#my mom wants us to place her on a cliff and be eaten by birds of prey when she dies

[insomniac-arrest]

people always say “but cats eat their owners!!” as if it’s a bad thing. Embalming fluid and modern burial ceremonies are just pumping corpses with chemicals, pickled organs, jaws locked shut, eyes forced closed by sharp contacts, and everything else pantomiming empty life.

That sounds unnatural as fuck bro. Let my cat eat my face and the vultures pick at my bones, if I’m going to end then at least let me become something useful. Rot is not some reviled evil thing, but the only thing in life that returns you back to itself.

#cats #death #corpse #death cw #dying cw #my mom wants us to place her on a cliff and be eaten by birds of prey when she dies #I dunno about that but I guess we'll figure it out when it happens

[winterrose527]

The Favor, Part 2: Rome, Italy

(Part 1 can be found here)

Rome, Italy

“I totally could’ve been a gladiator,” Theon determined as they left the Colosseum.

Jon nodded, “I can see it.”

Robb turned to look at him, “You can?”

“Oh yeah,” Jon agreed, readily, “I often have daydreams of Theon being eaten by lions.”

Robb chuckled as Theon and Jon circled one another.

He had no idea how either of them had this much energy. They’d taken well advantage of the Roman nightlife last night, and hadn’t gotten in until the sun was rising. And what a sun it was. It had to be over a hundred degrees out here, sucking all of the energy right out of him. That mixed with tourists.

The fact that he was one didn’t temper his disdain for them.

He didn’t like to complain, but he couldn’t wait to get to the seaside. They had a train to Naples the next day, and from there they’d go to the Amalfi Coast. They’d stay there for a few days, before flying to Ibiza to meet up with some friends. He was then heading to London to start his new job, and the boys were flying home.

This trip was a bit of a farewell tour to their youth. Or, that’s how he felt now but he always got a little dramatic when he was hungover.

They’d graduated in the spring and thanks to all having their next steps lined up for the fall, had one last carefree summer. Theon was heading to law school, Jon to work for Mormont, who he’d been interning with since his freshman year, and Robb was off to London to put his degree in international business to good use.

When he’d made his decision to take the offer, Theon had suggested a bit of a Eurotrip to send him off and Jon had readily agreed. Since he’d only ever been to France, on a trip with his entire family when he was seventeen, he had jumped at the opportunity for a proper send off.

They’d been making the most of their travels, Theon falling in love with a different girl every night, he and Jon certainly having their heads turned from the sights as gorgeous European girls walked by them arm in arm.

“I need to take a piss,” Theon informed them.

“Me too,” Jon said and then clapped Theon in the chest, “Let’s go to that café, I need another espresso or I’m gonna die.” He looked at him, “You want anything?”

Robb rubbed his temples, “Just a water – flat. FLAT FLAT FLAT.”

Italy’s obsession with sparkling water was the only thing he didn’t like about it.

“I believe you mean agua naturaaaale,” Theon informed him.

“Dude, stop trying to speak Italian,” Jon sighed, “You get laughed at every time.”

“Pardon me for trying to break the Ugly American stereotype,” Theon argued.

“You literally are wearing American Flag shorts as we speak,” Robb pointed out.

“You come for my Chubbies you make me question our entire friendship,” Theon all but shouted at him.

Jon held him back and then pushed him across the street, the two of them nearly getting hit by half a dozen cars on their way over. People were honking, tourists were pointing.

So much for overcoming the Ugly American sterotype.

He looked up at the Colosseum. It had been one of the places he was most excited to see, though he knew that was pretty cliché of him. He couldn’t help it, though. He’d always been fascinated by the bloodier bits of history, and sure, yes, maybe seeing Gladiator had been a defining moment in his youth.

It was unbelievably impressive, structurally, obviously, but as he had walked through it he hadn’t been thinking about that. He hadn’t even been thinking about how gruesome it was.

He’d honestly been thinking of how he would have performed.

Most likely he would have gotten eaten by lions as well as Theon but maybe –

“Excuse me?” an American voice interrupted his thoughts.

“The entrance is over there,” he pointed.

“Yeah the um, line of people sort of tipped me off,” she joked and he turned to her.

Her voice was familiar, but that was only a passing thought when he took her in. She was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

A bonafide All-American beauty.

She looked familiar, too. Is she a model? He wondered if he’d seen her in a commercial or in one of Sansa’s magazines. She had the face for it, though admittedly she was a bit short. She hardly even came up to his shoulder.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

She shook her head, “I don’t think so but listen okay so this is going to sound crazy – I actually can’t believe she talked me into it again, but um… can you just – um… please don’t… I can’t even ask…shit.”

He was sort of overcome watching the cutest panic attack he’d ever seen, when all of a sudden she was kissing him.

Oh.

He knew her. Of course he knew her. She had dominated his thoughts for the entire summer in between his junior and senior years of high school. In fact, when he’d shown up for his freshman year of college, he’d have been lying if he hadn’t looked around, hoping to see her at orientation. Though it had been years since he’d thought of her apart from a passing memory.

While he was sorting all of this out, she was kissing him and his arms had wrapped around her without thinking about it.

“Thanks,” she smiled as she pulled away.

“Got it!” a voice said off to the right, “Come on Ella, we’ve got to go!”

“Ella,” he smiled, drinking her in.

“That’s me! Anyway, thanks for your help,” she said, and started to walk away, “You’re a really good kisser. So um, well done.”

He laughed, watching her walk away. A brunette girl going and linking her arm through hers, the pair walking away from the main line of people to a shorter one.

“Wait!” he called, realizing that this was happening again.

He’d made a mistake letting his Mom pull him away last time. He should have gotten her number. Her full name. Her agreement to be his forever.

“Ella-,” he called, but she’d disappeared in the throngs of tourists.

Damn this hangover.

He started moving through them, determined to catch sight of her. She wasn’t in line, but then he heard a laugh that had to be her and he looked through to see her walking into the Colosseum with a smaller group.

