#personally: my school intentionally kept us in the dark and didn’t dismiss us so i didn’t find out until i got home

[marisatomay]

online buddy of mine (born in 2004) said “i strongly suspect the vast majority of ‘I'll always remember where I was on 9/11’ stories are not true. I simply don't believe that 75% of people were watching the news live at 8:45 in the morning on a Tuesday when the strangest thing happened.” and like. okay. we can talk about the aftermath in the 22 years since 9/11 and the horrific and evil jingoism that ruined countless lives in decades-long wars all we want. but i cannot overstate enough that 1) we still very much had a monoculture in 2001. most americans would watch either the today show or GMA. 2) as soon as that first plane hit every news station in the country was covering it. schools and businesses and break rooms turned on every tv. every radio. anything that had the ability to broadcast the news. (smartphones weren’t a thing. cell phones and the internet existed but they were new and fragile. unreliable. your best bet was still to sit there and watch. or listen.) and we all sat there and watched the second plane hit and the pentagon hit and the towers collapse and flight 93. so, yes: basically everyone who was alive and old enough to form lasting memories in 2001 remembers that day and the coverage. even people who weren’t near a tv or radio in real time remember where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news. they probably even remember the reason why they didn’t hear about it in real time. i was 5 years old in my first week of first grade and i remember it. it was like. the biggest thing to happen in this country since fucking. pearl harbor. bigger. there’s no need to downplay that.

#personally: my school intentionally kept us in the dark and didn’t dismiss us so i didn’t find out until i got home #but we all knew something was up because it was a glorious september tuesday and they cancelled recess to keep us inside #and all of the teachers looked shaken and some kids were picked up by their parents. #i still remember the look on the face of the mom of one of my classmates. we would later find out that her dad (my friend’s grandpa) died. #but they didn’t tell us what was going on and i think they made the right choice. #didn’t want to traumatize thousands children more than necessary. i think they were right. #i still remember exactly where i was and how my parents told us though #and i remember all of the coverage after. all of it.

[bluejohsai]

whiskers — kuroo tetsurou (au).

it’s been a while and i managed to push through with posting a short scenario for this blog. i know i haven’t been active in this blog at all and it will stay that way if there are no requests flying here. i am currently accepting requests for haikyuu and attack on titan (bc i indulged in it for quite a while now). with that aside, happy reading !!

summary : kuroo finds himself in a strange predicament and inevitably bumps into his crush. inspired by ‘a whisker away’.

Kuroo Tetsurou had enough of his life.

Everything was just in shambles the moment his mother screamed at his father, demanding a divorce. And with divorce comes the argument of which parent will take the responsibility of caring for the child. In the end, Kuroo's mother won, making him pack his bags and leave his father behind to live in his mother's house in Tokyo, along with the man that his mother chose to remarry. Living under his mother's care was perfectly fine; she wasn't in the house often because of her work and his mother's new husband tends to be fussing over him any chance he gets, but Kuroo chose to brush all of them with a practiced smile.

In the summer of Kuroo's second year in high school, the dark-haired boy received a message from his father. He was lounging in his makeshift study area in the bottom part of his bunk bed, reading a book that Kenma really enjoyed (it was filled with games though, probably the reason why the first-year liked it so much), when his phone vibrated on top of the coffee table he pushed at the front of his study area. Not having any enthusiasm at the prospect of talking to people, Kuroo sluggishly sat up and opened his phone, displaying his lock screen of the sky and the message from his father. With bored eyes from behind his long fringe, Kuroo tried reading the message without any attachment since it was only once upon a time that he was close with his father.

Father:

Hey, Tetsurou, I'm here right now in Tokyo. The summer festival is still ongoing so why don't we attend the highlights, I have something to talk to you about.

Narrowing his eyes at the glare of his gadget, Kuroo stared pensively at the screen of his phone. Festivals meant reliving those joyous moments he had with his father when he was young; catching goldfishes, buying masks and scaring his mother with the designs of their face accessories, and watching the highlights of the festival, which is the fireworks display. It also meant reliving that time when his father left him intentionally during a crowded summer festival. That event in his life spurred the divorce because as his mother told him, his father is one deadbeat and selfish kind of man. But his father wasn't like that. Kuroo remembered pleading to his mother to forgive the older man but it was all in vain. She still screamed in their dining room to nullify their marriage.

Tetsurou:

OK.

That was it. No residue of the playful nature he always had with his father, as it should be all those years.

Having a few minutes of silence and staring at the bottom of his bunk bed, Kuroo took a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. Slowly sitting up, the dark-haired boy crawled out of his cozy hideout and stretched his limbs, because lying down and rolling on the carpeted floor definitely made him stiff. Walking towards his closet while taking off his shirt, Kuroo reached out for the red sleeveless hoodie hanging from behind his volleyball club tracksuit, quickly fitting it on him and choosing to leave his basketball shorts on. With his phone and wallet in hand, the tall lad walked down the stairs and opened the door to the living room and dining area.

Peeking his head inside a small crack of the door, Kuroo lazily scanned the area. "Ah, Hikaru-san," he called out, catching the attention of a tall man with soft brown hair and glasses from behind the counter of their kitchen. He was apparently preparing for dinner, which looked like fried chicken. "I'm going out for a bit. Tell Mom that I could be going home late tonight."

The man named Hikaru gently smiled at Kuroo as he washed his hands. "I heard tonight's the summer festival's highlights," he noted, wiping his hand on one of the clean towels by the refrigerator. "Are you going with your friend, Kenma, is it? Or your classmates, Yaku and Kai."

Kuroo shook his head. "Dad invited me."

He swore he could hear a pin drop from the awkward silence ensuing inside the room. This silence is one that he greatly distastes, and this is coming from a child who succumbed to a bout of silence once he moved to Tokyo. There was no question of how Hikaru wanted to be acknowledged as Kuroo's new father and the competition on who deserves to be a better father to Kuroo is brewing between the two males that became a part of his mother's life. Kuroo could see that Hikaru was doing his best but the messy-haired boy never really viewed him as a family even after years of being married to his mom, his dismissive behavior when it comes to Hikaru is masked with cheery remarks and loud rounds of laughter. And that's what he chose to do right now.

The tall lad laughed once again, trying to ease any tension in the air. "I'm thinking of bringing home a box of takoyaki. Do you want anything, Hikaru-san?"

Hikaru composed himself and sheepishly looked down to continue with his current task. "You don't have to buy me anything, Tetsurou." The brown-haired man glanced at Kuroo with a fatherly air. "Are you joining us for dinner later?"

Kuroo paused for a few moments, pretending to think upon the offer before shaking his head an easygoing smile. "Nope," he lightheartedly answered Hikaru. "I'll be off now!"

When Kuroo's footsteps echoed through the empty household, followed by the sound of the front door closing, Hikaru deeply sighed as he planted both hands on the counter. His dejected frame was noticed by his pet cat, Hanako, who mewled in concern as she approached her owner. Realizing his eyes pooling with unshed tears, Hikaru quickly took his glasses from the bridge of his nose and wiped his eyes with his wrist, his forced laughter coming out huskily.

"I'm trying my best, Hanako, but why isn't it enough?"

                                                             *

Summer festivals in Tokyo always bring forth a chorus of laughter and the comfortable mellow lantern lights. There was a subtle beat of the taiko drums in the background, drowned out by the endless chatters of the people choosing to roam around during the highlights of the festivals. The streets of the enormous plaza in their area were arranged to have a line of stalls awaiting for customers, and one of them held a special place in Kuroo's childlike heart ー goldfish scooping. Here he was, crouched down in front of the small tub designated for the goldfishes, his hand poised right above him while his eyes never strayed from that fish who appeared to be brighter than anyone else in the shallow water. Right when he was about to catch the fish, his little net tilted and doubled over the water, scaring away the fishes from any human contact.

"Better luck next time, boy," the stall owner told him reassuringly but the messy-haired boy wasn't reassured at all.

Kuroo stood up brashly from his seated position, surprising the people around the little stall, and walked away with his hands inside the pockets of his sleeveless jacket. There was a hasty apology coming from behind him, along with hurried footsteps of the very person he doesn't want to interact with at the moment. Kuroo continued walking, mumbling apologies to the people he bumped on the way, until a firm grip wrapped around his arm, making him roll his eyes in annoyance.

"What?" he asked the person desperately trying to catch his attention, the expression on the younger boy was hiding the fact that he was hurting because of this meeting.

"Tetsurou," Kuroo Tatsunari, his father stood in front of him, face so distraught that he nearly broke his practiced façade. "You can live with me instead of your mother, that way everyone will be happy. Please, Tetsurou, I already asked my landlord to have my apartment renovated to have your room."

Kuroo was baffled for a moment and he couldn't help but scoff in disbelief at what his father said. After shaking his head, his golden eyes trailed from the face he was starting to see in the mirror (except for the unruly hair he seemed to claim since he was young) to the hand still gripping tightly on his arm, as if asking for him to never leave the owner's side. He had enough of all of this and all he wanted was to cry his heart out and scream all his hidden thoughts to a barren meadow, but all he could do was place his hand on his father's, gently taking away the grip that kept him rooted on the ground for so many years.

With unrelenting eyes, he muttered darkly, "Have you ever wondered what would make me happy?" before turning away and running to who knows where this late at night.

"Tetsurou!"

He did what he always did best ー running away from his problems.

The young boy did this when he was in the middle of his parents' fights when he was just a little boy and he brought it with him until he was in primary school, where his mother took him under her wing all the way to Tokyo. He nearly ran away when Kenma came into his life, the prospect of having friends and interacting with other children his age so dreadful to the boy that he didn't speak until Kenma asked him what games to play, thus, spurring the two to start volleyball. He nearly ran away when middle school and high school came, the latter made his anxiety rise much higher than the previous point in his life. But this was all erased when many of his high school classmates approached him out of nowhere, clinging onto him and confessing left and right, something that he was not proud of.

The messy-haired boy slowed down his pace to a walk, tears bleeding through his vision and blending in with the drops of rain pattering down on him. "I hate this," he muttered, making measured footsteps on the cobblestones, not noticing that his surroundings seem to transition into a shrine. "I hate the world. I hate myself. I wish I would just end this miserable life right away." Just then, a strong odor of tobacco wafted through his senses, making him perk up in wariness.

In front of him was a huge man dressed in an elaborate yukata, casually smoking on a fancy pipe that Kuroo thought was a relic based on its golden sheen that illuminated under the shrine's overhead lanterns. Feeling skeptical at his current situation, Kuroo slightly took a step back with his eyes still set on the man sitting with a mask stall beside him. His heartbeat picked up its pace because of the nerves starting to churn in his stomach but the dark-haired boy still glanced at the number of masks plastered on the stall and oddly enough, all he could see were cats instead of the variety of animals that were displayed in some of the festival stalls down the hill.

"Welcome," the unnamed man said in a raspy and deep voice, his big, slitted yellow eyes glancing over at Kuroo. "Do you want to try one on? It is said to erase all your worries the moment your face touches the mask."

Erase all your worries?

Kuroo gulped before opening his mouth to speak, "How much is one?"

That offer tempted him and based on the man's appearance, he wasn't a scammer that would run away with his money. There was something from the man's voice that compelled him to try just one mask to see if what he said is true because he definitely needed an escape from reality right about now.

The man chuckled ominously. "No need to pay, young man."

The messy-haired boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Is this because your offer is a hoax?"

At this, the unnamed man's chuckles became a full-on laugh. Laughter of scrutiny thrown at him, making Kuroo squirm in his perch. "There wasn't anything about a hoax in what I said, kid. Here," the man reached out from behind him and picked out a black cat mask, throwing it at Kuroo, who leaned forward to catch the object, "try it on."

Kuroo flipped the mask. The front was so detailed that it almost looked real, the paint on the mask's nose seemed to glint with the wetness of a real cat's and even the whiskers protruded on either side of it. The ears also captured his attention ー there were fur inside each one and it even depicted the real colors on what you can see on a cat. The back wasn't much with its embellished white appearance but when Kuroo slowly lifted the mask to try it on, it snuggly fit the shape of his face, sending chills down his spine. It was like the mask was made for him. But his admiring came to a halt when an invisible wall slammed on him, making him lose his balance.

The next moment was so bizarre to Kuroo. At first, everything was normal to him and the next, all objects loomed over his figure like skyscrapers. But when he blinked at the green color invading his optics, his vision seems to sharpen, even more, zeroing on where the man was previously seated and only finding no sign of the unnamed person. His chest tightened with anxiety, jumping at the slightest of sound picked up by his hearing. With shaky legs, Kuroo walked on the pathway with the sole purpose of going home and just wrapping himself in his duvet, praying that the next day will be much kinder to him. Upon passing by a vending machine right at the base of the shrine, his golden eyes widened when his reflection showed a black cat instead of his tall physique.

What is happening?

"What in the world?" Kuroo voiced out but instead of his usual timber, a series of meows ricocheted through the empty shrine. He jumped two feet in the air in surprise, spooked that even the black cat in the vending machine's reflection showed rod-like fur. After a few moments, he slowly walked towards the reflection, both curious and unnerved at what he just witnessed. "How?"

Placing a paw on the glassy surface, Kuroo roamed his eyes over his new body. He wasn't even surprised that the cat he donned has black fur and a small tuff of hair covering a portion of his right eye. Gradually, the boy's parted lips turned into a large smile as he whooped in the air while jumping around. It was cute in a human's perspective ー a little black cat hopping from cobblestone to cobblestone, his little meows twinkling in the night breeze. In all honesty, Kuroo felt so alive to leave his human life behind and the only thought lingering in his head is how much he wanted to be a cat his whole life ー lazing around and looking for different homes all day, no room for homework and the constant argument of familial connections. For an entire hour, Kuroo marveled at the world from a different perspective as he never stopped swaying happily down the path.

Until a familiar scent hit him ー watermelon.

And true enough, there on one of the benches was [Last Name][Name], who was looking blankly at the park in front of her with a half-finished bottle of banana milk loosely held in her hands. It looked like she came from one of her college prep classes based on what she was wearing — a beige turtleneck sweater and a tawny pencil skirt covered by a trench coat. Her hair was the same hairstyle Kuroo always liked on her, a loose braid running down on one of her shoulders, with her fringe carefully framing her ethereal face. It was no surprise to everyone how much he likes the girl and it shows how he gawked at her with round, golden eyes.

She looked at the side and when her gaze found him, Kuroo visibly jumped in shock again. The girl rose her eyebrows in surprise at the sight of the adorable black cat pausing a few feet from her. Kuroo watched [Name] open her backpack and mumbling things under her breath as she searched for something in her bag. Brightening when she finally found what she was looking for, the black cat curiously watched as [Name] waved a pack of biscuits in the air and beckoned him towards her.

"I have some snacks, kitty," she told him, which strangely compelled him to come closer. Who doesn't? The girl he absolutely adores called him 'kitty' with that beautiful smile, of course, he would follow her. When he stopped by her shoes, she then lowered her voice, "Is it alright if I pick you up?"

Kuroo meowed in approval, which [Name] happily took as a good response since she carefully picked him up and placed him on her lap. She then softly ran her fingers on his head, making him purr in contentment. Before nibbling on a biscuit, Kuroo enjoyed the warmth [Name] emitted, looking up at her with his pupils blown wide, which is a sign of his fascination with the girl.

