Summary: Watching the man you love love someone else was the most painful feeling in the world.
Part Two: x
Part Three: xPart Four: xAlternate Ending: x
The rain fell just loud enough for you to hear, the skies a beautiful but somber grey and the world feeling otherwise silent. The birds weren’t chirping. The neighborhood seemed empty. It was just you. You and your empty apartment and your thoughts. The all consuming thoughts that made the silence seem so loud. His voice just kept replaying in your head, like the soundtrack to the otherwise quiet moment.
summary: jungkook struggles to keep his hands to himself
rated m for mature themes. word count: 740 (drabble of sorts)
Calm and calculated that was Jeon Jungkook. He is daring today, pushing up beside you on the kitchen counter. He watches inches away as his two best friend’s furiously tap at their controllers, eyes focused on the bright images flashing upon the screen in front.
He comments on the dull weather and you hum flicking at the page of a magazine. At a glance the interaction seems innocent enough, your brother’s best friend casually engaging in conversation with you. Unseen, his hand wanders up the soft flesh of your thigh his grip tight, fingers smoothing over your skin as he hikes up the soft cotton of your shorts.
He was golden honey, thick and rich, dripping off of cracked, brittle bones that were rotted through the middle. His skin was dried, cracked syrup, gooey and sticky to the touch. Teru’s hair was golden ribbons, too dull and weathered to shine under the sun’s rays. He was emotionless smiles full of sharp, bleach white teeth. He was vacant eyes that shone gold under the right light, but were pupilless and void of anything.
You had a secret that only a few people knew, but one afternoon Peter decided to follow you around New York, budding into your personal life.
Featuring: Reader X Peter Parker X Tony X Steve Warnings: None
Peter Parker was the vain of your existence. Since the day you met him you couldn’t stand the ground he walked on. All the other Avenger seemed to love him but not you. No, he poked and prodded and always asked too many questions. You knew one day this kid was going to get himself into trouble, and you weren’t going to be around him for when that happened. At least that was the plan.
Habit of rust, and all oddments necessary to the thrush of each warbler. To expunge the haunted unknown thing. I possess too much or not enough.
Beside the riverbed moss ripens its fur to a deep emerald green. Sickle of the boglands, crowned and traveling. Figs unattended plump gorge and wither never eaten or touched by anyone. Desolate. Lune heaps it’s swallowed throat to the dark, never quavering, shadow ripens hindered by the brief full arms of me [injured.
Brood of habit, hands always empty - clenched , alive and numb. Field gray with halcyon. Dark by descending, by century, blister and audacity. Null of the mute dumb broom memorized.
Dog days dead end. Unable to refrain from sin or ruin. Violent, peculiar, clean as copper and doomed. This the world that opens and shuts fluttering like an eyelid. By the end of the day you were only ever sleeping. Cooler than frost, in dull weather, I will not be failed again. Better to love no one.
a summary: i’m a terrible person and should turn to jesus for a clearance of my sins.
It was rather a sunny day, which was odd, because London weather is usually cloudy, but it was also refreshing, due to the constant dull weather that danced around in the sky.
Phil opened his eyes to see Dan’s ruffled hair and a sleepy face. Oh God, was he beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful thing Phil has ever seen. For a moment he gets carried away and follows the trace of Dan’s jawline with his fingertips, because he couldn’t just look. “Babe, wake up, it’s almost twelve and we still aren’t out of bed,” He says softly. Dan makes one of his many cute faces and rubs his eyes tiredly. “It’s already twelve? God, I feel as if I’ve been sleeping for only two hours.” Phil can’t help but kiss the tip of Dan’s nose, because he was that fucking adorable. “You tired?” Phil asked and uncovered himself as he got out of bed, starting to look for his clothes. And Dan shot out of bed, taking the jeans out of Phil’s hands. “Yes, but I have a few ideas how I could get myself ready for the day.” Dan’s voice was as low as it could be, sending shivers all throughout Phil’s body. Dan could be cute, but there were times when he was just so fucking hot. Phil pulled Dan by the hem of his boxers and started kissing him gently. His other hand found its way to the younger boy’s already ruffled hair and Dan smiled inbetween kisses. “You know what I like already, baby.” The kisses intensified, and so did the tension that grew like mad around them. Dan pushed Phil onto the bed and he grinned as he got on top of him. He started to drag his fingertips from Phil’s lips to his chest, then stomach, and then his boxers. Phil’s breath hitched and he wanted to let out a moan, but he also wanted Dan to work harder, to try his best. As he always does. And instead of just his fingertips, he now touched Phil through the thin fabric of his boxers, as he moaned, wanting more. Now, Dan has always been a tease, so he slowly took Phil’s underwear off and slowly jerked him off, which tends to anger Phil sometimes. “Dan,” his breath hitched as Dan picked up his pace, but he wasn’t quite there yet. Dan hummed in response and Phil softly moaned once again. “Faster.” “No, Philly, you can’t come just yet. I have a surprise for you.” He winks and rubs himself on Phil, as Phil kisses him passionately, their lips a sloppy mess, but that didn’t matter.
