#they just irritate me now! i got halfway through one last week and had to bail i just could not care less | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

photogirl894 · 10 months

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@clonexreaderbingo

Square: Kix

It's been a bit since I've posted a bingo one shot; I had a slight block with this one, but now it is complete! Shoutout to @l-lend for helping me with the idea 😊 Love you, bestie!!

"Kix, you've got to take a break. You're gonna work yourself to death."

Your best friend, Kix, who was a medic of the 501st, had been dealing with so many patients in the past couple weeks. You weren't even sure when was the last time he'd slept. He'd been practically living at the Coruscant med bay and you had barely seen him pretty much until now. He'd only gotten back to the apartment you two shared to pick up some more medical supplies.

"I can't, I've got too many patients," he told you.

"You know there are other medics in the GAR that can take care of things for you," you told him.

"I'll be fine. I have to help my brothers," he replied, digging through a case of vials.

You put a hand over his to stop him from grabbing more vials. "Kix! You're not the sole medic of the entire Clone army!" you scolded him. Being closer to him, you could now see the dark rings under his eyes. "When was the last time you even got any sleep?"

He sighed. "I don't know…but I'm fine."

"Kix…!" you groaned, irritated.

He collected all the supplies he'd gotten into his pack and called over his shoulder, already halfway to the door, "I'll be back later!"

You groaned aloud again. You were getting worried about him. If he kept this up, he was either going to get himself sick or worse, but he was a stubborn one. When he set his mind to something, he stuck with it. Some days, you loved that about him; other days, like this one, it infuriated you to no end. It didn't help that you secretly held deeper feelings for your best friend, not wanting to potentially ruin your friendship, so when you worried about him, it only doubled because of that.

"Medics are the worst…," you mumbled to yourself. You yourself were a technician who'd been hired by the Grand Army and by now, it was time for you to go to work. You had an appointment to make, so you got your datapad and other tools needed and left the apartment.

Over an hour passed and, just as you were finishing up with your work for a client, your commlink chirped, followed by a voice you knew, saying, "(Y/N), it's Captain Rex. You need to get to the med bay. Kix has collapsed."

Kix's body ached, his head throbbed, his throat was on fire, he felt hot and cold at the same time and he had shivers. His eyes heavily fluttered open and he realized the ceiling didn't match the med bay's. It looked like…the ceiling of your apartment. How did he end up here? The last thing he remembered was getting a med patch for another injured Clone and then things got fuzzy. Why was he back here and not with his patients?

He attempted to move and his whole body and head twinged in pain. A moan escaped his mouth as he tried to push himself up, noticing his armor was gone and he was only in his black undersuit.

"Oh no, you don't. You are not getting out of that bed."

Your voice sounded from a few feet away and, with another groan, he turned his head to see you coming towards him with a steaming bowl in your hands. The look on your face was a mix of relief and immense irritation. He recognized your surroundings and realized that he was indeed in your apartment somehow.

"How did I get here?" Kix asked you as he forced himself to sit up and put a hand up to his head.

"We had to bring you here on a stretcher. It wasn't easy, but luckily, Rex and Jesse helped me," you told him.

Kix sighed, trying to push aside the aching throughout his body. "What are you talking about?" Then he let out a startled yelp as you pulled out a pain relief stim from your pocket and injected it into his neck without warning.

"You collapsed in the med bay, you idiot!" you exclaimed as you put the stim down and sat on the edge of bed, carefully handling the hot bowl you had in your other hand. "I got a comm from Rex telling me to come get you because you had passed out. I told you that you've been working too hard and look at what happened."

Kix rubbed at his neck where you had just injected him and said while shivering, "I'm sh--sure it was j--just coincidence. If I…get back up and moving, I'll be f--fine."

"You're really still going to argue with me about this?" you asked back.

By this point, he was attempting to move his legs to the edge of bed while still moaning from aches. "I h--have patients to attend to. They n--need me," he said, almost slurring his words as he got over the side of the bed and stood up shakily.

You spoke up, "What about me, Kix? Don't you think I need you?" When he looked back at you through heavy eyes, you said to him, "I need my best friend and if you keep this up, he's going to slowly disappear. I've been charged by Captain Rex to take care of you and keep you here until you've regained your health."

His lips curled down, unamused. "Are you...s--serious?"

"Yes. So get back in this bed and eat this soup. That's an order."

"You can't…give me orders."

"I can when I've been ordered by your Captain to look after you. Now get back in bed right now before I have to sedate you."

The firmness and authority in your voice right then was strangely intimidating to Kix. It was almost scary. He knew you could be tough when you wanted to be, but you'd never gotten this way with him. He was going to respond, but he could feel his legs shaking and his body was weak. He lost his balance, but you stopped him. You moved quicker than he'd ever seen you; putting the bowl down on a table at the end of the bed and jumping up to catch him around his waist.

"You medics really are the worst patients," you commented to him as you pulled him back and helped lower him back onto the bed.

As you turned him, got his legs under the covers and sat him up against the wall, he said back tiredly, "You technicians are the worst doctors."

Picking up the bowl and scooping some soup into the spoon, you replied, "Yet I'm the one doing a better job at taking care of you. Now, shut up and eat."

You held the spoon up to his lips and he reluctantly opened it, letting you feed the hot soup you'd made into his mouth. It was savory and tasty and the heat helped the soreness in his throat. You had figured Kix would resist staying here, but he was really giving you a run for your money. Luckily, once the first bite of soup went down, you could see him physically start to relax against the wall and sink just slightly into the bed. It seemed like he was now allowing himself to relax. You got another spoonful of soup ready, held it up and fed it to him.

After a couple more bites, Kix said your name in a weak voice that made your heart swell with pity for him. You looked up and found him looking at you with exhausted eyes and a tired smile.

"Thank you…," he said through an exhale.

You smiled back. "Of course, Kix."

His head began to fall forward and you could tell he was going to succumb to sleep at any second. You urged him to lay down flat on his back and pulled the covers up all the way to help keep him warm. Almost immediately, he was out. As he lightly started snoring, you ran your hand over his buzzed, tattooed head.

"You idiot," you said affectionately before softly kissing his forehead.

Fortunately for you, you didn't have anymore clients for work for the rest of the day or the next day either, so you were able to just stay home and be there for Kix, if he needed you. Though, you could tell that the Clone was incredibly sleep-deprived because it wasn't until the afternoon the next day that Kix woke up. His rest had been a bit fitful from time to time from aches and chills, but you had given him medicine and helped lull him back to sleep each time.

When he awoke, he took a moment to assess his situation. It appeared his fever had broken and he no longer had chills. There were still slight aches in his muscles and he still felt a bit weak, but it was already a vast improvement. He slowly sat up, grunting loudly enough for you to hear him waking up in the other room.

A few seconds later, you walked into the room and quietly greeted him. When he looked up at you, you had a sweet smile on your beautiful face that made him feel warmer than any of your homemade soup ever did, which only prompted him to smile back. In your hands, you held a cup of steaming tea and you brought it over to him.

"How are you feeling?" you asked him as he took the cup.

He heaved a heavy sigh. "I'm still a bit weak and will need more time to properly recover, but all things considered…I feel much better. Especially with you here."

You grinned timidly. "You definitely seem better," you commented.

He took a sip of the tea and then asked, "How long was I out?"

Your eyebrows shot up and you answered, emphasizing each word, "Twenty. Whole. Hours, Kix."

His eyes widened and he nearly spit out the second sip of tea he'd taken. "What?"

Nodding, you said, "Yeah…you haven't slept in days, so I'd say you needed every second of that very long rest."

Kix looked down into the dark tea, catching a glimpse of his tired reflection. "I really have been bad about taking care of myself lately, haven't I?"

"You're dedicated to your work and to helping others and I admire that about you," you said, laying your hand on his shoulder, "but sometimes, you get too caught up in what you do. You try to take on the entire workload of the whole Grand Army all on your own, it seems, sometimes. It's okay to take a step back when you're feeling overworked and take a break."

He sighed, closed his eyes and nodded. "I know you're right. I just hate feeling like I'm letting my brothers down if I do."

Your hand came up to his cheek and you gently urged him to look at you. "You know none of the Clones would ever think that of you," you assured him, your thumb rubbing his cheek. "Taking care of yourself isn't selfish. Taking care of yourself makes it so you can still continue helping others, which is what you're best at." Then you worked up what courage you had and placed a kiss on his other cheek.

At the contact of your lips on his skin, Kix froze up slightly in surprise and turned to meet your eyes when you pulled back, reaching up and grasping your hand on his cheek. Something about the look he could see in your eyes was stirring up a wave of emotions within him that he hadn't felt before.

"I don't know if I'm still delirious from being sick or not…and you don't have to say 'yes', but…can I kiss you?" he asked of you.

For a moment, you wondered if you were now getting sick because there was no way you'd heard him right…but the way he was looking at you and the fact you could feel him ever so slowly leaning towards you told you otherwise.

In a shaky whisper, you replied, "Kix…I've never wanted to say 'yes' to you more than I do right now."

Kix's eyes went wide a little, shocked at how quickly and how positively you responded to him. Then, with a relieved smile, he closed the distance and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to your lips. You felt a small shiver go up your spine, hardly believing this was actually happening.

When he pulled back, he said hesitantly, "I know you're not supposed to kiss anyone when you're sick…but I couldn't help myself."

"I don't care," you said back. "I've…actually wanted to kiss you for a while. I was afraid to because you're my best friend and I was worried it would ruin our friendship."

"Honestly…I had thought the same thing," he admitted.

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, really."

You smiled again with giddiness and nuzzled his nose. "We're both pretty hopeless, I guess. Now, keep drinking that tea, soldier."

He looked down at the tea and then back at you. "I don't know. I think that kiss helped cure me and I feel a lot better."

"Mmm nice try," you said, smirking knowingly.

"Ah, really thought I was gonna get away with that," he said with fake disappointment.

"It's like I said: medics really are the worst patients," you responded.

He grinned back. "Well, I have to be in order to get someone like you to take care of me."

Even though you couldn't deny the butterflies you got in your stomach at his statement, you just smiled at him and replied, "Flattery is only going to get you so far with me." Then you kissed him again before ordering him, "Drink your tea and I'll get some more medicine for you."

"Yes, ma'am."

Clone x Reader Bingo 2023

#star wars the clone wars #clone wars kix #kix x reader #cfb2023

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 years

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easy on the eyes (three fateful midnights) - midnight one

Corinthian x f!Reader

Story Masterlist

a mini prequel to 'easy on the eyes', chronicling the start of the romance between Corinthian and the Reader, across three fateful midnights.

Warnings: smut (18+), cursing, brief mention of violence

Word count: 5.3k

midnight one - "you look like you might need me"

midnight two - "this can be as real as we want it to be"

midnight three - "darling, i'm not ready to let you go"

midnight one

I don't want to be here. Here in a loud, sweaty club, surrounded by inebriated and probably horny 20-somethings.

This is not my perfect Friday night. At all.

But one of my best friends had plucked me out of the safety of my bedroom, using the excuse "It's my birthday in a week, so the celebration starts now!"

I didn't want to let him down, and I thought, maybe he's right. I haven't gone out in a long time, so perhaps I need a change of scenery.

Boy, was I wrong. It's not that I don't enjoy music or drinking or dancing, and I quite like spending nights out with my friend, too. But, I just don't enjoy this particular kind of club - covered in sticky floors, rancid bathrooms, and packed with people of looser morals, even just for a night.

We stand in front of a poseur table, our second drinks propped atop, and I try not to get too irritated at those who hurriedly brush up behind me, causing my side to hit the cold metal.

"Don't look so sour, y/n!" he nearly shouts at me to be heard above the noise, "It's fun! You like this music, right?"

My ear catches a remix of Blue Monday and I yell back, "Yeah, I do!" I sway my body a little, in time with the music, and down the rest of my gin and tonic.

I'll need a whole lot more of that to last through tonight.

He scans the crowd, potentially looking for a catch, and I lean over, "Not a lot of choices tonight, huh."

"Nah," he sips his drink with a shrug, "for now at least."

If either one of us is going to have that kind of fun tonight, it won't be me. My friend is more of the carefree, happy-go-lucky, dating app regular, whereas I tend to be wary of attraction that tends to be rushed or fleeting.

Being the good friend that I am, I want him to truly enjoy tonight if he so wishes. After that last fling of his that ended quite messily, I'd like to help him choose a guy that won't recklessly string him along this time. That was also another reason why he wanted to go out so badly – finding a good distraction.

I know his type - tall, blonde and impeccably dressed. But nobody here seems up to the standard.

Another, more bass-heavy track starts to play. "I'll go get another drink! Do you want one?" I tell him, and he’s obviously liking this song a lot more, his head bouncing up and down to the beat.

He shakes his head, and gestures to his still halfway empty glass. I start to move away, but then he suddenly grabs my arm and pulls me back.

“Woah there,” I try to get my bearings. Was I about to collide with someone? Then again, that’s pretty much inevitable given our current environment, “what is it?”

“Look,” he whispers in my ear, excitement lacing his voice, “There, at the bar.”

“There’s about a hundred people at the bar.” I respond dryly.

“You’ll know when you see him,” he seems electrified, nearly giddy, and I look harder for his mystery man.

Of course. There he stands.

Tall, blonde, and impeccably dressed. Eyes obscured by dark eyeglasses in an already dark club, but that only added to his allure. The perfect package, and I know that my friend’s search for a rebound has determinedly ended. He’s got a small flock of admirers around him, and it’s not hard to see that he’s full of confidence. A kind of magnetism. Standing tall and smiling freely, he seems like the type of person who would be the focus of every room, as he seems to be now.

“You headed to the bar, right?” he asks, smirking coyly, and I already know what he wants me to do.

“I’m on it.” I salute him jokingly, which he does in return, “One hot blonde’s number coming right up.”

I have to push through several warm bodies to get to my destination, and I’m so relieved when I reach it that I slam my hand loudly on the counter.

The blonde Casanova and his little group are to my right, and I steal a glance at him. I probably look too long, because he seems to realize and slowly turns his head, dark eyeglasses boring directly into me.

I tear my eyes away hurriedly. Normally, I wouldn't get nervous if I have no stake in the situation, like right now, because this is all for my friend.

But there's an air about him that feels so intimidating. In an attempt to calm my nerves, I raise my voice, and ask, "Another gin and tonic, please!"

The bartender barely glances my way, occupied with a gaggle of younger girls in the corner.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I see him inch closer until he's leaning on the space right next to me.

He slants himself in a way that I can feel his breath in my ear, but not too close, and whispers, “You look like you might need me.” I wonder how I can hear his words all too clearly, with the bass thumping in the background. His words settle, and all I can think is, the audacity.

“Need you?” I ask incredulously, my words having a distinct edge now. I put on a sarcastic smile, and add, “well, you must think of yourself a great deal.”

“I do, actually.” Of course he does. He smiles sweetly, “That’s why I’m letting myself have all this,” he gestures around, “all this freedom, all this fun.”

“I think you might be too old to consider simply going to the club, freedom. Besides, I have to ask again, why would I need you?”

“This is not all that I meant,” he hovers close to me, and I have to remind myself to avoid becoming intoxicated with his presence, with the attention he gives me. He's a disarming kind of attractive, but men like him are the dangerous kind - they know how exactly to reel you in. “You need me because… you need something more than all this. You look sullen, yet you're surrounded by all these people. I'd say that all this is not your thing, darling."

“You’re here, and you look like you belong, I have to say. So that means you’re not my thing as well, doesn’t it?” I counter, internally patting myself on the back. Does flirting come as easy to him as breathing? That’s what it looks like.

He beams widely, as if pleased with my retort, “Well, why are you here if you’re not having any fun?”

Oh, right. “My friend, actually, who also might be the reason why I headed over here… is interested in you, to say the least.”

“Really? Which one?”

“Well, he… “ I start to say, gauging his reaction.

He senses my hesitance, and assuredly drawls, “Oh, I like all kinds.”

“…is standing over there. The lone guy by the poseur table in the corner.” I wave at my friend, who immediately waves back, a smile growing on his face.

They make eye contact, and blondie here sizes him up. "Handsome."

"Yeah, he's a catch. And you better be nice, or else..."

"Or else what?" He responds right away, amusement lacing his voice.

"He's my good friend, so I'm rightfully protective. If you mess up, I'll come for you."

He holds my gaze, mischievous expression growing. He must be thinking, Really? I know I don't look like much of a threat, but I don't look away. I realize I haven't asked his name. He looks like a Dean? Boyd? Steve?

