#two pills thirty minutes in the bathroom washing myself over and over and a whole lot of effort to get to my current state of like 75% okay

[priestfrommidnightmass]

the hottest guys have debilitating phobias that literally make their lives uninhabitable every single day <3

[chappedandfadedvds]

Dec 17th, Thursday 22:18

Could the day get any worse? 

Jens thought as he wearily stared at the swirling soapy water behind the little plastic window, as it went round and round and round. With a quick glance up at the digital screen above he dully noted that he had stood here across from the mashine for over fourty-five minutes now. Hs back uncomfortably resting against the cold tiled wall behind him, as he steadied himself to stay upright.

The time honestly surprised him. He would have been assured that this much time couldn’t have passed, if he hadn’t been proven wrong by the numbers he had read. Had he drifted off in between then and now? Jens didn’t think that he had closed his eyes once. Maybe he had though? It was hard to tell, as his mind felt awfully robbed of actual thoughts to grasp at. However he was too tired to really care in the end, as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other without steering from his position. He had nothing else to do than wait. And if he would begin to ponder remotely on anything, he might as well just start to cry he felt like.

Certainly it was bad timing for Lucas to pass Jens in his quest to remain perfectly silent, inside and out. Because his boyfriend stopped by the doorway, as he had descended the stairs to make his way way to the kitchen. Jens couldn’t be sure. Perhaps the younger boy was looking for him. Fourty-five minutes was a long time to be missing after all.

Jens unfortunately had made the mistake to turn his head, as it lead him to see Lucas softly smiling at him. A faint distinct anger was bubbling up inside him, ready to grow and show itself. Jens would let it, if it came to it.

„Here you are, I was wondering where you had...“ His boyfriend cheerfully declared, but haltet as his gaze fell to the washing mashine and realisation hit him hard. His face fell into shock. „Shit.“

Shit, indeed. Jens wholeheartedly agreed.

„I forgot.“ 

„I saw.“ Jens’s voice was brisk yet still quiet, nonetheless pressed in a way that should tell Lucas not to continue to talk, and instead leave. The younger boy seemed to simply overlook it or somehow be deaf to his tone.

Jens had finished cleaning the kitchen counter, when he had looked forward to get upstairs and end the day cuddled up to his boyfriend to get his well deserved rest. He was still a little indecisive over the question if he should be glad or upset over the fact that he had looked into the downstairs bathroom. If he hadn’t, he would have been happily in bed by now probably. But he also would have had a full load of laundry left in the washing mashine for hours over night and possibly the whole school day. 

The washing mashine had been done for hours already, when Jens had wondered way it’s door was closed, after he had entered the room. Because everyone in the household always left it open, if it wasn’t running. So he had checked up on it and found the laundry forgotten in it. Which meant that Jens had quickly opened it to sniff one or two pieces and then immediately closed it again, to start the programm anew. Not much else for him to do here than wait.

And then he had gotten up to stand in the position that Lucas found him almost an hour later.

„I’m so sorry.“ Lucas apologised, knowing exactly well that it wouldn’t change anything about the situation right now. Truth be told, it only made Jens more angry. He could feel the electricity of tension in his fingertips, his hands balling into fists. 

„I asked you to do one thing today and you said yes, so I...“

„I know. I’m so sorry.“ Lucas’s voice interrupted him, his eyes definitely looking the part. Jens would almost feel sympathy with him, just not quite as he went on. „I can wait and hang them instead, you can already go...“

„No.“ This time it was Jens who broke his sentence off midway. He knew Lucas meant for him to lay down and sleep. „I shouldn’t have asked you in the first place. It is not your responsibility in the first place. These are all my clothes anyway. All the clothes that I only need to pack tomorrow for the trip. All of them.“

„I...“ Lucas began, but stopped when Jens hold up his hand to gesture to him to shut up. His blood began to boil under his skin. He felt on edge. How couldn’t the younger boy see that?

„Today was hell.“ Jens stated, and meant it. His voice was getting louder. He tried his best to not shout though. The last thing he wanted was for Lotte or his mom upstairs to wake up. But he was getting furious with any passing moment that his boyfriend wouldn’t just leave. For god’s sake, Lucas didn’t even seem to listen to him, busy to once more apologise to Jens.

„As I said, today was hell. The last couple of days were fucking hard, Luc. Lotte had trouble sleeping. My mom was either in pain or sleeping. I had to deal with my father on top of the whole guardianship case. And today was just an accumulation of all.“

Jens tried to take a deep breath, it just didn’t calm him down. He honestly felt more enraged the longer he thought about it. If he wouldn’t feel as exhausted, he would have gladly punched something. Preferably the boy, but as his heart probably wouldn’t allow him, the wall behind him would have done perfectly well instead.

„Lotte woke me at fucking five in the morning with a headache, where only a pill two hours later in the end had helped enough to convince her to go to school. So she was late, I was late. You know I stormed into class fifteen minutes after the bell rung, right? My french teacher told me to see her tomorrow beacuse of my test, which probably doesn’t mean it went well. I come home with Lotte, trying to stay cheerful and relaxed enough for her to not suspect anything. And tell her to go to her room to play something. Because my mom called for me from the bathroom, once we entered the house. So the next twenty minutes I hold my mom’s thin hair out of her face as she barfes her heart out, crying through all of it because it hurts her even more to throw up than to eat. There was barely anything to vomit, other than spit and blood. And I cannot just break down next to her, you see, because she is a mess and needs someone to take care of her and lean on. I barely managed to get her collapsed body back into bed and collect myself enough for you to show up half an hour later with your packed bag. And I ask you for one thing, Lucas, one fucking thing, while I prepare dinner and clean up afterwards. To hang the fucking laundry.“

Okay Jens was livid, no use in denying that any longer, when his voice was audibly pressed as he spoke through his teeth to keep himself from yelling. He was furious to the point he found it hard to stop himself from going on rambling about his miserable day. Furious. Not just with Lucas, but also with himself and the world in general.

„I’m sorry.“ It was barely a whisper his boyfriend whimpered under his breath, but it send Jens to glare him down. Anything to get him stop talking. Lucas was swallowing on something, as he stared back at the older boy with wide eyes. Jens was pretty sure, he hadn’t expected that when he found him. But here they fucking were.

„Stop apologising! Christ!“ 

This was probably the worst part of it all. To see and hear Lucas’s genuine regret plastered across his expression and deeply anchored in his voice. Jens would have preferred to tell him all about his day differently. He had prefered them to already be in bed, and have Lucas understand and support him, as they hold each other in a tight embrace. Instead he got this. And yes, Jens probably could take a deep breath and calm down and concede that it was too late to be angry anyway. But he was left to his emotions eating away on his rational mind.

„Why, are you still here?“ He asked, almost shouted, as Lucas flinched still standing in the doorway. The poor younger boy didn’t even get to answer.

„Leave! Go home. Go to my room. I don’t fucking care. Just get your damn face out of my sight! I don’t want to fucking hear or see you, Lucas!“

„Jens, I..“

„LEAVE!“ This one Jens in fact yelled at the startled boy inside the wooden frame, before he tore his eyes away to watch the bubbles gathering on the other side of the hatch. It did calm him enough in order for the beating of his heart to slow, and the rushing of his blood to died down.

He didn’t see Lucas leaving, but he heard the shuffeling of feet for a moment, before Jens tuned everything out around him. Except for the laundry continuously spinning around inside the mashine, unbothered by the scene that had unfolded outside. 

He didn’t wanted to know if Lucas had actually left or stayed.

It would break him to see the pairs of shoes and jacket gone.

The exhaustion was crushingly tearing at his consciousness.

Just thirty more minutes and he could hang his clothes up to dry. Allowing for him to finally seek out his bed and get some proper rest. God knows, he needed to close his eyes and feel his muscles able to relax, all of him tugged under a heavy blanket.

He hardly felt the trembling of his body, before his vision blurred and he slid down along the wall to sink in on himself. He drew his knees up, to prop his chin on them and hug his legs as tight as he could. Jens knew he was crying the moment he tasted the salt on his lips and his shoulders began to shake violently in the white lit room.

This day just needed to be over.

__ __ __ tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

[ill-skillsgard]

Phoenix Rising, Part 5 - Valter Skarsgård

Title: Phoenix Rising

Description: The struggle for domination is paved with deceit and destructive lust as two enemies battle it out for control night after night.

