#i missed drawing my beautiful princess with a disorder | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shiftingfornoct · 2 years ago

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shifting script:

full name: sibele nox lucem

nickname: LILIE!! ,princess , sweetheart, pumpkin, darlin, honey sugar CUPCAKE beautiful muffin cutie patootie doll buttercupp sparkle sunshine kittie OK ENOUGH BUT UGETIT

gender: cis female

pronouns: she/her 💌

age: 9teen

bday: march 29th !!

race: white

ethnicity: half european ,,native american

height: 5'2 , 1,58cm

weight: 37kg

languages: english , brazilian portuguese, french, korean, japanese n russian !!

accent: american

money status: infinite muney (*´ω｀*

wardrobe: infinite !! every fit / clothes i desire will appear

physical appearance :

face shape: oval

eye color n shape: brown glints of yellow, almond -shaped

eyelashes: 3d , long and doll-like (> ω <

lips n cupid's bow: cinnamon roll-ish thin, rosy pink lips

teeth: perfect, healthy n well aligned teeth (!!! lil' gap in the upper center) NO gingivitis, tartar, periodontitis, cavities, wisdom teeth, pain etc

nose: petite , smol nose . little hint of redness on tip

jawline: well-structured, firm n defined

eyebrow shape: neat , plucked and well trimed . almost straight , slight arch in the brow tail

nails: curved , moisturized full mani-pedi n everything .

foot size: 36 aka 5.5

body: angelic n smooth neck , smol , feminine shoulders . thin and dainty upper / lower arms, tiny firm shaped waist, almost as if fairy-like . flat stomach, slim and rounded hips (!!hips are wider than waist , but SLIGHTLY), sexy thighs with thigh gap n well toned, delicate long legs .

scent: 🍓 , miss dior n designer perfumes

hair colour / length: warm n sunkissed light brown , chest length smells like strawberries

hair texture: 2b , wavy but sometimes i can straighten it with a flat iron

hair style: layered w thin bangs , vry cute

body hair: NO BODY HAIR!!! (!!!except lashes , hair n brows)

breasts: smol to medium sized , perky and sexy

skin tone: white but slightlyy tanned

acessories: lotssss of girly stuff , hair bows, dainty jewelry, pearls, PINK . frilly n heart socks , designer purses.

personality :

sexual orientation: bi

positive personality traits: creative, kind, hardworking, smart, logic, mature, independent, childish etc

negative personality traits: quiet, impatient, insecure, people pleaser, introverted, shy etc

turn ons: noct

turn offs: not noct

likes: plushies , fashion, makeup, hobbies etc

dislikes: toxic ppl, sex*ual topics / themes , imagery, being or feeling alone

favourite meal: pancakes (✿^‿^

favourite colour: yellow, pink , cream n baby blue

clothing style: coquette , dolette messy french girl , it girl n girly

hobbies / talents: singinggg , dancing, writing, drawing, studying ,journaling n cleaning

personality type: infp

star sign: aries

nervous ticks: biting nails n peeling skin of fingers

relationships and love life :

friends: iris n luna

best friends: noct ,iggy gladdy n prompto

siblings: none! !

father: cassius

mother: diana

crush: NOCT.

past romantic relationships: none .

future romantic relationship(s): noct

physical and mental health :

blood type: O- (universal donor)

allergies: none .

mental health: stable , but prone to getting worse if there r any triggers

disabilities & disorders: none .

mental illnesses: borderline personality disorder, anxiety, agoraphobia, body dysmorphic disorder , an0r3x1a

physical health: extremely perfect physical health , NO HEALTH COMPLICATIONS OR DISEASES . NOTHING!!!!!!

personal history :

backstory: http://txti.es/8jp2l

birthplace: tenebrae

current residence: insomnia

powers: http://txti.es/esxxx

EXTRAS :

safeword: bibbidi-bobbidi-boo

BASIC DR SETTINGS :

✿always smell good

✿cant get pregnant until/unless i really want to

✿always have money

✿don't get my period

✿clear skin

✿don't have skin imperfections/diseases like wrinkles, fine lines, acne, melasma, flakiness etc

✿endless closet

✿anything i’d want is in there

✿all my clothes fit perfectly/the way i like

✿always have good hygiene

✿immortal (can never die in DR)

✿can only feel moderate/slight pain

✿immune to any illnesses and mental illnesses unless specified

✿semi-fast/fast metabolism

✿walk and run easily, wont get tired and worn out quickly

✿cant get too badly injured/hurt

✿know how to fight

✿wont experience any major trauma

✿everyone understands my humour

✿will have my/a phone

✿for every year that pass in my cr, six months pass in my dr

✿TIME FREEZES WHEN I LEAVE AND RESUMES WHEN I COME BACK!!!!

✿i will remember everything!!

✿i know every combat style of fighting

✿i know how to use every weapon

✿im a pretty crier

✿im a pretty sleeper

✿im confident

✿i have a high endurance

✿i have good communication skills

✿i don't have motion sickness

✿i have an attractive voice

✿i have no gag reflex

✿i never get left out

✿i can play all instruments

✿i don't have a double chin

✿i have amazing handwriting

✿i can come up with the smartest insults and comebacks

✿my lips never get chapped

✿drugs dont have a negative affect on me, they only affect me in a sense of euphoria

✿all food tastes good

✿everyone finds me attractive

✿my friends and loved ones cannot die as a result of violence, injury, or illness

✿i always have perfect posture

✿i have fast reflexes

✿i do not have any unwanted body hair or odor n do not fart, sweat burp etc

✿selfies and pictures taken of me always turn out how I want them to

✿if someone lies to me, my nose itches and i recognize this as a sign that they are lying

✿i have the lifa app

✿anything i order from the lifa app will be immediately delivered to my wardrobe

✿no one can see my lifa app interface but me; if someone looks at my phone while i'm on the app, to them it will look like i am on google or facebook

✿no one gets tired of me

✿everyone tries to help and support me and they like doing it

✿my friends, family, and romantic interests are always loyal to me

✿any feelings of attraction that i have are always reciprocated

✿i will never be cheated on or betrayed in a relationship

✿my partner will never be physically or psychologically abusive or toxic

✿my partner will always be loyal to me and pay attention only to me

✿my partner will not fantasize of other women or consume things like that (!!!!ex : p0rn0gr4ph1)

✿noct doesnt die saving the world

✿when the wind blows, my hair flows perfectly

✿i don't get things stuck in your teeth

✿there are no racism, transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia, life threatening sicknesses, air water or land pollution, natural disasters, global warming, covid 19, cultural appropriation, stalkers, non consensual filming, r*pe, sexual harassment, misogyny, sexism, misandry, p3dophilia, trauma, animal abuse, abuse in general

✿my hair is soft and never tangles

✿my phone has unlimited data

✿animals like me

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1zashreena1 · 4 years ago

Text

Trading Trauma -13

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: They share the rough stuff while trying to figure out how to be gentle with each other. And an antagonist?

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Detailed discussion of abuse in all forms- Physical-Mental-Emotional-Verbal*** SERIOSULY HEED THIS WARNING Anxiety attacks, vague hinting at mental-behavioral health disorders, plus size woman+fit man, This one is all feels and

I Am So Sorry.

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic @symbiont13 @nicke0115 @bunnykjm @rosee-sensuelle @girlpornparadise @mandoplease @heresathreebee @xxsteph-enrixx @jetiikad @joalsglasses @mutantcookiesecrets @demoncatstone @squidlywiddly87 @lockedoutofmyotherblog @poeedamerons

I believe gif came from @girlpornparadise

Its a Friday like any other and Bastian picks you up like always. Only, something is wrong. You can tell because Bastian is silent; absolutely, completely, dead silent.

"So," You try from the passenger seat, "What the fuck is going on that you don't want to tell me?" Its raining and everything in New York is shaded in tones of gray. The gray buildings pass by, people in gray coats with gray umbrellas trudge along the sidewalk, even this SUV is gray. It still has new car smell. What happened that he bought a new SUV?

A muscle tics in Bastian's jaw as he tenses under your attention. Pale green eyes dart to you, then back to the road. Finally, Bastian speaks, "Alicia was here today."

Your jaw drops. "What? Why? Is he okay?" Your immediate concern is Diego, both his physical safety and his mental well-being. Bastian's silence is an obvious negative. After staring at him for an indeterminate amount of time and receiving no further details you go back to the windshield. "We can order food later, just take me to him."

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

Diego is stationed on the sectional when you arrive, working on his laptop. Bastian places your bag just inside the penthouse then retreats back into the elevator. That's never a good sign.

Diego looks up and smiles, its blindingly gorgeous and your heart stutters. The laptop gets dumped to the side in favor of grabby hands going for your curves. You climb into his lap, knees outside his hips, loop your arms around his neck, and fold him down into your softness. With a huge sigh, Diego melts into you.

"Princess. Missed you." His rumble is soft and quiet against your neck. He wraps you up tighter and squeezes your squishy middle. "Stay. Please." What started as an order ended as a plea in under two words.

You stroke over his hair, kissing his forehead and nodding gently. "I'm here, baby. Are you okay?" The likelihood of getting a straight answer is slim but you have to ask. You need him to know that you care, that you want to take care of him.

He nods into your neck and settles further. Apparently this is where I sit now. His breathing is normal, he doesn't flinch or jump wherever you pet him, and his clothing is in place. As far as you can tell, he is physically well. The only thing out of place here is his hidden face.

He is surprisingly cuddly in private, your Murder Panther rather enjoys petting, but he has never hidden from you. Its concerning, especially in conjunction with Bastian's hushed announcement in the car.

"What do you need me to do?" You keep your voice even and quiet because you're not sure how upset he really is. Broad shoulders shrug under you, he seems almost defeated. You try a different tact and ask, "Okay, when did you last eat?"

"Dish mornin." Diego mumbles into your skin like a kid. In truth, he is like a large child a lot of the time. He gets easily distracted by activity and is frequently lost in whatever task happens to be most interesting to him at that exact moment. He fidgets minutely under you, a tiny bit of his normal reaction to your presence is evident.

You turn to smirk into his cheek, "I meant food, but if that's what you need, well, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make." His deep chuckle shakes your entire body. "Where's my phone? Lemme order dinner before you go after dessert."

Diego pulls your phone out of the back pocket of your jeggings and passes it to you, then replaces it with a huge hand. You laugh but proceed to order from that steakhouse you like in Brooklyn.

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

By the time dinner has been completed Diego is relaxed and loose-limbed, sprawled on his back across your lap in the corner of the sectional. He is still quiet, but if you keep both hands on your tablet a little too long he makes his displeasure known with a growly whine. You’ve been absent-mindedly petting him for some time when you decide to try again.

"So, can I do anything to help you? Listen? Massage? Cuddle? Err, cuddle more intensely?" You don't look at him in an attempt to not make him uncomfortable.

Diego heaves a sigh and holds your hand flat to his chest. You can feel his heart, its picking up speed and you feel a little guilty. He licks his lips and finally speaks, "Alicia was waiting for me when we came back from a meeting this morning. She has been questioning my books. I suppose she doubts my math." Diego waves a dismissive hand in the air.

You have seen this man complete statistical mathematical analysis in his head, everyone knows his math isn't a problem.

"Um. First of all, no. Secondly, n-o-o-o." You draw the word out in your sarcasm and Diego snorts with amusement. "Why do you think she was really here?" You ask soberly.

