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selfcreatedinsanity · 3 months

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I remember it all

well not all of it... there is a lot I do not remember

but I remember enough

and vividly... too vividly

insofar when I remember I want to tear my heart out

blaming it for being the culprit

but apparently it is not my heart

apparently it is my brain tricking me

I remember it all

but not quite

three months of suffering believing that I was worthless

genuinely wishing for death

seeking death

and feeling awful (in theory) that I could not feel bad for hurting those who love me

feeling terrified (in theory) that my numbness is not depression but in fact proof that I am a horrible person and do not care about anyone

sitting on the toilet, scrolling for as long as possible, sick to my stomach realizing that I have to live with myself my entire life

sick to my stomach that myself would like to make that entire life short

i remember it all

but not quite

or what I do remember is distorted from my skewed sense of reality

i remember feeling euphoric

feeling so good I could almost laugh at my old self for crying and wanting to die just because thinking of the work it takes to get ready in the morning is too much for one day

despite that being me less than a month ago

I felt so foolish

how was i even struggling? life is so easy and beautiful. you just wake up excited for each day and do every activity you can think of and realize you have more energy and best utilize it while you can what if one day you feel like that loser from a month ago again

but suddenly the sun on my skin is actually the eyes of concerned strangers, acquaintances, friends, and family

suddenly everyone is talking behind my back to each other about how to cope with me and if they should call an ambulance on me

i dont understand

just a month ago for three months i wanted to die

i wanted to die every day

almost every moment was filled with all of the reasons I needed to leave this life and each moment i spent immobilized by it i had even more ammo against myself

I spent hour after hour scouring the internet for ways to die

painfully hating myself for not being strong enough to do it

i am happy to be alive now. i am excited. i am scared.

I do not understand what I am doing wrong. Everything feels ok. I felt so awful before please please do not take me away now just when life is feeling good

no you don't understand

you see when I was on the way to the hospital january 2023

you see I knew I had wanted to die for quite some time then

long enough it did not feel like a big deal

and long enough that the shocked faces of my loved ones when they confirmed that barely even stabbed me in the gut

or it did but i did not feel it then

i do now

all the time

but you see i had fears when i was going to the hospital

one being i am not even truly that depressed this is just a lie i am wasting resources

not realizing the sweet irony of how that entire sentence could basically get you diagnosed

but while i stood there in front of my mom, dad, and sister - who would do anything for me

(my brother as well but he is far away you see)

I told them that I am scared

I do not want to lose my autonomy

I do not want to lose my freedom

I have learned enough things in my humanities courses to know the pscyh ward is a scary place to be even when it is the right spot to be

and my visit ended up ok

it was odd and scary but it was ok

but you see the scary part was when I was in there when I was manic as opposed to depressed

at the time no one really would update me or tell me what was going on

I know I was not very receptive at the time but I sure would have been less scared if people talked to me before giving me meds that if I refuse I get them injected to me instead

I am not an aggressive person

even in my most scary moment of life so far I was not that aggressive

you see

being in there gets at you

I knew i was viewed as crazy, I knew I was missing seeing some of my crazy, but I also knew they were seeing more crazy than there was

and I think the part that hurts me most is

either way why could I not be treated like a human?

I just had too much and I was so sick of taking medication I did not even understand and having psychiatrists looking at me, barely asking me anything or interacting with me, and form threeing me

and so I refused my medication

and so a dainty upstairs nurse entered the psych ward with her needle and three security guards

and even though I had truly lost my mind in this moment (my bet for at fault/contributors is 3% me, 47% mania, and 50% that fucking hell hole)

I still somehow knew to say - while yelling in ways I did not even know possible

I am not going to hurt you I am not going to hurt you

I said to the protected nurse with the needle - the psych ward princess

but I am going to bash my fucking head into this floor if that needle comes anywhere near me

I proclaimed as I laid on the floor, terrified because I felt again I had no control over my legs - something while possibly an impact from mental distress still would have been cool to talk to a doctor about

as the special bed with railings rolled up to me

so that I could be strapped down

but I complied once I was on the bed

and I got my needle and was so very kind and sweet to the psych ward princess

and while I stayed in my room, locked away, while everyone waited for the meds to kick in, hoping I would just fall asleep and leave them the fuck alone for a while

I felt even more rage

seeing how a place can drive you crazy and they strap you down for it

that my word had no power and I had to wait for others to decide that I was ok

that I was not even a contributing voice on the council of my fucking life - even if not majority vote... are you fucking serious?

so I could not breathe

so I rammed my body against the window over and over and over

knowing it would not break but I do not care

I do not feel

I just need out

there is no logic

there is no logic here

everyone here has no logic why the fuck is only my voice deemed illogical

and i punched the window

and i still could not breathe

and i was pounding on the door

and no one would open it

so i pressed the help button in the bathroom even though I knew they were all watching me from the security camera like it was a damn movie

and was met with a nurse

i said i need medical assistance

she said you did that yourself

i said you seriously think i wanted to do that? you seriously think I did that on purpose ?

but I am not talking about that I am talking about the injuries and concerns I have had about my legs since getting here... not the self inflicted ones deemed unimportant/deserved

what even is the fucking point of showing my humanity to them

it will not remain

so now here I am

you see

I remember it all

but not quite

but everything I do remember tears me apart

and destroys any sense of self or instinct or trust in intuition i have rebuilt

all while living in a world i have simultaneously lost hope in and found the true beauty of

i have to rebuild myself

but never get too comfortable

if i feel good i better make sure i do not feel too good

but how will i ever know

because when i am worthless it is my truth

and when i feel as light as a goddess must it is also my truth

and when i am screaming on the hospital floor it is also my truth

it is all my truth

and it breaks my heart

and it breaks my heart that it breaks the heart of my loved ones

i remember it all

you see

i really wish i did not

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shutupdia · 1 year

Note

Hello, sorry for being a stranger on the internet sticking me nose were i wasn't called but I really really hope you're ok?

Idk what's going on that makes you feel that way but from experience, that kind of feelings usually come and go, which is to say, any reason to hang in there longer is a GREAT reason, to still be here when things do get better. It doesn't even have to be a pretty or poetic reason, it can be just to be petty, to see if your fav media gets more content, to live and have one extra story to tell when we do die in case there's something more to afterlife after all.

Because eventually we will die, yeah, no getting around that, and if we'll have forever from then to be dead, why not see life through while we're here, in the big scheme of things we're here for a very short time. It's a weird one in a lifetime limited experience, sometimes harsh, sometimes beautiful, ridiculous almost all the time.

And even tho we don't know each other, I'd be very happy and grateful if you stuck around and I'm sure I'm not the only one 🌻

Sorry for the long and kinda awkward ask, and sorry if I assumed, overreacted or missed the mark (but if it was serious and you were looking for any signal to keep going then this is it), I hope you're doing well regardless and if you're not I hope things get better very soon.

- 🌻🌻🌻

Oh god man this made me really happy to wake up and read. My mental stability is really bad atm so i apologize im just djfjfndn i don't know what to do

0 notes

bunnygirlskull · 2 years

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i was tagged by @bunnygirlbutta What was your last…

Beverage: some apple juice

Phone call: my mom

Text message: chatting with friends about vr games and stuff

Song you listened to: the silent comedy - moonshine

Time you cried: your guess is as good as mine lol

Have you ever…

Dated someone twice? No and not gonna happen

Kissed someone and regretted it? No

Lost someone special? Yeah but good riddance

Been depressed? Im depressed right now but that doesn't mean i cant be happy :3

Been drunk and threw up? only once

In the last year, have you…

…made a new friend? a fair bunch and its super surprising seeing that so many people wanna just chat

…fallen out of love? nah, i haven't been looking or trying

…laughed until you cried? fairly regularly because i tell horrible jokes that make people laugh and i laugh because i managed to make them laugh with bad jokes

…found out who your true friends are? i've always know pretty well

…found out someone was talking about you? no idea but i wouldn't be too surprised. the bigger you get on the internet the more immediately subject you are to criticizes and hypothesizes

General

How many people on your fb list do you know in real life? i opened one up in middleschool, used it for three days, and then never used it again. I have no patience for that brain rot.

List 3 of your favourite colours: Red, mint, and the specific kind of dark green that the underside of treelines get when its raining heavy

What was your first…

…surgery? never had one

…piercing? never had one, but i want to get industrials in both my ears

…best friend? i have a friend that im still friends with that i was litterally was friends with him when he was an infant and i was 3 years old

…sport you joined? karate but by force

…vacation? probably visiting family in brasil

…pair of trainers? idk probably super early on like 3 or 4 just cause a kids gotta have shoes to run around in

Right now, what are you…

…eating? nothing, but i wanna snack on some protein bars

…drinking? nothing but im gonna get some apple juice and add caffiene to it

…about to do? add caffiene powder to juice uwu

Your future

Do you want kids? absolutely, i wanna be a mom and take care of kids. like full stop, no cutting corners, no having my wife do most of the work, just me being a full on mom.

Do you want to get married? also absolutely, but idk what i want in a partner atm so im not looking around either. like i know the over arching things, but im not sure what would draw me into a person

Ideal career? psychiatric doctor or endocrinologist

Which do you think is better…

…lips or eyes? i really cant pick, cause on one hand i love shapely and soft lips, but on the other hand girls with big doe eyes are very nice

…hugs or kisses? kisses <3

…shorter or taller? i like short girls, but i wont say no to a tall girl

…older or younger? im fine with either, but i do have a lower limit of 3 years my current age

…romantic or spontaneous? im not sure, but i know i am a very tender and romantic person

…nice stomach or nice arms? i am an enjoyer of girls with soft stomachs yes

…sensitive or loud? sensitive

…hook up or relationship? relationship, i like tender and soft love

…trouble maker or hesitant? which ever is more fun in the moment i guess

Have you ever…

…kissed a stranger? if i don't know you and you try to kiss me i will stab you

…drank hard liquor? girl i nurse pints of jaeger from time to time

…lost glasses/contacts? nope

…had sex on the first date? no

…broken someone’s heart? yes

…been arrested? no

…turned someone down? yes

…cried when someone died? not yet but i did cry when my dog died

Do you believe in…

…yourself? yes

…miracles? yes

…love at first sight? no

…heaven? not sure

…Santa Claus? nope

…kiss on the first date? its innocent enough, but i gotta vibe right

…angels? not in any traditional sense, but people who are capable of higher acts of kindness sure

idk who to tag so anyone who wants to go ahead 🐰💖🐰

#tag game

0 notes

taechaos · 3 years

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A Thriller Film

pairing: director!Jungkook x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere, smut

synopsis: Jungkook's life is his movies, but people don't know his movies are his life. As an anonymous director, no one can suspect him as the villain in a story, but he leaves a clue in his movie about you.

warnings: smoking, stalking, murder, solo masturbation, public fingering

word count: 5.4k

a/n: i don't know why i put so much effort into this but we love to see it flop 🥰

Smoking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Jungkook noticed you for the first time when a cigarette was hanging off his lips, exhaling the stress from the process of organizing a new thriller film with a less than cooperative crew. Fresh out of high school, you were bright and skipping on the sidewalk in the early hours of the morning. What would such a young woman, applying for colleges left and right, be so happy about?

He didn't know you at the time, but looking at you was like a breath of fresh air. While he survived off of coffee and nicotine, you seemed to have a lot of happiness to share. Your smile was incompatible with his frown.

So he ignored you when you passed him with your earphones blasting a song so loud, he involuntarily caught the lyrics.

Fall... back... in... to... place.

The second time he saw you, he was smoking again and you were just as happy as the day before. How can someone be so in tune with themselves, with life? The same song played from your earphones, the one he listened to on repeat after searching up the lyrics: Space Song. An urge to approach you surged up in him, but he only watched you as you walked past him. A single glance from you was all it took to anticipate tomorrow.

Today, when he recognizes you from your clothing first; colorful, silky, gorgeous. So much personality in one outfit, a polar opposite to his casual black outfit in jeans and a plain shirt. Even your bag is eye-catching, and he flicked the ash off of his cigarette before nodding at you as you passed the bus stop, reaching the front of his studio.

Why did your eyes just widen? You acknowledge him with a friendly smile, and go on your merry way. That is until he lightly taps your shoulder, and you turn instantly.

"Hey," he greets before you can utter a word, "where are you always rushing off to?"

Your lips part in surprise; the man you secretly - guiltily - side-eyed for the past few days noticed you when you weren't looking? "I have an interview. Well, a few," you chuckle.

"For what?" he tilts his head curiously and takes another drag from his stick.

"Career counseling," you plainly reply, but it sounds enthused. "I'm a clueless graduate." Your hands clutch your tote bag before you discreetly check the time on your wrist. You're going to be running late soon.

"You interested in cinematography?" Smoke follows his words, but you aren't fazed.

"I'm interested in all forms of art, why?"

He notices you checking your watch again. "I'm a film director. This is my studio," he cranes his neck behind him. "You can apply for an internship here. Maybe for a stylist even," he points at your floral romper with his chin as his eyes trail.

You shift your weight on your left foot when his stare flusters you, and you consider his flattering suggestion for only a second before saying, "thank you for the offer, but I need to go now," you grimace sheepishly, "can I think about it?"

"Take your time," he reassures with a sly smile and inhales from his stick, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of your perfume alongside.

He doesn't look away when you walk off with a shy wave, entranced by your struts until he's called back in. It's with newfound inspiration that he's inside of his studio.

The storyboard of his upcoming project needs a few tweaks, and he doesn't fail in enhancing his crew with a different idea.

It’s been a week. Okay, it might’ve been shorter, but Jungkook is impatient. Besides, it didn’t help when he saw you holding hands with someone... so less than. It really baffled him to see you with a guy who wore such shabby clothes. He looks like the type that Jungkook would cast for a flop character.

The two of you are like a toy display across his studio in that cutesy, obnoxious café with a smoothie in the middle of your booth. He chuckles as he lights up another stick when he notices the two straws in the single cup. Cliché, cheesy, but cute in a childish sense. Your age shines through the amateur romance between you and that loser.

It especially shows when you look to the side with a laugh and lock eyes with him; so flustered that you gasp and focus back on your date. What makes you so shy about seeing him? You seemed so confident during your conversation two days ago.

He whistles when he notices a stray dog in an alleyway. You look at him as well but don't hear anything beyond the glass wall, but it catches his attention regardless. He whistles again before saying in a hushed voice, "come here girl." It's difficult to suppress a smile when you gaze at him questioningly, as if trying to decipher his words. "Naive little girl," he mouths as he smokes, "what are you doing with that boy?"

