#I have just sat here for like 15 minutes trying to think of a decent title that wasn't the wip one of 'little soldier boy' since it doesn't

[nanamissuit]

I am back again.

*rubbing my hands while sending you a sweet sweet ask*

Fem reader that takes Ghost to meet her Family even when they're Hella toxic, always berating her, judging her, making her feel as if she's not good enough.

When they see the behemoth of a man who has her back and won't hesitate to break theirs, they all scatter away with their tails tucked beneath them.

Major satisfaction for both Ghost and his sweet woman.

Please make it angst and have badass boyfriend Ghosty save the day.🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Family Issues - Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort,Angst,Fluff

It was no secret you hated your family. Your sister always tried to hit on every boyfriend you introduced, Your mom was emotionally abusive, and your father? Rarely around.

So when Ghost asked to meet your family you froze up and didn’t know what to say, of course he noticed. He asked why you looked upset and you sat him down on your couch.

“Well listen…My family isn’t uhm, functional and I just don’t think it’ll go the way you're expecting. I have no problem introducing you but you’re not gonna like it.” “Sweetie, trust me I won’t judge you for your family I know how you feel about ‘em.”

You smiled and rubbed your thumb over his hand. “Okay, I’ll call to see what day we can go over.” 

You called around an hour later and sat outside on your porch smoking a cigarette. Your mother picked up, “What.” “Hello to you too, listen I have a boyfriend of a couple of years and he wants to meet you guys.” “Whatever, Saturday 5:00 I’ll make dinner.” “Great, love you.” But she hung up on you before she could even hear you say “Love you.” You put out your cigarette and just sighed.

You told Ghost and he marked it on the calendar and the day came before you even knew it. You sighed as you got ready to go over. And he decided to wear his mask but he did dress decently to go over. He waited for you by the front door as he saw you putting on some shoes. He smiled and gave you loads of compliments.

The drive was around 15 minutes and when you knocked on the front door your sister opened it and practically shoved you inside just to get closer to Ghost.

“Hey I’m Samantha, you can call me Sam-” “Ghost. I think I’ll just call you Samantha.” She rolled her eyes and he just walked in and made sure you were okay. He never introduced himself as Ghost unless he wanted to intimidate or he didn’t like the person, you assumed he didn’t like your sister.

You lead him over to the dining room table and sat down next to him

You both waited for your mother to come sit with you guys before you ate and she came in around 2 minutes later with your father and your sister.

“Hm, You must be the unfortunate one. I’m her Mother just call me Teressa though and this is her Father, Michael.” He shook both of their hands. Now mind you they didn’t get a good look at how tall he was or how buff he was. Hell they haven’t seen his face.

“So what unfortunate events lead you to meet my shithole of a daughter?” Your mom asked nonchalantly and you took a deep breath and began to get some food.

“Not unfortunate at all, In fact she’s a catch. Met her at a bookstore.” Your sister scoffed and looked at Ghost and tried to rub up on him and he glared at her.

“A catch? She’s a lazy pile of shit. Nothing special about this one.” Your father spoke up and then you just stood up to excuse yourself to the porch outside. And your sister was still trying to hit on Ghost but he was just not having it.

“You’re all fucking pieces of shit, Samantha has been trying to seduce me since I got here and she’s fucking hideous! You’re a mother, act like it, or don’t even bother trying to reach out at all. And you..How could you talk about your own DAUGHTER like that? You’re a horrible excuse for a father.”

Samantha ran off to her room teary eyed and it seemed like your father stood up to intimidate Ghost but he was 5'9 and Ghost is 6'4 and he stood up after your father. He immediately sat down and just kicked him out as your own mother started to cry as well.

Ghost walked out and found you giggling because you heard him sticking up for you and he took you to the car and drove you both to an ice cream place to calm down after the events that took place.

You were so grateful for him, and he couldn’t live without you. So it’s a win-win situation. You love him and he loves you…Just not your family.

I LOVED MAKING THIS AHHH!! Your requests never fail to impress me:)!

[thecryptidzenith]

I wish you would write a fic where... Kalina manages to deflect Pok and keep him alive as a tool instead of having him killed

The way this premise is worded puts Kalina in the position of power, but I love it when Pok's a cheeky bastard so...

~

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I think you're getting stood up, hon."

Pok hummed, non-committal, as the waitress refilled his water for the third time, "No, I got here early. Earlier than I should have, probably."

Their meeting was meant to be at 5:15, a reasonable enough time for dinner on a weeknight, but definitely early. Early enough that Pok would have enough time to catch the train to Elmville and see Riz before he went to sleep for the night. Or more accurately, before he went to bed for the night. Sklonda had told him about their son's attempts to stay up as late as possible, just in case tonight was when Daddy came home, just in case he'd come walking through the door in the next minute or hour, and how could he sleep knowing that?

She'd said it wryly, like it was a joke, but he was well-aware of the admonishment in it. Riz wouldn't feel the need to become an insomniac if he was home more. If every second with Daddy wasn't precious enough to be worth losing hours of sleep over.

But that wasn't why Kalina wanted this meeting early. She wanted as few witnesses as possible, he knew that. And it worked for him, so he acquiesced. The interplay of compromises and negotiations was second nature to him at this point. He refused to have this conversation in private, and she didn't want to go somewhere busy. He arrived ten minutes early so she would see him waiting on her, and eight minutes after their agreed upon time, he expected she'd be here ten minutes late to signal that she had better things to do.

"She'll be here," he promised the waitress, in a manner that he was sure sounded like he was trying to convince himself of it.

She sighed, "That's what they all say," and walked away.

Pok took a sip of his water and looked around the restaurant--yet another compromise. Time wasn't the only factor in how busy a place was. He recounted the twenty-three patrons clustered around lacquered wood tables and squished into sticky red booths. Servers with branded aprons over their normal clothes came out every once and a while. He'd been occupying himself with trying to draw the exact boundaries of their sections, and he couldn't tell where along the wall of booths one ended and another began. Maybe the edge of one of the photos on the wall served as the border, but none of them seemed to line up cleanly with the booths.

Nine minutes after she should have been there--either she was relaxed and sloppy tonight or her imprecision disguised deliberate calculation--Kalina walked through the door. Her dress was Solesian, nice, but not overly so. A satiny grey, flowing top with crisscrossing straps. Perfect for a Solesian summer and decently formal, though the black jeans made the outfit more casual. Dying sunlight glinted off her silver arm cuffs, blindingly bright on a usually dark figure. Her eyes seemed to meet Pok's the second she walked through the door. She ignored the employee up front who in turn ignored her as she walked straight up to his table and sat down.

"Pok."

"Kalina."

"It's good to see you."

"Likewise."

A beat.

He hadn't told her why he wanted to meet like this. He hadn't told her why he had wanted to meet at all. But Kalina spoke a second before he did.

"How's the family?"

Standard small talk or an implicit threat? His response was the same either way, "Good. Sklonda just wrapped up a pretty big case, and Riz has been enjoying the summer. Lot of time at the pool, he's a pretty good swimmer."

Kalina smirked, "Good enough to swim across the moat into Fort Quintana?"

Despite himself, he smiled back, "I can't believe you're still bringing that up, it's been... heavens, thirteen years?"

"Fourteen."

"Goodness." It felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago, "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yes," she confirmed cautiously, "it has."

"We've known each other for a long time. And over that time, we've done a lot of stuff together. We've been a good team. I've trusted you with my life more times than I can count, and you've always delivered. At the end of the day, this is business. But it has never been just business. I think--I hope--that we've built up enough of a rapport over the years that this can stay civil. I just want what's best for you, for both of us."

Kalina grinned, disarmingly sarcastic and pithy in face of his sincerity, "Pok Gukgak, are you breaking up with me?"

"'I remember when a river ran through here,'" he quoted, "do you remember saying that?"

"I say a lot of things, Pok, I can't be fucked to remember them all."

"I do. You said that you remembered when a river ran through somewhere, a change that occurs on a geologic time scale. I've known you for seventeen years and you haven't aged a day. You can't interact with certain objects, you never eat, and you travel too quickly."

"It's rude to comment on a lady's age."

"Kalina," he chided, "I already know enough to get you removed from the Third Ring. It's in an encrypted email, scheduled to send some time tomorrow if I don't cancel it. But those files don't actually tell me who you are. Or what you are. As a colleague, as someone I respect, and even as someone I consider a friend, I thought I owed you the opportunity to explain. And as an agent of the Solesian Secret Service, I thought I'd be prudent to give you the opportunity to come over to our side."

If he could convince Kalina accept Solesian amnesty, it'd be a game changer for his position in the Service. He didn't want to blackmail her into it--the email was just insurance that she wouldn't murder him right then and there--but if he could convince her to work for their side...

It'd be enough for a promotion. Or at least a change in departments. He was thirty-eight years old and not getting any younger. It was only a matter of time before he finally got sent on a mission he wouldn't come back from. He'd been in the fucking Service since he was twenty-one. He'd done unspeakable things for them, climbed the ladder with bloody claws, and he'd made it farther than he ever thought he would.

But it still wasn't far enough. He was still one stray shot away from everything crumbling to pieces.

Bringing Kalina over to their side would force his superiors to take him out of field work. It had to, she was a legendary asset. He'd get a promotion and a pay raise, probably becoming a handler, hell, he'd probably be Kalina's handler. He'd have the opportunity to train and advise younger agents and work with already competent ones. He'd have more time at home and more importantly, he wouldn't have to worry every time he left for a mission if this was the last time he'd ever see Sklonda and Riz again.

That was the dream, anyway. He'd settle for not dying today.

"Are you trying to blackmail me into flipping, Gukgak?"

"No, the email is just to make sure you don't kill me right now." So was the restaurant and the twenty-three patrons inside. "I'm not interested in blackmailing you."

"Then what are you interested in?" she asked--demanded, really--finally serious.

"The truth."

She searched his expression.

"I mean it. I'm going to find it eventually, but I'd rather hear it from you."

"You wouldn't find it. I've made sure of it."

He cocked his eyebrow, "And you've never made a mistake?"

Kalina glowered. There was a long pause before either of them said anything else. Pok watched her analyze him, weighing her options and his character. He didn't try to appear as anything other than he was: an honest and concerned friend.

"Have you tried this trick on Riz yet?" she asked, "'Cause I guarantee that kid would fold like a collapsible chair if you tried this on him."

He shrugged, letting her have her flippancy, "Haven't needed to yet."

"Just wait," she said ominously.

Pok hummed and didn't deign that with a response, forcing Kalina to focus on the matter at hand.

"Fuck it," she declared out of the blue, "You want to know what I am?"

"I do."

"Okay."

She told him.

~

There's definitely more here and I might put an extended version of this on AO3 at some point, (if I do that, it'll probably be Pok/Sklonda/Kalina, because. i want to.) but obviously I love this premise. My version is less 'Pok ends up as Kalina's tool' (though she certainly does manipulate him) and more 'in which the Gukgak parents have moralities befitting a cop and a Fantasy CIA agent,' which is a concept I've been playing around with for a while because I Think It's Neat.

[wh0iskyra0]

Mi princesa pt.2

A/N- I would firstly like to say Thank you so much for all the likes on the first part 🥹, Ik for a fact I will be making a part three but here is part two I hope you all enjoy this one as much as you guys liked part one

W/C- 1781

Warnings: Smut, oral (Reader receiving), minor harassment (nothing big)

It’s been five days since the encounter with me and Val and I’ve been feeling a bit needy for her touch, today me and some friends are going to the beach for two weeks, my friend ask me if Val might want to come I shrugged my shoulders and continued look at bathing suits “Well I think you should ask [Name], y’all could probably you know…get together.” She said to me, I thought for a moment “I’ll ask her when I get back home.” I said picking up a bathing suit I liked “That one looks so cute [Name]!” My friend says with a huge smile I also smiled and walked to the cash register.

The cashier finished ringing us up and handed us the receipt, we walked out the store and headed to the car, she dropped me off and I waved her goodbye, I unlocked my door and walked in. I let out a sigh of relief as I stepped inside of my home, I closed the door behind me and locked it and walked to my room. I put my bag down next to my suitcase and laid down on my bed, I looked at my phone and saw a message from Val. We talked for a few minutes.

After that I responded to her last message and I went to take a shower. After my shower and doing my facial care, I went to my room and turned on my tv and went to lay down on my bed. I felt my phone vibrate and it was Val calling me. I answered the phone with a smile “Hi amor, you look beautiful” she said while propping up her phone and walking away, I smiled and let out a laugh “I just got out the shower” I said put my phone down beside me so I could choose what to watch. “Oh also do you want to come to the beach with me and my friends for two weeks?” I said I was still searching for a tv show or movie.

She came back in a T-shirt and some sweats “Sure I have nothing to do anyways, but I just wanted to call you and tell you good night” she said, grabbing the phone and walking to her bed “Unless you wanna fall asleep on the phone” she said with a smirk. “Sure, we haven’t done that in a while and you can come over Saturday and we can start making our way there” I said, after I finally found a tv show to watch I pick up the phone and looked at her for a little bit while she was distracted I took a picture of her, she looked at the phone “Really mi amor” she said with a grin.

[Saturday 11:30 am]

I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled after a few lil touch ups on my hair. I heard a horn. I grabbed my suitcase and I walked to the door and looked around to get a glimpse of my home before I left. I opened the door and locked it before I closed it. I walked to Valeria’s car and I put my suitcase in the back then walked to the passenger seat and got in. “You ready?” She asked me before putting the car in drive I nodded and began to put the address in the GPS and we started driving.

15 minutes later I got a message from my friend asking if we had started making our way yet I replied and told them that we were now 17 minutes into the drive, I put my phone down and looked for something on the radio, Val side eyed me with a smile. After I finally found a decent enough song I sat back and looked out the window, I then felt her hand on my thigh and she squeezed it a little bit. I smiled and continued looking out the window. After an hour of driving we stopped at a gas station, I went into the store and got some snacks for me and Val

I heard a few men talking about me in a very disturbing way, while I was paying for the things one of the guys came up to me with a smile he tried talking to but I ignored him and walked out he followed me and kept trying to talk to me. Once I finally made it to the car I looked at Val. She looked at me then she looked behind me and saw the man “Ay, leave her alone” she said to the men, I got in the car and watched the scene in front of me “What she your girl?” He said getting closer “Yeah she is so get the fuck back before I deal with you myself Hijo de puta.” She said to the man flashing her gun.

I watched the way she moved, they way she protected me, the way she called me hers. Once she scared the man off she got back in the car and drove off. “From now on mi amor, I’ll come into the stores with you okay?” She said grabbing my thigh I nodded and she squeezed my thigh a little tighter “I want words mi amor.” She said while still driving “Okay.” I said quietly, I was turned on a little by that altercation and the one happening now.

