#just wanted to sketch smth sweet before i went to bed

[liturgusakrattorum]

i should draw em in their canon designs more huh

[annzybwrites]

Rainy Days

Anonymous: u asked for fluffy snufmin prompts and I’m here to deliver!:) it’s cold and rainy and gross out so moomin convinces snufkin to stay in at moominhouse. snufkin tries to teach moomin how to play an instrument and moomin tries to teach him how to bake smth. they’re both bad at the thing which the other finds adorable <3

Annzy: I am so sorry this took so long, but I hope there’s enough fluff <3 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Snufkin, can you put aside your pride for one second?” Moomin wasn’t sure if he was scolding or pleading with his boyfriend at this point. All he knew was that it had been raining for the past two days, and Snufkin had to keep moving his tent to higher and higher ground to avoid the mud, and really things would be so much simpler if he would just come stay in Moominhouse until the rain cleared up. 

“This is the last rainy day,” Snufkin argued, rolling up his tent while Moomin held an umbrella over them. “I can feel it.” 

“You said that yesterday.” 

“That was yesterday.” 

“Just come inside!” Moomin pulled at the skin underneath one of his eyes. “If today really is the last rainy day, then staying in a nice, warm, dry house until it clears up would be best. And then we can go worm hunting as soon as the rain stops!” 

Snufkin hummed, fixing his tent to the top of his pack before looking at Moomin with a small smile on his lips. “Trying to butter me up?” 

“More like trying to resist throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you to Moominhouse.” 

Snufkin laughed at that, swinging his backpack on with a small sigh. “All right, you’ve won me over.” 

