#im actually really thirsty though but the water is broken

[jestlingnest]

[me at 3 am] im thirsty and i need to get a drink of water but i cant because dusknoir explorers of mystery dungeon will be at. the fridge

#im actually really thirsty though but the water is broken #pmd posting #explorers of sky

[icyharrington]

Is It Wrong?- Part 7 (Michael Langdon X Reader)

hello!!! so i have been trying so hard these past few weeks trying to get this final part of iiw right. i am insanely nervous to put this out there, because i don’t wanna disappoint any of the amazing people who followed this series from the beginning. i wanna thank all the thirsty hoes who have supported this fic and given me feedback, because y’all are the reason i had the motivation to finish the series. this is the most fun i’ve ever had writing anything, ever. i can’t believe this series is finally coming to an end 🤧BUTTTTT don’t forget that there will be an additional, shorter epilogue chapter! so stay tuned for that ;) I LOVE Y’ALL!!!! 

plot: michael langdon is a picture-perfect fuckboy, and, lucky for you, he’s also your stepbrother. how will you survive?

warnings: inappropriate relationships, fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, high school au, teen angst, like seriously A FUCK TON OF TEEN ANGST, fluff, vaginal fingering, handjobs, sexual intercourse, (semi?) public sex, dirty talk

word count: 12.8k (IM SORRY LMFAOOO) 

tags: @alicecooper19 @ritualmichael @blackfyrez @bbyduncan @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @michaelsapostle @trelaney @kissydevil @langdonalien @langdonsdemon @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @wroteclassicaly @cocosfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @theinevitableprophecy @sodanova @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @divinelangdon @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @nana15774 @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer @pr1ncessd1e @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @prophesieddarling @isoldedax @fckinsupreme @lvngdvns @hisgirlwonder @telexnesis @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @noelle525 @kleinegamerin @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @anacerta @nuke-em-from-orbit @thingsthatoncemeantnothing @littledemondani @beriveri @dcvilrising @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @imjustasadhoe @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @michaelsfrenchtoast @ms-mead @sarcasticbxtch20 @ringpop-poppy @coollangdon @s7venwonders @littlehouseofleaves @elvahavax @king-of-mischief-and-bitchez @alternativepetewentz @maytheforcebewithqueen

(sorry to anyone who asked to be tagged but isn’t in my tag list!! tumblr won’t let me tag certain blogs for some reason!!)

i.

“Goddamn it, how hard is it for you to follow simple GPS directions?” Miriam’s voice was pitched in annoyance as she scolded your father, whose knuckles were near white from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel.

“You know what? Why don’t I just pull over, and you drive instead?” your father snapped. You and Michael exchanged a glance in the back seat for what seemed like the thousandth time since you’d all loaded into the car several hours before.

In celebration of summer vacation, and you and Michael’s recent graduation from high school, your father and Miriam had decided to arrange something of an impromptu vacation. Your father was far too cheap to travel anywhere of any significant distance, so he’d decided that the next best option was to take a road trip down to Myrtle Beach, Florida.

“Oh my god, yes,” Michael had said to you after your parents had broken the news to you both. “Do you know how many half-naked sluts we’re gonna see there? Myrtle Beach is like, white trash central.”

That comment had been the fuel for one of the many arguments you and Michael had engaged in following graduation; there was tension in the air, hanging thick and heavy over your heads as the days crept along, and the mindless bickering between you and Michael was at an all time high.

Not that it stopped either of you from having sex. Quite the contrary, in fact— you and Michael had been having so much sex that it was maybe even getting a little ridiculous.

“Seriously, Michael?” you’d said after his crude comment, your tone far whinier than originally intended. “Go fuck one of those half-naked white trash sluts instead of me, then.”

It’d taken him several minutes to convince you that he’d been joking (even though you were still fairly certain that he’d been dead serious) followed by some admittedly top-quality make up sex, which proved to be enough to convince you to move on.

Maybe something was in the water, you thought. Even Miriam and your father had seemed to be fighting constantly as of late, and the stressful atmosphere of the household made you feel constantly on edge; it almost felt like there was an impending disaster coming, one that was impossible to prevent. You only hoped that whatever disaster might be on its way would avoid you and Michael.

Right now, Michael was leaning with his forehead resting against the window, a bored look on his face as he skipped through the music playing on his phone. He only had one earbud in, the other draped over his shoulder (presumably so he could eavesdrop on your parents’ ridiculous arguments), dressed casually in light gray sweatpants and a faded Jimi Hendrix shirt.

Fuck, he looked good. He was jostled slightly with each slight motion of the car as it moved forward, the muscles in his arms subtly flexing as he reached up to run his fingers through his soft, tousled blond hair. For a second, your mind was clouded with images of a beach-bound Michael, his tanned, water-speckled torso lean but still toned, swimming trunks clinging to the lowest point of his narrow hips and leaving almost nothing up to the imagination. Your mouth watered.

“You know, if I’d driven, we would’ve actually arrived at the hotel by the time the GPS said,” Miriam said.

“So why didn’t you!?” your father exclaimed.

You locked eyes with Michael yet again, whose pale eyes glimmered with slight amusement at the nonstop back-and-forth between your parents.

“Because you insisted on driving.”

“Insisted? All I did was offer to drive out of the kindness of my— oh fuck, I think we just passed the hotel.”

“We did,” offered Michael flatly from the backseat, the soft glow of the neon hotel sign reflecting in his pupils as he craned his neck to follow the building.

“Goddamn it,” your father muttered, scanning the road for somewhere to make a U-turn.

“Nice going,” Miriam muttered under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

You were jerked forward as your father abruptly turned the car around in an act that you were ninety-nine percent sure was illegal; in a matter of seconds, the car was parked in the hotel parking lot, officially marking the end of the several-hour-long trek. Everyone seemed to let out a unanimous sigh of relief.

“Fucking finally,” said Michael, opening the door and swinging his legs outside so his ratty Converse sneakers made contact with the asphalt. You followed suit, making your way around to the trunk, which you popped open to retrieve your colorful travel bag.

The sound of crickets chirping through the mild Florida night was soothing despite its incessantness, and you found yourself smiling idly, a warm breeze gently caressing your face. So maybe you weren’t in the goddamn Dominican Republic, but you were still prepared to enjoy your time here.

Once everyone had taken their respective belongings from the trunk, your father led the way to the front entrance of the hotel.

The hotel lobby was nice, but certainly nothing special; it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the sole reason your father had chosen this place above all others was because it was the cheapest. Your father, weighed down with his overstuffed black bag, trudged over to the front desk with a pained look on his face.

“Imagine this place is infested with roaches,” said Michael lowly, flashing you a shit-eating grin when your face paled at this terrifying prospect.

“Shut up. My dad isn’t that much of a cheapskate.”

“Or what if it’s haunted?” he said, furrowing his brows to mimic a deadly serious expression.

“It’ll be haunted by your ghost in about five seconds if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“I saw this thing online about a girl who went missing, and then they found her in the water tower of the hotel,” he continued, and you rolled your eyes. It wasn’t at all surprising that he was trying to scare you. “And like, all the people staying there were showering and stuff, but little did they know they were washing themselves in dead body water.”

“Can you shut up, please?”

His plump lips contorted into a devious smile. “What, am I scaring you?”

“No, you’re just being really fucking annoying.”

“Aww, don’t worry, (y/n). I’ll protect you from any ghosts or cockroaches that might be here.” He pulled you into a side hug, squeezing you against him with an iron grip as he nuzzled the top of your head with his chin. You pulled away, exerting minimal strength but still managing to evade his grasp.

“Are you going to be this obnoxious the entire trip?” you said, watching as your father appeared to be looking for something in his pockets. After patting himself down for several seconds, he said something to the man behind the front desk; whatever it was that he’d said resulted in Miriam’s face contorting into a look that could easily kill anyone three times over.

“Here we go,” Michael whispered, mouth twitching at the corners as he averted his attention away from you and onto your parents instead.

“You’re an idiot,” Miriam was saying, practically seething as she spoke. “A goddamn idiot. How the hell did you manage to forget the credit card?!”

Your father’s mouth opened and closed as he attempted to come up with a response good enough to satiate his fuming wife, but of course there was none.

“How did he forget the credit card?” Michael said.

You shrugged.

Miriam huffed loudly as she began to dig through her purse, shooting your father a contemptuous glare when her hand emerged, leather wallet in tow. You watched as she pulled out her credit card, handing it over the front desk to the visibly uncomfortable man standing there.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the muscles in your arms starting to burn from the weight of your travel bag.

Michael, having apparently lost interest in your parents’ altercation, suddenly turned back to face you. “You think I’ll be able to pass for over 21 at the hotel bar?”

Before you could respond, your father was making his way over to you, brandishing two key cards in either hand. “We decided it’d be best for all of us if you and Michael had your own room. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

He handed you a card, and as you looked it over, you tried your hardest not to pay any attention to Michael.

It was truly astounding how clueless everyone seemed to be in regards to your relationship (if you could call it that) with your stepbrother, but you definitely weren’t complaining. Just the thought of having a room all to yourselves was enough to make your heart race.

“Of course we don’t mind,” you said with a smile.

“Just— y’know. Miriam and I have some things we need to work out, and, well, I don’t want you guys swept up in any of the drama,” said your father.

“Totally understandable, dad,” said Michael, beaming as he snaked his free arm around your shoulders. “I’m sure we’ll be able to manage. What do you think, (y/n)?”

Michael widened his eyes at you, the contorted features of his porcelain face dripping with faux-innocence.

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, tone cheerful and sweet.

In unison, you and Michael looked away from one another and back to your father. His eyes were shadowed with deep rings, and he looked more like he was about to head off to a 9-to-5 shift at a dead-end job rather than a vacation with his family. “You kids be good, all right?”

“Don’t worry,” you said, ripples of electricity making their way up your spine as Michael lightly stroked your shoulder with his calloused fingertips. “We will.”

ii.

“Room number 69, huh?” Michael said with a quirk of his eyebrow, licking his lips as he plucked the key card from your hand and slid it into its designated slot by the door. “It’s like they knew we were gonna be staying here.”

“You are eighteen years old,” you said in a monotone, though secretly Michael’s immature sense of humor and silliness were qualities that never failed in making your heart swell.

There was a subtle beep as the light next to the slot flickered green, and Michael pushed open the door with one shoulder, the other occupied with his bag. “How fucking awesome is this?”

You followed him into the modestly-sized room, discarding your bag at the end of one of the two pristinely made beds. Michael did the same, and without even giving you time to settle into your new surroundings, he pushed you firmly up against the nearest empty wall.

Even despite the fact that he’d been sitting in a hot car for several hours (unsurprisingly, your father was very stingy with the air conditioning), Michael still managed to smell good; the intoxicating mixture of his shampoo, paired alongside his boyish deodorant and woodsy cologne, was dizzying from such a close proximity.

“You didn’t waste any time,” you chuckled, cheeks flushing as he began to pepper kisses along your neck and behind your ear, lifting one hand to brush your hair over your shoulder.

“Why would I?” he said, his voice low and seductive. He took a moment to playfully nip at your earlobe, and you squealed, wrapping your arms around him so you could pull his firm torso closer to yours. “What else are you supposed to do when you’re left all alone with such a pretty girl?”

As much as you weren’t willing to admit it, your heart soared at this validation- Michael thought you were a pretty girl. Those words, coming from that perfect mouth, made you feel a childish sense of giddiness, gave you butterflies in the pit of your stomach like an innocent playground crush.

Michael wandered one hand up over the curve of your hip and onto your waist, lips still moving open-mouthed against your jugular and around to the front of your throat. Reaching up to the back of Michael’s head, you took a fistful of butterscotch-colored hair at the root, using it to guide him back towards your face. Then you kissed him, hard and passionate, your fingers threading easily through his waves as his tongue slipped past yours and into your mouth.

Ding!

You assumed Michael’s phone had just gone off, but neither of you paid it any mind, your breath hitching as Michael slid one veined hand up under your tank top to grope your left breast.

Ding!

“My pretty baby sis,” Michael breathed, swollen mouth slick with saliva. Panting softly, he continued to ignore his phone, tugging his t-shirt over his head and tossing it behind him haphazardly.

With his upper body exposed to you now, you took the opportunity to trace your fingers down the length of his subtly defined abs, stopping just beneath his navel. Just below that, after the cute trail of fuzzy blond hair that paved the way to his v-line, was the low-hanging waistband of his gray sweatpants; you hooked your fingers there, just barely pulling the fabric down as you eyed the mouthwatering bulge prominent in the front of his pants.

You couldn’t help yourself- biting your lower lip, you brought your hand between Michael’s legs and grasped his semi-erect length through the soft material of his pants.

Ding! Ding!

Michael hissed, but he seemed to be somewhat distracted now; you knit your eyebrows as he twisted around to face the source of the interruption- his phone, which he’d left on one of the beds.

Ding!

“What is that?” you asked, frowning. It wasn’t often that Michael tolerated anything getting in the way of his hookups, so you found it mildly concerning when he broke away from you entirely to go and grab his phone.

His tongue poked out of the corner of his lips as he looked at his screen, and you could tell that he was stifling a smirk. “Oh. Uh, it’s nothing.”

You moved from your place against the wall, approaching Michael with your arms crossed in front of your chest. Sure, maybe it was none of your business, seeing that you weren’t Michael’s girlfriend or anything, but he’d piqued your curiosity.

Ding! Ding! Michael fumbled with the phone for a second before turning it on silent.

You cocked your head to one side. “No really, what is that?”

Michael had hidden his phone behind his back now, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet.

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

Okay, now you had to know.

“C’mon, lemme see,” you said, trying your hardest not to sound upset. Why were you upset, anyway? You reached around Michael to take his phone from his hand, which, surprisingly, he allowed you to do without much protest.

You looked down at his phone, jaw dropping as you began reading over the several notifications stretching down the length of his screen.

NEW MATCH! With Sofi

NEW MATCH! With Katherine

NEW MATCH! With Kristen

NEW MATCH! With Mallory

NEW MATCH! With Caitlin

NEW MATCH! With Anna

Your eyes flickered up to Michael’s face, down to the phone screen, and then back again, unsure of how exactly you were supposed to react to such a discovery. Michael just offered you a sheepish shrug, somehow only pissing you off further, and angrily you shoved his phone back into his hands.

“Are you fucking kidding? We’ve been here for less than an hour and you’re already trying to find hoes on Tinder?”

“Well, I mean, that’s one way to put it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to see what kind of girls live around here, I swear. I wasn’t actually gonna-“

“-Whatever,” you mumbled, bending over to unzip your travel bag. It wasn’t like you had any sort of right to be pissed- Michael could do what he wanted, and if what he wanted was to hook up with random Tinder girls, then so be it. Still, though, you couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You rifled around in your bag until you came upon the neat ziploc bag full of travel-sized shower essentials, which you tucked under your arm. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I feel gross.”

“Wait, (y/n). Are you mad at me?” You weren’t sure if he actually cared about hurting your feelings, or if he was worried that you wouldn’t want to fuck him anymore; either way, you didn’t think right now was the best of times to be honest about your feelings.

“Why would I be mad at you?” Your voice sounded dangerously close to breaking, and you knew it (and so did Michael, most likely).

“Well… I dunno. You seemed pretty pissed just now.”

“No, no. Do whatever you want. Fuck as many Tinder girls as your heart desires. It’s not like we’re exclusive.” You continued to search through your bag, pulling out your pajamas and hair towel and tucking them alongside your shower supplies.

“Someone sounds bitter,” Michael mused, causing you to narrow your eyes at him in a focused, pointed glare.

“I thought it was sort of established already that this-“ he motioned at himself, and then to you- “isn’t gonna go anywhere. So I don’t really see the harm in looking around.”

Instantly, you felt a lump form in the back of your throat.

He was right. You’d even said it yourself, that nothing good would ever become of this thing you had with Michael; as much as you wanted it to, it was impossible. So why did it hurt so bad to hear it coming from him?

“Which is why I’m not mad,” you said, swallowing thickly. “Do what you want. I don’t care.”

But, like the cliché you were, you did care. Thinking of Michael with anyone else made you feel sick to your stomach. But what were you supposed to do about it? You were his stepsister.

God, if only things had been different. If only the universe hadn’t brought you together in the most inconvenient and unconventional of ways.

You turned on your heels, leaving Michael behind as you made your way to the bathroom without another word.

Once you’d started the shower and adjusted the temperature, you stripped down, catching a glimpse in the mirror of the many marks adorning your body that Michael had left behind at some point or another- hickeys (some bright lilac and navy blue, while others were fading shades of yellow and pink, all speckled down your chest and over your breasts), fingerprint-shaped bruises, shallow scratches.

And those were just the physical ways that Michael had marked you; you were sure that if you turned yourself inside out, there would be thousands more markings to be found.  

You thought maybe this was exactly what you needed right now: a long, hot shower to clear your head. Maybe, if the mood struck, you’d even cry a little bit, just to get your emotions in order.

You stepped into the shower, flinching at the intensity of the stream as it cascaded relentlessly over your body. Shutting your eyes, you ran your palms over your face, skin prickling at the pleasant warmth of the water. After you’d allowed your hair to get sufficiently soaked, you reached for your travel-sized bottle of shampoo, squirting some of the coconut-scented gel into your hand and working up a lather.

You were halfway through your usual hair-washing routine when you heard the bathroom door open; you opened one eye, hardly wider than a squint, to see a tall, blond-haired figure through the steamy glass shower door entering the bathroom. Though the thick layer of steam on the door heavily obscured the intruder, you were still able to see that whoever had entered was butt fucking naked.

Fucking Michael.

There was a metallic squeak as the shower door slid open, revealing an image to you that must’ve been hand-delivered by an angel. There, in all his naked glory, stood Michael, one hand positioned by his side and the other gripping his impressively hard cock.

It was a miracle you didn’t slip and crack your skull open right then.

“Hey,” said Michael coolly, a smug smirk appearing on his lips when he noticed you staring at his length.

“Michael, what are you doing?” you asked, attempting to sound just a little less eager than you were feeling. You tilted your head back, quickly washing away the excess shampoo in your hair, and as you did this, Michael joined you in the shower.

“Saving water,” Michael replied, pulling the door shut and enclosing the two of you within the stream.

“How environmentally friendly of you.”

“Aww, are you still mad at me?” You tensed as he grabbed your hips and brought you closer to him, the head of his cock brushing your stomach and sending chills throughout your body.

“I was never mad at you,” you said flatly. You kept rinsing your hair, refusing to give Michael the attention he clearly was so desperately seeking (not yet, at least).

“You were a little jealous though, weren’t you?” he teased, squeezing your tits without warning and making you jump. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve already told you before that your pussy is my favorite.”

“I was never worried,” you snapped, but you couldn’t deny the arousal that immediately resulted from Michael’s words.

“Whatever you say, baby,” said Michael, spinning you around so that your back was pressed against his bare chest. You shivered at the feeling of his big cock on your ass, and all at once, whatever snarky comeback you’d been formulating disintegrated into nothingness.

Your eyes fell shut as Michael’s hands traveled over your body, his touch gentle but still possessive; he stopped at your tits, kneading the smooth peaks in both hands until they stung, kissing your shoulder when you squirmed at the slight discomfort. “Just relax and let your big brother take care of you.”