The sun was starting to set. I saw a message from the group chat that they were going to turn in for the night and continue tomorrow. “The girls are turning in for the night. Do you want to go to the hotel that’s coming up?” I asked her, she said yea and continued driving. Once we made it to the hotel we checked in and headed to our room, I laid on my belly and let out a sigh of relief. And closed my eyes slightly I felt Valeria behind me, I looked behind me and smiled. I got on my back and looked at her.

She looked at me with a smirk, she then bent down and kissed my neck and slowly started reaching up my shirt “No bra mi amor?” She said sitting up and sitting on the bed “It was going to be a long drive that was going to be uncomfortable.” I said with a smile, I sat on her lap and began kissing her. She smiled into the kiss. I felt her hands roam my body starting from my ass moving to my waist and she stopped the heim of my shirt. She broke the kiss and looked up at me “Can I?” She said before she kissed my neck.

“Yeah, you can take it off.” I said lifting my arms up, she began taking off my shirt and began kissing in between my boobs. Once my shirt was off she threw it somewhere in the room, she took my bra off and threw it somewhere in the room as well.

“You're very eager, ur not going to stop this time right?” I said looking at her, she smiled and kissed my neck “I promise I won’t stop this time.” she said while flipping us to where I was on my back and she was on top, I let out a couple of whimpers as she kissed my neck and began moving lower “We met again lovelies.” She says before she kissed my boob, she then licked my nipple and the sucked on it a bit, I moaned at the feeling then I put my hand in her hair.

She looked at me with a smile and let my nipple out of her mouth with popping sound, she continued to do the same thing to my other nipple “Val…ur teasing me.” I said with a whiny tone “I’m not teasing amor, I just want to explore your body” she says while moving down my body “you’re so beautiful.” she said as she moved lower “My beautiful girl, with the most gorgeous body.” She said while pulling down my pants and my underwear I moaned at her words, I could feel her smile on my thigh.

Once my pants and underwear were off she threw them off to the side “Look at that.” She said with a moan, I tried to close my legs but she help my legs open “Don’t try to hide from me hermosa, please?” She said looking up at me “okay.” I said relaxing, once she saw that I was relaxed she kissed my clit I jumped at the sudden action she did, she looked up at me “I’m fine.” I said putting my hand in her hair and stroking it lightly she smiled and continued her actions. She then licked a strip from my hole to my clit she did a few quick licks on my clit and then she suckled on my clit I moaned and gripped her hair tighter then then before.

She groaned and stuck her tongue inside my hole and started to tounge fuck me “Oh fuck- please don’t stop Val!” I said sitting up a bit, she looked up at me and smiled and then sucked on my clit a little harder then she did last time, she then stopped and took off her clothes in hurry. After she got her clothes off she put my legs on her shoulders and continued her previous actions “You close sweetheart?” She said to me with a smile before she started tounge fucking me and licking my clit I nodded, she then put her fingers inside of me and finger fucked me as she licked and sucked my clit faster.

She felt my walls contracted around her fingers she then smiled up at me “I want your eyes on me when you cum amor.” She said to me. As I finished she continued to work me through my orgasm, I began to calm down as she got up and laid down beside me “did it feel good amor?” She said pulling me closer, though I was still on a high I still responded “I literally just came on your fingers and tounge moaning like crazy, and you asking me if it was good…” I said jokingly, she laughed and kissed my forehead, I kissed her neck and began sucking on the kiss. I left a decent sized hickey on her neck. “Marking me as yours princesa?” She said looking down at me, I smiled and nodded I began to Slowy drift off to sleep she smiled “You wanna be my girlfriend, princesa?” She said to me “If like that.” I said sleepily.

A/N - There will be a part three and I think that might be the end of this little series, but if you guys have any requests or suggestions I’d be happy to do them and some other things if you guys have like any tips on how I could improve my writing I’d love to here it form you guys 🫶🏾 I hope you enjoyed this, this was my first time writing a lesbian type smut I personally think I did good but again if you have advice you can reach out 🫶🏾

[chippedshake]

My first piece as part of the The Outsiders Bingo :)

Prompt: Ponyboy & Steve frienship

(also on AO3)

Steve, 

It took him years. Years of trying and on-and-off and relapses and support groups, of Soda’s pleading looks and Darry’s pointed throat-clearing, of girlfriends wrinkling their noses at his breath. But finally, after years and years, it was finally worth it because he managed to quit and was three months clean on his thirty-fifth birthday.  

The final push he needed turned out to be a shaky-voiced phone call from Soda, calling him from a hospital waiting room because they found something in Steve’s lungs and he was scared and didn’t know who to call or what to do and please, Pony, I don’t know and his voice was breaking because I don’t know what I’ll do without him.  

Steve, who always used to buy Pony something when he hung around the DX. Steve, the only one who managed to find a way to make coffee Pony didn’t find completely disgusting. Steve, who held Pony’s hand when they sat at Soda’s bedside after he was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time during a riot. 

Steve, who had started hacking instead of coughing the last couple months. 

It was supposed to take twenty minutes to get from Ponyboy’s apartment to the hospital, but somehow he made it in ten. 

It didn’t make a difference, of course, because why would it? Steve still had lung cancer and it was still bad and Ponyboy was still going to have to find a way to go on afterwards. They still left with Steve’s arms wrapped around both their shoulders and there were still tears rolling down Soda’s cheeks, all of them still silent.  

… 

Ponyboy started drinking coffee once he entered college because all his classmates were drinking it and he already stood out enough as it was. 

The only problem was that he found it absolutely disgusting.

Steve’s reaction was just an ominous “wait here” and a twisted grin. He disappeared, leaving Soda and Pony to trade a curious look – “Just let him do his thing,” Soda said – and came back some ten minutes later with a cup of coffee in his hands.   

It was actually half decent, much to Ponyboy’s surprise. 

When Ponyboy asked what he’d done to make something so disgusting actually tolerable, Steve just shrugged and smiled in his reluctant, half-smile way.

“A true magician never reveals his secrets.”

If he revealed his secrets a year later, well that was something that could stay between Pony and him. 

Was it stupid that the first thing that came to Ponyboy’s mind when he imagined life without Steve was that coffee would go back to being disgusting? That the parts of life Steve had managed to polish off until they shone would go back to being obscure and far-off, unappreciable? 

That rather than think about fundamental rites of passage Steve wouldn’t get to go through, Ponyboy thought about family dinners with an empty seat and turning to share a smile but coming back empty? About sarcastic comments that toed the line between funny and too-far, about “secret recipes” that consisted in emptying a bag of sugar? 

Maybe he should’ve been thinking about how Steve would never legally get married to the love of his life (and neither would Soda, for that matter). Maybe he should’ve been thinking about retirement and children and travelling and radical life changes. 

But all he could think about was coffee. 

And now, years after Steve’s finally left, Ponyboy can feel his absence most strongly in the morning routine they used to share. In how, no matter how faithfully he follows Steve’s instructions, he can’t match the easy grace he moved around with or the fake-innocent shrug after being asked about what the secret ingredient was.

…

For a while after that phone call and the tragedy that came after, Ponyboy refuses to fix anything. He avoids mechanics like the plague and his watch reads 3:15 for five weeks. Because Steve was always the handyman in their group; no matter what you broke, you showed up on Steve and Soda’s doorstep with a sad look on your face and Steve would fix it. 

Learning how to fix something, no matter how stupid, means accepting Steve isn’t around to do it anymore. 

The first serious thing to break is Pony’s bike. Some things had broken before – the q on his typewriter got jammed, his door started to creak – but none of it was major. None of it had any real impact on his life. 

And then, as he’s riding his bike to work, it stops working. He pedals and pedals and pedals and yet the wheels won’t turn. 

I’ll bring it over to Steve’s later, he thinks, he’ll know wh–

A woman swears at him as she bumps into his back, but he can’t make his legs start working again. 

He’s gone and he’s not coming back. 

…

He takes the train to work for a couple months. Bringing the bike to a shop is too final. Closing the door to a room he isn’t ready to leave. Undressing a wound that hasn’t stopped bleeding. 

When he does bring himself to ask a mechanic what to do, it’s the first time he ever asks a professional for help on a machine. Steve had always been around before. 

The bike mechanic raises an eyebrow when Ponyboy tells him the issue. 

“You’re here for a chain-drop?”

Ponyboy doesn’t know what a chain-drop is, but the other man probably knows more about bikes than he does. “I guess so. I’m not sure; my br– my friend always used to take care of this sort of thing, I never really learned much about them.”

Five minutes later, Ponyboy rides out of the bike shop on a good-as-new bike. Chain newly greased up, tires filled up because apparently they were slightly deflated, he should be happy. It was cheap too, since everything he needed was easy. 

Steve would’ve taken longer, probably, so by all means Pony should be grateful. He should be happy. 

Because the mechanic did a better job than Steve would’ve, right?

Only they didn’t warm Pony’s hands with the curl of their lip or remind Ponyboy of when he learnt to drive. They didn’t surprise him with how nimble callused fingers could be. They didn’t call him an idiot – which had become a term of endearment at some point – or try to teach him how to fix something because “you can do it yourself, you brat, or start paying”. They didn’t ruffle his hair like he was still fourteen or flick his forehead when he got smart or pinch his elbow to bring him back to Earth. 

They didn’t give him a quick hug at the door before he left, and then pull away from him suddenly as if allergic to affection and pretend like nothing had happened.  

Ponyboy didn’t leave the bike shop with a warm feeling buried deep in his chest that had nothing to do with Steve’s ice cold hands (he ran cold and Soda ran hot, reason thirty-four on their half-joking-half-not list of why they’re perfect together which Soda has now framed so the teardrops are easier to clean off). 

Maybe what he misses isn’t just not having to go to the bike shop. Maybe it’s something else, something more important, something he didn’t notice until it was gone and he had no one left to thank. 

…

He got the call – Soda’s shaky voice as his world crumbled around him – in the middle of Spanish class. Maybe one day that’ll be funny, since he started going to class for Steve. 

Steve’s mom used to speak Spanish, before she up and left, and no matter how much Steve tried to hate her, he still felt at home in the language; it might’ve been how she swore at his father, but it was also how she sang him to sleep. 

Soda had trouble with just English, but Ponyboy surprised Steve on his twenty-fifth birthday by singing to him in Spanish. Steve never really showed his feelings all that much – half protection and half genuinely not understanding himself most of the time – but the grin after those simple four lines is something that’s still carved into Pony’s memories among the most vivid of his experiences.  

He hasn’t dropped out of Spanish lessons yet. Going is some sort of twisted way of honouring his memory. 

That doesn’t mean it’s not painful, though, to walk in that door. To hear words float through the room and roll off the teacher’s tongue like they used to when Steve was around. To work towards an objective that doesn’t even make sense anymore. To keep on working on his gift to someone who can no longer receive it. 

He gets excited, sometimes, when they cover something in class he’d like to tell Steve. Raquel tells them some Spanish insults when they off on one of their many tangents, and Ponyboy’s immediately setting up an argument in his head where he can use them at Steve. When she shows them an old song she listened to when she was a teenager to improve their oral comprehension, he wants to play it for Steve and ask whether he’s heard it before. 

It never takes more than a second for him to remember that he can’t. 

Someday, learning to trill his ‘r’s the right way won’t remind him of Steve imitating a car motor. Someday, when the conversation turns to partners, Steve calling out “¿mi amor?” to find Soda in their house won’t ring in his ears. Someday, he’ll hear the common expressions they learn in his own voice, not one that’s long since stopped speaking, 

Someday, he’ll walk into the brightly-lit room with boot-verb conjugation posters on the walls and won’t hear the echoes of his dead friend. 

But that day isn’t today. 

…

Hola, Steve: 

Me siento un poco estúpido escribiéndote esta carta, pero se supone que es algo que ayuda a pasar el duelo. Duelo. He aprendido la palabra “duelo” hace poco, en clase de Raquel. Creo que prefería cuando no sabía qué significaba. 

Dejé el cigarrillo unos meses después de que… bueno. Eso. No creía ser capaz de dejarlo, después de tantos intentos fallidos, pero supongo que todo es posible si tienes la motivación suficiente. 

Creía que me haría feliz finalmente dejarlo, pero no siento nada. Estoy “numb”. No sé cómo decir “numb” en español. Será una de esas palabras intraducibles, de sentimientos que parecen existir en sólo un idioma. Emociones inefables. 

El café ya no me sabe bien. No consigo que me guste como cuando lo hacías tú. Sigo sospechando que nunca me dijiste la receta de verdad, porque la copio al pie de la letra y no me sale bien. Quizá le falte algo más intangible, algo tuyo, algo que no puedo reproducir yo. 

No lo sé. 

Me pregunto si tú lo sabes. 

Enfin. 

He arreglado la bicicleta. Bueno, la he llevado a arreglar. Resulta que era algo fácil, y eso está bien, supongo. Aun así algo no me acaba de encajar. Como si faltara algo. 

Parece ser algo recurrente, ¿no? Que me falta algo, algo intangible, tuyo. 

Algo que me transformó la vida, que no ví hasta que paraste de estar. Qué trágico, ¿no? No nos damos cuenta de lo que tenemos hasta que lo perdemos. 

Tendría que ser poeta, yo. 

Las clases de castellano van bien, como ves. Espero que te alegre. 

Te echo de menos, imbécil. 

- Tu acoplado preferido

(Steve, 

I feel a bit stupid writing this letter, but it’s supposed to be useful for getting over grief. Grief. I learnt the word “grief” recently, in Raquel’s class. I think I would rather not know what it means. 

I stopped smoking a couple months after… well. That. I didn’t think I’d be able to quit, after so many failed attempts, but I guess everything is possible if you have enough motivation. 

I thought it’d make me happy to finally quit, but I can’t feel a thing. I’m “numb”. I don’t know how to say “numb” in Spanish. It must be one of those untranslatable words, feelings that only seem to exist in a single language. Ineffable emotions. 

Coffee doesn’t taste good anymore. I can’t make myself a cup I like as much as when you made it. I still suspect you never told me the real recipe, because even when I follow it word by word, it doesn’t come out right. Maybe it’s missing something more intangible, something I can’t reproduce. 

I don’t know. 

I wonder if you know. 

Anyway. 

I fixed the bike. Well, I sent it to be fixed. Turns out it was something easy, and that’s good, I suppose. It still doesn’t feel completely right. Like something’s missing. 

Seems to be a recurring problem. Something missing, something intangible, yours. 

Something that transformed my life, that I didn’t see until you stopped being there. How tragic. We don’t notice what we have until it’s gone.

I should be a poet, with the way I write, shouldn’t I? 

Spanish classes are going well, as you can see. I hope you’re happy. 

I miss you, you idiot. 

- Your favourite tag-along)

[angelsanarchy]

One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series CH 15

"How did you know I was here?" "Snow told me you thought I ghosted you. I couldn't let you think that."

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @siriuslymooned @cc-luvr @crypticsewerslut @icarus-star @desert-springtime @shady-the-simp @izuoyarmin @mayathepsychic1999

MONDAY, 7:00PM

Clyde drove around the desert all morning. He considered going by her place one more time but he already felt stupid for going by the first time. He got desperate enough to call a few of the clubs but they were afraid he was some stalker ex boyfriend so they weren't giving him any details. Snow had asked him throughout the day if he had heard anything to the point he was now getting pissed about feeling like such a pathetic loser and decided to just turn his phone off.