Warning: 18+ swearing/mentions of rape/violence/femdom/DDLG leanings

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

"Oh my God," I heard Valter's deep groan couple with the rustling of sheets at my back. I opened my eyes only to be blinded by the sun pouring in through my window. I reached up and pulled the curtain over, effectively washing out the room in shadows. "Thank you," he said, voice hoarse. When I rolled over to look at him he had the backs of palms shoved into his eyes, rubbing furiously. "God, I'm so sorry." "Sorry?" I asked. He took his hands away from his eyes and peeked at me. I couldn't believe that he was still there, dressed in his jeans and a tank top with his hair all a mess. It was strange to smell another person in my bed. Strange but welcome. "Sorry for... Last night. Getting so wasted. That was dumb," he apologized. "It wasn't dumb," I laughed. "We had fun. You had a good night, that's all." Valter inhaled deeply through his nose and stared up at the ceiling. "I didn't... Did I act like an ass?" "A cute ass," I said to him. He wrinkled his nose and looked at me. "Shut up." "You were nothing but respectful," I assured. "Shit... What time is it?" He asked. "A little after nine-thirty," I told him. I watched his eyes grow big and he sat up in bed and groaned even harder. "Shit. I have work today. In half an hour. I'm never going to make it over there in time," He fretted. I watched as he lifted his arm and smelled himself. "Fuck. I'm a mess." "You'll be fine. Why don't you hop in my shower and I can drive you to work?" I offered. "Really?" He asked. I nodded my head and watched as he contemplated my suggestion as if he had another choice. He groaned again and laid back down. I caught a gust of his scent with the motion and I turned pink when I remembered our kiss the night before. I had inhaled that same scent and it stirred the adrenaline in my chest. "I don't want to go," he moaned. "Then don't. Call in sick." Valter shook his head, "I can't do that. Riley will get so fucking pissed at me. He'll know I'm just hungover from last night." "Riley drank a lot too. I'm sure he's in the same boat," I pointed out. "No... I'll go. Fuck. I don't really want to but... I probably should." "Well go on then. Get in the shower and I'll drive you. Go now. Otherwise, you're going to be very late." "Okay," he nodded. "Where's the washroom?" "Go left down the hallway," I said to him. Valter dragged himself out of my bed and I watched him the entire time, feeling slightly dejected to see him leave. Without him in my bed, I felt a curious sense of loneliness that I had never experienced before. When I heard the shower turn on I got myself out of bed and changed quickly before he had the chance to finish up and walk in on me partially naked. I went into the kitchen and started putting together something to eat for the both of us as well as a lunch for him to take with him since he would have no time to go home before work. As I went I heard the sounds of his activities; the squeak of the showerhead turning off, the opening of the bathroom door, his deep sighs of reluctance, the door to my bedroom closing and then reopening a couple minutes later. Then came the sound of his socked feet down the hallway. I looked through the pass-through and saw him raking his hand through the wet, darkened strands of his blonde hair. Seeing him appear from the hallway was another cause for contemplation. I had lived on my own for so long that it was peculiar to see anyone else walking the halls. "What are you doing?" He asked when he found me in the kitchen. I held out a glass of water and a painkiller for him and he accepted it but not without eying me up and down. "Thanks, mommy." I felt the blood rush out of my face as I watched him pop the pill into his mouth and drain the glass of water with a few quick bobs of his larynx. It made it even worse when I handed him the paper bag I had put snacks into for him because I had gone ahead and wrote his name on it with a sred marker. "Oh, gosh. What's this?" He looked inside and pulled out a banana. "You're going to need all that stuff if you don't want to feel like shit later on today," I told him before handing him a travel mug full of coffee. "Why are you the greatest?" He asked me, smirking while shaking his head as he put the fruit back into the bag and accepted the cup I held out for him. "I know what it's like to go to work with a hangover. So, I figured I would help you out a little. Just so your day doesn't suck." "It already sucks that I have to leave but... Thank you, Nix." "You're welcome. Now, get your shoes on. We have to go before you're super late." Valter shoved his feet into his sneakers and I couldn't help but notice how astoundingly large they were in comparison to mine. His height was already something I often marveled at but his shoes looked comical next to mine. He followed me out the door and continued down the path to my car, squinting in the sunlight. "I hate this!" He complained. "Hate what?" I asked. "The sun. I don't have sunglasses. My eyes are burning!" I scoffed at his whining as we both got into my car at the same time. He watched as I leaned over and opened the glove box to pull out the emergency pair of sunglasses I always kept stashed just in case. I tossed them on his lap and he looked down at them and then back at me with one eyebrow raised. "These are pink," he pointed out. "Wear them or not then!" I said with a shrug before shoving my car key into the ignition. Valter unfolded the arms of the sunglasses I had offered him and slipped them on, turning towards me with his lips pursed animatedly. "Do I look fly?" "So fly," I smiled. By the time I pulled into the parking lot Valter was only five minutes late. I pulled up right in front and parked so he could get out. He gathered up all of his things, looking down at them appreciatively and then at me with a smile on his lips that could not be ignored. "We kissed last night, didn't we?" He asked. I was caught off guard by his question but didn't react so as to alert him of my surprise that he had brought it up. "Yeah... We sure did." "I want to... If you want... We should hang out again and maybe not drink so much? We can rock some AOC or like... Anything." I nodded at him coolly, "yeah we definitely should." "Tonight?" He asked me. "Sure. I have nothing going on." "Well, now you do," Valter said with a wink. I bit the inside of my cheek and could only watch as he opened the passenger side door, got out, shut it and leaned down to wave at me through the window. Waving back as he set off towards the shop, I let out a breath that I had been clenching in my lungs since he had reminded me of the kiss we shared. Of course, I never forgot but I didn't expect him to bring it up. I didn't take off right away. I had to sit and stew in the aftermath of recent events. Events that were going to serve as stepping stones towards an ultimate goal. That little ringing of nervousness that trills through your whole body were what I was starting to feel as I sat there thinking about having kissed Valter not but twelve hours ago. A reel of the memory of us all drinking together and him being too drunk to call a cab played over and over and I don't know why I felt nervous but I just did. My guts were crawling and my heart started to quicken so much I felt like I was going to start having an anxiety attack. Breathing in deeply through my nose, I tried to expel all of the screaming thoughts of ways that I could fuck everything up. But I knew I hadn't fucked up. Not yet. All the pieces I needed were in place and the fact remained; I was going to have sex with Valter. It was inevitable. We had already set the tone. So why did I feel like it was all something I had just made up? It was hard for me to exist in my own head at that moment and I thought most definitely I would have an anxiety attack just as soon as I got home and started to clean from top to bottom obsessively and thoroughly. The thought of having to impress him was crushing and I cowered every time my phone went off in fear of seeing a message from him that might indicate he was going to change his mind. I showered and used my loofah to scour my skin, thinking back to a few hours prior when Valter had been naked in the very same place. Of course, I had witnessed nothing but it didn't stop me from picturing him and what he might have done while he was using my shower to wash. Though I had never seen him without clothes on, I pictured water running down his skin then remembered what he looked like with his hair all wet after he had come out into the kitchen smelling like my fancy organic, fair-trade, vegan and cruelty-free soap. It all lent so much to my imagination that I lost myself completely in thought until about seven PM when I finally received a message from Valter asking if I was still game to hang out. 

Still game to game with me tn?

Excitement crept into my chest and flickered there like a burning flame. It was almost time. I had stashed away my hard copy of Agents of Carnage so he wouldn't see it and ask why it was that I didn't want to play it with him. Instead, I hooked up all of my older consoles and dug out some stacks of other options. I knew it would be easy to convince him to play something that didn't involve me logging onto my gamertag in front of him. I still didn't want him to have a clue.

Yes. My place? I waited another fifteen minutes for his response and it drove me crazy every second I attended my phone.

