#can you tell I've been reading the Invisible Man tonight?

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

POV ur old friend(?) from school comes to your doorstep after getting his ass thoroughly kicked so he can tell you his lifes story and then pitch his Evil Scheme to you wdyd

#this is literally nothing #why am I posting this #eh who cares #anyways if I had a nickle for every time this exact situation played out in a piece of media I'm fixated on rn- #can you tell I've been reading the Invisible Man tonight? #goth lit #the invisible man #griffin #dr griffin #jack griffin #dr kemp #arthur kemp #scott pilgrim takes off #gideon graves #gordon goose #julie powers #goosepowers #late night ramblings

[morallyinept]

Azalea - A Lucien Flores One Shot

Summary: A man from your past shows up at a party and leaves you on the cusp of making a life changing choice. Do you stay, or do you leave with him?

Pairing: Lucien Flores x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. However Reader has hair long enough to be brushed over their shoulder and wears a dress.)

Word Count: 4.8k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶 “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/oral F recieving/mild ass play/kissing/infidelity/mentions of past issues with alcolholism and addiction/toxic relationship traits/unrequited love and longing/Lucien's chains come with their own warning

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: I get the sense (from the little clips we've seen of Lucien so far) that he's in love, and probably loves hard, and is messy and complicated with a turbulent past, and isn't a bad guy at all. So here he is, my version. I hope you like him. 😘 (I've used some of his lines from the clips we've seen too.)

MAIN MASTERLIST | LUCIEN FLORES MASTERLIST | FLORA & FAUNA MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

As guests mingle and laughter fills the air in the grand house, you can’t shake off the heavy feeling of discontent grinding sharply around your teeth.

As you stand invisible amongst the cluster of your braying friends, you can't help but cast a wistful gaze back towards the brown eyes staring at you from across the room, loitering casually with a hand in his pocket and lips wrapped around a cigarette.

It makes your skin itch and pickle that he's here.

How is it that he’s fucking here?

He’s like a ghost haunting the hollows of your bones. A constant white noise that only you can hear.

He looks good, well. Better.

He has colour in the capillaries of his cheeks again, and the way he stands is different, he seems taller somehow, a little more grey and wispy, but still handsome. He’s put on a little weight, a small paunch evidence of that. He appears more foreboding with those squared-off shoulders in their thick broadness.

He smirks at you, he never smiles. Just smirks, crookedly and you look away immediately. Those itches and prickles melting into warm heat that floods down your spine.

Fuck, why is he here?

You turn your attention to Mitch, basking in the spotlight of adulation. His animated gestures and booming laughter echo out through the open windows, mingling with the soft strains of music drifting from within the dining room.

Guests cluster around him, hanging onto his every word; their faces alight with admiration and respect. And it makes you fucking sick.

You slip away unnoticed, carrying a bottle of open and warm champagne, seeking solace amidst the blood red azaleas in the expansive garden.

You’re drinking from the bottle of flattening fizz bitterly, leaving your partner toasting his fortune and parry, and there’s tension swirling around your gut that hasn’t died down since the vicious verbal spat you endured the previous night with him.

Your jaw still aches from clenching it all night.

As the celebration in the house continues, the siren call of the garden seems to provide a contrasting haven for you amidst the vibrant azalea bushes that grow plush and full.

An immediate sense of relief washes over your clammy skin, being away from the pomp and grandeur of the party inside, where Mitch holds court with his characteristic charisma. Mitch is a man of stature, exuding an air of confidence that borders on total arrogance.

Tonight's gathering is, after all, in honour of the recent success of his book - a testament to his hard ambition and callous drive. You have no idea what it’s about. You’ve not read it, tiring of your opinions and input being constantly quashed.

Mitch moves through the crowd with ease, regaling guests with anecdotes of his success and achievements, which doesn’t care to highlight the months of patience and suffering you’ve endured whilst he wrote it; his crackling laughter mingling with the clinking of glasses and the hum of vibrant conversation.

Despite the outward display of celebration, you can't shake off the underlying tautness swirling in your gut, lingering from the fight that still hovers between you both. Mitch's ego often overshadows the relationship, and controls it, leaving your own feelings and desires overlooked and unappreciated.

And as you find welcome loneliness in the garden, a fucking moment to just breathe, you can't help but wonder if Mitch has even noticed your absence amidst the ass-kissing bestowed upon him.

Well, it's all about having the right mindset, you see. I've always been driven by success, and I refuse to settle for anything less than the best...

You roll your eyes at Mitch's self-congratulatory tone that follows out the windows and berates you further. It’s moments like these that remind you of the growing chasm between you, feeling a pang of disconnection, a sense of longing for something more profound than the superficial trappings of hollow success.

You find yourself retreating deeper into the shadows of the garden, seeking pause amidst the fragrant blooms with the champagne bottle as your only companion.

And then, startled by a familiar voice, one that grates on you for completely different reasons, you find yourself vis-a-vis with your ex-boyfriend, Lucien Flores, who’s unabashedly shown up uninvited.

Somehow inserting himself back into your life in blocks of time to taunt you further no doubt. The tension between you is palpable as you exchange awkward looks amidst the blossoming flowers under the moonlit sky.

His molten brown eyes are soft and deep as he smirks in your direction as you cast an aloof glace over your shoulder at him that is anything but. You swig on the bottle like his presence hasn’t jangled your nerves tenfold, but you both know that it has.

You can feel his eyes wandering and burning holes across your body framed in a cascade of vibrant crimson fabric; its rich hue contrasting beautifully against the wild backdrop of the garden. With every step, the hem of the dress brushes against the dew-kissed grass as you turn from him and head further into the darker recesses of the plush oasis.

Lucien follows, checking behind him to make sure you’re both still alone.

Lush greenery envelopes the space, with vibrant bursts of blood colour provided by the clusters of azalea bushes in full bloom, their delicate petals casting a gentle fragrance into the air. He watches as your fingers brush through their leaves and velvety heads as you pass.

Stone pathways wind their way through the verdant landscape, leading to secluded alcoves, where you find yourself now with Lucien’s presence engulfing the small space.

“This isn't really a good time for your bullshit, Lucien." You say, as you drink from the bottle again, feeling a trickle of its nectar within roll down your chin.

“I wanted to see you, amante," (lover) he says, nonchalantly.

You wince at the endearing nickname he used to shower you with, whispers of it keening from a set of explorative lips as they inked the affectionate moniker under your skin.

“Really.” You snort rather ungraciously. “Why are you even here?”

He drags on the last of his cigarette, smoke billowing from pink lips, before flicking it away, its embers dying in the night. “Can we talk?”

You shake your head adamantly. “We never just talk. You know I'm with someone else now."

“Yeah. Mitch.” He nods over to the house, the party still in full swing. “Quite the catch.” He slurs with a strained hiss, then smirks.

“He wants kids,” you scoff.

And Lucien’s face softens. “You’d be a great mom.”

“I don’t want to be a mom.” You confirm and he nods.

“I know. That's why I got the snip.” His eyebrow flexes in sympathy. “Remember that summer in Tuscany?”

You shake your head again. “We never went to Tuscany.”

He thinks for a second through the haze and frowns. “No, that’s right. That was Annabelle.” He corrects with a dip in his cheeks. He simply clicks his tongue at his mistake.

“Right. Annabelle.” You bristle. “How is she these days?” Although you don’t really care.

“We should go.”

“To Tuscany?” You baulk.

“Yeah, let's go. Right now. Slip away.” He suggests with a warm seriousness.

“Lucien-”

“Kiss me.” He steps in gently and you place a palm on his chest; the silk of his shirt like fluid under your touch.

Your eyes trail over the shiny watercolour of it, the way it hangs flimsy and baggy at the hem before you brave yourself to trail upwards over the familiar shape of his chest and exposed collarbone, shiny with sweat in the hollow. A duo of gold chains knotted around one another twinkle at you before your eyes find his own.

“You are so unfair.” You shake your head despondently.

“You’ve wanted to kiss me since you saw me tonight.” Lucien states, casually. You feel him take the bottle from your fingers and he drinks a mouthful of it for himself.

“I thought you were sober.” You frown.

“I am, but I still drink.”

You roll your eyes as he clears his throat and puts the bottle down.

“I don’t even know why you’re here tonight. Who invited you?” You question with a knitted brow. You’re pretty certain he doesn't know anyone here. Except you.

You he knows really well. Too well.

He looks at you for a moment, head dipped and cocked to one side as if taking you all in.

“You’re not happy.” Lucien says, brushing your hair over your shoulder and it lingers there, his fingers in your roots gently massaging.

You turn, your nose brushing the inside of his wrist and inhale the scents there. The sun, the natural salt musk of his skin, cigarettes. You close your eyes just basking in the innocent feel of him. He was always so generous with his touch.

“No, I'm not.” You turn your face up to meet his. You can't lie to him, not when he sees you - really sees you. “But I wasn’t happy with you either.”

“I am sober.” He reassures, dropping his hand. “Eight months. I have control of my life now.”

“Right.” You fold in on yourself. You can’t go there. You refuse to go there.

“I came here to apologise to you.” Lucien says, stepping back and casting his glance down the pathway back at the house and its design.

“Is that what your sponsor suggested you do?” You remark.

“Is it Venetian?” He asks.

From the outside, the house exudes an air of opulence, with its intricate facade adorned with ornate columns and graceful archways reminiscent of palazzos.

You shrug, watching him carefully as he frowns.

“I never knew Mitch had such exquisite taste." Lucien smirks with a sneer.

“He doesn’t. It’s his parent’s second home. We’re renting it for the summer. His stupid book tour.” You mutter.

"Pshoo. Fancy." He shakes his head. “No, my sponsor didn’t tell me to come here to apologise to you.”

He turns back to you, his features soft and moulding into concern at your watery eyes looking back at him.

“You seem... melancholy." You feel his thumbs stroke either side of your face and this time you don’t stop him. Just helplessly letting those rough, calloused pads swipe over the skin under your eyes.

“You’re all glittery and sad,” Lucien says, looking at the metallic shadow brushed delicately over your eyelids.

“Why are you doing this?” You query, deflating. Surrendering.

“Doing what?”

“Torturing me.”

“You think this is torture?” Lucien asks, stroking your cheeks delicately. “It got dark. I wanted to see the sun again.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he presses a long, lingering kiss to your forehead.

A phantom sensation dances across your skin - a gentle caress, feather-light and tender in its hesitation. In that brief, ethereal moment, you feel transported back to a time when what you and Lucien had was untarnished by the shadows of addiction and betrayal - a time when his touch had been a balm to your weary heart.

And you missed the sun too.

He walks with you, guiding you backwards to the craggy, stone wall encased in the curve of the dark. You can still see his eyes as they drop to your lips and you remember the taste of him, choking on the smoke of him as he draws nearer to your face.

A hushed conversation stirs your attention from the other side of the wall. A faint, muffled voice drifts through the thick stone wall, and your heart clenches as you recognize Mitch's unmistakable tone.

Lucien covers your mouth gently with an engulfing, warm hand as he ghosts his nose gently over the skin of your neck.

It's hard to focus as you inhale a faint remant of his heady cologne, but on the other side of the wall you can hear your partner Mitch on the phone; his voice dripping with honeyed affection that he hasn’t used with you for a long time.

Lucien pulls back as you push against his chest, standing straight, his palm flat against the wall above your head as he listens out curiously with you.

