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lustbile-archive · 3 years

Text

Abandoned Part 2

MarkxReader

Word Count: 7.4k+

Summary/Warnings: You can try to pretend that the monster you met on halloween night didn’t actually exist, and you can definitely pretend that he didn’t do what he did. You can pretend all you want but that doesn’t change anything, and it also doesn’t change the fact that you cant stop thinking about him every night. Monster!Mark

PART 1 HERE

It took you about three full weeks before you could return to the warehouse again. It wasn’t that you weren’t thinking about it, you thought about it every single day in fact. The building itself stood tall right in the center of town, looming over you and everyone else who was blissfully unaware of what lived in its walls, and you were forced to pass it every single day of your life.

So no, its not that you weren’t thinking about it, or him more specifically, but the fear of facing the truth of what had happened that night, what you had done and let him do to you, made you avoid the building like the plague. Just the cringe you got from remembering the unconvincing lie you had to conjure to explain to your friend why you returned with wrinkled clothes stained with black liquid made you wish the building would just disappear.

You’d drop your eyes whenever you had to pass by the building, a queasy and unsure bile stinging your throat, and every time your friend would bring up your little halloween adventure to impress someone irrelevant, you’d brush it off with a comment of, ‘nothing really interesting happened, just an old gross building.’

But your avoidance or denial did nothing to erase him from your mind. He plagued your dreams, lived freely in your thoughts and every minuscule space in your bones. The things your mind subjected you to in your unconscious state, for any other person, would be things of nightmares.

Everything was all sharp teeth, a thick dripping black liquid, and a grinning boy whose tongue was longer than your forearm danced in your fantasies like the building blocks for your own personal fucked up prince charming.

But regardless, the idea of seeing and experiencing him again, and maybe even stealing a few answers in the process, pulled you to the building like a magnet. The whistling air the ran through the rooms, the broken glass, and crumbling walls called to you like a siren, and after three weeks of denying it, you were getting dressed and sneaking out in the middle of the night to go find him.

It was colder than it was on halloween, the biting cold of a dark November night greeting you as you escaped the walls of your home. Every step you took as you walked to your fate was followed by a harsh bite pressed deeply against your bottom lip, and the moment you were faced with the same decrepit door way that you and your friend had snuck into that night, you knew that it was the point of no return.

Trekking through the rubble of the old building was different now that you were alone. Every room devoid of light felt darker, the creaking of wood louder, and it felt like every step you took was seen by millions of invisible eyes. The only thing that stopped you from letting out a yelp in surprise when a couple of large rats ran directly in front of you, was the fear that something other than the creature you were searching for would hear and find you before he could.

It took you about half an hour to find the room again, but your lack of company and the fact that you kept your arms wound tightly around yourself stopping you from reaching for your phone made it feel like an eternity. You silently scold yourself for not remembering better, or leaving some form of marker to remind you where to go, but as you finally stand in front of the glass filled room, the only feelings that truly remain in your chest is the dread of unknowing and a silent wish that your search had taken just a little longer.

The door to the room lets out a jarring scream that echoes down the halls and makes you flinch as you push it open. The heavy metal has become uneven with age and scraps along the floor loudly, and you find yourself conflicted in hoping that the sounds you cause tipped the creature off to your presence and praying that he didn’t hear it at all.

You cringe as your breath and heartbeat are the only noises that drum against your ears after the door slams shuts behind you. And as you stand frozen in the hallow room, a small part of you is disappointed that he’d isn’t standing there waiting like your knight in shining armor.

The glass still glitters just as beautifully as it had so many nights before, and you almost curse it for being the thing that got you into your position in the first place.

But as you stand scowling at the inanimate pieces, it’s at this moment you realize you have no idea how to get him to know you’re there, as well as realizing that you’re not sure if you want him to know as it would mean you’d have to face something that you hadn’t even fully decided was real.

Your mind was still struggling to wrap itself around the events that had happened in the room that you stand in, and even with proof that the room at least exists, you can feel your mind trying to convince you that you had completely fabricated the creature. Something about the air that whips around you makes you feel like your losing your sense of reality, and with a last push of courage you decide there’s only one way to learn whether or not your mind is turning against you.

With a timid tone and a slight crack to your voice, you whisper out a quiet ‘hello’ as you finally move further into the room, your shaky voice bouncing off the cement walls almost as if to mock you.

When you’re met with nothing but deafening silence, you try once again only slightly louder.

You finally untangle yourself from your own arms, the heat you had accumulated almost immediately spilling from the sleeves of your sweater as you move to pull your phone from the band of your skirt and bush the button that will illuminate the room with its flashlight.

You let out a few more calls, the tension slipping from your shoulders each time before you find yourself pushing around the glass with your shoe as if you were kicking rocks. You almost cover the entire surface area of the desolate room and start to even slip into boredom before you have to face the fact that you are most definitely avoiding any space within three feet of the pitch black doorway of the closet that the creature had emerged from the first time you saw him.

With a deep breath that rattles your chest, you move closer to what feels like the visual representation of your personal demise. Glass loudly crunches under your shoes as you get closer and closer to the doorway and it feels like your heart has made residence in your throat.

You feel like your getting closer to a forbidden world as you now stand less than a foot away from the space who’s only hint of life had been the boy you had seen weeks ago, your flashlight close enough now to illuminate it a bit, but the only thing the article light exposes is a blank wall that mocks you.

The voice that resides in the back of your mind screams at you to turn around and leave, but your body moves with a mind of its own as you take your first step into the closet.

Without thinking, you lean forward, your hand pressing gently against the cinder wall that acts as the back of the small closet. You’ve convinced yourself that maybe it’s a false wall, that it will collapse and reveal the boy that’s lived in your dreams for so many nights. You feel slightly silly letting your mind wander to something that’s only been done in mystery novels, but considering you’re looking for a boy with a shark teeth and a demon’s tongue nothing seems imposible now.

With a harder shove and a deep huff from your chest, you start to cave into yourself for being foolish enough to let yourself believe in a secret passageway. You’re ready to tuck your tail between your legs and run out of the building in shame, when you feel something softly brush your shoulder.

Just the same as last time you jump, your phone slipping from your fingers and falling to the floor. A muffled crackling noise telling you that the crack that ran from one corner to the dead center of your screen had just been made bigger and even possibly had gained a few acquaintances. The sound of the loud yelp that leaves you being the only sound to join it other than the quiet gasp that comes from beside you.

He’s close enough that you can make out his features regardless of the dark, his mouth hanging in a soft o shape and his eyebrows lifted towards his hairline in shock from your reaction. You both stand there for a moment, a heavy silence between you showing that he was just as shaken by your presence as you were with his. And as realization and reality begin to bleed back into both of your brains, you feel your muscles relax as you lean back against the wall and the black liquid starts to drip out of his mouth again in excitement.

His eyes dance with happiness at seeing you again, the sight endearing enough that you’re weirdly unaffected by the liquid that begins to splash on the floor between his feet. With the images that had filled your mind for the past weeks, you find yourself pleasantly surprised by how cute he is, also slightly disappointed in yourself for letting yourself forget.

“Hi,” you speak first, your voice airy with relief. He’s not even half as scary as you had convinced yourself, and you could feel your heart start to beat rapidly at the sight of his excited grin, sharp teeth and all.

“I didn’t think you’d come back!” he speaks louder than you expected, his giddiness making you smile but his words slightly breaking your heart.

You only get a moment to sulk over the idea of him thinking he’d never see you again, before he’s all but jumping on you and latching his dripping mouth to your neck.

You freeze for a moment, the shock of his eagerness and the tingle that runs up your spine at the scrape of his teeth making you mind skip a beat. You almost allow him to continue on, greedily accepting the feeling of his warm tongue lapping at your skin, but your consciousness returns to you quickly enough that you can will yourself to lift your arms and gently push him away.

There’s a wet pop as he reluctantly pulls away, his mouth leaving a trail of liquid behind to drip down your skin. You’re ashamed of yourself for the way your heart clenches at his look of confusion and disappointment, but you tell yourself you can’t let anything happen again without talking to him and getting answers.

“You don’t have to do that,” you whisper gently, your hands sliding up to hold the sides of his face.

You’re both slightly panting already, your breath puffing from the feeling of his mouth, but his seems to come from his confusion and worry.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologizes, his eyes widening as his words spill out, “you seemed to enjoy it last time so I thought… you did like it last time didn’t you?”

You smile softly at his concern, “I did,” your head bobbing slightly to reassure him, “I did a lot. I just- we can talk first. Like what’s your name?’’

His eyebrows thread together, his head tilting to the side reminding you of a confused puppy, “name?”

Just the one word asked with a questioning tone threw you off, and it takes you a moment to collect your thoughts enough to understand you’ll have to explain what a name is.

“You know…” your hands move away from his face as they flail slightly as you think, his own hands compensating for the lack of physical contact by landing on the bend of your back, “like is there something specific that people call only you. Y’know to get your attention and stuff.”

“Oh!” he says, excited to understand slightly better, “well…. my friends call me Mark!”

“Mark…” you test out the weirdly normal name on your tongue, a small spike of shame running through you at the fact that you assumed it would be anything different, “cool…”

You offer your own name, the way his eyes light up at the syllables making your chest swell. There’s a beat of silence after he takes his turn in repeating your name, and you can feel yourself melting into the moment.

“I wanted to talk to you more,” he speaks up again, his fingers flexing against your back as his tongue dips out to wet his lips, “but I had to run off, and you took longer to come back then I thought so like…. but we can talk now!”

Your chest feels hallow when he mentions the time it took you to return, and you start to stutter to defend yourself, “well I.. what happened I had… I had never had someone do what you did so quickly after meeting so like, I’ll admit I was a little freaked out by the whole thing.”

“I didn’t mean to freak you out,” he steps closer, his body heat crowding you and blocking you from the cold air, “you just smelled and tasted so good… I wished you had said something.”

“No no no,” you rush to correct him, the idea of him thinking any different from how you actually felt stressing you out, “maybe freaked out was the wrong word. Um, it did throw me off a little, but I liked it. I feel like you could probably tell how much I liked it.”

“Yeah..” you both huff out a breath of air after the word lingers around you, “towards the end though you… what was that?”

“The end? I mean um, I came if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Came?”

“Oh you know, an orgasm?”

“Orgasm?”

You huff, your mind reeling at the idea of having to explain another word that came so naturally to you. You shake your head softly in disbelief, before taking a deep breath.

“Yeah, you know,” you start trying to string the right words together to describe such a thing, “you know when you did what you did. And you know what happened at the end. It felt good the whole time, but at the end it felt really really good. I’m sorry I’ve never explained this before.”

He laughs at your exasperated expression, before leaning his forehead against yours, “that sounds weird,” his bluntness makes you choke a bit on your breath before he continues, “can I do that?”

“Do it…?” you feel like your brain is working a million miles a minute as you stand with him in the pitch black, “I mean yeah, probably.”

“Probably?” his laugh almost taunts you, and you start to believe that he may be messing with you slightly, “do you think we could try?”

“You mean you want me to,” you gesture to his crotch, your eyes darting between his eyes and the space between his thighs, “like we have sex.”

“Okay,” he reasons, his head shaking as he pulls you even closer, “I’m clearly not getting this, but if sex will make an orgasm happen then yeah, I want to have sex.”

“Right,” you say, your face warming in embarrassment as you start to remember that whatever the boy that’s in front of you is, the last thing he is is a child. He knew enough to do what he did to you the first time, there’s no real reason for you to be beating around the bush like you are, “cool.”

“Cool.”

Any anxiety that still lingers in your chest, you swallow down, your hands lifting to return to the sides of his face in the process. With a soft sigh, you tilt your chin up, your forehead brushing against his as you move to press your mouth against his.

If it wasn’t for the first time you met him, you probably would have never dared to put your mouth against the mouth of a boy who drools a thick black slime. But with his slightly chapped lips brushing eagerly against yours, and the fact that the liquid slips into your mouth warm and smooth pushes any questions you may have out of your mind.

His lips are sloppy, his lips covering yours as he tries to follow your movements. He seems to be very aware of how sharp his teeth are, as they scrape gently across your bottom lip just enough that they won't break the skin. Your eyes slide shut and a soft moan rolls from your chest as he presses you flush against the wall.

It’s not hard to dip your tongue experimentally into his mouth as if hangs open in awe of the situation. You greedily lick across the roof of his mouth, reveling in the way it makes him shiver against you, and it's only a moment before you realise how much you're enjoying the taste of the liquid that spills from his mouth into yours.

It’s a soft sweetness, a dull taste that only hits you when you’ve had enough of it spill onto your tongue that it's dripping from the corners of your lips. The after taste of cotton candy after a long day at the fair, the smell of fresh strawberries so strong that you can taste it like a memory on the back of your tongue, licking your thumb to get rid of a smudge on your friend’s cheek only to taste the remains of the piece of candy she gave you hours ago. And as he pushes himself in the space between your legs in the cramped space, you can feel yourself fall into an addiction with the way he tastes.

He follows in your steps, his own tongue hesitantly dipping itself into your mouth along with the sticky substance, and when you feel the sharp tapered end of his tongue lick at the back of your teeth, you waste no time in sucking harshly on the muscle and pulling it deeper in your mouth.

The way the liquid coats your tongue makes you feel like you're swimming in syrup. Your body relaxed and lax to the extent that even when you feel his long tongue prod at the back of yours, your gag reflex is non existent, and you start to question if it just tastes good, or if it's truly making you lose yourself against his lips.

When he moves slowly away from your mouth to travel across your cheek, is when you finally get a moment to think. His tongue drags out of your mouth at a snail’s pace, the tip curling and tugging at the corner of your lips making you let out the first sound that’s not muffled by the space of his mouth, and you feel him grin against your jaw.

“Mark,” you try his name out once again as your hands move against him. One hand curls around the back of his head to thread your fingers through his wild hair, as you use your other to push the moment along.

You drag your nails slowly down his arm, your lip tucking between your teeth with a grin when he shudders again. When your hand finally reaches behind you, you wrap your fingers around his wrist. It doesn’t take much strength to tug his hand away from you back, and even less effort is needed when you guide his twitching fingers to slip under your sweater to press against your chest through the thin bra you wear underneath.

After flexing your own hand over his a few times, he picks up immediately. His own fingers kneading softly at the flesh, as your hand falls to leave him to his own devices and reach underneath your skirt.

It only takes a few tugs at the fabric of your underwear for them to pool around your ankles, and with a few steps and a small kick, the fabric is forgotten on the dirty floor a few feet away.

His tongue is back to showing its full potential, the thick muscle curling around your neck as he mouths at the skin below your jaw, and your traveling hand now dips into the band of his pants to tug him closer to you, your hips softly canting against his.

“Mark, please,” you quietly plead. He hums curiously as his body curls tighter against yours and you’re reminded that it’s better to be blunt with the boy against you, “can I take this off?”

“Yes,” he mutters against your neck, treating the sensitive skin protecting your jugular as if it’s his source of life and refusing to move away, “please.”

You tilt your head the best to your ability with the way his tucked against you, your own teeth desperately biting like a rabid animal to get as many bites at his soft skin as you can, your hand moving to push the fabric of his bottoms down his hips until you can feel his length release from the restraints.

You waste no time to wrap your hand around the base of him, and as you move your palm and fingers to drag up the length of him, you can’t help the quiet gasp you let out.

He’s bigger than you’d imagine he’d be with how slight his frame is, and even as you remind yourself that your sense of touch is probably tricking you a bit into thinking it's larger than reality, you know it’s not tricking you with the fact that something is slightly different.

It’s not abnormal in any sense, which isn’t surprising since, aside from the tongue and teeth, Mark just looks like a normal human guy, but some nagging in your mind tells you there’s something that’s unique.

You chance a glance down, rolling your eyes at yourself for letting your curiosity override your full knowledge that it’s probably too dark to see anything, but to you’re very pleasant surprise, you see that regardless of the busted screen, the flashlight of your phone still shines brightly enough to light up the space around your feet.

There’s still shadows dancing across you as you slowly begin to stroke him as he’s pressed against your hip, but you take what you can get in the moment.

Your hand had tricked you a bit, he wasn’t as large as your fingers had told you, but he’s still larger than expected. Though, your eyebrow raises slightly at the rest of the visual information you see. The swollen tip leaks a similar black as his lips, and you silently wish you were more shocked by the fact. And truthfully the small dusting of a royal blue color that covers the tip of him doesn’t fully surprise you either, but you admit the two bulbs that you can only describe as knot-like that rest above his base does give you a weird combination of confusions and excitement in your chest.

You shake your head, silently deciding you had come too far to act surprised now, so instead you brush your thumb against the liquid that now spills from his tip, and start to guide him closer by wrapping one leg around his hip.

His hand that’s not busied by groping at your chest jumps immediately to wrap around your lifted knee, his body pressing tighter against yours and a groan rattling against your neck in response.

You hesitate before you go any further, everything feeling suddenly too fast, and in an attempt to drag it out just a little longer, you let go of him. Regardless of the way it makes you feel, you ignore the quiet sound of disappointment he lets out against your skin, and instead run your hand up your body and across both yours and his neck to collect as much of the liquid on your fingers as possible.

It’s only when you feel like you’ve dipped your hand in thinned honey, do you return to the space between you where both of your bodies are begging for attention. You coat his skin in his own mess, the quiet noises he makes filling your ear again.

You pull him closer with your leg, finally allowing yourself some relief as you begin to drag his head against your dampened skin, the warm tip bumping against your clit in a way that makes your hips twitch.

The liquid worked as well as you had hoped as you slowly guide him to press into you, his slicked skin making the intrusion perfect and smooth. It doesn’t take any time at all before he’s seated fully inside you, and the way he stretches you out makes your head tilt back until it knocks against the cinder of the wall and your fingers harshly tug at the strands of hair caught between them.

You hold him against you for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being completely full and the small hums in content he lets out along your own. You feel your body flutter around him as you try to adjust to the foreign feeling of him, the widened bulbs around his base stretching your farther than you had ever imagined. His body reacts to you clenching with stuttering hips that aid in the air being knocked from your lungs and his monstrous tongue flexes around your throat tighter, slowing the blood flow to your head and making you feel like you’re floating in the dark space.

“You feel so good,” he speaks truthfully, his voice muffled and strained as he speaks around his extended tongue, his sharp teeth scraping against your skin as he slurs.

“Okay,” you find your voice finally as you start to calm down. One hand falls from his hair, trailing slowly down his body making him shiver against you, and finally gripping at his hip, “you can move.”

With your words, you push him slightly away from you. Your body clenches in protest at losing even the few inches of him that slips from him, the space that he slips from already becoming greedy for the heavy weight of him inside you.

He must agree with your hungry body, as even though he stays pressed against you everywhere else, he lets out a small whine at the feeling of you pushing him away.

The sounds of protest quickly die when you slip your hand under his shirt to press into the small of his back. Your nails dig slightly into his soft skin as you pull him to fuck into you again, every inch of him dragging against the nerves inside you perfectly making your teeth clench. He in return lets out a pleased purr that makes a goofy grin stretch across your lips.

“Just like that,” you whisper against the shell of his ear, before you let your own tongue slip out to lick at the sensitive skin. His hips stutter again as he chokes slightly, but thankfully the action doesn’t affect him enough to distract him from being a quick learner.

He pulls out about the same amount you had shown him, the widest parts of him tugging at your opening slightly from how snugly you’re wrapped around him, something about him moving on his own this time making your eyes flutter and roll.

Though he retreated gently, his excitement seems to take over his senses, as when he thrusts back into you, it's rough. Any air you had collected since he first filled you escapes again, a surprised yelp joining it.

Once he gets a taste of controlling the motions, it's as if something snaps inside of him. As if he’s become slightly wild, he starts to move faster and faster with each thrust. His hips are sloppy and erratic, his drool almost doubling in volume as its pools and drips around your neck, and for a moment you silently ask yourself what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Your hand remains on his back, your nails now digging harshly into the skin of his back in a desperate attempt to have something solid to cling on to. Your head knocks into the wall behind you with his thrusts, but the feeling of him drilling into you as your combined fluids drip around him turns your brain to mush and any pain is drowned out by the pleasure that bites at your stomach.

