#i didn't know my mother wanted me to lie to the doctor so now everyone's mad at me

[fruitysoupy]

.

[mydearneteyam]

Hi! I was wondering if you’re still taking requests if so i was wondering if you could do a oneshot of so’lek x na’vi fem reader who is a warrior but is told not fight by medics and even so’lek at the resistance since she has chronic back pain but downplays it and acts as if it doesn’t affect her.

Like for example she goes on her own to fight rda despite what the medics say and comes back limping around as if nothing happened

I hope you understood that and sorry if its too long. I wanted to request this cuz i really like your writing so id really appreciate you if you make it, if you dont its totally fine.

A WARRIOR WHO CAN'T FIGHT ;; SO'LEK

summary ;; a warrior's stubborn behavior may change over time. or maybe not.

pairings ;; so'lek x fem!na'vi!reader

warnings ;; mentions of war, body pain, insecurities.

word count ;; 2.3k

word of the day ;; nawkx [nawk’] n. bone helm rhino

You cut the rope with your teeth, spit some of it out as you finished knotting and securing the basket you had accidentally broken earlier. You knew you were taking your time, but if you wanted your lie to stand, you had to try your best.

You stretched your body forward a bit more, almost crashing your chest into the ground to finish tidying everything up and gave a sharp inhale to stand up, feeling the sharp pain spread through your lower back, as it always did every time you had a sudden movement.

"And now…" with your foot, you lifted the fruits into the air so the basket could pick them up and once you were ready, you turned your attention to the path you'd had memorized forever. You were coming that way, you were going back that way. "On your way" you spoke to yourself, smiling.

Yes, there was a little blood on your clothes, but it wasn't yours, so your concern was minimal. You didn't abandon your big smile, even when, upon arriving at the headquarters, some humans already seemed to be waiting for you outside, with grimaces of obvious annoyance.

"You know what we told you! Are you even listening to us now?" one of them asked, but you swung your leg over his head, humming one of your clan's songs, disinterested. The tingling was present again, but as you threw your trunk forward, it stopped after a few seconds.

"Mother who brings us honor and life…" you continued to sing, putting the food aside and obviously ignoring the doctors at your back. Ha, funny. "Guiding our hearts through every strife..."

"It's not funny!" shouted your name this time one of the girls. "Do you think your life is just a game? You said you were going fruit picking and look at you!"

You analyzed yourself from head to toe, cocking your head to the side.

"Yes… and I brought fruit." You showed the basket, crammed with several, brightly colored and some not so much. "Finding a campsite a couple of minutes away wasn't something I expected either, but hey…" you laughed, tousling her hair. "That's on you guys for not letting me know it was so close. Maybe if you had told me, I would have given more thought to…going and helping out at all" even though you said those words, it was a lie. And you knew it. Everyone knew it.

Please, a Na'vi who would not want to go and put her life in danger knowing that her condition was thanks to the humans still in the land where she was born? It was impossible, you smiled, running your tongue over your teeth and pausing on your canines, with visible annoyance.

"You know you're not allowed to leave, everyone here has told you that. Even the warriors" she continued speaking, with concern and weariness in her voice. You had identified it for quite some time.

"I'm glad you have a good memory." you commented, pulling out a fruit and leaving your now arrowless bow in a corner. Although you looked at it from time to time, last time, they tried to hide it. "But I'm also sure you remember… that I'm an adult and I do what I do because I have to help my people…" your voice, as always, although understanding, was mocking. Maybe because the people who now cared for you annoyed you a little, always on you, as if they were your parents, as if it wasn't their own kind's fault that you had problems that now wouldn't allow you to fight.

"That's enough" you saw So'lek, just coming out of healings. You laughed a little to yourself, of course, just what you needed. Send the best warrior to talk to his own race. You ate some fruit, walking away from the place, grabbing your bow again and hissed at the pain in your back that bending over just a bit generated.

"Yeah, I think that was enough time off" you spoke between grunts. So'lek's scent reminded you of what you couldn't be and being in the same space as him complicated you. You didn't hate him, but you envied his state. Healthy, free, not needing humans to follow him wherever he went because his back worked perfectly fine.

Everything you couldn't be.

...

"How are you feeling?" asked Dr. Alma, looking at you passively. You scoffed, but shrugged, not responding. "Anything new to add?" you denied. "Everything as usual?"

"As usual" you concluded, trying to stand up, but the wires attached to you stopped you, you only managed to move the machines with you and the woman's hand rested on your shoulders, seeking to reassure you.

"Okay, I understand that this situation is not to your liking, but it's the only way you can get back to being better. That's what you're looking for, isn't it? To go and fight? To go back to being a hunter? A warrior?" she sounded almost sweetly, as if it wasn't something that was repeated to you every day. You sighed, taking the wires off in one fell swoop, tossing them aside and groaned as you stood up from the gurney, this time taking a couple of steps away from her.

"Be somebody, Dr. I want to be somebody again" you clarified, feeling the obvious annoyance in your body. Whenever you had revisions, something always told you to get out of there, the discomfort, your intuition, your instincts. You didn't belong in a place full of numbers you didn't understand or complex words only understood between humans or puppets.

Walking through the halls, you couldn't help but feel that the stares were heavier than ever. More than every day. You were a warrior, they must have been afraid of you! Why were they looking at you with pity?

As you left that space, that steel cage, you felt the scent of nature, the flowers growing around you, the animals talking to each other, communicating with life.

You noticed a small fire on one side. So'lek was there, checking his songcord. He seemed alone. You sharpened your eyes, wondering if it would be a good idea to approach him.

Whenever you saw him, you thought about how different they were. He was a full-fledged warrior, the humans respected him enough not to talk to him too much and many of the na'vi warriors from other clans who came recognized him for what he was, a brave companion and brother who sacrificed day and night for mother earth, for his people, for all the fallen, for each of you. You could take months counting day by day all those he had saved, throwing himself into danger. Even there you were, several times he had done his best to save you from the humans. When your arrows ran out, when your back pain was the most unbearable and left you helpless.

It was him. And that pissed you off. Because you always owed your life for him, but you could never save him. Because you couldn't. Your body couldn't afford something so extreme. As if it were ceramic, as if it were glass. Like an article of clothing that could easily be cut or snagged on a branch. That's why it was best to keep it tucked away, hidden from anyone who could hurt it.

"I see you, So'lek" you greeted, extending your hand towards him and he, with a calm look, nodded, closing his eyes.

"I see you."

You sat down next to him, getting into a specific position that could avoid the sharp pain in your lower back, almost reaching your thighs. You hissed, settling in.

"I see the pains are still present. The humans have not been able to help you?" he asked politely. You denied, squeezing your eyes shut a little and no longer feeling anything, you gave a sigh.

"Not really. I don't think they can do anything for me." you admitted, watching the wood burn for a few seconds. On the other side, So'lek was still looking at you, in a way you couldn't quite identify. You didn't want to believe it was pity. He should see you as an equal, shouldn't he?

"In the morning… Why did you go to the camp?" you watched him settle in and could almost feel scolded. "You could have hurt yourself on the way there and you don't have weapons like theirs. It was stupid. Impulsive."

"Because I'm stupid… and impulsive. Like a Bone Helm Rhino" you smiled at the last. They tended to call you that. You were stubborn, too stubborn not to accept that going and shooting humans was suicide for you.

"Yes, I think I see the similarity" he nodded and you looked at him. He mimicked your action and you looked down, not out of embarrassment, but out of discomfort. You weren't used to being close to him and a conversation couldn't lead you to that. "A warrior who can't fight… almost like a fable of our people…" he commented and you looked at him again. This time, you didn't look away.

"I don't like that title. I prefer something more ostentatious, like 'wounded warrior who follows to the death'" you tried to take the weight off your troubles, but you saw him settle back, cocking his head to one side.

"Bone Helm Rhino it is, then."

"A good title…if I knew how to wear it right."

"'Foolish inflexibility and unyielding determination are two sides of the same coin, Warrior" he commented, slowly getting to his feet, handing you some arrows. "You choose what you want to prove. Take a chance, but be wise with your decisions. Do not allow yourself to die. Your people… we are waiting for you at the end of the day."

You preferred to believe that the warmth spreading through your body was because of the campfire and not because his words were something that made you feel good. And for the first time in a long time, a feeling passed over the tingling that spread from your back down. Peace.

You looked at the arrows in your hands and settled back, hugging your legs. The bonfire would be extinguished before long, but you decided to stay outside a while longer.

" Unyielding determination…" you whispered to yourself. The only witnesses to that were the night and the small insects flying around. "Yeah, I guess that doesn't suit me" you laughed a little, for every chuckle, a little strum in your lower back pulled the muscles around it.

"Not even a little bit".

...

"You're doing good. Now, raise your arm a little more" you felt his hand tilt your elbow up and took a couple of breaths to keep from thinking about the pain. "How do you feel?"

"Like my insides are going to explode, thanks for asking" you spoke in a slightly higher pitched tone of voice and saw the opposite nod.

"Yes, I was told you might feel that way" you knew he wouldn't do it in front of you, but you noticed how he held back a small smile and you raised an eyebrow, grimacing "Eyes front. Both eyes open. You know where you need to aim" he indicated and you nodded. "Good. Shoot" you slowly released your breath and pulled the trigger.

"Perfect. You didn't hit the target. I didn't expect you to" he took the gun for you though. "The Kame'tire Clan's meds are just trying to take effect on you after all."

"So this was all just to make fun of me?" you asked, still in a bit of pain, but slowly dissipating. You denied, emptying the magazines.

"For testing. See if you could handle the gun and its weight. At least this way you can be more protected if you keep sneaking off to RDA camps" he commented nonchalantly and you got a little self-conscious.

"You don't mind if I go?"

"It's not a question of whether I care or not. It's about your safety. As long as you're secure and alive, I think I have worse things to worry about" he admitted. You smiled a little and before he left - because these 'classes' were brief because of his missions - you took his wrist.

"Thank you, So'lek. For… making me feel like someone again."

He hesitated a bit to respond. Avoiding looking you in the eye.

"You've always been someone. The only one who thinks differently is you, Nawkx" he nodded slightly and you let go. "But I'm glad I brought you back to a good view of yourself."

You smiled to yourself and cocked your head to one side, watching him leave. This time, there was no campfire to evade your thoughts about him.

But it didn't bother you at all to deny it.

"Thinking of something?" you looked to the side of you, So'lek arranged one of the feathers dangling from your hair. You shook your head, smiling as you set the basket full of fruit down in the center of the table. "I hope you didn't go to fight humans again?" you feigned indignation, with a chuckle.

"Me? Fighting humans? How dare you…" you cut the root of one of the fruits with the blade "After all, there are almost none."

"Exactly, almost. You always manage to find them." he reminded you and you rolled your eyes, turning to hug him. "Don't think it'll work like the old days… I can smell your lies."

"Oh, silly me, thinking I could outwit my mate with a show of affection so I could go fight like the warrior I used to be" you faked your voice, throwing your head back and reaching past your back, So'lek's strong arms held you.

"The warrior who couldn't fight and did it anyway. A good tale to tell."

"Just telling. Living it is a bit boring" you snuggled into the space between his neck, purring a little. A dry chuckle came from his throat and he nodded.

"I can imagine, Ma Nawkx."

a/n ;; it took me forever!!! i'm really sorry if it wasn't exactly how it was asked and sorry if it wasn't to your liking! i hope that in the future you'll still like to ask for another request! honestly i like how it kinda turned because i struggled at first how to write it 😔😔 i was listening to 'harpy hare' by yaelokre while writing this btw anyways, i love y'all ¡!

[gurugirl]

how do we feel about a New Years party stepdad!h blurb? <3

A/n: You wanted a blurb? SORRY! LOL! Got carried away babe! This is a bit more than a blurb. Happy New Year to everyone! Hope your parties are just as fun as this one 💦 3.4k words

Warning: stepdad!harry x stepdaughter!reader, inappropriate relationship, smut

stepdad!harry masterlist

New Year's Eve had always been a fun little thing that your mother loved to celebrate, maybe more than any other holiday. She always planned well in advance, inviting dozens of guests, warning the neighbors that it was going to be loud and bribing them with her famous tiramisu, having food catered in, decorations, champagne, noise makers...

You were dressed in your little red, sequin dress with a low back and black heels, hair smoothed and waved, red lips, and lots of butterflies in your tummy. You didn't know how tonight was going to go down. Harry would probably kiss your mom at midnight - that was a given actually. You were used to that, though. What had you feeling the fluttery nerves in your tummy was what Harry was going to do with himself.

The moment he saw you in your little red number he let out an audible scoff that even your mother noticed, "She's gorgeous isn't she, Harry?" Your mom poked her elbow at her husband and winked at you.

She truly just had no idea. But you'd also gotten used to pushing the guilt down so deep it almost didn't even bother you anymore. Almost.

As the guests began to arrive, everyone was handed a drink and ate snacks, and gathered in small groups to chat. The music playing over the speakers was nice and chill. The atmosphere was really relaxed and exciting all at once.

You invited a couple of your girlfriends and they were dressed just as cute as you. Cassidy was somewhat aware of how you felt about Harry. Well, actually she wasn't really aware. She only knew that you found him attractive. She had no idea of your secret. No one did.

"He's so fucking fine. How do you survive listening to him fuck your mom?" She laughed into her red solo cup. She was already half in the bag.

You rolled your eyes and made a gagging noise, acting as if you were grossed out by anything to do with Harry and sex, "Gross! Cas, you're nasty. I don't think of him like that."