He retrieved your body wash off the ledge in the shower, gathering some in his palms and returning his attention to your tits. You leaned back, resting the back of your head on his broad shoulder as he began rubbing the body wash all over you (mainly focusing on your breasts, because what else would you expect from Michael Langdon?).

His slippery hands felt like heaven on your tits, pinching and toying with your nipples just the way you liked. It wasn’t until his hand began dipping lower, though, that your breath caught in your throat.

His fingers trailed past your stomach and down to cup your cunt, goosebumps erupting across your skin as he hummed in your ear. Your entire body reacted to his touch, muscles tightening and thighs trembling, hips rolling back so you could better feel his deliciously thick cock against your back.

“You like that? Like how I touch you?” he murmured, his words reverberating against your throat and igniting a fresh wave of arousal between your legs.

With one hand, he used his fingers to splay apart your outer lips, gathering some of your wetness by stroking up and down your slit while his other hand worked at your tits. A familiar heat began to spread from behind your navel, and paired with the near-scalding warmth and great pressure of the shower stream, you felt your head start to spin.

You laid your head back on Michael’s shoulder, trusting him to keep you balanced as you reclined limply against him. His fingers moved upwards again, using the sticky arousal on the tips of his fingers to massage slow, lazy circles over your aching bud; you let out a gravelly moan just as Michael administered a sharp pinch to your hardened nipple.

“Fuck, Michael… feels so good.”

You were well past the point of preserving your pride, bucking your hips against Michael’s hand while trying to squeeze your thighs shut around it, keeping him close to you.

“Hm? Is that right? You like when I touch your pussy?” His voice was husky, rich and warm like a roll of tropical thunder; swallowing noisily, you bobbed your head up and down in agreement.

Garnering what little energy you had left, you extended your arm behind you, spreading your fingers in search of Michael’s erection; tongue darting out to wet your chapped lips at the feeling of his stiff, smooth skin, you followed the slightly jutting vein that wound up the side of his length, stopping at the head of his cock and running your thumb over his leaking slit.

He groaned at the sensation, encouraging you on. You returned your hand to the base of his cock, grazing your fingers along his sensitive balls before taking a firm hold of his shaft, pumping your fist up and down his length with as much vigor as you could manage.

“Fuck,” he grunted, and although he now had the added task of awaiting his own impending orgasm alongside bringing you to yours, his fingers did not falter between your legs. Every throaty groan passing his lips seemed to drive his fingers into more of a frenzy, forming fast, sloppy shapes on your aching bud until you were crying out.

“That’s a good- fuck- girl. Keep jerking your big brother’s cock, just like that. Feels so fucking good,” he breathed against your skin, making you shiver even despite the heavy, humid warmth of the bathroom. You could no longer see anything through the glass door, which had become entirely overtaken with thick fog; for a moment you felt like this was the only place on earth that existed- a closed-off world of steam and water and porcelain made just for you and Michael.

With your eyes shut tight as the coil in your belly prepared to snap, all you could do was listen to the melodic blend of sounds enveloping the small space and attempt to move your body in time with the makeshift rhythm. Not one sound fell upon deaf ears- you were hyper-aware of every vulgar, human noise; every breath and every moan; every squeak of wet feet on the slick white floor.

This might be the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard, you thought.

“Fuck, Michael— more.” Stretching your other arm back to desperately grab at Michael’s damp mop of waves, you allowed yourself to come undone, arching your back so your erect nipples were pointed up towards the ceiling.

Michael brought his free hand away from your breasts, instead using it to brace himself against the shower door, creating a hand-shaped imprint in the steam that immediately began to drip with condensation.

Without thinking, you let go of Michael’s hair to join his hand on the glass; lacing your fingers through his, you worked at his cock with your opposite hand until his breaths grew ragged and choppy- a sure-fire sign that he was about to cum.

“Fuck, (y/n), keep going,” he moaned breathlessly, pressing his thumb harshly against your clit and nearly causing your knees to buckle underneath you. “Gonna- fuck.”

His cock twitched in your hand, and with that, he was cumming, shooting his thick load all over your ass and lower back. Miraculously, even as he recovered from his orgasm, he still continued to touch you; his fingers were like magic on your clit, and within a matter of seconds, you, too, were being sent over the edge.

“Oh god, Michael—“

Even during an earth-shattering orgasm like the one you were experiencing, you still were able to notice the way that Michael had switched spots on the glass with you, his large hand enclosing around yours and squeezing.

He didn’t remove his hand from between your thighs until you were twitching and overstimulated, and once he did, he pulled you into a hug, his strong arms cradling you against his chest.

Your eyes fluttered open and shut again, like a person caught between life and death, when he planted a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m never gonna find anyone else like you,” he said, hardly louder than a whisper. You weren’t sure whether it was a reassurance to you, or a solemn statement of distress.

Either way, you swore you could hear something like sadness behind his words.

iii.

Since Miriam and your father were too preoccupied with their arguing to arrange any family excursions, you and Michael were left to your own devices.

Those next few days in Florida, your life was about as close to a teen romance movie as it could get. You and Michael spent the days exploring the nearby towns, trying out restaurants (it’d taken a startlingly long while for you to convince Michael to try out one of the local cafés for breakfast instead of McDonald’s, which had been his original idea) and going shopping; on one occasion, you shared a joint with Michael before dragging him to the local aquarium, which he’d pretended to be entirely disinterested in (even though you could see the wonder and fear in his eyes whilst staring at the shark exhibit- what would happen if the glass broke? he’d asked, nervously drumming his fingers on the paneling as a particularly large shark swam by).

You shared ice cream with him on the boardwalk, licking the chocolate soft serve that had melted off the cone and onto Michael’s hand off his fingers; you rubbed sunscreen on each other at the beach (although Michael wasn’t nearly as thorough as you were, and most of the time you’d wind up with a nasty sunburn thanks to his negligence); you bought 99-cent popsicles from a vendor, making out with cherry-stained lips while the sun went down.

At night, you’d sit on the beach, sometimes stoned, talking and laughing as the waves rolled in and out on the shore.

It was 3 am on your last night in Florida, and you and Michael had snuck out of the hotel room and walked down to the beach, large checkered blanket and a bottle of red wine in tow (Michael had charmed the woman behind the counter in a sketchy liquor store in order to obtain this). You were sitting side-by-side, thoughts clouded from the effects of the alcohol with your knees drawn to your chest, when a sudden realization washed upon you like one of the rumbling waves breaking against the shore.

You were in love with Michael Langdon.

This was an unwavering, undeniable fact; you were in love with him. You loved him, even the parts of him that, at one point, you had hated. The realization was both peaceful and upsetting.

“Michael,” you said, huddling closer to yourself as a cool breeze cut through the night. What were you going to say to him? You couldn’t very well tell him about the epiphany you’d just had- he’d been on Tinder just a few days ago, for god’s sake. But, still, you felt compelled to say something.

“Hmm?” He stretched out his legs, running his palms up and down his sand-covered calves. In the darkness, you could hardly make out the features of his face, save for the sparkling reflection in his eyes as he looked out towards the ocean.

You licked your lips, taking a swig from the half-empty bottle of wine that had been positioned upright in the sand. You winced at the bittersweet taste washing over your tongue, the blood-colored liquid sloshing noisily against its glass confines as you brought it back down to your side.

“I don’t know,” you said, suddenly feeling stupid. “It’s just- I don’t want this all to be over.”

“Me either,” he said, putting his arm around you and drawing you closer to him. You inhaled sharply, breathing in the scent of wine and stale cigarettes and salt water like it was oxygen and you’d just been saved from drowning. “I didn’t think I would, but I had a really great time this week.”

You shook your head. “I’m not just talking about this week. I just mean in general. I feel like it’s all ending so soon.”

“Oh.” He took in a breath, an especially large wave hitting the shore with a startling crash. “God, this fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Michael, I-“ I love you. The remaining words settled on the back of your tongue, refusing to roll off, but perhaps it was for the better. “-I think in another life, we could’ve worked out. Could’ve been something more than what we are. You know?”

If only, if only, if fucking only.

“Lucky us, being born in the universe where we’re fucking step siblings,” Michael laughed, but there was a deep sadness in his voice that you’d never heard before. “But, (y/n). Even though shit isn’t working out the way we wanted it to, and even though it’s gonna hurt when we both go away to college, I’m still so glad that I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you, too.”

There was only silence for a long moment as Michael reached for the wine bottle and took an indulgent sip. “There’s so much shit I wish could’ve been different,” he said finally, angling his head up towards the velvet blackness of the night sky. “I wish I’d treated you differently. I wish I hadn’t been so fucking scared of feeling something.”

You ran your fingers through the soft sand, forming meaningless patterns there as you listened to Michael open up for what felt like the first time since you’d met him.

“I used to lie awake at night and think of how fucking unfair this all is. That the one girl I’ve ever really wanted is the one girl I can’t have. I used to think if maybe I pushed you away, treated you like shit, that everything would hurt less. But it just hurt me more, seeing you in pain from the shit I put you through. And now I realize that it’s all gonna hurt the same either way. ‘Cause I’ll never have you the way I want.”

You felt a well-known pinching behind your eyes, and you blinked, silently willing away the tears that were threatening to escape. You kept your eyes on the drawings you’d made in the ground, knowing that if you were to look into Michael’s eyes, you’d probably break.

“What’s gonna happen to us, Michael? We can’t just wait for each other while we’re away at college and miss out on life. But god, I wanna be with you,” you said, voice quivering.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, shaking his head. “I say we just…live our lives. And if it’s meant to be, it will be. One day.”

You nodded, dragging your fingers through the sand and destroying the mindless spirals and swirls you’d formed. “One day.”

“But enough with all that sad shit,” said Michael, taking your chin in hand and moving it so you were looking at him. “What’s important is that we have each other right now. So let’s make the most of that, hm?”

The look in Michael’s eyes told you right away what he meant by making the most of your time together; your cheeks were hot, prickling from the red wine, fingertips burning to touch something. So you did- you grabbed the front of Michael’s shirt, yanking him towards you and placing a haphazard, open-mouthed kiss on his lips.

The kiss was aggressive and feverish; it didn’t take long for Michael to lay you down on the checkered blanket, his hands wandering your body like it belonged to him (and, in a way, it did).

When Michael broke away to catch his breath, panting, you decided to try something new: with all the strength you could muster, you pushed Michael off of you and promptly rolled on top of him instead, straddling him with your knees on either side of his torso.

In the faint glow of the silvery moonlight, you could see an indistinct smirk playing at his lips; it wasn’t often that you were the one to take control, but it was obvious, from the growing protrusion in the front of his pants, that he liked the change.

You leaned down to reattach your lips to his, hips rocking back and forth over his bulge until the friction sent shock waves up your spine. With you bent forward, Michael was easily able to slide his veined hands up the back of your short skirt, taking two greedy fistfuls of your ass.

Almost frantically, you tore your shirt off over your head, not bothering to worry about where it landed. Now, the only thing separating your breasts from the nighttime air was a thin lace bralette, which Michael took to palming you through.

“Fuck, (y/n),” murmured Michael, rolling one of your hardened nipples between two fingers. “You have seriously got the best tits.”

“Yeah? You think so?” you said, a twinge of playful mocking to your voice; you wrapped your fingers around Michael’s wrists, maneuvering them so that both his hands were fondling your breasts.

“Fuck yeah, I think so,” he said, and you only wished there was just a bit more light so you could properly admire him in his disheveled, lustful state.

“Even better than those girls on Tinder you matched with?” you taunted, grinding your hips down hard against Michael’s erection. “I wonder what they’d think about all the times you’ve been balls deep in your stepsister.”

At this, he tightened his grip on your tits, twisting them almost painfully before hoisting up the thin fabric of your bralette so your nipples were exposed. You helped him in removing the garment, pulling it off and throwing it alongside your shirt, never once ceasing the motion of your hips against his clothed, twitching cock.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” Michael said, running his thumbs over your nipples. “Otherwise I’d take you over my lap and spank your ass raw for being such a little bitch.”

“And you’re lucky you have a big dick,” you shot back, words catching in your throat when he tugged hard on one of your nipples. “Otherwise I never would’ve given your fuckboy ass the time of day.”

This was a lie, of course, but your lighthearted tone of voice was enough to let him know that you were only messing around.

Michael scoffed. “No, I think you’re the one who’s lucky that I have a big dick, considering that you’re a total fucking cock-hungry slut.”

You stifled a laugh. Well, he’s not wrong.

“Is that a complaint?” you said, lips quirking as you scooted your body slightly downward, giving yourself room to pull Michael’s now-fully hard cock out. Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you took the pulsing length in hand, moving your thin panties to the side and repositioning yourself so that the head of Michael’s cock was nestled just barely against your entrance.

Michael shook his head rapidly, a throaty grunt passing his lips. “Obviously- fuck- not.”

It was almost amusing to you, the way you and Michael had gone from having a heartfelt conversation to teasing each other relentlessly, but you supposed that was what you loved about your dynamic anyway. Unable to hold off any longer, you guided Michael’s cock inside you, gliding down easily on his length until he was fully seated inside. Your mouth fell open, and as you began to properly ride him, he brought his hands to grip your hips with a tight, bruising hold.

“Fuck, Michael,” you sighed, tits bouncing as you rolled your hips forward, increasing your momentum. Michael slid one hand from your hip to your inner thigh, pinching the tender skin before bringing his thumb to your clit and rubbing firm circles over it.

A pleasant, salt water-scented breeze passed by as you rode Michael, further disheveling your hair, which you ran your fingers through; the lewd noises of your body connecting with Michael’s were overtaken by the unmistakable sounds of the tide.

“Good girl, riding my cock so fucking good,” Michael breathed, lifting up his free hand so he could push two fingers into your mouth. Your eyelids fluttered at the salt of his skin, lips instinctively wrapping around his calloused digits and sucking.

Swirling your tongue over Michael’s fingers, you continued riding him, swaying your hips in figure-eight motions; the thick girth of his cock stretched your tight walls, and from this angle, you could practically feel him in your stomach.

The pad of Michael’s thumb pressed against your clit again, and as electric pleasure rippled up your spine, it took everything inside you not to cum right then and there. Your pussy was clenching tight around him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go—you didn’t want to be apart from him. Not yet.  

For a second, you could see every contoured feature of Michael’s face illuminated in the pale light of the moon, the exaggerated shadows and highlights coming together to form an image that was almost otherworldly. His eyes were droopy-lidded, so much so that you might’ve thought his eyes were shut if it weren’t for the glint of his pupils; he’d sucked his full lower lip into his mouth, nibbling on the rosy pink flesh as he admired your curved, supple figure on top of him.

I love him, you thought, matter-of-fact, as he pulled his spit-soaked fingers from your mouth and dragged them down between your tits, leaving a shiny trail of saliva in their wake.

I love him, you thought, bowing your body forward to kiss him hungrily, moaning into his mouth as you hurried your pace on his cock.

I love him.

Why the fuck did you have to love him? It wasn’t fair. Your insides churned with jealousy at the thought of all the other teenage girls who were currently experiencing their first love; you thought of the constant Instagram posts of girls in new, happy relationships, the public displays of affection against lockers between classes. Those things, so seemingly insignificant, would never become a part of your reality (or at least not any reality involving Michael).

In another life you’d have Michael over for dinner to meet your father, holding his hand under the table when you’d notice his thigh jiggling anxiously. You’d kiss him freely without the underlying fear, swirling deep in the pit of your belly, that someone might catch you. You’d be his prom date, match your gown to his bow tie and take awkward pictures with him, his strong arms holding you from behind.

In another life, things would be normal. In another life, you and Michael would be happy together.

“(Y/n),” groaned Michael; the sound of his raspy voice calling your name was enough to send you over the edge, bracing your tense body with one hand next to his head as you rode out your orgasm.

You were able to move even faster now, both of his hands holding your ass as you leaned far enough forward that you could bury your head in his neck. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you was almost too much now that you’d orgasmed, but you didn’t stop, eager to witness Michael drift into his own realm of bliss.

“Fuck—“ was all that could leave Michael’s lips before he came, using your ass to hold you in place as he spilled his warm load inside of you. You  didn’t move, keeping your face by his neck so you could listen to him catch his breath.

When you finally picked yourself up, Michael looked down to his shoulder and furrowed his eyebrows. “Were you just crying?”

Fuck. Yes, yes you were. Tears had apparently leaked from the corners of your eyes without you realizing, wetting his neck and the cotton fabric of his t-shirt. You said nothing, pulling off him to retrieve the clothing articles that you’d discarded in the sand earlier.

“Just a little,” you said, embarrassed, shaking the sand off your bralette and putting it on. “Red wine makes me angsty.”

“Oh.” There was a pregnant pause as Michael cleared his throat. “C’mon, (y/n), it’s not so bad.”

There was wavering uncertainty veiled beneath the confidence of his words, and you could tell he was trying to convince himself of this sentiment just as much as he was trying to convince you. Your back was to him as you slipped your shirt over your head, willing yourself not to start crying again.

“(Y/n)?”

His hand was on your back, the tips of his fingers circling lightly over the fabric of your shirt. You turned to face him, slowly. “Yes?”

“I…” He halted for a moment, contemplating something. “I really, really like you. More than I’ve ever liked anyone before.”

“I really, really like you too.” Somewhere, a chorus of crickets were unknowingly performing a custom symphony for your own teen romance movie moment. Michael took your hand in his, lacing his long fingers through yours, and you swallowed.

He looked down at your joined hands, an almost solemn look on his face. “Just. I don’t want you to forget, all right? No matter what happens.”

No matter what happens. You didn’t want to think of what he could mean by that.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, as if to shield your words from the ocean’s prying ears. “I won’t forget.”

And that, you knew, was an irrefutable fact.

iv.

Late August hit you like a truck, coming by so unexpectedly that you thought surely you’d been caught in some kind of time slip. Your college move-in date was a week before Michael’s, and so Michael had spent the days leading up to your departure helping you pack (he’d also, of course, made plenty of time for “breaks” throughout the process, one of which consisted of you being fucked on the floor amidst the vast array of brown moving boxes).

Your bedroom was now a shell of what it’d once been- the comfortable teenage clutter you’d been so accustomed to was now gone, and you’d finally gotten around to throwing out the pictures and stickers you’d had on your wall since freshman year. It was depressing, hollow.

On the morning of your move-in date, your father helped you bring your belongings to the car and load the trunk. The car ride was going to be fairly long, and you were dreading it, especially since Michael wasn’t coming along. He had his own matters to attend to, what with his own move-in date creeping near, and the car would be far too crowded with all your things there anyway.

You were scheduled to leave at 9, and downstairs you could hear your father and Miriam shuffling around as they prepared for the trip. You sat at the edge of your bed, surrounded by the pale purple sheets you’d had for as long as you could remember, idly scraping the toe of your sneaker back and forth along the wooden floor.

You weren’t ready to say goodbye to all of this, but when had you ever been ready for anything life had thrown your way? You hadn’t been ready to fall in love with your stepbrother, and yet that had happened all the same.

From across the hall, Michael’s bedroom door cracked open, and out he came in his flannel sleep pants and plain white t-shirt (which now perfectly complemented the slight summertime hue of bronze to his skin), blond hair in beautiful disarray. Your heart ached- you were going to miss seeing him in the morning, all sleepy and soft, voice pitched lower than usual from sleep.

