in your embrace
i wanted to be hurt by love
am i comic-ing correctly
@ fellow kink community members: please check your sources. I’ve noticed people on numerous occasions reblogging vent posts from abuse survivors to their kink blogs, because they look ‘aesthetic’ or fit into their fantasies. Please do not inadvertently sexualize real people’s actual trauma.
I’m emotional again because I feel like I could die by suicide or from doing something reckless and my family would feel validated that they were right. They’re not wrong and I’m just overemotional or unstable. They can’t accept any fucking responsibility or accountability in how they treat me. It fucking pisses me off. Growing up with emotionally unavailable parents really fucked me up. They never did anything difficult for me? My mom loves building shit and buying shit – she did a lot of that for me. My dad loves finances and would organize my life. Now I feel like I OWE them? But they’re failing to understand me in my new exploration of gender and gaslighting me into believing that are. When I tell them they’re not, they tell me I’m too sensitive. It’s never THEM. I’m tired of dealing with emotional baggage from OTHER people. I have enough of my own emotional/mental baggage to deal with. I blocked my entire family out of my life today. Blocked their numbers and all their social media platforms. I need to protect my peace. Good-fucking-bye.
I rose, turning around to head back when I stopped short. I exhaled, placing a hand on my chest. “Jeez… Chase, you scared the crap out of me.” I spoke. His head was bowed, staring at the ground. “Where did you get this outfit from? Did you find another wardrobe?” I asked, noticing the tattered overalls and straw hat. Rather than reply, he extended his arm a bit, stabbing the handle end of a pitchfork into the ground. I blinked. Why did that look so familiar-
“Get away from her.”
I gasped, jolting back as an eye filled with red hot anger, upon a face twisted with scars, bore into me. Without warning, the crazed man gripped the pitchfork with both hands, viciously trying to stab me with it. I collapsed to the ground to evade it, screaming frightfully as I sprung to my feet. I frantically stumbled around him, erratically running down the hill. After a few precious seconds, I whipped my head over my shoulder to see he wasn’t behind me. However, I didn’t slow down, and thank God I didn’t.
Not a moment later, I felt a sharp sting in the back of my leg, falling forward. I flipped on my back to see the his murderous eye staring at me, jabbing his pitchfork at me. He was as fast as lightning, and I barely evaded him as I crawled backwards. I finally managed to get to my feet again, my voice cracking as I cried. I begged him to stop to no avail, and I desperately looked for any means of sanctuary to run to. The barn was just ahead, far closer than the house. I made a run for it, nearly losing my balance as I whipped around. He was mere feet from barging inside when I slammed and locked the doors, the pitchfork piercing the wood just inches from my face.
My feet were planted for several tense moments before the metal points were yanked out, and I trembled as my mind tried to comprehend what just happened. I moved back, trembling as I went over to the back end of the barn, shutting the door and barring it. Locking myself in, I hugged myself, my eyes everywhere as I backed up along the empty horse stables. I eventually stopped, trying to catch my breath. My heart was racing, and I leaned against one of the horse stables to recuperate.
The sound of a soft thud behind me caught my attention then.
I whirled around, and I witnessed the man emerging out of the old coat hanging on the wall by the furthest horse stable. Without even making eye contact, he held the pitchfork parallel to the ground, swiftly pacing toward me. I screamed, running to the front entrance of the barn. In my frantic state, I nearly forgot to unlock the doors before pushing them open. Had I taken a moment longer, I would have been impaled as I burst though the doors.
The moment I ran back outside, I collided into him. I failed my arms, screaming and crying.
“Woah! Kara, what is it, what’s the matter?!”
I gasped, my vision focusing as my eyes darted all around in terror. “Who- where- where did he-”
“Hey, it’s me, it’s just me-” Chase gripped my shoulders, turning me around to face him. Realization began to settle in, and my brows twisted as I clung to him. “Kara, what happened?!” He exclaimed. “What were you doing in there?” He motioned to the barn.
“H- He tried to- he tried to kill me, he tried to-”
“What?! Who is it? Kara, who is it?!” When I couldn’t answer him, still in shock, he let go of me, storming toward the barn. “Hey! Get out here and fight me!” He shouted.
