#and if you already read and leave comments knwo that i love you like a member of my family at this point

[lottiecrabie]

rockstar girlfriend – matty healy

tired of being treated like the girlfriend and not like the rockstar, you decide to pull a very rock move in the studio

warnings: 18+, oral (male receiving), fingering, soft dom!matty, praise, bit of degradation, drug use

2696 words

The New York Times calls you ‘everyone’s favorite rockstar’s girlfriend’. Twitter fan accounts gather a curated four picture reel of your best candids and caption it ‘rockstar bf it girl gf’. E!News’ periodic articles updating the world on all your recent outings read ‘Matty Healy and his girlfriend’. (Matty Healy and his girlfriend enjoy a steamy kiss outside a club in Manchester. Matty Healy and his girlfriend spotted in New York City with Coppola Cafe to-go cups. Matty Healy and his girlfriend hold hands as they wait for the London underground.) MusicoCritics title their deep dive on you ‘Matty Healy’s girlfriend’s album is a surprising masterpiece’. 

Nevermind that it’s your fourth critically acclaimed album. Nevermind that your living room shelves ⁠— clustered with flower-pressed poetry books, esoteric trinkets found in thrift stores worldwide, potted plants on the edge of death ⁠— hold multiple well-earned awards. Nevermind that you’ve been singing for fifteen years, scribbling incoherent lyrics in the corner of books for longer than that. 

Nevermind that you’re a fucking rockstar yourself. 

You are Matty Healy’s girlfriend; you are the appendix of a musician. Your boyfriend’s name collects apostrophes while yours dust away, forgotten under aliases, rotting from underuse. 

And, well, you’re fucking pissed. An entire career, fifty-seven songs, countless of voice-killing concerts, and it pales to practical inexistence for a nine months relationship. 

Not that you don’t love Matty. It’s just⁠— You want to be more, you want to be whole.

You’re in your rented studio, sitting on the dirty couch, reading countless Reddit comments asking ‘who’s Matty’s gf’ and ‘i didn’t knwo she made music lol’, fuming. You should be working on your fifth album, the idea of a ballad lingering in a corner of your brain, but you are too busy driving yourself nearly insane. Injustice grips your guts, twists up around it. You want to scream.

Matty sits beside you, lighting up a joint. His hair is unmade, falling messily around his head. Smoke pours out of his lips. “Stop reading that bullshit,” he says, not unsmartly. 

Your lips purse. “I know, I know.” You groan, head falling on the back of the couch. “Fuck, I just can’t help it. This is actually fucking shitty.”

In an effort to distract you, or perhaps loosen you up, Matty passes you the joint. He has two rings, silver and chunky, and chipped nail polish. There is something incomprehensibly attractive about his hands, callused and masculine; long, dexterous fingers around waxed paper. Desire pools in your stomach. You lick your lips, looking away, taking a hit. 

“You should go crazy. Be a fucking cliche rockstar just in spite.” Matty grins. “Smoke a ton, do even more drugs. Destroy your voice. Show up late. Be too drunk to play.” 

You snort. “Fuck groupies.” 

“I might have something to say against that.” 

“Die young.” 

“You’re already past 27. You’ve lost your chance.” 

A smoky laugh leaves your lips. Still, you consider his words, cocking your head. An idea half-blooming somewhere in you. “I think you’re onto something.” 

“What?” 

“I should make a rock album,” you say. “Be super fucking obnoxious about it, too. Make all these references, interpolate all the greats.” You smirk, giving him a teasing glance. 

A curl of hair falls over his forehead. His Adam’s apple bobs as he takes a drag of his joint, cheeks digging it, brown eyes closing in ecstasy. He’s so fucking hot. You’d tell him if it wouldn’t go straight to his head, blow it up until he couldn’t fit through the door at all. 

Cheekily, you throw a leg over his legs, straddling his lap. He welcomes you easily, a lazy hand holding onto your hip. “I’ll be the rockstar. You can be my eye candy,” you continue, fingers hungrily climbing to his shoulders. 

“Is that so?” His fingers tighten, dragging you closer to him. Your hips roll over him with precision, clever hand working you at just the right angle. Your mouth parts, a strike of pleasure climbing up your spine. You stare at him through your eyelashes. He’s entirely too casual, too pleased. Cocky as he watches you, makes you rock your hips again. 

“Yeah,” you nod, breathless. 