If she didn't want him to find her, he would stop looking. He would rather be angry than heartbroken. Johnny and the guys stopped by and they ate together, making sure not to mention Y/n at all thanks to Johnny threatening them with bodily harm if they even thought about bringing her up. Clyde wasn't going to wallow. He refused to look like that much of a loser so when they decided that tonight they would get drunk and go to the skate park, he was on board.

Clyde knew that Johnny was keeping an eye on him because he kept checking in with him. He said Snow had tried to call but when he told him that he turned his phone off, he could faintly hear Snow yelling on Johnny's phone. He didn't want to engage with her so he pushed off the ground and rode away, cigarette in hanging from his lips. Once he had gotten decently buzzed, he popped the board up to lean against the fence while he scurried into one of the darker spots of the parking lot to take a piss. He tried not to think about how awkward it was going to be when they eventually run into each other at shows. He considered trying to talk the guys into a coastal tour but none of them had money like that.

"Yo! Clyde!" Johnny yelled out but Clyde didn't respond. He kept one hand on his cock and brought the other to the cigarette.

"Hang on man." He heard fast feet approaching assuming Beau was about to push him and make him piss on his shoes. Instead of a shove, he felt a sharp pinch of his ass cheek causing him to yelp.

"JESUS! What the fu-" Clyde was prepared to be pissed but a finger pushed his lips closed. Y/n was standing in front of him, freshly showered, hair down and wearing an outfit he hadn't seen before. He thought for a moment he was imagining it but she chuckled and cleared her throat.

"Can you holster that for a minute?" Y/n teased. Clyde quickly turned away to pocket his dick back into his jeans.

"What are you doing here?" Clyde asked wiping his hands on his pants.

"I've been looking for you." Y/n gave him a playful shove and Clyde nodded trying not to let his hopes grow.

"How did you know I was here?" Clyde started to walk around her and Y/n gripped his arm.

"Snow told me you thought I ghosted you. I couldn't let you think that." Y/n moved into Clyde's space carefully, hands in his pockets trying to remain calm.

"Before I explain myself, do you think maybe I could kiss you? I've been thinking about it since I left and I just-" Clyde allowed her to grip his face and kiss him. He sighed into her lips, unable to contain his excitement.

"I promise I didn't ghost you. Please know I've been trying to get back to you as soon as I could." Y/n pressed making Clyde smile.

"I look forward to hearing the brave story of triumph." Clyde tease gesturing to the hill for some privacy. The guys had taken random girls over there to make out but Y/n sat next to Clyde, body facing him, hand reaching to rest on his knee as he sat next to her.

"I didn't want to tell you why I was leaving so suddenly that other day because it's kind of hard for me to talk about things that are personal. I'm kind of stubborn when it comes to asking for help or letting people know that I actually have struggles." Y/n picked at the strings on Clyde's pants as he listened.

"I got a voicemail from the care center that my dad lives at. He had taken a spill but for some reason when I tried to call, my phone wasn't working. Which is why I used your phone." Clyde nodded his head.

"In the whirlwind of my roommate kicking me out and spending the long weekend with you, I forgot to pay my phone bill. I knew I had forgotten something on Friday but it wasn't until I tried to dial out that I realized they cut my phone off." Y/n's explanation was making Clyde exhausted from how stupid he felt. He dropped his face in his hands.

"I knew I wouldn't be able to call you until today because the payment wouldn't go through until this morning. Once it started working I had like 50 messages from Snow that started out with cute pictures of us and ended with cussing me out for being a bitch to you." Clyde shook his head.

"I'm...such an idiot." Y/n stopped him.

"No you aren't! If I was in your position, I would have thought the same thing which is why I couldn't wait. I didn't just want to call you. I wanted to find you, kiss your stupid cute face and tell you that I have zero plans of disappearing." Y/n put her hand on the back of Clyde's neck trying to get him closer to her.

"I was pouting all day yesterday to the point I actually went to my Dad's because I couldn't handle everyone asking me about you. I never seek comfort in my family." Clyde explained with a laugh.

"I'm so sorry Clyde. I hope I didn't screw everything up." Y/n apologized and Clyde put his hand on top of hers as it rested on his knee.

"You didn't mess anything up. I just...do you have any idea how crazy into you I am?" Clyde asked genuinely making Y/n smile sweetly.

"You made out with me after I puked on you so I could have guess. The feeling is pretty mutual in case you needed to hear it." Clyde swallowed a lump in his throat that he had been holding onto since he had started drowning his sorrows with the boys.

"I know you've had a few drinks and I'm sure you've made plans with the guys but I was kind of hoping that maybe you would come home with me tonight?" Y/n asked like she was nervous about him rejecting her.

"You want me to come to your place? What about your roommate?" Clyde asked confused.

"I told her to go stay with her new girlfriend for the night because I wanted to bring someone special home...she was happy to hear it was cute stoner boy with the creeper van." Y/n laughed. Clyde couldn't help but laugh as well.

"I mean, I kind of drove the guys here-" Clyde gestured over his shoulder and they both looked back at them standing, watching them talk. They tried to act like they weren't sitting there watching from afar but Beau shook his head.

"Hey can you guys speak up? We can't really hear you." Johnny jammed his elbow into Beau's stomach and shook his head.

"Don't mind us, we'll be over here." Johnny made them all turn away and Clyde shook his head.

"If you aren't comfortable with coming back to my place, that's fine-" Clyde cut her off, jumping up from the ground and extending his hand to her. She took it letting him pull her from the grass so they could walk over to the guys, holding hands.

They scrambled trying to look natural but Clyde cleared his throat.

"Hey, I'm going to go with Y/n for the night. Think you could drive the van home?" Clyde tossed the keys to Johnny who looked surprised.

"Y-yeah man. That's...yeah of course." Johnny was pleasantly surprised pocketing the keys. Clyde didn't know what the rest of the night would hold but he didn't care as long as he was with Y/n.

[jhilsara]

I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Chapter 6

It’s late, or early. She isn’t really certain. She is more than sure she's exhausted.

MJ is dragging her feet trying to get home at three in the morning. She’s ready to pass out after the shift she'd had at the pub. It had been a long night and it doesn't help that she's been on edge at work since some creepy man had tried to attack her. Not the highlight of her time working as a bartender.

The police did eventually show up and apprehend the man. Andy and Lars had stayed behind to call him in and also explain what happened. Her lead manager that had been dismissive of MJ's worries was promptly fired after. The owner apparently was not made aware of any of her concerns. Lars also wasn't alone as the bouncer anymore. The owner had hired two security posts for every night now, hoping to dissuade another incident.  

MJ's therapist had more than enough to unpack with her that month. She did feel leaps better after the owner profusely apologized about the lead manager ignoring her worries. That made her feel more supported.

Truly after her long shift, she just wants to go home. She was making plans to herself to put on her big hoodie and crawl into her warm bed after the hottest shower. Maybe even have a little snack. 

She slides her key into the door and is almost drooling at the thought of her soft, plushy bed. She shuffles in and trips over something in the entryway. She looks down and almost screams when she sees Hobie leaning against her wall and bleeding out on her floor. It looks like a crime scene with the lights off.

She throws her bag on the ground and turns on her light. She squats down in front of him checking his pulse making sure he’s alive. She moves to grab his face, holding it gently to make him look at her. His face was dirty, caked in blood and grime. Blood dripping down his forehead and lips. 

“Hey, hey, Hobie. I need you to look at me right now.” She pleads, voice a little pitched.

He barely peels his eyes open, he’s looking at her, but not really. More like he’s looking through her. He grunts in response. His eyes are blurry and she doesn't think he knows where he even is. 

“How long have you been here?” She asks moving his hand to look at the wound he’s been clutching at his side. There’s a decent pool of blood underneath him that looks to have been sitting there for a while.

“Couple a minutes, an hour… I don’t know…” He murmurs, his head lolling off to the side. His eyes start closing again, clearly a losing fight to stay awake. Which she needs him awake because she has no idea if he has a concussion. 

“Hey, nu-uh, you can’t do that right now. I need you to be present with me okay? I don’t know where you’re hurt.” She whispers to him. She holds his head back up, forcing him to look at her. Her brows furrowed in concern.

He nods his head, struggling to keep his eyes open. He's only half listening to her, but he is doing as she asks. 

Since finding out Hobie was Spider-Man he had started a habit of using her home like a 24/7 clinic. The first time he rolled into her home she yelled at him as he tumbled face first into her rug. She had to learn how to clean and dress wounds on the spot. She chastised him all the way through it. He scared the living daylights out of her and on top of that he just sat there laughing like it wasn't a big deal.

This though, this is the worst she’s seen him. There's so much blood and he doesn't look okay at all. His eyes can't focus on her and the distant look in his eyes scares her.

She moves to grab her medical kit, “What happened?” she prods trying to figure out what trouble he got into. 

“Not a big deal,” He tries to shrug but hisses in pain, “just got nicked by the Goblin is all.” He replies slurring his words together.

She bends down next to him and gives a disappointed look. “It is a big deal if you’re bleeding out on my floor.” She tells him with a slight scoff. “Can you take your shirt off or do I need to cut it?” she asks him digging around for her safety scissors.

He gives a soft chuckle but does as he’s told. His top clings to his skin and it's sticky where his bloods dried. He groans in pain as he peels the dried blood off of him with his top. “We should go on a date before I strip for ya.” He teases.

She rolls her eyes, “If you’re coherent enough to joke I should be meaner to you.” She mumbles to herself.

She grabs some alcohol to clean up his injury with from her medical kit. She soaks up a soft hand towel to start cleaning around his wounds.

“Oh come on, ya love it.” He says reaching for her hand so she’ll look up at him.

Her fierce gaze flashes to him and his face falters a bit. She knows she's being harsh, but she's never seen him so beat up. It scares her. Maybe it's because she childishly believes he's invincible. This is a hard moment as she realizes he can get hurt.

“What I would love right now, is for you to shut up so I can clean you up enough for you to take a shower without bleedin’ all over my bathroom.” She states giving him a pointed look. 

He nods his head silently and lets her work.

She cleans the area surrounding his wound, he’s mostly stopped bleeding but it’s a nasty gash. Once it’s clean she can disinfect. She looks closer at his wound and assesses his face too. He’s got a few good scraps along his brow bone and one of his piercings definitely looks like it’s caused some damage. Almost like his eyebrow piercing ripped out.

She quietly continues to work, ignoring Hobie’s grunts and hisses of pain as she cleans his face. Her brow furrowed in concentration. She's afraid if she pauses and looks him in the eye she won't be able to finish. She wants to scream at him to be more careful, but she also just wants to hold him tightly and protect him.

“Anywhere else that was bleedin’?” she asks him softly.

He shakes his head no. She pats his thigh reassuringly. “Go take a shower and let me know when you’re done. I need to bandage you but you need a shower first.” She tells him.

He groans but lets her help him stand up. “Don’t leave a mess in there alright?” she teases him lightly.

“No promises, I’m pretty grimy.” He jokes as he shuts the bathroom door.

She smiles and turns to grab the discarded pieces of his suit. She throws them in her washer and waits to run it when she can grab the rest of it from the bathroom. She moves to set up the couch for him to sleep on.

There’s no way she was letting him go back this late after just dressing his injuries. She grabs her spare sheets and blankets, preparing the couch for him. She throws one of her pillows down for him as well.

She hears the bathroom door creak after a while and turns to see him poking his head out. He already looks a lot better. Relief washes over her and she relaxes a bit. She grabs the medical kit again and goes to wrap him up.

Hobie leans his weight against her bathroom counter. He's just in a towel wrapped lazily around his waist.

She takes a deep breath and adjusts her eyes up. She forgot to give him clothes. Her face is burning but she tries to refocus on bandaging him.

“You look better already.” She comments. She grabs the gauze and bandages to wrap him. She’s so close to him, eye level with his broad chest. She should be used to it by now but her ears are burning. She can feel his eyes on her, and he gives a halfhearted chuckle.

“I feel better that’s for sure.” He murmurs.

She starts to wrap him, eyes trying to keep focused on her task, and not lower to where the towel is barely hanging on his hips. She's definitely not looking over his toned body. She can keep her eyes focused, this is not the time to be checking him out. 

She’s so intentional with every motion. She’s slow and deliberate, making sure she treats his wounds correctly.

She doesn’t notice him move until she feels him brush her hair off her shoulders. The action has her taking a shuddering breath. She looks up at him questioningly.

His own face is in scrunched up in thought. He keeps her hair between his fingers as he looks lost in his own head.

She finishes wrapping his chest before looking back up at him. She gently uses her hand to make him turn to look at her.

“So serious, what’s rattling around in that brain?” She tries to joke, but it falls into more of a genuine question. Her voice quiet.

He looks at her face and meets her question with silence. Contemplating his own response. He stares at her and he’s doing that thing again. He’s looking at her in a way that feels like he’s peeling back layers of her soul, exposing herself to him. She feels barren and unguarded, it scares her.

“Nothin’. Just thinkin’. Brain got all rattle remember?” He says softly tapping his brow. He immediately regrets it, hissing as he hits his own injury.

She gives a soft giggle and lets it slide for the moment. She reaches up, “Let me bandage that, your piercing got pretty fucked right there.” She tells him focusing her attention on that.

He hums in agreement. His hands coming down to grip the counter edge. His grips is so tight it leaves small cracks along her counter. Clearly trying to hide how much he's been hurting tonight. He's a good patient in that he never complains, but sometimes she wished she did. Maybe he just has a high pain tolerance or maybe he just doesn't want her to worry. She'd worry regardless though.

At the end of the day, she'd still rather him crawl into her window every night regardless of his injuries. At least she'd know he was alive. See his chest rise and fall as he breathes.

When she’s done she looks at him, his eyes have just been burning holes into her. She flushes for a moment, she was so lost in thought she didn't notice him staring. Their faces are so close, too close. She swallows hard and takes a step back, “I’ll uh, I’ll grab some spare clothes you’ve left here before… I can just throw your suit in the wash.” She tells him softly, her face burning.

She turns to go into her room, grabbing his clothes and returning to shove them in his hands. He hands over his own dirtied and blood-stained suit to her.

“Thanks Mariana.” He tells her softly pulling her into him with a one armed hugged. For someone so injured, his grip was still strong. 

A chill runs down her spine at him using her name, “It’s no big deal.” She mutters returning the embrace.

She moves away to close the bathroom door and she leans against it. Her head hitting the door as she looks up trying to control her rapidly beating heart.

He can’t keep looking at her with those big brown eyes that crack her open. If he does she might have to acknowledge the fact she’s starting to like him.

She doesn’t think she can handle those far too big feelings right now. So, she shoves them down, under the surface. She can’t think about him like that.

