#// my roommate isn't talking to me for whatever reason and i share not only a room but a bed with him

[princesayumi4k]

.P.S. Y/N is a girl in this story, sorry men :(

I would like to note that this story has...

Secret Relationship

Swearing/Cussing/Cursing

NFSW topics (such as sex.)

Threats containing death and suicide.

You and Tenya have been dating for a while, exactly 6 months.

YOU = PINK

TENYA = BLUE

OTHERS = ORANGE

6 months ago was a wild ride, I mean, you (Y/N) were getting over a harsh relationship with ? who left you thinking you couldn't love again. Of course, Tenya comes in (best friends at the time) and you could finish that story.

Well anyhow, you two didn't want everyone to know - especially the Bakusquad. You both only told Ochaco, Tsuyu and Izuku which the secret was safe with.

You shared a dorm room with Katsuki, which was quite scary since he would always barge into your room without knocking - but for some reason he got mad at you when you didn't knock on his door? Odd guy, Katsuki really is odd even though he keeps this "I'm a badass" attitude.

Tenya usually lets you come to his dorm room, which he shares with Tsuyu - so that was okay for you to come over. Except for the one time you almost got caught losing your virginity.

But the one night Tenya insists to come over, Katsuki stops him in the doorway - Katsuki was going out while Tenya was going in.

"What are you doing here, four eyes? It's like 7." Katsuki asked, looking Tenya up and down.

"But, it's 6:30?" Tenya replied.

"Of course you'd know that, smartass. Why are you here anyways? We don't even talk-" Katsuki then paused and started growing a smirk. "You're here to see Y/N, aren't you?"

"What?! No, that's crazy...why would you even think that?" Tenya said awkwardly, chuckling nervously.

"Come on, glasses. Stop playing dumb, I know you're here to see Y/N."

"Fine, I am. But what's it to you?"

"It's kind of odd, no?" Katsuki laughed, looking Tenya up and down once more, leaning against the doorframe.

"Me and Y/N's actions behind their door is none of your business, Katsuki."

"Oh? I never said anything about that, glasses. That kind of intrigues me. Are you planning something?"

"Just be quiet Katsuki, this isn't any of your business anyways." He sighed, fixing his glasses by pushing them up on his nose bridge.

"Maybe it isn't," Katsuki began, "But Y/N is my dorm mate. So whatever their business is, I also have the right to know. Especially if someone is over."

"Okay, well me and Y/N's relationship isn't any of your business."

"Mmkayyy. I'll find out sooner or later, four eyes."

Tenya rolled his eyes when Katsuki assured he'd find out - he couldn't find out until you two became public about your relationship.

He made his way to your room, knocking.

You let him in by calling, "Come in!"

"Yeah, I'll be doing that later." Tenya sighed, "I didn't know Katsuki was your roommate. He's more obnoxious than in class when he's at home."

"You're acting like I don't know that." You rolled your eyes.

"I missed you." Tenya muttered, kicking off his shoes and climbing into your bed, beside you. "Have you been studying?"

"Hell no." You grunted, "The tests are in a month, Ten."

"So? Darling, studying is important."

"I know that. But a month before is a bit outrageous."

"Fine..." Tenya breathed, nuzzling himself into your shoulder.

"Are you alright?" You asked.

He nods into your shoulder, raising his head and kissing your neck softly.

"Tenya...there's no way you're alright. You're never this clingy..."

"I can't love you?"

"Now now...I never said that, Tens. Don't twist my words."

He raised his head and scooted himself up, kissing your lips.

"I need it."

"Need what?"

"You." You've never heard Tenya's voice so...possessive? Tenya didn't mind sex. But he didn't love it, especially because he felt awful for making you scream. But he has never been so sexual.

"Tens..." You mumbled.

"Mmph...you know love, I've been missing out on my studies as well."

"Wow, what a rebel." You said sarcastically.

"Shush."

"You know I'm joking."

"You're being stubborn."

"Damn, this might be opposite day. You're in heat and I'm the stubborn one."

"Yeah, well...I've been missing my studies to learn other things."

"As in?"

"How to finger you right."

"What..?" You asked softly, did you hear him correct? To finger you...right?

"I know you're pleased when I finger you, but I don't know much about female genitalia...so, I wanted to learn things like where some parts are."

"Did you see pictures?!"

"Only a drawing or two, but relax. They don't look as good as yours."

"Well, what did you learn?"

"Where a clitoris is, and how to hit good spots."

"Tens!"

"What?"

"Never mind." You mumbled, clearly flustered but grateful he learned to make you happy.

"Well...may I try?"

"Fingering me?"

"If you're alright with it."

"I...fine."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Tens."

"You don't look very sure."

"I promise, I'm sure."

"Okay darling." He said softly, fixing his glasses before parting your legs and kissing you softer than his words. "If it hurts...tell me. Please."

"Okay."

And so he lowered your pants, looking at you for confirmation before taking them off completely. He then rubbed your clit while whispering praise in your ear - rubbing gently through your panties. He started kissing you (with tongue) while rubbing faster and a bit more roughly.

"Fuck..." He breathed heavily from the kissing, he lowered his hand in your panties to feel your wet pussy. "You're so wet...it's sloppy-wet..."

"Sorry..."

"Don't be." He said before taking off his glasses and laying them on the dresser beside your bed, he put his head in between your legs as he started spitting through your panties and licking through them.

"Tens..." You moaned, trying to be quiet so Katsuki wouldn't hear, your pussy was twitching and throbbing, your legs were trembling as you held his head closer to your pussy. He then started sliding off your panties, revealing your pussy, dripping with your cum.

"Oh god..." He gasped. He slowly started suckling on your clit as he brought a finger to your pussy and stuck it in slowly, this made your head jerk back along with moaning loud. He then stopped suckling, fingering you and hitting all the right spots. He made you close to your release, fingering you fast as he dirty talked you, still praising you at the same time. Since Tenya was nicely manicured he wasn't awful at fingering, but hot fingers are a bit thick, so it hurts sometimes. - He pulled out his finger as soon as you were close to cumming. "Ah-ah." He said, getting close to your ear. "You're saving your cum for my dick." He whispered, then unzipping and unbuttoning his pants, rubbing his bulge through his boxers in your dripping wet pussy. You never knew Tenya could be this dirty, especially with you. But, he felt your wetness soak into his boxers, before he revealed his cock that was clearly more trimmed, barely any hair. There was also some precum already dripping from his dick. "You haven't even started suckling on me, dear. And I'm already dripping, do you see what you do to me?" He whispered, before pulling his pants and boxers down further, pressing against your pussy's entrance, you gasp-moaned and he shushed you with his finger and a small "Shhh..." Right as he started pounding into you, whispering compliments to you and praise. "Take it baby..." He moaned softly, almost like a whimper. He started whimpering right as he was about to cum, pounding faster and harder, sweating a bit and going super fast before he released his seed, collapsing on your chest.

[writingsbyzuzu]

the alchemy!

chapter four

summary: Wallace gives Hasan the 411, and he decides tiny dancer is a person he has to get to know better, Wallace has a birthday party

warnings: absent mom mentioned

One dance. The understatement of the century.

It had been an hour, and you, Cedar, and Auggie were still tearing it up on the dancefloor, several drinks consumed. Hasan had been hoping to have more conversation, but alas, you hadn't even so much looked in his direction.

It's Wallace who notices him, approaching him after ordering a drink. He sees Hasan watching the dancing. "You could join us, that would be more entertaining than watching, as such in most aspects in life," Wallace teases, winking. Hasan laughs. "No, I prefer talking."

"No offense man, but why did you come to the club?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't human sacrifice my friend," Hasan jokes, but he continues to watch you dance, this time to Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne.

Wallace sees Hasan eyeing you. "Uh huh. Sure. Definitely not because of our little friend out there on the dance floor."

Hasan turns to look at Wallace, who has a giant smirk plastered on his face. He leans, as if going to tell some monumental secret.

"She's single, you know." Hasan raises his eyebrows. "Really? She's not into any of you guys?" Wallace cocks his head. "Well, I didn't say that. I just said she's single." He winks again. "Who is she into?" The words leave Hasan's mouth before he can even register it.

Wallace shakes his head. "I can tell you about the guys, but that's the most I'll give you, I don't want her to strangle me," he jokes.

Hasan makes a gesture to continue.

"The guys she's dancing with, Cedar and Auggie. Auggie and her have been friends since like, fourth grade. Family friend or whatever. He's super into Lydia. He's been too shy to say anything, she's been trying to help him for months. She's uhh, not a very good wingman. Cedar's gay. I know, from well..."

Hasan gives a knowing nod and a smirk. "Nice."

"I'd say the only two who might give you some resistance are Ridley and Ellis."

"Yeah, I've noticed Ellis," Hasan frowns.

"Ellis has noticed you," Wallace responds. Hasan turns his gaze back to the dancefloor where Ellis has joined your group to dance.

"No one really knows what sort of thing is going on with them, but still, I can't imagine you have no shot...for reasons I can't enclose. Frankly, I'm not a huge fan of the guy, but I was outvoted." Wallace has a look on his face Hasan cannot decipher.

"Why not?"

Wallace shifts expressions. "Secrets for another time. And Ridley only has a minor crush, but he is so....she wouldn't be into him. Plus, the guy is so friendly that if you say something, he'd back off. Trust me, I know them."

"Why are you telling me all this, anyways?"

"Look man, Ellis is my friend, but I gotta look out for our girl first. And I don't know you, but something isn't right about the two of them. And she seems to somewhat not mind you enough to not tell Blaire to stop inviting."

The two men share a nod of understanding.

"Come to my birthday party. It's in our dorm living room slash kitchen. Next Friday. Consider it an invitation of friendship. We're friends now. Don't think, just say yes."

"Alright." And with that, Wallace grabs his drink and sinks back into the dancing crowd.

Hasan doesn't see you later that night. He doesn't see you until days later. The campus has to be smaller than he really thinks, because there you both were in the dining hall that Tuesday.

He sees you once again working, your plate full of food, only a few bites taken. Do you ever do anything other than work your ass off when sober?

He approaches the table, but this time you notice. "Meathead."

"Tiny dancer." You gesture to the chair across you. "Sit." Well, he thinks, at least he was invited this time.

"You're being nicer this time," he points out. "Yeah well, you had a point. I guess our roommates dating means a lot of time together...so why not try to be nice? That and Wallace said he invited you to his birthday, so I have to be nice. A friend of Wallace's is a friend of the group."

Hasan thinks back to what Wallace said of Ellis, but pushes it to the back of his mind and nods. "Your food is going to be cold," he looks at your barely eaten plate. "Oh fuck, you're right." You shovel food into your mouth.

"What are you working on this time?"

"Quiz. Aquatic toxicology."

"What bizzaro ass classes are you taking?" he asks incredulously. "Aquatic toxicology," you repeat. "We got a genius here, ladies and gentlemen," he gestures at you with his hand. "Stop calling me that," you chastise him, chewing your pancake. "I will when you stop impressing me."

"What are you eating?" you ask, seeing his bowl full. "Rice, boiled egg, grilled chicken." You scrunch up your face.

"What?"

"I know I'm not supposed to assume shit, but are you a gym bro?" He nods before sighing, "Don't say it, Tiny Dancer."

"That's so frat bro."

He flicks a piece of rice at you, you jump at it, a small squeak coming out of your mouth. "I told you not to say it," Hasan shakes his head. The both of you laugh, and go back to eating.

The rest of the lunch is filled with silence, as Hasan sits quietly to let you work. When he's done, he quietly tells you goodbye, heading to his next class.

When Friday rolls around, he and Ludwig decide to just walk across campus to Murphy Hall, unsure of any set time. When they get to the living room, the whole group is, of course, already there. Several people were playing Smash Bros. Ludwig lights up at the sight. "Dibs on who's next," he calls out, flopping onto the couch next to Blaire.

Hasan sees you're in the back portion, making food. He wanders over to you. "Tiny dancer." You look up at him, your hands holding ground beef, you look incredibly amused. "Meathead," you respond, lifting up the beef. He laughs, leaning against the counter. "What are you working on?" Hasan sees various ingredients and seasonings on the counter. "Meatloaf! My favorite!" Wallace yells. You give a small nod of confirmation, continuing to mix vegetables into the meat.

"Wallace has been begging me to make meatloaf for weeks. Before break, even." "You cook a lot for them?" Hasan asks, grabbing a chunk of carrot that hadn't been mixed in, eating it. "Hey. And yes, I do. I don't know a lot, but meatloaf was one of the only things my mom taught me."

Birdie turns from the couch. "I thought you didn't have a mom," she states. Hasan raises an eyebrow at this, and you freeze. You hated bringing up your mom. "Not anymore, I don't, thanks Birdie." She frowns and turns back around. "What happened?" Hasan asks. "I don't talk about it, I just don't have a mom. Me, my dad, my sisters. That's it. After the age of 13, no mom."

"It's an uber rare secret, she won't tell anyone, even her best friend," Ellis says pointedly, having come up to the kitchen counter at the sight of you two.

"That's because it's no one's business, except mine." And with that, you're slapping the mixture onto a pan. Hasan remains quiet. When you get done with your portion of the cooking, you wash your hands and flop onto a couch. Hasan sits next to you. "I'm sorry to ask. It was personal, I shouldn't have pried."

Your shoulders softened. "I'm sorry too. I've been kind of a dick in general to you. With the meathead shit. Frat bros are kind of dicey to me, as a concept."

"I can tell," Hasan humorlessly chuckles. "My dad doesn't make a lot of money. The school gives me a scholarship, full ride. I work hard. And a lot of the guys I see from frats, they're rich guys with daddy's money, who pay for people to like them, and coast off of that, not working hard. So many of them."

"Would it offend you if I was a daddy's money guy?"

You're silent.

"Look, a lot of frat guys, and guys here in general, are like that. But I work hard too. And I'm not, you know, a total dick. And I can prove that to you."

You two eye each other a moment. Then you slowly nod. "Alright then. Friends? On a conditional basis?" You hold out your hand to shake.

"What are the conditions? I can't take a deal without understanding the ramifications." Classic Political Science major, you think.

"The moment you act like a dick, we're back to a basic non hating truce."

"Only if you stop calling me meathead. New nickname. One that's not derogatory."

"Deal." You shake on it. "I'll sleep on the new nicknames. See what my noggin can come up with."

