#I’M exhausted and I haven’t been playing for 4 hours

[bookwyrrm]

These goalies must be exhausted

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

So I 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your casual arrangement turns a bit too serious.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The extra money makes the after-hours work a little less sluggish. It will be worth it when you get the deposit. Even so, you’re only human and the needling between your brow pangs deeper and deeper. 

You can’t help but mourn your free time. You haven’t been to the gym in more than a week and most nights you fall asleep without dinner. It’s a stepping stone. Once you have a handle on things, it won’t be as bad. 

You yawn and lean your head in your hands. You glance up through the transparent walls of your office. Those in the shared space are long gone. There might be a few other execs like yourself left but otherwise, it’s desolate. It’d be peaceful if traffic wasn’t rushing and honking below. 

You rub your nose and sit up. As you do, your door swings open, jarring you so your chair squeaks shrilly. You blather out nonsense as Bucky strides in. His hair is sweaty and slightly askew and his metal arm is on full show as the left sleeve of his jacket has been removed to accommodate it. You haven’t seen him often in anything other than his faded tees and jeans. 

“Oh, hey, uh...” you blink and fix the tilt of your seat. “What are you, em, doing here?” 

He snickers and strolls around your office. He stops at the shelf mounted on the wall and toys with the little golden rose in a crystal vase. It’s one of the few pieces of decor you’ve moved in. 

“I was in the neighbourhood,” he plucks out the stem and admires it. “Working late? Again?” 

“You too.” You sit back to watch him. You cross one leg over the other and angle your head coyly. 

A ripple washes over you at the memory of your last time together. He was so rough and demanding. He’d kept you up all night, and in the morning, you as good as pushed him out your door. Something’s changed. Something you don’t quite like. 

“Oh, don’t play casual with me. I can hear your heartbeat jumping just like you wanna jump out of your panties,” he scoffs. 

You roll your eyes, “How many time do I have to--” 

“You say it but what woman doesn’t want a man who knows exactly what she’s thinking?” He interjects. 

“Like you do.” You shake your head and fold your arms. 

“Ah, come on, it’s been a while.” 

“I know. I’ve been busy. Working.” You pull your arms apart and roll closer to your desk. 

“I just got off myself so why don’t we get off together,” he twirls the rose as he nears. “Pull that skirt up, gimme a peek.” 

“Right. I really don’t have time. Sorry.” You look back to the screen as he stands just on the other side of the desk. Sweat beads in your scalp as he lurks there. He drops the artificial flower on the wood and huffs. 

“Strange. You’re too busy for me. Suddenly. Weren’t too busy a couple weeks ago. I seem to remember some begging,” he laughs. 

“Would you quit?” You sniff and look up at him, folding your hands atop each other. “This isn’t a game for me. I can’t fuck this up. Look, we had fun. It’s been fun but I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s... too much.” 

He’s quiet. He slowly leans down and plants his fingertips on the desk. He stares you down and you look up at him cautiously. A divet forms between his brows. 

“You can’t break up with me. We’re just fucking, so save the it’s not yous, it’s mes,” he hisses. 

“Exactly. We’re not breaking up, Bucky, because this was only ever sex, so please, just go. Find someone who give you what you want. Once you figure that out.” 

His cheeks tauten and his jaw squares. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

“I’m not trying to hurt you--” 

“Hurt? Like you said.” He pushes himself away and the desk lurches. “It isn’t a relationship. Just a dirty, nasty hook-up.” He paces around your office. “The way I had you on your knees. Fuck, the way you wagged your ass for me. Good times.” He stops and claps his hands as he faces you again. “One last hurrah, how about it?” 

You sigh. You shift uneasily and grunt as you try to put your desk straight. It’s just another reminder of how he can do more. 

“I don’t think so.” You look up at him. “You need to go.” 

“Really? I came all the way here.” 

“I didn’t ask you to--” 

“I know you didn’t fucking ask but you were desperate for me every other time, weren’t you? Don’t act like you never wanted me.” He charges forward and you press yourself against your chair. You gulp and bat your lashes. He stops short and snorts. “Relax. What am I gonna do, huh? What did I ever do but exactly what you begged me to do?” 

He throws his hands up and shoves the air. 

“Enjoy your fucking soul-sucking job.” He twists on his heel and marches to the door. He lingers in the frame as he turns his head, his profile shadowy in the dim light of the outer offices. “See how far it gets you.” 

He storms out, leaving you stunned. You rehearsed it over and over. What you would say, how you would say it. You saw him laughing it off. You saw him shrugging and sighing. That was more than you could predict.  

It was him who insisted it was nothing from day one. You agreed because that was easy. Now it feels a lot more complicated. Or rather, did. 

[mentally-gone002]

is it too early to love you? - part 4

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

summary: readers ex boyfriend is an asshole… so much so that he makes readers night a little harder. but reader calls spencer, and he makes it alright.

warnings: blood

a/n: ehehehehehe this is my fav part!!!!! also this was all written in one go (part 1, pt 2, pt 3 and pt 4) so gimme like a few hours, a monster energy drink and some sour patch kids and i’ll pump another part out😜😜😜

————————————————————————

when the case ended i went back home. james was kind enough to return my key, which surprised me, but im glad he wasn’t petty enough to steal it. 

or at least i thought he wasn’t petty.

he might not have been petty enough to lock me out of my apartment but he was petty enough to trash the place.

when i got home my dishes were smashed on the floor, a few of my paperback books were torn up and my tv was gone. 

“jesus.” i murmured through an exhausted sigh. 

i decided to call him. 

“why are you calling me?” 

“i just got home and my place is a mess. disaster would be a better word actually.” i told him. 

he laughed lightly on the other end. “what the hell are you talking about?” 

i scoffed, crossing one arm over my chest. “you know damn right what i’m talking about, so don’t play dumb.” i stepped carefully over the glass pieces that used to be my dishes. i stared at one of my books on the floor, the cover of it was torn in half. “why’d you do this? i haven’t given you a reason to be this much of an asshole.” 

james said something to someone on his end of the phone. “i have my own reasons.”

“what reason is that?” 

“why do you want to know?” 

“so that i can determine weather or not to call the police on you for vandalism.” 

james sputtered out a laugh. “vandalism? please! you wouldn’t call the cops on me.” i swallowed thickly because he was right. “i got you.” he said in a sing-song tone i hated.

i hung up on him. he didn’t deserve a goodbye, or to be able to contact me again. i blocked his number and deleted it. 

i took some time to breathe and process my surroundings before my phone was once again pressed to my ear. 

“hello?” spencer sounded cheerful. and i hated to be calling about this, because i knew he wasn’t going to stay happy. “you there?”

“yeah, i’m here.” i nodded. i had no idea why i called him if i’m being honest. 

“you okay?” he already knew. his tone changed. 

i closed my eyes and sighed. “i’m great spencer.” i almost said it through my teeth, walking back to my kitchen to find a broom. “i’m just- ow, shit!” my food came down on a large piece of what used to be a drinking glass. 

“what happened?” spencer’s voice was faint as i tried to balance on one foot in the middle of a floor filled with glass.

i looked around for a safe path away from the mess. “i stepped in a piece of glass.” i answered him, carefully limping over to my couch and flipped over the back to lay against the cushions. i whimpered when i bumped my injured foot with my unharmed one. 

spencer shuffled around on his end of the phone. i heard keys jingling and his door opening. “i’ll be over in twenty minutes.” 

“spence, no, im fine, it’s just…” i looked at my foot from where its propped up on my knee and pulled a face. “it’s fine, i’ll be fine.” i assured him though it was meant more for myself. 

“i’m still coming over.” he replied. “don’t touch the glass.” 

the line went quiet and i knew he hung up. 

i groaned in pain, watching my blood soak through my sock and drip onto my light grey rug. “shit.” i leaned back into the cushions in pain and exhaustion. 

i can replace the rug. 

spencer got to my place is record time, coming in the already open door because i forgot to close it. 

“what happened?” his voice had me sitting up in shock, whipping my head around to look at him. i shot him a look, silently asking ‘why ask if you already know?’ spencer frowned as he carefully walked across the apartment to me. when he saw the glass in my food he pulled a face similar to the one i did when i first saw it. 

“before you ask if i was watching where i was going, i wasn’t.” i laughed with pain laced in my voice. he didn’t laugh. “it’s not that bad.” 

he sat beside me carefully and leaned toward my foot to look at it better. “do you have a medical kit?” his eyes studied how the glass stabbed into me as he asked. 

“surprisingly yes.” i gestured back to my bedroom. “i have one under the bathroom sink, it’s in the back on the left.” 

spencer stood up to retrieve the kit in less than thirty seconds. he set the contents of the kit on the coffee table before looking at me. “i’m gonna have to pull it out.” 

i nodded, already knowing that. i sat up a little. “okay. let’s get it over with.” i breathed heavily in and out while spencer put on latex gloves that were in the kit. he barely touched the glass and i winced. 

“sorry.” he muttered softly while grabbing the glass between his index and thumb. i screwed my eyes shut and squeezed the couch cushions in my hands. “i’m gonna count-“

“don’t fucking count, just do it.” i laughed due to anxiety, eyes still closed. 

spencer breathed deeply and then there was a sharp pain that made me lurch forward, humming in pain. 

i opened my eyes to watch as spencer quickly grabbed a piece of gauze to press it against my foot. he held it there with one hand as he met my eyes, sighing deeply. “thanks for taking care of me, doc.” i joked. 

he smiled at me, shaking his head. “don’t thank me yet, i’m not done.” 

“do you think i’ll need stitches?” i nodded at my foot. i leaned forward once the pain went down a little. 

spencer shrugged and reached for the shard that used to be in my foot. he held it up for me to see. half of it was covered in blood and the other half was a pretty shade of light green. 

i frowned. “i really liked that cup.” 

spencer laughed slightly, setting the glass back down. “you might need stitches.” he answered my initial question. “but i can do that for you. i know you don’t like hospitals.” 

i smiled at his words, surprised that he remembered that. but, he remembers everything. 

“thank you.” 

“i told you not to thank me.” he reminded. 

my eyes rolled. “too bad, i’m thanking you anyway. get over it.” 

he laughed again, just a short huff of air through his nose as he pulled the gauze away from my foot. 

he took some scissors and cut my sock off my foot, which i protested because i really like these socks, but he told me he’d replace them. when he saw the extent of the damage he determined stitches would be best prior to disinfecting the wound and getting some thread and a needle. 

“this is gonna hurt.”

“well no shit.” i sunk into my couch, just ready for this to be over. i looked at spencer while he held the needle in one hand while looking at me in confusion. “sorry… i’m ready to not be doing this anymore.” 

“i’ll be done really quick, i promise.” he nodded at me. “it’s only a half inch long and a quarter inch deep-“ 

“stop talking, i love you, but stop talking.” i dropped my head back with closed eyes. 

spencer cleared his throat, processing my words as best he could before starting with the stitches. it really didn’t take that long but it did hurt like hell. 

“okay, i’m done.” spencer wrapped gauze around my foot before taking off his latex gloves, gathering everything with my blood on it and threw it away in my garbage can. 

“thank god.” i sighed, standing up to limp into the kitchen behind him, careful to avoid every fragment of glass on the floor this time. 

spencer watched me pull a broom out of the space between my fridge and the wall. “let me sweep.” he held out a hand for me to give up the broom. i glared at him. “don’t fight me on this.” he had a warning tone. 

i gave it up and decided to clean all my destroyed books. i carefully picked up all the pages that were ripped out so harshly.

“this one was my favorite.” i was just talking to myself but spencer stopped what he was doing to look at me. i felt his eyes on me so i smiled up at him before flipping through the worn book. i looked for the page in the front with the author’s signature on it but that was missing. my eyes scanned the floor frantically for the missing page, looking for the signature in deep blue ink i’ve looked at so many times. 

“what’re you looking for?” spencer stopped sweeping again. 

i glanced at him briefly, crawling over the floor, flipping pages over and looking through the stack of them i’d made, just in case i skipped over it. “i’m looking for a page.” 

“what page?” spencer joined me on the floor. 

i shook my head. “the autographed page from this one.” i tapped the halved cover of the book. “it’s a front page, one of the blank ones.” i explained. 

“he ripped up an autographed copy?” 

i nodded, hearing the hurt in his voice. “yeah.” 

spencer helped me look. the room went quiet apart from the occasional rustling of paper. 

“found it.” spencer called to me from where he was kneeling between the couch and coffee table. he held up the page and i sighed in relief, walking on my knees across the floor to him and taking the page into my hands. “it has your blood on it.” he noted. 

i stared at the handwriting and then at a small red soaked part of a corner. i didn’t care that it had my blood on it, i cared that it wasn’t destroyed. “i don’t think he knew this was my favorite book, or he would’ve done way worse.” i muttered, again just thinking out loud. 

“can i say something?” spencer asked. i nodded at him, studying his facial expression before he said, “i never liked him.” i laughed slightly. “im serious. the way he acted with you in public, not really paying attention to you. you’d tell me about things he’d do or say and i’d just feel mad… or upset at him.” i pursed my lips. “he didn’t deserve you.”

that feeling of heartache swelled in my chest as i smoothed my thumbs over the book page in my hands. i couldn’t look at him. not after he said that. he was right, like always. “we should keep cleaning.” i stood up, being mindful of my foot as i did. i placed the book page on my coffee table and went back to picking up all of my ruined books, taking mental notes of which ones i had to replace. spencer stood up off the floor and finished sweeping up the glass on the floor. he’d look at me every few minutes, i could feel it. his eyes made my skin prickle sometimes. he was the only person who’s eyes made me react like that. 

“are all of your dishes broken?” 

i hummed in unknowing, gently placing my trashed books into the garbage and then went to my cabinets, opening them to stare at a few dishes that survived james’s wrath. “thankfully, no.” i looked back at him with a relieved smile. “i am gonna go get new sets anyway though. i need a refresh for the whole place.” 

spencer hummed in response while putting the broom back from where he watched me grab it from earlier. “want me to help?” 

i shrugged. “if you want to hang out with me in ikea for like four hours then sure.” 

he smiled. “you know me, i never have plans.” 

“i do know you.” i smiled back, now facing him with my back to the near empty cabinets.

[amywritesthings]

SEEING YOU, SEEING ME (6/7)

(gif by williamsmiller)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.8K

Summary: Day four, also known as the final day with Joel

Warnings: SMUT! 18+! No Minors! Pre-TLOU, One Bed Trope, Age difference, Semi-Enemies to Fuckers, Angst, Sexual Tension, Dirty talk, Pet names, Touch Starved!Joel, Doggy style, Multiple positions, Nipple play, Oral (f!receiving), Oral (m!receiving), Orgasms (4), Rough sex, Spanking, Protected PiV

( Read on AO3 )

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CHAPTER 6: REACH OUT, TOUCH FAITH

Sunlight blasts its way through the small studio apartment by the time you stir awake.

In the aftermath of a fervent night, the day arrives calm. Birds chirp blissfully in the crisp morning air. Shouts are few and far between on the quarantine zone streets below. A breeze billows the thin ivory curtains at the windowsill and tickles your nose.

