#the only reason i haven't tried drugs at this point is because i've never been around people who were actively doing them

[wild-at-mind]

I wonder if there's a correlation between lack of self image/comfortableness in being yourself, and being someone who had to watch a lot of how people were behaving socially and imitate it in order to slightly cope with school etc growing up?

[sassy-stupid]

Sky High

Pairing

partydrugdealer!Sero x f!reader

18+ only please

Smut

Word count

3.1k

Content warnings

drugs (mostly weed but theres a mention of unnamed party drugs), dubcon (reader is under influence of drugs (weed)), fingering, oral (f receiving), vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampies

Everyone is this fic is 18+

Summary

You've never done drugs before and none other slimefest's very own dealer offers to show you the ropes.

This is my entry to the slimeball summer collab! I got the prompt "festivals"!! I'm super excited about this since it's my first collab but I'm also very nervous haha. @bastardblvd

"C'mon! It'll be fun!" Your friend's voice was loud and yet you could barely hear it over the murmur of the crowd.

You and your little group of friends had gotten to the first annual edition of slimetown's very own slimeball summerfest early. The original reasoning had been to get a nice place to pitch the tent. The "new and improved" reasoning, according to your friends, was to buy party drugs before their regular dealer started running low.

You'd assumed that was because the price would go up at that point but festival drug dealing wasn't exactly your area of expertise.

"Fine, but you guys gotta watch me okay? I don't want to be the person waking up in a hospital without any memories of their so called 'fun time'," you conceded, letting yourself be pulled along to a neat looking tent.

"This is the drug tent?" you voice your doubt as one of your friends tries to knock on the tent entrance.

She scoffs at you. "Yes it is, why don't you shout it out a little louder. I'm not sure every security guard here heard," she sneers and you hope the drugs will put her into a better mood. "See this?" your other friend taps on the "s" taped on the tent door. "That's our guy's business card."

You snort, the guy didn't even use ductape and the flimsy cellophane tape was already peeling off the tent fabric before the festival had even properly started. Before you can point any of that out to your friends though, the little zipper opens and out comes a lanky looking man who seems about the same age as you.

"As much as I appreciate my clientele ladies, can you either keep it down or come in?" he speaks, moving aside and gesturing you into his tent. The grin on his face friendly and inviting.

You attempt to follow your friends through the small opening but he stops you once you're in front of him. "Haven't seen your face before," he says, and you admit to yourself that his attention on you isn't unwelcome. He's attractive, lean muscles, tan skin and the sluttiest little waist you'd ever seen.

"Yeah, this is not usually my scene, I'm just here for them." You gesture towards your friends as you try to follow them once more. He lets you this time, the inviting grin having slipped into more of an amused smirk.

"I knew it, would've recognized a face like yours," he speaks. Both your friends shoot you looks, one distinctly more annoyed than the other. "And don't you worry. My customer's comfort is of utmost importance to me, I'll help you enjoy yourself." He shoots you a wink and your face heats up, your mind can't help but wander to the possible implications of his words.

"Sero, we didn't come here for you to flirt with (y/n)," your annoyed friend spoke up. She was waving around some cash and the man in front of you took the bait.

"Always so impatient," he says, getting up to rummage through his wares "I've got some new stuff you two may like, wouldn't recommend it for your friend though." He pulls out a bag with what, out of context, would've looked just like candy. Your friend hands him the wad of cash.

"Pleasure doing business with you two, as always, now why don't you two wait outside for a second while I'll teach your friend here the ropes," he requests, you're about to protest but he continues before you can, "awfully crowded in this little tent."

You beg your friends to stay through facial expressions but the fuckers just up and leave, your favourite of the two quickly adding on that they'll wait for you outside.

"So, how much of a first timer are you really?" You know he's talking about drugs but the way he suggestively wiggles his eyebrows implies something else and you realize he's teasing you. Your eyebrows furrow and you're about to give him a piece of your mind when he bursts out laughing. "Sorry, sorry. I always like to joke around to get the edge off a little," he explains. "Though, I have other stuff for that as well." He pulls out a bag of something, it's clearly not the same stuff he just sold your friends but you had no clue what it could be.

He inspects the look on your face and whistles. "Damn, that much of a first timer huh? No worries, I'll talk you through it all" his voice was incredibly smooth and it brought the heat back to your face, you hope he mistakes it for embarrassment.

"Do you always flirt this much? Is that why my friend was shooting me nasty looks?" you ask, trying to deflect. It only causes him to laugh more.

"It's a sales tactic I'm familiar with," he says shooting you another wink. "And not much of a friend, that one. If she's that upset over a flirty comment from her dealer? I can't even imagine the level of jealousy."

"But, you didn't enter my little paradise here to gossip. Let me let you in on how things work around here," he starts, and he does. He tells you all about the drug he's about to sell you, some type of weed called wedding cake? You liked the name if anything. How much it'll cost you and how to smoke it, even offers to show you.

"Can't have my cute little customer bumbling about, not even knowing how to use the stuff I sold her," he explains, nodding in approval as you hold the freshly rolled blunt. "Now let's light it up and I'll show you exactly how to do it." He moves real close to you now, and true to his word he teaches you. The proximity flusters you beyond belief and you think whatever you're smoking right now isn't exactly keeping you clear headed either. You catch yourself looking at his lips more than once and you might not realize it but he catches you too, it makes him chuckle.

"All right, that's enough for now, trust me on that," he tells you. Somewhere deep down you're happy he's doing all of this for you though, makes you giggle. His hand ruffles your hair in response and he speaks again, "let's get you back out to your friends, unless you wanna keep me company?" You're not sure if it's an actual offer or a joke but you laugh either way, already turning towards the exit to find your friends.

You leave the tent to find no one waiting for you, except for a small piece of paper stuck to Sero's tape on the tent entrance. "Hot guy, be back later. Stay safe," it read. Tears well in your eyes. They promised they'd look after you, that's why you agreed to all this in the first place. Now you were all alone, high off your ass, on festival grounds in what is known as the sleaziest town around.

"Aw, come now baby, don't cry." Sero's voice startles you out of your little moment, you'd forgotten he was right behind you. "I'd never leave a cute little customer like you in need," he promises, though you're not entirely sure what the promise entails. He gestures for you to follow him.

Maybe the weed is clouding your mind but you do find yourself following the relative stranger without further questioning, though luckily he comes out with an answer to the question in your mind.

"I'm taking you to my private tent, it's roomier," he explains, his arm around the small of your back now. You lean into it, his warmth feeling nice against your skin.

The crowd had grown since you guys had entered the tent and now there were people everywhere, you were starting to get anxious despite the high you were experiencing. Luckily for you, your ever vigilant dealer noticed.

"Baby, I'm here. You're okay," he says as his thumb strokes your cheek. You think about how normally you'd never let anyone this close but everything about him is just so nice and warm. You lean into his touch entirely and a deep chuckle escapes him. "Want me to really take care of you?" He asks, eyes flitting down to your lips and back up. Yours do the same, except you struggle to pull them back up. You nod nonetheless and he's on you instantly.

You'd kissed plenty of people before but Sero felt different, you wanted to consider that it might be the weed but all you could think of right now was him. The way his lips molded to yours. The way one of his hands dragged up your back and into your hair while the other moved down towards your ass. The way his tongue slipped past your lips and played with yours.

You couldn't suppress the moan that leaves you and and he groans. "Oh aren't you just the cutest, come on, we aren't far." He's pulling you along again before you can complain and you find yourself staring at his ass as he pulls you through a final part of the crowd.

You reach his tent, it does look bigger than the one you just came from but it's placed right in between a few more tents and there's people everywhere. In a moment of clarity you ask him, "but won't people hear?"

The laugh it pulls out of him is attractive but does nothing to ease your worry, and his words certainly don't either. "Sweetness, trust me, that is gonna be the last thing on your mind in a couple of minutes." As he speaks his guiding hand on your lower back slips slightly lower again but you can't find it in you to worry about it anymore, in fact it all feels kind of fun.

So instead you giggle.

The inside of sero's tent is nice, you didn't peg him as the type of guy to decorate his festival tent but apparently business has been good for him. You fawn at one of the cute pillows adorning his mattress. It was a bright yellow and you nearly squealed in excitement as you felt how fuzzy the outside of it was.

"You liking the place?" He asked, the hand that was guiding you from the small of your back had moved to you shoulder and was now pushing you to sit on his mattress. You turn around to face him, looking up at him from your place near the ground  and nod enthusiastically. "Good, I pride myself on my sense for interior design."

He's sinking down next to you on the mattress and only now do you realize it's an air mattress, his weight propping the side you're sitting on up. You stop yourself from giggling once more.

"C'mere pretty girl, I know you're just itching to get touched." His voice dropped into a seductive tone and you notice he's right, ever since he'd kissed you you'd wanted more.

You're nodding along as he reaches out to your face, pulling you into another kiss that feels like the centre of your universe. Though that universe expands the second Sero's hand slips into your pants.

Every place he'd touched you had felt hot so far but the sensation of his hand on your pussy nearly drove you wild.

"S-sero," you managed between frantic kissing. In response he just hummed, not letting your lips stray far as his fingers started playing with you.

"What is it pretty girl? Enjoying yourself? I knew you'd look even prettier like this," he says, his hand picking up speed. Your hands are clutching both his hair and his shirt, he's making you feel like you're floating and you're desperately holding on to something.

"Sero I can't-" you interrupt yourself with a moan, you can't keep yourself quiet. His touch feels divine, silencing yourself would be blasphemy and yet his unoccupied hand hands you the same pillow you'd been admiring before.

"Bite it princess, you wouldn't want everyone to hear now would you?" His words feel like they're meant to tease you but right now, you'd agree with anything he told you. And so you bite down, the fabric feels weird between your teeth. As you do so, he picks up the pace, fingers dancing around inside you as if they're as desperate to please as you are.

And please they do, in Sero's eyes you're practically begging him to let you cum. He's never been one to deny a pretty girl.

Before you know it your pants are off and you underwear is pushed to the side. You hardly even registered him moving you onto your back. You certainly did register his breath on your cunt though.

His tongue made quick work of sucking on your clit and his fingers never did light up on the pace from before so you're screaming into the pillow as you cum on his face in no time at all.

His fingers keep thrusting as he speaks into your pussy, "oh yeah baby, give me all of it." Though he lets up as soon as you start whining in overstimulation.

He chuckles as you start fumbling around with the buttons on his pants. Even though you just came you had to feel if his cock could send you into outer space as well. "Damn (y/n), you want it that bad, huh? Maybe I let you smoke too much," he says, petting your hair as you finally get his pants off. Your hands are teasing his rock hard dick through his boxers. Once both of you manage to get out of the last of your clothes, you lean down attempting to return the favor. He stops you, "Baby, no, I'm taking care of you, remember?" He explains, urging you to lay down on your stomach.

He props a different pillow from the one you're holding up under your hips. Facing away from him is a double edged sword, you couldn't see him, but every touch he laid on you was felt tenfold. You shiver as he drags a finger up you spine, other hand firmly holding your hips in place.

"You ready for this pretty girl? Remember your surprise tool for keeping quiet." He's referring to the pillow but all though leaves your mind as soon as the thick head of his cock drags through your folds. You bite down on the pillow and hug it to your chest tightly. 

He holds his cock up to your entrance and he finally pushes in. He moans quietly as he slips all the way into you, the sound would drive you mad if the feeling of him filling you entirely hadn't already. You'd had sex before but just as your kiss with Sero had been different, this was too.

He's only just pushed in and you already felt on the verge of climax. "Damn baby, you liking it that much? You're like a fucking vice," he tells you, both his hands coming up to your hips, pushing you down into the mattress so he could fuck into you.

You're making what you hope are small noises of approval and he seems to take it as a sign to really start fucking you, or taking care of you as he'd call it.

You hadn't been wrong, his cock was taking you to outer space if the stars you were seeing were any indication. You don't know how long he's pushing into you like that but you do know that before long he's pumping his cum into you with a deep groan, but not quite stopping before he feels you cum all over his dick again.

"See? Took real good care of you right?" He praises himself as he gets up. You're about to whine about him leaving when he comes back with a couple of napkins. "Sorry about this pretty girl, but I wasn't exactly prepared for this today," he apologizes. "I'd have at least brought wet wipes." He cleans you up as good as he can and the next hour or so is spent cuddling and snacking on whatever Sero puts into your hands. Before you know it you're dozing off.

You blink the sleep out of your eyes as you roll around on the air mattress, hands finding paper instead of a warm body next to you. You groggily get up, patting the bed until you found the note again.

Sleep leaves you quickly when you see the money taped to the note. You snort at what you read.

"Dear (y/n), my favorite customer.

Pussy too good to charge. Gotta go back to my small business now, keep the pillow you liked so much as a reminder.

And whenever you want more than just a reminder, call me.

xxx-xxx-xx"

You snort again at his antics before pulling yourself together and climbing out of his tent. You'd decided that it was for the best if you went back to your own tent for the night. Hopefully you'd find your friends there too.

You weaved through the crowd effortlessly now that you'd slept off whatever that stuff did to you. The walk over was giving you time to consider your night. It wasn't like you'd had a bad time, you bite your lip remembering it, quite the opposite actually. The only part that bothered you was the way you'd been ditched by your friends and left with a guy whose clear intent was to fuck you.

Your friends have quite something to make up to you, is the conclusion you come to as your arrive at your shared tent. You hear the commotion before you can even enter.

"How was I supposed to know that was THE slimetown freeloader?" your annoying friend called out. She had her hands buried in her face and she looked like she'd been crying.

"How about you just don't let random men BLINDFOLD you in our tent next time? That way they can't run off with our pillows!" Your other friend replied, obviously pissed off at the loss of the fluffy item.

The two of you take a bit to notice you but they gawk the second they see you hug the furry yellow pillow closer to your chest. "Where'd you get that pillow?" The question sounds more like an accusation coming from the pillowless girls but you're the one with a reason to be upset here so you just shrug and say, "Sero gave it to me, along with a refund and his number."

[idontreallyknow26]

I'm gonna get hate for this, but when do I not yk

I forgot to add this is mostly towards show stans lol so this may not make sense if you haven't seen some of their arguments

You cannot say that Rhaenys was the rightful heir to the throne while also believing Rhaenyra was the rightful heir to the throne.

In both situations, Kings chose successors in the way they wanted. Viserys chose Rhaenyra as his heir, and Jaehaerys left it up to the lords. They made their choices.

I also see the argument a lot on TikTok that the king's word is the last word- then why do you not apply it? Jaehaerys allowed the lords to decide, and they decided against Rhaenys. That was his word.

So, which do you believe? Was Rhaenys the heir or Rhaenyra?

And just to be clear, Rhaenyra wasn't the rightful heir for a number of reasons.

1- Viserys' stupidity. In Westeros, according to Andal law of succession, the Eldest son inherits, and then down to the youngest. Then, Eldest daughter to the youngest. So, because Aemma died, having only one child (Rhaenyra) THAT made Rhaenyra the rightful heir. Daemon was only considered if Rhaenyra had been too young, or dead. Viserys simply took the extra step of confirming this. But Viserys CHOOSING (A king cannot be bullied into remarrying- he's a fucking king.) To remarry to Alicent overruled that. When he remarried the sole point of it (Not really, his only point was to fuck a 14-year-old while he could still fuck) was to produce more heirs, which they did. Putting Aegon ii above Rhaenyra in the order of succession, as well as Aemond and Daeron. But Viserys never formally acknowledged this, he was very white democrat about it and just ignored it best he could. He only ever truly made a comment about it in the safety of his castle.

2- Rhaenyra committed high treason multiple times. She had three bastards, as well as tried to put them on not only the Driftwood throne but the iron throne. She lied to the king and queen countless times about it and allowed her bastard to permanently mutilate and disable the son of the king with no consequences- she even asked that the son of the king be tortured further. (The bastards were never legitimized; to legitimize a bastard you must first admit they are one, which never happened. And even if they had been they would not be legitimized as Velaryons, but Strongs. Meaning their only true claim was to harrenhal.) She and her husband also accused the queen and hand of sedating the king with drugs to rule in his place.

So no. Neither of them was the rightful heir and it most definitely wasn't their birthright. I don't like any of the Valyrians, they're all white nazi trash and deserved to have their dragons killed. So don't go telling me I like a rapist. That argument is stupid and ignorant anyway, the number of times I've seen survivors told they like rapists is disgusting- as a survivor maybe, possibly, idk, THINK ABOUT WHO YOU'RE TELLING THIS BULLSHIT TO. And you can't tell people they like Aegon ii/they're rape apologists without applying that logic to yourself. You like Daemon the pedophile rapist. You like Rhaenyra the racist misogynist (Don't deny it, she's the Caitlyn Jenner of women), and you like Mysaria who wanted to sell Alicent and Helaena to brothels and watch as they were raped and impregnated (Which Rhaenyra agreed to). So shut the fuck up.

[heavensbeehall]

"Mockingjay", Chapter 16

Part 2: The Assault

Chapter 16: Katniss comes back to consciousness (again!) after being shot and remembers the "Stay with me"/"Always" exchange with Peeta from the second book. Johanna Mason--what a queen--shows up to steal some drugs from Katniss. Johanna is addicted to "morphling" now, but in a fun way. Katniss and Gale fight about killing people but District 2 is now in Rebellion hands. Even though she lost a spleen, Katniss is made to return to work. Plutarch talks about "Panem et Circenses" for all the English teachers in the audience. Annie and Finnick are getting married! Katniss is stunned when the cake is wheeled out and it was obviously made by Peeta, who has been getting better after his first breakthrough. At midnight she goes to talk to him (and I have questions about why the staff at 13 is all around at midnight but they are not addressed. Perhaps they wanted a good Hanging Tree reference for this uncomfortable encounter). Peeta is pissy which I will allow since she was tortured for weeks. He sees Katniss through a new lens. She thinks it's "the truth" because she hates herself and is depressed and clearly needs medication--not to the responsibility of a rebellion. But it's more like he sees her through Snow's eyes now. (That women are not to be trusted and love makes you weak.)

Thoughts:

-- This book depresses me a bit and my own mental health hasn't been great lately. I should remind myself there is more Johanna. Because I really do like the part where they are roommates.

-- When Johanna calls Gale "gorgeous" and then laughs, it makes me think she is messing with him the way she did with Katniss in book 2. But I don't know if she is messing with Katniss or Gale, actually.

Quotes:

"You should have been the Mockingjay. No one would've had to feed you lines," I say. "True. But no one likes me," she tells me.

Given that Suzanne Collins has said they have tried to use previous victors (she particularly cited Finnick) as a rallying point for rebellion, I wonder if she says this from experience. The way Johanna won--by pretending for the camers--is actually quite smart. She used the game against the Gamemakers. Her "act" would be mostly in things we know Snow added to the Hunger Games--the interviews, the betting odds etc. If they had just thrown her into an arena, like 1-10th, then this would not be possible to do. Nor do I think crying or being sad to fight to the death is abnormal. We have seen Lamina (also a female tribute from 7) portrayed as somewhat weak during her Games but be mentally tough. I imagine it was easy to dismiss Johanna. But then when she won, it seems (as with many reality shows) she was not lauded for her cleverness but instead portrayed as a liar and a bitch.