Broken syllables and slurs of his name and pleads slip through your teeth as you start to lose yourself to his rapid movements, and you're only vaguely aware of the way your own hips start to rock against him.

The way his body twists and presses against you makes it almost impossible to hold on to him, this and the small voice inside your head that tells you that this probably won’t be lasting as long as you may hope makes your hand move up and away. Instead of holding onto his back, you desperately grope to find the hand that still presses against your chest.

Slipping your fingers under your shirt along with his, you tug his stubborn hand away from your chest. His fingers are stiff with confusion as you pull his hand down your body until it’s tucked between your legs, but when you press the tips of them against your dampened skin he relaxes.

“Here,” you whisper again, your voice almost too timid to raise in the crowded space. Your fingers begin to move in slow circles guiding his to do the same as they press softly against your neglected clit, “touch me here please.”

After the words leave you, you remove your hand to rejoin the other that’s still tucked into his messy hair. Mark shows to be a quick and eager learner, as his digits swipe against your buzzing nerves perfectly, the feeling pushing you closer and closer to your finish.

You fist his soft hair between your fingers, making both of your feet shuffle around the floor as his hips pulse quicker from the pain. You guide him again, his tongue dragging against the center of your throat and making you groan as you lead his mouth back to yours.

“Somethings happening,” he mutters before your mouth pushes against his, your lips greedily sucking at his warm tongue as you finally admit you’ve become obsessed with the taste of him, “feels so good.”

“Don’t stop,” both of your words are muffled and slurred as you refuse to move too far from the others tongues. You know he’s close, and the way he focuses on rolling smooth circles against you, you know you are too, “want you so bad Mark.”

The sound of his name sputtering out of your messy lips is his trigger, the sound of it hitting him in the chest and his lower belly, and soon he’s feeling washes of pleasure all over his form.

Regardless of the noises that slip from him and the way his hips become even sloppier than what they were before, his determined fingers never let up. This and the feeling of him coming deep inside you, a feeling that feels almost unending as he fills you with an inhuman amount of his come, has you reeling.

As if it was even possible, you cling to him even more. A tight knot snapping in your belly as you clench and shiver around him. Every moan and whine you let out matching his perfectly as they swirl together in the minuscule space between your mouths.

He doesn’t stop moving as he carries you through your finish, wet noises surrounding you as the evidence of his orgasm starts to push and drip out of your from the speed of his thrusts. The muscles in your back begin to go lax as you let him get in his last pushes as you anticipate him stopping soon, but after a moment you realize he’s not slowing down or even going soft inside you.

“Mark?” your head tilts as you break the sloppy kiss you share, but any other words that could follow up die on your tongue as his fingers continue to move and make sparks of almost painful pleasure shock your body

“Feels so good,” he repeats, his head falling until his forehead rests on your shoulder, and with a strained and shaky moan you realize he has no intention of stopping, “wanna make you feel good.”

“You did Mark, you-“ your words are cut off again by an overwhelmed moan leaving you at the feeling of him nudging against a spot inside you that makes your vision blur and your jaw drop.

“I could do this forever,” he promises, and for your sanity, you pray he’s exaggerating.

It feels as if your own body betrays you when you feel even more of your own arousal gush around him, or maybe you are losing your sanity and it’s only more of his come being forcibly pushed from your body by his hips. Either way, you feel a terrible promise of another overwhelming orgasm creeping down your spine.

His hand abandones it’s hold on your leg, as he wraps it around your waist again. His arm holds a surprising amount of strength as it squeezes relentlessly around you, and as he pulls you against him enough that your lower body is pulled away from the wall, the way he pushes into can only be described as animalistic.

Any hope of keeping quiet flies out the broken windows as the way he pulls you apart with his fingers and thrusts has inhuman sounds ripping their way out of your throat. Your nails claw harshly into his scalp, and your entire body thrashes in his hold, and for a moment you start to think he’s turning you into a monster just like himself.

The second orgasm is almost painful in the way it makes you fall apart. Your eyes ache from how far they roll back into your skull, and your back arches at the exact spot his arm is wrapped around you. You fear that the muscles in your abdomen may cramp from how rapidly they flex, and the arches of your feet join in from the way your toes curl.

Mark revels in the way you let go, he’s enthralled by the way you feel and look against him as you lose every ounce of your shame and guard. He’s sure however you’re feeling is different than the way he feels with his finish, and he loves nothing more than the idea that it’s him making such a beautiful creature fall apart by just fucking in to you.

The now familiar tightened feeling returns to his gut as he watches you. His hips pick up again as he chases the finish. He’s unsure what leaves his body when the pleasure overcomes him, but he’s for certain that he loves the feeling of it filling you completely to the brim and he wants nothing more than to witness it again.

He doesn’t mean to bite you as hard as he does when he starts to orgasm again. It’s as if his mind blanks completely and his mouth is moving towards your shoulder before he can stop it. He feels his dagger like teeth sinking into the soft skin of your shoulder, and for a moment he panics. But the way it feels to empty himself in you, and the pleasured scream that you let out from somewhere deep in your belly makes him clamp down harder.

You breath out the remaining air left in your lungs in relief when you feel his hips stuttering to a stop, his own breath panting hot and damp against your shoulder as he slowly pulls his teeth from the shallow wounds he’s made in your flesh.

You cling to him, your hands slipping out of his hair to let your arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug, and his tongue makes a final appearance to lave over your shoulder to collect the beads of blood that form.

He pulls out of you, the empty feeling hitting harder than you had thought it would and making one last shiver wrack your body. It almost feels like you’ve had a pile of bricks lifted off you as you become aware of the weakness of your limbs, but Mark seems more than willing to support your weight as you lean against him, both of your breathing calming to a normal pace as his come starts to slowly trickle down the insides of your thighs.

“No words could have described that feeling,” he speaks, breaking the small lull of silence that had fallen over you, and you can’t help the endeared laugh you let out in response.

“Yeah it's pretty cool,” you retort awkwardly, not completely sure of how to respond.

You reluctantly let go of his shoulders, your hands falling to your sides as you lean back into the wall. The weird energy that surrounded you when you first saw him returns, and you’re unsure how to interact with him again, but regardless he either doesn’t seem to mind or doesn’t notice at all.

He makes no effort to hide his distaste for the sudden distance, and after he moves his hands away to tuck himself back into his pants, they move in search for some kind of contact again. He reaches down to take a hold of your hands and pulls them up until they sit wrapped in his, on his shoulders.

“I think you’re cool,” he puts bluntly, and his sparkling eyes as he speaks makes your heart thud against your chest, “what just happened was really cool, so please don’t take so long coming back next time because I want to talk to you more and do more of that okay?”

His rushed words make you breath out a laugh as your head bobs in agreement, “I promise, I’ll come back sooner.”

“And you can come in the daylight if you’re not busy,” he assures, his head nodding in determination, “I know this place can be freaky at night and I don’t want to think you’re uncomfortable when you’re with me.”

It’s so easy to slip into the idea that you’re just talking to some simple sweet boy when his wide eyes dance across your face, but the tapered end of his tongue slipping out to lick at his lips is all you need to remind you that he isn’t at all.

“I‘ll try, but even at night, I’m not uncomfortable with you Mark,” you speak truthfully, the fact even surprising you a bit, “but… can I ask you something?’’

“Anything. Anything at all,” he nods quickly, and you silently question why you were ever apprehensive of the boy who stands in front of you, no matter what he is.

“You… you’re not like me,” you say making his eyebrows knit together in thought. You almost want to kick yourself at his reaction, because obviously he’s not like you. You quickly stutter to explain yourself, “I mean like not human right? So if it’s not too much… what are you?”

You shrink slightly in apprehension as his face falls blank in thought. The gears in his head turn as he turns your question over in his mind, before a soft, shy smile pulls a little too wide across his face.

“I’m me,” he shrugs, “I mean I know I’m different from you. You’re the first person i’ve been this close to, but i’ve seen people before. Like there’s these men that come every once in a while to look at the building and write stuff on papers and some kids that run through, so I know enough to know that we aren’t the same. But my friends always kind of blow me off when I ask about it. They say that what humans are to us is what a dog is to a wolf, but I don’t really know what they’re trying to get at if I’m being honest.”

The analogy he offers rolls through your mind, but for your own sanity, you put the implications of it to the side and decide maybe it’s better if you don’t know.

“Hmm, yeah I don’t really understand what that means either but,” you sigh deeply, your hands flexing to squeeze at his fingers, “I guess it doesn’t matter too much. I was just curious, as long as you’re here that’s all that matters.”

Even in the dark, you see a warm blush flood his face at your words, and a boyish giggle slips from his lips. He shakes his head again before letting your joined hands fall to the side.

“As long as you’re here too,” there’s a heavy silence that falls between you, but unlike earlier it's softer, not awkward and cold.

“It’s late though,” he says with an air of disappointment around him, “I might not be human, but I’m also not nocturnal so I do have to go unfortunately.”

“Oh,” you speak softly, your own disappointment joining the air around you, “I know I should have come earlier, I’m sorry.”

“No no no, don’t be,” he leans his forehead against yours as he reassures you, the action being more intimate than you had anticipated and makes a cheesy smile tug on your lips, “just come earlier next time. We can talk and do what we just did as long as we want.”

“Or as long as I can handle it,” you huff, making him grin, “that’s another very inhuman thing about you Mark, I’ve never met someone with stamina like that in my life.”

“Is that a good thing…?” he asks with a ting of concern in his tone.

“Oh yeah definitely,” you nod, your lip tucking between your teeth momentarily before you continue, “definitely a good thing. It was a little overwhelming, but it felt amazing.”

“That’s so cool,” the word comes out one last time as his eyes sparkle in pride, “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Me too,” you speak one last time before he moves away.

As he retreats to the pitch black that is the hall of the false closet in front of you, you become very aware of the fact that you’re alone again. The cold air takes its claim back on your skin, and the sticky liquid that dries against your thighs makes you shiver.

A sudden need to be out of the building rushes over you. Regardless of how sweet Mark turned out to be, the building itself feels hollow and mean when he’s not distracting you from it.

You're relieved when you see your phone still holds enough charge that the light still shines, at least making it easier to find. You bend quickly to grab it, a slight shiver running up your spine when you catch the state your lower half is in, the black liquid from his mouth mixing with the evidence of his orgasms that still drips from you that is the exact same black void color. Your fingers scrape against the floor as you grab for your phone and you silently hope you can find a way to clean up before you get home.

A gasp flies from you when you turn your phone over in your hand. The cracking noise proved true in that the screen is more destroyed than when you arrived, but as a cherry on top of the most confusing sundae, you find that on the way to the floor, somehow your phone’s camera had turned on. And from the blinking time stamp on the top of the screen, you see that it had recorded your entire encounter with Mark.

You quickly stop the filming, your thumb pressing harder against the screen than normal and it feels like your heart is lodged in your throat. You can’t even fathom the idea of having video evidence of what you had done together, and what Mark was capable of, but there’s a small devious voice in the back of your mind that taunts you. With a smug arrogance it whispers, ‘at least you can’t convince yourself nothing happened this time.’

#nct smut #mark smut #nct imagine #mark imagine #mark lee smut #mark lee imagine #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut

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tigerdrop · 3 years

Text

in lieu of doing more strenuous hand-based activities heres the Dogboy Gordon In Heat Megamix ive been talking about. i wrote this over the course of a couple months in an effort to feel okay about writing horny shit again and i only just realized there are nearly 6 thousand words here. and they only really fuck for like 10% of that

ta-dah

ive thought a lot about gordon being stuck back at gordonhouse after getting kicked out of barneyhouse. i think its ripe for a lot of pining. (and yes, he is pining over the guy hes actively banging. hes being a big mopey idiot over the fact that he doesnt get to have his fuckbuddy around 24/7.) absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever and gordons already at a baseline of "wheres benrey. wheres benrey"......and now i am about to turn it up to 11

so lets say......gordons starting to feel weirdly under the weather. sweaty and irritable and tired. hes holing himself up in his room a lot, wrapping himself up in blankets to fight off a chill and a sniffliness that wont go away. and hes gettin awfully moody, too. real fuckin testy. starting shit with freemind for no reason and snapping at og gordon like hes a teenager. and......hes nesting, almost, or at least, gathering up a whole bunch of blankets and pillows and anything that smells vaguely like benrey. (hes not really aware hes doing this last thing.)

basically, long story short, feetman is fucked up. hes pathetic. hes being a huge bitch. at least og gordon feels vaguely sorry for him, and expresses this by way of observing him and trying to treat it. for science. its better than freemind, who just loudly complains about him being a huge bitch and reeking up the place. theres something weird coming from vr gordons corner of the house.....a musky, heady, hormonal kind of thing that makes freemind act simultaneously territorial and irritable and more lascivious than normal. and that also piques og gordons attention, because having both of them be wound up little freaks at the same time is enough to make even the most resilient person pull their hair out

now gordon primes got his suspicions as to whats going on, but hes not gonna tell vr gordon that he suspects hes going into heat. that would compromise the experiment, and all that. so poor gordons just going thru all this shit not knowing what in the fuck is wrong with him and getting more worked up and irritable about it by the day. hes convinced that hes just got the flu, or something......except, uh, haha, jesus christ he is horny all the FUCKING TIME

he doesnt get it! he feels like shit all the time, so why is he constantly fighting off boners and having weird wet dreams and thinking about-- well. his fucking boyfriend, he guesses. (are they boyfriends?? he doesnt know. he gets a weird, sharp pang when he thinks about them not being boyfriends, at this point, but its not like theyve ever talked about it!) gordons half-convinced that hes just losing his mind from being stuck inside all the time and he really just wants to see benrey again. its, like, all he thinks about. (see? hes losing it. theres the proof.)

the sucks thing for everybody else is that gordon is also Extremely Vocal about how shitty he feels and how much he wishes he didnt feel shitty so he could go see benrey and how much he cant stand benrey for not being able to read his mind and come over when he feels bad. eventually freemind gets so sick of his shit that he decides to cut out the middleman and get benrey involved directly. "come take care of your fucking dog before i call the aspca! animal neglect is a crime, asshole!"

(if pressed, freemind would adamantly reject the idea that hes being nice to gordon. but on some level, hes kinda sympathetic. the guys clearly miserable, and he just keeps asking for the same fucking thing. might as well humor him to shut him up.)

vr gordon is completely unaware of these machinations, however. hes just holed up in his room trying to work out what makes him feel better because, uhh, powerade isnt helping

jacking off doesnt do a whole lot for him anymore. like, it feels good, but its not very satisfying. gordon just ends up feeling more restless than anything afterward. and hes always stupid horny. more blankets. a box fan. less blankets. sleeping with one of benreys shirts pressed up to his face. grinding into his pillow when he wakes up hard from yet another weird dream. theyre all a little helpful, and he feels like hes working towards the right thing, somehow, but its never really enough to take the edge off

and then.....he tries......jerking off more. especially when he realizes that its bizarrely soothing to do so while he can smell benrey up close and personal on that stupid shirt of his. better still when he rolls onto his side.....and then his stomach.......rocking his hips into the mattress until he gets the idea to lift his hips a little. and......oh. cool. something kind of......clicks. in his head. as he raises his hips higher while he keeps his arms wrapped around a pillow and benreys shirt jammed against his nose. hes got that lil moment of realization that this is good, actually. this feels like a good move. and its making some of that discomfort melt away

and gordon thinks about.....how it felt. earlier. when they were with barmey. and benrey had him just like this, ass up, face down, and was spreading him apart and licking him open and making him submit and he groans so fucking hard that embarassment just rips through him like lightning. but his tail starting to wag a little faster.....electricity shooting through his belly......and he cant help but wonder. what if benrey had kept going? pulled back and-- maybe, replaced his tongue with his fingers, one at a time, curling them inside him and telling him how well hes behaving and-- and his dick throbs, hard, and gordon realizes he wants fingers inside of himself right fucking now, thank you, hes not fully certain how to accomplish it be he is going to fucking try

(sigh) so my guy figures out about the old fingers in the ass trick. and i need you to understand that i am fully convinced that this is one of those guys who has an uproarious reaction to getting fingers in his ass. mr repressed and uptight over here doesnt really get what the big deal is until he gets braver and pushes a little deeper and hes rock hard in an instant, goodbye, just like everybodys favorite creative writing exercise

and this is what he decides to do for a solid day or two without leaving his room, because, honestly, this is awesome. and the longer he spends jerking off the less time he spends stressing about the fact that his imaginations getting really vivid, here. sure, like, hes no stranger to weird dreams even before this, but this is the first time hes really letting his mind run wild and this dude is nonstop thinking about being bred and gordon still has no fucking idea that hes in heat. doesnt even occur to him

unfortunately this also does not solve his problems but at least it feels baller and it keeps him occupied. also, unfortunately, the increased rate of jerking off is causing a serious uptick in Dog Smells, the effect of which is turning freemind into a nightmare. its just not good vibes in this house. enter: benrey

now i need you to understand that when these two meet up again i want gordon to get Emotional. think about how genuinely excited he gets to see some of his pals in canon. the like......excitement and disbelief when benrey shows up outside his window throwing rocks at it before noclipping in. he forgets to even act pissed off at first. i think it would be super fucking cute for him to drop the game for a moment just out of shock, basically. his tails waggin, his ears are perked up, and hed probably tackle benrey to the ground if he wasnt also a sweaty, trembling mess whos been holed up in his room for days.

and benrey has No Fucking Idea what he has walked in on here. as far as benrey knows, freemind just demanded he get over there and take care of his dog.

