#my grandfather would kick me and my brother out of the house when we were kids just because we were having fun and that annoyed him

[targaryen-dynasty]

REDAMANCY.

Cregan Stark x female Targaryen!Reader (Part 4 here)

From the very beginning on you’ve been hesitant to accept your younger brother’s offer to return to the capital for your child to receive his blessings. And when you‘re finally on the way, it’s your husband‘s duty to take care of you.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MDNI; p in v, lactation kink, lactating, pregnant sex, pregnancy, slight breeding kink, praise kink, slight degrading, angst, fluff

WORDS: 3.3 K

NOTES: Redamancy means A love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you, and let me tell you: these two are in love. Thanks to @sylasthegrim, it‘s always good to know you help me with my zero grasp on English!

✖️ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

Ravens from Winterfell flying all the way down to King’s Landing has always taken quite some time. And therefore it was no wonder you were surprised that one of your younger brother’s ravens reached the castle not long after you'd informed him you were with child, inviting you to birth it in the Red Keep for it to receive the young king’s blessings.

Being the ever dutiful Lord of House Stark, there was no way your husband would refuse the offer, and once your pregnancy had crossed the seventh moon mark, a carriage and your husband’s entourage were sent south.

From the very beginning on you’ve been hesitant to accept the offer. Westeros’ capital has brought nothing but pain and grief to you, and you’re afraid coming back ruins the comfort and peace you’ve found far, far away from the castle in the North, in Winterfell. But a part of you misses and longs for your siblings and the part of your family that’s still left, hence it didn’t take too much convincing from your husband.

You’ve lost count of the days you spent in that damned carriage by now, solely accompanied by your maids as your dear husband rides at the front of his entourage, joining his men on horseback. But there’s one thing all days have in common: it’s you being exhausted beyond relief once night comes.

For the longest time you thought your unborn babe to be no-fussy and calm, which proved to be false just one week into the travel. It’s restless, kicking and moving especially when you finally find rest in the bed of the receptive inn you stay in for the night. Your feet are swollen, just like your breasts, and your body provides milk as though the babe has been long born already, and all you crave at this point is for the pregnancy to be over already.

As the wheelhouse comes to a stop, you rub your swollen bump with a sigh, looking toward the door with heavy footsteps approaching. Your beloved husband opens the door, and even though he won’t admit it, he looks just as exhausted as you do.

“Is it time?” you ask, slowly rising to your feet with another sigh. You place your small hand in his large one, allowing him to help you out.

He nods, bringing a hand to the small of your back. “Indeed. We have reached the crossroads. From here we are only ten days away from King’s Landing, which means the end of our journey is in sight,” he replies. “How are you and our son feeling?”

Cregan guides you away from the wheelhouse, escorting you through the crowd of his men towards a large inn sitting right where the river road crosses the kingsroad. And from old tales of your uncle you know it has to be the Bellringer Inn, a place where even your great-grandfather and great-grandmother have stayed at before.

“We do not yet know if this babe will be a boy or a girl, husband,” you chastise him in a teasing manner.

“You are right, we do not,” he says. “But I feel it in my bones. Just call it a father’s intuition.”

You roll your eyes at his words and nudge his ribs with your elbow, yet there also pulls a smile at the corners of your lips. He chuckles at that. “Careful, my love, I am not as nimble as I used to be.”

Shaking your head, you giggle softly. “Do not tell me that you are an old man now, Lord Stark.”

As you make your way through the courtyard and towards the inn, you can feel the curious glances of the passerby; a man of Cregan’s caliber always drew the attention toward him, just like your hair did. But you’re unbothered by it all. You carry a piece of your husband within you, and that thought fills you with a sense of fulfillment and pride.

He looks for the innkeeper as you reach for his hand, pulling it from your back around your frame, squeezing it softly. “Might you join me tonight? I know that you can not leave your men alone, but one night will surely do no harm. I must admit that I have hardly found sleep without your warmth for the past weeks.”

With a gentle, intimate gesture, Cregan brushes his fingers over your swollen bump, before pulling you against his side. “How can I ever be expected to refuse anything my beautiful wife asks of me? Of course I will join you tonight.” Leaning a bit closer toward you, he adds with a quiet whisper: “Your presence has been missed in my bed as well. The nights feel cold and lonely without you by my side.”

Heat crawls onto your cheeks at the proximity and the slight implication that comes with his words, solely interrupted when a stout man with a bushy beard but otherwise pleasant demeanor walks around the corner and welcomes you two.

Upon Cregan’s inquiry about the availability of a room, he hands over the keys and leads you toward your place of retreat for the night. More than once have you told Cregan you’re perfectly fine with sleeping in a tent with him, yet he always came back to your delicate condition, stating he only wants the best for you and his unborn child, and you eventually have given up and accepted it.

The room is decent. Not as big as your chambers at home, but still larger than what you’ve slept in for the last few weeks. Your maids already scurry into the room to bring some of your belongings and clothes to get you ready for the night, while Cregan leans in to kiss your temple. “Let me arrange for my man to sleep outside the inn for the night,” he mutters against your skin. “And then we shall spend the night in warm beds.”

Even with your maids bustling around you, you can’t help but feel a flicker of excitement at his words. The prospect of sharing the night with him is enough to make you forget the soreness of your swollen curves that has become a constant companion over the past few moons.

“I will freshen up in the meantime,” you say, leaning into his touch before he pulls away to take care of his men’s sleeping arrangements for the night. Once everything was adjusted in the chambers, your maids moved to help you out of your clothes, but you refused them, having planned something very special.

Standing in front of the small window, overlooking a stable with a thatch roof and a bell tower, you all but admire how quietly Cregan opens the door, and with the lock falling right into place behind him, the room grows even quieter and the atmosphere becomes charged with anticipation.

“Is everything sorted?” you ask, looking at him from over your shoulder.

“All set,” your husband replies with a low voice as he approaches you.

He comes to tower over your frame from behind, moving his hands over your hips up to your waist. Lifting your head, your eyes lock with his. “Alone at last, hm?” There’s a sultry smile on your lips now, and you gently reach behind you to cup his cheek with one hand. “Now you’re all mine for the night.”

You lean against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths against your back. Cregan seizes the opportunity and brushes your hair over one shoulder before he presses his lips to the crook of your neck. The touch makes you sigh, stirring something inside of you you have had to keep at bay for quite some time. When he brings his large hands to your swollen breasts, fondling them through the thick fabric of your dress, you can’t help but moan, the slight squeezing aiding against the heaviness.

But then his hands and lips leave your body, and he slightly leans around you to look at you – or rather your breasts – and you immediately know the reason why.

The gray fabric has become damp under his touch, two dark spots prominent in the front of it. While it brings a bit of shame to your cheeks, the low rumble that escapes his chest sends a fire straight down between your legs. “I should have warned you I started leaking a fortnight ago,” you admit ashamedly, biting your bottom lip.

“I quite enjoy the sight of it, you know,” he says, voice laced with a combination of awe, adoration and burning need. His hands shift to the lace in the back of your dress. “But let us put this to good use.”

The dress comes undone with ease, falling to the floor in a puddle around your feet. Damp spots are decorating your smallclothes, but this time you don’t mind the sight. Cregan’s hands now roam over your body, tracing the curve of your waist and your growing bump.

Although you know exactly what it is his words are meant to imply, you choose to tease him. “And what is it you have in mind right now, hm?”

His gray eyes briefly flicker to the bed close to you, before meeting yours again. “I have a few things in mind. But for now…” He cups your chin, tilting your head up so he can claim your lips in a slow, deep kiss that’s full of desire and passion. It makes you feel as though the air is sucked right out of your lungs by him, as if you can’t survive without his lips on yours. “How about we make the most of this night, my love?”

“I’m all yours,” you breathe against his lips.

His large hands roam your curves, helping you out of your undergarments, until they settle at your thighs, wrapping around them to effortlessly hoist you up. Although Cregan is quite the bull of a man and appears to be a brute, he possesses a tenderness you wouldn’t expect from him, gently keeping your body against his and lying you down on the bed not far away just as carefully.

Soft, gentle kisses are pressed to your collarbones, igniting a fire within you that has been smoldering for too long. As his fingers glide over your skin with featherlight touches, leaving a burning trail behind, he finds his hands drawn to your full breasts, cupping and holding them, and eventually squeezing them.

More droplets of your milk trickle into his calloused palms, wetting his skin, but he does not care–not when he has you writhing and whimpering beneath him at just the faintest of touches.

Your husband’s eagerness would have almost made you chuckle, watching him rise from the bed to rid himself off his clothes hastily, if it wouldn’t match your own desire and greediness. With his breeches falling to the ground, his cock stands to full attention, hard enough for it to almost seem painful.

His hungry gazes devours your bare form, tall frame slightly hunched forwards as his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.

“Will you just stand there and watch, my wolf?” you tease, propping yourself up on your elbows. “What happened to ‘let us put this to good use’?”

It’s the teasing lilt in your voice that pulls him out of his stupor like a wave, the chuckle he releases low and throaty. “You are a temptress, my love,” he replies. “You are lucky I am a man of my word.”

“Then touch me,” you whine, words coming out more desperate than actually intended.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly approaching the bed, Cregan bows forwards and grabs one of your feet. He lifts your leg and starts to trail sloppy, open mouthed kisses along the inside of your leg, occasionally nibbling on the skin of your inner thigh.

Your back slightly arches off the mattress, body thrumming with desire. Entangling your hands in his dark curls, you use the grip as reigns to where you want him most, but your husband acts completely unfazed, not allowing you to tug him higher up.

He takes his time, kissing and nibbling your thighs, before he boldly presses a kiss to the apex of your legs, tongue briefly dragging through your folds. It elicits a shudder in its wake, and you can’t stifle a moan.

Making his way up, he licks your navel, and eventually traces the curve of your full breast, circling your hardened bud. Cregan laps up every drop of milk that oozes out of your bud like nothing else than a starved wolf, the edge of his teeth applying just a faint pressure to the sensitive skin to stimulate the flow.

But when his other hand comes up to fondle and squeeze your other breast, that’s the moment you lose your composure, shamelessly smothering him with your breasts. “Gods, Cregan…” you whimper, immediately bringing you relief. There isn’t even time to waste a thought about the indecency of it all, not when it feels just so right.

It’s your mewls, your whispered whines and moans, the sound of you saying his name in such a desperate manner that drives him to continue. “You make me ache for you,” he rasps against your skin, voice thick with desire. Your husband never falters to ignite a fire inside of you with his words, especially when there’s an innuendo hidden between his praises.

Bringing his hand from your breast down between your bodies, he aligns himself with you, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds in a way that makes you bite back a moan and grind against him. You grip his dark curls harshly as he finally eases inside, pushing into you inch by inch, agonizingly slow to make sure you feel him enter you.

His suckling falters with the tightness of your walls embracing him, overwhelmed by pure bliss and a feeling he’s missed for the past few weeks.

Every gasp and whine that escapes you only serves to embolden him further, continuing to tease and taste your breast with unrivaled enthusiasm. It juxtaposes the slow, sloppy thrusts of his hips, and brings you two different kinds of sensations at once.

