desperate stories

hishandscouldntstopshaking  asked:

Can you recommend any softer fluffier stories?

Jamie: New friendships and experiences blossom when Jamie, a young hopeless romantic, bumps into Aiden, a socially inept pretty boy (with his own set of problems) in this coming of age story with themes of: Identity, peer pressure, heartbreak, sacrifice and the difficult journey to self acceptance.

Girl⚢friends: The comedic adventures of two sweethearts (and sometimes their friends).

100 Ways: Kris Kennedy is a transgirl who just got her first job at a Feng Shui shop nearby. She then grows a small crush on a current co-worker, Jay. So she waits 100 days to confess that she is transgender to Jay, hopefully he’ll accept her for who she is.

This is Not Fiction: A story about desperation in love–or something like that. Julian Drees is experiencing his first love with the extremely popular, dreamy, wonderful, yet completely anonymous romance novelist Sydney Morgan. In an effort to make Julian’s life easier, his best friend Isaiah Holloway hires the strangely-all-knowing class troublemaker (and self-proclaimed “Godfather of High School”) Landon Addison to help them find the true identity of Sydney Morgan. Unfortunately, the hired “help” is more the hired “complete-opposite-of-help”… but maybe all the trouble is worth it to meet the author of Julian’s dreams.

Dear Boy: “We learn love differently. So in turn, we give it differently”. Or so they say. Follow a group of not-so-human college boys as they whine about their tangled love lives.

Star ★ Bright: Haven’t you ever felt lonely? When you live in the middle of nowhere, away from your friends, wouldn’t you want something to change?
“Wish upon a star and maybe something will.”

Omorashi story

When I was 17 I had a boyfriend named Ian. Ian was very attractive, about 6'3. He had long dark hair that fell over his eyes which were bright green. He was slim, but toned.
He usually held himself together quite well, regardless of the situation. That is until the day in question. Our class had gone on a field trip, about an hour away from school. He was almost late for the bus that was taking us, I could tell he had been running when he say down with me on the bus.
“Where were you?” I asked.
He shifted in his seat, adjusting his skinny jeans.
“I was on my way to the bathroom when I realized I was late.”
He moved around a bit, trying to get comfortable.
“You gonna be okay?” I asked resting a hand on his knee that he was bouncing gently. He smiled.
“ Yeah babe. I’m good. Not like I’m gonna wet myself or anything.” he laughed. But I could tell he wasn’t so sure.
We reached the foreign town that we were visiting for our language class. As soon as we were stopped, Ian jumped up. He quickly went still though and jammed a hand between his thighs. I heard a soft moan escape his parted lips. I grabbed his elbow and led him from the bus. He immediately headed towards the bathrooms but our instructor stopped him.
“Stay with the group please Ian.”
I could see his eyes widen with distress.
“ Please, I just need to use the bathroom. It’s an emergency. I’ll be quick I promise!” he pleaded.
“We’re late. You’ll have to wait until lunch. You’re not a little kid anymore, you can hold it.”
Defeated, he carefully walked back to me.
Not too much later I noticed him fidgeting a lot. The trip was all on foot since it was a small area we were visiting and it was obvious that walking was becoming agonizing for him. Frequently he stopped and hunched over, holding himself. His face was bright red and he was sweating as he struggled to hold back the flood in his bladder.
He took off his belt after a while and asked me to put it in my bag.
“ Too much pressure.” He whimpered for only me to hear.
I grabbed his hand and tried to soothe him.
“ You’re doing so good baby. Not much longer now.”
We stopped in front of the restaurant we were meeting at for lunch and waited for the other group. Ian practically begged to go inside, but the teacher insisted that he wait. Unfortunately for Ian’s poor bladder, the other group was late and he was forced to wait through lunch. We had a reservation to make and the teacher said it would be rude to leave the table.
He sat completely silent at the table, one hand firmly on my knee, the other grasping at his crotch. His whole body was trembling with the effort he was making. He looked at me with tears in his beautiful green eyes, almost begging me for help.
As we got ready to leave, he walked over to the bathrooms only to find them occupied. Since we were already running late, there was no way out instructor was letting him wait until they were free. He would just have to wait until we were home which would be another hour.
He and I walked to the busses and I helped him up the steps. He was clearly at his limit, and I was shocked he could move his legs so far apart without losing it right there.
We took our seat near the back and settled in. He was breathing hard and rocking, changing positions every few moments. I wrapped an arm around him and tried to comfort him.
“It’s alright sweetheart.” I whispered, rubbing his back. He got closer to me and whispered,
“I can’t hold it much longer. Oh God it hurts so much.. I really can’t wait anymore, I’m gonna piss myself.” He began crying and bouncing hopelessly, grabbing at his crotch like a toddler.
He shoved his hand down his pants to get a better grip.
“Help me” he pleaded. I had read somewhere that a man can’t pee and cum at the same time, so I did the only thing I could think to do. I threw my coat over our laps and moved closer to him, then carefully replaced his hand with mine. I could feel wetness where he must have leaked.
I started touching him, making him hard. I got him as close to climax as I could and kept him there. He whimpered and cried into my shoulder the whole time, begging for release. He was able to hold on that way until we got back to the school.
I stood and helped him up. He could hardly walk. His thighs were pressed together so hard his body shook as I led him through the building. Suddenly he froze and a strangled yelp came from his lips. He shoved his hands between his thighs.
“Nononono not right here! Ooohh God.” He buckled forward. I looked down to see a small wet patch forming and I immediately grabbed him, pulling him to and empty hall to prevent any further embarrassment for my poor Ian. He was crying by now and babbling to himself,
“It’s coming out, oh my God I can’t wait anymore. I can’t hold it. I’m sorry”.
I hugged him tight.
“Just let go love. It’s okay now, no one would blame you.”
He gave me a horrified look.
“I can’t!” he squeezed his knees together.
“Can you move?” he shook his head violently as another stream soaked through his jeans.
He sobbed quietly as I held him.
I pulled his hands away and massaged his swollen bladder. He squirmed and danced as he fought the urge to pee. But he quickly lost the battle and a long spurt escaped soaking his thighs and legs making a huge puddle as he finally let go. He moaned loudly as he went, finally able to relieve his aching bladder.
Once he finished he stared at the puddle with tears in his eyes.
“What am I gonna do?”
I went to our shared locker and got his gym shorts for him. He went and cleaned up and I got the janitor. Ian was very embarrassed but luckily no one saw him wet his pants. No one except me, and though I’d never mention it to him, it was something I’ll never forget.

