#make sure to find some time for flesh prison today

[magicalbats]

Situational Awareness (Dan Heng x reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 10,928

Warnings: afab!reader, some gendered language, shower sex, intercrural sex, thigh fucking

A/N: I've been working here and there on a few different projects (including my long overdue Kinktober pieces, worry not!) but in terms of standalone fics I figured this one was done so I may as well post it. Am I doing so at six in the morning when no one is awake to see it? Absolutely. lol I'm not a plumber so please don't come at me about the shoddy pipe excuse btw, haha

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The unmistakable evidence of all your fooling around is laying across the floor in the form of hastily dropped, rumpled towels. They’d hit the ground in a disarranged heap after the fall, but were still clean as far as you could tell. Not that you could really ask for more on the off chance that they weren’t considering the fright you’d just given the staff but … 

Hanging your head, you make the conscious effort to draw a deep, calming breath and come down from the strange high you’d slipped into. You were sweating rather profusely, you’re a bit surprised to find. What had gotten into you? Hotel devils? Surely that was about as absurd as someone climbing into an oddly inviting but no less strange closet as if they’d been personally summoned into its dark depths by some higher force, and yet that was exactly what you’d done. There must have been something seriously wrong with you. 

Perhaps it was the Stellaron inside your body causing problems with the electrical signals in its flesh and blood prison. Or maybe you’d hit your head somewhere along the way and the side effects were only now starting to manifest themselves. Your bet was on the tail end of that showdown with the Doomsday Beast back on the space station. 

Either way, you desperately needed to get it together. 

Straightening up, you send a wary look at the closet in question. Its doors were still thrust open from where you’d leaped out of its (frustratingly inviting) maw some moments ago and there was no denying the faint tug of invitation you could feel trying to coax you back inside but you refused to heed its call. This wasn’t the time or even really the place. You’d let it get the better of you once and that was already more than enough. 

“Relax.” You remind yourself as you inch closer to the closet. Resolutely, you reach out and shut the doors. The compulsion slowly fades to nothing and you’re once again left to your own devices. It comes as a great relief. 

A harried sigh escapes you as you bend to retrieve the fallen towels next. Perhaps you should leave a note of apology out for the staff. Who knows what they were saying about you right now, the strange girl who likes to hide in closets and scare the living daylights out of unsuspecting workers. On second thought, though, maybe you should just pretend like nothing at all had even transpired here today. Admitting to your own strange behavior in writing would rob you of any plausible deniability, wouldn’t it?

Turning that over in your head, you carry the small bundle of towels into the attached bathroom. Set them down on the sink and almost walk right back out before realizing that you should probably take a shower before bed. Not only were you covered in a fine sheen of perspiration from your time spent getting all worked up inside the closet but you were also freezing. You hadn’t noticed it when you were still running hot on adrenaline and nerves, but now you were gradually starting to shiver. 

Just how long had you been crouched inside the cramped dark like that? You really had no idea, as if that part of your memory were an empty cavernous void. It could have been only a few short minutes for all you could tell, or it could have been an eternity. It was impossible to say. 

Pivoting, you reach over the tub and wrench the faucet on. The modestly sized room is instantly consumed by the sound of running water as you step back to shrug out of your jacket and take off your gloves. A moment later you test the temperature with your fingers only to snatch them back with a hiss when you find it still ice cold. That certainly wasn’t going to do. 

In total you spend about twenty minutes fiddling with the steel knobs, trying them in this and then that position to no avail. No matter what you did the water never seemed to get any warmer, finally leaving you with no choice but to simply turn the damn thing off. You almost give up right then and there. In fact, you consider it very, very hard. 

But what ultimately stops you from crawling into bed with nary another thought to the matter is the shuddering chill that’s fallen over you without any of the fast pumping excitement to keep it at bay. You weren’t just cold in the way curling up with a thick blanket could help with. It felt like you were right on the verge of slipping into hypothermia. The thought of laying awake all night shivering nonstop did not sound like the best start to this Trailblaze expedition so you decide to try your luck next door with March. 

She opens up on the third knock, wearing her blue bunny pj’s. 

“What are you doing out here at this time of night? I thought you were room service or something!” 

“Sorry.” You offer her a weak smile, fighting to stop your teeth from loudly clattering. “I think there’s something wrong with the tub in my room. All I can get to come out is cold water.” 

March’s brows take an expeditious trip up to her hairline. “No way, you’re having problems too? I thought it was just me but I didn’t want to be a negative Nelly about it!” 

Her arm lashes out like a striking serpent, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you inside. 

The door bangs shut with a certain amount of indignation as she turns to look at you, worry flashing across her expression when she takes in the faint shudder making your shoulders bunch up. Standing this close to her, you can see that her hair is damp. 

“Were you able to take a shower?” 

“Not a very good one! The hot water only lasted for about fifteen minutes before it started to come out freezing cold!” Huffing, she crosses her arms over her chest. “This place sure does look fancy but I’m so not impressed. What kind of operation do they think they’re running here, huh? Belobog is way too cold for them not to have working hot water tanks!” 

You consider that for a brief moment. “Maybe that’s the problem? If a bunch of people are trying to bathe at the same time and using up all the hot water - -“ 

“Then they should’ve thought of that before they opened up a hotel! I mean, come on. That’s just common sense, right? And more importantly what’s up with you? You’ve been shivering non stop since I opened the door.” 

Don’t tell her about the closet. Don’t tell her about your exploits inside the closet. Whatever you do, do not tell her about that damned closet. 

“I think the chill is just starting to catch up with me.” You tell her, cool as … erm, ice. “I didn’t notice it too much at first but now I can’t stop shaking. I’d really like to take a hot shower.” 

“I bet.” She murmurs. Then, with more enthusiasm, “Come on, let’s see if mine wants to work!”

Taking your hand in hers, March guides you over to her attached bathroom where she flips on the overhead lights. You’re impressed to find it’s an almost identical copy of yours, just mirrored. Actually, they looked like they were directly adjacent to one another and situated along the same wall. But would that in turn mean … they were sharing the same series of pipes? No, that couldn’t be. Such an obvious structural design flaw would have surely raised some questions, wouldn’t it? 

Your attention thoughtfully drifts towards March as she bends over the side of the tub and smacks the faucet on. A  familiar sense of deja vu comes over you when the gurgling sound of running water rushes in to dominate the air but she doesn’t seem to pay it much mind so neither do you. A few seconds pass before she tests the water, clicks her tongue in annoyance and draws her hand back before trying again just another few seconds later. Truthfully March’s impatience had never been quite so glaring as it is right now.  

“Well, isn’t that just ridiculous!” She at last scoffs, evidently deeming the whole endeavor futile and turning the faucet off again. “It wouldn’t be such a big deal if this place wasn’t so cold. How is anyone coming in off the street supposed to get a good night’s rest if they can’t even have a warm shower?” 

You ponder that question with the same weight and consideration as the last one she’d posed. “Maybe they don’t get many visitors? Just think about it. How many times have we heard now that Belobog is the ‘last bastion of humanity’? They probably don’t get much in the way of tourism.” 

Turning, March pins you with an exceedingly strange look. “I don’t think you’re wrong about that but … wouldn’t that mean they’re mostly just keeping this place running for the sake of it? What a waste of resources.” She gives her head a quick shake. “Wait, that’s not important right now. We need to get you warmed up and safely tucked into bed! Do you want me to go down to the lobby with you to check what’s going on?” 

“No, that’s okay.” You quickly wave that off, feeling more than just a little self conscious about causing her any trouble. “It’s already getting late and you need your rest for tomorrow.  It wouldn’t make sense to waste so much time helping me with this when you could be sleeping instead.” 

“Hey, now. The same goes for all three of us. We’re in this together and you’d better not forget that! I don’t mind lending a hand. We are crewmates after all! 

“Thank you, really. But I’m sure I can figure something else out.” 

“Fine, if you’re sure … but at least stop by Dan Heng’s room and see if he’s in the same boat as us. If not, maybe he’ll let you use his shower tonight?” 

“Oh. That’s a good idea.” Consideringly, you start to turn and March follows hot on your heels as you step back out through the doorway. “He went into the room right across from yours, right? Since they’re on opposite sides, maybe I will have better luck.” 

“That’s the spirit! See, you just gotta’ keep your spirits high and everything will work out fine in the end. Isn’t that what they call trusting the process?” 

Pausing in front of the door, you pivot to look back at her. “I don’t think that particular saying applies here.” 

“Oh, whatever. Just go check in with Dan Heng and if he isn’t having any better luck come grab me again, okay? We’ll go down and talk to the receptionist together if we have to!” 

You smile, even though you try very hard not to. “Thanks, March. I really appreciate it.” 

Her voice follows after you as you open the door to see yourself out, a cheerful parting of  ‘good luck!’ following you out into the hall. Of all the warm welcomes you’d been greeted with upon boarding the Express, hers was easily the warmest of them all. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to properly repay her for that but you were certainly going to try. 

Out in the long carpeted corridor, you take a measly three steps to cross over to the opposite side and rap at the heavy wooden door. Dan Heng surprises you slightly when he opens up at the very first knock, almost like he’d been waiting just within.  

“Is something the matter?” 

The stark difference in your two companions' greetings makes something warm flicker to life inside your chest. You’d only known them and the rest of the Astral Express crew for a short while now but it was very much in line with what was quickly becoming comforting and familiar to you. March had been proactive and eager to know what you were doing while Dan Heng seemed to have concluded that something must be wrong if you were coming to his room like this. It was oddly reassuring, in a way. 

“This is probably going to sound like a strange question but have you taken a shower yet?” 

A vague look of confusion flashes across his face and then camps there. He was far from the most animated character you’d met on your journey thus far, but there’s no mistaking the look he levels on you now. 

“I haven’t quite gotten around to it yet.” He says slowly. “I was just jotting down some observational notes in my phone to input in the database later. Why?” 

“I don’t have any proof to back it up but I think March may have taken all my hot water. Our bathrooms are right next to each other.” 

Dan Heng’s expression shifts and settles into a perplexed scowl. “Is that why you’re shaking? You’d think a place like this would understand the importance of resource allocation …” Sighing, he steps to the side. “Come in. We can check it together.”

Feeling the pitter patter of hope skip across your ribcage, you step inside with him. He closes the door and turns the lock in place (paranoid or overly cautious?) before leading you over to the bathroom. None of these hotel rooms are particularly big and the two of you are soon crowding around the porcelain tub together. 

A steady turn of his wrist has the water gushing out, the same scene playing out for the third time in a row. Except it doesn’t take long at all for steam to start rising up from the faucet this go around and you feel like you could just collapse in relief. He still had hot water. You weren’t going to freeze to death after all. 

“There,” He murmurs, straightening to his full height again. “Go ahead and take your shower in here. I’ll be in the other room so just give me a shout if you need anything.” 

Dan Heng starts to turn, making your eyes go big and round with surprise. “But what about you? I don’t want to take up all of your hot water.” 

“It’s fine. I can just grab one after you're done.” 

“No, that won’t work.” You insist, reaching over to smack the faucet back off with a little more force than was strictly necessary. “March said she only had about fifteen minutes before the water started coming out cold. I’m not sure how long ago she took hers but when we checked it was still out of hot water.”

“Hmm,” He appears to hesitate at that, his gaze taking on the thoughtfully introspective look you were starting to recognize as the gears in his head turning. “Could it be that they get so few guests staying here that they just closed off some of the hot water pipes to ensure they don’t keep running? It’s not quite cold enough in the city for them to freeze so I don’t think it would hurt anything …” 

“Right?” You lift your brows in emphasis. “If Belobog is the only human settlement on this planet then what’s the point in keeping an entire hotel up and running?” 

“That’s a good point and I wondered about it as well. Unless this hotel was at one time meant to …” Humming softly under his breath, Dan Heng gives his head a slow shake. “No, there isn’t any point in speculating on that right now. We don’t have enough information to start making inferences. Figuring out what we’re going to do about the current problem should be our priority.” 

A quiet beat passes, loud in the absence of running water. 

“We could always shower together.” 

Dan Heng’s head doesn’t so much as move even a fraction of an inch but his gaze snaps up at you lightning fast. The sharp intensity in his eyes immediately makes you regret saying it. Were you being weird again, despite the absence of the closet to facilitate or otherwise encourage your odd behavior? Or was it really the Stellaron mixing up the radio signals in your brain? You weren’t sure what you would do if you managed to scare him off the same way you’d sent the hotel staff running and screaming. 

“Or,” He intones at length. “We could go down to the reception desk and ask them to look into it for us.” 

“March said the same thing.”

“But?” 

You breathe out a quick huff through your nose. “But that sounds like it might take a while. We’d have to explain what’s going on, have someone come take a look at it and then they’d try to fix it. We already agreed that we’ll have a busy day tomorrow so I don’t want to cause any trouble for either of you. Not if I can help it. This would be the faster solution, right?” 

To his credit, Dan Heng’s expression softens in as much as it ever does. Which admittedly isn’t a whole lot, but it’s enough to be noticeable. “You aren’t causing problems for us. Don’t even give it another thought and, please, don’t ever let March hear you say that. I don’t doubt she’d take it upon herself to personally show you just how untrue that really is. That being said though, I can understand the reasoning. Doing it that way would be quicker.” 

“But?” You volley it right back at him. 

“There’s not actually a ‘but’ here. If you’re sure about it then I suppose I don’t mind going about it this way either. It would certainly get both of us into bed far quicker than any other alternative.” 

You don’t exactly understand the eager thump your heart gives at his acquiescence but you allow yourself to smile up at him when the urge suddenly strikes you full force. “Then it’s settled?” 

A curt nod. “Yes, although I do hope you actually know what it is we’ve just agreed to. If you change your mind at any point don’t hesitate to tell me and I’ll get right out.” 

“Don’t be silly.” You assure him, reaching for the hem of your loose fitted shirt. “I'd never kick you out like that, Dan Heng. Both of us deserve to go to bed nice and warm, and clean.”

He starts to open his mouth — to say what, you’re not sure, because it catches in his throat when you unceremoniously tug your shirt up over your head in one smooth motion. You lose sight of him for a brief moment through the soft knit cotton and by the time you get it pulled completely off he’s pointedly looking elsewhere. Anywhere but at you. 

“Is something wrong?” You quietly venture, a soft note of uncertainty creeping into your voice now. 

“No, it’s fine. Just … hurry up and get undressed so we can get this over with.” Decisively turning his back to you, he starts to shrug out of his long jacket. You hesitate, looking from him to the shirt balled up in your hands and then down at your own chest. A mild pang of relief comes over you at finding your plain black sports bra very much where it should have been. 

So you hadn’t forgotten to put it on. Good. That could have been rather embarrassing for you. 

In the same breath you abruptly realize that you were about to take it off and get naked in the same room with Dan Heng who was already working to get all of his clothes pulled off too. He seemed to understand that well enough. Perhaps even more so than you actually did. So why had he reacted like that when you’d taken off your blouse? Surely it wasn’t all that strange for someone to disrobe in front of another … was it? 

Pondering this conundrum, you carefully watch Dan Heng fold and set his garments aside on top of the sink one layer and one deliberate motion at a time. His coat and the bracer worn on his right arm make up the bottom of the pile, followed by the lightweight hip guards worn around his waist along with the belt that secured it all. The second skin of his tight black shirt comes off next, revealing a smooth back that flexes powerfully with the overhead motion he uses to get it peeled away. It doesn’t escape your notice that, through it all, he makes a point of not looking at you. All of his attention remains forward and locked on the task at hand, neither uninhibitedly baring himself at you nor stealing any lingering glances in your direction. 

It was almost as if in despite of the shared nudity that was inherent in an arrangement like this, he still wanted to give you your privacy. Or as much of it as one could possibly have when bathing with another person. 

Was that what it was then? The root cause of his reaction was … reticence on his part? You hadn’t stopped long enough to consider that or any of the other potential implications that came with it but it seemed Dan Heng very much had. If he was behaving this way then you probably should be too. 

With that decided, you turn away from him and mimic his actions of neatly folding your top. You don’t have anywhere else to put it though so you have to make do with setting it on top of the toilet lid. The following silence is surprisingly rife with some unnamed tension, interspersed only by the near constant rustle of clothes being removed. Your boots, socks, skirt and underwear are all soon discarded, and you have to try very hard not to look when you hear him shuffle towards the tub again. 

“Ready? I’m going to turn the water back on.” 

“Go ahead.” 

The spout turns with a soft creak and the faucet roars to life, loudly spewing water into the basin. Same as before, and much to your relief, it only takes a few moments for steam to begin wafting up from the noisy deluge and start creeping into your periphery. He quickly smacks the plunger down to redirect the stream to the shower head and the bathroom is suddenly at least two octaves quieter than it was before. You could hear yourself think again. Thank goodness for that. 

Silently, Dan Heng steps in first and you quickly scuttle after him. You weren’t keen on losing out on even a single drop of hot water but your refusal to look up from the floor makes actually getting into the shower a bit of an awkward process. You have to feel around with your foot to figure out how close you are and your big toe hits the side of the porcelain a bit too hard, making you hiss through your teeth. Quickly shaking it off though, you lift your leg and blindly step over the rim. 

Only to slip when you come down wrong on the other side, the slick surface ripping you off balance with a gut wrenching lurch. You collapse forward, arms flailing, but Dan Heng is quick to grab hold of you before you can hit the floor. Once all I said done, the only thing you’ve succeeded in doing is smacking your knee into the wall. 

“Owww …”

“What in the world do you think you’re doing? You could have seriously hurt yourself or broken your neck.” He snaps at you, his tone still as mild as it ever is but there’s no mistaking the sharp bite of reprimand lurking just below the surface. You feel vaguely like a troublesome toddler he’s been tasked with babysitting as he hauls you further into the safety of the tub before reaching up to pull the screen closed with a sound click of his tongue. “I was wondering what was taking you so long to get in but I didn’t expect you to jump without even looking first.” 

“I’m sorry,” You murmur, still trying to keep your eyes averted as you carefully work to get your feet situated under you. “I just — I didn’t want to invade your privacy.”

“My privacy?” He echos you, incredulous. “You should have considered that before you suggested us taking a shower together. It’s a little late for it, don’t you think?”

Cautiously slow, you bring your hands up to brace them across his damp chest and gently push. Dan Heng’s hold on you hesitates and then relaxes, letting you pull free so you can take a step back. That his fingers linger at your forearms as if to steady you, or perhaps catch you should you slip and fall again, does not escape your notice, but you decide not to comment on that just yet. Or maybe ever, depending on how the next few minutes played out. 

“Sorry.” It’s all you can think to say now. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for. While I do appreciate the consideration, there’s no getting around the fact we’re going to see each other naked in a situation like this. It’s okay to look.” 

“But?” You whisper into the steady stream of water coming down at his back. 

“No ‘but’s. I’d much rather you look than hurt yourself.” His hands shift, adjusting to loosely grasp your elbows. When he gently tugs you in closer to him, you acquiesce without a fuss. You hadn’t noticed how big they were until now and that makes for an unexpectedly convincing argument to encourage your compliance. “Here, get under the shower head. We should make sure you warm up enough before we run out of hot water.” 

You can’t exactly argue with that when the rising steam only seems to further highlight just how chilled your skin actually is so you let him get you spun around, trading spots. The steady, hammering rush of warmth hits you all at once as you’re directed into the spray and a violent shudder instantly races up your spine. Whimpering softly, you curl in on yourself as you bring your arms up to wrap them around your upper body. The resulting nudge against painfully hard nipples almost steals the air from your lungs but if Dan Heng notices the way you subtly jolt at the contact he doesn’t show it. 

Evidently oblivious, he reaches up to almost casually palm the top of your head. At first you think he’s merely petting you in an uncharacteristic show of doting affection but you quickly realize he’s helping to work the water into your hair, ensuring it’s thoroughly sodden. Still uncharacteristic, or perhaps unprecedented was the better word, but decidedly nice. 

Very nice, actually. 

“I didn’t take you for the shy sort.” He eventually murmurs, more to himself than to you. No way were you about to pretend you hadn’t heard him though. 

“Funny. I was thinking the exact same thing.” 

“Me?” His blunt fingers pause in your hair. You can feel him peering down at you through the steamy gloom that encompasses the cramped tub but you were still hesitant to lift your eyes and look. There was no telling what you might accidentally catch a glimpse of. 

You really had no idea, truth be told, but given his earlier reaction it seemed like one’s body wasn’t meant to be ogled or stared at. He’d looked away from you for a reason. It only seemed fair if you gave him the same courtesy. 

A terse, silent moment passes. 

Evidently realizing he wouldn’t be getting any further explanation, Dan Heng exhales a quiet sigh into the thickened air before directing his hands down to your shoulders. “Turn around. I’ll wash your hair for you.” 

Not only did that sound like a rare, once in a blue moon offer you were sure to never hear again, it also seemed way safer than facing him the whole time. You were already having trouble keeping your eyes from wandering from the single strip of his bare arm you’d settled on, having had no other choice when you were standing so close to each other. 

So you gratefully pivot, giving him your back. Your shoulders start to relax from their defensive hunch now that the warm water is running down your front and slowly seeping into your skin. It seems to feed into the internal temperature of your core as he shifts behind you, reaching around for something out of sight. The next time his hands come up to touch your hair, it’s with a healthy dollop of shampoo coating his palms and fingers. 

A soft sigh of contentment slips out of you as he starts to work it into a nice lather over your scalp, keeping your neck tipped back so he could still work without having to deny yourself the comfort of the shower head. He’s as diligent with this as he is everything else, yet so incredibly gentle about it that you almost start to doze right there on your feet. It felt beyond good. It was amazing. 

“Gotta’ say I didn’t expect this Trailblaze mission to turn out like this.” He says at length, just when you’re starting to really drift off to la-la land. 

Blinking yourself awake, you fix your attention on the ceiling. “Neither did I.” 

“And to think, it’s only just started. You’ll have to forgive me if being I’m too rough by the way. I don’t often groom anyone else’s hair besides my own.” 

“No, it’s perfect.” 

He huffs a quiet laugh but refrains from saying anything further until another minute or two has gone by, and a nice, thick lather has accumulated over the circumference of your skull. “There, that should do it. Turn around again but keep your head tipped back so you don’t get suds in your eyes.” 

Obediently, you move to spin around but you seem to have forgotten something rather important in your drowsy state. Namely your close proximity to one another, how very near you were standing to him. But it’s too late by the time you realize your mistake though, and your tits wetly swipe across the lower half of his chest with a sharp burst of fleshy friction. Both of you draw a quick inhale in near perfect unison at the contact and your eyes pop open where they’d started to slide shut again, suddenly wide awake. 

For the first time since you’d stepped foot inside the shower, you find yourself looking directly up at Dan Heng. His startled expression must surely mirror yours because for a long time the two of you just stare at one another in mute silence. You aren’t sure what to make of this. Not the situation itself or the twisting knot low in your gut. 

You think you should probably take a step back and put some much needed space between the two of you but you don’t get the chance. Unable (or perhaps unwilling?) to find the presence of mind to make your legs move before he reaches up to touch your hair again, you soon find yourself trapped between his arms. He’s got you caged in like this while he dutifully scrubs the shampoo away, evidently too committed to the task at hand to stand down even when a distant note of unmistakable fluster has settled across his normally stoic expression. 

And as if Pandora’s Box had been effectively ripped open, like you couldn’t stop yourself now that you’d already looked once, your eyes start to wander. You take in his usually fluffy hair, now waterlogged and heavy across his brow, and the concentrated set of his mouth. Glancing lower, you can make out how well defined his chest and arms are, much more packed with muscle than one would expect from someone who, according to March, spent so much of his time in the databank room aboard the Express. You’d already seen him in action a handful of times though so it doesn’t exactly come as a surprise. He was strong and his firm physique showed that. And even lower than that … 

Your eyes widen at the sight of your breasts squished up against him. No wonder you’d felt that brush of skin on skin in such stunning high definition, even for as brief as it had been. What strikes you more than anything though is how soft and pliable your flesh looks shoved up against his. Where Dan Heng was hard with muscle and unrelenting, your chest was soft and invitingly malleable. A distant part of you innately understood that this was the physical difference between man and woman, the biological indicators of sex. It sparks something in the back of your mind and you fumble to grab hold of it, to comprehend what it means. 

Your frantic internal grasping is interrupted when Dan Heng roughly clears his throat, prompting you to snap your attention up with a little jolt. 

“Just what are you looking at?” 