[cutie-melon]

@h-kikomori sure why not

I was but a fresh-assed baby of 19 years old and it was my first time meeting someone off a site. We chatted for a bit that day and she invited me over that evening. She lived in my friend’s apartment complex so I figured if anything got weird I could just walk over there.

(Spoiler alert: It got weird! I did not just walk over!)

When I arrived at her house she wasn’t there. I hit her up and she said “Oh I’m on the way back from dinner. I’ll be home in 3 minutes!” Umm, okay. I’ll stand here in the cold amidst your hoarder-level variety of balcony plants.

15 minutes later a car pulls up. Out comes Jessica (because of course she’s Jessica) from the passenger side. She has clearly been drinking. And from the driver’s side emerges her dinner date. We give each other a glance and then both look to her, nearly losing a heel trying to close the car door while balancing three boxes from Outback.

They mosied up the stairs, a thick fog of awkward rising with them. The date and I were both unsure of the situation or how to act. Not Jessica though. Jessica seemed incredibly sure. Of herself if nothing else. And she was sure to thank her date as she sent them home.

We entered her apartment and greeted her cat. Jessica wasted exactly zero time navigating her way to the nearest wine bottle. “You want a glass?” she inquired. “Sure..” I replied, wishing it was already in my veins. “You want a klonopin too?” “Umm, I think I’m good, thanks.” Now I’m no stranger to drugs, but this seemed like a situation where I should keep at least a couple wits about me. She chased her pill with half a glass of wine and topped up before joining me in the living room.

We sat around and chatted and she was decently fun to hang with. We were pretty different people but had a fair amount of overlap in interests and taste. We finished our wine and she refilled us as I packed a bowl and browsed her DVDs. “Have you seen Across the Universe?” she asked as she sat back down near me. I said “No, I was curious about it, but not interested. Seemed like it might ruin some Beatles songs for me or something.” “Oh my god I loooove that movie. I saw it like 7 times in the theater. I can’t wait to buy it!” she gushed. I didn’t care.

We kept chatting while I put on a movie from her collection. It really just served as background cause we were having a good time. I was well over the awkwardness from earlier, and while I wasn’t romantically interested in her, it was fun to hang with someone new. Until I got to the last drops in my second glass of wine and saw some white powder. Some sludgy with red wine, some kind of chunky and bright as chalk.

I felt a slight panic as my brain tried to configure all possibilites of what was in front of me and all outcomes from all responses until I finally just blurted “Ummmm what the fuck is this??” I made her look at it with me. “Oh, that’s just residue from my dishwasher!” she lied. I pressed her, “It wasn’t there after my first glass..” She doubled down, “I got you a new one when I poured us some more.” “That doesn’t make sense. Let’s go check your dishes, shall we?” She scrambled to keep it together but she eventually conceded. “I just thought you’d have more fun if you were on my level.” she said. I told her I can have fun however I choose and how fucked up it was and etc. I wasn’t mean but I wasn’t fuckin around. It would seem she wasn’t a sociopath cause she sank exactly the way she should’ve.

She asked me “Are you just gonna leave then?” I told her “You know, this was fucked up but I think it was a poor decision made by an alright person. I don’t think either of us really want the night to end on this note.”

Gentle reader, this night would end on a very different note.

“I packed this bowl and we still haven’t touched it,” I said. “Let’s smoke and snack.” She agreed it was a good call and volunteered some crackers and peanut butter for the cause. We were able to kind of get over the awkwardness of the attempted drugging, but it still sat in the corner of the room. The spectre of insecurity, however, came and sat right with us. As we snacked every topic of conversation somehow managed its way back to her gaining 30lbs over the past year and everyone “judging” her for it. She wasn’t fat, and her “perfect” weight she kept referring to looked unhealthily skinny from pics she showed. This was the late 2000s and Abercrombie had done a number on us all. I commented on how she seemed really stuck on the topic. She apologized and we sat in silence for a minute. Just a film score over credits on the TV.

Her cat decided to break the awkward moment with a cute strut into the room and biiig stretch. “Hey, check this out!” Jessica said. I watched as she thrust three fingers into the jar of peanut butter on the table and proceeded to lean over to her cat and smear it all on his head and down his back. I sat there frozen, my brain trying to tell me that is in fact what just happened, as Jessica literally rolled on the floor laughing. I don’t think I’d seen a true rofl in years and I don’t think I’ll ever see another as perplexing or unwarranted. She’d just had the funniest experience of her life, and I’d just had enough.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!?!” I no longer cared about this girl or this experience. I no longer cared what a person might think of me, least of all her. “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT???” the cat had run off already, leaving a trail of peanut butter on the carpet and furniture. I’m sure Jessica probably rolled in some. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Her face changed instantly. She became the child she was acting like. She quickly gave up being defensive for crying. She ran to her room and slammed the door. Pillow-muffled sobs carried through the wall.

I grabbed some paper towels from the kitchen and picked up the larger globs of peanut butter off the floor. I put all her dishes in one side of the double-bowl sink, and went up to her cat who had cozied up on some pillows struggling desperately to lick peanut butter off himself. “I think we’re both gonna hate this” I said to him as he hesitantly let me pick him up. I walked him to the kitchen and tried to mentally prepare myself for an unfamiliar experience. I had not gotten to know many cats at this point in my life and I sure as hell had never even thought about bathing them. I just knew they hated water. But also peanut butter smeared on them.

Folks, this cat bath did not go smoothly. I didn’t know to scruff him so i just felt the flurry of claw attacks as I did my best to remove a third of a jar of peanut butter from his fur with good ol’ dish soap. “Is this okay to use?” I wondered. “They have ducklings and stuff on the commercial. It’s gotta be okay.” I was sure of one thing though, a duckling wouldn’t draw near as much blood.

I dried off this poor cat as best I could with some paper towels, but he was still soaked. Despite my best efforts there was also a not insignificant amount of peanut butter on him as well. Whatever. I tried. I didn’t have to do any of this. I surely wasn’t gonna do anymore. Jessica’s sobs had given way to the sounds of shitty Beatles covers from the Across the Universe soundtrack. I guess she was in her happy place. I wiped myself off and gathered my things.

“Something in the way she moves-” I hear through her bedroom door. “Attracts me like no other lover-” I chuckle at the irony as I knock. No answer. “Something in the way she woos me-” Oh no… I can feel the song sticking to this moment. I knock again. No answer. “I don’t wanna leave her now-” God please get me out of here I love this song. I gently open the door. “You know I believe and how-” Jessica was indeed in her happy place. Fully nude in her computer chair. Legs spread. Feet on desk. Hands busy. “I’m gonna head out.” I say, seemingly to no one. “It’s been real.” I do not exist in this moment. Only Jessica, her porn, and shitty Beatles covers. I close the door and I leave. It’s finally over… but what toll has it taken from me?

“Somewhere in her smile she knows-”

Fucking Jessica…

[firstmatelee]

Untitled pirate story, chapter 1

It was a dark and stormy night on the pirate island of Tortuga. Despite the weather, business went on as usual. Wenches were serving at the bustling taverns where multiple fights were breaking out in. The alley animals of the night were trying to stay warm and dry. As for me, well, I was getting hungry with no money. Not having money wasn’t anything new; to be honest, I haven’t had any coin in months. Well, I suppose that’s a lie. I have managed to scrape some money by but, it was never technically mine. However, can you really blame me? A lass has to eat somehow.

As the rain poured down on me, I looked for a target tavern. The busier the tavern, the more the customers wouldn’t notice a few coins gone. After about 15 minutes of walking, and my boots getting soggy, I found one. The dimly lit sign above the door swung in the wind and read: “The Bloody Wench”.  As I looked through the window of the tavern, I saw that nearly all the tables were full.

Perfect.

I gently opened the doors and began to try to find a target. As I passed by tables, I quickly and quietly put my hands in the pockets of customers. I managed to pull some coins and, if I felt sneaky and inclined enough, steal some food scraps. The night was going well, I was slowly collecting enough coins to afford a meal. I was just about to call it a night when I saw my next target.

In a dimly lit corner of the tavern sat a burly pirate captain. He was sitting alone with his back turned to the rest of the tavern, as if ignoring the chaos. His clothing, much like his skin, was weathered from what I could only assume was from years of sailing. He had a variety of beads and other trinkets that dangled off his long dark hair. To top it off he wore a dark red coat that had seen better days. The captain looked like almost everything on him was valuable. If I could just sneak something off him, something that was easy to reach.

As I snuck over to him to get a closer look that’s when I saw it, dangling just below his belt, a slightly dulled but still shiny decently sized compass. As I stealthily approached the table, I slowly reached out my hand and gently grasped it. I started to untie it from his belt when suddenly, a hand grabbed me tightly by the wrist.

Karma has a funny way of sneaking up on you. You can run away from it all you wish but you will one day have to face it. I suppose that’s what you could call my current situation. Staring into the eyes of a rather intimidating pirate captain was not how one would prefer to spend their evening. Especially one that has you by the wrist because you may have tried to steal from him in a pub. No, most people would not be in that predicament. However, I was never one to fit into the category of “most people”. “What do you think you’re doing, missy?” the pirate asked me in a deep raspy voice.

My mind started to race. Sure, I've been caught before but, all I had to do then was outrun them. This time was different. The pirate had my wrist tightly in his grasp and was not letting go anytime soon. The only way out of this was hope and wit (and I mean A LOT of hope). 

"W-well sir," I started, trying not to stutter but failing. "I just saw you in the corner and couldn't help but notice that your compass was falling and-"

I tried to pull my wrist away from his grasp, but it was futile as the old pirate laughed in annoyance.

"Lass, my son tells better lies than that," he pulled out a rather large knife before jamming it into the table. "Now, tell me what you were doing before you start losing fingers."

My breath caught as panic surged through me, my heartbeat quickening. I needed a way out of this and fast. Desperate, I looked the pirate in the eyes and spat on him.

Terrible decision, but I was desperate.

"Why you little-!" He yelled at me, grabbing his knife and yanking it out of the table. 

I flinched, awaiting impact and pain in my hand. I wasn't completely ready to lose a finger or two but here goes nothing. Suddenly, someone else yelled—not at me, thankfully.

"Dad!" Yelled a younger voice "Oi, what did the lass do to you?"

I turned to the voice—a teenage pirate with raven black hair, loosely tied back with a red bandana. He couldn't have been much older than me, but there was a certain swagger in his step. His sun-kissed skin, likely from years spent under the harsh sea sun, hinted at a life already filled with adventure. Trinkets and beads dangled from his hair, much like his father. In each hand, he held two mugs of rum, passing one to his father.

"This little brat not only tried to steal my compass, but also spat on my face." Replied the older pirate, taking the mug.

The boy looked at me, then his father, then back to me again before settling on his father. 

"That was either an very brave or very stupid move, miss.....?" Said the boy, subtly asking for my name.

"Lin," I replied "and you would have tried it too, if you were in my circumstances."

The boy nodded, understandingly. He took a drink from his mug before speaking again.

"Pleasure to meet you, Lin. I'm Jack and the man, who has you oh-so-delicately by the wrist is Captain Edward Teague. Now, would you care to explain what brought you here today?" Jack asked, intrigued.

The boy seemed far mor interested in my story than his father. I told him I’d explain everything, but only if his father would let me go. Jack looked up to his dad, waiting for a response.

"Well, Dad?" Jack asked, with a slight head tilt. 

Teague looked back at me, "You promise not to run?"

I nodded quickly "I swear to it."

Teague let go of my wrist and I sat down on a proper chair as Jack sat down in front of me.

"Now, Lin, care to tell me what circumstances compelled you to steal, or try to steal, from the Keeper of the Pirate code?" Jack asked me.

‘Keeper of the pirate code’? I had no idea what that meant but it sounded important. In either case, it was just my luck to try to steal from someone who seem to have authority in Tortuga.

“In my defense, I had little idea who he was or what the ‘Pirate Code’ is. I was simply trying to get coin for the evening so I wouldn’t have to go hungry.”

Jack gave me a look. “You’re a pirate on Tortuga and you don’t know the code? It’s a rather important set of rules, or at least guidelines, that all pirates and their crew follow. You’ve really never heard of it?” I let out a sigh in slight annoyance, he was making me remember things I’d rather not. It is a common misconception that I was a pirate, being on the island of Tortuga and all. However, that was far from the truth. I was just trying to survive and find a way off this island.

“I’m not a pirate, Jack.” I replied, “I am simply the daughter of merchant sailors who encountered some…. Unforeseen weather issues. Weather that led me to wash up on this bloody island.” Teague took a drink from his mug, then looked at me.

“How long have you been on this island by yourself?” he asked. I thought for a moment before replying, “About….9 months and 14 days?” Teague’s eyes widened in slight surprise, Jack’s expression soon following.

“And in that time, you survived completely on your own?” Continued Teague.

I nodded, then Jack chimed in.

“That’s bloody impressive for someone who claims not to be a pirate on a pirate island. Especially for someone close to my age. Have you ever been caught?”

I laughed nervously at that question.

“Hasn’t everyone been caught at least once or twice? Yes, I’ve been caught before, but I’ve managed to wiggle my way out of it. After all I still have all my fingers, don’t I?”

I raised up my hand and wiggled my fingers. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Teague smile ever so slightly at my dark jest.

“I suppose you do,” Jack replied with a small laugh “And where have you been staying all this time?” “Alleyways or anywhere free to stay out of the elements for the night.” I replied.

“Are you implying that you’ve been surviving on this God-forsaken pirate island for almost 10 months by yourself?” asked Captain Teague, who seemed surprised by my response. Across the table, Jack shared the surprised look.

 I nodded in response. Teague almost sounded impressed.

“You’re how old?” Teague continued.

“14 as of last month,” I replied.

“Must have been one hell of a birthday, ay?” Jack half-joked.

I laughed a little bit because, if I’m honest, it had been. I spent it in an alleyway eating a piece of gingerbread and fruitcake that I stole off a windowsill. The owner chased me down for a good 15-20 minutes before I managed to outrun them. I also had to hide in a rather large crate to stay safe from both the owner and the storm that had just started. Happy 14th birthday to me.

I laughed a little “Honestly, it was. Had some really good deserts, though.”

“Honestly, lass, for not being a pirate, it’s impressive how you’ve managed to survive this long” Jack seemed to be getting more impressed by the minute. He then looked at his dad “Isn’t it, Dad?”

I looked over to Captain Teague who nodded in agreement. I tilted my head, wondering where this conversation was going. Jack then motioned for his dad’s ear. Teague leaned in as Jack whispered something to him. He gave a thoughtful look as Jack finished whispering.

“Are you certain about that?” he asked in a hush-hush tone.

“As sure as a heart attack, Dad” replied Jack.  

Teague thought for a moment and then let out a huff “If you insist, I just hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

I gave a confused look to both before jack looked to me and spoke.

"My dad and I have a proposition for you, Lin," said Jack, running his finger around the rim of his mug "However, first, you must be starving." 