Then something runs against the thin sheet — a hand — and nudges your ankle lightly in an effort to bring you back to the land of the living. At first it feels like a mirage, but then the hand once again wiggles your leg with added pressure.

While the gentle touch should startle you, you only smile against the pillow case and roll towards it.

(Maybe he's tired of hiding behind walls.)

“Hey, Joel.”

“Joel?”

The question is heavy with surprise.

The voice is gruff but melodic.

Instantly your eyes snap open to see a grinning Tess at the foot of the bed. In the glow of the morning, your friend appears exhausted. Yet the longer she watches your horrified stare, the more her tiredness twists into playful intrigue.

“I leave for three days and suddenly you two are on a first-name basis? Damn.”

“That isn’t—”

“Must’ve been one hell of a vacation, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Tess—”

“Relax,” she interrupts, leaning in as if she holds the greatest secret in the quarantine zone. She pats your leg one more time from over the sheet while you scramble to sit up against the back wall. “I’m only fucking with you. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I am happy to see you,” you correct sharply. “You haven’t been back here in days.”

“Yeah, because Robert has a hard-on for being difficult.”

Tess relents and stands to give your space out of your slumber. Albeit exhausted, she also seems pleased to say the least. Chipper.

Tess is rarely such without a reason.

“But you’re okay?” you ask, quickly buttoning your denim jeans while her back is turned.

“Yeah, thanks to you. You know how much I hate owing people,” Tess replies over her shoulder while her hand reaches out for the back of a dining table chair. The furniture drags along the floor until she can position it between the threshold separating the bedroom from the living room. Her leg lifts to straddle the seat, unceremoniously flopping as she descends. “Good thing I don’t owe you anymore though.”

You blink. “Wait, they took the deal?”

“And then some.” Tess drops her chin to her stacked hands at the crown of the chair’s backing. “As of four hours ago, we have a ceasefire deal for the next six months.”

“Six months?” The words blurt faster than you can stop them, eyes wide. “No shit?”

“No shit."

"They've never agreed past two."

"I know, so color me shocked when he put six on the table. Congratulations, you’re a free woman.” She stops, holding up a cautionary hand. “But — starting tomorrow. Don’t run out the front door just yet. I have to let Joel know he’s putting up with you for one more night, but it seems like he’s managing it.”

His name makes your skin burn.

You shouldn’t ask.

“Where is he, by the way?”

(Why did you ask?)

“As far as I know, he took up a job early this morning. Body disposal.” How grave, no pun intended. “Why? Eager for Eeyore to come back?”

You stay purposefully ignorant to the lingering question Tess isn’t asking, not when you know your face is turning shades of a sheepish color. Shaking your head, you remove the sheet from your waist and stand, toeing your boots on.

“And where are you going to be?” you ask instead, switching the subject.

Tess shrugs a shoulder, not the least bit bothered. “I have to come up with a token of good faith with some Fedra fucks tonight, but I'll be fine. Probably going to head back here early so we get you out at curfew start. I signed you up for a first shift sweep job tomorrow, so you can crawl back into QZ like nothing ever happened.”

Except everything has happened, at least to you.

Only a few more hours before you’re not contained in this apartment.

(Only a few more hours until Joel Miller never has to speak to you again.)

“Hey.”

The sound of her voice wakes you from the morose thought. You blink back to her — she stares with a knitted brow. Observing.

Christ, they really are like two peas in a pod.

“You good?”

“Better than good,” you lie. “Thank you for doing all of this.”

At first the other woman doesn’t answer, instead opting to mull over whatever’s laced between the lines of this conversation that aren’t clicking. Unlike Joel, however, Tess gives up fairly fast. She rises from her seat, wiping her hands on the thighs of her denim jeans.

“Thank me tomorrow. In the meantime, I’m off to tie up loose ends. Joel should be home by four-something.”

“Okay,” you answer numbly, staying put where you stand as she gathers some food from the cupboards to shove into her pack for the day ahead. She pays no mind beyond a bland smile, waving goodbye behind her as she goes for the front door.

It slams shut on her way out.

.

.

.

.

According to the rusty clock on the nightstand, it’s 4:00 p.m. 

Joel is nowhere to be found.

You wait on the couch fidgeting with your thumbs, staring up at the door every few minutes.

Maybe the clock doesn’t work.

.

.

.

.

It’s 6:00 p.m.

The clock at least works, but still no sign of Joel.

.

.

.

.

7:55 rolls around.

Curfew is in five minutes. You begin to worry.

Maybe he’s not showing up tonight.

.

.

.

.

9:02.

You fluff the pillow on the bed, deflated in spirit ready for a shorter night’s sleep.

It's all but confirmed that last night must have been a fluke thing. A midnight decision that doesn’t follow into the day.

A mistake.

Boom.

The front door bursts open, startling you to stand in a defensive panic. The sight of a disheveled Joel Miller greets you from the hallway, breath labored and ragged. Yet he turns to quietly shut the door behind him, lingering there for a beat.

"Miller?"

He turns at his last name with a step forward to walk towards you. Worry spills into your gut, twisting it.

“Hey, where the fuck have you—”

Joel doesn’t stop walking, so you stop talking.

Past the kitchen, past the living room.

He barrels clear past the archway’s threshold and into you with this thousand-yard stare. He takes both sides of your head into his large hands with a gentleness you didn't expect him to possess. You don't move away, stilled in shock by his abrupt advancement.

Waiting.

It’s just Joel, nostrils flaring and gaze empty — haunted — as he catches his breath, and you, wide-eyed and waiting for an explanation.

He doesn’t give one, not at first. It’s like he’s not really here with you — he's lost in a pool of memories he can’t swim his way out of, not on his own.

So you gently place a hand on his wrist.

“Miller.”

A demanding bark without fear is the one thing that blinks the older man back into his body. Finally he looks into your eyes, alert and aware, as plush lips part with an excuse he cannot find.

There.

Joel’s back from wherever he went.

“Talk to me. Is everything okay?” you murmur, mindful of your tone.

Joel licks the seam of his lips, contemplating, but he never removes his hands from the sides of your face. The proximity of him in this impossibly small space is palpable. He shifts in an uncertain manner, like he’s nervous.

(Joel Miller, nervous; it's as ludicrous as it sounds, yet it's happening right in front of you. A skittish animal stuck between rock and a hard place.)

“You said you don’t care," he finally says.

It isn't the statement you were expecting him.

“What?”

“Was any of it true?” he asks instead. You don't answer beyond furrowing your brow, so he speaks again. “That it doesn’t matter. That you don’t really care.”

The dots in the dark connect.

“...wait, you mean about last night—?”

“M’asking if what you said was true,” he growls, causing a pause to settle in the night air.

(Don’t ask for things you don’t understand.)

You're able to nod every so gently into his hands.

He exhales sharply like it’s a blow to the gut, but doesn’t let go.

“You were still asleep,” he tells you in a mumble, "so I took up a job."

“I know,” you finally say just as softly. “And it’s a good thing you did, too, because Tess stopped by to say that I was—”

“Out of the woods,” he finishes for you. “Yeah, she showed up after my shift and told me. Said it was your last night stuck here.”

“And she told me that you’d be back by four o'clock.”

“Yeah, was supposed to be, but I showered and ate somewhere else. Thought maybe you needed the space.” He swallows thickly. “Except she said you woke up asking for me.”

(Thanks, Tess.)

You scoff. “Well — I wasn’t asking for you, but I thought it was right to assume it was you trying to wake me up.”

“So then you don’t regret it.”

What ought to be a question is not.

It takes a minute to swallow what he’s really trying to say — you wouldn’t have wanted to see me after the things we did last night, right? God forbid you regret mutually jerking off with me.

A humorless huff passes your lips, causing his brow to furrow. “Did you really think I would?”

By the way the older man hesitates once more, clearly not expecting a question in return, he did.

Your shoulders drop with the weight of his shame, his uncertainty — your hope.

(Because you deserve something better. More. Not something hollow or broken.)

Without thinking, your fingers squeeze his wrist in a comforting pulse — I’m here — and his frame deflates.

“I can’t give you much,” he admits under his breath. He looks into your eyes with a struggling honesty. “I don’t know if I can give you anything at all.”

The confession is almost heartbreaking.

You shake your head with a short huff. “Look, I’m not asking you for—”

“I know you’re not,” he interrupts. “That’s the frustrating part. You’re not asking anything of me when you ought to. You keep saying you see me when I thought I got nothing left in me but..." Joel trails off, licking the seam of his lips. "S’why I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

You ask before you can stop yourself.

“Haven't stopped thinking about... what?”

He gets quiet, hands still cupping your face. You remain there, hand resting on his wrist.

Slowly Joel begins to lean his face in, closer, as if he might kiss you. 

Caution to the wind; if you raised your chin, your lips would meet.

Joel then draws in a loud, sharp inhale from his nose and closes his eyes like he’s in pain. As if all of this is too much to bear — I can’t give you much — when all he truly wants is to be able to do one thing and one thing alone.

So you speak when he can’t find the words:

“You don’t have to kiss me.”

The bluntness of your whispered statement makes him open his eyes.

You smile, small and certain, to show you mean it.

Something shifts in his expression, wounded yet grateful for your willingness to see him here. The soft puffs of his breath tickle you when he speaks.

“I will,” he decides.

His left hand leaves your cheek to run along your ear and into your hair, snaking and threading through the strands. He tugs your head back to expose your neck, ripping your attention to the ceiling with a gasp.

“Just not there.”

Finally he takes the plunge, pressing his lips to the pulse point of your neck like it’s the only thing he’s wanted to do all week. They travel hungrily up the base of your throat, eliciting a whimper from you. He hums appreciatively against your skin.

You laugh breathlessly at the sky. “I swear, Miller—”

He tugs at your hair again, this time harder. You wince from impact.

“What did I say about my name?”

From the couch was one thing. Up close? His voice, his demands, are downright sinful. The implications make every bone in your body melt on impact.

“Joel.”

He nips at your flesh, careless to the thought of the mark showing later. You jump, but he keeps you in place with a hand at your hip. The touch is desperate; his fingers tremble against the sliver of skin your hiked shirt gives him, but he feigns total confidence as his kisses climb higher.

Joel's tongue hotly drags along the shell of your ear with a whisper that could end you.

“You gonna listen as good as you did last night, Gibson Girl?” You nod. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I will.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I’ll fucking listen, Joel, now stop teasing.”

“It ain’t you who’s in control here, darlin’.”

Abruptly Joel moves away and you worry that you’ve spoken back too much, but he hunches down and uses a smuggler’s strength to position his arms under your thighs, lifting you up and off the floor.

Purposeful in his walk to the bedroom, you lean in to press chaste kisses down his neck, earning a grunt of urgency. In one swift motion he tosses you to the mattress and drags you by your calves towards the edge of the bed, bringing both of your knees to rest against his hips. 

Quickly he leans over, unbuttoning your worn shirt and ripping it away to expose your chest to the cool night air. Your nipples are already taut from want, standing at attention, and he stares for a moment to witness your nakedness for himself.

If you weren’t so turned on, then maybe you’d feel the need to be modest. You don’t. Not when you damn well know you’re already wet for him, all too eager to please.

Joel stands tall to struggle with his own flannel shirt, popping the buttons one by one as you watch. He pauses for a moment, as if in an internal debate with himself, before shrugging it off and tossing the fabric to the side.

You see it all: the knicks and scars of a survivor, the stray bullet streaks and worn patches of wounds that never, and will never, heal. From his belly button trails a line of dark hair that disappears straight into his denim jeans, causing your mouth to water.

Joel stops moving at your blatant hungry stare while catching his breath. In this light, he looks vulnerable. Lost, like he wants everything all at once yet without taking the first step to get it.

You can be the light he follows, here, in the dark.

Slowly you slink from your laid out position — first your elbows, then the drag of your knees up to plant your feet — before gliding to sit on your knees. The older man’s expression darkens, pupils blown to black, as your button-down hangs loosely off your shoulders.

In a test of faith, you reach your right hand forward — and hover your fingers at the zipper. His jeans seem uncomfortably tight, but Joel does not move.

“What are you willing to give me?” you murmur, staring up at him.

His nostrils flare, confliction etched across his worn expression. You nod — it’s okay, it’s fine — before sliding the zipper down to release some pressure.

“Let me,” you implore quietly, and his stomach tenses. “If you want me to stop, I will. You know I can be good for you. I’ll listen.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, but it isn’t a flat-out no. You pop the button of his jeans, careful to take your time with tugging the waistband down his hips, over his ass, until his hard cock springs free.

The sight of it is better than you could have ever dreamed.

Your mouth waters.

“May I?” you ask in an out-of-body experience, fixated on what you want. Joel only responds by threading a hand through your hair, leading you lower.

Bending at the hips to accommodate, you place a chaste kiss to the tip of his cock. The smuggler hisses under his breath, grip painfully tight in your hair, but it only encourages you to continue. 

Dragging your tongue along the vein of his shaft, you make it a point to look up at him — to watch the concentration on his face — before closing your mouth over the tip of him. The swirl of your tongue is enough to warrant a vice-like grip in your hair, balled in a fist and causing your eyes to water.

You don’t stop.

All of your attention is focused on tasting him, to worship what little control he’s relented. You hollow your cheeks and he curses outright, loud, and you’ve never felt more alive in your life. Taking him in with a rhythmic bob of your head, you feel the excruciating ache between your legs grow. He grunts, bucks, and breathes heavily through his nose like he’s trying to keep a semblance of control.

You barely get to take him in deep before he’s forcefully dragging your mouth off his cock with a lewd pop that echoes in the apartment.

“You do that any longer, and I’ll be out of commission real quick,” Joel exhales.

Before you can protest, he shoves you back onto the mattress and climbs on top of you. His hands rip your shirt away from your shoulders, lips possessed to leave their mark in a brutal suck to your clavicle. His fingers drop to your jeans, determined to pop the button.

He curls his palms around the waistband of your jeans and underwear and shoves them down your legs in a singular motion, leaving you completely exposed. The gasp is delayed, lost somewhere in your throat when he surges both of your arms over your head, pinning you in place.

Joel hovers over you, chest to naked chest, and stares into your eyes as he takes one hand in his, guiding it by entwining your fingers together. Mesmerized, you allow him to drag your palm under the cool belly of the pillow overhead. He repeats the motion with your other hand, placing them out of sight.

“Keep your hands under that, y’hear?”

Your expression shifts with realization: he isn’t going to let you touch him anymore.

“But I wanna feel you," you protest.

“You’re gonna feel plenty of me,” he promises, dragging a finger gently down your chest until it passes over a nipple. Your body jolts with electricity. “Gonna be nice and slow until you can’t stand it.”

“Jesus Christ.”

He chuckles as he tests the waters, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers. Yours grip onto the fabric of the pillowcase for dear life.

“That ain’t my name, but I’ll take it.”

You huff out a laugh, but the humor is quickly lost as he continues to roll your nipple between his fingers. Experimenting. Seeing what makes you tick.

(If the pool of wetness between your legs is any indicator, then he should know everything about him has worked plenty.)