“Finally!” Moomin groaned, snatching Snufkin’s hand and starting to lead him off before he could change his mind. 

~~~

Moominmamma wasn’t usually too strict when it came to messes and dirt. But at the sight of Snufkin with dried mud in his hair, on his legs, and stuck on the ends of his tunic, she insisted he take a warm bath while she washed out his clothes for him. Thankfully they had a worn-in outfit that Snufkin considered acceptable to wear for brief periods; a plain, mustard yellow, cotton frock. 

“It’s so weird to see you in anything other than green,” Moomin commented when Snufkin entered his room. He’d spent the time idly doodling some flowers, but he was happy to put it away for awhile. 

“Is it?” Snufkin brushed out the fabric, chuckling a little. “How would I look in red?” 

“I can’t even imagine,” Moomin shook his head, happily padding over with a smile. “Well, what should we do for our rainy day adventure? Play a board game? Act out scenes from a book? Oh! Let’s bake something!” 

“Bake?” Snufkin was already looking forward to whatever sweets Moomin was in the mood for. He’d become quite a fantastic baker over the years.  

“Yes!” Moomin was already walking out of his room and down the stairs. “I can show you how to make a rhubarb pie!”  

“Oh…” Snufkin hesitantly followed him down the stairs. “Aren’t pies rather hard to make?” 

“Maybe at first,” Moomin admitted. “But I’d say they just take more time. Especially if you want the lattice covering on top, but it just looks cuter, don’t you think?” 

“If you say so.” Snufkin tried not to feel too nervous. If it was a rhubarb pie, he could just help prepare the filling and let Moomin worry about the rest. He absolutely hated working with pastry dough; it always turned out lumpy and stuck to his hands or his utensils whenever he tried. 

At first his plan worked out well; Snufkin washed and cut the rhubarb while Moomin started mixing the flour, sugar, and butter together into a nice, large ball of dough. But once Snufkin was done preparing the rhubarb, Moomin called him over to the table, insisting, “Rolling out the dough into a big circle is the best part.”

“Oh, is it?” Snufkin kept a smile on his face despite his heart leaping into his throat. 

“Oh yes!” Moomin separated the ball into two, smaller spheres, handing one to Snufkin. “I’ll let you use the rolling pin; a little easier than using your hands.” 

“I’m sure.”  Snufkin nodded, acting like he knew what he was doing as Moomin handed him the rolling pin. He stared down at his ball of dough, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Moomin was already making good progress with flattening out his own ball with his hands. With a deep breath, he pressed the pin into the center and started rolling, hoping it would work out and that he wouldn’t look like a goon. 

He should have known that was too much to hope for. 

With each new roll, more and more of the dough started sticking to the pin, and Snufkin was quickly becoming frustrated with just how often he had to peel it off and lay it back down on the table. “A little easier than using your hands” indeed. He was so absorbed with his struggle that he didn’t realize Moomin had already finished flattening and rounding his ball of dough. 

“Snufkin.” Moomin was clearly amused, and when Snufkin turned to look he saw a playful gleam in those baby blue eyes. “Need some help?” 

“Oh, no.” Snufkin shook his head, trying to roll out the dough fast, hoping it wouldn’t stick. No such luck; if anything that made it worse. “I have it all under control, thank you.” 

“Ah, I see.” Moomin nodded, obviously stifling a large grin. “Then I’ll start mixing the filling together while you finish… that.”

“Yes, I’d appreciate it.” 

Moomin nodded, chuckling a little as he began gathering spices from the cabinets. Snufkin watched him for a moment to make sure he wasn’t looking before returning to the menacing pastry. The dough looked more like a lumpy, cracked plate rather than a nice circle, so he began rolling it into a ball again before starting over. He put the rolling pin aside before digging in with his hands, since that had seemed to work for Moomintroll just fine. Except, just like before, all that ended up happening was the dough sticking to his hands rather than the rolling pin. 

“How’s it going?” 

Snufkin felt the fur on his back stand on end as he turned to look at his grinning boyfriend. “It’s going.” 

Moomin chuckled, tactfully sliding the flour to him. “A little of this should take care of that stickiness you’re struggling with.” 

“Right, of course.” Snufkin tried to smile nonchalantly, hoping his cheeks weren’t red as he reached for the flour. A little sprinkle later, and the dough was finally behaving properly. Now all he had to deal with was the fact that he was apparently incapable of flattening it evenly; some parts were thin as paper while others were little, thick pockets. 

Snufkin bristled when he heard Moomin start to laugh, and he quickly turned to glare softly. “You’re enjoying my suffering?” 

“Sorry!” Moomin covered his mouth, shoulders shaking with his laughter. “It’s just such a rare sight to see you like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like…” Moomin paused, trying to think of the best way to word this. “Like someone who doesn’t know everything?” 

“I never claimed to know everything—” 

“But you do act like it sometimes,” Moomin pointed out, grinning wider. “With all your grand stories and wise words. I’m just saying, it’s nice to see you failing at something.” 

Snufkin pouted at him, certain his cheeks were at least pink as Moomin continued laughing at him. “What use is dough-making for a tramp?” 

Moomin shrugged, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against Snufkin’s cheek as he pushed his hands away from the dough. “Just let me take care of this, all right? You can be adorable somewhere else.” 

Snufkin tensed up from the casual way Moomin said that, a warm shiver running down his spine. “What, you—my struggling is adorable?” 

“Very much so, actually.” Moomin was thoroughly enjoying himself as he rounded the dough for the third time that afternoon, picking up the rolling pin and humming away as he easily levelled it into a perfect, little circle. “And there we go.” Moomin grinned at him again, pointing towards the counter. “Can you get me a knife so I can cut out the lattice?” 

Snufkin huffed quietly, stepping over to fetch him his knife while embarrassment sat heavy in his stomach. He really didn’t like looking like a fool, but at least it was only Moomintroll who saw. And to be called adorable on top of it all! How completely undignified. 

“Thank you, Snufkin.” Moomin beamed as he took the knife from him. “And just so you know, you look even more adorable with that pout on your lips.” 

Snufkin was sure his entire face was red as he covered his mouth with his hand. “I am not pouting.” 

“Oh, you’re not?” 

“Absolutely. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in the living room.” Mamma could use some company as she knitted, anyway. 