There was a guard posted at the entrance she must have gone through.

“Uhh… ciao um… yo necessito, fuck no that’s Spanish,” he sighed, the guard looking at him, “Look I need to get in there really quickly.”

“Private tour,” he shook his head.

“I know, I know I’ve already been in I don’t care about the Colosseum -,” the guard looked at him like he’d just insulted his mother and he shook his head, “No I do it’s great but there… did you see the beautiful girl that walked through here? Blonde? About this high? She is… very very bella,” at this point he was wondering if his butchering of the Italian language could be considered a hate crime but she was now nowhere in sight, “Please can I just go in for one minute.”

“No,” the guard said in a bored tone.

“Look,” he sighed, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Fuck off, man!” the guard shouted at him.

“Alright, alright!” he backed up.

He went around the large line of people and found Theon and Jon looking around for him.

“Where the fuck did you go?” Theon asked as Jon handed him a bottle of water.

“We need to get you guys out of the sun,” Jon said, “It makes me uncomfortable when I’m the one in the best mood.”

“Shut up for a second,” Robb told them, looking around for more exits, “Look, she’s here.”

“Who is?” Theon asked, “That crazy girl from Prague?”

“No! No, her. The girl who kissed me in Paris, do you reme-,” he started.

He was cut off by the groan heard around the world.

Theon shook his head, “I’m not going through this with you again, man.”

Jon was rubbing his temples, his eyes wide but on the ground, “I really thought we were past this.”

“No, shut up, listen to me, she is here. It just happened again,” he told them. “I was just standing here and she came up to me and she’s even hotter than she was then and she just kissed me.”

“Did she know it was you?” Theon asked.

“Um I don’t think so,” Robb answered.

“And where is she now?” Jon asked.

“In there,” Robb pointed to the Colosseum.

“Okay, so let’s review,” Theon said, “This girl has twice now come up to you - a total fucking stranger and asked you to kiss her. Neither time has she in any way tried to prolong your acquaintance. How do you know she isn’t doing this to a different guy in every city she goes to?”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Robb warned.

“Don’t do this,” Jon shook his head, “I am not listening to you moon over her for the rest of this trip. I will chuck you over the cliffs of Ravello.”

“So help me find her,” Robb pleaded. And then without warning shouted, “ELLA!”

“Dude!” Theon warned.

“Seriously security is eyeing us,” Jon noted, looking around.

“Guys - ow stop pulling me!” he ordered as both Jon and Theon had grabbed an arm and were currently dragging him away.

“Wouldn’tve lasted a day in their man,” Theon shook his head.

He looked back, as though she might be peering at him through the ruins even now.

*

The next day as they were on the train to Naples, his heart stopped every time he saw a blonde walking by.

“You’re torturing yourself,” Jon told him.

“I should have waited,” he shook his head.

Jon and Theon shared a look, which to his eyes looked a bit guilty – which they should since they all but carried him away from her – and leaned forward.

“Look, if she’s the one, you’ll see her again,” Jon promised.

“And in the meantime, you’ll meet a good English bird and forget all about her,” Theon suggested.

Robb scoffed.

As though any girl in the entire city of London could hold a candle to Ella.

#fanfiction #modern au #robbcella #fluff #silly silly silly

[actual-cryptid-leshy]

You change, I stay the same

Word count 4.5k

A vent fic that has all the things I’m supposed to be good at. Magical realism, repetition, long winding descriptions that tend to run away from me. Angst. A happy ending? Depends. First fic of 2018, cheers.

Read on AO3

The day Jeremy Heere goes missing is so ordinary it’s almost underwhelming. 

It starts just like any other day. Just one of many. Jeremy waves goodbye to his dad, exits the house, locks the front door. He heads to the bus, or so his dad assumes he does, once he’s out of view. Because that’s what Jeremy always does on school day mornings. It’s routine. And nothing tells his dad that today, of all days, is going to be an exception to this routine. That’s the last his dad sees of him, though he doesn’t know it yet. The morning is quiet. Idyllic, almost, with the gentle rays of sunshine, the few fluffy clouds on an otherwise perfectly blue sky. Bird song from the open kitchen window. A slightly chill morning breeze rustle the curtains on its way in, brining with it the clear crisp scent of the approaching autumn. The leaves haven’t started turning quite yet, only a few having a distinct yellow edge. Summer has dug it’s claws in and is desperately holding on until he very last moment. It is still a little while until the world will be ablaze with the colors of dying embers. Like one last glorious show of life before winter sweeps it all away. Lets it sleep until spring reawakens the world from its slumber. But that comes later. Mr Heere gets up and closes the window. Ties his robe shut against the chill.

Michael doesn’t notice that Jeremy never makes it to school. Not at first. This semesters schedule had irritatingly enough placed them in different classes most of the morning, but the last period before lunch is free for the both of them. They usually meet up in the library to do whatever. Work, nap, play games. It’s a habit. Something that’s been engrained in them since they started it. Once the bell rings, beeline for the library. Settle in. Wait for the other. Michael is usually the first to arrive, since his class is closer, but sometimes he gets held up for various reasons. Not today though. He makes it there in record time. Settles in. Jeremy never shows, even though Michael keeps waiting for him. It’s not the first time Jeremy’s been late. He shoots off a few texts, not really worried yet, but getting there quickly. Jeremy usually doesn’t leave him hanging like this. Not for this long. It happens, sure. But not often enough that Michael can take it in stride. Even if Jeremy was sick he’d tell Michael. He tells Michael everything. Hell, if Jeremy was sick Michael would probably have been receiving texts throughout the whole day, mostly Jeremy begging him to help cause away the boredom. But his phone stays quiet. The last text message he’d received from Jeremy is from last night. Sweet dreams buddy. Written in all caps. His own message is above that one. Sweet dreams dude. Written in all caps. An odd nightly ritual that he doesn’t remember starting, but cherishes all the same. The bell for lunch rings. Michael waits five more minutes, just in case.

