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emilybeemartin · 6 months

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Inktober Days 28-31

Day 28: Sparkle

When people ask me which national park I've worked in is my favorite, I have a diplomatic answer. They're all different! Yellowstone is never boring, Glacier is visually stunning. But Great Smoky Mountains? Great Smokies is home. It was my first park, even before Yellowstone--I was brought on as a summer intern in 2010, and it set the course for my whole career onward.

Where other national parks trade in dramatic grandeur, Great Smokies offers a more intimate beauty. The pale pops of Catawba rhododendron blossoms in the dark forest. The squiggle of a spotted salamander in dewy moss. The first flush of red on the autumn slopes. The Christmas-tree perfume of the balsam firs at high elevation.

But some of the most special things to me are the fireflies. The secret of the synchronous fireflies has trickled out, and now people flock to see them in late spring, flashing in coordinated laser light shows. My absolute favorites are the blue ghost fireflies, which glow a moonlight-blue, without blinking, and drift a few feet above the ground. On a dark, quiet evening, it's the single most magical sight I've ever seen. So magical I built a whole fantasy system around them in my first novel, Woodwalker.

Day 29: Massive

There are so many parks whose scale simply can't be appreciated in photos. The yawning chasm of the Grand Canyon. The looming summits of Grand Teton. The plunging valleys of Glacier. And the massive span and height of sequoia trees.

Though this is a purely American tree, I've only experienced them abroad, when I lived in New Zealand. A short walk away from my student flat was a beautiful botanical garden, and I was amazed to find a grove of sequoias growing there. I greeted them like compatriots, foreigners in a faraway land. I visited them often and knew someday I needed to visit their cousins on their home turf. Like my fixation on Olympic National Park, I've frequently found myself plotting the drive from my Rocky Mountain jobs to the closest parks of sequoias and redwoods. I'll get there, one day.

Day 30: Rush

Yosemite—the rush of history toward the riches of the west, the rush of visitors in the valley, the rush of air through climbers’ ropes, the rush to protect endangered natural spaces. But to me, no homage to Yosemite is complete without rushing water. Plunging waterfalls, rivers foaming with spring melt, frigid banks piled with frazil ice--- this park sings with the power of water.

Day 31: Fire

We end Inktober 2023 in Hawai‛i Volcanoes National Park, a place where fire, earth, and water all meld together. At first I picked this park simply because it fit the prompt, but as I did some research, I realized how fitting it is to end this month-long celebration of national parks here. Built into the management policies for Hawai‛i Volcanoes is the practice of ho‛okupu, the action of creating growth through chanting or offerings. As Huihui Kanehele-Mossman, Kumu Hula and Executive Director at Edith Kanaka‛ole Foundation, puts it:

“[Ho‛okupu] is not showing gratitude… it’s a recognition between you and the place… that you are present there in order to have an exchange—an equal exchange between you and the place.”

As park rangers, we’re faced with tangible reminders of degradation every day—past, present, and future—in things like the violent history of land theft, the tenacious grip of invasive species, and the looming consequences of climate change. It’s easy for rangers to view both ourselves and the visiting public as interlopers and invaders, capable of only destruction, a force to be managed and mitigated.

But we’re not. That same force that enables us to destroy also enables us to restore, grow, and create. And as Robin Wall Kimmerer discusses in Braiding Sweetgrass, humans shouldn’t consider ourselves mere intruders in natural spaces. We evolved alongside nature. We do belong in it, and it relies on our power and gentleness as much as we rely on it.

Even beyond that, national parks are human-created spaces, with human boundaries, roads, infrastructure, and patterns. We have to be involved with them. We have to view ourselves as an integral part of their wellbeing, an equal partner, and a force for good, or we risk losing them to sheer indifference.

“If you don’t have anything else to give to a place, give your voice.”

-Huihui Kanehele-Mossman

Thanks for traveling along with me on this journey through our national parks! I hope you have an autumn full of peace and purpose!

#31 days of national parks #inktober #national parks #great smoky mountains #sequoia kings canyon #yosemite #hawai'i volcanoes

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desires-of-chain · 3 months

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From the Archives - Good Little Prisoner

I actually wrote this just before the prompt for using the title sir came up, but I was too shy to immediately submit this for that in particular, opting for the focus to be commenting on the use of titles itself instead of just including it. This is also a bit more extreme than regular ol sex so it took a while to decide if I did wanna send it in fjdksj. I think this is still on par with other kinks welcome here in the end so... hope you enjoy?

- wizard anon

Content: afab reader (gendered body description but no pronouns), dom warriors, degradation, bondage, titles, roleplay elements (reader referred to as a prisoner as part of the degradation), begging, marking. Wordcount: 474

Warriors has you tied up with your hands behind your back and legs spread. He hadn't deigned to take your clothes off first, instead simply ripping them at the chest and the crotch to get at what he wants. It's left you feeling even more exposed than simply being naked, shaking as his breath ghosts over your skin. He's barely touched you at all, feather light glances of his fingers against your nipples and clit, nothing more than to make you twitch and plead.

"Captain, Captain... please, sir..." He's making you use his title, just to really drive home how in control he is. It turns you on to no end - you can feel how wet you are.

"Your voice sounds amazing when you beg." He whispers in your ear, and then he ghosts his hands across your clothed thighs. You whine and pull against your restraints. "Ah ah! What did I say? Only good prisoners get rewarded. Do you think you've been good?"

"Yes, yes, Captain, I've been good...!"

"Oh, have you? And how have you been good?" He grabs your chin and makes you hold eye contact. "Tell me."

"I... I didn't orgasm all week! Kept myself just for you, Captain."

He pretends to consider the information, smirking down at you when you whine impatiently.

"That is pretty good behaviour. Alright then - but you make sure you keep making those desperate little noises."

Two fingers gather the slick against your cunt and push inside at the same time, and you squeal. The smirk has not left his face, only growing when you writhe and moan his title as he begins stretching you open.

"Good little prisoner, so wet and pliant for me. At this rate, I'll never let you free - just keep you here to use full time like a toy." A third finger joins in pushing against your walls. “You'd like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nod frantically, unable to respond with the mind melting stimulation. The fingers pause knuckle deep inside.

“Use your words, prisoner.”

“Yes Captain, please, I'd like that!” You whine. Warriors leans down and sucks a hickey on the centre of your neck.

“There. Now everyone will know who you belong to.”

He pulls his fingers out suddenly and you buck and beg, but he completely ignores you in favour of untying his trousers and pulling his cock out. The head is red and weeping precum. You deliriously think about him making you suck him off while still tied up. He strokes himself languidly, watching you watch him - that smirk is still settled comfortably upon his lips.

“Now, I'll ask again: think you've been good enough for this?”

“Yes, Captain…”

Warriors cock meets your entrance. He cups your cheek.

“Say please, toy.”

“Please, sir! Fuck me!”

Warriors pushes in with one smooth motion, and you weep with pleasure.

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#submission #.bea answers #not my writing #link x reader #link x reader smut #smut #loz smut #🧙anon

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anxious-witch · 4 months

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holiday prompt you say? well well well, totally not based on my experiences

aheeem heeem

good ol’ jance (everyone’s favorite)

one of them offering a hot beverage, the other declining the offer. first one constantly being like “are you sure? you look cold”

I know I keep combining these, but some just fit so well! And I don't want to writing anything too short or repeat myself so! I hope this is fine, since I included both

Jan was having a bad day. His insomnia kicked in last night, which meant he didn't get much sleep. With Jere being over and Bojan's apartment for the holidays, the two of them kept constantly dragging the rest of them somewhere.

Because God forbid Jere didn't get the full experience with all of them around.

So here Jan was, after barely a few hours of sleep, standing by the ice rink. Freezing.

“Janči,” Nace said gently, “are you sure you don't want something to drink? Maybe mulled wine? Or hot chocolate?”

Jan set his jaw.

“No.”

Nace pursed his lips, giving him a worried once over. Jan knew he wasn't happy about how he dressed for the weather. He wore only a leather coat and a scarf that Nace wrapped around his neck at the last moment.

He wasn't that cold though. It was just sleep deprivation.

“You look cold.”

“I'm not.”

Nace sighed.

“Janči. Com'on.”

Jan crossed his arms over his chest.

“I'm tired, not cold.”

Nace reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Jan felt an overwhelming fondness wash over him, despite his annoyance.

“I am just trying to help.”

Jan grabbed his wrist when he tried to pull his hand back and kissed his palm. Nace's cheeks colored slightly.

“I know. Sorry, I am just tired.”

“Coffee might help?”

Jan snorted at his weak attempt.

“No. Unless you are offering to whisk me away from these idiots,” Jan quickly glanced at the ice rink, “I think I'll pass.”

Nace chewed on his lip and glanced at the ice rink. Bojan, Jere, Kris and Jure were there, Nace and Jan didn't join them due to Nace pulling a muscle in the gym recently. Jan didn't want to leave him alone and frankly, he felt like he'd be completely uncoordinated anyway.

Nace got up from their table and Jan curiously watched him as he got to the rink and waved their friends over. He saw him talk to Kris-Bojan and Jure were currently being chased by Jere across the rink-and then quickly come back.

“What was that about?”

“We are leaving. You are clearly tired and I did pull a muscle so…how about we just drive around and look at the lights? And then go home and watch a movie or something.”

Jan smiled warmly.

“I would like that.”

So they did. Nace drove, not trusting him not to get drowsy behind the wheel with the little sleep he got, and simply drove around.

Jan felt slightly like a cat, looking at all the bright lights and Christmas decorations of the houses. Nace drove slowly, so he could steal glances as well, but also the streets seemed to be mostly empty. Like that lull of the day where everyone was just content to stay where they were.

“Maybe we should buy the rooftop Santa for next year,” Nace mused, looking at one of the houses.

Jan laughed.

“And put it where? We live in an apartment!”

Nace shrugged, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

“Maybe in a living room. Igor would love him.”

Jan rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. Would love tearing it apart.”

It was Nace who laughed this time. They continued driving and commenting on the decorations, either approving or disapproving of the choice.

After a while, they both got tired and Nace began driving them home. Jan looked at him as they passed all the colorful lights and decorations once more, suddenly struck by how lucky he was. How thankful he was for Nace.

For the fact that they got to spend the holidays together.

“Nace?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, you know that, right?”

Nace carefully parked the car before turning to him and taking his hands in his.

“Of course I know. I love you too. Is everything okay?”

Jan nodded.

“Yeah-yeah I just. Maybe I don't say it enough. But I really do. Thank you for this. Everything, actually.”

Nace kissed him. Jan was almost started by it, not expecting it. He kissed him back, melting into the kiss. Then Nace gently pulled away.

“You don't have to thank me for that. And I know you love me, you just express it in different ways and that's okay. Although I won't complain if you say it more often, either.”

Jan snorted.

“Alright then. I love you.”

Then he kissed him again. He could say many more things. He could tell him that he loved him and he loved spending time with him every day. That he couldn't wait to spend every holiday and special occasion with him, along with all the ordinary days and love him throughout all of them.

Jan might still tell him another day. For now, he'd be content kissing him and accepting the fact that despite all of it, he likely knew all that already.

#my writing #jance #joker out #christmas prompts

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bloggedanon · 8 months

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TOY COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN. DM IF INTERESTED, OR IF YOU JUST WANT TO DONATE.

Alright, listen up, folks.

My hours have been reduced to nothing for months now on account of disabilities I'm trying to get treated for, I got a med bill I wasn't expectin' in the mail, and now I'm woefully far from bein' able to pay for my upcoming psychiatrist appointment, which I have to pay for by the 24th of this month. This one is really important because there's a strong probablility this one will be the one to prescribe me some meds that just might enable me to be able to acually take care of myself (read: actually function at all) for the first time in my life. I'm prolly gonna need like $300 to cover the appointment. I ain't askin' y'all to help me for free, however.

I can sew together little pillow monster things. They have zipper mouths and button eyes. They're hand-sewn, from a pet-free home.

This is my oldest (and smallest) example. about 7" wide and tall. The ones I'm proposing to sell will be about 9" wide and tall.

Here are the buttons and (9) zippers I have available for this endeavor. (Sorry about the lighting.) Note the loops on the zipper pulls for easier zipping.

Uhh, those are soda can pull tabs in the corner. Ignore that, I'm procrastinating on working on a project.