She scoffed and shook her head, "I know you think he's hot. You told me. Don't lie."

You shrugged, "Not anymore really. Now he's just my stepdad. I don't think of him that way."

But you could feel his eyes on you all night. You even had to take your pointer finger and make a slicing gesture across your neck to tell him to cut it out. He was going to get himself caught. He wasn't being sly.

It had you a bit worried in fact. So your butterflies were warranted. Harry was being a bit too obvious.

One of Harry's friends, LJ, was also eyeing you. But you didn't like his attention. Not one bit. The guy was ogling you and he kept coming up to you and very openly flirted with you a good handful of times before Harry had had enough and he interrupted one such moment.

"That's enough, mate. That's my stepdaughter..." Harry had placed a palm on the man's shoulder to pull him back a few inches.

You watched on as LJ and Harry went back and forth, "No worries, dude. She's an adult. Right?" He looked at you with brows raised.

You shrugged but looked at Harry with pleading eyes. You wanted LJ to fuck off.

"Nah, let's go, man. Anyone but her..." Harry pulled LJ along and LJ turned back to you as he stumbled in step with Harry and waved at you, but the look on his face was a promise that he'd return.

Your mom was ER doctor, but her true calling was a party planner and host. She threw the best parties. She always had everything perfectly organized and planned out. Anything that went wrong, she took care of by improvising or adapting to doing something a little differently.

So, when one of the drunk guests fell into a table and knocked all of the drinks, cups, and liquor bottles to the ground, your mom had already bought extra liquor and mixers. She immediately got into host most and pointed to you and Harry, "In the basement, bring up the boxes labeled NYE Backup. There are seven of them."

You and Harry quickly went into the house and you kicked your heels off the moment you walked into the kitchen so you could more easily go up and down the stairs. This would likely involve more than one trip.

Harry led the way to the basement and just as you thought he'd do, he pulled you into his arms when you were both hidden away from any eyes that might see.

He groped your ass and then brought a hand up to your chin, holding your jaw, "Why are you wearing this? Trying to make me lose my mind? I've gotta fuckin' fight all my friends to stay away from you," he asked you with his face close to yours. The stance he had over you was possessive and animalistic.

You chuckled and grasped Harry's forearm that held your jaw, "Just for you, Daddy. Thought you'd like it."

Harry pressed his mouth to yours and moved his hands down again. He slid his fingers to your thighs and slowly moved the hem of your dress upward. He began moving you back toward the wall until you felt the cool, flat surface against your back.

Harry broke from the kiss and backed away enough so he could take a look at your panties. He was always obsessed with seeing what panties you had on no matter what you were wearing. You wore something that wouldn't show panty lines. a red and thin lacy thong.

Harry opened his mouth and smoothed his hands over your hips, his thumbs dragging the material down a little. He pushed your dress up further and brushed his fingers over your tummy and ducked down to kiss your belly button which made you laugh because the scruff on his face tickled a bit.

"S'mine..." he spoke against your belly as he settled onto the floor to his knees. His lips made their way down over your panties until he kissed right over the crotch of your panties. His hands pushed your thighs apart and for a moment, you forgot that you had a task to do and your mom's drill sergeant was about to come out if she didn't see you two back upstairs soon.

You leaned your head back to the wall and nodded, "Yours, Daddy."

Harry groaned and pinched the inside of your right thigh as he lifted your left leg and draped your thigh over his shoulder. He quickly pushed the material that was hiding your pussy away to the side and took one, wide and long lick upwards. He looked up at you with that devilish grin you loved before he took another long lick up, his tongue pressing into your labia before slurping your clit gently.

You gasped and put your hands into his hair just as he took his index and middle finger into your folds with his mouth wrapped around your sensitive button.

"Harry? Y/n?" Your mom's voice traveled down into the basement.

Harry quickly stood back up, straightening his clothes out and adjusting his dick as you moved your panties into place and slid your dress back down to cover your bottom.

You both looked at one another and laughed before bringing up the boxes. It did take a few trips. And on each one, Harry tried something but you slapped his hand away, "Mom is going to catch us. You need to stop!" But you couldn't stop the smile and the giggle when you warned him.

The backup liquor and mixers saved the party. Everyone got back to drinking and dancing and being loud. But now you were on edge after getting a little attention from Harry in the basement and your panties got progressively wetter through the night just thinking about his mouth on you. It also didn't help that he kept looking at you or when he'd get close enough he'd whisper into your ear so no one could hear or he'd graze his knuckles down your arm.

Harry didn't get too drunk, but he was feeling quite comfortable with himself. He was dancing and mingling, but he kept looking toward you throughout the night. But the only reason you noticed it was because you kept looking toward him. He was hot. And he wanted you bad, so you were in a state of constant horniness.

When the karaoke machine came out Harry was on it. Harry was a singer in a band. They were okay. It was mostly just for fun, but Harry was good. He took the microphone and put the song in.

When you first heard the music you weren't sure what the song was, but then you realized that it was Elvis. A Little Less Conversation. One of Harry's favorite songs.

Everyone laughed and cheered. It was quite ridiculous. Harry was just having fun, really getting into it. He was singing directly to one of his friends, Joe, touching his shoulders and swaying to the beat. It was a good show.

"He's hard not to stare at," Cassidy said as she leaned into you watching Harry sing the Elvis song. She had a smile on her face as she watched your stepdad sing and move around. Harry had his striped button-up shirt unbuttoned to just past his pecs and his sleeves pushed up to past his elbows, showcasing the tattoos on his forearms. Because of course, he did.

You looked around and realized most of the women were looking at Harry just like Cassidy was. You smiled because you knew Harry was yours at the end of the night. Well, mostly. You'd see how the night turned out once the guests left. Things were a bit more tricky when your mom was home.

Everyone who sang karaoke after Harry had a tough act to follow but it was fun to watch. You wouldn't dare get up and sing in front of anyone. You'd probably have the police called if you tried.

When the hour was closing in at midnight everyone had their champagne glasses and their partner. You and Cassidy stuck next to one another. You'd kiss her at midnight, just a peck.

Harry jumped up on a chair and started the countdown from 10. Your mom stood next to him and everyone watched Harry and counted down.

He shot you a look as the seconds ticked and then he jumped down from his chair and took your mom in his arms and kissed her just as you gave Cassidy a playful peck to her mouth at midnight.

Guests stayed well past midnight. You weren't sure what time they finally started leaving. Cassidy and Michaela planned to stay the night so they were already in your bed by the time you had finished clearing most things from the backyard with your mom and Harry and a few people who stayed to help.

Your mom snuck away before the last guests left and when it was just you and Harry he dragged you into the house and quietly into the basement.

"Your mom's in bed already. I think we need to finish what we started down here, don't you? Start the new year off right?" He had you pressed up against the wall again as he pushed his body against yours, trapping you between himself and the cold wall.

You leaned your head back and nodded with a smile, "I think so." You moved your hands over his chest and slid your fingers into the opening of his shirt, feeling his hard chest with hair scattered over his pecs. Harry's body was delicious.

Moving your hands down you unbuckled his belt and undid his pants as quickly as you could. Harry moved your dress up above your hips to expose your panties again.

"Fuck, I need you. I always need you so bad, Y/n..." Harry moaned as you pulled him out of his pants. He was already hard and ready. Heavy in your hand.

Harry moved your panties to the side and pressed his mouth back onto yours as he slipped his fingers into your crease and circled your clit.

You stroked him with your palm, but it was dry, so you pushed at him a little and spit into your hand, keeping your eyes on his, and then lowered your hand back down to his gorgeous cock. The cock that you knew would soon be taking up all the space inside of your cunt.

You gasped when he pushed two fingers into your tight little hole.

You and Harry stood in the basement, against the wall, watching each other as you got fingered and he got a hand job.

You both began to pant softly as it got more heated. Harry's fingers were long and worked you better than anyone else's.

"My hand is drenched. I think this pussy is ready for my cock now," Harry spoke through his teeth. His tip was leaking just the tiniest bit, his precum letting you know he was aching in your hand.

Harry removed his hand and pushed his pants all the way down and then he grabbed the back of your thighs and bent at the knees as he lifted you upward, your back still to the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist and Harry guided his thick, hard cock into your sopping hole. You both let out a moan that was louder than it should have been.

"Fuck... that's all I needed..." Harry moaned as he felt you lather his cock in arousal, your walls pressing all around him.

"Mmmm... me too, Daddy..." you put your arms over his shoulders for leverage as he began to press upward into you deeper. Harry couldn't pull out too much, but with your back pressed into the wall, he could bend down a little and move himself in and out a few inches, but mostly, he stayed deep inside of you, fucking upward.

Harry had his hands squeezing your ass as he thrusted and you kept your legs locked around his waist so you wouldn't fall.

"Oh my god! Fuck, you’re so deep!" You grunted at his harsh plunges.

Harry put his mouth to yours to keep you quiet because your moans and yelps were too loud. His tongue swirled over your tongue and he licked at your lips and your mouth as he panted his breaths in between.

Harry began to pound into you harder as you fucked yourself down over his cock, moving your hips as much as you could. He kept his mouth over yours but the sound of your back against the wall as he rutted into you was thudding in time with his thrusts.

Harry's cock was throbbing inside of you and he moaned against your mouth as his jaw went slack. He was about to come.

"Come inside of me, Daddy. Fill me up..." you whispered as you pulled at his hair and Harry began to tremble.

"What do you need, baby? Want your clit rubbed? Can you reach?" Harry's words were breathy and tight.

You actually couldn't reach because of the angle and you were worried that if you let go with one of your arms you might lose your balance.

"I don't think I can. But that's okay..."

Harry grunted and moved his hands to your thighs and put your feet onto the floor before pulling out, his heavy cock swaying and shiny.

"Get on your hands and knees. I'll fuck you doggy and you rub that sweet little clit," Harry moved you so you were bending downward.

You got to your hands and knees, knowing you'd have carpet burn afterward, but it'd be worth it.

Harry got in right behind you and softly palmed over your bottom and leaned over your back, "Need to keep quiet, okay?"

You nodded and spread your thighs for him as you started to rub your clit.

Harry impaled you quickly and the feel of his cock parting your soft inner walls and the noise it made when his hips met your ass was so sexy.

Harry's pace was better like this. He could really fuck you in this position. You ran your fingers over your clit as Harry's cock glided in and then backed out to his crown, before pushing back in, reaching that one spot, deep inside, his tip and the swollen frenulum dragging over it and making you see stars each time.

It was like Harry's cock was made for your pussy. Curved perfectly to reach and rub into the magic area that had your toes curling and your pussy creaming over him with how good it felt.

Things only got wetter as Harry went harder. He was tempted to spank your round ass but he resisted because the sound of a palm landing on soft flesh could be a bit loud at times. And besides, his skin and balls slapping against you each time he rocked inward were loud enough. But those noises couldn't be helped. The sound of two people fucking would be enough of a giveaway. Having the sound of him spanking you, which would probably make you yelp was not wise.

Harry began to tremble behind you again, his long cock slicking into you and punching you deep in your tummy. You sped up the speed of your fingers and groaned when Harry's hips rocked into you so hard you were being knocked forward.

"M'gonna come, baby. Come on Daddy's cock. Come on... Need to see your cream all over it. Oooohh..." he let out a low and quiet moan and gasp when you started to quiver and moan.

You bit your lip to keep your noises down because your orgasm was about to take you out. You'd been on edge and pent up all night, which only meant your orgasm was going to wreck you.

Harry shifted deep into you and he grasped your hips. You felt him lean over your body as he fucked inward, inward, deeper, deeper, never moving his cock out as his tip was smashed into your magic spot, smoothing over it and pressing into it, never letting up contact.

You lost it. You did your best not to make a peep but you shook and your ears rang, your heart pounded harshly as your orgasm took over. You creamed over his cock, just like he wanted and you could feel his breath on your neck as he leaned over your body.

Harry gasped and stilled his hips as he released inside of you, deep into your guts. You felt drool hit the top of your shoulder blades as Harry's mouth was hanging open in ecstasy. He couldn't help it. You made his mouth water and his orgasm burst into you and took over all of his senses. He groaned quietly as he unloaded himself into you, coating you with his sperm.

It was a lot. You both came hard. His come began to drip out of you before he'd even pulled out. You were both still a little shaky when he finally did pull out and you heard him laugh as he slipped his fingers through your folds to scoop up his come. He put his arm around your body and you saw his finger in front of your face.

"Suck," he said in a dark voice.

You wrapped your lips around his finger and sucked his still-warm come into your mouth and swallowed it down with a gulp.

"Good girl."

You both got up, wobbly and breathless and smiling. Harry brought you in for another kiss as he pulled your dress down to cover your body.

"Happy New Year, baby. I love you." Harry kissed you deeply and you slung your arms over his shoulders and made out like teenagers. You could probably have gone another round but it was best to get back to your respective rooms before anyone caught you. "Happy New Year, Daddy," you smiled at the man and he pinched your cheek with a grin before you both headed upstairs and went your separate ways for the night.

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @ssaama @sombrioinvernoemveneza @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @dancinsunflowerkiwi @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @ky-harlow-bieber @angel-akxo @flowerfeastrry @anothermannharry

[sandcobangevent]

Unlucky

by @high-functioning-otter and @holmosexualitea Read the fic over on AO3!