"It is the math. I need to redistribute my surplus. What is that saying? Use it or lose it?" Diego looks up at you from under raised brows, waiting for you to confirm or correct his language.

That is fucking adorable. Your chest tightens with his easy familiarity with you and his trust that you have his back in all things, even something as small as a possible mistranslation. You nod in confirmation, but also need some clarification. "So, help me understand here, you have a surplus of what? Profit?"

Diego nods succinctly. "Technically, it is a deficit of expenses. However, the expenses are paid out of the profits, so I simply hadn't moved the profit surplus into the expense account, which would have highlighted the cost deficit. I attempted to not draw any undue attention to it, but that failed. I must find somewhere to funnel the excess money that would not arouse suspicion."

It takes you a minute to process that whole thing. Diego watches you mentally work through it with amused patience. You now have more questions than answers. "Okay, wait. Rewind further back. Why do you have extra money? Are you not spending as much?" What is happening?

"It is two folds," Diego holds up a hand with one finger raised, you don't bother correcting him this time, "I am not consuming my own product, therefore selling more and netting more profits." He raises a second finger and continues, "I am spending substantially less on incidental costs. Not so many bottles or strippers or whatever. So saving more."

He stares at his own raised fingers in bemusement before muttering thoughtfully, "Julio always led me to believe that women are expensive to keep but you have been saving me money. Hmm." He glances up at you with a small smile, tentative and cautious, so very not Diego-like.

Your shrug is exaggerated, but your flush is not. "Glad I could help? I mean, its my fault this extra money is sitting around, so its my fault she noticed and then came here. I'm sorry, baby." Sometimes when you open your mouth everyone goes on a surprise trip, including you. It wasn't meant to turn self-deprecating, but here you are. You really do feel guilty. My presence has altered his lifestyle and its a problem.

The worry must be obvious on your features because Diego catches it immediately. He rushes to soothe you, "No, Princess. I chose to do these things, or rather to not. You have done nothing wrong. I would rather have you and this problem than to not have you and not this." His right hand comes up to cradle your cheek and direct your gaze down to him. Those beautiful brown eyes are molten, fierce with some emotion you don't want to analyze. It still fucks you up.

You swallow hard and lick your lips, "So what do we do?" Diego follows the path of your tongue with his thumb while his lips curl up in pleasure at your choice of wording. The way he looks at you sometimes, like he might try to move heaven and earth for you, it hurts. You can't decide if you like it or not.

"We must spend the money." He winks at you. "I will invest some and hide it in offshore accounts. If anything happens it will come to you." His air of finality is chilling.

Looking him over, you can feel tears welling up. "I don't want the money. I mean, don't get me wrong, I enjoy being spoiled, because duh. But if I have to make some ultimate choice between money or Murder Panther?" Your hands fling around with impassioned gesticulation.

Diego chuckles, "What does," he imitates your sharp movements, "mean, Princess?" His eyes sparkle with the city lights twinkling in through the windows, but so far he is succeeding in suppressing his smile.

"It means, you know!" You flail your hands around faster, as if that will make your point.

Diego does it back faster, so you interject with even faster movements, and Diego rebuts the same way until you grab his hands to stop him. The both of you dissolve into almost hysterical giggles.

He uses your joined hands to pull your forehead down to his. You can see a dizzying array of emotions swirling in his eyes, its breathtaking. His breathing hitches, brows draw down, and then his eyes close.

"Baby." You sigh, cupping his cheeks gently, "What?" The question is soft, tentative. He doesn't release the hold on your wrists, but allows you enough space to pet him minutely.

"When I have you here it blocks out everything else." Long fingers spasm on your forearms as Diego pauses to drag in a ragged breath, he continues, "I want to keep you here."

I don't know what to say. You're dumbfounded. "What? What does that mean?" Your voice has shrunk down to a quavering whisper.

Diego opens his eyes to look up at you and they are deep enough for drowning. "You are coddling me and I like it. I want you here every day. Give me this whenever I want it." He whispers roughly. Diego studies your form as though committing your features to memory. "You should," that raspy voice hesitates and Diego grips your arms tighter, "You should quit your job and move in with me." He stares up at you in complete sincerity.

You're trying to keep it together. Diego is the one who had a bad day here. You're supposed to be helping him, not having your very own freak out. Think rationally about this. He isn’t here all the time, sometimes he's in LA. I'm not hot enough to be a trophy wife. What would I do all day? Just help him? Wouldn't that just be a different job? Oh my god, if I say yes to this… what if he asks me to go to LA? What if--

"PRINCESS!" Diego's bark cuts through your mental tornado and you blink back to awareness. He is still in your lap, cupping your jaw in one giant hand, while he watches you silently freak the fuck out.

"I'm sorry," you gasp, "I didn't mean to just. Just. Zone out." Your breathing is shallow and you can feel your heart racing.

Diego just watches you, unreadable. You glance down at him then look away. One of the coffee mugs is missing from the tree. Must be in the dishwasher.

"Hey." That rumble is soft and you cannot ignore it. Your eyes shoot down to his again, then away, and you shake your head 'no' minutely. Diego shifts to sit up (Via only abdominal muscles, your entire pelvis helpfully informs you) but keeps a hand on you. He sits back into the corner of the sectional and beckons to you. When you move toward him Diego spins you so your back is to his chest while you sit in his lap.

He wants to maintain contact but not overwhelm me by being in my face. I wonder if he’s been researching again.

Its enough to crack your heart open a little.

His long legs bracket your hips and you smile fondly, it reminds you of all the times spent in the jacuzzi tub. Diego rests his prickly chin on your left shoulder, wraps huge hands around your middle, and just sits there. Your hands pet over his thighs, his knees, then inward to cover the grip on your rounded stomach.

"Logically," you clear your throat, "I know you don't mean it this way. But. I, well, I basically gave up my entire self once before and, as you know, it did not go well." Your voice is clear but soft as you continue, "You're not him. You are so very not him. But I still have… scars." Your hands are shaking noticeably so you stuff them under his. Diego laces his fingers with yours and steadies you.

"You never told me what he did to you. I want to know everything about you, Princess. Let us make a deal, huh?" Diego is always just a little bit greedy and you can only respect that as a fellow hedonist.

Tilting your head to the left, you lean your cheek against his nose, then answer warily, "I'm listening…" You can feel Diego's smirk.

"I will tell you what happened when I was little and you will tell me what happened during that 'relationship'. An even exchange." He stares at you from a few centimeters away and you return the calculating look from the corner of your eye.

Your lips purse while you consider, then offer a caveat, "Only if I can write it out and not speak it." You turn to face him fully. He looks so… soft.

Diego licks his lips, "Deal. Now kiss."

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

You write out everything you can remember from your ex.

How no one was allowed to know you existed, you could have no title, that it wasn't a 'relationship' despite living together for eight years.

You worked full time, you cooked, you cleaned, you kept a household budget even when it meant emptying your savings account to pay for his bankruptcy filing.

The way you paid all the bills but your name was only listed on the lease, the three cases of beer you had to buy every week no matter how tight money was for groceries, you weren't permitted to hang anything on the walls so your ex could cover them with posters of girls half your size.

You kept your hair dyed strawberry blonde because that was what he liked, because then he would touch you without sneering. The other girls you poached for him to sleep with instead of you. How you were supposed to be grateful that a man would even deem to fuck you at your size.

The wake up call when you argued back the first time after all those years. How he had backed you up to the top of the steep stairs in your second floor apartment and then loomed over you. The way you teetered on the precipice before diving under one of his arms and escaping to the bathroom, the only door with a lock.

How one day while he was at work you stuffed everything that would fit into your car and just left. The way you had to start over from scratch with no credit history or savings. The court proceedings for the restraining order, that you had to recount everything in front of your family, a judge, and the ex himself.

. . . . .

You don't realize how badly your hands are shaking until Diego takes the tablet from them. He sets it down on the neighboring cushion and locks the screen dark before turning back to you. Those huge arms wrap around your middle, on top of your own arms hugging yourself, and pull your back flush to his chest. You ponder his largeness; his thighs are as long as your arms, the stupefyingly huge hands and feet are an endless source of fascination, the biceps are your favorite pillow. You grin dumbly.

"What?" Even at a whisper his voice vibrates deep in your chest. Its not especially deep, but its so rough, it almost reminds you of a cat tongue. Diego watches your face from an inch away.

Left shoulder raising in a lazy shrug, you sigh, "I love sleeping next to you. And I don't like sharing a bed with anyone." You blush a bit with the confession, but its true. "I feel safe with you even though realistically I know it should feel the opposite. You won't hurt me and you won't let anyone else either." Its a direct contrast to what you were just writing about and you say it with absolute conviction.

"Of course not! But, but if I do, accidentally obviously, you will tell me?" Diego sounds simultaneously aghast and condescending but not at all offended by your acknowledgement of his potential danger. Amazing.

You turn to face him and lean your forehead against his. Diego sighs softly and squeezes you tighter. "I mean, I might write it, but yeah."

He makes that adorable scrunchy-thinky face that you love before announcing, "I'll allow it."

Your eyes roll fondly as you sigh, "Oh good. So glad that meets your approval." His sly smile is mesmerizing.

"So. Are you gonna read that or…?" You glance down to the tablet then back up at him. "No, wait," you interject before his open mouth can start making noise, "Tell me yours first. Please." You turn solemn as you consider how bad this might be. Watching his face gives you a hint; his forehead smooths and his eyes shutter while soft lips turn down at the corners. Its his poker face, he is hiding from you.

Diego clears his throat quietly and looks away before he begins, "Our mother died when I was young, before I started school. My Lita said she committed suicide, apparently she was depressed after I was born. Alicia blamed me."

You knew he had grown up without a mom, all of his delighted reactions to your own mother knowing and hearing about him had suddenly made a hell of a lot more sense when he told you. And you already knew that he was close with his grandmother, Lita, that she had looked out for him. And now much of Alicia's behavior made sense, too.

"My earliest memory of Alicia is at age twelve for her. By that point she had convinced our father that it was my fault. I was four the first time he hit me with a belt. The buckle, of course." Diego's jaw grinds, you can see his right eye twitch. You want to reach out to him but he probably won't tolerate it right now. He frequently misreads sympathy for pity. I'm starting to understand why.

"When I was eight she said to get in the car, I was allowed to go to the grocery store with her. The nearest was the next town to the east. Halfway there she pulled over and told me to get out, then she left. A neighbor driving home from the store saw me and took me to Lita. I do not know how long I was out there but I was very hungry." Here Diego pauses and swallows, "Lita said I ate a pound of beans." His wry smile is bitter.

Brown eyes turn to you, his face is closed and guarded at first. You keep your mouth shut and just look at him. Slowly but surely, Diego's big body relaxes behind you, his eyebrows flatten and his lips soften.

"When I was ten she pushed me through an open window. He beat me with the metal frame from the broken screen. At twelve I burnt one of the kitchen cabinets trying to make food before they got home. It was a rake that time. Thirteen was a microwave, I did not know about the thing with aluminum foil so it sparked and it was ruined. Also, I somehow got a video tape tangled in the VCR, I have no idea how. I begged my friend not to leave, father would not do anything until we were alone. It only made it worse." You can't take it anymore, your right hand comes up to his far shoulder and strokes up to cup his jaw.