In terms of fabric, I have fleece and flannel of various colors. 'S all preshrunk in a washer and dryer, but I don't have a good way to showcase or store fabric other than shoving it all into one plastic bag. That aside, here's the flannel I have:

(Dark blue, light blue, teal, white, space [small amount], and scales [purple, blue, and green scales, small amount])

And here's the fleece:

(Purple, red, orange, and black [small amount])

Note how I have more of some colors in one material or another than in others. This means certain body surface colors may not be possible due to material limitations. I have a whole bunch of thread colors, and just an overall abundance of thread tho 👍

These are custom made to order, and the production is paid in advance. You can do custom colors (body, front vs back color, the color of the inside of the mouth, whether or not you want it to have a tongue, number / color of eyes) and you can POTENTIALLY do other customizations. (Want it to have a ridge on its back like a cartoon dinosaur? Want me to give it horns? Want me to try to figure out how tassles work? Want it to have floppy, doofy, cow-lookin' ears? [I recommend fleece for these kinds of additions, trust me on this one.]) Shape alterations mmmmaayyyyy be possible, but that's pretty dubious. Bear in mind that any customizations / additions will likely drive priduction time wayyy up, and there are things I might not be able to do.

Shipping will be paid seperately, and at the time of shipping. I can't really afford to cover shipping, but also I have no earthly idea how to calculate shipping. I have a tiny scale at home now that I can use to weigh the finished product, but that's about it. These are gonna have to be personally taken to the post office, which means a lot of walking. I dunno, we'll figure it out.

This is all being said and shown in the interest of maximum transparency with this stuff. You will recieve update images with progress on your little monster dude, and you're gonna have to give feedback on the button placements and angles before I sew 'em on so that way I know I've got the look you want on it.

Payments are done over Paypal.

Base price: $35 USD + shipping

Comm slots open: 9

Customizations and additions will add to the price, but the extent to which it happens is (sort of) negotiable. Most customizations are going to be (sort of) experimental on my end, and hand sewing takes forever, especially when you have "everything magically is really hard and takes too long" disease.

If I hit my goal, I'll stop accepting donations. If all 9 commission slots are taken, I will update this post with a good ol'-fashioned pinned reblog and close commissions AND donations. Note that I can only work on one pillow monster at a time, and that it's on a first-come-first-serve basis. If I'm working on one and you want to commission one, I'll let you know and ask if you wanna wait for it. You'll get a number (1-9) to signify whose order I need to do next.

In the meantime, I need to go pop out and sell some blood plasma, probably. 🤡

#commisions open #comms #commisions #toy commissions #mutual aid #(?)#long post

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salvadorbonaparte · 6 months

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About the courier thing. I looked at the Lufthansa website would you recommend it if someone had never flown before? Like I'd need to get a passport for this, only traveled by car/ ship so far.

About picking the deliveries up and delivering them, if I live in town A and the company is in City B do I have to go there to pick it up? Will it be at the airport? Bc the website made it look like you get the message that they need you, then you basically that instant jump in your car drive to the company drive to the airport and jump into the plane, land jump into a taxi and go to the place you need to be.

My concerns are that I'll only get reimbursed for things like the taxi bc they need me to have an international CreditCard... Could you describe how tight these times are? Like what happens if I don't have the time to catch the booked flight bc they booked it too tightly for it to be realistic?

When I land in other countries, what exactly is common place there? Will I be expected and picked up or will I have to find a taxi to the company myself?

If there isnt an instant flight back, do they pay/book or only reimburse you for finding a hotel/ hostel? What happens if you miss your flight back?

You can probably tell lol but I'd be interested but I'm pretty anxious about all the stuff they don't specify on their website. Like I'm not willing to risk having to pay for a flight back home from the US because there was a traffic jam and I missed my booked flight

Also, talking about safety lol, would you recommend this to a woman? The people that left glowing reviews about how great the job is only had masculine names afaik.

And do they give you the info you need for the countries you travel to? Like if I, as a woman, would travel to a country that requires me to wear something to hide my hair would they tell me that? Or would uncultured little ol' me have to frantically google what kinda clothes I would be able to wear? And what kinda attire would they expect at the companies you're supposed to deliver to? Like if I look like shit after a 10 hour flight and deliver a contract or a designer dress they aren't gonna kill me right?

Also the website said to always have a light bag ready which is fair but if I show up with a small case that I wouldn't be able to take with me to my seat are they gonna say I'm taking too much time while I wait for my baggage?

Hello! Thank you for reaching out. I am going to try and answer these questions to the best of my ability, but I've only flown two missions and both were the same company and destination, so I am not an expert on this.

You'd definitely have to get a passport. I don't know if I'd recommend it because I don't know you personally. I flew for the first time when I was two and flew alone for the first time when I was five. I lived abroad for a while and had to fly back and forth between semesters. I know my local airport like the back of my hand and feel pretty comfortable flying. OBC missions can be really stressful, and never having flown before could add to that stress. On the other hand, maybe you thrive under that stress. Maybe it can be an adventure.

The pickup location can differ afaik. I had to pick up the cargo both times at a company close to the airport but I've also heard of cases where the cargo is in a different city and you're supposed to pick it up or where it is picked up at the airport. Same for the drop off. Both of my missions were airplane parts so my drop off was outside the airport. I heard that occassionally you'd have to take a taxi to some company but they would tell you about the drop off location or at least whom to contact once you land. International airports always have taxis outside and usually public transport so you should be fine as long as you have an address. You have to be flexible. The timing is also different. I once had to cancel a request because they wanted me to be in Hamburg within an hour (the high-speed train alone takes longer than an hour). Yesterday I got the message in the early afternoon and the flight was in the evening so I had time to prepare. You don't have to answer requests if you don't have time or think you can't manage the pickup time. They usually message everyone on their list who lives in a certain radius and then whoever answers first and can do it gets the mission. If you're on a mission and something goes horribly wrong, I guess you have to contact the company and sort it out together with them. I have no idea how that works because that never happened to me luckily. I only accept missions that I think are realistic and I guess if I were to miss a plane or connection they'd have to rebook me since I am the one with the cargo and finding someone else that late in the process would be even more expensive? I don't know what happens if you miss your flight back and I assume it depends on if it is your fault or something unforseen.

About the money thing I think it depends on the company again. I flew with Wings Onboard the last two times and they book your flight and hotel so you only need to cover things like transport, roaming, excess baggage if it comes up. Having a visa card or similar is really important for this and also having a little money on it for emergencies. For example, I paid 80 Euro for taxis plus 130 for excess baggage this time that I will get reimbursed. Last time I only paid like 2 Euro for a parking ticket and that was it. You need to be prepared for emergencies but you should get everything but food reimbursed.

About the gender thing, I am seen as a woman and I am pretty short and I did not accept a mission last time because I felt uncomfortable flying to that country at night. In general, it can be dangerous as a woman everywhere so take the normal safety precautions and listen to your intuition if something seems dangerous. Other than safety, being a short female-perceived person has its upsides because my cargo was 30kg and men helped me carry it lol.

I received no cultural insights like that but I also flew to my neighbouring country so I don't know if they would tell you. I'd google just in case. What they will tell you however, at least Wings does, is if there is any visa or customs regulations you need to be aware of, which I think is even more vital. About clothes in general, since it is pretty spontaneous missions no one minded so far that I was wearing jeans and t shirts. Most of them never had to deal with OBCs so they are mostly just curious. You're not technically employed by them, you're just delivering something, and they care a lot more about the cargo than you.

I always have a little backpack packed, which is more practical than a case, because it can fit under your seat or in the overhead compartment. The important part is that it is small enough to be counted as hand luggage for most major airlines. If you have cargo that counts as hand luggage you can take it with you and maybe fit it in the bag. If the cargo is large enough for checked baggage you still have your essential things with you and can grab them quickly without having to wait for them too. The company will book your flight for you and will opt for the cheapest option, which is usually economy with either only hand luggage or hand luggage and one piece of checked luggage. As long as you have your phone, charger, money, passport, perhaps a pyjama and toothbrush and empty water bottle you should be fine.

In general, it can be stressful and you have to be flexible and spontaneous when things go wrong, but the past two missions I noticed that a courier is already so much cheaper and faster for them that small delays don't matter. I hurried so much to check out my cargo and go to the drop off point and when I called them they were like "both our cars are busy right now, it will take maybe 15 minutes" and then took over 30 minutes to arrive. As long as you make the flight and the cargo is safe they don't care if you took five minutes longer to find the exit or went to the bathroom. Five minutes longer still beats the time or money they'd have to put into other logistics solutions.

You can DM me for more questions and I can even send you some (censored) mission briefings if you want to know how much information you get. I hope this was helpful!

#asks

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eggcompany · 2 months

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Poor Vigilante

Matt shows up to the office, bruised and battered. He didn't think Karen was still in the office. She dresses his wounds and fixes him up in the gentlest way. Matt can't take the affection and kindess showed to him. Crying, breakdown, and some good ole cuddles help him through it.

AKA, Karen holds and cuddles a sobbing matt and takes good care of him

“Matt? What happened? You’re all beat up!” Karen said as she watched the man dig through his office. She had gone to pick up more paper and when she got back, Matt was shuffling through his file cabinet.

He was limping and his side was bloody. He had bruises on his face and his glasses were cracked. He quickly lifted his head up and smiled toward the door.

“Uh, someone tried to steal my wallet. I tried to stop them but that wasn’t a good idea.” He said lightheartedly. He lied straight through his teeth but it was kind of endearing how Karen tended to check on him.

“Do you know what they- sorry. Do you need help getting patched up? I can help you. I don’t want anything to get infected.” Karen said as she walked toward Matt, who had stood up and turned toward her. He shook his head and put his hands up to wave her off but before he could Karen was gently touching his cheek under where a piece of his glasses had broken off and stuck into his skin. Matt sighed and dropped his head.

“I can really handle it. Though they did break my cane. Um, would it be too much to ask you to show me home?” He asked. He knew Karen would have dogged him all night and all week if he hadn’t let her help someway or another. And he really did need help getting back to the apartment. His can had gotten broken while he was off fighting some traffickers, he usually had one in his office but unfortunately that one was missing.

“Of course! Yeah yeah of course. Hold on, I'll drive you there and I can just make sure you're okay.” Karen said as she grabbed her purse and hooked elbows with the lawyer. Matt tried to hide his limp as they made their way to the blonde’s car. His ankle was really killing him, probably sprained.

“Thank you Karen. But really you don’t need to worry, I can clean up by myself.” Matt said as his friend continued to support him and walk him to his couch.

“Oh C'mon lose the big bad man act. We all need a little TLC sometimes! Just go shower and I’ll get everything ready out here.” Karen said and bumped her hip lightly against his. She had watched the way he winced and cringed when he moved. She was certain that his side had been at least cut, it looked like it stopped bleeding but it could be worse than the small slice in the man’s button down shirt.

Matthew just mumbled out a ‘ fine’ before pulling off his shoes where he always put them and limping to the bathroom for a shower.

“Matt… you’re so… beat.” Karen gasped when the dark haired man stepped out from the bathroom, his body exposed except for the blue towel that covered him hip to just above his knees. He had scars spattered all across him. Small lines that lash all around his torso and gnarly black bruises, old cuts, yellowed bruises, and even a few scars that seemed to be caused by bones busting through skin. She walked up to him but Matt just rubbed the back of his neck and breathed out a laugh.

“I must look worse than I feel.” He said jokingly but Karen was already getting stirred up.

“These don’t look new. Mathew, who's hurting you? Do you just get beat up this much?” She questioned as she walked around him, noting every cut that needed to be cleaned and bandaged and where she’d need to put ointment and where the skin looked tight so she could use some cream to help.

“Doesn’t matter.” Matt said nonchalantly and walked toward his bedroom. Karen grabbed his shoulder, the one that wasn’t bruised.

“Oh no you don’t, you are not blowing me off. You are way too… too hurt! Now you go sit on that couch and give me a moment to- to think.” Karen ordered in a flustered voice. She sometimes did get quite frustrated with both Matt’s and Foggy’s need to seem tough. She knew they both would do what she said when it came to their health.

The man sighed and hesitated for a moment before going and sitting on the couch.

Karen walked around and gathered up the first aid kit she had found and the secondary care kit that was under the sink. She washed her hands and set everything out on the coffee table and then washed her hands again.

“Okay… well just lay down for now.” She says finally with a sigh as she looks at Matt’s beaten form.

He silently laid down on his back, wincing as he did.

Karen got to work.

Her hands were so soft, so gentle as she rubbed ointments and creams and laid gauze and bandages over his cuts and stab wounds. She was just… so careful. Like he was made of glass. Matt found it both soothing and calming but also scratching and made him feel panicked and shaken.

When she gently laid her hands on his stomach, just below his belly button and just above his towel, he trembled. All over he shivered and shook slightly. He grabbed at the edge of the couch and took a big breath through his mouth. His brain was fuzzy and warm and a little far away. Like he was floating away, his body hurt and his head was always too noisy, too busy, but it was all floating away. It was overwhelming.

“Matt? Are you okay? You’re shaking a bit.” Karen pointed out as she rubbed some cream on the inside of the man’s left thigh and knee. Matt was breathing a bit quicker and he looked spaced out in his face.