“Have any of you heard from Jeremy?” he asks as he settles down at the cafeteria table. There were two empty seats, now there’s one, and the rest of the gang glance at it as they ponder his question. “Not since yesterday, no.” Jake says, taking another bite of his half eaten sandwich. “What’s up?” Brooke asks, putting down the pocket mirror she’s using to try to blind Rich. “I haven’t seen hm all day, and he won’t answer my texts.” Michael explains, pulling his backpack into his lap to dig out his own lunch. “Have you tried calling him?” she asks next, skillfully dodging Richs flailing arms as he tries to disarm her. “He doesn’t really do phone calls, I’ll try after school if he doesn’t answer I guess.” Michael mumbles, putting his bag back down and opening the wrap he’d bought earlier that day. “I’ll text him too, if we blow up his phone maybe he’ll notice!” Christine suggests, smiling brightly at Michael. He leans into her, resting his shoulder against hers. The others make various agreeing noises and take out their phones to text Jeremy. “Thanks Chrissy.” Michael says, gratefully.

The last bell of the day rings out throughout the school building, and kids flood the hallway in their excitement to get the hell out. Michael couldn’t agree more. He’s been on the edge of his seat all day. Jeremy still hasn’t answered. It’s…unusual. Which is why he’s so messed up over it. This doesn’t happen. His life, their lives, are two intertwining lines that follow the same pattern over and over. Day by day. A continuos predictive path that leads them trough life, a road that has looked so similar for so long that this sudden new development has thrown him for a loop. He doesn’t like it. Change is good, sometimes. Change happens for the better, sometimes. This is not one of those times. This has him feeling unsettled. The oh so familiar road, always safe and predictive, is now unrecognizable. Frightening. He can’t see where the road ahead leads, if it leads back to the safe path he knows or if it strays so far away he might never find his way back. Christine bumps her shoulder into his. When he looks up he’s at his locker. “Earth to Michael, come in space cadet.” she says, hand in front of her mouth like a walkie-talkie. She lowers it slightly, regarding him with her gentle eyes. “Everything alright?” she asks, and he finds it in himself ti smile just a little. “Just doing what I do best, worry.” he tells her earnestly. He knows she can see it on him as clear as day anyway. No reason to lie to her. He doesn’t really want to. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he just needed a break?” she suggests. And Michael understands what she means, but a quick spike of annoyance surges trough him. Jeremy needed a break from him? And he couldn’t even be bothered to tell Michael even though he knows Michael is a class A worrywart? He stops himself in his tracks. Abandons that train of thought about as quickly as it had arrived. Jeremy must have his reasons. He always does, even if Michael sometimes don’t understand them fully. “Maybe.” he mumbles, more to himself than Christine, but she gives him another radiant smile anyway. It settles his frayed nerves just a little, and for that he is grateful.

Michaels phone rings later that evening, and he picks it up without even looking. Already convinced he knows who it is. “He-” the greeting isn’t even fully out of his mouth before ehe gets cut off. “Michael, is Jeremy at your place?” Mr Heere asks on the other end. The path goes off a cliff and Michaels stomach follows after it. He goes cold in an instant and the worry in Mr Heeres voice only adds to his own. “No, he’s not at home?” Michael asks back, and he can feel himself forming the words, but someone else actually says them. It doesn’t sound like him. Nothing feels quite right. “I haven’t seen him since he went to school this morning.” Mr Heere says, and Michaels world stops turning. He wants to throw up. “He…Jeremy wasn’t at school today.” he feels himself say, but he doesn’t want to. This isn’t real. Can’t be happening. This happens in movies. This happens to other people. His best friend isn’t missing. He can’t be. He can faintly hear the sound of Mr Heeres labored breathing on the other end. He wants to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. His mind has stopped. His room is quiet, the air seems to stand still around him as he grips his phone. “I-oh god. I need to call the police.” Mr Heere says, distantly. As if he also isn’t the one speaking on the phone. The line goes quiet, and it takes Michael a moment to realize that Mr Heere had hung up on him. He moves the phone from his ear slowly. Turns his head to look at it. Everything is too slow and too fast al at once. Nothing feels real. Then reality hits him like a freight train. He’s up and out of his desk chair in a second, sprinting out the door and down the stairs in two. “Mom!” he shouts, panic in his voice and desperation in his head and fear churning all around inside him so fiercely his legs feel as though they might give out. “Michael?” his mom says from the living room. She’s sat in her chair, reading. He stands frozen in the doorway, the words stuck behind hid teeth. The truth tastes like bile. “Jeremy’s missing.” he whispers, but she hears him.

They drive to the Heere house, reaching it before the police. His mother tries to console a panicked Mr Heere as they wait. She also calls his other mom, to let her know where they are. She comes there straight after work, and the police finally show up about half an hour after her. “Mr Heere, a lot of the time when things like this happen, the kid’s just blowing off steam. He’ll be back before nightfall.” the man assures him, and Michael has never hated someone as intensely and as quickly as he hates him in that moment. “No, Jeremy doesn’t do that. He’s too anxious. He’d get scared fast, and come home practically before I knew he was missing.” Mr Heere explains, pleads, but the cop doesn’t seem to listen. His partner, however, raises a brow. Michael notices. “It’s true. Jeremy’s talked about it before. Like, he was joking, when he said he would probably get scared and come home before anyone realized he was gone if he ever tried to run away from home, but it’s still true. He wouldn’t just leave.” Michael says, looking at the other policeman. “He wouldn’t leave without telling me.” he settles, because this, above all else, is true. Jeremy tells him everything. That’s how they work. “We’ll get a search party going, he might have gotten lost somewhere.” the other one says, and it feels important, like they’ve started down the right road to getting Jeremy home. The search party is gathered and spread throughout town within a couple of hours. They look everywhere a kid might end up getting lost. Along the roads, downtown, in the forest. They check the lake at the park and at gas stations. Come morning they’re exhausted and empty handed. Mr Heere files a missing persons report.