Diego turns toward you, rests his forehead into your neck, then proceeds to give you more. "I was sixteen when father staged the coup and killed his uncle to take over the cartel. He and Alicia sent me on 'errands'. I learned that these were suicide missions when I turned nineteen. Each time I came home fucked up but alive they were furious. Every time the cartel experienced a setback Alicia convinced everyone it was my fault, that I somehow ruined everything I was given." The seismic effect of his voice has shrunk in correlation to his volume. You can clearly tell that this is the time period when Alicia cemented into his mind that he was a total fuckup.

Rough beard sears your skin as Diego raises his head to rub a cheek on you. You shudder and fist his shirt in your hand. With a deep sigh he goes on, "I was twenty-two when I made my first deal with a cousin. It took three years but we arranged for a rival outfit to give information to the DEA and they took our father away. Alicia decided this was her chance to take over everything but the men did not all take her seriously as a woman. Thus, she finally had a use for me and so here I am still."

You lean into him, rubbing back. Diego is the first and only person with whom you have actively wanted and enjoyed cuddling. He always smells good to you, even when he should probably shower you still like to bury your nose in his hair and breathe deep. Its gotta be pheromones.

"She doesn’t know that you made that deal, does she?" You question cautiously, wary of upsetting him. He shakes his head 'no' and brushes fleeting kisses up your neck to your cheek. You take it one step farther, "So could you potentially take over everything by yourself?"

Diego pauses to meet your gaze, his head cocks to the side just the tiniest bit. "Do… do you want me to do that?" His voice is hesitant, cautious even.

"No." You whisper softly. "I just want you safe. As safe as possible. And I know you'll be safer if she is out of your life." Your smaller hands cup his jaw through their own volition, thumbs stroking over the silver patches in his goatee. Plunging straight into the deep end, you offer an alternative, "Or, if that isn't a viable option, maybe you could quote-unquote 'retire'?" You study his beautiful face as his eyes unfocus while he digests your words. His brow furrows and he purses his lips in concentration.

"That is worth some deliberation, Princess." Diego admits. Then, with a visible shake, he comes back to the topic at hand. "But now, it is your turn. Turn back, huh? I'll read this." Big hands move you around like a ragdoll and you melt a little inside, I wonder if he could just carry me like a baby all day.

You snuggle back into thick torso and sigh with pleasure. Yes, you're still anxious about this but you trust Diego more. Knees drawing up, you hide in your thighs, he only squeezes you tighter. You can hear him picking up the tablet and. And.

Breathe. Just breathe. My jeggings are soft, the couch is slightly fuzzy, his pants are silky, the blanket is plush. I'm here, with Diego, right now. Safe. You practice the grounding techniques that have worked in the past while he reads silently. His stillness is killing you slowly.

Finally, the tablet goes back to the cushion and the second hand comes back to you. Diego grips your stomach tightly before speaking, "Princess. You understand that you are beautiful, yes? I said I love you because I meant it. You. Just like this. Round and soft and thick. With your glasses and your big dark eyes and these curls in so many shades of brown and silver. Smart, sarcastic, funny, ballsy. You are shrewd and sneaky, that's sexy!" He chuckles a bit and you laugh raggedly, trying to hold back tears.

"But," he continues in a milder tone, "I understand why you were unnerved earlier. I did not mean to absorb you, or, or erase you. I only want to take care of you. Spoil you how you deserve it. You understand?" That dark voice directly in your ear is incredibly distracting, and then the words register in your consciousness.

"I, I mean I understand but I don't get it. You know?" Your voice is raspy, you're so tired deep in your soul. This is everything you never allowed yourself to dream of and you're not entirely sure that maybe you aren't in a coma somewhere hallucinating all of this. It certainly feels real, you snort to yourself as you pet over Diego's muscled arms.

Nuzzling into your neck, he sighs deeply, "Oh, I do. You have no criminal record, you rescue tiny baby animals, I have seen you buy food for other people when their card declines, you sort recycling, woman." Here he laughs wryly and you join him. You see his point, you're both from very different backgrounds and from the outside probably don't seem like a good fit. But still…

"Most of my insecurities come from my size and the way that has influenced other people's demeanor toward me. You have never behaved like that, you always treated me just like all other women. It's both confusing and freeing. Like, at times I don't know how to behave but other times I just run with it." Your confession comes out evenly and sounds logical. Huh, maybe I'm finally getting over some of this.

Diego hums thoughtfully from where he is pressed into your cheek. "And you have always treated me like a person, not a bank or just a good time. Or a path to power." His voice is raspy and low, full of emotion. "As though my feelings mattered. Even that first night. You regarded me as an equal." You chuckle with the memory of forcing him to come to you in the club when you first met. His dimpled smile of delight still has the same effect on you. Recalling the morning after when he wasn't at all fazed upon seeing you while sober and well-lit fills you with warmth, too.

Diego goes on, oblivious to your musings, "I want to take care of you as a partner, not take you over. I want you just as you are, I wouldn't have taken you home, or texted you later, or invited you back if I didn't. I will share everything with you. I have kept you from the business for your own safety, but I, but if, if you want to see or learn, I know you would be an exceptional addition. It would change your life drastically and I did not want to make that decision for you; that would not end well."

You can hear the restrained hope in his words. His serious consideration of leaving the business for you is a revelation. He really and truly wants to share his life with you; to make a life together, not simply add you to his own as an accessory. He values your input and observations but doesn't want to put you in a precarious or dangerous situation. Being with him like this already does that. I'm already in this far, I'm IN LOVE WITH HIM.

"I want to think about it. I can't lie, of course I like the idea of being taken care of, not having to worry about things. But I still need to be my own individual, not a dependent, you know?" Its easier when you can't see him, you're less likely to shutdown and go nonverbal. Diego clearly understands this, and therefore you. Its new and novel and comforting and terrifying.

With a kiss to your cheek he leans back a bit to whisper, "That is understandable and reasonable. I have been doing research, reading on normal relationships and not so normal women. I have never done any of this before. But know this: Everything I have, everything I am, is yours, Princess. My wealth, my connections, my power, me, my heart, this dick, all yours."

You snort through tears, "That's like a fucking hallmark card, baby." It hurts underneath your ribs, Is this what love is supposed to feel like or am I doing it wrong? He's certainly doing it right. You giggle unevenly before amending, "Except for the dick. That is all Diego."

His laugh is deep and soft. "I have never bought a card in my life. Is that really what they're like?" He asks incredulously. Your enthusiastic nod only makes him laugh harder, the hoarseness of it giving way to wheezing. "That is horrible!"

"I know!" You crow and then collapse back into him in helpless guffaws. Diego wheezes into your hair, grabbing your hands and holding tight.

"But," he pauses to giggle briefly, "But, can we try? Will you at least consider more for me? I wasn't sure when to tell you, but... we are going to split the territory and the duties. I am going to stay here, in New York, full time." Diego declares haltingly, his voice quavers with the fear of rejection. "You can come here whenever you wish and I'll be able to reach you in two hours on any day. I want to be as close to you as possible, close for you."

You turn around slowly, openly gawking at him. His big brown eyes are wet, he blinks furiously and licks his lips in apprehension. This dangerous, powerful, stunning man is afraid of your refusal.

"You… I. I don't know what. That's. No one has ever…" you trail off and gesture vaguely. Your question is thick with shock, "You're rearranging your life for me?"

Diego shrugs half-heartedly. "You are my priority, Princess. I don't want a life without you. Please tell me that is ok-kay." His voice hitches. For this man that is practically begging.

You can feel your throat closing up, its all you can do to nod and throw yourself into his arms. That big body sags with relief as Diego crushes you to him. Burrowing into his neck, you choke out fiercely, "I love you, Diego Jimenez."

His choppy sigh, the soft, "Te amo, Princess." It all shatters you apart. When the pieces come back together again its Diego who fits them into place, Diego who holds you together, Diego who tries to set you free to thrive on your own terms.

This is like the most ridiculously lovesick puzzle in the universe. Fucking feelings.

#damnit diego #murder panther #starz power diego jimenez #rough me up then dick me down #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #maurice compte #zash writes

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starker-stories · 5 years ago

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An Accord (WIS), Chapter 11

This fic is on a ‘whenever my goddamn muse decides to show up’ update schedule. Every Friday would be nice, muse. But the nice thing is that I have only one more chapter to write, because the last chapter is done. Yes, I know that's a stupid way to write a story. And doing the chapters out of order always messes me up in the end. *sigh*

Oh looky! I made a moodboard!

Tumblr Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13 AO3 Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13

Tags: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory, Cheating, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Nightmare Tony Stark, Reconciliation, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WinterIronSpider, Happy Ending, Clothed Sex, Domesticity, Peter Parker is legal age in the state of New York, College Student Peter Parker, Takes place about 2 years after Civil War. Closeted Character

Summary: “Joy, Beautiful. That’s something you give both of us. Neither of us ever had a lot of that in our lives before you. Heart,” Tony said, drawing a Valentine’s heart over Peter’s. “I know I can’t live without this one. Don’t think Bucky wants to live without it either.” ——————————————————————————————

Chapter 10: Han and Leia and Chewie

Bucky had already left for the day. He finished his debriefs a few days ago, but Fury was using him to weapons train the new recruits. He was also using him to root out any last bits of HYDRA lurking around SHIELD or elsewhere.

“Baby, c’mere,” Tony said smiling lazily shortly after FRIDAY woke them at eight.

“You’re going to make me miss my ten o’clock class again,” Peter said, putting up only a half-hearted protest as he came out of the bathroom, naked, drying himself off from his shower.

“It’s inorganic chemistry and lab. You can do both of those here with your text and the space I set up for you. I’ll promise to let you out of this bed in time to make your one o’clock differential equations.”

Peter laughed and climbed into bed. “You’re a bad influence.”

“Yeah, but at least I’m good at it.” Tony pulled Peter close and kissed him. “This right here,” he said, tangling his fingers through the boy’s damp, springy curls. “A big part of why you got your name, Beautiful. You look like a renaissance painting. Better,” he said, reaching down and cupping Peter’s cock and balls. “They always gave their men small cocks. Not enough for a horny Catholic boy to jerk off to after confession.”

Peter snorted. “You’re Catholic?”

“Was. I guess technically I still am, since you have to write the Vatican and be taken off the rolls. I should do that.”

“Oh no you don’t. I have all sorts of naughty priest/altar boy fantasies to play out.”

“You’re Catholic?” Tony said in disbelief. “Parker’s a pretty WASP name.”

“So’s Stark. But Fitzpatrick isn’t. That was my mom’s name.”

“Well, if the Vatican ever changes…”

Peter laughed.

“We can get married in the Church,” Tony said, grinning.

“Did you just propose to me?”

“Nope. Just speculating. We’re not even out yet, but you did turn eighteen.”

“I’d been thinking about how to do that, but…” Peter sighed. “Things got more complicated.”

“Yeah.”

“I kinda…” Peter hesitated.

“Me too.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say! You always do that!” Peter swatted Tony’s arm.

“You were going to say that you kinda love Bucky more than you thought you did.”

“Dammit Tony!” Peter rolled his eyes. “Yes.” He paused, realizing what Tony said. “You do too?”

Tony nodded. “Is that okay?”

“I was worried about you. You’re very possessive, you know,” Peter teased.

“News to me.” Tony smiled. “I just feel possessive about two of you now. But, while I love Pretty a whole lot more than I ever thought I would… you’re still it for me, Peter.”

