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@awfullycorrupted-blog
Send "Stay with me tonight." for my muse to spend a night with yours.
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Could you please reblog this if it is okay to ask you straight up if you want to ship?
hey sorry for not being active. Kind of difficult to keep this page going with little activity, feel free to message me if you want to start a thread , or just start one and message me đ
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âHow did you get in here? Youâre not supposed to be in here.â Harveyâs eyes frantically darted around the place. Did he forget to lock the door? The window? Was it the motel owner who gave them access? Did they take anything? His brain ran a mile a minute with paranoid thoughts, before his eyes landed on the intruder. Then his face contorted into an angry snarl.
âYou need to leave. Now!â Harvey yelled as he pulled out a switchblade from his pocket, opening it in a swift movement and pointing the sharp blade at the other in a threatening manner.
Fiona had a handful of small items in her hands, she wasn't sure when or how she was going to get value for these things that ranged from jewerly to shoes. She heard the door creek open, âFuck!â she quietly whispered, Fiona dropped the items in a panic, jumping from different spots of the bedroom. There was absolutely no way she was able to get out of this. Normally, she was smarter than this, found small jobs, or had her brothers figure it out for her. But she needed quick cash. She froze as the door opened, her face dropping to the ground as if she was a child who had just gotten in trouble. â--I, I.â a pause, âDonât call the cops!â Fionaâs face quickly rising as she seeâs the weapon, âWhat the fuck dude!?â No longer fearful, âDo you know where the fuck you are? This-- this shit happens all the time, drop the shit and Iâll walk out!â what did you get yourself into, Fiona?
â â possible connections: ex-boyfriend/girlfriend or ex-fwb who is in a relationship, and/or jock/cheerleader that romeo didnât get along with in high school
âlook, youâre the one who kissed me.â romeo snapped as he kept his eyes fixated on the arcade game screen. âgo ahead and act like it was because you were drunk or just straight up blame it on me, but you and I both know it was all you.â he pointed out in a somewhat condescending tone. his thin finger pressed at the red button rapidly before he groaned, seeing âgame overâ flash across the screen. âdamn it.â he muttered to himself before finally turning to look at the other. âitâs kind of ironic, donât you think? you coming on to me?â romeoâs lips curved into a shit-eating smirk. âpretty hilarious, actually.â
Fiona watched him as he played his the game. Her mouth opened- he knew what she was going to say, she was in fact going to come up with some kind of excuse, but he knew her far too well. He had become pretty good friends with her brother, Lip. Lets be honest here, she couldnât stand him, and something had just come over her the night before. She imagined the frustrating fight that would soon come if her brother had found out. Her mouth quickly closing, hands on her hips as she tries to come up with something. Her hands quickly fall to her sides as he faces her, âI-- shut up.â a pause, âIt was really nothing,Youâre not fuckinâ special.â

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@variousmethodsofescaape
awfullycorruptedâ:
Fiona has been to six meetings this week, and five the week before sheâs been messing up far too much. Her legs are crossed, her hands holding eachother, and her face is pointed down. .Fionaâs hair is a mess, and itâs been pretty obvious she hasnât been sleeping, dark bags lay under her eyes. The voice of whoever is standing in front of the crowd is almost tuned out. She canât seem to focus on their sob story. She feels ashamed, and pretty much weak. Fiona canât find the courage to stop the drinking, but sheâs frightened to bring it up to anyone. Rum even sits at the bottom of her coffee cup that sits beside her leg. Everyone, including her friends and family think sheâs doing well- and has beat her addiction. In the short amount of time of admitting she has become an addict, she has shown quite a bit of progression but of course, that progress quickly faded. Fiona inhales with frustration, bending down to reach for her coffee. She sees a man in directly across the room from her staring, that man quickly turns away. Fiona rolls her eyes, and grabs the cup and begins to chug it. The hazelnut creamer seems to suffocate the flavor of the rum and it nearly does taste like coffee, she looks back on the man as she sets the cup down back by her leg. A form of concern and anger is plastered across her faces. Did he see her slip some liquor into her coffee cup in the parking lot? is he going to tell?Â
Yeah, heâs like 100% certain that woman with the comically large coffee cup is getting drunk right now. Not that Aleisterâs casting judgment. If thereâs anything that would drive a person to drinking, these vaguely cultish, depressing ass meetings sure do the trick. Seems a little counterproductive, that. Itâs not a wonder anyone attending these things canât keep their shit together.
Ah, shit, sheâs caught him looking again. Aleister glances away, forcing himself to focus on the person sharing at the front of the room. He isnât really listening. Itâs always more or less the same version of events, just a different meat popsicle spewing the misery. He realizes he needs to have a better attitude, but this Narcotics Anonymous/Alcoholic Anonymous/Insert Addiction Here Anonymous model doesnât at all suit him. Without even taking into account that the whole âhigher powerâ stuff is bullshit all the way down, heâs also opposed to the narrative of fear and helplessness these sorts of groups tend to push.
