unsure. He coughs to cover his discomfort and clears his throat before resuming. “Do you need to talk about what happened between you and Artemis?” he finally manages to ask. He looks so deeply uncomfortable potentially talking about the subject and his discomfort only grows when Hawks continues to give him nothing back. “That won’t be necessary,” Hawks replies before turning and walking out of the office. If Hawks doesn’t know how to live without hero work, Keigo doesn’t know how to live without you. So his only option is to abandon Keigo until the pain stops.

He can’t have slept more than a handful of hours that night but he still wakes up early the next morning to run an extra patrol before his normally scheduled one. He files paperwork, even revisits old cases, all in a bid to keep you off his mind. Of course it’s not enough to stop his coworkers from whispering. Typically he ignores the gossip of the lower ranking heroes but it’s hard when he knows they’re speculating about you and him. It certainly doesn’t help that your break up was so public and now it feels like nearly all of Japan has watched the video of it happening. Hawks used to be the darling of Endeavor’s agency, beloved by all of his coworkers. Now he’s practically a pariah.

His new outcast status is only made more obvious at the cocktail party later that day. He’d wanted to skip it entirely, the fact you were supposed to be his plus one to the event made it all the more unappealing, but he’s already skating on thin ice and had no legitimate excuse to justify his absence. So instead he watches the other heroes talk and drink and laugh about things while he hides in the corner, too exhausted and heartbroken to put up the persona necessary to maintain conversation. No one seems to ask about him anyway or even care what he thinks despite the fact it’s his personal life that’s become the hottest topic in all of Japan. He wonders if this is how Icarus felt as he plummeted to the earth. Hawks had flown too close to your light and warmth and now he’s fallen from grace. He wonders if it’s true that Icarus laughed as he fell. If so he can empathize. As painful as this fall is, he would live it over and over if it meant he could catch even a glimpse of you again.

When Shoto comes to join him it’s literally the first genuine interaction he’s had all day. “You look like shit,” Shoto comments by way of greeting. “Thanks. Feel like it too,” Hawks replies. He doesn’t have to pretend with Shoto and for that he’s grateful. “Are you ok?” Shoto asks. “Even though I’ve always hated these things I was always so good at them,” Hawks starts in response. “I’d talk, drink, laugh just like everyone’s doing, be the center of attention, play the part of the charming number two hero. And look at me now. I’m so fucking anxious about what they’ll say about me, about her, about us and what happened that I can’t have a proper fucking conversation. I used to be on fire and now I’m standing in the ashes of who I used to be and I’m just fading away. Without her I’m fading away. I’m just as pathetic as she said,” Keigo confesses and it’s a weight off but it also makes the hollow space behind his ribs where you used to live feel all the more prominent. “This right here is kind of pathetic,” Shoto starts, earning him a shocked almost laugh from the other man, “but you are not pathetic Hawks. I think (y/n) knows that, she’s just hurting. Rightfully so. The bullshit with the others in the agency will get better too.” “I don’t know about that one.” “You’re not the only one who’s done dumb or bad shit. Not by a long shot.” “Really?” “You know Iida?” Shoto asks, pointing to the man in question as he obliviously continues his conversation with one of the others present. “Yea. Your year at UA, stickler for the rules. What about him?” Hawks asks. “He chose his internship our first year with the sole intention of trying to hunt down and kill Stain to avenge his brother.” “Really? That guy?” “Yep. My dad isn’t so innocent either: quirk marriage, child abuse, oh the stories I could tell you.” “Jesus Christ.” “Exactly. Everyone has their own shit Hawks. This will pass and hopefully you and (y/n) can find your ways back to each other when it does.”

Shortly after Todoroki finishes speaking his phone rings and he frowns down in confusion when he notices it’s Bakugo calling him. “I didn’t think we had task force business today,” Shoto says as he answers the phone. “We don’t. Is Hawks there with you?” Bakugo asks, his tone betraying his worry. “Yea he is.” “Shit.” “What’s going on Bakugo?” “It’s about (y/n),” Bakugo admits and Shoto’s eyes widen. He casts a look at Hawks before finally deciding to drag the other man with him to an empty office on the floor they’re currently on. He locks the door behind them and then pops his phone on speaker. “Ok you’re on speaker with me and Hawks what’s going on with (y/n)?” Shoto asks, his voice remaining calm. “All Might fired her last night so she was supposed to come in this morning and collect her stuff except instead she pretty much just threw everything away. I came back to patrol and found out she’d left Midoriya and I little gifts on our desk which was weird, so I hit up her roommates and apparently she never went home after she swung by here. I thought she and Hawks may have run off together but if he’s with you...” Bakugo explains. “Maybe she’s just clearing her head or something,” Shoto suggests. “No way. The whole of Japan is gossiping about her right now, the last thing she’d want is to be out in public,” Bakugo quickly refutes. “Was there anything else off about your desks? Drawers opened?” Hawks asks. “Maybe, I wasn’t paying that much attention. Why?” Bakugo asks. “Your task force notes still there?” Hawks asks in lieu of an answer. Hawks and Shoto wait with baited breath as they hear the sound of Bakugo moving around and then opening a desk drawer. “Nope, they’re gone,” Bakugo finally reports back. “Thought so. (Y/n) wouldn’t just roll over and kiss her career goodbye, she’s probably trying to take out the terrorist cell herself and use it as leverage to get her job back,” Hawks deduces. “Alone? That’s a suicide mission,” Shoto says. “Hence the gifts on the desks,” Hawks replies grimly. “Most of our notes are over there with you guys though,” Bakugo points out. As if on cue an alarm starts blaring overhead warning of an intruder. “That’s gotta be her,” Hawks says. “I’m on my way, hold her there so we can talk some sense into that idiot,” Bakugo tells them before promptly hanging up the phone.

Hawks has to give credit where credit is due. As foolhardy as your plan is, it’s incredibly well executed. As a former member of the guest list, you would’ve known everyone would be occupied with the cocktail party on one of the lower floors, far away from where the files you need are. The elevators will take forever with so many people trying to all get upstairs which only leaves the stairs, which are marginally better but still relatively slow. You must have spent most of the night planning this out. That thought fills Hawks with a certain amount of dread. You’re probably emotional and sleep deprived on your way to take on an entire villain group yourself all in a desperate bid to save your career. It almost sounds ludicrous. Yet, as Hawks races to the top floor in hopes of catching you, all he can think of is something you’d once told him during happier times, late at night as you two were wrapped up in each other:

“Honestly Kei? I’d rather die a hero than live long enough to prove those stupid reporters right about me.”

Author’s Note: Does this still count as a double update if I’m posting the second one after midnight 💀 anyway I can’t believe how quickly I was able to get this chapter out. The image of Hawks standing in the corner of a massive company party feeling like a shell of himself is actually a large part of what sold me on writing this fic for him. The song this chapter correlates to just felt so right for his character that I knew it couldn’t be anyone else. I thought about waiting to post this until later tomorrow today? but I’m ✨impatient✨ so instead y’all get it now

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13

[aewhore]

Tunnel Vision ~ Eddie Kingston x reader

*WARNING* THIS IS SUPER ANGSTY (and probably badly written) 

Author’s Note: This is my first attempt at fanfiction because people seem to like the prompt i posted of “I don’t know who you are anymore” so here’s the story i envisioned for it!!!! ENJOY

Eddie didn't want the AEW championship, he needed it. The hunger he had for that title is what drove him, it’s what powered him to fight every Tuesday and Wednesday night. it guarantees the respect of his so called co-workers who’ve looked down on him since day 1 of joining this company, with that title he could finally get back at all the people who called him a garbage wrestler. 

That’s where your problem was. Eddie had become so fixated on beating- NO! making Moxley quit that he’s changed completely. He’s become bitter, when you two speak on the phone he speaks as if he is being physically burned or tormented by the world he’s created his head. he spends most of his time either pacing a hole into the hotel room carpet or at the daily’s place with the family working on ways to beat Mox. He hasn’t been back to your shared home in  New York in weeks, he claims if he leaves Jacksonville he’ll become distracted and won’t be prepared for Full Gear. You can’t help feel completely neglected, as you yourself are a wrestler but are currently out due to a rotator cuff tear but you’re still helping out backstage as a coach as you feel the dynamite tapings are your only time you get to actually see Eddie anymore. with your injury you need Eddie’s loving support now more than ever but it doesn’t even feel like you rank on his list of priorities. When you see him backstage at dynamite he gives short answers about how he need to focus on winning right now but he’s going to bring the belt back for you and how he is finally going to right all the wrongs that AEW has done and that means making Mox quit, even if it’s the last thing he does 

You and Eddie have been dating for nearly six years at this point, what drew you to Eddie was his honesty, how he spoke his mind and to hell with anyone who didn’t like him, but what made you stay was how loyal he was. He let you see a side of him that not many people get to see, a softer side. You got to see how his beautiful green eyes would soften when he looked at you, as if you were the solution to every problem he’s ever had. You can’t just throw that away! but you’ve also never seen Eddie like this before. Now instead of love or lust in his eyes you only see torment, confusion and hurt. You’ve tried everything at this point and you’re running out of options and sanity. When will enough be enough? 

It's hours before the go home episode of dynamite for Full Gear on Saturday. you’re slowly but surely making your way towards the Family’s dressing room. Tonight was the night you were going to confront Eddie. you were going to give him no escape tonight. He has to talk about what has been happening between the two of you. You let yourself into the dressing room as the guys are used to you looking for Eddie. The room is empty except for Eddie blankly staring at the wall to the left of you as he does his wrist tape. 

“Hey baby, i need to talk to you.” you say as you side step into his eyeline. “listen doll, i don’t have the time ri-” you cut him off before the excuses could start “Well if you don’t have time then you’ll just listen!” you say as you dragged a chair in front of the bench he’s seated on. 

You take a moment to really look Eddie in his forest green eyes that for the first time almost seem blank of emotion, before asking “What’s going on Eddie?” “What do you mean doll?” you breathed out a sigh as you realize this is going to be more difficult than you thought. “what i mean by that Eddie, is that you haven’t spoken to me in weeks and i want to know why?” Eddie was clearly taken off guard by this as his eyebrows creased with confusion “what are talking about? we literally talked this morn-” “NO EDDIE! we didn't talk this morning, I spoke at you and you grunted back at me, i bet you can’t even remember what I said can you? I’ll wait Eddie '' seeing his face turn from shock at you yelling at him to dread as he realized he couldn’t remember a single word you said to him back at the hotel room this morning.  

“Listen doll-” “don’t you doll me Eddie, Jesus Christ Eddie do i even matter to you?” your patience was wearing thinner as the seconds passed. “Don’t say that doll, of course you matter to me! I love you don’t I?” Eddie was chuckling by the end of the sentence. Your eyes fall to flour and you can feel your heart begin to crack. “I don’t know anymore Eddie, do you?”  Eddie’s face fell as he scrambled to put a sentence together. “Doll don’t say that!! i love you more than anything” you knew his actions proved this to be a lie. “if you love me so much why don’t you talk to me? and don’t give me that i need to focus bull shit, we both know that’s shit” Eddie’s resolve was thinning as your ,however justified, questioning wore him down. “Well what the fuck do you want me to say then, Jesus doll, This title is my number one priority until i win it and show everyone that I’m the best in this entire god damn company” your eyes started to well up as you realized that you were coming to a cross road with Eddie. “but you’re already the best to me! is that not enough?” Eddie answers the question before thinking “No it’s not, your approval hasn’t gotten me jack shit in this business” 

If you thought your heart was breaking before, it shattered with this revelation. Your worst nightmare has come true. Eddie doesn’t need nor want you anymore. “Well then... i see how it is... “ as you start to walk out the door, Eddie grabs your arm to pull you back to him and breaks his silence “Wait.. doll i didn’t mean it like that, you know what i meant.” you were fully crying at this stage, “you know what Eddie, No. i don’t know what you meant by that because i don’t even know who you are anymore.” you pull your arm from his grasp. “Doll.... what?! where are you going?” you stop at the doorway to glance back at him “I’m going home to my parents Eddie, I can’t do this anymore. I deserve better than this, I’ll send my brother to pick up my things. I love you, goodbye” you let the door shut behind you as you leave the man you once hoped to be your future, in the past.