“I-I’m sorry.” He said in a heartbreaking voice. Something small and broken like a glass taped back together. Matt swallowed thickly and let out a shaky breath. Karen knew Matt had sensory issues sometimes, from what she had seen and from what Foggy had told her.

“Matt, how do you feel?” She asked lightly and moved her hand to lay on his wrist. He was gripping tightly on the edge of the couch, knuckles white with his effort.

“I’m sorry!” He shouted and quickly moved to sit with his knees to his chest and his back to the corner of the couch. He quickly whipped his wrist away from her. He pulled his limbs as close to his body as they could possibly get. He shook and pressed his head into the tops of his knees. His breath was quick and shallow.

“Oh Matt. I forget you’re so… fragile.” Karen whispered and gently rubbed the man’s ankle. She didn’t want to upset him further so she just rubbed his ankle and stayed calm.

Matt focused in on her. Her heartbeat was calm and smooth and her palms were warm but not sweaty and she was still being so careful even with the light rubbing of his joint. She was safe. She was his friend and she cared about him. She cared about him being okay. She wanted him to be okay. She was helping him.

Matt chewed the inside of his mouth and tried to match his friend’s own breathing.

“‘M not fragile. I don’t need help.” Matt grumbled once his breathing was once again under control. He was still shaky and felt rather… tender. Tender inside like his chest had a big bruise on it.

Karen blew out a laugh from her nose.

“You don’t want help. You probably don’t need my help. However you’d probably like a bit of… something else? Can you just sit next to me?” Karen offered and moved so Matt had space beside her on the floor. She hadn’t said it in an innuendo kind of way but rather a… Mother-talking-to-stubborn-child kind of way. Make the mule think it’s all their idea.

Mathew grumbled and let out complaining sounds but he sat up and moved to sit next to Karen. He winced and had an uncomfortable and pained expression plastered on his face. Shoulder to shoulder they sat.

“Matt, I want you to just let me guide you okay. Can I do that?” Karen asked and moved to rub at his bare left knee. Matt was scared, nervous . His hands were sweating and he felt the tremble in his shoulders down to his fingertips.

He gave a short nod and let out a big breath. He knew he was pouting but couldn’t really reason why that was ridiculous.

“Good, now…I think the couch is too small. We’re gonna stay sitting on the floor alright” Karen explained and grabbed ahold of Matt’s calluses hand.

Her hand was warm and her skin was soft and it smelled like vanilla lotion and pen ink. She was warm all over like she had been sitting in the sun all day when really it had been raining all evening.

Matt let his hand hang loose and kept his head down but when Karen pulled him up to kneel he looked straight forward.

His towel fell open a bit, he knew it wasn’t going to fall so he didn’t worry. He didn’t realize it had opened to reveal himself completely to the blonde though.

Karen let out a small laugh and sat down with her back to the couch and her legs crossed criss cross applesauce.

“Here you can sit here. You know all the doors are locked and the windows are sealed. Just relax a bit.” Karen said as she squeezed his hand and pulled him closer. Matt knee walked around until he hit her thighs.

“Turn around.” Karen instructed and pulled Matt’s wrist around and he turned with it so he faced away from her. He twitched and flinched when he felt her move behind him once she let go of his hand. She radiated a warmth against his back, a honey warm feeling that seeped into his muscles yet drew him tight like a bow.

Karen moved so the basket of her legs was bigger, wider. She shifted so she leaned against the back of the couch and her ankles were laying atop each other.

“Okay now sit up high on your knees.” She said and gently laid her hand on his side, right above a bruise. He flinched away from her but she only shushed him and rubbed her thumb up and down calmingly. He stood up on his knees and she pulled his hip towards her.

He pulled against her hand and she rubbed the jut of his hip and stopped pulling.

“Just sit down. Let me pull you.” Karen instructed and Matt resisted her warm hand on his hip for only a moment more before falling back. His butt landed on the floor and his back was supported by a thin yet strong arm and his knees were over a slack covered thigh.

He didn’t breathe for a second. His eyes were open wide in shock and his lips were parted. Karen’s hand was on his side, arm holding his back up. His shoulder and arm were pressed against her chest, squishing into her breasts through her soft worn red blouse.

“There! Isn’t that better? You deserve some nice… human contact. And you can just... relax.” Karen said quietly and rubbed up and down the scarred back and side that she was holding up.

Matt couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. There was something that wanted to crack open in his brain. Something that was rapidly cracking and chipping it’s way to his forebrain. It made him feel like he was drowning and struggling without making him feel the need to struggle.

Karen just laid back against the couch and rubbed the stiff man’s back and side slowly and calmly. Sure it might not be helping him relax but at least it should make him feel safer, taken care of. She watched his face. He was looking straight forward and his body was in the exact same position it was as when he sat down.

“It’s alright Matt, get comfy.” She offered after a few minutes of his stiffness. He felt so tense under her hands and he looked so… lost. She thought he looked lost in his own mind.

Whatever that was holding back the flood had broken. Matt was shattering.

He took one stuttering breath in before the damn of tears rushed down his face and he let out a hiccup before folding over himself and sobbing. He brought his hands up but ended up just holding them up in the air in front of his face. Karen sat up and wrapped both her arms around him under his arms and rocked back and forth.

“Oh it’s okay! It’s okay, that’s good,it’s alright, let it out.” She said quietly into his ear as she pressed her cheek to the back of his head. Her nose filled with the nice clean scent of his freshly washed hair.

Matt continued to sob and hiccup as snot and tears flowed down his face onto his arms and lap. His stomach growled but he didn’t even notice. His legs had gone flat and his knees had opened so his towel fell off of him. Karen picked it up and pulled it so it could lay across his lap, covering him up and catching some of his tears.

“It’s alright, I’m here. I’m right here Matt. You’re okay. You’re doing such a good job.” Karen whispered every once in a while as he continued to rock the crying man. He just melted into her. He leaned against her solid body and laid his head on her shoulder as he gripped the front of her blouse loosely, too exhausted already.

So much was going through his head but also he felt like he couldn’t think. He had this craving. This craving that he couldn’t realize was what it was. He didn’t know anything. He felt so dumb in the worst of ways. He cried and cried and let tears of tears roll off his face.

He felt like he couldn’t do anything. He felt so… babied. He felt so empty, like he weighed nothing and his head was emptying with each tear he shed. He felt too light to feel anything but relief.

There was a knock at the door. Matt didn’t even try to listen to who it was.

Keys jingled.

Heavy footsteps.

“Uh, am I interrupting?” Said a voice all too familiar.

“No Foggy, he just seemed so… not okay. But he started crying and I think he’s having a bit of a fit. But it’s okay ‘cause we’re working through it, right Matt?” Karen said and rubbed his squishy soft shoulder muscle. He didn’t respond, he only sniffled and breathed heavily.

“Yeah he’s had one of these before. When we were in college, we were sleeping in his bed and he just yeah just yeah. Yeah. He’ll be okay.” Foggy said and waved off. He didn’t wanna go into detail about the several times he found himself cradling his best friend after a few too many drinks or getting his can broken or stolen.

A long time rolled by and Karen just rocked him back and forth and his mind fizzled quiet. He felt his own breathing slow and he heard his two best friends talk but everything started to drift… drift… away...

“Matt… Matt… Mathew…” Karen said quietly as she rubbed and shook at Matt’s arm.

He had fallen still and then asleep and then he was making little huffs and flexing his fists, having a nightmare. Then finally tears slipped down his face again in quiet little lines. She had to wake him up, get him dressed, and into bed.

Matt took a big breath through his mouth and blinked his eyes open. He took in everything he was hearing and feeling and smelling. There was only one pair of lungs, Foggy left. They were in the same spot on the floor but it was colder, it was later at night.

Karen rubbed the warm expanse of Mathew’s back and the man yawned.

“Hey sleepyhead, let’s go to bed for real now. Do you have any pajamas? What do you wear to bed?” Karen asked as Matt stretched his arms up above his head, joints popping along the way. He went tomato faced but acted like he wasn’t embarrassed beyond anything else.

He had just realized he was in fact not wearing clothes, and hadn’t been wearing clothes for the past however many hours while sitting on his friend.

He stood up, quickly grabbing the towel that had fallen to the floor. Karen stood up too and stretched. She had pins and needles all down her legs but it was worth it to help her friend.

“Um, yeah. Yes, I have pajamas. I can um I can get dressed and everything by myself. Thanks for uh yeah.” Matt mumbled out quickly as he walked toward his bed and dresser. Karen shook her head and followed him. She watched him grab a pair of boxer briefs and bend down to put them on and almost fall forward.

She rushed over and out her hands on his chest and back and straightened him back up. He was huffing and looked… close to shame. He turned his head away from her.

“Yeah I know you can, but you don’t have too. Not everything has to be done the hard way or by yourself.” Karen scolded lightly and patted Matt’s back.

He huffed and faced away from her and nodded. Karen took the underpants from his hands and bent down onto one knee.

“Here we go! Now you can hold onto my shoulder okay? Yeah now this one up…” Karen said and Matt put his hand on her shoulder and lifted his left foot up. She pulled the underwear over his ankle and then tapped his opposite one and slipped the underwear over that foot. She then pulled them up to the man’s knees and stepped back.

“There now you situate them. See that wasn’t so hard.” Karen says and looks back at the drawers. She would’ve offered to get him a shirt but that seemed to overstep boundaries.

“Okay now shirt on and I’ll fix the bed.” Karen said and walked to pull up his blankets and fluffed his pillows. He pulled on a stretched out crew neck shirt.

“Thank you, Karen. I appreciate it. I… don’t know what came over me.” Matt said as he made his way to his bed and pulled back the covers and sat on the edge.

“It’s okay Matt, we all get burned out. Just… if you feel like you’re getting too ramped up or burnt out, just call me. Or maybe we could have a little self care day. Some music and pizza and sleeping in. I don’t want to get to that point again. Me and Foggy, neither of us want to see you like that.” Karen said sincerely. Matt huffed at the mention of Foggy. Of course his best friend had come to check up on him.

“Okay… just don’t… don’t mention it.” The man mumbled before getting into bed. Karen smiled and walked to stand next to him.

“Of course, can’t let your masculinity get dented. It’s midnight by the way, I know you non-24 messes up your circadian rhythm.” And with that she pulled his blankets up to his chest and left.

Geez, she treats me way better than Foggy.

#fanfic #egg_company #daredevil fanfic #marvel daredevil #matt x karen #matt x karen fanfic #matt murdock #foggy nelson #karen page

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 months

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Remembering my grandpa: the coolest guy I've ever met

so, like, still haven't processed what happened. that's honestly pretty typical for me, it's something I used to feel really guilty about (everybody around me would be crying, and I wouldn't actually feel those emotions for upwards of a year), and I've gotten better at addressing what's under the surface before it gets to the point of a breakdown. there are several reasons for why my biggest personal metaphor for grief is as follows

our love is a garden; this grief is a seed

mostly been keeping myself busy, just cleaned most of the kitchen in one go, probably going to clean my room later today. also been thinking a lot about how incredibly cool my grandpa was. he's genuinely one of the most rad people I've ever had the chance to meet, and I don't even know all of his stories!!! just gonna ramble about him for a bit

dropped out of high school (and later got his GED) because WW2 was happening and he enlisted (either lied about his age or was just barely old enough). got recognition for his marksmanship skills, and (forgive me for not knowing his official rank/title) even ended up being a sort of guard for a high ranking officer. I remember being told that when they had to drive somewhere, Gramps was the guy with a scoped rifle keeping an eye out for trouble, ready to counter ambushes or something like that.

(the point is that I haven't heard the details since I was a kid, but his rifle skills were incredible, especially considering his age at the time)

known for drinking Respect Women Juice and being a stand-up guy. I've read some of his memoirs (not published, but they might be at some point, I'll let y'all know), and he talks about how mad he was at my grandma's dad (his eventual father-in-law) because the FIL was soooo excited to have "man time" with Gramps, after already having treated Grandma like the son he would have preferred, and Gramps couldn't understand why FIL wasn't appreciating the incredible woman that Grandma was. seriously, Grandma was also a badass, an equally incredible sharpshooter who only quit competing (having reached the highest level for women in the US) because she realized in order to keep winning she'd have to actually put time and effort into getting better. also she was a great cook, apparently. had a real temper tho

Anyway, there's also some other stuff about his respect for women, but that involves a bit of family drama with other relatives that I don't want to get into online. The gist is that he went out of his way to make sure that several women in the family got treated fairly, especially when some people weren't properly appreciating the work of a stay-at-home mom.

He was an active scuba diver for many, many years, and several of his longest friends were met via the hobby. at one point, he even worked with several of them to buy a large amount of land on San Juan Island (of the San Juan Islands), where they divided it up and all built houses together. I have many memories of going to visit during the summer, and honestly it was really impressive what they built together. Grandpa also loved kayaking, and even dabbled in making kayaks!

