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#men who smell like candy & Fucking Illness
vellichorom · 11 months
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uh oh. I can't imagine mixing a virus with a wayward executable can lead to anything good..... what do you mean it just gave him the flu,
FINALLY, at LONG LONG LAST; Thierry's OFFICIAL Lovebug AU rendition! in which the man quite literally gets bugged. with love! & with sick nasty
truly a lesson to all to watch what you download from your emails!
( the lovebug AU concept belongs to @things1do ~ )
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harveyb-wabbit92 · 3 years
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Shark Week: The Tallest x F!Reader
The following is a non-profit fan-based story, Invader ZiM  is owned by Jhonen Vasquez and Nickelodeon please support the official release, I gain no profit nor do I own anything other than OCs and whatever spouts from my imagination!
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Summary: Red and Purple get an impromptu human reproduction lesson when they go and check on Y/n who's been hiding from them all day.
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"I'm telling you somethings wrong! Yesterday Y/n looked off."  Red stressed to Purple who was completely unbothered as he chowed on some cheezy-puffs. "Maybe she's just tired, she was probably up all night watching TV again." Purple stated this wouldn't be the first time Y/n has looked haggard after a night of movies and video games! but then again, They were still getting used to this whole courting a human thing so...
Red frowned and went to say something else, when he got a weird look on his face, he looked like he was concentrating on something, he sniffed the air his antenna wiggled around inquisitively then suddenly stood right up. "Hold on! Do you-... do you smell that?" the red eyed Irken said to his co-tallest who stopped gorging himself on snacks, and whiffed air doing the same antenna wiggles aside from the sugary treats, burnt wires, machine grease and other Irkens nothing was out of the ordinary... he blinked his face shifted to one of confusion catching the scent of something foreign but familiar, his antennas suddenly sprung up.
"Yeah... It smells like the time Y/n got a paper cut...but more bad." The tallest looked at each other worried, they dropped their snacks and rushed towards Your room, though Purple doubled back to picked up a bag of donuts and went after Red, when they arrived in the hallway just outside your room. 
The stench of blood was stronger now, they found a small group of your guards standing outside all of them looking very concerned, one of the taller guards an Irken named Deeko noticed the tallest hasty approach. "My Tallest, I was just about to call." he said with a salute.
The leaders waved him off "What's going on?/Where's Y/n?!" Red and Purple demanded over each other as the guards looked nervous. "We're not sure, liaison Y/n won't let anyone in,  when we ask what's wrong? she just tells us to leave!" Deeko explained and noted she locked everyone out of her room, Red dismissed the guards, he and Purple could handle it... at least they thought they could, Red knocked on the door.
 "Y/n are you okay?" Red asked he heard you cuss and your footsteps moving around your room. "I'm fine! I'm just... I'm getting dressed!" You said hastily while mentally kicking yourself for being so obvious that you were hiding something... 
(Usually you had time to prepare for shark week, You had supplies! but ever since moving to the Massive, the stress from leaving Earth to living in space has cause your cycle to be maladjusted, this was the first period you've had in three months.) For now you just kept your fingers crossed and hoped Red and Purple bought that excuse.
They didn't, the tallest looked at each other Red nodded Purple hacked your door, it opened and your boyfriends walked in. "Oh for fuck sak-" you were cut off by Purple and Red getting a hold of you they started smelling you; they were perplexed you didn't look hurt... but the stench of blood was everywhere, you tried to talk them into leaving. "Look guys I know your worried but..." Red suddenly pulled away and was hyper focused on your bed, Your bare bed.
 "Where are your sheets?" he asked looking around the room with Purple "Uhh..." you tried to come up with something, too late! Purple found your linens, and ruined pair of underwear balled up behind a chair, You tried to stop him, but the purple eyed Irken had already picked up your sheet saw the bloodstains and... Chaos ensued.
Cut to you stuck on the medical deck. Cranky, cramping and miserable; while being poked prodded at by tiny green men or at least they tried to, you gave them an empty threat tossing them out the airlock and had ordered your S.I.R. unit: Ede, to maim anyone who came near you, needless to say the Irken medics backed off, while Red and Purple frantically called Zim for help thinking you were dying, but the banished invader wouldn't answer his damn communicator! Red slammed his fist on the console in exasperation. 
"Zim you better answer this call or so help me!" there was static before Zim finally picked up. "Oh my Tallest! to what do I owe-" Purple cut him off jumping in front of the screen "SKIP THE PLEASANTRIES SHORTY! OUR HUMAN IS DYING!!! *Munch* HAU DOE EE FRIX HWIT??" the Purple clad leader demanded while stuffing doughnuts in his mouth as Zim looked at them startled. "....What?" Red growled and shoved Purple out of the way. "Y/n she has some kind of illness, it's making her bleed... *ahem* down there." Red stated Zim looked at them both for a moment before something clicked.
"Oh! You mean Menses?"
"You know what it is? How do you cure it?!"
"Edging closer to the sweet brink of death..." Zim said coldly leering at them Red and Purple gawked him fearfully, Zim kept the dark act up few seconds then burst out laughing at them. "Hehe...I kid, I kid! O-ho Zim's love-mate pulled the same thing when he asked...hehe" Red glowered at him. "Computer hone in on Zim's base signal and initiate It's Self-Destruction sequence on my mark.." The earthbound Irken sputtered and panicked with Skoodge and Gir running around screaming as Red started the count down. 
"Wait, ZiM will tell you everything he knows! just don't blow up my house!"
"Computer cancel Base Self-Destruct... Start talking Zim."
"When human females reach a certain age they-..." 
You were still in the medbay headphones on ignoring your aches and pains by playing your Game-slave DXI, while Ede and Deek were sitting near by playing cards and making sure none of the medical staff bothered you, when the door opened and two very flustered Tallest floated in; they noticed Deeko sitting little too close to you and gave him a heated look that could melt permafrost. 
The green eyed guard swallowed nervously and silently left the room with along with Ede which you hadn't noticed. Until you saw the door close in your peripherals, you were about to ask where they were going? and if they could get you some snacks? when a blanket along with a bag of various candies and donuts was dropped on to your lap causing you to jump a bit surprised.
You looked up and saw your boyfriends watching you intently, cocking a brow you pulled your headphones down to see what they wanted? "What this for-" Red and Purple suddenly hugged you confusing you further. "Uh guys? what up with you?" Red was first one to speak up, his face had light blush to it. "We called Zim, he told about this Menses cycle your having." Purple reached into the bag on your lap and took out a candy-bar and offering it to you. "He said chocolate helps." Needles to say you were touched these guys really care about you if they were willing to go so far as to recruit Zim's help to figure out what was wrong with you.
"It does, what else did he tell you." You asked keeping your guard up because well... it's Zim. "He said he'll send over some medicine and said to use heat if you get bad cramps..." Red gestured the blanket which you realized was a large heating pad, when you noticed the dial, "That's pretty sweet of him, remind me tell him thanks next time he calls." Both Red and Purple were still clinging to you which roused your suspicions. "Did he say anything else?" The tallest looked around to make sure everyone was busy working and looked back at you with identical smirks.
You saw Red used one of his PAK legs to interface with room control port, the windows tinted, the lights dimmed and the door locked before Purple whispered something in your ear, Your face felt like and probably looked like a stove iron, you felt Red's smirk widen as he nibbled on your neck while Purple's hands slowly move down to your hips; Zim had told them about the alternative and very fun way of helping you out with your cramps, needles to say the Medical staff avoided that part of the medbay for a while...
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Survey #461
“this city looks so pretty, do you wanna burn it with me?”
Have you ever wanted a Nikon camera? Or do you have one already? My camera before the one I have now was a Nikon D3200. I use a Canon now. Who was the last person (if anyone) you said Happy Birthday to? A friend. Do you have Photoshop? If so, how often a day do you use it? I have it, but I barely use it nowadays. I use it to edit photos for character profiles or profile pictures, add a watermark for my actual photography, and I used to make Mark-oriented gifs like crazy. They mostly did really well, so... I might wanna get back into that and get That Sweet Validation. Do you watch any shows that you know your parents wouldn’t approve of? No. Have any of your exes gotten married or had kids since your breakup? None, I think. Do either of your parents have a mental illness? My mom has depression. Can you tolerate children for a long period of time? NO. Have you ever lived with someone you felt thoroughly uncomfortable around? No. Are you into dubstep? Yeah, I tend to enjoy it. Zelda or The Sims games? Can I pick neither? lol I don't feel very much at all for The Sims, and Zelda games have always looked... boring to me? Like I've watched most of the Game Grumps' playthroughs of all the games, and they make it hilarious of course, but the games themselves? Nah. Are you terrible at assigning bands their proper genre? YES YES YES YES YES YES. Even in my preferred category, that being metal, FUCK if I know the sub-genre. Have you ever made out in a closet? No, that shit sounds claustrophobic as hell. Have you ever been to a laser tag place? Yeah, on a triple-date once! It was SO fun. How do you wanna celebrate your next birthday? Have a couple friends over, pig out at The Cheesecake Factory. o3o Do you tease your parents about them being old? No, especially not Mom. She's self-conscious about getting older. Are you in love with someone? "In love" is a bit too far, buddy. But I love someone. Have you ever ridden a unicycle? No. Have you ever wanted a pet bunny? I was VERY serious about getting a lop-eared bunny for quite a while, but we just couldn't afford to adopt one (even off Craigslist) and get a cage for it, toys, etc. Are the bottom of your feet clean? I HATE seeing the bottom of my feet. Not because they're dirty, but because it's Callus City. I ain't even fuckin jokin'. Do you like really salty food? Yeah. :x When’s the last time you bled a lot? Well, I just recently finished my cycle after not menstruating for three or four MONTHS, so you can figure that one out. Have you ever watched a needle go into your own skin? Yeah. I like to know exactly when it's coming. Have you ever seen someone get a piercing/tattoo? Yes to both. When you’re done eating finger foods, do you usually lick your fingers? Usually kasdjlf;kalsdjf shut up ok I like food. What’s the most racist thing you have ever said? As a little kid, when my really good friend (a neighborhood kid, even) asked if he thought we'd be a good couple, I told him no because "blacks and whites don't date" or something like that. It was an idea I'd never been exposed to before; the idea was so foreign to little kid me. I had no idea I was being racist. It ended in a small fight and we didn't talk for a few days 'til he came to my house telling Mom that he had to "be a man" and fix this and if that ain't the cUTEST SHIT RIGHT THERE. We were friends again after that. He's still on my Facebook, and he actually semi-recently got married! :') Do you know someone that is mute, deaf or blind? No. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? No. Does weed smell good? Or no? Ugh, no. Where do you see your closest friend in ten years? Successful and happy she kept pushing. Mama to so many reptiles that are blessed with the best lives possible in human care. Got at least one amazing book out there. If she's reading this, you've fucking got this. <3 Would you like to have twins? Mother of fucking god, no. Even if I WANTED kids, do fucking not give me twins. Who was the last person you got into an argument with? My mom. Want to have kids before you’re 30? Once again, I don't want kids, but IF I did, that'd be preferable before the risk of birth defects and other issues climb with age. Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? My older sister has my initial. Do you think somebody’s in love with you? No. Do you think you and your best friend will be friends in ten years? Yes, I genuinely do. Who were the last people to hang out at your house? Miss Tobey, our friend and landlord. Does anyone like you? Welp... I hope he still does. Guess we'll figure that out soon. What person on your Facebook do you talk to the most? VIA Facebook? Probably my friend Lyndsey. She likes to comment on stuff I share. Do you want to fall in love? I do, but I'm also utterly horrified to and risk being hurt again. Are you interested in more than one person at the moment? No. Once I realized I was so deeply into Girt, all other romantic feelings kinda just... poofed. How was your last break up? Civil and done with both of our best interests in mind. What is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to say? Probably the first time I admitted I needed to go to the hospital for suicidal thoughts. I was so, so scared of what it was going to be like. What is the hardest thing you NEEDED to hear? That if Jason wasn't happy with me, he had every right to move on. She was right. Do you treat yourself well? No... but I'm trying to change that. What was the last song you sang out loud to? This "Set Fire to the Rain" cover. Do you take good pictures? I think I do? Have you ever done any internship? No. What’s a topic you’ve drastically changed your opinion on? Holy shit, so much, especially when it comes to morality and political stances. I am now a massive supporter and member of the LGBTQ+ community, I'm pro-trans rights, pro-choice... I've done like a dozen 180s in a lot of topics. Do you know anyone who has a PhD? I mean, some doctors, but no one in my truly personal life. Do you know anyone who works as a lawyer? Yes: my cousin. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? LAKSDJFKLA;JWD NEVER AND I PRAY TO THE HOLY LORD THAT I NEVER DO. Does the thought of having wrinkles when you’re older upset you? Not massively? Like literally everyone gets them and is natural and inevitable. Do you know anyone who’s struggling with addiction? I know one alcoholic, and one that's probably borderline. I also have two friends who are extremely addicted to weed. Look me in the eyes and say it's not an addictive substance and I wouldn't believe you one bit. Is there a video or computer game that you can get lost in for hours? Eh, sometimes World of Warcraft. Some days I'm really into it, and others I barely touch it. What’s your favorite Disney Channel movie? I have no clue. I don't even remember movies that were made *for* Disney exclusively. Do you ever have to do yard work? No. We have a friend from the dance studio mow the lawn. Do you have any live versions of songs in your music software? My iPod has a whole live album of Ozzy. Did you or do you listen to Britney Spears songs? Both did and do. Britney is a boss bitch. Does your favorite band have a male or female lead singer? Male. Have you seen the movie Moulin Rouge? No, but I've seen some of that P!nk music video of the song and it brings out the Gay in me. Do you have a key to anything besides your house? No. Could you ever complete a 500-piece puzzle? I've done that before. I miss doing puzzles... Have you ever been to any sort of convention? I went to a reptile expo with Sara!! I REALLY want to go to another when my legs are stronger and can handle standing and walking so much. Is your mom or dad the older parent? Mom. Have you ever tried to walk on a moving vehicle and fallen over? No????? What is your favourite kind of bread? Is there any of that in your house? Pumpernickel. No. Are/were you in the school band, and if so, what instrument did you play? I played the flute all through middle school and I wanna say half of HS. Have you ever ordered an unusual drink at a bar? Never even been to one. Have you ever been pulled aside by security at the airport? I think once for some reason I don't recall? What is your favourite seasonal candy? (only available at certain times) Gingerbread men, probs. Or chocolate bunnies!!! :') How do you feel right now? My stomach is KILLING me. I'm super excited though that Girt is coming over tomorrow. Have you ever had surgery that kept you in the hospital for over a day? No. What would you like your generation to change? How we treat nature. Is there anyone that you truly could not live without? No. I learned that is a very unhealthy mentality to have. Do you like carrots more if they’re raw, or cooked? I just hate carrots. What restaurant did you last go out to dinner at with friends? With friends? I couldn't even guess. Does your refrigerator have an ice maker or do you use ice cube trays? It has an ice maker. Do you have a favorite sibling, if any? No; I love them all. Do you have a favorite brand of clothing? I STAN CLOAK. How’s the love life? Something new might start tomorrow. I think it will. Do you watch the news? No; that shit is depressing. Who do you admire most? Mark. Do you have a favorite album? Black Rain by Ozzy Osbourne takes the cake and always will.
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artificialqueens · 4 years
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working holiday (drabble, alaska-centric) - citrus
a/n: merry crisis! sorry for not posting in literal ages; i hope this little ficlet brings you some holiday joy! i was experimenting.
Alaska really fucking hated having to work on the day before Christmas Eve. She’d been up since the wee hours of the morning preparing for the rush of last-minute shoppers and families who were desperate to get their photos with Santa before he disappeared to make his yearly gift run, and she was already exhausted by noon. It didn’t help that she was being forced to wear a “cute little elf costume,” in the words of her manager; no, it was ill-fitting, uncomfortable, and made her feel fucking ridiculous.
The only way she got through the day was by stealing glances every so often to the dark-haired goddess who worked at the makeup counter; seeing her smile at customers as she made sales and small talk was worth the hours of discomfort that Alaska spent tending to displays that were constantly being knocked over by unruly children.
She almost cried in relief when their “Santa” took his break, because it meant that she was free from dealing with entitled parents and their entitled brats for at least half an hour. Sadly, her stunning coworker had yet to take her break, so Alaska was left to grab lunch alone, woefully counting down the minutes until she’d be back on the clock.
Coming back to the line, she noticed that one of the displays of comically oversized gift boxes had been shuffled again. Rolling her eyes, she began fixing it, and cursed her stupid employer for not thinking about adding weights to the cheap decoration. It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford anything better.
Alaska glanced over at the makeup counter again and saw that her coworker Raven had taken over, with no one else in sight. She internally lamented her holiday schedule as she ushered families through the line to meet Santa, wishing she could just go back to her normal job. It had been a stupid idea to temp here, but she needed the money. A tap on her shoulder snapped her back into reality and she turned around to face whoever wanted her attention, praying that it wasn’t an angry parent or a rude customer. Instead, she was met with soft brown eyes and red lips curved into a smile.
“Manila!” she exclaimed. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” the goddess apologized, her smile never wavering. She held up a red coffee cup, the paper matching her impeccable manicure, and offered it to Alaska. “I got you a latte.”
Despite her best efforts, Alaska found herself blushing as she took the cup from Manila’s hands. “Thanks. You’re sweet.”
“Not as sweet as you,” Manila replied, “Although those candy cane tights do nothing for your legs.” Alaska looked down with a smile, nudging Manila’s shoe with her own.
“You wouldn’t believe how long it took me to get them on today. I swear they shrunk or something.”
Manila laughed at that, and it was like bells. “You poor thing. At least it’s your last day of wearing them! I’m totally willing to help you burn them,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper.
“I might take you up on that,” Alaska giggled. “Isn’t your shift almost over?”
“Yeah, I should run. Power through this last shift. I believe in you!” With that, she brushed the lightest kiss over Alaska’s cheek and made her way back over to the makeup counter to pack up, leaving Alaska to blush and ignore the slightly dirty look that one family was giving her.
The rest of the day was monotonous, and Alaska nearly cried with joy when she heard the “store closing” announcement over the intercom. She swore she’d never changed so quickly in her life, and she was more than happy to leave the employee bathroom in her street clothes, not even bothering to take the stupid elf costume home with her. It was her last day; never again would she have to smile until it hurt, and pretend that the abuse from customers was completely fine with her. She drove to her apartment in silence, thinking about the smile Manila had given her on her way out, and the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. Fuck, she had it bad.
Upon entering her apartment, she noticed that the only lights that were on were those of the Christmas tree and the other holiday lights strung around her living space. A single holiday candle was burning on the coffee table, and the pine scent mixed with another smell in the air, something warm and spicy and…
“Welcome home, baby,” her girlfriend greeted with a smile, wearing a silly Christmas apron and holding a tray of freshly-baked gingerbread. Alaska’s heart fluttered as she took off her coat and winter gear before crossing the room to give her girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. She was soft and warm, giggling when Alaska’s cold lips pressed against her rosy cheeks and giving her cold nose a peck in return. Alaska brushed a platinum curl out of her girlfriend’s eyes, kissing her again.
“You didn’t have to do all this, you goof,” she smiled. The gesture was so sweet and thoughtful, and for a moment she wondered if it had been her plan all day. The lights, the candle, the gingerbread… It was all perfect, and though it wasn’t the most grandiose thing in the world, Alaska wouldn’t have had it any other way. She was lucky that she’d chosen to share her life with someone who was so kind and understanding, who wanted to make her happy whenever she could.
“I know,” her love grinned back. “Do you like it, though? I wanted to make your last day of that stupid job feel a little bit more special, now that it’s finally over.”
Alaska leaned closer, allowing her girlfriend to set the tray of cookies down and melt into her embrace fully. “I love it.” She almost felt guilty for thinking about Manila all day at work, but she knew that her girlfriend would probably understand if she told her about it. It had been weird, working with Manila, and Alaska was glad that the job was over too. Not just because of how terrible it was in general, but because she knew that she wouldn’t have to see Manila at work again. She could focus on the girl she was with here and now, at home, the girl who had prepared a beautiful welcome-home gift for her.
“Good. I know how much you hated it, but I’m proud of you for getting through it.”
“The money was definitely worth the long hours,” Alaska agreed with a guilty smile. “You’ll be getting some really nice presents this year.”
Her girlfriend laughed. “I don’t care about that, you dork. C’mon, I ordered pizza. Let’s eat before it gets cold.“
“God, I love you,” Alaska proclaimed, grinning.”
After eating dinner, Alaska snuggled up to her love on the sofa, the two of them drinking hot cocoa and playfully dunking gingerbread men into the hot drinks until their limbs crumbled off and had to be fished out and eaten. Alaska hadn’t thought about work in hours, and she smiled as her girlfriend cuddled even closer, leaning into her side.
“I’m glad that you’re home, y’know,” she murmured, stretching up to steal a tender kiss. “I missed you.”
“You missed me?” Alaska laughed. “You just saw me! Like, literal hours ago.”
Manila smiled.
“And I missed you every minute since then.“ 
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alwaysmychoices · 5 years
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“In the Morning Light”
Synopsis: After their night together, Ethan Ramsey and Charlie explore their first morning together, and in his apartment this morning, they’re not just an intern and an attending... 
Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)
Choices Story: Open Heart
Rating: NSFW 
Words: 4326
Part 4 of “A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey”
part 1: drunk texts - part 2: a day with dr. ramsey - part 3: unspoken - part 4: in the morning light - part 5: brunch - part 6: the library -  part 7: the cure - part 8: the celebration - part 9: goodbye
Commenting, liking, and reblogging mean the world to writers, so thank you so much for engaging with my content
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The sun dawned on Boston ray by ray, slowly illuminating Ethan Ramsey’s apartment. It began with a stray beam of light breaking through the barriers of the master bedroom’s curtains, the first sign that night had transformed to morning, but soon, the bedroom was enveloped in sunlight and illuminated the two stray souls that had found paradise under the cloak of midnight.
Ethan woke first, unable to ignore the morning light invading his bedroom.
Only a few months ago, the abundant natural light had been his primary attraction to this apartment. With only thin curtains to separate him from the Boston skyline, it was impossible for Ethan to sleep beyond his first alarm, and he lived much of his life under the shroud of twilight. By the time the rest of the world was waking up and making their first cup of coffee, Ethan was already in his office with piles of work to accomplish.