"The night is beautiful ー it's like everything disappeared," she pensively voiced out, her eyes softly staring at the black cat on her lap. "I need more moments like these. People want me to do things that they want, not knowing how much I wanted to be free when I step out in the real world. I mean, I'm going to be eighteen soon and it's a sign that my dad should stop placing shackles that makes me want to cry. I don't even want to be a doctor." She pursed her lips as she paused for a bit as she muttered, "It's so suffocating." The girl then felt paws on her shoulder, making her look up at the adorable black cat, which was a few inches from her face. Then, she felt the tiniest kiss on her cheek, something that elicited a giggle from her. "That tickles."

Raising her hand from her lap, [Name] wrapped them around the cat's body, lifting him a little higher and placing him on her shoulder.

"You smell like lavender," she whispered. "I love it."

Through the night, the boy trapped inside the black cat's body heard his heart pound in his chest, his adoration for the girl blossoming like the fireworks lighting the park.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyu x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu kuroo #i am in love with this movie uwu #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n

[peachymarkeu]

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: NCT 127 x OC

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: Fluff, Angst & Suggestive

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: What is it like being an 18 year old girl that had just moved into her new apartment and then suddenly meeting the people she would consider to be her brothers while being away from her parents?

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 4: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓝𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓮𝓭

Kringg...Kringg...Kring…

‘Uh- the hell is that sound, can’t you see I’m sleeping’ I thought.

The ringing sound stopped for a while so I continued sleeping peacefully until.

Kringg…Kringg... Kring…

‘Oh come on again.’ I thought in my sleep again.

Once again the ringing stopped and I went back to sleep again.

Kringg....Kringg...Kringg… 

“Aish what is that sound.” I said while looking for my phone on the nightstand.

I was pushing stuff off the stand until I found my phone. When I got it I realized that it was the one that was making the loud ringing noise.

“Agh- I was sleeping so well then I heard this aish. The hell its only ei-” I cut my rambling once I saw the details on my phone.

January 8, 2021 | Monday | 8:30 am

‘Shit, I’m LATE!’

I got up as quickly as I could and went straight to the bathroom. Since I’m already so late there was no time to take a shower and fix my hair and stuff. All I did was brush my teeth, comb my hair and started to put on my uniform. After putting on my uniform I went out of the bathroom and went straight to my front door to put on my shoes. I didn’t bother getting breakfast at this point, I can just eat something in the cafeteria. After putting on my shoes I got my school bag, coat and keys and went out of my apartment. Once I got out I saw Auntie Minjie getting ready to go out, to the grocery i guess since she there was a little shopping stroller beside her.

“Oh good morning Yuna!” Auntie Minjie Greeted me.

“Good morning Auntie Minjie! Sorry I really need to go now I'm super late for school!” I told her while running backwards towards the elevator.

“Have a good day and travel safe!” she told me while waving.

“Thank you! You too!” I yelled back still while running.

I was near the elevator and saw the doors slowly closing. 

“WAIT!” I yelled and put my hand in between the doors before it closed so that It wouldn’t close.

I got inside and leaned on the elevator walls. The ground floor button was already pressed so I didn’t have to worry about that anymore. I closed my eyes while trying to catch my breath from all the running.

‘Ugh, what way to start the week’ I thought to myself

My hair was covering my face which was why I couldn’t really see whoever was inside the elevator as well. I didn’t even care who was inside. The only thing in my mind was getting to school before the bell rings. I checked the time using my phone and saw 8;45 am flashed on my screen. This was a huge problem. Still need to learn how to get to my school from my apartment. I hit my head 3 times and tried to compose a plan before getting off the elevator.

‘Ok so I’ll search for the directions on my phone, make a run for it and pray that I’ll be able to get to school on time.’ I formulated my plan in my head.

I opened my navigation app and placed my location and the school’s location. I loaded real quickly so I saw the calculations and directions for me to get to my school. It said that it was a 30 minute walk to my school from my apartment so if I run to school I might get there twice as fast and half the time. 

Once the elevator doors opened I sprinted out the elevator and the building. I kept running while looking at my phone for the directions. I was halfway to my school until I tripped and scraped my knees. I saw that my shoes were untied. I guess I didn’t notice them getting untied while I was running.

“Aish you’re so stupid Yuna. You should’ve double tied your shoes so that this wouldn't have happened now you’re wasting time.” I said, talking to myself like a crazy person.

I got up again and checked my phone for the directions. I checked the time and it read 8:55 am. I only had 5 minutes left. I ran as fast as I could until I reached my school. When I arrived I was already 10 minutes late for class. I sprinted up the stairs up until the 3rd floor. I arrived at my classroom and opened the sliding door forcefully which made a loud noise. Every head in the classroom turned to me including the teacher.

“Kim Yuna late.” the teacher announced to the class.

“I’m sorry sir I woke up late this morning and-” I rambled.

“I don’t care about your excuses so go and take your seat. You’ve already disturbed the class.” the teacher snapped at me. 

I bowed to him still as a sign of respect and quietly proceeded to my seat. As I walked across the room all eyes were still on me. Classmates of mine were whispering at each other and were chuckling while looking at me. I must’ve looked like such a wreck. I felt so humiliated that I kept my head down while walking. When I reached my empty seat, I saw my elementary friend, Lee Sungho sitting beside it.

“Hey Yuna, you alright…?” he asked me carefully.

Before I could answer him the teacher cut me.

“So what were we discussing before I was rudely interrupted by your classmate Miss Kim Yuna?” he said, emphasising the word rudely as if he was rubbing it on my face.

I heard a few of my classmates laughing before the teacher continued with his lesson. I’ve never felt so humiliated in my life that tears were brimming my eyes. I felt Sungho tap my shoulder lightly as a sign of comfort. I looked at him and gave him a small smile, assuring him that I was alright. After that I tried my best to focus on the discussion while  restricting myself from letting my tears fall.

*School Chime Ring*

“Class Dismissed. Everyone may now step out of the classroom except for Ms. Kim Yuna” the teacher said while fixing his things on his desk.

‘Well shit’ I thought to myself.

“Yuna-yah, I’ll wait for you outside,” Sungho told me. I bowed to him as an acknowledgment as he strutted out the classroom.

Slowly, I walked to the front of the classroom to Mr. Park’s table. He was fixing some papers on his desk when he lifted his head and looked at me very sternly.

“Miss Kim, I am quite disappointed with you. You are close to failing my class then I see you come to class 15 minutes late.” he said in a very strict manner.

“I’m sorry” I said, bowing my head.

“You are in your senior year. You know that grades are very important to pass your college. You better study and get your grades up. I don’t want to see you coming to class late again. If you continue to have bad grades, say goodbye to entering college because there is no way I will be passing you in my class.” Mr. Park said while grabbing his things and stepping out of the classroom.

I was left alone in the classroom with tears streaming down my face. As I felt them cascading down, I rubbed them off using the back of my hand. I got my things and went outside to meet Sungho who was waiting for me.

“Yah, you alright?” Sungho asked me. His face was full of concern.

“Hm… I’m alright.” I said hiding my sadness with a small smile.

We proceeded to go to the cafeteria for lunch. When we got there, students were lined up, some were even cutting in line just to get what they wanted. Sungho and I waited patiently in line. He sparked up a conversation about his funny experience during his soccer training yesterday. I laughed at all his stories which made my mood become better until.

“Yah move” she said in a very annoyed tone. She cut in line and was now infront of me.

Gwan Aeri. The girl who seems to be so annoyed with me everytime. I don’t know why she’s so annoyed with me since I never did anything to her. Plus, she’s my number one bully. She would push me around, embarrass me and all that stupid stuff. Good thing she wasn’t in Mr. Park’s class. If she was, I would be suffering a lot by now.

I saw her getting her food already so Sungho and I got our trays and started to get food as well. She didn’t get much only bread and milk. I saw her open the milk carton and turn towards me. She bumped me intentionally and “accidentally” spilled her milk on me. My uniform top was drenched in milk.

“Oops, sorry.” Aeri said to me without any sincerity.

All the students inside the cafeteria were looking at me. Some were whispering, somewhere chuckling at me again. Sungho took off his jacket and put it on my shoulders to cover me up. Tears were pricking my eyes again from the second time I got humiliated. I continued to get my food with Sungho. Sungho thought that it was better to eat out in the schoolyard rather than inside the cafeteria. We ate in silence. Sungho would sometimes spark up a conversation but I really wasn’t up to talk at that moment.

After lunch, classes continued and I really was not in the mood to listen to the teachers. I would sometimes doodle, stare at something or just zone out. The day miraculously ended really fast and I went home right away. I felt so physically and mentally drained. While walking home, pain from my scraped knee was now there so every step, there was always this stinging sensation. 

I got home and entered the elevator. No one was inside so I sat down on the floor and let my tears fall freely. I hated this day. First I came in late while I scraped my knee, I got scolded and got milk poured all over me. I was completely done for today. When I entered my apartment I dropped my bag and went straight to bed, ignoring the huge amount of assignments I needed to accomplish, and took a really long nap.

I woke up and looked outside my window and saw that it was already dark. The nap helped me recharge physically but I was still tired mentally. I didn’t know what got into me but I found myself going to the building's veranda and just enjoying the city’s view. To be honest, this was the most relaxing part of my day. I was drowning myself in the city’s noise and view until I heard the door to the veranda open. I was ready to tackle this person down but was then surprised to see who was there.

“Oh, Yuna-yah annyeong!” Taeil Oppa said.

“Taeil Oppa annyeong!” I said back less nervous knowing that we’ve already met.

He sat beside me while looking at the view. We both enjoyed the silence until he spoke up.

“How was your day? I saw you sprinting out the elevator this morning.” he said while I was shocked.

“H-how di-” 

“I was the one inside the elevator with you. Didn’t know that you didn't notice me. I was about to call out to you until you ran out once the doors opened.” he said to me which made me remember everything that happened that day again. Tears were brimming my eyes again and Taeil Oppa took notice of it while staring at my face. Before I could answer his question earlier he spoke again.

“You know, whenever I feel down or frustrated I would always come up here and relax to let out everything.” he said and I looked at him. He was looking out into the horizon while speaking then his eyes were back to me.

“You don’t have to keep it to yourself. You don’t have to stop yourself from crying. You can let it all out.” he said in the softest voice. 

With this, tears fell down my cheeks nonstop. Taeil Oppa pulled me to his chest and hugged me tightly and I cried my heart out. I cried for a while but he never let me go. When I stopped crying and had already collected myself Taeil Oppa spoke again.

“I hope you feel better now since you’ve let it all out.” he said and smiled at me and I smiled back.

“Thank you Oppa.” I said to him while still smiling.

“You know it's getting quite chilly already. How about we go to our apartment and we’ll have some ramen.” he said.

“I-uh thank you for the offer but don’t want to disturbed you guys.” I said trying to politely decline but he still insisted.

“ No, no it's alright, we’ve got the day off tomorrow so it's no problem.” he said.

“We’ll if it won't be a problem to you guys” I said

“Ok lezgetit” he said in a high tone which made me giggle.

We both went to the door and he opened it for me. I went inside and he followed.

‘That was the comfort that I needed’

#taeyong #taeil #johnny #yuta #doyoung #jaehyun #jungwoo #mark #haechan #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct #nct127 #10thFloorBrothers

[definitelynottony]

“Santa” “Baby”

[Also on A03]

It was the weekend before Christmas. Some no name Billy didn’t know invited him, Tommy and the whole class to a holiday party he was throwing.

“It’s an open house guys! Just come and bring people with you. I’m getting a couple kegs, parents are outta town. It’s gonna be sick!”

“Sweet man. Yeah we’ll be there, right Billy?” Tommy too eagerly nudged Billy’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

Billy responded nonchalantly. He was almost always down for a party but his current attention was heavily fixated on the tall brunette laughing from up the hallway. He wanted to know what was so funny. That Wheeler girl was with him and Byers so it couldn’t have been anything too entertaining.

“Hey, so uh who else is gunna be there?” Billy’s gaze returned to the boy Tommy was still chatting it up with.

“Not sure man, the whole grade probably”

“Think Harr- whole team, basketball team will be there?”

“Yeah dude, teams always lookin’ for a party.” Tommy jumped in. “Why?”

“Nah no reason. Just wanted ta know if there’s gunna be people I know. Still don’t know half the class man.”

“Well everyone knows who you are so problem solved.”

Tommy over the last few months of Billy starting Hawkins high has become his own personal cheerleader. He was a pocket sized confidence boost and one of the best wing man Billy’s had. But god he could get on his nerves.

Like right now for instance, Tommy turned to wave off no name and then-

“well look who it is! The King bitch himself. Hey Harrington is it true you’ve been having threesoms with creep and creepett. You swing both ways now?”

Tommy H. Called out and taunted Steve Harrington as he made his way past them in the hallway. Steve’s eyes still watery from laughing. Billy saw him coming before Tommy noticed him; Billy’s eyes just had a habit of finding Harrington on reflex.

“Oh fuck you Tommy.” Steve seemed to be caught off guard but he bit with venom. His eyes shifted from Tommy to Billy and back to Tommy.

Billy’s eyes just studied the brunette. He was taking a backseat to whatever this situation was. Although the blonde would admit getting Steve worked up was becoming a favorite pastime of his. He wasn’t too sure how he felt watching Tommy getting a rise out of him but fuck it, cause seeing Harrington’s face contort like that was too good.

“You’d like that huh? Sorry to disappoint Harrington but I don’t swing that way. Guess you’ll have to find Byers if you want some dick.”

“Holy shit Hall I swear if you don’t shut your mouth in two seconds!”

“Awe did I hit a nerve Stevie ?” Tommy H crooned sarcastically.

Steve’s fists were growing white and his jaw clenched. Billy was now inclined to take a front seat position on the conversation. Maybe it became too close to home? But he was putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder giving it a slight pull. Which made both boys stop and look back to the blonde.

“Alright-alright ladies, yur both very pretty. And as entertaining as your lover’s quarrel is I got shit ta do and yur both in my way.”

Billy’s eyes flicked up to the brunette’s just in time to see them go wide for a second. It was enough for him to lick out a grin; he patted Tommy’s shoulder

“I’ll see ya at the party man.”

“Yeah alright Billy, see ya later.” Tommy dismissed him.

Harrington had already taken his leave while Tommy was distracted by Billy’s parting words. Which left Tommy with nothing else to do but go find Carroll and get ready for the party.

Billy found himself walking behind Steve, casually, they were both just heading to the parking lot. Being a Friday made everyone eager to leave the prison that was high school. Steve didn’t seem to be one of those people however. He seemed pretty bummed actually, head hung kind of low and his hands were in his coat pockets. Billy lit a cigarette and puffed out a couple drags.

“Hey pretty boy.” Billy appeared to Steve’s side passing him the cigarette.

The brunette looked at him but continued walking on “I’m not in the mood for any of your shit Hargrove.”

“No strings or bullshit attached. Scouts honor.” He smirked insisting him to take the smoke which finally Harrington did. He took a long hit from it, kept the smoke in for a beat; passing it back to the blonde at his side and released a steady stream of smoke above him. Billy happily took it back.

“Don’t let him get under your skin man, he ain’t worth it.”