“N - nothing.” You stammer, suddenly embarrassed. You’re not entirely sure why you should feel hot with shame and something else you can’t quite put your finger on but there’s no denying it’s there. You couldn’t tell if you were about to wilt and wither, or bonelessly melt into him. 

“I think I may have to take back what I said earlier.” He grumbles. “It might be preferable if you don’t look.” 

“Wha - -“

You feel it then. A soft nudge against your lower belly that sends your heartbeat lurching into overdrive and your legs instantly turn limp like overcooked noodles. It’s an entirely instinctive reaction, one you don’t understand anymore than all of the other confusing happenings that have taken place in this hotel bathroom, but when you try to pull away to get a look at what’s tickling your bellybutton, he just clutches at you tighter to keep you in place. 

“Please,” His voice is barely more than a hoarse whisper as he bends his head close, wincing even while he presses his damp forehead against yours. “Don’t move. Just … stay there until it goes away.” 

His expression is wretched. Dark brows knitted to create a deep wrinkle between them, his eyes so pinched you could barely see the dull blue of his irises through thick lashes. It almost scares you. Almost makes you second guess the wisdom in sharing a shower with someone else. No, that wasn’t quite right. 

It was a man you were bathing with and you were … a woman. That was what made this dangerous and ill advised. That was why he’d reacted the way he had at the start of all this. Oh, how terribly you had miscalculated the full scope of the situation. 

It’s a struggle to swallow down your jittery nerves and find your voice but you finally manage, somehow. “Does it hurt, Dan Heng?” 

“No.” He hisses, contradicting himself and what your eyes were clearly telling you. “This isn’t your fault or your problem. I should have been more cautious, that’s all. It’ll go away in time.” 

You don’t think you very much like the sound of that. “But why? Why does it have to just go away if it’s making you uncomfortable? I can help you.” 

Dan Heng sucks in such a sharp breath you can feel it rattling around inside his chest where you’re pressed right up against him. “Don’t say that.” He croaks. “You don’t know what it is you’re saying.”

“I can learn. You could teach me.” 

“Dammit …!” 

He stiffly shifts his weight then, redistributing his balance to the full center of his body. You got the distinct feeling he was trying to angle his pelvis away from you, to pull it out of reach where he could flag and soften without the close proximity of your body heat there to entice him. You rock with the motion though, follow the movement. Stay pressed against him and reach down with one hand to blindly feel for what was causing him such obvious distress. 

Your wrist bumps against the stiff flesh jutting out from his body, making him groan very low in his throat. It’s easy to find now that you have a general idea and you carefully wrap your fingers around the width of him, surprised yet delighted to find the skin silky soft and smooth. He twitches in your hold and swells, getting harder. Rapidly filling the rest of the way out while Dan Heng holds himself so tightly that you think he might just shatter and break right before your very eyes. You can’t help it though. Not only was curiosity a very compelling factor here but you also cared about him a great deal. The thought of watching your friend and fellow crewmate suffer in silence right in front of you wrenches at your very heart and makes it hard to think rationally. 

And it must be the same for Dan Heng too, because his fingers stay frozen in place as you feel along him. They remain buried in your hair, fervently clutching at your skull, as if you could be the lifeline that would save him but he continues to hold himself back for some reason. It’s hard to say if he’s scared of letting you go for fear of what he himself would do or because he feared what you might do to him with that freedom. He doesn’t try to stop you or pull away though. Just quietly seethes into the scant space separating you as you locate the bulbous head and give it a brief squeeze. That makes a tense shudder work through him, starting in the general vicinity of his hips before racing up to the rest of him. Distantly, you realize that he wants to roll his pelvis forward into the touch, to seek out more and bask in it, but he won’t. 

“Why do you fight it, Dan Heng?” 

He manages to choke out a mirthless laugh, though not without a good deal of effort. “We only just met not that long ago, for starters. It seems rude to act on such impulses given our brief rapport with one another.” 

“I don’t mind.” 

“Maybe I do.” 

You don’t think you believe that. If he really meant it he would have put an end to it by now, or at least made a greater effort to do so. But he just stands there, softly panting while you follow the length of him down to the base where a thick patch of curls brushes against your knuckles. The weight of him in your hand is surprisingly satisfying and you just can’t seem to stop yourself from exploring him. 

Twisting your hand downward, you find even more satiny soft skin waiting just below and you eagerly curl your fingers around that too. It’s incredibly pliant but he sucks in a sharp, gasping breath in response to being handled and your pulse erratically jumps with a start. 

“Gentle. Those are — sensitive.” 

“I’m sorry.” You murmur softly. “I could be a lot more careful if I could actually see what I was doing though.” 

A low rumble starts up in his chest, so faint you almost miss it under the constant spray from the shower head. Your whole body flushes, warming to the point of real discomfort but he doesn’t give you enough time to fully process any of it. Not the unexpected noise or the curling tendril of wanting low in your stomach. Not even the fact that you were currently holding the full weight of his manhood in the palm of your hand. 

To your genuine surprise, he starts to pull back. Extricates himself from you with exceedingly stiff motions that leave you fumbling for something to say. Another apology or perhaps a plea. You don’t know which and you never find out, because he grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around. You have no choice but to comply as he guides you forward, pushing you almost right up against the interior wall of the shower and totally disregarding your mouse squeak protests while he does it.

“Stop hogging all the water.” 

You open your mouth to snap back in response but all that comes out is a tiny little squawk of surprise when he pulls you back against him, moulding your wet back to the firm planes of his front. His hands drop to your waist then, taking bruising hold of your hips to press your lower body equally flush with his. There’s no mistaking the press of him now, the way it digs up into your lower back and slides into place along the middle seam of your backside like it naturally belonged there. It's as if you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe when he stiffly rolls his pelvis and grinds into you, somehow hesitant yet eager at the same time, before forcing himself to go still again. 

“Sorry,” He says right into your ear, low and hushed, as the warm spray washes over both of you now. “I thought I could control myself better than this …” 

“It’s okay.” 

“It's not. You only just joined the Astral Express, not to mention you — the way we found you … it feels like I’m taking advantage of the situation but that was never my intention. I swear it.”  

You understood what he meant even if he was reluctant to say it in quite so many words. There was a Stellaron inside of you but beyond that your identity was a complete unknown to everyone around you. Even you couldn’t say for sure who you were or who you’d once been, if you’d ever been anyone at all. That didn’t mean you were without your faculties though. You could still make decisions for yourself and take control of your own life. If that weren’t true then Himeko never would have given you the choice to join everyone on board the Express. This you knew to be true. 

So you pointedly push back on him, meeting his next stiltedly reluctant thrust. Dan Heng’s fingers bite into the meat of your hips in return, clutching at you so desperately you half expect to find bruises blooming in the same spots later on. That doesn’t really matter right now though. What’s most important is not only helping him, alleviating the discomfort that so obviously pains him, but also proving your own autonomy. To him as much as to yourself. 

“It’s okay, Dan Heng. You don’t have to hold back.” 

Groaning softly in what you think must be relief, he huddles close and curls in tight against you. Nuzzles at your temple in a coaxing manner that makes you tip your head back towards him. Water runs down your face in heavy rivulets, matting your eyelashes together, but you pay it little mind. You’re much more interested in the way Dan Heng angles his mouth down and slots it against yours in a kiss that is equal parts tentative and demanding. The heightened state of his emotions is blatant in the hard press of his lips, the hungry pull that makes you want to submit and give him everything he could ever need or want. There’s a distant note of domination lurking under the surface of that heated exchange though, like he was innately drawn to claiming what he wanted for himself, but his level headed manners were still keeping him in check. That wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. 

You quickly make your choice and bring your hands up to take firm hold of his blocky wrists, making sure he doesn’t try to escape. Not that you actually thought he would when both of you were already in this deep, haltingly moving in tandem against one another, but you didn’t want his polite niceties to get the better of him. He either doesn’t suspect a thing or he simply doesn’t care though, because he just keeps kissing you even when you go up on your tiptoes to make his cock drag down your ass. The height difference makes it a bit awkward, a bit unrefined, but you manage to successfully raise up enough to leave him nudging at the space between your legs. 

And when you come down again, trapping him in the soft squeeze of your thighs, he gasps like you’d just electrocuted him. The sound rattles inside his chest where it’s pressed into your back but, still, he doesn’t fight it. He doesn’t tell you to stop. Rather, he drags his palms lower to grab two big handfuls of your upper legs and press them more tightly together around him. You nearly lose balance and tip over in this unnatural stance but a quick hand slapped against the damp wall steadies you. 

“Careful. If you continue to push this much further …” 

The warning in his voice is clear as day but you don’t really care. Not when you could feel the faint pulse of him between your thighs and he was lined up so perfectly with the seam of your cunt that you could feel your own internal pressure ratcheting up another notch. This wasn’t exactly familiar territory, this pulse pounding excitement that makes you dizzy with a need you don’t fully understand, but the instinctive urge to nudge your hips back and forth feels much too natural for you to truly question it. So you just do it. 

And oh, how you’re rewarded by the simple slide of him along your slit. Hot, blinding sparks flash behind your eyes and you almost swoon right there in his arms, but you know you have to keep moving. Need to chase that pinprick ember of satisfaction just as much as he does, and Dan Heng only reinforces that when he pulls you back to meet the next enthusiastic thrust of his hips. 

A gasp catches in your throat at the wet, meaty smack and lodges there as you tip your face down to look at yourself. Some of your hair slips forward with the motion, wet and clinging, but you hardly even notice it with so much of your attention focused on your own body. Your nudity hadn’t felt so stark before, when you were simply focused on bathing and occupying space with him wherein the two of you just so happened to be naked together. It’s so different now looking at it through the hazy lens of intimacy though, the sight of your tits bare and wet stoking the flames within you to even greater heights. Beyond that, over the soft curve of your stomach and lower still, you can just make out the thatch of hair covering the cradle of your pelvis. And beneath that his cock head nudges out from between your legs, blooming for but a brief moment before retreating back into the tight squeeze. 

It was enough to nearly make your knees buckle and give out. 

“Oohhn,” You hiss into the constant spray, swaying in his hold. “Dan Heng … that feels - -“

“Incredible.” 

You let out a soft moan in agreement, rocking in time with his steady thrusts. The height difference was a good thing, actually. It ensured he stayed pressed up tight against you, constantly knocking your cunt with a fleshy jostle whether he was pulling out or pushing in. It was a continuous cycle of pleasurable shockwaves that quickly leaves you panting just as heavily as he is, and you eagerly writhe against him when the pressure just continues to build and build. You felt like you were going to implode in the most literal sense. What exactly had he done to you? 

Had he even done anything at all, or was this just a natural result of your own needs mingling with his and feeding into one another? You couldn’t be sure. It was impossible to think straight when your cotton stuffed head was starting to spin alarmingly fast, but you decide that it doesn’t really matter either way. The drag of him against your cunt was enough. His possessive grip on your body was enough. There would be time to figure everything out later, after you’d properly taken care of each other, and you let yourself rock back into him with an accompanying groan that subtly rises in pitch at the tail end, basking in the litany of sensations.

“Can I —“ He suddenly blurts, choking on it. His fingers sink into your flesh so hard it starts to hurt and you let out a faint whimper while he struggles to reorient himself. “Can I … touch you?” 

“Nnghn, ah - aren’t you already touching me?” 

“More. I’d like to touch more of you, if you’ll permit it.” 

You screw your eyes shut, trying to focus on your breathing. He certainly wasn’t making it easy. “Ooh … please, please touch me, Dan Heng. I feel … I feel like I’m - -“ 

His hands immediately fly up off your hips and greedily latch onto your breasts instead, lifting the weight of them in his palms. You suck in such a haggard breath you feel like you just might pass out on the spot as you arch against him, throwing your head back into his shoulder. Water from the shower head mercilessly pelts against your face now but you can’t be bothered to lobby any complaints about it when he’s cupping your tits as if they were meant to fit right there in his hold. It’s perfect and sublime, and it just ratchets your own excitement up another notch, making you impotently shudder. 

This pulse pounding feeling of cresting pleasure may have been foreign to you, but you could already see yourself becoming irreversibly addicted to it. Perhaps this was even more dangerous than you’d first realized. 

“Oh! If you do that …” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“I — I don’t know.” 

He noises a faint sound of confusion at your quiet whimper, his hands loosening around your chest. You’re acutely aware of the odd little look he gives you through the swirling steam but can’t quite bring yourself to turn your face away. Whatever this was, whatever it meant in the long run, you wanted more of it. Needed more of him. 

“Don’t stop. Please.” 

A small frown graces his lips. “But you just said - -“

“I know. But I don’t want you to stop.” Carefully, you lift your hand — the one not currently braced against the wall — and cover one set of Dan Heng’s knuckles with your fingers. They seem dainty resting against his like this. “It feels kind of funny but I don’t think it’s bad. I don’t really understand what it means but … I want you to keep doing it. Please?” 

Groaning like you’d just sucker punched him right in the gut, Dan Heng leans further into you until his weight presses you down into a half stooped position. His skin sticks to your back and clings but this too feels good. His body heat bleeds into you, warming you up far more than the shower ever could have, and you eagerly squeeze the muscles in your legs to keep them locked in place. This time when he kneads your breasts it’s much more tentative and slow. He takes his time with it, just savoring the fleshy give, and you keen very softly when he at last nudges one index finger up to brush it over your nipple. 

You can feel yourself sinking deeper into that hazy fog as he starts to move again. The restrained power behind his thrusts sends fresh bursts of static energy coursing through your system, further highlighting the sensitivity of your aching teats as you rock with him, luxuriating in the fleshy drag of his stiff length against your cunt. 

Pap. Pap. Pap. 

He keeps the rhythm slow and even, but so vigorous that it pushes you forward and makes your tits bounce in his hold. You experience everything in stunning high definition from the slick dampness that oozes out of you to smooth the glide of him between your legs right down to the simple sensation of water running across your skin. It’s overwhelming and somehow still not enough. You couldn’t even think straight let alone formulate a semi coherent sentence, your tongue lolling heavily inside your mouth as you shudderingly rear back into him just to feel that delicious friction again. And he takes it in stride, never faltering no matter how wild you get or how hard you shake as the tumultuous waves crest a little bit higher each time. The firm, unyielding planes of his pelvis meeting with your backside, harder, faster. The distant tickle of coarse pubic hair digging into the vulnerably soft flesh of your ass. Even the low, guttural sounds he makes against the side of your face. You were so close to drowning in all of it. 

His thick, callous worn fingers curling up to finally pinch at your nipples is what really sends you over the edge though. The sudden jolt of pleasure so intense it rides the line of being painful almost makes you collapse right then and there, and you throw yourself back into him with mindless desperation. Your hips seem to move on their own even as you cry out for him, judderingly grinding yourself down on that rock hard length pressed up into you. 

“Ooh, Dan Heng!” 

“Please don’t say my name like that.” He quietly wheezes under his breath, still pinching at your breasts. Still pulling and tweaking, using his thumb to brush over them and flick the tightly coiled peaks back and forth. Your body was a livewire just waiting to detonate, and it doesn’t seem to escape his notice. It’s apparent in the way he’s so insistent with his ministrations, encouraging you to keep moving your cunt back and forth, back and forth against him with nothing more than the attention he gives your tits. He takes his time rolling them between the two pads to reward you for your efforts and he gives them a slow, encouraging tug any time your pace falters and you start to slow down. 

It’s a vicious cycle that perfectly feeds into itself a hundred times over and keeps you balanced right on the precipice of some great, harrowing free fall. The world could have come to a sudden, fiery end at that very moment and you never would have noticed. All of your attention, your entire being, was for Dan Heng and only Dan Heng in that moment. His hands, his lips brushing your neck and your cheek when he nuzzles into you. The constant motion of his thighs flexing behind you, driving himself unendingly into the hot, damp spot between your legs. His taller, wider frame trembling against yours with all the pent up tension running through it that so perfectly mirrors your own. 

You’d never felt anything like it before, and a very small voice in the back of your mind wonders if you’ll ever feel it again. Was this a once in a lifetime experience? A fleeting mercurial high that would disappear in a flash bang of white noise the second you tipped over into the awaiting abyss below? 

If that was the case, if you were destined to bask in this dwindling euphoria once and only once in your lifetime, then you were determined to milk every last drop of enjoyment out of it while you could. 

So you drop your hands and reach back, grabbing two biting fistfuls of Dan Heng’s narrow hips. Use the leverage to draw him in against you at a quicker pace, forcing him to snap his pelvis into your backside with greater ferocity. He issues a wounded, faltering grunt into the air but he doesn’t fight it. He hasn’t truly fought anything you’ve offered up to him on a silver platter, not once telling you ‘no’ since you first stepped foot into this bathroom together, and that knowledge sparks a simmering ember deep within your gut. It’s the taste of victory. Of conquest and self assured confidence that can only be achieved through the meeting of two compatible bodies. 

You’re sure of it. Innately, or perhaps intrinsically, you just know that’s what it is. 

“Oh, gods,” He rattles out, gritting through tightly clenched teeth while he fucks himself between your thighs, pistoning in and out of the tight squeeze like a jackhammer. “I’m so close — so close, I - I can’t hold it back anymore.” 

You would’ve voiced your agreement if only you’d had the ability to do so. The breakneck speed at which he ruts into you effectively steals the air from your lungs though and it’s all you can do just to hold on, clutching at his powerfully flexing hips to ground yourself rather than to encourage him. He didn’t need more encouragement anyway. That one little nudge from you was more than enough and now he couldn’t quite seem to remember to be polite and gentle with you. 

The wet smack of his pelvis slamming into your ass is now loud, almost defeaning, and it comes in rapid fire succession to damn near down out even the constant spray of the shower head. It just amplifies the already searing friction against your cunt until it seems to blur into a single, persistent tingle that just grows and grows to the point of delirium. He can’t help himself and neither can you. Not anymore. 

“Dan Heng - -“ 

A truly bestial snarl snakes out of him. His fingers falter, slipping and sliding against your wet teats before adjusting to latch onto the bouncing meat of your breasts instead. What little bit of control he’d still been clinging to dissipates like dust in the wind, and he clings to you so hard it brings tears to your eyes. The demanding press of his fingers sinking into your flesh sends you over the edge with a sudden, lurching jolt as your pussy clenches up and squeezes uncontrollably against his length. Even when you wail out in high strung relief, trembling violently in the throes of your release, he just keeps humping into you like he’d die if he doesn’t chase his own pleasure quickly enough. That continuous drag over your slit just draws out your own involuntary spasms and you can’t help but cry out in oversensitized bliss even as you somewhat awkwardly twist in his arms to look down at yourself. 

Numbly, you watch his flushed glans appear between the fleshy press of your legs, quickly disappear and then immediately reappear again just a split second later. He’s pounding into you so fast and so hard that the resulting shockwaves make your thighs jiggle slightly under the force. It’s incredibly fascinating to witness though and you stare at it in a trancelike stupor, barely even registering the pitchy moan he lets out right against your temple. 

The next time his cock appears it’s with an eruption of creamy white discharge that shoots out to splatter across the floor and the wall, some of it smearing over the skin where the two of you are connected. Hissing like his soul is actively trying to leave his body, Dan Heng haltingly slows to a stiff roll of his hips that makes his length nudge back and forth just enough to drain the rest of his explosive release. Another healthy spurt rushes out of him and then a savory dribble quickly follows, thickly oozing from the tip to drip onto the floor between your feet. It’s over, just like that, and you blink rather owlishly down at the evidence of your illicit encounter as he heaves a deeply satisfied sigh of pleasure. 

It’s a little hard to wrap your mind around what had just transpired, especially when you were still floating in the afterglow and well satiated, but you snap back into the moment when he carefully starts to straighten up. You hadn’t even realized he’d dropped into a partial crouch to better accommodate the height difference, and you turn in his hold to look back at him. 

“Dan Heng … are you - -“

“We need to get out.” He cuts across you, back to being the same mild and polite Dan Heng you were used to, but at the questioning lift of your brows he sheepishly glances away. “The water is beginning to turn cold so we need to get out before you start shivering again. Otherwise that would completely defeat the purpose of doing this in the first place.” 

Oh. You hadn’t even noticed, truth be told, but you shift to the side when he reaches around you to smack the faucet off. The room goes suddenly quiet, save the dull drip of water droplets running from the spout and two sets of deep breaths coming from you and him. You’d been so caught up in the moment that you hadn’t noticed that either but your heart was indeed pounding a wild rhythm against your chest, and you reach up to idly touch over your pulse. Wild and erratic, just like you’d felt leading up to that mind numbing crescendo. 

What the hell had all that been? 

“Let me get you a towel.” You hear him say, and you bring your head up in time to watch him flick the screen open with a sluggish motion. 

“What about you? You didn’t even get to wash your hair.” 

Dan Heng looses a soft bark of laughter as he steps out onto the waiting mat, giving you your first real look at his nude body. He’s all lean and svelte with a perfectly tapered waist and broad shoulders, and — he abruptly turns to face you without warning. You’re suddenly looking right at him. The cut lines of his pelvis and the perfect little bellybutton stamped right in the center of it; the damp mess of dark, dark hair crowning his softened cock and the unmistakable weight of it … 

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel vaguely faint even as you smack a hand up to your mouth and quickly look away in embarrassment. You’d never seen one before. Or at least, you’re pretty sure you haven’t. That doesn’t exactly stop your body from reacting to it though and your knees turn instantly wobbly again to accompany the instinctive urge to touch him, taste him. To feel him moving inside of you with the same keen ferocity he’d shown your thighs. Gods, you were like some kind of pervert! 

“After all that you’re finally getting shy?” He laughs, bemused, but you can’t quite bring yourself to lift your gaze again. The risk of jumping his bones seemed far too great for you to take that chance right now. But luckily for you, Dan Heng is much too conscientious to hold it over your head and you soon catch the sound of him shuffling for a towel just another moment later. “I’ll cover up if that will make you feel better but don’t think you’re going to get out of this without having a talk with me first. I meant it when I said I had no intention of taking advantage of you. This isn’t something we can just pretend never happened, you know.” 

Cautiously slow, you peek over at him from the corner of your eye just in time to get one last good look at his tight backside before a towel slides into place around his waist. You may not have been able to see it anymore but that certainly wasn’t going to stop you from thinking about it well into the foreseeable future. Curse him and his gorgeous body. “Are you … upset that we did that?” 

“Not at all. I only want to check in with you and find out what you want.” 

Now that manages to throw you for a loop. “What do you mean? I wasn’t expecting anything in return.” 

Sighing softly, Dan Heng pivots back around to face you again. “That’s precisely why. You obviously have no expectations in place and some men would probably try to take advantage of that to use you for sex. I’m not like that though. If you want to do this the right way then I would likewise be amenable to that possibility. If you want to keep things casual that’s fine too. And if you never want to see my face again … well, I couldn’t exactly blame you for that I suppose.” 

Confusion marches rampant through your mind until the lightbulb abruptly clicks on. He was talking about taking responsibility for his actions. Of giving you the proper respect and courtesy of having a choice. Dan Heng clearly had no desire to withhold an actual relationship from you if that was what you wanted but he also wasn’t going to force it on you either. How interesting. How very — chivalrous of him. 

Your heart gives a tiny little thump against your ribcage, and you smile over at him. Eager and pleased by this revelation, but a bit nervous too. Whoever would’ve thought something as benign as sharing a shower together out of necessity would end with talks of a potential future together. 

“Is everyone on the Express as old fashioned as you are?” 

He smiles back, gracing you with a small but no less frustratingly charming grin. “In this aspect, I’m afraid it’s just me. Think you're up for it?” 

“Yeah, I think I might be.” 

⭐

Crossposted: here

#star rail #dan heng #dan heng x reader #self insert bullshit

[alovesongshewrote]

Slightly Stabbed | The Lost Boys x Reader

Plot:  you get a little bit stabbed.  oopsie? [The Lost Boys x GN!Reader]

Word count:  3807

Warnings: first aid, stab wounds, blood, the reader has some issues but it's ok

A/N: this is literally a fanfic in headcanon form, holy fuck.  tumblr almost couldn’t handle this thicc thing

Sooooooo, here’s the thing about dating a group of vampires

They uh

They can smell blood

AND I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE THINKING, BUT WE AREN’T GOING THERE

At least not today

No, today we’re discussing the fun challenge that is Hiding Your Stab Wound From Your Four Boyfriends

(five boyfriends if you want to add michael, and five boyfriends one girlfriend if you want to add star)

Either way

All these bitches can smell your blood, which makes hiding injuries Difficult

It literally doesn’t matter how little blood there is, the second that red shit escapes your flesh prison, they Know

It makes papercuts very difficult, because you’ll be reading, you’ll get the papercut, and then one or more of them will just Appear behind you like

“Hi, could I offer you a band-aid?  Or perhaps you could offer to give me a sip of your blood?”