Cregan has made himself home between your legs, rocking his hips leisurely back and forth. He has dropped his weight on one elbow and leant his upper body to the side, determined to not put any weight on your swollen bump. His lips are firmly wrapped around your bud while his hand teases the other, pinching and squeezing it between his fingers. The proximity is unmatchable, feeding into your constant desire to be as close to him as possible.

You can practically watch him lose every ounce of self control, his suckling becoming more intense and the thrusts growing in determination. His groans and grunts are muffled, and droplets of your milk trickle idly down his chin, getting lost in the dark, coarse hairs.

You fully expect him to say something when he releases your bud, but he’s far too eager to get his fill again. Pinching the perky bud of your other breast harshly, droplets of milk run down the curve of it, only to be traced by his tongue, liking a flat stripe over your skin. He chokes on a groan as the sight has you clenching tightly around his hard cock.

“Please– do not stop,” you whimper, applying a bit of pressure to his head to urge him towards your breast again. “... not yet.”

Dark-blown eyes suddenly flicker up to meet yours, and a shuddered breath leaves your lips. “My my, what a greedy wench I have for a wife,” he chuckles to himself. You don’t take offense, but the statement does make you duck your head and bite your bottom lip sheepishly. “I do not intend to.”

Despite the teasing, it’s obvious your pleas fall upon eager ears as he heeds your command and closes his lips around your bud again. Every hungry pull of his lips draws more and more milk from you, and while relief makes itself known in your breasts, a different kind of pressure starts to settle in the pit of your belly.

Squeezing him so well, you make it impossible for Cregan to move on his own accord, and quickly take over, rolling your hips against his. It’s a race for completion, making your pearl throb with anticipation.

The coarse hairs of your husband’s beard drag over your sensitive skin with his eager suckling, tickling you and causing you to arch against him even more. You have your arms wrapped around his neck at this point, keeping him tightly against you.

A string of yesses falls past your lips like a chant, and the pace of your hips increases as far as your bump allows you to. Your mind grows hazy with pleasure, until your peak washes over you with a loud gasp.

You haven’t noticed Cregan watching you through it all, too focused on the sensations coursing through your body. His gaze is mesmerized, clearly relishing in the relief that’s etched onto your features and the way your walls flutter around his cock.

He pulls back, droplets of milk resting in the corners of his lips, and lifts his body to tower over you. The thrusting of his hips grows sharper now, determined to help you through your pleasure.

“That’s it,” he rasps, one hand resting on the mattress next to your head while the other gropes at your now relieved breasts.

“Once this pup is born,” he emphasized the words by rolling your sore bud between his index finger and thumb, drawing out just a few more droplets of milk. “I shall put another in you to keep you round with my seed.”

Your head grows dizzy, lightheaded even, and you can’t do more than whimper and whine through your peak, not fully comprehending what he’s said.

Cregan snaps his hips into yours once, twice before he topples over the edge with a loud groan, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of you. Cupping your breast, his fingers dig harshly into your flesh.

You continue to roll your hips against his, prolonging his pleasure. Switching roles, it’s now your turn to milk him for every drop, taking everything his cock spills inside of you. Every muscle in his body tenses, until eventually, he collapses to the side, careful not to put his weight on your swollen bump.

With his cock slowly becoming flaccid again, the sensation of his seed leaking out of your cunt is more apparent, causing heat to spread throughout your body. If it wasn’t for you carrying his child already, you would have mounted him to make sure his seed would bear fruit.

Cregan eventually lies down on his back, and you seize the chance to rest your head on his chest. It’s hard to keep your eyes open as his hand softly entangles into your hair, scratching your scalp in the manner that usually lulls you to sleep. His breath is slower now, his chest rising and lowering your head.

“I can not bear to spend another night without you by my side,” you all but whisper, bringing a hand to his stomach.

Your finger trails the contours of his muscles, before following the dark trail of coarse hairs down.

“You needn‘t worry about that,” he says. “We shall not stay in King’s Landing for too long. And I highly doubt that anyone could get me out of your chambers during the time we stay there. Once we arrive, we shall stay together.”

Nodding your head slowly, you hum a ‘mh-mh‘, too engrossed in the feeling of his hand in your hair and the other rubbing soothing circles over your back. Having trouble staying awake, you’re hardly able to process his next words, already drifting off to sleep.

“Let us sleep now, my love. We have another tiresome day ahead of us.“

Cregan Taglist: @nats-whore @aemondsbabe

[pleasantglitterflower]

Legends will never die (JOE BURROW x COBAIN! READER)

TW: mentions of death, suicide, drugs

I was at Joe's parents' house for lunch to celebrate the birthday of Dan, one of my boyfriend's older brothers. It's been great to be here, I love his family, they've always welcomed me very well, but this happy family moment awakens strong triggers in me and a desire to experience something I didn't have. Seeing Joe talking so animatedly with his father, his brothers and his grandfather, at a certain point my father-in-law hugs him from the side, my eyes instantly water. 

   I quickly excuse myself from the environment I was in, talking to my mother-in-law and my sisters-in-law, and go to the bathroom, where I quickly start crying. Why didn't I have a structured family? Why isn't my father here with me? Why do these shitty drugs and depression exist in this shitty world and affect good people?

  I didn't even see time pass when I heard loud knocks on the door. 

- Baby, open the door - Joe shouts from the other side

I come back to reality and open the door. As soon as Joe sees my swollen eyes, he runs over and hugs me.

- What happened my love? Since the journey you've been quieter and more thoughtful, I didn't say anything before because I knew you'd make up some excuse, but I know you're not well

- Joe, it's not for nothing, you know that I love your family and how you have a great connection, especially with your father, and when I saw you two hugging in the backyard, it was inevitable not to think about my father - I look down embarrassed 

- Hey, look at me - he lifts my chin - You don't need to fake your feelings my dear, I know how difficult it is for you to talk about him, especially since this year it will be 30 years since he died, but know that he is very proud of you wherever he is and that, although his life here on Earth was short, his legacy is eternal.

- It's been very difficult Joe, very difficult indeed. People are putting a lot of expectations on my performance at the tribute, I don't know if I'll want to participate.

- Baby, everything will be fine, you'll do well, I see how much you've dedicated yourself to making a perfect presentation, don't worry - Joe kisses me on the forehead and hugs me tightly

     - Joe, I don't know what I would do without you, I love you so much

- I love you the most Janis - then we kissed.

     In a week's time, the tribute show to my father will take place, in celebration of his 30 years of legacy in music. 30 years ago, Kurt Donald Cobain, my father, left this world grayer, with a legion of fans all over the world in mourning and despair, and an entire family torn apart. I was born on October 27, 1993, six months before his death, and the height of his period of self-destruction due to drugs and depression. Dad fought his demons for years, it wasn't just during that period, and the sudden fame only made these inner demons increasingly present in his life.

  Me and Frances, my older sister, were very exposed to all the scandals caused by our parents, even at our young age, when mom said in an interview that she used heroin when she was pregnant with Frances, she and dad ended up losing custody. However, they managed to recover after promising to undergo rehabilitation. Mom managed to kick her heroin addiction, but unfortunately dad couldn't. When Mom found out she was pregnant with me, Dad was apparently determined to change and be a responsible father to Frances and me, but inside, his demons were screaming more and more, and throughout 1993, Dad tried to commit suicide several times, in addition to intense heroin abuse, until on April 5, 1994, he reached his limit, he could no longer bear to live with that internal anguish that had affected him since he was a teenager.

Even with all the fame, recognition, money and the millions of fans he gained all over the world, Dad couldn't be happy, even though he married the woman he loved and became the father of two daughters that he loved so much, Dad couldn't. he could exorcise his pain within himself, he could no longer stand living in a world in which he could not fit in, a selfish world, full of falsehoods is very cruel. Every year that passes, when I always pick up the farewell letter he wrote, it chills my soul, his anguish was visible in his writing.

  “I had a lot, a lot, and I'm grateful for that, but since I was seven years old I started to hate all humans in general. Just because it seems so easy to relate and empathize. Just because I love and feel for everyone so much, I guess. Thank you from the bottom of my sick, burning stomach for your letters and your concern over the years. I really am an erratic and sad baby! I no longer have passion, so remember, it's better to burn out than to slowly fade away¹. Peace, Love, Empathy.

Kurt Cobain

Frances, Janis and Courtney, I will be at your altar. Please go ahead, Courtney, for Frances and Janis. For their lives, they will be much happier without me.

I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU”

It was very difficult for me to accept that my father took his life on his own and that he preferred not to live any longer to be present for me and Frances, but as the years went by and listening to the stories from my mother, Dave, my godfather, , and other people who lived with Dad, I came to the conclusion that he had already given up on life a long time ago and tried to cut it short several times, but it was on that April 5, 1994 that his limit ended, and then he gave a shoots himself with a shotgun. If it hadn't been on that date, it would have been the next day, the following week, my father couldn't bear to live any longer.

   Dave has always been like a father figure to me, he was always by my side for everything I needed and was one of my main encouragers to pursue a career in music, because according to him, I had the same genius to express as my father. feelings in the form of songs. During my adolescence I composed several songs and recorded some demos, but only my family knew about it. I never thought about pursuing a singing career, I wrote according to my imagination and as a hobby, I always wanted to pass on my knowledge to other people, so I studied music in New York, and started teaching music to children in public schools, until I was transferred to a school in Cincinnatti, which is where I met Joe. My class went to do a musical performance at an event for his foundation, and he came to congratulate me on my work, I was super flattered and we became friends, and it didn't take long for us to admit our feelings and he asked me to be his girlfriend in a beautiful sunset  in California.

Joe was always very loving and affectionate with me, and always helped me in moments of vulnerability when I cried in his lap when talking about my father. I've always admired his relationship with his father, how football is a factor that keeps their connection very strong, and I wondered what it would be like for my dad and me talking about music, what he would think of today's music scene, if he Would you be proud of me? 

    When Dave said that my participation would be very important in the tribute to my father, Joe was also one of my main supporters, for him I needed to face my negative feelings and show the world my musical talent, which according to Joe is undeniable that my talent It's genetic. After thinking very calmly, I decided to accept the idea and began to rehearse exhaustively, as Dad deserved perfection.

April 5, 2024- Kurt Cobain Tribute, Seattle 

The big day arrived, if I said I slept calmly I'd be lying, I couldn't stop being nervous for a minute. As the stadium got closer, I felt my stomach drop, while Joe was next to me holding my hand. When we saw it, there were millions and millions of people with Nirvana shirts, with shirts with my father's face, with posters with loving words for him, there were children, teenagers, adults, elderly people, Seattle became small. It's incredible how even 30 years after his death, Kurt Cobain still had a loyal legion of fans, and over the years he gained new fans, many who weren't born at the time of Nirvana's heyday and who had Kurt as an inspiration.

  The tribute line-up was the envy of any other festival, as it had Pearl Jam, Metallica, Guns n Roses, Iron Maiden, Green Day, and the main attraction, Nirvana himself, but this time it would be Janis who would represent Kurt in the vocals. Janis rehearsed nonstop with Dave and Krist, it would be the first time at a festival that Nirvana would make an official performance again since Kurt's death, but this time with Janis paying tribute to her father. Dave Grohl and Krist Novoselic always play the songs of the band that made them famous when they get together, but only at intimate shows, so the performance at the tribute would be the band's official return.

