#temporary breaking hiatus to say this

[giggly-squiggily]

Obanai’s the hottest Hashira thank you and goodnight

*crawls back into mini Hiatus cave*

[charpim]

😙

[shegetsburned]

❝ somethin’ stupid like i love you ❞ w. shiu kong ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .

.nsfw.

• — content. shiu realizes he’s slowly falling for you and absolutely hates it. • — author’s note. coming back of hiatus with this! part of my fwb shiu content. feel free to send suggestions for this trope btw <3

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who genuinely thinks this whole thing is suspicious. it has never happened before. there’s no way he’s thinking about you this much. you must be playing a game he isn’t aware of.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who after a few months, made many more calls and asked for you more often than the usual one day a week. it has come to three to four days and even when you were busy he found ways to clear your schedule and have you all to himself.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who has gotten rougher and less patient when he fucks you. as soon as he steps through the door his hands are all over you and his warm breath covers your neck like he had been waiting all day to finally get a sample of your addicting scent.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who has a habit of “forgetting” his jacket or his pack of cigarettes at your place just to call you a few hours later to pass by and get his items back. little did you know it was just to see you some more.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who stays longer and doesn’t leave you as soon as he’s done. to your surprise, he stays until you fall asleep or sometimes when you’re lucky, shares a bath or a shower with you. nothing sexual, he just prefers to stay clean and helps you in the process.

you two have easy conversations about anything and everything without being scared of the other’s judgment. shiu likes to talk about anything as long as it doesn’t involve work and you love it when his deep chuckle resonates in your ears.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who has asked himself several times why he always needed to come back to you. he never realized how much he looked forward to these intimate moments which contradicted the whole accord you guys had made. this was supposed to be temporary and, now, he couldn’t go two days without the touch of your skin against his.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who begins to open up more about his work and clients. how uninteresting and full of cash they are, how good the pay is and how easy it is to fool scared millionaires. more importantly, he had told you in total confidence that he thought about quitting his job. it may have been easy money but it wasn’t the most morally fulfilling job.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who, for the first time, has stayed the night, sleeping in with you. you thought you’d awoke to an empty side of the bed, like always, but here he was, peacefully sleeping. needless to say, you had never seen him reveal this side of himself. he looked so comfortable, you were the one to leave first that morning.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who cursed himself for falling asleep in your bed, but it felt so good and he was so tired that his body had just given out. he made sure to gather everything before leaving in a hurry. no jacket or packs forgotten, only leaving his fresh and rich smell of smoke all over your apartment.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who was distracted at work. his thoughts diverged to his hands trailing your curves and your perfect lips he wanted to taste so badly. the feeling pierced his heart. did he actually miss you?

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who tried to dismiss his feelings by taking a small break from you and hooking up with different girls. despite his best efforts, nothing felt right when he was fucking them. he was quick and uninterested. it was so boring without you.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who, determined to not fall into your meaningless trap, has finally decided to give you one final call. he’d explain everything to you in person.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who got lost in time and ended up pussy drunk, between your legs, once again squeezing his soft tongue into your tight pussy. after all these sessions, he came to be the best at eating you out and knowing precisely how you wanted to be touched and handled.

“god- i fucking love you, [y/n].” he murmurs against your sloppy entrance, heavy breath itching at your skin and you can’t quite discern his sentence before panic finally sets in.

it comes out so easily out of his mouth, between two pants, like praise he had said over and over again. he doesn’t even notice, but you do. oh, yes you do.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who continues to place wet kisses on your inner thighs but you had stopped clenching the sheets to stare at him, eyes wide open. shiu was so strict about following the rules he had personally set, to maintain this kind of relationship and here he was saying that he loved you. what a fool.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who’s so mesmerized by your euphoric scent that he hasn’t yet become aware of the fact that he accidentally confessed to you. you can feel your heartbeat fasten and your pulse through your ears when he pronounces the words. your pink-tinted cheeks betray how flustered you are.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who brings you back to reality with a guttural groan as he dives back against your dripping folds, his nose pressing against your clit. his hands open up your legs more as you give out the meaningless fight and fall deeper into his delicious embrace.

“f-fuck.. wait- aaah- shiu..”

your mind’s hazy from the pleasure but you’re still thinking about his words. you wonder if it was only in the heat of the moment or a true confession he couldn’t have hidden much longer.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who had promised to never kiss you in fear of his emotions getting the best of him, but this night was different. your puffy pink lips were looking particularly pretty and captivating. he wasn’t one to break promises but his self-control was hanging on by a thread when he was so drunk over you. he moved upward, parting with your needy cunt to place a trail of light kisses along your chest, from your belly all the way to your neck.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who doesn’t hesitate further. his whole body’s covering yours when he leans into your neck, nibbling at the skin before capturing your lips in a hot and steamy kiss. he’s breathing the amount of air you have left, causing you to stop him abruptly, your fingers pushing his lips away. he’s taken aback, his eyes questioning yours with your skin still blocking his lips.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who looks perplex, like he missed an episode. what were you so tense all of a sudden? wasn’t he doing enough? you always loved the way he ate you out, so what’s changed? of course, he had forgotten about the kissing rule, but the flustered gaze you were wearing told him something else bothered you the most.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu whose gaze goes from your wet lips to your eyes. he knows what he did wrong but the memory of his confession is still blurry. delicately enough, he wraps his hand around your wrist to free his mouth. you whisper his name, panting, but he cuts you off almost immediately.

“don’t read too much into what i say when we’re fuckin’, angel.”

he’s trying to defend himself. truth is he was almost ashamed of slipping out to you like that. exposing his buried feelings to you made him want to disappear, especially considering the face you were wearing right now.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who’s reluctant to talk about it, he doesn’t want to talk about his feelings, he just wants to fuck you. had he forgotten why he came here in the first place? he had never gone this far with any of the girls he was fucking before and here he was, almost completely naked and so drunk over you that your pussy wasn’t enough for a taste. wasn’t he supposed to talk to you about terminating this affair?

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who was embarrassed to be so vulnerable when it came to you. he quickly regains his senses, moving away to give you enough space to sit up and wrap your sweating figure with the sheets.

“why are you so ashamed of it, shiu?”

he shakes his head frenetically. god. you didn’t understand anything did you? being obsessed with you wasn’t in any of his plans. he needed to get out of this situation quickly, otherwise he’d simply betray himself further.

“we can’t do this anymore. I’m ending our deal.” he says, skillfully putting his belt back with his clenched back muscles exposed to your sight.

his words were frustrating. was it your fault? was it you that he was so ashamed to love? “you were the one to break the rules, shiu.”

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who brushes it off, buttoning his white shirt back on. his hands travel inside his pockets, desperately searching for a cigarette. it was so annoying. it was so annoying that you could see right through him and that he had no power over it. he had no power over his feelings for you and it was infuriating.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who refuses to explain any further. the last thing he said before leaving your place was that you didn’t have to expect anymore calls or texts from him.

what he didn’t say was that he wanted to stay so badly. he wanted, without shame, to tell you how you made him feel but his pride inevitably got the best of him and he left without another word, leaving you naked in your bed, wondering how the hell you were so hang up on such a confused man.

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[holly-the-trash-writer]

Spencer Reid x Famous!Reader

Synopsis: After your home is broken into by a stalker, your bf cheats, the FBI is called, and a new romance begins to take over.

Told through Instagram posts.

TW for mentions of stalkers

Part 1. Part 2.

yourinstagram

Liked by zendaya, pgarcia and 67,927,726 others

yourinstagram 🖤🤍 NYC I love you so much

View all 20,716 comments

rarebeauty 😍😍

dovecameron You are the most beautiful human

Liked by yourinstagram

tchalamet A devine being 💫

florencepugh ❤️❤️❤️

y/n.is.queen I MISSED YOUR SMILE!

woketh.teen She looks so happy to be back on stage

and.what. The crowd went CRAZAY. The energy was unbelievable! So happy I was there!!!!!!

y/n.gossip That group hug tho 🥹

Comments on this post have been limited

yourname.stan

Liked by 6,531 others

yourname.stan SHE'S BACK! 😭😭😭😭

View all 382 comments

kiki.kiwi The way they all held hands at the start of the show killed me. I cried so much.

nerdymcnerd No. But I swear I saw that FBI agent dancing to her songs!!!

dracoandme PICS WHERE?!?!?!

y/ns.army I need to see this!!!

onabreak The romance is BLOOMING

pgarcia @theemilyprentis 👀

y/n.updates

Liked by y/nnnn, d.morgan and 5,927 others

y/n.updates YOU GUYS!!! Y/N JUST POSTED THIS ON HER IG STORY THIS MORNING 😍😍

Story reads "☀️Sunshine☀️ and Road tripping with my new friend. Meet Spencer."

View all 1,826 comments

sasha.mac She is a Goddess!! A Queen!! 👑

gucci.goddess He legit looks like a Spencer 🤣

fanfic.reader I smell romance in the air 💕💕

jd.dj He's her FBI body guard. Stop.

ooh.bratz Can he be mine next😭😍

bye-felicia THOSE HANDS 🤩

carter.nation Took no time did she 🤣

_isla Matt literally cheated on her. You can't say shit.

bubbles It's sad she can't just be her own person and be single. You don't need a man girl. Chill.

lame-o She can do what she wants??

celebgossip

Liked by user82 and 9,952 others

celebgossip During Y/n's show tonight, her third show back since her temporary shock hiatus, the star broke down in tears while singing Almost is Never Enough. During which the crowd came together and sang the rest of the song for her.

