lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

I really love your writing?? And you write Cartman so well!! Keep up the good work

AWWWWWWWWWWW Thank you so much!!! It means the world to me to hear thing like this! 

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

A Bastard Grandchild Isn't Good For the Coffee Business, Tweek: Chapter 7

Read on Ao3

It wasn’t anything personal, though Cartman did enjoy the opportunity to stick it to that asshole, Craig. Getting to see that dickwad lose his cool would be a welcome bonus, but it was not the main goal here. No, no, no, those assholes just managed to fuck up at just the right time to suit his needs. Fanning the flames of their scandal would buy him time.

Keeping everyone focused on the power couple and their gross lovechild would allow him the opportunity to set someone else up to believably take the fall once the news about Kyle’s condition, Cartman rolled his eyes at the thought, got out. Probably Stan or Kenny; people would probably believe that Kyle had fucked either of them, or, if he really wanted to play up the redheaded Jew being an absolute whore, even spread it around that the omega had slept with both of them, muddy the waters a little.

Cartman popped a cookie in his mouth, thinking as he chewed. He’d already texted the Asian girls about their ‘OTP’ or whatever. His phone was still constantly chirping from their weird-ass text emoji reactions and giddy speculations about whether or not this would push Craig into finally proposing. Eric snorted at that. The poor sap probably was too stupid to figure out that his bitch had him right where he wanted him. Omegas were smart in that way. They knew how to make an alpha play right into their hands, using their stupid heat pheromones to push unwitting alphas into rut and then tie them down for life. It was a brilliant con, in his opinion; a con that he himself had fallen for.

What was he supposed to do when Kyle had shown up on his doorstep, drunk and upset? Turn him away? When Kyle looked at him so pathetically with those green eyes, how was he supposed to say no? How could Eric have pushed him away when he practically begged for him to make him forget all about his clueless best friend, when Kyle pressed himself so close that he could have counted every hair of his eyelashes had he wanted to? His breath reeked of booze and when Cartman was forcefully pulled into a kiss, he stopped caring about what was right or wrong. All that had mattered was the heat of the body against him, the deliriously addictive scent that poured off of Kyle, and the sudden pressing need to claim the omega in front of him.

It wasn’t his fault that Jew greedily begged for his knot, over and over again. Who was he to deny him that? Who was he to deny himself something he’d fantasized about for years? Sure, it hadn’t been the way he thought he’d finally get to fuck Kyle, but it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. After all, how many chances would he get to watch the redhead come completely undone beneath him, cursing and pleading, whimpering about how he never wanted Eric to stop? He wouldn’t forgive himself if he had let it just slip right out of his fingers.

But that’s where it should have ended. Yet four weeks later, Kyle ambushed him outside of his house, full of indignant fury and malcontent. He ranted and raved until Cartman had cut him off with a blunt “What’s your point? It’s not a big deal, just get rid of it.” It wasn’t his fault that Kyle had pussied out and kept it. He had washed his hands clean of this.

It wasn’t like kids really needed a dad either. He grew up just fine without one, and he was sure the little hellspawn of Kyle’s would as well.

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

A Bastard Grandchild Isn't Good For the Coffee Business, Tweek: Chapter 6

Read on Ao3

Tweek yawned, scribbling something down on an order form. They needed more pumpkin spice. They always needed more pumpkin spice, enough of it that the shop would exude it until December, and that still wouldn’t be enough. It had been in almost every drink he served since the leaves started changing, and he was already sick of hearing the phrase ‘pumpkin spice latte.’ At least the smell of the stuff didn’t make his stomach churn, unlike half of everything else behind the counter.

His mom had been the one to shoo him off to the backroom, thankfully taking pity on him after noticing how green around the gills he looked. It made him happy to be in the back, taking inventory; a chore he usually hated. It gave him too much time to think, to worry, and often left him a frazzled mess by the time he was through.

For now, though, it offered him a reprieve from retching at the smell of what used to be his liquid lifeline, and more importantly, from the prying eyes of everyone in town. Tweek could feel how people had been silently assessing him all morning like he was a specimen under a microscope, like they were waiting for him to let something slip. Judgement radiated off them, making him wonder if his little secret was somehow obvious. Oh Jesus, what if the whole town already figured it out and it’s all his fault for being too easy to read?! Tweek knew they wouldn’t be able to hide it for very long, but he thought he’d at least have time to wrap his head around it all before word got out! Hell, he still couldn’t quite understand how Craig’s folks found out so quickly, the shouting match between the Tucker family last night still a blur.