I can’t stop thinking about you either, darling…

Lucien’s eyes drop to yours, his smirk dipping. “He’s fucking someone else?” He mouths.

You nod. You’ve suspected it for a while now and are only more confounded as to why you haven’t left him yet.

"Pendejo." (Asshole/idiot) Lucien bites in a growl.

As he’s speaking beyond the wall to his clandestine lover, Lucien pulls back, standing upright and shaking his head.

Your hands clench into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms as Mitch waves his infidelity around the garden so casually.

His voice eventually fades out and Lucien takes one of your fists, unkinks your fingers, and brings your palm up to his mouth where he kisses it gently, eyes lancing at you, deep and entracing.

“Fuck him. Come with me to Tuscany.” Lucien drawls.

You wrinkle your nose. “What about Annabelle?”

He shrugs. “It didn’t work out.”

“Why am I not surprised?” You snort.

“Wasn’t the drinking.” He says, shaking his head and cupping your hand in between both of his ginormous ones. “Sober, remember?”

“You just drank from the champagne, I'm not an idiot.”

“Proof.” He says. “Proof that I can control it now.”

“You’ll never be able to control it.”

He nods. “Yeah, not without help. And I have help.”

You sigh and he looks at you earnestly pressing your hands to his chest. You can feel the ribbing of his heartbeat underneath them.

“I ended things with Annabelle ages ago.”

“Why? She was good for you.”

He breaks off with a garbled sigh amd swallows. You watch as he stares intonthe distance, and then he smirks.

“Do you remember when you threw my keys over the fence?”

“Don’t change the subject. Why did you leave her?” You say, fearing the answer.

“She’s not… you.” Lucien kisses your palm again and you can only watch him. Watch, rooted to the spot, heart thudding as he kisses slowly up your wrist and arm.

"I can't be with someone I don't love." He says simply.

You know it’s empty promises and hollow words as he paints this fantasy of a forever with him on your skin with his hot tongue. And it’s an illusion you’ll happily let yourself fall into for a while because it seems almost better than your current reality.

So you kiss him back. Pulling him by the lapels of his thin shirt until his lips are felt against yours, desperately.

He kisses you like the first time, when he was unsure and flighty. Before he became the man who broke your heart and left you walking barefoot on the shards of it.

His hands roam your face, cupping your cheek, thumbs stroking again as you feel his body crush against yours. Hips winding into your belly as he gasps around the taste of your lips.

You both part, panting and wanting, his deep eyes searching you out. He knows you’re in there somewhere, knows you’re better than this life, and also the one he tried - and failed - to give you.

Amidst the confusing turmoil, you can't ignore the unspoken longing lingering between you both, a palpable undercurrent of tension and desire on both parts.

He’s crushed tightly against you, bleeding into the shadows of the stone wall propped up behind you and your skin alike. You can almost feel the thrum of his heartbeat against yours, aquiline nose brushing up the side of your jaw inhaling the sweet scents of you that make his mouth water and his cock stiffen into your gut.

His hand pulls at the silk of your belt and your dress falls open, cascades of rich velvet and silk opening for his hands to roam gently over your naked skin.

You feel a rush of warmth flood your body despite the cool breeze puckering your nipples - warmth at the way Lucien looks at you, marvelling at you.

At the way he touches you, reigniting the sparks that you ensured you snuffed out a long time ago. You shudder at Lucien’s tender touch, the way his fingertips barely glide across your exposed skin, your weak heart fluttering in response to the raw vulnerability you see reflected back in his eyes.

You find yourself leaning into Lucien’s touch, finding solace and comfort in the unspoken connection that has always lingered between you both, despite everything. In that moment, amidst the fragrant blooms and the moonlit shadows, that small nagging thought mutates, that perhaps the love you’d always been searching for had been right here, in his stacked arms all along.

You shake your head, quickly gathering your wits and wrapping the dress around your body.

“We can’t do this.” You croak, trying to convince yourself of it despite all the blood in your veins rushing towards your centre and throbbing like a jungle drum.

“Yes we can.” Lucien assures. “I’ve fucking missed you, amante.”

It stops you in your tracks.

The words hang in the air, sharp and raw, teetering on the edge of a dreamy possibility that you’ve only allowed yourself to relive in the dark corners of your mind in quiet moments of a self-loathing masochism you allow yourself to harbour.

You feel his thick fingers on the tips of yours, a delicate yet invading touch that spreads its poison quickly and renders your resolve to crumble at your feet.

Any thoughts of regret are pushed aside as you wrap your arms around him and kiss him again.

Lucien worships your body as he trails his mouth over your naked breasts, sucking nipples into his mouth as he pushes you back against the wall. You gasp, already squirming and clenching as his lips leave more devastation.

He makes out with your stomach, dipping his tongue lavishly into your belly button as he sinks to his knees. Your fingers knot in his hair, tugging gently as you wind fluffed, messy curls around them.

Lucien turns you with ease in his large hands, gathering your dress to the side, and kisses across your butt, biting the pert cheeks of them softly into his mouth as his hands pry them apart and his tongue makes lewd discoveries that make you gasp into the wall.

He crushes you to him, wrapping his arms around your thighs and forcing his face further in between your cheeks as you reach behind and rake desperately through his hair.

Running his tongue around the tight knot of your skin, and your mind can't help to revisit all the times when he claimed it with his fingers and cock too.

He kisses over the dimples of your thighs, all around them, under them, the backs of your knees - just everywhere and anywhere he can run his scuffed lips against.

Turning you again, he stares at your cunt inches from his nose, that’s soaking through the flimsy, black lace panties you’re wearing.

“He doesn’t fucking deserve you.” Lucien growls, looking up at you. “I don’t fucking deserve you.”

“No, you don’t.” You breathe resolutely. But you pull your panties aside and he gasps as you yank him forward by the back of his head.

He groans out in sweet relief as soon as his tongue makes contact, swiping into your soaked folds.

His hands run up the back of your thighs as he squeezes your ass, pushing your sopping cunt further onto his mouth.

“Yes, Lucien, get in there… get right in there,” you pant as your eyes roll back.

You struggle to stay upright, your body like jelly as you feel yourself slipping against the ragged stone wall against your skin.

He pries you open with his thumbs, licking over the shiny, wet bead of your clit and your thighs shakes uncontrollably. He brutally sucks it, flicking his tongue over and over in his determination to make you unravel.

He won’t stop until you come, you know this. He always was a generous lover in carefree abundance. Far from what you’re used to now - Mitch hasn't touched you in months, and the thought of it makes your skin crawl.

Lucien’s tongue works you up quickly, lapping and gliding expertly as he mouths on you exquisitely. You hear him grunt in hunger and want as he pulls you onto him further; his blunt fingertips pressing bruises into your ass cheeks as he grips tighter onto you, your hips winding into his face.

“Lucien…” you whine as you bubble and brew.

His eyes look up at you, mouth and nose buried into your core as you come; the silvery moon bathing your face in sweet, adoring kisses through its crescent smile as your body heats and your bones shake.

He lets you taste it as he rises up and kisses you, slipping his honey coated tongue back between your lips as you groan.

"Taste so fucking good." He groans.

His fingers attack your pussy, sliding in and pumping fast as you gasp. Clutching onto his shoulders, the silk bunches up around them in knotted waterfalls spilling over your knuckles as you claw and squeeze.

“Come for me again, baby.” Lucien encourages in a low, deep tone. Eyes watching you as the shadows of the alcove play over his ragged face like Rorschach inkblots.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here, amante,” he grunts as you squeeze and contract around his fingers brushing over your spot. “And then I’m gonna take you away from here, away from that piece of shit, and fuck you again. And again.”

“Lucien, please…” you whimper.

“We belong together, baby. I fucking love you.” He mumbles into your lips. “I never stopped. Not once. And I know you didn’t either. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, baby... come for me, that's it, let go... come... Fuck, you're so beautiful.”

You cry out as your orgasm floods your body and his fingers. Your body shakes beyond your control, eyes glazed over and lost in a tumble of his sweet ramblings and bewitching ministrations.

“Come here.” Lucien reaches to his fly as he kisses your neck. His heady grunts sound like gravel in your ears, breath warming you with the acrid scent of smoke seeping into your pores.

He hoists your leg up over his thick arm, his hand coming to rest on your face again as you feel him run his cock through your folds. He dips his hips low as he breaks on through inside you.

“You feel that, you feel that all the way?” He asks, as he slides all the way in and out again.

“Lucien!” You gasp, your lips nipping onto his as you feel him pack you out. You never forgot the feel of him, so hard and thick.

"That's it, baby. Back where I belong."

His pants are desperate; puffy little breaths that soon grow into laboured whines of lusty need. Drunk off of you completely, sobriety smashed in an instant.

He vowed to stay away, to let you heal and move on, but he’s selfish. He knows he is. He can’t abstain, can’t ever quit you. It’s why he’s here, fucking another man’s woman because he’s selfish. Sabotaging every relationship he’s had since you, trapped in that cycle.

Basking in the addictive feel of your cunt squeezing around him as you come, watching as your eyes soar into the sky, howling his name into his mouth as he tastes your tongue and sucks on it greedily.

"Fuck, you feel so good." He grunts.

He comes inside you, filing you full, but he still keeps pumping, still keeps himself buried inside of you, fucking deep and slow. Unable to pull himself out of you, unable to be parted from you now that he has you back inside his hands.

You clutch on tighter to him, not wanting this to end; wanting to indulge in this secret shame in the back of the garden you've allowed yourself to wallow freely in.

He feels so good, so warm and thick. He peppers your face with kisses, the silk scruff of his jawline smooth against your cheeks. Your fingers coil in the curls behind his ears and the back of his bronzed neck, damp with sweat.

They tangle in the chains, one that you're pretty certain in your cock-addled haze that was a gift from you that he still wears - you pull him closer to you still.

“Come inside me again, Lucien,” you whisper as he pecks over your face gently.

“I wanna spend forever coming inside of you,” he whispers back, voice breaking.

And you know he means it. He always means what he says, it's just the follow through is often lost in translation. He’s not a bad man, you know this in your heart.

You spent days convincing your reflection in the mirror that he's not a bad man; he was just weak when you needed him to be strong - an unravelling mess. But he was your mess for time.

And now that he’s inside you again like this, so uncouthly unperturbed that anyone could venture down here and see him claiming you, you know a part of you still loves him too.

You believed it when he said he loved you and you suspect he probably hasn’t loved anyone else like he loved you.

It was raw, unfiltered. Intense. You know it because you felt it too. It hurt, viscerally. Consumed you both and spit you out.

A gaping wound that you’ve not been able to stitch up and every day you’re bleeding out. You wanna tell him how much it fucking hurt to watch him willingly drown, inadvertently pulling you under with him.

You want to lash out and scratch at his beautiful face, slap him and bite and bruise him like he bruised you.

But instead you kiss him, you hear him falter and become weak inside your ear and he groans and whimpers your name as he comes once more.

You let him flood you again, feel it dripping down your thighs, thick and warm as he stains your skin with him all over again.

In the afterglow of your post-coital bliss, your hand traces the contours of his weathered face, running lightly through the wiry greys along his jaw.

Lucien nestles into your palm, lips finding the skin to press in a kiss.

You want to believe it, you want to believe he’s changed and grown and learnt. That he's spent time reflecting, healing.

