#anyway now I'm going to fuck off and drink beer in the knowledge that this weekend........I PLANT MY GARDEN!!!

[notbecauseofvictories]

man, nothing like the little thrill you get at work, when you bring up a topic no one has considered and everyone looks at you like....how did you know that???

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Eating Out Of The Palm Of Her Hand

So I'm pretty sure this little idea came about as a result of a conversation with @bigolgay (but there's every chance I'm wrong)

Anyway, it's brief, peppered with mild angst and a tiny bit of Gary bashing (only because it fitted the idea and not because I hate him)

~*~

“Shoot.”

Barb looks up at her friend across their shared table with concern.

“I forgot about that tasting night I signed up for, back when, you know,” mumbled the red head.  She had been trying to expand Gary’s culinary knowledge in a way that didn’t solely involve her cooking.  Not that she didn’t enjoy cooking, but she didn’t like it when it was just expected.  Nor when her suggestions for dinner were shot down and he would suggest bad takeaway pizza and beer.  “You fancy it?”

“Sorry girl, but Taylor is in town and we have plans this Friday,” apologises the kindergarten teacher.  She nudges her friend, however, and nods in your direction. 

Melissa raises an eyebrow at her friend who it seems is forever keen to push her in your direction.  Still, she fathoms, it’s not exactly a bad solution.  You’ve been out together a few times outside of school and are always good company.  And just because it’s a couples thing, well, that’s more of an insignificant detail, she reasons.  “Hey, half pint?  What you doing this Friday?”

You look over as you hear the nickname the red head often uses for you, despite the fact you’re only a couple of inches shorter than she is.  “Nothing why?”

“You fancy this?”  She waves her phone at you and you push yourself up out of your chair to take a closer look.

“Tasting delicious things and drinking wine with you, where do I sign up?”

She smirks.  “You don’t need to sign up.  Just turn up.”

*

You make an effort for the evening.  The e-mail made the event look pretty classy and you were being seen out with Melissa, who never looked less than a million bucks in your book, so if you spent a little more time than usual putting on your make up and taming your hair, well, it was only because you didn’t want to show her up.

Despite the fact that you’d dressed up, you weren’t quite prepared for Melissa doing the same.  Yes, you’ve seen her most days for nigh on a year now, but you rarely get to see her like this.  “Fuck…”  It’s not quite the hello you’d intended, but then again, you were pretty sure it was criminal in some states to look that good. 

“What?  Something wrong with it?” asks Melissa, looking down at herself at your greeting. 

“No!  No definitely not!” you quickly reassure her.  “It’s just…” 

She smirks.  “Words, kid.  Come on, you got this.”

Your cheeks flame red.  “I know I see you every day, but I guess I just wasn’t ready for…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely at her. 

Her smirk only grows more devious.  “Don’t look so bad yourself,” she quips before heading inside, giving you a glorious view of the back of the outfit and suddenly making it rather difficult to breathe.

*

It immediately becomes apparent that tonight’s event is a couples event.  The chirpy receptionist that greets you both takes Melissa’s name and checks her off on her list, wishing her and ‘her partner’, who is apparently you, a lovely evening. 

The red head, however, seems not to care and you can do nothing but follow her lead.  As you settle in at your assigned table, you both share polite smiles and easy conversation with the other couples sitting close by.  They also assume that you’re together, and again, Melissa doesn’t correct them. 

You know you could clear up the situation with a few words, but it just feels easier to go with the flow.  Afterall, it doesn’t seem to bother Melissa, so the only real harm is to your own heart.  It’s something you’re learning to live with.  At this point, you can’t quite recall a time when you weren’t in love with the red head. 

As the evening progresses, it’s enough that even you forget for a while.  Her enthusiasm and passion are things you love about her, and when it comes to food, they shine through.  She knows her stuff and engages with the producers and chefs that have put tonight’s menu together.  You, meanwhile, are drinking her in just as much as the wine on offer. 

You know that part of her being so vocal about tonight’s offerings is down to her finding this an easier way to digest the information than reading the leaflets that have been left on your table.  Meanwhile, you take note of the things she’s been particularly keen on, tucking away the associated pamphlets and business cards into your bag to help jog her memory later if she wants to track any of them down. 

Each time there’s a new offering, you prompt Melissa to taste them first.  It’s not that you don’t like trying new things, but you like to have an idea of what you’re letting yourself in for first and you’ve found observing Melissa’s facial expressions to be both a reliable and enjoyable way to do so.  When she comes across something she thinks you’ll like she’s immediately reaching out to feed you the delicious morsels of food, and it’s not until you catch yourself thinking that she has you literally eating out of the palm of her hand that you realise you’re in dangerous territory. 

This is just how Melissa is, you remind yourself.  How she always is with you.  It’s not the red head’s fault that you want to read further into it.

*

At the end of the night, you’re both pleasantly buzzed.  You walk a little, agreeing to find somewhere for one final glass of wine before heading home for the evening.  That’s how you end up side by side on a small couch in a dimly lit wine bar. 

You’re not quite sure how it happens, but one moment Melissa is talking about new recipe ideas she has, and the next she’s leaning in, her intentions unmistakable. 

You pull back, one hand resting on her shoulder to keep a distance between you.  The hurt expression that crosses her face doesn’t escape your attention.  “Sorry, I just…”

She shakes her head.  “No.  No, it’s fine.  I just thought, we were having a good night, you seemed to be enjoying it, you thought I was hot.”

“I was.  I do,” you tell her.  As awkward as this situation may be, you owe it to her to be honest.  You’re well aware she doesn’t make friends easily, but she let you in, and for that alone, you refuse to let this moment go without making it clear why you’re refusing her.  “I think you’re beautiful,” you tell her.  “Beautiful, stunning, gorgeous.  Take your pick or take all three.  I think you’re amazing, and that’s why I can’t.”

She frowns, not understanding.  The whole evening had gone better than she had ever hoped it might.  Rendering you speechless before you’d even made it in the building had given her the confidence boost she’d needed to believe that Barb’s hunch that you liked her might just be true.  Then there was way you responded to her flirting, and now your words? 

“I can’t be someone who helps you scratch and itch, or fulfil some curiosity,” you say, smiling sadly.  “I can either have you as my friend or my everything, Melissa.  I won’t survive some middle ground.”

At this, she sits back, looking at you.  Really looking at you as your words sink in. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, ducking you head.  “I just…needed you to know.  I didn’t mean to ruin tonight or for things to get so heavy.”

“No, don’t apologise,” breathes the red head, scooting closer.  She reaches out, gently cupping your cheek.

“Melissa.”  Your tone is a warning.  One you hope she heeds. 

“I’ve never been someone’s everything.”

You look up at the quietly spoken words to see Melissa smiling shyly at you.  Your breath catches in your throat at the realisation that you hadn’t been reading too much into tonight.  It had felt like a date because it had been.  “Then maybe it’s about time you let someone show you how it feels,” you whisper in reply, closing the distance between you.

[lpdwillwrite4coffee]

Okay y'all. This is the story of how I owe $17,000 to the guy who propositioned me during family night at a local brewery and now I'm committed to bringing sensible wine options to his house for Thanksgiving.

Our tale begins like most do - panic crying in the living room while my house floods. Because of a freak polar vortex like day in February, my old drafty house and the rust bucket of a boiler in the cellar created a horrific one-two punch that ended in me nearly freezing to death in my own home and almost all of my heating pipes cracking and leaking, flooding my first floor and basement. It was terrifying, beyond stressful, and most importantly to this story, expensive.

After 2 and a half months of living in a hotel, battling insurance companies, daily anxiety attacks, and having 4 grand of insurance money stolen by my bipolar, narcissistic mother, I hit my absolute fucking limit. Friends of mine who are much better off financially than I have ever been in my life offered to help me out of the dark, lonely, and cold hole I'd wound up in. Three text messages and a lot of tears later, I was in possession of a check for $17,000 and had an official start date for construction. Praise Dolly.

A hop, skip, and a jump through time and we're now in July. I'm paying my friends back in monthly installments and trying not to crumble from the knowledge that it will take me 4 or 5 years of consistent payments to get out from under this loan. But at least I have heat. It's the little things I guess.

My friend, let's call him Mitch, and his wife, who unfortunately shares my name but for this we'll call her Lucette, are kindly checking in on me and inviting me to coffee/dinner/drinks to hang out. Things seem like they're back on track to being normal.

Lucette gets a new job that requires a ton of travel, so I don't see her as much as I do Mitch, but that doesn't bother me, as Lucette and I were never particularly close and spending more than an hour of time with her makes me feel like a dirt poor 19 year old who showed up to a nice dinner party in paint stained jeans and a ripped band tee. We are not energetic or socioeconomic equals.

One weekend, Mitch and I get drinks just to catch up, and he tells me that him and Lucette have made the decision to try out ENM (ethical non-monogamy). They've been married for 7 years, have had a bit of a dry spell due to pandemic close proximity, and there's just the general vibe that they want to try new things. I get it! And I'm encouraging. Life is too short for bad sex, I tell him, and he's thankful I'm not judging them. We have a good laugh about it all - particularly the bit about them seeing my profile on Feeld, as they have one too - and after another beer, I go home.

This is probably the part of the movie where the music changes, warning the viewer that some event is looming and possibly dangerous for our protagonist. If only life had such a soundtrack I could hear.

Throughout the summer and into September Mitch and I see more of each other and I take notice of the uptick in chill weekend day drinking and texts. Nothing about it feels off or motivated by anything other than being bored and wanting to hang out with a friend. And because I know about his ENM journey, I think there's the appeal there of getting to speak freely to someone who won't wrinkle their nose and make jokes about bringing pineapples to neighborhood BBQs. In a stunning change of mental pace, I don't overanalyze it. Perhaps this was a mistake.

One morning I wake up a text from Mitch cancelling plans. I'm secretly thrilled - I didn't want to shower that day anyway. But I can also tell something has gone horribly wrong on his end, but he doesn't say what, so I just "yeah, sure, let me know when you're free next" my way out of the conversation.

When we do talk next, he tells me why he cancelled. Lucette cheated on Mitch during a work trip. They'd established rules within their ENM arrangement that she broke. And she broke them loudly, multiple times, and with her iPad still logged in and left on the kitchen counter in full view of Mitch. Horrible words are said, declarations of 'the best sex of her life' are sent to several group chats, pictures are seen. It's bad.

Mitch is unwell. I comfort him as best as I can and he tells me that he and Lucette aren't pulling the divorce lever yet, but he's still heartbroken and scared he's going to lose his marriage. I feel awful for him. I offer to buy him another beer. He shows me the texts he saw. It's officially A Lot.

From that day on, I become his "my wife cheated on me with the guy she told me not to worry about" therapist friend who he can unload on and get sympathetic words in return. I've been imprinted on by the depressed baby bird hatched by infidelity and low self-esteem. It's not the first time, and I'm certain it won't be the last.

Tell me, how's that soundtrack only you, the audience, can hear? I bet it's tense and full of cello.

A few weeks later, I get a head cold. It's not the end of the world but it's annoying. I'm fevered, stuffy, exhausted, and I have not a drop of soup or broth in my home. Mitch sees my Instagram story about being sick and offers to bring me soup. "Aww, that's so nice of you, thank you." "Of course! I'll go get it and be right over." "Awesome! Just text me when you drop it off." Thirty minutes later my doorbell rings. My dogs bark their heads off. I'm a little annoyed. The bell rings again. I see Mitch's car in my driveway. I mutter to myself about why he didn't just leave it on the steps as I go to the door. I look disgusting and I'm flushed with a solid 100.2 fever, but I guess I'm having face time with Mitch now. I open the door and he hands over the soup almost immediately, but with an odd look on his face. I thank him and ask what I owe, but he refuses for me to pay him back. I thank him again. He doesn't make a move to leave. I tell him I'd invite him in but.... *gestures widely to the PJs I've worn for 3 days in a row and the broken capillaries in my nose and the dogs still barking behind the second entryway door* He smiles awkwardly and says it's okay. He still doesn't leave. "So... how are you, Mitch?" His shoulders slump. "I'm not doing great."

Ah. There it is. Mystery solved. My time has been bought with soup and he's lingering to collect on it. So I lean on my door, sniff back a disgusting level of mucus, and brace myself for whatever is about to be said. Turns out, Lucette couldn't stop texting the Best Sex Ever guy and possibly is fixated on him due to some weird aging hot girl nonsense. Mitch tells me he and Lucette are separating. She's sleeping in her home office. The mess got messier. I tell him I'm so incredibly sorry, this is awful, etc etc etc. He stays for 20 minutes to tell me all of this and get as much of a pep talk as I can muster while trying not to sneeze directly in his eyes.

In the interim, I've gotten several strangely loaded texts from Lucette, telling me she's glad Mitch has me and that she knows he values my friendship and advice on things. Alexa, play "She Knows." But I keep things as vague as possible, because I don't want to shove myself even more in the middle. I didn't choose to be imprinted on, but I can choose not to encourage a more permanent bond. Call me a wildlife rehabilitation center.

Being sick takes me out of commission for a while, and I have to reschedule multiple things, including getting beer with Mitch. That doesn't deter him from messaging me of course, but I don't see him for a couple weeks. When I'm feeling better, I tell him we should check out a brewery we've never been to before and we set a day.

This is probably the part when the audience yells as the protagonist not to go. Don't get in the car. Stay home.

Ah, to not be a participant in the narrative.

I get to the brewery and immediately I notice 2 things: 1, it's family Sunday Funday, and 2, the vibes around Mitch are........uncomfy. I turn into a socially anxious motormouth. I can't stop talking about literally everything that doesn't matter, including the child at the table next to us playing a solo game of Uno and the 80's music playlist. I order my beer and finally force myself to chill tf out. Maybe I've picked up on a vibe that has nothing to do with me. Maybe he's just feeling weird. Maybe I'm just insane. All of these options are valid.

Halfway thru our drinks, Mitch brings up the odd texts from Lucette. "I think I know why she was being weird with you." "Oh? Why?" I sip my beer and wait. He says, "So, back when Lucette and I decided to open up our marriage, we had a discussion about who we'd see ourselves dating..."

Hey audience, how's that music crescendo?

I blink. Mitch gestures with his beer. "And obviously, your name was at the top of my list."

And because I'm the definition of smooth, I practically shout, "REALLY???" so loudly 5 people turn around and look at me. Mitch doesn't even look away from me. Instead, he stares deeper into my eyes and asks, "Do you ever see that becoming a possibility?"

Me. Dating Mitch. After months of supporting him through a painful, messy separation that hasn't even really become official. After knowing way too much about his sex life. After all the sad boy memes and depressed 1am texts he's sent. After being forced to read his angry, sexually charged break up poetry in front of him 2 beers in at the bar.

AFTER I HAD TO BORROW $17,000 FROM HIM AND LUCETTE.

I verbally flounder for a painfully long 12 seconds while watching that little girl beat herself with another Uno Reverse card, and finally land on a gentle but firm rejection of the idea. I don't have a chance to mentally process all the messed up parts to this messed up puzzle in the moment but when I get home it starts to click.

They had that conversation in the spring. Around the time that I had to borrow the money in the first place. And while I don't have proof, I can almost guarantee that Lucette vetoed Mitch's suggestion of bringing me into their situation, and now that they're breaking up, he feels like he can take a swing at it (pun? unintended?)

Which means that every single interaction, every single conversation and hang out, every single dollar bill I borrowed is colored with the knowledge I now possess which is that Mitch, for however long, has wanted to fuck me. He's wanted to fuck me so. Goddamn. Bad.

Audience, I bet you're the star at your optometrist's office with all that 20/20 vision. I'm honestly jealous.

No wonder Lucette was sending probing texts with the energy of "I know you know, and now you know I know." No wonder Mitch attached himself to me like a duckling trying to cross a busy road. No wonder both of them were so earnestly checking on me when I first moved back into my house. NO WONDER MY SUBCONSCIOUS MIND HAD BEEN SCREAMING "YOU'RE IN DANGER GIRL" FOR WEEKS.

And before ALL of this, Mitch had organized Thanksgiving at his house since Lucette would be out of town, and one of his friends created a list of what people can bring. I signed up for wine, since it means I don't have to cook. And when this entire thing came to a head, I started to write an "I'm bailing" text to Mitch. But before I could pull that trigger, our mutual friend messaged me to say how happy she is that I'll be there and that she's missed me.

So now, after finding out that Mitch has wanted to get his dick in me for months (if not longer) without even considering the power imbalance of me owing him SEVENTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, I have to pick out a sensible red and white wine and show up at his house at 2pm on Thursday.

Audience. Reader. Friends. I am.... stressed. And in serious debt.

And apparently hot enough to possibly instigate an argument between spouses.

Cue the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving song. This year I'm grateful for autonomy and friends willing to come up with a code word in case I need to escape quickly.