Does anyone have strong headcanons about Johanna? For some reason, I assume she had siblings that were killed. Possibly because of how she interacts with Katniss and Finnick, like she is used to having someone close to her who is her age. But that person or persons is gone now.

Somehow staging some perverse wedding between Peeta and me. I haven't been able to face that one-way glass since I've been back and, at my own request, only get updates about Peeta's condition from Haymitch. He speaks very little about it. Different techniques are being tried. There will never truly be a way to cure him.And now they want me to marry Peeta for a propo?

I read a fanfic about this once. Anyway, you will note that Katniss instinctively assumes Plutarch will use her the same way Snow did which doesn't reassure me much about Plutarch's vibes.

... the music is provided by a choir of children accompanied by the lone fiddler who made it out of 12 with his instrument...

We think this is Clerk Carmine's fiddle, yes? I don't know where you would buy a new instrument in 12.

Sure enough, Greasy Sae grabs Gale by the hand and pulls him into the center of the floor and faces off with him

Get it, Greasy Sae! (I do not necessarily hold to the theory that Lucy Gray is Greasy Sae, but I do think--since she sells her wares at the Hob and has been around awhile, she would probably know the most about the Covey. I'd love to interview her for my fictional documentary about the history of the Hunger Games.)

"I must have loved you a lot."

I would like to think that Peeta need not be "in love" with Katniss to give her some bread. It's very "Snow-like" to assume that he would only do that if he was in love with her, and the love was like tricking him into something (which I think is how he comes to see everything he did for Lucy Gray, as some grand manipulation) when it's just normal to not like seeing someone else suffer.

[singofsolace]

I’m curious what you think about Rebecca’s storyline in the Ted Lasso finale. I felt they resolved her story with Rupert decently enough but the stuff with Ted and Boat Guy just felt off. I’d love to know your thoughts.

I think there were a lot of scenarios I would've been okay with for the end of Rebecca's storyline, and yet, the one they landed on was so outside of what I wanted or expected, I couldn't help but be shocked.

Like you, I thought her storyline was resolved with Rupert well enough (though I would've liked to have seen how, exactly, Rebecca helped Bex and Rupert's former assistant decide what to do? like, obviously, they decided to divorce and sue him respectively, but I still would've liked to have seen how Rebecca helped get them there, and what, precisely, they needed to ask her, since I'm sure they were already halfway to those decisions without Rebecca's help).

As for Dutch Boat Guy, I've been pretty vocal about how Rebecca's storyline in the Amsterdam episode made me incredibly nervous and upset. There were so many other ways they could've written Rebecca having an unexpected romance in Amsterdam without putting her in such a dangerous situation? And people have tried to tell me that Ted Lasso would never do a sexual assault storyline, to which I would argue... ummm.... a show doesn't have to be SVU to "go there"? Keeley's nudes got leaked, Jamie revealed his dad orchestrated the losing of his virginity in Amsterdam when he was still a child, etc. They literally made multiple jokes over the course of the episode that highlighted the fact that Rebecca was completely at the mercy of this Dutch stranger on his boat, with no way to call for help, and nowhere really to run, should things go badly. They made jokes that called attention to the fact that this man could very easily harm or even kill her, and so I spent the whole episode terrified about what could happen, and thinking there's no way most women wouldn't be hearing alarm bells the moment they looked at a cup of tea that said "it's not drugged (I promise)."

But putting aside the Amsterdam episode and how uncomfortable it made me, I still just don't think that from a story arc perspective for the lead female character that it makes sense to make her "endgame" relationship with a character whose name we don't even know. We got no build up to that being Rebecca's happy ending. We spent the whole season being misdirected with fake-outs and psychic predictions, looking for signs that would eventually lead us to her "lightning." Where was the lightning with Boat Guy? Did I miss it? And where was the green matchbook for him? What was the point of the psychic reading if it was only meant to misdirect us? I think Rebecca as a character deserved a lot better than a relationship with a stranger that was rushed to its conclusion in the last fifteen minutes.

As for Ted's ending, that was the most surprising and disappointing to me of all. I didn't need him to be with Rebecca (really, I didn't. I've been prepared since the beginning for Tedbecca never to happen), I just needed him to be happy and surrounded by his chosen family. So why did Jason play Ted as if he was deep in the depths of a depression? Why did he show practically no emotion the whole episode? Why did they decide his "happy ending" should be coaching little league soccer, when Rebecca literally offered him a solution where he would be able to stay in England and bring both Henry and Michelle to London to live a good life? I just don't understand why Ted didn't even consider that as an option??? Like having Rebecca say "you've already made your decision, haven't you?" keeps us from ever hearing or understanding what Ted's reasons were, and as an audience member, that really upsets me. And don't even get me started on Ted not attending Beard's wedding! (A wedding I never wanted to see in the first place, and honestly makes me sick to my stomach, because why set up the idea that multiple people are aware that the relationship is toxic and abusive, only for Beard to end up with her in the end?)

Anyway, those are probably more thoughts than you wanted, but there you are!

[let-them-read-fics]

Blackpink Reaction To Their S/O Struggling W/ Drug Addiction

Warnings / Misc. -- ⚠️ Sensitive Topic ⚠️, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! This request covers a sensitive topic that I haven't been personally exposed to, but I hope that I do it justice. I did my best to handle it with care and be as realistic as possible. Let me know what you think!

PS -- I didn't specifically name any substances or describe them in too much detail; I wanted to leave you room to picture whatever you had in mind, especially if you happen to be struggling irl.

👩 Also, I wrote this as Fem!Reader because nothing was specified. I hope that's alright, anon! Thank you for your patience :)

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jisoo

Discovered it after a few weeks of dating

She's amazing at reading people, so she had sensed that you were struggling with something; she just didn't know what. 

She wanted to wait for you to tell her about whatever it was, but one fateful day she witnessed something that explained it all. 

It wasn't meant to happen; she wasn't meant to see you like this. But, as fate would have it, Jisoo stumbled across something she never saw coming. 

Her footsteps grow louder as she walks her way through the house, peeking her head into various rooms in search of you. The two of you invited some of your mutual friends over, and they've all been curious as to where you slipped away to earlier.

"Baby, are you in here? Everyone's wonder--" 

The sound of the latch clicking out of place makes your heart drop and sets you into motion. Before you have enough time to fully react, though, Jisoo opens the bathroom door to find you sitting on the ground, attempting to shove a foreign substance into a plastic baggy. 

Your hands make quick work of moving it out of view and sitting up on your knees, but she picks up on what's going on. Her eyes land on the material as you shift it behind your body, looking up at her with wide eyes. 

"Jisoo--" Tears are already beginning to work their way into your eyes, slightly blurring your vision. Too many people have walked out on you after witnessing this, and the thought that she might go too is overwhelming. 

She keeps her tone level as she steps into the room and quietly shuts the door behind herself. "Y/N, please explain yourself." 

"I-I'm sorry Jisoo, I should've told you sooner." You shakily say, bringing a hand up to swipe away the few tears that've already leaked out. It's not usually like you to get so emotional so quickly, but seeing the pained look on her face is reason enough. 

"Come here," she utters, plopping down next to you and pulling you up against her body as she leans back on the side of the tub. Her fingers rub soothing circles on your back while you rest your head on her shoulder, lightly dampening the material of her shirt with your tears. "I'm not mad at you for this, but I need you to tell me about it. I want to help you, my love. I can't watch you hurt yourself like this." 

"Okay. Just promise you won't go," you softly say, the syllables of your words breaking here and there from the raw emotion you feel. 

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N." She presses a light kiss to your temple for reassurance, and her heart breaks when she feels your hands grip at her clothes out of habit. How many times have people told you that and still left you in your time of need? She cradles you in her arms, realizing just how fragile you are in your current state, and tells you to take your time. 

With a steadying breath, you begin to explain your struggles. 

Road To Recovery

Constant check-ins

"Hey honey, we're at the studio now. Are you taking care of yourself for me?"

Helps you deal with the symptoms of withdrawal when they hit

Focuses on distraction and redirection as ways to help you cope

If you're at a party and feel tempted after seeing someone use, she leads you away to distract you from the urge

Helps you find safe alternatives 

Celebrates the little victories

"Yes, Y/N, 4 and a half weeks clean is plenty reason to celebrate. Now mark it on the calendar and get over here so I can put this hat on you." 

Playdates at your local dog café to keep your mind occupied (and bringing Dalgomie so he can make new friends, of course)

Takes you indoor skydiving. She wanted to find a way to give you an adrenaline rush while still being able to participate with you, so that was a happy medium. She battled her fear of heights to do that with you.

Not letting you lose hope if you relapse

"You're not a burden, and I'm not letting you give up on yourself. Not after all the progress you've made. I believe in you." 

Accompanying you to rehab and recovery meetings, if you want her to

Bringing you your favorite snacks and candies when she picks you up

"I got you a little something," she smiles, leaning over the center console of the car to kiss your cheek. "You deserve a treat, baby." 

Whenever you decide to tell everyone about your struggles and recovery journey, she's right next to you for support 

Spends all the time she can with you

Early on, she would get really worried when you missed her calls or took a while to respond, but eventually she got over her fears to some degree

Still checks up on you when she's away for work

"Sorry for missing your call, Chu. Dalgom tried to kill me when I was giving him a bath and I couldn't get to the phone in time." 

Overall, just a very proud girlfriend who sticks by you no matter what

After You've Recovered

Annual "recovery party" to commemorate your sobriety 

Sometimes you invite the girls and your other friends, and sometimes you prefer to just spend the day at home with Jisoo

"Look at how far you've come, my love. I'm so proud of you."

♡♡♡♡♡

Jennie

She would be the only one who figured it out on her own. She picked up on the signs fairly quickly and always subtly helped steer you away from any potentially tempting situations

If you two watched a movie that happened to have a triggering scene in it, she always noticed how you'd look away and subconsciously tense up a bit

"Hey, babe. This movie's kinda boring; why don't we watch that new Netflix documentary instead?" 

If the two of you were invited to parties that were likely to have a bunch of alcohol and drugs, sometimes she'd try to suggest staying in or doing something else instead

You eventually caught on to her diversion attempts, and sat down with her to have a talk. 

"How long have you known?" You ask, pulling your legs up towards your chest as you sit back against the headboard of your California King. 

"A few weeks," she starts, running a brush through her hair until it's untangled. Her damp locks stick to her shoulders as she approaches you, some strips slightly drier than others. "Were you ever gonna tell me?" She inquires softly, facing you as she sits down beside you on the bed. 

"Of course, Jen. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, I just… I was on my own with it before you. I didn't have anyone to turn to because everyone left once they found out." Your confession makes her chest ache -- it's a physical, honest pain that she feels as she imagines you battling such an unforgiving foe with no one in your corner. She places a warm hand on your thigh to comfort you, knowing just how much her touch helps when you're upset. "Hey, it's okay. There's no point in worrying about that now. I know it's hard to open up, babe, so thank you for doing this. I'm here to listen, alright?"

"Thank you, Jennie. I don't know what I'd do without you." 

"You'll never have to know, either, because I'm staying right here." 

"I love you," you whisper, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips. 

"I love you, too," she sighs against you, preparing herself for the emotional night you're about to have. For now, she takes a moment to just pull you into her arms and rest her forehead against yours, finding comfort in your steady heartbeat. 

"We'll start whenever you're ready." 

Road To Recovery

Makes various arrangements to ensure that the media won't know of your struggles

Keeps things on lock, especially if you decide to remain private on the matter and not tell the world

If you make a public statement about it, she still does everything she can to keep you protected from the negativity. She knows first hand how tough it can be to deal with, so she never lets you face it alone

You both help each other work through things

"You're my rock, Y/N/N." 

"And you're my world, Jen."

Takes care of you during bouts of withdrawal 

Sings to you to calm you down and help you relax

Takes you to theme parks and rides all the big coasters with you so you can get a similar high that you did from the drugs. She gets to be clingy with you and spend the day having fun, so she doesn't mind it, and you enjoy it just the same.

Suggests fun activities for you to do together 

"We should visit that pottery place tomorrow! I've heard a lot of good things about it." 

You stick close together when you're in public, especially when paparazzi are near

Your presence helps with her anxiety, and you hold her close and tell jokes to keep her attention off of it

Random surprise celebrations waiting for you when you get home

"Hey Jen, I'm home." You announce, shrugging your coat off before hanging it up on the metal rack next to the front door. 

"In here," she calls from the kitchen, effectively pulling you in with that sweet voice of hers. When you reach the doorway and peek in, a dumbstruck smile slowly parts your lips as you see the set up she constructed. 

"Happy 3 Weeks" a multicolored banner reads, displaying the phrase above your dining room table where Jennie sits. "Surprise, honey," she says softly, glancing down at the cake she made for you as she scoots it closer. You approach the table and examine it, practically feeling your heart grow 10 sizes from the love you hold for your girlfriend. 

"Is this why you left practice early?" 

"Mhm," she nods, kissing your cheek before she reaches into a small gift bag next to her chair. "I'm so proud of you," she grins, sliding a thin, glittery headband into your hair. It has two springs attached to the top that bounce in every direction possible, surely making you look like a dork. 

"God, I love you." 

"You'd better keep that same energy after trying the cake. I think I might've added too much baking soda…"

You shake your head and pull her in, pressing kiss after kiss to her lips until she's grinning just as hard as you. 

Going on adventures with Kuma and Kai

Especially to dog parks and other national parks 

Helps you fill things out for rehab and doesn't let you get too stressed about it

Helps you regain confidence in yourself if you relapse

"This isn't the end, Y/N. You're strong, I know you can beat this."

Is right next to you through it all

After You've Recovered

Go on an annual vacation to get away from everything and celebrate your sobriety. You take the opportunity to escape the media and reconnect with each other

"Where to this year, Y/N? Bora Bora, maybe?"

Intimate celebration between the two of you on vacation, and then the girls throw you a party when you come back

♡♡♡♡♡

Rosé

You were really good at hiding your secret from people -- especially those that you care about most. You're always afraid that once they find out, they'll pack up and leave. 

Rosé was one of the first to actually stay

She had been fairly oblivious to your struggles since you masked that side of yourself well, but one day the two of you attended a little get-together at your old friend's house, and your dirty laundry was aired.

"Bro, come on, let's play Truth or Dare!" One of your old friends says, perking up at the fact that he remembered the game even existed. He's already a little tipsy, but so are some of the others. 

"I don't know, dude," you hesitantly start, missing the way that Rosé curiously raises a brow beside you. 

"Come on, we'll keep it tame." Another person adds from the couch opposite you, their voice low. You recognize her as Cho, a sort of frenemy from your high school years. Something doesn't sit right for you with the hint of mischief that shines in her eyes, but your friends' pleas eventually push the feeling away and you relent. 

"Fine, but if Austin gets dared to do some dumb shit like last time I'm dropping out." 

"Like what?" 

"Like what?" You ask back, disbelief evident in your voice. "Are you forgetting the fact that I had to bail you out after you got arrested for streaking down the neighborhood?" 

"Okay, fair point," Austin holds his hands up in surrender. "Just a few rounds." 

--

As everyone's once boisterous laughter finally dies down into quiet chuckles, you turn to Rosé for a quick kiss. She reciprocates and holds you there for a few more seconds, loving the way your lips feel against her own. As you brush your nose against hers and garner a sweet giggle from her, Cho interrupts the moment with a phrase that makes your blood run cold. 

"So, Rosé, has Y/N told you about the time she got arrested for drug possession? Word on the street is that she still can't shake her old habit..." 

Rosie feels the way you tense up at the question and pull away from her, cringing at the exposure you just received. The room goes silent, enabling a pen to be heard if it were dropped. 

"Hey," Austin goes to defend you, about to yell at her for bringing up such a difficult topic. 

"It's fine, Austin," you say, sticking your hand out in front of him to keep him from approaching her. The last thing you want right now is a screaming match about your struggles. 

Rosie finally speaks up after what feels like an eternity, turning to Cho to say, "No, but that's none of your business. And I strongly advise that you don't speak on her name like that again." She cuts her eyes at the other girl, sending an icy glare at her to show that she's serious before giving her attention to you again. 

When a few tense moments pass with no one really saying anything, Jackson, the host, speaks up. "I think you need to go, Cho." 

"Ah, what a shame. The fun was just starting," she mockingly pouts, stopping next to you on her way out the door. Rosé strokes the back of your hand to soothe you, tracing mindless patterns with her thumb until your shoulders relax and you look into her eyes. With Cho now gone, your friends decide to go out into the backyard and give the two of you some time to clear things up. 

"So, I guess we should talk." You start, pulling your legs up onto the couch to sit criss-cross. She studies the way that you begin to nervously fidget and drop eye contact, and the sight breaks her heart. 

"Your past is your past, Y/N, and I won't ever judge you for it. I wish she wouldn't have brought it up like that -- I really wish she didn't," she says, emphasizing the word to remind you of how upset she is with Cho, "But I can tell that you're still struggling. I want to help you get better, and I'll be here with you every step of the way, babe. You mean the world to me." She smiles sadly, trying not to think of how much it would hurt to lose you. 

"Okay," you breathe out, accepting the honest help that she's extending to you. You've been burned and lied to in the past, but you trust Rosé to stay true to her word and assist you on the hard journey laid out before you. "Let's start from the beginning," you say, preparing yourself to retell your struggles from the moment they began all those years ago. 

Road To Recovery

Takes care of you when withdrawal hits hard

Isn't afraid to take the day off if it's bad enough and she needs to

"Hey, Teddy. Tell everyone that I'll be staying home today, okay? I've already let the girls know, too." 

Reassurance to the max

"You're doing amazing."

Is your shoulder to cry on when times get tough

On a weekend trip, the two of you snuck away to the beach to go cliff diving. It was a thrilling experience, and you'll always remember that day with her

Helps you find healthier alternatives to your addiction that can make the transition easier until you fully recover

"Baby, look at this." She says, repositioning her laptop so that you can see what she's looking at. The two of you are sitting on the bed, and her legs are stretched out over yours. "These herbs are safe to smoke and they can help with a lot of your troubles. These over here," she says, pointing to a section of the screen, "help with stress and anxiety. They make it easier to relax." You nod, logging the information in your brain as you run a hand over her smooth skin to keep yourself calm. It's a habit that both of you love. "Thank you, Rosie. Nobody's ever done anything like this for me." You say, keeping your head down as you remember all the people that have left you behind in your time of need. 

"You'd do the same for me, and I'm happy to be here for you." She declares, holding one of your hands within both of her own. She cradles it delicately, just like she does your heart. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel my love. I'm not going anywhere, babe." She leans in, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. 

Keeps your spirits up if you relapse

"You're not a failure, Y/N/N. This is just a setback, and we're going to get through it together."

One of her friends told her about a fun art class that's supposed to help people in recovery let go of some of their resentment and negative feelings, so she brought it up and you agreed to go

It was structured in two parts:

Part 1: Everyone went out to an old car lot that had various old vehicles, electronics, and other things to smash up. Once you let loose and relieved some of your tension, you collected scraps of the things you destroyed.