[alicemarion]

OUTLAST :  THE  MURKOFF  ACCOUNT  (  PART 2  )   sentence starters !

this  prompt  was  made  using  dialogue  from  issues  #4 ,    #5  and  #6  of  outlast :  the  murkoff  account  by  red  barrels .    feel  free  to  edit  any  of  these  to  make  them  more  suitable !

“  _____  wasn’t  fucking  around  about  disappearing .  ”

“  our  chances  of  finding  a  lead  in  this  are  vanishingly  slim .  ”

“  what  you  got  there ?  ”

“  i  hate  it  when  they  have  families .  ”

“  since  when  did  _____  hurt  women  and  kids ?  ”

“  sorry ,    that  was  in  bad  taste .  ”

“  he’s  been  gone  for  a  while  now .  ”

“  i  saw  him  back  just  last  night .  ”

“  i  saw  him ,     standing  right  over  there .  ”

“  drove  my  dogs  batshit ,    which  is  weird .  ” 

“  they  always  used  to  like  him .  ”

“  _____  said  _____  was  here  last  night .  ”

“  it’d  take  us  days  to  find  him  under  all  this  shit  if  he  was .  ”

“  guess  we  better  get  started  then .  ”

“  it’s  garbage .  ”

“  is  ...    is  some  of  this  garbage  moving ?  ”

“  ants .    the  place  is  infested .  ”

“  what  do  you  mean ?  ”

“  emailed  him  ants .    not  the  strangest  thing  i’ve  seen .  ”

“  these  look  like  passwords .  ”

“  ouch !  ”

“  little  fucker  bit  me .  ”

“  black  ants  don’t  bite .  ”

“  motherfucker !    motherfuckfuckfuck -  ”

“  they’re  all  over  me !    jesus !  ”

“  not  there !    not  there !  ”

“  water !    water !  ”

“  goddammit !    make  room !    i’m  coming  in !  ”

“  fuck  this !  ”

“  it’s  not  working !  ”

“  we  need  fire !  ”

“  take  your  fucking  clothes  off !  ”

“  now  do  me !  ”

“  got  anything  i  could  wear ?  ”

“  nope .  ”

“  what  the  fuck  am  i  gonna  do ?  ”

“  hey ,    that’s  the  same  homeless  guy .  ”

“  that’s  not  possible .  ”

“  i’m  sure  it’s  him .    he’s  following  us .  ”

“  hey !    stop !  ”

“  where’d  you  go  ...   ?  ”

“  you  work  for  _____  ,    don’t  you ?  ”

“  ...    who  are  you ?  ”

“  i  believe  you’ve  heard  of  me .  ”

“  you’ve  been  following  us .  ”

“  what’s  your  name ?  ”

“  yes .    i’ve  been  watching  you .  ”

“  you’ve  got  something  most  running  dog  mercenaries  don’t .  ”

“  i’m  not  a  mercenary .  ”

“  you’ve  got  shame .   you  know  what  you’re  doing  is  wrong .  ”

“  it’s  a  job .  ”

“  but  you’re  somebody  who’d  chase  after  me  ,    despite  the  fact  that  you’re  injured  and  naked .    who  does  that ?  ”

“  ...    i  can’t  stand  not  knowing .  ”

“  tell  me  your  name .  ”

“  i’ve  read  your  files  ,    _____ .  ”

“  six  years  ago  you  leaked  company  files  and  vanished .  ”

“  been  off  the  map  ever  since  ,    encouraging  other  whistleblowers .  ”

“  you’re  trying  to  destroy  _____ .  ”

“  of  course  i  am .  ”

“  they’re  evil .    you  work  for  the  devil .  ”

“  you’re  protecting  _____ ?  ”

“  you’ll  never  find  him .  ”

“  i  couldn’t  tell  you  if  i  knew .  ”

“  willful  ignorance .    i  remember  that .    almost  let  me  sleep  some  nights .  ”

“  how  do  you  sleep ?  ”  

“  how  do  you  justify  working  for  people  you  know  are  evil ?   ”

“  _____  was  a  pebble  in  a  pond .  ”

“  that  is  where  the  real  sickness  spreads .  ”

“  those  are  coordinates .  ”

“  if  you  cannot  look  at  what’s  there  and  not  eat  yourself  hollow  with  shame  ,    you’re  not  human  anymore .  ”

“  i  need  your  help .  ”

“  i  need  somebody  still  inside  _____ .  ”

“  i’m  not  asking  ,    i’m  telling  you .   you’re  going  to  help  me .  ”

“  ...    i  have  to  do  my  job .  ”

“  what  are  you  ...    the  fuck ?!  ”

“  freeze !    i  said  freeze  ,    motherfucker !  ”

“  i’m  leaving .  ”

“  please  don’t  make  me  hurt  you .  ”

“  he’s  ...    a  monster .  ”

“  what  was  he  shoving  in  your  face ?  ”

“  fucked  if  i  know .  ”

“  let’s  get  you  some  clothes  before  i  get  too  turned  on .  ”

“  dental  records .   my  identification .   he  wasn’t  done  with  me .  ”

“  and  we  weren’t  done  with  him .  ”

“  this  make  any  kind  of  sense  to  you ?  ”

“  nothing  i  feel  good  about .  ”

“  but  at  least  it  closes  the  books  for  now .  ”

“  the  evidence  couldn’t  get  any  more  thoroughly  destroyed .  ”

“  there  is  one  more  thing .  ”

“  nothing  i  know  of .  ”

“  i  wouldn’t  put  too  much  faith  in  anything  i  heard  from  an  animated  pile  of  maggots .  ”

“  maybe  we  should  check  it  out .  ”

“  nah  ,    leave  it  alone .  ”

“  you  should  get  home  ,    spend  some  time  with  your  daughter  ...    make  sure  she  doesn’t  grow  up  to  be  somebody  like  me .  ”

“  he  ain’t  gonna  let  us  get  away .  ”

“  every  step  we  take  ,    the  less  power  he  got .  ”

“  we’ll  get  to  the  wicked  part  of  the  world  ,    and  god  hisself  ain’t  even  gonna  be  able  to  find  us .  ”

“  do  you  know  if  yeshua - ha  nostri  was  a  real  person ?   like  ,    in  the  bible ?  ”

“  never  heard  of  him .  ”

“  when’s  that  book  report  due ?  ”

“  you’re  getting  an  early  jump .  ”

“  figured  i’d  be  too  beat  to  work  on  wednesday .  ”

“  you  didn’t  touch  your  dinner .  ”

“  i  wasn’t  hungry .   it’s  not  like  i  need  the  extra  calories .  ”

“  _____  ,    honey  ,    that’s  crazy .  ”

“  you’re  a  string  bean .    a  beautiful  string  bean .  ”

“  shut  up  ,    _____  ,    god  ...    ”

“  there’s  somebody  messing  with  our  mailbox .  ”

“  your  daughter  is  connected .  ”

“  my  partner  and  i  had  agreed  not  to  investigate .  ”

“  turns  out  i  was  lying .  ”

“  i  hear  you  now .    where  are  you ?    it’s  noisy .  ”

“  sorry  to  interrupt  you  on  a  sunday  ...    ”

“  you’re  not  interrupting  anything .  ”

“  i  was  just  ...    folding  laundry  ,    listening  to  prairie  home  companion .  ”

“  i  don’t  think  i’m  gonna  make  it  into  the  office  tomorrow .  ”

“  i  need  to  spend  some  time  with  _____ .  ”

“  no  worries .    we  all  need  personal  time .  ”

“  fuck  me  ...    no  service !  ”

“  i  guess  the  heat  and  the  sun  got  to  me .  ”

“  heavenly  god .  ”

“  _____ ?    what’s  wrong ?  ”

“  are  they  out  of  hot  chocolate ?  ”

“  multiple  perforations  of  the  intestines  ...    spread  throughout  her  blood  ...    had  to  induce  a  coma  in  order  to  arrest  progress  ...    internal  bleeding  ...  ”  

“  surgery  is  no  longer  an  option .  ”    

“  _____  is  dead .    i’m  so  sorry .  ”

“  aiiee !  ”

“  i’m  so  sorry  honey  ,    i  didn’t  mean  ...  ”

“  we  don’t  want  no  trouble !  ”

“  i’m  just  gon’  take  your  pistol .  ”

“  hey  ,    hey  ,    take  it  easy .    jesus  fucking  christ  ...  ”

“  don’t  you  take  that  name  in  vain !  ”

“  safety’s  on .  ”

“  who’s  the  girl ?  ”

“  jesus  ,    how  pregnant  is  she ?  ”

“  god  have  mercy  on  your  soul .  ”

“  i’m  not  going  to  hurt  you .  ”

“  you  need  helllll  ...    ”

“  mmm - hmm .  ”

“  that’s  all  you  got ?    ‘ mmm - hmm ? ’  ”

“  i  heard  you .   it’s  the  least  crazy  thing  you’ve  told  me  so  far .  ”

“  fair  enough .  ”

“  you  are  in  such  deep  shit .  ”

“  i  know .  ”

“  you  lied  to  me  ,    you  went  off  the  reservation .  ”

“  what  the  fuck  are  you  doing  ,    _____ ?  ”

“  i  fucked  up .  ”

“  don’t  fuck  yourself  any  deeper .    i’m  on  my  way .  ”

“  spill .  ”

“  okay  ,    number  one  ,    you  work  for  _____  ,    not  _____ .  ”

“  number  two  ,    you  don’t  interfere  with  ongoing  experiments .  ”

“  we  only  enter  the  equation  when  the  science  is  done  and  the  side  effects  need  mopping  up .  ”

“  shit  ,    you  don’t  even  know  if  this  is  an  experiment .  ”

“  and  number  three  ,    fuck  you .  ”

“  you  don’t  work  without  me .    we’re  partners  ,    you  stupid  motherfucker .  ”

“  sorr  ...    ”

“  don’t  say  you’re  sorry .    i  hate  that .  ”

“  you  want  the  silver  lining  to  your  shit  show ?  ”

“  you  don’t  suppose  you  brought  me  a  suit ?  ”

“  i  even  brought  you  a  tie .    hope  yellow’s  alright .  ”

“  you  called  it  a  ‘ vision ’ .    not  a  hallucination .  ”

“  it  felt  real .  ”

“  first  rule  in  the  playbook  is  don’t  get  high  on  your  own  product .  ”

“  what  about  brain  injury ?  ”

“  the  scan  must  have  been  corrupted .  ”

“  is  there  more  to  your  testimony ?  ”

“  yes  ,    of  course  ,    excuse  me .    i  was  just  ...    ”

“  could  we  see  those  brain  scans ?  ”

“  they’re  already  off  to  the  lab  ,    but  we  have  copies .  ”

“  evidence  ,    all  of  it .    this  had  become  a  matter  of  containment .  ”

“  we’d  love  to  meet  the  patient .  ”

“  the  little  guy  in  here  has  been  kicking  up  a  storm .  ”

“  is  that  a  tattoo ?  ”

“  a  globe .    no  ,    wheels .    ‘ wheels  within  wheels ’ .    that’s  biblical  ,    from  the  book  of  ...    ezekiel .  ”

“  you  can’t  have  him !    you  can’t .    i’ll  die  before  i’ll  let  you  kill  him .  ”

“  i  seen  the  messenger  and  i  know  i  ain’t  burdened  with  the  enemy .  ”

“  my  blood  is  true  ,    i’ve  sipped  at  the  fountain  and  borne  the  pain  and  marks  of  salvation .   ”

“  you  ain’t  gonna  take  my  baby  ,    you  ain’t  ...    ain’t  ...    ”

“  get  a  doctor !  ”

“  doctor !  ”

“  we  lost  her .    we  need  to  leave  ,    now .  ”

“  she’s  dead  ,    gone .    there  was  nothing  we  could  do .  ”    

“  minimal  footprint .  ”

“  i  realized  too  late  i  was  operating  above  my  security  clearance .  ”

“  are  you  sure  she  was  dead ?  ”

“  yeah  ,    case  closed .  ”

“  it’s  sad .  ”

“  still  ,    i  gotta  get  home .    i  said  i’d  be  there .  ”

“  you’re  a  good  dad  ...    you  always  take  care  of  your  girl .  ”