Your phone buzzes.

ellis 🎸💙: do you need me to save you from the jock

you: no it's chill we're bros now

ellis 🎸💙: seriously? you barely just met him

you: if blaire and wallace fuck with him so do i

You see Ellis look at his phone as if you just texted him a nuclear code.

ellis 🎸💙: whatever

ellis 🎸💙: me personally i think he's sus

ellis 🎸💙: stares at u like ur naked

you: you look at birdie like that all day n she's dating jason

ellis 🎸💙: don't be like that

ellis 🎸💙: it's not like that ace u know it

ellis 🎸💙: meet me outside in 5

you: no. helping wallie w his cake soon. soz.

You put away your phone, upset. Hasan sees this shift. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just some drama."

Hasan pretends he didn't notice the contact name.

[jeudibeudibea]

hi folks i wanted to share my ponysona that my BSBFF* @helloitsmesatin made for me :) (these ones i drawed though, not her)

gander at Burgravine Cherryhop Rosenhuf von Kirschhof!!!!!!

her mane is, like, SUPER long, so she has it up in a bun held by a little bat clip. also, she has vitiligo (woah just like me!!!! it's almost like she's my ponysona or something). her cutie mark represents her creative nature and artisanship :) also cherries!!! her cutie mark isn't actually super visible given the vitiligo and all, but it looked like this when she got it, she swears. i couldn't decide between the button + baby pin, or sewing thread + pin cushion so have both.

* Big Sister Best Friend Forever

LORE DUMP UNDERNEATH!!! (i'm a worldbuilder in my spare time, creating lots of lore is what i do best :)

she's a batpony unicorn who lives with her sister Morning Dew on the edge of Ponyville (they are not related, she just found her out in the street like that video of the guy and the stray cat). she comes from a (semi-)noble family but left home some years ago because her family's isolationism made life dull and difficult; being the only mare unicorn in the family and thus the target of their ire probably didn't help lol.

artist's rendition of las hermanas del leche - drawed by Dew, it hangs on Cherryhop's fridge next to a macaroni art self-portrait (also made by Dew).

since leaving Kirschhof, Cherryhop works as a jack-of-all-trades artisan and gets by selling various trinkets and offering whatever the pony equivalent of IT services are. no foalsitting, though. she kind of hates kids. not in a weird way, kids just make her anxious. too much responsibility for this mare. they love her for her trinkets, though.

random facts about Cherryhop that have absolutely no source whatsoever (i made them up):

sometimes ponies call her Hop. somepony called her Chop once, though.

she is kinda good at buckball; she prefers drawing.

her "father" is an ominous swirling orb that hums and lives in the rafters of her garage. it might not be sentient, but she talks to it like it is. nopony else does, they're all kind of scared of it.

her magic didn't used to look so desaturated, but the vitiligo on her horn kinda affected that. darn.

she has a second roommate: a crystal pony from whom she chisels crystal chunks for rent monthly. this pony lives in the shed in her backyard, and she doesn't actually know her name. i don't know if this is how crystal ponies work, but Hop already spent 27 bits on the hammer and chisel, so i have to leave it like this.

her mother is Margravine Lilacia Summersprout von Kirschhof. she is based on my mom. minus the rudeness. keep the sass though. Hop had to get it from somewhere. the freckles were unfortunately not inherited.

she calls Morning Dew a "driplet-head" when she gets mad.

she makes music sometimes. kinda why her cutie mark is shaped like musical notes. i'm so creative.

she is a big fan of Trixie Lulamoon and tries to attend as many of her shows as she can afford (she usually just sneaks in anyhow). once, Hop got to meet the great and powerful Trixie after one and showed her how to count cards. Trixie, a respectable member of society with no prior record of criminal activity, appreciated learning how to scam casinos of bits.

despite popular belief, Hop is NOT an alicorn. when she first moved to Ponyville, a series of events led to Princess Twilight Sparkle breaking and entering into Hop's cottage to investigate the rumours of the "new alicorn". for unrelated reasons, Hop is no longer a fan of Princess Twilight Sparkle.

she enjoys sandwiches :)

the existence of Cherryhop confuses Yona.

[softlittleheartsandsparkles]

I feel like i've asked you before to do a trigger warning when mentioning bpd even mildly. I have trauma, my abuser was a borderline. So reading even a tiny bit about bpd really triggers me. can you please do a tw when mentioning bpd. it would make this space much more friendly to me.

I feel like i've received this request before, yes. But I think my answer at the time was no, and I'm still at a big no. I don't really feel comfortable with tagging a complex mental disorder with a tw. Because I briefly mention it with no details. I feel like that idea itself might give someone mixed ideas. And who's to say next someone doesn't ask for psychosis to be tagged because it makes them think of their abuser. That's not fair to anyone suffering with psychosis. It not far for anyone with bpd, and its not fair for anyone with any other diagnose who could then be asked to be flagged. My biggest advice is always to just unfollow if you don't like what i'm posting. You can take better charge of your triggers more than asking someone to tag. & trust me there's many really cute blogs that don't speak about disorders. I also don't mind my follower count going down. Please take care of your health. Trauma talk: My ex use to beat his head & fists against walls, doors and other object when he got upset with me, blamed me for it. It became "Your making me do this" 'I can't help it, I have to do this" "just stop talking so I can stop." (and stop talking could be me begging/asking him at the time to stop. if I didn't say anything he'd say i'm being heartless and selfish. I should be begging him to stop. there was no winning.) He also would call it "autistic stimming" if I brought up how uncomfortable it makes me. So not only was it my fault he'd bashed his head/hands against walls/other solid objects, in disagreements. (I.e. he'd say "No. I do not want *bashes head* you to go to school.") but also he's stimming so i'm not being accepting/ableist. To him it didn't matter he'd do it to highlight a disagreement. He'd do it if I brought home veggies for myself to eat, (he hates veggies, said they trigger his sensory processing disorder. Like visible seeing them was enough. Hed complain he'd have to toss his food out now because they share the same fridge space. so i'm a "selfish bitch" for doing this to him. However oddly enough he never did this when our vegan roommate moved in. She told us prior to moving she's vegan and these specific outbursts stopped. so... hm.) If want to do things for school (field trips for marine biology. he'd get upset so I wouldn't go.) or want to buy myself something with my money or wanna hangout with friends. These are things we'd disagree about, he'd bash his head and it be the end of whatever. Cause he'd go until he's red. It also didn't matter if I said "Okay, I won't." it became a "well I have to do this now, you made me." He did the same thing to a roommate/ex roommate. Our ex-roommate was in the process of moving out, my ex (bf at the time) tried to convince him to stay, when the guy said no, and went to his room to collect his things, my ex then walked into his room and bashed his head into the wall, going "YOUR MAKING ME DO THIS." in some failed hopes the guy would stay. The guy left, came back with his dad the next day and my ex sulked in our shared bedroom, didn't come out to say goodbye to the guy or anything. The reason why I bring this up, isn't just to be like, I got trauma. Its actually to say I personally don't think about him any time I read someone's bio that mentions autism. I don't automatically think this or that person is going to be like him. (There's also the fact I believe I may be autistic too. but idk xD) I personally separate people from diagnoses, and wait for people to act out poorly & address that. And some people, they never act out poorly, so that assumption wouldn't fit. & that means I could miss out on friendships due to a biased I could easily believe. So, Rather than assume "all people with (blank) act like (blank)" . I don't. He's signed up in my brain as his behavior is just his. He's just an asshole. Diagnose don't excuse it, or even explain it, I feel like he used terms to sneak by, but yeah. I personally don't blame diagnosis for crappy behavior. I blame the individual.

[tryst-art-archive]

Context: 2009 - The Hiatus Begins

Content Warning:

I need to talk about suicide extensively for this one, including a detailed description of an attempt. The whole thing's going under a "Read More" for folks' safety, so do exercise caution.

My memory is pretty spotty. (Depression will do that to you.) Thus far, I've been using the records I have--the stuff in this archive itself--to prompt my memory and correct spots where my mental timeline is off. 2009 is inconsistent in the records, so there are places where things I think there should be evidence of I can't find any evidence of at all, making me less sure of the timeline. The haziness for this context post is going to be especially bad, but it's what I remember being the case.

Surviving Isn't the Hard Part.

The hard part is what you do after you survive.

I planned to die; I didn't plan to live. I had gone through the motions expected of me to keep the peace and prevent suspicion, but on the eve of my 18th birthday, I went to bed still alive with my heart in my throat, despair in my mind, and fury in my gut.

I was still alive, and that meant I had failed.

That's the point I need to hammer home for you: I failed.

Regardless of whatever today!me thinks or what anyone else thinks, the truth of the matter is that I saw the fact that I was alive as the greatest failure of my life. It crushed my ego, whatever fragile self-worth I had left. I now knew that I was a coward.

The Attempt

I think I said before that I never made an attempt in '08, but after thinking about it I'm not sure if that's true or not. I did make a genuine suicide attempt in the 2008-2009 school year, but I don't know if it happened on the '08 side or the '09 side. I'm only sure it was in that time span because it happened in my first boyfriend's dorm room.

First Boyfriend's dorm was a suite set up but his bedroom was shared with a roommate. On the relevant night, I was sleeping in First Boyfriend's bed with him, and BF's Roommate was asleep in his bed. First Boyfriend was also asleep, but I couldn't sleep.

I don't know why I was upset that night. I remember tightness in my chest, tears, despair, but I don't remember a reason. I don't think it was anyone's fault; it was probably a random spike. I didn't need reasons to want to die back then. Whatever the cause, as I lay beside First Boyfriend, the urge to kill myself overtook me, and I slowly and cautiously got out of bed. BF's Roommate didn't wake, and I don't think First Boyfriend did either.

First Boyfriend had a lot of pocket knives. (He liked knives.) I knew one of them was on his desk--which was in that room--and so I went to the desk, rummaged until I found a knife, and I tried to slit my wrists.

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't bring myself to break skin. The fear of pain was too strong; I lacked the necessary determination. I was a coward: that's how I saw myself, and I repudiated myself for my weakness.

I wept, gave up, put the knife down, and crawled back into bed. Eventually I fell asleep.

I'm not sure if I told anyone about this after. I think I told First Boyfriend, but I'm not sure. Even if I did, it probably didn't matter. He was resigned to my eventual suicide.

When we broke up after a year and a half of dating, he gave me that knife as a parting memento. I still have it. It's broken.

Turning 18

I can't remember a ton about my birthday, but what I do remember is disassociating (or maybe it was derealization?). My memory of that day is either photographs I looked at later or it has an almost letterbox effect, as if I was watching the world through a screen.

I remember being numb, despairing, lost at sea. I remember being struck by everyone around me doing good cheer and birthday celebration while I felt hollow. I remember going through the motions, and I remember that it seemed like maybe it was visible that something was off, but I don't remember if there was any follow up.

The day-of celebration was my immediate family, my bestie, and my bestie's partner who was a close friend of mine and who ultimately emotionally abused both me and my bestie. I have a memory of looking into her face during the event and getting the sense, through her eyes, that she could tell something was wrong with me. That was one of the things about our relationship; there was a tacit line between us, unspoken things we seemed to only have in common with each other and never addressed directly.

I remember there was a big, special present, but I can't remember what it was now. A scanner? A DSLR? A console? I don't know. I just vaguely remember getting a big present and recognizing that if I'd gotten it even a week before I would've been over the moon, but as I was at that moment, I couldn't feel anything. I remember thinking I should feel guilty, but I didn't have access to that emotion either.

You're Alive. Now What?

I didn't know. There wasn't an answer to the question, and I don't think anyone knew I'd been planning to die. If I remember correctly, I'd been deliberately hiding that plan because I intended to follow through; communicating it would've made it possible to be thwarted.

So, there wasn't anyone to step up and say, "Let me help you find your way." I wasn't about to admit my failure to anyone; I felt ashamed of it, and I think I knew, too, that others would take my survival as a good thing, and I couldn't stomach praise for my failure.

If you ever find yourself helping someone who has suicidal thoughts, Do Not Panic.

No one wants to upset other people, see them freak out, feel like an inconvenience, feel othered by the distress they're causing someone for *checks notes* being in enough internal pain to want to fucking die. We want to be treated like people, and in the times that I've found myself helping other suicidal people, I've found it more effective--more stabilizing--to treat the suicidal ideation like a common, everyday problem. (To me it is that, so this is easy for me, but I know it would need to be very intentional for others.) You have to let the person feel like they aren't an oddity, like they're accepted not as this massive show of "LET ME CONVINCE YOU" but as just an everyday person. Let them feel normal while you help them find a productive outlet or get the help they need. Don't deny their agency; be a guide, not a lecturer.

When I don't know what to do and feel like I don't have the agency to do things that I would like, I default to whatever I was already doing, to habits. So I started going through the motions.

I think this happened next, but I'm not sure.

I can't find evidence of this, and there's bits of the memory that don't make sense for it to have occurred at this time, but likewise I can't see how it could've occurred at another time. Probably I'm merging multiple memories, but I'm not sure. I'm going with my gut, basically.

The weekend following my birthday, a group of friends and I went to an Under 21 club in Providence, RI, and I do remember that being genuinely fun.

I had never gone in for the spendy, showy celebrations associated with the middle class high school experience. I didn't get excited about driving--I was mortally terrified of it--to such an extent that after failing two driving tests I gave up completely and decided I'd just never drive. I didn't want to be in charge of a several ton death machine; I didn't want other people's lives in my hands.

I didn't do a sweet sixteen, and while I always went to the formal school dances because I love dancing, I didn't feel the need to go hard on my dresses until senior prom. (Friends I'd met through my bestie's college experience helped me pick that one out, and I wound up with something I genuinely loved, that I still have stored away as a keepsake. I found excuses to wear it over the years.)

But 18 I felt was an important age. It meant adulthood, it meant voting power, and those things were worth celebrating, even if the fact of my being alive was not. My parents had asked if I wanted to do anything special--I'd been crapping out on birthdays for a while, I think--and so I proposed "me and my friends go dancing."

We wound up dressed to the nines, taking a limo to and from the venue, and with a large group of girls that included high school friends, my bestie, I think friends from my bestie's college, and my cousin. (I don't think First Boyfriend was there. This is one of the points that makes me question the timing of this memory; my behavior isn't consistent with someone who has a boyfriend. Maybe we weren't actually dating yet? I just don't know. It's all jumbled.)

The club was seedier than expected, but not properly dangerous. We had fun and danced our feet off. I had genuine fun; I was alive in a good way. The only down point I remember is a couple of guys who started grinding on a couple of us. One of us had trouble shooing the guy bothering her away, and I remember a vague, negative interaction wit the one grinding on me, which I think had to do with him having Expectations I was never going to fulfill. (I was very inexperienced at this time, so I didn't think to anticipate that kind of thing.)

