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werenotadulting · 3 years ago

Text

Routine Procedure - Finale

Author's note - Hope you enjoyed!

Part 7 - Kate

If you'd asked her, Kate wouldn't have been able to tell what exactly had gotten her interested in it.

Maybe it was the idea of the power dynamic. She had always been one of those girls labeled as 'bossy' growing up, which was a misogynistic way of saying that she wasn't afraid to speak up and speak her mind.

Or maybe it was the subversion of expectations of a traditional relationship that did it for her. The idea that she was the one in control, the one making all the decisions.

Maybe it was the fact that it was so taboo and kinky that appealed to her. It didnt really matter, whatever the reason.

Kate was into being a Mommy Domme, and Kate found nothing hotter than having a diapered little bitch boy to call her own.

The ultimate fantasy was teaching the boy to love and trust his diapers. Make him associate orgasming with wet diapers and diaper changes. Create a leaking "accident" in public so he learns that while thicker diapers might increase the risk of being noticed, they save you from the embarrassment of wet pants.

Of course, she had considered bringing up her desires to Mike, but based off of past experiences, she didn't want to chance it. Mike was just too perfect of a guy to risk blowing it like that.

She had always been the dominant one in bed, with Mike eagerly submitting to her every whim, so she knew they were sexually compatible. It had never gone past light bondage though, and Kate was starting to get an itch that handcuffs and blindfolds just wouldn't scratch.

────────

It had come up entirely by chance, one day while she was scrolling through an obscure ABDL forum.

The post read: "Biomedical engineer here, and I think I've figured out a way to induce instant, semi-permanent incontinence."

The post was over 3 days old, and only had two comments on it. The first was from a mod, basically saying to take everyone's posts with a grain of salt. The second was from the OP, about 24 hours after the original post.

"I know it sounds like a fantasy, but I'm pretty confident it will work. I've had a career in medical devices for the last 8 years, specializing in the urology space. I don't want to get too deep into the details on here, so just PM me of you're interested."

Kate rolled her eyes.

Everyone in this community is so hooked on the 'I want to be instantly incontinent' thing, and all it ever ends up being is some silly fap content, she thought to herself.

"You know what, let's feed the troll and see what bites," she muttered.

Liv2DomU: ok spill, what's your magical method?

PrinceOfPadding: this for you, or someone else?

Liv: hypothetically, let's say it's for a boyfriend

Prince: Ahh okay. Very interesting. Well, like I said, I've worked in med device for awhile, and I've recently started my own company. I primarily work in the urology space, catheters, scopes, that kind of stuff.

Liv: hmm hate to break it to u bud, but catheters kinda already exist

Prince: oh sure, catheters exist, but my idea is to bridge the catheter world with the stent world

Liv: sounds idk...sketchy? illegal?

As she read more, Kate was beginning to think that this guy might not be as full of crap as she had initially thought. He had his own start-up, which had already launched a Foley catheter to the market. It was all above-board and legit.

Prince: so, for the aspiring incontinent-person-to-be, the ring is positioned with a catheter, and stays in place once the Foley is removed. Then overtime, probably a month at minimum, depending on the chemical makeup and customer desire, the ring breaks down and is naturally absorbed into the body. And they all sign a consent form saying they accept the risks of such a procedure.

Liv: so then once it's dissolved they are back to being being able to control their bladder?

Prince: that's the theory, yes

Liv: theory?

Prince: well, dissolvable stent technology present state takes like 18 months to break down, and the manufacturing of it is patented and kept under lock and key

Liv: so basically all you have to offer is a catheter lol

Prince: well no. I've got some good leads on dissolvable compounds, but I've got to do trials of the rings first to see if it would even work. I've promised free diapers for the first few months if people sign up, but it's been hard to get subjects

Liv: so these trial rings wouldn't dissolve?

Prince: nope

Liv: meaning my hypothetical boyfriend would be....?

Prince: permanently diaper dependent, yeah

────────

In the end Kate was curious enough that she was willing to hear the guy out.

He'd asked for a mailing address and her phone number. The first was to send proof that his company was real, and the second was just to keep in contact should she decide to proceed.

It all made sense, at least in theory. Foley catheters were safe, provided they were inserted by a trained healthcare professional. A normal person would get a normal catheter just like everyone else. But an ABDL would be signing up for what was essentially an intentionally faulty catheter.

Assuming they knew they were willingly signing up for it.

When asked about 'accidental' ring implants, Prince had basically said, hey, people really need to learn to read the fine print.

────────

I walked out to the mailbox. I've been expecting test results back from the scan I'd had a few weeks back. Opening up the box, I noticed a large envelope with my hospital's address on the front.

About time, I thought, grabbing the envelope and the rest of the mail.

I walked back into the house, where Kate was making herself a cup of tea.

"Anything good in the mail?" she asked, taking a sip from her mug.

I listed them aloud as I started to flip though the mail, "Looks like some junk mail, an internet bill, a brochure for some UroVention medical thing, and last but not least, my test results."

I dropped the rest of the mail on the counter and started to open up my scan results. As I was reading, Kate walked over and began sorting through the other mail.

"Oh good, they said it's benign, but they're still worried about the location. They're recommending removal, just to be on the safe side."

"Removal for something benign? That sounds odd, but whatever," Kate said, tucking something into her back pocket.

"I'm not too worried. It sounds like it should be a pretty routine procedure."

────────

Part 8 - Mike

I sat down on the couch, my diaper squishing underneath me. Kate had taken to putting two stuffers in my diaper, even though these Tykables could already hold a lot. The warm, comforting feeling of my wet diaper started to turn me on, just like it did every time I realized how wet I was or if I was about to get a change. Not that I could do anything about it, though.

I flipped open the laptop and signed in. It would probably be a good hour before Kate got back from the store. Apparently I was being downgraded from sippy cups to bottles.

Once logged in, I noticed that the screen was still up to the site where Kate had last been. It was another diaper order, this time a case of Megamaxes. I felt my cheeks start to heat up, seeing that Kate had chosen the pink color for the whole case.

I opened up a private window, and navigated to KinkLink. My profile on here was pretty bare. It always had been, just containing my age, gender, and some basic interests. I hadn't even bothered to post a picture when I set it up. I preferred to look at other people's profiles rather than post things of my own.

I was always intrigued by people's locations and how close they were to where I lived. One such person who I came back to check the posts of daily was a mommy domme, who it happened lived in my town. Her first posts, from nearly three years ago, were what had first caught my attention.

'Every night I dream about finding my perfect diaper slut. He will wake up to me rubbing his thick, soggy padding, the little bedwetter that I turned him into.'

'Picture this: You, in a wet diaper and nothing else. Me, in my black lingerie with a strap on. Do I have any volunteers?'

'Have no doubt, if you date me, it's diapers forever. There's no "only at home" or "but my parents are coming over". Maybe I'll just find a way to make you incontinent. Then you won't have an excuse.'

And then there were the pictures. She never would show her face, but she didn't need to.. She wasn't lying about the black lingerie. It left very little to the imagination. Then the next picture, where the bra came off, and she was just in her lacy panties, her pierced nipples and tattoos on display. Maybe it was the octopus tattoo on her arm, my favorite animal, that made her stick out to me.

But there was one post that I always came back to and was entranced by. It was a picture of her holding an ABU Kiddo, right below her breasts. She wasn't wearing any clothing.

'Aww baby, did you wet the bed? I think we should probably put you in some protection.'

────────

I stood in line at the coffee shop. It wasn't too busy for a Tuesday at 9 a.m., only two people were ahead of me. As the first person in line got her coffee and the second lady stepped up to place her order, I checked my phone. Still a half hour before I needed to be at work, I had some time to sit and enjoy my drink. I got my usual and went off to a booth in the corner.

"Excuse me, but do you happen to know what the Wi-Fi password is here?"

I looked up to see the woman who had been in front of me in line.

"Oh um, yeah it's....oh I think they just changed it. Try 'PINTO'. They always pick some sort of bean, I think they find it amusing, but it's never a coffee bean..." I trailed off.

She smiled, "Oh thank you so much, yeah I'll try that."

My mouth fell open is shock.

"I uhhh...I like your tattoo," I said. "They're my, um, favorite animal."

"Oh mine too! Isn't the octopus, like, the coolest animal?"

"D-definitely. Hey, would you like to sit with me? I'm just hanging out while I wait for work. My name is Mike by the way."

"That sounds really nice. Thank you, Mike. I'm Kate."

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lilyfreshwater · 3 years ago

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/gensrs can u tell me why it's such a big deal tubbo @'d ash in twitch?

i was thinking that if he's trying to slowly introduce ash to the community it means they're likely getting serious, and as we saw w philza and sneeg, other mid-to-big streamers can be in healthy public relationships w non-ccs. if he and ash both agreed to introduce him to tubbos offliners, and both seemed enthusiastic about it, it not like they didn't discuss the risks. tubbos not thoughtlessly putting a target on ashs back: the target is already there, and has been there since he started mentioning a close irl. doxxers, shippers and weirdos r gonna exist in the community no matter what, but if tubbo doesn't go looking for them, and uses the Twitter extension he showed on stream that basically erases his tl, he hopefully won't see the worst of em. that seems to he the life motto he's been sticking to. he can't live in fear forever, secreting ash away from an important part of his life. not to say he should throw away his privacy and all caution to the wind, but I feel like ultimately him trying to hide and accidentally leaking stuff would motivate ppl to dig. this is basically like a soft-launch of "Ash the IRL", and I think introducing him to the offliners, during a week where tubbo is in the mountains and taking a break from the internet, was a pretty tactical choice. (it also doesn't hurt so many other controversies r happening in mcytwt to drown it out.)

that's just my impression and I'd like to see ur perspective. is there an immediate threat to their safety to be worried about? maybe I missed something lol. thanks for any insight u can give.

if tubbo wants to make his relationship with ash public then thats his prerogative but everything hes said leaning up to this has been taht he doesn't want to be public about it so thats what im going with. my problem is tubbo says he doesn't go searching for this stuff but the momentary stuff weve seen from his search history proves otherwise, and considering the way hes handled streaming, mental health, and other stuff i just dont trust him to do this in a healthy way. i sincerely hope he does and that hes had conversations with people like phil and sneeg about having a public relationship and that he and his bf have talked about it and are confident but i just cant help feeling like this is him just feeling like he has nothing left to lose when that really isnt the case

#ask #frank's conspiracy theories

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i-need-air · 4 years ago

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bruh i almost really only if you’re okay with it wanna part 2 of kiri’s but like it has a married life and kids because dog hybrid kiri with kids or normal puppies too just sound adorable

That sounds so cute so I decided to mix both things. Here you have Kiri with doggos and kiddies 🥺💕

In here reader can get pregnant and ig goes by "mommy", I wanted to make it like this bc imagine smol lil kirishimas running around with smol black tails and wiggly ears and;;;; I'm soft—

Word count: 1.4k

[ Main Hybrid!Kirishima HCs ] [ Masterlist ]

× since we've established he starts as a dog trainer, expect to have doggos around the house all the time

× but it takes some good months for him to ever consider adopting one with you

× he's really aware of both of your financial situation so he'd need his business to boom before considering it, and maybe renting a bigger apartment

× what was good was that his internet fame got him sponsors and extra-cash

× whenever the time comes to consider it and talk it with you, he'd sit you down and mutter a cute "I was thinking—" while he's cuddling into your chest

× guess who's ready to do at the next shelter to adopt? Kiri is so eager to help another life 🥺

× adopts a big pitbull that's the sweetest thing in reality and in a few days he takes the doggo with him at work

× seriously loves seeing you cuddling big soft furry baby but gets jealous playfully; dog's in your lap? lifts you both up and now you're all in his lap, don't question it

× calls it Dynamo or something, saying he wants to honor his friend that he still had to find 🥺🥺🥺

× they're inseparable and look so intimidating together ajdjkejs until he smiles brightly and dog starts jumping around happy to exist; they both wiggle their tails and i swear just the cutest ever omg

× now before he considers children [ daydreams about it around 2 hours a day but sure ] he wants to be able to give you more

× saves up for a promise ring a few months in the relationship

× "My heart will forever be yours and someday I want to officially be able to call you mine" manly speech but he's tearing up while he puts it on your ring finger

× marriage between species was still a dicey issue, although it was legal some people still protested about it daily

× still believed in your relationship and was willing to take whatever came your way

× wants to do it the right way because he's a firm believer you deserve the best and wants to give it to you

× you did have to have a very small wedding but it did not matter to him and hopefully to you either

× KIDDIES!!!! skfjsljdhs I'm melting bc

× you guys planned it, right? it had to be a good time for both of you and had to have space for a smol little pack

× yeah, he calls it a pack; it seems it comes from his old days where his closest friends called themselves that and he now wants his own

× when you're settled and surprise him with the news???? falls on his knees, puts his forehead on your belly and sighs, taking his shaky hands to place them there too

× it's happening, it really is

× both him and Dynamo get very protective of you

× they've always been but it's as if the dog actually feels his owner on the edge protecting his mate

× from the day you've told him you're expecting he's gonna carry you around

× i mean, he likes to do it, leave him have it

× but he's fucking embarrassing as hell; once your belly starts getting bigger and let's say you find each other on the street, he's gonna pick you up bridal style and walk you home

× all the neighborhood simps for you both

× [ unrelated but everyone has a crush on him and are jealous of u, i don't make the rules ]

× doesn't matter if you scold him all flustered bc he's just going to laugh wholeheartedly and say some cheesy stuff like "It's just that I'm too happy right now" and he makes you shut up and boil of embarrassment

× oh my god; he puts his head on your belly and listens to two heartbeats [ has very good hearing ] and gets soft as fuck

× when the bundle of happiness arrives he's crying

× like he cries cries

× holds the baby and cries

× baby cries and he cries

× you're washing the baby and he observes the scene, crying

× absolutely adores both of you

× hear me out; smoll bby has an even smoler tail

× that they wiggle whenever they see their momma or dadda...