You grind slowly, teasingly. As soon as you try to speed up, a powerful hand halts you. A puppet to a cruel man who smiles as you fail to get any real action going. The pace is torturous, lighting up your body until all parts of you are aware of him, of his hardening cock. You feel him most of all in the ache between your thighs, in the absence of him. 

Frustratingly, your hands dig in his shoulders, clawing at the cotton. It’s unfair how little he reacts, how put-together he seems in his white button-up shirt, watching you grow desperate. Brattily, you add, “Yeah, you’re almost pretty enough.” 

Matty laughs, but you can tell he’s a little peeved; overblown ego shot down with your cheeky smirk. He adventures a hand under your band tee, pinches your side, digs his nails into your back, encouraging your hips to rock faster with a rough, ruthless hand. Victory feels like a wave of toe-curling pleasure. Heat spreads under your skin, tightening your muscles. A small, self-indulgent whine leaves your mouth. 

A grin breaks his face, cocky and pleased. How quickly the upper hand slips from you. Huffing, desperate to wipe it off, you crash your lips against his, swiping it away with a greedy tongue. 

The kiss leaves you hungrier. Matty has always known how to coax the wanton need from you. How to leave you rocking furiously against him, hot and desperate, thoughtless except for the overwhelming need to get off. Throbbing and uncomfortably wet, a high-pitched moan slips into his mouth. 

You break away to pant in his parted lips. Your hands hide in the mess of his hair, tugging at the roots, vengeful, careless. Still, Matty groans, rolling his head backwards. You smile too, just as cheeky, just as proud. He puts out the dwindling joint on your sofa, throwing it thoughtlessly in the studio. Finally free, he slips under your shirt, grabbing a handful of your breast. 

You bury yourself in the side of his neck, licking and biting under his jaw. With expert fingers, you undo the buttons of his shirt until pearls of breathy, pained moans spill out of him. It sounds like a song, like the rhythm of your favorite melody. You’d bottle it up if you could, burn it on a CD to listen for later.

You sit up, spine straightening, practically ripping your mouth from him. The movement is so sudden you feel it reverberating in your head. Your hips still as thoughts spin in your soupy brain. Matty whines unhappily, hand digging in your back. 

It takes five seconds. Once the idea fully forms, you look back at him with a mischievous smile. You start your rolls again, tantalizingly slow. You whisper, half to him but more to yourself, “I’ll be the rockstar, alright.” 

Matty frowns. Out of breath, he says, “What?” 

You don’t bother explaining. Instead, you stand up, leaving another moan to fall from his lips.  Hands tumble from your shirt. Turning around to your mixing board, you hit the record button.   

He’s even more confused when you come back to him, standing between his open legs. You take your time, racking two hands through your sweaty hair. Towering over him, you feel power gather around you, a heady mixture leaving you wetter than before. 

You’re drunk on him, on the taste of weed and toothpaste, on the look of his thoroughly destroyed hair, of his red, swollen lips hanging onto your every possible word. His chest rises up and down in quick succession. A tempting tent in his slacks draws your eyes lower. 

You ignore the throb. You ignore the need. You ignore the coil of building tension. You say, “I’m gonna make you scream.” You fall to your knees. 

His legs widen, hips rising in excitement. “Fuck,” he groans just from the sight of you. Mesmerized, he watches in sacred silence as you work on his belt buckle. “Fuck, love, look at you.” 

Matty’s own hand helps at his pants, ring twinkling in the low light. Finally, you manage to free his cock, hard and up, begging. You stare at it for a second, appreciating its glory. Your eyes snap back to his. 

You follow every expression as it overwhelms his face when you first wrap your hand around it, allowing one slow stroke. His eyes close, his lips part, his head falls. He’s an atheist experiencing religion for the first time. He’s breathing your name, he’s worshiping it. 

You smile. Your lips wrap around his tip, sucking on it. His hips jump in surprise. Matty’s eyes snap open, staring at you with a gasp. Exactly what you wanted. 

“I want you to look at me,” you say, licking up his shaft. “Don’t stop looking at me.” 

You could tease him. A part of you wants to, hand burning to slow down. A bigger part of you wants to ruin him. 

You swallow him down. Matty’s breath comes out in heaving puffs amidst the scattered moans. You feel his thighs flex under your hands; his open shirt reveals a taut, tattooed stomach, muscles rippling with ecstasy. 

You bob up and down, an electric pace that has you swallowing back a gag. Whatever you can’t fit, you stroke with deft fingers, twisting your wrist just like he likes. Feeling particularly devilish, you moan around his length just to hear him mutter a pained, “Shit.” His hips rise, but you push him back pointedly. Payback is salty and lingers on your tongue. 