The blonde shook his head, trying to focus back on the task at hand. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could leave for the day. The door behind him opened, and he shrieked with a startled flinch. He clutched at his chest before letting out a sigh of relief when he realized it was just his mother. She smiled softly at him.

“Sweetie, I have to step out for a minute. Do you think you could handle watching the front of the house for a bit?”

“Nng, sure, Mom. N-no problem.” Tweek held back a grimace as the once comforting thick smell of coffee filled his senses the moment he left the backroom, sending a pulse of nausea through him. He swallowed it back, forcing a smile as he started taking down and prepping orders as a crowd of customers started queuing up.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the baby mama himself.”

He cringed at the loudness of it. Why was he here?! Why did he have to do this in the middle of a rush? Fuck, who told Eric fucking Cartman of all people? His life was fucking over; now, everyone would find out in the most humiliating way possible. Of course, he’d pull this shit in the one place he couldn’t fight back. He felt paralyzed, wanting to say something, anything, but his treasonous body refused to listen to him.

“What? Did getting knocked up make you deaf or something?” The larger boy’s tone was smug, gloating even, clearly enjoying the fear radiating off the omega.

Finally, Tweek was able to spit something out, “Can you, nng, not cause, cause a scene here? Y-you can rip on me all you want later.”

Cartman sighed overdramatically. “Fine, get me a large salted caramel latte with extra whip and a bag of cookies then. Just don’t forget to bring lube on Monday, cuz you are so fucked, Twitch.”

Tweek tried to get a grip on himself as he made the drink, trying to steady his trembling hands. He rushed it, wanting the alpha out of the shop as soon as possible, barely being able to breathe with his overbearing presence. Cartman snatched up his order, leaving with a loud “Good luck with the gayby, asshole.” He tried to push it all to the back of his mind; after all, his mom would be back soon, and he could retreat back to the storeroom.

Another lurch in his stomach left him reeling. Going back to doing inventory was going to have a wait a bit.

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

South Park 18+ Discord Server!

Hey there! We’ve started a new South Park server for older fans of the series! 

Feel free to stop by and pay us a visit!

https://discord.gg/ATypwnF

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

A Bastard Grandchild Isn’t Good For the Coffee Business, Tweek: Chapter 5

Read on Ao3

Mr. Mackey couldn’t help but feel guilty about this whole mess. He was their guidance counselor. He was supposed to look out for these kids, keep them safe despite all their skylarking, yet he’d failed his students. From the concerned phone call from the local pharmacy this morning that had PC Principal fuming in his office for the better half of the morning to the note from Nurse Gollum about several students possibly requiring ‘urgent guidance,’ he could already feel the pressure of a migraine building in his oversized cranium. PC Principal had found it necessary to call an emergency PTA meeting over the matter, and of course, left the preparations entirely up to his right-hand man, along with dealing with the backlash that came with everything short-notice.

He looked down at his watch with a sigh, only a few minutes until the parents would start to trickle into the small school gymnasium, demanding to know what all the fuss was about. Seeing the first set of parents arriving, he began the usual song and dance of welcoming them, assuring them that they’d be starting in around fifteen minutes. Dodging the constant questioning of why they were here, he kept on with the welcome wagon as the parents took their seats with their usual groups, the low murmur of their speculations and gossip growing with each passing minute.

Once it seemed that everyone was present, save for whatever stragglers would wander in late, the dirty blond principal grabbed the microphone, exuding his typical alpha bravado. He cleared his throat, a wave of silence washing over the parents as their eyes focused on him.

“Alright everyone, listen up. It’s great that you all could make it here on such short notice. We’ve called you all here because it has come to our attention that, despite our best efforts to promote healthy student relationships, it appears that some students still don’t understand the importance of consent forms when it comes to sexual exploration. We know it’s concerning, so to help alleviate the problem, there will be several mandatory lessons over the next month to clear up any confusion.”

Mr. Mackey pinched the bridge of his nose, the parents looking more than a little confused. “PC Principal, I believe we were supposed to be discussing the other pressing issue, mmmkay.”