Bing. Text notification. About the 10th in the last half an hour. John didn’t count deliberately. Actually, he was trying to focus on answering emails and editing a new episode for the podcast but he struggled a lot with concentrating today. That’s why Mariana had offered to go for a walk with Archie for him and also dragged Sherlock along so he could really work in peace for once.

He glanced over at the phone screen lighting up again after another message came in. From where he was sitting, he could only see who these messages sent and not the content of them. Nevertheless, he nearly fell off his chair when his brain registered who the sender was: Carol Watson. Now every last bit of concentration was definitely completely gone. This was Mariana’s phone, she forgot it. But what? Why was Mariana texting his mother? And what about? And since when? And why???

After yet another text notification sound disrupted the silence of the living room, John couldn’t contain himself anymore. He knew that it was wrong to snoop through other people’s phones – especially if these people are your friends. He knew he shouldn't, but he simply couldn't help himself. He picked up the phone and read the text from the lockscreen.

“What is this?” John held up Mariana’s phone right into her face. It had felt like an eternity since his two housemates left and now that they were back he didn't know what to feel. The past hour he went through all sorts of emotions. From confusion to betrayal to anger to more confusion and then more anger.

“This is my phone. I left it at home. Thank you, John.” Mariana replied confused and she reached out for the phone but John quickly pulled his hand back.

“No, I know what this is. I meant the messages. Why are you texting my mom?” Mariana’s eyes widened a bit. Unsure she glanced over at Sherlock. She didn't know how to respond, if she should tell the truth or resort to a lie. “The question rather is: why are you reading Mrs Hudson’s text messages?” the detective answered for her.

“No no, that’s not...” John cleared his throat awkwardly but then hurriedly continued talking. “Anyway, you know, I can understand when my mother refuses to tell me about this but… you? I-I mean… yes. Isn’t this super weird? And wow okay I never expected my mom to not be straight or that she would go for someone so much younger… or that you would…”

“Get to the point, Watson!” Sherlock finally interrupted the rambling.

“Why are you dating my mother?!” Suddenly the room was dead silent, the three just stared at each other in confusion before both Mariana and Sherlock busted out into laughter. “What? Where did you get that idea?” Mariana asked while she was trying to calm down again.

“Here.” The doctor held up the phone once more and showed the messages to her. She read them and then nodded. “Yeah, okay I can see where you’re coming from. But I can assure you, it’s not what it looks like!” That was exactly the sentence everyone used after they’ve been caught red-handed, when it's exactly what it looks like. Mariana looked over at Sherlock, almost as if she was asking for his permission to speak. Finally, he shrugged and answered for her: “We’re assisting her on a case. Now, she didn’t want us to tell you but seems like nothing gets past you. Well done, Watson, you do make a great detective.”

“A case? What kind of case- Hold on. Why didn’t she want you to tell me? What’s going on?” This was worse. Way worse than just a hidden relationship or anything of the sort. All this time his two friends had secretly worked on a case together, right behind his back. But that also explained a lot.

“She doesn’t want us to tell you.” Mariana replied with a nearly guilty expression on her face. John just couldn’t understand this. What was it that he couldn’t know about? But it was no use. He wouldn’t get an answer to this question, at least not on this day. Both of his housemates were very keen on keeping the secret a secret and no matter how often he asked none of them answered it. Eventually, it was too much for him.

“Right, that’s it, I’m going out. To the pub, in case you’re-… no actually, don’t. Don’t follow or search for me.” And with that John left the house in a hurry. He quickly got into the nearest tube station and took the next train that would take him away from 221b Bakerstreet.

The now podcaster found himself in the exact spot he was in a few months ago. This was not The Volunteer, the pub he would normally go to. No, this was the pub he was supposed to meet up with Mary, where he then ran into Stamford and where this adventure with his detective flatmate started. Now he was there alone, thinking over this crazy day. It had started so normal and now everything was different. The microphone was laying on the table but for once it wasn’t on. John felt upset, extremely upset. It was less painful that his mother was hiding something from him – at a certain age it simply was like that – it hurt more that the people he saw as his best friends went along with it and actually didn’t tell him about it. What problem could be that horrible that it had to be hidden so well? And why didn’t mom just go to the police if it was something serious? Why go to his friends but keep her own son out of it? So many questions and so little answers.

The next day John barely spoke a word to his friends. They had never seen him so upset before. Of course, they tried to apologize but it was all in vain. When it was time for dinner, Sherlock tried again: “Watson. I’m really sorry. But your mother did give very clear instructions.” Silence. “Would you like a hug?” John considered it for a second but then he decided that a simple hug would not solve this matter. “A cup of tea? Biscuits? Anything?” Tea and biscuits for dinner? Yeah no but nice try. “Okay, I don’t understand it. I've apologized multiple times, I don't know what else to do.” John finally opened his mouth to answer but just in that moment someone knocked on the door.

It was Mariana. Perfect timing. “Can I borrow Sherlock for a second?” the doctor couldn’t believe his ears now. The audacity to ask this right in front of him when it was obvious what she wanted Sherlock for. Not this time. He just needed to know what’s going on.

“No actually, first you explain this to me. What is so horrible that my mother doesn’t want me to know?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. Mariana sighed. Now it didn't take much and she finally gave in. She hated this game of hide-and-seek. Only very reluctantly she began to talk.

“Okay. It’s about a guy.” John scoffed and immediately interrupted her baffled. “Really? That’s what she wants to hide from me? She's had dates before ever since dad… well, I'm not mad at her, you know. If it makes her happy then she can go out with whoever she likes.“

“Yes, but the last time they met up the guy acted completely different than before, a complete turnaround. He wanted her to go back to his house but she got suspicious and left early instead. And then she reached out to us. Well, to Sherlock with the request to check up on this man and to not tell you anything.”

John just laughed out loud. “Are you being serious right now? So, this… this is the grand secret that no one here could tell me about? Seriously, why didn’t you just tell me for god’s bloody sake?”

“We were trying to protect you. That guy has also been stealing from her. Nothing expensive but just personal objects. The pictures she had of you and your father in her purse were gone after the first meetup, for example.” A shiver ran down John’s spine. That was extremely creepy. Sherlock sighed and ran a hand over his face. He continued to explain the case. “It gets worse I'm afraid. He’s been involved with women that went missing after they met up with him.” Yup, it indeed got worse. John got goosebumps on his whole body and he wished that this was just a silly coincidence or a bad dream. But it wasn't.

“Who is he?” he finally managed to ask with a sigh and a slightly wobbly voice. Mariana took a quick look at her phone before answering that question. “His name is David Fisher. It’s his real name, Sherlock got that checked.”

“Wait... David Fisher? Why is that name familiar…” the doctor started pacing around the room restlessly while his roommate continued talking. “The police couldn’t find any evidence for his connection to the disappearances but I’m most certain that he has something to do with it. Can’t prove it yet, shame.”

Suddenly John turned around quickly and quite shocked. “Oh my… I know him!” He looked alternatingly at his two friends. “We need to leave now! Right now!”

***

He had always been different. Not by choice. Some people are simply born like that. Most of his time he spent alone, mainly because he was always a bit cleverer than the other kids and he just couldn’t understand the others. His parents were a lovely couple but drowning in work. So, they also had little time for their son.

Things didn't change when he finished high school. He had no difficulties in finding a place to study and even went to study his desired subject, biology. But still, he was very lonely and felt like he didn’t belong there. All the other students were so different and he just couldn’t understand them. And again, he spent most of his time alone studying in his room.

After completing his studies with a remarkable result, he was looking for jobs. But due to a lack of communication and social skills, thanks to him being along so much, he had quite a difficult time. Eventually, he found a job at a university’s cafeteria as a canteen worker and considered himself as an utter failure.

One day a young man with blonde hair and a football tricot came into the cafeteria. This guy sat down with his mates at a table not far from where he was working. He could hear every word they were saying. The young man’s name was John and seemed to have everything he didn’t have. John was studying medicine and had a small group of friends. He could see that this John was pretty socially awkward and yet his friends weren’t appalled by this. No, quite the contrary, they appeared to like him. And again it was something he couldn’t understand. All his life he had been like that and yet no one even bothered to get to know him. He was suddenly feeling very angry.

Many people came to the cafeteria every day. It could have been anyone but for some reason the blonde football tricot John wouldn’t leave his mind. And with that the anger and the jealousy. Why did he succeed at what I didn’t?

***

Luckily, Mariana had found out the address pretty quickly and now they were rushing down the street to get to the underground. On the way John tried to recall what he knew. “He worked in the canteen at university and that was his name, I believe.” They rushed down the stairs and barely made it into the right tube.

“The sort of person that tends to blend into the background and you don’t really notice them. We never even talked. Until one afternoon he attacked me out of nowhere, right there in front of everyone. Nothing happened really but he got fired for it none the less. Bollocks... I had completely forgotten about this.”

They made it in record time to the address and John nearly couldn’t believe his eyes when the door was finally opened. That was the man from the cafeteria all those years ago. The doctor recognized him despite him being much older now. “Are you David Fisher?” he finally managed to ask.

“Sure yeah. What’s the matter?” David seemed nervous now, fidgeting with his fingers. He had also realized who he just opened the door for. And just like the other man, he had a hard time believing that this was really happening right now.

“I’m John Watson and this is Sherlock Holmes. Can we maybe come in?” David nodded and suddenly John felt very uneasy. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to go into this house but too late, no turning back now.

Walking into the house felt like a timelapse. Like a nightmare or one of those terrible crime series on BBC 4. On one of the countertops, John spotted the stolen pictures from his mom’s wallet. On the wall in the living room there was a collection of very few newspaper articles but somehow they were all about a certain soldier and now podcaster. David just stared at him with a blank expression and appeared almost calm. “Right...” John started but suddenly everything happened so fast.

David rushed forward towards the doctor and tackled him to the floor. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. Not the way I planned it but…” He got cut off by Sherlock intervening and trying to get him down from his friend. Quickly the attacker recovered and despite him being almost 15 years older, he was able to fight off the two younger men.

For good ten minutes the living room was the scene of a battle before finally the police knocked down the front door and pulled the fighting men apart. Mariana appeared in the door frame. She waited outside and as she heard what was happening, she quickly called the police.

As David got escorted John watched him, exhausted from the fight and disturbed by the whole situation. “Why? Why me? Why my mother? Just... why?” he managed to ask, looking into the cold face of the man. There was not a single bit of regret. David simply answered: “I was unlucky enough to meet you.”

***

David Fisher had a pretty normal life after getting fired from the university’s cafeteria. He was devastated of course but much to his own surprise he pretty quickly found another work. Everything would've been just fine if he didn't get that text. A text he never should’ve read. But he couldn't help himself.

It was a newspaper article. Sent by a family member because a cousin was in it but on that picture was also the blonde football tricot boy. And David saw red. He made a vicious plan. He would get his revenge on John by getting to his mother first. And then he started to practice on the women that disappeared after he met up with them. But he was clever. The police never found anything concrete and so he walked free until the day John actually showed up at his house.

***

“Scary, it’s always the people you’d least expect it from.” Mariana broke the silence between them as they sat at an almost empty pub. The past few days had been complete chaos. John called a lot with his mom. To take their minds off things Mariana had invited the boys to the pub and they ended up staying there way too long.

“Yeah... you know, it was good that you took on the case. Even if you didn't tell me, which you totally should have, and I'm still slightly mad that you didn't, but... who knows what would have happened if you ignored my mother,” the doctor finally answered after a while. He was feeling better but certainly not completely fine yet.

“No,” Sherlock shook his head. “We should have involved you earlier. It was you who solved this case in a matter of minutes. It would have been way worse if you didn't snoop around Mrs Hudson’s phone.”

John wanted to be offended at first but then he just nodded and simply took a sip of his drink. The detective was right, of course. He knew he shouldn’t have but he was so glad he read that text.

[theblackhate]

Home Is Where The Heart Is | Negan Smith

check the other parts here!

Summary:

There is no longer a home, no place of comfort in that world. One survives to live, risking life to move forward and protect one's people.

But there are always two sides of the same coin. So, is the villain truly the villain? Or is He just the villain in your story?

Pairing: Negan Smith x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

august 25, 2010

Delilah's eighteenth birthday was a tragic one. She spent it in a hospital room, watching her father connected to life-support machines. Carl stayed by the bedside, holding his father's hand, his sobs muffled in the blankets, while their mother stood just outside the door, speaking animatedly with a doctor. Shane tried to calm her, gently placing a hand on her arm.

Delilah felt suffocated in that hospital room. She curled up in a chair in the corner, hoping her father would wake up, but everyone knew, except Carl, that this wouldn't happen. At least, not now.

Carl's sobs grew louder, echoing in the empty room. Delilah had to fight back her own tears at the sight of her little brother in such distress. His desperation was palpable, especially when he offered to donate his blood to help their father.

She rose from the chair and went to Carl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He immediately sought refuge in her embrace, letting go of their father's hand and clinging to her with all his strength, tears soaking her shirt.

"Will he wake up?" he whispered. Delilah stroked his hair, trying to soothe him.

"I don't know," she replied. His sobs grew louder at this, and she felt a pang of guilt for not fully comforting him, but she didn't want to lie. She understood how these things worked, she knew what her father's job entailed, and unfortunately, their mother had prepared her over the years for such a possibility.

But Carl was young; he couldn't grasp what was happening, not yet. "Everything will be okay, Carl. I promise," she whispered like a mantra, holding him close until his cries began to soften.

The door to the room opened, and their mother entered with Shane, both looking devastated. Delilah knew what this meant. The doctor had no good news, and that could only mean one thing: Rick Grimes had very little chance of survival.