Part 2: With the scraps you brought back, you were told to create any type of artwork you wanted -- whatever felt right. Collage, graffiti, scrapbook, etc. At the end of the class, you were informed of the driving message behind it: Though the negative feelings and aversions you dealt with in the past may have left you feeling broken, you never really were -- you've always had the power to piece yourself back together and continue on.

After You've Recovered

Taking a month off work every year to travel and experience new things together. Usually consists of going to another city (or even country) and exploring their art museums and other artistics outlets 

The new experiences help remind you off all the reasons you want to stay sober, and they help her have new material for her songs

Lots of pictures and drawings to remember all of your adventures

Collect trinkets to hang up / display, especially around the holidays

The girls have a special celebration waiting for you when you return

♡♡♡♡♡

Lisa

She could tell something was wrong when your behavior started to change over the course of a couple weeks

She suspected other things, but after finding a substance in your bag while on a vacation trip, she was blind sided by the reality of the situation

"Hey Lis, have you seen my swimsuit?" You casually ask, strolling into your hotel bedroom in search of the item. "I thought I left it--"

Your words catch harshly in your throat, nearly making you choke from how quickly you cut yourself off. She's sitting on the edge of the bed with the baggy in her hands, and tears brim in her eyes. 

"Fuck," you wince, closing your eyes as you put your face in your hands. "You weren't supposed to find out like this."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asks, staring straight ahead, though her eyes don't focus on anything in particular. Knowing you hurt her is bad enough, but seeing her like this makes the pain even more evident. 

"I was going to, I promise. But I've been trying to wean myself off of it," you begin to explain, slowly walking across the room until you're in front of her. You squat down and put your hands on her thighs, staying quiet until she meets your gaze. "I've tried to quit cold turkey in the past but it didn't go down well. I figured I could handle this on my own and not get you involved."

"Baby, I want to be involved. You've been different lately, and having you shut me out didn't help ease my fears. I want to be a part of this, okay? You can turn to me when you feel alone," she says through the occasional tears that roll down her cheeks, "It's my job to help you and keep you safe. So let me," she crouches down next to you as she says the last part, wrapping her arms around you when she notices your lip tremble. "I'm not gonna let this get between us," she says against your shoulder, reminding you of how strong her love for you is. 

"I'm sorry I waited so long," your words are muffled against her shirt, but she can hear how the emotion in them changes your voice slightly. 

"We have to start somewhere, and this is just as good a time as any. I'm right here, Y/N/N."

Road To Recovery

Sweet texts and reminders throughout the day

"Hey baby, have you eaten today? The girls and I miss you like crazy." 

--

"Don't forget about your check-up tomorrow. I already told my manager that I'll be taking the day off, so I'm all yours 😉"

--

"*image attachment* Question: Do you think Lego would look cute in this or do you think Lego would look cute in this? Because he WOULD." 

Stargazing trips to talk about how far you've come

Making treats for the cats together if you have a bad day

Sometimes your withdrawal leaves you with weird cravings, but she never hesitates to race to the store at any hour and snatch up your favorite treats

Learning how to cook together to keep you occupied and give you a hobby (plus she's always wanted to get better at it)

“If you fling that at me, I swear to God I'll--”

"Oops!"

"LISA!" 

Day trips to random parks and open locations to have little photoshoots when she has free days

Once took you bungee jumping for the experience and adrenaline rush

Bringing you into the studio if you're having a hard time and don't want to be alone

Always listens to you and shows how much she cares

Opts out of events if she suspects that drugs will be there to tempt you (considering you're always her plus one)

You still send her to enjoy herself at the events without you sometimes, though it does take a lot to convince her to leave you at home

"Okay, okay! But we're binging that new show when I get back." 

Makes you laugh often and cheers you up when you need it most

She's your sunshine

After You've Recovered

Considering that you're her muse and she's the artist that she is, she hatched a plan early on to document your journey to recovery

"One more, babe. Just like that." She instructs, holding the camera up to her eye one final time. "Perfect." 

"Alright, close your eyes and turn around." She commands while returning to the coffee table that sits in the middle of your living room. Her hands make quick work of putting the finishing touches on her gift for you while you patiently sway and hum to whatever song is stuck in your head at the moment. 

"Annnnnd done!" She shouts, approaching you with a wide smile tugging at her lips as she holds the book out in front of herself. "It's a photo album. I started it the day you told me you wanted to try and get better," she says, smiling softly as she slowly walks you through the beginning pages of the book. "I thought it would be nice to see how far you've come," her eyes remain glued to the pictures she took as she continues flipping, and she fails to realize that you're staring at her now. 

"I'm so in love with you. I can't thank you enough, Lis. This is beautiful." You shake your head in quiet disbelief, genuinely surprised that someone would work so hard on something for you. It shouldn't be a surprise with her though, considering how much she loves you, but it still baffles you sometimes. 

"This gift only shows a fraction of my love for you, but I'm happy you like it. This is nothing, baby; there's so much more where this came from. Thank you for letting me in." She captures your lips in a meaningful kiss, and finds it hard to pull away. You seem to be her drug of choice, but neither of you care to end that sweet addiction.

Annual trips to photoshoots and fashion shows

Being her favorite model (seriously, she could look at you for hours on end)

Always feeling so loved and cherished, no matter what the two of you are doing

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-One

Sorry it's late, I ended up accidentally drugging myself when I got in from work last. I had a migraine and my mom gave me one her of Amitriptyline and I didn't realize it was going to knock me the fuck out for 12 fucking hours. I woke up earlier today and was so confused, work clothes still on, makeup still on, but my migraine went away so I guess it worked.

I told you guys a cut a part out (I'm saving it for another chapter) part of it was the preview for this chapter with the flashback of when Nikki came home after Viv and Duff were being nasty in his bed...anyway enjoy the chapter!

Words: 4k

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, mentions of drug abuse

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"What?" I ask Fred, taking a few deep breaths and he raises his brows. 

"They just got here today, Viv, there's no way in hell that kid's biting the hand that's feeding him, over you, without there being a damn good reason." He states and I sigh, only causing him to nod his head. "That's what I thought. Does Sixx know?"

My eyes widen as I glare at him as if he's crazy. 

"Is Nikki acting like he knows?" I sarcastically say and Fred crosses his arms. "No." I add, deciding now is not the time for sarcasm. "No, Nikki doesn't know...I mean, we haven't been seeing each other, really. We've only hooked up one time." I try to reason.

"When?"

"When we went on break in September for a few days." I explain, fumbling with my fingers. 

"What, you got a hotel room or something?" He presses and I apparently give away what happened because his eyes are going to the size of saucers and he's raising his eyebrows. 

"Fred," I start.

"You fucked another man in Sixx's house?" He asks me in shock that I had the audacity to do such a thing. 

"He slept with Vanity in our house, so why not?" 

"Yes, because the way to put a fire out is to start a completely different fire!" He raises his voice. 

"Shh!" I put my hand over his mouth. "If anyone finds out about this, I'm done with, and so is Guns N' Roses." I hiss at him. 

"Highly doubt Duff's waking up after a night of plowing you like a field, thinking about his career, or else he wouldn't be sleeping with you in the first place." Fred says back quietly. "And you, what the fuck are you doing? Are you insane? If you get caught you're done for." 

"I know." 

"Then why're you letting it happen?" 

"I don't know, alright? I just…" I let out a breath and think for a moment. 

"Do you like, love him or something?"

"No, of course not." I insist. "Well, I love him, but not like in love with him." 

"Do you love Nikki?" 

"It doesn't matter if I do or not. We're over with once the tour is done." 

"You've both completely annihilated your vows, Vivian, I think it's safe to say you two have been over." He replies and I don't answer, ignoring that realization. 

I continued to ignore that realization until Nikki served me divorce papers once he got out of the hospital after he overdosed.

I try to hold back a laugh as Donna politely rejects Steven for the umpteenth time since he met her, and he pouts at me as she walks away.

“Viv, I’m going crazy.” He tells me. “I’m losing the charm, I think.”

“Oh, c’mon, Stevie, you aren’t losing the charm. Donna’s just a hard nut to crack because she and Emi have been put on a ‘don’t sleep with the opening band’ order.” I suggest and he maintains his let down facial expression. “And Emi and Mick are already a thing and catch hell for it, so Donna’s more than likely not wanting to be in the same predicament.”

“This is so unfair.” He crosses his arms.

“Just hook up with groupies.” I shrug.

“I’m trying but they’re all leftovers from what Tommy, Vince and Nikk--” He abruptly stops speaking and I raise my brows.

“What was that?” I ask him.

“Nothing…” He mumbles.

“I already thought Nikki was hooking up with groupies, but thank you for confirming it.”

“Well,” He starts, glancing around to make sure the coast is clear before he’s pointing out, “you’re hooking up with someone else, too, so does it matter?”

He’s got a valid point and I raise my brows, deciding I can’t argue with that.

“No.” I say quietly. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

The guys are getting off stage soon enough, being brought back down from hyperventilation before starting in for tonight’s plans.

“Strip club.” Tommy and Vince say simultaneously.

“Stevie, you comin’ with?” Tommy offers  and Steven glances at me as if asking for permission although I honestly don’t care if he hangs out with them or not.

I’m just waiting for Duff to finish up his conversation with Axl and Izzy in their dressing room.

“Mick, you wanna come?” Tommy asks next, resulting in Mick glancing at Emi.

She shakes her head a little bit, barely noticeable. Barely.

Nikki lets out a shiteating laugh and I prepare for what’s about to happen.

“Nikki, lay off--”

“--Tommy, you shouldn’t have asked. You know Mick can’t take his mouth away from Emi’s teat long enough to make his own big boy decisions.” Vince and Tommy laugh at Nikki’s words, while Mick just lets out a heavy sigh and looks down at the ground not wanting to argue.

“Okay, Nikki, seriously, stop.” I state, glaring at him.

“Okay, Vivian, seriously, mind your own fucking business and stop being such a--”

“--Hey, everybody shut it.” Fred pops his head in, hearing an argument about to start. “Guns is riding back to the hotel with us, their ride has a flat.” He adds.

"Whoo!" Steven cheers, high-fiving Tommy.

I slip past Fred to see Axl and Duff waiting for us to get ready to go.

"Where's Slash?" I ask them, furrowing my brows a little. 

He's soon enough stumbling from the bathroom, wiping vomit from his mouth, causing me to wrinkle my nose as he mutters, "I'm right here." 

Slash was Nikki's trouble-buddy on the tour. They'd stay at the hotel bar until it closed nearly every night before hitting the town. Most of the time Tommy and Steven would tag along or split and go do something else of their own. 

Axl never really bonded with the guys as much as Izzy, Duff, Slash, and Stevie did, but everyone got along and considered each other good friends. 

Crazy how things would take a turn a couple years later.

We all wait patiently to file into the bus one by one and, of course, Vince and Tommy have girls with them while Nikki seems satisfied by just having a conversation with Slash and Izzy.

I catch myself looking for Tansy and Sparkie...until I remember they left to go score. 

All is well until Mick says something to Emi and she giggles like a school girl with a crush, and I can see Nikki's face getting red with anger as she's about to step ahead of Mick onto the bus. 

Nikki's plucking Slash's Jack bottle from his hand and pours the whiskey down Emi's jacket. 

She gasps, stopping in her tracks, horror on her face as she turns around to face him. 

"Nikki, what the hell is wrong with you?!" I demand. 

"Oops." Nikki slickly smirks, handing the now empty bottle back to Slash, who--like everyone else--is at a loss for words as Nikki cuts in line and gets on the bus before Emi can recover. 

I look at Duff, trying not to get overwhelmed with anger. 

He shrugs his jacket off, preparing to offer it to Emi so she doesn't have to wear her wet jacket. 

"Here, you can borrow mine." He tells her and she looks at him a second, tears in her eyes as Tommy, Vince, and their groupies walk around her to get inside. 

"Thanks." She mumbles, taking her wet jacket off and slipping on Duff's warm, dry one. 

"That wasn't cool." Steven mumbles about Nikki when we get on the bus, seeing him and Tommy laughing obnoxiously while Emi and Mick sit as far away as possible. 

I'm about to plop down beside Steven when I see Nikki whisper something to Tommy a couple seats ahead of us.

He smiles deviously at whatever Nikki just told him, before he's drinking a gulp of Jack and keeping it in his mouth, only to stand up, walk to the back seats, and spit it on Emi and Mick.

Nikki ruptures into sick laughter with Tommy, and I've had enough. 

I glance down at Steven's skull ring and take advantage of him not paying attention, to take it off of him, quickly. 

"Viv, what're you--"

I don't give him the time to finish his question before I've got the ring on, and I'm standing up as Tommy comes back by, punching him--his skin splitting where the heavy ring made contact.

I can tell he’s seeing red, I don’t help much when I sarcastically add, “oops.”

Everyone’s struggling to get as apart before he can slap me, Steven letting out a high-pitched scream when Tommy tries to bombard over him to get to me after Stevie pushes me on the other side of him.

Duff and Nikki get Tommy off of me and Steven, a trail of blood running down my friend’s cheek.

“Get her off my fucking bus!” Tommy demands at Fred once he comes back here to settle everyone off while Doc is behind the wheel.

“I wish someone would try to kick me off.” I threaten, knowing they wouldn’t get my ass off the bus without getting mauled first.

“Why the fuck can’t you take a fucking joke without being a fucking psychopath?!” Tommy asks me, yelling.

“You spitting a drink on them isn’t a fucking joke, just like Nikki pouring alcohol all over her isn’t a fucking joke!” I hiss back.

“If it bothered her, she would fucking speak up, Vivian, you’re not Jesus--stop trying to save everybody!” He sneers.

“She can’t speak up for herself because you assholes would try to fucking fire her!”

“And that’s none of your business if we did!”

“Both of you, shut the fuck up and calm do--”

“--I’m not calming down until you get that crazy bitch off this fucking bus.” Tommy interrupts Fred.

“Tommy, we’re not kicking her off the bus, now sit down!” Fred insists.

“You don’t have to kick me out, I’m gone.” I state, grabbing my purse, stepping over Steven’s legs to get in the aisle.

“Vivian, sit down!” Nikki orders me where he’s now standing, and I scoff in his face and shove past him.

“Vivian, please, don’t go anywhere.” Fred pleads, tired, and just wanting everyone to behave.

“I’d rather burn for an eternity than spend another minute on this bus with such sad, disgusting, strung out, drunk, bitter people!” I shout, walking to the door.

I hear several steps behind me, and I think it’s Nikki and Fred stomping after me, but I turn to see Axl, Izzy, Duff, and Steven following after me.

Slash is already passed out, oblivious to what’s been happening.

“K.” I say to Doc as he glances at me and sighs out. “Can you stop the bus and open this door?”

I thought we would get off that bus and walk to the hotel in peace, but turns out I left one fight and got into another one.

“You didn’t have to follow me, Axl, alright? I didn’t ask you to so there was no reason for you to come out here with me!” I tell him after he makes a comment about me getting them in trouble, possibly.

“No, I didn’t have to, but you’re my friend and I didn’t want you to be out here by yourself, even though you wouldn’t have to be if you would have just taken a breath and let it go instead of starting a fight, as usual!”

“We’re in Alabama, Axl! It’s not like I’m gonna get kidnapped--nobody wants to fuck me down here because I’m not related to any of them!”

“Both of you are overreacting! Vivian, you shouldn’t have punched Tommy but I understand why you did! Axl, we’re not gonna get in trouble or kicked off the tour for making sure Nikki’s wife doesn’t get snatched up! Now, can we please go to the hotel so I can get ready and go out and get some chicks of my own because I’m tired of sloppy seconds!” Steven outbursts.

Me and Axl look at each other, knowing we’re arguing over something deeper than just him getting off the bus for me.

"Axl, this is not what it looks like, alright?” Duff camly says as we get covered up.

“Not what it looks like?! Do you think I’m fucking blind, Duff, what the fuck are you thinking?! Oh, wait, sorry, you’re not!” He explodes, his face bright red.

“Axl, can you please just let us explai--”

“--You shut up, Viv! I don’t wanna hear another damn thing from you because you just proved to me you could give a fuck about our band.” He points at me. “And what you--all of us--have busted our fucking balls for is about to be completely undone over some fucking pussy?! Are you fucking me right now?!” He says to Duff.

“It’s not just ‘some pussy’, Axl.” Duff states, getting defensive.

“I swear to fucking God, Duff, if you say ‘I love her’ I’m going to--”

“--I do love her.” Duff interrupts him, and Axl’s throwing one of his rings at the wall, causing it to hit a decorative painting, breaking the glass in the photo frame, causing me to jolt a little.

“Axl, c’mon, now it could be worse.” Izzy steps into the room, sitting down on the bed next to us, rubbing his forehead.

“Could be worse? These guys--her fucking husband, Nikki Sixx, yeah, you fucking remember him--are giving us a fucking shot on this tour. And the first fucking night in…” He trails off, at a loss for words, clenching his jaw and rubbing at his face.

“It wasn’t just tonight.” I start, waiting for Axl to look at me as Duff lets out a ragged breath, waiting for Axl to scream again. “It happened back in September, too.”

“You sound awfully proud of that, Viv, you really do. Cheating on Nikki--”

“--He cheated first, Axl. And then you all hid it from me.” I snap.

“I don’t care if you fucking cheat back, Vivian, but out of all the fucking people there is to get your revenge fuck in with, you choose somebody in our band--who’s friends with the band Nikki’s in. That’s what I don’t fucking like. But hey, if you wanna go down as the whore who wrecked Guns N’ Roses’ shot, then go ahead, but if we get kicked off this tour because of you, Nikki will be the least of your worries.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through, Axl, you don’t know the living hell I’ve been enduring for three years of my relationship, you don’t know.”

“That’s not my fault when you could’ve left him then. But you stayed and now you’re putting our necks at risk just so you can get your fucking rocks off.”

“He and I are getting divorced anyway so what the hell does it matter?”

“It’s my fucking band!” He insists. “It’s our fucking career, our fucking music, our fucking dream, all on the line over you! And if Nikki finds out, he’s not gonna be going through the technicalities of ‘well, we’re getting divorced anyway so it doesn’t matter’, he’s just gonna think of his wife getting screwed by one of his friends whose band he’s given a chance! That’s why it fucking matters!”

“Hey, this isn’t her fault, man, alright?!” Duff jumps in. “If you wanna blame someone, blame me, it’s my fault anyway! I’m the one who told her how I felt about her when she was vulnerable and shit happened!”

“Fine.” Axl says, exhaling.

“Sorry for fighting.” I mumble.

We finally get back to the hotel in an hour, managing to dodge seeing any of the guys, Fred, or Doc when we get in.

Once Duff and I are back in his room, he’s getting out of my shower while I'm aimlessly flipping through TV channels, trying to find something to watch. 

"Hey, Viv?" I hear him call and I put the remote down and step to him, leaning against the bathroom door, nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. 

"What's up?" I ask and he looks at me. 

"I forgot my hairbrush." He tells me and I smile a little before stepping to my suitcase to grab mine while he finishes drying off and pulls his boxer shorts on, stepping into the room. "Thanks." He says when I hand it to him and he roughly goes through the strands of his hair, making me cringe. 