At first, it’s something temporary. Something Michael just has to live with for a little while, but with the assurance it’ll go back to normal soon. How soon is soon anyway? A month passes. Jeremys absence still stings like a newly scabbed over wound. It runs deep and is ever present. Noticeable. He asks his moms if they’ll find him. Nothing’s turned up yet, and no news is good news, right? The two share a look and assure him. Soon, they say. How soon is soon? Three months and Michael watches the empty path beside him, the lack of something is so stark against such a bleak backdrop. Like a splash of color is gone from the grey. This path is lonely, but he has to walk it. He cannot see the road ahead. Some days he bleeds, some days he cries and cries and all he wants is for his best friend to be okay. No news is good news. It means there’s still a possibility. They’ll find him. Soon. Five months and Michael feels dried up, shriveled. Jeremy is a phantom limb at his side, aching for the fact that it isn’t there. His friends can see him walking down his path. Down down down, like a spiral. They do their best to pull him along, but he plants his heels in the dirt and stays. He needs to stay, otherwise how will Jeremy know where they’ve gone? He can’t go too far without him, or he’ll get lost. Jeremy is lost. He’ll be found soon. Eight months. Michael needs to find him. He’s out there, somewhere. No news. He has to be somewhere. How far away can one get in eight months? Should they check elsewhere? How soon is soon, anyways? Eleven months and Michael is lost. He’s turned himself around so badly he can’t find the right way anymore. Which way is forward? Where did everyone else go? Did they move on while he wasn’t looking. The path beside him is grown over, forgotten. How did that happen? When he looks up the path is nothing like he remembers it. He has to find his way, soon. How soon?

It’s a year, to the day, and Michael hasn’t been able to breathe since he woke up. Something tore it’s way trough skin and scar tissue and he can’t seem to stem the flow of hurt that washes over him. The other act as if they’re walking on eggshells around him, but it only worsens his mood. He isn't some fragile kid. “Mr Heere said we could come by today, if we wanted to.” Christine tells him as he joins them for lunch. “Yeah, okay.” he says, and says nothing more. If he says too much he’ll choke on the lack of air. He eats his lunch in silence. The empty chair besides him stays empty. The empty space beside him stays empty. His empty heart. Stays empty. At the end of the day he finds himself outside the Heere house, at the back of the group. He avoids visiting, beaches half his childhood was spent here, but half of his childhood is tinged in blue, red curls and green eyes. Half his childhood is missing. And he won’t find it here, no matter what kind of ghosts haunt the hallways. Mr Heere opens the door in his bathrobe. He lets them in, glances at Michael, then at the others. They head for the living room. “How are you guys?” he asks as he settles into the armchair. He picks up the coffee cup from he small side table. Frowns as he finds it’s gone cold. “Good. We’re…good.” Christine says. Even her talkativeness ebbs away in this house. The conversation keeps going in this direction. Pointless smalltalk. Michael can’t bring himself to pay any attention to it. His gaze wanders, instead. He finds an echo of his life looking back at him, an odd void where there used to be something. There are shadows of photoframes on the walls, more than before. The house has seemingly doubled in size.

“I miss him.” Brooke says. It’s the first direct mention of something that has been deemed unmentionable and it strikes Michael like an arrow to the heart. The haze is replaced with hyper focus and it’s all too much. “Yeah, me too.” Jake agrees, breaking the fragile peace even further. Something builds in Michaels chest. “It seems like forever ago and yesterday at the same time.” Rich says, and Michael can’t keep quiet. “He’s not dead!” he yells, and it feels like he’s shattering himself but it doesn’t matter. He needs to make sure they know. “Michael-” Christine starts but he can’t let her finish. It might just kill him. “No! You’re all sitting around acting as if he’s buried in the ground but he’s not! He’s out there,” Michael says, argues, he1s not sure who he’s arguing with but he can’t stop now. “He’s out there and we need to find him.” he says, sounding like an echo of himself, months and months ago. “Michael, don’t do this.” Jenna warns, her eyes are on Mr Heere but Michael doesn’t notice. Doesn’t care. “No! We-we need to-” he tries again, “He’s dead, Michael.” Mr Heere snaps, voice breaking but firm. That shuts him up. Every word he might have had building in his chest fizzle out into nothing. Steals his breath away. Makes his heart stop. He freezes over, cold dread washing over him in waves. Pulling him under. He can’t catch his breath and the water is overflowing. Running down his cheeks. Silently. Still surface, troubled waters. He can’t take it anymore. He leaves. Says nothing, only turns around and heads for the door. Still so silent. He watches himself go but can’t feel it happening. “Michael.” Mr Heere calls, sounding small and lost, but it makes no difference. Mr Heere opens his mouth as if to say something more but Michael closes the front door. Outside The Sun still shines on brightly. The world is lush and green still, even as the threat of autumn hangs in the air. The cold morning has given way to a warm afternoon. Almost as if it’s summer again. Michael watches the few clouds, stretched thin across the sky. He walks off the porch and to his car, opens the door. “Michael.” someone says. He turns around half way to see who. Christine is standing on the porch, open door behind her. She looks sad. He gets in the car and backs out of the driveway.