Feeling yourself choking, you release him, spitting on his dick to lube it up. Matty thrusts up in your hand, eyes rolling back until he remembers your order.  

You lick at his tip, swirling your tongue around it, before taking him back in your slick and swollen lips. “You’re so pretty,” Matty says, voice hoarse. “Fuck, you were made for this, weren’t you?” You moan in agreement. “Yeah, that’s right. Made to be drooling on your knees for me.” 

Perhaps embarrassingly, you feel a pool of arousal gather in your stomach from his words. Your thighs clench, hips rolling against nothing in hope of relieving that burning ache between them. Your clit feels criminally ignored. 

Matty’s hands fly to your hair, racking through the mess he’s made of it. “Show me your tits,” he orders. Your eyebrows shoot up, but he’s only peering down at you with challenge. 

Releasing him with a bop, saliva stringing from your lip to his dick, you take your shirt off. You can’t bother to unhook your bra, lowering the cups down and grabbing one of your nipples with your free hand. You pinch meanly, just like he would, and the pleasure spreading through you feels heavenly. A broken groan leaves your lips. “That’s it,” he breathes. “What a good girl, giving me a show.” 

You whine. You can feel the control slipping from your hands with every ticking second, but your thighs are so sticky, your clit so swollen, your climax so far. 

He gathers a handful of your hair, bringing you to his dick. Your head stings, but you welcome him back with an open mouth. This time, you do none of the work, letting him thrust himself in your throat. Your eyes water as he goes deeper. 

“Shhh,” he sighs as tears stain your cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re doing so good, baby.” You nod, coaxing a desperate groan out of him. “What a good, little slut. Taking my dick so well.” Again, you nod, mouth full. Your hips shift, moving left and right uncomfortably. You can’t seem to get any real friction going, but you feel your insides throb against nothing. 

“Poor baby,” Matty coos. “You want to come too?” Needy screams muffled by his cock. Matty sneaks his booted foot between your thighs, pressing so deliciously against your clit you cry out. “There you go, baby. Grind.” 

And so you do, furiously rocking against his boot. Your hand not busy playing with your nipples wraps around his leg, gripping his calf. The pleasure is so pure your eyes roll back in your skull. 

“Eyes on me,” Matty’s rough voice rings through the room. You open your eyes, locking with his darkened ones. “That’s right. I want you to look at me.” His face breaks with a victorious grin. Payback probably tastes like sweat and sweet moans to him. 

You can feel both of you grow frantic. Matty bucks into you with a merciless, frenzied pace. His hold onto your head is ruthless; his fingers dig into your scalp, but you only scream more. Your hips follow his rhythm, each leather drag over your cunt making sweet euphoria grip your stomach. 

“Gonna come for me?” He thrusts with abandon, practically choking you. Tension builds in your core, pussy clenching. “Gonna come all over my boot?” Bold words coming from a man just on the edge of an orgasm. 

To prove your point, you hollow your cheeks, watching with glee as cries break out of his throat, eyes scrunching tight, cum spilling out of him. You suck on his tip indulgently as he comes in your mouth, cock still pulsing while strings of incoherent promises fall out of him. He strokes your hair tenderly as he slowly comes to himself. 

Matty cracks an eye open. He falls out of your mouth and you swallow his seed, watching him as you promised as you lick your lips. Another rough moan leaves him, half stitled by a chuckle. Ringed finger swipes your chin, gathering a forgotten rope of cum he shoves back in your mouth. You suck on it. 

He seems to realize then you still haven’t come. Face grimacing in shame, he grabs you by the armpits, putting you back in his lap. “Poor baby. You’re so close, aren’t you?” 

“Please,” you whine. 

Matty pouts, nodding indulgently. “It’s okay. I got you.” 

He sneaks two fingers in your pants. You should be ashamed by the amount of wetness; sticking thighs greeting him home. You’re too gone for that, of course, just sighing happily as he rubs tight circles on your clit. 

Your head falls on his shoulder. “I know,” he says, imitating your spineless whine, thrusting two fingers inside of you. You’re so wet there’s not even any resistance, cunt opening to let him in easily. 

His thumb continues his drawings on your bundle of nerves. He fucks his fingers into you, rapid and wild. You’re close again before you have time finishing a coherent thought, moaning in his open mouth. 

“Right there,” Matty encourages. “Come for me.” 