“Are, are you trying to be  nice to me right now?” Steve asked shocked.

“Hm. Guess I am. Tis the season fer miracles after all.”

Billy laughed a bit and nudged himself against Steve’s shoulder. “But seriously dude, Tommy’s all talk. He’s always chewing off my ear with shit like ‘Steve and I go way back he use to be the king’ and 'I don’t get why Steve doesn’t just come back and apologize’ . He’s seriously just pining fer yur attention.”

“Yeah then why does he have to say shit like earlier? I mean it’s not cool. If he wants to bust my balls there’s a lot of other shit he can dredge up.” Steve stuck out his hand and reached for the cigarette again.

Billy obliged. “Don’t know man, maybe he’s the insecure one?”

“What? You think he likes dick?”

“I’ve heard of crazier shit.”

“Yeah, so have I, I guess.”

They both laughed and passes the smoke back and for until Steve reached his car first. Billy was still a few rows back. They stood in front of the driver’s side door for a bit, Billy shuttered when a December breeze swept in. A leather jacket (especially with almost nothing underneath) only keeps you so warm.

“You know if you wore more clothes you wouldn’t be so cold.” Steve piped up as he stamped out the butt on the blacktop.

“Yeah, probably, but then everyone would be missin’ out on the show.” Billy grinned around his tongue and used his hand to emphasize his unbuttoned shirt.

Steve’s eyes followed the blonde’s hand, trailed down the strip of skin that showed his chest and a tease of his abs. Nothing Steve hasn’t seen, hell, he’s seen Billy naked in the gym showers. But he’s never blatantly looked at the blonde, some glances here and there but never so openly before. Steve knew Billy knew what he was thinking about it or he wouldn’t have said

“Like what ya see Harrington? Told ya, it would be a shame ta cover up if it means you wouldn’t be lookin’ at me like that no more.”

And Steve cheeks grew dark, he could blame it on the cold but they both knew his face wasn’t that red a minute ago. Steve’s gaze quickly shot up to meet Billy’s again before dropping it all together to look at the ground. Steve knew he was bad at hiding his shit. That’s the reason him and Nancy got together in the first place. She took one look at him and could see his damn heart eyes for her. What could the kid do, he was born with his heart on his sleeve.

“Don’t make that face pretty boy. Just teasin’ ya.” Billy slid up against the BMW to match Steve’s position. He was shoulder to shoulder again and gave the brunette another nudge.

“You know you’re an asshole right?” Steve picked his head back up to see that the blonde had moved in beside him.

“Course I do, it’s a choice Harrington, a lifestyle if you will.”

Steve laughed quietly at that. “So, uh, you going to the party tonight?”

“Steve Harrington, are you askin’ me out?”

“What! No. no I-”

Billy cut him off with laughter,

“Jesus! Fuck off.”

“Sorry! Sorry man” Billy apologized between laughing. He recovered quick enough though when Steve gave his shoulder a hefty punch. “Ow.” The blonde rubbed at it. “I can’t help it Steve, your faces, god there just so good.”

Steve stiffened a bit, that kind of took him off guard. Billy must’ve noticed 'cause he quickly turned to face the brunette “so are you goin’ to the party?” Billy cocked an eyebrow waiting for a response.

“Billy Hargrove, you asking me out?” Steve looked at him and mimicked the blonde as best as he could.

“Sure am pretty boy.” Billy smiled, shifted a bit against the car. Crossed his legs, resting his arm on the car’s rooftop; other hand comfortable on his belt. Definitely a power stance if Steve ever saw one.

“Good one Billy. Not falling for it again though.” Steve said dryly but his face still had remnants of shock on it.

“Well shit. Here I was hopin’ you already fell fer me Harrington. Guess I’m gunna have'ta try harder.”

“…you’re serious?”

“Deadly.”

“I. I… wait.” Steve got off of the car took a few steps and rubbed his forehead. Billy turned forward legs still crossed and his arms now folded over each other barricading his chest. His eyes sharp to the brunette’s back. Then Steve turned on his heels to face the blonde.

“You’re seriously not fucking with me Hargrove?”

“Not yet at least.” Billy scoffed out lowly. It came out as annoyed but it was dripping with relief. “Come'er” he nodded his head and reached out his arm like he was calling in a dog. Well Steve did have puppy eyes.

“What?”

“Said come here” Billy stretched to grab onto Steve’s shirt; he tugged him in, Steve went. He didn’t really know what was happening if he was being honest. For all he knew Billy was either going to punch him for thinking he was actually… gay . Or kiss him cause Billy was actually gay. But the blonde just pulled him in real close till there were just a few inches separating them. Then he settled himself back against the Bimmer.

He licked his lips “Tell me somethin’ Stevie” he was almost at a whisper, a conversation just for their ears only. “Are you fuckin’ around with that Byers’ guy?”

“What! No!” Shouted Steve.

“Shhh” Billy hissed out.

“Jesus. Sorry, no I’m not. He’s with Nancy now anyways. And he’s not even gay.” Steve did or didn’t intentionally leave out 'and neither am I’ cause maybe, maybe he was? Or maybe he just liked both. Boys and girls. Maybe that made more sense to the teen.

“Good. Now tell me somethin’ else. Are you inta dick?”

Cause of course Billy couldn’t just ask him if he was gay! No, he had to be an asshole, ‘cause he was an asshole; by choice!  And Steve’s body stiffened again and he felt his face flush again. And he didn’t even know if his body would let him respond.

“Okay. Let me clarify” Billy reached his hand low to hook onto Steve’s belt loops and dragged him even closer. More threatening, no maybe more sensual? But then again Billy’s entire presence was 'threatening but sensual’ it was just his thing. “Are you inta my dick?”

If the bolt of heat that just surged through Steve’s body, and how tightly he was clenching his fists was any indication then he’d have to go with a solid, hell yes . But what came out was more of a shaky loss of breath whimper.

Billy’s eyes shut for a beat as he sighed out a heavy growl like breath. “Think I’ll take that as a yes then Harrington.”

“Y-yeah” Steve whispered out. Billy was staring him down. He was very content with himself at the moment, maybe even be happy if Steve would make another pretty sound for him. So the devil in leather snuck his fingers up from the brunette’s jeans and pinched at his side.

“Fuck. Ow! Biiilly!” He whined and the blonde ate it up, Steve whining his name. Yeah, he could leave happy now.

“You’re such a a- Ow! Billyyy! Stoop!”

“What, my hand slipped.”

“Up my shirt? You’re hand slipped up my- oh. Shit. That’s actually a good one.” Steve laughed. Billy ate that up too, then he pushed himself up off Steve’s car. Momentarily making the two even closer than previously before.

“Hey” Steve whispered out cause any louder would have been too loud with their proximity.

“Hi” the blonde charmed.

“You wanna come over before the party? Pregame or something.”

“Or somethin’ ?”

“Yeah.”

Billy bit at his lip in frustration then turned his head and broke his eye contact with the brunette. “Can’t.”

“But I-”

“Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t wanna pretty boy. Just said I can’t. I gotta bring Max home.”

“Oh. Your sister right?”

“Step sister” he corrected. “You meet 'er yet? She seems ta always be hanging with those nerds that are attached ta yur hip.”

“They’re not-” Steve paused, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to defend the kids or himself. “Yeah I met her. She’s a”

“-a shitbird.” Billy finished for him.

“Was gunna say spitfire but yeah, sure.”

“Well whatever she is, she’s been waiting fer me in the car.” Billy pointed to his Camaro and Steve’s eyes followed. Yeah, there she was,she looked kind of pissed, definitely cold. Steve waved a little awkward. Max looked the other way.

“Like I said, shitbird.”

Steve laughed. “Okay, I’ll see you later I guess.”

“Bet on it Stevie.”

When Steve climbed into the BMW he was slumped over in complete shock as to what just happened. His eyes were wide and he was zoned out, gaze fixed on his steering wheel. It took him a few to get the car going, shaky hands and all.

Billy got into the Camaro.

“So?” Max said still looking out the window

“Yeah.”

“Told ya.”

“Shut it!”

Billy started up the engine and pulled out of the lot, almost drifting on an ice patch.

“How’d you get in the car anyways?”

“Picked the lock”

“Figures.”

Yeah. Billy has taught her well, not that he’d ever admit it.

_

And then Steve walked into the party. It was a little later then he thought he’d originally get there but he had to make sure his hair looked, well, even better than it normally did. He walked around, it was a good size house. He recognized most of the faces he saw and then he got a beer. Made the rounds, he didn’t see Billy so far but he’d only been there for twenty minutes. He did meet Santa Claus though. He was nice, gave him a jello shot and a condom. Very thoughtful of him.

He talked it up with a few people here and there. Finished his first beer and was half way through the second one when he heard what he assumed was Billy; or more so where he could find Billy.

“That’s how you do it Hawkins!”

“Long live the keg king!”

People cheering, shouting, clapping. Kind of hard to miss really. Steve wasn’t sure why he didn’t think to check out back to begin with; didn’t really matter however since the crowd was returning inside. Steve could see Billy, still in his leather jacket but he was wearing a red button down now. Completely opened, honestly there was no point in even wear a damn shirt if he wore it like that. There was quite a crowd around the dubbed new keg king so Steve just circled around a bit. Didn’t really want to disrupt or more so interrupt.

It’s like Billy could smell him or something though, 'cause before Steve could lap around the kitchen to grab another drink, Billy was gaining on him.

“Ssstevie” He crooned after the brunette, slurring probably more then tipsy. “Sttop walkin away” he demanded.

“I’m not walking away Billy, I’m just grabbing another drink. Chill out.”

“God. I’m sssooo happy yur 'ere Stevie.” Billy was basically nuzzling into Steve’s shoulders.

“Billy how drunk are you right now?” Steve laughed as he opened his bottle. He tried to turn around but Billy wouldn’t let him. He held him in place with his body heavy on the brunette’s back.

“Come on Billy, get off.”

“Mmm. Keep s'alking like that Harrington ands I might.” The drunk blonde slurred in Steve’s ear. Could have been a turn on his he wasn’t so damn gone. Steve wasn’t sure if this was how Billy got when he drank all the time or if it was just tonight but Billy was stuck to him like glue.

“I’m gonna take it you’re a clingy drunk, huh Billy?” Steve out maneuvered the blonde so he could finally turn around. He kind of wished he hadn’t because staring back at him was a shiner the size of a tennis ball. It took up almost Billy’s whole right side jaw.

“Shit! Billy what happened?” Steve put down his beer, full worried mom mode and grabbed Billy’s face to examine it. It looked fresh, too fresh and it had dried blood scabbed over it; which meant it hadn’t been cleaned yet.

“Life happensed Stevie.” Billy smirked pushing his face closer; trying to get more into Steve’s face. Steve was being a killjoy and pushing him back.

“Seriously Billy, I know your smashed but just tell me who hit you?” The brunette was more pouty then demanding.

“Nuna yur business Harrin'ton” Billy bit out, standing back up properly. Well as proper as drunk people do.

“I’m just worried about you asshole.”

“Don’t be. We’re 'ere ta have a good time. Ight?” Billy tried to scoop Steve into his arm but Steve pulled away.

“No. Not alright. You can go have a good time. I think I’m just gonna go.”

“Shit. No, Stevie come on. Just-just come on.”

“Billy I’ve been in this situation before and it didn’t end well for me. Don’t really want to go through it again.” Steve started to leave, the sting of Nancy’s drunken stooper started to burn again.

“Stevieee! I’m sorry. Come on. Don’t leave me.” Billy pulled on the brunette’s arm, even when drunk he was still stronger than Steve. Steve tripped back landed somewhere between gripping the counter and leaning on Billy.

“Ow. Billy stop!”

“Shit. Shit. Did I hurt you? Fuck I’m sorry Steve.” Billy let go. It almost seemed to sober him up.

“It’s fine, you just tugged me too hard. I’m fine.”

“Steve. I’m sorry. Such an asshole, fuck. Are ya sure yur not hurt?” Billy tried gently rubbed over the brunette’s shoulder.

“I said I’m okay. Yeah you are an asshole but you didn’t do that on purpose, ok? You’re drunk and-” Steve was cut off by Billy’s thumb sliding over his lips. “Billy?” Steve muffed around his thumb.

Billy had a smirk on his face, it wasn’t his usual 'sex’ grin; it was small and quiet. “Hey”

“Hi” they were back to this apparently.

“You look real nice Stevie. I didn’t tell you that yet.” Billy pressed his thumb a little harder to Steve’s mouth.

“Tha-mmph” Steve was cut off again, he had to admit the way Billy was looking at him, only at him was more of a turn on then Billy’s thumb in his mouth. Steve bit it, not too hard but hard enough and pulled his head back, trying to get it out of his mouth. That just seemed to get Billy even more aroused.

“Mmm.” He growled in the back of his throat. “Stevie yous look so good with somethin in yur mouth.”

Shit. Yeah. That definitely flipped the switch on. But that wasn’t happening, not in the middle of a random dudes kitchen surround with random kids they went to school with.

“Okay. Billy, how bout we find you a place to sit down? Sound good.”

Billy nodded his head, he was still stupid grining at Steve as the brunette tried to lead him out to the main house area. “Billy can you at least try to stand up, you’re fuckin heavy.”

“All muscle baby.” He cooed in Steve’s ear. Steve rolled his eyes. This is why he stopped coming to parties after the whole Nancy thing. He couldn’t deal with drunk people. All his patience went with dealing with the brat pack.

“Bathroom” Billy perked up “yeah” he agreed with himself.

“You have to go?”

“No we have'ta go.” He corrected Steve.

“Fine. Whatever.” He really didn’t want to deal with this situation anymore. They stumbled around a bit, mostly due to Billy not picking up his feet but then Steve found the master bedroom. It was a familiar layout so he figured it would be in the back like his parent’s room was. His house was bigger though, not that he really cared about that sort of thing.

“Alright, there’s the bathroom.” Steve let go of the blonde and pointed to the master bath. Billy just looked around the room, stared at the bed for a beat and that stupid grin came back all too quickly.

“Oh no you don’t loverboy. We came here for the bathroom so get that stupid smirk off your face.” Steve chimed hoping to break the chain of whatever Billy was thinking of .

“You’re no fun Stevie.” Billy sulked as he scuffed into the bathroom. “Well come on!” He called impatiently.

“What? I don’t have to go.” Steve waited back.

“Get in 'ere Harrington!”

“Jesus! Alright!” Steve stomped into the bathroom after Billy, Billy closing the door behind him.

“Okay, what?” Steve asked as Billy sat on the closed toilet seat. Apparently he didn’t have to go either cause he just sat down and patted his lap.

“Sit.”

“No way.”

“I thought ya were gunna clean me up pretty boy.”

“Oh.” Steve blinked for a moment, yeah that was still bothering him. He looked at the bruise, it seriously looked like it was still swelling. So Steve started shuffling through the cabinets to find a washcloth, rubbing alcohol ect.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Steve asked as he wet the cloth.

“I ran inta a door ” he replied dryly.

“Billy.”

“Fine.” It wasn’t much of a fight but Billy surrendered and Steve rewarded him for it.

“So?” The brunette asked as he sat down on Billy’s lap, completely straddling him and the toilet seat with his long legs. Billy leaned back giving Steve more room to sit. Billy moaned as he shuffled on top of him; grabbing hold of his hips for support.

