i’ve been re-reading some of the works from this fandom and phew, the memories 🥺 it feels so good to re-live the emotions these stories have caused. the inspiration it all creates is beautiful.
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Cosimo Galluzzi
styofa doing anything
ojovivo
Sade Olutola

Kaledo Art
todays bird

if i look back, i am lost

tannertan36

Kiana Khansmith
taylor price
Peter Solarz
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Today's Document

★

Origami Around
Stranger Things
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
dirt enthusiast

pixel skylines
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from Hungary

seen from Canada
seen from Hungary

seen from Hungary

seen from Hungary
seen from Hungary
seen from Sri Lanka

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Hungary
seen from Hungary

seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Japan
seen from Philippines

seen from United States
@inspiredbyewho
i’ve been re-reading some of the works from this fandom and phew, the memories 🥺 it feels so good to re-live the emotions these stories have caused. the inspiration it all creates is beautiful.
#yourwork is sooo impressive, sis. your word usage is sickening. i literally reread lines with awe because of the beautiful way they're constructed. this was beautiful... it was sex but it wasn't lewd... it was like poetry. there was such a fluidity and a lushness. i'm just... in shambles. i really loved this. i loved the major details (names and such) weren't even needed. i iive for you work. you're brilliant.
thank you so much i am beaming thank you!!! and i’m so happy you noticed that they’re nameless. i wanted the whole tale to really embody “in the moment” // “heat of the moment” type concepts. a first sight connection that forgoes manners or formalities and..just happens. so thank you :)))
entering venus
..it was purely tantric..
With dainty fingers, she holds my hand as we walk down the hall. It’s unevenly paved and basic with its brown color. The clicking of her heels bounce off the walls and into the air but the noise goes unnoticed—the air is already heavy with anticipation and expectation. Our shadows spread on the wall beside us, the moon casting its bright light. The evening feels ethereal.
Alone, behind the closed door of her apartment, our energies are concentrated. I know she feels it because the weight pressing against my chest promises to concave my lungs. She’s nonchalant in her actions as she releases her curled hair from its bun and unbuckles her sandals. Quietly, she disappears around a corner. A small light opens a moment later. I take my time following.
Her home is well furnished and earthy. I barely notice the swirls of brown and gold, but they’re fitting. Her walls are mostly bare, dotted with peculiar art pieces. Lust has wound around me a gold piece of twine, leading me to what will both destroy and rebirth me. Around the corner, I find a small kitchen. She is leaned against the granite counter, sipping a glass of wine. For the first time, I notice the bright fuchsia color on both her finger and toenails. It’s loud and attention grabbing. It’s all she’s continued to steal from me tonight.
“Wine?” She asks. Her voice sings to me.
I nod, crowding the space of the already tight room. She turns to retrieve another glass but I gently cover her hand, taking her flute away from her. She watches me closely as I finish the rest of her wine. We are so close that I can visibly see her breathing patterns change. I smile slowly, cupping her face. I watch how she expects a kiss to the lips. How her eyes close in preparation. I feel her shudder as she realizes I’ve delivered it behind her ear instead. The frequency of her buzzing body almost matches mine.
..in the dark of the night, she gave me pieces of herself..
Under inky waters, we are finally submerged.
Our limbs, once heavy with trepidation, are now frantic with desire. Mindless for touch. Arbitrary, yet right. Completely just.
Her manicured hands pull at the buttons of my shirt while I untangle the web of silk that still selfishly keeps her covered. I sigh into her lips as my hot skin finds its relief, no longer choked by clothing. I push closer into her as her hands span over me in curiosity. Big eyes look up at me with want, need.
A hedonistic fire burns behind dark brown pupils.
I fan it.
In silence, the silk disappears from her body. She watches me watch her—my eyes accept the perfectness of every curve and dip in her supple body. I glide my knuckle over the swell of her breast, smiling with every reaction her body grants me. Lifting her onto the counter, I plan to worship every part of her. Each of my palms occupy a thigh, drawing them apart as I tantalize her with licks and kisses. Her palms grapple and squeeze from my biceps to my waist, until she finds where she is home. Low cast eyes command my entire being as she squeezes and strokes me. I flex into her, lighting rods shooting within me.