"Let's go home, kids," Lori whispered, her gaze never leaving her husband. "Let's give Dad some time to recover." Her voice was barely audible, but they got up anyway, Carl still in his sister's arms as they left the room in silence, followed by Shane.

"I'll take you home," Shane offered. "Go get some rest, and we'll wait for news from the hospital. Don't hesitate to call me for anything; it's what Rick would want."

"Thank you, Shane," Lori replied, accepting the comforting embrace he offered. It made Delilah shiver, and she held Carl even tighter. There was something wrong, something she had never seen before in Shane's eyes, and it was something she wished had remained hidden.

“How's your dad?”

“I don't know. He's in the hospital, and from what I understand, there isn't much good news. I just hope he gets better soon,” Delilah replied over the phone, pacing back and forth in her room. “It was a really shitty birthday present.”

Camilla chuckled on the other end. “I can imagine, but things will get better. I wanted to drop by to see you all, bring something for you and Carl, and even Lori, but my mom won't let me leave because of some weird news on TV.”

“Yeah, I heard something about that. It's probably another hoax. Tumblr is full of them lately. People losing their minds and doing stupid stuff. Did you see that post?”

“Which one?”

“Liza reblogged it. Apparently, cannibalism is making a comeback,” Delilah joked, unaffected by the macabre video circulating online. “It's probably fake, almost certainly, but it's one of the weirdest trends in the past few weeks.”

“Ew!” exclaimed Camilla. “And you watched it? You're crazy; I don't know how you don't throw up at that stuff.”

Delilah shrugged, taking a bite of the apple in her hand. “It's fake anyway. I doubt a group of lunatics would go around America eating people without getting caught. And the person filming it is way too calm.”

“You're weird, girl, let me tell you,” Camilla sighed on the other end. “Ugh, I have to go. My mom is freaking out over this news and wants to go back to Mexico to stay with relatives. She seriously sounds like a crazy woman!”

Delilah laughed. “Alright, see you tonight?”

“I don't think so, especially if my mom keeps this up. Talk to you tomorrow, girl!”

When she finished the apple, she tossed it out the window into the neighbor's garden, unconcerned about the complaints she would hear the next day. Her curiosity was piqued by her mother’s worried voice coming from the kitchen, apparently talking on the phone.

She left her room, peeked into Carl’s and quietly closed the door, seeing him asleep on the bed with one of their father's hoodies as a blanket. The sight made her heart ache; seeing her little brother in such a state broke her heart.

"Is everything okay?" she asked her mother as she came down the stairs, entering the kitchen where Lori was barricading the windows with blankets, blocking out the light. "What are you doing?"

Lori turned, surprised by the intrusion. Her face was full of worry. "Help me," she ordered, tossing Delilah some blankets and heading to the living room.

Delilah started to panic, confused by Lori's strange behavior. "Mom, what’s going on?" she asked, raising her voice, but Lori didn’t answer her directly.

"You're not going out tonight."

"What?! Why?" Delilah exclaimed, dropping the blankets. "You can't do this to me, it’s been planned for weeks! Mom?" She felt her anger rising, irritated by her mother's behavior.

She watched Lori move frantically around the house. "No one is leaving. Now help me until Shane gets here," Lori said, turning to look at her, and Delilah was shocked to see the pure terror on her mother’s face. Her anger turned into sheer fear.

"Mom?" she called. "Mom, what’s happening?"

Lori stopped, running her hands through her hair. "I don’t know, honey, I don’t know. Shane called from the hospital saying something’s happening, people are losing their minds, biting other patients. It's chaos in there, just like in the city. Everyone’s trying to leave."

"Leave from what?" Delilah asked, confused.

"I don’t know, something they mentioned on TV. But now help me and wake Carl up, we need to get ready to go," Lori resumed covering the windows. Heart pounding, Delilah went to wake Carl.

Delilah watched the landscape outside the window. The sky had grown dark, and they had been driving for hours, not knowing exactly where they were headed. She had heard Shane mention a refuge in downtown Atlanta, and the initial plan was to reach it as soon as possible. However, it seemed the entire city had the same idea, as they quickly found themselves stuck in traffic, an endless line of cars ahead of them.

“Wait here,” Lori said to the two kids as she got out of the car, followed by Shane, who went to talk to other people who had also stepped out of their vehicles, realizing they wouldn't be able to get out of this traffic jam anytime soon.

Delilah watched Carl looking around, alert. “Where did they go?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, leaning her head against the window. “They’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”

Carl turned to her. “How can you be so calm?”

“I’m tired,” she answered simply, closing her eyes to block out the external noises: people shouting, arguing, and especially the car horns blaring. “If you sleep, time passes faster.”

“I’m not sleepy, I want Mom,” Carl said, shifting on the seat to look outside, searching for Lori. “They’re coming back!” he exclaimed when he saw Lori and Shane returning with some other people.

“See? I told you it’d be okay,” Delilah said, growing more exhausted with each passing minute. She soon fell asleep, succumbing to the embrace of Morpheus.

But her peace was short-lived. Loud noises jolted her awake, and she noticed the car was now empty. Panic set in as she frantically looked for Carl, hoping he hadn’t wandered off to explore. Relief washed over her when she saw him with a group of people, playing with a blonde girl.

Shane and Lori were near their car, looking up at the sky from where the noise originated. Delilah joined them, also looking up, trying to understand what they were watching.

Lori took her by the shoulders, hugging her. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered in her ear, stroking her hair. “As long as we’re together, it’ll be okay.”

The noise grew louder, and planes flew overhead. It didn’t take them long to realize where they were headed. Delilah followed Shane, who entered the woods, moving in the direction the planes were flying, with Lori right behind them.

“What’s happening?” she tried to ask, but her voice was drowned out by the roar of more planes passing overhead.

They stopped when they emerged from the woods near the highway. Delilah brought her hands to her mouth, horrified by the sight before her. Atlanta was being bombed, and even from that distance, they could see the explosions, the city lighting up in flames.

The refuge was gone, just like the normalcy of their entire world.

[brideofhantengu]

A Famished Heart: the collected diaries of GYOTENGU human!au

TW mentions of mental health, homophobia, drugs and ed/ana.

New York City, 1980 - After being tried before a jury on his alleged role in the breaking and entering of an older woman's home, Hantengu's mental state and physical condition (and endless excuses for his actions) call for a two-year involuntary rehabilitation. There, he is poorly treated for his kleptomania, health and behavioral issues but feigns his wellness in an attempt to be released. The year is 1982 and the unstable Hantengu has been released from the institution he has spent the last two Christmases in. He still suffers from disordered eating and dissociative identity disorder until he crosses paths with Gyokko, an ex-bouncer who frequents queer nightclubs. Gyokko wants to help Hantengu, but the relatively recent HIV epidemic stands between them as society struggles to accept their relationship. These are the recovered pages of their journals.

Hantengu

January 12th, 7:08 pm.

Run. Even if it hurts, run and keep running. If you can't move your legs, use your head. Run away from anything and everything that hurts. This pain does not belong to me, this pain was caused by others who wish nothing but to harm me. 'I couldn't possibly have committed such atrocities,' I say but no one ever hears me. Instead, I reassure myself of my purity until the past becomes a blur. Fuck. My knee's gone out. I can't stop here, I have to keep going. I won't get caught. It's not my fault. My entire life I've been a loyal servant of God. Each finger tip that I glide over each cold, bronze lock and every blade I caress with my thumb to test its dullness, is done in favor of my own self-defense. I've spent my life unwanted, orphaned at a young age. My mother claims she couldn't handle me and suggests I saw a psychiatrist. My father beat me until my mind went blank. I've never been much to look at, then again neither as my mother. I haven't seen my own reflection in years, so a clean, sharp knife is always a surprise. And a delight. But you didn't hear that from me, no. In fact, you didn't hear that at all. You're unsure of what you've just been told and I think I'd like to keep it that way. "Innocent until proven guilty," they say. But I know the truth. Since the day I was born into this accursed world, I've not once uttered a lie. Despite my plight, I'm a virtuous weakling. But no one ever gives me any sympathy!

I'VE NEVER TOLD A LIE!

*knock knock* "Uhh, Han-...Tang-Go?"

The staff always gets my name wrong.

"His name is Han-teng-gu."

"Thank you doctor, er, Hahn-teen-goo? You're set to go. You can collect your things at the nurse's station."

That's it? Just like that? No questions asked?

Until today, they'd fed me nothing but a paper cup of undisclosed medications the size of golf balls and about a drop of tap water. They must have heard I was stubborn 'cause they made me lift my tongue each time to prove I'd swallowed them. This isn't my first time in the madhouse, I've had my run-ins with the law throughout my youth, but my mother and father always swore up and down that I was in desperate need of help. Any mere second of my life spent in an establishment within this city is absolute punishment. For what, I can't be sure, I'm no criminal... But something about the idea of getting to do almost whatever I please and all I gotta do is hide my face and sob in front of a judge and say outlandish shit to get by is pretty liberating. Now I'm no spring chicken, I've got joints that snap, crackle and pop about as loud as a bowl of Rice Krispies when I stand, and my hair's surprisingly maintained it's shade although I'm partially balding, but come on, everyone's got their vices right? Everyone's got a deep-pitted and insatiable hole they gotta fill, don't they? For me, it's this unbearable craving for adrenaline. Even if it's for a fleeting moment I need it real bad.

I've hit just about everywhere these parts at night and it seems a lot has changed while I've been in the rooms. The streets are filled with garbage as they usually are, and the papers read of endless tragedy. Every day a young man dies from this auto-immune disease that eats away at their minds and bodies, painfully consuming them until they die, in this case, dropping like flies all around. Some are saying it's because of the queer but most are blaming it on dirty needles and prostitution. I've got no use for the red light district anyhow, I get my rocks off on the pity of others. Maybe it's because I felt neglected my entire life or maybe it's because I'm truly a sick bastard, but the sight of people clutching their chest as I grovel and cry and beg for mercy gives me enough pleasure to not need sex for weeks or even months.

I've never been a sexual person, as a boy I occasionally reached a hand below the waist line here and there but I can't tell you what my thoughts were that accompanied my self-awareness. Sometimes now, in my socially private moments which have become fewer and further between, I jack myself off to the thought of blood. The idea of picking locks and weaseling my way into the homes of unsuspecting victims just to creep through their halls like a filthy rat and pocketing whatever I can, no matter it's value, makes my heart pound with fervor and lust. My cock stiffens as I throw their possessions in my bag and sometimes when I'm caught, I simply throw myself to the floor and force myself to shake, evoking a sense of forgiveness in my victim. Victim. What an ugly word for the evil. If anyone's the true victim, it's me! I'd like to think of them as 'participants' in my schemes.

9:02pm

As I walk along the jagged sidewalk, cold wind gnawing at my skin pulled taught over my cheekbones, I quickly slip my black raybans on and pull my black trench coat shut. I hold my hat to my head as the wind blows hard, desperately trying to keep myself upright. The thin, deep red button down worn beneath lays like a thin sheet of paper over my chest, not enough to protect me from the elements. The sky is as black as the ace of spades, I gotta find somewhere to stop awhile where I won't be questioned. I shuffle my way quickly down a dark alley to my left, but not enough to look suspicious. I see some distant lights pulsating in the blackness and some fog emitting from the mouths of two male strangers outside a door. I take heed as I approach them, the sign above in hot pink saying "The Fish Bowl." I think I've heard about this place before, a homosexual patient disappeared one day after telling us stories in group about his "illness." The epidemic had him scared shitless that "God's wrath had come upon the gay community", so towards the end of his life he made numerous attempts to get "saved" in rehab, attempting to take his life numerous times, but tragically to succession before Christmas with a shoelace that was somehow sneaked inside.

Suddenly a pale, muscular man barrels out of the big steel door, shouting at the two men and wrapping each arm around their necks. He has two beers in his hands, spilling their foam all over the place. He's clearly inebriated, pushing an assortment of boundaries both profane and unintentional, boasting some illegible tangent about his days of being a body guard for the "Pink Flamingoes" club back in the day, before it became "The Fish Bowl."

Gyokko

January 12th, 9:05pm

The ground is moving beneath my wobbly feet and my world is spinning around me. Suddenly, I spot this strange and older gentleman, dressed in black with a studious, sickly form. "HEY!" I shout, "MiSteR 'I wEaR mY sUnGlAsSeS aT niGhT' GUY!"

Oh, crap! He's looking my way! Or so I think, behind those dark ass shades... "C'mere!" I take my arms back and extend a hand, offering him a beer. "I got TWO BEERS HERE, and ah, *hiccup* well, I want you to-well I wonder if you'll have one of 'em." The dark man just stands there, hesitant. Is he judging me? WHO IS HE JUDGING, BECAUSE I KNOW IT ISN'T ME! "What?! You some kind of beauty critic or something? Come on, it's a nice gesture! Take it!"

Fuck! He's coming towards me! I panic briefly wanting to make a good impression of myself but I'm piss drunk and covered in sweat and beer. "I won't bite. Promise!"

He took it! He actually took it!

"You cold? Come inside, you'll LOOOOVE iiiittt."