But after leaving Edenbrook, his insufficient defenses were a constant reminder that his life had changed. During his first post-Edenbrook hangover, he’d cursed everything – the sun, the curtains, the window, and himself – but never fixed it. He felt like upgrading his window dressings would be accepting defeat, and Ethan Ramsey was always more than ready to punish himself for perceived misdoings.
This morning, however, as he watched Charlie stir from the overwhelming sunlight, he didn’t feel like it would be a defeat to change his bedroom’s furnishings. Rather, it felt like a step in a new direction. It felt like he was on the cusp of a new world and different priorities. It felt like… making a place for her in his life.
Ethan’s chest constricted at the very thought. He was overwhelmed by how easy it was to welcome her into his life. Despite months of actively opposing her, she’d met the challenge and broken down all of his barriers to claim his heart. He always knew that, when he finally let her in, he could never go back. And now that she was here in his bed, he couldn’t fathom keeping her at arm’s length ever again.
The idea terrified him.
Until Charlie arrived, Ethan had been a god among men. Medicine was a game, and he always won. He tackled insurmountable obstacles like others approached a crossword puzzle. Personal relationships were insignificant in a life that revolved around his patients. Ethan Ramsey made a deal with the devil, winning success and prestige and losing a life outside of Edenbrook’s doors.
And then Charlie happened.
Life brought Ethan Ramsey to his knees, challenging his identity as a curer and rendering him useless to his loved one’s suffering. And she was there. Charlie was always there, even when he didn’t want her to be. She didn’t shy away from his ill temper or steel gaze, and he was acutely aware of how he didn’t deserve her.
Ethan watched Charlotte Greene sleep beside him in silent awe. He could now see the tension she’d carried on her shoulders since Mrs. Martinez’s death, especially the permanent crinkle between her eyebrows he recognized from his own reflection. Deep in slumber, she seemed almost blissful. Her delicate features were so soft now, and Ethan almost felt as if he was witnessing something too pure for his own eyes.  He’d never felt the division between Charlie and Dr. Greene so fiercely as he did this morning. Dr. Greene was weighed down with the responsibility of saving lives and protecting patients, but Charlie was the girl who spent hours cuddling with his dog yesterday. It was a strange sensation to acknowledge the contrast between her personal and professional persona while reconciling these differences into one figure – his Rookie.
Charlie stirred as the light attempted to disrupt her peaceful slumber. With eyebrows knit in frustration, she let out a sleepy “humph” as she tried to escape the sun in her half-asleep state, and she inched closer to Ethan, burying her face in his chest to hide from the morning light.
Ethan chuckled, his arms instinctively wrapping around her and gently smoothing her wild curls.
“Why the fuck is it so bright in here?” Charlie’s words were garbled and full of sleep.
“It’s morning,” Ethan whispered in return, and he could feel Charlie’s features twist in distaste against his chest.
“Boo,” she mumbled, hugging him closer as if it could bring back the night.
When Charlie Greene fell asleep in Ethan Ramsey’s arms, she never wanted to wake up. She wanted to live in the precarious state of euphoria when she’d been so close to Ethan. Even with his whispered promise to stay, she was burdened with the expectation that he would do what he always did and pull away from her. They’d crossed a line, and she was afraid to peak at what was on the other side.
“How is anyone supposed to sleep like this?” Charlie whined, earning Ethan’s chuckle. Her grip on the man beside her didn’t dare lessen. She held on to him – and their night together – like a raft in the middle of the ocean. Charlie knew what happened last night. She knew what they said, what they felt, and what they did. But this morning was a mystery, one that had the power to dash all of her hopes.
“If you can’t block the sun, you can’t ignore the alarm clock,” Ethan repeated his former philosophy for his former student and wondered if he would have taught her that if their relationship had not always hung on the balance of professional and passionate. When he campaigned for Charlie to join Edenbrook’s residency, he recognized a potential in her that he could mold into excellence. Would he have been able to reform her lifestyle to emulate his, or was she always destined to change him?
Charlie carefully pulled away from his warm, muscular chest just enough to look up at him and cock an eyebrow.
“You designed your bedroom to make sure you’d make it to work early?” Charlie repeated, trying her best not to smile.
“I’m not sure I would phrase it like that, but I suppose I did,” Ethan confirmed, amused by her apparent interest.
Charlie bit on her lower lip, trying hard to hold it in before the chuckle finally escaped, “That might be the most Ethan Ramsey thing I’ve ever heard.’
“There are ‘Ethan Ramsey things’ you’ve heard?” Ethan challenged her, pushing her hair behind her ear so he could see her sassy smile better. Without her saying a word, he already knew that she was about to be a smartass, and he found himself looking forward to it.
“Mmmhmm,” Charlie hummed.
“Like?” Ethan prompted.
“Like yelling at an intern and then buying your favorite patient a candy bar a few minutes later,” Charlie’s eyes sparkled with mischief, “But if you want to hear the things I’ve heard about you, that’s much more interesting.”
“And what have you heard about me?” Ethan took the bait.
“Let’s see…” Charlie pondered aloud, resting her chin on his chest, “On my first day, I was walking through the halls when a resident said, ‘I can’t decide if I should focus on his ass or him being an ass.”
Ethan’s eyes visibly widened, though he attempted to maintain an air of disinterest, and it made Charlie laugh.
“There’s one about your dick, I think…” Charlie teased him and quickly found the outrage she was hoping for.
“That’s completely –“ Ethan was prepared to talk about how unethical and inappropriate such talk would be in the workplace, but Charlie cut him off with a kiss.
“A joke,” Charlie finished for him, whispering against her lips before adding, “Though someone did call you the world’s only living heart donor…”
Ethan narrowed his eyes at the woman in his bed, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her flush to him, “You found that funny?” his breath was hot against her skin, his stubble so close that it threatened to scratch her skin. Charlie swallowed, suddenly overwhelmed by how close she held this man.
“Maybe it’s too young for you,” Charlie dared, and she swallowed hard when she found the heat in his gaze. She hadn’t given him the nickname of “Dr. McSexy” lightly, but holy shit, she never imagined how hot Dr. Ramsey could be.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, “Are you calling me old, Charlotte?”
She’d never imagined that anyone could make her own name sound that indecent.
“If I was, what would you do about it?” Charlie’s words were breathless now, obviously affected by him. She didn’t just want to know what he would do. She needed to feel it, to feel him.
“I’d tell you that’s not a nice thing to say, and I might have to show you why…” Ethan’s voice was so close to her as his hand released her waist and snaked up her back, his strong fingers tangling in her hair to hold her head steady as she looked back at him. Ethan felt intoxicated by the glint in her eyes and the obvious need in her heated stare.
Right then, he knew he’d been right all along. The second he let Charlotte in, he could never let her go.
“Are you offering to punish me, Dr. Ramsey?” Charlie’s eyes lingered on his lips, and he smirked softly.
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Ethan’s lips were closer and closer and finally so close that Charlie couldn’t think of anything but their proximity. Her arms looped around his neck, running her fingers through his bedhead. She could still smell the faint memory of his cologne, and heat pooled in her core as she spotted the tiny bruise on his neck – her mark.
Ethan tilted his head, his lips brushing across her neck. His stubble deliciously scratched at her skin, and she instantly craned her neck to give him more access. His kisses were soft and careful, just enough that she wanted more, but in fairness, Charlie always wanted more of him.
His hands, however, had the freedom to explore every inch of her body. Goosebumps followed his tender touch. His hand roamed her back, working their way to her breasts and then down the planes of her stomach. When he found the apex of her thighs, his touch became lighter and more purposeful, and Charlie squirmed with desire as she moved her hips closer to his hand.
“Impatient, are we?” Ethan chuckled into her neck, watching as her body flushed with the internal heat spreading through her limbs.
“For you, always,” Charlie admitted.
“Last night, I told you that patience is a virtue,” Ethan reminded her as he gently rolled her on her back. Propping himself up on his elbows, Ethan’s fingertips grazed her navel and then lower and lower and just so close. Charlie swallowed as he gently pushed her thighs apart, and she insisted she could feel the experience in his strong hands.
“I guess you’ll have to remind me,” Charlie whimpered, biting on her lower lip as her cravings mounted.
Ethan swore he felt a physical reaction to her invitation, suddenly so lost in this woman that he didn’t care if they ever left this bed at all. Still, that didn’t mean he stopped teasing her. He took his sweet time to reach her core before his thumb finally grazed the sweet spot. She gasped at the sensation, already sensitized to the feeling of being with him.
Watching her react to his touch was enough to give any man an ego, and Ethan enjoyed the control he had over her. She nearly fell apart when he finally gave her what she wanted, circling the sensitive nub. He watched as she fell apart at his touch, her lips parted and eyes fluttering closed as she squirmed in delight.
And then Charlie looked up at him, eyes clouded by lust and something warm yet unfamiliar. The smile that spread across her lips was brighter than the sun as she slung an arm around his neck, pulling him to her kiss.
Ethan extended his index finger, slowly sliding it inside her, and her delicious little gasp against his lips made him groan. Ethan did everything he could to earn her little noises as he curled his finger, and the momentary pain of her fingernails digging into his shoulder settled into pleasure.
“Mmm, Ethan, please,” Charlie whimpered, “I need you.”
And Ethan never thought of turning her down.
“Is that a command?” Ethan whispered, gently biting on her lower lip as he moved his hand away from her.
“Yes,” Charlie affirmed, licking her taste off his finger, and his expression morphed into that of shameless awe.
Ethan’s unapologetic grip on her hips made her skin burn with desire as he placed her exactly where he wanted her. Moving between her, he kissed along her neck as his length slowly filled her. Charlie’s body seemed to melt into his at the sensation, murmuring something along the lines of “oh fuck” as the pleasure settled over her. She was delirious with the feeling and clung onto him with desire.
Charlie was love drunk, and she enjoyed every moment.
Ethan was lost in this woman as he moved against her, and he was determined to claim her in every way. His lips were on her body – on her neck, on her chest, on her lips. He was everywhere, and his overwhelming presence comforted Charlie beneath him. One hand on his cheek, she held their kiss and smiled at the feeling of his stubble on her skin, silently praying he would never shave. With each thrust, heat and desire pooled in their cores, and they savored every second.
Charlie’s spine arched as she pleasure surged desperate to be closer to Ethan.
“Ethan…” On her lips, his name was a whisper, praise, and warning. She was so close that all she could think about was him, was this, was… them – and how much she never wanted to leave this moment.
Her body tightened around his, her fingers tugging on his hair as she neared the edge, and Ethan buried himself in her touch as his pace increased.
And then it was just too much. They burned too bright, too fast, too perfect. Charlie tried so hard to hold on and stay in the moment, but she fell into her climax, submerged in satisfaction and pleasure. Ethan fell over with her, savoring all her little sounds of delight.  
And for a minute, they stayed together as the all-consuming orgasms subsided. Charlie’s tug on Ethan’s hair went limp as she slowly pushed his hair out of his face, gazing up at him with that same unfamiliar look he couldn’t identify, but somehow, he knew his expression mirrored his. Instead of letting her go, Ethan’s arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer as he fell back to the bed.
“Still want to call me old?” Ethan’s laugh was hoarse with the effort he’d just given, much to Charlie’s amusement.
“If that’s what happens, I’ll never stop calling you old,” Charlie laughed, nuzzling into his chest as he lazily drew patterns into her skin with his fingertips.
How could Ethan not kiss her after that?
In fact, Ethan’s list of scenarios worth kissing Charlie over had grown exponentially overnight, and it was increasingly difficult to think of when he shouldn’t hold her close. He felt like an addict to her affection, and he wondered if he’d even recognize the man in the mirror.
If this was infatuation, no wonder everyone had been so confused about Ethan’s solitary lifestyle, but Ethan doubted that anyone other than Charlie could ever make him feel this way.
Neither of them were sure how long they stayed in bed, just whispering pillow talk and enjoying each other’s proximity, but eventually, they decided to leave the sanctuary of Ethan’s bed.
It was Charlie’s second time in Ethan’s shower in the last twenty-four hours but the first time actually sharing it with him. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t imagined a scenario like this when she last showered here, but she never expected she’d actually experience it.
Still high with their post-orgasmic bliss, they took their time in Ethan’s walk-in shower, testing out the temperature as they shared the hot water. It was almost strange how close they felt. Even being a few steps away felt foreign, and they elected to avoid it as much as possible. As they washed each other, they admired their handiwork with the various bruises and scratches on each other’s body.
Charlie’s fingertips ran along the scratches on Ethan’s back, somewhat embarrassed by how emphatic she’d been, “Does that hurt?”
Ethan raised an eyebrow, casting a casual glance at his shoulder as he shook his head, “I’ll survive a scratch, Rookie.”
Charlie threw a relaxed glare his way and kissed his shoulder as if apologizing to the scratches.
“I enjoyed everything you did last night,” Ethan turned to face her, the water running down his body, and for a moment, Charlie couldn’t help but stare.
“Even throwing a pillow at you and telling you to go fuck yourself?” Charlie couldn’t help but tease him, teetering on the edge of embarrassment for her outburst last night.
She’d meant every single word she said, and given the opportunity, she’d say them again. She cared for Ethan but felt caught in the trap of being his plaything at times, something for him to pull close and then throw away when his morality told him to. She feared his intimacy and commitment issues, and she doubted either of those would magically disappear because they’d had a heart-to-heart and had sex. But there was a reason she needed liquid courage to say all that she did. Under his gaze, she wasn’t just naked. She was vulnerable. She’d put everything out there, reserving only three words, and was at his mercy.
“You were right,” Ethan conceded. He wanted to make her believe him and show everything he felt, but a barrier remained. The words refused to leave his mouth, so he kissed her forehead instead, “I was being an asshole.”
Charlie smiled softly, leaning into him as she murmured, “When are you not an asshole?”
If anyone else had said that, he would have been irate, but it wasn’t just anybody – it was Charlie.
And for her, he laughed.
That morning, Charlie finally got her hands on the embarrassing t-shirt she’d been dreaming of since the drunk texts that started their weekend. Ethan couldn’t understand her fascination with some branded, absurd t-shirt given to him to publicize a race he’d participated in years ago, but he acknowledged the apparent happiness in her eyes when she shimmied into it.
The words had nearly faded away, but Charlie could still make out the orange scribble of “Turkey Trot 10K 2015” as well as a cartoon turkey dancing on the breast pocket. It was soft from years of washes, despite spending ages forgotten in the back of Ethan’s closet. Had he even remembered its existence, he would have donated it years ago, but as he watched her parading around in it now, he was happy he’d held onto it.
Stifling his smirk, he started to make coffee and watched out of the corner of his eye as Charlie disappeared into his living room. When she returned, Jenner was in her arms, and he arguably looked more enamored than Charlie did.
“So, are you just a fan of ridiculous t-shirts, or do you specifically enjoy cartoon turkeys?” Ethan couldn’t help himself. He had to know why she’d been so eager to sport the holiday shirt, and as he turned back to look at her and wait for his response, he was surprised to find that, even in something as comical as a “Turkey Trot” t-shirt, she was still so beautiful.
Charlie laughed, rubbing behind Jenner’s ears as she considered the question.
It wasn’t that it was just a ridiculous shirt. It was his shirt. It was a part of him that few had ever seen before. It was an element of his life beyond Edenbrook. It helped form the fabric of the man that existed outside of his career. It was so uniquely Ethan and so different from “Dr. Ramsey.”
She wasn’t just enamored with an amusing shirt. She was enamored with him.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, laughing softly to herself, “it’s just…”
She almost finished with, You.
But instead, she played it nonchalant, “I find them funny.”
Ethan knew there was something behind that casual smile, and he almost pressed her. But then the coffee was finished brewing, and he decided to let her hold onto her secret.
The warm, familiar smell of coffee brought a smile to Charlie’s lips as he offered her a mug. Unsurprisingly, it was one of the best cups of coffee she’d ever had, and it put the murky dishwater from Edenbrook to shame. They were talking about something unmemorable, but Ethan could never forget the way she laughed when he said something funny. It was true bliss, and as their cups drained and the clock continued to tick, it was slipping from their fingers.
Charlie wanted to hide away in this innocent Eden for the rest of her life. Free of external pressure, they existed in their true forms here. They were two people standing at the beginning of something real and exciting, and they were left alone to their skipped heartbeats and tender touches. She wasn’t just an intern, and he wasn’t just an attending.
As their professional lives went to hell, they’d found a new heaven with each other.
But their night had ended, and Charlie had to leave.
Ethan helped Charlie look for her jeans, smirking when he found them crumbled in the corner of his bedroom. They found her shoes in his living room, and her bra had fallen under his bed along with her underwear. Her shirt had been washed since she arrived at his apartment two nights before, drunk and put to bed in his guest room, but she continued to wear his t-shirt instead. Ethan had charged her cellphone for her, and she found dozens of texts from her friends, wondering where the hell she was after she’d sent them a vague text the day before assuring them that she was fine and staying with a friend for a while. While she was still scrolling through their group chat, Sienna sent a reminder about their roommate brunch, and Charlie’s heart sunk with the realization that her departure from Ethan’s apartment was sooner than expected.
“I’ll walk you home,” Ethan told Charlie as he collected Jenner’s leash, trying to hide his sincere gesture under the guise of taking his dog for a walk. In truth, he just didn’t want to let her go yet…
Charlie raised an eyebrow at his statement because that’s what it was – it was a statement, not an offer. He was walking her home.
“You don’t have to,” Charlie smiled, scratching Jenner under his chin as Ethan prepared him for the walk.
“I know,” Ethan answered simply as he collected their keys, and with a kiss on the side of Charlie’s head, he was off.
Boston’s energy had lulled into a peaceful Sunday morning. Couples and families milled through the streets, passing them in favor of nearby farmers markets and parks, and a soft breeze carried them through the sunny day. Charlie and Ethan, both being workaholics, lived close to Edenbrook and therefore each other. It was a pleasant walk that was far too short for either of their liking.
“Are you doing anything tonight?” Charlie asked tentatively, biting on her inner cheek as she turned her eyes to Ethan. Despite everything, she was still terrified that she’d somehow misinterpreted their closeness and everything that had happened in the last two days, and she held her breath as she anticipated another rejection from Ethan Ramsey.
“Charlie…” Ethan squeezed her hand, which had somehow found its way to his in their walk, “You should be preparing for your hearing.”
The ethics hearing.
She hadn’t allowed herself to think about it in so long that hearing it come out of Ethan’s mouth felt like a slap to the face. Her entire future held in the balance of a rigged hearing, and she was doomed to anticipate it, teetering between naïve hope and realistic fears.
“I don’t know how much I can prepare when Nolan’s already bought half the panel,” Charlie muttered to herself.
“Rookie,” Ethan stopped suddenly, his hand pulling Charlie back to him. As much as she tried to avoid his bright blue eyes, he made her look at him and cupped her cheek in his hand as he told her, “You did what you did for the good of a patient. No matter what happens, you’re a good doctor, and you owe it to yourself and your patients to give it your all.”
Charlie nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek as she absorbed his words, “You’re right.”
“I’m always right,” Ethan’s smile was so infectious that, through her pain, Charlie still laughed.
“Sure,” Charlie rolled her eyes.
“I wrote the textbook you studied,” Ethan bragged, making Charlie laugh even harder as she began to walk again.
“Wow, a genius who still maintains humility. How impressive,” Charlie impishly mocked him.
“My humility is exceptional,” Ethan played along, knowing he’d do just about anything to make her laugh.
When they reached Charlie’s building, they knew they’d reached the end of the road, but Charlie was still smiling so bright at him.
“To clarify, I’m definitely coming over tonight though, right?” she smirked.
He should have told her to stay home and prepare, but who was he to say no?
“Definitely,” Ethan agreed.
Charlie leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before parting ways. As she reached the front door to her building, she waved, “Goodbye, Dr. Ramsey.”
“Goodbye, Rookie.”
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I currently have a cold, so if you see any mistakes, please blame my crappy immune system. NGL, I loved writing happy Ethan x MC, but if the finale of Open Heart showed us anything, it’s that they won’t be that way forever.
Part 5 coming soon...
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anonymous-girl37 · 4 years
Text
Here is my story.
Most stories tend to start with things being normal, however, for this one, it is honestly a clusterfuck of bullshit with a little bit of normalcy thrown in to give me the illusion of stability. Even when I was only nine, I remember fun and family activities were never really with just her and us- it was always with somebody else there to motivate her. I sort of had to raise Katie and Kylie on my own at some points. She took care of us technically speaking; she didn’t starve us or anything, she just wasn’t available for the emotional side of being a parent. The parts that kids grow up to remember, unfortunately for us.
One of the best examples of her neglectful care for us was around that time... Me being around age… eight? Nine? It all blurs together at some points, but the point is I was young.
My mom always takes naps, they last a whole ten minutes sometimes, but she’s always tired, maybe she’s sick. Whenever she’s sleeping, she says I get to play house with my sisters and pretend I’m the mom. My favorite is when she drives to the store for candy for us because then I make the rules for extra long. I get to make them lunch and play outside. Sometimes she lets me read them stories before their nap time, which is mommy’s relaxing time, so I get the whole rest of the house to myself. I get to make all the rules, dad never lets me do that. He doesn’t know, mommy said it’s our secret. I hate when she doesn’t get her naps in because then she’s grumpy. She went away for a whole week and she hasn’t taken a nap or been grumpy since she got back, maybe the doctors did surgery and fixed her. She’s even taking us to the park while dad’s at work tomorrow.
It’s been a week now, mommy was going to take us swimming but she said her head hurt too much, and the next day we were supposed to play in the woods but she needed to take a nap, and it was almost time for dinner when she woke up. Dad couldn’t know she was napping again, or he’d make her go away for a long time she said. She tells me I’m a good secret keeper. Maybe tomorrow she will let us go swimming.
Mommy’s been back home for two weeks and her medicine already stopped working, I wish it worked for longer cause I miss when mommy was fun. Mommy loves when I play house with my little sisters, but sometimes I get tired of it. I have to listen to her anyway. She’s better than dad because she doesn’t have any stupid rules. All dad ever does is work, we only get to play with him for a little bit after work and on the weekends.