As if on cue, my stomach growled loudly once again making Jack laugh.

"I'll take that as a yes," Jack retorted "now, tell me lass, how much coin did you make today?"

I quickly put my hand in my pocket and pulled out a rather large number of euros. I quickly counted and then responded to Jack.

"About 30 coin and some pocket lint" 

Jack put his hand out for the money. 

"Well, I’d say you have enough to buy yourself a decent meal, don't you?" he asked, "Get whatever you like, and I can handle anything you can't afford, savvy?"

"Savvy?" I asked, confused while I gave Jack the money.

"Perfect, glad you agree." Jack smiled, misunderstanding me but taking my coin.

I then decided not to question the strange term of agreement any further—this night was strange enough. Jack then looked around the tavern before spotting a bar wench and waving her down. She quickly came over, pulled out a small notepad and pencil before asking me what I wanted. I thought for a moment before deciding.

"I'll have a big bowl of stew, a piece of cornbread, and both legs of the chicken" I told her “Oh, and a mug of water, preferably cold." 

The wench raised her eyebrows a little bit but wrote down my order, nonetheless. She said she'd be back in a while and left to fulfill the order.

"Hungry, aren't you? I can only imagine how long it's been since you've eaten." Jack chimed in.

I let out a small, nervous laugh.

"Do you mean a full meal, Or do you mean what I've managed to 'ethically obtain' these last few months?" I asked, doing air quotes, which made Jack smile in amusement.

After about 15 minutes, the bar wench came back with my food which I promptly dug into. It was one of the most delicious meals I've ever had. Though, I'm pretty sure I'd say that about anything given my previous eating history. 

When I was about halfway done, Teague spoke up.

"Don't you have something to ask Lin, boy?"

Jack, remembering, quickly nodded and looked at me. I took a drink of my water.

"So, lass, as I previously stated I have a proposition for you." He looked at me "How would you like to join us as part of my dad’s crew?" 

I almost spat out my water before swallowing and shooting Jack a look.

"What? Are you bloody serious??" I asked. 

"I know it's a strange request, considering the evening. However, you demonstrated the survival skills and wit that a proper pirate would need."

Despite his explanation, I was still super hesitant. I looked at Teague with a look that asked: ‘Is your son serious?’ He gave me a single nod before I looked back at Jack who was waiting for an answer.

I thought about it some more, though I was hesitant. Anyone would be if the same people offering had just tried to cut off a finger or two. But the more I considered it, what other option did I have? It was either to become a pirate or spend another month or two—or who knows how long—on this forsaken island. I had no family anywhere else anyway.

"Well? What do you think, Lin?" He insisted, extending his hand. "Do we have an accord?"

Despite my hesitation, I shook his hand, feeling as if this handshake would seal my fate.

"Aye, we do." I replied, prompting Jack to grin excitedly.

"Perfect," Jack then looked at his father. "What now, dad?"

Teague took a final drink from his mug before speaking.

"Take her back to the Wicked Wench and get her settled for the night. We’ll make a pirate out of her yet.”

Jacke nodded in agreement then perked his head up as he thought of a question. "Quick question, Lin" he began "How are you with a sword?"

I smiled sheepishly. 

"I've never even held one."

Silence fell over the table as Jack and Teague exchanged looks that read, ‘This is going to take a lot of work’.

"Would you two let me finish eating before judging my sword abilities—or lack thereof?"

With that, I quickly devoured the rest of my food (not elegant at all, but what can I say? I was starving). Jack finished his ale, paid with a mix of his money and mine, and stood up. The boy glanced at his dad for further instructions.

"Alright, see you in a while, Dad." Jack then took my wrist "Come along, Lin"

As he led me through the bustling tavern, I tried to take my wrist free. 

"You know, I am perfectly capable of—"

"DUCK!”, yelled Jack suddenly, yanking us both down as a bottle of rum flew over our heads, crashing and shattering against a nearby wall. The Rum dripped down the wall as the culprit laughed in the distance. Jack looked back at me. "You were saying, lass?"

"I was saying: feel free to guide me."

I personally didn't feel like taking a bottle—or anything else—to the face. Jack then stood both of us up and continued our walk.

"Glad you see it my way." Jack replied as we walked.

We left the tavern and entered the—less rainy—streets of Tortuga. The streets had calmed down for the most part as people were heading to bed for the evening. The walk was mostly quiet until Jack eventually spoke up.

"So, Lin, you have a last name? Or do you not know it?"

"It's Hearthstone. Lin Hearthstone. Not that it matters anymore," I said, coldly.

"Course it does," replied Jack "That's what people would call you to be fancy. My dad may call you that on deck."

I then stopped walking for a moment, Jack turned around to look at me.

"I'd prefer if he didn't," I said with a hitch in my voice "it reminds me of...past events."

Jack looked taken aback by my statement but, after a moment, nodded understandingly.

"I suppose if that's what you want, I won't tell him." Jack replied, "But I do suggest you wipe that teary look off your face—it doesn't suit you at all." 

I was caught off guard from that last statement feeling my face grow warm from his comment. I let out a small laugh.

"Thanks Jack, I appreciate it."

"Not a problem lass, if it makes you feel any better, I'm not too fond of using my last name too."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Well, it is my full intention to be a captain of my own ship much like my dad one day. It would be quite odd for there to be two 'Captain Teagues', wouldn’t it?"

I thought about it then nodded "I suppose it would. Well, what would you like me to call you?

Jack's eyes lit up, clearly happy I asked. He struck a dramatic pose, as if he were already a captain.

"Although the Captain is not yet my title, call me Captain Jack Sparrow." He told me, proudly 

After a moment of silence, I giggled at that last name. Jack’s face reddened slightly in embarrassment.

"Oi! I never teased you about your name!" he exclaimed, crossing his arms.

"No, no, I'm not teasing you. I think it's a good name—a bit unusual, but good. It seems to imply that you want to be free like, well, a sparrow. Besides, 'Captain Jack Sparrow' has an excellent ring to it."

Jack, after being reassured, nodded in agreement "that's what I think too. My personal motto is ,'A pirate is meant to be free', and I think a sparrow is a good symbol of that."

"So, we're in agreement then? I'll simply call you Lin if you call me Jack Sparrow. Savvy?"

He extended his hand, and I shook it.

"Savvy," I replied. 

After Jack and I made an agreement, he took me by the wrist again and continued to guide me. Eventually, we arrived at the docks and stopped in front of the Wicked Wench.

"And here we are, my dad's prized ship." Jack stated as he started climbing up the ship.

I paused for a moment to take it all in. The wood was rich, dark brown, and aged like fine wine. The sails, though a bit tattered, had a worn, off-white hue. It was an absolutely gorgeous ship. 

"Are you coming, or are you just going to gawk all day?" Jack hollered from the deck of the ship, startling me out of my trance.

"Oh, sorry! Coming, Jack!" I yelled back, quickly climbing up to follow in pursuit.

When I got on deck, I tried to take a step forward and almost ate dirt by falling on my face. Jack quickly grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me close to him for balance.

"Something tells me you haven't walked on a ship for a while?" asked Jack remarked.

"Actually, back on my dad’s merchant boat, there was hardly any room to stand—only to sit. So this is my first time standing, let alone walking, on a ship of any kind" I admitted sheepishly.

I was a little embarrassed by how close I was to the young lad. However, it's not exactly like I had a choice at the moment.

"Well, you're definitely going to be a work in progress of a pirate aren't you lass? I had something to drink and I'm almost not eating dirt" Jack said, playfully jabbing at me. 

I rolled my eyes and went to retort but, a wave hit the ship suddenly, making it rock. I clung to Jack for dear life. I didn't care about the closeness anymore at the moment. I just wanted to stay stable and survive. Jack put his arm around my waist as I put an arm around his shoulders. 

"No, lass, do you think you can walk with me to where you'll be sleeping for the night?" Jack started, "Or am I to assume you're just going to stand here getting seasick for the rest of the evening?"

"Please don't tell me that..." I paused to try not to puke "you're going to put me with....all the other pirates."

I didn't want to think about what the crew might do to a young lady if given the chance, especially in a dark, cramped room with 99% men. Running was my main source of defense, and it likely would have worked in my favor.

"Don't be absurd," Jack reassured me. "You'd get eaten alive if I sent you to sleep with the rest of the crew."

I sighed in relief.

"However, it's either that or sleep in my cabin. The room which only has a bed and the floor. Although, I suppose you could make the table and chair work as well. I could also put you where the other young crew mates sleep but, that area is pretty full." 

My relief was gone in an instant. I was once again left without a real choice in the matter. Sure, not sleeping with the crew sounded wonderful, but I still couldn't fully trust Jack. He must have noticed my conflicted expression.

"I could always give you a pillow and blanket for the floor in my cabin if you—"

I cut Jack off after another moment of thought. I was still very hesitant to sleep next to him, but at least he was my age. If Jack messed with me, I’d have a fighting chance. Besides, it had been months since I’d slept in a proper bed. 

"I'll agree to sleep next to you under two conditions."

"I'm all ears, lass"

"1) We put a pillow between us and 2) you under the fact that if you lay a singular finger in me, I will leave the ship immediately. Do you understand me, Mr. Sparrow?" Jack smiles slightly at 'Mr. Sparrow', glad that I remembered his preferred last name, and nodded understandingly. "Heard loud and clear, Ms. Lin" he replied wittily. Eventually, Jack managed to guide me to his cabin. Luckily, my stomach didn’t make me throw up, though it threatened to. The cabin was what you’d expect from a pirate ship. There was a table and chair to the left of the room, which was cluttered with maps, papers and quills. On the other side of the room was Jack's bed. The bed wasn't made but looked big enough to fit both of us, luckily. All furniture was bolted to the floor to prevent it from being moved by any sudden waves. Jack let go of me as I sat on the bed, finally steady.

"Not too shabby of a room," I said as I kicked off my boots.

“It’s comfortable,” replied Jack, sitting next to me, also taking off his boots “Beats being in the room over and hearing my dad snore in my ear all night.”

I let out a small laugh as I yawned. Jack and I talked a bit more about how everything worked on the ship, some duties his dad assigned to him, and the crew. Jack suddenly looked as if he’d just remembered something.

“Oh, by the way, as I mentioned earlier,” he began “There are a few other younger crew members on board. They’re like my personal crew, and we cause our fair share of trouble. I can introduce you tomorrow; you’ll love them.”

As I lay down on my designated side of the bed (mine was left by the wall, Jack’s was right), I yawned before responding.

“Well, I hope I make a good first impression like I did your dad this evening.”

Jack chuckled as he placed a pillow between us. “Trust me lass, I’m sure they’ll think you, although a wee bit stupid, rather brave for what you did. You’ll fit right in.”

Jack lay next to me as we both tucked ourselves in, keeping the pillow border above the blanket. Jack turned his back to me while I faced the wall. There were a few moments of silence as we both began falling asleep.

“On a final note, Lin, make sure to get plenty of sleep. You should have your sea legs by tomorrow and its day one of sword training, savvy?” Jack said drowsily, clearly half asleep like I was.

I was much too tired to sleep so I merely gave a tired ‘….mhm….’ Luckily, that was a perfectly fine response as I heard Jack begin to snore.

As I began to drift off, I wondered what was to become of me. I’ve never considered myself to be a pirate, but I suppose that was what I was becoming. If I was honest with myself, I didn’t really mind that idea.

[isawken]

so the thing is

the thing is i think about my sorry 20 year old ass taking dozens of mgs of stolen barbiturates in my one bedroom apartment luxuriously paid for by an excess of student loans playing spyro the dragon on my 11 year old playstation 2 slim living the young artist's dream just me and a cat and and memory loss skipping class to make mediocre art too high to self harm in the old fashioned "burn or cut myself" way so i didn't think the other stuff i was doing was all that bad and trying really hard to be a mediocre waitress at a mediocre faux-high-brow restaurant and finally after a month being honest with my therapist and her recommending, not telling, me to self admit to Forest View Psychiatric Hospital and i actually did because i didn't know what else to do and i got in there and they took my shoelaces and i cried for about 36 hours straight because what the fuck did i just do, until they finally gave up on the trazadone that just straight up was not working and gave me seroquel and i finally slept for a while and then just sat in the bedroom i shared with an 18 year old anorexic (who would soon ask to get transferred to the minor ward and they'd let her for reasons i'm still not clear on other than the assumption of empathy on the part of her assigned psychiatrist which is frankly hard for me to believe) because they didn't actually care if you went to the group therapies as long as you were somewhere visible for their regular 15 minute check ins but after the 3rd day of now-intermittent crying and 6 new medications and mediocre forced sleep i asked if i could take a nap in one of the quiet rooms and they let me and it was one of the best naps i ever had in my life and when i woke up i was in a great mood and my whole perspective had somehow shifted and suddenly this was a good thing i was okay with being here (i still have no idea how this happened) and i went to group therapy and i tolerated the others in therapy telling me the solution to my immense self hate was to trust that god loves me and i went to the art room and drew in coloring books with the others and chatted and a 19 year old taught me about the chemical compounds in mucinex that get you high and i got a new roommate who was also my age also bisexual and she was an opera singer and she knew danish and we chatted up a stereotypically intimidating-looking biker man who had a voice as beautiful as my roommate's and he told us as he was waiting for the single-shower room about the benefits of MDMA for trauma and how the best thing you can do when you're rolling is "the airplane" and a 48 year old pill popper mother of 4 taught me how to jam a plastic spoon into the shower button in your room so you don't have to keep pressing the button for water and a guy named zander told me a bunch of pun jokes and we started sitting together at lunch and one day it was chicken wings, like actually decent chicken wings, so he ate a bunch and then left the bones piled on his plate as he left to get another round and the woman sitting across from us leaned over, eyes honed on my face, and very gently asked if it would be okay if we could cover up the bones on our plates because it reminded her of her captivity by two men and subsequent torture, specifically when they shoved a broken handle through her foot and

and

and my reaction was, of course, to say yes yes, of course, it's no trouble at all, zander won't mind either, and he came back as we were talking, and i simply told him let's cover up our bones as i unfolded a napkin and draped it over his plate, and he nodded in immediate understanding, and i switched conversation topics to something light like oh where are you from what did you do before this what drugs did you take and it was an otherwise fine lunch as we all commiserated over our substance abuses and

and

and ever since then, even during subsequent life-changing mental breakdowns, it's never been as bad as that first one, because i think of her (i can't remember her name i wish i did she deserves me to remember her name) and i am grateful that i can look at a pile of chicken bones and be okay

as far as psych ward experiences go mine was pretty much as positive as one could get and i'm so lucky and i'm so grateful but

it wasn't until way after my experience that i learned that other psych wards gave their patients fun grippy socks.

i never got grippy socks. and even worse than that.

i never got my fucking shoelaces back.