Our staredown continues, until an arm shoots in between us to land on the counter, connected to a very drunk frat boy looking type. "Can y'all get a room or som'ing? ... need to get a drink."

Blondie maneuvers me a few feet away, smirking, "Truthfully, I don't think he needs another drink."

A giggle bubbles out of my throat. I can't help it, and another one follows. This whole thing seems ridiculous, but the expression on his face makes me giggle even harder, as if he's trying to determine whether I've lost my mind. I still feel his hands on my shoulders, steadying me, and I have to ask, "What's your name?"

"What's yours?"

"Oh, c'mon." The effects of the gin are setting in. Maybe I should complete my task before I say anything too forward. "Anyway, I won't pry. Would you please be a doll and give my friend your number?"

"What about you?" he asks.

"What about me?"

"You're not interested?" His curiosity seems genuine, but I'm not biting.

"This isn't about me, so stop trying." A pair of girls linger close to us, in an attempt to get his attention, but his focus is on me.

"Humor me," he takes my hand, and before I can protest, we walk over to a relatively quieter area near the coat check. He smiles again, "So?"

I cave in, "If you were a romantic prospect, and I'm not saying that you are," I add hurriedly, when he raised his eyebrows, "we wouldn't be meeting at a nightclub, of all places. It's just not the perfect image I have in my head, as weird as that may sound."

"So you're a romantic," he drawls, and I still can't place his accent, but there's a pleasant Southern lilt to it. Which is growing on me, as much as I'd hate to admit.

I shrug, not wanting to divulge anything more about myself.

"If I was your type of person, and if this were the perfect setup, where would we be? A museum? A park? By the ocean maybe?" I sense amusement in his voice.

"Are you mocking me?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, darling. I just really am interested."

I study him, and as hard as he may be to read, I can see that he's being sincere. Or maybe he's just that charming.

"Look, I know it's about the person that you meet, not so much the place, but... I don't know. I love quaint bookstores, libraries. Hidden, quiet places, or maybe even crowded ones that all the more emphasize how the other person simply stands out for you. A light among all else. An unexpected brush with another. When you're not really looking to find someone, but you do, and it catches you off guard. But in a good way." The words rush out of me, and I have to stop myself. What happened to not divulging anything more? I would blame the gin, but heaven forbid, what if I am attracted to him?

"Hmm," is all he responds with. He takes a deep breath, and I feel the urge to find his eyes behind his dark glasses. What color might they be?

"Take your glasses off," I say, bravery kicking in. Or stupidity. Either one.

"Why?" he leans even closer, tilting his head.

"I want to," I pause, my throat constricting, "see your eyes."

He says nothing. Does nothing. We stand face to face in this dark corner, and I suddenly remember my friend waiting for me. Not wanting to waste any more time, I reach up tentatively, my hand inching towards his round, black-out glasses.

Just when my fingers graze the rim, his hand shoots up, effectively halting my attempt.

A long pause follows, with my hand enveloped in his, until he says, "You're dangerous, darling," I feel his words reverberate within me, warming the pit of my stomach.

I tentatively smile back, challenging him, finally settling into our shared rhythm.

But in a split second, he breaks the spell, dropping my hand, "Weren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Oh," my stomach sinks, and I don't like how disappointed I feel, since I'm not here for me after all, "Right."

I take one final look at him, before the haze subsides. Before he sets his eyes on someone else, and I lose him entirely. He was not at all what I expected, but that doesn't matter now.

"Follow me," I gesture with one hand, and I feel him close behind me, as we find our way through the bustling crowd. He places one hand on my waist, while the other shields me from any flailing, dancing limbs. Someone drunkenly sways a bit too close, and I feel myself being pulled back against his chest.

"Easy," I hear his voice low in my ear, making the hairs on the back of my neck tingle.

I regain composure, "I'm okay," and I walk on with more determination. He is not for me, I think to myself, this is not what I think it is. It's just another drunken midnight, and he's just another brazen flirt at a nightclub.

Then again, I don't really want to believe that. But anyway.

When we reach my friend, he gives a relieved grin, "There you are! I thought you two ran off with each other already."

I immediately feel guilty. I must be breaking some cardinal friendship rule by even thinking of stepping in with this charming stranger.

They fall into conversation right away, and the stranger might have given his name in introduction, but I've already forced myself to turn my attention to something else. Luckily, given where we are, the music blares, deafening and persistent. My friend winks at me, and I take it as a sign that they're really hitting it off. I give him a subtle thumbs up, and face the other way, as if to give them privacy. But also to fend off the jealousy creeping in my chest.

Perhaps it's best if I just head home.

"Hey," I intervene half-heartedly, "I'm really tired, so I'll just head back."

"Aww, really?" my friend says, then turns to blondie adding, "Poor thing. She's not that into places like these."

"Yeah, I'm really not," I smile, "I'm just about ready to change into pajamas and jump into bed."

The handsome stranger smiles crookedly, "I'll accompany you out, and make sure you get a ride safely."

"Oh, that's-," I start to protest, but my friend says, "Good idea! That's nice of you to offer. Make sure my girl here doesn't get bothered outside."

My friend then drags a hand flirtatiously down blondie's arm, "I'll be waiting here for you."

"Alright," blondie makes a gesture for me, to which I say, "One second."

He steps away from us, leaning casually by a wall. He looks too perfect to be here, too refined. As if he shines too brightly among all the others, standing out like a sore thumb.

"So, what do we think of him?" I question.

"Quite the charmer," my friend says, "Very polite, very well-mannered, too."

"Yeah, he is," I echoed, "but there's an edge to him. I can't pinpoint it exactly."

"You two disappeared for a while there. Is there something-"

"No," I blurt out, perhaps too hurriedly, "I mean, he seems nice and everything, but I'm not looking for that right now."

"Are you sure? Because it's completely fine if you like him. I won't get in the way of this connection." he says assuringly, and I slightly feel bad again for all that I've been thinking. He's always been considerate, and this was supposed to be his night. Blondie's supposed to be his guy.

"I am," I smile weakly, and I can tell he's not convinced, "Look, just message me later whenever you can, okay? Let me know how it goes. He may be charming as all hell, but most serial killers often are." I wag my eyebrows at him, half in jest, and he laughs.

"Okay," he draws me in for a hug, "Get home safe."

I walk over to blondie, and we make our way out of the nightclub. I feel the cool, brisk air and immediately feel relieved. With my hands on my waist, I turn my face to the night sky with eyes closed, and just focus on breathing.

Then, I remember just who is standing next to me. When I open my eyes, he is staring at me, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips.

"I just really needed the fresh air."

"Hmm," is all he says again. Maybe he's irked at having to wait with me, and just wants to get back to my friend.

"You know," he starts to say, but nothing could have prepared me for what comes after, "You're quite beautiful."

"What?" I manage to spit out. I've dealt with men like this before, those who tend to dole out compliments so easily, that it becomes hard to find truth in them. But I can't fight the blush that I feel spreading across my face.

"You are somethin' else." he drawls in his own way.

Is he just messing with me? Maybe he's naturally this forward, with a voice like honey, dripping saccharine, "You've only known me for around half an hour. I doubt you're making a worthy assumption."

"I know, but I mean them."

I turn away, looking out onto the street. If he does mean what he said, then I need to get out of here before I do or say something I'll probably regret, and he needs to get back to my friend. He's not for me.

"Best get you home then, darling." he raises an arm, and hails a cab that lingers on the street corner.

I have to know, so I ask, "Tell me your name? I've been calling you blondie in my head all this time, and it doesn't do you justice."

"You'll know soon enough," the cab appears before us, and he holds the door open for me. Damn gentleman. "Sweet dreams, y/n."

I am halfway in the cab, when I realize that I never actually told him my name. I turn around to confront him, but he's gone.

So he knows my name but I don't know his? I decide to let it go when the cab driver calls out, "Where are we headed?"

I give him my address, and shut the cab door. Feeling a strange mix of disappointment and guilt and longing, I am determined to completely push blondie out of my head.

This is just another midnight, and he's just another guy.

How I wish I believed that.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The knife hovers above the slumbering form, moonlight glinting off its smooth surface. This young man, while very appealing in his own right, did nothing to keep Corinthian's thoughts from straying back to you.

After you had left, they had engaged in every degree of flirtation one can think of, before the young man whispered the predictable invitation in his ear. He obliged. Wasn't his plan simply falling into place?

Nightclubs were not among Corinthian's favored haunts, but now and again, he deigns to visit them. To see people engaged in various delights, influenced by substances and coercions. Raw and wild, and yet most were hiding behind masks, behind pretenses. An added benefit, they provided him with an easy selection for his... hobby.

He found that people tend to already be naturally drawn to him, so places like this only provided an additional thrill.

He had actually found you before you found him. He saw your fatigued expression in the crowd, in contrast to your friend who seemed to be thriving in that atmosphere. And when the both of you eventually drew your attention to him, he felt a sort of smugness.

Of course, as always.

You walked over, and he approached you, but you acted like you'd rather be anywhere else. Corinthian was used to people either wanting to be him or be with him. They may be intimidated, or provocative, or simply curious. He was aware of the effect that he had, and it didn't seem to be evident with you.

You were prepared to rebuke his advances, and you were setting him up for your friend instead. Your friend, who is now sleeping here half-nude, while Corinthian deliberates his next move.

They hadn't gone all the way, although that was the intention. Corinthian and your friend were lost in a flurry of kisses upon entering your friend's apartment. Most of their clothes quickly discarded, until Corinthian motioned for them to pause, as if to catch his breath.

"Got a drink?" he asked, sitting down on the bed.

"Sure thing, handsome," your friend smiled, making his way to the kitchen.

Corinthian sat there, deep in thought, as he is now. He had a vision of how this night would turn out to be. Venture to that nightclub, find his prey, indulge in the usual humanly pleasures, and then indulge in pleasure of another kind.

When your friend returned with his drink, Corinthian thanked him and sipped it slowly. Your friend started to pepper his back with soft kisses, muttering affectionate phrases, and the occasional racy remark. They kissed again, bodies colliding on the bed. Until a while later, when your friend stopped to say, "You're not into this, are you?"

Corinthian replied nonchalantly, "Just got something on my mind."

"Does that something happen to be y/n?" Your friend was the one who slipped Corinthian your name earlier, and he didn't even have to ask.

Corinthian huffed, not confirming your friend's thought, but not denying it either.

"You know, it's okay. You were a good distraction for a while, pretty boy. That's all I needed. We can just go to sleep, if you'd like to stay?"

"Alright," Corinthian agreed, "This was a real pleasure, doll."

"Sure," your friend smiled, "and by the way, don't waste any time. She's amazing. If you want y/n, tell her. I can give you her number? But tomorrow, I'm kinda exhausted now."

Corinthian doesn't respond, but your friend took that as an agreement. They spoke for a short while, until your friend rolled over to his side of the bed, mumbled good night, and quickly fell asleep thanks to several daiquiris and a long, tiring night.

Corinthian sits on the bed, feeling something he hasn't felt in a long time. He feels lost. It's as if he's not where he's supposed to be, not doing what he's supposed to. Ever since Dream got captured, he was free to roam the Waking World as he pleased. He knew just what he wanted, and he took it. People became his thing. Their emotions, their habits, their fears.

He relished all of it. Their pleasures and pains gave him a rush. Every eye devoured unleashed a cascade of memories within him. A collection of moments, and sentiments. Not his, of course, but it feels that way nonetheless. It feels human.

And Corinthian knew, this was the closest that he would get. To being human. To having a soul. He knew exactly just what he was and what he was made to do, and he didn't fight it.

A nightmare he shall be. Nightmares he shall unleash.

He stands, prepared to take this young man's eyes. Although asleep, there will be resistance upon the initial strike, but no matter. His end will swiftly follow.

But why wasn't he sure? This is what he does, this is who he is.

His mind travels back to you, "If you mess up, I'll come for you." Adorable.

He could easily disappear after tonight, no one would ever find him. Only you would suspect him, but that wouldn't matter. This would just be another nightmare under his roster.

But you would be in pain. You would carry the guilt, having been the one to introduce your friend to a serial killer. Standing there, Corinthian couldn't, for the life of him, understand why he cared.

You're nobody.

But he still hears your giggle from his memory, sees you smiling up at him.

It eats at him, and makes him feel something else entirely. Something unfamiliar.

He puts his knife back in its sheath.

Maybe this was just a passing fancy, and he plans to just let it run its course. He'll forget about you soon enough. But this could be fun, and if you're here for the taking, then take he shall.

As Corinthian leaves the apartment, a twisted sense of regret passes through him. If he had devoured your friend's eyes, he would have seen you in an infinite array of moments, in the perspective of someone close to you. He would have seen your laugh again and again, heard your sweet voice whispering things in confidence, felt you walking right beside him. So close.

He turns resolute - why not have all that in actuality. Maybe it's time to slip back into the Dreaming, just for tonight.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

My fingers graze the titles on the shelf. I want to read nearly all of them. It's strange how they consist of books that I have yet to read, but have written down on my list.

I am surrounded by wooden bookshelves, designed as if they were molded out of the woods themselves, smooth brown roots running up the sides, golden and green leaves sticking out in a faint pattern. I remember wanting to decorate the bookshelves in my bedroom in the same way. But where am I now?

It seems to be a quaint bookshop, beautiful, with a tall stained glass window in an alcove on one side of the room. I seem to be the only one here, free to read to my heart's delight.

I pull out one of the volumes from the shelf, but I must have miscalculated its weight, because it started to fall out of my hands.

I wait to hear the thud, but instead I hear a voice.

"Oh," he says, "careful there."

He stands next to me with the book in one hand, outstretched in offering. Where did he come from?

"Thanks," I reply shyly, not knowing what to say next.

"You have good taste," he points to the book, "I've read this one myself, and let me tell you, the plot is certainly gripping. The characters were well-written, especially the villain, but you might not like him, of course."

"I quite like villains," I explain, "I've always been drawn to them in books, films, anywhere really. Just any darkly delightful, complex villain, with their own share of inner conflict and turmoil. Fascinating."

"Really?" A slow smile spreads across his face.

"Yeah," I smile in return, "Mind you, most villains wouldn't even consider themselves as such. They're just doing what they think is right."

"But what if," he implores, "the villain is just purely wretched? Downright evil, with nothing to redeem them?"

I think carefully before responding, "Maybe there are some who are like that. But," I pause, and he seems keen to hear my next words, "I like to think there's hope for everyone. Even those with the darkest of hearts."

A comfortable silence follows, and I let my eyes wander on the titles, until he says in a familiar drawl, "You really are somethin' else, darling."

Where did I hear that before?

"I'm y/n," I finally say, holding out my hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, y/n," he takes your hand and places a kiss on your knuckles, "I'm Corinthian."

When I feel him, a memory rushes through my mind. Loud music, cramped bodies, neon lights dancing on his skin. The same dark glasses shielding his eyes.

"You," I mumble, "I know you."

"Do you now?" he laughs, amused by my confusion, turning away to skim another bookshelf.

"Yes," I follow him, "You don't remember?"

"Well, I don't know, but I'll just take your word for it," he turns a book in his hands, "Besides, where do you think we are?"

I look around, and everything appears so polished. Almost too perfect. I realize that it resembles a library, more than a bookshop, with everything arranged and decorated to my liking, as if all of this was a product of my subconscious. One side of the room was completely open, facing a garden, lush and inviting. A warm sheen can be seen all around, as if everything is covered in a layer of fairy dust. I don't hear the usual siren song of the big city, which is replaced by the calming sounds of nature.

The stuff of dreams.

"I'm dreaming?" I breathe out, unsure.

"Do you like it?" I hear him, feeling his warm body behind me.

I hum in confirmation. A shiver rushes through me when I feel his lips on the nape on my neck. I feel him inhale deeply, as if savouring my scent.

"Beautiful," he says in that voice.

I turn around slowly. He looks beautiful, ethereal almost, in this light. This is my dream, so what do I want to happen next?

Kiss me, Corinthian, I think.

He caresses my face and asks, "Can I kiss you, darling?" as if he was privy to my thoughts.

"Yes," I manage to say. I vaguely remember wanting to kiss him in real life, as I do now.

Our lips touch, softly at first, dancing sensually with one another. Then he wraps an arm firmly around me, body flush against mine, and I can feel all of him.

My back arches in pleasure, and I feel him groan into my mouth. Suddenly, he bites down on my lip hard.

