#so id probably just stick with pads if i still had a period

[bisexual-slime]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT i just tried putting a tampon in for the first time at the ripe old age of almost-20 and it’s one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me???? it hurt so fucking much holy fuck. i took it back out almost immediately, it was so uncomfortable. why do so many women choose to do this to themselves

I've never used a tampon bc scary but I've just never really understood why that would be your first choice and why it's the most common choice. I always used pads and while they may not be the most secure, they're comfy and dont require insertion so they were always my first choice (never used anything else). lichrally why would you choose this!!! they're so horrible they need to be abolished tbh

[requiemforarainbow]

I wish I was a reporter...

Just so I could show up at one of the Orange Dickhead's "press conferences" and ask what the MSM won't.

"Sir... what the fuck are you talking about?"

"No, seriously, that is the dumbest shit I've ever heard in my life."

"Do your wife and children really love you? Then why aren't they getting you a mental health evaluation? You sound like my great-uncle did when he got diagnosed with dementia. And no, I refuse to believe you 'passed' that dementia test...if you actually took it."

Do not let that man anywhere near the nuclear codes. Ever again.

The MSM KNOW he's fucked in the head. But it's good for their ratings. So they won't show Harris or Walz, but will give DonOLD all the free media he wants.

The reason Kamala won't speak to the press? She doesn't have to. Operation "Just Let Him Talk" is (seemingly) working. She's giving him just enough rope to hang himself, and it's beautiful.

He doesn't understand he's not swaying new voters to his side. He doesn't understand anything. And he doesn't listen to his advisors. The name-calling thing worked (a bit) in 2016. Not so much in 2020. And it's failing hard now because nothing he tries to pin on Kamala sticks. Hell, even the "Tampon Tim" thing from the right just makes him sound fucking awesome. "Tampon Tim - stops that red wave."

(If my state's governor had gotten free period products in our schools when I was attending, all of us who needed them would have probably voted for them for Monarch of Earth, let alone any other office. No more having to go to the nurse and pay for them...if/when they were in stock AND your teacher fucking allowed you the pass. My school was inner-city and fairly poor. Guess how many kids couldn't pay for the pad/tampon? And had debt at the end of the year because our nurses were too fucking compassionate to just not let them have it, but still required to get the money eventually? I remember paying for at least 5 friends' debt my senior year.)

I guess I have feelings about this one.

Yes, Harris is not perfect. Yes, Walz is not perfect. But they are a DAMN SIGHT BETTER than the moldering old dementia-addled Adderall addict who can't speak in complete sentences. Who thinks power-generating windmills are killing whales. Who thinks you need ID to buy groceries. Who suggested injecting bleach during the height of the pandemic. I will take a flawed, imperfect being that we can actually have a discussion about issues with over Swiss-Cheese-For-Brains whose only goal is to enrich himself and his billionaire buddies, and to strip away everyone else's rights until we're fucking Gilead.

I will not be a fucking Handmaid. We will not go back.

[faustonastring]

hi im currently dying because of my period so i just wanna know how the main 6 act when mc gets their period and specifically cramps cause id really like for someone to help me feel less awful right now, anyways thank you!

Aghhhn I know I said I was gonna wait to write more tomorrow, and I still haven’t wrote the upright ending one, but this one feels like and emergency, because honestly I know how you feel (my cramps were once so bad I passed out In class, so I know how you’re feeling 100% and if you ever want to talk or need anything my dms and asks are always open!) I hope this makes you feel better!

Main six when Mc gets their period

Asra

Exotic chocolate . That’s it that’s the headcanon. Also chocolate has stuff in it that’s supposed to leesen your cramps (I forget what but I know it’s in there) so he sticks up on a ton of it just for moments like these.

Will massage you whoever it hurts if you need him too, and he gives the best massages (next to Muriel) plus his hands can heat up from his ✨Magick✨ which makes it ten times better. Speaking of his hands heating up, he’ll warm up his hands and place it where it hurts, but if you don’t like being touched then He’ll heat up a rag instead (he also has the vesuvian equivalent of this)

Won’t let you leave the bed, faust watches over you just too be sure, he can run the shop, do the chores, cook clean, hell, he even starts to call himself you’re house wife, because he’s doing everything! But don’t worry, he says it nuzzling his head in your neck, pampering you with kisses, he doesn’t mind.

(Also you and Afab asra are synced up, and neither of you get shit done that whole week)

Nadia

Dude, she got the whole palace staff doating on you in a matter of minutes, you’re not going to have to lift a finger for the next week. She also makes sure you have all the goods, expensive wine, expensive chocolate, expensive comfy pajamas, what ever else you need.

If your cramps start to get too bad, she’ll call in a doctor (probably Julian) to check in on you, she’s had her fair share of bad cramps, she just wants to make sure there’s not any underlying problems, just in case.

She’ll run you as many warm baths as you need, taking her time washing you, massaging where it hurts, and feeding you chocolate, she just wants you to feel better, it hurts her seeing you like this. She’ll also hire a masseuse if you’d like one, and she keeps warm rags on where it hurts all day.

Julian

Now, mans is a doctor, he knows a thing or two, but uh,,,,,,,oh god are they supposed to be that painful? He’s the type of dude who doesn’t understand why dudes complain about having it worst when not only woman have birth which is extremely painful, but they also get their period once a month, which they can’t even control plus, it’s just as painful. That being said if will fight some one if they start saying shit like that, just saying.

If it’s bad bad, then he’ll stay home from work and look after you, just too make sure you’re okay, he can’t take a week off of work every month though, so choose carefully, but he will try to come home as early as he can. And he is the most doating out of the main six, so if you want it baby you got it,

He’s also the most down for period sex because orgasms help relevie stress and because, let’s be honest, he’s done worst. (Stolen from @lisa-frank-cave who’s written two(?) headcanons about periods, and a modern au one(which was really good)was posted very recently so it shouldn’t take long to find!)

Portia

Oof she’s been there, she’s already getting the ice cream, and is about to leave to pick up some soup from mazelinka which helps with the cramps, you’re not aloud to move until she gets back, and if you do there will be consequences.

Pepi is like the heating pad you didn’t know you needed, she’s perfect, she’s nice warm, soft, and she’ll just lay where ever you put her. Plus if you need to do something with your hands to keep your mind off the pain, you can just pet her, and tell her how cute she is. (You can also do the same thing with Portia)

Portia will also try to take your mind off of it, but pay telling you funny stories, or making out, or teaching you how too knit or sew, or giving you the strap, or braiding your hair,, ya know cute couple things. :)

Muriel

Muriel sure as hell isnt cluless, he knows what a period is, but he didn’t know they hurt this much,,, and it makes him sad,,, so when I tell you he’s going to do anything In his power to make you feel better, I mean it baby, he’s got you covered.

He’s warm like all the time, he just runs hot, (which makes sense because he is hot) so he’ll just place his hands where your cramps are and hold you, or even give you a little massage if you need one, and covers you in furs, anything to make you feel better.

He👏will👏sing👏too👏you👏 is it good? I mean it’s not too bad, but it’s cute because he’s trying! He sings in like a super soft voice and runs his free hand through you hair while his other arm is wrapped around your waist and his hand is resting where it hurts while you drink magick tea that’s supposed to make your cramps get better and it’s just 😤😤😤 so perfect.

Lucio

Like Muriel, he’s not clueless, nor is grossed out, he’s not ashamed of it at all actually, and if you bleed through his sheets he does everything in his power to make you smile again and tries to reassure you that their just sheets and they can be replaced, but you can’t

He has doctors and servants doating on you 24/7, and promises you he’s hurting too. A wise man once said “its uterUS babe” and lucio lives by that rule. He also lives by the rule of “ if babes on her period, then I’m on my period.” Like the whole palace hates him when your on your period because he’s more obnoxious than usual!

He’ll drown you in cool gadgets that are supposed to make you feel better, and press pressure into where the pain is, all while holding a warm rag to the spot to make you feel better, and safe. He’ll also give you lots of kisses to make you feel better, sure it doesn’t help, but don’t tell lucio that.

Ahhhh, I tried to write this as fast as I can, so I could get it too you as quick as possible because dude I know your hurting and I’m so sorry. I hope this makes you feel better. Also again: @lisa-frank-cave has some really good period content on their page (we’ll content in general but you might like their period content in this hard time) I hope you feel better soon! (Also again if you ever need everything my dms and asks are always open! And I’m always willing to write something short if you just specify! ❤️)

[mantrabay]

Saturday an overarching day that's both conduit and shelter for souls in transition.

Thoughts of the more disturbing kind and their covert operations intrude even in our leisure time.

Little did I know what lay ahead.

All these scenarios flashed across my mind as the wheels of my car screeched to a halt.

Shafts of radiant sunlight revealed an embroidered placard.

A cryptic but apocryphal question -

Going somewhere?

Light green brush strokes and entwined leaves garnished the borders of this plaque.

A hitchhiker appeared with the most expressive eyes.

Like shining windows openly admitting the rush of a golden dawn.

A rippling nuanced voice spoke.

“Hello, I'm Lelia. Life is a series of stops

and strange encounters.

A journey of some kind.”

Thought-provoking stuff!

She extended her supple skin right hand.

“Hop in.

I'm Joshua King. Going anywhere in particular?"

I enquired archly after the ritual handshake.

"Besides going somewhere or nowhere in particular.”

I continued.

"In one sense I'm not sure. But there is this place we should all go to.

You'll know what I mean later.”

Lelia mysteriously.

"Not to worry.

Travel is therapy for me."

What made me, Joshua King , say that?

The mind can be overpopulated with figments.

Frustrated figments waiting for that freedom dash.

Some have the seeds of alternative visions.

A svelte lady wearing an azure blue padded jacket and sea blue denims glided gracefully into my car.

Hatha yoga asana entry.

My pinstripe attire seemed conventional.

It was at odds with this philosophical journey man.

"Love the aroma ....air freshener.

Orchard in a vehicle tantalising nostrils.

Symbol of attempted purge."

Her voice dropped a few keys to a lower register.

Redolent of metaphysics classes I had to abandon.

I was naive enough to believe that attending these courses would fix my “issues.”

They were more than just momentary bugs.

They couldn't be spray canned away.

I was, however, adept at avoiding their resolution.

Draft dodger or fugitive adept.

My “issues” were other "selves.”

I called them timid, anxious, fidgety,scrupulous withdrawn.

“What’s more I chat to them.

Under my breath. These chats I call the "whispers.”

Will Lelia notice?

Will she spot them?"

My twin brother Jonah, a twin in every sense could point out my tendency to flee.

We spot each other’s flaws with aplomb.

The twinning of tortured psyches.

Banter between mirror images of real selves!

Jonah was an integral part of these "whispers" too!

All these thoughts were doing hula hoops in my head as Lelia made herself comfortable.

In the process peculiarities surfaced which seemed more than the usual passing quirks.

"I'm Lelia, again. Don't forget. You probably won't.

This place I alluded to is but a distance from here.

Distance is a gulf whose magnitude is shaped by it's smoothness of passage.

Or the fate that awaits one at journey’s end.

My destination is another world altogether."

A lady who could structure her sentences with the adroitness of a cryptic crossword clue setter.

Tapping me on the shoulder at the most obscure angle she extended her hand again.

Her fingers and thumb spatially arranged with the tutored

stillness of a TM Guru.

Was that repetition a neurotic oddity or a symptom of a deeper malaise?

I nodded to the said hand gesture.

We both brushed this bizarre incident off as it had no instant moment.

It seemed as if I was talking to someone quite out of the ordinary.

The spot on asides and the strict avoidance of that verbal litter referred to as small talk suggested as much.

Pauses. They did surface periodically.

The silence was then punctuated by a sudden remark.

"All those conifers. Look at how they reach out to the sky.”

This was just the start of one of Lelia’s poetic observations.

“They seem so close yet isolated.

There is something almost within their grasp.

Almost.”

Lelia nonplussed.

“See the adjoining fields. The green is but a cover. They are as neighbours in a high rise flat.

One could say they are both connected and disconnected at the same time.

As for those dips in the valleys? Well, they could signify some sort of rise and fall."

Lelia resting her case momentarily.

“A resurrection. After the fall.

Oh the Lazarus within us all."

Joshua deadpanned.

“I'm a bit of a writer and maths researcher.”

I proffered.

"Recluses some say.

Oh, I didn't mean you

Necessarily.”

Ouch, said my shattered Id.

Lelia, archer of the scar inflicting verbal.

Bow and arrow baroness of stinging broadsides.