He almost chokes when you take out your wallet in front of a waiter; are you paying for him? That's why you ordered one drink - so you could share? Jungkook isn't cruel but, he finds it laughable that your boyfriend is so... unappealing. He can't help but wonder why you're with him; maybe his face? The boy is somewhat handsome, but he only has his facial features to go by. It's rather strange for Jungkook to think about this in the first place, so he gets back inside his workplace after harshly shooing the stray dog away with a stomp of his foot.

"I'd like to start my internship today."

Jungkook runs his eyes up and down your body while leaning against a brick wall. "Paid?"

"I-I'll do it for free. Besides, I don't know if I'll even work in this industry," you twiddle your fingers while smiling up at him. He intimidates you, but this morning you decided you did enough thinking and here you are, an aspiring stylist all of a sudden.

"Get inside," he nods at the door before stubbing his cigarette and following you to his studio. "You know what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to decide the outfits, right?" The place looks cozy to you, with its minimalistic interior design and blunt switch between the stories. The first floor is strictly for business, with lined up cameras, lights and a microphone. There is even a green screen! And the second floor seems to be more of a resting area with its couches and open laptops, but you can't make out much from the entrance. Jungkook starts walking ahead of you, making a beeline for the black stairs. You tail behind him and smile at anyone who notices you, which isn't a lot of people. It's not crowded.

"Right. We're still working on a storyline, haven't finished it yet so it's possible this project might not be published. You with me so far?" he glances at you, and at your firm nod, continues, "when we finish planning, scripting and shit, you come to play."

"So what do I do now?" you innocently inquire and watch him plop down on the red velvet couch. He clicks on the space of his keyboard to light up his screen.

"I have an idea for a character, and I want to know how you would design her," he vaguely explains as he scrolls through his document.

"You want me to sketch it or explain?"

"Let's hear you out first. Irene," he suddenly calls out loudly.

"Yes?" a female responds from downstairs. You see a woman with a grey cap look up at him, her attire nothing short of casual.

"Come here."

She skips a few steps while climbing up the stairs at his command. You're not awkward when you greet her, and she offers a coy smile.

"This girl - what did you say your name was?" he asks you. You tell him and he continues, "she's going to be our intern. I want you to critique her with me."

"What's she in for?" Irene asks before sitting across from him.

"Wardrobe stylist."

Her eyes widen as she takes a second look at you. Your style is definitely unique, but... immature. She has half the mind to not question Jungkook about his choice.

"Okay..." she trails. "I'm Irene, by the way. I'm going to be an executive producer for the upcoming film."

"Nice to meet you," you brightly chirp. "Sir?"

Jungkook smirks at your addressing of him. "Yes?"

"What is your name, if I may ask?"

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, but you may know me for my pen name Shin Dong-hyuk."

Your mouth falls open when you instantly recognize the name. "Wait, what? You directed My Time?" you incredulously wonder aloud.

My Time is a movie that took the world by a storm; it brought recognition to the whole country for its popularity and clever writing. You never knew the name was a pseudonym, however. It's a suspense genre, about the life of a crazed fanboy who is obsessed with a foreign celebrity. He stalks her on the internet, has a fanpage of her and pays a hefty amount of money to strangers to update him on her whereabouts. He's portrayed as a young college student in the story, and inevitably runs out of cash from reckless spending. When she gets into a dating scandal, he goes on a theft spree and flies out to meet and confront her. It ends with her murder when he finds her with another man in a hotel room, and he stabs himself in the heart afterwards. There are a bunch of clues that foreshadow his ending, from his family life to his friendships. It's an amazing thriller, and you researched his name in the credits to find more of his works after seeing the movie but to no avail; there is only one listed.

"That's me," he nonchalantly reveals as if he didn't just give you the shock of your life. "Don't tell anyone though, will you?"

You whimsically put on an imagery zipper over your mouth while trying to recover from your racing heart.

"I don't have a clear outline, but the female lead is going to be naive but charming. She has to stand out, alright? Happy, extraordinary, special."

"We didn't decide on that," Irene butts in with a displeased expression.

"I forgot to tell you, I deleted our previous plan."

"You did wh-"

"What do you think?" he turns to you as he ignores Irene's shrieks. "What color are you imagining?"

You feel nervous when he puts you on the spotlight after revealing his identity. You close your eyes with a deep inhale before answering, "I'm thinking red and green, like Christmas. There should be a hint of white as well."

Jungkook drinks in your outfit before grinning mischievously. "Perfect." All of your colors.

Stalking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Is it such a bad idea to follow you home when it's dark out? He kept you for a long time in the studio, allowing you to dress up a mannequin with all sorts of costumes you had in mind in the backroom. He's certain you had fun with him when you left with a permanent grin on your face.

You live with your parents, and he knows for sure he's at least 5 years older than you. You look about 19, so he's assuming he's only 8 years older.

A small villa with windows all around, he observes, before glancing back at your bedroom. The lights are on and you're swinging your legs with excitement on your bed after you face planted on the mattress. He didn't see you greet your parents before running off to your room, and he can't help the smile growing on his face at your hyperactivity. It was like an instinct to walk you home in secret and he isn't sure why he is still watching you. He should look away when you get off of your bed and heave your shirt over your chest, but instead he steps away from the lamp post to hide from the light.

You're changing, and he can't take his eyes off of you. As if that wasn't enough, you unclasp your bra without even pulling the curtains. Do you know he's there? The thought excites him, and his pants begin to tighten around his crotch. He lowly whistles at you, but you don't hear him again. You do look outside for a few seconds while stretching your arms, however, and he's certain you have a connection to him.

He leaves when you put on your pajamas with the image of your bare tits imprinted on his mind. He doesn't head home first, as the studio is only a few minutes away from your home and he wants to leave you a gift.

When the familiar building enters his vision, he doesn't waste time in unlocking the door and switching on a single dim light. He rushes to the backroom after locking the entrance for a second time and unzips his jeans as he goes. You were here not too long ago, and he can pinpoint exactly where you stood while striding to each corner with purpose. Bending, crouching, leaning, doing just about anything to tease him.

Now that he can imagine your perky nipples realistically, he immediately takes out his length from his restraints and picks up a random handkerchief to pump himself with. He doesn't stop to think over his actions; he's acting on urges, on impulse. Never has he ever done something like this.

He's rather relaxed as he sits down on an idle stool to close his eyes and run his hand up and down his shaft. What he would do to press your tits against his cock while he slides it up and down, smearing his cum all over your lips while you sleep. You would swallow it without a second thought once he finishes in your gaping mouth, and wonder why there's a dull ache in your breasts the next morning.

His breaths grow shallow the faster he strokes himself, the more he thinks about using every part of you for his pleasure while you're knocked out cold. He involuntarily thrusts into the air while quiet moans slip out of his open mouth. Something about how taboo it would be to fuck you while you're unconscious turns him on so much. Would that be something you're into?

The handkerchief is so soft, so silky against his length, he can almost imagine it to be your hand. He starts twisting his hand around his cock, from the base to the tip as his other hand palms his balls before he begins to reach climax. Strings of cusses fall out of his mouth when he quickens his pace, the fabric against his skin resounding in his ears before he finally spurts out his cum into the cloth.

"Fuck," he exhales as he coats his makeshift glove with his release. White on white doesn't make much of a difference, and he's panting as he folds the handkerchief to rub it evenly so it sinks in completely.

He leaves it on the stool after zipping his pants, and his eyes twinkle under the moonlight on his journey home.

You aren't alone when you walk to work. Jungkook is taking his usual smoke break while watching you swing your interlocked hands back and forth with the guy next to you. Your smiles exude the same aura, and Jungkook sarcastically notes how compatible the two of you are. The boxy grin shines with the sun, but it doesn't hide the boy's worn out clothes.

"Good morning, Jungkook," you greet before introducing your boyfriend. "This is Taehyung, Taehyung meet Jungkook. I'm going to be under his wing until I decide my major."

"Hello, Taehyung," Jungkook coldly says before blowing smoke in his face.

Taehyung scrunches his nose before chirping, "hi!" He then turns to you and whispers, "I thought you wanted to study medicine."

You shake your head dismissively with a light laugh before responding, "it's just an internship." You let go of his hand and bid farewell with a peck on his cheek before going inside the studio.

"Well, have a good day," Taehyung smiles as he's about to leave before Jungkook holds out his hand to block the way.

"Taehyung, who is your girlfriend?"

"Um," he furrows his brows before saying your name.

"And who are you?"

At Jungkook's blunt question, Taehyung pauses and takes a step back. "What do you mean? Like my full name?"

"No, who the fuck are you? What is your contribution to society? What do you do for a living? What are you wearing?"

"Sir, I-" Taehyung's stammering is cut short when Jungkook asks, "how much money for you to stop leeching off of her?"

He scoffs, "excuse me? I'm not leeching off of anyone, and I'm sure as hell not breaking up with her for your money." Taehyung's face heats up from the shameless confrontation, and he starts walking in the opposite direction.

"So you're not going to leave her?"

Taehyung doesn't turn to look at him as he emphasizes, "no."

"Good."

He abruptly stops in his tracks. "What?"

"Your dedication is admirable," Jungkook comments with a shrug. "I'm satisfied with your answer."

"Were you testing me?"

"Bingo."

He starts chuckling before shaking his head. "I always knew directors were crazy; you scared me for a second."

"Where you headed now?" Jungkook smoothly switches the subject, but notes the fact that you've spoken about him to your boyfriend.

"I have a farm two blocks away." When Jungkook raises a brow, he explains, "I stayed the night with her, so I decided to drop her off before leaving."

"Want me to drop you off?"

It's a kind offer, really, but Taehyung is still put off by the insults thrown his way just a minute ago. Doesn't he have work to do anyway? "That's alright, thank you, but I'll just take the bus. Have a good one, Jungkook."

Jungkook doesn't stop him as they both wave goodbye. He doesn't bother putting out his cigarette before going inside.

Where would be a farm only two blocks away from the city center? It has to be a lie.

You're wandering around the place as to not awkwardly wait for Jungkook who sharply inhales at the sight. He calls your name.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to become?"

"I," you look at him funny with a laugh, "I still don't know."

"Then take a gap year."

Your brows shoot up to your hairline. "Why?"

"I want you to be invested in this project completely. Once the planning is finished, I'll give you a salary. What do you think?"

He's asking you to work full-time for him. Not as an intern, but an employee and you are beyond willing after only being here for two days. He's a famous director; how can one pass up this opportunity?

"I'd love that."

You noticed that Jungkook has a very unique way of working. You've heard that he's been keeping his crew until late at night, already having an outline for his plot and he's moved onto screenwriting. He apparently disappears randomly throughout the evening after you leave, and you've had some different experiences with him of your own.

He asked you to steal from the wardrobe of his backroom. "Take everything that you'd wear," he said before stepping out of the room.

When you confusedly compiled all of the clothes that caught your eye under your arm, he took them from you and brought them upstairs with a huge grin. "Keep that one," he pointed at the handkerchief you thought about lacing your neck with.

Taehyung's quiet with you. He doesn't respond to your texts, doesn't call you, doesn't come over. You're too busy spending time with Jungkook to check up on him, and it serves as a well distraction when you keep glancing at your notifications. It hurts, especially when your wallpaper is a picture of you and him. It hurts because he isn't with you in your proudest moments when you were with him even at his parents' funeral.

The only thing keeping you happy is casting. Jungkook asked you to make a list of all the actors that would suit his characters after giving you a vague description of their traits. The budget isn't an issue, and you're having so much fun. He makes you forget your worries without even trying.

Jungkook intimidates you, but he's so lovely.

A mere "aspiring" stylist is casting actors for a movie. How many people can brag about that? You almost stumble on the stairs as you quickly climb up with Jungkook's laptop in your hands. He gave it to you for research purposes as he drew a rough storyboard with Irene.

"I made a list," you exclaim brightly. Heads shoot in your direction and you sheepishly grin at your volume. Jungkook's eyes linger on your covered neck; it's almost like a collar.

He whistles and beckons you to sit next to him. You obey and anxiously present your list to the professionals; you have no idea how to go on about this task, and no one guided you. You're certain you look utterly amateur in front of them.

Irene is inspecting your list without hinting her thoughts as Jungkook asks, "who are your favorites?"

"Well, I think Kim Namjoon is um, suitable for the male lead's role and Joy-"

"It's decided then," he claps his hands twice without hearing out Irene who scowls at him.

"You're not cooperating with us," she voices in a complaint, "why are you always calling the shots on your own? These are major decisions-"

"Ms. Bae, don't take any offence now. I'm taking your opinions into accounts when I make these decisions. Unless you have an issue with something, let's not dwell on this, hm?"

She sighs as you stand there awkwardly. She's upset, but stays silent.

"The two leads are Kim Namjoon and Park Soo-young. The team will decide the rest of the cast, thank you," he informs you with a ghost of a smile.

"Of course," you breathe.

You don't know how long it is supposed to take to shoot a film, but surely it's not this fast paced. Jungkook is relentless with his production; there are hardly any breaks in between takes. There are bags under his eyes from pulling all nighters to work on his scripts.

He is a perfectionist and a hard worker, as you've come to find out. You feel bad for the amount of times the actors recited their lines when they didn't capture a scene right in Jungkook's eyes. It was an honor for you to meet these famous people beyond a screen, and you were strictly ordered to do Joy's makeup only. You are her stylist, but the professional one does help you after she's finished with Namjoon's.

"Cut," Jungkook says into the speaker. You're located in a rented mansion outside of the city, but you can't enjoy it when everyone is so stressed. "Start over from line "he's leeching off of you"."

Even actors can't hide their annoyance from having to do a 25th take of one scene. Jungkook pays them enough to go on with this torture however, so they have no room to complain.

They start over and you force yourself to watch them again and again.

"Oh my god, cut!" You can hardly resist groaning yourself. Everyone on set is overworked, and you know the director has it the worst, but it's overwhelming you too at this point. You flinch when your name is called. "Act Joy's lines, will you?"

"Me?" you point at yourself in surprise.

"Go ahead," he urges with a nod.

You have no idea how to act, and it's nervewracking having to do it in front of A-listers. You pick up the script handed to you from another woman and start reading:

"He's not leeching off of me," you pause to inhale shakily; your hands tremble from the heavy stares on you.

"I'm his family, the only one he has left. No one would know if he was gone, and he trusts me to look after him without having to dangle a dollar bill over his head."

This goes on until the final scene, and the retakes cut down to half.