I try to take my time…but I cannot.
..in some hypnotic will, I gave her all of me..
My chest heaves as I reach between her legs. That is when my knees truly feel compromised. She is wet and warm and I don’t know what I’d like to do first. Lewd images cloud my mind. The thought of my fingers gliding within her marry with the idea of her slowly descending upon my face. I can barely imagine the joining of our bodies. I constrict at the thought of it.
Suckling her neck, I run my fingertips along her swollen, lower lips. Her short sighs and light coos bring me to delirium. I don’t want to be brought back. She grips at the counter as I find what winds her up and tears her down. The better I do, the closer she clings.
“Bedroom..please,” she manages between sighs and fluttering eyes.
…
We fall into her sheets, a ball of hot sin. Legs tangled, arms clutching, and hands caressing. Laying beneath me I watch the minute ticks of her body. The irregularity of her ragged breaths. The shift of her hands against her satin sheets. The rubbing of the foot she sneakily wraps behind my thigh. The twitches make her human, make this real.
It motivates my desire to ruin her.
Within short minutes, I inflict hours of worship upon her body. I nibble where she finds pleasing and nip where it makes her jump until she is panting from barely anything but attacks from my mouth. I find my real destination when I descend upon her thighs.
A faint moan escapes her as I part her legs. The farther up I massage my palms, the warmer and softer she feels. The hottest gem lays right at the apex of her thighs, her core. It puckers at me with excitement, making its own sounds with every mindless shift of her body. I become fixated. Ravenous. Unstoppable.
The coo I draw from her seems not of this dimension as lick her swollen lips. I take my time finding the exact map to her body. Long licks followed by rapid laps cause her to take gulps of air. Suckling and nibbling draws animalistic cries and wild bucking. Special attention to her clit allows me to strum her entire being like a taut string – slowly increasing the vibration, little by little until she is warm honey in my waiting palms.
The light from the moon casts over her features in the most beautiful shadows. It’s as though her faces follow their own set of phases through the night. Sweet lips open in small o’s. Deep eyes feather and roll to and fro. Cheeks first upturned in sweet, filling delight – only to turn upside down in tumultuous, stake-driving pleasure.
The signs of her body tell me she’s close. The way she quivers against my lips awaken a demon within me. My lashings resort from tender afflictions to potent stings. Reminders that this is real. That I can destroy. That I will.
The sounds of her body bring forth the dirtiest words to my lips. I whisper them to her, watching them dance over her sweating skin. They thrash her head from side to side, they drive her nails to dig into my hair.
“Make me – please…make me cum,” she cries choppily, unsure of whether she should pull or push away my head.
Looking deep into her, I hold her body down at the waist. She is fixated by my eyes, I command her wordlessly. Twirling my tongue about her clit, I demand her. Her body ascends to Nirvana before she’s even aware. I lap at the stickiness flowing from her pussy slowly, massaging her inner thighs as she loses particles of her mind. I’ve brought her to delirium and refuse to let her rest.
The heat rising inside me is unexplainable as I watch her shudder in post orgasmic bliss. Streams of air leave her nostrils faintly, her nipples still engorged as her chest moves up and down. Her pleasure satisfies me to the point that this moment, alone, sates me.
She surprises me.
Depleted, she still manages to rise and topple me. Laying back in a sea of pillows, I watch her body tower before me. My eyes are stolen to full breasts, a soft stomach, and ample hips. She glows rose gold. Her beauty is not a thing I can describe but something I can only experience, appreciate in this moment.
With devilish eyes, she steals from me my control as she moves her hands up and down my sinewy thighs. Perhaps I gave it to her. On hands and knees, she looks both primal and submissive. Ready to give in to my every desire and consume me whole.
Soft palms move over my dick – my head lolls to the side instantly as my mouth parts in shallow breaths. It is now that I’m fully aware of the pent up pressure within me. I want to watch but my eyes are heavy with need. The feel of her lips on the head rushes me, leaving my mind light and airy. Dancing on lavender clouds and shooting stars.
Ready to be engulfed, I become impatient when no other sensation follows after. Eyes hazy, I raise my head in question only to feel the searing warmth of her sliding down unto me.
“Fuck,” I groan uncontrollably, need dripping from my tongue. My mouth rules itself, releasing strings of curses and blessings.