For the first five minutes he does nothing but drive. Taking random turns and just looking for a way out from the oppressing buildings. He wants open space. Somewhere to breathe. The silence in the car is muffled, and his own head is empty save for his view of Mr Heere repeating those words. The dam breaks and the anger floods back in, filling him to the breaking point. He grips the steering wheel, the faux leather creaking under his paling knuckles. He grits his teeth, tries to keep at bay ever sound tearing him up from the inside. He’s made it onto a small side road, leading trough a forested area. There aren’t any other cars within view and the isolation feels freeing. He screams. Loud and ragged and long. Until his throat is raw. Agonizing. He pulls over, breathing heavily. The car is suddenly far too small. Michale slams the car door shut. Hard. The sound is deafening in the otherwise tranquil quiet of the roadside. He feels wound up, restless. Like an impending explosion with no outlet. He walks to the other side of the car, to get away from the road. He paces back and forth along his car, a few steps each way, not really knowing what he’s supposed to do with himself. He wants, he needs, to do something. He pulls at his hoodie, pulls at his hair, chews his lip and kicks the soft earth at the top of the ditch separating the road and the forest. Then the fight leaves him, as if all the pressure suddenly erupted. But no explosion has rocked his world, so he lets out a deep sigh and slumps against the side of his car in defeat. He hangs his head, pushes his glasses back up his nose so that they don’t slip off his face. The stinging is back behind his eyes, threatening to spill over into sobs. The anger is gone. All that’s left is sadness. Loneliness. He feels lost. Like Jeremy must. As soon as he thinks the name, a twig snaps within the forest in front of him. He whips his head up at the sound. His eyes catch movement before the forest stills again. The momentary life ebbing always as it regains the air of stillness the warm autumn air instills. Maybe it’s the pent up energy in him. Maybe it’s because of what his mind is full of. Maybe he’s just plain desperate. He moves forward without really thinking about it. He skids down the side of the shallow ditch, climbs up the other side in three long strides. And then he runs. Chasing something he can’t see or hear. But he knows it’s there.

He stumbles over a root, his foot sinking trough the soft moss, knee bending to catch himself. He can feel his pant leg getting wet, and as he looks down to inspect the situation, someone approaches. “Michael.” says that someone, in a far too familiar voice. One he hasn’t heard in far too long. He looks up. “Jeremy?” He whispers. Disbelief on his face. Because yes, that is Jeremy. Standing in front of him, hand outstretched to help pull him from the moss. His eyes are large and brilliant green. Michael can’t look away. He looks as if he never left. Like he leapt out of Michaels memories, not a single scratch. Pristine clothes. His hair is even the same length. He smells like a graveyard, newly turned wet soil and burning candles. “Hi.” Jeremy says, a smile stretching across his face. As if he’s so overjoyed seeing Michael again. Michael can’t help but match it with one of his own. “Hey!” He practically shouts, glee in his voice. Leg forgotten. Jeremy chuckles at him, eyes crinkling and the sun illuminating his red hair. The reality of the situation slams into Michael like a lightning strike. “Where have you been?” He demands, still not reaching for the offered hand. Still one foot stuck in the moss, leaning on his knee. He can feel the cold sleeping trough the fabric. “What do you mean?” Jeremy asks, innocent. Michael feels the rage building back up. “You’ve been gone for a year! Where were you! We were so worried.” he tells Jeremy. He wants to shout the words but the stillness of the forest around him hals him, his voice coming softer than he intends to. “I’ve been looking for you.” he adds on, a desperate tone to his voice. Jeremy cocks his head to the side, smile gone, but eyes still bright with so much life Michael could cry. “I’ve been right here.” he says. Michael could scream if there weren’t so many different words stuck in his throat. If the silence of the forest wasn’t so deafening, so all encompassing. “Here?” he manages to choke out anyway. Jeremy giggles a little. “That’s what I said.” he says, nodding a little. His hand is still outstretched. “What does that-? No, you know what, whatever. Just…Jeremy, let’s go home.” he says, softly. Begging. He’s even on his knee. He could laugh if he wasn’t so focused on the boy in front of him. Jeremys smile falls away completely for the first time, a small frown gracing his features. His eyes dim just a little. Michael takes his hand. “Please.” he begs. He gazes into those bright green eyes. Not knowing what he’s looking for. Deep down already knowing he won’t find it anyway. “It’s so quiet here. So peaceful.” Jeremy says, sounding far away. His hand in Michaels is warm, and dry. Soft smooth skin, and just underneath Michael can feel the faintest heartbeat. He feels his own beat in time with that rhythm, gets lost in it, until Jeremy says, “Stay.” Michael stares at him. It’s a simple word, implying a simple request. “W-what?” Michael manages to stutter out, caught off guard as he is. Jeremy is smiling again, beaming really. Michael has missed this, he has, but something holds him back. “You should stay here, with me.” Jeremy explains, even though it was clear what he meant from the start. Th request is still an odd one. “I-” Michael begins, then stops, lost for words. How can he answer to such a request? It sounds so simple but it’s so complicated and nothing makes sense anymore. The forest is so still, the trees seem to go on forever, Michael can’t make out the canopy above, but the light breaking trough the leaves in fragments is warm, like summer. The air is sweet with the scent of wildflowers. “Everything just, stops. It’s quiet here, and calm You just, stop, for a while. And everything is good. And you don’t have to worry.” Jeremy says, persuades, tempts him. It sounds like heaven, in some odd way. It sounds like what Jeremy had wanted. Was it god enough to leave behind everything for. “Jere.” Michael says, because he has nothing else left to say. Just a name, just his name, the beginning and the end of everything he knows in this moment. “Stay with me.” Jeremy repeats, placing his other hand on top of Michaels, effectively cradling his hand. He feels the beat more prominently now. Steady. Calm. Michael stares at their hands, then he looks back up into Jeremys eyes. The sunshine spins golden threads trough his hair, and Michael has never seen anything as beautiful as him. “Alright.” Michael whispers. Jeremys smile softens, and he sinks to his knees in front of Michael, into that soft damp moss. The scent of earth grows stronger. Jeremy takes Michaels other hand too, laces their fingers together. Michael can’t take his eyes away from him. The dampness creeps further up his pant leg. Jeremy leans in, as if he’s about to whisper a secret into Michaels ear. “I’m so glad you found me.” he admits, indeed sounding pleased. It makes Michael smile. “I never gave up.” he promises, Jeremy nods. The scent of earth overpowers the scent of smoke, the moss creeps ever upward. “I believe you.” Jeremy promises back. Then he raises his right hand, bringing Michaels left hand up with it. He untangles their fingers one by one until only their little fingers are hooked together. “I’ll never get lost again.” he swears. “I’ll find you anyway.” Michael swear back. Jeremy smiles, then giggles. Michael can’t stifle a giggle of his own. He feels tired, exhausted really. His legs have gone numb, but they’re warm. He blinks once, slowly. Struggling to open his eyes again once they’ve closed. He leans his elbows on the moss, gently. “Are you tired?” Jeremy asks him. Michael only nods, feeling the warmth envelope his shoulders. “Don’t worry, you can sleep soon.” Jeremy consoles. He leans forward, places a gentle kiss on Michaels forehead. Black is creeping into Michaels vision. He’s so warm, so comfortable. He leans his cheek on the moss. It smells fresh. He yawns, breathing in long and deep, and then the dark and the warmth surrounds him. He can feel Jeremy right in front of him in the darkness. Their knees knock against each other. Jeremy pulls at their joined hands until Michael is laying down, and then Jeremy lays down too. He scoots closer, closer, until Michael can wrap his arms around him. Pull him close. “Sleep?” Michael asks, trough the comfortable haze. “Now we sleep.” Jeremy reassures him, nuzzling his face into Michael chest. Clinging onto the fabric of his hoodie. “And when we wake up?” Michael asks, voice quiet, but still it echoes slightly. “We do whatever we want.” Jeremy tells him, and Michael nods, burying his nose in those red curls. He falls asleep.