But you're still marred with the splinters of hurt that’ve lacerated your heart.

Looking into the rich, warm browns of melted chocolate, flecked with golden hues that dance like sunlight on water, you allow yourself to remember the days when Lucien was your everything.

When his gruff, nicotine soaked laughter was the sound that filled your days, and his touch chased away any fears you could harbour.

The ways he would fuck you for hours into the night; his sweat soaking into your skin, as you gnawed on his shoulder, like perfume you’d wear for days without showering him away.

You remember the first time you noticed the signs - the subtle scent of hard liquor on his breath, the empty bottles hidden away in the depths of your home in the most unusual of places. At first, you’d dismissed it as stress or a passing phase, but as the weeks turned into months, the truth became impossible to ignore.

You’d watched helplessly as Lucien spiralled further into the grip of his addiction, his once-charming demeanour giving way to bouts of anger and despair that would paint your bathroom in plumes of his vomit. You remember the sleepless nights spent drowning in tears, the ache in your chest that refused to relent, the biting emptiness that hollowed out your soul into a pair of unblinking eyes and a heart cemented over.

You wonder if that’s why you’re with Mitch now. Wonder if perhaps that this is all you deserve; that you’ll never be happy, so what's the point in trying to fight for it?

The nights had become endless cycles of fear and uncertainty, each day a desperate struggle to hold your crumbling world together. You’d become withdrawn, adept at hiding the truth from your friends and family, plastering on a smile to conceal the pain.

But amidst the chaos and despair, there had been moments of hope - fleeting glimpses of the man you had once loved, the man buried beneath the weight of his addiction and trying to swim out of it.

And though you had often questioned your decision to stay as long as you did, you can't deny the flicker of love that still burns within you for him, the belief that perhaps, just perhaps, there’s still a chance for redemption.

And you hate yourself for allowing your mind to go there.

Lucien reaches to the bush and plucks an azalea off the stem and combs it behind your ear.

“Beautiful.” He says with a smile. Not a smirk, a smile.

“I can’t go back to that place, Lucien.” You say, shaking your head.

You stare out at the house and the sounds of music and chatter still tinkle down the pathway towards you both.

“I know,” he says, running a hand through his hair listlessly.

You untangle the flower from your hair and look at it resting in your palm, the velvety petals smoothed out under your thumb as you stroke.

“But you can’t stay here, either.” His voice pulls you from your swampy thoughts.

"No," you agree. You turn to glance back at the house.

“Come with me,” Lucien pleads softly, deep eyes searching yours out. "What's stopping you, baby?"

Fingertips on your chin tilt you towards him. You tuck the flower inside his breast pocket and he looks forlorn as you do, eyes sinking and any trace of a smile vanishing.

You wrap your dress around your waist and he watches you belt it up into a messy bow on your hip. You can still feel him pooling between your legs.

You take in a deep breath, a steadying one that seeks clarity through the confusion, and inhale the familiar, swarming fragrance of the azaleas one last time.

My first time writing for Lucien and I'd love to know your thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog too so others can read and enjoy. Thankies! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | LUCIEN FLORES MASTERLIST | FLORA & FAUNA MASTERLIST

Tagging @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @undercoverpena @linzels-blog @avastrasposts @trulybetty

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #lucien flores #the uninvited #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x f!reader #jett's writing

[lalanboy]

alan

you came back onboard after 3 long months and the first thing you said to me was, "what was your name again?" i don't blame you though, i'd forget me if i could but was it really had to remember a single syllable name? maybe i just really did not registered in your brain or maybe the neurons contained me died when you stepped out of the gangway that night i bet you don't remember our eyes met but you didn't even tell me your not coming back where was the man who told me he likes shingeki no kyojin? you smiled at me that day, probably the first and i realized that we have something in common i like the idea of us getting along talking side by side about the things we love recommending each other the music we listen to most importantly, the anime we watched i wanna know that

i wonder what your laugh sounds like could you even do that? why do you always look sad? yesterday, i saw you walking under the moonlight it seems like you are carrying some invisible weight on your shoulder i wonder what you're thinking 'cause what's on mine was a bit terrifying thinking…what if you jump overboard and nobody sees you? whatever it is, i hope you get over it

you know i am a good listener, says my friends i may not give my thoughts back but you can vent on me whenever you like that's what i am good at you can trust me i know everyone is judging you for being quiet and i get that they did that to me too our silence can be deafening for somebody just ignore those murmuring voices they don't know what it's like and they will never understand the worlds we build for ourselves kept us feel safe i wonder what it was like inside your head was it eden-like or just semi-chaos? you can take a peak on mine and you are very welcome to come in too maybe that way you will know the "me" i don't usually show

i was you today, giving me a smirk did i do something funny? please, do not stop yourself from smiling although, seeing you like that made me happy i wish you would do that more often

today marks the day when i saw you laugh i like how your face turns red, it overcast the paleness of your skin and yesterday, i saw you without your shirt on i did not expect of you to be lean and very white i could join you in the gym but i guess you wouldn't want a company just like i don't most of the time this is fine, admiring you from the distance if things will change…i hope it's for the best i want to stand beside you hold you feel you breathe will your hands be cold or warm don't ignore me

are you the one i wished for christmas? tonight, you showed up unexpectedly i could not contain my excitement when i turned around a saw you there in the doorway you smiled at me and tap my left shoulder maybe you think i'm crazy for smiling the whole time we were there you made this day extra special and i hope you don't mind when i stare at you was always being red a part of your daily life? i don't complain though, i love seeing you like that you don't know how much i want to join you when you entered the sauna i went to the toilet just to check you out only to find out that your short was in the chair outside meaning, you are only in your underwear but i'm a coward, i cannot do something like that i was having second thoughts whether i' gonna do it or not in the end, the fear took over me i want to be brave enough though to talk to you to hear your voice more often to see that remarkably unforgettable smile of yours i asked father god if he's the one i've been praying for let him come to the gym the next day at the same time that would be my signal to make a move to see what will happen next to know the answer to the question, if he will let me invite myself in his circle i will be fearless on queue

he showed up, but for a brief amount of time just to get his earphone case that he forgot i don't know how i should read that is he or is he not my christmas present? anyway, i feel fine though i just laugh it off until i forgot about it what i expect did not happen but i'm okay whit it just seeing him everyday is enough

was it a mole or a birthmark on your right arm? you said "merry christmas" to me today i told you the same i wish this night would be a very joyful holiday for both of us i just realize, you are the first person who said that to me i'm a simple person so that really made me happy although i waited for you in the sauna hoping you would come but i spent 30 minutes in there without you showing up is it really bad if i just want to see you on your underwear? or do i just need to make up an image of you naked in my head?

you said my name tonight, telling him how focus i am on what i'm doing i think that was the first time i heard my name out of your pretty mouth i'm losing energy but that sound reverberates in my brain then adrenaline surges throughout my body god, i really love seeing you turning red especially your cheeks, that was the best part wish i could bite those love handles and let my crooked teeth put its mark on 'em would i enjoy even the taste of your sweat?

i'm sorry but i hesitated to hug you on new year's day or should i say midnight i don't know but i really felt awkward all of a sudden when you approached me you're saying my name on repeat like it was a chant i was thinking, "i should just give hmi a handshake" and i did, but you put your right hand around me at the last second i did the same what a half-ass hug! i should just embrace you like i did with the others but you know what, i love how soft your hand, your shoulder and back are did you smell my cologne?

i saw you though, get a glimpse of me when i'm about to enter the elevator were you longing for me? 'cause i sure am but i accepted that nothing's going to happen the only thing written in our story was knowing each other and i think that is all we could be, an acquaintance not friends, just two people met on a ship it's weird 'cause i usually get sad about it i guess i just realize that i don't need to chase men anymore men who shows me kindness, who often smiles at me and sees me i don't want to mistake those for infatuations ever again in this new year, year 2024 i will change for the best this is for the best

my first dream of 2024 was you damn, even in there we can't be together you told me you have a girlfriend and that she's pregnant and you asked me something about work i would never want anything from you, except your smile but sometimes you just can't control even how your dreams will play out at least i can talk to you there even though it wasn't you i'm talking to it's just the way my brain making stories to cope on what i'm feeling sometimes, i just want to live inside my dreams everything is possible there we could be possible there

i love it when you bump your fist into my shoulder it's your way of saying, "hi" as an introvert, i think i get it i'm not saying you are one, it is just a guess on my part but from what i observe and what others are saying i really think you are like me we introverts don't do human touch unless we feel comfortable with the other person does that mean you feel at ease when you are around me? fuck, i really love your smile your eyes are red today, did you get enough of sleep though? our interaction earlier was nice and i hope it'll be like that everytime everyday every moment we were together

you are topless in the gym today man, your whiteness was mesmerizing i want to burry my face on your nipples and chest hair imagining what your armpit smells like but why did you have to put your shirt back on? is it because pedro came? or did you saw my stolen glances? "you can have everything" that's what you told to me everything was too much, i only want to have you beside me when i wake up in the morning hold my hand when we stroll through some cities sing me your favourite songs, i don't care if i cannot understand it you…only you i want at this moment i heard you singing, laughing and making weird noises it'll be the best if i record those sounds then you danced like you don't have any care whose watching and twerk while holding your stare at me you're in a good mood today aren't you? maybe i was wrong, maybe i'm not 'cause i am exactly like that when i am with my friends like me, i could be crazy if i want to you poured so much joy in my heart right now if i could just keep it like this forever

you played a "league" song i asked you about it but you did not understand what said instead you thought i was asking for help you helped me though with a grin on your face so i played one of my favourite music produced by the people who made the game you heard it, i want you to hear it then you open the door wearing only a towel covering your lower part oooh was the expression my face made you saw it but ignored it then asked me if i play the game yes was my answer, you asked what ELO honestly though, i don't know anything about that funny 'cause i don't know how to answer you i just told you things that only make sense in my head i bet you get confused and i'm so embarrassed about it jungler is your role huh? i hate playing jungle i'm not even mad when you told me i am "noob" once you got to know what my rank was i even lied about it emerald was your highest rank with kindred as your main sure volibear was my main…but it was may years ago i main seraphine now but i don't want you to know that so i lied again—it wasn't really a lie 'cause i can play top, as mordekaiser it's just i am comfortable playing support all the time we both hate yasuo, that's for sure i bet that is what you're going to talk about when we meet later

as you got out of the sauna still wearing the towel you joked around, taking my bottled water on purpose i said, "that's mine" and you just laugh as i took it away from your hand i laughed along, our eyes met you said something i did not understand i just told you, "goodnight" we could be like that all the time me and you navigating on the same road seeing you sad will make me sad so i smile, i will share my happiness with you and you don't have to ask for it to be with you was my main goal but i think friendship is more special than what i have i mind that'll be what i want and if it blooms into something more that, we will see i want to be close to you…for now

he said he likes cara delevigne fuck, why do you have to be straight? but that just proves why i like you so much 'cause i always fall for straight guys everytime i'm not going to stop liking you though that's just one of many reasons why i feel lucky to be alive to feel something other than what my daily life can offer something i can only dream whenever i listen to taylor swift falling in love heartache heartbreak all the things i never truly experience in my waking life

"i knew you were trouble" was playing on the speaker i heard you singing along when "eh eh eh eh" comes i told you taylor swift is my queen, you just smiled i bet you did not understand what i said just like i did not understand what you said i like how you dance when our eyes met, you feel very comfortable showing me your moves i even noticed the stretch marks on your love handles whenever you're on the bar i want to go home with you and i don't mean in your house i just want us to go together when we disembark this vessel i am going to miss you when that time comes i will take the memories you gave me in good care because that's all i have

you're singing in spanish confidence really runs through your veins but you didn't have to stop i know you're enjoying it, so much you can't help but smile and i smiled

you asked me what my age is i said, "28"

"the same"

"…as you?"

