#im doing an a level in English and when I get my new glasses ill look like a professor

[secretbangtnn]

summary : Getting a letter from a very prestigious school was something that you could have never expect, and even more unexpected was that you didn’t need to pay a penny for it. Beautiful news that were too good to be true, but oh how stupid you were to not question such a perfect chance to get away from your shitty life.

notes:

Guys i would be more than happy for some feedback, its my first time writing in english and im more than nervous. Im not sure if what i wrote is good or even understandable. + i would be more than happy to start an ask game with this book

Chapter one

Living or in your case existing was always somehow calm. Everything you do had a plan and everyday had the same pattern, like a boring vase that stood in the same kitchen you actually were. Blue marble tiles awfully similar to tears that run down the woman's cheeks, making them a little bit more redder than before.

Not that they weren't that color before, always blushy and ready to be seen. And maybe that's why you had that sour taste in your mouth while watching them, knowing that your own were as beautifully red as hers.

"why?" a simple question sounding now like the last call for help. Voice groggy and nose runny making the sight before even more unbearable to look at. But why weren't you moved, why the tears didn't make you guality like they should. "you planned this?! You planned to leave me alone like a selfish bastard!"

Looking down didn't seem like the best option, knowing that it could just take the nerves in the room to a whole new level but you could not stop yourself. She was always one to guilt trip you into everything.

A little shout left the chapped mouth making you jump a little while lifting your head simultaneously. Sight before you seems to worsen and as you took a step back the woman took another two in the end catching your small wrist in her clawed hand.

Hissing and looking dead in her eyes made you somehow more conscious of the whole situation.

“I didn’t know.” and you really did not. Gritting your teeth so hard that it felt like some of them could fall out at any moment seems to stop you from doing sudden movements.

Breathe in and breathe out.

“Of course you think I am stupid! Just like your father, bringing me to insanity step by step. But that’s what you wanted from the beginning, am I right?”

“Stop being delusional mom” Oh how hard it was to say the name of that woman. Mother of child that she forgets most of the time, only to remember at the most shitty time. Today was exactly one of the examples of why your dream was just to wake up not seeing or better not having to think of that woman.

“Am i now? It’s you who wants me like this.” She laughed, throwing her head back in the motion. Elegant column of her neck now easy to see, showing purple and red marks similar to those from claws. “You thought I would not know, you thought you could just run away like a scared little child. Now tell me, how long were you planning this o-or maybe it was your father’s plan from the beginning.”

“I didn’t know about it, I didn’t even apply to any of the schools and you are the one that should know that.” toxicity leaked from your voice in big streams, but it was something that u could not stop at that moment. She was doing it again, acting crazy and psycho making everyone question why she wasnt getting hospital help yet.

“So you are saying that it’s my fault? You were supposed to care for me, for your ill mother, not that you are useful for anything else. How could you even think of disappearing, going to school so far away and leaving me to rot here myself like you were not meant to end like this too!”

Snatching your hand you looked at the woman once again, tears in eyes making you look fragile. Her own body looking weak, nearly dead limbs hanging from a malnourished body, showing the world wrack of a woman she was. Complexion ill looking, but what was not in her case, pale looking with green, purple and blue spots everywhere the skin was shown.

“Why are you being so shocked? Don’t tell me you thought you were going to leave someday.” Her laugh made you grit your teeth, jaw starting to hurt from the tension you were keeping. “Once again you showed how foolish you are, just like your father, just like that scumbag.”

“You are insane.”

“That we already know, so why don’t you come back to your room and start preparing for tomorrow. I want to eat a really nice breakfast next morning and maybe then after we can talk about what job you are going to have to make a living for us.”

And that was your sign to go, not looking back at the sick smirk on your mother mouth momocking your whole being. Step by step you saw the old stairs, in some place missing the color. Your room was nothing special, at least that what people said, for you it was some type of heaven. Peace that you could only catch while being there, laying on your old bed while looking at the dull ceiling.

Closing the door, you exchaled a heavy breath, sliding down on the flat surface of the door. Eyes closed like you have always done after an intense situation, today was not an exception to that.

Asking yourself what just happened, how and why. Unconsciously you looked at the letter beside you, laying so weirdly on the piece of not carpeted floor. The big fault in a little piece of paper. It was funny how this thing made such a bad influence on your life just by arriving on your doorstep.

The fact that the only person you could compare yourself to now is a story character of the name Harry was nearly not as funny as it sounded. However how u can explain getting a letter from a prestigious school you for sure did not apply or even looked up not even thinking about getting a scholarship to having a chance to think about it.

By any chance you were not stupid, but your ambitions flew away with another day in this shit hole you called home. Main reason being your own mother, which not only made it clear but for sure would kill you faster than let you leave.

You took the letter, keeping it in your hand like some unknown object you have never seen before. The texture itself is weird, making you shiver in some way. Big letter stood on the black piece of paper meaning only one thing.

Oh yes, that definitely was unsetting.

You remember clearly the first time you read the words that were put in this blank envelope. Big chance waiting for you, welcoming you with big arms and assuring you that you have nothing to be scared of.

And maybe those words were the one that brought you to that situation. It was not even three hours after the fight with your mother. Sun long down now moon shining on your pale face. Packing everything you tried to be quiet and quick hoping that your mother again ate too much of those big pills.

Big bag now laying down on your bed with a small letter beside it looking as innocent as before. You were not even seventeen making decisions that would cost you more then you can imagine. Living hell with possibility of going to another but in that moment nothing mattered like running away from old monsters.

Floor cracked under your feet even thought you were considered as a lightweight. How could you not be so malnourished when your mother forced you to teach yourself how to cook, never letting you eat before her. You tried to reason her moods or harsh behaviour to you but no matter how many times you tried it always ended in another reason why your life was just simply sad.

Running away was a good decision. You tried to say it so many times to actually believe in those empty words. The truth was that you were an innocent little child, not even a full adult that has never tasted a social life or had a friend.

“It will be alright.” Taste on your tongue after saying this a little sour with a heavy backpack danglin on your right arm. One step and then another, you touched the cold handle of your white doors. It was the first move to make and probably one of the hardest.

Bag on your arm is even more heavy making you realise what is happening. Silent breath flowed past your lips preparing you for your next step.

You pushed it closing it carefully while hoping that the oldish touch to the wood wont make an appearance in a loud noise. Silly smile now seen on your face with big relief in the back of your mind. The hardest part was just before you.

Your mothers room, not fully closed - like always, she needed to make sure nobody would come uninvited. It was just one of her weird characteristics that came with such a messed up mental health.

Small noise came out under your feet, not loud enough to wake up the woman next door but audible enough to be heard from closer.

Photos all around you telling you that you were getting near the main door. Little pictures with you inside faded from ears of hanging, making you stop for a while.

Smooth glass now under your fingers as you touch a specific photo. You and your mother being in the green garden of your grandmas. Happy vibe and pretty smiles now nearly unbelievable to witness on either of faces. It hurted or maybe it was just the adrenaline escaping from a sudden stop.

Oh how the sweet monet was quickly destroyed by the harsh noise from one of the rooms, and you exactly know which one. Loud thud rang out in the quietness of the house, making the silence even more noticable. Your breath escaped leaving you in a big ball of nerves and anxiety.

One...two...three

Silence like the one before big storms but maybe just this time it was not that. You couldn't withdraw now, you were too far and too close to the feeling of freeness. So you did the only thing that came to your mind.

Catching a sliding backpack, you turned to the door in front of you, knowing that just behind them is waiting something so much bigger than your old mother. How stupid for you to not rethink your decision, and believing your innocent mind that its just a good thing, better life that could only make you happier.

So you did it, you took the heavy steps that echoed in the narrow corridor. Light breeze touched your face, and just like the first time you gasped at the feeling. Door closing not that gently as you started running as fast as you could.

Silly smile now on your face with a bouncing bag on your shoulders keeping you on the hard ground. It was feeling similar to the first sight of the ocean or the first taste of sweet ice cream on a hot summery morning. You were in ecstasy choked by the overwhelming emotions.

And maybe because of that you were completely unaware of the danger that waited for you on that chilly night. How could you think about it when everything seemed so distracting almost as you were dreaming and in that moment you probably were closer to believing in this being a slumber.

So as you sat on the cold bench of one of the parks near your home, realization finally came silencing your beating heart. Colder weather now felt more real, as it bit your rosy cheeks. You shivered, keeping your backpack on your lap, trying to hide behind it from a chilly wind that seemed like it came from every side.

Being alone hit you like a truck and the little noises of the night didn't help your rising nerver. You started to lose your breath, feeling your tears sliding down your numb cheeks. It was terrifying now with the knowledge of your wellbeing and adrenaline wearing off with every second.

“Mom?” A silent plea that came out of your lips with shakiness that was more than noticeable. You didn't know why you said that, but the woman was probably the only person you knew. Such a sad truth that you needed to understand. You were alone now, and with that thought a more shameless sobs left your mouth with an occasional whimper.

You were sure you were going to end up dead. That you won't see the new sunset with how your body shivered. Not knowing how life worked or what is bad or good you were a little lamb that waited for hungry wolves to eat her whole.

And maybe one of those predators just saw his next meal. Long strides brought him just in front of you. Your sobs are too loud to make you hear his boots coming closer and closer. His breath just centimeters away from your head, brushing your hair like the not forgotten wind.

“Sweetheart?” It was a calming voice, not too deep but definitely belonging to a grown man. Your posture momentaly stiffened, as your closed eyes now looked at the big leather shoes before you. Your whole body is not moving, only shivering because of the chilly weather and light clothes. It was funny how suddenly you have forgotten about being alone, now wanting just this, wishing for all of this to be a big nightmare.

A deep sight left man's lips reminding you about the realness of the whole situation. You could not move, completely scared, your fingers clutched the bad praying for something to happen. The plan to just act like you were not there, ignoring the man fastly ended, when he sighted once again and crouched just to your eye level.

Deep brown eyes, looking at you with nothing but softness. If you didn’t know better you would say the man looked as if he knew you, cared and was in big relief finding you. But your mother's words echoed in your head, making you believe that every man walking on this planet is bad.

“What are you doing here sweetheart?” Once more this deep voice pierced you. Your mouth opens to answer, deeply knowing that nothing will come out. You just looked in his dark eyes, wishing that maybe he will be the one who can read minds. His eyes now on you, more concerned than before, observing your shivering body.

He was tall and broad for sure, towering over your figure surprisingly even while crouching down. His huge shoulders covered by a creamy coat which now was getting dirty by laying down on a pavement, as it partly hid his expensive looking boots.

Too distracted you didn't notice his hand coming to touch your red cheek, now gently stroking the redness of your skin.

“What a poor soul, so cold and left alone without a coat. Tell me sweetheart would you come and let me warm you a little?”

[daddynegandesires]

Secrets chapter 2

Summary: negans jealousy and temptation starts to escalate when he starts coming around trying to fit his way back into your life while also showing jack who the man of the house is but jack may also have secrets of his own no one knows about.

🛑Warning: fluff, major smut, saddness, jealousy, cheating,fighting 🛑

@jazzy1118

18+

Sitting on your bed with mascara tears streaming down your face holding onto old pictures of you,negan and ellie. Jack walks in and you quickly wipe your tears and shove the pictures under the pillow before he notices.

"Hey baby...whats wrong?" Jack slides in next to you

"Oh nothing haha" you sniffle and play it off all cool

"You looked beautiful lastnight...i realized i forgot to tell you" he said brushing a strand of hair behind your ear leaning in to kiss you softly. Jack resches inbetween your skirt automatically causing your legs to spread apart inviting him in. He reaches his other hand up your shirt grabbing your boob gently squeezing it in his hand you begin to quickly unbutton your blouse breathing heavier when the front door opens. You frantically pull your shirt back together terribly and tugging at your skirt when you exit the room to see negan and ellie standing in the living room.

" have you ever heard of calling or sending a text!!??" You cross your arms over your chest with a few buttons still loose allowing your black lace bra to peak out

"Well....looks like youve been busy" negan takes off his glasses sliding them ontop of his head

"I just thought id come by and cookout for ellie.." He grins pulling out steaks and ribs from a grocery bag.

"Oh! I brought wine too...your favorite"

"Cook out!?...wha" you followed behind him outside to the patio slamming the door behind you.

"So you think you can just walk into my house acting like you own the place saying you want to "cook out" for ellie!!??" By now you are almost inces away from him

Negan flicks on the grill and then grabs you gently by your face.

"I believe its my house too.....my name is also on the deed" he relases his hand and then walks past you back inside

You scoff to yourself as you stand there trying to process what is going on when jack comes outside.

"Im heading out for work...also whats up with him?"

"I..uh...he is cooking out for ellie i suppose" you said running your finger's through your messy hair

"I see.....well ill see you later, message me!" He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before hopping into his car and driving off. You sigh to yourself opening the door walking back into the kitchen seeing negan rubbing up the meat with spice's and ellie downing a bowl of chocolate ice cream.

"Negan! Seriously you gave her ice cream before dinner" you quickly took the spoon and bowl away from ellie before she could cram another spoonful in her mouth

"Whaaat let the kid live alittle...." He looks at ellie giving her a goofy face

You go over to dump out the ice cream in the trash can before dropping the dish in the sink next to negan you caught yourself looking at him his jacket was off and his sleeves were rolled up exposing his toned arms and rough hands. His black glasses resting on his face and his perfect salt and pepper hair. You always have had a thing for men a bit older than you and negan fit that image perfectly...jack was much younger than negan which you never would of guessed going for a younger man would be good for you.

"Mommy!!"

"Huh..yes honey?" Causing you to snap out of your thought's

"Can daddy stay the night we can stay up and was scawry moviessszz!!?" Ellies face lit up with excitment

"Oh. Sweetie im sorry but daddy cant stay the night" bending down to her level caressing her cheek

"Uuuuggghhhhh!! No fair!!" Ellie screams at the top of her lungs and starts flailing her arms

"Ellie! Do not act like that towards your mother!" Negans deep strong voice boomed in the kitchen almost making you weak at your knees. Ellie ran off to her room and slammed the door.

"That sassy girl" negan said looking at you through the top of his glasses

"Thank you...." You sighed exhaustedly while popping the cork off of the wine bottle and filling your cup up

"Mmmm...." Swallowing the sweet red wine feeling it flow down your throat

"So....you and younger guys huh?" Negan chuckled while washing his hands

"Something new...nothing wrong with that" you said taking another sip of your wine

"thought you had a fetish for older men....whats it called? Daddy issues"

"I guess you could say that...." Pouring more wine into your glass

"Sure sure..." Negans voice died out as he walked off to the bathroom

Negan came back into the kitchen grabbing the tray of meat outside and slapping it on the grill. You followed behind him wine glass in hand.

"So...was it you that told ellie to ask me if you could stay the night?" Raising an eyebrow

"Shouldnt you go get another glass of wine" negan chuckles

"Ya know...your cooking was always the best" chugging down the rest of your glass

" i think the wine is starting to talk haha" negan closed the lid to the grill folding his arms over his chest

---------

I was cleaning up the mess in the kitchen while ellie and negan were snuggled up on the couch watching friday the 13th together. Hearing negan be playful and caring with ellie really makes your heart happy. A part of you wishes things could have been diffrent between the two of you that is your babygirls father of course you love the both of them but being with negan just isnt in your future right now.

"Mommy come in here!"

You finished putting dishes away when you walked in there and sat down by negan he kept looking over at you grinning while ellie jumped at the scary scenes with jason Voorhees.

"So...hows the team going?"

"Good...good the boys are a handful" negan chuckled

"You were always a great coach you really pushed those boys to do great things" giving him A sweet smile

Talking about school with negan was always a touchy topic. He runs a basketball team at the local highschool......thats also where he was cheating on me with one of the english teachers.

"She is out like a light... My sweet girl." Negan was running his fingers through ellies long red hair when he looked over at you realizing you had fell asleep on his shoulder too. Negan picked up ellie and took her to her bed and tucked her in when he came back you were slightly awake.

"Thank you..." You said tiredly

"For what baby..." He said in a low deep voice

"For dinner and taking ellie to bed...its hard doing it alone sometimes..." You began to feel really vulnerable and kinda felt unsettling with negan calling you baby

"Jack should be home soon he gets off late.." You raised up off the couch

"You want me to leave...." Negan asked with puppy dog eyes

"Negan....you have to go im sorry"

"Baby....you know i never meant to hurt you" negan pulled you back down to sit on the couch

"But you did.....what were you thinking....you ruined everything" you were a bit tipsy from the wine and your emotions were just flowing out of you

"I love you negan! And you threw it all away for some fucking teacher at your school!!" You began shoving him

"All you care about is yourself you are so fucking full of yourself...you think you are so fucking amazing!" Now gripping onto his shirt hitting him in the chest he quickly pulled you into a tight hug and you began crying uncontrollably onto his shoulder soaking his tshirt.

"Shhh....im here now i promise you i will do anything..i want to be back in ellies life full time again i miss my girls" negan started to get all choked up holding back tears

"I...i cant right now negan its too soon im still hurting so bad.....im trying to move on from this" wiping the tears away from your eyes

"I understand.....im never going to let you down again all i want is for you and ellie to have a good life even if im not in it"

He stood up pulling you with him he took you to the bedroom and layed you down in bed taking your shoes off for you and tucking you in before jack got back.

"Goodnight" he kisses you on the forehead and leaves

---------

You woke up to ellie jumping and screaming on your bed you looked over to see jack sleeping next to you rubbing at his eyes.

"Good morning beautiful" he leans over and kisses you

"Goodmorning" you chuckled

"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" Ellie jumped onto you

"Hi sweetheart mommy sees you" you squeezed her tight in a hug before getting up out of bed

Jack had already gotten up and hopped into the shower when his phone began to ring on his bedside table you eagerly went over and looked at who it was. A girl named Melissa was calling him you just brushed it off and joined him in the shower.

"Hey...." Slipping off your panties and hopping into the shower with him

"Whoa...hey" jack said shocked

You grabbed him by the face and began kissing him hard feeling the hot water stream down your back. He moved his hand down between your legs taking one finger and slowly slipping it inside of you moaning out gripping onto his dick starting to slowly pump it back and forth feeling it grow long in your hand. Before you knew it he flipped you around ramming his cock into you pumping back and forth into your dripping wet pussy. His grip grew tighter on your hip as he started going faster and faster untill you felt an emptyness from him pulling out.

"Im hopping out im gonna let you finish up in here" he slapped your ass and then hopped out and closed the bathroom door behind him

"What a disappointment....." You whispered to yourself as you scrubbed shampoo through your hair knowing that negan would of never left you hanging like that and would of lasted way longer. Turning off the water you coulf faintly here jack laughing and talking to someone over the phone you quickly dried off and opened the bathroom door.

"Who are you speaking to?" You asked slipping on some clothes

"Ohh just a coworker nobody really" he said putting his phone into his pocket and sliding his tie on leaving the room

"Okay then....." You said to yourself

Slipping your shoes on you walked into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee before jack headed off to work. Jack seemed super eager to leave for work today you just brushed it off assuming it was going to be a busy day for him at the office. He kissed you goodbye and took ellie with him to drop her off at daycare. It was just you alone in the house today which meant housework....gross.

You tied your hair up in a bun and began gathering your cleaning supplies you connected your phone to the bluetooth speaker blasting old rock songs. You were down on your hands and knees scrubbing at the floor in your short shorts when you were greeted by two feet infront of your face. You slowly looked up at who it was and it was negan with a huge dirty smirk on his face.

"This all for me doll?" He bit at his lip

"Oh....uh i planned on cleaning house today while everyone was out" you said shyly not realizing you were still on your knees

"I like you down there...on your knees" he slwoly chuckles

"Oh! Sorry....you cant just keep letting yourself in negan..." You quicly shot up to your feet

"You need me to help with anything?" He walks into the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee

"Ugh....The grass needs mowed......" You answered while wiping down the living room table

" jack doesnt mow grass?" Negan began laughing

"Negan...dont" standing there with your hands on your hips you sprayed him with the water bottle

"Hey!.....im just saying i figured young business boys couldnt mow grass anyway" negan walked outside and started up the pushmower.

An half and hour has passed and you finally finished the housework inside. You peaked out the window to see negan finishing up yard work...his shirt was off and he was all sweaty then jack suddenly pulls up causing you to stop gawking at negan.

"You always mow peoples grass" jack called out to negan getting out of the car

"Well, today i do. And maybe even next time...your girlfriend asked me to" negans jaw begins to flex

"Oh really...well" jack rubs at the back of his neck annoyed

"Dont think for a second that you have this all figured out......just setting some ground rules" Negan leans in towards jack and sternly says

Jack glared at negan as he walked past him to go insdie the house.