A few months pass, and it is time for the premiere. The movie, simply titled Pretty Girl, easily got a green light for display in theatres, and it's been heavily promoted on YouTube and TV. You are excited to your core, and watching the celebrities walk the red carpet was a first for you. Jungkook easily blends in with the crowd as he once again didn't reveal his real name in the credits, but his pen name is gaining more and more recognition. You have never seen the movie throughout the editing procedure, but you can't wait to see everyone's efforts show on the big screen.

You're dressed fancily because Jungkook asked you to go with him, and the two of you are sitting in the crowded theatre with not a single empty seat to be seen. Even the entrance is decorated in retro style to fit in with the movie's theme! The jazz music playing in the halls reaches your ears, and your knees are bouncing in anticipation of the movie. Jungkook is smiling as he listens to you ramble.

"I can't believe I played a part in this whole project!" you gush with shaking fists. "I met the best director I know, and I worked for him! This all feels like a dream... No one even likes my style, and yet I became a stylist!"

"I love your style," he denies, "even now you have all the attention in the room."

"Pfft," you roll your eyes playfully, "they all think I must look weird. I tried to wear something classy so I don't stand out, but it hasn't been working out."

"Keep it that way, you're beautiful like this."

Heat creeps up to your cheeks at his compliment and you squeak, "thank you."

He doesn't get to relish your flustered state as everyone goes quiet once the movie starts.

The time period is unclear, as the language is modern but the filter is black and white. The first scene is in a bar, a man in a suit eyeing a woman with a date who is an outcast with his clothes. They're washed out and ugly, but he looks handsome with his dazzling smile at the woman.

An involuntary grin spreads across your face when you hear their dialogue.

"I want to touch someone's shoulder to see how they react. Did you see how they looked at me when I walked in here? I think they think I'm your sugar baby or something," Jimin's character jokes with a laugh.

"I know! They're all so boujee, but I'm willing to be your mommy without sugar," Joy winks. They have fun until Jimin leaves to the bathroom and Namjoon's character approaches her, who has been staring at her ever since they walked in. Joy is offered a modeling career, and she accepts after she's told that her fashion only works with her because of how beautiful she is. She's bashful when Namjoon gives her a business card.

Jungkook's film is only over an hour long, but everything is timed so perfectly. His directory is straightforward, and you admire his work until a song comes on.

"That's my favorite song!" you whisper into his ear. It's Space Song by Beach House.

"Mine too," he whispers back.

There are montages of photo shoots, Joy's rise to fame in the modeling industry, but the trouble is Jimin, her boyfriend. Namjoon confronts him one day when Jimin drops her off to her new workplace.

"How can someone so poor be able to court a woman like her?" he asks rhetorically.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Jimin is offended until Namjoon laughs it off and reveals it was a joke. The audience sighs in relief, and all is fun and games until Jimin is brutally murdered next to a dumpster. You gasp at the gore scene and glance at Jungkook, until something dawns on you.

The story is starting to sound familiar. Was this movie inspired by your encounters? Your eyes light up as you give your utmost attention to the movie. The line between reality and fiction is beginning to blur.

Joy goes to Namjoon's house, where the dialogue you first reenacted comes to play. The shots are gorgeous, the script filled with metaphors on poverty and currency, and the romance is sickly sweet. There is a sex scene not long after... Joy forgets all about her boyfriend in the snap of Namjoon's fingers.

You tilt your head when you remember Taehyung. Where is he? How come your boyfriend didn't even show up to this life-changing experience?

Jungkook's hand slides over your thigh out of nowhere, as he murmurs, "do you mind?"

You stammer when his fingers reach under your dress to poke at your panties. "S-Sorry?"

"I said," he grazes your folds as you tense at the feather light touch, "do you mind if I touch you, pretty girl?"

Your chest heaves as your lashes flutter in a daze, but you nod nonetheless. His low raspy voice already has you clenching your thighs, unintentionally trapping his hand against your pussy. He's gentle, almost curious with the way he runs his fingers over your silky underwear before he moves it to the side. You're shivering with delight and thrill, and you don't take your eyes off of each other as he begins to flick your clit carelessly.

"Looks so pretty on you," he compliments the makeshift choker on your neck. It's his handkerchief you wore for the occasion, unaware that it's dried with cum. He pulls on the knot like it's a collar, and you're entranced. Your pants fan his lips at the close proximity, and he doesn't shy away from slotting his mouth against yours. You quietly moan into the kiss when his thumb starts to rub your clit, and his long finger pokes at your entrance.

"You mind?" he murmurs against your lips, his words slightly slurred as he doesn't stop kissing you. The wet noises are drowned out by the loud volume of the movie, but you can't focus on what's going on.

"I don't," you breathe before he slips in two fingers, exploring your walls with precision. He's multitasking as he circles your sensitive clit, and you're not very experienced in regards to sexual encounters but your hand lands on his hard-on anyway.

"Don't be shy," he chuckles into your neck, "touch it."

You don't know what you're doing when you slip your hand under his pants and palm him over his briefs, but his sigh is encouraging you. You're touching each other in a room of 100 people.

It's embarrassing when his free hand joins yours to help you touch him while simultaneously fingering you. He must have sensed your lack of confidence, because he starts to stroke his erection over your hand. You start to imagine his fingers as the real thing, and with your particularly low stamina, have a hard time suppressing your whines.

"Kiss my neck," he suggests as a solution to your nibbling. You didn't even realize your nether lip is bleeding from how hard you were biting on it. You bury your head in his shoulder and start pecking his neck. He holds back a laugh at how shy you're being, and he feels proud for predicting this moment perfectly in the movie. Joy is having the time of her life with Namjoon, unaware of Jimin decaying in the attic.

He quickens his pace in your cunt, and you bite him rather harshly at the sensation. He hisses with a chuckle; he likes it when you're impulsive. He can pick up the squelches from his thrusts because of how wet you are, and you climax all over his fingers in a matter of seconds with a whimper. You're twitching in your seat, and your hand strokes him faster but he stops you.

"In my studio," he says and you nod tiredly against his shoulder. The issue isn't that he doesn't want to cum in his pants, but the movie needs to become reality. He wants to fuck you on that one stool, with Taehyung's corpse decomposing in the backroom.

Jungkook always adds a pinch of fiction to his stories, but they're mostly based on true events. If you paid attention to the ending, maybe you would've realized that.

Lying is bad, but there are worse things in life.

#bts imagines #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook #jjk smut

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alustriel-the-star · 2 years

Text

After brake up : Itachi x Fem!Reader

Summary: How would you comfort someone after brake up? How would you feel hearing him open up his heart to you?

Warning: Modern AU , mild cursing all rest is safe :) enjoy reading

You two had volley ball practice every weekend. This one would be the same. You packed your cloth to change and went to trainig grounds . There you just waited for Itachi to come. You were friends since you were small kids. And that friendship was still strong.

Your mobile rang on screen was Itachi's name he was calling. That was strange did something happened?

"Hey Itachi did something happened?"

His voice over phone sounded tired and weird, somehow you knew something isn't right.

"If you don't mind I would like to cancel our practice weekend. I just came to your house. Can you please come back. I will be waiting you in the car. I want to talk with you"

"Fine I will then just walk back" You said before hanging up. You could not help it but feel a bit annoyed. He could at least tell you earlier. He sounded to you like he was giving excuses.

When you got home he was sitting on the stairs infront the door. Dear God what has he done? You gasped from surprise and he lifted his head looking at you. He cut short his beautiful balck hair. It was like looking at stranger. Back of the neck where always was his low tied ponytail, all gone. There were now short strainds barely covering nape of his neck. His hair was cut into a mushroom, only his bangs remained. He stuck a piece of bangs to his ear before looking at you.

(artist 干した柿)

"Hey y/n I am so sorry for putting you through all this. But can we go inside please" He was asked making apologetic face.

You got inside he took his spot on sofa patiently waiting till you make coffee and took your spot next to him. He let out tired sigh.

"Well where should I start. I wanted to call you earlier but some stuff happened with Amaya" He sighed again taking sip of the coffee. "A lot of happened."

"I can see that. By your behavior and by your hair. But I am here for you, you know that"

He smiled flicking your forehead. "Thank you for understanding. That means a lot to me . Our friendship always meant a lot ot me. And I'll make it up to you for all this trouble."

He was beating around the bushes. But you know you can't rush him, if you do he will just shut into himself. He was the most emotional men you ever knew.

"I can't believe it! You found that phone mask you were so obsessed with." He commented excited when he saw back of your phone, that was now decorated with your favorite anime character.

"Yes I did. I found it over internet after I dragged you trough every single phone store in town" You remebered that unfortunate day. And his whining that he can't take it anymore. He took you for lunch and drink after. Your favorite pizza caffee. He knew you were upset when even pizza tastet awful for you that day.

"Yes but I think it's now my turn to take you to that pizza Itachi"

"Nah. Better let me make you those corolful dangos again. You liked them a lot. And making them puts my mind at ease." He sighed again.

"Itachi will you now tell me what is going on? What troubles you?"

He nodded as yes and took blanket that was folded on sofa. He covered you both snuggling himself next to you.

"Mhmm..you are so warm, and so nice to me I could stay like this forever. Just to comfort myself and forget about all the rest of the world. You remeber back then when we were kids. We used to cuddle all the time like this and you never complained."

"Why should I? It puts my mind at ease to see that you still find comfort in me as I do in you" You replied.

"It's not fair you know? I feel like I am using you in this moment. Amaya dumped me." He finally said what troubuled him sobadly. You kinda felt happy about it. So that is why he was suffering, but you were happy that he is single again. What's wrong with you? Caressing his short hair you just softly sighed.

"Even today I am canceling everything and you are not mad on me or anything. Amaya said some thing that made me think a lot . That made me cut my hair too."

You wanted to say what that dumb bitch said. But you didn't you just continued to hold him caressing his hair.

"What she said to you Itachi?"

What she could say to put him in this state?

"She said that I don't love her anymore. That I am in love with someone else, and that this person is also in love with me."

You asked who. "It doesen't even matter . What bothers me the most is that she is right cause when she broke up with me I felt nothing. No sorrow about it nothing. I just felt like I got out of cage. That is why as punishment I cut my hair. How could I not feel nothing? How could I drag on this relationship just to have it?"

You sighed saying I am sorry there was nothing else you could say.

"It isn't your fault. But I have a question for you. Do you..do you like me?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I do" You replied confindently.

"No not like that I mean not as a friend. I meant as a boyfriend" Itachi lifted from your hold facing you. He wanted answer his eyes were searching your face, his eyes eager to hear answer.

"Please just be honest with me alright"

"Yes Itachi I do like you more then I should. I do have feeling for you." You were honest. Your heart would always beat faster near him. You would always get jealoys on girls who were flirting with him. And you never ever liked any of his girlfriends.

"Why you never said anything? How long you were gulping you feelings down your throat?"

You just shrugged your shoulders looking away. Did it matter when love for a friend turned into something more?

He took your chin between his fingers making you look at him.

"I am sorry for doing this to us for not noticing your feelings or mine. For quite a while now.. I noticed that I was looking forward more to our meetings and hanging outs then to going out with my girlfriend"

He continued to speak. "I feel like at home when you hold me like this. And I started to nice things about you that I never considered before. The spark in your eyes , the shine of yor hair when is caressed by the sun. Your smiles everytime you smiled my heart would just jump in my throat. "

He held your face, his palms on your cheeks, and he kissed you. Small sigh hicked up in your throat. He stopped loooking to your face but now you leaned in kissig him back. He made sutisfuing soft moan kissing you back with passion.

He breathed out as he pressed you between him and sofa.

"Fuck.." He breathed out as he pressed you between him and sofa.

"I love you...and I think I always had loved only you"

#itachi x reader #uchiha itachi #itachi uchiha #itachi x femreader #itachi x y/n #itachi x you #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi fluff #itachi angst #itachi headcanons #headcanon #itachi imagines #itachi fanfiction #itachi scenarios #itachi uchiha x you #itachi modern au #naruto modern au #naruto x you #naruto x y/n

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tteokggukk · 4 years

Text

welcome to my youtube channel → kth

✳ pairing: idol!taehyung x youtuber!reader

✳ genre: fluff, taehyung scenario, stranger to lovers, reader is an artist who posts art videos on youtube

✳ warnings: none!

✳ words: 2.9k

✳ a/n: hello, this is my second bts oneshot/scenario. i just like to write for fun but if you’d like to let me know if there’s anything i can improve on please do so! i’d love to know how to improve. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

"Hey guys, welcome to my YouTube Channel."

You spoke in front of the camera. Sets of acrylic paint were spread out across the table next to a stand that held an 18x24 inch canvas. You were in the middle of making your seventeenth video, a highly requested one at that, and deep down you were ecstatic to start working on the painting.

Never in your life did you think you would ever start a YouTube account. You always considered yourself a very shy and private person, not one to go out of their way and broadcast themselves all over the internet. Your best friends, however, were two very well-known YouTubers and always found a way to include you in their videos and live streams. Somehow people liked seeing more of you, and so you were convinced by your best friends and the audience to start your own YouTube channel.

But you weren't very accustomed to bringing a camera everywhere with you to document and share whatever was happening in your daily life, you found it too awkward and you were still camera-shy, so you decided to create content in a way that would still keep you comfortable while doing something you loved.

An art channel.

Your channel blew up pretty fast. Requests started pouring in here and there. You became known for your very calm demeanor and artistic skills, so you took this as an opportunity to sell your works online as a way to earn some extra money for your future. Occasionally, you'd do lives to talk to your fans and you were happy at the support they showed you, which only encouraged you to keep making videos.

"This was a highly requested video, and I honestly can't wait to get started," you told the camera, mentally telling yourself to insert the comments and messages you got in your DMs to paint this Adonis-like human being. The requests started coming in after you had an Instagram live where you did some quick sketches while playing some of your favorite songs in the back, and people noticed one of the songs you played was by him.

"You guys also asked if I could sell this painting, but because of the "high demand"," you spoke, adding air quotes, "I'd like to keep it up for auction so the proceeds could go to different fundraisers."

You started mixing different colors in your palette and showed everyone the picture for your reference.

"So, without further ado, today I will be painting Kim Taehyung."

"Hey guys, welcome to my YouTube Channel."

Taehyung watched as you spoke in the video, looking behind you to see a bunch of art materials. The title of the video was left ambiguously, only being named most requested video, leaving him no clue on what it was you were going to create this time.