“I don’t think I can handle the slow part,” you admit as he continues to toy with the same nipple without a plan to continue forward.

“You’re gonna take whatever I give,” Joel tells you. “Can take twenty minutes. Can take two hours. Can take all night. I know you got nowhere to be.”

You could come right now without him ever touching you anywhere else.

And he means it — for what feels like hours he experiments playing with your breasts, cupping each mound and swirling his thumb, pinching, rolling, before making you shout when the wet heat of his mouth closes around it.

Then he repeats with the other in similar glacial torture and you feel like you might cry.

You’d be embarrassed at how slick your thighs have become, but you just tremble under his attention, hoping he’ll find some mercy and fuck you before daylight.

Finally — finally — Joel begins his descent from your chest to your ribs, kissing his way down your body. You choke on a sob when he hooks an arm under your thigh.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he murmurs into your skin like his own personal infection, sending your nerve endings on fire.

“Please, Joel,” you whimper, fighting to keep your hands under the pillow as promised. “God, please, I’ll give you anything you want if you just—”

“If I what?” he interrupts, looking up at you from your pubic mound. “Ain’t you giving me what I want already?”

You’re ready to fight him, but he silences any argument before it even hits your tongue the second his drags along your folds. Gasping loudly, you fly your hand to the top of the pillow to grab the material into a fist, breaking his rules.

Joel merely hums in approval around your clit before swirling his tongue with relentless determination. Maybe he’s implied it has been a while, but you’d never know. Not from the way he licks, sucks, and worships you from the edge of the bed like you hold the lifeline of what it means to survive right between your legs.

You can already feel the orgasm cresting, forcing your hips to buck into his face.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t try, when you’re busy babbling a stream of curses laced with his name.

Joel, Joel, Joel—

Like a star bursting in the night sky, your sudden orgasm causes you to yell. He groans into you, keeping up the rhythm of his tongue against your clit until you whisper frantically for him to stop.

He obeys, backing off for a second, but not for another longer.

Brutally his hands grab your hips, flipping you over on the bed so that your nose collides with the sheets beneath you. His hands maneuver your already pliable body, raising your hips up, up, until you're on display only for him.

Joel pushes your knees wider so that he can look at all of your, thumb impatiently dragging along your sensitive clit and forcing you to jolt on contact.

“Feels like you’re ready for me,” he murmurs behind you, and you nod like a madwoman into the mattress. You hear the tear of a wrapper foil before he positions the tip of himself against your entrance, testing the give with gentle nudges, and you whine.

“Joel—”

You can’t ask him to fuck you when he wastes not a second more to slide into you, body so worked up that he easily fits. He groans loudly above you once he's bottomed out, right hand smacking your ass with a resounding pop.

“You feel even better than what I imagined,” he confesses in gruff adoration, gliding his hand down your spine. His palm presses your chest into the mattress as he drags his cock slowly back out of you. The older man then snaps his hips, filling you again, and doesn't stop once he's taken to a mercilessly rhythm.

The room reverberates with the sound of skin against skin, your moans and his grunts, the squeak of an old mattress on concrete slabs.

You want to be used.

You want to be ruined.

And he’s well on his way to doing so when he leans forward, gathering your waist with his arm. Joel surges you to your widened knees and drives his cock straight up into you as he traps you against his chest, fucking you relentlessly.

From gritted teeth you hear him groaning, cursing, praying on your name.

It’s too much.

“I’m gonna cum again,” you whimper, and his hand encloses over one of your breasts as he continues to fuck you.

“Yeah?” he asks into your ear. You nod against his shoulder, head bent back, and he toys with your nipple between his fingers. “Gonna get at least three out of you.”

“I don’t know if I can do—”

“You’re gonna,” he reassures, pinching your nipple hard. “For me, you’re gonna.”

It takes little to nothing beyond his voice to get you there. You feel yourself tightening around his cock, spasming from another devastating orgasm, and he groans through it. His movements slow, afraid you’ll milk him for what he’s worth here and now, and gently pulls himself out of you.

You fall forward on all fours onto the bed, limbs shaking from the power of your second climax. Joel stays close behind with a hand on your ass — I’m right here — before kissing the small of your back.

“Shit, Joel,” you mumble, and he laughs behind you.

Actual laughter, like this is a game.

“C’mon, girl. At your big age, you better not be quitting on me yet,” he teases, voice wrecked, before offering a light tap to your ass. “Turn around.”

Although your body feels like jelly, you oblige and roll onto your back. Joel Miller crawls onto the mattress to meet you, cock still hard and eager. Something magnetic forces you to sit up — first on your elbows, then to climb to your knees, until you’re meeting him in a straddle of his waist.

Nose to nose.

The unbridled confidence Joel had when he was behind you seems to dissipate. It’s replaced with a palpable uncertainty — one hesitant of the closeness, the intimacy, of finally being face to face with you here.

“It’s okay,” you murmur into the finite space between you, and he nods. Reaching for his hand on your thigh, you raise it to curl into the hair at the nape of your neck as you align the tip of him back over your entrance. Joel lets out a sputter of a breath, face flushed with sweat and arousal. 

Inch by inch, you glide yourself back onto his cock.

Joel’s eyelids flutter from the sensation.

Soon you’re fully seated, legs wrapped around his waist. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist to keep you in place as you drag yourself up, then gently back down onto him. He groans with pleasure, brows screwed tightly together — but his eyes never stop watching.

Rather than close his eyes, he wants to watch.

So you watch, too.

Joel begins to meet your hips in a thrust from below, causing you to moan. Gradually the confidence returns as you fuck him, bouncing onto his cock with an urgency to find you third orgasm. He encourages you to take the lead, thrusting to meet you.

Breathing heavily through his nose, Joel then drops his hand from your hair to wrap it around your neck. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your head drop back with ecstasy. His hand reaches between you to find your clit, rubbing in furiously circles once you shout with the sudden pleasure.

From the way his hips begin to sputter and his groans get louder and more urgent, you imagine he’s getting close.

The thought alone of Joel coming now with your name on his lips — in front of you, because of you — brings that euphoric ache back through your body.

You drag your chin back down and he presses his forehead to yours, frantically thrusting up into you to find his orgasm.

You whisper dirty nothings between you, begging him to let go.

To feel.

I see you.

You never anticipated that he would drag you into a kiss just before he comes, but he does.

Joel pulls you in — devastated and broken — to press a passionate kiss to your lips.

Despite the shock of the sudden action, you bring both hands to his cheeks and kiss back.

Your mouth drinks down his loud moans as he comes inside you. The fingers swirling at your clit pull you to the edge with him as you whimper into his mouth. Your walls clamp down hard on him, causing him to only kiss you harder.

When his hips still, he doesn't pull away.

When the tremble of your limbs stop, neither do you.

After discarding the condom, Joel returns to bed and keeps you close.

You both drift to sleep without saying anything at all.

.

.

.

.

By morning light, you're gone.

Author's Note: Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading this series. The epilogue will publish a little before my birthday trip. (I turn 30 on March 2nd!) I am so very grateful for the likes, comments, reblogs, and everything in-between.

[preciadosbass]

30/7/24 [draft from yesterday, again]

woke up at 9 and didn’t end up going back to sleep because my parents kept on talking about how i couldn’t as my provision/keyworker’s coming round. i know i usually get sleep, even if it’s in small amounts, but i never feel like i do. i scrolled through a few pictures of patrick stump until i had breakfast. i honestly felt so exhausted today following how my sleep and eating is at the moment.

my provision [person i have to see instead of going to school] came round almost immediately after i got up so i got dressed listening to escape the fate and then i obviously have to see her. i was about to say good morning to boris on the driveway when she pulled up so i ran off into the living room and waited for her to come in. i think she could tell that i was not having it today so we just awkwardly played uno for an hour. it’s hard to explain stuff like this without sounding ungrateful, i know it’s better than being at school, AND i know it makes me sound stupid, but i’m so scared of her. i really don’t like having to see her.

after she left i went outside and cuddled boris. he was literally the most affectionate id ever seen him in the four years we’ve had him. he usually just goes back and forth and brushes his head on me but today he wouldn’t leave me alone [in the best way.] i took a few videos of him rolling around on the floor and being playful because he’s just too cute. after being out with him for around 35 minutes i went back inside and finished watching tv from yesterday.

my dad came into my room at some point with something behind his back and i assumed it was some weird ass bug because he does tend to hand me stuff like that a lot. i didn’t believe that whatever it was wasn’t alive so i looked away and he put it behind my pillow and walked out. turned out it was a FALL OUT BOY CD!!! he got a deal on ebay and thought he might aswell get me something he knew i like. i love him so much.

after talking to my dad about fall out boy i went back to my room and carried on watching tv. while doing so i made another collage [shown at the end]. i’m not entirely happy with it but i knew it’d be a little iffy as i don’t have anything too interesting to stick into my book. i also didn’t have enough receipts/stickers [etc] to finish it anyways, but at least i liked making it.

i watched tv up until 4 when started collecting pictures of chris drew and other people like that to print out sometime, and then at some point i went upstairs to play roblox with my sister as we haven’t had one to one time in ages — or time together whatsoever for that matter. we played pierce the veil obby, natural disaster and fashion famous. it was really nostalgic playing roblox again.

my phone battery got low so i went back downstairs to the driveway and cuddled boris for like 30/40 minutes. mum came back from shopping so i had a couple grapes and watched a few videos on roller coaster crashes. after that i went on a walk with my mum to this abandoned well i haven’t been to since like 2018. [couple of pics also at end, the rest are at my insta @//iloveechicheng]

when i got home i looked for boris at his favourite spot [perched under my dads car] and when he wasn’t there i momentarily freaked out and as i looked up i noticed him on the windowsill looking out at me from the kitchen?? he’s literally never sat on a windowsill, at least not to my knowledge.. it was so cute OMGG

at this point it was about 9:30 so i stayed awake for as long as i could until i had a 20 minute nap and then went up to my parents to ask them questions about boris because they were still awake [1am i think]. we didn’t argue as we were all just so tired. afterwards i went downstairs intending to have another 20 minute nap but i woke up at 2 so i rushed to say goodnight to boris before i fell asleep again.

* ignore how weird the collage looks, i had to blur out most of the stuff on the receipts

have a good day/night -_<

[rose-pearls]

Arrow - Part 5

Summary: the time has come to say goodbye to your father, even if you don't feel ready.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 - Part 6, Part 7

The ride to our family home was quiet, both of us in our thoughts. Not realising what was going to happen at home.

I park the car but we both stay in the car looking at the house, willing to turn back time to when we were children running around the house playing till we were to exhausted. The barbecues we used to do with our dad teaching us how to get the meat perfectly cooked while playing with us.

The shuddering breath that leaves my lips seems to wake up my sister who looks straight ahead and opens the door of the car to go in. I take another breath and close my eyes trying to prepare myself, after that I exit the car towards the house. 

There is a tense atmosphere in the house, my mother is hugging my sister tightly and brings me in a hug with them when she sees me. 

“How long?”, I can barely ask the question, but I need to know.

“One hour, two maximum.”, I tighten my hold over my sister and after a couple of minutes we leave the embrace to go upstairs.

The door to their room is open and I know he is in there probably lying down, my sister seems to not be able to move at the sight of the door, but I continue, looking inside and seeing him there. He had always been a strong man, he was Iceman, and seeing him in such a state was devastating. He seemed frail due to the treatments but still his bright grin that stayed through all the heartache was still there.

“Hi dad.”, my voice cracks a bit, and he has a tender smile on his face.

“My sweet girl, I’m so glad you’re here.”, I sit down next to him taking his hand in mine.

“How are you doing?”, he rolls his eyes at the question, and I can’t help but let out a chuckle, he will always stay the same.

“I’m doing good, just finding it hard.”, I know what he means, he’s finding it hard to leave us here while he goes somewhere where he can’t protect us.

“We’re going to be okay dad, you made us strong independent women.”

“That I did.”, there is a proud gleam in his eyes, and I squeeze his hand.

“I wish we had more time together.”, a tear slips out of my eye at my words and for the first time in his life my father doesn’t seem to have an answer to that. He just opens his arms and I climb next to him feeling his familiar arms around me.

“I will always be there, and I enjoyed every minute I had with all of you. I would never exchange it for anything in the world.”, I hold him tighter, and he kisses my forehead just like he did when I was a kid.

“Do you want me to call Maverick?”, he seems surprised by my offer and shakes his head. 

“I have my two daughters around me that is enough.”, he seems to hesitate and after a second or two he adds. “We already said goodbye to each other the last time he was here.”

“Does he know it was goodbye?”, he just squeezes me tighter, and I know Maverick doesn’t know.

My sister enters the room tears running down her cheeks and dad opens his other arm to make her come lie down next to him.

“My two beautiful girls.”, we both hold on to him tighter and he starts asking us about training, so Fire explains him all of the dogfighting football we did, and it makes him laugh like I haven’t heard in a long time.

We spent the next hour reminiscing about our childhood and his stories in the Navy, which makes him smile. 

At one point I don’t hear him retort to a story my sister is telling and I know, he is not here anymore.

My sister takes a moment to realise but when she sees me crying, she realizes and lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

“Dad! Dad, common wake up. Please, I need you.”, I leave my dad’s side to take my sister who seems to be having a panic attack in my arms and for the first time in a long time she lets me take her and calm her down. I put her head on my heart and she slowly calms down, but the crying doesn’t cease just like me as I watch my dad who died with a peaceful smile on his face.

Mom comes by a few minutes later with the doctor who announces his time of death and I hold on to my sister even tighter hoping to make her forget the sight of dad like that. 

“Hey, hey listen to me.”, she moves a bit and I know she is listening to me.

“You remember when we wanted to go to Disneyland, and we pleaded every single day for like weeks or even months and at one point mom and dad cracked. Do you remember what dad said.”, she nods slowly while holding me tighter.

“You really are your dad’s girls.”, I nod slowly with tears falling down my cheeks like rainfall.

“Remember that. Remember dad when he wasn’t sick, remember his words. He was so proud of you every single day of your life when you did that turkey hand with paint and when you joined the Navy. It doesn’t matter what you do, he will always love you so much.”, she lets out sobs at my words and nods slowly.

“You are the fire to his ice little sis, you always managed to melt him.”, she lets out a teary laugh and I see our mother looking at us with tears in her eyes.

“Let’s go into the living room, see the photo albums.”, she tries to argue but doctors arrive to get dad to the funerary and she nods.

Before I leave the room, I look back and catch once again a glimpse of our dad looking peaceful and I know he died happy.

The house has been a wreck for the last two hours, Fire fell asleep from exhaustion, but I can’t close my eyes, tomorrow they are coming to take his military documents and I can’t help but feel sick at the speed of it. 

His desk is littered with pictures, one of them is of Maverick and him where they are both grinning like maniacs, and I can’t help the small smile that appears.

“Your dad was ruthless at Top Gun.”, I turn around to see Maverick who looks like he’s barely holding it together.

“He said that you managed to mellow him with time.”, this seems to make a smile appear on Maverick’s face, but the tears shine in his eyes as he looks at the picture.

I cross the room and take him in my arms feeling him fall apart in my arms.