It wasn’t something that stopped, her shitty “parenting” if you can even call it that, never improved. I was 12 years old popping Klonopin like candy, with her permission of course. Not only was she okay with me taking drugs, but she also fueled my addiction with her prescription. At least she was generous with her pills, however, she had plenty enough to share. She got a script of 90 a month from one doctor and 60 a month from another. She was good at pretending to have illnesses for drugs, and trust me, it’s extremely escalated since then. I don’t know who else she gave them away to, but when she ran out she always found a way to get more. Pills were more important to her than us having new clothes, and undergarments. She cared more about pills than saving money to do fun stuff with my sisters and me. She only ever wanted to be high, and she was so good at hiding it. She had our whole family fooled for years. She lived and still does live a life of lies. She sucks the life out of everyone she’s near. She sucked the life out of me. She had me becoming friends with kids who dealt drugs, It was a messy situation all around, I hung around people much older than me, I did drugs with men almost twice my age, however, usually Nicole was around for that part. At least she didn’t leave me alone with strange men, before the age of 13, I guess that was the cut-off. She decided I was mature enough, old enough, to hang out with men 8 years older than me. Luckily I had someone to protect me. Anthony tried to at least, to help me become my best. He wasn’t much better off than me in regards to a mother and he had a terrible drug problem. We experienced the same things in different ways. It felt like everything I went through, he did before me. Our lives were nowhere near identical. He grew up with his grandfather who fucked him out of his childhood, quite literally. I was addicted to Xanax, but that was nowhere near strong enough for his need to forget. Heroin was his kryptonite, he couldn’t get enough of it, but no matter how high he was, or how dope sick he was because he couldn’t find any, he made sure I was okay, he told me he loved me. Every day, that was the first thing I would hear him say. Our entire lives were straight ahead of us. He was poetic and artistic, and everything he said to me sounded like a quote from a book. He wanted his story heard, and he wanted me to be the one to hear it. It feels like I’m now responsible for telling the world. He never wanted anyone to know him, just who he was. He wasn’t all happy, and nice, he was a total asshole sometimes, I’m not sure that he was even aware. The love we had was one I’ll never forget though.
I’ve dropped my bottle and there’s broken glass on the ground now. I guess that’s what I get for being lost in these thoughts. It cut my leg but I can’t feel it. The glass reminds me of him. It reminds me of the night all of us got drunk and they were smashing glass bottles on the concrete. He screams “whoever runs through it gets $20 and this” as he’s holding a ½ empty bottle of rum. And some other guy told him he’d give home $100.00 to do it. So he runs through the things, falls, and has glass stuck from his feet to his knees. I’ll never forget that smell, blood, and vodka. I spent damn near two hours pulling glass out of his legs and feet and bandaging them up.
July Summer 2017
Today had to have been the best day of my life. Anthony took me to our spot, and we talked for hours, about nothing and everything, as always. We’re getting sober together. We’re going to do it. We promised. Today marks 1 day clean. Weed is an exception because fuck quitting that. I would do anything to make this man happy. I’ve known for a long time that he loves me, but today made me realize how much I truly love him too. I’m happy with him. My life is chaotic right now, but he’s my calm. He’s my peace. I can’t wait for the day we never have to leave each other again.
August 11 summer 2017
We’ve been sober for a month today. I want to go to this back to school party but Anthony is being a little bitch about it. I’ll convince him to go.
August 12 summer 2017
He died. On purpose. I made him go to the party and he overdosed. I thought he was just drunk. We cuddled on the porch swing until he fell over into my lap. He laid in my lap for 20 minutes before I knew. He had no pulse. He left a note in my back pocket. I can’t bring myself to look at it. I want to get rid of it.
My god damn room is a mess. Today marks 3 years since I lost the love of my life. I'm already drunk and it’s only 10 a.m. and of course, I, the drug addict, would take pills on a day like today. He would be so disappointed, but it’s finally come the time I read his suicide note, it’s finally the day, I’ve worked up the courage, I can do it. I need to do it. I must lock my door again, I can’t have another interruption. The door could’ve become unlocked. It’s locked, I’ve re-locked it twice now. I never imagined sitting on my bed, reading his note, his last words, whilst I’m a high and drunk mess. You’ll have that though, one of the greatest things Nicole ever taught me was to mask my feelings with drugs. I owe it to him. To read his last words. His voice still deserves to be heard.
Katrina,
I’m so sorry. I can’t keep doing this. I still kneel in the shower, and put my face down, letting the water puddle in my hands as if they could grow big enough to protect me from myself. The pain hits me randomly, it’s like I know I have lungs and I must be able to breathe, but I can’t, the air refuses to come. To this day, I get flashbacks, and I hate the feeling. It’s not normal. These are things you can’t forget. You want to rot because it’s better than being beat than being hurt. I have trouble believing anyone when they tell me they love me, but it’s easier with you. You told me I was your happiness and I gave you butterflies. My depression, my struggle, and my addiction gave you the determination to fight to make me happy. I’m sorry, but things are getting bad again. I should have never begun putting you through my pain. I don’t want help, I don’t want you to kill yourself fighting to save me, and I know you would if I didn’t stop you. You may not see it, and I doubt you will agree, but I’m doing what’s best. You have given me the greatest possible love, you have so much going for you, and you’re still so full of life, don’t lose that. Stay clean for me. I can’t fight anymore. Maybe that makes me a coward, but being a coward to the world is better than the pain that never leaves me, I’m tired of living in my hell. My eyes are full of tears writing this, and I can barely read. I owe my temporary feelings of joy to you. Anyone who knows me knows that if someone out there was going to save me, it would have been you. I can’t go on showering you in my pain, I can see the hurt in your eyes when you look at me. I hurt you because I’m so hurt I don’t know how to breathe anymore. If I die tonight, know that it’s for the best. Know that I haven’t truly been alive in a long time, that’s if I ever was at all. Don’t ruin yourself over me. Tell yourself what we had wasn’t real. Repeat to yourself that I never really loved you until you believe it. I treated you like a project, I manipulated you. Fool yourself into hating me. Because you’re going to see me in every single person. You’ll see some piece of me In everyone you meet. I know you, you’re going to look for me, whether you know you are or not, you’re going to seek me. If all of the words you said were true, you’re never going to give up looking for someone like me, you won’t find him. Find someone better. Find someone who fulfills you. You deserve a man who gives you the world even when he is falling apart. You deserve a love that doesn’t end, I want you to have those feelings again. I’m begging you not to look for me, I’m gone. I’m sorry that you’re never going to stop seeing pieces of me. Look for the good qualities, but I’m sure you’ll find the bad ones too. You’ll find my sense of humor in every funny movie, and all the chick flicks will remind you of our love. You’ll find my eyes in the face of a stranger and you’ll see my smile on little kids playing at the park. I’ll always be here for you whether I’m physically present or not. I was never sober. I told you I was because I knew if I got you started I could live with myself for leaving.
In reading this I thought I’d feel relieved, possibly ready to let the last of him go. But now I’m lost, more so than before. Now I’m angry, not with him, but with the world. You can’t hate someone for killing themselves, but you can hate the world for making them do it. You can hate the god or goddess or gods or goddesses you do or don’t believe in for letting it happen. I want to hate him, but I can’t because he’s not here, he took away my power to hate him, and so now I hate everything else. I hate everyone else. He wasn’t lying when he said I would see him in everyone. I see his good qualities somewhere in everyone, I see his bad qualities in every bad person but, I see him in everyone. It’s like when he died he became the universe, the universe swallowed him whole and he left a part of him in everyone. He picked who got his best qualities as if he knew I would find them. I do see his smile on the little kids playing at the park. I see his eyes in the only other man I’ve ever truly loved, they’re not the same, but the feelings in them are similar. I find his humor in every comedy. Sometimes I think maybe what he said was true, that he’d always be there for me whether physically present or not, because sometimes, on some of my worst days, I feel him. For just a minute, I can let myself pretend he isn’t gone. I can let myself pretend he never left this earth. Then my whole world comes crashing right back down. He swore to me he was sober. He promised. I think he only lied so I would be okay. I resent him for telling me to hate him. Because I can’t hate him, I want to so badly, but It’s impossible. Any pain he put me through was nothing compared to how he felt.
That's enough about him for now, as we're going to have to re-open that discussion later. Peach vodka sounds fantastic right now, I'll have a whipped pinnacle and peach smoothie. I could not have possibly made it any stronger than it is. Thank god for mind-altering substances, because quite frankly, I would be dead without them.
Nicole, if you're reading this, how did you do what you did? How were you content with yourself in the way you raised my sisters and me? Did you plan it all, or did you just go with the flow and lie when necessary? You never left a bruise, hell, you never even hit us. You scarred us permanently though, my sisters may not see it yet, but I do. Instead of giving us scars that would heal physically and show your crimes, you gave us invisible ones. The ones that people will deny us having for the rest of our lives. The ones that will always haunt us when we see you. You gave us scars that we can't get covered up with a pretty tattoo. You may not have hurt them as badly as me, but they don't deserve your games. I don't want them to experience even half of what I did.
Her games have left me empty, shallow, broken, and confused. I'm not confused about what she did or who she is, I'm confused about why. Why wasn't I good enough to deserve her love and compassion? What did I do so wrong? Why was I the one chosen to take on her role and try to fix my own life, and protect myself from someone who was supposed to protect and love me? I was forced to grow up so she could go backward. She wanted to live vicariously through me as if she wanted to become me. Everything I did, she did too. All the drugs I did, she just had to try, sometimes do them with me. Nothing was too far for her. She never told my dad though, "don't let your father find out" she would constantly imbed that into my head, it got to the point where I had become two people. One for my mother and one for my father. I remember breaking down one day, crying to myself because I felt like no one knew me and I didn't know who I was, and it was at that moment that I lost my sense of self. I'll probably never know who I am, or why. I have no clue who I want to be. I don't know how to become someone for myself, I've learned to feel as if I must adapt to everyone else.
Nicole told me everything and I mean everything. You may think, "oh that's not so bad, she's being open." Perhaps there are some things you should never tell your children. Some people should never be parents.
She loved to tell me how she was going to be so lost and sad when her "babies"(children all over the age of 10) leave her(by this she meant to grow up and go to school). How she liked sleeping around with all kinds of different men because it was fun and she was good at manipulating them. She told me about her sexual experiences and I wish she wouldn't have sometimes. She told me all kinds of things about her sex life, even asked for my commentary on the experience. Then later she changed many of her stories and said she was raped which had made me feel responsible if that's what had happened because I knew so maybe I should have known. She told me about the men she was dating and even introduced me to some, made sure I knew them well. Her 38-year-old boyfriend talked dirty to me, and the 36-year-old boyfriend did drugs with me, while we were living with him. He was a big mess, but not abusive. However, as soon as she got tired of him she claimed he beat her. She claimed he was abusive so that everyone would pity her. But, she was a liar. He never hurt her. I would have seen it, I would have known. Once again, she had made me question my entire life.
I know about everyone she hates though there aren't many. Now whether it was authentic or a horrible attempt at making me feel sympathy for her, I truly didn't know. I hate knowing everything and having been forced to be her diary, being forced to let her live through me, but she changed me to be what her idea of a kid was. It wasn't a kid at all. She refused to fix any of her problems, no matter how hard I tried to help her, she just wanted to be responsibility-free forever, and I got in the way of that, so she made me her excuse to act like a child. She forced herself to puke and bragged about it. Talking about how much weight she could lose and how quickly. It gave me my sort of eating disorder of feeling strong or like I achieved something by how much I was able to puke up. Still to this day, it's some stupid competition in my head. Drugs are her favorite, they were then too. At Least then it was just Benzos, weed, and hallucinogens. I was the only one who knew, that was stressful, keeping that secret. She constantly made me be someone I wasn't, and she forced me to be someone else for my dad. But I never did know who I was. There was "party secret keeper" me and there was "the most innocent child to exist" me, but I never knew who "me" was without being forced to put on an act one way or another.
chapter 3: The worst of you.
You broke my heart, but I should have known it was coming. It was too often that I looked into your pretty green-blue ocean eyes just to find them glazed over in a drug-induced haze. The last month with you made up for the years of torture. The torture of not knowing where you were or who you were with. Watching you burst into nothing but rage because you couldn’t find your next fix. I never wanted anything but to save you. And when you offered to be sober so long as I was, of course, I took you upon it. I thought you meant it, though I always had my doubts. 3 am is when most of our story was told. You called me every morning at 3, without a doubt, I could always expect that.
July 21st, 2017.
Time 3:00 am
I wake up in your arms and lay there silently as I’m sure you dream peaceful dreams that match the calm state of your face, I still see the shadow of mental exhaustion under your eyes. I breathe slowly, as to not disrupt your sweet dreams. I love you.
July 22nd, 2017
Time 3:00 am
You open your beautiful ocean blue-green eyes to start the beginning of your new adventure. Our fingers intertwined, our eyes locked as if we couldn’t look away. I couldn't ask for a better feeling. I love you.
July 23rd, 2017
Time 3:00 am
The scent of chocolate fills the room. It happens to be your favorite drink, surprisingly, hot chocolate, a drink no one would expect someone like you to like. A half-smile spreads across your face, the smile that tells me at this moment you’re happy. I love you.
July 24th, 2017
Time 3:00 am
I hold you close, but maybe not close enough, feeling the warmth and comfort of your body against mine made me happy though. You make me feel complete. I love you.
July 25th, 2017
Time 3:00 am
You wake me up with a small forehead kiss. You seem to be happy today. That makes me smile. I love you.
July 26th, 2017
Time 3:00 am
The ring sits perfectly on my finger. With it, I promise you I’ll be okay, and I’ll follow our dreams. You have to leave soon, but I don't want you to leave. I never do. I love you.
August 5th, 2017
Time 3:00 am
You're restlessly tossing and turning, I’m sure you haven't slept yet, you’re still withdrawing. I lean over and put my arm across you and place my body against yours. I worry because I wake up to the sound of you crying every time we sleep together. I try to pull you into me and you rest your head on my chest and quietly sob, pretending you’re just sleeping so I won’t notice. You’re stuck in this terrible life. I’m sorry. I love you.
August 6th, 2017
Time 3:00 am
Laying on the couch. I could see you staring at the wall, I felt you caressing my hand, softly. You kiss my cheek softly and then give me a warm smile. I see the pain in your eyes. It shatters my soul more every single second I look at you. You have to leave again soon. I want you to stay with me. I love you.
August 7th, 2017
Time 3:00 am
You look like you've been crying for hours. I'm afraid you’re not okay again. I know you won’t tell me. I love you
August 8th, 2017
Time 3:00 am
you tell me that you don't want to get out of bed today. You tell me that you love me and that you're gonna be okay. I should know better but I believe you because I want to. I love you.
August 9th, 2017
Time 3:00 am
You look like you’re on drugs again, but you won’t tell me that. Your face is pale and you’re always shivering. I love you.
August 10th, 2017
Time 3:00 am
I have yet to see you smile. You look at me over video chat and I know that you're fighting it, you can’t wait to congratulate me on one month of sobriety, and I can’t wait to congratulate you. In-person. Your kisses are always soft but lately, they have a chill to them. The warmth from you has disappeared, I’m worried that you want drugs again. You told me “I’ll always be here for you whether I’m physically present or not.” That makes me feel better. Maybe a party will cheer you up, I have a surprise planned for you tonight. I love you.
August 11, 2017
Time 6:00 am
You died at 1:53 am
I tried to wake you up but you don't stir. The party went silent. The pain in my chest is excruciating. I shook you and your rubber-banded bag fell to the floor. I hugged you harder as if it could bring you back. There is nothing I could do but cry. 15 minutes later I dialed 9-1-1 but I couldn’t speak, I cried so hard that no sound could even come out anymore. The sobs were so quiet they were loud. The ambulance got there, they put you on a stretcher. At first, I refused to let go of you, holding onto your hand, hugging your body with mine as if I could give you the life in me. It was so cold. D.O.A. I love you... The bed feels empty with you gone. The couch feels too big without you next to me. And the porch swing looks like a grave. I can’t go to the party house anymore. My hands feel cold without yours in them. I cried all night. The tears stopped coming out after a while, but I still sobbed. Your scent fills my nose and I cry more. I could have saved you. I'm empty without you. I should have known better. Your last words haunt me. I’m not sober anymore, I’m sorry. The note you left, I don’t think I can ever read it. I love you.
August 3rd, 2018
Time 3:00 am
I had a dream about you. You looked so happy, your wings matched your darkness. But Seeing your smile, your real one, made me feel good, so good that you are no longer only a dark spot in my memory.
August 5th, 2018
Time 3:00 am
I made your favorite, hot chocolate, and a bacon peanut butter sandwich. I wish you had a grave, but they turned you to ash and put you god knows where. Even though you aren't here, the universe still reminds me of you. Even though I know you won't be waking up this time. I love you.
August 10th, 2018
Time 3:00 am
I went to our spot today. I cried when I got home, I hurt so bad. I miss you more than anything. I love you. It's almost been a year.
August 11th, 2018
Time 3:00 am
The first anniversary of losing you. I refuse to accept that you’re gone. Just tell me you’re coming for me. Tell me you’re in some 3rd world country just hiding out like we always talked about, and you’re gonna come find me when I’m 18. I want this to all be a bad dream.
August 12th, 2018
Time 3:00 am
It's getting too hard to sleep. I slept in one of your t-shirts. It smelled just like your favorite cologne. I held it just like I would have held you. I love you. I miss you.
August 13th, 2018
Time 3:00 am
Your mom called to make sure I was okay, your parents are back in New England now. They miss you, it hurt to hear her cry. I guess she did love you in her way. I love you.
August 14th, 2018
Time 3:00 am
I'm going crazy without you. This isn’t allowed to be real. I miss you. I miss your smell. I want you back. I love you.
August 15th, 2018
Time 3:00 am
I visited our spot again yesterday. Remember what you told me? “I’ll always be here for you whether I’m physically present or not”. Those words haunt me, you spoke them the day before left me forever. I should have known. I wish I knew. Maybe then I could have saved you. I love you.
August 16th, 2018
Time 3:00 am
I can't stand being without you anymore. I love you.
August 11th, 2019
Time 3:00 am
It’s been two years. I miss you more than I ever thought was humanly possible. Please come back. I think I’m in love again. It scares me, but I know you’d like him.
August 12th, 2019
Time 3:00 am
No one gets that you weren’t the best thing in the universe, that you were an asshole sometimes, you weren’t always a good person. But you were good. You made life something more than it was and you showed me who I could be. You showed me who I am, in your own fucked up way that included you dying. And for that, I owe you.
August 3rd, 2020
Time 3:00 am
I've finally read the note you left me. I read it over and over. I’m crying so much writing this I can’t even see. Come back. I miss you. I love you.
August 5th, 2020
Time 3:00 am
Why did you have to go and do that? This all must be a fucking joke. I love you.
August 8th, 2020
Time 3:00 am
The day that marks 3 years since you left me is coming up quickly. I don’t want it to come. I don’t want it to happen. I don’t want to accept this. I miss our talks at our spot. I love you.
August 11th, 2020
Time 1:53 am
It’s been 3 years. Today is terrible. Come back. I love you.
I guess your anger is just as much a part of your story as your love. You loved me, that much everyone who knew you knew, but you had a funny way of showing it sometimes. The drugs clouded your memory, or at least you wanted me to think they did. Like the time you shot at someone who stole off of you. Your excuse was being high, but not until you knew how much it scared me. I’m not sure what you thought would happen had you shot him, but I don’t think you cared regardless. Maybe you always knew what you were doing, and you were too tired to control yourself. No matter what, a part of me will always be infatuated with you and a piece of my heart will always belong to you. Our story is one I can never forget, but as time goes on I see more flaws, I find more wrongdoings, and I learn to love you less.
Chapter 4
How have we gotten to this point? I woke up today in a great mood, but of course, Nicole couldn’t allow that. It’s been months since I spoke to her, but she’s pinned my best friend and his mother against me. She and her so-called husband say I told them I was going to turn them in. My best friend who deals drugs, and his mother who condones it and takes part. I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you, friends, with these people? Quite frankly, I don’t know, I guess I always have been. My best friend, Aaron, was the first guy I ever had a crush on. He was the only person who showed up to my 13th birthday party and he never did me wrong. He took my weed virginity, and he stuck up for me. He didn’t let kids bully me, though they sure tried. He didn’t back down, sometimes it felt like he was the only person on my side. If it weren’t for him my middle school experience would not have been nearly as mediocre as it was. At some points in life, he was all I had, and still, to this day, I can go to him with whatever and he does his best to help. Though, ever since Nicole started her bullshit and I told the police about her abuse, she has been trying to sway him to take her side. She’s good at doing that, she knows how to manipulate just about anyone. She had our entire family fooled for years, had them convinced she wasn’t a terrible person or on drugs.
I guess now is a good time to bring up Josh, the man who took my virginity, if you want to put it that nicely. By that I mean the 19-year-old who forcibly had sex with 13-year-old me, whilst I was high on pills in Victoria’s closet. Victoria was my BFF, we did everything together, mostly drugs. Sometimes random friends of friends would stay at her house, and one time we made a huge mistake. I still remember the feeling, being dragged from bed and onto the ground, through the closet doors. I can still hear how loud the sliding door shut. I remember how it felt, my clothes being ripped off of me, sloppily and just good enough for him to get to where he wanted. He clasped his hand around my throat to keep me pinned down as if I wasn’t already paralyzed by the pills he offered me. Surely I took them, I was too high to know better. I didn’t feel anything, but that was the torture of it. I knew what was happening, and I was unable to stop it. My body was motionless, but he got off on it. His evil grin and cold eyes are permanently ingrained in my brain, I’ll never forget his face because that’s all I could look at. I’ll never forget it because I’m forced to remember. Good thing I never felt it, I’m sure that would be a whole other nightmare. I’m sure you’re wondering how this relates to Nicole, but let me tell you, I told her about the invasion of my body, and she doubted me. I told her what happened and she told me I was wrong. She told me I wasn’t that high, I could have stopped it if I didn’t want it. She told me I wanted it. I the 13-year-old, of course, believed my mom, only to figure out it was sexual assault 2 years later. Nicole of course did absolutely nothing, as per usual. She could have saved me that night. I called her, I wanted to go home because I didn’t feel safe and I thought I was too high, she came and saw me, she told all the people there I was fine, even went as far as saying I was faking it. Maybe she’s the reason I got raped that night, maybe he took my silence as consent because he thought I was sober. Maybe he was rough because he thought my silence meant I liked it. Maybe I only imagined saying stop, perhaps it never came out of my mouth. Or perhaps my pleas to stop convinced him to continue. How could I know anyways? I was in a drug-fueled haze, maybe I remember wrong and I never said stop. I guess that’s the downfall of getting high, you never know what happened. Everything is foggy and the details are blurry. It’s like trying to remember a dream after you wake up, you wonder what happened and the longer you’re awake the blurrier the memory gets. The longer you’re sober, the blurrier your high adventures become. Just because I’ve been thinking about this long enough to write it down, anxiety is jolting through my veins. It starts at the back of my throat, pushing its way up from the inside out, a sting that becomes so much more. The line between what is fear and what is real is becoming blurrier by the second. It feels as if my words are stuck in my throat, stopping me from screaming, from letting my feelings out. This is my brain's way of telling me my words aren’t worth much right now, quite frankly it’s not wrong. He tore my soul to pieces as my pleas ran through his mind as “convince me” “keep going” “I like it”. I can still see his cold, hungry eyes in my dreams sometimes. Imagining his face sends shivers down my spine as I continually play what he did to me over and over again as if something could change the more I think into it. He broke me, crushed my being, my soul, and outright stole my voice. I can’t possibly continue to look at myself in disgust over this man, because it is he who should rot, not me. I’m worth more than becoming the perfect victim, I choose to be a victor. Sometimes I don't think I can do it, my motivation is wanting to be further in life than anyone who has ever hurt me, and I'm already there.