He's been watching your videos for quite some time now, ever since your channel started rising. Art was one of his major interests and he absolutely adored the way you made your videos with the calming, ASMR-like sound of mixing paint and how you skillfully glided the brush across the canvas. On days when he found himself tired and in need of a quick way to relax, he'd subconsciously find himself binge watching videos on your channel— even repeating several videos since you were only starting. He found it fascinating, but also because he found you interesting.

Because of your channel, he even created an anonymous YouTube account just to leave nice comments on your videos along with a private Instagram account to be able to watch your lives.

Needless to say, he didn't miss that one live where you played the song Winter Bear. It made his whole night, making him sleep with a smile on his face.

"This was a highly requested video, and I honestly can't wait to get started."

He watched as a bunch of comments started appearing onscreen popping up one by one as they gradually got faster, eventually covering you. It took a moment before it sunk in that he was the highly requested person they wanted you to paint. He paused the video, wide-eyed, before shouting in excitement. Jimin had to come in and check what the whole commotion was about.

"Y/n's going to paint me!" Taehyung exclaimed, his mouth turning into his famous boxy smile.

"Ah, the YouTuber you really like?" Jimin smiles before sitting down next to Taehyung who continued playing the video, "I wanna see."

"You guys also asked if I could sell this painting, but because of the "high demand", I'd like to keep it up for auction so the proceeds could go to different fundraisers."

"Wow, she seems really kind," Jimin says, while Taehyung only nods, his eyes glued to the screen.

"So, without further ado, today I will be painting Kim Taehyung."

He felt his heart beat fast when you mentioned his name, and without realizing it his ears have gone all red.

On screen, you began sketching, "You guys have also been sending me a lot of questions lately, which is why I decided to tweet about doing a q&a."

"What questions did you ask?" Jimin asked Taehyung.

"I asked her if being an artist is something she'd like to pursue," Taehyung told him.

"Ooooh, trying to get to know her," Jimin teases, "Our little Taehyungie has a celebrity crush."

Taehyung rolls his eyes but breaks out into a grin anyway, "I just respect her artistry."

"Right, okay," Jimin snickers, obviously not buying it.

Taehyung knew he was telling the truth, though. It was impossible to have feelings for someone who you only knew through a screen. He found you attractive for sure, but he of all people would know that almost no one is completely one-hundred percent themselves on screen. Genuine as you may be, there are still things that are best kept to yourself. He couldn’t lie though, if given the chance to get to know you, he’d never pass up on that offer.

"Someone asked why I don't use that much ready-made paint," You spoke on screen, "It's ‘cause I learn a lot from mixing my own colors, and also I just really enjoy it."

The painting was beginning to come together halfway through the video and Taehyung's question finally made its way to you. "Kimyeontan95 asks, ‘is painting a career you want to pursue? I love your work, by the way’."

"That was basically I love you," Jimin holds back a laugh, earning him a light punch in the arm from Taehyung.

"Thank you so much, kimyeontan95, and no, painting is just a hobby of mine and a way to earn some future savings. I actually really want to be a novelist."

Taehyung smiled after hearing you answer his question. Later on, the video was over and his portrait was complete. He hurriedly redirected himself to the link that was provided for the auction.

Something in him wanted to have that painting no matter what, so he set himself as the highest bidder and eventually had it mailed to his home where he put your work up in his room to cherish.

A day after your video was posted, you woke up to a thousand notifications from your phone. Hundreds of people were mentioning you in tweets and you had numerous missed calls from your best friends and some texts telling you to check your online art shop. You groggily scroll through your feed, a bit confused as to what was happening.

I wanted to buy this painting and I had it in my list, but now it's unavailable!

Y'ALL WHAT RICH KID SET THE HIGHEST BID TO A MILLION DOLLARS IM CRYING

@yourtwittername are you planning to sell a new collection?

a million dollar bid wtf swownwowksodiowl

Someone just bought all of @yourtwitterusername's paintings. I'm crying in broke eye—

but like what if taehyung set that bid? @yourtwitterusername

What?

I just woke up and my mentions are pouring. What is going on? You tweeted.

Thousands of replies began coming in leaving you feeling overwhelmed and confused on where to start. Everyone was telling you to check your site, and so you did. You felt your heart almost stop beating when you saw that every single artwork you had up for sale were sold out. Nothing was left behind. You checked your emails, and the confirmations were there.

How could this have happened overnight?

ALL MY WORKS ARE SOLD OUT?!?!?!?? WHO COULDVE DONET THIS??? You tweeted, hands shaking.

You felt your heart race, a wide grin that could go even wider if possible was plastered on your face. You tried to stop yourself from screaming in excitement but couldn't so you ended up jumping up and down and doing happy dances before calming down to assess the situation. Finally, you sat down in front of your laptop to see where all your works were being shipped to.

Replies started coming in.

CONGRATS YOU FIGURED IT OUT

WILL U RESTOCK

AHSKWJOA CONGRATS BB

I'M SO HAPPY FOR U

BUT Y/N WHO BOUGHT THEM ALL

Checking your emails, you discover that your art works were all bought by one person. Anonymous. There was no name and someone requested to have their personal information redacted.

Anonymous? Surely this wasn't a joke?

The person kept their name anonymous. You tweeted and muted the notifications just to allow yourself to focus on finding out who it was that bought everything.

At the bottom of all the removed personal information, there was one username that you were sure you've heard or seen somewhere.

@ Kimyeontan95.

Underneath the username was a short but sincere message.

"Your videos have always helped me wind down after a long, busy day. I can't express how much you inspire me with your talent and how I wish someday you'd teach me to be half as good as you, as I'm not very gifted in the painting department. I admire how you put your gifts into good things, and I very much idolize you in one way or another. This is just a small way of showing my support for you, but also because all your works are amazing and I'd love to have a small room filled with my favorite art works. I look forward to reading works of yours soon, future novelist.”

Feeling the heat creeping up on your cheeks, you smiled to yourself. The letter was definitely heartfelt and you wanted so badly to thank the person who sent it.

Later that afternoon, you decided to go on live to personally thank the anonymous buyer for buying your works and for sending that wonderful note. You fixed yourself up a little bit and pressed live as thousands of your followers began to tune in.

"Hello, everyone," you greeted, smiling. Replies with greetings started coming in and you couldn't help but chuckle at the eager messages your followers were sending. They truly made you happy.

As expected, several questions began pouring in.

"Right, so, I wanted to do this live because of what happened. As you may have noticed, all my works were suddenly sold out which definitely took me by surprise," you started, "Unfortunately the buyer left everything anonymous. They only left what I assume is a username and a short letter, which I will keep to myself for personal reasons."

@follower1WHAT

@follower2 will you keep selling your works?

@follower3 THATS SUCH A SWEET GESTURE THO OMG/

@follower4 am I the only one who thinks a secret admirer bought it

@follower5 check my YouTube channel I made a theory on who bought her works

@follower6 i rlly think it's taehyung

@follower7 I’'m so proud of you :(((

"If the person who bought all of my paintings is watching this, I really want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I appreciate the letter as well, you've honestly made me the happiest person on Earth," you smiled.

@follower8 AWWWWW

@follower9 ANON COME OUT

@follower10 i really wanna know what the letter says

@ Kimyeontan95 I'm glad :)

Your heart stopped at one of the replies. You took your phone immediately from its fixed position with wide eyes and began scrolling up fast because of the immediate replies coming in. Wasn't that the username?

@follower11 what's going on?

@follower12 y/n are you okay?

You could no longer find the reply so you set your phone down, fixing it back in place.

"For a second I thought the person who bought it was watching my live," you sighed and smiled nervously, "So anyways— I'd really love to express my gratitude so if they're watching, please contact me. I can't say thank you en—"

Suddenly the replies were frantic. People were sending keyboard smashes here and there. Only a few of them were actual coherent comments. "What is going on?" You asked as you began scrolling through.

@follower13 Y/N CHECK VLIVE

@follower14 TaEHYUNF IS ON LIVE

@follower15 I kNEW IT THOUGH???

@follower16 Y/N CHECK TAEHYUNGS LIVE

@follower5 Y'ALL I WAS RIGHT I SAID CHECK MY YT

Keeping your live on, you grabbed your laptop as fast as you could to check out the links being sent to your live. When it finally loaded, you could've sworn you'd have a heart attack.

"Oh, I think she's watching me," Taehyung grinned through his live, holding his phone in front of the camera. He quickly shows the viewers his phone screen, which showed your live of you watching him through your laptop. Your eyes widened and you looked back at your phone camera that was broadcasting your live, then back at his live.

Taehyung started giggling, "I guess we're just watching each other, huh?" He smiled. Behind him were packed and unpacked parcels of paintings you recognized were yours. If it was even possible, your eyes grew even wider at this, "Oh my god," you breathed out.

"I should probably introduce myself," Taehyung spoke, "Hello everyone, I'm Kim Taehyung. How are you all doing? Today I’m planning on redecorating my room after our practice. What are the packages behind me? Oh, these are paintings I recently bought."

"Are those my paintings?" You asked out loud, though you knew the answer.

"Are those my paintings?" Your voice echoed from Taehyung's broadcast as your live was streaming from his phone. He grinned sheepishly, "Yes, these are your works, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," You smiled, "You were the buyer?"

You mentally slapped yourself for asking such obvious questions, but you just couldn't believe everything that was happening now.

"Yes," he chuckles, "I really love your paintings." Suddenly the sound of Jimin’s voice echoed from behind and Taehyung quickly stood up to lock the door, knowing he’d get the teasing of a lifetime if Jimin came and saw him talking to you.

"Thank you so much, I—" Your voice began to crack and your eyes welled with tears that you tried to fight back, "I really appreciate it. And the letter, that was really sweet."

"No, thank you. Wait, don't cry—" Taehyung spoke nervously.

"I'm just so happy," You laughed while wiping the tears off.

The replies from both ends were coming in like crazy. On one hand, majority of everyone watching found the whole scenario cute and started pairing you two out of nowhere, though there were a few haters on the other. It didn't really bother you, you were just so happy someone you idolized noticed your work.

"I'm glad," he was watching you with a fond smile through his phone, then the sound of the Jin’s voice began coming from outside Taehyung’s room, "Sorry for this sudden grand reveal. I really can't stay on live for too long but I'd love to keep talking to you." He spoke.

"Oh no, that's okay," You spoke fast.

"Do you mind if I send you a message? Assuming you already know the username," he asks.

"No not at all, I'd love to keep talking as well," your heart was beating erratically now. You didn't have to see your face to know how red it was becoming.

"Alright, great. Um, before I end this vlive I just wanna say you're a great artist and to all my viewers watching this, please support y/n's artworks and her channel! If I see any negative comments, I'll be taking responsibility and I'll unfortunately have my agency involved in taking those out," he spoke in a commercial tone kind of voice, "And to y/n, I'll be keeping in touch.” The door from behind him suddenly bursts open and Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook rush inside.

“You were talking to her!” Jimin shouts excitedly.

“Finally!” Jungkook claps.

“Is that why you kept the door locked?” Jin teases.

“Bye, everyone!" Taehyung quickly waves goodbye to the camera and smiles before turning the broadcast off.

You sat there stunned, almost forgetting you were also on live. You turned to your phone which was still recording you, "That was unexpected."

Suddenly, a notification in your DMs popped up. "I'll go ahead and process everything that just happened now, bye guys! See you in my next video." You ended the live with a wave and smile.

You quickly went into your direct messages and found the same username, Kimyeontan95. You opened it and found a picture of Taehyung holding one of your paintings with a peace sign on his other hand, the other members behind him posing with your other works, making you laugh.

Your heart fluttered at the message below the picture.

I hope this isn't too sudden, but would you like to go out with me sometime?

a/n: hello! if you finished it, thank you so much for reading! i hope you liked it hehe. i think i’m gonna keep posting the stuff i write bc i have so many ideas for the other members as well. also this is fun hehe. if you wanna read my other work, let’s fall in love for the night, ← here’s a link! thanks again for reading and please look forward to my future writing/edits.

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phanfictioncatalogue · 2 years

Text

Idiots In Love Masterlist

4 Ways to Spice up your Sex Life (ao3) - Full_Moon_Lover

Summary: Phil thinks it's time for them to move out of their apartment and into a house of their own and what better way to surprise his boyfriend than to look at some property websites to try and narrow down their options for potential houses. If only Dan didn't stumble on one of these websites on Phil's laptop and come to a completely different conclusion.

Phil was tired of him and wants to move out. It was now up to Dan to get back Phil's interest in him and what better way to do that than to look on the internet for ways to spice up a relationship? Follow Dan's adventures as he follows the steps on a love article to try and spice up his and Phil's sex life. Nothing can go wrong....

A Good Day (ao3) - winstonlives

Summary: Domestic day with Dan and Phil. It's autumn. Just a warm and cozy fic about two idiots who love each other.

can't breathe when you touch my sleeve (ao3) - dayevsphil

Summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it's basically a meme. Now he's got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he'd had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

Do You Know How in Love With You I Am (Please Notice) (ao3) - phantasticworks

Summary: Dan works at a small paper company, but the brightside to this boring career is that his best friend Phil is just a few feet away at reception. The downside to this is that he's hopelessly, irrevocably in love with said best friend. Oh, and Phil is engaged, too.

A short little story about best friends, being in love, and pining hopelessly after the boy you think you can't have. But, don't worry, there's a happy ending in here somewhere.

Drunk in Love (ao3) - ahappyphil

Summary: 5 times Dan and Phil were horny sappy drunks

Five Times Dan Got Jealous… (ao3) - JenCollins, WordsAblaze

Summary: …And the one time jealousy was the last thing on his mind, ft. collabs, puppies, misunderstandings, unbuttoned shirts, twitter selfies, and a happily ever after. Enjoy!

giving you my forever (ao3) - dayevsphil

Summary: Phil gives him a little wave and goes to water their semi-neglected plants. He's wearing glasses and ugly pyjamas, and he looks like the rest of Dan's life.

"Hey," says Dan. "You wanna get married?"

good night bear (ao3) - masonlovesdanandphil

Summary: “good night bear i love you”

dan howell loves phil lester. phil lester loves dan howell. you know the story two soulmates who met on the internet. just something is different.

dan can’t sleep without watching phil’s videos. oh and phil stopped filming videos

Hoodie Strings (ao3) - howellesterfics

Summary: phil has a temptation

Ice Cream, The Beach, And Teasing Gone Wrong (ao3) - JenCollins, WordsAblaze

Summary: Dan and Phil love teasing each other but things can go wrong when they go outside, especially when jealousy, self-doubt and unstoppable love are involved... Enjoy!