break

Apparently I have an exam of the subject I am most screwed in like least tomorrow, and I missed the two classes with the exam’s subject, so here’s a fic I wrote this afternoon instead of studying.

Contains depression.


His name was Nico di Angelo. He was 19 years old. He was a student at New York University. His dad was called Hades and he had two sisters. He had friends who cared about him (Reyna and Jason, for example). He had a boyfriend. He had depression and took medication. He liked… he wanted…

Next question.

He didn’t like loud noises or college. He didn’t like the concerning early joy of morning people (with one outstanding exception). He didn’t like himself–

Oh. No, no. Bad direction. Let’s change the course.

He–

(When would this end? When, when? He just wanted a date so he could mark it in a calendar and wait for time to do this job. Why was he… this? Why was his brain sick? He didn’t think it was very fair.

Well, many things weren’t fair. So, in the end, it made some sort of absurd sense that he had the shitty mental illness, he guessed.

Maybe he had done something bad in another life. Killed someone. Mistreated someone who needed him. And this life was his redeeming path.

Which was great, because when his mental illness acted up he could hardly do anything, let alone something bad. Ha!

The next life better give him a yacht and an endless vacation.)

“Babe? …Neeks? Neeks.” His boyfriend had been poking his arm. “You there? What are you doing?” 

Wallowing in self-pity and the pain of being here when he didn’t want to be and imagining how easier things would be if he was dead.

Nico puffed his cheeks out, closed his eyes, and didn’t answer.

“Ah.” Will mumbled. Nico silently agreed.

The worst part about it when he was like this was that nothing was the better option. Being alone was dangerous and sometimes it wasn’t what he wanted, while he never wanted other people to be forced to put up with this shit too.