~~~

The pie turned out beautifully, and the whole family came to the kitchen to enjoy it. Pappa complimented them on their perfect, flaky crust, and Moomin couldn’t help but laugh a little until Snufkin gave him a look. He didn’t say anything, of course; he didn’t want to embarrass Snufkin. No, he’d rather keep the image of Snufkin glaring down at the dough with flushed cheeks and a frustrated pout all to himself. Maybe he’d try and sketch it out later in his journal, just for posterity’s sake. 

It was still raining after they finished their rhubarb snack, so Moomin and Snufkin went up to his room to stare out across the cloudy skies and damp valley. 

“What should we do now?” Moomin asked. 

“Hm.” Snufkin tapped his fingers twice against the windowsill before pushing himself towards his pack. “Let’s make some music. Rainy weather is perfect to compose to.” 

Moomin brightened, happily going to sit on his bed. “I do love your songs.” And it would be so exciting to hear him compose something in real time! 

“I’m glad.” Snufkin pulled out his trusty harmonica before going to sit next to him on the bed. He blew through it once, as if to check to make sure it still worked, and then he began to play. Short, brisk notes, as if to imitate the pitter-patter of the rain, but sudden and loud enough to make Moomin’s ears twitch occasionally. He stopped after a few moments, turning to Moomintroll with a small grin of his own. “Actually, would you like to learn how to play?” 

“Me?” Moomin’s eyes widened as he pointed to himself. “Oh, I don’t know how good I’d be.” 

“Give it a try.” Snufkin handed the instrument over. “Can’t be any worse than me with pie dough.” 

Moomin couldn’t help but laugh at that, covering his mouth again as he did. He was glad that Snufkin wasn’t too sore about earlier; he’d wondered if he’d gone a bit far with his teasing. “You have a point.” He took the harmonica, simply staring at it for a few moments before blowing into it experimentally. It was surprising how loud it was, but he supposed it was bound to sound louder to the one playing it. 

Snufkin began trying to explain two different ways to isolate one note on the harmonica. One involved puckering your lips into a small oval shape, while the other involved using your tongue to block some of the other holes. 

“You put your tongue on this thing?” Moomin interrupted. 

“Sometimes.” Snufkin shrugged. “To get a certain sound. It makes it easier to add in or take away chords, too.” 

“And you’re sure you want me to play this?” 

“You’re clean enough, aren’t you?” 

“That’s not really the point.” 

“I don’t mind, Moomintroll.” Snufkin shook his head, a fond smile on his face. “Go on, try and play something. Just search until you find the note you want.” 

“All right.” Moomin swallowed nervously, staring into the daunting holes of the harmonica before holding it up to his puckered lips and giving a cautious blow. It did take a bit of practice to play just one note, and whenever he tried to find a new one he found all sorts of unpleasant sounds coming out of the instrument before he got to where he wanted. After only a few minutes, his mouth was already starting to hurt and he stopped to rub at his lips. 

“How do you play this for hours?” 

Snufkin laughed, taking the harmonica back as he explained, “Well, for one thing, you were moving your mouth too much. You should move the instrument with your hands, not your lips.” 

“Oooh.” Moomin groaned. “That makes sense.” 

Snufkin chuckled for a bit longer, wiping the instrument down once with his sleeve. “I know what you meant earlier now,” he spoke up, eyes twinkling with mischief as he teased, “You also look adorable when you’re struggling.” 

Moomin felt his fur stand on end as heat travelled down his body. “Oh, hush.” Moomin gently pushed at his shoulder, smiling a little at the joyful laugh that came out of Snufkin’s mouth. “Let’s just agree that we’re both adorable, all right?” 

Snufkin paused for a moment, thinking that over. “Only if you agree that you’re the most adorable, being so large and fluffy.” 

Moomin snorted, leaning in to nuzzle Snufkin’s forehead. “Deal.” 