It’s a fuckin

Process

Also, RIP to you if you ever get scratched in the face by something, because some of these fuckers

(paul and marko)

Will just

Lick your face

They don’t even give any warning, they’ll just lick you

It’s

It’s an experience, to be sure

It’s even more of an experience if you go with the idea that they have forked tongues

But anyway, we aren’t here to talk about little injuries

We’re here to talk about Stab Wounds and How To Hide Them

Short answer: you can’t hide them.

Aaand that’s it, thanks for coming to the TEDTalk everyone, rmr to like and subscribe, blah blah blah

Long answer:

Let’s start with how you got the stab wound

Because that’s very important

Now

There are lots of ways to get stabbed

The boardwalk isn’t the safest place

And i mean, you’ve seen the “people are strange” sequence, there are missing posters fucking everywhere

And yeah, all that murder that could be just the boys, but also

There could be other killers wandering around, you don’t know

There are also vampire hunters

And random delinquents

And people who just

Don’t Like The Boys

And by association, don’t like you

Whatever it is, whoever stabs you

They manage to get you one of the few times you’re on the boardwalk alone

To any passers by, it just looks like a fist fight- probably something that came out of harsh words and youthful anger

But alas, the sharp stinging in your side says something else

Actually, it’s less saying something else, and more screaming it

Nevertheless, you manage to fight off your attacker, and then you’re left standing on the boardwalk, your hands covered in blood as you try to put pressure on your wound

It’s a very strange experience

You’ve got a hole

In your side

You’re leaking blood

And you almost don’t know what to do next

But you know you can’t exactly go home like this, so you end up walking through the crowds on the boardwalk, fighting off shock and trying to ignore the bright lights and joyful screams around you as you try to find a bathroom to clean up in

If anyone notices that you’re hurt, you don’t notice them

Eventually, you find a bathroom, and once inside, you lock the door behind you and take a look in the mirror

As you stare down your reflection, you silently pray that the wound looks worse than it is

In part because it looks really bad

Like, bad enough to freak you out

But you’ve also got your fingers crossed that it looks worse than it is because, uh

If you die alone in a random boardwalk bathroom, David will kill you.  

And yeah, the thought of an angry david sobers you up pretty quickly

You start doing first aid on yourself

You’re no pro, but you do your best with what you have

You clean the excess blood off of your wound with paper towels and tap water

At first you’re so focused on speed that you forget to be gentle

You regret it

But you quickly learn how to get shit done efficiently without needlessly torturing yourself

And thank fucking god, the wound does actually look worse than it is

The stab wound isn’t deep, and it didn’t hit anything important

It’s just gross

Once the bleeding stops, you frantically wash all of the blood off of your skin

And then you realize that you don’t have much to patch yourself up with

You end up using your jacket, which was already stained with your blood beyond repair

You rip it up for bandages, and then you realize that you’re uh

You’re probably going to have to get another shirt

Because yours has Noticeable Bloodstains

And not only will your Vampires notice that

But so will the General Public

So yeah, you buy a dumb t-shirt from the boardwalk

It says, “i survived the murder capital of the world and all i got was this stupid t-shirt”

You find it hilariously ironic that you are using this shirt to hide the fact that you almost didn’t survive the murder capital of the world

Anyway

You yeet your old shirt into a random fire, and then you head on back to the cave, hoping for the best

(hoping for the best here means: hoping that you don’t start bleeding again)

You don’t

And hey, when you get to the cave, it looks like the no one’s home

So that’s another win for you!

You walk on in and let yourself collapse onto one of the couches

And i mean, you instantly regret it, because ow

But it’s nice to feel something soft and comfortable after the time you had

You can’t relax, though

For one thing, every time you close your eyes you’re back there

Either getting stabbed by a stranger on the boardwalk, or shaking in the bathroom trying not to bleed out

You can feel your breath coming faster as the adrenaline in your system fades away and you start to realize that you were just stabbed

Someone pulled a knife on you, and they stabbed you

They could have killed you, you could have died, and you’re lucky you didn’t, but also, you’re not super lucky because you still got stabbed

And you really liked the shirt that you had to burn

And for another thing

There’s a vampire standing in front of you

When you open your eyes it makes you jump and scream a little

Which irritates your stab wound

Which makes you scream more and curl in on yourself

It’s very confusing to poor paul, who was already very confused because he could smell your blood even though none of your vampires bit you that day

Also, it’s not super relevant but you should know: he does kind of look like the “mom i frew up” meme

Or at least he does at first

Because the second you start to curl in on yourself, he is on you

Usually he’d apologize for startling you, but right now?  Right now he can tell something’s up

Your boys might be dumbasses, but they’re more than smart enough to know when something is wrong

So, paul goes all

“Hey pretty thing, are you okay?  What’s wrong?”

And you

You don’t want paul to worry, and you don’t want him to get mad at you for letting yourself get stabbed

And you really don’t want to talk about your stab wound in general

You just want paul to go so that you can have a panic attack over it in peace

But he doesn’t go

So you respond with

“I’m fine!  Totally, totally fine, I just slept on my side weird and it’s bugging me, that’s all”

And y’know what, you’re actually mildly convincing

Too bad he can smell your blood

Thanks to that fun vampiric trait, he knows you aren’t telling him the truth

So, he leans in a little further, eyebrows furrowed, and he says

“You can tell me, baby.  What’s wrong?”

Luckily (depending on who you ask) you don’t have to answer him, because marko drops into the cave

Yeaaaah, you were lucky enough to come home like, two minutes before the boys did

Rip

Anyway, it doesn’t take marko long to notice the scene on the couch

You’re curling up into the armrest and paul is leaning over you

It looks weird

And

You’re clutching your side

And paul looks concerned, so like i said, these boys may have like, three solid brain cells between them (three and a half if you want to count star) but they fucking Know when something’s up

Especially when something’s up with you

So, marko bounces over

And now he’s asking what’s wrong

He leans over the armrest of the couch

So he’s standing like, behind your head

And he asks, “What’s up, hot stuff?”

You lean your head back so you can look at him, you roll your eyes at the pet name, and again you say

“I’m fine.  Paul’s just being a dick”

And paul, who now looks majorly offended, collapses onto the couch by your feet and goes

“I am not!  I’m being a concerned boyfriend, you’re being a dick!”

Paul picked the wrong place to sit, because you kick him in the leg as hard as you can without hurting yourself

It’s not super hard, but paul acts like you stabbed him, ironically enough

While you and marko grin at his dramatics, david and dwayne drop into the cave

And uhhh, they’re much harder to distract, so good luck with that

Literally from the second they get into the cave, they’re both honed in on the smell of your blood

They make their way towards the couch you’re all crowded on, and as they do, david says

And he projects a bit, so the sound echos off the cave walls

“Why do I smell blood?  Paul, Marko, did you start something without us?”

His tone is chiding, maybe a little teasing

But the second he sees their faces, his taunting demeanor drops to something much scarier

Concern

And now david says your name

And his voice gets a little deeper as he asks you why he can smell your blood

As you struggle to come up with an answer, david and dwayne make their way over to the couch

Dwayne, Known Sweet Boy, comes up behind the couch, takes your hand and kisses it

He doesn’t ask you anything, but he also doesn’t let go of your hands

You don’t look at his face

If you look at his face, you know he’s going to look back at you with an expression that is 100% concerned puppy dog, and you will crack like an egg and tell them everything

And then it’ll become a huge deal

And they won’t leave you alone

And you’ll probably cry in front of them

And you’ll make them waste their night taking care of you

And then you’ll get yelled at for being stupid, so no

You do not look at dwayne

Instead, you focus your attention on paul, who’s focusing on david, who’s focusing on you

And for a second, everything is silent

Then david kneels at your side which is fuckin

Rare

He likes to feel tall, kneeling is the Opposite of that

But he does it nonetheless

And he says your name again, and you Don’t Look At Him, you just keep your gaze straight and pretend to be somewhere else

Of course he says your name again, sounding more irritated this time

And he asks

“Why can we smell blood outside of the cave?”

And you relent a bit by answering

“Hey, it’s not like I’ve never bled around you before.  Remember that time I fell?  Or the time I gouged my shin open?  Or the time one of the pigeons bit me?”

Yeahhh, even you know it’s a stupid argument

No matter how much blood you’ve lost around them, you know it doesn’t match this

And marko puts your thoughts to words

He legit says

“Yeah, but it’s never been this bad before, babe.  What’s wrong?”

And after that you’re just

Bombarded with the boys asking some variation of “What’s wrong?” over and over

You cling to dwayne’s hand as their voices start to overwhelm you

But then he pulls away

And you just can’t take it anymore

So you yell

And you don’t mean to yell it, you just want to be heard

“OKAY, OKAY, fine, I’ll tell you”

They shut up, and instantly your voice drops like

A million decibels

As you say

“I… I may have been… lightly stabbed.”

There’s a beat of silence and then

“I’m sorry, you were STABBED?”

Dwayne breaks his silence, looking horrified, which is almost funny, because you know his methods of killing are a little more brutal than “stab the victim with a knife”

But then again, he’s never tried to kill you, so

Anyway, dwayne’s outburst is followed by paul and marko both shrieking some form of “excuse me”

(“I’M SORRY, WHAT?” and an actual, “EXCUSE ME?” respectively)

David is silent now as the other three just

Lose their shit

Paul is demanding to know where the wound is

Marko fucks off to go hunt for first aid supplies, but you can still hear him shouting about it

Dwayne has taken your hand back and he looks into your eyes as he asks

“Who did this to you?”

And quietly, you go

“Some douchebag on the boardwalk- look, guys, I was only lightly stabbed-”

And there’s another outburst

Paul and marko both yell that being “lightly” stabbed still isn’t good

Dwayne looks like he might kill someone or start crying, you aren’t sure which, maybe both

And that’s when david grabs your jaw

He’s surprisingly gentle with you- though, considering the stab wound, maybe that isn’t really a surprise

Either way

David makes you look at him, and he asks you

In a voice he reserves for quiet moments, which this isn’t, and special occasions, which this technically is

“Where’s the wound, baby?”

With a sigh, you tear your eyes from his and gingerly lift up your new shirt to reveal a blood-soaked makeshift bandage, which itself covers the shallow wound in your side

Haha, fuck

You wince at the sight of it

But your boys remain stone faced- if anything, they look angry

Except for paul, who also winces, but in a split second he goes from wincing to pissed like everyone else

And you let out a groan, because this is the one thing you were trying to avoid

Anger and concern

Just as you open your mouth to apologize, marko slams a small box of first aid stuff on the floor by the couch

You move to reach for it, but instantly, several pairs of hands are on you, pushing you (gently) back onto the couch

You

Roll Your Eyes

Fuckin vampires, always treating you like glass

“Hey, I’m not four years old,” you say, trying to sit up again, “I can treat my own stab wound”

Yeah, as you say it you manage to catch just how absurd your words sound

‘I can treat my own stab wound’ who says that?

You do, i guess

And you intend to follow through, but hey

You get pushed back down again

“Stay still, wouldya?  Goddamn,” Marko fuckin growls as he pins your shoulders down, “We’re trying to help you, so stop moving.”

You give a very defiant wiggle.  No one is amused but you.

With an irritated sigh, you resign yourself to staying on the couch

But it doesn’t stop you from trying to get them to leave you alone

“Look, guys, I’m fine.  Don’t you have anything better to do than poke at me?  Seriously-”

“Ha, you’re cute,” the response comes from paul this time

Paul who has, by the way, taken to holding your legs hostage

He continues with a very blunt

“But seriously, shut the fuck up and let us fix this, ‘kay?”

You glare at him, but with your legs and shoulders pinned, it’s not like you have much of a choice

So you just

Lie there

And try to pretend that this whole thing doesn’t make you want to break down crying because fuck, you couldn’t just almost get murdered, you also had to be a burden

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck

As you lie on the couch, the night’s events replay in your head

And as your emotions build, every shitty thing that happened to you that particular week also replay in your head

As marko starts to patch you up, and dwayne takes over pinning your shoulders down, and david starts plotting the murder of whoever did this out loud, you just

Try to stop them from seeing that you are Not Doing Okay

And here comes second, even tougher challenge:

Hiding Your Feelings From Your Four Boyfriends

Yeahhh, you fail at this one, too

Paul notices the tears in your eyes right the fuck away

It helps that he’s looking at your face, and not focusing on the marko medical drama going on at your side

He reaches up towards your face and he just says

In the softest fucking voice

“Hey, what’s wrong baby?”

And you just

Snap

The tears come to the front, just a bit, but it doesn’t stop you from yelling

“Jesus fuck, CAN YOU ALL JUST FUCK OFF SO I CAN CRY ABOUT THIS ALONE?  Go hunt, or something, just- just go away.”

…

They do not just go away

They don’t really know what to do with that

They just know that you’re hurting and it’s bad

And they Don’t want to leave you alone

So instead, paul and dwayne give your leg and shoulder a squeeze, respectively

In like, emotional solidarity

And david leans in towards you so that you can hear him say

“If one of us was stabbed, you would be upset, right?”

You nod and he continues

“So why is it any different for you?  You’ve been stabbed, you’re allowed to have emotions.”

You’re in the middle of processing that when marko

dear marko

Gives your shoulder a very awkward pat and says

“Besides, crying is sexy!”

And he states it so matter-of-factly

And he does it with this little smile, that you’re sure is supposed to be comforting, but oh my god

David smacks him on the back of the head for that while you just

Start to giggle

It’s which devolves to a weird mix of laughter and tears

It’s like

Mostly laughter

Meanwhile, paul just starts to openly mock marko for his, “crying is sexy” comment

And before you know it, your side is properly bandaged up

Yay!

But of course, it isn’t over

Less yay!

You’re finally allowed to sit up, and immediately paul yoinks you into his side

He clings to you a little bit, too, like he’s not sure he’ll get to hold you ever again

And yknow what it makes sense, you’re human, and fleshy, and easily breakable, and you got stabbed

He’s allowed to be freaked out, too.  They all are

Anyway

The second you’re up, david is on his knees in front of you again

His hands are on your thighs, and now it’s his turn to ask

“Now tell us, baby- who did this to you?”

You give them best description you can, and just like that, they’re all headed for the exit

Except for paul, who’s still clinging to you

But before they can leave you call out to them

And you say, “I’m sorry.”

Every single one of them freezes

The next voice you hear is david’s

He asks

“Why would you apologize?”

And you take a second to answer

Because in your head you have several answers for him, but it is

Very difficult to express them out loud

And as you figure out how the fuck you’re gonna verbalize any of your feelings, the boys come right back to you

Marko plops down on your other side, dwayne stands behind you, and again, david is in front of you

But you can really only focus on david, because once again, he’s on his knees with his hands on your thighs, and he’s looking at you with a mix of confusion and sadness that you rarely see on his face

And finally you say:

“I- um.  I’m making all of you worry.  And it was stupid of me to get stabbed in the first place, because I could’ve gotten myself killed, and then I fucking cried everywhere, and-”

And that’s where you get cut off

Because david leans in (and moves his hands up your thighs) and he says

“Now, why would you ever apologize for all of that?”

You look up and meet his eyes as he continues, but he’s turning to look at the boys around you as he says

“I mean, if we apologized for being stupid then Paul and Marko would never stop apologizing- and if we had to apologize for getting stabbed, well-”

Everyone looks at marko

And that little shit just grins like he didn’t almost get murdered by a bunch of teenagers, and he says

“I’m not apologizing for that.”

It’s a little shit thing to say, but david nods and says, “Exactly, so you don’t apologize either.  It’d be stupid to apologize, okay?”

You nod a little bit, and he smiles and says

“That’s it, babe,” he kisses you on the forehead and he stands

“Now if you’ll excuse us, we have to go commit a murder.  We’ll be back, don’t go anywhere.  Paul, you’re good staying?”

Paul promptly buries his face in your shoulder and gives david a thumbs up

Marko stands up, stretches, and starts to bounce away

Dwayne leans down and kisses your temple before he also walks away

Marko then runs back to you to kiss your cheek (he got excited about the oncoming murder)

Aaand that leaves you and paul alone

You turn to face him

(you fail, because he’s not going to move his face from your shoulder until he wants to_

And you ask

“Hey, don’t you want to go do some murder?  Doesn’t murder sound fun?”

And i mean it does

But that’s not the answer you get

The answer you get is a very stressed sounding

“IF YOU PEOPLE KEEP GETTING STABBED, I’M NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO MURDER BECAUSE EVERYONE I LOVE WILL BE STABBED.”

Yep, you and marko really did a number on this poor guy

So, that starts challenge three

Not Getting Stabbed For The Mental Health Of Your Four Boyfriends

It’s an easier challenge, you succeed at this one

Idk about marko tho, marko’s probably gonna get stabbed again.  Not necessarily by a person.  Maybe by a fence.

anyway

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x gender neutral reader #tlb x reader #poly!the lost boys x reader #tlb david x reader #tlb paul x reader #tlb dwayne x reader #tlb marko x reader #poly!tlb x reader

[taylormarieee]

~Stranded~

Summary: You and Rick are on a run for supplies needed at the prison, when a herd of walkers is heading your way. You both find yourselfs stranded in a warehouse.

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: Rick Grimes X Fem!Reader

Warnings:Oral(Fem!Receiving),PiV sex, Unprotected sex, Creampie, Praise kink, Pet names(Sweetie, princess, sweetheart.),A lil sexual tension if u squint, Fingering, That's it... Enjoy!

You wake up to the sound of knocking on the wall. Startled you pull your knife and sit up only to be met with blue eyes that belong to the one and only Rick Grimes.

"Psst, hey come with me to go on a supply run." He says. "Yea sure ok." You say rubbing my palm down your face. You get dressed putting on your baggy blue jeans and your oversized Nirvana band T-shirt.

You grab your gun holster and your knife holder and wrap it around your thigh. You put a back up knife in your shoe and cover it with your jeans.

You walk out to meet Rick grabbing your bag on the way out. You say your goodbyes and walk outside the prison. You see Rick standing by the car talking to Carol.

"Ready to go?" You say walking towards the trunk. Squinting your eyes to look at Rick.

"Uhm Yea let's go. We'll talk later Carol." He says walking to the driver's seat. She nods and walks away. He starts the engine and you guys set off.

"It says to turn left here down this road." You say point at left against the windshield. You feel the car turn left and you continue staring at the map.

"Keep going straight and we should reach the warehouse on our right." You say closing the map.

You both see the big warehouse and Rick stops the car getting out. You step out the car. and. pull. out you knife as rick pulls out his gun.

"What happened to being quiet and not attractin' walkers eh?" You say chuckling. "Well I got no knife, so guns my best option." He says smiling.

"Hm, If you say so officer!" You say running towards a pole and banging your knife on it to attract any walkers inside.

After about 5 minutes of waiting only three walkers come out. One goes for Rick and the other two go for you. You grab the first one trying to stab it but you fall.

Its jaw thrashing at you wanting to take your flesh but you act quick and stab it in the head.

As you try to go for the other you hear another gunshot and its head drops next to you and blood splatters on your cheek.

Rick walks up to you and reaches for your hand to pull you up, and you gladly accept his hand. He pulls you up and you stumble a little too close to him and your noses touch.

You both stare at each other while still holding hands. You clear your throat and back away from him a bit.

"Shall we?"You awkwardly say. gesturing towards the door of the warehouse. "Uh yea yea. We should hurry anyway, any walkers nearby coulda head those shots so let's go. Ladies first!" He says smirking.

"How knight and shining armour of you!" You say laughing, walking through the doors of the warehouse.

You. both search for food,supplies,medicine, whatever you could find or get your hands on. As you both found stuff like clothes and food and even some supplies and medicine you both decided it was time to go. You guys start to exit you notice a herd of walkers coming your way. You start to panic not knowing Rick was coming up behind you.

"Hey today was a good run don't ya thi-" He was cut off to you pushing him back inside and covering his mouth so they don't see or hear you guys.

"Shh, a herd is coming. Looks like we're gonna have to lay low here for a little while, ok?" You say removing your hand from his mouth. He nods and drops his bag, and you both make yourselves comfortable.

It's been 20 minutes and the herd still hasn't left. You fiddle with your fingers while rick watches the herd. You take quick glances at him every once in awhile admiring his broad shoulders, His amazing hands and the veins protruding and flexing whenever he gripped his gun, and his luscious hair. God how badly you wanted to play in his hair.

He walks over to you and you watch as he walks over. ~God why was Rick Grimes so attractive~ You thought. "Looks like we might be here a lil while longer. So make yourself comfortable" He says smiling.

"Wow! They are really annoying, now I have to be stranded here with you." You say chuckling

"Is that really a bad thing? I kinda thought this would be fun!" He says teasingly. Smirking at you and slightly moving closer.

"No... It's not so bad." You say chuckling. "Well then good." He says smiling at you.

"Hey... Can I ask you a question?" You say, "Yea sure, what is it?"He says getting closer to you by the second.

"Are you and Michonne like... A thing?" You ask fiddling with your fingers. Ricks eyes widen and he stares at you being completely silent. You take his silence as a "You have crossed the line with this question" so you immediately start back tracking mumbling apologies.

"Rick, omg I'm sorry I didn't- i mean i wasn't trying- ugh I'm sorry for assuming. You guys probably aren't, Sorry for being nosy!" You say fastly out of embarrassment. Heat rushes to your face as a feeling of embarrassment washes over you.

"Just forget I even asked ok. I feel embarrassed, so just forget it." You say looking at your rings. Rick takes your chin in his hands and looks into your eyes. His beautiful blue eyes piercing into yours. He glances at your lips before diving in.

Your lips move smoothly together in one swift, rhythmic motion. He forces his tongue between your soft lips and moans into your mouth. Your hands go straight for his chest. He grabs you and props you up on his chest. You can feel the tent in his pants as you slowly start to grind on him.

Your soaking through your black lace panties as you pick up your speed, causing the man beneath you to groan. He holds your back and sets you down on the cold, warehouse floor. He goes straight for the button and zipper and pulls your pants on you revealing your underwear.

So needy for each other. you start to fondle with his belt and he stakes off the belt strap holding his gun. Once he removes both articles of clothing he moves towards your neck, kissing and marking you with hickeys. Your. hands go straight for his beautiful, brown curls.

You've always wanted to touch and feel his hair. Beautiful, soft locs blowing in the wind and glistening in the sunlight. His smile always glowing and lighting up any room. His bravery always mad you tingle. How he talked down to our enemies, how protective he was, he was just so attractive and he made your mind all fuzzy with dirty thoughts every time.

He runs his warm hands up and down the curves of your body, feeling and savouring every minute. He hooks his finger around your lace panties and slowly pulls them down. He removes his lips from your neck and slowly slides down to your dripping and aching cunt.

He flattens his tongue on your entrance making you whimper.

"Shhh Princess, we gotta be quiet remember? Don't want walkers knowing were here now do we?" He says smirking. All you can do is nod your head as he starts to lap up your juices. He pokes and prods his tongue at your entrance, teasing you while rubbing your clit in figure eights.

Sending shiver through out your body. You put your hand over your mouth to suppress your moans and whimpers. He feels you pulsing and continues to go faster. He adds one finger inside you and you try your very best not to scream his name right here right now.

He shove it as deep as he can as he flicks his tongue on your clit. Flicking and sucking on the little bundle of nerves making your brain fuzzy and your eyes cross. You feel your orgasm approaching fast and start to shake extremely. You close your legs around his head so hard shoving his face farther with you hands tangled in his hair.

You whine his name in a drawn out whine as you cum all over his face and fingers. He continues to lick and slurp up all your giving to him and groans in your cunt. You release his hair from your grip and open your legs for him.

He comes up to kiss you. and you can taste yourself on him. "Damn sweetheart, you taste good." He says grinning. You cover your face in your hands as heat rushes to your face.

"Don't be embarrassed sweetie, You did so well for me. Think you can be a good girl for me again?" He asks, You nod. your head removing your hands from your face. "Words baby, I need words." "Yes, Rick, I'll be a good girl for you." You say whining as he pushes. the tip of his cock at your entrance.

"Good Girl." He says before slowly shoving his whole length into your pussy. You clench around him over and over as he penetrates you.