This offshoot to our conversation was infused with a wry allusion.

Insight on a whim. Fleeting.

We both laughed at the incongruity of a conversation that had become very elliptical in form.

Tangents cropped up as impetus to the other person's willingness to reveal themselves.

Lelia didn't exactly volunteer her vocation but left clues.

“You didn't say what you did?

Student ...essayist ...author."

Me sounding Lelia out.

“Oh no children….dashing right across the road in front of us.

Squealing with delight. Whoops of innocent joy? They are sticking out their tongues now!”

Hair-raising moment I hadn't anticipated.

I spied Lelia sticking her tongue out at those reckless varmints.

She stopped the minute I noticed.

“Children …….sometimes you have to act like a kid when dealing with kids."

Straight and to the point from this hitchhiker.

She now resumed the thread of an earlier topic.

“Work ….you asked about work.

I sort of work and play with the mind.

Play act too.”

A retort of sudoku like complexity.

As I digested lelia’s response it dawned on me how much like people my "selves”were.

Even when driving I "dialogued” those various aspects.

“You've an interesting face. The face is like a map, I say.

Heard you mutter about your "selves."

Leslie being cheeky..

Silence as challenge started to creep in.

Russian roulette within the rules.

“Watch your driving, there." Lelia in a more down to earth tone.

Her different voices now somersaulting..

“Very quite aren't we, Josh?"

Josh mark you!

Sounding me out like an interrogator trying to crack a stubborn suspect.

Without a word of warning Lelia raised her voice and got into a tantrum.

“What's the matter ….lost something ?”

Joshua said anxiously.

A curious search resembling a scrum ensued.

Then more silence..

I craned my neck and spotted an uncanny regression.

Lelia talking to herself in a child like manner and then changing tack..

“Don't worry. Found what I was looking for.”

Another void.

A tense lull. A little lockjaw appears when the juice runs out of discourse.

I squinted in the mirror once more.

This time Lelia was talking to her palm..

Staring vacantly at it she kept repeating the name Linda.

Lelia continued oblivious to what I saw or might be thinking.

She hummed this strange lullaby..

Suddenly my "selves" surfaced in an uncontrollable flurry.

I tried to suppress them but failed abysmally.

The "whispers and selves" started to have a life of their own.

This car is getting a bit crowded.

It's being converted into a train with fantasy passengers on board.

The sort one hears late at night hurtling through the countryside with dim lights flickering.

Both inside and outside this vehicle a tumult of events was taking place.

Out of the blue the rain poured heavily.

“The gods or the elements must be cross or something.” Lelia opined.

“Let’s get introduced to my playmate in a palm.

Linda, these are Joshua’s true other selves.”

Lelia chuckling.

A comic situation arose where I changed my voice for each of my "selves" by way of introduction.

My great powers of concentration helped while driving.

"Pleased to meet you, Linda.”

Lelia altered her voice when teasing all my "selves."

She had some experience as a ventriloquist.

But Lelia was having this hypnotic effect too.

I was being manipulated.

One by one my highly personalised complexes were being extracted and subject to a rigorous grilling.

This was some hitchhiker.

Was this car journey now becoming a high rent farce or a mock therapy session from an amateur shrink?

The rain continued to lash and my other "selves" felt like the last sting of a dying wasp.

A certain lightness ensued.

Almost as if my “aspects” were floating away.

For the first time my "other selves“ didn't seem to have this grip on me.

But deep down I knew I wanted to keep a little of them.

Although they were a burden they did have their positive aspects.

“Jonah … he still bugs doesn't he.

He’s almost like one of those "other selves!"

The "whispers" I heard earlier … I've a very delicate ear.

Those under the breath "whispers" gave the game away.

The names and complex relations between them."

Lelia now probing very deeply.

The wind howled and the rain splashed across the bonnet like seafront waves.

There was a warped synchronicity..

As my complexes receded so did the thunderous weather.

They were working in tandem.

“Wash it all away. Come on, come on

See me waving my wand.”

Lelia chanted.

The Exorcist film had nothing on this.

Before his very eyes Joshua's "reticence" and the other "selves" were disappearing virtually.

Against the backdrop of all this inner and outer ferment Lelia kept looking out the window.

Was that this home she mentioned earlier getting closer as Joshua was

"going home” to himself?

“Windows are amazing.

They show us the world but sometimes screen us from it.”

Lelia wiping

fog from the car window.

“Trees and branches swaying. Clouds darkening.

Thickening ominously.

Exodus of pedestrians seeking answers.”

Her voice penetrating Joshua.

“Am I being cleansed of what they call inner demons?"

Joshua panic stricken.

"This other worldly person has me spellbound.

There's a chessboard in this moving vehicle.

A total stranger has me in her palm.” .

Lelia assumed various postures.

As Joshua was the driver she didn't want to send him to sleep.

Lelia's voice was either a hypnotist's drone or excited sports commentator.

Joshua could never forget this encounter.

“Don't forget Jonah too. Joshua wherever he might be.”

Her sinister tone rising.

“The name on your credit card.

I found it earlier when searching for my script.

Joshua Jonah king.”

Joshua confessed he was an only child.

“Am I a prisoner?.

Must button my lip.

I'm being freed and incarcerated by this person, the likes of whom I've never met before.”

Joshua felt this final therapeutic process coursing through him.

Very little was left of his "selves", “whispers.”

Joshua drove through a stoically preserved area whose haunting nature was blurred by this encounter.

“Terrible to have all these half worlds revealed with such clinical accuracy.”

Joshua to himself.

Lelia's voice gradually lost its domineering tone.

At this point by accident or design the tense atmosphere eased.

“You are probably wondering where this is all going to end.

Maybe I have whispers, Jonah's and selves to face too.”

A casual Lelia random comment.

On this occasion a composite of adult confidence and infantile charm.

“Oh here we are, this place.

She stated.

Joshua had undergone a sea change catharsis due to the “selves” and “whispers” being evacuated.

“Should I thank this lady or what? I’ll never be the same again but is that for the right reason?

Jonah my make-believe twin. Don't really need him do I?”

Joshua pondered.

“Back to earth my dear.

This is where we shake hands and part.”

Lelia again.

“Better change the name on that credit card.

Keeping stuff like that from credit card companies could land you in trouble.’

A cackle from Lelia this time.

“See that building. That's what I meant early on.

It's called Another World School of Acting.”

Lelia alighted and pointed to this centre.

"Acting is therapy. That's their motto.

Therapy in every sense!

But you don't want to take every word I say literally do you?

Forgot to mention they are auditioning for a play.

It's called “Inside The Split Mind." She said.

"Wonder will I get the part?”

As she leant over to shake hands her eyes had a certain lost look about them.

[thepeterfuckinparker]

miss. thompson — peter parker smut

Summary: Miss. Y/N Thompson is Flash’s step-sister, one of the queen bees and a popular girl around the school. One day, she’s feeling bold when Peter Parker is her chemistry partner.

Notes: ive had this idea for such a long time, but like a fanfic for it on wattpad (FOLLOW ME ON WATTPAD: @/angryfangirl) bUt im a dirty girl so i turned it into smut oops,, i GOT SOME CUTE ASS LINGERIE ON, GOT SUM DICK TODAY, THOUGHT ID UPLOAD THIS LOLOL

Warnings: very smutty, rubbing, boners, wet things, annoying flash, kinda sex-in-school!!!

pt. 2

“Miss. Thompson,” Your head shot up, meeting eyes with the irritated teacher in front of you. You smiled, laughing nervously as you raised your eyebrows. “Do you know the answer to number fifteen?”

Before you could answer, the bell rang causing you to spring up and grab your things. The class chuckled in amusement while you smirked, holding your books against your chest as you waltzed out of the classroom. There was thankfully one class period left, Chemistry Honors, you loved it. Well, not the subject specifically. You took your time walking down the hallways, greeting peers as they waved at you. It wasn’t hard to explain, you were pretty popular around the school, you could blame that on your step-brother, Flash Thompson. You were the nicer sibling, sweeter and smarter, definitely the favorite. Flash’s father would easily choose you over his son, you were just that good of a kid. Flash, on the other hand, was a known troublemaker, stuck-up rich kid, and quite the bully. You were nothing alike despite your years of growing up with each other, your parents married when you both were eight, it was a love-hate relationship between you both. Something that was a bit similar between you and Flash was reputation, you were somewhat serious about yours, never associating with the wrong people, it was a flaw of yours. You didn’t hang out with the Gaming Club, you found yourself a bit closer to Liz Allan and the cheerleading team.

“Today, we will be doing a Mole project. You will be making stuffed Moles! Get it? — Mole?” The chemistry teacher announced the moment students began to enter the room. He held up a little stuffed rodent that he had made himself.

You rolled your eyes, looking around for available seats at the working tables. Your eyes landed on Flash, instantly scoffing and shaking your head. You refused to work with him, he was already a pain in the ass at home. You continued to scan the tables before finding all the seats used up, you gasped at the sight of a free chair and table, rushing over, you jumped to seat yourself. You glared at the back of Flash’s head as he was seated in front of you, the seat beside you screeched.

“Can you not talk so obnoxiously loud?” You flicked your step-brother’s ear causing him to flip you off in return.

He began to think of a snarky remark before he focused on the person who sat beside you, “Penis Parker!” Flash laughed.

You turned your head and raised your eyebrows at Peter, he kept his head low in attempt to ignore your step-brother. You slapped the back of Flash’s head and muttered for him to be quiet. After a few seconds, you turned to Peter and smiled. “Sorry about him. He’s an ass.” The boy looked up and laughed quietly.

You bit your lip as he gazed away, paying attention to the directions being given. You couldn’t help but stare at him, Peter Parker was handsome, an old crush since middle school that died down by the beginning of junior year. He was interested in your best friend, Liz Allan, everyone was pretty sure of that, but as soon as she had moved away, his interests were unclear. You found yourself biting your pencil, your eyes still studying his face. Peter had a strong jaw, soft skin, these cute brown eyes that were either very focused or sometimes incredibly lost. You were brought back into reality when Peter looked at you, you straightened yourself up. He scooted his seat closer to you, settling the worksheet in between you both. Peter Parker was a low status at school, typically, he was someone you didn’t really associate with. It was bitchy, but that’s how it was. People would probably laugh at you if they were knew how you felt about the boy. You watched him scribble his name on the top of the paper. It was senior year now, things were different, what was the point of still trying to fit in when school was going to be over soon anyways? He passed the paper over to you, waiting for you to write your name.

‘Y/N Thompson’ You write neatly, moving your seat closer to start working. His clothed knee touched your bare thigh, he cleared his throat nervously. “Um- okay, did you want to do the stitching while I completed the work problems?” He suggested.

You raised your eyebrows in amusement, “Why do I have to do the lady work?” You passed him the sewing kit with a smirk while you grabbed the calculator. Peter’s cheeks turned a bright pink before he stammered nervously. “We’ll switch off, okay?” You started off with number one, easily figuring out equations and scribbling down the answers.

Peter sat beside you, starting to stitch the fabric to build your stuffed mole. You found yourself tearing your gaze away from the paper to look over at him. He was focused, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. You bit down on your lip again, taking an attempt at question number two before you moved your thigh. His knee continued to brush on your skin, your arms touching. You cleared your throat, pushing the paper closer to him before thinking of what to say.

“Um, I don’t think I get this one.” You said softly, you did understand the question, you just wanted his attention.

“Oh okay, I-I can explain it.” Peter nodded, You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Can you talk louder? I can’t hear you.” You lied, the classroom had gotten rowdy but not to the point where you couldn’t hear.

He leaned closer to you, his lips close to your ear as he began to explain the question. You moved your leg, goosebumps running across your skin as he spoke to you. Your hand slipped underneath the table, landing onto his left thigh. Peter froze, his words choking up. You stroked his leg gently with a soft smile playing on your face. He stared at you, unsure of what to say. You looked around the classroom, no one had been paying attention.

“A- W-What are you doing?” Peter asked quietly, continuing the stitching while you used your free hand to play with the pencil on the desk.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked, all he needed to say was yes or no, you would oblige. It was bold move, completely unexpected. Peter never thought you would try something like this on him, Y/N Thompson trying to seduce Peter Parker? It had to be a cruel joke.

He was scared to respond before he gulped, “No.”

“Then I won’t.” Your whispered into his ear, your hand continuing to stroke his thigh.