Sure. I'll be there in a bit. The time I spent waiting for him to knock on my door was half an hour of pure agony. When he finally showed up I opened the door and felt weak in the limbs when he smiled down at me and raised his eyebrows with his hands clasped behind his back. "Sorry for taking so long," he said immediately as I let him by me through the door. "It's okay," I said. His body, as well as his smell, breezed past me and I started to feel that arousing intoxication hit me. He hadn't even spent more than a minute inside my house and I was already foaming at the lips. "How was work?" I asked him. "Oh, man!" he began to laugh and shake his head. I cocked my head at him in question, "What?" He followed me into the living room where I had just one lamp on beside the sofa and two controllers already plugged in and waiting to be picked up off the coffee table. "I guess we're going old school then?" He asked, smirking at the wired controllers sitting there for us. "Yeah, I felt in the mood to play something old school. You're cool with that?" I asked. "Of course. Whatever you want. It's your house," he said, accent ringing in my ears pleasantly. I started to salivate when we sat down. He smelled as though he had showered again or it was just his fresh black zip-up hoodie. His hair was all swept back and hidden underneath a backward baseball cap and I was kind of sad that I couldn't see it. His Scandinavian features had become a subject of my obsession. Blonde had never been the colour that I preferred but his hair was so lustrous and fell over in the effortlessly trendy way he wore it that I couldn't help but come to adore it. His lips, the ones I had kissed the night before were so full I could scantly pull my eyes from them when he spoke. "So wait, what were you going to tell me?" I asked him. "What was I going to tell you when?" "When you first got here. You said 'oh' when I asked you how work was." Valter nodded his head knowingly, a cocky smirk wiped over those luscious lips. "Oh, right. Yeah... Riley was pissed at me." "Really?" I asked. "You were only like five minutes late." "No," Valter shook his head. "He wasn't mad about that. It didn't help but... That's not what he was pissed about." "What was he pissed about?" He laughed uneasily like what he wanted to tell me wasn't something that was his right to tell. "Okay... If I tell you, you have to promise me not to say anything. I really don't want things to get complicated for you." "For me? Why would things get complicated for me?" Valter started to look a little worried. "I don't know. It could possibly make things weird for you. I mean, if you don't already know... Riley is in love with you." I rolled my eyes and snickered, "yeah, I kind of noticed." "Well... He found out last night that I went home with you and he was acting really weird about it." "It's none of his business, really." "That's what I told him," Valter assured. "I told him it didn't matter... That you just gave me a ride home." "Yeah. So, what's the big deal?" Valter laughed again as he looked at me. He was all smiles and they were contagious ones. He leaned back and rubbed his hands over his face for a moment to regain his composure. "Fuck... He kinda... Caught me in a lie." "What? What did you say? Tell me!" "So, I told him yeah, that you had dropped me off at home last night and that was that. But then he started... I don't know... I guess, laughing at me? Because I guess he also saw you drop me off this morning. So he thinks I slept with you and now he hates my guts." "But we didn't." "I know! I know... I told him that. Even though it's not his business. I told him that and he doesn't believe me. Not that I care but it's just that I don't want it to become an unpleasant environment for you at work." I shrugged my shoulders. "If I show up to work and he makes any questions about it then he has a harassment lawsuit on his hands so... If you're buddies with him, I would suggest telling him that." "Ruthless!" Valter laughed. "Always," I said slyly. "I didn't tell him I was coming back tonight to finish what we started though." "Oh!" I exclaimed. "Is that so? Is that what you think is going to happen?" Valter placed his controller back on the table before we had even made it through the first loading screen. He sicked those murky green eyes on me and I could feel the pressure in my veins go off the charts. "It's not what I think is going to happen. It's what I know is going to happen." Valter leaned closer to me and I couldn't deny him or myself the pleasure of kissing his lips again; those sumptuous pink lips that I had already heard all manner of filth spill from. The distinct smell of his was only made better by our proximity. Each second that we passed by kissing each other, a feeling of warmth spread from my chest and bloomed all over me like my body had been commandeered by a field of fiery flowers, bursting with pollen that carried along my limbs like glowing ashes to sizzle in my fingertips and toes. I placed my hand on his thigh and rubbed my thumb over the denim only slightly. He pulled away to stare down at where I was touching him, lips languorously hanging open after I too pulled away. He unzipped his black hoodie and pulled it off, getting comfortable before he pulled my hand and urged me to climb on top of his lap to sit. He looped his arms around my back and pulled my chest to his so he could deepen our kiss. Without pause, he took his hat off and set it beside the lamp on the side table. I could finally do what I had wanted to do for so long and let my fingers lightly scratch up the back of his neck to lace gently through his hair. Too many times I had watched him combing his own fingers through his strands and fantasized about what it would be like to do the same. Now that I was doing it, the feeling was just as satisfying as I thought it would be. Valter was soft all over, from his hands to his hair to his lips and all of the skin I could touch. Even his voice got soft when he spoke against my mouth and said, "Oh my god, Nix. Nixyyy." The only thing that wasn't soft about him was the erection I could feel growing inside of his jeans. I didn't cower at the feeling. Rather, I wheeled my hips in a slow circle to tease him more. "Oh, fuck... I'm hard. I'm really fucking hard." "How hard?" "I'm sure you can feel for yourself the answer to that question." "Yes, but I want you to say it. Tell me how hard you are." Valter blushed although his hands betrayed his bashful look by squeezing my hips and helping me rock into him. "I... I'm so hard, I could probably come just like this," he admitted. "Oh, well, we wouldn't want that? Don't want to ruin the fun by finishing too early," I slunk down from his lap and lowered myself to the floor, knees on the carpet and hands running up his thighs. He held his breath for a moment before letting it out of his pursed lips. "Oh, Jesus." I reached for the band of his jeans, locating the button quickly and opening it before tugging the zipper down. Valter raised his hips so I could pull them down while he simultaneously pulled his white shirt off over his head. When he was completely naked sitting on my couch another hot wave of arousal drowned all sense of the world around me. I didn't hear the TV in the background and I didn't worry myself the way I had worried all day before he came back. Seeing him in all his glory with his cock hard and upright, resting against his stomach was enough to make me feel silly that I had ever doubted myself. His thighs were thick with muscle and I couldn't help but rub them as I scooted further between them. He looked down at me with such lust burning on his face I could practically feel the heat from it. "Please don't make me sit here naked while you're down there fully clothed," he urged me. "Here... Let me level the playing field a little," I said as I peeled my own shirt off and tossed it aside. His eyes fell down to my bra and the moment he registered that there were breasts to be seen, his cock twitched a little and I took notice. "You want to see more?" I teased. "Maybe? I mean... Yeah. Not if you don't want to though." I reached behind my back and tugged at the hooks of my bra strap. I didn't know which inhuman entity to thank for granting me the ability to get it off the first try, but I was most definitely happy I didn't have to struggle with it before pulling it off my chest. "God, yes. You have gorgeous tits," he whispered. I stood up taller on my knees, grabbed his hands and planted them on my chest as he leaned over and kissed my lips again. I took the opportunity to encircle his shaft with one hand and began gently massaging it until small whimpers started to escape him. He pulled back so he could watch what it looked like when I stroked my grip over the head of his cock, eying the first drop of pre-cum that had squeezed its way out. "Nix... Holy shit. Please... Please, can you- Oh, fuck yes." The question didn't have to leave his mouth before I answered it by gliding the tip of my tongue over the clear little bubble of liquid arousal. "What's that?" I asked. "What would you like me to do?" Valter pressed his head into the back cushions of my couch and shook his head slowly with a laugh. "Oh... You're going to make me say it?" "Yes," I leered. "Fuck! Ugh... Okay. Jesus, do you have to look at me like that while your tongue is-?" I interrupted him by sucking the swollen head of his cock between my lips for just a moment. He bristled with pleasure and another little laugh left him as he adjusted his position by tilting his pelvis up, sinking further into the couch cushions. "So evil." "I just like to hear you ask. So go on baby boy... What do you want?" "I want that mouth on my cock," he said with a slight tone of command that made my nipples perk. "Yeah? I bet you do," I picked on him with my lips ghosting the underside of his shaft so all he could feel was my breath. "Oh my god, why do you have to torture me?" He asked, hand reaching down his torso to push at the base of his erection, guiding it to my puckered lips. "'Cause it's fun," I replied with a giggle before sinking down on his length once slowly and sensually and then once again a little bit faster, making a dramatic little popping noise as I rose my face to smile back up at him. Valter cursed over and over again the more I teased and once his vocabulary started to veer off in a Swedish direction the more satisfaction I got from it. Aside from the certainty that he was just as beautiful naked as I had imagined, the way his skin gleamed in the dull lamplight tantalized me and made me want even more to make him moan out loud. His lips blushed like a rose in Summer and he didn't know if he should watch me or not with his big dusky green eyes. I sucked as much of his length down the column of my throat as I possibly could and he writhed beneath me, hips shifting and body rippling with gooseflesh. With a gasp, he suddenly pulled away, sat up and eyed me seriously. "Get up." "What?" He urged me up to the couch and when I climbed atop the cushions he went immediately for my pants, pulling them open and off as quick as he possibly could. My panties went down with them and he looked up at me like what he had discovered beneath them was rarer and more precious than anything he had ever seen before. "Oh... Nix. Goddamn... That's... Your pussy is..." His voice was low, words drawing out in fat drops of hot lust. I kicked off my pants and underwear and lifted my knees up over my hips as he extended his middle finger like he was about to curse me. But there were no brazen maledictions leaving his mouth then. He was nothing but an indulgent plash and it was hard for me to remember him as the brash shit-talking asshole I had gotten to know before seeing the other side of the coin. I nearly felt too vulnerable laying sprawled out on the couch with his long middle finger spreading my opening, gently dipping in once or twice, moaning deeply in unison. He adjusted his position on the couch to better face me so he could work his finger in and out of me easier while he reached his other hand down to wrap around his cock. The pad of his thumb stretched up to gently circle my clit which had peeked out from my intense arousal seeing him enjoy entering me in such a juvenile, almost virtuous way. He was not innocent though and I knew that. I decided to reclaim the power from him and rocked up into a sitting position. Gripping his cock once more, I tugged on it as I rose up off the couch. His eyes glued to me, he followed my action and stood up. We walked naked down the corridor and I never once let go of his length as I guided him, using his manhood as a tether to pull him along by. He laughed uneasily as though he wasn't sure if he was being led to paradise or to his demise. When I finally got him on my bed I climbed on top of him and took a backward ride on his dick so he could watch me from behind for a little while. It wasn't until I heard whimpers leave his lips and felt him tug on my elbow that I caught the hint that he wanted to see more of me. Obliging him, I got off slowly, dramatically, making an opulent scene of letting him watch every last inch of his cock pull from my wettened opening. "Come... C'mere. Sit on my face," he beckoned me upward with two fingers and I gladly accepted the invitation. Smothering his face with my underside was something that poured a strong cocktail of self-consciousness and excitement down my throat. At first, I thought if I did what he'd asked and sat on his face, I might hurt him or cause him to suffocate but that didn't turn out to be the case. His hands shot up to squeeze my ass and the only things that disappeared were the sounds of him moaning and groaning under my taste. I could still see his eyes and the way his eyebrows knit together in succulent pleasure. To say I fucked him mercilessly would have been a statement of accuracy. I took what I wanted from him by riding his lap and letting his hands up to explore every curve of my form. He divulged his grievous pleasure in the form of curse words both English and Swedish. He purred like an engine and being on top of it wasn't without its rewards. Valter was enthusiastic, pliant and spirited while I fucked him into my mattress. He didn't fight me for dominance but his words were caked in filth. "Your pussy's so good. Feels so perfect around me... Fuck, I'm getting close." "Don't come yet," I said. He pouted up at me, eyes shining in question. "Please?" "No, baby. Not until I say," I gritted. "I... I can't wait... I have to." "Don't blow yet, dirty boy. I'm not done with this nice hard cock yet," Valter shook his head, swallowed hard and tried to look up at me without his eyes going out of focus. "I'll fuck you again. We'll fuck again and again but... I'm going to fucking come." "You want to come?" I asked him, hands planted on his broad chest. "Yes!" "Are you a good boy?" Valter mewled with a lack of graciousness, "Seriously?" I slowed my rocking and glared down at him until he took the hint that my authority over his body was not up for question. "Yes! Yes... I'm a good boy! Can I please come?" "Yeah, you are a good boy, aren't you? Letting me ride you... Letting me use your cock however I like." He must have been impressed by how forthcoming I was because he smirked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I'll be your fucking throne, honey. You can sit on me whenever the fuck you want." "Oh, that's a very good boy!" "Yes, I'm a good boy. Please, Nix... I'm about to fucking bust. Kristus... Så bra." I quickened my pace on him, snapping my hips up and down, using his torso as my support while his hand snuck down to rub at my clit. "Yeah, you're gonna bust. You're going to come inside my pussy. Your cum is mine... Give it to me." I batted his hand away and took over rubbing myself off while he pushed his hips up into me harder than he had all night. I could tell by the way all his tendons flexed and his arms stiffened that an orgasm was about to rip through his body and find its way to coat my insides. I followed closely by my own hand and the visual spectacle that was the beautiful blonde man underneath me, panting for air and his sense of manliness back. Our climaxes mixed in a lovely, thick pool of brackish perfume and smeared all over our groins until neither of us could produce another drop. I collapsed on top of him and he wrapped his arms around me with an urgency I didn't expect. The pounding of our hearts could be felt between our chests like the organs were trying to escape to continue the battle. The afterglow lasted and lasted, turning from moist hotness to a calming lull. Valter snickered and guided me onto my side so we could lay facing each other with our heads on pillows. He was still dewy with sweat and pink all over like he had just come out of a particularly balmy shower. "That was... Wow. I wasn't really expecting that," he admitted. "I know," I answered. "I'm guessing you were?" I nodded. "Something kind of like that." "Well, it was... Fun?" He sounded skeptical still, as though everything I had just done to him was open to interpretation. "Was it fun for you?" I asked. "Yes." "Same here." Valter pushed my hair out of my face and scooted closer to me so he could press a dousing kiss to my lips. "Uh oh," he whispered when he pulled back an inch or two. "What?" "Things are going to get messy for us, aren't they?" I sighed but couldn't help but smile because the mess we were creating was just the thing I had been yearning for. "Maybe... I suppose we'll see." "You uh, still want to game?" He asked, quirking his eyebrows at me. "Oh, totally. I've been excited to kick your ass all day." Valter sat up in my bed and wobbled like he had drunk too much. "I think you already did but, bring it on. I'm down to get my ass whooped again by you, madame.