[eddiebodywantssome]

Hi! It's the same anon again: could I get some javey fake dating au where Davey needs a date or smth and Jack maybe owed him money or smth so he's like 'okay instead of paying me back,, please be my date pLEASE' and ofc,,,they fall,,,in love,,,,

i know this anon and first off i wanna say hi! ilu 

second of all, sorry this took so long??? 

third: i very much enjoyed writing this and as a result it’s LONG and not rlly to the point lmao so lmk if you want a part 2 n i will be more than happy to write it :D

words: 1,671

tw: none 

Javey - “you owe me”

Jack hadn’t gone to bed yet. He sat on his windowsill, letting his pencil skim the paper, sketching whatever he felt like. The moon. A cluster of cacti. That three-legged cat from school. He took a sip of the cocoa Charlie had brought him, all in all, feeling very at peace with himself and the world.

His bubble of peace was broken by his phone’s ringtone going off at full volume. He jumped in surprise. Goddamn Charlie must’ve been fiddling with his phone again. A blurry selfie of Jack and Davey told him that it was, in fact, Davey calling.

He looked up at the clock on the wall. Almost 1 in the morning. Davey only ever called that late during exam season when he needed grounding.

“Hello?” “Jackie,” Davey’s voice came through. “I need help.” Jack shot up, ready to sprint to the Jacobs's if Davey gave the word. “What happened? Is everything okay?” “Yes, yes, please relax,” Davey said. “What’s up?”

Davey took a breath. “I need a boyfriend.” Jack laughed humorlessly. “Don’t we all.” “No, I need one for tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Jack said. “So?” “So...” Davey said. “You owe me money.” Jack was silent for a beat. “Dave, I'd love to help you but I just feel like there are other options to consider before hiring a prostitute, y’know?” “What? No, that’s not what I was suggesting!” Jack grinned, knowing that Davey’s face was blushing beet red at the other end. “I just need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend for Sarah’s art show.”

“Why does Sarah think you have a boyfriend?” “It’s a long story. Please help me?”

Jack sucked his cheeks. “I dunno, Davey. It seems like a big commitment.” “It’s not and you know it,” Davey groaned. “The show’s tomorrow, you owe me money. Consider this paying me back. Please? I'm desperate.”

Jack mulled it over. “Alright, fine. Just for tomorrow, right?” “Right.” “Fine. But you owe me for this.” “No, you’re doing this because you owe me.” “Oh. Right.”

Davey’s chuckling distorted a little. “Okay, thanks, man. I'll see you tomorrow. Wear something nice, I'll come to pick you up.” “You got it, babe.” “You don’t have to do that now.” “Just getting into character. Night, Davey.” “Night, Jackie.”

He cut the call and threw the phone on his bed. He had to pretend to date his best friend for a day. How hard could that be? 

---

“Let’s go over it again.” Jack groaned from the passenger seat. This was a lot more detail-oriented than he thought it would be. “Dave, we’ve been over this thrice-” “I just wanna make sure we’re on the same page!” Davey said as he gripped the steering wheel. 

Jack looked at him pointedly. “On December 12th I told you I liked you. On December 14th we went on our first date to Jacobi’s. On June 12th I got you a stuffed toad because that’s an inside joke of ours. On June 13th we made sweet, sweet love-” David nearly lost control of his steering. “Jack!” he tried punching him but missed. “That’s not part of it!” “I’m just playing, Davey,” Jack laughed. “Relax a little. It'll be fine.” “I just don’t want her to think I'm a fraud,” Davey muttered, keeping his eyes on the road.

Jack looked at him curiously. They had been in the car for a little over an hour and a half (the gallery was in Pennsylvania, which Davey conveniently forgot to mention) and this was the first time Davey seemed to have been okay talking about it. Jack immediately pounced on the opening. “Okay, spill.” Davey refused to look at him. “Spill what?” “Why does Sarah think you’re dating someone?”

He chewed his lip. “We were talking and she just assumed I was. And at the time I didn’t have the energy to correct her so she thought that for a while... and then it became too late to say anything, y’know? And now here we are. This is literally my worst nightmare.” “Ouch, Dave,” Jack chuckled. “No, not you. I don’t mind that bit. I just don’t like lying to her, y’know?” Davey said as he pulled into the art gallery’s parking. “Okay, we’re here. Please behave.”