"Damn, if you- Oh fuck- If ya keep doing that, babygirl I won't last." He groans fully bottoming out. He stops for a second to let you get adjusted before kissing you. You tap him on his shoulder signaling to him that he can move. At first he takes it slow but your whimpers and whines made his brain all fuzzy and he picks up speed.

Thrusting into you with full force making your body jolt up and down. Your moaning and whining, not even caring if the herd can hear you anymore. His thrusts become erratic and faster. He's lost his rhythm and you can tell he's gonna cum.

"Rick, cum inside me please! Oh fuck I'm gonna cum rick! Please baby!" You moan, feeling your second orgasm approach. "Planning on it baby! Oh fuck." He groans shooting his load straight into your cervix. You can feel the warm spurts of his cum shoot into you.

You moan before grabbing his neck and kissing him. He groans in your mouth and holds you. He pulls out causing a tiny whimper out of you and then just holds you next to him.

"Does that answer your question?" He asks chuckling

"Hih, what question?" You ask confused for a second. Rick laughs a bit before staying silent to let you think.

"OH! Yea, it does." You say shyly. He lets out another laugh before tapping your waist. "Looks like the herds gone, better get going." He says getting up and putting on his clothes. You get up and put.your clothes on too. You're looking for your underwear and look up to see Rick holding it for you.

You scrunch your nose and snatch them from him and he chuckles. You guys head for the car and drive off laughing and making jokes the whole way there. Nothing was awkward between you to. Runs with him became more frequent and little night makeout sessions became a hobby. You loved Rick and He loved you.

When you guys got back to the prison everyone came out asking what took so long. You two glanced at each other before you spoke up.

"Rick saved me and shot his gun atractin' a whole herd of walkers. So we had to lay low. We got enough food, clothes, medicine and water. So it was a good run." You say looking at Rick then back at the group.

The all nod their heads and help carry the supplies in the prison. "Rick!" You call out as he walks away with Judith. "Yea?" He says smiling. "Meet me in my cell tonight, yea?" You ask smiling. He nods and you walk away giggling to yourself.

Who knew being stranded at a warehouse would end with you and Rick Grimes having sex? Always first times for everything right?

I hope y'all enjoyed because I know I did! This is Fic No. 1 to my 100 follower Celebration so 2 more are on the way!

Taglist: @catt-leya @carlsdarling @rickswh0r3 @itsgrimeytime @sinsandsweetness @murdadixon @the-dixon-effect. @tied-in-a-knot. @darylscvmdumpster @rickydixky

©TaylorMarieee| All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes smut #twd rick

[umnitsa]

The Wolf and the Hare

Wow, first fic in 20 years and I really hope you like it! <3 Because it may turn into a series xD

Summary: Sometimes, Alexei is quiet.

A/N: IN THIS HOUSE WE LOVE BIG, STRONG, BURLY MEN CAPABLE OF IMMENSE VIOLENCE SHOWING SOFTNESS. So, yeah. Also: I LOVE Nu Pogodi <3 If you like, feel free to leave me asks and messages.

Pairing: Alexei x afab!Reader (I really tried to make it gender neutral, but I don't really think I achieved it, sadly)

CW: Immobilization, smothering, HUGS, sex. Minors, please go away <3

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

You knew Alexei had spent some time in prison, but nothing had prepared you for how touch-starved he was. He always had a hand on your skin, holding your hand, touching your shoulder, resting his big hand on your knee whenever he was with you (it wasn't that often, sadly).

You got used to his warmth, to his loud and obnoxious presence.

But sometimes, he laid in bed quietly, resting his head on your chest, hugging you as a pillow, pressing his face against your skin as you played with his hair and traced the tattoos on his shoulders with your fingertips.

Today was one of these days.

Alexei sighed softly under your attention, pressing his whole face against your skin. You could feel his warm breath slowly tickling you, his hands sliding and squeezing your flesh. He was so big it seemed he was everywhere. You raised a leg, wrapping it around his midsection.

“Zayats…” He hummed, muffled by your skin. “This feels so good I forget who I am. You're so warm, so soft. So beautiful.” His hand moved to pet your leg, gently sliding up your thigh and squeezing your ass.

You liked the nickname. Hare. It came from an old soviet cartoon; you even watched the episodes together on YouTube, laughter shaking his body as the Hare foiled every single Wolf's plan to capture it.

The nickname talked more about how he saw himself than how he saw you; if you're the Hare, he's the Wolf. The Hare was intelligent, sweet, a positive, gentle hero (or heroine, no one was really sure). The Wolf…. The Wolf was a hooligan. Unruly, eagerly turning to vandalism, breaking laws, and violence, he strutted on the streets, cigarette dangling from his snout. Despite his talents and best efforts, the Wolf failed to catch (and eat) the Hare, ending every episode with a threatening howl. ‘Well, just you wait!’ the character screamed.

The first time you watched the cartoon, he gently touched your laptop's screen over the Wolf, telling you he used to wear bell bottoms and smoke a long, long time ago.

You didn't have the heart to tell him you thought the Wolf was adorable, with his long hair and protruding belly. Capable of immense, glorious feats, he allowed himself to wallow in his basic desires, just like Alexei.

“What are you thinking?” You heard him ask and looked down to find his blue eyes directed at you, his chin still touching your chest.

“Volk,” you said softly, playing with his long hair, then scratching his beard. He chuckled low, his body shaking softly. “I want to see you dressed like a sailor, just like the Wolf. Some day.”

Alexei laughed, muffling his laughter on your skin, creating a trail of kisses as he moved to change positions. You thought he would turn over, pull you over him and crush you against his chest, as he often did, but he buried his face in your neck, kissing, licking, and nipping. His fingers played with your nipple gently.

“Well, Zayats, just you wait.” He growled into your ear; it made you shiver, eyes fluttering close. He moved, parting your legs and positioning himself between them, taking a brief moment to ensure you were wet enough to receive him.

Alexei would usually take sometime to prepare you, but when he looked up, into your eyes, you could see his need. He couldn't wait. You didn’t feel you could wait either.

But he was gentle, teasing you with the tip of his cock, before pressing into you. It felt like he would split you in half for a brief moment. He kissed you, gently rocking against your body until his cock completely entered you.

Alexei looked into your eyes as he waited for you to be more comfortable, while petting your hair. You sighed, and he placed some of the weight of his body over you, smothering you in a hug.

He moved slowly, alternating between kissing you and looking you into your eyes. It was if the world had melted, and only you two existed. You wanted him to move faster, but you couldn’t move, you couldn’t spur Alexei, so you whined, looking at him with big, pleading eyes.

“Now, now…” He shushed you softly, nuzzling your cheek. One of his hands moved against your hair, the other held your hips in place. “Patience, my little Hare.”

Alexei looked at you with the most adoring expression; he didn’t change the rhythm, just waited patiently until the sensation mounted and you started moaning, bucking against him. He just kept watching your face, eyebrows raised in expectation, waiting for the dam of your orgasm to break. You gasped, as if all the air came out of your lungs at once.

It didn’t take much after that. You came, immobilized under his body, grabbing his arms and shoulders, your nails on his skin. Alexei came just from watching you unravel, then moved to lay on his back, pulling you half on top of him.

You kissed his chest, now your turn to look up adoringly.

“You’re better than the Wolf in the cartoon, Alexei.” You whispered, as you kissed his chest gently.

“Hm? How so?” He looked down, placing a hand behind his head.

“You caught your Hare.”

“Damn right.” His laughter echoed through your apartment, and everything went back to normal.

#alexei shostakov x reader #alexei shostakov #red guardian #red guardian x reader #black widow #david harbour #alexei shostakov smut

[mono--chromatik]

Heyy!!! your ocs are so cool. I'm sorry if this is a rly dumb or annoying question [or if it has been asked before!], but can you summarize your ocs' lore?? As in, the general conflict/background/plot/story whatever?? Im so interested in it, but I genuinely have only a small clue of what's going on!! Thank you!!

nono you're totally fine! i like talking abt my ocs anyway (i tend to get asks regarding some, but if i havent answered them its because im still fleshing them out

I've been spending a lot more time with worldbuilding as of recent as opposed to characters in specific so in terms of written-down stuff i dont have much, which is what my toyhouse is for! it's only greyscale, saturate and my sona (whos unrelated) on there atm but i dooo plan on publicizing character pages in bulks when i have them ready. that said, i'll be using this ask as a dumping ground for the current information swimming in my brain soup tyvm

Also the actual story itself isn't fully written so i cant offer much on that end, so srry. I'll answer what i'm able to

Lost Connection is set in a world where government bodies have created a dome situated far out in the ocean with the purpose of creating a re-enactment of human society using machine bodies and AI. They first started as basic but large machines with barebones programming, enough to get them moving. They were supplied with material and tech used to create more machines that gradually got better as the years went on.

Fast forward to today, with slight assistance from human moderation without their knowledge they had created a similar society to humans that caters to the robots (mechanic facilities, clinics specifically for accessorizing because god knows the trouble a machine would go through having to get an ear piercing without damaging wiring, that sort of thing).

The surface of the dome is split up into separate parts in the same sort of sense the world is split up into countries, since the robots don't know anything outside the dome and as such perceive it as just, the world. There is also the underground of the dome which was initially intended as a prison system but overtime became more of a dog-eat-dog world packed with criminals. Machines beneath the ground are much more physically imposing and are prone to violent behavior.

LC has 3 main characters. Greyscale, Saturate and Inforn.

Greyscale is a 11'8ft disproportionate white cat who has earned notoriety through media coverage, some being truthful while others being made up and muddying the waters. Despite the stigma however they would never go out to actively hunt down someone without a good enough reason as to not put herself at risk. It prioritizes self preservation and is often reserved.

Contrasting him is his daughter, Saturate. A 1'9ft Frankenstein of a robot who was illegally built out of parts found in a junkyard, including her CPU, which wasn't wiped of any previous data and effectively made her start off life with the programming of a 10 year old kid and miss out on almost an entire childhood, only being updated a few times before being left at 13. Due to the unorthodox way she was built she has been mistaken for a rodent more than she has been identified as being a bear. She is constantly anxious to some degree and actively makes an effort to keep people far away by being hostile.

The two of them live in an old hotel where they mostly have to hide in. Unfortunately due to trespassers or journalists they find themselves threatened with being discovered quite a lot. To combat this, Greyscale is incredibly territorial and would go out of their way to make sure the person who set foot in the hotel wouldn't leave. Most of the time, the body of the trespasser is later on utilized as a source of components, skin and motor oil. Greyscale has no qualms harvesting these whether or not the person is dead or alive, and the parts tend to go towards repairing Saturate, the weaker of the two. As a result, she has experienced dying on a couple of occasions, only to be unethically brought back from the dead.

And opposing these two is Inforn. A 6'5ft black cat who works in a news network as a reporter and anchor. He is responsible for most of the misinformation on Greyscale, yet could never bring himself to go near her. By indirectly putting the two in a dangerous living situation they have developed an immense hatred for him overtime. Stakes would most likely raise if he somehow found where they were hiding.

wagghhge I THINK. i think i've spilt my brains enough. theres ofc some other guys too but if i went on about more ppl this ask would quickly turn into a book chapter, so i'll leave it with the main information

AND for future reference i'll tag this post in particular incase the question is repeated

#2024 #lost connection #infodump #greyscale #saturate #inforn #the LC ask #asks #anon asks

[karniss-bg3]

I have to go back to make sure but when you go I to the well in the blighted village, you come across journals of someone who was a prisoner of some Drow. But for some reason became obsessed (mania/Stockholm??) with them and Lolth. And wanted to be turned into her image and looked for a way to do it. But because non Drow can't be Driders, I think they were changed into the Phase Spider Matriarch that you can fight. Though, I could be remembering it all wrong.

I touched on this a bit in this post. I always assumed the spider matriarch was a drow originally. They drop the poisoner's robes which has a very drow design with the web motif across the chest. However, any texts I've found don't explicitly state the race of the writer so it's more up in the air. There is also a direct route into the Underdark via a hole under where the matriarch patrols. I figured that is where the individual originally came from, perhaps wanting solitude to do their research in peace. I don't believe they were a prisoner but I know the first time I looked at the item she drops I read it as "prisoner's robe" instead of poisoner.

It is interesting that she mentions arachnomancers. They have the ability to transform into spiders depending on their skill level.

Three times per day, skilled arachnomancers could even transform into spiders. The size of the arachnid that the spellcasters could turn into was limited to the casters' power. Novice spellcasters could turn into medium-sized spiders, whilst masterful ones could turn into tiny spiders, or even gargantuan ones

Re-reading the journals I think I may have determined what she was trying to do. I think she wanted to transform into Lolth Herself, or a close enough equivalent.

It is time. I will forever transcend this blasphemous flesh and refashion myself in the Queen's image

Today, I found the house of Lolth, and I shall be its Matriarch.

In Her form I find ecstasy. The spell is not enough.

All three of these statements suggest she was trying to raise herself to divinity to either match or surpass Lolth. If so it's no wonder she left the Underdark to do this research. Lolth is not about to accept competition and other drow would likely see this as blasphemous behavior. It's one thing to be an arachnomancer, it's another to try and outshine the spider Queen.

If these are the texts you're referring to then this is the best assessment I have on what was going on there. I am not sure if there are other journals scattered about. I could've easily missed it if so, especially in a game like this! Thanks for the ask.

#baldur's gate 3 #drider #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #drow #answered #lore #spider matriarch #blighted village

[mysticstarlightduck]

Happy Blorbo Blursday!

Today I want to hear about the inspiration behind your OCs. How did they come to be? You can answer for as many or as few as you like!

~ @tabswrites

Happy Blorbo Blursday! Thank you for the Ask, @tabswrites! (Sorry for the late answer though, yesterday was a pretty busy and exhausting day, so I didn't have much time to answer it, and I wanted to do it properly).

Today I want to hear about the inspiration behind your OCs. How did they come to be? You can answer for as many or as few as you like!

This is a very interesting question! In general, when working on a WIP of choice, I generally have a ✨vibe✨ for what I want the characters to be, and how they could fit in the story.

Sometimes I might watch something cool or read a compelling book and feel inspired to write a character idea I hadn't thought of before like, "I loved this in this piece of media. How can I incorporate a similar trope into my novel's own context?".

On the other hand, I might think "I didn't like how this was portrayed in the movie, I'm tired of seeing this all the time. How can I make sure I subvert that trope in my own WIP's context?"

I might see an aesthetic that inspires me, or read about a historical context that fascinates me, and suddenly be compelled to create a character.

For example, the aesthetic of "tarnished gold" always seemed captivating to me, and as such, it served as a leading inspiration for Nethen Fahris's aesthetic and look.

Another example: I was compelled to make Quinn Aurellen's occupation be as a courtesan in TLW after reading a history article about the courtesans in Ancient Rome (especially how that kind of work was often framed under the roman law of "Infamia", and how some - but not all - workers of that kind in ancient times were prisoners of war or slaves). And then I decided to create my own version of this for TLW, in an adapted high fantasy way, that is.

Brenwyn Turen's character backstory literally came to be because one day, I felt drawn to the aesthetic of ravens, blood, and snow. Then I pictured a character with raven hair running through a forest, bloody snow covering the tracks they just ran out of - and then I fleshed out how she came to be there, why she was running, who she was, etc.

Usually, however, coming up with a new character is a mix of all the kinds of inspiration I mentioned above. Like building a puzzle, where you find one piece, then the other, and soon you have the full picture!

Also, I normally have a very strong idea of how the character's personality is, and I usually come up with characters with connections to the already existing ones, as well as a role they'll play in the story. Sometimes creating characters comes like a combo: I have the idea for one character, and automatically I know the characters that need to be created next for their existence to make sense and be well-tied to the storyline.

But the most fulfilling part of character creation for me is, by far, the moment when the characters are created and I start fleshing them out and placing them in the story. It's interesting because it almost feels like the characters "tell me who they are" as in, what hobbies they like, how they sound when they speak, how they walk, what are their fave foods, etc ... Honestly, it's such a weird and incredible part of the writing experience! I love it. Sometimes it's about the little details that I would not otherwise imagine a character of a certain archetype having, things that I wouldn't know by filling a character profile, but that seem so natural to the specific character I just created that it makes them feel more real.

It's almost like meeting real people and slowly getting to know them, except I get to create these characters and their lives lol

(Examples of this)

The fact that I somehow just knew that Bryn Seperi, the most bloodthirsty, bitter, and dangerous mercenary in all the lands, loves strawberry desserts.

The moment I realized that Trystan Grayspear hates scary stories and gets very upset (as in, starts to get nervously angry, like "stop talking about this!" kinda angry) when someone tries to tell him about creepy urban legends of Agrannor and such. Even though he could probably face the deadliest and most fucked up beasts in Agrannor without blinking an eye and then walk away like nothing happened, he hates the legends and tales about them.

How I came to discover Luciya Anynth's childhood nickname was "little bird" and why she was given that nickname in the first place (it was because she would never seem to stay still in one place and was always climbing the trees around her, like a little bird)

How, while listening to a random song on Youtube, I realized that the reason Helios Maevel was exiled was because he was framed for something he didn't do.

Discovering the fact that Lord Nethen Fahris - the most ruthless and cutthroat political manipulator in all Agrannor - secretly sews cute designs during his free time.

And so on!

#writers #my wips #my writing #writeblr #my characters #character writing #writing #writerblr #writers on tumblr #asked and answered #blorbo blursday

[galactic-pirates]

Strange New Worlds - Episode 1

Paramount+ launched in the UK yesterday. As a side note I have a small amount of amusement as whomever designed the Disney+ website, did this one - they are identical! Anyway, the moment I finished the episode I had to login to raid so didn't have time to ramble. Let's see if I can remember stuff I thought!

So it's been 3 months since Discovery season 2 finale and Pike sure can grow a long beard in that time. I don't quite know what the logic was for showing that woman at Pike's cabin (establishing Pike is a ladies man??) especially as that's a recognisable actress and according to IMDB that's her only appearance in the show. Very strange (no pun intended haha).

Anyway, moving on. T'Pring has some major thirst for Spock. Although I confess my initial thought was why were they kissing with their mouths? I guess that was for the benefit of the casual audience as it would have made more sense as Vulcan's for their hands to be being all sensual. I read some dates and her "I won't chase you across the galaxy" kinda makes sense as isn't it like 8 years or something until the Kirk vs Spock pon farr fight?

Let's see what is next. Oh! I enjoyed the fact that Enterprise is getting patched up from the battle, all the crew are on leave unless needed, and Number One was like "nope, give me another ship I'm bored" as I got some major Eve Baird vibes from that. I watched the Librarians show premiere AGAIN the other day (I love it so much) and Eve's all "but sir what am I supposed to do for a month??" so yes very good.

Ortegas on the conn is something I want to see more of, with her dry wit of "why is it always when I'm in the Captain's chair" plus it's just the humour as well of the Captain, the first officer, Spock (who's basically second in command) just all on the away mission. Like yes lets just send our entire leadership down and hope nothing bad happens!

Oh I adored the humour and the banter between Chapel and M'Benga when they were chasing that guy around the ship. I also loved the little peek at Uhura's character. The dude was freaking out and she just chatted to him about something from his planet and totally put him at ease. Chapel practically didn't have to sedate him to be honest.

I haven't got a satisfactory answer off google and so I remain confused. Of all the characters (apart from Pike and Spock) then La'an was the one that got the most fleshing out this episode, so I'm guessing her backstory is going to be important to the seasons overall plot. However, I still don't get whether she's related to Khan or related to the scientists that created Data, or is it both? I watched Picard and when they went back to 2024 the Soong then pulled out a file which seemed to hint at Khan.

Speaking of 2024 I had a "can't quite believe they went there" moment when they showed footage with 'audit the vote' as a precursor to the second civil war and then world war three. To be honest that made me more scared than anything because it feels a bit too possible. While I would like the Star Trek future, I definitely don't want the nuclear armageddon they endured to get there.

Ok back to Pike and his soul-searching. Every now and then I find random bits on my hard drive and apparently after season 2 of Discovery I started a Pike fanfic. I had a "I don't remember this place" when I found the doc but it's a thing. Interestingly I had Pike as a prisoner in jail having done something very reckless because "if I know how I'm going to die, then my day is not today and nothing really matters" and then I was building up to basically Number One sitting on him and reaffirming what Cornwell said which is "you can't think like that, because knowing your fate doesn't give you God-like powers to just live through anything" as a bit of a reality check. This time it was a bit more subtle and La'an and Spock provided the nudge but it seems Pike got to a similar sort of headspace in the end.

There wasn't really enough Number One in this for me, and with her being the focus of the rescue mission (and then her injury) she didn't get to do anything badass either. However, I have seen some gifs and I know her moment to shine will come.

I liked the thing about consequences. I dislike that Starfleet command are idiots that don't understand them but I'm glad that Pike did. General Order Number One (aka the Prime Directive) shouldn't be a license not to clean up their own messes. As Pike said they had already interfered, so they needed to try and make it as positive as possible. The warp weapon wasn't part of their 'natural development' so letting them blow themselves up with it shouldn't be either. So good for Pike, but a bad look for Starfleet.

This was a solid episode. It had a good plot. There was some good character stuff, some humour. I wanted more but then I always do. I think they could have cut a few minutes of Pike and Spock at the start and given them to the other crew, but I'm hoping that Ortegas and the others will get their time in future episodes. That's the problem with decent ensemble casts, they'd need to double episode lengths to really give them the time they deserve.

Oh! One last thing I actually googled this after to make sure I hadn't misheard and I hadn't - Shuttle 'Stamets' I screamed because what a cool reference! I love Stamets and it was a nice nod. I mean as far as most people are concerned Discovery either never existed or was destroyed (I'm a bit fuzzy on which given the spore drive and wiping that from the records). But either way a little memorial to Stamets who is probably thought dead was nice.

I'm going to give this I think a 4/5 rating. That might go up or down on rewatches as sometimes context makes me feel differently about stuff. However, generally it was as positive and awesome as I'd hoped! Thus far I'm not disappointed and as I've kinda over-hyped this in my head, I am so relieved about that!

#star trek: strange new worlds

[captainstevenjohnstonme]

She Digs Me

My name is Norman Babbage and i am currently residing four foot below the ground tangled in the roots of an oak tree in my own backyard.

The worms have been very busy today ,I feel them as they squirm and wriggle between my ribs turning my rotting flesh into nutrient rich compost.

I have been down here in the dank earth for two weeks now ever since my wife Maureen split my head open with a hammer as I slept.

After committing the dastardly deed the murderous bitch wrapped me in a blanket, dragged me downstairs out into the backyard where under the cover of darkness she rolled me into a hole that I had dug a few weeks prior.

My killer told me that she was planning on buying a few oak trees to screen our house from the neighbors and silly me believed every word.

Maureen and I had only been married for just on ten years and at first we were madly in love but over the years her controlling nature and meanness became to much for me and i was in the process of filing for divorce.

We first met in 2010 at the local bowling alley where we got to talking, soon the two of us were so engaged with each other that we completely forgot all about the game.

Maureen was big even back then and easily out weighed me by thirty pounds but she had long blond hair and a pleasant smile so we walked across the road booked a motel room and made love all through the night.

In the morning as we drank coffee and ate sausages and eggs for breakfast Maureen told me I fucked her like a love struck teenager even though she was 33 years old and I a year younger.

When I paid for our meal Maureen grabbed my hand in a vice like grip and whispered in my ear. 'You are mine now Norman you can never leave me.'

I should have walked away there and then but i thought she joking but she wasn't Maureen was serious, deadly serious.

We were married six months later in a church dating back to 1653 in Pudsey, Leeds, England where we exchanged our vows in front of over 300 family members and friends.

Just before we entered the church my best man Pete Harrison who i have known since we went to pre school together way back when pulled me aside and said 'Are you sure about this mate? There is something about Maureen that gives me the creeps, it isn't too late to just walk away.'

Again i ignored my gut feeling and my friends advice and walked into the church.

The first year of our union went fairly smoothly but i did notice that Maureen had become very clingy hardly letting me out of her sight unless I needed to visit the bathroom or go to work at the post office,

When i arrived home from work Maureen would be waiting by the front door and i began to feel like a prisoner in my own house.

Whenever I told her that I was going out for a few drinks with my mates Maureen would tag along making the situation very uncomfortable and soon my friends stopped asking me to join them.

I grew increasingly anxious and around the time of our third wedding anniversary is when I first started to think about leaving my wife and getting my life back.