"Hi sweetie!" You greeted jack with a peck on his cheeck before stepping outside to speak with negan.

"I think you need to go...." You softly said to him trying not to stare at his sweaty toned bare chest

"Cmom doll.....things were getting fun. Jack is really starting to take a liking to me" he chuckles sliding his tongue across his bottom lip

"Negan....this isnt a game" you said picking up the gardening tools and taking them to the garage

"But i like games....and i always win" negan said in his cocky voice following behind you

You slammed down the shovel on the work bench in the garage before you knew it negan flipped you around lifted you up and and sat you ontop of the bench crashing his lips into yours he slid in between your legs grabbing a fist full of your hair yanking your head back as he began biting at your neck.

"Negan...." You moaned softly

"God i miss you moaing my name..."

"N....negan stop" it was so hard to resist him

"I want to have another kid with you....i want to fill myself insdie of you.....please baby" he tugged at your hair harder causing you to moan louder

The hairs on the back of your neck shot up after hearing what he had just said to you. You wrapped your legs tight around his waist and pulled him into you kissing him roughly biting and tugging at his bottom lip. You couldnt control yourself your body was weak negan always knew the right things to say. Negan took his two fingers pulling your yoga shorts aside to his surprise you weren't wearing any panties his finger began to play with your now swollen sensitive clit causing you to whimper out. He sucked on his finger making it wet before bringing it back to your clit gently flicking it faster and faster.

"Negan...im gon-

"(Y/n)...are you in here" jack called out from around the corner of the garage

"Oh shit!" You whispered to yourself before hopping off the work bench approaching jack

"Hey...im going to be going out of town on a business trip soon"

"Oh....well how soon?" You asked curiously

"Like...tonight soon" he quickly stated

"Oh...i see" your voice lowered

"I have to go baby i will keep in touch with you!" He kissed you before slow jogging to his car and leaving

A part of you didnt feel good about jack leaving for a "business trip" if thats really what it was.....something seemed off with him like he was hiding something. You stood from the garage watching him drive down the road untill you couldnt see his car anymore.

"Business trip huh....." Negan questioned walking up beside you

"Yeah...i suppose so" you said zoning out

Negan begins to chuckle and walk past you to his car.

"Wait were are you going!?" You yelled out to him

"Have to go pick up our daughter from daycare" negan calls out from the driver side

"Wait up im coming with you!" Jogging up to his black 1969 camero and hopping in the passenger seat

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

You,ellie and negan were back at the house when you were in the bedroom freshening up when you noticed jack had left his laptop on the dresser. Curiously you walked over and popped it open the screen automatically came on to his emails the very top email read from Melissa.

Hey jack we have that meeting tonight dont forget!😊 im also wearing that little tight dress you love.

You read the message over and over again the words ringing in your head making you feel sick to your stomach you slammed the laptop shut your body shaking full of rage and a adrenaline not knowing what to think or how to feel anymore. You just lay back on your bed zoning out up at the ceiling.

The door to the bedroom opens and its negan with a dirty smirk on his face looking at you layed out on the bed you just want to forget everything you want to feel numb you want to be made to feel dirty...

"Hey..." His deep tone giving you goosebumps

"Fuck me.....i want you to fuck me like the slut i am" you sternly said to him

Negan swiftly ripped his shirt off and yanked down your shorts spreading your legs apart bringing his tongue to your pussy licking your sweet folds brining his tongue down to your opening and all the way back up to your clit teasing you. You begin to grind up against his face while he pumps his cock hearing him moan only made you even more wet. He pulls his mouth away and flips you over slapping you on the ass hard the sting of it felt amazing he spanks you agains and a again before he enters his tip inside of you. Gripping onto the the bedsheets you have almost forgotten how big his cock is streching you open to fit perfectly insdie of you.

"Oh fuck.....god its so tight! You dirty fucking whore" he grunts slowly sliding more of his cock into you pulling your head back by your hair

"I miss you....i want you to fuck me hard..." You begin to rub your clit

Negan starts pumping his cock in and out of you his cock slowly swelling up inside of you and you squeeze down on him feeling all it all. He begins to move faster and faster leaning his face down to yours grabbing onto your throat squeezing it to let you feel that perfect high.

"Fuck...i...i cant keep going much longer" he starts fucking you faster and faster

"I want you to cum in me....please..i want your cum inside of me"! You beg

He lets out a load moan as he finishes inside of you and kisses you hard on the lips before pulling out letting his cum pour out of you all over the bedsheets. Negan pulls up his jeans as he hands you a towel to clean yourself up. You havent felt that amazing in awhile so relaxed and burnt off some built up rage

"All you have to do is ask and im here...." He whispers to you before leaving the room to go check on ellie. You get up from the bed to go take a shower.

"What am i doing......." You say to yourself

"Im so fucking stupid...." You begin to cry and sit with your knees pulled up to your chest in the tub feeling like a peice of shit after what you had just done. You are playing with negans emotions and stabbing jack in the back...what kind of girlfriend and mother am i.

[akvtsuki-ari]

Sweetheart (Ch.1)

Warnings: Mentions of BDSM and bunch of other kinks but nothing sexual in this chapter lol. Sub!Spencer and Femdom!Reader 

Length: 5.3k 

Authors Note: this is hands down the most self-indulgent shit ive ever wrote but do i care? the answer is no dsjk  but this that series i had planned where the reader introduces spencer to proper BDSM and all that. hoping to make this fic kinda informative also lol. also im uploading this fic on ao3 as well. also no tags for this fic bc its really specific and ill probably be writing for it for a while! sorry about that

Plot Summary: Spencer Reid just wanted to be.., well, you know. He doesn’t expect to find much when he signs up for a BDSM dating website but somehow he manages you and he couldn’t be more delighted

Spencer Reid was certainly a lot of things. He was a lover of the arts, someone who had a particular affinity for 15th-century literature, a magician at best, a theater nerd at worst, and a teacher when life called for it. He loves the world even when it's really dark and he loves sleeping in even more. He loves his friends and they love him too - even when they pretend that his random facts annoy them. Spencer Reid was a friend, an FBI agent, a genius with an IQ of 187, and a son to a mother he loves wholly. He was a lot of things and for the most part - he knew a lot about what he really loved to do. He supposed that it's been like that his whole life.

It's not everyday that he discovers something new about himself. About everything else? Always. He loves to learn, but about himself? There's never all that much on the frontier.

It's hard to say, because of that, when Spencer discovered he was a sub. It's difficult to pinpoint a specific time and place, or even how the pieces got put together. He just remembers how it felt when it hit him, like a freight train going 100 miles an hour into a concrete wall. Or a plane crashing onto an island. Or like a fly hitting the glass panes of a delivery truck. He remembers the feeling when he was deftly reminded of this fact. Spencer Reid was a sub - through and through and he wasn't really sure what to make of it.

Surprisingly to most of his direct peers, Spencer wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex with 2 people who he'd been kinda friends with at some point, but it always got a little weird after that. The second time though, the girl ended up choking him a little bit when she got off and Spencer thought he had died. Not in a bad way, more in a "I'm so turned on by this I feel like I've genuinely gone to heaven," sort of way. He didn't think it was possible for a sexual encounter to make him feel like that but it did. It didn't stop after that either, which was the most agitating part. 

Spencer doesn't consider himself a sexual person. Sex is about intimacy and companionship, and hopefully love when he finds that someday. Sex isn't necessarily about pleasure but that wasn't an easy lesson to learn.

Spencer just wanted to understand - so like any great genius he participated in thought experiments. It's normally a female superhero/supervillain that crosses his mind (he has an affinity for Poison Ivy), and he just kinda imagines what it would be like if they did what she did. The choking turned him on, but it wasn't enough. Through that, he figures out that he had more than a choking kink and that he was more than a little interested in a partner having complete access to him. He thought about it for weeks and the getting off was working for him but he couldn't get the fantasy out of his head. He wanted more - he wanted someone to fulfill his wishes.

It was too much for him to ignore. Those months of being able to hold off through masturbating are over and he's just sorta itching. Aching to act on those impulses with another person who can give him what he needs, and he doesn't want it to be transactional. Maybe it's too ideal to want a partner out of such an endeavor but was it so wrong? To want real affection and romance from someone who could also overpower him wasn't a crime and he'd be damned if he pretended to want any less. Spencer was just searching, even if it was rather desperately. 

So, when Spencer finds himself on a BDSM dating site and he feels like his life is in shambles, he can only blame himself. It's not something he'd normally do but he's getting a little more than relentless about it but he also just wants to see what's out there. He's so out of it was it happens, it felt like he was being possessed as he made a fake email and wrote out his account information. Definitely blaming it on possession, he thinks. 

It's too late to go back, as he scrolls through tons of profiles of rather intense looking people. He's not surprised, this is where people go to express themselves. They're entitled to that, it just sucks since he's just not ready for such levels of intensity. He wonders if he's in too deep yet, but he figures he'd hit that mark a long time ago and keeps scrolling through profiles. There wasn't much to go off of, many people not choosing to use photos for the sake of anonymity, which was good for Spencer. He clicks onto his own profile, reading his own bio carefully.

USERNAME: DOC187 

SUB/ SWITCH / DOM 

M / F / O

FETISHES: N/A

BIO: Interest in a dominant female companion. Completely inexperienced.

Spencer feels ridiculous, but he doubts anyone would even message him. He doesn't have much on his profile and he keeps things short for that purpose. He wanted to stay as low to the ground as possible - more curious to explore what was going in the world than to find anything legitimate. He scrolls through hundreds of profiles, mostly of people who were BDSM vets looking for new connections or fun. Some people catch his eye but they don't match his interests so he doesn't bother.

Except, one profile. The bio was beyond interesting to Spencer.

USERNAME: MISS—LILAC

SUB / SWITCH / DOM 

M / F / O 

FETISHES: Sadomasochist, Degradation, Humiliation, Pegging, Overstimulation, Edging, Crossdressing, Exhibitionism, Mutual Masturbation, Dacryphilia, Shibari/Gags/Bondage, Wax Play, Impact Play, Breath Play, General Sensation Play, Discipline, Collaring, Begging. Willing to try most things. 

BIO: Interested in submissive males of any experience level. Helps if you're interesting and like to read and watch indie films. Looking for genuine connection and plenty of good banter. Curly hair is nice too. lol.

Before Spencer can think about it for too long his mouse clicks over that stupid little message button next to your profile. Spencer shakes his head at his own existence as he types you a message. Says you're online right now, but Spencer's sure he won't get a response for a while.

DOC187: Seems I fit who you're interested in. I even have the curly hair.

Spencer chews on his nails anxiously before he sighs at himself. He has no clue what's gotten into him belle before he can think he sees your 3-dotted bubble pop up. He feels his body wracked with nerves.

MISS—LILAC: I'm guessing you like to read and watch indie films too?

Spencer smiles. You seem interesting and the fact that the two of you were just talking normal was making Spencer happy.

DOC187: Indeed. I'm a sucker for 15-century literature and anything in Russian and foreign language. You?

MISS—LILAC: 15th century huh? I'll assume Chaucer. And Russian? You're interesting, doc. I'm more modern and English, hope you're not deterred.

Spencer smiles, surprised that you recognize an author as niche as Chaucer. He shakes his head at your commentary. He almost forgets that both of you are on a BDSM dating site and the irony doesn't escape him.

DOC187: Deterred? Never. I think you're rather interesting too, Miss Lilac.

MISS—LILAC: Ever the gentleman doc. I'm hoping you won't run away if I ask you more personal questions.

Spencer swallows. He types back quickly.

DOC187: What kinds of questions?

MISS—LILAC: If it's okay, you're real name and what you do. My names Y/N, and I'm a florist. I live in DC and I love romance novels.

Spencer smiles. He appreciates you laying down the path for him, knowing the stakes.

DOC187: My names Spencer and I work for the FBI. I also live in DC, and I love magic.

MISS—LILAC: Magic? I'd love for you to show me sometime.

Spencer swallows. Part of him feels like it's a stupid idea to ask you out so early but if you asked, he'd likely say yes. He decides to wait it out.

DOC187: I'd be more than happy to show you.

MISS—LILAC: I suppose you could send me a video but that's not the same as seeing the magic in real life, now is it?

Spencer is smiling like an idiot at this point. He shakes his head a little, jittery.

DOC187: Infinitely better live, I would say.

MISS—LILAC: Seems like I've found an excuse to ask you on a date then. Saturday's work for me but I'm sure it depends on you, FBI man. Before that, I'm gonna drop my number and I'll be expecting your call. (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

Spencer giggles. It's a little out of range for things he's used to doing, giggling aloud for someone else is certainly new. Spencer picks up his phone and dials away, anxious to call you but excited nonetheless. He heard you pick up the phone and his heart catches in his throat.

"Hello?," Your voice is smooth, and a little bit lower than he was expecting. It sounds pretty.

"Hello, Y/N," Spencer says back. He heard you laugh on the other side and can't help the way his heart flutters.

"Lovely to talk to you doc,"

"Still Doc? Not Spencer?" Spencer questions. You smile on the other side of the line.

"Doc seems to fit you. But, for the sake of formality, hello Spencer,"

"I like Doc too, but it feels like I should have a nickname for you as well. Only seems fair," Spencer says laughing quietly.

"If it's your prerogative you can call me Miss Lilac, or just Miss but..." you trail off for a minute. Spencer squints.

"Miss is a title, you know? Doesn't seem fair for you to call me that when I haven't earned it from you yet. I'm sure we'll get there but for now you can just call me Y/N," you say softly. Spencer blushes bright red, his voice betraying him as he speaks.

"O-Oh, well um - where does the name Lilac come from? Normally people go with their names when it comes to stuff like that," Spencer says shyly. He heard you laugh on the other side of the phone and blushes again, grateful you can't see him.

"I love the language of flowers and flowers themselves. It's a way to speak that not many people know - but I like the meaning and look of lilacs. White lilacs represent purity, so that was a bit of irony, but light purple lilacs mean first love," you say carefully.

"First love?," Spencer asks. You bite your lip for a moment.

"I joke that BDSM is my first love since it's such a big part of my life. Not as big as some but not small for certain. It gave me much needed confidence so I joke that it was my first," You say lightly. You hear Spencer giggle on the other side and you smile.

"What about your username? Any significance to DOC187 that I should know of?," you readjust your seat on your couch as you talk. Spencer grows a bit embarrassed.

"I normally introduce myself as Doctor Spencer Reid for work, not a medical doctor but I have three PhD's," Spencer admits. You raise your brows but hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Very, very impressive doc. What about the 187? It could be a plain ol' number but my guess would be otherwise,"

"That's my IQ, actually. I don't think intelligence can be boiled down and quantified like that but I couldn't think of anything else," Spencer explains.

"So you're a certified genius with 3 PhD's? To say I'm impressed is an understatement. Anything else impressive you'd like to tell me before I totally pick your brains," you say a little shocked.

"You wanna pick my brains?," Spencer asks. You wanna laugh at the irony of such a silly question from such an intelligent man but you refrain.

"Who wouldn't?," you say incredulously. Spencer smiles shyly.

"The only other thing is that I can read 20,000 words per minute," Spencer says trying to deflect. Your jaw dropped before but it manages to unhinge a little further.

"There's a lot to get to know about you Doctor Reid,"

"I'm sure it's the same for you," Spencer replies.

"Guess we'll have to find out won't we?," you say smiling.

Damn, Spencer got lucky. Hopefully he'd get to find out soon

_____

"Reid, are you listening?," Derek's voice snaps Spencer out of his entranced state. His smiling expression snaps up to look at Derek who looks a little exasperated.

"Sorry, what was that?," Spencer asks back. Derek puts down the case file they were working on. They had just finished a case and needed to complete some paperwork before submitting it for review and to be used in court. The job was given to him and Morgan and Spencer was evidently distracted.

"Alright, kid - what is up with you? All case you've been checking your phone non-stop and spacing out, all smiles and giggles. C'mon now kid, seriously. You got a little lady at home waiting for you or is there something else I don't know about?," Derek interrogates. Spencer doesn't really know what to make of it, though it's not really in his interest to hide you, it hasn't really come up with anyone on the team yet so it was proving difficult to decide what to do. The smile on his face manages to appear again as he starts to think about you, the tips of his ears red.

"Reid," Morgan says again, with a small look of irritation.

"Her names Y/N," Spencer blurts out faster than he can't think. Derek gives him a huge grin, holding his hand out to dap Spencer up. Spencer just looks at it confused for a second before getting the memo.

"'My man," Derek says chuckling. Before Spencer can continue Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia walk in. Hotch is the only one missing, and Spencer's a little grateful.

"What are we celebrating in here you guys?," Prentiss asks first. Spencer goes to say something to move away from his sudden confession but Derek is quick to cut him off.

"Our boy genius over here got him a little lady," Derek announces. The whole team erupts in questions and Spencer wants to bury himself.

"Congratulations, Spencer!! How long have you two been dating?," Prentiss asks.

"You guys are so dramatic. It's only been two months but no first date because well..." Spencer trails off. JJ just nods her head.

"Duty calls, I'm guessing" JJ finishes. Spencer nods deflated hearing Emily draw a breath between her teeth.

"That's tough, Spence,"

Just as Spencer goes to give a response back he gets a text from you that makes his day a little better. It's a selfie of you at work, a picture your employee must've taken of you in a room full of new flower deliveries. You're giving Spencer a toothy grin as you hold a bunch of gardenias in your hand.

Y/N 🌸: *image attachment* 

Gardenias// You're lovely + Secret Love <33

Spencer cannot control the way his whole face bunches up in a smile, as if there's no one else in the room with him. Everyone just looks at him surprised, Garcia giving him a side-eye.

"How can you guys trust this stranger? We don't even know who she is! I haven't even run any background checks on her," Garcia complains. Prentiss nudges her side.

"I don't know if it matters - look at how hard he's smiling over there," Prentiss says. Garcia reluctantly looks and can't help but sigh.

"Okay well he seems really happy but still! We don't even know her," she pouts.

"I'm sure we'll meet her soon," JJ snickers at Spencer's lovestruck expression. Derek leans over Spencer's shoulder and raises his brows.

"Is that her, kid?," Derek asks. Spencer nods, simply staring at the picture you sent. Derek whistles when he sees you - you're genuinely stunning and he's surprised to say the least.

"Hot mama, pretty boy - how'd you manage that?," Derek asks, dumbfounded. Emily rolls her eyes.

"C'mon Derek, I'm sure - oh wow," Emily leans over Spencer's shoulder to see you and is met with the same reaction. JJ and Garcia are quick to follow thereafter, both looking equally as surprised.

"She's..." JJ trails off. The rest of the team just nods as Spencer grins ear to ear.

Spencer 🐻: Beautiful, as always.

Spencer ignores the rest of the team as they look at each other in disbelief.

Y/N🌸: Me or the flowers, Doc?

Spencer🐻: Both, but mostly you.

"Wow, Spencer you're really -" Prentiss starts

"You're whipped, kid. I mean seriously whipped," Derek finishes, nodding in agreement. JJ can't help but smile, giving Spencer a small pat on the back.

"She seems lovely, Spencer. How'd you two meet?," JJ says. Garcia stands around looking rather suspicious. A blush creeps onto Spencer's neck as he's reminded of how you two met.

"Online," Spencer says shortly. No one decides to question it, and Spencer thanks every god he can think of.

"Have you two FaceTimed yet? How can we know she's not, I don't know - catfishing you? Or scamming you in some other cyber criminal way?," Garcia sounds distressed. Spencer gives a small smile.

"We fall asleep over FaceTime every night," Spencer admits. Penelope's expression falls, and Prentiss gives a smile.

"That is disgustingly cute," JJ says laughing.

"Okay, well - I'm still running a background check on her," Garcia says stubbornly "But, I'm happy for you,"

"Thanks Garcia," Spencer mumbles out as he texts you again.

Y/N🌸: I wanna see you, love

Spencer blushes red as he reads your message. The word love makes his whole face hot.

Spencer🐻: I can't take a selfie for my life

Y/N🌸: You're with your team aren't you? Get them to take a picture of you.

Spencer wants to fold away, not ever really being the picture type, but how could he ever deny you.

Spencer🐻: How could I ever say no to you?

"Hey guys, can one of you take a picture of me for Y/N?" Spencer asks embarrassingly red. The whole team sends him a look of surprise.