Learning Curves (ao3) - winstonlives

Summary: Dan, a youtuber, sees an old A levels teacher in a gay bar years after he left school. That same teacher is Phil Lester, the hunkiest teach Dan ever did see. He makes a plan to subtly bump into him and reintroduce himself as a successful adult. While the reintroduction doesn't go quite as planned, the two end up in bed together, much to Dan's delight. Phil on the other hand has some reservations about the whole thing, throwing a wrench into Dan's lustful plans.

"Seriously?" (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: the time Phil met a totally-not-handsome stranger and only sort-of wished they'd never meet again. Tough luck?

the jacket (ao3) - Rawritsamehh

Summary: Dan returns home from the Attitude photoshoot.

there's a storm brewing (in my teacup) (ao3) - orangesofsymmetry

Summary: Today's specials: caramel macchiato with a side dish of this drink gets you laid.

things we leave unspoken (ao3) - zvyozdochka (paperdaisies)

Summary: There were things Dan never expected Phil to find, and likewise, Phil never did tell Dan about the ring in his closet. After they collapsed in 2012, that wasn't exactly an option. But 2017 was a fresh start in so many ways- why not for them as well?

when it rains, it's lemon cakes (ao3) - corvinephan

Summary: "The thought of the boy quickly becomes one of his go-to fantasies, the thing that helps him get through the day, tethering him to reality and making it a bearable experience. And really, Phil thinks that it's a bit much to feel this way about what is, essentially, a complete stranger, but he's always been bad with fantasies, getting lost in them easily, head always filled with impossible scenarios and tender moments he'll never get to experience."

Sneaking around. Crushed pastries at the bottom of the tray. Kisses at dawn and the impending threat of an arranged marriage.

Phil meets a tall stranger on a late-night rendezvous through the castle. What happens when that stranger's smile and laugh fill an entire room, burrowing besides Phil's heart and refusing to leave?

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #idiotsinlove #idiotsinlove masterlist

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honeysidesarchived · 3 years

Text

WHERE THERE IS NO TEMPTATION, THERE IS NO GLORY.

⊱ a santino d'antonio / oc short-fic

pt. iii: tra i due litigante terzo gode ( read on ao3 ) ( masterlist )

words: 3.6k

warnings: mentions of animal death (canon-typical), clown on clown violence.

rating: m/t

notes: putting this little project of mine up on the internet for strangers to see was incredibly nerve-wracking, but i have been so lucky to be received so kindly by folks! thank you to everyone who reads, it really means the absolute most to me.

i don't know if i mentioned this before, but you can find translations for the (google-translated) italian at the bottom of each chapter on my ao3. i know it's a hassle, i'm sorry!! just can't find an easy place to put them here without spoiling what's going on in the chap ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

thank you as always to my lovely beta @starcrier, my lover my life my shawty my wife; this could not be done at all without you. ♡ and to @belorage, who loves euphie enough to send me the cutest message that managed to kick my ass into gear to get this chapter edited!!

Two days after the engagement party, when Santino has finally made up for his delay and lateness, is when he ruins it all again.

Later, Euphemia will think that he can’t help it—he is destined to be a wrecker, a ruiner, even if it’s for himself. It’s not his fault, not really, she’ll say. Ignoring that he is a perfectly autonomous adult means that she can excuse his thoughtlessness and not call it selfishness.

One of Santi’s men tries to tell her that he’s busy as she strides through the museum, heels clipping the floor with a strict, stark cadence. The smell of the doctor’s office is still stuck in her palette. She feels a wad of anxiety, anticipation, coiling deep in the pit of her stomach, a black stone dropped there to torture her with its heaviness. Santino will be happy, she thinks absently, chewing the inside of her cheek as she moves. He’s always wanted this.

The man is keeping pace with her well enough, despite her long legs and the purpose with which she walks to one of the back rooms of the museum.

“Bella,” he says, reaching to stop her, “per favore, he is in a meeting.”

The words put a sour taste in her mouth. Busy, the man is trying to say, too busy for you, for this, right now.

“Trust me, Gianni,” she replies dryly, “he’ll want to make time for this.”

She takes two steps into the room past the other guards, who don’t bother trying to stop her. The room is marked primarily by a high ceiling, which allows all of the paintings to be hung in it in their varying degrees of size. Euphemia recognizes Santino sitting on the bench first, and then another man that he’s talking to. The man looks like he’s just come off of the streets, his hair dark and the scruff that she can see on the side of his face manicured enough to look like he just hasn’t bothered recently.

It takes Euphemia’s brain a few seconds to register the facial features of the man who turns to look at her over his shoulder. He would be nothing, mean nothing, to her if she didn’t see the way his expression flattened, his gaze sweeping over her—calculating. Measuring. Identifying.

He looks dirty, unshowered, covered in soot, and she thinks back to two nights ago when Santino showed up to their engagement party smelling like fire and gunpowder.

Santino stands abruptly. He might be angry, or perhaps worried; it’s hard to tell the difference with him. But she can’t look at him, anyway, her gaze fixed on the stranger who is not much of a stranger at all, who she knows because of the scary stories. The rest of the world may as well be melting down around her, some sick Van Gogh painting, and she can’t look away.

John Wick has dark eyes. Shark’s eyes, she thinks. Black, soulless. Like the glass eyes on a teddy bear. She feels her stomach lurch as fear washes over her in a slick, wet wave, reminding her that she’s already received one bout of stressful news this afternoon.

He watches her. She’s sure he’s sizing her up—that is what John Wick is made to do—but after a second, he glances to Santino, gauging his reaction. If he thinks she's any kind of a threat, he's not letting it show.

“I told you not to let anyone in,” Santi says angrily to Gianni, helpless behind her—because Gianni would have never dared to grab her arm to stop her, would have never thought it acceptable to handle her like street rabble.

“Santi,” Euphie says, feeling very small and very far away and somewhere that her body isn't, “who is that?”

She knows, but she wants to hear him say it.

He steps around the bench, excusing himself from his conversation with Wick and crossing the space between them to guide her out of the room with his hands on her arms. She lets him, not because she isn’t burning with rage but because if Santino doesn’t show her where to go, Euphemia will just stand there, fear driving icy-hot spears through her chest.

He takes her as far as around the corner of the room, maybe to put as much space between her and John Wick as he can afford, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She starts to shrug his hands off of her, and oh, there it is—the shrieking, panging fear, and fury, boiling inside of her. Venomous, indignant. Her mind is a mess of color and noise and she’s vaguely aware that maybe she should be working hard to keep her voice down, but it no longer matters.

A lot of things shouldn’t have happened that did. What’s one more?

“You brought him here?” She can feel her voice bordering on hysteria. “Are you a fucking idiot, Santi? What part of I don��t want John Wick near my life—”

“Euphie, Euphie, Euphie,” Santi says, trying his sweet-talk; condescending, like he’s speaking to a child. “Lower your voice, tesora, and we’ll talk about it.”

Her hand moves of its own accord, a knee-jerk reaction to Santi sweetly telling her to shut up, and she slaps him. Hard. As hard as she can manage. The second her palm connects with the side of his face, and the needles start stinging in her palm, she thinks that she regrets it: but all she can really think about is the pure fear and rage coursing through her body, pummeling adrenaline through her bloodstream until she feels like she’s going to be sick.

And, a little, too, a warmth blooming in her chest: satisfaction.

Santino's head doesn't turn back to her right away. There is a heartbeat of a moment where only silence reigns, where his fingers reach and touch the place her palm had made contact with, like he can't believe she did it. Maybe he can't, but then he'd be a bigger idiot than Euphemia thought.

He turns to face her again and holds up a hand—perhaps to call for a moment of inaction, or to be prepared for a second blow, she’s not sure and she doesn’t care. Santi begins, his voice a low threat, “Do not do anything else you're going to regret, Euphemia.”

Anything else you’re going to regret, he says, as though she will regret having done this.

“Fuck you,” she snaps, her voice rising in volume further yet. The poison reverberates on the high, smooth glass ceiling, bouncing off of the marble walls until it’s all echoing around them. “He knows what I look like, what—what I sound like, he knows my name, Santi, you—”

She's pushing him, hitting his chest; an impatient and weak battering. She wants both to get him away from her as much as possible and keep him close. Santi catches her wrists with bruising force, trapping her and making her look at him.

“Euphemia, basta—if you had waited,” he bites out, “then—”

“I’m pregnant!” The words leave her in a visceral, furious shout, her heart thundering in her chest, her flight or fight demanding one or the other. She rips her wrists from his grip. It feels like her entire body is vibrating. “You fucking idiot—I was late, I just got back from the doctor, and—and you’re not supposed to have him here anyway! You promised me, Santino D’Antonio, you promised me!”

There is a heartbeat of time, of space, where her fiance stares at her like he doesn’t quite think that she’s real. Red blooms on his cheek where her hand made contact and the dark of his pupils has all but swallowed up the beautiful green of his irises. Finally, something seems to kick the gears back into motion, and he plunges on, catching his footing.

“Euphie,” Santi says, reaching for her again, “Euphie, listen to me. John came to me, I didn’t—”

“I don’t need a fucking history lesson, Santino!” Euphemia spits, brushing his hand away from her arm. Blood is rushing through her head, louder and louder, demanding she raise her own volume to be heard over it. “I told you to leave him alone. You insisted, and I thought that was the end of it—you came late to the party that night because of him, isn’t that right? So why is he here, Santi? Why is John Wick near me and my baby?”

Santino stares at her. She can see the flex of his jaw when his teeth clench, trying to maintain what shred of control he has. He swallows, lifting a finger, to indicate one minute, and it takes all of her self-control not to scream at him that he doesn’t get any more minutes. But there is some pleasure in seeing him a little ruffled; to see the way his eyes dart over her face, trying to keep everything collected neatly in his mind, filed away for premium use. She wants to shake him until he is really rattled.

“It may have taken more persuasion than I anticipated,” Santi says finally, at last.

Euphemia makes a sound something like wrecking, like grief, because she knew this was going to happen and he told her it wouldn’t but here they are anyway. It’s a death knell, ringing in her ribcage, in the cavity of her chest. Dead, dead, dead, we’re all fucking dead now, don’t you see it? You, and me, and now our baby, dead like stones.

He continues quickly, over the sound of her agony, “But that doesn’t matter—cara mia, listen to me, it doesn’t matter because now John will do what I ask him to, and we don’t have to worry about anything else. Euphie, Euphie—come here, we'll talk about this.”

She’s going to be sick. The doctor’s words are still rolling around in her head; avoid stress, make sure you sleep and eat well. Can’t be worrying that baby, can we, Miss Volpe? Make sure your fiance does all the work, hm?

“It does matter. It matters the most, Santi, I—I told you to leave him be, I told you, and you said that you would only ask and that would be it—”

She’s grieving, now, lamenting the loss of her happiness, the hysteria taking a melancholic edge in her voice as the sorrow sweeps over her. Santi keeps reaching for her, to try and ground her back to him, and for the first time since she met him she just can’t stand to feel him touching her, saying her name, trying to sweet-talk her. His hands sweep her shoulders, coming up for his thumb to brush the nape of her neck; instinctively, her shoulders scrunch up to disembark them, arms shoving his off of her.

He says, “Tesora, we can talk about this—”

“You did exactly what I asked you not to,” she manages out, taking a step back from him. “I ask you for two things, Santi. Helping my mother, and not putting yourself at war with John Wick. I do not—you should not have asked him at all!”

“Euphie—”

By the time Santino reaches for her again, she’s turning and walking away, her steps unsteady. She’s sure that she’s sweating, or crying, or maybe both or neither and her body is just kicking into overdrive with gut-wrenching sweeps of grief rocking through her body now that she’s got Baba Yaga fifteen feet from her. From her and her baby.

“Euphie!” Santino’s voice echoes down the main hall of the museum, lighter now. Almost like they never argued at all. “We’ll talk when I get home, si? Mi amore?”

Euphemia is certain she’s never heard a sentence more infuriating in her entire life. It sparks something violent in her. It had been dormant, had stepped aside for her mourning, but it catches fire the second Santino says, we’ll talk when I get home.

Incensed, she turns and slides the engagement ring off of her finger, throwing it as hard as she can at him. Gianni had been trailing her, certainly at Santino's behest, and he tries to stop her—but it's too late, the fury inside of her forcing her to move more quickly than Gianni anticipates.

He catches her around the waist and she considers, briefly, the logistics of wrenching Gianni's arm off of her to go and slap Santino again; instead, she watches the expensive engagement ring bounce off of the front of Santino's jacket and clatter on the floor.

The way he tilts his head, as though expecting her to lob it at his face, and the irritated expression that comes over him is almost as good as actually having hit her original target of that pretty face of his.

Then, it’s pure, sheer, furious indignation that crosses Santi’s face, but she has no time to think about what that means for her.

“Fuck you, Santi,” she bites out venomously. “Fuck. You. Don’t fucking bother coming home.”

“Bella,” Gianni says, “we should get you back.”

Euphemia debates slapping Gianni, too, but it would be unfair; in his defense, he did try to keep her out of the room. She turns and marches her way out, the doors slamming shut behind her and the cold air of New York in the fall washing over her. As Gianni speaks on the phone and calls the driver around, she glances up at the sky; gray and soft as wedding silk, it stretches, endless, cut in pieces by the skyscrapers parsing it out.

A fool, she thinks. Santino has always made a fool out of me, and this is no one’s fault but my own.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Two hours later, Euphemia hears him enter the loft. He lets the door click shut softly behind him, not slamming it, not storming through. She expected no less; Santi so rarely lets the anger really take hold of him, so rarely lets himself scream or yell or throw something. I’m marrying a fucking sociopath, she thinks, but there’s no heat to the thought; only exhaustion, only a tiredness that goes bone-deep

Even now, she still thinks of it as present tense: she’s marrying a sociopath, as though she didn’t try to hit him in the face with the engagement ring he picked out for her just hours ago, as though in the end, she will still be his. She will.

“Are you calmed down?” Santino asks, in the way that only he could manage—condescending, and soft. Euphemia can’t withhold the vicious scoff that rolls out of her the second he talks.

“I told you not to come home,” she replies tartly, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You are apparently as deaf as you are stupid.”

“So no, then.”

“What do you want me to say, Santi?” Euphemia demands, looking at him now. She’s got a suitcase out but there’s nothing in it; she can’t bring herself to pack, to think about going back home to Tuscany where her mother is waiting, barely sober because she can only stay sober for about a month at a time before she falls back to her old habits. “Why don’t you invite our friend John Wick up for dinner, hm? I’m sure he’d like that, after you did whatever you did to make him show up here. Perhaps you took a page out of that idiot Iosef’s book and killed his new dog?”