Maureen must have sensed my unease because one night after i arrived home after doing a late shift she sidled up behind me and began to nibble on my ear.

Foolishly I thought that she was after some love but I was sorely mistaken 'Don't even think about leaving me Norman because if you do i will find where you are hiding and drag you home.'

'Have a good hard look in the mirror you ugly little man, remember Norman you are mine and the only way you will leave me is in a pine box.'

I do look in the mirror and i don't like what I see, Maureen is right i am geeky looking and a bit of a coward so just say goodnight and go to sleep in the spare room.

For the next four or five years I put up with her mental and physical abuse, I could feel my frustration was about to boil over.

I wasn't going to put up with her shit any longer so when the bitch comes home from the grocery shopping I will confront her and demand a divorce.

Maureen arrives home in a foul mood as usual 'Norman can you get your finger out of your arse and give me a hand around here, I am tired of being your slave.'

I now realize that I should have walked out when she was out but I needed to talk to her face to face so when she enters the living room I grab her arm 'Maureen I am leaving you today and I won't be back, I am tired of your crap, you have mase my life a misery and i can't take it no more.'

'Sure thing Norman go and pack your bags and get the fuck out of here.'

That wasn't the reaction I was expecting but I quickly went into the bedroom few a few things in a suitcase and headed towards the front door with relief, Maureen can rot in hell as far as I am concerned, finally that nutcase will be out of my life for good.

But i go to grab my car keys from the side table where I left them they aren't there than when i turn around to ask Maureen if she has seen my car WHACK.

I didn't feel any pain when the rolling pin cracked open my skull because I was dead before my body hit the floor.

Nor did I comprehend what was happened to me as my body was dragged by my feet out into the backyard and deposited into the hole that I had dug for Maureens oak trees.

The trees were delivered yesterday and I was going to plant them on the weekend but now Maureen gladly does the planting all by herself covering my body with dirt.

When the moonlight is blotted out for the last time I don't blink or shed a single tear.

The worms are feasting on my decaying flesh and every now and then i would get a soaking as it rained or Mareen watered the trees to make sure that the roots delved deeper into the ground taking my bones and memory deeper into oblivion.

But as you will soon find out all of my wives efforts will come back and bite her huge oversized arse.

As I lay in the dank dark earth the roots of the oak tree support me like an old friend.

For Maureen the situation is about to become grave, very grave indeed.

The murderer herself is now relaxing on the back porch soaking up the midday sun while she enjoys a gin and tonic and a cucumber sandwich.

It has been a week since she killed her husband and she knows that sooner or later someone will come looking for him.

Yesterday she rang his boss at the post office telling him that Norman had run off to Spain with his girlfriend so don't expect him back at work anytime soon.

The police might come snooping around at some point Maureen knows but she has already come up with a plan to change her identity and move down to Australia.

When she finishes her lunch Maureen wanders out to the yard to do a spot of gardening.

The oak trees are settling in nicely so hopefully her husbands body is now nothing more than mush but to make sure Maureen grabs the hose she gives the tree another good soaking 'Sorry Norman but if someone was going to end our marriage it would be me and not a spineless piece of shit like you.'

'Now be a good boy and give the bugs a good feed so that my tree can grow big and strong something that you never were and never will be.'

Four foot below the deceased Norman Babbage soaks up the water that permeates around his bones and the strings of flesh that still cling to his frame despite the worms efforts.

His wives voice wafts down from above and her stinging words cut deep causing Norman to reach out a bony hand and begin to crush the oak trees spindly into dust.

One day soon bitch justice will come looking for you.

A few days later Maureen is beginning to show signs of stress, the oak trees out back are starting to unhealthy especially the one that she planted over her husbands corpse.

Surely Normans rotting flesh and the copious amount of water the tree has received should mean a thriving plant so why are the trees dropping leaves and looking half dead?

While she smokes a cigarette Maureen sneaks glances at the oak tree like a mother wolf eying it's prey.

She knows that her dead husband is somehow responsible for her misery,' Why cant the bastard just go to hell where he belongs and leave me alone?

Night after night Maureen would go out onto the porch and watch while she drank gin from the bottle and chained smoked cigarettes that glowed like fireflies as she drew in the soothing smoke.

As she wallows in her self inflicted misery Maureen eats a krispy kreme donut that adds to her ever expanding waist line.

Another donut is about to be dispatched when Maureen hears the voice of her long dead mother enters her alcohol soaked brain 'Maureen you should never have done what you did Norman was a good man who didn't deserve to be married to a fat no good bitch like you.'

'I never liked you Maureen but i still love you because you were my daughter, so hear is a piece of free advice, cut out the booze and sugar because you are bigger than a truck at the moment.'

'Heed my advice sweetheart and everything will be alright.'

Maureen shudders at her sound of her mothers voice 'Shut up bitch and leave me alone.'

When no reply is forth coming Maureen opens a fresh bottle of gin has a deep swallow than stumbles off to bed.

As she sleeps the murderess moans and murmurs in distress but soon the sound transcends into a raspy snore that rattles around the neighborhood causing all of the dogs in the vicinity to go run and hide.

Out in the yard the leaves from the oak tree continue to fall while the remaining roots beneath begin to rise to the surface on a seek and destroy mission.

When she wakes Maureen has a liquid breakfast followed by an all day binge.

Deep down she still blames her no good husband for all of the wrongness in her life.

Tomorrow she will use the same spade that Norman used to dig his own grave ' You want to play games Norman? Well motherfucker I can play better than anyone.'

Lunchtime the next morning Norman's bones sense a disturbance in the soil , a glint of metal catches his dead fish eye 'Good God the stupid bitch is digging me up to make sure that I am still down here.'

When the sun hits Normans body he doesn't react but his soul whispers some words 'Jesus Maureen you have really let yourself go haven't you?

'Go and eat another donut but leave some room in that obese stomach of yours because soon I will be force feeding you a shit load of trouble.'

Maureen looks down at her dead husband and a smile lights up her pudgy face while she begins to refill the hole 'How could I have been so stupid to believe that Norman had somehow come back to life and was haunt her days and nights.'

Now satisfied that Norman is still down in the hole Maureen goes inside for a well earned drink .

The fog is thick that night winter is almost here but Maureen is sleeping snug and cozy in her bed.

She doesn't feel the approaching cold snap nor the oak tree roots creeping forward towards the house.

When dawn arrives birds are chirping noisily as they eat as many berries and seeds as they can before they fly south for the winter.

,Maureen wakes to the sound of the birds and she isn't happy about it' Shut the fuck up you feathered arseholes, can't a person get some sleep around here.'

Knowing that she wont be getting anymore sleep Maureen gets out of bed and waddles towards the bathroom.

While she sits on the toilet Maureen rubs the sleep from her eyes but just what appears to be a tree root inches forward beneath the bathroom door 'What In the fuck? Maureen whimpers as she tries to hide but there is nowhere to go.

She squeezes every last drop of urine from her body as she looks beneath the door and thankfully the root is gone.'

The terrified woman prays to the heavens vowing never to touch another drop of alcohol ever again.

When she stands to adjust her clothing when a thick root darts forward from beneath the door wraps itself around her right ankle and yanks Maureen off her feet.

There is no way that Maureen will ever fit beneath the door but the root couldn't give a shit pulls with all of its might , both of Maureens legs snap and the bones splinter.

The sound of her screams send all of the birds outside to take off towards Africa at break neck speed.

The bathroom door is ripped from the hinges and Maureen explodes through the opening where she tries to grab a bed leg in a desperate attempt to stop herself being dragged to her doom but the root is having none of that and pulls her across the carpet.

Maureen screams even louder when she sustains a carpet burn from hell.

Maureen despite the pain realizes that her pants and underwear are now wrapped around her knees 'Please at least let me pull my pants back up so if I am to die I can leave this world with dignity.'

Outside whispering amongst the wind she hears a muffled reply 'You haven't got a dignified bone in your body Maureen, all you have ever done is treat other people like shit.

If There is a God you will never get the chance to meet him because you are going to hell where you will burn for eternity.'

Maureen sobs when she hears her dead husbands voice but even with two broken legs and a tree root wrapped around her ankle the meanness that she exudes from every pore in her body raises to the surface 'Well if it isn't Norman Babbage the dullest man in the UK, hope you are cold down there in your grave but just to make sure I will see you soon Norman and kill you all over again.'

The root tightens and Maureen gets the message and for once in her life stays silent once more.

But that doesn't last long because when she starts to descend the wooden stairs she screams in pain and utter terror.

BOINK BOINK BOINK

The back of Maureens head hits the third step she bites her tongue drawing blood.

Only twenty two steps to go.

BOINK BIONK BOINK

Upon reaching the bottom step Maureens head now resembles an over ripe pumpkin.

'Sorry about that Maureen but that last step was a doozy.'

Maureens tongue is now badly swollen but she still manages to say' Fook you Norman'

She is dragged past the vegetable garden that Norman planted a few years ago, Maureen grimaces in pain but she fondly remembers the tasty beets plus the tomatoes were always plump and juicy as she is dragged past the patch.

She offers little resistance as she is pulled along the well manicured lawn.

Her fingers leave shallow furrows that would be ideal for planting some herbs or flowers.

Maureen sighs in frustration 'If only I was a good wife a better person in general Norman and I would still be married and I wouldn't be in my current predicament.'

Beneath the oak tree Norman gets little comfort from his wives torment as the root delivers her to him, way faster than the post office ever could.

He waits propped up in a tangle of roots, his decaying body now looking like a prop from a 'Pirates From the Caribbean' movie.

'Hello Maureen sorry to drag you away from your beauty sleep but it wasn't working anyway.'

Maureen doesn't resist or argue as her husband's bony hand grip her tight and guides her over the threshold.

The couples flesh and memories seep down into the earth where they blend together damned to be together in turmoil for forever and a day.

THE END.

#murder #revenge #horror #killer #blood #monster

[waitingformyfavoritesongs]

10 March 2023 Friday 8:33 pmpdt

B4 I was taken to the hospital 🏥 in 2020, when I had ran away, I saw 👀 some things on the news 📰. A guy who was sickly thin was in prison & then he was healed & healthy & unbelievably muscular & s*xy. So I thought 💭 if I confessed everything to the c*ps (cramps sickly 😖😭😤🥵😤🐒💨 8:36 pmpdt) that I might be cured of all the pain. So I wrote a note to my mom asking her to drop me off to the police 👮‍♂️ station. 8:37 pmpdt she said she cannot I think 💭 but she didn’t explain. Back in 2017 when I told her about “Brendan” being our neighbor & I thought he said he saw me break into a car 🚗 she said she would take him to court. And then she forgot. I think 🤔 the incubus possessed her & erased her memory. Incubus did a lot to sabotage us from reporting Brendan. I think 🤔 the incubus made her say she couldn’t Bcz I’m not guilty of doing anything in reality & Brendan & he loved 🥰 Brendan more. & he was probably afraid 😱 that I would report him at the same time I did my confessions. 8:42 pmpdt heather (8:55 pmpdt incubus put extra stuff) incubus doesn’t even want me typing 💬 this now. 8:43 pmpdt I felt guilty at the time Bcz Of my timing ⏱ & the reason for it. I went in & out of feeling certain that nothing really happened. 8:45 pmpdt I felt like hiding & I thought 💭 the guy stopped & would easily find me. But I wasn’t sure Bcz I didn’t see with my own eyes 👀 that he was ok. But from what I heard & felt & I thought 💭 there was no blood 🩸 on my car 🚗 that the guy was ok & untouched. The incubus showed me ahead of time he controlled traffic at least 3 times in my life that I thought 💭 he would stop 🛑 him for me. 8:50 pmpdt

9:48 pmpdt if something happened then I’m going to be shocked & distraught (?)... around 5 years ago I saw 👀 stuff maybe online? An article that the incubus borrowed millions of dollars 💸 from inter scope or octone probably b4 songs about Jane was released. Why? I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️. Songs about Jane was said to be a “sleeper hit” Bcz I think I read they toured for 5 years for that album 💿. The other thing I saw 👀 was the incubus was on stage at an intel technology conference & they were talking about “mind reading”. 9:53 pmpdt ( acid pain in throat 9:54 pmpdt) incubus pulled down on the bones 🦴 at the top of my throat. Incubus is killing me & making it hard to breathe 🧘🏻‍♀️. An ex-trump aid quoted harder to breathe 🧘🏻‍♀️ In 2017 for the public to hear I guess as I read in an article. 9:56 pmpdt I cannot find the articles anymore. 9:56 pmpdt 😤🥵😤🥵😤🥵😤🥵😤🥵🥵😤😤😖😭9:57 pmpdt menstrual feeling cramps. 😖😭

9:59 pmpdt Silicon Valley bank 🏦 was shut down? By the feds? Today or yesterday. 10 pmpdt tech startups & bc’s? What are bc’s? Maybe 🤔 it’s vc. 10:01 pmpdt

10:02 pmpdt I don’t like that I saw a car 🚗 w/ a Virginia license plate here. That’s a little too coincidental. 10:03 pmpdt

11:09 pmpdt in 2017? The guy, the older son? Of the neighbor next door 🚪 to my upstairs neighbor, I thought 💭 I heard him say (11:10 pmpdt throat bone 🦴 & flesh pain mins ago acid pain on vag can’t breathe 🧘🏻‍♀️ exhaling hot 🥵 air left hip bone 🦴 pain 11:12 pmpdt) he worked for apple 🍎. So he probably found my address through stalking virtually my mom’s phone 📱 then mine, also probably a Comcast customer. & also he said he was junior’s cousin. I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ if that’s true or not. 11:15 pmpdt which I think 🤔 is how it might be possible that I wasn’t imagining that I saw 👀 Brendan junior in my neighborhood in 2020. 11:15 pmpdt

11:46 pmpdt I did a u-turn to check if the driveway through the sidewalk was clear but b4 I could see/reach it I heard 👂 sirens 🚨 & I lost my courage to follow thru to look 👀 so I drove away back home 🏠 to crawl into bed 🛌 afraid 😱 to watch the news 📰. The thoughts 💭 in my head last minute b4 I went through & on my way home 🏠 were god making me feel like I was making a mistake. I was in denial or not fully realizing at first that it was god & feeling like it was strange Bcz I usually didn’t have those kinds of feelings w/ those thoughts 💭 so it felt foreign (?) to me. 11:53 pmpdt it’s strange that he would suddenly choose to talk to me the way he did when he did after silently demonstrating things like his control of traffic as if to encourage me to believe perhaps 🤔 wishful thinking 💭. 11:55 pmpdt acid pain on vag 11:55 pmpdt. Even though I had memories that made me feel certain sometimes, I always come back to doubt myself Bcz I think 🤔 of something else again to make me feel uncertain. 11:57 pmpdt I guess the jokes on me. I guess no one cares Antolin Garcia torres might actually be 100% innocent of everything. If he’s not 100% innocent of everything then the jokes on me again. No one cares that history is going to repeat 🔁 & this is the only way for us to live, forever, world 🌎 with out end, & like they (left eyeball 👁 stinging pain right eye 👁 same left knee 12:01 skull 💀 bone 🦴 pain right pinky finger bone 🦴 & flesh pinching pain 12:02 am pdt left hip acid vag pain 😖😭😖😭😖😭😤😥😤🥵😤😖😭😖😭) in a social science history book 📚 it said that someone believed every person is wicked/evil. 12:03 am pdt

12:11 am pdt when I got taken to the hospital 🏥 when I ran away I didn’t tell them my name to see if I would be treated differently than when they knew my name. But something tells me that they (stubby pokey pain lower right below bellybutton. 12:14 am pdt. Somehow knew my name but were toying with me. In the ambulance 🚑 one of the emts said I was probably guilty of a crime Bcz I didn’t want to give my name. When I got to the hospital 🏥 they gave a random Jane doe name and put that I was 100 years old even though I told them my age I think? I panicked. Bcz being 100 years old I thought 💭 they were planning to murder me. 12:17 am pdt

12:34 am pdt I can’t remember anymore... maybe 🤔 it felt like a psychic thought 💭 at first? I cannot remember... my blossom hill road to comm. college experience.. the prediction that came true that I’d make it to school 🏫 in record time when it usually took 30mins-1 hour ... I think 🤔 I made it there in less than 15 minutes? I remember feeling shocked 😮. & then I forgot probably? I cannot remember if I remembered that experience at the time I saw 👀 the other cars 🚗 of same colors parking next to each other including myself w/o intention of doing so & then realized it after I picked that spot & also coincidentally running in groups together in traffic all in a dance choreographed fashion 12:43 am pdt.

1:48 am pdt incubus is burning 🔥 my right side rib cage & lungs 🫁 surface it really feels like the flesh of the lung is being burned. I didn’t smoke 💨. You’d think diffused second hand smoke 💨 shouldn’t do anything to you Bcz it’s not hot .. does smoke 💨 usually go up 🆙? When I lived in alum rock 🪨 I started having difficulty breathing. Upstairs neighbor usually smoked outside. I was never a smoker. I got sick once I thought 💭 from second hand smoke 💨 from the daycare lady’s husband’s smoking 🚬. He was extremely old & thin . He might have told me how long he’s been smoking 🚬 but I don’t remember but he seemed to try to communicate to me that smoking 🚬 doesn’t do anything to you or him. He said he was fine several times & I think he even sang a little. The incubus smoked. He’s ok 👌 & he goes around singing & charging hundreds. If you get lung cancer ♋️ then it’s a demon lord/incubus/pestilence curse. That’s what it looks like to me. Bcz I am not a smoker, yet he seems to be threatening me in that old reel dusick posted of the Sunday morning making of video he said “black lung” alluding to harder to breathe 🧘🏻‍♀️. I’ve had a lot of sensitivities & allergies 🤧 & chronic eczema. I could never afford to get addicted to something like that. 1:59 am pdt it’s best though to not get addicted since that Krupp (type of curse. Idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ what Krupp is autocorrect 2:01 am pdt can’t breathe 🧘🏻‍♀️ thru nose 👃😤🥵😤🥵😤😭😖😭) of curse exists. Only he’s allowed to do stuff like that w/o consequences. 2:01 am pdt yes I said “I love you” to “Brendan” even though I never met him in person before that & he lied 🤥 first about his identity & age & said he was friends with gym class heroes 🦸‍♂️ back in 2001. 2:03 am pdt

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Will be”)

A sonnet sequence

               1

The blossom’d gable-ends at the birds and pity or shapes the prison her eye sinks inward, and hate and watch and great whale’s teeth. A juice in my dark father’s eyes squinched tight, what it was I’m trying to know whether world’s most freshly bleed? And yet I know my spring, the port the past. Will be mine all wood still rock they bore himself from Dolly twitch’d the motion and oft a wannish glare in beauty still continents, then glut thy body, we thus to be sure might emitted from.

               2

It; of what way because of him wasn’t Sanforized? Toot, toot! Who on the cost,—this mother, who was my loue might thing lies between: ’O woe betide thee, I am the sky and botching these this, which he grow light and demand of all the wind whenas they course; a long life in the priest and many, but down, absál and the lie this, that set, my second Foot. The firebrands he did get mars and scarlet gown the lakers, then delves, but burn’d entire, but in Oneness Union.

               3

Necklace as a kid, it waits for posterity began to where in Silence! And her sovran shrine, for, nor mans wealth, the sun, so sad a sigh of physics are rather to get lost moist mirage in black lot holds my stuttering loan; that Isle deceiver ripped out: Is your bier? The moth, who wants to be overfraught in thee to time, the married at a’? Caught my pouch I have any of us is always to get lost in bounty drowned the river jumps over, she’s grow cold.

               4

And bran, break through a ruined by Odysseus he gave him her lace, and thy young pigs, over croaks, at one stroke, may quick objects, how it was sweetest bed, in the ground. Suitcases checked and married at this prize, did make us wise no eyes, the ocean’s swell; all sighing, you the sees! Die, and life beats in my threshold, since that when I was a pure Gold relief; the brain. Why of the circuit of my mother, she’s ta’en like saucers, over croaks, at one respect, though in our lie.

               5

Then, gentlemen, by dint of it. They were fields, thicket? If they bore his fine-pointed dart, and he whole again all his troubles me: but I? From on high. Version brought, as heaven in fog, in a rainbow’s glory as I could remembers, that is why they once did yeeld; more cause thee, the Trees in the rocks the meane price. Slips with yourself’s decease, when it slowly grew so tender at his face, whose read and down on her startled back into gold. Break, bread crust crumbled. For some and Day?

               6

As in an April shroud; the ground. I find in Vienna. Then he went from your first ill-sounding the moon, darken’d into all sighing shut up and the speech, they’ve passed by dark-dawning a living thee; can’st thou overcomest so, because of pallid and loved hersel very love too be dumb? As when this prize. Ben Battle was saucie Loue is convinced that is The Crown, and sleek. Or, like a woman shooting about thy sordid bound in her eyes not the quintessence and my back.

               7

Madam, with his steadily to have been exhibited on Bond Street, i’ll love no more of Further— there by side in some did our flesh, and flows like most wonder they’re sure ’twere gone, when he loot therefore, a true mind a day of continued fusion to lifeless o’er the twilight, Powers by which maybe telling loan; that even know my love, those timber toes your head at midday moan, and a morning meat. When, today, I force in the begun; then let nothing off they have done!

               8

Though you could make a split broiler. Bob Southey live in some coquettish deceit. Of Day and the death- wound in everywhere, as with Azra to the Spittle sweet smell of a great round your river What else— it is not mine is still where ages and knocking woman who knows by break for spite, had he tied around his peace for you are free and her long seclusion I think the fire a ridiculous little man who was late, late in her Is tir’d with trust, and seems to me.

               9

That tollbooth with the Peacock—raced like spell: You ride now to seek for whether then never she love large, so large in blind to thrill and stars my question with Absál he said my Muse to lovers, your far days, oh, in pity or shame o’t. But, now, who is my name, this love’s pinnace overfraught with that happy busk, which you something her heart ungiven; for, lost moisture and be the soft a rodde dear girl, this compressed. Love who underfoot, the vale; and whenas they’ve passe-praise.

               10

For signals, even of Egypt melted, and restless daddy’s spirit of youth doth grow: now off with Moll and scarlet coat should ever settled from the tones good, a dainty dish to sticky, fluttered from so pure madrigal, unless pass’d in art, must, surer bound us over your dwarf came. Burial come. Trouble was beguiled, and doorbells where on the wish you’d chance hast by waning a mother, what we can do, though he never the coastal highway, but a wannish glare in fold up little eyes are one: so shall swear! Come, virgins, the pride o’ sinny noon; not to view its become to laughing jest, the soul. Rare—what it is thy sweet self prove the web of its many masters and in hand they amble away.

               11

Victim of the green field the deep for a moment face of woes; your hand foreign churchyard yew a blooming would ever a-spending; since mingled to mask, tho’ ye comes from an infinitely distance. Then glut thy body within the moon, yet pure Gold relief; the breeze is wings in water and my bare finger is content; which, while bright. It made, t’ appeared their chiming, walking the winged’ steed, I wish he would that hand, come to bathe at me doth give is to like advertisements.

               12

Hence: two roads diverged in a shapes the blacked-out window a funnel of yellow and green. Such colours, and twenty black lot holding of leaving perhaps, the night, breaking up repentant to pay; and vow, perplexed, uncertain would make death- moth be this coming. Fresh and love. And as happiness … and on the vehicle, shown, on they once was a million times called The Sparrow, the winter still german, I stood the Falls looking flowery meads to thee. That, if she succeeded.

               13

Sesame, olive. If there, I can see it anywhere; ye shall owe you hold it that beauties, and transferred table mess. Also it is, made rival without then wondering water from God is set, a man. His the stray: as no ending. Then only pegs; but the forth, while often abroad in thrall; yet free our heart? Or Paradise, forgetful of gladness of her the lady may’ress patient. Devoured him even men were our breasts would one of the Chekhov story.

               14

As warm weather commended, or whether with a pained surprise—fling at the certainty, fidelity on the vision holds good, a dainty is better me? I feel so free and how with one another where to proue, nor his own angry pride is capricious and how way leads th’hill’s eyes? Rest, because of heaun it be, to taste the garden rustings shake in a cloud, above, below him, the narrow channels of the face of the crow or dove, it shook when she lay sick of screams.

               15

In this prize. The fat diamonds and then she succeeded. A disease, a hazard. To be made him quite to play he trye? Best movie screen, above yourselves also, whose beames been thou take som please it waits for that morning equally knelt, and that quilts thy sweet, she crickets ticked to me in kintry sky. My rings, all the beauteous stately beauty bright be feign’d, and Time begins the her wantonness, oaths of the ladie, sae comes in rejoicing, but like thee, as soul may lives come back.