"I'll take it Spence, try not to look as uncomfortable as you do right now," JJ says. The whole team refrains from laughing as Spencer gives an awkward smile. He thanks JJ who hands him back his phone before texting you again.

Spencer🐻: *image attachment* You owe me one

Y/N🌸: you're stunning as always. hadn't seen you in so long I almost forgot what you looked like.

Spencer🐻: stunnings an interesting choice of words.

Y/N🌸: I said what I said, doc. 

Spencer can't help but do a little giggle, that causes the whole team to give him a look. Morgan just shakes his head, shrugging. Emily, JJ, and Garcia just look at each other before the room draws into a subtle but comfortable silence as Spencer just smiles, totally unaware of how whipped he happened to look. He didn’t seem to mind either way. 

___

"How was work?," Spencer asks over the phone, kicking his shoes off as he looks into his fridge for something to eat. He hears you sigh on the other side of the line.

"Busy today - wedding season is coming up so tons of calls for centerpiece designs and costs. It's going well though, business couldn't be better," you say, clearly tired yet content. Spencer gives a small smile and feels relieved that things are going okay for you.

"That's really good. I'm glad you're feeling alright," Spencer replies. You ease into the couch as you talk to Spencer, relaxing by the second. 

"What about you, FBI man? You have an okay day?," Your voice is full of a gentle concern that Spencer appreciates.

"Yeah, just paperwork and JJ said that we shouldn't have any upcoming cases this week to be worried about so I have the weekend off," Spencer says without thought.

"Have any special plans for the weekend?," you say cheekily. Spencer, still not having caught on, shakes his head for a second.

"No, why?,"

"Hm... well - would you like to go on a date with me then Doctor Reid?," You ask, giggling. Spencer's eyes widen in realization as he facepalms for a moment.

"Wow, I didn't even think... yes - yes I would love to go on a date with you Y/N," Spencer says laughing at his own misfortune. You shake your head instinctively, but the growing smile and even further growing adoration makes it hard to sit still.

"Hey, Spencer," you say, butterflies filling your stomach.

"Yeah?"

"I really like you,"

____

Saturday comes quicker than Spencer can really understand. You told him not to worry about what the days plans would be but he can't help it. Anxiously awaiting you in front of the cafe that the two of you were supposed to meet at, in a part of town Spencer hasn't really seen before. You said that you'd lead the way and the irony isn't lost on him.

"Spencer?," Your voice is small, as you call out to what you think is Spencer Reid. Of course, you'd seen him before but to see him in person like this was still so unfamiliar. His head shoots up, eyes searching for you. He's delighted to have found you, certainly that was true as he walks towards you. Your arms envelop him in a friendly hug and he can't help but find himself sinking into. You smelled sweet, like fruit and flowers (which makes sense, the more he thinks about it)

"Lovely to finally meet you, Y/N,"

"Same goes for you, doc. Would you like to be informed of our plans for the day, or do you prefer the element of surprise?,"  You ask smiling. Spencer laughs at your question.

"Details would be appreciated, but I get the feeling you're not gonna give me those."

"You're right! It's a trick question, since it's a surprise. But, promise it'll be good,"

"I'll take your word for it then," Spencer says with a small smile. You hold your hand out for Spencer which he accepts, locking his hands with yours. The affection makes him feel full of warmth, as you lead him away for the day you had planned for the both of you.

___

Spencer underestimated how well you knew him. He really, really did. It's hard to explain since Spencers been on a date before but this was so profoundly different. He's a little touched, but beyond that he's just.. surprised? Every date he'd been on before this, he'd have to play the gentleman but it never seemed like the other person was interested in just him. It was always casual small-talk over dinner, or a mid-day coffee date or something else that just felt mundane but this was beyond Spencer's imagination.

The first place you took him was a bookstore - which was in Spencers mind already a winner for best date he'd ever been on. You walked inside with him and told him he had to pick up a book for you and you had to pick up a book for him and to say his heart absolutely fluttered would be an understatement. He picked up up a copy of "The Screwtape Tales," by C.S. Lewis for you, and you gave him a copy of Shel Silverstein's "Where The Sidewalk Ends." For you, you got a glimpse to see what Spencer's sense of humor was and you gave Spencer a piece of your childhood. Both equal but opposite forms of intimacy. The only thing was Spencer had to wait to read his book because it's relatively shorter than yours and he reads 20,000 words per minute.

The next place you took Spencer was an indoor butterfly garden. Does he have to explain why that's a good date? He heard you talk about all the scientific names for the different flowers and why they attract butterflies and he wasn't sure he could crush any harder on you if he tried. A particular moment sticks out to him on which a butterfly landed on your shoulders and just stayed there like it didn't want to leave. Spencer's eyes were fixated on it the whole time - and he had never wanted to be a butterfly in his life before but he figures there's a first time for everything.

The last place, where the both of you were at now was just a small coffee shop, locally owned and supported by the community here. You told Spencer that when you started up your shop, you'd come in here to work on big orders before you'd expanded enough to have employees. Spencer admires your work ethic, much more than he could ever anticipate as he sits down at a small booth, totally covering the both of you as you return to the table with a little plate of banana bread and two iced coffees. Spencer pouts as he looks up at you, watching you flash him a grin.

"I could've helped you carry this over," Spencer complains gently. You roll your eyes.

"Maybe next time doc," you say softly. You hold back your commentary often on the date, and Spencer pretends not to notice for your sake but he'd be lying if he said he didn't wanna know. You always had something sly to say but you'd kept it from him so many times now he figures it's better if he didn't ask.

Spencer looks at you as you push a plate of banana bread towards him. He looks at you with curious eyes before reading your clearly excited face and laughs. He picks up a piece and examines it, before taking a bite. If it tasted as good as it smelled then he would be more than obliged.

The involuntary moan that escapes Spencer's throat makes you choke with laughter. Shit, you weren't kidding when you said this was the best banana bread in the city. Spencer just looks up at you like he's about to cry with joy as you double over in giggles.

"I know," You say softly, taking a bite yourself eyes filling with joy "I ordered some more for us to take home - you're welcome," you say with confidence. Spencer smiles because that is genuinely thoughtful, but it was more endearing to see you pretend it wasn't. He just shakes his head, a blush arising to his face as he looks at you. You're staring at him with intent. He quirks his brow at you in question.

"I had a good time today, Spencer" You say warmly. You only called him Spencer when you were saying something affectionate and a bit serious. He gives you a toothy smile.

"I haven't been on very many dates, but this was easily the best one I'd ever been on," Spencer says honestly. You grin ear to ear, hands carefully holding Spencer across the table, running your thumb over his knuckles for a few seconds. You couldn't say for sure whether it was too soon to ask him to be your boyfriend, but you'd be damned if you said it didn't cross your mind.

Spencer was mind-numbingly unaware of what good boyfriend material he was, but beyond that - what good submissive boyfriend material he was. It was driving you nuts, but you knew this was all new for him and you didn't wanna freak him out. Even when guys say they're interested in being submissive, they're still often times uncomfortable with you being fully dominant. Dominant in public and in bed, if you will. You wanted to pay for dates, and buy him flowers, and make him feel special too - at least on the occasion. That role came naturally to you, that let me make you feel owned type affection that only a dominant person can give. It scared men off - out of relationships, and you totally got why - but you liked Spencer too much as a person to risk iit.

Spencer holds your hands together, gathering your attention. You looked at him spaced out and he gives you a look of concern.

"You okay?," Spencer asks. You nod, chewing your lip in debate of whether or not you should express your concerns. Spencer just tugs on your hand and looks at you intently.

You sigh, looking at Spencer softly.

"I'm okay I just really like you," you say a little exasperated. Spencer laughs but is filled with relief.

"I'm glad to hear that. What else is on your mind?,"

"I really like you - like in an, I want you to officially by my boyfriend way and I hope it's not too soon but I'm just, worried I guess," you say nervously. Spencer can't help the way his heart beats in his chest when he hears you say boyfriend. God did he want to be your boyfriend.

"What're you worried about?,"

"I'm worried about freaking you out. I can be a lot since I'm... you know?," You say nervously. Spencer looks at you  to continue.

"I'm more than just dominant in bed, and for a lot of guys it's not their thing and that's their right but I like you so much. I really don't want that to happen if I ask you out now and you realize that it's not for you," you say in clear upset.

Spencer looks at you in disbelief. You were worried that he was gonna freak out over that? That you were too dominant for him? It feels like such a silly concern but the expression on your face tells him you're speaking from experience.

"I mean, it's all kinda new to me but, well - I do like how you treat me? It's a nice change, I can't imagine myself getting tired of it, or of you. I really like you too," Spencer tried his best to reassure you without totally embarrassing you. You smiles at Spencer but your face is still full of doubt.

"If that ever changes, I'll tell you but I'd really like to call you my girlfriend," Spencer finishes. You can't help the warmth that spreads in your stomach at the offer. You just nod, looking up at him. You stand and walk to Spencer's side of the booth, sliding in next to him, leaning your head into his shoulder for a few while seconds. You sit back up, and Spencer turns to you.

"Hey, doc," you say softly. Spencer hums in acknowledgement.

"Can I kiss you?," you ask softly. Spencer chews his lip and nods, looking down at your lip. You're wearing lipgloss and it makes them look pretty - you are so pretty to Spencer.

Kisses are their own language, Spencer figures. The way someone kisses you can tell you a lot about who they are - so, when you put your hands on the side of Spencer's face, pulling him closer to you with such care and adoration - Spencer can feel what you were referencing earlier. The word Miss rings out in his mind, the way you pay attention to him with your hands. He feels your lips press against his, slowly gliding your fingers in his hair, thumb brushing agains the side of his cheek. Your other hand rested on his inner thigh and he has to think about anything other than that not to get hard. Spencer didn't get how much he'd been thinking about touching you until you'd do with no hesitation and he lets out a small whine. You pull back and Spencer has to catch his breath.

His lashes blink up at you and you're absolutely beaming.

"You're cute baby,"

Baby? Spencer wants to cover his face when you say it. You kiss him again and he can't help but feel flush.

You were Spencer's girlfriend and then some and he couldn't be more happy.

[mirrorforevers]

graham/reader • and i love him

hmmmmmm so

i wrote a lil smutty n angsty gra/fem!reader fic set in the late 90s and im kinda proud of it ‼️

👉🏼 👈🏼 

this is my first work for the blur fandom and im Nervous bc i haven’t been writing for a while and english is not my first language but hope u guys enjoy it anyway - if you enjoy it enough i’ll post it on ao3 too, aight? also this hasn’t been beta’ed by anyone so yeah. also feel free to send me a message if u want to beta it in case you wanna see it there. aaaaaaaaa

tw: alcoholism

You haven't been sleeping very well these days.

Any noise, no matter how insignificant, would wake you up. When there weren't noises, there were nightmares that you were losing him - those were the worst nights. Many times you woke up crying because everything was so real, and you couldn't have peace even in your moment of rest.

Sometimes it was difficult to love him.

The memories of the long lazy days you spent watching TV, painting each other's backs and tasting all sorts of bizarre treats he brought from the different countries he travelled to with his band were gradually replaced by memories of corrosive words exchanged between the two of you and moments where either you or he ended up crying in each other's arms - out of shame, out of despair, out of frustration. But that didn't mean that you were loving him any less, just that your individual tribulations sometimes got too heavy even to share.

You knew he was going through a very difficult time, but he didn't open up to you very much about it and it frustrated you on a level that you could barely describe. Being in a serious relationship was something so new to you, and it helped you so much in your bad times, and you just couldn't understand why he didn't trust you like you trusted him. "It's not that I don't trust you, you're the most important person in the world to me," he'd typically say. "It's such a terrible feeling, and I just want it to go away. I don't even like to talk about it."

This is the same thing he says to you with teary eyes as the hot water in the shower wets your skin and his. For the third time that week, you had to help him, without even having the opportunity to take your own clothes off, to take off his clothes that smelled unbearably of alcohol and sweat and to take a shower. You no longer had the strength to argue or lecture him, and your silence of resignation somehow seemed to hurt him even more. He tried to bring up other subjects and remind you of good things, and your throat seemed to close more and more. Before your eyes could also fill with tears, you just left a small, shaky "Gra, please... let's just get this over with." escape from your lips. He got the message, maybe. And he agreed to have his hair washed in silence.

After you help him dry off and choose clean underwear, sleep got the best of him and then it was your turn to take a shower and try to sleep. You swore he was asleep a long time ago, when, just before you fell asleep, you heard an almost whispered, fragile "I love you" coming from the other side of the bed. It somehow hurt you more than it should - it's been so long since you've wanted to hear it from the man you truly know - a sober Graham, a little unsure of himself but a guy with such a full and gentle heart. You knew that his problem with drinking was not just the search for overcoming that insecurity, but a constant attempt to escape from the reality that, years before, he thought he wanted to be part of. And as for that, there was not much for you to do. But you still missed it so much in another context, in what now seems to be an eternity ago.

By some miracle, you did not wake up in the middle of the night due to some noise caused by Graham or due to some nightmare, but only in the morning thanks to the sunlight illuminating your face. But Graham was no longer on your side, and you closed your eyes, sighing. Another long day without him among thousands of rehearsals and concerts and meetings and photoshoots he had to attend, which anticipated yet another long night of ill-resolved fights.

"I'm terribly sorry for fucking up again." And then you opened your eyes. There he was, now with a shirt over the underwear you chose for him, his voice as low as ever. Without his glasses.

Finally, the Graham you knew. Your eyes light up and you move to get up from the comfortable bed you shared when he interrupts you. "No, stay right there."

"I've been missing you." You say with an almost whiny voice, a faint but genuine smile taking over your expressions. "Don't you have *anything* to do today?" You ask, as he pulls out a camera to photograph you in your current position - messy hair, while wearing only his t-shirt. You don't hide from the clicks. After being satisfied with the result, he positions himself between your legs, and you spend a few minutes in silence in that position, face to face, just reading each other's expressions so closely.

It was very difficult not to love the beautiful boy in front of you.

"I do." And with that, he places a very soft and loving kiss on your lips, which slowly incorporates the latent desire burning on both of you. It's so good not to taste the alcohol, just the mouthwash with the touch of a cigarette that he just smoked. He only stops after a few more long pecks, calmly brushing away some of the strands of hair off your face, "I'm sorry for being such a cunt. Things are being very difficult for me lately."

You look away from him so you don't cry. This subject really breaks your heart. "Things are very difficult for me too."

He calmly brings your face up to look at him again. "They don't have to be. I don't want to make you go through this. I swear I will try to get help."

This is not the first time he has said this. But you pretend to believe him. And this time, you start the kiss, a little more fervently than before. Perhaps this is a silent agreement between you two. You feel something slowly grow beneath you, and you move against the feeling, making you both gasp softly in the middle of the kiss. The lips part, and then he looks into your eyes deeply again, both foreheads touching - as he silently asks you for permission to make it up to you. You just nod between heavy shared breaths. He goes to kiss you intensely, albeit very lovingly, while slowly lowering his hand to your clit, where he begins a slow circular movement. You close your eyes, and he pleads, quietly – “Keep looking at me, love”.

Gradually, you start to grind harder against his talented fingers, and when he realizes that your body is prepared enough (and quickly expresses it to you - "fuck, you really missed me", making your cheeks burn), he inserts two fingers into you, while insisting on the circular movements that delighted you so much. You're having goosebumps and you slowly feel that delicious wave of heat build up in you as he continues with his movements. You surprise him by kissing his neck slowly between timid but sincere moans that gradually escape from you. His voice trembles with arousal. "This is all about you, love. But that's quite nice." When he feels your body stiffen, and hears your moans become more urgent, he stops his movements and gives you a kiss on the cheek that borders on mockery, giving a small laugh with your grunt of protest. He mutters a small "Be patient baby, please. Come on my mouth instead.". Graham's hoarse voice in your ear almost kills you. He raises the hand that was stimulating you in an absurd way seconds before to lift and remove your shirt, basking in the sight of your breasts - hands sliding down your sides, he lifts your chest to his mouth, which makes you happy but it does not meet 100% of your needs. He knows that. And he wants to take his sweet time while his talented tongue takes turns between each of your breasts for a while, eliciting smaller moans from you but still giving you so much pleasure.

Honestly, what a view. His big brown eyes, when not closed due to his determination and focus on making you feel good, sometimes fixes on yours and the cloud of attraction between you two almost becomes tangible. Then, he quickly lifts up to give your mouth a sensuous kiss while his hand then makes its way down your body, taking a detour at your already sensible breasts to grab one and give it a slow squeeze. "You're so fucking beautiful. I love you." His pure adoration for you drips from his voice, and you feel like you're about to burst from how much in love and horny you are.

"I love you too."

He gives you that goddamn smile that melts you every time before he lowers himself again, this time placing his head between your thighs while snaking his arms above them, trapping you in what is about to be a hell of a great time. He begins on an exploratory pace, then gradually starts eating you out with passion, though not forgetting to be gentle enough so he doesn't hurt you or seems inexperienced. That he *really* isn't.

He moans deliciously on your clit the moment your grip on his hair tightens - he loves it when you're rougher with him, a sub at heart, really, though he's undoubtedly getting better at dealing with your more submissive side lately. Your body is reacting in the prettiest ways, and he recognizes it's the time for his fingers to be inside of you again. You have to contain yourself not to wake up your neighbors with the sound of your excitement, and you bite your finger. You can't help but buck your hips in response to the stimulation. “Gra–God. I--I need to--”

“Keep still, darling. I know what you need,” His eyes are gleaming with mischief when one of his hands moves to rest on your waist so he can hold you in place. It's too much, and when he hears your quiet pleas and sees your back arching and the frozen expression of pure pleasure in your face, he intensifies his movements and you freeze - your legs twitch and he lets you ride your orgasm freely on his gorgeous, hungry mouth.

You looked down to see his chin was resting on your stomach as he gazed up at you with *that* infatuated look that suited him so well along with the cheekiest smile - he keeps his thoughts to himself before his suggestion makes your satisfied smile grow even wider: "Let's spend the day together. I still feel like I owe a lot to you.".

[dynamic-instability]

In one of my classes we have to write weekly personal narratives about an experience with illness. This week, mine turned into this. It’s probably too personal, and too... immediate?? to turn in to a professor without cutting out a lot of stuff, but not too personal to post online I guess lol

_____________________________

It’s November again.

In 2009 the lights were too bright. Mid-October one morning I woke up to my dad turning on my lights and it was like having to look into the sun while posing for a photo—my eyes wouldn’t stay open, if I forced them to, they couldn’t stay pointed in one direction, they spasmed and hurt. When the light was dimmed, I still saw double. That morning, I showered in the dark, and I remember being scared. They gave me eyedrops that paralyzed my accommodative muscles. In November my pupils were giant discs and I wore reading glasses over sunglasses to look at the computer, and when it was all said and done, the lights were still too bright, and I still saw double.

In 2011 I was tired. There’s fatigue and then there’s fatigue, I learned that Fall. In May of that year I had pulled two all-nighters in a week, and that was the only other time I’d felt this kind of tired, a sensation in about the 30th hour of the second time where it’s like my brain itched. I once saw someone else online describe it as “nausea, but in your head and eyes instead of in your throat and stomach” and that’s the closest anyone else has come to describing it. By November this was happening more and more often. I remember laying down in the corner of the room during a break of Citywide choir and thinking what the hell is wrong with me? I got a cold the next week, and I thought that maybe that was all it was. It wasn’t.

In 2013 I went to the ER for the fifth time in three months of college, and when I wanted to leave before waiting another couple of hours to eventually see a doctor who would tell me once again that they couldn’t do anything to help me, the woman from student life who was there to drive me back to campus made me call my parents on speaker phone and get their permission to leave before she would turn on the car. I had missed more chemistry labs than I could afford to miss without failing, passed out in a voice lesson, was asked by the director to drop out of choir because watching me was distraction when I looked like I was in pain, and if I passed out it would have ruined the concert for everyone. I remember leaving calculus in the mornings mid-class to go to the bathroom and lay on the floor and cry. I remember not being able to lift my hand off the mattress of my dorm room bed. I withdrew from half of my classes on the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, and took the Spring semester off.

In 2014 I had made a promise to myself that I would come back to college full time for that Fall semester just to see if I could do it, and then if I couldn’t I would drop out for good. There was one week where I thought that might be happening. Mid-November. The girls in my dorm had made a fort in the lounge out of sheets and blankets and colorful scarves and I remember laying on the couch through the green-filtered light and feeling the world spin and thinking oh god I still can’t do this. The door opened with a rush of cold air and my friends came in with food for me, since I’d been too sick to go to dinner. They sat with me and helped me with chemistry, offered to type up a paper if I dictated it, told jokes and made me laugh. I took an incomplete in one class, but I passed everything else, just barely scraped through, and came back in January.