"Don't be so mean to your hair, Duff, geez." I comment, taking the brush from him, sitting on the bed. "C'mere." I motion him over and he playfully rolls his eyes and sits in front of me while I stand on my knees at his back and gently brush through his bleached tresses. "You need to start using more conditioner." I tell him.

"That's what Stevie tells me when he sees me struggling with it." He informs me with a chuckle. 

When I'm done, I'm putting my brush back in my bag and getting into bed, under the covers. 

"I'm sorry if this is a let down but I'm too tired to finish what we started earlier." I admit to him as he gets into bed with me and shuts the light off. 

"Tell me about it." He replies, his hand gently playing with the red strands of my hair strewn across my pillow. "And it's not a let down. Just laying in the same bed as you is well over good enough." He assures me and I look at him, smiling. 

I scoot a little closer to him, my arm wrapping around his waist, my lips kissing at his for a brief second as his arm snakes around me. 

"Goodnight, Duff." I say quietly. 

"G'night, Viv." He tells me, and for the first time in months, I sleep through the night, completely. 

I sleep through the entire day, waking up to the feeling of lips kissing up my neck, Duff’s soft hair brushing against my skin and I hum.

“What time is it?” I ask him, stretching, smiling softly as he kisses at my cheek next.

“Five o’clock.” He replies, moving to get off of me, but I wrap my legs around his hips and stop him.

“What time do we have to leave here for the show?”

“It’s an off day, remember?” He reminds me and I raise a brow.

“Oh, it is. I forgot.” I admit.

“Well, you have been asleep the whole day, so.” He brushes some of my hair from my face.

“Wanna get some room service tonight?” I offer. 

"Me and the guys were gonna hangout tonight." He explains. "But Steven already said I needed to bring you." He adds. "So if you wanna come, you can."

"Okay." I nod, rubbing my lips together. "Have you seen Nikki today?"

"He and Tommy were by the pool with Tansy and Sparkie earlier." 

"Is Tommy's cheek okay?"

"It's bruised, but I don't think it'll scar where Steven's ring got him." 

"Ughh, I'm gonna have to apologize to him for that." I mumble, looking at the ceiling. "I just wish him and Nikki would just leave Emi and Mick alone. I mean, you can't help who you like, you know?" 

"Talk to Nikki and Tommy about it." Duff suggests. 

"They'll laugh in my face if I say, 'you can't help who you like'." I state. 

"...Yeah, maybe don't say anything." He agrees after thinking on it for a moment. 

"Yeah." I giggle, kissing his cheek. "Alright, you're free." I release my legs from his waist so he can get up. "I gotta shower and get ready and I'll meet you guys. Who's room do I need to go to?"

"Probably Stevie's." He tells me, getting up. 

"Okay, I'll see you in a few minutes." I reply, getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom. 

He stops me before I can close the bathroom door, about to kiss me. 

"Babe, my breath." I lean back to avoid embarrassment. 

"I don't care." He states, pressing his lips to mine chastely. "See you in a few." He says before walking out. 

Once I get a shower and get clothes on, skipping out on doing my hair and makeup because these guys saw me look like hell for weeks when Nikki and I took those couple months apart, before I head down to Steven's room. 

When I go to knock on the door, it's cracked open already, and I peek inside to see he and the guys are nowhere around. 

"Oh-kay." I mumble, stepping inside to see if there's any sign they'll be back, like room keys, or shoes, or jackets. 

Nothing. 

I turn on my heel and head to the door when something appealing catches my eye. 

A ziplock of brownies. 

My stomach growls, and I realize I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday morning. 

"Just one won't hurt anything." I say to myself. 

Fifteen minutes and five brownies later, I'm not even hungry for actual dinner. 

I put the bag back where I got it and head downstairs to see Steven, Axl, Izzy, Duff, Slash, Nikki and Tommy at the bar. 

I don't give Tommy or Nikki a second glance before sitting next to Steven and Duff. 

"You drinking?" Izzy asks me, amused I'm sitting at the "big boy" table. 

"No." I reply. 

"You want food?" Duff asks me.

"Nah, I'm full on brownies." I explain and Slash and Steven suddenly stop dead in their tracks, mid-drink, before looking down the bar at each other, and then to me. 

"On what?" Slash asks me, cautiously. 

"She said, 'brownies'." Axl tells him. 

"Oh...from where?" Steven asks me and I furrow my brows. 

"Your room, why?" 

"Oh, okay...um, hey, I think I forgot my rubbers in my room." Steven gets off the barstool. "Slash, you wanna come with me?" 

"Nah, man, I'm--" Steven's pulling him off the stool by the back of his jacket, the two of them walking quickly to the elevator. 

Me and Duff exchange glances and follow after them, Duff's hand keeping the elevator doors from closing at the last second. 

Steven looks pained when we step in with them, eyeing the two of them. 

"What's going on?" Duff asks them, casually, wanting to get to the bottom of it. 

"Nothing." Stevie denies, shaking his head a little. 

"Steven, be honest." I add and he shrugs. 

"Nothing's going on." He says, matter-of-fact.

"Stevie--"

I'm cut off when the doors open on our floor and Steven takes off to his room, getting the door unlocked, heading to the bag of brownies with Slash on his heels. 

"Steven, what's wrong?" I ask when me and Duff catch up. 

"Oh, no." He lets out, slightly panicked. "Oh, no, no. Not good. Oh, God. Oh, I'm gonna be sick." He runs his fingers through this blonde hair. 

"Steven, what is it?" Duff asks him next. 

"She ate, like, five!" Steven explains. 

"I can get you some more brownies, Steven, it's okay." I chuckle. 

Duff looks at the brownies, then and Slash and Steven, then back at the brownies, then at me, then back at the brownies…

"Were these…? Duff asks them, raising his brows. 

"Uh huh." Steven winces out and Duff's eyes widen. 

"A-And she ate five?" 

"Yeah." 

"How much was in them?" 

"Well...there was like ten in each brownie and she had five so--"

"--You gave her fifty milligrams of weed brownies?!" 

"Of what?!" I ask.

"I didn't give them to her, she ate them herself!" Steven points out. 

"Oh, no." I say aloud.

"Oh, no" was right.

[ma-gic-gay]

Just as Michael's about to answer their question, Jason's phone goes off. "Perfect timing," he mutters before going outside to take the call. "Jason Morgan."

"Mr. Morgan, it appears Mr. Renault is at the office demanding to speak with you. What should I do?" One of his employees informs him.

"Cyrus has my number. If he would like to schedule a meeting, tell him he can call me and we'll have one."

"I've already told him that and he won't agree to it."

Dammit. Peace in this town is fragile enough; the last thing they need is an angry Cyrus. He's been unstable as of late, not agreeing to this could lead to a gunfight. Well, that's actually to be expected. "We'll meet at the office in twenty minutes then. Tell him to call off his men, including Brando. Look around the perimeter and have the rest of the guards check to make sure that there's no one on the premises or within range of hitting someone."

"Yes sir," the employee agrees, hanging up the phone.

"Business stuff?" Willow asks cautiously. After all, this is the first time she's been in this situation.

"Yeah," Michael answers, sensing from the businesslike stance he's taken in their kitchen. "Let's go check on the kids."

They leave the room and instantly Carly asks, "What did he do?"

"Demanded we meet. I don't know why or what this is about, so please tell me you didn't do anything stupid that could cost the truce to be undone."

"I haven't done anything. I've considered it, but I haven't done anything yet," she tells him. "How long til the meeting?"

"I've gotta get going. You have to stay here, this doesn't concern you. Cyrus is looking for a fight and you'll give him one. He's looking for any reason to violate the truce and take me out," Jason informs her. "I mean it. No showing up."

"Is it a solo meeting?"

"Yes."

"You want me to sit here and list out the times he's tried to kill you this past year and a half? Jason, you can't got to a meeting alone. You'll get killed!" Carly exclaims.

"No I won't, Carly. I've got it handled, I told you," he says, glancing at his watch.

"Yes you will! You need to stop agreeing to these one on one meetings because one of these days he's going to get you killed and I won't be able to survive that!"

"I told you, I'm not getting killed!"

"Can you predict the future? No, you can't! I know you might want to go and have this meeting but you can't do it alone!"

"I'm going to the meeting, Carly. You are going to stay here with your kids, grandkids, and Willow," he says, voice unbudging. She's not going to win.

"Promise me you'll come back."

"Carly-"

"Promise me, Jason, or you're not going!"

"I promise."

"Fine, you can go," she surrenders, hugging him. "But be safe."

"As safe as I can be, meeting with him," he agrees.

"Alright, well you better go now or you're not going to be able to say goodbye to the kids."

He bids them all goodbye, hugs Carly again, and leaves for the meeting. His gun is on him, as is his cell phone. Though the usefulness of a cell phone is to be questioned when it's a mob meeting he's having. Not like he can exactly call the police if anything happens, they'd arrest him.

Arriving at the office, he senses that today's going to be a long day.

"Hey Harry, is it clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright, thanks," he says before walking into the office. "Cyrus. What's so urgent?"

"Well, Sonny's been gone a year now. I was hoping we could revisit us joining together for a way to continue the peace in this town," Cyrus answers.

"Like I told you the day you found out he was missing, that isn't happening. You're not going to run your product through this town and ruin it. This was Sonny's territory and if he's not dead and comes back, it'll be his again. We both agreed no drugs. It's not happening. Is that all?" Jason asks, bored.

"No, actually. I was wondering how Mrs. Corinthos is holding up. Given that this is the anniversary of losing her husband, I'd presume not well."

"None of your damn business."

"No need to get so defensive, I'm merely posing a question. Trying to make conversation."

"If you don't have anything related to business to discuss, my men will escort you out."

"Oh, but I doubt you will," Cyrus says, laughing evilly. "You'll be too dead to even have the chance to get me out of this room." He takes his gun from his pocket rather dramatically for Jason's taste and aims for him.

Drawing his gun himself, the now mob boss ducks, narrowly missing the bullet before firing his own, missing the other mobster by only a few inches. That was on purpose; a warning shot of sorts. "It never occurred to me," the ponytail clad man continues unaffected, "that you'd be so easy to take out. I mean, really. Your reputation is that you're businesslike and directly to the point, but then you've agreed to several meetings with me alone. I was planning on having some fairly difficult plans to kill you, but you've simply fallen into my lap. I do suppose I feel a bit bad, however, that Mrs. Corinthos will have to deal with you being dead as well."

There's a line you just don't cross in business, and that's been crossed. He remembers his promise to not die and snaps into action. "Fire that gun again and I hit you right between the eyes," Jason warns, setting himself up for his shot.

"I sense I've hit a nerve," Cyrus smiles, "mentioning her like that. Tell me, Mr. Morgan, has it ever occurred to you that you're the reason she even knows about this business? With you gone, I suppose she'll be taking it over. Though I don't doubt her, I do doubt her ability to properly run this business. It's doubtful that she'll even make it a few weeks before she's ki-"

Another warning shot goes from Jason's gun, this one only barely above his head. "Last warning, Cyrus. This isn't a game. She's barely involved in this business and you have no right to bring her up when this fight is between us. So drop the gun and get on the ground."

Chuckling as though he doesn't even really believe that he's about to be taken out, Cyrus stupidly continues, "I'll probably send one of my men to kill her, you know. Try to make it painless out of respect for her."

"Talking about me?" Carly asks, walking in with armed guards. She's got the worst timing.

"Yes I was, Mrs. Corinthos. How are you?"

"I'd be better if you were in a casket six feet under," she answers calmly. "Now, put your gun down before I kill you with my bare hands."

Where the fuck did she learn how to do that? He didn't teach her, neither did Sonny. Who did? Not the point, Carly isn't supposed to be here. She's now got the chance to be shot. That would kill him faster than the bullet wound he feels he could get.

"You heard her," Jason says. "Gun down, on the ground."

Turns out that's what needed to be done. The guards with guns pointed at his head doesn't hurt either, he's sure, but Cyrus finally gets on the ground and drops his gun.

"Good. Get Mrs. Corinthos out of here, now," he orders, to her complaints. "Carly, just go."

"I, personally, have nothing against her being here," Cyrus voices.

"You have no say." When Carly leaves, Jason calmly continues, "You mention her name again in front of me and I'll kill you. Talk about your plan to take me out again and you'll be dead. Nothing is changing. This is your last warning. Next time you try to kill me or someone I care about, you'll be dead quicker than you can even move from the scene. Get out."

Angrily, the ponytail clad man leaves, escorted by the guards. Jason then makes sure everyone knows to make sure there's no evidence of what happened, and that there's especially none Carly was ever there before he joins her in her car.

It's a quiet ride, with him firing off orders for his men and her pouting.

"I was right! He wanted you dead! You fell right into his trap!" She exclaimed when they walked into the living room of her house.

"No I didn't! Carly, I had it all under control!"

"Gun pointed at you, Jason! I walked in and there was a gun pointed at you!"

"I had mine pointed at him too! You can't walk into a gunfight!"

"Oh, but you can start one? You can get shot, I can't? Is that how this works?"

"The only reason you'd be shot in general is because of me, Carly! I introduced you to the business, I'm the reason you and Sonny got together, and I'm the reason you're still apart of it. I can deal with getting myself shot, I've survived other bullets before, but I can't deal with you getting shot!"

"I didn't!"

"Yeah, because I kicked you out of there!"

"I brought the guards, I was safe!"

"You walked into a gunfight when I told you it was the stupid thing to do! I told you not to go but you couldn't help yourself, could you, and you went to the meeting."

"You want me to tell you I was wrong and apologize? I'm not gonna do that! You could've been killed! God knows what Sonny's livelihood status is, but yours is alive. Alive, Jason! I'm not risking you dying, alright?"

"I've survived bullets before, I'd survive this one!"

"How do you know that? I need you to stay alive, so I don't care what your feelings are on the subject and I'm not apologizing! If I had to do it again and it was the only option, I'd go unarmed and alone. I would've been shot if it meant saving you from that! Cyrus wants you dead!"

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you died because of me! Your kids need their mother! Cyrus wants you dead too and I'll be damned if I let it happen."

"So what, Jason, you'll do the noble thing and die instead of me? That'll kill me. I couldn't breathe when we thought you were dead last time. Imagine how I'd be if I knew I was the one who caused it!"

"You're not dying!" He shouts back, but there's no edge to his tone anymore. He's less pissed. "Not when it's preventable. You're not getting shot either Carly. If I cause your death, I'll hate myself."

"And you think I won't hate myself if I cause yours?"

To be continued after midnight bc I have thing to add to my blog

eeee

[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

House, M.D. Fanfic (8/?)

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to leave a note on my story. I hope you continue to enjoy my kind of rewrite and/or additions to certain episodes! As always, I don't own House. If I did, Lisa Edelstein would have gotten the respect she deserved contact wise for a season 8.

As stated in previous chapters, the story follows the big picture laid out on the show, but with my own take on things. This chapter starts with Cuddy's struggle to keep it a secret from House about his previous diagnosis being correct. I should say that I REALLY don't care much for early season 3 Wilson, and I'm going to do my best not to let that affect the storytelling. This chapter is longer... lots of story development to get through.

Thanks to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie on Tumblr for reading my ideas and providing positive feedback! Anything in the way of feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!

xxxxx

She was definitely not comfortable lying to House about this. He deserved to know he was right. She didn't know why Wilson suddenly thought he needed to teach House a lesson on humility and make her a party to it. "I have to tell him. I see him every day. I..."

"Everybody lies."

Wilson's words echo through her head that night as her head lay on his shoulder, her fingers tracing lines across his chest. "You were right."

He turned his head slightly to see her better. "I'm right about a lot of things. You're going to have to be a little more specific."

She pushed up slightly on her elbow, the sheet sliding down her chest a bit. "Your patient. In the wheelchair," she started.

He smiled slowly. "You gave him the shot."

She sighed, dropping her head back to his shoulder. "I gave him the shot."

"Why?"

"Because I know you. Because you see things the rest of us don't see. Because as infuriating as it is, you're never wrong about the medicine."

He smiled smugly. "I was right."

"Yes," she sighed, rubbing her face. "You're always right. The man stood up from his wheelchair and hugged his son."

"You weren't going to tell me..."

She looked up at him then. "Wilson thought it was a bad idea..."

"Wilson would think this is a bad idea too. That mean you're going to stop sleeping with me to get pregnant?"

"No, of course not..."

"Then why are you suddenly listening to him?"

She was quiet a moment. "You like the high. The night you showed up outside my window with your diagnosis, you were higher than I've ever seen you on Vicodin. We just worry about you."

"And yet you told me anyway," he pointed out, shifting to get up and grab his boxer briefs. He needed to walk. He needed to think.

She made a grab for his shirt and slipped it on. There was an argument brewing. "You're an addict, House. You're always looking for a fix. If it's not Vicodin, it's a medical mystery that only you can solve. If you don't have the puzzle, you get your high in my bed. Its all just a fix for you."

"That's what you think this is? That's all you think you are? A fix because I don't use Vicodin anymore and you told me no at work?" He spun around to face her. The look in her eyes said it all... she did think that's all she was to him. "I'm going home," he started pulling on his clothes.

"House, that's not what I said..."

"You said enough. I got my 'fix.' Keep the shirt." He headed for the front door.

"House!" She called after him. But it was too late as she heard the front door slam. She sighed and for back into bed. She should have said something. She should have told him him she knew she wasn't just a fix...because she did know. This had been going on for months... it was way past just sleeping together to get a fix or to get pregnant.

Her hand moved over the place he'd occupied in her bed not even ten minutes before. How had this even spiraled out of control that quickly? Sliding closer to his pillow, she inhaled his scent. She could hear his bike engine revving as he tore down the street, and she knew sleep was not going to come easy now in her empty bed.

xxxxx

"How's the leg?" she asked cautiously as she opened his door. She wasn't going to push too much since they were at work, but she was trying to judge his mood. Especially since he hadn't bothered to tell her that his leg was starting to hurt again.

He looked up from his desk and saw her entering his office. "My leg is fine."

"You're limping. Cameron thinks it's because we lied to you. We both know that I already told you, so that's not it. Is it because we had a fight?"

"Your breasts are different," he studied her closely, completely ignoring her attempt to talk about him.

She continued unfazed. "Wilson thinks I haven't told you, and that I'm feeling guilty and want to coddle you."

He shook his head. "You're pregnant."

"I'm not pregnant. How badly does your leg hurt?"

"Your breasts are firmer. As someone who had intimate knowledge with the girls, I would know," he stated. "You're pregnant."

"It's called an underwire. Tell me about your damn leg." She was not going to let him deflect by turning the tables on her.

"My leg is fine."

"Let me do a scan on your brain. If the Ketamine is wearing off..."

"Let me do a pregnancy test." They each wanted to test the other. Fair was fair, after all.

"House, I'm not pregnant!" she dropped her voice at the end, not wanting that word to escape the walls of his office.

"You've been taking fertility drugs. You've been getting laid on a regular basis, without protection. Your breasts have enlarged. You're doing crazy things, because I can't think of any other reason why you would ever listen to Wilson about lying to me. You're pregnant."

"You're not always right, you know."