“  _____ !    you  home ?!  ”

“  you  work  for  us  now .  ”

“  we  didn’t  find  dick .  ”

“  there  we  go  ,    my  child .    every  last  drop  of  salvation .    your  children  are  waiting  for  you  in  heaven .  ”

“  god  does  not  pour  half  measures .  ”

“  the  storm  is  abating .    all  these  undeserved  blessings .  ”

“  he’s  still  not  answering .  ”

“  send  people  to  his  house .  ”

“  they’ve  been  feeding  _____  information .  ”

“  that’s  no  good .  ”

“  i’d  put  my  money  on  _____ .  ”

“  if  we  find  him  ,    i’ll  put  electrodes  on  _____ .  ”

“  how  many  bodies  we  looking  at ?  ”

“  hundreds .    it’ll  take  us  days  to  get  them  all  sorted .  ”

“  lot  of  these  local  corpses  show  signs  of  cyanide  poisoning .  ”

“  god  damn  this  guy’s  heavy  ...    ”

“  that  doesn’t  look  like  cyanide .  ”

“  yeah  ,    a  lot  of  them  got  creative  about  dying .  ”

“  took  a  lot  of  what  killed  her  to  get  the  job  done .  ”

“  last  name  sounds  like  a  crustacean  you’re  not  supposed  to  eat .  ”

“  how  did  you  know ?  ”

“  he  was  supposed  to  be  making  sure  they  didn’t  find  this  place .  ”

“  we  got  one  breathing  here !  ”

“  ‘ and  i  only  am  escaped  alone  to  tell  thee . ’  ”

“  is  that  from  wrath  of  khan ?  ”

“  it’s  actually  book  of  job  ,    by  way  of  moby  ...    ”

“  i  know  what  it  is  ,    you  don’t  have  to  try  and  impress  me .  ”

“  well  ,    holy  shit .  ”

“  his  eyes  are  all  pupil .    completely  catatonic .  ”

“  we  need  to  dig  in  his  head .    don’t  be  gentle .  ”

“  they  rarely  are .  ”

“  there’s  blood  on  the  walls .    looks  like  something  was  written  and  smeared  away .  ”

“  what  do  you  want  to  do ?  ”

“  actually  ,    no .    do  me  a  favor  and  find  his  corpse  ,    because  if  he’s  still  alive  ,    he’s  fucking  dangerous .  ”

“  where’s  _____ ?  ”

“  you’re  asking  the  wrong  question .  ”

“  i’ll  still  help  you  find  the  answer  ,    but  you’ll  need  to  trust  me .  ”

“  dead  ,    twice .  ”

“  how  about  you  just  tell  me  whatever  it  is  you  want  to  tell  me .  ”

“  it’s  not  surprising  religion  would  be  such  an  effective  delivery  mechanism .  ”

“  gods  communicating  with  men  ,    gods  dividing  themselves  into  components  that  men  could  understand .    a  trinity .  ”

“  in  the  name  of  the  father  ...    and  of  the  son  ...    and  of  the  holy  spirit .    amen .  ”

[btsslowburnfic]

BTBY Chapter 14

Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

Chapter Summary: Let’s have a throwdown in your hospital room

Previous chapter here 

-----------------------------------------------

You didn’t even realize you had been flirting with Namjoon so you move right along as though nothing had happened. “Ben! Oh my gosh. I was so worried about you. Come here,” you open your arms for a hug and he slowly walks over, pulling you against his side awkwardly.

Namjoon puts his hands on his thighs and stands up, giving Ben a nod of the head. “Well I’ll leave you two to it.”

“No man, you don’t have to go anywhere,” Ben responds, pulling back from you. “I’m sure [y/n] really appreciates having you here. Don’t you?”

Ah, the forced implied question that Ben now wants you to answer. You feel like he's being a little aggressive even though the words he’s saying seem friendly enough. You move along, “Of course. I do. Hey,” you turn back to Ben and shake his arm, “Where were you? We’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Xavier even went to the apartment. I was really worried.” You look up at him.

“Why does Xavier think he can just go to our apartment?” Ben deflects.

You laugh a bit, an awkward sound of disbelief. “Um because I asked him to. I thought you might be hurt or something. You know he and Joe have a key and house-sit for us all the time. Why are you being such a weirdo? Is it because Namjoon’s here?” You gesture over towards the chair side of the room.

Namjoon has been busying himself with looking at the ceiling, looking at his phone, really anything to distract himself from the sheer awkwardness in the room until he hears his name again. “I’m going to go ahead and grab dinner with Tae. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Oh, ok. Bye,” You say as he walks out. Ben just stands there, shaking his leg slightly. “Hey. This is my first time seeing you since I woke up from a coma. Why are you being such a weirdo?”

“Uh I don’t know? Maybe because you apparently found your soulmate in January and didn’t think to say anything to me. Not when you found out. Not when I proposed. Nothing.” He says, his voice tinged with anger.

You look up at him confused, “We agreed we didn’t care. Meeting my soulmate didn’t change how I felt about you so I didn’t think it mattered.”

Ben presses his lips together, “Did you tell Xavier?” He raises his eyebrows, as though he doesn’t already know the answer.

You scoff, “Why do you keep bringing Xavier into this?”

“You always bring Xavier into everything,” he retorts.

“He’s my best friend. I’m not going to justify the conversations I choose to have with him, or the fact that he has a key to our house when you and I both agreed on it last year. You keep making this about other people.” You are starting to become angry. And your head is beginning to throb. 

“You know what. Coming here was a bad idea.” Ben says, backing up to the door.

Your head hurts so bad. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, ok? I just didn’t want it to change anything between us. I love you. I don’t love Namjoon. I barely know him. Why does it matter so much to you?.”

“It just does. You should have told me,” he raises his voice. “I’ve been operating under this assumption that everything was the same for 6 months.”

“Everything is the same!” you yell. You also push the morphine button a bit. This is way too much activity for today. Your heart rate and blood pressure monitors are also beginning to climb.

“It’s not! I can't believe I sat by your bed for 3 days waiting for you to wake up.”

“Oh really? I’m sorry, did you have somewhere else important to be? Sorry me getting fucking run over was such a big inconvenience for you.” You can’t believe you are having this argument. You especially can’t believe you are having this argument while you are in a hospital bed with an IV still attached. You begin to get grey spots in the periphery of your vision.

“How did he know to come here, huh?”

You shake your head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“How did that guy, Namwhatever, know to come to this hospital? Did Xavier tell him?”

“Jesus Christ. It’s all about Xavier again. Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t know how he knew ok? I didn’t ask because it doesn’t matter to me.”

“You’re so fucking selfish. You think you can have me and a soulmate? You think I should keep sacrificing my time for you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? WE SAID WE DIDN’T CARE. I MEANT IT.” You are beginning to feel your eyes get wet and you can hear the beeps ever increasing on the machines next to you.

Ben gets closer to you, you have never seen him so angry before. “You don’t fucking understand anything...I could have been…” 

“Hey. I think that’s enough Ben.” You hear Namjoon’s deep voice in the room again. “You’re screaming at a girl who just woke up from a coma. She’s clearly in pain. If you want to argue with someone, argue with me.” His voice remains calm and steady even though he feels his hands shaking with anger and hides them behind his back.

You just sit there crying and trying to get your breathing back under control.  Oh God, is there going to be a fight in your hospital room?

Ben turns to face Namjoon, his voice calm and icy. “I’m sorry, did anybody ask you to be here?”

Namjoon looks past Ben and over at you, trying to assess what you want to happen. “No, but I don’t think anyone asked you to come in here and scream at [Y/N] either. She literally just got out of a coma.”

“Fuck you dude. I don’t know you. She doesn’t really know you either. No one asked you to come here.” Ben responds.

“Just stop.” You say from the bed. Your head feels like it’s exploding from the inside out. “Ben I want you to leave.”

“Excuse me?” He turns back around.

“You’re being a dick. Just leave.” You say and it sounds more sad than angry. “I don’t have the energy to fight with you. Just be mad at me. It’s fine. I don’t care anymore.” The morphine is starting to kick in and your eyelids begin to close.

Ben rubs his hand along his jawline, opening and closing his mouth a few times while trying to form thoughts.

“Look, I’m sorry she didn’t tell you.” Namjoon, ever the diplomat, tries to smooth things over.

“Yeah whatever.” He throws his hands up in the air, “she’s all yours dude.” He walks out, purposefully bumping up against Namjoon’s shoulder on the way out. 

Namjoon sighs and walks back over to the chair he’s called home for the past few days. He had been riding down the elevator when he suddenly became overwhelmed with sadness, anger, and fear. He also started to get a killer fucking headache so he figured he should come back and see if everything was ok. He had tried to respect your guys’ privacy right up until he heard the vitals monitors pace continue to climb. When Ben started to yell at you and call you selfish, Namjoon had had enough. Ben clearly had some shit going on. Your soulmate had only known you for a short period of time, but he knew that was one thing you weren’t.

Namjoon took out his phone.

[NJ]: Well Ben showed up. 

[X]: That’s great, finally. Where was he?

[NJ]: No idea. He wouldn’t say. And not great. He screamed at [Y/N]. Is this normal for them?

[X]...............

[X]: I am going to fucking murder him. I am going to run over him in a car, put it in reverse, and do it again. 

[X]: I’ll be over there in a while, I have two more classes to teach. Rafael should be there soon also. Thanks. I’m so fucking angry.

Namjoon kept scrolling through his phone. A nurse came in to check on you. “How’s she been doing?”

He smiles politely and looks up. “She’s ok. She had to use some of the morphine earlier, she got a little upset.”

“Well that’s understandable. Poor thing’s been through a lot.” The nurse takes down some information and steps back out.

Namjoon texts Tae to confirm their dinner plans and then begins to play a movie on his phone.

About an hour later, Rafael shows up. “Hey.” He says shyly. “I don’t know if we really met last time you were here. I was the sound guy for you guys.”

“Hi there,” Namjoon stands up. “Namjoon. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Rafael,” the two shake hands. 

Namjoon can tell Rafael isn’t much of a talker, unlike your friend Xavier. 

“If it’s ok with you I’m going to take off to go meet my friend for dinner.”

“Of course. Thanks for coming to support [Y/N]. I know it was probably really hard for you to make it here.” Rafael says thoughtfully as Namjoon heads towards the door.

“It was no problem. I’m glad I came,” Namjoon responds. And to his own surprise, he actually means it. NEXT CHAPTER

Tag list: @calling-dips-on-j-hope  @ghostkat23  @cuteipat @marianeamine  @thisisval    @almonte12  @themisunderstoodblackswan​  @bobbyboops​

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 43 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hola muffins! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Adore threw a tantrum, but it may have been justified.

This Chapter: Bianca has some ‘splainin to do, Courtney plays pretend, Violet gets some exciting news, and Fame has a workplace scare.

***

The first thing Bianca did when she got home on Friday was kick off her stilettos, giving her poor feet a break after the long week. The second thing she did was feed the dogs, her beloved chihuahuas jumping around like crazy while she filled their bowls and freshened up their water dishes. And the third thing? She emptied almost a full bottle of Cabernet into a wine glass, carrying it upstairs to her room.

She opened the door, flipped on the lights, and that’s when she nearly had a heart attack.

Adore, who was on the sofa in her bedroom sitting area, had apparently been waiting for her in the dark.

“Jesus fucking christ!” Bianca said, clutching her chest, a wine stain already spreading on her area rug where she’d spilled in fear.

“Hello Bianca.”

“What the fuck are you doing sitting here in the dark, you psychopath?” Bianca crouched down, examining the stain. “Fuck.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Normal people use a phone!” Bianca sighed, standing back up. “This rug is destroyed, by the way.”

Bianca pointed, doing her best not to spill again, the thought of having to make arrangements with a decorator already putting her on edge, but she guessed she’d just have Joslyn take care of it.

“Thank you for that.” Bianca shook her head, sitting down in the armchair across from Adore. “So, what’s going on?”

“I thought,” said Adore, “that you didn’t have any secrets from me.”

She looked wounded, like a child, and Bianca groaned internally. This had to be about Pearl.

“I don’t, pussycat.” Bianca set her wine down and leaned forward. “I’m an open book for you.”