View all 972 comments

itsmemario She must be feeling so much pain right now but I hope she feels comforted by her fans being there for her

y/ns.army I watched the video and when she sang So close to being in love. Her voice cracked and she tried to power through but she just broke down 💔💔

keyboardwarrior Why did she come back if she was just gonna cry for 90% of her show? Waste of money. Waste of time. Get yourself sorted and then come back.

ryanslife Your mum must be proud.

gigglegiraffe She's allowed to have feelings?

hater482 Exactly. Imagine going to a concert and they're just crying. Just don't sing that song?

daydreamer She sings love songs dipshit

y/nfan I just want to hug her so bad 😭

y/nupdates

Liked by y/nismother and 2,826 others

y/nupdates Y/n posted these to her story 10mins ago!! She's spoiling us. She's writing new songs. Going out. And having fun with her FBI agent Spencer.

y/nfan WHOOOOOS BUYING HER FLOWERS?!

bi.bi.bi Herself?

freakygirl Imagine if it was the stalker?!

queenie.me Doubt it. They probably check her mail and shid.

spillthetea Maybe Spencer? 👀

enews

Liked by teaspill and 29,8364 others

enews BREAKING‼️ Dash cam footage was leaked today showing FBI agents arresting a man outside Y/n's New York apartment.

We've reached out to the BAU team and Y/n's management for comment.

y/n.updates OMG THEY GOT HIM!!!

bi.bianca Thank GOD!!! She can breathe now 😭

queenie.me Those agents saved her GOD damn life. 😭

y/nnnnn I'm so happy rn. She's safe ❤️

imdreaming Sending so many prayers to her 🙏🏼

vampdiary Spencer I'd HAWT ngl

thirstay Girl literally!!!

freeshavocadoo The way he swerved him too. That agent got rizz.

yourinstagram

Liked by tomholland13 and 1,837,937 others

yourinstagram the light inside my universe now

Comments have been disabled

Private Account

dr.s.reid

Liked by emilyprentiss, yourinstagram and 12 others

dr.s.reid 🩷

p.garcia The CUTEST 😭🥰 so glad it's Official!!!

dr.s.reid She is and so am I.

emilyprentiss @p.garcia I told you!!

p.garcia I just couldn't believe!!

derekmorgan Pretty Boy got gameee

jen.jarau Spence I'm so happy for you!!

[melis-writes]

Blood Money (Tony Montana x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut) Chapter 3 – An Eye For An Eye.

Chapter 2 / Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“Your new boyfriend is in Miami." / “I’m here for Tony Montana.”

Tony's fiery gaze burned into the back of your mind but your name etched on his heart from the very moment he knew who you were. Keeping you on his mind like prayer, Tony wastes no time in attempting to squeeze himself out of every interrogation at the Cuban migrant camp he and Manny are detained in. Like a power move claiming he knows you, Tony's beckoning you to meet him once more in your hometown with bold claims striking the attention of your father–one of the most notorious, wealthy businessmen of Miami–with one claim being that of love.

[WARNINGS]: None!

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: Oh my goodness, a LONG time coming and the chapter update is finally here at last!! 😭💀 I'm thrilled to update this fic again and share it with the Tony girlies! Battling writer's block and life getting super busy was a chore but I. AM. BACK and writing! And yet I must break everyone's heart again by saying this update of Blood Money officially marks my temporary hiatus of Al fics outside of The Godfather universe. 💔 I will now solely be working on my Godfather fanfics until I'm finished so I have ample time and opportunity to write more consistently and update fics even more often than I ever have. I'm definitely not abandoning this fic and I will finish it someday soon! For now, let's dive back into Tony and Celeste's story!! 🥺🤞🏻

With a taste for success and dollar bills, Tony Montana’s drug empire grew in vast wealth, power and influence by your side as the kingpin’s lover. From sharing an intimate history in Cuba, you and Manny Ribera were the only ones to believe and support Tony from rags to riches. Embroiled in the same lifestyle and sharing enemies, you and Tony come to build your empire and world together with the threat of it collapsing from the inside. As partnership turns to betrayal and thrill to danger, you find yourself in-between ultimatums and sacrifices for the man you love.

'I'm always in the right, man. Always am.' The shit-eating grin over Tony's face spreads equal amounts of tension and frustration throughout the interrogation room; keeping the officers on edge for word back from your family knowing Tony could potentially be a protected individual under the Navarro family while thinking at the very same time that Tony could be bullshitting everyone just to waste their time.

Tony sits all too comfortably in front of the officers with his arms crossed, all the more amused watching them huff quietly to themselves and glower back at Tony every few minutes.

"So--" Tony attempts to start a lively conversation on his behalf.

"You shut the fuck up, Montana," the first cop points his finger at Tony. "Don't say a fuckin' word."

"We're not playing with you," the second cop scowls. 

"Alright, man. Alright," Tony shrugs his shoulders loosely, "sheesh. I keep quiet when people talk on the phone, like Mama taught me, okay?"

Letting out another shaky sigh of irritation, the officers exchange a glance amongst one another, knowing well enough that if they've bothered the Navarro family for no good reason, it'll result in a guaranteed suspension without pay and likely following up with getting fired. 

Then again, there's always the possibility that it could be Tony finding himself in hot water with the Navarros due to his cockiness and stupidity, and if that means having Tony out of the refugee camp and no longer able to be a nuisance, then it'll be both a best case scenario and a relief for the officers involved. Still, it's all too much to consider at once.

"Tell the supervisor," the first cop mumbles, "he needs to know what's going on."

"Will do," the other sighs, taking a seat back at his desk to grab out his notepad.

Ignoring Tony outright, the first cop moves his stool over to the telephone by the desk and sits next to it before beginning to dial the Navarro family reception line.

'By heart?' Tony's eyes flicker with interest, noticing how the officer has your family's number memorized by heart—rendering him surprised and amused at the same time. 

'So they know her,' Tony thinks to himself. 'She not a nobody. She a somebody. I got her name on the line for me. Just for me.' 

This means more to Tony than you can already know, even if all you'll ever do is show up to spit on his face and blame him for wasting your time. The satisfaction alone is everything for him.

Both officers continue to ignore Tony and avoid making any sort of eye contact with him; murmuring ushered words to one another and pressing through more numbers on the telephone as it rings.

Only mere moments after does Tony notice how tense the officer on the telephone gets by the way his muscles jerk up in response to the telephone being answered by a monotone-voiced, middle-aged man speaking out.

"Navarro residence."

The very individual answering the phone would be your father's advisor and right-hand man, Gabriel.

"Cuban Detention Center, Officer Frank speaking," the cop says politely, clearing his throat. "May we please speak to Mr. Navarro?"

There's a short pause on the other end of the line. "Do you have a request or appointment booked in advance?"

"No," Officer Frank answers quietly. "Um, ahem—this is in relation to immigration and detention. There's a gentleman here claiming he was requested by name from a potential--" Frank scowls over at Tony. "Sponsor." 

Gabriel's tone of voice grows considerably agitated. "I trust you have a good reason for wishing to bother Mr. Navarro. You will not hear it from me."

"Greatly appreciated," Officer Frank awkwardly replies as Gabriel begins to transfer the call to your father's personal telephone.

Fully aware of the telephone conversation ongoing with Gabriel, your father—Darren Navarro--is two stories up in his penthouse—still in his Versace morning robe, smoking a Cuban cigar.

His first words to Officer Frank once the line transfer is, "You better have a good reason for reaching my personal number, Frank."

"Oh yes sir, o-of course," Frank stammers. "I apologize, sir. I didn't mean to interrupt your day, but this is urgent."

"So you say so," your father is unmoved by the sudden sense of urgency. "I suppose it is coming from the immigration and refugee department. I've sponsored nobody, so what is all of this?"

Officer Frank's skin drains of color as he nervously exchanges a glance with his colleague, glumly shaking his head. "Um, sir, there was a mention of your daughter's name by a Cuban migrant."

Your father raises a brow, leaning back on his velvet chaise. Your last trip to Cuba and mentions of "Tony Montana" and "Manny Ribera" easily come to Darren's mind. 

"Interesting," Darren muses. "And what is this individual's name?"

"Tony Montana," Tony speaks up loud and clear, grinning. "And with my best friend, Manny Ribera."

"Shut the fuck up!" The second cop hisses, almost jumping out from behind his desk to hit Tony.

Darren's all very well aware Tony is in the same room and must know who he is by now, having heard everything. 

"Uh huh," your father chuckles. "I see."

"Sorry, sir. I'm so sorry," Frank scoffs, swallowing hard.

"Stop your whining," Darren rolls his eyes. "I heard the man loud and clear. This is no request for me but for my daughter then."

"The migrant claims to know Celeste Navarro personally, sir." Frank clears his throat.

"Yes, he does. That much is true," your father nods.

"May we speak to Celeste, sir?"

"No need," Darren brushes off the request, glancing towards his bedroom door. "Celeste will soon be on her way to greet both gentlemen personally.

"This man--" Frank begins, but is abruptly cut off and corrected by your father.

"Men," your father clarifies, refusing to exclude Manny. "There are two of them after all, so Celeste will see both. She knows both of them, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Darren blows out the smoke from his cigar around him, resting his cigar between his fingers as he admires the afternoon light glistening over his gold rings and jewelry. "Treat these men well. I'm aware of the reputation your detention center has and its demands. 'Gentle' is not in your vocabulary so be respectful. These are friends of the Navarro family and I expect them to be treated as such."