[lilaceas]

white hair

the flowerbud be still down avenue killers & shoots unseen turn in to pretty sunflowers as a wildness is proved by the sun every have heard what kills more than a warm showers did the talkers long rollercoaster girl girl girl girl girl girl girl down the path fifteen losen to the soul were talking & the talk wasn't winged clue of mysery of the beginning & to moutains of cocaine never been addicted darker than the colorless dick of old men, dark to come from a womb under the faith of red roofs of hungry mouths & sinned to hell out not in mama's house perceive no one is angry & feel nothing after all so many similar judge then uttering tongues hides in alice's holes any where fucking in wonderland made of silk & not grass or illusions & lies if we suffer we do this together so sick too mental i'm on hydroponic mint & perceive acts they do limited when change came dressed as quality come from the roofs & good & bad & all mouths for nothing i wish i could be born dead & happy i know angelic way to translate hate the hints about the rebelious little less young men & women but i do not talk i fly & saw moments of devil itself murdering as innocent the jailhouse of souls suicides of the beginning or the end.

there be never kiss of malt liquor drunken snow fallen any more needles & love an actress that only works to buy doses of parfums drinking to it as britney spears lip injections inception made me a dollar i'd trade to sex & every one sees than there is now nor any more beer & youth & soda if been on gold era listening to women or age in streets than there is now talking about when they runned up colder than corpses fighting for their life then a daughter will never be like her mother any more perfection could be reluctante so come over & sleep with me than there is now, morning i'd been on meth seen any other lie when clouds turn your eyes blind fallen for luxury & two pills that make me marry any other guy to be lost & found inside of a battle of my heart betwen middle ones from off 'till bones cremated without gas at my favourite babydoll burden that shut my mind i tought that his legs are warm too skinned pieces of me becomes unseen & ballerina magical lemon receives proof any metal gun in its dipped honey turn.

always a knit of identity if textiles doesn't needs colours so i rob & always as a pornstar distinction & always a easier of life.

to elaborate there no avail, learn & magicity unlearn feel that it is so hard to turn on sickest of 'em all sure musicians does my ex boys drug that's why i'm anemic since a child never tastes so candylike as the most sweetness teenage years been certain sure plumb in the uprights & nasal well entretied he still braced in the moonbeams & where's the moon party high howing the best & red roses full filled garden & reach the cars & when i died till you felt my beard, & reach till you didn't simplistic held my feet, nail polish & lily arose & spread shit all around me the peace & never exists inside those taxi knowledge that pass judgment that stays nectarine tangerine softly all the argument of the gardening how many pay & god know cross at church that the promise of my own & yours i'd buy lipgloss that money isn't mine anyway i'd been on ballerina shoes & a big pretty tiara of crystals & diamonds i'll never put on my finger ballerina's fingers driving dividing it from the western worst nightmare villains aged vixens knowing stars one by one the perfect fitness & now she's supermodel gun & white equanimity city of angels & death & violence of things while they discuss silent & dad denyied like me or love me then of fucking after make me fluffy i'm just as black kittens never sleeps go bathe on jasmine & mirror it & admire myself that's worst for a stratch television young girl welcome is children teddybears every one dies alone built to nursing cakes attribute of birthday of any daddy hearty otty an inch heels a particle of me inch is vile, & love none shall be less pearls familiar than the nest satisfied—see listen to my weak voice i'm a grow up nor alady in shame & loving bed-fellow sleeps diary at my side through the night, & peachy withdraws he peep the day with treading any cunts stuff for salad leaving me the town buy me a theatrical basket covered with blood shall we postpone my acceptation of undrape!

you are not guilty to me just dumb ass shit nor stale nor discarded on your face full of blood contamined with saturation sugar free see through superstition the witches broadcloth & gingham laughing whether or no do you miss old school have you ever been on new mexico am around santa fé dwelling most important stuff than tenacious & so emotionally distorted words i'd never say acquisitive & tireless & its bullshit never killed the floor & cannot be asleep you talk to fast for me i kiss with tongue & shaken away.

darker will be seen lazy bitch & her derealization & screamed at my fun its jokes & marriage after parties since honeymoon is over that they gazing smoke after smoke.

& down the road.

more bouquets of.

flowers have you seen.

forthwith cipher & next.

models generatiom show me.

to a cent america's burn exactly the.

value ofmyself exactly the value of two; victimized extra chic viciously & which is ahead should i act superior?

[ripperdaddy]

the viktor vector romance path + ending we deserve

Disclaimer: This is definitely something I came up with in my head. There will be a few instances that are solely made up so it can tie in with the “story.” This is purely fictional; something I wished happened if there was a possible Vik romance 🥰 This is based on my general knowledge of the game & Vik’s life. All gifs + images are from my own personal play through, but wouldn’t be possible without the help of the Appearance Menu Mod, found on Nexus Mods by the creators, MaximiliumM and CtrlAltDaz. And the shirtless Vik mod by the lovely samsnak ♡

It would start after completing the Paid In Full quest where you pay Vik back the eddies you owe him.

I feel like realistically, the general player would have to be at least halfway through the story to have collected enough eddies. I would say that a good point in the story where we can begin the romance is that you’ve already established a connection to Alt and have dealt with the VDB’s.

I think it would be a short side quest like River’s. Vik already plays a big part in the story overall on his own, so I don’t think it’s necessary to make his “side quest” too long. His romance would just be an addition to the ending.

And as much as I would love for him to be a bisexual option for both male/female V, if we’re sticking with the game’s standard with limiting partners to only one kind of partner, he would only be romance-able by a female V with a feminine voice.

V: Finally scrounged up enough eddies to pay you back in full.

Vik: Hold on to ‘em just in case - you need ‘em more than me.

V: I’m not taking them all the way to my grave, Vik. Here. And.. thanks again for doing so much work on me ‘thout ever seein’ an enny.

Vik: That’s what friends are for.

Then, there is an additional option for dialogue to trigger the romance path.

V: Friends? I think you’ve been in and out of my body more than anyone else I’ve hooked up with in Night City.

He laughs, with a coy smile. “Well, can’t argue with you there. Why don’t we take some of these eddies and grab a drink. You know, to celebrate. Catch up on old times. Haven’t seen you round here much lately, kid.”

You agree to meet at the El Coyote Cojo tomorrow evening.

You meet around 9 PM and you are welcomed by the sight of Pepe and Vik at the bar.

V: Nice choice of venue.

Vik: Thought you’d like it. Haven't been here since.. well, you know.

V: I miss him, Vik.

Vik: I know, V. Me too.

You immediately take a seat and tinker with a few dialogue options, where you can either have a sweet moment talking about Jackie or some surface questions to ask, like how he’s doing, what kind of drink he likes, etc. But it all winds down to Jackie anyway, where Vik confides in you about his past. Judging by how Vik was so affected by Jackie’s death, and V’s (if you chose the suicide ending), you can tell that he has lost a lot in his life, and keeps his circle very small.

You then achieve an even closer, more personal relationship with him. But, ultimately nothing happens other than the usual, wait 24 hours in game for a text/phone call from Vik to head into the next stage. At least now, you have established the foundation for a future romance.

Halfway through the 24 hour period, you get a text from Vik thanking you for the lovely evening. No reply needed, as he calls you once the 24 hour mark hits and invites you out for another date.

You meet at Tom’s Diner for coffee in the afternoon. It starts off with him apologizing for being emotional the previous night and asks if you’re open to hanging out again and going down to Pacifica to watch a fight with him.

Vik: Hey, V. I just wanted to apologize about last night. I didn’t mean to be such a downer.

V: It’s okay, Vik. We share the same grief.

Vik: I was going to head down to Pacifica and catch a real good match later on today. I was wondering if you’d like to come along, think it’d be great for the both of us, you know, as a distraction.

pssst even Johnny’s rooting for y’all ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Johnny: Hmm, interesting.

V: What?

Johnny: Never thought you'd be going out with this guy.

V: Vik's amazing. And I mean--we basically owe it to him since he practically saved our life.

Johnny: Don't tell me you're going out with him out of pity.

V: I'm not.

Johnny: I know, I can feel you get all mushy-gushy. It's almost repulsive. Just wanted to hear you admit it.

V: Eat a dick, Johnny.

You arrive before the GIM and blend into the crowd.

V: Nothin’ like watching guys beat the shit out of each other to get your blood pumpin’, huh?

Vik: This is a real good matchup, V. This kid’s fresh, young talent.

V: You miss it, don’t you?

Before the fight begins, Vik shares a story about his time in the ring and coming in second in the Watson Boxing Grand Prix.

There’s some extra fun options in the dialogue, you can bet some eddies on who’s gonna win, or side with him. The fight ends, and you two head outside.

Since you’re already out in Pacifica, you head over to the boardwalk (where you would ride the roller coaster with Johnny) and he starts telling you about the last days of his boxing career and how he transitioned from the sport to being a ripperdoc.

You both share a sweet moment with each other, reminiscing about old times and talking about V’s future with the relic. This is where I would see Vik confessing how he feels about you, mentioning how grateful he is for Jackie introducing you to him.

The evening ends and Vik asks you to give him some time to try and dig up some footage from his storage and have you come over to watch. You can kiss him then wait another 24 in game hours before the last quest. Halfway through, he texts you and asks you what you’d like for dinner. You can opt for pizza or chinese.

I haven’t seen or read anything about how or where Vik lives. If I overlooked something, please let me know! But for the sake of the story, let’s say he does actually have his own place that’s now introduced in the game. Personally, I think he has a typical bachelor pad, like a really nice apartment. Not too far from his clinic either. He looks like he would just walk to work. Vik definitely has a lot of money, but he’s so humble I doubt he would choose to live lavishly. As mentioned in the beginning, he typically just “sleeps nights” ever since he was over “being a legend” so I’m guessing his lifestyle is very routine. He goes to work, goes home, sleep. Seems unlikely he has a place like the Peralez’s. It would probably be just the same as V’s but decorated to his taste.

The evening comes and you are over at his place. He’s dressed in just a white undershirt, no exo-glove. You get to know more about his family, how he grew up — scanning things around his place. Then he plays some footage of one of his fights for you, while you two have a conversation and share a beer. As you two sit on the couch, you get close, then have an opportunity to kiss him.

then this is where da sex happen hihihi (ノ・ω・)ノ

The next morning you wake up and you two have a heartfelt conversation about where this is going. He already knows your situation, so I would assume he is very accepting and supportive. And with Vik, he seems like the kind of guy who would still want to be in your life and keep the friendship the same way despite no longer being together romantically. So it’s official. He’s your man 🥵 !!11!1!

Like how River gives you the “fuck the police” tank top after sleeping with him, I think Vik would give you his Night City Devils t-shirt that provides you with a significant amount of armor or some kind of cyberware upgrade that makes you invulnerable for a brief moment while using your hands to fight enemies.

Note: I was thinking of Vik giving V his boxing glove necklace, but because it's part of his character's appearance in the game, I don't think we would be able to essentially "take it" from him - unless he gives you a replica as a keepsake. Which I think would also work.

If you successfully romance, during the rooftop scene near the end of Nocturne OP55N1 (despite Vik’s disposition of him telling you to take matters in your own hands and being a little closed off), you still have an option to reach out to him when Johnny advises you to call a loved one.

V: Hey, Vik. I just wanted to say, thanks for hanging with me, until the end.

Vik: Quit talking like it is, V. Just do what you need to do.

V: I mean, think of it. It’s like I’m heading into the last round of this whole thing.

Vik: Well, in that case.. remember—keep your hands up, guarded at all times. It ain’t over just yet.

V: Heh.. I can feel it, just a few more punches.

Vik: Now look at you - the new welterweight champ of Night City.

V: Thanks, coach.

Vik: Last piece of advice from the coach's corner. Just.. be careful, kid. Remember, I’m with you.

Okayyyy, soooo I’m not the biggest fan of how CDPR gave us two of the same endings (Path of Glory). The only difference is that Rogue’s life is spared. I would have assumed that not only would we get to keep Rogue around, things should have played a bit more differently for V if we took the route of going solo against the corpos. So let’s tweak it.

This specific ending; it should be after getting through Don’t Fear The Reaper where you single-handedly manage to rip through Arasaka by yourself. Johnny goes back to Alt & Rogue is still alive. Yes nobody dies!!!

(honestly this ending can apply to any love interest you choose)

Vik and V are now living together in a lavish penthouse, entertaining an upcoming merc to do their work for them (which is now the current POV of the player.) You were recruited by Rogue at the Afterlife, who told you to visit this couple for a real, preem job.

They give you some vague details about the gig and go on for a brief moment about what you will be doing and what you should expect. Vik emphasizes to you that it’s important you get what they need because it’s for his wife, V, as her life depends on it.

As Never Gonna Fade Away is playing in the background, they tell you to break into Arasaka HQ.

Then the game officially ends.

[bangtanpromptsfics]

acacia.

dialogue prompt #1: “Is this illegal?”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: f2l, fluff

word count: 1,590

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing

summary: jungkook is in love with his best friend who would date anybody but him

a/n: these are meant to be for writing practice. feedback is greatly appreciated. it's really short but I hope you like this!! prompt is inspired from pinterest.

masterlist

“Is this illegal?”

Jungkook realises you are dumb, especially with all that alcohol from the party, or more so even without it. 

He takes a sip of his beer and tries to construct a safe sentence which won't come out as rude.

“Bitch”. Well he tried. “You want to rob someone? That too his Balenciaga jacket? ”

You are referring to Namjoon who is busy chatting up girls with his dimples and loads of knowledge, for which he is mostly known. Redefining sexy or something on that line. 

He was hosting this party for reasons you don't remember now anyways, it has something to do with his never ending list of achievements. And he basically invites most of the population of college. I mean free drinks so, whatever. 

“I'm cold Kook, and his jacket looks so warm. He didn't give it when I asked him politely, so let's steal it”, you slur, shifting your body weight around enough to not have your face planted on the floor. 

“You asked him? ”, he squeaks. “You can have mine”, he is removing his denim jacket in the next second, with a look of amuse of course and drapes it over your shoulder, “feeling better?”

“Yes!”, you begin to chime, “It smells like you too!”

Jungkook’s cheeks warm up instinctively. Though sometimes you are a pain in the ass, especially drunk, he had never complained about it. He shoots death glares and unpleasant nose scrunches of course, but nothing more. He'd been your friend for so long, so he should've been used to the random appreciation you give him. He should be immune to your flirty laughs, the way you look absolutely endearing with his hoodie on your small frame and definitely not clench his fist in jealousy when you go out for dates. 

Probably a very cliche best friend in one-sided love story, but he feels so much more complications than that. He was going to confess ages ago, but since you are dumb as I said, would jump around random guys, scare them off with your mouth and wonder why you are single. 

At times he wants to blow a punch to his face, like now, for being so crazy about his best friend, and being limited to only give you some sort of bro love until it's alas the final year of college and he completely misses the chance when you go to Paris for career. 

“Talk something Kookie”, you bump shoulders together to catch the boy's attention who is in deep thought. He was indulgent in walking you to your dorm, and it reaches by ten minutes, and he really just want to fucking kiss you before you go, but he can't. 

He faces you when you rest your face on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about hm?”, you ask. 

“Nothing”. Liar. 

“Well then I have something to say”, you remove your face and gaze on the ground, feeling a little sad already. 

For a second he is hopeful and he doesn't know why. “What about?”

“Yesterday’s date”. Ouch. But as always he is trying his best, “Oh totally forgot about it. How did it go? Any luck? ”

“He stood me up. That asshole didn't even show up. I guess he just wanted sex”, you kick a pebble out of frustration while Jungkook wants to kick his face. It breaks him that he doesn't stand a chance to show you how much you can be loved. That you are more than the body all boys crave and go. 

This time he kicks a pebble, and it jumps fairly up to land on some car’s window. 

“Careful”, you chuckle, “I don't have money for concession”.

“Y/n, why don't you understand when I say someone is playing you? I always warn you, but you choose to do your bullshit anyway”. He is aggressive, but he's just sad; broken. And even though you get it, it sets you off. 

“I am trying to find my soul mate”.

Jungkook couldn't help but laugh out loud, he thinks you are so innocent, so naive to let people run you over because of how soft your heart is. He even bends a little to catch his knees to support himself. 

“What?”, you scoff, crossing your hands across the chest. 

“You want to go on a date?”, he asks. And it takes him off guard too, more than you. But he seemed confident for the first time. Probably because the sober you doesn't remember the drunk you even in the slightest, or perhaps he thinks it'll go right. 

“Date?”, you repeat, “With you?”

“Yeah”

“Like… right now?”

“Yes”, he puts out his hand, waiting for you to join hands. 

What's the worst thing that's going to happen anyways? It's Jungkook, that one person who would give his life to protect you. 

He doesn't say anything for the rest of the walk. It's a bit rushed because he can't simply wait. A whole thunderstorm is rushing inside his veins and he wants to make everything about this just perfect. So perfect that you forget about every date you have ever been too. 

This is surely not the best date he had planned if he ever took you out, but it sounds alright on his mind and wishes it does the same on yours too. 

After a stroll, you're waiting for Jungkook behind some rented building. He returns with a ladder; enough to make it to the first floor. 

He makes sure to stand behind you and assure your safety. The rest of the way up was stairs, several tiring floors and heavy breath. 

He observes your face forms an ‘O’ out of surprise. 

At the rooftop of this building sits the most beautiful view of the city and thankfully starry sky to make things better. 

It's Jungkook’s self-reflection space to be exact. There were things he shared with you of course, you were each other's shoulder to cry on, but ever since he caught feelings for you, he is just afraid he'll end up ranting into a sudden confession and ruin the friendship. 

So he found other ways to cope. You however were convinced that it was some sort of “change” over time. Everyone changes and you believed it was just something of that sorts. 

“It's so beautiful! ”, you grin, “How come you never bring me here you meanie! ”, you smack his arm as you sit down on the ground beside him. 

“I was going too! ”, he fights back,  rubbing his arm. 

“This is a perfect date”, you begin after some moment of silence, “how come you don't go for relationships!? Girls will be so happy to be treated this way! ”

The first part of the sentence makes his chest warm out of pride, but it collapses to where it was before as you end. 

He just knows you'll never know how he feels unless he just says it, without beating around the bush. 

He doesn't say anything and instead gets up to take two cans of beer he had hid somewhere. You are way past your alcohol limit and acting knowingly for once, you reject. 

He opens his and chugs down half of it in one go. 

“Woah… hey Kookie you alright? ”, he flinches when your palm presses against his shoulder. 

“I want to kiss you really bad”.

Bad line of start. 