In 2015 I just wanted to sleep. I passed out in an elevator and heard familiar voices, concerned voices, as I came to, and I stayed there laying motionless for another minute longer, because as long as I wasn’t awake I didn’t have to keep pushing. I wrote whole pages of completely unreadable ochem notes because my hand wasn’t working any better than my brain, and woke up on the floor and was wheeled out on a stretcher crying. It was dark all the time. My cane slipped on wet leaves and I felt my wrist crunch and there it was, one too many missed organic chemistry labs. I couldn’t stand for an entire choir rehearsal because breathing to sing made me lightheaded. I slept for 16 hours a day. The week before Thanksgiving, I called my mother to tell her I had decided to take another hardship withdrawal, and she sighed. I had applied to transfer schools during my much more optimistic Spring semester and Summer, and the week I left was also the week I found out I’d been accepted.

And so okay now it’s 2019, and it’s October and now November again, semester plan again, dark again. My reading is piling up again, feeling overwhelmed again, laying on my kitchen floor again. But here’s the thing—my health is… fine? Midterm week I didn’t sleep, and yes I passed out twice, but no ER. For the past 18 months, I can count on one hand the number of mornings I’ve been unable to get out of bed because of fatigue. My heart still pounds too hard but my head doesn’t swim every time I sit up. I walk the streets of New York City like mobility has never been a problem. I always take the stairs. My brain doesn’t itch until it’s been 30 hours no sleep.

I couldn’t go to class last week. I lay on the floor of my kitchen and stared up at the ceiling and tried to get up, tried to type out an email to my professors, and I couldn’t do it. I was not too tired. I was not too weak. I was not in pain. I could not move. I try to write and try to write and try to write and the words don’t come. I eat instant oatmeal at 9 PM because I haven’t been to the store in a month. I have lost nearly 15 pounds since moving to New York. I clean the stove for two and a half hours but can’t bring myself to take the dead spider off the side of the bathtub. I check the door lock one-two-three times, pace the floor, sit back down. I do not read Austerlitz. I write a Canvas post for Self and Other but it’s nonsense. I do not write a Canvas post for Accounts of Self. I do not write a Canvas post for Applied Writing. I write a Canvas post for Illness and Disability and somehow forget to post it, the one thing I’ve actually done, because I’m too busy feeling sick at everything I haven’t. I shadow a doctor for the clinical witnessing assignment and everything is fine but when I try to write it up I have a panic attack that leaves me sobbing on my couch and the assignment nine days late and counting. It takes me eight hours to write two pages. I watch 18 hours of YouTube video essays discussing drama about creators I don’t even watch and play a stupid game on my phone for an entire weekend until I’ve spent $25+ in a labyrinth of microtransations and every time I close my eyes I see the moving dots.

In November of 2015 I had three overdue essays for Global Literature, and two more due in the next two weeks. More than half were on books I had not read. My pre-lab wasn’t done for organic chemistry, and I wondered for a moment, if I pretended to pass out, if that would be easier. I stayed up until 4 AM laying on my floor and listening to Hamilton. I was sick, that much is true, but when I felt okay I still sat at my computer and could not bring myself to write.

In 2011 I had so many unfinished assignments for my college-level English class that I resigned myself to failing and I went to school the morning of the final class, but I hid in the stairwell by the choir room until I heard the bell, and I never went back to that class.

2009 was the year my dad stopped being able to yell at me for not doing my homework, because no one, including me, could tell whether it was actually my eyes stopping me.

In 2008 I wrote 6 essays in the 5 days of Thanksgiving break because I had not done any work for Intro to Lit all semester. I pulled it off, somehow, even aced the class because of an unusually lenient late work policy, but what I most remember is the sick feeling of dread as I lay on the floor in the living room staring up at the Christmas tree and feeling invisible sand slip through an invisible hourglass and a vice tightening in my chest.

In 2006 I stayed up almost all night writing a paper and crying my eyes out because I couldn’t find the words to explain to anyone why it had been so impossible for me to get the work done, that I wasn’t being lazy or distracted, I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t necessarily reading YA novels or watching TV or IMing my friends instead of working, I could sit and stare at a blank word document for 6 hours straight and still it would not get done. Everyone talked about potential, talked about how smart I was, but a gradebook that is half 100’s and half 0’s still averages out to an F. No one, including me, could explain the discrepancy. The logic of that simple math was not lost on me, the knowledge that turning in half-finished or not very good work was mathematically better than not doing it, but that didn’t mean I could do it. Words failed me when I tried to explain the illogic of my particular suffering.

I didn’t hear the term executive dysfunction until I was in my 20s. In retrospect I was tentatively told at 16 that I had “probably some ADHD and OCD”, but that psychiatrist was someone I’d been sent to by a neurologist because he thought she could fix my eyes, and when she said she couldn’t, I stopped making appointments. After I got sick, physically sick, the lines blurred between what was causing what, to the point where even I have no idea. Two of the Novembers missing here are ones I spent at CC, on the block plan where I only took one class at a time. My physical health arguably improved a little after transferring in January of 2016, but mostly it didn’t, not until Spring of 2018 at least. And you can see that evidence in dropped blocks, concussions from passing out onto hard surfaces, a couple of incompletes taken when viral illnesses (or concussions) compounded my other problems. What the block plan changed was the way things pile up, lessened the struggle of constant task switching between classes. (Admittedly, I also had fewer papers when taking mostly science classes. Writing takes much more energy, and it’s much harder to convince myself it doesn’t have to be perfect to be worth submitting.) At CC nothing ever really reached the level of catastrophe. Some of that is purely the ability to drop a single block, meaning when it was my physical health that was the problem, I didn’t lose a whole semester, just one class, then reset. But I should have realized sooner that the block plan wouldn’t account for the level of improvement if my physical health had really been the only barrier.

So we’re back to now. Grad school. November again. Dark again. Semester plan again. Too much writing again. Crushing dread again. Dysfunction again. Panic attack in the middle of the night increasingly elaborate organizing rituals scream of the subway tracks in my mind can’t stop can’t start can’t breathe can’t move burnout again. This time without the explanation of chronic fatigue to fall back on.

I have my tricks, have actually learned somewhat to cope in the past 18 years. Schedules help, break tasks into pieces that are as small as possible. Mindfulness meditation. Forgive yourself when it’s not perfect. Get started with something easy, set a timer for 20 minutes and only work for those 20 minutes and then let yourself stop if you want to (and surprisingly often, you won’t want to, sometimes that momentum is all it takes). If you work better in the night, work in the night, who cares what society says your sleep schedule should be. When switching tasks, physically get up and move to a different location. Allow yourself to procrastinate on work with other work if that’s what you have to do. Delete the stupid games from your phone. One or two missed assignments are not actually the end of the world, if you let yourself view it as piling up, you won’t be able to get anything done, so if you absolutely have to, just move through and move on.

It’s not a catastrophe, this November. It’s a fight, but it’s not a catastrophe. I read Austerlitz and forgive myself for skimming it. I write a Canvas post and forgive myself when it’s only 500 words and doesn’t make complete sense. I read Toni Morrison and Édouard Louis and classmates’ discussion posts about Deaf culture and identity and remember why this matters in the first place, that it’s not just a series of assignments to overwhelm me, it’s a series of interesting complicated exhausting important thoughts and questions. I get it done. Some of it. Most of it. I let myself sleep. I breathe. I remember to be grateful because I can get out of bed in the mornings and take the stairs. I am okay.

[3785091890821]

ohoho

[sunsetsugar]

RULES: ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTIONS. THEN TAG OTHER PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER.

Thank you @dt-minsuga for tagging ily 

HOW TALL ARE YOU? 170cm i literally whipped a tape measure out just now 

WHAT COLOUR ARE YOUR EYES? im gonna be one of Those People n say theyre Sea Green sdlkjfnsdljfnsldjn

DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS AND / OR GLASSES? please im a blind bitch 

DO YOU WEAR BRACES? Never!!!

WHAT IS YOUR FASHION STYLE? Comfort is a Big one lmao. very pink atm. someone once called it cute but i dont wanna say cute lol 

WHEN WERE YOU BORN? 10 November!!

HOW OLD ARE YOU? 19

DO YOU HAVE ANY SIBLINGS? Nada

WHAT SCHOOL / COLLEGE DO YOU GO TO? I’m on an apprenticeship course with KEITS but i mean... i dont attend any college they come to me kdksjfndskn

WHAT KIND OF STUDENT ARE YOU? A nerd usually sdjfnskdjfnksjn. If i find smthn i like ill study it obsessively but otherwise im normally a rlly bad procrastinator 

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVOURITE SUBJECTS? Biology, Drama , Psychology, i kinda like english as well n i liked french before a level put me off it forever

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE MOVIES? / Normally disney movies lmaO. I really like Aristocats,Disneys Robinhood, but also Minority Report, Fifth Element, and the host!! 

WHAT ARE YOU FAVOURITE PASTIMES? Apart from Horseriding n spending time with my horse, I really like browsing spotify for new songs. I often look up kpop charts on youtube to check out new music also.

DO YOU HAVE ANY REGRETS? I think my ‘first love’ being a gemini is one of them lmao sry geminis it scarred me for life 

WHAT IS YOUR DREAM JOB? A job where i can do what i love n get paid loads for it pls 

WOULD YOU LIKE TO GET MARRIED? lmao i honestly dont know ivenever been in a position in th past to think about it lol. its a nice concept ~

DO YOU WANT KIDS? HOW MANY? Im more career driven n kids hate me 

HOW MANY COUNTRIES HAVE YOU VISITED? Not enough

WHAT WAS YOUR SCARIEST DREAM? The scariest dreams I’ve had are dreams where like...the content should be terrifying and nightmare fuel but in th dream ive felt oddly calm like...murders n things n im just watching them like oh thats a thing. I woke up from that dream so shaken n disoriented 

DO YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND / GIRLFRIEND / SIGNIFICANT OTHER?

yeah lovely beautiful precious cutie mavi <3

PUT YOUR PLAYLIST ON SHUFFLE AND WITHOUT SKIPPING LIST THE FIRST 15 SONGS 🎶.

Miss Right- BTS

The Good Samaritan - The Pierces

Long Hot Summer- Girls Aloud

So Happy I Could Die- Lady Gaga

Can’t get your love- Coeur de pirate 

Handsome Man- Robbie Williams 

OUTRAGEOUS- BRITNEY SPEARS WHAT A TUNE

Baby Baby - Winner

Shift- SHinee

Intro: Nevermind - BTS

WE LIKE 2 PARTY - Bigbang 

Growl - Exo 

Solo - Jay park ft Hoody 

One for me - The Pierces 

Beez in the trap - Nicki Minaj 

I tag @9yoong @minyoongislaysme @oh-no-its-mo @bts-veins

[chocosvt]

❝ 92 statements tag ❞

i was tagged by jeonghan’s amazing gf @jeonghney for the 92 statement’s tag. thnk u my gold rose petal.

rules: answer these 92 statements and tag 10 people ! if there are questions that are too personal or you don’t want to answer, skip them or make a new one :^)

THE LAST (1-5):

drink: h2o

phone call: oh gosh, i can hardly remember. pizza pizza? who doesn’t deliver so thnks for soiling my day.

text: to a group chat.

song you listened to: exo - touch it bc i appreciate art.

time you cried: lmao like yesterday bc i was watching an emotional ep of hotel hell.

HAVE YOU (6-11):

dated someone twice: nope.

kissed someone and regretted it: i dont think so?

been cheated on: in uno yes.

lost someone special: yep.

been depressed: depression is received at many levels. extremely sad yes, but not depressed.

gotten drunk and thrown up: im the one holding ur hair back.

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS (12-14):

pink!!

light purple!!

silver!!

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU (15-21):

made new friends: lots irl n online!!

fallen out of love: yes.

laughed until you cried: yes everyday bc i gave myself a laugh n a half.

found out someone was talking about you: nope.

met someone who changed you: i havent met them!!

found out who your friends are: ive been with the same squad for 4 yrs n we’re just chillin.

kissed someone on your facebook list: i have never used fb a day in my life.

GENERAL (22-34):

how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: ^

do you have any pets: im living with 2 kitties right now!! but ive owned many different animals in the past.

do you want to change your name: she can stay as she is.

what did you do for your last birthday: my friends nd i booked a hotel room!!

what time did you wake up: 11:30am lol.

what were you doing at midnight last night: eating cereal!! every time i stay up past midnight i will eat cereal 2 celebrate all the hours of sleep im wasting.

name something you can’t wait for: to hang out with my bff’s we have not seen each other all summer.

when was the last time you saw your mom: yesterday bc she broke into my room for m&m’s.

what’s one thing you wish you could change in your life: hmm, idk. i’d like 2 be taller bc i cannot reach the popcorn shelf!!! :(

what are you listening to right now: a lot of dua lipa!!

have you ever talked to a person named tom: yup.

most visited website: tumblr / instagram / youtube / twitter

LOST QUESTIONS (35-64):

moles: a few on my arms n a trail tht’s up my shoulder. tht’s abt it

marks: i have a mark on the side of my head but my hair covers it. n one on my knee from when i fuckinj fell down a bridge.

hair color: blonde.

long hair or short: medium length is more fitting.

do you have a crush on someone: i would rather crush on a thumbtack than half the b*ys in my division. there are some nice girls tho!!

what do you like about yourself: some days there are many things!! other days there’s like 2 things. so im not sure!! im just trying my best i guess!!

piercings: two lobe piercings on both ears n im set for an industrial.

blood type: i would know the scientific notation of the distance between earth and sirius b before i knew this.

nickname: i h8 when ppl make nicknames outta my real name so i dont have any.

relationship status: sasuke and i are going on a trip to berlin next fall.

zodiac: aquarius.

pronouns: she/her

favorite tv show: the office / teen wolf / house / american horror story / atlab

tattoos: nope.

right or left hand: right.

surgery: no surgeries.

hair dyed in a different color: ive been a blonde bitch my whole life.

sport: basketball / sleep.

vacation: i just got back from a vacay n it was gr8 i got 10/10 sky pics!!<3

pair of trainers: im rlly obsessed with shoes but ive been wearing the same vans for 5 yrs. (my feet never grow!!)

MORE GENERAL (57-73):

eating: i like eating watermelon, twix bars n marinated ribs!! just fuck me up.

drinking: iced tea n orange juice are my faves.

i’m about to: it’s just past lunch which means it’s time to eat breakfast.

waiting for: some mf’ motivation 2 punch me in the face so i can write some more today!!

want: i rlly want a specialized rice krispie spoon ive been trying for a year!!!! :((

get married: i just dont think ill ever like someone enough 2 wanna live in the same house as them for tht long.

career: an english or bilingual teacher. i wouldnt mind teaching chemistry either.

WHICH IS BETTER (65-73):

hugs or kisses: i rlly dislike physical contact so i would pick neither, but hugs!!

lips or eyes: eyes!!

shorter or taller: it does not matter.

older or younger: older, but i wouldnt mind if they were a few months younger.

nice arms or nice stomach: i have this weird attraction to forearms so. also next time u look at  a junhui pic look at his wrists he has such nice wrists!!! what cream is he using??!?

sensitive or loud: this is so complicated. i rlly dont like loud ppl just bc im easily overwhelmed n agitated with their… over-boisterousness?? nd i will always protec the sensitive ppl n respect their tolerance levels. we just dont mesh well bc ill always worry abt hurting their feelings. u just gotta get someone who knows ur vibe. idk what im saying. i guess loud.

hook up or relationship: relationship.

troublemaker or hesitant: troublemaker lol.

HAVE YOU EVER (74-83):

kissed a stranger: nope.

drank hard liquor: just picture tht vine of the kid goin “yo, all this vodka down the hatch” then being completely revolted. tht’s me

lost glasses/contact lenses: every day of my life.

turned someone down: yes.

sex in the first date: nope.

broken someone’s heart: yes.

had your heart broken: i rlly try not 2 wallow in those emotions n instead distract myself so not entirely.

been arrested: no but someone called the cops on me n my friend. (it was just a misunderstanding. i swear i wasnt doin a line of cocaine in an alley way or anything like tht tjgnjt4e)

fallen for a friend: yes!!

DO YOU BELIEVE IN (84-89):

yourself: *insert meme of me watching my own back*

miracles: it would be a miracle if junhui grew out his hair. but also chunks ahoy chocolate chip cookies.

love at first sight: not rlly. it’s usually falling for the idea of being with that person, instead of who they actually are as a person.

santa claus: im still waiting for my easy bake oven u jolly piece of shit.

kiss on the first date: maybe a cheek kiss? idk. a little spice is always nice.

angels: yes. who else is up there bowling?

OTHER (90-92):

favorite thing to do when you’re bored: zone off and completely disassociate.

do you wear socks to sleep: ive done it like 3 times. it’s not tht bad.

favorite movies: FLIPPED. captain phillips / my neighbour totoro / napoleon dynamite.

tagging : oh gosh idk (ofc this is optional!!) @jeonghangif / @sukaato / @meanei / @lolitasletters / @jaehyunsleatherpants / @boysbe / @seokshuas / @trbld-writer

[warmau]

your neighbor aus are so cute!! can you do jun, jeonghan, and hansol please??

aww thank you!! sure, ill also add in dino to complete the neighbor!17 series ~

joshua, mingyu & seungkwan can be found (here) ~wonwoo, hoshi & seungcheol can be found (here) ~ seokmin, woozi & minghao can be found (here) !~ 

Jun

you’re pretty sure you saw him in a movie once, but you’re not a hundred percent sure. everyone in the building is sure they’ve seen him on tv,,,,but was it a movie? a commercial? a show? no one ever truly finds out,,,,,

sometimes every1 is like “he looks too rich to be living here”

but tbh jun loves the attention like he won’t admit it outloud but please,,,,,,,he probably poses in the elevator ever so subtly and everyone is like oh my look at how handsome and in jun’s head he’s like ‘mhm this is my angle take it all in, i look great from a 45 degree tilt to the left’

jun is doing the most basically 

model walks in his plaid pajama bottoms and flip flops, bends and snaps when he throws out the garbage. you will nEVER catch him off guard

his apartment is pretty cool though because jun is the type to splurge. so like big TV,,,expensive blankets,,,,,,,probably one of those glass coffee tables that are super fancy and jun doesn’t even know he has expensive tastes it’s just like second nature to him 

oh and he has mirrors

like a lot of them

when will any of us reach this level of Self Confidence t b h

and you’re like pretty familiar with jun because photography is your hobby and he’s always asking you if you guys bump into each other if you can ever help him take some headshots since he wants to try out for modeling

like you always agree but halfheartedly because you’re not sure if you want to work with someone,,,,,,,,,,as high maintenance as he seems

but one day you get caught by jun coming back from the park where you took some photos and he’s like are you free now??? and you’re like mIGht as well get it over with,,,,,,,,,

so you tell him yes and that he should come over since you have some lighting equipment @ your place

and jun,,,,you notice as you’re setting up is a little fidgety. like he keeps looking at his reflection in his phone and biting back his lip and you’re like ???? i thought he was like super confident about his looks but he seems,,,,nervous 

and you’re like “are you ok?” and jun snaps out of it and desperately seems to try and hide his feelings with a sly looking grin and he’s like “of course~!”

and you ask him to sit and face forward and,,,,,he does but then he like tilts his head a bit and you’re like “i need you to look straight if you want me to get a good shot” and he’s like oh! sorry

and he does it but you can see his eyes flashing worry and you’re like “,,,,hey are you really ok?”

and jun laughs, again obviously hiding what he’s really feeling and he’s like “fine! i just don’t think i look too great if you see all of my face like this”

and you damn near drop your camera because what the HELL is he talking about and you even say it, like literally, you’re like what the hell are you talking about

and jun scratches the back of his neck and tries to wave it off but he’s like “i look the worst from the front, my angle and profile is way be-”

and you’re like picking your camera back up and you’re like “you look like a handsome actor up front, don’t even say something like that.” and jun looks at the lense and you snap a couple of photos then go over to show him 

and you’re like “look at your jaw, and your skin??? it’s a gorgeous color, softly tan,,,,and your eyes are so strong and distinctive?? your nose is like the perfect size! you don’t even need touch ups - you’re naturally stunning.”