Peter shuttered beside you, his hands slightly shaking as he ran the needle through the fabric. He wasn’t very good at stitching but now he was doing even worse. Your touch was making him sweat, your soft hand on him was getting him hard. You noticed, occasionally looking from the worksheet to the boy’s face to his stitching to his lap. You smirked slightly as your hand led to his hard-on, you palmed him through his pants. He let out a small gasp, whipping his head up to glance at the teacher. You looked over at Flash who hadn’t noticed anything, you don’t know how he would react. You focused back to Peter, the pants leaving his mouth were leaving you wet. You cleared your throat, opening your legs wider and slipping down your hand to your soaked panties. He glanced over, eyes widening even further, if they grew any bigger they’d probably fall out of his head.

“We always have tomorrow if you don’t finish today! We will be presenting these, they need to be unique, make them a name. They can even be based-off of your favorite character!” The teacher exclaimed, Peter flinched each time.

You watched him attempt to stitch with one hand, the other grazing up and down your thigh. He clearly hadn’t done this before. You leaned closer to him, your lips lingering along his ear. Peter inhaled sharply, as your breath hit his skin. “Touch me.” You almost moaned quietly, he did as told, nodding as you sat back and continued to watch his lap with hooded eyes. Your hand worked back to the worksheet, while your other was handling palming him through his black jeans. His fingers pushed away your panties, he instantly collected the wetness between your slits, the pad of his index finger placed on your throbbing clit. You groaned lowly at the feeling, he didn’t really need your help, he somewhat knew what he was doing. Peter Parker has never been with a girl, especially in this way - he must’ve learned from videos, it felt good so that’s what you assumed. You clutched his hard cock through his jeans, biting down your lip as he rubbed circles on your sensitive bud. You looked up, on look-out once again before you met Flash’s eyes.

“What?” You snapped, “Sorry that our mole is gonna look better than y-yours.” You stuttered during the last word as Peter’s fingers pressed down on your clit harder than before, you rubbed him quicker.

“You wish!” Flash scoffed, turning his head and paying attention to his work, nudging his partner to work faster.

You quickened your pace with the palming of his cock, resisting the urge to accidentally drop your materials and get on your knees for Peter right there. His breathing was heavy, his fingers were quicker on your clit, he was close. You could see it in the way Peter was twitching, the way he occasionally shut his eyes and shuddered in pleasure. You leaned towards him again, a smile on your sweet face. “Cum for me, Parker.” You said softly, he instantly groaned but quickly covered it up with a cough - no one noticed. You continued to palm him until he grabbed your hand, it rested there for a second until you felt a wet spot on his black jeans. Peter was lucky he had worn them. You pulled away from him, a shit-eating grin on your face. You looked over at him and admired the post-orgasm look on his face, he was red, a bit sweaty from the pleasure. With confidence, you picked up his hand and raised it to his mouth. Peter took the hint, taking the fingers he had played with you and cleaning them up. He smiled back, leaning closer to you, “You taste so good.” Peter’s comment was low, it made you squeeze your thighs together in surprise.

“See? Look at mine, fuckers!” You both tore away, looking over at Flash who set down his mole. It was a stuffed animal in what looked like a makeshift Spider-Man suit. You snorted, your step-brother was obsessed with the superhero. Peter’s eyes widened at the sight, awkwardly coughing and focusing on your own project.

“It looks fucking stupid.” You laughed, snatching the Spider-Man mole in chucking it across the room. Flash smacked your arm, immediately protesting and shouting.

“Miss. Thompson!”

[omgrachwrites]

Ocean Avenue (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

Summary: When Darcie Baker - the daughter of a police officer - breaks her misfit friend’s heart at 16 she regrets it everyday even after she graduates though she knows she can’t go back and change what happened. Everything changes when over 10 years later she meets the gorgeous mechanic.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex, angst but not really??

Words: 2054

A/N: Hey guys, hope you’re all living your best lives! Can you believe we’re on part fourteen already?! There is probably only going to be about five more parts so I hope you enjoy this part and please let me know what you think! I love you all very much xxx

Part Fourteen

Four months had passed since the night on the beach and Darcie couldn’t be happier than she was right now, she’d met her soulmate and she’d managed to miraculously snag a weekend off of work. Though, there was one thing that was worrying her and it had been for a while, she hadn’t been on her period for about a month and a half, though that could have been down to stress – she certainly hoped so. However, to be on the safe side she’d bought a pregnancy test to take, she was very sure that everything would be okay. After all, she hadn’t got any symptoms just yet.

When Bucky snuffled like a baby in his sleep Darcie was pulled out of her intruding thoughts and she grinned down at the angelic man sleeping beside her. His long thick eyelashes made shadows on his cheeks and his hair splayed around his head like a halo. Darcie dropped a light kiss on his forehead before she slid out from underneath the warm covers and she padded into the bathroom to take her test.

She peed on the little stick and placed the pregnancy test on the counter as she bit into her bottom lip and paced the length of the bathroom, trying to distract herself and she threw some cold water onto her face. The alarm that she’d set on her phone beeped, signalling that the agonising two minutes were up. She mustered all the strength and courage that she had and she got up to wander over to the bathroom counter and picked up the pregnancy test. Taking a deep breath, she nervously looked down at the results, gasping as she saw the little blue plus on the tiny screen. Darcie was pregnant.

A sudden wave of sickness washed over her before she bent over the toilet to throw up into it. Grimacing, she wiped her mouth and held her stomach; she didn’t know how she was going to even begin to tell Bucky. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d make the best father but they hadn’t got to the part where they had talked about having kids. Darcie had to be 100% sure before she said anything to anybody so she shot a message over to Peggy to book an appointment. She decided that she would tell Peggy about her suspicions in person; she couldn’t explain it over a text message. She shook her head quickly and stuffed the pregnancy test in the bin, covering it with toilet roll and makeup wipes, technically she wasn’t lying to Bucky but she still felt a little bit guilty.

“Baby?” Bucky’s tired voice sounded through the bathroom door, making her jump, “come back to bed,” he whined and Darcie giggled, she could practically hear the pout in his voice.

“Coming handsome,” she smiled, flushing the toilet as he checked her reflection, making sure that she wasn’t too pale before opening the door to a gorgeous half naked Bucky with tired eyes.

He made grabby hands at her and he wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head in the crook of her neck. Darcie giggled before wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she walked him backwards towards the bed. Bucky huffed out a laugh as Darcie landed on his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Darcie giggled down at him as she placed her hands on his warm chest and she leaned down to kiss him gently. Out of habit Bucky’s hands found the curve of her hips and he eagerly kissed her back. They were interrupted when Darcie’s cell phone rang and Bucky mumbled against her lips.

“Baby, please ignore it,” he pouted when she pulled away from him and kissed his nose with an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry gorgeous, it might be important,” she reached for her phone and checked the caller ID before she picked the phone up, “hey mom,” she greeted and got up off of Bucky, running a hand through her messy tangle of hair, “how are you?”

“I’m fine thank you my darling. How are you?” her mom’s voice sounded chipper and cheery but that was just to mask the nervous undertones.

Darcie chewed her lip and thought back to the earlier events of the day and the positive test result swam in her mind, “y-yeah mom, I’m great! So, how come you’re calling this early?” there was a second of hesitation and it was so quiet on her mom’s end of the phone that Darcie swore that she could hear her mom swallow nervously, “mom?” Darcie prompted.

“Your Aunt Katie is back in town with Pierre, her husband, they’re coming round tonight for dinner and Katie wants to meet Bucky. Your father isn’t too happy about it but Katie always gets her own way.”

Darcie sighed and turned round to face Bucky who was watching her with confused eyes, “so, you’re inviting Bucky and I over for dinner tonight?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Bucky, seeing if he wanted to. Bucky shrugged his shoulders and nodded, making a non-committal noise; if they didn’t go then Darcie would never hear the end of this from Katie. Katie would think that she didn’t even have a boyfriend, “what time mom?”

“About half 6 baby, that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Mom listen, I gotta go okay? I’ll see you later, I love you.”

“Love you too Darc, see the both of you tonight,” her mom replied and Darcie could hear the overwhelming relief in her voice, did she expect Darcie to make a scene or something? Darcie smiled and hung up the phone before joining Bucky back on the bed, resting her head on his chest.

“So, dinner with your parents tonight?” he asked uneasily as he traced circles into the skin of her shoulder.

“Yeah, my Aunt wants to meet you. But if you really don’t want to then I can call my mom right back an-“her rambling was cut off by Bucky kissing her deeply.

“We’ll go baby, don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

Bucky and Darcie had planned on going out for breakfast that morning but after a couple of rounds of incredible sex they decided that they couldn’t be bothered to move from the bed. So they settled on chocolate chip pancakes smothered with bacon grease instead. Darcie almost moaned when Bucky licked the grease off of his fingers and she was almost ready to jump his bones again but somehow she managed to restrain herself.

Meanwhile, she received a text off of Peggy telling her that she had an opening in a couple of hours’ time and she hoped that Darcie was okay. Darcie’s heart lurched in her chest and it dropped to the pit of her stomach as she read the words on the screen. Earlier it had seemed like such a good idea to get an appointment with Peggy but now she’d rather not know. Bucky must have seen the frown on her face because she felt a pair of warm, slightly chapped lips press against her forehead. She looked up from her cell phone to see Bucky’s beaming face and he offered her a cheeky wink.

“Are you okay baby? It looked like you went somewhere just now,” Bucky smiled, pulling her into his arms, his chin resting on her shoulder and Darcie quickly exited out of the message app on her phone.

“Yeah, I’m fine baby,” Darcie closed her eyes contently as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“What have you got planned before the dreaded dinner tonight baby?” he chuckled and Darcie chewed her lip and shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’ve got an appointment at the hospital because I haven’t been feeling too great,” she paused when Bucky’s arms tightened around her slightly, “what about you?”

“Do you need me to come with you to your appointment?” Bucky asked and Darcie shook her head, he couldn’t come with her, “well, I’ll probably try and actually get some work done for once,” he chuckled and Darcie turned her head slightly to kiss him on the cheek.

“You know I love you, no matter what happens right?” she asked him and Bucky nodded, giving her a strange look.

“I know you do baby, and I love you too.”

Nerves were causing havoc in Darcie’s stomach as she sat in the room where Peggy was going to be giving her the ultrasound. Hopefully she was just feeling off from nerves and it wasn’t morning sickness or anything like that. Darcie wanted children but not right now, she wasn’t ready. She was too focused on her career at the minute to be worried about having to raise a kid. After a couple more minutes the door opened and Peggy walked in with a smile on her face.

“Sorry about that sweetie,” she said as she sat down, “now, what’s the problem honey?”

“Remember a couple of months ago when I needed antibiotics for my migraines?” she continued when Peggy nodded, “well because of the medication it stopped my pill from working. I stupidly said to Bucky that we could still have unprotected sex. I mean there’s not really a high chance of getting pregnant but now…” she trailed off, unable to finish.

“Have you missed a period?” Peggy sighed when Darcie nodded, “okay, well let’s have a little look,” she smiled comfortingly and put the cold jelly on Darcie’s stomach, Peggy chewed her lip as she looked at the screen, “congratulations sweetheart.”

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There was a very awkward atmosphere in Darcie’s parent’s dining room, Darcie’s Aunt had been flirting with him all night and now she was leering at him from across the table while her husband shot him filthy looks. Darcie’s mom made forced conversation which made it more awkward, Darcie was playing with her food, not touching a thing and her dad looked like he wanted to kill him.

“So, are you guys doing anything nice in the next couple of weeks?” Darcie’s mom asked as she took a sip from her wine glass.

Darcie didn’t even look up from her plate – she was acting really weird tonight and Bucky had absolutely no idea why. Bucky cleared his throat, “we’re going to my friend’s wedding in about a months’ time, aren’t we sweetie?”

Darcie looked over at him and smiled but Bucky noticed that it didn’t reach her eyes, “we are baby, can’t wait,”

“Darcie, are you sure that you don’t want any of this delicious wine? Pierre brought it special from one of his vineyards, I thought white wine was your favourite,” Katie asked and Bucky fought the urge to roll his eyes, of course the smarmy big headed idiot had his own vineyard that was just typical. Bucky was willing to bet that Darcie’s dad loved him.

“No thank you, I don’t feel like drinking tonight.”

“Or eating apparently,” her dad joked, smoothing a hand through her hair as Darcie made a face at him, “how’s business going Barnes?” he asked not in a kind tone.