“I’m getting there, bro. Alright, parents, I know this is going to be hard for you to hear, but there is another problem, mainly with our senior class. Nurse Gollum has reported requests from at least 10 students for pregnancy test kits since the beginning of the school year, and it isn’t even October.  Though most turned out negative, several of the students tested positive. Out of respect for those students’ privacy, we will not be naming any names, but we have an epidemic on our hands, people. As a partial solution, we plan on holding several safe sex seminars over the next few months, starting next week.”

Now he had the parents’ full attention. There was an eerie silence about the room for a moment, shattering once it had all sunken in, the voices of concerned and outraged parents quickly filling the gym. Some scanned the faces of the other parents, trying to see if their reactions gave anything anyway, any clue as to who these kids were. Others, mainly those with omega children, were more concerned about whether their child might be next, or worse, what if they already were?

Randy Marsh spoke up, “And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then we up our game, bro.”

Immediately after the meeting, Mrs. Tweak pulled Laura Tucker aside. She had to talk to someone about this, and who better than someone who probably already knew, who was in the same boat? Their babies were having a baby, and she honestly didn’t know what she should do or where it all went to hell.

“Have the boys told you yet?”

Laura looked at her like she’d grown a second head. She knew where this was headed, and the thought of it mortified her. She had a million questions, and they all tumbled out of her mouth at once. “Are you seriously telling me that your son is-? With Craig’s-? Are you sure?”

“I’m afraid so. They told us themselves earlier today,” Mrs. Tweak tried to answer calmly, not wanting to draw attention to their conversation. It seemed to do little good though, the mere act of breaking away from the group to talk being enough to spark suspicious rumors and whispers. She supposed it was inevitable with the town’s fascination with her son’s love life, that Tweek would be one of the first suspected in something like this.

“Oh god,” Laura groaned, as if she didn’t have enough trouble convincing the other moms that her son wasn’t a bad influence. “How long do we have before this gets out?”

“Knowing this town, I’d give it three days at most.”

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

A Bastard Grandchild Isn’t Good For the Coffee Business, Tweek: Chapter 4

Sorry for the long wait and short chapter! I had exams with a lovely dose of writer’s block.

Read on Ao3

Just as the pair had walked into the door, Craig’s parents were already on their way out, saying something about an emergency PTA meeting. A new scare swept the parents of South Park most weeks, usually stemming from the latest hijinks of Stan and his friends, each one short-lasting, yet memorable in its own way. One could only imagine what had their panties in a twist this time.

The game plan for the afternoon had been watching old reruns on their shared laptop, something simple and mind-numbing, a distraction from the thousands of new things they had to worry about. Being comfortably nestled against his boyfriend’s chest, however, made giving into the seductive spell of a well-needed nap far too easy for the blond, his eyelids far too heavy to stay open for much longer. It wasn’t often Tweek fell asleep quickly, most of his nights an endless stretch of overcaffeinated jitters and fears, but Craig’s bed always felt safe, coaxing him into relaxing as he felt his lover mutter something against the top of his head. He didn’t even notice Craig draping his jacket over his shoulders before he’d conked out.

It was only after Craig was sure that Tweek was asleep that he started filling out job applications.

“What do you mean you couldn’t go through with it, Kahl?!” Eric hissed into his phone. Goddammit, could that Jew bitch not get anything right? First, he just had to go and get himself knocked up and now he doesn’t even have the balls to get rid of it. Jesus, he made one tiny, little mistake and now Kyle expected him to pay for it for the rest of his life? Like hell he would let that asshole fuck him over like that. “So what? Stan doesn’t want your ass, so now you’re going to trap me instead? Well, it’s not gonna work. Fuck you and fuck the trash inside of you!” Kyle was going to deck him the next time he saw him, but damn if it wasn’t worth bringing the smug bitch down a peg.

“Trap you?! If anything, you’re the one who’s fucking trapping me, fatass! You’re the jackass who decided to mark me because apparently fucking me wasn’t humiliating enough!”

Cartman rolled his eyes at Kyle’s shrill bitching. “Like you weren’t so goddamn into it at the time.”

There was a sputter followed by a long pause on the other end of the line and Eric grinned smugly with a snort, knowing Kyle was probably flustered as all hell at that.