Jack stored the bit where Davey had basically said he didn’t mind dating Jack to use at a later date. He pretended to mull the request over before saying, “Nah, I don’t think Boyfriend Jack would do that. I'm telling her about your piss kink.” “Jack!” “I’m joking. Maybe.” Jack hurriedly unbuckled himself as Davey started whining. After he got out and locked the car, they both stood outside the door.

Davey smoothened down his shirt and fixed his tie. Jack noticed and patted down his denim jacket in imitation. “All set. Open the door, lover.” Davey hesitantly placed his hand on the handle. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

Jack studied his best friend’s face for a minute. He reached out and grabbed Davey’s free hand. “Hey. It's gonna be fine. It's just a couple of hours, right? We can go get froyo after this. My treat.” Davey forced a smile. “You don’t have any money.” “Actually, Medda spotted me this time so I do,” Jack beamed. David nodded, took a breath, and pushed the door open.

The gallery was pretty small, and a lot of the people milling around were Sarah’s friends. She had gone to a fancy art school for junior year and the gallery they were at was showcasing her project for the year.   “Where is she?” Davey asked as Jack inspected the paintings around the room. Not really his style, but beautifully done nonetheless.

“David!” Sarah called from across the room. David grinned, dropping Jack’s hand to catch his sister as she ran towards him. He staggered back, swinging her around. “Bear! I've missed you. Big turnout, huh?” “Ah, they’re just here because they have to be. Where’s the rest of the family?” she asked. “Driving down after Dad’s dentist appointment today.” 

“Awesome. So, Jack Kelly,” Sarah turned her attention towards the shorter boy. “It’s nice to meet you.” “You know me, Sarah. We’ve had sleepovers together.” “This is the first time you're being introduced as Dave’s boyfriend!” she insisted. “It’s different, trust me.” Jack laughed. “Sure, it is,” he said, squeezing Davey’s hand as he winked at him.

Sarah cocked her head to the side. “Aw, you’re the gross kind. Alright, come take a look around. It's some of my best stuff.” They started walking around, Jack still clinging to Davey while trying to analyse the art around him. “Can I just say, I knew this would happen at some point,” Sarah said as she led them to a corner. Davey snorted. “No way.” “Way! When you refused to tell me who it is you’re dating I knew it had to be someone you were embarrassed by,” she winked at Jack who gasped and placed a hand over his heart. “I am simply wounded, Sarah Jacobs.” “Simp is right,” she said, as she pointed at a still life of a shattered vase. “Now, I call this one Pain...” 

---

“This was nice, Bear. I'm glad we shipped you off a whole state away,” Davey joked as he pulled his sister in for a hug. She laughed and patted his back. “Mhm, made me miss you guys, honestly. Good thing I'm coming back, huh?” “What’s that now?” Jack asked.

“I’m coming back home,” Sarah repeated. “Summer, remember? I'll be driving down with Bill and Darcy in a few days. You have me for two whole months before I'm back in sunny Pennsylvania.” 

Davey forced a grin. “Oh. Right.” “I thought you’d be more excited, Daves,” Sarah frowned. “I’m ecstatic, Bear. Just...” “He doesn’t trust Bill and Darcy,” Jack cut in, glancing at Davey. “Yeah. He's being all brotherly and protective, right Dave?” “Uh, yeah.” 

Sarah eyed him suspiciously. “Bill and Darcy are as gay as it gets, it’s fine. Anyway, drive safe. And you,” she said, pointing at Jack. “I expect you to play a big part in our summer fun, okay? He's invited to our Fourth of July party, right?” Davey glanced at Jack. “I guess he is now.”

“Sweet! I'll see you at home soon, Daves. Love you!” And with that, she bounded back into the crowd. Davey didn’t move. Jack gently pried the keys from his fingers and pushed him outside. “I’ll drive, alright?”

Davey didn’t say anything for the ten minutes it took Jack to pull into the nearest frozen yogurt place his GPS showed them. He didn’t say anything after getting his froyo either.

Jack poked at his pink swirl and said, “Dave? Say something?”