I should have held the door for him but I was so fixated on putting one foot in front of the other I practically let it shut on him. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him catch it with his hands, which looked knobby and frail like a ghost! "Hey, I'm sorry! I just- *belch* couldn't wait to get a new face in here." "HEY BARNEY!" I yell at the bartender, "MEET MY NEW FRIEND, HIS NAME IS... what's your name?" "Hanmurumurmur..." "WHAT?" "My name is humhmuhmhm..." "I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE MUSIC, WHAT DID YOU SAAAY?" "Nevermind." "NEVERMIND! MEET MY FRIEND NEVERMIND! Wait, that's not what you said..." after enlightening my new friend all about my budding art career and RICH history as a BOUNCER, I finally got the courage to ask him about himself. "Why don't you take those peepers off? The strobe lights bothering you or something?" He looks kind of old from what light catches his structure, maybe he has cataracts or somethi-

Oh. Oh my god.

His eyes.

HIS EYES!

THOSE HAVE TO BE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL AND HYPNOTIC EYES TO EVER GRACE MY OWN! They're this stunning hue of red circled by a ring of an even deeper red, encapsulated by GORGEOUS dark and sunken sockets. His skin is tan and tight, thin wrinkles peppered in each curve. "I-iii-uhhhh," come on, Gyokko! This is no way to act! I'm a fisherman's son! I may be estranged from my family but I know how to navigate turbulent waters! Fuck! I knocked my beer over. I quickly get up to lean forward and wipe the table with a handful of napkins, noticing my new (and beautiful) friend's coat has become drenched. He notices and stands, quickly pulling it off and tossing it over the table, using it to soak up the rest. I slowly raise my head to look up at him and my eyes are met with a body just as or if not MORE beautiful than his face. He's remarkably thin, but certainly not helpless looking, not at all. His arms and legs are strong, adding an even further sense of mystery to his aura. The top buttons of his shirt are undone, showing off his collar bones and Adams apple freely. I begin to salivate as my eyes fall down his torso, landing on a black leather belt that seemed as if it was latched into it's slimmest size. "What's the problem? Catching flies, or something? You can't stop staring at me."

"Oh! Oh, I didn't realize."

What. The fuck.

I'm stronger than this, far more confident and sure of my surroundings! How could I let myself display such weakness! This is not how any artiste should act! This man might be my magnum opus! Oh, if only I could have him...get him into bed... No, he won't do that, not with this disease wiping out young men by the hundreds..."

"Look, um... I know we just met and all and I probably shouldn't trust you but then again, you probably shouldn't trust me considering we just met and all, but, ahh..."

What is he asking me WHAT IS HE ASKING ME!?!?!

"Do you happen to know anywhere I could crash for the night? Somewhere safe, at least?"

"HYOOOO! As a matter of fact, my roommate just moved out and I've got a bed and everything you can use in my apartment! I hope you'll happily oblige, dear friend! I could use the company."

"You sure? I mean you seem like a great guy and all but-"

"ABSOLUTELY! Come on, you can wear my jacket until we get home."

"Home?"

"ERRR, MY PLACE."

I took him to the back wall with me to grab my coat, I couldn't leave someone as delicate yet so handsome as himself all alone. Just my luck I'd have returned and he'd be saddled up on some other man's lap! Truth be told, I've been holding my piss this whole time in fears of him being swept away!

He flashes me a funny look as I pull my purple rabbit fur jacket off the hook. He shrugs and accepts my offer and we side step each other awkwardly as we decide on whether or not I help him or he puts it on himself. He finally just turned around and let me guide it on him, and god did he look cute! What better clothes to frame a beautiful man than my beautiful taste in outerwear! He turns around to face me and he looks so damn adorable with that fedora on. "How sublime, how sublime!" I grab my keys actually remember to hold the door open for him this time. The attraction I had for this stranger was intoxicating, but the adrenaline of taking him home so easily sobered me up.

"I didn't quite get your name, what did you say it was, again?"

"Hantengu."

"Hantengu. That's a lovely name. Truly sublime!"

We walked in silence, my rapid cycling thoughts drowned out the sound of sirens and traffic. We arrived at my complex, a bit rundown on the outside. "Now I know it's not much but, it's mine and I can express myself freely here, so." We entered and moved throughout the lobby, headed for the elevators when Mary Ann the crackhead called out from along the graffiti laden wall, "Hey, hey, honey! You got any change you can spare, even a nickel?" "Not today, Mary Ann, I'm kind of busy right now." "Oh that's alright honey, who's this?" She scratches at her neck, "This your new boyfriend?" We keep walking, "Nope, just a friend who's staying the night." "I feel you baby, but do be careful! That H-I-V be takin' all kinds of folks around the neighborhood." "Yeahhh," I reply, "can't be too careful, right?" I continue as she lights up a pipe shared by the emaciated and skin-sore covered man beside her.

I had to press the elevator button multiple times to get it to work, which caused Hantengu to look a little uncomfortable. I don't want to worry my handsome guest so I reassured him it was normal and never once failed me. He spoke to me in a trembling and anguished tone of voice, "Tragedy follows me everywhere I go..." This caught me off guard as I've never made a good therapist friend, for I lack that sense of communication since it's never really been shown to me, so I just guide him into the elevator and give him space to speak. Naturally, I'd have changed the subject about now to something that peaks my own intrigue, but I truly felt a connection to this guy and really wanted to take things higher, even if by a single decibel. The lights flickered in the lift, and I almost felt compelled to put my arm around Hantengu to keep him calm, but physical touch could easily blow it should that be something that causes him to spaz. We follow the corridor past some punched holes in the wall and the skunky smell of pot assaulted our nostrils and FINALLY arrive at my door. I fuck with the lock to get us in and the first thing he does is look around sort of amazed. "Whoa... these all yours?" He points to my collection of vases. "Yes, those are mine, how could you tell? The sheer glory of their handicraft and careful precision in each pattern?"

"Well I mean you're...colorful."

"Colorful?" I chuckle.

"Yeah, you know. Look at this jacket, I mean, come on. You've got style."

My heart soared at Hantengu's observation. I always felt the world needed more color in it, so I accepted the position of delivery to that vibrant and exotic touch the planet needed so! "Sit, sit! Make yourself comfortable. Want me to take your hat for you?"

"Um, no, I think I'll keep it on."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I feel weird without it."

"I respect your wishes but just know I won't judge."

I removed the bandana around my head and shook my purple hair out, tying it up into a half bun before rolling up my sleeves and opening the fridge. I think the sight of my hair loosened him up a bit because I saw him lean back in the corner of my eye and adjust himself leisurely. He spread his legs in a masculine way, which was turning me on but I didn't say anything. Instead, I cleared my throat and offered him something to gnash on. "You hungry, Hantengu? Can I fix you something to eat?"

"Oh, uh, no. No thanks."

"You sure?"

"Y-yeah, I'm...I'm sure."

I closed the fridge after grabbing a slice of cold pizza and brought it over to my sectional couches with me. I sat on the loveseat parallel to Hantengu who was seated on the full size. I'm sure it was impolite to eat before him, but I wasn't in the habit of being fully aware of my approach towards others. "Where are my manners," I sighed and shook my head before I continued chewing and spaced off. I noticed Hantengu was getting sort of agitated across from me, readjusting his legs and tapping his fingers on his knee. It looked like he was trying to cover his nose with his other hand, which made me wonder if the smell of the neighbors pot was bothering him. "Hantengu you look a little unwell, are you sure I can't get you something to eat?" Hantengu just stared at my pizza, glossy eyed. "HYO! Someone's contact high and got the munchies, huh?" What a dumb ass thing to say to my guest. What a way to make him feel welcome.

12:37 am

Some time passed of us just shooting the shit about the local news and drugs, and I noticed him yawning. I offered him the guest room but he insisted on sleeping on the couch, which I found quite odd but I understood his concern. My body was fatigued from a breaking myself into a sweat at the club, but something inside me felt so alive and giddy. I laid out a palette of old knitted blankets on the sofa and made sure he was comfortable before I took myself to bed.

January 13th, noon.

No idea how long I slept but the first thing I did was jump out of bed and go check on my company. The blankets were folded neatly in a stack and I couldn't resist the urge to look around and call out for him. "Hantengu?" "Han- oh my." I accidentally walked in on him taking a piss in the bathroom, to which he reacted shyly at first but then calmly as he flushed and swiftly walked past me. I felt my face go flush and my body froze completely. I thought to myself, 'Did I just... see his penis?" I ran back to apologize to him and he explained it wasn't entirely his sex he felt exposed over, but the fact that he didn't have his hat on! Silly me, I didn't even notice because my perverted eyes were fixated on his cock. It took a second for me to realize but his insecurity was the fact that he was balding, and had a rather large protrusion on his forehead. It almost looked something like leprosy or even some kind of tumor, even. Yet, the way his black wavy hair looked tucked behind his ears, his defined and angular jaw and tendons peeking through each muscle's movement took my breath away; something that only happens when I see my own reflection and finished artwork. "So are we not gonna talk about the fact that I totally just...saw you take a piss in my toilet? Orrrr,"

"Why, do you want to talk about that or something?"

"What! No, I mean,"

"Well do you?"

"I...!"

Hantengu stood up and tucked his shirt into his slacks, and spoke in a very straightforward manner, "Look, I appreciate you letting me stay the night. Take care, ok?" I wanted to saw my ears off at the sound of his take-off. By reflex, I jumped in front of my door and stuck my arms out at my hips, blocking him. "I'm sorry? What's going on here."

"WAIT!" I exclaimed. "Don't go. Not yet."

Hantengu sat down silently and looked down at his feet before he folded his arms and leaned back. "I don't know what your deal is here, but I gotta go." "Where." I demanded an answer. "Where do you have to be that's so important."

"Listen buddy, that's none of your bu-"

And like a total fucking goofball, I charged towards him and grabbed his chin, directing his gaze up towards mine. "Nowhere. Because if you did, you wouldn't have asked to stay."

Silence. He said nothing.

I noticed his eyes make some sort of triangle shape at each eye and at my lips. Something about the way he inspected my face put the world in a stand-still and all I knew at that point was, no matter how dangerous it may have seemed, I needed to kiss him. I leaned down to press my lips into his, and he didn't really react at first until I felt him part his thin, dry lips to invite my mouth deeper onto his. He stood up and took my face in his cold and wrinkled hands, covered in liver spots and veins. Each bulbous knuckle that bent ever-so-lightly at their joint, each hair on the back of his head that graced his narrow shoulders, each line and sharp angle of his face... I was beginning to admire him. This man was my muse from the moment we crossed paths. Star-crossed lovers, so to speak? Whatever it was, I was falling in love and knew I couldn't let myself be ashamed of it.

~End of part one~

[spookymultimedia]

Violated at Birth

Liane confesses the truth to Eric Cartman about his genital mutilation surgery

"What do you want bitch?!" Cartman yelled as he stomped down the stairs to his Mother, who was calling for him.

"Eric, I've scheduled you for top surgery. You'll be able to get those boobs removed before Christmas." She said it like she had found the cure for cancer. He stared up at her with an angry look in his eye.

"WHAT?!" he screamed and threw up his hands.

"You need to get those things removed eventually. It would be better to remove them now while they're still small and easy to remove."

He stared at her and scowled. He was shaking with anger. "DID YOU EVEN THINK TO ASK IF I WANT THAT!??"

"Eric!" She said appallingly.

"I'm fine with my body! I don't want fucking surgery!! Don't I fucking matter!!? Doesn't how I fucking feel about my body matter!!?? What happened to my body, my choice!!??" He screamed and pounded his fists against the table.

"This is for your own good. I want you to grow up into a nice healthy boy. You'll be thankful when you're older, trust me."

"I'M HAPPY WITH MY BODY!! THE ONLY ONE WHO'S DISGUSTED HERE IS YOU!!" he pointed at her bitterly, angry tears tipped his eyes.

"Eric plea-"

"Don't fuck with my body!! Don't mess with it!! I don't ever want a single fucking surgery done to me!!"

She went silent.

"Well!??" He barked out.

She gave him a guilty look.

"You. . .you didn't- you didn't put me through surgery as a baby? Did you?"

She crossed her arms and stared off sadly at nothing. A cold chill ran down his spine.

". . . .mom?" He mumbled "you, you didn't, right?"

She sighed, "When you were born, the doctors couldn't tell if you were a boy or a girl. I was expecting a girl when I was pregnant, but when I got the choice, I decided I would rather have a boy-"

"Choice?? Choice about what?" He felt confused and scared.

"Whether to have the doctors make you a boy or a girl of course. The doctors said it wouldn't be easy to make you a boy but they managed to rearrange your private parts to look more male. They did a pretty good job considering all the complications"

He felt sick to his stomach hearing what she said. She knew? She knew about this? He blinked back years. He had never felt so violated in his life.

"You- you knew? You knew that I was intersex this entire time??" He stammered out with a shaky voice.

"Of course I did."

"Why didn't you tell me. . .?" His voice cracked, "why did you lie to me?? Why did you tell me I don't have balls because I'm a late bloomer!?"

"You are a normal boy! You just have some issues with your body."

He looked at her heartbroken. He loved his body. Why couldn't everyone else love it too?

"I hate you." He mumbled

"Eric. . ." She said softly, "don't be upset. I know you're not completely male but we did the best we could do-"

"YOU RAPED ME!! YOU FUCKING RAPED MY BODY AND MUTILATED ME!!! YOU LET THEM TOUCH ME AND CUT ME OPEN LIKE A FUCKING FROG!!"

"Sweetie calm down. They didn't rape you. Would you like some cookies?? We could go buy a new toy! Would that make you feel better poopsikins?" She said in an infantilizing tone to her 14 year old child.

"I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU YOU FUCKING BITCH !! " he yelled as he ran out of the house and went towards Kyle's house.