[mamaredd123]

Love Born of Fire (Chapter 4)

Get caught up here    Love Born of Fire Master List

PAIRING: Dean x Reader

WARNINGS: don’t think there are any in this chapter... let me know if I missed something

WORD COUNT:  2579

Mama’s Master List

My Forever Tags on Google Doc or just send me a message, if you want on the list.

Feel free to share any feedback. Let me know what you think about it so far, don’t be shy!!!

I fought against waking as I felt the nurse move my IV lines around. She hummed softly to herself as she checked the machines and recorded all the information she needed. Before I even opened my eyes, I knew Dean had left. The side of the bed where he had laid last night was depressingly cold now. I heard the door click shut as the new nurse finally left.

Rolling over, carefully, I did a quick scan of the room. Yep, he was gone. Maybe he finally wised up after getting some sleep. I know I wouldn’t hang around me after all that! Sighing, I reached for the bedside table and pulled it closer to me. Lifting the lid of the food tray, I was treated with the sight of blanched looking eggs, a piece of very dry toast, and two little strips of bacon. Yum, I thought to myself sarcastically. That was not going to be going into my stomach!

I set the lid back down on the tray and pushed it all away from me. I needed to go home already. I quickly found the call button and pushed it. I should have thought about this a few moments ago when she was still in here. I pushed the covers off of my and began making my way towards the cabinets across the room. Opening one of the doors, I was surprised to find my personal clothes and such on the first try. I had just gotten the bags pulled out when the nurse came back in the room.

“Ms. Y/N, you don’t need to be up and moving just yet,” she fussed as she tried to usher me back to the bed.

“Nope,” I told her as I gently swatted her hands away. “I need to head home. Please go find the doctor so I can get this moving along.”

She stood there, giving me a very disapproving look, but finally she turned on her heel and left the room. These people just don’t get it. There is no way I was spending any more time in here. I had to get home and make sure I had a home to go home to. For all I knew, Randy probably blew my house up also!

I quickly slipped on my pants and after a bit of struggling, managed to get my blood stained shirt back on. It felt horrible against my skin but it would have to suffice until I could get home. Gingerly, I bent over and got my shoes on too. My side was starting to yell at me a little by now, so I stretched out on the bed and waited for the doctor to show up.

Flipping through the stations on the TV, I was feeling quite pleased with myself. I had managed to get completely dressed and I didn’t bust any stitches! Let that doctor tell me I don’t need to go home! An hour later, that is exactly what he did.

“There is no way I can discharge you in good faith. You just had a major surgery less than forty eight hours ago.”

“Look, I can’t stay in here. I got up, got dressed, and am standing here arguing with you. Does it look like I am in any duress at the moment? No, I didn’t think so. Work with me Doc, send me home on bed rest. I promise I won’t over do it. But I have to go home.”

“I will get you discharged but it will definitely be against the doctor’s orders. When you get home, I want you to stay in the bed until all the redness is gone from the area around your wound. Make sure to take your medication exactly as I prescribe it, and please, if you notice anything out of the ordinary with you wound, come back and see me.”

“Yes sir. I promise you I will. Oh, and thank you. Thanks for stitching me back up and keeping me alive,” I told him with a sincere smile.

“You are very welcome. Just don’t make me regret letting you out of here.”

Things moved along a little quickly after that. The hospital got me discharged in about thirty minutes and put me in a cab. I had the cabbie make a quick pass by the pharmacy to get all my medicines filled and I was home within an hour and a half. I ran inside the house to grab some cash and tipped the cabbie a little extra for helping me out. With my meager belongings in my hand, I walked back inside the house, this time a little more on edge.

Foolish woman. Damn, the whole house could have blown up when I barged in here a second ago. Knowing that psycho, anything was possible. I made my way through the house, going room by room, looking for anything that looked off or different. After I did a complete walk through, I was partly sure that everything was as it was when I left the other day.

After a quick shower to wash off the smell of smoke that had lingered on my clothes, I slipped on one of my oversized sleep shirts and padded my way to the kitchen. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was almost noon. No wonder I’m starving! I walked over the refrigerator and starting pulling out the things I needed for an omelet.

I always found a soothing kind of calm when I cooked. Chopping up the green onions and tomatoes; beating the eggs; laying the bacon in the pan; these things were my life. With the bacon cooked to the perfect level of crispness and the omelet to the perfect level of fluff, I walked to the living room with my plate and got comfortable on the couch. While I cooked, I had started making a mental checklist of all things that I had to get taken care of. New cell phone, new license, new social security card, find the insurance papers. The list was becoming quite long.