"Yes, sir..." Mortified, the officers stare in shock at a smirking Tony before your father hangs up on them.

~

Giving a drawn-out sigh, you roll your eyes in annoyance at the back cover of the gossip magazine you’ve been reading; already questioning why you bother with the tabloids just to entertain you.

Flipping back to the front cover of a bikini model on Miami beach, you rest your chin over your fist, wearing a flowing, pastel pink satin nightgown—laying on your stomach and dangling your feet, attempting to beat boredom.

Frank Sinatra’s “All By Myself” plays softly on your white and gold decorated record player, a compliment to the similar colors lavishly decorated over your bedroom.

Practically the size of a house’s first floor, your bedroom itself spans 1,500 square feet and is fit for a princess, covered in various shades of pink with a glimmering diamond chandelier above you.

The very king-size bed you lounge upon is adorned with a bubble-gum pink cashmere and quilt duvet and six silk encased pillows, a polar bear throw in the center of your bedroom upon the marble floors striking attention to the wall fixtures and architecture of the bedroom taking inspiration from the Palace of Versailles.

You furrow your brows in annoyance at the magazine in your hands, only to have your thought suddenly interrupted by the sound of your father knocking on your door.

You peek up in interest, brushing a curtain of your hair back. “Come in.”

“Hi, darling,” your father enters your room with a warm smile—holding a glass of iced rum in one hand and concealing something in his fist with the other. “Didn’t think I’d be giving you good news so quick, eh?”

Chuckling, your father opens his fist and lightly tosses your car keys over to you.

Reaching your arm out, you snatch the car keys mid-air—staring at your father in confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Your new boyfriend is in Miami,” your father says with a laugh. “Immigration services at the Cuban refugee camp called me just earlier.”

“Huh,” you blink, rubbing your temple as your memory recollects, hitting you all at once.

“I never say goodbye either. I say you’re gonna remember these faces—my face.”

‘Tony Montana.’ Your face flushes red as you clear your throat, glancing up at your father. “They called you?”

“Mhmm,” your father nods, taking a small sip from his drink. “Quick to it, I’ll give them that. I don’t think that Tony of yours has been there for very long from the sounds of it. They wanted to reach you, actually.”

“Makes sense of course,” you slide aside your magazine, sitting up in bed. “Great…”

“What do you think?” Your father raises a brow.

“I’m not thinking of anything,” you give your head a shake.

“No? You sure you don’t owe this Tony and his friend a favor or two?”

“I don’t owe anyone anything,” you roll your eyes out of frustration. “But for Tony,” you clutch your car keys, “if he wants to see me, I’ll go see him. I’ll see him, but I don’t know what I can do for him.”

“Is this really someone worth wriggling out of months worth of paperwork and getting into the front of the line? ‘Cause I’ll let you decide that,” your father shrugs. 

Getting off of your bed, you eye your purse from across the bedroom. “I think I’ve already made my decision.”

“I’m sure you made the right one,” your father turns back on his heel.

“Is Tony waiting for me right now?” You head over to your walk-in closet.

“He is,” your father confirms, placing his hand over your doorknob to close the door behind him. “And I think you’re the only person he wants to see right now.”

~

‘Tony Montana…’ You let out a soft sigh, leaning your head back against your car’s headrest. ‘Again and so soon.’ With great effort, you push aside the fluttering feeling in your heart every time Tony’s name and face cross your mind; clearing your throat and putting your Armani sunglasses on.

Starting up your Mercedes-Benz 380SL Convertible and pulling out of your estate’s parking lot carefully, you focus on nothing but getting directly to immigration services—able to collect your thoughts.

Letting the warm summer breeze flow through your hair as you step on the gas, determined to know just why Tony’s got your name mixed up with the law.

You may not have taken the rugged, cocky stranger very seriously back in Cuba but you’d be lying to yourself right now if you said you weren’t a little intimidated by Tony’s timing.

‘Didn’t think my name would cross your lips so soon either… Full of surprises.’ 

Tony knows he can sit and wait in the interrogation room for an eternity to come so as long as it’s promised you’ll show up—riding off on the idea of seeing you again like a lingering high.

Driving through the streets of Miami, you tap your French tip manicure against your steering wheel patiently through every red light.

Your eyes flicker over beach-bound tourists making their way over the crosswalks, noting the impatient drivers on the other side of the intersection honking at each other and tossing cigarettes out the window; the scent of body odor and beer not far from the beach itself.

Giving your head a shake, you scrunch your nose in disgust and drive off—not far from reaching the secluded immigration center from downtown.

You arrive a little over ten minutes later, driving into the clearance section with the rest of the other drivers waiting their turn to speak with an officer at the booth and be admitted. 

Resting your arm on the windowpane of your car, you peek your head out of the window just enough for your face to be seen, and just as you expected, you’re recognized by an officer at a booth opposite from you almost instantaneously. 

‘Uh huh.’ Noticing the officer blocking the path of the upcoming car who was next in line, you slowly drive up as he gestures for you to follow.

“How is that fucking fair?!” You hear a honk and shout of irritation from the other driver, simply ignoring him and continuing to cautiously drive up.

“Blow it out your ass, buddy,” the officer rolls his eyes.

Parking your car, you glance up at the officer who only gives you a brief nod and lets you through without a single word; just one of the many perks of being the daughter of one of Miami’s most notorious businessmen.

“Alright,” you mutter under your breath as you approach the guarded parking lot, seeing another officer heading directly your way. ‘Let’s see what this is really all about.’

Taking off your sunglasses, you make eye contact with the officer who furrows his brows at you in confusion; more than likely wondering how you got in so quickly and just who you are to be taking priority over anyone else.

“And who might you be?” The officer asks smugly.

“I think you know who I am,” you reply back coyly. “I’m here for Tony Montana.”

~

As smug and prideful as he can be, Tony slouches in his seat with his arms crossed and completely relaxed as if he’s the one arranging the interrogation rather than being interrogated. 

As apparent as the officers make it seem to Tony how thoroughly pissed, exhausted, and anxious they are dealing with him, Tony reflects it with his nonchalant attitude on purpose.

“You think you’re taking some sort of vacation, Montana?” Officer Frank scowls.

 “Sure, man,” Tony shrugs his shoulders loosely. “I think my vacation is on the way.”

Ignoring the immigration officer who escorts you inside the facility as some mock bodyguard, you make your way towards the entrance of the interrogation offices where the officer gestured you to, making note of the maximum-security gates and barbed wire high walls.

Giving a small huff of annoyance and adjusting your hair, you approach a narrow hallway inside the next building and set your sunglasses on your head.

“This way, please,” the officer guiding you murmurs and politely steps in front of you.

Unphased and hardly listening, you follow the officer until you both reach an interrogation door marked “11B”.

You maintain your distance from both the officer and the door as the officer leans over and quickly knocks on the door not to ask to come in but to signal his entrance.

A wide, playful grin spreads over Tony’s face as he turns his head back to face the door—absolutely thrilled to see it about to open in front of him.

Fear simmers back into the officers the moment they spot a feminine silhouette behind the tinted glass of the door, instantly remembering now more than ever that their jobs are on the line.

Pushing open the door, the officer guiding you inside steps in first and out of your way—clearing his throat to speak out, “Miss Celeste Navarro is here, sir.”

‘Celeste Navarro…’ Seeing you before him once more, Tony’s pupils widen as a strong surge of attraction hits him—coursing through his veins.

Tony’s muscles tighten and he feels the heat of arousal trickling inside of him as he locks eyes with you, stunned and utterly admiring every inch of your figure.

Attempting to look at you with more humility than defeat or nervousness, the officers are put off by your very presence and can say or do nothing as you cross your arms; expectant and domineering before everyone else.

You’re the only spot of color in the otherwise dull room filled with grey uniforms and sweaty men; dressed in an Armani, pastel pink, cropped tweed blazer, a matching mini skirt, a white chiffon Calvin Klein blouse with a bow at your collar and four-inch glossy nude pumps. 

“There she is, she’s the one,” Tony smirks at you—breaking the momentary silence in the room.

“Ahem,” Officer Frank clears his throat, beginning to sit upright in his seat. “You know this man, miss?”

“Do I?” You raise a brow, unamused. “It feels like I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Yes, baby,” Tony mutters to himself inaudibly. ‘Come to me. You’re here now.’

“Miss Navarro,” the other officer begins to speak up awkwardly, “apologies if this is an intrusive question however this man claims to know you and—”

”And she’s my fiancée, as I was telling you. Okay, man?” Tony interrupts, rolling his eyes. “Can I have some privacy with my fiancée, man?”

‘Fiancee? What the hell is he talking about?’ Struck into shock by Tony’s words, you hold your posture and expression, but you know where Tony’s coming from and just why he’s deciding to play this game with you now.

“Yes, so what?” You snap back, noticing the playful twinkle in Tony’s eyes. “It’s true, he is my fiancée.”

‘Tony… I hope you know what you’re doing. I swear… Now is not the time to put on a show.’ 

The officers stare at each other in utter discomfort, remaining silent. 

“But I don’t recall that being anyone’s business except mine,” you narrow your eyes at them, taking a step forward to Tony.