Chapter 5: The Man Who Loved Me Once
The man who loved me once, the one who broke my heart into pieces. Leo tore me to pieces, but I thought I was in love with him. It took a month in a psychiatric facility to conclude that he never loved me. I was 15 with a 21-year-old man. He convinced me it was okay along with Nicole constantly praising me for it. “Damn haha you are just like me”
February 3rd, 2018
I told him to stop, I told him no. I told him I didn't want to do this. I begged and pleaded but that meant nothing to him. He didn't stop, he didn't understand “no”, my begs and pleads for him to stop rang through his ears as “convince me”. His right hand roamed my body, It made me shiver. His left hand went between covering my mouth to shut me up, and pushing me back up against the brick wall. He kissed my lips roughly to silence me, pushing me hard against the wall. His fingers scratched into my skin, making me squirm. I couldn't move much though, the pills he put in my drink prevented me from doing that, what a lovely redo of the last man who hurt me. This one at least did not do it with people around, though it was dark, we were in a public place. He called me baby girl and told me "I am going to fuck you so good". I showered 3 times today, and no one questioned it. I did not eat anything for a few days, and no one questioned it. Maybe you did not mean to hurt me, maybe you thought I liked it. I still love you.
February 27th, 2018
He hit me today, it's not the first time. Hell, it is not even the second or third time, honestly, I have lost count. He loves me. He apologized and then we cuddled and watched a movie. He will change, I know I can fix him. He never means to hurt me. He is a good man and people do not want to try to understand. I have to cover the bruises, good thing it is winter and I can wear a hoodie every day. He makes me sad but he does not mean it. He loves me and I know it.
March 15th, 2018
Today he took me to meet his parents. I had to lie and say I was 18. I pretended I was in college. He made me. He just did not want his parents to give him shit like they always do. He said it was fine that we had an age difference. I trust him, I would do anything for him. I love him.
March 28th, 2018
Today he tried to drown me. It was my fault. I remember passing out and waking up with no clothes. I guess he put them in the dryer because they were wet. He wasn't himself when he did it, I am sure there is just something going on mentally. I can fix him. I can help him. I know he loves me. I know he can get help, I want to help him.
April 3, 2018
I saw him today, our visit was cut short because Nicole wanted me to come home. She knows about him and me, she just missed me because I have been at friends’ houses and with Leo all week. He was pretty mean today, he grabbed me by the throat and I am beginning to think that he needs more help than I can give him. My throat is sore and it is bruised on the side. I will have to wear my hair down. He loves me so much that the pain is worth it. I do not want to lose him. The way he strokes my hair and holds me, while he is apologizing after he has done something that harmed me is so sweet. I love it when he buys me flowers and sometimes he is good for a while. The pain is worth it for the love.
April 8th, 2018
He raped me. He put a glass bottle inside of me, and my vagina bled. He got me drunk, and we started making out, then he fucked me, relentlessly, roughly. He bruised me. In between my legs. My dad picked me up, it was the worst experience of my life. I still love him and I do not want to anymore. I am being punished for it because Nicole will not tell my dad she knew everything. I am being punished for being raped. I am broken. I need help.
April 24th, 2018
I spent nearly a month in a psychiatric facility, it has helped me a lot. My roommate was awesome. I had a nurse in there, a youngish, beautiful, and kind African American woman, she is the reason I am still alive. I am so grateful to have met that woman and another one of the therapists there. It has helped me so incredibly much. I hate that I am still being punished for being raped because I was not, not allowed there. I had permission. I did not do anything without my mom's permission, yet she and my dad punished me for being raped. As in it was my fault. As if I did it to myself. How was I supposed to know any better with Nicole telling me it was okay? I have grown to hate my dad, I make sure he knows it and I feel no remorse for what I say. He sucks and I wish I was just with my mom. I still love Leo, but he never loved me, except once.
I have grown so much since then. I used to think so highly of Nicole. I thought it was awesome to have a mom that helps you sneak around and break rules. I thought so highly of her and I wanted to be exactly like her. I wanted to smoke and drink and be high all of the time because I thought it was so cool. I thought it was normal at that. I just could not realize that she was no good. My dad was the only one who wanted what was best for me, and still to this day he does. He was the one who saw how poorly I was doing and made an effort towards getting me better. He did not even know half of it and from the time he found out and forward, he gave me all of the acceptance and care and love I needed. I regret ever being so mean to him. I know you are wondering what the hell I said to him, so I will make a list.
-I hate you
-You are a terrible dad
-I will never speak to you again
-You are the reason I am so messed up
-I never want to see you again, you suck and I fucking hate you, don't you dare tell me to watch my mouth, you don't get to tell me what to do because you aren't my dad anymore {then I called him by his first name}
-I do not want you in my life
I hate myself for the things I said to my dad. He is one of the kindest, most caring, and genuinely good human beings I know. He does everything he can to make sure my sisters and I can have what we want. He has a job therefore a steady income. He gets us any reasonable thing we want. I am so lucky to have a dad like him because not everyone gets a good dad, I love my dad. He and I finally have an amazing father, daughter relationship and I feel so much better. I wish I never said those hurtful awful things to him, I wish that Nicole never ingrained my brain with lies about him making him seem bad. Now my sisters are saying very similar but even meaner hurtful things to my dad. He does so well for them and they hate him because Nicole is good at brainwashing.
Dad, if you are reading this, I want you to know, it was never your fault for anything that happened. You could not have known, Nicole manipulates well. I love you and you are an awesome dad.
My mind is in a muddle. I can not seem to think straight for some reason. Nicole manipulated me so much I question my trauma. she told my dad and me that I faked being raped so I would not be in trouble. When I went to the party, she said it was real for a while, until it was no longer convenient for her to use. "My poor baby, I feel so bad seeing my daughter shower 5 times a day". Then when it was not getting her attention anymore, she said I was lying.
I wish I knew what to do with the thoughts that are flooding my brain right now. Once you become happy, and you come to be at peace with yourself, you can be okay. However, your demons stick with you forever. Once an addict, always an addict, but that does not make you a bad person. It shows how strong you are when you get sober. Your demons follow you, but you can restrain them, you can imprison them and throw them into the back of your brain. That alone makes you a survivor. Being a victim of rape and having PTSD is just the same. It is hard to suppress the memories, and it is even harder to work through them, but it is possible, I know it is because I am doing it. Your demons follow you, you have to realize that they do not own you.
Nicole is part of the reason I am mentally ill. I hate her for that. I hate her for many things. I wish her the worst. However, I am not going to let her win. I do not hate her, I hate what she did, I hate the way she groomed me into her idea of a good daughter. I hate how she manipulated me into believing my dad was no good, and he drank too much and he ignored us on the weekends for shooting/hunting. I regret not letting my dad have a relationship with me for years. She is not winning this one. I hate everything she did, but I will leave it to someone else to hate her because I am sure other people do.
I have always been in love with Leo, but as time passes by, I realize that nothing he did was good or okay. He was only ever "nice" to manipulate me. I wish I had known then what I know now. I am slowly getting over him and trying to ignore the intrusive thoughts about him. He was like a drug, and I got addicted.
My current boyfriend is amazing, and I could not have asked for someone better.
Chapter 6: This Is Today
Hypomania can be nice, I was hypomanic for like a month, keyword fucking “was”. I’d like to clear the misconception that mania means you’re happy, it doesn’t. I can’t be confrontational right now because no matter what it’s about I’m approaching it like a fight even if you’re approaching it like a discussion. It’s one hell of a fucking high and if you’ve ever done hard drugs you know that it’s usually not good the whole time you’re on a binge after a week or so. You know it’s more intense the more you do and the less you can function. Mania is such an intense thing that it makes you feel like you are on drugs when you aren’t, and as someone who used to do a lot of them, that’s scary, because it brings back so many memories, and for me, that fuels the mania more, it is just feeding the fire. Okay, so imagine like a 2-month long drug binge or drinking (alcohol) binge with the given random withdrawals and mood swings, The comedowns, and the intense parts where you think you’re on top of the world and life could not possibly get better.. Okay? Now imagine having no control over when you feel like you’re coming down when you feel high or drunk when you feel hungover when you are high or drunk at all. Imagine 24/7 constant torture of not knowing what’s next. Don’t fucking romanticize mania, don’t romanticize this. Here I am, in my bathtub, with a bottle of cheap vodka that tastes more like the smell of hand sanitizer than any alcohol at all, and I’m on 2 bars of Xanax (I was coming up on a year sober). Here I am, hot water pouring onto my trembling body in hope that it will ease my trembling, it feels like I’ve been in here for days and it’s only been hours, yet all of my tears are gone. I’ve drained myself of tears and I can’t seem to cry anymore. It's just a dull sob, heavy breathing, shaky hands, a blotchy face, and a trembling body. You think my symptoms would be numbed but I feel like they’re more lifelike now. I feel trapped within them, as if they own me, just like he owned me. I wish I could say he never did but for a while there I was stuck in his abyss. I haven’t slept in way too fucking long. Yes, I am on meds, no they are not working. I’m talking to my psychiatrist as soon as I can. Last night and these past few hours(it’s 3:48 a.m.) have been terrible, I’ve been up talking and pacing and shaking and crying all night in utter paranoia full of what I'm self-aware enough to know are only delusions, going from laughter to crying excessively to panic attacks that feel like the end of the world, to pouring my heart out to a girl I’ve been friends with for a week and telling her all of my trauma(shout out to you dude thank you) to trying to buy fucking animals(specifically a monkey) off of the Internet. Even though I only collectively have $6.00. Mania is embarrassing yourself publicly or even just within your household and not fucking remembering what you did or how you did it or why. Mania is bad life choices and excessive cleaning and exhaustion and impulsivity, for example: “wanna get drunk” yeah I’m drunk rn but sure why not. “Wanna have sex?” Yeah okay “ I don’t have a condom” that’s cool just pull out or don’t I don’t care. Mania is hurting the people you love because they can see how lost you are and how broken you are and how you can’t see that you need help. Mania is researching, stalking, fucking obsessively trying to find your abuser/rapist on the internet because you’re curious as to how he’s doing. Mania is trying to convince everyone around you that you’re fine because you want to be fine because you don’t want it to happen again until you’re so not fine you can’t avoid it anymore. Sometimes you just get stuck in fucking mania and you can’t get out. Sometimes you get hypomanic and start a book then as it progresses into mania you write more and more *cough* me *cough*.
Life has never exactly been easy, and I’ve always had difficulties concluding that nothing that’s happened is my fault, and truly it is not. However, blaming myself has always been easier than blaming everyone else. In complete honesty, Nicole ruined so much of my life and damaged my psyche. The way I view the world will never be innocent, my innocence is gone and I’m not sure I could get it back if I tried to. How much of my life would have been different had I not been an addict? What if Nicole never was abusive? What if I was never raped? What if I did fewer drugs? What if I never told my dad about Nicole? I could go on with the questions, but that probably won’t get us anywhere. It’s funny to think of who I could have become. Maybe I would be a sheltered little bitch with no sense of humor or sense of self. Maybe I would still to this day be a drug addict. The what if’s don’t matter, because they are simply that, what if’s. They don’t mean anything, but my past means everything. I don’t hold grudges against anyone for anything, I try not to hate, but I do strongly dislike Nicole. I do wish she wasn’t such a raging bitch. I wish she could just stop being a piece of shit. I wish my life wasn’t destroyed, yet I am beyond thankful for how beautifully broken I am.
I'll have such loud intrusive thoughts that they feel like voices. It's like there are two people in my head sometimes 3 or 4, constantly talking over one other, and then me trying to get them to stop long enough for me to hear myself think. I will also have snippets of words, phrases, phantom sounds, or music. I begin to hear whole words, phrases, even random sounds, and parts of songs. Sometimes I don’t even know the songs. “Just shut up, no one likes you”
“do it anyway, don’t be a pussy”
“they’ll think you’re crazy, be careful who you tell”
“secret secret secret”
“stop thinking about him”
“don’t stop thinking about it”
I’m sure the thoughts, the voices I’m hearing don’t sound all that terrible, but they are. You’re probably wondering why I let them bother me.
Just imagine constantly hearing the same things over and over and over and instead of letting the voice become a redundant muttering, it becomes more meaningful every time you hear it. They become more hurtful. They become louder with every waking breath. This form of existence is painful. The world wants me to be the same thing I want to be, but I don’t know if this is even me.
I struggle a lot with that. It makes me feel like I led two lives and honestly you’re one of the only people who heard about a lot of my “high adventures” I’ll call them, and I do apologize for telling you about me doing drugs and stuff, you were too young to be hearing about that(you aren’t too young now). However, because I am an addict I’ve made a lot of mistakes. And I did drugs to cope with my existence and how secret I had to keep anything that had to do with Nicole.
The voices in my head won’t shut up. They scream and yell, and go in circles taking turns talking, seeing who can be the loudest. My head is constantly racing. There is constantly something going on in my head. I just want it all to stop. The only things to drown them out are drugs. Maybe I will start taking benzos again, that calmed them last time.
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7-wonders · 5 years
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Gala Blues
Summary: At a political gala, you’re ridiculed and objectified by some of Duncan’s colleagues. A fight ensues between you and Duncan, continuing to a standoff that can only end in one way. 
Word Count: 2777
Author’s Note: NSFW AHEAD! The story will be placed under a cut. This is my first Duncan Shepherd fic, so let me know what you think. 
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You’re sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of champagne and talking with a freshman Congresswoman whose campaign you followed for a while, when a hand wraps around your waist.
“Come here, there’s some people I want you to meet.” Duncan whispers into your ear. You don’t even have time to be shocked when he maneuvers you away from the conversation. Shooting Alexandria a shocked look, she rolls her eyes and mouths something that looks like ‘asshole.’
“You do realize that I was talking to someone, right? Alexandria was telling me about the support her bill proposal is getting.” You frown when you look up at him and see that he’s not even paying attention to you, eyes focused on a group ahead of him.
You huff, letting him tug you along through the crowd. You didn’t even want to come to this political function that the Shepherd Foundation was co-sponsoring; you had briefs to look over, and you’d much rather be on your couch in sweatpants with a glass of wine instead of wearing an uncomfortable pair of heels and a dress that makes you look completely out of place.
“Duncan.” You hiss. He looks down at you, and the disinterest on his face has you mildly fuming.
“Not now, (Y/N).” You reach a group of (old, white) prominent male lobbyists who immediately leer at you.
“Mr. Shepherd!” One of the men greets, clasping Duncan’s hand tightly. “How’s the app development coming along?” You attempt to make yourself smaller by standing behind Duncan, trying anything to get the gazes of these random men off of you.
“We’re getting there. We had to jump through a few hoops with copyright and things like that, but we’re hoping for a launch date of later this year.”
“Are you not going to introduce us to the lovely lady next to you, Duncan?” Another man asks, his eyes raking over your barely-visible cleavage. Duncan, who apparently forgot that he had dragged you over here, grabs your hand and yanks you to his side.
“This, gentlemen,” Duncan smirks at the men. “is (Y/N), my date.” You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the way he says ‘date,’ like you haven’t been dating for almost a year.
“(Y/N).” One of the men says slowly, letting your name roll off of his tongue. In this moment, you’ve never felt sicker at the use of your name. “Now tell me, Duncan, where’d you manage to find one like this in D.C.?”
“She’s a lawyer.” Duncan says conspiratorially, causing the group to let out whistles and chuckles.
“Well, well, well! That must, uh, come in handy.” He’s talking about the Shepherd Foundation’s less-than-legal dealings, as if you had something to do with the embezzlement charges getting dropped before you even met Duncan.
“Actually, I’m one of Maryland’s top prosecutors.” You stick up for yourself, since Duncan obviously won’t. They all laugh, taking your statement as some sort of a joke.
“Y’know, I’ve had a few lawyers in my time. Tell me Duncan,” The man who tried your name out like an ill-fitting sweater says. “does your arm-candy’s spunk in the courtroom extend to the bedroom?” Your mouth falls open as the group chortles, and your face burns when Duncan slyly winks before taking a sip of his bourbon. You yank yourself out of his grasp a little rougher than necessary.
“You’ll have to excuse me, gentlemen.” You sneer, downing the rest of your champagne before walking towards the nearest exit. You don’t even look back to see Duncan’s expression, knowing from the jeers that they’re all choosing to stare at your ass and congratulate your boyfriend on his ‘find.’ The disgust at this rampant sexism sends goosebumps up and down your spine, and you fight the hot tears that attempt to spill the entire way to the outdoor patio.
The car ride through downtown D.C. is silent for a while, with you sitting as far away from Duncan as possible.
“Can we talk?” He finally speaks, and you’re momentarily pleased that he’s taking the initiative to apologize.
“You have the floor.” You say quietly, still looking out the window at the lights passing by.
“What the hell was that that you pulled back at the gala?” It takes a moment for your brain to process his question, having expected him to say how sorry he was. You don’t have time to even speak before he’s talking again. “I bring you to meet my colleagues, some of the most influential men in this city, and you decide that’s the proper time to get snarky with me?”
“Excuse me?” You turn your head slowly, not wanting to say something you’ll regret. “Oh, did I embarrass you?”
He nods as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you know what they said to me after you ripped away and glared at them?”
“Probably nothing because they were too busy staring at my ass.” You fire back, taking pride in how his jaw clenches. “Or were they congratulating you on landing a fine date for tonight’s event, just another in a long list of Duncan Shepherd’s call girls?”
You know it’s a low blow, since he’s been entirely committed to you since you first began dating, but his buddies don’t seem to know that he’s in a long-term relationship.
“But you were my date tonight! I brought you with me!” He argues.
“It’s not about that!” You quickly lower your voice, noticing Duncan’s driver glimpsing in the rearview mirror. “How many fucking times have you seen those jerks over the past year? And this is the first time you’re deciding to mention me, when you can finally show me off to them as some sort of symbol to your success?”
“You’re more than that to me, you know that.”
“But to everybody else, I’m just a notch in your belt?” The car rolls to a stop in front of your apartment, and you’re out before Duncan can even reach for you. You’re thankful that you shed your heels in the car, allowing you up the steps quicker than it would have been had you been teetering on those shoes. You don’t look behind you, furiously smashing the button on the elevator in an attempt to get it closed, but when Duncan’s foot stops the doors from closing, you know you’re screwed.
“You don’t just leave like that.” He hisses, backing you against the wall. You briefly notice that he still took the time to grab your shoes and bag, which would make you grateful if you weren’t so pissed at him.
“You don’t get to order me around like that.” You’re in his face, and you can smell the intoxicating scent of liquor and his cologne lingering on him.
“I’m sorry for calling you a date. That was wrong, and next time I’ll refer to you as my girlfriend.” He holds his arms out, as if this is some grand compromise that he’s so kind to offer you. You scoff, leaning your head back against the wall.
“You’re so fucking dense, Duncan.” The doors ding for your floor, and you shove past him to get out.
“What, then? What else could I have possibly done wrong for you to be this pissed at me?” He yells, making you really hope that the neighbors are all out. You shake your head in disbelief, quickly unlocking the door so you don’t make a scene in the middle of the hallway. The door slams behind him and you whip around to look at him.
“Hey, what is wrong with you?” He grabs your chin in his hand, forcing you to make eye contact.
“I’m not your little trophy wife, Duncan!” The air is thick with tension as you both take deep, shuddering breaths.
“What?” Duncan asks quietly.
“I am not some side piece you get to parade around for the good ol’ boys to ogle at and congratulate you for. If you wanted one of those, you should have fucked one of the Republican senators’ daughters your mom always tried to set you up with!” You scream, snatching Duncan’s hand so he no longer has your face in his control. Duncan’s face goes white with shock, and you smirk at leaving the cocky man speechless.
You try to move past him to get to the door, determined to go somewhere that’s not here, when Duncan grips both of your arms. You let out a yell of surprise and attempt to wiggle out of his grasp.
“Let me go!” You start slapping at his chest, trying to get him to release you, but he just pulls you tighter. You glare at him, trying to get him to react. You’re looking for a fight right now, and the fact that he won’t give in is just adding to your anger. “Do something, huh?”
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, studying you for a moment, before his hand tangles into your hair.
“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” He moans out, using the hand in your hair to pull you towards him in a searing kiss. Your hands still as you let out a noise of shock, not sure what to make of the turn this fight has taken. You find yourself eagerly kissing back, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling Duncan closer to you.
He grabs at your knee, ripping a hole in your pantyhose as he yanks your leg around his hip. You don’t even make it to the bedroom, Duncan settling you against the arm of the couch. You bite at his bottom lip roughly, making him groan in a mix of pleasure and pain. His hands fumble with the zipper on your dress, making you yelp when a strand of hair gets caught in the zipper.
You shed Duncan of his jacket and make quick work of unbuttoning the shirt underneath while he throws your bra across the room. When he reaches your legs, he chooses to just rip the pantyhose off of you, causing you to wince at the snap they make against your body.
“God dammit Duncan, why’d you have to ruin them?” Your sentence ends in a whine when he presses his clothed erection against your core, back arching against the couch.
“I’ll buy you more. I’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe if that’s what it takes.” You know he doesn’t just mean to replace the destroyed article of clothing. He’s managed to shed his trousers now, not wasting any time before he presses into you.
The rhythm is hard and fast, Duncan choosing to take his anger out on you through sex. Your teeth clack against his almost painfully as you try to find some sort of dominance in this game, moaning loudly when he adjusts you so he can hit deeper.