“Mmm fuck” Billy huffed out biting his lip slowly rutting up into the brunette.

“Hey cool it big guy we ain’t doing shit till you tell me what happened.” Steve started to wipe the bruise off, it was still warm to touch. “Start talkin Hargrove.”

“God. You’re so fuckin hot when yur bossy baby. Fuck. Just wanna eat you up.” Billy’s grip tightened as he pushed up against Steve again.

And yeah, that was definitely getting Steve hot, like really fucking hot. But he also was stubborn and he was gonna get his answer one way or another. “This is going to sting alright.” He disclaimed as he rubbed the alcohol over the blonde’s jaw.

“AHow shit!” Billy jumped as his grip grew stronger on Steve.

“I warned you, now start talking or I’m going to do it again.”

“God damn Harrington! You’re more of an asshole then I am.” Steve just held up the washcloth again. “Fuck. Alright. I got inta it with my old man okay. Not a big deal.” Billy relaxed a bit back against the seat.

“Your dad did that? Why?”

“I was late bringin Max home today.”

“Shit. C-cause of me? She was late cause you were talking to me.”

“Hey, no, no it was all my fault Harrington, you hear me.” He pulled Steve in closer to his chest.

“Still. He hits you? That, shit, Billy.”

“Steve, it’s fine. It ain’t all the time and it’s only when I deserve it.”

“What the fuck?” Steve’s face furrowed “Billy you don’t deserve that! Not to get hit. Period.”

“Ste-mmm” lips met lips and Steve’s were crashing hard down onto Billy’s. His fists pulled tight onto the leather collar of Billy’s jacket. The blonde’s hands started gripping again, hungrily. He leaned up more into the kiss; to bite, to introduce his tongue. Steve’s mouth was so hot, and he was starting to rut into Billy now.

They pulled away for air, the brunette moaned quietly as Billy pushed Steve’s hips down deeper against him. They were both so hard, Steve can’t remember the last time he was actually this hard, this hot, panting.

“Fuck pretty boy. You’re so goddamn good baby.” Billy praised the other as he kissed into his neck. He was going to have Steve cuming in his pants at this rate.

“Billy” he whined, his hands moved up to grip onto the blonde’s shoulder’s for support as he grinded himself down harder “fuck” his breath caught in his throat.

“That’s it baby. Just like that.”

“Fuck, Billy I need more” Steve pleaded to the blonde receiving a wide grin from the other who then leaned up to kiss him again. Then his hands left the brunette’s side and started to unbutton Steve’s jeans. He was so hard, his dick trying to rip out of them. So eager for Billy’s hand to latch onto it. “Ahhh” Steve shuddered as Billy started to rub him, his hand is so big and warm and all Steve could do was fling his head back in pleasure.

“You’re fuckin gorgeous Stevie.”

“Mmm Billy! You feel so good ”

“Fuck” Billy growled, guttural against Steve’s shoulder. His own dick was throbbing, the rough denim against it almost hurt. “Stevie baby” the blonde panted out as he grabbed one of Steve’s hands off his shoulder and slid it down to his bulge. Steve bit his lip and nodded undoing the blonde’s pants. “Yeah, god fuck yes. You feel amazing baby”

Billy was a talker but the praises really did something for Steve. Like encouraging him that he’s doing something right, cause yeah he’s jerked off plenty of times, but he’s never done it for another guy before. He tried to focus on what he likes, rubbed his thumb over the head down his shaft; returning his attention back to the slit. That made Billy shudder and buck in Steve’s hand.

“Billy I’m gunna-”

“Yeah me too baby” the blonde leaned up to kiss Steve, slow and passionate with just a hint of teeth. Steve cried and whimpered in Billy’s mouth and Billy licked it all up. Then they came, Steve followed quickly by Billy. They were a mess of sweat and hot breaths and cum covered jeans. And they were all smiles and soft giggles and kisses.

“Christ, Harrington.” Billy leaned up against the sink counter after they cleaned up a bit. Steve was still trying to wipe off his pants after tucking himself back in. “I know I’m not Santa Clause, but you can sit on my lap anytime baby.”

“Oh my god, Billy. Just shut up and kiss me.”

#That one shot I was talking about #Harringrove #Christmas Harringrove #Billy is an asshole #Drunk Billy Hargrove #Mom Steve #High key bossy bottom Steve Harrington #billy x steve #billy x steve fanfic #harringrove fanfic #harringrove au #harringrove fic #mywritings

[mydarlingklaus]

Black Roses, Chapter 4: With every update comes more love and support and I cannot express my gratitude enough.  As usual, the link to my ff account is at the end if you could so kindly leave a review. Much appreciated. I’m not posting the whole chapter on this platform because it’ll take forever to space it all out so click the link for the full chapter. Happy reading (:

Tyler admired Caroline from across the table, leaning back on his chair as she digested her grimoire and paying him no mind. After lunch they both had free period which is usually when they engaged in quality alone time together but found themselves in a study room instead.

He knew how busy she's been lately and his schedule was no better which prompted his plans to woo her into immense PDA for the next 40 minutes. But Caroline had other plans, stressing herself out to get things done and was too focused on her work to notice her boyfriend's prying eyes.

Almost.

"You're staring." She sang with a smile, making it clear she sensed him far before saying anything.

The werewolf smiled back. "What can I say, I like the view." He shrugged.

"Cheesy. Very cheesy." Caroline softly laughed under her breath shaking her head and continued reading.

She hadn't noticed Tyler sitting up from his chair and subtly moved to her side of the booth now right beside her. His immediate warmth was hard to hide so she wasn't too shaken up even when he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear with his finger.

Caroline didn't allow the close proximity to phase her, teasing him by not giving the attention she knows he's desperate for was reward enough.

"Would it be less cheesy if I had very dirty intentions?" He said suggestively against her skin.

Her slight shiver not enough reason to give in. She dismissed his seductive promises with a shrug and abruptly changed the subject. "Want to see this new spell I learned? Your girl can basically cause a wildfire using just her mind." Caroline proudly claimed with a widened smile.

Of course she was proud.

It was a spell she had been working on since last semester for her senior seminar class that she consistently messed up on; whether ingredient measurements or other distractions. Multiple trials later, she felt it was finally perfected and was eager to show it to the person she cared most about.

Tyler brushed off her comment with nonchalant nods with lips seeking out her skin again.

"Later, much later." He suggested with his lips brushing her cheek before dipping lower to caress her jaw and kissing repeatedly. His hand grabbing one side of her face to keep her head at an angle as his sensual actions continued.

Caroline momentarily lost herself in the feel of his affections, forgetting her hurt from his dismal of her excitement.

Tyler was a great boyfriend majority of the time, but he wasn't the best support system when it came to her witchery. When they were just friends, he always claimed how confusing witches were and how the witchcraft gave him the creeps, but then he fell for Caroline. She thought with him being with her it'd encourage him to learn more about what she is and but it never came and she didn't press him about it.

The book nearly dropped after her shallow moan of appreciation. His other hand venturing lower to her waist pulling her closer.

A part of her wanted to indulge and relax but she knew how irresponsible it would be if she succumbed. Her eyes closed for a second before opening wide soon after. She couldn't risk sparing any time or being distracted.

Lightly pushing him against his chest when he attempted to drifting lower onto her neck, Caroline groaned.

"Stop." She whined lightly pushing him away.

Tyler sighed frustratingly and annoyed. His fingers ran through his hair wildly as he sat up his chair with a scowl. "Really Care?"

Caroline threw her hands in the air. "What? I told you I have a lot of work to do."

"And I don't?" He raised his voice. "Yeah, I have tons of assignments and football but I still make time for you, for us. To steal these moments with each other while we can..." Leaning in for another kiss that Caroline immediately dodged.

The blonde scoffed turning her face. "Seriously? That's what this is about, you're pissed because I don't want to make out with you whenever you want?" She accused.

"Honestly? Yeah, kinda." He admitted. "Or maybe I'm just pissed that my girlfriend seems to be more into her stupid spell book than me."

Caroline's head shot up with an upset snarl. "It's not stupid." She defended.

Tyler pressed his lips into a line appearing apologetic. "Hey," Grabbing her hand into his affectionately. "I'm sorry babe, okay? I just miss you and feel like we haven't spent a lot of time together lately. We're the royal couple at this school but I don't feel very royal-like when I'm not with you." He joked making Caroline grin at the corniness.

It wasn't that Caroline was intentionally trying to blow Tyler off but she genuinely had a full plate of responsibilities, not to mention her mother informing her earlier in the day she'd be visiting some time this week. Whitmore's first football game was in just a few days, homecoming committee meetings were tomorrow; her class work and personal work were clashing. The pressure kept piling on and she longed for a break that would never come, and Tyler was a part of the break she needed.

She gave him a warm smile, leaning into him to capture his lips in a sweet but brief kiss. "I know, I'm sorry too. I know I'm a mess and probably the worst girlfriend ever."

Tyler looked up, pretending to ponder. "Not the worst..." He teased making Caroline laugh.

"I appreciate you wanting to make time for me, I do. But you know how important my lineage is and what it means to my family to remain the supreme witch by the time I graduate." She explained.

"I get it, you know I do." Tyler sighed. "I get how important this is for you but it's not everything, right? You're more than just spells and shrunken heads." He laughed.

Caroline's forehead slightly creased in irritation. Irritated that Tyler wasn't understanding what she was trying to say at all.

- He really doesn't get it.

Tyler's hands crept up on both sides of her face softly. "I want you, Care. I like being with you but lately it seems I've been in a relationship with you and the grimoire."

"Oh, you mean how I felt last semester with you and your football

Her response died when his mouth covered hers briefly with a promising kiss. The abrupt act of affection stunned the blonde witch who's air nearly knocked out her lungs from the aggression. He pulled away with an event brighter smile that she reciprocated, deciding not to start another argument.

"Let's go away this weekend just you, me and my parents' lake house. The next full moon isn't for a couple of weeks so I'll still be around. Perfect opportunity for us to, reconnect." He suggested.

She nearly forgot about the full moon that occurred once a month was quickly approaching.

Caroline dreaded this time of the month because Tyler would go home to, 'handle the situation'. He never wanted to be near, on the certainty that he would hurt someone on campus; most importantly Caroline despite her fascination. Instead, his parents arranged a deal with Headmistress Saltzman for approved leave once a month.

Money can get you anything.

He would run wild and free in the dark woods near his mansion, about 30 minutes from the school.

Without a doubt Caroline missed him during that time but a romantic getaway? As if they were a married couple trying to keep their love alive instead of just two teenagers who needed a breather.

The witch's mouth agape. "Tyler-"

"Imagine how beautiful and peaceful it'd be to have a little getaway before things get too wild around here. Before we both become caught up in other stuff and really won't have much time together till graduation. And, my parents said I can use it whenever I want." Tyler excitedly proposed.

Caroline nervously laughed. "You realize we have school, right?"

"Obviously," Rolling his eyes. "But it's just the weekend and all we need is the approval from Headmistress Saltzman then it's a done deal." He said nonchalantly.

Tyler turned Caroline's chair until she was completely facing him. She slightly flinched when he grabbed her hand again and leaving a kiss on her knuckles.

"We're stressed already, especially you, and being on campus all the time is probably making it worse." He accurately claimed. "A weekend away is exactly what the doctor ordered." He said with a convincing smile.

It was a very tempting offer that Caroline would usually jump at the opportunity for.

The Lockwood lake house was legendary, especially during Summer vacation. Tyler came from a wealthy family as well, his father was the Mayor of Whitmore though he had to keep his family tree a secret from the public. Nothing would hurt more in his campaign than everyone finding out their dear mayor and his son were half beast. Tyler's mom was human, marrying into the supernatural improved her knowledge on the nature of werewolves; it's what Caroline wished Tyler would do for her. Caroline only met his parents a few times and never feeling more cold and inferior than talking to Mrs. Lockwood.

They allowed Tyler to rent out the lake house that had been passed down by generations. All his parties were lively and extravagant. Nearly the entire class was invited, minus vampires of course. Not to mention it sat on the most beautiful lake in town with the perfect view of the dusk and dawn. Caroline loved it and being there would probably be the perfect stress relief.

She sighed defeated. "That sounds so nice, really, but I don't have much time to spare especially with this group assignment from Professor Sommers' class that determines if I graduate or not. Can you believe she really paired me with Klaus Mikaelson?"

The werewolf's eyebrows shot up curiously. "Mikaelson? Why do you two have a class together?"

"It's a general education class, everyone's allowed apparently." Caroline said disapprovingly.

"Huh..." Pressing his lips together.

"Yeah I know. Literally couldn't have received a better graduation gift, right?" She rolled her eyes with a laugh.

Caroline's joking expression faded when she noticed Tyler's face drop and feeling his body tense.

He took a deep breath and slightly relaxed noticing his girlfriend's concerned face.

When he placed a comforting hand on top of hers she felt more calm. "Sorry, sorry it's not you. I just really don't like that guy." He admitted.

"Join the club." She agreed with a wide smile and arms around his neck to bring him in for a deep kiss.

Their lips smooth against each other and in perfect rhythm. He pulled her closer, both arms around her waist tightly and moaning between kisses.

She knew Tyler was just trying to be a good boyfriend, it was more than appreciated and she wanted to be good to him as well; he's yet to give her a reason not to be. She was becoming her own enemy, her personal thoughts and revelations blocking her from reality.

- Fake it till you make it.

She told herself, figuring this was just another one of her phases that would blow over in a day or two.

The werewolf pulled away from the embrace to speak. "But if he ever gives you a hard time-"

"Don't worry. I can handle him." She smiled into another kiss. "Who do you think makes a sport out of giving him aneurysms?"

Tyler laughed in agreement, kissing her lips a final time.

Per usual, Caroline arrived to class before everyone else with three textbooks in her arms and a scowl on her face. Lately she hadn't been bubbly happy Caroline that everyone knows and loves.

She was already having a chaotic day, not to mention one of her cheerleaders sprained their ankle which meant Caroline has to change the squad's formation and she had to prep for another meeting tonight with her coven to discuss homecoming. She performed a minor soothing spell on herself before class to ease her through this last class, especially because today was the first day of working on class projects.

Literally the last thing Caroline wanted to do today was endure vampire company for 40 minutes.

Now sitting at her seat she pushed her hair out her face and began organizing her desk area before class began.

Organization kept her semi sane.

She spread out all her notebooks and pens, color coordinated and perfectly parallel of each other.

Caroline glanced up at the sound of an annoying female laughter coming from the entrance.

More and more students arrived and cleared her view at the nauseating sight of Klaus and the infamous short redhead vampire. Her back pressed against the threshold stupidly laughing at whatever Klaus was saying while he practically towered over her.

The girl was clearly whipped. He could've been telling her it's cold outside or he lost his car keys and she would think it was the funniest thing in the world.

- Gross. Imagine being that sprung over Klaus Mikaelson.

She cringed.

This was the second time Caroline's seen them together all cuddled up looking and acting like a couple; at least this time they were fully clothed. Still she was trying to burn that image out her head.

Caroline never noticed them together before this semester and now they popped up everywhere she turned in the most sickening fashion.