× yeah, from the first few weeks baby does that and it kills you

× [ imagine: ] it's 3 A.M., baby woke you two up crying and he kisses your forehead, urging you to go back to sleep; he goes to the baby's room and picks em up softly, holding them close to his chest and singing a sweet lullaby in his deep raspy voice, just above a whisper; Dynamo is a self-proclaimed bodyguard so the dog is always by the baby's door... you get up to see what's taking him so long and he's just sitting on the armchair in the room, kissing your baby's forehead tenderly...

× i really love the idea of Kiri having a daughter just because he'd be such a great dad; pick cute clothes, do her hair, play with her, have tea-parties; 🥺 strong big man with cute daughter? 💘💖💘💖💘

× gets so soft for his pup; calls your kid a pup; pup responds with wiggly tail

× she starts learning the puppy eyes from his dad and now, for sure, it's the death of you

× you're gone now, one of those looks and you can't argue anything and give in

× i feel he'd post about his family online and that's when his following would just explode, basically turning him into an advocate for hybrid lives and showing the world they're not different from normal humans; still keeps his privacy cuz people are mean mfs sometimes

× can we just accept the fact that they're both a mess? loud, clumsy and sunshine-y?

× her first words are Mamma and he instantly jumps in her face to ask "Hey, what aBOUT DADDY?!?!?!?"

× will get out of his way to make his smol sunshine giggle and her adorable cute laughs are his life juice

× gets energy to eat the world afterwards

× has this exagerated way of talking just to entertain the baby; even mundane things like: gasps —and I— dramatic pause to look around —made a MILKSHAKE! throws his arms in the air, making bb giggle and clap

× ridiculous dad;

× places your daughter on Dynamo's back and makes it carry her around like a horse

× gives her a paper made sword and roars a battle cry

× adorable squeal-like roar in response from his daughter

× also will have her be on his shoulders if you guys walk anywhere, keeping her in place by holding her chubby legs secured

× dumb songs for everything while they walk; "We're going to the mall, WE'RE GONNA BUY IT ALL, WE WANT SOME CHICKEN NUGGETS AND MAYBE GET SOME MUFFINS"

× "No."

× insert puppy eyes

× "... fine..."

× "WE'RE GOING TO THE MALL—"

× will want more children; like i said, he wants his own pack

× is more than happy to adopt hybrids too; he knows specially the youngest ones are treated badly so if you can't have children, please consider it

× because he will love them with all his heart and he has so much love and care to give

× just think about how he'd be surrounded with two, three children, all trying to climb on him, one hanging on his beefy arm, another clawing his leg, one on his shoulders; such a sight~

× every time he sees his kids doing anything he watches them carefully then turns to you with love in his eyes

× "You make me the happiest man alive"

× you gave him a new life, such happiness he only dreamed about in his darkest days and is thankful every single day;

× sometimes forgets how incredibly amazing he is, yet your words help him

× if your children call him the best dad ever?

× beams

× brighter than the sun itself

× will give it all for your family

× now and forever

#kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #hybrid!au #hybrid!kirishima #married Kirishima #kirishima headcanons #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #noire writes

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bondsmagii · 3 years ago

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Micáel please don't listen to the people coming into your askbox trying to make you pick a 'side' in the shipping debate, the whole thing is unbelievably stupid and they are NOT asking in good faith. I know u don't give a fuck about shipping, but these creeps (on both sides) demand to know the Stance of every single person they interact with so they can decide whether or not to send death threats or to make snap judgements of your entire personality from your choice and it's fucking stupid (1)

Anyway just. Don't listen to them, don't let them Sort you. They're trying to bring their stupid debate to you and honestly it is NOT worth the stress no matter what you believe. It's literally just shipping on the internet, like who fucking cares this much, log off and stop harassing random fuckin people and trying to indoctrinate them for your dumbass internet battle

truly don't worry lmao, I identified that ask as bait the second I saw it. it's just. I really... don't care? I genuinely don't give a shit about shipping drama or whatever, and if they want to put me on a side they can. I literally am not involved at all and they can think what they like, and if they want to decide I'm an Enemy and block me they're more than welcome.

the thing about these people is that they exist in an insular community where everybody acts like they do, so when drama flares it goes on and on and on, and everyone gets upset and stressed, and death threats fly, and what have you. I exist outside of this attitude, so if they try to start something with me I'm sincerely just not going to give a shit. I don't find their behaviour stressful because like. they're some anon on the internet flipping out over shit I don't even care about. the block button is literally right there and I utilise it.

I've already been called every name under the sun for the fictional characters I like, up to an including being called a paedophile and that I shouldn't be around children (for hypothetically saying I wanted a 500-year-old fictional villain to fuck me, a grown-ass consenting adult), a genocide apologist (again, for liking a fictional villain); I've had people tell me to die over jokes, I've been called racist for not liking a book, I've been called abusive for not taking people's shit. I've been called it all, baby, and I literally do not care. that's the problem when people jump to the most dramatic buzzwords as soon as they meet a differing opinion. it kind of dilutes the term and makes it very easy to ignore, and less likely that other people with brain cells will take the accusation seriously. (there's a lot to be said for the harm this causes, but that's a discussion that's far too advanced for people still trying to sort the world into a morality scale more likely to be found on a daytime TV show for two-year-olds.)

the thing is, I say what I say and then when I have nothing else to say, I stop interacting. you cannot have an argument with someone who isn't participating, and that's what these communities don't realise. they spend so long arguing in circles with one another that they expect every argument to go on forever. they're not used to meeting with people who find their argument so stupid that they feel no need to respond, and I think this shock makes them fly off the handle. not to mention they get rabidly mad at everything, so you don't have to wait long before they're accusing somebody else of war crimes. I appreciate the concern, but the day I feel stress over these idiots is the day I'll eat my own ass.

#anon #asks

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effymaybe · 4 years ago

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hello, author! deathbyjenlisa on wattpad has this prompt: future post-disbandment au where they live in a tiny little apartment in the middle of nowhere in Paris together with their cats and dogs, and they own like a flower shop or something. and finally, FINALLY doing a vlive together where they announce their relationship to the world. (may we have this piece from u? u r one of the best rpf writers i know. thank u in advance!)

deathbyjenlisa on wattpad I love you and I’m SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG I KNOW SUCK also here it goes!

Warnings: Fluffy fluffity fluff

Jennie closes her eyes as the faint afternoon sun caresses her glowing skin throughout the window.

She breathes slowly, content. Inside the just-conveniently-sized apartment, the atmosphere is still nice and warm despite the first bites of winter cooling down the air of the city.

The brunette is enjoying of a pleasant break after a few hours of frankly successful designing, and her previous artistic buzz has left place to a nice, tickly feeling still twitching in the pad of her fingers.

She sighs just as a fluffy warmth gazes against her legs earnestly.

“Hello, Lily. Miss mommy already?”

The cat looks up at her almost as if in agreement. Jennie leans down to pet her behind her ears, just as she likes it the most.

“I miss her, too. Maybe Jisoo is right. We might be a little bit needy”.

Lily keeps purring under Jennie’s soft hand, clearly happy with the attention she is given. The brunette smiles to herself. She figures that the kitten would actually hesitate if she had to choose between her two moms.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to.

“Okay, baby. Let’s get you an afternoon treat, yeah? Don’t tell the others”.

Lily’s silent vow of trust is pointless, really. As soon as Jennie shakes the so-secret pack of treats hidden at the very bottom of the kitchen counter, the whole feline family plus an equally excited Kuma enter the room with bright eyes and a grumbling stomach.

The brunette is unfazed. She’s been dealing with this routine for almost three years already, and despite she likes to complain to her girlfriend about her unmeasured need for adopting cats, she wouldn’t change the daily, often overcrowded cuddles for anything in the word.

“There”, she mumbles, filling her pets’ plates with practiced patience, “so that you know that I can be the cool mom, too”.

She stands straight again, glancing at the different furs engaging in their eating. A giddy feeling starts to bloom in her heart suddenly, a sense of happiness mixed with a now unfamiliar pang of uncertainty that weakens her limbs.

They are definitely taking a gigantic step today.

A very much needed, absolutely wanted step.

She runs her fingers through her rich chocolate hair, glancing around with a critical, designer eye as she moves to the living room. It’s small, really, like the rest of the place, but so fantastically decorated –according to a proud Lisa staring at a flattered but shy Jennie- that it often features a big bunch of house décor Instagram accounts.

The brunette puts her hands on her hips.

It’s beautiful. She loves her house. She loves the size, the shape, the colors, the fact that she can have a modest yet quite impressive sight of the Eiffel tower only by opening the French door to the balcony. She loves the city, the accent, the passion. She loves the people, who have taken her and her family wholeheartedly, without questions. She loves her sons and her daughter and she loves, loves, loves her girlfriend with every beat buzzing in her chest.

What she does not love so much right now are those yellowish pillows, that-

“Hello, love”.

An instant smile plasters itself in Jennie’s expression. Steady arms circle her waist tenderly, and plump lips kiss the column of her neck in a tender motion.

“Mmm, hi”.

God, she really behaves like a teenager whenever her girlfriend is around.

“Brought you flowers, baby”, she hears against her ear, and just then she glances down to catch the sight of daisies and red tulips contrasting against each other in a big, gorgeous bouquet.

“Thank you”, she mumbles back, taking the gift with pointed care, “but you are going to empty our shop if you keep taking flowers”.

Lisa chuckles lowly, pure affection dancing in her eyes.

“You know I always order extra just for you”.

The tallest girl lets her girlfriend spin around in her arms. Her expression softens even further at the sight of sharp, stunning features. Lisa’s right hand naturally drifts up to grasp Jennie’s nape in an unconscious attempt to keep her close.

It’s not that Jennie would like to leave, anyway. The shortest girl leans up, gleeful, and her girlfriend meets her in the middle to wrap her up in a soft, welcoming kiss. They spend a few delightful seconds just like that, enjoying each other. It’s unlikely, Jennie thinks sometimes, to adore someone with such strength month after month, year after year. And their love has changed, actually.

It has gotten better. Stronger.

So it’s time to take the next big step.

“I’m ready”, Jennie murmurs against Lisa’s lips, and feels a smile shaping against her own mouth.

“Okay”. The tallest brunette takes a step back to take in her girlfriend’s figure, feeling a soft warmth spreading in her chest. “You look amazing. I love the shirt. It’s a pity they’ll only get to see a half of you”.

Jennie chuckles a breathless thank you, pulling fully away from her lover to look for a standee where to place her phone. In the meantime, Lisa takes her time to greet the rest of her wide family, already full and half-asleep on their respective beds. When she comes back to the living room, her girlfriend is already sitting cross-legged on the wide, greyish couch, figuring out the best angle to gather the afternoon light. On top of the coffee table lies the bouquet she got from the small flower shop they decided to put up mainly as a hobby after their successful careers as Blackpink members.

Lisa can’t help the grin that stretches across her face.

She’s just so, so happy.

“Baby”, she murmurs, moving slowly to sit beside the brunette.

Jennie looks at her and tilts her head in a sign of attention.

“I love you so much”.

Lisa’s unprompted sincerity is rewarded with a gummy smile and a soft peck.

“I love you, too, beautiful”.

A message travels across their joined gazes. A renewed vow of loyalty, love, and support. It’s their way to letting each other know that they are ready, no stepping back. The time and their own effort have prompted the building of a bond that lasts beyond obstacles, beyond fear.

When Jennie presses the screen to start the live, they are both leaning comfortably against each other.

“Hi”, the shortest brunette mumbles after a few seconds. Against her skin, the soft vibration of Lisa’s muffled laughter makes her blush in a rush of shy joy. “This is Jennie”.

The tallest girl grins at her girlfriend’s soft tone. “And Lisa”, she adds cheerfully. “We are here… to talk…”

Jennie’s right hand moves unconsciously to caress her lover’s arm up and down, just as she does each time a bitter hint of anxiety threatens to deprive her from fresh air. In exchange, as a caring reflex, Lisa embraces her narrow shoulders with her arm, keeping the brunette’s body flushed against her own.

“…to talk about us… We’ve seen some theories on the internet since… well, even before Blackpink stopped making… official music”, Jennie adds, eyeing the rising number of viewers at the corner of the screen.