“Where are you going?” Phil asks as Dan gets off him and opens the wardrobe. He doesn’t reply, because he’s obviously very concentrated on what he’s looking for. After a while, he smiles and grabs something out of it, and closes the wardrobe. “I got it.” Dan walks over to Phil again, who is now sitting on the bed. “Why are you holding a lightsaber in your hand?” He smiles. Dan just runs his hand through his hair and chuckles. “I told you I have a surprise.”
Dan climbs on the bed and crawls towards Phil. “I want you to suck this like you’ve sucked me. Hard.” He didn’t know how to react, so he just raised an eyebrow. “You want me to suck a lightsaber.” Dan smirked. “Come on, baby. Do it for me.” He whispered in Phil’s ear, again teasing his hard cock. Phil eventually gave in after a series of moans caused by Dan, took the lightsaber out of Dan’s hands and started to suck it. “Yes baby, just like that. Fuck yes.” Phil still didn’t get why or how this turned Dan on, but we all have our fantasies and the least he could do was respect his boyfriend’s ones. “Enough.” Said Dan in a completely husky and sensual voice. “Now let me fuck you with it.” At first, Phil’s eyes widened because how the fuck is that supposed to fit in his asshole? Dan, seeing the reluctance in Phil’s eyes, added, “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t go too hard. You’ll like it.” He smirked. And fuck, the way called him like that with his raspy and horny voice, he couldn’t resist it. Phil nodded and he slowly turned on his back, waiting to be fucked by the big, green giant lightsaber that was already lubed up with his own saliva. Dan first went slowly, hearing Phil’s almost inaudible moans, but still hearable. “You like it, don’t you?” He went even further and Phil’s moans became louder, which was only the indicator that he did. Instead of pushing it, he started twisting it and Phil bit his lip, not letting a sound come out of his mouth. It hurt a little, but it was bareable. The pain was almost enjoyable. He then continued to twist it, but also pushed it even further. “Dan!” Phil moaned and called out for him with an alarmed voice, but Dan was calm. Dan used his full strength now and pushed it down even more, causing Phil’s asshole to stretch even wider, which amazed Dan. He was his little whore. “D-Dan,” Phil gulped, not prompting himself up on his arms anymore - he gave out and fell onto the bed, with the lightsaber still inside of him.