You recalled all the times you’d passed him as he stood at the counter in the bathroom, brushing his teeth; he’d look at you with a lazy half-smile, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his elbows resting on the edge of the sink. He always looked so handsome even when he wasn’t trying, a quality you almost envied him for.

He noticed you watching him from the corner of your bed as he approached the doorway, waving at you as he balanced his shoulder against the frame.

“‘Morning,” he said, his bleary-eyed gaze meeting yours. He looked tired, dark rings prevalent beneath his crystal blue eyes, and you briefly wondered if he’d gotten much sleep the night before. “You should be grateful that I got up at the ass crack of dawn to say goodbye to you.”

“The ass crack of dawn? Michael, it’s 8:45,” you said, and if you really tried, you could almost pretend that this was a regular conversation between the two of you, and not the very last time you’d be interacting face-to-face until November.

“Yeah, well, 8:45 is the ass crack of dawn to me,” he said, and you stood up, meeting him halfway in the middle of your barren room. He flashed you a grin, but there wasn’t much happiness behind it, and you could see that he was… uncomfortable? Sad? Angry?— you couldn’t quite tell— from the way he’d folded his arms in front of his stomach. “So yeah. I, uh, wanted to say goodbye. And also remind you not to fuck too many frat guys. You could, like, catch something.”

“I’ll try not to, but I can’t promise anything,” you joked, following the sentence with a forced-sounding chuckle. “Bye, Michael.”

You stepped forward, winding your arms around Michael’s waist and placing your head against his chest; you could just barely hear his heart beating, the warmth of his skin touching your cheek even through the fabric of his t-shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of your head, strong arms holding you to him in an unyielding embrace. “So much.”

There were too many things you wanted to say, racing through your mind so quickly that it’d be impossible to articulate them aloud. Instead, you let out a shaky sigh, eyes falling shut as you tried your hardest to immerse yourself completely in Michael’s touch. Sometimes, there didn’t need to be any words for you to understand each other.

“Don’t be sad about this, (y/n). When you’re at college, you’re gonna meet so many guys who are so much better than I am. And you’re gonna wonder why you ever were hung up on a dumbass like me.” His tone was lighthearted, but you knew better than to really believe that he was unbothered. “But I don’t think I’ll ever find someone better than you. I’m so fucking lucky that you gave me as many chances as you did. I didn’t deserve them.”

“You’re wrong,” you said, pulling away so you could look pointedly into Michael’s eyes. God, his eyes were beautiful, and you drank in the moment, knowing this was your last chance to really look into them face-to-face. “I gave you those chances because even though you acted like a total fucking asshole, I still knew there was good in you. I could just… feel it.”

He cocked an eyebrow skepticall y. “No, you gave me all those second chances because I give good head and have a big dick.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, maybe those were contributing factors, but they weren’t the only reasons I stuck around.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, licking his lips and settling his hands on your hips. “For the record, your pussy really is my favorite. Like, I wasn’t just saying that.”

“I’m honored.”

The interaction was cut short by the sound of your father calling you from downstairs, indicating that it was time to leave, and your heart sank deep into your stomach. Standing up on the tips of your toes, you planted a chaste kiss on his lips before hurrying out into the hall, waving over your shoulder as you went.

“Bye, (y/n),” Michael said, not moving from where he stood in your bedroom. He’d dug his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants, shoulders slumped forward as he watched you go. For a moment, you wished you’d hugged him for longer. “See you in November.”

“See you,” you called back, imitating nonchalance to the best of your ability, only averting your gaze when you felt tears wobbling along your waterline, threatening to overflow and spill down your cheeks.

In that last moment before you turned, you could almost swear that he had tears in his eyes, too.

v.

When you finally made your way up those familiar porch steps again, the November air chilling you slightly even despite the thick sweater you wore, you felt like an entirely different person.

Those first few months of college had been a blur; your life was far more interesting than it’d ever been while you were in high school (if you didn’t count the whole ‘fucking your stepbrother’ thing), with a surplus of boys at your disposal at all times. You’d gotten perhaps a bit carried away with the dating and partying and hookups, but you figured you were simply making up for all the experiences you’d missed out on in high school.

Michael was a thought that you trained yourself to keep tucked away. During those first few weeks, you’d spent several nights crying yourself to sleep, the stiff dorm room bed so uninviting compared to the way Michael’s arms had always felt around you. At parties, you’d scan the crowds for boys with blond hair and blue eyes, hoping that one of them could temporarily stand in for Michael during your time away from him. None of them fulfilled the requirements, of course- you’d come to realize early on that nobody was quite as good as Michael Langdon. It took a while for you to stop searching for Michael in every boy you became acquainted with, but with practice, you became rather skilled in the art of forgetting.

You and Michael kept in contact, albeit only sometimes. His messages to you were comprised mainly of memes he’d found on Instagram that he thought you’d appreciate, along with the occasional drunk text late at night (‘Cna you send me a pci of your tits/??? Lmfao’ was one of your favorite messages from him that you’d received thus far). It made you feel special to know that he was thinking of you, even despite being surrounded by girls like you assumed he probably was.

You tried not to think of him too much, though- you knew you’d drive yourself crazy if you did.

When Thanksgiving time rolled around, you were confronted with the fact that you’d be seeing Michael again for the first time in months, a prospect that ignited your nerves far more than you were willing to admit. As excited as you were to see him, you also couldn’t help but worry: what if he announced that he’d found a girlfriend? What if he wasn’t attracted to you anymore? What if you weren’t attracted to him anymore?

It probably would be easier for the both of you if things played out that way, but you didn’t want things to be easy. It was unrealistic, but part of you was praying that things would be exactly as they were before you’d gone away.

Your hand trembled a bit as you raised it to the doorbell, and you braced yourself before jamming your finger into the button. From inside the house, you heard the muffled, off-key tone as it resounded throughout the upstairs area, followed by bounding footsteps down the stairs that you pinpointed as belonging to your father.

The front swung open and there was your father, a wide smile stretched across his face as he ushered you inside, taking it upon himself to bring in your travel bag for you. “(Y/n)! Finally! How was the train ride?”

“Not bad,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. As soon as you were apart, you started up the stairs, your pulse quickening as you came closer and closer to the moment you’d been anticipating for months. “Did Michael get back already?”

“Yeah, about an hour ago.”

Your heart skipped at this revelation; your legs couldn’t bring you to the top of the stairs fast enough, and, sensing your heightened enthusiasm, your father chuckled from behind you. “Hey, hold on a second. I haven’t seen you in months.”

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” you said breathlessly, the rubber soles of your sneakers making noisy contact with the wooden upstairs floor. You supposed that maybe you should’ve spent more time greeting your father, but you could no longer contain yourself- you needed to see Michael.

Leaving your bag at the top of the stairs, you hurried to the hallway where your bedrooms were located, unable to stifle your eagerness. You felt like a starved animal, finally being presented with food by a pair of benevolent hands, and you were ready to devour.

You didn’t bother knocking on Michael’s door when you approached it, bursting in with such force that you stumbled over your feet. The room was dim, what with the blinds being open so only a few rays of late-afternoon sunlight could peek through; seated in front of his once-cluttered empty desk, now occupied only by a laptop, was Michael, massive headphones positioned over his ears as he fixated on whatever stupid game he was currently playing (does he still play fortnite? you wondered).

The sound of your intrusion was loud enough to catch his attention, and as his head turned from his computer screen to your face, something shifted in his eyes. Immediately, he tore off his headphones, jumping to his feet so abruptly that they clattered to the ground. “Holy fuck, (y/n).”

It was evident, from the way you fell easily into his arms, that the attraction hadn’t faded. If anything, the distance apart seemed to have only made the magnetic connection between you grow even stronger.

Your lips clashed together feverishly (you had no idea who had been the one to initiate this— it seemed that you’d both moved in perfect unison into one another), hands wandering freely over each other’s bodies and teeth bumping against teeth. When you broke away, a string of saliva stretching and breaking between your faces, Michael beamed down at you.

The slight layer of baby fat that had once rounded out Michael’s cheeks appeared to have dissipated, his cheekbones even more pronounced than you remembered them being. His sharp jaw was shadowed with the smallest touch of brown stubble, (which you assumed was there because he’d been too lazy to shave), but you thought the more mature look suited him well.

“Jesus, (y/n), I missed you.” His voice was like smooth velvet; you’d inject it into your bloodstream if you could. “You’re even more fucking beautiful than I remembered.”

“Oh, good. I was worried you’d be grossed out by my freshman fifteen,”  you laughed.

“Fuck no. The fatter the ass, the better,” he said with a devious smirk, running his long fingers through his overgrown mop of blond hair. He smelled just like you remembered, a mixture of cinnamon gum and cigarettes and cologne (and the faintest hint of marijuana, of course), and you wished you could bottle up his scent and take it with you.

“So you’re still a fuckboy, I see,” you teased, twisting the front of Michael’s t-shirt in your hands and pulling him towards you. “Some things just never change, I guess.”

“Guess not.” He was speaking lowly now, assuming the smooth tone he always used when he was attempting to seduce you, and as if on cue came a dull, throbbing ache between your legs. “I wonder if your pussy is as good as I remember?”

His fingers found their way to the bottom of your sweater, fumbling with the chunky fabric and swiftly maneuvering it off over your head. You mirrored his actions, pulling off his shirt and exposing his torso, pressing your lips back against his with urgency once his upper half had been disrobed.

“Fuck…” you breathed against his parted mouth, palming the growing erection in the front of his pale gray sweatpants (your favorite pair of pants that he owned). “Need you to fuck me, Mikey…”

“Is that right?” He tilted his head to one side, kissing you deeply as he bent his knees, using his own weight as leverage to lift you up. You intertwined your ankles behind Michael’s back, securing your place in his toned arms as he carried you over to his bed; the vulgar, wet sound of your tongues melding together filled the room as he laid you down on his checkered comforter, your legs still wrapped snugly around him. “Did my baby sis miss having her pussy split on her big bro’s cock?”

“Mhm,” you purred; there truly was no man in existence better at dirty talking than Michael. You tensed in excitement when he began fumbling with the top button of your jeans, proceeding to deftly work the form-fitting denim material down your thighs once he’d freed it from its hold. “Can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Impatiently, you reached between your bodies, your fingers coming upon the thick outline of his bulge as he peppered your throat with sloppy kisses. You moved your hand up to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging the elastic as far back as you could; this resulted in him chuckling against your flesh, your body erupting in goosebumps at the sensation.

“So needy,” he mumbled, the vibrations of his plump lips traveling straight down to your cunt. “Did you touch yourself when you were away at school, thinking of me? Thinking of how good I touch you, how hard I make you cum?”

“M-Michael,” you whimpered, rolling your hips in melodic time with his, his clothed cock making friction against your thinly veiled pussy. “C’mon, just fuck me already. Please.”

“I like it when you beg,” he said, smug, standing so he could pull down his sweatpants and boxers, putting his long, weighted cock on display for you. You lifted your knees up for him, and in one swift motion he stripped you of your flimsy black thong. “Beg me again.”

You squirmed, sliding your flat palm down your stomach so you could touch yourself between your parted thighs; slowly, you coated your fingers with your own sticky essence, looking up at Michael from under a canopy of thick lashes. “Fuck me, Michael. I need you.”

“Ask nicely,” he chided, hoisting your thigh up to drape around his waist, eyes darkening as he observed your fingers spreading your slick wetness around your folds.

“Pleeaaaaseeee, Mikey,” you pleaded, syllables so drawn out that it almost sounded like you were singing. “It’s been so long.”

“Fuck.” He brought his lower lip into his mouth, sucking for a moment as he lined the flushed head of his cock up with your dripping entrance. When he released it, it was several shades darker than it’d been before, completely swollen and glossy with spit. “I’ve been thinking about this since the last time I saw you.”

Taking a firm grip of your thighs, he slid effortlessly into your tight heat, your jaw unhinging at the intrusion; you’d definitely be feeling him for the next few days, his thick shaft stretching out your narrow walls to the point where it was almost painful. You liked it, though, liked the delicious burn that only he could create, reminding you of who you belonged to.

“Shit,” he hissed, pausing momentarily to compose himself before assuming a deep, hard rhythm to fuck you with. “You’re so fucking tight. Must not’ve fucked anyone as big as me while you were away.”

All you could manage was a broken moan, your head lolling back towards the ceiling. He bottomed out inside you, bringing himself down to press his chest against yours, indulging in the feel of your warm, wet cunt as it spasmed around his massive length. When you started whining for more, he retracted his hips back until only the head of his cock was inside you, slamming back inside so hard that you were sent halfway up the bed.

“Oh god, Michael…” Your fingernails scraped aimlessly along the warm skin of his back, eyelids flickering open and shut in a fucked-out daze. You’d slept with a handful of guys at college, but none of them even came close to fucking you the way Michael did. He was just… special.

Fuck, I love him.

The thought startled you; you’d almost been able to forget about the little epiphany you’d had, that night in Florida when you and Michael sat side-by-side by the ocean. But now that you were with him— under him, taking every last agonizing inch of his cock, it became obvious that those feelings had remained stagnant.

After all the boys you’d been through at college, you still loved him.

God, were you fucked.

“Missed my baby girl so much,” Michael murmured, tucking your hair behind your ear and peering down at you. His forehead was glowing, the sides of his face framed with cute, damp curls of blond hair; he was so beautiful, you thought. How had you survived so long without him?

He impaled you again with a sharp upwards thrust, a string of expletives passing your lips and mixing with the lewd sounds of sex swimming through the air.  “I missed you— fuck!— too.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” he said, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and running his tongue along the salty skin. “Your pussy is fucking dripping for me.”

“Keep going,” you panted, wetting your chapped lips; with each brutal thrust of Michael’s cock, you bucked your hips forward to meet him halfway, desperate for all that he had to offer. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah? You like that? Like how I split you open?” His hips pounded against yours with a bruising intensity, his chest pinning you down as you writhed beneath his lean frame. His voice was becoming hoarse, breaths short and choppy, letting you know that he was close.

“Yes, yes, yes, please, more…” Your affirmations were like a prayer, encouraging Michael to fuck you even deeper, his torso making electric contact with your clit as he moved his body in time with yours. “Make me cum, Mikey, please..”

The wind was knocked from your lungs each time he pumped his length into you, and by the time the coil in your stomach was unwinding, you were struggling to catch your breath. You ran your hands through Michael’s sweat-soaked hair, letting the strands stretch around your fingers as you tugged at the root; Your toes curled when Michael administered a particularly hard thrust inside you, your lips falling open in a silent scream; there was a burst of brilliant colors behind your eyelids as you finally reached your climax, your thighs shaking as they clasped firmly around Michael’s waist.

Like a perfect teen-movie cliché, Michael came just as you did; the feeling of his hot load as it spilled deep inside your cunt was a welcomed one, and your spongey inner walls instinctively clamped down, milking his cock for all it was worth.

With a throaty grunt, Michael pulled out of you, his cum dribbling crudely down your inner thigh and onto his bedspread, which he didn’t appear to pay any attention to. Lying down beside you, he sighed, bare chest shining with slick perspiration.

“I missed doing that,” Michael rasped, eyes focused up towards the ceiling rather than on you.

“So did I,” you said, tracing idle patterns along the expanse of Michael’s torso, watching his stomach rise and fall with each breath he took. “I can’t wait to have you all Christmas break.”

Michael’s lips turned downwards at the corners, his eyebrows knitting together in a pained display. “Oh. Yeah.”

It seemed as though he’d wanted to say more, but he pressed his lips shut into a thin line, Adam’s apple bobbing. What the hell? All at once you felt nauseous- there was something about the way he’d said those two words that made you very, very uneasy.

You sat up, your mind already starting to overflow with horrid possibilities. “What, Michael?”

“I, um. I have to tell you something.” Michael’s eyes darted throughout the room before settling on his palms. You frowned, mouth going dry at his apparent reluctance to talk to you, thoughts racing in all directions to try and pinpoint what exactly he might say.

“Michael…”

“So. Um.” He was stalling, extending his arms up so his palms were flat on his forehead, still refusing to look at you as he contemplated his words. “So you remember over the summer when I spilled Red Bull on my laptop?”

You raised an eyebrow. Where exactly was he going with this? “Yeah?”

“And remember how I would borrow my mom’s laptop to play video games while I was waiting for it to get repaired?”

“Yes, I remember. Can you just get to the point?” You were growing impatient, the anxiety increasing with each additional second that Michael continued to leave you in the dark.

“Okay, well…” He inhaled sharply. “I was borrowing her laptop one night and ended up looking at the search history because, well… you can probably guess why. Anyway. I ended up seeing all these searches for, like, new apartments and divorce lawyers.”

Oh shit. Divorce lawyers? Was he about to say what you were thinking he was about to say? “You mean…?”

Michael held up a hand as if to say let me finish, and you held your tongue. “So like, I asked her about it. And she told me that her and your dad are, like, splitting up or whatever. But she told me not to mention anything about it in case they ended up working shit out.”

You didn’t understand— wasn’t this good news? If your parents divorced, wouldn’t you finally be able to be with Michael the way you wanted? You forced down the giddiness that started to bubble up from your stomach and into your throat, knowing that there had to be a catch if Michael was acting so serious.

“So our parents are getting a divorce?”

“Well… there’s more.” He licked his lips, finally gathering the courage to look at you, the expression on his face so grim that it scared you a little. “She found an apartment in California. And she’s moving us there next month.”

California!?

No, this couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening? This was perhaps even worse than the predicament you were already in. If Michael moved to California, it was pretty fucking likely that you’d never see him again.

“I… what? And you’ve known all this for how long!?” Your voice was pitched several octaves higher now, eyes watering uncontrollably, and you felt as though you were on the brink of having a total fucking meltdown.

“I always thought there was a chance they’d get things worked out, or that my mom would change her mind about moving so far away. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I already knew you were sad about us going away to college, so I just thought-”

“-Answer the question, Michael! How long have you known this for?” Hot, angry tears were falling down your face and onto your bare chest, your entire body shaking with an overwhelming mixture of rage and despair.

He sighed. “Since August.”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief. How could he have hidden this from you for so long? “And you never thought to tell me? So I could at least come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably never see you again once you move?”

“I didn’t wanna ruin the rest of our time together,” he said softly, eyes glossy with tears that were still yet to fall. “I fucked up, okay? I should’ve told you as soon as I found out. But I kept thinking that maybe something would change, and…I don’t know. I’m sorry, (y/n).”

“Fuck,” you mumbled. Your limbs felt numb and heavy, your heart hollow. “Why did your mom have to choose fucking California, of all places?”

“I dunno. I think it has to do with this weird religion thing she’s into,” he said. “Look, (y/n), if I had any choice, I’d stay here. But you know I can’t afford my own place right now.”

“I know. It’s just-“ you collapsed backwards, your back making contact with the bed below with a soft thud. “This is so fucking unfair. We’re finally able to be together- like, really be together. But of course there has to be a catch.”