“Look, that’s not the point. It’s still your kid, so if you ever decide you wanna stop being a deadbeat and, god forbid, help, just let me know.”

“I think we both know that’s never gonna happen, Kahl.” There was a soft click on the other end, then silence. Cartman scoffed, he’d be damned before he gave in.

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Quick Question

I know the new chapter is running late and I’m working on it, I promise, but I was wondering if spending a little time in my fic on the goth kids (during future chapters of course) would interest any of you? Mainly asking because I have some interesting ideas about how they rebel against conforming to normal ABO dynamics.

Input is always appreciated

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

A Bastard Grandchild Isn’t Good For the Coffee Business, Tweek : Chapter 3

Ao3 Link

Mixing suppressants and alcohol was never a good idea. It never ended well, as many omegas before him had learned the hard way, and now Kyle Broflovski could count himself among them. He rubbed his temples, wondering if his senior year could get any worse.

Only two months ago, he had woken up naked and hungover, the town jackass, Eric Cartman, sleeping like a baby next to him. The fatass had seemingly taken advantage of him when he showed up to his house, unannounced and drunk, loudly bitching about how his best friend was planning to propose to Wendy. That bitching soon turned to crying, and the alcohol-induced glitch in his suppressants couldn’t have occurred at a worse moment, biology quickly overpowering morality. Now, he was stuck with that asshole’s kid inside him, and Cartman could fucking care less.

It was during his walk to Unplanned Parenthood for an appointment that he noticed something odd as he passed by Tweek Bros. Not only was the small coffeeshop closed in the middle of the morning, an oddity in itself, shouting could be heard from inside. It sounded like Tweek’s parents; weird, he never thought of them as the yelling type. Curious, he slowed down, seeing if he could hear a little of what was going on.

“…how could you be so irresponsible!? A baby at your age! What about the business? Do you know how long your mother and I have been building a good reputation in this town only for you to just throw it all away?!”

Kyle blinked. Well now. It seemed he wasn’t the only one in the future teen parents club. From the sound of it, Tweek’s parents were taking things as well as his folks had. He sighed before continuing onward.

Inside the tense atmosphere of the coffeeshop, Tweek was taking the harsh tongue-lashing surprisingly well, all things considered. Sure, he was trembling like a leaf and felt about two feet tall, but everything his parents were lecturing him on were things he’d already berated himself about a thousand times over. He understood it. They had every reason and every right to be upset with them. It was better that they went ahead and let it all out in the open. Though he knew it wouldn’t do much good, Tweek said the only thing that came to mind when they finally asked what he had to say for himself.

“We screwed up. I know, nng, we can’t fix what we did.” His long fingers drummed absentmindedly against the side of his coffee cup, Craig keeping a hand on his lower back. “Oh Jesus, we didn’t mean for this to happen! I know we have no right to keep it at our age, but we want to make this work.”

“We may have messed up on the order of things, but I love your son. I intend on doing whatever I can to support Tweek and our kid.” Craig assured. It wasn’t anything eloquent or long-winded, but it was sincere, sincere enough to start a calmer dialogue between them all. Sure, Tweek’s parents were disappointed in them, but at least they weren’t going to disown their son over this.

Tweek was wiping away tears with the back of his sleeve when they left, relieved he wasn’t homeless, being sold into slavery, disowned or a thousand other things he feared would have happened. Maybe, just maybe, things would work out okay for once. Well, at least if Craig’s parents took all this okay. Trying not to overwhelm Tweek, Craig didn’t intend on telling them until tomorrow, the poor blond already mentally exhausted from dealing with his own parents.

After all, it’s better to take these things one step at a time.

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

Also the fic is now also available on A03!

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12887601/chapters/29440965

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

A 25 Followers Present!!

A/N: To celebrate the blog hitting 25 followers, I wrote you all up a little treat. It’s sort of a prequel to A Bastard Grandchild, centering on the heat that got our boys into this mess. NSFW, though I’m not the best at smut. All characters are over the age of consent

Oh Jesus, why did buttons have to be so hard to undo?! Tweek’s fingers shook, having difficulty even grasping the small disks that held his sweat-drenched shirt together, let alone maneuvering them through the impossibly small slits in the cloth. He shuddered with a frustrated whine, his bangs sticking to his damp forehead. He forced the tight button-up over his head, flinging the troublesome garment away. His jeans had already been kicked off and had landed somewhere among the clutter of the young omega’s dark bedroom.