Davey just shook his head and stared at the vanilla yogurt in front of him. “One day. It was just supposed to be one day.” “You could just say we broke up,” Jack said as he stuck the spoon in his mouth. “I still want you around, though,” Davey said. “If I tell Sarah we broke up she’ll shoot you on sight.” Jack’s heart swelled slightly when he heard that. “Even if we broke up on good terms?” “Yeah. You know her, she doesn’t trust anybody like that.” “Hey, I'm still friends with my exes,” Jack complained. “It’s literally all I’m known for.” “Have I mentioned that Sarah hates that about you?” Davey said, smiling as he moved his froyo around. “We don’t have a choice. We need to keep this up till she goes back. God, I'm so sorry, Jack. I should’ve just told her-”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Jack said, sensing a meltdown coming. “What's a couple of months, huh? We’ll just take it one day at a time. It'll be fine.” “Ugh, now I have to tell my parents and Les too,” Davey groaned and hit his head on the table. “Why am I such a moron?” Jack sympathetically patted his back. “I wish I knew, Dave. Now eat your goddamn yogurt.”

[rileybraxton]

Name: Riley Braxton Nickname: Brax Age: 34 FC: Paul Wesley Occupation: Tattooist at Scorpion Studios Side: Wicked Wolves Length of stay in Charming: approx. 14 years Positive traits:  + loyal, + crafty, + brave  Negative traits: - damaged, - suspicious, - hotheaded

triggers: parental adultery. drug abuse. addiction. crime. needles. 