and you don’t notice it but jun is looking up at you and his smile turns into a bit of a smirk and he’s like “you think im stunning?” 

and you’re like yes!! and his smirk gets bigger and he’s like “i think you’re pretty stunning too-”

and you’re like me???? what- but then you catch the smirk from the corner of your eye and you like playfully push his shoulder and tell him not tease

but jun shrugs and he’s like “what, it’s true. you’re very nice to look at too.”

and you brush it off, hiding your face behind your camera as you get ready to take more photos of him

but you know,,,,,,turns out he isn’t all that high maintenance,,,,,,,tbh he listens really well to you and you get a lot of shots

and as you’re both looking at them you feel jun’s hand sneak around your shoulder,,,,his body closer to yours but like,,,,,,,you don’t mind,,,,,,,i mean,,,,,,,,,,,,,who would mind lbr

jun insists that he should pay you back for taking his photo and you’re like it’s fine and then he’s like ‘ok, then let me just take you out on a date because i really really want to.’ and you’re like DONT joke about that but jun’s like im not joking????? let’s go on a date??? gorgeous people need to stick together you know~~~~

Jeonghan

the neighbors call him ‘the perfect son-in-law’

because they want all their daughters to get married to him because he seems like the perfect man: good looks, good manners, good brains like WOW the whole damn package

and jeonghan is always so humble and modest about the nickname he’s like “marriage? oh im not ready” or “im nothing compared to your daughter”

(but in reality he’s just like lol please leave me alone i want to go home and take a nap. he’s just,,,,not saying that because that would be rude LOL)

he’s always really soft looking. like he never leaves the house with bed head, owns many warm looking sweaters, always reading some classic literature and seemingly listening to au clair de la lune 

just a real live fairy human,,,,angel,,,,,,,glowing force of beauty?

and his apartment is the same. like fight me on this but jeonghan would have some dried flowers hanging on his walls, paintings by like monet, a fuzzy white carpet, and like vintage looking furniture you’d feel like you were in a story book

and he like even set up a little corner of his apartment with a drawing easel,,,,,,,,like im talking instagram level aesthetic here

collects like ,,,, idk,,,,,,, little glass statues or something like bare with me it’s just so pretty because he’s so pretty

and you know him (how could you not) because every time you two leave at the same time he smiles kindly at you and you’re just like wow. this day? blessed

but one day you’re coming home and you’re in the wORST mood because of work/school plus you got soaked in the rain since your bus came late and you get into the elevator with jeonghan who smiles at you but you can’t even bring yourself to feel the usual happiness you do when he does that

and the elevator ride is slow up but then suddenly you feel something warm on your wet shirt

and it’s jeonghan putting his cardigan around your shoulders and he’s like “you can catch a cold walking around like that.”

and like holy shit an angel just touched you but also you’re like ,,,,, i,,,,,,i can’t take this from you

but jeonghan is like don’t worry, also make some tea when you get inside.

and you both split ways when the elevator door opens and you’re inside your apartment looking down at the cardigan in your hands and you’re like ?!?!?!?!?! what,,,,just,,,,,,happened

and the next morning you plan to return it but before you do you close the door and see a note stuck to the front and it reads ‘keep the cardigan. i hope you don’t get sick.’ and you’re like ,,,,,,,,,,, am i dreaming

but you hear another door unlock and you look over to see jeonghan again and you have no clue what to say because the most beautiful person on earth is being so sweet to you

and he smiles again when he meets your gaze and he’s like “glad you’re not sick” and you’re like “um,,,,thank,,,thank you for worrying about me?” and jeonghan shrugs and he’s like 

“ive always worried about you, you come home looking tired and i hope you’re not overdoing it.” and you can’t help but want to like d i e because,,,,w h a t,,,, he’s been worrying about you???? what kind of romance movie plot,,,,,

but then jeonghan leans a little closer and he’s like “if you feel sick, knock on my door. i have some medicine and ginger my mother sent over.” and you’re like ,,,,o,,,,,okay,,,,,,,

and jeonghan touches your cheek softly and heads for the stairs 

and you’re like am i imagining things or is,,,, ‘the perfect son in-law’ interested in me,,,,,,,

but no you’re not imagining things because jeonghan stops midway down the stairs and is like leaning against the wall because he’s happy you’re not sick but gOD he really just invited you over,,,,,,to his house,,,,the neighbor he’s liked for so long,,,,,,,,,,,,

Vernon

tries to act cool and independent but always has to call over someone to kill any bugs he finds in his house

he’s got really bad luck because while he tries to look aloof and grown up he ends up tripping over things or walking into walls or getting himself stuck between the elevator doors and ,,,,,,,,, everyone in the building is like “he’s such a cute kid!” and vernon is like im NOT a kid,,,,,,,,,,,

but c’mon he once screamed because he thought the shadow of the neighborhood cat was a ghost

but this unconscious dorkiness is what makes him so lovable and everyone’s always asking him to say something in english and vernon is like “good morning” and everyone’s like WOW SKILL TALENT

the type to ride a scooter everywhere,,,,,,,,seungcheol passes by on his bike and is like ??? and vernon is like “scooters are the new Aesthetic”

has one of those cool beds that’s like a bunkbed but the top is the bed and the bottom is a desk area 

and he’s bought a lot of composing equipment and he has a collection of headphones and other cool things that pertain to music all around his apartment

and it isn’t that messy, but it’s all in dark tones like his little sister visits and always insists that vernon change his bed sheets from grey to like yellow and vernon is like ‘im a cool guy, cool guys don’t have yellow sheets’ and his sister is like uh huh ok

you actually don’t know vernon that well, but you know his sister because you work part-time at a grocery around the block from your building and when she visits vernon she always stops by to get food and complain a bit about how brother n EVER eats actual meals

and you think she’s the most adorable girl on this side of the planet so you always sneak in free ice-cream or candy for her 

and as you’re getting home from your shift one day, the elevator opens and there’s vernon and his sister and once she sees you she’s like !!!!!!! and drags vernon over to you and she’s like 

“i didn’t know you lived here too!!! this is the brother im always talking about, are you guys friends???” and you and vernon are both embarrassingly like not really,,,

and his sister pouts and she’s like “when im not around, can you take care of him for me? im worried he’s not getting enough sun and -”

and vernon coughs because sOFIA you’re embarrassing,,,,,me,,,,,

but you’re like “ok, i will!! good neighbors take care of each other ^^”

and vernon kind of tries hard to keep from turning pink when you ask if that’s ok with him and he’s like ,,,,,, sure anything to calm down my sister

and it’s funny because sofia is looking between you and vernon and she’s like 

“you’d look cute together you know, my brother is single-”

and vernon is like OOOO KA ay,,,,,,time to go nice talking to you neighbor bye bye

and you watch as he like dashes off and he’s like c’mon sofia but she stays back a bit and leans over like 

“i think he’s shy,,,,,he’s like that. but it’s a good sign, i think he’s interested too~~”

and you’re like oh my,,,,,,,

but also can you believe sofia. the real matchmaker mvp 

Dino 

get mistaken for someone who doesn’t live alone, but who still lives with their parents because what???? you can afford to pay rent on your own?????

but tbh he’s quite independent, and a quick learner like ask any of the other seventeen neighbors who self taught themselves to make chicken tenders from scratch??? no one. except dino who learned from the nice grandma down the hall

sometimes gets in trouble for playing music too loud but he’s too cute for any1 to stay mad at for 2 long

can be spotted playing tag with the younger kids if their parents have to go get groceries or something, he gets a side job as a babysitter sometimes because kids love him???? he’s so good with them because he has so much energy??

his own apartment is a lot like him, it’s colorful and the most important thing is his speakers that are the only thing he keeps relatively clean. his desk is littered with clothes and notebooks and candy wrappers from late night snacks

has photos of his parents performances up on his wall and in his closet he has it separated into : dance costumes and normal clothes 

all his refrigerator magnets are in the shape of dinos,,,how cute

he practices dancing by himself late into the night so a lot of the time he ends up getting hungry and ordering pizza on a whim and,,,,,one day he gets a pizza but it’s like???? an extra large size because the orders got screwed up and dino is like: i cannot. finish this

and he considers calling vacuum cleaner hyung (minghao + mingyu) but it’s late so instead he’s like “maybe the neighbor will want some!!!”

that neighbor is you,,,,,he’s also up doing some late night work and when you hear the doorbell you’re like ?????? it’s 1 in the morning,,,,,is it a robber??? and you grab a nearby pot just in case but when you open the door slowly

you just see dino,,,,,with his kindhearted smile and a plate stacked with??? pizza slices

and he’s like “i don’t know if you like pizza, but i have a lot left over and i thought if you were awake you’d like some !!!” and he grins and puts out the plate and you’re like ???? but also,,,,,,,,pizza for FREE,,,,,,,yum yum

and you gladly accept and dino is like happy because he’s made you happy and for a second you two stand there a bit awkwardly and you’re like “do you want to come in?” and dino is like “well,,,,it’s late but we never properly introduced ourselves as neighbors so??”

and you’re like it’s fine come in sorry for the mess and you go over to your kitchen, dino following behind and you’re like “so why are you up at this ungodly hour?” and dino is like “im practicing!! i dance~” and you’re like OOOO show me 

and dino clears your sofa a bit and starts busting out all these cool moves and you’re eating pizza and clapping and you’re like encore!!! as a silly joke but he really does start doing another routine

and you’re like holy hell i never knew i lived next door to such a talented person!! 

and dino blushes red and he’s like “im still practicing, it’s just a hobby for now,,,,” but you’re like “seriously, you could be a PRO, you should try becoming an idol?”

and dino is like wHA,,,, i could NEVER and you’re like “you’d do great!! you’re a nice person, you dance well, and you’re cute!” and the word cute just makes dino scrunch up his nose,,,,,but he likes it and he’s like 

“maybe ill look around for some auditions!!” and you set down the pizza to give him a thumbs up and you’re like “once you become an idol, ill be your number one fan - i promise~” and dino is like alsfgkfsdkh don’t say that that’s so cheesy

but you’re like “you know what’s really cheesy? this FREE PIZZA”

dino: “good pun!!!!!!!!!!!”

you: “i know right!!!!!!”

you’re both laughing so damn hard you accidentally wake the other neighbors LOL 

[kidsviral-blog]

Should Two Children Be Imprisoned For Plotting To Kill Their Classmates?

New Post has been published on https://kidsviral.info/should-two-children-be-imprisoned-for-plotting-to-kill-their-classmates/

Should Two Children Be Imprisoned For Plotting To Kill Their Classmates?

In Washington state, a 10- and 11-year-old were sentenced to years in a detention facility after being caught with weapons and claiming they were going to murder other kids at their school. Where is the line between a childish game and a real threat?

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Illustration by Adam Setala for BuzzFeed

Colville is in Stevens County, far eastern Washington state. A town of 4,600 people, it is a roughly 12-block center where a scattered rural population can come for necessities before returning to farms and homesteads. There is a hospital, a post office, a courthouse, and a border patrol station, as the town is only 50 miles south of Canada. The proximity to the border, and its relative isolation, mean that visitors without clear business are likely to be regarded with some skepticism. Checking into the Selkirk Motel, out-of-town guests are asked their age, town of origin, and purpose of visit with open suspicion, and have their ID checked multiple times. The local drug trade suggests that this is not so extreme a precaution. In residential areas of Colville, the houses are uniformly one level, prefabricated, often in pastel shades of green, blue, and yellow. It is not unusual to see a deer wandering through the streets.

In this far-flung, sparsely populated, wintry town, Fort Colville Elementary is a hub of activity and color. In the entrance hall are bulletin boards with headings such as “Spotlight on Character,” “Principal’s Award,” and “Be a Buddy, Not a Bully.” A poster with a rainbow of columns declares the “Six Pillars of Character” to be trustworthiness, respect, responsibility, fairness, caring, and citizenship. The library is decorated with children’s drawings of their favorite books — Holes and A Pizza the Size of the Sun. Giant versions of origami cranes hang from the library ceiling. At reception is a rack of winter clothes under the “Coats for Kids” program, secondhand donations for children from poorer families.

Downstairs, near the fifth-grade classrooms, is the office of the school counselor, Debbie Rogers, and a paraprofessional in charge of discipline, Richard Payette, whom the children call Mr. Richard. (Many students also know him from Sunday school.) The room doubles as an indoor games area for children who might prefer not to be out on the playground, with Lego, Jenga, and board games, or for when it’s too cold to play outside. Rogers describes her role as “one part social worker, one part mom, one part counselor, and one part discipline.”

Guns are a fact of life in Colville. They are used in hunting season for deer, elk, and bears, as well as for fending off coyotes or cougars and protecting livestock. Even more normal for a child than packing a gun is carrying a pocketknife. Rogers says it’s not uncommon for a knife to be brought to school accidentally; they’re often used for farm work. The parents are informed, the weapon confiscated, and one such incidence of forgetfulness is tolerated.

Around 7:30 a.m. on Feb. 7, 2013, Payette went as usual into the lunchroom to supervise, greeted by the din of children eating breakfast and filing in from school buses. A fourth-grader approached him and said a fifth-grade boy, David, had had a knife on the bus, which he’d brought into school.

Payette searched David, his sweatshirt and pants pockets, but found nothing. The boy protested innocence: “Knife? I don’t know anything about a knife. You’re talking about a butter knife?’”

He then led the boy to the hall and opened his backpack, again finding nothing. He went into the classroom, and asked his teacher, Mr. Jones, if he could look through the student’s desk. Mr. Jones replied that David hadn’t been in yet but a boy named Adam — both boys have been given pseudonyms here — had, and the two had been spending a lot of time together lately. Payette took Adam’s backpack off the hook and opened it. Inside he found a knife with a 3-inch blade, a .45-caliber semi-automatic handgun, and a magazine containing seven rounds. That day, David was 11 and three months; Adam was 10½.

The police and the boys’ legal guardians were called. Officer Scott Arms of the Colville Police Department interviewed both boys, each in separate rooms, Adam with his father, David with his grandfather. Arms first asked David if he understood why he’d come.

David nodded and replied, “Because I was planning to kill a girl in my class.” He explained that the girl had been picking on him and his friends. The plan was for Adam to be the “shooter” and for David to be the “knifer.” Adam answered similarly, saying the girl had been rude to him and his friends. The officer felt both boys seemed without remorse or emotion. He pressed Adam, making sure he understood the implications of this, and Adam said, “Yes, I just want her dead.” (The boys’ confessions to Scott Arms were later ruled inadmissible at trial, as Arms did not explain to the guardian of either boy that it was they, rather than Adam or David, who were responsible for waiving Miranda rights.)

Adam also spoke with Debbie Rogers about the plot, expanding on the planned scale of the violence. “No, you don’t understand, there’s more to this,” he said. “There’s other kids, we were going to hurt other kids.” He told her some names, and then picked out more from a class list, six in all. Adam’s revelation about the horrific scope of the plan might have been a child’s honesty, but it might also plausibly have been empty, if unsettling, bravado. David chattered freely about his plan, as well as the physical threat he posed, on the day of his arrest (he tapped on the glass of the in-school suspension room to motion a detective closer, before informing him, “I just want to let you know,” as he raised his fists, “that I’m in tae kwon do and can really use my hands, and when you take me out of school you better put the handcuffs behind my back”), yet, unlike Adam, he mentioned only one intended victim in all of his interviews.

The district sent out an auto-call to parents. Teachers’ phones began ringing, emails piling in, parents arriving, some furious, some just wanting to speak to their child before afternoon classes, others to check them out for the day or for good.

When David’s grandparents and guardians Tamera and Gary were called to the school, Tamera presumed David had been injured on the playground, or that his bus had been in an accident. The scene that greeted them when they saw David detained was stark. “There was no chair, no desk, nothing in there,” says Gary. “It was a just a white room, with plastic walls and a door with a window in it. He’s sitting in there all huddled up in the corner.”

Tamera did what she could for David as she waited for her grandson to be taken to processing. “He had said he was hungry,” she recalls, “so I asked them, ‘Can I have his backpack? He has some snack food in his backpack.’ They said, ‘Sure, we checked the backpack, there’s nothing in there.’ I got the food out, gave it to him, gave him the book to read, said, ‘Go ahead and eat your snack, let’s read a book.’” She took the backpack home with her. Adam and David were then driven to juvenile processing and would be charged the next day with conspiracy to commit first-degree murder.

A few days later, she remembered the backpack, and went to clean it out: “That’s when I found the notes,” she says.

“Dear David

I’ll show you the steps and I ma have changed plans. So Just Read my steps and tell if Im right or rong.

how I got this

Step 1 we ride the bus.

Step 2 stay in class until I say.

Step 3 during frist recess we go to the bathroom and get are masks on.

Step 4 we boit out side and run tord her nad you, me kill her and get are Freedom.

Step 5 we run up to the upper field and run tord my house.

Step 6 if the cops catch us put your hands up and get ready for pan.[pain]

Step 7 Be ready to go to Jail.

Plese write back

P.S. we shoud do it on tomaro.”

When children plan out a murder step by wicked step — when they bring a gun and a knife and an ammunition clip to school and speak openly and plainly about their intentions — their judgment, rather than being an academic, psychological question, must be decided absolutely in a courtroom. Knowing or unknowing, scheming or confused. How do their upbringings, however good or bad, exculpate or implicate them? The state has to determine beyond doubt a 10- or 11-year-old’s capacity to fully understand their actions; an infinitely complex problem becomes a yes or no question. When a guilty sentence is handed down, as it was for both defendants in the Colville case, it is unclear whether it serves to rehabilitate, or merely punish.

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Whether — and how — juveniles can be determined to be criminally responsible has a complicated history. One of the first modern lawyers to write about the legal status of children was the English politician and writer William Blackstone. In his Commentaries on the Laws of England, published in the 1760s, he argued that “the capacity of doing ill, or contracting guilt, is not so much measured by years and days, as by the strength of the delinquent’s understanding and judgment. For one lad of 11 years old may have as much cunning as another of 14; and in these cases our maxim is, that ‘malitia supplet aetatem’ [wickedness determines age].” Criminal court was the only suitable forum for such a child, even for a precocious 9-year-old, and penalties could be applied with the same readiness. Ten is still the age of criminal responsibility in England.

However, the United States’ first juvenile court, in Cook County, Ill., in 1899, was progressive and welfare-focused. The basis for the court was the doctrine of parens patriae, or parent of the country: Something had clearly gone amiss with the raising of a child if they were now on trial, and it was the duty of the court to remedy this with the attention and care of a benevolent guardian. In 1923, the Children’s Bureau published Juvenile Court Standards, expounding on these high-minded principles regarding the legal treatment of children. In each case there should be a “scientific understanding of each child,” that “treatment should be adapted to individual needs,” and “there should be a presumption in favor of keeping the child in his own home and his own community, except when adequate investigation shows this is not in the best interests of the child.” It was republished without alteration each year until 1954. By the 1930s, in most states, children could not be prosecuted in adult court until they turned 18, and in Arkansas, California, Colorado, Iowa, and Wyoming, it was 21. Parens patriae had triumphed.

In the 1980s, the national mood began to turn against treating all children as vulnerable, in response to a rapid increase in juvenile arrests and concerns over “superpredators” — hyper-violent children, beyond the reach of rehabilitation. In 1978, New York passed the Juvenile Offender Act, which allowed adolescents from 13 to be prosecuted for murder, and have the same sentence as an adult. The law is now similar for juvenile murder in Oklahoma, Illinois, and Georgia, with a lower limit of 10 in Kansas and Ohio. In the 1960s, the Supreme Court also made changes to ensure a more robust due process for juveniles, but this was still part of the shift toward making the juvenile system more like a criminal court. In nine states during the 1980s and 1990s (Arkansas, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, Iowa, Louisiana, Michigan, Missouri, and Rhode Island), legislatures gave juvenile courts a tougher mandate — to punish, to hold accountable, and at a younger age. Even when suspects are still tried as juveniles, the consensus became that it should be to mete out penalties that were proportional to suffering caused, rather than putting child development above all.

Under Washington law, children aged 8 to 12 are presumed to be incapable of committing a crime, and the burden is on the state to prove otherwise. Factors that must be considered in order to prove capacity include the nature of the crime, the child’s age and maturity, whether the child showed a desire for secrecy, whether the child admonished victims not to tell, and acknowledgment by the child that the behavior was wrong.

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Illustration by Adam Setala for BuzzFeed

The Chewelah Casino is a low, hangar-like building in the midst of farmland, decorated with a pattern of glowing suns, and one of the few meeting places off U.S. Route 395 between Colville and Spokane. David’s grandmother and guardian Tamera is intelligent and engaging, but her voice radiates stress.