I set my now empty plate on the coffee table and stretched out. I clicked the TV on and settled in to watch whatever movie was playing. Before I knew, with my stomach full, I was out like a light. When I finally woke up, it was dark outside. Hitting the info button on my remote, I saw that it was nearly midnight. Wow, how did that happen? I stretched to get the kink out of my back and then headed for the kitchen. I was way overdue for my medicine.

After getting a glass of water and swallowing down all seven pills, I headed back towards the bedroom. I threw a glance at the answering machine sitting on the bar as I passed. Did that really say twenty six messages? I backtracked and hit the play button. The first five were from friends saying they heard what happened and if I needed anything, just let them know. The sixth one was Randy. There was no doubt in my mind at all. Just some horrible laughing on the other end. Sorry son of a bitch!

The next twenty though erased all thoughts of him from my mind. They were all from Dean. Today! I had no idea how he had gotten my home number. No one but the closest of people had it. I wasn’t going to complain though. Each message he keeps saying how sorry he was for missing me at the hospital, please call him, how worried he was. When the last one ended, I reached for the phone and dialed the number he had left. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he answered after the second ring.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Y/N! I am so glad you called. I was worried.”

“I’m ok. I just couldn’t stay there anymore. I bullied the doctor a little into letting me come home.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I had to take care of a few things and then you were gone when I got back.”

“It’s not a problem Dean. I told you last night that you didn’t have to stay with me.”

“I know I don’t HAVE to. I did it because I wanted to.”

“Well, now I am home, all safe and sound. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

“I would like to be the judge of that, if you don’t mind.”

”What?” I asked him, giggling a little. “You need to come check out my house?”

“Ok, if you insist. Give me your address,” he answered, laughing also.

“Alright wise guy, 3346 Oak Lane. Do you think you can find it?”

“I can find anything I look for. See you soon.”

With a click, he was gone. I sat down on the bar stool and tried to figure out how he just got me to invite him over here. Laughing to myself, I just shook my head. I didn’t know what it was about this guy but I think I might be liking this him just a little too much.

Not even giving a remote care about how I looked, I walked back to the couch and sat down. My medicines were starting to kick in and my head was feeling a little woozy but I felt giddy. Still smiling, I started flipping through the stations on the TV. The doorbell startled me and I nearly tripped when I jumped up to go answer it. The sight of him standing there, when I opened that door, was the best thing to happen to me today.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey yourself.”

“I am here at your request to check that your house is safe for you to occupy.”

“By all means then, come on in and do what you must.”

I stepped back and let him enter. He was dressed in a black T-shirt, tight fitting jeans, and boots. I gladly followed behind him as we walked to the living room. The view was excellent!

“Hmm. So this is where you have been hiding from me all day, huh?”

“Fraid so. Guilty.”

“So, you gonna give me a tour or you want me to check things out for myself?”

“Yea, I can do that, I think. The kitchen is over there, the dining area is on the other side here, down the hall is the guest bathroom, guest bedroom to the right and my bedroom and bathroom is on the left. That’s about it,” I told him laughing as I got situated back on the couch.

“So that’s how this is gonna go. Ok. Alright. Well you just sit there and make yourself comfortable. I really am going to make a round.”

I was still giggling as he came out of the kitchen and made his way down the hall. Damn it, it has got to be the pain med’s. I feel like a sixteen year old all alone with her crush for the first time. But the more I thought about Dean, the sillier I felt. I had tears rolling down my face when he finally came back in the living room.

“Did I miss something?” he asked.

“Nope,” I answered, trying not to burst out in another fit of laughter. “Just bare with me. It’s gotta be the medicine.”

His confused look melted straight into an amused one in a blink of an eye. He smiled at me and picked up my throw blanket from the back of the couch. Sitting beside me, he laid the blanket over me. His hand gazed my arm as he positioned it around me. The touch itself stopped all the laughter in my throat. I found myself staring up into those eyes of his again. He paused and looked at me, a smile still on his face.

“What is it now? You aren’t gonna freak out on me or anything, are you?”

“No, um, no, not at all,” I said, catching my breath. “I’m not a freak out kind of girl, you know.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for the kind to laugh hysterically over nothing either. Just saying.”

“Hey, I told you it’s the medicine.”

“Uh huh.”

“Hmm. Moving on. So is my house safe? Did it pass your inspection?”

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“Yea, but I feel it would be safer if I stayed here tonight. You know, just to be on the safe side.”

“You think so, huh?” I asked, stretching my legs out across his lap.

“Yep. I do.”

“Well, I guess you are staying here tonight then.”

“Why don’t we get you to bed? It’s almost one in the morning.”

“But you just got here,” I tried to pout as he helped me up from the couch.

“And I will be here when you wake up.”

“I thought that last night too.”

“I told you I was sorry about that. But I got everything taken care of. I will be here for you as long as you need me.”

I slipped my arm around his waist and leaned into him as he walked me down the hallway. The covers were already pulled back on the bed, so I easily eased my legs under them. Dean tucked the covers in around me and then cut the lamp off. I heard him whisper good night as he started from the room.

“Dean, wait,” I called out to him before he could close the bedroom door. “Will you sleep in here with me tonight. Please?”

“Are you sure? I would be more than comfortable on your couch.”

“Yes, please. Sleep with me.”

I heard the door close and watched his shadow move through the room as he crossed to the other side.

“There you go being super forward and all again. Do all the women in this town move as fast as you?” he asked, laughing.

“Nope. I am a one of a kind.”

“Thank goodness. I am beginning to think you are going to be a handful.”

I felt him slide under the covers with me. Then his arm eased across my side, pulling me backwards towards him. I felt his bare legs snuggled up to mine. For the first time in years, I felt that delicious warmth of arousal. I pushed back up against him, trying to get as close to him as humanly possible. He welcomed it and slid his hand up until it rested directly beneath my breast.

I laid there, trying not to move anymore. Every inch of his skin had my own skin tingling where we touched.

“Are you ok?” he whispered in the dark.

“Yea, I am good. Why?”

“Just asking. Your breathing a little fast for someone supposed to be going to sleep.”

“I'm working on it, don't rush me,” I said as I rolled towards him.

The faint moonlight coming in the window only served to accent his already strong jawline. Without realizing it, I reached up to trace it with my finger tips.

“Y/N,” Dean said in a gruff voice.

“Dean,” I whispered back.

Then his lips were pressed against mine. Never in my life had I ever experienced the sensation of the world dissolving until that moment. With one of his arms wrapped tightly around me, he kissed me with so much wanting. It was as if everything was gone, nothing existed except for the two of us, in that moment.

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[amarie-bee]

A (rather long) account of being sick and remembering how good it feels to breathe

Three weeks ago I caught a nasty cold that flattened me in the span of about twelve hours. Fearing that it was the flu going around both my schools, I dragged myself to the doctor which apparently is a thing that people do often in countries where there is good health insurance.

When I showed up to Tada Clinic, the small doctor’s office down the street from my school, the waiting room was full. I went up to the two girls in uniform behind the reception desk.

“Hi,” I said. “I have the chills and my throat hurts. Can I talk to the doctor?”

One of the girls handed me a thermometer to put under my armpit to take my temperature, which was a rather embarrassing ordeal since my hands were full, I had on four layers of clothes, and was standing in front of about twenty people, but I managed to somehow accomplish it. Then I sat in the back of the room, waiting for about thirty minutes before a smiling nurse in light pink scrubs called my name.

“Amber-sama,” she waved, knowing exactly who I was as the only foreigner in the building.

The doctor told me that since I didn’t have a fever, it seemed I didn’t have the flu after all, and prescribed me three days’ worth of ibuprofen and a powdered Chinese herbal remedy meant to help with the chills. When I got home, I examined the prescriptions. The ibuprofen was half the strength of the over-the-counter ibuprofen I had brought with me from America, and I had no idea how to take the powdered herb mix sealed into a series of silver packets.

“I think you shake it into your mouth and wash it down with water,” my friend texted me after I asked her what she thought I should do with the instruction-less packets.

“You should mix it with hot water and drink it like tea,” texted another friend.

“How am I supposed to know?” said a third.

I tried both of the first two methods, and they each seemed to work fine, and the herbal mix tasted faintly like snickerdoodles thanks to the cinnamon inside, which gave me a pang of homesickness. I googled it and discovered that Japanese doctors often prescribed kanpo, specific blends of herbs according to Chinese medicine, and that these blends were approved by the country’s Ministry of Health and manufactured by pharmaceutical companies alongside Western drugs.

“Wow,” I thought. “How holistic,” all of a sudden inspired to re-balance my chi and fight off this cold the ~natural~ way.