“Remember what I said, (y/n)? How if things are meant to be, they will be?” It sounded to you like Michael was attempting to make sense of a senseless situation, but you let him speak, somewhat comforted by his words. “I only have to stay in California until I can afford my own place. And I’ll still be going to the same college, so we won’t be too far from each other during the school year.”

Your college was a five hour drive away from Michael’s. Would he really be willing to make such a long trip up to see you? Would you be willing to take a trip to see him, with the new knowledge looming on your conscience that he would no longer be an arm’s length away once the school year was up? You wanted to be optimistic, but how could you be? A fresh wave of tears escaped your eyes, blurring your vision, but your cries faded to soft whimpers when Michael pulled you up against his chest.

You tried not to remind yourself of the fact that this would likely be one of the last times you’d be able to feel him there against you, one of the last times you’d absorb the heat from his skin, his distinct scent overtaking you like a natural aphrodisiac, intoxicating you.

You tried to reason with reality: if the universe had tried so hard to keep you apart all this time, maybe you and Michael being together had simply not been written in the stars (or at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself— how could a connection so strong not be meant to be?, you asked yourself dejectedly). The way you felt for Michael was special, unlike anything else you’d ever experienced before. He was a natural high, a gust of fresh springtime air, a golden ray of good in a gray-black world of bad.

But, as the saying went, all good things must come to an end. Don’t they?

Perhaps you’d always known, in the very back of your mind, that things would never work out. Perhaps you’d always known that your heart would wind up broken (no, not broken— incinerated). The cards had never been in your favor, and there had been a hundred million warning signs that you’d blatantly ignored time and time again.

But it hurt.

And you doubted it would ever stop hurting. The pain of losing Michael might one day fade from a stabbing agony to a dull ache, but that initial wound would likely never heal completely.

The only thing left to do now was stay entangled in Michael’s warmth for as long as possible, and make weary peace with the tragic ending your time with Michael had come to.

“If we survived being stepsiblings, we can survive this,” Michael said, his lips against your knotted hair, firm arms holding your naked body with a delicate tenderness that you weren’t used to. “You know that when I want something, I make sure that I get it. And what I want, (y/n), is you.”

You nodded, curling into Michael, your bodies fitting together like two perfectly-cut puzzle pieces.

“And I’m gonna have you.” You felt his hand smooth your hair out, and then he placed a kiss on your forehead, as if to imprint his words into your brain. “One day.”

Your eyes fluttered open, and all at once you were lost in a rushing sea of crystal blue, like the one that had lapped against the shore that night you’d fallen in love. As you reached up to caress Michael’s porcelain cheek, thumb grazing the rough stubble that had gathered along his jaw, you couldn’t help but believe him.

One day.

#mine #michael langdon #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon smut #cody fern #Duncan Shepherd #american horror story #ahs #ahs smut #ahs imagines #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon imagine #ahs season 8 #apocalypse #ahs apocalypse

[whiskehorange]

Hellboy, Abe, Johann Kraus, Nuada and Michael (sepret) being forced to watch their s/o die and not being able to do anything to stop it :D

Okay so for each one I’m going to give a small backstory so i can jump right into the angst. Thanks to @boneshine, an amazing friend of mine that has been literally the best got me into thinking about writing more angst so, here we go!

Hellboy - Struck down on a mission (I actually cried writing this one, Im dead serious)

He’s not a stranger to seeing someone he loved to deeply succumb to death. His father, his family, his friends, the people around him. But never did he ever think about the effect he would have if he lost you

Now he sat in his room. Door locked, lights off, no music or anything. His cats all minding their own business, sensing something was off about their handler. He refused to let anyone in, not even Liz for anything. No food, water, not even to go to the bathroom

Hellboy was just about done watching his loved ones die. The memories he had had with you, the love he had shared with you, the future you both wanted to badly for yourselves. Gone, just like that. With a quick strike to the head. Something to simple. Something so… deadly

It was either him or you, and quite frankly, he’s pissed it wasn’t him. The Huntress can fired a single poison dart right into the side of your temple as you jumped in from of Hellboy. It was either you, or him

The rest of the crew raced down and contained the Huntress while Hellboy did everything in his power to keep you alive, keep you with him. Your hand in his was so cold and he knew your times was running out every second your eyes fluttered shut and opened again, each time less aware

You still had that smile on your face, the same one you had every time you saw him, every time he came home to you, every time he said something dumb or made fun of you. The same smile you had on now

He begged and pleaded for you to stay here with him, that everything was going to be alright, that everything was going to be fine and the you were going to come back home with him, start a family and take a short bath and relax it all off

But your eyes fluttered shut, barely opening one last time before your chest stopped moving, your heart coming to a slow and peaceful stop. the tears on Hellboy’s face streamed down, he didn’t care who saw, or what could have killed him right then and there in the middle of the field

He had just lost the love of his life. His reason to smile, to live, to love. All gone in the blink of an eye as he held you to his chest, yearning for you to come back to him. The smile on your face to grow, for you to kiss him one last time before you had to go

Abe - Struck down on a mission

His worst nightmare come to life. His terrors and fears all jumping at him all at once. That demon in the corner of his mind that would come out to taunt him was now face to face with him. That demon, was you

Abe was far to fragile to have been dealing with this, hence why he didn’t want to think about it in the first place. But, he knew it was going to happen one day, and he was going to have to face it now, whether he wanted to or not

Abe knew it was life, and knew it had to happen but why like this? Why in such an violent, broken environment like this? Why couldn’t you have gone oh so peacefully? Why by the hands of the foe? In the hands of hate and rage?

He had left you for a mere 5 seconds to retrieve his gun before he noticed the foe’s hands wrapped around your small neck. Your nails scratching and digging into his almost abnormally large knuckles, the color from your face draining into a ghostly pale

Abe will forever hear the wheezing and gurgling noise your throat made as you gasped for life, your eyes tilting upwards to the sky as your feet dangled just a few centimeters off the ground. It was the look on the foe’s face as he had successfully taken your life away from you that will remain etched into Abe’s brain

And Abe will never forgive himself for not acting any faster. He stood there, frozen of sheer terror for a single second. But that’s all it took for the foe to take the life from your body, just like that. As he raised his gun to the foe’s forehead the rest of the crew took him out as Abe stood there for just a moment more

Who was he going to come home to? Who was he going to love and adore and spend his future with? Your body lie limp on the ground as Abe’s mind races circles around the questions that start with Why…?

As he sank to his knees, your body in his lap, limp and lifeless, he had never wished he could cry ever in his life. He feel as though he’d cry more water than there was in the sea, more water than there was on Earth itself

His hands pressed themselves one both your eyelids, shutting them so you could sleep and open your eyes to your new home. He tried to refrain but he couldn’t help it. A hand traveled to your temple as he pushed a finger, looking for all of your inner thoughts and feelings and he felt the most crushing thing a man could ever feel…

Nothing

Johann - Struck down on a mission

Johann barely remembered what it was like to feel the natural jobs of the body. How to breath, how to blink, how to feel hungry or thirsty, but that did not stop him from feeling any emotion. He himself doubted the fact that as his ectoplasmic form he would ever be able to find love again, but he did. And now he can to face the exact same emotions that came along with loosing that faith, that love that his partner gave him

He cursed the day he had to seclude himself into that forsaken suit. You’d think with the B.P.R.D they would have enough money to make a decent, non destructible suit just for him but no. Any minor gash or cut would be completely fatal for him. Of course you knew that too

Tracking along with the other agents you would fret about Johann, staying my his side, holding his metallic hand, knowing it wasn’t really his but knowing he enjoyed your enthusiasm about his present… form. He despised it and made it a point to always bring it up, but with you next to him, he could take his mind off of it for once

That’s why you can gone with him in the first place. To keep him calm. Not that he would get too over his head about anything, but just so keep him from worrying about the suit, and focusing on the mission. The damn mission. It’s what got you killed in the first place. The damn suit. The damn suit got you killed in the first place

Johann, for once, was over his head angry at his form, at his suit, and what it caused. So many things had happened at once for him. A gash at his suit, the ambush, the look of absolute terror on your face, the gash on your body. Not his

The ambush had pushed everyone back in surprise and the clubs and the knife and the weapons of the beast were out for blood. Out for killing, out for damage to those in front of them. And those… happened to be you. It was the right thing to do in the moment and you knew that Johann would not be able to recover if his suit was damaged. Neither would you, but that didn’t matter

The gash severed your abdomen almost in half, but not completely. Blood soaking through your shirt and spilling onto the ground. Johann was the first to notice as your eyes had locked onto his, before you had fallen into this arms. Rage came forth, more that it had ever been before. Not at you, not at the ambush, but at himself

He’ll never be able to get the blood off of his suit. He’ll never be able to forgive himself. He’ll never be able to be happy with himself. He’ll never be able to forget the sight of seeing your body fall lifelessly into his arms as your spirit slowly drifted away from him

Nuada - Struck down by an assassin

Nuada was no stranger to those who wanted to kill him and seize his kingdom, but he was to the feelings of loosing someone and actually cared about. Someone that had not only confessed their loyalty to him but for him to confide almost all he had into them

It was deadly to him. Absolutely god awful to him. Although it not being his first time seeing someone die before him, or at the hands of him, you can bet that his life is just not going to be the same. His anger, his regret, his emotions, his life long hatred for all kind out and surfacing through. All because of a single arrow to your chest

The hardest part was watching you suffer. It’s always the case of you being the exception. Suffering people, so be it. Suffering you? By god let the rains pour down there will be blood lost that evening. He never would have thought of the day that you ended up saving him, besides the day you met. The ones who wanted to hurt him sure as hell got their wish when you had jumped to his action and took the arrow to the chest

It was a split second of disbelief on all three faces. The disbelief that the assassin missed, the disbelief that you had been struck, and the disbelief that you were doing to die. It was the look you gave Nuada once you had turned to face him, the foe high tailing it back so he wouldn’t have to face the consequences soon to come

It was that look of irony. You had an arrow impaling your chest, yet you looked at him like it was some kind of joke. The look slowly draining you as Nuada could only stare back and rub your shoulders with shaky hands. Every part of his body went into full panic as he watched your body weave from side to side, your eyelids fluttering as you tried to keep your posture

All he could do was watch you slip away from him. You were still in his arms physically, but he would never be able to hold a conversation with you ever again. He would never be able to tell you how much he loved you, how much you meant to him, how much you helped him. Instead he held that shallow casing of the person he was once confided in. Gone. 

His sword was unsheathed and hell was to be payed that evening. Each and every one of them would have their own personal arrow to the chest. To feel and experience that pain that he felt in such a massive quantity that Nuada was most likely never going to be the same

Michael - Shot by home intruder

It was only a matter of time before he heard the gun shot from inside the house. Not only a few seconds before he stepped in from the back porch had he seen the events unfold before him. The intruder, out the front door, not intending on closing it. You, slumped on the kitchen floor, not saying anything but clutching your side in pure agony

He had never had such a primal instinct to chase and kill that he did in the moment, but more important things needed to be attended to. Michael’s rage practically seething through him as he tried to help you. His hands were aggressive as your body tried to keep up with his vigorous attempts to get you standing straight and sitting in the chair

He was crying. Michael was crying. This was the most emotion he had felt in twenty some years and it did not feel good to him. For once he wondered why he couldn’t have felt your love this strong, of something else. Why this agony? Why did it hurt so much more than any of his physical wounds?

The blood sputtering out of your mouth only worried him more. He knew that when that happened nothing could be done to help you. He was no doctor but knew just what had happened and where you had been shot to make you bleed that much

Michael had also never shushed or lulled someone like this before in his life. Never had he cared about anyone dying before him, especially in his arms. His attempts to keep you alive still aggressive. He could not and would not face letting you split away from him. You were his and that was it. Death taking you away from him infuriated him to no end

Both of his hands would go from holding your face up to him, shaking you slightly and groaning for you to stay with him to rubbing up and down your shoulders to him checking all over your body to brushing your hair out of your face to looking at your wound every now and then. It was only a matter of time before you were gone and lying limp in his hands

The cries and groans from Michael sounded almost inhuman. They sounded of pure agony and torture, which is what is was to him. This town was going to pay and feel the true wrath of Michael Myers. His anger never again to be brushed off. Halloween was for one night, but his anger was forever

#hellboy #hellboy x reader #abe sapien #abe sapien x reader #johann kraus #johann kraus x reader #hellboy the golden army #prince nuada #prince nuada x reader #michael myers #michael myers x reader #halloween

[flowerpowell]

The Boy Next Door (Colt x MC / Logan x MC)

PART THIRTEEN

A/N: IM SO SORRY PLEASE DONT HATE ME. Characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just playing with them.

Rating: PG-18 (lots of swearing)

Word count: 2250

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn @desiree-0816 @lovehugsandcandy @walkerduchess @liamzigmichael4ever @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @hellomynameisdevi @client-327 @badchoicesposts @blackcatkita @pixel-thirsty @drakeismyweakness @donutsgirl36 @miss-raleigh-carrera @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @lovemychoices @mrskaneko @missameliep ♥

I love him. I love Colt.

“Bye, honey! Safe journey, you two!”

“Bye, Dad!”

I love Colt. I love Colt. I love Colt.

“You okay in there?” Logan asked glancing at his girlfriend, lost in thought.

I love Colt, I-- “Yes, yes,” she smiled at him.

“If something is bothering you--”

“I’m fine, Logan. I just want to go home and lie down for a bit, I’m tired.”

Logan swallowed hard and shifted his attention back to the road in front of them. “If you say so...”

She hated this. She hated the fact that Logan still didn’t know. She hated the fact that she loved Colt, not her own boyfriend. She did love Logan though, but it was nothing compared to what she felt to Colt. She just wanted to be home, in his house, see him, just see him. She needed to see him or else she would die.

When Logan parked in front of the house, Ellie almost ran inside looking for him.

Colt was doing the dishes when she entered and he instantly turned his head at the sound of the intrusion. He smiled at her so widely that Ellie forgot how to breathe.

I love him. I love him. I love him.

With a heart beating way too fast for a healthy human being, she took a few steps towards him as he wiped his hands.

I love him. I love him. I love him.

Slowly, he put his arms around her waist, wrapping her in a hug. She could smell his cologne and his aftershave and it was the most beautiful smell ever.

I love him. I love him. I love him.

Colt pulled away and looked at her with a serious expression. Even though it lasted for less than a minute, it felt like eternity and the longer he stared the more sure she was that Colt just read her mind.

Colt? You’re here? I might have used your toothbrush to clean the toilet when I was mad at you.

No reaction. He couldn’t read her mind after all.

“Ellie, I--”

“Hey, can someone help me with these?” Logan walked into the apartment carrying two large suitcases, two bags full of homemade dishes from Ellie’s father, her purse, his phone and two water bottles.

“On it,” Colt quickly broke the eye contact with Ellie and took a few things from Logan to help him out. Ellie grabbed her purse and headed towards her bedroom, feeling both, Colt’s and Logan’s, eyes on her.

Oh boy, what a mess.

~~~~

A few days passed and Ellie still didn’t know what Colt wanted to tell her that day. She tried to get him to talk to her but they seemed to never be completely alone. Ellie’s feelings to Colt only intensified with each day and she felt like she was going to explode soon.

On a Saturday morning, she decided to wake up earlier and catch Colt in the kitchen before Logan woke up. But once she got out of bed, her boyfriend opened his eyes and gently grabbed her hand.

“Hey... Is everything okay?” He asked concerned.

“Yes, I couldn’t sleep. I’m going to make coffee.”

“Ellie...” he let go of her hand and looked at her wistfully. “Is it about me? I—I see something is wrong, you’re being distant and I... I know I’m busy with my job and everything but I hope you know how much I love you.”

Ellie swallowed hard and nodded. She needed to tell him. Soon. Before he would somehow find out on his own.

“I love you too Logan,” she whispered and got back in bed with him. I love you Logan. Just... not the way I love Colt.

He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead.

Why does life have to be so complicated?

~~~~

Ellie didn’t talk to Colt that day. She talked to Annya instead. The woman brought more letters and pictures for Ellie and the two were looking through old photos of Colt, laughing and sharing stories. Ellie grew to like Colt’s mother and she was sure he would love her too. She knew from Annya that Colt inherited his stubbornness from his father. Colt was actually very similar to Teppei in many ways as Ellie noticed after learning more about Teppei. She wanted Colt to learn more about his parents too. She had many letters to prove that Teppei did love his son a lot and was proud of him and she couldn’t wait to share them with Colt. She hated knowing that he thought his parents hated him. He deserved nothing but love and Ellie wanted to prove it to him.

When she came home after school a few days later, Colt was sitting on the couch and watching something. He smiled when she walked in and she felt a familiar warmth in her heart at the sight.

“Hey, how was school?” he asked turning off the TV.

“It was... good, but this is not what I wanted to talk about with you,” Ellie sat down next to him and started chewing her lip nervously.

“Talk? What happened?”

“Nothing happened! I just wanted to talk. About life and stuff like that. Nothing specific.” Liar.

“Okay...? Then, umm... how’s life?” Colt asked confused and Ellie tried to supress a chuckle.

“Your life Colt. I wanted to ask you to tell a little bit more about your father and mother. If that’s okay.”

“Ellie,” Colt ran his hand through his hair, “there’s not much to tell. My mom left us when I was little and Pop never cared about me. You know the story.”

“I do but... Do you know why your mom left you? Or why your father was treating you like this?”

Colt sighed. “Pop said she wanted to focus on her life and the two of us were just an obstacle. I don’t know why he treated me like this, he probably hated me for ruining his and mom’s life.”

Ellie swallowed hard knowing it was not true. She didn’t want to push him too far as Colt really hated sharing anything from his life and the fact that he was talking to her was already a big victory.

“Why do you care, actually?” He raised an eyebrow and looked at her and she shrugged.

“Just wondering. You know I’m nosy.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled.

“I think it’s not true. I mean, I don’t think your father hated you. I think he loved you and was proud of you. And your mother loved you too.”

“Yeah, yeah, and then pigs started flying and shitted all over Pop’s head and it turned him into a grumpy monster,” Colt rolled his eyes and Ellie bursted into laugher.

“Maybe not exactly that but... Your father was proud of you.”

“I wish, Ellie. I tried so damn hard but he only complained about me. And now he’s dead so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

Ellie took a deep breath and retrived Teppei’s letter from her pocket. She cleared her throat before speaking. “He was proud of you. I—I have a proof. Here.” She put the letters on his lap and Colt looked at her with a puzzled expression. “These are your fathers letters. To your mom, who didn’t leave you by the way, she... was studying here and it was your father who took you from her and--”

“Ellie,” Colt turned his attention to letters in front of him, “where the hell did you get these?”

“I umm.... got them from your mom...”

“Who?!”

“Your mom. She just started working at my university and I wanted to get to know her better when we started talking--”

“You what?”

“I... talked to your mom. She actually never left you and I--”

“You talked to my mother?” Colt abruptly stood up and was towering over her now.

“Yes, but I wanted to know why she left you because you always thought you had no one and I thought--”

“You thought what?” His voice was calm but she could see he was angry.

“I thought... I wanted... I thought I would try to reunite you with your family...”

“And why would you do that? You know why I never wanted to keep in touch with her, I thought you knew me... Why, Ellie?! Why?”