(INTERLUDE: here is the part where i gin up a freemind POV of this exact scene. b/c i am out of my fucking mind

so. i had the thought of a freemind POV chapter where hes spying on gordon and benrey.....because. gordons in heat. ive talked about that scenario before too (literally so many FUCKING times okay i just need this dude to have the uncontrollable urge to be bred like a little bitch! and for benrey to take pity on him and make him feel better by nutting in him literally as many times as is physically possible!!!)

but i wanna manifest it in this specific way: from an outside perspective. voyeurism is great and also i have a one track mind and basically the only time i traffic in Other Guys in this fandom anymore is as a participant in gordon and benreys horse shit. Im not apologizing for this

lets say.....vr gordons behavior has been getting worse and worse for "unknown reasons" and freeman prime just sees it as a key observational opportunity for his research. while freeminds getting really irritated at how much its cutting into his normal way of life. for one thing, vr gordons room reeks, and he cant even escape it in his own room! and its turning him into a feisty, aggressive, and loud son of a bitch. but he cant even resolve it in his usual fashion at this point (baiting vr gordon into another competition/fuckfest) b/c gordons being a little sadsack holed up in his room and doesnt wanna play

but also.....he kinda just feels bad for the guy at a certain point. hes clearly really miserable and looks downright ill and all hes asking for is to see his boytoy again. (gordons convinced that hes dying, and feels the need to dramatically speak to benrey one last time before he croaks.) so freemind decides, in all his benevolence, to go over gordon primes head and drag the guy over there anyway. (with machinations, not his literal bare hands. what is he, a caveman?) he reasons that itll be a good opportunity to twist gordons arm into groveling at his feet later

and he spies on the two of them in gordons room.....why? idk. possibly something to do with investigating this relationship between a gordon and a barney that he had yet to fully analyze. tl;dr he gets trapped in their closet for a remix of that one barmey voyeurism chapter b/c why the fuck not

i just.....i dont know.....i think theres something really charming about a 3rd party not being able to fully make out what theyre saying or doing but piecing things together anyway.....like benreys weirdly soft tone of voice when hes talking to a super agitated gordon. as far as any of them know, hes not really like that. he either sounds bored or smug, but either way, its usually straight-up antagonistic

it would make freemind bristle to hear it b/c its almost a mocking tone, but.....it makes gordons shoulders drop and gets him to let go of some of that tension and thats probably fascinating to watch. literally soothing him like a stressed out dog, huh. smoothing back his hair and murmuring things in a low, even tone that freeminds enhanced hearing still isnt good enough to make out. (the guy mumbles, okay? he needs a fucking toastmasters meetup.)

it would equal parts horrify and fascinate freemind, in my onion. watching a version of himself fall that hard into the loyal pet role.....its pathetic! for all that gordon goes on about not being a slave to his instinct or whatever, he sure is doing a bad job of acting like it! its like watching himself, but worse.

and benreys having to soothe him like a startled animal b/c he doesnt even know whats wrong with himself, but theres something thick enough on the air that even benrey can smell it, and hes taking some stabs at the dark. especially with how charged some of the shit gordons saying is......"i cant fucking take it anymore", "you smell so good", "i dont know whats wrong with me, man, my dick hasnt gone down for days and im pretty sure i need a doctor-- no, a real one, not the other gor-- NOT a vet, JESUS"

and the whole time.....freeminds peeking from behind a closet door. watching them devolve from outright hostility into "gordon climbing into benreys lap and shoving one of benreys hands up his shirt and demanding that he fucking touch him already"

normally i dont think freemind would be averse to a little bit of voyeurism, here. if it was anybody else, hed probably at least engage in a little heavy petting. but this is getting weird, man. he cant shake the uncanny feeling that this is something too intimate for him to be watching. for one thing, gordons whimpering like a goddamn dog just from a little necking, and for two, hes never really been the kind of guy to watch people make out for 15 minutes before they get to the good stuff

its just kind of unsettling how much these two clearly really, really like each other at this point. its not like watching gordon prime give vr gordon a handjob as part of a "test". freemind expected more of a hatefuck kind of deal out of these two, what with how often gordons normally going on about how much he hates the guy, what a pain in the ass benrey is, how he just wishes benrey would stop jerking him around.....etc. freemind could shit himself right now. that lying bitch!

i imagine its also kind of painful, on a personal level, for him to watch this borderline-sappy shit. he cant even fathom being on the receiving end of that behavior, let alone from......well. theyve all got their barneys, right? and gordon primes basically doomed himself to incel status b/c he wont nut up and do anything about it. freemind just assumed they were all in the same boat: cursed to casual sex with their roommates/clones, forever, and unable to achieve any kind of intimacy b/c all 3 gordons are fucked up in the exact same way. since theyre all just diff flavors of the same fucking guy, right?

well, theres the evidence that hes wrong. and that vr gordons better than him, somehow. thats gotta suck, bro

anyway then he watches vr gordon get railed in the ass a bunch and jerks off anyway b/c its still hot. see ya)

“take care of your dog”. huh. hes got no clue what that means but, yknow, he does kinda miss his dog. hasnt seen gordon in awhile. and he immediately comments "wow. you look fucked up" in as blunt and unsympathetic a way as possible. but gordons so far gone that he cant even work up a good anger about it. he is pretty fucked up, man. and benrey sits on the bed and slaps his forehead with a palm to take his temperature (and that gets gordon to bitch at him, finally, that thats not how you do it, asshole) and judges that, uh, he is hot. in his expert opinion

and thats when gordon kinda grabs his sleeve and tugs it and starts tryin to say something. hes really bad at it, because he is having to perform the mortifying task of Owning Up To It, but eventually he manages to grind out that he needs benrey to touch him, please. just pet him. something. he feels really bad and he just needs benrey to scratch his fucking ears. this is the most gordon can cop to in one go, and it is such a sad struggle to watch, but benreys caught off guard by it and he feels weirdly bad for gordon upon hearing it so hes just like "whoa, okay" when gordon tugs his hand to his head

gordon groans the moment his fingernails start scratching behind the ears and digging into his scalp. even just that much feels really fucking good. its comforting, for one thing, and its benrey, for another, and the physical touch feels so fucking good right now that goosebumps are crawling down his neck. gordon cant help but lean against benrey and bury his head in the crook of his shoulder. he wants to hide his face from scrutiny and he wants to get closer but he doesnt know how to say what his fucking problem is

and benreys weirdly quiet. just kinda mumbling and shushing him intermittently, awkward and not sure what to do b/c this is a level of intimacy he was not expecting but gordons sure is responding nicely to a second hand in his hair

so having both of benreys hands scratching at his scalp is really getting to gordon. hes scritchin behind the ears and gordons tails wagging at a mile a minute. the feelings making goosebumps race down his neck and arms. he starts kind of mumbling something into benreys shoulder, how hes been feeling so fucked up lately, and he squirms a little closer. hes not really aiming for anywhere in particular but every neuron thats firing in him right now is telling him to get closer. make contact. he missed the fucking guy, what can he say.

and one of benreys hands......slips down to gordons face. his jaw. a thumb pushing into that soft little divot between his jaw and neck, like hes trying to push up into gordons fucking teeth. its weird and bizarrely intrusive, but benreys hand is broad and warm and gordon leans into it anyway, groaning with relief. its not like its not doing anything for him. kind of the opposite, actually. then he palms at gordons neck, and gordon starts breathing harder. he can feel his heartbeat rabbit-fast, pushing against benreys skin (and theres no way benrey isnt feeling that, too).

benrey eyes are lidded and his breaths starting to get heavier, too. naturally, yknow, since gordons practically draped over him right now, melting all the more the longer benrey keeps petting him. oxytocin is crazy, man, especially when a guys in the full throes of some kind of chemical meltdown of the glands. gordons eyes are screwed shut, tail thumping furiously against the bed, and hes panting at benreys neck like hes a fucking dog. he just doesnt know how to articulate what the fuck his problem is

benrey smells insanely good to him right now, and gordon just blurts that out. benrey gives him some shit for it, but when gordon only makes a weird noise in response and fists his hands in benreys hoodie, it makes him shut up real quick. hes squeezing out words about feeling like he needs something, but its clearly a fucking effort. its almost pitiful

so. gordons crawled right into benreys lap, too impatient after days and days of feeling like this (you know, being in heat, in so many words). hes been pounding off like crazy, that brand new collar of his strapped to his neck nearly every time b/c hes that desperate to feel… well. *benrey*. he cant fucking jerk off to thoughts of anything else - porn doesnt do it for him, and his fantasies slip right back to the same thing every single time. its frustrating! hes bisexual, for gods sake! its not like hes normally immune to the wiles of the Phat Ass White Girl, but lately he just keeps ending up on his hands and knees and whining benreys name into his pillow and he couldnt focus on a girls rack if he tried

point being. hes being awfully fucking demanding. (and also, hes wearing the collar *right fucking now)*. he shoves benreys hand up his shirt and shivers the moment he makes contact with gordons burning-hot flesh. and hes demanding that benrey touch him already, jesus, hes losing his mind! and benreys just crooning at him, “bossy, huh,” but hes scritching gordons ears and palming at his side and nosing at gordons neck and gordon starts to feel like hes melting into it. his protests at being talked down to are perfunctory at best

benrey licks a stripe up gordons neck and starts muttering his stupid horseshit right in gordons ear and it makes gordon clutch his shoulders so tight, claws digging into the meat of him. benreys kind of into it, though, and it just makes him laugh, low and harsh and right in gordons ear. that just makes gordons problem worse. he lets out quiet, nasal whines on every exhale, like a literal fucking dog.

he starts teasing, like, “haha, you’re *gagging* for it, bro,” but gordon doesnt respond with the defensiveness he expects. instead, its like opening a floodgate - he is, hes fucking *desperate*, okay, his dick hasnt gone down in days and he wants benrey so bad he cant see straight and he cant stop thinking about him and all of this comes tumbling out of him at once. gordons trying to press himself as close to benrey as he can physically get, legs straddling benreys lap and arms clutched tight around his back. and when benrey prods a little more, tells gordon to say what hes been thinkin about, gordon starts to pant, squeezing his eyes shut. but he cant bring himself to do anything more than choke and stutter on the words

hes half-hard in his underwear already (and, lets be be clear, he was only in boxer briefs and a tank top to begin with. hes sweating buckets and its the least amount of clothing he could get away with wearing around the house) and his tails thumping a mile a minute and hes so far gone, just from benrey talking down to him and kissing his neck and scratching his ears. but hes not budging yet, so benrey slides that hand on his ears over to his ponytail and *yanks*. tells him, “speak.” gordons dick twitches rapidly, and he lets out a sharp sound, and he finally says it: he needs benrey to *fuck* him, jesus

benrey lets out a harsh breath at that. “yeah? thats what puppy wants?” and the nickname should blister him, make him feel to embarrassed to continue, but gordons too desperate to care. he just starts spewing a litany of “god yes”s and “please”s. hes getting harder and harder, pressed up against benreys belly, and benrey can *feel* it. “good boy,” he mutters, and those claws dig harder, that panting gets louder and harsher

he slips a hand around to gordons back, rubbing slowly for a moment as if to soothe him, and then slides it under the back of gordons boxers. and lower still. starts rubbing at gordons hole. that gets a quiet “oh god” out of gordon.

gordon cant help himself - he rocks forward against benrey, just a little, rubbing his bulge against what he realizes is benreys *extremely* hard dick in his sweatpants. hes not the only one whos got it bad. but he *is* the only one whispering, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as benrey pushes a little further, makes as if hes about to breach gordon dry. the poor guys so needy that he probably wouldnt even argue!

but benrey just stares at him, wide eyed and flushed, mouth hanging open a little. gordons so hot for this that it surprises the both of them.

anyway after some boring position finagling benrey coaxes gordon onto his hands and knees, running a broad hand down gordons shaking back. and he pulls back gordons tail, exposing him. its so fucking humiliating - gordons got his face buried in a pillow, and his ass in the air, and hes never felt so *vulnerable* before. he wants to argue, he wants to lift his head and look back to make sure that everythings, like, okay back there - benreys staring at his entire asshole, okay, and he wasnt exactly anticipating benrey making a house call to fuck him in the ass - but every time he lifts his head, or starts to say something neurotic about it, benrey chides him about it. clicks his tongue. tells him, “hey. dogs dont talk” or “i said *bow*, bro”.

for all his insisting that hes a real guy, that hes not just a dog, gordons feeling less and less like a human and more like something in thrall to his instincts. the condescension rankles like it always does, but doing what benrey tells him to feels good. feels natural. presenting himself like this feels like what hes *supposed* to do. it doesnt stop him from running his mouth entirely, but it helps to mitigate some of the embarrassment.

and then… benrey *licks*. gordon tenses and gasps. he doesnt know how benrey can stand it, its gotta be, like, unhygienic! but that didnt scare him off the last time they tried this, and its not like gordon hasnt thought about it since. hes thought about it a lot, actually. but hes been too neurotic to ask for it. benreys not stupid, though. hes a good dog owner (at least, so he thinks) and hes gonna take care of his dog. so he licks again, and again, pressing a little harder against gordons hole on each pass with the broad side of his tongue until he dares to breach it with the tip.

gordons rock hard again in an instant. his dick hangs between his legs and drips onto the sheets. he digs his fingers into the pillow now, tearing holes in its surface with those sharp nails of his, and he makes embarrassingly high noises that he muffles into into the pillow, too. hes tense, hes so fucking tense, he should be clamping down and making benreys task really fucking hard, but theres bright pink sweet voice dripping from his hole and benreys rubbing the side of his thigh in an effort to soothe him and both of these things work in tandem to get him to relax. and benrey works his tongue in further, further than a human ought to.

the tip was one thing, but it gets wider as benrey pushes it in, and its just as good as it was before - better, even, because now its just the two of them, just a master and his dog, and benreys the only one he wants to see him like this. bent over and whimpering. he cant— he cant stomach the thought of anybody else doing this to him. hell, there was a point once where the idea of stomaching *benrey* doing this to him would have made him laugh. but here he is. benreys fucking him open with his tongue and pressing against something thats making him see stars and gordon just wants *more*. he says it so sweet, too, voice growing hoarse and raw as he begs benrey to just fucking do it already, he doesnt wanna come like this!

gordon gets so worked up and emotional about it that benrey takes the time to scratch behind his ears again, shushing him and telling him to chill. benreys got him. hes been a good dog, and good dogs get treats. hearing the words “good dog” makes gordons entire body flush. thats all he wants, really. he wants to be a good dog. he wants to be *told*. he blurts out, “oh my god— say it again,” and benreys like, “huh? say what? youre gonna have to be more specific,” clicking the last syllable. it makes all the hairs on gordons head rise and prickle with shame. the best he can do is mumble it into his pillow.

benrey hears it, though, and tugs at gordons collar from behind, just enough to raise his head. “whassat? you want me to call you a good boy?” gordon cant bring himself to answer that directly, but his stupid body betrays him by making him whine. jesus christ, yes, thats all he WANTS! he needs benrey to be good and nice to him for once in his fucking life and give him what he wants instead of taking, taking, taking! but benrey just tells him that hes gonna have to earn it. gonna have to be *real* good for him. gordon could fucking snarl at that, but benreys pulling back to rub his dick between gordons cheeks and against his hole and that shuts him up pretty fast because hes *so close* to getting what he wants and hes not about to fuck it up now by running his big dumb mouth

and then… he starts to push in. that sweet voice has loosened gordon up enough to take even benrey, who, uh, is definitely the bigger of the two, in that regard. he goes slow, uncharacteristically so, and gordons chest heaves with the force of how hard hes breathing. a quiet string of “oh god”s spills out of him as he tries to crane his neck back to watch. the head breaches him with a strange popping sensation, and benrey groans, loud, as the rest of him slides in with little resistance in comparison. “good,” he pants in turn, “youre takin it so good,” and—

and gordon comes, in weak, aborted spurts. it snuck up on him. he clenches so fucking tightly that it winds benrey a little. he breathes out, “whoa. did you—” but gordon just begs him to shut up, keep going, hes not— hes not done yet, its always like this, its not *enough*. his dick barely even flags afterward, it just hangs there, achingly hard and dripping with cum. benrey cant even find it in himself to make fun of him. he wants it so fucking bad, doesnt he? and he feels so good, so fucking tight and slick around benrey that the only thought running through his head is “gotta take care of my dog gotta fuck my best friend gotta nut in him and make him howl”. so he pushes himself alllll the way in until theyre pressed together, skin to skin.

then he starts to move. slow, careful thrusts, more for benreys benefit than gordons. if hes not careful, hes gonna blow his load, right then and there, and hes trying to make it good for gordon, too, okay? unlike *some* of them, hes not gonna bust in two minutes and then spend the next half hour crying and trauma-dumping to the guy hes still got his dick inside of.

once he thinks hes got a grip, though, benrey starts fucking him in earnest, and that changes gordons vocalizations from weak little whimpers into something louder. less restrained. hes given up any pretense of being quiet so that his other selves dont hear that hes snuck his boytoy into his room. just loud, wordless moans on each thrust, initially muffled into the pillow but soon spilling into the wider room when he turns his head to catch his breath. the only words hes managing are “oh god” and “please” and “benrey, benrey, *benrey*”, and benrey just responds to him like, “yeah? thats good? fuuuck, bro, so good for me,” all short of breath and barely able to speak himself

he wants to see gordons face. he *needs* to see gordons face. needs to see what hes doing to him, needs to see that cute fuckin blush of his. so he tugs on gordons collar again, bringing him to his hands and knees properly instead of that bowing position. and then further still - pulls him back so that benreys on his knees, and gordons on his knees in turn, on his lap, cock still buried inside of him and fucking him in short, hurried thrusts. “paws up,” benrey tells him, and gordon does it. instantly. no resistance. just folds them at his chest like a real dog would.

“whos a good boy?” benrey croons, right in his ear again. gordon gasps, “i-i am!”

“yeah? youre a good boy?” nod, wail. “whose— whose good boy are you?”

and gordon chokes on his response. he cant say it, he *cant*, he doesnt want to be benreys but he does, he *does*. he doesnt want to be benreys because its not fucking fair! he cares so fucking much! so much more than benrey does, it feels like, obsessing over the guy like hes wrapped thorny vines all around gordons heart and he cant so much as shift in his seat without feeling the tug and the ache and thinking of benrey again. and benrey doesnt care, he never fucking cares, except—

except he showed up at gordons house, in his room. without even being asked. like he knew something was wrong. and he— hes always talking to gordon, shooting him stupid texts just to make him laugh. scheduling *date nights* for them. date nights where, yeah, maybe they couldnt see each other in person, and maybe they always end in some kind of depraved sexual act, but its not like gordons not into it. hes frighteningly into it, actually. and hes *so* into hearing benreys voice, low and crooning, right in his ear, and seeing him lean on an elbow and smile at him afterward. its— its practically genuine. and benreys always making excuses to talk with him, do things with him, watch stupid fucking movies that only gordon cares about and stream with him on twitch to help boost his subscriber count and—

and—

oh god. maybe he *does* care. that might be more terrifying than the alternative.

then benrey yanks the collar again. presses the whole of gordons back against his front in one hot, unbroken line. and asks, “i said, whose good boy are you, bro? *speak.*”

“benrey,” he blurts out, a ragged moan, “d-dont make me sa-AY it, oh god—”

“no?” benrey stills suddenly. his hands keep gordon stuck in place, unable to move or bounce or feel benrey shift inside of him. “thats, uh… thats too bad, friend. this trains for good boys only. good dogs go to heaven 2. no bad dogs allowed. gonna have to, uhh, escort you off—”

“im not a bad dog!”

“i dunno, gordo. bein’ kind of, uh… disobedient.”

(sorry. thats all i got . byeeee)

#this is so far from finished b/c A) im a coward now and B) typing qith my left hand sucks so i dont wanna do it right now. Sorry #writin stuff

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thequeenb · 4 years

Text

Come Back (part 2)

Poppy x MC

It has been highly requested for me to continue the cheating fic.

Here you can read part 1

I walk around the campus with Chloe and Veronica by my side. Its been three days since Bea left and it feels like eternity. Everyone looks at me weirdly ever since the incident and i honestly can't blame them. Carter never dared to approach me after he read what the T said

"So we are going to go to the veggie restaurant for lunch?" Chloe asks and Veronica shrugs

I didn't realize that they stopped walking, my eyes were fixed at the Anthropology classroom where i used to wait outside for Bea to finish. She always seemed bored as hell but every time she saw me her eyes sparkled, her smile was bright

I stop, running my hand through the door watching Miss Kingsley sitting on her desk. Our eyes lock and for just a moment i feel ashamed, before i remember who i am.

"Can i help you Miss Min-Sinclair?" she politely ask and i hesitate to walk in

Who can help me? The one girl i let inside my heart left and its all my fault. What could she do? Bring her back?

Regardless i walk further looking around the classroom. My gaze falls to Bea's seat, she always sat there so she could easily text me during boring lessons. I chuckle remembering how many photos i sent her just so i could provoke her

Without thinking twice i walk towards that spot sitting down gracefully. Miss Kingsley seems to pick up with me and she comes to sit down next to me

"I know you miss her, we all do but we cant control everyone's decisions, only ours"

Normally i would roll my eyes ignoring every criticism because Queens don't make mistakes but she is right, and it hurts my ego even more

"You read that trashy blog don't you? Everyone did and now they hate me even more" i sit back thinking how Bea used to sit right here, being happy..free

"I try to avoid it but Bea told me that she won't attend my classes for the rest of the semester" she takes a deep breath

"She seemed sad, that means what she felt was real enough to break her when you--"

"Don't even say it" i try not to tear up but i cant. The images of Carter grabbing my face and kissing me cant escape my mind and i let the pain take over

"So Pops, Bea Hughes huh?" Carter said approaching me. He asked to meet behind the field but i ignored the red flags, he said it was important

"Is that why you asked me to meet up? So we could analyze my relationship? Maybe we can have a sleepover like besties do" i roll my eyes ready to storm off but he grabs my hand pulling me against him

"Don't run before you can walk Pops, after all we don't want Bea to know about our negotiation" his hand was stroking my hair but i went stiff not knowing how to react.

When we were a couple it was bearable but now all i want to do is scream. We got together for the fame, for my reputation. Because he was the football captain, its funny isnt it?

"Get your hands off of me Carter" i manage to say but he just smirks

"You know i can get her expelled with one phone call" his laughter echoed and my heart stopped beating

I didn't realize how close he was until he leaned in capturing my lips. A bright flash hit my eyelids. I gasp in surprise pulling him immediately away

"You are so disgusting" i storm off not wanting him to see my vulnerability. Tears ran down my face but back then i didn't think much of it but now i know that was his plan.