"yes" you just laughed 'cause of the dead air between us i just don't know how to respond to that it is something i already know since july of 2023 since i first saw you since i want to know more about this beautiful man that caught my eye but it is something i could not tell you it'll be one of my secrets

then you go and show me photo of a girl whom you'll be dating in florence, italy she's pretty, someone you probably want to fuck but then you told me you have a girlfriend too you asked me if i have one, i told you no so, you are that kind of a man the image of you in my mind just suddenly change i despise those people who are not faithful to their partners why do you have to be like that? why do you have to ruin it? i guess you're just being a typical guy who do things just because they can whether they hurt anyone, it doesn't matter well, good luck to the life path you're taking i don't have the right to tell you what to do karma wil bite you someday, that's for sure i won't be there to see it—i don't even want to see it i only have 2 days here onboard and the last thing i don't want to think about was you being miserable i hope you'll be happy i'm sure you will and i like that thought

you smiled at me on my last day i would really love to give you a hug but i guess that would be too much so a handshake was our last interaction we always end up on a simple handshake your cold hand to mine i don't know but i am happy with that that this time, i ended things on a beautiful note with positive and calm feelings not a hint of hatred, anger, sadness and confusion just pure joy "by the way, you left your earphones in the gym" that's the last thing i said to you you just smiled and gave me a thumbs up i hope my grin gave you provocative thoughts at least this time, i know you won't forget about me my face my name then i exited the bridge with all the memories i have of you they are for safe keeping

#artwork #drawing #gay #memories #writing #art #writers on tumblr #crush #journal #feelings #writerscommunity #my art #unrequited crush #dream

[dystopia-fantasy]

Always read the job description -Part 1

Max was a fit, well built man. He had been body building since he was 14 and now In his early 40s he has the body of a god, but is slowly getting to the age when he needs to find another way to make money. He knows he can't take part in his competitions anymore, and needs to take it easy. He got great grades in school and college, proving people wrong that you can't be a nerd in a jock body.

Max had some money saved and was able to keep up on bills for a few months but needed a job to keep his large house, in the rich area of the city. He got a call from a business he applied to a couple of days ago, telling him to go in for an interview tomorrow, and if it goes well he will be sent straight on a trip for the company. He gets his new blue suit ready to be worn the next day.

The morning arrives, it's 5am, and Max wakes. He does his normal morning routine, making breakfast, working out, taking a shower, then gets his suit on ready for his early morning interview. Driving to the office building in the middle of New York, it's at least 50 stories high, and is made of mostly glass, and is one of the newest modern builds in the city.

On arrival a large man in his late 60s wearing a suit greets him, "hello sir, you must be max, Sir Mammon is on his way down to collect you, may I say what an amazing suit you have on today".

Max looks the man up and down, seeing the man's huge belly flowing out from under his dress shirt, showing a massive W shape, "thanks mate, you might want a bigger shirt" then points to his belly.

"sorry if I offended you sir, but all clothing has been chosen by Sir Mammon himself" Mammon is the big boss of the business "if you would like to make a complaint I can print you a form".

Max laughs, "No thanks, I'm gonna sit over there, tell Mammon im there".

"will do sir, have a great day" the man says while max walks away paying no more attention to him.

About 15 minutes later a young handsome slender man walks over. "Max is it?" He says behind Max.

"yes.." max says confused.

"I'm Mammon, nice to meet you" he smiles holding his hand out for a shake.

"oh hello Mammon, is wasn't expecting someone so young, no offence of course" max shaking his hand.

Mammon let's out a little laugh, with a little grin "it's ok max, people don't expect someone like me to own such a remarkable company like this one would you like to follow me, we can go up to my office, this is Mark by the way, he's my Butler". Mark is another large man aged around 50, he has a massive belly stuffed into his suit, hes huffing and puffing, like he ran a marithon, "don't mind him, most of my staff are..."

Max cuts him off "fat?"

They both laugh, "you could say that Max" the elevator arrives and they all walk in, "now max, you did read the whole advertisement correct?".

Max didn't, it's was 48 pages long, who would read it all? He just looked at the wage he would get, it started at $100,000 per month. "Yes, I did".

"that's good, most guys are more keen to keep their body's but I guess if your struggling you'll do anything."

Max now confused just nod's and watches though the glass elevator as they fly up to the top floor.

"where here sir" Mark the butler says peacefully in his British accent.

They walk into the room, and Mammon sits at his desk pouring himself a glass of wisky, and Max one too. Max looks around in aww, the room was covered in art work, with the walls painted in golds and whites and had its own bar. "How do you have all this money?" Max asked.

"a mix of many things, this company, and a few investments paid for this whole building, I have many other ways but we're not here for that." Mammon points at the seat," take a seat max" Max sits the chair is made from leather and is very comfy. "So, max, I've gone through your file, I think you're perfect for the job."

"so, does that mean I have the job?" Max replies confused, expecting to be asked a question.

"well yes, if you agree to the terms"

"terms?" Max still confused.

"well yes, you expect to be paid 10times the amount the normal person for this job without any terms or conditions?"

"well I didn't know.." Max gets cut off.

"Max let me simplify them for you. You sacrifice your body to the company, and in trade you get, $100k X the amount you weigh paid into your account per month, So if you weigh 450lbs, you get $450k a month."

"what the fuck? That's sick, I'm not doing that, I'm leaving" and with that Max got up from the chair and stood face to face with Mammon, with the desk all that is separating them. "Your sick, you fa**ot".

With that Mammon's eyes glow a bright red. "I'm a what?" Max got through back against the chair by an invisible force. "Max you could have just left with your freedom, but now look what you've gotten yourself into".

"Let me go, What the fuck?" Max says while traped against that chair, it chreeking with the force of his muscle.

"I'm a fucking demon max, I'm never going to 'let you go'" he took a second break to mock max, "now, what did you say? Fa**ot, was it?".

"fuck, I didn't mean it" the force pins him down harder, trapping his arms against the leather chair arms, and pushing his legs against the underboard. "Please let me go home, I won't do it again."

"shut up max, the process is already starting".

Max looks down to see his body deflating, his pecs turning from mountain peaks to a flat surface, his giant powerful arms turning weak and light. And then looking up he sees a whole new man infront of him.

"Not as big as I thought I would get, but boy I'm big" he took a break to admire his new giant arms and pecs.

"what the?" Max looks in confusion, "how did you do that? Give me them back".

"what are you gonna do max? I'm an infinitely powerful being and you, your an old man, or at least your going to be."

"I'm only 42, what do you mean, going to be?"

"you see I don't have my infinite life span on earth, so to stay alive and in this fit body, I absorb anything a guy has and I want. In your case, these massive muscles, but then I need to absorb their life force as well, in order to make sure I don't age."

"what do you mean life force?"

"well, you have roughly 50 years, worth of life left, I'll drain about 20 years leaving you in your future crippled body at around age 60, force you to work for the company for another 20 years, then when your 80 drain the rest of your life, which after you get fat won't be much, then you got to hell."

"man your sick, let me go, LET ME GO!".

A bright red light shoots from Peters hand enveloping Max's whole body, and he starts to age, his face wrinkling, skin dropping, eye sight worsening, hearing getting muffled, and mind changing a little. "Max, you ok old man?".

"yes sir" max was confused in his mind, why did he say sir?

"max, you ready for your Cruise? You can have tones of food for the next 6 months."

"Yes sir, I'm ready" max lifts his head, opening his eyes to see a new blurry room from his new old eyes.

"you're gonna need these from now on" Peters eyes glow and a new pair of glasses appear on Max's face he can now see clear.

"thank you... Sir", max blinks seeing Peter infront of him, "what have you, done to me".

"Max, I've turned you into the perfect office worker, old, brainiac, who is soon going to get fat and live the rest of his life, in an office chair for me, don't worry for accomodation you live here now, we have apartments on floor 30 to 40, all workers live here, it's policy, we have also sent a team to your house to, well, blow it up, that way nobody is going to be looking for you, becuase we can plant a body"

"give me... My.... Body back, give me... My.. life back."

"Max we both know that will never happen, now enjoy a life of gluttony, and prepare yourself for hell, that's gonna be worse then anything I can do to you." Peter snaped his fingers and a red glow enveloped max.

Recovering from the glow max sees two men infront of him with a trolly of sorts between them. "Is he awake" one says,

"I don't know" said the other.

"im- awake" max said in a much older raspy voice.

"good we can now start the feeding" the man on the left said, his body as muscled as a god, ripped from head to toe, and we can see everything.

Max rubs his eyes under his glasses and opens them again, "Fucking hell, put some clothes on both of you".

Both men where nude, one a ripped god, another muscled up but with a big gut. "Clothes are banned here mate" the beefy man said in a type of Australia accent, "you cant say much fella, look at that tiny pecker".

The men laughed pointing at Max's shriveled up old cock and low hanging balls, "what the fuck"max tries to move his arm to cover him but his arm doesn't move, he looks down to see him stuck in a chair, with a cut out hole under his ass, and straps tying him down, trapping him. "What... Are you gonna do to me?" Max asked sceared.

The men laughed at him again, "no need to act to sceared, we're here to feed you for the next 6 months".

"but... Sir said..." Max get cut off.

"he said you'd be going on a cruise? Fucking hell are you dumb? He's a demon, you shouldn't trust a demon" The muscled guy says.

"bro let's start the feeding we have 50 other guys to see and I wanna watch football Tonight." The beefy guys says, and in unison both their eyes glowed a bright red, showing they where demons too.

The trolly between them had several items on top, one long tube, which floated in the air for a few moments before shoving itself down maxes nostril and deep into his stomach, his head flipped back trying to wriggle it out, but it was stuck. Another item moved into his frame, a IV bag holder, holding a giant barrel type object made of glass, and two large bags floated of the table again and started to drain into the barrel, and the tube connected itself to it, starting a flow of the liquid into maxes stomach.

"done" the beffy guy said. "Now we'll be back tomorrow to refill your barrel, and clean you up if you make a mess, but youll basically be unconscious for the next 6 months, due to the drugs were feeding you."

"so enjoy your sleep mate, you'll litterally wake up a different man." The two men laughed and walked out, max tried fighting the restraints but in his crippled form could do nothing. The door slammed and locked, and the room fell dark, max screamed begging into the darkness to be let free, and to have his life back, which he had only an hour before, but nothing happened, nobody came. He felt the drugs taking effect, but tried to fight back, but it was useless, his body slumped and loosened. His mind fell blank as he drifted of into his 6 month hibernation.

[hwajin]

I had a dream tonight and while it wasn't about Skz sadly, it was sooo cute oml

So there was a big Youtuber/Twitch streamer that whether doesn't exist irl or that I'm just not interested in, but I'll call him Jae since Jae used to stream on Twitch. I'm honestly still salty because he had to stop for such stupid reasons

Well anyways, I knew that I was dreaming and had a bit of control over my actions, but at the same time I had no clue and couldn't control what everyone else was doing. Like I could make myself invisible or almost invisible, but I couldn't make other people leave me alone or stuff.