"Actually I am. You said so yourself. I'm never wrong about the medicine. But you and Wilson would just have me think I'm wrong. You'd rather have me doubt myself and lie to me about it than tell me the truth and prove I'm right," he said lowly, massaging his thigh.

"House, let me look at your leg."

"My leg is fine!" After a moment, he dropped his head slightly. "Don't you think if I thought the treatment wasn't working that I'd do something to try to fix it?"

She sighed softly. "If it gets worse, call me." She knew she wasn't getting anywhere with him then, so pushing further was futile. He was still pissed at her for not telling him he was right. She was pissed at herself for going against her better judgement on this and actually listening to Wilson.

xxxxx

He hated that he'd had to grab his cane. He hated that he had taken the pills. He hated that he was now standing on her front porch, leaning against his cane, knocking on her door.

"Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?"

She wasn't surprised to see him, not really. Not after the way they left things. She was, however, surprised to see him with his cane. "Why do you keep insisting I'm pregnant?" She moved to let him in.

"Why do you keep insisting you're not?" He studied her. That had, afterall, been the purpose of them sleeping together to begin with. She had been very actively trying to get pregnant. So why was she now suddenly opposed to taking a pregnancy test to try to confirm it when he suspected it?

"You're walking with your cane. That means the Ketamine wore off." Now she was deflecting.

"Or it just means I need my next fix. That's what you and Wilson expect of me anyway, right? No puzzle to take my mind off it. Time to give sex a whirl."

She crossed her arms. "That's why you're here?"

"Why not? You have been so eager to welcome me into your bed. Figure I'll get high on endorphins from mind blowing sex and walk out of here without my cane," he said sarcastically. He caught the hurt look on her face at his comment and looked away.

"Call one of your hookers if you want mind blowing sex. I'm not in the mood," she turned to walk away.

"Hookers can do the distraction. They can't do the mind blowing sex. They don't do what you do..." He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He'd crossed a line with that last insult, and he knew it. He'd tried to hurt her with it... knew just what button to push to get the desired reaction. "I took the Vicodin. My leg hurts," he admitted quietly.

She took a step closer then, resting a hand on his arm. "We can figure something out."

He shook his head. "Nope. Tried Ketamine. It didn't work. House the cripple is back for good," he told her simply. He'd gotten a beautiful glimpse into a pain free life, had allowed himself to hope, only to have it yanked away. "Probably for the best. I do my best work this way. Less likely to screw up diagnosing patients when I'm in pain. More likely to be an insensitive ass, but less likely to miss something and screw up the medicine."

"House..."

"Are. You. Pregnant?" his voice low, his eyes dark as he closed down any chance of continuing to talk about himself.

"No," she pulled her hand away and crossed her arms once more.

"Take a test?"

"No. It's not time y..."

"Then how do you know?" He interrupted her, moving closer.

"It's too early to..."

"Better to have another go then. Just to make sure it takes," he murmured lowly, pulling her against him in a kiss then. He was ready to lose himself in her and the way she could make him forget everything else.

At first she was going to push him away, but after a moment, her body melted against his, not bothering to stop him as he pushed her shirt up and over her head. He was in pain. He needed the distraction. Maybe she did too. Maybe she needed the high of sex with him even more than he did. Biting his lower lip as she deepened the kiss, she shoved him back against the wall hard.

He growled when his back hit the wall, his eyes darkening with lust, fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her roughly against him. His mouth moved to her neck, biting her pulse point hard and causing her to hiss, before soothing the spot with his tongue. She'd have to cover that with makeup tomorrow.

Her hands started pulling at his clothes as they worked their way to her bedroom. He closed the door with her body, pushing her back against it as his hands slid to her thighs and lifted her up, using the door to support the added weight so it didn't mess with his leg.

xxxxx

They finally both fell into her bed, breathless and in better moods. "Does that count as makeup sex? Or is that still angry sex?" He asked a moment later.

She lifted her head and couldn't help but smile slightly. "Shut up, House."

"I just need to know if I'm going to be expected to go another round for makeup sex, or if that was already covered..."

She grabbed her pillow from where it had landed on the floor earlier and smacked him lightly with it before shifting to get more comfortable in bed. "Shut up, House." But she did giggle softly to take the bite out of her words. She wasn't mad anymore. He didn't seem to be either. "Go to sleep."

[hikarumkns]

Depressing Post Incoming

I've had a lot of things happen in my life. Who hasn't?

It's only been until recently that I've realized that maybe I'm weak to situations that greatly impact me. Truthfully, I feel very comfortable saying it here since no one knows me here but since I was in high school, I had acquired a drug addiction that had been on and off for the total span of 10 years. I had always thought that maybe it wasn't and that it was coincidental that I would always come back to it but it didn't hit me until a three years ago, when I almost killed myself.

I think some part of me had always been hiding from reality since the passing of my grandmother and I hid through the addiction. Then my brother who taught me most of what I know, someone I looked up to, moved faraway. So about five years ago, I was really, really lost. I thought I was on top of the world fighting everything by myself and by accident, my ex showed me kpop. A genre I really despised at the time. The same ex had introduced me to BAP when we had dated many years back but I hadn't delved much into it.

By this accident I came to realize that the music really resonated with me and I felt free despite being in this horrible trance. I threw myself further and further. Then by some chance delved into BAP and I felt real freedom. I didn't even know why but I just connected to them. I came to a stark conclusion that the relationship I was in was toxic, that I had other things and that I truly had a problem that, for the time, wasn't going away. So with the help of BAP I tried to fight it. I became depressed, looking for anyone to help me, I felt useless but Bang Yongguk released AM 4:44 and found I wasn't alone. I wasn't alone struggling to get out of this depression, addiction, loneliness, whatever it was.

Still in my addiction, I tried to climb out paying attention only to Yongguk's voice at the time. He spoke a lot of truth that it resonated with me and I clung to it in my darkest of days. I found out he was the composer for most of BAP's songs (something I didn't know because I was only listening to tbe music but not paying attention to it all) and began paying attention.

By then Wake Me Up had released and I cried when Yongguk came back because he gave me a path to follow. A path I truly wanted to pave myself out. I listened to it day in and day out. Dystopia even, to get me out of this addiction that became habit, became an everyday way of life that I didn't know was killing me until it almost did.

I lost consciousness and didn't wake until a day later to have no recollection of anything. That was the breaking point for me and by then Honeymoon had released. To this day I find it hilariously coincidental that everything happened in this weird pattern.

When BAP announced they were going their separate ways, a part of me shattered for this reason. The group that helped me and especially, the voice that guided me out and helped me find myself again; I wouldn't hear anymore.... Or so I thought. Until with time, Yongguk released his first solo album. By that point I had become almost two years sober. I've never been more happy than to hear the same voice that clung to, to hear those lyrics that I do wanted to hear. Holding the album in my hands meant the world to me. To think that had it not been for one group, six members and this one leader that I probably wouldn't be here to tell my story. At least a short version of it.

When EGO released I came to realize there was more to myself than I thought. I grew to live myself, I grew to enjoy life and everything that came with it. I wanted more for myself than ever before and I was going to fight for it.

So what's all this? I've told my story one I haven't told anyone. It's so that one day when I find myself lost again, because as dark as it sounds, I feel like that day will come again. Probably sooner than I'd like to think. That one day I'll look back and read this to talk some sense into myself because it's going to be a while before I hear that voice again.

No words can describe how much I cried during Yongguk's Orange Drive MV. For many reasons. First, he enlisted, which although we all knew it was coming; it was sudden and too fast. Second, I remembered how he too said he had wanted to put an end to his life but didn't because of the fans. Thirdly, he came to love himself something we never heard before and it touched me so deeply. And forth, because I wouldn't be able to have someone to hold on to, to look back on but it's okay. I know now that I'm better than what I was. I know now that I can do it on my own.

I promised myself I would never go back to that place. Mental health is something I never thought I dealt with but it turns out that I was a victim to it. It's real. It's powerful and we can fight it. Whether it's music, writing or any hobby, there's always something to fight it. Whether someone and anyone can help you through it. For me it was music and an artist that respect no matter what. For me, I wish I hadn't isolated myself. For me, I wish I had surrounded myself with people who cared. But now I'm stronger than before and we learn through these things. I've made peace with my demons.

So even though I've done this so many times, I want to thank a group of people.

And this man who probably never realized how many people he's helped with his music. With his lyrics. With his words. With his kindness. With his help, I wouldn't have been here. I wouldn't be alive to tell this tale of mine. I wouldn't have the courage to do so.

Thank you for everything

Thank you for saving me

Thank you for keeping me here

Thank you for sharing your story

It's time to tell mine

Thank You And See You Later

🍊🛵

[renee-writer]

Secrets We Keep Chapter 11 72 Hours Later

A bit NSFW

He didn't know what to expect. He just knew he had to see her. The smart thing to do would be to go home and sleep. But, his brain wasn't leading him. He could say he needs to check on her. And it is even partly true. But, in all honesty, he is compelled to go to her by a force stronger then common sense.

She didn't ask him to come. Somewhere deep inside she knows she doesn't have too. He will be here so she has to be ready for him. This day wouldn't be about her. After the way he took care of her, he is owed some care. And he will get it.

He Knicks on the door and she opens in naught but a verra lacy verra red teddy. "Oh Christ." It is out of his mouth before he has time to think.

"It is okay Jamie. Come in."

"Jamie?"

"We know each others names now. While in here, in the sanctuary of this space, we can use them. At any s and m parties we attend, we need to use the others."

He follows her in to the living room. Her arse is covered by the barest hint of lace and it is driving him mad. "We are going to a party?"

"Not today or tonight. But eventually, yes. We must."

"Why?"

"I will tell you later. First, follow me. I've something for you." He follows her into the loo. "A bubble bath. I know it isn't very manly. But it will relax you after your 72 hour shift."

"But why?" He asks even as she starts to undress him. He hisses when she eases his pants over his erection.

"Because, you have done a lot for me lately. Sitting at the hospital, easing my pain. Working an extra shift to be able to."

"Aye," she urges him toward the tub and he steps in and sighs unconsciously as the hot water and oils hit him. "But, it is my role as a sub."

"To a point. You went above. And it isn't just that. This isn't an all' I take and you give' deal. It is a partnership based on mutual need. And right now you need some care."

"I canna argue. It feels to good." He lets his body totally relax in the water. His eyes drift shut and she starts to wash him, starting with his face. No one had done such for him since he was a bairn. He smiles and she is so tempted to kiss him. She restrains himself and moves down his neck. She washs him all the way down. When she reaches his cock, he can't hold back a groan.

"I know you haven't touched yourself. You are way to needy. Good."

"Please Claire. Please." He tries to be still, not to move against her hand.

"I know Jamie. " she strokes her soap covered hand up and down his length. "Come for me. I want you to come for me."

"Oh f*ck! Oh Claire!" He moans out holding the bathtub sides for support, he moves with her moving against her hand.

"Do you need me to go faster?"

"Yes! Oh please! Oh God!" Her hand speeds up and she bends over to cup his tight testes with the other. This puts her arse temptingly up. It is all he can take. He cries out her name as he pumps out a ton of semen. It covers the water and her hand.

"Oh Christ."

"Better?"

"Much. Thank ye."

"My pleasure."

"You couldn't have got pleasure out of that."

"I did. Watching you recieve. Now come. I've something else for you."

He steps out and dries off. He starts to pull his pants back on and she stops him. "You will not need them." He follows her into the bedroon. "Lay on your belly." He does and turns to look at her.

"What are ye about Claire?"

"Recall yer safe word?"

"Aye."

"Then don't worry. I've you." He smiles hearing his own phrase repeated by her. He lays his head down and surrends to whatever dhe is up to. He hears a buzzing sound a second before he feels a pulsating feeling at his neck. He grins realizing she is giving him a massage.

"If my wrist wasn't broken, I would use my hands."

"What are ye using. It feels wonderful."

"Are you sure you wish to know?"

"Now I must."

"My vibrator." He is still for a moment before bursting out laughing. Taking that as permission to continue, she works across his neck and down his back. It feels awesome to be pampered thus. He lets himself go and just sinks into the mattress. She works down his legs and then back up. She runs it over his fine arse and then down between his legs.

"Oh Christ Claire!" He calls out when he feels it against his bawls.

"Something different. Do you want me to stop?"

"No. No please don't"

"Roll over." He does and she runs up and down his hardening length. He starts to gasp. "Like that?"

"You've no idea."

"I think I do." She moves back down to his testes. "Touch yourself. I want to watch you take your pleasure."

"Oh God! Just don't stop."

"I won't." She massage his bawls as he spreads pre-cum over his length and starts to stroke. His eyes roll back and his breathing increases as he strokes harder.

"Come here, I need ye." He groans after a few minutes.

She bends over him and he starts to suckle her, lace and all. Now she is moaning as his strokes get more erratic. He bites her as he cums and she is shocked by a mini orgasm. Had never happened before. She turns off the vibrator, cleans it and themselves off, and then joins him on the bed. She wraps a blanket around them both and cuddles into his side.

"That was incredible Claire."

"I have my ways. I have to tell you about what happened when you were gone."

"Aye."

"My friend Gellis was hear for the first few days. Looking after me. I meant to keep this room locked, for obvious reasons. I was sleeping in the living room. Gellis on one couch me on the other," he nods and starts to stroke her hair. Was only coming in here to dress. Told Gellis I wanted to be close. Well, the second day, the pain came back bad. I forgot to relock the door. She gave me a pain pill. Your massages work berter, by the way."

"Sorry I wasn't here."

"You were where you needed to be. But thank you. Anyway, I feel asleep. When I woke, she was grinning at me. 'something ye wish to tell me?' she asks. I have no idea what she is talking about at first. Then she pulls out the waist cuff."

"Oh nae."

"Oh yes. She had went in my room to get clean clothes for me. I do tend to sweat through then while in pain. And found everything. "Are ye a sub or dom?" she asked. I whispered "dom." "So he is a sub!" She had quickly figured out our relationship. I just confirmed it."

"It is okay Claire. I an naught embarrassed."

"Good. I know I should have asked. But she was right here and I was drugged."

"Shhh, it is okay."

"She wants in."

"What! To this?"

"Not you and I. Just the livestyle. Said she has always been fasinated. Just wasn't sure who to ask."

"Ahh. So the party."

"Exactly. Their is one next week. We are going."

"Okay."

"It will be different. As you are already taken. As am I. We will be more, demonstrating."

"Having sex in public!"

"No. More cuff and whip play."

"Ohhh well that sounds like fun."

"Lay your head Jamie. Sleep for a bit." Safe in her arms, he does.

[ae-diaries]

My Life Testimony

Warning: Long post ahead

The content of this blog has me holding a secret I've kept hidden for a long time. I'm a bit hesitant to share my personal story because others (who knew me already) may be shocked or turned off 😅, but hopefully, the thoughts would bless someone and help you face your weaknesses and rise above them. This is a celebration of the greatest miracle I received from God. I never thought that miracle was real, until circumstances proved that it is possible. 

Foremost in my mind is when I was a high school kid. My life was symbolized by the microphone; I’d been exposed to sing in front of a crowd, be it in school or amateur singing contests. It's not to boast but it felt like I was a singing sensation back then, others dubbed me as 'songbird', 'sweet nightingale' to name a few 🤣. But when no one's looking, I felt, for lack of a better description, just off. This was caused by a certain physical condition that tear down my self-image. 

It all began when my mother noticed that I had an uneven shoulders when I was 13 years old. Later on, I was diagnosed with scoliosis measuring a 20-degree curve, and so my doctor from PGH gave me various stretching exercises and required me to wear a brace to prevent the curve from worsening or else surgery awaits me.

I freaked out inside. At the back of my mind, I wondered, “Why me?”. From then on, a hidden scar symbolizes my 'private' life. People might not notice it, but really I was riddled with inferiority complex and lack of self-worth. Nakakaiyak isipin, imagine ako lang bukod tanging estudyante sa private skul na may ganitong klaseng kundisyon. How I pitied myself. Parang ayoko nang lumabas. Hiyang hiya ako. 

I usually cried and pahirapan pa every time my mother would be putting the brace into my body, kabilinbilinan niya wag ko daw aalisin para daw mapabilis paggaling ko, but there was this one time, while I was on my way to school, naisipan kong dumaan muna sa haus ng classmate ko para lang ipatago yung brace ko. And it happened many times. Ang bigat nyang dalhin, di lang sa katawan kundi pati narin sa kalooban. Later on, they found out what I was doing, until wala na silang nagawa sa tigas ng ulo ko. Fortunately, my classmates did not bully me in school; however, I was still very conscious and afraid that my crush would see me like a bionic kid. To this day, I have never told my parents about this reason. You know as a teenager, I was overly sensitive by the opinion of others. And that's all that matters to me. I didn't think of the consequences of this action. 

Fast forward to 2012, sabi nila end of the world na this year (according to Mayan calendar), feeling ko katapusan ko nadin when I went back to the doctor and learned that the deformity progressed to over 50 degrees. Reality finally hit me! A major surgery was needed to correct my S-curved spine. Why I didn't just wear that darn thing? I must admit nagpabaya ako as I was trying to live like a normal kid. At that time, I was already employed in my first job so I filed for a two-month leave. Luckily, my very understanding boss approved it. I also had an amazing orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Teodoro Castro, who explained to me the procedure (though it was as clear as mud to me). He was very reassuring, so I didn't get scared. 

And when he asked, "Kelan mo gusto magpa-opera?," Without a second thought, I replied, "Kahit po bukas na doc!". My thoughts were, "If not now, when pa?"( I felt like I was running out of time.) His eyes bulged upon hearing my immediate response! And so he set the schedule to May 16, 1 p.m (which I spent at Sta. Teresita General Hospital in Quezon City). 

It was exciting, really, though it had 'Final Destination' feels. Andaming 'what ifs', what if di ako maka-survive? Bigla kong naisip talagang 'life is short' at ang dami ko pa palang di nagagawa sa mundong ibabaw such as makapag-serve kay God through joining a spiritual ministry, to travel for a cause, makapag-abroad, makakanta sa tv, makita si Regine & Sarah, magamit license ko to teach students, maigala ang magulang ko, and to have my own family. Sana magawa ko pa ang mga ito after post-op. 

More so, I felt my family's collective fear; I could actually hear the loud beating of my parents' chest when they signed the waiver 🤣. My father had worries that my voice might deteriorate after the operation. Laying in my bed and knowing that I may be that close to dying, I delivered my prayer of surrender to God and remained fearless. The comforting lyrics of 'You made me Stronger' by Kelly Clarkson became my fight song while in the hospital.

Waking up after the operation was the highlight. Being groggy from the anesthesia, I opened my eyes, feeling like it's just a continuation of my short sleep. I saw the nurses and my family - patiently waiting for me to wake up for almost 6 hours na daw. The first thing I asked was, "Tapos na?" (many times). I felt a huge sigh of relief when they uttered the words that struck me to the core, "Oo, tapos na." S*** I couldn't believe my ears; I was flying with joy! For years I have prayed for this miracle. I wanted to shout and do any dance challenge, 🤣 but how could I do that? They were preventing me from talking yet or make any movements because a mask was surrounding my nose and a lot of apparatuses were attached to my body. Later on, I learned that my younger brother cried after seeing me survived the operation. May kadramahan din pala si brother na lagi kong kabangayan 😂. While the success of my operation wouldn't be possible if it weren't for the assistance provided by my father's company, DMCI Corp. That's why I'll always be indebted to their big boss, VAC (May his soul rest in peace).