Putting more under the break because I recognize this is lot

In order to get to San Juan Island, most people take a big ol ferry. during an incident that got a fair bit of coverage in the local newspapers, my Grandpa was taking the ferry when he realized someone in the distance was in trouble (small boat, might have gotten flipped or something, again don't remember all the details). Grandpa was quick to take action, got the attention of the ferry's crew, and was able to arrange a rescue. If he hadn't noticed the boat, chances are the person/people would have died.

Gramps was very active even up into his mid-to-late eighties (genuinely very fit and healthy until his kidneys started failing), and had some fun ventures as part of a historical group that went around the San Juan Islands finding old map markers/territory markers (god, I wish I remember the right word) and using modern tech to record their exact locations. It was like a scavenger hunt, almost, using old/outdated maps to find these things.

He was also an official boat inspector for Friday Harbor (the main part of San Juan Island) for several years, and was recognized for his hard work/the sheer number of inspections he did.

On top of all of this, my Grandpa was genuinely one of the warmest, funniest guys around. If someone asked me to think of an example of healthy romantic love, I would think about my Grandpa and my step-grandma. Then I'd think about my brother and his gf but that's a whole other thing. Grandpa was full of love, and had no qualms with showing it, using his musical talent for serenading her (he also joined in during the family gathering jam sessions). The way he looked at her will be forever engraved in my memory, full of love and full of life.

There are plenty more stories about Grandpa, some of which I just never heard, and some of which I have simply forgotten. I'm gonna miss him.

#j says things #personal #actually saying I miss him made the emotions hit #it didn't feel this real ten minutes ago

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brightgnosis · 1 year

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My Husband woke me up with a Latte and Pancakes in bed, then drug me off to Lowes, then Atwoods, and then Walmart. So I'm tired and've been shopping for plants all day. But I'm not complaining!

I bought myself Spearmint (Yerba Mate), Peppermint, Mint (Sweet), Basil (Sweet), Thyme (Lemon), Thyme (German), Oregano (Italian), Lavender, Rosemary, Sage (Pineapple), Sage (Garden), Parley (Curled Leaf), Parsley (Italian Flat-Leaf), and Cilantro.

Also got myself the 2023 Farmer's Almanac again, and the 'Small Space Gardens' 2023 copy of Better Homes & Gardens Magazine, and another 'Kitchen Herbs' scented Candle from them (because both my Husband and I are really enjoying the first one I bought on a whim); plus I came home to a new plant catalogue from White Flower Farms 😈

Also picked up a box of hair dye in this beautiful rich 'Cocoa' color, and some brow gel to try because mine are sparse af and it's starting to drive me bonkers but my old way of doing my brows is just too much effort. So I'm going to give brown gel a go finally, and see if I like it or not.

I will say that nothing is quite as pure as the looks of open curiosity and sheer confusion that I was getting from the good ole country farmhands at Atwoods, though, ha. Especially compared to the usual looks of open hostility I tend to get from the various racist Hillbillies and Rednecks at WalMart. Although I did have a nice exchange with our Cashier at WalMart today, who complimented my headwrap and actually had the guts to ask if it was a religious thing "or just because I think it's pretty".

(Usually people compliment me but don't usually have the guts to ask, or automatically brush it off vocally as "definitely not religious"- like my regular Nurse does).

It was pretty clear that she was fishing for information for the specific religion. But if she wanted it, she could ask the question herself. I'm not just going to volunteer it. She did break a bit, though, when she got to the bacon and sausage on the belt- which admittedly is always kind of amusing to me whenever it happens (and it's happened multiple times now with different people) 🤣

Anyways. Today was lovely. I'm decompressing now while my Husband makes Meatloaf, then I'll make my Mashed Potatoes and he's going to make Asparagus. And tomorrow we'll plant the Herbs and I'm going to go back through the list of things I can plant after frost and see what I need to order bareroots for.

We've decided not to bother with the seeds after all this year. It does mean I did waste all that money. But I just don't have the energy to keep fiddling with it with this setup and the fact I have no space for the grow light and heating pad I clearly need. So it's bite the bullet and just bare root it this year instead.

#Personal #Food Is The Ultimate Love Language #Religion & Magic #Face & Body #Garden 2023 #2023 #Gardening #Homemaker #Homemaking #Housewife #NonTrad Housewife #NonTrad Homemaker #NonTrad Homemaking

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esnyshire · 1 year

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amateur pt. 5

summary: In part five of amateur, we continue on with the date between Harry and Love and see how the night leads. Finally some actual private time.

warning: some light spanking, nicknames, horrible dad (joke(s)) humor, finally some private, simple, laying down on the bed sex, needy sex, a battle between the dom, the music I picked for these chaps rockkkkk, some good ole smut

wc: 4.2k

♫ What You Want by Mase

The night sky is pitch black, the only light we have is the moon illuminating our surroundings. Harry wasted no time in leaving the club after I met who I needed to meet and brought me to a food truck. The entire ride consisted of nothing but full-on foodie commentary. I didn't interrupt him not once, taking in all his words. I'm not used to him talking so much, so I give him center stage and he takes it gladly.

He said they make the best rice and lamb he's ever tasted, but he reminded me that it's with little knowledge of food from around the world so his words hold little to no importance. I still listened to him ramble on about it though. I'm sitting on the top of his car, the heat emitting from the hood of the car warming my body on this particularly cold summer night. My tiny plastic bowl is filled to the brim with white rice and lamb chunks, so greasy and hot you can see the steam above it. Harry is shoving spoonfuls of food in his mouth, scarfing it down like he hasn't eaten all day. He loves this food truck food. A giggle leaves my lips as I look down at my food.

"I'm already full, and I've barely scratched the surface. Were they trying to feed a village with my order?" I laugh as I force the spoon into my mouth.

"That's the beauty of this truck! That's exactly why I love it. It's cheap and good quality for a lot of food. I almost always have leftovers." He smile is bright and his cheeks are full with food like a cute hungry hamster. "But you shouldn't force yourself to eat Love, you'll get sick." He puts his foot down and grabs mine out of my hands. He flips the top on and seals it closed.

"C'mon, let me take you home. It's getting late." He says putting all the food away in the bag. It was close to two o'clock, the date only just started and it's already ending. I don't want to leave him yet. It was like he could read my mind cause the next thing he said made me appreciate how attentive he really is. "Unless you'd like to come to my place. Spend the night with me?" He asks, smirking at me with his one dimple on display.

"I'd like that."

"Great." He nods, holding out his hand for me. He helps me off and in the car.

"I've always wanted to go camping, to see the stars, and hear the animals at night." He watches the road, speaking out.

We've gone down every rabbit hole of conversation. Changing topics every couple of seconds, rambling on about whatever comes to mind. It's nice to know I can speak to someone like this, it's always so hard making friends. Nobody my age relates to me. It's a lot harder than it looks, being alone all the time. So, being with Harry tonight is something I'm not used to. I am enjoying myself though.

"Oh god, no I hate bugs. Imagine all the bugs." I cringe at the thought of having to go camping. "Don't make me do it." I plead.

"Oh, you're coming. I can't go by myself. What will happen when I don't have you to throw at the bears to save myself!" He emphasizes.

"Ouch! I thought what we had was special!" I gasp at his joke.

"I'll mourn you, don't stress. Everyone will know you for your bravery."

"But, I'm too pretty to die!" I yell in ear as he drives.

"Hm, it's a pity. Your beauty would go to waste." He peeks at me through his peripheral vision.

"A compliment and a promise to sacrifice me in one go! You sure know how to charm a lady." I quip.

"It's a gift."

The car goes silent, aside from the music playing.

♫ So Fresh, So Clean by Outkast.

He taps the steering wheel, in his world. He speaks into silence.

"I don't know much about you. Tell me a few things I'd never know unless you told me specifically."

"Uh, let me think." I actually have to think about this. I've never had a partner ask me questions about my life. It's usually just sex and then they're out the door.

"Nothing is off limits" he says quickly.

"Well, my name is Amor Morales. But I go by Love. But, you knew that already." I giggle a little at the obvious. "I live by myself. I've had Finnegan since I was thirteen." I continue with little facts about myself, filling him in on things from my life. He listens, nodding and humming in response.

"I've always been clumsy! It's not cute." I cover my face, red after explaining to him how I fell in front of a train station full of strangers.

"I've missed a lot." He lazily smiles, shaking his head.

"Oh, what part did you miss?"

The light turns red and the car slows down. He takes his hand off the wheel and lays it on his thighs, turning his torso to face me.

"Have you ever met someone, and realized you've gone through life completely wrong?" He asks, squinting his eyes. He sounds like he's asking himself the question as well. I don't hesitate with my answer, wanting nothing more than for him to know I feel the same way.

"Yeah, you."

"You're only twenty-three, Love." He deadpans.

"Exactly, yet I feel like it's been completely wrong up until two days ago."

The light turns green, but he doesn't drive. He just stares at me, like what is in front of him isn't real. I hope he knows I feel the same way. The rest of the drive is silent and to my surprise, Harry's house is only around the block from mine. I've passed his house more times than I can even count.

He parks in his driveway, collecting all the food and walking to his door. "There's a key under the doormat, can you open the door for me?" He asks politely, whispering slightly. It's pretty late and sound echoes off of the houses very easily in this neighborhood. Of course, he's polite in that way. The last thing I need is rumors of us stumbling home at three in the morning. I grab the key and open the door, letting myself in first to hold the door.

"Make yourself at home, I'll go put the food in the fridge."

"Okay, I'll be here." I take slow steps into the living room, looking at everything in view.

It's big. Bigger than my house that's for sure. His walls are the nicest cream color, with one brown accent wall. There are pictures framed everywhere, cute little kids running around on the grass. People laughing, drinking and eating together. The family in these photos looks so happy, I can't help but question why Harry isn't in any of them.

There's no sign of life in the living room. No flowers, no pets. Not even fruits are displayed on his dining room table.

His house is so clean and prim, I didn't expect anything different, honestly. He holds himself on such a high pedestal, between his neatly decorated nails every two weeks and his constantly trimmed hair i shouldn't have doubted it in the first place.

♫ Can We by SWV

I don't hear him come into the living, the only thing signaling he's near is his chest against my head. He hovers over me, reaching for my hair and pulling it to the side. My neck is empty aside from my chain, he guides his hand along my shoulder, leaving a hot trail of goosebumps up to my jaw.

I close my eyes in bliss, feeling like the room is closing in on me. Every time I've been with him it's been in public or the locker room. The risk of being caught was the whole reason it felt so good but being here in his house with only him, ignites a fire in my stomach. He's slow with his touches, his face is inches from my skin. His hot breath fans over my neck, causing me to take a sharp breath in.

My body has a mind of its own and goes limp. It's a different feeling than I'm used to, an indescribable head rush. I'm going to tip over any second. No one has ever gotten me to lose my train of thought this easily, I can barely think of what I want to do. I just want him to touch me more.

"Would you like a drink? I have wine." He says, removing his body from my vicinity.

"I'm good, can you touch me?" My words are rushed as I take his hands from behind me, placing them back around me. My fingers slip into his as I guide them up to my torso and my breasts. I grip around his hand, directing him to grope me as freely as he wants.

My head falls back on him, enjoying every feeling I'm getting from his hands. They're large and his cold rings brush against my warm stomach, a soft moan slips from my lips.

"Of course." He says in my ear, I hold in a scoff as I roll my eyes. He's loving this right now. How I'm acting is submissive. Normally I would be reluctant, but seeing him try to take over makes me enjoy it even more. I can hear the smile in his words.

"Oh god, thank you," I say, not intending to thank him, but I do.

"Can I kiss you," He asks. His voice so deep, my core involuntarily clenches from his salacious words. I already feel my composure start to dissolve. Quicker than I want it to.

I don't answer, I turn around in his arms and attach my lips to his. They are soft and the smell of him wafts through my nostrils causing me to sigh into the kiss. Just the simple request to touch me has me reeling, I've never been one to care too much about consent. Especially for something so innocent as a kiss. He begins to touch me, rubbing my arms gently as his lips move against mine. The kiss is so mind numbingly slow, I feel like the air is being sucked from my lungs. He slides his hands to my waist, pulling me closer into his body.

His hands travel up my back, rubbing and clawing against the thin fabric of my top. He plays with the hem of my crop top, silently requesting to take it off. I break the kiss, momentarily allowing him to lift my shirt over my head. He mindlessly throws it behind him, pushing his body into mine the second his hands become free. My now bare chest is firmly against his. His heart is beating so fast, I feel the thump of it. His heart matches the speed of my own.

"Don't be nervous, I'll take care of you," I say against his lips, playing with the hairs behind his ears.

He nods slowly, keeping his attention on my face. He kisses me again, my lips envelop him completely as he hoists me up by my thighs.

"My beautiful boy. Tell me what you want."

"Touch me."