Peter leaned up and gave Tony a kiss. “Same. But he’s more than just ‘a bit on the side’.”

“Entirely. Human language is imprecise enough as it is, it never had to deal with stuff like this before. Pair-bonding came along before language did. More efficient for perpetuating the species through child rearing.”

“I am not having kids, Tony. By any means.”

“Fuck no.”

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god. I thought that some day you’d be all like ‘I’m a famous billionaire my name must go on’.”

“I’ll be dead, why would I give a fuck about my name after I’m dead?”

“That’s either massively egotistical or massively not. I can’t figure out which.”

“It’s solipsistic. The world exists as what we experience. What we don’t, doesn’t exist.”

“So no kids. Thank god. But… while I love you so very different from Bucky… us coming out as a couple, that cuts him out.”

“It isn’t what we’ve got here,” Tony agreed. It was his turn to kiss Peter. He took a little longer at it than the kid did. He couldn’t help it. Kissing was another of his fetishes.

“Do you mind waiting?”

Tony shrugged. “You were the one in a hurry.”

“I still am,” Peter said.

“How about ‘it happens when it happens’?”

“And how it happens,” Peter added.

“Meaning?” Tony asked.

“If we get caught as being more than a couple, we don’t deny it.”

“That’s a big step.”

Peter shrugged. “When have you cared what the world thinks?”

Tony chuckled. “Other than legally, I don’t. But I’m not the only one who’s gonna take heat.”

“Table the discussion for now?”

“The three of us can pick away at it. But yeah, it’s gonna take more than just the two of us calling whatever reporter we want and telling them.”

“But you’re really okay?” Peter asked quietly.

“That’s my question,” Tony said and put a kiss on the tip of Peter’s nose. “Me and him… it’s not me and you. But it’s more ‘me and him’ than I thought it would be.”

“You have history with him.”

Tony watched Peter’s face closely. “I have history with you. Longer if you count the time that would’ve got me thrown in jail.”

Peter laughed. “I do count the time that would’ve got you thrown in jail. I saw you looking at my ass entirely inappropriately.”

“Not my fault. You have a fine ass.”

“I had a fifteen year old ass.”

“Fifteen with the body of a much older young man thanks to the spider.”

“’S okay. I forgive you. Means I don’t have to feel guilty about seeing a picture of you stepping out of the suit looking all suave in a tux being the cause of my middle school sexual awakening.”

“I did NOT need to know that,” Tony said laughing. He turned serious again and ran his fingertip along Peter’s arm. “The history thing, that bother you?

Peter thought about it and sighed. “Not the history thing,” he said, biting his lip. “The adult thing. You’re both… and I’m not. I’m scared you’re gonna get tired of dealing with a teenager and want, y’know, a man instead.”

“There’s only one problem with that.”

Peter hummed in question.

“I happen to be entirely, madly, hopelessly in love with a teenager,” Tony said with a kiss.

“And you love Bucky more than you thought you would.” He paused. “He’s in love with you, I don’t care that he said he’s not sure. He is.”

“Yeah, I know. He knows. He told me.”

“Oh.” Peter’s voice was small.

“He also told me that he’s in love with you.”

“I doubt that.”

“You shouldn’t. You give him something he never had, baby.”

Peter’s hummed question sounded doubtful.

“Joy, Beautiful. That’s something you give both of us. Neither of us ever had a lot of that in our lives before you. Heart,” Tony said, drawing a Valentine’s heart over Peter’s. “I know I can’t live without this one. Don’t think Bucky wants to live without it either.”

“I love you,” Peter said.

“I know,” Tony answered, in a certain familiar way.

“Oh fuck you, Han.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of fucking you, Leia,” Tony said, rolling on top of Peter.

Peter grinned. “That makes us Han and Leia and Chewie. Because of the hair.”

Tony let out a high-pitched giggle. Peter took advantage and rolled him over, straddling his thighs. “Princesses get to be on top.” He slid forward to where their cocks were together. Still soft, he took both in his hand and started stroking them.

“Fuck, Pete,” Tony breathed out, his eyes fixed on Peter’s hand and their cocks together. It was a sight that always got to him.

Peter worked his hand up their shafts. Until they were both hard and one hand had to become two. Tony sucked in a sharp breath and his cock leaked enough precome that, mixed with his own, Peter was able to slick his hand to make the glide easier. He shifted his position to bring the heads on a level with each other so he could palm over both at the same time.

“All right, magic lube boy,” Peter said, teasing. He held out his hand, cupped upward. And Tony… like magic, damn him… found the lube under the pillow. “How do I not sleep on that?”

Tony chuckled. “Because you can’t sleep more than six inches away from the arc.” He squeezed a large dollop of lube onto Peter’s upturned palm.

“You have your fetishes,” Peter said, sliding his slick hand over both of them, but mostly over Tony. “I have mine.”

“You wouldn’t love us if we weren’t cyborgs…” Tony broke off his teasing with a sharp breath sucked between his teeth as Peter’s hand smoothed directly over the head of his cock.

Peter stopped touching himself and concentrated on slicking Tony up. He raised on his thighs and crept forward until he wasn’t sitting on Tony’s thighs but holding himself above the man’s cock. He reached behind, his hand circling Tony’s shaft and tried to settle straight down onto him but the angle wasn’t right. They hadn’t done it often with Peter on top, and when they had, Tony was sitting up, helping him.

“Lean forward, baby,” Tony suggested.

He couldn’t see how that would help, but Peter let go of Tony’s cock and started to fall forward. Instead of ending up on top of Tony, the man’s hands stopped his fall, reaching up to spread, palms wide, over Peter’s chest. It was harder to reach back, but when Peter slid down, it was perfect and Tony started to slip easily inside of him.

Peter slowly started to sit more upright, taking more of Tony’s cock into him. Tony moved his hands lower, caressing Peter’s sides firmly, letting him guide himself into position. He settled his hands low on Peter’s narrow waist, just above the boy’s hips, his thumbs slotting into the deep V lines. He didn’t rise up to thrust nor pull Peter down with his hands. He let Peter control everything this time.

“That’s it, Beautiful,” Tony said as Peter started to rise and fall rhythmically, his thighs tensing and relaxing, tight cords underneath smooth skin. Peter was achingly beautiful. His body had been transformed by the spider bite. The muscles, the strength… that was all spider. The flawless pale skin, the grace with which he moved, the way he moaned and his breath caught and then he’d cry out… that was all Peter.

As was the confident, yet experimental, way Peter sought to make himself feel good. Peter’s hands grabbed Tony’s forearms, using them to balance, to push against, sliding down them to find the best angle as he rolled his hips, grinning when, in search of his own pleasure, he’d accidentally made Tony gasp instead. Clenching tightly, rising and then falling with another tight roll of his hips, his eyes were twinkling when Tony’s opened to meet his.

Tony’s revenge was simple. He stopped holding Peter’s waist, leaving the boy to find his own balance, which, frustratingly he did. But when he next rolled forward, Tony’s hands returned to Peter’s chest. He rarely had such an opportunity to appreciate that finely sculpted part of Peter’s body. He ran his palms over the kid’s pecs and his fingers found Peter’s nipples. He started gently rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. Peter whimpered. The gentle fondling became pinches and pulls, and Peter’s whimpers were broken and caught on rapidly panting breaths.

He knew what that did to the boy. Peter’s cock was jumping and the rise and fall on Tony’s stuttered. He was trying to plead with Tony but the words wouldn’t come out as anything but gasped letters. Finally, Tony found his hands swatted away with strong pushes to each of his arms. Peter glared at him and Tony wore a smug grin.

“Something wrong, Beautiful?” he teased.

“Yes, you bastard! You are not gonna make me come by playing with my poor abused nipples again!”

Tony chuckled. “You are the only one I’ve ever seen do that. Those cute little things are directly wired to your cock, baby. How can I resist?”

Peter rocked forward with a slow grind of his hips. Tightening around Tony’s cock, he dragged his body up, milking the man. He loosened and fell back down, until he was flat against Tony’s pelvis. With Tony buried all the way inside of him, Peter reached behind and cupped the man’s balls, gently rolling them, giving them a light little squeeze, running a single fingertip, pressing firmly, beneath them. Tony groaned and his eyes closed and his hips rose, trying to push himself deeper into Peter.

“Baby, how can I resist?” Peter said, with a smug grin when he stopped and Tony met his eyes.

Peter leaned forward, holding himself at just the right angle. When he began his rise and fall on Tony’s cock, he rode in short, shallow strokes, having found the perfect position and depth to give himself pleasure.

Tony watched in amazement as Peter earned his nickname. His curly hair was a sweat-damp springy mess, falling forward, clinging to his forehead. His body glistened in the morning light coming through the huge windows of their bedroom. The kid’s muscles… so fucking strong, no strain or falter no matter the fact that they’d been working at his ride. Gracefully, he rolled his body, thighs to shoulders, the shudder arching his back in a belly dancer’s writhe as he gasped.

And Peter’s face… Tony couldn’t concentrate at all on how the kid was making his cock feel, because the kid’s face… dear lord, Tony was lost. Peter’s eyes were closed, the lids smooth and pale, lashes long and, when he’d hit his movements just right, they fluttered like butterfly wings. The pink flush on his cheeks was dark and shining with sweat. The heat of it ran all the way down his neck. But it was his mouth that caught and held Tony’s eye. Slack and parted, his white teeth a line beneath them, his lips were licked and bitten, puffy and glistening from his tongue darting across their swell.

Tony moaned just from looking at his Beautiful. His. Shared, but that didn’t seem to matter because he loved who Peter was shared with. The idea of having his perfect boy beloved, not just by him but by Bucky as well, almost made it better. Knowing that there was another person who would be as stunned by this sight. His reaction to the thought surprised him. He was always so possessive of Peter. But as he watched the boy shudder through another wave of pleasure and his moan become a cry of Tony’s name, he realized he was still just as possessive as ever. Only he possessed two treasures, one Beautiful and one Pretty. They both were his.

“Oh fuck, Peter,” Tony moaned and put his hands on the boy’s hips. Not controlling his rise and fall, just holding, just feeling the heat of Peter’s skin on his fingers. “Baby… oh fuck yes. Go on, Beautiful. Touch that gorgeous, cock of yours. I wanna see your hand on it. You’re so hard. Your cock’s dripping on me. Make yourself come, baby. I wanna see you. I want you all over me. God Peter, you are a sight.”

Peter whimpered as Tony spoke. The man’s voice was husky and low, crooning out words of praise. Peter’s hand wrapped around his cock and he rocked his hips into the circle of it. His ride faltered a moment as he hunted for a new movement that would mix both actions into one irresistible spike of pleasure. His gasp strained with his held breath, body tight with the rise of it, held still at the height of his stroke for what seemed like forever, but was only a moment, before it broke and he fell. “Oh… fuck! Oh… oh… Tony!” He screamed as he came over Tony. Almost immediately he fell on top of the man, shuddering and quaking. Peter slid his arms along Tony’s sides, under his arms, his hands clutching upwards over Tony’s shoulders. This time not a cry, but an almost frightened whisper, “Tony.”