“He owes me,” Santino insists, glossing over her needling, “and I will get what I am owed.”

She has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Do you know how fucking stupid you sound?” she asks, incredulous. “If I die before telling you how incredibly, disgustingly stupid you sound when you say that, then I will—”

Santino kisses her. He does it because he knows that she’s not expecting it, and it has its desired effect; she stills, all of the furious energy like bottled lightning capped again. He kisses her softly, with no rage, but she can feel it woven into the sinew of his posture.

She thinks about slapping him again. But he probably knows that, because he grabs her hands, gripping them in his; the pressure is more relaxing than it is infuriating, which almost drives her mad, but it does what Santino always does. It pulls her apart until all that’s left is the hurt, the fear, welling up inside of her like a tidal wave crashing into the shore.

“He’s doing what I asked,” he murmurs. “And then we’ll be done with John Wick. Mia piccola volpe, look at me.”

“No,” she says, trying to sound angry but it comes out an agonized sound; she’s crying before she can stop herself, tears burning the edges of her eyes and a big, wet gasping breath necessary for her to keep going. “No, I don’t want to look at you anymore, Santi—”

“He’s doing what I ask, and then I promise, you and I will be done with John Wick forever.” His voice is urgent and insistent. “The three of us, tesora. Isn’t that right? You weren’t just saying that to get back at me?”

She nods, numbly. They had been careful, because she’d said she wasn’t ready—but mistakes happened. Pills got forgotten. She wishes that she could have lied about it and kept it secret. Maybe he’d be acting differently now if she wasn’t carrying his child; maybe his face would be something else.

“Euphie,” he whispers, taking her face in his hands. “My perfect, gorgeous Euphie—my greatest piece of art.” He kisses her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. “And the one with the most bite, too, even when you are so ungrateful for the things that I do. My face still hurts.”

“Good,” Euphemia manages out, her voice wobbling. “You deserve it. Idiota.”

“Maybe,” Santi replies. He tucks her against his chest and kisses her hair. “I never thought I would piss you off enough to get you to hit me—and you did cause quite a scene in front of Wick.”

“Stop.” Just the sound of that monster’s name makes her stomach churn. “Stress is bad for the baby.”

He laughs, the first real laugh in what feels like days since he’s decided on this path with John Wick. “Fine, I will not mention him again. But know that after this, it will be done. Permanently. Forever. Si? Tell me you understand, Euphie.”

She’s so tired. She’s so tired down into her core, the kind of tired that doesn’t go away with a nap or a cup of coffee. “Si,” she replies, closing her eyes. “Capisco, Santi.”

Somehow, Santi’s words that things will be done “permanently” with John Wick only manage to make her more uneasy.

She can’t remember what exactly carries her through the rest of the evening. She remembers calling her mother to check on her, to ask if she’s keeping up with her meetings. She can’t bring herself to come clean about the surprise pregnancy; it’s early, anyway, and her mother would only stress her out more.

“Sei la mia stella più preziosa,” her mother says. “Ti amo, Effie.”

“Yes, mama,” Euphie sighs, unable to say the words back. “Buona notte.”

She hits the red end call button on the phone screen, setting it face-down on the countertop and leaning her palms against the marble. God, she knows that she’d fucking kill a man for a drag of a cigarette—but she could never. Not now. Not when she has—

The sound of paper on the countertop stirs her from her half-bent position. Santino slides it across to her, setting a pen down next to her hand. It’s their marriage certificate. He’s already signed it, and while she stares at it numbly, he takes her left hand and puts the engagement ring back on her finger, but this time with the diamond wedding band he’d picked out as well.

“Santi,” she starts, but he tsks his tongue, quieting her. She’s too tired to be offended.

“Sign the certificate, amore,” he says. “Do not fuss. You’re going to stop throwing this ring at me, yes?”

There are a million reasons not to sign it: but the words that came out of her mouth are, “We don’t have the witnesses or the officiant.”

“Do we need a witness or officiant greater than God himself?” Santino replies. He leans against the counter from the other side, watching her. He is polished, pristine. Any remains of her earlier transgression against him are now completely gone, at least the physical marks. She’s sure that he won’t forget very soon that she raised a hand against him. “Sign it, Euphie, and be my wife.”

She stares at the paper. She feels like she’s melting; her life can’t be real anymore, not when John Wick was, just hours ago, feet away from her, and she’s pregnant, and now Santino is asking her to sign their marriage certificate right now.

The implications fill her with dread. What’s the rush? If nothing’s wrong, if they’ll be done with John Wick, what’s the rush?

“You said that you had nothing before me,” Santino says, breaking her out of her eerie, absent-minded disconnect. He brushes the hair from her face. “You will never have nothing again.”

Euphemia signs the certificate in a haze. It doesn’t feel any different after; she doesn’t feel different and neither does Santino in relation to her, and the realization that they had felt married for a few years now sinks down on her.

Santino rounds the counter to her, taking her face and kissing her; her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, the corner of her mouth and eventually just kissing her. His hand smooths over her stomach, admiring, and he brushes their noses together.

“Perfetto e tutto mio,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Isn’t that right, Euphemia?”

She replies, without thinking, “Si, sono tuo.”

Always, she thinks, always yours, whether I like it or not.

#santino d'antonio/original female character #john wick oc #santino d'antonio/ofc #john wick #spilled ink #c: euphemia volpe #c: santino d'antonio #c: john wick #x: senza tentazioni senza onore #oh yeah baby real good love the SUFFERING #ugh i wish i could convey how much it means to me to have people reading and enjoy this #alas i can only!!!! cry in the tags #thank you everyone <3

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amindofstone · 3 years

Text

Match up, No. 9

@starlightbydaybright hat gefragt:

Hello! Saw you were taking match-ups and I was wondering if I could request one. Only done one before for another fandom, and I was wondering who I’d align with for One Piece ^^

I'm an INFP and generally an introvert, finding it difficult to express myself when I'm around people I'm unfamiliar with or just not close to. I can be both quiet and shy; quiet when I have no interest in making good impression on that person (a stranger I'll see once and never again) and shy when I'm genuinely trying to make myself acceptable to them. But, I do trust easily, so it's not hard to get close enough with me that I'll open up about almost everything, so long as they understand have my boundaries (that'll shift depending on how close). I'm also very affectionate with people I'm close with, particularly through physical touch, since I've been pretty touch starved. If you're close friends with me, you can find me constantly looking for a hug, but I can respect boundaries since not everyone enjoys contact.

The situation would be a bit different romance wise, since I’d revert a bit back to my introverted side, but also very affection-seeking at the same time. I say affection seeking as in I’d crave time and activities spent together with them, but I’d be afraid to ask/initiate, at least during the early beginnings of the relationship. I’d be constantly seeking affirmation of their love, and since I’ve never been in a relationship before (but desperately wanted one), they’d be constantly receiving my love too ❤️

While being an introvert in reality, I find it much easier to speak with confidence online. as I actually have time to contemplate what I can say. It's when I'm either with close friends or on the internet, that I can go on passionate endless rants or show my passive aggressive side. I'm usually pacifist, but if something irks me enough, I can and will pitch in snide/sarcastic remark or two, or if it's more serious; I will write out whole sophisticated and well worded paragraph that'd sound all polite with a hidden snarky tone.

I'm pretty much a hopeless romantic, so there's lot of couple things I want to try when I find someone. Back hugs, bridal carry, tickle fights, you name it. While I do enjoy these displays of affection (comes with the happy kind of embarrassment aka. I feel embarrassed that others sees it but I’m happy because I know they’re not doing it out of maliciousness and because they truly love me), small gestures are appreciated too; a gentle squeeze of the hand, a passing smile, etc.

As for hobbies, I enjoy reading, writing, (occasionally) drawing, but most of all; probably singing. I enjoy a wide variety of songs, depending on what mood I'm in, but I particularly like songs about love. Looking for someone to sing the duet love songs with me, doesn't matter how good or bad they are at singing. They can be tone deaf for all I care, it's the thought that matters 😊

I'm very emotionally sensitive, and can both laugh and cry easily. A random stranger online wished me good day? I'll be in good mood for awhile. Watched a 'mildly' sad movie? (Extra emphasis on mildly) I better have new box of tissue on the side just in case. It'd be nice to have someone that can either comfort me or at least tolerate my emotions, so I wouldn't be irking them 😞

I don't really have a type when looking for significant other but being an INFP does make the romance thing complicated. It'd be nice to have someone that's far along on the extroverted side (just not happy go lucky and can be serious) since, despite being introverted, I like to experience new things. I'm just too afraid to try alone and prefer it if someone else recommends it first. Someone to prompt me and nudge me to do something, but won’t take it too far if I really looked uncomfortable. (I’m also a procrastinator so they gotta find out the right ratio between pushing vs. taking it too far 😅) In relationship, I'd value trust and loyalty the most, since both are important in keeping the healthy relationship. If both sides could equally trust and be trusted, then there wouldn't be place for insecurity or fear. This ties in with another part of me being an INFP; I want a relationship that lasts forever. While it's weird to decide how long lasting the love will be early in the relationship, I don't think I can fully commit myself to someone, knowing that it'll end (through the other side falling out of love with me, finding interest in someone else, etc.) (natural causes like death are fine, even though I will still be sad 🥲)

As for appearance, I’m a 5”4 female with slightly wavy black hair that reach nearly to my waist. I don’t think I’m particularly short, but then again, every anime character seems to be straight up giants XD (Man, I was born with the wrong genes) I’m overall very plain, with black hair, brown eyes, but I’ve always been told I had pretty long eyelashes and big bright eyes. Average weight for my height, and flat chested :’)

As for the preference for gender, I’m mainly attracted to guys. I had some (very few) crushes on a small selection of female anime characters, but that were very rare, like 3, compared to my (insert large number) male crushes

Thank you in advance and sorry for how long this is 😔

P.s. I feel like I need to emphasize I’m still an introvert, since the personality I described is only limited to my very small friend group

a/n:

Hey there? How are you doing? Thank you so much for requesting. First off I should be apologizing for making you wait so long. I hope you´re not mad at me but lately there is a lot happening in my life. In my private life but also in my college life. But let´s put that aside and get to your request.

I have to thank you for the detailed info about you because that helped me to choose a match up for you so much. Like I instantly could think of someone. Not only did it help me to match you up with someone but also to come up with a plot. So I came up with this little imagine/hedcanon… I really don´t know what to call my work for the imaginies so I go with work. XD Anyways I really don´t know what to do at this point. Your request and your personality gave me such a good idea for a plot that I tried my best to keep it short because I decided to turn this request and my ideas and thoughts that are flying around in my mind to an actual FANFICTION! AHHHHHHHH. I can´t stop thinking about it. The idea sounds so damn good in my head that it makes me smile like an idiot right now! Uff I can´t wait to find time writing it down. AHAHH, but I fear that I already gave aways so much with this!!!! *pouts Doesn´t matter I´ll do it anyways. AHHHHHHHHHHH Thank you so damn much for requesting!

Anyways! Back to my work now. If there is anything that bothers you or you simply hate please make sure to tell me so I can change it and give you whatever you´d like. Other than that happy reading my dear!

Match up rules can be found HERE.

Warning(s): Maybe grammatical or spelling mistakes since English is my third language and I´m still improving in every aspect (Please have mercy on that.)

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. Please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture is not mine. Credits to: I sadly don't know. Please tell me of you know so I can give credits. Thank you in advance. !!!

· I decided to pair you up with KILLER

· Like am I the only person that thinks that he is not getting the screen time and appreciation he deserves? Because that is the damn case! ODA GIVE THIS MAN THE LOVE AND APPRECIATION HE DESERVES. And while we´re at it I wouldn´t mind if I would get a bit more of Eustass Kid too… Thank you in advance. <3

· But that’s not the point. Please dear requesting beautiful human being give this man and me, your hopelessly dreamy author a chance. Thank you, I really appreciate. <3

· aNyWaYssssS.

· “y/n? Are you still awake?”, asked the blond man softly. “No worries I won´t make you carry me to bed again.”, you said with a giggle. You couldn´t see his face but you knew that he was smiling. “I don´t mind that you know? I like having you close to me without having to fear to see you hid under the blanket for who knows how long.”, you rolled you eyes and hit his arms. “That only happened because that idiot captain of yours annoyed the hell out of me. That was embarrassing Killer.”, you slowly put one leg over the railing and then the next one. Making sure you don´t fall down the ship. “What happened? Didn´t you drag me out our cabin to watch the stars?”, asked the muscular man who held you close to him while making sure you didn´t fell. “I did but now I´d like to look at something different. Something even more beautiful. Something that gives me warmth and happiness. Something that keeps me alive and always makes sure I am doing fine.”, talking to the blond pirate while sitting at the railing was one of the rare moments you were close to an eye level with him. “You mean my mask?”, asked the man with a tiled head that got you to roll your eyes and hit his chest. “Great you destroyed the sweet moment. I hate you. Make a step back so I can get down. I want to go back to bed and drown in regret of dating you.”, you tried to push him away but he was obviously stronger and threw you over his shoulder. “Of course you hate me. That was also the exact same thing you were moaning a while ago. Let´s go back to bed nerd.”

· As sweet and loving your relationship was now with the pirate it also started like that. Wanna know how? Alright let me get comfortable in my bed and get started. Story TIIMMMEEEE!!!

· An island well known for their universities and scientist. An island full of top ranked doctors.

· Physics, chemistry, biology, astrology was well thaught in the schools of the island. An island well known around the world. An island ruled by a powerful devil fruit user.

· An island in which every civilian had a talent in another field. And you? You sadly had an impressive talent for languages.

· Why sadly you wonder? Well the amount of times you had to run for your dear life because some pirates could come and kidnap you and make you read the poneglyphs is immense.

· Once even the infamous Red haired Shanks came and asked you with the hope to have someone who could read them. But sadly you couldn´t. You told him that you were done with pirates coming for you or your best friends. You regretted learning all of that and hated yourself for that. Shanks and Beckman to whom your were talking to really felt bad for you and claimed the island as their territory after they had a chat with ruler and made a deal.

· That was that saved you and your friends for years and made you happy. You were thankful to the red hair pirates and always treated them with meals and drinks when they came visiting the island. You were happy for 5 years. 5 years until these stupid reckless pirates came.

· And now? Now you hated yourself all over again

· You knew that not every pirate was like the red hair pirates. Nice and respectful. They didn´t kill innocent people and destroyed civilizations only to get some gold and diamonds. But these? These were horrible. Cold and cruel.