Tony takes your soft hand in his, caressing his thumb over the back of your hand softly. “See?”

“Well,” Officer Frank swallows hard, “if that’s the case—”

Your eyes snap open in shock as Tony leans up in his seat, suddenly cupping both of your cheeks and immediately pulling you into a crushing, deep kiss.

‘Oh!’ Your lips collide over his and your eyes flutter shut in response, feeling the warmth of his tongue teasing the tip of yours in loving passion without a care—ensnared in the moment of having you as his fiancée with no intentions of letting go. 

[barbieaemond]

Temporary hiatus (sort of)

Hello lovelies, this is just a little notice for my lovely readers. Sadly for me, cause writing helps me escape the hideous real life, I feel I must take a little break. I've been experiencing this block for a few weeks now and it gets me very frustrated and utterly inconclusive. I don't know why but my ideas sound good in my head and absolutely nonsense or stupid when I have to put them down. So I think it's best to take some distance for a while, could be two weeks or two months, I don't know. I'm not saying I won't post anything during this time, just warning you that my writing is all over the place at the moment.

Thank you for your patience and support and don't worry, Liv will go back to live her vida loca. 💓

[fioreofthemarch]

breaking my temporary life focused tumblr hiatus to say god no please god no not a zelda live action film, im begging you nintendo, im on my HANDS and KNEES

[teriri-sayes]

TCF Temporary Hiatus

What: No chapter release today, September 1, 2023 (Friday) Why: Author caught COVID - 19 When Will It Resume: September 4, 2023 (Monday)

Translation of Author's Hiatus Notice:

Greetings, this is Yoo Ryeo Han. Just here to say that I'll be taking a break this Friday (September 1). I apologize. I've been holding out well without getting COVID-19 until now, but I ended up getting it this time. TT_TT It seems like COVID-19 made me more sick than I expected. I would like to express my sincere apologies once again for taking a hiatus. I wish everyone a healthy and peaceful summer end and autumn beginning. Then I'll see everyone next Monday (September 4). Thank you always.

Source: https://novel.munpia.com/113612/page/1/neSrl/5651298

[alicepao13]

S06E10

For a golf episode, okay. For a filler, also okay. Not that much going on.

Let's get one thing out of the way first:

Episode title says caddy. They liked that pun, I guess. As the grammar website I checked explains it further, it's not considered a huge error.

CityTV has such a nerve to put their logo in there after all their scheduling changes and general lack of interest for this show (I have no beef with that interview man, I forgot his name, but his interview with Diesel and John Reardon before the season premiere was actually fun).

I absolutely had no idea that women's golf was so lucrative.

"All I heard is sandwich" Thank god for Sarah. I only like Sarah from now on. Not even Rex, he seems too into golf, although there are too many balls involved for a dog to stay indifferent.

Joe joined the golf club when Camilla was born? Didn't he, like, adopt her after he married her mother? Or is my recollection false?

Charlie had worked as a caddie. Well, certainly some backstory there. And of course he's like, the best of them at it even if he doesn't want to join the club.

Seriously, we can't take them anywhere. Especially Rex, whose nose doesn't take a single day off. Boom, one more day off ruined.

I tuned out in every single golf talk, which is unfortunate because it was mixed with the plot (still found the culprit as soon as they appeared on screen). It's just really hard to follow when I don't care about it at all. Since I like almost all sports, I consider those I don't like as non-sports. Mainly golf and formula car racing.

They cut the chase scene? What?

That scene where Charlie drives a golf cart and Rex runs alongside him does not deserve a cool music lmao

Charlie playing golf as he's interviewing a (at the time) person of interest. I can't decide if this is unprofessional or I just don't like golf.

Ah, please someone tell me how many shots they did for that uninterrupted shot of Charlie's short putt that went pretty close to the hole. I know that the guys actually golf in real life but this had to be close but also not go in the hole for Rex to grab it.

Amazon! How the hell can you put an ad about fast delivery in this show, when you consistently fail to deliver the actual show on time in your streaming service? Am I the only one seeing the irony here? Last season it was too early, this season too late.

Also, Jesse, don't you dare wear that. Charlie's orange jumpsuit was actually a better shade of orange than this one.

Okay, maybe there were a bunch of chase scenes in this episode so they felt they could lose one. Acceptable.

Poor Rex's head. I'd have liked more of Charlie's worry please, although it seems like we might get this in a future episode.

This might be the first time we see Rex's teeth as Charlie checks for god knows what. Come on, show, let Rex bare his teeth just once while growling at a bad guy!

*gasps* Skeletal remains! On a family show!

They shouldn't have spoiled Jesse's shirt in the end scene on their promotional pictures. Not that it's such a big thing, but they should actually stop uploading promotional pictures from the final scenes altogether, or post them after the show has aired.

I liked the teamwork in this one. I believe the golf episode had been brewing since S2, where they had to scrap the idea due to a heavy snowfall, which turned the golf field into a ski slope. There is no avoiding golf, apparently!

Promo: What the actual fuck. Charlie and Rex combined whump? Charlie thrown out of a moving truck? Rex missing? Charlie having temporary amnesia? Hospital? Is it my birthday? (Well, it's actually pretty close to my name day instead.) Please squeeze a scene in there with a worried Sarah, and I take back every single bad thing I said about this season (the show only, I don't take back anything about CityTV). Yes, even the whales.

Of course this would be the episode that they'd take a break on. Oh, well. After that terrible hiatus, I can stand to wait a few days. A day had passed already as I was looking for the episode (turns out that they knew what they were doing lol).

[gremlincum]

Could you write a fluffy fic about joan jett where like the reader is upset and she comforts them?

Nyx's notes: I've been on a bit of a writing hiatus this past year due to some family and health issues, but I'm hoping to be coming back over the coming months, I was looking through requests and had inspiration strike so here you loveleys go!

Enjoy!

Crimson and clover -

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, cussing?, best friends to lovers because I'm a sucker for that trope, and fluff

You laid on your bathroom floor covered in sweat and beer. You didn't know why you put yourself in these situations, you hated hosting parties with a passion, yet you always let Joan convince you to throw the next biggest rager at your house.

You lived in a small two-bedroom house on the strip. It was falling apart in everyway possible, and probably couldn't pass inspection, but it was close to your job at the dennys on the corner and that's all that mattered.

Shortly after you moved in, you put an ad for a roommate in the paper, and the next day Joan called you. At first it was supposed to be temporary, but there was just something about Joanie that made you want to keep her around.

She made your stomach twist and turn in the best ways possible. Whenever she was around, you truly felt on top of the world, but you were most definitely not willing to lose an amazing friendship over some silly crush.

That brings us to our current scene. Hiding from the growing party in your bathroom, like a complete loser. A hard knock at the door made you lift your head and scoff.

"Go away"you grumbled, hoping the person on the other side would go away.

"Cmon (y/n)! I gotta piss!"Joan yelled. Of course. Speak of the fucking devil.

You pushed yourself up and tilted your head at the door. Debating if you should even open it.

"(Y/n) I know you're in there! Just let me in please", her voice was softer now, as if it twisted into one of concern.

You sighed and reached over to unlock the door. "Come in Joanie", she cautiously opened the door, afraid of what mess she found behind the door.

"Oh shit..."she snickered"you okay?" She reached her hand out for yours, completely ignoring what she originally came for.

"Yeah m'good Joanie"you muttered shamefully, ignoring her offer to help you up. You didn't want her to see you so vulnerable.

"Dont lie to me"she said, dropping to the floor looking at him. "We're friends, we need to be honest. We are with each other."

"Joanie, I can't keep doing these parties. can't a threesome happen in my room right now" you said, with a slight chuckle.

"And all these people make me nervous. They don't clean up after themselves, they break stuff, they ruin my sheets. I'm scared of even sitting on the couch."

"That's all you had to say" Joanie told you with a smile. "I don't ever wanna see you upset like this want."

"Y'know, you're a great person Joan"you told her with a big smile,

"I don't know about all that, I'm a mess"she scooted closer to him. "You're great though," she smiled with a slight blush going across her face.

It was impossible to ignore Joan's beauty. You saw through her "confident" facade and saw a beautifully damaged soul.

"I love you Joanie"you whispered, laying your head on her shoulder. She glanced over at him, her signature smirk plastered on her face.

"Yea?" She asked, giggling a bit."I love you too". She planted a kiss on her head.

You picked up your head, a blush evident on your face, and slowly leaned in interlocking lips with Joan. She leaned forward and cupped your face, stroking your cheek softly.

"Sorry"you murmured with a smile as you pulled away shyly.

It truly was a sight to behold, you two with your legs unintentionally intertwined on your bathroom floor as a party emerged outside the door.

But at this point you didn't care about the party, you just cared about you and Joan. And the undeniable tension between the two of you.

"Don't know why you're apologizing", she looked down. "I thought it was pretty obvious I wanted to do that for a while.

"I guess I was oblivious"you laughed, biting your lip before coming to the realization "Didn't you have to use the restroom?"

"Yeah"she replied, looking at you, leaning back."It can wait a little bit longer."

[stormblessed95]

Has your interest in BTS / jikook / Jimin / Jungkook declined since solo era has started? Have you noticed any trend like that in the fandom?

My tl gets unusually quiet nowadays which makes me wonder if everyone's kind of ia nowadays, or if twitter is just bugging out, or if it just means it's time to find new accounts to follow.