It’s amazing. It’s been years already, and their fans are as many and as supportive as they were before.

“By the way, we might have a surprise coming soon!”, Lisa intervenes, and watches with silent amusement as her girlfriend crunches her nose just slightly besides her.

“Lili, no spoilers!”, Jennie complains only half-heartedly, melting inwards as the tallest brunette pouts just slightly.

“Mmh, sorry, babe”, she hears against her ear then, and all her fake annoyance disappears as soon as it started.

She turns around, keeping up with her admonishing from just to see her girlfriend pouting deeper, and her wish is immediately granted. They look at each other for a moment, their expressions turning into soft, dizzy smiles dripping pure adoration, and it takes both of them a moment to realize that there are about a million people watching them interact at the moment.

“So, huh, us!”, Jennie states, turning towards the camera once again. “Us… so… where do we even start”, she giggles, somehow lost. There is so much to tell. So many tears, so many victories.

“Well… to answer the basics… yes, we are girlfriends”, Lisa speaks then, loud and clear, smiling brightly, almost as if illuminated by her own love.

Jennie feels a burst of pride striking against her heart. She knows that her lover is being so, so brave.

“Girlfriends”, the shortest brunette affirms, and her sharp stare meets Lisa’s open doe eyes. “As in dating, hand-holding, kissing girlfriends, not the best-friends-forever type”.

The tallest girl chuckles brightly, both because rambling Jennie is funny and adorable and also because the tension of the moment makes her chest feel tickly.

Well, it’s there now.

The world knows that Jennie is her girlfriend.

The sudden, pleasing thought of their truth being outwardly spoken makes her feel lighter, elevated as she stares at Jennie with an expression that even herself knows that screams whipped.

It doesn’t matter, really, because her lover’s eyes distillates a feeling of the same fashion.

They tear their gazes apart from each other only when the enrapturing sensation starts to die down in a soft giddiness. They glance at the appearing messages almost with fear, but sunned smiles bright up their features when they read –mostly- comments both congratulating them and asking a billion questions about their relationship.

“’Oh my god this is so shocking… who would say that two rich, adult women choosing to live together raising each other’s’ pets would be dating!’. Well, thanks for the sarcasm, Lisa’shoe… also, careful with that username”, Jennie murmurs. She rolls her eyes in feign annoyance, but her dopey grin stays in place. At her side, still embracing her shoulders in a protective side-hug, Lisa chuckles again, so visibly content, shining, that the shortest girl has to make an effort not to stare at her throughout the mirrored screen.

“Oh, ‘when did you start dating?’ I don’t think we can say exactly when, but...” Jennie begins, her eyes falling on her girlfriend as if searching for help.

“Some years after all the… shipping started, actually. It took us some time…”

“It took you some time if I remember correctly...”, Jennie plays, her sharp expression both softening and growing more electric.

Lisa smiles, all teeth and happiness, and gives in the need of squeezing her girlfriend against her just a little bit tighter.

“But I’ve always liked you! You know it!”, she complains, a slight whine tangling in her voice.

“Of course! I’m amazing!”, Jennie bites back, brushing her long hair past her shoulders in a mocking gesture.

“You are”, Lisa murmurs, staring deep into chocolate without a care in the world, and the sincerity in her words makes Jennie’s pulse speed up crazily.

She leans in for a soft, quick peck, unable to stop herself, and is greeted by such an elated expression when she pulls away that she has to kiss her girlfriend once more, just to steady her soaring heart.

She’s so, so ridiculously in love.

“Charmer”, she mumbles, blushing deeply, and turns around to read another thousands of totally-freaking-out-because-of-their-cuteness messages. “Thank you guys. Really. This truly means a lot for us... The girls know, of course”, she chuckles, “They knew before us, probably. Yes, we are working on something. Nope, no spoilers!”, she winks.

Lisa reads the comments as well, absent-mindedly tangling her long fingers in her girlfriend’s soft chocolate locks, perfectly warm in the familiarity of their home.

“Yes, we are still in Paris. We love it here. The flower business is going well”, she grins, “Yes, I am the best girlfriend ever, right, babe?”

Jennie raises a single eyebrow, but gives in anyways.

“Maybe. You are the only one I’ve ever had”, she teases, gifting her girlfriend a slight shrug.

“And the only you will have!”, Lisa answers back, a playful growl playing with her deep voice in a way that makes Jennie’s stomach tingle in a quite particular way.

“Likewise, Manoban. Ah, yes, our parents know. Lisa’s parents were supportive since day one. My mom… well, it took her some time. Now she calls her whenever she needs anything. Can you believe it?”

They continue the late afternoon like that, leaning against the comfort of each other, answering some of the million questions people over the world have about their relationship.

They knew it will be like that. The sheer support, however, left them truly stunned. They were told so many times that what they were doing was wrong, immoral, dangerous, that the almost absolute acceptance of the people that surrounds them hit them like a soft, fluffy pillow in a dizzy night.

When Jennie finally turns off the live –promising to make another one soon, and yes, to give away more details, and maybe to talk about the possibility of a wedding-, the hint of the pale moonlight is already creeping past their open windows.

Jennie and Lisa stare at each other with twinning grins playing in their lips.

“So, we just did that”, the brunette mumbles.

The apartment is almost silent. Their pets are still sleeping. Only the faint sound of the never-asleep city tangles with the mute electricity of the aftermath of their bravery.

Lisa’s bright eyes darken suddenly, urged by a rush of passionate love.

“We did that. And it went really, really well”.

Jennie smiles openly, her gums nicely on display. The tallest girl feels her heart growing three sizes against her chest. Her hands lock on her girlfriend’s waist, tugging, begging her to find a way to be even closer to her body, downing in affection.

The shortest girl does not disappoint. She moves to sit down on her lap.

“Baby, we did it”, she murmurs again, in a happy awe.

Lisa starts to giggle, and the soft sounds are mirrored by her lover.

“You were incredible”, she mumbles, then, locking her stare with her girlfriend’s once again. A strong feeling, an unspoken declaration moves through them, sparkling. With the corner of her eyes, unfocused as she favors the marvelous sight of her girlfriend’s face, Lisa can see the lights of their phones going off –probably some messages from their friends and family- but the girls stay put in their delightful bubble, nevertheless.

“So did you, love. Can you believe it?”, Jennie begins, letting her feelings pour out, both soft and heavy in her words, “Now they know that you are mine and I’m yours.”

Lisa swoons.

That’s something they’ve talked about. The need to be with each other freely, to shout out their hidden love at the top of their lungs, proud, shattering.

Lisa leans up for a deep, toe-curling kiss. When Jennie pulls out to draw in a happy breath, the tallest girl turns both their phones off.

The rest of their lives can wait. Right then, however, Jennie and Lisa are set to celebrate their thorough love in the way they like it the most.

#jenlisa #jenlisa scenarios #blackpink scenarios #blackpink fanfic

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korpuskat · 4 years ago

Text

Start Game [Tomura Shigaraki/Reader] - Part 4

[Ao3 Mirror] Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,817 Summary: Things don't always go as planned in new relationships... and finding out that he's a murder and leader of a terrorist group certainly isn't the plan. Contains DFAB but gender neutral reader; handjob, blowjob, vaginal sex

So, I had a really bad night so instead of doing Kinktober 8, here’s the final chapter of Start Game that I was sitting on. pls hmu if you see errors, I’m really tired dkjfddhgdgkjs

===== [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] =====

In the end, you knew nothing about him.

Memories sit like a rock in your stomach. It felt so obvious now- plain as day. Half your screen lit up with your chat log- days worth of conversations laid bare, the words making your chest ache. How could you be so stupid? He’d warned you about it. That he was a stranger. Just some guy you'd hang out with, play games with- the center of your little innocent, stupid daydreams. That's all it was supposed to be.

The other half of your screen is covered with a still image, a photo grabbed from a news cast pasted onto a tips wanted hotline. Every cell in your body has gone cold as ice, frozen as the image. In the chat window, tiny text appears below the log: dust2dust is typing...

It was true. You knew nothing about him after all.

You didn’t reply to him, fully aware you’d left him on read.

You’ve never done that before. Always, always you’d reply as soon as you saw his message, all too eager to talk with him, spend time with him. But then, he’d never been quite so forward. It was always about gaming, about hanging out- to be so transparent about it now…

dust2dust: are u free tonite

Your stomach churns, sickness rising in your throat- tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. They bubble over, blur your vision and wipe away the image of a man standing on a rooftop, his hair whipping around his face. Maybe you could believe it was someone else, the strange mask he wore obscured Tomura’s recognizable skin and scars, the image too far out of focus to tell his eye color, even the darkness had left his hair more gray-colored than anything. But beneath the long black shirt sleeves, bandages peaked out, uneven. His right hand, his left wrist.

The tip hotline poster sealed it all together. Shigaraki. The man in connection to the Hosu City incident and the attack on U.A. prior and, oh. The bandages. Shigaraki had been shot, hadn’t he? That’s what the article you’d dug up before said.

A villain. He’s a villain! You’ve been hanging out with him- he could’ve killed you!

You curl up on your bed, tug your blanket tight around your shoulders. Your phone is solid under your fingers- the number pad staring back at you. You could get him caught. You could stop him from hurting anyone else…. It would be so easy! All you had to do was dial the number, to just... push the buttons. That's all.

You squeeze your phone in your hand- and your thumb is stiff, aching- just push the button, just tap the screen- that's all it would take. Why is it so hard? You could prevent the next attack, could make the world a little safer, to be a hero-

So why can't you do it?

Ding! You flinch, close your eyes- will yourself to look away from the screen. You don't need to see the chatbox flashing, don't need to see the new message sitting on the screen-- but with the client open, he'll get the read notification just the same. You just... walked away from the computer is all. It's just that innocent, that easy- to pretend you aren't aching to talk to him. That it's an honest mistake and not your desperate attempt to keep your head together.

The notification rolls in on your phone- a banner dropping down over the screen: New message from dust2dust.

Finally, your thumb moves. A single tap- and the mobile app opens up, your chat log spreading out.

dust2dust: u there

All you want in the entire world is to say yes, to ask what game he had planned tonight. To lose yourself in whatever colorful world was his interest tonight- maybe he'd want to visit your Animal Crossing island again. But that is wrong… isn’t it?

Between a rock and a hard place- you can't turn him in and you can't go back. There's no good answer to this, no way to pretend you didn't know why he wore those gloves now. No way to pretend he hadn't put those hands on you- in you. And... you can't avoid him forever.

You fingers shake as they touch the screen, tap on the keyboard where they could not meet the number pad. I know.

The response is immediate.

dust2dust: Know what?

You sniffle, wipe your face. You're over the precipice, there's no going back.

Shigaraki.

The cursor blinks in the text box. dust2dust is typing... appears and is gone within seconds. Nothingness. The green circle beside his icon remains lit, his status online.

You rub at your face and struggle to type out:

I won’t tell anyone. I promise.

The words sound true; you couldn’t even work up the nerve to call the hotline. Turning him in… somehow feels scarier than messaging him. Talking to him.

You watch, wait for the typing notification, but it doesn’t come. All that changes is the green circle beside his name turns gray, the status below his username updates: offline. last seen one second ago.

A coldness lances through your chest, a pain far worse than before.

You spend the next day waiting. Maybe for death, maybe for Steam to give you a friendly little pop-up, dust2dust is playing… and maybe you’d join him. Like nothing had changed, you’d join his party, he’d admonish you for being late, give you that quiet, warm praise when you solo a monster.

But it doesn’t. When desperation for fresh air drives you out the door, you expect a man in a black hoodie waiting for you. Maybe to talk, maybe to so easily lay his hand on you, just to be sure you won’t speak of him.

He isn’t there. He doesn’t lurk around every corner, doesn’t come online- you check. Every time your phone buzzes your heart swells, and every time it’s not him. The status on his profile ticks upwards without fail, no matter how often you open the chat and want to find the right words.

It’s worse than you imagined, the loneliness. Your once real friend and oh, of course! Of course you’d have the sense to befriend Japan’s Most Wanted. No matter how much you remind yourself, it doesn’t change the icy pit in your stomach. It’s not dread, it’s not fear.

Because as much as you think about him appearing and exacting his vengeance for you knowing too much- he could’ve done it before. He took you to his home, touched you, let you sleep beside him- he could’ve killed you through any of that. Instead he was careful, wore gloves. Opened up, just the tiniest bit. He could’ve killed you and he didn’t. Could’ve shown up at your door— could’ve destroyed the whole building.

He didn’t.

And that makes the pain sharper, more acute. A horrible ache has taken root in your chest and won’t go away.

It’s a terrible makeshift metric for goodness: that he didn’t harm you when he could have. But that has to mean something, doesn it? All the time he’s spent with you… that can’t be nothing. He risked exposure to be near you- and thus far has not left you in the dust.

Offline. last seen one day ago.

It has to mean something, it has to. That’s what you tell yourself as you slip through your apps. In your internet tabs there’s one that catches your eye. A map, a google search for restaurants near me with a bright red pin stuck into a satellite image.