#my fics #bmc fic #jeremy heere #michael mell #boyf riends

[neohorse-blog]

If I had wings

“rain, rain, rain”’

Adventure, all it takes for a small person to win a big fight. I never won a pretty life, but I always win a happy, chatty and an energetic family and also lovable friend’s that I can talk to from day to day about my problems, break ups and girly secrets.

“I’m going out”’

I was always a loved child in the friend’s group, but some feel like I’m being treated differently from the rest of people in the friendship ‘gang’. They try to protect me if there is any bulling in; around my life, social life or even just being out going alone.

Smell of fall is the first thing I sense when opening the front door. Orange, red and brown colored leafs falling down the oak tree near the barn. Dogs barking in the neighborhood, cats calling for milk, birds flying to warm countries, others staying and summer animals hibernating, getting ready for summer I guess.

“While the power of friendship is a year round affair, there is something about fall that fills me with the overwhelming urge, no matter what I am doing, to grab my friends and family and hold onto them extra tightly. Fall makes me want to run, jump and experience as much as I can with those I care about. It’s so easy to get tied down with the mundane in life. The day-to-day tasks we convince ourselves to be so important. The ones that take us away from living and being in the moment, and fostering meaningful, and irreplaceable relationships with our friends and family. Let’s face it, without the power of friendship, there would still be fall, be there would be far too few feelings.”

Forest, deep down in the misty medium lit forest. Barely can see anything apart when walking deeper and deep I experience some unfriendly chills running down my Spain. Not a long far from the distance, about 2 miles ahead I’ve been told there is a shed. A small shed with tools for chopping the trees down I think. I think I might be told a lie because the forest near my house been taken a good care of my great granny then my gran and family generation. From what I know nobody committed suicide, been buried alive or eaten by some wild animal. I just enjoy these autumn walk through the forest. It brings me back the childhood memories off when mom was still alive. She was a very loveable person. We spend so much time together, every second counted of our mother – daughter love. She always told me

“No matter what happens I’ll always be right by your side and guide to your success”

While walking through the dark forest I was thinking about what my mommy would always tell me before I fell asleep so I know I’m always safe with her. I am a brave little girl but……

“You are safe with me. You are never going to be alone in your life. You’re always loved”

“Who’s here?” I said in a calm voice

I heard littles boys voice. It sound like he wanted to say something, but more in a singing voice. I couldn’t really tell because he’s voice was really soft and high. I kept moving forward. At first sight, I wanted to go back I thought there would be no harm if I explore.

“Turn around, turn around, turn around” Whispering into my left ear

I got really bad creeps now. I couldn’t do this anymore, I’m even scared to turn around. So my last option was just to run fort my life.

It starts off with an aerial view of the big city lit up at night; think Vegas. The view pans around for a second before it switches to 3rd person view where I can see myself and I’m sitting at the bar table, drinking and looking around. The mood surrounding me is festive, everyone is laughing and slapping each other on the backs telling jokes and sharing drinks.

Next think I know everyone’s faces in the large room turn and stare directly at me, dropping whatever it is they’re doing (or drinking) as I hearsee peoples glasses fall to the ground and shatter. They gasp and everyone’s face has a look of terrified horror on their face as if they just saw the devil himself./

This is where it got weird.

Everyone went into “fast-forward mode” through the front door of the bar like it was Black Friday at Wal-Mart…except 20x faster.

The camera then pans back to the aerial view of the city and the lights everywhere start flickering out till the whole city is swallowed by the night.

This time it switches to 1st person view, and I feel as if I’m in the body of my future self. I begin taking unsure steps forward, since everything is pitch black around me; crushing broken glass with every other step. I stop when I feel a hot raspy breath breathing down the back of my neck.

I turn around and see two blood red eyes like those of a devil staring into me. It’s eyes then smiled at me and it gave me a raspy sigh..

I woke up the next day in some strange mysterious room. It was dark, but a bright light shined up from the other side. I wondered if it could be an angel coming and taking me from this cruel word and into my mother’s hands.

“Gentle like a puppy, soft like a feather and small like an ant”

The light was coming closer. So, close as if I can touch it from a faraway distance. What could that be possibly.

My glory was sharp, but my strength was strong. This is the day I will find the real truth if dad is still out there. My hope is low, but my journey is big. I pack my stuff in to my bag pack and sneak out at night through my bedroom window so my gran doesn’t see or hear me. I know I shouldn’t do it because she will be sick and worried about me, but there will explanation for me if I don’t find it out for myself.

Alarm beeped to 3 o'clock meaning time to leave and also the devils hour. I took the doves and made a long rope of it looking like Rapunzel’s golden hair. Climbing down the golden hair and away for my big adventure I guess.

Flashlight on……..