I stumbled through that week somehow, which also happened to be the last week of classes for the ninth-graders, who graduated on a beautiful sunny day. I cried throughout most of the ceremony, voice gone, shaking from the chills, secretly yearning for DayQuil and emotionally exhausted. After work, I wanted nothing more than to fall face-first into bed, but instead decided to stop by a pharmacy on the way home.

“Fuck kanpo,” I said to myself in my car. “I need some real medicine.”

I told the woman behind the counter that I had developed a cough that kept me up at night, so I needed whatever their strongest cough medicine was and stat. She immediately produced a purple glass bottle from a shelf behind her.

“You need this,” she said. “Take it right before bed, and every four hours as often as you need. It’s the strongest thing we have. Hey, do you teach English?”

I cradled the cough syrup the whole way home like the sacred elixir I believed it to be. That night, just as the pharmacist directed, I took a dose before bed, and then took an extra swig too because, hey, Japanese medicine was weak as shit.

Yesssss, I thought, propping up my pillows and turning on my humidifier. Sleeeeeep, beautiful sleeeeeep, come to me finally!

But I did not sleep that night. I felt the medicine working as my cough subsisted, but as the minutes stretched into hours it began to feel as if my whole body was on fire. My heart began to race.  My palms were sweaty. I couldn’t stop my brain from conjugated every Japanese verb that came to mind and also reliving every conversation I’d had in the past few weeks.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” I texted Marcus frantically around two a.m. “I feel like I’m going insane.”

“Are you okay???” he replied, by some stroke of fate still awake. “It’s okay, I’ll stay awake until you fall asleep.”

Talking with Marcus calmed me down and I felt my heartbeat slow to the kind of range expected for a person lying in bed, but I only slept for three hours that night, finally falling asleep sometime just before five a.m.

The next day, with dark bags under my eyes, we drove to the city to watch an annual bilingual musical in Kitajima. Somehow wide awake, I snuck the cough medicine in my purse inside the theater, where I took sips from the purple glass bottle throughout the show, trying to calm my lungs down. By the time evening came and we left the city for the long drive back to Mima, I felt the sleepless night come crashing down on me as I tried to pay attention to the narrow country roads in front of me, trying to ignore the feeling of my face melting off. This is it, I thought. I’m exhausted. I’m finally going to sleep tonight.

I put on pajamas. I washed my face. I measured the cough syrup dosage in a little plastic cup, and then doubled it for safe measure. I crawled into bed and pulled the comforter up around my chin.

At three a.m., as my heart body lay there jittering once again, I admitted defeat and turned on my lights and made myself a cup of tea. What the actual fuck, I thought, and then decided to google the cough medicine I’d been swigging like juice.

The main active ingredient in my elixir turned out to be codeine, meant to suppress severe coughing, which immediately made me wonder why on earth I could buy liquid codeine over the counter but had to have ibuprofen prescribed to me by a doctor. I decided to look up the other ingredients to see if there was something else that would make my body react so poorly - and as my eyes scanned the back of the purple glass bottle, actually reading the Japanese on the back for the first time, my jaw dropped.

There it was. The last active ingredient listed. 90 mg of caffeine per 60 ml.

WHAT THE FUCK, I wanted to scream. WHY THE FUCK IS THERE CAFFEINE IN NIGHTTIME COUGH MEDICINE. I quickly did the mental math and realized I’d been drinking the equivalent of about two cups of coffee every four hours ever since I bought the goddamn bottle that Friday after work. No wonder I was lying in bed heart racing, brain on fire, unable to sleep.

I texted just about everyone I knew to complain, and then went to the bathroom and took two sleeping pills I had with me leftover from my insomniac days in America. I dragged my futon to the living room floor where I finally slept for ten hours in an uneasy, medicated haze.  

The next day I asked Mika why on earth a Japanese pharmacist would tell me to take cough syrup loaded with caffeine right before bed, but she didn’t seem to understand what my problem was. “So the caffeine made you unable to sleep?” she asked me.

“Yeah,” I said. “Of course.”

“What do you mean of course?” she said.

“What do you mean, what do you mean?” I said. “Caffeine wakes you up, like drinking coffee in the morning.”

“You drink coffee in the morning to wake up?”

“Um, yes,” I said. “Why do you drink coffee in the morning?”

“Um, because I like the taste,” said Mika.

“It goes well with bread,” added her husband. “We drink it before bed too and sleep fine.”

After a brief survey of my coworkers, who it turned out all drank coffee before bed to no detrimental effect on their sleep, I was left to wonder if caffeine somehow affected Japanese bodies differently than my own. Or perhaps Japanese people were simply so exhausted from their long overtime hours that nothing could prevent them from falling asleep once they were horizontal.

“Oooooh, you’re like a child!” they said, amused, when I told them I couldn’t sleep after drinking coffee.  

For the next week, I tried every other non-cough-syrup remedy I could think of to stop the coughing and get some sleep. I drank honey tea before bed. I cranked up the humidifier. I vacuumed and washed every corner of my bedroom to collect any dust that might be making it harder for me to breathe. I took sleeping pills at night. My Japanese mother gave me a home remedy of diced daikon in honey, which I drank before bed to no avail. I went back to the pharmacy and bought cold medicine without caffeine. One particularly difficult night, I began to get a piercing pain in the right side of my chest when I inhaled. I slept about four hours and tried not to cry the entire next day at school as the pain continued.

“Don’t get any more over-the-counter medicine from the pharmacy again,” Bando Sensei told me that day. “The medicine from the doctor is so much better and cheaper.”

“You’re not in America anymore,” the other teachers told me. “We go to the doctor when we’re sick here!”

And so I dragged my ass back to Tada Clinic. The same girls who were working before smiled at me from behind the reception desk. “Hi,” I said. “I’m back.”

I stumbled through another appointment with the doctor, who listened to my breathing with a stethoscope and then closed his eyes, furrowed his eyebrows, and rested his face in his hands.

“It sounds like you have asthma,” he told me in Japanese. “Did any doctor in America ever tell you that you had asthma?”

“………………No…………….” I said.

“Your right lung is damaged from coughing so much. It’s probably a complication from the seasonal allergies,” he continued, pulling a laminated sheet with colorful charts off his desk, covered in kanji I couldn’t read. “Course – course of treatment –” he said suddenly switching to rusty English. “Treatment One. You’re wheezing.”

I left the clinic with a prescription allergy medication and an inhaler to try to calm the inflammation in my lungs over the next two weeks. The girls at the reception rang me up.

“That’ll be five hundred and ninety yen,” they told me. Five dollars.

That night, I stood in front of the mirror in my bathroom, hands curled around the plastic purple inhaler, and when I flipped the lever that released the medication and took a deep breath in, I felt the effects immediately. My lungs stopped shaking. The choking feeling in the back of my throat went away. This is so much better than kanpo, I thought. I slept on and off all weekend, the bags under my eyes slowly disappearing and the pain in the right side of my chest getting better with each passing day.

“You’re getting genki again!” my friends and teachers told me.

“I’m 80% genki!” I’d tell them. “Almost there!”

Each night, when I used the inhaler and sank into my futon, able to breathe again, I couldn’t help but feel pretty damn lucky to live in the age of modern medicine, and also pretty damn lucky to live in a country where my two doctor visits, three prescriptions, an inhaler came to a grand total of about $45.

“You are pretty lucky,” agreed my mom on the phone.

“Even if the cough syrup does have caffeine in it,” I conceded. 

[grimecrow]

On Thursday March 2nd I Nearly Succeeded In Killing Myself

So less than a week ago I nearly succeeded in ending my own life. How do I quantify the concept of nearly succeeding in such an action? I ended up about twenty feet from the water’s edge of Lake Ontario. Now you may say; twenty feet from the water? That’s not nearly succeeding at anything!

Well allow me to explain my beliefs regarding suicide. If a person wants to kill them self they should have the right to do it. Have I talked people out of committing suicide before? Yeah, sure lots of times; I have also at times said my good byes and left them to their own devices. Most people that say they want to kill themselves honestly don’t; no matter how much they may say the words, there is some piece of subconscious holding them back. That is why they sit there and look at the gun, or hesitate instead of automatically jumping or pour pills onto the table. Something has made them believing that they believe that this is the answer but they honestly know it isn’t. This sounds like I am making light of those people, or talking down about them but I am not. They have issues, they need help, they are lost in some manner and it is up to us to help them be found. Also remember no matter how uncertain a person is; we humans can psych ourselves up for a minute to do just about anything. So even though they don’t want to kill themselves for whatever conscious or unconscious reason they are most likely not fully aware of they can still convince themselves to do it. Jumping from bridges, ledges, balconies, or in front of trains are the biggest exit these people will successfully used as you don’t need to take an action you simply need to stop taking an action.