Klaus kept his hands in his pockets but the girl wouldn't stop touching him like she'd die if she didn't. Both her hands caressing his chest through his white Henley seductively, and thigh settled between his. Klaus didn't seem as enthused with her affections but he also wasn't dodging anything to stop it, smirking and egging her on. When he did show a hint of a smile it seemed genuine, and he didn't appear annoyed by her either.

- Maybe it is two-sided?

Caroline found it difficult to not analyze the scene in front of her. It was hard to look away, like watching a tragic car crash.

Caroline wanted to gag. They were so transfixed into each other neither bothered to move out the doorway for the student entering. If anything the redhead used it as an excuse to subtly push herself closer into his body.

- Amateur.

The blonde rolled her eyes.

- Shit!

Full chapter can be found here! Don’t forget to leave a review (:

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline shippers club #klaroline drabbles #my writing #long post

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Life Story Part 56

It was the Christmas of 05', and Sarah finally told me that she and her longtime online friend Alex, from the CKY internet forums had admitted they wanted to become boyfriend and girlfriend. Somehow, and this is to point out how oblivious I can sometimes be – I just hadn't suspected that – even though it had been completely obvious. Some part of me might have known, but I must have still seen us as youngsters too young to be in relationships. She felt sheepish about telling me – maybe embarrassed for dating someone online, which we had always laughed about being stupid, and another for admitting to herself and to me that she had feelings or desires to be with someone altogether.

I didn't know very much about dating honestly. I just suspected that someday you find yourself in a different realm. It's not something that even connects to the everyday. Love was always for me – meant to transcend the everyday somehow. Take you out of your existential inner hell. It would be likened to the books I read as a young girl, of preteens my age falling into magic wells, discovering they have magic powers, being transported by magic mirrors into other realms. You couldn't work to get in love anymore than you could work to get out of it. And deciding you would date seemed like it shouldn't be so factual. I thought Sarah choosing to date someone online was boring in the manner that her and Alex had done was boring, but who was I to say so? It was very hard for me, even then of course to comprehend being in love with anyone but Zack, and in my mind at least, I guess I still saw myself in the center of some love story that hadn't ended yet. But if I took myself out of that space and imagined falling in love, I could only envision what Hollywood had shown – 80's teenage love stories of rebellion and kissing in the rain and murder if necessary to further a story. The act of choosing organically to calmly agree to considering one another boyfriend and girlfriend never seemed enough. A story had to happen. It had to be an event, and most importantly, it had to be lifted by magic.

So Sarah getting herself into a relationship didn't make a lot of sense to me personally (where was the blood, the passion, the rebellion, the resistance and the final giving in, the all or nothing confession that read like high literature?), and I was taken aback, but I didn't judge her for it in the way I think she was afraid I was going to. It seemed like arranged marriage to me, but maybe there had been more to her life talking to Alex online that I didn't know about. Quite likely actually. It never occurred to me, though it was happening in plain sight, that Sarah had another life. Or that she had been desperately lonely, or that she felt tremendously lost. I just figured our dreams of being in a band were enough. And I by my own nature was sort of self centered for not noticing.

And really, I wasn't mad. I didn't see a problem with Sarah having a boyfriend. I would be lying if I didn't feel a little bit frustrated by it. I think I mostly was let down, just a little by the realization that I wasn't her only person anymore. Alex's existence definitely overruled my own. Girls get obsessed with their first boyfriends, and only children – like Sarah often struggle to split their time and energies with those around them in an even way. Plus, even though I knew it was petty to look at it this way, by this made me the only girl in the grade I had been in in Kendrick high school. I knew I was holding out for Zack in reality, but in principle, when would someone ever fall in love with me? Was I unlovable?

Naturally, Sarah was in a very dreamy state for the rest of the school year. Our fights got worse, due to me feeling like she was sort of dreamily and systematically cutting me out. I didn't feel as heard. She answered me less when I asked her psychological or philosophical questions that I felt pertained to our friendship, and just in general, she gave less of herself to her everyday life. The fantasy of finally meeting Alex in person was her primary reality, and I was now in the secondary position. I felt diminished, and to be fair half my anger towards her was probably selfish. I assumed without realizing it, that her dismissal of me was all about me, or that she was against me – since it made me feel bad. And maybe I was a little bit right. Sarah couldn't live up to my standards, she couldn't compete with my pain, she didn't have the same highs or lows that I had. She lived in a fog, and randomly, I burst out of the fog angry at her for not understanding. I was sort of toxic to a degree. And rather than deal with me and my black and white thinking, my confusing ups and downs – she instead decided to find someone else to hide behind who made her feel better about herself.

Besides, staying up three nights a week crying and upset was destroying both of our health. Usually a strong fight – with me explaining my feeling and her getting upset and me getting mad and such, caused me to feel better afterwards or had up to that point – I knew for one that she cared mostly, if only for a day or two. But it was getting to where her and I were crying at one in the morning every other night and I was still upset in the morning when I awoke. I would wake up in a clenched ball of anger and resentment. My head would be pounding as though I had never stopped crying. I would be shaky and the world would seem gray, and the anger wouldn't leave – but life had to continue and the thought of ending the friendship was frightening. If I walked way, I would be lost. Besides, Sarah and I were great friends half the time. You would never know how often we fought. Our senses of humor matched, we seemed to instinctively understand one another. We weren't phony with one another, we didn't judge each other about stuff most people do. I didn't want to walk away from that. I tried to find ways to be happy for her new relationship. I knew I couldn't challenge it.

We started learning about Malcolm X in our history class with Mike. I had never heard of this guy before, and the experience of realizing that public school had intentionally hid Malcolm X from the students deliberately made me realize quite a bit about the state of racism in the united states, and just how much information people don't freaking know. I don't know if it can be chalked up to a conspiracy to make US students as dull and disinterested as possible, or if it's just where I came from, but I was very much on the dark on social issues – and only ever heard about those issues from republican mouth pieces on talk radio. I wasn't aware that racism was the way it was. I didn't know it was still alive in well. Somewhere in my foggy limited education, I remember getting this notion that Martin Luther King took a magic wand and made it disappear and ever since then there had only been a few racist stragglers – not a system that was stacked in a racist bent from the ground up..My father had shown signs of racism, but I tried not to think of those times since they were unpleasant to me, and instinctively as a younger person I had wanted his approval.  And since I grew up in a primarily white town, in a white school, and I was dealing with my own identity and my relationships with those few people I knew in my own small world, I didn't get subjected to, or asked to think about racism at length. Mike was the first person who brought it up to me in a serious way.

I remember Mike starting off his lecture about Malcolm X. He started off by asking us by a show of hands how many of us think racism was just a part of America's past, if we thought it was over now. Most people kept their hands down, though I am certain had my exclassmates been asked in Kendrick, everyone's hands would have flown up. Mike then went onto explaining that he personally felt and knew from what he had seen in life, that racism was still very much real, and undealt with. He explained and demonstrated clear examples of the power dynamics of white society, of Malcolm X's philosophy on white society and black power and how Malcolm X saw the reality of human rights in general. There were parts of the film, which we eventually watched as well that made me uncomfortable, challenged me, and then when I thought I had my own ego comfortably safe from being challenged, I was challenged again.

Learning about the civil rights went on for a few weeks. Mike briefly taught us about Martin Luther King, but he confessed that he had focused more on Malcolm X since he knew public school had not taught us about Malcolm X intentionally since they felt that teaching Malcolm X would be a form of tearing down society and inciting violence, like, he was only mentioned in some senior high school text books. I didn't have a good education at all on Martin Luther King even.

We were supposed to write an essay on the two civil rights leaders comparing the two. I ended up getting a C+ instead of the A+ I was hoping for. I had gotten this hopeful notion in my head after my perfect essay in literature that I could do no wrong from here on out. It was strange to find myself disappointed with a C0+, when just one year previous that would have been an excellent grade for the likes of me. My standards for myself had gone up it seemed, though it also gave me a healthy dose of understanding that I wasn't somehow a genius all of the sudden, just because I had accidentally done something grand. Just because you do one good thing doesn't mean that it will stay with you.

It's at this point too where I have to shamefully confess to something rather shameful and embarrassing. In short,. I tried to debate my very intelligent science teacher after class about homosexuality being a choice – which I completely believed at the time – given my upbringing and some other misunderstandings I had. It is incredibly embarrassing to look back and know that I was adamant about it, and confidently arrogant and egotistical enough to actually try to debate someone. The science teacher, who was also a part time professor at the Pullman University, was one of those people who are so estimable and brilliant he had troubles articulating things to simpletons and he tended to be very methodical and long winded and spoke in a nervous eloquence and I rather liked him overall. I remember his facial expression looking at me in disbelief as he delicately tried to explain his side to me. Like, he sort of wanted to laugh at me, but I think in all earnest he was trying to reach out to me.

I was of course, was asking for impossible amounts of truth and falling back on other kinds of fallacies. I thought I was doing a good job debating when really, I think he was taking pity on my small brain. Though neither he nor I were angry in any way at one another, I can easily see how me coming out with such a narrow minded opinion that I had no experience in could warrant some people to want to punch me in the face, with my smug self confidence on matters that were highly personal and I had absolutely no evidence or reason to doubt. Still, I look back at the amount of patience this science teacher showed me – he listened to what I had to say, he didn't scream at me or get mad. And though it took another year or so, I eventually did come around to his way of seeing things – in part because he listened to me – even though I was wrong, smug and morbidly mistaken and held an opinion that had historically been used to oppress others. His collected attitude towards me helped me change my mind later on in a way it might not have had he blown up in my face. So now, when I find myself at odds with someone – someone who has opposite views as me, I try very hard and attempt to address them like this professor did with me.

There were two reasons why I was under the impression that being gay was a choice. The first one was hearing my father talk about it over and over again like it was some strange alien behavior that sick people randomly enjoyed partaking in. It was the narrative I had grown up with, and having no experience being gay personally, I hadn't reached that point in my life where I was subjected to the concept. I just wasn't there yet, for whatever reason.

The other reason was that I was an outsider to what most people were feeling altogether, and I was assuming everyone was like me. I think I would have to say that in terms of my own sexuality, I am more or less somewhere on the gray scale. I am not asexual, I have a libido and a sex drive, and I am sex positive for the most part, but in terms of seeing people and feeling sexually driven towards them, I have to confess I was a little lost. I realized that there really had to be a lot of meaning between me and another person to find the right link to feel that close to anyone, and even then, what my heart felt, and what I fantasized about was more fantastical circumstances that weren't necessarily sexual. I was really driven by intense romantic circumstances, dialogue, intrigue, while most of my friends in school just wanted to jump people's bones the moment they had the chance in the backseat of a car, I preferred sexual tension to sexual contact if that makes any sense, and though I could appreciate the aesthetic beauty of anyone I met, I really couldn't fathom feeling sexually attracted to anyone.

So, it was for this reason that I more or less assumed that everyone around me must either be faking it or really pushing themselves to feel sexually towards one another. And I assumed it was also the same with genders. I didn't have any conscious disdain for gay people – and I pretty well thought you had a stick up your ass if you did harbor disdain. I just thought it was a 100% choice. I believed everything was a choice – like to the point of crazy. I thought having cancer was somewhat of a choice. I don't know where this notion started, but I think it came from feeling worthless and helpless and diet culture. I was one of those free will libertarians (not exactly related to the political libertarian, though kinda), and I was not willing at that point to accept the evidence that I wasn't the 100% master of every single one of my feelings and thoughts. I wasn't willing to accept that I was made of chemicals and atoms just like the outside world, or that I was a victim. This was a defense mechanism I realize now against feeling weak. I know some people say it's easier to blame someone else than to blame yourself, but sometimes the opposite is the case.

In any case, it was ignorance and homophobia that indirectly affected my assessment of human sexuality, and I didn't realize that this belief not only stemmed from homophobia I had been subjected to, it also delegitimized the relationships of people with different orientations so they couldn't get married or be seen or treated decently. In any case, it is embarrassing to think back on, and very hard to imagine having the will or want to argue such a point.

Honestly, too, I have to say at this time things were kind of spiraling out of control for me. I wasn't getting much sleep. I was fighting with Sarah worse than ever. I felt like there were two Sarahs, and two mes. My ego would become huge, and then it would burst and I would feel psychotically alone. I felt Sarah was against me, betraying me, and ultimately abandoning me, and then I would find her to be one of the best people I had ever known, someone I could trust more than anyone. Reality was very wobbly, and it was scarier for me than I even realized. I felt like at any moment I was going to eventually break completely, or the world around me was going to and I was going to find out that everything I had ever known was some kind of lie. I was even back on forth on wondering if I was somehow being followed by people. Mental illness is a bitch. Fortunately, I was getting a great education. I learned about Rome, the dark ages, Charlemagne, and then I learned about the industrial revolution, WW2, and how the world changed since then. It was one of the few productive sane things I could do. We learned about history of the Cold War, how that brought on the Korean War, Vietnam into the present war that was in Iraq. My eyes were opened, and I was actually able to articulate something that was very wrong with the United States. I no longer said I hated it in the US because I wished I was in some more interesting setting. I actually found myself caring deeply about the truth in the media, corruption in politics, ending war, and creating a better world. I had to thank Mike for that. This knowledge gave me the foundation to continue learning about the world and at least have a grasp of any intelligent conversation I have ever been privy to having.

Then I ended up in an art class that didn't go too well. Mike and Jenni honestly hired an art teacher in hopes to keep Sarah and I in school. I feel really badly they did this – since it didn't end up helping anyone. I don't remember her name, but she was young – didn't draw or paint, and seemed to think that she knew what was art and what wasn't.  I instantly resented her – though I tried to be quiet at first. After she gave us assignments, she would walk around and insult elements of our work. She didn't really understand the creative process, and she only had any respect for realism. One girl was painting a dream she had had the night before. She was told her paintings was 'wrong'. Why? Because it didn't go with the things that this woman had learned in school about how to compose a painting. She didn't understand the relaxed attitude of the school, and she snapped at a girl with anxiety issues for bringing in her blanket – which was a form of comfort for the girl and the school allowed her to have it in class. She especially didn't like Kat.

As you can imagine, people ended up getting very upset in this class, to the point where we were all struggling to function. I mostly stayed quiet, as the other girls fought. She ended up telling us all that we were all self centered millennials, and explained that technology had made us complacent self centered noncreatives. It was very insulting, and in order to satisfy herself on this matter, she made our next project be that we draw a Rolling Stones Magazine with ourselves as the front cover, and then write an article about how cool we were. I didn't like this at all. It was just meant to make us into jokes for herself I think. Plus, I had a lot of body issues as the time. I was gaining a lot of the weight I had lost that summer back. Stress was causing me to be greasy. My eyes hurt from crying. I didn't feel like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine, so I opted out of the project.

From that point on, I was very frustrated by her, and really felt she might have been the most annoying person I had ever met. She made us fill out a paper at some point later on in the course where she wanted us to explain what our strengths and weaknesses were. She asked us to explain what made this class she was teaching the most difficult. I had to be honest. I wrote ' YOU', in response to what the biggest challenge was. I couldn't help it. I couldn't stand her – and I didn't think she was a nice person. Sarah bit her lip and was a bit shocked when I turned it in. I truly felt it was people like her that ruined art for others. I know there is a lot of inspiration to be had in art school, there are definitely skills that I could learn from, other creative minds I could meet. But there is nothing more frustrating and ugly to me than someone who goes to get a degree in the arts so they can put down those who make folky art at home, or make students feel badly. I didn't think a degree could give you what was most essential, which is something that has to be felt and meant. A degree couldn't really give your work integrity. You could not rely on logic to create it – there are people all over the world who don't really think about color codes and techniques. They see something or feel it and they express it, and that will always what gives art it's essential purpose. In essence I felt she killed art, and used her degree to make people feel like they weren't any good. I was opposed to her message entirely.