Still, it was overall a positive memory, and I think it was the first brush I had with the idea that I was attractive to other people. My bestie had found me attractive, I knew, but I somehow felt like that didn't count. We were so close emotionally, as people, I think, that I didn't see it as me being attractive so much as our bond being that special and meaningful.

Summer '09

Graduating High School

The ceremony was boring, people were emotional, I was, I think, conflicted. On the one hand it was easy to get caught up in the high emotions, but on the other I'd been planning for several years to break away from everyone I knew in high school the moment it was feasible to do so, and the graduation marked that line. It meant I was free.

I have little scraps of memory about this: photos taken, brief moments here and there. I think I liked my classmates the most I ever had on this day--especially folks I'd only been loosely connected to. I remember vaguely a feeling that I could've spent my time differently, better, but dismissing that because the idea of freedom mattered so much more. I just wanted out of the life I'd been living.

Set the Stage

We need to talk about First Boyfriend a bit to set this stage.

First Boyfriend had major depression and ADHD, and he'd attempted suicide once, before I met him. He was medicated, and it was a delicate balance. We'd gotten together a bit hastily--because of how my personal crazy about romantic relationships functioned, but I didn't realize I had that yet--and a month or two after we started officially dating, he stopped taking his meds because the insurance he'd been on vanished out from under him, and he fundamentally couldn't afford the meds.

He was a very different person off the meds. He'd been very kind, patient--teddy-bear-like. Without the meds there was more of an edge to him, and his depression and my depression merged to make both of us worse. It's not that we were cruel to each other, although we made many mistakes in our naivete, but the sets of symptoms just didn't play nice together. Mine were, after all, completely unmanaged. (When I'd raised the idea with my mum that I had depression, earlier in high school, she'd dismissed the idea as just teenage hormones, and that had been the end of that.)

First Boyfriend's hometown was quite far from his college and during school breaks, he'd avoid going back to his hometown pretty often. The summer of 2009, he stayed in Massachusetts by doing some work for my bestie's dad (construction work), and so the first half of the summer I spent sneaking over to where he and my bestie were working (it was walking distance from my house) and bothering them until I got scolded.

The Roar

One of the times that I was visiting them during their lunch break, I began speaking to my desire to die. I don't remember exactly what I said other than it involved me wanting to die and identifying myself as worthless, even insisting on it after Bestie and First Boyfriend attempted to counter my points.

Bestie, who had been subject to my depression and suicidal ideation for the past seven or so years, finally snapped, and he roared at me.

I don't mean screamed or shouted. I mean it was a viscerally primal roar, and it genuinely triggered my fight or flight response.

It was pure instinct. The response flipped flight, and I bolted, running to the second floor of the building with the intent to climb out a skylight.

Once at the skylight, my brain kicked back in and I realized that even if I could figure out how to get the screen off the skylight, I had no idea how to climb down off the roof, and anyway I didn't hear anyone following me.

I was standing on the bed under the skylight, so I sat down.

I pulled the comforter on the bed around me, huddled in its darkness, and cried.

First Boyfriend came up and talked to me gently. I don't remember what he said; I know Bestie was worried and scared. After I'd calmed down a bit, we went downstairs and Bestie and I made up, hugged I think.

I don't remember what happened immediately afterwards, but The Roar was important. It stayed with me in a way that consolations and reassurances simply could not. For a very long time after that, when I had a genuine desire to die, The Roar would come back to me and functionally remind me of the depths of my Bestie's care for me and implicitly how much pain I'd put him in if I simply vanished. That wasn't something I couldn't do to him.

The Roar worked as a failsafe for years.

The Breakup That Wasn't

Eventually First Boyfriend returned to his hometown for the remainder of the summer. The plan was that he'd come back early for the next semester and stay with me and my family for about a week.

While he was away, I had trouble getting in contact with him, and my Relationship Crazy made me very insecure. I had an unconscious expectation in my head that we would be in contact all the time--what I was used to with my bestie--and when that didn't manifest, I began to be upset.

At the same time, the distance from him gave me opportunity to reflect on how the relationship had been going--and I pretty quickly realized I didn't want to continue it. He wasn't the person he'd been when I got into it, and I didn't think what we had going on was what I wanted.

I talked about this with my bestie and firmly made the decision to end the relationship, but I didn't want to do it over the phone. I decided that I'd wait until after the week he was staying with me, and then I'd do it. That way no plans would get interrupted, and I wouldn't do the "Bad Awful Evil" thing of breaking up over the phone.

When First Boyfriend arrived, though, the proximity gnawed away at my resolve. By the end of the week, the high of closeness reversed my decision; I'd keep trying to make the relationship work. I never even told First Boyfriend about what I'd entertained while he was away.

But, the damage had already been done. There was a fracture I wasn't addressing.

College

Sharing Space for the First Time

I mentioned before that I didn't want to go to college, that I'd just been going through the motions, sending out applications to keep suspicion off me and otherwise keep the peace. Once I survived to 18, all these things I'd done Because I Have To abruptly became real and a source of stress.

I lucked out in that I was accepted to all but one of the colleges I applied to, and I was subsequently able to attend my first choice--a school I didn't expect to fit in at, but felt I could get by in socially. Still, when it came time to move into their dorms, overlooking Boston Common, I was misery incarnate.

There's a photo of me sitting on the bed in my childhood bedroom right before it was time to leave, and the degree of unhappy is intense. It's not just "Oh this person looks like they're having a bad time." I look like I'm disgusted with everything that has ever been and ever will be. It's absurd.

The room I moved into was shared with two other girls. We had no kitchen--there was a microwave and stove top in the common room but that was it--and the bathrooms were shared across the floor. It was a single room with a bunkbed, a twin bed, three dressers, and three desks. It was cramped.

This is where I remind you that I'm an only child. Other than trips and brief visits to friends or relations, I had never shared a room before.

The girls were plenty nice. One of them was from Dubai, and she was an absolute sweetheart through and through. The other was often out doing her own thing, and while her values and living habits periodically shocked and inconvenienced us, there was no real drama to speak of.

Not having genuinely private space and not having a cat around both messed with me spectacularly. My mental health--which obviously was already poor--tanked harder, and I spent most of my freshman year of college thinking about finding the roof access and jumping off the one-time skyscraper. I generally dismissed this idea by reminding myself that if I did jump off the building, I'd almost certainly hit someone else and kill them, and that wasn't acceptable. Still, I spent a lot of time thinking about how the fall itself would feel. I wanted to feel that.

Socializing Has Never Been My Forte

As with most colleges, the first week at my new college was Orientation, which was designed to both acquaint students with the school and encourage them to meet each other and make friends.

I didn't attend anything that wasn't mandatory.

It was a stupid thing to do, and maybe I knew that (I'm not sure), but part of me was just protesting that I was stuck in this place I didn't want to be in, doing things I didn't want to do. I was supposed to be free after high school, but I wasn't. I was still doing the things that were expected of me because they were expected of me.

And, yes, I know how privileged I was to be in that position, to have that problem. It wasn't something I could see at the time, but I do see the privilege now. That said, the very real problem of my depression and how it was skewing my perception of myself and the world was very real, economics be damned.

In addition to my petty rebellion, I was also simply scared. I didn't know how to socialize with people I didn't already know. I was antisocial, shy, introverted, and fundamentally afraid of people. My social anxiety was high at the best of times, and I didn't have a private space; I didn't have a way to stabilize and center myself such that I could tackle challenges. The very structure of the dorm prevented me from being okay. Doing things that weren't natural to me, that pushed me frighteningly far out of my comfort zone, was a ludicrous ask.

On the plus side, my bestie and his college were easy to get to via public transit, and so I invested all my social spoons in him, First Boyfriend, and the friend group they were part of. Moreover, Bestie, First Boyfriend, and a couple of their friends had moved into their first apartment together, which meant privates spaces and no school rules to worry about. My bestie had even adopted his sister's cats.

I spent as much time at that apartment as I physically could.

Other Hiccups

There were two other major hiccups with my new lifestyle. The first occurred in quite literally my first week at the dorm.

I'd been pretty excited to have Boston Common as essentially my front yard. It was one of the few things I was clinging to as a positive that might make the two years I had to spend living in the school's dorms bearable.

On a sunny day, I went to the common and sat down by a tree to read a book. Within 10 minutes a 30-something man interrupted me and made an overt and predatory attempt to pick me up. I made an excuse, claiming to be meeting friends, and bolted as soon as I could. I never went to the Commons by myself again.

The second hiccup was around food. As mentioned, there was no true kitchen and the only cooking surface was shared with the entire floor which both meant that it needed to be free to be usable and that you had to be where other people were--witnessable--to use it in the first place. Those two factors made it fundamentally unsuable to me.

The school's intention was that every student have a meal plan, and they get their food from the cafeteria. This seemed reasonable to begin with, but it turned out that the food in the college's cafeteria disagreed with me. It wasn't a realistic option, so I started relying on the school's convenience store and cafe--which is to say I was subsisting on bottle coffee, cinnamon raisin bagels, and parfaits.

That's it. That's all I was eating.

I lost an insane amount of weight and got the smallest I've ever been--a mere 125 lbs. I stop eating when I'm depressed, and the food situation fundamentally didn't work for me. I was starving myself without meaning to. Eventually it hit a point where it scared me, and I started making a deliberate effort to eat more food and put weight back on, which was ultimately successful.

That's, incidentally, when I found out that I'm lactose intolerant. Most of the foods I was relying on involved dairy, and I was having nearly constant issues with gas and diarrhea. I wound up at a doctor to see if I had an allergy--celiac was on the table--and we figured out it was the dairy. I set about finding ways to eat dairy anyway, either with Lactaid or careful management of the amount I ate, given it was one of the three or four things in the school I could stomach. I also took to picking up single-serving prepackaged mac & cheese and soup cups that could be microwaved in a minute flat; I could tolerate the common room that long.

A Positive Spot

Embarrassing to admit, but I had never worked a job before college. It wasn't expected of me, and it induced a crying panic to even try to apply to a place, so it simply never happened.

In my freshman year, my extended family swooped in to get me some opportunities at local places, and for a bit I worked under the table at a local theater. I handled the register at a bar open during intermission. There was a Lady Gaga concert there one time, which I didn't get to see, but I did hear, and it was cool.

That job was pretty short-lived though. I felt awkward about it for reasons I can't remember now. Instead, I wound up working in the college's print and copy center, and I worked for them through my entire four years at the school. The copy shop was good for me, I think. I don't remember being resentful of it. Obviously, there were days when I didn't want to get up and go to work, but I don't remember any persistent negative feelings.

There was a time in the print shop when a junior who was friendly with the manager (not a student) stopped by to get some work printed and took note of me. For a while, he would show up and make a point to talk to me, even going so far as to bring me small gifts (juice and chocolate) on one occasion.

I remember parsing, at some point, that he was flirting, and I remember being flattered but bewildered. It wasn't the kind of thing I was used to, and anyway, I had a boyfriend.

My gentle, bewildered rebuffing of this fellow's advances, though, are not the end of his role in this story. He'll be back in 2010.

The Hiatus

The rest of 2009 I don't remember much about. The next things occurring to me as important and relevant happened in 2010. All that's left to discuss is the Hiatus.

The Hiatus was a many-years period of time in which I wasn't drawing much if at all. I doodled in my school notes--it was the only way I could pay attention--and every once in a while, I'd get an itch and draw for a weird burst of a week or a month and then I'd drop off again.

It was also a period of time in which I was basically not on the internet. AIM was pretty much over, and Facebook was a necessary evil for communications with friends. I don't remember when I joined tumblr on @refkins but I think it was sometime in the '10s. Likewise, Insta and Twitter weren't things for me until I started working in game dev in 2014.

All of that's to say that two of the four things that had defined my entire life thus far--internet, art, writing, and video games--had disappeared completely and practically willfully. I fully believed I was no good at art and that I was wasting my time by spending any time on it.

I have so much regret about that, and so much sadness for my past self. I was miserable, but I also had lost a spark almost completely. It turns out that if you mean to die but don't, part of you does still die.

Still, I continued taking photos with an eye toward art, and I was writing--which, to be fair, was the core of my major, but I still felt love for prose. I also hadn't completely lost my attention span for reading yet.

There is one deviantArt post for 2009, and it happens in October. The next post on dA is in 2012.

[wentastray]

so theme & co are done, replies are not. i’m gonna have something to eat since it’s almost 11pm and then i’ll go to bed. not in the mood to talk tbh

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hey sex witch, is bad sex normal? not even bad sex per say, but mediocre? my partner and I have been together for awhile, and the sex is usually great, but the last time it felt kinda off and took a long time for them to finish. they said it was good, but i almost feel like they’re saying that for my benefit because i’m asking. Is there a way to talk about it without making it seem like I’m not enjoying them? I love them and just want to make sure they’re feeling good.

hi anon,

you seem very sweet and exceedingly sincere, which is why I'm delighted to inform you that what you have experienced is possibly the most normal thing on earth.

listen, I get it: you want sex to be awesome every time, because you love your partner and want them to feel good. that's an admirable goal, but an entirely unrealistic one. name me one experience that's perfect every single time you do it. there isn't one; even ice cream is shitty sometimes. there's a local burger place I love that only serves one type of milkshake a day, so if you want one you're putting yourself at their mercy and you're going to have to accept whatever they give you. sometimes (like last week, for instance) it's gonna be fucking bubblegum, and it's going to suck, but that doesn't mean that I won't order from them again - and I still got to enjoy sharing a meal with my housemates even though one portion was outrageously disappointing!

there could be any number of reasons why your partner's head wasn't in the game; it's almost certainly not because of any problem with you. I get the urge to assume something is wrong, but it's ultimately not helpful to either of you - and neither is refusing to listen to your partner when they've told you everything is okay. relationships need trust, and trust means not inferring the worst when you've already been told otherwise.

it's an understandable thing to struggle with, and my wonderful roommate @myspeciallittlewarlock has given me express permission to tap in some advice straight from him. when he and his partner have medium-to-bad sex, his rejection sensitive dysphoria can make it hard not to feel like everything is Very Very Bad - but that's a way that he feels, not an objective truth about the state of his relationship. all feelings and emotional responses are valid, but that doesn't necessarily mean that every emotional response is the correct lens through which to assess a situation.

the best advice I can offer here is the same advice I offer for every relationship: normalize talking about sex before, during, and after - including talking about when it's not hitting right and it might be best to stop in the middle to take a little breather without taking it as a personal affront. you mention wanting to make sure your partner feels good - which is awesome that's the ideal - and the best way to make sure you can know someone authentically feels good is creating a space in which they're unafraid to express when they don't. being able to talk about the bad sex in an honest, neutral way is so, SO important, not least because it's a great way to learn what will work better next time.

because as my beloved roommate also wanted me to point out, there will always be time to try again.

note: this is for sex that's "sort of a letdown" bad. sex that hurts, makes you feel unsafe or bad about yourself, or that happens because you are unable to say no is NOT an inevitability or an acceptable kind of bad.