“God, I really hate you right now!” You groan out, your nails raking along his back as his stubble creates a sensual burn on your neck.
“Your mouth says one thing but your body says another.” He quips with a cheeky smile, reaching between you to reach your clit. You yank at his hair, causing him to let out a low moan while you grin in triumph.
Duncan’s fucking into you so hard that the couch is starting to move with each thrust, the only resistance being the rug underneath it. Even with the rough actions from both of you, you want more, need more, so you grab his hand and move it to your throat. He smirks at you, but obliges nevertheless, laying pressure on your throat he he kisses you again.
“You’re so perfect, I love you so much.” He mutters against your mouth when you clench around him. You wrap both legs around him, pulling him closer in an attempt to match his thrusts. Duncan’s hands fall to your waist as his thrusts lose their rhythm the closer he gets. Even though this is heated, hateful sex, he still makes sure you finish first. When you yell out his name, clenching almost painfully around him, he moans against your neck as he stills.
You’re both breathing heavily, chests heaving from the exertion, when Duncan slides you both to the floor before rolling off of you. When he goes to stroke your face he stops abruptly.
“Why are you crying?” He asks softly.
“I’m not?” You say, shocked when Duncan wipes away tears you didn’t know were falling.
“Shit, was the choking too much? Did I hurt you?” He pulls you into his arms, and you’re so spent that you let him.
“No, I’m just...I’m mad at you and I’m sad and I don’t even know why I started crying.” You ramble, choking up even more. “This’ll be a good story to tell your friends, that you fucked your date so good that she started crying.” You laugh shakily, trying anything to get the attention off of the waterworks you’re suddenly displaying. Duncan’s breath hitches as he looks at you.
“Shit.” He says, the figurative light bulb clicking on. “I don’t-I would never about our personal life to those guys, I want you to know that.”
“Duncan, you stood with them laughing as they belittled me and made me out to be some sort of whore.” He blanches, remembering the encounter.
“Oh fuck, oh my God, I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” There’s no stopping the tears now as he holds you to his chest, whispering his apologies in your ear.
“I’m a good lawyer.” You mutter to yourself, but Duncan hears anyways.
“You’re such a good lawyer, baby. They’re just stupid guys who didn’t know that the embezzlement charges were dropped a while ago.”
“I’ve-I’ve worked so hard all through college and law school to be taken seriously as a woman in this field, and I still get reduced to nothing more than the person standing next to Duncan Shepherd.” You’ve talked numerous times about your struggles with the rampant sexism you face in the working world. Duncan knows that he’s extremely privileged to be handed the keys to his own empire without having to lift a finger, while you had to work your ass off to even pay for school.
“You’re so much more than that, do you hear me? You are not just my girlfriend. That title is so far down the list of amazing things you are, it’s probably just a footnote on your long list of accomplishments.”
“Why did you let them talk to me like that?” You whimper, watching Duncan’s heart break as he stares at you.
“I’m so, so sorry baby. I promise that I’m gonna make this up to you.” He wraps you in a blanket that he grabs from the couch when he notices that you’re shivering. Standing up with you in his arms, he sets you down on the bed before going to grab a washcloth from the bathroom.
“I’m gonna make sure that their money doesn’t touch our app, we have funding from lots of other places. I’m replacing whatever it is I tore off of you out there-” You chuckle, wincing slightly when Duncan starts cleaning you with the cool cloth.
“You don’t have to, it was ju-” He cuts you off with a stern look.
“I will. And then we’re going to actually go out and celebrate when you win your trial next week. I’m not just going to send you expensive gifts and apologize that I’m working late.” The washcloth goes into the hamper as Duncan slides into bed next to you. “I’m going to make more of an effort to be the partner you deserve, and I’ll put the company’s money into that bill you were talking about with your friend.”
“I didn’t think you even knew what I was talking about.” You say.
“I ignored you, which was terrible of me. And every time I have to introduce you to people, you’ll be ‘(Y/N) (Y/L/N), the best lawyer I’ve ever met.’”
“And your girlfriend?” You tease, Duncan nodding and kissing you.
“And my girlfriend.” He laces his fingers with yours. “And hopefully then you’ll start to consider forgiving me?” You smile slightly, shaking your head.
“I love you, Dunc.”
“I love you too, so much. I really don’t deserve you.”
“I mean…” You trail off, laughing when Duncan affectionately tickles you before pulling you towards him so you can sleep. Although the living room looks like a minor warzone and there’s mascara tracked down your face, you’re able to sleep peacefully with Duncan by your side.
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hey-hamlet · 5 years
Text
BNHA AU Ideas : The villain’s little hero
Also on AO3! 
TL;DR:  All Might, Japan's number 1 villain has a successor. The problem? His successor is a hero hopeful. All Might will stop at nothing to make sure his kid gets to live his dream.
au where all might is a villain raising izuku to be a hero!
quirkless izuku, his backstory is mostly the same
all might decided that hero work had too much red tape. if he was going to take down afo, he needed the freedom to do whatever he had to and he wasnt getting that working within the law
so hes a,,, viilllaaaiinnn?? like. stain. but less murdery, would also save civilians if they were in danger
he has 0 qualms about crippling fake heroes but hes not a fan of murder
nighteye is still his sidekick, he doesnt use his quirk on allmight bc all might h a t e s it
hes kinda on board with "the future is only set in stone because you've seen it now" so he wants the freedom to break fate. but its very useful to get info, so nighteye just uses it on other people
hero to the people villain to literally everyone else
allmights villain costume is reallll similar to his hero costume. just less eye bleeding
he has longer grey hair too.
all mights bronze age costume is basically his villain costume thanks for listening
david shield is still in this story
david agrees w all might and like,,, sneaks him stuff on the downlow
all might told him ab. his quirk because who on earth is gonna believe that one america man about japans worst supervillain?
also melissa is a Soft Young Woman and she is all mights favourite person on this fucking planet until he meets izuku
all might went to ua, only defected after completing his hero training because he wanted to be trained by the people he was going to screw over
izuku has always kinda been a big fan of all might. not openly because hes legally a villain and very much paints himself as one, but his quirk is one of the most amazing things izuku has ever seen
when he looks closer, all might has never let a civilian get hurt once hes been on scene. hes taken hits to protect housing, hes pulled heroes from the line of fire
izuku watches his sports festivals and wonders why? why did all might, the man who happily told the world he'd stop at nothing to keep them safe, suddenly flip sides like that for no reason?
izuku doesnt buy it
izuku's big yellow backpack is a big red one in this universe, hes had it so long its gone pink but he still loves it
the sludge villain
all might saves him and izuku is crying. allmight thinks its because hes scared but izuku just turns to him with this big weepy eye smile and gives him the most genuine thanks he thinks hes ever been given
(its honestly the shock of that that makes him deflate into small might, which has izuku scrambling to find tissues and called an ambulance before he thinks better of calling emergency services for All Might)
izuku is like "Im SO SORRY SIR ARE YOU oK"
and all might is like ",,, b  oy"
izuku softly asking
"can,, can i still be someone with out a quirk? can i still make a difference?"
all might doesnt get the chance to anser because there is a massive explosion in the distance
its bakugo!! hes dying
the sludge villain got away bc izuku and all might were chatting a little
izuku hears it and he feels this terrible realization, because its probably not bakugo? but its definitely bakugo because izuku's life is falling to pieces
he sprints towards him and katsuki will n e v e r admit it but he feels hope in that moment because some one is trying to help. even if its just izuku, he wasnt totally left for dead
all might sees this tiny, nervous, quirkless kid run straight up to a villain that almost killed him seconds before to save someone what looks like they'd rather die
and he thinks
"no one deserves one for all more than him"
and allmight, the most wanted villain in japan, maybe the world, jumps in
the heroes look at him and they are scared. if they couldnt take the sludge villain, what is all might going to do to them? but the scariest man in japan, the person parents tell their kids about to stop them from going out at night, blows the sludge villain to tiny pieces and carefully, gently, places the two boys by the heroes
before he vanishes before they can call for backup or even ask why
izuku gets yelled at by the heroes because the heroes are scared and angry they couldnt stop either of the villains and izuku is so overwhelmed that hes crying and he can hardly breathe
bakugo doesnt even yell at him because hes so dazed about everything that happened and he cant make himself yell at this sobbing kid that used to be his friend
(bakugo is holding izukus hand like hes going to crush it but its the only thing keeping izuku present)
izuku is walking home and hes still hicuping and crying because he almost died and the heroes hate him and he feels a hand on his shoulder, and a soft :"its ok now my boy"
he knows its all might but he cant help but hide his face in his shirt and sob
all might gets down so he can look izuku in the eye
"you asked me if you could be someone with out a quirk and i didnt get the chance to answer. my answer? you already are someone. you are someone that inspired me, a villain, to save the day. you are going to be amazing"
and looks him dead in the eye "you'll do amazing things, even with out a quirk. but, you of all people deserve one, and no matter what you chose to do with it, it can be yours. hero, villain or someone in between"
izuku looks at this villain
this painfully thin villain, who just saved his life and who has unimaginable strength
and he throws his arms around his waist and sobs
inko isnt a great mum in this au and she likes to basically pretend izuku doesnt exist
izuku trains a lot and has to make his own food bc his mum just ignores him
he sneaks out at night to clear trash and sneaks back in before dawn to clean the sand from his hair
he smells like saltwater and rust, and he hasnt slept more than 4 hours a night in weeks and katsuki is worried
all might sees him crumbling with a smile stuck on his face and he wants to stop him from self-destructing, but the kid will never learn his lesson until he feels his body give up under what hes doing to it. if all might steps in he'll do it again and again until no one stops him and hes never learnt his limit.
so he waits and he watches while he pretends he cant see the bags under his eyes and pretends that everytime izuku sways on his feet he doesnt feel a jolt of deep panic
did he do this? if he the reason izuku looks like hes falling apart before his eyes?
the kid passes the fuck out and all might tells him off in a soft dad way and izuku cries bc why does this villain care more than his mum does
and all might catches the end of that little mumble, and feels terrible so he pretends he didnt hear and takes him for lunch
they go to a cafe and all might buys izuku the cutest slice of cake and a big ass bowl of katsudon and some fancy fucking tea and covers the kids eyes every time he tries to look at the prices
izuku looks at all might and asks
"are you buying me katsudon with crime money"
and all might looks sheepish and izuku giggles like an idiot and says "dont tell me ill feel bad!!!"
all might grins bc this kid is honestly the only reason he hasnt stabbed a pro hero in a few months bc hes so fucking sweet
he has to carry izuku half the way home bc the kid could barely lift his chopsticks and almost fell asleep in the booth after he finished eating
and allmight, skinny and kinda scary is giving his 15 year old a piggy back and someone says "you're such a good dad!" and he almost coughs up his last lung
izuku mumbles sleepily and hes has the biggest warm and fuzzy feeling and hes going to yell bc hes All Might the No. 1 Villain and this fucking kid is drooling on his sweater but he would die for him
some random stranger on the street commenting on how it was rly fortunate that izuku inherited his adorable smile from his father
all might, abt to burst into tears: whack
allmight is easily flustered even when hes killed a man
he comes home and inko isnt there so he has to like, wake up izuku to get him to open the door and he feels bad bc izuku is a Sleepy Man
izuku mumbles that he cant ever tell if shes at home or not because nothing changes and all might feels a wave of "wait my son isnt being parented enough"
so he makes izuku a cup of tea and tucks him into bed after he has a shower because izuku is His Son Now Inko
hes like
sitting in the living room reading the paper and he hears inko's car and hes like ",,, fuck it im walking out the front door im no coward"
she doesnt even notice and hes going to scream because does she have a brain
inko, spaced out, tired and terrible: oh is the tall man here for izuku :))) thats great :)))
all might is screaming bc"" do you get let weird men into see your tiny son>???? what the fuck???
hes so small inko??? and you?? let random men in?????
all might would yeet her into the sun if he could but his boy needs an actual family member to make going to ua easier
inko is kinda mentally ill. she is depressed and often forgets she has izuku. like shes not always being terrible she just sometimes forget to do basic things
one time she locked izuku out of the house for 10 hours and he had to sleep next to the front door
one month she didnt buy any food so by the end of it he was starving and out of his own money and there was n o t h i n g in the house, but inko would go out to eat every night and lunch and not take her son
allmight is upset bc izuku didnt tell him but izuku is embarrassed. embarrassed that he was forgotten by his own mum, that he couldnt do anything to help her or himself and honestly mad he was so hungry all might noticed bc he didnt want to bug him
it was getting to the point that katsuki actually slipped some change into his bag with a candy bar
436 notes · View notes
thegayfromrulid · 4 years
Note
Frkm 1 allll the way to 99. Also, the next SAO game eugeo lives as a sword and not die (thank GOD)
@2. chocolate bars or lollipops?
Chocolate bars- I will not eat lollipops. 
3. bubblegum or cotton candy?
Cotton candy! I actually get super bad headaches from bubblegum.
4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?
Probably lonely genius...
5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?
Soda bottles!! I feel so fancy!! And old-timey.
6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?
I guess tomboy even though I’m a boy??
7. earbuds or headphones?
Aren’t these the same thing? I think I prefer over-ear headphones, but I don’t really like either. 
8. movies or tv shows?
Depends on the genre I guess. But as a main rule, live action- movies, animated- TV shows.
9. favorite smell in the summer?
Potato salad.
10. game you were best at in p.e.?
Frankly, I wasn’t good, but I was really good at pissing all the jocks off-
11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?
I make myself these homemade egg mcmuffins. I enjoy them a lot. I am very picky about breakfast.
12. name of your favorite playlist?
I only have one and it’s very generic: The Gay From Rulid’s Playlist. Yes it’s on Spotify. Yes, it’s 99% anime openings and endings and maybe Bet On It from HSM2. Be ashamed of me. Go on.
13. lanyard or key ring?
Lanyard! Mine is a BNHA one I bought from an artist at Nekocon!
14. favorite non-chocolate candy?
Either Sweet Tarts or Nerds. 
16. most comfortable position to sit in?
I usually have one leg tucked up under me and the other stretched out.
17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?
A black and white pair of Skechers. They look like shit. They almost never are replaced by another shoe. Not even in the gross muggy heat.
18. ideal weather?
When it’s just warm enough to wear a t-shirt and sit in the sunshine, but cool enough that I’m not hot, and a little breeze is going. I think of this weather quite often. 
19. sleeping position?
On my belly kinda spread out like a shounen protagonist.
21. obsession from childhood?
J.R.R. Tolkien. Have always been obsessed with him and his works. 
22. role model?
Redundant, but Tolkien again. Linguist and writer. Living my dream. 
23. strange habits?
I unplug things like microwaves, lamps, and TVs when I am done using them. Very little remains plugged in at my place. The modem, the fridge, and the clock. That is it.
24. favorite crystal?
Amethyst. It’s my sister’s middle name. And I especially like the purple ones.
25. first song you remember hearing?
Blue by Eiffel 65. I don’t know why that song sticks out so much in my memory but it’s nostalgic for me. Tiny AJ hyperfixated on this song before anything else ya’ll. 
26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?
Curl up in the sun on a blanket and nap. 
27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?
Hot cocoa blanket cuddles. 
28. five songs to describe you?
Uhhhh...I’m not very musically literate. Let’s go with Born This Way (the first person I came out to sent me that song so it feels special!), I’m Free to Be Me by Jamie Grace, Praying by Kesha, Shake It Off by Taylor Swift ( @delicateeuphorias​ would you believe it xD), and right now thinking about someone dear to me who’s been gone See You Again is stuck in my brain.
30. places that you find sacred?
Arboretums or big botanical gardens where I can get lost in the plants for a moment and take in how pretty they all are. And old monuments/big things people of the past built. A lot of things were built by people with no rights/freedom and I think about them and how despite the fact that they had nothing, they made such a lasting impact on our world. 
31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?
*slips on my Owari no Seraph cosplay* I will kick ass in this sweet ass cape-
33. most used phrase in your phone?
My phone seems to think it’s “Kirito’s ass” and I want it to not think that.
34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?
O-O-O-O’REILLYYYYYYYYYY’S...Autooo PARTS.
35. average time you fall asleep?
I’m an insomniac it could be 10 pm it could be 3 am who knows I sleep for an hour I’m up again...
36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?
Fucking CAN I HAS CHEEZBURGR cats. 
37. suitcase or duffel bag?
This all boils down to how much I’m packing. Going for a sleepover? Duffel. Going to con? My giant suitcase with room for all the bells and whistles of cosplay.
38. lemonade or tea?
Tea!
39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?
Oh cruel I looooove lemon. The pie!
40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?
In high school here- so, aside from me being the resident weirdo (I DID come to school dressed as the TARDIS), my senior class decided to squirt hundreds of bottles of chocolate syrup on the sidewalks. We were an open campus so it’s all in front of our classroom doors- we had no hallways. And then they. They fucking EGGED ALL THE DOORS. The whole campus smelled like...ick.
41. last person you texted?
My father and mother in a group text to cry about customers treating me poorly. 
42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?
I prefer the jacket pockets because I still haven’t found a way to get men’s pants under the radar of my ever-watchful parents and women’s jeans pockets are SHITTY. Women gotta boycott this shit it is UNACCEPTABLE-
44. favorite scent for soap?
Peppermint...peppermint ^-^ I like to smell like...mint.
45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?
Fantasy!
46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?
Recently I was reminded I live alone and my new favorite sleeping outfit...is...just some boxer shorts. Suck it dysphoria. Manly nightwear.
47. favorite type of cheese?
Pepper jack, Swiss, or ricotta. 
48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?
Strawberry :3
50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?
I’m gonna sound so gay but when @disasterbikirito​ started laughing about a certain GIF and his laugh was so infectious I couldn’t help but laugh too. 
51. current stresses?
Are you shitting me it’s everything. Every. Single. Thing. I cannot breathe. I am having meltdowns. Someone fucking save me I cannot deal with COVID well.
52. favorite font?
Garamond for writing in my free time, Doulous SIL for all the linguistics IPA symbols my greedy heart desires. 
53. what is the current state of your hands?
Smooth but my fingertips have been gnawed on. I am stressed, okay?
54. what did you learn from your first job?
Gosh, lots of things. But the most important takeaway is that a good boss will genuinely care about you. I miss that man. He was so wonderful and so caring and taught me so much about theater. Technical things and artistic things and historical things. Sometimes I wish I could have made a career out of working under him. 
55. favorite fairy tale?
Beauty and the Beast (AH...AH...I SEE YOU ROLLING YOUR EYES BECAUSE I’M TRANS. I KNOW. I *KNOW*.)
56. favorite tradition?
It’s a family tradition kinda unique to my household. Each year, we draw a name from a hat, and that name comes with a lot of words that describe us and what we liked over that year. We then each take a $20 bill and we go to a little hobby shop with cheap things in it and use that $20 bill to fill a Christmas stocking. We then hang them back up and empty the stocking full of candies and random silly things and have a good laugh and guess who filled whose stocking. 
57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?
The first one is coming to terms with knowing my dad has a severe illness. It really shook my family up, and it’s terrifying us right now with everything going on, but after a while, I learned that he was smiling, so I could smile, too.
The second one is my mother coming back from her tour in the Middle East on top of the murder of my godmother. Two very stressful things happened at once. My mother got very violent from her PTSD and her best friend died in a horrible way. It was an adjustment for everyone, and it kind of ripped my family to pieces. I can say, though, that my parents are still married and are getting better, and my sister and I are coming back to the family to be more open and healthy.
The third, and maybe some of my followers are aware, was getting rid of my ex-fiance. He was a man who sexually assaulted me repeatedly and I won’t go into details beyond that. It took me 5 years to get rid of him and accept what happened, but I am a much happier person now and while I work through the trauma that caused me, I have the most wonderful partner by my side and if you had told me back then I’d find someone as kind and patient and loving as him, I would have laughed and thought you were insane. 
59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?
Probably what I put on all my fanfic updates: “I know. I’m an asshole.”
60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?
Some kind of shoujo romance but it’s bi also I want a sword.
61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?
There was nothing more smartass than Alice Synthesis 30 in SAO 18 asking a reporter to open up his head and prove he was human I’m sorry like OOF-
63. five songs that would play in your club?
Get in losers, we’re playing Steppin’ Out by FLOW, Elle me dit by Mika, Blue by Eiffel 65, ADAMAS by LiSA, and Touch Off by UVERworld.
64. favorite website from your childhood?
I was on Webkinz more than I want to admit. 
65. any permanent scars?
Yup. I have one on my toe where I split the skin in half. I tripped. I have three surgical scars from when I had my appendix removed. And...the mystery scar. I was supposedly born with a scar it’s at the part where my foot meets my leg on my left side and you can see how it’s stretched over the years if you run your finger over it. The joke is that the doctor taking out my mom’s appendix scratched me in the womb. 
67. good luck charms?
Not really a charm but I do have a little Kirito keychain I carry everywhere I go that I fiddle with when I’m nervous.
68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?
Artificial bubblegum. Disgustiiiing.
70. left or right handed?
I am right-handed.
71. least favorite pattern?
Zig-zags. 
72. worst subject?
History...I am ashamed. It’s interesting, I just suck at it.
73. favorite weird flavor combo?
Gingerbread and marshmallow. I am a bit picky about mixing foods and flavors, so this was the weirdest I could think up. 
74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?
Can you hear that? It’s my hysterical laughter. 12 on a scale of 10. I get up there pretty frequently. Thank you, chronic crippling pain. 
75. when did you lose your first tooth?
I...I don’t remember...I don’t even remember...I think I had to be like what...kindergarten? 
76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?
THIS IS CRUEL I LOVE ALL POTATOS I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH-Au gratin.
77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?
Aloe!
78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?
Coffee from a gas station. Mark my words...I will never get grocery store sushi. Ever. Again. My stomach has not forgotten. What a mistake. That was. 
79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?
So, my driver’s license hasn’t had an updated photo since I was 15 and just had a learner’s so I look like I want to murder a man but my school ID I had just run about a mile in the cold because the bus wasn’t running that day and my face is red and I look like I’m crying...probably the school ID...
80. earth tones or jewel tones?
Jewel tones~~
81. fireflies or lightning bugs?
I am from the South and we call ‘em lightnin’ bugs.
82. pc or console?
Errrrr console. I’m not a gamer by any means but there’s way fewer things to press on a console controller. 
84. podcasts or talk radio?
Neither...what...no...neither...they will put me to sleep...I will be out in seconds...the most dangerous things...people talking...and then I’m out...