His blood boiled in his veins as his hips rocked against the mattress; the cumbersome fabric of his clothes seemingly making it worse. The blonde wanted to stumble into the shower, to at least attempt to cool off and wash away the slick already drying along the back of his thighs, making his boxers stick uncomfortably to his skin. A part of him knew it wouldn’t do any good; it never did. Relief only came through rough kisses and strong hands, through bites that would leave marks and with deliciously addictive friction.

Tweek peeked out of his curtains, eyes frantically scanning the dark street for any signs of movement. Where was he?! The walk from Craig’s house to here wasn’t that far; it shouldn’t be taking him this long. What if something happened to him on his way here?! He looked down at his phone; it had been over half an hour since his boyfriend had texted him, promising that he’d be over as soon as possible.

Thankfully, Tweek’s parents were away for the week, off to some huge coffee convention in Denver, freeing Tweek from the mortifying thought of either of them walking in on him like this. He knew they resented his nature, that they had been ashamed when he presented late, shattering any hopes that he might have been just a normal beta. He didn’t blame them, the same shame washing over him with every pulse of slick, with every involuntary groan. The sooner Craig came to quench his heat, the better. God, it was like he was going crazy. If he didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn he smelled the unmistakable aroma of his alpha, earthy with subtle tones of pumpkin spice. A shriek escaped him as Tweek felt hands on his chest, pulling him backwards.

“Jesus, babe.” Craig’s voice was low, his breath fanning against Tweek’s neck. The blond twisted in his grip, trying to face him, impatiently whining. He needed him, needed him more than he needed oxygen. The alpha hurriedly stripped, the thick scent of heat in the air too strong to even think of anything else but the boy in front of him. Tweek quickly found himself pinned under his lover as he wriggled his way out of his soaked boxers, shuddering at the coolness of the night air.

Taking a handful of his alpha’s dark hair, Tweek desperately tugged Craig into a heated kiss, practically shoving his tongue down the other’s throat in his haste for the flames licking away at his body to cease. As Craig settled between his boyfriend’s legs, the omega immediately ground upward, his cock throbbing in its demand for friction. Moaning into Tweek’s mouth, he slipped a hand between them, beginning to ease his lover open, his other hand toying with one of the blond’s dusty pink nipples. “Not enough, not nearly enough.” Tweek babbled, frantically trying to fuck himself on Craig’s fingers. The alpha thought his heart would break at the pitiful whines Tweek made the moment his fingers withdrew, the needy lust-filled look in his eyes making his cock twitch.

“Craig, please…make it stop. It hurts so bad. I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” Craig assured, pressing a tender kiss to Tweek’s forehead as he slid the thick head of his cock inside. He tightly squeezed Tweek’s hip, hard enough it would probably bruise later. The omega buried his face into the crook of his mate’s neck, biting down to muffle his voice as Craig slowly entered him, nails digging into his back as he was finally filled. Tweek urged him on, grinding against him as he demanded it harder, deeper. Craig complied, grunting, doing everything in his power to make this last, to not come undone instantly despite the vice grip on his cock. 

Their rhythm was fast and uneven, the need to release overpowering. Tweek came with a howl, seeing white as his alpha reopened the mark he’d made last heat, right over his scent gland. He came down babbling, words of praise, of adoration, of how much he wanted his lover. He could feel the bump of Craig’s knot forming, trembling as his oversensitive body soon greedily devoured the whole thing, a feeling of completeness washing over him with every drop spilled inside of him. Craig panted, delirious from pleasure as he collapsed on top of Tweek. “Holy fucking shit, babe.”

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

*Sees all the love my writing is getting*

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

A Bastard Grandchild Isn’t Good For the Coffee Business, Tweek : Chapter 2

Chapter One

Once Tweek calmed down a small bit, the pair decided to discuss this elsewhere, skipping the rest of the school day in a tiny booth at the back of the coffeeshop, avoiding the other’s gaze the entire awkward walk there. The tension between the two as they sat across from each other was almost tangible, neither sure exactly how to begin. They needed to plan, to get their stories straight, and most importantly, piece together what kind of a future awaited the two, no, the three of them. Craig broke the heavy silence with a single question. “How did this happen?”