There was that guy all dressed in black with a plague doctor mask and he was chasing me for some reason. I didn't know what he wanted from me, but I also couldn't just flee. I did something super risky and asked Jae for help. Well, I rather broke into his house but he was used to it. He was trying to sleep on stream and the people who watched him could donate money to wake him up again and stuff. He was used to people breaking into his house since he was so big and honestly didn't really care anymore. He said he's barely ever alone anyways, buy it's still weird to do it when he's sleeping.

I managed to get him to stop the stream so I could talk to him and I told him about the guy in the mask and that I need help to escape and that he was the only one who could help me in that moment. He was the only person there, so I knew for sure that he isn't the plague doctor man, but at this moment I didn't know yet if he knew him. But it didn't matter, I needed help anyways, so I had to risk it.

Jae hesitated and told me that he can't do that. He would risk his own life by helping me. But I somehow managed to get him to help me. I told him that all I need is someone that helps me get some stuff from a little house in a forest, so I can flee afterwards. He hesitated again but agreed and I hugged him because I was really thankful.

We ran together and managed to flee from that plague doctor man for now and into the forest. Since I still didn't know for sure whether Jae was on my side or not and since you can get easily trapped in a forest where no one else is to help you, I used my dream abilities to camouflage. While it wouldn't help much, it would at least help a bit and if Jae really was on my side, the plague doctor wouldn't attack him if I'm not with him.

We managed to reach the house and I begged Jae to stay a little longer since I'll have to write something down that I want him to have. He agreed and I wrote down my story. I wrote down how it came to this. It was a quite sad story and I might write it down later if I manage to remember the details.

But I changed one important part. The end. I changed the end to something positive. I told him that this is how it could have been, but how it's not. I couldn't have him read this in a forest, next to me where the plague doctor could come every time, so we decided to say goodbye. I had all I needed and I could flee and he could act like he never met me to save himself. So he went home. I stayed there a little longer to prepare my stuff, but then I didn't want to flee. Yet.

I waited a little and went back to Jae's house, using my camouflage ability to become invisible. I started feeling something for Jae. Not love. Just friendship. I didn't want to go just yet, after he helped me so much. I wanted to say at least one last thing to him. I never watched his streams since I thought he was weird, but in that moment I realised how much of a good person he is.

The stream was still paused and he read the story. I saw him tear up, since again, it was a very sad story. I know he would pretend like he doesn't care about me. But seeing him tear up after reading my life, I knew that he did care.

I didn't want away just yet. I found a hidden home where I could live for some time and used my camouflage ability to see Jae from time to time.

I ended up leaving him an anonymous message on his desk and watched him read it. He was already on stream again, but I had no WLAN or phone, so I had to watch him like this. I forgot what exactly the message said but I think it was something like "I think you're a cool person" Blabla. Well, he said that he's thankful but it worries him how I left a message on his desk without having him notice me. He was at home all the time since Covid and stuff. I wrote another message, saying that I'm just very fast. He read it again and laughed a bit, clearly nervous.

But then I realised I couldn't stay any longer.

I wrote a last message, telling him that it's me who wrote those messages and that I've been safe so far. That I haven't seen the plague mask man anymore, but also that I've been hiding somewhere no one could ever find me, especially since I used my camouflage almost all the time. And that I can't do this any longer. That I have to go now. Leave without a return. That this is my goodbye to him but that I'm thankful for his help.

I waited until he read the messages. He didn't even pretend to be fine anymore. He was clearly sad and said that he doesn't want me to leave forever. He said he understands that I have to go, but that he'd be worried and that I should at least leave a message for him every once in a while.

I think he knew that when I was talking about leaving in order to be safe, that I didn't mean I would move to another city.

Well, he touched my heart and I entered his room. I stopped my camouflage, but still made sure the camera doesn't see me. And I hugged him tightly before I had to leave again.

I didn't go. I stayed for him. And I stayed with him. Because a bit later he found me. I don't know how because again, it was really hidden. And he asked me to move in with him, so he can protect me from the plague doctor.

Well and then a lot of weird stuff happened because my dream changed lol

Also the camouflage thing worked mediocre in the forest, but anywhere else it worked almost like real invisibility. You could still see me if you really tried, but if was hard

- 🐈

how can all of you dream such complex things i don't get it, like that's a whole story with characters and side characters and what not i just- i just dream about huge pools with sharks in them lately and since i'm terrified of sharks i wake up sweating everyday lmao

#🐈 anon #cutest hooman bean🍬 #kathys asks #kathys cute ass not so anon anons

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Forty-One

Table of Content or Part Forty

Read here on wattpad.

Words: 3.2k

Warning(s): Explicit language, minor sexual situations, drug abuse, drug over dose

A/N: Had to cut this chapter in half because tumblr was being sketchy w the length of it for some reason. Anyway, second half will be up asap but I'm about to pass tf out. Also, this chapter was gonna have some smut but I put it in with the second half instead because the vibe didn't mesh well with it included in this one. Have a good night, update coming tomorrow/late tonight (Jan. 3). Goodnight!!

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I can't help but laugh a little as Nikki presses kisses up and down my neck, bottle of Jack in one hand, part of my ass in the other as our car takes the both of us through London.

Valentine's Day, 1986, started out as one of the best Valentine's Days we'd spent together.

Nikki's mood wasn't too good or too bad, it was a tolerant neutral, I suppose it's because we hadn't done much talking at all.

He'd woken me up with his tongue between my legs and it stayed that way until I had soaked the sheets and was practically begging him to give me a break because I couldn't take it anymore.

Then we proceeded to screw around, then got ready to leave to meet everyone at the Hammersmith Odeon where they were due to play that night.

"How much longer?" I ask him, pulling away from a tongue filled, lust fueled kiss, referring to the time left before we get where we're going.

"Like, ten minutes, maybe." He tells me.

My hand reaches between us, rubbing over the obvious bulge in his pants, before he reads my mind.

After our quicky, I'm pulling my panties back on while he's pulling his gear from his boot.

I just let out a breath.

"Nikki--"

"--I'm fucked on blow right now, Viv. I gotta get myself leveled out." He tells me.

I just nod a little, not bothering to argue.

Once we arrive, Fred's meeting us in the back to escort us inside as fans are already crowding around the front entrance.

Nikki's grabbing at my hand once we get out, as he and Fred start talking.

"And there's a surprise for you." Fred tells me as we walk in.

I furrow my brows before he's nodding to our left.

I see the massive, teased, blonde hair and flashy clothing and I'm leaving Nikki's side before I can help myself.

Mike's just as happy to see me and I am to see him, the both of us hugging each other tightly before pulling away to examine each other with wide smiles.

He looks incredible.

He's glowing.

He's gained back the weight he lost dramatically after Razzle died, and it's so obvious that he hasn't touched a drink or Drug in months.

He looks at peace.

"You look great." I tell him, looking him up and down.

"I feel great." He replies. "You look..." He starts, examining me similarly.

I look like I've been dragged through hell.

"Like shit." I finish for him and he rolls his eyes.

"Beautiful, Vivian. You've always been beautiful." He argues.

The shining of a silver band around his left ring finger catches my eye, despite multiple rings decorating his hands.

"Now, I've heard about this." I take his hand and look at the wedding band and he gets giddy. "But I have yet to even see her."

He's pulling his wallet out of his pocket and pulling a picture out, showing me a photo of a woman with dark hair, arched brows, who's no-bullshit demeanor is practically jumping out of the picture.

Jude Wilder had been working at CBS when she'd met Michael while working on Hanoi Rocks' project called "Two Steps From The Move."

She was nine years older than him, but that didn't surprise me. Michael's always been nine years ahead of everyone else in maturity, and they were perfect for each other.

They got married in 1985, and were inseparable.

When she died in 2001, after suffering an intracranial hemorrhage, Michael sunk into the excruciatingly low place he sunk to when Razzle died. But in true Mike Monroe fashion, he didn't allow himself to be down very long, threw the drugs out, and was remarried to a gorgeous, sweet, ball of light named Johanna by mid-2003.

"She's gorgeous, Michael." I tell him in admiration, although I know he's never necessarily been into looks as much as he's after a good personality and clear head.

"Thank you. She'll love to hear that." He chuckles, tucking the picture back into his wallet. "Have you seen the other guys here?" He asks me and I raise my brows.

He motions behind me and I see Andy, Sami, and Nasty, talking to Tommy and Nikki.

Nikki beckons for me and I go to them, trying not to be overly motherly upon seeing them, the three of us sharing the same exchange Michael and I did.

Tight hugs, and an invisible thankfulness that they're in a more positive headspace than the last time I saw them.

Well, except one.

Andy's still on heroin. It doesn't take me two seconds to pick up on it and I can tell it's gonna be a priority to keep him and Nikki separated after the show.

I don't need them fueling the fire under each other's spoons.

Sami and Nasty look better than the last time I saw them, which is amazing.

I'm surprised any of the guys want anything to do with us after the thick of their grieving.

"Are you staying for the show?" I ask Andy.

"Absolutely." Andy states, pointing at Nikki. "And I'm showing him around when it's all over."

A protective chord is struck in me, and I'm finding myself having to pull back on the reins before I offend Andy.

Nikki seems to agree, before I shit all over it.

"It's Valentine's Day." I cut in. "I was hoping we could hang out." I look to Nikki.

"You can come with us, babe." He suggests and I try to hide my true emotions about it, but Michael sees through it.

"Oh, c'mon, Nikki. It's Valentines Day." He interjects, picking up on my concern of Andy and Nikki out on the town, binging.

Nikki's pulling a handful of bills out of his pocket before handing it to Michael.

"You take her out, then." He tells him casually, and Michael looks at me, caught off guard, able tell this isn't the first time Nikki's acted like this towards me and it's as if he's saying, "he's like this now?"

"Guys, c'mon, you gotta get dressed." Doc pulls at Nikki and Tommy.

The show goes smoothly, despite a few hiccups and—as predicted—Andy and Nikki are thick as thieves.

I help Nikki get his white and black polka dotted suit off, before he's pulling on his tshirt and jeans, pulling his boots on.

Before I head for the door when he's dressed, he's grasping at my hand and stopping me.

"What is it?" I ask, raising my brows.

"C'mere." He tugs me to him and I chuckle a little. 

"What is it?" I repeat, grinning, and he leans down and presses his lips to mine, sweetly.

"I really wish you would come with me tonight." He tucks some of my hair behind my ear and I shake my head a little.

"Nah, I'll just hangout with Mike."

"No, I wanna hangout with you." He argues lightly.

"You and Andy are gonna be doing things I'm not into." I point out.

"Like what?" He asks.

"You know what." I reply.

"Alright, how about you and Mike come with us so you aren't by yourself?"

"How about you just don't touch heroin?" I suggest and his smile falters, his jaw rolling. I don't even let him say anything else.

I kiss him one last time before trying to sweep whatever argument is brewing, under the rug.

"I'll see you when you get back tonight, Nikki, okay?" I ask and he sighs out.

"Whatever, Viv." He mumbles as I step out.