Her sex surrounds mine in a tight, warm, ribbed embrace as she bounces upon me. Her waist and spine contort as she winds up against me. She moves sickeningly slow, drawing me to and from the edge. I am obedient under her reign. Her chest collapses in moans and cries while I deteriorate under her spell.
I feel like my pants and shouts please her ears. I’ll sing forever.
My hands grapple at her softness. Her ass, her breasts, and her waist never long for anything as I give my attentive care. She gnaws on her bottom lip as I appreciate her with my hands. She yelps when I slap my palm against her bottom. Her rhythmic bounces stutter and shake as I tap my thumb against her exposed clit.
Now we both tumble out of control.
She leans in closer, steadying herself as she grasps my shoulders. In between her features twisted in pleasure, I see everything she needs. Grasping her waist, I sit up until we were situated near the edge of her bed. Her hands travel from my shoulders to the base of my neck. I match her bounces with thrusts until I can no longer tell which inhale is hers and which exhale is mine. We are cloaked in an abundance of longing, release, and pleasure.
In this stranger, I found home.
..we seeped from each other’s pores into the air, into the sheets, into her walls. Our mangled voices echoing, trapped to tell a lasting story..
and soon i will post blue light special: 2 (titled “entering venus”) but it’s, like, early :s
@soonwellbefoundfic : utter perfection.there was hardly any dialogue here yet sooo much was said. I’M IN SHAMBLES
thank youuuu B :’))) i’m glad i was able to convey the depth of this properly.
@winddancer76 : I love this
thank you, i’m so glad :)
@breebreeis21 : This had me so totally enamored from the way that you depicted the story, and this feeling just built up so much, that by the end, I had goosebumps :). I loved it, loved it, loved it!!!
thank you so much! i’m so happy to hear that. :)))
why do I love you?
i’m really trying work my way out of my one update every month or so funk but my motivation is waning. it’s so frustrating to inject energy into something only to have no return. i’ve noticed that feedback is few and far between and it’s not just me who isn’t getting comments, it’s other authors who spend time creating art only to receive close to nothing in return. it’s frustrating and hinders excitement. and i’m sure i can speak for other authors when i say that once the excitement fades so do the updates. and, i don’t know if yawl noticed but people really aren’t updating much around these parts. i don’t think that everyone is suddenly busy, i think that just like me everyone is lacking excitement.
-b
larry.
“You get your hair done?”
Her straightened black hair had been the first thing I’d noticed. It was a stark contrast to the wavy mass she’d been sporting earlier this morning.
Her silky tresses swung as she moved.
“Yeah,” Her reply was airy and lacking of true care. I decided not to let it get to me.
“In Harlem?”
“Yeah.”
My sigh cracked through my calm demeanor. Marlee was one of the most frustrating people I’d ever met. Her nonchalant attitude was something that frustrated me even with ten years between us.
I cherished knowing – in any capacity. And Marlee cherished making it known that she was unbothered by the fact that I wanted to know. She lived to torture me. She lived to plaster the fact that she didn’t care across any surface she knew my eyes would trace over.
“Why you not tell me? I would have took you.”
She finally stopped what she was doing to glance at me. “I didn’t mind going on my own.”
She moved pass me and down the hall with Millie trailing closely behind her. I watched, unsure whether to follow or stay put. A part of me wanted to give her space but that was the exact way I’d fucked up in the past. I’d given her too much space – ample space for her angst to grow and hate to bloom. I couldn’t do that again, even if it meant getting on her nerves.
With a sigh I followed the same trail she’d just taken, ending up in our bedroom. I passed by my shoes, the same pair I’d slid out of last night before crawling in bed with a sleeping Marlee.
She’d woken up, kissed me and fitted her body to mine before going back to sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night she’d ditched her slumber due to the need flooding her veins. I was pulled from my sleep with hot kisses along my neck and even hotter flesh pressed against mine. I’d given in to her, satiated her. And, as we went at it I realized that I was just as needy only I would never ask – I was too afraid to.
Last night she’d been an inferno.
And this morning she resembled Siberia.
She paused in the midst of peeling her shirt off as though she felt my presence. Without a word, she turned to take me in with eyes that gave nothing away. I matched her stare, hoping she’d speak but to my dismay she carried on with the task of removing her street clothes.
When she remained only in her panties she began shifting through my side of the closet for a shirt. I said nothing. I’d given up on trying to keep her out of my clothes long ago. It was a fruitless battle that only left me frustrated and her victorious.