“He was a good man, he shouldn’t have gone this soon.”, I nod weakly in his shoulder, and we hold each other tightly.

“He really loved you, you know.”, I hear Maverick chuckle before taking me at arm length.

“I loved him too, still do.”, I nod sadly at his words and squeeze his arm.

Maverick looks around the room before looking straight at me for a few minutes.

“You are just like him you know?”, I’m surprised to hear that and Maverick chuckles emotionally.

“You have all of his qualities, always finding a way to make people feel comfortable, being there for people you care about.”, I can’t help the tears that fall down my cheeks and Maverick looks at me defeated.

“They asked me to participate in his service.”, I nod slowly, I already knew that.

“Dad wanted you there, said that that way he would be able to have you close to him even at something like this.”, Maverick nods but tears are falling down his cheeks.

“He always had a picture of you and him in his wallet, said it was to have his wingman close to him, but it was to have you close to him Pete.”, he is rubbing his eyes like he’s willing the tears to stop but somehow, they don’t.

“I also have a picture of us in my wallet.”, he chuckles weakly, and I sigh softly.

“I know it’s not ideal, to have to slam his wings into the coffin, literally, but you are the only person he would trust with this.”, Maverick looks determined before looking at me and smiling softly.

“Don’t forget to take care of yourself, you get that from your dad, forgetting you also need comfort.”, I don’t have time to respond as he leaves the room squeezing my shoulder.

The service was beautiful, for Maverick it seemed like it was pure torture to be looking at my dad’s picture, but he saluted as the plane flew above us and it was really time to say goodbye. Fire was with our mom, talking to the guests but I’m still looking down at where his casquet is trying to ignore the cold air.

After a moment I feel a warm jacket around my shoulder, and I recognize Rooster’s cologne. 

“If you need to talk, I’m always available.”, I nod slowly but can’t look back up at him.

“I’ll be okay but thank you.”, Rooster let’s out a sigh before taking my shoulders.

“You aren’t and you probably won’t be for some time. But you have me – us – at your side. Let us in and help you. You don’t need to be there for everyone and not think of yourself.”

“My mother and my sister need me.”, he nods at my words, but I feel like he is going to add something.

“They do but you will only be able to be there for them completely if you are alright yourself and keeping everything bottled up isn’t helping. Trust me I know.”, I feel frustrated at his words.

“What do you want me to do Rooster? Tell you that I’m sad, that I’m angry at the world for taking him away from us?”, I don’t even realize I’m crying and shaking until Rooster takes me into his arms and whispers comforting words.

“He was the best dad, the best Admiral, the best person in this world why did he have to go so soon? He will never see my kids, or my sister marry someone.”, Rooster holds me tighter while I sob in his chest.

“How do I get all of that anger out of my system.”, I say that last bit defeated in his chest, and he sighs.

“There will be days when it’s easier and other days will be much harder. But you have your family at your side, you have the squad and me. We are a team remember, partners.”, I nod with a smile forming slowly.

“I already miss him so much.”, Rooster nods at my words and I feel him rub my back comfortingly.

“He will always be there with you, in your memories and in your heart.”

“Look at you, being all cheesy.”, Rooster chuckles and looks down at me.

“It is true, and you will learn to live with the new void in your chest and someday someone will come in your life and slowly fill that void.”, I look into his eyes, and I have a feeling that the is telling me something but then I hear my mother call my name and I let go of Rooster.

“Let’s go back, they probably want me with them.”, Rooster still looks worried but nods slowly walking next to me.

The sun shines brighter as we step towards my family, and I know my dad is here with us.

[thehomebodydiaries]

homebody diaries .002.

the amount of reading that i’ve been doing lately makes me think of when i first discovered booktube: i learned about all these popular books and i was broke for like a consistent year because i wouldn’t stop buying books, but i only made like $9/hr. even now, with a full-time job that pays me almost twice that much, i still don’t know why that worked out for me. it definitely should not have.

anyway, yesterday was “free comic book day” and a local comic store gave me a bag of like sixteen free comics, and then i turned around and spent $80 on more comics. it also reminded me that i had two comics in my favorite series that i haven’t read yet. so i’ve got volumes 10 and 11 of “saga,” and yesterday i purchased the first volumes of “deadly class” and “something is killing the children,” as well as junji ito’s manga interpretation of mary shelley’s “frankenstein,” and then “old man logan,” which is about an elderly wolverine (whose healing capabilities are faltering) who gets picked up by an old hawkeye. it’s what inspired the movie logan, which is objectively speaking the only good x-men movie (do not come for me, i watched those movies for the first time in release date order like last month ago, and i am lowkey way more into the x-men than i am the rest of the marvel heroes, save for like agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.). i also received a package in the mail containing the fifth book in one of my favorite series: the witchlands series by susan dennard. oh my god, and i started the wayward children series by seanan mcguire and it’s so good. and i’m waiting on two more books in the mail, both for my bookclub.

i am so content with it too. i am doing it because i love reading and it brings me joy. plus, who doesn’t love some easy escapism? same reason i love video games.

speaking of which, i gotta start a farm with some friends. there have been so many updates and i haven’t played the pc version of it in so long. maybe i’ll convince a few of them to let me stream it. that, and palworld. i’m just not sure when i should start streaming; it feels like i have so much left to do, but it also feels like i’m not doing anything at all. so i might have to try streaming for 3-4 hours on my days off, with or without friends. my problem when it comes to streaming is that i’m my own boss, so not following through with a schedule doesn’t really have any consequences. but i really gotta get that started, otherwise i feel like i’ll never get around to it. it certainly would be nice to eventually make some extra money off of it. thought i wanted to be a val streamer, but i shockingly haven’t even really touched the game since i moved into my new place.

izzy and i watched four movies in a day on friday: mr. and mrs. smith, bullet train, baby driver, and everything everywhere all at once. all of them were so good, although everything everywhere all at once was… interesting. like the whole overall message of it is great and everything, like we love old traditional parents learning how to accept the things they can’t control about their child, but like… the buttplugs. wow. what a scene. (and that is all i’ll say on that; if you know, you know.)

i’m working on a linktr.ee with all my currently active and soon-to-be active accounts, which includes tumblr, discord, snapchat, and twitch. i was thinking about making a patreon, but i feel like i should gather an audience before i attempt managing another account. i already hate social media as it is which is why i only have what i have… we’ll see where it goes.

anyway, it was a solid weekend. i’m still tired, but i did drink quite a bit at a party last night and now i’ve got five days of work ahead of me, and my coworkers alone make that exhausting. but i’ve got lots of reading and writing to do to keep myself relaxed in between moments of masking (totally gonna be the name of my autobiography), especially once the new bookclub pick arrives. i’ll try not to be too miserable by tuesday.

[aching-tummies]

Oil and Milkshake

Happy (belated) Easter ^^

Life's been pretty hectic for me in the last week or so and I haven't had time to write about it until now.

Anyway...I think stuff started around Tuesday, April 4? Things at work were getting hectic because some coworkers were demanding to trade/pawn shifts off (to me) last-minute because they decided then and there that they wanted to attend Easter events. So...schedule is thrown out of whack and I'm picking up hours here and there as well as being told that boss is cutting my regular hours because he doesn't expect the weekend to be busy (I ended up with net-gains due to picking up all the shifts everyone else was dropping, so not too salty about the cuts). Welp, I was already dealing with the beginnings of a stressy belly around that day. I was looking forward to getting my errands done and using my one day off to rest up at home. Relatives pulled a fast one on us again, telling us with about 6 hours notice that they were coming into town and expected to stay the weekend at our place etc. 6 hours notice. At least 4 of which I had initially planned to sleep my stress and exhaustion away. So...yeah...got up bright and early to start whipping the house and guest-areas into shape for their stay (the guest area is usually a storage/laundry-folding area for those of us that live here when there are no guests).

With the relatives staying over, our usual diet got thrown for a loop. These relatives insist on take-out and always end up getting copious amounts of breaded/fried foods. So...yeah...that's all that was on offer at the house and in our fridge for 3 days. Fried chicken, fried squid, reheated fried something-that-may-have-started-life-as-a-potato. Honestly...the only greens I saw all weekend were the lettuce leaves fast-food joints use in their TV advertising. Yeah...needless to say that my stressy-belly turned into an upset one really quickly over Easter. To top it all off, Easter chocolate was going on sale and anyone that knows me knows that I never miss an opportunity to score some cheap chocolate. So...all weekend my poor belly became a vat of fried, oily food, and chocolate.

Come Monday morning, the relatives were gone and so was the fried hell that had taken up residence in our fridge all weekend. At this point my belly was just a constant ball of upset and I knew I'd have to work with the churning orb going at it for a couple of days...so I decided to try and salvage what I could of a healthier diet. I ate instant oatmeal and have been doing my best to ensure every meal I take in has at least 2 kinds of vegetables in it.

Anyway...my days off are coming up, and because I intend to rest and relax during them, I decided to run my errands immediately after work. I had some things to print off (graphic organizers...some for work 'cuz I'm in charge of training new hires so I create graphic organizers/charts to help trainees quickly find information rather than having to look all over the place or ask someone every 3 seconds). So...I went to go get those printed off and decided that I would treat myself seeing as it's the end of my work-week.

I went to a nearby food-court and tried out a new-to-me place, got a donair wrap with some roasted potatos to go with it. There were onions, tomato, and actual leafy lettuce on it...three whole chunks of lettuce, which is more than my tummy has seen in a week. I walked around the mall for a little while, hoping to settle my stomach 'cuz it was still pretty upset from the weekend and I wasn't sure if the new-to-me food would play nice. The potatoes were actually extremely oily. There was a noticeable pool of orange-y oil left on the plate after I finished the potatoes. As if I needed any more oil in my poor tummy.

To *really* treat myself, I splurged and bought myself a milkshake from an ice-cream place.

I don't know if it's the oily potatoes or the milkshake, or the combination of both...but my stomach's been more upset in the last 2 hours than it has been all week.

I got through 1/5th of the milkshake while waiting for my bus to come home. After getting off the bus, I still had half a hill to climb before I'd arrive at home and my belly was so uncomfortable. It wasn't aching...but there was a sickly, sticky feeling in it. It felt like my throat and esophagus was squeezing tightly together, preventing something from coming up. I felt a constant urge to burp, but every time I tried, I got nothing, despite feeling a pressure in my throat and in my diaphragm. Halfway home, I tasted something sour at the back of my throat.

I got home and made a beeline for my room. I recently purchased a cheap stethoscope to indulge in my own stomach's noises. Unfortunately, it hasn't been very vocal since I bought the stethoscope. Anyway...I immediately set it up on my stomach, prodding it into various areas of my stomach.

There weren't any loud noises, even with the stethoscope, but I could hear a constant burbling...like something was perpetually foaming within my guts.

Even as I type this, I still feel that nagging pressure telling me something needs to come up and having nothing actually coming up when I try.

Honestly...if I had a partner into this kind of stuff, I actually think I would welcome them being rough with my belly--anything to make this nagging "gonna come up" feeling disappear. I don't puke easily and can count on my fingers the number of times I've ever actually thrown up...maybe some manual encouragement would help? ;) In either case, feel free to take this as an invite/jumping off point for RP-Asks/Starter/Lite.

[rust-bearer]

I’m sorry you can’t go a day without being bombarded by zombie au prompts (sort of). I’ve got, like, three or four assignments to finish that’ll determine whether or not I pass this semester, but what matters right now is clogging your inbox with zombie au First Aid content (in other words, technically texaid content with a little Aid here and there.) so, I hope you enjoy the food:

1. National parks are honestly really nice. Campsites, grills (depending on the park), bathroom stalls/showers, spiders the size of your face… First Aid likely realizes by now that he being stalked, but Vortex is at least slightly discreet about it. All hell breaks loose when the two of them end up cornered in one of the bathroom stalls, however. It’ll be hours before the zombie that appeared (seriously, where do they COME from?) will get tired and move on, and it really doesn’t help that Vortex slammed the stall door on the thing’s face. Talk about blunt force trauma—assuming zombies can suffer stuff like that. Well… at least it’s one of the larger stalls First Aid has seen, and Vortex doesn’t make awful company.

2. First Aid has a soft spot for kids. It doesn’t help to have grown up in a too-small house with older and younger brothers, which left him in a weird back-and-forth between being the babysitter and the one babysat, but he’s got a knack for kids. (TW CHILD DEATH) As such, he doesn’t find it all that surprising that the first place he would’ve looked for survivors was the neighboring households and abandoned hospital wards. Between running contamination protocols and watching children skipping down the streets and enjoying the summer sunshine (before everything had gone to shit, that is), First Aid grew accustomed to determining—unfortunately—which children would have been likely to be left behind, whether out of negligence or awful, awful parenting. The old church building he’s managed to hold down as a temporary shelter works well enough, given the spacious areas for children to run and play and plenty of pews for exhausted kids to sleep. Still… when he starts to see the first signs of infection in a young boy from his section of the hospital ward, First Aid gets a taste of the other end of the spectrum that comes with caring for such sweet, innocent beings. It was for the good of the rest of the children, he told himself. But after that night, First Aid didn’t eat or sleep for an entire week. It still haunts him sometimes, still wakes him up at night, the peaceful look on the little boy’s face as he succumbed to wounds First Aid couldn’t even see.

3. He was never all that tech-savvy, but First Aid does miss the Internet. He mostly misses FaceTiming one of his brothers every morning, only for the rest of them to crash the phone call with questions about his job and the weather and his love life (“what do you mean you haven’t been laid in weeks? What you waiting for, Aid??”) and his eating habits and just…. Everything, everything. Sometimes he’ll lay awake at night while the other survivors sleep restlessly about the church, staring at the cracked screen of his cell phone and wishing that somehow, by some miracle, the screen would light up with another incoming voice message from one of his brothers. Any of them, really. He just wants to see their faces one more time, here their voices again.

4. Once he’s managed to get over the shock of living on a post-apocalyptic world, First Aid usually takes thing in stride. He still finds himself breaking down here and there over the crippling realization that his purpose in life and ability to help and heal have been stripped from him in the most painful way, but he deals as best he can. He’s taken pleasure in the small things, like tending to a small (dying) garden in the back of the church building. Once he gets to the farm with Vortex, he’s given a much bigger garden, too, which is… well, it’s nice. He’s never been much of a green thumb, but he can manage to grow a tomato plant that doesn’t look all that deformed! Vortex still laughed at the first harvest he managed to produce, though.

5. Simple things like planning a shopping spree and gathering supplies for the remaining survivors of his town (the numbers are dwindling quickly, which scares him), become less and less stressful over time. Eventually, First Aid even ends up forming a sort of routine with Vortex, who seems to have memorized his shopping patterns to the second and always, always shows up just as First Aid is browsing the granola section. Every time. He usually brings along one of his brothers, discussing some strange plans about gathering fishing line to “harvest the stock from the farm’s pond,” whatever… whatever that means. Well, First Aid doesn’t have much to do in the meantime, so he joins them once he’s gathered his own supplies.