I pull away, and I run my tongue over my lip, a faint tanginess lingering in my mouth. I kiss him again, and he sucks my bottom lip, caressing the love bite.

He lifts me up and wraps my legs around his waist, then pushes me back onto a bookshelf. My face hovers inches higher above his, and he looks up at me, dazed and eager.

"Corinthian," I whisper his name for the first time, and it feels like a prayer on my lips. How could I have come up with this name in my dream? It's unusual, and yet fits him perfectly.

We gaze at each other for a while, lost in the moment. He curses softly, "Fuck."

"What?"

"I want you," he purrs.

I want him too. I want all of this to be real. "Then take me."

He drags his lips across my collarbone, my chest. Keeping me propped up against the shelf, he takes my shirt off. He takes a nipple in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue, and I feel a wetness start to pool below. He positions a finger in my entrance, and he looks up at me for permission.

I bite my lip, running my fingers over his chiseled face, and nod urgently.

He pushes my underwear to one side, and thrusts a finger in. I feel his middle finger move in and out, while his thumb strokes my clit rapidly. He slides another finger in, picking up the pace.

A series of moans escape my lips, and he's leaning back, as if admiring the view. Suddenly, I don't feel his fingers anymore, and I open my eyes.

He's smirking at me, and he almost looks dangerous. Carnal.

"I want to make you scream."

He gingerly lowers me back on my feet, slides my underwear down my ankles, and I lift each one to take it off.

Then he lifts me up even higher, until my thighs settle on his shoulders, straddling him. He breathes out, and I feel it directly in front of my throbbing opening. He blows into it, teasing me, then without warning, slides his tongue inside.

My arms fly to the side, feeling the hardness of this exquisite bookshelf, in an attempt to keep myself steady. But I can't help but tremble, and writhe in ecstasy, as his lips move frenzied against me.

Moments later, his prediction rings true, and I scream.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

My eyes fly open. I feel warm all over, a sheen of sweat nearly everywhere. What the-

One name rests on my lips, resounding clear, "Corinthian."

And another word bubbles out, when my dream comes rushing back.

"Fuck."

end of midnight one.

(ahhhh) help, I just love writing about Corinthian, that little shit.

This was late yet again, but I had to change up several parts. Apologies if there are any errors, I'll be checking this through later.

And I did mean to write all three midnights in one chapter, but it got too long, so keep a lookout for midnight two and midnight three - they'll be out eventually 😉

Let me know what you think about Corinthian and the Reader here!

P.S. midnights? Is it obvious that I love Taylor Swift?

#corinthian x reader #the corinthian #the corinthian x reader #the corinthian imagine #corinthian imagine #the sandman #corinthian x y/n #the corinthian x y/n #boyd holbrook imagine #boyd holbrook #boyd holbrook x reader #eote x cor #corinthian #sandman netflix #netflix the sandman

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thatblackravenclaw · 2 years

Text

Oh baby

Masterlist

wolfstar x fem!reader

word count: 943

warning(s): pregnancy, fluff, peter is actually a good guy but barely mentioned.

“Do you ever wonder who he’ll look like?” I ask Sirius.

“Oh, Me. No doubt.” He responds while caressing my stomach.

“Yeah, right.” Remus says from the kitchen.

He walks out and sits on the other side of me.

“He’s obviously going to look like me.” Remus continues.

I roll my eyes at the statement. They’re going to be very upset men when the baby comes out looking like me. He’ll probably have Sirius attitude though.

Something that I will always wonder is who’s sperm got me pregnant. Weird thought, I know, but I can’t help it. Like, who’s sperm was fastest? I bet I could make them argue about it.

“Hey, guys?”

“What’s up babe?” Remus asks.

“Who’s sperm do you think got me pregnant?”

There’s a pregnant (no pun intended) pause.

“Well, it was obviously mine.”

“OBVIOUSLY??!!” Sirius blurts out.

“Yeah? We both know that my swimmers are better than yours.”

And then the argument ensues for the next five minutes. I admit it was very funny at first, but now I’m hungry.

“Who would love to be my favorite husband and get me food?”

“I thought you had no favorites?” Remus states with a smile pulling in the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t, but whoever gets Orion food will be my first official favorite.”

Only a second passes before both of them apparate. About ten seconds later Sirius is back in the room.

“What is it you said you wanted, my love?” He says with an over the top grin.

“I didn’t, but since you actually came back.. I want bangers and mash with exactly 3 bangers from that one in the hole place in London, Butterbeer from The Three Broomsticks, and Ginger Newts from Madam Puddifoot’s.”

He winks at me before apparating again.

I feel a kick as I sing Orion’s favorite song. I can’t help but smile as I continue singing while laying my hand on my stomach to feel him. A few seconds later I feel another kick, but on the other side of my stomach. That can’t be right. Maybe I’m just buggin.

Another kick stops my train of thought. That’s it. I grab the house phone while also grabbing my coat. As soon as my coat is halfway on, I dial Lily’s number.

“Uhm, hi?” Lily says as she picks up the phone.

“Hey babe! What you up to?

“Oh, just was in the bed with James..”

“Baby making?” I ask with a smirk.

“Maybe.” She responds, stretching out the last syllable.

“Aw I’m sorry. Would you hate me so if I asked you guys to wait one more day?”

“A little. Depends on why.”

“I’m kinda, sorta, maybe about to give birth and my husbands aren’t here.

In no time her and James are outside with their car. I sit in the back seat and apologize profusely. I’m surprised we don’t get in a wreck with how fast Lily was driving.

James helps me out of the car once we’re outside of the hospital.

“So.. any chance you guys will name the baby after me if you have a girl?” I poke at James.

“You’re already the godmother.” He says as we walk inside.

“And?”

We walk up to the counter before he can answer. Can’t believe he’s trying to get out of naming their daughter after me.

“Hello! Y/n Lupin-Black. I talked to Doctor Pettigrew on the phone.”

“Right! Just sit in the wheelchair and someone will assist you in a sec.”

It takes but a few moments before I’m being wheeled off to the room.

I sit for about five minutes before I see a head poke through the door.

“How’s my favorite patient?” She asks as she sits on the stool next to the bed.

“This baby isn’t due for another week, Laura.” I respond, clearly irritated.

“So fantastic? Great! We’re just gonna do a quick ultrasound.”

She puts the gel on my stomach and picks up the transducer.

I sigh before speaking.

“How’s Peter?”

“He’s fine. In the break room right now in case you do end up popping tonight.”

“Ha ha.” I express dryly.

As she moves the transducer around my stomach I see her face scrunch up in confusion.

“What? What’s wrong?” I ask. I feel my heart drop to my stomach. It can’t be anything too bad, right? If there was something wrong with the baby.

“Well, pretty lady. It seems like you’re either having twins or an alien with four feet.”

I don’t get enough time to react before I hear rapid footsteps come into the room. Sirius is holding a brown bag while holding Remus’ hand. They look at me and I can’t help the biggest smile from spreading across my face.

“We’re having twins.” I say to them.

“YOU’RE HAVING TWINS??” I hear from the hall.

In comes James and Lily.

“One of them better have my middle name.” James says.

“Just because you have to endure the middle name Fleamont doesn’t mean one of our sons should have to.” Remus says with a laugh.

“I resent that.” James pouts.

“Besides. As much as I appreciate you guys driving me here, I already have their names picked out.”

After 31 hours of labor, I finally get to meet my perfect boys, Orion Reggie Lupin-Black and John Apollo Lupin-Black.

“I must ask.. Why Apollo?” James says as he hold John.

“First moon landing, moon, Remus.”

They all pause and just look at me.

“I’m naming the next one.” He says.

“The next one?? You must be having it. Now, give me my baby since you decided to be mean.”

#wolfstar oneshot #wolfstar fic #wolfstar x you #wolfstar x y/n #wolfstar prompt #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x fem!reader #harry potter fluff

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disappearinginq · 2 months

Note

5, 7, 13, and 20 for fanfic asks?

5. Fic most proud of writing This is a toss up - because I am one of those people who likes their own stuff a lot. :-D But, one of the Big Three: Damnatio Memoriae from the Lucifer fandom, Running Up That Hill for Agenst of SHIELD, and Wrong Side of Heaven for Magnum 2018. Mostly for different reasons, but they all have the same vein of "I got mad at canon and I fixed it".

Lucifer was a roller coaster for me - I loved season 1, season 2 was okay, 3 made me want to throw something at the screen 90% of the time, season 4 WAS EPIC, and I gave up halfway through season 5 and never finished the series. Damnatio was written because I wanted much more involvement of the supernatural, not just a therapy/self discovery mixed in with crime of the week. Also, being raised adjacent to Catholicism, I was getting really irritated that they weren't even using the comic lore, and missing the basic fundamentals of the sources they were pulling from. This story had a lot of reader feedback, to the point of it being almost choose your own adventure. As it went on, I would ask readers to pick from two options that I had rolling around in my head, and it actually worked really well to keep the ball moving with my writing.

Running Up That Hill was again another one where I just got mad at canon, but because I don't like the narrative of "these people are exempt from moral standards while this person is Wrong No Matter What", and I probably would've let it slide except the issue I had was that the one that Wrong No Matter What had all of his life changing trauma as a child and then had it reinforced his entire adult life. Everyone else was an adult when Bad Things happened, and I don't like the hypocrisy of saying "get over it" to someone who legitimately doesn't have the toolset to do that.

Wrong Side I love because this actually was my first foray into something that had no supernatural elements to it whatsoever, and based firmly in reality, and a reality I knew pretty well. I wasn't a huge fan of how the TV show just glossed over the fact that these guys were POW's for a year and a half of a terrorist organization that tortures and kills people with such violence that they became a whole new subsect of terrorism. Like, no, these guys aren't just going to walk away without an issue. And the fact that they were sold out by someone who said to have loved them? AND THEY HAVE NO FALL OUT FROM THIS?! Get fucked, shitty narrative. Suicide in the veteran community is at a high not seen since post-WWII, and these fuckers have the audacity to suggest that you're just being a little bitch if you can't acclimate to civilian life.

7. Favorite ship to write Well, that's pretty easy - none. Romance is rarely done well, and I have never liked anyone enough to relate to the narrative of "Well, I'm throwing all of my friendships out the window because now I have a RomAnTic InTereSt" and it irritates me to no end. if anything, my favorite ship is between Captain Kirk and the Enterprise.

13. Latest fic written/last WIP? A fix it fic for Yellowstone that showcases the brothers Kayce and Jamie, and because I am on a western kick, research for a Magnificent Seven fic that will likely never see the light of day, but I still love the show and the characters, where Ezra (the gambler from Georgia) is a spy for the Union during the Civil War.

20. Hardest Character to write/get the characterization right for? The female characters written by men. And I realize that sounds really weird, but because I swear to god men don't understand being a woman, they're just shit at writing them, and they say/do the dumbest things because guys would do that shit, or, worse, the guys writing the character are using them as hyperboles for women they think did them wrong. And then because the writers don't understand them, I can't understand them, and they wind up being the people that in real life, I'd want to hit with my car. Beth Dutton is a great example of this - some of the things she says that I know are supposed to come off as "strong, powerful woman" make me physically recoil and hide my face with a pillow while watching because What the fuck nobody would ever say that and it's actually cringeworthy. Until women started getting involved in the writing process for Magnum and Lenkov was fired, I absolutely wanted to stab Higgins in 90% of her scenes. Post Lenkov - I actually found her really sweet sometimes, and actually relatable.

That being said, the other ones that I'm not good at because it is so far outside my sphere of comprehension are characters like Angie or Dani off of Will Trent and Prodigal Son. I love those characters, they are complex and unique and I love them, but I don't have relatable experience to them at all, and they are some of the hardest people I have tried to write (which is why I don't have fic in those fandoms even though I love them).

#asks answered #games we play #whew #had to think about a couple of these for a hot minute

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lumpofwhump · 1 year

Text

The Scavenger and the Forgotten 6: The Children of Io

Content warning: Minor character death, cult dynamics, bad caretaker

Continued from here.

"Look, ammo is what I've got," Clee insisted with a frustrated gesture. "Do you want it, or would you prefer to keep your stupid safe straw?"

The lean, sharp-eyed Girn on the other side of this negotiation scoffed. "Bullets for a KAM-5? The only guys using those right now would shoot me dead on sight. Meanwhile, it looks like Grampy here could use some stupid clean water from my stupid safe straw." She pointed to Radu, and smirked as the old genmod shrunk still further in on himself upon being noticed. "It's ten in coin or nothing."

"Coin?! Who the fuck carries coin anymore?"

"The two of you, from the looks of it," the other Girn said, sounding as calm as Clee did irritable. "Your friend's got some nice clothes. New ones, even. Can't buy those with bullets."

Clee groaned, tired of arguing with this smug bitch already. Up until a few minutes ago, this had been her first day in a week with no headaches. "Six," she conceded, all but tossing two pieces of metal currency at the woman.

She caught it easily, and inspected it closely before nodding with satisfaction. "Looks like the half-a-kriv can be halfway honest. Makes enough sense."

"Go to hell," Clee shot back.

The other woman smirked. "Which one?"

She was about to suggest Chemoghlu - the lady didn't seem like she'd hold up all that well being stuck swimming upstream through a river of scalding-hot shit in the midst of a stampede of angry deimels for all eternity - when Radu urgently tapped her on the shoulder.

"Yeah, fine, let's get going," she grumbled, managing not to snap at him even as her shoulders tensed. She snatched the water filtration straw from the other Girn's hand and turned around, her eyes settling on a group of five approached humans. Or humanoids, at least.

Clee felt a pit in her stomach seeing their hodgepodge armor, made up of lab protective gear patched together to fit people much bigger than its original owners. Of all the genmod factions she'd considered bringing Radu to, the fanatics calling themselves the Children of Io had been dead last on her list.

The guy in front, though… he wasn't from the labs, at not least as a subject. He barely looked genmod at all. He did look like he needed a good punch to the face, though.

Apparently the other woman agreed. "Shit, this guy again," she muttered, clamping her hand tightly over the coins she was holding.

He gave the group of them an unpleasant smirk as his four much more formidable friends raised weapons as varied as their armor at the group. "I thought we had this talk already… Izhekna, was it?" he said, eyes on the Girn vendor. "Just because you turned informant doesn't mean you can go back to selling us in our own territory." He gestured toward Radu.

"I-I wasn't -- the Hiukree here and her lab… her f-friend, they were robbing me!" Izhekna pleaded in thickly-accented Ganymedean, her eyes darting between Clee and the apparent leader of this squad.

"Nice try," the man said casually, ignoring Clee as she sputtered to defend herself against the accusation, right before one of the soldiers fired a shot directly into Izhekna's head. The older woman collapsed to the ground with hardly a sound, while Radu yelped and jumped back, his clothes now coated in blood.

Clee was equally blood spattered, but too stunned to react as two of the soldiers approached until their hands closed around her arms. She pulled and thrashed at her captors, jabbing one of them hard enough with the water filtration straw that they audibly hissed in pain. The same soldier pried the device out from between her fingers, not particularly gently, and threw it to the ground.

"Oh, are you fucking kidding me?!" Clee raged as this entire errand became worse than pointless.

As the straw hit the ground, though, Radu snapped to attention. "Clee!" he shouted. "Let go of Clee, she --"

"You don't have to worry about her anymore," one of the armored figures told him gently. "We won't let her hurt you."

"No, she helps me! I-I need her," Radu insisted.

"You know her?" The apparent leader groaned and squeezed the bridge of his nose. The arrogant bastard was unarmored, Clee now realized. "Well. this just turned into a giant mess," he said, sounding very put-upon by this situation. "Look, we're gonna take you both back to base and get things sorted out there, got it?"

"Doesn't look like we've got much of a choice," Clee pointed out. "Any way you can let me walk on my own here?"

He studied her for a minute without reply. There was a flash of something, maybe recognition, in his eyes, and he shook his head quickly. "Nah," he said, and started off back in the direction they'd come from.

The second pair of soldiers didn't put hands on Radu, but stood between him and Clee despite his attempts to push past them as they walked. The still-recovering older genmod was at a clear disadvantage against their much stronger, uninjured captors. At a certain point, he struggled to even minimally keep up with the group, and reluctantly accepted an offered hand from one of the two soldiers in front of him.

Twenty minutes later, they stopped just outside a single-story concrete building, miraculously all but completely intact. The plaque outside the gate was faded and rusted, and Clee could just barely make out some of the letters: R D OPM NT C NTE 8.