My healing lasted for almost nine months. I never suffered from complications, just pure torture and regrets na sana di nalang ako nagpa-opera (huhu). This is no exaggeration but dinaig ko pa talaga ang na-cesarean. On the first month after my operation, I became disabled and reached levels of pain I thought never existed in human experience: It was difficult to breath; I could not stand and walk on my own; I became excessively skinny because of drug intake - this was a legal drug prescribed by my doctor which can remove the pain only for 4-6 hrs. It felt so pathetic and frustrating to see myself in front of the mirror. No matter how much I tried to be positive, my insecurities gripped me down again and again to the point of questioning God: "Is there a hope for me?", 

"How come others could breathe and walk so well? During these times, inggit na inggit ako sa mga taong nakakalakad at nakakahinga ng maluwag. Feeling ko life is so unfair. Somewhere deep inside, I believed I was ugly, that He really didn't like me and it was His punishment for all the sins I did in the past. As I poured out my grief before God, a question popped in my head: “Mira, give me reasons why you should remain grateful?.”

“Seriously, how can I be grateful in times like this?.”

But in those agonizing moments, a light of hope from my parents’ eyes illuminates my darkness. 

In all the times that I cried and complained, I never saw them get too tired to feed me or serve me even if it would make them uncomfortable to make me comfortable. I couldn't imagine how they felt when I looked down on myself. Aside from my parents, my siblings, concerned relatives and genuine friends also never left my side. It's as if they became my extra pair of legs when mine refuse to walk. And my heart is full of gratitude today because they have loved me during the times that I didn't love myself. 

I'm living a normal life now as if nothing happened but others observed that except for my angelic voice 🤣, I tend to become forgetful and a little bit of deaf (Yes to this level) - this was probably caused by my extra dose of antibiotics intake 🤣. They noticed that I walk with lightning speed, as if may hinahabol daw ako lagi - maybe subconsciously, this has something to do with my life goals. Yes, I do get tired easier that's why there are some things that I must not do such as lifting heavy objects, sport activities (except for swimming), washing a mountain of clothes 🤣, bawal ma-stress and ma-exposed sa extreme cold places 😅.

As they say, true wisdom is learning from your shortcomings. For everything that I'd been through, I realized that there's a lesson hidden underneath the pain and it was God's way for me to:

(1) strengthen my faith - It was through this difficult times that I also underwent a 'spiritual surgery/enlightenment'. It has helped me find my stride in God and pray like I have never prayed before (for I know nakalimot ako). I didn't know all His plans but surely He was turning my brokenness into greatness. 

(2) love myself, invest in my relationships and create good memories - The whole discernment gave me the courage to keep progressing. I began to accept my imperfections, pick up my self-esteem, and do the things I haven't done before: Much is to be done but so far, I already saw Miss Regine and Sarah in person, traveled to different places, got to teach students in schools, treat my parents - brought  them to concerts and resto; spent midnight snacks and watched movies with my siblings; hang-out with friends; reunited with a long lost friend; restored a broken relationship, and tried to forgive someone;

(3) appreciate the fine details of life - More and more, my wishes become simpler. I realized there is more to life than any material thing could give, and that is getting enough oxygen and optimal healing to every organ in my body. Sobra kong na-appreciate ang buhay ko, especially the air I breathe, and the legs that carry me everywhere.

Eto lang sapat na 'to be happy'. Why did I fail to notice this before? And that's also what I want to ask you, when was the last time you were thankful for the air around you? True to what they say, the best things in life are free, but the problem is we're not contented with what we have and complicate rules to experiencing happiness: “I will be happy only if I’ll be able to upgrade my phone, buy a latest collection of chanel bag, wear a new pair of sketchers shoes..” And I'm so guilty of it because I once was a shoppaholic before that I forgot to remember how 'enough' I truly have.   

As I look back, hagulhol nako sa iyak - there were tears in my eyes, but they were no longer tears of pain but tears of gratitude - thinking how would I survive without the amazing people in my life.

I believe that God wants me to write this article so that I could speak for Him and claim that today, I can go out without any worries because I'm no longer ashamed of the scar life has left me with. It's a blessing in disguise; a sign that I conquered pain and fear. Wala na sigurong pagsubok na di ko kakayanin dahil kinaya ko na yung 'pinakamahirap' because truly, life is about not giving up and trying to fix yourself up after every fall. 

I cannot make the scar disappear but by looking at it, I see a testimony of survival, inner strength and God's miracles. Jesus never said it wouldn't be easy, but He said it would be worth it!  - Matt. 7:13

#secondlife #lifetestimony #embracingmyscar

[heartbreakerholland]

lunchtime losers [p.p.]

Summary: Peter Parker was one of your best friends in high school, but there were moments that made you question who exactly he could be to you. Here are a few of those moments you spent in Midtown, trying to figure things out year by year.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of underaged drug use, mild swearing, open ended. . . ending(?), unedited

Disclaimer: i cannot stress enough that you shouldn't do drugs/alcohol while underaged. i know high school is weird and everybody might seem to be experimenting with new things, but i promise there'll be a time and place where it's appropriate to do so. i am in no way glamorizing/romanticizing (underaged) drug use, even if it's such a small portion of this fic. drug/alcohol abuse is very serious, even as a teenager when it doesn't seem like you're abusing it.

A/N: i have some pointers! this is a different writing style compared to what i've posted before. i've written like this back when i first started writing fanfiction years ago and quite frankly, i don't even like it that much, so i'm very iffy about this. this is based off of my own experience with getting to know my feelings about a good friend, and a lot of the scenes in here are closely accurate to what's actually happened in my life. the only part that i can say is 100% pure imagination is the ending, which i know will probably make a lot of you frustrated ☺️ (it's because i still haven't told this person my feelings for him oops) ANYWAYS this is written in a very one sided perspective, but i tried to write in a way that you can read between the lines and get a little idea of what peter’s feelings are too. a lot of peter’s and the reader’s feelings are told merely through action and dialogue and less of actual explaining, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless 💞

feedback is greatly appreciated and feel free to request a part 2! enjoy reading!

[masterlist] [join a tag list]

•••

Freshman Year

"This has been going on for weeks," Michelle muttered to you. "If the tension at the table gets any worse, then I'm not sitting with you guys anymore."

You stepped out of the lunch line with your tray in hand, following MJ to stand away from the crowd of students. Looking behind her, you watched Peter and Ned enter the lunch room and sit down at your usual table.

You rolled your eyes. "I already told you. Maybe Peter likes me and maybe I like him back, but he's always been one of my closest friends. I don't want to ruin that."

She scoffed and began walking towards the table with you at her side. "So? You can date and still be friends—"

"But what about when we break up? We either stay friends or never talk to each other again. I'm not risking it."

You knew she would have said more, but the two of you already made it to your table. You took place in your usual seats, Michelle next to Ned and you across from them, next to Peter. You set your backpack on the ground underneath the bench where everyone sat. Without thinking about it, you handed Peter your chocolate milk carton and apple sauce, while he slid over his fruit snacks that May always packed for him. It was a routine; you always got those because you didn't like eating it but you knew Peter did, and Peter never told May that he doesn't like fruit snacks because you loved eating them.

MJ narrowed her gaze at you during the interaction, but you chose to ignore her. It was nothing more than a routine.

"Y/N, Michelle," Ned said. "Please tell Peter that he's being stupid.”

Without missing a beat, you and MJ repeated Ned's words at the same time.

Peter glanced between the two of you with mock surprise. "You didn't even know what we were talking about!"

MJ shrugged, taking a bite out of her food. "Don't have to. You're always stupid, Parker."

He put a hand over his chest. "I'm hurt, guys. I really am."

You chuckled but said nothing more, allowing your three friends to carry the conversation while your mind wandered.

You tried your best to pinpoint the moment you began liking Peter as more than a friend, but your heart wasn't into it.

All you could really tell was when you became more conscious of how close you always sat with him, thighs glued to the side and elbows never coming apart. You blamed it on the lunch table crowded with other students on either side of your friend group, giving you absolutely no space for Jesus in between.

You would catch yourself staring, taking note of his mannerisms and how his light brown hair always seemed to bounce whenever his head moved. You decided you noticed those things because of how long you've been friends with him.

You realized you always watched for his reaction first before seeing the others' after you said something funny, but you told yourself it was only because you valued his opinion the most.

You tried taking note of his flaws in hopes that it would get rid of whatever those feelings were. His hands were always clammy, his backpack was so big that you weren't sure how he didn't topple over when it was on his back, and sometimes he'd spit a little when he talked a lot. (For some reason, those things didn't push you away like you wanted.)

You felt a kick from under the table, bringing you back to the cafeteria. You looked up to be met with Michelle's glare, who signaled you to check your phone. Reaching into your pocket, you took your phone out and looked at the screen under the table.

Michael Jackson: if u keep staring at peter then he might actually notice for once

You gave MJ a look, who was the one who sent the text, and put your phone away. You didn't realize you'd been mindlessly eating until you felt full. You slid your food to Peter, who began eating the rest of it without second thought. (He always ate his lunch first then whatever you couldn't finish as well.) Routine.

Before you could actively participate in the conversation, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

The four of you rose from the long table, gathering your trash to throw it away. You slouched over to grab your bag from where you put it.

"Here ya go," Peter said from behind.

You turned around to see him holding up your backpack for you.

"Oh, thanks," you smiled, swinging the backpack over your shoulders.

He returned the smile. "You going to your locker?"

"Like always, Pete."

"Alright," he slowly backed away. "See you in five?"

You nodded and began walking the other direction, where your locker was. Michelle followed Peter to the band room while Ned decided to accompany you on your short walk.

"Soooo, Y/N," he said suggestively. "That dance is coming up."

You groaned. "I thought the four of us were just going to sleep over at MJ's that night?"

You stopped in front of your locker, opening it to grab a textbook for one of your classes later in the day. You grabbed one of Peter's hoodies that he left in there, knowing it would be cold in the band room. (You had a locker in one side of the school while Peter had his own in the other side. You both agreed to share both, merely for convenience and nothing more.) Ned leaned on the locker next to yours, facing you.

He fiddled with his backpack straps. "You know how the school's making it a 'girls ask guys' kind of thing? Well, Michelle was thinking that maybe we should go! Like, she'll ask me and you can ask Peter—"

You raised a pointed finger at your friend. "I see what you're doing now," you accused him. You shut the locker and began walking towards the band room with Ned beside you. "I don't condone meddling, Leeds."

"But Y/N!" he said excitedly. "MJ and I know that you two like each other. You know that Peter likes you. He knows that you like him. You know that he knows that you like him. He knows that you know that he likes you. It's a win-win!"

You sighed. "You're making it sound more complicated than it actually is."

The two of you made it to the band room and Ned opened the door for both of you to walk in. You both headed to retrieve your instruments, with other students swarming by.

"You're making it actually complicated! Look, Y/N. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but," he lowered his voice, "if you don't ask Peter to the dance, then he's gonna ask you."

You froze, holding your instrument case in the air. "What?" You regained yourself and set the case down, facing Ned. "No, Ned. No. Listen. I'll tell you what I told Michelle, okay? I just want to be Peter's friend—"

"But you like him!"

"But I don't want to do anything about it. It's just a crush—it'll pass. I treasure our friendship more than having a crush that won't last forever."

Ned raised and dropped his arms exasperatedly, giving up.

Michelle popped up, seeming chipper than usual. "Hey guys, we're practicing for contest today," she said. "What're you talking about?"

"It's not gonna happen, MJ," Ned sighed. He grabbed his instrument and trudged away, leaving you two alone since the rest of the students seem to have gone in their respective practice rooms already.

Michelle put her hands on her hips and stared at you, her attitude changing back to normal. "Why not, Y/N? Are you scared or something?"

You sighed. You turned around and headed the same direction Ned went, with MJ following closely behind. "No, I'm not scared. Can you guys please stop meddling? I just don't want anything to happen, and that's it."

The two of you stopped in front of your designated practice room, the door closed. You peeked through the small window in the door, seeing the boys were already in there, oblivious to you and MJ on the other side.

"Why not?" Michelle asked. "You'll regret not ever knowing what could have been—"

"No, that's the thing," you interjected. You were tired of hearing these talks about Peter, and it was beginning to show. "I know that I won't regret it. I can daydream about 'could-have-beens' with Peter all my life, and I'll be fine with that. I don't want to lose him, and if that means that I can't be with him romantically, then that's what I'm gonna do. Having a crush is always temporary, Michelle. Peter's the kind of person that I want permanently in my life. Do you know what I mean now?"

She stared at you with a hint of sadness in her eyes, like she could see right through your words. See what, you weren't sure. After a skeptical moment, she took a breath, surrendering. "Alright, fine. I'll let him know that."

You took a breath of relief. "Thank you."

Michelle turned to open the door to the practice room, Ned and Peter welcoming the two of you in.

-

The practice room was small with the four of you and your instruments in it, meaning you'd be in close quarters with them—Peter specifically.

It was easy to pretend your feelings for Peter weren't there. It was easy to act like yourself despite the elephant in the room. Before the complications, you and Peter were glued together, so why treat him differently now?

Maybe you noticed him noticing you, watching your moves when you pretended you couldn't see where his line of sight was directed. Maybe you took note of him flinching back whenever you accidentally brushed against him, and how the sweat from his palms were more prominent on his instrument.

But it was easier to ignore those things, which is what made it easier for you to act like it never happened in the first place.

Sophomore Year

You weren't usually one to gloat, but damn it you were right about the situation with Peter and you told yourself that you should be happy about it.

Crushes were always temporary. Friendship could last forever.

Could.

Michelle and Ned eventually stopped bringing it up freshman year, and you figured Peter eventually stopped liking you as well.

The whole ordeal wasn't something any of you talked about, an unsaid truth never to be spoken. You refused to even think about those weird few months and how you felt during that time. You told yourself that having a mutual crush on your best friend wasn't something to think about.

You were just glad that you weren't the center of Peter's attention anymore. You knew this was true, mainly because his attention drifted to Liz Allen. The intelligent, breathtaking, lucky girl: Liz Allen.

Besides Peter's obvious crush on her, nothing changed.

"If you three weren't my only friends at this school," MJ said, "I'd stop eating lunch with you guys."

You followed her out of the lunch line after paying, just like the normal routine since last year. The two of you began walking across the cafeteria and towards the same table you've always sat at, with Ned and Peter already there. (The only difference nowadays was Peter sat next to Ned, and you and MJ sat across from them, so Peter could helplessly drool over Liz across the lunch room.)

You chuckled. "Me too, I think. . . It's because of Peter, huh?"

She groaned. "Duh. All he does is gush about her."

You laughed as you sat down next to Michelle, having finally made it to the table. Before even being able to look at your food, Peter began talking.

"She straightened her hair today, guys! She looks so different but still. . . so good."

Ned followed where Peter's eyes were, seeing it was true. Michelle faked a gag, which only you noticed.

The two of you ate your food in silence, which was something different compared to before Liz came in the picture. Peter also stopped bringing you fruit snacks and eating the food that you couldn't finish, as well as denying to take chocolate milk and apple sauce from you.

Sometimes you'd catch yourself missing those little things, but you told yourself it was only because of the change in what used to be normal. Before, normal was getting squished next to Peter and enjoying it, oddly realizing the days he switched between his cologne, and endless banter between the four of you. Now, normal was having to think of what to say to strike a conversation with him, rolling your eyes at his comments on Liz, and being vaguely aware of the few times he looked your way.

You would find yourself hurting, and you'd have to correct your thoughts and say it was only missing the past. There was no use in feeling sorry for yourself, though. Things happen, feelings change, and that was that. You were still friends with Peter in one way or another, and that's what you wanted, so clearly you had to be happy about things going your way.

"You guys are losers," Michelle told the boys, who were still fawning over the senior girl in the cafeteria.

Peter didn't seem to hear her, (he didn't seem to hear anything you and MJ said, nowadays), but Ned shrugged. "You're still friends with us," he replied.

That was true. You were still friends and that's what mattered. It was weird having to remind yourself of that fact, but it was still that: a fact.

"Hey, Y/N?" Peter spoke out of nowhere.

His voice fazed you. It was odd hearing him say your name now, especially after realizing he used to say it almost as often as he breathed.

"You know about girls, right?"

You and Michelle shared a glance, knowing where this was headed.

"I mean, I am a girl, so yeah," you said. You looked at him, but his eyes never seemed to have left the special girl seated somewhere behind you. You paid no mind to it, your eyes going over how his head was dreamily rested on his hand.

"Okay, so," he began. "Hypothetically speaking. . . If you're a senior, would you date a guy that's a sophomore?"

You rolled your eyes, but decided to mess with Peter. "Well, what's the guy like?"

Michelle snorted.

"He's, uhm. . . He's pretty smart. Really nice, I think—"

"He's a cutie!" Ned chimed in.

You shrugged. "Well, if that's all he has going for him. . ."

"No!" Peter retaliated. "He's really cool, and uh, thinks you're pretty! Yeah, you're pretty."

You felt your face heat up and you were glad that none of your friends were looking at you for once.

-

You were warned that the people you walk into high school with would never be the people you'd walk out of high school with. People grew apart and that was life, apparently. You didn't think those warnings would actually apply to you, though. You thought the four of you were too strong together to separate.

By the time sophomore year was halfway done, you were proved dearly wrong.

You thought Liz would be the only strain on your friendship with Peter, but his behavior drastically changed out of nowhere then suddenly he got an internship with Stark Enterprises. Peter was one of the smartest people you ever met, so you weren't surprised. If anything, the real surprise was he not only quit the only class he had with you—which was music—but he stopped even trying to talk to you.

You and Michelle decided to stop sitting with Peter and Ned during lunch.

"There he goes again," Michelle pointed.

You followed her gaze and saw that Peter was fawning over Liz again, which was weird considering he rarely showed up during lunch anymore.

It hurt. You knew that now. Missing Peter wasn't something you'd expect to feel, but lately? It's all you've felt.

You didn't have to miss MJ or Ned, because you still saw them and talked to them regularly. It was only Peter. Always Peter freaking Parker.

Maybe you took him for granted. You'd never thought that there'd come a day that you'd stop sharing food, sharing classes, sharing a conversation.

"No point in regretting it," you said aloud.

It was more for yourself than to Michelle. You made your decision on who Peter was to you, so it would only be a waste of time in wondering who he could have been.

Junior Year

Something changed sophomore year. Ned told you that Peter ditched the academic decathlon which resulted in him getting detention. That was something you never expected to hear, considering Peter was the perfect example of Midtown High's star student.

The beginning of junior year, you saw him in music. He stayed this time.

He seemed to be taking advantage of "conveniently" getting the same class like before. He made a point to talk to you again—during class and lunch—and it was like he never ditched you and MJ.

"Oh my God," you rolled your eyes. You aggressively turned your body to face Peter who sat beside you. "You just want to win! You're not even right!"

He looked at Ned and MJ sat in front of you two for help, but they only stared back with clear amusement. (The four of you assumed your usual seats from freshman year, so you would always get squished against Peter's side at lunch again.)