“Because... I wanted... I wanted you to have a family. I knew you wanted one and--”

“Wrong. I never said I wanted anyone. I have no one and I’m good with that.” He didn’t even sound angry at that moment, he sounded broken and upset that Ellie did something like that.

Shit.

“You have me...”

“I don’t.”

“But...”

“No buts, Ellie!” He started yelling, now definitely angry, “How DARE you talk to someone from my life? Why couldn’t you just mind your own damn business?! Why did you do this?!”

“Because...”

“I am sick of you. You always think you know best, don’t you? But this is not your life, it doesn’t affect you, so fuck off.”

“I just wanted--”

“I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU WANTED! This woman left me, and I don’t care what is her official version, I have the right to not talk to her.”

“I know but I--”

“But I! I! I! This is not about you! You’re not my sister, you’re not my family.” He looked at her and swallowed hard before adding. “You’re not my girlfriend. You’re not even my friend. You’re NO ONE, and you have NO rights to do anything like this behind my back!”

“But Colt...”

“NO BUTS!”

“Hey! Why are you yelling at my girlfriend? She didn’t do anything wrong!” Logan walked in after hearing their heated conversation. He glared at Colt and Colt sent him an angry look too.

“A knight in shining armor! This is none of your business so get the fuck out of here!”

“Colt!” Ellie screamed and grabbed Logan’s arm when he wanted to punch Colt.

“You’re being rude to my girlfriend, this is my fucking business as well. She just wanted to get you to talk to your mother, why are you so mad about it? She did it because she cares about you, for whatever reason.”

“Care.” Colt snickerred. “What do you know about caring about other people? Look at you. Defending your girlfriend because you ‘love’ her. And have you ever told her the truth?”

“What truth?” Ellie asked confused.

“Colt!” Logan narrowed his eyes.

“Why, since we’re not minding anyone’s business, let’s share some stories, shall we?”

“COLT!” Logan raised his voice.

“Logan worked for my father,” Colt turned to Ellie with something unreadable in his eyes. “They were both stealing cars, revamping them and selling as new. As a job. I never got into it, I only helped when I needed to. But these two, they were close. Stole many cars until one days they were caught on camera. My father was killed while escaping from the cops but Logan made it.”

Ellie looked at Logan with horror on her face. He stood still, quiet, avoiding her eyes.

“He helped me get my revenge. For my father. This is why I owned him a favor. Wanna know the best part?”

“COLT!!!” Logan yelled but Colt ignored him.

“Logan was so scared he would go to jail that he wanted to find out who was solving his and my father’s case so he could ‘take care’ of this person, too. This is how you found Detective Wheeler, isn’t it, Logan? As you said, it would be easier to get to him through his daugther, right?”

“Logan...?” Ellie looked at her boyfriend or... whoever it was, with tears in her eyes.

“Ellie, I swear I can explain. It’s not like this, I--”

“IS IT TRUE? What Colt said?”

“Yes...” Logan bit his lip and looked at her pleadingly.

“How could--”

“Oh, stop it. As if you’re a saint!” Colt turned to Ellie.

“Colt...”

“What? We’re telling each other secrets, right? You didn’t think twice before prying into my business so why should I?” He turned to Logan. “On your anniversary, when she broke up with you, she ended up naked in my bed. Has she ever mentioned that? I still have scratches on my back from her nails if you wanna see.”

“Colt!!!”

“What? Isn’t it nice when people don’t mind their own business?”

“I need... I need a moment,” Logan took a few steps back and Ellie started crying. They both looked broken and Colt, on the other hand, looked furious.

“Good. Now that we all established that you are worth each other, I want you, both of you, to get the fuck out of my house. I don’t want to see ANY of you EVER AGAIN in my life.” Colt yelled before storming out. Logan took his jacket and walked out of the door too. 

Ellie looked at both of them leaving, feeling as if her whole world was falling apart. She collapsed on the floor, crying so hard that she couldn’t catch a breath. It didn’t take long before her crying stopped and everything went black.

#ride or die: a bad boy romance #ride or die: bad boy romance #colt kaneko #colt kaneko x mc #colt x mc #rod colt #rod logan #logan x mc #angst alert #choices #playchoices #sorry

[snaggerleo]

ANYWAY im nosy, have you ever tried Shauntal before?

Shauntal was a ghost writer as a hobby. Usually when she told people that, it got a lot of blank stares, the equivalent of telling them that she drank water when she was thirsty. “Yes, Shauntal, we knew that.”

But it didn’t seem to her like anyone actually knew what that meant, and just assumed she’d thrown out some kind of pun. She had, in fact, ghost written many novels and screenplays, usually ones claiming to be autobiographical. It was like a fun little puzzle; taking what her client told her to write about their lives, and sort of slipping into their personality to flesh out an entire book as if they’d written it.

As a result, she hadn’t met nearly as many people as she knew about, knowing childhood details of gym leaders from other regions. Among her more recent works, she’d completed a screenplay approved to be made into a movie based on a pretty rough scandal out of a region she really didn’t know about. It was hard, slipping into the mindset of an angry young man in a broken world, but it was a lot of fun, though she couldn’t blame anybody for not understanding what she found so enjoyable about essentially roleplaying while novelizing the news.

When you sit down to play pretend for awhile, why would you want to choose to be some filthy teenager on a rickety bike?

#We got jokes #sterlingsilverchampion

[oppapi-tae-blog]

insomnium - 01/??

insomnium: dream, bad dream, vision, wakefulness

demon!yoongi vampire!taehyung

"don't underestimate us darling.. for we are the spawn of satan himself. ."

warnings: eventual smut

   *yoongi and tae will be speaking in latin for this first part ♥

this is for one of my bestest of friends Americus,, ily💕

"What a pretty sight.." the eyes of the creature skim over my face and body. He speaks in a language I can't understand and calls out a name. His pitch black eyes travel to a figure behind him. "She's all yours. Have your drink."

Another man steps out, just as pale as the other and he smirks. "My pleasure." It comes out, almost hiss-like. He opens his mouth to reveal his fangs and runs his tongue over them.

I stand frozen, too scared to move. I try to open my mouth to speak, but it's almost like my body is no longer under my control. All I can do is stare.

The creature with the fangs comes over to me in the blink of an eye, arm wrapped around my waist, lips against my neck. My heart skips a beat due to fear. "Don't worry darling.. It'll only hurt the first 5 seconds," His voice sent shivers down my spine. "I promise." He smirks and pierces his teeth through my skin.

I wake up to a phone call in a cold sweat. I glance around the room and find myself in the same place I always find myself after that same exact dream.. on the floor, huddled up in a ball-like form. I reach up to my neck to make sure it's okay and I let out a breath of relief when I feel no marks.

The breaths I take are sharp and short-lived. I sit up slowly and grab my phone and answer. I take a deep breath and try to forget the dream.

•

"What the fuck?" I make a face of disgust and push my bestfriend, Emily, away from me. "What?" Emily laughs. "They're good I swear! Just try it! C'mon Liz, they don't look that bad. They're good brownies!"

"This is what you called me at 3am for? Emily, it looks like actual dog shit, why would you ask me to try this? I thought someone was dying." I shake my head and turn to walk away. "I'm going home, I'm tired."

She called me and told me that there was an emergency and that someone was going to die. Being a good bestfriend that I am, I got out of bed, at 3am to be exact, and came over. If it was any other person, I would've told them to fuck off and deal with it themselves, I'm not in the mood to save lives right now, sorry.

It's not really a problem that she called at 3am, because it wasn't like I was sleeping anyways, just taking a nap. I was fine with that, but what ruined it was her shoving her plate of dog shit in front of my face as soon as I walked in.

"But I need to make sure they actually taste good by tomorrow or my boss will fire me," Emily frowns. "Pleaassee?"

"No, goodbye. Ask your, so handsome boyfriend, Hoseok, to try them, I'm sure he'll lie and say they taste good to make you feel better." I smile and wave goodbye. She waves back, still frowning. "Love you, Emily." I blow a sarcastic kiss that she responds with a flipped finger and many, many "naughty" words, ready to spill out.

"Thanks for nothing!" She yells out and I laugh.

She shuts the door and I walk to my car to go home.

Once I'm in my house, I immediately feel a strange air around me. If I were feeling like my normal self, I would freak out and leave that house and call the Ghostbusters, but for some reason my mind decides to convince me that it's nothing and I go upstairs to get my laptop from my room.

entry #26 To say I'm an asshole is an understatement. Assholes are dirty, smelly, unpleasant, disgusting, and weirdly shaped? I consider myself more like.. a sarcastic-toe. Here's why: I don't take things seriously, which tends to make the sarcastic side to myself come out regularly, (I know when to make a joke and how to be serious when I need to) and toe because.. nobody likes them. They're kinda just there to keep you balanced, but they're ugly. They're also almost always covered by socks and shoes. You don't see them much, but they're there. Get it?

It's weird to compare myself to a toe and I'm pretty sure nobody calls themselves one. Especially a sarcastic one.

Of course, people use it to insult themselves, I do too. Anyone could. But I bet you can't tell me anybody who has described themselves the way I just did with a toe.

Can you?

•

After I'm done typing I get a text from my friend Jungkook.

up for an early morning ghost hunt? ;)) - 4:07am

wtf jk go to sleep im not abt to get possessed at 4am - 4:08am

thanks tho - 4:08am

u wont get possessed i promise - 4:09am

i have the equipment to save u if u do anyways - 4:09am

no. - 4:10am

:( - 4:10am

Jungkook was always really weird and liked to chase demons down, even after I told them they didn't exist. I told him this up until I started having those dreams. Now, I'm not so sure.

I go onto Youtube to kill time, and watch Degrassi. I grab my headphones and I'm about to put them in until I hear a glass breaking in my kitchen.

I groan and frown. "Rivada, what the FUCK are you doing?"

I wait a couple of seconds until I get a reply.

"I was thirsty!" She yells back.

Rivada is the girl I've lived with for 6 months in this house. She's one of the most understanding, loving, kind person I've ever met. But, she's also extremely dumb and slow. Of course, this doesn't make me love her any less.

I mumble, "Dumbass."

"I can hear you Liz." She walks in and plops herself beside me and takes an earbud.

I blink at her.

"What are you doing? I'm about to watch Degrassi, go back to your room. "

"No, the fuck, you're not my mom or my dad. I'm gonna watch with you." She smiles and puts the earbud in. "Fine. Just don't ask questions or say anything while we watch ,you know I hate that. Also, JK texted me a little while ago."

"He texted me too. He said he was going to go to this ugly ass cemetery and asked if I wanted to go, but I said nah because last time I did something like that with him I almost lost a finger so."

I nod. "He asked me if I wanted to go too, butI just didn't feel like getting possessed tonight."

She laughs. "He wouldn't let you get posses-"

Three obnoxiously loud knocks cut her short and I groan. "It's literally 4am, why is everyone up right now." I get up and go to the door.

"Who is it and what do you want?" I raised my head up to look through the hole thing, but saw nothing.

"Assholes." I turn and start walking back until I hear another knock. "I swear to fucking Gobble if they knock again I'm kicking somones crotch."

I put my hand on the knob and I yell, "Go away."

Again, three knocks. That's it. I yank the door open, yet there's no one. I poke my head out and look both ways. My eyes drift to my drive way and I see two people. I squint to see better.

No, no, no. Fuck this shit. I shut the door and lock everything. I press against the door then I jog over to the living room. "Rivada? Where are you?" I look over to the couch, and she's suddenly not there.

Okay..

I make my way over to the kitchen. Not here either. "Stop. Don't play games with me right now, Rivada it's not funny, you know I get scared easily around this time." I start to freak out when she's not in the kitchen.

I check on all the bathrooms to see if the light is on. The one in my room is on and I go to knock and see if she's in there.

"Rivada? You in there?" No one answers and I let my hand travel to the door knob and I open it. My mirror is broken and the water is on in the sink. My heart rate picks up and I run out of the room to hers.

I'm shaking as I go up to her door and I slam it open.

She's laying over her bed, not breathing. I walk over to her and shake her. No response.

"Haha, so funny, Rivada. You can stop pretending now." I speak half jokingly and half not-so jokingly.

She takes in a sharp, long breath. "Oh thank God you were only kidding." I laugh. "C'mon, we have to go though, there's people outside who I really don't trust."

Her eyes are still closed, but she giggles. "I'm being serious, we NEED to go."

"No.. we stay." Her eyes snap open and they're entirely black.

My breath gets caught in my throat. I push away from her as fast as I can. I glance over at her window that has the perfect view of the driveway and I see no one.

She slowly starts sitting up and I step away. "Liz, you know I wouldn't hurt you, why do you walk away so suddenly?" Her voice and dialect change. She speaks as if she was born thousands of years ago.

My blood runs cold and the color from my body drains.

Her body starts changing in size and it deforms and becomes one of the men I fear most. "Please wake up. Wake up." I tell myself. "Stop. Whoever you are. Leave me alone. I just want to leave." I step back until I find myself pressed against another body.

"Why leave so early darling? We just got here.. why don't you treat us?"

AYYE I FINALLY POSTED IT IM SORRY AMERICUS I LOVE YOU

#bts #btssmut #demon yoongi #vampire taehyung #kpop #btsau #jungkook #jimin #im sorry its trash #ff #I APOLOGIZE #love yourself #btsff #taehyung #yoongi #namjoon #seokjin #hoseok #vampire #smut #fanfic #au #reading tags are you ;))) #hello #why are you reading this lmao #hey tho #im mina

[fortheloveofcringe]

n e e d y //

I could go and write something where people would look up to me like a success story. That’s always a way to prove you’re something in the society you live in. It’s the easier choice, to make people feel like there is hope and success at the end of the dark tunnel but then people tend to overlook or push-back, the fact that there are things that happen along the road, they happen at the scariest time and moments in your life and never do these “people” who I have dealt with bother to feel it unless it needs to be felt. It’s like emotion these days has to have an on and off button. That’s scares me a lot, but then these days I’ve been thinking, being scared doesn’t do nothing to me, it just make me fight more, even after so much downfall and rejection.

Rejection, I’m going to touch bases with this one. Something I’ve dealt with my entire life. From my paternal grand parents making me feel like an abomination just because I was gay and no one in the bloodline has to be gay, or to the most fresh wound I have, which marks it’s first month today, me being single, after such a wonderful, scary and inspiring relationship with Timothy.

 You know something, perhaps I’m writing this as a formal closure to that chapter in my life because for so long I have been writing about so much sad stuff in the cloud of anger that I just want to get things off my chest differently which is to address this in a way where I’m the monster, and I’m not anymore pointing my fingers to the monsters in my story. I can’t even believe I called myself a monster right just about now.

 Anyway, Timothy, if you would read previous entries you might get the idea of a modern day fairy tale relationship. None of my wildest dreams per say. I adored him so much that it just hurt us both, badly. To cut the long story short. He just never needed me the way I needed him. It sucks. To just throw dreams of having a bright future with someone out of the window just because it hurts your eyes and you want to do a reality check but I guess that’s why we have sunglasses, they say it protects the eyes. I never realized some eyeglasses are fake and just do nothing but leave marks on your nose.

 Needy. I’m needy. I’ve been crying and going crazy for weeks now. This has been such a wild ride with him that looking back now I just feel like everything we had was just from a book. A Novel, a fictional one. I wish him the best however it just makes me feel a certain way knowing I have suffered more than he did. It’s like all the entire time I believe he had some reservations about us and he knew we are not going to work out and a few puzzle pieces come into my mind to support this claim. One, he never formally introduced me to his family because I think he never wanted them involved when it all crashes down unlike mine where my family had known him and are angry and tears knowing I almost tore my relationships with them just to have Timothy by my side. Two, being with him, despite the care and the love, felt like a love prison, for both of us. What I mean is I felt like he was just faking it to make sure he complied with the “ideal boyfriend” persona he describes himself as because there are moments when he had rolled his eyes at me to the back of his skull thinking “Hambert is not really worth it”. Three, and last, in support of number two, He admitted he wanted someone else. Not me. I’m glad I had so much time to make sure I have figure out the science of persuasion that I figured out a way to make him spill the truth to me and I have to say it was fucked up. Imagine being with a person beside you while his mind is off sucking someone else’s dick. That felt like boiling water in my freshly healed heart. Because I think breaking up is fine, sure some relationships need a time-off, but to know who’s replacing you? that’s just fucked up.

 This is where I got really and intensely angry at him that I made sure we really would hate each other after the end because my good side tried to patch things up with him even though it made me look so desperate running through their doors just to give him a movie or something so he wouldn’t be wasting time or whatever, but the bad side of me just wanted to get even so I made sure that I did some stupid things that actually, in the end, bought me peace of mind and of course some insights to process my pain.

 I met his the girl he dated before me. Which he just ghosted. I did that to catch his attention which ended up me having blocked by him on social media. My point of meeting this girl, besides my petty brain, was to make sure I erase this picture of him that I painted in my head, which was a handsome prince who picked roses for me every morning just to make sure I don’t dance in stems of thorns. Timothy was such a great man that he also made sure I would feel like nobody would care for me the way he cared. Which was debugged when I and Venus, the ex of my ex, had lunch over spaghetti, taco’s and the dick we both had in our mouths (and by dick we mean by attitude or literally, whichever comes first to your mind) When we talked I realized he has a cruel way of making sure you wouldn’t compare him to anyone. And the way he twisted their story to me, because when we spoke I realized Tim was such a liar he had to make her look thirsty for him and no woman should be painted that way, ever. That conversation I believe healed us both in a way were now, we’re friends and shit-talking about a guy full of shit which basically catered to what I want which was to make sure all of the good pictures in my head was crossed check for what is the actuality of who he was. In that moment me and Venus realized we were both used as a gateway for his lust to a guy named Gwen. I can’t call it love because I’m sure Tim has not have the opportunity to connect with Gwen on a deeper level so fuck fake smiles here, people.

 Who I thought was the man, that I’m willing to go through with all the hardships in my life, who would support me, and help me grow, turned to be a complete poser. This was hard for me because I know him in way that not Venus knows and I know very well that he’s a broken soul, but there is no rational reason to justify his pain to be carried over to his present life knowing well that he is old enough to fuck us both, and for him to be running around and break the hearts of people who loves him.

 What also bothered me was the fact tat he was just so ready to move on to the next page of his life which was by trajectory, was Gwen, and that he never muttered a word that would have potentially brought us back together. He was just so “Please I need new dick in my mouth I’m bored of you because you’re  a pain in the ass”.

 Pain in the ass was also one thing that he couldn’t handle. He never wanted anal with me. Now, I don’t know why but I have a strong feeling that would have it been Gwen to offer to top him, I’m sure he’d squat in less than a second. Forgive my bitterness overflowing in each word here, if you’ve been in so much pain, you might understand.

 The world isn’t big enough because this Gwen guy is a close friend of my friend Argie. Now long story short Gwen doesn’t do boys, or so he claims. Tim got dumped and now it’s a double whammy for our pretty boy Tim who thinks everyone is gonna drool for him. I hate him though. That Gwen guy, he haven’t done no shit. I can’t like him because he’s the friend of my friend and I know it’s not his fault, but sometimes disliking people just don’t need to be justified, we just feel the way we feel.