I do as he asks, rubbing my fingers under the hem of his shirt, slowly walking my fingers up his torso. My hands feel over his moth tattoo, taking in every curve and line on his skin. My eyes are closed as I continue my journey around his body. I search for the buttons to his shirt, unbuttoning them as I make my way up. Sliding my hands towards his hips, an eruption of goosebumps perk up all over his skin. I make my way to his shoulders, sliding the fabric off. My lips land on his chest as I pepper small kisses all over, leaving small wet spots as I move to his nipple. I breathe softly against his skin, causing his nipple to harden. I slowly lick on his nipple, and a sneaky gasp falls from his lips. His entire demeanor changes when I start a wet trail with my tongue, going down his torso. I'm slow with my travel to the place I want him so badly, the eye contact between us only driving me to show him exactly how much I've needed this all day.

Right when I go to reach for the hem of his pants two large hands grab my own, he pulls me up to stand and then lifts me off the floor and into his arms. A squeal leaves my lips as I go flying up to his face. My legs go around his waist as I try to steady my breathing. The laugh that leaves Harry's lips echoing off the tall walls around us, it's rich and contagious. I slowly join in with laughter, eating up every ounce of his perfect smile. Our smiles slowly fade as I stare at him with his head back, still delirious from his laughing fit. He looks at me through hooded eyes, so drunk off the feelings coursing through us both.

"Can we go upstairs?" I take initiative, not wanting Harry's shy attitude to get the best of him.

He had his fun experimenting, but I know he wants me to take the lead tonight. Watching him let his guard down, It's one of my new favorite things to do.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" I grab his throat, putting pressure in the right places.

He doesn't answer, letting out a big exhale of breath. His grip on my thighs loosens, causing me to tighten them around his waist to keep myself up.

His eyes begin to flutter, just as I yank his face closer to me.

I grit my teeth in annoyance, "I asked you a fucking question, Harry. Answer me."

"Love. Y-yes, Love." He stutters from the lack of oxygen going to his brain, "Please." He begs.

I grab his jaw and speak into his ear. "Get upstairs, now."

He holds me for dear life on his hip, speed walking to the steps, with every step he takes a huff of breath escapes his lips. He's impatient after the first half of steps and proceeds to skip up the rest of the way up. We enter his bedroom, having no time to look around. He throws me on the bed, quickly getting on top. His lips attached to my chest, kissing and sucking. My most sensitive area is my nipples. They're tender and pink, ready to be in between his teeth. The excitement in me only grows when he flips me over, so I'm on top of him. Willingly giving power over him, he doesn't realize what he's just done.

My beautiful boy.

He goes for his pants, rushing with his buckle to get it undone. I smack his hand away, he looks at me stunned by my actions.

He conflicts with himself, unsure if he should be mad or turned on with me smacking him. The smack was light, nothing to cause any bruises. A small tint of red begins to show, which causes me to bite my lower lip in satisfaction. Every time I touch him, it's like he's constantly thinking about if he likes what I did or not.

"You like that, baby?"

He nods.

"Wanna try it with me?"

His eyes widen, I grab his hand and bring it to my face. He palms my cheek as I look at him. It's a small reassurance, that I'm here and everything will be fine.

"You can say no. Only if you want to." I make sure he knows he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want.

"I do," he timidly says, "where?"

"People pick differently, my ass, my thighs, my hands, even my face even." Im still sat on his dick, rubbing dangerously close to my core. The second I said my face, I felt him twitch against me.

"Let's play it safe, smack my ass whenever you want. Okay?" He nods quickly.

I shake my head, smiling down at him. I grab one of his shoulders and guide him back up to me. My fingers slip in his hair as I take a handful and pull. He hisses as I bring his face to mine.

"Use your words, my dirty boy."

"Okay." He says.

"Safe." He whispers.

"Yeah." He's dazed, barely comprehending his babbling.

I push him back down onto the bed and climb off of him, opening his buckle and unbuttoning his pants. I struggle to get his pants off but eventually, they come sliding off. He's so hard, it's like a tent in his boxers. I can't help but feel bad, I rub on his erection feeling him throb across my hand. A pained moan comes from his throat, as his hips buck off the mattress. His hands instinctively grab hold of the sheets. Anything to keep his grounded. Chills erupt all over my arms from excitement, feeling overcome with the need to get him to come.

I peel his boxers off his body, in no mood to take my time anymore. My hands are sweating and my mind is racing with all the things I can do to him. He's patiently waiting for me to do something, anything to ease his pained pleasure.

"I want you to fuck me," I say, the air around us is warm and overwhelmingly smells like him. I want to scream with how wound up I am. "Take off my skirt, please. Just rip it off."

He looks at me in confusion, I dig my nails into the skin on his chest. I plead with him through my eyes, not able to verbally explain why I need his help. I'm going crazy. He winces at the pain, but his body betrays him as his mouth flies open and a gruntled moan escapes his lips. He quickly grips the slit near my legs and pulls apart the skirt, the loud tear just makes me clench even harder. I hear my heart beating so loudly in my ears, i feel so needy for him to fuck me already.

I sit on my knees, hovering over him as I grab hold of his dick. His head is pink and sensitive, I start to pump with one hand, my other on his chest holding myself up.

He's breathless, looking down at my body above him. His hands reach out for me but he snatches them back to his head, gripping his hair so hard. He slides his hands to the back of his head resting on them like a pillow.

"Oh god." He says, frantically looking down at my hand and back up to my face.

I take my free hand and slide my thong to the side, "Do you have a condom?" I ask.

"N-no, I haven't needed them." He is not coherent as he speaks.

"My beautiful boy, I need you to pay attention, or I can't do anything with you." I sternly say, making it known I can't continue if he doesn't cooperate.

His eyes flutter open, looking up at me. "I'm here, Love." He seems more awake which makes me smile. I press a kiss to his chest.

"Good boy," I say, kissing down his chest. "Now, tell me, am I allowed to fuck you raw? My last checkup was three weeks ago and I'm on birth control."

He nods. "I'm okay with that." He breathes out. "Please, please just fuck me." He pants, grabbing at my arm to continue stroking him.

"So needy." I giggle at him. "Anything for you."

I grab his hard cock and direct his tip to my clit, slowly sliding him between my lips. From the contact, my jaw practically unhinges due to the pleasure that throbs through my lower half.

"Fuck, Harry." I slowly slide his tip in my entrance, no longer wanting to tease him and drag this on. I push myself down on his dick, sliding down with ease. It sounds wet and he feels so deep inside me, my eyes shut closed with pleasure. I make my way back up, only to forcefully push myself down again. I keep a steady pace, bouncing on him. He watches with wide eyes, seeing himself disappear inside me. This position is good, but not good enough.

I quickly sit up, turning around and getting back on my knees. I'm now facing away from him, with my ass in his face. I look over my shoulder, only to see him blankly staring.

"Cowgirl." I calmly say. I take hold of him and sink down.

"Oh my fucking god!" He yells, being taken off guard with the new angle. I bounce my ass, wasting no time in building up in speed. My strokes are short and deliberate. I look back over my shoulder, his eyes are squeezed shut and his curls are all over his forehead. He looks breathtaking.

I take one of my hands and begin to rub my clit, my vagina clenches around his dick as I run fast pace circles directly on the nerve I know so well.

"Talk to me, Harry," I say in between gasps.

"You- you feel so good." He grunts, holding my hips and pulling me onto his dick. My movements turn rough as my ass slams against his groin.

"Such a good boy, what's- oh god, what's my name?" It's becoming harder and harder to talk.

"Love, fuck. It's love, just love." He moans out. "Only you."

"That's right, now spank me."

I don't even have to repeat myself because right when the words leave my lips his hand comes cracking down my left ass cheek.

Oh, yes! Just like that. Again." I force my voice out. Another smack echos through the room. A pleasured moan crawls out of my throat.

"Harder." I grit out, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck me until I can't walk anymore. This time, it's with a heavy hand. He smacks the same cheeks in the same spot, causing my back to arch from the pain. It feels so good and travels to my core as I continue to throw my ass on his dick.

I'm so dazed in the moment, I don't realize he's lifted me off of him, and he's now on his knees. My back is to him as he grabs my neck and pulls me into his chest. A gasp leaves my lips from his harsh movement, still throbbing from his constant pounding into my pussy.

"Living up to the dirty boy nickname I see, want to fuck me from behind?" I smirk at his eagerness to take over.

"Dirty boy, yeah." He deliriously says, putting his tip at my entrance and slamming into me.

"Oh fuck!"

His grip on my neck tightens as he fucks me, i guide his other hand to my clit, and move his fingers in a side to side motion. He's rough in all the right ways and quick with the snap of his hip. It's just how I've always wanted it. He's holding my neck in the exact right places, my head starts to go fuzzy as I feel the build start-up in my lower abdomen. All the air is being sucked out of me, I feel his balls slap against my wet skin, making a heavenly sound.

"Mm, you like it rough?" I ask, barely able to get a word out.

He doesn't answer, so I clench around him. He hunches onto me, a grunt leaves his lips as I kegel around him again.

"Yes, yes, yes! Don't stop that, Love." He sounds panicked.

When my name leaves his lips, the build-up to my orgasm skips steps and starts to tip over quicker than expected.

"Harry, fuck I'm close."

He continues his ferocious movements on my clit and thrusts into me so rough, I know I won't be able to walk. I smile at the thought.

"Come with me, Love."

As if he commanded it, my orgasm breaks through its threshold and hits me like a tidal wave. My voice gets caught in my throat as I try to scream out. Harry cums right after me, twitching above me. Mumbling out my name repeatedly, to the point where he has no voice left in him. He collapses on me, no longer able to keep himself up. The room is hot and smells like sex, the sheets are stuck to our skin as we come down from our highs. He eventually comes to and lifts himself up and out of me. He falls next to me with a thud, looking at me with a face I can only describe as pleased. He smiles at me. I giggle when he wipes the sweat from his forehead.

"That wasn't very amateur of you." He takes in my words, shaking his head in confusion. Suddenly he realizes and bursts into a fit of laughter. I join in right after, his contagious laugh bringing it out of me.

And to think this is my same shy lifeguard.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fic #esnyshire #harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles rec #harry styles sub #subrry

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0nlinejournal · 2 years

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10:05pm

The day is nearing its end, and although I look forward to sleep, I do not look forward to tomorrow. I have no desire to work. I want to rest for the two days I have left before house/dog sitting for two weeks. But, the money from these next two days will be an extra bit of pocket change to sustain me for those two weeks, so it feels necessary.

Update on last night meeting my boyfriend's ex. It was actually pleasant. I had expressed my concern of me becoming catty if I felt like they were flirting before hand and I could tell he was conscious of that for the night, making sure to give me enough attention and not being to persistent with being near her. I really appreciated that. She was nice, I had no issues talking to her, and her interactions with him weren't flirty or strange in anyway. I'm glad the night went so well. I did take two tequila shots before she and her friends arrived so that I wouldn't feel too awkward upon meeting them all. Her friends were lovely too. I really enjoyed them.

The actual events of last night weren't too exciting. Regular ol' bar hopping. The kind where it's too packed to get a drink within a decent period of time, and by the time you have your drink the group is moving to the next bar. The music is too loud and no one is really dancing, but you can't have conversations because you can't hear shit. Not my ideal environment, but I wanted to have fun with everyone and I think that goal was achieved.

Today I slept through a potential hangover. I did stay the night at my boyfriend's but I had to wake up at 8:30am because he had to drop me off at home before he went off to work. I did not want to get up, but I slipped on my heels from the night before and sat myself in the passenger's seat. I immediately fell asleep when I got home and only woke up when my mother called me at 2pm.

I had to pop over to her place today to get the rundown on how to care for the dogs like they do, and for instructions on pool care (because they have a lil' above ground pool now). She also gave me some food and a pothos that a woman at her work brought for me since my mother had mentioned I was wanting some plants for my apartment. There's another plant, too. The second plant is a bit larger and I don't know what it is. I only took home the pothos for now, since they are both sitting solely in water and I could only hold one between my legs for the drive home. I am very happy with my plant. Setting it down on my little coffee table sent me into extreme cleaning mode, since I wanted my place to look nice with the addition of my new plant.

My brain is a little jumbled right now. I stumbled on a guy live streaming Skyward Sword and I have to watch. He seems to have just started the game. He's at the part where he's learning the sword mechanics and they're so awful, it's so funny to watch. Stoked to see him play. I've oddly enough been craving watching someone play this exact game recently.

I'm going to watch this now, so I'll write to ya when I write to ya. Hope everyone is having a lovely night.