Satisfaction consumed her face when she came across an old BBP shirt with a Beyoncé graphic on the front. She pulled the shirt over her head, allowing it to fall over the top of her thighs before gazing at me.
There was a teasing glint in her eyes even as her face remained neutral. That nearly brought a smile to my face but her looking away deaded any urge to show my glee.
“Can I take you to dinner tonight?” I posed the question while I had her in one spot. I had to act fast, as her attention was so fleeting these days.
Her head always seemed to be in the clouds. She always seemed to be occupied but I was smart enough to know that her unreachable disposition was exclusively for me. She’d done such a good job with shielding herself from me that I was now truly watching her from the outside.
I hated it.
I hated how inaccessible she was to me. I hated that I had to walk over miles of eggs each time I wanted to interact with her. I hated that I’d done this to us.
My discomfort with our current situation made me want to retreat. I wanted to tuck my tail, run to a hiding spot and nurse my wounds but I wouldn’t. I’d done more running than Usain Bolt and enough was enough. I wanted to stay and fight – for us.
“Can’t.” Her eyes glided over to mine. “I have plans.”
“Oh.” My shoulders slumped. “Okay.”
I didn’t bother asking what her plans were. I didn’t want to push too hard. I knew that if I wanted to be in her good graces again I would have to do things her way.
These past few days had been every bit of confusing. She was mine but she wasn’t. She pushed me away but she pulled me close. She couldn’t make up her mind, and it was exhausting but I was determined to hang in there. I was determined to fight.
I moved to leave the room. Her rejection stung. Though I was willing to put it all on the line for her I still had my pride that took a beating every time she turned me away.
I found myself nursing wounds more often than I was comfortable with but it came with the territory of dealing with her. It came with the territory of being a masochist.
“I lied.” She blurted out as I moved towards the door. “I’m sorry… I don’t have plans – I just–“
I turned, facing her with eyes that were narrowed in confusion and a mouth that was tight with frustration.
“Why you lie?” My brows furrowed. “You don’t want to spend time with me?” I cursed myself for asking such a weighty question. I didn’t want the answer but then again I needed it.
“No, it’s not that. I’m–“ She heaved a sigh and I was sure her chest was going to expand enough to meet mine. “My first instinct is to avoid you – and I know I said I would try but I’m so scared. I’m terrified.”
Her honesty shocked and appeased me at the very same time. It was surprising and refreshing – a zing and a punch to the gut.
She been encased in her own world for so long that her giving me a small glimpse of her truth lit my world up. Every little bit she offered gave me so much satisfaction. I’d started a collection of the pieces of her that she made available. I was nowhere near close but that didn’t stop me from striving to have all of her.
She was worth the fight. She was worth the frustration and the headaches. She was everything and I was willing to spend every second reminding her of that.
In a matter of days we’d switched roles. It was nearly comical the way things had altered since our night at Webster Hall. I’d made a vow to myself to be more open and honest. I’d promised to make a conscious effort to neglect my thoughts of the past.
My memory was a rubber rope around my neck, tugging me away from our future. And her lack of a memory was a wind machine, shoving her towards me.
It seemed as though the more open I became the more closed off she became. She was quickly adapting to my old behaviors of fear and anxiety and I hated it. I was all in and she wasn’t.
I was walking uncomfortably in the shoes she’d been in since coming out of her coma, and they were torturous. The tables being turned made me feel nothing but disgust towards myself as I realized how it felt to be locked out of a space you wanted nothing more than to occupy.
“I’m scared too.”
Her expression remained neutral. She was still policing just how much she gave me. “I know we said we would try.”
“We did,” I nodded, knowing my reply wasn’t necessary. At the same time I knew I had to say something that would stall whatever she would finish her statement with.
Fear weaved its way through my lungs making it nearly impossible to breathe. I didn’t like the way this was sounding. It sounded as though she was ready to change her mind and throw in the towel.
“But?” I pressed when she didn’t speak fast enough. I swallowed ready to drop to my knees and pray, or beg.
“I want to try.” She killed my agony and invited my comfort in. “But my instinct is to shield myself from you.”
I nodded my understanding. “I hurt you, I know.”