6. Between the remaining survivors of the apocalypse, First Aid (and others) quickly realize that “normal” isn’t ever going to be a thing for them again. After some back and forth, and some intense convincing on his part, he manages to move everyone into Swindle’s the Combaticons’ farm. It’s a tight fit, at first, but the group of them quickly get into a groove of forming their own personal commune, as Swindle so lovingly refers to it. As it seems, there are quite a few old town people who know just enough about hunting, fishing, canning, and personal grooming to teach anyone who doesn’t know. Swindle is rather stubborn at first, preferring to use the remaining supplies he has lying around that used to be considered “high quality,” but once he realizes that the septic tank won’t clean itself and that water purified from iodine is just as safe as bottled water, he begins to warm up to the idea of living off the land.

Hhhhh my brain is tired now, I guess that’s all it’s got. I hope these little ideas give you some more inspiration, assuming you’re not going through a “please god no more zombie au ideas” moment, and… yeah, I’ll be back with more sometime soon! Or not, I don’t know yet lol.

I love seeing the zombie au stuff it fuels me. It’s just so interesting to think about. Just thinking about everything you own in your house right now, then suddenly you don’t- First Aid might be able to go back to his home, maybe not. Maybe someone else is living there now. Dying there. Every picture on the wall and nicknack is like a ghost story, except the ghost is still living, wandering around, hungry.

And it also helps that swindle and the others provide a different perspective to everything than what you the viewer might be seeing. Maybe he even makes a racket selling candles- everything probably reeks of death and decay, but for today only, you can buy a fine quality candle that definitely wasn’t taken from some dead schmucks house. Just give me about… 3 days of food or so.

I do kind of see First Aid is being a pediatric doctor/nurse (still not sure what route I want to go). So he’s going to be the kind of guy who insists on taking care of children- in a time where it literally is a net negative to do so. Kids cry, BABIES cry, crying attracts zombies- and they eat so much too, and can’t DO much. Yet First Aid is the guy who ran back to the hospital after he realized all the neonatal babies were still likely there, or what about all the other patients-

But a hospital is ground zero for infections. And it’s almost free food for zombies, immobile people who can’t even defend themselves. Maybe First Aid finds something. Maybe he’s too late. Maybe he’s just in time to see the horror. It’s all very interesting!

[marriedtolike18fictionalmen]

Our Infinity of Stars (pt. 4)

Hey y'all!! Sorry its a bit later than usual, I totally forgot to do the timed posting thing. My bad lol

on an unrelated note:

ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY (gonna be honest, it wasn't the best one yet, but def not the worst...)

Anywho, as always, I appreciate you guys so much, hope y'all like this part, I'm close to done writing the story, just need to get it chunked out for posting.

Enjoy lovelies!!

After a long day, everyone gathered on a rock on the far end of the beach furthest down from the village, a place all the older kids liked to hang out. Tuk had wanted to go home, exhausted from the play and swimming of the day. The rest of us, The older Sully kids, my siblings and I, the metkayina kids, all started trading stories of our lives.

“Okay, I am dying to ask.” I had turned to where Neteyam sat across the fire from me. “How in the hell did you become Toruk Makto? The full story, not the half-assed version from the other day.”

A proud grin slid across his features as he launched into the story, sitting down next to me.

“I was in the midst of battle. The clan next to ours had been relentless and were closing in. My ikran, Seze, may the great mother reunite our souls, had been shot down. As I fell, a great shadow, the last shadow, dove after me. He extended a kuru towards me and safely got us to the rockface. I was, of course, terrified. I was injured, couldn’t walk, and he knew that. As I tried to hide away in a small cave I knew he couldn’t follow me into, he stepped in my path and hissed before extending the kuru again.

When we flew back into that battle, the last big battle, it rallied the spirits of the warriors. We somehow drove away those cowards. They haven’t been too much trouble since.

Anywho, it was easier to get more stuff to bring with us when we had Takutai with us, bigger back and stronger wings and all.”

The group stared wide-eyed at him, and I shared a smirk with Adib. “Somebody needs to be more original, one of the best warriors of his generation, Toruk Makto, became so the same way his mother became Palulukan Makto, c’mon ‘Teyam, be more original.”

“Somebody’s jealous.” He chided, wrinkling his nose at me.

Everyone laughed, and a new group of the other teenagers neared, introducing themselves as they sat down.

“Toruk Makto, that’s a huge title.” One of the girls, Leilani, commented to Neteyam, a hand brushing over his arm.

He pushed her touch away politely, “Yes, I just did what my people needed from me.”

I looked back towards the beach where a training party had just returned, their raucous laughter carrying over even the crash of the waves against the rock.

Everyone shifted as they neared, making room for everyone. I cringed as Ralak situated himself in between myself and Neteyam, knowing I was in for a long evening.

“Rani, what was the salve you gave me earlier? It worked wonders.” Adib’s voice drifted across the fire to me.

“It’s dapophet and a mixture of other roots.” I responded, happy for the distraction. “A recipe from back home, but with the numbing properties of some other plants from around here.”

Adib nodded, and Ninat started asking me more about the mixture. I shifted to go and sit next to her, shooting a small smile across to Neteyam and the Sullys as I went.

We talked more about our shared passion in healing, and sometime along Kiri joined in our conversations alongside Tsireya. The other girls formed their own group and the boys wandered off to do their own thing. After yawning for the fifth time in a row, I finally stood. “Sorry guys, I’m getting really tired. Gonna head home.”

The girls all agreed, and as a group we all walked back towards the village, separating once we entered it with soft goodnights and smiles.

“Princess! Wait up!” I turned to see Neteyam jogging up the beach towards me, and I stopped to let him catch up. “I’m surprised you're still out and about. Last I remember you had a strict curfew of two hours past eclipse.”

Laughing I replied, “Yeah, well that was your curfew, and I didn’t want to have to hang around your fan club after you were gone.”

He shoved me lightly. “They were not a fan club. More like stalkers who ruined half my solo-hunts.”

We continued to banter, stopping a bit away from the other mauris so we could continue talking without worrying about waking anybody, sitting down on the beach in a small cove area just around the corner.

“The water is so beautiful at night. I thought the forest had nice lakes and whatnot, but this is breathtaking.” Neteyam breathed, eyes focused on the water swirling around his ankles. He smirked as he looked over to where I had splashed the water to make the algae glow brighter. “Baby legs. You have to sit so much closer to the water to make your ankles reach.”

I feigned insult. “It’s not my fault your legs are like a gazillion feet tall!”

He laughed and splashed me lightly, not saying anything.

“I always preferred the stars.” I stood and moved back from the water’s edge, to where no trees would obscure my vision. “You can always find the same ones no matter where you are.” Neteyam laid down on the sand next to my feet, patting the spot next to him silently.

I sat down, immediately shivering at the cool breeze that had stirred up from across the waves, and Neteyam pulled me into his side, an arm around me to keep me there and awakening butterflies in my stomach. “How the hell do you always run so warm?” I asked, calming my voice and wrapping an arm around his middle to stay in his warm embrace.

He rubbed a large hand up and down my side, trying to create friction. “Not my fault you always run so cold.” he mumbled into my hair. I played with the beads of his songcord, rubbing my thumb on the reef shell he’d strung on to the end.

He shifted a little under me, and I glanced up. “My arm’s going a little numb.” He explained.

I shifted onto his chest, “Better for me, I get to be warmer.” I muttered against the necklace he always wore. A chuckle sounded through his chest, and I smiled at the sound, ignoring the tingling in my gut. We stared up at the stars, and I let my eyes slide shut as I listened to the rumble of his voice through his chest as he told me his father’s stories of life beyond the stars.

~ᐧ~ “What the hell is going on here?” I awoke to see Ralak standing over me, hands on his hips as he scowled at Neteyam.

I blinked the spots from my vision as I gathered my surroundings. “Shit, we fell asleep.” I groaned to Neteyam. He hummed in response, offering a hand to pull me up.

I saw as Ralak straightened up as if he was about to start something, so I made up some excuse of Tsahik Ronal needing Neteyam and I today.

We did end up at the tent, but there was no help the Tsahik needed, so we decided to go search out the other Sullys, who were sure to be with my brother. “I’m not going to go looking for Rina or Ateyo, I’m sure they’ll show up soon.”

“Maybe they’re all at the beach, they mentioned really liking that one spot with the shade one time.”

I nodded, and we set off in that direction.

“Aw, look at his little baby tail!” I saw the Metkayina boys circling around Lo’ak and Adib, who were pushing their way out of their grip.

“Leave us alone!” I saw Kiri standing off to the side, and without a second thought, both Neteyam and I ran towards the group.

Neteyam strode over to Aonung, shoving him off of Lo’ak as I put myself in front of Kiri, both of us knowing Adib can very well hold his own, but also that Lo’ak was young and angry, and Kiri was more of a pacifist.

“Leave them alone.” Neteyam growled out. He pushed a finger into Aonung’s chest, “back off.” He warned.

Aonung stepped back, hands raised in surrender.

“Good choice. And from now on, I’m gonna need you to respect my sister.” Neteyam looked at the group, making sure each heard his words.

The Metkayina boys had backed away, and I turned to see Kiri sticking her tongue out at them. I smirked, inclinding my head to signal them to leave. Neteyam pushed Lo’aks head as he turned, and I stood next to him, waiting for Lo’ak to start walking. I glanced back at Neteyam, who again tried to get Lo’ak to leave.

Lo’ak got into Aonung’s face, balling up a fist. I glanced up at the sky before making eye contact with Adib. “Hey, ‘Dib, I think Kiri wanted to ask you something.”

He nodded and walked away from the group, knowing it’d be too messy for him to get more involved. By the time he reached her, Lo’ak had already knocked Aonung to the ground, and Aonung was launching himself at Lo’ak’s legs.

They scuffled, and then one of Aonung’s goons slapped Lo’ak in the face with his tail.

Neteyam scratched his head, and joined in the fight. “You’re stupid!” Kiri shouted from next to Adib. Lo’ak was screeching about his tail, and was dragging a whining Aonung by the ear as he was pulled back. I giggled as I watched the fight, and after a few minutes saw that the Sully’s were outnumbered.

“That’s enough now!” I tried to stop them, but of course I was ignored. With an exaggerated salute to Adib and Kiri, I stepped into the fray and tried again to get their attention. Aonung tried shoving me out of his way, and within a second he was on his back holding his nose and curled in a ball. The fighting ceased, and I brushed off the sand from my leg as I straightened up. “Are you done?” I raised a brow at all the boys, then cringed as I heard Jake’s voice boom from behind me. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

~ᐧ~ “What was the one thing I asked? The one thing!” Jake had diffused the situation and was now shouting at the three of us, the boys sporting some cuts, bruises, and scrapes while I had only bruised knuckles.

We all hung our heads and answered, “Stay out of trouble.”

Neteyam stepped up, myself right on his heels. “It was my fault.”

Jake narrowed his eyes, ears twitching backwards. “I don’t think so. You gotta stop takin’ the heat for this knucklehead.”

Lo’ak stepped forward, “Look Dad, Aonung was Picking on Kiri. Called her a freak.”

Jake sighed, then sent us off to go make peace. He grabbed Neteyam and I before we could walk out. “So what’d the other guys look like?”

“Worse.”

“That’s good.”

Neteyam grinned, glancing over at me. “Alot worse.”

Jake sent us off, clearly looking to find Kiri to make sure she was okay. “C’mon “Teyam. Let’s fix you up.” The two of us ducked into my tent, and I grabbed a bowl of clean water and a towel to wipe up his scratches. “Sit on the counter, it’ll be easier for everybody.”

Neteyam compiled, and I settled myself between his legs as I started to carefully wipe at his wounds, crouching down to get a nasty one on his calf. I worked my way up, changing towels as I moved from his legs to his arms, and then again to his torso.

“Did it hurt to get these?” Neteyam asked as he traced the tattoo that ran from the side of my ribcage dowm my thigh, resembling the markings on Syura. His eyes were glued to my skin as he felt the slight raised texture of the marking.

I smiled, “At first, yes. But I had already gotten a few,” I shifted to show him the art on the inside of my bicep, “It’s an ikran made in the traditional Metkayina style.” I explained and his fingers traced the lines of it too.

One arm wrapped around to trace my spine, “And this one?” He whispered as he finally looked up at me.

I wrinkled my nose, “That one wasn’t very fun. I made it really simple on purpose.”

The hand that was still resting on my hip twirled me around, and he traced the linework of the simple pattern that ran down my back. “Your songcord?” Neteyam asked, resting his chin on my shoulder.

I nodded, and he leaned back to once again feel the swirls underneath his touch. “Your birth stuck between two clans, your siblings…” He trailed off, and I looked over my shoulder to a furrow on his brow. “Is this one Syura?”

“Mhm. Syura means energy, so energy symbols kinda in a very abstract shape of wings.”

His finger trailed to the next shape, “being old enough for curfew to be pushed back but still sneaking out for stargazing?”

“It was a fun experience!”

He huffed out a laugh, “Whatever you say, princess. Getting ranked as a top warrior, becoming part of my family, completing your tsakarem training, and this one?”

His hands had stopped on my lower back, near a large diamond shape. “That’s for when Ateyo officially stole my sister away. The next one too. Evil twins, ugh. Gotta hate ‘em.”

Neteyam grinned, “yeah, I can’t believe he won that bet.”

“What bet?”

Neteyam gaped for a moment, before sighing. “We kinda made a bet when we were like 12 over which one of us will get a mate first. I had to do any punishments Ateyo got for two months after he won.”

“And what if you’d won?” I asked, twisting around to face him.

“He’d have had to teach the soon-to-be warriors for two months. The ones who had decided that they already were ready to go off on their hunts and everything.”

I laughed, leaning into his chest as his arms once again hooked around to rest on the last marking on the chain. “And this one?”

“That’s for when we joined the Metkayina clan.” I pulled back to reach around him and grab a new cloth. “Close your eyes.” I softly instructed.

He complied, resting his hands on my hips again as I dabbed cool water on the black eye already forming. He hissed as I got to a particularly sensitive part, tapping twice on my hip in our silent signal of ‘it’s alright’ at my quick apology.

“Okay, you can open.” I stepped back to grab another, gentler salve for the cuts on his face. I applied the salve and lightly blew on it to help with the sting when I saw his face twitch in pain. “Must you always put others first? You protect your family, sure. Take the blame for Lo’ak every time, fine. But you don’t have to silence your pain just for me. I swear, I don’t feel bad in the slightest about making your wounds sting.”

Neteyam’s lips pulled into a wide grin, and this time he didn’t try to hide his wince as it pulled on the cut situated there. “And why’s that, Paskalin?”

I grabbed his chin and started wiping at the wound. “Paskalin? You haven’t called me that in ages.”

“Well, you’re sweet, and you like berries, so ‘sweet berry’ is a fitting pet name. You never answered my question though.”

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed the salve. “Like I said, you like putting yourself in danger too much, and you put everyone and everything above your own needs. This is my little revenge.”

The side of his mouth I wasn’t working on quirked. “So basically your ‘v’ is for vendetta?”

I lightly slapped his bicep, laughing at his pouting expression. “Pretty much, yeah you could say that. But seriously though,” I grabbed his face to make sure he was hearing me. “Stop putting others above yourself.”