Later that day, Mike called me aside to talk to me. He looked concerned. I was a bit shocked when I found out that reading what I had written sent her over the edge into a sobbing mess. Mike essentially told me she melted and felt like she was a complete failure as a person. I felt badly, but I held my ground. I had to remind myself that life wasn't fair and she had stepped on my toes and that's what happens. I asserted myself, but deep down – I still felt bad. And Mike told me as politely as he could that it was very mean of me. He said something along the lines of  'look Renee, you're better than this'. I swallowed my apologetic tendencies, looked at him coldly and explained that it was appropriate for me to maintain a sense of self worth to not let people like her insult and harass me or others around me, and that I felt that she was very condescending.

In private though, I still couldn't shake the fact that I still felt very bad. I had truly made her feel terrible about herself. I had this clear imagine of her sobbing while driving in the rain all the way home, finding her husband distant and disinterested in comforting her, seeing herself go to the bathroom and look resentfully at her own reflection, and crying alone on her bed till she passed out from exhaustion curled up in a small sad ball of self loathing. I am sure I am overreacting in my imagination on those details, but it still seemed to stick – we don't realize how often little things can ruin another's day. It was too late for me to say sorry though. I tried to think of myself like a force of nature rather than an asshole. Like a hurricane. She merely threw herself into something she couldn't stand up to. But in a sense this almost frustrated me more. Why should I have to keep my mouth shut, rather than speak my mind? It frustrated me that Mike almost seemed to take her side over mine. I had spent most of my life being a church mouse to teachers, parents and the like. It hadn't been till about that year and a half or so that I had finally started to grow something like a backbone – and it had only come after I had become so sickly depressed that some level was reached and I grew. I hadn't really wanted to make her feel that badly, but I had been tiptoeing around people my entire life and having to feel guilty about how I made everyone feel all the time was not healthy for me. There had to be a point in life where I could open up about my ideals and act out on my true character.

What I realize now that I did not realize then was that it is possible to criticize the ideas and actions without criticizing the person, and I more or less understand that saying that she herself, a single individual with feelings and hopes and dreams, a person who had lived an entire life, with insecurities, and passions, to just take a cold arrow and strike her dead as the culprit of everything bad was unfair. True, I didn't agree with her methods and I found her to be semi insulting to us all. But it wasn't right to make her feel like 'she' herself was somehow worthless to us. I could have actually made my point even clearer and maybe even more cutting in the way I had wanted to be if I had attacked her ideas rather than her as a person. Because it's true that she was pushing her limits and abusing her power, but I was better than that, Mike was probably right about that – I just wasn't good with communicating in some ways. It seemed that even though I was much more mature than people my age, when I tried to communicate, it was incorrect somehow.

But I guess, back in those times, I was young and naive and understandably angry and I felt I was at war all the time. It's easy to become hardened when everything about you for years on end seemed to be taken away. I had just learned to finally accept that might made right. I half felt that whoever knocked down their enemies the hardest was the winner – though academically I was beginning to question it. And honestly, it never occurred to me that a student could hurt a teacher's feelings like that. I didn't even think that an adult could have their feelings hurt by me. I had generally always maneuvered through life as though I did not matter.

I think this was a turning point for me when the things of that year began unraveling. Well, on looking back, things had begun a great unraveling at the age of ten, but there had always been some pull back. I truly started losing ground. I ended up more furious with Sarah than I ever had been yet. It was still very much winter, and she had been dating Alex for a few months by this point – if only online. There seemed to be some vague plans underway for him to come up to Idaho to meet her in person for the first time,  though very little of it was expressed to me clearly. Sarah just wasn't telling me things anymore, and she didn't seem to care that much if I was angry.

In February or March, there was this skater kid that was our age who went to our school named Geoff who started hanging out with Sarah a lot. He was pretty nice, overall, though we never really talked. I was so unhappy by this point thatI was only known to do my school work or look psychotically angry but never saying anything. I barely registered him honestly. He really wanted to be Sarah's friend, and I could tell he sort of liked her, as it was looking like outside of Kendrick, a lot of guys really liked Sarah. This made me feel really excluded. If he wanted to hang out at break, then I was becoming the ugly third wheel. Not to mention, Sarah didn't tell him she had a boyfriend. They were touching each other a lot, giving each other massages in class, wearing one another's clothes and just fishy body language in general. I felt there was something very dishonest and inappropriate about their friendship. And Sarah would now sit by Geoff instead of me – since I was now an incredible bummer, who might have been slightly jealous of Sarah's power to simply be liked by people. I don't think Sarah was trying to hurt me. She just didn't want to deal with me anymore, and Geoff was fun. Somewhere in her mind, I knew she knew it was somewhat wrong, but she had never been liked before. And maybe I didn't fully know or acknowledge who Sarah really was, and perhaps she really didn't know either. I expected way too much from her.

This evolved and stirred silently in my thoughts, and it triggered me to believing she hated me. I felt she was phony. And perhaps I was onto something. I still feel that she was being dishonest, for what it's worth now (twelve and a half long years later). And she really was sort of done with me. She had found something better. She had stopped really fighting with me. When she started to date Alex, she just looked at me blankly. It confused me, and I felt betrayed and abandoned. And the world got even shakier. I saw no worth in myself and had this strong feeling I was going to lose everything I had. I was torn into some kind of manic rage.. It got to the point to where, in class, I felt myself getting so mad that I was about to be sick. I was shaking. And eventually, I just stopped talking to her for days. I still got rides from her, those rides were just awkward. At times, I felt this tinge of sadness in my fury – mostly I could tell that it was hurting her feelings. Somehow, she wasn't able to see in any way why I was upset. And this upset me. I wanted her to be able to read the situation – or at least instinctively understand why I was upset without having to tell her – and I was also tired of her trying to fix it just to make me feel better. Like, I wanted to trust her – but at the time, I felt like I no longer could. I wanted to push away from her – to see if I could. I resented that I relied on her so heavily for my own sense of self worth.

There was a snow storm during this time one day. It was coming down so much that it was hard for me to even stay mad sometimes – as the road home was completely covered in snow and we couldn't see where the road ended and a field began. It was getting to be well over a foot. The snow was flinging so fast everywhere that it hurt my eyes and looked like an optical illusion all around us. And it took us two and a half hours to drive back to Kendrick in what normally took us twenty five minutes. I managed not to look at Sarah or talk to her, and I could tell she was frustrated and hurt, but she did have to drive. I remember I had a mix cd playing, and it seemed like Patti Smith's 'Horses' was playing for eternity. I didn't know how to feel about Patti Smith, but I always strongly associate that song with that storm and that feeling. I felt like I was disappearing.

We must have made up after that day, at some point, but it stuck in my mind, and in Sarah's mind, even though she has an awful memory. I feel like something in our friendship kind of broke or shifted – became too tired for either of us to carry on our backs. I can't say it was either of our faults, but the situation in the backdrop of the storm changed things somehow. I still was very much unhappy, but I just poured myself deeper into school work.

I had to quit fiction writing class. I felt like a failure – having to step back from doing all these projects on moral or psychological grounds, and I knew it wouldn't get me to where I needed to be, but I could not physically will myself to write fiction. I stared at the computer screen and couldn't think of anything. It didn't really help that I was in a computer class with a bunch of people. I didn't have any ideas that I truly wanted to put out there. And if I had felt the drive and the story in me somewhere, I definitely could not have written anything on a teacher's time frame. If I had wanted to write stories, there never would come a time during school that I felt comfortable or like I had anything to say – particularly at this point in my life. My heart was racing all the time, my head filled with notions of being worthless. There was no way I could calm down enough to write anything. Though I don't write fiction now either, I know that when you write, you have to be able to have an open and honest dialogue that is free of criticism. It has an element of zen to it, that I had not yet really gotten a grasp of.  As far as I knew, I would be this way for the rest of my life.

Mike wanted us to all take our turns reading what we had written out loud to one another. He had us read something we had written based on a story he passed around to start us off and get us comfortable with public reading on one of the first days – then, in order to improve our public speaking skills he filmed us on an old tape recorder and took us in the office to watch it. I decided to try, even though I was certain to fail. I went up there, and I don't remember what happened, but I got nervous at some point and acted out very strangely. Most of the other students didn't have the kind of problem I had. Eventually it was my turn. I felt panic, anxiety and a strange anger I had nobody to place it on. I could barely think. I guess what I felt most was a dark festering sense of shame.

When Mike turned on the little television, I instantly became so uncomfortable with the sight of myself at the podium that I put my hands on my face and curled into a ball. Mike got weirdly frustrated by my reaction and told me to put my hands down and watch. I listened only because of the forceful nature of the command. But honestly seeing myself talking to a crowd made me sick to my stomach. I couldn't even be critical of my performance. It was a punch in the stomach. I know this sounds weird, but it was one of the worst feelings I had ever had. Having to actually see who I was externally – what people saw when they saw me rather than how I saw myself privately was immensely painful. I realize nobody likes the sound of their own voice when they hear it. People don't like most of the pictures that are taken of them. But the average level of disdain most people have for their own reflections paled compared to how I felt about seeing myself at the podium. I kept trying to look at the screen but flinching at how hideous and embarrassing I sounded. All I could see was ugliness, fat, a horrible speaking voice – I felt like a toad. The big talk I did privately was all a front. Because underneath my ego, I was still small and worthless, and having an ego only makes you look worse. I didn't have anything to say to an audience, nothing to contribute to the world. I was not inspired – my ego had grown to a point where asserting my dominance was just a way to mask who I was. I was not close to David Bowie, I was not an artist. I wasn't smart. It really was a mindfuck moment for me. It occurred to me that I might not actually even have a self. I felt like was falling in the chair I was sitting. I panicked and I covered my eyes, and despite how awkward the small office room was, I started crying.

I think Mike tried to talk to me in a chill manner – but seemed tense and sort of baffled and annoyed. And my reaction to feeling that much shame all at once was to sort of lash out rudely at him, and cover up. If I could have explained this, it might have helped, but there were no words to describe it. When I gathered my thoughts, I explained that I was leaving the class and would never put myself through that again. There was no question of that. I was sorry I had even tried. It was a mistake. I felt like I a loser but there was no way at this point that I could live my life and do public speaking. And I think me just backing away that suddenly made Mike feel like a failure of a teacher. So in turn, he became disappointed with me, and that disappointment translated into frustration. This really was more or less what set off the beginning of the end. He was fed up with me.

There was no other class that had room for me going on at that period. They wouldn't let me take economics with Sarah. Technically, with no class to be taking, I wasn't really even supposed to be there. I sat and listened to the stories the other students wrote instead. They weren't great writers, but they wrote with an ere of confidence that somehow I wasn't blessed with. Samantha's boyfriend Adam was taking this class in the alternative school for some reason. He excitedly wrote a short story that was clearly inspired by the beginning of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It involved kitchen appliances all over the planet coming to life and having epic battles in the sky. It was written with glorious detail, metaphors. The appliances almost took on new life as they battled gallantly in the heavens in some kind of cosmic dance of absurdity. Spatulas stampeded waffle makers. Spoons banged on pots for war drums. The story made me laugh. He read it with a sort of Weird Al Yankovic like glee. Other girls wrote almost autobiographically about their abusive fathers at home. Everyone seemed to have courage that I didn't have.

Eventually I was called into the office, where Mike and Jenni sat down and talked with me. Mike I think was trying to let me know that he knew I was very capable of writing fiction. He told me he thought that my fiction, if I chose to write it, would be better than everyone else's. He was trying to help me. Perhaps he meant what he said. It managed to disappoint me though. Mostly, it caused me to see Mike as a liar, since he congratulated all the students for their writing and told them all he felt they had a lot of promise. Now talking to me, he almost seemed to look down on their writing, or at least that was my interpretation. So I felt like he was a liar. It angered me that he seemed to like Adam's story when he talked to Adam, but he used Adam's story as an example of bad writing when he talked to me privately.

It was at this point that I chose to call him a liar. He was very confused, and asked me to explain what he had done wrong. I wouldn't tell him for some reason – instead choosing to hold it in my deck. Mike, who I think generally tries to be as truthful as he could – almost to the point of neurosis perhaps, was suddenly made pretty upset by this. I think it hurt his feelings. He told me he didn't appreciate being called a liar without an explanation and there was an edge now in his voice. I  In my mind, by expressing why I was upset, I felt that I was giving people the upper hand against me – which I realize now was pretty strange and sad. We are all the masters of hindsight. Instead of calling him a liar, I could have delicately explained why he had lost me. Honestly, I think he did like Adam's story too. He was just mustering everything he could think of to get me to feel good about myself enough to stay in his class. He was attempting to connect with me – and I wasn't having it. He looked at Jenni with a facial expression that said 'See what I mean?' and he left the room. Jenni was flustered. Nothing got said.

When I sat down at the desk the next day, Mike angrily and coldly told me I was no longer a part of that class and he didn't want me in there. So I sat in the computer lab instead – since it was the only place where a class wasn't going on. I think Mike was afraid I was going to get under his skin and he would yell at me – something he seldom did. He was trying to save us both the trouble. Looking back, he must have cared an awful lot about my education to be so unhappy with me. It's the only explanation that makes sense to me. I didn't have any more work on the computer to do, so I instead decided to play Meerca Chase on neopets and check my new MySpace page that Sarah had helped me make – though I didn't quite understand it yet. Mike saw me doing this, and he tried to kick me out of the building. But outside was twenty degrees with windchill, and I didn't own a coat, only two flannels that I wore over top one another. I never had any spending money at all – so I couldn't go and drink coffee. I didn't want to freeze. I tried to explain this to him, and he rolled his eyes at me and told me I needed to talk to Jenni about it, furiously. I sort of shrunk, but what could I say?

I didn't see Jenni the next day or the next. He came into the computer lab, and he kicked me out again. I looked outside, and I knew I couldn't be out there in the cold. I was really confused at this point, and I asked him where I should be. He raised his voice at me and said 'That's Not My Problem Renee!' and walked away. So I left that room. Apparently, I couldn't be in the computer lab, outside, in any classroom, office or kitchen, so instead I just sort of sat by the wall next to the kitchen. I was extremely nervous. Mike finally hated me - officially. He didn't want to see me around at all, he couldn't even be civil.

Eventually, Mike came up to me and said that he had set me up to have another appointment with Jenni – in a very exasperated manner. I would have gladly done it myself, as I was incredibly nervous, but I really had not seen her and didn't have any way of contacting her. To her credit, Jenni seemed to understand that Mike was being a little weird about me not being able to sit anywhere. She was very soft when she talked to me. I told her I was getting kind of afraid that I was going to piss Mike off even worse. She told me she would talk him down. I thanked her. She looked around online and found a nursing online course I could take for half a college credit. I happily accepted it. Anything to have something to be doing – though I knew too well that I saw no future in medicine for myself. She asked me why Sarah and I weren't talking much anymore – which I denied. It was too personal for me, and I myself didn't really understand it. In a lowkey way, she kind of told me that she didn't think Sarah was a very good friend. I didn't ever get her reasons – and to this day I never knew what those reasons were. I have troubles imagining she could take sides with my crazy feelings over Sarah's humble logical humorous nature.