· “Someone make this btch talk otherwise I´ll do it by cutting her into pieces only stropping when IT actually starts to answer my god damn questions!”, screamed a tall and guy with red hair.

· You were scared. Tied on a mast on their ship, you feared for your life. Screaming for help was not an option since you were already on the sea since a while now.

· The man that was yelling at you none stop was now holding a blond man with a mask at his collar and growling at him. The man might have a mask on but you somehow had the feeling that he was talking to the man with the red fur coat. “Clear the deck! NOW!!”; yelled the man before he left inside the ship. Slowly every man on deck was leaving you alone. You wanted to ask them were or why the left but you knew that they wouldn´t give you an answer. You were a prisoner. A captive. A pathetic human they took on board. With the last pirate leaving you behind, a door that was located behind the mast you were tied on closed while the need to cry grew inside of you. How long am I here by now? One hour? Two or three? Was anyone missing me back at home? Were they already looking for me? Thoughts that occupied your mind were blurring your vision. You were looking right in front of you but also not. Your eyes were wide open but your vision was back at home. Home were you belonged.

· “Hey. Hey can you hear me? Hey you alright, woman? Hello?”, a man was squatting in front of you and waving with his hands in front of your face. You were deeply lost in your thoughts that you neither heard him coming nor saw him sitting right in front of you.

· But the moment he touched you tight you screamed and got back to reality. “Please don´t touch me. Please don´t hurt me. Please I beg you. Please.”, fear was written all over your face. You saw yourself death with a huge puddle of your blood. “Alright I won´t touch you. It´s just that I´ve been sitting in front of you for 5 minutes now and the only thing you did was breath and say no. Anyways here is something to drink. You´ve been her for four hours now. Half of the time unconscious and the other one either basically mute or in a trance.”, the guy in front of you was the same one who got the mad man to leave and clear the deck. It made you wonder who he was that he had such a power but you didn´t dare to ask. “Here I hold it for you and you drink.”, the glass was put on your lips and you drank. You didn´t knew how thirsty you were until your lungs were wetted by the water. Finished drinking he put a blanket over your legs since the position your were in didn´t allow you to cover yourself properly. And the fact that you were wearing a dress wasn´t helping at all.

· “Alright. You had something to drink I got you a blanket now tell me are you able to talk to me and answer my questions?”, you nodded. “Good. Now listen to me. There is this language that is called Krisanasy. As far as I know there is a tiny amount of people who are able to speak that and you are one of these. Am I right?”, you nodded. “How well are you in it?”, you gulped and looked at the man with the mask “I know the most important basics. I remember basic grammar rules and a good amount of vocabulary but I´m not that good in it. I didn´t worked with anything that included this language since years now.”, the masked man nodded and fully sat down now. “Would you be able to get back in it if you had some books and scripts to work with?”, slowly you understood where this was supposed to lead. You knew that if you said yes they would keep you as their prisoner and make your work for them. And if they had everything they would kill you because there would be no more use for you. But if you said no now and refused to talk to him he would probably also kill you. You were in a dilemma. You didn´t wanted to die but also didn´t wanted to die after you helped them. They were criminals. Feared and hated by the government and any human around the world. You looked down on your lap and let your head fall forward so your long black hair covered your face. “Hey I asked you something. Would you be able to do that?”, his voice was deep and rough but in the same time soft and gentle. That irritated you. it make you realize that him being nice to you now was just a way to get under your skin and make you do whatever they wanted. And then they simply would kill you in the most brutal and cruel way. “Hey, woman. Are you listening?”, you felt helpless. “I don´t want to die. Please let me go. Please. I beg you. Please.”, tears were streaming down you cheeks you couldn´t hold back anymore. He came closer and lifted you face. “Listen here you are a smart woman. Stop crying for fcks sake. If I would be you I would have made these pirates work for me. Use your damn brain and stop crying. Do you really think anyone in here would kill you? Heck no! They need your help. They need your brain because all of them are basically stupid. Like damn I need you to answer all of my questions before my captain with anger issues comes and beats the sht out of me. Now answer me woman. Are you able to get back in it if we got you some scripts to work on?”, you nodded while more tears streamed down you cheeks. You felt pathetic. You felt worthless and used. Helping them would turn you into a criminal too and ruin everything you worked on. Everything the emperor did for you and the island would be wasted. “See wasn’t that hard to answer.”

· The questioning went on for a while you didn´t know for how long but you knew that a long time passed since the sun stared to set. “Alright. Now I give you two options. One, stay here. Tied up on the mast no matter what kind of weather we face. Two you swear to obey me no matter what kind of order I give you and you will be able to sleep on a bed. You will get food and tomorrow you will start working on the scripts we give you. You choose.”, with your head hung lowly you said number two and instantly got released from the chains and handcuffs. He helped you stand up and covered you in the blanket before he led you into his cabin. “Wait here. Sit there and don´t do anything stupid as long as I´m not here. If you do anything stupid I won´t be able to help you. Got it?”, he didn´t even wait until you answered or gave any reaction he simply left and closed the door after him. So you waited while sitting with a lowly hung head. Minutes passed and he came back. “Your clothes are dirty. The bathroom is empty so you can take a bath or shower. Anything you want but I´ll be in the room with you. Because of one I have to make sure no one is coming in and secondly to watch over you and make sure you don´t do anything stupid. Got it. Fine. Take this towel and these clothes. We don´t have any female crewmates so you have to be wearing with my clothes until we dock on another island and you get to buy clothes.”

· The man with the mask took care of you for the rest of the day. He took you to shower and gave you fresh clothes. You had dinner with him alone in the kitchen when no one was around and got back to sleep. And no matter what you did he made sure to keep a respectful distance towards you. Whenever he had to come closer or touch you to take care of your wounds he would warn you. The day kept going like that. Nothing else was said about the following days and the thing they wanted you for. Only necessary things were said that were needed at the moment. And you only gave short replays or only answered with a head movement.

· Slowly the day passed by and the night took over with the moon putting the world alight. You were back in his cabin with him sitting on an armchair and you lying in bed sleeping with one hand tied up on the bed.

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hongism · 3 years

Note

Hello caly/calypso/hongism/author of one of the best (of THE best, perhaps?) Ateez fanfics to grace the internet! This is gonna be long af dream stuff but

It is I, the poly of the roly, here to tell you:

Last night or sometime recently (it's hard for me to keep track of the days because I work 12 hour shifts overnight) I'd checked your blog as I do every couple days to a week depending how busy I am and saw the ask that was about the moc update and you were all sure let me put my life on hold real quick no BIG ! (BTW I haven't checked yet but if you've still got all that work ahead of you I hope you're taking GOOD care of yourself and getting plenty of rest 😤 and I will send good vibes to wherever you are so if you find random money or a stranger buys you a sandwich or something then I'll pretend it's because my vibes so good vibes so strong) so anyway I had seen that right after I got home from work and then passed right out so in my dream you ended up uploading the next chapter because a bunch of people had been hounding for an update and you were v v upset and didn't want to answer any asks understandably but THEN. then. Moc got turned into a TV show and it was fuckin COOL caly, way cooler than I'd ever imagined. And then because dream things it shifted from me watching it as a TV show to it being the reality i was in and at first I was y/n until I was like wait but I'm not a girl and then y/n was you (kind of, she was called Calypso, Caly for short and I don't really remember what she looked like besides brown hair which is what I've always pictured y/n with so she was you? But like your online persona I guess lol) and we were preparing to go rescue San and there was a LOT of tension between y/n and Seonghwa (also when my dream supplied you as y/n I remember thinking like o shit now we're gonna get a LOT of tension between her and joong lmao). I don't really remember what my story was like how I ended up there, I think I was just enlisted randomly for help like someone knew of my status and sought me out? But originally I was pretending to be a spectre when I was actually a normie who was very good at rogue-esque shit. Jongho was my first friend because y/n wouldn't talk to me cause I guess I was a lil too sus for her. Later Yunho and I became friends through constantly making faces at each like we were on the office whenever anything awkward happened between seonghwa and y/n trying to skirt around each other (I think seonghwa and hongjoong were together....? I don't remember!) and eventually there was some *other* stuff between Yunho and I at WHICH POINT. IT WAS DISCOVERED THAT I WAS APPARENTLY A SIREN BUT HAD LITERALLU NO MEMORY OF IT BEVAUSE *serum thingz* AND had no access to the dreamscape or didn't realize I was there when dreaming once again I do not remember. But basically it's my dream so it had to make me special lmfao also I don't remember anything about the actual mission but we got San back and there was a really cute reunion with him and all the crew but ALSO a very long awaited SMOOCH between San and y/n with hands squeezing each other's faces as if to make sure they'll never disappear again it was so cute. And then I realized I had a lot of shit to work out since I had a whole life I needed to figure out so once it was all over, I left without much of a goodbye and it stopped showing it from my pov and more like I was watching it like a show again and so for a few episodes of the moc TV show yunho had a short lived but very fiery romance with a normie-pretend-spectre-actually-siren who slipped quietly off the ship with little more than a pat on Yunhos shoulder v.v thank you for reading my dream fanfiction moc TV show sorry it was so long and BASICALLY WENT NOWHERE

-- rolypoly (also I forgot to mention but in my dream when I saw that you'd updated because you were tired of people bothering you about an update I was very bummed for you and didn't even read it. But I did watch the TV show. Although I didn't really have a choice because my eyes were basically a camera at that point. Dream stuff fun stuff)

BESTIE THIS WAS A WHOLE TRIP AND A HALF?!?!? ngl im pretty tipsy rn so it's even more of a trip than the first time i read it goodness im in love with this concept tho like yunho deserves it moc needs more drama as we all know it doesn't have NEARLY enough drama as it is!??! altho i must say,,,,,, an ? a ? for some reason saying a moc outloud sounds really wrong but anyways that's not even important at all just a tv show after moc would be so fun i would watch it i would love it i love that idea but don't you worry im not posting that chapter until i'm happy with it, so sadly that means everyone has to wait a little while longer for it to be up to my standards 😔💔

#rolypoly anon #moc: spoilers #mists of celeste

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty

Words: 4K

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

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"...Viv?!" Nikki's voice echoes through the house and I continue turning over everything in our bedroom for the fourth time tonight.

"What, babe?!" I reply, glancing at the clock to see it's only 1:30am.

"Look who I found!" He calls back and I let out a sigh of frustration in myself for not being able to find it, and I stand from the floor and step into our living room. "Yeah?"

I stop in my tracks at the sight of crooked teeth grinning widely at me, overzealous clothing adorning one...

"Andy!" I pipe.

"Vivian!" He enthusiastically exclaims, his accent wrapping around every syllable of my name.

He's swallowing me in a tight hug, laughing, before pulling away to cup my face with his ring-heavy fingers.

"You look a little tired." He tells me.

I put my hands on his cheeks, holding his face like he is mine, not skipping a beat as I say:

"You look a little sober."

His teeth show with his genuine grin and he chuckles.

"Because I am." He confirms my suspicion and happiness floods me.

"That's great, Andy, oh, God, that's great." I smile, the two of us breaking away from each other as Nikki clears his throat.

"What're you doing in L.A.?" I ask, ignoring Nikki scowling at the two of us.

"I'm thinking about moving here--thinking." He emphasizes on "thinking."

"Why just 'thinking'?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"It's so fuckin' loud, Vivian, it's so loud." He groans a little, rubbing his forehead. "I only like my music loud."

"Well, ye--"

"--Andy, c'mere." Nikki cuts in from our bedroom.

I hadn't even noticed he went in there.

"Coming." He says to him, the two of us heading to Nikki.

Once we step foot into the bedroom, my heart tightens in my chest as Nikki's standing at the closet door with it wide open, smirking.

"I wanna show you something." He tells him, motioning into the closet, that's completely pitched dark, looking like a sadistic carnie inviting a freshly sober Andy into his heroin hell.

"Nikki." I warn, glaring at him.

"Fuck off, Viv." Nikki states as Andy walks to him, curiously.

"Nikki--"

"He's a big boy, Vivian." Nikki cuts me short.

Ah, yes. Another thing Nikki took up as a form of entertaining himself: trying to get people to shoot up with him.

Didn't matter if they'd never done it before, had been sober for a couple months, or a couple years...it was a challenge in his eyes and he enjoyed it.

I rub my lips together nervously as Nikki waves me off and I let out a sigh, going to the kitchen.

It doesn't take long at all before Andy's walking into the kitchen, his brows furrowed and his eyes wild with confusion.

"Psst, V!" He whisper yells as I open my Pepsi and I look at him.

He gets closer to me.

"He's got a habit." He tells me, referring to Nikki.

I want to burst out into laughter.

A habit? No shit, Sherlock.

Which I can't blame, Andy. He has no idea the utter hell Nikki has been in and projected onto everyone else the past year.

But taking one look at Nikki's disgusting, strung out, hellacious closet-- filled with used needles, plastic lemons, cotton, pipes, burnt carpet, spoons, empty bottles and bodily fluid stains--is what made this man realize he's got a "habit"? Ray fucking Charles can see that Nikki's got a habit.

All anybody has to do is take one look at him at the end of the night...or just smell him.

Apparently I'm smiling because Andy's scolding me.

"That's not fucking funny, Vivian, what the hell are you laughing about?" He questions me.

"Me, and everybody else around him, is aware he's got a problem, Andy. Trust me." I assure him and he rolls his jaw.

"Then why aren't you doing a thing about it?"

"You know it doesn't work like that." I tell him, shaking my head.

"I wish it did." He admits, looking back at the kitchen door to make sure Nikki isn't there. "Look, I told him he has an issue and needs help, but I know the bastard won't listen. So I'm telling you." He points at me. "He's this close," he holds his thumb and pointer finger apart by barely the width of a single hair, "to being out."

"I know. Okay? I know. But I can't do anything. He won't listen, he won't listen to me, or Doc, or Bob Timmons, or his friends or--"

"--Why would he listen to his friends telling him to get help when they're all on the same bloody thing?" He asks me.

I raise a brow, realizing he's got a point. "Childhood, and friends, influence who we are." He states wisely. "I won't be back around here until he's laid his mess to rest." He adds.

"I understand." I assure him, the gears in my mind starting to turn as he heads to our front door and I follow him.

He turns to face me, kissing my cheek.

"Keep your head clear." He orders me, once again.

Oh, I was.

A week later, I'm still trying to figure out a way to talk to Nikki about sobering up before the tour, but I know he's one step ahead of me.

Dealers have been coming to the house less and less.

I grab my overnight bag from the passenger seat after coming back from staying the night with Sharise and Skylar, before stepping to the front door.