“Business is booming sir,” Bucky said as he placed a little bit of the delicious steak in his mouth and took his time chewing it, knowing that it would piss the ex-cop off, “it seems like everybody in the city are always having problems with their cars,” Bucky raised an eyebrow and out of the corner of his eye he could see Darcie, glaring at both him and her dad, willing them both to stop.

“Well, if there is one thing I’m glad of is the fact that you actually have a job and you seem to be more capable of taking care of my daughter than you were in high school, but that’s not saying much,” his lips were twisted into a sneer. Bucky opened his mouth to throw back a snarky retort but both he and Darcie’s dad were startled when Darcie banged her hand on the table.

“That’s enough! Both of you!” she shouted and Bucky was shocked to see that she had tears in her eyes and Bucky’s hand made its way across the table to take her hand, an apologetic look on his face. If he had to fight with Darcie’s father as long as he dated Darcie then he was content to fight him forever.

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@theonelittleone @void-imaginations @panic-naran @harryngtonewithyourshit @thesswintersoldier @dreamacoholic @wavyjassy @iamariotgrrl

[austinpanda]

Dad Letter 032821

28 March, 2021

Dear Dad--

Happy Sunday to you! It’s been an uneventful week, because the casino people still have me in hurry-up-and-wait mode. They were doing the background check and the pee test. Both tests should have come back with boringly predictable results; I have no criminal background, and I have no crimes in my whizz, either. They gave me a packet of information about the pee test, including lists of what they test for. They seem to test for alcohol, which is weird, but I guess the test is to determine if you have a lot of it inside you at that moment. Because if you can’t sober up for an 8:00 a.m. pee test, I suppose it indicates a potentially interesting personal life…?

So I’ve been spending my time cleaning all the things that don’t normally get cleaned, in case it’s a long time before I can clean them again. For example, I scrubbed the bathtub, cleaned the light bulbs in the bathroom, and waxed my car, Beige Lightning. I probably wouldn’t worry about keeping a 13 year old Hyundai waxed and shiny, except I own some Turtle Wax, and what the hell? I can watch the rain water bead up on the hood while I’m quarantining. I don’t wax the whole thing, just the upward-facing surfaces, like the hood and roof and trunk lid. Waxing the doors feels too fastidious for me. My thinking is that if you wax the parts where the rain will bead up, people will just assume you waxed the doors, too. Now I just need it to rain, so I can watch all the beads forming and feel like a proud motorist.

If it seems like I’m already straining to come up with a topic of conversation, I must admit, I thought I’d be working by now, so I didn’t plan much over the past week. I’m still unvaccinated, but the process seems to be accelerating tremendously, and it’s beginning to look like I’ll get my shot within maybe a week or two? With Zach getting his shot no more than a month after that. Downside of marrying someone of an earlier generation: I qualify as “old enough to get a vaccine,” while Zach does not. We can’t exactly start partying with our friends until we both get the shot, but it sounds like it’s going to be a glorious day when everyone we know has been vaccinated. I miss restaurants, and buffets, and movie theaters! Life returning to normal, kinda.

Oh, I made pad thai! I get the impression that there was a period in the past when making pad thai was more popular, like the fondue sets of the 1970s. I’ve always liked pad thai, no matter which restaurant made it, but I never attempted to cook it myself, because it’s a complicated dish. It has a lot of ingredients, including a few that I’d never buy otherwise, like bean sprouts (stupidly perishable), and fish sauce. Fish sauce is the most disgusting-smelling thing I’ve ever had in my kitchen, or my nose, for that matter. I was not looking forward to spending money to get an ingredient that I’d otherwise consider about as edible as enriched plutonium. But, I appealed to my inner Vulcan, and logic told me: Fish sauce, while repellant in every way, is present in every pad thai recipe I’ve found. It suggests that fish sauce has always been included in the pad thai, so maybe I should just trust the recipe and buy the stupid nasty sauce. My deduction was correct! You add fish sauce, but you also add rice vinegar, soy sauce, and brown sugar, things that ameliorate the smell of the fish sauce, and make it just another delicious ingredient.

When I had completed making the pad thai on Wednesday, I’d have to say it was a partial success. I had included too much pasta, and the flavor was a bit bland. But it was okay. The thing is, when I was packaging up the leftovers, I grabbed a big handful of the noodles and threw them away. Apparently, this made the leftovers exactly perfect, and Zach and I ate the leftovers with more zeal and yummy noises than we had the first time around. Now I want to make the dish again, because I know how much pasta (rice noodles, aka rice sticks) to use, and I can get all the ratios correct from the start. Kind of exciting, because I always viewed the dish as too lovely and complicated to make myself. Now I don’t need a restaurant to make me pad thai, because I found a recipe that allows me to do it at home.

I saw a good documentary about a plane crash lately! This one was a plane full of French people, which disappeared over the open ocean a few years back. Some wreckage came to the surface and was gathered up. Then they started doing searches underwater to find the plane, which took a long time. Eventually they found it, and found the two black boxes. Because I’m a plane crash nerd, I know that the black boxes are actually bright orange, to make them easier to find amid plane wreckage, and they’re not even boxes. And there’s two of them: the flight data recorder, which keeps track of plane and flight data, and the CVR, the Cockpit Voice Recorder, where they can listen to what everyone was saying in the cockpit.

After years, when they finally found the plane under water and got the two black boxes, they figured out what had happened. This, really, is the part of the generic plane crash story that grabs my attention and makes me want to learn more: when they piece together all the evidence and come up with a detailed timeline that shows everything that happened, and everything that went wrong. What happened this time? Well, a little probe thingy that sticks out of the fuselage and measures something (maybe airspeed?) got coated in ice and started giving shitty data. The plane recognized this and took itself off of autopilot. The flight crew, not knowing what was going on, and in possession of shitty airspeed information, put the plane in a nose-up attitude, but didn’t give it enough power. We all know what happens when you run out of power while going uphill in an airplane, right? Stall! The plane stalled, which kind of doomed their dumb asses.

Because it was at night, and because the pilot and the rest of the flight crew didn’t figure it out in time, the plane stalled. This means it stops moving forward like a plane, and just starts dropping like a rock. But as it drops it still maintains the same nose-up attitude, and because of that, and the fact that you’re obviously still moving, it can be hard to detect that you’re in a stall. This is where I need to learn more about this accident if I don’t want that part to bug me, because they stalled the plane, and then they just flew along happily, dropping like a rock, until they hit the ocean. Did no one notice that the altimeter was showing the plane falling to the earth with invigorating speed? Was there no audible alarm saying, “Stall! Stall! Do something, dumbasses! You're in a stall!” The good news about flying happily into the ocean, however, is that it’s unlikely that everyone died in a terrorized panic. Plane’s still pointed forward, still moving through the air, no worries. Beats getting sucked out of a hole in the plane and falling to your death, am I right?

I have recently rewatched a made-for-TV movie that used to scare the bejesus out of me as a kid: The Ghost of Flight 401. Remember that? This plane crashes into the Everglades. (Why did it crash? They focused so much of their attention trying to diagnose what was actually just a light bulb problem with their landing gear indicator light, that they experienced a brief period of, “Oops, no one’s flying the airplane,” and they crashed.) In the made-for-TV-movie, one of the flight crew was Ernest Borgnine. And after the crash, they recycled some parts from the crashed plane and installed them in planes still in service. Then dead Ernest Borgnine comes back and starts scaring the shit out of everyone in the planes that got the flight 401 plane parts! All based on a TRUE STORY.

It was the ghost of Ernest Borgnine that used to scare the hell of me. And the movie was spooky as fuck, and it came out in 1978 when I was nine years old, and for a made-for-TV-movie, it was really well done! If you recall, because I know we watched this when it aired originally, the movie ends when some of the people affected (including an Asian flight attendant woman, who’s stood out in my memory ever since) get together and have a seance to encourage dead Ernest Borgnine, and anyone else listening, to move on, and stop haunting our airline passengers, pretty please. You know, you can watch this whole thing on YouTube for free, whenever you want? I find it less terrifying now that I’m 52 years old, but it’s still refreshingly creepy.

Okay, time to wrap this up. Perhaps by this time next week I’ll have started my casino job! Either that, or at least heard back from them to bring in my gaming license application and get my ID photo taken. Hope the spring has sprung! All my love to you both!

[leigh-kelly]

69 "You're teasing me again" For in the nyu!au verse please :)

A continuation of this.

Brittany passes her makeup test in Dr. Corcoran’s class. Santana kisses her for like an hour after she gets her grade back, and Brittany thinks that maybe, if that’s the cost of having to take a test again, she’ll take it. She feels really good about herself afterward, and to thank Santana, she takes her out to dinner at the restaurant in Little Italy where they’d gone on one of their earliest dates. It feels good to have someone to share big things with, and she’s glad that someone is Santana.

Because the next day is Friday, she manages to convince Santana to go out. She doesn’t usually want to, and is perfectly happy in Santana’s room watching a movie...or not watching a movie, but it’s Artie’s birthday, and everyone is going to Dallas BBQ for dinner and margaritas. She’s yet to really introduce Santana to her friends, since she’s shy around new people, and just doesn’t love being in big groups, but she wants to. She wants everyone to know how crazy she is about this girl, and she thinks it’s going to go really well.

Everyone else is going to the bar afterward, but despite Santana’s insistence that Brittany go, she decides not to. She doesn’t want to go home late at night and sleep alone. She wants to go back to Santana’s room and sleep with her. With Rachel now off at her new boyfriend’s all the time, Brittany has really gotten used to that, and although she used to love going out and getting drunk, now she’d just rather fall asleep at eleven o’clock while Santana clings to her neck.

“Hey babes, are you ready?” Brittany bursts into Santana’s room, wearing jeans and long sleeve t-shirt so Santana doesn’t feel underdressed with the rest of them in club attire for their after party.

“Almost!” Santana calls from the bathroom. “I just got my stupid period, so I wanted to shower, and my hair is kind of...everywhere.”

“Come out, I’m sure you look cute.”

“Just give me five minutes. Play on my computer if you want.”

Not wanting to stress Santana out, since she’s sure she already is about the social situation, Brittany listens to her. She sits down at her desk, and she scrolls through Santana’s Tumblr page. Santana never minds that she does, and Brittany likes seeing the occasional selfie of them mixed in with the gifs of Rizzoli and Isles, and whoever the other lesbians Santana blogs about are. Brittany goes through a few pages before she finds the last one Santana posted, of the two of them laying on the floor in the library, after Brittany came to find Santana working there the other day. Back before they’d started dating, Santana had made a bunch of posts about her, confessing her crush to her followers, and though Brittany has since seen them, it always makes her smile when she sees their selfies tagged hot girl in 516 and the real actual love of my life. 

She scrolls for awhile longer, just grinning to herself at the little stories about her that Santana posts, and then finally, Santana comes out of the bathroom. Her curly hair is pulled back with a clip, and she wears a light blue flannel over dark jeans. Brittany knows that she has absolutely no idea how sexy she is, but that’s okay. It’s part of what makes everything about her so endearing, she doesn’t know the kind of effect she has on Brittany.

“You okay? I know the first day of your period always really sucks.”

“I’m okay. I’ve got one of those crappy stick on heating pads going on right now. I’ll switch to my regular one when we get back.” Santana shrugs.

“You’re sure you’re okay to go? I don’t want to pressure you or anything.”

“I appreciate that, Britt, but I’m good. I know you want me to come, and once I get a Diet Coke and a chicken wing, I’ll be totally fine.”

“Okay, but if—“

“Stop being so cute and worrying about me. I’m good, I want to hang out with your friends, even though I’m pretty sure I’ll have nothing in common with them.”

“Doubtful, Artie is a total closet superhero nerd. He also holds the world record in Angry Birds. He thinks he’s really cool, but trust me, it’s an act.”

“Well that’s actually reassuring.” Santana puts her coat on, and Brittany watches her readjust the heating pad in her pants. “Let’s go.”

They take the subway uptown, and Santana leans her head on Brittany’s shoulder. Brittany likes when she does that, even though she feels bad that it means Santana probably has nasty cramps. When they get out at 23rd Street, Brittany puts her hand on Santana’s lower back, in the spot she knows she usually gets pains. They walk together to the restaurant, and when they get inside, Artie is there with Mercedes, Sugar, and a bunch of people Brittany doesn’t know. 

Brittany pulls out a chair for Santana, between herself and Mercedes. While Brittany does order a margarita, since she has a fake ID, and it’s been a long time since she’s had a drink, she makes sure Santana gets her Diet Coke. She feels bad that Santana is really crampy, but when she starts conversing with Mercedes, who apparently has a class with her, Brittany feels a little better. She just wants her to have a good time, and not feel like she’s dragged along while Brittany enjoys herself. 