"It doesn't matter if I'm right!" he exclaimed with big hand gestures. "A debate is a debate! You could be right—I'm not saying you are—but I'm just better at debating than you."

Ned did a terrible job at hiding his laughter from the argument you were having with Peter.

This was something that you were happy you had the chance of getting used to again—not that you'd ever tell Peter that. As soon as the school year began and all of you sat together, not so playful yelling was all that accompanied the lunch table.

The dorky boy loved proving himself right, and you loved proving people wrong. As soon as the second week of sharing lunch in the cafeteria passed by, it would have been weird not to bicker with him like before.

Michelle slammed her book closed, startling the three of you to silence. "Look," she said, giving you and Peter a death glare. "Y/N, Peter has some good points—all only technical, but still good."

Peter thanked her and you huffed, upset MJ wasn't on your side.

"Shut up, Peter," she said. "Peter, Y/N's still right, and you're just gross."

"Ha!" you yelled, then rose from the table's bench and reached over to high-five Ned. (You were sure he'd side with either of you, but it was the thought that counts.)

Peter scoffed. "It's not that gross," he said, refusing to take Michelle's answer. "If you were on a deserted island with a bag of frozen chicken nuggets and no microwave, it would still be safe to eat them—"

"The directions say to microwave them for a reason, Peter!" you interrupted.

"It's already cooked!" he brought up, which was something he pointed out earlier in the conversation. "It's cooked before it's frozen, then you can just warm it up in the microwave—but that doesn't mean you have to—"

"Y'know what, fine," you said, slamming your hands down on top of the lunch table. "You can eat frozen chicken nuggets all you want, Peter. But I am going to warm mine up in the microwave like everybody else. And if you get some weird disease, don't come crying to me because I was right—"

"I won't come crying back to you! Because I'm still right!"

The bell rang, signaling the end of your lunch before you could put another word in. The four of you immediately rose, with MJ and Ned heading straight to the band room.

You reached down for your backpack, only not to find it where you left it. Turning around, Peter held it in the air for you to shrug on. Just like before.

The two of you silently walked side by side to your locker so you could switch out textbooks and get one of Peter's sweaters that he always "forgot" in there.

"How's that one guy doing?" Peter asked, one hand in his jean pocket with the other gripping his backpack strap.

You shrugged, opening your locker. He leaned against the locker next to yours, staring you down with his usual grin.

You'd be damned if you didn't say puberty was doing Parker well. You wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't ditched you last school year, but he definitely got. . . toned, to say the least. He also learned how to use hair gel and walked around school with clothes that seemed to make him more confident.

You cleared the thoughts away. Those things were only noticeable because you were friends with him. Obviously.

"You mean Carlos?" you replied. You reached into the locker and sorted out what you needed to.

Peter nodded then grabbed the textbooks you had in your arms. You shut the locker and the two of you began your walk to the band room.

"I'm pretty sure he was flirting with me, which was nice," you told your friend. "But he stopped talking to me out of nowhere and hasn't even opened my messages since."

He scrunched his eyebrows. "Here, lemme see the messages."

Before you could reach in your back pocket for your phone, Peter beat you to it with his free hand. He unlocked it and went to the messages. While reading it, he chuckled.

"Seriously, Y/N?" he said, amused. "That's why he stopped replying! You called him 'dude!'"

You gave him a shocked look. "So what? I call everyone dude."

Making it to the band room, you opened the door and followed Peter in. He spoke while the two of you set down your belongings. "You friend-zoned him."

You scoffed. "I did not!"

He gave you a look. "Y/N. I've been friend-zoned enough times to know when somebody else is getting friend-zoned."

You rolled your eyes and turned around to get yours and Peter's instruments, but something felt off about what he said. You didn't really care about talking to Carlos, but what Peter said felt like it was partially directed to you. You didn't blame him, because you technically did friend-zone him. . . but that was two years ago! Clearly he let it go by now, because you definitely did.

Senior Year

You and Michelle stumbled inside her home, waving a goodbye to Peter—who dropped you two off—before shutting the front door.

"Dude," you turned to her. She looked at you with glazed eyes, but was still able to keep her focus. You continued, "I am so gone."

Both of you giggled, leaning on each other to take off your shoes and put aside your bags. MJ led you to a couch, retrieved water from the kitchen, then sat next to you. She chugged the water down with a hand clearly steadier than yours. "What do you mean?" she asked. Her eyes were bloodshot and droopy, but she looked put together for the most part.

You shrugged lazily, taking a sip of your water. "You've seen me smoke," you said to her. "I've been. . . chill, buzzed, whatever. But right now? I am high." Laughter interrupted whatever you could have said next, though you weren't sure if you had anything to say.

She laughed with you, still clearly having a good time despite being more sober. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "Like," you looked around the room, searching for the right set of words. "I haven't been this high in a while. . . Like, you've never seen me this gone."

"Ooh," she rubbed her hands together comically. "I'm excited."

You rubbed your eye, forgetting the makeup you had on. "Why?"

"Because!" she chirped up. "You know what they say? Drunk words are sober thoughts. Well, high words too, maybe."

You shook your head with a smile before drinking more water. You didn't mind letting loose with Michelle; you trusted her, which was why you smoked as much as you did in the first place. You were comfortable enough to allow her to see this side of you, even if there was the chance you might not remember any of it in the morning.

You helped each other up the stairs, having decided you should at least take off your makeup and change your clothes. (Thank God her parents weren't coming home that night.) By the time you both finished, you were seated comfortably on the couch once again, this time underneath one large blanket and with the television playing late night cartoons in front of you. A single lamp as well as the TV were your only light sources, which kept the living room in a dim glow.

"Can I be honest?" you spoke over the cartoons, startling Michelle. Neither of you were sobering up at all, but that fact didn't stop anything.

She nodded and turned off the TV. MJ turned to completely face you, giving you her attention. "Yeah," she said. "What's up?"

You began rambling without hesitation. "You know how Peter was at the game? Well, of course he was. He had to be because the band was playing for the football team and he's in band. . . But anyways, I didn't talk to him at all—he always seemed busy with somebody else—but I couldn't stop. . . I don't know. I caught myself looking for him a lot, like, to see if he moved around the bleachers or something."

Michelle nodded, allowing you to continue.

"Okay, well. . . I don't know, dude," you continued. "You remember how we had crushes on each other freshman year? Well—I don't think I have a crush on him, I swear—but I feel something. . . It's weird. He's one of my best friends but I know there's something stronger there."

She looked around the room thoughtfully, searching for a reply. "What do you feel?"

It was hard to think clearly and how to explain yourself; the only word that stayed in your head the entire time was his name. Peter, Peter, Peter.

You began rambling. As soon as the words left your mouth, you instantly forgot what they were, but that didn't stop you from talking. "Michelle, it's so weird. I've never really told you this but, remember when he had a crush on Liz? And when he ditched us for a while after that? I—I think I missed him. And not just as a friend. You know what, I don't know."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You shook your hands in the air as if you could shoo your thoughts away.

You continued. "I care about him as a friend and stuff, but I don't think how I've felt about him is how I feel about other people, like you or Ned. It's different. Like, I don't want to lose him. I don't want him out of my life."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You sighed. "When he was gone for the whole Stark Internship thing, it felt like I really lost someone. I mean, I don't have to talk to you or Ned for days—weeks, even—and I'll be fine. But when the same thing happened with Peter? I would feel so. . . lost."

Michelle nodded, staying attentive the entire time. There was a part of you that knew she wasn't high enough to forget any of this, though you were sure you wouldn't remember much.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked.

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. Peter, Peter. "What does it sound like to you? I don't know what I'm feeling is called, but it's definitely not just a friendly thing."

She stared at you for a moment, contemplating what to do next. "I'm not sure if this has anything to do with you two," she began, "but I think you should know. . . You know how you'd leave during lunch sometimes to go to the bathroom?"

You nodded, recalling the multiple occasions.

"Well," she continued. "Ned and I talked about it, and we noticed that Peter's not the same when you're gone, either. Like, he'd look so bored and would play games on his phone compared to when you're at the table and he'd never stop talking."

You imagined him doing so. "Huh."

"Yeah. . ." she said. "Let's just go to sleep, okay? Sleep on it, and I'll remind you whatever you forgot you said in the morning, alright? Then we can figure out what to do."

As soon as MJ said the word "sleep," you instantly realized how heavy your eyelids felt. You nodded at her proposal, and laid yourself down on the couch with her.

You weren't sure if your eyes were closed or if it was just that dark in the living room, but you were definitely thinking. You imagined the feeling of being brushed against Peter's body, whenever you sat next to each other or walked side by side in the school halls. He started driving recently, and for some reason you always got shotgun while MJ and Ned didn't hesitate to sit in the back. You could nearly feel your elbows touching when you both leaned on the console at the same time. You remembered the times he'd laugh around you, uncaring about how loud it might've been, as well as the fact that he said your name more times in one day than anybody else did in a whole month.

His absence sophomore year definitely put a strain on you. You loved Michelle and Ned to bits, but you were pretty sure you might've loved Peter in a different way.

Him being out of your life for that period of time was confusing but, at the same time, clearer than looking through a window. You managed to keep tabs on him even if it meant only scrolling through his Instagram or seeing how he'd hold himself across the hall. You knew then that you cared about that boy more than you ever cared for anyone else.

You were terrified of you two becoming more than friends because that meant you had a chance of it ending badly and never talking to him again. Staying friends meant staying safe.

It meant that you had more of a chance of him being with you, which is what you knew you always wanted. You knew you'd be happy, crush or not, as long as Peter was in your life the rest of the way.

Is that what it feels like to love?

-

You nervously rubbed your hands together, which gained odd looks from other students due to the warm New York weather. It was a few months after that fated night with Michelle, the day of the senior field trip. The entire senior class got to go into the city and do whatever they wanted for an entire school day.

Michelle coolly stood beside you, her hands in both her jacket pockets. "I'm excited," she admitted.

You squinted at her. "For what?"

An uncharacteristic smile broke her face. "You know! You're finally gonna confess your feelings to Parker. It's about time, honestly. Ned and I were beginning to think about calling off our deal we started freshman year—"

"Hey guys!" a voice chimed in from afar.

You gave MJ a look to stop talking about the subject, watching Ned and Peter walking towards you two.

"I am so excited," Ned said. You caught him giving Michelle a wink, which told you that she informed him of the "plan."

You would've groaned if Peter weren't standing right next to you.

"Me too!" Peter said obliviously. "I really want to check out that new pop culture museum."

A teacher announced for everyone to gather up and get inside the bus. The four of you sat in the back together, you and MJ sharing one seat while Peter and Ned were seated right in front of you.

"I'm scared of getting lost, honestly," Ned confessed a bit after the bus began moving.

Peter huffed his chest. "Don't worry, man! The internship," he winked at the three of you, "really let me get to know the city, so I'll know everywhere we go."

You and MJ rolled your eyes together. Peter had shared his secret about being Spider-Man with the two of you not too long after he got his license, only because his "spider senses were tingling" right before avoiding a crash.

"By 'everywhere' do you mean all the port-a-potty's?" you teased him.

Peter made a face. "That was one time! Ya use the bathroom once and that's when the paparazzi show up," he whispered to himself.

-

You were nervous for nearly the entire day due to the anticipation of confessing to Peter. It was hard figuring out when and where to do so; should you make a big deal out of it like one big crush proposal or just bring it up out of nowhere as if it were the most normal thing to say?

Decisions, decisions.

The four of you were inside the new Museum of Pop Culture, wandering around aimlessly with offhand remarks for everything in the exhibits.

"Guys," Ned said. He walked beside Michelle while you and Peter were behind. "The horror exhibit actually looks pretty scary."

You peeked through the glass doors, the exhibit on the other side. All you could see was red glowing from the ceiling, which did make Ned seem correct.

"Never fear," Peter whispered to the three of you. "Spider-Man is here."

Your group walked through the doors, instantly being met by speakers blasting screams and haunting music. The red lights from above were your only source of light, leading the way deeper into the exhibit.

"Oh," MJ said softly. "Y/N, don't look up."

Not many things scared you, but you knew that Michelle was well aware of what did.

Trusting her, you instinctively gripped onto Peter's upper arm and watched your feet move on the ground. You noticed he instantly tensed at the contact, his bicep tougher with your fingers barely able to wrap around it.

"It's alright, Y/N," Peter said, looking up to see what MJ was talking about. "It's not even that ba—ohmygod we're not walking that way."

He redirected you to the left after the exhibit opened up into a large room. You heard Ned and Michelle chuckle at Peter, who allowed the two of you to move in front of them.

"Dude," you heard Ned from behind. "It's just a bunch of hanging bodies wrapped like. . . mummies?"

Knowing you were well past whatever MJ told you not to look at, you raised your head and took in your surroundings.

"Oh," you said. "It's not that bad."

You looked to the right side of the room where Peter made a point not to cross and saw what Ned was talking about. You laughed, letting go of Peter's arm. "You call yourself Spider-Man? It's not even that scary."

All of you stopped and stood with one of the walls behind you, scoping out the exhibit.

"That's the one thing I don't like!" Peter complained.

Michelle walked over to the small area of fake bodies hanging from the ceiling, all of them covered with cloth and net. She poked it.

"It's fake, you dork," she said.

You and Ned followed her and saw the bodies made a maze, leading to an explanation on what movie that section was about. The three of you taunted Peter, walking into the maze.

The brunette puffed his chest. "Yeah, whatever."

He was last to go inside, the rest of you well ahead. There was a line of bodies between you and him, so you pushed the one closest to him.

Peter screeched.

"One thing!" he screamed. "That is the one single thing! I hate you guys!"

The rest of you broke out into laughter.

-

You were all seated in a McDonald's booth, leisurely eating your shared meals. You had assumed the same seating as you always did for lunch at Midtown.

You felt a kick from under the table. Looking up, Michelle gave you a pointed look.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," she announced.

She scooted out of the booth and stood up.

"Oh yeah, me too." Ned said.

The two of them walked towards the back of the fast food restaurant.

So this was it.

How the hell were you going to do it? You didn't even know if Peter had any feelings more than platonic for you. What if all he felt was platonic? You would make things awkward, ruin your friendship, waste all that time for the past four years being one of his best friends for something non-mutual.

You could hear your heart beating through your eardrums. Your hand shook a little every time you raised a fry to your mouth.

You were terrified. You weren't sure if confessing would even be worth it. In a few months, high school would be over. You'd have no good reason to see any of your friends everyday again, nonetheless Peter by himself.

Maybe you've just been overthinking everything. It wouldn't have been hard to believe that your feelings came only from convenience of going to the same school, having the same class, eating at the same table.

You cared for him, but maybe that was all there was. It could just be an unconditional love, like loving a brother.

You shook your head at yourself. That wasn't it; you definitely did not think of Peter as a brother. Even a little graze against him made your senses go wild. Every time you had eye contact with him, you'd force yourself not to look away despite thinking he'd always have been able to look straight into your soul and know what you felt.

You always knew what he would say if he saw you do something stupid, and you were always excited to hear what he'd think about something that happened to you when he wasn't there. You'd be able to recognize his laugh a mile away, and being the cause of his smile made you feel light.

You knew he'd tell you the truth on which shirt looked better with which jeans and not just say you looked good no matter what. He'd make sure to take stray lint out of your hair and point out if you had something in your teeth.

You've had short crushes on other people, and you even dated some of them for an amount of time. They never made you feel the same way Peter did.

You remembered the feelings you had when you found out he went to homecoming with Liz Allen sophomore year. When you learned of his crush on her, it was a dull ache. But when you even saw them at the dance together? It pierced.

But you were still able to get back to the groove of your feelings after that.

Yeah, you might've been in love with Peter Parker. What took you four years to realize that?

"Hey, Y/N?"

Your head jerked up and you looked at him beside you. God, what were you going to do? Could you bring yourself to say it?

Shut up,you thought to yourself. Eventually, it'll be too late. Say it now.

Peter continued talking after you stayed silent.

"I know this is really out of the blue," he said. He put down the burger in his hands and faced you completely. "But I just want to say thank you for everything. We're gonna be graduating pretty soon and. . . I don't know. I just really appreciate you—and MJ and Ned—for sticking around."

You nodded your head, urging him to continue, nervous to hear what he had to say next.

"Things were really weird after I got bit by the spider and I still feel like shit for ditching you guys for a while. . . But thanks for letting me come back. I couldn't have ever imagined getting better people in my life than you three. Even if we go across the country for college or something, I really hope we can all stay friends. I love you guys, you know."

Oh.

You smiled at him like he did to you. Friends.

You cleared your throat. "I love you too, Pete."

[muzeez]

Sunday

10th May 2020

Sunday

21:22

Today has been cloudy and windy and guess what?? There's been no sign of Henrietta, Merlin, Persia or Folie. They've kept their behinds indoors all day long. It's not rained and it's not been cold but it's not been good enough for them.

So, a cloudy sky and a slight wind can keep them indoors but the thought of a killer disease that they could inadvertently kill others with can't keep them indoors. Which just proves my point. Most people will only play by their own rules, no matter how dangerous the consequences are to others. Yet, they'll be the very ones what bang on the most about how much they care about the NHS and moan about how lockdown is affecting them so badly. When the sun's been out they've not even tried to stay inside. They've just been doing what they've always done on a sunny day and today they've done what they've always done on a non-sunny day.

I've still had to have my white noise playing all day though because Henrietta has been "facetiming" and talking loudly and obnoxiously. At about 5pm ish,I turned my white noise off because I needed to phone Rasbach about something.

As soon as I turned it off, the first thing I noticed was that Henrietta was totally silent.??! Makes me wonder if she can hear my white noise and because she knows her voice isn't reaching me she gives up. Bitch!! Another thing I've noticed is that when I play my white noise, the window and door banging seems to begin. Henrietta with her windows (it can be like 6 or 7 window shutting slams all consecutive and aggressive. She's only got three windows.) Then there's Persia and Folie with the slamming of the doors. Then there's Merlin with his feet and thuds, like he's dropping a bowling ball on the floor.

It might sound like paranoia on my part when I say this but I believe they're all secretly messaging eachother in spite of and against me.

Maybe I am a little bit paranoid but I'm certainly not stupid. Not entirely anyway. 😂

At seven o'clock I turned it onto BBC1 because Boris Johnson was doing a speech about taking steps to lift the lockdown. Suddenly, Henrietta started talking loud!!

'Bitch!' I thought to myself. Shows you how little of a f**k she gives about what's going on. Her facetiming is more important than the information we're about to receive on coming out of lockdown. Also, I found it odd that she would start smack on seven o'clock.

I turned the tele up so her high pitch, irritating, aggressive, nasal voice wasn't cutting into Boris's words but I could still hear her. I sighed in exasperation and jumped to my feet (without making a thud on the floor... it's possible) and went to my little stereo to put my white noise on. It's only that that seems to drowned her out. Cue the banging and the slamming. The white noise doesn't drown that out.

If I ever confront them. I say 'them' because they're in a click and I know that if I'm confronting one they'll all be jumping in. If I confront them about things, they'll probably turn around and be like, 'oh what about you, the other day, slamming your door and screaming and what about when you play your music and what about that white noise and what about when you're talking.