It was true. There were things Adore knew that Bianca would never tell another soul--and vice versa. Bianca would never, for the life of her, lie to Adore. On the other hand, there were things that she just didn’t feel right bringing up.

“Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you tell me about Fame and Pearl? Huh?” Adore accused.

There it was.

“That wasn’t my secret to tell,” Bianca offered, hoping that Adore would believe her. She wouldn’t have lied, not if she was asked a direct question, but why open up a can or worms if she didn’t have to? Why risk hurting Adore, why betray Fame’s trust, all for this ill-fated, hopefully short-lived relationship with Pearl fucking Liaison?

“Bullshit!”

“Adore…”

“No, I don’t understand. Because you say you love me, you want to protect me, but you lied to me, you lied, for months, and-”

“I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you-”

“I’m gonna strangle you right now, bitch,” Adore said, seething with anger. “You fucking lied!”

The semantics argument would never work--Bianca could see that. So instead, she sighed, rubbing her temples, and changed tactics entirely. “Would it have made a difference?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“If I had told you everything. Broken Fame’s trust, told you all about everything I knew. Would it have changed the way you felt about Pearl? Would it have stopped you from liking her?”

Bianca knew her sister, knew that Adore would most likely have dug in her heels and wanted Pearl even more if a pseudo-parent figure had sat her down and tried to explain all the reasons why she was a terrible choice. If it was guaranteed to stop Adore from getting hurt, Bianca would probably have told her and risked Fame’s wrath.

“Well…” Adore paused, considering the question. “Probably not, but-”

“Well, there you go.” Bianca picked up her glass again and took a large sip. In all honesty, she felt a lot better that it had come out, especially without her having to be the one to tell. Maybe now, Adore would start to see Pearl for who she truly was.

“B…”

“Yes?”

Adore’s lip quivered, eyes shining with tears, and Bianca knew that she’d cave. She always did.

She moved to the sofa, wrapping Adore into her arms, her younger sister curling into her lap the way she used to, even if it was a bit ridiculous now, considering that Adore was so much taller than her.

“I’m sorry, baby girl,” she murmured into Adore’s hair as she rocked her.

“I need to trust you, B,” Adore cried, clinging to her. “I thought you were the one person who would always be honest with me.”

Bianca brushed her tears away, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Adore sniffled, nodding.

“What can I do to make it up to you? Hmm?”

“Can Pearl come to Thanksgiving?” Adore asked, perking up a little. The little rat seemed to have that answer ready awfully quickly.

“Ughh, Adore, you’re still with her?”

“Yes! She’s not the one who lied to me. She assumed I knew all along,” Adore said. “And besides, some of us are mature enough to handle real relationships.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry. But…” Adore shrugged, “When’s the last time you dated someone longer than a month?”

“Fine. Pearl can come to Thanksgiving,” Bianca said. Anything to avoid the dreaded ‘why don’t you ever commit?’ conversation.

Adore’s face broke into a happy grin, throwing her arms back around Bianca’s neck.

“Thank you, B! I always knew you were my favorite sister.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…”

***

Pearl was humming along to the music in her headphones as she made her way towards the laundry room, basket under her arms. Normally, Katya was the one who washed everyone's clothes, even taking Pearl’s too, but this weekend, Trixie had taken her to Coney Island, and Pearl was nothing if not a good roomie.

At least when it suited her.

Pearl pushed the door open, fully expecting the basement to be devoid of anyone she knew, but instead of bumping into some random neighbor, she saw Violet bent over and pulling her clothes out of the washer.

Pearl smirked, leaning against the doorframe for a minute to watch Violet stretch, her ass absolutely delicious in the tight yoga pants she was wearing. Violet stood back up, still not noticing Pearl, and while Pearl didn’t mind peeking, she didn’t want to upset the truce between her and Violet, so she coughed, causing Violet to turn around.

“Oh.” Violet looked genuinely surprised, her hands filled with workout clothes. “Hi Pearl, I didn’t-” Violet paused, looking at the basket under Pearl’s arm.. “... Are you washing clothes?”

“Yes?” Pearl smirked, “Did you think I didn’t?”

“Honestly? I did… Think you didn’t?” Violet bit her lip, tilting her head. “I’ve never imagined you doing chores, ever.”

“Good to hear that you’re thinking about me, Chachki.” Pearl grinned, satisfaction curling up her spine.

“Sure.” Violet snorted, moving aside so there was room for Pearl to walk into the small room.

“A girl can dream.”

“Don’t get too full of yourself.” Violet smiled, pouring her own clothes into the dryer. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“I think you think it suits me fine.” Pearl wiggled her brows. She knew that she probably shouldn’t be flirting with Violet, but it was impossible not to,  least of all when it was so fun.

“Whatever.” Violet rolled her eyes, but she still looked amused. She started the dryer, but didn’t make a move to leave, Pearl noticing that she had a thermos and a stack of magazines, Violet grabbing one of them.

“My my Vivi,” Pearl closed the lid on the washer. “Planning to sit on the dryer?”

“What? No, ew, Pearl!” Violet slapped her on the shoulder with the magazine. “Shut up!”

“You can’t make me.” Pearl grinned, getting up and leaning against the small table Violet had put her setup out on. “So what are we reading?”

***

“Tati!” Courtney called out, waving to get her friend’s attention in the crowded Port Authority bus terminal. They’d both realized how much they missed each other at the Halloween party, with Courtney working crazy hours and living all the way up in the Bronx, and Tatianna staying with her cousins in New Jersey.

The truth was that  Courtney had felt a bit disconnected from all of her friends recently. She still managed to at least text with Adore every day, but it was hard to keep up with everyone else--something she was determined to fix.

The girls hugged fiercely, then headed out, towards the cute brunch spot that Ivy had recommended. Courtney noticed right away that Tatianna seemed a bit reserved, not all all like her usual bubbly self.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, squeezing her friend’s hand as they waited for the light to change.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s been alright. I’m just getting a little bit frustrated with the whole modeling thing. I still haven’t found a decent agent, and all I keep on getting are these cattle calls. I just...ugh, sometimes I wonder if it’s all just a mistake.” She heaved a sigh, shoulders slumped, face dejected.

Courtney knew exactly how she felt. She’d gone through the exact same thing when she moved to New York, trying desperately to go on as many auditions as possible. It was so disheartening to feel invisible. But she knew that Tati would make it--she was so beautiful, one of the prettiest girls Courtney had ever known, and the photos Courtney had seen were amazing.

“Don’t give up. I know it’s hard, but...I really think you’re gonna get a break soon.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. And actually… Well, I don’t know what their casting process is, but I’ve gotten really friendly with the head of our makeup department. Maybe I can give her your photos?”

“Are you kidding? That would be the best fucking thing ever!” Tati exclaimed, beaming at her.

Courtney smiled, hoping that she wasn’t over-promising, but thrilled that she seemed to have turned her friend’s mood around.

“That’s honestly so cool though, even if they don’t use me. You’re really making friends in high places!”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, a dry chuckle slipping from her lips. “Actually, there’s a show coming up in a few weeks too, like this private thing at the showroom for the holiday collection. I could try slipping you into the casting pile for that too. Raja is in charge of that and her assistant is super nice.”

“You’re such a fucking goddess, thank you!” Tati said.

“Anytime.”

“So then, are things going better at work? I mean, you’re liking it more?”

“Ummm…” Courtney sighed.

“Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

She really tried to be positive about work. She tried to keep a good attitude, tried not to cringe in fear every time her work phone buzzed after hours. But sometimes, like on a Sunday afternoon when she just wanted to enjoy brunch with her friend but couldn’t keep the racing thoughts about everything she’d have to do in the coming week from intruding—sometimes it was hard. She hadn’t confessed this to her friends yet, for fear of it getting back to Adore. She just didn’t want to seem like she was ungrateful for the opportunity. But something told her that she could trust Tati.

“Well...it’s just...it’s really stressful. All the time, and I keep thinking that it’ll get easier, you know? But instead there’s just more and more and the hours are always long and even when I’m supposed to be sleeping, I’m always thinking about work or worried that I forgot something. Plus, I don’t think Miss Fame likes me very much and it’s just…”

“Shitty?”

“Yeah,” Courtney exhaled, surprised at how much of a relief it felt to unburden herself. “Sometimes I feel like...I’m barely holding on. It’s like I can’t...find the solid ground, you know?”

Tati nodded solemnly, stopping mid stride to turn and give Courtney a big, comforting hug. Then, she suddenly grasped her by the shoulders, a sly smile on her face as she said, “I know what you need!”

Courtney laughed, curiosity distracting her from her troubles as Tati dragged her down the block, right into a high-end boutique filled with clothes that they could never afford in a million years. In that moment, Courtney knew exactly what she was up to--a perfectly ridiculous game they started last year when the stress of school was getting overwhelming.

She had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing when Tatianna found a sales clerk and “introduced” herself.

“Helloooo!” she crooned in a terrible British accent, sticking out her hand as if the woman should kiss it. “Tatianna Buckingham, Duchess of Hamptonshire, pleasure to meet you. This is my friend, Courtney Vanderbilt-Rockefeller, and we need gowns for a gala next week.”

The sales girl smiled patiently, asking them if they wanted some champagne.

“Sounds lovely, darling. Thanks ever so.”

The moment the clerk walked away, Courtney began laughing, whispering, “She totally knew you were lying.”

“So?” Tati challenged. “Maybe she likes to play, too.”

“Maybe,” Courtney giggled, pawing through a rack of floor-length beaded gowns. “Ooh, Tati dahhhling, this turquoise one would look positively diviiine on you!”

“I don’t know about that one, I was planning to wear the rubies and it might clash.”

“Then wear the diamonds, love!”

“Great idea! Alright, let’s try it on!”

The clerk returned with champagne, and Tati held out her glass for a toast, her arms already full of clothes to try on.

“To solid ground,” she said solemnly, and Courtney toasted her back enthusiastically.

“Cheers!”

They spent nearly an hour in the store, trying on gowns, resort wear and pristinely tailored ensembles, taking turns styling each other and then strutting around the dressing room as if it was a Paris runway. The whole thing was silly and fun and made Courtney feel like she used to: young and happy and free.

When they finally left the store to head to brunch, Courtney couldn’t help pull her friend in for a hug, whispering, “Thank you,” into her hair.

“Anytime, buttercup,” Tati told her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

***

“It’s here!” cried Kandy, and a murmur went through the whole design floor, everyone reaching for their respective tablets.

It had been almost an hour since the department head meeting ended, Trixie informing them all that Miss Fame’s office would be sending the team the final prêt-à-porter sketches that had gone to tailoring for production.

Of course Courtney would be slower than death, but Violet had still spent the whole 30 minutes constantly refreshing her email. She knew it was petty considering the number of people that were trying for it, but she really really wanted that jacket spot and she had a few other looks she thought were promising as well.

One, a breezy dress that could be dressed up or down depending on styling, and a top with beautiful sleeve detailing. But the jacket...if the jacket was chosen, then it boded very well for her chance of getting the opening or closing couture look, since the dress she was currently working on used some of the same techniques.

It was probably a pipe dream to even hope for a spot like that, being the newest designer, but Violet was going to give it her best shot.

Violet clicked on the attachment, lip between her teeth as she carefully looked through, doing her best not to skip anything.

The first sketch of hers that she recognized was a skirt, one of the simpler submissions that she hadn’t even felt 100% about, but it fit in with the casual separates. The dress that she liked was in there too--with a note to lengthen the hemline. She wrinkled her nose, hoping that the extra fabric wouldn’t make the skirt look dowdy.

Then, she found it on page 38 among the other outwear--her jacket.

She grinned happily to herself, beyond pleased and excited to have this major success under her belt and more determined than ever to perfect her couture submission.

***

“Courtney! I need the tailoring budgets now!”

Fame shrugged her coat off as she walked into her office, taking her coat and letting it fall, trusting her assistant to catch it before it touched the ground. Fame had just finished her weekly yoga and therapy, talking with her therapist over the phone while stretching out. She didn’t like the therapy, hated doing it actually, but she couldn’t discredit the fact that it did make her feel slightly less anxious to unload on someone once a week.

“Have you talked to Shangela yet?” Fame looked at Courtney, her assistant holding the budget out for her. “I want-” Fame paused, realizing that this was the first time in weeks that she had actually looked at Courtney, the pastel pink no longer in the blonde hair.