She looked surprised at my acknowledgement of my wrong doings. Declaring my villainy wasn’t exactly something I was known for. “But I don’t want to keep dwelling on it, Larry.”
“I–“
“I just wanna forget.” She shook her head. “It hurts to think about it.”
“I’m sorry.”
She huffed out. “Stop apologizing.”
“Tell me what you want me to do, baby?” I begged nearing desperation.
I was wondering blindly trying to make her happy, and for the most part it seemed as though I was failing. I didn’t know if I’d forgotten because it’d been so long since I’d put true effort into her joy or if I’d severed our connection so much that my attempts weren’t good enough.
“I want you come watch movies with me until we go out later.”
The request was simple and I fulfilled it with ease.
We’d laid on the couch watching TV and snacking on fruit. It was simple and it was perfect.
When it came time for us to get dressed to go out I had to force myself not to cancel. Staying in and doing nothing topped a night out on the town with ease but I’d already extended the invite. And, she seemed a bit eager to get out of the house.
We hadn’t be out on a date since her birthday, and I’d pretty much ruined that night for her so in a way I wanted to make it up to her. I wanted to redeem myself.
“I know this place.” She spoke, glancing around as I handed off my keys to the valet.
“What you know about it?” I replied, moving my hand towards her lower back as we walked.
“We used to come here – a lot.”
“Yeah?”
She looked at me, rolling her eyes. “You know we did. Why do you do that?”
“What I did?” I fought my smile as her scowl deepened.
“You ask questions and shit when you know the truth. You just wanna see what I know before I speak.”
“True.” I laughed. “Tell me what you know?”
Her telling me of her good memories always made me happy. The paint she used to craft the images was always fresh and vivid. The colors were saturated and the hues always worked to inject me with joy.
She chewed her lip and shrugged. “Not much. You get the short rib and I like those little fried rice poppers.”
“With the orange sauce.”
She grinned up at me. “Yeah.”
“It’s been so long since we come.”
We hadn’t come to this restaurant since we were on good terms. It had been well over a year, maybe two. This place had been somewhere we frequented a couple times a month and I was really hoping to start again.
“It smells so good,” She moaned as soon as we stepped into the warm establishment. “And it’s crowded – as usual.” She muttered, glancing around at the many people standing and waiting to be seated.
“I know.” I sighed. I’d had a taste for this place and knew Marlee would enjoy it but the wait that would take place didn’t really work with my hunger. “I go put us on the list.”
“Marlee… Larry?” The calling of our names and the familiarity of the voice was enough to make me turn around.
“Iris?” I knew it was her. The curiosity in my voice was faux, however the fear in my heart was real.
“Yeah,” She confirmed and the only thing that kept me from fleeing was Marlee’s solid stance and firm grip on my hand.
I could almost feel her curiosity radiating off of her body but I knew she wouldn’t say anything. She would wait until she was acknowledged.
“It’s been so long – too long since I’ve seen you guys.” She smiled a genuine smile. It consumed her entire face, making her glow.
I too wore a smile only it stopped at my lips.
“Oh my goodness! Marlee, you look amazing?!” My heart stopped when she addressed my wife.
“Thank you,” She smiled even as her eyes briefly darted to me.
I fought not to laugh at her confusion. She was doing a good job at masking it but I saw it.
Her fingers gripped mine tighter and I knew she was asking for a clue, a prompt, something… but I had nothing. The only thing I possessed in this moment was anxiety.
Iris was probably one of the only people we knew that didn’t know about Marlee’s condition. We hadn’t seen her in years and needless to say, a ton had happened.
I’d done well with informing everyone we knew that Marlee had suffered a head injury, resulting in amnesia. I’d combed through her call log and emails but Iris wasn’t on either list. She was merely an acquaintance but deep down I knew that if we didn’t leave now she would end up playing a much larger role in our lives than I needed her to.
“How’s your baby boy?” My heart stopped, and then exploded. “He has to be at least,” She paused, making it evident that she was counting. “Two by now? Yeah because my daughter is about to be two,”
I could feel each and every cell in Marlee’s body freeze. I was scared to look at her but I had to.
As soon as I caught her eyes I regretted looking. There was a neutral expression on her face, proving how good of an actress she was but no amount of acting could hide he anguish in her eyes. She was crumbling before my very eyes but somehow managing to stay upright.
“And I can’t believe how flat your tummy is. Mya destroyed my body.” Iris rambled on, oblivious to the detriment she was summoning.