Nirvana would headline the event, and it was the most anticipated performance, as Kurt Cobain's daughter would be singing with the remaining members of the band and paying tribute to Kurt.

  The performance was about to start, and Janis was breathing very deeply in her dressing room, until she heard a knock on the door. 

   -Come on

The door opens, revealing the figures of Joe, Courtney and Frances.

  - My love how are you? - Joe questions

- Too nervous, what if I get out of tune? What if I lose my voice? I don't want to disappoint the fans, but especially I don't want to disappoint Dad, no- Courtney interrupts her youngest daughter

- Janis, you will be perfect my daughter, your father is already very proud of you, wherever he is, at this moment he is very happy with the woman you have become - the eldest speaks with her voice choked with emotion

- That's right sister, everyone knows your potential and how hard you work to keep our father's legacy alive to this day, you're going to get on that stage and show those bastards who's boss - Frances shouts excitedly, making the presents laugh 

- My mother-in-law and sister-in-law are absolutely right, you're going to rock my dear - Joe gives me a quick peck

One of the producers enters the dressing room and announces that it is time to go on stage. The tribute to Kurt Cobain is being broadcast online, YouTube went down at certain times due to the large number of hits, and at the time of Janis' performance with Nirvana, 1.5 billion and a half people were online and waiting of the show.

     The band was announced and first came Krist, Dave, and then Janis Cobain, sending the audience into a frenzy. She looked at all the people present in that stadium, quickly looked at the VIP box that had Joe, Courtney, Frances, her in-laws and her brothers-in-law with their wives. Joe was smiling brightly at her full of pride.

  - Good evening - the audience shouts - We are here to celebrate the 30 years of legacy of our dear Kurt Cobain, known as my dear father. Daddy, wherever you are, know that you continue to be very loved and that I'm very proud to be your daughter- I say looking at the sky excitedly- and today I'm going to do my best to give you a great show, LET'S GO MOTHERFUCKERS- I yelled 

The show was perfect, Dave and Krist gave me a lot of support and security, and I felt more and more free. I didn't stop feeling emotional during the most emotional songs, but the important thing is that I had managed to honor my father in the way he deserves. After the show, Joe came running over to hug me.

- I knew you would put on an amazing show love, I'm so happy for you

- Joe, if it weren't for you, maybe I wouldn't be here now, thank you so much for always being with me my love, I love you - I kiss him

And in the depths of the sky, Kurt Donald Cobain smiles, very happy for the happiness of his beloved daughter and very satisfied with the honor, he knew that his daughter was very talented, it was no wonder that she is a Cobain.

[jujusjunk]

Have you ever been to Palestine ? and if so what was your favorite place that you visited there ?

I personally have never been inside Palestine but i have been at the border between Palestine and Jordan once for a protest like 2 years ago something like that. It was the last protest i went to near that border because IOF soldiers stood on the other side with rifles and after i left in about half an hour we heard that a bunch of people were shot. I remember we protesting because they shot up a school in the westbank and killed 13 kids. We were also rekindling a protest from a few years back where a judge was shot through the Jordanian-Palestinian border.

On the other hand, my grandfather from my dads side lived the first few years of his life in Palestine and he would tell us stories all the time and show us whatever picture he brought with him. My family was the owner of 2 Orange farms and quite a few acres of Olive trees. My grandfather showed me pictures of our house before it was stolen by the Jews. It was a literal mansion with 4 floors. My grandfather had ALOT of siblings and they lived in that house. He told me the first floor was for the guests, there was a kitchen, living room and a few bedrooms and of course an overly fancy Salon (if you’re arab yknow about the guest Salon no-one ever goes into and the little coffee cups we use once a year). On the second floor was the girls floor. All of mt grandfathers sisters had their rooms on this floor and they would bring all of their close friends over to sit in this floor. The 3rd one was the boys floor where my grandfathers and his brothers stayed. I remember he told me when my great grandfather (his dad) would take him out in the middle of the night after my grandfather had a fight with his mom. Hed take him to the backyard and talk to him about how a woman should be treated and he needs to treat women especially his mother and sisters right. Thats why my grandfather has always been a gentleman. Finally the last floor was for my great grandfather and my great grandmother and after a certain age the kids weren’t allowed on this floor unless it was an emergency. (This is in Nablus btw)

My other grandfather was born in lebanon (hes younger than my dads father) his father lived his whole life in palestine and he also owned an orange farm and i think if im not wrong he built quite a few school in Yafa (where he lived). I havent heard much about him because hes a sensitive topic for my grandfather but all i know is when my great grandmother would talk about him shed tear up and start praying for us to marry a man as kind as him. She told us how he would come home from work with bags filled with money and the first thing he would do is hug his children and take then to the supermarket. (These are my grandfathers older siblings) when israhell took over palestine, the kicked my great grandfather and grandmother out if the house, burned his orange farm and took his house. The house still exists and is currently inhabited by Jews and i really really want to visit it. I really hope i can live in those houses one day.

[jungle-angel]

Butt of the Joke (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: No one knows why, but the Floyd men apparently are attracted to the full moon

Tagging: @nobody7102 @notyoursbutlewis @rhettabbotts @sebsxphia​ @bradshawsbaby​

You weren’t expecting to come out to Cheyenne Falls so soon, but the minute you knew Joe had to have knee surgery, you and Bob were there with no questions asked. 

The flight into Oklahoma City had been rough, you being almost six months pregnant and needing to pee every ten minutes was unpleasant enough and the four hour long flight feeling more like fourteen hours. 

Yet you were here and with Bob’s family. 

Irene and Marty, his mother and grandmother had been amazing, meeting the two of you at the airport and hurrying to get the two of you back home before the rush hour traffic hit. Joe had been home for three days and unable to do jack shit around the house while Bob’s grandfather had shouldered most of the work along with Bob’s older brothers. 

“You ok Ma?” Bob asked one night. 

“I’m trying to rope your brothers into helping me and they’re being complete shitheads,” Irene chuckled. “Maybe I’ll leave’em to Meemaw and she’ll straighten them out.” 

“No luck Irene,” Marty said as she came in from the porch. “I already used half of my best threats and they still ain’t listening.” 

You and Bob knew it was bad when Marty had used all the threats she could, even ones that would have had the old salts running for cover. “I can help with dinner Momma,” Bob said. “It’s all good.” 

“You mind if I go up and visit with your dad?” you asked. 

“You sure you can get up the stairs?” 

“Bob, I’m pregnant, I’m not made of glass,” you half laughed. 

You waddled your way up the stairs, your baby boy kicking up a storm from within. “Ok, ok,” you said, holding your hand over your belly. “I know you’re uncomfortable too, but that still doesn’t give you the right to jump on my spleen.” 

You made your way to the room at the end of the hall where Joe was propped up in bed, his leg elevated from beneath by one of the pillows and his arms crossed with boredom. “Hey (y/n), whatcha doin up here?” he asked, seeing you poke your head in through the door. 

“I waddled my way up,” you chuckled. “Baby boy wouldn’t stop jumping on my spleen the whole way up.” 

“Yeah Bobby did that to Irene,” Joe replied. “So didn’t Michael, Sean, Liam and the rest of the shitheads.” 

You laughed a little as you sat next to Joe, trying to get comfortable. “You doing ok?” you asked him. 

“Yeah just bored,” he said with a shrug. “I can’t do shit except read, watch movies or use the can and my poor father’s gotta take up most of the work.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” 

“Nah you’re good,” Joe answered. “Your company’s enough. Besides, I meant to go through an old box of photos Irene brought down from the attic the other day. That pot brownie I ate an hour ago should be kicking in to get rid of the pain.” 

“Here, let me get’em,” you said. 

“No need hon, it’s right here,” Joe told you, leaning halfway over his side of the bed before coming back up with the box. 

You and Joe must’ve spent hours and hours going through that box full of photos, some of them absolutely hysterical, especially ones of Bob and his brothers and sisters. 

“Yeah this one was of me and Irene at an Allman Brothers concert back when we were dating,” Joe explained. “That was the night I smoked a whole dimebag of weed and confessed my feelings to her in the portables.” 

“Aw that’s so sweet,” you said. 

“Yeah it was sweet until I started bawling like a little bitch,” Joe laughed. 

You and him kept going through the photos, totally oblivious to the footsteps approaching from down the halls. Bob poked his head in a minute later with a plate full of pot roast and mashed potatoes that Irene had slow cooked all day in the oven. 

“Dad you doin ok in here?” Bob enquired. 

“Oh yeah, yeah, we’re doin pretty good,” Joe said happily. “That your Ma’s pot roast?” 

“The very one,” Bob said, setting it on the bedside table. “What are you guys doing? I heard (y/n) laughing from downstairs.” 

“Oh I was just showing her that cute photo of you as a baby running naked through the backyard sprinkler,” Joe chuckled, holding up the photo. 

You watched as your husband suddenly turned bright red at the photo Joe held up, the one of a tiny, one year old Bob running completely naked through the backyard sprinkler on a sunny summer day. The embarrassed squeak that escaped Bob’s throat threw you once again into a laughing fit. 

“Dad you said you wouldn’t show those!” Bob blurted out. 

“Aaaaw look at you Bobby,” you cooed. “You and your cute little butt running through the grass!! Oh I hope the baby looks just like you.” 

Bob playfully gave his father a few open handed whacks on the shoulders and one on the back of the head, the older Floyd turning red in the face from how hard he was laughing. 

“You swore you weren’t gonna show those you son of a bitch!” Bob exclaimed, shouting and laughing all at once.

“Hey! Your grandmother took those photos not me.” 

Bob and Joe bickered back and forth while you laughed and listened, the baby boy once again kicking in your belly as you thought about how much your son was going to look like your husband. 

************************

Days like this were becoming more routine as they passed by, you laying on your back in the doctor’s office, completely numb to the coldness of the gel on your belly as she showed you the images of your unborn son and Bob holding your hand. 

“Baby boy’s in excellent shape,” she commented. “Heart’s beating perfectly, his little legs and arms are moving without any issue......oh wait a second....” 

You and Bob suddenly looked up at the screen, suddenly struck with a nervousness that threatened to petrify the both of you. “What?” you asked. “What is it?” 

“I’ve never seen them do that before.” 

You and Bob took a closer look when you saw it for yourselves. The two of you started laughing hysterically when you were hit with the sudden realization of what it was. 

“Is he....?” 

“Oh my God,” Bob laughed. “The little devil’s mooning us.” 

The two of you could hardly control your laughter. What was it with the Floyd men and showing their asses to the world? One of life’s great mysteries.....that was what it was.

“I’m gonna be hanging this over his head when he brings his first girlfriend home,” Bob laughed. 

“You hear that little man?” you said, poking your belly a little. “Daddy and I have dirt on you already.” 

You felt the baby kicking inside you once again. You and Bob couldn’t wait for that moment when you’d finally get to embarrass him in your own right, even if it was eighteen years down the road. 

[hathorneheiress]

A very Hawthorne Thanksgiving.