Your body shudders as you scream. You finally lose the tyrannical strings holding your body together. Euphoria spreads to each limb, making your head fall back as the edges of the world blur around you. Tension leaves your body in wiping waves. You flutter around his fingers, clenching and unclenching as you cry out his name. 

It takes you a few moments to come back to Earth. Matty takes his fingers out of you, wiping the wetness on the couch. You slap at his shoulders, but he simply laughs. “I love you,” he whispers in your hair, bending down to kiss you. 

When you finally regain control of your legs, you stand up to reach your mixing board. Hitting pause, and then play, Matty’s needy groans fill the studio. You throw him a look over your shoulder, but not even a pornographic recording of him could make Matty Healy blush. 

And, maybe your fifth album features a song named Blow You. Maybe deep, masculine sounds of pleasure accompany the chorus ⁠— just out of reach enough for people to be incapable of pinning it down. Maybe countless news outlets try to figure out, articles upon articles attempting to elucidate if it really is your boyfriend, Matty Healy, moaning on the track. Maybe they call you by your name. Maybe they even call you a genderbending, masterful, classic rockstar. 

[gracetrack-higgins]

who’s ready for grace to self promo herself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so i spend way too much time writing a very extra Newsies College AU and everyone should read it even though it’s not javid i’m sorry

i put a groupchat section in the latest chapter and I am TOO PROUD OF IT

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12942132/chapters/29580045

also feel free to talk to me abt it because it’s a Ride and I am always open to suggestions about it

[meandmystuffs]

Theory of Love Ep6 Spoiler/ Review/ Comment (Thai BL Drama) 😤😤😤

I first watched this episode without taking any notes and I was too upset.

Then I re-watched it and hurt myself again so you better read this until the end. 🤨

1. I said this on my review on ep5 before, P'Bone, you will get hurt. 😭 Why won't you listen to me! That shocked face tho. 😢

2. Product promotion is really high on this drama huh? I'm not totally hating it but picking a gift for the girl of someone you like? Bruh. That hurts like crazy.

And don't get me started with thank you gifts. Third's the type that will help you without asking something in return. And what's with that deep meaning over a slate? Third please, don't get swayed over that. 🙄

3. I feel so upset right now I can't fangirl more over P'Un. 😩

4. You kiding me!? Khai is drunk and it's not even his birhday. 😒

5. Am I supposed to be happy over that unwanted kiss?? 🤬 Really Khai??? I am so frusrtated right now, I tearing up. 😤😢 Back off from my baby you bastard!!! 😡

6. Praew, girl. I don't wanna hate you but please stop hanging out with that boyfriend of yours. He's a jerk. This for your own good. Believe me. 🙂

7. This is the most painful I Love You I ever saw, ever. 😭😭😭 And Third did not deserved to say it this way. 😭😭😭 And Khai do not deserve to hear this ever. 😤

8. Shut up Paan! You are also making me upset. 😒I'm also dissapointed in you. Just leave Bone alone from now on if you cannot seperate personal from professional relationship. 🙄

9. And that cola scene! Again, that will taste sooo bland! 😋

10. I'm very happy to see Third out of Khai's shadows. Just do what makes you happy baby. We're totally gonna support you.😁 Except if its related to Khai then we're out.😤

11. The way Third's expression changed. From😊 to 😞 when he saw them in the library. 😭

12. So, they will be creating a movie out of Third's miserables love life??? Shane bruh. Why you do this??? 😢

13. Look how happy Third is without Khai on his side. I really hope this phase will continue postively so that my baby won't suffer anymore. 🤗

14. And Khai looking so miserable is like a breath of fresh air. You know you deserved it so much bruh. And it's not even enough. 👏😁

15. And here is Khai with his self-pity. I'm not falling for this bruh. And I hope Third too cause you knwo how soft he is when it comes to Khai. Please Third! Hold yourself together. 😟

16. I knew it! Khai saw that video!!! 😱😱😱

17. *exhales calmly as possible*

First of all, fck you Khai for the nth time! Damn you. Never met anyone as fcked up as you. Watching a private video? That's invation of privacy. I can toally sue you with that.

Secondly, you're just a fcking coward.😤 Third's really tried his best around you from the start, supported you even though is hurting and you just shamelessly did that without confronting him. Did you really think he deserves to be treated like this!? Lied again like this? 😤 And using a girl to shield yourself from your own cowardice? Really?? Shame on you you bastard! 😤

Ugh! I just wanna explode!!! 😡😡😡

18. And you know what, maybe they were using Un and Two to redeem this episode and I can totally agree that they're doing it right. These two are the only reason I survived this episode. The way their getting chummy? More of that please.