Before she could try to decipher it with her only tenuous grasp of written Ganymedean, though, she heard voices from above. A handful of sentries called out greetings, and the armed soldiers behind her waved.

"And look, he made it back," one of the watchers said in an amused voice, pointing to the unarmored man leading them. "'Ey Mira, you're taking over cleaning duty tonight, it looks like."

"Whatever," Clee could hear as they reached the gate. "You know I'm just gonna make him do it anyways."

One of the two soldiers pulling Clee along laughed along with the sentries. Meanwhile, their leader clenched his hands into fists with a low growl, his knuckles going nearly white.

No, not a leader, Clee realized. A human shield.

"So what's the Girn for?" Mira called down to her comrades, wrinkling her nose a bit.

The person to her left thumbed back at Radu. "Our new friend here wouldn't come without her."

"Huh," Mira said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, bring 'em in." With that, the group of them entered a walled-off sally port, which had traces of the same medical smell that had permeated Satellite Office 83.

"I'll search her," the apparent third captive of their group volunteered with a nod to Clee, a bit too eagerly, as the last of the four soldiers locked the door behind them.

One of her two escorts scoffed. "What, so you can take whatever she's got on her?"

"Can't be anything too valuable," the other said, raising an eyebrow at Clee. "'Sides. It's almost lunch. If we don't have to waste rations on this dipshit, so much the better." He turned to loom over the much smaller man in front of him. "Anything we find on you that hasn't made it into inventory, and the Commander'll be sending whatever bits of you are left to the GSH in a box."

He of the Punchable Face let out an undignified whimper and reflexively raised his hands. "Okay, I get the point!" he snapped with wounded pride, only earning himself a laugh.

The soldiers let go of Clee, finally, and headed for the door in front of them.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up and fed," the soldier that Radu was now outright leaning on for support tried to coax him.

As they passed, though, Radu grasped Clee's hand tightly. "Clee, though," he said, he said almost pleadingly. "I need -- what are you going to do with her?!"

"She'll still be here when we're done," they replied, a bit exasperated. "We'll get this sorted out, and who knows, maybe she can join us."

Clee guessed that the chances of that were pretty low. She forced a crooked smile at Radu, though, and squeezed his hand briefly before pulling away. "Hey, see you soon, alright?"

The soldiers seemed to relax more at this display than Radu did. He nodded glumly, slumping and letting himself be escorted through the door into the base. He looked over his shoulder with a last worried glance back at her before one of the soldiers closed and locked the door behind them.

"What did you to get him so attached?" the remaining human asked after a beat, echoing her own thoughts. "And what kind of a name is Clee, anyways?"

"It's my name," she snapped. "What's yours, anyways? Or should I just call you Dipshit like they do?"

The man scowled. Up close, his gritted teeth only were only slightly better than Radu's, and his narrowed eyes were mismatched, one brown and one green. "'Sir' would be fine," he informed her, taking hold of her roughly as he started to rummage through her pockets.

"Pffft," Clee responded, leading him to tighten his grip, his uneven nails digging into her skin. "Not even your own guys like you that much."

"They're not 'my guys,'" he fumed. "They're just a bunch of…!" He stopped short, looking quickly back toward the door. "Anyways. What've you got on you? Let's see… bullets? Meh," he said, stuffing them into his pockets all the same. "Some coin, that's a bit better, and… hel-lo, what's this?" He slid the pack of lycadone vials out of her coat pocket just as she remembered they were there.

"Hey, give those --!" she demanded, struggling and grabbing for them, only to be cut off a grating laugh of triumph from Sir Dipshit as he read the label.

"Oh MAN," he said, holding them just out of her reach with a gleam in his eyes. "You really made my day, you know that? Do you even know what this is?"

"It was my ticket offworld," Clee snapped. "What's it to you, a pat on the head? You heard them, they're not gonna let you keep it."

He shot her a glare, which she met with a smirk of her own. "You should maybe stick to worrying about your own problems," he shot back. "Like what'll happen when they find out you were gonna ditch the old guy."

"What do you --"

"'My ticket offworld,' wasn't that what you just said?" he said mockingly, with another unpleasant buck-toothed smile. "I'll let them figure that part out for themselves, though. I owe you one." He nodded to the vials in his hand, still frustratingly out of reach.

"Look," Clee said sharply in a low voice. "You don't want to be here any more than I do. We split the stuff, and we both get out of here." She regretted the words as she spoke them at the thought of spending any more time under the insufferable human, but she figured she could steal the already twice-over ill-gotten gains back soon enough. "And Radu… he'll be safer here. They'll know what to do for him."

The expression on her captor's face made her even less certain than she'd already felt. He shook his head and went on with his search, finding no further treasure to his obvious disappointment. "Let's go," he growled and edged her forward, driving a sharp foot driven down into the back of her heel. She let out a squeal of discomfort, and looked back indignantly at the human, who flashed her a nasty smile in response.

He pushed her through the door into the repurposed compound. She nearly gagged at the smell of what could be only described as that of death itself. She heard her escort swallow behind her, apparently no more inured to it than she was. He recovered enough to pull her collection of coins and bullets out of his pocket and hold them out for inspection, as well as inevitable confiscation. "And she would've had more if we hadn't caught her when we did," he said. "She was about to sell the other one off in exchange for passage to Earth."

"Not what we heard from him, Fletcher," a man lounging in a chair behind a long bolted-down metal table said in a bored tone, disregarding Clee's loud objections.

She immediately stopped short in her protests upon hearing his voice, one that she and every other resident of Ganymede had heard countless times over the vids throughout the dome. It took only a quick look to confirm it. He had light brown skin framed by pitch-black hair that seemed at odds with his strikingly pale grey eyes. Even sitting down he was a slight man, but had an aura of power about him that more than made up for it.

"'Oh, but we killed all the body doubles!'" the clone of Governor Jas Knossos said mockingly, echoing Clee's thoughts, before giving a casual shrug. "Is it really so surprising that they missed a few?" He gave her a smile that was not at all reassuring when coupled with his piercing stare. "So, Clee, if I remember right. Maybe you could help me figure out where things stand. Both of my sources at this point are hardly reliable." His gaze shifted over toward the human, taking on a look of contempt.

Clee swallowed. Double or not, speaking to someone with this voice, and worse still this face, was not something she'd ever expected to happen. "I-I was planning to bring Radu here anyways," she lied. The clone's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, suggesting that he saw through this, but she pushed forward into safer territory. "I had another way offworld anyways. Too bad this guy stole it." She thumbed at Fletcher.

"It'd have to be more than a few coins, then," the clone said, raising his eyebrows in interest but then pinning Fletcher with a sharp gaze.

"Try twenty four sealed vials of lycadone," Clee responded. "I can imagine that'd be pretty useful to you all."

Fletcher only laughed. "Search me, then," he said, arms spread out. "Just take me to a private room first if you're going to be thorough with it, will you?"

"That won't be necessary," the clone said. "Search their route here," he ordered the people behind him with only the slightest tilt of his head in their direction. Two of them nodded and passed by Clee and Fletcher, with one giving the latter an abrupt shove to the shoulder. He hissed in pain and tensed as if he'd been hit there before none too far back.

"Okay, I'm curious," Clee said after a long awkward silence that was making Fletcher visibly uncomfortable. "How'd you get this bunch, of all people, to follow the same guy who put them in the labs?"

Her captor chortled. "I'm not exactly 'the same guy' as the Lunan Exile. I grew up in the labs like everyone else here did."

The last person standing behind him, a woman with a distant expression who could have easily been his twin, spoke up. "Commander Alexei led us out of that place, and he leads us on to Io. He'll leave not a single genmod behind."

Clee tried not to grimace at the monotone recitation of the apparent party line. "And what about the rest of us?" she ventured.

"It depends," Alexei responded. "When it comes to you personally, what were you really about to do with your captive?"

"His name's Radu, and he's not my captive," Clee couldn't help but snap despite Alexei's narrowed eyes. "If it hadn't been for me, he'd be back in --"

"We found it," called out one of Alexei's guards as they returned. "Turns out he'd gotten his hands on a whole number of things." The guard spilled out the contents of a small box onto the bolted-down table. Coins, the lycadone, and worse still for Fletcher, a IET-12 plasma arc weapon.

Fletcher went pale.

"I'd ask what you were thinking of doing with these," Alexei said, not even looking up at him, "But I can't see you actually coming up with a plan." He turned his gaze in the vague direction of his guards. "I'm sure the GSH would be interested in having this one," he said. "And her… she can help around here until we can find out who'll pay a ransom for her."

Good luck with that, Clee thought bitterly. "Help out how?" she demanded as one of the guards took hold of her.

"Like I said. That'll depend on what we can find out about you and Radu," Alexei said.

The woman standing behind them stared blankly at the group of them as the guards turned Clee and Fletcher roughly away and marched them off further into the complex.

For his part, Radu wouldn't have noticed any of this even if he'd been able to hear it. He leaned into the wrinkled hand of someone he thought he'd never see again as she slowly ran a comb through his mess of hair with the other. Her appearance was different from what he remembered - red hair, she was supposed to have red hair - but he would've recognized that touch anywhere.

"Now let's look at the rest of you," the woman said in a reassuring voice, reaching around him to lift a hand covered in scabs that suddenly stiffened in fear. "Radu...! How did this happen? It looks like we'll have to relearn how to handle that, then, won't we?"

Radu's blood ran cold.

Taglist (let me know if you want on or off)

@verkja

@whumpsday

@skinofafish

@whither-wander-whump

#Clee Dternás #Radu #Barclay Fletcher #lab whump #nonhuman whumpee #captivity whump #military whump #bad caretaker #multiple whumpees #cult dynamics #minor character death #Barclay must suffer in every continuity

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hellavile · 2 years

Note

okay i needed to provide visuals before i wrote this bc i just love looking at this man’s face. look at what you did mocha just LOOK. you’ve pushed your agenda on me (which ive accepted with open arms) and now my brain and pussy are trained to react whenever i see or hear this man’s voice. demon daddy muzan got it like that fr 😩

ANYWAY listen to me babe. we were talking about voice links right? and that man’s voice is like……..idek how else to describe it other than what you already said: it’s PURE SEX. like auditory lust tickling and licking our eardrums and our dripping core whenever he speaks to us. so ima use the same “y/n” (us, obviously) from my last muzan thirst and just continue from there. the longer we’re with him the more things about muzan we start notice like his little habits or quirks or whatever that make him unique and we appreciate them more overall because we’re just sickly in love with him. one of those things is his voice and we start becoming like…eager and needy for his attention constantly just so we can get a chance to hear his voice again . he finds it a little annoying at first because he’s trying to do something or looking through papers and conducting experiments in his study and whatnot and then here we are whining in his ear and clinging to his strong back, “muzannnn, when are you coming to bed? i miss you,” our blubbering plea is muffled because we have our face smushed against back as we embraced him from behind. then there was a long pause, a prolonged silence that didn’t feel normal. a kind of quiet that told you he was irritated. turning his head halfway around, you noticed the prominent veins in his forehead, cheeks and neck pulsating angrily, but his face remained stoic and hard as stone. “woman,” was all he said before we reluctantly go of him in fear of what he would have done. he may have cared for you, but a part of you didn’t fully believe that and didn’t wish to test his limits. that one simple word held so much weight. it was rich and leveled, and had an unshakable quality that left no room for protest or back talk.

your heart raced uncontrollably, but your pussy pulsated in delight. you bit the inside of your cheek to contain yourself. “i’ll be completed with my research soon enough. it would do you well to cease your incessant whining and wait for me in bed, like a good girl. surely, you can do that, can’t you?” the fact he still didn’t even have the courtesy to directly face you when he spoke caused you to encase the fabric of your trailing night gown in a vice grip. you gave him a meek nod, “y-yes, i can.” he gave you a hum in reply, and fully returned his attention to whatever he was working on in front of him. “now, go on. i’ll join you later.” and you complied , because you wouldn’t dream of opposing him.

you especially loved to hear muzan’s voice when you and the demon king’s limbs were entangled with each other, the room hot and sticky with the sounds of your cacophonous moans reverberating off the walls of his extravagant bedroom, or the obscene squelching noises of him ravaging your body, and claiming your entire being as his over and over and over . tonight—or rather the last week or two— you’d been particularly needy because muzan was seldom at the infinity castle; he was out traveling for his own ambitions, gathering information, materials (including more unfortunate souls to turn into demons) for the ‘research’ he held so dear— probably more dear than you, if you let your intrusive thoughts conquer your rational mind. and when you had heard that he had been parading about tokyo with another woman, another human woman like you with her child, you had tossed yourself into despair. you’d become desolate, muddled with your own thoughts that you couldn’t seem to pull yourself out of. a small part of your mind expected something like this to happen, for him to get bored of you, but you just didn’t anticipate it in this way. and when he returned he didn’t appreciate your little tantrum at all. he wouldn’t dare to admit it to himself that he liked your attention just as much as you did, and felt indignation bubble you from the bottom of his stomach and quickly arose until his irritation was too much to keep to himself. he needed to exert it on something— and you were the perfect candidate.

so returning to the matter at hand, you enjoyed when he got. . . ardent like this, when he used his voice to talk you through the euphoric experience of being in his grasp, of having his thick, long fingers plunge in and out of your sloppy heat. you could feel the burning sensation of his lust (or was it love?) for you radiate from his body into your own. muzan had a grandiose mirror resting against the wall, and he had you spread out in front of it, your legs resting on top of his as his own legs held you open, and the other hand sprawled across the expanse of your throat to keep you facing forward, and maintain eye contact through the reflective surface.

“poor human, looks like all you needed was to be filled and your pathetic little attitude would go away, hmm?” your hips rocked and bucked to the rhythm of his digits, while you unintentionally let your ass grind back against his protruding bulge. “

“mhm. . .! yes muzan, i just missed you…”

“‘you just missed me?’” he mocked you sardonically. leaning closer to your ear, you felt his warm breath and sharp fangs graze your skin, causing you to shudder in his hold and arch your back even more than it already was before. he could feel you clamp down on his fingers, and he could feel his self-control withering away at alarming rates when he imagined you clenching around his cock like this, so desperately. “have you forgotten just who it is i come back to? who it is that sleeps in my bed, wears things i purchase, who it is i feed and take care of?”

you knew the answer to all those questions was you, and it made your heart flutter in your chest like a school girl, but you couldn’t find it in you to speak anymore, allowing yourself to get lost in the depth of his fingers and the intense stare of his bloody, crimson irises. drool and a needy whine emerged from your lips when he added another finger inside your gummy hole, and simultaneously added more pressure against his palm that constantly brushed against your throbbing clit with each insertion and withdrawal. so badly did you want to clamp around his arm, but his powerful thighs prevented you from doing so.

“repeat after me,” muzan spoke again after all he heard from you were pitiful mewls. the demon’s voice got deeper, the volume lowered, his tone huskier and even closer to your eardrum, so that his next words would surely rattle your very brain and soul. “i belong to muzan kibutsuji, alone.”

“i-i…belong t-to muza—aaah! fuck,‘t’s s-so deep…so deep daddy…” as if his fingers couldn’t go any further, you were proven wrong when his digits brushed against a certain, warm spot inside you that made you throw your head back against his shoulder.

“i know angel, i know. now look at me.” muzan completely disregarded your words as his grip on your throat tightened for a moment. his command left no room was law, and you obeyed to the best of you ability, although your vision was blurry because of the tears that started to pool at your eyelids. “repeat,” there was a short pause when he began to leave soft, wet kisses on your neck, never pulling his gaze from you; not once. “. . . after me. or you won’t get to cum. i can feel you squeezing around me and can smell your arousal so i know your close. you do want to cum for daddy, don’t you?”

I FINALLY HAD TIME TO FUCKING SIT DOWN AND READ THIS FUCKING ANGELIC ART AND SKENSJSJDNELWOODNENNSD FUCK MEEEEE BRO YOU RLLY DID IT. NO BC. NONONONO BC THISSSSSSSS ????? YEAH THIS IS IT. THIS IS DEFINITELYYYYY WHAT I NEEDED TO GET THE CLIT PUMPING BABY. lemme tell you sum. i still can’t get over how fucking nasty and seductive his fucking voice sounds like I WAS HEARING IT IN MY HEAD WHILE READING THIS ITS FR SICKENING. SICKENINGGGGGGGGGGGGG. MUZAN FUCKING KIBUTSUJIIII. daddy i’ll moan your full fucking government for 90 days on end if you needed me to. the way we’re clinging to his back bc we’re so needy for his attention and he treats us like a fucking PEASANT, not even bothering to look our way and calling us “woman” SSSSEEEEEZZZSZSS. idk what it is about the woman but it’s so hot LMAO. like i’m on the floor. his stern “repeat’ NGF I HEAR IT I HEAR IT SO CLEARLY ITS INSANEEEEE HOW FERAL IVE BECOME OVER HIM ITS NOT OKAY. IM NOT OKAY.