For me overall, I feel like the number of casual BTS fans has greatly increased and is still doing so despite their hiatus because of their solo works but I do feel like the core fandom that used to be so involved in organised fan events, voting, edits etc has actually shrunk recently. I'm also unsure if people are just on a temporary hiatus themselves as they're more invested in group activities only or if they've permanently left. People leaving is normal of course, but when the number who leave >> new people who join, that's a sign of the fandom weakening.

For me personally, I've just got a lot going on, so I'm not participating vocally in fandom spaces as much as I used to. I have a bookstagram account on insta that had quite a bit of a following that I haven't posted on in MONTHS. I just haven't had the time! Lol so it's not just tumblr/bts/jikook. I promise. I talked about what I've got going on briefly here:

So as for fandom trends in chapter 2, I haven't been keeping up with it unfortunately, so im probably not the best person to ask. I HAVE been keeping up with BTS, their debuts, their solos, their interviews, voting, etc. Just not so much with ARMY/what ARMY has been thinking outside my very carefully curated feed as much as I used to right now.

So has my interest in BTS/jikook faded? Not at all. Has my interest in WRITING about it on here faded? A bit. I had some not so great experiences on here this year that soured my joy of this hobby just a bit. As well as just how incredibly busy and exhausting my life is right now, its just not a priority for me and I'm leaning more into my fantasy escapism of books and fanfic more than I am writing in general and writing here about jikook at the moment. But I like to think that once my life chills out a bit more again, I will find more joy in this space again. And my interest hasn't gone away either, I still like being here and engaging with yall when I have the time and energy to do so!

I do think chapter 2 is bringing forth a fandom explosion in the way of solos and BTS doing more to insist on breaking the bubbles fans like to seem to put them in, but otherwise, idk what else to say. I don't think the fandom is weakening either. Jikook both just hit number 1 on billboard recently and all of BTS have been breaking records left snd right with their solo work! That's impressive stuff as always and the sign of a still very active and involved fanbase

[killacharacterbingo]

Prompt Master List

(Updated as prompts are added)

If any prompts don't make sense check this post: A prompt explained and A prompt explained II

Switching Places

Near-Death Experience

Drowning

Dumb Ways To Die

Blood Loss

Suicide

Your Worst Fear

Sacrifice

Sickness

Lightning

Fire

Hard Choices

Dead On Their Feet

Hero/Villain Swap

Torture

Crossover

Covid

Tomorrow Isn't Promised

Car Accident

Falling

Presumed Dead

Storm-Chasing

Canon Compliant

Never Meet Your Heroes

Stalker

Dictionary Death

Friendly Fire

13th Reasons Why

Musical Death

Survivor's Guilt

Conversation With Death

Collateral Damage

Test Subject

Pulling The Plug

Yandere

Betrayal

One Punch Can Kill

Medical Malpractice

The Blip

Cast It Into The Fire

"I Have The High Ground"

Deactivated

Once Bitten Twice Shy

Bleeding Blue

To Be Or Not To Be

Stabbing

Car Crash

Mugging Gone Wrong

Into The Woods

Death Of The Soul

Dormammu, I’ve Come To Bargain

The Cake Is A Lie

Even Heroes Die

With Great Power 

Sacrificed To The Gods

“Sometimes Death Is Better”

"I Finally Have Something To Leave Behind"

Natural Disaster

Mistaken Identity

Bucketlist 

Ten Years Later

Not So Secret Monologues

180 - The Character Doesn't Die

Final Destination

Raped To Death

Chronic Illness

Outed As A Spy

Bulletproof Vest

Sung To Sleep Forever 

A Soft Epilogue 

Wait For Me In Valhalla 

“I Was Saving My ten” - pain scale

“There’s A Boat Jack” 

Married Life Montage 

“You Have Your Mother’s Eyes” 

Russian Roulette

Guinea Pig

Defenestration

Karma’s A Bitch

Toxic Gas

Murder-Suicide

Famous last words

"Hey, i think we're going to be okay after all!"

"I'll always come back!"

In another's arms

Accident

Revenge

"You can rest now..."

A long time ago

Falls through the Ice

Asthma attack

Shock

Hypothermia

Pushed to the Limit

Commotio Cordis

Death row

Breaking the 4th wall

Wikihow to Die

Time loop

“If I can’t have you…”

Cardiovascular collapse

Allergic reaction

Erased from existence

Dead all along

Dying alone

Gunshot

Blood from the mouth

Patient zero

Old age

Overdose

Fatal Weakness

Assassinated

Infection

Suffocation

One moment stretched into a thousand

Origin story gone wrong

Area 51 raid

Trapped in a tiny space

Poison

Hanahaki / Hanakanjo / Hanauso

Tenshibyou

Kousekibyou

Shinshoubyou

Bouaishoukougun

Hoshinamidabyou

Death by ordinary illness

Hit and run

Starvation

Stroke

War

Cancer

Mercy Killing

Plane crash

Brain death

Fireworks

Death by seduction

Death bed confession

Organ Transplant

Their Legacy Is continued

Bound By Fate

Running out of time

Can’t breathe

Apocalypse

Shot down

Sepsis

Saving Throws – DnD

CPR

Self-harm

Smoke inhalation

Death by coconut

“Help me!”

Climbing accident

Blood-stained tiles

“You weren’t meant to be there”

“I love you”

“No… not like this”

Dug their own grave

Undead

Bees

The AO3 Curse

Deathly kiss

Going through hell

Meeting at the gates

Return from Hiatus

"watch out for the flying blades!"

5+1

Roofie

Left for dead

Strapped to a bomb

Hunger games

Zombification

Order 66

Aneurism

Executed

Lobotomy

Murder on the dance floor

Come to terms with death

“It’s okay”

Keeps dying

Letting go

Coma

Appendicitis

Neuromuscular blockade

Unfriendly pet

Explosion

Aftershock

Takotsubo cardiomyopathy

Faking their own death

Post traumatic amnesia

Schrödinger's paradox

Arbitrary hilarious death

Lack of Oxygen

High altitude

Diving deep

180 - the character becomes the killer

Angel of death

"You're going down with me!”

Never got to say goodbye

Graphic gore

Haunted

Calamity

The end of the world

Immortalized

Uploaded to the server

Reincarnated

Deleted

Sheep in wolves' clothing

Electrocuted

Adrenaline crash

911

Alternate universe ending

Radioactive

Acting on instinct

Collapses

“I miss you…”

Those left behind

Wind phone

Life support

Time Paradox

Temporary character death

Death during childbirth

PTSD

Cannibalism

Nightmares

Life flashing before your eyes

… Needs a hug

Headcanon

Returning home

Internal bleeding

Death of the universe

Empath

Relapse

Last person alive

“Sorry I have already tried and failed at it.”

“I told you so”

[namcohighfancomics]

TEMPORARY HIATUS

Hey, guys! Patch here with a very… awkward announcement.

I’m gonna be taking this screenwriting course for the next seven weeks, and it’s very much a seven-days-a-week thing. Real intensive stuff.

As a result, I won’t really have time to work on the latest story arc or answer any asks between now and then. I’ll try to keep you all updated on how the class is going, but other than that… ^^;

Don’t get any ideas, though. Like I said, I’ve been at this series for over a decade at this point, and I’m not gonna give up on it just yet. I’ll still be outlining future installments during the course, so that as soon as it’s done, I can get right back to dishing out wacky hijinks featuring Cousin and co. : )

Just consider this… an extended winter break.

That’s seven weeks long instead of two.

Know what they say, “absence makes the heart grow fonder!”

So until then, wish me luck on my latest creative endeavor, and be true to yourselves~

[deadn30n]

i think it's safe to say i'm putting this blog on a temporary hiatus for a lil while. maybe a month? idk but i've been super busy w/ other things and filling my time with stuff not related to rp. mostly focusing on my health and streaming && what have you

i think once i'm actually fully medicated and feeling a lil better, and have my health under better control i'll definitely be able to devote time back onto writing here, but for the moment i need to stay on break until i've gotten stuff sorted out

i'm not abandoning the blog i promise LFKSDJGHD just give me a lil more time and i'll be back in full force >:) ty for the patience ♥

as always u can reach me on dis/cord if u want me, it's literally just my url LOL deadn30n

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

Where I’ve been, and my plans moving forward.

Hey Tumblr (and hopefully my AO3 readers)…it’s been a minute. And I’m sorry for that, I really am. I wanted to pop on here and give y’all an explanation as to what’s been going on with me and where I’ve been…but for a writer, I’m surprisingly short on stuff to say. So I’m just going to start.

Where I’ve been

It’s been at least a month since I’ve posted (and over a year since I’ve updated my most popular series, The Raven House). And…yeah, I feel bad about that. The short version is, I completely changed my lifestyle. The long version is that I finished my semester of school at the end of May last year and just…didn’t go back. Initially, I decided to work full time for awhile to give myself some time to recover after a bad mental break. But I realized pretty quickly that I didn’t want it to be temporary. I have severe ADHD and anxiety, as well as some health issues that just overall made school miserable for me. At least right now, I’m much more fulfilled and happy with my work. I’m lucky enough to have gotten a good job (really good for someone my age) in an AMAZING work environment and I’m just much happier there.

So what does this have to do with my fics and my blog?