--------------------------------------------------

I'm relatively new to bl drama (just started around December of last year). I already finished a few dramas and I swear I have never encounter a character as frustating and damning as Khai's.

Kudos to all the people behind this drama, especially Off and Gun. I'm prasing you two now. 😁 You too Off. 😂 You guys did really well. You made me feel this way and I think it's okay to be this frustrared every once in a while. Lols.

If I met a Khai in real life, bruh, I know what I'm gonna do. I will do all the things I been keeping inside when I'm seeing this Khai (in the bl world). 😤

I'm just half-way and I think my energy is super drained already. Hahaha. 😂

That's all folks. Sorry for my rantings here. See you on the next episode!

[inthisfire-ifindrain]

Till death...

under a read more due to length very angsty and triggers galore, 

Hector kills Vulpes and Fiona gets her revenge. it started out a drabble and turned into a full damn story.

@ratherxintense

Staring at the door she sat quietly,two weeks. Hes been gone two weeks, he promised three days. She sat in panic wondering if she needs to leave. Fighting with herself telling herself she should have went after him days ago. It wasn't right and she felt it. No letter brought by a man saying he would be later the planned. Nothing. Just scilence. Feeling her heart beat pounding away in her chest she got up quickly and ran up the stairs to their bedroom. "I should habe left a week ago." Speaking to the emptyness, She changing her clothes quickly and packing her bag hastily for anything she may need if he was in trouble put on her boots and ran out the door not even noticing that she had left it wide open in her hurry.

It took a days time to find out the area he was last in. Question wastelanders on a blue eyed blond hair handsome man by the name of Ivan Fox. Every question every encounter terrified her. Changing her story each time deciding that telling them she is his wife and hes missing wouldnt be a good idea incase he has been with a new contact. She cringed and her stomach turned each time that thought came creeping up. "I'm his sister unfortunately our mom has passed away and i need him to come home." A lie she stuck with decently well. Until she came upon one group of raiders outside some shitty bar. They mostly laughed at her but did inform her that a friend of theirs dragged someone off by that description they couldnt tell her the mans name. "What is your friends name?" She said sternly being met again with laughter and a comment of.

"Hector. You best bet to stay away small woman." Hearing that her face had lost color, there must be no mistake. She remembers a few years back Vulpes came home fucked up and terrified of a man named Hector. It had scared her to see him afraid of anything much less a man. "I will do as i please now which way is this Hector..." The sweetness in her voice had disapeared,the darnkness in her eyes shown as she spoke. The three raiders quieted down noticing the change in the small woman in front of them. Pointing and telling her the general direction of his place they didn't worry. Once she had gathered all the information she needed she took her blade out, killing all three unsuspecting raiders they were close together and she had managed to end them before they had a chance to defend themselves. After all she couldn't leave a witness she had a grave idea of what she was dealing with now and knew this was not going to end well.

Following the direction they gave her head spinning the whole way, feeling that its too late that its her fault, this is why she needed to leave sooner. Two weeks. Could Hector have him this long and he still be alive? The growing pain in her stomach starting to get stronger as she forces herself to not be sick. It wasnt long before she approached a building with what looked like minimal lighting. The sun was setting so she hid, but hid close enough to see a figure moving around. Fiona watched and waited it felt like hours and maybe it had been. But the figure stepped out and she got a decent look at his face. "Hector" , she mumbled as the man looked how Vulpes had described him to be. He left off some where she could care less about after only waiting ten minutes, when he was good and out of view she crept in an open window.

Standing in his home she looked around, the place was disgusting. Blood, carnage, body parts from what she could make out. Covering her mouth she gaged before noticing something shining in the corner. Approaching she also saw legion clothing.. And his Vexillarius hat.. "No no no no" she spoke out loud in a panic as she ran twards it. Dropping to her knees she knew.. It was him.. It was... Him. Non recognizable, almost as if he was never a human at all. Shakingly she reached out to what was part of his hand the gleam she had initially saw. His wedding ring, further setting in it was him. She stood up and vomited in the near by sink before breaking into tears and sliding back down to the floor, crawling back to what remained of her husband, her owner. Fiona gently put her hands on his holding it but not moving it as if it would melt and be gone too.

She cried over him for as long as she could her body shaking in heart break and anger. Gently she took his ring off and put it in her bag along with his hat. Moving his hat made her scream, causing her to see more of what was his face tears coming down harder making her vision blurry, almost censoring the image herself. Next to him was more of his things, among them one of her red scarfs that he took and always carried when he was away.