I believe if you want to kill yourself, make sure to do it in a slow and agonizing way. My preference is drowning it takes a lot of time and effort to set yourself up to take the action and accomplish it. First there is the drowning checklist; leave bank cards others need; make sure I have no electronics, find a way to lock the door after I go but have the keys be safe at home things like that. Then I have to walk thirty to forty minutes to get to the water front; then find a place where there are no people as forcing people to watch another person die is a cruel and selfish thing to do if it can be avoided and there is a lot of lake front; it can be avoided. Also if people see you do it they will want to stop you from doing it for whatever reason. The whole process takes an hour or more of relentless, methodical action and if I have doubts I stop because I know I don’t want to do it no matter how much my conscious mind may fleetingly think I do.

On Thursday night, I didn’t hesitate for one second; every barrier, every trick, all of it...nope I was done and to be honest it would have been wonderful. The night was so cold, the water even colder; with a surface temperature of 5 degrees (40 for you Americans) jumping in would have after the first few moments been like simply falling asleep.

Yet here I am; so apparently I didn’t want to do it right? Wrong! I was snookered the same way you can snooker anyone who is a good or caring person. I was guilted into surviving by Mitch. I shouldn’t live for wanting to live; I shouldn’t live for any reason of my own but I should live because it would hurt others too much. I shouldn’t free myself from my difficulties because of the momentary difficulty it would inflict on others. It is a shitty thing to do to a person, it is selfish, and unkind everyone I’ve talked to who wanted to kill themselves, really and truly and still do but got snookered with the ’Don’t be selfish, think about me’ play all agree. If you haven’t been in the other side, the suicidal side of that play then you won’t understand but I will explain.

First off; it resolves nothing. I still want to kill myself, that feeling won’t go away now but seeing as I let the ‘live for others’ card trump me going off and killing myself immediately after is an impossibility. If I kill myself right after then instead of them being selfish, I’m being the selfish one as I agreed to continue an existence for them but decided ‘Nah, it’s all about me after all’ ALSO the wounds inflicted on everyone would be ten fold. The wounds of the death plus the wounds of failing to prevent the death stacking on top and such double down hurt can start a chain reaction that only goes exponentially. So now I’m stuck here. Secondly; the person who does the snookering cannot always solve the problems of the person who wanted to end their life. So not only do I get to not resolve my suicidal feelings, I am forced to just mask them but I still get to go through all the pain that lead me to that point WITH the added bonus of knowing that freedom from those issues was within my grasp which of course can potentially be a breeding ground of resentment and regret.

So why did I want to kill myself? The automatic answer is depression, because society has wrong white washed the issues of suicide with the depression brush. I personally believe the companies paid a lot of money to set that in motion to sell depression medication to as many people as possible whether they actually needed it or not; anyone familiar with how kids were diagnosed and treated in the 90’s can see the merit of my belief. I am not depressed. Some times I get depressed but I don’t suffer from depression; my head doctor tried every way possible to find proof of depression when I talk about wanting to kill myself but she admits when I am truly wanting and willing to kill myself; depression as it is clinically known is no where around.

Growing up I knew a lot of people who killed themselves for reasons other than depression; Mary and Ursula were an older lesbian couple. Mary was diagnosed with untreatable lung cancer Ursula suffered from a nervous system disorder that confined her to a wheelchair and she couldn’t live on her own. The system had failed her multiple times resulting in many horrible things happening to her, on her own her benefits would not give her enough to live and hire someone who would take care of her without suffering terrible things and she only had a couple of years left anyhow so...they had a nice dinner, gave out some gifts to friends, went home watched an episode of a show they loved and together jumped from their balcony onto the roof of the Food Basics at the top of Winchester ave. There was a gay man who loved books named John, he had AIDS and the time came where he had to keep an oxygen tank near by cause his lungs would kick out. He was going blind, no longer had control over his bathroom functions, and was in constant pain. He told me that one day he may not reach for the oxygen tank when his lungs gave out; I was young at the time and didn’t know if I believed him or not but with no cure; minimal function of body I understood why he wanted to end his suffering. A couple of days later he died. I don’t know if it was just the natural end of life with AIDS or his choice but I will not lie I hope it was his choice. I hope he got to end his own suffering.

We put down our pets when they reach a point when they are going to suffer for too large of the time they continue to live; or suffer fiercely by the act of living. Plenty of people believe and support assisted dying bills and yet suicide is a terrible concept. One that has to be able to be solved by pills of Cognative Behavioral whatever its called. Don’t get me wrong both those things have their merits and on a case by case basis they can help solve issues but they are not the be all and end all. No amount of happy thoughts will stop my body from twisting and cramping up if any type of sheet is placed on me. Sometimes I have to sleep on the couch and use Zayne’s comforter; there is pain I just push through it. I can’t say “Today I am going to get up and have two functioning legs!” and have it happen; I can’t say; “I am not going to see things!” and have it work because I still see them; I know they are not there and that doesn't stop them from not appearing, not having me question what is or isn’t real. No anti-psychotic, no anti-depressant, no anti-anxiety medication will make my hands work right all the time, allow me to sit or stand or lay down with no pain. Actually there is one that could solve all the problems and if this was as late as the 1970’s I definitely would have been put on it. Lithium; the beautiful gift of a chemical lobotomy; my brain would be destroyed so I wouldn’t have enough awareness to know if I suffered at all and I could be tucked in a corner so as not to wound people by actually dying.

So what made me want to kill myself? Well my laundry list of physical and mental issues are rather long but a body that doesn’t function or is in pain about 80% of the time denying me the ability to sit, stand, sleep, walk, hold things. Assuming I’m not striking myself in the head, seeing things, unaware of reality, having night terrors, screaming fits and all the other gifts of anxiety and PTSD. I have a medical system that notes all my symptoms are real but has never found a fix; just nodding their heads and running the same circle of bullshit as things degenerate. There are also other issues I won’t get into on a public forum that exasperate the conditions and issues. So yes, last Thursday I decided I had enough; I was tired, not just physically tired but mentally and emotionally tired and I didn’t see the point in continuing this existence. Now there are the standard talking points about loved ones and happy moments; allow me to answer those talking points now. A happy moment for me can be that my physical and mental issues (which may be physical in origin due to misfiring something or other) are dormant enough that I can simply exist with a functioning body and a basically functioning mind free of large amounts of pain or defect. That percentage of time has dropped to be roughly about 20% of my time; or a hair less. All you pet owners, and people who know the general cultural understanding of pets if someone said to you; “This creature will be in some form of suffering 80% of the time” what is our answer? It’s always the answer of those that allow themselves to hurt for the sake of doing the humane thing no matter how much it destroys you; you put them down.

After ten years of documentation, tests trials, prescriptions, treatments, etc there is no sign that anything can or will get better and the degradation scale has been increasing rapidly the last five or six years. I will never work again, apparently you need mobility of steady hand functionality or the ability to be around people without having an uncontrollable freak out of some kind. If I publish Kaw it will take far longer than it should because of my huge swathes of lack of functionality. I can sit here and stare at it knowing that I should be doing something and be frustrated, and hate myself and my situation that I can’t. But I go out now you say? I play Heroclix once in a while, I go on walks, things like that and at some points I was so psychotically unstable I couldn’t leave the house without having melt downs beyond my functional control. Yes, yes I do those things, and the stress of doing those things either aggravates my body ailments or ruins my mental stability. A Heroclix tournament is a guaranteed trip to “Night Terrors” or “Nightmares That Erase My Ability To Process Reality”; a Pokemon Go walk will definitely twist my legs up; they will pop and be unable to not be tense, twitch and cramp mind you not going on the walk means I get torso issues along with lesser leg issues. Hand functionality, the processing ability and stability of ears, and eyes is hit or miss with any scenario. I have a hard time reading a book cause the book ends up shaking from the prolonged effect of using my hands to hold it, same with game controllers, and typing, my one hand is killing me at the moment. Listening to music, watching videos, sleeping all also come with their own costs that will be paid whether I kick and scream against them or roll with them. Oh what a fun existence I have to look forward to!

What about loved ones? Well most of the time I can no longer handle interacting with you in person without paying for it later. My schedule is so erratic in terms of wellness that I just put my shoulder in it and let what ever costs come once everyone is gone and there are always costs. Now I could avoid the extra costs by not interacting with people outside my ever changing schedule so I get to sit home alone and do nothing. I love interacting with you all by the way when I can or do but if you notice there are far less events, far less get togethers and there is a reason for that.