The night actually goes really well, but though everyone tries to convince them to come out, Brittany says no so Santana doesn’t have to. Santana doesn’t have a fake ID anyway, and considering she hates to dance, Brittany knows the club will be an absolute nightmare for her. Brittany doesn’t feel any sense of loss about not going, she did just go out with them all last week when Santana was studying, and since this is the rare weekend when Santana isn’t actually swamped with work, Brittany wants to spend the time with her. 

“It was great meeting you, Santana.” Artie pulls her in for a hug. “We thought Brittany made you up, so it’s good to see you’re actually real.”

“Hey! I can assure you I’ve never made up a girlfriend in my life. Sorry Santana’s so busy kicking ass at school to hang out with you losers.”

“Be nice.” Santana laughs, flicking Brittany. “Maybe we can all meet up for breakfast soon, or something.”

“As long as it’s not tomorrow, I’m down. I’ll be sleeping off turning nineteen for the entire weekend.”

“Well.” She shifts between her feet, and Brittany presses her hand into her lower back. “Have fun. Mercedes, I’ll see you in class on Tuesday.”

“You got it! Maybe Dr. Martinez will like me, now that I’m friends with the class star.”

“He likes you.” Santana shakes her head. “He just takes awhile to warm up.”

“Happy birthday, Artie.” Brittany hugs him.

“Thanks for coming. I’m glad we finally got to meet the phantom girlfriend. She’s great, really.”

“Isn’t she though?” 

“Just have to make fun of you for how moony you are over her.”

“Whatever, don’t care.”

As they leave the restaurant, Brittany clasps Santana’s hand. Brittany is almost totally sober, having stuck to the one giant margarita, but she’s a little playful, poking at Santana’s side with her thumb, making her laugh as they board the subway. She’s really glad that she had a good time, and that she didn’t feel uncomfortable around Brittany’s boisterous friends. When they’re seated, Santana lays her head on Brittany’s shoulder again, and inhales sharply.

“Are you still hurting?”

“Unfortunately. I was okay at dinner, I guess because I wasn’t thinking about it, but I feel like crap again now.”

“Wanna lay in bed and I’ll go get you ice cream?”

“We can just stop on the way, you don’t have to go out specifically to get it for me when we’re going to pass like four stores.”

“Are you just afraid I won’t bring you your fancy hazelnut dark chocolate gelato?”

“You’re teasing me again about being an ice cream snob?”

“Me, teasing you? Never.” Brittany grins, and gives Santana a quick kiss on the temple. “I’m sorry you’re feeling gross.”

“It’s fine.” Santana waves her off. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Did you, really?”

“I did, really. I never put together that Mercedes in my class was your friend Mercedes, which was pretty dumb on my part, since it’s not exactly a common name.”

“I’m glad you liked her. We roomed together for orientation, and she’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I’d definitely hang out with them again. I’m totally socially inept, coming up with conversation topics, but since they all never stop talking, it’s easy for me.”

They get off the subway, and Brittany insists on paying for Santana’s ice cream and bag of Snickers bites. Immediately upon getting back to her room, Santana changes into her pajamas and plugs in the heating pad. Brittany never gets bad periods, so she doesn’t really comprehend how painful it is for Santana, but she always tries to take care of her by rubbing her belly when she’s in pain, and holding her when she cries about absolutely nothing.

“Ugh.” Santana flops back on the bed, ripping the disposable heating pad off her abdomen and tossing it in the trash. “I’m so bloated and feel disgusting.”

“Ice cream and getting your cuddle on will make it better.”

“It does help, that’s for sure.”

[sorceressassassin]

Dr. Todoroki’s Heart

This is based on the BNHA Med Au by @perdizzion .

  Shouto knew something was off with his head nurse when he started to pour salt into his coffee cup instead of sugar. Izuku had been working the late shift the last 5 nights in a row and there had been a bug going around the pediatrics ward so it was no surprise that eventually one of them would catch what their patients have. “Midoriya? That’s the salt.”

  That jolted Izuku out of his daze “Oh yeah…oops…Sorry Doc.” He replied as Shouto went over to get him another mug.

  “It’s ok you’ve been working pretty late all this week.” Shouto said as he handed Izuku the new mug and took the old one to rinse it free of salted coffee “Although that’s probably how Bakugou takes his coffee with how salty HE is. Saltier than my oldest brother sometimes.” He thought to himself. Izuku successfully poured the sugar into his coffee this time sitting down in one of the chairs with a groan.

  “We need better chairs. Better padding and all.” He comments before drinking the hot liquid soothing the ache in his throat.

  “We can bring it up at the next staff meeting.” Shouto says sitting with his own cup watching how flushed Izuku looks and noting the slight glassiness to his eyes. “Ok so the steam from the coffee could cause the flush and the glassiness is from being tired but…it’s more likely he’s sick. But how can I be sure? I mean I could ASK him but…would he think I don’t think he can do his job then?” a harsh cough breaks Shouto from his thoughts seeing Izuku hacking into his sleeve.  Shouto moves closer to rub his back through the fit.

  Once the coughing subsided Izuku groaned again rubbing his throat, “Stupid cough…” he muttered before looking at Shouto, “Midoriya? How long have you had this cough?” Shouto asked not in the “Dr. Todoroki” voice but in the “Midoriya we have known each other since med school and I care about your health” voice.

  Izuku sighs and taking a chance leans closer to Shouto’s shoulder, “Since last night. It kept me up all night so I probably got maybe two hours worth of sleep before I had to get up.” Shouto nods and sips his coffee before placing his right hand on Izuku’s forehead.

  Izuku winces at the initial contact but almost immediately he sighs contently as the cold from Shouto’s right hand alleviates a bit of the hot dizziness.

  “Mido…Izuku you have a fever. If I had to guess it’s probably close to 100*f, so it may be best if you lie down until I can get someone to cover your shift.” Shouto says adjusting his position so Izuku can lean on him more comfortably glad that right now they’re the only ones in the break room which probably won’t last long. But for right now? They’re alone.

  Laying his head on Shouto’s right shoulder Izuku’s eyes slip shut briefly, “He’s right but I don’t want to let him down. Or my patients. But man…this is nice just…so cold.” He thinks as he drinks a little more coffee so it doesn’t go to waste which MIGHT be counterproductive to the whole “lie down and rest” thing.

  “Izuku? Is it ok if I bring you into my office so you can rest? We should also check how high your fever actually is. Is that alright?”

  Izuku opened his eyes the feverish look and pale flushed cheeks made Shouto’s heart break a bit seeing his head nurse slash crush like this. “If this was one of those shoujo manga Fuyumi reads I’d probably take him home myself and care for him. Hell if I had my own practice I’d probably do that! But I don’t and this isn’t a manga. So the next best thing? Let him sleep on my office couch until I can A. Get someone to cover his shift and B. Ask someone to take him home.” He thought to himself as Izuku held his hand to his forehead.

  “Ok shoucchan.” Izuku replied using the old nickname from school.

  Shouto did his best to not blush OR light anything on fire with his left side. He’s done that once before when all Izuku did was smile and wave at him…his clipboard thankfully survived along with the files on it. Now he helped Izuku get to his office bringing their mugs along also.

  Once in his office he sets Izuku down on the couch and goes to his desk setting his coffee mug down before looking for a blanket to let Izuku borrow but so far he wasn’t turning up one so he took his id off his lab coat and attached to his shirt pocket and placed the coat around Izuku’s shoulders. “I couldn’t find a blanket so will this do for now?”

   Izuku wished his nose wasn’t so stopped up right now so he could SECRETLY smell the lab coat and figure out what cologne Shouto wore but fate was cruel. “It’s fine. Thanks shoucchan.” He replied tugging the coat around himself a bit more. Shouto nodded, turning back from the couch to find his first aid kit he kept in his office for minor things like burning his right hand somehow or covering a small cut.

  Izuku laid down on the couch using the throw cushion as a pillow while Shouto got out the first aid kit. Shouto quickly located the thermometer checking that the battery was working before returning to Izuku’s side. “Can you sit up? Or would you rather lay down still?” he asked kneeling down in front of the couch.

  “I’m ok with laying down still. Head hurts a little less that way.” Izuku replied looking at Shouto through his bangs.

  Shouto nodded, “Ok this should only take a minute.” He said as he put the thermometer into Izuku’s mouth and out of habit and training pressed his fingers to the pulse point on Izuku’s wrist noting how it jumped slightly as he did that. “That’s odd why would his pulse jump like that and is he getting redder?”

  Izuku blushed furiously as Shouto sat by him embarrassed how his heart sped up at the simple contact of his freaking PULSE being taken. “Thank god Ochako isn’t here to see this. I would NEVER live it down! “

  The beep from the thermometer broke them both out of the daze they had been in. Shouto took it out and checked the readout, “100.2*f guess I was two tenths of a degree off.” He said half to himself making Izuku smile a little before coughing. Shouto rubbed his back as best he could. “Do you want me to get you something for that Izuku? Or would you rather wait until you’re home in case you fall asleep?”

  It took Izuku a minute to catch his breath before answering, “Now please. And ask Ochako if she can take me home please? She starts her shift soon but’ he coughs again rubbing his chest to ease some of the pain, ‘She’d be ok with taking me home.”

  This put Shouto’s mind at ease as he got Izuku a water bottle and two of the cold pills from the first aid kit. “The urge to basically do a full check on him is great. But time is short before our rounds start so I have to call Uraraka to pick him up and get someone to cover his shift. “He thought to himself as he went back to the couch.

  Izuku sat up holding his scarred right hand out for the pills taking them and drinking from the water bottle once it was opened before lying back down. “Shouto’s gonna be busy soon. Who could cover my shift? Maybe Kei? It’s her day off though and she mainly deals in pediatric cardiology but she’s the only person I can think of.”

  Shouto sat at his desk to quickly called Uraraka and to check the schedule for the pediatric nurses to see who could cover Izuku’s shift, “Yes we’re in my office…Yes he’s actually laying down. About 100.2*F and he’s already taken medication for the fever and the cough. Thanks Ura..Ochako. See you soon.”  

  He ends the call with Ochako and looks over at the couch where Izuku’s lying curled up under the borrowed lab coat as best he can. “Ok who’s available to cover...?” Shouto mutters to himself.

  “Shouto? Call Kei. Pretty sure she can come in.” Izuku offers sleepily, his flushed cheeks clashing a tiny bit with his forest green hair.

  Nodding Shouto makes the call glad when Kei says she’ll come in to cover Izuku’s shift, now it was a matter of keeping Izuku company until Ochako got there and going over charts and forms.

  Looking over at Shouto Izuku smiles to himself, he’s really lucky Shouto was here early or else he probably would have passed out right into Kacchan getting his morning coffee or even Mr. Todoroki the mortician who usually only comes upstairs when his coffee maker breaks or to tease shouto. It’s really cute how Shouto’s cheeks turn pink when he’s embarrassed or how when he runs his hand in his hair it gets all mussed up and he looks like candy cane, “God I’m in love with you.”

  “You love me? And think I look like a candy cane?”

  Izuku SWEARS he can hear a record scratch as he looks up and sees Shouto smiling over him holding one of those gel pack stickers. “I…er…um..” He hides under the cover of the coat like a coward. “OH GOD HE HEARD ALL OF THAT?! WHY DO I SUCK SO MUCH AT NOT CATCHING MYSELF WHEN I MUTTER BEFORE THIS KIND OF STUFF HAPPENS?!”

  Smiling softly Shouto kneels down and rubs Izuku’s shoulder, “Izuku? I love you too. Probably since our second year in med school together. Or maybe during that hellish exam period where I accused you of being Mr. Yagi’s love child cause I hadn’t slept well in 4 days. But no matter when it started? I love you.”

  Face redder than the left part of Shouto’s hair from fever and embarrassment Izuku pokes his head out to look at Shouto, “That long huh? And…I’m not having some fever and medication induced dream…right?” the soft almost terrified question hurts Shouto deep down to hear.

  “I promise you Izuku. This isn’t a dream’, sticking the cold gel pack to Izuku’s forehead and picking up his scarred hand Shouto gently kisses the scars littering it, ‘This is really happening. If this was a dream? Well I’m pretty sure we’d be in our own practice or even…home together.” He finishes blushing as well now.

  Sitting up Izuku tugs Shouto up so he can kiss his cheek. “Sorry if you get sick cause of me. I can’t wait to kiss you properly Shoucchan.” He says with a smile.