Taking his hat over to the sink she washed it off. Not very well but well enough to put it in her bag. She wasn't alright. And this was not the end. She couldn't bury him. She couldn't take to much , and make it noticeable someone was messing with the body or inside hectors house. Hesitating to leave she stood at the window and looked back at him."I love you.. Mea anima.." She spoke quietly words he had always spoke to her. She turned and left out the window she had came in.

Watching, waiting, ploting. Days and nights on end. Days passing, turning into weeks. She was going to do this right and she was going to kill him. Stalking Hector took longer then she initially thought it would to get his patterns down, his behaviors, his drinks. By the time she had formulated a plan a few weeks had passed. Watching outside his window or a rock, he never noticed the small woman, after all her proficiency in sneaking about was one of her greatest abilities. When it got dark out and she was confident in his movements she would creep between windows watching him. Watching how he murders. Their screams for help falling on deaf ears for she was not their to be their savoir. The one she had cared about was gone. And Hectors destruction was the only thing on her mind. Leaving his place temporarily to get what she needed for her plot, drugs of almost all kinds along with a good healthy supply of med x and the basic stempacks. But enough drugs to know the monster out was her goal.

He had left and now was her plan in motion she snuck in. Several bags of drugs crushed and ready to be put in every bottle of alcohol he had she started in. Setting it up. Making sure she had enough rope and that his own killing table would be ready for him. Leaving this time she waited on his roof.. Hours passed before she saw him walk alone into his home. Perfect she thought to herself, No need to get rid of a victim. Climbing down she watched threw a window. Watched as Hector downed his own poison. About an hour past the beast fell to the floor not even making it to the couch by now he must knwo something isnt right. Fiona acted quickly not knowing how long she had before he wakes. Practically jumping through the window she threw her bag down grabbed her rope and tied the large mans hands and legs together. He was home and had already stripped himself of heavy armor for that she was greatful. It was feat getting him upon the table but using the rope and a little extra strength she was able too and tied him down with rope and the tables leather straps everything tight, she could see his hands changing color, no chances of him escaping or getting ahold of her.

Hector came around in just a hour the drugs wearing off. He fought at the restraints she quickly injected something into his neck causing him to almost lose consciousness again. Slapping his face she spoke. "Hey hey there!" Her voice was erratic sounding as she continued his eyes looking at her in confusion. "Don't, don't fight it. . it is over for you..you know. You must know.. Countless people you must have killed here..." She glanced over to the corner. As Hector noticed where she was glancing. "Before you open your disgusting mouth yes... You killed my husband. Vulpes.. " her cheeks turned red as her eyes started watering and bluring. Taking her hand she wiped her at her eyes concentrating back onto what she was doing. She could see a smile creep up on Hectors face.

Screaming at him as he began to tell her the awful things ans grosome things he had done to Vulpes. Quickly she took a rag and shoved it in his mouth nearly down his throat. "You Don't get to fucking talk!!" She screamed at him,already having a set plan she didn't want to hear this and didn't want to stray from the path. Crying she took a blade from his weaponry and started cutting away at him. His screams muffled from the wrag. Showing him each part of him she cut off of him, keeping him alive with med x and a stim pack here and there. "Don't want you to bleed out just yet now do we?" Her voice low almost a whisper. It went on for what seemed like hours, days? A day? Keeping it slow and keeping him alive. Taking breaks herself she would stop and sit on the couch and stare off into the corner letting time pass. Unmoving, almoat as if she was a statue. Then back at it again. Him in agonizing pain eventually she got all his limbs off in a gory mess on her and on the floor parts of him almost scattered everywhere arms legs fingers foot. But she kept him alive through it all, with the drugs of the wasteland. Stopping everytime shock had made him pass out. Eventually there was no more to cut off and he had spit out the rag at this point. Her over on the couch once again staring off. He speaks "I wonder if i have found someone the same as me.." He was speaking but was speaking as if delirious not directly to her.

It broke her gaze into nothing as she shook her head as if coming back into this world. "I'm not the same as you.. I'm fucking better then you." Standing up she went over to Vulpes corpse and grabbed his ripper slowly running her hand along the side of the blade. "Its time to end this. Its time for you to die Hector." Walking over to him she put the blade onto his neck, not turning it on she slowly sawed away at him until he head was completely severed. Grabbing his head she put it on a spike outside in front of the building before going back in. Gathering everything she needed she stumbled upon holotapes. One had Vulpes name on it she grabed it and put it in her bag, she had also found his ear in Hectors sick collection. She wrapped it in a red cloth and stored that away as well before walking to the corner of the room. She took the scarf he had carried with him and covered his remains with it, kissing her fingers and pressing it to the cloth. She walked out of Hectors home with no peace in her heart and no where to go but home.