Hell, all food regardless of what it is, how much, when I eat how I eat it basically is just an unpleasant experience that has blended together and sits like a lump of wet paper mache in my system being unpleasant till it has been processed enough. So yes I decided after years of this, with the progression of things and the loss of Zayne (yes, my dog) who was something that I could simply exist with in a way that I cannot exist with any other thing, including my husband. Those other issues came up one more time and I was so tired I decided that because things would never get better; that it was a majority of pain, and uncontrollable crazy, and all of that I would finally grant myself the same right to mercy that I hate myself for granting to Zayne because of how much I have hurt while ensuring he wouldn’t. Yet because I am NOT a selfish person, I could have easily honestly pushed Mitch aside and been on my way but after the conversation we had I knew it would be too damaging I am still here. He even apologized at the time because he knew what he was doing was a cruel trick but he had to do it anyhow.

So here I am, and will be for quite awhile more reminiscing at how wonderful it would have been to let go and plodding along wondering how long the next severe bought of whatever will last. Hating myself for wanting to do so many things that are simple for the majority of the rest of you that I can’t do or will stumble through crudely. Here I am continuing to live for the others that want me to.

Some of you may want to say; “If you need to talk I’m here” and some of you may say; “You need to talk to me more” but what am I supposed to say. The same things I have been complaining about for years; that have been getting worse for years and still have zero chance of going away are still happening? Just say that over and over again, the same news of what hurts, what my current crazy has rotated back to, and what’s my degree of functionality? There is nothing to talk about anymore though I will say I love everyone who wanted to say those words because they care that much.

Anyhow that’s what happened last Thursday night, I felt my friends would want to know and didn’t want to give the same details and answer the same questions over and over and over again so here we are. I am telling you and answering the questions and concerns I expect you to have because they are always the same questions and concerns people have in times like these. If I didn’t tell people and they found out later they would get angry and offended because they always have and always will.

If some of this has seemed bitter and negative I actually do apologize I’m still swallowing a pill that has left a bitter taste in my proverbial mouth.

[precious-boring-life-blog]

Whirlwind of Fuckery.

😈Today is Tuesday. Saturday was the last day I wrote, if I'm not mistaken. What all has happened? Hmm.. Let me think. Tons of bullshit with that older man. Promises not kept. Lies that I KNOW are being told, but don't dare go in with full-blown accusations, because he has money.. & since I'm on a run, I always need dope. Whatever. He left me hanging all day yesterday while I kept stringing Chris along all day & he kept stringing HIS dude along all day... Finally, after getting dropped off at 10 AM, receiving a promise he'd return at 1 o'clock and we would go & get a bag... Then proceeding to wait ALL day while being fed some bullshit... I finally mustered up some mojo & formulated a plan to get my own shit. Had to create a huge Smorgasbord of a lie to convince my dad out of $40 for dinner & a movie with NA people. Yeah.... I'm bottom-of-the-barrel terrible & although that rhyme sounded cool, it's not meant to be lighthearted. For some reason when I wrote that down about my dad, I feel super awful & ashamed all of a sudden. Honestly, I fucking should, too. My parents have sacrificed so much to try and save me from my addiction to heroin & I have thrown it down the drain AGAIN. I don't know how they haven't caught on or kicked me out yet. My mom has asked me multiple times & all except once, several weeks ago, it's something I always deny. Still.... Can't help but wonder... A part of me feels like they have got to fucking know. I had Chris pick me up last night around 6, & the timing was perfect. I needed to leave before 6:30 and be gone until at least 11. Problem solved. We went back to his house, I smoked my whole sack up quick despite a weak willed promise to myself I'd save a LITTLE bit for the morning. Blazed a bowl & a joint of this weed also procured from this older man. Then we fell asleep on his bed until tapping on the ajoined bathroom window from the porch woke us up - it was just Abraham returning home from work in Royal City. I came home & passed the fuck out from midnight until basically 11 AM. I did wake up once around 6, managed to stumble out into the kitchen while my dad was sitting at his computer & bum a smoke from him. After several long drags, I smashed the smelly, cancerous slave-driver of a product face first into the glass ashtray on the stove ; small round and clear with a psychedelic heart painted in the center, it was a gift from my mother. I shuffle back to my bedroom shut the door dive back into warm covers turn a pill bottle over into my palm, two little hot pink ovals pop em into my mouth and away to sleep I go. Benadryl only works like that (for inducing sleep) whenever I'm high. While sober it didn't have that effect. Weird, whatever... Unimportant! Really, though, none of what I've written on this blog so far is important. Just the loaded ramblings of a 25 year old on-going, off-again junkie loser without a future, destined to die probably living in this same fucking room. When I finally woke up again, 5 hours after popping those allergy meds in hopes of them doing exactly what they actually did (sleeeeep💗) I hung out around the house with my Ma. A&E has started showing a trailer advertising the February 20th premiere of the new & FINAL season of a show we binge-watched on Netflix together & fell in love with... Sooo that means Netflix added new episodes of Bates Motel! We watched at least 6-7 episodes I think. Old guy hit me up saying he wanted to buy a sack; had $100. He didn't want to go pick anyone up other than me (which was a problem) because Chris wasn't answering & Kayleigh is in jail, poor thing. After bullshitting with Andy Packard for a bit on when his dude was going to pick him up & then meet us... I wasn't sure if I believed that was really going to happen, so I decided to take a chance. Instructed Romeo to swoop me and drive me up past the car wash. Had him park further back then normal, and decided to try my luck knocking on the bathroom window of the Naab house. BOOM. IT WORKED. I'M IN. Fucker was sleeping all day. I had just seen him the night before (he dropped me off just after 11) but apparently he didn't didn't go to bed until 9 o'clock this morning. Anyways. He called his dude. I told my ride / ATM to wait over at the gas station (GOD I'M AN ASSHOLE) and while waiting Packard called me ten times cause guys dude was in the way, I made up some story we got pulled over on the other side of town & "homeboy" got arrested on a warrant outta Kittitas County. The little Mexican teenager Chris goes through showed up (we heard his car crunching over snow & ice out in the driveway) so my buddy ran out, and minutes later returned with a nice hefty chunk of some super-fire, or as fire as it gets around these podunk parts. I smoked two pieces with him, as a peace offering for waking him up, broke off some more and put it in a second baggie hidden stealthily away in my right sock, and called my ride to swoop me back up. We get to his house, do all of the bag (aside from what I had hidden) and talk about my plan to get off this shit using subs - subs he got from his coworker that are waiting in his locker at work... Subs that he is supposed to be bringing me shortly after his shift ends at 7 AM Wednesday morning. This morning. Today. I hope to God he comes through with those. I worry, because while he HAS done alot for me he has also been pretty flaky on a couple occasions. I've actuality been sitting on a message in my FB inbox from him that I need to reply to NOW (not purposefully avoiding it, I just honestly keep forgetting) so he stays engaged and it's still thinking about me (so I can get those subs here in the next 6 hours). Very important. Pause all of this ; I'm going to reply to him now. OH, but I cleaned out my tooter less than a minute ago & it was funky full, for all variables considered... So honestly I'm gonna hit this real quick & THEN reply. &&&&& I'M BAAAAACK. 😈💗😐 So I'm back. One more hit real quick. Smoking my last cig for the night. Oh boy... I told myself I'd be going to bed early tonight; it's now closing in on 3 AM. I have to be awake at a quarter to seven (6:45- DON'T FORGET TO SET AN ALARM, DUMMY) to meet J. Romeo for those subs when he gets off work. Please, good lord, PLEASE... Let him come through. Please, please, pleeeease. 🙏 Soon as I finish this little blurb of a blog.... Well, what was supposed to be a quick daily check in / drug-a-log... I skipped the last 2 days since Saturday so this entry turned into more of an amphetamine-fueled nonsensical novel HAH! (If a statement could ever perfectly describe my style of writing... That would be it 😂) but as soon as I'm done with this cigarette, I have to be done with this entry. Then, I'm going to brush my teeth, put Neosporin on my face (which I picked to hell and back this evening...sad day) and try to pee one last time... Then I'm crawling into bed, setting a 15-minute timer, and doing a Stream of Consciousness exercise (S.O.C.). Basically the concept is just to set a timer and do not stop writing until the bell. Sense doesn't need to be made nor does punctuation really need to be used. The idea is just to spill your guts, your heart, your soul, out onto the pages. Free your mind from the hamster wheel of worry and thought by expelling it onto the empty lines of a journal. Cigarette is done. Think I might just do the rest of that bag right now... Fuuck it. One last hurrah; thirty dollar chunk of fuego and a few pages of chicken-scratch prose. Debating... Debating... I'm already pretty high... I don't know if he will come through for SURE with those subs... If he doesn't, & I smoked this all tonight, I'm screwed. I'm screwed either way without em, whether I smoke now or not... Totally irrelevant. If he does, I will be so relieved. I will be able to get off this shit, finally... After TWO FUCKING MONTHS. WHAT HAPPENED? WHERE DID THE TIME GO? HOW THE FUCK DID I END UP HERE? Why on earth did I decide to go back out? I don't want to live like this anymore... Please Goddess, hear my cry & help me. Please let him come through with those Suboxone, that is my one and only hope.