[selestrophilx]

my friend and i simp over some of the same characters and sometimes i'll just straight up throw a mini fanfic at them so i decided i'll start posting some of them here! my requests are open by the way, i'm just waiting until i get a bit more to answer them all in bulk :))

there's more parts now; 2, 3 & 4

a bit of a forewarning, this isn't written to be neat, its just a silly thing i wrote up in a span of like an hour over discord that i pasted here and edited a bit so LOL

i have been reading a lot of college/roommate aus and suddenly thought of a silly cliche plot that would be a fun trope for scaramouche

two people who absolutely despise each other being forced to be roommates (for the time being..... maybe)

SO LET'S SET THE SCENE.

to start, imagine college au; you decide to stay in the dorms for convenience. the college had announced that a large section of the dorms were being renovated so whatever room you got you had to be grateful for until you were able to request room changes.

it didn't seem like a problem for you! i mean, how bad could it be? if you got a less than ideal room you could handle it for the week or two the renovation would be happening.

to your surprise, the issue wasn't the room... but the roommate.

YOU SEE. SCARA IS A PRICK. this is nothing you didn't know already, but in this AU he is even more mean to you especially for whatever reason. from the moment he opened his mouth near you he's been at the top of your shit-list and will probably remain there for all of eternity.

so when you found out he was the person you had to share a room with until renovations were over????? oh boy...

you only found out the moment he stepped through the door and you two made eye contact.

it was like the world froze once you recognized each other, and then before you knew it you're both bolting out of the door to find a staff member, shoving each other out of the way to get there first.

unfortunately, he wins, and the poor employee he chased down looked terrified.

you catch up with him shortly after and immediately demand a room change, to which he agrees,

"i refuse to share a room with THEM!"

you scoff at him, "well one of us is gonna have to stay in that room! and it's not gonna be me! you already contaminated the room by breathing near it!"

"it's not gonna be me either, all of your gross belongings have already touched everything!"

"my belongings aren't gross, you're one to talk! i can smell you from a mile away!"

and the poor employee is just silently watching like

Ò_Ó???

before saying that they can't do anything about it due to the building's current state. they suggested one of you stay in a hotel for a while!

but you're both broke college students so that's out of the question

SO you both decide to split the dorm in half and make absolutely no eye contact whatsoever, and you can't cross the imaginary line unless its for the kitchen or the bathroom and that's it. this will be your life for about 2 weeks. can't be so bad! it's easy enough!!

no it's absolutely not why are you lying to yourself........... it's miserable.

HE'S SO LOUD.

ON PURPOSE.

he's messy on purpose,

he throws his garbage on your side of the dorm on purpose,

he's an ASSHOLE.

so, one day, you start being one too!! he deserves it!!

you throw empty water bottles at him while he sleeps, hitting him in the head. he wakes up after the third bottle smacks him in the face and sits up to glare at you, just to see you sitting on your bed with a ton of trash beside you.

"what the hell are you doing."

"try to sleep, scara. i dare you."

he tosses the bottles back at you, but you block them with your pillow that you had conveniently placed on the side without all of the trash.

damn, you've come prepared!

he resorts to throwing his pillow at you, which effectively knocks you in the face because it's much heavier than an empty bottle of water.

"hey! what was that for?!"

"why are you asking me? you're the one who was throwing trash at me in the first place! mph--"

you toss his pillow back at him, cutting him off,

"now i'm throwing pillows too!"

then, in the blink of an eye, he's standing up from his bed with a pillow in hand. you copy and quickly grab yours too as he steps over the invisible line to hit you.

but you meet him in the middle and strike first! and suddenly you're having a pillow fight with this prick!!! but... you're having a good time?? you're laughing and he's adorning his own mischievous smile??? WOAH. IMPOSSIBLE. WHAT KIND OF SORCERY IS THIS.

you manage to shove him back to his own side, pushing him far enough that he trips over the side of the bed and lands on it. you stand over him triumphantly, tossing your pillow on his chest for good measure, "hah! i win!"

"you cheated, that's what you did," he grumbles, annoyed that he lost but too exhausted to get back up.

you yawn and collapse on top of him, your head hitting the pillow that you threw at his chest and he attempts to shove you off, "get off of me, idiot, go to your own bed!"

"no, it's covered in trash."

"who's fault is that? go clean it!"

"but i'm tiiirreeeddd."

"ugh. whatever."

you can't see it, but his face is burning red and his heart is racing faster than he's comfortable with as he places his hand on your head and closes his own eyes, drifting off to sleep.

maybe sharing a room with someone you don't like isn't such a bad thing anymore...

[itsmykindoflove]

Good to know we're single.

Genre: cute

Words: 780

Disclaimer: mentions of drink and "being killed"

Notes: Anon, here it is. I based this one in a story that my Singapore friend told me. Hope you like it.

I've never been that type of person to get anything for free in my life, but for the first time I had won a trip to Jeju. I had participated in a raffle at an agency where I always bought travel packages. I was amazed, on cloud nine, until I was told that someone else had also won and I would have to share the trip with them. I accepted, but deep down I wanted to cry, who knows what the person would be like...

We were separated to the island because they would be busy with work, so I arrived first to check in.

-One key only? It's two bedrooms, isn't it? -I asked the receptionist.

-No, miss. We were informed that it would be one room and that it would be a couple.

-One bed then? -I asked and she confirmed. I felt a spike of anxiety overtake me. – Okay, right. And how much would a separate room cost?

-So, the hotel has all its rooms occupied. It's high season. -She explained.

I tried to think of a way to get out of the situation, but for some reason I decided that it would be better to take it easy and keep the room anyway, they could sleep on the couch or on the floor... Whatever.

-Okay, I'll take this room anyway. -I thanked.

The receptionist apologized and made it clear that if I needed anything, I could call and she would provide it. Even a call to the police if I needed.

I went up to my room and organized my things, not long after that my roommate texted saying they were at the hotel and would be going up to our room. My heart pounded, how would I spend the weekend with a strange person on this trip? It’d be less problematic if it were a woman.

When I opened the door, I saw the most handsome guy in my life. It looked like those scenes from a romantic comedy movie, when everything stops and we look into each other eyes and fall in love, but it was real life. We introduced ourselves and arranged the room so that everyone had their own sleeping corner, he was very kind and offered to sleep on the couch.

-What do you think about going to dinner? It’s on me. -He suggested and I accepted.

We went to a very typical restaurant in the area. We talked a lot about our lives, discovered things in common and even what we had that was different. Not only was he handsome, he was very intelligent and polite, he had an elegant sense of humor, his smile was charming, and if I had another shot of soju, I could easily kiss him.

We went back to the hotel and slept until the itinerary started. We went to visit Gongmun Market and Hallim Park and it was fun, more fun than I was expecting... He knew a little about each place and at the end of the day, he took me to Hyeopjae beach.

-You know, I thought you were going to be one of those annoying people who would complain about everything, but you showed me that I was wrong.

-Serious? I didn't know what to expect from you, but I hoped you were a woman. – I said sincerely.

-What? Why?

-Because, you being a woman make me less worried about being killed in the middle of the night. - I said so quickly that I didn’t realize. -I didn't even sleep well last night...

-I got your point; it’s a good one, to be honest. But I'm not a criminal, you can search it, I don't even have a criminal record.

-You better not be a criminal or I'll call the police, without batting an eye. -we laughed, despite being a serious matter.

-I’m giving you my word.

We were silent for a while, just admiring the sunset and enjoying each other's presence.

-Are you seeing someone? -he asked suddenly.

-Huh? No. – I said in surprise. - You?

-No. Good to know we're single. -he laughed.

-What? -I looked at him.

-It's just that. -He scratched the back of his head and looked back at me. -It's just that I wanted to know if you’d like to go out with me after we returned to the city, to get to know each other better...

-Sure. It would be fun.

We spent some more time on the beach, talking and laughing. It felt like we had been friends for so long, it was comfortable to be by his side. And deep inside, I was hoping the trip would go a little slower.

[to-be-a-dreamer]

7 -Elliot

We're not gonna talk about how long it's been since I posted the original prompt for this ask game, just accept it. Also, since it's been a while, I've added new songs to my liked songs playlist, so if I ever talked to you about what song you got, it has since changed.

Eli didn't give me a character but, unsurprisingly, he wants Finch.

7 is Smokey Eyes by Lincoln!

This song is about leaving behind the people and things you love and being forced into a new environment, specifically college. It's about desperately holding onto the things you used to have, like old friends, in an attempt to make the transition easier. And while the speaker is going through all this, their ex-partner has more or less left them behind; they're perfectly happy with their new life and are thriving at their own university.

What I'm thinking for the actual fic is Finch going off to college and, for whatever reason, none of his friends from high school ended up going to the same university as him. Not for any malicious reason, that's just how it worked out. He was fine with it at first. He was happy for all his friends who got into their first or second choice universities and only a little disappointed that none of them seemed to have the same dreams for the future as him. And a bit more disappointed when he found out all of his friends were going to the same university as at least one other person in their group, and that he would be the only one going at it alone. He had always known he was a bit of a black sheep within his friend group when it came to personal interests, but it had never bothered him before.

It wasn't until Finch started searching the incoming freshmen's Facebook page for a roommate that he realized he hadn't had to make a new friend since elementary school. He'd met all of his friends through other friends or forced proximity in group projects. Did he even know how to do it?

The fic would start with a chapter or two about Finch going through his first semester at college without really making any new friends, despite his best efforts. He joins clubs that interest him, talks to his classmates, and invites his randomly-assigned roommate to go with him to campus events. And while he makes a lot of friendly acquaintances that he waves at in passing or has short conversations with before class, Finch finds himself finishing the fall semester pretty lonely. He can't even think of a single person that he'll miss seeing over the break.

It doesn't help that his high school friend group hardly talks anymore. Most of them expanded their little pairs into groups at their new colleges and only message the group chat to send pictures or tell funny stories. They hang out a couple times over Christmas break and Finch spent the entire time jealously listening to all of them swap fun college stories and tell each other about all the new friends they made.

When the spring semester begins, Finch isn't very optimistic. He didn't make a single friend in the first four months of school, so why would the new year be any different?

Well, the new year is different because he has a class with the very loud and very persistent Racetrack Higgins. They share a table in chemistry lab and we would follow the development of their friendship, which begins with very limited conversation in lab. Finch is unintentionally very guarded, subconsciously believing that the reason he hasn't made any friends is that there's something wrong with him.

But, eventually, they start having actual conversations while they work and then start going to the dining hall together for lunch after class. Chem lab is only on Wednesdays but it quickly becomes the highlight of Finch's week. He feels kind of dumb for being so excited about something so simple, but it's basically the only consistent human interaction he has and he does genuinely enjoy talking to Race.

And I don't want to ramble for too long but you can probably guess how it goes anyways. Race ends up introducing Finch to Albert and their other friends and Finch starts enjoying college more, his mental health improves (he hadn't even realized it had gotten bad in the first place), and his grades even get a bit better. All of his life problems aren't magically solved because he made some friends, but life problems are a whole lot easier to face when you have someone in your corner.

There would probably be some other main conflict within the story for a more substantial plot, but Finch's adjusting to college and learning how to enjoy it would be a major part of it.

So yeah, the fic is basically just about finding your place and learning that it's okay to hold onto past memories, as long as you don't let that stop you from making new ones. I don't really know if I've explained it very well so far, but one of the major reasons Finch wasn't able to make actual friends at first is because he was kind of "stuck" in high school. He missed the way things were and didn't want to let that go, but all of his old friends had already started to move on to the next stage of their lives. He also sort of hid away in his dorm room because he was afraid other people would hate him so he subconsciously decided to not even try. Maybe it would have been better if one of his old friends went to the same college as him, maybe it would have been worse, who knows? But Finch has to learn that even though change is scary, and facing new experiences by yourself is hard, he can do it and everyone else is going through the same thing. It's just easier to go through it with someone else.

[marindram]

full transcription of Marin's blog from Omega Mart!

huge thanks to @b0chelly for recording a scroll-through, which i typed this out from. (and warning for Omega Mart lore/story spoilers. second half is in reblog)

Marinknows.best

Location: Seven Monolith Village

Last Login: 12/31/2019

Profile Views: 101,275

About me: I love listening to music and glitter

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June 26, 2018

Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeee!

So 14 feels way different than 13. For real. I think it's because I was expecting 13 to feel different, but sometimes when you expect something it turns out the opposite ya know?

Plus, 13 is like, "I'm new to being a teenager!!"

14 is more like, "I'm becoming the person I want to be." At least that's how I want it to be. I wanted to start this blog as a record of all that.

I should ask Did you guys feel the same way when you turned 13 and 14?

But probably nobody's gonna read this because I'm just a weirdo in the weird dessert. I mean, I know my best friend Jesse is reading this (hi Jesse). Besides her, crickets.

But yeah, if you are reading this and you don't know me - I live in Seven Monolith Village, a teensy tiny town that you've only heard of if you're into aliens or homesteading. And I'm literally stuck. As in, I'm physically unable to leave. My first memories are of all the adults in my life (Charlie, my great-uncle/father-figure - Rose, my what? Roommate? Mother-figure? Pseudo-aunt? All of the above? and my mom, Cecelia. who doesn't live here) telling me that for some reason, there's something wrong with me that makes it so I can't leave a certain radius of where we live. I got older and thought that they were just exaggerating to keep me safe, but then last year I tried. And it was, let's just say not good.

Anyway. That part of my life sucks, but not everything sucks. This year is all about Marin Dram 2.0. Not new, but definitely improved.

And maybe someday, somehow somebody will read this and care about what I have to say. Somebodies, even. Until then, this is Marin Dram signing off and sending my lame contemplations into the void!

July 1, 2018

Things I Want To Do Before I Turn 20 (and some of these will never happen like are literally unable to happen but JUST LET ME DREAM

1. Kiss someone (who???)

2. Meet HTB (kiss him) (jk he would never) (plus meeting him would be enough)

3. Go to Paris

4. Go to Rome (or somewhere cooler in Italy, look up where is the best pasta???)

5. Go to Greenland (why not???)

6. Go to New York City

7. Go to LA (with a dream and my cardigan lol)

8. Go to the Grand Canyon (this isn't mine, but 9, Jesse is sitting right here and she went to the GC when we were 12 and she's like blah blah blah it's my favorite place in the world and you'll love it. I'm doing this so she'll shut up.