 I hate knowing he was my replacement just in case he was into boys because he’s manly, skinnier and lanky (as Tim admitted he like those kind of boys, one where he could pose as a pedophile) short, and it makes me more bitter going to work everyday passing their 3-story house making it feel like a slap to me for coming from a poor family. It was like “Hambert, your replacement is a handsome, skinny guy whose rich and that’s what our high maintenance Tim boy wants, bye, you deserve to be left, so sorry but not sorry, go ahead and die.”

 Got a chance to talk to him though and I think he’s smart from staying off the dirt because I would drag him in the mud with Tim on top of him so they could finally get to fuck one another for making me and Venus shed tears.

 Let me tell you one thing though. And this is fucked up. I still love him.

 I still feel his kisses on my lips. His face in my chest. The scent of his hair or his subtle way of putting his nose on my shoulders in the jeep. This is what breaks me to tears like right now. Because knowing I can’t have that anymore. It’s feels like death and I’ve had a fair share of losing people and tragedies from living so poor, not eating to being accused of wrong things, to be bullied in work or having my grandmother die while I’m carrying her to the hospital or maybe even growing up without a father, but I think this has been the greatest pain I’ve dealt with. To be in tears because of love.

 And I can go ahead and make stories about how I successfully dodged a bullet. But to be fair, I know that in those nights I spent with with him, the love we shared, I know he’s the love of my life and there could never be anyone. Because now I’m scared to be loved and be in love. I can’t embrace something that broke me.

 I’m now employed ans still studying. Things seem fine. I’m walking on a fire pit but I’m still alive.

 However if there is one more song we can bond over, just one last, I wish I can sing Ariana’s “Needy” to him. Just to make him understand. How good it feels to be needed.

[snowinmytea]

92 truths

tagged by @animestake

Last:

drink; milk

phone call; a friend

text message; bribe them with brownies

song you listened to; some random lo-fi hip hop

time you cried; tuesday

have you ever:

dated someone twice; ew, no

been cheated on; ew, no

kissed someone and regretted it; i try not to

lost someone special; last thursday

been depressed; sporadically

been drunk and thrown up; ashamedly yes

in the past have you;

made a new friend; i’d like to think so

fallen out of love; what is love tho

laughed until you cried; yes

met someone who changed you; quite a few

found out who your true friends are; think so

general;

how many people on tumblr do you know in real life; 4

do you have any pets; ma fishies

do you want to change your name; from debbie to queen of the universe

what time did you wake up today; 0845????

what were you doing last night; art homework again

name something you can’t wait for; trip to scotland to visit the fam

have you ever talked to someone named tom; many

what’s getting on your nerves right now; the amount of time i’m spending playing the piano, like 2 hours can you not

blood type; ?

nickname; spring roll

relationship status; single, hmu

zodiac sign; astrological: capircorn, chinese: snek

pronouns; she/her

favourite show; daiya no ace

college; secondary school (11-18yrs)

hair color; v.dark brown

do you have a crush on someone; i ask myself this all the time

what do you think of yourself; hardcore stan of marmite and golden syrup

first:

surgery; nah

first piercing; nope, hate ‘em

first sport you joined; netball, year 6

first vacation; probably nice in france

first pair of sneakers; you think i remember

right now:

eating; mini eggs (chocolate to clarify)

drinking; tea

listening to; my mother talking

want kids; probably

get married; if i meet someone

career; chemical engineer

which is better:

lips or eyes; eyes

hugs or kisses; hugs

shorter or taller; taller gives better hugs but shorter makes me feel tall so idm

older or younger; older

romantic or spontaneous; depends

sensitive or loud; in the middle

hook up or relationship; hook up bc i find irl romance digusting atm

trouble or hesitant; neither would be nice

have you ever:

kissed a stranger; yes

drank hard liquor; don’t think so?

lost contacts or glasses; nah

sex on the first date; nopity nope

broken someones heart; does my own count?

been arrested; i’m a good child

turned someone down; nope

fallen for a friend; i don’t know

do you believe

in yourself; yes i’m fabulous

miracles; the jesus kind

I tag: feeling lazy so if you wanna

#personal

[baebyunie]

[LONG POST] THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT BYUN BAEKHYUN

I’m gonna make this post again cz I want to add a few more stuff here. 

1. He is always sweet with his fans

> There was a fanacc on 150117 Airport, there was a fan fell down in front of Baekhyun. Baekhyun helped her up and he said “be careful”

> At the fansign event, Baekhyun blow dry his signature before giving it to his fan.

> 

It was a Lotte Pepero shooting place. The fan came as a fan at first but she was also filmed later. EXO gave fans ice-creams there. She would get one but she said there was like a war there, she was pushed so far behind that she couldn’t even see who was in front of her. Baekhyun seemed seeing that so he reached his hand towards her to give her ice-cream. She said “Baekhyun was so far from me but he still managed to give me a pepero, i was so touch”

credit: bb_506

> A fan fell and Baekhyun turned and looked over with concern

credit: Seashellbaek

> Baekhyun carefully puts his fanletters in the bag 

> During one of TLP concert, Baekhyun fell, fans were worried and left allot of comments on Baek’s Insta, Baekhyun didn’t want fans to worry so he said “Im not in pain because im Iron Koong”

> This is a Fanacc who met Baekhyun at the airport.

From the fan’s point of view

So glad i didn’t raise the Baekhyun banner for nothing! I was the only one waving around in my area. The security didn’t allow for us to do so too, my Chen banner got confiscated minutes after i raised it. I kept looking out for the security while i held the banner! So happy that Baekhyun saw and waved in my direction a few times. 

A friend sitting in the first row told me that during the break while the 6 members were resting and the others were performing, Baekhyun kept glancing over and mouthing “Good job”. 

I was so afraid that Baekhyun wouldn’t have support because of the tight security and i was so anxious the entire time. But when Baekhyun looked over, all i could think of was “thank you Baekhyun, thank you.” Thank you for the fanservice. 

While i was sending them off at the airport, i was pushed forward by the fans at the back. I was quite close to Baekhyun because of that. The pushing went on for quite awhile and the security in front kept pushing me back. Amongst the chaos, i got hit by the security and my phone crashed onto the floor. It broke into pieces right in front of Baekhyun and when i looked up, i saw that Baekhyun looked kinda angry. 

Before they left, i spoke to Baekhyun in a mix of korean and english. I told him that he did great and that he had a lot of fans in china. It’s a pity that they don’t visit often and i told him to rest well when he arrives home. He probably didn’t understand me at first because he kept smiling. I wanted to give him the banners from his fansites as a gift but they got snatched away by the security.

cr: 草莓与糖果

Thi translation from a fanacc off RCY EXO volunteer work Baekyeol

“Lastly Baekhyunㅋㅋㅋㅋ On this day Chanyeol and he were MVPs. Baekhyun was excited to bake and said he loved chocolate chips so he put heaps into the pastry mixture, but then the lady said ‘If you put in heaps then the time it takes for the bread to be done takes longer. You have to put in a certain quantity.’ And then he started laughing and said ‘I understand, I’m sorry’ ㅋㅋㅋㅋ He secretly ate the chocolate chips without the lady knowing ㅋㅋㅋ Chanyeol brought broken bread to Baekhyun and Baekhyun said ‘What is this, is this bread? How can I eat this’ and then  Chanyeol joked ‘Those students over there made it..’ and Baekhyun changed his facial expression immediately and said ‘wow the bread broke nicely’ and put it in his mouth and smiled ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ Apparently it was really cute ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ Oh and at the last moment when they were tidying things up, Joonmyun and Jongin said to Chanyeol and Baekhyun that ‘since you guys ate and played the most you guys should take care of the cleaning’ as a joke and Chanyeol and Baekhyun started putting all their efforts into cleaning upㅋㅋㅋㅋ”

trans cr. onalandfarfaraway

> He always think for his fans. He knows and aware that EXO has many international fans, so he said on EXST that he wants to learn a foreign language so he can communicate with oversea fans.  “WHILE WE GOING AROUND THE WORLD, I WANT TO DO WELL IN LANGUAGES”

He said he want to learn Chinese and Japanese, and he have proven to us that he is learning. During TLP in Japan Baekhyun used allot of Japanese words, you can read many fanacc from the concerts.

> Although he doesn’t post, but he takes time looking at the photo we tagged him on Instagram. Here is a few photo he liked before

2. He is caring and looks after his member well. 

[From Interview]

Q: I think it’s amazing that you got into the debut team after just one year. Who helped you out the most during the trainee years?

Tao: Baekhyun hyung did. Although he couldn’t speak Chinese and I couldn’t speak Korean, we could still converse, using hands and feet. I was so thankfulI bought him dinner few times. (Interviewer: Why?) Because I wanted to(laughs)

Q: I heard that EXO-M members call Baekhyun “Sogogi”. Did you make that nickname for him?

Tao: Hahaha, yeah because we are both Taurus (zodiac sign). But before I didn’t know the word for it so I said to him, “we are both sogogi sign“ since Taurus looks like a cow (sogogi is beef in Korean). He didn’t get it at first but did eventually when I gave him Taurus pendant for his birthday. He was actually confused that I just gave him the pendant. I didn’t realise I had to give him the chain/necklace as well. But he bought it himself and wore it so I was very pleased and touched. 

Q: Then I will ask you about Baekhyun in terms of sogogi. When do you miss Sogogi hyung the most?

Tao: Me? Hmm, I miss him when I’m practising or when I’m doing an interviewlike this. Actually I think about him when I’m just walking too. That’s for all the other members as well though. [via: awesomeliverpool]

[2. Baekhyun Protected Kai in 2013]

on 2013, Kai got injured, as a team member Baekhyun supported him, as usual he get squeezed by fans, Kai got squeezed till he fell, Baekhyun went to help him up, he probably blocked the fans from filming, and fans scolded Baekhyun telling him “To Get Lost”.

[3. Baekhyun Protected Kai once again on 2015] 

[FANACC] 150101 - Jongin injured his leg and there is no manager with him. The fans were still crazy, A bouquet of flowers were thrown at Jongin but Baekhyun tried to take the hit for him. He stood forward to let Kai have more space. The fan turned and didn’t expect to see him standing there instead of Jongin. Eventually Baekhyun just stood quietly in the corner, unmoving, to wait for the rest of the members. After that OP saw Baekhyun touched his face because of the pain [ibaekrauhls]

[4. He will always cheer his member up]

This here Baekhyun was cheering Lay up cz he thought he didn’t sing well

> Lay’s voice cracked when he sang so Baekhyun comforted him 

> It was Baekhyun’s turn to drink, but he saw Chanyeol was exhausted so he let him drink first.

> During TLP concert in Changsha Tao’s leg was hurt so Baekhyun was looking after him

He helps tao placing the chair on the stage so Tao can sit on it, then he help he sat down

When Tao was thirsty Baekhyun went to get him water, he looked after him really well

> He will cheer his member up with his bright smile

> During EXO Showtime ep10 he only bought his member favourite things but he didn’t buy him anything. 

> When EXO had to pick a SNSD song during EST, because there were Chinese members so Baekhyun thought which SNSD songs that they they well. He thinks of his Chinese member very well. 

> Baekhyun to D.O (Sukira)

“Even though you always hit me (because I tease you), I am so happy. I am so happy I can tease you.”

> He treats his co-worker/dancers/staffs really well

[etrans/cre cap: byntang04]

“One of the dancers update her IG related to Baekhyun. At TLP in Guangzhou concert rehearsal, one of the dancer hurt her leg, and after she got hurt she didnt put any medication. Baekhyun saw about that and asked the staff talk to her and told her to put medication and trat her injured legs. Other member didnt know about this. Baekhyun’s so kind and caring. He’s such a good boy.”

> This is another translation from broadcasting company intern’s account on EXO

"… That day, all of Exo were there for Christmas Day promotions. I was suddenly told to do some stage work, leading singers to the stage for their turn. Even though I didn’t know anything, I rushed around the waiting rooms doing my job.

But near one of the waiting rooms I fell hard enough to make a big boom sound. Some of the celebrities glanced at me because of the noise and I was getting frustrated but I couldn’t get up right away because my ankle hurt so much. While I was sitting there looking at my foot, suddenly two men appeared and asked me if I was okay. I said I was okay, and they asked ‘Do you think you can stand?’ I said I could, then suddenly one of them held my arm to help me up, and said ‘Please be careful and thank you for your hard work.’ I later found out that the person who held my arm was called Xiumin? And the other person who came by was called Baekhyun. I was really touched, and what touched me the most was their looks were one of genuine concern…”

> He is a HARD WORKER and always does his best in everything. 

> [140614 TV DAILY] Ryeowook mentioned Baekhyun during the interview. “I recently watched EXO’s concert, and I got to see Baekhyun. He seems anxious. He asked me, “There’s only less than a month’s time left, can I do it (musical)?” I told him that he will definitely do well. He asked me again “I can do it right? right?”. Right now, Baekhyun needs praises rather than criticisms. In fact, I advised him to practice more, and he will most likely do well. I gave him a lot of encouragement.

cr; 小白YIDADA

4. He is friendly and kind since pre-debut

[Predebut] The daughter of Baekhyun’s past tutor uploaded this account, along with a proof shot. When Baekhyun was in middle school, he’d go over to his tutor’s house all the time, literally, all the time. Even after the [study room] door closed, you could hear his non-stop talking. Seriously, the tutor would say, “Baekhyun-ah, let’s start our lesson now!” Even then, Baekhyun wouldn’t stop talking about other things, trying to push off his studies ‘til later by saying “Teach, hold on a sec~” He’d do silly things like act all superficial as if he were some top celebrity, making these random photoshoot expressions; he’d sometimes show off his weird dancing, all to entertain his tutor and her family. Baekhyun also seemed to really like babies, so he’d often play with the tutor’s youngest son, who’d just learn to crawl then: get down on the floor with him, hug the baby while reading him story books, wipe his dribbling saliva, etc. The daughter’s older cousin was also friends with Sehun, who jokingly said that Sehun and he used to do a bunch of idiotic things together during their school days. The daughter didn’t believe the coincidence that she knew people who were close to both Sehun and Baekhyun, predebut, which was before the two current EXO members even knew each other; her cousin showed her his album though, and she was surprised to see Sehun’s name seriously there. 

> [TRANS] From Baekhyun’s Second Year High School Classmate

When i was in the second year of high school, i was in the same class as Byun Baekhyun. To be honest, Baekhyun was more suited to hang out with the kids that are more “playful”, but he doesn’t only hang out with the group of them. He’s very close to the rest of the class too.

He was close to the class president and vice president at that time, he was even nominated to become the next semester’s class president.

There was a student that wasn’t very popular with the other classmates in our class. He was really good at drawing. So one day, Baekhyun went over to him to request for him to draw a caricature of him. After finishing the drawing, Baekhyun took it and pasted it onto the table in class and said, “Look, this was drawn by _______ for me! Be jealous guys!” Baekhyun even bought chocolates for that guy. He was that much of a warm-hearted person.

His personality was always the bright and cheery kind. Everytime we had an occasion, he’d sing for everyone. And honestly, he was very famous in school.

He’s friendly to everyone in class and he’s also very kind to those “kids that are discriminated” by the rest of the class.

Our class president really likes Baekhyun, so everytime he gets to allocate the seats or groups, he’ll always make sure that Baekhyun has the seat next to him. Even when he goes to the toilet or buy bread from the cafeteria, he’ll ask Baekhyun along. One thing’s for sure, he’s a good guy and definitely not bad company.

His dream was to become a singer and everyone around him knew, even the teachers. So whenever a student starts to doze off in class, the teacher would invite Baekhyun to sing a song for everyone. And Baekhyun would then walk out (with swag) and then sing something that would make everyone laugh to brighten the mood in the classroom.

I used to like Baekhyun (OP is a girl). I think Baekhyun’s really handsome and he’s manly, so i used to like him back then. But of course, i wasn’t the only one that liked him. He was really charming and gave off the suave feel to people around him. But because my personality and his were polar opposites, we weren’t that close. In any case, he was my high school classmate, as well as a really really good friend.

cr: 봉자샴 | via: 小白YIDADA

> This is one account that a past [middle school] classmate brought up. There was a female classmate who was teased for her ‘overweight’ appearance, being called fat. Baekhyun stood up for her and told the kids who were teasing the girl, “YOUR WORDS ARE REALLY TOO MUCH, GUYS. SHUT YOUR TRAPS.”

Here are some more past stories of Byun Baekhyun 

translated by: wildhoneyB

Rough translation of this post: [X] [this one was posted on 140824]

Please read along with the pictures (can’t post them in twitlonger). Most of the material is from older accounts that should already be familiar to baekfans, and the conclusion isn’t anything special. This post wouldn’t even be worth much if B hadn’t been bashed on so unreasonably in kfandom that he needs this kind of agonizing “shield”. So don’t bother to spread, please just use as a resource if you’re curious. The entire post is by a fan who wants to clear up the attacks on Baekhyun’s personality by compiling various accounts that show Baekhyun isn’t actual trash. She acknowledges that people may hate him, but asks that the hate only happen for legitimate reasons. She says that although Baekhyun may have come into contact with alcohol in his school years, etc., that doesn’t immediately mean that his personality sucks or that he was a dirty bully back then. Since hate against Baekhyun is still big on Korean internet, the poster (OP from here) is very careful in choosing her words/stance…here’s the data she brings up. 1. Baekhyun according to a fellow classmate (As far as I know, this is from way back, prob 2012.) An account from an elementary and middle-school classmate of Baekhyun’s (Joongheung ES, Joongheung MS). They used to be in the same class and were good friends, but didn’t see each other after high school. She says B was friendly with everyone all around. She’s not personally interested in idols or idol music, but she’s writing this because she saw some bad comments about him when she did a search, curious about her past classmate debuting. She says B really had a soft heart and was nice to everyone, and a lot of people adored him. B was already the funny oddball back then (she calls him ‘king of random funny talk/gaedrip’). He apparently did stuff like walking around with a rubber glove on his head like a chicken. He was lively and made others laugh. He used to go up to the quieter kids to talk to them. He sang well in noraebang, and sang at school festivals. He was popular among the school hoobaes. His best friends called him “diarrhea” (from ‘byun’). He was pretty good at studying too, apparently was the all-rounder type. People who knew him, when they heard he was debuting from SM, said that they knew he’d make it, because he was diligent and well-mannered. The classmate adds that she thinks it’s natural as well, that someone who was good to others has good things happen to him. OP adds: This is a commentary by an actual acquaintance, who knows him better than people who only see him beyond a screen without having even a 5 min talk with him. It’s not common that a celeb’s acquaintance bothers to write such a long and kind verified account. And not everyone has pictures of even pretty close friends (hinting that the classmate must have been reasonably close to B to have pics of him).

2. Baekhyun according to a tutor’s family (This is also old, from 2012.) Baekhyun used to be tutored at the account poster’s house. He talked so much that the tutor (the poster’s mother) would say “let’s start lessons” but he’d say “oh teacher there was this one more thing” and chatter away. B copied funny celebrity poses and danced funny dances. He really liked babies, and it was when the poster’s baby brother was young enough to be crawling around, and B sat on the floor with the baby and read picture books to him and wiped his drool, etc. (Picture of B’s signature says “Thank you for always cheering me on, teacher! Be healthy!”) OP adds that this episode shows how caring and sweet Baekhyun is, that he knows how to give love just like he received. OP also adds Ryeowook’s comment that B was the first to send him a Happy New Year text, and that B always adds “I love you” to the end of text messages. OP says (in a sad tone) why people who don’t even know B personally drag him to the stake when those around him say such good things about him

If People still think he is bad after all these I really don’t know what to do with you people.