The road was dark like my soul, road mysteriously bald and my skin pail of the cold fear. I wouldn’t be expecting something bad happening whilst walking on the side walk as its finishing and there is no other path way. I kept walking till I reached the end and a car from nowhere pulls over. I can’t tell exactly what kind it was, what color or who it was in it because I didn’t turn around to look. I just didn’t want to get in a mess or something bad happening like getting kidnaped.

A person from the car knocks on the window of the car twice. I was tempted to look, but I managed to hold myself and kept walking forward just after the side walked  reached its end. I stepped on the road that looked like nothing and which goes to nothing, but the driver didn’t give up. He just kept falling me like some kind of creep that wants to rape a young girl. After walking good 20 odd minutes he pulled over shouted “HEY, GET BACK HERE”

I ran as fast as I could, until I run out of breath. I managed to hide in some bushes I found on the edge of a cliff. It was a dangerous place to hind in, but it was the only thing that was around near me. Of course I could of climbed up and hidden in a tree, but nah. Let’s not try and break something when you’re in such a terrible situation like me. I was shivering cold of this impatiens. I didn’t know where he was, who he was or what he wanted from me. I came out of me 'hide out’ and checked if it’s a safe zone. I saw no danger, it was safe to go. After 10 mins he got me. I was useless, then and now. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t, all I wanted right now is to be safe and sound in my bed, thinking that all of it was a bad dream. It was hard to thinking about anything right now as I’m being  dragged by an older man

The old man opened back door of his car and told me to get in. I didn’t want to listen to his instructions, but I didn’t want no trouble so I just listened what he told me and juts got in. I had no clue where he was going or where the hell he was talking me, but for sure I knew I can’t be one-hundred present sure that I was safe.

The old man asked “Are you enjoying yourself?”

I replied speechlessly “Yes I am”

“Hahahaha, I don’t want you ending up bored by the time we get home” He said with a smile on his face

We ended up in a mansion I suppose. I felt more like I was in a palace because this place has gotten a lot of beautiful flowers like red roses, daisy’s,  dandelions…… and also a cherry  blossom tree where I know this is not a miracle, but I thought hummingbirds where flying around like mad. I don’t know how they got here, but it was a magnificent thing to experience.

“Do you like it already?”

I jumped with an exigent “I love it here”

“I’m glad you like it already” The old man we a grin on his face. I thought he’s got a trap planed or something, but right now I just wanted to explore what I’m seeing and memorize this amazing place

The old man showed me around the house the only doubts I was having was that nobody else was around in the house apart from him. At least some house cleaners. Nope, it was just him. All alone living in this huge mansion from my perspective. He looked at least happy living on his own. Never seemed as he was unhappy. The old man yelled at me as if I was death or something.

“YOUNG LADY. COME HERE RIGHT NOW.!!! Did I tell you that you can walk off”

I just stood there, faced toward him and said nothing

“Answer me or are you death?”

“yes sir” I answered in a calm voice

“yes sir what??”

“yes, I have been a bad girl and I shouldn’t off walked away” I answered as if I was about to cry

“now you know what’s waiting for you”

I screamed for help, but this how or the place I was in. it was miles away from anyone to hear me. just hoping and fingers crossed that someone would come. Whilst I waited. I was imagining what would happen if all of this was over. What if life is much better in heaven rather in this cruel world. What if………

Being undressed in the middle of the night by a strange man. Un zipping his trousers and pulling into the bed like to love birds. Making it sound like we are having fun. Not having under aged sex. Just having the time off your life.

This was nothing, but a sexual molested abuse for me. my life was hard till this day on. I tell my kids this story because they wanted to hear about my childhood experience and what I went through. So now I’m spreading this love to all my wonderful readers and tell them thing before you do something bad as well and know in whateve situation your in everyone is always on the lookout for you

#story #2000 words #Wattpad #strong language #sad #emotions #good #interesting

[diabeticmemoirs]

SORRY KARL MARX: 4 ANIMALS THAT YOU THOUGHT WERE ALTRUISTIC BUT AREN’T

Altruism, we all think that we know what it means. You know, doing something good for someone else without some kind of a reward. Maybe donate to charity, or volunteer your time at a local shelter of some kind — human, animal, hexapod invertebrate (seriously, they call them bug hotels). That’s not exactly the case though. In fact, the real definition of altruism is a tad more specific than that.

First we have to talk fitness, and no I’m not talking about the ten minutes of yoga you did before collapsing on top of the body-shaped puddle of sweat still absorbing into the mat you purchased at the dollar store. In biology, fitness refers to how many babies a person can make, who can also get down and make a few of their own (thanks conservation science 201). And, using that definition, altruism is actually any behavior that an individual performs in order to increase the fitness of another, while causing a decrease in fitness to itself.

Now, Karl Marx was many things; philosopher, journalist, historian, political theorist, revolutionary socialist. But, one of his core ideas was this — human nature is essentially a state of it’s circumstances (Everything is your parents fault). Immanuel Kant and Thomas Hobbes argued that people were, at their core, selfish. Marx, on the other hand, said that outside of the social constraints of upper and lower class, people would prove to be self-less and help one another out — they would care about our species as a whole. Just like all of those examples of altruistic behavior in our cute and cuddly animal counterparts. I mean come on! We’ve all seen the viral videos of dogs adopting orphaned kittens. Obviously we should try to be more understanding and accepting. We should walk and talk just like the animals right?....Right? Well, no, not if we’re talking altruism.

Lemmings

No, I’m not talking about the green-haired, dimwitted, cartoon creatures who walk to their deaths in blue dresses that were made famous by DMA Design in 1991. I’m referring to the IRL version that also jump from cliffs and drown themselves in an attempt to control their own population size. That’s right folks! Altruistic mass suicide. It was actually a theory not too long ago. Disney even “documented” it in their 1958 film White Wilderness. Documented of course means that they took some lemmings, pushed them off of a cliff, and filmed it (Mickey Mouse for President 2020).