9. Live in a normal house with normal rooms → ideally 12 of them: living room AND TV room, kitchen, dining room, 3 bathrooms, 3 bedrooms, study/library.

-plus an upstairs downstairs

-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I got my own

-plus an upstairs/downstairs

-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I get my own room with an actual door. Very into doors.

10. Go to a mall (Jesse says there's a bunch of bonkers ones in Vegas)

11. Make friends who aren't Jesse (no offense, Jesse)

12. Get Cecelia (my "mom") to teach me about business stuff so I can open my own cool coffeeshop/bookstore someday

13. Learn to drive (ask Charlie to teach me, he's obsessed with his truck) (Jesse says she can teach me because she's Little Miss Mechanic and thinks she knows everything about cars but news flash Jesse: you're you get than me)

14. Figure out my signature style- like I want people to send me pictures of things and be like "this just screamed Marin" and for that to be true

15. Liquid eyeliner??

16. I'm stopping here because I just read over all this and want to die/cry because easily 3/4 of these are literally impossible?

17. Kill me

18. Bye

19. Lololol Charlie just came in and I was complaining about this, not being able to leave and stuff, etc and he said that I should visit new places by... reading books?? And I mean I like to read. But dude. That's the dumbest thing I've ever head.

July 30, 2018

Okay so this is what I want my life to look like:

I want a pink room. Not just pink... P I N K. Cool pink wallpaper (floral? jacquard??), pink carpet, lots of pink flowers everywhere, a four-poster bed with a pink silk canopy, lots of cool pink throw pillows. Like, so pink that

people think I'm being sarcastic! Oh, and BOOKS. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and some of the shelves have, like, STUFF on them that isn't books, like gifts people gave me, or things I've collected on my JOURNEYS. You know, normal stuff that people who live on normal places and do normal things have.

If I lived in in this room, it'd be in awhite three-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac (did you know "culs-de-sac" is the plural? Not "cul-de-sacs"? crazy) and I'd wear very classic girly clothes and my hair would always do what I wanted it to. It'd be one of those towns that people call small, but it's actually a city. just one with a kinda small, cozy feeling. Somewhere that gets cold enough to wear cute jackets but not so cold I have to to like, shovel my driveway. Not a non-place with like 100 people where you can't even go outside without going crazy.

August 2nd, 2018

I guess I should explain where I live, for all my avid fans out there! (lol) (hello??)

So like... I don't live on Earth. At least, not the Earth you think of when you think of EARTH. I live in some some weird off-brand version of Earth called the Forked Earth where there are aliens and magic wells of magic energy and everything is MAGIC but like the crappy kind of magic, where the sun never fully rises and some goo called "runoff" has made everything wacky and oh yeah, my mom is responsible for that and everyone here hates her!! LOL

Also, I can't leave! Like, literally can't! Rose says I'm a "special child of Source" and that's why but that LITERALLY explains tells me nothing, in fact it just raises further questions that no one can seem to answer! AHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway, the last time I tried to leave I felt. When I try to leave I feel like I'm being pulled back by something, like you know those old cartoons where someone's on stage doing something dumb and then someone offstage pulls them away with a giant shepard's crook? It felt like that, and when I opened my eyes I was back in 7 Monolith Village. UGH.

I know this sounds crazy!!!!! But believe me when I say that I am the least crazy person here. Also, """here""" is C R A Z Y. Runoff has made everything the bad kind of psychedelic and then people here actually DRINK IT! Not only do I not DRINK THE STUFF THAT HAS MADE THE WORLD INSANE, I also do not talk to aliens (or whatever Nula are) like Rose or believe crazy conspiracy theories like Charlie, so I believe that qualifies me as the most normal person in the Forked Earth, thank you for this honor, I accept this award with humility and grace!

September 4, 2018

I had the weirdest dream last night?? I was swimming in a pool full of cereal, and when I came up for air, my mom was pouring milk on my head like she was rinsing my hair. She had her hand over my face like I was a little kid and she was shielding me from soap getting in my eyes.

Anyway I have no idea what it's supposed to mean. I went to bed hungry and I need to take a shower? Lol

October 16, 2018

I was trying to hide this entry from Jesse, but JESSE IS A NOSY PERSON. She says that blogs are for readers, and if I wanted something to be private then I should "Just write in a fucking notebook and hide it under your bed like a normal person, Marin." I'm allowed to have secrets!! Anyway, I'm making her a freaking playlist, that's why I wouldn't tell her what I was writing about. but EVEN STILL! I'm allowed to have secrets!! But I have this blog because I wanna get my feelings out, I wanna see everything in my head typed out all nice in a way that doesn't make it look insane. You know? I don't know who I'm asking.) Because, it's not like I go to a normal school or have a normal life where I'm surrounded by normal people I can talk to. No one knows about me! I'm trapped in this crazy place and This blog is my only outlet to the world outside. I KNOW that's heavy but it's true! The point is: Jesse's birthday is coming up. The central consistent thing in pretty much my whole life is sharing headphones with her and listening to music. The soundtrack to my entire existence is her. I wish I had money and could buy her the best presents of all time, but I can make her the best playlist of all time. I want it to be so good it feels like magic. I want her to think I'm magic. I had another dream the other night. I don't remember much, just glitter. I must be crafting too much. Or looking at festival makeup tutorials. Or both.

November 12, 2018

WARNING- Weird thoughts ahead, lol.

I can never tell which feelings are normal, and which are me being a giant weirdo. But for as long as I can remember, I've had this feeling like every part of my body that's possible to have a ribbon tied around it, has a ribbon tied around it. It's so weird. I can't see the other end of the ribbons - how far they go. where they're attached, nothing. And sometimes it's fine, because sometimes I can hardly feel them. I can forget about them for days at a time, weeks, months if I'm lucky. But then other times I can feel them like, pulling at me. It's freaking spooky, to have something pulling at you from somewhere you can't see. I can't tell if it's pulling me toward whatever it is? Or if it's trying to warn me? Or if I'm just insane??

Does that make sense? Does anybody else feel that way? (she asks into the void)

So idk I guess this ribbons-feeling is why I'm really careful all the time. Like I'm just a careful person. Charlie tried to give me a hard time about it, and I can't be like "I don't wanna pull back in the ribbons too hard without realizing it and wreck something!" because he'd be like "WTF Marin, do we need to get you help?" But also, more and more, I want to be the opposite of careful. I want to take a pair of comically oversized scissors and cut the ribbons into so many pieces that nobody can even tell what they are any more.

I don't know why I'm such a freak, only that I am. I don't know why I can't leave 7 Monolith, only that I can't. But there must be a reason, even if I can't see it, and I feel like it makes sense that the ribbons-feeling is part of that reason, right?

There's just a lot.

January 15, 2019

Happy new year! Lol I forgot to write on the actual first day of 2019, but OH WELL!

I got this new glitter nail polish, thanks to the monthly makeup subscription box my "mom" sends me as an outlet for her abandonment guilt. It has like, every color glitter imaginable without quite reading as "rainbow" which is fine just not really what I was in the mood for and it's vaguely halographic and shifts into all these different colors depending on the light. I'm obsessed. Anyway.

I was putting on another layer because I chipped it like 20 minutes into wearing it, and all of a sudden I had this feeling like I recognized the glitter? Like I felt this thing way deep in my gut and for a minute I couldn't breathe. It's the closest thing I've felt to how books and movies make Christmas look. Like I was home, with family, cookies and cider and all that stuff. Familiar and safe. I almost didn't recognize that feeling. And it came from the nail polish. How weird is that.

I mean, I don't want to make it sound like I've had this awful Charles Dickens childhood - Rose and Charlie are the best ever and always there for me and I love them a lot. But things never feel like...home. You know?

My mom always says this cryptic stuff about how I'm "special" and I wanna strangle her because I'm not, but you try getting my mom to stop doing anything she wants to do. Rose told me once that one day, I would "lead the charge into a new era of existence and access" because I'm "of the Source" and I was like uhhhh okay?? Charlie mostly treats me pretty normal, except when I ask him questions about our family. my mom or any Dram. He knows that I want to know more about them and he's my only real entrypoint, but apparently he's like the black sheep of that whole family. He and my mom were close way back right before I was born, but now whenever she comes to visit he barely even looks at her.

So that's to say: nobody tells me anything, ever.

January 16, 2019

Okay this is so weird. I wrote that entry yesterday about glitter and then last night I dreamed about glitter. Then I woke up with purple glitter in my bed?? Like not a lot, so at first I thought it was from my nail polish, but it was just a handful of purely purple glitter that looks nothing like my nail polish. SO WEIRD!!!!!!

February 14, 2019

Rose has an old book full of "ye olde" style fairy tales, and I flipped through it for the first time in forever today.

Not so weirdly, I've always been drawn to the story of Rapunzel.

Rapunzel couldn't leave the tower, or else she'd break her neck and die.

Same.

February 19, 2019

I was reading this article the other day in one of the teen magazines my "mom" gets me a subscription to and it was all about body positivity, which is great, but it was basically just like "wear a crop top if you wannna wear a crop top! it doesn't matter what size you are! You go, girl!" And like, sure. Yes. I am all for that. But doesn't it seem like there are some steps missing in there? Like, I can physically put on a crop top and wear it outside. But how do I convince myself that everybody isn't looking at me and making fun of me in their minds? How do I unlearn the last almost-fifteen years? How do I get actually positive about my body, not just put on a crop top and fight the urge to cry all day?

It's the same thing like when my mom sends me brochures from the CEO camp she ten when she was my age (her dad started the camp for her, which is an insane thing just by itself, but she did all the work, which is even more insane) and she's like "Marin, you lack direction for your life" and I'm like, cool mom. Yeah. I can see that. What I can't see is how to get there from here.

March 2, 2019

This is what I want my life to look like, volume 2:

The walls of my room are covered in Polaroids of me and my friends. There are lots of mirrors in all kinds of shapes. hearts and moons and stars. There's a record player and a lot of vintage records by Billie Holiday and Lena Horne and Peggy Lee and Nina Simone. And Christmas lights! Everywhere! Lots of of pink and purple Christmas lights everywhere.

If I lived in this room, I'd have so many friends and be part of so many clubs. My best friend would have a collection of vintage cameras, and every place we go to that has a photo booth, we'd get photos taken. Every time I'd look at myself in one of those mirrors, I'd feel happy at what I see and never weird or sad. (Jesse hates taking pictures, so even when I actually do normal stuff with her there's no evidence. What even is a life supposed to be without evidence? That's not an actual question you need to answer Jesse, it's just a question)

Anyway, if I lived in this kind of room, my mom would probably be like, an art history professor at a liberal arts college. That's how come everything looks so cool, because I would know stuff about art. My mom and I would love to try new recipes together. We get each other new cookbooks for every special occasion, and right now we're working out way through a Moroccan one. Moroccan Mondays.

In actuality, there's a dust storm happening outside and my eyes sting.

March 9, 2019

Here's what I'm obsessed with lately.

Can. You. EVEN???

February 3, 2020

Omg I totally forgot this blog existed!!

I lost the password and instead of just resetting it I got in one of my super stubborn moods (Taurus moon lol) and just kept putting in guesses and jokes on me, it locked me out. Anyway, that's a boring story.

But my friend Ximena is really good at hacking and stuff, so she got me back in. Yeah you read that right - I have friends. Obviously a lot has happened since my last post. Ximena moved out here a couple months ago (X's family used to live here but they moved away a while ago) and she introduced me to Lora who I sorta-not-really already knew, and Jesse and I have been hanging out with them a ton. Jesse kind of more than me. Which is fine!!

Anyway I'm 15 now? If I lived somewhere normal I'd be psyched about almost being 16, because I'd get a car and have a Sweet Sixteen and eat a huge PINK cake, but I don't!

February 16, 2020

I read this fanfic the other night that was written in the second person so everything was like "you." "you're doing this" etc you know?

So... You go to a drive-in movie with Heartthrob Boy, and he spills soda on you by accident. And you take off your shirt ( you have a tank top on, don't worry) to clean it up, bit you're still all sticky and self-conscious about being sticky and HTB like... used his tongue to get it off??? AAHHHHH I'M DISGUSTING

but also I wonder if a boy will ever touch any part of me with his tongue

March 2, 2020

Hi I don't know if you heard but I have friends :)))

March 15, 2020

I think I'm so into painting my nails and doing my hair because those are things that always fit. I don't have to worry about places not carrying about a size 8, or places that carry XLs but when you read the measurements they're actually size 8s too and it's like jesus if that's an XL what am I

My "mom" was confused why I needed new pants because mine still look new, but I showed her the thigh holes and she was like "that's a weird place for a hole, how did that happen" and I realized that when your legs are a certain size, you just don't know about thigh rub and what it does to clothes. Pants could just last for years.

No matter what, I can paint my nails with a different color nail polish on every finger, and I can always do a braid crown. And I know I'm cute as hell, etc, so this is not a Marin Needs to Learn to Love Herself thing. It's just an UGH thing

April 17, 2020

So Rose does all these Source experiments on plants and flowers and stuff. Tbh, it's just one if those things I hardly even register anymore because it's just always there. She's explained to me a million times what Source is/does/means, but the way Rose explains things sometimes is just a LOT to take in and she refers to me as a "child of Source" but I kinda figure that's like "child of God" right? What else would that mean?

But anyway, it's really annoying because dried flowers are a part of my new aesthetic and I pinned a bunch of them up on my wall but I woke up this morning to a freaking jungle of very alive flowers. I freaked out. on Rose, and she Rose said she didn't do it and I was like WELL THEN WHO DID and she said that I did??

Which like. Obviously that doesn't make sense. I asked her what she meant and She just shook her head and said " It's happening. We should have known" which is some horror movie shit that she refused to elaborate on. I love to feel safe and normal!!

Or maybe it's not a horror movie at all. But maybe it's a superhero movie? Maybe there's some kind of origin story I don't know about yet, and all of this will be worth it once I figure out my powers. I wonder what my costume will look like. Lol.

April 23, 2020

Is it possible to die from longing? I know that sounds melodramatic, but I'm also kinda serious?? Because it seems like one of those things that could fester and get infected and kill you. It's like when you fall down and bang up your knee, and you need to put a band-aid on the scrape for a while, but THEN you need to air it out - but how do you know when you're supposed to do each one of those things? And if you do either one too much, your knee gets infected. What if I smother my heart with band-aids for too long and it gets infected? This isn't about anybody. I just keep having these dreams about someone I never expected to have dreams about and they're so intense that they keep leaking into my life and I wonder if I need to do something about them.