84. barbie or polly pocket?
Barbie, she’s a LOT easier to dress. Those rubber clothes. SMH.
86. cookies or cupcakes?
Cookies but they gotta be the soft ones.
87. your greatest fear?
Being swallowed in the ocean. By a fish or a whale. I don��t play. Church kid don’t play with big things in the ocean with big mouths.
88. your greatest wish?
To make enough of a difference in someone’s life that they learn to love themself.
89. who would you put before everyone else?
Such a selfish thought...gosh...the mere thought of prioritizing someone troubles me. 
90. luckiest mistake?
Telling a cute guy sending me dog pictures was an excellent flirting technique as he sent me pictures of his puppy. I immediately thought “oh god I’ve fucked up bad” and at present we’re kinda head over heels for one another so maybe just be stupidly blunt once and a while you might find true love. 
91. boxes or bags?
Boxes. My cat didn’t force me to say that. Not at all. Sock, buddy, off the keyboard-
92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?
Sunlight. I like the sun. The sun is my friend. It is warm and would never betray me.
93. nicknames?
Sister calls me “spoony” when she’s being ridiculous. No, I don’t know what that means. Mama calls me “cakes.” I had friends who called me “Deku” because I’m a crybaby. Had a few people DM me and straight up call me “Eugeo” or “Eug.” AJ is technically a nickname. 
94. favorite season?
Springtime!!!!! It’s...HERE!
95. favorite app on your phone?
I use like three apps...so Discord.
96. desktop background?
It’s. It’s Kirito and Eugeo. What did you expect.
97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?
Mama’s, dad’s, mine, and my parents’ house number. And does the emergency 911 count (pahahaha). 
(I answered the others in delicateeuphoria’s ask!)
4 notes · View notes
awa--awa · 3 years
Text
9am Hike
I thought i’d go for a hike today
somewhere around the Sierra Forest.
There’s a trail somewhere around there. I’ve seen people post photos of it online. I’ve never actually been, never dared to.
There’s also a peaceful lake, named the Sierra Lake.
There’s supposed to be a nice bench where the ducks are fed by fellow bench sitters. Many joggers and dog walkers go through Sierra Forest. I never jog and I don’t have a dog, but i’d reckon that any forest is welcome to anybody.
I woke up at 8, quite a rare occurrence that is
so I thought; today is the day i finally go on that hike. I would be there by 9
after a nice 30 minute walk.
I packed my hiking bag with all my favorite things
My camera, my journal, a copy of Langston Hughes.
I also packed my purple hoodie in case it got cold. I almost forgot to bring my favorite pair of sunglasses, but I grabbed it before leaving.
I also packed my skateboard on the hiking bag’s elastic holders.
I just hoped that my bag of candy did not get crushed
Ironically, that would ruin the trip the Sierra Forest. 
I had my favorite breakfast: Bacon, egg and cheese sandwich
a cappuccino and a cigarette to start a wonderful day.
I left, leaving the heater at 5, all the nights on, and my keys on the table.
I thought i’d take a detour by the Sierra Park where the pigeons would gather
Luckily I brought some bread and I tossed a couple pieces to them as they surrounded me. They are good company, especially in the morning.
the pigeons wandered to a different bench sitter, and I opened up my Langston Hughes to a random page. 
“Hold fast to dreams, For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird, That cannot fly.”
I nearly cried. His words always struck at a core. I really wanted to see the ducks, so I only read that passage and continued towards Sierra Forest.
The trees in this season look like skeletons
no leaves to call flesh, and no color but grey
still, they felt alive. especially on such weather as today.
9am is usually not as windy here. In fact it was sunny, 6 degrees or so
no wind.
it was a special day. It always was a special day when the air feels as fresh as it does in spring.
One could walk in shorts in this weather but it is much more cozy with a coat.
One man did walk past me, and he wore shorts. I thought to myself
you are mad, sir. in this weather, any second the cold wind could come
and the 9am special feeling turns into more of a 4pm sunset sadness.
The weather held up during my walk, thankfully.
I saw a yellow light blinking in the distance.
The light came from a van under the Sierra Tunnel.
Joggers and dog walkers passed by, peaking at the commotion.
I could not see but the men and women wore uniforms
neon.
I got closer and noticed an old man on the ground. the uniforms surrounded him, and beside him a middle aged woman spoke on the phone. She didn’t seem to know him, or so I would imagine because she was quite calm.
The old man on the ground looked my grandfather, except taller and my grandfather never wore baseball caps. He enjoyed showing his greying hair, even when it began to fall out.
The middle aged woman looked like my mother, only darker and taller. Her voice of concern as she spoke on the phone reminded me of the time my mom received a call explaining that her estranged father was taken the hospital.
It was the same voice: concerned about the old man on the ground, but concerned not to extent of tears, as one would have for a stranger seemingly fallen ill.
The people behind me joined me in eavesdropping. How does one not look?
A man is on the ground and first responders are there, but everyone seems to be planning what to do next.
I would imagine it to be difficult
to be the one person or people who can help, but being absolutely useless.
Whether they were parametics or not, the question did not come to mind.
the yellow light was still on and the uniforms were still on the phone,
and the old man who resembled my grandfather, lay still on the ground
possibly counting his final moments and dreaming of his loved ones
and all the memories that he is not ready to say goodbye to.
I only made it to about 10 meters passed the man before I burst into tears.
who was he? I thought. Was he going to die? Will one of his friends or family members make it in time to see him. Was he on the floor because of the virus? or was he just old? and which is worse? 
I wanted to help
but everyone who could help was already there
my job was to simply hope
hope, for a stranger to get back up on their feet and begin walking, smiling, laughing, eating.
I cried the whole way through Sierra Park and when I reached Sierra Forest, my cries were more like yells. 
And I wanted to yell as loud as possible, but I know someone would come searching to help.
So instead i kept the crying to a medium level and only the skeleton trees would hear me.
I found the bench and sat on it. There were no ducks there yet, but the lake was indeed as beautiful as it seemed on the photos. 
By then i stopped crying and I was silently looking at a blank page on my journal. Today i really don’t have anything to say, it seems.
two ducks, glowing with their slightly green necks waddled into the lake.
That made me happy.
I tossed some pieces of bread to them and they rushed to the pieces.
They are fiercely competitive, but all in all harmless if you give them each an equal amount.
I wish I could speak to them, and I wish they could speak to me.
I took out my bag of candy and took one piece and swallowed it.
It was tasteless and I could feel nothing from it, but that is why I brought these.
I must have lost my sense of taste and smell sometime in the last month.
Many have asked me when I knew that i lost that ability and I always say the same thing.
It was a friday and I went to the museum.
Upon looking at the large canvas in the main hall, I saw much color, and much shape
but I felt absolutely nothing.
That was when I knew.
I swallowed another piece of candy and threw two more pieces of bread to the ducks, before throwing an entire slice.
I closed my journal and opened up my Langston Hughes.
“Life is for the living. Death is for the dead. Let life be like music. And death a note unsaid.”
I didn’t cry this time, but I closed my eyes and I could feel my head getting lighter.
With my eyes still closed I grabbed another piece of candy and I was about to swallow it, until I heard a sudden yell coming from somewhere in the forest.
FUCK! A very loud yell it was.
I turned around but saw nothing but a hint of a metallic structure hidden behind the array of branches in the forest. I recognized the structure. I definitely did.
I walked towards the yell and then I heard it again.
FUCK! GOD DAMMIT!
It was a young boy’s voice, I was certain.
I rushed towards the voice and fortunately he was not in any danger, but he was crying at the bottom of the deep end of an empty pool. A bowl is what its called.
In the shallow end of the bowl, I saw a snapped skateboard and a single kneepad.
You probably leaned too far back didn’t you, kid?
He seemed angry. Didn’t say anything and just looked down sniffling.
I walked into the bowl and handed him my board.
Here you go, I said. Try it again. This time, don’t lean back, but forward, keeping your hands slightly opened so you can maintain balance.
He looked at me with an angry face. 
Here, you can take my board.
I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, he said.
Fair enough, kid, I said walking towards the 3 stair.
Wait, is that a limited edition Aerohawk? from Tony Devs? 
He wasn’t angry anymore.
Yeah, it is, I said. Do you want to try it?
He took the board, and he seemed like he had just found treasure.
Awesome, hahah, He said.
He went to the top of the deep side of the bowl and prepared to drop in.
He took one step down and skated through to the end of the bowl. He cheered and cheered, until a rock stopped him and threw him forward.
He yelled in the pain, this time truly loud. His wrist was broken.
We walked quickly out of Sierra Forest and the boy continued to cry. 
It’s gonna be alright, dude. There’s a hospital close by. Do you know your mom or dad’s number?, I asked.
No, I don’t, he said.
Well that’s not much help is it? do you know any way of contacting them?, I asked.
Not really, I just skate home usually. it’s about 20 minutes. He said sniffling.
Alright then we gotta get to the hospital and maybe they can help there, I said.
What’s that in your pocket? he asked pointing at my bag of candy.
Nothing, i said quickly. those aren’t for kids.
We reached a clinic just outside Sierra Park in 5 minutes.
I saw, from a distance, the old man still on the floor surrounded by the paramedics.
I waited in the waiting area and after a while, a doctor came out with the kid and he had a cast on his wrist. He didn’t seem in pain anymore.
We’re gonna call your mom now, son. What is her name? we can find her in the phone book. The doctor spoke calmly, but the kid said no.
No, please don’t call my mom. I was supposed to be at school. She’ll ground me for months.
Well i’m sorry, son but that the policy, the doctor said.
the kid and I sat in the waiting area for about 15 minutes. 
You know when I was your age, I said, I also skipped school to go skating. My mom told me if i ever did it again, she’d take away my skateboard. And I never did it again. I said, laughing slightly & for the first time that day.
The kid laughed a little. That’s pretty funny, he said, but I just don’t wanna get into shit.
You’ll be alright, kid, I said, and hey, stop cursing so much.
The kid’s mother showed up in a blue mini van. She was extremely jittery and ran into the clinic looking around, and upon seeing her kid, gave him a death stare that I recognize from my own mother.
Jeremy! I can’t believe you!, she yelled.
And who are you? she gestured towards me.
I was about to answer but Jeremy interrupted. I snapped my board, mom. He just lent me his and then I fell and broke my wrist. He walked with me to the clinic. But I finally dropped in at the Sierra bowl, mom! Jeremy spoke proudly of his new achievement but his mom sighed.
Well, thanks for getting him here...uhh, she was to thank me but didn’t know my name.
I filled her in. Jason, ma’am. 
Well Jason, do you need a ride? She asked kindly.
No, ma’am. thank you. I replied.
You should join us for lunch, dude. Jeremy told me. right mom? He asked.
I guess that’s fine. But you’re still grounded. The mom answered. I decided to have lunch with the Fitzgerald’s as they were called. We rode back to their home, and I immediately noticed the three small home-made ramps in the front yard. 
Are those yours? i asked Jeremy.
yeah! been trying to land a kick flip off the high one. I guess now I can’t. Jeremy frowned slightly.
Jeremy’s mother made us ham and cheese sandwiches and we sat in their living room watching jeopardy. Their home was cozy. Only a couple of pictures of Jeremy and his mother. The beige wallpaper was calming and they were friendly. 
After we finished our lunch I thanked Jeremy’s mother and began to put my shoes on. 
Thanks for helping me out today, Jason. Jeremy said kindly, but his face was still sad.
I grabbed my skateboard and handed it to him.
You can have it, I said.
Jeremy was speechless, and he thanked me again, and then immediately ran outside to test it on his homemade ramps.
That was the second time I was happy that day.
I walked back towards Sierra Forest, this time taking me more than 30 minutes.
It was already 11, but I didn’t care about reaching the forest at 9 anymore. The weather was still good and the wind was still silent. 
I passed the Sierra tunnel again and I saw the old man resembling my grandfather. he was walking, with the help of an older lady. The man was smiling, and i began to tear up once again. 
The trees began whistling, and the wind began to arrive.
I looked up at the tall skeleton trees with no leaves for flesh and for the first time in a long time,
I saw life
I could taste the air
and I could smell the season.
I took my camera out of my bag and took a photo of the whistling trees.
I continued on the path to Sierra Forest, but I stopped suddenly.
I didn’t know why exactly, but I followed the feeling.
I took out my bag of candy, and stared at it
and at such a sight i felt nothing close to life. 
i tossed it in the trashcan and turned around, making my way back home.
I thought then to myself,
today is not the day to go for a hike.
<>
0 notes
dreamhimcloser · 7 years
Text
Quietus
Tumblr media
Deadpool!Taehyung x Death!Reader, angst|humor, pg13, 2023 words.
☠ I re-read Deadpool and Death - which is my favorite pairing for my favorite superhero - and decided it held some Tae vibes.
                                          ❖
Taehyung wasn't a stranger to pain. It was quite far from it actually, he felt pain in so many different ways there was no way he could’ve been anything near a stranger.
He felt it in the form of the recent heartbreak he experienced, brought by the woman he thought was the perfect fit for him – only to find out she's been using him to do something, weeks later he wasn’t sure what her goal was exactly. There was also going through chemotherapy for a very violent type of cancer that came out of nowhere – and way to close to the former form of pain mentioned. There was also the pain of losing both of his parents at a very young and venerable age, so much so that it felt like another lifetime altogether.
Taehyung lost so much, enough to make sure he has nothing left to lose. Right than came hope – the few rays of sunshine breaking through the clouds of his misery in the form of an experiment, doctors who told him they can think of ways to cure him from his latest assaulter. A terrible disease with no end that might be beat by science. Of course he accepted the offer, having no one to even depart from made it easy to take the chance.
What made it hard was the pop of the bubble.
They didn’t want to cure him, they weren’t even going to try – he was there to be a human lab rat. With no one to look for him or care for his wellbeing, it was just like taking candy from an orphaned baby.
He wasn’t a stranger to pain but this pain, what he was going through right now – that was a whole new level. Tied to a table with a towel pushed in his mouth could be a lot sexier, if the person behind it wasn’t by a mad scientist who played Russian roulette with his life every single day.
Another surge of unbearable pain went through Taehyung’s body, like a hundred knifes slicing through his bones as if they were as easy to tear down as paper. Sometimes he wished they were made of paper, this torture would’ve ended a lot sooner.
“You know, it took me a while to get this place.”
Taehyung breathed out when the pain pulled away from him, leaving him with barely any air in his lungs. He drew it in through his nose, frowning at the ceiling as he fought to breathe. Was the mad scientist really trying to speak to his torture patient?
The scientist appeared in his line of sight with a way too cheerful smile tainted by a bunch of crooked and decomposed teeth. Yikes. “The government actually wanted me to help the terminally ill in the beginning. I used to hear men in your position crying and whining as I try to be as gentle as possible with them. What bullshit.”
Right when his sentence ended – where Taehyung’s sassy remark should have come – the scientist broke respectable conversations rules and decided to bring more pain to Taehyung instead. With only the edge of his mind being the only part of him not screaming to die, he could barely feel the disappointment at the lack of respect towards him.
He’s helping the guy’s research after all, even if he’s forced to. The least he could do is help him make himself laugh in this dark pit of hell.
“You know what won them over?”
Taehyung was out of breath again, and that dumbass doctor just didn’t seem to care. What a douche.
“Money,” The doctor gave him a large smile that made Taehyung wish the pain would’ve taken his sight away. “You sick people cost money. Taking care of you, feeding you, keeping caretakers around you at all times – that’s a shitload of money. Killing you for my experience is, by chance, not. That’s awfully wise of me, right?”
Taehyung gave him his best what-the-fuck look, which the doctor didn’t seem to mind especially.
“Now you’re here, at my mercy,” The doctor looked at his machine in thought for a long moment, tweaking some of the parameters on it before he was happy enough to look at Taehyung again. His hand hovered over the ladder that powered the machine. “And to be quite honest with you, my poor rat,” His hand gripped the ladder as an evil twinkle took over his eyes. “I’m freshly out of any mercy.”
This pain was worse than the one before, everything around Taehyung turned black and for a moment, he felt relief. For a tiny little second he could believe he was finally dead.
                                          ❖
His eyes opened again to stare at the familiar, boring ceiling of his room. Surprise surprise, today was far from being his lucky day.
Every nerve in his body was agitated, making simple movements so much worse. He still sat up in his bed, the least a broody man can do is strike the relatable pose. He bent his knees so he could lean his arms against them, hands upwards to hold his head.
Much better.
Now anyone who watched him could know what kind of despair he was in.
And honestly, maybe, just maybe, he deserved some of that pain.
When Taehyung discovered his cancer, he was crushed. Actually crushed, not the comical crushed that you see in children cartoons. He went home to his apartment to find absolutely nothing in it – it took him a few hours to realize his girlfriend cleaned up everything for him. Not out of the kindness of her heart god forbid, she just wanted to leave him as helpless as he could.
Even more crushed.
And what does a crushed man do when he’s been crushed beyond crushed? Bad things, of course. It wasn’t hard to find a nice, dirty job to do – and not the kind he was fishing for to begin with. Stripper wasn’t his calling after all, but killing people apparently was. They called and he answered, blood and bodies kept piling up in his stride and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he had a handle on things.
That is, until his body shut down. Taehyung doesn’t even remember what happened, one moment he was fine and the next – he missed his target and got himself arrested. The only bright side was his cancer, for a whole day he thought he could just play that card and get away – that was the longest hope he ever experienced, you see. It almost fooled him before he got thrown in here.
It’s a pit of despair but it had an end to it, there’s so much his body can take after all. His heart felt numb, his body worse, and his soul just a minute away from popping right out of his body. If this was a comic book, he just might have been the hero.
“I like it.”
Taehyung would’ve jumped in surprise if his body didn’t feel like iron. He could turn his head though and when he did, he almost wished he hadn’t. Maybe it’s the hallucination that came with almost dying in the hands of a bananas doctor –
“I heard a saying once – men who are good with words must be good with their mouths,” You chuckled, crossing your legs as you leaned your head back against the door. “You know, the better use of your lips, teeth and tongue.”
Yup, he’s going insane. There’s no other explanation to the woman standing in his room – if he can call that a woman. It looked like one – long and curvy body wrapped in tight fitting robes, sort of like that nun fantasy he used to have in high school. The real worry began when his eyes reached the face, or where the face should’ve been. Instead of pretty features to go with that knocker body, he got a skull staring back at him through empty eye sockets.
“Wait,” Taehyung could almost hear a frown in your voice. “That description… You can see me?”
“You can read my mind?” Taehyung responded, figuring it’ll be enough of an answer to your question.
“Of course. I’m a part of every single human being, I have full access to everything going through your head.”
“Okay, I think I know what’s going on here,” Taehyung turned his entire body towards the figure, allowing his legs to dangle down from the hospital bed he was occupying. “My slow and painful decadence into madness finally reached its climax! Only it happened while I was asleep.” Taehyung nodded to himself, completely convinced of his words even though he could clearly hear you laugh. “I’m regretting to say it’s not the first time something like this happens to me. I could write a whole book about missing good, slow burning climaxes.”
Taehyung raised his eyes again to look at you, “At least the grim reaper is hot.”
“Why, thank you,” You responded, pushing yourself elegantly away from the wall. “It’s still strange, though. Humans aren’t meant to see me until their time to die has come, and yours is highly premature.”
“That also happened to me before, more shameful then the rest,” Taehyung pointed out, trying to sound as aloof as he could while his eyes and entire attention is turned towards your slow, teasing progression towards him. “These drugs they gave me must be pretty strong to give me a sexual fantasy out of pain. If it didn’t involve so much pain, I could even dig it. Taking drugs, seeing sexy death as your body stops working and only one organ lives through – “
“Oh don’t go all drama queen on me,” You huffed, still sounding amused. You were only numbered steps away from him now. “I’m Death, just live with it.”
Taehyung hissed, feeling his gut surging forward, towards you, “I see what you did there. Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier, damn.”
“I can feel your pull though, I know you summoned me. You need some… friendly help,” You finally reached him and your hands reached out – but it wasn’t his thighs you were aiming for. It was the mattress on their sides, just some leverage you could use to lean into him and drive him just a bit more insane. You were close enough that he could smell you – the slight smell of copper and sweat, which is probably, really is what you smell right before you die. “All you need to do. Is kiss me,” You pulled back and Taehyung could feel himself leaning forward, maintaining the distance between you even if his muscles pleaded him not to.
“A single kiss,” Your voice sounded like honey flowing through his ears, a slight chuckle leaving him thirsty for more of your little noises. He moved farther and just when he thought he could finally claim that kiss and cross after you – “And a dead body, of course,” You continued curtly, taking a whole step back that Taehyung was far from being able to catch up to.
“You need to find a way to die. I promise it’ll be worth your while.”
That sentence hung in the air when all it took for you to disappear was a single blink of Taehyung’s eyelids. He looked around the room, his chest feeling suddenly empty with your sudden departure. Taehyung groaned and looked down at the tent now decorating his pants. “Don’t you think my life is already complicated enough without having the hots of Death herself?” He spoke into the air with the full knowledge that nothing will answer back to him.
He threw himself down on the bed, ignoring the pain shooting in all directions through him as he moved around, looking for the best position to shove his hand down his pants.
He wanted to die as it was, he mused as he grabbed his cock, thumb toying with the tip to harden his erection. If he could die and have a piece of that babe Death, it’s a win-win situation.
There are odds he absolutely cannot ignore.
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kandadiff · 5 years
Text
Missing (8) - Jack’s Trick
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Three trucks with trained men holding weapons headed toward Flatwick. I was squeezed next to Jin and Seungri. Everyone was silent on the way there, just waiting out their leaders instructions. Building C was a seemingly abandoned building probably once used to hold old shipping containers that came in from ships on the nearby dock. No light was on but there was a red hankerchief tied to the door, it was a signal there were bodies inside. I sucked in a breath as we parked and GD got out.
Jin and I were the last to get out, told to stay close to Woojin and Chan in case of anything, Everyone had there guns out and there guard up. GD was the first in the building and whistled when everything was all clear, when I stepped in I noticed there were red marks on the floor leading the way. I cocked an eyebrow and stayed closer to chan, knowing that if anything I could probably take the gun from him.