  “Well if I get sick I hope you take good care of me Izuku.” Shouto said returning the smile glad Izuku blurted out he loved him. It felt like a weight was lifted knowing his crush wasn’t unrequited.

  “I will! I’ll make soup and everything since depending on how bad you might be you probably won’t be able to stomach your usual cold soba.” Izuku says before yawning.

  Shouto smiled hugging Izuku before he lies down again. “Hey Shouto? I love you.” Izuku says shutting his eyes as his head hits the cushion again.

  “I love you too Izuku. Now try to get some sleep before Ochako gets here.” Shouto says placing a kiss to Izuku’s forehead.

[anyhao-archived]

5 things tag meme

alright i was tagged by @actualprincejun (sorry this is so late! you’re the real mvp always tagging me in stuff ilu) to do the 5 things.... tag meme! this is gonna end up being long bc i tend to babble so i’ll put it under a readmore

5 things you’ll find in my bag:

it depends on if you mean backpack or purse. i’ll go with backpack bc that’s more interesting lol i’ll always have 

1) professional stuff like my wallet, school ID, textbooks, etc. along with a million pencils. seriously. idk why i have so many of them?? also my glasses

2) headphones, for obvious reasons lol i dont go anywhere w/o them. 

3) a pack of gum bc god knows i cant go through life without gum lol also for that reason where you can offer gum to people you dont know to socialize with them, PRO TIP FOR ALL YOU ENTERING COLLEGE bring gum so you can give some to your neighbors in class/partners, they’ll like you much better i promise. dont wait for them to ask, offer!!! 

4) i usually have a stash of extra tampons and pads on the off chance i get my period or someone needs one lol

5) a miscellaneous item. it changes by the day. sometimes itll be a bunch of plastic bags, or (most likely) food of some sort lol but ive also found a twenty dollar bill at the bottom of my backpack so its rly just... random. one time i found a gift card to borders, which is funny bc they had been out of business for years when i found that lmao

5 things you’ll find in my bedroom:

im a huge fan of collecting random shitty trinkets that are no use to me whatsoever, so i’ll pick my 5 favorites i guess lol which will likely be incredibly hard... im a hoarder

1) ive got a cute little plant that im convinced is dying, im sorry! the leaves are still green so... i guess its still alive at least a little bit

2) ive got a relatively big replica of the boats from like the 1400s, you know the ones with all those sails and you think of pirates when you see it? yeah thats it 

3) on my wall there’s a bunch of masquerade masks pinned up there, one of them is really nice, im surprised ive not broken it yet. along with the masks are some beautiful folding fans, the ones you always see in historical movies. they’re really breathtaking

4) OH I CANT FORGET ve got my day6 daydream album poster on my wall i love it to bits it just... fits my room so well. i didnt put my mamamoo or seventeen poster up bc day6 feels better in my room

5) ive also got a bunch of these weird... hand things. like ive got two porcelain sculptures of hands put together, holding palms up, like when youre trying to hold water in your hands. i use one of them to put my keys everyday so i know where they are. ones a coin holder. and ive also got a mini statue of just a regular hand and i put my necklaces/jewlery on the fingers to hold. its pretty cool

5 things I’ve always wanted to do in life:

1) SKY DIVING!!!!! i am determined to go sky diving before i die. coincidentally, when i get in a... bad .. mood i always remind myself of that pact and im like Alright....... and i feel less bad in that sense i guess. ive seriously wanted to do it for so long but never had the chance/money

2) become fluent in another language will always be one of my lifelong goals. once i learn one, i want to learn another. my problem is i just cant stick with one

3) live in a house with a secret room like with those bookshelves. man that would be cool

4) have all the weird pets. i want a pet rat, a pet iguana, a pet ferret, a parrot, lol that rhymed, you know all the good ones

5) travel, obviously

5 things I’m currently into:

1) writing. i dont think ill ever not be into writing, just my interest will fluxuate i suppose

2) making gifs! i just recently started that and with a friend’s help learned how to do quite a few things in photoshop, so im still trying to learn more about it

3) fuck if i know?? i dont have any interests unless i have 1 and im hyper aware of it

4) in that case kpop i guess

5) ???? someone please tell me who i am

5 things on my to-do list:

1) shower lmao i hate when i dont have stuff to do during the day bc i dont shower i just.... sit. and be on the computer. which is seriously not healthy for me ive found, its a big cause of mental health(TM)

2) get rid of this fucking acne holy shit its so stubborn i may cry ive been trying for months now with a couple different things and Nothing Is Working

3) start actually eating healthy and working out yikes i keep telling myself i will but its just so hard to get started. once im in a routine its fine but the starting.....

4) try to write something even if its just a sentence

5) idk, do my homework maybe and not screw myself over by waiting till the last minute. also i want to get out of the house. this ice storm & 4 day weekend is giving me cabin fever 

5 things people may not know about me:

1) what am i supposed to write here no ones gonna care enough to know these facts lol  i guess for this 1st one ill write that im way less optimistic than people usually think i am im just good at faking it

2) i like to think im good with reading people and knowing them, even if they dont know themselves. 

3) all my job aspirations are too much for me to handle. being a teacher actually wasnt my first choice, its just the one that hurts the least. i wanted to be a therapist, but knew i couldnt talk to a depressed patient without bursting into tears myself. i wanted to be a vet/doctor but i could never handle death. especially being a vet. i wanted to be a forensic analyist or fbi agent or something but that also deals with death and i just... cant. a teacher is realistic. it may not be what i want, but its what im going to be. wow i went on a long tangent there y i k e s

4) i am one of the few people that actually like their parents. they may not be perfect but i have so much to thank them for. also, my mom always told me that if i befriended someone who didnt like their mom/dad/parents that shes your mom now. lol i used to compare her to mrs clause bc thats the type of person she is shes chubby and constantly smells like cookies and smiles all the time and is just... happiness

5) my favorite thing in the world is buying/making presents!!!! bc its one of the only things im good at lol i love giving people presents because theyre always perfectly chosen, a story behind each thing. its the only time my hyperawareness of people and sentimental-ness comes in handy

okay wow that entire thing was long and took forever and tbh i probably said too much but whatever lol ill go ahead and tag a few people. as always, you dont need to if you dont want to! @jmplel @fishpun @whysuga @85milk @kiryues @jihyeon @alipurple

[notmynostalgia]

lets get personal

i got my period in 5th or 6th grade, when i was 11-12 years old. previously, my only worries had been homework and a boy i liked, but not anymore. from that time until i was 20, it lasted 10 days. a third of every month for ten years i spent bleeding (now its 7 days, so a fourth of every month, as it probably will be for another forty years). the few days leading up to it i had bloating and pms acne, sending my self esteem plummeting, and the days of i had terrible cramps and lower back pain that took my breath away and left me so nauseous and exhausted that if the first day came while i was at school or volleyball practice, i had to leave so i could go home and curl up on my bed with hot packs on my stomach and back and a bucket nearby in case i did actually puke. my chest was so sore i couldnt sleep on my stomach. sometimes just talking felt impossible.

i wore pads, not tampons, because i didnt like the way tampons felt. they hurt going in and coming out. once on vacation when i was 13 or 14 we were going to the beach but id started my period on only the second day we’d been there, so my mom gave me one of her super-jumbo tampons, because apparently hers was really heavy too. sitting on the toilet taking it out was one of the most painful experiences i had ever had. i grit my teeth and held my breath until i couldnt anymore and then i was sweating all over and so fucking scared i wouldnt be able to do it. but i did, because i had too.

i was also terrified of toxic shock syndrome, which happens when you leave a tampon in for too long, and it can kill you.

those kinds of things dont happen with pads, but they’re really not good for a lot of other things. when you get up from bed in the morning, the first thing you do is go to the bathroom because theres a chance you bleed through or around your pad, even though you slept the whole night on one side with your legs clamped together. moving around when you sleep can shift how the pad fits and if it isnt positioned just right, you can bleed through your underwear, pajamas, and onto your sheet. if you were shorts to bed, you may wake up with bloody fingers from itching down there while still half asleep. that happened to me about three times before i realized what was happening. i had to use q-tips to get the dried, caked blood from under my finger nails, and now i wear pants to sleep in. in the morning, as you stand, gravity pulls the blood that was pooling somewhere still inside you since you were lying horizontally, and you feel acutely clumps of blood somewhat solidified like gel, pass through you. and there is nothing you can do about it. you cant hold it in. you just have to feel it and accept it like everything else that comes with having a period. sometimes, this is still happening when you go sit down on the toilet and blood gets on the waistband on your shorts or pants and the toilet seat and maybe the bathroom floor. you have to try and gauge when there is a pause in the blood flow, and youre never always right. so now you have to get a clean change of underwear and pants, but you cant put the ones around your ankles back on because youd get blood on you in other places. so you take them off and hobble back to your bedroom with your legs close together so you dont bleed on the floor and hope that none of your family happens to come around the corner and see you. you get back to the bathroom and lock the door. you put a fresh pad - which will only last about 4 hours (so 5-6 pads a day for the first 2-3 days, then 3-4 for the next two, then 2-3 for the next two, and 1 for the last day), if you sit still and do nothing - on your fresh underwear. also, and i dont know why, but youll probably have diarrhea for the first few days of your period too.

playing sports with pads isnt fun. in high school for volleyball games, i had to wear actual underwear, because pads literally, physically cant work with thongs, and then spandex shorts over the underwear because i didnt want to have underwear lines and also for another layer of protection in case of leaks, and then our uniform shorts. nothing about it was comfortable. and obviously, you cant swim while wearing a pad, so youd better be sure to plan beach/swimming trips so they dont fall anywhere near your period, if you can. but they will anyway, because until youre in your twenties, your period will be irregular. mine changed every month by a few days, sooner or later. and sometimes, you think its over, youll go a couple hours with nothing, a clean pad, but then theres more. another day or two. so you were supposed to go hiking today but your period came early or started late and its just so much physical and emotional labor to try and deal with being a person while bleeding from your vagina and every complication that comes with it (like the pressure from a car seatbelt digging into your stomach even though its hardly touching you, like estimating how many pads youll need for the day and remembering to pack them, like having to change what you were going to wear to something loose-fitting like sweatpants and dark to conceal potential leaks) that you cancel.

in college, i played volleyball, and we had a strength and conditioning trainer we saw twice a week, but i continued to train with him for another year after volleyball ended. when i would start my period or be on the first, second, or third day, i would text him and say i wasnt feeling well or had the flu, because i wasnt sure how he’d react to me not coming in because i was on my period. for some reason, its embarrassing to have a period. we have to lie, we have to have good names like “aunt flo” “ketchup” ”monthly visitor”, even among fellow women. in high school and even college, i would have to wait until the bathroom was empty to open my pad because the packaging was so loud and i didnt want anyone to know, and sometimes that made me late for class or practice. we make sure no one’s looking when we pull “sanitary items” from our backpacks or bags; i would wear a sweatshirt and stick the pad up my sleeve so no one would notice. i would be in so much pain during class that i’d taken six midol over the course of the school day but still have to hold my stomach and try to think of anything else that if, if a teacher asked what was wrong or why i wasnt paying attention i would just say i didnt feel good. and your entire life if you show any emotion that a man deems part of an inappropriate reaction, youll have to deal with him thinking or asking if you’re on your period.

in the shower, you bend over and watch the blood run into the drain. youll have to wait for a pause in the flow to get out, dry off and hobble quickly to the toilet. sometimes youll sit down and see pink water droplets on the inside of your thighs where blood mixed with the shower water. you wipe them off before putting underwear on a new pad for the night.

the day before you start your period you might have just done laundry, but it came unexpectedly and theres blood all over you underwear and maybe your shorts or pants. do you waste the water and wash those two garments now in hope that they dont stain, or do you throw them in the laundry basket to be washed in a couple days with a full load?

when it comes to work, if im on my period for my fast food job, i cant call off, and we’re so short staffed that ill never find someone to cover me, so i work. at my desk job, im lucky enough to be able to sit with a hot pack and a cup of red raspberry leaf tea so i can make it through.

men will never know what its like to have a period and pretend that you dont.

[mantrabay]

Hitchhiker From Another World Part 1

Improvements and edits.

Saturday an overarching day that's both conduit and shelter for souls in transition.

Thoughts of the more disturbing kind may intrude.

Little did I know what lay ahead.

All these scenarios flashed across my mind as the wheels of my car screeched to a halt.