[hell0mega]

here is the link to the original post and I've went ahead and copied the body text to put it under a read more jic it gets removed (though I'm sure wayback is gonna get this one) including her update

"champion flight" is a user who is constantly commenting on relationship_advice posts but basically what he said was that the husband was trying to use magical thinking and technicalities to cheat on op and explore his sexuality without admitting to the reality of it

at one point op does call it "sissy stuff" but generally doesn't seem entirely homophobic (she kept calm during the discussions, she said if he were gay or bi that's fine, they'd just need to figure out what that meant for the marriage and she didn't want to be cheated on regardless of the other person's gender) the husband is not in the right here at all lol

My (42F) husband (42M) has informed me he intends to go on a "gaycation" with his BIL (35M) in Ibiza. How do I handle this?

Hi there, I really wish I didn't have to make this post but...here goes. So me and my husband have been happily married for about 16 years give or take. We both have stable careers, good family life and are fairly fortunate despite the cost of living racking the UK right now. We have two boys (15 and 10) and up until this Sunday, thought we had it pretty good. We argue sometimes of course but never gotten too bad and we have a pretty decent sex life with some exploration but I won't get into that. Long and short is, on Sunday, just after I dropped our boys off at their friends, my husband asked me if we had the house alone and more importantly, do I have a minute. I said yes and he sat me down then got out this printed poster for some sort of orgy and started explaining to me the concept of a 'gaycation'. How it's where straight men go to somewhere with "sun, sand and booze" and "become gay" for the duration of the trip but that's fine because it doesn't actually count, because "what happens on the gaycation, stays on the gaycation". I was just completely silent and mortified, even moreso when he said he was looking into booking a trip to Ibiza next year with his BIL (his sister's husband) to experience it for himself. When he finally let me speak I just said, I need him to be clear with me, is he gay? Because if yes, that's "okay" but we need to figure out what happens going forward. I didn't let myself get angry or upset, I was just...stunned. He swore up and down how he's not gay and he's 100% attracted to women and of course still loves me and our boys. So I said well do you think you're bi maybe and he got very defensive, saying how I need to drop the accusations and that this is the beauty of the gaycation, it allows straight men to "experience" gayness without actually being gay and how it's like going to an aquarium??? And again he was adamant he doesn't find men's bodies or genitalia exciting at all, but he needs to experience this apparently. I said well I'm really not comfortable because even if he was bi, this would be explicitly cheating on me and he got angry and reiterated he's not, because "that's the beauty of the gaycation" etc. I just had enough and left the room.

I ignored him for the rest of the day but we spoke at tea where I again asked him, why does he want to do this so bad if he's not gay? He said how he's interested in how gay men's live differ to straight men's and that unfortunately, once the gaycation begins, it's simply impossible for a man to resist and he must "surrender himself mind, body and soul" to the gaycation or "be destroyed". I really cant't put into words how surreal it was, because he was speaking so matter of factly and he again insists this is a thing that straight men do all the time and how he's actually "doing it a bit late". I just said to him if he has any love for me then he can't go ahead with this and if he does, the marriage will be dead. We didn't speak anymore after that. Since then he's mentioned no more of it but somehow, and this is what scares me a lot too, that decision genuinely seems to be tearing him up??? He didn't go into work on Monday (and only went in half a day yesterday) because he told them he just felt too ill and he just looks distraught every time I see him. I really don't think he's wholly gay though I can absolutely believe he's bi but I'd rather we talked about that in a healthy way rather than this incredibly weird denialism around going on a sex holiday to Ibiza.

Has anyone known straight guys to do this and come back and just go back to being straight. Like surely that can't be a thing that happens. I'm so out of my depth here and I just don't know how to even initiate the conversation. For the record I also haven't mentioned it to his sister yet, I don't know how I'd even break it to her. Thanks for any help, I just don't even want to think so being able to get this out there has helped even just a little bit.

Edit: Wow this blew up! This has been incredibly sobering and I think I've now confirmed what I already knew to be the case. The marriage is dead, one way or another. In a way I was in denial myself about that. I have contacted my SIL and she initially screamed at me, calling me a liar and even insinuated I was trying to steal her husband. She rang me back shortly after, apologised and admitted she was in deep, deep shock. I have asked my parents to look after the boys and we're going to meet tomorrow to discuss this deeper. I have also texted my husband and told him he will need to make alternative accommodation arrangements but he will not be sleeping here tonight and a bag will be waiting for him. Not sure if the mods want to lock the post or not but I think I've got my answers. Thank you for all the kind words, especially Champion Flight who really gave me the good dose of reality I needed.

P.S. I see a lot of people asking about the aquarium and at risk of doxxing myself - there is a pretty famous aquarium in the UK called "The Deep". At the very end you walk through a tunnel that goes underneath the main fish tank so it's quite 'immersive' I suppose. My husband explained the aquarium thing in that it's a bit like that. You go there and you "observe" the fishes, you even get a bit up close but you never actually enter the water (get emotionally invested) or "become a fish "(gay) so it doesn't really count. It was a very bizarre analogy and I pointed out it still makes no sense and he just got more in a huff and how I just "don't get it". And frankly I still don't

Oh come on lady, you can't deny a man his gaycation

[scythegameing]

Conflicting Lives: Chapter 1 - Late Start

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60544732/chapters/154573222

Word Count: 1981

-- beep - beep - beep - beep --

Scythe groaned as he reached for his phone to turn off his alarm. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, then looked at the time on his phone. It read 8:30am.

“Shit” Scythe cursed as he scrambled to get out of bed. He must’ve slept through his alarms again, and his professor wasn't going to be the happiest with him. He regrettably chose to have an 8am class, and it was the kind of class that you had to make sure you were almost fully awake to properly understand the material for.

What was this class, you might ask? Feline Behavior and Psychology. His professor was a kind soul, relatively easy on attendance, but it was still a decent percent of his class grade. And this was the 6th time in a month in a half that this has happened.

After putting his clothes on with lightning speed, he grabbed his bag off his desk and walked out of his room. “You have food in the microwave, though it may be cold again.” He heard a voice say behind him. Scythe’s shoulders tensed just a little bit before he sighed and responded, “Thank you, Ella.”

Ella was his roommate and partner, but her classes didn't start until the afternoon. She always woke up earlier than him though, and he figures it must be a bird thing; she is a phoenix hybrid after all.

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed his, now cold, food before walking to the door of their apartment-style dorm. Before leaving, however, he looked back to the couch where Ella was sitting, watching some new tv show she found. “Alright, see you later!” he said before leaving.

Scythe’s college campus wasn't huge. It wasn’t very small either, not in the slightest, but for some reason Scythe felt as though the short bike ride to the Animal Sciences building took twice as long as it normally does. Maybe it was because he had just woken up, but that still didn't explain why it felt like he was riding for 15 minutes when it was only around 8.

Thankfully there wasn’t really anyone just sitting in the halls, so he was able to walk to his class with relative ease. It was closer to the middle of the building, so it wasn’t great to get to when everyone else was trying to get to their own classes or leave the building entirely, but the empty halls were kind of nice.

When he got to his classroom door, he peered through the small window to see if he could sneak in without being noticed too much. His professor was turned around in his wheelchair and facing the board, showing the class something he couldn't quite make out from here. After just watching for a few more seconds, Scythe decided that he had a pretty decent chance of being able to get to his seat without being noticed, so he quietly opened the door and walked in.

Closing the door quietly behind him, he made his way to his seat. He was almost there, about to put his bag behind his chair and sit down when his professor cleared his throat.

“You’re late again, Mr. Cristaal.” he said, his voice carrying a disappointed undertone to it. 

Scythe’s shoulders tensed as he felt everyone in class, who wasn’t already looking at him, turn and face in his direction. His thin tail curled around his legs subconsciously and he wished he could just disappear. Unfortunately for him, he had to respond.

“I know, I’m sorry Professor Scar.” Scythe knew that a sorry didn't really mean much anymore, but to his credit he really was sorry! 

“Unfortunately, sorry doesn't make up for lost material. Stay a minute after class and we can talk then.” He has said before turning back towards the board and continuing the lesson.