“I-I don’t know! We’ve always, nngh, used protection during my heats. Oh Jesus, I thought we were being safe! Gah! I mean, we never did it during the day, just like Clyde said not to!” Tweek could faintly taste copper, having bitten his lip a little too hard. Craig barely avoided choking on his drink.

“Wait a minute, Clyde was the one who told you that?” Craig made a mental note to kick the shit out of the beta later for partially getting them into this mess. He should have known that sperm sleeping at night was far too convenient to be true when the heat-addled omega had first babbled it, but it’d made enough sense in the moment to his hormone-driven brain that he had simply accepted it as fact. “You mean we’ve been taking sex tips from a straight-D student?”

Tweek blinked, slowly realizing what Craig was getting at. He shrieked, his cheeks burning hot. Oh Jesus, they’d unknowingly been playing with fire this entire time! Oh god, his parents would disown him if they found out he’d done something so stupid. That was, if they didn’t disown him for getting pregnant in the first place. What if Craig wanted to desert him too and this was going to be what finally drove him away? Hell, Tweek hadn’t even asked him about keeping it yet, let alone about whether he even wanted to raise a baby with him. Unintentionally, still caught up in his mind, he blurted something out, then covered his mouth as if he could retroactively muffle his own words, “W-would you be mad if I wanted to keep it?”

“Would you be mad if I wanted that too?” Sure, the timing had been less than ideal, but this was Tweek Craig was talking about. The blond could ask him for the moon on a string with those blue puppy dog eyes, and he’d never be able to refuse. The more Craig thought about it, the more confident he was that they could make this work. He’d have to push college back a year or so and get a job asap, but it was doable. Graduation was less than nine months away, and if he played his cards right he’d be able to afford the security deposit for an apartment. “It won’t be easy, but a Tucker doesn’t back down from his responsibilities.”

“Oh Jesus, you really mean it?” Tweek couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Of course I fucking do, Tweekers. I love you.”

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

A Bastard Grandchild Isn’t Good For the Coffee Business, Tweek: Chapter 1

“Argh! This is bad. Why is it late?! It’s never late! Am I dying?! Oh my god, I’m gonna fucking die! Shit, shit, shit!” Tweek shrieked into his locker, his jittery hands ripping at his unkempt hair. Being an omega was too much pressure! “What if I caught some new disease or something?! Gah!”

“Sounds like you’ve got a case of baby fever there, Tweek. It’s pretty common this time of year,” Token quipped as he took his math book from his locker.

“B-baby fever?! Is it contagious?! A-are you sure?” Tweek pressed. “Argh, you have to tell me, dude!”

“Yeah, bro. Just ask the nurse, and she’ll explain everything.”

And that’s how Tweek ended up in the bathroom of the nurse’s office, pacing about the cramped space, a small strip of blue and white plastic sitting on the edge of the sink, face down. Shit, what the fuck was he gonna do?! Not only had Token been fucking with him, he now had this nightmare to deal with! Nurse Gollum had nearly laughed the young omega out of her office; that was until Tweek blurted out the reason for his ‘baby fever’ panic, his absent heat. Trembling and pale, he gulped as she explained the most likely reason a sexually active omega would miss their heat: pregnancy.

Now, waiting what felt like centuries trapped in the span of five minutes, his mind raced. Fuck, where did it all go wrong? He’d always been careful during his heats, always, yet here he was, facing the prospect of fatherhood just a few months shy of his eighteenth birthday. Oh Jesus, he wasn’t ready for any of this! The blond was a part-time barista at his parent’s coffee shop for crying out loud! That wasn’t nearly enough income to raise a kid on. Fuck, what if he had to drop out?!

The shrill ring of the timer in his phone startled Tweek from his frantic stream of worries with a startled yelp as he fell flat on his ass. He didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see his own impending doom spelled out clear as day. His eyes shut as tightly as he could, he shakily picked up the test. Tweek held the cursed object as far away from himself as physically possible, and took in a deep breath. Forcing himself to slowly open his eyes, he just stared at it for a minute, unable to process exactly what he was seeing. Then, it all clicked. What he held was a death sentence written in two lines. His life as he knew it was over.