He raised a hand from my hip, holding up his last finger. “Pinky promise.”

“You do know those are practically legally binding, right?” I said, hooking my own ‘pinky’ with his.

“I know. And I also know you’ve gotta-” he pecked my cheek “seal it with a kiss.”

I scrunch my nose before lightly placing a kiss on his nose. “Happy?”

“It’ll do.” He hopped off the counter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

He strode to the entrance as I asked “What kind of business, exactly?”

He turned in the doorway as I gathered the towels from cleaning him up. “The kind where I ‘apologize’ and vaguely threaten that skawng for calling my sister a freak.”

I threw one of the towels at his head, which he deftly ducked and caught. “Nice try, paskalin!” He shouted as he walked away tossing the towel in his own mauri as he went.

“So you’re just fucking him now, huh?”

I turned to see Ralak’s tall frame standing right behind the side of my mauri, a disgusted look across his face.

“Were you eavesdropping the entire time?” I was shocked and backed away out of the entrance to my mauri

“Long enough to hear you kiss him. We ended things two months ago. They’ve been here a week at best. What-”

I had stopped listening, “I thought I told you to stay away from me.” I turned and started walking away, but his hand grabbed my wrist and stopped me, his face had morphed into one of pain.

“Please, ‘Rani. I asked you to be my mate, I proposed to you. Please don’t leave me like this. I can’t lose you.”

“You did the moment you went and slept with someone else the second we disagreed about something. I’m sorry you can’t live with your own actions, but that’s for you to figure out. Without me. Say hi to Leilani for me.” With this, I quickly walked the other direction from Ralak, not bothering to turn, the Tsahik always needs some kind of help. She’ll be able to stop Ralak as well, should he follow me.

[juniormint1125]

Worthy - Part 3 - Lee Minho x Reader

THIS PART CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT. PLEASE READ WITH THAT IN MIND.

Worthy

Lee Minho (Stray Kids) x Reader Summary: Y/N and Minho become embroiled in a tumultuous relationship as her place in the group is threatened by unexpected circumstances. Word Count: 6,507 Genre: angst, fluff, smut Warnings/Contains: cursing, nipple play, oral (Minho receiving), fingering

Chapter 4 - Breathlessly Lee Minho (Stray Kids) x Reader Summary: After Minho unexpectedly barged into your apartment, kissed you, then disappeared, you try to sort out your feelings. But when he returns to find his lost phone, you become even more confused. Word Count: 1,096 Genre: angst Warnings/Contains: sexual tension, kissing POV: Y/N

You stand staring at the door, unsure if what just happened was actually real. One minute you'd been overflowing with emotion, livid at Minho’s actions, and the next, you were left empty and abandoned by his abrupt retreat. You have no idea how long you’ve been standing there when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Felix’s voice snaps you back to the present. “Is everything okay? I didn’t hear any more yelling so I thought it would be safe to come out.” He attempts a smile.

You stare at him blankly, his words not sinking in. Blinking away your confusion, you stammer. “Oh...uh…he’s gone.”

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Let’s go back to bed.” You force yourself to smile. You can’t tell him what happened.

“Everything’s going to work out,” he assures you. You nod, desperate to believe it's true. Your entire life has been turned upside down in a matter of a few hours, and you can't fathom how anything could ever be normal again. Soon, you hear the steady rhythm of Felix’s breathing.

If you somehow survive the night, you'll have to face Minho whatever's been awakened between the two of you. Will you tell him that you were caught up in the moment, not having had a man’s attention for too long? Or are there more feelings underneath the surface? What about the line you drew? Could it be you had already crossed it before he even kissed you?

Faint rays of coral and salmon streak the horizon when your eyelids begin getting heavy. Your brain's exhausted and your body is aching for rest. You cuddle into Felix’s side, and he pulls you close, smiling in his sleep. You concentrate on the rise and fall of his chest until it lulls you to sleep.

It feels like you've only just fallen asleep when your phone wakes you. You're barely able to pry your eyes open. Squinting in the now gleaming sunlight, you grope for your phone to stop the noise. It's Chan.

“Hey!” He answers too cheerily. “I wanted to talk to you about our schedule for tomorrow. Are you free for lunch today?”

Reality hits you. You're no longer their assistant; you no longer have anything to do with their schedule. You have to tell Chan, but you can’t do it over the phone. You agree to meet him at one of your favorite restaurants near the company.

“Is everything okay?” he asks before hanging up. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I’m just tired." You try to make your voice sound cheerful, but you don't have the energy. Maybe a shower will help. You will yourself to move, dragging your body out of bed and forcing one foot in front of the other.

After a shower, you feel more optimistic. You sit in front of the mirror to comb your hair, when the doorbell rings. You throw your hair up quickly and sigh. It’s tempting to ignore it; you really don't feel like company. But, it rings again. Whoever it is, is not going to leave you alone. You tighten your robe and trudge to the door.

It’s Minho. You hadn’t expected to see him again so soon. He’s staring at the ground, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Uh, I didn’t want to bother you, but I think I left my phone here.”

“Oh, I haven’t seen it," you reply. "You can come in and look.” You step back, allowing him room to enter. He hesitates before stepping inside.

You stand to the side silently while he looks around. You look everywhere but in his direction. You’re too angry to even look at him. You notice the sun reflect off something partially hidden under the couch.

“I think it’s there." You bend under the couch to look closer. “Found it!” you call. When you stand back up, you're face to face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” His voice trails off as he backs away. “I should go.”

You nod in acknowledgement but make no attempt to show him out. He doesn't move either. It’s a struggle for you to keep silent. You want answers about last night. But you’re terrified of what those answers might be.

“I’m really sorry,” he apologizes. “Last night, you were right. I had too much to drink, and I should have listened when you told me to go home.” He's quiet again, still refusing to look in your eyes. A curt apology is apparently all he has to offer you.

“Don’t worry, it’s already forgotten,” you mutter. He kicks at a spot on the carpet. The silence is too much for you. “What do you want from me, Minho?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. You want to shake him and scream. How can he be so uncaring? A million questions run through your mind, but you refuse to be the one to ask. You cross your arms and stare him down, hardening your heart.

He walks forward and you back away instinctively. He hurt you. You won’t let him hurt you again. “Stop,” you order as your back hits the wall.

But he doesn't stop. He closes the last bit of distance between you. As you put your hand out to stop him, his lithe fingers close over your wrist. Your brain screams for you to run away, but you just stand there in his grip.

“I’m sorry that I upset you. It’s just, I thought you might hate me, because of last night.”

“I don’t hate you, Minho. I just don’t understand why you ran out after...”

He shakes his head. “I was confused. And I was surprised…by how I felt.”

“Exactly how did you feel?” you question him. He finally looks into your eyes.

“Unexpectedly.” His hand comes to rest on the wall behind you, his face inches from yours. “I should apologize. I acted…inappropriately.”

His voice is thick, his eyes dark. He’s gauging his next move on your reaction. So, you stare back, not breaking eye contact. If he wants something from you, it's up to him to make the move. You're not going to make it easy for him; you’re not going to let yourself be vulnerable only to have your heart stepped on again.

He searches your eyes, but your expression remains stoic. He leans in, agonizingly slowly, offering you every opportunity to stop him. Time stands still as his lips connect with yours. His hand presses against the small of your back and you shiver as he pulls you close.

“Do you want this?” he whispers breathlessly.

Chapter 5 - Arms Lee Minho (Stray Kids) x Reader Summary: You’re left with the decision to give in to Minho or give him a piece of your mind. Word Count: 1,850 Genre: smut Warnings/Contains: nipple play, oral (Minho receiving), fingering POV: Minho

I had never felt more anxious in my life, waiting for her answer. I couldn’t tell how she felt, unable to find any trace of emotion in her eyes. But I had never wanted anything so much, so I had taken the chance.

Her palm caressed my cheek, coaxing my lips back to hers. She breathed a hushed yes into the kiss, the sound deafening. Sweet orange blossoms and fragrant lilac permeated my senses. My hands moved lower, and she began pushing me backward, down the hall to her bedroom.

She pulled me onto the bed. “Last chance to back out,” I smirked.

She rolled her eyes and grinned as I caressed her lip with my thumb. I kissed her, devouring her with nips and pecks. She hummed in satisfaction as I used my tongue to trace circles around her earlobe. I eased her robe from one shoulder, and trailed my kisses lower, skimming the tops of her breasts.

The silk of her robe was luxurious against my skin, but I wanted to feel her. I untied the knot and slid the thin fabric from her shoulders revealing smooth, pale flesh beneath. I tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and whispered softly. “Beautiful.”

She answered me with the same soft, sweet, and sturdy giggle that I loved, and instinctively, my lips curled into a smile. “I love that sound.”

“Kiss me,” she cooed.

I gladly obliged, unable to get enough. She pulled me close, her lips eagerly parting to let my tongue explore. I nipped at her lip teasingly, then moved to kiss her neck. My teeth lightly grazed her skin, leaving small red ovals in their wake. I wanted to leave my mark on every part of her so that she wouldn’t forget this moment. I knew that I never would.

With the tip of my finger, I traced circles across her now exposed body. Goosebumps rose with each pass, and she shuttered against me. Heat radiating from her flesh made my body tighten, my desire for her rising higher.

She pulled at the hem of my shirt. “I want to feel you. Off.”

Her passion made my confidence soar. She gripped my shoulders, pushing me into the pillows. The warmth of her core pressed against my hardening member. She smiled as she drummed her fingers across my abs.

“Perfection,” she whispered.

I blushed, unaccustomed to her compliments. She planted tender kisses on my lips, my cheeks, and my neck. But as I reached out to caress her breasts, she pulled away.

“Uh uh…” she scolded playfully. She pinned my wrists against the mattress, her grip firm as she went back to her kisses. I could easily have resisted, but I was aroused at her display of power. I relaxed my arms and let her take charge.

Tongue and teeth played across my skin. As she nibbled across my stomach, her fingers deftly unfastened the button of my jeans, making quick work of discarding the fabric. Her lips came back to meet mine, her tongue coaxing them apart. Her nipples were hard as her breasts pressed against my chest.  as her fingers again drummed across my stomach, this time traveling under the waistband of my boxers.

“These too,” she grinned.

She slid them off and tossed them to join the other discarded clothes on the floor. I was exposed and vulnerable, with no way to hide from her gaze. Her eyes gave nothing away, and anxiety threatened to overtake me. My inexperience taunted me. I was unsure of myself, wondering if she would see me as attractive, wondering if she would think I was enough.

“Do you approve?” I asked, trying to sound confident.

“Very much,” she chuckled.

It seemed like she moved in slow motion. Her hands barely grazed my skin, fueling the already blazing fire throughout my body. When her hand finally reached my cock, I moaned in pleasure. Slow strokes traveled up and down the length, then she pulled away. A mischievous grin formed on her face and she moved closer. The warmth of her breath created goosebumps along my skin. I fought hard against the urge to stroke her most sensitive places.

She used her tongue, meandering down my length toward the tip of my cock. Small circles widened and her lips closed around me. I gripped the sheets to stop myself from touching her. Her mouth slid up and down my shaft, varying her pace until I couldn’t stand anymore.

“My turn,” I said as I pushed against her shoulders. She was adorably confused. I grabbed her wrists, then maneuvered her around, and pinned her to the bed. Holding her hands above her head, I took her nipple into my mouth, sucking voraciously. The moans that escaped her lips made my cock throb. I tried my best to ignore it. I wanted to taste every part of her before I claimed her body for my own.

I left her breasts behind, kissing my way to her core. I looked into her eyes as I eased her legs apart. She was beautifully splayed out, her back arching as my lips travelled closer to her core. When I touched her clit, she began to unravel. My tongue flicked against the hardened bud, and she whimpered my name.

Hearing her passionately calling my name unlocked a desire in me. I wanted to be the only one whose name she moaned for the rest of our lives. The thought of another’s on her lips made me furious. I trailed my fingers up the insides of her thigh, inching closer to her core. Finally, I slid two fingers inside.

She moaned my name again. “Do you like that, kitten?” I asked.

“So much, Minho.”

She drew me back to her lips, kissing me tenderly. I marveled at how her kiss made me feel, safe and wanted, both strange and wonderful. I lay down on the bed beside her. Propping myself up with my elbow, I faced her. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. How did I not notice before?”

She grinned and rolled her eyes at me. “You don’t have to flatter me,” she kidded. “You’ve already got me naked.”

“I mean it, Y/N. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Her face flushed red, and she looked away. I touched her cheek to make her look at me again. I smiled and leaned in to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me close. She drew my thigh between hers. Her arousal dripped from inside her as she ground her hips against me.

I rolled her nipple between my fingers, and she whimpered, calling my name. I pushed my hand between her legs, sliding my finger back inside. “So ready for me,” I grinned, slipping in another.

She nodded, looking into my eyes.

“Are you sure?” I asked her. I needed to know that she really wanted this, that she really wanted me. She nodded again and I slid my fingers out, causing her to sigh.

"So impatient," I smirked.

Our tongues played together as she wrapped her legs around my waist pulling me to her. I rubbed the tip of my cock against her entrance and shuttered. I eased my cock inside, her wetness offering little resistance. She moaned softly, tugging my hair. I rocked back and forth, savoring the feeling of being inside her for the first time. I thrusted slowly, but with force and she whimpered with each one. Her fingernails clawed at my back and I quickened my pace. I pounded into her, consumed with desire, and her body jerked with each thrust.

She pushed against my biceps, and I let her roll me over. Positioned astride my lap, she rolled her hips in slow circles, pulling my cock deeper inside her warmth. I pawed at her breasts pinching and twisting her nipples, pulling moan after moan from her lips. Bucking my hips to meet each of her thrusts, I buried my fingers into her waist.

“Don’t stop,” I breathed into the silence.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She arched her back as she rolled her hips, the angle causing her to gasp. I quickened my pace, eager to make her happy. A few more thrusts and I reached my peak, my body spasming. I pulled her close, our tongues tangling again as I rode out my high.

She peppered light kisses on my lips, and I smiled contentedly. She collapsed against me, curling into my side, and laid her head on my chest. I smoothed the hair back from her forehead and kissed it softly.

“That was…unexpected,” she giggled.

I squeezed her tight against me, not wanting the closeness we had experienced to end. We lay in each other’s arms, legs still tangled, the only sound was our breathing. I felt peaceful. Having her next to me felt like home, the home I had been searching for since my childhood. As she lay nestled in my arms, I felt happy.

It seemed ridiculous that I hadn’t seen the depth of my feelings. How could I not have realized how much I cared about her? I had been in denial. I’d been afraid to be vulnerable. My past had taught me that I needed to hold the power. That was the only way to keep from getting hurt. My need to be in control had kept me from realizing what was really happening. Now that I realized how I felt, I knew I didn’t want to go back to the way things had been before. I wanted her to be mine. I couldn’t lose her. She meant too much to me.

“I love you,” I blurted into the silence.

“Minho…” Her voice trailed off. She sat up to look at me, and before I turned away, a look I couldn’t decipher flashed in her eyes.