“i’ll be completed with my research soon enough. it would do you well to cease your incessant whining and wait for me in bed, like a good girl. surely, you can do that, can’t you?” bro could spit on me and i’d literally thank him like stfu muzan i will do anything you say. don’t have to tell me twice baby i swear. swear daddy SWEARRRER DADDY SWEARRRRRRDEEEEEEE . if i could moan into a text format i’d do it on meeee. i want you hear just how down bad i am for him. and you’ve made it worst love, so thank you so fucking much for this. LIKE CAN WE JUST APPLAUD SOSA FOR THIS FUCKING WRITING ???? like you get greater every time. i feel like i was rlly reading some top tier content. full fucking bestseller novel right here. you write tooooo good !!!! like you have to take all of these thirsts and turn it into one fic or else i’ll jump off a cliff. i’ll run into a brick wall. i’ll dive into a pit of swimming sharks.

i’m gonna think about this while i write this fic for him this weekend. it’s finna be so disgustingly freaky like yes i know i shouldn’t like this man, he’s a piece of shit who should rot in hell, but baby when it comes to that DICK ???? ima sit on it. ima ride it. and his face. ima be his cute lil demon who he fucks just to fuck. don’t care if there’s no attachment. i’m his. HE EVEN TOLD ME DID YALL SEE ? DID YOU SEE DID YOU SEEEE? he saiddddddd “have you forgotten just who it is i come back to? who it is that sleeps in my bed, wears things i purchase, who it is i feed and take care of?” EX-FUCKING-ACTLY HOES. KEEP THAT IN MIND WHEN YALL SPEAK ON DEMON DADDY MUZAN. SHIDDDDDD

#✉️ ❛ mail !#muzan <3 #muzan thirst #kny #wow wow wow i’ll never get over this #fucking brilliant #i also saved them photos with a quickness

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callsign-magnolia · 1 year

Text

I Hope You Dance // Ch. 25

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

A/N: This is cross posted to my Wattpad, so if this seems familiar that is why!

TW: Mental abuse, emotional abuse, slight physical abuse, death and loss.

Description: When Caila meets Rooster, sparks fly. But, she's already married, to a man who she thought loved her, and won't let her go. Rooster will fight for her, he just has to convince Caila to fight for herself.

Word Count: 7.9k

Chapter 24 | Masterlist

I spent that night awake, and when four a.m. came around again I realized I had officially been awake for days without any sleep at all. I decided to go on an early morning run on the beach, hoping I would finally wear myself out. Halfway through my run the right side of my head started hurting and I knew I had to get back to the house. The pain eased slightly when I got back, so I just took some over the counter meds instead of my prescription before getting in the shower. I took a long hot shower, trying to soothe my aching muscles and scrubbing myself clean. I still felt incredibly irritated, almost pissed at Rooster and I hated it. It made me want to smash my head into the wall.

As I got out I looked at myself in the mirror for the first time in days. I was paler and the dark circles under my bloodshot eyes were prominent. I had to get some sleep, I was bordering on dangerous if I didn't. I decided to crawl back in bed with Dahlia and hope for sleep, so as I curled against her warm body I tossed my arm over my eyes and laid still. I know I hurt Bradley last night, I hated that I did it but I was so angry in the moment. I feel like I'm going crazy and I just feel like everyone was calling me crazy last night. I've been through hell, but surely that didn't push me over the edge, right?

I don't know how long I laid there but I finally moved when my phone rang. As I moved my arm, I saw the sun peeking through the curtains and I groaned as it made my head pound more. I leaned over, grabbing my phone and seeing a local number pop up. I immediately sat up, groaning in pain as I did and answered the call. "Hello?" I croaked. I probably sounded sick or something. "Lieutenant Motley. It's Admiral Simpson, how are you? You don't sound so good." I cleared my throat before answering, not wanting to sound worse than I am. "I just have a migraine. How can I help you Admiral?" I bit my lip, anticipating the news. "As of Monday your paperwork to be reinstated will be completed. I was just wondering if you were ready to come back?" I nodded to myself, excitement growing. "Absolutely. I am more than ready."

"Good, we'll see you at 0600 on Monday morning." I kicked my legs in excitement. "Thank you, Admiral." We exchanged our goodbyes before I threw myself back on the bed, squealing in excitement. Suddenly I felt something wet, sitting up I looked down seeing mother nature made her appearance, a whole week late. "SON OF A BITCH!" I yelled out in anger, my excitement dying as I realized I now had to clean. I got up, ripping the sheets off the bed forcing Dahlia to get up before I dragged them downstairs and tossed them in the washer. The phone call was a distraction and as that faded I felt the pounding in my head again so I took another dose of meds, not caring how long it had been since my last dose. I went back upstairs getting back in the shower and scrubbing my body clean once again before putting on fresh clothes, basically one of Rooster's UVA shirts and underwear, pants or shorts are just too tight right now.

I went back downstairs with my dirty clothes, putting the sheets in the dryer and the clothes in the washer before grabbing a water and tossing myself down onto the couch. I once again just laid there, sleep never coming like I hoped. Tear spilled down my cheeks in frustration. All I wanted was to sleep for days and I couldn't even sleep for five minutes and with a migraine coming on it just made me feel worse. I cried, hard. Hoping that would tire me out but it didn't, it only made me sick. I rushed into the downstairs bathroom, throwing up what little I had in my system. I cried as I leaned against the wall, just wanting things to go back to normal. When I was sure I wouldn't puke again I managed to crawl back into the living room, grabbing my phone and making my way upstairs. I went back into the bathroom, opening the drawer that I keep my feminine products and only finding one tampon left. "Fuck."

Once I was finished in the bathroom and washed my hands I went and laid on the bed dialing Phoenix's number. "Hey, Magnolia. You okay?" I shook my head. "I'm out of tampons. Would you be the love of my life and grab me a box when you leave base?" She hummed. "Absolutely. Anything else?" I thought for a minute, a sharp pain passing through my lower abdomen. "A heating pad. I haven't been able to find mine since the move." I said rolling onto my stomach to ease the ache. "I can do that. Can you wait till we finish at four?" I nodded. "Yeah, I can. Door's unlocked. Thank you, Phoenix." I could practically hear her smile on the other side of the line. "You're welcome, Magnolia." With that I hung up, hoping that if anything the pain from my oncoming migraine would knock me unconscious.

~~~

"Bradshaw!" Phoenix yelled at him, catching his attention as he climbed out of the cockpit of his jet. "I'm not up for a lecture, Phoenix." He said meeting her halfway across the hangar. "I just want to know why my best friend is ignoring me? You never gave Hangman and I an explanation last night when you said she was gone." He huffed, pushing past her but she stopped him by grabbing the helmet he had in his hand. "You don't get this back until I get an explanation." He glared at her, not up for her antics today. "I fucked up." Phoenix raised a brow at the vagueness he offered her. "Explain." She said and he sighed, moving his sunglasses from the bridge of his nose, up to his hair.

"You know I asked her to move in, right?" She nodded, spinning the helmet in her hands. "I had been planning to renovate and we agreed to do it together before she officially moved in. I told her to wait for me to get home before she started, I told her it was because I didn't want her to hurt herself but really I wanted to be there when we started. We were tearing out all the things my parents did to that house, it was harder than I thought to start this process but when I got home..." He paused, catching his breath as sadness swelled in his chest. "Dammit, Phoenix. She had already taken the bedframe apart and ripped up over half of the carpet upstairs. Hell, she had even sanded the entire bedframe and stained it black." Phoenix raised a brow. "I'm confused. Did you not want those things done?"

Of course she was confused. Rooster meant everything to Magnolia, she wouldn't just go making changes unless she was sure he was on board. But from what Rooster had told her, she had been acting weird the last few days. "I did, I did. I just, it was overwhelming to walk in and see the house upside down. My parents boombox and a box of cassette tapes had been set on the mantle because she was listening to them. She found them in the closet along with some home videos my parents made." He had tears in his eyes as he spoke. "So what's the problem?" Phoenix asked trying to understand what drove them apart so suddenly.

"I yelled at her. I told her she didn't get to come in and make changes, I told her it was my house and she could've caused some real damage and fuck up something." Phoenix's face fell, realizing Rooster did more than just hurt her feelings. He basically told her she was a fuck up, and that she couldn't do things right. Just like Aaron basically had for their entire relationship. "I also told her the house meant more to me than anything else." He said, running his hands over his face. There it was. He categorized her second, which probably hurt more than anything else he said. "I tried apologizing to her that night, I stood in front of her door for a whole hour just knocking and talking. I think she was there but I couldn't be sure, so I just left the food I brought home in front of her door. She opened the door and took it pretty quick and she sent me a thank you text but she wouldn't actually talk to me."

Phoenix just crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him as he beat himself up mentally and emotionally. "I can't function Phoenix. She became part of my every day life so fast, I woke up this morning still expecting her and Dahlia to be in the bed and neither of them were. Then her mom called me in a panic saying Mags yelled and cussed at her." Phoenix furrowed her brows. That was very strange behavior for Magnolia. She's always so kind with her mother, they may yell but she always makes it a point to never cuss at her mom and vice versa. "She was rambling on about how she thought she was having a manic episode." Phoenix felt like she stepped into another dimension. This wasn't the Magnolia she knew.

"Manic? Magnolia suffered from depression in her marriage but I've never heard of her having any form of mania. I think that usually comes with bipolar one." Rooster's eyebrows shot up. "That's why she was going on about not being crazy last night." He said, realizing why she was going on about it. "What?" "Last night, when I got to the hard deck. She was talking to Penny and she thought Mags should talk to someone. Then Mags said she hadn't been speaking to her therapist since before the uranium mission." Phoenix's eyebrows shot up. "No, she was supposed to be in therapy for a whole three years." Rooster looked to her confused. "It was something the doctor suggested after the accident. Her marriage is a lot of baggage to unpack so when she started seeing her therapist she recommended three years as a baseline to unpack everything."

Rooster groaned, falling into a chair that sat next to him. "She thought we were calling her crazy and she kept going on about how she wasn't. We just wanted her to get help but she was flying off the handle." Phoenix was growing worried for her best friend, her unusual behavior setting off all the alarm bells in her head. "Did she say anything about hurting herself?" Rooster shook his head and glared at Phoenix. "I wouldn't have given her the option of being alone if she did. She just said she wanted to be alone and that I 'Shouldn't come knocking on her door.' as she put it." Phoenix nodded, sitting in the chair next to him. "I need to talk to her, apologize and help her but I have to have a reason to see her first. She won't answer the door otherwise." Phoenix hummed when suddenly her phone rang, and the name on the screen made her gasp. "It's her." She said standing and answering, Rooster basically pressed against her to listen to the conversation.

The entire time, she was shoving Rooster off trying to get him to give her space. Until finally she hung up, Rooster looking at her with raised brows. "You have your in." She said as she put her phone in one of her pockets. "Her period hit. She needs tampons and a new heating pad." Rooster nodded enthusiastically, willing to do anything for her. "I told her I would get it after work. Do not screw this up because if you do then she'll hate us both." He nodded, pulling Phoenix into a hug. "Oh my god, thank you Phoenix." She smiled and hugged her back. "Go the extra mile and get her favorite dish from that Italian place she loves, she loves carbs on her period." Rooster nodded and turned away before she stopped him again. "I don't think her behavior is being caused by mother nature dropping in. I still think there's something else there." He nodded, his grim features matching her. "Me too."

With that he went about his day, ready to just be done with the day. He just wanted to go home and take care of his girl, after days apart he just wanted to be in her presence. He got what she needed from the drugstore, along with a KitKat bar before heading off to the Italian restaurant and getting the food before going and getting her a simple bouquet of roses from the florist. He sped home, hoping to see her as soon as possible. His smile made his face ache as he grabbed everything making his way to her door. He debated on knocking but if she felt bad then maybe she left it unlocked, she told him she tends to do that so people can come in if they need, not that he agrees that it's safe.

He slowly opened the door to the spotless house, looking around for her hoping he would see her before she had the chance to run him out. "Mags." He called out gently, trying not to be too loud in case she was asleep. He set the food and flowers on the coffee table, taking the bag with the tampons and heating pad upstairs with him. He peeked into her room, expecting to see her in bed but nothing, he even looked in her bathroom. His concern started growing when he didn't see her anywhere upstairs. As he came back down stairs he noticed Dahlia jumping up and down. "Hey, big girl." He said attempting to pet her but all she did was throw her head around and make her way towards the kitchen.

He followed her, confused as to why she wouldn't let him pet her. He followed her into the kitchen, his heart stopping at the sight before him. It was only Magnolia's bare legs from her mid-thighs down but from what he could see it seemed she was face down on the floor. His body immediately reacted, sliding on his knees till he was next to her body. "Magnolia!" He called frantically, checking for a pulse and finding one but it was faint. He looked around finding a bunch of pills in the floor and a spot that looked like she vomited up stomach acid. "No. No. No. Magnolia! Please! You gotta wake up for me!" He panicked, pulling her into his arms as he leaned against her cabinets.

He pulled out his phone, fumbling it into the floor multiple times before he finally picked it up and dialed 911. "911, what's your emergency?" He cleared his throat trying to make sure the operator could hear him clearly. "I'm at 423 Oceanside Lane in Miramar, I found my girlfriend unconscious and I think she took a bunch of her migraine pills." Saying the words out loud made him feel sick and partly responsible. "Okay sir, what's your girlfriends name?" He choked on a sob as her head rolled back in his arms, her face showing nothing but peace. "Caila Motley. Lieutenant Caila Motley." The operator hummed in acknowledgement. "Okay and do you know the exact name of the pills she took and how high the dosage was?"

"It's Sum-something. Suma-" "Sumatriptan?" He nodded. "That's it and it's fifty milligrams a pill." He jostled Magnolia slightly, hoping she would wake up. "Okay and does she have a heart beat?" He set the phone down, finding the faint heartbeat in her neck before grabbing the phone again. "Yeah, it's faint but it's there." "Good, I have an ambulance en route. Do you want me to stay on the line?" He shook his head. If these were his last moments with her then he wanted it to just be him and her, he had things to say, things he needed her to hear. "No, thank you." They hung up and he tossed his phone to the floor immediately making sure Magnolia was wrapped up in both of his arms.

"I'm sorry, Mags. I never should've said those things to you. It's just a house but you, you mean everything to me pretty girl. I never thought of living in a world without you, but I now realize I can't do it." This tears were a constant stream on his cheeks, his own words making him realize how dire this situation truly is. "I was considering proposing you know? My mom's sister still has a house in Virginia that has some of my stuff still in it. When she came home from Paris I wanted to go and get my mom's wedding ring. You'd love it. It's gold with a beautiful pear shaped diamond in it. Nothing could match your beauty though." He grabbed her left hand, bring her fingers up for a kiss. "It'd look perfect on your hand, where it belongs." He looked back at her blank face as more tears slipped out, a few falling onto her face which he wiped away. "I should've been here, I should've tried harder. I love you, pretty girl. Even if you hate me, I will always love you." He whispered as he shifted her body, checking her pulse again, a sigh of relief escaping as he felt the faint beating.

He buried his face in her hair, placing a kiss to it as he heard the sirens making Dahlia rise from her guarding position next to Rooster. "Down, Dahls." The black Great Dane listened, taking her place next to Rooster her ears still up and pointed at the front door. "They're here to help you, honey. We're gonna get you help and everything is gonna be okay." He heard the door open and a voice call out. "Miramar EMS!" He leaned over to be visible from the front door. "We're in here."

Medics and an officer rushed in, back to the kitchen where Rooster still held her limp body. "She still has a heart beat." He said and they nodded, rolling her out of his arms and onto her back on the floor. "What's her name?" One medic asked as the officer pulled Bradley to the side. "Caila Motley." Rooster watched them work, taking her vitals and such when suddenly one pulled out smelling salts. "Hey, that's not protocol." His partner called out as he opened the smelling salts, waving them under Magnolia's nose. "I don't think she OD'd." The other said when suddenly she started coughing.

Rooster's hands fell to his knees, holding himself up as he sobbed. "You woke me up." She cried out, tears streaming down her face. "Miss Motley, can you tell us where you are?" She continued to cry as Rooster pushed away from the officer, going to her. Falling on his knees next to her, taking her face in his hand. "Bradley?" He nodded, brushing some loose hairs back into her short ponytail. "It's me, pretty girl. Can you tell the medics where you are?" Her eyes flitted around before she looked to the medics. "My kitchen." She said as she started crying again. "Why are you so upset, ma'am?" One asked as she continued to cry. "You woke me up!" She sounded so pitiful, the sound almost making Rooster's heart break in two. "Why is that such a bad thing?" The other asked and she shot up into a sitting position. "I haven't slept in over sixty fucking hours! That's why!" Rooster grabbed her, holding her to his chest as he tried to calm her.

"Were you purposefully sleeping on the floor, miss Motley?" The officer asked confused and she scoffed. "Of course not." The medics motioned for her to stand, Bradley helping her into a chair. "Then why were you in the floor?" Rooster asked and she looked down at her hands that were resting on top of the island. "I passed out." Rooster's face paled at her words. "Do you know how that happened?" She nodded, her eyes welling with tears. "I have a migraine. I went to take one of my pills for it when I thought I saw someone walking by the doorway there." She said pointing to the kitchen doorway. Rooster's blood ran cold, the door had been unlocked and anyone could've walked in off the street. His hands gripped the back of the chair, his knuckles turning white at the thought of someone else being in here with her while she was alone.

"It startled me and I dropped the bottle and the pills went everywhere. I bent down too fast and got sick, the room was spinning and I still felt sick so I decided to lay on the ground to calm myself and wound up falling asleep, finally." The medics nodded. "Do you mind if I take a look around? Just to be safe." Magnolia sighed, rubbing her forehead but nodded anyway. "Be my guest. I'm sure it was a hallucination though." The officer nodded, walking away as the medics decided to check her for a concussion. Once they were done they packed up. "Everything seems fine. But I would recommend going to the doctor about the not sleeping and your moods." She rolled her eyes but nodded anyway.

"I'll walk you guys out." Rooster said before following the medics to the front door. "Thank you guys, seriously." They nodded, shaking his hand as the officer joined them. "Looks all clear to me." He thanked him as one of the medics spoke up. "It really seems like she may be having a manic episode. I would take her to the doctor first thing tomorrow morning." He sighed but nodded. They left and he shut the door. How was he supposed to get her to the doctor? She'll surely refuse to go and he can't trick her, she'd never trust him again. He turned and grabbed the food before he walked back into the kitchen, seeing her with her head on the counter. "Huh, you're still here." She quipped and he couldn't help the small smile that grew on his face. "I'm not going anywhere."

He looked down at the floor, seeing the pills were still there. "I'll clean this up and then we'll get you a shower and you can eat the food I brought." He said reaching to brush some hair from her face when she leaned away, making his heart crack slightly. "It's my house, I'll clean it up." She muttered but as she went to stand from the chair he blocked her, causing her to fall back into the seat. "Okay, stop. What I said was harsh and I'm sorry. I never should've said any of those things to you." She hung her head, fiddling with her fingers. "I was wrong. It's not my house, it's ours now. It was the second we discussed you moving in. But you can't keep shutting me out, Mags. I'm not going to let you." She picked her head up, avoiding his gaze as ore tears streamed down her face.

"I'm so sorry for hurting you. I should've told you from the beginning but I wasn't worried about you hurting yourself." Her head snapped to him, her brows furrowed in anger or confusion. "It was hard to think about the house changing and I wanted to be there when we started. I still hadn't come to terms with the renovation, so when I walked in it was just all so overwhelming but it's no excuse for what I said." She stared into his eyes as he spoke, looking for any possible lies. "Why didn't you tell me the truth?" He shrugged. "I was worried you'd think I was weak for wanting to hold onto something like that." Her eyes immediately softened, one of her hands coming up to rest on his cheek. "Oh, Roo, no. They were your parents, there's nothing wrong with wanting to hold onto those memories."

Tears flowed down his cheeks once again at the feeling of her soft hands on his face. They were much smaller than his but cradled his face well. He leaned into her touch as she placed a soft kiss to his chin. "I'm sorry, Roo. I've been such a bitch these past two days and-" "No you haven't." She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Yes I have. I just feel like I'm losing my mind here. I have all this energy, my moods are all over the place and I literally haven't slept in almost sixty-two hours. Something's wrong with me Rooster and I feel like I'm slipping." He pursed his lips, nodding as his forehead rested on hers. "We're going to get you some help, Mags. I promise." She took a shaky breath, scared at the simple thought of walking into a doctor's office.

"Bradley, what if they diagnose me with something that pulls me from flying? I don't know how to do anything else. I would lose everything." A sob racked her body as he pulled her into his chest, placing a soft kiss to her forehead as she cried. "Hey, hey. No you won't, the team will always be here. I will always be here. We will figure something out, you won't be alone in this." She sobbed some more as he rocked her body back and forth until she finally calmed down. "Now, I'm going to clean this up. You're going to shower and then I'm going to feed you." She hiccupped, sitting up so she wasn't leaning against him anymore. "I need a few things that Phoenix was bringing." He scratched the back of his neck, scrunching his face at her. "That's why I'm here."

She stared at him in confusion for a minute. "I knew you wouldn't talk to me without a reason so she told me to get the stuff you needed and bring it here." His hands came up to cradle her face when he thought about her lying on the floor, his heart breaking all over again. "So many things ran through my mind when I saw you on the floor. But when I saw all those pills, I really thought I had lost you." She shook her head. "I'd never do that. I'm sorry that I scared you." He shook his head. "Don't apologize, honey." They held each other for a few more minutes before they pulled away. "Alright, go get your shower. I'll clean up and reheat the food I brought." She nodded, standing and slowly making her way upstairs. Rooster quickly picked up the pills, tossing them in the trash before cleaning the floor.