Well, two things. One- I have less time overall. To be honest, a LOT of my works were written while I was spacing out in class. With my job, I don’t have the time or really any reason to space out at my desk- and that really is a good thing! Because secondly, writing was as much a coping mechanism as it was a hobby. When I was posting and writing regularly, a lot of it was pure avoidance. I could stave off my stress by pretending I was being productive when I wrote a new chapter, and I could avoid paying attention to class by researching for my character’s outfits, you know? It made it easier. It was also (depressingly) one of the few places where I could get real positive feedback and praise, which I DESPERATELY needed, but never got (as I was admittedly a terrible student). So I did as much as possible in order to garner pretty much any positive attention. And I am grateful that in those times, I had writing to cope- but I’m also glad that I don’t have to rely on it as much anymore, because it ultimately wasn’t healthy.

Where does this leave me?

I don’t write all this to announce the closing of my account. I promise, this is not me saying goodbye. However, I’m going to be learning how to truly embrace writing as a hobby and how to fit it into my new lifestyle. With that, I’ll be trying to work on more of my original content, which I post separately. I'll also be adjusting my plans for some of my fics. Here’s the list of what I’m planning on going forward.

The Raven House

The Raven House is my most popular work and absolutely one of my favorites. It also takes AGES to write, especially with me having shifted hyper fixations. I won't be pausing or stopping work on it all, but it will continue to take ages. TL;DR: It's not going away, but it'll continue to take a long time and have a very uneven upload schedule. I hope y'all will understand and keep going.

Multimedia

This piece will be discontinued. Honestly, I just have no idea where to go with it and there's not much point in me keeping it going. I think it's a fun concept, but I don't really want to continue it at this time.

Insomnia

Similar to Multimedia, it's a fun concept, but I don't have any ideas or motivation to push forward with it.

Blank Space

This will stay as a one-shot for now. I originally wrote this with plans to have it as a three chapter story, but I'd rather focus my motivation on The Raven House.

Shades Of Lavender

For lack of a better word, I'm considering this piece to be on hiatus. I don't want to say goodbye to this piece or these characters by any means- however it's another that will continue to take AGES. I'll work on it on the side, but I won't be posting it for the foreseeable future.

Purgatory

I'm wrapping up the last pages of this fic! However I'm still deciding if I can really wrap this up with one more chapter.

That's...pretty much all I had to say. I feel like I'm forgetting something. I'll remember later.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to my readers who see this. I understand if you left, but I'm doubly grateful for the ones who stuck around <3

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God: Chapter 55

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Chapter Summary: She moves back in with Tony, Pepper and Happy at Avengers Compound. Her decision to prioritize her recovery over the man she loves weighs heavy on her shoulders, and now she has to push through. The question is just, will it help or will it further break her (and possibly Matt, too)?

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of addiction, mental illness, therapy, lots of crying, Eliza's POV

Word Count: 5.8k

A/n: And I am back! I am so sorry for the long ass hiatus and irregular updates, but I have really struggled with this series. It took me longer than usual to write this chapter, so the next ones will also be coming very irregularly until I've figured out how to make my vision come to life. I just wanted to set the scene for this new storyline with this chapter. There's going to be more plot in the future. I just had to start somewhere.

Read Chapter 55: Why am I like this? here on AO3!

The Avengers Compound had become a foreign place to her. She never thought she would move back to where it all began. The most defining years of her life held their roots in those four walls. 

When Eliza first stepped through the door, she contemplated whether or not she had made the right choice. Leaving Matt had left a gaping hole in her chest.

Things weren’t moving forward and she was losing herself. She couldn’t risk hurting him again the same way she had before. Her last relapse had to remain the last. Her heart was heavy, but sometimes, she remembered Natasha telling her, it is necessary to choose yourself. 

“Ah,” Tony greeted her with open arms when she arrived, “The prodigal daughter returns!”

Eliza rolled her eyes, but a soft, exhausted smile still found its way to her lips regardless. “Hey,” she greeted him back. 

Pepper stood next to him. She looked almost relieved to see her again, and unlike Tony, she didn’t care much about her personal space. Her arms wrapped around her, engulfing her in a bone-crushing hug.

“Welcome back,” her breath tickled her ear, her voice remaining barely above a whisper. “We missed you around here,” she said. 

She expected to hear that. Nothing was the same without you. That sentence alone felt too much like standard practice for her to take it seriously, but Eliza forced a smile nonetheless. Pepper never did anything wrong. She couldn’t help who she was, and she didn’t want her to change either. It offered a welcome distraction. 

It was only a temporary fix, she kept telling herself. A temporary solution to resolve a bigger problem. She had a disease and her own fair share of trauma, but it could be managed. She had to be open. She had to allow others to help her. And she had to put herself first for once in her life. 

Setting foot into her old room for the first time proved to be… strange, to say the least. She walked right into a wall of nostalgia. It twisted in her chest, wrapping its greedy claws around her heart and pulling—hard. 

The bed had been neatly made by someone who cared about her and her comfort, most probably Pepper. The clothes she had left before she moved out lay on the mattress. Neatly folded with a few of her favorite chocolates on top. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. 

She remembered all the tears she shed in that very bed. The times she had laughed with Natasha by her side, painting her nails and hoping, praying, that it would last. It didn’t. It was never meant to last. The family she’d once had broke apart and she found herself standing in the ashes of what once had been with bare feet and broken glass. 

Eliza's fingertips grazed the surface of the dresser, tracing over the faint marks she'd left behind—signs of a past that was simultaneously too distant and painfully recent. Tattoos of a life she had long left behind. 

She carried the reminders of her past on her skin every day, but skin isn’t the only organ capable of holding scars. A home can suffer and inflict scars the same way the human body does, it’s just never as obvious. 

Her eyes lingered on the framed photo of her friends—her family—their faces frozen in a moment when they believed they could conquer anything. They won once; back then, they believed if they could save New York City from an army of aliens, they could do anything. They could survive anything. Tony formed and shaped an amazing team of misfits who had never considered working together before. One day, one unfortunate event, and they became a family. 

Eliza hesitated before unfolding the pile of clothes. She ran her fingers over the familiar texture of the fabric. She didn’t remember the last time she consciously thought about what she was going to wear or what impression she would make on the people around her. It had been a while since she cared about anything other than surviving—a while since family had still somewhat mattered. 

It had all turned into a scrambled mess where priorities no longer remained straight.

The door creaked open. “Hey,” Happy poked his head in, “Need anything?” he asked. 

She wasn’t sure how to answer that. “Just… time,” she said, offering a small, appreciative smile. Happy nodded, but he didn’t move from his spot in the doorframe.

He took a deep breath. A beat of silence followed, and then, “In case I haven’t told you before, I’m really glad you’re here, kid.”

“Thank you.”

He had told her that before, but it didn’t hurt to hear it again.

“I know it wasn’t an easy choice to make, but I think… I think you made the right one. You deserve a break. And this place is your home. You’re always welcome here. We love you,” he said.

His words sounded distant. She could hear him, but she struggled to believe him. If she’d truly made the right choice, why was it hurting so much? It was her choice. She knew what she was getting herself into. Or maybe, just maybe, she didn’t.

This time, when she didn’t answer, Happy pushed himself off the door frame. He left her without another word. He told her everything he could, and she was well aware that there was nothing Happy wouldn’t do for her. Right now though, she needed peace. Nothing more. 

Once the door shut behind him, she inhaled a deep breath. 

Eliza had packed her bags with what little belonged to her. It wasn’t much. She left more of her heart behind than her belongings, and perhaps her scent that still lingered in the walls of Matt’s apartment.

While packing, she had made sure to sneak one of Matt’s shirts into her luggage. It smelled like him, and she needed something to remind her that he was still real. That he was still there, even if he wasn’t directly by her side. 

Being wise, making the right choice—being a human being with feelings proved to be so much harder than she expected. 

The need to make her guilt so much worse rose from the ashes of her tendency to self-destruct. That tendency was a phoenix, and it would never truly die, no matter how many times she set it on fire to get rid of it. There was no way out of the spiral except for her to play along with it. 

As she stared out of the windows of her room in the now-empty Avengers Compound, the tears relentlessly began to burn their way out of her eyes. 

She clung to the necklace around her neck, Matt’s initial on the puzzle piece that represented their love. She never took it off, not even to shower. She promised him as much when he gifted it to her. He was a part of her, and the necklace was proof of that. 

Her fingers traced the delicate Braille on the pendant. Thanks to him, she knew what it meant. She knew a few things now. She remembered the alphabet, but reading it was different. He had tried to teach her once, but she got distracted by his fingers stroking over the paper, and then they never continued. 

Thanks to Matt, the world started looking differently. She started viewing it differently. She no longer only relied on her sight but on the other four senses as well, sometimes even more than that. He taught her what it was like to laugh again, to smile, and to actually mean it. He made everything a little lighter. He made her forget. 

But, and she had to remind herself of that, forgetting isn’t dealing with the problem at hand, and she could no longer just forget. She had to work through her issues. Matt made life and the suffering linked to it a little easier, but she had taken the bliss that came with it for granted. The bliss of ignorance, so to speak. She ignored the warning signs, and she might have caused permanent damage to herself. 

There was no time, she kept telling herself. There was no time to focus on herself with everything going on around her. After meeting Matt, she found a piece of herself that had long gotten lost. She found the thrill in the chase again. In the process, she found herself and who she truly was. She found her past. She pushed through it. Perhaps she pushed a little too much.