Or rather, in what used to be blonde.

“What’s that?” On top of Courtney’s head, was the most disgusting half inch of severely neglected roots, the hair making Courtney’s entire appearance look cheap and tawdry. “Where do you get your hair done?”

Courtney’s hand flew to her hair, covering up the roots as the color drained for her face.

“I do it myself. I’m sorry, I know I need to touch up-”

“Yourself?” Fame tried to remember if she had ever had to reprimand Violet like this, Courtney looking like an absolute disaster. “And how do you think your current hairstyle reflects on the company? And most importantly me?”

“Um...well, I-” Courtney bit her lip, and Fame sighed internally.

For the most part, Courtney had been doing alright. For one thing, she was no longer skipping around the place like a child, and seemed to be taking her job seriously, at least. But in spite of her meager progress, she still had so much to learn. Drug store dye? Did she think this was a strip club instead of a top tier fashion house?

“Remember. Only perfection is acceptable.” Fame said, her tone clipped and pointed as she strode into her office, then turned around and proclaimed, “That’s all,” finally shutting the door in Courtney’s face.

***

Sutan was sitting at his desk at work, a smile on his face as he was reading the email that had just ticked in from Violet.

Normally, it was nearly impossible to get a hold of the woman during work hours, the task even harder now that she didn’t have a work phone anymore, but judging from the excitement that radiated from her email, Violet had been unable to wait until she was off the clock to tell him that she had gotten not one, not two, but three pieces into the prêt-à-porter collection.

Sutan was just about to email her back with congratulations, his mind already racing with how they should celebrate, when he heard a tap on his door.

He was one of the only agents who had an always open door policy, his models and coworkers always welcome, Sutan more often than not getting visits from models that didn’t even belong to him when there was trouble on the horizon, girls coming by to share their frustrations or worries with someone who listened.

Today, however, it wasn’t a model who had shown up at his door.

“Oh,” Sutan smiled. “Tamisha, hello.”

Tamisha Iman was the current CEO of Elite Model with over 30 years of experience in the business. She looked gorgeous as always, her skin perfection even though she was in her mid 50s. She was wearing a red pant suit, her brown hair perfectly styled.

“What can I help you with?”

“Do you have five?”

“Of course.” Sutan raised an eyebrow as Tamisha stepped inside, closing the door behind her. It was years since Tamisha had last been upset with him, and even though she was a firm but fair boss, you never really knew. “Anything wrong?”

“Can I bum a cigarette? I just had the most terrible meeting with the L.A. office-”

“Ah.” Sutan smiled, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. “And who says I smoke?”

“Oh please,” Tamisha rolled her eyes. “I know you got the goods Amrull.”

“I thought you quit last year?”

“Don’t care.”

“Ouch.” Sutan laughed, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out the packets of cigarettes he always kept there. “I only have Camels.”

“That’s fine.” Tamisha had already walked over to his window, opening it and hiking up her skirt to crawl out onto his fire escape. “Are you coming?”

“Course boss.” Sutan smiled as he grabbed his lighter, listening to one of the few people he considered a friend bitch not the worst way to spend an afternoon.

***

Pearl climbed the stairs from the subway, she and Trixie having a rare weekday dinner without Katya since she was busy with parent-teacher conferences, so they’d opted for their favorite dim sum place downtown. As they began walking up the block, Pearl stopped short, her eyes opening wide.

“Oh my god…”

“What?” Trixie asked.

The whole time Pearl was speaking to Dahlia at Adore’s last gig, she was certain that she’d seen the dark-haired beauty somewhere before. Now, looking at the giant XXX LIVE NUDE GIRLS XXX sign, she finally figured it out. She used to use the seedy strip club as a meeting place, whenever she was trying to get info from a straight guy. Granted, that didn’t happen terribly often in the fashion industry, which was probably why she hadn’t thought of it. But as soon as she saw that sign, she knew. Dahlia worked there. Pearl could picture her clear as day, in nothing but a tiny little thong, chest glistening with glitter.

“That strip club,” Pearl said. “Let’s go in!”

“What?” Trixie sputtered a laugh.

“For a drink! Real quick…”

“No way bro, not on your life.”

“Come on!” Pearl begged, reasoning, “Katya wouldn’t care, she’d probably think it was funny.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not interested,” Trixie told her firmly.

“Please, Trix? There’s a girl there that is just like...so fucking hot. I just want to see if she’s working tonight.”

“I’m not interested in helping you cheat on your girlfriend with a stripper, either.” Trixie looked absolutely disgusted with her. He was really the worst wingman in the world.

“It wouldn’t be cheating! We talked about it and agreed that we should be open.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” Pearl grinned, spreading her arms. “I’m living the dream.”

Trixie snorted and shook his head. “If you say so.”

“So will you come inside?”

“Still no.”

Pearl sighed, continued to follow him up the street to the dim sum place, all the while entertaining herself with images of what Dahlia looked like on stage… Her tall, luscious body wrapped in silky lingerie. The subtle scent of her perfume lingering even as she walked away, swaying her perfect hips.

***

The scent of spices was filling Sutan’s kitchen, music playing while he chopped up the last of the chili, humming to himself as he rocked back and forth to the music, a glass of wine getting picked up once in a while.

“What are we listening to?”

Violet was sitting at the table, filing her nails and drinking her own glass of wine as she watched Sutan, but most importantly his ass in those jeans, cooking dinner.

“What?” Sutan looked over his shoulder. “Are you seriously asking that? It’s the Temptations? They’re the only band from the 60s that matters.”

“Really?” Violet looked at Sutan, actually a little surprised at how passionate he seemed to be about music. If Violet was being totally honest, she always preferred instrumentals, vocals often only distracting.

“Yes, really?” Sutan huffed, “Youth these days.”

“I’m sorry,” Violet laughed, the man sounding genuinely offended.

“You better be.” Sutan smiled, tipping the last of the chili into the pan. “Or I might not give you your present.”

“My present?”

“Yes.” Sutan wiped his hands on the tea towel. “Watch the stove, would you?”

Violet was about to protest, but Sutan had already walked off. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to watch, the pasta dish Sutan was whipping together way above her level of cooking skills.

“Here we go.” Sutan walked back into the kitchen, holding a white box, a white ribbon wrapped around it, the word Dior printed on it in gold.

“Is-” Viole stood up, suddenly feeling boiling hot and overwhelmed. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Well,” Sutan grinned, putting the box down on the table in front of her. “Depends on what you think it is?”

“Sutan, I-” Violet didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to think.

“Come on,” Sutan gave her a gentle push with his elbow.

“Are you serious?”

“Open it.”

Violet's hands were shaking as she reached for the ribbon and opened the box. Violet pulled the white paper away, her fingers making contact with the soft purple leather. Her hand flew to her mouth, covering it as she looked into the box, completely overwhelmed before she snapped to Sutan, a look of surprise and confusion on her face.

“Congrats on your designs being picked, lovely eyes.” Sutan smiled. “After getting a good look at your bag at the park the other day,” He raised an eyebrow, Violet remembering that she had shown it in his arms when she had spotted the pug. “I figured you needed a new one.”

“Oh my God, oh God.” Violet could feel the tears gathering in her eyes; she didn’t want to cry, but she was simply so overwhelmed.

Sutan always paid for their meals and their dates, refusing even the sight of Violet’s credit card, but it had never been anything like this before, never a gift that so obviously said, ‘I’m your boyfriend and I care about you.’

“Don’t cry darling,” Violet felt Sutan’s arms around her, pulling her against his chest as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Take a look at it.”

Violet nodded, crying as she pulled the Dior Diorissimo in the most gorgeous pale purple leather out of the box.

“A cool designer bag for my cool designer girlfriend.” Sutan grinned, pressing yet another kiss against Violet’s hair. “Hopefully, it’ll be able to withstand the abuse of all the things you insist on lugging around.”

“This is,” Violet didn’t know what to say. “I-” She turned her head, looking up at Sutan. “Thank you. This is… Thank you. I love it.”

[eccl3ctic0n3]

This Is My Personal Testimony of How God Found Me When I Was Lost.

I Am A Witness and My Testimony is of Jesus Christ the living Word of God

What you FEEL and what you THINK are valid and extremely powerful as these are the things you BELIEVE to be TRUTH thus this is your REALITY!

This is your belief system. Unless you suffer from mental illness therapy and counseling can be very helpful. Just talking about it and getting it off your chest is therapeutic in itself. No matter if it is a friend or a therapists getting things out instead of bottling them up and holding them in is great relief.

I was diagnosed bipolar type I when I was 23 years old. I am 41 now and it has only been in the last 5 years that I have been able to overcome, heal, grow, and experience breakthrough.

Traumatic experiences such as verbal, mental, emotional, physical, or sexual abuse to losing a loved one or friend has a lifelong affect. Therapy and medicine are just tools to help you and give you the skills, knowledge, and some understanding, so you can cope and learn how to manage with the pain and symptoms that remain.

I don't know who needs to hear this but I am telling you from 18 years of personal experience. Actually, 41 years as its only been 18 since I began treatment. Where doctors and medicine failed me for 13 years God did not fail me. I got lab ratted on all that time with powerful psychiatric medications. I spiraled out of control and my behavior landed me in the psychiatric ward of prison in the infirmary. 10 weeks I was locked in solitary confinement on 24 hour lock. I was deemed incompetent and unfit to stand trial. I was looking at two F1 Felonies with sentences from 5-99 years each. For 10 weeks I literally lost my mind and was experiencing full blown psychosis. It was in an instant that God found me and restored me to sanity. I did not find God. He found me.

I was lost and could not tell the difference between my dreams and reality. I slept in 15 minute intervals. In one dream I dreamt that I murdered my two children. I bashed my daughters head into the wall. My reality was this place I was in where no other person is visible was like a purgatory and I was awaiting my judgment to be thrown into hell.

I was on my knees in my boxers bleeding from my head and knuckles. I was head butting and punching the walls. As I was on my knees I was singing, ''My Girl, My Girl, Talkin Bout, My Girl." I was only thinking of my daughter and that I was never going to see her again.

The guy in a cell next to me screamed, " Shut the fuck up!" I just screamed back and told him to come on over and shut me up. What was he going to do we are in solitary confinement. 😅

I lost track of time and I was still singing and I began to cry out to God. Literally bawling and begging I screamed for God to help me. Don't you know the guy who cursed me came to my door and asked me to call his momma for him to bail him out. I laughed and said ain't you the same mother fucker who told me to shut up? Before he answered I just said whatever! Just write the number on a piece of paper and slide it under my door and I will get to it.

Mind you that for those 10 weeks I could not even read or use the telephone because I just didn't know how. The hands on the clock just spun round and round. Still on my knees sobbing I noticed the piece of paper slide under my door. I forgot all about it and I couldn't read or use a phone anyway. But I looked closer and I seen the red writing. This guy tore the last page of his bible out to write the number on. The red writing just caught my eyes and the first thing I seen was this. Revelations 22:16 I Jesus, have sent My angel to you to testify in the churches. I am the Root and Offspring of David, the Bright and Morning Star. As fast as you could snap your fingers I realized that I could read first of all. I then noticed I felt completely normal. I was just wondering wtf am I doing in my boxers bleeding on this floor? 😅 I got up took a shower and cleaned up. The guard came by and stopped giving me a strange look and asked if I was ok. I just said Im fine Im waiting on lunch its almost noon. I could read the time cause the hands stopped spinning.

Finally I got to use the phone and I called home and asked how long I was there. I said 2 weeks? My mom said you been there almost 3 months. I did 6 months and got both charges dropped down to a misdemeanor and 4 years probation. 2 years was deferred. I literally signed out of jail on a PR Bond. No fines, fees, or court costs at all.

That was 5 years ago in October. I never could forget or deny what happened. I knew immediately what the verse meant and what I was told to do. So I have done it this entire time everyday almost on social media.

I had never read a bible before and I was far away from God. I was really on the fence about the whole Jesus thing. What I know now and I knew at that moment was this. Jesus is God! He is the Father, the Son of God, and the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of God and of Christ. There is only one. Omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, and Sovereign Lord over all of creation.