~~~

The shower felt nice, more relaxing than anything else the last few days. I ran my hands through my hair, rinsing the shampoo out as the bathroom door opened. "Mags?" I hummed in response, his voice bringing me comfort. "Mind if I join? I'm still sweaty from training." I smiled at his question. "Yeah." I said almost too quietly. I heard him strip and I faced the shower head as he got in. I felt him carefully place a kiss on my shoulder as I washed my face, his hands gently landing on my waist. "This okay?" I nodded before turning to face him. "Why did you come back?" I asked, sliding my hands up his chest until they rested on his shoulders.

He pulled me closer till our bodies were touching, his lips landing on my forehead. "Why wouldn't I?" He asked before grabbing my conditioner. "I was awful to you. That first night I just needed to be alone but the next day I was so angry with you and this morning too. I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again." He chuckled, his hands cradling my face. "Honey, I'm here for the long haul. I'm not going anywhere." I leaned my head on his chest as I cried. "I'm sorry, Bradley." He kissed my head, rocking me back and forth. "I'll always forgive you, pretty girl. Now come on, let's finish in here. I think I just came up with another surprise for you." I wiped the tears from my face as he started running the conditioner through my short hair.

"You don't have to do anything for me Bradley, you've done so much today." He shook his head. "No, you're gonna love it." He said pecking my cheek. We finished our shower and I put on another one of his shirts before going downstairs. I walked in to see him put the pasta in a skillet to reheat it. "Uh uh, go sit." I furrowed my brows. "I'm not doing anything." He shook his head. "But I know you will. Now, that's heating up but you are going to park your pretty self on the couch." He said wrapping his arms around my waist, picking me up and carrying me to the couch. "Dahlia!" He called, patting the couch, encouraging her to jump onto the couch and lay her head in my lap.

"Stay here, pretty girl." He took off our my front door, leaving it open and I looked to Dahlia with furrowed brows. "What just happened, Dahlia?" I asked her confused, she just groaned and laid across my lap. After a minute he came back in with the box of home movies and the VCR. "What are you doing?" I asked, giggling as he juggled the box. "My parents aren't here, so I'm going to do the next best thing to introduce you to my parents." He said tossing me a wink before he sat on the floor in front of the tv. "Need some help?" He shook his head. "Nope." I watched as he hooked everything up, and pulled out a tape.

"Let me get dinner and we'll play this." I nodded as he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me to my thoughts. I still felt awful but to have a man like Bradley who decided to stick around through my craziness? If that's not god's work I don't know what is. After a few minutes he came back in, two plates in hand as well as a migraine pill and some water. "Dahlia, off." She slinked off the couch, meandering over to her bed, basically throwing herself into it. "I have never met a dog with more personality." Rooster said as he handed me my plate and meds. "She gets it from her mama." I said grinning at him. I took my meds as he sat down, pulling my feet over, tucking my toes under his thighs. He knows how cold I get and my toes always stay cold, so I'm always tucked into him in some way.

"Now, let me show you this." He said turning on the VCR and starting the tape. "Oh, finally!" A blonde woman yelled into the camera. She had light blue eyes and short blonde hair, her voice was loud which made me smile. "NICK!" She yelled, turning the camera around. "Honey. You'll wake him up." I immediately choked on my food as I heard his voice. Rooster paused the tv and patted my back. "Honey, hey. You okay?" I took a deep breath as I cleared my throat. "We have to get there before they do. Increase speed." "We got you, Mav. Don't wait for me." "Sir, Daggers, two and four are behind schedule." I don't think I have felt religious or prayed in years, but in that moment I didn't know what else to do, so I simply bowed my head. I listened and said a silent prayer in my head, but four little words made me perk up. "Talk to me, dad." 'It'll be okay, Caila.' I shook my head. I didn't recognize the voice, it wasn't booming and thunderous as most people claim God to be. It sounded caring, strong, comforting. "Come on, kid. Don't think, just do."

"Mags." He called and I looked to him. "You'll think I'm genuinely crazy if I tell you." He shook his head, pulling me closer to kiss my forehead. "I'll never think you're crazy, just tell me." He said as he took my hand in his. "On the mission when you got behind schedule, I didn't know what else to do so I started praying." He nodded as he listened intently. "When I did, you said, 'Talk to me, dad.' and I heard this... voice. It said 'It'll be okay, Caila.' and I thought it was maybe a voice I created in my head, or god but that's highly doubtful." He nodded, squeezing my hand. I stared at the tv, a tall man with blonde a hair and brown eyes stood with the tiniest baby in his arms. "I think it was your dad." I said falling back into the couch. "You think my dad told you it would all be okay?" I nodded. "It sounds ridiculous. You know, just pretend I didn't say that."

I felt ridiculous telling my boyfriend his dad that's been dead since 1986, spoke to me through some supernatural form of communication. "Mags, my dad is dead, he has been for a long time." I nodded. "I know and now I feel like shit for bringing it up." He set his plate down on the coffee table, pulling me into him. "No, don't feel bad. It doesn't seem so ridiculous." I furrowed my brows at him. "Once in a while when I'm struggling I think I hear my mom. But she hasn't been gone as long as dad." I stared down at my plate. "I don't think your crazy." I shrugged. "I do. This is the first time I've ever seen a video of your dad or heard his voice. How do you explain it?" He shrugged, pursing his lips.

"Maybe he was just telling you it was going to be okay. It did turn out okay, didn't it?" I stared at him, surprised he wasn't upset with me. "After I felt like I was dying, I guess it did." He chuckled and played the video. "He spent almost ten months with me, if he's not used to my loud voice now then he never will be." We laughed at his mother's words. She moved closer, zooming in on the babies face. "Hi Bradley." My bottom lip jutted out as I looked at baby Bradley. "Oh my god you were adorable." He chuckled as we continued to watch his parents dote on him. We watched a few more videos, his first steps, his first words, his first birthday. Then he took our dishes to the kitchen while I picked out another tape. I grabbed an unmarked one and put it in and pressed play.

It was a video of Nick and Carol, smiling into the camera. "Hi baby! So, it's your wedding day. We wanted to make this video for you now, to remind you how much we love you and we have a few words for you and whatever woman decided to marry our amazing boy!" I immediately turned it off and pulled it out, not wanting to spoil it. If we ever got married, I wanted this video to be a surprise for both of us. I grabbed a random one and popped it in as he came back, a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream in hand and two spoons. I smiled at him, rushing over and sitting next to him. "What'd you put in?" I shrugged, realizing I really didn't pay attention. "I really don't know, I just grabbed one." I said as I grabbed the pint from him. He hit play, before pulling my legs over his, gently rubbing my calves.

Cheering started on the tv, a video showing Bradley standing on home plate at a high school baseball field. "Oh shit, this is my senior year, we made it all the way to the championships." I watched, Carol's cheering drowning out every other voice around her making me giggle. "I can see why our parent's got along, our mom's voice sat on the same decibel." He laughed loudly at my words. I watched as the Bradley on the tv swung the bat, connecting with the ball and the cheers turned to screaming. "GO BABY! GO! GO! GO!" Carol's voice screamed out as Bradley took off in a sprint. He cleared every base, diving chest first onto home plate. More cheers erupted and the camera shook as everyone around Carol jostled around. The team lifted Bradley up, carrying him across the field, making us laugh.

The video shut off and cut back on as Carol walked towards Bradley in the dugout. "You're daddy would be so proud." She said as she pulled him into a hug. "I know, mom." I got a good look at his face, smiling at the sight. He was adorable with his flushed cheeks, and baby face. I looked to him, admiring the difference. "What?" I smiled at him. "You looked so cute, all baby faced!" I said pinching his cheek. He pushed my hand away, smiling at me. "Imagine if we met in high school." I laughed loudly as he stared at me. "What?" I looked to him, his confused face making him look adorable. "Did you forget we have a nine year age gap?" HIs eyebrows shot up as if he remembered. "Oh shit, so you were in like the third grade when I was a high school senior."

"This just took a weird turn." He said, looking to me. "We're both adults now and I'll be thirty next year... I'll be thirty next year!" I yelled out, realizing I was almost thirty. He laughed at me eating more ice cream. "You're getting old." I glared at him. "Sir, that means you will be one year shy of forty next year." His face fell and he capped the ice cream, launching himself across the couch and tackling me, tickling my sides. "Tired yet?" He asked when he stopped, still laying on me. I shook my head, my mood souring. "No." He sat up, pulling me with him so he was laying on his back and I was on his chest. "What if I don't sleep tonight?" I asked as he ran his fingers through my still damp hair. "Then I guess I'll tire you out." I raised a brow at him. "You realize I-" "We'll lay down a towel, it'll be okay."

We spent the next few hours cuddling on the couch, his hands running up and down my back, trying to soothe me to sleep but it didn't work. I didn't feel like I was bursting at the seams with energy but I still wasn't sleepy. "Come on, let's get you in the bed." He said standing and pulling me with him. He held my hand all the way upstairs, where I brushed my teeth before laying in the bed. He was sitting up in the bed, not under the covers and just watching me. "Are you not laying down?" I asked and he raised a brow at me. "Do you want me to stay?" I nodded. "I think you not being here is part of the reason I haven't been sleeping. So yes, I want you to stay." He smiled at me before getting up and going to brush his teeth.

The room was dark, usually that wouldn't bother me, as I prefer to sleep in the pitch black but tonight it did bother me. I heard something move over towards my closet, my eyes darting over to that corner. It was noise traveling from the bathroom it had to be, there was no other explanation for it. I kept my eyes on the corner, not able to look away. I continued to stare when I thought I saw a hand come out from under the closet door. I jumped over, turning on the lamp just as Bradley came out of the bathroom. "You okay?" He asked. I stared at the closet, waiting for something else to happen.

He turned to where I was staring, before going over and throwing the door open. He flipped on the light finding nothing. "Did you see something?" He asked coming out, turning off the light and closing the door. I took a deep breath, fiddling with my fingers as I stared at the quilt on my bed. "Hey." I felt him crawl on the bed, taking a seat next to me as he turned my face to look at him. "You're not crazy. You said earlier you haven't slept in over sixty hours, that messes with your mind. If we can get you some sleep, you'll get better." I shook my head. "I'm not tired. How am I not tired? I shouldn't even be able to stand on my own." He shook his head as I started getting stressed. "Mags. Do you want me to take you to a hospital or something?" I shook my head as he brushed some hair from my face. "No, I really won't sleep there."