[poweredbydietcoke]

Gobi March 2017 Race Report

TL;DR this is going to be really, really long as I attempt to cover months of race prep, gear selection, travel to western China, gear replacement, the race, the people, and the lessons...so be warned. The summary is this: three of us (Mark Gilbert, Angela Zäh, and I) trained (not enough), traveled to the Gobi Desert in far western China (losing only one bag of gear in the process), and ran ~250km and 4000m of vertical in conditions varied from cold pouring rain to brutal sun and heat up to 48*C (119*F), carrying all of our supplies (except water and tents) on our backs for the 6 days. And we enjoyed it! 

The event was reasonably well-run (the race organizers were in a little over their heads, I think, but also faced a ton of challenges planning a race of this scale in China, especially with the local government; the medical team was clearly A+ and seemed to bleed over into actually managing large parts of the race, which was incredibly helpful) and the 107 competitors who started were awesome and totally fun. Probably the best part of the entire event was getting to hang out in the mountains & deserts for a week with these people and become friends. It's always amazing to me how well people work together when they're faced with a big challenge, and the amount of sharing (of advice, gear, food, you name it) to make sure everyone made it was fantastic.   

Origin Story

This whole idea (for us) started late on New Year's Eve of 2015, when Mark and his sister-in-law Sue were looking for a challenging event for the year (recall that the past N years, Mark and I along with various other friends have always picked something silly to do without really training enough ... Mallorca 70.3, IM Australia, etc). Sue's challenge was the Gobi March or another Ironman in Capetown (I think). Mark texted me and offered the options, and I said we'd just done an Ironman, let's do something else, so we agreed to do Gobi (neither of us had imbibed at all by this point, of course). With all that was going on at work and only a few months to train for the 2016 event, we ended up doing a 50k together in Wyoming to train (and I did my first 100mi in Arizona), and signing up for Gobi 2017. Vlad Fedorov of course agreed to join us, and he dragged poor Angela into the mix before abandoning her, as he was forced to stay back in SF to handle a couple things (in his defense, Angela ran the 400m hurdles and the 800m in college, so she clearly enjoyed pain already). 

Training

Being such dedicated athletes with loads of free time, we promptly wrote out and followed extensive training plans to the T ... largely consisting of weekly red-eyes to New York (our equivalent of sleeping in an altitude chamber -- it literally is), walking 1x1s during the day, and trying lots of different hydration options (white wine, red wine, rum & coke, whiskey). By the time the race was only a few months away, we were convinced we were in peak shape, but our better halves ganged up on us and forced us to another level of training we didn't even know existed. I started running with a 20lb weight vest to simulate the pack I'd be wearing (which looks like an odd cross between a bulletproof vest, and a suicide-bomber vest ... got some very strange looks running in that + my tights on the Embarcadero in San Francisco), Mark started carrying his pack with extra weight once we finally acquired packs...and we even tried a few of the freeze-dried meals we planned to eat on the course (those turned out great). In the end I'd say our training was actually more than adequate for our goal (to finish), although not nearly enough if we'd wanted to be competitive.

Race Format

This type of race (particularly the 4 Deserts series) have an interesting format. You start in a campsite on a Saturday night, and start racing Sunday morning. The first four days are roughly a marathon each (technically it increases every day from ~35km to ~45km, but it's close), and then the fifth day is called the Long March (~80km, or 50 miles), which you have a total of 30 hours to complete (bleeding into the sixth day, which is a rest day for people who finish quickly), and the seventh day is a "victory lap" that makes up the last of the 250km (usually ~10km). Of course all of this planning goes up in smoke given the weather and the government, but more on that later. 

Gear

The race organizers required every competitor to carry a fixed list of mandatory gear -- you could choose the exact item, but it had to fulfill certain requirements (a sleeping bag rated to 32*F or below, a waterproof jacket, etc), and then you could choose to carry extra gear on top of that (more food, a sleeping pad for comfort, etc)...but everything you choose to carry is on your back and added weight, and the more weight you carry, the more calories you burn, and therefore the more food you need to carry, meaning the more weight you carry again, and so on (we called this the "rocket fuel problem"). In the end the lightest pack I saw was about 7.5kg, and the heaviest were upwards of 15kg (hint, your pack weight was directly and strongly correlated to your finishing position -- the lower the weight, the lower your time). Mine ended up weighing in at 9.6kg without water, Mark's was about 10.4kg, and I think Angela's was high 8s. 

If you're interested in the gear or are planning to do this race (or something like it), read this post in detail...if you don't care, skip it, because it will get boring fast. :)  Food

As mentioned above, they required you to carry a minimum of 14,000 calories a day, or 2,000 calories per theoretical day you were on the course. Really, though, you're going to want more than that (at my height and weight, roughly 6' and 200lbs, I probably burn 2,500 calories a day *without* running), but the good news is, you're not really running 7 days. Saturday night and Sunday morning you're in camp 1, so you don't need to count that weight -- it's never in your pack for a run. Friday is a rest day, so you don't need that many calories; and Saturday is an easy 10km to the finish line (and it doesn't count for official results, so most people walk/jog it together rather than racing), so worst case you could do that with no food and just plan on eating a lot at the finish line. Of course cutting this too close could cause you problems if/when plans change. :) 

I settled on roughly 19,000 calories for the week, broken down like this: 

(Yes, everyone has pretty complex spreadsheets to manage this, including calorie distribution per day, weight-per-gram trade offs, when to eat, etc).  I ended up planning on about 800 calories for breakfast each day (we were usually up by 6am for an 8am race start, so plenty of time to get warm food in), about 1200 calories on the course / right after, and another 800 calories for dinner, with more calories on the day before/of the Long March, a lot less for rest day, and 400 calories for breakfast on the last day. 

Aside from United losing 6800 calories of that (which Mark & I were able to replace in Shanghai with mostly ramen and oatmeal ... happily all of my bars/gels/powders were in my carry on, as those would have been much harder to replace), I think I did pretty well on food. 800 calories turns out to be about the most I could get down for breakfast, but not too much at all...some people brought 1200 calorie breakfasts but were getting really sick of them by the end and couldn't finish them. The Mountain Home breakfast skillet was the best, and savory was much better than sweet (eg porridge-type stuff) where possible. 800-1000 calories for dinner was great, with the hits being local ramen, Mountain Home beef stroganoff (always a favorite of mine, so much so that when I first started eating freeze-dried meals backpacking 25 years ago, I was convinced I would enjoy it at home in normal circumstances...not so much!), and Mountain Home chili mac with beef (so good!). I also brought a Recoverite to add to my water bottle for every day right after I finished, which seemed to work incredibly well (maybe I just recovered easily/well, but I felt great starting each day). I also brought a desert (dark chocolate cheesecake from Backpacker's Pantry) as a surprise to share with my tent-mates on the rest day, which was nice but in the end not worth it (a couple of us split it and it was fine but not as delicious as we thought it would be given our hunger). 

During the day was a little harder -- every day I took two bars (a Tram Bar from Jackson Hole, and an almond-butter-filled Clif Bar), one Perpeteum, one Heed, and an almond butter packet, and a couple Gu gels for emergency energy. The Clif Bars were great and easy to get down with the almond butter center, but only 250 calories. The Tram Bar at 370 cals was great energy but a little harder to get down, especially when thirsty, and a little too much to take at once but hard to hold onto for two hours since I didn't have a great place on my vest to stash it. In hindsight I might take more Clif and less Tram next time, same number of calories. The only Perpetuem I could find before I left was Orange Vanilla, which was mediocre at best. It has the advantage of 270 cals and 220mg sodium, so it helps with electrolytes as well (a good thing), but it tastes like garbage...so by the end of the Long March I couldn't choke it down without gagging and risking vomiting (which would make things much worse because you lose all your hydration + calories + electrolytes and start over). 

Next time I'd find a better flavor (strawberry? Both my Recoverite and Heed were strawberry and great) and train with it more to make sure I could get down 3-4 packets on a long day (1 was easy, and 2 was doable, which was my training max). The Heed was a nice change, but with only 100 cal and 70mg sodium I might drop it next time for just more Perpetuem if I can stomach it. And the almond butter was unnecessary on most days (a lot of it went to Mark who had brought more meals and fewer daytime snacks), but worked well when I wanted it / used it. The gels were a lifesaver (most of them went to Mark), I'd have brought a few more next time for quick fixes especially when I bonked on the Long March (happily Angela force-fed me a Stroupwaffle since I was out of my own gels)...they turn out to be not that dense (weight-per-calorie) so not great for the bulk of your calories, but good for speed-of-absorption. 

To replace electrolytes (salt++) in the heat, I was relying primarily on Perpetuem supplemented by Endurolyte salt pills (80mg per two)...these worked fine but were annoying (I was scarfing them 4 at a time during the hot days), and next time I'll switch to Nuun or Gu Hydration...they dissolve in water with 320mg per tablet, and although they make me burp occasionally (because of the carbonation they introduce, I assume) if I can find a flavor I like they are much easier. Lots of the faster guys were using Tailwind for nutrition, which was like a denser Perpetuem combining more calories with more sodium, so I plan to try that going forward. 

Finally, Mark & I both brought 12x Starbucks Via instant coffee for the mornings (we each only had one per morning, leaving us lots of extras to give someone else and make them happy -- for a few grams per packet, this is so worth it). Mark specified "Italian or French, dark roast only, with powdered milk" so he lived the high life, while I just drank whatever I'd found (a medium roast Colombian) and did just fine. :) We also each threw in a few cubes of chicken bullion, which has a lot of salt but not many calories, for cold nights when we were hungry ... totally worth it, both for ourselves and to share (put these in a separate bag as they turn out to be super oily). Angela brought a small bottle of olive oil to add to food for flavor + calories (it's super calorically dense), which was an amazing idea (mine was once again United'd so I had to borrow). Mark brought a small container of salt which was also helpful. 

Getting There

The race itself started in Hami, a "small" town of half a million in the rural western Chinese province of Xinjiang...this a lesser-known version of Tibet, with lots of "interesting" political situations (Mark said that when he lived in Shanghai, the internet in this province was "turned off" for two solid years). To get there, we all met up first in Shanghai (Angela & I went direct, Mark went through LA, Seoul, fourteen other places, and then to Shanghai) and spent a night at Le Royal Meridien. Thinking it would be hard to screw up a bag on a direct flight, I checked my knife, hiking poles, bottles of olive oil for us, and stupidly also put some of my food, sleeping pad, and camp clothes/shoes in there because I had space. Of course it stayed in San Francisco for an extra few days and by the time it made it to Shanghai, I was in the middle of the Gobi. Oh well -- Mark made a trip to Decathalon to get some stuff he needed anyway, Angela borrowed a mat and poles from Luke for me, and I found a grocery to stock up on ramen etc. 

We then hopped on Juneyao Airlines for the flight to Urumqi (or Wulumqi, depending on how you transliterate), the capital of Xinjiang province, and all carried on / managed to make it with all our gear, and crashed at the Sheraton for a night (clearly the most happening place in this rural metropolis of 3-4M people). The next day we took the high-speed (3.5 hour) train to Hami, which included another two security screenings (everywhere has outside magnetometers + X-ray to get into the building, then the normal travel checkpoint, as well as a few passport checks to control movement of people), where people finished their sewing...leaving the train station we got detained for a while by the police who were surprised to see a bunch of gweilos in this area (to say it's an occupied province is to put it lightly, the tensions between the Han Chinese and the native Uighurs appears to be quite high), but we'd made friends with some of the other (native Chinese) competitors on the train who spoke both perfect English, Mandarin, and some of the local dialects, and they very helpfully sorted it out for us before getting us all in taxis to the hotel...thanks guys! 

(photo credit Angela)

Saturday at the hotel was occupied with race briefings, gear checks, medical checks, running out to get anything you were missing in the market (Mark and I went out to buy cheap pocket knives ... it seems you’re not supposed to have knives in this province, though, as there are magnometers and X-rays at the entrance of every single shop/building ... amusingly if you walk through with your bag on your shoulder and keep going, people rarely say anything ... but in the end the helpful shopkeeper wrote us a note saying we needed the knives to cut fruit in case anyone stopped us. When in China...)

Saturday afternoon we boarded busses for the three hour drive to the start and found ourselves in a beautiful yurt campground at the base of some large mountains. We were supposed to change camps every night as we progressed along the original Silk Road, over the mountains, and out into the desert, but the government had other plans, "for our own safety." So instead for the first four days we'd pack up everything, leave the camp (which was sometimes guarded by very bored-looking local police in whatever dark clothing they could cobble together, with every group of 4-5 guys issued one shield, one baton, one vest that said SWAT, and one belt that said SWAT ... not kidding ... and they always faced inward, not outward), run a while, and then return to the same camp. 

(photo credit unknown)

Anyways, we'd pack up, go run 40km, and then come right back to the same camp. At least it was, aside from the pit toilets, quite a nice place to be!  Saturday night at camp we got our first chance to meet our tent-mates for the week. Beside Mark, Angela and I, we had Ben & Richard, both British ex-pats living in Hong Kong, and serious runners -- Ben would finish the race 5th, and Richard 9th. Then Aussie Mark, who also lived in HK with Ben & Richard, Michael (an American who lived in Singapore with Chevron and was just moving back to SF with Google), and Donald, a retired Scottish policeman from Edinburgh who ran everywhere in amazing Tartan shorts, and whose lovely wife was volunteering to help out with the race. We'd have a chance to spend a lot of time together, on and off the course, over the week, and we couldn't have asked for a better group -- I would happily do another week or more of racing with every single person in that tent, which is saying something given the pain and smells we endured! 

We also got to start hanging out with the race's wonderful medical team, six doctors (all seemingly Stanford emergency- or trauma-affiliated, and all with wilderness/backcountry backgrounds) who would precede and follow us everywhere and help with everything from the smallest blister to people passing out on the course, always with a smile and a word of encouragement. Doc Julie led the team, along with her husband Doc Adam -- both of them live in Salt Lake City and work with a friend of mine from undergrad, Nick Kanaan (turns out that Nick had volunteered for Gobi a few years ago and all the docs knew him, which was funny). Adam had previously raced in a 4 Deserts race (the Sahara, I think) and Julie had worked a bunch of them. Avi was the other old-timer, I think this was his 8th race, and it turns out that he lived about 2 blocks from me in San Francisco; Patrick, Michael Shaheen, and Alexis (all from Stanford, some now at San Diego I think) rounded out the team on the younger side...and all were fantastic. 

After our first freeze-dried meal on Saturday night (note to self, next time bring good fresh food for that first meal!) and an early bedtime, we were up at 5:30am Sunday to start getting ready. Breakfast, a race briefing at 7:30am, and onto the busses at 8:00am to head to the start line (we would start elsewhere and run back to camp on day 1, given our newly confined schedule). It was only supposed to be 35km and 600m of climbing, and given the changed plans, promised to be even shorter and less climbing that planned...so it seemed easy. Wrong attitude. 

It all started out pretty easy and downhill, and we ran the first while to get ahead of the pack. The first few legs were fast and fun, and on pretty good terrain, until we hit the last aid station at the base of the Barkhol sand dune. It was a strange but gorgeous collection of dunes in the middle of the plains, the tallest one being probably 300-400m tall, and we were going up one ridge, along the top, and down the other end. But it's ok, only 12km to go and a little sand. The first approach was easy, but quickly got very steep very fast, and all of us went anaerobic just trying to make forward progress (each step slid back a good percentage of the distance you covered), wearing us out before we made the first ridge line. Our low gaiters with Velcro turned out to be no match for sand that was mid-calf, so our shoes were quickly filled, and the temps were climbing past 35*C, but we made it up and trekked along the ridge lines, up and down along the dune. Breathtaking views 

(photo credit Angela)

We found the end and tumbled down, having a lot of fun on the descent until we hit the base and realized we had a lot more sand to wade through, and camp was a lot farther away than we thought! I stopped to empty my shoes and tape a toe that had started to rub in the sand (happily it would actually improve and heal entirely during the week!), and we kept pushing on. An hour or two later we were seemingly no closer to the camp, and I started to regret my decision not to keep any Endurolytes in the front of my pack...by 5km to go I was starting to get kind of out of it, but Mark stuck next to me, forced me to take some more (I kept thinking we were close enough just to tough it out), and made it home only losing a few minutes of time. That left us the rest of the day to hang out in camp and get to know people, which was consistently fun.

Day 2 started early again

with a 7:30am briefing and 8:00am departure straight from camp...4km down a gravel road before we turned up into the forest and started climbing the mountains, ultimately up to 2900m. We were supposed to continue straight through the pass and down the other side, but plans change, and we were running out-and-back...all good, at least it was pretty! We cruised out to the base of the climb pretty fast and then just dug into the switchbacks, trying not to be offended when mountain goats passed us...but we made good time together to the middle checkpoint at the pass, almost 20km and 1200m in under four hours with pretty full packs. We passed the race leaders on their way back as we were starting the final climb, stopped to refill at the top, and a torrential downpour started. 

Waterproof jackets on and start hammering down...Angela started to chill so she went ahead to keep moving fast and stay warm, and I hung back a bit with Mark, and we just cruised down and back. All in all a nice day, and the rain wasn't too bad. Back in camp we took over the fires to dry everything (clothes, shoes, backpacks) and passed out early. I think this was the night that both Mark and Angela decided / were convinced that carrying deodorant was a waste of weight, and so got rid of it (the rest of us never even tried). Of course from then on we complained about Angela's lack of deodorant... 

Day 3 was a bus to the start, and a bus home. Yuck. But the terrain was maybe the most consistently beautiful we had all week, a river valley up and down about 1000m, so life was good. We started in a slightly gray morning and climbed up and up and up through this valley, cresting the top a few hours in. Angela cruised ahead again to stay warm, and Mark and I started the descent...it started to warm up but Mark had hammered on the way up and seemingly didn't cool down enough on the way down, as he started to overheat. By 7km to go he was hating life and couldn't stop shivering (despite it being 27*C outside and wearing lots of layers), so we stopped by one of the roving 4x4 support vehicles, got his feet up, and got Doc Adam on the radio...he was there pretty quickly and immediately said "heat exhaustion", got him de-layered and in the shade, a cold Pepsi for a quick sugar hit, and we were back on our way down within the hour. We were pushing it closer to the cutoff times than we wanted, but made it easily and on the last bus back to camp, where the whole tent helped sort out gear, get it dry, get food ready, and generally speed up recovery. 

Day 4 was another out-and-back from camp, which was nice to avoid busses and see other people on the course, despite not being as much new scenery. 1.5km on a gravel road down to the forest, 6km through the forest out into the plains, up the foothills through a lot of pasture to some lower hills, and then down a beautiful valley on the other side to the 22.5km mark, turn around and do it again. It would be about 45km with another 1200m of climbing, which suited us given SF-based hill training, and the temperatures would stay down well under 40*C for another day, which was nice. Given the cold day and our pace, Angela hammered ahead to stay warm (if you get cold it's really, really hard to get warm again) and Mark and I just took it easy on the way out...Angela would end up finishing as second woman that day, I think, and emerge as a dark-horse contender for the overall race if she wanted it). 