Avery's POV

It had been almost two years since I had joined the Hawthorne household, and in those two years, we had celebrated Thanksgiving. At least not the proper way.

Before my mom had died, we tried to do something special on that day. Since we didn't have much money, a homemade lasagna and garlic bread was usually what our Thanksgiving consisted of. I never complained and one year Libby was able to join us. Instead of pie, we feasted on tons of chocolate cupcakes.

It was the best Thanksgiving I remembered.

When I had told the boys about it, they all agreed that we needed to do a large Thanksgiving. Hawthorne style.

I apricated that they didn't want to rerun the good memory I had shared with my mom. But I was ready for new ones. With people that I had grown to love. That had become a family to me. A family I had never had.

To be honest, I was excited. And maybe a little nervous. From what I knew of the Hawthornes, nothing was done small.

Weeks of preparation and planning went in before the big day. I watched in awe as the house transformed into fall pardise.

Leave garland gracefully adorned every stair railing and wild flowers in massive vases prouded every table top.

A few days before the big day, I could start to smell the sweet fragrance of many pies and turkeys.

All the boys were very excited for Thanksgiving. It had been since their grandfather had died, that they had had a Hawthorne Thanksgiving.

Surprisingly, everyone pitched in. It wasn't just the servants.

Xander and Jameson helped make the pies and stuffing. Nash surprised us by coming home with a fat turkey slung over his shoulders. Shot and plunked it himself.

I was impressed.

Libby was in her own little world with baking tons of Thanksgiving themed cupcakes.

And Grayson and I over seed everything.

Even though I was master of the house, Grayson knew what needed to be done. And I was slightly shocked at how excited he seemed to be as well.

I heard from Jameson he was int he kitchen every two hours checking up on things. Jameson laughed as he retold the story of how Mrs. Laughlin threatened to kick and lock Grayson out of the kitchen if he didn't stop annoying her.

"What did Grayson say?" I asked after a chuckle.

"Oh, he just stood there and calmly reminded her that he can picks locks just fine!" Jameson light green eyes twinkled in merriment.

I laughed . "Sounds about right."

The day before Thanksgiving the massive dining room table was decked out in all it's glory.

Elegant white lace tablecloths and crystal glasses. Delicate china and linen napkins. The silverware was polished and shined. Jameson and Grayson went down into the wine cellar and brought up the best wine we had.

20 pies sat in a massive refrigerator ready to be devoured the next day. Four turkeys, with Nash's as well, was all cooked. Stuffed with the best stuffing around. All the side dishes were completed and many other drinks were waiting to be drank as well.

I was told that there was going to be a surprise for me, but I couldn't guess what it was.

As I lay in bed that night, with Jameson beside me, I thought of everything I was thankful for.

My mom and everything she had taught me. Libby with her sweet spirit and taking me in when my mom died. For inheriting all that money. But not for selfish reasons. If I hadn't inherited, I would have never met all the wonderful people I now knew.

Oren. Alisa, the Laughlin. Thea, Rebecca, Zara, Nan, and most importantly, the boys.

Xander, with his joyfully personality and my forever BHFF. (Best Hawthorne Friend Forever) Nash; for being an older brother figure to me, and being the best person Libby could ever have. Grayson; Sworn enemies when I first arrived, we are now the closest comrades and he has been my right hand man in everything. And Jameson; the boy I met drunk when I first arrived, and somehow fell in love with. He makes me laugh and I couldn't imagine my life without him.

All the people I had mentioned would be there for tomorrow, plus a few more. Zara's husband would be there. Max was already here from collage. Jameson's uncle had been invited and we were delighted to hear he was coming. Xander's dad would be there and even Grayson's half sisters were coming.

It was going to be a very big, but hopefully, a wonderful Thanksgiving.

I awoke to sunlight streaming in and Jameson staring down at me.

"Happy Thanksgiving Heiress." he murmured softly, giving me a kiss on the lips.

I savored it. "Happy Thanksgiving too."

The festivities started around 11 with apple cider and appetizers.

I dressed for the occasion in a brown pleated skirt, flowered blouse, heels, and a 5 thousand dollar pearl necklace.

At one we made it to the massive dining room. Taking our seats, we sat down.

Nash did the honors of giving thanks and then cutting open his prized bird.

Plates were piled high and we all enjoyed a massive feast.

I listened to the laughter that echoed throughout the room. Everyone I loved was here. Everyone was happy and smiling.

It was perfect.

"Xander, you want to get Heiress our surprise." Jameson said.

Xander scurred to the other room. I had totally forgotten about it.

He came back with a steaming casserole dish of Lasanya. Max followed with the garlic bread.

I watched in shock as they placed it beside me.

"I know your mom isn't here, but we wanted to make it extra special for you." Jameson said.

I could feel the unwanted tears forming in my eyes. It was the gesture more then anything, that mattered. The fact that they had taken the time to make something my mom and I had done together, made me feel appicaited.

"Thank you so much." I chocked out. "I love it. Though fare warning, I have eaten so much I don't think I'll be able to eat this till tomorrow."

Ripples of laughter filled the air and we continued with our meal.

We finished the day with pie that could have been made from Heaven and singing some hymns.

As people began to disappear for the night, I leaned my head against Jameson's body.

"Did you have a good Thanksgiving?" He asked.

"I looked up into his gorgeous face. "It was the best I have ever had."

He smiled. "Good."

We kissed like there was no tomorrow and then retired to bed.

I fell asleep quickly. Before I went into nothing land, I gave another Thanks to God for everyone and everything in my life.

I couldn't have been happier.

[carrickbender]

Friday fi...ve(or whatever)

- had a job interview yesterday with a company that had the nicest warehouse I've ever seen. Not that I don't think we aren't going back, but I needed an interview to remind me how to do it. Plus, it wouldn't be a bad job...

- school is kicking my ass. Another trip to Cle Elum next week, and this time it will be full of tape measures, sketch pads, and stop watches. FIN 370's first exam wasn't easy, but I passed, and sometimes that's all you can say.

- today's chores include folding and finishing a load of laundry, going to the store, picking up the heads of a set of golf clubs that i dropped off right around fathers day(!!!!) To be reshafted(and nothing!!!!), and researching a therapist.

Speaking of which, here's the thing: I'm sure I overthink stuff, I get that. But like I've said before(sorry to be a repeater): I don't do self-talk well... like at all. So, for example, telling me to say the words I'm saying in my head to myself in a funny voice is ridiculous and not a helpful method of dealing with 'intrusive thoughts'. And suggesting, "well, would you say those things to your best friend" is just as ridiculous: my best friend is a conventionally attractive, intelligent guy who can pretty much do whatever he seems to want to do and effortlessly. I feel like I'm just being realistic, and I think I'm just trying to find the tools with which to deal with being who I am. The idea of mantras, rituals, and taking time for me is beyond unrealistic (I'm seriously glad for all yall who make it work, and you deserve all of the things and happiness it brings you- i judge not!). It's just not for me because theres no point in seeking some serenity for something thats not me, especially when all i want is a toolbox to deal with being a 'less than'- if that makes sense. So yeah... enough of my BS.

- So my mom and I had a great conversation on the way home from the airport a bit ago, and she made the offer that if we have to move due to me finding a job out of the area she would like to move into our house and pay the mortgage. To say that makes me happy is an understatement... Then yesterday, my dad and I were talking while Henry & I were headed to Oly, and he want to pay for our airfare and hotel to go to my brother Rick's wedding. To say it was unexpected was putting it mildly, but apparently my grandmother didn't give everything away to charity(a fact which made me proud that she would have, to be honest), and my dad and stepmom wanted to do 'stuff' for all of us boys... not to mention the fact that my stepmom is buying a headstone for her grandfather, something her dad never had the extra money to do. Honestly makes me tear up thinking about it...

- Anyhow, if you've made it this far, I applaud you. I just want to reiterate something I say often- I follow some pretty awesome and dynamic people, and watching y'all change the world is pretty awesome. Much love, and as a bonus: I got to speak cat today to this magnificent creature. I told him he was great, and un chat marveleuse et magnificent aussi! To which he seemed to reply, "B'eh oui, absolutament!!!"

Much love yall!!!

[ambalambs]

Okay another question! Tell me a little bit about each member of Miko's adopted family and his relationships with each of them please! <3

Okie dokie! Gonna toss this one under a cut too in case I get carried away again lol also kinda nervous to share info on basically npcs ive made for my oc but we're gonna choose to ignore the cringe in this house!

Okay so first since ive already talked a bit about her before is miko's adopted mom. Her name is Fiona u3u she's the rock of the household obviously. She keeps the kids and even her husband in line but she is so so compassionate. Her grandfather was an instrument maker and he'd play them too so she was raised around music which miko was very fortunate to stumble on a family that had that kind of background (perhaps there were some higher power at play there that guided him to this specific family. We may never know lol) she and miko get along sooo well he adores his mom. She's had to drag him around by the ear a few times tho while he was growing up lol but she has always been very good at reading him which when it comes to miko who is master at hiding his pain, she was always the first one to be like nuh uh come talk to me lol

Next is his dad, Brynstan. Miko's mom always lovingly calls him Bryn for short. Miko's dad is a good and simple guy. He's just a farmer lol he'd much rather not think about what's going on in the rest of the crazy world and only focus on his crops and chocobo and family. It took him a bit to really figure out how to be with miko when he was a kid. Like he came to love him a lot and seeing him as his own son but there were a lot of "what am I even doing" moments for him. But miko was always the biggest help to him around the farm and never complained and always found silly ways to make him smile. Their relationship is good of course but there's like this shadow over them I think that they both have always felt that for miko its like "You're my dad and I love you but you aren't the dad that I was supposed to need" if that makes sense? Considering the situation of Miko's real dad was always left as a mystery. But still his adopted dad is a really good guy who only ever did his very best by him ;u;

Now for his siblings lol his little brother's name is Dustan and oh boy are he and miko a pair. They would constantly tease and pester each other. Dustan would always get a kick out of pulling miko's tail or blowing on his ears to make them flick and just drive miko insane lol they never got into any serious fights tho it was just lots of brother teasing. Dustan was just a toddler when miko joined the family and was the one who actually coined the name miko for him. His little kid talk would try to say miqote but itd just come out as miko and so he'd just pitter patter around the house after miko repeating mikomikomiko over and over until it just became a thing lol miko just kinda accepted it since it seemed well enough to have a new name for a new life. But now that his brother is older they still tease each other but just not as much. Deep down dunstan kinda has a bit of nervousness around him since his big brother is now some big crazy super hero wol out there killing gods. Probably wouldn't be wise to pull the tail of a guy with that kind of power anymore, which miko notices that a bit in him but he tries to not let it bother him and tries to act like things are the same as they always were between them.