Shafts of radiant sunlight revealed a light green leaf entwined placard.

An obscure but apocryphal question -

Going somewhere?

A hitchhiker appeared with the most expressive eyes.

Like shining windows admitting the rush of a golden dawn.

Her rippling nuanced voice spoke.

“Hello, I'm Lelia. Life is a series of stops

and strange encounters.

A journey of some kind.”

Thought-provoking stuff!

She extended her supple silken right hand.

“Hop in.

I'm Joshua King. Going anywhere in particular?"

I enquired archly after the ritual handshake.

"Besides going somewhere or nowhere!”

I continued.

"In one sense I'm not sure.

But there is this place we should all go to.

You'll know what I mean later.”

Lelia mysteriously.

"Not to worry.

Travel is therapy for me."

What made me, Joshua King, say that?

The mind can be overpopulated with figments.

Frustrated figments waiting for that frenzied freedom dash.

This svelte lady wearing an azure padded jacket and sea blue denims glided gracefully into my car.

Hatha yoga asana entry.

My pinstripe attire seemed conventional

on a philosophical journey man.

"Love the aroma ....air freshener.

Orchard in a vehicle.

Symbol of attempted purge."

The hitchhiker's dulcet voice drooping.

Redolent of metaphysics classes I had to abandon.

I was naive enough to believe that attending these courses would fix my “issues.”

More than just momentary bugs.

They couldn't be spray canned away.

I was, however, adept at avoiding their resolution.

My “issues” were other "selves.”

I called them timid, anxious, fidgety ,scrupulous withdrawn.

“What’s more I chat to them.

These chats I call the "whispers.”

Will Lelia notice?”

My twin brother, Jonah, a twin in “every sense” could point to my tendency to flee.

We spotted each other’s flaws with aplomb.

Banter between mirror images of real selves!

Tortured twin psyches.

Jonah was an integral part of these "whispers" too!

All these thoughts were doing hula hoops in my head.

In the process peculiarities surfaced with Lelia..

"I'm Lelia again. Don't forget. You probably won't.

This place I alluded to is but a distance from here.

Distance is a gulf whose magnitude is shaped by its smoothness of passage.

Or the fate that awaits one.

My destination is another world altogether."

Lelia’s cryptic crossword setter.remark.

Tapping my shoulder she extended her hand again.

Her fingers and thumb spatially arranged with tutored

stillness.

Was that repetition a neurotic oddity or a symptom of a deeper malaise?

I nodded to the said hand gesture.

We both brushed this bizarre incident off.

The spot on asides and the strict avoidance of that verbal litter referred to as small talk suggested we should.

Pauses. They did surface periodically.

The silence was then punctuated by a sudden remark.

"All those conifers. Look at how they reach out to the sky.”

One of Lelia’s poetic observations.

“They seem so close yet isolated.

There is something almost within their grasp.

Almost.”

Lelia nonplussed.

“See the adjoining fields. The green is but a cover. They are as neighbours in a high rise flat.

One could say they are both connected and disconnected at the same time.”

Lelia resting her case.

“I'm a bit of a writer and maths researcher.”

I proffered.

"Recluses some say.

Oh, I didn't mean you

Necessarily.”

Ouch, said my shattered Id.

Lelia, archer of the scar inflicting jibe.

Bow and arrow baroness of stinging broadsides.

This offshoot to our conversation was infused with a wry allusion.

Insight on a whim.

We both laughed at the incongruity of a conversation that had become elliptical in form.

Tangents cropped up as impetus to the other person's willingness to reveal themselves.

Lelia didn't exactly volunteer her vocation but left clues.

“You didn't say what you did?

Student ...essayist ...author."

Me sounding Lelia out.

“Oh no children….dashing right across the road in front of us.

Squealing with delight. Whoops of innocent joy? They are sticking out their tongues now!”

Hair-raising moment I hadn't anticipated.

I spied Lelia sticking her tongue out at those reckless varmints.

She stopped the minute I noticed.

“Children …….sometimes you have to act like a kid when dealing with kids."

Straight and to the point from this hitchhiker.

She now resumed the thread of an earlier topic.

“Work ….you asked about work.

I sort of work and play with the mind.

Play act too.

A complex sudoku retort.

As I digested lelia’s response it dawned on me how much like people my "selves”were.

Even when driving I "dialogued” those various aspects.

“You've an interesting face. The face is like a map, I say.

Heard you mutter about your "selves."

Leslie being cheeky.

Silence as challenge started to creep in.

Russian roulette without rules.

Short story by mantrabay copyright protected

[mantrabay]

Hitchiker From Another World.

Saturday an overarching day that's both conduit and shelter for souls in transition.

Thoughts of the more disturbing kind may intrude.

Little did I know what lay ahead.

All these scenarios flashed across my mind as the wheels of my car screeched to a halt.

Shafts of radiant sunlight revealed a light green leaf entwined placard.

An obscure but apocryphal question -

Going somewhere?

A hitchhiker appeared with the most expressive eyes.

Like shining windows admitting the rush of a golden dawn.

Her rippling nuanced voice spoke.

“Hello, I'm Lelia. Life is a series of stops

and strange encounters.

A journey of some kind.”

Thought-provoking stuff!

She extended her supple silken right hand.

“Hop in.

I'm Joshua King. Going anywhere in particular?"

I enquired archly after the ritual handshake.

"Besides going somewhere or nowhere!”

I continued.

"In one sense I'm not sure.

But there is this place we should all go to.

You'll know what I mean later.”

Lelia mysteriously.

"Not to worry.

Travel is therapy for me."

What made me, Joshua King, say that?

The mind can be overpopulated with figments.

Frustrated figments waiting for that frenzied freedom dash.

This svelte lady wearing an azure padded jacket and sea blue denims glided gracefully into my car.

Hatha yoga asana entry.

My pinstripe attire seemed conventional

on a philosophical journey man.

"Love the aroma ....air freshener.

Orchard in a vehicle.

Symbol of attempted purge."

The hitchhiker's dulcet voice drooping.

Redolent of metaphysics classes I had to abandon.

I was naive enough to believe that attending these courses would fix my “issues.”

More than just momentary bugs.

They couldn't be spray canned away.

I was, however, adept at avoiding their resolution.

My “issues” were other "selves.”

I called them timid, anxious, fidgety ,scrupulous withdrawn.

“What’s more I chat to them.

These chats I call the "whispers.”

Will Lelia notice?”

My twin brother, Jonah, a twin in “every sense” could point to my tendency to flee.

We spotted each other’s flaws with aplomb.

Banter between mirror images of real selves!

Tortured twin psyches.

Jonah was an integral part of these "whispers" too!

All these thoughts were doing hula hoops in my head.

In the process peculiarities surfaced with Lelia..

"I'm Lelia again. Don't forget. You probably won't.

This place I alluded to is but a distance from here.

Distance is a gulf whose magnitude is shaped by its smoothness of passage.

Or the fate that awaits one.

My destination is another world altogether."

Lelia’s cryptic crossword setter.remark.

Tapping my shoulder she extended her hand again.

Her fingers and thumb spatially arranged with tutored

stillness.

Was that repetition a neurotic oddity or a symptom of a deeper malaise?

I nodded to the said hand gesture.

We both brushed this bizarre incident off.

The spot on asides and the strict avoidance of that verbal litter referred to as small talk suggested we should.

Pauses. They did surface periodically.

The silence was then punctuated by a sudden remark.

"All those conifers. Look at how they reach out to the sky.”

One of Lelia’s poetic observations.

“They seem so close yet isolated.

There is something almost within their grasp.

Almost.”

Lelia nonplussed.

“See the adjoining fields. The green is but a cover. They are as neighbours in a high rise flat.

One could say they are both connected and disconnected at the same time.”

Lelia resting her case.

“I'm a bit of a writer and maths researcher.”

I proffered.

"Recluses some say.

Oh, I didn't mean you

Necessarily.”

Ouch, said my shattered Id.

Lelia, archer of the scar inflicting jibe.

Bow and arrow baroness of stinging broadsides.

This offshoot to our conversation was infused with a wry allusion.

Insight on a whim.

We both laughed at the incongruity of a conversation that had become elliptical in form.

Tangents cropped up as impetus to the other person's willingness to reveal themselves.

Lelia didn't exactly volunteer her vocation but left clues.

“You didn't say what you did?

Student ...essayist ...author."

Me sounding Lelia out.

“Oh no children….dashing right across the road in front of us.

Squealing with delight. Whoops of innocent joy? They are sticking out their tongues now!”

Hair-raising moment I hadn't anticipated.

I spied Lelia sticking her tongue out at those reckless varmints.

She stopped the minute I noticed.

“Children …….sometimes you have to act like a kid when dealing with kids."

Straight and to the point from this hitchhiker.

She now resumed the thread of an earlier topic.

“Work ….you asked about work.

I sort of work and play with the mind.

Play act too.”

A retort of sudoku like complexity.

As I digested lelia’s response it dawned on me how much like people my "selves”were.

Even when driving I "dialogued” those various aspects.

“You've an interesting face. The face is like a map, I say.

Heard you mutter about your "selves."

Leslie being cheeky.

Silence as challenge started to creep in.

Russian roulette without rules.

“Watch your driving, there." Lelia being brash.

Her different voices now somersaulting.

“Very quite aren't we, Josh?"

Josh mark you!

Grilling me like an interrogator trying to crack a stubborn suspect.

Without a word of warning Lelia raised her voice and got into a tantrum.

“What's the matter ….lost something?”

Joshua said anxiously.

A curious search resembling a scrum ensued.

Then more silence.

I craned my neck and spotted an uncanny regression.

Lelia talking to herself in a child-like manner and then changing tack.

“Don't worry. Found what I was looking for.”

Another void.

A tense lull. A little lockjaw appears when the juice runs out of discourse.

I squinted in the mirror once more.

This time Lelia was talking to her palm.

Staring vacantly at it she kept repeating the name Linda.

Lelia continued oblivious to what I saw or might be thinking.

She hummed this strange lullaby.

Suddenly my "selves" surfaced in an uncontrollable flurry.

I tried to suppress them but failed abysmally.

The "whispers and selves" started to have a life of their own.

This car is getting a bit crowded.

It's being converted into a train with fantasy passengers on board.

The sort one hears late at night hurtling through the countryside as dim lights flicker.

Both inside and outside this vehicle a tumult of events was took place.

Out of the blue the rain poured heavily.

“The gods or the elements must be cross or something.” Lelia opined.

“Let’s get introduced to my playmate in a palm.

Linda, these are Joshua’s true other selves.”

Lelia chuckling.

A comic situation arose where I changed my voice for each of my "selves" by way of introduction.

My great powers of concentration helped while driving.

"Pleased to meet you, Linda.”

Lelia altered her voice when teasing all my "selves."

She had some experience as a ventriloquist.

But Lelia was having this hypnotic effect too.

I was being manipulated.

One by one my highly personalised complexes were being extracted and subject to a rigorous interrogation.

This was some hitchhiker.

Was this car journey now becoming a high rent farce or a mock therapy session from an amateur shrink?

The rain continued to lash and my other "selves" felt like the last sting of a dying wasp.

A certain lightness ensued.

Almost as if my “aspects” were floating away.

For the first time my "other selves“ didn't seem to have this grip on me.

But deep down I knew I wanted to keep a little of them.

Although they were a burden they did have their positive aspects.

“Jonah … he still bugs doesn't he.

He’s almost like one of those "other selves!"

The "whispers" I heard earlier … I've a very delicate ear.

Those under the breath "whispers" gave the game away.

The names and complex relations between them."

Lelia now probing very deeply.

The wind howled and seafront rain waves splashed across my bonnet

There was a warped synchronicity.

As my complexes receded so did the thunderous weather.

They were working in tandem.

“Wash it all away. Come on, come on

See me waving my wand.”

Lelia chanted.

The Exorcist film had nothing on this.

Before his very eyes Joshua's "reticence" and the other "selves" were disappearing virtually.

Against the backdrop of all this inner and outer cacophony Lelia kept looking out the window.

Was that this home she mentioned earlier getting closer as Joshua was

"going home” to himself?

“Windows are amazing.

They show us the world but sometimes screen us from it.”

Lelia notes.

fog from the car window.

“Trees and branches swaying. Clouds darkening.

Thickening ominously.

Exodus of pedestrians seeking answers.”

Her voice penetrating Joshua.

“Am I being cleansed of what they call inner demons?"

Joshua panic stricken.

"This other worldly person has me spellbound.

There's a chessboard in this moving vehicle.