May 2, 2020

So Jesse's gotten really into metal music, and I tried to get her to play me something since, AS PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED, that's what we've literally ALWAYS DONE with music and each other, and she kinda looked at Ximena out of the corner of her eye and said like "I don't think it's really your thing" And it was the meanest thing anybody's ever said to me.

So later I looked up Zenion, the band she was talking about, and I listened to every single fucking song they've ever recorded turned up as loud as it could go with my own headphones that are better than hers anyway, and I loved it. And I didn't love it just because she said I wouldn't. I loved it because it was loud and weird and wild and when I listened to it it made me feel like it's not crazy when so feel stuff so hard it's like my heart's gonna vibrate out of my body. And I would have told Jesse all this and we could have shared it, but I guess she thinks just because I like HTB and glitter and stuff, I don't have the capacity for anything else.

She clearly doesn't know me at all. So much for any kind of whatever, why would she ever want to kiss someone she clearly sees as like a stupid baby.

May 7, 2020

The dreams are getting weirder and they're happening more. I'm getting scared to go to sleep. Not that the dreams are always scary (they almost never are, or not scary like in a typically scary horror movie way). I mean, I've only ever been me. I don't know what other peoples' dreams are like.

The other night in one I was jumping on a trampoline, which is something I've never done in real life. I told Rose about it when I woke up, and she said "do you even know how to jump on a trampoline?" and I said "Rose, it's not like riding a bike. You don't have to learn. You just jump." and then we got into this whole thing about how some things we just know, and jumping's one of them, and how that's so weird. Sometimes I really like talking to Rose about stuff.

May 19, 2020

So, it's prom season in the real world. If I lived somewhere normal, my prom dress would be pink with lots of tulle and silk flowers at the shoulders, and it would fit perfectly and trying in dresses would be fun and not anxiety-inducing.

But since there are only like 10 teenagers currently in 7MV, were not having a homecoming. Cool.

May 27, 2020

So, mom came to visit this weekend, and I asked her about her prom. She was Typical Cecelia at first, very "Prom is a waste of time and money, Marin. It's a night when lesser people play dress-up to engage with their aspirations of grandeur." And I was like eyeroll forever and just stopped talking. BUT THEN she actually talked to me like a human being. She was like, "I actually didn't go to my prom" and when I asked her why she said that she didn't have a date, and was very self-conscious about it. I almost passed out at her admitting that she's ever been anything less than perfect.

(gonna continue this in reblog)

[actualsunflower]

I didn't meant to be rude, but why is he fat? I mean, u have to bue quite Active to survive in the commonwealth, also he is kinda like a plant right? Photosyntesis n shit shouldnt make u fat i guess

How're you gonna say "normal not fat" to a fat person, about their oc that is based off them, and then say you didn't mean to be rude.... That is a very rude thing to say...

But back then, I was just learning how to draw, and didn't know how to draw fat bodies yet and to be honest, I wasn't putting much effort into learning. Now I do know, and now I do put effort into it. And if you've been around long enough to know what my very first drawings looked like then you should know how much my art has improved since then. At the time as well, I was just newly using art to ease and explore my dysphoria, and having him look more like what people expected men to look like felt ok. But just giving up and drawing him how he really looks and how I look has made me feel so much better about both myself and who I am as a man, and that it's perfectly okay (and sexy 😳) to be fat. And, it vastly improved my art skill.

There's a couple other reasons why he looks different in old art, 1 being that he's younger in those pictures and that's why his vitiligo is different too. I draw him at different ages depending on his age in relation to my fic which I don't plan on ever sharing any more of because of asks like this :) close friends are the only people I talk about this stuff with anymore bcs they aren't fatphobes, homophobes, or ableists

2nd, I am very active person, I walk and bike every day like, religiously, and I'm still chunky! Activity level doesn't equal weight. I do these things every day with my roommate who is very thin, and eats waaayyyyy more than I do. And I'm still fat and they're not! And again, he is based off me, so he is fat. We are both muscular and fat which just makes you look even fatter. Look up strongmen if you don't know what I'm talking about. He's that, but softer because I like belly. He's an old man, he stopped being thin with more defined muscles as he aged, just like everyone else

3rd, photosynthesis works by turning sunlight into glucose, which is sugar. Jay doesn't need to eat, but he likes to anyway. No matter how much you walk around if you're still 'eating' all day (by being in the sunlight) and then eating food on top of that, you're not going to look like one of those fake super models. Bodies just don't work that way, you're gonna be chunky. Plus some people are just big even without extra fat. Plus the dude is old as hell and has one leg, like... He isn't charging around fist fighting raiders and pretending he's Mr. Save the 'wealth like the game wants you to be. He just loves walking around with Nick studying things and farming at home. His story isn't the game's story and the game is super unrealistic in itself, I really would not base your idea of what bodies should look and be like off of gameplay mechanics.

And about surviving in the Commonwealth, you really don't have to be that active. You can just be strong, resilient, smart and resourceful and survive just as well or better than other people. I don't know why you think fat people can't walk around or whatever but we have a perfectly fine time doing stuff... I garden, walk, exercise, hike, whatever just fine and I'm still fat and I am not the only one so I don't really know why you think fat people would just like... Die off or not exist or whatever you believe

But most importantly he's fat just because I want him to be and that's it. There doesn't need to be any other justification really.

[stellardeer]

Big rant under cut, need to vent 🙄

Getting EXTREMELY tired of having to talk to my roommate about helping me clean out the litterboxes because HER FUCKING CAT shits on the floor and pisses all over my stuff when they aren't clean.

I have automatic scooping boxes. They scoop the poo into a compartment and only need to be cleaned out like every 1 1/2 to 2 weeks, it isn't even a DAILY thing.

I bought them so sure they are mine but she doesn't have her own litterbox, her pissy goblin shares with my two cats. But he's the type of cat who needs the box to be clean or else he goes elsewhere.

And she knows this. I've told her several times. I've even EXPLAINED THE ANIMAL PSYCHOLOGY BEHIND IT but she keeps fucking going "sorry idk why he does that :(" every time I tell her that he has pissed on something again.

He PISSED ON MY COUCH. MY COUCH REEKS OF CAT PEE I CANT EVEN SIT ON IT ANYMORE. And she said she would clean it and that was TWO WEEKS AGO. I was gone for 2 weeks cause I had to house sit for my bf while he was visiting family and I came back during that time to check on things AND THERE WERE JUST PILES OF SHIT NEXT TO THE LITTERBOXES HOW DO YOU JUST IGNORE THAT HOW DO YOU NOT FUCKING SMELL THAT AND THINK HEY MAYBE I SHOULD CHECK ON THESE.

The entire time we've lived together she's only changed them out THREE fucking times, and one of those times I don't even count because it was after I had asked her, once again, to help me with it in the future, and she changed it out when I had just done it like 2 days prior. Because she doesn't care enough to pay attention to them to know what it actually looks like when they need changing. Half the time she'll come up and ask me if they need to be changed and I'm like bitch maybe GO LOOK AT THEM?

but I know why she does that, she needs me to KNOW that she's making an effort, she needs to demonstrate to me that she's doing something, instead of just fucking doing it. You don't need to announce to me when you've done something like I'm gonna praise you for doing the BARE FUCKING MINIMUM TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR OWN FUCKING CAT.

Not to mention she never fucking pays attention to him anyway. For the longest time she locked him out of her room. For months. Because she can't keep her room clean and he pees on her clothes and she spends all her time on her PC but doesn't like him getting on her desk, which is where she always is so where the fuck else is he supposed to go? He wants to spend time with you, he likes you for whatever fucking reason.

The only reason he goes in there now is because I installed catdoors on our bedrooms so the cats wouldn't be trapped in there and unable to get to their food/litter if we close the doors at night. And it has made it easier for him to leave her alone I guess. But she still doesn't pay him any fucking attention when he goes in there.

And oh yeah, she HAD a litter box. When she first got him. She had one in her room. And she couldn't keep it clean and she got tired of having to change it out and smelling it, SO SHE PUSHED IT OUT INTO THE LIVING ROOM RIGHT NEXT TO THE OTHER BOX. Which for 1, you don't fucking do, you can't put two boxes right next to each other, they will just doubly stink and make them even less likely to use them, and 2. AFTER SHE DID THAT SHE NEVER FUCKING SCOOPED IT AGAIN, SHE NEVER EVEN LOOKED AT IT. I WAS SCOOPING IT. I ended up getting rid of it eventually and getting a second automatic box because I got tired of scooping that one by hand. I'M JUST SO FUCKING FURIOUS THAT SHE CAN BE THAT GODDAMN INCONSIDERATE.

I shouldn't HAVE to say anything. I shouldn't have to have an uncomfortable conversation with her. And this isn't even a matter of me coming here to bitch about it instead of doing something, I'VE HAD SEVERAL CONVERSATIONS WITH HER ABOUT THIS. She even wrote it down on her calendars last time I changed them (when there was shit all around them, and she stood there and watched me clean it and didn't even offer to help) AND SHE STILL MADE NO EFFORT TO EVEN SO MUCH AS LOOK AT THEM.

They were supposed to be changed on Thursday, I did it today. I'm not even that upset about having to do it myself, cause my cats use them too, but HERS IS THE ONE THAT PEES ON MY THINGS WHEN THEY AREN'T CLEAN. Because of him I have to change them sooner than I would normally need to. My cats can tolerate it for a full 2 weeks or a little bit longer, and when they need changing they STINK. It's VERY OBVIOUS. So I would usually just wait for the stink and then change them.

But I can't do that with her cat living here because he'll stop using them long before I can smell them, SO SHE NEEDS TO TAKE FUCKING RESPONSIBILITY FOR HIM. At the fucking LEAST she could clean up the shit piles that he leaves. And I know that it's him, it's always him. I WATCH HIM DO IT. I WATCH HIM PEE ON MY THINGS. For a while I wasn't sure if it was just him, but I'VE BEEN PAYING ATTENTION I KNOW FOR A FACT IT'S JUST HIM. She wouldn't fucking KNOW THAT THOUGH cause she only pays attention to him when she wants to take cute pictures of him for her fucking social media. I'm so mad.

I'm tired of making excuses for her. I don't care anymore if it's depression or ADD or whatever the fuck reason she wants to give me, I HAVE THOSE THINGS TOO AND I STILL PUT MY ANIMALS WELLBEING BEFORE MY OWN. That's WHY I saved money and spent extra to get expensive scooping boxes because it's a financial sacrifice that ensures my cats can have a clean toilet when I don't have the fortitude to clean them daily. And if your mental health is so fucking bad that you can't care for an animal THEN YOU SHOULD PROBABLY FIND A BETTER HOME FOR YOUR ANIMAL.

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes : RELOADED

Let's make the next chapter pink.

Table of Contents

Previous Chapter : Undying Admiration

Chapter 21 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

back at it again with the piccrew

If I Remember Correctly

Maxine Winters

Safe House 110197, Brazil

Maxine looked at Samantha and smiled. They were finally together once again, as roommates, but this time, the room was huge and they were surrounded by strong men who were willing to risk their lives to protect them.

"How are you holding up?" Maxine asked.

"Everything's a swirl of hazy incomplete memories. It feels like I'm mostly recalling them back, but the details are a bit mixed. It doesn't feel right that I recall Alex as someone from work, right?" she chuckled. She must've been going through a lot of things right now, and it looked like Alex successfully helped her recall most of her forgotten memories. Maybe all she needed was someone to influence her.

"Hey Sam, what kinds of things have I told you about my past? France already told me some of my unforgettable memories but they still seem too unclear." She asked, Samantha looked excited as she began recalling something from the unaltered part of her memory.

"Well, for starters you told me a lot about your little sister. However since your mother died, the two of you were always together solving the problems as a team until you both decided to enlist her in the army. You told it was both the happiest and saddest moment of your life." She said with a smile on her face. Maxine never felt anything but knowing that that was their situation, it made sense how France was trying hard to win her back. She was the only one she had. And it must've hurt that the only companion she ever had didn't even remember her.

"I… I didn't know that…" she faltered. Samantha quickly reached out a hand to hold hers.

"Just take your time to remember… I'm sure France understands the situation." Samantha replied, turning to the door as it slowly pushed itself open. Alex peeked from the said door and asked.

"Am I disturbing any girl talk?"

"A little. But I'll forgive you for now." Samantha grinned as Alex entered the room, dressed in comfortable sleeping wear.

"I made a deal with France to swap sleeping positions for tonight. Make sure skipping tomorrow's pancake will be worth it." he winked as he settled behind Samantha, the spooning was awkward as his metal leg was unbendable and heavy, but Maxine noticed the smile in Samantha's eyes and how it quickly forgot the uncomfort he was giving her. Maybe that's true love.

"Aw… I was about to add extra honey to your plate, Alex. What you did to Samantha was the sweetest thing ever. I guess France is up for a treat." She joked, making the girls giggle while Alex furrowed his brows.

"Well then, this night better be worth it." He proceeded to tickle Samantha and they found themselves rolling and rolling. Maxine took a minute to admire the scenery before her eyes slowly closed itself to sleep.

~

Ever since being brainwashed, Maxine wasn't able to dream of something, every morning she would be greeted by the same empty feeling, her thoughts would always consist of recent events.

This night was different. She vividly recalled a rainy afternoon. She and Francine stood by their mother's grave.

"I'm going to the army next week, Mom. It might take a while since I'll be seeing you again." Francine knelt and placed a small floral pot they arranged.

"Yeah Mom, your daughter finally used her toughness somewhere other than fighting me!" She remembered herself joking and nudging her sister. These were things that they did on a weekly basis, visit their mother’s grave and talk about their week.

“And since she’s out training for the rest of her life, I decided to move to California, maybe look for restaurants to work on maybe look for someone special.” Maxine mused. She could hear France giggle.

“I, on the other hand, won’t let myself fall for any of those tough army men.” France added.

“Are you sure about that? It’s like… turning down a million dollar offer.” Maxine teased.

“It really depends on the person. But while I’m in training, I’ll focus on improving.” She amended.

Then the memory faded, it felt like tv static started to consume her whole dream until she found herself awake, gasping for air.

“You okay?” Alex groggily asked her, cuddling Samantha who was sound asleep. She nodded and got up, she felt very thirsty.

Maxine hurriedly walked down the stairs quietly passing the empty command center. Oddly enough, the kitchen light was open and she could hear soft clanking of cutlery. She took a peek at Gary Sandersom, who’s sticking his tongue out and too busy making finishing touches on a cake of sorts. She knew they didn't have the right mould for basic pastries but seeing him actually holding a cake, surprised her.