And lastly he has a little sister named Bayla. She was born not long after miko was taken in so miko has been there a part of her life since day one. And oh gosh she is just precious. Definitely has her mom's temperament but she is super gentle and has a bit of an adventurer's heart in finding wonder in everything she encounters in the world. She definitely looks up to miko a lot and she'd follow him around like a little duckling when they were kids. And miko was so good with her, he would braid her hair and put flowers in it, he'd let her follow him out on his little ventures in the woods and teach her all the things he learned from his miqo'te tribe and teach her songs and just all sorts of things. They were bestest buddies and she definitely took it the hardest in the family when he decided to leave and explore the world. Every time they get a letter from miko tho she's the first to rush into the house and excitedly beg their mom to read it outloud to the family lol him being the wol is the coolest thing to her, except the moments when she hears the stories of the really awful things he's had to fight from people in town spouting his legends. Its hard for her to know if its true or not when miko doesn't include some of those tales in his letters. She won't admit it tho but she is a teensy bit jealous of the twins cuz they get to adventure with her brother and why can't she gosh darnnit! She has half a mind to join the adventurers guild herself so she can go with him but her mom keeps trying to stop her lol she's still too young for that. But anyway I've rambled off about her a lot more than the others oops but yeah she and miko are super close and he misses and thinks about her a lot ;u;

Also just as an aside miko and his siblings would sometimes hang out in his room way past their bedtime and play triple triad. Theyd get scolded every time they got caught xD

But yeah thats the family! I hope that was kinda the info you were looking for. Its probably not terribly exciting since they're honestly just a very simple family living in a quiet spot out in gridania territory. For miko when he comes home after some of his adventures its always kinda jarring for him cuz its almost like time stands still there for him, not much changes except his siblings getting older. Miko does worry a lot tho that any enemies he's made out there will find out about them and come back and hurt them to get to him so he does try to keep as little information about them as possible from reaching the public eye.

[kittenadette]

Jotaro X female reader x Josuke ~Let the voice of love take you higher Chapter 11 Nijimura brothers Part 1

A few days went by with not much to tell apart from getting to know Koichi and attending School. Josuke got some days off after his grandfather died. It is currently the end of the school day and Josuke attended today. "Josuke if you need to cry let it out, please don't bottle it up" I voiced showing my concern for him. I see his shoulder start to shake, tears forming so i pull him into a hug and he let's it out.

We ended up sitting down on the floor while we were hugging. He pulls away "Thanks, how do you and Jotaro know each other, he told me that you and he met before Koichi and I did?" Josuke inquires

"I was playing a game in my game room when i heard a noise coming from my living room, it turned out to be Jotaro. Several days went by which consisted of Jotaro and I getting to know one another. He told me about what stands are and how he arrived into my world. A stand user had sent him into that world.

"Not from this world! the long version we have time" Josuke states

"I was playing a game in my game room when i heard a noise coming from my living room, it turned out to be Jotaro. Several days went by consisting of Jotaro and I getting to know one another. He explained what stands are and how he entered my world which was that a stand user had sent him into my world." I start

"that's one way to meet someone" Josuke commented

"yeah it is, days went on like that with Jotaro trying to figure out if the stand user was in my world with him or in this world. One day i went out to get supplies with Jotaro coming along as we had no idea how if this stand user would show up or not. We got as far as a bus stop when the stand user showed up. They started to fight and all of a sudden Jotaro and I are in a black void. Then suddenly a being who called himself a god appeared and de-aged me to 16 so i would be better adapted to this world, made red my natural hair colour and then the black void dissipated and i found myself in this world" I explain

"I'm sure that must have been scary for you even though you know about stands but can't see them. I'm glad you got here safely" Josuke shared we spend time getting to know one another as we walk to the entrance to the school to actually leave. We chat as we leave school I look around when we get near to Josuke's house feeling like someone was watching us from a distance "something wrong?" Josuke asks

"All of a sudden I feel like we are being watched from somewhere" I start looking around where am i getting this feeling the strongest? I move my head in the direction of a window ah so that is where this feeling is strongest "from this direction is where the feeling is strong" I comment

"This place has been abandoned for a few years, I doubt anyone would buy this eyesore" Josuke comments

"Yet it is where this feeling is coming from and it's getting stronger" I share and we continue walking

"I live just next door I would have noticed if someone moved in" Josuke stated as we started moving my ring fell off so I stop and bend over to pick it up just as I pick it up in my hands someone kicked the gate to the point that it traps my head in place I let out a chocking groan

"try keeping your nose out of other people's business" the guy snarled

"my ring fell off I was just picking it up I would of been out of your hair in a few seconds had you not done this" I utter between the pain of being chocked

"Kristie! No!" Josuke cried "what the hell do you think you're doing?" Josuke growled

"what i should be the one asking you that question you and your friend are on my property" the one chocking me retorted

"have you completely lost your fricking mind let her go!" Josuke snarled

"let me make something real clear my pap bought this house which means I'm not going to let you sneak around here you get what I'm saying" he imparted

"I wasn't going to sneak around I was just picking up my nan's ring that fell to the floor, I didn't do that purposefully" I snarl ignoring the pain

"I think you are the one not getting it I'm telling you to let go of my friend punk you really don't want to tick me off" Josuke informed

"hey it's not nice to call people names especially if the person your insulting just happens they own the property you are trespassing on geez don't you know how to be polite" he quipped

"I know that I'm going to smash your face in if you don't shut your god dam mouth" Josuke hissed all of a sudden a arrow comes flying out of nowhere and everything goes dark.

[damonjuicyscock]

Playlist-Chapter 1 (90s Noel Gallagher X Reader)

Pairing: 70s Noel Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: nothing really, maybe just a bit language and maybe a few spelling mistakes

Words: 1111

Summary: This is the beginning. How everything started for Y/N and Noel. How they met, how they were at 5 and 10 years old.

A/N: Heya everyone, here it is, the first chapter of the fan fic you've all been waiting for ! This is a short chapter, it's only a beginning and corresponds to Y/N and Noel's childhood. Chapter 2 out next week ! Enjoy !

(He was so cute back then OMG)

“Television man is crazy Saying we're juvenile delinquent wrecks Oh, man, I need TV when I got T-Rex Oh, brother, you've guessed, I'm a dude, dad

All the young dudes (hey, dudes!) Carry the news (where are you?) Boogaloo dudes (stand up, come on!) Carry the news

All the young dudes (I want to hear you!) Carry the news (I want to see you!) Boogaloo dudes (and I want to talk to you! All of you!) Carry the news

Now Lucy looks sweet 'cause he dresses like a queen But he can kick like a mule, it's a real mean team But we can love Oh yes, we can love

And my brother's back at home with his Beatles and his Stones We never got it off on that revolution stuff What a drag Too many snags”

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

How and when do you know when you’ve met your soulmate? The love of your life? When you’re 5? 15? 25?

When you’re 5, you’re a princess who believes she has a prince out there. You get kisses on the cheeks by a little boy who likes you.

At 15, you’re an outsider, believing love might come one day, but you’re too busy to care about that and instead, you spend your time worrying about your best friend who’s being beaten up by his father.

At 25, you think you found love but you’re wrong. Your boyfriend is violent, beats you, almost kills you, and you never forgot about your first love, your soulmate, who decides to come back in your life.

That’s my story. Mine and my soulmate’s. Mine and Noel’s.

And everything has a beginning.

I was born in 1967 in London, but I lived in New York, Los Angeles, and Sydney, which I don’t remember because I was too little to care. When I was 5, we moved to Manchester. My grandfather had just died, and my uncle needed help with my grandpa’s company.

That’s when I was put in the same school and class as a cute little boy called Noel Gallagher.

He was often alone and didn’t talk much. And when he talked, he was mocked by others because he stammered. On my side, I also was mocked because I was the new one in school.

What didn’t help Noel and I didn’t know yet, was that he was beaten up by father and the arrival of his newly born brother William also known as Liam. I didn’t discover it until 5 years later.

Approximatively a week after my arrival, I decided Noel would become my friend.

During recess, I decided to sit next to him on the bench. He looked at me with an interrogative look, saying nothing.

1972:

Hi Noel! I said to start the conversation

Huh h-h-hello Y/N.

What are you doing?

Just looking at t-t-the others.

You’re always alone.

Ye too!

We could be buddies!

W-W-Why do ye want to be m-me buddy?

I mean… just like that.

The little boy thought in silence for a few minutes, which I thought meant a “no”.

And when the bell rang, while I was almost crying because I had no buddy, the young boy stood up and handed me his hand.

Yer coming buddy? He asked

I was stunned. It finally was a yes in the end. I stood up and gave him my hand, a big smile on my face.

Noel discretely asked our teacher if he could come and sit next to me. She smiled and kindly approved. She had been worried about Noel being and staying all alone before I asked him to be my friend. Did I do well and right? Fuck yes.

At the end of the afternoon, hand in hand, we walked home together.

Would you believe me if I told you we were neighbours, our houses next to each other’s without knowing it yet?

Well, it was the case.

Yer leaving t-there? He asked, surprised

Yes, why?

This is my house just next to y-yers!

We are neighbours? I asked

Yes we are! He answered

This is so cool! Come play with me!

To w-what? Dolls?

No, ball!

Got t-t-to ask me mam first!

Go, I’ll be asking mine and I’ll wait you here!

Noel’s mum, Peggy, agreed, we played football together until 7pm before she came to pick him with baby Liam in her arms. What I wasn’t waiting for was for my mum and Peggy to become the best of friends.

*

1977:

Noel and I were now 10 years old, and he just had joined the neighbourhood football team. Not being interested in another sport, I wanted to join the team as well.

One day, after school, Noel took me to his training so I could meet the coach. What I didn’t plan was his and the other children’s reaction. They laughed at me, which made me angry.

Noel, the lassies don’t play football! The coach laughed

And why so? I answered, with my fists balled up

Because ye can’t play football, it’s a dude sport!

Oh you bet? Noel, we’ll show him.

I took the ball the coach was holding, and Noel and I we started playing. The coach still wasn’t impressed.

Okay, ye can play with yer buddies, but what about a whole team lassie?

Try me!

As ye wish.

The coach blew his whistle, and the other kids places themselves on the football pitch. I also placed myself while Noel took his jacket off, and that was the first time I saw theses. The bruises. But I didn’t ask any question, maybe he fell during training.  The coach whistled again.

The boys passed the ball back and forth between them, pretending I wasn’t there, but I made up for it by catching the ball in my turn, and scored a goal.

This time, I convinced everyone. They all stopped moving and talking. Noel, him, was smiling.

I approached the coach, proud.

And now? You’re convinced?

Aye. Welcome to our team.

I smiled.

By the way, my name is Y/N, not Lassie.

I’ll make sure to remember it kid.

So, when are the days of training and what do I have to buy?

Yes, when I was a child, I was sassy. It got worse when I was a teen, but I calmed down when becoming an adult.

Besides being my neighbour, Noel was also my best friend. And oh, as we got older, I was more and more worried about him…

[vulpixen]

Fears to Face

Summary: Stan faced many fears over the course of his life, and he was able to conquer them thanks to those who believe in him.

A/N:  Hey all, hope you enjoy this new entry for @stanuary! Set in the Lost and Gained AU where Stan is a husband, father, and later grandfather. Conor and Hannah Pereira are Andrea's late parents who played an instrumental part in Stan's life when they gave him a place to stay after he was kicked out of the house by Filbrick. Can also find the new chap here.