She started asking me some questions. They were kind of personal, though I don't remember what they were. She was distant in her approach, and she seemed confused by my answers. I asked her why she was asking me those questions. I was honestly very curious as to what she was getting at. Eventually, she kind of told me some things. One, Mike was partially upset with me because he didn't know what to do with me as a person, or who he was dealing with. I was a very unusual student, according to her and Mike, perhaps one of the most confusing students they had ever had. Mike had explained to Jenni, and Jenni had noticed it too that my personality was extremely complex. She didn't want me to take this the wrong way, but out of the hundreds of kids that Mike and Jenni had worked with, I was one of the strangest. Apparently, I was deeply layered. Mike had a way of getting people to shed their layers of self and most people have a few, but with me, there was only more and more layers. He would think he was making progress with me, but only coming to find that it was just another fake personality he was dealing with. The only explanation that Jenni and Mike could find for it, was that I was deeply deeply broken – so broken that I couldn't even reflect on it. Though other students that came to the school had problems, they often got upset, screamed and cried where I stayed pretty calm most of the time outwardly at least – I was actually doing very poorly.

She said she saw a lot of signs of severe trauma in my behaviors. I rocked back and forth. I seemed to switch to different people. To be honest, I didn't see that in myself, but I know they had education on how to read people, and I think they must have been on to something. As for rocking back and forth, it's something I started doing when I was a toddler. I told her I had had some abuse, but nothing extreme. I was nobody's sex slave. I'd never had anyone break my bones. So many of the people I knew in my life had worse suffering than me. I was rather confused. Essentially, Mike didn't feel like there was anything else he could do to help me. I was beyond either one of them helping me. Honestly, I didn't know if I believed what they had told me – but it really lingered in my thoughts. In any case, I wasn't going to be getting any therapy. My father would never  have allowed me to see a therapist, and I wasn't going to be insured for much longer, seeing that eighteen was just a year and a half away.

Honestly, I don't know if they should even have told me this. It scared me. Because it rang true, even though the notion was also very distant to me. I didn't feel like I had that many layers for one. I felt like I was somewhat consistent. Sarah thought I was consistent. I realized that there might be things going on with me that I was not aware of. I mulled this information over with Sarah later on, but she wasn't that interested. It was also starting to dawn on me that all of the fighting had been pointless. If Sarah didn't care about something, than she didn't care. I became somewhat reflective of myself and my own insecurities, and perhaps jealousies of Sarah. I had also come to see it as some kind of unhealthy catharsis for me to get really upset – and maybe I was at fault for that. And Sarah wasn't going to change – and the change I wanted to see was the kind of change that happens with wisdom. I could not force Sarah to be wise if she wasn't wise. Since she had a boyfriend now, and that was her world.

In any case, Mike left me alone after that. Jenni must have told him to give me space. After being told something like that, it felt weird leaving the office with just a nursing class to look forward to. What could I even do about what she had told me? How could I trust myself? I was beginning to feel very much on my own.

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[aftertheabuseblog]

Understanding and Denial

Understanding and Denial

My schoolwork was suffering, nothing I did seemed to make the slightest difference in the downturn of my life. My self worth was… let's be honest, I didn't have any right then. Seemingly confirming my lack of worth my parents wrote my teacher that they wanted her to fail me so I would have to repeat grade 7 and do better. Let's go back a year…

I was staying the night at my friends, Joel and Bryce's house when puberty hit, I was so embarrassed. I was 11, almost 12. I thought something was wrong with my body, I had no clue what was happening, this felt too similar to the abuse. My parents wouldn't have “the talk” with me for almost another year. I felt dirty. I couldn't tell my friends or their parents what happened. So I went to the washroom, cleaned myself up and went back to bed.

A couple weeks later we went to the hot springs together where I was called a f*g for the first time, by a stranger, another reason to feel bad about myself. Upon returning home from that trip I began to really question my worth.

TRIGGER WARNING

Shortly after I turned 12, I was staying the weekend out at Joel and Bryce's place again and we set off on our usual exploration of what was flammable on the farm and what common rocks will produce a spark when struck together. That night I was sleeping in Bryce's bed with him and I wanted to let him know how much I enjoyed spending time with him and his brother, something I had learned how to do the wrong way from an adult family friend, let's call him Darren (he molested and sexually abused me from the age of 9-10). Bryce and I were both laying there in our underwear and I started scratching his back lightly and slowly worked my way down to his butt and then started rubbing, as Darren had taught me. I definitely wasn't going to reach around and grab his penis like Darren had with me since that made me feel dirty and I didn't want Bryce to feel dirty. So I kept gently massaging and rubbing his butt. “He’s rubbing my butt,” Bryce announced to Joel who was in the next bed.

“That's wrong. I’m telling my mom and dad.” Wrong?! It was wrong to rub a friends butt? I desperately pleaded with him not to tell his parents and explained that I thought I was doing something good. Yes I knew touching someone else's penis was wrong but I didn't know that touching a butt was wrong. I promised now that I knew I would never do it again. Bryce said that it made him feel dirty. I was humiliated, that was the opposite of what I wanted. I apologized profusely and they both agreed to not say anything to their parents. That was the last time I spent the night at their place or they stayed at mine. We barely talked after that night. It seemed something was wrong with me. I had wanted to show a symbol of close friendship, and ended up alienating my 2 closest friends, and I didn't have many of those. My remaining trust in myself was now gone too.

Soon it was time for “The Talk.” My mom sat my sister and I both down at the dining room table at the same time and handed us a pamphlet, or magazine, and told us to read it. I couldn't focus on the words. We weren't allowed to take it to our rooms and I was too self conscious to read this in front of my mom and sister, so I skimmed it, pretended to read it and said I understood. Since my parents wouldn't allow us to take sex ed at school, this was the piss poor substitute and I learned nothing. One of my friends at school had already had the talk and filled me in, and although he got some of the details wrong, I picked up enough to fill in the blanks from the pamphlet I skimmed. Turns out in a way I did get sex ed at school, previous personal experience not withstanding.

Soon my voice began to change and I would lament the loss of my high range. Secretly I love to sing, I loooove to sing. When I was absolutely sure no one was around, I would explore my vocal range. When others were around, I would intentionally throw my voice out of tune. This was for me and me alone. The notes I could hit and sustain would thrill me. Post puberty, I fell flat, vocally and emotionally. I always wanted to sing the part of the princess lamenting the absence of a prince in her life. Puberty robbed me of that dream, I would never get that range back. Or so I thought. A couple of years ago I found a YouTube channel done by Nick Pitera, a full grown male with an amazing vocal range. I thought it was a lady that he was lip syncing, but no it was his own voice. He has and amazing low, middle and high end. Some call him the most versatile voice on YouTube. Recently I have been working on extending my high range while staying in key, my neighbours must love me, and found that my low range has extended as a result as well. I can almost sing the highest notes in Part of You World from The Little Mermaid in key. Don't know if I'm ready to share my voice with the world yet, I've tried recording it but I get nervous and my throat constricts throwing me off key and out of pitch. My cat seems to really like it when I sing to her though.

After learning about the birds and the bees, some of what I had locked away came back to me in a new light. It wasn't just bad times, it was bad sexually. I told myself, I must have done something wrong for this to happen. No, no! It didn't happen. I'm imagining it. How I wished that were the case. So I tried my best to go into deep denial. Despite my best effort, some of it was always there. Like a loud song in the background, it was always there. School didn't matter, it seemed so finite an issue. What difference would it make if I did my homework or not, my life would still suck.

Soon after the denial began, I again started having more frequently the same nightmares I had when I was 7. Then I had my first hallucination, at least the first one I can recall. I was in my room wearing my sweatpants and sat on my bed without checking to see if there was anything there first. I don't remember what I sat on but it poked into my butt crack far enough to trigger that “electric” sensation. Immediately before me appeared the dark smokey visage of Dark Man from my nightmares, now in my waking life. I let out a blood curdling scream, my voice had not changed completely yet, and ran into my moms room in an adrenaline fuelled terror. I collapsed shaking on the ground before her, grasping tightly onto her legs. I told her there was a shadow man coming through my window. Since my window was at least 25 feet off of the ground she immediately dismissed it. Over the next few years I would have anxiety related chest pains, insomnia, and “freak out” moments all of which I reported to my mother. Recently I asked my mother why they never sought to get any professional help for me and her response was, “I didn't know, there were no signs.” No signs my ass.

Soon after puberty, I started having what I now know are ocular migraines, my mom dismissed them as “Your eyes are getting fuzzy because you're growing too fast.” I tried to impress upon her that no other kids that I had asked were experiencing anything like it but, not once did she take me to the doctor or optometrist to address this. Any medical problems that didn't have immediate visual signs that my sister and I had, it was “all in our heads, don't come to me for sympathy.” When she had anything minor medically, the world was going to end.

So I was left to deal with this growing anxiety that soon led to sleepless nights, which added to my second hallucination. My friend Tony was spending the night, I found that since the deep denial began, I had trouble falling asleep when there was someone else in the room. So I started counting his breathing while watching his chest rise and fall in the faint light, 80… 200, my mind began to wander to the bad memories. I was remembering being at the bottom of those stairs and suddenly Dark Man was standing over top of Tony, looking down at him with glowing red eyes. Slowly the glowing red eyes turned to look at me, piercing me, driving terror into my soul. I couldn't speak, I pulled the covers over my head as I started silently crying. I would not be sleeping that night. In the morning I told Tony about what I saw and he insisted that I must have been asleep and had a nightmare. But I knew I had been awake, lucid dreaming had taught me how to tell the difference between dreaming and reality and I was always, “checking my reality” (see chapter Year of Hell).

Those are the only 2 sustained hallucinations that I can recall I had when I was young. At the age of 9, I started having fleeting shadow hallucinations. Out of the corner of my eye I would see a shadowy human shaped figure, and then it would be gone as quickly as it was there. One day the shadowy figure appeared very close to me and in a moment of fright I lost control of my bladder. Looking for help, I told my mom that I had just wet my pants. Without asking if something had scared me or if something was wrong she automatically assumed that I had been disgusting and/or lazy and wet my pants. She grabbed me, stripped off my pants and underwear along with any remaining dignity. While verbally berating me she said, “If you're going to wet your pants like a baby, then I'll treat you like a baby!” and grabbed a towel which she pinned on me like a diaper. I had to wear it for the afternoon so that I could “learn my lesson.” Having my dignity stripped away once again was very traumatizing. I was supposed to be safe and be able to get help when needed. It seemed to me that my mom was more concerned about how having a son who wet his pants seemed to reflect on her than what might be potentially wrong with me. It's only upon reflection now that I realize that all these incidents happened when dad was either at work or out of town, never when he was home. Whenever I wet myself after that, I would take off my pants and underwear and rinse them out in the laundry room sink. Sometimes I would force myself to keep wearing the soiled underwear underneath fresh pants as a self punishment for my perceived failure of self.

With belief in myself at an all time low I stopped doing my homework, or if I did it I would often cheat. I became a chronic liar, after all, if no one was going to believe me when I was speaking the truth why should I bother telling it. To add to the pile, my grade 7 teacher didn't like me and would pick on me. I used to get hiccups all the time when I was younger, especially during times of heightened anxiety. She gave me detention because I had the hiccups. One day I had forgotten my day planner at home, and she told me I had to walk home to go get it. Keep in mind it was the middle of winter and I didn't have my snow pants that day. It was -20 F with the wind and it wasn't a short walk. When I got home there was no one there and my legs were starting to loose all feeling and I was feeling sluggish, having frozen my ankles the previous year, I knew this was bad. A couple of blocks away were some family friends, so I went there. Patricia, the mom of the family answered the door and immediately pulled me inside. After demanding an explanation for what I was doing walking around improperly dressed in this weather and listening to my explanation, her face went red with anger. She made me a hot chocolate, and drove me back to the school where I waited in the car. She went into my classroom and balled the teacher out in front of my class for telling a student to walk home for something as petty as a day planner, let alone when it was this cold out. My classmates told me about it, I kinda wish I'd been there to see it. She later got another talking to by my parents when they found out. She was a little nicer to me after that.

Toward the midpoint of the school year, I had been hanging out during lunch and recess with another boy who had some mental development issues, but he was always trying his best. In fact I was jealous of him because they had worked out an incentive program to help him complete his school work. If he handed major assignments in on time, he got a dollar from his mom, if it was late but complete, 50 cents. It seemed to work for him. One day after lunch our teacher was waiting at the doors nearest our classroom making sure everyone was coming in. Upon seeing me coming in alone, she said “Good to see you're not with your tardy friend.” I know tardy means late, but from her tone it was clear she meant the other similar sounding derogatory word, especially since he wasn't late. Some people just shouldn't be teachers.

As the school year wound down my report card came in, it was a pass, but barely. When you ask a kid if there's anything wrong, chances are the answer will be ‘no’, even when there is a problem. Sometimes the child simply doesn't have the vocabulary or understanding yet to describe what's wrong. You have to look at the child's actions and moods. Had my parents relied on that they would have seen I was at the beginning of a spiralling depression. But they didn't. Having decided that my bad grades were simply the result of me just not trying hard enough, they wrote my teacher a letter telling her they wanted me to be held back and repeat grade 7. It seemed my lack of belief in myself was justified. In a rare move of compassion, my teacher told me she didn't support the idea and thought that I would feel much better and do much better in a system like high school. So the money I tucked under the envelope was enough to sway her. Just kidding, she kept my passing grade without being bribed.

So it would seem that if I had a problem at home I would have to learn to deal with it myself. When presented with a situation at age where I could possibly end my life and it would look like an accident, I took it...

(More on that in tomorrow's post)

#After The Abuse #csa survivor

[theartofalf]

For Michelle

Usually people expect horrors to come out at night. They expect them to wait in dark, unlit places patiently biding their time until they can creep from their isolated planes of existence with the speed and grace of night.

Not all horrors work that way. Some of the most evil things in the world walk in the daylight.

One of things I have always loved about Las Vegas is that time seems to cease to exist once you walk inside a casino. It’s done that way on purpose of course. There are no clocks on any of the walls, dim lights are strategically placed everywhere to give the constant feel of a summer evening, fresh air is pumped in to make a person stay awake just a little longer than they normally would, and the outside is world is purposefully cut off with the intent of keeping the gamblers from ever leaving the relative comfort and safety of the casino. They are lured to stay there for hours, days, even weeks on end … as long as they have the money, this life can go on forever. Or at least that is the dream they are selling.

Once they do finally retire to a room for the night, that’s when I am usually called in to continue the fantasy. Well, at least by those who have an incredible amount of money, and don’t mind paying for the best.

Tonight though, the meter isn’t running. I’ve taken a few “personal” days off, even though I haven’t left the city. I am on my own mission for once.