“So this is the reason I wake up to missing ingredients.” She spoke firmly and crossed her arms, walking closely to Roach who scrambled and immediately hid the cake behind him.

“I’m just trying out new stuff. Baking looked fun.” He lied, stepping further back until his butt hit the sink.

“I already saw what you’re working on Gary. How did you form the shape? We didn’t have any mold.”

“When there’s a will, there’s a way.” He smiled proudly and showed her his cake. It was cylindrical, almost like that of a

“Mugs.” he explained as Maxine crept closer to his work, her eyes probed around it like a judge from masterchef.

“Wow. This looks nice. Is this for you?” she asked, feeling Gary’s body shake differently.

“Actually, it’s for you… France told me about your birthday and since I already missed it. I wanted to share one with you. You know… for uh… formality.” he stuttered. It was obvious that Gary was nervous. She felt this ever since they started cooking together, and she noticed that he was improving around her.

“Aww… thanks. No one’s ever baked a cake for me. Samantha just buys them.” Maxine chuckled and sat on the chair as Gary pulled out a candle and lit it.

“I’m supposed to give you one before we leave tomorrow. I guess you got too excited.” he laughed nervously and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Maxine gently reached for the hand and grazed it softly, smiling at Gary’s excited face.

“Make a wish.” Gary whispered, his minty breath tickled her nose. Maxine closed her eyes as the warm flame heated her cheeks. She would have wished for something personal, but instead she wished for something she thought needed to happen first.

“I wish… that this war will be over.” she opened her eyes and blew her candle as Roach silently clapped and cheered.

“Belated Happy Birthday Maxine.” He greeted with a warm hug, Maxine slowly gave in to his embrace and faced him. Tension sparked in the air between them as the chemicals moving between them started to react to each other, drawing their lips closer to each other. It was almost automatic, none of them held back as their lips clashed into a soft yet intense kiss. Their tongues were too shy to act but the lips were eager to meet again, soft smooches filled the quiet kitchen as their hands started to climb up to their faces.

“I.. um..” Gary shyly held back, his hands parted from her cheeks as they both stepped back from each other.

“It’s okay…" She whispered quickly, turning back to get herself a glass of water to calm herself from her nightmare and to cool off the heat of her body.

"I take it you're going back to bed?" Gary asked, leaning his arms across the table, looking at the cake.

"I think I can't sleep after that dream." She muttered. The reply signaled Roach to grab a fork and sit beside her.

"Dream? You're having dreams now?" Roach asked curiously, taking a slice off the cake and pointing the fork to her mouth.

"Yeah." Maxine continued with a vivid description of her dream, Roach momentarily spoon feeding her with cake every after thought.

Maxine actually stayed all morning talking to Roach, they discussed mostly about her dream and Roach was there to listen. He was what Maxine needed at the moment, a great listener who happened to be someone she's starting to fall for. She could also feel him growing close to her, that wasn't just any birthday kiss… I felt something else.

Maxine was almost jealous of Roach's colorful life. He shared so much of him that she actually felt guilty that she was only able to share one. He had lots of stories involving encounters with animals and most of it was about his dog.

"If you were to choose… Which animal would you prefer as a pet?" Gary asked curiously. The question made Maxine stop and think, admiring the slowly rising sun as she goes.

"Parrots sound fun. They talk back."

"Only if you teach them to…" Gary responded. He always does that, he's adding comments to her replies until they both agreed on a thing.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Maxine finally asked.

"Do what?"

"You know, influencing me to agree on your opinion?"

"I just want you to think I actually have something to say… Plus it keeps the conversation going… because I never really wanted it to stop." He smiled.

"Oi, Roach. Why is there no hot water yet?" Price yelled.

"Hang on Captain! The kettle isn't whistling yet!" Roach replied running to the kitchen leaving an amazed Maxine behind. A few minutes later Francine approached her.

No words were spoken as Maxine immediately wrapped her sister around her arms, she was really all she had and she was guilty that she couldn't remember her when they first met.

"I'm glad you found me… even amidst this mess." Maxine whispered to France's ears. She could feel her tears falling on her as they enjoyed the tender moment of their reunion.

"I remembered only one memory. Of us before we separated and lived independently. I think it's all I needed to truly tell who I am." Maxine said as Francine sobbed.

"I love you sis." France hugged again as they both cried.

Next Chapter : Going Dark Part 1

Notification Squad my Beloved

@smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @whimsywispsblog @beemybee @ricinbach

[youbloodymadgenius]

Stuck with you (Modern!Ivar x reader)

wA/N: This is for @lisinfleur‘s Quarantine Challenge. Thanks love 💖

I’ve been very inactive lately, my mind filled with worries... Stuck with you is not my best work, but at least I’ve been able to write again. Writing sex is not my strong suit. Sorry.

the gif belongs to @honestsycrets​ 🌻

@inforapound 🌺💐🌺 Thanks my friend ❤️

Summary: Your roommate swearing and screaming at the top of his lungs, you end up coming out of your room and going to see him. What happens next is... out of control.

Warnings: explicit sex; swear words; no plot AT ALL.

Words: 2745

"FUUUUUCK!!!"

Exasperated,you roll your eyes before immersing yourself again in the captivating historical novel you're reading. 

Less than five seconds later, your attention is drawn away by a heavy thud – no doubt some kind of object crashing into the wall – shortly followed afterwards by another loud "FUUUUUUCK!"

Sighing deeply, you place a bookmark between the pages of your book, put it on the night table and eventually get out of bed, checking the time on your clock.

7:45am. Certainly too early for you to silently tolerate your rommate's screams.

Crossing hastily the room dressed in nothing but your panties and a long t-shirt, you take in a big gasp of air before opening the door.  

"FUCKING BULLSHIT!!!"

Your hand still on the doorknob, the door ajar, his scream this time causes you to jerk. 

Reaching the living room, the first thing you notice is the remote control, or maybe it's a phone you're not sure, on the floor, shattered into a thousand pieces. The next one is that Ivar is screaming again. "FUUUUUCK!! I JUST CAN'T FUCKING STAND IT! FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!"

You then spot him, sitting on the couch in gray sweatpants and a withe t-shirt. Furrowed brows, clenched jaw, tensed features… If you still had any doubts, you don't have any now. He's angry. Very angry. 

Taking two cautious steps forward, you know better than to get too close to him, so that you can avoid any unexpected flying objects. Hands on your hips, the strong breath you release gets his attention. "FUCK Y/N!"

Knowing his outburst isn't actually directed at you, you keep calm, speaking softly. "What's wrong, Ivar?"

"WHAT'S WRONG?? YOU'RE FUCKING ASKING ME WHAT'S WRONG, Y/N?? I'M SURE YOU FUCKING KNOW WHAT'S WRONG! FUCK!!!" He spits at you, his hands waving all over the place, and you can physically feel his wrath. You’ve never seen him like that. Of course, Ivar is often quick-tempered, but that… that is something else, and it's quite unsettling.

Still, you force yourself to stay calm, inhaling deeply before answering, your voice gentle. 

"No Ivar, I don't." 

You're not exactly lying. Of course, you have some idea, but you can't be sure. The truth is, you two barely know each other. If you've been living under the same roof for almost six months, it's not really by choice. You were desesperate to find a room and Ivar was looking for a roommate. Or more specifically, Ivar had to find a roommate. He lived alone for two years, but after a nasty fall that put him back in a wheelchair for weeks, his overprotective mother decided it was her job to interfere. The deal was this: find a roommate or come back home. When you met them – yes, his mother was there, after all, she owned the apartment – your conversation sounded weirdly like a job interview. After two hours and a lot of nosy questions from Aslaug, you got the job, huh sorry, the room, the fact that you're a nursing student surely helpful. 

And frankly, living here turned out not so bad.

The huge apartment is perfectly equipped, its furnitures luxurious, the fridge always full, thanks to  Ivar's mother, and your room probably bigger than your parents' house. Ivar is certainly not the most congenial person but he's mostly never around. Between his doctoral thesis and his unofficial involvement in the family corporation, he leaves most of the time at dawn and doesn't return until late at night, except on days when his legs hurt too much. On those days, he usually locks himself in his room. The few times you run into him in the apartment, he barely acknowledges your presence, doesn't really talk to you – you're well aware that he'd prefer to live alone – yet he's never directly hostile. 

Plus, you would be lying saying he's unattractive. Truth be told, Ivar is a sight to behold. Gorgeous blue eyes, strong features, sharp cheekbones and high forehead, sign of his obvious intelligence. Ivar is, plain and simple, stunningly handsome. 

So yeah, all in all, living with him isn't hard. Ordinarily. But now, the ordinary is not part of your lives. Because of this virus, schools, theaters and shops have been closed for two weeks and you and Ivar are mostly stuck at home. He's been grumpy ever since, but you've managed to keep him pretty calm, at least enough for your new shared meals to go well.

Right now, you're not sure there's anything you can do to avoid the upcoming storm. 

As Ivar glares at you, eyes wide open, obviously bewildered, you simply repeat, "I don't." Grabbing his crutch, you think for a moment he's going to stand up, and maybe that's what he was going to do, but finally he just throws it angrily accross the room, still being careful no to aim it at you, shouting again,

"FUCK YOU DON'T!!! HAVEN'T YOU HEARD THE FUCKING NEWS, Y/N???" 

You give him a confused look. "What news, Ivar? It's not even eight in the morning, I woke up not long ago and I was reading." Explaining yourself is useless but you feel compelled to do it, for whatever reason.

"YOU ARE FUCKING STUPID, AREN'T YOU? YOU SLEEPING WON'T STOP EARTH FROM FUCKING SPINNING, YOU KNOW THAT?" His tone scornful, pointing to his temple with his index finger in a universally obvious gesture, he's slowly getting on your nerves. 

Getting closer, you take advantage of the fact that he's sitting and you're standing, hovering over him, one eyebrow raised. He's clearly not impressed, but it feels good anyway. Small victories are victories nonetheless. "Don't give me shit, Ivar. I'm not dumb and you know that. Just spill the f–", biting your tongue, you stop before saying what seems to be his favorite word today, "spill the news Ivar!"

"TOTAL LOCKDOWN!!!" 

Shocked, you fight the urge to take a few steps back while his screams don't stop. He doesn't notice your discomfort, caught up in his own anger. "THAT'S WHAT THE FUCKING STATSMINISTER ANNOUNCED LATE LAST NIGHT!! A FUCKING TOTAL LOCKDOWN! FOR AT LEAST THREE FUCKING WEEKS!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? WE'RE NOT ALLOWED TO GO OUT AT ALL, EXCEPT FOR GROCERY SHOPPING. WHICH DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING SINCE I DO IT ONLINE, I KNOW! STILL, I WAS SUPPOSED TO FLY BACK AND FORTH TO LONDON THIS WEEK BUT THE PLANES ARE GROUNDED. ALL THE FUCKING PLANES! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? WE'RE FUCKING STUCK HERE, Y/N, 24/7!! ALL BECAUSE OF THIS FUCKING CORONABULLSHIT!!"

Waiting to make sure he's done with his rant, you give him a disapproving look. "Ivar, this is not fucking bullshit. This is a life-threatening virus. People are dying all over the world and the quarantine is the only way. You know that. We knew it was coming. You can't be selfish, not in such circumstances."

You know he knows you're right. Ivar may be mad right now, but he's still smart enough to undersand the urgency of the situation. Yet, he's not quite ready to admit it, at least not entirely. 

Even so, his voice is soft at first. "Yeah, yeah, of course you're right." Running his fingers through his dishelved hair, he sighs before getting carried away once again. "But fuck Y/N!!!" Ivar takes an heavy breath and releases it loudly, shaking his head frustratedly.

And here we are again. Three-two-one-zero… Go!  "BUT FUCK Y/N! FUCK!! IT FUCKING SUCKS, CAN'T YOU AGREE? WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO, HUH? WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO? WE ARE STUCK HERE, LIKE WE ARE IN A FUCKING PRISON!! WE ARE FUCKING STUCK HERE TOGETHER AND THE FUCK IT SUCKS!!"

Hearing his words, you're not sure if you should be amused or rather offended, finally opting for irony. "Sure, it's true that's I'm so lucky to be living with you, while you're stuck with the most boring rommate. I guess this is the part where I'm supposed to apologize for existing, right?"

Ivar freezes, speechless. Wow. It's not something that happens a lot. Small victories blah, blah, blah… Nervously wiggling his fingers, he gives you a constrained, almost apologetic look while biting his lower lip. "Fuck Y/N," his voice speaks softly, "I didn't mean it like that." He lowers his gaze, his hands now rubbing his thighs. You can tell he tries very hard to stay calm and you can't help but think it's adorable. "You know that… Fuck! Y/N, I'm not good at that, and we both know that we didn't choose each other, but I'm fucking grateful it's you who's living with me, and not some dumbass. And even though I'm a spoiled brat and probably a fucking pain in the ass, I know being stuck here with you won't be hell on Earth. Still, just being stuck here sucks. IT FUCKING SUCKS!!!"

That's the exact moment when something switches in your mind. It all comes up out of the blue and you're suddenly aware of the warmth in your lower belly, of your increasing heart rate, of your clammy hands… You have to make a prodigious effort not to lick your lips. Ivar is… flustered, akward, still angry and cocky yet soft and almost sweet and seeing him like this makes you feel things. Unexpected things.  

You can't think straight anymore. Maybe lockdown is driving you crazy too, after all. Or maybe it's because it's been months since you've… Or it's all Ivar's fault. Yeah, that's it, it's got to be his fault. Because with is huge blue eyes, his reddened cheeks, his chiseled upper body and the anger still flowing out of him, he's… he's… he's…

… insanely hot. So FUCKING insanely hot.

Checking discretely with one hand that no drool is leaking from the corner of your mouth, you go on right after. "Maybe you should stop talking about it and just do it, Ivar. You know, to take the pressure off." Your words are rushed and you know you're blushing, but you can’t control your brain anymore. It's probably not really functional right now anyway. 

Baffled, Ivar looks at you without understanding. "Wh- What? What are you fucking talking about?" His scowl is back, and you realize it makes him even more attractive. 

“Oh Ivar, don't play dumb, you know what I'm saying, don't you?  Fuck and fucking… Those are the only words you seem to know. Stop saying them. Do it. Just do it. I bet you'll be more relaxed after." Okay, you're obviously out of your mind. You couldn't care less though, your only focus at the moment being the sparkle in your inner core. 

"What-?" His chocked voice gives away how stunned he is. "But… with… with whom, Y/N?"