“You took all your medication today?”

Nico nodded.

“Okay. Have you eaten anything?”

Nico shook his head, briefly wanting to make a face. He really didn’t want to eat anything right now. Open his mouth, chew, swallow. Taste nothing. Be more tired later.

Will didn’t ask whether there was anything he’d liked to eat.

In fact, his boyfriend didn’t say anything for a while.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked at last.

Was there?

Nico couldn’t think of anything, so he shook his head.

“Okay.” Will said.

Then there was a sound of something being thrown on the floor, near the couch Nico was lying on. A zipper being opened, and the spiral of a notebook being dragged along it as it was taken out of the bag. Pens scattering on the floor. Will mumbling something under his breath. 

Nico focused on the sounds, even as Will tried to be as quiet as possible.

He – thankfully – must have fallen asleep not so long after that. When he woke up, the room was much darker, no sunlight to create long shadows he could follow with his eyes. The – lack of – color in the walls dimmed to a quiet gray that he thought he liked, for some reason.

Will was still there, and Nico could barely see the dark wood of the floor around him, seeing as it was covered with opened thick books, papers, the laptop Will always had with him, currently showing a skeleton and the names of its bones.

Nico vaguely hoped Will wouldn’t have to memorize all those names. Poor boyfriend.

Said boyfriend was lying on the floor, one hand above his chest, holding a small piece of paper, and mouth slightly opened. His snoring wasn’t too loud.

Nico kind of wanted to take a picture of that so he could look at it when he was in a shitty mood.

But he didn’t remember where his phone was (it probably had no battery anyway), and didn’t feel like looking for it.

Thank goodness his boyfriend’s phone was right there near the couch.

He extended his arm and got it, then managed to record a small video of his boyfriend nearly drooling over his papers, snoring in high definition sound.

Future good mood: guaranteed.

But he wasn’t cruel and heartless, so after a couple of minutes of convincing himself to do it, he stood up, involving himself in the blanket he’d brought, and walked to the man on the floor.

He poked him until he woke up with a start.

“What? Neeks? Everything alright? What– Oh.” He mumbled when he saw the mess of the floor.

“Let’s go to bed.” Nico mumbled. He vaguely noticed the taste in his mouth was bad and that he didn’t smell great either.

“But I have to learn Latin.”

Will, what?

“Nap.” Nico insisted, and Will looked conflicted for about two seconds before his shoulders slumped and he nodded, rubbing his face.

“Alright.” 

His boyfriend stood up. The piece of paper he’d been holding fell, and it took a moment in which they both just stared at it before Will crouched down and got it.

“Oh! Right.” Will said with renewed excitement. “Neeks, look what I learned. See this paper in my hands–”

He made a gesture too fast for Nico to completely follow – his mind was still hazy – but the paper seemed to disappear from his hands for a moment, before Will pretended to take it from behind Nico’s ear.

Nico blinked at him.

“Ta-da! I’m a magician now!” Will beamed. “Now please open it?”

Nico didn’t really want to – he wanted to be asleep; things didn’t hurt when he was asleep. But this seemed to be important to Will, for whatever reason, so he took the paper.

And opened it.

You are awesome and worth it and I love you! =D – Your bff bf’, it said.

Below the words, two hearts had been drawn holding hands – one painted with blue ink, the other seemingly blank, empty.

Truth be told, the words made the corner of his lips lift a little, but the smile on Will’s face was what made his entire being warmer, brighter.

“I thought BFF boyfriend was particularly clever.” Will informed him.

“You’re a genius.” Nico murmured. “Now come down here, please. You sappy Houdini.”

Will leaned down to kiss him – too fast, since the idiot felt the need to pull back and say, “This is my favorite nickname ever, by the way”.

Nico gave him a pointed look and stuck his tongue out at him.

“I’m offended. And there I thought you loved me. Hmpf!” Will acted upset for a second, crossing his arms and everything. Then he dropped his act and his smile became softer, more attentive. “Okay, enough of being dorks. Sleep?”