Horror gripped me. “Ch- Chase, no- Chase please come back!” My voice was hoarse, sobbing as he disappeared inside. I heard some thudding from within, and I sucked in a breath as I stumbled back to the wooden doors. “Chase!” I cried his name. “Chase please get out of there-”
The doors flung open as hands shot forward to grab me, forcing me backwards. He clenched his teeth as he shoved me to the ground. When I tried to escape him, he raised a hand into the air.
Seering pain followed as a rusty knife was plunged into my right forearm.
I shrieked in agony, shutting my eyes as I felt the savage man practically slice my arm open. I felt the horrible thing being yanked out after several agonizing moments, and then-
“Oh man, oh man!” Chase cried, knelt over me. He had the bloody knife in one hand, tossing it aside before he clutched the sides of his head. When I glanced over, all I could see was red pooling out of my arm, a puddle forming on the ground. Chase’s voice became muffled at this point, and I was swiftly lifted into his arms. Everything became a blur, air whipping against my face as I was rushed back to the house.
“That’s what he looked like.” I said to those gathered as Ambrosia mended my arm. Chase was sitting beside me, appearing perturbed. “I ran into the barn, and he somehow appeared in there.”
“How could he just ‘appear’ in there, lady Kara?” Jasmine asked.
“Don’t you see? He has to be another ghost.” I rationalized.
“What?! Not another one!” Viktor cried.
Arsenik was silent, not bothering to scold his nephew. He stared at the ground, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
“Chase.” Barium spoke up then. “Were you able to catch a glimpse of him?”
The Trold shook his head. “He must have ran off after he hurt Kara. When I came back to her, I saw… it was sticking out of her arm…” His voice trailed off.
“You didn’t see him when you were inside the barn?” I asked then.
“Huh?” Chase lifted his head to look at me. His eyes were still red from crying.
“After you ran inside… I was going to go in after you. That’s when he burst through the front doors and attacked me with the knife.”
Chase furrowed a brow. “No way. I checked all around in there. I kicked every stable door open. Also, you blocked the back way from the inside. He couldn’t have been in there with me. I would have seen him.” As he said this, Barium watched closely, taking note of our conversation. Wind listened intently. “He hurt you before you ran into me, didn’t he?”
I shook my head. “He attacked me while you were still inside.”
Chase shook his head in confusion. “But there’s no-… how could’ve…”
“I’ve already sent Onyx out to check the perimeter. If anyone is lurking, wherever they are, he will find them.” Barium reassured.
“But it doesn’t make any sense!” Chase exclaimed.
“Good thing he was there. If someone was trying to kill her… he may have been the one to stop it.” Night said, to everyone’s surprise. “It’s just interesting that they didn’t run into one another.”
I snapped to attention at the sound of Arsenik’s voice. “… Yes?”
“… When the older gentleman spoke to you a few days ago… did he not assure you that these spirits would bring no harm to you?” He asked. He gaze was still cast downward.
“Well, he… he said that many other people have stayed here, and nothing happened to them-”
“He told you that there was no need to fear these spirits. Is that correct?”
I hesitated for a moment. “Yeah… but clearly I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Arsenik shut his eyes for a few moments. “Please excuse me.” His voice sounded strained, rising to swiftly leave the room. I thought I had been mistaken, but I could have sworn he placed a gloved hand over his mouth as he rounded the corner.
Just then, Onyx returned. “Your majesty…” Barium stood, giving the executioner his attention. “… I found no others on the grounds.”
Ambrosia didn’t answer him at first, staring at the wall where the painting had hung. “What about it could have frightened her so…?”
“Hey, Earth to Ambrosia. You’re weirding me out.”
Ambrosia’s shoulders tensed as she snapped to attention. “Ah, forgive me, sir X. I have many things on my mind at the present time.”
The mattress shifted, and she felt a pair of muscular arms envelop her in an embrace. Ambrosia was surprised, to say the least. She glanced up at the man draped in a silouhette, uncharacteristic of a man who had the capability to bathe himself in light.
“If there is anything here that’s trying to start something… you 'n’ me’ll make it out. We didn’t rot in a prison and we’re not gonna rot here.”
“We cannot abandon the others.”
“You’re first priority, princess. No changing that.”
“What am I to do with you, sir X?” Ambrosia breathed.
“There’s plenty of things you could do with me.” His lips poked into a grin. “There’s no one else here.” He leaned down to kiss her, but Ambrosia placed a gentle hand on his lips, preventing him from drawing any nearer to her face. He took her hand in his, moving it away. “Come on… for old time’s sake. We could reenact how we met.”