Your cheeks burn and turn vibrant shades of scarlet, expecting anything but that. But the more you continue to look at him, the more ethereal he looks; attractive, and someone definitely not deserving of petty friend zoning. 

He feels a pair of lips on his cheeks, startling him. He turns around to see your face breathtakingly close. 

He is really slow, studying every clue you give, once he is certain he is doing this with consent, he places both of his palms on your cheek and leans in. 

Jungkook wants to pinch himself because he thinks he is sleeping and it's just another one of his blissful day dreams. But when you nibble on his bottom lip, he thinks maybe not. You are really here, hands on his hair and kissing him. He holds your head more firmly as he begins to dominate the kiss, ambitious to let you know what he had been thinking about you for the past several years. 

His lips are flushed and glossy when you break off of him, but hands still on his body, on his shoulder, taking your time to catch your breath. 

“Y/n...I hope it's clear now. I like you. Like… . I really like you. And it had been killing me for years whenever I see you going behind other guys, sleeping with them just because they agree to take you on a date. Please Y/n, will you give me a…chance”.

Since the author had enough of Y/n’s dumbness as well, the story continues with Y/n accepting him, realising how blind she was. 

You feel already intoxicated by his lips so you give it a peck and hug him, “Yes Koo. And I'm sorry, for all this, and thank you so much for this date, I am looking forward to our second one”, you beam. 

He finds it cute how you think soulmates exist. He doesn't know about all that. He just knows you can make him happy and every heartbreak for you was worth it. So he smiles and nods, nothing conveyed after, until he takes you back to your dorm and kisses you one last time for the day. 

Thank you so much for reading!!

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptsfics

[consumedkings-archive]

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic. chapter twelve: the desire to devour

word count: ~10.3k rating: m warnings: naughty language, .000002 seconds of spiciness (but not really), john goes "we were vibing, right? we had the vibes? right?" for like the entire last half. also mentions of self-harm and elliot's previous trauma. notes: hi friends! i hope you enjoy this chapter! this is going to be the last sort of in-between chapter before we really get into it, and from here it's going to go faaaaast. i had a lot of fun writing it and feeling out these different dynamics. not to mention john being a gigantic fuckhead (but like what is new, lmao). special thank you as always to my wifey and beta reader @starcrier for your impeccable eyeballs, and also to @vasiktomis and @shallow-gravy for lending their eyes as well because i did fuss a bit with this chap. i would be lost without y'all. thank you everyone for your love and support, esp with comments! it really fills my heart so so much to hear back from you, and i am always in the market for friends so do not be afraid to reach out to me <3

She is twenty-five.

She’s twenty-five, and it's her first full day of work. Or, it was; now, she's sitting in the Spread Eagle listening to Pratt talk about everything that's happened while she's been gone, because he'd said, c'mon, let me take you out tonight. He grins a boyish, toothy grin at her—the same kind that's mimicked in the multiple school dance photos her mother covets—and tries to sound nonchalant when he asks how she liked being in the city.

It's hard not to think about how this is the first place she had ever met John Seed, then-Duncan, and how it feels like it's spoiled the whole place for her.

Elliot redirects her attention as best as she can to what it is Pratt is saying. He's fishing for information. They've always been each other's safety net, the person they can fall back on when all else fails. School dances. Picking partners in class. Graduation walking buddies. He'd driven her to the airport when she left for the Academy, even. But even though she knows he's trying to figure out if she's still a safety net, Elliot can't disguise the way thinking about Mason makes her feel—disgusting—so she brings the beer bottle to her mouth and takes a swallow.

The result is her face scrunching up. Pratt laughs.

“Geez, Elli, slow down,” he says, his smile crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “Bet money you're still a lightweight. When'd you start drinking beer, anyway?”

“I didn't,” she manages out around the taste, swallowing thickly. “I just won't let your money go to waste.”

He shrugs, as if to say, could, if you wanted, and swivels on the stool a little. He wants to press again—she can tell—but seems to have the good sense not to, instead busying his mouth with his own beer.

“Mama said Whitehorse let you right on,” Elliot says casually, trying to ignore the twinge of envy in her voice.

Pratt shrugs again. “He's known my dad a long time.”

“Known my mom too,” Elliot replies, dry.

“Yeah, well.” Pratt pauses, and sounds a little smug when he says, “Just because your mama likes me doesn’t mean I don’t know how she is to everyone else.”

“Likes you, does she?”

“Obviously,” the brunette replies confidently. “She still keeps all those photos of us. Remember senior year, she had all of her gal pals over when we were getting ready for prom—”

“Ugh.”

“—took us about 45 minutes before we were exactly where she wanted to take pictures—"

She rolls her eyes. Pratt grins, and then bumps his shoulder against hers. He says, “Aw, c’mon. Not so bad, is it? Having your mom like me?"

Elliot can feel the flush spreading under her cheeks. Not because she's embarrassed, or flustered, but because the beer sitting in her stomach feels rotten, and because Pratt's looking at her with the same kind of eyes he did before—always, always there's the before—and she doesn't know how to say I'm not her anymore, I'm not that girl, I'm different and changed and I don't know how to go back.

It doesn't matter. If Pratt can see it on her face, he doesn't let it show; just pats her shoulder and pretends he doesn't see the way she flinches from his hand swinging into her peripheral, pretends he doesn't notice the way she covers it up by swallowing another mouthful of beer she doesn't want to drink.

“Hudson’s really glad to have you back,” he says after a minute, when she doesn’t confirm nor deny that it’s not so bad knowing her mom thinks he’s a fine enough person. “Been talking about it nonstop.”

A smile creeps its way onto her face. “I’m glad to be back. With her, especially.”

“Yeah, you two always been thick, huh?”

She nods, swallows more beer, and Pratt rolls his eyes and snags the bottle out of her hand.

“Don’t keep drinking if you don’t like it,” he tells her, and then finishes it off himself, setting the empty bottle on the countertop with a grimace. “Can’t have people telling Whitehorse I bullied the probie into drinking.”

“‘Probie’,” she scoffs. “I could kick your ass.”

“Bullshit!”

“Could’ve done it before, Pratt.”

“Now that is lies and slander.”

Elliot only grins at him, the only time since coming back sans Joey getting her from the airport that it’s been a genuine thing; lopsided and a little sloppy but a grin nonetheless. Pratt finishes his own beer now, coughing a little into his fist before he blurts out, “I’m glad, too.”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“That you’re back,” Pratt clarifies. “Y’know—nice to have my friend back. Didn’t like sendin’ you off to the big city, anyway.”

He doesn’t know. He can’t know, because her mother won’t talk about it and Joey would never divulge what it was that had brought about her speedy return—but even though he doesn’t know about the way she has to swallow back a flinch every time he waves his hand in her peripheral, or the way the smell of beer on a man’s breath makes her stomach clench with anxiety, or how her hands are so fucking cold all the time because her heart hammers in her chest, the way he says that (Didn’t like sendin’ you off to the big city, anyway) feels a little like vindication.

“S’okay,” she murmurs, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Came back in one piece, didn’t I?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The scent of roses wafted over her in waves. The sound of bathwater murmuring against the sides of the porcelain tub rippled each time she moved, each time she used the grip of her hands against the lip of the sides to sink herself under; her knuckles went cold with the ferocious grip, but when she went under she was submerged in quiet once more. Blissful, serene, quiet; just what she wanted.

Elliot pulled herself out of the water. Downstairs, she could hear her mother’s voice, spiking frantic even through the floors and the two closed doors that kept her separated.

“...years, Mr. Seed, I have lost years of my life agonizing over what she did to herself...”

She dipped below the water, closing her eyes. No sound; no shrill noise; just the heavy, bloated static that existed underneath the surface of the bath. Only her and the baby.

It occurred to her, absently, that she needed to start picking out names for the baby. Now that they had a guess at what the gender was, they’d have to decide about a name; not only a first, but a middle, too—the last name—

“...find it quite intriguing, actually, that the second she comes back to me after being involved with your kind that she’s got all this—this—”

Oh, don’t say it, Elliot thought tiredly, closing her eyes.

“—tear, just wretched wear and tear, Mr. Seed, don’t you? Don’t you find that intriguing?”

John was sitting down there, enduring a thorough verbal lashing, and she hadn’t even asked him to. She’d said, I don’t care if she thinks it was me, and he’d guided her upstairs and cupped her face and kissed her, long and open-mouthed, and swept his thumb over her cheek. Now, Elliot could hear the sound of his voice—calmer, empathetic, like just knowing that her mother was hysterical was giving him some kind of control over himself—but that he was speaking in a normal tone meant that his words didn’t come through quite so clearly.

She heard the sound of her mother saying, “I suppose you’re going to tell me why you’re not bothered in the least?” just before she dipped under the water again.

What was she going to name the baby? Did she even have an idea of what kinds of names she liked? Exhaustion pulled at the edges of her attention; she thought, I’m too tired to come up with a baby name, and gripped the edges of the bathtub harder. More fierce, more firm; grip and pull, maybe spill the entire bathtub over, tilt the clawed feet until it hit the tiled floor and the porcelain broke and the rose-scent water flooded the bathroom, her room, the hallway.

Then they’d have to leave. Then they couldn’t stay, surely, in a house flooded with rose water.

Fingers brushed over hers where they’d gone white at the edges of the tub. She pulled herself out of the water to find John sitting there, knelt at the side of the tub—not unlike the way he’d sat back at her mother’s house in Hope County, when she’d drank too much in the bathtub and said that he could mark her.

Because that’s what it had been. As much as she had wanted it, as much as she had enjoyed it, no matter what John said—he had been marking her as his. Like that Oscar Wilde poem.

The same sin binds us.

Elliot brushed the water from her eyes and settled her head back against the tub, regarding him. He looked less bothered than she thought he would, having sat through her mother’s grilling and interrogation—though he did look like he wanted to say something, like maybe it was sitting, burning into ash in his mouth, the way she could see the flex of his jaw and the way his free hand clenched and loosened.

Ignoring the nagging feeling that he wanted to ask her what she’d been doing under the water, and the even more bothersome knowledge that she had, at some point, become painfully aware of his body language, Elliot said, “We have to think of a name.”

John blinked at her. Less than an hour ago, he’d been saying Of course I’d come for you, I love you, with or without the baby I love you, and she’d been sobbing into his arms and clinging to him.

He said, “And a middle name.”

“I’m trying not to think about it.”

A smile finally ticked the corner of his mouth, his fingers uncurling hers from the edge of the tub. Reluctantly, she let him.

“Your mother’s upset.” He paused. “She still wants you to play nice for her Christmas party, but she’s upset.”

“I know,” she replied sullenly. The despair of her shame, which had at once both overwhelmed her and hollowed her out, had dissipated in the wake of her indignation. What would she know, that vicious thing inside of her said, replaying the way her mother’s expression had crumpled. What would she know of our suffering? What would she know of our pain? ‘Wretched wear and tear’, like we haven’t been torn up for ages, like she didn’t throw us to the wolves and scoff in disgust when we came back bloodied and battered.

She wanted to be angry, really angry, but like most things that had to do with her mother, Elliot found herself more exhausted than anything. Scarlet had always found it impossible to comprehend the scars she’d given herself, had always claimed to feel disconnected to the ways Elliot had searched out meaning and comfort.

Absently, Elliot wet her lips and let her gaze flicker up to where John had perched himself beside the tub. He looked mighty pleased with himself, having finally gotten his words out. I love you, he’d said, palm flat against her window, I love you, with or without the baby.

And John, I want a home with you.

And John, Marriage is hard work, but I know you’re just the woman for the job.

And John, No way baby, I’m fucking it for you.

Blood rushed through her head, thunderous. John was saying something to her, but the words felt distant, and far away, and everything felt like it was underwater when she moved—not just the parts of her submerged in the bath, but all of it, the air too-thick and dragging on her skin and pulling her down slow as molasses. She blinked a few times as she disentangled their hands and reached for the towel, but John pulled it off of the hook first.

She watched him. She watched his mouth move, and his brows pull and furrow together at the center of his forehead, and the way his breath rose and fell in his chest, pushing and pulling the Sloth scar scratched across his sternum. Just like me, dream John had said, gripping her blood-covered hands, you’re just like me.

His voice, muffled and bogged down by the blood rushing through her ears, quirked up at the end. Elliot’s eyes darted back to his, and she asked, “Sorry, what?”

“The water’s cold,” he replied, waving the towel a bit. “Aren’t you getting out?”

“Yeah,” Elliot murmured. She felt hollow. Her fingers itched. She wanted—

John caught her hand as she stepped out of the bathtub, steadying her while her free hand gathered the towel up against her front. Goosebumps prickled across her skin, the lukewarm temperature of the bath still lingering; his fingers interlaced with hers, and she used it to steady herself.

He was close. They were close. A part of her resented it—that she let him be so close to her, that she let him kiss her and fuck her but mostly that she let him hold her when she cried, miserably, that she wanted to go home. Because after everything, after all of it, Hope County still felt—

She closed her eyes. Of course it still felt like home. Joey was there; now she knew Pratt was, too.

And among all of that, if she waded through the weeds spreading in her mind, if she hacked and cut them away, there was John.

“What are you thinking about?” John murmured, his cologne washing over her, their noses brushing. Her eyes fluttered open and she let out a little breath, that wanton little creature in her head chanting it over and over. There’s John, there’s always been John, nobody will love us with this much red in our ledger. No one but him.

“You,” she managed. Her head felt swimmy, the words coming out of her mouth sounding like a stranger’s—thick with want. John’s eyes flickered up to hers, having fixed on her mouth.

“If you want something, Ell,” he rumbled, the pressure of his fingertips against the back of her neck guiding her forward just a little but not all the way, “you only—”

Elliot leaned forward and kissed him, her hand lifting so that she could curl her fingers into his hair, the towel slipping to the floor. His body had tensed, like he wasn’t expecting it—like he was waiting for something else—and she thought about the way he’d kissed her with Kian’s blood in her mouth, the way he’d been just rampant with desire, the way the way the way—

Her teeth caught his lower lip, a little sharper than she’d intended, and his hand gripping her wrist tightened and he moaned, and she felt that same little thrill as before surge through her. It’s my magic, too, the itch in her fingers subsiding when she dug her nails in and pulled his hair a little, parting her lips against his; John leaned into her, crowding her up against the counter in front of the mirror, the hand at the nape of her neck threading into damp hair.

“Ell,” he said against her mouth, his voice rougher than before and hands planted on the counter on either side of her, “what are you doing?”

She murmured, “Stop talking,” and kissed him again, fingers clumsily working through the buttons on his shirt—her voice came out even but everything else about her felt wobbly, unsteady, craving craving craving the way it felt to have him begging her. Anything, to feel in control. Anything, to feel whole. Dig, and dig, and when you hit the bottom you keep digging some more, right?

What do we do with grief, right?

Burn and erase the image of her mother’s disgust and horror at seeing a part of her she might actually like, scrape it from her mind, dig her trenches deep deep deep and hunker down where she could feel safe, where she could feel strong; soon she would be home and—

And John’s teeth snagged her lower lip in retribution, sparking violent and red-hot behind her eyes with pleasure lighting her neurons on fire.

“Off,” she ground out against his mouth, pushing helplessly at the shirt she’d only halfway unbuttoned. The brunette grinned; his hands resumed her work, and she instead devoted her attention to the belt at his waist, yanking at it as John’s face dropped to her neck, hot breath fanning across her skin teeth dragging against her pulse point to pull a moan out of her.

There was a split second between John discarding his shirt on the floor and gripping her hips to lift her onto the countertop, his mouth seeking hers out again as she wound her arms around his neck. She had never been completely naked and felt not vulnerable at all, felt more in control—but she did, now, when she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled and he moaned her name, a little frantic, Ell, Ell, hellcat, he said into their kiss, let me let me, greedy and wanting as he glided fingers up along the inside of her thigh.

He tensed, like he was going to drop to his knees, and she kept her hand in his hair and said, “Don’t.”

“Hm,” is what he replied, “pulling on my hair, ordering me to take my clothes off—”

“I’m about to tell you to shut up again.”

“—but won’t let me eat you out?” John grinned against her mouth, the scent of his cologne—expensive, stupid shit, but it never failed to feel like it was overwhelming her senses—washing over her. “What is it, baby? Want me to say please?”

Yes, something wicked inside of her said, John’s eyes lifting from her mouth to hers, narrowing playfully. Yes, I’d like that, I’d like to hear you say it like that.

“I know you,” he purred. He dug his nails into her hips, a sound—the wanting kind—trying to crawl its way up her throat. “Know exactly what you want from me. Yeah? So, Ell, won’t you please—”

There was a sharp knock at the door, a pause, and then: “Elliot?”

A near-silent laugh billowed out of John, stifled into her neck when her mother’s voice came through the door. Elliot’s eyes fluttered; her fingers, knotted in John’s hair, loosened and smoothed down the back of his neck, the intoxicating tension relaxing just a little. Heat had coiled in the hollow of her chest, spreading warm fingers at the same leisurely pace that John’s hand drifted up to her hip, his mouth finding the hollow of her jaw.

“I can’t believe her,” she muttered. “Yes?”

“Miss West is here, with her brother.” Scarlet’s voice was tight. “Returning your vehicle.”

Fuck. Elliot sighed, her eyes closing for a second while she tried to gather her thoughts. It was difficult to focus with John’s breath on her neck and his hands on her skin and that fucking cologne—and boy, did she not want to dwell on the fact that he’d shown up with barely anything but somehow also remembered to pack his stupid fucking cologne. But there was a different, special kind of warmth that spread through her when she realized that Sylvia was coming to check on her.

“Hair’s wet,” she called after a moment, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Fine.” There was another pause, and then her mother’s voice, scathing even through the door: “Ensure you are put together, Elliot.”