10:33pm

#september 4 2022 #september #online journal #journal blog #daily entry #journal #personal #tumblr journal #spilled ink

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ketavinsky · 3 months

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happy lunar new year everyone. vent post here. i just need to get it out somewhere and at least here there's some space for it.

growing up i always had this suspicion that my mother wanted me dead. i always had this suspicion that she for reasons i was not privy to associated my existence with the death of her parents and resented me for it. it was hard to vocalise when i was younger -what a monumental accusation, that your mother wants you dead- and when i did i was rarely ever believed and i suppose over the years i cultivated this sense that i just did not belong. i used to always think, what's worse? what's this chewing hollow at the centre of my life? why do i feel like im being dragged to some inevitable monolithic Thing every day of my life? i was planning how to kill myself before i ever conceptualised growing up and getting big and having a life of my own. i thought- was i born wrong or was i made wrong? which one is it worse? the hopelessness of never having a choice in how i turned out, or the grief of having that choice taken away from me? and every year it got worse and there were flashes of it getting better and i became a hundred different people trying to rationalise the world and my lack of place in it and i wrote.

it's no secret my project is rife with tragedy and circularity and parents and children eating each other and failing each other, and this question, was i born wrong, was i made wrong, was there ever a choice for me, does that make it better or worse, and as naive as it is i was hoping that one day my father would be able to read it and he would understand. first there was the fantasy that one day he would come by my house and see me peering out the bay window and take me to live with him and i would finally be free from home- but as i grew older i just wanted him to understand. i thought if he could read my books and look me in the eye and say i'm sorry i left you to this i could say it's fine, i never resented you, i love you, and i could say to my mother i love you and i don't know how to live with how it's been for us that would salve some kind of wound. this used to drive me up the wall. my dad is old. he likely won't be around for when i finally finish my tragedy series, because i want it to be good, something that could outlive me, and i have so many more things to plan and so much to write, and he likely won't ever read any of it, and i wonder often if it's worth writing at all.

anyways. earlier this year i finally gleaned the answer to the question: was i born wrong or made wrong. i'll never know which one is worse, because it turns out the answer is both. i was born and made wrong. in the midst of an argument about the nature of my upbringing (classic WHY DID YOU TURN OUT LIKE THIS and emotionally ripping strips out of me until i unfortunately broke and responded in turn with the ol WHY DID YOU DO ALL OF THAT TO ME) my mother revealed to me as an argument failsafe, as a trick lever, as a GOTCHA! to turn the argument in her favour that i was a child of rape or at the very least sexual coercion. my father raped or coerced or assaulted my mother, and when they separated the ensuing custody battle meant that she wasnt able to return to her home country as her father died, and her mother never recovered from the grief, and died soon after. i am the remnant of the Bad Thing. i am the face of the Bad Thing. i am the mocking face of the Good Life she could have had if not for the Bad Thing.

before i knew this i told my mother i understand. i understand why you do the things you do. mum, i understand. when she told me shouting that sure she may have done a few unsavoury things over the course of my life, but surely her financial support of me outweighs it all, i told her i understand, mum. i forgive you. i already forgave you. i said i don't know how to live with how much i understand. i don't know what to do with all of this. she pointed at the open window of the apartment she was staying in and told me to jump if i could not live with it. she would take the window in the other room, and we'd be free from each other.

knowing what i know now i just don't know how to live with all of it. born wrong and made wrong. my mother's life rests on me my father's life rests on me my stepfather's life rests on me and i can't make it better for any of them. in the last correspondence with my father, itself the first time i was able to contact him for years, he told me how proud he was of my work and how far i'd come and how much he and my czech uncles missed me. apparently we're not even czech, we're russo-ukrainian. apparently my father and his brothers fled czecha to new zealand when they were young men. apparently my father was the runt of three. at the end of his email to me he wrote please forgive me. please forgive me. i love you, shaarka. the name my babicka gave me when i was young, the only name that's felt like mine. apparently he has three or four children now, all afterimages of me, all spawned after the nightmare of his relationship with my mother. everyone in my family lies. i don't know what's true. no one in my day to day life can understand the magnitude of the disconnect i feel from my life, or the grief i experience, or how hard it is to live with.

i am grateful for the life i have and the people that i love though i have to fight to live in it and i have to fight for the chance to be someone they could love too. it's hard for me to be loved. it's hard for me to be happy. born wrong and made wrong. convinced by my mother i was destined to suffer and fail and die and i know in my heart she never expected the things she did to damage me in any way, because now when i see her there's true horror in her eyes when i speak. born and shaped perfect by my mother's careful hand and harrowing experience, only to turn out like this. me, the self-fulfilling prophecy, writing books about tragedies and faith and my parents and God and the inability to differentiate between them. what do i do with that. what do i do with it all. i was right all along. she would have aborted me if not for the cultural stigma. neither she nor my dad wanted me when i was born and there i was anyways.

i have a dead sounding voice. i struggle with ordinary eye contact. sometimes my friends can't look me in the eye and they tell me it's because it feels like someone else is staring out at them instead. my partner says my stare unsettles people. it unsettled him for a good while. i don't know how to live in this life. i don't know how to life. i was planning to kill myself when i moved out of the house with the best friends i'd ever had and here i am. here i am with what i know and some chasm between me and every other person i've ever met fighting and failing to chart the distance.

i don't know. i don't know what i'm doing. when i started putting writing online and i first received messages that said this helped me put my hand on a nameless thing, this made me feel seen, this made me feel held, this touched me and allowed me to touch it, i thought, i really thought Oh My God. if i can make one person feel like someone else in the world understands The Insurmountable Thing, the knowledge that cannot be lived with, then it's all worth it. i never really felt like i was meant for the world. if i could reach out and tap the shoulder of someone else and let them know it's not just you it would have been all worth it. here i am with my miserable story about mind-destroying epiphanies and irreversible clarity and horrible transformations and family as the mouth that swallows you and the belly that digests you and the people that i've shared my work with irl laugh a little about how i so desperately need to get it out, and about how lightless and bleak and gnawing it is, and well, that's how it is. that's how it is sometimes. that's just how things are sometimes.

i don't know what i'm doing, man. all i can do is fight to keep going. i've outlasted each one of my deadlines for suicide and now i have to live. when i pick up the phone and listen to my mother gush about what she got from the farmer's market i wish i was dead. she's so happy, you know? she's so happy when i'm not there. when she can just interact with the faceless concept of me. when she doesn't have to look me in the eye. i love her so much. i love my dad. i miss wanting to be like him when i grew up. i love my stepdad. i know that he loves me because he came from an abusive home and he doesn't want me to resign myself to the life he resigned himself to. i miss the time before what i know now. i miss being younger when i believed there was a chance things could be different and i miss being a teenager and at least armoured by the certainty of how wrong how it was all going to go.

oh my god, it's so much. i thank god for the life i have but it's so much. it's so much and every year the space between me and everything else widens. every year i get more tired.

#dellete #mention of SA #mention of child abuse #mention of suicide

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bladeofthestars · 4 months

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i'm sorry i wasn't able to get your birthday off again this year, dad.

i always forget to ask for it off until it's too late. the job i have this year probably would've said no anyway, it's really busy right now. i'll only miss it by a few days, though, because my last day there will be soon after.

next year i promise i'll remember. i'll take the whole day off and drive over to your place myself since i have my own car now. we can do whatever you want, all day. maybe we'll go to kroger to pick up some ingredients and some movies from the redbox. we'll cook some fancy dinner together that takes way too long, but it'll be delicious, then we'll sit down and watch a movie. i won't even complain that it's a historical fiction yet again.

you'll fall asleep on the movie and i'll sit and watch it to the end, then wake you up. i'll be intending to go home since it's clear to me that you're tired, but you'll insist you're fine. in fact, you'll insist on busting out the ol' n64 so you can school me in pokemon puzzle league, just like the old days.

we'll stay up way too late playing games and drinking mountain dew. you'll talk about how we need to start up a game of risk next time i come over and i'll tell you about all the waaaayyyyy better strategy board games i could introduce you to instead. next time i come over we'll end up doing both anyway.

when i go home you'll demand that i text you when i'm home safe. despite you falling asleep on the movie earlier, you'll be awake to respond when i get home. you're also awake to respond when i call you on my way home from work the next day just to chit chat during my drive. you always have time to talk to me.

we'll get together plans for some of my more ambitious camping trip ideas. we'll visit a mountain range that you've never heard of but i'm excited about in the fall. a bit after i get home from my drive i'll try to end the call because we all the time anyway, we don't need to have a two hour long conversation right then. it ends up being a two hour conversation anyway, and i'll complain about it to my partner later, but i won't really mind all that much. it's nice to always be able to count on having someone to talk to when i'm lonely.

yeah. next year'll be nice, huh?

#personal #in an alternate universe somewhere we're happy #everything is beautiful and nothing hurts #and i'll hold my thoughts of that alternative universe you and me close to my heart #just to keep it alive #i love you. i miss you. talk atcha again later okay?

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sofiiel · 1 year

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There & Back Again | Chapter 6

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

↰𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 |

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 3,930

At the end of the school day, Myrtle perched herself atop the hood of her car, her knees drawn to her chest. "I can't believe you hugged them," she thought to herself, "or that you balled all over him." Myrtle hide her face in her arms, "or that you cried so hard your nose ran, god he must think you're gross," she murmured.

Myrtle lifted her head to look at the sky, "I wonder if Robin needs a ride home. I still never faced her today." she thought.

Then again, maybe it was for the best, after all - she couldn't take Robin with her to check on Amy. That would also be a hard one to explain.

"Oh, and how do you two know each other? Oh, well you know survived a horrible sex party together, ran back into each other and I hid her from the police....you know as it goes." Myrtle thought to herself, instantly sucked into her frantic thoughts.

Eddie leaned on the hood of Myrtle's car, resting his head in his hands as he looked up at her, calmly waiting for her to notice him there.

Sure, he could call out to her, "but what's the fun in that?" He asked himself. Eventually, she would see him, and she would get that look, it was a little like startling a puppy.

Eddie smiled to himself, "I wanna be right where you look when you least expect to find someone." He hummed in his head. "I want to be your surprise."

As if his mind had spoken to her, Myrtle finally looked down, slipping a little from the hood of the car.

Eddie chuckled, "what was your horse racing against this time?" He asked her. Myrtle slipped off the hood altogether and twisted the ends of her hair between two fingers. "Umm....nothing really just, friend problems I guess." she murmured.

"Well, do you want to talk about it?" Eddie asked, hooking his thumbs into his pants pockets. Myrtle peered down at the ground still fiddling with her hair, "Or you know....not, that's fine too." Eddie said, "sometimes it helps to see from an outside perspective. I mean, think of how much easier it would have been for Frodo Baggins if he could have asked the readers if they thought Smeagol was two-faced." He said.

Myrtle glanced up at him and couldn't help but smile.

The tiny smile on her face made Eddie's heartbeat quicken as he grinned down at her.

"Or if someone could have warned Bilbo to carry some bug spray." He added. He wanted that smile to stay, he wanted to turn into a giggle, and "I'm going to drive myself crazy-er, trying to keep that smile there." he thought.

Eddie had fully realized he was probably overshooting his shot, but he had grand designs on getting a date, summer was coming up fast and if he was going to have time to get closer, He needed her to want him around after the school hours ended.

"I'll probably screw up one way or another, hit the BFF blanket, and fly right over the boyfriend material or some shit." Eddie thought to himself, "and then there's the shock and horror of good ol' dad trying to run me out of town with my reputation." He mentally sighed.

"And she probably wouldn't want the freak." He thought his head tilting as he watched her face, "Look at her, fantasy nerd or not she probably dreams of some...pretty stud who could lift her over his head on the field of the winning game." Eddie's thoughts started to create a nervous knot in his stomach and without realizing it he began to twirl his own hair.

Myrtle watched as Eddie's seemed to be staring right through her, she glanced behind her but saw nothing. "Um" she hummed, daring to take a step closer, peering up at him, she waved her hand before his face, "Eddie?" she asked.

With a small twitch of his body, Eddie snapped free of his thoughts, "huh? Sorry... I swear I meant to listen...." He said with a sheepish smile.

Myrtle matched his smile, "It seems I'm not the only one who's got race horses up in there, huh?" she asked.

"It would seem so," Eddie said, he gestured his hand out to her, "But...It lost its race. I'm serious if you need someone to talk to. I'm all ears." He said.

Myrtle exhaled, "there's no way I can tell him all the details. I can be vague, though. Maybe it'll be enough?" she thought.

"Well.... Robin kind of hurt my feelings...she didn't mean to, I just... overreacted, it hit some.....sensitivities? I guess. And I don't know how to go up and say I'm sorry. I can't build up the courage and I haven't seen her all day, which is odd, so I think she's avoiding me." Myrtle confessed.

Once the words got going, they wouldn't stop.

"She's the only friend I have here, and she means a lot to me. I can't afford to mess up," she murmured. "I'm told I'm hard to put up with." She murmured.

"If you're hard to put up with, people are a lot more squishy than I thought they were," Eddie said.