Ambrosia couldn’t help but feel lighthearted then, chuckling. “I believe I was on top of you, sir X.”
The man shrugged, flopping down on his back next to her. “Do what you’ve got to do, babe.”
Ambrosia turned on her knees, bending over him so her hair cascaded down to frame her face. X’s grin widened as she drew ever closer, mere inches from his face-
And planted a kiss on his forehead.
“A goodnight kiss for you. Now, off to your own bed.” She smiled coyly, lightly patting his head.
“Wha- come on, really? That is NOT how you kissed me the first time.”
“Off you go, now.” Ambrosia waved her hands, her cheeks rosy as she giggled.
“Man… you’re killing me, woman.” X groaned, getting to his feet to shuffle over to my bed. He flopped onto his stomach, huffing out a sigh. He’d get her yet, he thought to himself as Ambrosia settled in to sleep.
I adjusted my pillow, unfolding my blanket as I prepared for sleep. It was a bit difficult with bandages on my right arm, wrapped around part of my hand to secure it. Ambrosia had said it would take a few treatments to completely heal it.
I heard a floor board creak, quickly looking behind me. I relaxed when my eyes rested on a familiar feathered cloak.
“Good evening, miss Kara. Forgive me… I was hoping to speak to you. If the hour is too late… I can approach you tomorrow instead.”
I paused for a moment. “No… I can talk now.”
“Very well.” Arsenik stepped into the light, allowing me to see him clearer. He was still avoiding my gaze. “Did you… need assistance with anything?”
“No, thank you… I’m… I’m all set here.” I replied.
“Miss Kara, forgive me if this is an unusual request… but I was hoping I could stay here the night, instead.”
“Wait, huh?” I tilted my head.
“I trust my nephew to treat you decently… it would put my mind at ease if he were nearby should any malicious entities attempt to cause you harm.”
“What do you-… oh, no… no, I’m fine out here. I… I really do suck at following your advice, I know.” I suddenly felt a lump in my throat. I sat down, looking away as I smoothed out my blanket to keep my hands occupied. As I did, Arsenik’s eyes wandered to the bandages.
“Miss Kara.” I stopped. His voice had trembled a bit then. “I- I don’t wish to imply that I don’t believe your testimony of today’s events.” I slowly looked up at him. “Y- You see, I… forgive me. My- mind isn’t quite right at the moment.” He took in a deep breath. “I… realize I was quite harsh with you this morning.”
My expression softened. “Arsenik- no, you-… don’t feel bad about that. You were right, I… I messed up. You were trying to help me, and I didn’t listen to anything you said.” I shook my head. “I’m always doing that. Putting myself in a position to be hurt. But the worst part was letting Ambrosia down… and-… and disappointing you.” My own voice began to shake then.
I felt the couch shift as Arsenik took a seat beside me. He took my injured arm into his hands, holding it tenderly. “Miss Kara… when you went out to the grounds, today… ” A pause. I stared at Arsenik for a moment. It was difficult to read his expression; but the crease in his brow, subtle as it was, made him appear distressed. “I don’t know which thought is more devastating; my words compelling you to act in self-loathing… or compelling you to flee into the very arms of peril.”
Arsenik turned his head in surprise when he felt the side of my head lean against his upper arm. He sat tall and straight, his posture unwavering. “You had nothing to do with this.”
“If I had not said what I did… you would have not wandered so far. You would not have-”
“No one is responsible for this.” I cut him off. He finally willed himself to look at me. A few moments of silence dripped away.
“I hope you never doubt my fondness for you.” My brows raised a bit at this. “You know… I’ve admired miss Ambrosia for… quite some time. To think that I… was the cause of something dreadful to befall a dear friend… I am wracked with guilt on both your accounts.”
A trickle of numbness drew my arm away from his hands. “I know Ambrosia. She’s not mad at you.”
Arsenik smiled for the first time in a while. “I appreciate that. It’s no surprise she would associate so closely with you.” I stared down at my hands. “But miss Kara… I truly do offer my apologies for how I spoke to you this morning.”
“It’s okay.” I replied. “It’s water under the bridge.”
“You’re absolutely sure you’ll be alright here for the night?” Arsenik questioned.
“I’ll be fine.” I nodded. “It’s getting late. You should get some rest.”