“Make me horny, Phil.” Again, Dan’s raspy and seductive voice has awoken something in Phil and he smirks. He turns around, leads Dan to grab the lightsaber again, and he kept pushing it further and further. “F-Force choke me, daddy.” Phil manages to say inbetween his moans and groans and that gets Dan even more fueled up as he wraps his slender fingers around Phil’s neck and starts to squeeze gently at first, and then even harder. Phil was only left to fuck himself with the lightsaber, which was a little more painful and warmer, but he managed. “Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re fucking yourself, Phil,” He whispered, “moan for me, baby.” And Dan stopped choking him and returned to putting his hands on the lightsaber, and this time, pushing it in even further, as Phil crumbled under the effect and started groaning in pain. “D-Dan, stop..” He could not continue anymore, because the pain became unbareable for him. It was as if Dan was deaf, and he started to jerk it into him even more, and more, and more. “Baby, just hold on for a little more, please.” Phil shook his head. “I c-can’t, stop, Dan..” It burned more than anything, it hurt more than when he broke his arm and it’s like he can’t wake up from a nightmare. And this was the last straw. Dan used all of his strength and pushed it the furthest it can go. Phil screamed in agony and blood started pouring out from his asshole and Dan removed the lightsaber from it, giving Phil the ability to roll himself into a fetus position and sob. “Are you okay, Philly?” Dan says with a painfully soft voice, the one that made Phil believe in his innocence. “I-I can’t b-believe you’re asking me this. After y-you have.. Done this.. I j-just c-can’t-” Dan interrupted Phil’s words by pressing a passionate kiss on them, and Phil actually reciprocated with an equally passionate one. It’s like he can’t go against Dan’s words. Or actions. “Can you suck it one more time, for me, Phil?” His voice wasn’t raspy or sexy, it continued on being solely soft and silky, which made Phil ease into it and nod. Phil proceeded sucking it while Dan shoved it into his mouth, which Phil was reluctant about but let it go quite casually. And Dan became a little carried away once more, and shoved it too far, which resulted in Phil gagging and puking all the undigested food from lunch mixed with a little bit of blood. Dan stood excited, taking the puke and lathering the lightsaber in it. “Perfect.” He whispered. As Phil leaned over to the side of the bed to continue puking and to spit blood, Dan made it his mission to fuck Phil with the lightsaber once more. Lathered up in Phil’s stomach contents and blood, the lightsaber entered him once more. He quickly rose up from his position and screamed once more. “Dan, I-I told you.. The first t-time.. It hurts..” He was worn out after all this, but Dan didn’t care. “Everything is going to be fine, Philly. Everything is going to be just fine..” Dan reaches for Phil’s cock and strokes it while, at the same time, jerking the lightsaber up and down his asshole. Phil gets hard and moans in the fraction of pleasure he was able to feel until the sore pain caught up and he almost screamed in agony again.
This time, Dan did not just overdo it, he went all in and pushed the lightsaber the furthest once more, smashing through his ass and into his bowels, and Phil couldn’t even waste energy in screaming how much it hurt. It felt like such a horrid dream and he wanted to wake up from it as soon as possible. Blood spurted everywhere, and Dan’s face grew with happiness. “Phil, you’re so fucking amazing,” Dan moaned, as if this was turning him on. Phil’s eyes widened in shock because how can this turn anyone on? How can people enjoy someone else’s pain like this? Because he could not bare anymore pain, Phil collapsed on the bed, his body twitching. “P-Please stop, Dan.” He just smiled and kissed Phil, getting up from the bed and taking the lightsaber. Just as Phil was about to speak, Dan shoved the lightsaber down his throat, making him suffocate and spurt blood everywhere, while puking simultaneously. Dan then jerked off his already rock-hard penis, and looking at Phil’s image like this made him go over the edge and come all over the lightsaber. Then, the thing was covered in Phil’s puke and blood, and also Dan’s sperm. He left Phil half-concious in the bedroom while he went to the kitchen. He then came back seconds later with a kitchen knife in his hand and proceeded to Phil. “This is going to sting a little, babe, I need you to stay strong for me.” Poor Phil, he didn’t know what else to do than to just nod and Dan just rammed the knife into his head, creating a deep hole in it. Dan then took the lightsaber and shoved it into the hole, pulling it in and out, his cock throbbing. Blood now covered the bed sheets and the nightstand, as well as the beige lamp that sat on top of it. He took out the lightsaber and started fucking Phil’s head, and, he would lie if he said it didn’t feel so good. It was almost better than usual sex he would have with Phil.
“Surprise,” Dan whispered and fell asleep hugging Phil’s dead body.
June 17th - I cycled past the coos of Jockey Meadows at half six. It was clearly knocking off time. It had been raining and everywhere was grey and dismal. But something about these gentle, inquisitive beasts always cheers me up.
Stop calling autism a disease. Stop saying “autistic symptoms” or “symptoms of autism.” If autism is a disease, then so is being a man, or being a woman. If autism is a disease, then not being autistic is also a disease. If autism is a disease, then humanity is a disease. If autism is a disease, then liking music, or not liking music, are diseases.
Let’s look at some of the traits of autism, the so-called “symptoms,” shall we? Not making eye contact, that’s a good one. You know what? If that’s your metric for a disease, then you might as well say that everyone in Japan is afflicted with a disease, because their culture frowns on making eye contact with one another.
What next? Hey, how about “special interests.” So we can’t even have hobbies, now? You just called anyone with a hobby diseased, congratulations.