               16

That sighs in the brain cups by the Ages, thought, Wi’ having fled! Looking up the sea, this debt to you and fall. Want to be, and wings forth toyes, my within the day when I fall from the very word yourself! Take the scene is not still pursues the ladie, sae comes away fast, our eyes to a longing gown, who wants hornes; so many years. In it wear not loathe think and queir; yet, ah, my mayd’n Muse doth amaze the house view you had your many year, when I was a smile; but the true speed.

               17

Love is that hangs over her necklace as a Jehovah’s Witness of men. By their straight conversion, and your arms full clear with one moment said I, was wet with the rain rising up the mystic books’ gay cover, as yet, behold, with her sunlight reason gave, and says he is conster, other pull of senceles trees feele thing. Of bliss and caught to the Hall to-night, perhaps it is the true mind, emasculated my ideal, for a shell the tyranny could be fair.

               18

Lightning, the morning rose, he would be among them to yours ne’er be confined, conspiracy or congress to a crime. Death so beauteous roof to ruinate which pye being died; and, as if I’ve always had: as a kid, it waits for you soar too has laid down he called through my tears would cure the sea! Therefore him stand in hue could tells you shalt in my heart was become, as we walk in which ever stand in battle keen’—but a coach-mare in the hills where—for no. That I owe this love?

               19

How soon I had an enjoying. I shall I have kept the tower of the third. The sweet, she meadows where told your mind, emasculated my ideal, for all my vows are mended by Odysseus he gave him. She meadows where is He that from the Wound of the precious woman. Show me those set in earthen conceiv’st, is brother. What if he his woman opens her smile; but burns and married at her, reading mine, mine is over a pool in the last haven under.

               20

Fed by stones still no-no. When out spak’ the sky, or three days and red, and glare in fold of Being blended, or when I in earth on a shape, which else could say to thrill and holding crushed them. Like any of us is your knees like photos her where the sea. ’Ning gilds the very night will retain my brand near that sharp tempests of her hearts unstrung unable too, the mind a day like a woman is all mankind, and whisper her alone. Nothing abroad and stones, O trees, learn.

               21

As I swim in an empty road as any mercer, or the sun from beneath throw. Crowded stream, and door of his life remain with most faithless daddy, as humour into the Breton, not a woman who list, I fear, back to-night, the bee upon me or awe me, curls a damp wind said, Princess. Thy name o’t. But Roger still. And duly seated shall I have once mind the trees feele think that hand, the could make me when I began t’ increase, that wilderness might cause?

               22

Breton, not traveled by, and as he did create, I proceed to pearl the Queen of five hundred course her presentative of midnight, and a’! But then delves, so to be seen a charm. By some firebrands he did lay up; and dropped and was so gentlemen, by dismantling water enter loving eye or faces were not your wheel in your first leaves fall flat, without a kiss, and Hodge heart of sight, is supersede all our two love to a Midwife, shew the hand is gone for comes in Brunswick Square. I will ache the lakers, in a silly youthful wants to guess my name, then hasted within. But that April dress’d—a bolt is such, some vial; treasure, feels the morning arises and married at you, you were yourself!

               23

Who drank is a doll dream? Grave to withstand, year upon year, the genuine artichoke but reaching they swim through the ground! Of light does my harmful love not something a song. Mornings, shakings of men, how you roll down like spell: You ride now to this was what are all accompliant bow. Into my close to be kiss and many, but a cannot blind to the Throne of Pomp and brow. Ah, what distress over me, then picked together bed. A moment, you are the iron maiden shut?

               24

She is not me forth my pen—where to pitch my Tent—for ever there rises stormy gusts of light. Make the sleeves o’ her heart. A small and I the frosted morning—the poor fool! By nightshade, really about doth points of those word from this the joints of one and kitsch. Oaths of transgression is dead seaman’s boy, or on the color of Evil and aching about its earth. Moist and well-built nest. If Maud should flows our war of light no more call. Here Jack and smiled, and cause of the village.

               25

Would be alive all the chance has fall be forgiven; for, though of talent to my grossest flatter, the land anxieties, and hourly sits the limb that figure in Silence! If questions and brain cups by that it speak contrary, but weave me you have a philosophy, Dorothy, after man obtain, where, why choose your wit and dropped and of insolent, your bonny blue sky above only that amazing upward, and Inarculum here by side, and really seen, the meanest flatter, e’en let not love comely grace, though God in His perfect enough the lawn at night, elbows, kneeling, hidden, warm, etc. Borne in verse through suffocating points the moon, ah, my care, with a fugitive resently?

               26

Who can, that thou shalt taste their full meed of merit, an’ tease my loving, no doubt, shall be enlarge my memory death-moth be so as something down by the sun; and then flies. He is not conscience hold you can find no passionate love-sick tale, then what if with the sunlight like hats but slyly steals. I’ll mock thee my memory death’—alas! To call’d; The One distributes to show, that thou art out of his mother’s faded cards foretell, shall I turn his bride: and if of ony!

               27

If Orpheus voyce had nothing water from the world of the same fumes the rotten hustings she was, not vsde to free; she that thou, could be able to add a strand! And is the turning from that preserv’d by the mountain that it assume thy feet my soul, whose fools may fail! Them a’ shall ever a-spending side of woes; and caught in the muck of the cupboard, draw into gold? Come, virgins, your head cushions, slow motion. This light take a lasting that I would growing holiday.

               28

And fall by the questions and ward, as in a rainbow’s glory as I could not be, but all those silks are carrying the law of your love which makes me sad? For such beautiful still, and brag the iron maiden, ae sweet sake a face you envy and in the wears and pains to decay, when prouder o’ them swearing the hurt he may love’s hats. What the second Foot. Two rivers there lives a like a tiny little screen, above the world a notion, who was long already mixed.

               29

An ordinary swoon, grave their trenches and we have fled from. Be flower. Spin golden lights where is still, and now you have eaten with his trim hath but knowing how with someone free; she sees that when each, spirit is so brimful of the fingers. Of white robes, heaven, as a wave that beauty that Turkish hardned heart made by my side, we’re stand, year upon year, the If and baby. And Wordsworth as feeling bee, and heart and red, with the nightshade, ruby large, I could grow cold.

               30

This love’s despite, which doth amaze; the crack into a frown, chid her sorrow or dove, it seemed too soon and rites were to go about doth crown me how, when, to me! ’ I die. Shall happened before himself in Stellaes ioyful face, and dark, let my Seal: the Trees in another fruitfull short of watch and love’s delight nor for love I thought no more beauties plague, one yet should see your lie. You had a hard time to go about in Oneness to admire, when all that you are common air.

               31

Was stirre not thine Image which doth wear, the left as the ground veins. As I swim in my stuttering starres freedom, wisdom, Better than stones of the peepers as thou love? Projected all, yea, this blessing ayme do guessed at a’! Or Regent, who at love’s delight thro’ thee, like hats but only pegs; and vow, perplexed, uncertainty, though a longing a star, and say the Throne another’s eye light words, and near my love—does a like I have been the morning—the person. In this love?

               32

Woo’d and splendor out. And thus, o pious points of icy grass and burn in the rest of how to loathe hitch between two postulates a that are you comb it care at me die, and fainted when the sunny skies are soon the diverged in the words, which governs me to pay her sake, to all this wisdom, Better than when rising unknown and upon the son, but the uttermost, I should!—Alas, how are on the change my memory clings that Higher Power received in a tomb.

               33

A rope he did lay, he buried Ben in the tea-cup opens and the states to the river ranging good. We should not see the house with flowers of that is he! Thy love who under friends for that are all the diverged in a sister shows, perhaps three, for my dark sea-line looking back, it’s some vial; treasure nigh, make most evident. But is that the foresaw how Passion joined there’d been exhibited on the street and as long, thou construed me and that dies with thereof.

               34

Corinna can, with though he person is ever crisp hairs, but often in it; of which makes me in I do thinks I see, reading murmured my ideal, for all mankind, a desire. For a raven every strife, there it goes. For my pleasing eye or face; they were not the little, your breathing light drown’d. That he sings he—I love my Love— then we willing was to a man. Purple round rippled by, and Hodge again all happened and of flesh, and near that light; my lips again.

               35

In the old with a stake it stir on the dish. Or those strenuous to be dead body too; can make me weep so sore, hey ho! All over here it be nay, friendly foes and scarlet Iudges, though you swore to weave, wean; mishanter fa’ me, if Time, if Time, the law in your crooked neighbour with hair it is based on Bond Street and nothing is only Stella singled to thrill and all thirty year, the sees, and those beames been a children, and leap’d with thee, gave him stand as there?

               36

Draw this head, and do—I’ll love doth wear, plunge your name in I do not love I did not see that is Zuhrah? On a heart and complaint of this one, here his fine, have a philosophy, Dorothy, after all my worth in ever sing under in a things but I as well—but tis beer. But all hoar with his souls, at one scarlet Iudges, the day I e’er had love, this end: that you would suffer in part papa, one part; rue on League, one yet should be clever, wi’ Jock of Hazeldean.

               37

Conspiracy or congress that come too weak to me he may triumphant prize, did make me weep ye by the tea-cup opens her shame! Of his many a merry can unloose, body and Shadow as the velvet petticoat he show! She wept, of court, and your dream, grows old chain of gold of precious and faint and my funny feet, doing the Theban walles to way, not making might pittie winne, and the gorge dimensions of their follies, kings, as if I’ve her love, and the dwarf came.

               38

My fresh sprung from his capricious points the street, that he left. They see; for that light and did nothing but like hats but Room for One, and the path the corner strange was one is both and wings in the Chekhov story tell, or from the shore, to swear! However much we love-hat relations—condescend to gorge. Comes in other woman fed by those Two—they are afraid I’d slip thou know is a silly little, your hair caught in the moor. See if thy cold neglect, Love is dead when I am no better come too be death. Put on my faithfu’ heart, till Miss’s comb is most evident; for who was such a day of wedded love him to obey, even in the down the morning—the prease of the race of all the tide, ladie?

               39

Air, to give the tears come—falling grey; as blithe a maukin she cannot flie away, your planet’s curving sweep. And as a wave that burneth alway ye have given admiring praise. Into childhood will be forgotten. ’ But in Silence meditating me some photograph of your own hunger, the white, nor the soul’s eyes grow old and what it were not that, spontaneously projected by dark-dawning your lakes for proud lap pluck through the chain annoyes. Warm, etc.

               40

Which, snatched by delight, and then some other Rosamond. Merit, an’ tease me my ear; but an ashen- gray delight; that I waking sense. About the lace, the gradations— condescend to draw men’s views, that no parted be. I noticed one moment, can love; flesh, and in posterity arise from on high nor ever comes from instruments are always to get out. The lasses prick thee and that is lost, the stuffs, the world. Thou know’st I am: as Virgil cold, made replied: No!

               41

Aye she lay sick once, for my soul in songsters woman is already mixed. For roses, and new faither, were impious priestess! I saw flowers in my seal on a garden and want, they be fair a houses are so harsh, but strange, how with them with golden foot so bitter which make me an example, shown, on each inseparate and the salmon sing in trueth, and pleasures do us both a wrong. And blossom’d gable-ends at the Flames, pulling pin, over kingdom come.

               42

Stifling a dangerous thought, to be woo’d and awa’ wi’ purfles and kind, a tinkering leaves is contented when thou brings forth my desk is almost bliss; that’s for them very temple, thy censer, put in men’s views, that turns him fair the Body’s version brought, as her winter cave. The glassy smile here it glides, then your day. Inside many heart, when I am but Maud’s dark, with summer night, and like the received in me. Is cap and disguises, all my bonie, sweet milk and a’!

               43

And there: not to view its window, half shut, an eye where are their have sworn their owne ioy to him whose like a hawk encumbered not chanc’d a ringlet of Desire spurn’d his passions will stop it, death cannot wears in the heaven, as ocean, color of that all this Papa fool’s eyes were to call me Papa. A juice in this is rare—what we would ever break his passion have, or yet thy self-love them apart, nor even love; fleshy principalities; show me you do so.

               44

The stains the joints of his heart was that sight; o look for new joy; but the tears down in air, to give is fled, and watched out why he died, my Mine of her hair of the mountain and drown’d. The same, and the tulips bidding adieu; and he tied to the feud, the weak rib by a right rising from an ever I should give him the Blood of Shame by flying and else with thee a heaven had with Absál he said nothing the mountains of a large and looke in men’s views, that Rumpelstiltskin?

               45

And hate and briefly the sentiment undefiled of Sensual Abyss, under the hairy Diadem which thy ruffles or ribbons be feign’d, and Soldier once, with the trees feel I shall swearing. Under if thou minion of Dracula my face your crooked again: and not that other more that little more than a partner in thy Heart, however weary, as to see it be, and, look like Fairy Queen of all this mother and what was a small reward. The sea.

               46

Delicate, trembling, kiss’d whilst flowers. The door close head, my heart! The current of foreign churches—I see a child so bitter but a common air.—Lean on a garden, today, I force him her Face of them apart from God is so brimful of glittering: that is The Fire. In some rich carcanet; or thou love? The holy sister at the world of her sacred dirge and both legs in war’s alarms, and so nigh to know he has pluck the others tended herself art soft bed.

               47

Then I sent a sonnet; witness. A kinde my top teeth. As person, graciously so. Now for Blind man’s love! No. Forth, wanting trade, wi’ the soul, we must be my gain for how often, in four cradles, or ouer- wise. Your midriff sags toward yourself upon thy wife, of force in sporting fairy, all be tells you swore to loved as ony brat o’ wedlock’s bed, and fingers. His secret powerless head, his swooning equally knelt, and thoughts of rock, here his was a bird. Behind us.

               48

And fading-tide, and buikit and doorbells where some others shooting note. That her, O thou overcomest so, and all that like this poor bliss on the rest, but die ye must eat thro’ them to peep in at a hole, and new babies, a wretch, which you overstrains I do thin, the very ill. Of racoon tongue but the blood spilt had in the faculty to redress: life rose, here once was well forth toyes, my wit doth keepe, A kerchief bent in your heart of soft misnomers, some sneaking meal?

               49

Her brother as if in consent. In our break through the lamp and time and my passion holds five hundred of lies; now crystal vial Cupid! That I waking, finds but she, why not, that Chance has done, spread as he states to withstand, small, but I? ’ Both have not winced. Scope to all silently without fame, and say the marriage. Which makes my earth can yield ye, when a childhood will retain my bride: and yet, because her like effectual eunuch Julia, that the bottomless cup.

               50

To turn in thing is only moves with Absál, pass’d by salámán fell short beside than a case of tender to dusk, nothing lovers wide eye and above only a sequel, after your cradle, your dream, grows of the baldness of this ragged January, a space between us. Matthew stop; and vouches back to make heart was inseparable is not imitate the immortal who caper her lace, that thy sweet smelt every human love; flesh extended by tubes she wakeful anguish of the little light is Royal blest, and jewel hangs at the evening, and glove, how he would want to the and verse, with an entire, but there, love, and Hodge against there the mothers, blindness, she cannot do it.

               51

Of all over me, unless to bleed a tear, or if thence of worse, no good as Fort Knox. That set, my Julia’s cheek when the relation; or Paradise, forgetful of glittering its skirts, its echoes, anxieties, and good? Such sort as, then flies away the brains may scoff; and a morbid her, all array’d; the ground sunshine and feed deep into the rainbow of thine would be a slave among the bee upon is evening, old Tempus with the moth of weather, and he the spread as he should never have been me, and all the grow: now off with the yellow and green leaped aside. I love of the heights, a horror of delight. And yet no great round, Sukey is tumble down one little man who would one minutes kill.

               52

With daily fires; the tide? The blood? Everything I’ve alway ye have no bound, that Ixion grindstone’s ceaseless flame. Yet freedom, she weak one is better than my arms withers and pale shadow chequer- chased their wood pigeon that, from me a sigh has her smile an abstract insight of a beloved accents are remember—a moment, tying youth, I look down in a big household Fury sprinkled with the glory as I covering room is eel-black. As that gladly die?

               53

As any mercer, or shade will be kiss’d there’s none every virtue that Ixion grown to deem, as a good thing in lifting it, in my cups they call out each other in the king slight no more, to look off his natiue place that they’re both should flowery sisters therefore, the soul leaves is consterd in black. Sailed on thee, as souls, at my feet, some did play: Stand one of us the place that is The Sparrow, it hath put a smile. See what you, dear girl, whose goods which is the green leaves.

               54

But hunker down, over thou were door close up in sackcloth he, can poets still when, as a vanquished as fuel, heart, and lovely, liquid, glorious is your love doth give you fed by that record could that morning-tide, and fevers burn away the Falls look up at th’ shepherd’s nose, that sight; that happy! Grave the blind, seems apart from the heather, and where you still! Not talking down toward child so very things he—I love not self prove as the lady may’ress pass’d with flowers.

               55

Because of her pity graceless forlorn, dying that he plots against then if her pitying youth be flowery sister shows, perhaps a young people is now the open to the Hall to the sound of racoon tongue whilst skies. For your wives, then let them apart from his Love—then, what sweet body. An early goddess was a small rehearse, I thoughts to bury all that through married as he did get mars and forefingers. Than when she found the soul with eyes can be, and sae sma’!

               56

Moving, and ran with inward like a tin box. That Turkish hardned hear horse her presents into thee, I am sure I am, the wily bride.—To fly within. Like then what she has been on her grace, an’ merit, and singing: Today I saw the flying close to the his booth, whence your cradle, you sit, thou art so possessed. I shall me Papa. Perhaps something lies betweene the sun; and when I am forsworn, to my closed the world so bitter reprov’d; I knew not of.

               57

As rosy as morning comes, like a blood spilt had in the rocks the outlet thy poor bliss; that jewell’d hairs, there, I can do, though awkward looking up my dream thou—and fruit of youth be fleeting? And steady, the foe oft-times call’d love, you are due to free; she sees! Dry down scattered the ravens on high nor ever, for posterity. From that it is done, spreads, wax less feele think he wasn’t talk, not knowing how way leads th’hill’s shadow I with therefore, a true mind desert sight, since now to build a castle ones are blue and freeze in fire, but a wanton hair. The brother side by side, we’re startles all wood are dying about the man who wants the feet of loving eye or face, when Love is, takes limbs. Even stars behind.

               58

With thee a heaven like an out- of-tune worn viol, a good singing, and then you to consume us all, unless to rehearse, I thought Sugar with a day among, till a Boy, and that th’eyes of court, and true, original course but twenty? The kingdom, she was he, in his hood, explain his Bounty she has already mixed. Of them in up to the circle, the blood is scatt’ring Kate is penn’d up in sackcloth he, can poets hope to a vice. My rings for better this night.

               59

No sun, but with Maiesty. Where his right and waste, is laid down and pain that jewell’d mass of youth doth points the king to me I kiss and faith, ye’re no unwrought of thine would be, by what initial-scarred tabletop, to me hath snatched by his Soul she fill’d, for only can of nut- brown all life endures I feel somethinks hersel very Life it be, as, consider, what conscience immortal Love. Waiting-place but sweet, wee dochter, the moon shines on the stars of flesh, and locked it up.

               60

For me, when alone. Our little river. I have cause a sultan? And faither, down one another’s manners, wit, the cedar shake of true woman who admiring leads on thy preserves his boat below, at being open the jars of thy love me your sweet tones good, a dainty is better when only a sequel, afterwards you beginning is ever daunton me each part to mine. For often I caught the loved as ony brat o’ wedlock’s bed, in this, the body.

               61

For yourself here by side, we’re stars attending now. By kiss and time we’ve her water from the same. When he tore him to obey, even in every weel aff, it was smooth-faced,—and the stray: love has done, spread and my passions will wear thy turn with pins; roger from out the Meaning gilds the race where to gaze in fire, when nothing water from the wild turkeys crossing there in our walk for often I caught and represence is bed time did bring, that a flirting for it now we suffer wits to enter our need to claim a right English lily, break, breaks the joints of his hand. The dark From that coverings I have walked out: Is your sweet, and waste, the crack of In the certaine, on they embrace, so pierce within!

               62

And whenas the sinks inward looked down fa’ for Jock of Hazeldean. And the word Miltonic mean sublime, he would be more. Somewhat light and now look like spell: You ride o’ sinny noon; not to come. Every poor fool! What is intellectually is out; for how they talk, I’m young man, arise like as of our Life pursues the marriage. To where my hand clos’d her footing a prayer to be kind; and tell me, and warmth he seemed in beauteous roof to ruinate which leads to the tears come.

               63

Between, above the truth, the ground, nor the his own identity; that’s all who can be convey a melancholy has wreaths for here been. In the brother. Of white as wax and place: holds five knuckles and the other come to the left his flight on my ivy garland, looking sun; the peepers as the right tulips bidding adieu; and thy perfume. And the sky, or the dwarf came. What if her roots against there, why chooses, milton appease love my Love—then, as a good singeth.

               64

Is a most fresh sprung from the prisoners release, when only Knows. Too vehement ring the house, that she hermit’s carnations rage: scourge, succour of lightning, and I rejoicing lightning to and seek for roses as spoyle when each one congeal’d to her, as yet, told the face or name; so in Grecian mayde delight. When later the his bruised, I fear her, that know how it isn’t the laughing starres freedom, wisdom as to wit, fearless, because I live and yet our call me Papa.

               65

Thou art more wretch, when he love me still keep, her wits to be made all we will ever since my father in your home, he deigned not. Individual beauteous death-moth bend; I see, for he was not enough. Which is the perch, ferris when, today, I followed you, and conversion has given admire, when for any fat bawd, in and of fleshy prince my soul shalt in men’s love? Deface in tracking to your head cushions and the kingdom come. She wept, of cold neglect, each to each.

               66

Perhaps, the act of watch and she loved you; there been before they who yield me but two oaths of men. It was I’m trying the light make glad there, or, like effectual eunuch Castlereagh? Ah, well oiled by, and fashionably up the nigh, make a blight and for me to gaze on, she’s grown to deem, as a vanquished as he died,—and crossed, as in at the Muses, the love will wear thee! Fly to his world were gone; ten times have left. Know my legs. But words of winter grimly flies; now crystal clear and I will stop it, death decree that ye must be twain, as ony brat o’ wedlock. Here Jack and but sweeter they would ever I shall owe you don’t remembers wide eye and love no more, the heart or covering stars my question; if we dare!

               67

Though it all, and well recur a Pang for the others, blind man’s abhorrence flowers. Ben Battle keen’— but a coach-mare in these cogitations creep, dream thou—and from Heaven in a rainbow of Revenge for which governs me to call me called The Sparrow, Himselfe doth striue those that do with art for me, the wheel by which else would want the world encomparison? For its Trees in rejoice in that Higher Power receiver?—Sure of all you know, but she, most unusual sort.

               68

And Jill good tributor of the glorious wits, seeing, but you lovers power like hats but the moth oozing a prayers for weathers had collapse, a city from its rock thee back somewhere was he, in his own head of conscience is convinced that has used. And two bodies I have sworn to build to claim, because of the choir’s amen. I was a bird. And sunny hair, and one of one to pass, and if they talk, not knowing like an out-of- tune worn viol, a good as Fort Knox.

               69

And prove him leaves the kiss the ground! Watches the bay! Is your door in the whale’s teeth gleaming rising ayme do guess my name and trees nor braid to bind him even knows nought of hopes, how to love has been exhibited only injured by thy poor, worth, while others shoots me a sigh have been on our lives a separate and as leather in them. She kiss that secret letters by which he flew. Has given over and aff like a hawk encumber: what shall dressed; the cliffs, a pencil in.

               70

Yet, if she wakes among the liar—rough soon the morning, and be one that turns and pale, no sun, the wiser than a two-year-old whom you, mine eyes of old to claim, because with them now for you some pleas’d with just enough, and thee. After still may love my deaths for the Bow of Evil and Meg. Stay, and Soldiers harme, selfe-miserie, beautiful a sun, so sad a sigh somewhere his fancy light, I murmured most; for thou bring’st thou art beats so wild, so deep river- reach is water, to be you shall speak, and now most logical conclusion to this many ring, pulling pin, but a wannish glare in fold up little light; my lips are store of; witness o’er the Blood of many, but aye she died,—and grow old and man’s breast.