As Scythe sat down, tail and head hung low, he cursed himself for being late, and why he was even late in the first place.

~~~~~The previous night~~~~~

It was late at night, and Scythe was causing mischief with a fellow villain, Spindle. Spindle wasn't very well known, not on his own at least. But the media seemed to think Spindle was his side-kick of sorts. Neither of them really minded, and had a good laugh every time a new article came out about the both of them. A lasting favorite was one with the title “Nebula and Spindle: The New Pair to Look Out For”, and another one, “Is Spindle Stand-Alone, or under Nebula’s Wing?”

Obviously neither of them went by their real names, and the public seemed more than happy to create their names for them. Spindle got his name from being a spider hybrid, and always leaving some sort of web at a crime scene. Scythe got his name, Nebula, from his outfit of dark colors and dappled speckles of white, like a galaxy in a way. If he was able to choose though, he might’ve chosen something like Ender, but that was probably a bit too easy.

Back on topic, he and Spindle were running away from a scene together once again. They decided to break into a jewelry shop tonight, and took just about as much as they could carry while still being able to move quickly. Cops arrived at the store just as they left, and were being pursued. No heroes had shown up yet, which was a bit surprising to Scythe with how often the strongest were called for him and him alone, but he was glad to have an easy out.

They had lost the police a good few turns ago, and it definitely helped that they were jumping from roof to roof to lose them even faster. Scythe slowed down as he jumped to this roof though, and Spindle almost jumped to the next. Instead though, he realized that scythe had stopped, and turned around to look at him confused.

Scythe just stood on the roof with his bag of jewelry in his hand and listened. He didn’t hear the sirens anywhere near, nor did he hear officers talking to each other over a radio. He chucked, “We lost ‘em”

He took a deep breath and sat down on the rooftop, setting his bag next to him. He saw Spindle shrug and walk over next to him, sitting down as well. They sat in this comfortable silence for a while, content with eachothers company.

“What now?” Spindle asked, his New Zealand accent welcomingly different from what Scythe usually hears. It’s not that he didn’t see Spindle much, the two are actually quite close friends outside of being villains, Scythe is just usually around those with an American or English accent.

Scythe thought a bit to himself before he responded. Then he smirked and got up, looking at Spindle. Spindle looked back up at him with curiosity. “Whoever gets back to my dorm last is a rotten egg!”

“Hey! No fair!” Spindle said in shock as he scrambled to stand up, Scythe already taking the lead. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“...ythe, are you awake?” Scythe sat up with a jolt. He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep, just more missed material. Scar was next to him in his wheelchair, and Scythe couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead he looked around the room to see that there were no other students, it was just him and Scar.

“I’m sorry.” Is all Scythe could manage to say. He still avoided Scars eyes. Not because he was angry or anything, but because he knew that they were filled with worry and pity. The last thing he wanted was his mentor to throw him a pity party.

Scar sighed and turned to face the same way Scythe was while still being next to him. “I heard about the bank, you know. You were lucky that no one was called.” Scythe tensed and shrunk in on himself a little. He wasn’t surprised that Scar knew, it was more so that he said it so casually, and was completely right.

“I know…” Was all he could reply with. Scar changed the topic, “Scythe, you can’t keep…” he chose his next words very carefully, “going out so late.” He turned his head to look at Scythe, who was still avoiding eye contact. “The other students are starting to notice that you’re getting the materials when you haven’t been here. As much as I want to help you as a friend, I won't be able to do much more as your professor.” he continued

Scythe took a deep breath before responding. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.” he ended up saying. He meant it, he really did, but man was his time management skills absolutely abysmal on top of his non-existent sleep schedule.

Scar nodded and started wheeling back to his desk. “I’ll send you the material from today, but I don’t think I'll be able to from here on out. I’m sorry Scythe, but you’ll have to be on your own.”

Scythe got up and walked towards the door of the classroom. “I understand. Thank you for helping me so far through my stupidity.” He walked out and towards the entrance to the building without waiting to hear Scar’s response.

He had just left the building and had turned to go in the direction of the building his next class was in when his phone buzzed. He pulled his phone out to look at it. It had to be important, there were only a few things he had set to go through his do not disturb.

New message from Spore: Mandatory meeting at HQ for all recipients. Meet in 30 minutes.

Scythe sighed and  turned around to start walking back to his dorm. He was going to put his phone away, but another message popped up.

Scar: I’m assuming you got the message as well? Scythe: Yeah, walking back to my dorm to drop off stuff and get changed. Scar: Will you be able to make it on time?

Scythe winces slightly as the reminder of his untimeliness.

Scar: That came off worse than I meant it. I wanted to offer a ride if you needed. Scythe: No worries, I get it. A ride would probably be nice just so I don't have to stress as much. Scar: Alright, I’ll meet you off of xxxx and xxxx. Scythe: Sounds good, I'll be there in 10 min, max.

With that, Scythe actually puts his phone in his pocket and starts making his way back to his dorm. With the help of his teleportation, he made it back to his hall in 3 minutes flat. Once he got in, he went straight to his room to change, not seeing Ella’s curious glace.

He changed quickly, and tossed a hoodie on to cover the most recognizable part of his hero uniform. The unique pattern and neckpiece were too easily recognized to risk walking around campus with them showing, and he had his eye mask around his neck which made it look like a scarf more than anything. It was autumn after all so a scarf made sense to wear.

He was about to leave again when Ella grabbed his wrist, making him turn. “What happened, and where are you going?” She asked.

“Mandatory Agency meeting. Scar’s helping me get there but they sent it out last minute, like they always do.” He replied, apologizing with his eyes and hoping she would forgive him.

Ella let go of his wrist almost immediately. “Alright, be safe and let me know when you’re on your way back.” Scythe smiled and leaned down to give her forehead a small kiss. “I will, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

With that, he left the room and started walking towards the location he and Scar had agreed on.

[keenregine]

A Tale of Two Harry's lol

Trying to back track like I always do, January of 2023. Another year, another 365 days of trial and errors (mostly errors, my pessimist self tells me). 

Being in a long-distance relationship suck, because number 1.  It's 'long-distance'. 2. I have no other reasons to think of. But I'd say we're managing well. No big fights, no big misunderstanding that can't be solved within the day.

No massive Facebook drama. We feel like we're too old for that sh*t. I'm hoping in the nearest future, this predicament of us being an 'LDR' couple will come to an end. But honestly, it doesn't feel as difficult the way it was before, especially now that we're near to each other. I believe I made that point very clear before. 1 hour flight away is such a breeze, but no flight at all would be the dream.

 So anyways, I went to Lyon, France to visit Alex. With his field of work, he gets the opportunity to travel places, that means me too. I've been to Paris 2019, pre CoVid time. Now, I'm glad I get to see Lyon. France has indeed redeemed itself on my perspective (yet it's only the 2nd city I saw of France, I'm trying to make jokes here). Quite the contrary to Paris, Lyon has less rubbish, less drunk people. And although they're not very welcoming (which I'm very much used to), at least they will try their best to speak English to a foreign looking person like me asking where I could find a type C to iPhone cord charger. Plus, I love the countryside-side-but-not-really vibes to it. Let me explain, even though Lyon is geographically small and not highly urbanized. Massive known shops can be seen everywhere, I would even say it has the best options of products that I haven't seen anywhere else. And at the same time, side by side local shops of the most expected French products are also there, but in a tiny, secluded version. The Airbnb we stayed in, is somewhat weird but in a way, Passing through the door, you will step into a narrow 2-person capacity elevator, I can't imagine how one can bring heavy groceries in there or appliances. There's a choice to use the stairs which is cemented, reminds me of stairs in churches, dark and roughly rendered, it adds up to the already cold temperature coming from the outside. And there's the museum, situated in the center is the Lyon, is the Museum of Fine Arts where I finally saw The Great Flood painting. I think I spent nearly 15 minutes just staring at this beauty, and the rest well I lost count. There are other museums to see but we haven't got much time. It's important that I get to ride their transports, the train, buses, we even tried the public scooter (we learned so much from our Barcelona experience), and little did I know they have a tram. This steep tram leads to another town in Lyon, forgive me I forgot what it's called but the main thing we intended to see is the Roman Lugdunum Theatre. I don't really want to describe this (I realize I'm bad at it as you can see), and there you can appreciate how beautiful this ruin is, plus the history it has. I was in a trance imagining what it's like living there before. I hope I get to see more of these in future, it is comforting how they preserve this historically significant places over the years, especially during the war. It just sat there, and survived.

Most of the year I was ill. I had Covid again (which is the worst one, I literally thought I would die there and then), and had flu atleast three times. I guess this was just me adjusting to this cruel cold place. In between those times, all I could do is go to work, the usual cycle. In April, we get to see Jo Koy, he was just fantastic. He's given us our money's worth sitting near front. We plan to see him again in his next show(s). And the midst of searching houses online, when the universe really wants to make it happen, I swear it will happen. Few days prior I was crazily searching decent houses online. The very next day, a colleague of mine randomly asked me if I was 'looking for a house', she was presenting their one-bedroom bungalow flat which was super cute and cozy. As I said, it was the perfect timing. When we first went to see the house, Alex and I immediately fell in love with it and right away said yes. I had to leave my old place, and in that time no one in any of my housemates seen me off. Or even sent me a message of good luck, goodbye or see you around, nothing. *one tear drop But well, I won't hold a grudge and just move along. But here I am mentioning it. lol If it wasn't for Alex the whole process of moving will be four times as hard, he arrange all the things, made sure everything is in order. Alex is too nice that sometimes I feel like I have to balance it, but he won't budge. My colleague who was moving out, have so much stuffs that it took them days and many rounds to completely clear everything out (ours only took one go because of how organized we did it), but Alex helped them all through out. especially with the heavy lifting , throwing out old furniture, and still volunteering to do other things. When everything was done, he thought of things needed for our new house, thought of arrangement in the living room. Even he though he doesn't like folding clothes, he helped me with it and actually did more than I do. He would let me do things I like, such as hammering nails just because I enjoy it and using the screwdriver, and the others he'll finish. I understand it gives off the impression that I'm the useless one here . Well, I do important things sometimes like vacuuming, it's fun. He also does the cooking and prefers to do the dishes after, he would let me carry on sitting on the couch and watch tv, read or scroll on my phone. And still, I have the guts to be mad at him for just anything. tsk tsk Women.

It may seem like we're living together all this time. But not actually, we just had the opportunity visiting each other frequently and we're lucky for that. I was alone in the summer doing the usual boring things. And oh, I went to see Harry Styles out of bliss. When I first came in the UK, I would always listen to his songs. I'm not a fan of One Direction during their peak, not once ever. His solo songs are for me my guilty pleasure, it's kind of stupid that I don't want anybody else to know I'm quite obsessed with him just because I hate joining the bandwagon, I'm pretentious like that. But in all honestly, I just legitimately enjoy his music and he's one of the many artists whom I pleasurably listen to the entire album top to bottom, even until now, no joke. I went alone in his concert in Wembley which is filled with white people, I don't know why is this relevant. It's not 'unusual' that I would go alone if you know me well. The whole time, I swear to God I was just standing there singing out loud and dancing, and because it's a sudden decision, I regret not bringing a pink feather boa or wore a pink glittery hat. I wore my staple black on black outfit. 

I'm pretty sure I didn't mention before. Visiting the Harry Potter Studios was of course one of the musts-see places once I arrive in the UK. I met an old college friend who's also a big 'HP ' fan, without having second thoughts, I went to the studio for the second time, no regrets. lol I missed my friend and we reminisced our college times, drunk and fun times but still thrived. Summer season is the best time to travel anywhere, but weather is just so unpredictable here that even in summer you can't be 100% sure. We arrived there bright and sunny as hell. mid day turned cloudy and by afternoon it rained hard, did I see this on the weather app, no. I went to Bath with my colleagues, it was of course no surprise historic. Same with Lyon, the Roman Bath was beautifully preserved to its core and make you feel like you're a part of an important history. And also, you'll realize how the Roman conquered pretty much everywhere in the world leaving their marks. There's this one juicy information I came across, that they just copied their 'ideas' from those who invented it first, flourished them and presented it in the entire world as theirs. What a cheeky bunch, and now they're known as the brilliant minds. I want to say more but I might be haunted by Julius Cesar's soul in my sleep. Goodnight, it might be a very long wait, but good things are coming. (:

[quieteating]

New Post has been published on Quieteating

New Post has been published on https://is.gd/xEhmbI

Manteca

I am by nature a taciturn man.  I find loud noises annoying, the burp of cars irritating and the barking of small dogs at times surprising.  I generally look to go to restaurants where this isn’t a problem.  But this was not the case here. Lunch was so loud that I couldn’t hear myself think.

While I do not usually hold my thoughts in particularly high esteem (so nothing much is lost) in this case the decibel level was so extreme that I found myself scrunching up my ears (and mouth) to try and minimize the impact.  Screwing up my mouth did impact the taste of things somewhat.

Then again, perhaps they have got something right as they seemed rather busy.  Well at least that’s what I am trying to give them the doubt of.  When we sat down we were told that the concept of the restaurant was that “the food came as it came”.  I.e. they had little kitchen control so couldn’t manage the timing of the food like a normal restaurant and that showed with the extreme tardiness of most of our dishes.  Although being somewhat inept was not something isolated just to the kitchen as the waiters managed to deliver the wrong food to our table three times.

This is the rather nice looking upstairs.  I was excited as I enjoy light filled venues.  Better for photos.  Unfortunately, we were exiled to the basement which was cramped, dark, stuffy and extremely loud.  Must have been something on my face.

Wildfarmed focaccia, rosemary.  As a starter, this was ok.  Nothing special though and it seemed somewhat arbitrary how many pieces of bread you got when you ordered.  Well, that is what I am using to justify what would otherwise be blatant discrimination as other tables got four servings of bread.

Fried ciccioli, apple mostarda.  Crunchy and fulsome.  Deep umami porky taste, this was rather nice if a little small.  Appeared 15 minutes after ordering.  This was to be a theme throughout the meal, delays like the tube.

Strozzapreti, brown crab cacio e pepe.  First the good, the pasta was nicely cooked al dante.  However, I wonder if more than a teaspoon of crab meat went into this dish, as it seems suspiciously crabless.  I would think that if you were stingy on the more expensive ingredients, the least you could do was try and provide enough grains to make up for that lack.

This was not the case as there was probably 50g of pasta spread around.  This rather meagre portion together with the lack of substance put me in a crabby mood.  Especially as this arrived 30 minutes after ordering.  Maybe they were out crab hunting.

Malloreddus.  Cooked a rather long time, the limp and too soft pasta was lifted up a bit by uninspired mince meat and cheese mix.  As you can see by the photo, this was also a minuscule portion.  We are talking about 1/4 of the usual size here.  Even smaller than the first dish.  Rather heavily over salted too.  The pasta (what little we had) was good though.  It arrived at the 40 minute mark in a haphazard manner much like the waiting service.

Nduja steamed mussels, cream, parsley.  Juicy, succulent with rich sauce.  There was a single rather small slice of fried bread at the bottom to soak up the sauce.  The miserly portions were becoming a bit much.  We had ordered this in the middle of our meal as we realised that the pasta portion sizes would leave us hungry (and grumpy) at the end.

Wood roasted plaice.  Decent but nothing special.  Could have done this myself as it seemed that it had just been roasted with minimal seasoning caveman style.  Then again, at this stage of the meal, I was just looking round for th

Crispy potatoes, salumi brown butter.  Crispy, tasty and fluffy inside.  These were decent but these took over an hour to come.  With that in mind, it wasn’t really worth the wait.

There is a method of giving appraisals, called the sandwich method.  You give good feedback, then improvement points and then finally end on a positive note.  It also has attained some rather less polite monikors which are better not mentioned in the context of food.  Applying this to this restaurant, the taste of some of the dishes was decent, the upstairs dining room had a rather pleasing atmosphere.  As for feedback, the food was rather minimal in portion, scrimping on elements that would have made their food somewhat decent.  To add insult to injury, the pricing was also rather high for what you got.

Trying to think of a positive point to end on, sandwich appraisal style, at least we got our food in the end.  Even if we did have to wait an inordinate amount of time.  To counter that, we also amused ourselves watching the hapless antics of the waiters as they delivered the wrong food to the wrong table (again).  Unfortunately, this entertainment was somewhat curtailed as I couldn’t hear the angry responses from just 2 metres away as it was almost too loud to think.

  A quiet eating 4/10.

Lunch (1.5 course equivalent) was GBP 27 per person excluding service.

  Manteca

49-51 Curtain Road, London EC2A 3PT

[hollenka99]

Not The Boy He Once Knew

Summary: Even if he’s not the best at always showing it, Phil cares about his sons. But when one leaves home and goes down a dark path, all Phil wants is for his little soldier boy to come home safely.

Warnings: Death, stabbing

This is based on Obscuritea’s Little Soldier Boy animatic. You can find them on Twitter at @/0bscuritea.

Phil remembered holding his children for the first time. He could have watched Techno's little snout twitch for as long as his eldest would allow him. Wilbur stared at everything, as if it was mandatory for him to visually absorb as much of the world around him as possible. This included the young pig boy hovering by door, unsure whether he wanted to meet the one who was had made him a big brother. Tommy was a wriggler, that was for sure, always trying to get into a better position within the blanket. Wilbur certainly didn't help things when he clambered onto the sofa in order to push himself through the space under Phil's free arm so he could get a better view of the baby.

Many summer afternoons were spent sitting in the shade of trees, watching his sons play with each other. Sometimes, he'd even be out there strumming on his guitar while doing so. The older Wilbur and Techno got, the more they liked to engage in rough play. More than once, Tommy would be happily sitting on his lap before finding himself caught up in the latest rough and tumble session.

One day while his two eldest are 12 and 9 respectively, Phil is horrified to see them return home from a night time adventure in the nearby woods with blood on their person. It would seem that they'd run into a number of zombies and skeletons. Wilbur had tripped and this had caused Techno to make use of his axe. Most of the blood wasn't even theirs so they argued it wasn't a big deal. As Phil retrieves the bread he has on hand for situations like these, he scolds his boys for being reckless. There wouldn't have even been any mobs about if they'd gone out in the day. Just because death was a three strikes and you're out kind of deal didn't mean they could risk injury or worse for the sake of fun. Now, were there any cuts or scrapes they wanted him to look at? Just the one on Techno's snout? Well alright, best get that sorted then off to bed.