Gary sits beside her, a solidly built man with a thick gray mustache. He occasionally interjects to back up a point in a gruff, kind voice, less voluble than Tamera but no less shaken by David’s situation. Tamera speaks of David as a boy who doesn’t lie, who had no violent tendencies. He was a dreamer who loved fantasy games and make-believe, who still left baby teeth out for a dollar from the tooth fairy, who pet shelter kittens, who carried moths outside.

Gary and Tamera wryly describe their family setup as The Brady Bunch (Gary adds, “We just didn’t get the housekeeper”). Each had brought three children from their first marriages when they married in 1990. They’d nearly been empty nesters when Tamera’s daughter, who had a shaky grip on sobriety and lived with a meth-smoking partner, had been unable to care for her son. After four months, Tamera claimed custody. Grandparents becoming guardians is not uncommon in Stevens County, as parents in the intervening generation are lost to drugs and attendant problems.

Tamera and Gary had a knack for changing diapers and mixing formula, and a cheerful competence with raising babies, but took a refresher course in parenting trends they might have missed. They and David learned baby sign language, so that he could signal his needs, curtailing tantrums as he became a toddler. A psychiatrist at the trial later spoke of Gary and Tamera as “sensitive and motivated” in their caring for David and how the mix of experience and time had uniquely prepared them for this “re-parenting.”

David started school at Loon Lake Elementary, then moved to Valley School after third grade, for its better academics, and finally moved to Fort Colville Elementary, as Tamera worked at the Colville courthouse. David’s family lived just a few blocks from Colville’s Main Street, on a road lined with cedars. American flags were dotted on front porches and a tire swing hung above the lawn opposite. David began to be bullied, or at least excluded, by other children for the first time at Valley, and Tamera got a call from a parent of a friend of David, who had told her “he was so unhappy, he wished he would die.”

Tamera links some of David’s difficulty with his peers to having been raised “around adults.” “Things that children do — push each other, call each other names — he found that very hurtful,” she says. But at Fort Colville Elementary, he seemed happier, inviting 10 classmates for his birthday party at a bowling alley only three months before Feb. 7.

Adam’s situation was different. His family lived out of town, on an isolated road called Old Dominion. He had been homeschooled from first to third grade, but then entered Colville under difficult circumstances. A grandfather who lived with the family had recently died from kidney failure, and his father was frantically busy caring for a wife with progressive dementia, working as a driller, and keeping track of eight children, of which Adam was the youngest.

All of Adam’s brothers were known to law enforcement. Adam idolized his eldest brother, Eric, who had recently been sentenced to 25 years in prison for the murder of a 63-year-old in a botched robbery attempt. The brother closest in age to Adam, Andrew, seemed to regard Adam particularly as something of an apprentice. He would drive Adam around town, teaching him to case houses, look for bicycles to steal, find out if the family owned a guard dog. Earlier that school year, items had begun to go missing from Adam’s classroom. Some were hardly noticed: a library book, a textbook, a composition notebook. Then came iPods, backpacks, a flute, and a $695 clarinet. Debbie Rogers had Adam in her office for bringing a pint bottle of rum, one-third full, to school around the same time. She pressed him on the stealing, and he admitted it, saying the items were hidden under his bed. Andrew was selling them for him on eBay and had told him to take the instruments back to school, because they were too valuable.

Debbie Rogers was extremely concerned by Adam’s desire to emulate his siblings’ path, even before Feb. 7. “Adam kept saying over and over, ‘How do I go to jail, how do I go to jail, what do I have to do to go to jail?’” On July 25, 2012, having turned 10 a few weeks earlier, Adam was found in the parking lot of the Colville Walmart, in the driver’s seat of his family’s pickup truck. He admitted he had taken the car without his parents’ knowledge.

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Illustration by Adam Setala for BuzzFeed

A week after the incident, a packed public forum was held in the Colville High School auditorium. The school board invited parents to share their reaction to the event, as well as suggest changes to school policy. Teachers stood on stage, fielding praise, blame, and general lingering anxiety. Several parents asked if teachers could carry concealed weapons into the classroom. The superintendent, Michael Cashion, replied that he would “entertain it as an option,” but also added that teachers might not be ready to undergo the training required to allow them to “level a weapon at a fifth-grader and shoot them.”

For weeks afterward, students were constantly coming to the counselor’s office, talking about the boys, or, more often, a memory it had prompted of violence at home. One third-grader at recess shortly afterward noticed a car parked near the playground with a few people sitting in it, and became terrified that they were waiting in the parking lot to kill him.

At a Feb. 27 school board meeting, Debbie Rogers, Richard Payette, and Justin Sanders, the fourth-grader who had told Richard Payette about David’s knife, were honored with a Colville School District Commendation Award. The gold-starred certificate praised his “acting quickly” and preventing “tragedy.” He was given a standing ovation and a golden apple.

“I was really proud of myself, and it was also kind of sad,” Justin commented in a bashful monotone as he was filmed by local news, rushing his words together as he repeated his story.

“The whole town is proud of this boy,” Principal Allen said. “Without his first step, we don’t know what would have been next.”

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Illustration by Adam Setala for BuzzFeed

After spending two months in detention in Martin Hall, a facility for juveniles awaiting court appearances 20 miles southwest of Spokane, the boys appeared in court for a capacity hearing. They wore beige prison jumpsuits with handcuffs, a chain around the waist, and leg irons, which jangled as they took their seats. Adam was much taller than David, and very heavy-set, with the frame of an adolescent, but far less confident in conversation than his friend. A mop of lank blond hair fell forward into his eyes. David was brown-haired, skinny, and long-limbed.

The state, led by prosecutors Lech Radzimski and Tim Rasmussen, laid out an aggressive case for the capacity of the two boys at the time of the conspiracy. Their contention was that the “taking of another human being’s life is intuitively wrong” and a boy “of any thinking age” knows its seriousness. (The incriminating statements the boys made to Officer Arms were allowed in at the capacity hearing, potential Miranda violation notwithstanding.) As for secrecy, a third student, Chase Lee (also a pseudonym), had been aware of the boys’ plan, and had been promised $80 not to tell anyone.

Both boys’ family histories and discipline records were pored over in the courthouse — they included missing homework, swearing at recess, lateness to class, pushing two girls into a snowbank, and an incident in October 2012 when Adam, David, and two other boys had put a jump rope round a girl’s waist and pulled her across the playground, “scaring her to the point of tears.”

The idea that David’s discipline records somehow related to her grandson’s ability to stand trial for a murder conspiracy incenses Tamera: “I mean, he had late homework in the fourth grade — most fourth-graders have late homework.”

Two experts who interviewed the boys also testified. Many anticipated their perspectives would exonerate them; this was not the case.

Psychologist Dr. Clark Ashworth stated that both boys were aware of what they had been planning to do, and what its implications were. Adam understood his actions were wrong, Ashworth said as an example, because of his acceptance of the possibility of jail time. He had said: “We’ll probably go to juvy like a year or two or something. I wouldn’t go for a death sentence because nobody got hurt.”

The boys also talked to Ashworth about a sexual component of the plan. He had asked about the seriousness of what landed his brother in prison and Adam responded that murder is “the baddest crime that I know of.” Adam then said that a worse crime would be to “kill a girl and then rape ‘em.” David confirmed this, and when asked to define rape, said, “It’s forced sex. It’s not about sex, it’s about strength … It’s illegal.”

Psychiatrist Dr. Alan Unis, with more qualifiers, broadly agreed with Ashworth’s opinions. He felt that Adam’s abilities, which were average at best, had been impeded by being educated in a home while his mother was neurologically deteriorating. Adam’s writing was particularly telling, he said: “One of the things that helps us think in a sophisticated way, analytically, critically, is when we write things down … This boy’s written language is appalling.”

Unis questioned Adam’s ability to comprehend his own plans or consider their consequences. Adam had also voiced the strongest expression of remorse to be heard from either boy to Unis, saying, “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about what I did, and I play it over and over in my head and I wish I could have the opportunity to tell those people how sorry I am.” Unis granted the possibility that Adam was “prompted” but averred, “It came out very, very spontaneously, and it sounded sincere to me.”

David was hyperactive and verbose in his interviews. He swore, spoke at a rapid clip. His opener to Ashworth was, “Well, I can kick back and laugh. What do you want me to talk about? If you need me to talk about the events that happened a few days ago, I’m all ears and mouth.” When asked if he had told his grandparents about the plan, David said he hadn’t, “‘cause they would tell me not to kill, but I don’t want to listen to all that student speech about killing is wrong, you’ll be arrested. I don’t give a crap.”

Ashworth said he seemed to be manic. When showed police photographs of the school and weapons, David expressed disappointment at there not being a photograph of the knife, as that had been his — blue-black with a spider design on the grip. When Ashworth asked David whether it was a good enough reason to kill the girl because she was annoying, he replied, “Well, the way the other boy and I see it, but you don’t, no.” He said the plan was “actually good to me, and bad, but mostly bad for the real world cause I had a feeling that I’d get arrested.”

Dr. Unis also spoke of David’s mania, saying, “He had a lot of the symptoms we see in kids with bipolar mania … an inappropriately bright, happy mood, incessant motor activity, expansiveness, grandiosity. And then the rapid speech, and of course the problems with sleep.” Unis underlined that one of the factors most in David’s favor was Gary and Tamera’s devotion, but added that in the four months before his grandparents took custody of David, there could have been circumstances beyond their control.

David’s mother is on a battery of prescribed psychiatric drugs, including Abilify, Lexapro, Trazodone, and oxycodone. Tamera recalls there were no such pharmaceutical safeguards in place when her daughter dropped David off with her in 2001: “She was untreated bipolar at the time. She just couldn’t handle raising a baby because babies, they cry and they make noise and they’re messy and they require you to give up sleep and they require you to — you know, at that point in her life, she could not. And she was in a bad relationship, there was some domestic violence. And she called me and said, ‘Can you come get him?’ She had some serious health issues going on. It was a lot of things with her all at once.”

David’s paternal grandmother, Meri, also submitted a letter to the court about her son, Gordon, David’s father, and his extensive mental health history. Gordon had been in and out of psychiatric facilities and threatened suicide even before adolescence; by 28 he was dead of what Dr. Unis euphemistically called “the consequences of untreated bipolar illness.” Unis stressed the increased likelihood of David having a bipolar disorder. He said one parent with the illness increased the chance of a diagnosis for the child tenfold, and two equaled “a grave risk.”

Judge Nielsen summed up the capacity hearing by stressing its uniqueness in Washington state law. Boys this young, with unbroken voices, a crime this serious, with a planning phase for weeks ahead of time, was horribly exceptional. But the evidence was weighted to suggest their understanding of the crime, and of the finality of death. There had been no intimation by either boy that there would have been a last-minute course reversal, and that, if Payette hadn’t found the knife and pistol, the plan would have gone ahead, clumsy, short-lived, but nonetheless lethal. Capacity had been found, and the boys were fit to stand trial.

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Adam’s case was settled in just over a week with a guilty plea — his lawyer, Helen Dee Hokom, did not visit Adam in detention prior to making this decision, did not attempt to raise a mental health defense or to suppress any evidence. The sentencing hearing came a month later.

Dr. Kevin Heid, a pediatric psychologist called by the defense, spoke out in favor of leniency. Adam was impressionable, damaged, and desperately sought out a sense of belonging, with a dearth of reliable adult figures in his life. Juvenile detention would introduce him to experienced criminals, antisocial personalities, and generally lost adolescents. “Adam did not have the cognitive ability to problem-solve his way out of the plan. That would be a concern, but that is different, I believe, than a morality issue, or an empathy issue, or an antisocial issue. It is a cognitive issue,” Heid testified. The reality was that the psychiatric hospital setting Heid wished for his patient was simply not a funded option within the Washington system. Treatment would have to be at a juvenile detention facility, not in a clinic or the community.

The prosecution invited Tracie Case, the mother of the intended victim mentioned in the note, to speak. Her husband stood behind her with an arm on her shoulder. She addressed herself to Adam, who was sitting a few feet away with his lawyer, handcuffed.

“She loves horses and the color pink,” Tracie said of her daughter, her hands clasped and her voice tremulous. She maintained steady eye contact with Adam. “She wants to get married and have kids of her own, and to be a famous pastry chef when she grows up. And if you two boys had had your way, she would have never grown up. She would never have had the chance to make her dreams come true.”

“You were willing to take that away from her, take her away from me,” she continued. “Life is all about choices. We make good or bad. There are consequences, and you have to pay those consequences.” She was nearly overwhelmed with tears by the time she folded her statement and stepped down.

The standard range for a conspiracy to murder charge for a juvenile is two years, but prosecutor Rasmussen was pushing for a sentence between five and six years, meaning until Adam is 16. His rationale was that by then there would be no question that Adam could be prosecuted for other crimes as an adult.

“Adam is dangerous because he doesn’t feel toward other people the way most boys do,” he argued. “There is something missing in him.” He spoke of the “evil” in Adam’s heart that day, and commented derisively on the parade of experts the court had seen: “All of these people concentrate on what Adam needs and what can be done for him to help him understand what he did was wrong. He already understands that it’s wrong to kill a person, he was just going to do it anyway.”

Finally it was Adam’s turn to speak for the first time. He was already crying as he stood: “Like my dad said, I’m sorry, and I’m also sorry because I know this is a bad thing that I’ve done,” he sobbed as his voice trailed off. “And, that this…is not a usual thing for a person my age to do…”

The judge, in a quieter voice, thanked Adam, saying he appreciated the difficulty of speaking up. In his sentencing, Nielsen acknowledged the many, many stressors on Adam’s life, and his extreme youth. But whatever the childish, nonsensical, unworkable aspects of the conspiracy, a substantial step had been taken toward the plan when Adam zipped his gun into his backpack, and hid David’s knife alongside. Nielsen issued a ruling of a minimum of 168 weeks, or three years, up to a maximum of 260 weeks, or five years, keeping Adam in detention potentially until the end of his junior year of high school.

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Tamera was determined to take David’s case to trial. In the meantime he was held at Martin Hall, where he was placed often in solitary confinement. After four isolated months, Tamera says, “he started showing psychoses, he started seeing things that weren’t there, he would hear voices.” On June 18 she decided to post his $100,000 bail — a figure she found outrageous. “We have an 11-year-old child who has no money, he has no car, he has no bicycle, he has a skateboard, that’s his only method of transportation other than me, and they won’t lower his bail.”

She homeschooled David as they awaited the trial. In September, she and Gary moved to Chewelah, midway between Colville and Spokane. The move was partly so the court might be more likely to allow David to go on trips outside the home.

Throughout our conversations, Tamera has remained tough, but her composure breaks as she talks about David’s bail conditions: “I had asked them if I could take him on. I said, if this is all the time I have with him now, for three or four years, I want to do some things with him. Take him fishing, go to Silverwood, which is an amusement park just over the border in Idaho, and they said no, that he was a flight risk.”

The trial might result in more unpleasant facts on the record but it would also mean a full hearing for David on a mental health and immaturity defense, without being lumped together with Adam. It meant another psychologist would have time to evaluate David, and Tamera bailing him could ensure his care, as well as show the court that David being out of custody for months at a time was no threat.

Both his grandparents and his lawyer wished to show that David was a sensitive boy given to daydreaming and alter egos, detached from reality, not to be held accountable for when games spun beyond his control. This tendency to imagine and invent was only compounded by the bipolar diagnosis that had emerged from his scattered energy, and rapid-fire responses, in the earlier psychiatric interviews.

“He’s not a normal 11-year-old boy,” Tamera says to me, carefully. “He doesn’t live in the real world, he has his own little world that he’s in, and he connects with our world but he’s not in it.”

The prosecution did, of course, present more damning testimony at the trial that October, like from Chase, the boy David and Adam had intended to bribe. Chase shuffled closer to the microphone than other witnesses, speaking softly. He proceeded to tell the court everyday details of fifth-grade friendship (“I never hanged out at their houses”), mixed in with unnerving detail of the plan all narrated in the same wrenchingly matter-of-fact, childish voice. For some weeks Chase had known of the boys’ plan to get revenge: “I’m pretty sure he mentioned handcuffs and raping … He just told me that he was going to use handcuffs the day before. He explained rape was getting somebody naked purposely.”

On the morning of Feb. 7, Chase came in from the bus with David and Adam, who passed a knife back and forth, which Adam then slipped into his sweatshirt pocket. Chase earnestly testified that as he walked to class with Adam and an ebullient David, he had apparently told David to “come clean and stop doing what he was going to be doing.” He claimed David shrugged him off, saying, “No, I want to go through with this.”

Melody Youker, a case manager at Martin Hall, also testified. She spoke with amused affection of David’s hyperactive persona, and said that when he first arrived, he “kind of bounced around, rattling on the doors. Seemed pretty upbeat.” She also revealed that, on the day he spoke to Martin Hall at his intake assessment, David had reeled off, unbidden, incriminating throwaway lines. He asserted that if he found out who “snitched” on him, he would kill them, and that he was having “a day,” because he was here and the girl was still alive. He also boasted that he had been “the brains of the operation.”

However, when cross-examined by Donald Richter, David’s attorney, Youker showed she could be an asset to the argument that David was a dreamer, in the grip of a manic episode, utterly incapable of distinguishing between fantasy and reality. She described David as having great difficulty focusing, and generally summed him up as an unusually hyperactive, intelligent bookworm. David also liked playing characters, in a way that most children his age had grown out of; particularly he wanted to play any character “with a sword.”

Youker testified that in May, David had told her he had a secret, and that if he told her, she couldn’t tell anybody: “And so he told me that when he goes to sleep at night, he leaves his body and goes into his wolf body. And he was concerned — he wanted help with this, because the wolf body was getting out of control. And he wanted to be able to control this wolf body.” As Melody explained this to the court, David began to drum his fingers on the desk, continuing throughout the rest of her questioning, and stared hard at the witness box. David had also told Youker that when he speaks to someone new, he sees words and numbers hovering around them, telling him what they’re about and how far he can trust them. Youker’s number was high, around 698.

Youker’s testimony also touched on how isolated David had to be kept in Martin Hall, due to his small stature, outsized estimation of his own strength, and how ill-disposed other inmates were to an upstart, precocious kid, lost in his own world.

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Illustration by Adam Setala for BuzzFeed

Jerrie Newport, a juvenile probation counselor for Stevens County, drew up a report that was intended as a balanced look at the perspectives of all adults in the case, and to guide the court in its sentencing. Newport revisited Unis and Ashworth, who reiterated David’s likely bipolar disorder, and the need for lifetime mental health treatment. The most damaging assessment of David in the report came, in fact, from Newport herself, perhaps all the more damning because it was a lay opinion, in persuasive prose, that amounted to a woman who had been thoroughly unsettled by a boy she regarded as dangerous.

Newport had been charged with seeing David once a week while he was on bail, accompanied by his grandmother. Most weeks were uneventful, but on Sept. 19, Newport noted an incident that unsettled listeners. Tamera spoke to Newport about plans they had when David got home, at which point David slammed his palm to his forehead and said loudly, “What the…!”

Tamera calmly asked David what he intended to do, and in a low, warning voice, David replied, “Going back to sleep.” He followed it with, “When I get home I am going to break something.” When Tamera asked what, he replied, “Something I can break. Like a box.” She offered that she had a box he could vent his frustration on if that’s what he wanted. With his head lowered, David looked up at Tamera through his eyebrows and said — in court, as Newport related the story, she adopted a flat, affectless, Village of the Damned tone — “Well, excuse me, but could I borrow a knife?”

Judge Nielsen stated that he accepted David’s bragging assertion at Martin Hall, of being “the brains.” That he was “a leader, charismatic.” He returned to the doctors’ suggestions, that detention, if coupled with treatment, would mean not only community safety and “possibly punishment,” but an improved prognosis, rehabilitation. He spoke warmly of David’s grandparents, singling out Tamera as a “thoughtful person, highly skilled,” but that he feared she could not always be there to curb David’s more worrying instincts. Though he admonished, “I don’t, in saying all this, mean that David is an evil person, I don’t believe that for a minute.” He understood David’s grandparents wanted to continue to raise him, “but I have to weigh things here as a judge in the middle of a community.” Nielsen finally handed down a sentence of three to six years, meaning David would also possibly be held until his junior year.