It has to mean something.

You repeat that mantra over and over, even as you step off an unfamiliar metro line. It can’t be for nothing, can it? You walk, follow the directions back to your pinned location. The weeks spent talking and gaming even before he’d laid hands on you, when you still looked at him with star-struck eyes and a naivety that must’ve lasted longer than you thought.

He has to be busy. Can’t spend all his time in the arcade, being prickly and antisocial to everyone but you. That has to mean something.

You stumble through darkened streets- your journey having taken much longer than expected with your shaking legs and three separate breakdowns to consider if you were completely batshit.

The tiny distance calculator counts down as you walk and that might be the only thing keeping you sane. A nice little number to watch tick by as you approach a run-down section of the city. Sure enough, you end up outside a characterless building. It doesn't look right- where you had been was certainly somewhere lived-in, his possessions covering the shelves. But then, wouldn't a more nondescript building be more suitable?

You bite your lip, stand before the building in question. Your hand shakes as you approach- a broken BAR sign flickers once in the window. This is such a terrible idea, your worst, really. Bad enough to befriend a villain, but to go back? Maybe you should take a fourth break to debate if you've really lost it. There’s no turning back.

You reach out, fingertips brush against the door- it’s ripped open.

“Whatever, I’m-“ A man’s silhouette blocks most of the doorway, his face cast in shadow, backlit by the soft yellow of the would-be bar’s interior. He stops, looks down at you- and your bravery plummets to your toes. He glares at you with narrowed eyes ringed by heavy scars and facial piercings. “Who’re you?”

Your voice dries up- the reality of it all setting in too fast. “Oi, what’s-” Your attention snaps from the scarred man’s face to just over his right shoulder.

He looks just like he did in the press release: a terrible white hand grabbing his face, obscuring everything except one bright red eye. An eye staring you down, opened impossibly wide, pupil blown full, eclipsing the red of his iris till only a sliver remains. But it's him and the relief that washes over you makes it feels like years since you last saw him, not simply a day and a half.

The scarred man looks over his shoulder towards Tomura, raises one eyebrow- but Tomura doesn't even see him. Doesn't acknowledge him at all, doesn't see anything except your face.

"Oh, so this is your problem." The man huffs, shoulders past you.

And with him gone, all that is left is an unobstructed view into the bar, of Tomura Shigaraki, wanted villain, easing himself off a bar stool. He moves slow, but you watch his fists clench and release over and over, long, slender fingers drawing invisible lines in the air in a motion you've become all too familiar with.

Your hands shake, but you step through the threshold just the same. The door closing behind you is only faintly alarming, but with every sense attuned to the man before you, you don't have much thought to spare. He steps towards you, just one foot the first time- a test, a measurement- and though you cower, you don’t run.

That’s all he needs to know.

He’s on you- you hadn’t even seen him move. No more than a blur of black and the gray of the bloodless hand- and you’d think by now having him pressed up on you wouldn’t make your heart stutter in your chest. It does, though. But this time, this time you know the danger of his touch- of three fingers and a thumb curled over your throat.

“How did you get here?” He hisses, the threat of his hand has spread to his throat, the one eye now only half-visible under the misplaced fluff of his hair.

His hand eases off your windpipe just enough for your voice to eke by. “Phone saved the location.”

It feels wrong to speak of your almost normal date with the violence in his eyes. "Why are you here? Playing bait for the heroes?"

"No," You shake your head, your chin rubbing along the inside line of his hand. "No, I swear. I didn't tell anyone."

"Then why?" His eye narrows down to a slit, the damaged skin there folding in tight.

Your tongue wets your lips, your mouth parted as though that would make the words come easier. "I don't know." It's true; you knew coming here was crazy. "I... I missed you."

Even from behind the hand, you hear the hitch in his breathing. His eyelid lifts, rage giving way to something else. He stares at you, hardly moves but the gears turn in his head, "You're lying."

Tomura's wrist is cool under your fingertips- his pulse jumps as you touch him. It's not a plea for him to get off you, your hand not tight around his wrist- it's hardly more than a brush of your skin against his. "I..." Shame makes you look down to his feet, the same red sneakers you've come to love on his feet. "I didn't know what to say when... when I figured it out. I was scared." His grip shifts, as though confirming that you should be- "But... then I kept checking my phone. Waiting for you to message me. But I... I knew you wouldn't and... I couldn't find the right words. I thought maybe being here would be easier..."

"Is it?"

It's so disarming, so honest, you struggle to catch your breath. "Can I see you? I mean, could you...?"

Tomura waits a moment, but he does it nonetheless. His right hand never leaves your throat as he grasps the preserved palm with three fingers, drawing it away from his face. Your heart races- and from the twitch of his thumb over your jugular, you think he notices too. It's still him, of course- brow creased even more than usual, eyes tightened around the corners as he judges you.

"Tomura," You breathe, more sure. His face twitches, something just beneath the surface dying to break free. Still smothered beneath his suspicion. "I missed you. You're... the only person I really have and when I thought of never being able to talk with you again or- or touch you," You feel your cheeks heat, shame driving your gaze back down. "I couldn't stand it."

His breath shakes, his eyes like blood dart across your face, searching for something there. You're trembling so hard- anxiety and adrenaline rushing together in one awful slurry- you hardly even recognize that his hand is trembling too, his last finger twitching to come down and end it. It's not his finger that touches you.

All at once you think back to him standing beside you in the arcade, laying next to you in his bed: his hand on your skin, his breath warm across your face- he lingers there, eyes spread wide in something you dare not name. Not until he decides- and surges forward, presses himself to you completely, angling himself to find every inch of your body he can against his; his long legs set just inside yours, his thin torso leaves you hardly any room to breathe, his free hand raising to grab the side of your face- and with a burning need, he devours you. With lips and teeth and the tips of his fingers digging deep into your flesh, leaving eight bruises behind- and when his mouth drifts from yours, down onto your neck more bruises follow.

His tongue is hot and wet, laves a humid streak up from collar bone to jaw, leaves you shuddering and digging your fingers into his hair with a plea of "Tomura,"

"I knew it." He says, half laughs against your throat. The skin there tingles with the latent pressure of his hand, the threat that never came to fruition- then sparks as he kisses, messy and too wet, nipping freely, littering your skin with marks until you're panting. "I knew you meant it, that you're mine."

The word makes your knees weak, an airy moan escaping from your lips- which only fuels him to keep going. "You- you want to touch me?" The giddiness is back, an ecstatic trill in his voice, a shiver wracking down his body- all the way to the tips of his fingers that catch your wrists. "Then go on, touch me." He doesn't actually give you a choice, he shoves your hands against him, forces your palms up against the firm bulge in his pants.

Shock makes you tug against his hands for a moment- and for one agonizing second, Tomura's face falls. His too-wide grin- the one that puts you right back against the wall in that dim hallway- slips from its upturned joy. And then you touch him. Even with his demanding control, it's different when you actually do it: your fingers curving around the shape of him, feel his weight through the cloth. His breath catches and though you're sure it feels good, the twitch of his brow into something almost like surprise- just a flash of emotion before dissolving back into that thrilling, dangerous smile- has you thinking it's something else.

You palm at him and his hands loosen, lets you explore. A squeeze makes him grunt, and you take that as a good sign. Your best attempt to stroke him through his pants has his hips pushing into your hands. Though you need to bite your lip to keep yourself grounded, the loose, stuttering jerks of his hips give you enough courage to do more. Tomura stares at you, point-blank, inches from your face as your fingers quiver but dip below the waist of his pants.

The grin widens and nervousness makes your breaths come in quick- but when have you been able to say no to him? You push his pants down- and his cock bobs free, just as you had imagined how it looked when he was grinding on you: long and pale, the head a blushing pink, half-exposed, peeking out from under his foreskin. It's practically radiating warmth and throbs as you hesitantly wrap your fingers around him properly for the first time.

You just hold him for a moment, stumbling over what you should do- and his hand finds your wrist again. You welcome the help; he's not shy about what he wants you to do. He curls your fingers in tighter, tighter- until you'd be worried you were hurting him if he wasn't currently fucking your hand, half the motion coming from his grasp on your wrist, half from his hips. It's rough, the skin of your palm dragging against his cock, your strokes unlubricated except for the sweat of your palms and the first drips of precum that squeezes out each time your thumb and index finger squeeze up around the head. On the downstroke, the thin hood of skin slides back, fully reveals the pink skin beneath.

"You're doing so good," Tomura's voice is husky, rasping next to your ear. His gaze flits between your hands on his cock and your face, watching as your expression evolves- lingering when you lick your lips.

"Wait," You work against his grip to still your hand. Tomura whines, ruts once against your palm, fingers twitching as he tries to control himself. There's a question in his eyes, one you soothe with your free hand touching his side, then with words. "I want to... try something." His brow twists, one eye narrowing- until you're bending your knees. In the meager space he's left between himself and the wall, you slide down. His breathing hitches and something wild passes over his face.

You touch his legs, still covered in his dark pants. Beneath, his thighs are slender, but solid. One hand slides into your hair, bitten-short nails scratching at your scalp- spark a shudder that jumps down each vertebra, prompts you to look up at him. With his hand in your hair, you follow the long, thin line of his arm to his face. From below, he's menacing, face completely cast in shadow, his hair now framing the damaged and ruined skin of his features instead of obscuring them. Just like this, you're one finger away from a death too many people have seen. Maybe you should be concerned on why, exactly, that makes your mouth water.

His fingers- all except the littlest- press down at the top of your head, bring your mind back to the matter at hand. What you had wanted to try.

It's different being level with his cock. Before it was intimidating, something new and unfamiliar- but at least you had Tomura's hand to guide you... or really hold you still so he could use your hand. And that was good, amazing, even- to hear his panting up close and feel him, really feel him as he throbbed in your palm. But you worked up the courage to come here, you made some kind of horrible realization about your own desires in this world and you want to follow that thrilling conclusion to its end before common sense can catch up to the adrenaline.

Down here, with your thumbs sliding up beyond the hem of his pants, stroking at the expanse of pale, smooth skin of his thighs- barely dusted with hair so thin and pale it looks white, it's different. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, foreskin eased back into half-covering the head, a shiny bead of precum glistens at the slit. You touch him, squeeze just how he showed you- and feel the thick vein on the underside pulse hard beneath the pad of your thumb. You resist the urge to swallow, instead opening your mouth and easing out your tongue.

The first lick makes his cock twitch, though you think it's more the sight of you on your knees than the actual sensation. The taste is not quite what you expect; a single bead of precum and that which has smeared is not the bitterness you expected. It's mostly watery, a faint tinge of sweetness that settles in the middle of your tongue, soaks in deep. The next lick is less timid, more adventurous. You press the meat of your tongue up against the underside and stroke upwards, feel his pulse quicken. As you reach the tip, his hips twitch.

This time, you ease him into your mouth- and a wonderful little muttering of "Fuck." that goes straight to your clit. His fingers slide back from the top of your head, down to curl around the back of your skull. He gives you another guiding push, urges you to slide down his length a little more. It's something you can do- it's easy when he's the one talking you into it. And the praise that follows- "That's it, that's right,"- makes you shiver, makes you shift impatiently and try to swallow him down.

You bob easily, your hand covering what your mouth can't, each stroke smooth and slick with the saliva that slips from your lips. Each sound he makes is a badge of honor and you chase them without shame- Tomura's half lidded eyes and lopsided smile is all the sign you need to know he's thrilled with your attempts. Like building a catalog, a reference- trying anything you can think of and waiting for his noises, measuring your success with impatient thrusts and broken-off sighs, choked-down whines.

You sink down on him until your lips meet the sides of your fingers and you have to lay your hand against him, fingers pushing into the mess of pale hair along the base. Your jaw aches, but you want to try- want to swallow him down, to make him lose himself to your mouth just as you'd done to him. His cock touches the back of your tongue and saliva wells up around him- half an inch further and he brushes the back of your throat; you choke.

Your throat spasms, a wet noise escaping from your lips- you struggle to cough around his cock, feel shame rise in your cheeks as you try to pull away- and are stopped by Tomura's hands at the back of your neck, by his voice.

"Oh, fuck yes." He's staring down at you, blood of his iris completely lost to the black of his pupil. He pushes at your head, urges you back down. "Do that again."

Embarrassment washes away, leaves you wide-eyed, something like pride welling up instead. The head of his cock still on your tongue, you play with it for a moment. Breathes even and slow through your nose as you lick at his foreskin, slip your tongue in between. That earns you a sharp intake, so you swirl your tongue around the head, let the almost sweet taste of his precum coat your mouth until you're finally ready to try again.

He touches the back of your tongue and again your mouth floods in response, spit leaking from your lips to cling to his cock and drip over your chin. A deep breath and you do your best to flatten out of your tongue, let him slide in- it's not so severe this time. Like the itch in your throat before a cough, trying to suppress that urge makes your eyes water, so you squeeze them closed. You take him a little deeper- and Tomura moans as your throat constricts around him again; his hands keep you still as you instinctively struggle.