John murmured against her neck, “So no hickeys, then?” and she swatted his shoulder, rolling her eyes and sliding off of the counter. He seemed reluctant to let her disembark, thumb sweeping the slope of her hip before he dropped down—just far enough to plant a kiss on the gentle slope of her tummy. It was—sentimental, unseating her with incredible ease.

And then he ruined it by saying, “Your mommy won’t let me fuck her filthy, but I hear the second trimester throws a woman’s hormones through the roof, so we’ll see how long that lasts,” to her bump as he grabbed the towel from the floor to offer to her.

She snatched it from his hands, wrapping it around herself. “Don’t say that shit to the baby. You think I won’t end your life?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he offered, head cocked to the side. “Leaving the hickeys, anyway, I mean. Well, and the second part too. About sex. Not the murderous part. Actually, you know I find it—”

Choosing to ignore the latter statement, Elliot narrowed her eyes. “You’d risk Via’s opinion of you dropping so severely?”

“You know what they say.” John spread his hands, almost in a gesture of helplessness; though she knew he was far from it. “Old habits die hard.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“She’s killing all of my angels!”

Faith’s voice was sharp, piercing; Isolde’s fingers fluttered over the bridge of her nose to fend off an impending headache, pen held poised above the notepad where she’d been writing down her thoughts but had paused in time for the girl’s interjection. She couldn’t stand a messy page—ink smears, jarred letters. Unacceptable.

Two hours ago, she’d had Jacob drive her out to where the service was strongest. A flood of emails and texts from her family had been waiting to overload her phone. Her dad, things are looking poorly, where are you?, her sister, I’ve been trying to reach you for days.

“Jacob,” the blonde plunged on, interrupting her train of thought, “you have to do something. They’re being—gutted like fish!”

“You should have locked them down,” Jacob told her. “And you’re not the only one losing things.”

“I put—” Faith cut herself off, clearly taking a moment to compose herself before she pitched her voice low and said, “I put just as much work into them as you do into yours.”

The red head’s voice bloomed with annoyance when he said, “Oh, did you?”

“No fighting, please,” Joseph called from where he sat next to her. His voice was even, elbows rested on his legs and fingers interlaced in thought. “I know this is stressful. But you must keep your faith in God.”

“Santi told me that—whoever she is has been leaving their corpses all around!” Faith’s voice pitched high with distress, now, sweeping around Jacob to come to where they had sat, big doe eyes wide. “We have to do something. Please, Father—I don’t want our people to wonder if they’re going to be next.”

Joseph paused, looking pensive for a moment; Isolde thought he might have been trying to figure out how he wanted to phrase something, but before he could speak, Isolde looked at Jacob and said, “You were going to hunt her down anyway, weren’t you?”

The eldest Seed’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you start with me too, Sol.”

“Get some fresh air,” she replied curtly, “go for a drive, clear your head. Eliminate a problem. You’ve been wearing a hole in the floors anyway; put that energy into being productive.”

“P—” Jacob’s voice spiked, incredulous. “Excuse me?”

He was agitated. She could tell—Pratt, and the phone call with the deputy in Georgia, and the Hunter on some kind of one-man rampage. But more importantly, Isolde thought, Jacob was agitated because there had not been a single conversation between him and Joseph since their argument.

Well, not even an argument. Just a lashing. A public one.

Isolde scooted her chair back from the table that had been set up at the front of the chapel, setting her pen down and stepping away. Her hand landed on the crook of Jacob’s elbow as she passed, and though he made a noise that implied disdain, he followed—not without shrugging her hand off by the time they got to the front doors of the chapel, leaving the other two to talk in low, murmured voices.

“You have got to stop letting this get to you,” she hissed.

“Nothing is ‘getting’—”

“Listen to me,” Isolde interjected. “I’ve been keeping as close an eye on the news as I have been on you. Things are—” She paused, mouth twisting around the words. “There is no room for you lot to be bloody fighting with each other. Do you understand me? This has moved far past needing to prepare PR and build a legal defense.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed. He looked suspicious. “So why are you still here then, Sol?” he asked.

The words burned insult in her chest. Why are you still here, stinging fresh and hot, because it was a fair question. It was the most fair question. Unlike any of these people, she had a family outside that she still loved. Her sister, and her parents. She should have told John and all of the Seeds to go fuck themselves, to enjoy the end of the world, while she went to be with her family.

But she wasn’t. She was here. Doing—this. Finding fresh new ways for Joseph to connect with his people to keep their morale high, keeping the infighting at bay to make sure they looked like a united front to everyone, second doomsday cult included.

“My parents will take care of Avery. You know they’re close with—government,” she replied after a minute, shaking off the unease. “And I told John that I would.”

He snorted. “John says jump, you ask how high?”

“No,” she bit out, “I say jump and you kiss the fucking ground I’m standing on because I cobbled together what the fuck is left of your congregation.” Before Jacob could say anything, Isolde added, “My hands are full, Jake. Do not add to my pile.”

Dark brows furrowed, his mouth thinning in disdain. He clearly wanted to say something. But true to his nature, Jacob straightened back and settled himself before he said, “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine,” he reiterated with his eyes narrowed. “I’m going to the Veteran’s Center.”

“That doesn’t sound like where we heard about the killings happening last,” Isolde protested, eyes narrowing.

“But she was there,” he replied. “Or someone was. Someone was there enough to steal my files.”

“Your—” Isolde snapped her mouth shut, sucking her teeth as she glanced back at Joseph and Faith; haloed in the dim lighting of the chapel, she could see them looking back at Jacob and herself expectantly. She wondered how much they could hear, from there.

Turning her attention back to Jacob and pitching her voice down in volume, Isolde hissed, “I don’t think prioritizing files is the best move right now.”

“Thank you,” Jacob idled, “for your input.”

“Fuck you.”

“Have fun,” he added, opening the door and letting in a waft of biting, cold air, before gesturing to the Book of Joseph on the table that she’d had her nose stuck in. All the better to make Joseph’s sermons hit home harder, after all. “You know—with your light reading.”

Isolde narrowed her eyes, watching him trudge down the steps for just a second before she said, “Jacob—”

“Yes, Isolde?”

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Don’t get shot.”

For a moment, he looked almost surprised at her words—but it was only a moment before he said, “Don’t worry, I’m taking Vidal. He makes a suitable meatshield.”

“God, he’s a talker.”

A tiny ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Jacob’s lips, before he said, “John and the deputy should be making their way here any day now.”

Isolde grimaced. “I was there for the phone call.”

“Are you going to leave?” Jacob pressed, expression stiffening again. “When he does?”

She paused, clearing her throat and shifting on her feet. I should, were the words that wanted to come out of her mouth. I should go. I only came down here because John wasn’t here. I should go, and get back to my life, and maybe get to my family and try to stay out of the crossfire and—

After a heartbeat, she said, “I don’t know.”

Jacob shrugged, as if to say, see? Told you, though to what he could be referring to, she had no idea; she only knew that she didn’t like the way he swung around and sauntered out of the chapel, leaving her alone in the tepid warmth with Joseph and Faith’s eyes on her in favor of the blistering cold outside. Snow had continued to dump throughout the day and night, and had only just let up recently; the members of Eden’s Gate—those who had survived the Family’s relentless assaults, and those that had been pulled from the bunkers—had been tirelessly shoving pathways, only to have their work tidily undone each night.

Fingers brushed the palm of her hand. Isolde startled; she glanced back just as fingers interlaced with hers to be met with sweet, bright eyes and Faith’s adoring attention planted on her.

“It means so much to me,” Faith murmured, “that you would help. Not just me, but all of us.”

Soli watched the blonde for a moment, trying to gauge. The physical closeness was not something she was accustomed to; carefully, she disentangled their fingers, skin prickling with unease. When she glanced up, Joseph’s eyes were on them, on Faith’s fingers falling from her hand but skimming the inside of her palm in a lingering touch of affection.

He was always doing that. Watching. Watching, and waiting, and pinning each movement and gesture and thought and word out perfectly like the wings of a butterfly, just the color he liked and just the shape.

“Don’t thank me,” Isolde replied, mustering a smile and brushing the hair from her face.

“It’s my job.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey, Miss Honey, John!”

Wyatt’s cheerful voice broke through the late-afternoon chill; the sun setting early, people’s breath coming out in puffs of smoke. It all felt oddly normal, given the circumstances of the morning and the way she’d forgotten to call Sylvia once she got home, and that her friend had fished up a reason to come by the house and make sure she hadn’t—

Well.

Still, if there was any remnant of the morning in Sylvia’s heart, it didn’t show in her face, and it certainly didn’t show in Wyatt’s. Instead, both blondes beamed at her, radiant, the second she came out with fuzzy, fresh-from-the-blow-dryer hair and swaddled up to her chin in thick fabrics to fend off the cold.

And, truthfully, to hide the bump. John had reminded her of it, and even though the moment had been a...good one, it had also reminded her she hadn’t expressed this truth to Sylvia or Wyatt. As John closed the door behind her and jogged down the steps,

“Howdy,” Ell greeted, albeit a bit awkwardly thanks to her stuck-somewhere-nowhere-sort-of-accent. “You didn’t have to drive it back all the way out here, you know.”

“Sure we did.” Wyatt chirped. “Wouldn’t be very neighborly of us if we let it sit and the battery died out, now would it?”

“No,” John demurred after a moment even as Elliot’s cheeks went warm, “I suppose not.”

“You all recovered from this morning?” Via asked cheerfully, purposefully avoiding the actual question. Elliot shifted on her feet. John’s hand skimmed the small of her back, and even through the layers of fabric, it felt warm; she wondered if this was what it would have been like for them, had their life been normal. Had John been truthful with her from the get-go. Now, with everything laid out between them—the lies unearthed and only the brutal, unapologetic knowledge that they wanted each other, in one way or another—it felt like they might have been normal. Sometime, somewhere, someplace else.

It was still hard to swallow, all of it. The lies and the now-truths and the knowledge that she did, in fact, want.

“Oh, yeah,” Ell replied faintly. “Took a bath and...” She tried for a smile. “Decompressed.”

“That what smells so good?”

“Y’all get that tired from dress shoppin’?” Wyatt tsked, having pulled his coat out of the jeep and started to pull it on. He grinned at her and skillfully dodged a side-swipe from Sylvia; he had a good foot of height on her—and Elliot—so it wasn’t difficult. The siblings fussed for only a moment before Sylvia managed to fetch the Jeep’s keys from Wyatt’s coat pocket and held them out to Elliot, puffing.

She was in the middle of saying, “Your keys, madame,” when John’s head tilted and he muttered, “Now what is this?”, drawing her attention to the end of the drive. A police cruiser made its way slowly down the drive, carefully pulling up behind the Jeep.

Not beside it. Not further up toward the garage, not on the other side of the four of them chatting. Behind it. Blocked in.

Sheriff Pritchard stepped out, shuffling a little as he adjusted the black, fur-trimmed jacket on his shoulders and closed the driver side door. He’d come alone, which made Elliot certain he wasn’t here to arrest her—and what a ludicrous thought, that he might have considered it a possibility, because the mere mental image of Pritchard grabbing her arm and keeping his eyes in his head made a hysterical kind of laugh want to bubble out of her.

Not me, not me and not my baby, that thing inside of her said, lifting its hackles and baring its teeth when Pritchard began to saunter over. Not my baby.

“Afternoon, you two. And Wests,” Pritchard greeted as he drew closer. He’d earned himself a curious murmur from Sylvia. “Havin’ a little shindig out here, Miss Honeysett?” Elliot opened her mouth to respond, but he lifted his hands quickly in defense. “‘M sorry, forgot myself. Mrs. Seed.”

It caught her off-guard, sucked the air right out of her lungs. It was one thing to hear her mother say John is Elliot’s husband, to hear her say John is my son-in-law, but it was another entirely to hear herself referred to as Mrs. Seed. It had never, ever been that she was John’s wife, except out of his own mouth, but now—

John seemed eager to engage with Pritchard, because he said, “Something that you needed, sheriff?”

“Yes, actually. Believe it or not, I ain’t in the business of drivin’ out to the rich part of town just for shits and giggles,” Pritchard replied coolly. “Your mama home, Elli?”

“Probably resting,” Sylvia offered, smiling politely. “We just finished dress shoppin’ for her Christmas Party not but an hour ago.”

“Yeah,” Pritchard rumbled, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “Heard about your little trip to the boutique today.”

John asked irritably, “Do you need to smoke that right now?”

Elliot swallowed thickly. Her lashes fluttered, eyes desperate to close; the warmth that had flooded her face now felt like it verged on feverish, threatening to make her head swim again. This was bad. This was bad-bad, chop her hair off and run run run again bad, the kind of bad that made a girl change her name and burn her birth certificate and make sure that nobody would ever be able to find her again.

“I don’t,” she began, “think mama’s feeling up to visitors right now.”

Pritchard eyed her, taking a puff of his cigarette while completely glazing over John’s pointed question. “Imagine not. You know, you been a hot topic of conversation lately, Mrs. Seed. Gotten loads of questions about you. Lady from out of town, Federal Marshals. I don’t like folks sniffin’ around my town, you know, especially not the fuckin’ Feds, but it’s gotta make me wonder.” The smoke curled out from his nose, the smoke of a lazy, self-righteous dragon wafting around her.

“Sheriff,” John continued tightly, clearing his throat, “you’re going to need to put that out.”

“We’re outside, Mr. Seed. You ain’t ever seen someone smoke a cigarette outside?”

“Do you make a habit of smoking around pregnant women?” John snapped viciously, and oh, she thought, oh, I didn’t even think of that, because her brain was too busy kicking into overdrive and parse out the absolute confirmation that Federal Marshals were asking after her and strange women, too. Oh, I didn’t even think about the baby.

And then Sylvia said, eyes wide as saucers as she laughed, flustered, “Oh, John, that’s very kind of you, but I’m not—” and her eyes landed on Elliot, and she blinked rapidly.

Wyatt was looking at her, too. Big, big eyes, surely having not only learned that she and John were married but that she was also pregnant in the span of only a few minutes. At least, Elliot didn’t think Sylvia would have divulged that information, and if the shock he was clearly trying to cover up in his expression was any indication, that gut feeling was right.

No, she thought, no, this is not what I wanted. This is not what I wanted at all. It wasn’t his to tell, it wasn’t his to tell, it was mine, my choice, mine alone.

Her gaze snapped to Pritchard. She said, “It’s time for you to leave.”

Pritchard lifted his eyebrows. “That so? Well, good for me I ain’t here to talk to you, missy.”

“Get. Off. My. Property,” she bit out through her teeth. “Scarlet isn’t taking visitors, and I’ll cut the decay out of my own teeth before she makes anything close to the time of day for you.”

Now, his eyes narrowed and the cigarette sat between his fingers, still burning amber at the end. “Excuse me?”

“And tell the fucking Feds whatever you want,” she snapped, fingers curled tightly around the keys until the metal edges dug into the nooks and crannies of her hand. “But whatever you do, get the fuck out of my driveway, sheriff.”

Something flickered in the corner of her vision. John started, “Ell,” and his hand went to her shoulder, but she jerked back from him before he could make much more than a brush of contact.

“Don’t,” Elliot snapped at him, her voice wobbling and the tears—shameful tears—welling up and burning, “touch me.”

“Alright, okay,” Sylvia murmured, “Elliot and I are gonna go inside, and John can—”

“Ain’t here to talk to Mr. Seed,” Pritchard drawled venomously.

“If you’re asking questions about Elliot,” Sylvia replied calmly, taking Elliot’s hand with a firm squeeze, “I can imagine there is no better person to ask than her husband, don’t you think so, Sheriff?”

Pritchard’s eyes were squinted into poisonous little slits, and he took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Mrs. Honeysett won’t be any type of cooperative if you get her up now,” Wyatt chimed in, eyes flickering nervously to Elliot—perhaps both because of the news and because of her outburst. But she didn’t have time to think much about it, because Sylvia was tugging her out of the cluster of folks, ginger and reassuring even as her brother plunged on, “I mean, sheriff, come on—you know how women can be when they’re gotten up too early, let alone they’ve been shoppin’ all day—”

And Pritchard said, “You want I should put my cigarette out now, Mr. Seed?” as Sylvia opened the door,

and John replied with a slick, charismatic kind of venom, “No reason to anymore, smoke to your heart’s content,”

and the door clicked shut behind her and Boomer scampered out from where he’d been snoozing under the dining table.

She had to leave.

She had to go.

She had to get out.

Federal Marshals and strange women asking after her, and now her only two friends in the whole fucking world—

(well, not entirely true, since we still have Pratt, isn’t that right? Isn’t that right, Elli?)

—had just seen her almost go fucking bananas on an officer of the law, had watched her demand he get the fuck out of her driveway for wanting to ask her mother about her, had seen her.

“Hey,” Sylvia said, “you’re alright.”

I’m not, she thought, dropping the keys into the crystal bowl by the door, smearing red against the glass. Her hand stung. She reached with the good, unmarked hand for Boomer absently. His cold, wet nose brushed against it, and he whined, feet tapping against the wood as he bumped her for her attention. I won’t go. I won’t fucking go. I won’t pay the price for what they did to me, what they made me into.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out abruptly, her voice coming out tight. “Sorry that I didn’t—um, tell you. About the—”

“It’s okay,” Sylvia told her quickly, “it’s alright, Elli, it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Elli, she said, without knowing what the nickname meant. Elli, Sylvia said, it’s alright, and Joey, right now we need to leave, Elli, and Pratt, geez, Elli, slow down, an affectionate nickname saved only for folks who considered her their friend. Sans Pritchard. Fuck Pritchard.