Myrtle looked back down at her hands, "anyway...you're talking about Buckley...that, kind of spaztic girl in the marching band?" Eddie asked. Myrtle giggled, "that's Robin."

"People overreact from time to time, it happens. It's not a critical hit for a friendship. If anything," Eddie sighed, offering Myrtle a reassuring smile, "she was giving you time to cool down. I'm sure she's probably just as freaked out. If you talk to her, it'll be fine again." He said.

"You think?" Myrtle asked timidly, Eddie winked.

"I'm positive, you're a magnet McKinney, you pull people in." he said. Eddie's eyes spotted Chelsea sulking amongst her friends as they headed to a pink convertible. "Even if it's the wrong kinds of people for the wrong kinds of reasons." he murmured.

Myrtle glanced over her shoulder to see Chelsea and her crew drive off, spotting Myrtle, one of the girls kindly gave her the finger. In an instant, both of Eddie's hands flew up in response. "Back at you!" He shouted out, a long disapproving scowl on his face.

"Eddie!" Myrtle gasped.

"You weren't gonna do it, and someone had to." He reasoned, "It's not nice to flip off a girl." Myrtle said. Eddie squinted his eyes, "Oh right, because that's a girl?" He asked with a hard roll of his eyes.

"I'll have you know what you just faced today was a whole...well" Eddie leaned forward and whispered, "have you ever seen The Deadly Spawn?" He asked.

Myrtle burst into laughter, covering her mouth with both hands. "That's mean!" she shouted between giggles. "Yeah, well, she's mean. So it's perfectly fair, isn't it?" He hummed.

Myrtle shook her head, "I've got to go... I'll see you on Monday." She said, walking past him to the driver's side of her car. " Summer vacation starts next Tuesday you know, you think about coming to our show?" Eddie asked, holding her car door open for her.

Myrtle bit her lip, "I'd like to go" she thought to herself, "but.... Dad's probably got a schedule already planned out for me" she sighed mentally, already feeling drained from the thought of it. As she looked up at him in silence, Eddie tilted his head back.

"Riiight, just tell me this," he said glancing about before lowering his voice, "it's because of your old man right? And not because I sounded like a dying animal on stage today right?" he asked, voice fading from serious to playful as his eyes crinkled into a smile.

"Huh, no, no of course not you and the guys were great up there...." Myrtle said quickly from the seat of her car. Eddie beamed, But it faltered as a worried glimmer filled Myrtle's eyes and she looked away.

"But yes Dads...a little....wait -" Myrtle sent a concerned glance towards Eddie? "How do you?" she asked.

"My Uncle works under your Dad, says most people aren't fond of him because he's a bit of a tight ass." Eddie said with a shrug. "And between that and him not answering his own daughter's phone call in the middle of the night - past the middle of the night. It's not hard to piece up that the guy is a bit of an asshole...no offense." Eddie confessed.

"N-none taken." Myrtle stammered, sighing heavily as she started the car.

"It's not because of you or the band," she said quietly, turning to look at him, she gave an apologetic smile, "all I can say is I'll try, and I want to go. But I can't promise anything, unfortunately." Myrtle said.

"I'll take it," Eddie offered a smile and started backing away from her car, turning he could see his friends waiting for him near his Van across the parking lot.

Myrtle sat in her seat watching him go, her heart pounding in her chest. "You should thank him again....he saved you from at least total humiliation." Myrtle thought. She shut her eyes tight, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles hurt.

"Just do it and regret it later," she told herself.

"Eddie?" Myrtle called out.

Eddie stopped, turning back around he looked at her with a question on his face, a giant smile quickly forming as she waved him over.

"You change your mind?" He asked, leaning down to the level of the window.

Myrtle looked at him baffled, she had planned on it being a quick thank you but he'd just ruined it. "um...n-no, I just...." Myrtle's face slowly turned red as she leaned around to the side of his face.

Eddie's eyes grew wide, and his heart skipped a beat, It hardly felt as if her lips had touched him at all, but they left a lingering warmth on his right cheek.

"You're grinning like a fucking idiot, Munson." He told himself, but try as he might, he couldn't stop.

"Thank you again for the save today," Myrtle said, her words nearly rushing together as her eyes tried to look everywhere but at him.

Backing away from the window, Eddie gave a playful bow, "milady Tinúviel," He said, only causing Myrtle's cheeks to redden further. "Whenever you need me." Eddie added dramatically, placing his right fist to his left shoulder, "If I can, I will." He said.

Myrtle cleared her throat and gave a nervous giggle, "you're a lot, Eddie." she said, shaking her head. "I get that," he said, waving, "have a good weekend, McKinney." He called, finally heading back to his friends.

Myrtle rolled up her window and briefly covered her face, mentally screaming. "You just did that." She thought to herself, leaning back on the headrest.

Myrtle tried to catch her breath before backing out of the parking lot.

Eddie had tried to walk calmly back to his van, but once he'd seen Myrtle leave up the street, he nearly pranced over to his friends on the balls of his feet. "Did you see that!" he cheered, nearly dancing in place, his hand held to his cheek.

Gareth shook his head, "I can't believe your luck sometimes." He said, to which Eddie smirked.

Before heading home, Myrtle stopped at the old Creel Mansion. Going around back and slipping into the hidden entrance. Her eyes were wide as she looked around, while the place was no less dusty, it was certainly made more of a resting place.

A tent made of blankets and pillows had been stacked into a fort of sorts in one corner, a small fold-out table held a battery-powered radio, and the floor was littered with snack bags and pried open cans of food.

Amy sat in her fort, munching on Sardines. She watched Myrtle look around amazed, gray eyes stuck on the flashlight hanging from the ceiling. "Pretty neat, huh?" Amy said with pride.

"You're certainly...an old hat at this." Myrtle said quietly.

"And here I was worried." she exhaled, looking down at Amy.

Amy grinned and held out a bag of cheese puffs, "want some?" she asked. Myrtle shook her head and knelt down on the ground. "I can't" she muttered. Amy made a face, "what? Don't tell me you're allergic to cheese...that would be a sad affair." she said, tossing a puff into the air and catching it in her mouth.

Myrtle smiled faintly, "No, um..." she paused, she could tell Amy right? After all, who would she tell?

"I pissed my mom off last night, wasn't listening to one of her near-constant rants on how much of a disappointment I am and how amazing she used to be...." Myrtle sighed, "So I'm not allowed to eat today until She deems I have learned my lesson." She said.

Amy leaned her head back and scowled, "bullshit!" she called shoving the bag towards myrtle "go on, scarf it!" she said, "that bitch can't tell if you've eaten shit!" she raged.

Myrtle carefully handed her back the snack bag. "Actually...you'd be surprised..." Myrtle sighed. Amy snorted and laughed, "what? Does she smell your breath? Check your teeth for residue?" she joked.

Myrtle wanted to crawl into a hole at how ridiculous it all did sound, "and my toothbrush bristles, backpack, and car for crumbs, wrappers, or condiment spills..." she explained.

Amy's mouth tumbled open as she leaned forward. "Shit," she whispered. "Shit! You're not kidding!" she gasped.

Myrtle shook her head and her stomach growled loudly, "no, trust me, I'd kill that whole bag if I could." she sighed, getting to her feet. "I came to check in on you, I should head back home, I'll try to come back tomorrow." Myrtle said, heading back to the window.

"Try not to get into too much trouble in your searching." she warned, before climbing out.

Myrtle trudged into her house, into the kitchen, where she found her mother waiting, clad in one of her beautifully made dress suits. Myrtle could remember the days when she wanted to be just like her. Eleven years old and trying to fit into her high hills and jewelry. Often getting playfully chased around the house so that she might get her earrings back before it was time to leave for work.

The memory of that smile back then made the sneer on her mother's face now soul-crushing.

"I'm home," Myrtle spoke quietly, setting her backpack on the counter she slid it over to her Mother. With a skeptical glance, she started to rummage through the bag.

Myrtle bit her lip and watched. There shouldn't be anything in there, but the 'What if' was always nauseating. A crumb, a candy paper, a whiff of anything edible would mean another day to learn.

"It's clear, come here." Her mother demanded, before Myrtle could move forward, her mother's long fingers reached out and snatched her wrist, drawing a yelp from Myrtle who lunged forward.

"I w-was coming!" Myrtle shrieked, "don't talk back to me!" her mother growled, giving Myrtle a shake.

Falling silent, Myrtle shut her eyes tightly, she didn't mean to speak out, it just flew from her. The back of her mother's hand swatted her jaw, "open up." Her mother demanded. Myrtle opened her mouth wide, and her chin became pinched in her mother's grasp. Myrtle let her mother tilt her head around, looking at the back of her teeth.

Pushed away roughly by her face, Myrtle took frantic steps away from her mother.

"I didn't touch anything all day," she said quickly.

"It seems that way, I will be checking your car, later. For now, no dinner." Her mother said. Myrtle deflated but gave a nod, "yes Ma'am." she murmured, collecting her backpack and heading for the stairs.

On her way up she spotted Patrick coming down the stairs, He gave her a hard glare, "w-what's wrong?" Myrtle asked. "You are, why'd you embarrass me like that today?" He asked.

"I-" the air left Myrtle's lungs.

"I didn't...that wasn't me, Chelsea made me - she's evil, Pat." she reasoned. "Right, because you couldn't just not show up to the stupid thing? Or at least reject the dumb costume?" Patrick raged.

Myrtle blinked a few times, "he thinks it was a school event...." she thought, "Pat it wasn't a real event! Nobody volunteered," she said, shaking her head. "Chelsea was getting revenge for-"

Myrtle watched as Patrick shoved by her.

"I don't even care, I tried to tell dad, but big surprise! He didn't care. The McKinney princess just got praise for being so active in school...could hear him gushing about his 'sweet little girl' to his co-workers in the background." Patrick grumbled, continuing down the stairs.

With a huff of air, Myrtle looked about the stairwell baffled, frustrated tears started to well up. Taking a deep breath, she continued to her room. She wanted to slam the door, to shout, but that would end badly. So, closing it as softly as she could, Myrtle dropped her bag and collapsed onto her bed.

Face down into the pillow, she hugged it, and let her mind scream for her. The lights of her room flickered softly.

She could feel the spider's legs as they crawled onto her arms, and up her shaking shoulders. A startling amount that would prompt anyone to call and report an infestation.

But you don't fear the things that are gentle with you.

Myrtle shut her eyes, "So water?" she could hear Eddie's voice in her memory.

Myrtle opened her eyes, "coming right up." she heard.

Rolling carefully onto her back, she held her pillow to her chest, feeling the spiders crawl to safer places, "Here you go." his voice echoed.

She didn't know why that part of the memory was stuck in her head. But closing her eyes again she felt her rushing thoughts and heart rate slow. A calm slowly seeped over her and before she knew it, sleep had taken its hold.

"Myrtle!"

Mr. McKinney's voice boomed from downstairs.

Myrtle jolted awake and hopped out of bed, quickly running down the hall and stairs, into the living room. She stood straight with her eyes fixed on her father, compared to her rigid posture he was completely relaxed, looking through a daily planner in his hands.

Myrtle clasped her hands behind her back. "Yes, Sir?" she asked.

"Patrick told me about your show of school spirit today well done," He said, voice pleased while Myrtle inwardly cringed, "school spirit? Try a personal hell." she thought.

"It went over well with the CEO, He's impressed that I could raise such a selfless young lady who would go as far as wearing a humiliating costume to show respect to those who've taken time out of their lives to help further her in life." He said with a smirk.

"Even if both you and I know, that's not entirely what happened, is it?" He snickered.

Myrtle remained silent.

"Anyway, I have your schedule planned for the weekend." He started clearing his throat. "Mr. Ford would like to see you again, and to...apologize for the behavior of his other dinner guest." He said.

Myrtle could feel the blood rush away from her limbs and face, "dinner guest?" She thought bitterly.

"Yes Sir...what time?" She asked.

"Sunday, night around ten pm." He answered, "Your dress is in the cleaners, you'll need to pick that up tomorrow as early as you can."

Myrtle gave a nod, "yes sir." she droned.

"Tomorrow you will also be meeting with Pastor Alvin to discuss, helping with VBS this summer," said Mr. McKinney. Myrtle's teeth sunk into her bottom lip. "B-but...you said last year was my last year." She stammered, voice breaking.

Mr. McKinney glanced up at her with eyes void of emotion as he slowly set down his planner. "Now, now you owe Pastor Alvin a great deal. If not for him, we'd have never been pushed through your adoption process as fast as we were." He said.

"And He helped us prepare a space for you in our home, he baptized you, remember?" Her father asked.

Bitter tears welled into Myrtle's eyes. "How could I forget." she whispered, her insides hurt just at the memory. Swallowing hard, Myrtle tried to hold back her tears.

"We have a lot to be grateful for, one more year won't kill you." He chuckled. Myrtle looked down at her feet.