He was so fucking stupid! This was all his fault! Now everyone was gonna find out and hate him forever for it! With a strangled noise, Tweek hurled the test at the wall in frustration, too caught up in his own head to even notice the door opening behind him until a surprised 'The fuck?' alerted the omega. Tweek wheeled around just in time to see none other than Craig Tucker get nailed in the face with the ricocheted piece of plastic. It was in that moment that the blond realized he probably shouldn't have ignored the alpha's texts during all of this. Now he had no way of hiding this until he could figure out what the fuck to do! "Gah! Cr-Craig! Oh Jesus, I'm sorry! It- It was an- an accident, I swear!" Tweek tugged at the fabric at the bottom of his shirt, trying and failing to suppress the twitching.

"Relax, honey. Breathe. I should've knocked," Craig said, trying to see exactly what hit him as he picked the blue strip up. Tweek couldn't bring himself to even look at his mate. The alpha was never gonna forgive him for this, and he'd be right to. The blond wanted to just sink into the tiles of the floor and vanish, feeling Craig's eyes on his shaking form. Here it comes, the anger and abandonment. Tweek braced himself, ready for the worst as he heard Craig take a step closer. He wanted to say something, anything to even begin to explain, but the words just caught in his throat. A confused shriek escaped him as arms were suddenly around his waist and the blond was pulled tight to his boyfriend's chest. Tweek took a deep breath, trying to lose himself, if just for a moment, in the harsh scent of cigarettes that pervaded everything Craig owned. He burrowed himself closer with a choked sob, clinging tightly as everything hit him full force, overwhelmed by uncertainty and fear for what the future held.

“Jesus fucking Christ, babe.” Craig murmured, just holding him and letting him cry for now, trying to make sense of all of this. “What are we gonna do?”

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

Pooktre Living Garden Chair

This gorgeous chair grown by Pooktre is a work of art ten years in the making. Why do I consider it art though? I mean, it's not a conventional piece of art by any sense of the word, you can't put it in a museum, or anything. Though I think it's art due to the underlying symbolism of it. I feel it's a living metaphor for man's domineering relationship with nature, how we bend and twist it to forms of our choosing instead of how it was intended to grow. It takes an object that we see in our everyday lives and reconstructs out of the same wood, just unrefined and alive, making us look at what it really is.

I also feel like it shows that we can live in peace with nature without harming it. The tree grows and lives, yet it also still serves the purpose it’s need for. All that was really needed was patience with nature and it turned into something beautiful.

Pooktre sheltered and protected it as it grew, and now it returns the favor and shelters him underneath the canopy of its leaves. There’s a beautiful symbiosis between the art and the artist which I feel comes out strongly in the image of him with the tree. He put countless hours of work into his creation and sunk so many years of devotion carefully shaping and perfecting its growth that one would expect there to be a strong bond between the two, like that of a parent and child. He raised it with love and care from infancy, and now after many years it has grown up and takes care of and supports him in his old age.

I also find how the trunk split into many branches which all merge at the top of the chair representative of how mankind can come from all walks of life and somehow all pull together and create something truly wonderful by cooperating with each other. The piece has a theme of unity between men and nature, that all of us serve some sort of purpose for the other and all living beings on this earth are intertwined and our fates twisted forming one beautiful picture overall.

[lizzies-eckphrayphray-journ-blog]

“Memorial for Unborn Children” by Martin Hudáček

The woman in the sculpure could mean a vast varity of things if not for the title. She could be a would-be mother grieving the loss of her child, a mother who has lost a very young child, maybe even a woman struggling with infertility or her lost youth. All that is certain is that she is clearly shaken and upset, and unlike the glass child, she is solid and on another plane of existance than the child.

The child itself is very striking in that the glass has an almost pink fleshy tinge, as if barely cut off from life. If unborn, why is it's spirit that of a young child? It almost seems like it's trying to comfort the woman, presumably it's mother, yet by the distance it is from her, the child's almost solumnly detached from her, like it knows that she can't see it. The fact that it's only barely touching her head may be refering to the child living on in her memory, the child wanting their mother to be at peace, or the barrier of life and death that separates the two, no matter how much they desparately want each other.