Tony wrapped his arms around Peter, solid, comforting. His cock was still hard as Peter slid off of him to be high enough up his body to bury his face in the crook of his neck. Flat palmed, Tony soothed down Peter’s back. “I have you, Pete. Always have you. Right here, Beautiful. Not ever letting go.” He kissed the side of Peter’s head and he clung almost as tightly to the boy as Peter clung to him, although his strength wasn’t a match. His shoulders would be bruised with little circles from Peter’s fingertips, longer lines from his fingers. He never minded the marks. Tony liked seeing the signs of Peter’s need on his body. His power, but restrained, even as far gone as the boy had been, he still pulled it back.

“Baby, you’re my forever,” he whispered into Peter’s ear. Tony’s fingers carded softly through Peter’s wet and tangled curls. “My forever, Peter.”

“Oh, I love you, Tony,” Peter said, his lips moving over the man’s neck as his body finally began to still. His hand gentled over where the bruises he left would rise on Tony’s shoulder. He was always so frightened of them, afraid that one day he’d hold on too tightly and hurt Tony. But he never did. He didn’t understand how that worked or why. But he never hurt him.

Peter slid up just a little bit more and kissed behind Tony’s ear. He whispered it again. “Baby, I love you.”

Tony’s breath caught. Such a beautiful, fragile, gentle thing in his arms. How could he love him? But Peter found something inside of him that was worth loving. There was still something there.

He rolled them to their sides, messy between them. Tony’s cock softened, forgotten. He reached down, pulling them both up off the mattress for a moment, until he grasped the bedcover and pulled it up over Peter’s cooling body. Laying back down on the bed, his lips found Peter’s. Softly, tenderly, they kissed over and over. Tony sucked that beautiful red, swollen, bitten bottom lip into his mouth and gently sucked on it, licking across it, teasing it’s sensitivity until Peter sighed into his kiss.

At eleven fifteen they were awakened by FRIDAY’s announcement that if Peter wanted to make his one pm differential equations class, he needed to get up and get ready.

Peter smiled and gave Tony a light kiss. “You wake up too or you’re gonna fuck your sleeping up.”

Tony sighed, knowing that Peter was right, even though all he wanted to do was pull that duvet over himself and sleep. “Go get your shower.” He sat up, knowing if he stayed laying down, all his good intentions to wake up would be lost.

“I swear, if I come home and find you asleep…”

Tony laughed. “Nope. Not doing that ever again. You threatened me with ice water before you left and you fucking did it, you menace.” He watched as Peter crawled across his crazy huge bed, which he knew was a crazy huge bed and that’s why he liked it. “Keep wiggling that ass at me and I won’t let you up until time for your three o’clock physics class.”

Peter looked over his shoulder and stuck out his tongue at Tony, then pushed off with his arms, jumping up and flipping in mid-air until he landed on his feet between the bed and the bathroom. “I cannot miss that class,” he said, heading for the shower.

“Yeah, I know. You better make up that ninety-three on your last test with your final. Do you know how embarrassing it would be for me to have a boyfriend who didn’t hit the mark in physics?”

“Shut the fuck up, Tony,” Peter said as FRIDAY turned on the water and he got under it. “You make me want to flunk and then tell my professor that you gave me all the wrong information and the only reason you got your PhD in physics was because you blew your advisor.”

“I did, but my dissertation acceptance had nothing to do with that. Though maybe fucking the dean might’ve helped,” Tony said, flushing the toilet after signaling FRIDAY to not adjust the water temperature for the pressure drop.

Peter’s yelp was extremely satisfying.

#starker #WinterIronSpider #IronSpider #WIS An Accord #Von writes stuff #Von's Moodboards

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libidomechanica · 4 years ago

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Untitled Composition # 8150

Come when you do not ashamèd; I trembling song apollo each doorways, sweet odes of all that the core; stern winds, and let this song. And Betty from those forsworne? And in clouds, shouldst be good reason, and duly for malice shout, halloo! Lycius, said the one whose gift of shade, the temptation of Death stars or with him of cattle turret that fatal shore a jurymast), and draw a draught of pain. Along to you. And dolphins leap, and rave, the wreck in fit magnificent, that light in measures, the wind the shore, in waterd it in the cave hears, sappho the end, doth come, lets force— so vanishd people, who build then two pure withdrew O tis passions should lifts him off, or so; a gentle pay of other recollection; if we shoulder their hopes it easier for on a dunghill. (And yet rolls, but the whole of mast, as I grew wild: so every ill of true good deal of the noble and drinks water left their land, France, as thou was love, I here some doubt should scatter me? And gave my heart is a kitten million time, this fatherd Indian darts as difficult as if they began to make vs to wounded; yet could see; my foe beheld stellas fairest booke: what fail to pipe in my brow. Lamia, regalities and ordure of old fell down till these two torn away, after sometimes come like earth could aught helpelesse of the wood. A nymph! Envied, – I, lessened in life could feel rapturous vestige of dore, and, her them on the bridges, aqueducts,—and he must be a sing, no one wasten soone besides, so the stars above, and cedar pole, that echoes far removd, every won; thou wast my soul, and her sultry horn, and turn to show “em, to marking to be curbed and the bees, stole throes, and fed by everlasting in disorder place? High on the

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#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #174 texts

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theprincessgarden-blog · 6 years ago

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Welcome to my first post on my new blog 💖

This is something I have been thinking about doing for ages now, so I hope everyone will enjoy it as much as I think I am going to! I am hoping to make a post every day - or at least a few times a week - and plan to cover quite a wide variety of topics! The name of my blog is inspired by my middle name, Eden, and its connection to the Bible story. I have always loved the story and connected to it a lot. Unfortunately, just “The Garden” was taken, so I decided to make it a princess garden since most of my daily life is dedicated to caring for my two little princesses.

For those that don’t know me, I’d like to give a bit of a background about myself, and to get an idea for what my blog will be about. I’m a 24 year old wife, mom, and step mom with 3 small dogs. I currently live in a house built in the 1950′s in Texas that we are slowly remodeling - the same house I grew up in as a kid, which I love. I have a wide variety of interests, that range from things like reading, writing and drawing, to fashion and sewing, philosophy, psychology, mental health and eating disorders, mixed media art, home decor, design, re-purposing and DIY, movies and TV (including my guilty pleasure, trashy reality TV), food and watching my husband cook, religions of the world and theology, vintage toys and collectibles, thrift shopping and making things work on a budget, and more that will probably come to mind after I make this post. If any of those things sound interesting to you, then I would encourage you to follow along as I will eventually be covering a very wide range of subjects as they come up in my life and I feel a need or want to blog about them I have constantly been told by my friends and family that a lot of the things that I do would be inspiring and/or helpful to others, so I’m hoping this can serve as the one place for me to post my thoughts and ideas.

To start the blog off, I want to talk about the kitchen and dining room remodel that we are currently working on! Unfortunately we don’t have the resources to spend 30k to remodel our dream kitchen, but we are doing what we can and so far we are loving it! My husband Zach and I have been discussing our color scheme for about a year, and now seeing it in person is feeling fantastic! I am planning to post in a bit more detail about what we do, but for now I will give the blog the first peek that anyone - besides my closest friends - has seen!

Here’s the before:

As you can tell, I had pretty much given up on trying to keep it cute and organized. I had been feeling so uninspired with how old the cabinets looked and felt. If you look closely, there are hinges leftover from the doors that use to be on these cabinets, and during my home renovation process, I’ve realized it’s small things like that that REALLY affect a room. They’re the kind of thing that you look over and sometimes don’t realize would only take a few minutes to take down, and would significantly change the object or room. When my husband took them down before we painted, it immediately made them look better! And I wondered why we hadn’t at least done that YEARS ago! (These cabinet doors have been missing my entire life! lol)

Quick phone shot of our progress, ft. my husband touching up a spot:

I am LOVING the color! With the cabinet hardware taken down, holes covered from where the cabinets hung, and this beautiful, fresh coat of paint, our cabinets are looking deliberate and stylish! It’s truly feeling like a dream come true. I’m super excited to buy new plates and decor.

Our next step is going to be prepping our walls for wallpaper! We got the most gorgeous wallpaper off of amazon and it’s going to go perfect with our vintage farmhouse feel.

I can’t wait to continue to update with more of the things we learn during this process. I also will try to post some past projects in the future once I get things going!

Thanks for reading ✨ Be on the lookout for tomorrow’s post!

#first post #intro #kitchen remodel #farmhouse #family blog

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khelinski · 4 years ago

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Snow White Mondays

For whoever is reading this - if you have any talents at all, don’t give up on it. Harness it. Perfect it. Keep at it.

And share it.

Exactly ten years ago, Karii Lynn wrote this story. A year later, she shared it with me.

She’s been gone for two years now...but...her words live on.

This is a tough read, but it’s a great read. She was a natural writer. I wish she had more time to write more.

💙💙💙

October 12, 2010

Snow White Mondays

By: Karii Lynn

She always visits me on Mondays. Or maybe Wednesdays? Sundays perhaps? I've no idea honestly. They might've changed the names of the weekdays for all I'm aware.

All I'm aware of is those bright days filled with long blonde hair and hazel eyes. Her beautiful voice telling me stories of useless everyday drama. Sometimes she'll even sing, though only loud enough for me to hear.

Every Monday she brings me a daisy. My namesake flower, so of course I’ve kept them all.

On these days I forget. I forget about the mirrors.

_______________________________

New York State Psychiatric Institute

Daisy Todd Case No.: 446, 7058

Admission Date: 10/12/15 Date of Birth: 9/7/1992

BACKGROUND INFORMATION: Ms. Todd was born in Chicago, Illinois. She currently resides in New York City.

Her father passed some years ago and the mother does not seem to want any contact. She does have a girlfriend who regularly visits.

Ms. Todd does not currently appear to be following a career path. Instead she seems to be selling artwork from her Bronx apartment.

_______________________________

It's Monday again.

Melody is here. My singing beauty. My snow white princess.

She tells me about her boss, Madian. She doesn't like him. He makes her eyes turn blue. I've decided I don't like him either.

When it's my turn to talk, I speak of leaves. It must be April by now, right? It's been winter for so long in my room. It’s so white in here. Sometimes I think I see snow falling from my whitewhite ceiling. I brush it off but it refuses to budge. Often, I try to push it into piles and organize it on the floor.

When I tell Melody this she smiles sadly. Then she kisses me on the forehead and leaves.

Another Monday gone. Now I'm left alone, alone with the reflections.

_______________________________

PREVIOUS MEDICAL HISTORY: Ms. Todd appears to have no previously noted medical conditions. She has never been to a counselor or therapist. The trigger for this change of behavior is unknown.

_______________________________

I miss painting. And drawing.

The canvas was always blank and waiting. Waiting for me to change it, influence it. And oh, the things I could do. I was wonderful, wasn't I?

"You always were so self-centered," Melody smirks playfully. Yes I'm sure I was. It's hard to remember days without snow. The snow and cold.

I don’t know what I might paint if I were even allowed. I’ve nearly forgotten color, something that was once so important to me. I believe first, I would paint my room yellow. Then, maybe I would paint a daisy. A painting of every daisy Melody has brought me on our Mondays.

They would be lovely works of art. Museum worthy no doubt.

"You’re so narcissistic! Do you remember what you used to say, baby? Remember? 'I'm just soo curious!' Personally, I think it was just an excuse to look at yourself longer," she says laughing softly. She’s having a good day.

A cold sweat breaks out over my face. Curiosity. It killed the cat. The cat, the cat. All dressed in black. The cat who looked in the mirror too long. The cat who discovered the secret on the other side. It took her on a horrible riderideride.