Recovery is a process that the affected person needs to be okay with, something they need to want, but Eliza pushed it all aside in the hopes that Matt’s love would magically turn her okay, that it would turn her normal; she had been foolish to think that love could heal all her emotional wounds, and that just a little therapy that she way too often neglected could fix her, and now her foolishness was coming to bite her in the ass.

Leaving Matt behind though was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. 

It all happened so fast yet passed by in slow-motion. Only a few hours ago, she had still been in his arms. Now, she was alone. And the moment she stepped through the door of his apartment and left remained ingrained in her mind, probably forever. She wasn’t sure if she would ever not feel guilty about it. She shattered his heart. It had been so obvious even though he tried to hide it, and she blamed herself for doing it. The pain was eating her alive. 

Her eyes closed and the last minutes at Matt’s apartment replayed over and over again like a bad movie. 

Eliza woke up with him by her side, but that very feeling of relief washed over into emptiness. She was exhausted, tired beyond compare, while Matt’s chest had never felt more alive with the pain that seemed to burn through every muscle and every fiber of his being. He had to listen to her heavy breaths as she packed everything she kept in his apartment, and the sound alone made him want to scratch his eyes out. 

It tainted his heart and his mind. Hell seemed so close yet so far away. This had to be a cruel cycle concocted by God himself to make him suffer for all that he did because it wasn’t fair. The world wasn’t fair. 

Eliza dropped her bags on the dining table. The nagging feeling she harbored inside was a mixture of guilt and shame. She only hesitantly looked up to meet his eyes. She wished to be able to take back what she said or what they did the night before, but she couldn’t. 

They both knew that giving in for the sake of not being apart was no way to approach this. In the end, they were both masochists. 

He cleared his throat into the thick silence that hung over their heads, ready to bring the knife down on them. “Uh, did you pack your hairbrush?” Matt swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s just that… well, you always forget your hairbrush,” he said. 

She nodded. “First thing I packed.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah,” she said. 

He reached for the orange capsule on the fridge. “Don’t forget your pills.”

Their fingers brushed when Matt handed the medication to her. Electricity coursed through her veins. She took the capsule only to set it down and take his hand in hers. “I’m sorry,” was all Eliza could whisper back to him. 

“Stop apologizing,” he said. 

“I feel like I have to.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for.”

Matt tugged her closer, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. She squeezed his hand. He could feel her pulse drumming against his sensitive skin. 

“I love you,” he leaned down, his lips ghosting over her forehead, “and that won’t ever change.”

She leaned into the kiss. “I love you too.” 

He held her steady with his hand on the back of her head. The world didn’t have anything on her. She couldn’t deny that she was safest in his arms and that anything beyond that seemed impossible to master without him, but that was precisely the problem. 

She was dependent on him and by doing so, she forced him into a state of co-dependency because he felt responsible for her. He cared, sometimes too much. She couldn’t blame him. She had often enough posed a danger to herself in the past. Their relationship was anything but healthy. They kept continuously hurting each other. Eliza couldn’t do that to him anymore. Matt deserved a chance to heal just as much as she did, possibly even more. She wasn’t doing this to be selfish; she was doing it for him.

The ringing of the doorbell broke them apart, followed by a soft knock. With a heavy heart, Eliza grabbed her bags. Happy greeted them at the door. He looked happy, relieved almost. She was coming home, something he had never thought possible ever since she first moved out of the compound into her apartment. 

The second her name had popped up on Tony’s phone, they knew something was wrong. She had told them that she needed a place to stay, a support system, a chance to work through all that happened, rekindle old relationships, and simply get the therapy she needed in a secluded space that was far away from the mess she came out of. She couldn’t control everything at once, no matter how hard she tried. The chaos she used to control became a distraction. 

Tony saw it as an opportunity to fix their relationship in person, and Happy was simply happy that she chose to ask for help instead of running herself to the ground again. He couldn’t bear losing her. 

When he saw Matt’s pained expression though, he felt bad. He had become somewhat of a friend to him, someone he talked to from time to time, someone who loved Eliza even more dearly than anyone else in her life, it seemed, and Happy was endlessly grateful to him. 

But Eliza made her decision and she usually got what she wanted, even though this time her decision was a plausible one and the people around her had never been more willing to get her what she wanted. 

Happy took the bags from her. He took a few steps back, leaving the couple room to say goodbye. It was the least he could do. 

Standing in the doorway, Eliza took Matt’s hand again. His grip grew impossibly tight. He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his chest. There was a hickey on her throat that pulsated from the night before. He had marked her up well enough to last for a few days, but it was only a small victory that felt less like something positive now than something he dreaded. 

The blood rushed under her skin. Her heart thudded relentlessly against her ribs. The hesitation in her eyes was evident even to him, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her back into the apartment and lock the door. 

“I’ll come back,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She tried to convince them both, it seemed. “I promise, I’ll come back.”

He sniffled, pressing his forehead against hers. He breathed her in. She showered with his body wash again, and even washed her hair with his shampoo. The clothes were undoubtedly hers, but the scents that mixed on her skin with the memory of the intimacy of the night before overwhelmed him. 

“You have to let me go, Matt.”

“I know,” he choked out, “I just don’t want to.”

She caught one of his tears with her finger. “I’m gonna miss you.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”

“I wish things weren’t as fucked up as they are so I could stay, but I can’t…”

“I know,” he shushed her. “I know, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’m not blaming you.”

Eliza swallowed the sob that lay on her tongue. She stood on her tiptoes and captured his lips in a bruising kiss. 

She pulled away after a moment. As she caught her breath, she looked into his teary eyes with tears of her own. “You have to let me go, Matt,” Eliza repeated. 

His head dropped into the crook of her neck. Matt made a sound of disapproval. 

The sniffle didn’t go unnoticed, and he smelled the salt in the air. “Please, baby,” she said again. “Don’t make it harder than it already is.”

Her words fell on deaf ears. Ears that were overwhelmed along with his other senses. Matt was tied to the stake and being burned alive. At least that was how it felt to him. Letting her go, his mind told him, was a death sentence to everything he had grown to hold so dear. He was afraid of losing her.

The sob rolling off of Matt’s lips got muffled through the fabric of her shirt. 

“Let me go,” she stroked a hand through his hair, trying to pull him back, “Please.”

His grip tightened around her waist. “I can’t,” he said. 

“You have to,” she repeated. “You have to let me go, Matthew.” Her voice grew more stern, even though the softness remained. She tried her hardest not to let the tears win.

Matt continued hiding his face in her neck. He wasn’t sure what he expected his pathetic attempt to stop her from leaving would bring him, but there was something about her warmth that made him feel like he couldn’t live without it, so he could not, for the life of him, let her go. It was impossible. 

He was paralyzed, his fingers stiff as they dug into her hips through the shirt she was wearing. Her heart heaved with sobs and he wanted nothing more than to make her feel better. He could fix her, he just needed her to stay. The thought kept rolling like a defective movie tape, and it drove him further into the river of insanity. Or, it felt like insanity, anyway. 

He couldn’t fix her. There was nothing to fix, only to heal, and he wasn’t strong enough for the both of them. He was broken too, and that was no place for her to get better. He would drive her into doing things she wasn’t stable enough for over and over again, and then he would lose her. Permanently.

She pressed her lips against his ear. “I’m gonna be okay, I promise. We’re gonna be okay, but I have to go. You know I have to go. So please, let me go. Just let me go.”

The pleading tone of her voice gave him the last push and he fell off the cliff to his certain death. He pulled away, his hands still resting on her waist, but he wasn’t holding onto her anymore. 

Eliza reached out to wipe his tears. “I love you, Matthew,” she breathed. 

“Yeah,” he sniffled, “I love you too.”

She chose not to say much more. Their hands remained entwined until she was too far away for their arms to keep up, and then their connection faded away. 

Her heartbeat disappeared into the distance. She took his heart with her, leaving him with a gaping hole in his chest, but the pain was nothing compared to the weight of the world on his shoulders. She left and as the door closed, his colorful world soon turned to gray. 

Eliza threw one last look over her shoulder, then got into the car. Happy asked her if she was okay, but she waved him off. “Just drive,” she said. 

And he drove away. 

Eliza sniffled. The memory was like a fresh wound that kept reopening every time she as much as thought about him. The tears cascaded down her cheeks with no intention of stopping. 

She slid the pendant back into the cleavage of her shirt, making sure it would stay hidden from curious eyes. “No,” she whispered to herself. It hurt too much to think even more about it. 

She needed hope. Hope kept her going. Even if it was slowly dying, it gave her a purpose. It gave her something to look forward to—something worth fighting for. Matt was worth fighting for. She left him when he needed her the most, so now she had to get better to take that role back as soon as she could. The way she had been before, she was of no use to him or Daredevil. 

Daredevil needed his Angel, after all, but she was in no shape to be her alter ego right now. Loss of control, in her case, could prove fatal. She wasn’t going to risk that either.

The agreement she made with Tony for her recovery was clear. She would move back into the compound, she would work for him, and let him keep her occupied, and she had to go to therapy two times a week for two full hours at the compound with Mrs. Darcy. 

Eliza wasn’t allowed to leave the premises without an escort. It brought her back to her first relapse all those years ago after she had gotten clean. This time, she only came terrifyingly close, but that was enough to require drastic measures. She was unstable, that much was true. She brought this isolation upon herself by agreeing to forego inpatient treatment for someplace that felt a little more like home. 

She was starting to regret that decision now. 