“Lots of people wait to tell,” Via continued, one hand coming to rest on her shoulder and jarring her out of her thoughts, which were quickly and rapidly devolving back into the urge to march outside and ensure Pritchard was obeying her command. Out out out, something vicious inside of her demanded, we want him out we want him gone.

Elliot said, “Yeah, you’re right,” but she felt far away—not lost, not gone from herself, but thinking. She could pack fast. She could pack fast, and John had brought barely anything, and they could leave right now, her mother none the wiser. They could leave now and be gone and Cameron Burke would have to—

But are we sure it’s Burke? Are we sure it’s Burke and not someone else, come to haul your ass to a fucking psych ward, for what you did in Hope County?

For what you did?

No. She wasn’t sure. She could only hope it was one singular Federal Marshall on her tail, and not an actual piece of the government body. That was all.

But whoever it was that was asking after her—strangers, government officials—it didn’t matter. That old mantra had kicked in again; something has to be done, the same kind of calm before the storm that she’d felt when Joey had been killed, something has to be done.

Something has to be done and I’m going to have to be the one to fucking do it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pritchard dropped the cigarette into the snow and stamped it out with his bootheel, his eyes fixed on John. Sylvia had rushed Elliot inside, but he didn’t think that had been purely necessary—only in the instance they had wanted to keep Pritchard out of a blood bath. Elliot hadn’t been checking out, trying to keep herself together; she had been angry, and he’d had half a mind to let her say and do exactly as she pleased to the man now standing in front of him in the cold.

“She always been that volatile, Mr. Seed?” the sheriff asked.

“Not undeservingly,” John replied tartly, his eyes narrowed. “Did you have specific questions, sheriff, or did you just come by to terrorize my pregnant wife with your theoretical judgment of her soul?”

“More your speed?” Pritchard replied, lifting a brow.

“Pardon?”

“Heard about you Seed boys,” he continued coolly, “and your...” He gestured with a calloused hand vaguely, looking for the right word.

John smiled, with teeth. “Before I grow old, if you don’t mind, sheriff.”

“Proclivities,” Pritchard elaborated, “for religion.”

Fucking Burke, he thought, with no absence of venom; fucking Burke can’t resist the urge to try and fuck up my life when he’d be better off trying to find a place to hunker down for the end of the world.

“We’re red-blooded Americans,” John idled coolly, “freedom of religion goes hand in hand with that.”

“Mr. Pritchard, you wanna get that car started?” Wyatt cut in abruptly, glancing around like he thought maybe the rest of the patrol might be rolling in any minute. “It doesn’t sound like you’ve got any questions for Mr. Seed.”

“That’s sheriff to you, boy,” he snapped. And then, after a heartbeat, he fished his keys out of his pocket and said, “I s’pose I got all the information I needed, after all.”

“Mmhm.”

John had turned back to the house, spotting Elliot and Sylvia through the front window, when Pritchard announced, “You make sure Scarlet gives me a call when she’s recovered from your wife’s antics, Mr. Seed.”

His gaze returned to the sheriff, narrowed. “Certainly, Sheriff Pritchard.”

“But if I don’t hear from you, no worries,” the man continued, opening his car door, “I’ll make another special trip out here.”

“Goody.”

John flashed another grin when Pritchard’s eyes flickered over him. Wyatt said, “Have a safe drive,” and Pritchard slammed his door shut, his cruiser’s engine roaring to life before he began to slowly back out and make a u-turn to head down the long driveway again. There was a moment of silence, stretching between himself and Wyatt that he didn’t feel particularly inclined to break—after all, Wyatt had been taking liberties with Elliot that he shouldn’t have been—before the blonde finally broke the silence.

“Congrats,” Wyatt said after a minute. “About—uh, the baby, I mean. I didn’t know!”

Ah, he thought, feeling a strange little surge of pride at the way the man across from him shifted on his feet with discomfort, and that’s why Elliot’s mad I brought it up. Her friends didn’t know.

Well, it was better this way, after all. He wouldn’t have taken it back even if he’d gotten the chance, knowing what he did now.

“Thank you,” he replied amiably. “It’s certainly a blessing.”

Wyatt’s mouth twisted for a moment, looking like there was something he wanted to say specifically and didn’t know how to say it without foregoing social niceties, but the sound of the front door opening caught both of their attentions.

“Wyatt, you gonna stand out here like a lemming all afternoon or what?” Via called. “Get the car warmed up, you caveman.” She took a few steps down the front stairs and looked at John. “You’re wanted inside, Mr. Seed.”

A very polite way of telling him that Elliot, perhaps, was in the mood to throttle him with her bare hands. Though he didn’t really see the harm in spilling the news—perhaps with Via, sure, but Wyatt? The cowboy? Like that was ever going to be anything.

“Thanks for your help,” John said, clapping Wyatt on the shoulder before he made his way to the front steps. Via hadn’t moved. In fact, her normally polite expression was eerily cool—whatever amicable, feigned interest she had manicured for him in the past seemed to have evaporated in the wake of Elliot’s own fury.

As he neared, he said, “Something else you needed, Miss West?”

Via’s eyes narrowed. She looked at Wyatt, now inside the car, and then back to John. “You must think I’m mighty dumb, don’t you?”

John lifted an eyebrow inquisitively. “If you think I instigated that little outburst on purpose—”

“What I think,” Via replied, “is that you know exactly what she’s capable of handling. Just because you didn’t do it on purpose doesn’t mean you weren’t thinking of letting her physically assault a police officer.”

His easy-going expression flattened. Sylvia, and her seeing, the same kind of uncanny people-reading skills that Joseph had, too. Seeing his delight at knowing that Elliot would have taken on a man a foot taller than her, pregnant, if it meant keeping him away from the baby, if it meant keeping herself out of the grip of a greater power that wanted her in a psychiatric evaluation.

“I want to like you,” Via continued, taking the steps until she reached the bottom, “and I thought maybe you were here to make a real effort. But it seems like you’re the same person you were before, John Duncan.”

The name sent a jolt of red-hot anger flushing down his spine, filling him up suddenly with a sort of molten rage that only the reminder of his adoptive parents could have inspired in him. When Via went to move past him, he snatched her elbow, holding her in place.

“And where,” he ground out, “did you hear that name, Miss West?”

“It’s called a web browser, John,” Via replied coolly. “You ever heard of Google? Imagine how many John Seeds there are in Hope County, Montana. I don’t need to tell you that the articles regarding you and your brothers, though a bit old, are unflattering. And all I want you to know—” She paused, arm still in his grip. “—is that we’re aware of each other, and that I don’t want anything happening to Elliot.”

“Neither do I,” John replied tightly, “and I especially don’t want someone digging trenches where there’s not a war zone.”

Via regarded him with an even gaze for a moment, glancing back at the car where her brother sat, before she murmured idly, “Kindly take your hand off of my arm, John.”

“Ellliot’s already aware of the any of the information in those articles,” he continued lowly, “just so you know.”

“My point, John,” Via replied casually, “is that I know, and I can—and will—deal with it as I see fit. Now, you gonna take your fuckin’ hand off of my arm, or are we going to have a problem?”

He watched her for a moment—just long enough to consider the dopamine rush of killing her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and slamming her face into the top of the porch, doing something, anything to ensure that Sylvia West was not capable of messing up anything that he was doing—and then he planted a big smile on his face and dropped his hand from her arm.

“Careful,” he said, louder now so that Wyatt would hear, “it’s icy.”

The blonde didn’t respond. Instead, she brushed her hand absently where his had been, as though to brush herself free of his touch, and picked her way across the driveway and to the truck idling just on the other side of the jeep.

Well, that would be one less problem to deal with, in the end.

John made his way inside, closing the front door quietly behind himself and taking a moment to gauge. Just to see what was going on. The house itself was quiet, and Boomer’s little footfalls were nowhere to be heard, and Scarlet wasn’t sipping her vodka in the living room—so.

So.

So.

Taking a breath, he started up the stairs, turning into the hall to find Elliot’s bedroom door halfway ajar. He paused in the doorway; she was rifling through drawers, pulling sweaters and long-sleeved shirts and jeans and sweats out and dropping them into a duffel bag, furious little exhales occasionally coming out of her.

“I was told I was being summoned,” John said, Elliot’s attention razor-sharp and snapping to him immediately.

“Pack your shit,” she said briskly, “we’re leaving.”

He blinked. Taking a step inside, he glanced at Boomer—perched protectively between himself and Elliot—and said, “I thought we were waiting until after the Christmas party?”

“You’re not fucking deaf, John, you heard Pritchard,” she snapped. “The Feds have been asking about me. The only reason they don’t know exactly where to look—whoever it is—is because Pritchard’s a fucking asshole and likes to be as obstinate as possible.”

“And if we sprint out of here,” he replied, “you’re just going to draw their attention.”

“It’s what Pritchard wants.” Elliot zipped the duffel bag shut and then brushed past him into the bathroom, gathering up her toothbrush and toothpaste and the sleeping pills. “For me to be gone. He’ll piss off if I go. And there’s no way he’s going to put up a big fight to cozy up to the government.”

“Elliot.” John watched her furiously gathering things up, and then when she came by again he caught her with his hands. “Ell, just slow down—”

“Stop,” she bit out, “stop telling me what to fucking do, John, and—I told you not to touch me.”

He lifted his hands from her, but not far enough that she could duck past. “Are you that mad about Sylvia and Wyatt knowing you’re pregnant?” When she didn’t answer, and instead hauled the bag over from the other side of the bed to be close to her so that she could dump the collections from the bathroom into it, he sighed. “I didn’t know you hadn’t told them, but I don’t understand what all of the secrecy is about. The baby isn’t—”

“I felt normal!” Elliot replied sharply, her voice pitching a little higher now, and John heard the wet wobble in it too—the way the timbre of her voice thickened and rounded out with the threat of oncoming tears, her cheeks flushed with anger and maybe shame and pain, too. “Okay? I felt—I f-fucking felt normal, for once, and it was enough that Sylvia knew you and I had been—that we’re married, which I don’t even want to dig into right now, but it was another to be like—yes, the father of my fucking child, who I’m actually married to even though I didn’t want it, is here and oh, by the way? He’s part of a cult. Yeah, a fucking doomsday cult. I’m carrying the child of a doomsday cultist.”

“How was I supposed to know?” he demanded. “How was I supposed to know that you didn’t want Sylvia and her brother knowing you were pregnant? You never said. And what does it matter?” And then, feeling the petulance well up inside of him: “I know it probably felt nice, to have Wyatt giving you attention—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked, incredulous. “You’re really pulling that now? So, what—you dumped the news because you wanted to make sure my friend found me as off-limited as possible?”

John crossed his arms over his chest. “I know this may come as a shock to you,” he said, feeling the tension peeling apart behind his eyelids, “I really didn’t want Pritchard smoking near my baby.”

“My baby.” Elliot jammed her finger into his chest, just above his heart, her words vicious. “It’s our baby, or it’s my baby, but there isn’t a single fucking universe where the only person this baby is beholden to is you.”

“He’s,” John corrected, tartly. “He’s our baby. And at the end of the day, whether you like it or not—”

“Have you ever,” she cut in over him, biting the words out between her teeth, “done anything for me that wasn’t for you too?”

Watching her, the words sat sticky in his chest. His instinct was to say, of course I have, but that wasn’t true. Of course it wasn’t. And he wasn’t going to pretend like it was, either—because he wasn’t ashamed that everything he had done had been for them, that if Elliot wasn’t his then there would be no point in it, that it was a zero sum game where he either had her or he had nothing.

He said, evenly, “No.”

Elliot looked unseated by his honesty. She swept her fingers across her forehead tiredly and turned back to her bag. “Then do me a favor and pack your shit so we can go.”

John sighed. “Don’t you think—”

“John,” she bit out, “I am making an executive decision.”

“Alright, Ell.”

“And—”

John had turned to the door to go gather what few of his belongings he’d had when Elliot cut herself off, drawing his eyes over his shoulder to her again. She looked unwell—stressed, feverish, her hands buried into the duffel bag maybe to hide the shaking and her face flushed and her brows furrowed together.

“Thank you,” she managed out after a minute, “for being honest. For once.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pratt brushed the snow from his hair, teeth chattering as he waded through knee-deep snow out towards the water. It had been three days, and Helmi had told him to meet her out there—how she was going to get past the compound’s security, Pratt didn’t know, but he also thought it probably was best not to dwell on the things that Helmi would do (and could do) to get where she needed to be.

Which is why he found himself less and less surprised to find her standing at the edge of the water, in the middle of the night, swathed up to her jaw in dark, heavy fabrics. The only part of her that wasn’t covered were her hands; the closer he got, he could see she was turning a smooth, dark rock over and over in her hands, passing it between them as she watched him come nearer.

“You remembered,” was how she greeted him, most of her face cast in shadow thanks to the high position of the moon behind her. Pratt shivered and jammed his hands into his coat pockets.

“Yeah, well, kinda hard to forget,” he replied. “Considering it’s been looming over me for the last few days.”

“Poor thing,” Helmi agreed, not sounding sympathetic at all. “Did you call her?”

Pratt paused, clearing his throat. There was something that didn’t quite sit right with him, knowing that he had called Elliot not out of a cry for her help—not really, anyway—but because this other cult wanted her. This cult, which had tore its way through Hope County splitting and gutting its residents, wanted her. And Helmi didn’t seem keen on telling him why.

“I did. They just got word that she and John are on the road now,” he said after a moment. “What, uh—do you want her for, anyway?”

Helmi quirked a brow at him, the corner of her mouth tilting upwards. “Shouldn’t you have asked that before making the phone call, if it was going to bother you?”

A little lick of shame and embarrassment crawled red-hot into his cheeks, and he scoffed, turning his face away. “Well, you said you wanted her alive. Can’t say the same for the Seeds.”

“She’s carrying John’s child,” Helmi pointed out. “You think they’d kill her still?”

Pratt grimaced. It was still hard to stomach—the idea that Elliot was with John. Or had been, at one point. It didn’t sound like things were going great, and he could only imagine why. Still—

Still, he thought there was a lesser of the two evils, and Helmi sounded like it. Maybe not the others, but Helmi.

“They don’t have a problem killing babies,” Pratt replied after a minute. “What are you going to do, once she gets here? They won’t let her leave, and they definitely won’t let you in.”

Now, the blonde grinned—pearly teeth in the dark of the night, surprisingly satisfied with herself. “Big one’s pissed at me, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Well, you know, Faith too. You've been killing her angels.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got a plan. You know exactly as much as you need to know right now. Are you eating?”

The question came so quickly that Pratt didn’t have time to register the oddness of it, replying on automatic the same way he had been with Arden’s consistent, gentle pestering: “Yeah, I mean—don’t have much of an appetite, but...”

His voice trailed off and he glanced back at the woman. Her head was cocked and her eyes were fixed on him expectantly. “What?”

“Eat,” she told him. “Take advantage of as much as you can. And most of all, listen. Any information you can get will be helpful.”

Pratt’s throat felt a little tight. He kept thinking about the way Jacob had grabbed his shoulder, laughing when he’d insulted the woman doing the heavy lifting for Joseph—grinning like a fucking wolf, like he was going to be dinner, next.

He managed out, “He’ll kill me. If he suspects. He’ll take—everything, from me.”

Helmi planted a hand on his shoulder. The gesture made him want to flinch, but he bit back the urge, and he thought maybe she’d seen but didn’t say.

“He already took everything from you,” she replied lightly, “and do you know what that means?”

The dark of her gaze was intense, piercing even in the late night; it made it hard to look away. Voices echoed back in the compound, and briefly, he thought maybe they’d noticed his absence—but he only shook his head.

“It means you have nothing to lose,” Helmi murmured, “and everything to take back from him.” Her hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck, the pad of her thumb sweeping up to his pulsepoint pensively. “See? Your heart is beating, and hard. Your blood knows it’s what you want, even if you don’t yet.”

Swallowing thickly, he nodded his head once. Nothing to lose, and everything to take back. Could he? Could he get things back? Is that what Helmi had done? What Elliot had done?

“And don’t fuck it up,” she added, dropping her hand from his neck and zipping her coat up. Leaving so soon. She grinned. “Or I’ll gut you myself. And I guarantee, it won’t be an Återfödelse.”

A nervous, almost hysterical little laugh bubbled up out of him. Helmi shot him a look and then brushed past him, heading back into where the brush became the thickest, calling over her shoulder, “See you in a few days, Staci Pratt.”

A few days. A few days, Elliot would be back, and John Seed would be back, and Helmi would be seeing him. Seeing them. Maybe it would be better to make a break with Elliot, once she got in—but what if she didn’t want to? What if she was one of them?

Pratt let out a puff of hot breath, digging the heel of his palm into his eyesocket while the pain bloomed just there, turning and beginning to trudge back to the compound before anyone noticed his absence. Each scrape and puff of snow fell in line with his heartbeat, the mantra on and off again.

Nothing to lose.

Everything to take back.

[ethereals-angel]

Ethereal III

/ — extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world. /

《 Ethereal (I) 》 《 Ethereal (II) 》 《 Ethereal (III) 》

"Where were you last night?" Junmyeon asked, taking a seat beside you, two bottles of beer in his hands, "you disappeared."

You huffed, taking the beer he's handing you, "somewhere."

He was going for a sip of his beer when he laughed, almost spilling the liquid all over him. You eyed him in annoyance as he shook his head, a smile playing on his face, "you really like him, don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know what I mean."

You rolled your eyes, going for a drink. You leaned against the couch as you swallowed, a sigh leaving your lips. "Shut up."

"If you like him so much then why don't you do something about it?" He chuckled, "you're you. Everybody wants you."

"He knows I killed Kyo."

Apparently, that silenced him. You drank more, enjoying the burn you're experiencing, not bothering to acknowledge the irritating feeling in your heart. You didn't know what ached more after finishing the bottle in one go, your throat or your little organ.