We climbed to the first checkpoint in 2.5 hours, just under the cutoff, and then did the second leg in 3 hours out to CP2, where Adam was waiting for us to check in. The previous day's exhaustion had also hammered Mark's feet (when you get tired your form goes, and blisters start/take hold), so the climb out was torture for him, in addition to the exhaustion and not a lot of time to recover...feeling as if he was just going to repeat day 3, he sadly (but very intelligently) decided to call it at CP2 and ride back with the 4x4s. I loaded up on water and advice from Adam and left CP2 in 104th place for the return journey, 22.5km and lots of climbing to get back, and only 2.5 hours to make the cutoff for CP3. I was feeling great, though, and passed almost 30 people on the way to CP3 in 1:45 flat...I barely broke stride going through to refill my bottles and keep pushing home. I passed another 25 people on the last leg to finish 49th on the day, in a little under 3:30 for the return trip. It was a huge bummer to lose Mark but a really smart decision not to risk it, and the trip back turned out to be a lot of fun even solo. Stopped by at the end to hang out with the docs and say thanks, and ended up lucking into some sprayable painkiller for the small shin splints that had developed on my legs. Better living through chemicals! 

Day 5 turned into a rest day with our new plans, so we slept in until 8 or 9am, had a leisurely breakfast, and we all tried to stay out of the sun and rest. Our yurt basically spent the day inside reading, laughing (my sister would send me a really bad running joke every day, which I would happily relay to a large chorus of groans), and napping, as we got ready for a midnight bus departure to the start line of the Long March. Most memorable quote of the race: 

Donald: "does anyone have any extra salt I can put in my lunch?" Richard: "you could wring out one of my socks in there, I'm sure it has plenty of salt." 

And Laura's jokes: 

What's Forest Gump's password? 1forest1 

What do you get if you run in front of a car? Tired What do you get it you run behind a car? Exhausted 

It might be hard to picture from here, but we were having a blast. :) We had a leisurely lunch and went back to sleep, an early dinner and back to sleep, and then woke up around midnight to make more food (we were all furiously trying to recalculate our food plans to have enough calories on a pre-long-march rest day and still have enough food for the long march, and there was a lot of trading / sharing of food) and get on the busses. Our government protectors decided we couldn't leave yet, so we sat around until 1:30am or so and finally pulled out in a giant convoy of flashing lights for the slow drive to the start...finally arriving sometime around 5:30am. Quick pit stop, top off water bottles, and it was time to go. Angela & I decided to stick together for the long march, with a strategy of running as much as we could early in the morning before it got hot to put in some distance, and then just a forced march during the peak heat until it cooled off or we finished. 

We pulled away early, scarily close to the leaders, and ran a lot through the first two checkpoints and 26km before it started to get hot and we backed off a bit. By the third checkpoint at 37km it was getting hot, and the next 6km through a dry, still wadi were an absolute slog (at least for me)...at some point I managed to pee and it was a dark brown-yellow, which is never a good sign, and I'd already consumed over 7L of water in 6 hours. We made it to CP4 by 12:45pm, where we were forced to stop for 3 hours (the race implemented a mandatory 3 hour rest for everyone given the heat)...which was amazing. 29 people made it to CP5 for the stop, 20 people at CP4 (we were numbers 4 and 5 to make it there), and the rest stayed back at CP3. Flat on our backs in the shade (which at this point was 45*C ... rumor had it that a thermometer in the sun read 56*C, but the highest confirmed temp I heard was 48*C), with an amazing volunteer (Katya) walking around the tent with a spray bottle in each hand for three hours, misting water on us, and trying to get in more water, electrolytes, and calories. Talked to Adam about my water consumption and tried to up it even more (by the end of the day I consumed almost 20L) and then it was time to get back to it. As each person got ready to leave, Adam would quietly go over and say "drink some of your water...ok now give me the bottle", and come back a minute later with a few ice cubes in the top. Cool water never tasted so good (most of the water on the course by this point was 40-45C at least).

Back on the trail and we were feeling pretty refreshed after a break and lots of water, so we pushed through to CP5 at a decent pace given the temperature (through all of this Angela appears basically unaffected to me and barely drinking water, although she promises it was hard). At some point in here we stopped to perform some more shoe surgery on her heel to free up the Achilles, which was a nice 2min break in the one piece of shade we saw. 

Making it to CP5 I decided it was the opportune time to use Laura's latest joke, which I'd received on the satcom during the rest stop...we walked into the tent and I told the lead volunteer that I'd started hallucinating on the course. She looked concerned and called for the doctor, Avi, as I told her I'd seen a talking pig (Angela is rolling her eyes), and he told me that I needed to help him because "he was bacon out here." It took her about ten seconds to process just how bad of a joke it was and that I wasn't in fact hallucinating (which made it even funnier), just enough time for Avi to arrive and pronounce that I did in fact need treatment if I was telling jokes that were that bad...and quickly launch into his own series of bad jokes (all of which he blamed on Nick). We had a blast telling dumb jokes for 10 minutes in the shade while we nursed our surprise Pepsis from the medical team (they brought enough for every single competitor to get one at CP5!)...the best one: "What do you call someone who tells bad jokes but isn't a dad? A faux pas" 

(photo credit unknown)

Before it was time to head back onto the course. The Pepsi carried us through the next 10km to CP6, where Donald's wife was waiting (we'd seen him at CP4 during the rest stop and he was doing ok, if hot, which she was happy to hear), a quick (to me, maybe 10-15min in real terms?) shade and water break and back on the trail to CP7. We saw Dirk, one of the race leaders, at CP6, where he'd unfortunately been forced to drop out due to heat exhaustion...he'd spent an hour sitting in a 4x4 with the AC running and still couldn't stop hyperventilating, so he decided to call it, and was just starting to recover by the time we arrived. :( 

I tried to get my last Perpetuem down on this leg and just couldn't, so by the time we were a few km from CP7 I started to run out of gas, hard. Electrolytes and water were ok, but I just hadn't had enough to eat for the day (or at least not enough simple sugars that didn't require too much blood to digest, since it was mostly busy carrying oxygen to my legs)...I tried to push through it again to get to CP7 (because the first thing a bonk does is make you dumb), but happily Angela forced me to eat, first one of her sugar-filled waffles and then one of my Clif bars, so that by the time we crawled into CP7 I had some calories in my stomach to start digesting. 

CP7 was a war zone, with at least 6 people splayed out all over the floor passed out and trying to recover from heat, electrolytes, calorie deficits, etc. I got another bar in and laid on my back for 20min to get some calories to digest before we picked up and moved again, just as the sun started to set. We had 11km along a road to go to the finish, and we just forced-marched it under headlamps. We'd long ago given up talking much, instead favoring simple "thumbs up" for "you good? I'm good", hands flat and wiggling for "I'm so-so", and happily never getting to thumbs-down, but we kept moving, I managed to get my Heed down, Angela's Achilles stayed ok, her knee didn't get much worse, and we crossed the finish line just before midnight on Friday. Ben and Richard had crossed the line together just before sunset, Michael was probably an hour ahead of us at 23rd, and we finished 26th and 27th for the day. Mark was already there having helped out at camp and the aid stations during the day, and they'd all claimed a big tent for us near the finish line. After a few minutes of catching up and joking, getting weighed and prodded for medical tests, and chugging our almost-cool finish line Pepsis and waters, we were all fast asleep by 12:30am. 

Unfortunately that didn't last long, as we were rudely awakened by a huge sandstorm that started to collapse our tent around 3:15am. We traded off holding the tent in place while everyone hurriedly packed their kit, and then hung out in the tent for a bit debating what to do while the wind whipped around outside and quickly destroyed about half the camp. We decided with all the metals poles flying around we were probably safer away from the tent, so everyone loaded up and we made a run for the leeward side of a big rock formation nearby, where the winds were lower and there were fewer flying projectiles. We made our little post-apocalyptic refugee camp there and were gradually joined by more and more people from collapsed tents...at least it was cool (ish) outside! 

We all had our buffs wrapped around our faces 

And dozed in and out between brief sleep and chatting all night, curled up on some shared sleeping pads. The last finisher finally crossed about 9:45am (happily under a huge cloud of dust, the sun stayed slightly hidden and the temperatures stayed lower, probably under 40*C), we all got up to run the final "victory lap" (which was really just so the race organizers could get marketing photos, so it was cut down to probably under 1km) and cross the official finish line together to get soda, beer, and bowls of real food (rice, veggies, and a little unspecified meat). 

(Donald at the finish line, photo credit Donald’s wife Elaine?)

30 minutes later we were all ready to get on the busses and head back to Hami, which was a solid 2+ hour drive. 

And that was it. We got back to the hotel, drank beer in the hallways while we waited for our rooms to be ready, enjoyed very long showers, drank more beer while we waiting for dinner, had a great big banquet (of course our yurt all sat together...it was strange to us that most tents didn't), drank more beer in the lobby, and passed out. 

(Photo credit Angela)

The travel home was less eventful, although fun to do a lot of it with these groups of people we'd gotten to know so well. The trains to Urumqi were easy, although the security checks caught some more stuff (people just cared less), we just kept walking and didn't stop. :) The airport at Urumqi was clearly on high alert, as they ran each of our carry-ons at least 4 times, and to their credit (as annoying as it was, because it was pointless), they found almost everything that we weren't supposed to have (those sewing scissors and hiking poles were clearly a threat) and ended up with a large haul of stuff for themselves. Back in Shanghai after a few-hour delay we had a day to rest, get massages, and eat, and now on the plane back to SF. 

Lessons Learned

I mentioned a bunch inline above, but fundamentally this was an exercise in logistics and training more than anything else ... no individual race day was that challenging by itself (granted I finished in the mid-40s place-wise and not top-10, where I'm sure the running itself was much more challenging), and if you had a lightweight pack, managed your nutrition well, and took care of your feet every day, you seemed to have a pretty good chance of finishing well (modulo heat & exhaustion issues like Mark faced--I think he might have been sick at the same time, because he was eating and drinking well all day). Then it's just a matter of persistence, but even less of that is required here than in eg. a straight 100-miler. 

I did find this race format far more enjoyable than a one-day 100-miler, I think largely because of the camaraderie on the trail and in camp. It would be cliche and dramatically exaggerated to say I made best-friends-for-life in this race, but I certainly made another 5 friends who I look forward to visiting around the world as our paths collide. 

In the end I could have carried a little less food, as I think I only lost about 10 pounds over the course of the race (I wouldn't skimp on on-course food, but less weight for dinner and run a higher calorie deficit at night would have worked). This would have been less weight, and let me run less conservatively on the first few days, probably saving a lot of time. Only one toenail (so far) fell victim to the trails, and a few annoying blisters on the last day, but remarkably few given the terrain and mileage and they're already largely healed. And the hotel in Hami collected a large pile of donated/trashed gear...my beloved shoes (complete with an extra lining of velcro for the gaiters) were pushing 600 miles and didn't make the return trip, along with the gaiters themselves (wouldn't use that style again, and they were trashed), my socks (biohazard), running top (likewise), and camp clothes and shoes I'd purchased cheaply in Urumqi along with the crappy folding knife from Hami. And, of course, Luke's poles he so generously loaned me, confiscated by the crack airport security team (happily, only on the return trip!)...Luke, I still owe you a beer (or many) for those poles!

[write-rhiwind-blog]

The Con: End

Recently I’ve been somewhat trapped. I trapped myself in a relationship with a boy, I met through our mutual friend at a sushi restaurant, and I fell instantly. Everything else around me disappeared. We became quick friends because we got along great. Plenty of common interests and laughing. The three of us became quite close smoking and skating together along with other hooliganry. In fact the first night I even met him. We all almost went to jail, like I said hooligans. But we didn’t. So we celebrated by getting more fucked up and skating down hill at top speeds with sliding gloves. Well, he did anyway. Mutual friend and I stayed back and drove the car down to meet him. Only to find out he biffed it right at the bottom and tore his elbow up. Of course being the caring person I am. I jump to tend to his wounds. After laughing and taking pictures of course. Later after he injured himself again. All three of us hanging out turned into him and I hanging out every single day, even at least a little bit even when we told ourselves we wouldn’t. We ended up in bed quite fast. Faster than I’d like to admit.. it didn’t matter that he had a girlfriend at the time for some reason. And I’m not normally that type of girl.. He had told me about her, she was constantly belittling him, stressing him out. He showed me messages of how rude she would be sometimes. But their situation prevented him from being able to leave her.. I got so upset every single time I’d see or hear of her treating him like trash then kissing up to get what she wanted from him. I hated the way she manipulated him. So I always calmed him down, made sure he was comfortable and taken care of. He’s kind of a health nut, so he’s constantly drinking water. Honestly this boy is so nuts about water, it’s kind of adorable. Only purified drinking water though. So I always made sure he had some when he was thirsty. He also really likes natural medicines like flower concentrates and coconut oil. So I’d just listen to him spew off facts about that and any other little thing he learned on Reddit. I loved it though. I’m getting off topic. I always wanted him to be happy, I wanted to be his happy place. Eventually his girlfriend who is also cheating on him, just like he was her.. decides she would rather go hangout with another guy than him. (Again) It broke his heart. Because despite the way she treated him. For some odd reason he was still so in love with her. But it hurt him really really badly, more than he would admit at the time.. And he ended up staying with me that night. We just hung out with my roommates, trying to keep his mind off of it smoking and laughing yanno. I can’t remember but Im pretty sure we just cuddled and held each other real close all night.. now that he was free from the relationship that stressed him every time it was even brought up. We were together, all the time. Neither of us had jobs. He had been struggling for some months, and I was newly unemployed due to the massive amount of turmoil erupting in my life. So it was just us. Living off what we had. Kind of just messing around all the time. Having fun, going to sprouts just to look around and get a sandwich. He loved sprouts, so he would always tell me little facts about this drink or that organic coffee. But hes also kind of an expert thief.. he doesn’t do anything more than little trinkets or alcohol. But he’s good. Real good. And the two of us were Bonnie and Clyde with out a doubt (yes I am ashamed of my actions but it was exhilarating and new. Wild and spontaneous, judge me). So if we weren’t doing that we were celebrating. Or driving to wherever just to chill and smoke a joint, because he was also an expert at rolling. Or laid up at my apartment watching movies or playing GTA. Well he was. I just laid in his lap and cheered him on, he’s really fricken good at that game. We even cooked dinner for us and my roommates. Cleaned up the kitchen afterwards like real adults. It was amazing. We took my pupper to the dog park. Who actually ended up being more his son than my dog anymore. It was so great, everything about him was so great. My dog loved him, I’d introduced him to my entire family (which says a lot because my family is full of interesting and unsavory characters) and they all loved him and he loved them.. we never ever argued. Not a single time, it was almost like we just understood each other. I knew when he was uncomfortable. Like certain social situations. I saw this boy in so many different lights, a million different sides. His hungry side, because trust me, he isn’t himself on an empty stomach. A man completely motivated by food. Yet, he was still fit and lean. I’d seen his charming and cleaned up version. His silly stoned, reckless character. His comedic side, which is almost always prominent. I always fell even harder for him when he’d take a silly joke too far. Others made fun of him or stared awkwardly but I lived for it. His silly jokes taken too far were always my favorite, even though I’d never let him know that. I’d also seen him cry because of the guilt that haunts him because he knows he’s a sinner and how he wants to change himself but is unsure how. Being so interested in psychology, I was so fascinated by such a character as him. We came from slightly similar backgrounds. He even compared me to him when he was 18 several times. He is 20, I am 18. I felt perfectly content with him, I was comfortable in my own skin around him. I felt safe and happy, everything I could ask for was there. Eventually he got hired as a server at a nice restaurant, perfect for his charismatic self. Things were working out. I gave him the space he needed to cope and be comfortable. Completely understanding that he doesn’t trust easily.. but a little over a month after him and her had broken up. He had to move back in with her. The situation that I mentioned prior, well he lived with her and her parents. He owed them rent money and needed to pay it off.. I trusted him with my whole heart at this point. Of course I didn’t want him to move away from what we had started. But he reassured me that nothing would change him and I would still see each other and he would come back and we could live together again. I had no reason not to believe him. Over just 2 months of knowing him at this point. I had already started to fall for him and everything he was. He moved back in. We hung out still just like he said. The first night I dropped him back off at home, he kissed me goodbye for a real long time and told me he was happy to see where this was going with us. The next day he came over same as before. We took a shower together after lunch. He got out early to go get something from the store. And when I got out, I saw he had left his phone. I wanted to take a cute picture for him as I do often. I never ever would have thought to look through his phone. I trusted him and saw no reason for it. But when I unlocked his phone.. it was already all right there for me to see.. they had started talking again. Not romantically. Sexually. And reading the sexts between the two of them made me physically ill. My heart shattered in that very instant. Along with my trust, that would never be fully repaired. And that’s how it started. The downfall and the falling out of love. After that he didn’t hesitate to mention that we hadn’t yet put an official label on us. Even though he was living at my apartment, driving my car, we went on dates, he told people at the restaurants we dine n dashed I was his girlfriend. But nope, it wasn’t official. After this my heart broke over and over again. Because he started to lie to me, he’d never done that before.. he continued to lie to me. Over and over. I had watched him smooth talk waiters and anyone else. He was a magnificent con artist to put it in harsher terms. but when he started to lie to me, I felt no more important than the Apple bee’s waitress he finessed into free food that one night.. I tried so hard to believe him but my gut told me otherwise. I caught him and I got my feelings hurt every single time. At some point I threatened to tell her about him and I, because she still didn’t know.. would I have done it? No. Probably not. But I wanted him to see how hurt I was by his actions and understand how far he was pushing me. I wanted him to feel the consequences of playing these games.. after this he never saw me the same I don’t think. Because our drama drags out for another 2 months up until this very moment as I type this. At some point. My voice became annoying to him, the way I “talk at him” when I’m upset and ranting. I don’t ever know the right time or place for things. I just couldn’t please him anymore. That’s how it felt. I still wanted to make sure he was taken care of, I still wanted to make him happy. But my feelings kept getting hurt when he continued to choose her. I was working and trying for him so much harder than she was. I still took him to work, even moments after wiping my tears from an argument that we’d just had.. I still wanted him to succeed. I didn’t want to stress him out but after being sidelined for so long it just built up. This goes on for what seems like forever. And outside sources started to tell me I should give up on him, “just let him go” “why do you still try” “he’s using you” “he doesn’t care”. Because after learning bits and pieces of so many different things about him, I know that no one ever treated him the way he deserved. I knew that he had to fend for himself. He had to lie for his own survival in the lifestyle he had.. I didn’t want to give up on him like every one else. I wanted to prove to him that he can be loved. There are people who will treat him right. But as time went on, my feelings for him got more invested and more hurt. Me trying to talk about things became me being upset all the time and arguing because he refused to talk about these things. I just became one of his stressors. The one thing I never wanted to be. And that was exactly what I became. Over 4 months, I have fallen in love, fallen apart, fallen out of love. And now I’m putting myself back together again.

((1/14/17))