No contact with Matt, no vigilante duties, and besides the occasional training sessions, she wasn’t allowed to use her powers in any capacity to protect both herself and the people around her until she was more in control of her mind again. 

Her fingers itched, but Eliza knew she was in no place to do anything with it without seriously putting the people around her at risk. While her mental health deteriorated, her powers grew stronger, which made them unpredictable. She used what little common sense she had left to justify the decisions and make it easier—to no avail. 

She thought back to when Stephen Strange tried to lock her away in his castle to control what she was born with. He hadn’t come back since, but she didn’t trust the peace. He let her go. For someone so afraid of what she could do, he was awfully quiet now. At least at the compound, she was safe. No one other than Matt and Foggy needed to know about the encounter. 

Her mind felt scrambled with all the different thoughts and memories that started to come back up in the quiet of her old room. The nostalgia threatened to suffocate her. She agreed to a treatment plan that was almost the same as if she had taken herself to the psych ward; somehow the familiar space turned into a noose in the few hours she had already been there, and Eliza slowly began to worry about whether or not she had made the right decision by upending her life and coming here. 

How was she supposed to stay away from the man she loved? How was she supposed to go without a phone call or a text now that her electronic devices had been sophisticated? And how was she supposed to learn how to live a normal life if she found herself secluded from that life? She knew that she needed control to stay sober, but it didn’t seem fair that everyone agreed to keep her away from civilization on her own until two weeks had passed, at least. 

But she was in a bad place, she could admit that. And people in a bad place don’t always know what is best for them. 

Looking down at her shaking fingers, she balled them into a fist. Her lips pursed. The cravings didn’t stop with a change of scenery. They didn’t even fully go away with sex. They were relentless little bastards.

She went to Josie’s that night, and she didn’t take the drink she ordered because she remembered what she promised when she first went clean weeks ago, but she was so close—too close. And the cravings remained. They were there and they were painfully prominent.

She could still feel Viktor’s blood on her skin. She could hear the shots in the back of her head. She could feel the air leaving her lungs, the panic attack, and the sirens of the ambulance as she was taken away. She almost got justice for what had been done to her and so many other little girls and the Punisher took that opportunity away from her. 

Viktor had deserved to suffer. In the end, he died, and death was too kind for a man like him. 

Part of Eliza wondered if her powers could turn back time. Stephen Strange had the time stone. She felt connected to it, most likely because of her blood, but maybe she could manipulate reality in a way that would bring Viktor back and finally allow her to do what she had wanted to do all along. 

She couldn’t go there. She couldn’t allow herself to lose control after admitting that she needed help to regain the very control she had lost before. She was losing herself, and it was starting to catch up with her. It made her bitter. It made her dangerous. 

Eliza found herself at a crossroads with no sense of direction. Not anymore. 

“You’re shaking,” Mrs. Darcy observed. 

Almost a full day had passed since she arrived back home, and she had already lost all track of time. This appointment with Mrs. Darcy felt like torture of the highest order.

She felt so alone, so isolated, so misunderstood—all because the one person who knew her better than anyone in this world wasn’t around. 

“I know you’ve been through a lot. And this decision surely wasn’t easy. Leaving the man you love, coming back here, deciding to focus on you,” she said. “I mean, for someone who’s been through hell and back without ever actively asking for help yourself, this was a brave first step toward full recovery. But I also know why you did it.”

Eliza’s nostrils flared as she took a deep breath in. Her lungs felt so heavy. Every muscle in her body was straining against nothing at all. She didn’t want to see it because withdrawal happens after a relapse and she hadn’t relapsed, but this was as close to withdrawal as it could get. She felt humiliated by her own body, which, in turn, made her mind turn on herself. 

Mrs. Darcy sighed, scuffling her notes around. She was just about to say something when Eliza opened her dry lips to speak. 

“I was ready to throw it all away for that one shot of tequila,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because… because I felt so stuck. I feel… I am stuck. Nothing was going the way I wanted it to. I couldn’t find answers. I couldn’t… I couldn’t find the person that took my chance at getting justice and now… I made it impossible for myself ‘cause I’m stuck here. I… I’m just so stuck.”

Her arms wrapped around her legs and she hugged them tight to her chest. 

Mrs. Darcy nodded, putting her notebook aside for a moment. “Are you having cravings right now?” she asked. “For drugs? For a drink?”

In response, she only shrugged, but her shaky hands were already a big indication of the truth. “I wanted to feel nothing, even if just for a moment,” Eliza admitted. “I guess I still do. A bit.”

“I take that as a yes.”

“So what if I am?” That came out snappier than she intended. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I just…”

She was having a hard time adjusting to a life she had been so used to before. A life that wasn’t a life but a mere existence. All of her life, she had been on the run, and now that she was stuck, it somehow still felt like it, with the only difference being that she was running in one place now with nowhere else to go. And that was significantly worse than being on the run from her past. 

Facing it meant pain, and she hated what it did to her. She hated this godforsaken mess that she had become. Would it ever end in anything other than a disaster?

Mrs. Darcy silently reached into her bag. She was always so understanding. She didn’t judge, she simply took her word for it and tried to help while still being honest. 

Eliza watched as her therapist pulled out a small package she knew all too well, and she placed it before her on the conference table. Sunlight fell on it. She met her eyes. 

“What’s this?” she asked.

“A little something to help with the cravings,” said Mrs. Darcy. 

“Revia?”

She nodded. “Revia.”

Naltrexone.

Eliza's eyes lingered on the small package. “Revia,” she repeated. She knew it was a tool, a means to an end. The internal conflict raged on, and at that moment, the wariness in her eyes spoke volumes.

Mrs. Darcy slid the package closer. “Now, it’s not a cure. You know that as well as I do. It's an addition to your support system. And it will take some of the strain off your body that your mind is putting on you.”

She traced the outline of the medication with trembling fingers. “I know that,” she whispered. 

“I know we’ve been down this road before, but since you want to get better now…” Mrs. Darcy gave her a supportive smile. “I think we’re on a good path here, and a little help can’t hurt. I need you present if you want to do this. I need you alive.”

She had a choice: to confront the demons within or succumb to the numbing embrace of substances. The weight of that decision weighed heavily on her shoulders.

“I’m not weak,” Eliza whispered again, more to herself than to the woman before her. 

She wasn’t weak. The words repeated like a mantra in the screen of her brain. 

“No one said you were,” Mrs. Darcy answered. “Strength lies in acknowledging your vulnerabilities. I told you that before.”

After a moment of silence, Eliza took a deep breath. She hesitantly reached for the package. It was a silent agreement. She didn’t have the words to say it out loud. 

A bitter chuckle passed her lips. “I feel like I'm running in circles,” she said.

“You’re breaking unhealthy patterns that became your survival instinct. No one said that doing this over and over again would be easy, but eventually, you will heal. Trauma is cruel, addiction is cruel, and your circumstances pose a whole ‘nother obstacle we’ve found ourselves faced with time and time again. No one is pressuring you into doing this other than yourself; that is what it takes.” Mrs. Darcy finished by filling her a glass of water. “Now, take your pills,” she told her. “We will go from there.”

Eliza sighed. “You’re very bossy, you know that, right?”

“It’s my job.”

“Is that why you never gave up on me? Or is it the money?”

“Believe it or not, I like you, Eliza,” Mrs. Darcy said. “It’s that easy. You deserve to have someone take a chance on you. Or two. Or how many more you might need.”

The words felt like a thousand needles drilling through her skin into her most sensitive nerves. Her head ached a little at the prospect of this woman wanting to help her simply because she believed in her. Tony paid her good money. It was easier to blame it on that than think, just for a moment, that she was worth it. Worth taking a chance on. Worth more than what she told herself she was. 

Matt loved her and he cared, but his feelings made him feel obligated to be there for her. Mrs. Darcy had no personal connection to her and yet, she stuck around for years. It was a lot to wrap her head around. 

A tear slid down her cheek. Eliza furiously wiped it away, angry at herself for letting this get to her. “I…” Her mind was in shambles. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Just accept it,” the woman said. 

She made it sound so simple, but accepting love and care and not turning it into unwanted pity was hard for her. She never trusted peace, she never trusted love because, in the past, it had always been bound to conditions. Who was to say that it wasn’t the case with the people in her life now?

She was overthinking. Her body burned brighter than the sun. This feeling of vulnerability kept eating her alive. Almost as if in a rush, Eliza reached for the package. She tried to take it slow, but her hands shook in the process of getting the pills out. She took one, not more, and popped it into her mouth. She downed it with the glass of water Mrs. Darcy offered her. 

Part of her imagined that it was Oxy she was taking and that the shaking would go away as soon as this flesh-eating pain in her soul went away, but she knew better. Revia tricks the body, not the mind. 

Mrs. Darcy’s smile turned triumphant. She picked her notebook back up, clicking the pen a few times. “Are you ready to talk now?” she asked. “Really talk?”

Eliza opened her mouth to object, but she quickly changed the course of her thinking. She let out a heavy sigh. “What do you wanna know?” she retorted. 

“How about everything?”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

She wasn’t sure if she liked what that insinuated, considering she had shared her life story with her before, but Eliza had no choice. 

If Mrs. Darcy wanted to know everything, she had to tell her everything. There was no more use in lying now, anyway. Her soul lay open, bleeding out. That was her only way to survive. And she promised Matt to fight, so she would fight. For him. 

For herself.

But mostly for him. 

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