During a week where his attention had been directed perhaps everywhere except towards Wilbur, he notices the light is still on in his room. Good. With a knock, he gets invited in. An apology is issued, after which Phil pulls out some wheat and cocoa beans he had lying around. The boy in his early teens acts as if his eyes don't momentarily light up once it clicks what those ingredients are for. When he makes excuses about being too old to be bribed with cookies as well as pointing out that it was getting late, Phil calls his bluff. Come on, let this be his way of saying sorry tonight then he promises tomorrow morning they can have a guitar session, just the two of them. Wilbur rolls his eyes but heads to the kitchen regardless. Phil's glad he does because that is the first time Wilbur plays an original song he was in the process of creating with him as the audience. It was only a shame that incidences like these were becoming few and far between. He wasn't going to catch every time Wilbur felt ignored, especially if the kid slowly stop attempting to get his attention as often in the first place.

It's an odd feeling when Wilbur says his goodbyes. The years have passed so quickly it's hard to believe his little boy isn't quite so little anymore. However, his second son had been a budding musician for as long as he'd had the dexterity for it. It would be impossible to forget how he had beamed with such intensity upon being gifted his first guitar, so much so that Phil had slightly worried he might injure his mouth or jaw somehow. He'll be fine. Phil had nothing to worry about. Besides, Tommy had already made the journey himself a few weeks ago and it sounded like he was already making friends.

Life carries on with Techno helping out with the farming and the occasional correspondence arriving from the other two. When he hears about drugs in a van, he rolls his eyes. Trust them to do something ridiculous like that. It's less humourous when the word 'war' begins to get thrown around. Then shortly afterwards, Techno is leaving to assist his brothers in their endeavours. This results in an argument as Techno packs. By all means, help Wilbur and Tommy but don't get involved in a war that wasn't his to fight. Phil's anxiety regarding his sons' wellbeing grows due to talk of plans to win back L'Manburg after a failed election resulted in an apparent dictatorship. The more days that passed, the stronger his desire to have all his boys back home safely with him grew.

He sits alone at a table that had once been abundant with life. Once again, Tommy has sent him a letter regarding the situation over there. He was getting scared of his brother's apparent obsession with potentially destroying the nation in a blast. Wilbur had even been heard wondering if Phil would be proud of him. Given the current circumstances, he wasn't so sure how to answer. Tommy had even confessed that both he and Wilbur were on their last lives which petrified Phil more than any of the bad news he'd gotten so far. However, his son was right. Enough was enough.

It was time for Phil to make his way to L'Manburg.

He almost finds it funny how Wilbur's voice immediately morphs into the defensiveness of a child as soon as he realises his father has entered his secret detonation room. It was honestly reminiscent of times such as when he got caught stalking a chicken to gain the egg necessary for a pumpkin pie, said pumpkin being dragged behind him by the stalk. However, his son wasn't 4 anymore. Wilbur was a grown man who had proven himself to maintain less than innocent thoughts and motivations.

But Phil was his father nevertheless. And he would talk him out of this 'blow up L'Manburg' plan like others such as Tommy had previously done. Besides, he knew Wilbur. Deep down, that boy didn't have it in him to cause that much destruction, let alone risk instigating any potential loss of life. All he had to do was calmly talk him down.

L'Manburg had been won back. Even with Wilbur yelling in frustration about the several times he came close to pressing the button, that could be seen as a sign of strength. They could agree to not do anything rash then gradually dismantle the vast quantity of TNT hidden in the walls. The notion that Wilbur would risk triggering the button to see if it was actually rigged is so absurd it makes Phil laugh aloud.

He's certainly not in the mood to laugh within a minute of that moment. By the time thirty or so seconds have elapsed, he is on top of his son, both of them on the ground with only dust and rubble left of what had been the secret underground room. Wilbur had been talking about Eret one second before uttering the infamous line of "it was never meant to be" the next. Phil doesn't think it had truly registered in his mind that the explosives were about to go off when he leapt to protect his son from them.

This couldn't be happening. He knew Wilbur, he knew that he would never be capable of blowing up L'Manburg. Except Wilbur was. He... he had.

It's as Wilbur is screaming into the sky about his unfinished symphony remaining forever unfinished that the reality of his personal mistake makes itself known to Phil. Tommy had warned him that Wilbur was going off the rails. He'd said that Phil shouldn't let his guard be lowered around his brother. The second born of their family was currently not to underestimated.

That grin, that sheer ecstasy upon achieving his goal, the way Wilbur revelled in his 'victory'. Well, what more proof did Phil need to know he'd done the exact things he'd been warned against?

He barely has the chance to acknowledge that before Wilbur is demanding the unimaginable from him. No, perhaps 'demand' isn't the right word. Begging might be more appropriate. A sword is tossed at his feet, an invitation for it to be used. He can't though. Not this. Anything but this. The punishment for reversing countless hours of dedicated hard work should not be a death sentence. That simply does not equate.

"God, you're- You're my son! No matter what you do, no matter what you act like, I can't..."

And it's true. This was the kid who would (along with Tommy most of the time) go on epic adventures to claim treats in chests which were placed high up for the exact purpose of deterring such behaviour. He was the one who'd be found sneaking off to the surrounding caves and mines for the sake of exploration. It was him who practised his rallying speech skills on his brothers and father. More than that, Wilbur was a talented musician who liked writing songs and loved his family. He wasn't some irredeemable criminal who deserved to die to pay for the pain he'd caused.

Phil was not going to give Wilbur what he wanted. At least, he was against it until he realised this was about more than punishment or penitence. This was him asking someone he trusted to free him from the burden of all his wrongdoings. Wilbur wanted peace in his life again. And what kind of father would he be if he couldn't give his son that?

He grabs the sword. If he's going to do this, he'd rather make it as fast as possible. The last thing he wants is the suffering of a loved one. Wilbur tenses as the blade finds its way into his chest then exits. The gasps and stuttered breaths are worse than his son begging for death a minute ago. It's okay, he mutters. Just breathe through it. It'll be alright in a moment. Phil doesn't know whether him stroking Wilbur's hair is helping at all but somehow, it's helping Phil himself so that's good enough. The hand gripping his side begins to lose strength. He lets out a grief-stricken groan as he holds his son as tightly as he can.

"You couldn't just let- you couldn't just win?" There is no response, not even a hint of it.

The walls blown apart, he knows everyone can see him. But what does he care? Wilbur's head rests against his father's chest, arms loosely drooping towards the floor and body slumping alongside it. When he inevitably forces himself to let go, to leave the remains of this godforsaken room and... and bury his son's body back home, he's aware he'll have to face the fact his lap is stained with blood. But that can wait for as long as he can delay it.

For now though, he'll sit here with his eyes closed. Maybe that way he can somehow convince himself he's just holding the little boy who loved finding his way into his father's arms whenever he was drowsy, albeit an enlarged version. It's all he can do to keep the tears and questions of how this could have been prevented at bay.

[angelsanarchy]

Night Cap - Jack Thurlow x MaleY/N

@icarus-star m/m ❤

TW: Explicit Content~Handjobs, Cum Eating 18+

Y/n was lost in his own thoughts, nursing his third drink and really questioning why he even bothered coming out tonight. He jumped dramatically when the stool next to him screech as it suddenly became occupied by a long haired man with blue eyes.

"You look like you're having a blast." He deadpanned.

"I wasn't aware I was giving off an inviting look." Jack nodded his head back like he understood to leave him alone but guilt washed over Y/n's face.

"I'm sorry. I just..I'm not having a great night. It's not your fault." The guy pivoted and sat back down in his chair, extending his hand.

"Jack." He introduced himself and Y/n gave him the fake name he typically gave to random guys. Jack eyeballed him as if he didn't believe the name but smiled anyway.

"It's nice to meet you. Why are you having a bad night?" Jack threw back his shot and turned his full attention towards Y/n.

"I'm just over this scene. This town is far too dull to be young and gay in. I'm tired of striking out and getting manhandled just to never get a call back." Jack nodded like he understood but how could he? He was a good looking guy in a bar who could have anyone.

"Don't they have apps for that?" He inquired earning an eye roll.

"Please, those are even worse than trying to experience real connection in person. It's easier to just get black out drunk and catch a ride home to jerk off." Jack ordered two more shots.

"I mean that usually works for me." Jack slid one of his shots towards Y/n and nodded towards it.

"If you think I'm going to suck you off in the bathroom for listening to my problems, you're sorely mistaken." Jack chuckled as he took the shot without a second thought.

"I promise I'm not trying to get you drunk or get blown in the bathroom." Y/n eyeballed Jack up and down and looked behind him. He hadn't noticed him when he came in despite being a stand out attraction.

"What are you doing in a gay bar? I've never seen you here before." He watched Jack carefully. He didn't have a wedding ring and he wasn't acting like touching the bar top was going to make him catch gay cooties like a lot of the straights that walk in here.

"My best friend and her girlfriend are celebrating a year together." Jack pointed them out and they were sitting together, wrapped up in each others arms sweetly.

"Ah so you're the designated straight friend?" Y/n was prying but he didn't care.

"No I'm just the pathetically single third wheel friend." Jack was too aloof.

"You're curving that question pretty professionally." Jack cut his eyes at him.

"You pick up quickly." Y/n wanted to continue to pry but he figured he didn't want to lose the opportunity to have a decent conversation with a hot guy so he changed the subject.

Y/n learned that Jack was originally from the town over but he's only visiting until he can move all of his stuff from California. He learned that he was engaged once, had a twin and that both his parents were killed in an accident. They had talked almost until the bar was ready to close and when Shanda came to retrieve him, Jack told her that he would be fine to get home.

Jack knew he couldn't drive and he was hoping that Y/n wouldn't either but he followed him towards his car as he jingled keys in his hand.

"You aren't going to try are you?" Jack asked watching him lean against the car.

"Oh no I'm probably just going to sleep it off in my car. I know the owner and he's cool with it. Do you need me to call you a ride?" Y/n asked.

"Nah I called a cab. Said they would be here in 15 minutes. Do you mind keeping me company?" Jack asked hopeful. Y/n smiled and gestured for him to get into the passenger seat and Jack obliged.

Jack settled into the seat looking over as he turned the car on so the heat would warm them up.

"I had a good time talking to you tonight. I hope I helped make your night a little better and it wasn't a total bust." Jack watched him smile.

"No it was a lot of fun. Thank you for keeping me company. I didn't get the bust I wanted but I'm also not leaving with a shit night either." Y/n wanted to kiss him so badly. He wanted to jump his bones but he would totally settle for a makeout. He didn't even care if Jack was into guys. His lips were so inviting and Y/n wanted to wrap his hand in those curls so badly.

Fuck it. He shot towards Jack to smash his lips into his own and Jack made a noise, startled and slightly in pain from hitting his teeth. Jack licked his lips watching him shift in his seat. Jack leaned away and brought his hand to his lips. Y/n instantly felt mortified.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I'm so sorry Jack-"

Jack reached towards him, reaching out to grip the back of his neck so that he could carefully and much more slowly bring Y/n towards his mouth. The kiss was softer, the slight taste of blood from the forceful kiss was on his tongue as it ran across his own and Y/n tried to hold in a moan. He was shaking and he knew Jack could feel how desperately he wanted more but Jack continued to kiss and suck his lips, his tongue, even his chin at some point before pulling back just enough to make eye contact.

"I know I said I wasn't going to get you black out drunk and get a blow job but-" Y/n reached for Jack's belt without a second thought and Jack stopped him.

"No no, I want to get my hands on you. Would you be okay with that?" Jack asked permission and Y/n was in shock. He was ready to throw everything he said earlier out the window and blow Jack's brain stupid but Jack wanted to touch him.

"We don't have to if you're-"

"No I just, I'm not usually the one who gets propositioned." Y/n chuckled nervously and Jack smiled.

"You're right, this town fucking sucks. Clearly everyone needs their eyes checked." Jack stroked the side of Y/n's face, running his finger under his lip. Y/n didn't know what to say. He just nodded his head and Jack returned the nod before resuming their kissing. Y/n let Jack's hands fumbled with the button on his jeans, cupping the bulge carefully, teasing his fingertips over the wet spot at the tip. Y/n let his hips jump towards his touch and could feel the smile against his lips. He pulled away from his mouth and spit in his hand which seemed far hotter than Y/n could have imagined but he didn't have time to get stuck on that because Jack's hand found his cock and he threw his head back.

"AH! Oh fuck." Y/n slammed his head against the head rest knowing that he hadn't felt someone touch him like this in a long time.

"You weren't kidding. What are these people doing to you beautiful boy?" Jack stroked Y/n's hair back while he free his cock so he could stroke its entire length. He held him with such pressure that Y/n knew that this wasn't going to last long.

"How does that feel? Does it feel as good as you look?" Jack's voice sounded like silk against his ear, licking his earlobe and focusing on the tip long enough for Y/n to moan.

"I-it feels so fucking good. Please don't stop, Jack." Y/n begged. He wanted to touch Jack, wanted to feel his cock too but he couldn't think. He could barely remember to breathe as Jack jerked his cock painfully slow, moving to suck little kisses on his neck just below his ear.

"You're so beautiful. Do you know how beautiful you are?" Jack pulled back to stare at Y/n's face but he kept his eyes shut tight. Jack picked up the pace of his hand and watched Y/n's jaw slag as he gripped the handle of the door.

"I'm going to cum. I'm sorry I'm-"

"Don't you dare apologize. I want you to cum. Will you please cum for me like a good boy?" Jack increased his sped once again and Y/n felt like he was seconds away from imploding.

"I want you to open your eyes when you cum. I want to see you looking at me, knowing I made you cum." Jack edged but Y/n knew if he opened his eyes, there was a huge chance he would cum in such an embarrassing fashion, he would melt into the seat with his cum and shame.

"I can't...I.." Before Jack could even argue, Y/n felt lips wrap around the tip of his cock and he was cumming hard into his mouth. His moans were so loud they reverberated off the roof of the car and he could feel them in the door as he bucked his hips just slightly as Jack sucked the cum down his throat, not wasting a single drop. When he pulled away, Y/n almost crumpled in on himself like his soul was just evacuated from his body and Jack wiped the little bit of cum from his bottom lip into his mouth.

Y/n watched Jack smile at him, pushing his hair away from his sweaty forehead and resting a hand on his cheek.

"I hope you got the bust you wanted." Jack smirked just as the cab rolled into the lot honking at them. Y/n was still trying to catch his breath but Jack reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He put a card on the dashboard and licked his lips.

"It's an old business card but my personal number is on the back. I'd love to get together again." Jack leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth before exiting the car and heading towards the cab. Y/n sat in shock, dick spent in his lap, heat blowing and the car stuck to his dashboard. When he was finally able to put himself back together, he peeled the card up and read the name on it.

"Jack Thurlow." He read the name outloud and tried not to think about how utterly fucked he was in every sense of the word.

[m4xedout]

A falter in our lives.

moonknight fic :)

Warning: mentions of blood needles and a small mention of smut, other then that it's all hurt/comfort and fluff at the end! any ways enjoy

Summary: you're home one night and your boyfriend decides to text you, it's not good..

paring: Marc x male!reader (later on steven and jake)

It was the middle of the night when you had gotten a text from Marc, telling you he'd be over in 20, you immediately go to clean up your room, before your boyfriend of 7 months, comes over for the first time in...damn..it's been a while huh..anyway-While you get that done Marc on the other hand was nearly limping to your apartment, 20 minutes away? Yeahhh a little more like 25-30, when 15 minutes were up, you were done cleaning your room, thinking it looked decent, and knowing it didn't have to look perfect, you flopped over on your queen sized bed and got on your phone, texting Marc.

Y/n:hey sweetheart, you almost here?

Marc:yeah just ran into some trouble.

Y/n:oh shit, TROUBLE trouble?

Marc:no no just don't worry about it, love you.

Y/n:love you too..

You worried for a bit before calling him 5 minutes after, no answer. You called again...No answer. You decide to walk out side of your apartment, and inside the elevator you thought to yourself..."it's Marc..maybe he's okay" when the elevator doors opened you could see your boyfriend in the doorway entering the lobby, with a gash on his left thigh, you rushed over to him "Marc!! Oh baby what happened!?" "Nothing-" "this doesn't look like nothing!" You rush him to the elevator covering his leg so no one would see, and in the elevator, he tried to start conversation, but you stayed silent

In your room you tossed him on the bed, on his right side of course "hey what gives?" He said across the room where you were searching for a needle and thread, hoping and praying they'd work to stitch him up, you came back to him "Pants. Off" "Y/n~ it's too late for th-" "MARC." He went silent.

He slowly striped of his pants throwing them on the floor and you quickly try to begin working on his leg, when suddenly, a choked sob comes the depths of your throat, its raspy, like if you held it for to long you might explode, "hey hey hey whats wrong?" Marc says, putting a hand on your cheek to tilt your head up so you can see him better, his eyes widen a little bit to see your red glossy eyes and a little snot dripping from your noes

"THIS is shit I should know about Marc, and you never tell me..do you not trust me?" His eyes got bigger and he quickly said "no no no no! It's not that! It's just..I have business that I can't involve you in" he slid his thumb over your eye, wiping the tear away, you begin stitching his thigh "agh!" "Sorry.." you say, you want to talk more but you don't, the room was filled with Marc's groans and him telling you to slow down, the neighbors were probably going to get confused by this-

Once you were finished you put everything away and washed your hands off, "hey..y/n?" You heard Marcs voice from the kitchen, you turned to see him standing in the hallway, on his right leg, "yeah?" A small sniffle came from you as you walked over to Marc, Placing a hand on his right side and helping him to the bedroom, "I'm sorry." You tense up for a bit before continuing to walk him to your bedroom.

Marc never usually...apologizes? But when he does, it's very sweet and comforting, you got to the bed as you laid him down and sat at the foot of the bed, "what for?.." you asked he sat up next to you "for not telling you about...this, and I'm sorry I never tell you sooner he said "you're my boyfriend for God's sakes..and i-" he was cut off my you kissing him directly on the lips, you pulled away "it's okay" you say, Marc was kinda surprised you forgave him that fast, "I know you're fine on your own, and if anything, this?" You point to his thigh "is just a scratch, but!" You say, shocking marc, "make me stitch you up again and I'll just give you straight up armor" you say making Marc chuckle, "thank you..for everything".

"No prob bob."

tbc?

AHHH OKAYSO THIS IS MY FIRST FIC EVER OMG I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! I write fem and gn reader too!sorry it was short but I hope you enjoyed!