I turn my key in the lock and open it, immediately hit with the smell of a shitshow.

People are passed out from the foyer to the living room, spreading into the kitchen and more than likely the hallways.

Empty cups, glasses, bottles, syringes, bindles, baggies, cigarette packages, abandoned condom wrappers and full condoms, all litter my fucking house.

Broken dishes, stains on the carpet, cigarette burns on our furniture, broken picture frames that were accidentally knocked off the walls, and inevitably more damage to be determined, all greet me as I make my way through the house, trying to keep from panicking as vomit and exposed genitalia is nearly everywhere I step.

I open our bedroom to see naked strangers in our bed, and I step to the closet to see Nikki, passed out, a nearly naked Tansy beside him.

There weren't many times where Tansy wasn't nearly naked at that point.

I let out a breath, realizing I've spoken too soon on the state of Nikki's attempt to get off drugs.

I cross my arms and kick at Nikki's side with my boot until he's groaning awake.

"Is there any chance you found my ring last night?" I ask him, furrowing my brows, because his exact words before I left were "I'll look for your ring tonight, baby."

He let's out another incoherent grumble before his eyes are closing slowly.

"Okay." I reach my hand past him and grab his shotgun, making sure it's loaded as I go to the back door, opening it, standing out from under the shade area by the door, before firing into the air.

The racket tears through the house, startling people awake as I fire off three shots, and I come back into the house to see wide eyes and confused expressions.

"Get out!" I pipe, clapping my hands together repeatedly, kicking gently at people to herd them up and get them to the door.

Within fifteen minutes they're all scattered on the curb of the street outside our gate, and I'm locking my house and getting a good look at the hellhole.

Slash's girlfriend is stumbling out of our guest bedroom before rubbing her sleepy face and looking at me.

"He's messed the bed." She tells me, sleepy frustration in her voice.

"What?"

"Slash, he's messed the bed."

I don't know what she means by that, but when I walk in and see the puddle underneath him, I groan.

He wet the bed.

"I'll scrub the mattress, I promise." She assures me and I shake my head.

"I'm scrubbing it and mine, anyway, so don't worry about it." I tell her. "You do need to wake him up, though, alright? He's got rehearsal in a couple hours."

"Yeah, I'm already on it." She assures me. "Right after I puke my guts out." Her face pales and I scramble to grab a boot off the floor at our feet and she throws up into it as I hold her hair back.

"Viv?" Stevie asks tiredly from the couch, a naked girl passed out on top of him and I run a hand through my hair.

"Okay, how many of you are here?" I ask him.

"Him, Slash, and Duff." Slash's girlfriend replies after dry heaving some more.

"Duff?" I think I mishear her.

"Yeah?" His tired, hungover voice is asking me and I take a few steps into the living room seeing him shirtless, covered in lipstick marks, by the fireplace, passed out, two completely naked girls on either side of him.

When I'm standing over him, his eyes are slowly blinking open before closing again.

"Hey, Viv." He mumbles.

His bloodshot eyes are soon bugging open and he's sitting up so fast, he has to vomit, and he's accidentally spewing it all over girl number 1's torso, causing her to squeal out in disgust.

"I am so sorry, holy shit." Duff apologizes to her as I rush to grab some paper towels to help her clean herself up.

When I get back, he's helping her wipe off with his discarded t-shirt.

"You can use our shower." I tell her, helping her up, and she covers her exposed body the best she can as I lead her to mine and Nikki's bathroom.

When I get back in the living room, Steven's pulling his clothes on, and Duff's standing up, and they both have something in common.

"With all due respect, please put your bushes away." I say in reference to their pubes hanging out of their unzipped pants.

"Oh, sorry." Duff says, zipping his pants up.

"Gimme a second, Viv, alright, it's a process." Steven tells me. "If they get caught in my zipper--"

"--Got it, Stevie." I squeeze my eyes shut as I tell him.

"I'm gonna go get Nikki up an--"

"--Hey, I'm sorry about your mattress but, I didn't mean to." Slash slurs, his pants nowhere to be found and I keep my eyes closed the second I get an eyeful of everything down south.

I have seen too many penises in the past twenty minutes I am...I am..." I try to speak. "...I am...I am going to church. That's what I'm gonna do. And when I get back, I want the girls gone, I want Nikki and Tansy up, I want my guest bed mattress cleaned up, and I want the penises put away." I sigh out, going to my bedroom to get dressed. "Also, if any of you happen to find my wedding ring, I would appreciate it."

Duff ended up meeting me after church to apologize, which he really didn't have to.

There's a lot of stuff he's apologized for that he really didn't have to.

He just likes to keep peace and make sure there's no ill feelings left undisclosed.

He's always been that way.

"Duff, don't worry about it, alright?" I ask, stepping to my car.

"No, seriously, Viv, we helped trash your house and I'm sorry."

"Duff--"

"--And I-I know Nikki's got his shit he's struggling with and last night none of us tried to keep him out of trouble and it was just really shitty." He goes on.

"Duff, it's okay. I'm not mad." I tell him, honestly.

"Really?"

"Yes, now get to rehearsal before Axl shits a brick."

"I just came from rehearsal. He didn't show." He shrugs.

"He didn't what?" This catches my attention. "That's like the fifth time this single month."

"Well, it's just how he is. If everything isn't perfect, he just stays to himself until it is in his mind." He explains.

"But that's useless because everything gets to him."

"...Yeah, but, I mean, we're all use to it by now so it's really nothing. He does take it seriously, he really does. He just handles things the way he handles them is all."

"He just handles things the way he handles them" is something I'd hear repeatedly in the years to follow from everyone around Axl as he became more and more difficult.

He didn't make rehearsal? "That's just him."

He didn't make a show? "He's just going through some stuff."

He indirectly started a riot that hurt and killed fans? "He's trying, he really is."

The issue: all the "yes" men he had surrounding him that refused to argue or speak up against him.

And all the guys would just keep their mouths shut to avoid pulling the pin on the angry-Axl bomb.

I had to have an eye on me at all times when I was around him because I reached a point I'd just start fights with him--especially after Steven was kicked out--anytime he did something assholish, because Axl always went big or went home no matter what he did, and they'd sometimes get physical.

But unlike Nikki or Vince or Robbin or anyone else I'd hit over the years, Axl would hit back, and hit back hard.

We'd be as bad as drunk frat boys with everybody and anybody trying to get and keep us separated while Monroe would be in the next room oblivious that his mom and God-Father were going at it like a dog fight.

I found out later that, that big party was a "goodbye" to Nikki's smack addiction because he actually managed to get it together somewhat in the months to follow.

Nikki's gaining a tighter grip on my hand as Doc and Rich Fischer, the bands tour manager, go over the schedule for the tour with us.

"We will staying in the same location for about a week, and just traveling to the surrounding locations for the actual shows an--"

"--Woah, woah, woah," Tommy starts, "why?"

"You guys will have a jet so it'll just be easier that way instead of having to try to fly to a city that's just an hour away if we drive." Rich cuts in to explain.

Translation: if we travel city to city, you have a higher chance to get into trouble, whereas if we stay in the same city for several days at a time, you'll get bored with it quicker.

What actually happened: staying in the same location for so long just gave them more time to rack up dealers and figure out what places they shouldn't have gone, but went anyway and still get into plenty of trouble without Doc's knowledge.

"Now, we sent in the request to have your jet spray painted black with the naked chick on the side, but the best they could do was a half naked girl riding the bomb." Doc states next and Nikki groans like a child, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses.

"Tansy, you and Sparkie are gonna be tagging along, so we've already booked rooms for you guys, as well." Doc assures her and she nods.

"Thanks, Doc."

"And guys, since the past tours have been a little hectic because kids will come into the hotel or be at the shows and pick up on what you're up to or where you're at because they'll hear us say your names and they'll start tuning in, we've given everybody a number for security purposes." Fred adds, pulling a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket. "1: Doc, 2: Me, 3: Rich, 4: Tansy, 5: Vince, 6: Nikki, 6½: Vivian, 7: Mick, and 00: Tommy. And Tommy, Vince, when Sharise or Heather is along with us we'll have Sharise set as 5½, and 00½, alright?"

"Sounds good." Vince nods.

"Dude, '00'." Tommy grins, happy with his code number before he turns to Mick. "We're 007, man." He nudges Mick in the arm. "Except instead of killing bad guys, we're killing pussy."

"Yes, because that's exactly what I'm known for." Mick replies sarcastically.

"I think it's cool." Tommy states.

"And that's all that matters, drummer." Mick assures him, his hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Does Sparkie get a number?" Tansy asks next.

"If he gets sought out and mauled, he gets sought out and mauled. There's nothing we can do." Nikki bluntly replies to her and everybody attempts not to chuckle.

"4½, Tans." Fred forces his laughter back to keep from hurting her feelings.

"Be nice." I say quietly to Nikki and he smirks.

"I am." He argues lightly.

"North America through November, then Japan until the end of December, then Europe at the start of '88, and back to North America in the Spring." Rich tells us. "Of course you'll have breaks in between, but that's that for the most part. We'll be on the road for almost a year. Any questions?"

They all stay quiet and he nods.

"Alright, I'll see you guys in a couple weeks and we'll head to Tucson." He assures us.

"Woo!" Tommy gives a couple of claps, a happy smile on his face as we all stand up to leave our meeting.

Once we get out in the parking lot of the office, he's nudging at my shoulder.

"Where we goin', Viv?" He asks me and I raise my brows.

"What do you mean, Tommy?"

"Tonight, remember? We've got a date." He adds.

"We do?"

"Yeah, I told you last week I wanted to hangout and you said tonight would be fine." He explains.

"Oh, yeah." I nod, glancing at Nikki. "Are you--"

"I'm meeting up with Steven anyway, babe, you go." He rubs his jaw and I look at Tommy.

"So, what do you wanna do?" He asks next and I raise my brows.

"Umm..."

Within a few minutes we're sitting in my car, listening to "Space Truckin'" by Deep purple, eating icecream while he rambles on about his love life.

"And I love her, Viv, I really do, ya know? But she doesn't take in to consideration my feelings and how I feel about stuff. It's bullshit."

I gasp dramatically, sarcastically.

"You mean, Heatherland isn't as fun as advertised? Oh, no. How terrible."

"Ha ha, Viv, funny, but I'm being serious." He states. "Like, right now. We're in a rut."

"What kind of rut?"

"Like...okay, we love each other. I know we do. But I don't feel like I'm in love with her anymore."

"Tommy that's normal." I tell him. "If you're with the same person, you're gonna eventually feel like that. It doesn't mean you aren't in love with her, it just means you're out of the honeymoon phase." I shrug. "Do you still like her?"

"Of course." He tells me.

"Then you're fine. When you stop liking her, is when you may need to talk about some stuff. Also," I take another bite of icecream, "sleeping with other women probably isn't helping anything so I'd stop that, too, if I were you."

He doesn't say anything before letting out a breath.

"I know I shouldn't do it, but, Viv, it's not like it really means anything, really. It's just a pastime, ya know?"

"Tommy, Chess is a pastime. Girls aren't, when you're married." I explain.

"Well, you don't really get it, Viv." He shrugs.

"Agree to disagree." I mumble, taking another bite of dessert.

A long moment of quiet passes before he chuckles a little to himself.

"What?" I ask him and he shakes his head a little.

"Just remembering the look of horror on your mom's face when she came and found us after she found out I was in Mötley Crüe." He explains and I also remember how terrified she was, and start laughing.

"We had to hid Nikki under the table at the Rainbow when we saw her car pull up." I recall.

"She was so freaked out, dude. I thought her mouth was gonna start foaming."

"Then you freaked out when she started speaking in tongues."

"Oh, she was? I just thought she was so pissed she forgot how to talk."

We're both almost wheezing at this point.

"Viv?" He says when he calms down and I raise my brows and look at him.

"Yeah?"

"I miss being close like we use to be." He admits. "And I know we stopped hanging out for a while after I got married but that's partly my fault, too."

"It's mine, too, Tommy." I assure him. "And I'm sorry I haven't really tried to spend time with you one-on-one after Nikki and I got married."

"I was upset at first, but now that Heather and me are married, I get that sometimes you gotta prioritize."

"Yeah, you do." I finish my icecream.

"Especially when you start having kids." He adds and I try to play off the spiking of my nerves.

"You guys want kids, right? I mean, you were both pretty ready for it when you thought you were pregnant that one time right after you got married."

"I'm waiting for Nikki to get it together before we try for any." I say.

"He told me he's gotten off Methadone and he's holding up pretty good."

"He is." I confirm. "He's doing good."

It wasn't a lie. Nikki had finally given up on trying to fix his problem himself and asked Bob for help.

He got in on a Methadone program and got off of it as soon as he could to avoid getting hooked on it, too. He still drank and snorted a little coke, but he went weeks without touching junk or smoking crack.

I really should have told him more than I did, how proud I was of him.

I also should have told him I experienced disappearing twin syndrome before miscarrying altogether, and every single one before that, but it would have knocked him off his sobriety in a heartbeat.

I planned on telling him, I just didn't know when or how, but I knew I wanted to wait until he was at least a year sober.

It obviously didn't turn out like that.

I drop Tommy off back at the office to grab his bike before I head home to see Vanity sitting on the front steps by the door.

"Is Nikki not with you?" She asks me.

"Um, no, I think he went to meet Steven." I explain to her.

"Oh...well, do you know where they may be?"

I open the door and sigh out, turning to face her.

"Vanity, Nikki's doing well. He's got his shit together for the most part and I don't think it would be a good idea to be around him if you're just going to bring him back down to where he use to be." I tell her.

Her soft smile falls.

"I'm really not trying to offend you. You're my friend and I love you but that stuff isn't good for you and maybe you should follow Nikki's example. I mean, if he can do it, almost anybody can."

"You don't get it, do you?" She asks me and I furrow my brows. "I'm not the one causing him to do any of it, Viv. You are."

"What?" I furrow my brows.

"You have a tumultuous relationship and it makes him want to escape." She explains.

"Vanity, you don't know a thing about our relationship so don't go there."

"I know what he tells me."

"What Nikki tells you, or what who he is when he's stoned, tells you? Because Nikki takes responsibility for his shit. Who he is when he's strung out, avoids it at all cost and just points his finger at everybody else." I state.

"I know all I need to know simply based off how he acts when you aren't around." She insists.

"And how exactly does he act, Vanity?" I start to lose my patience, taking a step toward her.

"Like. Himself." She says through a clenched jaw.

"You don't know him like you think you do." I tell her, shaking my head.

"And neither do you." She guarantees.

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

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