"What do you want me to do?" He asked as his hand rested on my thigh. "Hold me?" He nodded, turning off the lamp and climbing in bed behind me. "You'll be okay, Mags. I've got you." He whispered as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me back into his chest. "I love you, pretty girl." He said before placing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "I love you too, Roo." I replied as more tears streamed down my face. I laid there with my eyes closed, listening to his breathing, trying to focus on it and match it. I tried that for a while and it didn't work. I finally opened my eyes and wished I hadn't, I saw a shadow in the corner. I watched as it grew taller and taller, I knew I was hallucinating and decided to roll over and bury my face in Rooster's chest. Thankful he was there with me tonight, to help keep me sane.

His hands shifted, one on my back the other running through my hair. I laid there breathing in his scent, it calming me down. My foot itched and I used my other foot to scratch it, not wanting to shift away from Rooster for fear I'd see something. It itched again and I was getting frustrated, scratching it. I laid there a while longer until something that felt like a hand touched my calf, making me jolt. "Hey. Shh, I got you." Rooster's sleepy voice spoke out, his arms pulling me closer. I curled my legs up, sticking my feet between his legs to keep them warm. I laid there and suddenly my body felt heavier and I was slipping in and out of consciousness. I tried to keep my breathing steady, not wanting to get excited about the oncoming drowsiness.

"Magnolia." I buried my face in Rooster's chest, hoping he would stop saying my name. "Magnolia." It was a little louder now, so I hummed in response hoping he would stop and let me slip back into a peaceful state. "Magnolia." My head snapped up, ready to rip him a new one for keeping me awake when I heard soft snores escaping his lips. Please be sleep talking, please be sleep talking. I silently prayed, hoping he was just calling out for me in his sleep. I stared at his lips carefully, watching for any movement. "Magnolia." It was the same volume as the last one and I clenched my eyes shut, Rooster's lips never moved, in fact a louder snore escaped him as my name was called. "Nope. uh-uh." I muttered as I ever so carefully got out of bed, quietly going downstairs and into the kitchen. I pulled out the jar of Russian tea I kept, and putting some water on to boil.

Dahlia wandered in, looking up at me in confusion. "What is wrong with me?" I asked her, she simply groaned and wandered back into the living room. I listened as her nails clicked on the hardwood until finally she groaned, telling me she laid down in her bed. I made my tea when the water was hot, sipping on it as I stood there under the light from the stove. I looked around, on high alert for anything that moved and finally something did, a shadow in the kitchen doorway. Just like the one that scared me shitless earlier. I stared in fear, as it slowly walked across the doorway, disappearing on the other side. "Mags." I heard a whisper and a sob racked my body. "Leave me alone." I muttered, setting my mug down on the counter as I covered my eyes with my free hand. I heard footsteps coming closer and I shoved myself back into the counter. "Mags." It was more clear this time and I cried, pleading with my mind to stop. It was all hallucinations, visual and auditory.

"Mags." A had landed on my arm and I let out a scream as I jumped. "Mags, it's me." Rooster said as he grabbed my arms, keeping me from hitting him. "Mags, we have to get you some help." I nodded as he pulled me into him. "I thought you were a hallucination." He sighed and rubbed my back, rocking our bodies. "No, I'm really here, honey. What made you get up?" I sighed. "I thought I saw something in the corner. I told myself it was a hallucination and rolled over so I was facing you, then it felt like someone laid their hand on my leg which made me jump, and then something that sounded like you said my name when I was almost asleep. I thought you were sleep talking but you weren't, so I got up and came down here." He sighed, pulling me closer to him, tucking my head under his chin. "I didn't wake you, did I?" He quickly shook his head. "No, not at all. I guess I could just tell you weren't in the bed and your spot was cold. I got worried so I came looking for you. I thought you might've left or something." I shook my head.

"No, I'm here." He sighed, pressing his lips to my forehead. "I'm taking the day off tomorrow, and I'm taking you to the doctor." I shook my head. "You don't have to, Bradley. I can take myself." He shook his head. "Mm, no you can't. You shouldn't be driving so I will take you first thing in the morning." I sighed, knowing I wouldn't win and not having the energy to argue. "Thank you, Roo. I appreciate it." He nodded, kissing my head. "I'll always be here, Mags." Suddenly he picked me up bridal style. "Now, come on. Let's see if we can't get you to sleep." He took me back upstairs, laying me in the bed before crawling in and pulling my head into his chest. While I still didn't sleep, I kept my ear to his chest, his heartbeat drowning out all other noises and allowing me to at least lie next to him in peace.

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

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cellsshapedlikestars · 2 years

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Prompt: Winterfell High School doing a play/musical, maybe Sansa as a bit of a bratty actress and Jon working with the lights/sound/off-stage?

it's friday, i don't feel great, i've had a bad day, so here you go, have some nonsense high school jonsa! I hope everyone else is having a lovely friday and has an even lovlier weekend.

also, please note that I have never in my life done a play/musical and I went to maybe ONE in my entire school career and I have no idea how they work so do not @ me theater kids

read it on ao3 here:

ephemera, chapter 29

Jon's lounging when she comes storming back, pushing the heavy curtains aside. They're too bulky, and he watches her struggle through them as they barely move, but she manages to get through and when she's in front of him, she brushes a stray hair from her face and scowls at him.

“How hard is it to get spotlights right?” Sansa Stark asks, splotches of red high on her cheeks, her voice pitched up in irritation.

“I dunno,” he shrugs, looking over at said spotlights, ignoring the pull in his gut.

She stares at him, eyes wide, as if she can't comprehend his answer.

“We have three weeks until opening night,” she hisses, eyes narrowing when he doesn't give her any further explanation. “You're going to ruin everything!”

“You know what?” he says, scratching at the stubble on his chin – his newly grown beard. Or, the start of one. He hopes. “I must've switched scenes. I think I've got it now.”

She glares at him, but doesn't say anything else before she turns back around and heads out to the stage.

Jon behaves for the rest of rehearsal.

Mostly.

...

She tries to get him fired, except the drama teacher – who insists everyone call her Miss Melisandre – won't listen.

She had a vision, he overhears her tell Sansa. A vision that Jon Snow would be critical to the success of their play, and so she'd bargained with the principal and plucked him out of suspension and gave him stage duty instead. He knows he should be grateful that he isn't actually suspended, but he'd almost rather be than have to do a stupid school play.

The only upside is getting to see Sansa Stark regularly. Getting to watch her on stage, in her element, as she recites her lines perfectly. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

He never misses his cues with her. The only person he does-

“Can we please get Joffrey's light?” Sansa's voice echoes from the stage, an edge to it that makes it sound like she's five seconds away from murdering Jon.

Jon can't help the roll of his eyes as he leans over and turns Joffrey's light on. It's off center, and he keeps it that way.

“Just keep going, we'll fix the lights later,” he hears Miss Melisandre say.

Jon sits back where he was before, in his spot with the perfect view of the stage between the curtains, annoyed that they're continuing. Annoyance that morphs into a different sort of thing when Joffrey says his line and goes in for a kiss.

Jon looks away.

...

He's in a bad fucking mood today.

Ramsay was up to his normal bullshit. Apparently he didn't learn his lesson the last time, when Jon beat his face in for what he did to Sam. The thing that landed him a suspension, which threw him at the drama club's mercy.

He's early, because he needed to get away from Ramsay, before he lost his shit again, and he figured some alone time before the drama club arrived would do him good.

Just as he's passing the costume room, he hears something that makes him pause.

Someone's crying.

Not your business, he tells himself.

But instead of walking past the room like he knows he should, he lets out a sigh and opens the door.

Sansa looks up at him, nose red, face pale, eyes wet and shining, her mascara pooling beneath them.

“What are you doing here?” she spits, though the venom is lost when her voice hitches halfway through.

“You okay?” he asks, because he doesn't know what else to do. He's not great with emotions - or words - which is why he ended up fixing the Ramsay situation with his fists.

“Don't act like you care,” she says, it comes out stilted as she continues to cry. “I've been,” a hiccup, “practicing so hard,” another, “for this to be perfect.”

“The play?”

“Of course the play!”

“You've got your lines down,” he points out, shoving his hands into his pockets as guilt starts to creep through him.

“Not the kissing scene,” she argues. “We never get through it properly because you-” her voice breaks, but she keeps on, “-can't light it right, ever.” He winces, eyes dropping to the floor because he can't bring himself to look at her anymore. “I know you think the drama club is stupid-”

“I don't,” he interrupts, heart picking up pace in his chest until it's thrumming, beating out of control. “I mean, it's not my thing, but I don't think it's stupid.”

She watches him for a moment, eyes roving his face like she's looking for the lie.

“You're, uh,” he continues when she doesn't say anything, “you're really good. At acting.”

She's still watching him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He feels the weight of her stare, guilt sitting like a stone in his stomach.

“I'll get it right from now on, I-”

He doesn't get a chance to finish, because suddenly there are voices in the hall. She quickly wipes at her eyes and picks up her bookbag and leaves the room, he guesses before anyone can see them together. He doesn't really blame her. She might be a theater nerd, but at least she isn't a loser burnout like him.

He gives her a head start – a long one - but he makes sure he shows up for the start of rehearsal on time.

...

On opening night, she's glowing.

In her pretty dress with her hair down, she looks like she's just stepped out of some sort of fairytale, which he figures is appropriate. Everyone looks good, he tries to reason. They did a good job with the wardrobe and makeup. Except Joffrey. He still looks like a weaselly little shit.

The play goes perfectly.

He wasn't joking when he told Sansa he'd get it right from now on. He always could, he was just being... petty, his mind whispers, even though he tries to ignore it.

At the end, he watches her bow to the audience and he wishes he could've seen it from their perspective, he wishes he could get the full force of her smile. He only gets pieces of it, as she turns to look at her fellow actors lined up on the stage next to her, wide and toothy, eyes shining.

He waits until they're all off the stage, then shuts down the spotlights, and he waits for the theater to empty before turning off the lights completely.

He grabs his bag and slips out, past all the theater kids standing in the halls with their parents, through the noise and bustle and excitement. They're all going to Denny's after, but Jon isn't. He wasn't really invited, except for the time a few of the girls cornered him after rehearsal and told him about it. He'd declined, and hadn't been asked again.

It's not really his scene, anyway.

As he's headed to his truck, he hears a voice call his name, and he halts in his tracks.

“Aren't you coming to Denny's?” Sansa's standing in the parking lot behind him, a bouquet of cheap grocery store flowers clutched in her hands.

“Uh,” he says, dragging his eyes from the flowers up to her face. “I'm not-”

“We're all going,” she cuts him off, though this time she doesn't seem mad at him. “They've got good pancakes.”

“Oh,” he stutters, like an idiot. “I don't think anyone wants me-”

“Sometimes they give us free fries, if Nan is working.”

“Guess some food would be nice,” he says slowly, and he watches her nod, as if that's exactly what she wanted.

He heads back towards the school, feeling like this is all some sort of prank, and she falls into step next to him.

“Aren't these pretty?” she asks, holding up the flowers.

“They look sorta cheap,” he shrugs, staring straight ahead, refusing to look at them again. “I'm sure you got a million flowers.”

He knows she did. He saw them when he snuck into her dressing room earlier and set that cheap bouquet among them.

“Doesn't say who gave them,” she hums, twisting the flowers around in her hand, as if that will magically make a card appear. “Margie says a secret admirer.”

Jon's face feels hot, and he shrugs again.

“Do you think you'll do the spring musical?” she asks.

“Oh, I don't know. I was only doing this becauase-” he can't finish the sentence, though he knows it's no secret he'd been suspended originally.

“I should give these to my parents, they're taking the rest home,” she says, when he doesn't keep talking. “Wait for me?”

“Yeah, okay,” he pauses, and watches her run back out into the parking lot, towards people loading flowers into a minivan. Her family – he recognizes Robb, who graduated last year, and Arya, a few years below them.

When she runs back to him, she's got one of his flowers tucked into her hair, and it makes his stomach flip.

“Let's go,” she says, then gives him one of those megawatt smiles, and he knows that he'll sign up for the spring musical.

#jonsa #jonsa fic #prompt fic #wait my note might be a lie #elementary school plays were mandatory #i was always in the choir #one time i was a frog i think #it was awful

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sarah-aliterarylife · 1 year

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Books I Couldn't Finish

As you may recall from one of my previous posts, it takes a lot for me to break up with a book.

In fact, there are few things I dislike more than admitting to myself things just aren’t working out.

It doesn’t happen often, but admittedly post-2020 I have become slightly more discerning in terms of doing things that make me happy, and not continuing with things that don’t. Life is simply too short.

So with some regret, here is a short list of books I couldn’t finish.

Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

Over the last few months, I have been working my way through all 100 books recommended by Oprah Winfrey as part of her Book Club. This book is (so far!) the only one I could not bring myself to finish.

Set in 1956, it takes the form of a letter from the elderly Reverend John Ames to his young son. In the letter, the reverend reflects on his life, his Christian faith, spirituality, community, love, death and loneliness. The book is largely a religious text (or at least that’s how it seemed to me) and the plot is minimal.

Gilead started off well, but I soon found that every few pages my mind would begin drifting onto other subjects such as work, my to-do list or what to make for dinner. Sometimes, within a few minutes I drifted off to sleep. That is not a good thing at 3pm in the afternoon! Ultimately, after 110 pages, I’d got the gist.

Shortly afterwards, I was slightly horrified to find that the book was part of a series, and four were recommended by Oprah as part of her reading list! Sorry Oprah, I don’t think I’ll be revisiting Gilead any time soon.

2. Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut

This book is a semi-autobiographical account of the Dresden fire bombing by British and American air forces in 1945. That’s the first I’ve heard of it.

I don’t remember where I was or what I was doing when I read Slaughterhouse 5. What I do remember is that somewhere around page 30, I realised that I had no idea what was going on or what the book was about.

I put it down and have never looked at it since!

3. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

In fairness, this one started off well – I took it with me on a work trip to Stavanger in 2018, and devoured the first few chapters quickly. But there was no movement in the plot and I quickly realised that each evening, the same events were going to happen. Settling down each night in my hotel room, I would have no idea in what order events were taking place, I would wonder if I’d missed something important, and the main character would begin to irritate me after about 10 minutes.

I persevered until about halfway through, before I couldn’t take it anymore and found something else to read instead.

4. Moby Dick by Herman Melville

I tried. I really did.

I read this at the close of 2019, at the beginning of a long period of illness. At the time, I wasn’t sleeping or eating very well, and my mind was heavy with worries. I tried my best to focus my mind on the exciting tale of Captain Ahab and his quest to kill the whale, Moby Dick, but I just couldn’t do it. There was simply no room in my brain for such a complex and intricate novel. Of course, I didn’t realise this at the time, and I became angry with myself for failing to grasp the language or the plot.

Perhaps now that my brain is back to full capacity, I will revisit Moby Dick and give it another go.

5. Every text on the Medieval Literature module of Newcastle University’s BA English Literature course

Yes, you read that correctly.

I have never struggled with so many books as I did on the unfortunate occasion I chose to study Medieval Literature at university. Reading them back to back was an absolutely Herculean task. I struggled with the intricacy of the language, the themes, the plots, and even the online study notes were not helpful.

In my defence, at the time I was also working nearly 30 hours per week, struggling to support myself and in an unhappy relationship that I didn’t know how to end. Unfortunately, I didn’t have space in my brain to also decipher The Canterbury Tales, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and Morte D’Arthur. I still have no idea how I managed to pass the module!

What are some books you couldn’t finish?

#book blogs #books and literature #books and reading #literature #unfinishedbooks

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greatandquestionablecontent · 7 months

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Haze

A little scribble about dissociation, set in Coaptation, the Conviction sequel, after Trystan gets out of prison and he and Gavin have lived together for a bit. Not sure if it'll be canon exactly, but here you go!

There’s an odd sort of horror to realizing you can do genuinely whatever you want. There’s nothing forcing you to get up in the morning, or eat meals on time. There’s nothing stopping you from quitting your job, breaking up with your boyfriend, ruining everything you’ve worked for. One day it could just hit you, and you don’t bother to eat lunch or do the dishes or clean the litter box, and you walk through the day in a haze, sure you should do something, you have to keep trying to do something, so you go downtown and wander through the streets and nothing feels real, which isn’t that odd, for you, but you’re supposed to be past that now. It took Trystan many long hours to wrap his mind around this, after days of floating in and out of a haze. Gavin was out of town for a school conference, and Trystan went home halfway through the second work day, and called in sick for the rest of them. He wasn’t sure if he was actually sick or not, at first, but with no other symptoms, eventually he had to admit this was all in his head. It wouldn’t have mattered. Back in the day, he’d have just wandered absently until it wore off, and he “woke up” hungry and irritable that he hadn’t done a better job of arranging for his body to be fed. But Gavin had a stockpile of groceries, so Trystan ate every so often, in the halfhearted hope that it would make him click back into place. There was something about knowing he could do this forever that was horrifying in the way people tell ghost stories about, except he wasn’t scared, even if he should have been. When his boss called and said if he didn’t come in tomorrow, he was fired, he said okay, and promised to be in. And then when the morning came, he got dressed to go to work, sat on the porch for a moment to watch the sun rise, and the sun rose, and the clock kept moving forward and he waited for himself to go to work, but it didn’t happen, and then it was too late and he supposed he didn’t have a job anymore, so he went for a long walk to nowhere.