"Then if he likes you, he'll accept you for you."

You don't even know if you want to be you.

Even though you didn't want to, you went to class few moments later, fed up by Junmyeon's complains about how you should attend your classes to come out as a normal student, at least. You snorted, as if they would think you are a normal student. Your mind flew, you didn't want to admit it but you knew you miss him. You didn't see him since last night until now, and it's bothering you. You wanted to wait for him outside his classroom like you always do but you were pretty sure he wouldn't like to see you right now.

You were always that kind of person who didn't care about what others may think of you. It's all true, anyway, why would you sweat about it? You know exactly what you are and it didn't bother you since then, after that incident, not at all. But after meeting Baekhyun, that changed. You were constantly afraid of doing things you always do because you didn't want to scare him off. You wanted to be a different person, away from who you really are. You wanted to get rid of the lingering smell of blood of people you've killed with your bare hands, you wanted to erase the sound of their screams and cries as they begged you to spare their lives ringing in your ears whenever you're alone. You just want the angel you knew you didn't deserve with you, as much as possible.

You craved how he makes you crazy. You fed off his innocence. He makes you feel human, even if you knew how big of a monster you are. He's your escape, your own paradise. After last night, you didn't know what to do. You just want him. Your fingertips are aching to touch him so bad right now, it's almost painful.

You took in a deep breath, immediately leaving the classroom once you heard the bell ring.

Staying at your bright lonely flat made you even livid that night, sitting by the couch and staring at the situation outside as the raindrops continued to fall harshly. You can't stop thinking about him, you thought your head's gonna break. So, you drove. You drove as fast as you can, not bothered by the fact that it's so much slippier this time.

You found yourself in a middle of a nightclub you're very familiared with. You realized you've never came back here after you met him. Taking a deep breath, you sat by the bar counter. The bartender immediately recognized you, he started preparing the drink you've always order, not bothering to have a small talk with you, probably sensing you were not in a mood to speak.

You stared at a spot, not really paying attention to anything, just downing your drink all by yourself. Almost all the people around you probably know who you are, well, everyone knows who you are. Different perspectives and knowledge, though. The only common thing is to never mess with you, they know better. However, that didn't stop him from approaching you.

"I missed you."

You smirked, downing the alcohol you were lightly swirling before he sat beside you. You turned to observe him. Nothing changed, same old pretty face. "Oh, I'm sure you did."

He didn't hesitate grabbing you, crashing his lips on yours. You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving to sit on his lap. You tugged on his hair a little harshly, just like what you always do. You continued on kissing him expertly, tasting him after a long time.

You faltered, images of Baekhyun started flodding your head. You kissed him harder, hand running through hair, wishing he was him, wishing he was your Baekhyun. You gripped onto his body, squeezing your eyes shut. He was the first one to pull away, his eyes hazy as he stared back at you. You blinked quite a few times when you started seeing Baekhyun's face instead of his.

I'm going crazy.

"Soo." You breathed, letting him shower your neck with kisses. You held his head as he nibbled on your skin. Your closed your eyes as you bit on your lip, not wanting to put your mind into the uneasiness you're feeling.

You stared ahead, at the crowd, either dancing or talking. You let out a gasp when a pair of eyes burnt holes as he stared at you, standing at the middle of so much people, you saw him. "Baekhyun."

You flinched, away from Kyungsoo. You pushed yourself off him, your eyes never leaving the boy. Your head pounded, you felt dizzy, you didn't know if it was because of the kissing, the alcohol, or Baekhyun.

You saw him turn around, going for the door to leave. You hissed, "what is he even doing here?" You ran, squeezing through the crowd. You were panting when you reached the door, pushing it open. The cold breeze welcomed you, still raining.

You immediately spotted him, his back facing you, you breathed, "Baek..."

He turned, looking at you, his cheeks flush from the coldness of the air, "hi..."

"What are you doing here?" You stepped forward, still giving him a fair amount of space no matter how much you were itching to get your hands all over him. You weren't sure if he would appreciate you touching him, the thought making you frown.

"I went to look for you," he avoided your eyes, biting his lip, "you didn't wait for me at school."

"What?"

"I waited for you!" He lifted his head, annoyance clear in his tone, "you left so early last night, then you didn't even bother seeing me at school, and now, I saw you kissing someone else."

You looked at him in bewilderment, not knowing what to say. He pouted at you, continuing his words, "I thought you liked me."

"Baek-"

"Why were you kissing him anyway? Is it because he's manlier than I am? You should've told me!" His stance falling, shoulders slumped, "I would've been better for you."

You panicked, for the first time in so many years, you fucking panicked, "no! Of course not!" You breathed heavily, still confused and speechless as hell, "I thought... I thought you hated me."

He let out a cute 'huh', tilting his head like a puppy, "why would I hate you?"

"You knew about what really happened with Kyo, I assumed-"

"You think that would make me hate you?" You blinked a few times when he leaned in, placing a kiss on your lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you to him, "I could never hate you." He lowered himself, resting his cheek on your breast, "I like you so much, Raven. I really really do."

You stayed frozen for god knows how long, you killed the person he's almost seen as a father and he's not even a percent mad at you for it. You were breathing heavily when you wrapped your arms around him, returning his hold which he immediately tightened. "Do you still like me?"

Though, puzzled, mind running on and on about how he very surprisingly reacted in the situation, you nodded your head. "Of course." You lifted your hand to caress his hair, playing with it as you couldn't help but furrow your eyebrows, staring ahead at an empty space.

It may be strange, he may be strange but you were happy. So happy, you thought you could float. You were feeling so high in the moment, you let out a smile, twisted, so twisted.

You held his hand in yours, not minding any of the stares and whispers you're getting, silently dragging Baekhyun towards Room 88 after asking him if he's comfortable with all the attention. He nodded, saying that he'll always be comfortable if he's with you.

You opened the door, revealing the gang, complete. "Hey, man. Come on, I missed my class for this." Luck said, rolling his eyes, throwing darts in his hands.

Chanyeol walked towards you, peaking at the person hiding behind your back, "well, well, well," he grinned, "you finally brought him here."

You felt Baekhyun clutch your shirt in his hand from behind, making you look back at him, "you'll be okay." You whispered, kissing his forehead.

You introduced him to your friends. They have been very friendly, especially the men. You decided to bring him to the flat the gang have been staying in whenever anyone wants to. You are sitting in the couch, a beer in your hand with Junmyeon sitting beside you, playing poker with the others. You didn't play to keep an eye on Baekhyun. You watched as he laughed and played with your friends, his shy demeanor quickly disappearing by their loudness and teasing. You smiled lightly, happy to see him enjoy himself with the gang.

It's very rare to bring just anyone in here. It takes time before everyone agree to let someone see what you do. For Baekhyun's case, he's here because they already know him, he's constantly being used as a way to tease and annoy you, and of course, even if they say no to you, it's not like you'll listen.

You took a sip from the bottle you're holding, shaking your head at their antics.

You turned your head when you heard Yixing calling your name, you raised your brow at him, waiting for him to say something because he seemed to be in shock,

"Kyungsoo was murdered."

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 75)

"Pitts✈LA✈Philly"

@creatureofthen1ght-v3

@lovemythsworld

@crystalbaby12

📷 manip cred @southsidequeenie

Colson wakes up groggy on the back of The Bus. Reaching for Luna with his eyes still closed, he's irritated when he remembers she's not there. Pulling his phone out, he looks to see if she called or anything. Nothing.

"She's always off somewhere...." He sighs, thinking to himself. Appreciating that Luna's independent but also feeling a bit lost himself when she's gone. Finding her was like growing an extra limb. When she's not near, his body has a phantom ache for her. "Lemme hit her up." He decides.

Shooting her a quick Snap, he sees his laptop sticking out of one of his bags. He pulls it out and digs through his red LV travel bag. Finding the things he wants, he settles back onto the bed.

Popping the flashdrive in that Luna gifted him for his birthday, he opens the file.

Sliding his hand down his pants, he starts stroking his cock in anticipation. Colson jerks off to himself fucking Luna for the first time. Watching himself with her. How they move and talk with each other. Her dominance and submissiveness, driving Colson to the brink. Throwing himself back, he explodes when his mind wanders to her warm mouth sucking his dick the morning she had given it to him to watch.

"God Damn, Loons..." He thinks of his future wife as he chuckles to himself.

Still sexually pleased by her. Even 3K miles apart.

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

Landing at LAX there's an unseasonable chill to the air. Luna pulls on a soft gray sweater. Knocking her bandana off. Shoving it into her bag, She pulls out a pair of sunglass.

Hopping an uber to Frannie's, she notices a Snap from Colson. He looks miserable.

"What an Asshole..." She laughs to herself. Snapping him back with sass and love.

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

"OH MY GLOB! OH MY GLOB! OH MY GLOB!! OH MY GLOB!!!! Paris burts out, squeezing Luna.

Luna having told her and Frannie about her engagement. P let's her go, wanting to pop a bottle, asking Frannie if she has champagne. Luna and Frannie laugh as they hug and Frannie gives P directions. Still holding tightly onto Luna. Her bestfriend's a bit cynical and rightfully so, considering her own current divorce.

"I'm so happy for you!" Frannie gushes to Luna.

Knowing her Soul Sister all too well, Luna pulls out of the hug. She winces a bit, forgetting to take any pain meds for her gunshot wound.

"What was..." Frannie goes to ask.

Luna interjects. "Buuuutttt....??" She asks with eyebrows raised.

"But don't make the same mistake I did. I don't care how much you love him. Get a prenup. At least for your family's history." Frannie sighs, advising from knowledge.

Luna pulls her back into their hug. Squeezing Frannie tight. She had half expected this.

"I hear you, Frans." She says softly in her ear.

Both girls squeeze each other. Over a decade of love, life, pain and understanding passing through them. The pop of the champagne bottle startles them as they break apart, laughing.

"LOONS IS IN LOOOOOVE AND GETTING MARRIED!!!!" P shouts, handing glasses off.

The three bestfriends cheers and laugh together. Luna asking to keep it kinda low key until she tells her grandmother and Colson his daughter. Her two friends nodding.

The girls have lunch. Talking and sharing champagne. Admiring the sweetness of her ring. Luna telling them the plan to get married in TownHall before the first weekend in August. Inviting them to both the intimate affair and the weekend rager. Frannie and Paris laugh at Luna's usual unconventional way of doing things. Excited about the festivities. They share a joint before Luna has to go. She has a performance with Ashley tonight.

The three bestfriends hug when Luna's uber arrives. Congratulating her again. Giving her Love and Kisses with their See Ya Soons.

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

"Spill it." Paris says to Frannie once they've waved Luna GoodBye. "It's just quick. We seen 'em together, what? Once? And we were tripping balls. Everything's glorious when you're tripping balls." Paris throws her arm around Frannie's shoulder as they walk inside. "Then let's hang out with em. AND." She snaps the fingers of her free hand. "We gotta start planning her birthday party soon. Soooo... We're gonna need to talk to him anyway." P makes very valid points with her grin. Heading inside Paris can't help but ooze for her friend. She loves Luna and she love Love. Pulling up an old picture of them, P Congraulats one of her bestfriends on the sly. Or so she thinks.

"The peanut butter to my jelly. The Rock to my Roll. I love you and am over the moon!!!

💖🎉🎡🤘💫✨😍"

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

The Boys are in Philadelphia staying in Rittenhouse Sq. Right in the heart of the city. Colson, Slim and Baze have friends who live off of Lombard. Ashleigh hangs back, glad to be rid of their madness.

Walking over Colson gets a Snap from Luna.

Laughing, he plucks a flower off a bush. Popping it behind his ear. Grinning as he Snaps her back.

"What up, Dawg!!"

They're greeted by their friend Tyree. Finding LaMar in the kitchen rolling up. Its Dark and Hell is Hot blares through the Philly condo. Cracking beers, slamming shots, they burn and catch up.

Soon heading to Cheerleaders, a stripclub/sports bar close by.

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

"You got something you wanna tell me?" Ashley blurts out to Luna.

"Well, Hello to you too, Pal." Luna responds laughing.

"Why's Paris BooLoven' you on Insta?" Ashley questions her.

"Seriously? What's it say?" Luna sighs.

"Nothing really but that she loves you and is Over the Moon" Ashley air quotes.

"Okay... Listen, I didn't call you because it literally happened last night and I wanted to tell you in person today..." Luna begins to explain.

"Okayy..." Her bestfriend peers at her.

Holding her phone in her hands so that Ashley can't see her fingers, Luna continues.

"Colson asked me to marry him last night." Luna tells her.

Stunned, Ashley says "Noooo..." With wide eyes. "What did you say?" She asks.

Luna shrugs before breaking into a grin. "I said Yeah."

Ashley squeals, grabbing for Luna's hand. Looking at the contraption on her left hand.

"What is this shit?" She asks bluntly.

Laughing, Luna explains how he forgot the ring but made her one out of his guitar string. And to shut the fuck up because she loves it.

"No... That's really... REEALLY You&Kells." She laughs, grinning.

Ashley pulls Luna in for a tight hug. Congratulating her bestfriend, telling her how happy she is for the couple. They link arms as they head to the stage to rehearse for tonight. Talking wedding plans along the way.

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

Cheerleaders is loud. Colson paying more attention to the Indians game than the girls.

Slim noticing the difference. Still his normal goofy, loud self, Colson interacts with the girls, talking and signing autographs but declines them on his lap.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Mar notices it also.

"He's getting maaaarried...." Baze teases Colson.

"YOOO!??" Ree flips around entering the conversation. "Tell me it's to that sweet piece of ass you did Bad Things wit!"

"Who???" Mar jumps back in.

Colson laughs, pulling a picture of Luna up on his phone. It's a simple sideshot of her.

"Damn, she got more tattoos than you do, Son!!" Mar exclaims.

"She looks like a fucking badass, Homie. How your lanky ass score that??" Ree busts Colson's balls.

"She knows what it is." Colson smirks.

Slim, Baze, Benny and Rook burst out laughing at him.

"Yo. LunaTic will fuck you up, Kells!" Rook calls him out.

Slim turns to their friends, explaining how Luna does NOT take anyone's shit. Including Kells. Joking that in the last two months that she's been around, he's seen her open more cans of whoop ass than Stone Cold Steve Austin could've ever ordered.

The Guys laugh hysterically at Slim's reference. Benny, Rook, Baze and Colson knowing it's true.

"Yo! So, you got a RIDA!? When we gonna meet Mrs. Homie?" Mar asks.

"She's in Cali right now performing but she'll be back before tomorrow night. Come to the show. We'll kick it after." Colson tells them.

Both men nod in agreeance. Wondering about this LunaTic who seems to have tamed such a Wild Boy.

They carry on drinking, laughing and teasing Colson.

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

"HOW YOU FEELING, WAZZMATAZZ?" Ashley asks, stalking around the stage.

She's the Headliner of the concert. Opening with Now or Never, Colors and Eastside. She nails a stripped down version of Closer before bringing Luna out.

"I SAID HOW YOU FEELING!??" She screams to their roars. "I did a song with my bestfriend. It's currently sitting at #1. And I'd like to think that it's because it's the truth." She continues, adjusting her earphone as she walks the stage. "All art is based on some sense of truth, and if our art is number one, it's because WE'RE NOT THE ONLY TWO PISSED OFF!!" She screams to the energetic crowd. "So I've got her with me tonight. The ONE, THE ONLY, THAT BROOKLYN FUCKING BIIITCH!!" Ashley screams introducing Luna to the venue's  explosion.

Luna comes out in a plain white tank and black skinnies.

"Did I hear people are pissed off?" Luna asks excitedly as she comes onto the stage. "FUCK right we are!!!!" She bellows to the audience's screaming agreement. "Let's show 'em how angry!!" She shouts looking at Ashley as the opening chords play.

Both girls begin to bounce with the melody, swinging their arms and legs wildly. Ashley blasts into the opening chorus as her band nails the chords. Fire exploding in the background.

🎶I🎶

🎶Keep a record🎶

🎶Of their wreckage🎶

🎶And their lies🎶

🎶We're starting to recognize🎶

🎶The weapon in our minds🎶

🎶They talk shit🎶

🎶But we won't take it 🎶

🎶This time🎶

🎶As I realize🎶

The band drops out as Luna comes in strong. Unyielding.

🎶I'm out for blood🎶

🎶And it won't be sweet🎶

Ashley's band picks back up as Luna sings. Bouncing and jumping around the stage, using her hands to express her points. Dipping low to touch fan's hands.

🎶Tired of having the rugs🎶

🎶Pulled from beneath our feet🎶

🎶Done trusting lies🎶

🎶Done trusting Men🎶

🎶Picking each other up🎶

🎶And putting ourselves🎶

🎶Back together again🎶

The masses chant with her. Growing louder as Luna calls out Society's standard of women. Luna dead panning certain lyrics.

The Girls cross paths, tossing their mics to each other as they hit separate corners of the stage.

🎶Come on Little Ladies🎶

🎶Give us a smile🎶

🎶No we ain't got nothing🎶

🎶To smile about🎶

Ashley and Luna rip through the lyrics as the lights pop and smoke billows. Belting together how they don't owe You a God Damn Thing.

Ashley kicks back in hard with the chorus. The stage explodes again with fire. The crowd venting along with the two bestfriends.

🎶I🎶

🎶Keep a record🎶

Ashley continues as her and Luna bounce and jump across the stage. Grinning and tossing each other satisfied looks as the crowd rages with them.

It's a volcanic experience as Ashley and Luna dance and sing across the stage with each other. Filled with passion and genuine resentment.

🎶I'm no sweet dream🎶

🎶But I'm a hell of a night🎶

Ashley taunts before Luna slides in.