My heart jerked in my chest. I knew I had made a mistake. How could I have been so stupid? Of course, she didn’t love me. Why would she, after all my atrocious behavior? I couldn’t believe I was naïve enough to think someone as perfect as her might care for someone as messed up as me.

I wasn’t going to become an object of pity or a badge of shame. I needed to get away before she said something that would hurt me. I couldn’t stay and face the ruin I had created. I wanted my memory of us to remain unsoiled. I jumped from the bed and grabbed my clothes. I ran for the bathroom to get dressed and get out. She called after me, but I couldn’t stop.

Once again, I found myself running away. I had dared to hope for happiness, but I would never be worthy. I would never be enough for her, so I had to protect myself. I couldn’t bear to hear her say she didn’t care about me. In my heart, I picked up another brick and started fortifying the wall that had begun crumbling as I had lain in her arms.

[kromabelle-art]

Whumptober 2022: Luken Roth

OC: Luken Roth

prompts used: no.1 “this wasn’t supposed to happen, no.4 waking up disoriented, no.7 silent panic attack, no.15 emotional damage, no.20 it’s been a long day, no.21 “you’re safe now”, no.28 anger born of worry, alt.7 protective, alt.8 made to watch, alt.15 tears

Seeing

The voice of his teacher faded into the background as Luken rested his head on his desk. He really needed to understand these equations, but his eyelids were heavy, and in no time at all, the world around him dissolved completely. A flash of white, and suddenly he was awake. But he wasn’t in the classroom. He wasn’t in school at all. Disoriented, Luken looked around, only to realize he was in the thick of the woods outside town, leaning up against a tree. It was happening again. Great.

Ever since he got his powers, Luken saw things. Visions of the past, premonitions, bits of truth. More truths when he opened his mind up to the possibilities. And then his power grew. Sometimes he wouldn’t just see things unfold, he’d be in it. Able to interact with the world he saw. It wasn’t long before he figured out what was really happening. He was travelling timelines. Seeing parallel worlds where someone made a decision differently, and watching as the consequences played out. Luken was glad to have these powers. If he could see how things went wrong in other worlds, maybe he’d be able to steer his own timeline in the right direction. But it wasn’t easy.

“I’m serious, Adrian!” A voice came from his left, shouting through the trees. “If you don’t stop following me, I will put you in a coma.”

That was Lilika’s voice. Not usually an unwelcome thing to hear, but bad because she would absolutely make good on her threat.

“Maybe if you stopped plotting behind everyone’s back, I would,” Adrian retorted. It sounded like they were getting closer.

“I haven’t done anything wrong!” she yelled back.

“Lilika?” he called out to her, hoping to prevent the argument from inevitably escalating.

“Luken?” There was a rustle of leaves, and Lilika rounded into view. She looked at him with an unreadable expression. “Were you waiting here for me?”

“Maybe,” he responded. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure, but it seemed probable. Lilika tilted her head, studying him. She looked so knowing sometimes, and Luken had no idea how she pulled it off. He was supposed to be the one with powers over knowledge and the like. Then again, he didn’t know the extent over her own powers.

Adrian came into view behind her, scowling when Luken made eye contact with him. No doubt, he was upset that he was suddenly outnumbered. Luken stared him down coldly for a few more moments before he finally caved and walked away with a scoff. Lilika was still watching Luken. Her hazel-green eyes locked with his own.

“What are you up to?” he asked softly.

“I might’ve found something really good. It could be a game-changer. I had thought about sharing it with the others but…”

“I get it. What is the something? Where is it?”

“It’s in Ireland. There’s a portal in the mountains that’ll take us there.” She paused. “That is if you’re coming with?”

“Of course.”

He followed her deeper into the woods until they reached the mountains. It was hours of hiking, but he didn’t really mind it by her side. And it helped when she used her powers to lift the exhaustion off his shoulders.

“We’re here.” She stopped them in front of a rockface with a large fissure running through it.

“This is the portal?”

Lilika looked back at him, then reached her hand into the fissure. The air in the gap shimmered and warped and her hand disappeared completely. She smiled at him, then stepped through and vanished. Luken followed without hesitation.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust as he stepped out into what appeared to be the ruins of a small village, long forgotten. This was, presumably, Ireland. Lush green everywhere, twisty trees, and rolling hills. Lilika was already walking off toward a small house that was mostly rubble. But peculiarly, the front door and frame were whole. She looked back at him, her hand hesitating on the doorknob.

“This should be it.” She said to him.

“The door?”

She shook her head. “What’s behind it.”

Luken looked at it, trying to use his powers to see what was past it. But no matter how hard he tried, his vision was blocked. Feeling uncertain, he stepped up next to his friend anyway. She turned the handle.

The old wooden door creaked open slowly, revealing behind it, a huge space beyond. A corridor sized for giants, bright, gleaming white. The walls stretched up into pure whiteness far above. At the end was an archway, and something in the room beyond. He followed her through the doorway, feeling nervous. Their footsteps echoed through the chamber as they crossed it. The more time they spent there, the more unnerved Luken felt. As they got closer, he looked carefully at the object past the arch. It was huge, hovering, and made of cubes. Like two large, blocky crosses intersecting each other, taller than they were wide. When they finally reached the archway, he realized there were words written on the stone above.

“Proceed if the venture suits you…” Lilika read out. “Well, yeah. I think it does.”

“Lilika…” he started, and she turned to him. “What is this thing supposed to do?”

“From what I heard,” she responded, sounding almost uncertain, “it grants us all the knowledge and understanding of our own domains, in relationship to the universe at large.”

“What does that mean?”

“If I’m right, it should unlock the full potential of our powers. I’d like to see if that’s true.” She turned and took another step, and Luken was about to follow, but they both noticed something at the same time. Another message in the stone, smaller, much closer to eye level, and clearly done by hand. Scratched right into the marble by some predecessor, the words: KNOWLEDGE DAMNS.

“Lilika, are you sure about this?”

“Your domain is knowledge. Do you feel damned?”

He said nothing. No matter how much he thought about it, his answer was always going to be a no. Even when his visions and his knowledge felt like a curse, he knew he needed it. If not to benefit him, then maybe to help her. She didn’t look back as she approached the strange floating shape, and reached out to it. But as soon as she touched it, everything changed.

The three-dimensional cross suddenly folded and started rapidly changing size and shape in midair. Lilika was thrown backward through the air by some unseen source, hitting the marble with a sickening crack. Luken rushed to her side immediately, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw she was still alive. But that relief didn’t last long. Her spine didn’t seem to be at the right angle, her gaze was distant and unfocused, and when he looked closely, he realized he could see reflections in her eyes of things that weren’t there. They flashed by so fast, he couldn’t get a read on a single thing. Just colors and shapes flickering by. This went on for a long time. The flashing images and unresponsiveness just didn’t seem to end. All he could do was hold her hand throughout it all.

And then, her eyes went back to normal for the smallest of moments before turning a bright, unnatural, yellow-green, with cat-eye slits that narrowed immediately. He’d seen her eyes like this before—they looked like this nearly every time she used her powers. Her spine snapped back into place as if it was never damaged. She sat up abruptly before turning away from Luken and puking on the gleaming white floor.

“Luken?” her voice was faint, but desperate.

“I’m right here.”

She turned to face him, and Luken startled at the sight of tears in her eyes. “I need your help.”

“What is it? What happened?”

She sniffled. “I saw the entirety of my domain in relation to the whole universe. Life. I saw the entire life of the universe. I saw everything.”

“It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’ve got you.” He held her close but she shook her head.

“It’s all still up there, in my head. Get it out. Please.”

Luken hesitated. He wanted so badly to help her, but he hadn’t practiced his powers over the mind that much. He could do it; he could erase the memories from her mind, theoretically. But if he fucked up, he could do a lot more damage than good.

“Luken, please.”

He took a deep breath, and placed his hand on her forehead. Closing his eyes, he could see bits and pieces of what she saw. The most beautiful moments alongside the most horrible. Letting out his breath slowly, he willed all the burdensome knowledge away. Lilika sighed.

“Thank you,” she murmured, but when she opened her eyes, they were still unnervingly yellow-green.

“Lilika, your eyes…”

She sighed again. “I think that thing did exactly what I wanted it to. It opened my powers completely. But… I think it opened that door permanently.”

“Meaning?”

She didn’t respond.

Luken was able to get her home safely after that, and they didn’t really bring it up afterwards. Days turned into months, and things got worse in their group. People kept taking sides, Adrian kept blaming things on Lilika. No one seemed happy at her new power-up. The worst was when Adrian and Lilika got in a bad enough fight that he shot a beam of pure death energy at her. Luken’s heart dropped, but Lilika seemed completely unaffected.

“Alright,” she said one day, “clearly, I’m not wanted here. I’ll just go.”

Lilika stormed off, and Luken chased after her, panicking. “That’s not true! I want you here!”

She whirled around. “It doesn’t matter! I mean, it does, but… I don’t belong here anymore, Luken. I’m sorry.”

“This is because of that thing you messed with that day, isn’t it?” Luken yelled, unable to keep it in anymore. “You’re too reckless, Lilika! All the signs were there that it was a bad idea, but you did it anyway.”

He felt bad for snapping, especially when she looked away, her eyes watering. But he was terrified to lose her.

“Luken,” she said softly, not looking at him. “I think I’m immortal.”

“What?”

“That thing. It forced the door to my powers wide open and I can’t close it. My domain is life, Luken. It makes sense.” She looked back up at him, clearly exhausted. “I’m not going to stick around and stay the same while you all grow old and die. I have to go.”

“Lilika…”

She shook her head and turned away. “I’ll see you at the end of the world.”

And then she was gone.

It took Luken hours to get to sleep that night. But when he did, he found himself in another vision. He was standing on dark cobblestone, bits of rubble around him. The cobblestone eventually ended, dropping off suddenly like a floating island. And all around, on every side, nothing but void. He heard something behind him, like humming. Turning around, he saw there was a person sitting cross-legged at the center of this island. The humming stopped, and the figure twisted to look at him.

“You came.” It was Lilika sitting there, looking just the same as he’d seen her earlier, and her eyes still yellow-green. She smiled at him. “I was getting worried.”

He sat down beside her, and before long at all, her head was on his shoulder.

“Lilika, where are we?”

“The end of the world. Just like I said.” Her voice was soft. Peaceful.

“This is what’s left of the universe?”

She nodded. “I’m the only reason there’s this much left, actually. But not for too much longer.”

“What do you mean?”

She didn’t answer, instead going back to humming. It sounded like a lullaby. After a while, she moved to lay down, her head in his lap, and he let her. She gazed out pensively at the void around them. There was nothing in the reflection of her eyes at all. Luken stroked her hair, not knowing what else to do. It felt like they stayed like that for hours, the disc of cobblestone around them slowly eroding and getting smaller, but Luken didn’t mind. He just wanted to keep holding her.

Eventually, there was barely enough world left for them both to sit on. The void was creeping closer and closer to their feet. Lilika looked up at him. Her eyes faded back to their normal, human, hazel-green. Her pupils became round again. He could see the reflection of his own face in her eyes, and she smiled.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.”

And then she closed her eyes, and went still. Tears started streaming down his face as he held her. But her body dissolved in seconds, and Luken watched as his own body became ghostly and transparent. The stone beneath him crumbled into nothing and he fell through the inky black. There was a white flash.

Luken woke with a start in the middle of his calculus classroom. The teacher was still droning on and someone was humming a lullaby next to him. He looked up and made eye contact with Lilika.

“Luken?” she whispered softly. “Are you alright?”

He noticed then; he was still crying. The classroom fell silent as everyone else seemed to notice. Luken wiped the tears away quickly, still reeling from what he just witnessed.

“Luken?” the teacher was addressing him now.

He stood up abruptly, all eyes on him, and grabbed his backpack. “I have to go.”

“Are you feeling sick?” the teacher tried to ask, but Luken was already gone, sprinting down the hallway.

[queennnnnnnn94]

Travel Tales Pt. 1

This thing started because I wanted to impress a man, yall.

Mid-December 2022, a few days after my birthday, I started flirting with a guy I knew for a few years and found fairly attractive, but never gave any energy to, and the first conversation we had was the spark that lit the match. The following is a snippet of said conversation:

Him - “I’m going to St. Lucia in a few days.” Me - “Make sure and visit Gros Islet and Rodney Bay, the marina is beautiful on a clear moonlit night. You see all the lights from the stars and the boats reflecting on the water and hear the waves slapping against the pier. It’s so calm and serene….” Him - “Hmmm… you’ve been everywhere, I can’t carry you anywhere new!” Me, intrigued - “I haven’t even scratched the surface on places I wanna go, especially in the Caribbean.” Him - “Where do you want to go next?” Me, thinking nothing of what I was saying, cuz I had no intention of actually going anywhere - “Jamaica maybe? Or Barbados, as it’s quite close to home (Tobago).”

Fast forward 4 months, I have my plane ticket to Jamaica in hand and am about to book my Airbnb in Ocho Rios. I am in no way encouraging anyone to do it this way, it is quite inadvisable to travel with someone who you have no real ties with. If you take anything away from reading this, it is that IT LITERALLY TAKES ONE DECISION.

I said yes that day in December. He intoxicated me with the idea of it being just a series of steps to get to the goal. No limits, no hesitation. Logistics would come later. It always seems impossible before you do it, before you take the first leap.

The last time I traveled was 2016 to the aforementioned St. Lucia, with my mom and daughter, who was a toddler at that time. If I’m not mistaken, the decision to go was somewhat similar, with me doing the convincing. Our saving grace was that a close relative was working on the island at the time, so accommodations and transportation was covered (and so expenses were lessened, hallelujah!). Basically, I think I’m due for a couple-hours long plane trip to a new place.

I’m making it sound rather click-bait-y, aren’t I? I haven’t said one thing yet about where the money being spent was coming from, and DUN-DUN-DUNNNN, if Mr. Mysterious is still my plus-one.

Let’s touch on the first part first - the finances.

I currently have a savings account in a local credit union with about $25K in savings, which was one of my savings goals. I am currently permanently employed, bringing in $50K a year before taxes, BUT I was living paycheck to paycheck until last year October, where I made my first official business investment that is bringing in an extra $2K a month, for at least the next year or so. While I have used some of that money to pay off the loan used to make the investment, some of that money was used to fund this trip. I also made the decision to allocate some of my salary towards the trip as well, instead of eating too much into the investment returns. More on this later.

I had identified the PERFECT travel time. I pat myself on the back every time I think about how this played out. In T&T, there’s a public holiday on the 30th of May, and another one on the 8th of June in 2023. Recall that I am employed, and obviously that means I would want to exploit all public holidays (anytime a holiday fell on a Thursday, best believe I was coughing on the phone the Friday so I could be home for 4 whole days…cough cough). I also did some preliminary research on the island and I realized that the island was bigger than home (i.e. I couldn’t drive around the entire island in a day comfortably while sightseeing), so a short 3- or 4- day trip would leave me wanting, or extremely exhausted by trying to squeeze everything into such a short time. After conferring with Mr. Mysterious, I decided that a week-long stay was the sweet spot - enough time to explore some of the tourist-y things to do, while allowing for relaxation and regular life as well. Put those two together, and we get a full 7 days in Jamaica, a prep day before and a rest day after.