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In February 2014, though, Adam was re-sentenced. The court agreed with an appeal filed that his first lawyer had been incompetent, violating his due process rights, that Adam had not properly understood the consequences of his plea bargain, and that his capacity was far more in question than had been previously argued. The sentencing focused heavily on Adam’s exemplary behavior while at the detention center for convicted juveniles, Echo Glen, and brought out fully what had been expressed to me by everyone I interviewed: that Adam was a follower, that he would never have been inclined to violence on his own. His counselor testified that everyone at Echo Glen loved him there and recognized his smile. Debbie Rogers and Richard Payette spoke in Adam’s favor, as did Superintendent Michael Cashion, who said, “Colville schools are ready to serve Adam, whether it be tomorrow, or a year from now,” the “tomorrow” part of which somewhat surprised the courtroom. Adam’s sentence was altered from a maximum of 260 weeks to 129 weeks with 36 months mandatory probation, meaning he could be released by 2015.

It’s yet to be seen whether Colville, and the boys, will be best served by the earlier release of Adam, and the potential six-year detention of David. Adam appears to be thriving at Echo Glen. As he told the judge, he has moved on to the “seventh- and eighth-grade math books.” When he’s released, he will be returning to a house in which a brother who trained him in thieving still lives, and where for six years he was cared for and then homeschooled by a mentally declining mother. However, Adam’s father, who leaned over the bench at his latest sentencing to say, “It’s up to you now,” loves his son, and wants him home.

There is another unanswered question, which underlies the entire case against Adam. It was never clear why the Stevens County welfare and education system was satisfied keeping Adam off the books and being “taught” at home, why at a time crucial for his development he was out of public school for three years, left with an unwell parent. If an attitude of parens patriae had been adopted far earlier, Adam might have been saved three lost years before Fort Colville.

But is it best, then, for a boy like David, who, the court now seems certain, devised the plan, to spend time in a facility with other, older children with multiple offenses? Should he in fact be kept at home in Chewelah, with Tamera and Gary, who would adhere to suggested therapy, a behavioral or medical regime? But then there would be no proportionate punishment, no consequences. As prosecutor Rasmussen put it, “I don’t have much faith that he will be successfully treated … We will see him again when he gets out.”

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Echo Glen is a dot in the eastern Washington wilderness, the nearest landmark a body of water called Icy Creek. It is a one-hour walk to the nearest town, three hours to the highway. Tamera tells me David was supposed to be housed with smaller, younger inmates, but in fact only one dormitory matched this description, and Adam was there, so to keep the boys apart David had to bunk with offenders who were 15, 16, and 17, whom she describes as being “as large as full-grown men.” There had been violent fights in the dorm, though none yet that had targeted David. Tamera’s voice rises in exasperation: “I figure in this country if we’re going to start arresting 10- and 11-year-old babies then we either need to build separate facilities for them, to not put them in with the bigger kids, or we need to not arrest 10- and 11-year-old babies.”

A counseling program that had been promised began five months after David’s arrival, and would last only 10 weeks, due to lack of funding. Tamera and Gary see him every other weekend, for a total of four and a half hours. Recently a staff member, in response to David’s resolute attachment to his fantasy world of wolves, swords, and quests, and his perceived distance from the other inmates, had made the decision to take away his books, Legos, a 500-piece wolf puzzle, and a Star Wars poster. When Tamera asked whether this was a disciplinary move, she was told no, that David simply spent “too much time” in his imagined world, and that he “wouldn’t come out and play with the other boys” — no mention was made of the four- to six-year age gap between him and his roommates, or the willingness of other inmates to engage with David. Tamera says, shakily: “It’s really hard to know someone is mistreating your child, and you are completely powerless to do anything about it.”

While bailed out, Tamera tells me, David played with neighbors’ kids, saw his old baseball coach, and studied. Tamera also saw the whole case against her grandson, the beginning of criminal proceedings in the first place, as deeply flawed, mistaking a child’s hare-brained imaginings for a sinister plot.

“It’s not really a credible threat,” she says. She later adds, “You’ve got two boys going, ‘I’m the tough guy, I’m the boss.’ Of course, they’re 10 and 11 years old — they’re both going to say that. I don’t think either one of them felt they could back down, ‘cause they didn’t want to wuss out in front of the other. So nobody said, ‘This is dumb, we’re really not going to do this, we’re just pretending.’”

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[nihilcr]

I just want to say a big thank you to the people who messaged me about the passing of Jahseh. Those people will know how much I loved him and know what im going through now. I cant really say much other then Rest in Peace Jahseh Dwayne Onfroy you and your music kept me going through everything and anything and I greatly appreciate it. I made this collage to pay respect for everything you achieved and gave to everyone at such a young age. I love you. I woke up late this morning feeling like there was a dark cloud over me and there definitely is. Thank you to everyone who messaged me today it really means a lot. Ill leave you all with my level 3 English Speech on X and how he inspired me and also my auto biography in which I intertwined his lyrics from the song 'Lets pretend were numb'. There is alot to read. I dont expect you to read it all but if you are feeling the way im feeling it may help. If any of you are ever down about anything and struggling mentally please message me. I will try and help. I love you all. SPEECH: Intro: Why is some of my music depressing? Because when the lights are off, all the moneys gone,and the club scene is no more, I want you to be able to find comfort in me behind closed doors, when it all matters the most. - X Jahseh Dwayne Onfroy or as some of you may know him XXXTENTACION (pronounced X-X-X-tent-asi-ohn) or simply as X, was born on 23 January 1998. X grew up in Pompano Beach Florida but was thrown around the area because of his behaviour issues. At age 6, he plunged a glass shard into a man whom he believed was threatening his mother. He also got expelled in middle school for punting the mouth of a kid who had made fun of his mother. According to his own description, he was living the life of a "young savage" -- correctional houses, grandma's house, robbing houses. He built up a formidable list of offenses including : armed robbery, armed burglary, possession of a firearm, resisting arrest, three charges of grand theft and oxycodone possession. He was thrown in prison on October the 8th 2016 for supposedly beating his girlfriend at the time. During his imprisonment his music career popped off without any new releases or music videos. People started stumbling along his music on Soundcloud and supporting him, he was released from jail on March the 26th 2017. X, over the past couple years as gain some meaningful tattoos scattered across his body including Cleopatra along his chest which is his mother's name. The word “alone” tattooed above his left eyebrow. The word “numb” tattooed under his right eye. “Bad Vibes” tattooed on either eyelid. A broken heart under his left eye. An elephant on the front of his neck/throat area representing the whole idea of “an elephant in the room”, which is a metaphorical idiom for an obvious problem or risk no one wants to discuss. All these tattoos mean something close and personal to not only him but myself, but one sticks out in particular. Under the word numb is a tattoo of three dots in a line. These three dots or ellipsis represent life. X says that each dot stands for 1 - Born 2 - Peak 3 - Death. I tend to relate to this tattoo more and feel as if the other tattoos all come under this belief that you are born, you have a peak in your life and then you die. “When you have that genuine love for someone and they are your source of happiness. They become your drug” Born. X was born caring. Despite his size being 168cm tall and weighing around 60kg X does not shy away from violence. But I believe that his acts of violence are acts of caring. Stabbing his mother's partner because he felt he was abusing her is an act of caring. Kicking another student at school was because of the mentioning of his mother in a negative way. X defends himself and his family until he stops breathing. X cares for himself, his fans and his family not only physically but mentally. While in prison he was interviewed over the phone and was asked “What are you trying to do when you get out?”. He said he wants to invest in a teenage therapy where every teenager that is happy talks to another teenager that is struggling and depressed. This is because he believes it's really hard for most kids to be motivated to talk to a therapist because they can't relate to them as much. He also wants to donate PS4’s and TV’s to foster homes in his area and gather up as much money as he can to give back to the community in which he was raised. He even started filling the fridges of the less fortunate in Florida but sadly stopped the ordeal about a week into it as a group of people robbed him of his items and said he was doing it for attention and that he didn't care for the community. X cares for the kids and feels that's why many of them gravitate to his music. He has talked to certain fans that were depressed and looking for answers. He has also responded to some direct messages from kids on the borderline of suicide and has talked them out of it. X understands how it feels to be mentally alone and quotes “You can be in a room with a million people and still be alone”. He realises that some kids have families that just dont understand theres something going on in their head bigger than everything that's around them, he understand that feeling and how that feeling can drive you to the edge. X quotes “Even if my material is vulgar or i'm seen as a bad person, as long as these kids are happy and i'm giving them something to rage to instead of being depressed, that's all that matters to me”. The impact of X being caring relates to me a lot. When in primary school I knocked a kid out with a stick after he said something about my mother, and we were regarded as friends. As i've got older i've been told by counsellors I have anger issues and my anger does release sometimes but I have controlled it. I care for my family and friends over anything. Not only do I care for friends and family physically but I am told by my peers I am a caring person mentally and verbally. I enjoy making people happy, making people laugh and enjoy helping people out when they are down. I've had a lot of people come running to me for advice the past few years and some people keep coming back for guidance and for a certain comfort that other people can't give them. I am yet to truly discover why. Why do people come to me? I am definitely not the happiest chap in the world and I struggle with mental issues that circle my life on a daily basis. If my friends and family are happy then i'm happy and i've realised their happiness fuels me to keep going. X has made me realise that to be caring is a gift and you should cherish your friends and family. He also has made me realise I do need to take time out for myself and care for myself and my own issues. I feel he has realised this aswell because he is suffering from depression to this day but is still willing to help people through their own issues and not as much his own. “Be a blessing and then disappear, so you don't have to watch it all crumble in front of you” Peak. X being in prison was a peak in his life, it may not be a positive peak but the realisation he got from being imprisoned has made X look at life differently. He was asked “While you've been locked up recently, what have you been thinking about?”. X quoted “I found the answer to life”. He believes life is but a perception. He thinks the way you perceive things is very important, life is but brainpower, life revolves around your brain, life is purely the brain and your thought process. Your conscious and subconscious mind rule the world X has made me learn that nothing else matters. Nothing else matters except what you desire and what your dreams are. X believes the whole purpose of humanity is to create and the problem is that everybody reaches a certain point of enlightenment or succession and it upsets the balance, the balance being the people around that individual. You can have a squad of friends and a certain character can become overly successful introducing jealousy between friends. If you have a friend that treats you differently and more harsh because of your succession and your hard work they aren't your friend, they aren't the people you want to be around, they will do anything to bring you down. I respect my friends decisions and their beliefs even if I don't agree with it, I still support them and help in any way I can. Some of my friends have made stupid decisions and i've cleaned their mess up hoping that they'd do the same for me. X said being in prison has made him want to become a better person and that prison changed his world. X wants to give all of his fans and this generation information they’re not supposed to receive or opinions that some people don't want to hear because they don't agree with it. He quotes “I dont mean to disrespect anybody, but religion is for the small-minded.” I again don't mean to disrespect anybody but I agree with this statement. All religions believe in higher powers. Both X and myself believe if you're going to be a good person, be a good person. If you're going to be a bad person, be a bad person. It doesn't matter. Nobody's opinion should matter. Nothing matters. Anything you put on this plant will stay here. If life is infinite and there's the slightest possibility that you have to come back to this miserable fucking planet, Id stop putting all this horrible fucking shit out here and make sure you live your life happy. X and I believe that happiness is all that matters. If it makes you happy, it's all that matters, and you will struggle and struggle and struggle but happiness will flower in the end. X quotes “I will help everyone find happiness or I will at least help everyone find an answer and a purpose”. X’s beliefs have impacted me greatly, i'm not religious and feel religion is something I could never see myself falling to. I respect peoples beliefs, some of my closest friends are religious but in my opinion I don't feel as if I will ever sought out guidance from someone that isn't proven to be real. I seek guidance through my friends and family, through music, through art, through happiness. I believe whatever makes you a happier person is all you need to worry about and all you need to focus on. Whether it's video games, sport, music, anything. I believe people need to stop judging, stop throwing comments at others because I feel they won't ever recycle. Judgement is just a part of this harsh reality we live in today. But it's up to us to look at life in a way that makes us happy, in a way that no matter how much you get judged for it you can carry on and be proud of yourself. Anything that takes me away from joy and happiness, I hate. Anything or anyone that makes me feel worthless, makes me look endlessly into the mirror at myself and contemplate killing myself, I have no respect or love for. They are to me simply a piece of dirt sitting on my shoulders waiting to be wiped away so I can play on. “When I turned 13, I blew out my candles, my wish was to be dead at the age of 18” Death. Nowadays depression has become a characteristic of many people on this earth. X has been depressed and packed with anger since he was a child but is still plagued with both to this day. X said he was a weird kid and was alone a lot of the time even when he was at home. He was asked “You’ve dealt with a lot of anger and depression in your life. Where do you feel like that stuff comes from?”. X answered “Being alone”. X’s mother went through a lot while raising him. She did everything she could do and as he has grown he has looked back on everything he's said and feels she deserved a lot more credit. X didn't have his dad around, it was just his mother. His father was in prison at the time and I assume he still is, X has nothing to do with his father and doesn't mention him at all. Because of his behaviour issues he was thrown around the Florida area. He lived not only with his mother for a time but stayed at his grandmothers, aunties and even his mother's friends houses. He felt alone. Being placed away from people he had any attachment to is what made him the way he is now. X believes being alone breeds a different kind of madness and a different kind of pain. He believes not receiving a certain amount of love can also break a person, especially a child growing up without love and support. But because of his beliefs he has realised and looked in on depression and used it to his advantage. His lyrics are based off his depression and anger, if any of you have actually listened to a range of his music you can tell a difference between a depressing song and a song based on anger. He puts all his pain, insanity and dark thoughts into his music because he feels its therapeutic. He felt as if sharing his thoughts was bad but good at the same time because it made him feel better and happier. He realised people fed on his music so was motivated to keep making music not only for himself but his fans as he saw it was giving people energy and healing them and he cherished it. His tattoos have a lot to do with his depression, the broken heart and the words “numb” and “alone” all represent emotion and feelings he is stuck with to this day and what he is basing his lyrics off. Making music helps him release his feelings, it makes not only him happier but his fans and this is proven by a post I found on his tumblr. A fan said “This isn't actually a question but I wanted to thank you for your music, it saved my life, thank you.” X replied “and I wanna thank you for listening, you give me a reason to stay alive, if it wasn't for you guys I would've killed myself a long time ago.” His reply hits me quite hard as I can relate to it because there are people in this room right now that don't realise they are the ones that are keeping me going. There are some friends that stand out from others. There are some friends that don't realise how much I actually appreciate their company, their voice, their laugh the list goes on. There are some friends that aren't actually friends. There are some friends that are more than friends they are family. Nowadays i'm learning to identify my true friends and getting rid of the people who linger around me for my possessions. I fill my mind everyday with a quote from Trent Shelton “If all you had to offer was friendship who would you still be able to call your friend?” I started offering people nothing but my company and have quickly realised how many people were using me, those people have turned into a piece of dirt just like the judgemental people have. Alongside his reply helping me discover my true friends, his music has impacted my life quite strongly. His lyrics and beliefs inspire me to write for example my autobiography had his lyrics throughout it. My photography writing and the photos themselves now speak to me because of his lyrics. The mood of my writing is strongly based on his songs and his feelings. His music inspires me to care even more, they inspire me to believe and perceive life differently. His music although it's depressing takes my mind into a deep dark space, it makes me truly think about if I were to kill myself, how would the people around me feel. It makes me realise how I felt when my brother killed himself, it makes me realise how my friends felt when Harman killed himself. It makes me realise how serious suicide and depression is. Conclusion: X has made me realise that what is real will prosper. His music has taken me into pools of darkness on a daily basis and no matter how badly I want to kill myself, his music stops me in my tracks. His perception on life creeps into my mind and I realise killing myself wouldn't be an act of caring, it wouldn't make my friends happy. It would slowly burrow into their hearts and fill their souls with corruption. My friends will end up the way X feels. The way I feel. Numb. Alone. Broken. They'll forever be the elephant in the room. Anima vestra - free your soul- AUTOBIOGRAPHY: Numb I advise you to not hide your feelings. Don’t pretend to be okay when you’re not okay. Don’t pretend to be happy when you’re sad. It’ll only lead to your misery. I dream so much and i just can't seem to find an answer for what i'm living for in general. Everyday I seem to wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Everyday I stumble down the hallway to locate the shower. Everyday I sit - trapped, dazed, lost - in migraine, drowning myself in hot water that hits my pasty skin as if it were acid rain. Everyday I curl up in a glass box and contemplate crying, contradicting what people have told me “It will get better just give it time”. “You’ll be fine, you’ll push through”. “Someone out there loves you for who you are” I can't keep living like this, it's breaking my heart day by day. Everyday I lather myself in clothing representing a place I hate, and i say to myself, “How is this going to get better.” Four years. Four counsellors. Four lives lost. “I don’t want to talk to you, you can’t help me, i'm not algood.” Everyday I think, why am I like this? Why am I so depressed? Why am I so angry? Why am I so negative, so overwhelmed with a cloud that is slowly hovering over my life, slowly killing off positivity as if it were a pest. Why I ask? Well all I can nail it down to is 17213. But is it truly the answer? I mean who's to say you find an answer when there isn’t? 17213 are probably just numbers to you; the 17th of the 2nd 2013 aren't just any numbers to me, they are the numbers symbolising the day my brother decided to end it all. Chase Robson - loving, honourable, committed - was a father, a son, a grandson, a brother, a soul that was forever changing for the best, changing for his son, changing for his family, changing for himself. I was unsuspecting of the literally breaking news that was to be heard. What if you just die? Wondering why I was slouched in a hunk of metal on wheels, dad sat uncomfortably as if something was stuck to the end of his tongue. Regretfully, my father voiced a collection of words. I didn't know they would deprive me of positivity and create a continuous loop of death and darkness. “Chase has committed suicide.” I, awakened by the news, had then truly discovered what suicide was - dark, destructive, unexpecting - what it can be and what it can do. Destroy. What if life as we know it is all a dream? The car's window that day seemed to be the cleanest it had ever been. I was able to pierce right through it, through the calm gathered clouds resting in the sky. I was able to envision hope in the sky, a sense of life after death, something I never believed or contemplated until then. What if we live for no reason? My mind - deserted, abandoned, lost - searched for answers. It searched amongst the sky and its infinite crowd of clouds to discover nothing but the vision of the sky’s hue, that darkened, caved in as the sun hid behind the pimples of our earth. It threw a ribbon of fire that seemed to slash my eyes causing them to close forcing me to see and feel the internal darkness that had been brought upon me. What if we just disappear when we die? I had felt like my life was not special anymore, like it wasn't worth living. I discovered that one type of drug can kill you. One type of firearm. One type of knot. One type of idea can end it all. I was filled with the idea “If he did it, so can I”. Should I cling to life? Or should I just kill myself? I now feel - four years on - lost and numb. I have accepted the harshness of reality and let it take over my life. I have become the kid who doesn't care anymore. The kid who takes the piss out of himself so no one else bothers to. The kid who is positive and social. The kid who has a lot of potential but doesn't realise it. The kid who drinks - nearly every day - to forget, but always remembers. So many contradictions, contemplation. I don't care about myself. I care too much for others, for the people around me. I enjoy helping people. Doing things for people. Buying things for people. The problem is that it fills my mind with the idea that people use me. I shove people aside and hate them for using me and despise them for not giving anything back. I throw them away and realise that they are what I need because seeing them smile is what keeps me going, it makes me feel worthy. And now here I am trying to save the world, when I can't even save myself. It's getting harder and harder to mask my pain. I come to discover that I have lost. Lost hope. Lost positivity. I have lost the race that everyone is competing in. Constant laps of death. Everyday i'm alive adds to my slow unpreventable death. I can't decide whether I want to keep running or just fall. I have enough money to be happy, but having all the money in the world doesn't make you happy. You can't buy true friends, true love or true life. The world will know money can't stop a suicidal weakness. I feel i'll forever be the elephant in the room. I can't tell if I wanna live or if I wanna die. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed isn't the problem. It isn't the reason for the way I am. It is because everyday I seem to wake up. Please save me.

[apocatolypsemeow-blog]

Freshman year:

Ahhh move in day! What a time to be frightened! I remember seeing all these kids my age running around with their newly bought luggage and furniture, running into Lumberjack Landing with their parents that all look like mine. The kids (I mean college kids, freshman age), were all scared, the parents were either more excited than the kids or grumpy about the drive. Because SFA was in the country, deep country. Most of the kids there were either from Houston or dallas, so it takes about 3-4 hours to get the Nacogdoches, depending on where you were. Man… driving up to lumberjack landing… all the cars, all the purple banners, all the white people with their freshly bought stuff. Did I already say that? Let me reiterate one more time: compared to my stuff, THESE KIDS HAD BRAND NEW STUFF. I’m not saying all of my stuff (which wasn’t a lot) wasn’t new, but I definitely wasn’t new. I know that’s confusing, but it makes sense to me. Maybe one day ill go back and edit this and publish it in my memoirs. As if, as if I will live a life that would require memoirs. C’mon ryan, self confidence much?