Your nails bite into his thighs, but the warning goes unheeded, utterly ignored as his hips rock, forcing his cock further into your throat. Protests muffled in your throat, but from the way Tomura's eyes roll back, you're not sure he even understands.

"Here, here," He says, one hand catching your chin with three fingers. He draws your chin up, tilting your head back- and the pressure in your throat eases. Breathing through your nose, catching your breath, you again find yourself staring up at him. With careful fingers, he brushes a loose hair from your face- and ghosts his thumb just below your eye where the gaging has made them water. He hesitates there, can't find the words for what he wants to ask. He doesn't have to. It's awkward to nod with his cock still in your mouth, halfway down your throat, but you do your best anyway.

With his hands returning to their place at the base of your skull, you resume. With the new angle, it's easier to take him in. Even if you do have to pause to choke, your own will keeps your hands at the backs of his thighs, keeping him from pulling away from you. Tomura loves every second of it, watches you from above with rapt eyes, keeps your hair out of the way so he can watch his cock disappear further and further into your body. You're doing so well, you look so good, he wants to tell you, but every real word has left his head, leaving him drooling and panting and he wants more

The tightening of his fingers into your hair is the only real warning you get. First, an easy stuttering of his hips, the same little motion that he's tried to suppress before- it makes you choke again, but you know he likes it- and perhaps you do too, feeling wetness well up in your eyes at the pressure in your throat, how your head feels light and empty as you struggle to breathe around him. But usually he gives you a moment to compose yourself- not this time. He whines and through tear-blurred eyes his face contorts in pleasure- his hips thrust again. You sputter, relax your jaw, and let him.

Each stroke makes your throat ache, itch as you fight the coughing fits that build up in your chest, but his next thrust has your nose brushing that tangled mess of hair. His scent, the musk of sweat and arousal fills your nose- and while Tomura greedily fucks your throat, one of your hands falls between your legs, rubs hard against your clit. The long-needed pressure makes you moan- and the vibration of your voice has him rambling, words too half-formed, too broken up by high-pitched, heady noises, too buried under the slick noise of his cock in your mouth for you to piece anything together except:

"Cum- ah!- gon' cum- I- oh," He breaks off again- his teeth sinking into his lower lip. You hold onto the back of his thigh- let him use your mouth until he's gasping, fingers twisting hard into your hair. His cock throbs on your tongue- and with his next thrust, sharp bitterness fills your mouth. With how Tomura moans above you, his brow drawn in high and tight, mouth hanging open, his cracked lips burning bright pink with his teeth's abuse, you couldn't begin to imagine not loving it.

He pulls you in close and you gag again, closer, closer until your nose is buried in those short hairs. Tomura's head falls backwards and all you can see past the black of his shirt is the long column of his neck and red, scratched skin there. This deep you struggle to breathe, to pull in enough oxygen around his cock, but the little dying whimpers of him riding out his orgasm is all that matters in the world right now. He pulls back before blackness can eat at your vision-

and for a moment, Tomura stares at you with such wonder in his eyes. His hands leaving your hair to grab the sides of your face, tilting your head so he can look at you. You can't imagine you look good, covered in tears and spit from gagging, but he runs his thumb along your lip all the same. He pulls you up by your jaw and you have to claw your way up his clothes to keep pace, near falling with your legs half-asleep- his mouth crashes onto yours. His kiss makes you lightheaded in a way even his dick could not, leaves your head spinning as you hold onto his shoulders for dear life.

His legs move, stepping backwards, but his arms give you no choice but to stumble along with him, half-dragging you as he goes. "Good, so good, perfect," He praises between kisses, "My perfect little pet," Another barrage of kisses, so fast and haphazard you can't begin to reciprocate before he's breaking away again. "You'd like that, right? To stay here and be mine." You try to say yes, yes but he's back on you, drawing your lip into his mouth and sucking too hard; all that comes out instead is a high-pitched whimper. You don't even realize where he's taking you until he's pushing backwards through the purple curtains into that dark hallway beyond. He fumbles behind him with one hand until he finds the doorknob.

The lighting is no better than before, a paused game screen lighting up the room in harsh blue light. He doesn't give you long enough to take it in. The room spins as he moves you like a doll, turning you around and shoving you back against his bed. Your knees catch on it and you fall back- and Tomura is back on you in seconds.

This time, he bypasses your mouth, lips latching onto your neck while his hands shove your shirt up and up until he can grope at your chest. Pain shoots from your neck at the harshness of his bite, his teeth sawing into your flesh in desperation to mark you, to force more noises from your mouth- while he catches your nipples between thumb and finger. Whatever had been holding him back before is gone now- he's rough, unhinged, twisting and tweaking at your chest, pulling on your nipples until your chest has to arch with him to assuage the pain. His mouth pops off your throat, breath ghosting over the wet, aching spot he's left behind before he finds another spot closer to your collarbone.

This hands, too, move along. The minimal patience he had for your shirt is lost on your pants; his fingers twist into the fabric and you're gasping for a reason other than his ruinous mouth. Cool air greets your heated skin- and his fingertips push between your outer lips. Tomura immediately detaches from your neck, a long trail of saliva hanging between his lips and your skin as he rears back at his fingers. You already know what he sees; the warmth has been building between your legs for far too long, the ecstasy of letting him use your throat, of listening to him lose himself in you- it hasn't been without effect on you. A single huff of laughter and he's back over you, teeth nipping at your earlobe as he taunts you. "This wet already? You're so dirty," He kisses over the still stinging mark he left, "I knew you liked things that were wrong."

His fingers slip through your slick, dragging it up to your clit. He swirls the pads of his fingers around it, fans the flames in your belly until you're squirming, begging into the darkened room, "Please, please,"

"That's right," He sighs, giddiness still making his voice light and airy, "You want me, don't you? Need me?" You can only whimper and nod, chase his fingers with your hips. "That's alright, I'll take care of you."

He shifts just enough to shove his own pants off his thighs and kick them off- and his left hand holds your thighs open as he settles between them. With his right, he grabs the base of his shaft- and you can't suppress a whimper as the head of his cock slots between your plump lips. He nudges against your entrance, teases your tight hole- before letting it slide through your arousal, coating the underside and rubbing against your clit. The head, fully revealed, peaks up between your legs as you look down- and it dawns on you that yes, this is really going to happen. He's going to be inside you-

And Tomura grins, leans in close to your face until you could trace every scar, even line across his face. As elated as he looks, his voice holds a dark sincerity. "I'm going to destroy you."

It's a promise and he delivers. He pushes into you- wetness eases his way, but he hadn't even stretched you. The head makes you pussy ache, sting around his girth, but he doesn't stop there. He breaks you open, cleaves his way deeper, forces your tight cunt to bend to his will and you do. Your body flutters, strains to accommodate his desires until he's buried inside you completely. Your thighs shake, tremble with the desire to latch around his waist and keep him still- but his hands are already settling just behind the bend of your knee.

"I told you," He says, pushing on your legs until you're bending in half, knees nearly meeting your shoulders. Above you, he consumes your vision, your world. Everything you've ever known fading away in favor of Tomura's scarred face and the way his hair sways when he moves. "You'd like it like this."

And Tomura plants his feet and thrusts. One stroke and your hands are scrambling over his sheets. He drives into you with reckless abandon- any finesse he might've had lost in your soft, pliant, heat. It doesn't matter. The extreme angle has his cock pushing in deep, touching all those new, sensitive places you've never found before. Every motion has him filling you up to bursting, the stretch making your body sing around him until unintelligible noises fall from your lips.

It's too much all at once; his cock is redefining your life, stroking each nerve into a new awareness while he's so close you can nearly kiss him, yet just inches too far, leaving you only able to stare at Tomura's features in rapt wonder. His gaze has long since become lust-hazed, his teeth sinking once more into his lower lip in a feeble attempt to stay quiet- but in reality it does nothing to stop the feral grunts that come in time with his cock pounding at your cervix. Worst of all is the arrhythmic stroking against one sensitive patch of your front wall that makes your entire pussy tingle and spark to life, driven so close to the peak you can't quite reach.

"Tomura," You can barely breathe, each punctuation of his hips knocking the air from your lungs. He doesn't respond, doesn't acknowledge you at all, opting to lower his head and pant against your chest. The heat makes sweat gather, your skin prickle- your arms waver, weak and near lifeless as you reach for his wrists.

"Tomura," repetition makes awareness filter back into his eyes. He stares at you from under the undulating wave of his hair, stray, sweaty strands sticking to his forehead in a wild fringe. "Please," The word barely makes it past your lips as another brutal punch of his hips has your eyes rolling.

"Tell me." His grasp on your legs tightens, digs in until you know bruises color your skin.

"Touch me."

Tomura's breath catches, his hips stutter as that dangerous spark returns to his eyes. He doesn't look away, holds your gaze as his right hand slides from your leg to your belly. With the rest of his fingers curled into a tight fist, the side of his thumb finds your clit. He doesn't even have to move it; each thrust makes your body sway with him, rubbing in time with his cock.

It's immediate- the tightly-wound arousal that's been aching in your belly flares, sparks finally catching in ignition. He keep fucking you, driving your high up and up until you can't stand it, hands grabbing at his arms just to have something to hold on to, something too desperate to be human escaping from your lips- until your mouth falls open and everything comes crashing down. The dam breaks; pleasure flooding out your need, cascading through your body, whiting out everything that isn't his touch, his voice, his cock- and you're arching, twitching, your cunt clenching around him as your clit throbs with his never-ending thrusts.

It's too much, watching you cum, feeling your walls contract around him until you're so tight he can't move and it hurts, your cunt milking him for everything he has and he drives into you until he can't anymore just to see how your legs and fingers twitch in overstimulation. He gives no thought to the way he's drooling mindlessly, how tightly he's gripping your leg- he cares only for the hot, wet sleeve of your pussy and the way your eyes have rolled back because of him.

Tomura cums so hard he shakes, sees stars- his cock kisses your cervix as he fills you, forever marks your pussy as his. His injured arms don't last much longer, but even with how his world goes fuzzy, he's careful with his hands, pulls each finger into cautious fists. Your legs ache from being bent for too long, falling down to rest on either side of his slender hips. Sweat dampens your chest, but he doesn't mind, rests the side of his face there, breathes hot air into the divot of your breastbone.

Your arms fight you, want to lay boneless where they landed, but with several movements that make you feel more like a loose marionette than a human, you find Tomura's back. One hand slides under the wide, loose collar to find the bandages there, the other cups the base of his skull where sweat has dampened the short hairs there that curl wildly.

The stale, unmoving air takes too long to help you cool down- fluids drying on your skin making you itch, feel disgusting-- but the weight of Tomura's head on your chest and his slow, even breaths keeps you anchored in place. But even Tomura must feel uncomfortable because he soon stirs, tipping his head to lay lazy, open-mouthed kisses across your chest. Another movement has you hissing- his hips shifting as his softened cock slips free- and so does the gush of fluids that run over the curve of your ass, pool onto the sheets.

Tomura doesn't even notice, lifting his head to meet your eyes again. In the blue light of his screens, you can make out how his pupils have released their stranglehold over his irises- which in the lighting look purple. Muscles feeling a little more human, you touch the side of his face- and speak the words you've been dreading. "What now?"

He blinks, slow and easy, catlike. When his lips part to speak, they stick together. "We never did play another game of Cloud Seven." And his mouth spreads into a grin- just soft enough, just rounded enough to perhaps be happiness.

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g0ldengubler · 4 years ago

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chapter 8 ~ the party...

A/N: im sorry for the chapter seeming very rushed and quick. i was mad at myself for taking forever of chapter 2 of positions but get ready for chapter after chapter coming up as a holiday gift :) also thank you guys so so so much for 400 followers and im sorry i’m saying my thanks now. it really means a lot to me :’) i hope u guys are still here and thank u for reading :)

Category: fluff

CW: cannabis use; consumption of alcohol; mentions of sex

Word Count: 2360

before you read | next chapter

masterlist

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

Spencer's POV~

We had the whole weekend planned: go fishing, read by the lake, walk through the forest and appreciate nature in all its beauty. But in a bittersweet turn of events, it ended up raining the whole time. So we ended up spending our time inside, reading to y/n in the afternoon while she sipped on her coffee, going out to the balcony at night and look at the stars because that was when the clouds would pull apart until the day came where we woke up to the peaceful sound of rain hitting the windows and the roof. I rambled on and on with what I knew about space and constellations as she let the sensations of the blunt or joint she rolled up take over her body, relaxing her.

As the weekend went on, after the first night, I didn't know what I felt about her. She was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. The way she spoke was like poetry to my ears. When we smoked and just lay out on the couch, the way she would explain her thoughts gave me butterflies. This was all really new to me, falling for a girl and having some kind of a chance that it could happen. Was there a chance there? I'm a profiler and I can read people by their micro expressions, especially when someone's in love. But with her, I couldn't even read her micro expressions. It bugged the hell out of me, but I would let it out through cuddles that happened naturally and little kisses that'd happen out of nowhere.