A few nights ago one of my girls never came home after going out on a call. She was a beautiful young thing straight from out of the farmlands of Idaho. Blond hair down to her ass, athletic legs a mile long and a smile that most guys would die for to have turned their way … or kill for. For the past several months she had been getting paid nearly as much as I do. Something I’m not jealous of, because I found her and I trained her in all the tricks that would insure that men found her irresistible. I was her mentor. Her mother. Her lover.

A few days later they found her body out in the desert, half-buried in the filthy dirt and some sagebrush thrown over the top of her. Animals had their way with her and shredded every piece of that beautiful skin so bad it had taken dental records to identify her. It wasn’t those animals I was concerned with though. It was the two-legged ones that put her there that I vowed to make pay.

The cops had investigated the “John” that had hired her for the evening, but nothing could be proven against him. His tracks were pretty well covered. That’s what happens when you have enough money in Vegas. Not only do the casinos help you cover your tracks, but so does the casino-owned police force.

I had spent the last week fully investigating his background, even having to resort to some of my own “special skills” to obtain information. Not that the clerk minded. I got what I wanted and he got what he had always dreamed about, and would probably continue to dream about for many nights to come.

The “John” was Trevor Hannity, a 28-year-old trust-fund baby from Upstate New York who had recently graduated from an Ivy-league school where he had been suspected of, but never proved or convicted, in the rape of two coeds. He had also coincidentally been the suspect in several other investigations ranging from his hometown clear down the East Coast.

Seems like the heat got too hot for him on the eastern coast and now he not only set his sights on being a western predator, but he seems to have upped his game from rape, to rape and murder. That happens a lot with this kind of person. They can’t seem to sate their desires with something they have already done a dozen times, so they take it to another level. Unfortunately for him he had intruded into my territory and harmed someone that was mine.

I don’t have a problem with predators. No really, I don’t. I am one myself. What I do have a problem with, is when their predatory behavior conflicts with my own livelihood and loves. See, I’m not a call girl for the same reason as others. I have chosen this calling because it best fits my needs of what I am, and keeps the rest of the populace safe from me.

Tonight, Trevor Hannity was going to find out what I was keeping the rest of the world safe from.

He wasn’t hard to find. The fucking cock-sucking bastard thought he was so untouchable that he didn’t even bother to change hotels, or rooms for that matter. He was used to having the best of all things, and in this case that meant he couldn’t have anything less than the suite at MGM Grand’s Skylofts. $25,000 a night meant he could show off his daddy’s fortune while living in the lap of luxury, impressing the other trust-fund babies with how much money he never earned a day in his life.

Also, he would be able to order the best call girls in the city from there and they would come running, much as my little Michelle had.

The police report had indicated that not only was Michelle raped repeatedly, she had been tied up and tortured. Which, honestly was something that she excelled at. She loved being tied up and flogged and used like a dirty little slut, as long as it was agreed upon beforehand and safe words were used. In this case though, I’m pretty certain she screamed her safe word many times before a long cylindrical object was forced down her throat and lodged there, cutting off all her air.

I imagine that she had try to cry out for me as she realized that she was going to die, and that imagining just fueled my anger more. Anger that I had to keep off my face as I approached his door and lightly knocked.

Earlier in the evening I had found out from an acquaintance that a call girl from one of the other firms in town had been hired by Mr. Hannity and she was to show up at his room promptly at Noon. Like I said, evil doesn’t always need the dark of night to cast it’s shadow.

A few phone calls, and some surreptitious money passing accounts, by way of the Cayman Islands, and the girl he had hired was dismissed and I had taken her place. Not that Trevor would ever know. With just a little bit of juice from the girl, I could look enough like her to pass for what was found on her webpage.

I have to admit, my short meeting with her had impressed me. She tasted lovely, and had an incredible essence to her. With just a little of my mentoring she would soon surpass what I had lost with Michelle. But that was for later. Right now there was other business to attend too.

A rather large goon opened the door at my knock, gave me a once over and looked at the goodies in my bag that I had brought with me. There was nothing untoward that he wasn’t expecting in the bag, just the usual canes, whips, floggers, butt plugs, dildos, Magic Wands, cuffs, zip ties, gags, and hoodies. Good thing I had feasted a little earlier, because that damn bag was heavy, and a slight girl like me would normally have had trouble bringing it with me.

While Mr. Too Tall Goon was looking through my bag, I took the opportunity to place a hand on his arm and smiled coyly at him. I’ve been told that my smile is rather captivating, usually by kings, presidents, and despot rulers. He was no different than most men when I turned that gaze on him. He turned to putty in my hands as I led him over to the coat closet and suggested with a slight push of my hand that he step inside. Then I closed the door behind us and placed my mouth over his. He seemed quite willing and didn’t fight until the very end, long after it would have done any good as his dry husk crumbled all over some really expensive shoes and coats. I didn’t feel an iota of remorse for him. He most likely had something to do with Michelle being dumped in the desert, and he deserved a fate far worse than what he got.

Trevor would find out what that fate was though.

Oh damn was I feeling the rush of that goon. That boy may not have had any brains, but he had some serious life force. I could feel his strength coursing through my veins, and for a fleeting second wished I’d kept him around for when I needed a sudden fix. Oh well, such is the life of a succubus. You just never know what you are going to get until you drained them.

Not that I usually needed to drain anyone dry. I only needed small bits of life force to sustain me, hell most people never even noticed the tiny amount I took from them. They may lose a couple of hours of life with how much I could sustain myself on for weeks. So, it’s not like I ever NEEDED to drain anyone. Some people deserved it though. That is the great part of the life I set up for myself in Las Vegas, I constantly had new sources for my feeding and no one got hurt and no one knew any better. Just the way I liked it. I could keep myself young for months off what I had drained from that goon.

Closing the closet door, I brushed myself off, retouched my lipstick, picked up my bag and sauntered into the penthouse suite. Talk about opulence. Over 10,000 sq feet with a hot tub filled with what looked like champagne. I wasn’t impressed. In the millennia I had been alive, I had seen much grander from a certain Sultan in the mid-East. Now talk about insatiable lovers, that man had it in spades. Wish he was still around.

Trevor Hannity was reclining in the champagne-filled hot tub when I walked in, appraising me as I walked across the room, inspecting the merchandise he thought he had paid for. I didn’t mind, I was used to being looked at.

Without being invited, I set down my bag and slipped my shoulders out of my little red dress and let it fall to the ground. I kept my high heels on as I turned away from him and bent far, far over and I placed my dress in the bag. I could feel his hot gaze upon my exposed womanhood. I looked over my shoulder while still bent over and let him know I knew he was watching me, and I liked it. Then I slowly raised up, turned and walked to the hot tub, crossing my legs intentionally as I walked across the room.

No words had been spoken. No words were needed. I was here for a job, and I was expected to perform a certain way. That’s the kind of guy Mr. Hannity was. He had certain expectations in life, and no one had ever denied him his expectations.

I blame his parents.

At the tub I slipped out of my six inch red heels and slid my body into the water across from him. I let my hair fall into the water as I bent over backward, luxuriating in the fizzles of the warm champagne as it caressed my body.

Apparently that’s all it took for Mr. Never Been Denied. He didn’t need anytime at all to get worked up into a frenzy. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me into a straddling position over his youthful cock. One hand quickly grasped my throat really hard as he shoved me down on him, impaling me.

To be honest, it kinda hurt. He was larger than average, which wasn’t a problem, but he had not allowed me any time to warm up and build up any lubricant, on top of which, had I been wet at all, the champagne would have washed it all away. This was all to be expected with a true sadist. He not only didn’t care that it hurt me, he wanted to feel that power as he asserted his dominance over me, and with one move was telling me that HE was the one in control here and he would get what he wanted, whether I wanted it or not.

What no one had ever bothered to inform young Mr. Hannity about, is that in a true dominant/submissive relationship, the submissive holds way more power than the dominant. Not that men like him cared about silly little things like rules. They had never had to abide by them, so why should they now.

Trevor didn’t know that I let some of my power creep out, engulfing his cock as he thrust it into me. Power that just tantalizingly sucked a little of his life force out.

I almost began gagging from that taste drawn in through my pussy. I had never felt something so completely evil and dirty inside of me, and I had the overwhelming urge to get this over quickly, so I could go to the bathroom and purge him out of my system with a large amount of throwing up, followed by hours and hours of hot showers. I covered the retching with a long moan that was sure to make him feel like a real man.

It wasn’t long before he tightly wrapped his fingers in my red hair and forced me off of his manhood, and then pushed my head and face beneath the champagne, forcing me to take him in my mouth, then forcing me down as far as I could go, which, between you and I is a fair bit as I had learned how to control my gag reflex centuries ago. Men throughout time have loved the same thing when it comes to their phallis. They want women to admire them for it, but mostly they want us to gag on it and prove to them what a real man they are. I obliged by faking some gagging, while at the same time slowly draining him.

He let me up for air, in what I am sure, to him, was a gesture of kindness. Not that it was needed. A succubus can stay underwater for hours as long as we have a steady supply of life force. The only person he was hurting by keeping me under was himself. Not that he was going to miss the few hours I stole from him.

“Let’s go see what you brought me to play with,” Trevor spoke as he drug me out of the hot tub by my hair. That actually got me a little wet. I do like a good hair pulling.

Looking over at the bed, I saw that some of my toys weren’t needed as it already had cuffs attached to the four posts. He did seem to take extreme interest in my canes though. Of course.

He forced me to the end of the bed and clamped my wrists in the cuffs at the top, then each of my ankles, and finally a waist belt attached to the footboard of the bed. I was actually impressed by the set up, and wondered if he had convinced the hotel to spring for it, or if he had brought his own bed with him.

“I’d ask what your safe word was, but I don’t care,” he said. “I bought and paid for you, and you are mine.” A sharp crack of a cane punctuated his words. As I opened my mouth to yell, he shoved a a ball gag in and then secured it behind my head.

There was no warm up. There was no caring what I thought. He only cared about the muffled screams he could try to work out of me. Silly boy. I had been worked over by Torquemada himself during the Spanish Inquisition. There was little that this frat boy could do to make me so much as whimper. I think that infuriated him as he kept swinging the cane harder and harder, until it broke across my upper thighs.

He went to the bag and brought out my cat of nine tails with metal balls on the end and proceeded to flog me, which finally got me wet, but still didn’t make me cry out. Grabbing my hair he yanked my head back and ripped the gag out of my mouth.

“I’m gonna make you cry bitch,” he screamed at me.

“I don’t think so little man,” I replied as I caught his gaze in mine and held it. “Now it’s my turn.”

Caught in my spell he had no choice but to untie me, and watch helplessly as I tied him up exactly where I had been, with the exception that his semi-rigid cock was facing me instead of his tight little frat boy ass. Once tied and gagged sufficiently, I let him loose from the spell and really, really enjoyed the confused look on his face as he at first wondered how our places had been switched, then watched it turn to fear as his mind ran through what might happen to him, and finally to anger that he was no longer getting his way, and that he was now at my mercy.

I grabbed his cock hard, wrapping my fist around it and squeezing. “Remember a little blond named Michelle a week ago that you had some fun with?” I asked as I continued to squeeze harder. The confusion returned to his eyes for a second, then his eyes hardened as he realized what this was about. He tried to speak around the gag, but I have no idea what he was trying to say, because I don’t speak gagged evil frat boy trust-fund baby. Maybe I should learn?

I strolled over to my bag and took out a nice long dildo, one that I wouldn’t normally use. One I had, in fact, bought just today, specifically for him. Then I knelt in front of him and wrapped my red lips around the head of his juicy young cock and used one had to slowly rub his balls and pull them out of the way. I know, the cock sucking was unneeded, but hey a girl has to have some fun. Then I placed the head of the rather large dildo (I think it was named “The Hulk”) against his puckering asshole and slowly, ever so slowly began to work it in. Such a shame that there was no lube on it, but then I figured he could appreciate the irony.

“Michelle was a friend of mine,” I told him once the head of the dildo was firmly implanted in his ass. “In fact more than a friend. She was my protege, and my lover.” I could feel his cock stiffen slightly at the thought that quickly ran through his head imagining her and me together. He probably even for a moment regretted killing her … at least before he got to experience the two of us together. That’s the extent of remorse that this kind of filth would have.

“Unfortunately for you, you came into the wrong town. You should have stuck with staying on the east coast,” I told him. “Although, I’m sure there are people there that are never going to miss you.” With one hard shove I placed more than twelve inches of Hulk-girthed dildo up his ass and reveled in the bulging eyes that nearly popped out of his head.

“Normally, I wouldn’t give two shits about a sadist like you. I’ve known many worse than you in my life,” I said, “but in this case you not only fucked with someone I loved, you fucked with my livelihood, and I just can’t abide that.” Just for fun, I twisted the dildo side to side and then left it in as I stood up and walked back over to the bag.

He had rather large nipples for a man, which I appreciated as I attached sharpened roach clips to them. This was a fun little device that I reserved for the truly masochistic clients. Not only did the clips draw blood, but they were hooked up to a tiny little electric taser that looked like a mascara case. A little touch on the bottom of the mascara case produced a little charge that ran though the wires and nipple clamps right into his chest.

Watching him buck and scream was truly joyful and made me more than a little moist. I’d played the bottom for so long, I forgot how much fun being a top could be. I wasn’t easy on him either. I kept it up until I thought he was going to pass out, then gave him a slight reprieve before beginning again.

He was drooling uncontrollably around the ball gag, and his eyes had lost some of their fire and returned to the state of fear. Oh my god that got me horny.

I got the Magic Wand out of my bag and pulled a chair over across from him so he would watch as I pleasured myself. Nothing gets me off quicker than a Magic Wand combined with my own fingers. He had to hang there and helplessly watch as I fucked myself to a very loud, moaning, panting orgasm, and I could see even though he had twelve inches of dildo shoved up his ass, it didn’t affect his ability to get rock hard. Which is what I wanted.

After I finished I didn’t bother to wipe up or clean off, I just stood and dripped across the floor as I approached him. I softly placed my hand on his young throbbing manhood and stroked back and forth, just teasing the head until he was nearly to orgasm, then I took the gag out of his mouth and before he could scream, cry or anything I placed my own mouth over his and slowly, ever so slowly sucked his life force out of him. I could feel the first few dribbles of warm cum on my hand and using both hands I grabbed him around the base of his cock below his balls and I twisted … HARD!

When you know the trick, and have the strength of a succubus who had fully fed earlier, ripping a cock off a body isn’t really that hard. Not that I had done it that often, but once in a while it is needed. This guy needed it.

Peeling my lips from his nearly drained face I whispered in his ear, “This is for Michelle,” as I proceeded to shove the cock down his throat until he could no longer breath.

Then I just stood there and watched as he choked on his own blood and penis. Full fear returned to his eyes as he realized what had just happened, not that it mattered. He had lived a life of preying on others and causing them fear, now it was simply his turn.

He took a while to actually die, I’ll give him that. After which I cleaned up. They never did find the body of him or his goon, but if they had bothered to check one of the vacuums in the maids quarters, they may have found an extra amount of dust that could have been tested and proved to have their DNA. They didn’t though, because this is Vegas baby, and people up and leave all the time without saying goodbye and when the casino stops getting paid, they stop caring.

I walked out into the daylight, no one the wiser that I had ever been here.

Like I said, not all horrors stay in the dark. Some are in the light of day.