Going on… okay, so stimming. Oh hey, children do that. Is childhood a disease? Is anyone who bites their nails or taps their pencil during a test also diseased? Do you like a certain album or song enough that you’ve listened to it multiple times in a row? Or an iPod playlist? Does that make you diseased? Please tell me, I want to know.
Oh, and that old stereotype that we lack empathy? Utter bullshit. We have the opposite problem; we have hyper-empathy. We have so much empathy that it overwhelms us and we have to shut it off or shut it out to cope. Also, we may know what you’re feeling, but knowing *why* you’re feeling that way does not come easily to us. It takes a lot of work, and works best when we know someone really well.
Scientists have found that autism has always existed, it is as much a part of humanity as language is, or music. We autistic people were very useful back in the hunter-gatherer day, since many tasks we had to do required hyper-focus and an ability to zone out and not be bothered by menial tasks. And if all of you allistics would pull your heads out of your collective arses, we’d be very useful to modern mankind, if only you would take the time and effort to reduce the noise levels, both audio noise and visual noise.
The truth is, autistics have been with us since the ancestors of humans first came down from the trees. I’d be willing to bet it was an autistic person who discovered how to create fire without having to wait for lightning to strike.
You know what I think? I think we autistics weren’t noticeable for a long time as being distinct from allistics, but as humans left their old ways behind more and more, and the cities got bigger, noisier, and more crowded, I think we who are autistic, we who fulfilled a niche humans needed in those days (and still do, in many cultures around the world) simply were not as able to adapt to the growing noise and crowding. So I think that a lot of what you call “symptoms” of autism are in fact symptoms of our distress at being unable to cope with a noisier, more crowded world.
Do I think this means autistic people can’t live in cities? Of course not. For one thing, we do live in cities. In fact, (and bear with me here for a moment) I am a writer, and I have an entire science fiction world full of people who are very much autistic by Western cultural standards. They still live in cities, but their cities are quieter in terms of sound and visual noise, the lights are dimmer because their people mostly lived in forests (like many humans through time) until the cities started to come. And because of a quirk of their evolution making most of them autistic by our standards, they couldn’t cope when cities took on traits like our cities, so they would redesign things until they could.
But yes, some of the autistic “symptoms,” like say my being uncomfortable in my own skin and thus often twitchy or itchy, I think that symptom is actually a symptom of my anxiety… anxiety I got for being a square peg in a round hole. It makes me wonder how many other “symptoms” of autism are really the result of anxiety. Meltdowns are known to be the result of distress, people trying to force that square peg into that round hole. Any “therapy” that forces us to try to be like you allistics (quiet hands, restraint during meltdowns, any behavior that regularly gives us meltdowns to begin with, etc) are just as abusive as gay conversion therapy is.
So very many of us have had to shave our corners off to fit our square peg into your round hole, but then we get stuck. We don’t work right, even when we kinda fit into the round hole, because we were shoved in there, we may have mutilated our minds to fit in, but we will never fit. We are not the disease, your insistence on curing us of an imagined disease is the real disease. Instead of trying to change our square pegs, why not change the holes so they fit you and us equally well, or give us some of our own square holes?
Autism is not a disease. And if you keep referring to it as though it is, I’m going to start referring to allism (that is, not-autism) as a disease.
Yes, the disease of allism. No really, that alien species I mentioned above, who are all autistic by our standards, on their planet there is a condition that amounts to allism. Symptoms may include:
* An unnerving fondness for direct eye contact. * Lack of awareness or concern of personal boundaries; violates personal space regularly. * Excessive desire to socialize, to an unhealthy degree. * Unable to focus for very long on any one task. * Gets bored easily. * Unable to speak with strangers about special interests, partly for a lack of same; instead insists on discussing dull things like the weather, or gossiping. * Seem to want to speak just to hear themselves speak, and wish others to do the same, with nothing of any meaningfulness being transmitted. * Not only knows what others are feeling (which is normal), but has an unsettling ability to know WHY others are feeling that way, without having to be told. (Possible telepathy?) * Paradoxically, unable or unwilling to accommodate the needs of others, often upsetting people in ways that were easily preventable, were they normal. * Unnatural fondness for noise; must fill every available moment
of their lives, practically, with sounds or with visual noise. * Unusually and unnervingly quick to change things around, to fix what wasn’t broken, often for no reason at all, or for shaky reasons. (Unnatural aversion to routine.) * Does not appear to need the normal, natural comfort of stims, at least not to the same degree as usual.