Stan always put on a brave, confident face when it came to the obstacles he faced in his life. Whether it be against bullies or eating something he knows has bits of hair or dirt in it. Stan isn’t afraid of most things, from how he puts on a facade, but under that cheeky grin is fear. Fear of never being good enough. Fear of never meeting the impossible expectations that were placed onto him by his father. Fear of his father. Fear of heights. Fear of losing the strong bond with his twin brother Ford. Fear of being seen as weak and useless. They all plague his mind and thoughts.

When Stan held his newborn twin infants Jessie and James, a new fear rose. Failing them as a father. He was just an older teen on the cusp of graduating high school with his girlfriend/mother of his children Andrea Pereira, and his twin brother who had since stopped speaking to him. It took time to be attentive to the babies and learn each of their needs, but thanks to the help from Andrea’s parents, Conor and Hannah, they were there to assist him and Andrea with whatever they needed.

Stan always looked up to Conor as the father figured he needed in his life, provided with a place to escape from his judgemental father and given the freedom to talk about what was bothering him. Hannah was a kind, warm woman who doesn’t seem to have a bad bone in her body and taught Stan a thing or two about cooking, where Andrea got much of her appearance from, too. He was thankful they live just down the street from him and his family’s shop and home. It gave him the courage to be more open about his true feelings about what bothers him, especially with what he fears.

One day, while tending to Jessie, Stan faced Conor as he was helping with James, a question came to mind.

“Dad, do you have fears?” The older man with black hair and wise gray eyes turned his head at Stan to give a slow nod as he picked up James. Conor had gotten used to Stan calling him that out of endearment. Stan considered him as more of a dad to him than his own at this point.

“I do, son. I fear a lot of things, but I know they’re out of my control. Well, most of them.” Conor gives little James a warm bottle of formula for him to drink while he keeps talking. “For years, I feared for the future of my family ever since coming here from Ireland. I feared for your future and your brother’s, too. But those fears faded as I see you, Andrea, and your children will be alright. Me and Hannah will do what we can to ensure that.” He reached to gently touch Stan’s shoulder. “You’re doing great.” Stan felt reassured and something he always wanted to hear from his birth dad, but never will. At least he has this dad to look up to. Stan knew his own kids would be looking up to him, too.

“Leroy, don’t eat that!” Stan rushed over to his four-year old son from putting a spider in his mouth. “Spiders aren’t for eating, son.”

“Why?”

“They’re full of venom and can kill you if it bites you,” Stan explained while he put the spider back in the tree above them.

“Oh… Okay!” Leroy beamed, seeming to be satisfied with the answer.

Stan’s new fear was something horrible happened to them. Leroy had his mother’s auburn hair, but kept the gray kind eyes he inherited from his grandfather Conor. Everytime Stan looked at him, he could tell Leroy would become a good man like his grandpa. It also reminded Stan to check up on him, too.

Ever since Conor’s wife and Andrea’s mother passed, Stan and Andrea kept a close eye on him and even offered him to stay with them in their home in Florida, but he declined as he wanted to give them space. Stan feared of not hearing from him one day and finding out too late of what happened, so he reassured Conor he wouldn’t be a burden on them, and convinced him to live with them. Stan returned a favor to his father-in-law like how he needed help the most when alone.

Stan feared he’ll never get his twin brother back from the other side of the Portal, along with the woman he called his friend Lucina. Andrea was greatly distraught over what happened to her best friend and sister-in-law and brother-in-law herself, while the kids have no clue what’s going on and are upset. He feared his nephews may never see two of three parents again. He feared he may never get the Portal to work like it did when it turned on and took his brother when he got too close. He feared what’s going to happen to him and his family after this. He had to keep things together and get through this as a family.

Against it all, Stan pushed through it all stronger, thanks to those believing in him.

[harmcityherald]

I need to get personal for a minute because inside I am a turmoil of hurt and I'm going to tell you why. My artemesia, I love her so much it has been to a fault with me. Artemesia is very aware of my troubles with androgyny And transgenderism. She lived through part of that with me, or without me because I left at that time. I returned to the manor And set myself up an apartment in the attic above my mother Who was still alive at the time. I can go through and explain what all that entailed and everything that went along with it But I won't waste your time right now because I'm going to be writing numerous chapters in my book about that subject.

I have always liked cruel women. I don't know if that is something that is an art type for my mother and my grandmother My mother was not a authoritarian, In fact my mother was a hippie And a psychic She wasn't a manipulator. She was a philosopher. I am very thankful for it And I count myself lucky To have grown up With such a wonderful spiritual electrifying interesting person. My grandmother on the other hand, Steel stands As the worst manipulator I have ever encountered in my entire life. My grandmother doubted over my brother and ignored me. I was my grandfather's boy. And she hated my grandfather Which was evident in everything that she did and everything that she said. One time, She told my then 10 year-old Bloodborne son To go outside while the old man was mowing the grass And to kick him in his shins. This is because he corrected My son For trying to start a fire in the house Closet... And that little motherfucker went out there and did it. Just like my brother my grandmother had groomed him To be her boy. She bought him anything he wanted. She bought him a dodge ram truck That within 6 months he totaled. Once I told her That if That boy murdered someone She would help him bury the body Between the garages. She would not answer that question. Which told me every thing I Which told me every thing I needed to know , But it wasn't something that I didn't know already myself. My grandfather laid hands on me The number of times I can count on my one hand. Once when he caught me smoking He came over to the corner and in front of all of my friends he smacked me upside the head. At the time I did not like that, But over the years I've come to see That of course the old man was right. Another time I showed him Some serious disrespect of the dinner table. He shoved me through a glass door On that one. In retrospect , The absolute heal that I was being I certainly deserved what I got. My grandmother on the other hand would revel in physical violence. Do you guys remember those hot wheel tracks Use the stick them together with a little connector but the tracks were about 3' long made of rubber They would make the wishing air sound when you Flick them through the air. Well, That was my grandmother's weapon of choice But only for me. My brother Never Ever Not even not even 1 time Got spanked or Corrected the way that I was. I was her whipping boy. She took out her hatred of my grandfather on me.

When I was 8 years old my father disappeared. They had been separated for a little while and we had been going over to his house And I remember very fondly playing In his music room With his drums and piano And actually an electric xylophone.1 time my Father Took my hands in his, I had to be about 6 years old By the time I was 7 and 8 he had disappeared off the face of the earth, He took my hands in his and looked them over And said to me Nope , You won't be a musician. Your fingers are not the right shape. Maybe a bass player Is all you'll ever be. Recently my brother tried to refute this story Telling me , In his gaslighting fashion, That my mother had made-up the whole thing. Of course he didn't bank on my memory. I was there You square shaped dildo. I remember my father's face plain as day. He was a narcissist then , And even after transgender surgery She was a narcissist then. Well, You don't have a father like mine and not questioning your own sexuality. I spent a lot of time overcompensating If there was a Cave I had to go in it , If there was a dangerous endeavor I was the man for the job. I did everything alpha male And I was vehemently anti Transgender. This is at the time Donahue Who's running a series of specials on this new trend Of transgenderism. My father Was the 1st successful transgender operation performed at johns Hopkins university In 1973. This last time that I was in the hospital ,, And they wanted to send the white coats to take me away I sent a message To the CEO of hopkins. 1st of all stating that I was not a liability and that I did not wanna sue John Hopkins I just wanted to be able to get my cancer treatment and not be attacked By Nazis in the middle of the nightAnd if you lock me in a straight jacket And drag me into a basement room somewhere with a padded cell You are going to pay for every penny Toward my treatment Because you Mother's made me Right over there in that building In 1973.

As I grew older I mellowed out quite considerably. It also helped me greatly, because I had developed a fascination for trans women. Not so much their ethereal sexiness Like more A fascination with the strength that it must take To go through what they have gone through and to come out the other side. Although I did not transition, I learned a lot of things Going through that. Add that time I had left artemesia and took the room here above my mother. That separation lasted almost two years. My mother said she had never seen me happier than when I Would get all gussied up to go out on the town. Thank whatever power you believe in That I came home To the manor At that time Because it wasn't long after my mother passed away. I thank god that I got to spend Those last Couple of years with her. If I hadn't been pursuing This little demon that was living inside me I would have missed out on that. My grandmother ignored me. Unless of course it was payday. Her and her sister used to make fun of me and say that I look like Richard Simmons. They thought that was the funniest thing in the world.

I could tell you how she poisoned the cats in the neighborhood by collecting peach pits and crushing them up and putting them into cat food Which she would place in bowls strategicly about the yard. I had the habit Of getting rid of them. But, as always, That guy got me the racetrack. Those things left whip marks. She ruined hot wheels for me because after that I didn't wanna see a hotwheels I didn't wanna see any hot wheels car or any hot wheels toy whatsoever after that. The witch would always without question Buy me a giant set of hot wheels at Christmas time. Full of those tracks. As if the same merry Christmas here's what I'm gonna beat you with over the course of course the As if to say marry Christmas here's what I'm gonna beat you with over the course of the year.

I make artemesia coffee in bed every day. Always a good morning how you feeling is there anything I can get you. Love you BB rise n shine its 3pm.

Today I did that. Like every day. I go back out to hose the rat droppings off the concrete. Water is on for five minutes when...

The door bursts open

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS YOU PLAY IN THE WATER MORE THAN HENRY!!"

Mind you, Henry is our non verbal 18yo grandson. Sooooo that's ....an ableist insult, using your own grandson as fodder. Its no surprise I'm the only one who can reach him. I'm the only human among them.

Door slams shut.

We love different artemesia.

We are not the same.

Cruel girls. How we love them.

I've been called every gay slur in the book. Every one.

[dsdatingdramas]

It’s in the name

Peter Pan, ah that’s a bit strange. That’s both my Step-dad, my Step Brother and my Grandfathers name. Maybe it’s a good thing? Oh well, we probably won’t have to work out how to add another Peter Pan into the mix.

After carefully writing down the directions to my house because his phone broke when he did “a really cool jump” that I “probably wouldn’t have been impressed by”, and following them intently, he arrived.

My first thoughts were wow you do not photograph well, lucky for me I was quickly drawn into peter pan’s profile by his beautiful eyes and cheeky grin.

Peter Pan hopped out the car and before I even said hi I had blurted out all about how I brought a second pair of shoes incase his idea of a walk at the beach and my idea of a walk at the beach were different. He laughed and looked down, he had only his socks on.

After we stood now on opposite sides of the car at our respective doors for what seemed like far too long I asked “are you not ready to hop back in the car?” Peter Pan smiled “sorry I’m just enjoying not sitting down” before he hopped back in the car, where oddly his seat was reclined all the way flat “is your car broken too?” He shared his displeasure for the leather seat to touch his back on a hot and sweaty day, I smiled at the thought of our shared hyper awareness for strange sensations.

We covered all of the basics as we drove to our destination, where do you live? What do you do for work? Any exciting plans for the rest of your Christmas break? Do you have any siblings? Although these all feel mundane on paper, we shared a sense of childlike energy that allowed for laughter and banter in the between spaces including “you are shorter in real life” followed by “thanks? You are hotter in real life” thankfully Peter Pan laughed “yeah I get that a lot”.