She didn't stay at their home very long, it was a wreck by the time she got there. Animals all gotten to the food. Things everywhere. Walking straight upstairs she grabbed extra clothing but not hers, their wedding holotape from when they took a vacation and got secretly married at Jacobstown. She held it close before packing it away too. As she walked out she paused at the second bedroom next to theirs, glancing in it toys and teady bears. A dream she nagged him of that will never happen, his promise unintentionally broken. She closed the door and continued walking.

Not sure where she ended up . some home . some strange land. She got rid of anyone in her way until She found this one room shack, already frail from not eating, she looked sick and emaciated, opening the door she found it acceptable. Spending her nights playing his voice on their wedding holotape, hearing his voice speaking their vows helped lul her to sleep when her tears dried. Until one night she played Hectors tape. His screams, his sorrys to who she could only assume her. Hectors laugh, the laugh got to her. Everything had gotten to her she could no longer take this only a few months had passed sense he died and she couldn't continue. She put his ring on her finger next to the one he had givin her on their wedding day. Curled up on the old bed crying she took her finger, her nail still pointed and sharp with the metal underneath she glided it down her arm, and then again on her other arm. The red of her blood begging to run down her arm onto the bed at a fast pace she closed her eyes and held his hat tightly the fur of it touching her face as she closed her eyes and welcomed the deep sleep that eventually over came her, her heart coming to a stop. Fiona becoming one of the sad mysteries of the wasteland for anyone who stumbles upon her.

[wanttobethinlol]

What i wrote while having a breakdown

I could cry. I could fucking break someones bones! I’m angry and I think I have a good reason to be angry.

I feel like shit and I don’t know why. I just don’t know what I did wrong in my life! Maybe I did actually did something wrong and I just can’t find out what. I’m actually proud of all my decisions. I like who I am and what i have done. Yeah, I knwo, everyone has things so complain about in their lifes. But everyone is different. I appreciate what i have and what has happened to me. I’m still a human und humans always find new things to complain about. Oh, did i offended you because you’re a human? Sure, every human can be like me. Everyone has felt some kind of pain before. Everyone at least once in their life. Everyone felt something...

I’m so sick of keeping all that to myself! Yes, I am hurt. I am angry and sad. But why the fuck do I feel like this? I didnt chose to feel this. In times like those u actually realize what it means to be happy. But we are unappreciative as fuck and we know NOTHING! We only care about ourselves! Why don’t I just pretend like I don’t know this by distraction like everyone does and constantly tell everyone to do this when they don’t feel good? People believed it. I was trying to play it off. I watched Youtube videos of a guy saying “Everyting will get better” and then people in the comments were saying “He saved my life”. I’m just thinking “Yeah, sure. Cuz u want to believe that someone who doesn’t even knows ur personality can save someones life. Anyways killing yourself is ur decision and this person wasn’t standing by the bridge begging u not to jump!”

Someone is going to say that I have no idea what I am even talking about and I’m not the right person to talk big. Someone will say that I’m always the one who wants all the attention and I lie and I’m a drama queen. “Noone likes u and noone wants to know what u think! U have no real friends cuz u’re annoying and weird.” Why do people matter wheather I have friend or not!? And there are people who don’t think I’m annoying, people who actually think I’m cool. Just cuz u’re having a problem with me does not mean u have to act like this. I didn’t piss in ur drink, I’m not ur ex which cheated on u. I’m not ur enemy and u aren’t mine either! I’m not someone to just look at. I have hobbies and interests. But I’m sorry that I can’t press a button and be interested in what u’re into. I’m sorry for not being the way u want me to be. I’m sorry for being wrong in ur world! I’m even sorry for my emotions sometimes.

I only know three things: work, sleep and eat. Kinda sad, huh? But this is what life is about. I don’t have time for feelings anymore. I sit in class and want to scream, cry and ripp the paper. But I have to sit in silence. If I can’t write an analysis of a stups text I’m worthless, right? People just feel good after a successfull day at work. “But isn’t it actually a good thing that they found a job they think is making them happy?” - I don’t know. Why is life even being a good worker or letting the species survive? “If someone does not work well, they are bad members of society. If someone decides not to have kids or only have their own kids they are selfish, why don’t they just adopt?” It seems to me that no matter what u do, someone will complain as if it was their damn life and their decision. Why can’t everyone just live their life as they desire!? My god!