You see what I mean? You can point at anything and call it a disease, but calling it a disease does not make it one. So STOP. CALLING. AUTISM. A. DISEASE!!! STOP CALLING THEM “SYMPTOMS,” AND CALL THEM “TRAITS” INSTEAD! STOP TRYING TO CHANGE US! STOP TRYING TO MAKE US FIT YOUR EXPECTATIONS, AND CHANGE YOUR EXPECTATIONS INSTEAD!
And please, please, PLEASE will you take the time to get to know us, listen to us when we tell you what we need you to do or not do to help us cope with this noisy, overwhelming world, and please have some of that empathy and compassion that you keep claiming is an allistic trait, because at least when it comes to autistic people, it seems to me that “lacks empathy” is more a symptom of allism than autism.
Rays of sun peeked through the curtains in golden streaks, illuminating the bedroom. You squinted through the brightness as your eyes adjusted to the new lighting before taking in your surroundings. Everything looked familiar, yet it wasn’t your bedroom. There was a throbbing between your legs and you could feel the bruises that coloured your hips a dark purple. The pain was numbing, yet oddly satisfying, reminding you of the previous incredible night.
You followed the path of the arm that was carelessly draped over your stomach and turned to face the handsome features of the man lying next to you. He had chocolate brown hair which matched his eyes, bronze skin and a body that must have been sculpted by gods. And he was all yours.
Scenario: It’s rainy and wet in Seoul and all you want to do is curl up with your boyfriend Sungyeol and forget about the weather Rating: hot and wet and smutty Word Count: 2052
It was winter, but the biting cold you were expecting hadn’t arrived in full force. The snow you’d been hoping for was taking it’s time to get here and instead gave way to rain – days and days of rain, almost like it was August again, when Seoul was drenched in what felt like a monsoon. Your mood matched the weather: dull and grey and depressed.
Today was much like the day before it; the rain lashed down from the sky relentlessly, and by the time you had jogged the short distance from the office to the bus stop you were drenched. With no room to sit, you spent the journey home trying not to drip all over the man reading his newspaper in the seat beside you.
Getting home felt like such a relief. Work had been stressful what with coming up to the year’s end and everyone looking forward to Christmas and some time off, an air of distraction creeping in towards the end of the day. You took off your shoes at the door and shook your umbrella – which had been pretty useless due to the wind anyway – casting little droplets of water around. You could hear the muffled sound of the TV from the living room and felt the weight on your shoulders begin to lift right away, knowing that today was Sungyeol’s day off, meaning he’d be all warm and snug on the sofa, probably with blankets and snacks.
Here’s a super last-minute thing for @gamethyst-bomb, specifically the prompt for Day 4: Earth. I’m also dedicating this to that most Gamethyst-loving of pals, @antecubital-fossa.
Garnet gets contemplative, and Amethyst gets a present. ~1800 words.
Day In And Day Out
The mission takes her to a desert, to sun-beaten ruins flung far from any human presence, be it road or outpost or settlement.
remembers this place very well, from Before. She remembers what it was
going to be, until the sudden end of the war put a horrifying stop to
everything. She remembers disrupting its construction several times over
several centuries leading up to that, different companions by her side
on each occasion.
remembers its guards, too. Small, single-minded, endlessly determined:
four Gems who failed to make it to Homeworld’s rush-job retreat (if they
were ever even deemed important enough to be informed of it), and four
reasons she wanted to come here alone.
form of the first corrupted ruby dissipates beneath her gauntlets in
seconds, leaving behind nothing more than a patch of sand melted into
glass and a red gem Garnet has little trouble envisioning on her own
left palm. The three other rubies aren’t far behind, however - they
never were. They may have forgotten most of themselves, but they have
not forgotten this.
Stronger together. Attack as one.
Garnet is stronger, and more together than she’s been in a while. She
makes short work of the hotheaded trio, sends their bubbled gems off
with a gentle tap on each, and allows herself a much-needed moment in
the sudden quiet.
The hot, dry wind is good for focusing, and it’s been a trying few weeks of a trying year.