Things are falling into place so seamlessly! That only gave me further confirmation that this trip was supposed to happen. Nothing can stop me now! ……..*crickets*

Mr. Mysterious, who has been talking to me almost every single day since that fateful December day, suddenly ghosted me March-month end. No explanation, just radio silence. Granted, we had had a bit of a tiff concerning something unrelated right before the ghosting, but I don’t think it was serious enough to warrant THIS?! I wouldn’t know though, cuz he’s a ghost 👻. I can’t ask. I waited a few days, and sent a follow-up “Hope you are well” text, expecting a response at least, but I've been left on read till this day. I was shook, cuz the safety net I was banking on with this trip was that I wasn’t alone, so the burden of solo travel would be at least lessened. And he also was a seasoned traveler, the exact opposite to me, so that was another thing that made me breathe a bit easier. He knew the ins and outs of international travel and could guide me along. For the first few nights after accepting the disappointment of the absolute curry duck (Trini stale joke) I had just experienced, the trip loomed in front of me, again gigantic and seemingly impossible once again. All the insecurities I had silenced with a proud middle finger at the start of the journey came back up, cackling in my face: Can you even afford to go on this trip alone? How will you get around? You will be stuck in Jamaica for 7 whole days…what were you even thinking? Are you even still considering going, after this shake-up? The nasty chatter got louder in my head. I admit, I looked up whether I could get a full refund of my ticket (no), and if I could ask somebody, anybody to take Mr. Mysterious’ place (also no, that’s unreasonable).

So, I pulled up my big girl panties and made the big girl decision to do my first solo trip to Jamaica in June 2023. I mean, it would have happened eventually - I had put traveling on my vision board, BUT I didn’t expect God to drop me into the deep end like this?!! Damn!

On a more serious note, what I won’t do is question how things are playing out. I have learned long ago that even if things don’t work out exactly how I planned it to, things always work out in the end. Maybe I would be so caught up in building my future career that I won’t have time to travel as much as I like. Maybe this is exactly what I need to build some more confidence in myself and my abilities. Maybe this is what I need to clear out the fuzz in my head - time away from everything, in a hammock, spending much-needed alone time. It will be revealed to me why this happened when it happened, how it happened, in due time. I’m not even stressed or pressed. Also, I am on the last leg of my degree, and having put blood, sweat and tears into the last couple years, I convinced myself that I needed to reward myself for sticking with it and completing it. While an international trip was not on my list of things I thought up of for the celebration (it was more along the lines of a celebratory dinner at a nice restaurant with a few glasses of wine), I sold myself on the idea, as I was intoxicated by Mr. Mysterious’ siren song. I deserve!

Let me touch on some of the things I had the good fortune of having and utilizing in this prep time, leading up to the actual flight dates. Remember, planning had started a whole 6 months before, so I had allotted time for procrastination and plan changes. We’ll discuss Google Flights, using a calendar in a specific way, and what I plan to do.

I’m on a tight budget, and so my main issue was allocating my limited resources in the best way possible to be able to cover every essential. Before the ghosting situation, my main expenses were the plane tickets, and spending money (Mr. Mysterious gallantly offered to handle the accommodation costs). Google Flights had come in CLUTCH! The site has a calendar to see when the cheapest flights were, compared by dates, as well as the option to track flights’ price changes. AS I had already outlined the PERFECT travel dates, I just scrolled down to the dates, and lo and behold, the prices I saw were among the cheapest for the month. I had used the price tracking  option, as I started accumulating funds for the purchase of the ticket. Things were chugging along well! No reason why something would go off-kilter, right? Right??

I remember vividly waking up one morning and seeing that the price of the ticket had become a few hundred dollars more expensive.

My heart dropped. I hadn’t gotten all the money at that time, and it was honestly discouraging to have to stretch my already-stretched budget to accommodate this extra expenditure. Nevertheless, she persisted. I had accumulated my $4k in cash, ready to buy tickets by early February. Sis was READY and DETERMINED. I had listened to a podcast that celebrated doing the Thing that involved one taking a giant step with no going backsies. That Thing for me was spending $4k on a trip. It seems silly and trivial now, but my heart was set on doing the Thing. My dreams were consumed by the fantasy excursions Mr. Mysterious and I were going to experience on this beautiful island. Then another confirmation that I was supposed to go on this trip - the airline I was planning to go with had a Valentine’s day sale:

This was it, yall. I was going to Jamaica. This was the sign from God I needed. And I didn’t even see it, it was Mr. Mysterious who sent me a screenshot from his IG feed. My heart sang for that entire week. I was going to Jamaica! I did the Thing, and bought my tickets on Valentine’s Day!

Going on in the background of all this was my 12-week planning on Notion. I had counted 12 weeks into the future from the week I decided to go in mid-December, and created a calendar with a task to complete for each week. These tasks included making a list of locations to visit when we got there, making lists of things to pack, things that I need to have organized before and during the trip, etc. This gave me the time I required to do any future-based thinking, grouped neatly into manageable segments so I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed when I sat and thought about things. I chose Notion simply because I had previous experience using the calendar when I was planning out semester tasks and due dates, and I had always found it to be very easy to use. Plus, you could decorate it. I had embraced my full “speak it into existence” self, and put up pictures and affirmations - a virtual vision board, if you will. Also, this 12-week spread would give me a couple ‘free’ weeks before the actual trip, instead of being exact with the timing. Maybe God knew what He was guiding me to do, cuz with this change in the plan, I would need some extra time to sort stuff out.

To be honest, I still don’t believe that Mr. Mysterious ghosted me. I keep oscillating between the reasoning that he probably has something major going on in his life and needs some time to himself, and the Bad Bitch alter-ego, looking down at him with a upturned nose, lumping him with all the other fuckboys I had the unfortunate luck of meeting and interacting with. The insecure baby girl inside of me has so many questions, mainly if I had done something wrong, but if I am to take my mental health and self-confidence journey seriously, I have to be okay with whatever happens around me, regardless of whether it is positive or negative in my perception. When I start overthinking about it, I stop and visualize myself being a boat in the middle of a vast ocean, in a thunderous storm. Waves as tall as houses are rocking me side to side, up and down, but I still stay afloat, above the waves. I stay confident that this storm will end, and I will complete the journey I planned to, in one piece. I am confident in God’s plan; when thing don’t go my way I stress a lil bit, then release my hold on the outcome I wanted, knowing better will come.

We have reached the point where we discuss the now. Yes, I lied about not being stressed or pressed. I am very much stressing and pressing. I now face some nail-biting, belly-hurting decisions. Best believe that I am not making light of the situation. I know it is so much more dangerous to be a female solo traveler. The decisions I choose to make have unknown consequences and repercussions that I have no clue is in my future. The travel blogs I’ve read seem to gloss over this fact, varnishing it with pretty titles such as “Do’s and Don’ts To Keep You Safe”, maybe because it is an ugly truth that danger is lurking no matter where you go.

Maybe I really do need the time away from the usual routine to view my life through fresh, new eyes. Maybe this really is the Thing I need to start off the rest of my life with. God knows I’ve been feeling hamster-wheel-y for the past few months. Maybe this will be the worst thing I will have ever done, a complete waste of money and time. Regardless of what the outcome is, if I am to experience it, I will. Being adaptable to change, instead of resistant to it may very well be the lesson I have to learn from this experience.

As of now, the most immediate pivot I have to make is that I have to tack on a few extra hundred US to cover Airbnb accommodations for the entire week, as well as more spending money as I have no ‘safety net’ in Mr. Mysterious anymore, per se. As I type this, I remember a quote I saw recently:

And with that, I bid you adieu. I will post an update when I get closer to The Date. Thanks for sticking with my dramatic ass till the end. I would LOVE to hear any tips for beginner solo traveling, and comment with more places that I can visit in Jamaica. I appreciate your love and support!

Kisses,

S.

[sixthousandbees]

I have just managed to tidy my room for the first time in months! certainly hoover for the first time in months.

I did it by addiction baiting myself

I’ve been doing the four times runescape, but (understandably) its a bit overwhelming and tiring, and I (or part of me at least) got burnt out quickly. last time the runescape addiction took ten months to fizzle out. this time it was a week!

good news? bad news? I still really wanted to play it, but because playing it times four is a big ask I would start to open the instances and go NOPE and close them again. and I’ve been so tired I haven’t been able to do much anyway.

I’ve also been avoiding the energy drink, because I’m genuinely trying to fix my sleep schedule, but I dont think thats going to work.last night I slept for 5 hours, and the day before I slept for 14, and the day before that 12, and I have been exhausted for WEEKS. I am tired of being tired.

as today was 5 hours I woke up at 7am, and after a couple hours being groggy and failing to get myself moving I had some caffeine for the first time in a week. it is like .. 16 hours later and I am AWAKE I can FOCUS I AM ALIVE. I mentioned possibly staying up all night off handedly to mother&sister and they were absolutely not, at least try to sleep. BUT. I dont want to. its going to be another week or two of being dead and dead tired, and if I can squeeze another 4 hours of alertness out of this then fuck the broken sleep schedule.

ANYWAY. addiction baiting. sorry. so part of me wants to play runescape and part of me does NOT. the part of me that does not seems to be the one of us that does the thinking. the “thoughts” I hear in my head, the monologuing. the body seems to be the one that wants to play runescape. its also the one typing at the moment. a lot of things we do is high teamwork. teamwork so flawless we rarely notice it. but. we also fight a lot.

The room has been a mess for forever. The body doesn’t really care about the mess. it gets around it, nbd. the brain does not appreciate the mess, but fighting the body to tidy up the mess is exhausting as well. SO the brain made the promise that it will stop fighting the body in playing the runescape IF we can get clear floor (and clean bed. dumping everything on the bed doesn’t count)

and NOW. I am SITTING ON MY CHAIR. first time this year. I’ve had everything at 200% magnification whilst lying in bed. not sure I’m a fan of sitting. The floor is clear. the floor is hoovered. the bed is clear. the sheets have not been changed, but the runecape promise is for like a week, so maybe next week I’ll get clean sheets

[felonious]

The Big Exhausting Auto Day

The night after my big exhausting auto day I went dancing. The next night I played bass in a punk band and helped take the concert down. And today I washed windows for four hours. Tomorrow is more window washing. Tuesday is therapy day so it’s a me day. Wednesday I have band practice from 1 till we quit which could be 4 or 5. I have the morning to relax and the afternoon to play. I’m kind of jazzed after the gig and have some ideas about practicing for gigs. And I wanted to do a punk version of Nick nack patty wack then I searched on YouTube and found that Korn did that already so I guess I want to write a song about Columbo. I don’t know if I have to work on Thursday or not. If not I want to sketch out a painting idea to propose to Will and Pam. I haven’t been making any time for art. And since I asked for help I’ve had enough donations I can think about an art supply purchase. There is also an opportunity to show work at a gallery in Gallup I want to get in on. My kitchen is completely cluttered in piles of dirty dishes. Laundry is piled up. Dog hair and dust is breeding. And the plants need to be harvested. Oh, and my car is in complete disarray. Like my whole life.

It was Thursday. I left home at 4:30 am because I like to allow time in case there is a catastrophe. I don’t know what time my tire blew out. I was going 70-75 mph after just overtaking a semi. I didn’t notice the time but it was before the San Fidel turnoff on i40 before sunup. It was unnerving. I thought about how I’m a 64 yr old woman and considered crying but honestly, I’ve been through much worse. Like being battered by a state trooper and thrown into a county prison for 22 days, and even that could have been worse. I mean, you have to find a way to ease on through those sticky situations. They will make you stronger if you don’t let them defeat you.

I changed a tire in the dark. And I did this as fast as I could after thinking about how I could possibly die a brutal stupid death. Best to focus on the task and not think about it being hard. It was impressive how fast I loosened the lug nuts. Getting the spare on was easy enough. After I got back going I stayed off the interstate in favor of frontage roads and sticking to 45mph all the way to the auto shop where I was expected for a service and inspection. I rushed in badly needing to pee and blurted out ‘never mind fixing my heater today’s gonna be a tire day.’ I got four new ones. The inspection showed a weak u-joint and I thought that sounded serous but the shop owner was out in a meeting. Before he left he’d said we’d talk about further work on the phone when I got home so I left. Driving slowly. Feeling uneasy. The shop is 140 miles from home. I stopped at Rte66 casino and called him, said I wanted to come back, get the driveline sorted. It was going to be more money than I had. When I got there I got online and posted I needed help and asked for donations. I called a friend with a credit card. I asked for and received help.

The drive home was very relaxing but I noticed at some point my ass was sure tired. I got home 16 hrs after I left that morning. The next morning I noticed how tight my thighs were. Then the arms. Changing that tire I just went for it, I used my legs and my arms like a boss.

[kintsukuroi-babes]

Draft I wrote like a few months ago:

I haven’t been sleeping or eating. I’ve probably slept a total of 12 hours the entire week. I’ve been on a huge Dexedrine bender trying to get everything done and I pretty much got everything done but I am so exhausted, feel like a machine. The other night it was like day 3 no sleep ans I was at work ans I was hallucinating all day at work, seeing shadows run past me or like animal shadows hiding away when I look in the corner. Then I got home from work and the hallucinations got even worse. I saw little bugs moving ans crawling all over, the scarf in my closet turned into a cat that was in the shadow ans he was playing. From the corner of my eye I saw my boyfriend on my bed but it was just the shape of the pillows. When morning hit I wanted to keep doing stuff but I was becoming delirious, talking to the shadow entities and laughing for no reason. My body was shutting down ans I felt like I was on the verge of psychosis so I went to sleep and slept for 6 hours. Then I got up and went to work again, went hope did the same shit. I wrote 11 pages in my diary about one friend and how similar we are and how we met in the mental hospital and have the same issues and go thru the same stuff. I stayed up all night taking Dexedrine (popping them and snorting them) and took all of my Ativan this week to counteract the intense anxiety. I’m so tired, my back hurts, my mind is exhausted. I had to take a lot of my Ativan last night because my heart was beating so fast ans when I went to measure my heart rate I think I felt heart palpitations. I was scared of the worst that I could die so I put Jesus around my neck. I was okay tho. I slept for 4 hours today ans now I’m at work again. I’ve only been eating one small thing a day and not drinking enough water I’m probably malnourished. There’s like no food in my house so, and the drvgs make me not hungry, I’ve just been body checking sometimes to see if it’s working if I’m getting skinnier but it didn’t change as much as I hoped. I haven’t told anyone what I’ve been doing bcuz I just feel so ashamed about it and embarrassed and scared. I don’t want to tell my bf about it bcuz I don’t want him to see that side of me, the manipulative, desperate, weak me. Deep down I’m scared to tell him because I’m scared he will not want me. The bottle of Dexedrine wasn’t even mine I stole them from my best friend and lied about it. Being an addict is so shameful ans I feel like such a horrible person. I hate the old me ans I feel like hee again, I don’t want anyone to know I’m hee again, I’m just like the old me doing this. I just want the rest of it to be gone already.