And yet, here he is. Because itâs free and because itâs better than nothing. He canât afford rehab, though he probably needs it. Heâs passed the âsucking cock for a hit of smackâ phase with, quite frankly, flying colors and is now balls deep in the overdose-y, Will Literally Die if I Donât Stop Doing Heroin phase. Or as its better known, rock bottom. Cheers.
After what seems like forever the main bits of the session are finally over, followed by time to mingle with the others and like, hug each other and shit. Aleister never sticks around for this part. He slides his fake leather jacket on and throws one last curious glance over his shoulder at the woman from earlier before slipping out the doors.
Before she knew it the cup of âcoffeeâ was gone. She didnât seem to care only because it made the entire situation and environment feel a little more entertaining. She looks at the man again, her tired- drunk eyes nearly fixating on him- or so it felt like it. The liquor had found itâs way roaming through her veins, she felt warm and less guilty of her actions. Fiona closed her eyes, the strangers voice preaching slowly fades in and out- she swears, she almost fell asleep. Fiona wasnt paying enough attention and before she could comprehend and take in her surroundings everyone began standing and walking out. Her eyes quickly glued to the man. Â Fiona stood up- she wasnât completely drunk but she had a nice buzz going on, and it may or may not have been such a good idea to jump up so quickly. As she attempts to quickly follow the man outside she was a little dizzy, and may have bumped into a few people. Being who Fiona was she didnât apologize, just casually grinned on her way out.Â
Than bam, she found her way directly by the manâs side before he could realize her presence she spoke up. The chicago air hitting one another rather hard, seeing her breath as the words fall out, brushing her hair off her shoulder as the wind brushes by. âHey, whatâs your problem?â Fiona spit out, âYou a junkie, pill popper or a drunk?â A grin quickly forms on her face, âor did you get the golden ticket and are all three?â Is she trying to make herself feel better? Is she trying to pretend she just didnât get drunk in an AA meeting, sure seems like it.
@variousmethodsofescaape
Fiona has been to six meetings this week, and five the week before she's been messing up far too much. Her legs are crossed, her hands holding eachother, and her face is pointed down. .Fionaâs hair is a mess, and itâs been pretty obvious she hasnât been sleeping, dark bags lay under her eyes. The voice of whoever is standing in front of the crowd is almost tuned out. She canât seem to focus on their sob story. She feels ashamed, and pretty much weak. Fiona canât find the courage to stop the drinking, but sheâs frightened to bring it up to anyone. Rum even sits at the bottom of her coffee cup that sits beside her leg. Everyone, including her friends and family think sheâs doing well- and has beat her addiction. In the short amount of time of admitting she has become an addict, she has shown quite a bit of progression but of course, that progress quickly faded. Fiona inhales with frustration, bending down to reach for her coffee. She sees a man in directly across the room from her staring, that man quickly turns away. Fiona rolls her eyes, and grabs the cup and begins to chug it. The hazelnut creamer seems to suffocate the flavor of the rum and it nearly does taste like coffee, she looks back on the man as she sets the cup down back by her leg. A form of concern and anger is plastered across her faces. Did he see her slip some liquor into her coffee cup in the parking lot? is he going to tell?Â
@flawedheroines
Elsie had gotten herself in a bit of trouble. When she was booted from her orphanage, she started living on the streets. For a bit, she did have a job at a small cafe downtown. When the shop went out of business, she was back begging for money. Everything that happened to her made her more resentful each day. It all started when her mother left her at the hospital the day she was born. Elsie was told that her mother simply gave her back and was gone when they came to check on her. The workers at the orphanage often talked down to her and said things they would never be able to get away with if the inspectors who came actually did their jobs.Â
Elsie was sleeping in the park, it had been a warm day out for once. She had been told a few times not to do that, but what was she supposed to do? She was a young woman who should not have been out on her own yet. A cop was called and she was forced to leave. The cops had been keeping track of her âcrimesâ and when she stole some food from a store, they booked her. Due to the misdemeanors against her, they had her serve some jail time. The judge wasnât too hard on her, only gave her 2 months and probation.
When she got out of the prison, she was brought to some diner. She tried to follow what the woman was saying, feeling out of place there.
âUh, I guessâŚâ She nodded, taking the apron.
As busy as Fiona was in that moment, keeping track of the customers orders, how the staff was acting, and speaking to Elsie. She was paying quite a bit of attention to the young girl. She of course, didnât look like she belonged her but Fionaâs job was to treat all of the coworkers and staff equally. Fiona was once in her place, being overwhelmed with orders, change of scenary, and a different type of people in her environment it had shaped her into a better person. She looks at the girl, an eyebrow raises. âWell, put it on.â Fiona spit out, ushering the girl to follower her to the back of the the diner, and into her closet-like office, barely able to fit her and her computer, she motions the girl to stand at the doorway. âNow tell me about yourself,â she points her finger to Elsieâs general area, a coworker stands speaking to a customer a few feet behind her, âThis is an honesty, and safe zone.â Fiona says, âHe had sold drugs, fucked up, served his time and heâs here. When I first met him he didnât have custody of his children or a place to live, Now he has a three bedroom apartment, and visitation. Heâs getting there.â A pause, long enough to nearly suffocate the two. âYouâre younger than most of these people, and you were a fuckinâ dumbass, and you need to own that shit and move on.â Kind of contridicting yourself, arent you, Fi?