Shortly after, he looked at me glumly “oh no! What are you going to swim in” I nervously chuckled and finally gave up the act, I’m not a fan of the ocean. I like boats and being by the ocean but being inside the ocean was a high stress situation. Peter Pan laughed as he recalled the moment where he told me to go inside and get a towel, “you brought a towel to not seem like a weirdo?” He asked, I just laughed in return. I reassured him that I’d love to sit on the beach with a book whilst he went off to swim.

As we drove towards the beach, the weather wasn’t in our favour, the rain poured and showed no sign of stopping. “We can go somewhere else” Peter Pan assured, “I think I can see blue sky ahead” we agreed to continue and divert from there if required.

We arrived to sunshine and smiled as we got out the car and Peter Pan put on his shoes and we ventured all of three steps before the rain kicked in, he rushed me back to the car out of the rain and we laughed as we watched the other beach goes pack their belongings and hurry to their own cars. Eventually after some chatter the rain died down enough to brave a walk to the wharf, he joked about throwing me over board after our earlier incident with the towel. “One day I’ll get you out swimming with me” my mind trailed into thoughts of his hands on my waist as my hands through his hair as we float in the ocean. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. I pulled myself together and reported that “dates two and three would have to go really well to make that happen”. To which he replied “I thought we could go to the zoo!” FUCK YES. Finally the bio about going to the zoo worked! As if the smile that took over my face wasn’t enough I beamed “I’d really like that”.

As we continued to descend along the beach we found a tree to hide under as the rain got worse for the moment. I enjoyed the proximity forced by the rain. As we sat under the tree we found some sticks “want to play a game?” Peter Pan asked with joy written across his face. Loves a game! We saw who could throw them the furthest, the fastest, in a set spot, the highest and even who can land theirs the most upright. He showed me his sick sword fighting moves and told me not to be strange when I jokingly told him that they were so cool I’d just have to video them. Once that game was over (Peter pan threw his stick into a bush and we couldn’t retrieve it).

We headed over to the rock pools, I asked if he was an avid crab hunter. He smirked and said it would probably be in his top 500 favourite activities but probably not the top 100. Oddly enough I hate crabs so was rather disinterested when he was fantastic at his top 500 hobby and located 20+ crabs.

After walking around the bay through the rock pools we found yet another spot to shelter from the brief downpour of rain. Peter Pan then located his “magical prediction stick” and I was fortunate enough to be it’s subject of choice “win the lotto, move to London, go to the zoo, it only makes three predictions sorry!” He laughed as threw it away. I told him how privileged I felt to have been the subject of his prediction stick, he laughed “I didn’t even think to use it for myself”.

Not long after asking about my favourite colour Peter Pan suggested we walk back along the beach “not that I’m ready to go!” He reassured. I smiled “me neither”. He asked after my grandfather who was unwell and the reason for postponing our last date. He shared a great deal of empathy and he no longer has any living grandparents, a thought that broke my heart. This melted my heart a little, he clearly cares for his family, he went on to speak fondly of his mother and sister.

We arrived back and the car and it was clear neither of us wanted to leave both suggesting places to stop, maybe we should grab a bite to eat. We settled on dinner and taking it back to another beach to enjoy the last sunset of 2023.

He ordered atlest 4x as much food as I did and had a giggle, uncertain that I wouldn’t fade anyway to nothing. We settled at a bay not far from home and found a picnic table under a tree, it was evident to Peter Pan that I was cold, neither of us dressed for the rain let alone the early evening wind. After dinner he quickly took me back to the car where we both just sat for a bit, again neither of us wanting to leave one another’s presence but not having anywhere else to go or be. I invited him back to mine for a drink and after making a difficult decision at the liquor store made it to the couch.

Peter Pan, was rather concerned about the weight of my darling cat, but was reassured to know my close friend who is a vet, was well informed of the circumstances and it was being sorted. We exchanged stories of our cats and found out that oddly enough we both acquired them from our previous relationships, in fact the last few years of our lives had been eerily similar.

Peter Pan body doubled for me as I folded my washing and put it away, he even built the drinking game I had purchased of Temu, this didn’t feel like a first date, I feel like I have known this man forever. Whilst yet again neither of us wanted to leave, Peter Pan was very concerned that I had pre planned my New Year’s Eve with a friend, although she and I both laughed after the event as she would have simply gone home to bed after an already long day. We aid our goodbyes and landed on a hug. Which I later stressed about to a friend “maybe he isn’t interested? Is it weird that we spent 6 hours together and he didn’t kiss me before he left?!” Text him. She answered simply.

So I did. “My Friend said you should come back” however, I knew from earlier on that he wouldn’t receive this message until he got home to his iPad. We joked about how he could’ve slept on the couch with the cat and he apologised for not kissing me. We even arranged a second date.

Peter Pan brings out the joy and childlike nature in me and I look forward to seeing him again.

[foursdarkdays]

About me?

Honestly idk why i suddenly thought about writing all this here but ig maybe??? i could find the root causes of my mental health? idk

Sooo umm It all started when i was 11, back in 2011 when my Mom's father kicked us out basically. I dont really have a father, i mean i do but hes not really there. My mother married him out of family pressure and that didnt end well. He had severe anger issues and was always jealous that my mom earned more than him. male ego ew. He wanted mom to leave her job and be a houswife with a lot of restrictions but thankfully my mom stood up for herself and they were living seperately. They never lived together tbh. my father was from another city and my mom didnt move there due to obvious reasons. so anyway yeah back to the story. So when we were basically homeless, we rented a house . glad my house had a good gov job so we could afford it. It was during summer holidays right after my 6th grade when everything started affecting me mentally. I would stay home alone all day, no tv , no phone , no colony friends it was very lonely. Weird thoughts kept coming in my mind it was a devils house lmaoo. Plus the family fights and stuff were taking a huge toll on me. I didnt share this with my school friends back then prolly because i was embarrassed or because i didn't find the need to? I did'nt know how to behave with people. i started getting aggressive about a lot of things and my friends left me for that. Later i realised and apologized for my behavior and got them back.

anyway so back when i was in my grandfathers house, we were a joint family0. my grandmother, granfather, mother and her brother and sister and i. There were fights almost everyday but later when my aunt and mama got married the fights got more intense. i used to run up to the terrace to avoid all the shouting. I think thats one of the reaons why i get so worked up when i hear people yelling. trauma?.

anywayyyy so everything started effecting my studies and my acadmeics went to hell. i love my mom but back then she'd say all these mean things to me like "Why were you even born" "you're so useless" honestly i dont remember now but yeah that also affected me a lot mentally that i started self harming. It was out of curiosity at first but then i got addicted. The physical pain made the mental pain feel less. I self harmed almost everyday. it was like a drug to me. When my friends found out about it because i used to cut my hand like the whole hand, i started cutting my leg, It hurt a lot, sometimes i couldnt even walk. i just wish id bleed to death or something. Family and bad academics made everything worse. and as a cherry on top, something happened in school. Everyone thought i was a liar and it was like everywhere i went, people spoke bad about me that i dreaded going to school. Anyway this self harming continued till 2016 November ig? (i started in 2013) i self harmed in the hostel as well lol until.. until my ex best friend cum my roommate tried to end her life. It was scary. She left school but i kept thinking about it. Somehow that made me stop trying to kill myself for a while and completely stop self harming. I used to have a lot of anxiety attacks without knowing they were anxiety attacks.

anyway this even worsened during my bachelors. My depression and anxiety got very severe. Not just mentally but also physically. The chest pains, the body pains, the nausea and fatigue, the constant tiredness and fear. I completely failed academics which in return increased my anxiety. I felt so hopeless and useless beacuse i was good at nothing. It took me 5 years to graduate a 4-year bachelors degree with 34 backlogs and numerous failed suicide attempts. i wasnt even that brave to hang myself or jump off but but it was mostly over doing my anti-depressants. oh yeah i went tp therapy, that guy saw my self hard scars and told my mom. fuck. anyway mom was worried. also i'm glad she never told me anything about my academics she never made me feel like a failure im very glad. Shes always encouraging. I feel selfish that i tried to end myself when im the only one left for mom but i couldnt and cant help it. Im sorry mom you obviously deserve a better kid. A much better kid. So ummm yeah after graduating and leaving therapy because the meds werent working i started feeling a bit better? the anxiety and depression went down or maybe i just learned how to live with it. it was already 2022 which means 11 years of depression. i think anxiety came along in 2016? honestly idk but ik i started treating it as a part of me, i accepted it and it did help me. It doesnt effect my daily routine because ive learnt to live with it.

anyway so about my father, he kept visiting from time to time. at first it was every month, then it became once in 2 , 3 ,4 ,5 . Its not like he cared. He never helped us emotionally or financially, Even when my mom was hospitalised and had a surgery in 2013, he didnt come to see. He only visited when he wanted to. My mom went througha lot because society talks yk? she basically a single mom and its hard to live in this stupid country like that. People talk shit about you. Anyway it took me 16 years to realise that my "father" never really cared. I started despising him and even his presence (once in a year) gave me the icks. His family also always spoke bad about my mother including himself ig. I didnt know how to asnwer people when they asked about him. okay so anyway he came home last year (2022) and i had to kick him out because it was becoming suffocating for me and mom. mostly mom so i did it for her. I said some rude things to him so that he wont come again and trust me i feel shit but yeah he deserved. And he came home on my bday early this year (jan). I still remember the way my heart dropped seeing him.I hate birthdsys because of this. I had to kick him out again. Again people talk. No one sees his mistakes , how he never called or gave a fuck about us. they only see how we kicked him out. I hate him . and then later i got to know that he also tried to ummm hchoke my mom back in 2003? when we went to visit him. I was there. i have a vivid image in my head that i can never forget. Theres also some secret that my mom and grandfather are keeping from me. idk if ill ever know about it . He prolly has another family maybe? idk p maybe its something worse. anyway thanks to him i cant look at any other man without thinking of him now.

yeah so now back to me. I ruined my life. idk if it can repaired. I'm trying to do my masters. I have applied to some collges in australia and one of them rejected me. my cgpa is 6.2 and i have 34 backlogs with no work exp so its hard, All i want to do is die because i cannot take this anymore. I dont try to kill myself anymore but i wish i could.

All of my friends have jobs or are doing their masters. what am i doing? i know i ahouldnt compare myself but do you think its easy? Everyone out there is indepedant already and im nothing? Its very embarassing and hard. The time is ticking like a time bomb and im terrified.

i need to get away from this place. I need to heal and i just need anothee chance from life where i could repair myself and move forward. I will never be able to move on if im here. There's a lot of pain and trauma here. ISTG if it doesnt work out, i might really do something to myself, i will shut myslef comepletely and just wait till i die.

ill add more things if i remember, now i have cramps on my fingers bye

[grazhir]

Trip Report (of sorts)

I've basically filled my quota for extra conversation for the year, and my quota of extra television.

Allergens are different up north (I knew that already, but was reminded). My sinuses were bitchy the whole time I was there, and now that I'm home again, they've gone bitchy again (which is basically that they're twice as bad in this state, so it's worse).

I had to feed chickens on this trip. My dear brother neglected to mention that part until after we arrived at the house and he got around to mentioning it and showing me what I'd need to do. Too bad I can't think up a decent prank against him.