I come back to painful reality. Miss Kingsley holds my hand and i feel tears run down my face. Fuck don't show how weak you actually are

"She went back to Farmsville, you still have time" she gave me a faint smile and i throw my arms around her

"Thank you" i whisper in her ear while she pat my back not knowing how to react. I pull away adjusting my clothes, ready to pack my bags

____

"I can't believe you are back! I am so glad" And here she is, my childhood best friend wrapped her arms around me suffocating me in her hug

"Wow there, you will kill me" i laugh embracing her tightly. After everything i have been through seeing Charlie is like a dream come true

She pulls away, her smile never fading away and it warms my heart. She always knew when i was upset but never said a thing, she tried to bring my mood back in her own way

"Come on! The dinner awaits for us" i link out hands together walking down the road of Farmsville. I missed the fresh air, the people who knew me since i was little

Here you don't have to fight for respect because its something you deserve regardless. No ranks, no drama, no sassy students. Just me, nature and my best friend

We finally arrive at the dinner and we sit down to the booth we always do. I sink to my seat and oh god, i missed this place

"So tell me everything, we didn't had a lot of time to talk" Charlie says excitedly, thinking i will tell her my happy adventures but my mind keeps drifting to Poppy

I brush these thoughts away smiling "This is going to be a long ride"

We enjoyed our food chatting about the T, the professor, my plan to take Poppy down, how amazing Zoe is and how extra mean people used to be when i first went there

"Oh wow, they really have a blog to embarrass students?" Of course she is shocked, so was i and honestly every logical human would. But the students of Belvoire created a world of their own

"You have no idea, they made fun of everything i did" i roll my eyes but then laugh "soon enough they ate from my palm, silly rich kids"

"I am glad you came back, it sounds toxic" oh Charlie you have no idea

I gaze at the window remembering how much i wanted to take Poppy here. She always laughed at the thought but i know deep down she would like nothing more. I wanted us to walk down the empty streets, take her to my parents farm and watch the sunset, do everything she didn't let herself do

Charlie seem to notice my distant stare and pats my hand "Hey what's wrong? I knew something happened, your social media was filled with happy moments"

I don't dare to look at her because she knows me too well at this point

"What made you decide to leave?" she places her hand on my shoulders pulling me into a side hug

"Remember the mean girl i told you about? We were dating" i exhale heavily, my mind racing with that damn image of her and Carter making out

I fill her in with the details, sometimes i smile missing our happy moments. But then i show her the image and my tears threaten to escape. How could she do this to me? After everything that we had been through

"Oh sweetheart i am so sorry" she says hugging me tightly. This time i let her hold me closer.

I grip at her shirt as one simple tear turned into body wrecking sobs. Poppy's voice message still plays in my mind over and over again. She said she loves me but her actions show that she hates me. My heart breaks once more, knowing well that i will never see her perfect smile again, hear her surprisingly cute laugh

"Let it all out, i am here for you" Charlie pats my back, running slow circles with her palm. That always calms me and she knows, because ever since we were kids whenever i was in pain she was always there.

A part of me regrets leaving Belvoire but most of all i am glad i returned to a land where people are real and genuine, away from cruelty and drama..away from Poppy

I pull away wiping my eyes but before i could even pull myself together i watch a black limousine stop right outside of the dinner. Everyone looks stunned because hello? This is a small town which celebrity would visit?

"Oh my god i am sorry Bea but if this is Lady Gaga you have to take a picture of me" Charlie stands up and i roll my eyes

Some people came out of their stores wondering who this might be. We step out forming a circle on the sidewalk waiting for the mysterious rich person to reveal themselves

"This is stupid let's just go" i try to pull Charlie away but she is so stubborn, typical

Everyone whisper questioning the same thing, who the hell would be so rich and know where Farmsville even is. I sign impatiently

That until a man gets out of the car and everyone stops talking. The man walks around the car carefully opening the door. All eyes are on the limousine waiting for the person to come out

The first thing i see is a pair of red heels and then oh my god you have to be kidding me. My breath stops, everyone around me fades and my gaze is focused on her, am i dreaming?

"Bea?" Her sweet tone destroy my inside and i froze. What the hell is she doing here? How does she know where i am? I swear if Zoe told her i will kill her but oh wait she is approaching

"We need to talk"

My knees feel weak and i stop breathing for a second. I need time to comprehend that Poppy Min-Sinclair is in my town, here with me. Oh boy what did i get myself into

Tag list: @lolimugly @origmansello @greatestflirt-hero @mvalentine @otakufangirl-12 @sugarplumpnhoneybun @princessstellaris @indecisive-choices @i-loveeveryone @kiara-36 @ognenniyvolk @somewillwin @it-lives-in-braidwood-manor @ghalind @sergeant-pepper-loves-choices @dibberdipper @tyrils-star @nydeiri @justastranger-passing

#play choices #queen b #poppy min sinclair #choices fanfiction #poppy x mc #queen b poppy #choices fic #playchoices #pb choices #choices #my fics

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shoutoismybaby · 4 years

Text

Enouement- Ch 1

Pregnant!Reader X Bakusquad boy (He is a secret until next chapter! Can you guess who it is?)

Enouement- The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.

Hi! This is inspired by all of those unexpected pregnancy AU’s that I love reading, but it always made me sad they were only a one-shot, so I turned it into a chaptered series! I hope you enjoy and tell me who you think the boyfriend is!

(also special thanks to @liliesoftherain for helping me with this story, a true MVP that you should follow)

masterlist/ part2

***

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a one-time thing, an accident. After being together for 2 years you both had finally turned 18 and decided it was time to take the next step in your relationship. You didn’t think that this would happen. You were careful every time after, neither of you thought that this would be the outcome of a one-time thing. He COULDN’T know this was the outcome, he couldn’t know that there was any outcome at all.

But there was, and it sat there in your shaking hands, a small test with two lines. Tears welled up in your eyes as you muttered to yourself about how this couldn’t be happening. You were on winter break, graduation was only 3 months away!

Could you hide it until then? You could only be about 2 months now, so no way that would be possible. Should you even hide it in the first place? Could you even take care of a baby? Did you want to give up your dreams of being a hero for a baby? And what about…

No. You couldn’t do that to him. You could never ruin his dream, a baby would set him back so far. He would never be able to forgive you. Even if he did, you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself. Not only that but he totally was not mature enough to even think about being a parent. Those thoughts only left you with one option, abortion. You knew you couldn’t talk to your parents about it, or you felt like you couldn’t anyway. They would be so disappointed in you. Not only that an abortion sounded so terrifying to you.

Would they have to reach inside of you? Suck the baby out?

The thought of it made you nauseous.

“(Y/n), you alright?” you heard your mother’s voice from outside the door, “you’ve been in there for a while.”

“You having diarrhea?” Your dad laughed, and you hear the ‘ow’ that left his mouth after being elbowed by your mom. You quickly wiped your eyes and tried to clear your throat,

“Yeah,” you tried to figure out an excuse, “I was um, just fixing my hair.”

The last few days of winter break went by pretty smoothly, though you couldn’t help but feel like puking every time you thought of the test you had buried into your trashcan. Going back to the dorms was nowhere near easy, however, morning sickness hit you hard and excusing yourself from class in time to run to the bathroom was one of the most difficult things you had ever accomplished. Luckily for you, no one seemed suspicious of your changing behavior. In fact, your boyfriend just thought your increased appetite was cute. Part of it was probably due to being in different classes, you used to hate being in class 3-b, but at the moment it was giving you the time away from your boyfriend that you feared would reveal your secret.

“Hey, (Y/n), you okay?” your boyfriend’s happy voice broke through your thoughts. “You’ve been spaced out a lot recently.”

“Yeah I’m okay,” you tried to bring yourself back to the present, “it’s just that even though it’s only been a couple of weeks since break I’m already worried about our final.”

It wasn’t a lie. While you were worried about the exam, your biggest fear wasn’t about knowing the answers. No, you were terrified at the thought of not being able to take it in the first place.

“What do you mean, you've got nothing to worry about babe!” His chipper attitude brought a much-needed smile to your face.

“Yeah, you’re like totally smart!” Mina agreed, the rest of the Bakusquad you spent most time out of class with made various noises in agreement.

“Thanks, guys, but I’m more worried about the application portion. I heard the teachers won’t be wearing any restrictions thi-” Your phone buzzing on the table cut you off. Your boyfriend picked it up for you,

“It’s your mom,” he said, handing it over. You stood up and ruffled his hair gently,

“I’ll be back,” You answered the call once you stepped out of the cafeteria, “Hey mom, what's up?”

“Hey honey, I just have a question.” Her voice sounded shaky and a nervousness built up in your stomach.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Your father and I just decided to get started on some cleaning, he wanted to beat the neighbors to spring cleaning, you know how he is.” Her laugh didn’t comfort you as much as it usually would.

“Yeah,” was the only way you could respond. You could tell that she was upset, but what was it about. “Is dad okay?”

“He went into your room to get your trash today.”

Your heart sunk.

“Mom I-”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Her voice broke and tears sprung up into your eyes.

“I was scared! I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me, it was an accident and I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do!” Your voice sounded strangled as you struggled to not sob in the middle of the hallway.

“Honey if you have this baby, your hero career will be ruined. You might not even be able to graduate at this point.”

“I know that,” you sniffled and wiped at your watering eyes.

“But Does your boyfriend?” It was a reasonable question but it caused a sharp pain to shoot through your chest.

“No,” You walked over to the window to watch the snowfall outside,

“(Y/n), you need to tell him,” Obviously you knew that, but you just couldn’t.

“He’ll hate me! I just- I don’t… I don’t want the baby. I want to be a hero, and I can’t ruin his life like that.” You could hear her sigh as you wiped at your eyes.

“Listen, I’m going to pick you up from school, and we will figure out what to do okay?” You could only mutter in agreement before wiping your eyes some more. You turned away from the windows and back to the doors of the cafeteria only to let out a startled gasp. Standing in front of the doors was The Bakugou Katsuki.

“B-Bakugou, I don’t know what you think you heard but I can assure you it’s definitely not what it seems li-”

“You’re pregnant?” His eyes were blown wide open, and while you had seen him shocked in battle before, you had never seen him look so agape. Your once loose grip on your phone tightened to the point your hand ached in protest. The soft fabric of your shirt as you held the device close to your chest did little to comfort you as you began to shake.

“No, it’s not like that, I just..” Your grip on your phone slackened and your arms dropped to your sides, Bakugou wasn’t going to believe whatever shitty excuse you came up with, so you gave up.

“You’re fucking pregnant.” His eyes pierced through you and you couldn’t help but look down at the ground in shame.

“Yeah,” Your headshot up along with your hands, phone abandoned in your pocket, “but you cant tell! No one can know.”

“You’re not going to tell him?” His brows furrowed now, looking deeper to how you were used to seeing his face,

“Who knows what he would do if he found out! Hate me, leave me, give up on his dream to take care of the-” You pause, some part of you can not bring yourself to say the word once again. The whole situation was already too real for you. “I just need to deal with it by myself, then it won’t matter and everything can go back to feeling normal!”

“Is that what you want?” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle,

“What are you talking about, what do you mean?” You scrunch your face in confusion. Not only did you have no idea what you were going to do, but now Bakugou was acting weird. As the blonde moved to open his mouth he was cut off by the bell. You both knew that your conversation would have to end there as people were about to walk through the door, and the relief caused your body to slacken.

The rest of the day went by pretty fast, other than hero training which really wore you out. You walked as slowly as possible to avoid seeing your parent’s faces again. You knew they would be in the parking lot of the cafe across the street, and they would be so disappointed in you. So you lingered about once school ended, spending some extra time hanging out with the Bakusquad. You were trying to be as normal as you could, but that unwavering stare you felt on your back just made your nerves skyrocket. You wanted to say you were being paranoid, you really did, that Bakugou glared at everyone. Yet the longer he looked the more unease you felt that wasn’t one of his normal stares

Would he ruin everything for you? He understood that this wasn’t his place to tell right? Plus, when had the Bakugou Katsuki ever cared about things that weren’t supposed to involve him? Still, he did what he wanted when he wanted, and that was that. His extremely strong set of morals is what guided him in life, despite what some liked to believe. He was definitely going to let your secret spill. If he did that then..

Oh god, you needed to get rid of this baby. It could ruin everything you worked for, and you couldn't imagine living without your boyfriend by your side. He was such a happy guy who lit up every room he walked into. His smile was contagious and he always knew how to cheer you up. This time though, you knew that this was something you would have to deal with without him, even though you hated the idea of keeping a secret as big as this. You two were so honest with each other, you were open books the other could read at any moment. But if he knew about the baby..

You must have cradled your stomach without thinking because everyone started looking at you weirdly,

“Is your stomach upset (Y/n)?” Your boyfriend was at your side, concerned for you as always. You wondered if he could tell something was wrong.

“Maybe you should head home and rest, we can’t afford you getting sick!” The group agreed with Mina, and strangely that included Bakugou.

“Yeah, you should go home to your parents.” He grumbled the others teased him about caring for you, but you saw the look in his eyes. You knew what he was thinking.

With that, you turned and headed towards the gates of UA high.

***

Please tell me your thoughts, I love feedback! And maybe if enough people like it ill create a tag list?? Now that we’ve reached the end, do you know who the boyfriend is?

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #mha x you #is it #kirishima x reader #sero x reader #or #kaminari x reader #???

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shiftysdogtags · 4 years

Text

Meeting Malarkey’s family

Full disclosure, i have NO idea what the family dynamic was and it is 100% fictional. There is no intended disrespect to the real hero and is totally based of the portrayal in the mini series.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don would be SO proud to introduce you to his family

He would be physically excited the week leading up to it

The excitement would be radiating off him and you can feel him buzzing

You can see his eyes light up when he remembers he’s going to bring you home to his Ma

His mother would make him ask you what your favourite dinner and dessert are

She wanted to make you feel at home and make sure you were welcomed to the family in the right way

He would tell you that his siblings cannot wait

He was secretly a little bit nervous because he wanted the person he was going to marry to fit in

On the day in question he is dressed in his finest shirt

Only the best for the love of his life

Don would walk you from your house to his Ma’s and the whole way there you ran your mouth

‘Babe, just relax’ he would say with a kiss to your temple and a reassuring smile

His hand would squeeze yours the whole way there

With one last look he would lead you up the front steps and through the front door

You cant imagine the smile on his mothers face when Don introduces you

Mama Malarkey would fuss over you like one of her own

She commented on your beautiful dress and you were glad you had decided to wear it

His father would shake your hand and welcome you into their home

It felt weirdly natural to be there like you had been coming into the Malarkey household for years

The humour was light and his siblings vocally expressed their disbelief at how Don managed to get someone like you to be with him

But how could you not?! Look at his angel face

When Don brought you to his childhood bedroom you could see his cheeks redden

All the posters are still on the walls and theres a few toys sitting on shelves

He fiddles with his hands while you scan the room

He made excuses as to why he still had them which you thought was cute

‘Ma wouldn’t let me get rid of them. She says they remind her of when i was little’

But we all know he would never dream of throwing out the stuffed rabbit he’s had since he was three

He slept with it every night when he was small and it makes him feel safe on nights he can’t sleep

His house was your second home

Every holiday you would be welcomed in and the more you came around the happier Don would get

Sometimes you would come around for no reason

He has come home and you’re there with his mother drinking tea and talking like you’ve known each other for years

His siblings are your sibling and he loves when you joined in on the teasing

Don often thinks back to the day he brought you home and he couldn’t be happier that he did

#band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #bob headcanon #band of brothers headcanon #Donald Malarkey headcanon #donald malarkey x reader #Don Malarkey x reader #Don Malarkey headcanon

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dxmagedrose · 4 years

Text

GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER!

Tagged by: my lover @hammurabicomplex I’m tagging: anyone and everyone who wants to pick this one up! share with the class if you feel like it! tag me in it!!

PRESENTING. RANDOM DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO-MUN AT 2AM ;

FIRST NAME Good fucking question… It’s (sort-of) currently Dylann! I was Kieran before that, though; it’s still used as one of my first names and I’m not used to Dylann quite yet bc I’ve just started using it.

Indigo is one of my middle names though, and I’ve used it as an online handle elsewhere forever so I use it here now! [ Fun etymology facts: Dylan(n) is a mythology name generally meaning “born of the wave” (aspiring diver & a water witch at heart). Kieran means “little dark one” bc of my love for horror, && I chose Indigo bc as a kid to be it was neither boy (blue) or purple (girl) and was both and neither as well as my absolute favorite color as this vibrant ass mystical color. ]

STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF hmmmmm…. I’m a horror lover at heart, so as a child (I wanna say 12), I was walking through an antique store (I have a few cool finds, I considered putting my other one as the fact tbh) and I turned the corner and I saw these two dolls staring back at me at the foot of the stairs of this antique building. my blood froze, and i felt my stomach drop. i got actual, physical goosebumps stumbling across these two creepy dolls staring back at me in the corner, and i couldn’t leave the store without them. perhaps the little painted porcelain boy would be somewhat spooky by himself if it wasn’t for the terrifying lidded gaze of the porcelain girl with the hairline fractures and slightly open lips. i cant look at her. i dont really find dolls scary, I like to find the spookier ones ones, and she makes me paranoid as hell. i keep her face covered and her up in my closet except for when i bring her out to show her off proudly as the spookiest thing I have but……. i dont really collect dolls anymore. even thinking about her brings a fearful tear to my eye. i don’t like to think about her for very long, but that’s why I’m so fucking proud to own her. ( YES — I’m THAT white person in the horror film )

TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON hhhhh a beardy jawline, high cheekbones, crooked canine teeth >:3c

A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF b.l.t.’s with avocado. ahhhh. my mouth is watering just thinking about it, oh my god. just a bit of salt and pepper???

A FOOD YOU HATE barbecue anything, i hate the taste of bbq sauce, you keep your nasty black goo to yourselves at the grill. twice in my life i have presented with barbecue pizza and both times i cried literal tears. why would you do such a horrible thing to a person? what kind of a monster are you? how do you sleep at night?!

GUILTY PLEASURE the sims. constantly. always. i’ve sunk thousands of hours into my households. oh also uhhhhhh i run two 80s horror blogs, one being a shitpost blog with occasional art of mine and one gremlin fanfic ship blog for horrible, terrible self indulgent fanfics i’ll get the courage to finish writing & post so i can be cancelled on tumblr for at some point. NO, i won’t link them. as i pretend they’re even all that hard to find, within a day i was found on both by someone i admire here a lot :’) ilu bby thnk u eternally for supporting ur local horrifying dumbass wtf

WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN the same clothes i’ve been wearing all day usually, my sweats & long sleeve raglans or my hoodies. i like being cozy day & and out. and ugh. efoort. just throw me in a blanket in a cool room and im out.

SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS serious relationships with some openness or poly. i wish i could fling! just not exactly easy for demisexual autistics lmao.

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE I think I would be adopted by my grandma as a kid. It would save me some trauma but mostly I think it would get my autism diagnosed way earlier and save me angsting all these years of wondering why & thinking it’s my fault I’m struggling so much and so loud and affectionate and different in a world that i didnt fit in the same way.

ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON when i get drunk i text people how much they mean to me in my life. does that answer your question? ahhh. i’m sometimes a cuddle monster with friends, i message people with long texts about how much they mean to me, but I sometimes really don’t like to be touched at all.

A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN FLYPAPER. F L Y P A P E R. FLYPAPER. FLY, and, I can’t stress this enough, fucking PAPER. ( Though also Whole Nine Yards and both Re-Animator & Bride ). I have watched Flypaper already like, 5 times this week and I’m still not done, and the other movies have been on repeat for days in this household within the last year. In the past it has also been Donnie Darko & the new Nightmare on Elm Street. roast me.

FAVORITE BOOK White Fang by Jack London. Have I actually ever finished it? No. Do I still own a copy I’ve had since childhood thru multiple dogs eating it, taking it to and from school, and highlighting and circling all the best parts of chapter one ever since I was a kid and it was too hard of a book for me to read? You bet your ass. If I ever need inspiration I just reread chapter 1. Although one of my other favorites was Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes. But White Fang is like, a weirdly personal text. We stan London’s writing in this household.

YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE FENNEC FOX!! I used to daydream about having my own named Shiloh when I was a lil kid. they’re adorable little things and i am obsessed. i mean, gimme any fox and im happy, marble foxes, red foxes… but I was obsessed with fennec foxes. Also tbh ferrets. I want a ferret.

TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL] Rosa & @ninetyscnds‘s Luke, Rosa & @iimpulsivity is already screaming my name, Rosa & Constantine, Jesse & Andrea from Breaking Bad, and the joker and harley of 80s sci-fi Dan & Herbert from Re-Ani. I am but a simple opossum.

PIE OR CAKE Pie! I’ll take both pumpkin & melty apple over cake. also, cheesecake is more pie than cake soooo, pie wins.

FAVORITE SCENT my dogs / my blanket. :’) It’s the most grounding smell in the world.

CELEBRITY CRUSH oliver jackson-cohen, i’m fucking GAY and im angry about it. there i was, minding my own business, and i saw that asshole in a certain SHIRTLESS GIF and it AWOKE SOMETHING IN ME. dont talk to me about it, holy shit im obsessed with beardy men now god fuckkdafjaask i hate him why did he make me this gay i was perfectly fine being into girls but NOOOOOO him and his dumb hairy chest and sweet rugged face and I—— I also am obsessed with the archaeologist & television personality Josh Gates and may or may not be considering making a fan blog for him bc idk if my anthropology docuseries host is Dad or Daddy but i love him lots

IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO I would go on a dive with anthropologists and archaeologists doing fieldwork research in the ancient cenotes of the Yucatán Peninsula. My actual dream job, catch me crying & fantasizing about being underwater documenting Mayan skulls given as offerings. Fuckkkk, I love anthropology so much!! take me anywhere in the world to immerse myself into culture & archaeology.

INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT Introvert. I have a real life friend I see roughly once a month, and that’s it. Plenty of online relationships, I’m chatty, message me all day every day. but i dont do people well.

DO YOU SCARE EASILY I used to! Really bad. I don’t as much anymore. I do get paranoia a lot still. Having therapists telling you that the FBI could be outside your house watching you through your windows will kind of nervous. ( no google results for: yes hello fbi i am a writer please dont put me on watchlists i just have research i need to do for this idea im working on, would you like to try again? ) I have nightmares nightly but not they never make me afraid, they just make me feel like crap. jumpscares and loud noises and seeing people reaching into their pockets dont set off as many brain alarms anymore tho!! progress haha.

IPHONE OR ANDROID I like my android better bc of capabilities but meh

DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES My mom, her husband & I play COD for family game night, and Silent Hill is my life’s blood. I’ve sunken hours into Sims & Skyrim, and Norman Jayden from Heavy Rain is my #1 fictional character in existence, why do i love the druggie babies

DREAM JOB Oh… You’re asking me to pick? I’d love to be an anthropologist doing work out in the field. Underwater archaeology is peak, but I’m also heavily considering being a body recovery diver or police diver. I’d love to see myself in uniform someday, if possible. Just the thought makes me teary eyed & proud.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS fund my person creative & educational endeavors. get myself a spooky ass abandoned house to make my own home to create in, and travel to the world’s best dive sites. just live a mild life of education, creation & exploration. that’s the dream TM.

FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE dr. hill is a gross and whiny lil bitch this post brought to u by the miskatonic crew, how is everyone here an even worse bad guy than herbert west precious dan excluded talk shit get hit tho john winchester from spn and both walter white & todd from breaking bad are all in my crew of hated characters. i jusT… the reani novel is difficult to read because i have to deal with this old sack of shit.

FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER Supernatural :-)

… AND THIS CONCLUDES A DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO!! //

#||: && the mundane ( ooc );#( get to know a bitch!! )#( this was... a lot of me rambling about weirdly personal shit at 2 am )

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wolfqueen-is-here · 5 years

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Kisses Remembered, Kisses Forgotten (Jonsa Secret Santa 2018)

Dearest @moonchildslife, I am so sorry for my delay, Christmas was crazier than I expected, and I didn’t finish my gift on time. But it is here now, and I hope you don’t find it too terrible ;). I wish you a wonderful year with Jonsa becoming canon in April and our fandom wishes coming true. Be happy, be healthy, be yourself! <3

Many thanks to @jonsasecretsanta2018 who made all of this happen, you truly are amazing!

A/N Don’t be alarmed by a brief mention of the Hound. I promise you, it has nothing to do with SanSan in any way except mentioning The Un-Kiss. Book!canon, but mostly show!canon, can be interpreted both as a filler and an AU. 2300 words

Kisses Remembered, Kisses Forgotten

Every now and then Sansa remembers, even though she has tried so hard to leave the past behind. The Hound was rough and scary, but the kiss that he took left a lingering taste on her lips—it was as soft as snow, almost familiar, she’s caught herself missing the shy affection that came with the kiss, a wary touch so vulnerable it felt almost childish. She remembers the kiss that he took. The only thing she doesn’t remember is him taking it.

Every night feels longer and darker than the former ones. It isn’t until she jumps from Winterfell walls that she remembers how to feel warm again, but the road north is as cold as ice and covered in snow. “His lips felt warm”, she thinks as she runs towards her freedom. “The kiss that he took, it felt warm.”

There are times when she is almost certain that she gave it willingly.

—

“You look cold,” Jon says after staring at her in silence for a good half an hour. It would annoy her beyond reason, were it anyone else, anyone less trustworthy, anyone less… Jon, but coming from him it’s almost flattering. No one has ever cared for her so since she’d lost Father. Not once until this very moment has she felt safe since then.

“I’m okay,” she smiles. His unblinking eyes refuse to leave hers even for a second as if she’d vanish otherwise. Sansa leans towards him and strokes the inside of his palm with her thumb. It’s the most innocent of caresses, but it makes Jon stiffen and finally lower his head. She misses the stare instantly. “I’m okay, Jon.”

She tastes his name on her tongue. It feels rough—when was the last time she used it? —but sweeter than all the cake she’s ever had. She wants to swallow it, possess it, make it hers. “Jon,” she muses. “Jon. My Jon.”

If it’s something more primal than sisterly affection, she doesn’t recognise it in time. It may occur to her later, but it will be too late.

—

The first night that she spends at Castle Black is a sleepless one. The shadows are long when she paces aimlessly around the room, too exhausted to fall asleep, too cold to lie still. Knocking at the door alerts her at first—she’s not used to feeling safe yet—she whispers: “Who’s there?” so quietly as if she were hoping nobody would answer.

“It’s me,” Jon says.

She lets him in.

“Do you have everything that you need?” he asks, looking at her with a strange longing.

Had it been more fitting, she’d say: “I have you,” but in their current situation she’d stumble over the words for certain. Instead, she just invites him to stay—just sit next to her and not talk until the sun rises and the shadows go back under her bed. They repeat it every night after that, it seems to comfort both of them.

—

Jon’s eyes follow Sansa as he tries to find something—anything—that would remind him of a little girl she used to be. Her skirts dance when she rocks her hips, walking around Castle Black like she’d lived here all her life. He wants to avert his gaze but finds it impossible. She’s grown so tall, so slender—so beautiful.

“She’s your sister,” he thinks angrily, hiding his face in his hands. “You are not allowed to look at her like that.”

There were times, many lives ago, when they were only children. Sansa’s hair was more orange than auburn, Jon’s face—smooth, not a trace of beard or scars on it. They both called lord Eddard Stark their father. They both walked around holding Robb’s hand. They both watched Bran fall asleep while they were singing lullabies. Both, yes, but not—together.

When he tries to think about their lives before everything happened, before he went north and she went south, he keeps coming back to that one particular memory. And he’s not allowed to remember it. Not ever.

“She’s your sister,” he thinks, but as her lips move while she’s telling him another story, he watches. The redness of them almost provocative, they look like she’s been biting them for the past few hours. It’s a mesmerising set of colours: her lips with a raspberry tint, screaming to be tasted, licked, devoured; her eyes, deep blue almost exactly like the ones that used to follow him with disdain when he was nothing more than a bastard boy, but there’s no disdain in Sansa’s eyes, only hope. Her fair complexion contrasts with the dark streaks of her auburn hair, almost brown in the dimly lit room. Jon quashes the need to cup Sansa’s cheek and stroke it with his fingers, to check if her soft, unwavering beauty isn’t only a product of his hallucinations. He wouldn’t dare.

—

Sansa enters the dining room when there’s barely anyone left. A few wildlings share a horn of ale, laughing. There’s also Edd sitting in the furthest, darkest corner, and he looks really down—Edd always looks down, that’s an inherent part of his personality, “The defining part”, Tormund insists, but Sansa doesn’t care, because Edd, albeit rather shy, is kind and caring, and that’s more than she could expect from a stranger. The wildlings terrify her still, she doesn’t know their customs, they’re far too loud and bold for her taste, so she chooses to cross the room and take a sit in front of Edd.

They don’t talk, there’s no need for it. Sansa eats her soup, wondering whether Jon has already eaten, and Edd just keeps staring at the ceiling. Weirdly, his silent presence comforts Sansa more than any words could.

When everybody leaves, Sansa reaches for Edd’s half-empty horn and moves her hand up and down its uneven surface. It’s become apparent these past few days that sleep refuses to come easily for her at Castle Black, and when she finally drifts off after hours of rolling over from side to side, her dreams are filled with memories—but are they real? Are they hers?

She doesn’t think about the Hound that often. He’s been a big part of her life when she was a prisoner in King’s Landing, but her fascination with his tragic story faded and went by long ago. She cannot remember his face anymore, only the scars, she doesn’t even know if she’d be glad to see him again. The memories of him and the torments from the Lannisters became too inseparable in her mind, and that’s why she doesn’t want to think of him or imagine their meeting.

Not now. Not ever.

Then why is her brain so set on bringing back the memory of the kiss? She can feel a sweet breath on her chin every morning when she wakes up from her blurry dreams—why is it sweet? Wasn’t the Hound monumentally drunk that night?—she can taste it, again and again. Her first kiss, that one thing she knows for sure. She’d gotten a few pecks from Joffrey, yes, they should probably count as first, but somehow it doesn’t feel right.

She closes her eyes and clasps her hands around the horn.

“I thought you weren’t fond of our ale,” Jon says, suddenly very close—how did he get so close without Sansa hearing his steps? Did she black out again?

“I heard it helps to forget.”

“It does,” his voice sounds worried, “for a while. It doesn’t make your past go away.”

Sansa raises her head and their eyes lock immediately as if they’re a couple of lovers always on a mission to find each other.

“For a while,” she repeats. “Sounds better than never.”

The ale tastes much worse than she remembered it—it’s bitter and stale, and reeks of old, damp barrels—but her lips don’t leave the edge of the horn until it’s empty. Jon’s eyes move to her throat as she swallows and stay there even after she’s finished.

At first, she doesn’t think anything’s changed—the same emptiness fills her, the same desperation—but minutes pass as they sit opposite one another in silence, and her head finally starts to feel both lighter and heavier, her thoughts stir inside her brain, but never fully form. It’s a bliss. It’s a curse.

She sits in the middle of a meadow, it’s late summer. The winds got chilly but she’s got a blanket around her arms. She’s knitted it herself. She’s content. She’s happy. She’s Queen Naerys Targaryen.

“Are you alright? That’s quite a lot of ale you just inhaled,” Jon murmurs, gently touching her arm. Sansa looks up and smiles at him.

“I’ll be fine,” she answers. “I’ll be fine, Jon. You can go to sleep, you look tired.”

He laughs hoarsely and it makes Sansa’s belly tighten.

“Not until I see you safely tucked under your furs.”

He approaches her with his back straight and a sword at his side. Where did he get that sword, she thinks briefly but continues to look at his beaming face.

“I’ve come to rescue you, my Queen.”

“You can’t, my love,” she says, remembering to dress her face in the deepest, most regal shade of sadness. “We’re bound to our fate forever. You’ve made your vows, as I have made mine.”

He kneels before her. He’s brave, he’s gentle, he’s strong. He’s Prince Aemon the Dragonknight.

Sansa tries to stand up all too quickly, her head spins violently and she has to hold on to the table to avoid falling. She can barely feel her legs and her arms—how strong was that ale?—but the burning hotness of Jon’s hand on her lower back, oh, that she feels.

“Careful,” he says, pulling her closer and throwing her arm around his neck. “You’re still much too weak to start drinking so heavily. Don’t let go, alright? I’m going to walk you to your chambers now.”

And he proceeds to do just that.

When Sansa lies in bed feeling truly sleepy for the first time since she’s reached Castle Black on her dying horse, she suddenly remembers everything.

His face is just inches away. He’s wearing his hair pulled tightly in the back like a true adult, but he’s been playing with swords all day and a few strands have escaped the knot, hanging loosely around his face. She feels the urge to curl one of them around her finger but before she decides to make a move, he leans in and kisses her on the lips.

It surprises her—the lightness of it as much as the act itself. “It’s not wrong as long as I’m Queen Naerys and he’s Prince Aemon,” she tells herself as she involuntarily moves closer and exhales into his warm mouth. His fingers wander up and down her sleeve, curious but never inappropriate. The kiss doesn’t last long, a few heartbeats maybe, but before it’s finished, she can hear him whisper: “Sansa.”

And instantly he’s Jon again, and she’s Sansa. And they’ve done something unforgivable.

—

Jon’s almost asleep when he hears banging at his door. He jumps out of bed and rushes to open it only to find a breathless Sansa on the other side. Her eyes are wide, and she looks absolutely terrified. If she’s still a bit in her cups, it doesn’t show.

“What happened?” he asks.

She’s shivering. He wants to put his hand on her arm but she jumps away.

“You kissed me,” she hisses, her tone accusatory.

Jon blinks. Not that he hasn’t thought of it, because of course he has. He won’t admit it to anyone but though he tried extremely hard to see his long-lost sister in the beauty that has brought him back to life, he failed miserably. The truth is—she was never a sister to him, not even before they parted ways.

“I assure you,” he answers quietly, “I did not. I didn’t even enter your chambers, I asked lady Brienne to help.”

“Not tonight,” Sansa sighs and Jon realises she’s standing before him barefoot, dressed only in some old sleeping gown, but somehow she’s never looked more queenly with her demanding expression and fiery glare. “When we were children. A few months before we left Winterfell. We played… we played, and you…”

And he kissed her.

He kissed her and he never regretted it once until she came to him, crying, and ordered him to forget it ever happened. He didn’t want to, it was too precious a memory, but he obliged. For Sansa.

“I thought we weren’t speaking of it,” he whispers carefully.

She was really shook when she came to him that day, he never wanted to see Sansa cry, and to be the reason for her despair—it was too much for him to bear.

“We aren’t. I just… I forgot.”

“You forgot?” he asks, feeling hurt. It was his only kiss before Ygritte and he wasn’t even allowed to savour that memory. How could she have forgotten?

“I’m sorry,” she says. “What we did… it was wrong. I didn’t… I couldn’t… I think I repressed it. I made myself believe it happened with someone else.” She lowers her head and he’s afraid to spook her by asking who that person was, but he’s certain it will haunt him forever. Was it Joffrey? Gods, he hopes it wasn’t him. Jon couldn’t bear it. Sansa makes a strangled noise at the back of her throat. “But I remember now.”

He doesn’t know what more to say, but Sansa doesn’t seem to expect any kind of explanation. It happened. It shouldn’t have, but it did. And it changed things between them.

Sansa finally dares to look at him. Her lips are parted, ready as they were in that meadow years ago. He doesn’t take advantage of her vulnerability. When they win back Winterfell, when the war is over—she will come to him of her own volition.

And he will have that second kiss, gods be damned.

#jonsa secret santa #jonsa fanfiction #jonsasecretsanta2018 #jonsa #jon x sansa #got #a gift for moonchildslife #secret santa #gift

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fullsunhyuckie · 5 years

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we grow up!

*here’s to mark’s graduation from dream! you’ve done well, mark.

slice of life!au

in which a group of strangers go for an adventure of a lifetime.

disclaimer: i know mark graduated yesterday but i wrote this story a long time ago and i feel like there isn’t a better time than now for me to post this. so here goes my tears :,)

day0:

at 19, mark was unsure of his future.

it never crossed mark’s mind that the age, twenty, would come so early but boy was he wrong. it was as if it was only yesterday he just learnt how to chew gum.

mark was intending to go on a road trip for five days right before he officially becomes an adult. but you see, the downside of being a hardworking individual is that you simply have no friends. that’s how mark came up with the idea to invite 6 other teenagers around his age to follow him. he went to the local cafe right opposite his block. it was the place where teenagers often hang out.

there he met 6 other teens who were different yet he could connect with them easily. renjun, an 18 year old aspiring artist who left his hometown to pursue his dreams. he’s small but he can hit a bitch if he needs to. jeno, an 18 year old cheerful soul who will do anything to ensure that everyone is happy. he says he is no fun but he can turn on his funny button if he needs to. haechan, an 18 year old devilish boy who should’ve been born in the 80s. he picks on others but he sure is full of love. jaemin, a loveable 18 year old boy who could flirt for a living. he may seem a little odd with all the flirting but he’s the most loyal friend you can ever come across. chenle, a 17 year old loud loud child who is absolutely talented. he screams a lot but he definitely has a beautiful voice. and lastly, jisung, a 16 year old dancer who is insanely talented. he’s young but he is taller than you. a fact.