“Sleep.” Nico agreed, and they both walked silently toward his room, the only sound being that of the blanket being dragged through the floor. Will’s hand was warm in his, and Nico held the paper close to his chest.

  • Me: *watches SVU marathon*
  • Me: I AM A BAD ASS FEMINIST DETECTIVE! DO YOU WANT ME TO ORDER A SUBPOENA? CUZ I KNOW HOW TO DO THAT. WANT ME TO CALL A BUS? I KNOW HOW TO DO THAT TOO. I CAN PROBABLY KICK A DOOR DOWN AND TAKE TWO PERPS DOWN WITH IT. LET ME DEFEND THE ENTIRE HUMAN RACE BECAUSE I CAN PROBABLY DO THAT, TOO. BTW I SIGNED UP FOR POLICE CAMP AND IM STARTING NEXT TUESDAY. THIS IS MY STORY.

OKAY SO AT KARATE I HELP OUT AND MY SENSEI WAS TELLING THE KIDS A STORY AND THE MAIN CHARACTER WAS DEAF. SO MY TEACHER SAID “Do you guys know what being deaf is?” AND I KID YOU NOT THE KID SAID EXACTLY THIS:

“Yea! It’s when you DEAFinately can’t hear”

I LAUGHED SO HARD THE WHOLE CLASS LOOKED AT ME BUT I COULDN’T HELP IT! THAT PUN WAS SO GOOD! I CANT WAIT TILL THIS KID GETS A TUMBLR OMG

Can we please murder the notion that brutality, ruthlessness and a lack of feeling are the building blocks of strength?

Because…they really, really aren’t.

I’ve been thinking and I realized a really positive personal moral from 2016 for me is the idea that you should care about stuff out of love, not out of fear. for more explanation… multiple years now I’d felt very disconnected from my original characters/stories, unable to interface with them as if the me that was originally able to conceive of them was dead and gone. I still worked on developing them, but my care for them at this point was motivated by fear: fear that I am a hack and a hasbeen, fear that my stories are shallow garbage, fear that people would ream me if I didn’t do things a certain way; and so to avoid these outcomes I worked on my stories with desperation. and isolated myself emotionally bc of it.

my resolution for last year was simply to let myself be more open about posting on twitter about things I genuinely like. the idea was this would help me loosen my grips on that fear of other peoples’ judgement which was keeping me from doing and feeling many things. it was way harder than such a thing ought to have been but by the very end of the year I can definitely say I have reached a revelation about it lol. I’ve very recently been on fire with inspiration for my ocs, going through old plot notes and scene ideas and tidying them up, and drawing. passing up other activities in favor of drawing, because I’m actually having fun and feeling satisfied and excited about what I’m making. I care but this time it’s because I’m focusing on making something I myself would love to see or read, at my own pace and by my own standards. I took the isolation of fear and turned it into a room where I can play by myself and make things for myself. but the point is I’m making things, which I wasn’t before! 

so yeah, one step ahead in life and love. care about things because you love them, not because you’re afraid of something!! 

Shadow

For @happymoomin!

Shadow is like his name implies, a quiet character who follows Moomin around. The character only appears in the comic strips and the animated movie “Moomins on the Riviera”. He rarely said a word but was always present, often mimicking Moomintroll’s actions.

Shadow is seeminly part of the small creatures called “creeps” that inhabit the margins of the Moomin world. These small creatures may or may not have individual names. They are often described as timid are the first ones to hide from dangers. Shadow’s appearance is similiar to many small creeps, like the ones Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden see in Moominsummer Madness.

Shadow does have a major speaking role twice in the comics. First time he’s seen speaking in  Moomin and Family Life where he first thinks Moomintroll is a bomb and switches places with his cousin because he himself needs to get married. After this Moomintroll is instead followed by a completely black shadow.

Shadow plays a bigger role in this story when desperate Moomintroll is crying and suddenly notices him. Shadow becomes so happy about being noticed that he wishes he could save Moomintroll’s life or something similiar. So he takes it on himself to find Snorkmaiden for him!

After this incident Shadow is sometimes seen making comments or questions. He questions Moomintroll’s actions and sometimes points out details for him to notice. To a small creature, being noticed by someone must have meant the world.