On the last night, it was pouring down rain, harder than it would the last couple of nights where it would only sprinkle. We had made some popcorn and y/n thought of the idea to listen to old time radio ghost stories that were then put out on the internet as podcasts. While it was playing, she grabbed her grinder and looked inside. We had pretty much finished the last of our stash this morning for what she called a "wake'n'bake", which was definitely a great way to start the day. She quickly grabbed the bong from the kitchen counter and started packing it with what I thought was nothing.

"What are you doing, silly?" I asked.

"Just packing a kief bowl." She said, very nonchalant.

I gave a confused look, then she rolled her eyes and explained, bringing the grinder closer to me. "See all this? This has all the different strains we smoked. With all of this mixed together, we'll be really really gone."

She continued to pack the bowl as I sat there ready. She grabbed the lighter when she was done and explained how she'll smoke half and I'll take the other. I watched as she put the top around her mouth. A huge cloud exhaled out of her as she moved her head up to the ceiling, which then after started coughing up a storm. I offered her water but she pushed it away, trying to say she was fine.

We continued to smoke bowl after bowl a few more times until there was nothing left in grinder. Y/n nuzzled her head onto my chest as we lay on the couch, letting those tingles intensify our senses and our minds wonder. She was right, this was probably the most high I've felt before. Every movement we made was slowed down and I could see that my arm was as if it was split in two, but was transparent like a ghost. I could barely even move as the sensations were too overwhelming in the best way possible, let alone try to figure out if this was what being this high was like or really how the brain can do this, but I also wasn't really trying either and let the waves relax me.

As I played with her hair, I couldn't pay attention to the episode because all of my thoughts were of her. I wanted this all the time, the stillness and calmness that brought peace and happiness to the atmosphere-that she brought to our atmosphere. I wanted her to feel safe in my arms and never let go. Getting to know her like this on a deeper level ever since we first met made me fall in love with her everyday we were together bit by bit. I never want to let go of her.

"Do you ever have the fear of giving your heart to someone?"

Her question shocked me, breaking the process in my head. I didn't know what to say but, "What do you mean?"

"Have you ever given your heart to someone, doesn't even have to be romantically, giving them you're all and love and care, to then suddenly watch them break it bit by bit as if they're breaking down the wall that you had built for yourself, instead of you taking each brick off piece by piece and handing it to them?"

There was silence. No words that I could think of could answer a question like that.

"I've given my heart away to so many people, and I don't know why they break it every time." She moved to where she used her elbow for support in between me and the couch. "Spence, I wish we could stay like this forever. I have these feelings for you that I never really, or truly, felt for another person before. Even though we've only known each other for a short time, I think I'm in love with you. There's just something about you that makes me feel safe. For the first time, it's like all my walls fall when we're together, I have this feeling of giving you my all, my care and support, my love. All of it. I want you, Spencer. And, this feeling I have about all of my protection crumbling down, I'm only just a little bit scared of letting it break."

I pulled her in and kissed her. I let my lips do all the talking, telling her how much I loved her, too and now nothing was going to break her down. We pulled away and she gave me a look of confusion and happiness, as if she was scared to let the happiness show through.

"I feel the same way. Exactly, the same way," I said, "I'm in love with you, too, and it's all new to me also. You're like a beautifully written poem, y/n. I could listen to you day and night and never get tired of it. You have a beautiful mind that I want to explore each and every day. I never want to let you go. Will you stay...with me?"

This time she pulled me in after a moment of pause. Our lips crashed like fireworks, yet moved together in perfect tempo. Without breaking, she moved on top of me slowly. I let my hands wonder all over her body as she cupped my face. We were passionate. We were needy. We were in love. Everything was perfect, and everything felt right.

—

Y/n's POV~

You two had left pretty early in the morning for your adventure back to D.C. Somehow, both of you couldn't sleep at all, even though you were pretty well gone to the point of passing out, so you decided you’ll leave at 5am so then hopefully you’d get back in the afternoon. The whole ride, Spencer held your hand, no matter who was driving. I'm in love. You couldn't wrap your brain around it, but for the first time, it felt like your heart knew better than your head. Nothing about this felt wrong. You had found the one that you had been looking for my whole life. Nothing was going to pull you away from him, and you were not going to allow that in the slightest.

On your way back, Rossi called about meeting up tonight at the bar for drinks, which kind of ruined your plans to stay in and cuddle, but you both figured it'd be nice to see them again. You told him we'd be there and hung up. The rest of the ride was just you listening to Spencer ramble about books he's read in last month. You forgot this man can finish books in half an hour, so the fact that he read more books in a month than the average person was astonishing. He talked about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Oscar Wilde and their beautiful works of literature, and you never drifted off to sleep once, your mind didn't even wonder as his soothing voice was in the background. It's quite beautiful hearing someone talk about something they're passionate about.

When you got back to the city, you went to your place so you can grab my things. You told Seth that you’d be back officially tomorrow, gave goodbye kisses to your children, and went back to Spencer's, where you both freshened up and got ready for night. You had an adorable shower that turned just a bit quite naughty. You talked about how you both wanted to tell the others, and while you said you were fine if you told them now, Spencer's response was very well said. "They're very nosy, so I always thought I'd just keep it secret until I felt ready. But this is different. We're on vacation, so Hotch isn't going to have 'the talk' with us until we're back at work. It feels right, everything feels right with you."

Once you were done getting ready, you headed to the bar, where you were told specifically where to park (Garcia had texted saying that she's friends with the owner and that she'd make sure they were safe. She also mentioned that an uber was going to pick them up at around 1am to go back to her place to pass out. She was, for sure, the mom of the group. More than Jj was at that). Right away, you saw the gang sitting in a corner booth, and once they saw Spencer was holding your hand, they all either were speechless with their jaws sitting on the table or ran up to you and gave hugs and congrats. Morgan had to pull Garcia away from you so you could sit down, which thankfully for her, you ended up sitting right in between her and Spencer, so her arms went right back around you.

"How much has she had already?" You asked laughing.

"Well, she started with jager." said Morgan

"Jager?!" You was shocked. "Did she drink the whole bottle?"

"You'd think," said Rossi from the other side of the table. He sat in between Hotch and Emily, drinking his bourbon before continuing to speak, "she's only had two glasses."

"You guys definitely seem to be where the party's at then, huh?"

"You can never go wrong on us for a party." said Emily.

Spencer ordered you two some beers and a couple of vodka shots each. The music wasn't so loud to where you had to yell over one another, but the sound of classic rock filled the building top to bottom. You clanked your shot glasses together and took the shots before taking a sip of your beer as a chaser.

"Look at you, kiddo," Rossi said to Spencer, "where's the Spencer that would get an ice tea or a shirley temple instead of...a beer and shots?"

"Yeah, you can't tell me that all this of this started happening that night at Garcia's?" asked Jj.

The two of you made eye contact and were silent for a moment before bursting out laughing. "So it DID start at my place," said Garcia, "I knew it! I'm such a good cupid." She danced happily in her spot which made everyone giggle.

"You are magic, baby girl." said Morgan.

"So, how did it happen?" asked Hotch, "Don't worry, I'm not your boss tonight but we will have to discuss this once our vacation is over."

"Right," You said nervously, "Well, we hung out after that night after we woke up at Garcia's, and then the next day we went up to my family cabin in Michigan for the weekend, and...that's where we confessed."

"And the rest is history!" said Spencer, sounding like a little kid as he tried to hide the amount of excitement he had.

"Well, we're happy for the both of you," said Morgan as he got up from the table, "I think that calls for a round of celebratory shots, since pretty boy over here has proven in the past week that he can handle them."

When he came back with the shots, you all grabbed them from the tray that the bartender let him use and raised them high. "To having an uninterrupted vacation, and to y/n and Spencer!"

"Cheers!" You all said in unison before clanking them together and letting it go down the hatch. As the night went on, you drank and drank until you were all pretty drunk, even Rossi and Hotch, who you didn't think the whole team has ever seen them like before. When Garcia found out it was karaoke night, she grabbed a few of you, yourself and Spencer included, up to the stage where you sang-or slurred, really-changes by david bowie. Emily and Jj had their arms around each other to hold each other up, and Morgan and Garcia were hogging the mic from everyone, but the whole bar could still hear every one of you. You noticed Hotch in the crowd standing next to Rossi, his phone recording the moment so we wouldn't forget.

The last thing you remember was getting into the uber and Spencer being very touchy on the ride back, making sure that Emily, who sat in the passenger seat, didn't notice that anything was going on in the back. His fingers were ghosting your thighs as he whispered, 'The things I wish we could do right now' before his lips connected to neck.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #dr. spencer reid #dr.spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff

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archivedatl · 17 years ago

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Old Blogs

Howdy. I’ve noticed some concern over the loss of my old blogs here n’ there so I decided to post all of them in one large, comprehensive blog-a-verse. Hope this brings a smile to a few faces. Our Street Corners Keep Secrets This is me asking for a brick to be thrown through my window, a message attached that reads, "Why can’t you just wake up?" I am not a star, don’t look up to me in hopes of finding something more. That which is out of reach does not promise anyone a goddamn thing. Hope arises in possibility, but possiblity is fragmented and selfish, so don’t think for a second that I am safe ground to walk on. I will sink beneath the feet of a thousand travelling companions, and make ruin of any city’s foundations, because concrete and steel can never tell a soul how it feels. Our street corners keep secrets, and our road signs only suggest, never deciding for us, never knowing if the destination to which they lead, is where we truely belong. Life’s greatest tragedy is not that it will some day end, but that most of us just live to follow directions, and many times we end up totally lost. I am a landmine. Sometimes I break down so hard you can hear it, and when I can stand to come near it with means to repair, the chances of walking out unscathed are slim to none. I know because I’m one; a victim of second-hand breakdowns and bad impressions, made under intoxicated conditions with poorly lit expressions. And I regret not going back, I regret not missing flights, I regret not asking for more and taking chances that I can only hope will not be forgotten. My fingers are crossed.  I-O-U.  Now my telephone’s dead and I can’t stand to hold out like this, but I’m constantly checking myself so as not to be a burden. Anything too heavy eventually gets dropped, no matter the cost. Let me be light as a feather, but valued enough so as to remain in a back pocket, until those jeans need washing and I find my place on a bedside table, to be read aloud on nights when memories and prying needs return to haunt the foundations of this room.  Pick me up, Read me every now and then, I won’t disappoint. *I am* witty and engaging so bless me with attention, because I’m *dying* for attention *without* any means of telling *you*. I��ll talk the talk, you take care of the rest. What up thugs?  I’m alive and well, realizing how eternally grateful I am for everything going on in my life day by day... Its a lot like learning to walk - at least, that’s how I’d like to think of it. We’ve all been there, so I won’t waste your time painting a pretty picture of how it all goes down... I want to talk about other things... First and foremost, I’ve come to understand that as of late there have been a lot of people finding this little piece of my life tucked away on the web; moreso than usual, and for that reason, I’d like to extend my proverbial hand to anyone and everyone who may have something - anything to say to me. Thank you for taking an interest in who I am and what I’m attempting to do with my life. I am opening myself up, as much as possible, to anyone who may be interested. All I ask is that whoever you may be, wherever you may be, understand that I am only human - two hands, ten fingers, and a life... I’ve received a few messages from people, upset that I haven’t been able to respond to their previous comments or private messages, and who now probably think less of me for it. I hope this isn’t the case, but its bound to happen. What I’m saying is that I don’t live my life on the internet... I’m sorry if there’s a message I never got around to responding to... I’m just not that good at keeping up with reality, let alone a virtual one. I will, however, try harder from now on... And understand that even if I don’t respond, I probably have read your message. I don’t just clear my inbox and move on. Thats plain rude. :)  To all my good friends, the ones I should talk to more often, the ones I left back home, the ones I will never stop loving, thank you for still hugging me when I come home... I know I don’t always show it, but I’m forever indebted to you all for everything you’ve ever done for me...  That brings me to my second point. The closest friends you’ll ever have are the ones you’d take a bullet for, but they’re the ones you constantly feel you could put a bullet in as well. ;)  Think about that one.  That’s it for now. I can’t believe I’m up at 5:14am. Touring has made me an insomniac, but I feel fucking great.  Have a good one y’all,  Me Lawyers and Liars I am a liar. I am self absorbed. I am in this for me. I am seeking recognition. I am not concerned with politics. I am attempting to rise to the top. I am never going to forget my intentions. I am allowed to worry about my own life above the lives of others.  -------AFTER ALL---------  I am human. Part Deux: Colors, Sounds and Feather-Downs  Current mood: happy I had a long, goofy conversation several weeks ago with an interesting girl who I haven’t seen since, in a diner I have yet to revisit, but it stirred up some thoughts that I found pretty interesting. Maybe I’m just nuts. Anyhow, the discussion began on a simple basis; I inquired as to what her favorite color might be. She said she didn’t know. I replied, "How can you not know? Its a simple question." -- She paused, looking sort of surprised, as if someone had never pressed her for an answer before, and then replied, "Well... It changes... Today its yellow."  I didn’t know what to say... I didn’t understand.  How can your favorite color just change? What happened to yesterday’s favorite color? If, on a whim, something of such esteem and value can be replaced with another, then on what grounds was it ever of any more value to begin with? When I was little, my favorite color was green. It stayed that way, no matter what I said to be trendy at the time (IE. 8th grade was my "black is such a raw and expressive pigment" phase, but everyone goes through that shit.) As of late, I’ve become more partial to blue - Light blue in particular, but that’s not that important. My point is that something happened that caused me to send green packing, and to fall absolutely head-over-heels for blue. (Stay with me on this...) Now, such a dramatic change in attraction doesn’t just happen - I mean shit, I know we’re only talking about colors here, but this kind of switch-a-roo has only happened ONCE in my entire life. Green ---> Blue. Just like that. Must mean somthing, right? Pablo Picasso went through a "blue period", at which time he was broke and mourning the loss of a dear friend. There’s a similarity there somewhere. Please don’t get me wrong, I am by no means depressed, nor do I have any reason to be, but perhaps color - every, individual hue, represents to each of us a state of being, and in turn, helps us to deal with whatever it is we may be going through. I’m not talking mood-ring shit here. What I mean is that there are things - simple things - that without our knowing, mean the world to us and when they change, they change for our own good, because whether we like it or not, we are looking out for ourselves. We do it unconsciously - But we do it. We do it to stay happy and to stay alive... And above all else, that’s what matters. On this note, I’d like to attempt to make my point - Don’t throw yourself out on another’s whim. People change, as do intentions and as a result, consequences. Live for yourself - love those around you, but realize that they’ve got their own agendas. People will screw you - You will screw people... Green ---> Blue. Get it? I’m not sure I do... Always consider that your life will venture in new directions, but be aware that other’s will do the same, and in accordance, understand that to be happy, people must exist in their own light, cast in and of themselves, not by the light of their peers. Conflict will arise because of this. Conflict is to be expected; conflict is a part of life. Find ways to work through conflict, even if it means picking a new favorite color...   I hope this makes a little sense.   I’m tired and rambling, and perhaps just a misguided fool, but I think there’s something in this - something that I am learning and accepting as my fingers punch these keys to an inviting, hypnotic rhythm. I feel like they’re leading me somewhere, and I’ve decided to follow.  ____I’m going to bed. Take from this what you will.  Love,  Alexander William Gaskarth  *I feel fine* The first of many, I hope.  Current mood: happy So I’ve decided to spill it; the beans, the juice, my guts... Whatever you want to call it, consider it spilled. Up to this point, I feel like I’ve done an excellent job of keeping just about everything true about myself, to myself... and for good reason - what people don’t know, people can’t use against you. I guess that’s my first confession. I fucking despise the way people operate. The way people go out of their way to find things out, only to throw them senselessly (BLINDLY) into conversation later. I don’t know if its intentional, (I guess that sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t,) but frankly, it gets to me. Its the same kind of prying aggravation I feel when someone starts moving shit around in my car, or on my computer table. Stop putting hills in my rugs! Please. Call me OCD but if I put something somewhere, chances are, I wanted it there and it should remain that way. Its the same for anyone else. Let one’s own business remain that way. Anyway. I’ve fallen into a depression lately - not emotionally per say, but I feel like my ability to open up to people has peaked over the past two years. I used to be so ready to say anything, without caring how it affected me, but recently I’ve become so protective of myself, not because I’m afraid of getting hurt by others, but because I might make myself look bad. It’s disgusting. I never used to be so self-absorbed. Its like in every situation, I’m wearing a mask... Not just one mask, in fact, but many masks; Masks to hide masks between people - to hide certain sides of myself from those who disapprove where others don’t. I try so hard to win the approval of everyone. Why? Fucked if I know. I just love being the center of attention I guess. And all this time I thought myself to be humble. No sir. But then, who really is humble? Everyone wants to be loved, right? So am I wrong in looking out for my own well being? Who knows? It makes me sick to my stomach, regardless. I’ve unknowingly stumbled across so many insecurities lately that I feel like a different person at times. It’s like I’ve been born all over again, to a world where I have to carry myself differently. I’m still opinionated, I’m still eagerly in search of answers, but my motives have changed. I do it for myself now; for the praise and admiration I earn as a result of my actions, not for the simple pleasure found in just "doing it". Maybe its all just part of growing up, as they say. Maturing... You know? But does it continue to change? Will I stop acting like such an asshole? Who knows. It worries me. I don’t want to be like this, but its who I’ve become... What’s worse is that I don’t know who or what to blame for the transformation. That would be too easy, right? I digress. I’ve got a lot of things on my plate. My dreams are coming true right before my very eyes - I have a band - We’re going somewhere - This time next year I hope I’m far, far away from this place. I want to see Japan. I’ve wanted to see Japan for a while now; call it a calling. Haha. I don’t know what I want when I get there - I don’t even like the hustle of big cities for too long. Gives me a headache. But there’s something about it. I’ll see it soon enough. The repetition of every day life kills. It ruins the flow of my creative juices. No joke. On days that I sleep in, I go to bed feeling exhausted, and yet, I never sleep on the weekends, when I should want rest. I don’t. It would be a waste of freedom. Why spend time on parole in seclusion, you know? I’m only tired on weekdays - only when I know I have to drag myself out of my fucking room to take a shower and go to school, and then to work. Maybe I’m not tired. Maybe it’s just a natural defense against running myself into the ground with routine. I feel pale, and sick, and run down... For no reason. I eat right. I see the light of day. I breathe fresh air all the time. I love the outdoors. Shit. I love my life. But between Monday and Thursday I feel so transient... My head isn’t in the clouds - My feet aren’t on the ground. Where am I? I don’t know, but frankly, it sucks. I have some good friends. We get hammered sometimes and forget about everything. The occasional dramatic scene is worth it. People naturally don’t get along with one another. It’s all a matter of how tolerant people are. I have some tolerant friends. In turn, I think I put up with my share of bullshit. It’s like a cycle of tough loving. But it works. It keeps me sane. In the end I think we really do love each other. Awww. I also like to kiss people. It gets me into trouble sometimes. Whatever. Certain individuals need to stop looking for love in the wrong places. --I can’t talk. --I’ve found love in the worst places. --Its not an easy thing to deal with. --Doesn’t change the way I feel about them. --Its ok. --As long as I’m happy. There I go being selfish again. ___I’m done confessing for now. Take from this what you will. Love, Alexander William Gaskarth *I feel better.*

#Alex Gaskarth #2008 #So Wrong It's Right #MySpace #blog #text #ap tour

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justwritethatdown · 4 years ago

Text

Bechloe Week 2020 – Day3: Drunk Texts

We were bound to be together

An au where Beca didn't get together with Jesse and that allowed her relationship with Chloe to grow.

The way Pitch Perfect 1 should have gone ;)

Set during Beca’s first two years at Barden; everything goes as it should, nothing angsty happens and everyone is happy. Just a sloppy falling-in-love story between two college girls, told through their drunk texts, kind of...

Rating: T

Words Count: 2.5K

Thanks to @viharistenno for being my beta

Read here or on AO3

She took my arm, I don’t know how it happened

After Hood Night, Beca was lying on her bed; the weird buzzing in her brain caused by alcohol made it hard for her to fall asleep. She wasn’t used to drinking and partying with strangers until late night, but she had to admit it wasn’t the worst thing she’d done. That Jesse seemed nice after all, a little pushy maybe, but Beca knew she needed a push sometimes, maybe she should give him a chance-

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand

CHLOE BEALE: Im so glad that I met you xx

BECA: Yeah, you kinda mentioned that…

Beca bit her bottom lip and a bright smile formed on her face. There was something about Chloe, that didn’t make Beca want to push her away. On the contrary, it was rather a pull, that made Beca want to get closer to her.

She placed the phone on her stomach, letting out a heavy sigh, smile still present on her lips. Beca couldn’t believe she actually auditioned for an acapella singing group, just because a crazy – naked – girl told her to, after crushing her shower and forcing her to sing with her; it was a situation that normally would have made her run for the hills and yet, she went to the audition – and she got in – and to the following party. Beca didn’t even know how that happened, Chloe had dragged her into this whole new world, and she was kinda okay with that.

It confused Beca; for the first time her instinct didn’t tell her to push this person away, it told her to get to know her better, to become her friend, but most of all Beca wanted Chloe to like her, she wanted to impress her. She checked her phone to see if Chloe had texted her anything else, but there were no new messages, so she let out another sigh – a disappointed one this time – and put the phone away.

Maybe Chloe was still with shower guy, they seemed to be pretty close at the party. Her stomach twisted and Beca huffed again; the way Chloe had grabbed her arms and how close she got to her while talking, gave her some vibes, for a moment she’d thought that the redhead was flirting with her – a thought she wasn’t completely opposed to – but then she saw her with that guy while she was busy talking to Jesse, and kicked herself for being so delusional, she was well aware they were having sex in the sowers, they were obviously together.

Beca shook her head and rolled her eyes to herself, turning to her side to try to sleep.

I felt it in my chest as she looked at me

CHLOE: Admit you had fun tonight! :P

Beca was a bit more tipsy than usual – okay, let’s say she was drunk – but it wasn’t her fault; Amy arrived there with the clear internet of getting the brunette drunk that night. She dumbly smiled at her phone and almost gave in, but then she remembered their bet.

“I don’t know why I let you drag me to this stupid party” she spat out when they arrived at the ΣΒΘ frat house.

“Come on, I bet you’re going to have fun” cheered Chloe making Beca roll her eyes.

“I doubt it” stated the brunette.

“We’re here bitches!” screamed Amy going straight for the alcohol table, followed by Stacie.

When her head started to spin, Beca realized that maybe she’d let Amy fix her one drink too much, but she didn’t care, not when Chloe was leaning in so close to whisper things in her ear – shout actually, to be heard over the loud music – and had one arm wrapped around Beca’s shoulders; the weight of Chloe on her felt amazing and the way Chloe looked at her made her heart do funny things in her chest.

Beca definitely blamed it on the alcohol, but deep inside she knew it was the same feeling she had the first time they met at the activities fair; that smile Chloe gave her and those blue eyes, so deep that Beca felt like she was drowning in them, knocked all the air out of her lungs and she felt her heart racing.

Even if she did run away that time, Beca just couldn’t stop thinking about her, until that girl jumped in her shower, making Beca incredibly frustrated and embarrassed. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help but looking – more than once – at the girl’s naked body and her mind wandered without her permission. Chloe was undeniably beautiful, and her confidence made her even hotter.

Beca should have known then that she was gone, but – always oblivious to her own feelings – it took her several weeks of parties and rehearsals to know that she had, in fact, fallen head over hills for the redhead.

Suddenly Beca felt Chloe stepping away from her and saw the girl launching herself into Tom’s arms. The brunette found herself downing the remains of her drink and accepting a new one from Amy. The rest of the night is still a blur, she vaguely remembered Jesse helping her through her dorm room door and saying good night, at which she believed she grunted before the guy closed the door behind him.

Beca frowned at the memory and looked back at her phone; there was a new message on the screen

CHLOE: you disappeared tho. Stacie said you left w Jesse :(

BEC: yoy wr wit Tom

CHLOE: I told you I was going to say hi and when I came back you were gone >.<

BEC: are u tofether?

CHLOE: No, I’m alone

BEC: no I mwan ar you datingm

BEC: ?

Chloe started typing and deleting and Beca started to freak out; she’d known this girl for less than a year, she saw her with Tom from day one, she had no right whatsoever to be upset about them dating, even if Chloe had been sending her mixed signals from the start and was annoyingly touchy and loving and not-so-unintentionally made Beca’s head spin more than alcohol did

CHLOE: No, he’s not my boyfriend. We used to be fwb but I ended it a while ago because I started to like someone… :)<3

Just keep your eyes on me

The following day Beca felt like shit; her head hurt, and she felt nauseous, that’s why she was immensely grateful to Chloe for dragging her to that stupid party the night before their special rehearsal’s session.

“Remind me to kill you when this is over” she lamented when Chloe greeted her with her usual bright smile – the girl clearly didn’t drink as much as Beca did the night before – and a quick hug

“Can’t wait” winked the redhead, making Beca’s blood boil in her veins.

Chloe really looked amazing that morning and was clearly making an effort to be noticed by the brunette; she managed to make even that idiotic hostess choreography look beautiful. It wasn’t just the dancing, Beca found every movement Chloe made incredibly sexy, maybe because of that half confession she had made the night before, or maybe because Beca knew Chloe was doing it on purpose; she knew it because Chloe basically never dropped her eye contact with Beca, almost like she was trying to cast a spell on her, and maybe she did.

“You’re on a mission today huh?” Beca hushed to her during a break

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” answered Chloe wearing a shit eating grin

“Well, better for me then, I’m enjoying the show” she shot back without thinking too much about it and regretting it right away, but the fire it lit in Chloe’s eyes told her she’d said just the right thing.

“What’s with all this eye fucking?” suddenly spat out Amy, making the room giggle. Except for Beca who became bright red, and Aubrey who cleared her throat glaring at Chloe, who innocently smiled biting her lip.

“Did you finally hook up or something?” asked Stacie in amusement

“Can we focus on the damn choreography?” asked Aubrey grinding her teeth.