“I should say the same for you.” Arsenik lightly patted my shoulder before rising. “Sleep well, miss Kara.”
“Goodnight, Arsenik.” I shifted on my seat as I watched him turn, walking back into the shadows. I finally resolved to lie on my side, curling up in a ball under my blanket. I sighed shakily, shutting my eyes as exhaustion took hold of me.
In my fatigue, I failed to notice that behind the couch, just one room over, a pair of glowing eyes emerged from under the dining room table. They moved slowly, a low choking sound accompanying them as they bore into the back of the couch. A hand extended from under the table, the tips of its fingers becoming exposed to the moonlight. Suddenly, a clawed hand reached up from right behind the couch, gripping the back of it as a pair of burning yellow eyes emerged-
To be continued…
Mona Lisa Smile
Al ver esta peli me dan ganas de ser profesora de bellas artes xd
Master List for all my Viking Fanfiction!
Split into lists by character.
POV - Finneas (Finn) Cox
More Info -> here
Ideas… they were hard to come by sometimes, yet when they did start flowing it was practically impossible to stop. It was like a broken faucet that randomly turned on and wouldn’t stop until…
“Fuck,” Finn slammed his laptop and stared at the ceiling. Everything was perfectly fine… then all the sudden everything stopped. His mind went blank and there was nothing left. “I can’t fucking do this…” He muttered to himself. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting himself feel the cushiness of the sofa beneath him.
He just wanted to write; he wanted to write and forget about all of the stupid scenarios that kept popping into his head regarding the next few days. No Finn people aren’t all the sudden going to want to be your friend just because you moved away for a couple years. No Finn that boy you liked two years ago isn’t going to all the sudden start writing you love letters. Honestly he could think of anything else. How ‘bout something productive for one? Maybe that story you’ve been trying to write for the last three years? No just think about shit that’s never going to happen and makes zero sense.
He yawned. When was the last time he’d slept anyway? Definitely not on the train, it was far too noisy and loud not to mention packed full. Who knew everybody and their dad was going back to Britain from Ireland for the school year. And of course the train had to be overnight that way sleep deprivation was guaranteed. Honestly, he thought, they should put that in their advert. 'No need for sleep on this train ride of hell because sleep deprivation guaranteed no matter how much money you throw at us’ He snickered to himself.
He wanted to write still but… Maybe Ideas were just hard to come by when you can’t even remember the last time you closed your eyes; The last time you drifted away into a dream of who knows what. Dreams that make you fear for your life as if they were truly happening to other dreams that… well, make you feel the complete opposite, or maybe not the complete opposite but he wasn’t exactly sure what the complete opposite of fear for your life was… comfort? warmth? confidence even? Nothing made sense anymore everything was just a blur of random thoughts that- well who knew where they came from.
“Oh come on then you know you wanna.”
Finn opened his eyes to a familiar setting. There was a boy with short wavy brown hair sitting next to him on the brick steps of an abandoned building. Aiden… was this a memory? He held out a flash of- was it whiskey? maybe bourbon? He didn’t remember.
“Are ya gonna take it or not? look If you don’t want to that’s alright but it would be a hell of a lot more fun if we were both battered outta our minds.” Aiden repeated in his noticeable Irish accent.
Finn grabbed the flask. “I think it’ll be more fun that way too.” he said and took a swig of the liquor, it tasted faintly of maple and burned his throat as it went down. He wasn’t sure why he did, it just felt like he had too.
George Harrison, Bruce Springsteen, and Mick Jagger at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 1988, my edit of original via billboard.
This one’s pretty big, so click to zoom and see all the drama. Bruce and Mick with matching tambourines, George taking note of Mick’s possessive hand on Bruce’s arm, and Mick taking note of George taking note….there’s surely a story here….but I don’t think that Bruce knows what it is….
Season 3 - Episode 2: Arraignment Day
AirDate: February 24th, 2021, 10:00 PM
sometimes i like to go in front of the mirror and enact some reAlly dramatic romance scene. i cry and everything. it feels great. is that weird?
“We’re living through the blues of our youth. And when the blues of youth that have enveloped our school are hit by white light, so many new colors are revealed.”
+5 for the water
-10 for racist jokes
-10 for assault
+5 for figure-skating
-5 for strobe light
+5 for alligator costume
+10 for titties
-5 for Hannah dying
-15 for advice to “kill yourself”
+10 for pitbull with a pretty red bow