I find Mike and Tommy telling Nasty and Sami "goodbye", and I step to them, glancing around for Vince, who isn't anywhere to be seen.

It's obvious he's keeping his distance.

"Leaving already?" I ask the two dark haired boys.

"Got to get back home for a bit. We'll see you around, eventually." Nasty tells me, grinning as he squeezes my hand assuringly.

"I'll be meeting Mike back in the states in about a month." Sami adds. "We'll he sure to stop by."

"Okay." I nod, smiling at the both of them. "Be careful, I'll see you later." I them.

"See you, man." Mike tells the two of them, hugging the both of them.

"Big plans tonight, Viv?" Tommy nudges me and I point my thumb in Mike's direction. "What about Nikki?"

"He's married to Andy's dealer tonight." I reply and Mike raises his brows, not saying a word, and Tommy seems like he doesn't quite know how to respond.

"We're outta here!" Andy exclaims, he and Nikki stepping to the exit with Fred escorting them out to their car.

"He's really not spending tonight with you?" Tommy asks me, disappointed, and I raise my brows.

"Are you surprised?"

"..." He says everything with a single look and I nod.

"Exactly." I scoff, going to the dressing room to grab my purse.

Once I get back, Fred is waiting for Mike and I.

"Press talks." Fred warns us right before we step outside.

The paps aren't horrid here like in America, but there's enough here to spin a narrative if they choose.

"So does bullshit." I reply as he opens the car door and I slide in with Mike following me.

"Be careful, guys. I'll see you later, Viv." Fred tells me and I nod before he shuts the door.

Michael looks at me with a smile.

"What now?" He asks me and I shake my head a little.

"Food." I tell him. "And a lot of it."

Although I would have loved to spend the day of love with my husband, spending it with Michael Monroe while stuffing my face with London's very best take-out, was nice.

But there was someone who upstaged Nikki, aside from Mike.

I step into the hotel after dinner with Michael and his wife, carrying my heels in my hands because my feet are killing me, ready to go to sleep.

"Mrs. Sixx, there was a delivery made to your room by your management earlier." The woman at the front desk tells me as I walk by to the elevator.

"Alright, thank you." I reply.

When I get to my room, I unlock the door and I'm met with a large bouquet of classic red roses.

I furrow my brows, knowing they can't be from Nikki, but already know who they can be from when I see two little plastic water guns tucked into the flowers, a bottle of Pepsi and a bag of gummy worms beside them.

I pick up the card and nearly start crying.

"We miss you! Happy V-Day, V!

Love, more than Jack and Marlboro (or Pepsi and gummy worms), Tansy, Steven, Axl, Izzy, Slash, and Duff."

It's etched in Doc's handwriting, and I chuckle at the thought of Doc on the phone with Tansy while she dictates what he writes on a card for flowers she probably begged him to get me before the show ended tonight.

I keep myself from crying, a strong sense of homesickness washing over me.

I pick up the phone, trying to calculate the time difference.

It's 2:00am here, which means it's only 6:00pm in L.A.

I'm dialing their apartment—damning the overseas charge that I know will be billed to us—knowing they're probably getting ready to go out or head to a club for a gig.

"Yo." I hear Steven's voice on the other line.

"Hey, Steven, it's Viv."

"Viv?" He asks excitedly. "Aye, Viv's on the phone!" I hear him say, hearing indistinguishable sentences in the back ground.

"Yeah, I just called to let you guys know I just got back to my room and saw the flowers." I explain, fumbling with the phone chord, sitting down on the bed.

"Do you like 'em?" He asks me and I nod to myself.

"Yes, they're beautiful." I reply.

"Well, Tansy mentioned getting you something for Valentine's Day and she and Duff called the guys' manager and told him some stuff you'd like." He informs me.

"I-Is Duff there?" I ask.

"Uhh, yeah, gimme a second." He tells me. "Duff! Man, it's Viv!" He calls into the apartment. "He's comin', baby." He assures me. "Alright, here he is."

"Bye, I love you." I tell him.

"I love you, too." He replies as I hear the phone being handed off.

"Hello?" Duff answers and I rub my lips together.

"Hey, I know you're probably busy so I wasn't gonna keep you long, I just wanted to say 'thank you' for the flowers and the junkfood I really shouldn't be eating but I'm going to eat anyway." I state and he chuckles.

"I'm just waiting on the guys, and I thought about Coke and potatoe chips but I knew that would be kinda mean so I played it safe." He informs me.

"You don't have a mean bone in your body, Duff." I point out. "Oh, guess who I ate dinner with tonight?"

"Nikki?" He asks and I scoff.

"That's an entire conversation on it's own." I reply. "Michael Monroe and his lovely wife, Jude, took me out to dinner."

"You can't just say it that casually, Viv." He tells me. "You gotta cry tears of joy or something, holy shit."

"Well, I suggest you learn how to keep your cool because him and Sami Yaffa will be visiting L.A. soon and I will be introducing you and the guys, if you're interested."

"Shut up." He says it in disbelief and I smile.

"Guns N' Roses came up during dinner and I may or may not have bragged about one W.Axl Rose, Steven Adler, Izzy Stradlin, Slash Hudson, and Duff McKagan and piqued his interest."

"Shut up!" He says it louder. "Viv, I know it's not a big deal to you because he's one of your friends but...holy shit, Sixx, you didn't have to do that."

"I did, Duff. You guys deserve it." I argue. "You deserve it."

"I fucking love you." He tells me, genuinely. "And I'm not just saying that because you did something nice, like, I can't say 'thank you' enough or tell you how much I love you for being just as enthusiastic as we are and believing in us as much as you have for the past year."

"You guys are great people, Duff. And God's given the five of you incredible musical gifts. It's against my religion not to help expose those gifts to the rest of the world and I know you guys can do it, as much as you guys know you can."

"Thank you, Viv." He tells me again. "And where's Nikki at?" He asks me and I close my eyes for a second, not wanting to say something that will put a damper on his mood.

"He wasn't feeling well so he came back to the hotel while the three of us went to dinner. But he's feeling better now and he's in the shower so we'll spend some time together when he's out." I lie.

"Okay, good. The guys are about ready to go, now, so I'm gonna let you go." He tells me.

"Alright, have fun." I reply, trying to force back tears. "And tell the guys I said 'hey' and that I miss them." I add.

"I will, Viv. Goodnight. I love you." He states, and a tear topples over my lashline, pretending, just for a moment, I'm hearing those words from Nikki.

A sad, broken smile cracks at my lips.

"I love you, too, Duff." I reply. "Goodnight."

I hang up, stepping to the bathroom to take off my makeup and get a shower.

By the time I get out of the shower, I'm so tired my mind practically shuts down the second my head hits the pillow. 

Typically I wouldn't be able to sleep due to being alone, however, I'm not technically alone. 

A loud, startling bang rattles at my door, and I jerk awake, confused for a moment. I glance at the clock, seeing it's only 3:30am, and I roll my eyes, knowing it's Nikki and he probably left his key somewhere.

Without even looking in the peep-hole, I open the door to see a frantic, panicking Andy.

Before this continues, I need to clarify that I understand it isn't anyone else's fault that Nikki did drugs. He had his struggles and demons all without anyone offering him anything to shoot up, snort, swallow down, or drink. He could have easily said "no" to these things, but for some reason just couldn't.

But back then, I knew people knew he couldn't help himself. So no one who could have been considered an enabler was off limits. And Andy was an enabler.

All it takes is for him to say the words "Nikki's in bad trouble" and my face twists, tears toppling from my eyes, an entire wave of emotions rocking through my body, before I'm throwing both of my fists at him.

"Vivian!" He's screaming repeatedly as I'm yelling out nonsense at him, sobbing, weakly hitting him.

Once I've gotten calmed down in a couple minutes, Andy's grabbing at my shoulders, his cheek bleeding from my ring cutting him.

"Get your head clear." He practically has to pull me together for myself.

I'm running down the street from the hotel as fast as my bare feet can take me, Andy leading me to the run-down apartment he and Nikki were hanging out at. 

I walk into to this rat holding a baseball bat of Nikki, about to hit him.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Andy barks at him as I snatch the bat from his hands.

I'm about to hit him with it instead, but Andy's grabbing at me. "Viv, keep your head clear." He tells me again, pulling the bat from my hands and I glare into the sunken in eyes of the stranger, silently promising he'll get his when I get my blue husband awake.

I'm overwhelmed and feel defeated at the sight of him.

Blue, soaking wet from being wet down in an attempt to be woken up, and the deterioration of his body from his use is even more evident in his current state. 

Andy is screaming at the guy for hitting him with a bat instead of continuing to give him mouth to mouth and pumping his chest like Andy had been doing before he came and got me. 

I start CPR, trying to keep my shit together, but I obviously fail.

My stomach cramps like shards of glass are scraping at me. Except it's not my stomach, it's my uterus. 

"Andy." I cry out, keeping my hands on Nikki's chest, but the Finnish rockstar keeps yelling back and forth with the dealer. "Andy." I repeat, louder, but he still doesn't hear me. "Andy!" I'm pleading in a holler, catching his attention. "I-I can't do this, I'm sick, just call an ambulance!" I beg and Andy heads to the phone hanging on the wall. 

"No!" The living dead-rat argues roughly, fear in his pinned eyes as he practically snatches the phone off the wall, refusing to hand it to Andy.

"My husband is dying if not already dead! He needs help!" I argue, sweat beginning to perspire thinly on my skin, my own pain intensifies, my vision starting to blur slightly as I feel hot liquid rush from between my bare legs, and I'm blacking out along with Nikki. 

#nikki sixx #vince neil #tommy lee #mötley crüe #the dirt #gateway drug

[punkscowardschampions]