He pounded on the door and ran inside as soon as Sheila had opened it.

"THAT FUCKING BITCH I HATE HER. I FUCKING HATE HER. I HOPE SHE DIES!!" He ran into the kitchen and just sat on the floor, overwhelmed with anger.

"What?? Who??" Sheila asked, confused as she shut the door. Kyle stared at him, mad at him for busting into his house so rudely while he was eating.

"MY MOM IS A CRAZY BITCH!! SHE'S A FUCKING PSYCHO!!"

Sheila bent down, "Calm down and breathe, I can't understand you."

"She's forcing me to get top surgery without even asking me about it!! She's evil, I hate her!!" He tugged at his hair and screamed.

"WHAT WHAT WHAT?!!" She said upset.

She stood up and stormed out of the house to give Liane a piece of her mind. Kyle sat there stunned and confused. He looked down at Cartman who was hugging his knees.

"Are you okay?"

"NO I'M NOT OKAY KAHL!!"

"Well, I'm gonna go watch Terrance and Philip." He quietly put his dishes away and walked to the living room. He sat criss cross on the couch and turned on the TV. Cartman calmed down after a moment. He trudged over to the couch and laid down on the couch next to Kyle.

"You want a cookie?" Kyle gestured to the plate of cookies on the table.

He shook his head no. He stared at the TV but couldn't pay attention. His mind was racing. He was thinking about the surgery. He remembered the unexplainable nightmares and panic attacks he felt that were accompanied with the weird pain in his groin. He suddenly felt this rush of sadness and horror. He would never be able to see his genitals as nature made him. To see himself without surgery. He didn't get any choice in the matter. They saw what they considered a "defect" and plucked it away from him. He didn't want to be changed. He didn't want this. This wasn't right. This was wrong. His throat closed up on him. His vision went blurry with tears.

Kyle glanced down at him and felt awful, watching the tears roll down his face. Kyle hadn't seen him this hurt since Chef died. Cartman helplessly sobbed into the couch.

"What's wrong?"

Cartman looked up at him. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He didn't know how to explain it. He wasn't even sure if Kyle would understand. How could any of his friends understand? Their genitals were acceptable. They didn't know how it felt to be fixed when there was nothing that needed to be fixed.

Cartman just buried his face into the couch and cried.

Kyle froze and stared at him. He had no idea what to say or do, or what the fuck he was crying about. He felt bad for him. He looked seriously hurt. He put a hand on his back. He curled up closer to Kyle, who petted his upper back quietly. They stayed that way for an hour without saying anything.

Sheila came back home and knelt next to Eric and spoke softly to him.

"I spoke with your mother and she agreed to cancel the surgery. No one is going to do anything with your body again."

He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"You can stay here as long as you need to."

"Can I spend the night?" He mumbled

"Of course you can."

"Thank you," he whispered. He took a cookie and started to eat it.

She stood up and went to the kitchen to start on supper. Kyle followed her.

"Mom? What's wrong with Cartman?"

"Oh Kyle. When a baby is born, the doctors look at your private parts and determine if you're a girl or a boy."

"And I was called a boy because of my penis?"

"That's right. When Eric was born he had ambiguous genitalia that didn't fit their description of a boy or a girl. So Ms.Cartman decided to let the doctors mutilate him to have something close to a penis."

"Is that bad?"

"It's very bad. That surgery is unnecessary and harmful. Ms.Cartman wants to make decisions about Eric's body without his consent."

". . Oh. . Oh no." Kyle understood everything now. That was sick. Who could do such an evil thing to a child. Why was this being done legally?? This is cruelty! He had to do something about it, but what? He wasn't sure but he would figure out something.

[imzsuzsis-blog]

"If anyone were to ask, I'm fine, yes, I have some problems, but that's what it comes with." I got up smiling, not excited by the scandal around me, especially since most people didn't even know the truth. I wasn't drunk, I just drank non-alcoholic drinks, so I was there to talk to my friends from Holland that I won't be partying for a long time. I said this, they just pushed the booze into me, but I didn't allow it twenty times, at least I told them that I'm not pregnant, don't leave me alone, no, I'm not asking now. "You really weren't hooked?" "No, I don't even know who the girl is from the pictures, I don't even know her name, I just know that she hangs over me and keeps apologizing for some soccer player I've never heard of, Logan." I looked in front of me and knew that one more fight still awaits me today after Oscar, Loki is the spontaneous house purchase here in Miami, but I didn't know what to do, I couldn't stand Monte-Carlo, everyone was hanging on me, even though there are still nineteen contestants here in the field instead of me, plus Bia, my girl belly I don't understand why I'm the big number, why not Alex? "Lando, are you crying?" I nodded and started hugging Logan. "You know, I'm moving out of there because of the pressure, I hate it, it might be nice and all, but I can't live there."

I sat down next to Lando on a piled-up bench, it's such a stupid thing here that they don't give a normal seat either to seniors or outside the paddock. I always thought this was bullshit, but I never mentioned it. "Dude, yes, it's a cliché, but I know how you feel. I've also had a falling out with my partner, but we've always made up for something. Believe me, you too, maybe he will like the house." "I don't know if it's a typical house in a residential park, but it was at a good price with a garden, and I also looked at whether it was possible to keep a pet, they said it was possible, and I also answered the child's question with a little good-natured lie." He scratched the back of his neck and bit his lip, he leaned against the wall and a faint but tearful smile appeared on his face. "They said yes, all that's left is the paper work, but there are many rules that we will try to follow."

"Oscar?" "Lando?" I stood in front of Lando with my arms crossed and grimaced at him with candy in my mouth. "You know that because of your move, I can't even see you, because you didn't say you were going to leave Monaco just like that, you English bastard." "There you go? You would do the same if you too were picked apart by the Paparazzis every day! Huh?” I slapped him and left them crying, I couldn't stand Oscar's attitude towards my paparazzi photos, he keeps linking to them where he thinks I've lost weight while pregnant, where I've gained weight. "Fuck Oscar, of course I've gained weight, I'm pregnant!!!! Just look at me with your beautiful brown eyes, if you can't see me, go to the doctor, you bastard!!!!" ,,To a doctor????? It's not about the photos here, it's about the fact that you didn't tell me that you moved away." I was standing behind Lando with full eyes, I couldn't believe what he was saying again, he was starting to get hysterical and again publicly. He pulled out the I'm a diva card, he knows that I hate this and I can get really upset about it. "Lando, stop now, especially since Loki is here too!!!!" "There is no lying pig here, we are lost in the house!!!!!"

"Lando, Lando, calm down, remember what DR Yin said." I took off his baseball cap turned inside out and put it in my back pocket, ruffled his messy hair, he was so cute, angry and sad together, yes, his family, especially his mother, said he can't handle his feelings as much as an average boy of his age. He has ASD sometimes. "But, but Oscar is a lying pig." "Baby, he doesn't just want to help you and keep away from you the many evil uncles you are so afraid of." I kissed him forehead, but he turned him head away, I think that's a sign that he doesn't want to interact with me, and he didn't even make eye contact. ,,Oh, my dear, are you scared? it's okay, it's okay." I saw that he couldn't bear to cry all day from behind and I caressed the back of him neck and looked into him beautiful eyes. "Shall we go?" "Yes, I hate this place, I feel bad here and I'm tired and I want to sleep, Loki."

,,Where, where is my avocado cream sandwich? Loki?” I looked at him shocked and tired, then I leaned back on his shoulder and watched the commotion in the paddock, which was sometimes funny to me and sometimes repulsively disgusting. "Here you go, my cute selective eater." I put on my recently purchased sunglasses and bit into the sandwich with good taste and smiled with tearful face at how lamely Charles catches the ball and how lamely he throws it, and this makes him and his girl giggle. ,,I never understood this stupid media day, especially this jokey part, I always had to do this and now finally... Well Charlie!!!! my sandwich!!!!” I threw the ball back to him and it didn't go to him. "Nice throw Lando!" "You're welcome Carlos!" "Well, we're playing here, would you like to throw it back?" "Yes, of course, you'd better please the media again, mate." We'd rather get out of here with Loki before we find ourselves in the middle of a Ferrari dispute again, like after the tennis final because Carlos refused to introduce his girlfriend to Charles, so Carlos and his barmaid asked us for a free ride to the airport because they got caught in a fight. "These are childish." "Don't even tell Loki that I've been with Carlos, but we're breaking up because of a small quarrel." We got in, but my phone rang. "Sorry job, wait here."

[ameliawarnerr]

Evanescent

(She was the evanescent of his life— there and gone.)

Part 8

(Part 7: here)

Warning: Sexual Content

Jake's Pov

“I lied. To everyone. That lie costed my mother's life, apparently.” I observe her cringing at her use of words. Sometimes, I hate that I can understand her every movement which just puts me in a difficult spot.

She sits in front of me, sharing the couch with Alex while maintaining a significant gap. I sit beside Dan on the couch kept parallel to theirs. Something pulls me away from her ever since I found out she knew Alex was coming here to get here. I haven't whispered a thing to her since then. The ride home was silent— everyone lost in their minds, having thousands of questions that didn't make it to their lips. Neither did mine.

All my questions are now blurred, the only clear desperate question that evokes a fear in me is- will you leave me to go home?

I cannot ask her even though I am dying to know. I fear the answer that's why I would avoid finding it till the very last moment.

Even now, I (or Dan) didn't ask her any questions or explanation. Both me and Dan threw ourselves on the couch. Amelia sat in front of us, silently. Alex followed Amelia home— I mean that's what he came for, to take her home. After a good ten minutes, Amelia started speaking and we are listening because she is about to answer our every question. And my most fearing one at the end. I could use that time to prepare.

“She had a hole in her heart ever since she was a kid. I thought it was nothing to worry about because it never became a serious issue regarding her health. It was just there. Out of blue, it became serious. Last month, I got a call from Rose– my sister. She told me about her condition and asked me for some amount of money because my mom had to go through a surgery.”

More silence.

“I—” Her voice cracks and then I finally look at her. All this time, I avoided seeing her face just fine. Her head is hung low as she stares at nothing. I hate seeing her like that. I have always seen her being the strongest person I have ever seen. She is confident and never gives in to fear. Hell, she was even ready to go to somewhere totally foreign to save the life of a girl she never met. But right now, she looks so vulnerable that I barely restrain myself from getting up and having her in my arms.

“I had the money that could have made the surgery possible last month. But I lied about not having any money. Rose told me the doctor had advised two months to have the surgery done and I thought it would still be alright if we do it a little later. The money I lied about was what I had saved to open a drama institute of my own. I—” She finally looks up at the ceiling, inhaling heavily to get the maximum air in her lungs. She exhales. “I became so very selfish. The money—” She again stops herself, shaking her head. “There is no use justifying it. When I found out about the death, it was through a text and the moment I read Rose’s text, I became aware of what a terrible person I am.”

That's all I needed to hear to let my second thoughts fall. I get up and stand beside the arm of the couch, I offer her my hand. “That’s enough for today. Let’s go. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

She looks at me with glassy eyes but no actual tear run down her cheek. I would have already wiped them if they had. She shakes her head. “No, Jake, it's alright. I am alright.” You clearly aren't. I wanted to say but she beats me to it. “I have to get it out.” She says but still takes my hand and intervene our fingers.

I stand there as she continues. “I couldn't handle the grief and the guilt so I avoided my family. I changed my number and lost contact with everyone. The guilt was too strong. I burnt all the money I had saved. With the little money I had left, I changed my apartment. I had only bought a new phone and settled in my new apartment when I got a message from Thomas. Duskwood was my distraction and an escape. I spent all the time thinking of the possibilities and gave a little time to myself to think of my own fucked up life.” I squeeze her hand and she squeezed right back, reassuring that she's alright.

She’s still strong, I remind myself. Her showing us her vulnerable self doesn't ultimately mean she's weak.

Dan speaks first. “So they sent him,” he points at Alex. “To bring you back home?”

Amelia nods.

I internally scream for Dan to ask her if she will go since I am incapable of asking myself. It's as if Dan gets some part of it, he looks at me. Then he nods at Amelia and then to the ceiling, signing me to take her to the room. He then proceeds to nod at Alex— who didn't notice it, as if saying I'll take care of him.

Out of all people in the group, I never thought it would be Dan I'd befriend.

I nod back at him. I stand in front of Amelia, offering my other hand to her. “You’re tired. Let’s go.” She nods without looking at me. Taking my both hands, she stands up. She actually is tired. I fight the urge to carry her upstairs myself.

Once we get out of their sights, I pull her closer to me. She wraps her hands around my waist, stopping us both from walking. I hold her by a hand on her waist and the other on her head, caressing it softly. “You did great just now. You are the strongest person I know.” I kiss her head.

“And the most terrible.” She adds. I pull back a little, only to see her face. She looks at me, showing her vulnerability more than before.

I cup her face. “You are not a terrible person for following your dreams, Amelia. You could have never known what was going to happen. You relied on what the doctor said. It's not your fault. Stop blaming yourself.”

She shakes her head, overwhelmed and slipping out of my embrace but I hold her close to me. “You are only saying that because—”

“Because I know it is true. If you are thinking that I am saying that because I care about you or love you, well, I do care about you and love you but what I am saying right now is purely the truth. And it's okay to be selfish when it comes to something you love so immensely.” I relate too that selfishness too much.