✚ middle child ✚ due to his mother having an affair ( for years ) he and his elder brother share different fathers. however, he and his younger brother share the same father ( the guy mamma cheated with )  ✚ he was always a reckless child. it only worsened when he hit his teens and fell in with bad crowds ✚ staying out, doing disappearing acts or coming home drunk, if not drugged up too ✚ to be honest, his entire attitude stunk. he showed little to no respect for his parents, or older brother who he considered a bit of an uptight snoot ✚ if he’s honest, the only person he wasn’t a total asshole to was his younger brother ✚ he was 16 when he came home and caught his mother in bed with another man. not just any man, but his fathers best friend. the truth was exposed, it turned out that the affair had been going on for years  ✚ his mother begged him not to tell and promised to end it and he agreed. asshole so he was, he didn’t want to be the reason his father crumbled and his brother ended up with a broken home ✚ his motive may have started out purely but over the months, his bitterness? it only festered. his behaviour worsened, the disrespect began to have an impact on his parents relationship. the father just couldn’t seem to understand why his wife was seemingly letting him get away with everything he was doing ✚ he’d ask her for money which he only went out and spend on drugs. small things at first, a pill here, a spliff there. somewhere along the way he managed to get hooked on heroin, though amazingly he did manage to hide his needle poked arms ✚ it was amidst a drugged up haze that he felt some kind of penny drop. he was sat on the rooftop, watching his parents, his brother and his fathers best friend when he noticed something he hadn’t before ✚ the similarities between his man and his brother, between this man and him. the more he sat and stared, the more he couldn’t see a trace of his “father” in his own features, nor his younger brothers ✚ all it took was one out-loud thought and his mother confirmed everything with the simple look on her face. it was a lot to process, too much in-fact. which is what lead to an explosive dinner that same evening ✚ his “father” was laying into him, which wasn’t unusual. shaming him for being such a fuck up. usually he’d sit silently and take it, but this time? the words came flying out his mouth before he could think to stop them “who the fuck are you to talk to me like that? you’re not even my father. ain’t that right, mom?”  ✚ the truth came out in a hateful splurge. everything from how the affair had been going on at least 17 years, straight to “oh, and the guy? sitting right next to you” aka, the best friend ✚ so, his not so biological father ended up focusing that betrayal back onto riley, which resulted in the pair of them going toe to toe, breaking everything in sight as they threw their punches ✚ being a little shit, he was fully egging him on, “come on. that’s right. hit me. your wife’s a whore and you’re laying into me? makes perfect fucking sense” ✚ it wasn’t until he managed to get him on the floor that he noticed his little brother on the staircase, pausing the punch he was about to land on his fathers face. a simple “shit” under his breath ✚ he got up instantly, all that rage on his face disappeared and replaced with a soft warmth that he reserved only for his brother. he left to take him back up to bed, leaving his parents and the not so decent best friend to fight it out between themselves ✚ in the end it turns out they decided to stay together and try and work through it, but it only served to create a toxic environment ( more so ) ✚ riley was 20 and fully hooked on drugs when he got himself arrested for grand theft auto and it was the icing on the cake for both parents ✚ they didn’t exactly kick him out, but they made it clear he wasn’t welcome unless he cleaned his act up  ✚ surprisingly, he did try, but only after he packed up and moved in with a friend. he went cold turkey and yes, that shit fucking sucked. it was basic agony for at least three weeks before he began to feel like he was getting better ✚ rather than return home, he did perhaps one of the shittiest things a person could do & he stole his mothers jewellery that were basically family air-looms, pawned them for a few grand, bought a car and hit the road ( not before saying goodbye to his little bro and promising him he would call and visit all the time. )  ✚ in truth, he wanted to take him, but he knew it was selfish, especially when he didn’t even have a secure home ✚ he ended up in charming, fresh faced and sober. he stayed in a motel for a few months, saving money from odd jobs and focusing his energy on building a life for himself ✚ he’d always been creative, drawing & sketching came so naturally to him that he decided to train up and become a qualified tattoo artist ✚ at 22, he finally got his own place to rent and things were looking up. he’d passed his courses with flying colours, made a couple friends and even met a girl who he fell head over heels for  ✚ the only trouble was, this girl was just as reckless as he was and their entire relationship was something like a beautiful tragedy. they’d party most nights and for the first few months, everything was fine. he managed to say no every time she’d offer him a pill, every time her friends offered something stronger. truth be told, he’s not sure exactly when he slipped up, or even why. but he did, and there he was once again sticking needles in his arms and wasting away. ✚ he ended up breaking up with his girlfriend and she hit the road with a couple pals not long after - he’s never seen her since ✚ he did a good job at hiding his problem, still managing to hold down his bar jobs to pay his rent, at least for a few months. everything changed when his 14 year old brother showed up on his doorstep with all his bags ✚ once again, he forced himself to go cold turkey. if his brother insisted on living with him, riley didn’t want him to watch him destroy himself. so really, he’s quite thankful that his brother showed up when he did, who knows, it probably saved his life ✚ back on track and finally in a good place, he fell in with the wolves and quickly realised that’s exactly where he needed to be ✚ some may say it’s tempting fate, running drugs considering he’s an addict, but he vowed the day they accepted him into their fold that he’d never make them regret it ✚ fyi, he hasn’t. whilst he has fell off the wagon twice since, he never did the wolves dirty. anything he took, he paid for, any job they gave him, he completed ✚ he probably drinks more than he should and he still enjoys a spliff, but he’s never touched any other drug in 3 years and to be honest, he’s very proud of himself ✚ he got a secure job at scorpion tattoo studios 2 years ago & he really enjoys it ✚ sooo, he’s clean, he has a job, a home, a family in the form of wicked wolves and a good set of friends. life is pretty sweet ✚ that’s not to say he’s not still very hot headed & impulsive. probably quite fuckin’ damaged too, but hey, all the best people are ✚ thanks for reading my novel 

wanted connections:

✚ younger brother - CLOSED ✚ oldest brother(who’s probably a cop or smth straight shooting) - OPEN ✚ friends - OPEN ✚ old/new enemies - OPEN ✚ friends with benefits - OPEN ✚ the original ex girlfriend mentioned above - OPEN ✚ maybe a repeat client who lets him tattoo him/her with his own designs? - OPEN ✚ someone who knows he’s a recovering addict maybe? since i imagine he doesn’t typically share that info, it could be someone who’s seen him attend a meeting, or is even a recovering addict themselves - OPEN ✚ literally anything!