The answer is an obvious one, right? At least to you, but probably to Ivar too, since he's stuck there with you and only you. You can see in his eyes that yes, he knows what you're implying. Still, the bewilderment written all over his face a clear indication that he can't bring himself to believe it. You don't blame him. The impression you give is always that of a (too) serious person. Ivar doesn't know who you really are. You're not even sure you know it yourself… And right now, it doesn't matter. 

Because yeah, disbelief is obvious on his face, but lust even more so … oh gods… Gods… Slightly confounded and blinking a few times, but looking at you like you're a prey, Ivar is, if at all possible, even hotter than before. And that's what matters.

 Winking at him, you quickly take off your t-shirt, swinging it accross the room. His mouth ajar, his gaze is that of a toddler, sitting under the tree, contemplating his gifts on Christmas morning.

"What do you think, Ivar?" His eyebrows furrowed, you don't allow him time to respond, straddling his lap. You're not sure he's breathing, clearly incredulous, almost skeptical. And gods, how beautiful he is. You can't resist. You won't resist. When you crash your lips together, you stop thinking. 

The akward moment disappears quickly, replaced by a shared eagerness. Ivar kisses you back, his need now as great as yours, his tongue invading and claiming your mouth. You can't help but moan while feeling him growning against your clit. "Fuck Y/N!", he mumbles as you rock your hips purposefully against his. Rewarded with a loud growl, you smile, never breaking the intense kiss. 

All off a sudden, you don't know how he manages to do so, you're lying on your back on the wide couch, Ivar's body all over yours, warming you from the inside out. His shirt gone, his callouse hands are everywhere, roaming your body – your jaw, sides, belly, neck, navel, even squeezing your cheeks as you raise your hips – his mouth on your tits, nibbling and sucking. Digging your fingers into his back, you release a gasping breath before kissing each and every part of exposed skin he has to offer, his taste so overwhelming, you can't get enough, moaning and panting endlessly, your heart already pounding hard in your chest.

As he slips his fingers under your panties, your breath stutters, your whole body jerking and tensing when his fingertips brush over your clit. You can feel him smile against your skin, proud and smug, huffing a small snort just before parting your folds.

Slipping a finger inside you, a low moan rattles in his throat, his wonder at how wet you are obvious in his eyes. When his middle finger begins to glide in and out, you grab his wrist hard, a frustrated growl escaping your mouth.  

"Stop it, Ivar." Muttering against his neck, you put your free hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly, his gaze an universal what-the-fuck-gaze. Without loosening your grip on his wrist, you let your fingers run down his chest, your hand grabbing his waistband. 

"Don't waste our time with foreplay." Rushing your words, you give him a short yet rapturous kiss. "Save it for later, will you? We'll have a whole lockdown to do that." Yanking his pants and briefs down his hips, you then slip off your panties, Ivar leaning on his forearms, his biceps flexing. Looking at you with desire in his blackened eyes, he releases a husky whimper of yearning as you grab his hard length. "Fuck Y/N!" he hisses, panting and shivering. 

"That's it, Ivar! Do it. Fuck me. I need you inside me. Now!"  Your breath coming in shallow gasps, you squeeze his cock, brushing it against your core.

That's all it takes for his control to snap as he drives into you, stroking you from the inside. He thrusts straight away into you, hard and heavy. It's not gentle, it's rough and primal, exactly what you need. Grasping and squeezing handfuls of his ass, your hips snap upward and you groan against his skin and into his mouth as he hits you from all angles, going deeper inside you than you thought possible. Your body jerking back, your hands cling to his shoulders, allowing you to feel his quivering muscles under your fingertips. Your skin feels like fire as he keeps pumping relentlessly, his tongue thrusting into your mouth. 

Your breathing uneven, you know he's as close as you are as your walls clench around him. Pushing your hips upward and back, faster and faster, his thrusts become erratic. "Fuck!", he roars once more, your hands back on his ass again, your body starting to shake. 

Crying out, your body bows upward. The muscles of your inner walls constrincting tightly around him, you scream his name, exploding all around him, his thick and hot seed spilling inside you, your orgasm hitting you in strong waves as his mouth seeks yours for a final sloppy kiss.

Sated to the point of exhaustion, Ivar falls heavily onto you, shaking and sweating. Not letting himself slide out of you just yet, his hands lazily stroke your sides as your fingers run along his back. 

Out of breath, you both need a few minutes to come down from that high, Ivar being the first to talk, his voice still shaky. "There's no fucking way we're not fucking doing this again!"

Bursting out laughing, you give his cheek a peck before leaning on one elbow. Rolling your eyes playfully, you gently push a strand of hair away from his forehead. "You're fucking right. But for now, Ivar, you know what?  Give it a rest and just fucking shut up!"

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[ally-writes-many-things]

Who you are. (Hamish Duke) Part 1

Summary: You were an Adepti for The Order but you were also a spy for Gnostic council. The council called you back to Belgrace to spy on Vera after the recent werewolf attacks which is when you find out something about one of your old best friends.

Words: 2117

Requested: Yes

Prompts:

Warning or A/N:

You were sitting in your house enjoying your company when you heard your phone go off. You looked at over at your phone and saw that it was Vera Stone. You rolled your eyes and sighed. She has become a pain in your side ever since the Grand Magus rolled into town for the initiation and decided to stay in town for a while. You let your company keep doing their thing while you answered your phone. "Yes, Vera?"

       "I need you to come down here. The Grand Magus is up to something and I'm worried that it's going to affect The Order n a way that isn't good,," She said while rustling around.

     She's constantly calling you worried about Edward and you just let it play out and let her vent it out but it's getting old at this point. "Vera, I'm sure he isn't doing that-"

She didn't let you finish. "Would you just come down here?"

    "Would it make you stop calling me every five seconds?"

    "Yes,"

    "Fine, I'll be there soon,"

    You told your company to leave while you got dressed to go down to the temple. You didn't live in the Belgrave area but you did live close enough for that temple to be your temple. You never really go there unless you were needed like now. You weren't really apart from the Gnostic council, but they have recruited you to be a spy for them and to report back to them if anything was out of the ordinary. You opened your front door with a flick of your hand and walked out to your car.

--

     You walked into the temple and you saw Alyssa talking to the Grand Magus in hush tone. You cleared your throat and it made Alyssa jump but not the Grand Magus. "Y/N. Nice to see you again,"

    Your heels clicking on the floor every time you stepped closer to the Grand Magus. "You too, Grand Magus. I hear you sticking around in town for a while,"

    He smiled at you. He was one cunning son of a bitch but could he really be doing something that could hurt The Order? "Got some business to attend to here that's gonna keep me here for a while,"

    "And what would that be?"

    "If all goes well, I'll tell everyone soon. Alyssa, that is all for today. We'll pick it up tomorrow,"

    Alyssa nodded. "Yes, Grand Magus. Whatever you say, Grand Magus,"

    Alyssa was such a kiss ass last year and still is one today. I was 3 years ahead of Alyssa in The Order, but she was always trying to kiss ass and was always so insecure about herself. "Same ol' Alyssa, huh?"

    Alyssa turned and looked at you after she watched the Grand Magus leave. "I don't know what you mean?"

    "Always a kiss ass,"

    "Same ol' Y/N, always a bitch,"

    "A bitch that got a promotion,"

    "Alyssa, I need to talk to you!"

    You turned around and saw a brown hair guy jog up to Alyssa, look frantic. Something was off about this guy like he had a certain smell about him that you couldn't place. "You smell weird,"

    The boy looked at you funny, so did Alyssa. "He smells normal?"

    "Who are you?"

    "Y/N Y/L/N. Adepti, you?"

    "Jack Morton. Acolyte,"

    "I figured as much. Alyssa, do you know where Vera is?"

     At that moment, Vera walked in. "I'm right here, let go to my office,"

    You fake smiled Vera. "After you,"

    She flicked opened the door and you walked in after her and sat in one of her chairs lazily as she flicked the doors shut. "So Magus, I hear you have a Werewolf problem on your hand?,"

    "It's being taken care of,"

    "Oh? Well good. So what did you want me to see and why did you call me in?" 

    "I know you're a spy for the council,"

    You chuckled. "Yep. Totally am. Come on, Vera. I'm in the field almost twenty-four seven. I don't have time to spy on people,"

    Vera just gave me the 'don't lie to me' look. "Magus, I'm not. Even if I'm not what does that have to deal with anything?"

    "I was gonna have you spy on Edward,"

     You let out a short chuckle and sit in the chair right and looked at her. "You're crazy, right? Spying on the Grand Magus? That would cause me to get Pulveris memoria if I got caught or killed. Why don't you take your concern to the council?"

    Vera put her hands together and places her head on them. "They wouldn't believe me unless I got proof,"

    "Then find it yourself. I'm not gonna have you get my mind erased because YOU wanted to spy on the Grand Magus,"

    You got out of her chair and started to walk out but you stopped and looked at her. "This Jack Morton kid. What do you know about him?"

    "Parent less. Lives with his grandpa. Great athlete. Great student. Why?"

    "Remember beginning of last year when that potion messed up and it resulted me in getting a superior sense of smell?"

    "Yes, what about it?"

   "Morton has a certain smell towards him that I've smelled before but I can't seem to place,"

   "Okay and what about it?"

   You just shrugged. "Just something I thought I'd share,"

   You walked to the Blade and Chalice and sighed Vera really wanted you to get into trouble by spying on the Grand Magus for her own worries. Nope. Sorry Vera. But not happening. You opened the door and you were hit with the same smell that you smelt on Jack. You followed your the smell and found a blond hair guy, drinking. That's when it hit you. The reason you smelled it before was because you smelled it on him. The closer you got to him, all the memories started coming back to you. All the late night studying, the parties, the drinking, the hangovers, going out and celebrating every good grade you got on a test. Not only the memories came back but the feelings came back as well. You were almost about to walk way but something made you walk forward. "Hamish?"

     Hamish turned his head around, and he looked at you for a minute like he didn't recognize you but when he did, his jaw dropped as he looked you up and down. He met your eyes with his eyes and you could see the same thing that happened to you with all the memories was happening to him. "Y/N?"

    You slowly finished walking up to them. "Yeah, hi,"

    He stands up and goes over to hug you but hesitated. "It's been a while, what are you doing back?"

    You smiled at him and walked up to him and hugged him first. "Uh Vera called me in for a meeting,"

    He hugged you back. "Oh, what about?"

    You shook your head. "Nothing to worry about,"

     You let him go and sat at the table in front of where Hamish was sitting. "Tell me what's new with you?"

    He shrugged. "I'm a T. A and it's totally exciting! I mean just last week I had a freshman tell me that he did the homework, but he got drunk and threw up all over it,"

    You chuckled. "Freshman year in college, where the reality of life hasn't hit you yet,"

    He chuckled and then smiled at you. You and Hamish went to Belgrave together but your paths went into two different directions when you got accepted into The Order. You started to hang out with other people and him with others but you finally reconnected your senior year and you spent every chance you got with them but when you graduated, the council had promoted you to Adepti because you show great promise, and they needed more field agents and you accepted. You lost contact with Hamish after a while because you were traveling across the world and didn't have time to talk to him which hurt but soon the hurt stopped hurting. "But it's not as exciting as being a world traveler. How long have you been back in the States?"

     "Hmm like a month or two,"

     You had been out of the states for a good two years but you were summoned back to the states earlier this year because the council wasn't to happy with Vera and wanted me to spy on her after recent werewolves attacks. You were actually going to stop by her office, but she had called you first. "Why didn't you reach out?"

    "I've been busy,"

     He just smiled sadly. "Oh, I see,"

     "It's not like that. If I wasn't this busy, I totally would've called you,"

Hamish waves his hand. "Don't worry about it, I'm been busy too,"

     "Oh yeah? With what?"

     Hamish was about to answer when he was interrupted. "Ham-ster!"

     You turned your head and saw three people walking up to you and Hamish. Jack was one of them but the other two you hadn't seen before. As they got closer, you were hit with the same smell as Hamish and Jack. But you just ignored it because they may just be roommates or something. You looked back at Hamish and smirked. "Ham-ster?"

    He looked at you and jokingly told you to shut up and then looked at the black hair dude. "Absolutely not,"

    The girl looks at you and had a growl in her voice. "Who are you?"

     You didn't get a chance to answer before Hamish did. "This is Y/N L/N, we've known each other since our senior year in high school, we kinda lost tracked after she graduated and became Miss. World Traveler,"

    You looked over at Hamish and chuckled. "Is Hammie jealous?"

    Hamish gives you a smirk back. "Nope,"

     You two just stared at each other for few without saying something. You could see Randall just looking back and forth between you both out of the corner of your eye. "What's happening here? Are they mind fucking?"

     That broke Hamish's stare from you and he looked up at Randall and threw a napkin at him. "Fuck off, Randall,"

     Randall smiled at you and made you scoot over, and he sat next to you and the particular smell was so bad that it made you gag a little. "Do you guys all live together?"

     "Yeah, well besides Jack,"

     You turned and looked at Jack and smiled at him, "Nice to see you again Jack,"

      Jack just looked at you and didn't say anything. "Wait, you know each other?"

      You turned and looked back at Randall. "Not really. I know Alyssa and while I was talking to her, he had come up,"

     "Yeah, and she mentioned that I smelled weird,"

     You rolled your eyes at that comment but when you focus back onto Hamish, you saw that his eye were huge before quickly hiding that face. You thought that it was odd but you made a mental note about it.

     Lilith made Hamish scoot over and sat next to him and then Jack pulled up a chair from another table to your table. Randall put his arm around you. "So tell us some stories about Ham sandwich,"

     Hamish rolled his eyes and looked annoyed with Randall. "You're not calling me that,"

    You smirked at Hamish, and he knew exactly what you were about to say. "You want some stories about Mishy the fishy?"

     He just gave you an amused smile. "You wouldn't,"

    You made an o with your mouth. "Wouldn't I?"

    Randall looked at you and Hamish. "She can call you puny nicknames but I can't?"

    Hamish looked over at Randall and was about to say something but Hamish cringed in pain and you looked around and saw the other three doing the same thing. "Are you guys okay?"

It only lasted like a couple of seconds though. Hamish nodded his head. "Oh yeah, we are fine,"

You looked at them, confused. "Are you sure? You all four cringed in pain. Is there something that's going on here?"

     Hamish gives you a shy smile. "Of course not. We just got drunk last time and hangovers suck,"

     Before you could even say anything else, you felt your phone go off. You pulled it out of your pocket and it was Vera telling you to get to the temple. You looked up at Jack, and he looked up from his phone at you. "I've got to go. Nice to met you three. Hamish, text me later, and we'll catch some more,"

     Hamish took a sip of his drink and pointed at you. "You got it,"