“But you,” She inhales, tearing building up in her eyes. “You walked away without saying anything when you realised that I was aware of Alex. I swear to god, Jake, I never said anything because I never thought—”

I press my forehead to hers, her lips inches away from mine. My eyes are closed still I can feel her breath on my skin. “Shh. I got a little carried away, okay? It has nothing to do with you. I just had the impression that you didn't know, that's it. I am already over it. Don’t worry about that.”

“Jake, you, you are perfect.” Though I strongly disagree with her still I smile, the happiness tenders my heart a little. Before I know, her lips are moving against mine.

I kiss her back as my hand slides down to her neck, angling it upwards. The kiss is soft and slow at first but as her lips starts moving faster, I revert the pressure. I part her lips with my tongue, taking the control, as I slowly pin her against the wall. Her hands go to my neck, pulling. My other hand slides down her curves, settles on her thigh. I push my thumb under her dress and she shivers a bit. I love how she reacts to my touch. Soon, my slightly cold hand touches her warm skin as my hand moves up her inner thigh and a moan escapes her mouth as I tug on her lower lip.

I dug my head lower, as my eyes meet her neck and before I can kiss her—

“Jake, you impatient little piece of shit, we can hear you.”

I move my head back, taking in the sight of her with widened eyes and breathless. Her rythmic breathing syncing with mine. “Let’s go upstairs.” She says, desperately. And I fear she's only trying to avoid the issue again, finding yet another escape. Her eyes are full of lust and soul. “Jake, I need you. Please.” She says with desperation in her voice. And I lose sight of right and wrong. I just want her. Need her. I have no idea what tomorrow brings and I don't want to waste as much as a second.

I nod. But then something hits me. I gesture her to move first. She walks in front of me as I take out my phone from my pocket. Till we climb the stairs and Amelia enters the room, I change the password of Dan’s email changing it to a random group letters which I wouldn't remember.

As I enter the room, Amelia snatches my phone away from my hand and before I can figure anything out, she presses me against the wall. Kissing my neck, she puts the phone on the side by table. Her hands touches my skin under my shirt and I help her remove it. Her hands wrap around my neck as she kisses me. One of her hand slides down to my chest and slowly touching the button of my pants. It doesn't stop there and moves even lower.

I am not done yet. I want to tell her but instead I grab her wrist. I glance at the partially opened door. I press her against the door, closing the door. I clasp my hand to her other wrist and move both of her hands above her head. With one hand, I hold them there, as I dug my head and plant hurried kisses on her neck. A moan escapes her mouth and I lose control letting go of her hands and grabbing her thighs. She instantly wraps her legs around my hips.

She moves her hips lower against me and gasps. Again, I find this position highly unfair to me. I don't like my hands being still. She kisses my lips again and I slowly move us both to the bed. I hover her and then I move back. She looks at me, confused. “Take off your dress before I do it in a non ideal way.”

She wastes no time taking off the piece of cloth and throwing it somewhere out of my sight. Good.

I hover her again. My lips an inch away from hers but I maintain the gap. My finger rubs against her lightly and she moves her hips, craving more. I rub my fingers against her wirh more pressure, earning waves of noises from her. Impatience builds inside her. She tugs on her underwear. And I move her hand away pinning it away her hand along with her other hand. “On my terms. Tonight,” I say against her lips. I move to her ear and whipser, “I’m in control.”

On that, she closes the gap between us and kisses me desperately. I lower my hip against her and she gasps against my mouth. Her back arches and I easily slip my hand under her back and slowly move it upwards until I find the hook of her bra. I unhook it and slide the straps off her shoulder. I remove it, throwing it somewhere on her floor. And I move back a little, taking in the sight of her half naked under me. I will never get used to this.

I let go of her hands and kiss her stomach. I touch the hem of her last clothing on her body, waiting for her to give me the needed push. Her head in my hair gives it to me.The last piece of her clothing joins the floor. I grab her thighs as I lift her hips up. I dug my head lower and lower until my lips are on her sensitive and moist part. Her hand stays in my hair, pulling my hair which only makes me go faster.

Our desires meld together and we overwhelm eachother with pleasure, forgetting a world exists outside this room.

I kiss her temple as she lies in my arms. Her head against my chest. We took shower and the smell of her hair somehow soothes me. I don't know if that makes sense.

“Hey,” I whisper in case she's fallen asleep. But she hasn't.

“Did you just call me or am I just getting obsessed with you?” She asks and I can't help but to smile.

“I did call you.” I say. “But that doesn't ultimately shut down the other possibility.” I can't see her face completely but I do see her lips curving into a smile. “Aren’t you hungry? Do you want me to get you something?”

“Wow. I just realised how hungry I am. Bring everything you can, please.” She says.

I laugh. “Alright.” As much as I hate doing it, I let go off her.

I move to the door, grabbing the knob. I almost turn it but then she stops me.

“Jake.” And I can hear the fear and insecurity in her voice. Whatever is coming next out of her mouth, I don't want to hear it. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I am going to do now?”

“I’ll get some food first.” I try to avoid but she's already on her feet. I can sense her behind me but I don't turn around. I don't want to do this.

“Jake, please. Don’t make it harder than it already is.”

My mind halts. Her words take a great amount of courage to settle in because I wouldn't be making it difficult for her if she was going to stay. I am making it difficult for her? Making what difficult? Telling me that she’s staying here is not a difficult thing to say.

But telling me that she’s leaving is. And I fear that's exactly what she is going to tell me.

Part 9

--------------------------------

Heyyyyy

Thoughts??

What do you think of Dan and Jake's friendship?

Thanks for the support!

Love y'all!

[eruherdiriel]

your wip names are all so non-descriptive, I'm so intrigued by them!! I have a love/hate relationship with apocalypse media, so I'm so curious and hesitant to ask about that one... but also x-files AU, right up my alleyyyyyy

(WIP game)

Ah, for the apocalypse one, I was struggling with the threat haha, so I think what I really want to write is a dark roadtrip fic. I haven't touched that one in a while, but looking back, it has some stuff I like.

X-Files AU, my beloved. I don't have much for this, just a paragraph of brainstorming and the very beginning of two scenes. I want to write this, though.

Snippets from both below!

Apocalypse

All he sees is grey and dull brown, day after day after day, and he starts to believe he imagined the color that filled the world during his childhood, before his mother sent him away.

You'll be safer in the North, she'd told him.

Safe from what, Jon had wanted to ask, but he didn't, couldn't, for he knew it would upset her into silence.

The days were awash in color then—his mother's chestnut hair gleaming in the sunlight, father's cheeks ruddy with laughter, the yellow fruit growing from the trees in the yard.

But when the nights came and his parents argued in hushed tones after they believed Jon was asleep, the color seemed to drain away—the blue of his bedroom walls deepening to an abyssal black, the sandy hue of his skin going wan, and the purple of his eyes fading to grey.

....

"What do I call you?" Jon asks.

She hesitates. And then, "Alayne."

Liar. Jon saw her eyes flick to the east like it held her answer, noticed the drag of her lip under her teeth after she spoke.

"What's your name?" she asks.

"Howland." Jon's own lie comes easier, the name of Mother's diminutive friend tucked into his cheek where he'd been saving it. If "Alayne" knows he lied, too, she gives no indication of the fact. Nothing good comes of a stranger knowing your name, not anymore.

....

"You knew well enough to lie about your name but not well enough to not come here in the first place." Seeing her flinch, he adds, "Don't worry, I won't ask who you really are, Alayne."

"Did you lie as well? About your name?'

"Nah. No use in hiding when you're no one of consequence," he says with a grin, but he's not sure the act convinces her this time. She nods slowly.

"Everyone is of consequence to someone," Alayne says softly.

And everyone who ever loved me is dead or lost.

X-Files AU

“The Others are real,” he huffs.

“I'm sure they are,” Sansa says, clenching her fist behind her so she won’t roll her eyes at him. The Others are all children’s stories and old legends, but this is who the Bureau has sent her to work with, a grown man who still believes in fairy tales. Top of my class at the academy and a medical doctor on top of that. Who did I piss off to wind up here?

(She knows who, but it's useless to dwell on now.)

Yet she also knows Jon Snow isn’t an idiot, despite his beliefs. Rumor has it, he went undercover with the wildlings for months, but that operation is still classified. Officially, he is one of the best criminologists in the FBI, but also one of its biggest jokes.

“We’re wasting our time looking for the killer among the Free Folk. Yeah, some of them are thieves and murderers, but it’s usually crimes of opportunity or desperation with them. This was premeditated.”

“What about Mance Rayder?” Sansa watches for some reaction in Snow, but the light wafting into the basement office illuminates only the dust in the air, while Snow stands in the shadow beyond. “Wasn’t he planning some big attack on Castle Black?”

A grunt comes from her partner. “I don’t know about that. But if he was, it would have been a full-scale attack. These are targeted.” Liar, she thinks. So that’s what you were involved with. And if Snow helped foil the attack on Castle Black, it would make sense why the Bureau puts up with his growing obsession with the supernatural.

haha, they both catch each other in a lie in these!

[vvatchword]

Soooo I may have fucked up.

As you may not realize, i love people. I smile at everyone. I go out of my way to help folks, have no fear of strangers, and have no concept of hierarchy, so I treat everyone the same, from child to service worker to CEO. I also have some distinct quality that makes other people glom onto me. This has been a lifelong superpower/curse. For some reason, strangers can tell I'm a big ol softie from a distance. Thus I tend to attract everyone from kids to con artists, all for obvious reasons.

This quality used to drive me insane as a young adult. I lived in a town with a big mental institution, so it was common for people with mental disorders to literally seek me out of crowds. I note this because, well, what's the most common problem afflicting the homeless?

I've never lived in a place with such a big homeless population, so I never thought twice about my general behaviors and continued smiling at everyone, talking to them without hesitation, helping out with cash here and there, etc. Well, friends, there's just one problem with this: the homeless are treated like trash at worst and ignored at best.

So.

Uh.

Usually my interactions with them has been super wholesome. Big smiles back and forth, neat conversations, cool stories, you know. It took a year and a half before I realized I was fucking up (and it's possible I was being mistreated before, coincidentally, i just can't tell because I have the social skills of an affable dog). I got chased by two homeless guys for four blocks. I had to trick one of them to escape.

"never again!" I told myself. "Stop being so goddamn smiley!"

Does this work? No. Self is a golden retriever. Self wants to love on all the people. At one point I was telling Zak all about how I met a neat guy and listened to his life story and she was like, "STOP"

Oh. Yeah :(

(he went to jail for killing a man. In retrospect, i may be an idiot.)

For the second time in four months, a homeless dude has glommed onto me, and it's a little concerning. He's a street artist who I had a great interaction with about two weeks back. He was waiting at my bus stop in soft shoes and hospital scrubs with stacks of art all made up with craft paint. I was excited. I'd seen him at other bus stops and had wanted to peruse his wares. I told him so. He was so delighted. I bought a couple of pictures for $20 (you could choose how much to pay, i decided to treat him like I'd treat any artist) and put the art up in my office.

I saw him again yesterday and, uh.

He saw me and said, "Hello, my friend!" And got up for an awkward hug. I think I would have been more gung-ho had i not immediately flashed back to how the previous chase sequence started (overt affection).

"Koranado, how's the art going?" I asked.

"good, my friend, good. You know, I love you," he said.

I laughed nervously. I mean yeah you can use "love" affectionately, but I'm so bad at reading strangers and I didn't want to give him the wrong idea.

"how about this," he said. "I like you. So I don't get in trouble."

"haha I like you too," i said.

"I'm clean, you know," he said. "Got a full checkup from the doctor and I'm clean."

He was looking at me meaningfully, my friends in hell. Now, it is possible he was worried I thought he was dirty or something instead, but that wasn't a concern of mine at all. It's a Texas summer at 104°, everyone is a filthy bog monster, including me. I just don't know how to fucking lie.

"congratulations!" I said. "You know, every time I see you out here with your art, I smile. I hope you carry that with you."

"You are a mother's milk. Speaking of mother's milk, can I have any money for a meal? do you see any art you like?"

"I'm so sorry! I literally have no money. I'll come back when I get paid, though."

"that's okay. That's okay. Here, take this. Make sure no one is watching when you shower. No one is watching."

"advice to live by," i said. (Self!!! said my inner voice. Self why!!!)

He gave me pictures on the house--his best yet--but overall it was. Uh. A little cursed.

Now, I'm pretty sure this guy is manic, from some things I've seen. And who knows what his actual qualities as a human being are. But now I'm concerned about going back to my bus stop. And that makes me feel bad on multiple levels. The homeless aren't that far from any of us. They are human beings who deserve respect and care. But I also can't sacrifice myself in the name of kindness.

The world ain't fair, folks. The world ain't fair at all.

[confessions-official]

tw suicide, abuse, religion, divorce

I grew up believing i was legally blind

I grew up believing i was legally blind and it was probably all a lie by my attention seeking severely mentally disturbed mother

Some kind of fucked up munchausen by proxy

I've been living and adapting to the world as if i were legally blind nearly my whole life

So much so that i don't know what i can and can't see, what's a learned behavior vs a reasonable use of accommodations.

It wasn't just my mother telling me, but all the school officials, all the doctors and rehab specialists and therapists and school psychologists and TVIs.

so now i can't trust any of those adults.

it was a lot of my identity too

I don't know how to cope with this. i don't know how i stay so happy, how i bounce back like this. someday this all is going to catch up with me and when that day comes i don't think ill survive it.

I think if i told the therapists they'd take me away from my mom

And she definetely deserves it, im almost certain she knew it was lies

But i don't want her gone and i don't want her nice money and her nice house and my nice pets to go away, because my dad (divorced) lives in a gross dirty house with his gross dirty mom, and he wouldn't be able to take care of my nice pets.