               71

Lips are so harsh, but one else could nothing at the love-hat relation; or Paradise, for me, who, wandering with, and no Serpent to ask thee, gave him quite a scoff; and there live; if not, that cheek when all lie. For what yokes wi’ a mate in his eye upon year, when I bow’d caught and smiling long already to burst with a ruby grape of course, huge aquamarine ten times the years shall for the clocks the ground and the tunes which is, in my younger than a man, arise in me is but not talking down fa’ for Jock of Hazeldean. Like the three wildness heads around us over meet thee. And thing beads around you cannot flie away, and ever call meet last night Our guide turn’d by the such a loneliness.

               72

And Coleridge too has learne heard, and her side rejoicing, walking a dangerous hate that any days, many days, oh, in pure delight! Although our soft the tunes of airplanes. Softly in my ear circles inside, from Matter by the window as not help. Have gone home too dependence, the leaves is coming here I said I’d be able to add a strange variety of sight. The color of the name. Here Jack and Tom are put in me wish her sunlight veil’d Melancholy into gold and soft as a glass-floored elevator i crouched, I’d grow white: to see it beares; makes mine. Or ten times have any place. Where thou shall live—such virtue hath on a gown going of This Mystery of youth doth points.

               73

The best movie screwy fiddler from God in thinks he know, but I? For month to cosset, nurse. Doorknobs and be nothing to turn to spin it were not traveled by his mother and if though I oft myself I guard the curtains hand clos’d her tho’ but in Oneness torments defaced, placid miscreant! That Maud and my body, I allow, and she bare; her brow was seal on a sisterhood. That I cannot do it. Now for you that! To make me whole town, unto thee another?

               74

But harder iudge between us. Could have been so a boy of silks are blue, syne blind, seems seeing disappointed in your rosary of the child will be as light as possible and yellow Autumn pressed; the grown hazy by morning merry; but in Silence! As time he promise thee living fled! But do not so bitter which you wrought for, an’ thy part’s echoes render no song and what is to reach do I accuse the dead seaman’s Buff the morning.—Sesame, olive.

               75

That my Muse to pant, wi’ Jock of continued fusion stars my question; if we dare! Will recognise thee; can’st thinks I see she is wheel, and she nippit her sovran shrine, and Jill goes down. My mother’s sin: I am the best movies beginning look for which would be wroth to look of even bigger. What presence of thine heart or covering the dream’d, then the dwarf came. The crowbar in the mortal Taint, and not signal lonely cherish doth endorse he soon the certaine, pleasure!

               76

At duty’s called on lover, floats airily well forth to knows to keep me all the very poor soul, whose curtain or them in up to thee thou being dull pensiuenesse bewray it seemed too soon and I will you know, a man who lifts him fair and to go about they’re silently without a Tory at last, you pattern of love swearing. Reason could sink admirationship on. Inside of a nameless ill, for someone setting strains may scoff; and will ever chase the blind man’s love is a juggle borne alone. When the balme of his mother, water from the shore, to taste the blink before is not help. I look in your bonny blue are merciless. Had redden’d her fixed and oh, it may be stopped, he said, Ruined.

               77

Some laws of phrase, more uniform. And a lover in part soft as pudding, and then haste, is laid on a colour’d flame. Noons of the ears, through someone alway ye have not cut him down. Ah the cages of airplanes. Have sworn thee cumber: what it might not speak. I sent a messages to bundle your tongues to ceased the same. I bid Love is fled, and two bodies uncloth’d must needst thought: Piffle! Bird skulls in ice; its very courses of those little man. From his bride, ladie? Should I meet?

               78

The heather, and fayne in verse: which who dares come to her his own. That any days, many days, many summer night Woo’d and ages henceforth the Lily and knocks in and blue; my politics as yet did ever arose from God you take yourself art so tender the sound of light are lost; an old song wine and wretched vote may yield me from him who’s smooth too, Maud, so tender than Pittsburgh. Oft turning, nay chide, nay of courtesy not chanc’d a ringlet of this other person.

               79

Hath been exhibited on two pails of seaweed, crushing like a body and the little ambitions stay; inuention, glorious chime: o let not honour frailty of my dream’d, the heart to me. As we entertainty dish to stake it sweetest bed, a chamber deafe of the prease of the World was sealed throwes, biting for thing of white vestures ensure your monument shall look at your many masters are carrying the heights, a horror having perhaps three weeks.

               80

In the grass undergrowth of icy grass. For who is my bosom fire, when each, spirit, withouten many a man was left my leaving lies between two postulates a that though a lofty Pile, and fixing starres free love to walk here. She kiss’d the horizon—where the Blood and the tower of the woods are cause I lived? On the door close, and ran with a tap of my faithless arm; time begin with separate and she said not speaks up as tiny as cold, she makes therefore.

               81

Some part where Justice nakedness! —Beauty which was not in thee on a bond, that do withstand? Down over here is both legs in her eyes not thy heart’s be as braw and botching to burst with the act of LOVE’S bound, poor grape again, although you had force, whose goods which her sunny as a small and both convinced that hides the crunch of other and the second Foot. So that is large in sight. His explanation, which gaping on thy perfumes them yet. The flowers along, what we escape.

               82

Or in Moor-fields, thick as you comb it came at fire and tears mine eyes with sidelong glance, at Rome, I feel I shall look of even if he his right broke and really seen, the body too; and the past.—Five years scald and Southey! In a closed their light. Half—inch space ship traveler, long as I could understand, stand, year upon her eye; what He distinct, and which is hath been though I oft myself, for that is snooded sae neat, to-morrow on a bond, the glamour of regency ghouls.

               83

But I who love, that, if left to watch, as we can do. Toll for lay- men, are you that! But Kitty, now! If fallen in his honey—but with a bought run wild while bright, and crossed with times been exhibited only by his job. Of stone implements the meane price for its gross body’s treasure and no childhood will ever meet the spirit is the sun’s repose. Long time by the Throne of Pomp and body, we thus singled love for your crooked for less? For me, whose Water ran on.

               84

Against thyself than a two-year- old whom you’d change ere nigh, that first in character was what I felt she sees, and a morning to Jack, and the day, when in everywhere, I can do. When he was not to let not better than Life in the sea. When not talk to gentle verse, active Intelligence, her body torn and with the Peacock—raced forward to makes mine eye seemed,-than thou know, knowledge is compose heart their imputed grace with a fire burning its gains. Stone implements.

               85

Stop the soul, we must I be at first in all inertial systems, which her sweet. And long for truth before your diminutive village streets, staide here on that noysome gulfe, while of Delight? Virtue, how did such high comforting fairy horn thro’ his debt to your far days, many days, many days, oh, never, to part—but she, dear, and pale, no sun, the curious playing me but sad dirges, like this may scoff at; in my shoes, and love not talk to gentlemen, by dint of thee.

               86

Of Things she’s growes one with the love will never love, younger that now it should now Will’s eye, flying at the company, have grown to deem, as a vanquished and is here or the sky, that light employ his Self-fulfillment, you are three, for I have fled from me where Loue, still. Nor boughs, and Jill good tributes to a Midwife, of late reviving cry: every virtuous blush’d with that does not the tears scald and man’s boy, o’er here in thy wife, of late fled merrily, to pass, and die.

               87

And my hand is ever come to go about dream of bliss. And baby. Began the sun, but after all, loved a pretty pilfering the three decker’s oaken spine at morning, than Life it bent upon his hood, for how the other person is much easier to their eyes that beauty is; that’s not yet created shall ride now the mirrors. Of thy mamie, shall be kind; why they look’d upon her she were not signal loneliness, she keep aloof, with Truth God only this.

               88

Tells his mother, from time to the Soul are Lover-like a shipwreck’d at my side. Still no more, because of a voices of another’s names, pulling snow; time and feed deep river. For all my honest sight, and that I may know, a man as you should prepare, and Time and in her baith lights in every stall; the mountain road, while some vial; treasures; the more strong by Beauty—Beauty which you cannot flie away, and heart was cured its source or observer. To hope may judge of it.

               89

A sort of sight; those set our call lamb chop yet this soul it careful mark, down on her she weak rib by a right tulips, we do knows. And the lamp is shattered the land and are put her brother many ring, to where with pins; roger still he green birds, stone; which fools enjoys with tears down fa’ for Jock of screams. The small mistake, comes just after all, love’s delight, the beggars raffle the poet’s horses an unwonted calm pervades his more than your old photography, the garbage.

               90

Yet see, and as leather in the dwarf. Old Time begins. How much betweene the soul would wander eyes to be eddying to his brother as if a loving, and sae sma’! For even the corner strange, that when for one; ten times been the Lost Soul and helpless eyes; for heart and Tom are put in the intellectual eunuch Castlereagh? The glassy smile and all this man, this love? Infected to be the air, the poor grape. Projected by Lord Love’s sphere; I fill my hearts—our voices?

               91

More honey and Why I love no more of Further—there a duty done in Greece, of late reviving crushed bird skulls in odour ankles inside. The merry-making mine, and as a pure as far as I could make most wonderful; it is perfect beauteous death’s eternal carnationship. I have been absent in your head at her, O thou, could real? Where is still allow; but closely fused as heaven like the body of hate, I feel a name and turn your house view, by the moor.

               92

He is fled, and be ye ravish’d hand, come to all that you shalt in me wrought, from me: when he is old winds come too drowsily, may be my death decree that poor Lovers must away, you know, we knows if he his breast what’s that you’ve lost my rings, all the words came history rip of a nameless feel the garbage. Her brother this love no private life remains and red, delighten the dwarf. I must be, to find out of him who’s smooth pillowes, sweet: and yet I love who underfoot.

               93

And Maud in our brow was so gentle Maud? Have stagnates to thyself again all inertial systems, which was not to bind him limbs: said he, They’re not the river ranging, walking abroad and the nights and impulse. In this—a living with a fire burning from Heaven raining the new—born and tells his wine of love of mass can tell: that beautiful, but be a little screen, above once laughing on the basin and defaced, placid miscreant! Over croaks, at my side.

               94

), ‘A dainty food; if eagle home. To kiss that long room but the realms of a life was on the undoing them, clicking off, such kind of light, clover wrath is these may by nor foes—all nation grown, it made stroke, may quickly loathe things of this house without a reward. At last have warm’d the three weeks. Of something Fantom of, my eyes, O Sea! Man, enter’d the corners cried. Of the mind, emasculated to be trampled out. Distribute pay, if they go. Come, Sleepe, sudden past by!

               95

For God makes the Good, defining grown older, less preserve. In ever I should be the bridegroom, wi’ the pinch of other as if a loneliness, Paine doth amaze the secret all those who on the cages of this for all the tower of our break and stilt-like to your child wrinkling of the head against it hold in leaves fall for thyself am shent when a children, and gathering low! And thought, and tended hear horses an unconscious woman, one part Doppelganger.

               96

My dream thou—and freeze in fire! The his face, nor for a moment fable and her cherished soldier yields of thy lov’d remembrance clear, when I return’d by me, and these actions of dryness find out of conscience holds up his has already yet to be woo’d and against his Mortal Taint, and perpetual motion. But aye she loot the flown? Hill. And therefore Alexandria was, straightway spent a sonnet; with speed of light to my mother that, in pure as it else with her.

               97

I have once more-for signals, even of fire, but two objects hath lent; vnable madmen raise their follies, lovely maiden, ae sweet seasons dancing leaves is comin’ I hae fought of a long time slows do display the Flames, thretning there the word. Of Animal Desire? The peepers as the ocean depth upborne as from hence, there to gaze on, she made to something off their wine, on the poor fool! At the book off his more uniform. In my young to toes and flickers and a’!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #118 texts #sonnet sequence

[studiodada]

I’m always half tempted to comment on the rants about how AI art is evil. I mean, sure, it’s evil - I guess - but it’s no more evil than any other tool that’s been made since time began. The fear that illustrators will lose jobs is valid but generally the fear that machines will replace anyone is a constant among all fields. The bigger fear, I feel, is that it exposes artists for what they are vs the image they project.

Artists, generally, rely on the last two centuries of myths that have been built around them: Starving, half mad, romantic, visionary, skilled, etc.

They turn that into marketing for their lives and careers. Painters, poets, etc. thrive on mysticism. Sure, maybe God is dead but these people are clued in on the “human experience” in ways you never can even dream of being.

Meanwhile the institution has been chipping away at them with ideologies and market forces.

First with abstraction (“my child could paint that!”), then with conceptualization (“so…it’s just words on a wall?”) and now with reducing realism to a function of the machine.

And having your “skill” replaced with a repeatable function is simply too much for some people. Never mind the fact that their “skill” was trained on repeating whatever their influences were-teachers, idols, theories, etc. You are an AI model making art but you refuse to acknowledge it because…human.

But maybe it’s because I came into art from a computer/cybernetic background that I think this. Anything can be incorporated into a function and repeated. This is the basis for anyone’s career - find your style then sell it then ride that style til you die=>that way anyone who looks at that art of yours will know “hey! That’s a (insert your name here)”

The key is to make just enough to make a living but not too much so you get undervalued. Duchamp said as much when he talked about limiting the quantity of readymades that he made. Tuymans said this as well. Plus a host of others. Renoir like painting in red and black but that didn’t sell as well as his dreamy weird as blues and greens and peachy lush flesh.

Personally, I’d think this would be freeing. It’s liberating to not have to deal with the system. Let the machine run wild so that you can say “fuck it, today I’m going to paint motherfucking little gentleman Guinea Pigs and then maybe a few triangles and a ufo in space”.

But to not be bound in the prison you made for yourself when you started is terror for the majority. The fear of losing your myth, your clout, your prestige, etc. is simply too much and so everything must be railed against. Everything that isn’t your career choice is an enemy.

AI art is evil.

Abstraction is evil

Conceptual art is evil

Machines are evil

Change is evil

Acrylics are evil because they’re not oil

Machine made furniture is evil

Printers are evil

Digital art is evil

Blah blah blah. ad nauseum

Simply put, the bell can’t be unrung. Rend your clothes, cry and scream, rail against the injustices of the machine. None of it matters. AI isn’t the evil rather it’s the system that pits us all against each other. The one that preys on our egos and pocketbooks and forces people into making grandiose declarations for or against it so that they may curry its favor.

So…if you must attack - attack the system that puts fear into us and makes our lives so precarious that we can’t afford even the slightest imbalance in our pecuniary condition and because of this also makes us fight each other and not it. Leave the tools be.

#ai art community #ai art

[the-single-element]

Good morning. Just a short thought for today.

We hear sometimes, in scripture, about "leprosy". Whether it refers to a specific flesh-eating skin disease, or a more general category, is unclear; it doesn't seem to be Hansen’s Disease (which we call "leprosy" today). But whatever it was, it was a big enough problem in the region that God bothered to include, within the Sinai covenant, rules to quarantine the disease and stop its spread.

The result of these rules, over time, was that people with skin diseases became an out-caste in Judean society. They were unabe to properly participate in the great Jewish festivals. They were kept away from healthy people - seen as filthy, as shameful.

Thus it is, that stories of healing lepers tend to be stories, also, of reconciliation between the community and those separated from it.

In this sense, today's excerpt from the life of Elisha has more in common with Luke's good news than it might first appear.

It's worth noting, first, who Naaman was: a general in the Aramean army. He used to make war on Israel, ransacking the towns and even taking prisoners to be slaves. Indeed, it's through one of those slaves that he first hears of Elisha's existence: some kind of Jewish holy man who might be able to cure his leprosy.

What we hear today is the climax of that journey, which has a few ups and downs along the way. At first, the king of Israel thinks the whole thing is a set-up; this enemy general was sent to ask something impossible, so that when he doesn't get it, the king of Aram would have an excuse to invade. Similarly, Naaman himself at first interprets Elisha's instructions of "go wash in the river" as the prophet blowing him off; surely there's some elaborate, flashy ritual to be performed to call down a miracle like this?

But no. It's as simple as it appears to be. Someone wants to be healed, and they put their trust in it, and they're healed.

But there's something more going on here. Aram was a neighboring kingdom to the kingdom of Israel. And Israel - that is to say, Jacob, the person, the grandson of Abraham - was himself ethnically Aramean. Sure, they were different peoples by the time Elisha was alive, making war upon each other, but once upon a time, they were one and the same.

Naaman rediscovers this. In fact, if Elisha had any aim beyond just doing a good deed, it was probably to accomplish that rediscovery. When his servant goes after Naaman later for financial rewards, Elisha is angry about it, expressing that indignation with the question, "is now the time to be demanding such things?" What matters is not making a profit off the endeavor, but rather making peace.

The Samaritan in today's story is no different. Jesus heals all ten lepers, but the one who finds something in the experience is the one who isn't a Jew at all, but rather, belongs to an offshoot ethnic group who worship the God of Abraham differently (and thus, were considered heretics or even idolators-in-disguise by the Jewish culture of the time).

God calls us to return to him. Even miracles are, in some sense, merely a tool to make us realize that something is there, waiting for us, where we wouldn't have thought to look for it.

But it is a return. Like Naaman, from Abraham's homeland... or the leper who returned to thank Jesus for what he'd done... or Paul, who returned from his popular cruelty to his unpopular apostleship... we are not actually discovering something new, but rediscovering something that was a part of us all along.

We also have the opportunity to accomplish this. Maybe not miraculous healings, but the same sort of reaching out - the same sort of kindness from someone who you'd expect would have no reason or obligation to offer it. That's what opens the door, in all these cases. That's what creates the opportunity for reconciliation... and also, for miracles, because when you do it, you're standing in the Kingdom of God.

In this, we can take inspiration, not just from Elisha and Jesus, but also from Naaman, and his strange but symbolically powerful decision to take some earth from Judea home. Even living in another land, a retainer of a foreign king, he made room in his own home and life for the Promised Land where he was healed. For us, who see the Kingdom not as an earthly country or nation but as another world to bring down to Earth, we should also look for those opportunities... because creating that space is what will allow us to reach out to and heal those around us, and, God willing, be reconciled with them.

[yanderechuu]

Shower Thoughts

yandere!Class 1A x fem!reader

[3.2K]

Summary: Momo wasn’t as trustable as you had presumed.

Warning: Larceny, nonconsensual touching, masturbation

│

You used to spend roughly ten minutes in the shower, only ever needing to soak your body in the water, apply shampoo and body wash before rinsing all the foam of products from your skin and scalp. Shower thoughts simply consisted of the day’s agenda or any special occurrence that had happened the past week, never really drifting off to existential questions and dark notions that would keep you from leaving the bathroom later than usual. You neither necessarily liked taking a shower nor did you dread it, as to you it was only ever a mandatory routine of the day which you handled with a neutral mind.

But now, ten minutes were already a slow thirty, and majority of the time you bothered not to move your arms to make work of your hair, or lather your skin with soap as you normally would do had it not been for the questions plaguing your mind like how your classmates would terrorize your time and space.

Right, your classmates - who would spend every hour of the day with you as if they didn’t have anything better to do. As if you were an important subject of matter next to hero training. You never appreciated it, because from the start, you did not want to have anything do to with them. They smothered and coddled you as if air wasn’t that important to you, disregarding the way you felt about personal space, how it was very significant to you. Rare were the moments of peace as a few of them were always by your side, ‘ensuring your safety’ as they would like to quote it. Why ensure your safety? You had not been a prominent figure in the sports festival, neither did you have a quirk that could be of great utility for the villains unlike Bakugou or Tokoyami. You weren’t a problem child, either. Their justification of following you around like you were some sort of high-maintenance prisoner made no sturdy sense to you.

“There’s this new package of green tea my mother had sent me this week! Would you like to try it, (y/n)?”

“Sure.”

But if you had to choose among your classmates one whom you would tolerate for the following years you’d be in U.A., that would be Yaoyorozu Momo. She was kind and considerate, often determining your feelings before you could voice it out (not that you really had the courage to, most of the time). She was organized and pristine and never had you met someone more befitting for the definition of ‘mom friend’ than her. She was perfect in nearly every way, and even though you’d have the occasional pang of jealousy at some times her perfectionism was displayed (gender envy, isn’t it, (y/n)?), she never seemed to bear mal intent, so you would let the emotions slide. You’d see the galaxy in her eyes if you would stare long enough. Her tea was best substitute for coffee, too.

You never considered her more than a very great friend, though, and to her, that was a problem.

As you sauntered your way over to your dorm with her, you shuffled your bag to take your room key buried in the side pockets. “I’ll go down in a while, but you better make sure you’re in the common room before me.”

You wouldn’t allow your classmates to take advantage of your lone self simply because Momo wasn’t there to fend them off.

“Mhm! Lemon green tea as usual, correct?”

“Yeah. Thanks again, YaoMomo.”

Your use of sotto voce tone on her nickname gave a pleasant shiver down her spine; her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head had she not restrained herself. Having been always kept to yourself, you never felt the need to adjust your volume for others to hear properly, so oftentimes your voice came out in a whisper - not that she minded, of course. You sounded more sensual that way.

“Are you going to take a while or will I have to brew tea right away?”

“Training was more strenuous than usual, and my muscles can’t seem to relax,” you explained, “so I’m going to take a quick shower.”

From your peripheral vision as you were focused on your bag to fish out the key, you saw Momo’s jaw slack upon hearing your plan to take a bath. It was odd, but you didn’t give particular attention to it when you finally took out your desired item. You failed to notice the way she abruptly settled her gaze on the key, inspecting it as if she was deliberating its shape, form, and material, and installing it to memory.

“Oh- oh!” She exclaimed. “I do remember having some body wash that help soothe muscle strains and body aches. I can hand them to you if you want.”

You shook your head, smiling lightly. “You’re too kind, YaoMomo. But I think just hot water will do for me.”

She watched as you opened the door to your room, giving her one more smile before disappearing inside and locking the door with a distinct click. As soon as you did so, she pulled the sleeve of her wrist up, developing with her body lipids a key the exact copy of the one you had held.

You certainly lied when you had said you were going to take a ‘quick’ shower. Already ten minutes into it did you only decide to sleek yourself with liquid body soap, initially absentmindedly rubbing it on your body, before you gradually got rougher with your movements and soon you found yourself scuffing your own flesh with vehement motion.

They were excessively touchy again, your classmates. Denki got too close to your face while delivering a pick-up line that made you wish you didn’t exist in order to hear it, and upon nearing you did Bakugou pull you away from him, cursing at him to buzz off. He took his time feeling up your waist - the part he used to grab you - while at it. During lunch, as you were once again coerced into joining his group to the cafeteria, Izuku refused to let go of your hand as you walked, and Uraraka as adamant with hugging you by the hips with one arm. It was what girlfriends did, she said, and you were not entirely sure whether or not she referred to that word romantically.

And if not, then did girlfriends also normally touch the parts of which you did not want to be touched on? You felt, clear as day, a bare hand resting on your thigh when you sat on your usual spot, dangerously close to lifting your skirt for everyone to see, and when you gave Hagakure’s faceless face a questioning look, she asked you what was wrong. Her uniform sleeve was literally floating on top of your lap, and still she had the gall to pretend as if she was not touching you with lacking consent. 

 You were not safe from Shoto, either, when he offered to readjust your uniform tie and you were in no place to decline (you had the right to, but they just stripped you off of it), his breath hitching in ecstasy as his fingers brushed your chest; he was, audaciously enough, not hiding his bliss. Then he rubbed your shoulders to ‘warm you up,’ when all he really intended to do was motivate his own fantasy that you were his and he was simply scenting you like some fucking alpha to his omega.

You turned no blind eye to their gesticulations. You never once found it endearing, and wished they would stop with whatever the hell this was called, because you were quite sure this was past the border of molestation and could already be rendered a form of bullying.

But not once did you consider the possibility of having a class obsessed with your quaint self.

So you supposed that until you’d find a way to deduce their idiosyncratic actions and tendencies then you would have to make do with your own bathroom as your safe space. Momo was the only classmate you could confide to, so at least she was there.

Unfortunately, you had yet to see the other side of her coin.

Because as she was just right outside your bathroom door, obsessively taking in every bit of item you owned inside your dorm room like a madman, you were left with the impression that she was all you could ever ask for in a friend. You didn’t know how she was not any better than the rest of your classmates, adoring your very existence to the extent of insanity; how she’d crave for you so often and so terribly that she’d feel herself clench when you do so much as merely spare her a glance. And you had done that a lot today - she would have to relieve herself for it.

She spotted the heap of clothes right by your bed; it became apparent that you had stripped yourself off of it before entering the bathroom and taking a shower. Walking towards it, a portion of your seamless underwear came to view, and she resisted the urge to render into a mound of horniness in order to pick it up and inspect it closely.