“let’s go on a road trip.” and that’s how their journey began.

day1:

mark thought this was a stupid idea. he was the only one who could drive so how was he supposed to fully experience his adventure. whatever it was, he still continued on. it’s not like he could find group of 6 other willing boys.

he borrowed his brother’s, johnny, red suv and drove right off. there was no plan, nothing. just 7 boys in a red suv ready to experience life together. it started off awkward. none of them talked. even haechan, the supposed moodmaker, was silent throughout the whole journey. there was just nothing they could talk about, they didnt know each other at all.

even as they reached the first pitstop, they were silent. probably just constant gag sounds from renjun because he disliked awkward situations. i mean it’s not like mark could do anything, he was driving. while they were having a cup of hot chocolate (weirdly enough, all of them ordered the same thing), mark blurted out a question about why they decided to follow him. they all had the same exact answer (well not exactly but you get it) and that is because they all have a dream,,,,,and then the awkward silence returned.

they all willingly agreed to pitch a tent and have a camp by the sea, the moment they arrived. well, at least it wasnt so awkward when they were asleep.

day2:

the next morning they drove off to have brunch. on the way to the diner, famous for their pancakes, haechan boosted his stereo to michael jackson’s bad and surprisingly all of them enjoyed it. they had more similarities than they thought they would. as they reached the diner, the mood was lighter than ever. it was as if sleeping together made them bond well. again, all of them ordered rather similarly. jaemin suggested they played a prank on the waitress to add a little spice to their morning. jisung decided that they should play a game and the loser has to sing the menu to the waitress.

as expected, renjun lost and he was forced to do the prank. he came up to her and before he could say anything the waitress said, “with voices as loud as you boys, you think i wouldnt know what you’re about to do? save yourself the embarrassment.” with that all of them ran out, leaving a red cheeked renjun standing in the middle of the diner. remember when i said renjun could hit a bitch if he wanted to? well this is what i meant. none of the boys left without a bruise. especially chenle who could not stop laughing.

they decided once again to stop by a park to take in fresh air. mark decided they should get to know one another even better. thats how they ended up playing a game of two truths and one lie. there were stupid lies and horribly dumb truths that came up and one that got mark thinking whether growing up was something he wanted. during haechan’s turn, he explained that his truth was that he was afraid of not having anywhere to go after being an adult. they all left what haechan said aside because truth be told none of them knew for themselves either.

they carried on playing other games and having dinner at the same diner because let’s be real, renjun’s pride comes after a good meal. but throughout the whole time, all of them started getting afraid of the horrors of their adulthood. even for jisung who still has 4 years left till his coming of age.

day3:

now, the third day was the most awful. they felt raw this day. but we’ll get to that. it has only been 2 days but the boys felt as though they had been friends for decades. or rather decade, none of them are twenty as of now.

jaemin and jeno went to the nearby convenience store to get breakfast for the boys. for the whole day they decided to just sit around and talk. and so they did. thats the reason why they felt raw.

mark sat without sharing anything. he was terrified. he was afraid that if anyone knew about it they would mock him and his innocent dream.

renjun began first. he talked about how he thinks that his dream is dumb. it has been 4 years since he came to korea and not once has he gotten an offer to further his art studies. whats the point he thought? anything he drew would never be approved as beautiful enough. and it sucks because when he showed his artwork, mark thought that it was a masterpiece. to him it doesnt matter how beautiful the piece was, it was the story behind it that counts. and that came mark’s first lesson, that nothing in life is ever fair.

jeno went on to talk about how he had no goal. nothing at all. for him, his dream is to live a life with no regrets. thats why he’s not pushing to do anything to stress himself out. he’s just gonna go with the flow. after graduating from his high school barely passing, he feels as though it doesnt matter. jeno believes that he’ll get somewhere one day. after all he’s still a teenager he’s got enough time to think about these things. but for now, he’ll just live in the moment. and that was mark’s second lesson, to live and let loose.

haechan was next. he had a dream to be a singer. and god that boy could sing. but for haechan he felt insecure. no matter how many people came up to him to tell him he was talented, he just cant accept that. that’s probably why he hides it with all the snarky remarks and the over the top compliments for himself. he never felt that he was good enough. but mark feels bad because haechan doesnt deserve to feel that way. haechan was full of love and he couldnt understand why he couldnt give himself any. this made him learn his third lesson, that only you can bring happiness to yourself.

and then there’s jaemin. mark cant help but feel sympathetic for him. jaemin was a dancer, a really good one (from the videos jaemin showed). but the thing is he cant dance anymore. at all. he got into an accident and now he isnt allowed to dance anymore. but the weird thing is that it didnt stop him from being content with life. for he feels that everything happens for a reason. and mark looks up to jaemin because he never fails to put on a smile knowing that his dream of being a dancer is near impossible for him to achieve. that’s how mark learnt to smile even if failure comes.

well for chenle, he had already achieved his dream. well partially. he is currently a trainee singer at a well known agency in korea. as a child, chenle was a music prodigy in china. he went on talent shows and clinched first place in almost every one of them. it was as if chenle’s future had already been written for him to be a singer. but he never used his past to get a boost for an opportunity in the industry. he worked incredibly hard to get into the agency and never once did he take his place for granted. mark learnt from him that its important to stay humble.

and lastly, jisung, the dancing king. mark was amazed by how insanely talented this boy was. it was no wonder he became a famous child dancer, known all over korea. anywhere jisung went people would recognise him and mob him for his autograph or a picture. but as mark sees how jisung acts when he’s with those his age, he realises that jisung is in fact just a kid and he’s just trying to enjoy life as normal teenager. its a pity for jisung because he devoted his whole youth to dancing, and now even when he looks back, his childhood was all just a blur. he complains that if there was one regret he had, it was not living each day to its fullest. that was mark’s last lesson. to seize every moment.

by the end of it all, they were all starting to doze off. and before they knew it , they fell asleep. except mark because he cant help but wonder what will happen to these boys once they part. and in that same moment he thinks, thank god i met these people.

day4:

the next day they woke up in the late afternoon. all of them felt exhausted after spilling almost everything about themselves.

the moment mark woke up he felt awful. there were only two days left till he becomes an adult and that thought scared him to his wits. he began sobbing softly and the boys came running to him. mark explained.

mark was afraid of having a future at all. everytime he tried, he failed. mark wanted to be a rapper. wanted. because there were so many competitions that he attended and he failed. so many people told him that he’ll fail because as a rapper, there’s no future for him.

mark shared that his parents were supportive of him so that wasnt a problem. but you see he didnt want to burden his parents. he knew if he pursued this dream it would take a lot of money and none would be gained back. now mark’s left, all goal-less because he knows if he tried, he’ll fail for sure.

so that’s how mark ended up here in seoul. because he needed a breather. his parents advised that if he doesnt know what to do he should just enter college. thats a sure success because a degree can get you any job you need. but mark was sure it wont bring him happiness because he knows that he doesnt want to go to university, it’s just not him. mark felt empty as though no one understood him, until now of course.

as the 7 dreamers sat under the night sky they thought to themselves. the adults always say you need to plan for your future, you need to know what you want to do. but they never help you. they’d just leave you to figure things out by yourself.

the adults never tell us how hard the process of growing up is. they never prepare us for it. its like going into a battlefield without weapons. no matter how loud you shout or plead for them to aid you. its useless because now they’ll pull out the “it’s your life. it’s your decision” card. but if you fail, its all on you. and if you succeed then suddenly, the family’s the one who paid for the fees and give you moral support and all that jazz.

so that made them awfully afraid because they knew that one day they’ll be doing something and that they’ll get somewhere. but what if they arent happy? what if they’re miserable?

day5:

it was the last day. the 7 of them drove back. the whole drive home was silent. they knew that it’ll be the last time they would see each other. mark will be leaving. he didnt intend to grow so close with the boys but he did and now he hates it. his heart is heavy to leave them but he has to. he understands that people come and go. thats just the cycle. unknown to mark, this is part of growing up. he has to accept that, nothing in life is constant, no matter how hard it is.

as they reached the same coffee house, you could see how all their eyes turned crystal. but their egos are high, so fret not cause they’ll not cry. except renjun and haechan, they cried. hard.

all mark did was put a smile on his face and he said “yo dream. promise me you’ll remember me, alright. we’ll see each other soon.”

and with that he left. and never turned back. because he knew if he did, he wont be able to say goodbye.

day6 (the day mark turned 20) :

now, mark’s 20.

at 20, mark’s still unsure of his future. but he knows that all he wants for now, is to be happy.

-Z

#nct imagine #nct reactions #nct fic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream #nct 2018 #7dream #imsosad #imissmarkalready #ithasntevenbeenaday #anywaysenjoymytears

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guileheroine · 5 years

Text

red vines (chapter 1)

Adora's life is finally beginning to fall into place, but the snare of a fraught friendship keeps pulling her backwards. Catradora coming of age/high school AU / 1.5k / ao3

Read 16:15.

Adora blinks, her mouth thin and expressionless, eyes boring into the little grey word in the corner of the screen. Over the way too many minutes since last Saturday that she has spent staring at it to absolutely no avail, it's drawn from her frowns and pouts and scowls plenty and, yeah, maybe not a few frustrated tears.

It's Friday now and she no longer has the energy for any of that, but she still can't stop looking. Trying to will it to life, as if she wouldn't be alerted as soon as there was anything worth looking at.

The bus arrives. She clicks her phone off and pockets it quickly, sticking her thumb in her belt loop to suppress the instantaneous urge to reach again.

She has other things to think about. Practice, and what would be an appropriate thing to bring to the sleepover at Glimmer’s tonight - she should bring something, right? - and the science homework that probably needs to be figured out before she leaves. (It requires a little more… imagination than what she's used to, and actually, now she figures she’ll probably ask one of the girls for help over the weekend.)

Once Adora has sat down, she can't not draw out her phone again. The Princess Group Chat - unimaginatively named because Bow and Glimmer wouldn’t quit changing it back and forth, until Mermista seized their admin powers without warning and locked it - is blowing out silent red notifications like a little bubble machine. Adora watches them without opening the chat, content with the weirdly warm knowledge that she would be welcome to.

She knows that Catra definitely has nothing like that.

And immediately, she feels awful for knowing it.

Her wrist loosens and the phone falls into the dip between her thighs. She glances straight ahead out of the window, at the blur of trees and houses. It's neither sunny nor cloudy out - the perfect balance, in her opinion. The steady rumble of engine, the rhythm of the journey, lulls her deeper into her mind.

So she and Catra haven't really been on speaking terms since she transferred to Brightmoon. Well, Catra isn't speaking to Adora .

The blunt sadness seeps slowly through her chest the way it does each time she confronts the thought headlong - it surprises her, though it really shouldn't at this point. Adora’s fingers itch. She clasps the cool handrail and squeezes.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Catra had shown up on her doorstep after the first week of school, arms crossed tight, eyes narrowed. A sunny September morning.

“I told you,” Adora answered, though she didn’t repeat what that answer was, and its absence hung in the air as she stood back and munched on her granola bar. She’d sent a clipped sort of text a couple of weeks before: Btw yeah I’m probably going to Brightmoon next semester - and on the few occasions they had hung out in the intervening days, neither had brought it up. Frequently, the sudden remembrance was a gut punch, meaning that she had ignored the inevitability hard enough to convince even herself.

Adora was in denial that Catra was denial.

And if she had thought that Catra was peeved before.

Catra’s eyes had slitted dangerously as she stood before her and put her hands on her hips. “Uh, wait, did you tell me? Adora?!”

Adora met her eyes squarely, suppressing the guilt that welled up in her stomach. “I’m going to Brightmoon this year. Mom and Dad agreed it was for the best. I needed a fresh start and you know how the team’s been getting to me, I haven’t been myself at Horde…I told you, I did tell you.” She began evenly, but by the end she was placatory - pleading in a way she did not want Catra to see her be.

Catra looked contemplative for the briefest moment, and then, like she had only been humoring her, her frown returned with a vengeance. Adora could barely look at her. She picked uneasily at the cuff of her shorts. The air was stifling.

“So you’re abandoning me?” Catra demanded finally, and pulled the door shut in her own face before Adora had a chance to answer.

In the wake of the deafening slam, Adora didn’t know whether to feel distraught or relieved.

She hadn’t been thinking of Catra, was the honest, uncomfortable truth. She had been thinking of all the wretched hours just withering in class at Horde High, of the dread that loomed on her once-eager walk to soccer practice, the dirty looks fielded her way from classmates and teammates alike when they thought she couldn’t see. At the end of the semester she had gone straight to Principal Hordak with her polite but frank speech planned out.

Catra is nothing if not scrappy. She’ll survive just fine without her. It’s not like they’ll never see each other (or she had hoped.) It’s not like they weren’t friends before either of them ever joined the team, or came to Horde.

Adora sighs aloud. She pushes her knees together to prevent her phone from slipping out between them, but she doesn't pick it up again, heart heavy as she returns to her mind's recesses after the brief interruption.

Coach Weaver hadn’t been happy when she told her, after her final practice. In fact, it would probably be an understatement to say she was unhappy with Adora’s “drastic, don’t you think?” decision. Instead of the sympathetic disappointment she might have expected to receive from any other teacher, she had responded to Adora’s announcement with a curt “I see” - but Adora could feel the heat of the resentment blistering behind her sharp eyes, her talon-like nails practically puncturing the ratty glove in her hand.

She'd slinked out of the changing rooms just as Catra strode in, but Catra didn’t comment on Adora’s slump if she had noticed it. Catra chose not to notice anything contrary to her desires.

Anyway, from day one, Brightmoon Academy had been a whirlwind. Having promised herself a break from soccer, however temporary, Adora had tried out for the cheer squad. She can still see the stars in Glimmer’s eyes as she bowed out of her final somersault. Life with the Princesses of Power is a dream: she had learnt no sooner than she’d smoothed the gold shoulders of her new uniform that this squad was a squad, as Bow had enthused, practically yelling his welcome as he slung his arm around Adora’s shoulders. Some of the seniors on the team weren’t quite as excitable, but it was wonderfully clear - from all the plastic bottles of homemade punch Perfuma brought everyone, from the speedy attention with which Netossa stitched up any loose seams in their uniforms - that they were equally devoted to their squad-squad.

Adora had been swept away. Junior year had outshone the rest in less than a week. The first few weeks of school had put everything not-Brightmoon from her thoughts - between the overwhelming tide of eager new friends, stimulating classes, intriguing extracurriculars, there was just no space for anything else when she felt like her mind was expanding in real time just to contain all the novelties.

Anything except Catra, that is.

The regret had been gnawing at Adora somewhat surreptitiously, catching her unawares, deflating her at the most unexpected moments. She was on air and then suddenly she wasn’t. Finally, at the park last weekend, she had hung back from Glimmer and Bow while they huddled around Perfuma’s pet frog, and pulled out her phone to text Catra.

Hey. Can we talk?

Read in a matter of minutes.

Catra, seriously. You cant just ignore me. Please please let’s talk

Read immediately, before her eyes.

But it's been a week and they definitely aren't talking.

A new slew of notifications lights her phone up. She shifts her thigh to turn it face up, reading each text from the lock screen before it's displaced by the next.

Spinnerella: WE’RE MAKING COOKIES <3

For tonight

･ﾟ*✧･ glimmer ✧･ﾟ*: mom says pick up milk, i’m telling you guys so you dont forget to remind me

mermz: milk and cookies, what are we, 4?

[bow emoji]: we are young adults who know hw

the JOY of milks and cookies

･ﾟ*✧･ glimmer ✧･ﾟ*: its FOR MOM

[bow emoji]: sure sure so is perfuma's weed

･ﾟ*✧･ glimmer ✧･ﾟ*: uh that's *her* mom's weed

Tonight, practice is at some old warehouse place that Entrapta has managed keys to from her parents, since all the rooms at school were booked up. They're meeting at her place. As the bus approaches the stop, Adora finally picks her phone back up.

She pulls tight on her ponytail, on the straps of her new backpack, and hops off.

#catradora #catradora fanfic #**#she ra #spop

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kosmicdream · 6 years

Text

Your Comic Baby

You know that comic or story that you made when you were a teenager (or sometimes even younger) that propelled you to really WANT to create it. FOR REAL. You put all your energy towards it, for years, determined that it was going to be the one you HAD to make. But then something doesnt go right because, comics are hard-- so you start over and over and over and each reboot gets a bit more discouraging because you have SO MUCH planned out for this thing and you’re just stuck in the loop of redoing the first 5 pages every couple of years. But something about that story, you just cant let go of. You still want to make it happen because you’ve invested and dedicated so much into it. I know that feeling. I call those stories.. your Comic Baby.

You might have a lot of babies. I know I do. But there’s always this one certain comic baby that i struggle with more than the others. Its a difficult baby because I first made this baby when I was 13. And over the course of my highschool years, I was very outspoken about how i was going to really make this a real book for everyone to read. I was constantly working on it, even taking sketchbooks and clipboards to draw it or the characters in class. People were waiting to read this story because they could see how passionate about it I was. But comics were a lot harder than I thought they would be in my mind. I mean, i knew they would be difficult but it was like my art wasn’t as good as I knew it could be when i drew comics. I didn’t get it. And I’d learn so much and so fast that once i got one chapter finished and ready to read, i didn’t like it anymore.

This process went on until i graduated highschool. This dream of making a comic. Specifically THIS comic. I had a lot of stories i was planning on doing, but there was this one comic i really REALLY invested just. My maximum comic energy into. It was different from the other comics and stories. Not that the other ones werent good, they just didnt have the same bond with me that I had with this story. This comic baby was gonna be the thing i was going to be known for and be the first comic i would presented into the world. And in the end.. it actually wasn’t.

I mean, it was, in a way. Eggshells is a prequel to that baby comic. Set in the same universe. Part of the same story, more like a mini test version reboot of the One True Baby Comic. I decided to give the comics thing another try and started to work on eggshells in August 2011, then to ink in Febuary 2012 and finally started to post it in 2013.. sometime.

I took a really long break from comics between finishing highschool and starting eggshells. I would try here and there, but not getting this baby comic out when i was still IN highschool somehow made me feel like a failure of an artist. I was very hard on myself. I didn’t really know if i was even capable of BEING a comic artist because my comics weren’t coming out how i wanted and I couldn’t finish anything. Besides that, I didn’t even know if I could even make them as a career. (I still don’t know if I can but I know I’m going to continue to try.)

When I decided to start Eggshells, i decided that it would be another attempt at my favorite baby comic because I knew that if any of my stories had the emotional legs to motivate me to get through to the final page-- it would be that one. That special baby comic. I poured so much work into planning and preparing everything in a very tradition sense. Scripts, thumbnails, drawing layouts and props and character turn arounds.. ect ect.

Then the fire happened and I lost my ‘comic bible’ of sorts. The rough draft sketches of the entire thing. It was very sad.

But even before then, actually inking pages was not very fun. Because the process i made for it was .. not very fun. I was running into the same walls that I always had when rendering comic panels. It just was too slow and I couldn’t get a consistent look that i wanted. I wasn’t sure where to put detail (or balance the detail) so I would over render constantly. I would zoom in too much. I didn’t know how much to shade and word bubbles annoyed me. I wasn’t very satisfied and I would spend way too much time on each page.

I felt pretty exhausted after trying to ink it for one year and not even getting through the first chapter. Doubt and old dread of not being capable of a comic artist weighed on my shoulders. Of course then, when the fire happened, i just decided to put all that aside again. My life kinda was.. thrown in a loop.

Similarly, my life has been thrown in another one of those loops. A different kind but still, the same sort of disoriented “where the fuck should i live” kind of things. Some of these feelings have come back, the anxieties and unsureness but.. mostly just remembering about them rather than feeling the SAME things. I have acquired a sense of accomplishment in my art .. just with a totally different comic that came out of no-where. (the worm one, you know.)

My relationship with my art has changed so much at this point and I’m so.. not.. what i had predicted for myself?? Not in a negative way. its just odd. FFAK is such a different comic than i thought I would make too. I would describe the experience of working on FFAK as like, im in a shitty junkyard car and ive decided to slam on the gas as hard as i can and see how far it’ll go. Then it just didn’t stop. It took me on a fucking journey but at 90 miles per hour. No careful consideration, so much explicit violence and sex, aggressive confrontations and social commentary. Sex hat jokes. I really got to see a side of myself that this story continues to bring out. And as I worked on ffak more and more, I would sometimes look over at the passenger seat at the Comic Baby. Crossing their arms judgmentally at me and giving me a look like “Having fun? What about ME? Wasn’t I the important one to you?? Am I not special anymore???”

So sometimes i’d feel bad. And try to work on that one again.. but it didn’t make me feel good. I felt like i had to ride the FFAK wave because that was what was happening in the present and I was discovering too much about myself to go back to this older thing that i had a frustrating history with. It wasn’t that I didn’t LOVE the other story, it just didn’t feel right to work on then. So i just let myself focus on where my energy was wanting to go: The Worm Fucks. And the worm fuck comic is the one people read first. Its the first comic of my own i really got to.. read and experience more than just the first chapter. Its been amazing but its so weird. I feel like its a different kind of artist that makes it sometimes.

I don’t regret the worm fuck comic being the one I’m known for but its still funny to me how easily it might have never happened. If the fire hadn’t taken away so much of my work, I probably would be still slowly pushing out pages for eggshells. Or maybe I would have given up and moved on to do something else with my art career? I don’t know. All i know is what I ended up doing was this weird worm comic that is still going on for .. thousands of pages! and has no end in sight! I didnt even expect eggshells to last 1,000 pages but now I can tell my page-pacing is different than how i expected. I still haven’t even finished a comic yet. Its weird? Am I able to finish comics? I guess I don’t know yet because I haven’t. i might “know” endings to my stories but its very different when actually getting it done. I understand that life is more complicated than that and things like fires can change the circumstances in 10 minutes.

So I’m feeling a fear about this uncertain future I’m facing, I’m seeing that I have to make a lot of huge life changes for where I am going to live and what I have to do to make money to support myself. I’m scared that my routine ive established with FFAK will have to change. I wonder if I’ll never be able to replicate the same exact “throw it all into the wind” energy of working like I was able to.. at least I know I can’t right now, because I need to be careful and calculated again. My surroundings arent stable enough for me to dive headfirst into my projects.

With that I’ve noticed I’m drawing eggshells a little bit and enjoying it like I haven’t before. Is it what I need right now? It feels weirdly comforting to know that, no matter what the history i have with this comic, I’ll come back to it and continue to pick at it a little. it makes me feel like, no matter where I’m going to be in this world physically-- my comics will come along with me and they dont have to leave. they arent a product of circumstance. I can get right back on the horse. Its just part of my life that doesn’t have to go away or be taken away from me. Its a nice secure feeling that there’s this art thing isnt something I have to start over. I’d rather build on what I’ve got and it might take me a long time but I enjoy the journey. That feels good to me.