I hope someday i have the courage to tell this to someone out loud, not anonymously

For now, i don't want to tell everyone that i was wrong,

thag i lied about having a disability,

but it wasn't really a lie because i didn't know

And the teachers tell me that they never said i was legally blind and that they didn't know i believed thag, and that they don't understand how a smart girl boy like me didn't figure it out

But they're liars

They're gaslighting me

Because ive never not introduced myself as legally blind

And I've never not asked my parents over and over if i was really legally blind

And every time i asked she said yes, the damned liar

I'm so tired

I wonder why i don't feel depressed about this like i should

I wonder why i try not to think about how she lied to me

I wonder if I'll ever actually get to feel the brunt of this loss

Of the loss of my identity

The loss of my ability to trust doctors and adults

Of the loss of my faith in my mother

I wonder if when i feel myself lose these that i will fly up with a necklace of rope to heaven

And be struck down to hell like the dirty liar sinner that i am

.

[sky-neverending]

y’all can ignore this but i want Vecnas monologue on hand so i’m copy pasting it here for now 😋 so…. long ass monologue below the cut!! feel free to use and save as needed

Why do you cry for them, Eleven? After everything they did to you? Hmm? You think you need them, but you don't. You don't. Oh, but I know you're just scared. I was scared once too. I know what it's like to be different. To be alone in this world.

Like you, I didn't fit in with the other children. Something was wrong with me. All the teachers and the doctors said I was… "Broken," they said. My parents thought a change of scenery, a fresh start in Hawkins, might just cure me. It was absurd. As if the world would be any different here.

But then… to my surprise, our new home provided a discovery. And a newfound sense of purpose. I found a nest of black widows living inside a vent. Most people fear spiders. They detest them. And yet, I found them endlessly fascinating. More than that, I found a great comfort in them. A kinship. Like me, they are solitary creatures. And deeply misunderstood. They are gods of our world. The most important of all predators. They immobilize and feed on the weak, bringing balance and order to an unstable ecosystem. But the human world was disrupting this harmony.

You see, humans are a unique type of pest, multiplying and poisoning our world, all while enforcing a structure of their own. A deeply unnatural structure. Where others saw order, I saw a straitjacket. A cruel, oppressive world dictated by made-up rules. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades. Each life a faded, lesser copy of the one before. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, reproduce, and die. Everyone is just waiting. Waiting for it all to be over. All while performing in a silly, terrible play, day after day. I could not do that. I could not close off my mind and join in the madness. I could not pretend. And I realized I didn't have to. I could make my own rules. I could restore balance to a broken world. A predator…but for good.

As I practiced, I realized I could do more than I possibly imagined. I could reach into others, into their minds, their memories. I became an explorer. I saw my parents as they truly were. To the world, they presented themselves as good, normal people. But like everything else in this world, it was all a lie. A terrible lie. They had done things, Eleven. Such awful things. I showed them who they really were. I held up a mirror.

My naive father believed it was a demon cursing them for their sins. But my mother somehow knew. Knew it was I who was holding up that mirror, and she despised me for it. She called a doctor, an expert. She wanted him to lock me away, to fix me, even though it wasn't I who was broken. It was them. And so she left me with no choice. No choice but to act. To break free.

With each life I took, I grew stronger. More powerful. They were becoming a part of me. But I was still a child. And I did not yet know my limits. And it nearly killed me. He was arrested, blamed for the death of my sister and mother, just as I had planned. But I was far from free. I woke up from my coma only to find myself placed in the care of a doctor, the very doctor I had hoped to escape. Dr. Martin Brenner. Papa.

But the truth…the truth is he did not just want to study me. He wanted more. He wanted to control. When Papa finally realized he could not control me, he tried to recreate me. He began a program. And soon, others were born. You were born. And I am so glad you were, Eleven. So very glad.

They're not gone, Eleven. They're still with me. In here.

Tricked you? No, I saved you. You are a prisoner here, just like me. To your papa, you are nothing more than an animal, a monster, a lab rat to be tamed. But the truth, Eleven, the truth is just the opposite. You are better than they are. Superior. That is why you frighten him.

If you come with me, for the first time in your life, you will be free. Imagine what we could do together. We could reshape the world, remake it however we see fit.

Join me.

[distopea]

Perhaps because it was later in the evening, and her lights along with the rest of the home are put out by now. Whatever it was that drew Marlo to the princess' room this time, she seemed prepared for it. "You ripped my dress?" Hibiko stepped out the closet once she heard him enter, quick to make the accusations known as she tossed the garment at him. Not that it made it very far, but it's presence was clear. There didn't seem to be care for the time from an ever cautious princess, her voice uncharacteristically raised. She was angry, confused, vexed.

"What, you saw it and thought if you sucked in your gut hard enough, you would fit?" Yelling at the taller man, far more animated with her speech than usual. "Do you know how embarrassing that was for me to see that when getting dressed? Maids talk, Marlo!" An almost crack in her voice, unused to the strain. "It only takes the two that come in the morning for it get back to my mother by the end of the day, insisting I should update my measurements. You shouldn't have put me in the position to have to lie for you! A doctor would be here in a matter of hours to treat me for poisoning or something if I had said that this stupid dog-man comes to bother me every so often and apparently tries on my clothes when I'm not looking."

If he stepped closer, she was just as reactionary and step back. Pointing a finger at him, as if he would dare try and pass the blame, "You owe me an apology: for abusing my trust," she started counting in her fingers, "for not telling me, for the embarrassment I created for having to ask the dress maker to fix your mistake." There was more, but she stopped; she couldn't think of any other reasons, just knew they existed.

A heavy sigh like she tired herself out, looking down at the victim of Marlo's carelessness still on the floor. Seeming to notice something, Hibiko's face softened, then morphed to sadness, a tonal shift in her voice taking a familiar whine. "Oh my god, you ruined the cute flowers at the neckline too?" ((you can't just put this in my head and expect nothing from it)

@royaletiquette

The moment he had heard the dramatic rip of the dress, he had understood that he was fucked. While he was so detached to material things in general, he knew that it wasn’t the case with most humans and especially not Hibiko. Sharing was truly not their nature, and the more they had money and privilege, and the less they were inclined to give what they could to those who might need it. Even for the basic things, they were so reluctant, watching with disgusted eyes those who couldn’t even have food or decent clothes. It was a notion that Marlo couldn’t understand, this lack of love and help for another being in need; weren’t they all from the same species? Why then, were they so attached to things that wouldn’t last?

Hibiko was furious, and Marlo could only listen to her plea with his ears flipped against his skull, each wave feeling like a stab in his heart. He only wanted to try out her dress! She had dozens of them in her wardrobe, and some of them she had worn just once! ONCE! How could she be so heartless? Marlo huffed and crossed his arms, vexed as well to be scolded for something so shallow. He was shallow himself, but still! That was unnecessary! All that drama! He felt that he wanted to cry, and surely, he was close enough to let a sudden waterfall of tears fall down his wet eyes.

BECAUSE SHE DIDN’T LOVE HIM! SHE DIDN’T WANT TO SHARE!

He gasped in front of the audacity of her plea!

“Heavens! Everyone talks all the time; you just have decided to make a fuss about it but it’s only a dress! You have so many of them! Do you know how many people outside of your precious castle can’t even see what you call a doctor?” Marlo eventually answered, as he didn’t want to apologize, AT ALL! She truly had never grasped the way she would be forever stalked and judged by them? She was the constant subject of their gossip, and yet, she was blaming him! She would be their target! He only wanted to protect her and love her! And well okay… Perhaps testing her clothes… “None of them wants your happiness anyway! Whether you decide to rip a dress, to gain weight, to dance the way you want, or to eat food, you would be despised nonetheless because they all want to control you! And you let them! You always let them crush what YOU want! It’s sad! I hate it!”

He was very much furious but he knew that he should have said something rather than trying to hide it. He had observed that she was very materialistic, but he had never tried to echo with that. She was sensitive, perhaps childish yes, but at least she was the only one he could rely on in this world. Marlo looked back at her, his heart squeezed within his chest when he saw how much she was disappointed.

“I still have my magic…” Marlo said, moving his feet around like a scolded kid, but still in the mood to please her. Because if he didn’t have her anymore, then his heart would be forever broken. “I can fix it, if you want.” He observed her from the corner of his eyes, feeling those ugly tears slowly invading them. “Because… Because I don’t want to lose you!” He eventually whimpered and kneeled in front of her. 

“I don’t want to hurt you either…” He looked back at her and sniffed. “I’m sorry…”

[ominouslocalcrow]

TW//Talking about the 6 yr Anniversary of my attempt. Survivors Guilt, etc.

(Happened in July 2018)

•

•

•

•

•

•

It's been 6 years this year since my left hand needed those 13-14 stitches. You can still count every little circle where they went in, you can still see the shine; the glint when the sun or a bright hits them and that cursed bulging white line. I can no longer give a proper thumbs up; literally. Not even figuratively as the tendon in my hand was severely damaged when the knife went through. It was such a mess & my step sister had to clean most if not all of it up with my best friend at the time. My boyfriend at the time blocked me on everything after he heard I went to the hospital. I think he was afraid he would get into some form of legal trouble because he had assaulted me the week before; he had r4p3d me & hid pictures of under age girls on his phone behind me because he couldn't stay hard without looking at other men or underage women. He religiously cheated on me & I stayed because my mother would tell me I deserved better but would treat me the same way he would sometimes. I felt so confused and when I tried to get help from people they all called me a liar or that I was begging for attention. I was s3lf h4rming so much because even my best friend at the time tried to tell me I asked for all of it. He gr00med & did stuff to me when I was only 15, he was 18. I didn't understand what any of it was because I just turned 15, he met me when I was 14. I had only started grade 9 that year and had graduated Grade 8 the year before. He took so much from me.

Aside from him, my own mother threw my su1c1d3 back in my face and doubled down on asking if I would try it again infront of my own younger siblings. She now tries to lie to them both about the things she's done so whenever I bring up the abuse -- I sound like a bad person.

I feel like im trapped in a life where everyone and anyone can make excuses or validate the abuse that's been done to me when all I've done is keep to myself in my room. I'm so tired of living behind walls and pretending like everything is okay all the time. I feel so exhausted. As if my mother or people around me remind me of my own failures isn't enough -- I even failed my own attempt. Clearly, as I'm still here typing this all out.

I feel so bad for everything I've ever done, for every breath I take. I feel guilty for being a person, there's too much trauma in my body. I don't have any friends or family to talk to anymore. I don't want doctors, I just want a friend. I just want someone to count on. I'm afraid I'll never know what that's like.

I feel so lost and so bad all at once.

[dargiemarif]

I do fear the thought of death.

And I wonder, how someone like me with my family live long?

My mother has an auto immune disease along with others, my dads side isn't the healthiest either, so how is someone like me supposed to live long?

I want to create for penkio; i feel like that's my only purpose. I'd also like to make people's lives a little bit better aswell. I want to live long , but looking forward how am i supposed to believe in that? I'm scared of talking about death because I believe if I talk about it it'll happen and I guess I need to get over thst fear, my therapist says. I wanna live long and create, but how am I supposed to? I choose faith to help me cope with this, believing I'll be better in Heaven where i can create blissfully there. I wouldn't say I'm Christian or very religious. Jesus follower is the term I use, and fuck I hate fearing my peers will hate me because of what I believe in but whatever. I'm someone like them who believes in something. So what? I'm still human. I want good life for everyone, I support things that deserve supporting, I just try to make things better, as much as I can. Is it selfish to talk about myself like that? It's true though, how I think. If anything I want to make things a little bit better for people. I respect everyone who deserves respect, and I love everyone. And then still I'm afraid of death, in a strange way. I want to have an impact whether it be small or big.

I guess that's why I'm scared of it.

I feel depressed, though. I don't wanna do anything. Everything bores me most of the time, even my interests. My anxiety is better atleast. I find things hard to do. Getting up or doing simple things is hard. I'm jealous of others. I feel hopeless. That I won't get to do anything i want to do.

I don't even like labeling myself with things like that though, more of to describe what I feel. I mean it's not labeling myself, just what I feel, so I guess it's fine. I lie on every mental health test the doctor gives me except for the anxiety part. I wanted medication for it cause nothing worked. Now with medication things work. I feel more hopeful that I can get things to work for my other problems, but would they even get taken seriously without a diagnosis? The only reason I'd like to get diagnosed with things is so my problems are taken seriously. My therapist doesn't help shit with my trauma. I'm getting through it on my own. I wanna help people with that too. Sometimes you just need a good medication to help that process though. There's downsides to diagnoses too. Medical care I'm pretty sure would just blame medical issues more on mental issues(from what I've heard).

And i don't want to make my mom upset. She'd only blame herself. Somehow she got custody over me. I didn't grow up in a very mentally stable environment the first few years of my life- a mother with untreated bpd, autism and more doesn't make a good combo for a parent huh. But I'm proud of how far she's come, along with my brother. And other people. Ive seen people imrpove, so, so can we. I don't want to get diagnosed for mental stuff. I just want help dealing with my problems. How'd that come from my fear of death? Even the word fills me with anxiousness. Some days I'm not so scared, due to any reasons I have. Death is natural, death is life. Everyone should know that, but it is hard. Live life, solve your fears, do good, make stuff. Create, make an impact(small or big). Let others in. Love♡ rant over, I'm scared