[The last time I was around live chickens was as a child, when my paternal grandfather had some at his place up the road, and I remember that fuckin' bantam rooster who attacked me. I should have kicked it.]

Those chickens aren't old enough yet to lay eggs, so at least I didn't have to deal with that. (Next year, though? Eeeeee!)

One cat went wonky, and one dog. I am not a dog person. (Somewhere in those ten days I pointed out my mother's hypocrisy when she complained about being licked by a cat because who knows where those tongues have been, and I pointed out just what I've seen dogs eating, up to and including "crunchy snacks" from a cat's litter box.)

I also vaguely embarrassed myself at the post office when I went in to mail a package my brother shoved at us before he left for the airport. I've clearly been away from New England too long to not connect "no postal workers at the desk" and "there is a bell".

The guy who came in after me quite sensibly asked if I'd binged it.

And then the lady helping me said I needed to put a return address on the package, and all I could remember was the street address. I called my mother (who was waiting in the car—she has mobility issues) to get the rest of it. Geez. I was polite, though, and thanked the lady postal worker for being patient with me.

Flight there was fine.

Flight back? Haw. I woke up at 3am (because my flight was at six) to see a notification that there was a three hour delay—a solid guarantee that I would miss my connecting flight. I had (originally) a three hour layover. Yeah, not anymore. (And later I got a notification that first flight was bumped another hour.)

Spent three hours on hold with the airline, but finally rang through and the nice lady bumped me to another airline. I got home just fine, thankfully.

Doesn't mean I didn't spend those three hours freaking out and spending way too much time in the garage vaping more than usual.

I will say I hate the phone app for United, though. American Airlines has a much nicer app. I think Delta's is nicer, too.

[malignantprose]

"Adenine", a Vignette from the "Blue" series by M. Myosotis

It wasn’t at all uncommon, growing up, to receive a compliment on my eyes. Our whole family did, as our genes graced us with blue eyes. Genetically, I don’t understand how this is entirely possible, as my maternal grandmother has hazel and my maternal grandfather had blue, but given my disdain for brown eyes I suppose I should be thankful.

My mother, father, siblings and I all have blue eyes. I recall always saying how pale my mother’s irises were, and as a child I attributed that to her always being on a computer, doing work late into the night until early hours of the morning. I suppose that routine also would result in the bags under her eyes she always tried to hide with makeup that, eventually, she didn’t have time to put on before work, so the darkness around her eyelids would accentuate the pale color even further. While she slaved away every night to make ends meet, sleeping and snoring away on the couch downstairs would be my father. My father, if I can recall his eyes–not that I looked into them often, being as I learned to avoid him more as I grew up–were a more rich shade, which (and pardon my shitty understanding of genetics) could be due to his parents both having blue eyes. The purity of the bloodline, perhaps? He’d get a kick out of that one. Such an accursed bloodline, but he’d be proud to hear it’s pure in any sense of the term. I mean, he was proud he went to prison rather than jail, when either way all I hear is that he’s a horrid criminal who has done worse than anyone is aware.

My brother and sister’s eyes are some of the most beautiful eyes I’ve seen. On my brother, his eyes are joyful, but when he needs to defend, as his status of the man of the house, protector, and household second-degree black belt/firefighter commanded, they could turn cold and dangerous just by changing his demeanor. (I don’t doubt he’ll be an amazing father to a beautiful family someday.) I miss him so. Even though I used to remark how our upbringing made him a little more violent than most his age, at least I could look at him and say he was a good kid, an upstanding man who loved his family, and a protector of the meek and female if they needed it. Sure, we got into fights as children, but as he grew he became an amazing man and I couldn’t ask for a better little brother. I’m so proud of him and tell everyone that he’s a registered weapon who can carry a woman out of a fire to boot. He has a girlfriend right now, and I do hope he’s as happy someday as he looks now.

My little sister’s eyes are similarly joyful, naturally wide and excited. Even in moments where she turns snarky and serious, they’re pure and deep, as if to show to whomever she’s speaking that there’s more to her than can ever be comprehended, and the only glimpse they will ever have of this secret inner world is through looking into those irises for those few, stolen moments. I’ve always loved my little sister’s eyes, and I wonder what she sees through them. She’s an artist, and creates such lovely things, and she sees so many jokes and comebacks and ideas floating in the air that to look through them for only a second would be a blessing unto itself.

My eyes have always felt like something weighing down my head. I’m told often that I have lovely eyes, though that has notably slowed since I’ve taken to not cleaning my glasses, especially after crying, which I do often. My eyes feel like a burden, forced to look upon this world with impunity and disregard. I wonder how my eyes look to everyone else. I wonder what they think when they narrow. Do you suppose, after I show my true colors, show them there’s something in here to be afraid of, they no longer regard my eyes as being alive? I wonder if when they again see me, they say, “Her eyes aren’t blue with life. They’re blue with death. They’re blue with decay and asphyxiation, like the world choked everything good there was out of her, but her mind doesn’t comprehend that her body is just a corpse she inhabits.”

It’d be rather poetic if they thought that, but I look upon the people around me and reason they couldn’t ever be so insightful as to think along those lines. I can’t say I wouldn’t want someone to say something, though, even if it is something like that. Many relationships I’ve had, those I considered my partner would comment on my clothes or my shoes or jewelry… never quite something about myself that was innate. For years I entertained changing my eyes to green or swapping out my face, or something of the like, perhaps if only to have someone compliment something about me that isn’t something I can remove easily. I’ve only ever had one man say he adored my eyes, and funnily enough, he was colorblind. He owed that to his genetics. We owe our eye color to it. Perhaps I owe the curse of my existence to my genetics as well.

Sometimes, I think humans shouldn’t be allowed to breed.

[irislabslive]

The End.

February 28th, 2022. I feel as if a chapter is ending. I just started the new one. I spent three days doing the things I used to do. I fucked up my shoulder in the pit in a basement in New Paltz on Friday night. I screamed and pushed and kicked and didn't cry.

I woke up Saturday sore, but ready to do it all again. I keep opening Instagram to a combination of anger and love. It hurts seeing what you should be doing if last summer went differently. But it happened and it sucked and even the good moments weren't worth it.

I drove by the rest area my first real boyfriend dumped me over Twitter DM at when I was 18. I don't encounter this area often but when I do, it's like that 18-year-old girl is still there stuck in her shock. Stuck in her pain. You only get that kind of love when you're young and stupid. I'll admit, I miss it sometimes, it was like something out of a movie. But love isn't a movie.

In 7 days it will be my 24th birthday. I am terrified. My 23rd birthday was the most bittersweet day of the year. Bittersweet isn't the right word though. Painful is.

It feels like I'm still in that day sometimes, I woke up early like I always do on my birthday. I had planned to see my Nanny, my aunt, and my dad during the day. I didn't see my dad but that was okay. I woke up to no birthday texts from my aunt or my dad. That's when I knew something was wrong.

I went to my Aunt's house to my Uncle being the only one there. He told me my Nanny was dying. I'm in shock. I'm still in shock. I want to see her and talk to her and hug her so bad. I want her to kiss my cheek and ask me to take her to get zippers for whatever baby sweater she's crocheting now.

I never had any grandfathers. They were never alive in my life so I only had my two grandmothers. This is kicking me in the stomach. Nanny was 93 years old. I rushed to the nursing home she had been in since September when she had a stroke and my aunt found her sitting on the couch covered in blood with a pool of blood on the floor as well. We'll never know what happened to Nanny that day. She had a stroke. I would visit her every day I wasn't working.

Covid had her nursing room on lockdown for almost a month, maybe it was more I can't remember - I just remember it being horrible.

During my visits, Nanny would have a round of questions she always asked. Are you working? Where are you working? Do you have a boyfriend? Yes. A few places. No. She asked me a few weeks prior the last question and I wanted to tell her about my love story, leaving out all the details that made it seem like I was being manipulated and abused. I'd talk about our first kiss when he took my breath away and how long we've known each other and all the nights on Skype. But that was half a decade ago and what I was getting now was not the same person as all those years ago.

My birthday. Back to my birthday. I had made plans to see him that night. We hadn't seen each other in nearly a year. He booked a hotel room. I was supposed to have a good birthday. But here I was staring at Nanny, tears in my eyes. She didn't look the same as she did a few days earlier.

The week prior she said something to me and my aunt that can only be described as eerie. She saw this face. She kept seeing this face that wasn't there. It felt like a bullet. But today she was barely conscious. I held her hand for a little bit. It hurt. I sat there for a little bit until my aunt asked me to bring her back home to get her car and come back. I remember saying bye to Nanny. I told her that I loved her and walked out with my aunt. It hurt.

I told him what was happening and I just needed that support. I stopped at my mom's house and told my brother. He was taken aback. I went back to my apartment and got on a silly little outfit. I needed to wear something that made me feel good. It was cold that day. I didn't care. I got in my car with all my things and drove. 2 hours. I got to him, got out of my car, and kissed him. I needed to kiss him more than anything. He held me for a moment. I felt okay for a second.

The entire evening we spent together I was terrified of getting the call. He kept me pretty calm. His intentions that day were so much like the first time around. He cared so much. I couldn't sleep much that night but sleeping next to him for the first time was peaceful. I kept tossing and turning and checking my phone every few minutes. Nothing. Silence. The silence was scarier. He woke up at some point and eventually calmed me down and held me til I fell asleep. At least I had this support tonight. Most nights it is just Jasper and I. I wish I could've brought Jasper to see Nanny. She would've loved to get to pet him and give him treats one last time. That's her great-grandkitty.

I woke up the next day. Nothing. Still silence. I was too scared to ask.;

I found out after my aunt and my dad were counting down the minutes to midnight hoping that she wouldn't die on my birthday.

I eventually kissed him goodbye and got in my car and drove home. I was exhausted. I kept trying to force myself to go back to the nursing home. I was too depressed. I fell asleep eventually. Between the physical and emotional pain, I was half alive. I get the call at 5:40pm. When I saw Aunt Eileen pop up on my phone my heart sank. I think I had tears before I answered.

The silence was over. There was an eerie sense of peace. Nanny was okay.

But I wasn't. I cried for hours. My mom called me to check in on me. I was still crying. She took me out to lunch a few hours earlier to try and calm me down. I couldn't be calm. This hurt.

So in one week, it will be one year since my 23rd birthday. It will be my 24th birthday. I am trying to stay positive and trying to make plans so I don't have to be sad on my birthday.

Between the memories of my abusive relationship before it got physical. Between my Nanny dying. Between just hanging on. I'm trying.

But it's as if a cycle ended. I feel so different.

I am not crying over losing him anymore. I actually for the first time, feel a little something for someone else and am excited about the future. There's so much on the horizon. Last month I got a new car and this weekend I gave it a taste of the "old" me that I lost for a little bit. I made friends on my own, I went out, and I started hanging out again. When I drove by his exits on the highway I remembered, but it didn't hurt anymore. He didn't destroy me this time. I am free.

March is going to busy. My year is picking up again, I am getting my shit together still, but it's mostly little things at this point. I am listening to my body. I am trying to find motivation. I am okay. I am free.

I have lots of exciting and scary things coming up but I am doing the damn thing. I feel so free.