Anyway, even if I’m scared about where i’ll go from here I know i’ll have my car of screaming comic babies at all different ages that are demanding my attention. and some are more patient than others, i’ve totally ditched some babies along the way that i might pick back up later or merge with other babies through some horrific experiment. I’ll even make some new ones because life inspires me constantly and I have so many problems to sort out and what better way than to project on some cool anime characters. but i love all my comic babies!!!!!! and they love me. i have unique and interesting histories with all of them.

comic baby is such a creepy word but it really feels like they are your strange brain children that are also you. i don’t ever want children of my own, but i can see that i pour.. small small aspects of that i think that energy might be into my comics. (im not pretending its actually the same thing to be perfectly clear.) They take up all your time + energy and make you constantly lose sleep..and they grow distinct personalities that you dont expect and have to deal with.. people will judge you for them and how you “raise” them (make them), you’re endlessly proud of these babies and protective and shed tears for them and want them to SUCCEED and live on forever. you want other people to love them TOO and see the best parts of them, for all their flaws. You want em all to grow up as you hoped or planned but they wont at all. They’ll be totally different but also better than you could have imagined.

Comics & Art are such a special thing to get to experience. While i hope that i can make my dreams a reality with my art, I know that they’ll always be an integral part of my life + how i experience and see life and i’m so thankful ive decided to really let room for it there. Its amazing to me that i almost thought it wouldn’t. and i wasnt going to be allowed to be happy with my art because it wasn’t good enough and i wasn’t enough. but i am. and it is good.

Thank you for reading. -Kosmic

#ffak faq #ffak #feast for a king #eggshells #comics #webcomics #personal

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aitian · 3 years

Text

5:43 am 12/29/2020

end of year.

feels right to revisit how i looked this yr on photobooth. most ppl only knew me through my webcam. i dont have many thoughts abt who i am or what im doing these days. mostly playing video games with alice. we smoked together a few days ago & i still feel like im in deadtime. like maybe i cant remember the important things im supposed to from the past. & rly existential lately. the panic is just in my throat, thinking abt how fast time is going & how there is no way back. i think there is a carceral logic behind the entrapment that all us depressed & anxious kids feel.. like the inadequacy of being alive, the failure to feel like a beautiful future is unfolding. im not sure anyone feels that way these days, & maybe thats why they r all holding on so desperately. all empires fall. im so grateful to be able to feel moms body & be her child these days. i just wanna lay my head on someones chest & feel good, warm, soft, coarse fabrics. also feeling anxious abt my classes, turning in the same essay that isnt rly an essay to all of my profs. oops. it was rly the best i could manage. vestigial body... i will finish writing smth i feel proud abt one day, & it will be written to myself. like this.

idk when the last time i wrote was, but maybe i wanna talk abt my relationships. feels like i got a hard reset on my brain by smoking with alice. oh god. anyway i havent been talking to sherry & adele recently bc i just dont feel right around them. in november remembering again what it felt like to feel so unwelcome all the time, feel that energy & those manners replicated by them toward me.. ik i should just talk to people frankly abt the things im uncomfortable with at home now that i have so much practice doing it but i just dont want to. somehow it feels like they should all just know, that they are living alongside me all this time in various ways even if i am not saying things to them, & our actions that connect us in relationship are felt by them too. & there is some part of refusal to see the relationship for what it is. im not begging for some trans pity or for commitment.. those kinds of relationship arent real. what is real is wanting to spend time with me, wanting to experience some sort of exchange between bodies, wanting to walk toward near horizons. feels like everyone who listens & agrees when i speak just does it to be amicable. there are only so many ways i can reassure myself that ppl understand me for who i am, even when they are constantly being led astray to hurt me. like alice saying its good for doctors to have objective views of their patients, outside of any other relationship. mom saying that she trusted our teachers to teach us what we needed. getting weirdly gendered messages from friends at home, & never asked in good faith about how i feel. its rly so shitty that even questions like how was the day or what ru thinking rn or whats on the horizon r things they want me to ask, then dont want to answer, & make fun of bc they feel awkward saying anything. so stupid. its this kind of shit that holds me back from letting my desires be known, these rituals of repression & shame. & i always wanna hear ppls desires & then immediately regret asking to know that our relationship is in direct conflict with their utopias. so stupid.

today after dinner, which was in the late evening, mom & alice & i did some short yoga stuff & then we did silly lion dancing. im still sore. i stretched out everything that felt sort afterward. anyway, felt good to be goofy & sweat & breathe hard.

what im feeling abt this year: - vestigial body x1000 --> dark room, heart beating fast, waiting & squeezing. theres that episode of midnight gospel when the dying dog/reindeer lady talks abt giving birth & dying, like squeezing & tensing & on no this moment will never end & then releasing & coming to rest & then all over again. & that is what i think abt every time i feel in panic now, or in a deep place of fear. there r some pains that cant be escaped, & they dont need to be. they r felt all the same. - i made a new friend through q&a who is a kid im supposed to b mentoring. it just means that all relationships are reciprocal (i dont like that word either, but they r never simply one way or transactional) & we met every thursday during the school yr. i prepared short stories for us to read & writing prompts, & we wrote abt stuff. - i just cant remember. all i remember abt this summer was going to stone valley with mom, feeling the sunlight & my tiredness (in an enveloping selse, toward my body & my spirit), playing games w sherry, playing some piano, & working on that fire emblem romhack. feels like the year went by so quickly. like i just had my birthday a few days ago, & now the new year means it is coming again soon. sometimes whole lives are vestigial. what is gruesome & magnificent abt that is that those vestigial bodies are hard to kill without clear intentions & collective effort. what sucks is the entrapment. i have been feeling this cant remember feeling in a bigger way, toward what my life was like before college, toward who i was in college now that i am so removed, & even more toward the kid whose world blossomed into smth they desperately desired & felt afraid of. middle school me would be horrified. maybe an even younger me would be proud, feel in awe or struck by the rightness of home. - i want to remember mom. the way she walks around with her hands in her pockets. 帅吗。:). how we skip/gallop sideways to avoid the wind on our walks, & she bounces when she walks like a silly kid. i love her. unruly gender, stubbornness of feelings, failure failure failure is why we r hurt but also why we r rly still allowed to be here. thinking abt moms essay, moving away from her grandma, thinking she would live together again someday. thinking abt how im home this yr, in a way i thought maybe i would never be ever again. its so cruel to leave love behind for the sake of a ritualized life i could never participate in. i wont do it. i just wont.

some feelings abt the coming year - i want to meet someone like myself & fall in love. deeply, with myself, in relationship. i wanna have sex too, & feel held in my being alive. i wanna be allowed to enjoy my body in even more regards like wearing short sleeves & feeling the sun on my arms free from dysphoria, existing in public not noticeably & feeling the evaporation of racial tension, waking up with that feeling of possibility, like i want to be alive & eat food & go outside & do those things in my body that remind me that i am a part of how the rest of this world is growing. i wanna be held in that knowing, together, of wellness & movement toward everything that means we matter to each other. - playing video games has been so important to this vestige & i dont want it to remain that way. i wanna collect stuff & grow stuff in real life, & grow myself & my relationships too. its not living when its the mourning of the freedom i should have always had & should have every moment i am continuing to life unfreely. - i wanna do some stuff to express gratitude to the ppl i have continued some sort of relationship with. feel bad abt how no one has emailed me back in more than a month now. maybe wanna do a q&a chapbook or yearbook. complex feelings bc i am so not in relationship with the ppl i wanna care abt. it sucks. part of that is letting go of guilt too, & being real with myself abt how much responsibility is on the other body to make me feel okay in our relationships. its rly not my fault that, u kno.. everyone is used to making someone like me feel like shit. sad that my most continuous relationships this yr r with professors. those dumb feelings of obligation r killer. i guess im grateful to be legible in some ways, while feeling the intensely awkward unwillingness to be real abt our positions relative to each other. i think lots more happening in this regard in the coming months w classes, blk atlantic ecologies, maybe smth w prof lee. & sometimes thinking abt what grad school would mean. - i wanna feel slow, i wanna feel like myself, i wanna feel free. some feelings r sitting in the garden on my own in the spring, planting some stuff. thinking abt what it might grow into, coming back again & again. the sun ducks behind clouds & comes back out, & the world feels so light & passing by. & time feels forever, like i have so much patience to dream & breathe & observe. this is one of my early memories, watching shadows on the concrete/sidewalks at preschool, feeling warmer then colder then warmer again. i also wanna feel the kind of collectivity that makes me know we all insist on home. i want it to branch beyond this home that i know. & also mean that i will not throw this away. im thinking abt how to exist intimately with more than one person at once. it is smth i will learn as it comes into my life.

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coffeeandmoonthoughts · 5 years

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04.05

It feels like it’s so easy for me to fall right off the side of the planet. Which leaves me feeling like I need to death-grip the whole thing just to stay afloat. It’s so easy for me to get distracted. Or my mind to fill with the wants, needs, opinions, the clutter of others’ ideas. I don’t want that. I want to feel crystal clear with myself. I want to listen carefully and hear my own intuition. It’s so effortless to get caught up with literally anything else. That tiny little whim can be so easily drown out behind the clutter of everything else I’m picking up on (a highly controversial subject of something called mirror-neurons and emotional contagion, among other things). And when I can’t hear myself, I become afraid. It’s scary to soak up everyone else, until there is no room for you. At least, it feels that way. It’s hard to recognize the difference between something stemming from roots deep within myself, or from someone else near me. It forces me to defensively cling to myself. Which, after a while, doesn’t always feel good either. I don’t want a death grip on life. Lightly, lightly. Life is too easy for it to feel this hard. Easy and lightly. It seems I can go weeks before I finally find a way to shut out everything and sit in singularity. Shut out… that’s not the right word. “Shut out” hints at closing a door, putting up a wall or tightly boarding up windows. No, it’s more of a clearing out. The sweeping out of some unwanted, unasked-for clutter. Everyone else’s mess. But, I’m not boarded up or sealed shut. I’m clear with myself. I guess that would be the word to use… It sounds so strange to talk about. Feelings. Because it requires a leap of the imagination into the unknown or unknowable. It’s a risk of sounding stupid to someone who cant think more abstract. Something science can see, but not see. I (with all my facts and scientific brain) am still learning to be okay with it. My right brain and left brain wrestling with each other when they should be working in unison, fusing different vantage points into one idea I can actually work with. I think, this is what you call surrendering to life. I can understand it, barely wrap my head around it but see it crystal clear. And instead of fighting it, find a way to work side by side with it. Flow with it. Stay clear with it. Embrace it. Rework it in a way that benefits me, or allow it to rework me in a way that benefits my life. Understanding that there is so much that I do not understand, but by having faith, it will simply be. Eventually, when I’m able to feel clear, I wont feel like I want to jump out of my skin anymore. Yes, sometimes it feels that way. When my neurons are firing so fast that all I want to do is jump out of my brain, my body, that for some reason was built/wired this way, fine-tuned and developed over time. But if I can learn a way to work with it, to bend not break, to have more flex and give, it will make things easier. Less resistance. It’s kind of like a feather in the wind. The feather gets blown around but it’s so light that it doesn’t get ripped apart. It simply floats back safely to the ground, intact. This is the reason skyscrapers are built flexible. Because if they weren’t they would snap. This is why humans, in futile resistance, might subject themselves to more suffering than needed. The trick isn’t in finding a way to land on the ground, the trick is in learning how to maintain your feather spine while bending in the gusts of wind, even embracing them. I’d like to know how to do that.

In this particular dream I was in a house. Not my house, someone else’s. I was coming over for something, with a number of people, and I was the first to arrive. In the dream I remember I was flustered because one of the rooms wasn’t clean for company. I mean, it was an utter disaster by anyone’s standards. But it wasn’t a main room. Still, I was so annoyed that the person hadn’t prepared for company or cleaned. I started cleaning myself even after the company had arrived. They stayed in a main room and I hoped they wouldn’t come into the other room while I cleaned. It felt like the more I cleaned, the messier it became. I cleaned the floor and for some reason (it’s a dream- it doesn’t have to make sense) the floor was paper thin and started peeling off. It came apart. And under it was broken strips of wood. The strips of wood were splintered and there were massive holes between beams. I tried to fix it as best I could. I even moved something over the hole to cover it but it just got worse, until everything came in swirling around the room. It was like a black hole except I was in it. Debris came in through the hole in the floor and it was utter chaos. Paper and things came flying into the room in a whirlwind and I couldn’t stop it. Eventually I gave up. I got the host and told the host that this was on them. I did what I could. It wasn’t my fault and any unfavorable opinion from the guests (three men sitting at a kitchen table) was on them, not me. I washed my hands clean of it, even though I was a mess and practically furious from frustration. Like I said, its a dream. It doesn’t have to make sense. Usually in dreams, none of it makes sense and its all a bit wonky (our vision is spotting, sometimes actions are just mere flashes or feelings, sometimes the whole dream takes place in a matter of a couple seconds and in order to remember it we need to run through the feeling and flashes immediately after we wake up). But we always remember the feeling. Because despite the facts, however exaggerated or omitted they may be, the feeling is what remains with us - you cant fake it. It sticks around with us even after the fact. That feeling of uncontrollable flying debris. The feeling of trying to damn up a gaping hole. The feeling of being the black hole. Even right now it’s making me want to crawl right out of my own skin.

Me: Well, seems that during this time Neptune was on top of Mercury. Neptune being the planet influencing our dreams and Mercury being the planet of communication. Makes sense. Everything feeling so water and foggy. This all taking place in Pisces, which is the opposite of Virgo which rules our logic and rational mind. Opposing sign. Which may mean our logical mind isn’t working the way we like and may send us inward to listen to our intuition. Needing us to be able to discern between what is true, rooted in reality and what is coming in through intuition or what is based in fear or old patterns, programming or reverting to the past because it’s what is comfortable. And Venus (planet of love) and mercury will be moving out of Pisces and moving into Aries which is way more direct and fiery and even playful. So, thank god that watery abyss is over now.

Also me: Astrology isn’t real. You’ve had a migraine for two weeks straight. I think thats foggy enough. But good news, girl, you finally broke through your migraine.

04.09

I was walking down a pathway. A sidewalk of sorts. It was between shops and brick buildings and I was walking with my dog and my sister. The concrete was old and cracked and weirdly poured and shaped. I remember telling her about a way to make caramel cake that I saw someone doing and I tried it myself. Then, I remember the sidewalk slanted rapidly and twisted around a tree. Part of it was broken and you had to let yourself down and then jump over something. I tried it first and was explaining to my sister how to do it. Then we kept walking. But all of a sudden I was on an old street I used to live by. I was walking down the sidewalk by myself. A truck came up behind me, still a distance away, and I turned around to get a look at it. It was an old white ford and it was swerving back and forth. The driver was drunk. He could barely keep his eyes open. I thought to myself, oh no I have to get out of his way. He wrecked his truck into a building and stumbled out with a shot gun and started walking. Oh my god, I thought. This looks really bad. He didn’t look like he was going to shoot someone up though. He looked like someone who was two sheets from the wind and trying to save the shotgun he didn’t want to leave in his truck. He carried it around and stumbled into buildings like a video game character stuck in a glitch. I looked around to see if anyone else was seeing this. No one else was around, except for his equally drunk friend who was walking far ahead of me in the exact same scenario. I quietly panicked, not wanting them to notice me but felt like I had to find someone, to get their attention. Although they weren’t causing a trouble yet, no one in their right mind walks around drunk on the street haphazardly carrying a shotgun. I felt like it had bad news written all over it and then I woke up.

Last night I fell asleep around 8 pm. I didn’t mean to. I was sitting in bed working on my laptop with my dog by my side. A sense of overwhelming drowsiness suddenly swept over me. I just couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. There was no reason for me to be falling asleep that early, it just sort of came out of nowhere. I actually nodded off a few times before I let my laptop drop to the floor next to me. When I woke up from this dream it was 3:08 am. Despite my sleepy haze I noticed the bedroom door was wide open and the hallway light was glaring at me. That’s weird, I thought. I always keep the door shut when the dog is with me because he roams and gets into trouble. And I always keep the light off because it pours into the room and right into my eyes. I rolled over and went back to sleep until I woke up at 5 am and found my phone floating around in the blankets, no alarm even set. Most of the things in this dream make sense. Earlier that day I saw a large white truck that was driving too slow. I also saw a hack to making a homemade caramel that some woman put on a cake. I guess it hit me in my feels because it carried over into my dreams. The rest of the dream was just little bits and pieces I don’t remember. The thing I don’t understand is the two drunk men toting shotguns and why my door was wide open and the light was on. Most things I can usually link to mental processes, but sometimes they don’t make sense at all.

#personal

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lavenderglassgirl · 4 years

Text

927 am mon dec 9

It’s Monday. The week is starting. I feel okay. But its that weird kind of okay where i feel like I’m just pushing away all my real feelings. I don’t feel depressed or anxious or paranoid but I don’t feel happy or content or at ease. I feel, almost exclusively, just this feeling of mild determination I guess is the closest i can come to describing it? It’s like a sense of just doing what needs to be done, whether I like it or not.

Like, I guess I just feel like I’m sick of being so miserable and anxious and paranoid, and i know what i need to do to at least help with that, you know? I’m sitting here feeling awful and over thinking every single thing i do and say for no reason. I mean for reasons but not good ones. And I’m not doing everything i can to take care of myself. I’m saying fuck it and eating until I’m uncomfortable even after i feel full and don’t want to, just because its something to fill the time. I’m keeping myself inside, inactive, and b i n g i n g and not drinking like any water! I mean lmao that’s how i got so FUCKING DEPRESSED WITH EDDIE.

But I did some good things for myself this weekend. I hung out with a new friend (which was weirdly intense but i think she’s just kinda a nut and has zero filter so well do okay, she’s not nasty) and i went for a hike with Lola. So like, a good weekend even if it felt like a weird one.

Okay so like the real reason I’m actually journaling this am is I wanna kinda recount the dream from last night but honestly the further i get into the days the less I remember my dreams. I know i was having one yesterday night when Jesse texted me at like 3:30. That one I do remember, even if vaguely, but I saw some missed called and messages from another girl on his phone and asked him if he was cheating and he said yes. And like, i was fucking heartbroken and just kinda let him. LIke i think we talked a little bit about it but essentially he had needs i wasn’t meeting and so he found someone to meet them and i just was so hurt! Like on a lot of planes and it was basically a dream where Jesse told me everything that was wrong with me and justifying cheating and my ass was like you right i just wish you told me before you cheated and didn’t break my trust (in my head i guess but i didn’t say much to Jesse i was like trying to respond in a way that wouldn’t label me as “crazy”)

Tonight’s was less awful and intense, just more of a general discomfort. I want to say it had to do with moving, or Katie, but i quite honestly cant remember. I just know that once i was up i was up. Which is why this is becoming a problem, because sometimes I’m waking up at like 2-4 am and cant fall back asleep because of these fucks. They don’t happen every night, but i’ve noticed an increase in the last couple of months. OOf.

Also

I think Jesse is jealous of Katie and her having a partner and I’m so uncomfortable with him talking about her boyfriend and all that. I think it’s because it makes me insecure that it bothers him that she’s with someone else, and that hes extra bothered their sexting. It makes me anxious about our relationship because I’m scared he wont tell anyone about me ever and this for whatever reason makes that feeling more intense? Like Katie’s showing it off and doing whatever to piss him off but hes made it really fucking clear we cant date openly until after the divorce is finalized which is gonna be who knows when but like. What if he wants to make Katie mad? Also he told me he felt guilty for having me (in a slough of the rest of the conversation this was not the main point at all just one that stuck) and it made me feel so awful. I feel like hes scared about staying in a relationship with me through the end of this and I guess I’m kinda scared he might break up with me because it’ll come down to me or the kids, and 1) don’t even choose someone over your kids 2) hes already chosen his kids, every single day, so there’s not even a question anyways. Like. I don’t know this is stupid i guess, if it comes to a choice between me or his kids i would walk away ya know, and i know he wouldn’t stop me. I guess what’s scary is it has always and still does feel like that’s what its going to come to.

Oof. So like i know i started by saying i feel okay. I now feel awful.