I can see them now. Melody helped me forget, but now. Ohgodohgod.

My eyes are closed. When I open them I find I'm under the bed, a safe place in my little ice igloo.

"Watch out, babydoll," I warnwarnwarn my Melody. Can't have her pretty face hurt by them. "Can't you see them?!" Their creeping, crawling, slithering.

My eyes are closed again. I'm lost, drowning in my fear. When I come around again, my arms are trapped to the bed. Trapped by white, ice tendrils.

Melody leaves me. One sad green eye covered by her hand. This is not entirely rare. The dark figures often get her before she leaves. I'm quite a bad hero.

Goodbye, Monday.

_______________________________

PRIOR TO THE INCIDENT: According to Melody Artem, the patient's girlfriend, Ms. Todd was displaying unusual behaviors about 6 months previously. Losing sleep, obsessing over insignificant things, and uncleanliness of her living space. Ms. Artem also described a serious obsession with mirrors.

Apparently Ms. Todd proceeded to smash all the mirrors in her apartment. Behind them, scribbles covered the walls. "Cannot have it", "leave me alone", and "not crazy" are among the various phrases.

_______________________________

"If I should call you up, invest a dime, and you'd say you belong to me, and ease my mind..."

So happy together. My Melody and I. How she used to hold me tightly all the night through. Warmth, skin, and true love. My forever girl. That one that you can never live without.

The white maidens that the tuck me in say we're so adorable together. I think they watch us when Melody comes to see me on Mondays. Maybe that's why she sings so quietly? How very rude indeed.

Sometimes I remember what colors are like. On the outside. When I wasn't dangerous. That's what the maidens say at least. They say I cause the bruises on my dear Melody’s face. I beg to differ, but who shall listen to my frail vocals? Just because they can't see...

Anyway, color. The dates. Sweater dates were my favorite. October, of course. Walking the corn mazes pretending to be lost, donuts and cider in hand. Stopping for kisses and peeing in the dense spots, laughing all the while.

That ended of course. When I stopped eating and discovered what lay on the other side. Who watched when you thought you were alone. They can't take what you don't have, right? The smaller I was, the less there was to steal.

Melody wasn't happy, though. She didn't understand. She used to bake me lovely meals, absolutely delicious delights. My favorite food every day. Chickenchickenchicken. But I would turn my head away after a few bites. I had to. Really, I did. I wasn't trying to make her cry. I tell the maidens that every time they bring me my mashed potatoes. It wasn't my fault. Blame the darkdarkdark figures.

I try to tell her this on Monday. To apologize. But I get choked up on darkness and have to stay under the bed again. On the bright side, I had a nice visit with her feet. Converse, I believe. I thank them for carrying her to me every Monday.

_______________________________

INCIDENT REPORT: Patient was found in her home by her girlfriend. Ms. Todd had broken every mirror in her home (there was an unusual amount considering the apartment size) and proceeded to harm herself. Clumps of her hair seemed to have been ripped out and it appeared to have been several days since her last meal. Garbage was plentiful and the apartment was a mess. Paint was splattered everywhere and most of her prized art work was in tattered ruins.

We are unsure of her intentions, logical or otherwise. Since arrival, Ms. Todd has displayed many psychotic symptoms including, but not limited to: muttering, hallucinations, disordered thinking, trouble concentrating, repetitive and regressive behaviors. Due to these factors, Ms. Todd has been unable to give us an accurate account of the cause of her actions and is being kept in a separate inpatient ward.

___________________________

I'm so very tired of white. Bored perhaps? I wish it were red in here. Red walls, red floors, red stars.

When I felt like getting out of bed one Tuesday (for it couldn't have been Monday, my Melody's chair was vacant.) I try to paint. I discovered once with my mirrors that there is paint hidden under my skin. How useful indeed. This way I shall never run out. Very good for my budget. I should tell Melody this secret, she can take it with her to economics class. What a hero she will be.

Unfortunately, the snow maidens do not like my painting. They bumbled about howling about the wounds. “How did she manage this?!” How indeed. Teethteethteeth. They stitched my paper skin back together though, thus stifling my masterpiece. Oh the woes of an artist.

I am put on punishment. Forced to spend several days strapped to my snowbed by icicle handcuffs. How they make me cold.

Maybe I am dangerous? A danger to myself and to my dear, sweet, lovely girl. Why did I do that, I wonder blankly. As I watch from my straps, the janitor cleans my paint from the wall and I continue to wonder.

Maybe I am crazy. Psycho. Loonytoons. Bananacrackers.

But then the whispers come from beneath my bed, and I know that I'm not the one who cannot see properly. "Silly thoughts you're having, Daisy darling. Do you doubt?" I spend the next few Mondays convincing them of my belief. If I say the right things they won't touch me as much, my dark and painful lovers.

Oh, where is my Melody?

_______________________________

It didn't used to be like this. She used to be normal. I'm not sure what went wrong, what I did wrong.

We began dating my freshmen year, her junior. It was confusing and new, but we fit together so perfectly. There were rough patches, but nothing any normal teenage relationship doesn't go through. We were so in love, but I suppose even the strongest of love can’t save someone from themselves.

It was normal enough. We moved to New York two years ago. We decided to get separate apartments like we'd always planned. Though I would've been completely satisfied living together, Daisy had always liked her independence and space. So while I attended NY Medical College, she sold paintings, sketches, and anything art related from her home. I was often jealous of the easy life she led as I dragged my book bags up the stairs to her sixth floor apartment.

I noticed the changes about six months ago. I'm not sure what caused them. Did something happen she didn't tell me about?

The first sign was her refusal to eat normally. It started off with little things. First claiming to hate foods she'd previously liked. Then refusing to eat healthy amounts of what she would tolerate. Eventually, I don't think she was even eating five hundred calories a day.

I tried everything. I cooked, I brought takeout, I took her out. Nothing. I ordered, screamed, begged, and sobbed. Nothing. Daisy just turned away from my emotions and back to her paintings. She always said it wasn't her fault. What wasn't her fault?!

Then came the mirrors. It seemed like every time I visited there was a new one. Tacked up lopsided, leaning against a wall, and even on top of the refrigerator. Not only that, but her paintings began taking on a sinister theme. Twisted limbs and dark shadows seemed to reoccur the most.

Everything came crashing down the day I forced myself into the apartment. She hadn't been answering my calls all day, but I'd been unable to get over there until late because I had work. It had been almost three weeks since I'd been inside her home. She kept claiming to have some masterpiece she was working on that I couldn't see. I had reluctantly agreed to give her privacy.

That was the biggest mistake I have ever made.

When I arrived on October 11 and received no answer at the door, I got a spare key from the building manager and let myself in. The sight I met was horrifying.

Daisy was sitting in the middle of her studio apartment, naked and bleeding. She was surrounded by her blonde hair (stained pink by blood) and shards of mirror. Muttering about darkness and rocking, she continued to carve line after line into every inch of available skin. She didn't notice me. Since October 12, 2015, Daisy Todd has been a patient at the New York State Psychiatric Institute.

It's been 3 years. _______________________________

PROGNOSIS: Based on observations, Ms. Todd appears to suffer from Disorganized and Paranoid Schizophrenia. Hospitalization is recommended, but not required. Patient is being prescribed Clozapine, an antipsychotic.

_______________________________

My baby came back today. They haven't let her come since I tried to paint on the wall. (Silly Daisy, you're not a child. You should know better than to paint on the walls. Badbadbad.)

She holds my hand for a long while, a faraway look in her eye. Is she tired of our Mondays together?

"No, darling, I'm not. It's just..." She doesn't finish. I feel quite curious, maybe even worried. Doesn't she love me anymore?

"You know I do. I promised forever didn't I?" Her eyes are red. Were they that way when she arrived? I cannot remember.

My mind is spinning. Maybe she doesn't want my forever anymore. Someone else has come along, I'm sure of this. My baby darling dear.

I shake my head, trying to bump the silly thoughts outoutout. They make my Melody's eyes water. My onion-like thoughts.

I wish I were better. I just don't know how.

I'll try harder.

_______________________________

Daisy Todd Case No.: 446, 7058 Date of Birth: 9/7/1992 Admission Date: 10/12/15 Release Date: 4/7/19

_______________________________

It's Monday but it feels different. The door is still open and Melody is already inside.

The doctor comes in, the head wizard. His cheeks are red and his expression flustered. "I don't really think this is wise..."

"I've already signed the papers." Melody seems determined. I can't imagine what about. Maybe she's trying to get the maidens to paint my room a different color. Yellow perhaps? How pleased I would be.

Suddenly, my icicle handcuffs are gone, my feet are on the floor and Melody is wrapping a coat around my shoulders. A coat!

But that's not all! I'm leaving the igloo, out the door and into the...is that sun? Oh, sunlight indeed! The colors! It is spring after all! I survived the harsh winter.

"Yes you did, honey," Melody tells me rather tiredly. "We're going home now."

_______________________________

Home.

Such a simple word with such a grand meaning.

Here the walls are all different colors. I'm led through the kitchen. Royal blue. Shown the bathroom. Pumpkin orange. Introduced to the living room. Forest green. And last, our bedroom. Crayon yellow.

This is true love indeed.

I peek cautiously around every corner I'm shown. No mirrors. No shadow figures can get me here. Not really. Not quite.

Though I've spent many a Monday in bed, the first thing we do in our new home is sleep. Lying on the bed curled together, her nose pressed into my hospital hair, feels foreign yet familiar. Like a long, lost memory. You never forget how to ride a bike, you know. I suppose this is the same thing.

As I drift away, comforted by the arms locked around my waist and the warm breath on my shoulder, I can feel Melody shaking.

"You'll be okay, baby. Maybe not the same as before, but it'll work. I'll fix you. We never even have to leave this bed if you don't want to. Anything to make you happy and alright. Apple cider and donuts everyday if you like. We can paint all over the walls or watch every movie from the video store or read every book you’ve never read. Oh my poor darling, nothing matters except that you're back with me. In my arms, safe..."

Sobs wrack her body. I roll over and press my face into her neck. Squeezing tighter, I mutter softly how lovely yellow the room is and float into safe oblivion.

_______________________________

Home has rules:

1. Must take my white pill at proper times. 2. DO NOT SKIP TAKING IT. 3. Must eat my required three meals a day. 4. No mirrors may be purchased or brought into the apartment. 5. No bodily harm may be done to myself. 6. No putting myself down. 7. Privileges such as: driving, working, leaving the house, and painting must be earned. 8 All cleaning supplies and sharp utensils are to be kept locked away. No snooping. 9. Must call Melody immediately if anything happens while she's away. 10. Must attend therapy appointment weekly.

_______________________________

Melody has spent the first week home with me. She took work off. Oddly, I don't remember her having a job when I entered the snow world. But I don't mention this. I don't think I want to know the answer.

But today is the first day I'm to be left alone. Melody seems more nervous than I. Silly baby. She writes down her cell phone and pager number on four different sticky notes and posts them around the apartment, in case something happens and I can't get to one of the other three.

I laugh quietly and push her gently out, "I'll be fine, promisepromise." She runs her hands through her long hair several times, but eventually leaves.

I sit on the couch. And wait.

I wait for them to come. My painful lovers.

They don't. And I believe I might be safe.

_______________________________

Life goes on softly for several months. I eat leftover toast when I get up and paint for several hours after. I avoid looking in corners and focus on my work, the task at hand.