Gavin was alarmed when he got back. That was a bit of a relief, actually. Someone ought to be, Trystan thought, and he sure wasn’t managing it himself. “I thought… I thought you liked this job?” “I did.” “Well, if you were that sick, and they fired you because of it, that should be a labor rights violation. I know you’re a subcontractor so you don’t get labor rights but —” “I just didn’t show up. I wasn’t sick, I just didn’t show up.” A few more words of Gavin’s labor rights rant dribbled out, like a faucet that hadn’t yet registered it had been turned off, then he trailed off. “Why?” he implored. And part of Trystan was glad for that. Someone else might have afforded him too much sympathy, or gone off about his irresponsibility. Gavin got to the part that mattered: why? “I’m not sure,” Trystan said. “That’s — hm. Alright.” The sink was more full of dishes than ever, the litter box stank. Cat hopped up on Gavin’s lap and meowed plaintively. “Maybe you’re depressed,” Gavin said, scritching under her chin. “I was fine last week.” “Did you… I don’t know… Have some kind of crisis about me being gone?” “Not really. I didn’t miss you,” Trystan said, and a tiny part of him wondered where this was going, what if his train just kept on running off its track, and the next thing he knew he’d called it quits on Gavin, too, in favor of wandering off into the streets? “I didn’t feel much of anything,” he made himself add. “That sounds like depression,” Gavin remarked, his brows creasing into an increasingly deep frown. “It’s not the same. I just check out sometimes. You know that. I just check out, and then sometimes I can’t check back in.” “You should really see someone about that.” “I was doing fine. I’ve just been a bit out of it for a couple days. It’s not serious.” “Okay, but most people don’t ‘get a bit out of it’ and impulsively quit their job without knowing why. For that matter, most people don’t ‘get a bit out of it’ and wander the countryside for weeks at a time. You know that, right? Right?” “I guess,” Trystan said. He forced a laugh. “Did you eat anything besides canned peaches this whole week? Please tell me you had something else, too. This is a lot of cans.” “I did. See, there’s dishes.” “And you’ve been feeding Cat, too, right? Honestly?” “Yeah.” “Okay.” Gavin heaved a deep sigh, and took Trystan’s hands in his, meeting his eyes in earnest. “Tomorrow, we’ll go to the library and get a list of people you can go see. It doesn’t have to be someone in a hospital, it can just be someone you talk to that isn’t me.” “I don’t need to talk about anything,” Trystan muttered. “I feel fine. I don’t have anything to say.” “Yeah, well, our household income says otherwise.” “I’m sorry.” “It’s fine.” More sighing. “We’ll get by. You’re not an expensive housemate. But you’ve got fucking issues, you know you’ve got issues, even if it’s not whatever this is. And if you’re not working, you’ll have plenty of time to go talk about your feelings for a bit. It’s not as bad as you think.” Trystan shook his head, but all his usual arguments failed to hold enough weight for him to even bother saying them. The fact of the matter was, he couldn’t be bothered to fight Gavin on not going to therapy any more than he could have been bothered to go to work. So he found himself agreeing to it, and supposed there were worse outcomes.

#trystan #gavin #coaptation #my writing #gavin talks like someone whos been to therapy and read diagnostic criteria because he has

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vampire7595 · 7 months

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Saw a post on Reddit asking how long love lasts. It won't let me comment but I want to share my thoughts...

How long does love last?

For me it lasted 6 years. It was a whirlwind from the start. I will finally be divorced at the end of the year and it's both happy and sad. We got together in the spring of 2015; my mental health was horrible, I was living under the control of my toxic family and I hated my life. We were long distance at first living hundreds of miles apart in different states. I was 19. We talked every day and we're best friends before he asked me to be his girlfriend. To me he was everything, my first real relationship, my first love, first kiss, the person who took my virginity. We got engaged after a month together and I moved in with him and his family around Christmas that year. Left the only state I ever lived in and where almost all of my family was. My mom passed away shortly after I moved. I was destroyed. He helped me get through it and we got married in fall of 2016, I was 21 years old. In 2018 I got pregnant, we were over the moon and that following year we had a baby girl. My pregnancy was hard. My depression got really bad while pregnant and I started to have anxiety. We argued more and more. 2020 my dad died, and about a month later the word divorce was said for the first time. We recovered and later in 2020 I was pregnant again.

At this point we were always fighting. About parenting, money, things we buy, just anything. I was angry because of my depression and so irritable. We would have full on screaming matches. He didn't seem as excited when I told him I was pregnant with our 2nd child. I had found some things on his computer that were odd to me and he would take my phone while I was sleeping and check my messages. He flirted with other people, and I complained about him to one of my female friends. Still it caught me off guard when he asked for a divorce when I was not even halfway through the pregnancy. A few weeks later he moved out while our daughter and I stayed with his family. I was destroyed emotionally. I was barely holding it together for my daughter and would get so stressed and sad that I spent weeks expecting to have a miscarriage. I cried myself to sleep every single night for over a month straight, I was a shell of my former self.

About a month later he reached out claiming to want to fix things and come home. He did. We were intimate again multiple times and I felt like my life was getting back on track... it lasted about 5 days. He said he couldn't do it. I was devastated, felt betrayed and was mad at myself for being so weak to just fall back into his arms so easily. We slept in separate rooms and barely spoke. When our son was born I thought the love would surge back, it didn't.

Thinking about dating made me feel sick. My sense of who I am and my little self confidence was shattered, "Maybe if I was thinner he would've stayed", "I lost my one chance to have someone love me" and "I wish I could disappear" were thoughts in my head daily. He got a girlfriend that Christmas, I put up a front of being ok but still cried myself to sleep when I would sit and think about my life. 2022 he moved out early in the year, I got a cat to try and heal and I was on all the dating apps. In the fall my ex and I moved into a house together with his girlfriend and our kids.

This whole thing turned me from a hopeless romantic to a cynical person. I hate the idea of love, I will never be married again and any time I try to date I lose interest. Yet, I cry at the idea of dying alone, being lonely, I miss feeling loved. I am in this weird limbo. I feel stuck, I am a completely changed person now. I am a pessimist, I lost most of my sex drive, and I am still a little depressed with bad anxiety. No one will want to date me so there's no sense in even trying.

Love destroyed me as a person and I can't get that deep into depression again, it scared me. In 10 years I went from someone who loved the idea of love, had a strong bond with my mom and had hope for the future; to a single mom of 2, with no living parents, no dating life and barely any friends that I still talk to regularly.

#venting #how long does love last #love #relationships

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moodywyrm · 9 months

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i don’t even know 😭 we’re like third cousins or smth because i’ve talked to them a total of 4 times over the years and they’re so.. weird ..

likeee i understand but why :( i would go to the library but they’re always gone :(

pretty!!! i would use the bright red just because it’s more realistic, but !! the burgundy goes a lot better with the colors you already have

he’s getting so big!! he’s already grown out of his bed and his lil window ledge thingy 😭

that’s good but omg :( overstimulation is the worst i hope you feel better soon <3 and hiccups are so >:((( especially when you’re overstimulated i just get so angry!!! like go away!!

my day has been good so far ! i haven’t had much work to do since i’m leaving on wednesday, so i’ve been triple checking we have everything before we leave </3 and i’m about to eat and hopefully finish circe so i can start one last stop!! i want to take priory but i’ve been waiting for weeks to get one last stop and i finally got it yesterday 😭 and i’m going to do some last minute shopping bc one of my gfs friends will be staying over to cat sit binx and i want to make sure she has everything she needs :)

- 🩷

that's so weird wtf?? what kinda aunt just casually thinks yeah I'll set my niece up with her Cousin. odd. odd behavior.

unfortunately :( books are getting more expensive too, paperbacks use to be like $8-10 and now they're like $10-13 :( I don't have the Funds for this :( and then the holds for the library are always super long!!

that was my dilemma too, but I asked my sister since it's gonna be hers and she said both!! so I've already finished the bright red and green leaves, and now im working on the yellow ones!! and then I think im gonna do burgundy and then orange? assembly has to wait until everything's done and I get the correct needles :(

big boy!!! he's a Maine coon right? he's gonna be so big!! omg speaking of hammocks, one of my best friends has a disabled cat and I kinda wanna make him a little hammock?? im gonna talk to my friend about it first of course, but I am thinking abt it

overstimulation is awful!! it's been hitting me more often now and im so irritated bc I dont know why!!

leaving today!! (today right?) that's so exciting!! omg real, I love priory and im about halfway through but she's Dense. and I Love one last stop!! I love Casey mcquistons books in general, but one last stop just holds a special place in my heart <3 you're gonna love it!! last minute shopping!! the little man is gonna do so well and he's gonna be so happy when yall are back <3

#moodythoughts #🩷 anon

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angelinatoybox · 10 months

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tired

i’ve been moving my stuff around all day and i only ate one real meal today which isn’t good bc i am normally used to eating three meals a day :( (i’m ok now though i had dinner at least- so i won’t go to bed hungry)

but anyways! i have a story for you all today.

warning: the following story is very trifling (not me, the person i am about to talk about)(also grammar and possibly spelling may be off, sorry i was ranting)

(also for this to not be confusing, i will simply refer to the subjects as aunt 1 and aunt 2 respectively)

7/7/23

so, i have been staying at my aunt’s house until i am able to get my own place due to circumstances i won’t talk about in this post (maybe later). i have a storage unit, but because it is summer and the heat is unbearable i can’t put everything in storage- like liquids, electronics- because it’ll get messed up. so most of my things are at aunt 1′s house. only problem with aunt 1, is that she has a history of being touchy with other ppl’s things. for example, there was a time where she stayed with me and my mom and i have the strawberry poundcake set from bath and body works (and i’m talking from the body care stuff, to the lip scrub, to the candles i have EVERYTHING from that set), and everytime she got out the shower, she came out smelling like me even though me and my mom gave her some soap to use. i wouldn’t mind if she was courteous and asked me before using my stuff, because that stuff ain’t cheap; but she didn’t which only irritated me. but onto the main point, i had a storage crate at her house with my some of my things: my skincare stuff, lotions, nail care stuff, some clothes, some electronics my mattress, etc. my storage crate and everything else was put into her hallway closet. on the first day i stayed the night, after i’ve settled in, i noticed she kept going into the closet; she had put her bag in there and was going back and forth to get stuff out of it. i was halfway drunk when i asked her “why is your bag in there?” (bc she has her own room with a door that stays shut all the time so no one goes in there; and i didn’t ask disrespectfully, there’s just other places you could put your things- or at least give me a new place to put my things) she said “girl this is my house”

now.... i understand but like?? and i don’t trust anyone but i let it go at the time. after that first night i did not like staying at her house due to other things that would take too long to explain. i went to aunt 2′s house which is a far better arrangement and right across the street from my job, so it was more convenient. i left my stuff at aunt 1′s house with the intent of coming back later to put the rest in storage and to take some stuff to aunt 2′s house. yesterday, i had went back to grab some more things from my crate that i needed at the other aunt’s house. before i did, aunt 1 had lied and said she was at work, only for me to show up and to see her sitting on her couch (remember that detail for later). before i went into my crate, she proceeds to tell me “i’m sorry i had went into your crate so it’s a bit messed up, i got your bar soap so i could shower”

...

for more context, her water had been shut off at her house and her and her kids that are staying with her have been showering at the neighbors house.

but- you went in my things (which you know i would have a huge fucking problem with that). you could’ve called me and asked. but you didn’t. and took my last bar of soap when i had given you soap last week despite you knowing i’m in an emergency situation right now. i had gotten more soap while at aunt 2s house anyway, but it doesn’t matter it’s the principle of thing. so, me being pissed, i said it’s ok (which it wasn’t), and started to grab the stuff i needed along with any other expensive shit i possibly had in my crate. while i’m doing that, i just thought ykw? fuck it i’m taking my whole crate with me. while digging through it though, i noticed one of my perfumes was missing. its the victoria’s secret bombshell magic perfume that was a limited edition (a christmas special) that was also a birthday gift. my birthday is in december and since then i only used 3-4 times for special ocassions mostly. point being, it was a damn near full bottle. i got back to aunt 2s house and texted aunt 1 asking wheres my perfume?? she texts back saying she saw it when she was getting my soap, sprayed some and took it with her to the neighbors house... then said she’s sorry, she barely used it and she will get it back to me as soon as she can... pissed wasn’t even the motherfucking word...

so i told her to leave the perfume in a drawer somewhere so her kids wouldn’t accidentally break it (they clumsy and careless af) and i’ll be back the following morning to get it. she said ok. i wake up and the first thing i do is text her asking her if she left it. she then says she spent the night at her boyfriends house and didn’t get to leave it... and that she has to go to work. i ask her well when are you off. she says she doesn’t know...

so i wait till about 6pm because thats when she was “off” the previous day (remember?) then i go to her house. there she is again. this time she is ignoring me and acting like she talking on the phone to somebody. mind you i only paraphrased the whole text conversation because its lengthy but just know that it was trifling af. she was starting to get annoyed at ME, like i took HER shit and not the other way around..

but moving on with the story, while she was on her super important phone call 🙄 i called my dad (who i hardly talk to) to come and help move the rest of my stuff out bc i refuse to put up with this shit. i got everything but my mattress. and while i’m making sure i got the rest of my stuff, what else do i see but my strawberry poundcake lotion in a drawer in the living room.... i’m ready to start swinging on somebody.

we get all my things in the car and the only thing left to get is my perfume. i walk upstairs and she’s still on the phone with her door closed. i’m calling her name over and over, even got her 14 year old to tell her to hurry her ass up bc i got somewhere to be (not really, just give me my shit back), and i kid you not 15 minutes go by. she finally yells back “its spilled, tell her i’ll buy her another one”

...

BITCH WTF DO YOU MEAN “It’S SPiLlEd?!?!?!?” a $70 bottle of perfume doesn’t “spill.” so i go upstairs after him and ask her what do you mean? she still on the phone. i call her name to the point where she starts yelling and snapping at me (again like i took HER shit) and she finally opens the door and gives me perfume that she says “evaporated” (it’s not even that fucking hot outside for it to “evaporate” in your bag; it should’ve never fucking been there to begin with). and on top of that she also lost the lid. she asked me how much the perfume was, i tell her it was a special limited edition perfume. you’re not going to find it anywhere else, plus it was a birthday gift. she asks me again and i tell her. and she said she’d replace it, which i know she isn’t because you already owe me money for something else, and even asked me for money yesterday despite knowing you was taking shit out of my crate. i got my bottle back and you would’ve thought someone had it for a whole fucking year. i get back in my dad’s car and he said she thinks what took her so long to open the door was that she was pouring the perfume into something else. which makes sense. my thing is, you had first said “it spilled, i’ll buy you another one” as if i was supposed to leave without the bottle. i think that was her trying to keep the bottle right then and there but bitch, i’m not stupid. give me my fucking bottle back tf. and mind you, i have been getting called bougie and sadity (is that how you spell it??) all week, but you sure af loved my bougie ass perfume tho huh?

so officially that’s the last mf time i’ll ever deal with her ass. and honestly, tho i’m not violent, i really want to beat her ass. you went through my shit, you took my shit, ALL without permission, gave me the run around, used up my shit, and got mad at me like i did something to you...

i hate that i’m not eloquent enough to type out how mad i really am about this whole bs ordeal. made no type of mf sense.

i’m trying to look from a positive side, that at least i got the rest of my shit out of there and now the onyl thing i have to worry about is my mattress- which i will be getting possibly on monday due to good neighbors of the previous place i used to stay at,

the lesson of the day y’all: don’t trust just anoyone. not even your own family. (even tho i didn’t trust her to begin with, but i know that advice is for somebody out there)

goodnight 💋

#❣️ i speak

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