Deep in her eyes, I think I see the future

Beca’s plan was simple: to go to college for one year, convince her dad that she tried and have him send her to Los Angeles the following year to finally start working towards her dream of producing music. However, something along the way went incredibly wrong, or rather incredibly right, and now all she wanted was to stay there with those nerds who somehow became her family.

The look on Chloe’s face when they won the finals made Beca realize that her future wasn’t in LA, her future was right there with those girls, with Chloe. In that moment Beca felt like she belonged there; she saw her next few years at Barden, with the Bellas, and in the hug they shared, Beca felt that Chloe would be part of her life forever.

The girls celebrated in the Bellas’ sorority house and they all, even Aubrey, got incredibly wasted. Most of the girls had already moved there from their dorms and wouldn’t have to go anywhere after their party.

During the night Chloe made sure to let Beca know, more than once, how sad she was that the brunette had decided to really leave for Los Angeles in the end, instead of moving in with her, and she never left her side the whole night. They drank together and laughed and danced, and they almost kissed, but Chloe pulled away last minute confusing Beca. When Beca asked her why, Chloe mumbled with watery eyes “you’re leaving, what’s the point?”, but immediately cleared her throat and dragged Beca to dance with the others. In her inebriated state, the music and Chloe’s body moving rhythmically against hers, were enough to distract Beca from that statement. Only later, walking back to her dorm, it carved its way back into her mind.

BEC ♡: I not gng to LA

CHLO: ???

BEC ♡: im stang heee

Chloe’s reply was a string of emojis Beca was too drunk to interpret followed by

CHLO: yoy styng w the bellassssss

BEC ♡: im staying fr you

CHLO: were gnna be cocaptnsss!!!

This woman is my destiny

Beca’s second year at Barden started out completely differently from her first one; she was living in a sorority house along with eight other girls and was co-captain of the acapella group she led to victory the year before.

Her relationship with Chloe evolved in a strange way; they acted like a married couple now, but they never crossed the line, both too scared of ruining what they had. With Aubrey gone, the Bellas were their responsibility and Beca knew that was what mattered the most to Chloe, so she chose to focus on their acapella group. For Chloe, not because she was scared of fucking things up, obviously.

Their mutual pinning was clear to all their friends; some of them – Amy – teased them about it, while others desperately tried to help them figure it out.

One night, during one of their let’s-get-drunk-because-why-not nights, they were playing truth or dare

“Beca” started Stacie “truth or dare?” she asked with a wicked smile, making Beca sweat

“Truth…” tentatively answered the brunette

“Do you have more than platonic feelings for anyone in this room?” asked Stacie raising an eyebrow. Chloe held her breath at that and Beca was the only one to miss it, too occupied freaking out

“Dare” blurted out Beca “dare, I meant dare!” Beca’s heart started beating dangerously fast, hoping that Stacie would have let her change her reply, but the girl’s eyes twinkled and Beca knew she’d fallen right into her trap.

“I dare you… to kiss the girl you have the biggest toner in the world for and release us all from this ridiculous sexual tension you two generate” commanded the tall girl rolling her eyes.

Beca felt all the air leave her lungs. Everything was silent around her and all she could hear was the uneven beating of her heart. She swallowed hard looking at Chloe to see what her reaction had been and the girl’s hesitant smile calmed Beca a little.

Beca wasn’t one to back down from a challenge and the alcohol in her system only made her more competitive, but most of all, there was nothing in the world she wanted more than to finally kiss Chloe, so she crossed the circle they were sitting in to reach the redhead on the other side of it. Chloe was biting her bottom lip in anticipation and Beca could see in her eyes that the girl wanted to kiss her just as much as she did.

Beca gently rested her palm on Chloe’s cheek. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t need words to communicate; their eyes were saying all they needed to say. They expressed how much they both wanted to do this, but only if the other was okay with that, and that it was going to be okay. They completely forgot they weren’t alone.

Beca leaned in and kissed her, Chloe wrapped her arms around Beca’s neck and pulled her closer, letting out a sigh that made Beca’s heart flutter. They stayed there, kneeling in the middle of the living room, kissing slowly and deeply, their lips moved together as if they were dancing. Beca wasn’t sure who deepened the kiss, but as soon as their tongues touched, a million fireworks went off in her brain, covering the sound of their friends whooping and clapping and wolf whistling – Amy – and making her forget her own name.

Beca couldn’t have enough of Chloe’s lips. When the kiss ended and Chloe tried to move away, Beca desperately chased her mouth and started kissing her again, gaining a chuckle from the redhead. The two girls were only separated by Amy accidently bathing them in tequila while waving a bottle in the air, shouting that they had to drink to that.

After two – or was it three? – Bhloe drinks, as Amy had named them, Beca was still snuggled up next to Chloe. They shared some quick kisses during the rest of the night and when they decided to go wrap it up, Beca really wasn’t ready to sleep. All she wanted to do was kiss Chloe all night long and the morning after, and for the rest of her life. When Chloe pulled her in for another kiss, she was happy to welcome Chloe’s tongue in her mouth again

“Good night, baby” whispered Chloe against her lips before leaving.

Beca was lying awake in her bed; she could still feel the ghost of Chloe’s lips lingering on hers. She took her phone and started typing.

BEC ♡: I lied at trth o dre I dont have a tner for you

CHLO: Bec…

*CHLO IS TYPING*

BEC ♡: Im crazy abt yoy! youre my destiny

BEC ♡: you’re

CHLO: you jst gve me a heartattack yoi asshole1

BEC ♡: srry xD

CHLO: wnna cme here to sleep w me?

BEC ♡: we r drnk…

CHLO: I jut wanna slp

BEC ♡: Any wll tease th shit out of us

CHLO: I don’t care

CHLO: I miss u

Beca didn’t really use much her bed in the Bellas’ house.

#bechloe #bechloeweek #Bechloe week 2020 #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect

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literaphobe · 4 years ago

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Im so sorry...is your sister a minor

yeah she’s 17. i really don’t blame her it just sucks. anyway i think i needed to work through this but its also way too long so

lol like that was supposed to be my birthday gift but it has now become a romantic getaway for a man and his gf (who is 18 years younger than him) and my sister and one of her friends. at like. one of the most expensive hotels in the country. the same man who guilted me into giving private tutoring to 8 students at a time while i was a student because he apparently is super poor and has no money and no job. (i started tutoring for extra money and to just. have a job. because he has also given me shit about that before too. if i don’t have a job i’m like a useless baby child who he can never trust to be responsible for her own life. turns out that was just a load of bullshit to trap me. and yeah i was teaching 8-9 students at some point and i think i was like telling him hey i don’t know if this is a good idea. its a little crazy. and he was like no u should keep doing it. its money u should just earn it. we aren’t doing great financially and at some point we might need ur help paying for ur sister’s tutoring classes. and so i did and it hurt me SO much last semester. + covid but also. it was tutoring mostly lmao)

anyway i just. the thought of everything made me cry a lot in the shower lol. like that. quiet cry where u are sobbing uncontrollably but u have to mute it as much as possible so that ur mother who’s washing dishes in the kitchen doesn’t hear it

today we had some ikea furniture delivered. and i was assembling it. and my mom told me “when we were married i was always the one putting together the IKEA furniture. ur dad would always get frustrated and give up” and then in the shower i realized that’s exactly how my dad treats me lmao. i am.... his ikea furniture

so like. i can actually trace the most recent incident of abuse i faced from him back to when. i allowed him to “help” me with my university degree transfer issues. u know. because i couldn’t do the coding degree he pressured me into doing. and wanted to do something else (i could’ve gone to my uni open house w my friends. who ended up entering the arts faculty. and i WANTED to do psychology in the arts faculty too. but my dad and his gf were there. and they just. told me if i did that i would have no future and no job prospects when i graduated. which is SO fucking funny because both of them individually. their grades were super fucking shit and they were never good enough to get into the school that i did. so they had no fucking business telling me what i should or shouldn’t do. but i didn’t know that because they lied to me. my dad lied to me about so many things to scare me into thinking i couldn’t do anything. and at this point in my life. they were still monitoring my internet usage. and there were restrictions set on my phone. mere. months. before i was meant to be a university student. even getting restrictions off my phone was a big fight i had to have. i bought my own laptop with money i made from this f&b job because i knew if i waited for them to get one for me i would be waiting forever. and i was just so fucking scared of them so i got a. ‘practical’ degree. and then slid off my adhd meds because even that felt like part of the trap they kept me in for years)

i decided i wanted to do linguistics and become a linguistics major but my school wasn’t letting me. and it had been a year. so i let him and my mom get involved. which i had SUCH a bad feeling about. an awful awful bad feeling. i was right lmao. i should’ve known his involvement wouldn’t have done shit and would also. set me up for yet another Major Traumatic Incident. which i have spent the entirety of 2020 trying to avoid. do you know how stressful and tiring it feels to just like. every moment around ur own father is u just trying to walk on eggshells praying and hoping that nothing bad will happen. i tried so hard and it fell apart in the end anyway. he couldn’t fix this problem so he took it out on me

my school essentially texted us back saying “we get a shit load of transfer requests every year, even from students from other schools. ur grades from the classes u took aren’t good enough to justify a transfer” and like they were right. i had been off my meds. various things in life had happened. my commute situation wasn’t helping matters either (to and from was 2 hours each) and it has just. not been great. grandad passed away like 2 weeks ago or something at that point. which. may have been an underlying cause for the situation. or maybe he was always going to blow up at me and get violent and crazy. idk

anyway. i guess u could say it is ‘my fault’ for cutting off contact w my father n not speaking to him. but also. he threatened to throw me into a mental institute. and also. violently refused to let me leave the house so he could keep yelling at me. he physically would not let me. i yelled at him to just let me go but he implied that he would actually hurt me if i tried to get past him again. and he said all sorts of shit like he can be crazy too and he can be crazier than me which is something he’s said before. what triggered me to leave was. ok so in the beginning he was giving me the same thing he has yelled at me about over the years. i am super super fucking smart but i waste it all away on purpose and refuse to get my shit together and that’s somehow a personal attack on him. i can’t remember most of it by now. but anyway. i was tearing up and keeping absolutely quiet just waiting for it to be over so i could leave and go to another room. but then he started to. yell at me for crying. its so fucking ironic and weird because in a separate previous incident i was complaining about my school and how much it all was. and i was barely raising my voice but he was like woah woah stop being so emotional!!! as if he doesn’t regularly scream and shout and punch walls or whatever the fuck over the SMALLEST bullshit. anyway. he started to scold me for crying. and then he said ‘if you go out in the future and get a job are you going to cry like this too when ur boss scolds you? or are you acting like this because i’m family and you think its okay?’ as if. i have never had a job. as if i have never had to deal with a boss. bro i swear to fucking god. i am dead to most things now because of him. he can’t do shit. but. in the moment i found this so ridiculous and just SO fucking stupid that i left. i had had enough. i started laughing and i walked out and went to grab my bag so i could go. i didn’t. get very far obviously. and when my dad started threatening me i genuinely thought i was going to die. he was so angry and deranged that i thought he was going to murder me. my heart was going just. so so so fast. even tho i was just standing there. and i told him he was terrifying me (to which he said “GOOD”) and i just NEEDED to get out of this situation and get some space (to which he said “NO” repeatedly). he refused to admit that he would use actual violence to prevent me from leaving the house. he told me he would NEVER let me leave. which was fucking ridiculous. i stay at his house. 2 days out of the fucking week. he literally shoved me backwards so hard when i was trying to leave and he wanted to stop me. he also refused to admit that he used violence or was planning to use violence. i tried to point out this flaw in his logic to him. i said ur going to hurt me. he said no. i said ok then if ur not going to hurt me then let me walk past you and leave the house. he also said no again. and then our cousins rang the door at some point. so then he started to come to his senses. he was like. ‘the reason i don’t want to let you leave is because i’m afraid you’ll hurt yourself.’ which was so fucking stupid. i have NEVER threatened to hurt myself in front of him. i have never shared ANY thoughts of self harm in front of him. he’s the one who would get into massive fights w his dad and threaten to jump out of the window in anger (and i don’t even mean when he was younger. he would fight with his 93 year old dad. fucking stupid bitch). i made this clear to him that i was never ever planning on hurting myself. and then he said fine and let me leave. meaning i had to answer the door to my cousins in tears while he got to walk back to his room and lock himself in

he also. at some point during this argument, told me there would be consequences to me leaving. i guess i know those consequences now lmao. and like. i went home to my moms house. my cousins walked me there. i still haven’t told them. idk if my dad told them. my dad texted me to gaslight me. said that when he said he was going to put me in a mental hospital he meant it as a friendly suggestion because of ‘the state i was in’. and that it ‘wasn’t meant as a threat’ and like. oof. healthy suggestions aren’t meant to be yelled. anyway. i might be texting him. just to inform him about developments and to like. i guess set boundaries maybe. idk. i can’t carry on like this. i hate him and am terrified of him but. cutting him out of my life is basically inviting ostracism from his side of the family. and it’s putting so much stress on me. so. lol

#ask

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