Reality is — that theory was sane when compared to earlier ones. During the 1530’s a geographer, by the name of Zeigler, suggested that lemmings spontaneously fell from the sky during stormy weather, and simply died off in the spring. What Zeigler hadn’t noticed was the population migrating up to the mountains in the spring to get their baby-making on...like really on. Lemmings reproduce so fast that they have their own unique population growth model.

Almost every species follows one of two predictive growth patterns, outside of extenuating circumstances of course. They either grow exponentially until they reach a carrying capacity, balancing out the population with the available resources; or they grow exponentially, far beyond the available resources, and eventually crash towards potential extinction (have you figured out which kind we are yet?....just saying). Lemmings, on the other hand, fluctuate up and down chaotically, not around a carrying capacity, for about four years before crashing to near extinction. Then they get up, brush themselves off, and start all over again.

They’re rodents, and like every other rodent, they mass produce children and then scatter away to new places when the population gets too big. But, unlike every other rodent, that has inconspicuous, neutral coloring and tends to flee and hide at the sight of a predator, a lemmings predatory defense behavior is simple; they ain’t gonna take no shit from no punk ass carnivore, and their colors say so (thug life). It’s almost like the flight portion of their fight or flight response was lebotomized from that portion of the brain (the amygdala...not that they asked Mr. Know-it-All), but that’s beside the point. Lemmings are mean, aggressive, far from altruistic little adrenaline junkies that migrate at full speed down mountain cliffs and across raging rivers, they’re just not all gonna make it. That’s the life. They like to ride. Fixed gear. No brakes. Can’t stop. Don’t want to, either (or was that Joseph Gordon-Levitt?).

Wolves

The great and noble wolf pack, consisting of the alpha, the beta, and the bottom of the proverbial barrel — the omega wolf. A perfect hierarchy of dominance behavior, where the toughest make it to the top. At least, that’s according to L. David Mech, one of the most prominent wolf experts in the U.S (and every episode of MTV’s adaptation of Teen Wolf). So who the hell are we to question it?

Let’s just assume that’s how it works for a moment, and one renegade wolf fights his way to power, dominating every other member of the pack with his or her underdog willpower and earning the top spot in more ways than one (where my bitches at?). Well it seems that, in the wild, that renegade top-dog has a soft spot for the young and injured.

Everyone gets a share at meal time. Even the ones who are too sick or injured to go on the hunt get an equal piece, and Mr. Alpha makes sure of that. Hooray altruism!!! Sharing resources definitely counts. Except it doesn’t. Not in this case. Because guess what, putting a bunch of strange wolves into a small, enclosed space isn’t the best way to understand what’s happening in the wild. Who knew?!

The truth is that Mr. Alpha is actually just a wolf that found Mrs. Alpha and decided to make their own little pack, the old fashioned way...sex, I’m talking about sexual intercourse. Wolf packs are just families; Mom, Dad, and all of their little kiddy wolves (Sibling rivalry gets a whole new meaning when you add claws and teeth). Once those pups grow up, they form small family units of their own and often build on the first pack. It’s like a family-reunion-camping-trip, just every second...of every single day...in the middle of untamed wilderness.

It’s called kin selection. Even grandchildren and cousins have twenty-five percent of the SAME GENES as we do. That’s right, you’re twenty-five percent identical to your first cousin. And, biology says that you should get as much of...well you...out there as you can. So, murdering said cousin for breaking your Xbox goes against your natural fitness. Sorry guys.

Apes

You know...us...and our closest living relatives. Those cute little chimpanzees and gorillas with their sign language skills. The ones that get far less cute when you add Mark Walhberg, James Franco, or a forty-five year old Charlton Heston to the mix.

They are like us in a lot of ways. Psychologist Robin Ian Macdonald Dunbar, with his enormous list of credentials and top seat at Oxford’s Department of Experimental Psychology (that’s the legit kind, not the wishy-washy one) writes an entire book on the similar social effects of grooming in apes and the affinity that humans seem to have for gossip. I mean, I don’t want to say anything about women who sit at a salon and exchange information while getting their overpriced nails done, or how they might compare to a troop of gorillas grooming each other...so I won’t...

Gossip, exchanging information, or picking and eating termites off of each others hairy backs, it isn’t kin selection or some mentally unstable rodent migration in this case. It isn’t altruistic either. It’s called reciprocity, “tit for tat,” you eat the bug off my back and I’ll eat the bug off yours. And, don’t take it lightly.

Reciprocity is the basis of human society. We barder, we trade, it happens at every level of civilization. There’s even a thing called reciprocal “concession” where a requester lowers their initial request, in order to make the other person feel obligated to concede to the second request (go ahead, look it up). It’s reverse psychology in board meeting. We haven’t gotten more “self-less” with our intelligence, we’ve just become more manipulative.

Birds

About ten percent of all bird species, in one way or another, express “cooperative breeding” — boom, statistic. So, what does that mean? Babysitting. You take care of someone else’s genetic Will and Testament, which wastes your time and energy and decreases your fitness. Done...altruism. And no, it isn’t always a relative.

So why doesn’t it qualify? Because these are the benefits…

A reduced chance of predation, increased foraging time, territory inheritance, higher survival rate of breeding females, and get this...the “helpers” simply become better parents when they do breed. And in the wild that’s important...because in the wild, children actually do get eaten by monsters.

These guys have weighed the costs and benefits of every tiny little behavior they do, and we have absolutely no clue what’s happening. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this — as a moderately liberal hippy myself, I’d love to think that all of our furry friends are looking out for one another — but the truth is, altruism doesn’t exist. Not in the natural world at least. We need to define our terms more accurately and stop getting caught up in this black and white, good versus evil trope. The world is vastly more complicated and that’s okay.

The only example I can come up with would be if a woman (let’s call her Sally) donates her egg to Amy, the scientists involved remove Sally’s DNA from it and put in Amy’s DNA, and then they proceed to fertilize it. Because it all comes down to the passing on of genetic material (the gooey stuff). Which may be possible soon, who knows. They just fertilized one female mouse with DNA from another (because men weren’t already useless enough).