"Won't it?" she thought.

"Anyway, the meeting won't be long, from there I need you to go out to and inspect Lover's lake for me for the next couple of days." He said.

"Lovers lake?" Myrtle questioned. "Why yes, I was tasked to look over the area and find where would be a good place for a new project the plant wants to have built, a cooling system. However, I've not the time to handle it personally." He said.

"I don't know what makes a good place for-"

"I have a list prepared that will tell you what you are looking for." Mr. McKinney stated.

Myrtle gave a feeble nod, "right...yes Sir." she sighed.

Her father reached for a plain gift bag sitting beside him. "For handling the situation at the Dinner as well as you did, Ford suggested I go out and get you a gift." Her father sang.

Myrtle's eyes fell on the bag being held out before her with a hollow stare. Her fingers reluctantly reached out and took the handles from his hands.

"Well, open it." He said, offering a conceited smile.

With soft rustling, Myrtle drew out a long silk and lace dress, held up by dainty straps, and floated on white soft tulle below. What hurt more than anything was that it was the very same dress she had been looking at longingly earlier that year when Prom had come around.

Myrtle could remember standing before the dress store, daydreaming. She could see herself in that dress as some faceless prince took to the dance floor with her.

And now the dream was horribly tainted.

Myrtle tried to control her breathing as she clutched the dress. It was hard to fight the tears this time. "Don't worry, your arms and legs should be healed by the time you find a use for it." Her father said, causing Myrtle's head to snap up in surprise. "I've gotten you a longer dresses for your meetings." He said.

Before Myrtle could react, the front door slammed, the furious footsteps of her mother rushing in. "You honestly thought I wouldn't find this?" She shrieked.

Startled, Myrtle turned around, wide eyes stuck on the empty bag of cookies in her mother's hands in confusion. "What?" Myrtle asked, "Don't act stupid, this came from your car!" her mother shouted.

Myrtle shook her head, "no, it didn't - I don't even eat those things." she said, her voice coming out in a whine as she backed away.

Her father watched the two with disinterest on his face.

"Yeah, well, you just bought yourself another four days." Her mother mused with a snarling smile, tossing the wrapper onto the floor.

"I...I have dinner with Mr. Ford." Myrtle said, glancing back at her father for help. "Oh...well, you'll have to kindly explain you've got a terrible stomach bug." Her mother sang. "Until you learn how to respect your mother, you will learn how to live like a child without one. Starved." She hissed.

Myrtle slipped her dress back into the bag. "Yes Ma'am" she said, retreating into herself.

"Good, pick up the wrapper and to bed with you." her mother said. Myrtle did as she was told quickly.

Watching her daughter head up the stairs, Ms. McKinney turned a sharp eye to her husband. "You see the things you push me to do?" she barked.

"Dear, it's not my fault you're a jealous old shrew, if you wanted a dress of your own you simply could ask." He muttered, collecting his things.

"It's not about the dress, Gregory!" She snapped, watching him walk off into the kitchen.

|𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭↱

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katefromoveryonder · 2 years

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Why don't I drive? Well, I tell you what. I was born on December 15th. My sister-in-law, Jenni Peek, was born on December 14th (different year), a young woman who worked at Malaprops was born on December 16th. A man Mark met when he was in the hospital in Roanoke was born December 14th. And what we all have in common is none of us drive. The other thing the ones I know like Jenni and the woman from Malaprops and myself have in common is our ruling sign, Jupiter, is retrograde. We travel the inner highways, but don't need the expansion of seeing the world to feel like we are getting somewhere.

As a teenager, I hated cars. I never saw one I thought was pretty until I got much older. (I like the old Mercedes, the Crown Victoria, and a 1954 Chevy truck, the 70's trucks with a visor -- hat brim -- and the international semi from way back).

I did dutifully go to sign up from Driver's Ed when I was in Junior High, but the woman signing people up was this big gruff tank named Doris and she bitched that I was late and now she'd have to pencil me in and glared so hard I left ole' Doris to it. It did not help that she had the same name as me and the pig from Green Acres. I never called myself Doris anyway and figured she could have the name and driver's ed -- I didn't know enough back then to tell her what she could do with her pencil.

I love walking. And I loved living where I could walk anywhere I needed to go. Except home. And for that, I took a Greyhound Bus.

But now, I need to drive. So I am doing that. I'll stick me some flowers on that grey-green truck and I'll hunt up all the traveling songs and buy myself a tent for the back. Who knows where I'll go. Wheels aren't so bad, once you ignore the fact they are destroying the world.

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dizzydennis · 3 years

Text

Sonic x Rouge Cover Story (Part 2)

Translator note: Thank you for checking out Part 2 of Rouge’s cover story. I have no idea why it was separated like this, but it’s fine in the end. I am not fluent in Japanese and I am still learning how to be a better translator. Please note that there will likely be mistakes in my work here, but I hope you enjoy the story. Also, I am busy with work and didn’t have the luxury of working on my laptop for this one. While riding a Shinkansen, I typed this out on my phone. If there are any mistakes, please forgive me.

Within the center of Eggman Land, there is a deep vertical hole deep in the ground that goes over 100 meters down.

This was the site of the “Gaia Temple.”

The temple, which once stood for the "healing" of this planet, was tucked into the underground of Eggman Land, but emerged during a big battle and is now sleeping deep in the depths of the planet.

At the bottom of this hole was a figure that landed silently. After looking around carefully, this person said in an overly satisfied tone:

"Huh. It seems that all those robots that gathered together to get Sonic. All for little ol’ me! ♪"

This person was Rouge the Bat. When she looked at the radar she was carrying she could see Sonic was a ways off; just as planned.

"Everybody should get a friendly little hedgehog friend!~"

It seemed certain that she pushed the enemy towards Sonic and to drive them as far away as possible. Then, on the contrary, Sonic was heading for this very spot.

Soon after reaching the deepest part of the tall rock spires of the temple, Rouge found a stone that was dimly shining through the darkness, picked it up, and gracefully pressed it against her cheek.

“I finally found you! And you’re just such a cutie!”

"... Who are you talking to and what are you saying?"

When asked from behind, Rouge looked blankly forward with the stone still on her cheek.

"Oh ...? Did you abandon your work? That’s pretty naughty, Sonic."

Rouge's expression, as she slowly looked back and asked, returned to her usual graceful smile.

“Well, I know you’re the worst kind of lady and I couldn't help it," Sonic answered with an obnoxious grin.

Knowing the location of the Chaos Emerald with the energy detector, Sonic noticed Rouge's plan to use him to allow her a chance to take the gem and so… he quickly showed up here.

The communicator that was informing her of his position would still be spinning on rotation.

"So, what are ya going to do with that Chaos Emerald?"

Rouge smiled and returned without any fear.

"Well, I was thinking that I’d bring it home … What do you say to that?"

Rouge continued, shifting her gaze from the ring on Sonic’s left hand to the Chaos Emerald.

“You’ll soon realize the value of a better gem when one comes around.”

With that said, she slammed a smoke bomb, that she took out from in-between her breasts, on the ground.

<< BANG! >> >>

The area was covered with white smoke.

"Hey! What about our deal earlier!?"

When Sonic shook off the smoke, Rouge had already grabbed on to a large escape balloon and was rising into the sky.

"... Well that takes care of that! My investigation has already ended ♪ You were very useful for the time being, so I will share my intel as promised. Eggman Land’s power restarted because of that seven-colored shooting star ... and the Chaos Emerald accidentally fell here. "

The setup was a little crazy, but Rouge got the Chaos Emerald anyway. She began talking to earn time to escape.

“Well look at that, the Gaia Temple that was previously here was also a power spot for the Chaos Emeralds, right? Perhaps because of that, it seems the underground temple responded to all that Chaos Energy and began to spread energy around the area.”

Sonic didn’t seem to move at all.

"Well, I gave it some thought... If I were to come down here then I might happen upon a Chaos Emerald myself.”

So that was it. Sonic began to speak back.

"OK, but the Chaos Emeralds don’t really belong to anyone. They’ve just been used by some of us when the world was really in a pinch.”

It didn’t matter to Rouge as she let out a soft, “But…"

"But what?"

“But… isn’t it just great to be able to dig in and steal it?”

The next moment Sonic grinned as he dashed towards Rouge.

"!?"

Sonic used the slopes of the rock pillars to spin dash into the sky. As he crossed by Rouge, he grabbed the Chaos Emerald right from her hand.”

"Oh! You thief!"

With a wink, Sonic fell to the bottom of the vertical hole with a huge smile across his face. Rouge was at a loss for words and swooped down to catch up to him!

<< RUMBLE ...! >> >>

Suddenly, all the lights in Eggman Land shut off and the planet shook violently.

A plethora of dazzling streaks of light rose from the very bottom of the vertical hole. The lights shot out in countless directions, and the entire place was engulfed with light once Sonic landed.

The five Chaos Emeralds that Sonic had in his possession started to shine brightly as if they were responding to the lights below.

"What is this......!?"

A glow returned to the darkened and drained Chaos Emeralds.

Maybe it's because five Chaos Emeralds were gathered in the same place where the Gaia Temple used to be. Perhaps it was because Sonic has a deep connection with the temple. Either way, some slumbering power had “found” the Chaos Emerald.

Rouge, who was watching this from the sky, was completely awestruck at such a beautiful scene.

Moreover, the darkness that has spread across the entire temple was washed out as huge particles of light seemed to cut out through the engravings along the side of the large hole. They became even more gorgeous as they shined in seven bright colors.

It looked like a fancy jewel placed on top of high quality black velvet fabric.

"...!"

Rouge glanced at its beauty with longing eyes as she let out a sigh.

For the realist that Rouge was: gems that are unobtainable are truly worthless. However, the hint of "better jewels" still being out there made Rouge happy.

... She could hear Sonic calling from far below her feet.

"Hey! Are you going to come back for it?”

Sonic was shouting with the Chaos Emerald in his hand. It was if he wasn’t going to put up a fight at all.

Of course, she wasn’t going to give up on this real jewel. Right now, no matter what went down in Eggman Land, people’s hearts don’t change. Rouge squinted her eyes and made a confident smile. She pretended to give up and assessed her chances for a surprise attack.

“Well… I lost. I don’t need a sneaky hedgehog’s emerald anyway! Besides—”

<< Crack ...! >> >>

As Rouge flew, the circumference of the hole began cracking apart as the planet shook again.

<< RUMBLE ...! >> >>

"What!? What’s happening this time!?”

A vertical hole that was originally struck in an unnatural shape ... I couldn't stand the torrent of light. The vertical hole couldn’t withstand the barrage of light. The buildings and attractions of Eggman Land fell as if they were caught in an avalanche. The whole thin collapsed.

...... Now’s the time to strike!

If Rouge could get off a surprise move now, she could possibly get all five of Sonic’s emeralds! However, Sonic was able to avoid a giant Eggman statue that had collapsed and fallen in. Sonic slipped back and fell into the smoke.

Sonic would be fine in a situation like this. Rouge, however, concentrated all of her cunning towards an overhead surprise attack once the smoke settled.

But then ...

"I'm sorry to have kept a lady waiting, but I can’t give much more of an apology, right? By the way, what were you trying to tell me earlier?"

Rouge was hearing Sonic's cocky voice from the communicator.

Rouge dropped her head in sadness. Sonic had already escaped. Also, his communicator must was very far away from where he was ... Rouge realized that it was impossible to catch up with him.

Really, this guy does every single thing he wants to, doesn’t he?

"It's so annoying. I now have nothing!"

Saying that, Rouge got rid of her communicator and let her escape balloon go too. She then angrily flew into the sky.

Sonic, on the other hand, almost instantly returned to his usual demeanor with a cheeky expression. Before running off, he left a last message on his communicator despite the fact that nobody would hear it.

"Well, Rouge. Did you enjoy yourself today?"

The night was soon erased by a wave of light. Morning had come to Eggman Land, the place for hopes and desire.

The amusement park, which welcomed two guests during its bustling night of resurrection had collapsed and fallen completely silent. Now, it seemed nothing more than a set of ruins. Casting a dark shadow onto the new morning.

With that in mind, Rouge, who ended up going home empty-handed, was flying in the sky with horrid thoughts in her mind. However, she suddenly went silent when she thought about the jewel of light she saw.

Even so, it was overwhelming. That unrealistic beauty it had... What if Rouge could just know how valuable it was?

"... Well, you’ll just have to find it for yourself then!"

"Motivation" is the "ideal jewel". Maybe there was some value in this, depending on how you think about it.

Let's leave things as they are. Rouge was in a good mood as these thoughts raced through her mind. She then flew off into the sunrise.

“I'll definitely get all the jewels I want anyway! All jewels in the world are my mine to keep! ♪”

#sonic the hedgehog #rouge the bat #sonic unleashed #sonic adventure 2 #dr eggman #sega

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