“You’re only a teenager. What do you know about life?” - I am sorry ok? I can’t say anything without someone taking it the wrong way! Why do we even divide between right and wrong? Why do we even divide anything? It already starts at young age. It seems to matter what we look like. Looks are everything. Noone will say it out loud but it is the truth. Everything has it’s name and place to belong to. What went wrong? Why did it come so far? “Real heroes don’t exist.” (I’m not going to say who said this) That would leave someone else thinking “how does this person deserve this?” I don’t want this. I don’t need intelligent quotes to prove that I’m intelligent. I don’t need to look like a nerd to be smart. I don’t have to read to prove to others that I’m smart. I don’t care what the most people think. Things such as intelligence, health, love kindness are just marterial of interpretation. I don’t need MakeUp to feel beautiful. I don’t need the latest fashion so others think I’m “cool” because I don’t want to be judged by my appereance cuz I don’t mind it myself that much so why do others? “They are insecure about themself.” Oh, of course. But what the hell has that got to do with me? And is not everyone these days insecure deep inside? Everyone has a different way to deal with their problems.

I can’t know what they feel. Sometimes I don’t know what i feel myself!! We are told that if u have a different opinion, it’s wrong. u aren’t allowed to laugh loudly i public because the people will look a u weirdly and crying in public means u’re a crybaby. Oh, i forgot, showing strong emotions is wrong and inappropiate. Let’s just play it off and pretend like everything is fine and the world is a paradise and war isn’t real. I don’t need to pretend that. I show most of my feelings. I express my opinion. I can listen and admire my thoughts or u can ignore it. I DON’T CARE. None of those will get me ahead. I don’t need anyones fake friendship so I can show others that this person is my friend.

I don’t need some flowers or chocolate from a boy to feel loved. I understand that this person just want to show me that they care about me and that they would buy me expensive things. But I don’t need chocolate and flowers. Chocolate is there to be eaten and flowers are not there to be picked. I don’t need that chocolate. I get three meals a day. I don’t need flowers to watch as they die away. The only gift I want is time. I mean I didn’t decide to became your girlfriend, just to say that I’m in a relationship. I don’t need to shout it out to the world cuz I don’t care what others will say. I just want to spend time with u. Time is a thing u only have a certain amount of und u decide how u want to spend or waste it.

U expect me to be into boys, didn’t u? I know why. Because being straight is normal. No one will ask for my sexuality because I look straight. I’m not. Why do u have to assume that? Stereotypes, am I right? U disgust me! Just because someone looks or behaves a bit gay does not mean he/she has to be gay. And don’t force anyone to out themself. (not that an outing is necessary either) I won’t tell people what to think and what not to say cuz that would be as it was in the past, just the other way around. I actually thought these times were over. I can’t fix it. I don’t think anyone can.

Our world isn’t perfect, was never perfect and will never be perfect. This should be accepted... or maybe the world is perfect the way it is right now and we arte the ones who do all the shit. Without us war, issues, society and tools wouldn’t be exist. Character trails are illusions. People compare themself to others. I was always told that this is a bad thing to do. I was told that comparing yourself to others is dumb and useless. Yes, u’re right. The human race has come so far with evolution but with higher IQs we discover new problems in our lifes. What I mean? “The WiFi is down!”, “My parents didn’t bought me the new iPhone!” -Oh no! You’re going to die because of that, right? At first those problems don’t seem pretty bad. Some people in other countrys... WAIT. Here we go again in the whole “comparing yourself to others” thing.

Who am I even to say those things? I am just some human who knows as much about life as everyone else. I honestly have no idea what I’m doing and what the future may bring. I’m not that different. I have all these problems everyone has and noone, not even I myself, is going to care about them about them in a few years. It won’t matter who “broke my heart so I can’t live anymore” -threats can’t be broken and love always will be reborn. Still love can be a strong feeling. It can make u feel high or hurt. Sadly, we don’t decide which one of both of them we feel. There is no wrong way to feel. I wish people would be more honest with what they feel and think. It’s nice to hear a simple “Thank u” or “I like u” at least once in ur life. People seem to be a bit to proud to admit what they feel sometimes, they only realize a person when he/she is gone. Yeah, it can hurt pretty bad if your crush doesn’t likes u the same way but this is not the end od the world, it just feels like it.