I believe the words of the verse exactly for what they said. He sent an angel to me which is a ministering spirit and a messenger. I got the message loud and clear. So I do exactly as He has told me to.

It has been 5 years and I have not even had a cold. My doctor is weaning me off medications. It was by no means an easy 5 years at all. I suffered with overcoming addiction and the mental illness symptoms I was and still am learning to cope and manage.

There is one thing I learned in addition to all these things since then in talk therapy. I was raised by two narcissistic, one mentally ill, and completely abusive except sexually.

After all those years and all those medications and numerous doctors did not do for me what the Great Physician did in a moment of time.

Don't get me wrong. God has revealed to me that He has gifted these doctors, nurses, therapists, and the scientists or chemists that make these medications. Give or take these crooked sons of bitches.

Just know that God is Hope. Faith or Belief and any good thing at all about man is of God. He is Love. How is Jesus God? All things are possible with God. Just trust Him. Don't worry or be afraid. He has commanded us to be strong and courageous for He is with us wherever we go. He will never leave us or forsake us. He is faithful to keep His word. If He said it. He meant it. It is the Truth. Jesus said His words are Spirit and Truth. These words are Life and Jesus is the Way. The one and only true living God is the living Word of God. He was manifest in the flesh. The holy bible has been tampered with by man and today even more with hundreds of versions. However, man is foolish to think he could ever stop the Power of the Spirit and Truth that is the Word of God Jesus Christ.

Is the Father the Son or the Spirit? Is He 3 in one or one in 3? Don't split hairs with vain debates and argumentative subjects that no man can answer. There are simply things of God that man will never understand. Our finite minds cannot imagine, fathom, dream, or even comprehend the great things of God. He just said don't trip. I got this. Be still and know. Trust Me and Believe In Me. Have Faith! Never give up Hope. Without Hope this Life has no purpose and we have meaning at all. There is just certain death. Then we are worm food.

If it is all just a big story and we die only to find out that's it just black and nothing then fine with me. If we die and it is true and we chose not to simply believe and have the faith the size of a mustard seed. We'd be cursing ourselves not God from hell forever. We would know He was right and we have no defense or a word to say before the righteous Judge.

Life and death. Facts. Choose life or death. It is the most logical, reasonable, sane, and simple choice for anyone in their right mind. So anyone who says its blind faith and completely disregards facts, logic, or reason. You know just as God says. He has used the foolishness of this world for His wisdom. He makes those who are wise in their own eyes, puffed up with pride, and too stubborn or hard hearted to simply admit they do not know. Men fear what they do not know. Rightfully so. You should fear God. Both revere and be a very afraid of the One that can take your life and cast your soul into hell. He gives and takes away. Simple as that.

So remember no matter what the situation or circumstances shit is just temporary. All good things must come to an end. As do the bad. So suck it up, be strong and courageous. Has He not commanded us? He is with you wherever and nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus.

To anyone suffering right now I am by no means minimizing your pain. I feel you 1000% You don't have to believe a word from me. Just know there is someone who is always with you and you are not helpless or alone. You may be weak and in complete darkness that seems like hell. God is light in the darkness. He has the keys to death and hell. So weather life or death, heaven or hell. You gotta trust and believe in Jesus. If not it is your own doing. Most of our problems are self inflicted we bring em on ourselves.

This may be the hardest part for me to tell someone in depression just dwelling and can't let go. Do you know what depression is. It is YOUR THOUGHTS and YOUR FEELINGS. It is therefore YOUR BELIEF and thus YOUR REALITY!

This is self-centeredness. Depression for a while that is justified is one thing. Wallowing in SELF-PITY with the attitude WOE IS ME. MY LIFE SUCKS and nobody understands or knows what I I I am going through. No one could possibly relate to YOUR SUPERIOR PROBLEMS! GET OUT OF YOURSELF for a while. Have an attitude of gratitude. You are alive and if you can feel emotions and you woke up today then you KNOW that you are alive. LIFE is a gift from of GOD. He so loved all of us that He GAVE HIS LIFE so that anyone who BELIEVES in HIM Should Not Perish...SHOULD NOT! But HAVE RIGHT NOW AS IN THIS PRESENT MOMENT. EVERLASTING LIFE. God gave us HOPE of ETERNAL LIFE the FREE GIFT of SALVATION is the LORD OUR GOD JESUS CHRIST the ONLY BEGOTTEN of the EVERLASTING FATHER the King of Israel is the Holy One (Christ) or Anointed (Messiah) our SAVIOR and REDEEMER. Not by might nor by power but by that Holy Spirit of PROMISE which is the PLEDGE of our inheritance.

The only reason one would die when God gave us His Life so that anyone whomsoever at all Believes. The Way is the Truth and He has become our Salvation. He is the very HOPE, FAITH, and LOVE that abides forever. LOVE being the greatest. No one SHOULD die. It is a choice!!! Just like you choose to wake up and be grateful saying Thank You God. Bless you Lord Jesus for the Spirit translated "Breath or Air" of Life and the LIGHT we all see and we have heard the word of God preached and proclaimed to us all. So no one has an excuse to even say I Dont Believe! That is our free will and choice. Another gift from God. He wants you to choose Jesus and dont worry but be happy. Rejoice!! Make some noise!! God is good all the time. All the time God is good. We all have a reason for the very BREATH of LIFE that was blown into Adam's nostrils and he became a living soul. Adam just means man. Human. In His image and likeness. Male and female created He them. If you believe in Jesus and the Good News aka Gospel of the Kingdom and Eternal Life you have every reason on every Day the Lord has made to be grateful and choose to be happy. The Eternal One is the Alpha and Omega. The Ancient of Days is the First and the Last. The Almighty. Beginning and End. Genesis to Revelation. Death and Life He gives and takes away.

I pray you don't waste another moment having a pity party if you don't have an actual reason to be stuck feeling sad for an excessive period of time. It is selfish. Ungrateful.

Your THOUGHTS and FEELINGS are powerful. They are YOURS though. You and you alone have a God given free gift of grace to Think for yourself and Regulate or Control Your Feelings and Emotions. It takes time and it's a process of growing up and becoming a man or woman. He has not given us a spirit of fear, but of POWER, LOVE, AND A SOUND MIND. SELF DISCIPLINE your MIND. We have the MIND of Christ. The Spirit of God and of Christ. The Kingdom of heaven is within. God the Father, the Lord Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit is all within. What does it say? The Word is near to you, in your heart, even in your mouth.

It is Finished!

Revelation 22:16 21st Century King James Version (KJ21)

16 “I, Jesus, have sent Mine angel to testify unto you these things in the churches. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the Bright and Morning Star.”

Isaiah 44:6-8 21st Century King James Version (KJ21)

6 “Thus saith the Lord, the King of Israel, and his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts: I am the First, and I am the Last, and besides Me there is no God.

7 And who, as I, shall call and shall declare it, and set it in order for Me, since I appointed the ancient people? And the things that are coming and shall come, let them show unto them.

8 Fear ye not, neither be afraid. Have not I told thee from that time and have declared it? Ye are even My witnesses. Is there a God besides Me? Yea, there is no God. I know not any.”

[nayutai]

Sleep Walker

⇢ Genre fluff (this nearly killed Jesus Christ fluff authors are powerful)

⇢ Pairing Jimin x OC

⇢ Word Count 4251

⇢ Summary Jimin finds himself wandering into a 24-hour coffee shop after his efforts to sleep have proved unsuccessful where he finds more than just the caffeine boost he needs to get through his day

⇢ Notes this goes out to my love bug @tae-tae-drives-me-kray​ 

Working the night shift at a 24-hour coffee shop makes for a very boring shift. Most of the customers clear out by the time that two o’clock rolls around and those who do pop in are on their way to their own early morning shifts and generally don’t stay long. They also don’t usually start arriving until at least 4:30. For Amira, this means that she can eat snacks and binge watch Supernatural until the day time people show up for the most part. At $11 an hour it’s a pretty cushy gig if you don’t mind the fucked up sleep schedule. 

The sound of the bell above the door tinkling loudly just before three sends Amira flying from her perch on a stool behind the counter. Whoever it is giggles melodically at the flurry of creative curses that come out of her mouth as she rises to your feet dramatically. She gives them a dirty look that softens at the way their eyes twinkle even in the low light of the cafe. 

“Are you okay?” At least they have the decency to ask about her well-being after nearly giving her a heart attack. The lower half of their face is covered in a mask and a baseball cap sits low on his head. If it weren’t for the fact that this person’s eyes look so friendly she’d be standing a lot closer to the silent alarm and the baseball bat that her manager allows her to store under the counter. 

“Just peachy for someone who was on the verge of death. What would you like to order?” He rattles off the name of some frappuccino thing with an assload of ingredients and Amira has the sudden urge to beat her head against the granite countertop. Being that she works night shift, most of her barista knowledge circled the memory drain a long time ago due to the fact that the most complicated thing the early morning demographic orders is flavored iced coffee. A walk in the park compared to the science experiments that the daytime crew is required to mix up throughout the day.

“I’m gonna keep it real with you, chief. I forgot how to make this but I don’t have the authorization to do refunds so if it’s bad you’re stuck with it.”

“At this point, it could be dishwater and I’d drink it as long as it’s got caffeine.” 

And yet he ordered one of the froo froo drinks Amira thinks to herself. Those drinks have the least amount of caffeine out of everything on the menu. He’ll be asleep before he even finishes his drink.

“Well if caffeine is what you need, this drink isn’t what you want. I’ve got just the thing though.” You put away the clear cup for the frappucino with his consent and reach for a regular coffee cup. “What’s your name? I know you’re the only one here but it’s against store policy for any cup to leave this hellhole without a name on it.” He seems to panic at the thought of giving up his name, a wary look morphing his gaze. Her brows creases as she watches him contemplate how he wants to answer what she thinks is a very simple question.

“Jimin...” He says after a minute.

“Ha, that’s cool. There’s a guy in BTS with the same-“ Amira’s hand freezes halfway through writing his name as her drowsy brain starts connecting some very important dots. The news lady on channel six had said they’d be in town this weekend but never in a million years did she expect something like this to happen. She peeks at him from beneath her lashes. He looks ready to bolt out the door at the slightest provocation so she do her absolute best to remain calm for his sake. 

Alright, sis you can do this. Just stay cool, calm, and collected. Mama ain’t raise a loser you can do this.

Jimin visibly relaxes when Amira starts writing again and turns to start making his drink. It’s a special concoction she makes for her fellow graveyard peeps. It’s strong enough to knock a donkey on its ass which is why it’s such a hit. One of her regulars, a long haul trucker, tells Amira all the time that he doesn’t know how he’d make it through his long drives without the liquid defibrillator that he practically orders by the gallon. Definitely doesn’t seem safe but he’s got an incredible driving record and he always brings her a fistful of the soft peppermint candies she’s partial to. 

“Thank you for not freaking out. I’m not really supposed to be here.” Jimin mumbles as he accepts his drink. He loves interacting with fans but not at two a.m when he’s barely able to stand up from his lack of sleep. 

“I gathered as much. Not many global superstars stroll through here at this hour or at all really.” Amira give him a smile that she hopes puts him at ease and, judging by the way his lips turn up a bit, it may have worked. 

“Couldn’t sleep and we’ve got interviews all day so at this point I don’t have time to sleep hence the desperate need for caffeine.” He takes a cautious sip of the drink in his hand. She wasn’t kidding when she said that it would help. The caffeine hits his veins with the force of a speeding bullet train and Jimin already feels more alert just a few sips in.

Somehow, talking about his sleep troubles snowballs into a conversation about Disney movies and why Maleficent is the baddest bitch in the Disney realm when the blaring of his ringtone cuts her rant short. A heavy sigh escapes him at the interruption. He’d much rather listen to the adorable barista in front of him continue her impassioned argument, but duty calls. 

“Guess that’s my cue. Thank you for the drink and the company.”

“No problem! If that shit starts fucking with your heart rate though you did not get it here. I refuse to be attacked by your twitter army for giving you heart palpitations. I ain’t built for that type of guerilla warfare.” Jimin full on belly laughs, nearly dropping the rest of his drink in the process. He couldn’t get rid of the goofy smile on his face even if he wanted to. 