The smell of mold got worse as we went in deeper into the dirty building and by the time we went down the stairs we heard voices. I couldn't contain the smile that spread across my face and I couldn’t wait to see the look on Jacks. GD kicked open the old door and quickly walked into the room we all followed. “What the fuck is this?” He said as I walked in and my smile faded
“No, no no” I whispered to myself, there was no one in the room, no jack, none of his trained killers- only us.. In the no windowed room, a TV sat playing a video were people were at a party laughing and drinking. “Hyung” Seungri said to his boss “Isn't that your engagement party?” GD’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the screen, it was. He recognized the red suit he had on complimenting the red dress that hugged your body so well. He saw his friends and colleagues drinking and laughing and her turned to me furiously.  
“What the fuck is this? some kind of sick fucking joke to you?”
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“I don’t know!” I shouted back to him backing up as he stomped over to me shoving his gun into Jungkook’s hands and bringing out his knife. I turned to try and run by he was quick and fastened a hand quickly around my throat shoving me back toward the wall. TOP rushed to his friend as he squeezed tighter on my throat, just enough to scare me but not to cut out my breath however the blade pressed just under my chin.
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“HOW DARE YOU BRING MY MEN OUT HERE TO PLAY SOME FUCKING PRANK ON ME!”
“I didn’t!” I shout back at him, Namjoon rushed over to us as well trying to calm down his boss. “I truly didn’t-“ Everyone was trying to convince him of my innocence but I was just focused on the hand around my neck and he was focused on my face.
“Fucking liar!”
“Hey!” I froze hearing the distictive voice of jack and someone called for GD’s attention. He turned back and I saw Jacks smirking face on the screen. “If you hurt my little kitten to badly I wont tell you where my bunny is.”
“Who the hell is that?!” Gd shouted angrily pulling me forward and but I was frozen in my place.
“Let her go” Jack said looking directly at me and Gd’s gripped his knife hard and turned to me again.
“WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?!”
“Jack Candie” I choked out shaking and GD threw me into Namjoon. 
“The one and only.” Jack smiled. “And you’re Jiyong Kwon right? The man who got engaged to my Bunny? You didn’t ask her fathers permission, that’s not polite.”
“You aren’t her father.” GD said there was still edge in his voice but he put his knife down and took his gun back. “Where is she? You hiding her somewhere in here? Working with her?” He pointed his gun at me then started to order his men to search the building but Jack’s chuckle stopped him.
“I miss my kitten but she is stubborn and feisty and she hasn’t been working with me, at least not yet.”
“I wont” I shot back and he glanced at me then back at GD.
“Don’t bother to send your men around the building. It’s empty, I figured it would take some time for her to crack the code, it was a complicated one, but it gave me enough time to set this up.”
“Where is she?” GD snapped impatiently. “I want to see Arianna, I want proof that shes okay?”
He laughed and I saw a few of the members get physically uncomfortable by his laugh. “You want proof? No, I can’t give you what I don’t have.”
“YOU FUCK! I SWEAR IF YOU HURT HER IN ANY WAY I WILL MAKE YOUR DEATH LONG AND PAINFUL-“
Jack put up his hand to silence the boy “I don’t have proof.” I breath caught in my throat and I buried myself deeper into Namjoon. Carefully placing my hand on the small metal pipe leaning against the wall. “If you want proof your going to have to ask Kitten.” He smile grew as he looked at me and I gripped the pole harder, I felt a few eyes go from me to Jack, GD’s was particularly burning with rage. “That why shes my favorite pet, she knew this whole time where the bunny was and brought all of you here to try and kill me but you didn’t anticipate that my men saw your little quarrel in the van after the club did you kitty-cat. I knew you’d never go after me yourself, youd have to have some poor fools that could help you.” He looked around the room “No offense.”
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Gd raced over to me but this time I was prepared, I pushed namjoon hard to the ground and lifted the pipe. Hitting GD hard in the stomach making him double over and Taeyang who came at me when he saw the pipe in my hand. Jungkook swung at me but I grabbed his hand and slammed him into the wall spotting my exit just a few feet away. I wasn’t foolish I knew I could never fight all of them. I was running on two days of no sleep and I was easily outnumbered. I barreled threw both Jimin and Jin and nearly reached the door when a hand tangled itself in my hair and I was thrown onto the ground. An angry TOP grabbed both my wrists in one of his hands throwing the pipe and his foot on my chest applying pressure, I could barely breathe but I heard Jack cheering. GD stood up and leaned closer to my face, he raised his fist to hit me and I closed my eyes in waiting for the painful blow .
“NO.” It was Jack’s voice that rang out loud and powerful over the room GD glanced back at him before laughing.
“and why the fuck not? She betrayed us. That is punishable by death in this gang.”
“If you want my bunny given to you, you won’t kill my kitten.”
“You said you don’t know where she is-“
“No I didn’t I said I don’t have proof but I don’t need it to know where she is. I know where all my pets are.”
“She’s not your pet, none of them are.” Jungkook shot back at him but Jack ignored his outburst.
“You have my kitten and you have my wolf. I like to think I am flexible if anything and I am willing to make a trade, two for the price of one. You give me my pets and I let you have the bunny and ill even give you a few hundred for them. But they cannot be dead or missing any fucking limbs or I’ll kill Arianna in front of you… understand?”
GD looked at his best friend for a moment before standing up and nodding. “It’s a deal.”
“Wait” RM said quickly “(in Korean)_ You heard the stories from Kay, Katya and Adi about how evil this man is and your just going to sell them back to her. They don’t deserve that-“
“(in Korean)_She betrayed us” He said looking down at me “(in Korean)_And Katya can learn her place as well. Taehyung will find another girl.” Namjoon shook his head in disgust.
“It’s a deal?” Jack asked and GD nodded “Splendid. I’ll get the money ready.”
“Wait how do we know where to meet you?” Taeyang asked and Jack chuckled.
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“You’re smart boys, Youll find a way.” He looked at me and I just wanted to melt into the ground and cry at the same time. “I missed you kitten, you’ll be home soon okay? So no crying.” He shrugged and the screen faded to black and I was left alone with GD’s glare burning into me.
-
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tsukionlyyouonlyyou · 7 years
Text
Life is odd. Feel like I'm about to fall off the face of the planet and only feel real when I am wanted. Really wanted... Like by a boy or for my service... I wonder if it's exhaustion. I am noticing small things that are unsettling me to my core and it's making me develop bad habbits. I keep to myself a lot lately, I'm forgetting how to reach out or lacking the will to even try. The teacher asks at the end of every night to get me an escort to walk me to the bus. To make sure I'm safe on the walk from our classroom to the bus stop. It gives me the illusion of genuine care, I thank him for that because I've not ever received something like it from a older man. Who had no intention to fuck me that is anyways. I lost a friend. I'm not sure how I feel. Hollow? I am not like them at all... I can't understand their choices or their behavior towards others. So it's better to let myself drift like a petal on the wind. I once thought we were alike, but I am certain they do not have the same ambition I do. Not goal mind you but drive to meet that goal. Where ever they may go I hope they find what motivates them. I am not happy. I am often lonely. But cannot find the words to say. I fear for my relationship, solely for the fact that I know he doesn't cope well with my down swings. I know in a week or two if this doesn't clear up he will put me in another " Your shutting me out , ah! I can't handle that don't tell me things" cycle. Which will depress him and... I don't want that. He is a good man, very good. But baby really... Really can't handle the things running through my noggin in it's depressive moods. We go on those cycles routinely when I get this way. I can't handle having to police my emotions whenever he is home or when I'm at school or work. I get by the school week by sheer force that I must, because crying or breaking down... Isn't an option. So yeah... I am repressing and really trying. I know he asks with good intentions, but when I answer truthfully I know it'll only mean I am going to hurt far more for having said the things in my heart. I am putting good faith in my darling that he won't leave. But I am not expecting his support in carrying this burden. I suspect his uncertainty about where he wants to go in life is playing a large role in his ineptitude recently. Maybe I can show him that deciding is sometimes better made when while well informed but going with your gut so to speak anyways. ... Cancer men seriously, best guys you'll meet. But ask them what they want to be when they grow up and you can practically smell the anxiety and existential dread on them. I love him... But to be close to him like this will wound him and he will resent me for it. I feel the odd desire to share everything with him, even the most graphic, terrible things, I've never even retold to myself. I can see in his eyes that reflect so clearly the color of the sky... That he didn't want to know someone really would violate another living being like that, much less the person he shares a bed with. With it, I knew my desire to be so honest I could feel clean around him was for not, and I would devalue myself by elaborating on the chilling details. I very much want to be clean and good for him. I want to be nice and polite. To really be talented and free of my cages, free of the illnesses that inevitably drives away my good friends. I want him to feel less like a caretaker and more like my boyfriend. If I could change those things that he has advised and asked me to make would he be glad that I were finally pristine? Or would he lament the passing of the scared angry girl who truly needed him more than she needed anyone else in her whole life. Or at least that's how she felt. She was a junkie and he was her drug of choice. I love him so... What can I do for him, please... Let me have the strength to light his way while he fumbles about his decisions. Let me be good for him. I saw him and knew I'd love him for the rest of my life. Who the fuck does that? Me apparently. I have a hard time deciding between candy bars in the vending machine let alone to decide I'd just be fucking batty for this guy I literally only laid eyes on just now for at least 4 years give or take all the foreseeable future. But I know, so long as I carry this burden, we won't share a last name. I mean, if that is even in the cards for us... He won't have me as I am. I never liked the idea of marriage, but if I were to enter that kind of hell contract. I'd enter it with him. He makes me feel like I can be a normal woman, with normal woman wants like a good job, loving husband, and maybe even screaming minions that kinda look like us. He informed me sticking it out with him means having his screaming minion's in eventuality. Not sure how to tell him my family has awful genetics and low iq's. I'd hate to taint his good genes with mine. He has a hard time deciding what he wants to do next. Right now during my uncertainty I am counting on his never deciding on a good time to have them. I hope if he doesn't end up with me who ever he does choose...I hope she adores him just as much if not more than I do. I miss the hills.
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bewareofchris · 7 years
Note
Is there more about the coffin maker& fed modern au? I really liked it and would love to read more!
There is a bit more.  I keep going back to it and thinking: “man I should finish that” and I started an entirely separate story (but not the original story) for them but didn’t finish this AU.
The Coffin Maker and the Fed (the modern version) | PG-13 | language, themes, some violence?
         Clarence, future G-man, FBI academy applicant, had a disastrouslove affair with the seedy criminal underground.  When he was a child hehad been intrigued by shoplifting and vandalism while his mother stared downher long nose at the filthy poor illiterates that would stoop to such crimes. She had gone on for hours about how vagrants and delinquents should befunneled into jails and milled out in work farms so they could make up for theevil that they had inflicted on humanity. It didn’t matter to her what their crime was—from stealing bread tobutchering babies—or even if they hadn’t committed one.  The fact was that Mother was simply above allthe common things that affected common people and whatever she couldn’tunderstand should be punished.  The onetime—and it was only one time—he had shoplifted a candy bar, he was seven andthe shop clerk gave him the sternest, meanest stare she could manage while shecalled his mom (but not the police) and by the time his mother arrived in fullregalia breathing fire out of her nose and shooting laser beams out of hereyes, the shop clerk looked terrified and repentant.  Clarence was lectured and berated the entireride home and then he was sent to bed without dinner, had all of his toysremoved from his room, spent two months grounded to his room and went withoutbirthday or Christmas presents that year. (His father, predictably, had done nothing to temper his wife’s rage buttook Clarence aside and asked him if he were ever going to do anything sofucking stupid again and Clarence—miserable and lonely and bored—had said no.)
The fact that he was aterrible crook with an insane mother and a push-over father notwithstanding,his love affair with the criminal mind and the criminal underworld had movedbeyond petty crimes and developed into a full-fledged romance with the mosttwisted and disturbingly wrong facets of humanity.  At twenty-one, born and bred upper class,stationed in a beautiful apartment just within walking distance to the collegehe attended (not that he had to walk because he had a car), Clarence’s grasp ofthe anything criminal was almost entirely theoretical.  What little of the seedy underbelly he hadmanaged to see consisted of amateur drag races and small-time drug dealerssubletting their stash to pay for food or more drugs.  He’d met a prostitute once, at a party, andshe was short with thick thighs and red lips that talked to him about politicswith more intelligence than half the stoners that he went to school with.  She never offered him a deal on her servicesand it was just as well because he liked to remember her with pink on hercheeks complaining about Republicans.
Still, whenever helearned about anything resembling remotely illegal, he was compelled to go to it.  Thatwas how he found himself driving two towns over to an underground fight, allbut bare-knuckled in an abandoned parking lot. His friend Ed (or Ned, or Ted or even Fred—he forgot because his friendswere passing whims, always here and then gone) sitting shotgun and running awild commentary on how he’d seen these guys fight before and the blood was ridiculous.  Clarence could care less about the blood, orthe violence, but it was the whole idea of it and the sort of people that itattracted that made his body vibrate just under his skin.
He parked them away fromthe other cars, locked the doors with a wince and shoved his keys down into thedeepest part of his pocket and followed the smell-and-sound of the crowd with (T)Edat his side.  They were stopped at amake-shift gate by a guy without a neck that demanded a modest fee forentry.  Clarence paid it and then workedhis way through the dense crowd of bodies. The smell was end-of-the-day, summer-after-dark strong with a tinge ofgirl perfume and hair product thrown in now and again to break off the chokingsmell of sweating-bodies.  By the timehe’d wormed his way through to the front, he’d lost (N)Ed among the otherruddy-cheeked spectators.  They werealive with the prospect of blood and the whole homoerotic mess of half-nakedsweating men grabbing and smacking on each other.
         (Clarence wouldnever-not-ever understand how the heterosexual mind worked, and how it managedto compartmentalize all of its various contradictions without imploding fromthe effort.)
         There was a refereein a black-and-white striped jersey with a mike calling the fight from thethick of it.  Off to the side there werevendors selling cold microwave popcorn and muggy-warm beer while bookies workedthe lines of people taking bets. Clarence wanted to stop one and find out what the odds were but he wastoo caught up in the sheer glory of the grunt-and-punch fight.  There was no way (none at all) that they wereall going to make it away from this fight without the cops dropping by to breakit up and he was straining his ears to listen for the wail of sirens over theroar of the thick crowd.
         The third fight hesaw was the last fight of the night, the ref was calling back the winners ofthe previous rounds—the same guy he’d just watched beat the hell out of someredheaded man with freckles over bruises on his skin.  Clarence was half-willing to put money onthat guy (the Amazing-something, according to the ref) because he was like afucking machine that never just couldn’t stop but as the ref called out thesecond name, the crowd exploded in a mix of cheers and hisses of disapproval.
         There was Elias, Burger-StopElias of syrup stocking fame, bare-chested, tan, fat lip and bruised knuckles,stepping into the make-shift ring with a beautifully crafted blankexpression.  His hands were wrapped insome kind of tape and he was barefoot on hot asphalt without a wince.  He had blood at the edge of his chin likehe’d been wiping it off his face and he walked up to his opponent to touchfists together like they were both old pros at this.  Elias walked a circle around the ring, gotclose enough that when a few hands darted out to touch him they nearly grazedhis over-sized shoulder.  
         The fight wasshort-and-brutal.  The amazing-whoevercame after Elias as soon as the bell was sounded, and like before he was allfury and flying fists, landing blows wherever he could catch enough skin.  Elias took it in silence, protected his faceand waited for a clean shot.  The amazingdumbass took a half-second to catch his breath and Elias shifted from defenseto attack.  He landed three hits and theother man went down, hard, like hard-enough to crack-the-sidewalk-hard.  
         The crowd wascaught between hisses and cheers, separated by fans and losers who were chantingout cheat in an effort to reclaim their suddenly lost bets.  Clarence was the only one (as far as he couldtell form a hastily hazarded look around) that was shoving his fists into hispockets to conceal an ill-timed boner while he watched Elias wipe at the newsmear of blood on his mouth as he walked toward the exit of the ring.  As soon as he was through it, disappearingout of the bright utility lights and fading into the shadows, the whole crowdwas breaking up.  Women in slut shoeswere working through the men, picking out the happy faces that were suddenrecipients of handfuls of cash and getting high on their own giddyaccomplishment.  Clarence worked his waythrough the crowd as it started to move, threaded through to the side wherethere was a brief, warm catch of fresh air before it was overwhelmed again bystale butter popcorn, spilt beer and cigarette smoke.  He splashed through a puddle of suds that hesincerely hoped was beer and not piss and jogged toward Elias.  He was standing apart, accepting his share ofthe winnings with his shirt thrown over one shoulder and his shoes tucked underone arm.  
         Clarence was,literally, five short feet away from him when the first shrill peal of policesirens cut into the murmuring noise of the dispersing crowd.  The man doling out cash to Elias jumped likehe’d been shocked and hastily shoved over the rest of the money owed before heturned and ran.  Behind him, there werehalf-frightened screams with the undercurrent of a sudden stampede.  Elias just turned toward the sound, towardthe light of the ring and let out a sigh like he was already resigned to beingcaught and questioned for his part in it.
         “I’ve got a car,”Clarence said because Elias was looking over him and not at him and because hehad a car.  The sirens were closer-now;the edge of red-and-blue lights coming in around buildings and Clarence grabbedElias by the hand and pulled him into a run. “Work with me, here.”
         Elias was aslow-start runner, like a rhinoceros that had to build up and like a beast toodamn big-and-heavy for its own good; he couldn’t corner worth a damn.  Clarence made a quick right and Elias knockedthem both over, Clarence face-first into the ground with only his hands and oneknee to catch himself and Elias rolled across his back and hit the ground nextto him.  Something popped in Clarence’shand but he didn’t have time to worry too-much about that because Elias wasalready back on his feet and grabbing him by the elbow to drag him up and thenpull him along until he’d managed to jump start his limp into a full-outrun.  They fell into the car at fullspeed, Clarence’s throbbing, bloody palms catching painfully on the keys shoveddown into his pocket before he was able to open the locks and get into the damncar.
         His heart wasbeating the inside of his ribcage sore by the time he got the car started andpulled out of the parking lot a few buildings away from the fight.  The first cop car was already on the scene,highlighting the fleeing bodies with its red-and-blue strobe effect.  He slipped away as quietly as he could, triedto drive in a way that seemed nonchalant and innocent when he felt tipped-overand out of control.  Elias was silent nextto him, taking up space and giving off heat but not even managing to make enoughnoise with his breathing to be noticeable.
         Clarence parkedthem in front of a twenty-four hour pancake place and flopped back against theseat with the car still on and the radio still playing the worst hits of theeighties, nineties and today.  Elias letout a breath and squinted up at the neon letters promising drunken college kidscheap food at all hours and then looked back at him.  
         “Should I assumethat every time I meet you is going to involve pancakes?” Elias said.
         And maybe that waswhy Clarence remembered the first time they met, hung over as hell, becauseElias remembered it.  He was grinninglike an idiot because Elias rememberedhim and because he was exhausted from the slide down from adrenaline andthe pain in his ragged bloody-palms was working its way back into hisbrain.  He looked down at his hands, theground chuck look of them and the fattening swell of his now-crooked ringfinger on his left hand.  “Shit,” hesaid.
         “That looksbroken,” Elias said helpfully from the side.
         “No shit,” hesaid.  He touched it gingerly, poked atthe red-blush of heat around the broken bone and decided he was really too muchof a wimp to even try to nudge it straight again.  “Guess you’re going to the ER with me.”
         “Why would I dothat?” Elias asked.
         “Because if yourolled over me and broke my finger and it’s your responsibility to make surethat I get medical attention for my injury,” Clarence said.  He turned his hand over once-or-twice andtried to ignore the boiling pain that was working up his hand toward his wrist.
         “That’s a veryentitled view on the situation,” Elias said, “besides I don’t have a shirt orshoes.  I lost them when I rolled overyou and I don’t think they let you sit around the ER waiting room shirtless.”
         Clarence used hisgood hand to open his door and popped open the trunk of the car with his keyfob.  “Come on,” he said when Eliasdidn’t move to follow him immediately. They stood at the trunk, Elias staring in disbelief in the array ofclothes he had stockpiled and with one hand on the car and the other hanginglimply at his side as his finger swelled even fatter.  “I can feel you judging me.”
         “These aren’t yourclothes,” Elias said, “why do you have a trunk full of clothes that don’tbelong to you?”
         “They get leftbehind.  The point is that there is ashirt in here and,” he dug under the piles until he found the pair of terribleflip flops that were tucked in the side by the tire iron, “these are verynearly shoes.”  
         Elias looked at himsideways, thinking all the worst possible things about him from slut to insaneand Clarence wouldn’t have denied a single one of the accusations if they’dbeen spoken out loud.  It was just thatlook of disbelief and disdain on Elias’ face, that same look that sometimeshis-mother used on him whenever she found him messing in dirt and couldn’tbring herself to touch him because of it. That face was half the reason Clarence had gone off and gone throughwith every stupid idea he’d ever had, just fucking because (and fuck their perfect faces too).  “I’ll drive,” Elias said, “what hospital doyou want to go to?”
         Clarence had adisconnected moment between hearing-and-registering the words.  So he was full of venom when he opened hismouth and it came out in his voice like fire, he said, “you know—what?”
         “I said, I’lldrive.  You can’t hold the wheel withbroken fingers.”  He dug around throughthe shirts, found one that he thought was decent enough and smelled it in fourdifferent places before he put it on. “What’s your name?” he asked.
         “Clarence.  And—thanks,” he said.  He tossed his car keys to Elias withoutworrying about whether or not he was a legal driver, if he could drive stick,if he were a crazed killer in his spare time between Burger-Stop and streetfighting.  He just watched him fittinghis dirty-bare-feet into the flip flops after he pulled the long sleeve T-shirton over his head and then went to get into the passenger side of the car.
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Note
1-200?
200:
My crush’s name is: Cassie
199:
I was born in: 1998, Australia, NSW
198:
I am really: I am really annoyed that you wanna know so much about me anon y u do dis
197:
My cellphone company is: Optus
196:
My eye color is: Brown
195:
My shoe size is: 11 Australia Mens
194:
My ring size is: i dont know
193:
My height is: 181cm or 5′10″ i tihnk
192:
I am allergic to: NOTHING I AM UNSTOPPABLE
191:
My 1st car was: No Car
190:
My 1st job was: I was an assistant at some guys authentic pizza shop. He was an asshole and i shouldve killed him before quitting.
189:
Last book you read: Ready Player One
188:
My bed is: My bed is my one true love and warm machine luv u bb
187:
My pet:  I have 2 dogs they’re fluffy love muffins called Pepsi (boy) Bella (Girl) ill post photos of them later!