🎶No I won't smile🎶

🎶But I'll slow you my teeth🎶

🎶And I might let you speak🎶

🎶If you just let us breathe🎶

Luna squats, bouncing up and down. Singing her lyrics. The Band dropping so Luna and the audience can scream together.

🎶We're tired and angry🎶

🎶Digging up The Hill🎶

🎶So scared🎶

🎶Is what you should be🎶

Luna and Ashley come face to face taunting the other to smile. Telling each other there's nothing to smile about. Fire igniting and lights blaring as they let loose about how they don't owe anyone a God Damn Thing.

Ashley singing about keeping a record of all wreckages and lies. Firing exploding as the two artists bop around the stage, screaming about injustice.

Playing and pushing off the other. They really are a force to be reckoned with. On and off stage.

The keytar comes on solely as Luna and Ashley hit MidStage together. The loud room singing with them claiming Luna's heart's desire.

🎶Women like me🎶

🎶Can be real nightmares🎶

🎶Completely aware🎶

🎶But I'd rather be🎶

🎶A real nightmare🎶

🎶Than die unaware🎶

🎶Yeah🎶

🎶Women like me🎶

🎶Can be real nightmares🎶

🎶Completely aware🎶

🎶But I'm glad to be🎶

🎶A real nightmare🎶

The Girls both kick their limbs out while changing the last lines. Luna dipping down in front of her.

🎶So, save us🎶

🎶Your fucking Prayyyyerss!!!🎶

Before slaying the chorus together. Bouncing, grinning, bopping and jumping as the floor ruptures on fire around them with crowd.

Watching them, the two bestfriends are magnetic. Knowing each other's range, limit and place. They perform together as if they were back in Luna's bedroom. Jumping off of props instead of beds. In hindsight it's a beautiful thing to see how far they've both come. Never losing their core.

Grinning at each other, they storm into the chorus with the crowd. Thriving off each other on stage. Tossing mics as they pass, dropping them to signify certain lyrics.

Finishing the chorus together, Ashley goes first as The Girls hit separate corners of the stage.

🎶I'm not sweet dream🎶

🎶But I'm a hell of a night🎶

Luna singing after her. Ending the song.

🎶No, we're no sweet dream🎶

🎶But we're a hell of a night🎶

Coming back together, the bestfriends laugh and thank the crowd before Luna heads off.

Luna FaceTiming Sean as Ashley closes out the show with a hitting performance of Without Me.

"Heeeyyy!" She grins into the screen.

Chuckling, he asks what she wants. Luna explains how she's at WazzMaTazz. Ultimately, asking if she can borrow his jet tonight to get back to Philly for Colson's show tomorrow.

"What's in it for me?" The business man asks.

Luna laughs at Sean, replying that he'll have the pleasure of not feeling her foot up his ass.

"Alright, alright... You little Brooklyn Bitch..." He agrees with a laugh. "When you need it?" He asks.

"Uhhh.. Gimme like 2-3hrs?" Luna asks.

Diddy agrees, telling her he'll text her the details. Thanking him graciously, Sean warns her to stay out of trouble. Shaking his head as she smirks that she'll try, they say GoodBye.

Hanging up Luna sees she has a Snap from Colson.

She opens it, thinking of how much she loves him.

Once Ashley's OffStage, they hang out with the other performers. Luna especially enjoying her conversations with Fletcher and Ellie Goulding. Luna being fans of theirs and vice versa.

Before long, Luna's saying her GoodByes. She's off to the hanger. Flying from CA to PA. Across the country for the second time in less than 24hrs.

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

The Adderall finally wearing off, Luna's feeling the weight of the day. She pops two 30s and sips on an Old Fashioned.

Sleeping for most of the 6hr flight. She arrives on the East Coast as the sun begins to rise. Luna has to look at her phone to figure out what day it is. Surprised that it's Tuesday.

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

Finally at the hotel, Luna takes a quick shower. Managing not to wake Colson until she wants to.

Crawling into bed with him, Colson's on his back. Luna kisses his cheek. Then his jaw. Down his neck to his collarbone.

He starts to stir as she lightly drags the tip of her tongue down his body. He doesn't have any clothes on. Luna kisses the top of his mound, his short pubes tickling her face.

Kissing his inner thigh, Colson reaches for her. Running his hands through her blonde hair. He calls out her name with a groan as she swirls her tongue around his hard cock's head.

Taking him in her mouth, Luna sucks Colson's dick, sliding and her gently twisting her wet hand along his base. Letting her free hand roam his body.

It being early in the morning and her suction firm and steady, Luna only needs to deep throat Colson a few times before he oozes into her mouth.

Both satisfied with her work, Luna swallows his load before washing her hands and climbing back into bed with him.

Laying on his chest, Colson strokes Luna's hair as he asks about CA. She gives him the details of her day. Him talking about how she'll meet Tyree and Lamar tonight.

They come up with the idea of flying Casie out to NY on Friday. He's thinking lunch with her, Patti and Emma. Telling them all together. Luna thinks it's a smart idea. They drift off together, cuddling.

Don knocks on their hotel room door around 11A. He doesn't bang anymore.

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

To be continued.....

[punkscowardschampions]