He grips the door handle in his hand but something is holding him back. Something feels unfinished and his feet refuse to move any further until that changes. Jimin turns around to see the source of his frozen feet standing behind the counter again, staring at his still form curiously. Before he can stop himself, Jimin crosses the short distance, snatching the pen stuck to the top of her apron to scribble his phone number on a nearby napkin. The gagging noises she makes when she realize what he’s just done make him feel justified in his rash decision. This time when he backs away, the smile on his face is one of mischief.

“Don’t let this be the last time I talk to you or I’ll never forgive you.” Jimin’s steps feel lighter as he treks back to the hotel to face the wrath of his manager. He hopes desperately that she texts him later. A frown replaces the grin behind his face mask at the prospect of his new crush not contacting him after tonight. His steps falter slightly as he processes the fact that he just met her not even a full hour ago and has already developed a full-fledged crush on her. Oh, Amira, so powerful and yet so unaware of it.

[Amira]: best friend

[Amira]: rise from the dead

[Amira]: I have a story to tell and before you even ask no it can’t wait until a decent hour

[Pomegranate]: if this doesn’t involve you meeting BTS or you hitting the lottery and paying off my crippling student loan debt I promise I don’t care 

[Amira]: ….sometimes I swear you’re psychic

[Pomegranate]: BITCH DID YOU HIT THE LOTTO????? 

[Pomegranate]: I BEEN YOUR BEST FRIEND FOR 13 YEARS DON’T FORGET ABOUT ME

[Amira]: shut up I didn’t hit the lottery but I did meet someone from BTS…

[Amira]: Jimin to be more specific

Incoming call from Pomegranate

“Well look what we have here. A traitor.” Jimin rolls his eyes at Taehyung’s dramatics but his best friend and bandmate is having none of it. “How dare you go traipsing off into the concrete jungle without me? We’re supposed to cause mayhem together and you left my ass in the middle of the night like I’m some side chick.”

“It’s really not this deep, Tae.”

“To you. Which is exactly why I snitched to Sejin.” Of course, Taehyung was the one to rat him out to their manager. He could be quite vengeful when he felt that he’d been wronged and obviously he took not being invited on his late night coffee hunt as a personal affront. The Capricorn energy coursing through his veins absolutely could not let that stand.

Jimin opens his mouth to respond when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He ignores it for the sake of pacifying Taehyung but when it vibrates twice more his curiosity gets the best of him. 

[Unknown]: uhhhh hi? 

[Unknown]: ew that was awkward as hell pls forgive me

[Unknown]: shit I didn’t even tell you who I am wow anyways this is the barista you tried to kill earlier also known as Amira

Jimin snorts at Amira’s messages which piques Taehyung’s interest in a major way. He can’t recall a time when his friend has ever looked so disgustingly happy over a text message from anybody. Just as he’s about to lean over to look at the screen, Jimin shoves the sleek iPhone right in his face. He’s babbling on and on about how funny and cute this Amira person is which only serves to further confuse Taehyung.

“I just want you to know that none of that made sense to me.”

Taehyung is almost sorry that he asked as Jimin launches into an impassioned retelling of the beautiful girl that made him a drink that is sure to keep him up until the end of time. A slow smile spreads across Taehyung’s face as he connects the dots. Jimin has a crush. A big one. He can’t wait to tell the other members that their precious Jiminie has finally found someone that meets his incredibly high standards. Out of all the idols back home, both male and female, that have practically thrown themselves at Jimin’s chelsea boots and it’s a random cafe employee that manages to make him totally enraptured.

“So let me get this straight,” Amira’s eyes follow her best friend Cameren as she paces back and forth across her living room. “It’s a regular degular night at work until some guy in a mask walks in and scares the shit outta you. Lo and behold that guy is fucking Park Jimin from BTS and you make him drink that god awful elixir of the damned you insist on serving to people and he actually liked it?”

“Not just that.” She fishes the napkin with Jimin’s number on it out of the pocket of her sweatshirt and carefully unfolds it so that Cameren can see the string of digits scratched into the napkin. The creative string of curses that fly out her mouth would make most people blush but after more than a decade of impassioned screaming, Amira doesn’t even flinch. Her eyes widen comically though when she notices Cameren reaching forward as if to snatch the napkin out of her hand. She thanks God for gifting her with reflexes quick enough to keep it out of Cameren’s reach.

“Bitch! Let me see it.”

“No! He gave me this because he obviously trusted me not to pass it around and I don’t plan to disappoint my future husband this early in the game.” She replies indignantly. 

“Look at you. All delusional and shit but whatever I respect it.” Cameren declares as she props herself on the coffee table in front of her best friend. “So, did you text him?”

“Of course I did. Who do you think I am?” Cameren opens her mouth to respond with what is no doubt going to be some witty quip about exactly who she thinks Amira is, but she’s interrupted by the tell-tale ping of her phone receiving a text message. The shocked look on Cameren’s face is perfectly mirrored on Amira’s as she slowly picks her phone up from the couch cushion she’d sat it on. 

[Kristoff Hater]: you’re too adorable to be awkward

Amira sits frozen in place as she reads and rereads his message. There’s no way he just said that. There is absolutely no way in hell that the Park Jimin himself just called her adorable. Have the heavens finally opened up? Did God decide that today is the day that she secures the biggest win of all? She’s in such a state of shock that Amira doesn’t even notice Cameren trying to get her attention until she starts physically shaking her shoulder. Amira’s voice box is still refusing to function so she simply hand over her phone to let Cameren see the message for herself. Her friend’s answering shriek perfectly voices Amira’s own feelings.

“He’s typing again!” Cameren thrusts the phone back into Amira’s hands just in time for another message to appear on the screen but she quickly close the conversation when Jimin starts typing once more. It takes longer than expected but the tell-tale ping from her phone makes Amira’s  heart skip a beat at what he could possibly have said this time. 

[Kristoff Hater]: speaking of you being adorable I need a contact picture so go ahead and hand one over and no one gets hurt 

[Kristoff Hater]: or don’t because you’re an autonomous human being and that’s totally up to you but I would really appreciate a picture of your face because I think you’re you’re cute and wow I’m rambling over text which is super embarrassing so I’m going to stop typing now byeeeee

This time, Amira is the one screaming.

“It’s official. You scared her away.” Taehyung claps Jimin on the back from his spot behind him in the van. Jimin continues to stare dejectedly at the stagnant conversation with his mystery woman. It’s been hours since he’d went out on a limb and asked her for a picture with not even a hint of a response. He’d originally thought that he’d eventually get over it and go back to normal but now he’s not so sure.

“Leave him be, Tae.” Namjoon pipes up from Jimin’s left. “It’s important to fully feel and process your emotions no matter how depressing they are.”

“Oh, so now the wannabe philosopher is going to preach to me?” 

“It was probably too good to be true any-she texted me back!” 

[Coffee Almost Bae]: I’m so sorry 😭

[Coffee Almost Bae]: In the interest of total transparency I had a meltdown because you called me cute and I’ve spent the last fourteen hours trying to psych myself up to respond 

Jimin nearly melts into puddle of feelings right where he sits. This girl is entirely too cute for her own good and she doesn’t even realize it. His fingers start flying in response, but his frantic typing is interrupted by another message.

[Coffee Almost Bae]: I believe you asked for this {image attached}

He’d thought that Amira was cute when he’d first met her at the coffee shop but seeing her in this picture is making his heart race. She’s clearly at dinner with friends judging from the crowded table full of food behind her. He’s incredibly appreciative of the way her jeans snugly hug the hourglass frame that her work uniform hides. His eyes are then drawn upwards to her face and he finds himself getting lost in the sheer brilliance of her smile. Eyes bright with a playful energy. Jimin is sure he’s never seen anyone more captivating.

“Yeah I’m definitely in love.” He proudly shows off Amira’s picture to the rest of the group, relishing in the comments about how pretty she are. Jimin chooses to ignore Yoongi’s comment about how he wasn’t sure that she actually existed until he saw the picture. His heart flutters in his chest as he stares fondly at the picture on his screen. He’s so caught up in her beauty that he forgets that you have to actually reply to the text messages in order to keep a conversation going. Until his phone vibrates in his hand.

[Coffee Almost Bae]: OH MY GOD YOU THINK I’M UGLY DON’T YOU I KNEW THIS WAS A MISTAKE I HATE IT HERE 

Jimin’s eyes go wide as he realizes the unforeseen consequence that his awestruck staring has resulted in. The concerned questions from the other members roll off his back as he tries to fix the mess he made. The two extra concert tickets that he’d been holding for two of his friends suddenly come to mind. Frustrated with the way he keeps misspelling words in his haste, Jimin throws caution to the wind and hits the call button. He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate to fix this, especially since he just met this girl less than forty eight hours ago but he can’t deny the nerves coursing through him as he waits for Amira to answer the phone.

“Cameren, he thinks I’m ugly. I just know he does.” Amira whines and it’s nearly Cameren’s breaking point. She sighs frustratedly over the phone as she does her best not to yell at Amira for overthinking and sending herself into a panic. 

“This man saw you in an unforgiving barista uniform, bare-faced, at three in the morning and still somehow thought you were cute.” Cameren can hear Amira inhale to interrupt her but she powers through, giving her no option but to listen. “If he saw you looking like that then there’s now way he thought the picture you sent him was ugly so stop overreacting. He’s a fucking international superstar someone probably stopped him for an autograph or something. Or maybe he thinks you’re insane for losing your shit because he took more than five minutes to respond.”

On a more rational level, Amira knows that Cameren is right, but it’s not every day that a girl actually gets to live out their fantasy like this. So naturally, she’s insecure and full of nervous energy that is near impossible to get rid of. What if his sleep deprivation made him delirious? What if fully awake Jimin thinks he made a mistake? Cameren is still ranting when Amira’s phone beeps with another phone call. She pull the device away from her ear to see who it is and nearly choke on her own spit.

“He’s calling me! I gotta go.” She ends the call with Cameren and answer Jimin’s before her overactive nerves can convince her not to. The second Amira accepts the call, all that can be heard is Jimin apologizing profusely. Somewhere in there he mentions something about concert tickets and soundcheck and her brain decides to finally kick in to get some clarification.

When he finally starts speaking slow enough for her to understand him, Amira is stunned even further into silence. Front row tickets to their next concert with a primo soundcheck position? Yeah, there’s no way she could pass that up, but there is one issue. Their next concert is in Toronto. As if he can sense what she’s thinking, Jimin immediately offers to fly Amira and whoever she wants to bring with her to Toronto. The sound of raucous laughter in the background drowns out his next sentence, so she can only assume the rest of the group is giving him shit for that.

“I can’t let you do that, Jimin.” Amira already knows that Cameren is going to kill her for this when she fills her in later, but she doesn’t want him to feel like she’s using him for free stuff. He tries his absolute best to change her mind but Amira doesn’t let up. 

“At least promise me that last night won’t be the last time I see you.”

“I promise. Now go to sleep before I tell army you’re neglecting yourself because I can hear the exhaustion all in your voice.” Jimin laughs at her playful threat which makes her heart swell with pride at being the one to make him laugh like that. After being a fan for so long, Amira can perfectly picture the adorable way his eyes have probably scrunched closed as he laughs with his whole body. The reluctantly bid each other goodbye after Jimin makes her promise once more that they’ll meet again.

Months have passed since the day Jimin turned Amira’s life into a wattpad fanfiction and since then life has changed in numerous ways for both of them. Amira has gotten a new job. A new dog. A new house. Meanwhile, BTS has hopped from country to country playing to sold out stadiums. Broken fistfuls of records that established western acts admittedly balk at. And yet, despite all these changes, Jimin and Amira’s presence in each other’s lives has remained constant. Whether it be a funny meme he saw online, a FaceTime call at an indecent hour because time zones are weird, or even a postcard from whatever part of the globe BTS has ended up in. Despite their best efforts though, their late night conversation over coffee did not get the follow up that they’d promised to have. 

Amira is on her way back to work after meeting up with Cameren for lunch when she gets a text from Jimin. It’s a picture of what looks like a schedule for the upcoming month and it looks pretty empty save for a flight to LA on the fifth. The image is accompanied with several eye emojis and Amira connects the dots immediately. The second she returns to the office, she submits a request for two weeks of leave time. After snapping a picture of her screen, her fingers fly across the screen with a quick message to Jimin.