Door slamming and screaming abuse. There's a big difference between one off episodes of out of control rage and malicious, continuous deliberate banging and slamming and talking loud on a daily basis.

Playing my music and singing. I play my music at a reasonable time during the day at a volume that I'm entitled to play it at that time of day. I've never played my music late at night, which funnily enough Henrietta has, when she's had karaoke parties and Merlin has on a couple of occasions on a Saturday and Friday nights through to daylight. Which, I don't mind, music is a good thing but don't dare have a go at me for playing mine loud during the day.

White Noise. Henrietta, you talk extremely loudly and not just on one off occasions. Ev-er-y single day for 10 whole years. Somedays, I've known you to start your "facetiming" at 8am in the morning and you'll carry on all through the day, through to the evening and you've even carried on till after 12 midnight, shouting and laughing and making childish yobbish jeering noises like you're in the middle of a bustling nightclub. Over the years it's contributed to me drinking, developing ear infections because of using blu-tac as earplugs. These things have played a massive part in me having massive mood swings at work, to me becoming ill and being, I'll be totally honest, Mentally Unstable, you know, over a long stretch of time. Earlier this year, I discovered that white noise is the only thing that has drowned you out and stopped me having to have my tv on so loud. After 10 years of suffering with your shouting Henrietta and your constant heavy footed pacing the floor, you are not going to make out my white noise, which is a neutral noise by the way, is bothering you.

As for me talking. Again, there's a big difference between one off conversations I have on my phone, one off rants that I'll admit I've had, due to the exasperation you guys have put me through and constant agitated shouting, childish jeering, heavy footed pacing, loud SEX, (yes I heard that). Things which are constant and relentless and I feel alot of the time malicious and deliberately inconsiderate. There's a massive difference between my noise and your noise. Mainly because it's your noise that has triggered the majority of my noise and I'm NOT doing mine out of malice.

Also, don't get me started with drunken returns from the pub with Jack the drunk. Screaming abuse effing and blinding, dropping trails of kebab meat allover the foyer, crashing into the walls. Those haven't been one offs either, they've been every single night. Late.

Then there's Persia. Folie's not always been on the scene but having Persia next door has had more than it's fair shares of trouble. Different boyfriend every month, thugs trying to kick her door in then making gun gestures towards MY window shouting 'WATCH! WATCH!" Blatant drug purchases right outside the building.

All that what I've had to put up with from you guys and then you all wanna get into a little exclusive click with eachother, clapping for the NHS but then creating your own rules when it comes to lockdown , so-called "social distance" gatherings right outside my window and outside the main entrance of the building where other people have to pass you all, attracting other individuals from other buildings to approach, chatting, faces uncovered, 2 metre rules gradually turning into 1 metre, drinking alcohol. You welcome Asbo George with open arms who lives God knows where and who once threatened to smash my face in and put my windows through and doesn't even fucking LIVE HERE.

You're all laughing and joking and being boisterous, then I stop by for 5 seconds on my way to get essentials and you're putting on an amicable act but I'm picking up on all the little mannerisms and body language and you allowed that Bastard Asbo George to start having a go at me about stuff at work, which he's totally wrong on and slagging off my friend Rasbach then waving sarcastically at me when I go inside.

All these subtle shady behaviours all because what? Because you've maybe heard some raw hometruths about yourselves in my one off meltdowns. Which you can't prove I was talking about any of you anyway because I don't mention people's real names when I'm ranting or talking on the phone when it comes to complaints. So, if you think you've heard your name you've MISheard but that's what happens when you evesdrop, you can get the wrong end of the stick (apart from when I hear someone telling someone else that I work at ******* and mimicking a banging noise just after I had banged on the floor.) And even IF I had used your proper names, so fucking what? I'm saying nothing that isn't true and what I've suffered, at your hands, this last ten years totally outweighs any anything you can say against me. I'm not saying I'm perfect but I'm pretty damn fucking close. Because I think, I'm a thinker, I take people to heart, I learn people's names, I'm aware of people and who they are as people. I don't have a desire to mess with people's heads, I don't set out to manipulate people or make friends with a person just for the sake of alienating another. I set out to treat everyone with respect and like human beings because I am one.

So, maybe it's about time you as my neighbours started taking a leaf out of my book and stop acting territorial over a building that we are ALL tenants in. You don't own the outside of this building, just you four. There's other people that live here including me and you need to stop being clicky with eachother, so you think you've got the power to behave as you want, sit where you want and ostracize people just because you don't like the look of their face. Everybody here is a tennant and everybody is a human being with equal rights and if I'm forced to confront any of you again about your unreasonable, inconsiderate persecutory behaviour, towards me or any of the other tennants and you try again to argue with me and throw things back at me, I will report you without any hesitation and I won't be as polite as I'm being now.

Maybe you can start behaving right now by getting your arses indoors and abiding PROPERLY to these lockdown regulations.

Don't make me suggest it twice. 😁😁😁😁😁

Oh and Henrietta, if Asbo George turns up, you ignore the door because he's nothing but a user and a bully. I know you've been letting him in your flat and I also know that deep down you are worried about your health and Coronavirus but you feel you can't say no to him and to looking after his dog. If he starts being persistent you call the police. Don't let him push you around. He's an arsehole and if the police are useless or he starts turning nasty and I have to come downstairs and run his ugly arse out the building, I will. Because right now, I'm in the fucking mood cos if he thinks he can be threatening and intimidating, I'll show him threatening and intimidating. In fact, I'll make it so he daren't even show his claaart passed his own front door.

[obrienpascal]

Our Deal

Author: dylanobriens-world

Summary: Mitch Rapp is assigned a partner by Stan Hurley. Her name is Nastasia Aleski. The two of them go through some highs and lows and eventually Mitch finds out some bad news about Nastasia and can no longer trust her. But things start to backfire that can lead them both dead.

Author's note: Hey! So I wrote this on AO3 so I will continue this story on there but I wanted to post the first chapter here:) hope you enjoy!!

AO3 link: is above^^

-----

I knew I had to wake up to go to the bar to meet my new partner my mentor Stan Hurley said I was going to have. He did not mention if it were man or a woman. Although, by the way he looked I can tell he knew who the person was just wanted me to find out myself. I lifted myself out of bed cracking my bones. The dark clouds made it seem it was four in the morning even though it was seventy o'clock at night. It was raining all day meaning I stood asleep till it was time to meet this John doe.

Whoever this person I was going to meet better like drinking at seven at night. It made me think if I should just follow my own path or let them lead the way. Yeah right, if anything they better follow my ass or their out of a job. I don't give a fuck what Kennedy or Hurley says to me. It wasn't hard for me to read people, I take one look at them and I know their intentions immediately. Are they hiding something? Did they hire someone to come with them to make sure I'm not going to kill them or such? It was a gift I had, Hurley helped with it at most but more of me.

Putting on a black shirt with my leather jacket, throwing on a pair of jeans I snatched from my floor and slipping on pair of Adidas shoes, I looked in the mirror realizing I need to shave. I could care less right now. My intentions were to go meet this new partner of mine. I grabbed my wallet and Marbelo cigarettes as well as my cell phone stuffing it in my pocket.

I undid the chains on my apartment front door. I trust no one which is why I put all these chains on my door. I walked out putting my key to lock my door then heading outside. The breeze flowed through my thick dark hair giving my the chills as I stepped into my car.

"Fucking weather," I hissed under my breath starting the engine. My gray Sedan took off to the bar Hurley said my "partner" would be located at. If they recognize me I'll be astonished they wouldn't make a run for it. I've killed many people. Most of them sleep with one eye open because they know I'm coming for them. It's smart, but doesn't stop me from killing them once I lay my eye on the prey.

My sedan came to stop parking in the bars lot. It was packed with vehicles and motorcycles. This better be one hell of a night. I sighed under my nose slipping my hands in my pockets walking into the bar. Immediately chatter fills my ears. Men rambling about the football game. Bar tenders walking around trying to sell drinks, and woman trying to seduce men and drag them to the bathrooms.

Not one of these people looked like a fit to be working with me. Let along able to hold a conversation with half of the drunkies here. I walked over to the bar and sat down on the stool. The man was on the other side taking an order while I sat at the corner with my back to the wall. It was what I always did anyone could sneak up on me. I always needed to be able to look over my shoulder. I fetched out a cigarette lighting it blowing out smoke to my left. Seconds later the man comes over to me.

"What will it be?" He asked cleaning a shot glass with a rag.

I put my cigarette between my index finger and my middle finger. "Just a beer." My tone louder than his over the loud music. They couldn't play better music? Couldn't even hear the game over the beats and the loud hollering from the crazed Giants fans. As my eyes were wandering about they stopped on a woman sitting alone in the corner her back to the wall.

Her long brown hair pushed to the right while she brought her cigarette to her red lips. Her breasts practically were screaming to get out of that tight red dress she was wearing revealing sexy toned legs. She uncrossed her legs when her eyes met mine. The mysterious woman tapped the end of her cigarette letting the ashes fall to the ground as she looked back at me with a flirtatious smirk.

I tried to look away but I couldn't. My eyes were glued to the beautiful woman just a couple of seats away from me. All of a sudden she stood from her chair walking over to me. As she sat down next to me she sat tall with good posture waving for the bar tender to head over. When he came over he tried hard not to stare at her tits. She didn't seem to mind though when he kept sneaking a peak.

Finally, he went to go make her drink then she rested her elbows in the counter bringing her hands together turning her head to me.

"Hurley said you never arrive early." She said to me with a honest tone looking at me with concentrated eyes. I did my best to hide my surprisement in my eyes. How did I not see she was my partner? It all ran so clear. This woman sat in a corner her back to the wall just as me. Along with that, she minded he'd own business letting all this ruckus smooth past us.

"Hurley can mind his fucking business." I snarl taking a sip from my beer. The nameless woman looks away letting out a giggle as the man comes back with her drink.

"Thank you, dear." She says taking it in her hands giving him a wink. The man blushes hard before walking off to another customer. I guess she had her ways to get out of paying for her drinks. Smart girl.

"Would you give me your name or it's a secret?" I ask waving my cigarette around as I spoke.

Her eyes batted as she turned to me sipping her liquor through a thin straw. As she let out a sigh of relief as she was satisfied with her drink of choice she moved her body more to me meaning she doesn't want anyone else to here what she's about to say.

"I am Nastasia Aleski" she smiled through her teeths holding out her small hand for me to shake. I took it in mine giving it a firm shake as I tried to study her face to find a any hint she was lying. I couldn't find any hint of her not telling me the truth or she was just good at hiding it. "I know who you are," she pauses leaning closely, "Mitch Rapp." She whispered that sending shivers down my spine. Nastasia moved away bringing her straw back to her lips.

"I bet you know I've killed people." I say in a low tone but loud enough for her to hear. Nastasia gives a small nod.

"So have I and every other insane person in this world. Your no different. Stan was very clear on who I was going to be dealing with. A sad man who lost his wife and hasn't been himself since." Why would he tell this woman all my deep personal shit if I haven't met her till today. The next time I see him he better hope I don't beat the living shit out of him. "But don't worry I too lost someone close to me. It's not a pleasant feeling."

"Who was it? A husband?" I guessed bringing my cigarette to my lips.

Nastasia shakes her head putting her drink down stirring it in circles with her straw. "My father just when I was a little girl. I was close to him more than my drug addict mother who left us when I was ten. Haven't seen her since and never want to see her again. I do miss my father dearly, sometimes I think he's in my dreams with me." She states looking in the different drink choices on the shelves in front of us. It was hard to read this girl she had years of practice to never let a stranger or anyone be able to read her.

"I'm sorry for your lost."

"I don't need your pity. Now, let's just get to business. Hurley told me to meet at Irene Kennedy's office with you by the morning. Kennedy also knows you won't make it there in time so she suggested I spend the night with you to make sure you get there in time because this meeting is very important." She stated shitfting in her seat to face me. Was she joking? We'd only just met also why isn't Irene telling me any of this? I knew the reason, it would have stopped me to meet up with the woman. It was hard enough to be read her now she has to be with me in my apartment.

"Mitch?" She called out grabbing my full attention.

"Right, sorry. All right, sure let's go now." I tell her stepping out of the stool. I held out my hand for her to get down on her high heels and she took it giving it a squeeze. Nastasia smiled hard releasing her hand out of my grasp waiting for me to lead the way. I walked out of the bar holding the door open for her and she thanked me walking tall outside. It was raining once again as it was darker than before when I just arrived here. The long brown haired woman started to shake at the cold temperature. Standing just outside the driver's seat I walked took off my jacket handing it to Nastasia.

"Thank you, Mitch." She greeted as I unlocked the car and she climbed in the passenger seat. Who knew my night would end in bringing home a woman who is my partner for however long Hurley keeps her in my life.

I drove away from the bar turning on my wipers wiping the rain drops away. She was still shivering so I moved my hand to turn the heat up. The rain was getting heavy by the minute which didn't help how cold my car was. The red light turned green and I drove up the road. Next I turned right and drove up to my parking space.

"This is me." I point to my apartment building. I took the keys out the ignition opening my door. "Well, I hope you can run in heels doll face." I smirk at her before leaping out of the car. I jogged to my front door looking for my key. Seconds later I heard heels clacking against the concrete then hopping up my stairs. I found my key opening the door rushing in as did Nastasia. She throws my jacket to the ground running her hand through her wet hair.

"Boy, was it raining hard. I have to get out of this dress." She says staring down at her wet body.

"The shower is down hall to the right. And I suppose your not going to wear that dress again so I'll just leave my clothes in the spare bedroom." I tell her taking my shoes off to leave them on the mat by my front door.

"Thank you, Mitch." She says once again leaving her heels on the mat then walking down the hall to the shower. I let out a exhausted sigh then walk to my bedroom tearing off my clothes. I didn't mind not showering till she was done. For now I put on a new pair of boxers and turn on the TV. Light flashed in my room from the lighting that just started. Right after the lighting it thundered loudly.

I was surprised she wasn't alarmed by that. Well, thunder storms are more for kids to be afraid of right? I lifted my head from my pillow and noticed it was now soaked. Oh well, I has to get out of bed anyways to give Nastasia clothing. I crawled out of bed to my draws. I opened the top one taking out a T-shirt then next to that draw I took out a pair of checkered red and blue pants.

Holding the clothes in my hand I walked down the hall opening the guest bedroom noticing she already settled in. Her phone was on the night stand along with her cigarettes and purse. Was it okay if I snooped a little? I mean she was in my home. I put the clothes on the bed as I walked over slowly to her cell phone. Finger prints can leave on anything. A phone you'll catch the finger print in a heart beat. My long finger was hovering over the home button until I heard a females voice from behind.

"What do you think your doing?" Nastasia questioned gripping the towel her angry eyes staring back at me. She walked over by me grabbing her phone. I stepped back pointing to the clothes.

"I told you I was bringing you clothes."

"You left out snooping through my phone." She snarled at me her nostrils flared up.

"It's hard to trust someone I just met who's in my home. So I wanted to check if your not someone Hurley did sign."

She let's out a long sigh closing her eyes, "Mitch. I know it's hard for you to trust someone but, I mean no harm. I'm just doing this business for Kennedy and Hurley that's all. You have absolutely nothing to worry about now please can I get dressed I'm exhausted." She explained unwrapping her towel slowly cuing me to leave. I raised my eyebrows then sprinted to the door. Without looking back I said.

"Enjoy your night," I closed the door behind me heading to the shower. I was exhausted as well and couldn't wait to finally get some rest for the hell I'm going to get tomorrow.

I turned on the water letting my boxers fall to the floor as I stepped into the shower. The warm water hit my back as it felt like a massage. I ran my fingers through my wet hair putting shampoo in it. I let the soap fall to the floor, next I washed my body then turned off the shower. I stepped out grabbing a towel drying my hair and face then wrapping it around my waist.

Maybe I should shave so Irene doesn't bother me about it tomorrow. I grab my shaver shaving my thick beard. I put it down rubbing my face as there no longer is a monster beard on my chin. I walk over to open the door walking to my bedroom. Should I check on Nastasia? Or just let her rest? I walked to her room as the door was cracked open. I peaked my eye in not being able to see much which made me open the door a little more noticing she was sleeping with the clothes I gave her snuggling one of the pillows. Good thing she was asleep for all I know she would've tried to leave. I did only meet her a couple of hours ago. Tomorrow better be one hell of a meeting. Otherwise, this woman is in my spare bedroom for no apparent reason.

[starguardiansam]

March 9, 2010

It's a super moon, a full moon tonight.

And I don't feel like dancing, I don't feel like singing.

I really just want to sleep for the next two days.

I might have relapsed again and went on a 3 day binge which was absolutely dangerous being that I see my probation officer on Wednesday and cocaine and amphetamines take up to 72 hours to clear out of anybody's system.

I've disappointed my only real friend in the process. Maybe I shouldn't have told him. But he has always been supportive in my sobriety, what he said in response was probably helpful because now when I think about doing it again I will remember his bitter disappointment, and possibly not do it again.

The pain of feeling like abandoned over and over again occurs on a nightly basis. I'm not sure if that is a depression symptom but I really do need to get back to group therapy. That was so helpful within the first 5 months of getting clean and sober. Kratom leaf has also helped tremendously.

If it weren't for my job at OPM, I wouldn't have met Ray who has helped me through this terribly painful point in my life. He has helped in so many ways he will probably never understand. If I hadn't worked with him, I wouldn't have tried the Kratom. People still somehow consider the plant worse than taking Suboxone or methadone which I think is very cynical. But my dads are proud and have even helped me buy the stuff, even mom and the sisters have been supportive with my decision to take the "supplement."

I love my family but they cannot see how incredibly painful this decease really is. Addiction is a decease, I don't care what anybody else has to say about it. Some people have it worse than others. Yes, there is always a choice involved .. but the same thing goes for those with diabetes. And even the people who are highly allergic to cats still sometimes own a cat. Those allergenic people that have a love for cats find ways to prevent an outbreak so that they can enjoy their love. Diabetics who love sugar but can't have it find a way to reduce their sugar levels so that way they can still enjoy sugar.

Addicts can never find a way to enjoy getting high without the effects of destroying absolutely everything, it's like cancer, or worse. I mean, yes, there are subs out there and methadone and kratom and all kinds of supplements and substitutes but there is still nothing out there that can get you high like you have felt from the bag. But the bag will take over everything you are and feel, it will destroy your home, take your family and job, and kill your friends. I don't know how to control it. I don't understand why it's so easy to forget the consequences of using. I don't want to be this way. I don't want to be thinking about how I can successfully use without getting arrested or caught by a family member or a friend and then taken away from my life

Every day is harder than the last. I haven't used heroin, fetnyol, or meth in over 7 months. Those are the most destructive drugs i've encountered in my lifetime. I've enjoyed other drugs just as much though so I keep using the fact that they hadn't destroyed anything, the helpers, they are the reason I was where I was in the past. I was a successful professional with a house, a car, a job, a family. I want it back, but I had it all and kept it stable for so long when I was popping pills and drinking vodka daily. But something changed when I found the needle. And now I don't know if I can ever go back to how I was.