A total stranger has me in her palm.” .

Lelia assumed various postures.

As Joshua was the driver she didn't want to send him to sleep.

Lelia's voice was either hypnotist's drone or excited sports commentator.

Joshua could never forget this encounter.

“Don't forget Jonah too. Joshua wherever he might be.”

Her sinister tone rising.

“The name on your credit card.

I found it earlier when searching for my script.

Joshua Jonah king.”

Joshua confessed he was an only child.

“Am I a prisoner?.

Must button my lip.

I'm being freed and incarcerated by this person, the likes of whom I've never met before.”

Joshua felt a final therapeutic process coursing through him.

Very little was left of his "selves,” whispers.”

Joshua drove through a stoically preserved area whose haunting nature was blurred by this encounter.

“Terrible to have all these half-worlds revealed with such clinical accuracy.”

Joshua to himself.

Lelia's voice gradually lost its domineering tone.

At this point by accident or design the tense atmosphere eased.

“You are probably wondering where this is all going to end.

Maybe I have whispers, Jonah's and selves to face too.”

A casual Lelia random comment.

On this occasion a composite of adult confidence and infantile charm.

“Oh here we are, this place.”

She stated.

Joshua had undergone some sea change catharsis.

“Should I thank Lelia or what?

Jonah my make-believe twin. Don't really need him do I?”

Joshua pondered.

“Back to earth my dear.

This is where we part.”

Lelia again.

“Better change the name on that credit card.

It could bug your company!”

Lelia cackles..

“See that building..

It's called “Another World School of Acting.”

Acting is therapy..

Therapy in every sense!

They are auditioning for a play

“Inside The Split Mind." She said.

"Wonder will I get the part?”

Lelia looked away sadly.

“Off I go. Enjoy yourself or yourselves or whatever is left of them.”

Lelia laughing through her tears.

“Better get out of here fast, Josh.” Joshua to himself.

“I'm beginning to sound like her.” Joshua now driving at top speed.

“It will be awhile before I offer someone a lift again.

I suppose I should be grateful to her.” Joshua’s face now a deep red.

"Well, Jonah, I guess I'm going to miss you and all those "issues" in a way.

But at least I can be myself …. sort of.”

Short story by mantrabay copyright protected.

Completion of earlier submission

[mantrabay]

Hitchhiker From Another World.

Hitchiker From Another World.

Saturday an overarching day that's both conduit and shelter for souls in transition.

Thoughts of the more disturbing kind may intrude.

Little did I know what lay ahead.

All these scenarios flashed across my mind as the wheels of my car screeched to a halt.

Shafts of radiant sunlight revealed a light green leaf entwined placard..

A cryptic but apocryphal question -

Going somewhere?

A hitchhiker appeared with the most expressive eyes.

Like shining windows admitting the rush of a golden dawn.

A rippling nuanced voice spoke.

“Hello, I'm Lelia. Life is a series of stops

and strange encounters.

A journey of some kind.”

Thought-provoking stuff!

She extended her supple silken right hand.

“Hop in.

I'm Joshua King. Going anywhere in particular?"

I enquired archly after the ritual handshake.

"Besides going somewhere or nowhere!”

I continued.

"In one sense I'm not sure. But there is this place we should all go to.

You'll know what I mean later.”

Lelia mysteriously.

"Not to worry.

Travel is therapy for me."

What made me, Joshua King, say that?

The mind can be overpopulated with figments.

Frustrated figments waiting for that frenzied freedom dash.

A svelte lady wearing an azure padded jacket and sea blue denims glided gracefully into my car.

Hatha yoga asana entry.

My pinstripe attire seemed conventional

on a philosophical journey man.

"Love the aroma ....air freshener.

Orchard in a vehicle.

Symbol of attempted purge."

Her dulcet voice drooping.

Redolent of metaphysics classes I had to abandon.

I was naive enough to believe that attending these courses would fix my “issues.”

They were more than just momentary bugs.

They couldn't be spray canned away.

I was, however, adept at avoiding their resolution.

My “issues” were other "selves.”

I called them timid, anxious, fidgety,scrupulous withdrawn.

“What’s more I chat to them.

These chats I call the "whispers.”

Will Lelia notice?”

My twin brother, Jonah, a twin in “every sense” could point to my tendency to flee.

We spotted each other’s flaws with aplomb.

Tortured psyche twins.

Banter between mirror images of real selves!

Jonah was an integral part of these "whispers" too!

All these thoughts were doing hula hoops in my head.

In the process peculiarities surfaced with Lelia..

"I'm Lelia, again. Don't forget. You probably won't.

This place I alluded to is but a distance from here.

Distance is a gulf whose magnitude is shaped by its smoothness of passage.

Or the fate that awaits one.

My destination is another world altogether."

Lelia’s cryptic crossword setter.remark.

Tapping my shoulder she extended her hand again.

Her fingers and thumb spatially arranged with tutored

stillness.

Was that repetition a neurotic oddity or a symptom of a deeper malaise?

I nodded to the said hand gesture.

We both brushed this bizarre incident off.

The spot on asides and the strict avoidance of that verbal litter referred to as small talk suggested as much.

Pauses. They did surface periodically.

The silence was then punctuated by a sudden remark.

"All those conifers. Look at how they reach out to the sky.”

One of Lelia’s poetic observations.

“They seem so close yet isolated.

There is something almost within their grasp.

Almost.”

Lelia nonplussed.

“See the adjoining fields. The green is but a cover. They are as neighbours in a high rise flat.

One could say they are both connected and disconnected at the same time.”

Lelia resting her case..

“I'm a bit of a writer and maths researcher.”

I proffered.

"Recluses some say.

Oh, I didn't mean you

Necessarily.”

Ouch, said my shattered Id.

Lelia, archer of the scar inflicting verbal.

Bow and arrow baroness of stinging broadsides.

This offshoot to our conversation was infused with a wry allusion.

Insight on a whim. Fleeting.

We both laughed at the incongruity of a conversation that had become very elliptical in form.

Tangents cropped up as impetus to the other person's willingness to reveal themselves.

Lelia didn't exactly volunteer her vocation but left clues.

“You didn't say what you did?

Student ...essayist ...author."

Me sounding Lelia out.

“Oh no children….dashing right across the road in front of us.

Squealing with delight. Whoops of innocent joy? They are sticking out their tongues now!”

Hair-raising moment I hadn't anticipated.

I spied Lelia sticking her tongue out at those reckless varmints.

She stopped the minute I noticed.

“Children …….sometimes you have to act like a kid when dealing with kids."

Straight and to the point from this hitchhiker.

She now resumed the thread of an earlier topic.

“Work ….you asked about work.

I sort of work and play with the mind.

Play act too.”

A retort of sudoku like complexity.

As I digested lelia’s response it dawned on me how much like people my "selves”were.

Even when driving I "dialogued” those various aspects.

“You've an interesting face. The face is like a map, I say.

Heard you mutter about your "selves."

Leslie being cheeky..

Silence as challenge started to creep in.

Russian roulette within the rules.

“Watch your driving, there." Lelia in a more down to earth tone.

Her different voices now somersaulting..

“Very quite aren't we, Josh?"

Josh mark you!

Sounding me out like an interrogator trying to crack a stubborn suspect.

Without a word of warning Lelia raised her voice and got into a tantrum.

“What's the matter ….lost something ?”

Joshua said anxiously.

A curious search resembling a scrum ensued.

Then more silence..

I craned my neck and spotted an uncanny regression.

Lelia talking to herself in a child like manner and then changing tack..

“Don't worry. Found what I was looking for.”

Another void.

A tense lull. A little lockjaw appears when the juice runs out of discourse.

I squinted in the mirror once more.

This time Lelia was talking to her palm..

Staring vacantly at it she kept repeating the name Linda.

Lelia continued oblivious to what I saw or might be thinking.

She hummed this strange lullaby..

Suddenly my "selves" surfaced in an uncontrollable flurry.

I tried to suppress them but failed abysmally.

The "whispers and selves" started to have a life of their own.

This car is getting a bit crowded.

It's being converted into a train with fantasy passengers on board.

The sort one hears late at night hurtling through the countryside with dim lights flickering.

Both inside and outside this vehicle a tumult of events was taking place.

Out of the blue the rain poured heavily.

“The gods or the elements must be cross or something.” Lelia opined.

“Let’s get introduced to my playmate in a palm.

Linda, these are Joshua’s true other selves.”

Lelia chuckling.

A comic situation arose where I changed my voice for each of my "selves" by way of introduction.

My great powers of concentration helped while driving.

"Pleased to meet you, Linda.”

Lelia altered her voice when teasing all my "selves."

She had some experience as a ventriloquist.

But Lelia was having this hypnotic effect too.

I was being manipulated.

One by one my highly personalised complexes were being extracted and subject to a rigorous grilling.

This was some hitchhiker.

Was this car journey now becoming a high rent farce or a mock therapy session from an amateur shrink?

The rain continued to lash and my other "selves" felt like the last sting of a dying wasp.

A certain lightness ensued.

Almost as if my “aspects” were floating away.

For the first time my "other selves“ didn't seem to have this grip on me.

But deep down I knew I wanted to keep a little of them.

Although they were a burden they did have their positive aspects.

“Jonah … he still bugs doesn't he.

He’s almost like one of those "other selves!"

The "whispers" I heard earlier … I've a very delicate ear.

Those under the breath "whispers" gave the game away.

The names and complex relations between them."

Lelia now probing very deeply.

The wind howled and the rain splashed across the bonnet like seafront waves.

There was a warped synchronicity..

As my complexes receded so did the thunderous weather.

They were working in tandem.

“Wash it all away. Come on, come on

See me waving my wand.”

Lelia chanted.

The Exorcist film had nothing on this.

Before his very eyes Joshua's "reticence" and the other "selves" were disappearing virtually.

Against the backdrop of all this inner and outer ferment Lelia kept looking out the window.

Was that this home she mentioned earlier getting closer as Joshua was

"going home” to himself?

“Windows are amazing.

They show us the world but sometimes screen us from it.”

Lelia wiping

fog from the car window.

“Trees and branches swaying. Clouds darkening.

Thickening ominously.

Exodus of pedestrians seeking answers.”

Her voice penetrating Joshua.

“Am I being cleansed of what they call inner demons?"

Joshua panic stricken.

"This other worldly person has me spellbound.

There's a chessboard in this moving vehicle.

A total stranger has me in her palm.” .

Lelia assumed various postures.

As Joshua was the driver she didn't want to send him to sleep.

Lelia's voice was either a hypnotist's drone or excited sports commentator.

Joshua could never forget this encounter.

“Don't forget Jonah too. Joshua wherever he might be.”

Her sinister tone rising.

“The name on your credit card.

I found it earlier when searching for my script.

Joshua Jonah king.”

Joshua confessed he was an only child.

“Am I a prisoner?.

Must button my lip.

I'm being freed and incarcerated by this person, the likes of whom I've never met before.”

Joshua felt this final therapeutic process coursing through him.

Very little was left of his "selves", “whispers.”

Joshua drove through a stoically preserved area whose haunting nature was blurred by this encounter.

“Terrible to have all these half worlds revealed with such clinical accuracy.”

Joshua to himself.

Lelia's voice gradually lost its domineering tone.

At this point by accident or design the tense atmosphere eased.

“You are probably wondering where this is all going to end.

Maybe I have whispers, Jonah's and selves to face too.”

A casual Lelia random comment.

On this occasion a composite of adult confidence and infantile charm.

“Oh here we are, this place.

She stated.

Joshua had undergone a sea change catharsis.

“Should I thank this lady or what?

Jonah my make-believe twin. Don't really need him do I?”

Joshua pondered.

“Back to earth my dear.

This is where we part.”

Lelia again.

“Better change the name on that credit card.

It could bug your company!”

Lelia cackles..

“See that building..

It's called “Another World School of Acting.”

Acting is therapy..

Therapy in every sense!

They are auditioning for a play

“Inside The Split Mind." She said.

"Wonder will I get the part?”

Lelia looked away sadly.

“Off I go. Enjoy yourself or yourselves or whatever is left of them.”

Lelia laughing through her tears..

“Better get out of here fast, Josh.” Joshua to himself.

“I'm beginning to sound like her.” Joshua now driving at top speed.

“It will be awhile before I offer someone a lift again.

I suppose I should be grateful to her.” Joshua’s face now a deep red.

"Well, Jonah, I guess I'm going to miss you and all those "issues" in a way.

But at least I can be myself …. sort of.”