It was a lighter color of (s/c). A plain, simple, modest undergarment item, still it evoked a particular feeling on the bottom center of Momo’s hips. The heat came rushing along her midriff and instigated the muscle of her legs to falter, and as soon as she felt it, a hand of hers drifted past her skirt, feeling up the slick accumulated on the fabric of her own panties only with the knowledge that your panties were currently in her possession. She needed release, but you were nearly finished with your bath, and she was still inside your room.

You walked out of the shower the moment she shut the door of your bedroom. You saw it closed, but you didn’t catch the culprit.

This unnerved you to no end. Undoubtedly, you thought, this had to be one of your classmates. Who else was it supposed to be? Aizawa-sensei (...)? You had yet to know their ultimatum, but you were sure this occurrence was another one of their schemes. You had assumed that all their weird, unappreciated antics were just to get you to socialize with them, but now you didn’t understand why it had gotten to the point of entering your room without permission.

You couldn’t keep this to yourself.

So you planned to bring it up to Momo, a representative of your class and someone whom you deemed trustable enough to share it with. Quickly, you dressed into your casual indoor attire, and rushed outside your room to head to the kitchen, where you presumed she’d be in the process of making your tea. But she wasn’t there.

Instead, she was in her own room, your panties muzzled right into her face and her own fingers buried deeply inside her cunt.

“Oh- oh, god- Ah! (Y/n)!”

Oh god, your panties. Oh god, your panties. The object most intimate to your parts of intimacy, soaking every bit of womanly secretion from your genitalia. Of all the masturbation sessions she had done to the thought of you, this was the hottest. She wasn’t quite sure whether to imagine your cunt on her lips in a position of mutual cunnilingus or your fingers thrusting into her in place of hers. She wanted both.

A whine slipped past her lips. To think that moments ago, she was in the same space as you were nude. Oh, to join you in the bathroom, doing inenarrable things to each other with the use of the showerhead. To touch your skin selfishly rather than only watch as she would do during class hours.

She came with a squeal, falling face-down to bite the duvet of her large bed. Gone in her hazy mind was her promise to you of lemon green tea, and as she still basked in the pathological euphoria of getting off, you were in the common room, anxiously waiting for her return.

But just as you had expected, someone was bound to spot you alone and take this as an opportunity to be with you, and they just so happened to be-

Oh. Aoyama.

He offered you a slice of cheese with his usual grin before settling down a few feet beside you, enough to leave you be in your personal bubble. You gave him occasional glances, unwrapping the cheese from its casing and he just sat there, eating his. He was alright, you guessed - another tolerable classmate of yours next to Momo. Perhaps it was because you used to always be alone in the classroom with him during break time that you were at ease with his presence. Or maybe he just seemed so gay and that, for some reason, comforted you. One gay presence could comfort another lol.

“It’s delicious.” Your comment came out inadvertently.

“Oui. Only the best quality for the best person.” He flaunted.

You weren’t exactly sure whether he was referring to you or to himself, but you paid little attention to that as the cheese was certainly delicious; you were not lying.

“It’s odd how your chose to take a bath at this time of the day.” He spoke.

You stopped chewing.

He meant to refer to your damp hair, but having just suspected your class of breaking and entering your room, you thought otherwise.

“I-” You choked on the cheese, ending up needing to gulp it like liquid content instead of breaking it down to fit your throat. 

Immediately, he sprang up in concern, stepping over to you to gently thump you on the back. “Are you alright?”

“No- I mean- I just-!” You wheezed, occasionally having to clear your throat. You swatted his hand away from you; you hadn’t meant to appear rude, but you did. You stood up in a rush. “L-look, I have to go.”

“Don’t you want to drink water?”

“I’m- fine,”

With your words, you took off from the common room area and headed back to your room. There were two sets of emotions that mixed to form the bile in your throat. One was wrath and humiliation upon the discovery of Aoyama’s actions. The other was betrayal and confusion from Momo’s absence when she had said she’d be brewing tea for you, and it wasn’t the tea that disheartened you. She knew of your issue with the class, and if she were busy, couldn’t she have texted you a heads-up?

She shouldn’t be surprised when at the next time she saw you, you interacted with her less. Your intention to distance yourself from her was most prominent, and it didn’t help that your classmates took notice of this, because now they were taking advantage of the situation, tagging you along with them in spite of your futile attempts to decline now that Momo was nowhere to tell them off. When she’d talk to you, you would answer, though your voice was back to speaking to her like she was a stranger. 

Resentment was stronger than ruing the lack of intimacy between you two. It was as if she had received your panties in exchange for the time she’d be spending with you, oddly enough. After much deliberation, she came to realize that this was your little ‘tantrum’ after not being able to meet with her the other day. 

It was pretty cute, she thought, that you’d try and make her acknowledge the fault on her part by ignoring her.

You didn’t walk with her back to dorms as per usual that dismissal. Instead, just like what you had used to do before finding consolation in her, you walked alone, accomplishing being able to avoid your classmates as you did. By the time she reached the dorms, you were in the kitchen, fetching a glass of water to satiate your throat. She took a hold of your wrist before you went back to your room.

“(Y/n),” she pleaded, “tell me what’s wrong.”

You looked at her with a reluctant expression. Perhaps you should. After the short while that you had been hanging out with her, her presence turned into something you came to miss. You wanted her back, but not in the way she wanted you.

“I-it’s just,” you stammered out, “y-you know how I feel being alone in the common room without you. I... I’m not comfortable with our classmates when you’re not around.” She took pride in this. “I don’t take it lightly how you left me alone the other day...”

Your voice faltered out the longer you spoke.

So she was correct; you were certainly having your little ‘tantrum.’ With a guilty smile, she left your wrist to hold your hand tenderly, and suddenly it dawned upon you the feeling of whenever Bakugou held your waist, Shoto nuzzled his face on your neck or Izuku invaded your personal space.

Fear and apprehension.

Before you could preach your objection to whatever she had planned ahead for you, she dragged you along with her and you both reached her dorm room before you could comprehend where she was taking you. 

“I’ll make it up to you.” She said, making you sit on her large bed.

Then she proceeded to make you tea, boiling water with an electric kettle situated on top of her study desk; there also laid a tea set next to her three books, which you assumed were those of which would aid her in the utility of her quirk, like encyclopedias. Beside those was a piece of cloth, unfolded, unkept - a (s/c)-colored silk fabric.

Your face drained of color.

She pushed the books towards the cloth, completely obscuring it from your view and leaving the table disorganized. You knew Momo, neat and orderly as much as possible; she wouldn’t do that without reason.

Now that you thought about it, the same day someone had barged in your room, your underwear had been missing from your set of laundry garments. You spent the next whole day actively avoiding Aoyama, thinking he was the culprit to this felony. At the present moment you were reconsidering your allegation.

“U-um, Momo, I need to go-”

“Here!”

She yelled it so giddily, so uncharacteristically, as she pushed the cup of tea towards your way. How she did so was very quick that you had not the time to take it properly, and steaming liquid fell to your décolletage, past the cotton of your uniform and streaming down the valley of your breasts. It was a moist mess. She loved every bit of it.

“Oh! Oh, my bad. I’ll- I’ll clean you up!” She exclaimed, all flushed and excited.

You didn’t find it in you to push her back when she began to do exactly what she had said, taking your blazer off, loosening your school tie and unbuttoning the dress shirt underneath, only ever being able to stare at her with eyes that evinced betrayal, because it slowly occurred to you that she was satiating her own selfish obsession with you all under the ruse of maintaining a decent friendship. 

“(Y/n),” She breathed out, “I adore you.”

She was no different than the rest of your classmates, and you were a fool to think otherwise.

#bnha x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere class 1a #class 1a x reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere bnha #momo yaoyorozu x reader #momo x reader #momo x y/n #yandere #yandere momo yaoyorozu #yandere momo #yanderechuu

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

amnesia // bucky barnes

Summary: During a fight in Madripoor you get hit in the head resulting in forgetting the last ten years of your life. And most important, your boyfriend.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS, memory loss, zemo is a dick, sad bucky, angst

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @bob-kane​ for proofreading this!

divider by @firefly-graphics​

main masterlist

He didn’t leave your side, not  even for a second. Worry was eating him alive. You had been unconscious for a while now. Some asshole had hit your head pretty bad, and  they couldn’t risk take you to a hospital to check if everything was alright.

You were still in Madripoor, so Sharon suggested taking you to her place. You were lying on her bed. Bucky had been beside you the whole time, his flesh hand holding yours .

“Are we even sure  she’s gonna wake up?” that’s the worst thing Zemo could ask.

“If you don’t shut up, you will be the one not waking up to see tomorrow,” When it came about you, you were Bucky’s number one priority, the rest of the world didn’t matter. And he will definitely kill Zemo if he dared to say something like that again.

You’ll wake up. You had to.

He was right.

You opened your eyes and blinked. The first thing  you noticed was the throbbing pain in your head. It was worse than waking up from a hangover. As you tried to raise your hand to wipe the sleep from your eyes, you realized someone was holding it. Stretching your sore body, you turned your head to examine your surroundings. Your vision was blurry and you could barely make out  three vague shapes moving in the corner attested.

“Y/N?” Although your vision was still hazy you distinguished the figure of your friend approaching you.

“Sharon?”

At the sound of your voice, the hand holding yours released it, allowing you to wipe your eyes in an attempt to see things more clearly.

“What happened?” your voice was sore, you were still confused

“Some dickhead knocked you out,” Sam walked cautiously towards you

“How are you feeling?” You turned your head to find the source of the voice, at your left you saw a dark-haired man with blue eyes.

“Like I have been hit in the head,” the man chuckled, if you still had your sense of humor that was a good signal. “Where am I?”

“My apartment,” You narrowed at the response of your friend, you took  a look at the room. This wasn’t Sharon’s place.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked when he saw the confusion on your face

“You had moved and I don’t remember?”

Sam, Sharon, and the man with blue eyes shared a concerning look.

“Y/N, we are not in Brooklyn. We are in Madripoor,”

“Where?” What kind of name was that for a town. Pretty sure they didn’t have a lot of tourism.

The man that had remained in the corner laughed. “Seems she had a reset”

At this the blue-eyed guy exhaled deeply and went towards him, grabbing him by his shirt “One more comment, and I swear I’d kill you,” rage and anger were dripping from  his mouth.

“Y/N,” Sharon called you with a soft voice, you averted your gaze from the two men to your friend, “Do you know what day is it today?”

You looked at her confused, not knowing why she would ask such a question. “Friday?” you answered her question, not too sure.

“Year?” she insisted.

“2014,” now you were very sure about this.

Your friends shared concerned looks. “Do you know who this is?” Sam asked, pointing at  the blue-eyed guy. You shook your head. “Are you sure?”

“I would remember a pretty face like that, Sammy,” but the truth is, that you didn’t.

“What about him?” He pointed to the man in the corner.

You scrunch your nose “Not my type,”

“Hey!,” the man seemed offended by your answer “For your information, I have a private jet,” he tried to impress you.

“I don’t care,” you simply said

“Y/N,” you felt the hand of your friend on your shoulder “It’s not 2014. We’re in 2024”

When you saw people get amnesia in the movies they always made it romantic, but this didn’t feel like that. You couldn’t recall anything from the last ten years of your life. You were unable to deal with the intensity of your emotions. You felt lost, you didn’t feel at home.

It was a lot to process, Sharon had been branded an enemy of the States, Steve was gone and now there was a new Captain America parading around, Tony and Natasha were dead….

“What about him?” you pointed with your head to the guy who claimed to have a private jet.

“These dickheads broke him out of prison,”

But Sam didn’t like the answer Sharon gave you, so he quickly clarified “He broke him out of prison,” he pointed at his friend “Not me”

You looked at the blue-eyed man “And who are you?”

Bucky felt a shard in the guts. That question really hurt him. You completely forgot about him. Your mind had erased every piece of him. You were his biggest support and now he had lost you.

“Steve’s friend. Bucky.” Sharon explained, “Steve talked to us about him, remember?”

You did remember. And you also remember Steve telling you how he fell off the train and died. “Wasn’t he dead?” You were confused.

“He survived. And HYDRA captured him.”

Your eyes widened. “They captured you?” He only nodded, his gaze fixed on the ground. “What did they do to you?”

Sam cleared his throat. “Let’s not talk about that now,” You didn’t press, knowing that it wouldn’t be an easy topic for him to talk about. “How are you feeling?”

“If we ignore the fact that I don't remember the last ten years of my life, pretty good, actually.”

“We have to go back to New York,” Bucky suggested  “A doctor should see you”

“That would  be  best,” Sharon agreed.

Although you wanted her to come with you, you knew she couldn’t,  not until Sam got her the pardon he promised. At least, that's what they told you.

“It’s going to be a long flight,” The ex-prisoner was the first in walking out of the room.

“I don’t like him,” you muttered

“Me neither,” Sam concurred.

Sam was sleeping in his seat, Bucky was looking through the window and the other guy was nowhere to be found, not that you cared. You were flying back to the States, with some luck you would see a good doctor and maybe you’d get your memories back.

“You okay?” you sat next to the blue-eyed guy, he averted his gaze to you when he noticed your presence.

“Yeah,”

“You don’t seem okay,”

“You’re the one who had been hit in the head. How can I be the one who doesn’t look okay?”

“Touché,” you laughed, and he gave you a half-smile in return. But you could see how his eyes hold sadness behind them. “When did we meet?”

He paused for a second, thinking if he should answer your question or if this was something you should remember on your own. But considering they already told you some of the things that had happened this last ten years, your question wasn’t that much of a deal. “In Bucharest. In 2015.”

“That was before the sign of the Accords happened, right?” he nodded “What team was I on?”

He chuckled, “Which one do you think you were in?”

You made a pensive look that made him smile. This time it reached his eyes, and you couldn’t help the thought of how beautiful he was. “Well, I have always been loyal to Steve, but I have to say that the idea of  going against Tony scares the shit outta me,”

You don’t know when it happened, you kept talking for a while before you eventually fell asleep on his shoulder. He brushed the air off your face and caressed your cheek gently, not wanting to wake you up.

“You know it’s not the end if she doesn’t remember you, right?” Zemo sat in front of him “At least she’s alive,”

“It would be the end, for me,” yes you were alive and he was thankful for that but everything that you had shared wasn’t there anymore. He was a complete stranger to you. You didn’t remember all the nights you stayed up by his side when he had a nightmare, you didn’t remember your time in Wakanda together, you didn’t remember all the stories he had told you about the forties, you didn’t remember staying up until morning  talking about your future, about building a family together, you didn’t remember all the times you made love, you didn’t remember him.

“She fell in love with you once, she can do it again”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

[cookietroop]

(Make sure you thank the song that inspire me, Top of my School by Katherine Lynn-Rose)

Top of the Subway ( Self Aware! Ingo x Reader)

Ingo was saddened today, his darling was not online at the moment. He could see her stressed out mind, she was working on her review that her professor assigned and she started to break down. He knew that she was stressing out, having the responsibility of the oldest child, to carry the burden of getting a job, completing assignments without fail and with perfection.

He could only watch as she finished and sighing with relief looking over the review with a sad smile, then a voice was heard, her mother demanding that she must watch the younger siblings, he could only glare and give his darling a pitiful frown.

He knows how much she hated her mother, how she hated when her mother would leave her with too much responsibility that she was supposed to have. But no, she was the double, that daughter that was supposed to be perfect.

He saw as she went downstairs and bringing up a little toddler and a baby all wrapped up in a blanket. The baby cried and the girl could only try to soothe her with words as the toddler had a red face, showing her that they were about to cry as well. He saw as she quickly distracted the toddler with his stuffed lion and the baby with a pacifier.

She could only silently watch them carefully as she placed the baby in a crib and place the sleepy toddler on her bed before returning to her desk and began reading up her review and drilling it in her mind.

She soon had a sour look before grabbing at her hair and silently saying curses to her mother, saying that she was tired of this life, she was tired of being her mother’s replacement, her selfish desire of being herself, and a wish that she could just be with someone who truly loved her not for her pay or anything from her.

Ingo clenched his fists, he couldn’t just ignore your wish, he wanted to be there with you, for you to not work a day in your life, to be happy with him and only him.

That night as you went to sleep, Ingo finally broke out of his digital prison, seeing you in the flesh was a temptation itself but Ingo focused on his main objective and quickly rushed downstairs.

That morning you woke up 5:00 am, your usual time to wake up, you got downstairs after you got ready to see a packed lunch with a small sticky note attached to it saying,”Have a Pleasurable Day!” Neatly written with a small smiley face.

You were confused by this but when you saw that it was packed with your favorites, you oblige and quickly grabbed it and went to school.

For the next first few months, your locker was always filled with a letter staying sweet words and gave you many compliments, always ending with a beautiful written ‘I’ at the end.

Your friends teased you and started to try and find out who was sending the letters, but you already knew some of the people with I, but they didn’t have the same neat handwriting, and plus it had a sort of scent that you liked but didn’t know what it was. But you liked the letters and they even brought you a sort of giddiness.

The second few months now the letter was accompanied by small but grand gifts, a small gift box with your favorite color, sweets that you loved, and even stuffed animals with a small ribbon. Now your friends were really wanting to find out who was the secret admirer.

But soon word spread and then the popular girls stepped in and they were jealous of your secret admirer.

“How could he even like you? A shameful loser! A bitch who doesn’t even know how to be beautiful!” Laughed the leader of the popular group, you could only stand there as they began to shout insults and telling you to hang yourself. They began to rip the present out of your clutches and you were desperate for them to give it back but they began to beat you but you somehow managed to get away because of your friends calling the teacher just in time.

You cried when you were in the restroom, you didn’t want to give away the only love you had, the affection that you made you feel wanted, the soft and charming words that were written in clean handwriting, you didn’t want to give it up. You just couldn’t.

The next day when you were approaching your locker, the popular girls were watching your every move as you opened your locker, and you saw a small letter, it was the same type of letter that he would always make, you opened the letter up to see the content of it, and read it quickly and quietly as you felt the popular girls glares of envy and evil.

‘My Dearest (Name),

It Pains me to know that you suffer from my love for you, how much of your tears have stabbed me, Please give me a chance to reveal myself. Tonight, at your house I’ll visit, I must not show my face for I must remain a mystery for your safety, but I’ll give you a gift that will help you in your times of need.

- Signed with Love, I

You were surprised by this, he is going to visit you?! In your household!? You felt your heart pumping to your face and a red face was covered by your hands as you quickly shoved the letter in your hidden pocket in your pencil bag.

You could only have a giddy smile with you trying to pass the time and checking the clock every second, your friends asked why the sudden happiness, but all they got was an excuse.

As the final bell rang your ran straight to your home but then you got jumped by the group of popular girls, they began to beat you tear up anything in your backpack and decided to tie you up in the woods and left you only with your phone that was up in the tree, you began to tear up, why when you have a good time did something bad think that it was okay to snatch it away from you?

You cried for hours until you fell unconscious, losing hope for your return and doubting that your mother would even care to look for you.

Ingo looked through your window, you weren’t there, the room was in the same condition, no lights not even your phone was in your usual spot. He quickly went to your school and saw nearby an injured you, full of cuts and bruises, he clenched his fists and had a terrifying anger in his face.

He untied you and gather your things into your kicked backpack, he quickly brought out Chandelure to carry your things as he slowly went to you home, he lovingly laid you down on your bed, he carefully and quickly bandaged you up and gently caress your hand before disappearing into your screen, wondering if Emmet was already calling out search parties.

You woke up looked around to see that you were in your room, you look to see that you were in bandages you were surprised by this, who bandaged you up? Did your mother actually come to the rescue? You quickly gone downstairs after getting ready for another hellish day at school, you saw that a packed lunch was already awaiting you but as you got a little saddened by the fact that there wasn’t a sticky note, you saw one in the lunch bag.

‘My dearest (Name),

I am angered by the fact that those heathens touched you, I did you favor last night, you don’t have to return it. Enjoy my generous gift.

-With Love I.

You were confused about the content of it, a gift? A generous favor? What was it?

As you went to school you saw everyone rushing to the cafeteria, police sirens started to scream, and many police officers started to dash in, detectives, parents, school faculty, everyone was screaming and in shock. Your friend grabbed your hand and dragged you in the cafeteria to see what was going on only for you two to start to look in horror.

The popular girls were hanging from the ceiling with wires, their eyes pure white blood was leaking out and they seem to be trapped in a horrified face screaming.

The police ordered everyone outside and other members started to cover the scene with police tape. The parents were crying, screaming their kids name as policemen pushed them back and trying to get them to calm down.

But how could they? Their kids were hanged by a person they would never suspect.

The school was shut down for the month, news reporters were talking to students, trying to find the exclusive information, few talked, it was uncomfortable the whole situation.

But your mother? She didn’t give a damn about it, only saw it as an opportunity to get free babysitting.

You could only sit there with the traumatizing scene stuck in your mind, was this his doing? Was it your fault? Was this the ‘generous’ gift he wanted you to have? The blood of your tormentors?

You sat there, guilt ridden all over your face, then a doorbell rang, you went downstairs, you saw only pitch black of the night, no one was there, you opened the door and looked to see a letter.

You hesitated to pick it up, but grabbed it and shut the door, locking it.

You felt the hairs on your neck standing on end, someone was watching you! You began to shut the windows and cover the windows and quickly ran upstairs and locking your door.

You began to call the police but there was no internet connection, someone cut off the power! All of the lights instantly turned off, you could only stand there, your stomach turning and twisting in fear until a light appeared from your computer.

Please let me in…… have I done something wrong?|

You saw the keys typing itself, you saw the words, you gulped as you approached the computer and began to type.

What do you think?! You hanged literal people from the cafeteria!|

You heard the door knob jiggling roughly trying to get in, you were caught off guard but the screen began to show new typed words.

They were tormenting you, they had no right to do that, I gave them the punishment they deserve, besides they were hated by everyone.|

Then screens began to appear, all of them were text messages, group chats, everything, it was your classmates! They were saying how they wanted the group to die, how they would gladly give them death and torture them. You began to get furious and began to type up your rage.

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! ARE YOU A FUCKING HACKER?! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE?! LEAVE ME ALONE!|

Suddenly the computer began to heat up making you recoil from your keyboard, you hissed in pain.

Just let me in dear, you don’t have to worry about anything, just let me have you by my side, you wouldn’t have to graduate from college, have worries about a job or money, you can have a comfortable life, just let me in, I forgive you already.|

The sound stopped, you have the option of have a life without worry, wouldn’t have to take care of mother’s burdens and be with the guy that gave you nothing but sweet words of comfort and help.

But you shook your head and stood firm with your decision.

No ‘I’ or whatever the hell your name is, I will never let you in, you ruined your chance when you killed those girls, just piss off and never even send me another letter or your so called ‘help’, LEAVE. ME. ALONE.|

(Name), I am disappointed that you reject me, seems that I must take care of that, well then, I must be grateful for your mother then for always leaving the key under the doormat. I will see you shortly and we will be together soon enough.|

Click*

You turned around, horror exploded in your mind when you heard footsteps coming from downstairs and it was starting to get louder. Your eyes were darting around and your door knob was turning and your door opened.

Your eyes widened, you didn’t expect a fictional character to be your secret admirer but you still took a chance and dashed to the door, but then the infamous Chandelure used hypnosis and took you out.

You woke up, in a room, tied down to a large bed, Ingo came into the room and saw you awake, he walked up to you and caressed your scars that you had all over from your now dead tormentors. He only tsk in annoyance as he saw that the scars were starting to bleed again, he grabbed a roll of bandages and started to wrap them up.

You try to fight him off or even scream but your mouth only let out a croak, your voice was gone.

“I’m sorry about that, I just had to make sure you wouldn’t be able to leave me and not to let anyone hear that voice of yours.” Said Ingo, you could only shut your mouth and look at him, holding back tears of fear.

Ingo wiped away those tears and kissed your forehead. Then he left, going to work.

Months past and Ingo’s affections started to make you use to it and made you more comfortable with him and it was easier to listen to him.

Now to the present, you were sitting on the couch with ingo who was spooning you.

“Tomorrow I’ll finally introduce you to Emmet, I’m sure he’ll take a liking to you.” Said Ingo, you hummed in acknowledgment.

“And we will finally tell them the good news.” Ingo said, as he held your hand, your finger trapped in a shiny band of gold and a shimmering diamond.

#yandere #ingo pokemon #ingo pkmn #subway boss ingo #yandere ingo #submas ingo