@flawedheroines
Fiona smacks her hands gently together after she hands a customer their meal, âEnjoy,â Her hands lay on her hips as her diner door swings open, her old probation officer Mike walks in with yet another hopefully responsbility and willing person. Thatâs how it was around here, the diner was a constant revolving door, several probation officers walking in trying to help others to change their lives after going through a rough patch. A grin appears on Fionaâs face, walking over to Mike and the stranger, she sets her hand out. âMy names Fiona,â Sheâll say, the idea that she would be the one to be saying these words, and not receiving them never seemed to cross her mind until this moment. She motions the stranger to the bar counter, âI want to help you change your life around, I was once in your position, Iâve felt what you are feeling now. I understand what you are dealing with. But this is something I expect from you. Complete honesty,â she pauses, ushering a coworker to help a customer, than quickly turning her attention back to the stranger, âYou fuck up. You tell me. You lie to me, youâre dealing with me. Got it?â Her face stern as the words fall from her mouth. her eyebrows smashed together but quickly relaxing, and a grin smacks across her face yet again. She walks behind the counter and tosses an apron toward the girl.Â
âWhich one are you again? The hippie or the idiot ho thinks fire isnât flammable?â He shrugs while he had a cigarette in the side of his mouth and a bottle of scotch in the other. Sure heâs met some weird people in his lifetime but this person took the cake.
"I'm fuckin neither," a wide grin and a small chuckle slips through her teeth. Guess he didnât enjoy your drunk rambling, Fi. She clenches her teeth nervously, âWhich one are you?â she takes a swig of her drink, looks to the person beside her, âprobably an asshole,â

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open starter - anyone
Otter wasnât exactly good at finding his way around places. He had lived in this city for over a year now, and he still found himself getting impossibly lost. It was happening less and less in the daytime, but at night, every street looked the damn same. Running a hand through his hair, making it even messier than it already, he let out a long sigh. Okay, he thought, okay. This isnât a big deal, all you need to do is find that odd little chinese resturant and youâre basically home.
That wasnt exactly true. From the Chinese resturant, it was a twenty five minute walk to the train station and then from there, it was a train. But in his determination to find his way home, off his own back, Otter pushed this thought out of his head.
He let his feet lead him down unfamiliar streets as the heavens opened over him. The rain came out of nowhere and the streets cleared, until soon it was just him left alone. Well, almost alone.
âUh, excuse me?â He called out, waving his arms above his head, trying to get their attention. âWould you mind giving me a head? I am ⌠very lost.â
Fiona had just gotten off of work- still wearing her waitress outfit and apron, a cigarette laid between her lips, her body being barely sheltered but just enough by the top balcony of a restaraunt that was only a few buildings down from her diner. It was a long day today, customers not being satisified with their meals, had a cook and a dishwasher quitting the same day. She was exhausted, her body hurt, her facial expression clearly showing the exhaustion that soaked through her bones. And better yet, a random wanted to approach her. She takes a drag of her cigarette- the smoke vanishing almost immedatialy due to the harsh drops of rain. Fiona rolls her eyes, and turning her head to face the stranger. âOkay?â An irritated smirk quickly presses against her face, âWhere are you going? Youâre in a shitty town in Chicago,â She glances around her surroundings, âYou clearly donât belong in this area, the mid and high class is about fourty minutes from here, walk all the way down, turn left until you see the bus stop. Take it, should take you in your general area. Might want to hurry, itâs the last stop of the day.â
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Fiona's knees are uncomfortably pressed against the bar but she doesnât seem to mind it. Sheâs laughing and grinning, the smell of liquor seeps from her pours, mouth and hair. and her laugh nearly suffocates the small bar even if it is crowded. The random people who sit next to her are cheering her on to take another shot, and another. Her voice slurring, barely able to spit out words, âYou fuckinâ take one!â A laugh erupts as she nudges the stranger beside her, she shoves a shot that was previously placed in front of her down her throat, than quickly shoving the lime in her mouth recklessly. Itâs pretty obvious how drunk she is. This setting and environment makes her feel like less of a drunk and less like her father. she twirls around in her seat before shouting almost annoyingly, âWho wants to take a shot!?âÂ
Open
A cigarette laid between Fiona's fingers- agitation lingered through her entire body, and facial expression. She had almost gotten herself out of the Gallagher category, she almost made herself something. But of course, she had failed. Her eyebrows smashed together for a split second before relaxing as she places the cigarette to her lips. A sigh slips through her mouth, her free hand brushing through her hair. Fiona never pictured herself waiting for the liquor store to open, the Chicago breeze smashing against her exposed sleeveless arms. Feeling the cold made the craving not so bad. As she seeâs someone approach her general area she flicks her cigarette, âShitty morning too?â She spits out to the stranger, a wide grin on her face.Â
anyone wanna rp? just switched my account to an rp account. my character description is on my account, will update it later tonight or tomorrow morning.Â
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