Amira hasn’t seen Jimin in person since that night at the coffee shop and that thought keeps her up at night as the days fly by. No matter how much careful planning they put in to try and see each other something always seemed to come up and foil whatever plans the two of them had concocted, but this time feels different. Like everything might actually fall perfectly into place. That brings up the question about how Amira is going to handle being face to face with Jimin again. All of his flirting and little pet names have been hard to handle over text but to be in the same room with him and keep her cool is going to be a new kind of challenge. He’s been very direct about what his feelings are and though she feels the same, Amira has been hesitant to reciprocate his romantic sentiments in fear that what she feels is rooted in her love for BTS as a fan. Cameren has been Amira’s saving grace with her pep talks but nothing could ever truly prepare her for the force of nature that is Park Jimin spending two uninterrupted weeks in her house. 

Jimin arrives in a whirlwind of designer luggage that he quickly tosses aside in favor of peppering kisses all over Amira’s face while she playfully attempts to fight him off. Her terrier Luna runs circles around the both of them in a frenzy at having a new friend to play with her. Amira’s heart is beating erratically in her chest as Jimin switches tactics, choosing to simply hold her close to him.

“Hello to you too, Ji-” His lips pressing against her own stops Amira’s sentence in its tracks. 

She’s always admired how soft his lips looked but to find out just how soft they actually are sends a rush of endorphins coursing through her. All of the qualms she’d had about falling for him melt away like ice cream in the summer sun. Her insecurities suddenly seem so significant as his lips mold against her own like they were meant to be there. A deep groan rattles Jimin’s chest when she gets over her initial shock and reciprocates. He tastes of strawberries and the faintest hint of mint when he explores her mouth with his expert tongue. Amira decides then and there that she would gladly die of suffocation if it meant she could kiss Jimin till she croaked.

They could’ve remained locked together for an indefinite amount of time if not for Luna tugging on Jimin’s pant leg with her teeth, demanding her fair share of his attention. He doesn’t hesitate to scoop the energetic fur ball into his arms, scratching behind one of her ears as Luna practically vibrates in his arms.

“I think this is the part where I tell you I’m in love with you and want to be your boyfriend.” He lifts Luna next to his face and Amira knows she’s in trouble. “Don’t you want to wake up to us every morning? At least for the next two weeks?”

“Kiss me again and you’ve got a deal, boyfriend.” 

[jynzandtonic]

asks + answers (4/26)

Yo yo yo! I’ve been working my through my ask box, and wanted a way to answer some of the anon questions without feeling like I’m spamming y’all with bazillions of short info posts.

Instead of “killing two birds with one stone,” my mom would always say “feeding two birds with one seed,” which is a lot cuter, and also who the fuck is going around throwing rocks at birds for fuck’s sake. 

In that spirit, I hope this type of post is a good way to feed the birbs. xoxo

ANON ASKS:

Heyyy! So you have a masterlist?

Yes, or at least the humble beginnings of one! I just got a laptop last week, so I’m excited to finally get my shit together.

Today, I’ve been getting together all the fic links, and I’ll also be including links to browse all posts for each individual boy. The vast majority of what I’ve written is in ficlet/drabble/HC form, aka snaccs and thots, which will prove more timely to catalog. You can always track #jyn z snaccs for HCs and #jyn z thots for ficlets/drabbles if you don’t want to miss ‘em!

feels pretty shitty to see you responding to all these other asks but not the ones I’ve sent. oh well   

I thought about just deleting this ask like I did with the small handful of similar ones I’d received before posting about pausing writing requests to catch up, but considering this came in just a few hours ago, it’s probably worth addressing.

Anon, I am so sorry you’re feeling crappy about not seeing your prompt(s) fulfilled. I would never want to do something to intentionally make you feel bad. 

For the most part, I answer asks in the order they are received--perhaps peppering in others out-of-order to diversify the smattering of characters/kinks/themes. I write around 2k words a day just for asks. Up until a week ago, I was plinking out every word I wrote on a phone keyboard, too.

The reason you haven’t seen your ask posted is this:

I am just a smol bean. With two opposable thumbs. And a dwindling supply of beer and coffee. I have only been on tumblr for five weeks. I am still trying to figure this whole thing out. I can only write so much. I don’t want to annoy anyone by posting too much shit. I also live with pretty debilitating mental illness... but I don’t need any reason to justify not being able to churn out non-stop content. Yer babe here needs to take care of their basic needs. <3

~~I am try my best~~

Hugs to you. I hope you know you I value you, regardless of how dialed-in I am on this “web blogging” thing.

i loved your thicc thighs snacks and now im listening to lizzo 💖 sorry if this is personal but are you thicc?

How great is that Lizzo album, right? SHE SHOULDA SWEPT THE GRAMMYS DONT @ ME. Anyway. ^.^ I’m so glad you enjoyed the snaccs! 

And hey, ain’t no thang. I don’t think I’d categorize myself as thicc, but I would say I’m on the muscular side. A suitor once told me I had a “powerful butt,” which is (1) objectively funny, (2) a unique compliment, and (3) the best answer to your q.

In general, I’m a body glorifier. All bodies are good bodies. Anyone who says different can go fuck themselves.

the ‘someone you trust’ interaction in Swiped is very ‘i’m the bosses wife’ from don quixote and i appreciate it

HEY, YO, THANK YOU, I AM THRILLED ABOUT THAT RESONANCE

Also hearing Toby say “Yeah, you are the boss’ wife...” makes me rabid.

Nicole really made Charlie’s 6’3 ass sleep on that small couch

There are few things I find more endearing than extremely tall people on furniture that is obviously too short to accommodate them. AD on basically any furniture is in that category for me. 

Also, just to give a quick holler--for personal reasons, I tend to get really squicked by lingering resentment/spitefulness pertaining to the failed marriage of Marriage Story, so I prefer to steer clear of most emotionally-charged conversations around it! xo

You say y’all a lot, are you southern by chance?

Ha! No, I am not Southern. Quite the opposite: Pacific Northwestern. “Y’all” tends to be my default plural pronoun, as it’s quick and gender-neutral. My favorite gender-neutral plural pronoun is “party people,” but that takes a bit longer to type out.

two of my asks in one post! i asked about the baby steps too hehe. would you pretty please tell me about them? i’m so soft for loving daddy clyde 🥺🥺🥺 - 🤠

Howdy, Cowboy! Thanks for being so patient with your Clyde asks xo. I did mean it, though--that gets me a lil’ too soft and emotional right now! Perhaps when I’m not a quarantine sadboi. MORE FILTH TO NUMB THE PAIN!

If I could count down the days until you drop the flip chapter fic I would! I have been absolutely WHORING over him!! Can’t wait to read it!

AWWWWW I am so happy and also JESUS CHRIST ON A FUCKIN BICYCLE FLIP HAS HAD ME WILDIN RECENTLY. I have said it before and I will say it again: something about than man makes my nostrils flare involuntarily and that’s... that’s some shit.

Hello beautiful soul! I've come to ask about my boy Jude? He needs more recognition!! Stay safe!

Hiya, darling dearest! Thank you for your sweet message; I hope you’re safe and healthy wherever you are. Right now, I’m pretty darn stacked with characters to write, and I’ve gotta get my blog footing underneath me more before I consider adding any more boys. In the meantime, stay stocked up on Raisin Bran. ;)

I just have to stop and say you write some of the absolute best HCs and I just love the layout of your snaccs so much

I just have to stop and say that you are the absolute best and I so appreciate you reading and being here. HUGS!

XOXO, jyn z

[saintheartwing]

So Lily Responded Yet AGAIN

“Hey dipshit. I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s a war against space fascism going on. And Aliana literally fucking says “First Order now, deal with these mongrels later.”It’s almost as if they can come back for the business partners and families at a later date.It’s almost as if Aliana’s fleet isn’t going to just be used against the First Order.It’s almost as if when characters talk about the return of the Sith Empire… it’s actually a thing that might happen.“

Oh yeah, but it’s not like that’s a good thing. The Sith coming back is not a good thing. The galaxy doesn’t WANT them coming back and for good reason. The legitimate government of the galaxy doesn’t want them coming back. They can barely stand Aliana. And the Resistance isn’t gonna be okay with Sith running the galaxy either just because Aliana’s at the head. It’s not her choice. What you are arguing for is replacing one type of facism with another, a facism under Aliana’s control. How do you not see that? 

Also, I checked and there’s not one part in the story where Aliana actually literally says what you said she says. LITERALLY. I did a search. Not one “deal with them later” or even “deal with” at all in reference to such people. Or even a “I’ll handle them later”. I checked that too. Not there in the story. So either you’re paraphrasing and forgetting the moment where it happens, or you’re just lashing out angrily and forgetting what “literally” means. 

Also, there was a war against Space Facism when Luke and his friends were fighting and Luke still tried to do the “I’m gonna give you a chance to do the right thing” approach. Not just with the Emperor and Vader but even with Jabba. Yeah, you could argue “well he was kinda doing a mind trick” but at least he TRIED the non-violent method and when that didn’t work, THEN he fought. 

And I know you’re gonna go “Well Aliana ia Sith. They’re all about  traditional perception of morality being thrown out the window”. Which is why they’re not trustworthy and why they’re assholes who shouldn’t be in charge of a LEMONADE STAND, let alone the galaxy. 

Literally every argument Lily makes about ends justifying the means or “you need to get down and dirty to take care of scum like this” was debunked not only in stories like “What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice and the American Way” starring Superman, but also in science fiction. Take the Mass Effect series. Javik of the Protheans insists that it’s stupid to hold onto a high moral standard, to think you can fight a war with honor, “look to the ghosts of the dead and ask them if it means anything. Their silence is your answer”. 

But here’s the thing. His kind did EVERY DIRTY UNDERHANDED TRICK they could to fight off the Cthulu-esque robot monsters that was the Reapers as theys swarmed the galaxy. And in their attempt to fight off annhilation, they had no problem tossing all their morals in the garbage, fighting back in any way they could. 

And it didn’t help. They still lost. If you keep sacrificing a million to save a billion, eventually you’ll sacrifice so many...you might as well have not saved anyone at all. And it also didn’t help that they didn’t garner trust among other races whom they forcibly took over. It helped undo them from within as well. 

There’s a reason why we expect people to have high ideals, especially heroes. And why we expect them to hold true to them. We want people we can trust. And if your morals can just so casually be put on a shelf when they’re convenient, than they’re not good morals. And if they equate to “It’s fine when I do this twisted thing but not when THEY do it”...well then that’s not good morals either. 

I’m not rooting for your empire. It doesn’t matter how cute the romance is. I’m not interested in seeing the Sith take over the galaxy again. And you acting like it’d be a good thing is pretty messed up. Hey, little poll of everyone reading this. Do you think having the Sith take over the galaxy would actually be a good thing or something the galaxy would actually LIKE? Oh yeah, that’d be a great way to honor people like Luke and Leia. “Meet the new boss, same as the old boss even though she’s pretending she isn’t”! 

Oh, also Lily, please stop strawmanning me. It’s not the violence thing. As I said in my previous posts...the good guys have killed a buncha people in fights before. Didn’t make those acts murder. 

Also, I know someone will bring up “But what about Aliana killing Rey’s parents”?

Yeah that was murder too, she killed them in a fit of rage and they were unarmed. They may have been assholes but it was still murder. I didn’t want to, at first, bring it up because part of me felt “well she was kinda in a really bad mood and she got triggered by what they said” and I almost felt bad for Aliana...but reconsidering it...yeah. That was wrong too. It’s wrong to kill unarmed people. Wrong to kill people who can’t fight back. THAT’S murder and THAT’S wrong. 

Then there was the whole “when she went to get the CodeMaster” thing. She killed a lot of security guards. I was SORTA willing to overlook that because those guys WERE kinda armed...but considering I just remembered she ended up killing HIM too and last time I checked HE was unarmed...

Jesus Christ, Aliana has killed a ton of helpless people!

My GOD, why is Lily defending her when she’s murdered QUITE A LOT OF PEOPLE! And she’s just handwaving it away with “she’s a Sith”. That’s not the problem, the story not even REMOTELY treating the fact she casually murders as a problem is the problem!