186:
My best friend:
@schotts-fired
at this point i have as many memes with Kat as i do my real life best friend.
185:
My favorite shampoo is: Really nice smelling ones.
184:
Xbox or ps3: PS3
183:
Piggy banks are: Piggy banks are dumb i have a golden pineapple for my spare change.
182:
In my pockets:  earphones.
181:
On my calendar: every friday i do stuff but thats it
180:
Marriage is: cool
179:
Spongebob can: produce good memes
178:
My mom: Isnt nice i probably wont talk to her once i move out.
177:
The last three songs I bought were?Buying? Songs?
176:
Last YouTube video watched: Masculinity by Mr Sark
175:
How many cousins do you have? at least 3
174:
Do you have any siblings? 3 Brothers and a Sister ive seen twice
173:
Are your parents divorced? Yes
172:
Are you taller than your mom? Hell yeah shes a goblin at like 150cm.
171:
Do you play an instrument? No
170:
What did you do yesterday? I slept, watched movies, complained about the internet being down.
[ I Believe In ]
169:
Love at first sight: Not unless its a dog
168:
Luck: No but if someone does something better than me they’re lucky >:(
167:
Fate: No
166:
Yourself: No
165:
Aliens: I wish they would fix everything
164:
Heaven: Questioning my religious beliefs lately
163:
Hell: ^
162:
God: ^
161:
Horoscopes: No but they’re funny to read
160:
Soul mates: No.
159:
Ghosts: NOT BUT LIKE ALIENS I WANT THEM TO BE REAL GHOSTS PLEASE BE REAL.
158:
Gay Marriage: Yah its about as good as straight marriage
157:
War: its about as shit as i am
156:
Orbs: what are these?
155:
Magic: Refer to both ghosts and aliens.
[ This or That ]
154:
Hugs or Kisses: Hugs
153:
Drunk or High: Drunk
152:
Phone or Online: Online
151:
Red heads or Black haired: Red Heads
150:
Blondes or Brunettes: Brunettes
149:
Hot or cold: Cold
148:
Summer or winter: Winter
147:
Autumn or Spring: Spring
146:
Chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate
145:
Night or Day: Night
144:
Oranges or Apples: Apples
143:
Curly or Straight hair: Straight
142:
McDonalds or Burger King: McDonalds
141:
White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: White Chocolate
140:
Mac or PC: PC
139:
Flip flops or high heals: High heals like healing in video games am i right?
138:
Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: Sweet and Poor
137:
Coke or Pepsi: Coke
136:
Hillary or Obama: Obama
135:
Burried or cremated: Burried so i may rise again!
134:
Singing or Dancing: Dancing
133:
Coach or Chanel: What
132:
Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks:Who
131:
Small town or Big city: Big City
130:
Wal-Mart or Target: Target
129:
Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Adam Sandler
128:
Manicure or Pedicure: neither? 
127:
East Coast or West Coast: East coast cause western australia is a bunch of weirdos
126:
Your Birthday or Christmas: My birthday cause giving gifts is hard and spending time with people is easy.
125:
Chocolate or Flowers:Chocolate
124:
Disney or Six Flags: Disney
123:
Yankees or Red Sox: is that sports?
[ Here’s What I Think About ]
122:
War: War Never Changes
121:
George Bush: He definitely did sleep with that woman.
120:
Gay Marriage: Good again!
119:
The presidential election: Trump is a rollercoaster of emotion ranging from bad to worse. At least the memes are good!
118:
Abortion: Choice
117:
MySpace: Had some pretty good games on it
116:
Reality TV: awful
115:
Parents:  My parents? Out of the 4 ive had i like one of them.
114:
Back stabbers: What kind of question is this i hate them.
113:
Ebay: Dont use ebay really.
112:
Facebook: The thing i use so real life friends can contact me its trash.
111:
Work: My experiences have been, less than pleasant.
110:
My Neighbors: I dont know any of my neighbours but they’re rude and dont reply to my hello’s.
109:
Gas Prices: i dont fucking know
108:
Designer Clothes: I dont care for clothes i wear tshirts and trackies all the time.
107:
College: No opinion on call egg.
106:
Sports: Fun to play boring to watch
105:
My family: i like my dad and my brothers
104:
The future: must be better than now?
[ Last time I ]
103:
Hugged someone: someone i wasnt related to like a month ago
102:
Last time you ate: literally always
101:
Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: last friday
100:
Cried in front of someone: fucking years ago i dont cry in front of people anymore
99:
Went to a movie theater: like a month ago
98:
Took a vacation: never
97:
Swam in a pool: 3 months ago
96:
Changed a diaper: never
95:
Got my nails done: a year ago
94:
Went to a wedding: also a year ago
93:
Broke a bone: never
92:
Got a peircing: never
91:
Broke the law: never
90:
Texted: couple hours ago
[ MISC ]
89:
Who makes you laugh the most: myself, anime
@schotts-fired
88:
Something I will really miss when I leave home is: the internet
87:
The last movie I saw: Taking of Pelham 123
86:
The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: Finding my happiness again
85:
The thing im not looking forward to: my ex making social interactions awkward again
84:
People call me: Jack
83:
The most difficult thing to do is: get out of bed, finish breakfast
82:
I have gotten a speeding ticket: no
81:
My zodiac sign is: Sagittarius 
80:
The first person i talked to today was:
@whoneedsasociallife
79:
First time you had a crush: Primary School one of my Teachers
78:
The one person who i can’t hide things from: Nobody.
77:
Last time someone said something you were thinking: Constantly
76:
Right now I am talking to: Nobody
75:
What are you going to do when you grow up: Anything hopefully ill be happy
74:
I have/will get a job: Someday
73:
Tomorrow: Movies with dad, night with friends
72:
Today: nothing
71:
Next Summer: nothing
70:
Next Weekend: also nothing
69:
I have these pets: 2 diggity doggos
68:
The worst sound in the world: the sound my computer makes when it bluescreens while music it playing
67:
The person that makes me cry the most is: my ex
66:
People that make you happy: almost nobody
65:
Last time I cried: like 5 hours ago
64:
My friends are: trash shit garbage
63:
My computer is: absolute trash after so many issues im planning on getting a new one
62:
My School: sucked complete ass i was abused by a teacher
61:
My Car: doesnt exist
60:
I lose all respect for people who: no answer
59:
The movie I cried at was: anything that involves any form of friendship and love, or dogs dying
58:
Your hair color is: brown
57:
TV shows you watch: read my about
56:
Favorite web site: tumblr/youtube
55:
Your dream vacation: the fucking moon
54:
The worst pain I was ever in was: I had a cough last year that completely killed my voice and tore up my throat, coughed up blood
53:
How do you like your steak cooked: Well Done
52:
My room is: Clean and tidy af
51:
My favorite celebrity is: none
50:
Where would you like to be: in the future
49:
Do you want children: no
48:
Ever been in love: yes it fucking ruined me
47:
Who’s your best friend:
@schotts-fired
we already have more memes than my irl best friend
46:
More guy friends or girl friends: girl friends
45:
One thing that makes you feel great is: memes
44:
One person that you wish you could see right now: nobody tbh
43:
Do you have a 5 year plan: nope
42:
Have you made a list of things to do before you die: climb Mt. Everest, thats it
41:
Have you pre-named your children: nope
40:
Last person I got mad at: myself
39:
I would like to move to: a place with good internet
38:
I wish I was a professional: Twitch Streamer
[ My Favorites ]
37:
Candy: Red Licorice
36:
Vehicle: Shopping trolleys i guess
35:
President: Obama
34:
State visited: I dont travel
33:
Cellphone provider: Optus
32:
Athlete: None
31:
Actor: None
30:
Actress: None
29:
Singer: None
28:
Band: None
27:
Clothing store: None
26:
Grocery store:None
25:
TV show: Doctor Who
24:
Movie: Cant remember
23:
Website: Tumblr/Youtube
22:
Animal: Dogs
21:
Theme park: Wet n’ Wild
20:
Holiday: New Years
19:
Sport to watch: None
18:
Sport to play: None
17:
Magazine: None
16:
Book: Ready Player One
15:
Day of the week: Friday
14:
Beach: Nobbys Beach 
13:
Concert attended: None
12:
Thing to cook: Potato Bake
11:
Food: Pork Ribs
10:
Restaurant: Any place that sells pork ribs
9:
Radio station: None.
8:
Yankee candle scent: what
7:
Perfume: no
6:
Flower: any that can go in my hair like a hipster
5:
Color: Purple
4:
Talk show host: John Oliver
3:
Comedian: Louis C.K.
2:
Dog breed: Shiba Inu
1:
Did you answer all these truthfully? maybe i dont know myself
Fuck you anon you cant stop me im dedicated as heck and butts fight me.
:Update: I went and updated these cause my internet came back!
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aikainkauna · 7 years
Text
Five things meme thing
Christ, I’m bored and probably suicidally stupid to post ANYTHING personal on this website but fuckit. Too bored. Here you go.
Five things in my bag:
This would be a rucksack.
-A red folder with all kinds of medical texts from my various illnesses, so I have them on hand if a doctor/nurse/disabled services social worker wants to look. They often do.
-Ginger candy (I prefer the Indonesian Ting Ting Jahe brand, the ones with the checquered ends on the wrappers). I'm not a candy person and extremely intolerant to carbs, but they're for nausea and one has only 3 g of carbs. Nausea happens often with my medications and also saves me from passing out if I have to have a blood test taken--I have a neurological glitch where I'm hypersensitive to touch and feel pain approximately 1392579515893 times more intensely than most people and I can go unconscious from pain with blood tests, gyn visits etc. so that stuff comes in handy. The touch sensitivity is only useful during sex...
-A packet of Amma's Rose incense sticks. As much as I want to support her charities, the incenses from her ashram aren't that great. They're not bad-smelling or anything, but not what I want from incense either; I've had better (usually prefer good old Auroshikha). The scent is pleasant when not burned, so I keep a packet in my rucksack for the fragrance.
-Splenda tablets, imported from the UK. You can't get sucralose here as tabletop sweetener for some reason (even if it can't be banned since I have seen it listed as a sweetener in squash etc.), and I way prefer it to the metallic-tasting Hermesetas that's usually the only available non-carby sweetener in cafes and restaurants. Or worse, fucking stevia (yeah, I really like that sickening aftertaste that lasts TWO DAYS from just one cup of coffee). Splenda is basically the only sweetener that doesn't taste awful to my mouth.
-Painkillers and benzos for emergencies.
Five things in my bedroom
-8 framed pictures/posters/prints of Conrad Veidt. Mostly Jaffar, but there's one Torsten, one Baroudi and that goddamn lounging-seductively-onna-sofa sex panther postcard. I still look at Jaffar's eyes every day and cry out "HOW?!?" and the Jaffar/Pwinzezz onna ship poster facing my bed is great for looking at during a fap if I have trouble focusing on the visuals of my fantasy.
-An old spice rack, probably Russian because it's too pretty to be Finnish, that now serves as a cabinet for my essential oils and attars. The rack has little colourful tealights and pictures of Shiva, the triple Devi, Krishna hugged by Yasoda, Kali's yantra blessed by Amma, and Ganesha on it (my proper altar is in the living room, but I like to keep my homies close) and a little red lantern dangling from it. Peacock feathers also dangle from it.
-Aromatherapy lamp/diffuser thing on my windowsill with more tealights and my most-used essential oil bottles (camphor, rosemary, patchouli, rose, jasmine, ylang ylang, eucalyptus, star anise) beside it because fuck getting them from the cabinet several times a day.
-Many pillows and cushions on the bed. I only sleep with one, but I use the rest for supporting my bent left leg when I'm wanking. Feels way better when I can keep at least one of my legs up-ish to add pressure/muscle tone to/tighten my vag. It's not that I'm loose down there (smaller than average, actually, which gives my gyn and my sex toy reviewing contact woman problems when we have to figure out how to and what can reach the deepest/best spots down there), but bloody hell, the pillow lift feels different. You wouldn't think it made much of a difference, but whenever I have to fap in a bed without support for at least one leg (or am being done by a guy!), I definitely notice it. ("What are you doing, building a pillow fort?" "Feels better for both of us if I get just one more cushion... hang on...")
-Noki's urn on my bedside table. It has a little holder for a tealight on the top, and I light a candle there for her every day. When I light the candle, I kiss the urn and say "Hello, Floofen." It's the phrase @versaphile always used whenever she saw Noki during our video chats, and when I first showed her the urn and was crying my eyes out (funnily enough, I am crying now), she just exclaimed "Hello, Floofen!" and it was just so warm and wonderful--and exactly what I needed to hear, then. So now I say it every time. And when the candle goes out, I say to myself and/or Dolores: "Noki's gone to sleep." (And Doli has just showed up. Sadly, I don't think she's one of those cats who picks up on human emotions and comes to comfort us when we're sad, though. She probably just wants noms or entertainment, as usual, but it's a nice coincidence anyway.)
Five things I've always wanted to do
Christ, thinking of these makes me depressed because these always involve... people and things that can go wrong. So I try not to have dreams about things, because it's nigh impossible for anything to feel perfect for me. And then I get deeply upset. My brain's just not wired for that kind of thing. But let's try.
-If not find a good male lover, at least afford a really fucking good daddy dom escort who can give me a proper hard thrashing and fucking. A really good, hard seeing-to from time to time. But to be perfect or even satisfying, he (and anyone else/everyone else sleeping with me) would have to be fucking psychic, so no can do. Jaffar's always going to be better. It's always Jaffar.
-Speaking of which, go visit Connie's urn again.
-...no, really, I just keep getting depressed. Therapy taught me not to do goals because of this kind of thing. I will keep my bar low so as not to slit my wrists. Like, I feel that even if I said "I want to have a nice cuppa in a minute," I'd break the mug and burn my legs from scalding tea. So let's move on.
Five things that make me happy
-Wanking. The fantasy worlds, when I really get going, are immensely complex and detailed and emotionally deeply satisfying and spiritual and wonderful. If I don't get to wank, I will lose all love, all happiness, all creativity. So that has to be the number one essential thing for not only my happiness but my sanity. And this is why I hate the (male-centric, body-centric) idea that wanking is just some pathetic rub to release pressure, or that sex=the physical act, with another person. When it's everything but that for women (biologically, not gender-essentialistily speaking) since our arousal is always dependant on the mental/emotional (which is why women read/write erotica rather than just watch porn because we want to be and need to be in the *mental* state of the characters, and that's only possible via text/imagination--and why it's fanfic in particular: we already have an emotional response to the characters. So this weird, deeply misguided trend to call that part of sexuality that’s between the ears, and all kinds of perfectly normal female sexuality "asexuality" is utter misogynist blasphemy for me--to call the *essence* of sex itself a lack of sex, just because nobody fucking asked how *women* processed sex, just some guy to whom it was all about dick in pussy! Jesus, the mental aspect is how vaginas *work!* And of course I prefer fic and wanking to “real” sex because the culture of masculinity tries to eradicate from men the very thing women need--emotional stimuli, sensitivity and empathy! How about we call the culture of defining sex through rub of flesh on flesh only not real sexuality at all because it omits emotion and humanity? How about that?)
So, yeah, wanking. It most definitely is the greatest mental, spiritual, creative pleasure for me. That's the life force, creation, poetry for me--there would not be fic, passion, fangirling for me. Take it away and I have nothing, and you will not have me.
-The whole wanking thing is so entwined with my writing that I feel like I shouldn’t mention writing separately? It’s the same creative process of the erotic. But I have so few things that make me happy that I guess I should say something like “being in full flow when the text just comes out and I’m swimming in happy OTP/unf/aaaahthespiritualinsights” feelings.
-Conrad Veidt. And his stupid fucking panther face. And his stupid fucking lady hips of infinite slink. And his eyes of vertignious skies. Etc. But that’s not separate from the above either.
-When people actually come and talk to me in my fic comments on Ao3. Honestly. Getting to have a good chat with someone who enjoyed my story basically makes my entire day. I might have woken up being completely miserable physically and/or mentally, but then checked my email and--A PERSON! ANOTHER HUMAN BEING! SOMEONE I HAVE TOUCHED THROUGH MY FIC! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! That sense of human connection (especially to someone who has no local friends and never gets out of the house) is wonderful. Especially when it’s through, well, the best and deepest and most essential part of myself--the creative/erotic/history-nerdy/spiritual/pervert/geek part. The outer world sees the frumpy gothy cat lady and doesn’t bother, but you’re talking straight to my soul there, meine sveet. So, yes, it is very happymaking indeed, and more than that. It tells me that I have indeed done something to make the world less shitty a place. 
-Honestly, there are so few things... IDK, the satisfaction of having sorted various RL things out, having Adulted successfully. Having enough money to get my prescriptions out, having a fridge full of food and having fed the cat and not being in too much pain, and being able to do something creative. If all those things happen during one day, it’s a supermega-rare day of awesomeness.
Five things I'm currently into
-Conrad Veidt
-Conrad Veidt
-Conrad Veidt
-Conrad Veidt
-Sleeping
Five things on my to-do list
-Have to nip down to the shops on my own today. In fact, it’s exactly why I am memeing--I am at once trying to wake up but also being avoidant. Aaaarrrgh. But it’s an emergency because I am running out of caffeinated beverages.
-Must send a list of synopses of all my programme items at Redemption ‘17 to Big Dave. No, I have not forgotten. Just been fucking knackered and avoidant and the con stress is crushing me. I really don’t envy those of you on the committee who are doing the REALLY hard work.
-Actually prep those programme items properly. A taste of what’s to come and why you all should come to the convention because it’s awesome:
Talk: Queering Up Het because of course you need the guy in a dress and with a strap-on up his arse while the chick goes down on another chick, talk: Villains as Liberators in fanfic, het romance in particular and what they can give to fangirls/the heroines because they’re the Other and as such, less patriarchally shitty, history item: reading out shittons of OLD PORN FROM HISTORY with @coolserpentina (she’s doing Aretino; I’m doing Abu Nuwas), panels: some swashbuckling/Old Hollywood stuff where Big Dave and I and hopefully @filmforfancy talk about OH as a slash fucking goldmine and also Basil Rathbone’s horsecock fencing skillz, and some other stuff which I’ve forgotten and my head’s exploding already.
-Remember to buy basil today. I am out of basil. I have to just, like, draw a huge conk on a piece of paper to remind me. I fucking know I’m going to forget the basil.
-Ring the damn Social Insurance Institute to find out what the fuck’s up with my disabled housing allowance. I think they’re closed down for today. And I’ll be asleep during office hours for the rest of the week. Fuck.
Five things people may not know about me
-I actually keep a list somewhere to answer THIS EXACT QUESTION on all these memes, because whenever I’m asked these, I always struggle to come up with weird random facts. And then I remember several when I’m not memeing. And guess what? I’ve lost the sodding note. *face in hands, groaning*
1. I own an oversized dildo called Ainley and used to own a big German vibrator called Heinrich (Strasser), but he died. I also have a buttplug called Claude Rains. He's very small but very powerful and leaves you gasping and very satisfied after his performances. But I think you might already know this about me.
2. Well, most of you on here probably won’t know what the fuck about my various illnesses, but Non-24 is one of the three most debilitating ones. You go to sleep one hour later each night and wake up one hour later (most people have the form where your day is a 25-hour one instead of 24 hours) and you basically cycle through an entire day in a month’s time (at the beginning of the month you woke up at 4 AM, then 5 AM, 6 AM etc. and once a month’s passed, you’re waking up at 4 AM again). There’s no way of fixing the ever-sliding sleeping rhythm, not even with the strongest of knockout pills they gave to psychosis sufferers and believe you me, N24 sufferers have *tried everything*. And you’re always in a state of extreme exhaustion and jet lag, comparable to the level of fatigue narcolepsy sufferers have. So it’s a major pain in the arse whenever I try to schedule anything, whether it’s doctors’ appointments or chats with friends, because I literally don’t know when I will be awake on Thursday next week (because forced awakenings to go out and do stuff combined with poor quality of sleep, sometimes only getting 3 hours of sleep a night, complicate the rhythm even further). And whenever it’s one of those miraculous days on which I’ve slept enough to process fic, I *will* be ficcing, lest I go fucking nuts, so I will most definitely not be sacrificing my rare chances to be happy and fulfilled to anything else. (Even Important Adult RL stuff, if it can be put off, because my sanity’s more important.) I might also actually have narcolepsy on top of that, but they haven’t prodded me enough to find out yet. So. Yeah. I’m always fucking knackered and that’s why my sense of humour and sex drive are what they are--they’re all linked in that one part of the frontal lobe, so you get a person who’s constantly fucking exhausted AND constantly getting cracky ideas brought on by sleep deprivation AND who’s constantly horny. Basically, I should have married an anaesthetist.
3. ...I think that this year, I will have been writing fanfic for 20 years (if calculated from the time I encountered actual fanficcing culture and started to take part in it). And I feel ancient. And still slip into fucking badfic. OTOH, I’ve only written longfic since 2012 or so. Thanks to that dead German arsehole.
4. I own only two pairs of what you could vaguely call trousers. One pair is made of leather and one is just a pair of slacks. Whenever I wear them, I feel like I'm in drag. I'm way more comfortable in big flouncy skirts because they don't bind my hips/thighs/legs or ride up my crotch. And several layers of skirts are much, much warmer in the winter than several layers of tights/leggings/jeans or something. And with my chronic pelvic/back pain and limited mobility, ease of movement is essential. Fuck trousers, basically.
5. There should probably be something more interesting here, but I do have to go to the shops and I’ll just leave you with this: I’m hypermobile, which makes me able to scratch my ear with my toes, but also means I sprain everything all the time, adding to all the other funky pains I’ve got all over anyway. I can tie myself into a knot even without regular yoga exercise (this is another superpower of suck that’s only useful during sex), but it also means motherfucking sciatica every time I leave the house. I sometimes even count the amount of steps I manage to take outside the house before something in my back goes *crunch* and the sciatic nerve gets trapped and each step on whatever foot’s side it happened on will be one lancing lash of pain. Yay!
So, you know. This is why I don’t meme often and publicly because it just becomes a list of my illnesses. And I find that annoying because often it just gets in the way of what people know about me--they just see the sick woman. So I’d much rather focus on what’s on the inside--the porning and the poetry and all the creative, *pleasant* stuff. I’ve got a lot to escape from, so that’s why I escape and fucking hard. So I hope that escapism in the form of fics and pics and godawful tags will help others escape as well. I know how you feel and all that.
And now I’ve got to go and buy that horseco--I mean basil.
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