Ali & Carly

Ali: oi walsh Ali: wanna go to a party where the guestlist is undesirable Ali: not in the cool way Ali: but the drinks will be aplenty Carly: u had me @ party but keep talking Ali: obviously you love when I chat you up Ali: family function but they ain't gonna force smalltalk on you w the booze, like so no fear Carly: love wen ur offering 2 take me away Carly: compliments are a beautiful bonus Carly: ur hot bro gonna b there?? Ali: easy Ali: take you somewhere better than wherever he is after if you play your cards right Ali: and someone isn't too OD'd on beer and BBQ by tonight to organise a decent shindig Carly: yea lads r sooo easy Carly: its boring Carly: showing my cards we should get some 💊 & fly through it Ali: 👌 Ali: sadly my mother refuses to address her issues so no stocked medicine cabinet here to raid Ali: I'll ask about Carly: ha Carly: mine don't Carly: I've got this Carly: show your love later Ali: 🙌 Ali: gimme her number Ali: put in the groundwork now like the overachiever I am Carly: [does give her number out] Carly: k but you love me more Ali: obviously Ali: love of my life Ali: gotta rep my manners with your ma though Carly: said as ur slipping ur 💍 off & giving some other bitch the 👀 Carly: how my da works Ali: hmm Ali: better leave her alone then Ali: don't need to repeat her mistakes Carly: if 1 person did the cabinet wouldn't be full for us Carly: let's keep one 'rent 💔 at a time Ali: smart Ali: that's why you're my bae Carly: its cos I kno how to juggle 💘 Carly: & other body parts ofc Ali: 😂 Ali: and a decent trip, hopefully 🤞 Ali: your mum's got a mixture, yeah or do I need to bring tissues Ali: or 🥊 Ali: what's the #mood Carly: whatever you want it to be baby Carly: shes got docs wrapped around her finger Carly: hers anyway Carly: mine's a woman & she refuses to flirt w her own gender Ali: k am a bit in love with her now Ali: soz Ali: clearly send her in, she'll change her tune and your prescription Carly: other than my da who isnt Carly: taught me everything I kno Carly: leave her a message she'll hit you back if you pretend to be hot lad Ali: 💔 that Carly: same I could have two mas Carly: more clothes & drugs to steal Ali: idk, my missus might reckon your da's a style icon Carly: ha Carly: she coming? Ali: nah Ali: you wanna see actual flirting w a middle-aged woman, like, she's your woman Ali: I can't Carly: on her bday she'll propose a 3way w ur ma Carly: been there Ali: 🤢 Ali: that's vile Ali: her diehard need to be more chivalrous than any man should work in my favour for once, like Carly: k Carly: tell me I'm wrong wen she's 1 year older & you ain't had to nah that Ali: bold of you to assume we won't be happily married by then, babe Ali: it ain't til feb Ali: hint hint buy me something Carly: ur married to me Carly: so you gotta say no Carly: & i kno ur a typical aquarius Carly: but I said hers you weren't listening such a hubby mood Ali: wish I could be the man you want and say I don't remember when it is Ali: but I think I do so Ali: 💔 fucking estrogen and empathy strikes again Ali: ultimate cockblock Carly: im not wrapping myself in a ribbon for her so idc when it is Ali: gutted for her Ali: when's yours then Carly: I'm a gemini girl Carly: guess Ali: ah fuck Ali: gonna have to kick it belated Ali: just means I have to go harder so enjoy Ali: hmm Ali: gonna go for 21st Carly: 😢 Carly: nope Ali: damn Ali: just wishful thinking I'd only just missed it, tbh Ali: it's June though, not May Ali: I'm positive Carly: yea Ali: I'll ask our mans Ali: shake him down for all that knowledge I'm sure he's hiding Carly: try it Carly: be funny Carly: how wrong he is Ali: counting on it Ali: how else am I stealing his girl Carly: im not his Carly: already yours Ali: 'course Ali: you seen him much since partygate Carly: just waved him out before you hit me w your invite Carly: y i said yea so fast Ali: I get it Ali: making him leave was always harder than it had any right being Ali: least he didn't invite himself Carly: he makes himself comfortable if I am or not Carly: revolving door on this caravan too so Ali: having 'nam flashbacks Ali: yikes Ali: let's not waste any more time talking 'bout exes tonight Ali: or currents Carly: did your ma let him in on her way out too or does she only like the girls ur w? Carly: aw you don't wanna talk Carly: let me apply gloss hold on Ali: safe to assume he's not coming 'cos of multiple people Ali: not just Lene Ali: 🍓 if you got it, babe Carly: & she's not coming cos of multiple ppl not just ur ma Carly: you not a 🍒 girl hm Carly: interesting Ali: she's not coming 'cos I ain't asked her Ali: awkward if my mother has taken the initiative but help the party go with a swing, I guess Ali: nah, you're a 🍓 girl Ali: too sweet for 🍒 Carly: cos you asked me i kno 😍 so cute Carly: aw you want me to taste how i naturally do Carly: even cuter Ali: be more fun Ali: invite her to my next protest or something more fitting Ali: nothing personal Carly: hey i can be loud Carly: do it all the time Ali: aw you want all her invites now? 😏 Carly: yea Carly: you want me you got me 💍 Ali: alright Ali: you're on Carly: k Ali: get ready for so many adventures Carly: 😊 Carly: wot am i wearing to this 1? Carly: gotta dress for hot bros & disapproving mas Ali: 🙄 Ali: if that's the mood you wanna go for Ali: though idk why you'd choose that over turning my head but go off, honey Carly: i can do that in what Im wearing rn Carly: gimme a challenge Ali: love the confidence Ali: my ma ain't but you will need it with my brother Carly: they all play hard to get until i get there Carly: being easy keeps it easy for them Carly: not my first bbq Ali: nah babe Ali: remember, we're ditching before it gets to that part of the evening Ali: soz to 💔 but I'll be nicer about it than he would so also welcome Carly: throw the keys in the salad bowl as soon as i get there idc Carly: no foreplay needed Ali: gotta get you outta the caravan park more, babe7 Carly: yea Carly: im walking now before he can follow me Ali: meet you halfway? Ali: will bring a crowbar if he's being that clingy Carly: ha Carly: im in the stash don't be sad Carly: ill leave you lots Ali: 👍 leave me chance to catch up too and no worries Carly: ofc Carly: 💙 Ali: you're a doll Carly: yea thats y everyone wants to fuck me Ali: nah Ali: plenty of other reasons for that though Carly: its k you dont need to list off ur compliments 1 per 💊 Carly: i feel the love Ali: you ain't saving me that many, I know 💚 Carly: aw Carly: ur so sweet Ali: nicer to my wives than my girlfriends, obvs Ali: pecking order Carly: 😊 Carly: she's still lucky to have you cos ur an angel to me Ali: you Ali: trust, no angel Ali: and that ain't some juvenile attempt at a brag there Carly: it's a flirt 😈😉 ha Carly: you wanna misbehave w me in front of your whole fam im there Ali: assuming my brother ain't up for it, obvs Carly: cant i have both Carly: what kind of bi r u Ali: one that don't like her brother's handmedowns Ali: lived that life long enough Ali: he ain't a style icon either Carly: ur first Carly: hes maybe Ali: was hoping if we skipped ronan and lene off the guestlist we could avoid the punch-up, tbh babe Carly: aw you dont wanna fight for me Carly: 💔😢 Ali: I mean my brother's girlfriend will have you Ali: only tryna protect, not kill your vibe Carly: scarier than your gf? Ali: deffo Ali: she wishes, the real threesome request that'll spell the end of it all 🙄 Carly: hes forgotten then Carly: be more fun just me & you Ali: obviously Ali: been tryna tell you but easier to prove it Carly: k Carly: ready when you are Ali: soz, forgot shoes Ali: gimme 5 Carly: ha Carly: im not wearing any & im fine Carly: you just wanna do a last mirror check for me 💙 so cute Ali: 😂 Ali: such a pisstake, you walsh Carly: part time flower child you Carly: but its k i still love you Ali: just defending why I'm being so slow Ali: obvs my 😍 weighing me down but lemme have some pride, woman Carly: ha Carly: you're my cute 🐌 Ali: now you're gonna be adorable, fucking hell Ali: you're dangerous Carly: if you cant handle me now wait til I come up Carly: 💊s are the real danger baby Ali: I'll be caught up by then Ali: might have to double-down but I can handle that, no worries Carly: they r being so slow 😢😢😢 Ali: ride it out, baby Carly: you sounded like him then Carly: except hes never called me baby ever Ali: oh dear Ali: I've gone full dickhead Ali: 😬 Ali: I'll take it down a notch Carly: no youre being sweet Carly: theres just lots of ways to trigger a fuck flashback when youre me Carly: dont change Ali: dunno if I could but glad you still wanna keep me around Carly: ofc Carly: i love you Ali: you're so pure Carly: not for years soz boo Carly: & this stash aint either Carly: such a let down 💔😢 Ali: shh Ali: we can make it work Ali: there's enough here to get crossfaded Carly: just dont hate me k Ali: why and how could I ever Ali: silly wabbit Carly: easily Carly: my phones full of Ali: you gonna fuck my girlfriend? Ali: or me and leg it Ali: neither's likely so we're all good, baby girl Carly: she scares me still even if she would have an amazing collection of giant strap ons Ali: 😂 Ali: well I can neither confirm nor deny Carly: no need its every lesbian of her kind Carly: labelled herself Ali: just don't bring up penis envy Ali: she'll lose it Ali: #freudstarteditbabe Carly: can i ask her what she'd do first if she woke up w one? Carly: fave ice breaker Ali: it is gold Ali: but save it 'cos it's just me and you remember Carly: do you wanna know my answer Ali: of course Carly: guess Carly: you owe me a right answer for my wrong bday Ali: Hmm okay Ali: would you Ali: bang as many people as humanly possible Carly: i do that anyway Ali: well you get banged, if we wanna be misogynistic about it Ali: I know what I'd do Carly: more fun with more holes tho so I'm not mad Carly: first thing I'd do is measure to see if I need to brag or exaggerate Ali: pragmatic of you Ali: hadn't even considered that Carly: wanna know if mine's bigger than the lads I've been w ofc Carly: size matters idc what small dicked lads are trying to say Ali: yeah but they're always thinking length when really Ali: girth is where it's at Carly: yea Carly: shouldve taught that in school Ali: how to measure circumference Ali: they defs did Carly: yea?? Carly: idk Ali: I'll show you Ali: on a beer can Ali: unrealistic expectation but you get the idea Carly: all my expectations r unrealistic Carly: make me cum is a stretch for most lads on site Ali: babe Ali: gonna make me 😥 Carly: youre the pure 1 aint you Carly: aw Ali: hardly Ali: saying at least I get that, like Ali: minimum Carly: your gf has some uses that arent being your ma's BFF Ali: precisely Ali: I would've been a bit kinder with it but in a nutshell Ali: what about ronan at least Carly: have you forgotten him now youve upgraded Carly: shouldnt need my review Ali: shh, he'll cry Carly: he was when i wouldnt let him stay for dinner idc Ali: poor boy 😏 Carly: one of his other girls can cook for him Carly: my ma aint there & i aint doing it Ali: he needs to just give in and marry one of his own Ali: it's what he wants, no matter what he reckons Carly: he told me he is Carly: but hes said worse for a fuck so idk Ali: rude Ali: where's my invite to mourn my loss, boy Carly: ill tell him to text you Carly: wont have lost your number Ali: got the drunk texts to prove it Ali: bless Carly: ha Carly: only answer mine tho Carly: 💍 perks Ali: only if I ain't also there with ya Carly: yea Carly: youre gonna b w me forever so Ali: I'll just tell you in person then Ali: if you tell me Ali: deal? Carly: k Carly: i feel happy Carly: 😊😊😊😊😊 Ali: you're on your way Ali: where are you, btw Carly: the longest road ever Ali: hm, tell me about it Ali: I'll run Ali: in dramatic, sexy slo-mo Carly: me too Carly: only way i run Carly: see you when we collide Ali: wifey goals Ali: won't even try and make it our lips that collide Ali: scout's honour Carly: anticipations more fun Carly: plenty of other places I can touch you first Ali: we'll pretend you meant my 💘 Carly: i did that first night @ first 👀 Ali: no lie, we'll have to think of somewhere else innocent-sounding then Ali: do some experimenting, straight girl Carly: i have Carly: i told you ready when you are Ali: I told you, dangerous Carly: only if you get caught Carly: i won't tell if you don't Carly: so good at keeping secrets Ali: I'll sort it Ali: I made vows Ali: she'll understand Carly: were just taking them seriously Carly: nobody can be mad about that Ali: deadly, like Ali: also forgot a bra, naturally and this run is killing me Carly: somewhere innocent I can touch you then Carly: god works in obvious ways Carly: like you Ali: please Ali: if I was doing it for your benefit sure I'd put one on Ali: show 'em off Carly: you kno you dont need to Carly: not your first bbq either Ali: 😏 Ali: maybe Carly: no maybe u kno Carly: & you can feel my 😍 Carly: travelling faster than my slo mo run Ali: love being your wcw, babe 😉 Carly: idk what that is Carly: but if the first letters arent wild child I'm sad Ali: that's far less straight girl so we'll go with it Ali: hope for you yet, like Carly: youre not gonna tell me what it means Ali: woman crush wednesday Ali: used exclusively by girls like Leesha and that Carly: omg i think my ma said that @ the telly the other night Carly: it wasnt wednesday Ali: feeling like hyping up Chezza whatever the night Ali: I 👀 you Carly: but youre wrong Carly: i dont have a crush on you i love you Ali: so if I need a kidney you're down Ali: but no gay shit Ali: 👌 Carly: yea cos whats mine is yours Carly: all of me Carly: so you can have anything you want Ali: good to know Ali: make a killing on the black market Carly: just tell me if youre draining me in the tub so i can have a good last nite before Carly: & stop making me beg for gay shit that's not a mood Carly: i dont do the begging its the other way round Carly: ask anyone Ali: of course Ali: I ain't an animal Ali: you don't have to beg Carly: what do you want me to say then Ali: what you want Ali: obviously Carly: find me Carly: you can do that yea Ali: easy Ali: [does 'cos how long can one road be] Carly: [most excited hug that turns into the longest hug & moment because well we know] Ali: [turns it into linking arms and walking 'fore shit gets too real here] Carly: [is just happy & loling & chatting shit which is endless compliments basically like her eyes being tiny skies & sunshine hair etc you get the idea because high af] Ali: [is listening and not dismissing it 'cos not that bitch but also knows she's high so not being like ooh lol, 'you're so pure'] Carly: [dramatically stops cos remembers suddenly that she needs to give Ali her share so does, sad & mad at herself like she's so upset she nearly forgot bless] Ali: [cups her chin like hey and tells her it's okay whilst looking in her eyes as she takes her share] Carly: [back to being smiley just like that because reassurance bitch & takes her hand & leads her along cos handholding ftw] Ali: [is happy she's happy again] Carly: [her phone is going off cos Ronan but she's ignoring cos only got eyes for Alison rn] Ali: ['you put love eggs in or?'] Carly: [talks in depth about how she's drawing the line at borrowing that kinda shit from her ma cos oversharer even when she ain't high & also throws her phone to Ali playfully like no look so we can imagine how lovely those messages are even just from the first line preview thing] Ali: [takes Carly's thumb so she can open it and reply 'cos that bitch] Carly: [is just loling even though this is such a bad idea] Ali: [schools him in a way that probably sounds familiar lbr] Carly: [then a selfie sesh cos those bitches they love themselves] Ali: [takes her sunnies off her head and puts 'em on Carly 'cos her eyes are massive/pinholed depending which way we're rocking this lol] Ali: [does a 'shh' like no one's gonna know] Carly: [you know she's keeping them sunnies forever now soz] Ali: [just swinging their arms having a gay old time] Carly: [just singing something as they going cos no stage fright when high af & her voice is nice so its a moment] Ali: [😍] Carly: [more compliments when she notices Ali is looking at her cos she's pretty af lbr] Ali: ['how many other hidden talents you got, like?'] Carly: [thinks about it way harder than the question warrants like its a hard question cos lowkey is when you don't reckon you got any skills. Says 11 cos bday clue & lucky number with a mysterious expression like but then laughs cos if she has to ever back that up awks] Ali: [lols back but squeezes her hand like don't doubt it] Carly: [looks down at her feet because actually is shoeless here 'how far?'] Ali: [gestures like 'piggyback?' but ain't that far in my mind] Carly: [accepts because always, good thing Ali is strong & Carly is skinny cos they literally the same height] Ali: [galloping about and into your function like idiots 'cos she's coming up now too] Carly: [miracle that Carly don't fall cos not holding on properly cos wants to stretch her arms out so its like a bike with no handlebars situation lol] Ali: [imagine everyone's faces lmao] Carly: [Tess scowl be like seen from space] Ali: [gets situated on the grass and is just helping herself to drinks Carly: [is just having a little dance by herself cos feeling great not soz everyone especially not soz Ro cos you wish you could babe] Ali: [at least little rock can join in] Carly: [aw the two of them dancing together like cute nerds & she's spinning him round & everything] Ali: [just ignoring all her fam's questions and being chatty af like nothing's weird 'cos high, then joining in 'cos duh more fun[ Carly: [all you can hear is Carly's laugh which is the best so deal with it fam thank you, let my sweet baby angel be happy] Ali: [when you being blatant af] Carly: [when you don't need to be touching a girl who has a girlfriend this much when you dancing in a non sexy way but you is] Ali: [defs need a sprinkler they can all be running through] Carly: [wet t-shirts ftw I see you] Ali: [is motioning like come to my room but not like that lads, just get some weed like you need it] Carly: [takes some drinks with her but the only mental image I have is when Lily in Skins with armfuls when she says keep your vagina on & I'm loling] Ali: [hey ro hey] Carly: [okay but Carly trying to talk to her & being so nice cos she's so pure & Ro being so rude] Ali: [even in her state given her all the disappointed looks like ??] Carly: [this sweet child laughing it off cos how she do but how dare you Ro, I'm mad] Ali: [going to the kitchen for food, accidental ultimate ro shade] Carly: [just following Ali cos she's never been here & don't know where she's going but quieter cos you can tell she's thinking what did I do wrong cos how her brain works] Ali: [being reassuring af] Carly: [sitting on the kitchen counter swinging her legs looking so cute with her dirty feet & drinks from the tap cos she do what she want] Ali: ['you look beautiful'] Carly: [smiles & laughs like its chill but is seriously 😳 cos who says nice things to her like this ever] Ali: [gets them and rocky ice lollies bye everyone else] Carly: [when you eating it seductively without being aware or trying to be that cos its your life] Ali: [is giggling 'cos high] Carly: [more compliments because how cute] Ali: [lays her head in her lap to 'cloudgaze' aka sneak peeks] Carly: [playing with her hair & freckles sporadically because she's soft & intimate like that, be more blatant girl, love it] Ali: [doing daisychain around her wrist 'cos bringing it back] Carly: [finally remembers there are drinks so is on that but v distracted looking at & touching Ali, oh girl same we all would] Ali: [tryna be chill but obvs into it regardless of how 'straight she is] Carly: [lies in the grass & does snow angel moves like she can flatten the grass & make one, god bless you babe, brings Ali with her so they just snuggling cos we can be this blatant] Ali: [just stroking her hair nbd] Carly: [loves it & is making it known by talking about how good it feels & throwing out compliments like its her job sorry for how gay this is everyone but she thinks Ali is the best so] Ali: [backatcha telling her how pure and sweet she is and they're just blabbing at each other] Carly: [soz k stew but this is cute] Ali: [when you wanna kiss her so bad 'cos you're high and happy and this is a mood] Carly: [I'll either save or condemn us cos she's gonna go take some more pills so they don't wear off so they could be alone if Ali goes with & she'd be dragging her along so v dangerous] Ali: [looking at themselves in the mirror and making funny faces] Carly: [& Carly just peeing cos no shame, same tbh] Ali: [but doing like war/festival style paint on each other's face with like, whatever lipstick has been left in that bathroom] Carly: [but think how close Ali would have to be to her face to do that like how has she not kissed her, applause needed honestly] Ali: [draws a lil heart on Carly's nose] Carly: [can't stop looking at herself cos loves it] Ali: [takes loads of pictures, improtu bathroom photoshoot sesh] Carly: [likewise taking loads of pics of Ali but like weird close ups cos she gaaaaaaaay & focused on the details] Ali: [posing 'cos we know she's about it lmao] Carly: [more touching of freckles like she's gonna draw something connect the dots style but just using her fingers cos they are perfect as they are & she'd say so] Ali: [not much would phase her but she would be blushing rn] Carly: [just gushing about how adorable she is endlessly like it'd be too much from anyone else] Ali: [keeps saying ILY 'cos being off your face ftw] Carly: [saying it back of course & all the terms of endearment like baby, angel etc cos that's just how she is anyway] Ali: [someone, probably Tess, banging on the door like they're desperate, we see you ma] Carly: [jumps out of her skin, again same] Ali: [hugs her protectively] Carly: [smelling her hair like a peak gay during the hug because lbr it'd smell nice, no shade or shame here, more compliments for that obvs] Ali: [going back downstairs before there's a brawl but when you ain't even phased 'cos something happening here deal fam Carly: [when you lowkey dancing your way back out cos you happy af & you find the dog on the way so you're carrying him with you & kissing & loving him & its adorable sorry bye] Ali: [and spuds such a funny looking boy lmao] Carly: [lying on the grass again spooning the dog & singing to him probably a song from when she was little & her mum cared like he a baby] Ali: [just watching and melting 'cos actually so cute, don't cry bitch lmao] Carly: [sees her & crawls over like hey, curling up with her again because the lap is a mood forever & we need to claim it from your future child for the gays] Ali: [doing teeny tiny plaits in her hair and humming the song she was just singing to the dog] Carly: [just chatting shit the whole time soz everyone else but they loving life let them be] Ali: [just getting to know each other hardcore 'cos neither of them has much time for small talk or bullshit anyway so on drugs it'd be like 1000 percent more intense, also shamelessly ignore a call and multiple texts from your actual girlfriend] Carly: [but then after all that because I'm evil & she's 'straight' let's say she makes eye contact with Fraze somehow so off she goes to flirt with him as if that's even a possibility when you know it'd just be annoying like her taking his 🚬 to try & be so cool & seductive, babe no. He's just like Ali control your girls] Ali: [is annoyed but not gonna do anything unless it got more dramatic like you deal, casually going through her phone to find a party or something] Carly: [Fraze just being such a dickhead soz Carly also knowing that's Bea's lipstick because of course he does so loling about her & Ali's impending doom] Carly: [also Ro coming out cos someone made her to 'eat' so just being super judgey such joy] Ali: [fully like fuck this like don't kill my vibe fam so walking like she just gonna go in the house but really she peacing] Ali: if ur done come back out Carly: where d u go? Ali: found us a party Carly: k Carly: [catches up to her like oh hey] Ali: [tells her it ain't far to go and starts walking] Carly: [looks down at her feet like she only just remembered she's not wearing shoes but doesn't miss a beat in keeping in step with her because being gay is more important] Carly: dont b mad @ me Ali: [looks down too and is like, we can go get shoes first if you want lol] Ali: I ain't Carly: the colours around you have changed Carly: i kno u r Ali: nah it's like Ali: hmm Ali: I'm not sure what it's like Carly: like me again Carly: [is saying sorry because always quick to that one] Ali: ['I do, you don't need to say that'] Carly: [trying to give Ali her drink as a peace offering like hmm I've done something wrong must make amends somehow] Carly: [& then more pills when she remembers she has them still] Ali: [shrugs like why not and accepts, cue Leesha and probably her 'best' friend tottering out of her house looking the most overdressed] Carly: [Carly loling because she has the whole day but these bitches taking it as a slight against their everything] Ali: [Leesha started shouting the odds 'cos mother's daughter and obvs already white girl wasted, Ali like let's just go 'cos over it] Carly: [Carly offering her pills cos change your mood babe & being looked at like she's offering poison, you've been there before Leesha I get it] Ali: [tryna lowkey drag her away before this becomes the Thing tm they want it to be for the #drama] Carly: [Carly just chatting about Ali's heroics & how sweet she is cos knight in shining armor for her forever lbr just like 😍] Ali: [loling] Carly: [Carly just out the blue like 'you should kiss her, then she'd be happier' like no babe Leesha ain't you but I love the softness of your world view] Ali: ['fully converted, are you?'] Carly: [lols but is also like 'you haven't kissed me yet' with a cute little pouty face as she walks on slightly ahead looking at the sky] Ali: ['Night still young, baby'] Carly: [clearly is buzzing about this & not hiding that 'I love you more than her' how unspecific she could mean Leesha or K stew or both, god bless] Ali: [is all 'I know' but not 'cos she's a cocky bitch lmao 'cos you're pure'] Carly: [puts her arms up like a child who wants to be picked up cos she wants Ali to carry her into the party] Ali: [does 'cos duh even if she's joking about how high maintenance she is] Carly: [snuggling into her the whole time cos she's soft] Ali: [let's hope it's not too far, probably some 20-something hippie waster's chill thing] Carly: [when you humming but using Ali's heartbeat as your basis for a tune cos gaaaaaaaaaaay] Ali: [when you're harmonizing] Carly: [#goals for real] Carly: [but then she gotta stop so she can compliment Ali again cos we know her voice is fire but Carly didn't necessarily know this] Ali: ['we should jam for real some time'] Carly: [cue her rambling stage fright reveal because like we said no time for bullshit so its just being put out there & she's like 'you'll have to sing to me'] Ali: [is like okay but silently thinking of all the ways she could help her confidence 'cos that bitch but not gonna be pushy and patronizing about it 'cos not THAT bitch] Carly: [just staring at her adorably all like 'what are you thinking about?'] Ali: ['you'] Carly: [such a big smile but also blushing 'good things?'] Ali: [just gives her a look that's like what do you think and obviously, yes] Carly: [a big hug moment and kisses her on her forehead cos where the thoughts come from] Ali: [the mess of lipstick their faces are] Carly: [they must look crazy, living for it] Ali: [good thing no one at this party will care, turn up and chatting to people and the usual] Carly: [there should be someone there for Carly to hook up with to hurt Ali's heart & reaffirm the 'straightness'] Ali: [when you can't 'cos you got a gf, gutted] Carly: [who is probably still trying to contact you cos highkey] Ali: [text her back girl, come on] Carly: [do it while your real gf is getting you a drink lol] Ali: [let's text]

[booksbroadwaybbc]

I'm 27F and have zero knowledge of pretty much everything..considering living in my car to gain personal experience about myself. via /r/selfimprovement

I'm 27F and have zero knowledge of pretty much everything..considering living in my car to gain personal experience about myself.

This may be long and I'm sorry..but..hi!

I still live with my parents, never moved out actually. Pretty sad, I know...anyway my mom is on Facebook and I am not. She decided to show me pictures of kids I grew up with who are getting married, having kids, seeing the world, buying their first house, getting their BA or MA degrees..etc..and I am just existing but not actually living...in my parents house.

It isn't unbearable to live here but it's becoming clear to me that if I want to do things in my life like get a degree (which I do), find a man and get married, get tattoos or a fucking nose piercing..I need to leave. The reasons I cannot do these things is because I'm not allowed to. I literally am not allowed to drink, get a tattoo/piercing, hang out with certain people, stay out passed 11PM, and I have to come home right after work everyday. I even had to sign a contract stating I would abide by these rules and I'M 27 YEARS OLD. And the consequences for not following these rules is I get kicked out immediately, forfeit my rent, and have 30 days to get my belongings. If I come on to their property without calling first they will call the cops. I have never been arrested. I only have one fucking moving violation ticket which was from last May.

Apparently my parents think that if I like to drink (which many people my age do) that I will be an alcoholic. Ever since I was 21 they wouldn't let me drink, they some how found it odd that I wanted a beer everyday even though they did the same shit. Have I been irresponsible with my drinking sometimes? Yes I have. But so has everyone else. I get they want to protect me but I'm 27, I'm an adult...so you know what?...why don't I just move the fuck out and BE an adult? Because the real world scares me. I know nothing about everything I should know..

I'm 27, I work a part-time union job with amazing benefits. I have no savings anymore because of my car accident last May (same day as my ticket). I make $600-$700/month and pay $200/month for rent. The reason I don't have any savings now is because I just finished my last medical bill payment..which was over $600 from my car accident.

My parents have helped me financially and I am thankful for that, but I don't want to be dependent on them. I need to leave, it's time for me to go. I have no motivation here, no desire to do anything. Every time I try to get something going, my mother likes to take a shit on it, maybe it's unintentionally rude but it is still rude. I wanted to go back to college this summer (enrolled in community college at the moment), but she doesn't think that I should because of my past failed attempts. I feel like I'm trapped in a room with no door, just a window looking at the world pass me by.

So my idea is to live in my 2009 Hyundai Accent GS (Hatchback), it is a small car..but it is mine. I own it outright (my name on the title) I pay the insurance and bought it with cash. I don't want nor can I purchase a van or bigger vehicle. I have applied to get a 2nd part time job, and the first thing I would do is save my money to pay my parents back for helping me out. I owe them around $4,000 from my car accident and other things. I have no other debt. I know to some this may not seem smart but if I don't leave this comfortable yet soul-destroying cocoon, I will crumble when I am finally forced to be on my own. Like I will legitimately be one of those people who would go nuts. So if I go out into it myself, I have no excuses..I have time to learn what I need/want to.

I'm sorry if this is long and also if this seems like a pity party. I didn't mean it to be that way and I am willing to accept the things I do have control over. I have many regrets in my lifetime from living at home and doing nothing. Why dwell on those when I can do something now?

Any valuable advice/thoughts/input is greatly appreciated.

TL;DR ~ My poor choices and my helicopter parents are keeping me from having real world experiences. I'm broke and considering living in my hatchback to pay off some debt and advance in the world.

Edit: Also should mention that even though I'm 27, I think my maturity level is that of a 16 year old. Pretty sure this is why my parents often get irritated with things that I say.

Submitted May 08, 2018 at 03:20AM by GamerTag4Reddit via reddit https://ift.tt/2jJyO9f