Jac & Amelia

Jac: How was your first day? Amelia: 🥱😴 Amelia: What about you? Jac: Oh dear, it was a lot more observing rather than doing I suppose, but I kind of expected that, if you want to get experience somewhere that isn't willing to just let anyone come in and do a shift so Jac: You'll never guess who was on my placement too though Amelia: Connor following you there wouldn't surprise me Amelia: he can't take a hint Jac: Thankfully not Jac: Swerving him during school is basically an extra-curricular Jac: I suppose it isn't all that surprising when you think about it, but I still was taken aback by the turn of events Amelia: thrill me Amelia: who is it? Jac: Savannah Moore Amelia: oh god, that sucks Amelia: if you don't wanna change placements, we'll make her Amelia: it'll be okay Jac: That's the surprising thing Jac: she was like, a different person Amelia: like really fake, you mean? Jac: No, like, a normal person Jac: maybe because she was away from her friends, her audience, or I don't know Jac: but she was just getting on with her work too, being chill about the whole thing Amelia: 🤔 suspicious Jac: Well, you can't say anything Jac: but why would you Jac: she's having like, a really hard time at home right now, she was a bit upset at one point Jac: it just broke the ice, and it makes a lot of things make sense Amelia: did it or did she throw you off with a convincing 😥💔 story? Jac: She was having a breakdown in the toilets basically Jac: I don't think she wanted anyone to see that, least of all me Jac: we knew her dad was like A LOT anyway, it tracks Amelia: it's Savannah, she wants everyone to see everything, especially you Jac: Come on, what would she even get out of tricking me with a sobstory Jac: bar work experience not being a total drama, which surely she'd love more, by that logic? Amelia: your attention Jac: 🤔🤔 I just don't see it this time Jac: I can't explain how sincere it was, what she said Jac: it definitely wasn't made up, at any rate Amelia: if you believe her, I believe you Jac: Like, I'm not saying we were wrong Jac: but too harsh, maybe Jac: we don't need to waste any energy on being her enemy or whatever Jac: not that we were ever THAT childish but, she really isn't that bad Amelia: I can be a bit harsh Jac: You're a softie, really Jac: but I'm not going to spill all your secrets to her Amelia: it's not a secret that I missed you today Jac: Was it seriously that boring? 😞 Jac: Who are you with again, anyone not awful? Amelia: yeah Amelia: my 🧠 has turned to mush Amelia: they put with with Valentina Hernández, I've had detention with her before Jac: You poor thing Jac: we'll have to do something fun when this is over, if you're going to hate it so much Jac: and I'll keep to a minimum how much I'm enjoying getting some industry experience 🤐 Jac: Oh yeah, she's cute Jac: I don't have many classes with her, but I know who you mean Amelia: she said I look like her ex, do you think that means she hates me or I'm her eye candy of choice for the next week? Amelia: can't we do something fun tonight!? Jac: How weird Jac: sounds like a really bad pickup-line a 40-year-old man would use Jac: Guess you'll see what she meant Jac: That's not going to make your early start tomorrow any easier, is it Amelia: I'm already planning to sleep through my alarm Amelia: and Is is up for it Jac: I'm totally wiped Jac: and trying to save you from yourself 😉 Jac: Is can make her own poor choices Amelia: vodka redbulls were invented to change wiped to wired Amelia: you know she'll get drunk and throw herself at some boy, that's what you'll be saving me from Amelia: dark corners are no fun when I'm being left in them on my own Jac: so I can be hungover tomorrow Jac: if she is tricking me, I'm going to need ALL my wits about me Jac: maybe Val will come and keep you company Amelia: and if she's as nice as you say, she can pick up the slack Amelia: please come Jac: Are we talking about a house party or a club or what, you've not even told me 😅 Jac: also, you know I don't want to drop anything, I need to ace this Amelia: it's a club you'll love Amelia: so you won't have to drink loads to have fun anyway Jac: If Is or any of her conquests have picked it I SO doubt that 😏 Amelia: I picked it in case you needed cheering up but it works for a pat on the back too Jac: Okay, I'll see what the parents say Amelia: if they look like they're leaning towards no, it could've been me having a breakdown in the toilets Jac: I'll tell them you'll be heartbroken Amelia: the truth works too Jac: they're not that understanding so I wouldn't hold your breath Jac: I'll corner one of them when they get in though Amelia: more understanding than mine, not to be Savannah-ish about it Jac: I assume you will be sneaking out, as per Jac: or staying over one of ours to catch up with your work Amelia: 😏 Jac: 🙄 how you ever get away with it when your mother knows everything about everyone is beyond me Jac: if you applied yourself, you could be seriously impressive Amelia: could be? Amelia: you just said I am Amelia: she knows everything about me that I want her to know Jac: duh Jac: gotta give you something to aim for though Amelia: oooh a challenge Jac: I know how you feel about them Amelia: unless it's going to be something about applying myself this week Jac: am I a teacher? Amelia: you've taught me loads like why would I waste my energy buckling down with Valentina 📠 when I could spend it doing something that isn't 🥱😴 with you Jac: You have a point Jac: or, I do? 😂 Jac: and I can come out for a while, but I need to be home to get at least 5 hours sleep minimum Amelia: can I stay or does Jude still need 15 hours minimum? Jac: if you keep the noise down and promise to talk less than her Amelia: I'll be so 🤫🤐 Jac: another person at mine in the AM makes no odds Jac: but I will be leaving extra early, FYI Amelia: why? Jac: Mainly because I want to get there on time Jac: but also because Savannah said she'd bring breakfast, as I listened to her when she was upset today so Amelia: bribery is her style 🤑 Jac: I guess so Jac: but it'd be rude of me not to accept any coffee or pastries she wants to throw my way Amelia: what if they're toxic Jac: You're giving her too much credit now Jac: she isn't going to have the time to poison them AND not be late Amelia: she's probably baking them right now, what else are her and her invisible mum going to do to bond? Jac: You're the one that takes home ec 🍳 Amelia: yeah and if you wanted me to kill her, all you had to do was ask Jac: Feel free to note my silence any time you like 😏 Jac: What are you wearing, how smart/casual is this place? Amelia: [pictures of potential outfits on the bed so she can see the vibe] Amelia: which one will you break your vow of silence for? Jac: You know I love that colour [hi khaki moment] Amelia: 😉 Amelia: if you want to know what Is is wearing, the group chat is full of her maybes Jac: I am purposely ignoring that notification 🙄😑 Jac: like yeah, I'm probably going to wear my black tank dress again but the difference is, I'm not pretending it's getting any crazier Amelia: it got her to shut up about all the 'hotties' at the sports centre that she got to 'service' today Amelia: 😣 Jac: Ew Jac: she's so graphic sometimes Jac: it's a good thing she has her reputation tbh if those are her lines Amelia: this is before a drink too Amelia: I need you, I wasn't even laying it on thick Jac: God, she is a lot Jac: hopefully one of them asks her out, she's at least less gross when she's in a relationship Amelia: 🤞 Jac: I do need to plan my outfits for the rest of work experience though Amelia: god, I can imagine what Savannah looked like today Jac: Right? Jac: She was so on point Amelia: for a stepford wife Amelia: it's unsettling Amelia: her mum probably stays invisible because she takes the clothes off her back Jac: Come on, she looks good Amelia: so would I in head to toe chanel Jac: Exactly Jac: so I need to keep up so I don't look like a scrub Amelia: you don't have to try as hard as her, that's the difference Amelia: you actually look good Amelia: not just expensive Jac: You're biased but I love you for it Amelia: you could ask anyone in our year and they'd tell you the same thing Amelia: even her boyfriend would probably want to agree with me Jac: I doubt his eyes ever leave her, they're totally inseparable aren't they Amelia: it sounds like you'll be getting all the gossip Amelia: you'll be able to tell me everything by Friday Jac: not that that has any real use now Amelia: maybe or maybe not Jac: ?? Amelia: we've got loads of school left, you can't say never Amelia: today could've been a weird fluke Jac: Nah, it was a total ceasefire if nothing else Jac: it's not like a feud Jac: Oh my God, what is that skirt she just posted Amelia: okay Amelia: 😳 on her behalf Jac: should I tell her to wear it? Amelia: yeah 😂 Jac: 😏 Amelia: what are you wearing though? Jac: my lbd 😂 Jac: I don't know if it's classic or predictable but if nothing else, I can say this was short notice Amelia: if I couldn't predict you I'd be worried Jac: but you love a challenge 🤔 Amelia: but I love the way things are Jac: see, so soft and soppy Jac: nothing has changed yet Jac: still think transition year is pointless 🤷 Amelia: your 🧠 didn't turn to mush Jac: it might Jac: I just wanna pick all our new classes and get started Jac: but it is cool we get to do stuff like this, I suppose Amelia: you just want to find out if Savannah will be in every single class again Jac: 🙄 Amelia: [like I'm gonna say she was joking then but now the posts have appeared so it's like oh you actually do and she leaves her on read which I cannot overstate how much that would NEVER happen because she always answers immediately no matter what] Jac: Hello? Jac: are you picking me up? Amelia: are you ready? Jac: you aren't talking to Isabelle Jac: of course I am Amelia: nothing she's saying needs a reply Jac: 'Fashionably' late is her vibe Amelia: yeah I know, Is hasn't changed since I met her Jac: Like that's a good thing? Amelia: I wouldn't go as far as to call her perfect or anything Amelia: but at least I get her Jac: Funny, Meels Amelia: like totally weird, that kind of funny Jac: You are being weird Amelia: that isn't even a worthy deflection Jac: What do you wanna say? Jac: It's just a post Amelia: I've never heard you describe anything as perfect, what are you saying? Jac: Did you see her post? Amelia: yeah, it's obvious why you're tired Amelia: I was exhausted reading it Jac: Well I couldn't just say nothing in return, could I Amelia: I never caption anything, it's easy Jac: you're a girl of few words Amelia: why does she think she knows you on such a 'deep level' now? Amelia: you said she was the one who overshared Jac: You know her friends Jac: Paige G and Becca Jac: I doubt they do 'deep' Jac: it's just in comparison Amelia: I know you, there's things you aren't telling me Jac: like what, I told her all my secrets Jac: if you know me then you know there's no way that's true Amelia: then you're keeping hers Jac: No I'm not, I told you, it's her home life Jac: and I'm sure she doesn't want everyone to know so I shouldn't but I did Amelia: okay Jac: You don't like her, you don't have to Jac: but don't be off with me Amelia: neither did you yesterday Amelia: but now you're going to [whatever that market location was] together Jac: She needed cheering up Jac: and I was going to go anyway, my last bouquet was dead Jac: it's not a big deal Amelia: it was so chill you weren't going to say anything before she outted you with a post Amelia: obviously Jac: I didn't say anything 'cos I didn't think you'd be bothered Jac: it's not your thing Amelia: right, why would it be news that you've changed your entire POV on Savannah Moore Jac: Well I told you about that Jac: scroll up Amelia: it's one thing putting up with someone during work experience, which is what you said Amelia: do you see me taking Valentina out when we're allowed to leave? No, because it'd be totally weird Jac: Why would that be weird? Amelia: we're not friends, I barely know her Jac: you're free to get to know her Jac: you may as well Jac: like I said, it's totally childish having some kind of grudge against her Amelia: it's too late to invite them both Jac: so you want to? Amelia: no, but you think I'm being childish Jac: I think it would be childish for me to decline this peace offering Jac: if it makes life easier, it'd be stupid not to Amelia: I don't see how it'll make anything easier if she's going to be that extra Amelia: Is is already a lot Jac: I can deal with them both Amelia: okay Jac: You don't need to be jealous Amelia: of her? oh please Jac: right Amelia: she's not the only one who has had a bad day, that's all Jac: what's wrong? Amelia: I got in trouble, they might not even have me back tomorrow Jac: What did you do? Amelia: nothing! It wasn't my fault Jac: Alright, what happened then Amelia: I didn't think it would crash the whole system, I was just trying to get done quicker Jac: Oh God Meels Amelia: it would've been impressive if it had worked Jac: they can't get rid of you for a mistake Jac: just be really, really sorry, yeah Amelia: I am sorry, it was really 😳 Jac: I bet Jac: you won't do it again Jac: did she tell you to Amelia: who would tell me to do that Jac: You said she was your detention buddy Amelia: no I didn't, I said I've seen her there before Amelia: everyone gets detention except you and Savannah Jac: Hardly Jac: well, you could say it was her idea Amelia: you've been having a go at me for being childish Jac: you'll be in so much shit if they refuse to have you back Amelia: I'll go work with my dad or something, it'll be even more boring but it's only a week anyway Jac: it'll still reflect really badly on you Jac: it's not childish, it's practical Amelia: it was an accident, I won't be the only one who's done something stupid Jac: Yeah, but you said they were arsey about it so Jac: just saying Amelia: maybe I was a bit defensive Amelia: don't worry about it Jac: Hmm Amelia: I'll smooth it over Jac: Good luck then Amelia: trust me Jac: You always end up alright Amelia: you're my lucky charm Amelia: I just ask myself wwjd Jac: You're such a loser 😏 Amelia: you're so cruel to me 💔 Jac: You love it Amelia: I love you Jac: I love you too Amelia: are you coming out or am I coming in? Jac: You'll just get waylaid by dogs and siblings Jac: be right out Amelia: the hair isn't an accessory I should wear to the club Jac: I've not done anything with mine, don't judge Amelia: it always looks perfect whatever you do or don't do Jac: 😘 Amelia: if you're going to use that word, at least throw it in the right direction Jac: oh yeah, that's a caption I wanna write 😂 Amelia: I'll write it for you, if anything's worth breaking the rules for Jac: You want to compete with Savannah's word count? Amelia: I don't want to, but I will if I have to Jac: I'm not that desperate for validation, you're okay Amelia: Isabelle meanwhile Amelia: has NOT shut up Jac: It's a wonder anyone is getting past her on reception Amelia: 😂 Jac: maybe she should ask if she can work the door when she finally shows Jac: [you go out now though gal, don't need to be messing about] Amelia: [go forth and be messy gays at this club instead] Jac: [no wonder, the tension henny] Amelia: [all the useless lesbian awards to amelia for not making a move tonight] Jac: [blink and you miss it babe] Amelia: [literally does not think she's running out of time, soz gal] Jac: [oh it's sad[ Amelia: [it is, we've been doing this dance for years ladies, obvs we think we'll just keep doing it until uni forces us to stop and do something else and at that point that's years away still] Jac: [when you think you got another three years to have gay angst and drama, nay nay] Amelia: [mhmm] Jac: [well, a different kind of angst and drama will be happening but nobody is loving that Amelia: [except me haha]