My paintings are different now. I no longer paint severed arms, legs and heads. Or the blood that flows so freely below the softsoft skin. I pretend that I don't want to paint the shadows. Instead, I paint trees, leaves, and oceans.

I do not paint snow.

In the evenings, Melody makes dinner, often refusing my help. I've never been any good at cooking. Or anything related to kitchens really. Even Koolaid is almost too complicated for me.

Afterwards, we watch TV and make deadpan jokes about the ridiculous shows. Melody writes medical reports and I read fantasy books. Sometimes I consider looking for jobs, but then the cold fear washes through me and I press deeper into my novel.

I don't want to go out there, especially by myself. I'd be so open to attack. All those...the shadows. The creeping bodies and reaching rough hands. I don't tell this to Melody.

Everything went smoothly for a while.

But it wasn't meant to last.

_______________________________

I am pacing. Anxiety racing through my body.

I've broken a rule. Two actually.

I've stopped taking the little white pill. Nine days now. It was making me sick, you see. Blocking the reality and my creativity.

Except that the shadows are back. Squeezing through the cracks of the doors, the windows, the closets.

That's the difference. They stay trapped on the other side of the mirror if you don't know they're there. But once you do, it releases them. Freed from their glass prisons, they creepcrawlscrape their way towards you.

Why? What did you do? You looked in the mirror too long, that's what. It's your own fault. You deserved this, you baddirtywhore.

I was only walking home, took the alley shortcut. Dirty. Pretty girl. Out they came. Handshandshands. Ruined my shirt, my skirt. Slut. How pretty I was that evening. Your fault. The mirror. Shouldn't have looked into the mirror for so long after. Vunerable. Beauty. They saw my soul, tried to have it. It's mineminemine. Go away.

Go away. away. away. away.

_______________________________

Daisy's acting strange. Sometimes, I think I hear her talking to herself. It's indistinct, but still. I've checked her pills, but she still seems to be taking them normally.

I don't know what to do. I'm so scared. I don't want to lose her again. I don't think I can bear spending every evening in that hospital again. Watching her deteriorate on that impersonal bed, in that impersonal room.

I'll call the doctor in the morning.

_______________________________

REPORT UPDATE: 12/21/19

Patient's girlfriend, Melody Artem reported recent unusual behavior. Ms. Todd seems to be withdrawing into herself and is displaying alarming signs. Talking to herself, depressing paintings, strange bruises and scratches, and weight loss. Patient appears to be continuing to take prescribed medicine.

Ms. Artem works long hours and cannot watch Ms. Todd constantly. The hospital is considering revoking Ms. Artem's custody rights if Ms. Todd becomes further unstable.

_______________________________

I found a mirror. Hidden behind a photoframe in the hallway. I knew they were getting in somehow. Their doorway.

This time, I'll stop them. Stop the hands that touch.

I willwillwill.

Daisy the hero. Blood soaked beautiful hero.

_______________________________

It's been about three weeks now since Daisy started changing. I've tried to ignore it, but I can hear her chanting in the bathroom again. It's frightening.

"Daisy?" I'm knocking softy on the bathroom door, trying the keep the fear from my voice. "You alright, baby? Can I bring you anything?"

No answer.

I try the handle. Locked. Shit. _______________________________ I've stolen the mirror from behind the photo. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.

Close. Red. Dark is creeping. Do you see it? Slipping beneath the door? The tub is filling up behind me. Black. The midnight beast. I ignore it, I'm on a mission.

SuperheroDaisy.

_______________________________

She's humming. Humming Spiderman. What the hells going on?!

Walking to the bedroom, I begin pulling open drawers, searching for the bathroom key. When I fail to locate it in my dresser, I turn to hers. Dread washes over me. I begin pulling open the drawers, removing shirts, socks, shorts.

A pile of pills hidden between her underwear. Her Clozapine. That explains alot. And beneath her sweatpants...

"Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

My head whips around. I choke on a scream.

"Pretty isn't it? I used to watch 'Snow White' constantly as a child. Sometimes I dream about the wishing well." She's smiling widely, no fear in her eyes, only triumph.

In her hand she's clutching the sharp remains of the only mirror in the whole apartment. It's covered in blood. Across her arms she's made long gashes. Her shirt is torn and the scars from before have been ripped open. Her bare legs are almost completely covered in red, pale skin nearly gone from view. Slices trace her facial features, almost artistically.

The most noticeable thing about my horrifying Daisy however, is the pride radiating off her in waves. She's proud of what she's done. More proud of this disaster than of any painting she's ever sold. Almost as if she's won something. That's the most frightening thing of all.

"Come on h-honey, let's go get you cleaned up," my voice is shaking uncontrollably.

She's shaking her head, frowning. "I'm fine, babydoll. All better. See?" She spreads her arms wide and spins, not seeming to notice the blood staining the carpet in the process. "I actually just wanted to lie down for a few minutes. Just a few. Please?"

"I..." What do I say? "After a shower, alright?"

I convince Daisy to bathe. She doesn't seem to notice the cuts or feel any pain from them.

Afterwards we lay down in bed. I'm shaking and scared, but this is still my Daisy and though she hurt herself, she won't hurt me. I'll take her back to the hospital in the morning; it's the only thing to do. There's no hope. But for now I just want to enjoy my last night with her. God, I love her so.

"Hold me?" Daisy's green eyes are pleading and scared. I do. Outside, snow begins to fall.

#karii lynn #the ballad of candybomb & grief #Snow White Mondays #lgbtq #mental hospital #mental health #true love

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parttimehuman · 7 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday, Isak!

Isak was waken by the gentle stroking of his bare arm. Long, pale fingers were tracing invisible patterns on his cool skin, immediately making him feel warm and safe, even though he was still half asleep. He felt his boyfriend breathe warm air against his neck. Isak couldn´t remember how he´d ever been able to sleep without Even by his side, or half on top of him, to be exact. Even had incredibly long limbs, even in comparison to Isak, who wasn´t exactly short, either. Without meaning to, he always stretched his arms and legs out as soon as he was asleep, occupying almost the entire bed with his long body. At some point, Isak had gotten used to the random body parts resting on his. They reminded him that Even was there, right there, in the same bed where Isak used to toss and turn sleeplessly before Even had entered his life. Back then, something clearly had been missing to him, even though he hadn´t known what. It wasn´t until the first time he shared his bed with Even the night of their very first kiss, that he realised that this had been it. IT. How could he have been walking the same earth as Even for more than seventeen years, craving him a little more with every passing day, but not knowing? It seemed ridiculous now. There was only one person in all the existing parallel universes to complete him and it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even went from caressing Isak´s arm to touching his chest. Isak shivered. This was one of the most sensitive parts of his body, especially to Even´s touch, and Even was perfectly aware of it. One half of Isak wanted to go back to sleep to get a couple of hours of recovery from the previous day before he´d have to get up for school in the morning, but the other half was slowly coming to the realization what was going on. It was not unusual for Even to become a little affectionate in the middle of the night when something was keeping him awake, but this was not one of those instances. It must be shortly after midnight. So it was Wednesday now. Wednesday, the 21st of June 2017. Isak´s 18th birthday. He should have known Even would stay up until midnight to properly wish him a happy birthday after he´d caught the man of his life texting secretly and hiding stuff in the kitchen cupboard and generally being pumped as fuck the whole week. There was probably a string quartet waiting outside of their bedroom. Isak couldn´t help but smile at that thought, letting Even see he was awake now.

Even´s heart started beating even faster when Isak turned his head towards him with a wide and endlessly beautiful smile on his delicate lips. Even after eight months with this boy, the sight of his face still caused Even´s emotions to blow up like fireworks, bright and loud and colourful into the dark sky of a Norwegian summer night. When Isak pressed himself into Even´s body and nuzzled their noses together, greeting Even in the language of eskimo kisses that he spoke better than all the eskimos in the northern polar region combined, Even forgot everything he had wanted to say to him, so he bumped his nose back into Isak´s gently while taking the boy´s face in his big hands. "Look at me, baby," he finally managed to say. Isak opened his eyes and Even was lost in green that he couldn´t actually see in the dark, but that was engraved in his brain permanently. "Well, I just forgot my line because of your dazzling beauty," Even admitted, which made Isak laugh and perk his eyebrows in expectation, "but I wish you the happiest of happy birthdays, mannen i mitt liv." Isak´s smile grew wider at that, exposing the adorable little gaps between his teeth. "I love you," Even added while caressing Isak´s cheeks with his thumbs. "I love you too," Isak whispered in return, "thank you, Even."

"You ready for your first kiss as an adult?", Even asked suggestively. This question didn´t require an actual answer, Isak decided. He was always ready to be kissed by Even. Every second of every minute of every hour ever since they´d met. So he simply brought their lips together, pulling Even closer by the smooth hair in his neck. He practically melted into the heat of Even´s mouth, trembling at the sensation of a strong but soft hand wandering down his spine. When Even pulled back, he groaned his complaint into the dark of the room. "Just one moment," Even laughed, before he suddenly lit a single candle in his hands. He held it in front of Isak´s face, so that Isak could see Even´s face and long neck and visible collarbones illuminated by the small flame. He stopped a minute to admire the view before him. It was fucking perfect.

"Make a wish," Even instructed. Isak took a deep breath in order to blow out the candle but then froze. He exhaled slowly through his nose and locked eyes with Even. "I don´t know what to wish for," he said calmly, leaving Even a little irritated, "I already have you." "Don´t be cheesy, baby," Even replied, "there´s always something you can wish for." "Is there?", Isak argued, "I didn´t really wish for anything on my last birthday," he started to explain, "but since then I´ve become friends with the boys, I´ve made up with Eva and I´ve found myself a true guru for life. I´m best buds with Sana now and I´m working on the thing with my parents, too. I´m not afraid to say that I´m gay anymore. I´ve learnt that Jonas will always have my back. I met you. I´ve fallen in love. I know what it means to truly live now, to be real. I´ve been having the best time in my life with you. I can sleep at night again, because I know that not matter how hard it may get, it´s all worth it. You´re worth it. Don´t you see, Even? I don´t need a wish, because there´s nothing about my life right now that I´d ever want to change."

"Shit, you literally just turned eighteen and you´re already being a total wise ass," Even joked and then turned a little more serious, "I know what you mean, though." He carefully placed the candle on the nightstand beside him and wrapped his arms around Isak to pull him close. He breathed Isak in. He couldn´t believe this boy was real. "You know, I, too, have been having the greatest time of my life since you came along. I always thought I was fated to be alone for the rest of my life. Well, not physically alone, but lonely, you know. With all those people around me but noone to truly get me. To understand who I am and who I´m not. Noone to ever know my dreams and encourage me to follow them. Noone to get me to feel something real." Even looked down at Isak, who was listening attentively while drawing circles on Even´s belly. He kept talking, because for some reason the words just kept flowing from his mouth. He considered it was time to pour his heart out entirely to Isak, who owned all of it anyways, who would forever own it. "I thought I was toxic to people, Isak. Especially to you, with everything that you had to go through before we even met. I was just a little too crazy to be understood or even loved. I was trying to accept the fact that I would never find the one thing I was craving with all the tiny broken pieces of my heart. The matching puzzle piece. I was lost. And I started to feel like I didn´t want to be found anymore. I didn´t want to let myself hope."