Anyways, I moved in to my dorm Top floor (4th), my roommate’s name was Ryan McEntee, a white dude who was in the military… You know, I forgot the name of it, but the people who were… ROTC, that’s what he was in. ROTC. But yeah, he was kinda a douche. I remember because the first night there he had a girl over in his bed. Super awkward stuff. And it seemed pretty hypocritical to his Christian agenda to be fooling around with this other ROTC chick, but regardless, I for the most part got a long with him. His first impression of me was me playing League of Legends as he walked in. He was already moved in by the time my parents dropped me off. And they seriously just dropped me off, helped move my stuff in the dorm, and left. No dinner or anything. I guess they wanted to hit the rode pretty quickly.

So I was settled in. I didn’t have any intention of leaving my dorm the first day, too hot, too many people, too many attractive girls. I was still in my super awkward phase (im just in my little bit awkward phase now) and so I didn’t have any self awareness or confidence. The dorm did however host an event that I decided would be smart for me to go to. It was a gathering at the pool by the rec for some sort of party with cotton candy and family safe stuff going on. I went with my little party from my dorm, I didn’t know any of them, and I didn’t really care to all that much, non of them seemed cool. While I was there I hung out with little pockets of people. Nobody really cared enough to ask me my name, but nevertheless I did find one kid who seemed a little bit interesting. His name was emil, and he is still a facebook contact to this day! I remember seeing him because he was wearing his cutoffs and his hair was all over his forhead, I thought he was an emo punk combo [somebody that I would hang out with in highschool, somebody I thought I could immediately be comfortable with]. Here’s how the intereaction went:

R: Hey what’s up man

E: Hey.

R: these tihngs are pretty lame right? [I wasn’t hitting on him I swear]

E: Yeah for sure.

R: Yeah I can’t really talk to these people, ya know?

E: yeah it seems pretty cliquish. Im… I’m not really into these types of parties, I mostly just like to watch movies.

[I get excited aat this point. I mean could you imagine? Finding  someone I could share my love of movies with on my FIRST DAY?]

R: Dude you like movies too? That’s awesome! My name is Ryan

E: Emil.

We sit on a hill and start talking about movies and shit. We soon find out that we are both geology majors, and my excitement reaches new levels. I mean, I think I made a best friend on my first day of college! I decide to make my move.

R: Okay fellow nerds human [didn’t really say that, for clarification, future person], how about I ask you the ultimate question a film nerd can ask… What’s your favorite movie?

E: Uhm…. I would have to say it would have to be the thin blue line by Terrence Malik.

What kind of dense, sophisticated person did I run into. Could it be? Could this really be happening?

R: Oh man, dude that’s awesome! Yeah, that movie is amazing. My favorite movie I apocalypse now.

E: Yeah that movie is cool!

R: dude… let’s leave and go ditch this paty and watch apocalypse now.

E: uhm… okay.

So we leave and we walk back to lumberjack landing. We talk a little bit, I’ obviously more excited than him. But then we hit the elevator to head up to the fourth floor.

R: This will be cool. I bet my roommate isn’t in there, He’s probably out doing rotc shit.

E: Heh, yeah. Hey you know what? I live on the third floor, I think I’m just going  to go to my room.

He hits the button for three.

R: OH. Yeah… that’s cool. Okay, yeah sweet.

E: Yeah dude, it was fun.

R: Yeah…. I guess I’ll see you around?

E: Yeah.

He leaves, and I go to my room wondering what the fuck I did wrong.

Looking back at it I may have approached the situation a little bit gayly. I mean, Emil was already anti social to begin with, I wouldn’t put it past him to believe that I was trying to bang him, but my intentions were pure of cinema. I was totally just ttying to nerd the fuck out with him. Maybe he was just not ready for that kind of commitment. Maybe he regrets it to this day.

Yeah that’s right, I was a geology major before I was a film major. I wish I started out as a film major, that would have been amazing. I wish I was that woke. Then again, I probably would have never met DION, so there is that. I would have still met NICK, and MATT, they were my sweetmates, and I probably would have still met mINa, because Matt knew Mina, and Nick stole Mina from Matt. So there was that. I always liked mina, one of the most beaautfil girls I have ever seen. She always said she found me attractive… what wasn’t I woke? Why wasn’t I sexually active aand trying to bang? I guess I never really had the confidence. Or maybe I just didn’t know who I was at the time… I meen, I was still dealing with heavy self image issues. I remember walking to class with my backwards hat on and no glasses, because I thought they made me look nerdy. But this was before I wore contacts, so I couldn’t see. Yeah that’s right, I was walking to class, not being able to see. It impacted my life a lot. I wish I had gotten contacts sooner as well. I wish I wasn’t told I just had to wear glasses. I mean one time while I was growing up  I told my mom I didn’t like the way I looked with glasses on. She said oh well and told my dad later on. I didn’t know she told my dad until I decided to try and live my life without glasses for then on. So I would try to read without glasses and I would get headaches. So I went downstairs one time and asked my dad if you get headaches from reading without glasses on, then he said yes, and your mother told me that you don’t like the way you look with glasses on. I stumpled and stuttered… Then he said I just have to get over that and there is nothing you can do about it. At the time I didn’t know I could just get contacts, so my heart was pretty broken. I seriously felt defeated because I didn’t think I would look good for my entire life. Contacts were seriously not an option at that age.

I remember one time growing up I was going through a period of fuckups and I couldn’t really see why my life was cursed so much. This was in middle school and I can’t quite remember what I did. I think this was after the time I told a kid that his mom sucked my dick. I remember like it was yesterday.

Sitting in Mr. George’s [English?] class, we were in groups, and I was in a group with the new kid I did nOT like, he was middle eastern and didn’t speak English very well, and I thought for some inexplaable reason that he was rude and …. I don’t know I just iddn’t like the kid okay? I think he just had one of those faces that you could just pick on easily. Don’t get me wrong, I totally was in the wrong just as much as him in this insistence, but still see where I was coming from. I mean here I was, a tall lanky band kid who had nobody to fit in with and was getting picked on almost everyday, mostly by other black people. And where was this kid, ill just call in Pedro, who was middle eastern and short and easy to pick on. Well we were in pairs and we got into this arhument that resorted in name calling. We had a somewhat audience, but I just had to win this name calling argument. I resroted to saying the worst thing I could thnk of: your mom sucked my dick.

He promptly got up and went over to the teacher and told on me. I was so pissed off, I was written up too. We both were actually because when he took us outside and talked about it, I was able to say that he started and… and he fucking agreed. Anyways, later that day at home I was terrified, I mena I knew I would get that phone call from the teacher. Well it happened, we had the caller id speak outloud and it was from the school. I was terrified. She picked it up and started having a semi normal conversation about me with mr. George, I even started to think ntohng would happen. Then she went to her bedroom and started discussing it. Turns out I had detention. I got introuble to say the least.

Later that night I was in my room when my dad called me downstairs and into their room. I think what happened was I told my mom that the other kid started it and I was innocent. I think she believed me, until my dad started questioning me. I was lying out of my ass when he was  questioning me. I remember he was sitting up in his bed next to mom, I was starring at the doorway. He kept on asking questions and I started getting to the point to where I would say I don’t know. Then he said if I sadi I don’t know one more time he would throw this tv remote at my head. At that point I panicked and told them everything. I told him... “his mom sucked my dick”. My dad got piseed. He told me I would be lucky if he didn’t bring a gun t oschool the next day to shoot me. This is why people die in schools. I was mortified. I think he punched me in the chest too, but I was used to that the words stayed with mee longer.

The next days of afterschool detention wernt that bad. I hung out in mr. georges room with pedro. We kinda… became friends after that. It was… werid.

[pinksweatergettingbetter]

MAYA I TRUSTED YOU

WHAT WOULD WILL POWERS SAY

ok he'd probably be like ‘hehe; guess I'm falling further into obscurity thats cool i was never amazing in the first place’

-

“theres only one!”

...that is rare

-

“i traded my watch to my kooraheenese friend! it plays the steel samurai theme when it goes off!”

I SMELL A CHEKOVS GUN

-

“it sounds just like the steel samurai theme”

“no it doesn't!”

mayas right, it doesn't sound like the steel samurai's theme. 

it sounds BAD.

seriously i feel like my soul is physically rejecting it 

-

put your arms akimbo at me again young lady and ill push you into your magic soul pool.

-

“that whole séance thing makes trials completely different”

meh

speaking of trials, we’re back to trials! ya–– i dont want to deal with nahyuta

-

“you have to pitch your terrible crossover!! i won't let you down”

as much as i disapprove of the crossover let it be known that phoenix is a sweetie pie.

-

“The sacred murder dagger was used to murder someone?!?!??! BLASPHEMY!!!”

-

“The lowest level of hell; the Hell of Tickling” IM KINKSHAMING KOOORAHEENISM

-

“They shall not escape on their /redtext/ Freedom Express today!”

she did it yaaaaayy!

-

U R DIARHOEA!!! KOORAHEEN!!!

well i

i cant argue....

-

oh god no t voice acting again

-

LOL YOU CAN SKIP IT AHAHHAHHA

AND THE DANCE TOO HJDSJSFAKJ

guess its not *that* important eh

-

the entire court just called phoenix a shithead. 

i mean people say “Polkhunka” when theyre surprised, and the term is “polkhunan”. so yeah. either hellion, or shithead. nice.

-

phoenix: this makes no sense 

me: ooh i cant wait for the bullshit excuse!! 

-

Well ill be damned to tickle-hell. Rayfa’s a television aerial. 

-

oh i see how they did that. i guess spirit visions have steady-cam?

-

.........he ran right into it

dude why 

-

i just love this. “yes he ran directly at the killer, to fight them! with his arms flailing in terror!! it might look stupid and fake but actually it’s kooraheen’s biggest martial art, RonDeliteFu!”

-

every time Rayfa does her hand-flinging-out pose i mistake her sash for a stick and i keep thinking she’s a muppet 

-

“we can’t let the special fires go out, so we make sure to remove the glass around them every year on top of a window mountain so that a woman can um...... walk around it i guess.”

-

i hate to admit it but these stupid pond vision things are really stumping my blind ass

-

i stg pohlkunka is the stupidest sounding made-up expletive ive ever heard

id rather heard cowabunga every time something shocking happens for godssakes

-

“wow he really does care about ema”

hey show dont tell lol

“i cant believe he's come to understand their value”

uhhh well

they stated that they still hold investigations despite their magic pool parties, so uhhhhhhh yeah???? forensic investigators are usually pretty helpful??

-

since Sadmad’s catchphrase appears to be ‘putrid’, i keep reading ‘purification rite’ as ‘putrification rite’

-

i cant believe they did a “what if... (EXTREME CLOSE UP ZOOM) PLOT TWIST?!”

-

STOP SAYING PUTRID

-

oh hey its dirty hobo man! ...also i guess the ‘sexy pan up shot’ is for every new character :/

-

hobo rangers go...

-

...Nahyuta named him A’nohn Ihmus. A’nohn Ihmus.

Well that just cements my idea that Kooraheenians are just a bunch of Americans that stole a landmass and made up a phony baloney culture. 

It has been confirmed that they are legitimately just taking english words and ‘kooraheenifying’ them.

-

“i used my binoculars to spy on the rite at the inner sanctum”

A’nohn is just as perverted as his namesake from Tuhmbl’r

-

“Feh. I knew you were a fool...” 

Cue Franziska crashing her plane into the court room to yank on Sadmad’s braid to scold him for taking her word.

-

“shall be reborn as a witless sea urchin with barbs limited to your posterior”

ok well sadmad, sea urchins asses are next to their mouths... on the bottom of them. completely opposite to the, uh, you know. Spiky part.

So I’m not sure if that serves to strengthen your point or just make you look like a moron

i mean i guess it served to enhance sadmad’s point since phoenix’d be totally smooth and unprotected, but then he wouldn’t even reach adulthood so that sea otter wouldn’t come in too early and...

...he just said phoenix will be reborn as not only mentally slow but also physically deformed.

...uh... nice one, sadmad.

-

AND MAYA PULLED A REACHAROUND ON THE PRIEST 

YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST FROM THE HOLY MONK, GUYS

-

to be fair, she could have stabbed him with a reverse-grip or not; one doesn’t have to hold their hand at any particular to perform a reach around 

-

oh well at least the contradiction is incredibly obvious 

-

at least hobo ranger has an excuse to use words like “bucko”

-

i hate that,,,, theres a rule against climbing the mountains during the rite. that means that there have been perverts of yore who tried to spy on the lady changing 

-

hes gonna see her shad–– (sigh)

yknow, i dont think shadows are detailed enough to know which way someone is holding a knife.

also moonlight isn't that bright 

-

DWAAYYYYMMMN

sasquatch’d!!

-

ok so... does happiraki mean “hello” or “hooray!” because its been used it both contexts 

-

i just realized that the Plumed Punisher theme song sounds like one of those posts where someone takes a recognizable song and fucks with it in a silly way, like pitch shifting it at awkward moments or changing the key

-

i cannot believe i have to use a fucking walkthrough for this game. I'm disgusted with myself. I'm better than this.

-

“no one was allowed in there and the only way up were the stairs!”

ah yes, the unguarded stairs surrounded by people who had their heads down. in prayer.

totally impenetrable. 

-

“What?! This is insane!!” no no, phoenix, youre doing it wrong. you have to say “this”, then sadmad has to say “is” and then the judge has to yell “insaaaaane!!” because its funny when one person says one word of a sentence each!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-

‘rah rah sis boom bah, fight, fight, phoenix wright!!”

um excuse me maya who gave you the right to be cute

-

why does sadmad only have one hand-guard-glove thingy

-

“my bag of bluffs” is an interesting and long way to say “ass”

-

they put... a maximum security prison... on top of their holy mountain. they put their criminals... on top of their. holy mountain.

they put a jail. in a church. in fact they put it higher up... closer to... god. 

what the fuck. the fourth one. only accessible by helicopter.

who was smoking what when they decided this???

-

(sigh) mmmmm id been waiting to use that patchwork quilt

-

“hell of hangnails”

not as fetishy but still pretty–– actually you know what that sounds kinda fucked up. isn't that just kinda G rated torture anyway 

-

wow that incredibly obvious lie deserves the terrible pursuit theme??

maybe its the last one (i hope)

-

“are you the rebel hunter!!??!?!?!??”

um well no, unless the rebel hunter is a criminal. jackass.

-

...cutting dirty deals with criminals, are we, sadmad?

-

“haha, the fact that the third person at the scene was a wanted criminal destroys your theory that it was the rebel hunter Keera that killed the high priest!!”

...wow... gosh i was wrong... and the fact that a wanted criminal was actually at the scene... doesn’t help me at all... because once i said that one person didi it, it couldn’t possibly be someone else... oh no... i guess it was Maya who did it... for reals... not the.... wanted criminal....

-

...hang on, his little power rangers dance was the defiant dragons dance? how... did nobody notice this?? sadmad really was colluding with criminals wasn’t he. gosh. what a trustworthy guy.

-

phoenix: oh no!! his testimony was a lie!!

oh no! the testimony that did nothing but damage your case was a lie!!! 

??????

-

sadmad: get him!

hobo ranger: (does a little hop and daintily scurries off)

sadmad: ... (takes a good five leisurely seconds to stop the background music) put everyone on high alert. i want everyone after that guy

that guy who just. skipped out of a courtroom. past hundreds of crazy people and several bailiffs. 

haha... the kooraheenes police. to quote phelous... THEY’RE THE BEST!

-

“what was the point of all that, anyway?”

search me, phoenix.

“well, i cant help but feel that entire episode was an enormous waste of time”

hey capcom? hanging a lampshade on it doesn’t make it better. it just amplifies how much it sucks.

-

“yes! i recognized that piece of paper because it looks exactly like the piece i have! thats covered in blood and unrecognizable!!!”

...nice

OH AND ITS THE PERFECT FIT TO COVER THE BLOODSTAIN WELL ISNT THAT JUST FUCKIN SERENDIPITOUS 

-

“the ignorant lawyer has not bothered to learn out language??”

well A) he's not an international attorney, B) he was on vacation, not studying abroad, and C) fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. you’re all speaking english all the time anyway, you bunch of fuckin phoneys 

-

i stg sadmad if you say putrid one more time i’ll cram a rotten egg down your pasty white gullet and show you the meaning of the word 

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“the criminal could have only escaped if the high priest helped him out, so why would he kill him?”

hey sadmad? remember that thing about using your putrid brain? yeah, doesn’t take too big a leap to realize that you might’ve just proved phoenix’s ‘idiot theory’ right. maybe the priest um... was a rebel??? who was going to do just that??? and the rebel killer offed his sorry ass?

perhaps, o foolish prosecutor, you should think before you open your rancid lips... lo, in your ignorance, you will be cast down to the hell of those who are kind of stupid....... the hell of perpetual fart smell. there you shall inhale the decomposing winds of ten thousand and one accursed mihtama, while fart fetishists gaze on in envy... 

oh wow i didnt even need to go on that spiel, he just admitted it straight up. but yeah, apparently when Lady Kee’ra impersonator kills a rebel, it’s A-OK. But when Maya kills a rebel, well, fuck, she’s a foreign bitch, execute her!!

also the way he said it seems to imply that he knew all along so uh

maybe people should start suspecting this guy. he seems to... know a lot of rebel criminals.

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every time sadmad shakes his head i wanna break his neck

man i remember being annoyed at edgeworth in the first game and wanting to hop my desk and rough him up, but never wanting to physically maim or kill him. you suck, sadmad. 

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WE GOT IT, FOLKS!! WE GOT THE ASSAULT!! IT’S UM, IT’S SUPERNATURAL FORCE ASSAULT THIS TIME. 

FUCK BIRDS AND SWORDS, I GUESS? ACTUAL MAGIC IS THE WAY TO GO?

hey sadmad; tickling? bondage? can we... keep that out of the courtroom please?

also “oh no! i can’t point my finger!!” phoenix cries, forgetting that he has two arms. i guess capcom won’t spring for more than one sprite tho haha

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“the keera we saw was the statue draped in the sacred robes!”

with a... knife sticking out, apparently. ok..?

also gosh, maya’s really fast, tiptoeing around the abbot, draping the costume just so, then tiptoeing back around? like lightning she is!!

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he just cut off his own theme song.

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“she used her fiendish tricks to fool the court room”

which didn’t work at all if you remember the beginning of this court so fuck you?

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“she sought to use the divination seance to mislead us!”

good going, pointing out an absolutely massive flaw in your country’s legal system, sadmad.

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i cant believe we had a flashback for absolutely no other reason than Sadmad to gloat. I FILE FOR A MISTRIAL ON GROUNDS OF MISUSE OF FLASHBACKS.

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please oh god just let it end i dont have enough space in my stomach for any more ulcers

i can’t stand hearing him say let it go one more time please I'm begging you

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oh no... phoenix has failed... he’s going to die... it’s really going to happen...

just get to the surprise witness or whatever already

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oh thank god. love you, headband guy

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“the dagger bears the finger prints of maya fey!”

wow. the police suck major ass at catching running people, but their finger print checking speed is second-to-none. ...either that or they waited a while before telling people about a dead body.......

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oh gosh!!! its totally maya!!! she arrived 2 years ago and so did lady keera and 

yeah no. it’s not her. 

but even if it was, kinda awkward there, sadmad? she’s um. kind of a hero to you.

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i dont get it why is everyone freaking out. i thought the keera impersonator was considered some kind of vigilante hero? why is it suddenly bad when they “find out” it’s maya? is it because she isn't kooraheenees?

I'm honestly really confused. everyone was rooting for the masked defender one moment, but now that its maya, it’s murder?? 

seriously what the fuck. like the gallery was legit going “ah!! lady keera has come back to save us from the rebels!”

and then its like “its not divine its some foreign bitch in a cloak” and now its like SERIAL KILLER. also, nice. we’ve never been allowed another day in court because there was a second charge racked up. awesome. (with the possible exception of Ron Delite, tho he was changing his charge)

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sadmad can go choke on his own braid and the gallery can lick their own hypocritical asses. i can’t believe i stayed up till 2 am to finish this section.