This is what I’m talking about lmao.

I just want to feel! Important lol.

I am, to me, and I’m going to make myself a priority, and become relentless in pursing my goals- is connecting with sal and working my way into an actual position within the company with a few good references, not just jesses.

Maybe that’s why this relationship (and a lot of my romantic relationships) are so heavy on me. I have this tendency to lean on and put everything into my relationships, they’re the basis of my life. But i need the basis of my life to be independent, and my relationships to help make my stronger. I don’t want to have to depend on relationships to survive, that’s percarious.

Honestly i think that’s it, and why i stress so fucking much about all these changes. AND THAT PROBABLY STEMS FROM MY PARENTS HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK. Okay okay okay. So like my parents were supposed to be there for me and support me but support was always contingent on like, me making them happy.

And now i look for relationships that help build me up not tear me down, sure, but I’m still completely dependent on my partners. Derek for weed and an escape, Kacee was my entire happiness, Eddie was my validation and control and fucking rent.

Jesse is the closet I’ve come, emotional speaking, to actually being supportive and healthy for me, he communicates wonderfully and does what he can to help me. However i have put myself in a position where I’m completely financially dependent on him and I don’t really have another option right now unless i get like two full time jobs maybe. Which is hard for me because if something happens between us its not just our relationship on the line its my entire life.

But like, that was my parents before him. And he isn’t abusive like my parents were. He wants to see me succeed and be in a place where i am supporting myself. I know that, i really really do. And I’m going to continue to work my ass off to get to that point, and keep this in mind.

A good question to ask may be “Am i stressed about the relationship right now or am i carrying the weight of my life?” I need to make sure I’m keeping those separate. Because honestly even if Jesse broke up with me, I don’t think he would fire me (unless i was a huge asshole and sucked at my job but those are things within my control that i wont be doing so not an issue hahaha)

Jesses calling, more later

#ugh #a day

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ashnameesh-blog · 5 years

Text

Awaken

The yellow light is too timid to perforate the spongy clouds. They are fighting in a way to gently abut the earth’s surface. They are getting darker, cotton balls are moving swiftly and its not any more white. Sky is murmuring, may be the heavenly gods in a plan to have a war. Qadra’s mom is yelling at her seeing the very bad weather asking her to get in. "Why she is always behaving such weirdly, am I the only girl at out”, qadra got irritated by her moms words. She was busy playing cricket at that time, so the scolding had a strong base. Qadra was a girl of 24,grown up by a single parent and is pursuing her PhD in botany. She lost her dad in a car accident when she was just 6.There ended the pages of her beautiful life. The papers left to read were really challenging. Her mother took care of her by doing household in neighbouring. Life became too difficult for them to live. She moved with qadra to the present house in a busy colony. Qadra was a girl of courage and intelligence who is now pursuing her studies in a top graded institute. She was really a worth to her mother. She tried to wipe tears of her mom. She was not a kind of usual girl. She didn’t talked much to the people around her but to the other living beings. She spent her leisure times in the world of her own creation. She felt talkless creatures better than the overpowered humans. She was unaware of the untold bond between her and them. By annoyed by the words of mom she was rushing back home. On the way she found something was tickling behind. “Shhhh....I know its you. Stop it.Its too annoying", by her high toned words, he at a sudden stopped and asked ," what happened .You are upset I think.” She in a low pitch replied, “ohh...nothing. Mom is yelling, I should be there in no time”. He too accompanied her to home. That was khwayish who was the only friend of qadra. He found it really troublesome to have a friendly knot with qadra at first. He was only abled after 5 months of struggle. Its the 6th year of their friendship. He completed his graduation and now working in a reputed company. Every night ends up with lot of convictions as to chose was a huge task. “Drink the milk and sleep, it’s too late” order came from mother. As she was disturbed with her project she shouted back, “leave me, I’m not a kid to pamper”. Her mother’s heart out broken with tears. She couldn’t stand there any more. She left wiping eyes. “Why is things going always in a wrong way .I’m the cursed one.” she muttered and began to scramble . Soon with lots of pressures she drown to sleep . Next morning was a bit more tough for her. “Mom where is my file??I placed it here”, she said while searching. Her mother without uttering a word found the file and handled . “Ohh, I’m sorry maaa. Yesterday I was little disturbed and couldn’t control myself “. Tears shed from her moms eyes “You don’t know how I suffers. If your father was there I wouldn’t have much suffered but don’t know where he is . ”What.....”She couldn’t bear it. “What did you say mom. He is alive. Then why you hide it from me..Why..” she got broken down . Her mom remained weeping. Qadra shook her and asked “Why are you in silence, where is my dad? mom please, your silence kills me”. “I don’t know. He is missing. I don’t know where to go where to search” her mother said . “You didn’t said it before, it was an accident. I want to know mom. Please” “When you was 6 ,he was behind a research. One fine day he said he will only return after the research. Days passed months passed. No news of him. I was confused with what to do. I just shifted to grow you up”. Her mind with lots of stuffs went on for a deep sleep. On a common day in the centre she found something very awkward to see. Dr. Jefin Mandrik who was the head of the institute, was accompanied by some uncommon people to deep forest next to the institute. First qadra didn’t took it seriously but later she found something was weird in it.She thought about it day and night but nothing was found. One fine day she thought to follow them. With lots of risks she tried to follow them without being caught. ”ohh my god to where these people are going. Its been a while”, she got exhausted after travelling a while. The path the covered was getting incongruous. The way was covered with thorny creepers herbs tiny bushes big canopies. Their intention was unknown still. Why they were moving there with lot of toil? Who those people were? Tons of questions squeezed out from her brain. She was terribly out of mind. At last they stopped in front of a giant thing. It looked like a creeper heap, nothing was specifically visible. She just went for a keen observation. Dr. Jefin ordered to bring the man. ”What is he just saying. Bring the man? Which man?and for what, Is he began to have experiments in humans too “,she was hard trying to tolerate her curiosity. Dr Jefin took the man’s hand and pricked his hand. Blood began to pour out. He put a drop on the giant heap. Nothing happened therefore he returned back with disappointment. What is the man related with this giant thing. She slowly came out from hiding and came near to the giant infrastructure. She was astonished to believe the fact that it was a giant castle covered with creepers moreover it has got a door .The hold was so beautiful that decorated with flowers and leaves. It has got a pitcher. May be the professor dropped blood in it.What is he related with this. How such a big thing in this forest. She unwillingly returned back. Qadra lost her sleep. She was ardent to know about it.She decided to notify khwayish. She immediately called him and asked him to be there at the centre at 11pm . Qadra was totally messy in appearance. “What happened to you something is wrong “He asked her desperately . I want to say you something, just follow me.”she said. Being night travelling caused them injuries.Vageuly they reached there. “Khwayish, there is something weird about this place. I saw Dr je.....Before she could complete a loud lightening threw her to the door of the castle and khwayish was laden unconscious. By the bang some of her blood fallen in the vessel of the door and it opened with a cracking sound gently a little. Her head was aching. She tried to stand up. She asked for help ,no one replied. “Any one there” She opened the door. The heat and light from inside couldn’t resist her to stand. She fell down. After a good nap she opened her eyes. It was dark around. “Where am I”. Nothing is clear. Its seems to be a closed compartment of red mud”. She just tried to view in a faded vision. There she saw some fruits and honey. She finished in no time. She was in more thirsty than hunger. She searched for water and found it next to a heap of grain. She noticed the sound of people coming. She got relaxed and took a deep breathe moreover thanked god. She thought to thank them for lending hands. “I’m so grateful to you people, I don’t know how to express my.....”she just turned by saying that. “Aaaaaaaaaaaa.My god My god. This is not true, its incredible. I am dreaming. It cant be ,It is not the truth....”she just began to run here and there like a mad cow. She just closed her eyes and moved to a corner of the closet. “Nothing to fear about. We are not your enemies but you are ours.Believ the fact that every thing in this universe can hear, see and understand. Its U being made fooled. Just relax ,We will be there after a while”, they went back. “Its terrible out here. Where I got caught up. Is this fantasy”, she just opened her eyes and had a look whether every one was gone. “No its not imaginary. How could these six legged ones talk and these ones are larger than me.Its getting largely strange. I should escape in any way”. She was helpless in a way as she was unaware about the way to move out. Every way seemed to be similar. A lot of passages could be seen but which way. The opposite is too not seen ,like an endless tunnel. Again footsteps could be heard. She ran to a corner and stayed close to the wall. “Walk behind. There is something more uncanny in outer world.” they said and turned. “More strange. What more than this“, She just took a deep breathe and followed them. The passages were too vagued.They neither uttered a word while moving. Light could be seen as a spot. She got alleviated. She was too much perspiring eventhough the air was damn cool. “Where these things are carrying me to”.....This is ......Ohhhhhhh......Jesus....I don’t want to see....Its horrendous..”,She just screamed. She stood at the top of a mountain like thing. She could see the crowd at the bottom. It included all kinds of creatures in this universe. Many were new too. All were cheering up seeing her. She understood there were nothing to be scared of. She exclaimed .They were dancing and singing in a festive mood. She was then taken down from the heights. She understood that the resting place of her was an ant hill. The citizens were giving much hospitality to her. She was taken all around their world. Poisoned one scrawling one climbing swimming one everything were seen. Scorpions accompanied her. “Here you can meet only creatures like us. There are many more worlds specific for others too. Only plant world sleeps therefore we shift there at night. You can not be taken there. “said a mosquito. “Its amusing. Many too worlds. How you people live is a bit indigestible”, she replied. Spiders beautifully weaved their net. Ant and termites heaps too had a well established infrastructure. “We are mutually living here without a disputes. As small creatures we are tortured in the real world. Humans established their power over us for their well beings. It will cause the end of the world which we wont allow” uttered an old dragon fly. “Helloooo...Get on me” “Ehh. Where is that sound from ”she looked downward from the elevated platform. It was a caterpillar making noise. “What do you mean by that. I want to jump???”She just made fun of it. A termite was passing by. It was a narrow passage too. While it’s movement it’s tail pushed her and she fell down. “I’m dead” she said. “But I’m moving” “Open your eyes” “Ohh....I’m sorry not dead “she laughed . “I loved it. It was awesome”, she said releasing air taken. “Need more???” “Ooppps. No way” she said to the termite by looking up. It began to move. She felt to be too boring to move in such a snail. “Leave me here. I walk faster than you” “Hold on my fur “replied caterpillar. “No need to hold.....Jesus...” she felt she was carried by cheetah. “Wahoo....It’s amazing” her hair was flying in the air and she too feel that. A cockroach intruded on the way and said “Stop here. There is someone you should meet. Come”. She was little anxious see that person. What will be that...... She get down and began to walk. She was taken thought creepy and grassy routes into a cave. “Go in”, cockroach went by saying it. “Me alone ..into this dark. How could they think of it.Is it a big creature”, by acquiring courage she went in. She couldn’t believe her eyes. He saw a man resting upon a rock. She ran towards him, but suddenly stopped on seeing his face. That was her father whom she lost at her childhood. She was rather afraid than being happy. Is this his ghost. “Qadra...I’m not dead.Im your father. I got here when you was 6.”he whispered. “If you are, why didn’t you informed us. It was too bad. You didn’t know how we moved these years “she began to weep.” I know it my daughter. I was caught here.I will tell you every thing. You are here with a purpose”. He continued ,”As you know I was working in POS research centre with my friend”. Qadra intruded and said “I know him dad .You said it before but not his name or picture. “Baby you are in real danger. I don’t know how to rescue you from this”, his beat increased. “Dad , how come me in danger” she was wondering. “Its all about my past” he murmured. “Past! Tell me dad. Tell me tell me” “Qadra...qadra...wake up. You are sweating and uttering something” She jumped from the bed and opened eyes. “He is alive. I have to find him”. “Find whom qadra. You are not in conscious” her mom said. “Nothing mom. I just had a dream. Nothing to be worried about”. She moved from bed and found that it was 6am. In the centre... “Hai qadra” it was Lora. “Hai..” She said without looking at her. “What happened. You are not as usual.” Qadra went without hearing her words. “What happened to her Stan? “She enquired with Stanley. “I’m not sure “he replied. “Why can’t I concentrate in my works. It’s busy travelling unwanted destinies.” I don’t know what the dream really mean. Dad dead or alive” Qadra was madly handling microscope. “Today must go there “she murmured.” “Go where” It was Stan. “Nowhere” She replied aggressively. After working hours she went into the jungle near by. The route was creepy as in dream. She didn’t found anything large as in dream but eyes wet by seeing the graveyard of her father. “You left us dad alone dad. “She sat down and weeped. A hand got placed on her shoulder. She stopped crying and looked. It was Stanley. “My dad is no more....I’m alone” She stood up and laid her head upon his chest. He gently run his hand over her hair. “I’m sorry.” She took her head and wiped and continued while going back “How ...you been here?”. “I knew something was badly haunting you so I just followed” “You are true with that “she smiled. “I didn’t find you speaking with anyone more” Stan said. “That’s something with schooling” she lowered her head and continued “It was in 6th grade. That time I shifted to a new school .Even though I had the pain of my dad’s death, that year gave me more pain than that. I actually was not good with there. Uncomfortable with the new atmosphere. The first day was much good but on the second day seniors came for ragging , much for worse the leader was a bullied one. He got rose cheeks dimpled round like a ball. Tall like giraffe with a bellied stomach for an adult to occupy. He break into the class with friends. I was called to tie his laces. I unwillingly was forced to do. After the tying he just pulled me towards him. I hit him and went back as was hitted upon a large air balloon. He took me in collar and said laughingly opening up mouth widely showing the unarranged ugly teeth ,“From today you want to reach my class upon coming and tie my laces.” “It’s more to die than doing this creatures orders” ,I could only say this in mind. Lunch time he called me to sit near him. I tried to escape but couldn’t. Well trapped situations. He prevented any boys talking to me. He used all time irritating me. I hated him for the maximum. That time came fashion show of our school. I was fond of such things. I too gave name. Our partner was only revealed on that Day. I was eagerly waiting for the day to come. I secretly found my partner. Thank god it was not that bullied. I’m not aware of his name till now too. I well prepared and stood behind stage. I waited for my partner to come. With lot of effort I accepted that the bullied one will accompany me in that show. Suddenly light went and came. I found my dress torn. “You done it purposefully. You bullied ugly creature. I hate you for the most” I ran saying that. “Don’t cry qadra. Its not the end” fanny who was a friend of mine tried to console me. “All will end if that bullied ones life gets an end” I said Some large sound could be heard. People are running. “Qadra ,that bullied one is beating and stamping Gaurav” “Gaurav....”I couldn’t believe. What he to do with him. “That stupid creature”. I ran to know about it. Gaurav and I were in relation for past one year. “Stop it .Who are you to put hand on him. I said to stop it” I screamed. “He done that to you. crotchet .believe me Qadra” said bullied boy. “Are you out of mind to say that. Why are you dumping it on him?”. I finished that day in wetting pillow. Next day morning fanny ranged the bell. “Why you in the morning?” I opened the door rubbing eyes. “That bullied guy is dismissed” “Wow..hurray..Thanks for the pretty large news” I jumped from the sofa and danced. “Qadra.....It’s not the truth” Fanny rubbed specs and said. “What truth” I just stopped jumping and sat. “He is not the culprit. Gaurav done it actually. I heard him saying to Aniya.” “Aniya....Why he talking to her. She always teased me and tortured me in all time.” “Gaurav is Aniya’s brother that you are unaware of” “Fine. All I done was wrong. I am the real culprit. Now too if I get a chance I will say sorry to him.” “I think some corner of your heart loves him “said Stan smiling. “Uff...never..yew..I just irritate remembering his face” She laughed saying that. On reaching home, “Mom. Can you show me his files please” Qadra asked mom. “Its in the cupboard. What you do with that?” “For reference” she gave a smile and moved back to her room. She searched each and every line of the files. Met his colleagues .Nothing was resulted. She thought to visit their old house but how could she alone. Whom would she call?. She called Khwayish to accompany. Their old house is in a very bad state. Everything got destroyed. They started to search to get something related to Quadra’s dad. It was an empty house. She sat down depressed. “I want to say something” Khwayish started. “Can you be my better half?” “Is the time to say stupid things. I don’t have such a feelings for you. I’m sorry” She said rudely. Her mind travelled to Stanley. She has some kind of affection towards him. “Its too warm here. I’m moving out” She went out. She noticed a big tree. She moved towards it. She got a nostalgic view of the time when her dad used to swing her. She went near and gently touched it.She took a round around it. She rubbed her hand on the bark and noticed that bark is getting removed. She removed most and found a handle with a pitcher same as she saw in the dream. In no time she pricked her finger and poured her blood. The door opened. She called Khwayish and moved in. It was quite dark and had stairs down. She moved with mobile light. On switching on the room light she saw that it was not an ordinary tree but the vary large laboratory chamber of her dad. It contained various equipment, solutions , chemicals , specimens. She read a note largely written on the wall “Awaken-talk with six legged”. She got a book while glancing them. She opened it and found that her dad along with his friend was discovering formula to communicate with insects. At the last page it was written “I didn’t expect this from you” along with a photo of a women. She looked like Qadra. “Who is this. Why she cheated my father? Is she who killed him?.” I know with whom there would be answers”. She rushed towards her mother and showed her the picture. “Tell me mom who is she? What is the relation between her and us. You cant be in dump anymore. Answer me” “You found everything. She is your mother” she replied . “Mother! Then who are you?”. “I’m your father’s sister. Your mom committed suicide when your father found the unwanted relationship with his friend.” “Who is that friend?” She asked in pain. “I’m sorry child. I’m not known of him but one thing he is planning something that causes too much for the planet” She planned to restart the experiment that couldn’t be done by her dad .She was also behind the one friend of her dad. “Who was that” She was always alerted by that question. Day and night was spent in the lab experimenting. An year got over with it. Still no answer. “Qadra...you have to mail the given document to ADM research centre from my mail box. The Id is jefinmand561k.” He left “Yes sir” She went to his cabin for mailing. “Jefinmand661k sounds crazy .What is 561k.....561k...ohh...its dads formula.”. Her heart beat faster eyes widely opened in red. “He is my dad’s friend. He thrown my family” She was at the peak of anger. She stopped work and ran to home. She took a leave from the institute and sat in home . She began to act like a psychic. She was taken to the hospital and admitted. She was hardly been abled to control. One day Dr. Jefin came for a visit. She scratched him with nails the whole body. He gave her a shot. She fell down in unconscious. After sometime she woken up. She escaped from the cell and went to Dr. Jefin’s home. He was sleeping. She gave a nice slap and asked him to wake up. “So you want to slap me right ? Mr. Sir” She bowed in front of him and said. “You scoundrel. How you here?” He said rubbing his hairless head. “Ohh. Wait for that. Do you know who I am...Do you know. I’m your dearest friend’s daughter Qadra David” “David’s daughter!” “Yes. You killed my mom, my dad my family and why did you?”. “I killed and I will kill you too. You want to know why .Your dad didn’t allowed me to sell the formula for an international company. Eventhough it was a failure the company agreed to take it.But David was a barrier. I was forced to remove him from my path. Do you want to know one more thing....I killed him by injecting the solution of our discovery so nothing remains. Hahahaa” he began to laugh. “ I know that he was killed in that way. I collected plants from his buried area and tested. He wrote everything about the formula in his diary.” “Ohh. Too smart to act but you cant leave this place with life as your dad.” “Ohh really. The same formula is resting in you too Mr. Jefin”. “That’s really funny. At the last minute too in bravery” She went near him and whispered in ears “I’m too a scientist born to a scientist. Look my nails”. Her nails were long with blue coloured. “ I injected the same formula you used in research that destroyed my family. You will be killed in 1,2,3...done” Dr. Jefin fell down lifeless. “Bye bye Mr professor” She went back to the cell in the feel that nothing got changed by her. “Qadra...Dr. Jefin is no more..” Qadra didn’t listen to him. “Qadra ..stop behaving like this to me. I know the truth” Stanley raised voice. “Why are you behind me? I can’t be back like before. I’m helpless.” She said pleading. “You may not but the bullied guy still loves you”....

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