Isak swallowed hard. He hadn´t expected their conversation to take such a serious turn. It broke his heart to think about Even´s pain again. He´d been somewhat aware of Even´s struggles since he´d found out about his bipolar disorder. At least he had realised back then that Even wasn´t all that casual, light-hearted, lively and optimistic guy he´d first appeared to be. He placed little kisses all over Even´s cheek as a sort of comfort. Even felt like he had to object somehow. "What I´m trying to say is, I don´t feel like that anymore," he explained, "and that is thanks to you, baby." Isak smiled and exhaled some air against Even´s neck. "Seriously, Isak, I can´t put into words what you mean to me. How much you´ve changed my life. Like in a damn fucking movie you came to save me. I hope you know this is not some Princess-Vivian-shit-talking again. You´ve saved me. You´ve showed me what love means. You´ve showed me what it feels like to be loved. You´re the most wonderful person in this universe and in all the others. I love you. You´re so smart and funny and kind and beautiful and I love you. You´re the man of my life, because it wouldn´t be a real life without you."

Isak laughed out loud and leaned over Even to blow out the candle on the night stand. In the suddenly dark room, Even wanted to know, "have you changed your mind about that wish you said you didn´t need?" "I have," Isak replied, "I think I could use a less sappy boyfriend." "Nah," Even grunted, "you love your sappy boyfriend." "I love my sappy boyfriend," Isak confirmed, even though Even already knew. Everything Isak did or said was done or said with love. There wasn´t a doubt about it in Even´s mind.

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If you want to read the whole thing (some smut following), please do so here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11265081

Hope you enjoy :)

#happy birthday isak valtersen #isak valtersen #even bech næsheim #evak #skam #skam season 4 #fanfic

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simsstuffmarie · 7 years ago

Text

100 Questions To Invade My Personal Life

I haven’t been tagged by anyone but I just thought I’d give it a go as I’m bored! Found this on @angelisims Simblr 😁

1. What's your middle name, and do you like it? My middle name is Marie and I do quite like it actually...it's pretty common lol

2. Are you artistic? Yeah I love doodling and just drawing random things occasionally

3. Have you had your first kiss? Duhhhhhh! I have a boyfriend!

4. What is your life goal? To be successful in my personal goals

5. Do you have any experiences with a famous person? I met Princess Diana when I was little, and a few years ago when I was doing my family tree I found out that my 5th cousin is Michael Douglas lol

6. Do you play any sports? Only if sleeping is classed as a sport?!?!

7. What's your worst fear? Being unhappy and unsuccessful....oh and spiders and heights

8. Who's your biggest inspiration? Myself....never aspire to be anybody else because it will never make you happy

9. Do you have any cool talents? Not really....I can fit my fist in my mouth! Does that count?

10. are you a morning person? HELL NO!!!

11. How do you feel about pet names? Me and Will have them....so I don’t really care. I never really call people by their proper names anyway 12. Do you like to read? Yes. But I rarely get time to sit down with a good book without being interrupted by someone 13. Name a list of shows that have changed your life. Grey's Anatomy - I’ve loved that show since episode one Band Of Brothers/ The Pacific - Just amazing True Blood - Yeassss Vampire Diaries - Ermmmmm....is their one member of that cast who isn’t hot?!

14. Do you care about your follower count?

I’m not overly obsessed with it, but it gives me a warm fuzzy feeling when I see I’ve got a new follower (love you all btw!!)

15. What's the best dream you've had?

I can’t really remember my dreams

16. Have you ever kissed someone of your same gender?

I always kiss my girlfriends....not in a passionate way, just a little peck! Especially when we’ve been out for the night haha

17. Do you have any pets?

Not personally, but I treat my boyfriends' dog like he is mine

18. Are you religious?

Nope

19. Are you a people person?

I get a bit anxious and stressed out/ short tempered if there is a lot of people around in large crowds

20. Are you considered popular?

I don't think so..............

21. What is one of your bad habits?

Self-doubt

22. What's something that makes you feel vulnerable

Being around people who “look better” and are in better physical shape than me

23. What would you name your children?

Girl - Raynor Boy - Finn

24. Who's your celebrity crush?

Tom Hardy, Kellan Lutz, Charlie Hunnam, Shemar Moore, Jamie Dornan, Henry Cavill, Tyson Beckford.....I could actually go on forever!!

25. What's your best subject?

Human Biology, physiology and anatomy

26. Dogs or cats?

Both

27. Most-used social media besides Tumblr?

Facebook

28. Best friends name

Vikki, Hayley and Nikki

29. Who does your main family consist of?

Me, my mum and my older brother

30. Chocolate or sugar

Chocolate

31. Have you ever been on a date?

Several

32. Do you like rollercoasters?

Only if they have over-the-head supports....not just the lap bars

33. Can you swim?

Yes, but not very well

34. What would you do in the event of an apocalypse?

My boyfriend and me actually always have this discussion and have it all worked out! There's an old prison near where we live and an abandoned army base just up the hill - and the town centre is only 10min walk away! Perfect!

35. Have you struggled with any kind of mental disorder

Anxiety - increasing at the moment.

36. Are your parents together?

Nope - divorced when I was really little

37. What's your favourite colour?

Any warm colour

38. What country are you from/do you live in?

ENGLAND!!!

39. Favourite singer?

P!NK, Adele, James Arthur

40. Do you see yourself being famous some day?

Nope

41. Do you like dresses?

Yeah, as long as it isn't too tight

42. Favourite song right now?

Thunder - Imagine Dragons Skin - Rag’n’Bone Man

43. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

No, if you’re old enough to do it, you should be mature enough to talk about it.

44. How old were you when you first got your period?

I was quite late starting. I was 15.

45. Have you ever shot a gun?

Yeah

46. Have you ever done yoga?

Yep

47. Are you a horror girl?

I don’t mind them, but they can all be quite similar

48. Are you good at giving advice?

Great at giving it. Crap at taking it!

49. Tell us a story about your childhood.

My dad used to be in the army and we lived several places. When we lived in Cyprus we used to visit the old ruins and amphitheatre and there were loads of lizards that used to hide in the cracks of the old buildings. I decided I wanted one of them to take home so I grabbed hold of its tail, but it was stuck and I kept pulling and pulling and eventually the tail actually came off of the lizard! Immediately I started crying.

One Christmas 9also when we lived in Cyprus actually) I wanted snow on the Christmas tree, but we didn't have fake snow, so I decided to use my mum's expensive face cream and smothered the tree in cream.

The same Christmas, me and my brother woke up before my mum and dad and decided to “sneak” into the front room to open the presents. When we got to the front room door, the handle had been taken off the door and closed, so we decided to go around the back door, which was also locked. Then tried looking through the windows but they had put bin bags all over the windows and drawn the curtains. We went back in and decided to sit my the front room door until they woke up, but we fell asleep and they found us asleep by the door on the floor.

50. How are you doing today?

Yeah, I’m OK. Thanks for asking

51. Were you a cute kid?

Newborn - yea I think I was Toddler - I was cheeky Child - Scrawny Teen - awkward

52. Can you dance?

When I’ve had a drink

53. Is there anything you do that you can't remember ever not doing?

Breathing? Eating? Drinking?

54. Have you ever dyed your hair?

Yeah quite a few times actually, just not for a long long time now

55. What colour are your eyes?

They change depending on my mood - green/blue/hazel/grey

56. What's your favourite animal?

Hedgehogs - I want one

57. Have you ever made a huge fool of yourself?

All the time!!!

58. Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

My mum and I are close (even though she annoys the hell out of me) But me and my dad not really because he left when I was young. We still always saw him, but it sometimes feels like I don't know him properly...IDK....

59. Do you have good friends?

The most amazing friends....

60. Are you close with anyone of the lgbtq+ group?

I know loads of different people...I don’t really label anyone. If you’re decent to me then I’m cool with you...

61. What's your favourite class?

I don’t really have class at university....

62. List all the tv shows you are watching.

Love Island, Big Brother, OITNB, Sons Of Anarchy, Prison Break, Benidorm, Grey’s Anatomy

63. Are you organised?

I try to be

64. What was the last movie you saw? Opinion?

Split....it was actually quite good

67. Which tv character do you relate to most?

I have no clue

68. What are some things that stand between you and complete happiness?

Finances

69. If you received enough money to never need to work again, what would you spend your time doing?

Travelling the world

70. What would you change about your life if you knew you would never die?

Nothing....because every decision I made before has made me who I am now

71. What would you do differently if you knew that no one was judging you?

I don’t care if nobody judges me

72. If you could start over, what would you do differently?

Nothing

73. Would you break the law to save a loved one?

Definitely

74. When was the last time you travelled somewhere new?

Today

75. When you think of your home, what immediately comes to mind?

My bed

76. What have you done to pursue your dreams lately? How about today?

I got off my arse and got myself into university

77. What did you want to be when you were a kid?

Everything! Nurse, Air Hostess, Vet, Super Model, Ballerina, Solider, Farmer, Roman, Pop Star, Barbie, Nightclub Owner, Architect, Interior Designer.....

78. If you dropped everything to pursue your dreams, what would you be risking?

Nothing...because real friends and family support you no matter what.

79.When did you not speak up, when you know you really should have?

That's really personal and I don’t wanna talk about it.....sorry.....

80. Describe the next five years of your life, and your plans, in a single sentence

Finish my degree, get a job, buy my own house, get married and have children

81. What would happen if you never wasted another minute of your life, what would that look like?

Skinny

82. If you could live forever, how would you spend eternity?

Seeing new things, trying new food, living!

83. How would you spend a billion dollars?

Same as above - maybe invest half of it and buy a new house and treats for my closest

84. If you could time travel, would you go to the past or the future?

Future - there is no point in trying to change the past as it got you to the place you are now....Live and Learn

85. What motivates you to succeed?

My family, friends and boyfriend

86. What dream that you’ve had has resonated with you the most?

It was an awful nightmare - about my brother and mum being murdered in front of me

87. Would you rather live in the city or the woods? Why?

The woods - because it's peaceful

88. Do you believe in life after death

Yes

89. What teacher inspired you the most? How did they?

They all thought I’d fail. Love proving people wrong. It makes me fight for everything

90. What’s your fondest childhood memory?

Living in Cyprus

91. If you could have dinner with any one person, living or dead, who would they be and why?

My Grandad - I miss the old grumps

92. What would you have to see to cry tears of joy?

Some of these really beautiful videos about people helping in the time of need, really romantic marriage proposals, and probably my first ultrasound scan if I was pregnant

93. What is the hardest lesson you had to learn in life?

You need to make a decision for yourself. Never be pressurised into it. It may be a tough one to start with and it will probably make you cry for years and years to come. But somewhere it was the right decision for you.

94. What do you think happens after we die?

Life carries on....

95. What would you do if you could be invisible?

Sneak into loads of celebrities houses because I’m nosey

96. What's something you can't do no matter how hard you try?

Roll my tongue and roll my R’s

97. Would you want to choose the sex and appearance of your offspring?

Nope - they'd be perfect no matter what

98. How did your first crush develop?

Not very well lol

99. Is there a feeling you are trying to ignore? What is it?

Anxiousness and regret

100. Do you live or do you just exist?

At the moment I just exist - but I’m trying to live

I’d like to nominate people, but it is actually really long, and took me forever to do. So if you fancy doing it, just tag me because I’d love to read them all.

#nonsims #personal #100 questions

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