[fourteenacross]

For the ghosthunters prompts (this is from A Softer World): I think I've got fireflies where my caution should be (instead of slowing down, I just shine brighter)

Everything at the exorcism is going fine until it’s not.

Herc’s muttering incantations and Laf’s drawing runes on the ground and Burr’s burning different combinations of chemicals and Alex is ordering everyone around and it’s the sort of chaos that’s really business as usual. Until John turns and sees a second entity, or at least a second shape. It’s inching along the wall, a shadow of a shadow on the clear opposite side of the room from the spirit they’ve cornered for their ritual. It’s moving towards their electrical set-up and John doesn’t pause to think. He jumps out of the ring of salt spread on the ground, the one protecting them from harm. He runs for their set-up, another container of salt already in his hand because they don’t need that equipment to finish this, sure, but all that data…he can’t just watch as they lose all that data.

It doesn’t help that it’s lab equipment—any damage comes out of their paychecks, and they really can’t spare a thousand dollars in repairs.

Of course, his movement catches the attention of both of the spirits in the room. It’s a race to the equipment and John shakes a salt circle around it as quickly as he can manage. He miscalculates and there’s not enough to finish so he drops to his knees just as the shadows are converging on him and spreads the salt he’s already poured out, using his fingers to connect either open edge of the circle just in time. There’s not really enough space for him to move around, the circle is so tight, and with Herc shouting, now, and Laf muttering to himself and the unearthly wind whipping through the room, it’s not until the lights flicker again and the spirits are gone for good that John manages to get his bearings again.

The room is quiet in the aftermath of the exorcism, and John groans a little as he pushes himself to his feet, resting his weight on the audio mixer to steady himself. He hears Herc mutter a curse and Laf let out a long sigh and finally turns around again.

“You’re a fucking maniac, Laurens, you know that?” Herc says, stretching and rolling his shoulders.

“We’ve been staking this house out for three days, there’s no goddamn way I’m letting us lose all that data, especially not when it’s on a thousand bucks worth of lab equpiment,” John says with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, good job, man,” Herc says.

John wipes his palms on his thighs and looks up again to see what needs to be done to start packing up. His eyes fall immediately on Alex and he freezes.

Alex’s complexion has gone pale and grey, his eyes wide, his hands wrapped in fists around the recorder in his hand, so tight that his knuckles are white.

“Alex?” he asks softly.

“Laurens! Help me get these cameras down!” Herc calls over from the corner. John turns automatically to look at him, and when he turns back to Alex, he’s already directed his attention elsewhere, bent over a box and packing away equipment.

He brushes off the encounter and helps Herc with the cameras. He nearly forgets about it entirely as they load all of their equipment into Herc’s van and then go their separate ways home for the evening—Herc back to his apartment, Burr to campus, Laf to their apartment in his car, and John and Alex in John’s. He’s exhausted—they’re all exhausted, he’s sure. It’s late, they have work and class and paperwork waiting for them in the morning, and exorcisms always zap all his energy.

If Alex is quieter than usual, he doesn’t think much about it as they come inside and go through the motions of getting ready for bed. He’s a little confused when Alex climbs into bed after him, spooning up against his back, but while it’s uncommon for Alex to go to bed at the same time he does, it’s not unprecedented.

“I love you,” Alex whispers fiercely against the back of his neck.

“I love you too,” John says around a yawn. He wants to ask if something’s wrong—there was an edge to Alex’s tone, a frenetic energy that seemed out of place whispered in their bed as they curled up to sleep for the night. John is tired, though, and his brain is already full of a running tally of what he has to do in the morning. He’ll ask Alex about it in the morning, if he remembers. If he doesn’t…well, Alex isn’t one to hide his feelings away. If it’s important, he’ll bring it up.

*

John’s not normally the type to wake up in the middle of the night, especially since his jam-packed first semester at Morristown when he learned to wring every second of sleep he could out of a day. Something wakes him tonight, though, pulls him right out of a heavy slumber. He would have rolled over and gone right back to sleep, but he sleepily realizes the bed next to him is cold and, for whatever reason, that startles him awake. It doesn’t make any sense—he goes to sleep without Alex far more nights than he goes to sleep with him. Being alone in bed shouldn’t be enough to worry him. Something about the absence gets under his skin, though, and he sits up and rubs his eyes and stretches.

Alex isn’t in their bedroom, and after a moment of silent, internal battle, John slips out of bed to look for him elsewhere. There’s always a chance he’s gone for a walk or up to the roof; sometimes when he’s blocked on an article, a change of scene clears his head. Alex hasn’t left, though—he’s sitting crosslegged on the couch with the afghan from the foot of their bed wrapped around his shoulders. He’s not reading or writing or looking at his computer or tablet. He’s not doing anything, really, except staring into space and weaving his fingers in and out of the holes in the crochet pattern of the blanket. He doesn’t stop, even when John sits down at the other end of the couch.

“Hey,” John says.

“Hi,” Alex says. His gaze shifts slowly until he’s looking at John. The bags under his eyes are even larger than usual.

“Is something wrong?” John asks. “Did you have a nightmare?” Alex’s occasional nightmares have a routine, now, one that usually involves John reading to him or talking to him or, when he’s particularly jittery, driving him around the neighborhood in the middle of the night. Alex rarely tries to deal with them on his own any longer, and John’s a little hurt that he’s reverted back to that now.

But, no. Alex shakes his head and pulls the blanket more tightly around his shoulders. “Didn’t sleep long enough for nightmares,” he says. “At least, not the dream kind.”

John pinches the bridge of his nose. “Babe, it’s three in the morning. Please spare me the brain cells and just say what you mean? You’re usually so good at that.”

“You’re reckless,” is what Alex says.

John blinks at him. “Yyyyyes?” He waits for further elaboration. He’s well aware that reckless is probably in the top five mostly frequently used words to describe him.

“I just—I guess I’ve never thought about it before? Not really. I mean, of course I’ve thought about it—I’m fucking terrified of losing you, so I’ve thought about it, but seeing it tonight. It was different.”

John blinks again. “Alex—”

“You,” Alex explains before John can continue. “You just…leapt out of the salt circle. We were in a twelve by twelve room, there was nowhere to go and two entities in our space and one of them had already been violent and you just—leapt out. To save fucking equipment.”

“We were borrowing it from the lab,” John says automatically. “Damage comes out of our pay. Plus, three days of—”

“—data, I know,” Alex says. He waves his hand dismissively at John. “I don’t care. I don’t care about data, I don’t care about equipment. I care about watching you fucking jump into danger, watching two spirits converge on you, watching you drop to your goddamn knees in the middle of a exorcism like something was sucking the life out of you—”

John replays the scene in his head again and again and then says, “No, I was kneeling to fix the circle, they hadn't—”

“I know that now,” Alex says. It’s more like a hiss, something soft and sharp and ripped out of him. “Standing in that goddamn room and watching you drop from sight—I had no fucking idea what had happened but it felt like my fucking heart had been ripped out of my chest. I couldn’t breathe.”

John remembers the look on Alex’s face in the aftermath, the way he had gone grey and shocked, the way he stared.

“I….” John struggles for a response. What can he possibly say to that? He shifts on the couch and pulls his knees up to his chest. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s not—” Alex sighs sharply and covers his face with his hands. “I know that about you, right? I love that about you. That you’re just—that you just throw yourself into things. And…I don’t know, there’s a line, I guess. A line between doing things that are gutsy and doing things that are going to get you killed.”

John doesn’t know how to tell him that line is invisible if you don’t care whether you live or die.

“I don’t…think about things like that in the moment,” he says, which isn’t a lie. “I just…I react.”

“I know,” Alex says. He runs his hands through his hair. “It’s just…it’s like you’re missing the part of you that knows the meaning of the word ‘caution.’” He laughs a little. “God, I’m a fucking hypocrite.”

John wants to tell Alex that he’s not a hypocrite—that his recklessness and Alex’s are two different animals. He wants to tell him that there is something wrong with him, that these dangerous things happen and a part of him lights up like a beacon, like a shooting star. Something in him is activated by that danger, something that knows because he doesn’t care what happens to him, it’s his duty to do the things that no one else will.

But, god, that’s a conversation he doesn’t know that he can have. He can’t handle the inevitable look on Alex’s face while he tries to describe the difference between wanting to die and not caring enough to keep living. He definitely can’t handle it at three in the morning.

“I’m sorry,” he says again instead. “And I get it. Because this is a really fucking dangerous field we’re in and I feel the same way every time you do something stupid. But I can’t promise it won’t happen again anymore than I could ask you to promise me the same thing.”

“I know,” Alex says. “I just—I keep seeing it every time I close my eyes.”

They sit in silence for a moment. John finally gives in and crawls across the couch until he’s close enough to touch Alex. He holds back until he sees Alex’s shoulders droop and takes that as the invitation to touch, to wrap his arms around Alex’s shoulders and pull him against his chest.

“I’m here,” John says, because the only other option is to say I’m sorry for a third time.

“Yeah,” Alex says, tucking his face into the curve of John’s neck.

“And,” he adds after a moment, “not for nothing, but it’s your project about time-disturbance correlation that we were collecting data for, so I basically saved your ass from Adams.”

Alex’s body shakes with something between a groan and a laugh.

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

“Yeah,” John says.

“Next time I’m gonna let a ghost suck the life out of you.”

“No you’re not,” John says, biting back a grin.

“No, I’m not,” Alex agrees.

And they really should go back to bed, but if they’re already up, there’s no harm staying here for a few more minutes, sitting close and quiet in the peace of the early morning.

#hamilton #john laurens #alexander hamilton #lams #the redacted boys #fic by me #they call themselves the trash of the thing