I watched sadly as Marlee glanced down at her bared stomach. Her fingers followed her eyes , tracing over the space that once occupied our future. She looked devastated and it killed me.
With each second that passed her will to put on an Oscar worthy performance faded. Her pain was seeping through, proving that she was strong but not invincible.
“I–“ Marlee started only to stop.
Iris failed to notice my wife’s state. She was distracted and a quick glance in the direction that she was looking in explained exactly why.
“Xavier, look who’s here!” She spoke excitedly to her husband.
To my fortune he was distracted with the little pig-tail wearing girl in his arms. My stomach dropped and my eyes darted to Marlee who already had her eyes pinned to the toddler.
“I’m so sorry, Iris. We run so late. We have to go.” I rambled the lie, pulling Marlee away from the scene before it worsened.
I caught the shock on Iris’ face but ignored it. Explaining was pointless, as she wasn’t important. The only think that mattered right now was making sure that my wife hadn’t been impacted too much by the surprise blow.
marlee.
“I’m so nervous, baby.”
“You nervous for nothing.” He peered down at me. And through his stoic façade I was able to quickly spot the same anxiety that was infesting my every fiber.
I said nothing. Instead I nodded, giving him what he needed just as he was doing for me.
I needed him to be strong and he needed me to believe him. We were both doing the impossible.
“You look pretty,” He complimented, watching as I bathed my lips with a peach gloss was closer to clear than anything.
“Thank you, baby.” I smiled, watching him through the mirror.
I certainly didn’t feel pretty but I wouldn’t make the mistake of telling him that. If I did he’d bend over backwards, trying to make me believe that I was the most gorgeous woman in the world. He always did.
“You ready?” He quizzed as I brushed my hair out of my face.
It’d been straightened earlier in the week but was now reverting back to its natural state. It wasn’t the cutest but I didn’t have the time to tackle it.
“Yeah.”
“What’s wrong?” Larry peered at me from the driver’s seat.
I sighed, wishing the visual in my mind hadn’t been cut short. Where had we been going? Why had I been nervous?
“Nothing.” I looked in his direction, finding that his eyes were already on me.
His awareness didn’t shock me – he was always watching me. And, even when he wasn’t he still knew when something was hindering me. It was as if he could feel what I felt.
Our connection is what made me resent him the most. The fact that he knew how emotionally connected we were and still decided to hurt me killed me.
I told myself not to take it personally. I told myself that he’d acted out because he was afraid. I told myself that he really did loved me but didn’t know how to express it due to our jagged past.
However, I did take it personally, and maybe he was afraid but so was I.
I was terrified of not only the fact that he was all I had but of the concept of me exhausting myself, giving him all of me only for him to change his mind because he couldn’t let go of the past.
He opened his mouth and then paused. I watched as his hand moved to my thigh, massaging in circular motions. The movement was meant to bring comfort. However the comfort wasn’t for me but for him.
He was wound up. Tension was bleeding from his pores and tainting the car with its putrid scent.
“Larry,” I called, coaxing him to relax.
“I’m so sorry,” The last words I’d wanted to hear tumbled from his mouth. “I not know we were gonna see her and she say that and–“
“How do we know her?” His rambling was making my head ache.
“Umm,” My hand moved to his, massaging. It was for his comfort, not mine. “She live next door to us. She move because her army husband was stationed in Germany.” I huffed out. “You two were pregnant at the same time – that was her husband, and baby you see.”
“Oh.” I chewed my lip. “That’s nice.”
She’d had a baby, a healthy one named Mya and all I had was bitter memories and a pistachio painted room. It sucked.
“That’s nice.” I repeated, willing myself not to be envious.
“So?” I pressed impatiently.
“Baby,” Larry murmured, cutting his eyes at me and squeezing my head simultaneously. “Calme-toi.”
“It’s fine.” Cool laughter filled the room. “I understand your impatience, Mrs. Bourgeois.”
I kissed my teeth when all I received was a nod and again Larry squeezed my head, willing me to relax.
But I couldn’t.
Nothing about the situation was relaxing. It was scary and nerve wrecking. It was mind numbing and sent a brutal chill down my spine. It made my head ache and eyes water.
“Chinky, why you cry?”
“I’m not.” I swore, peering up at him from my supine position.
He wiped at my cheek, saturating his finger tips in the process. “Menteur.” (Liar)
“Sorry.” I whispered, watching as he brought my hand up to his lips.
The feeling of his lips brushing against my knuckles brought a smile to my face. Happiness folded itself within me forcing the clouds of sadness away.
“We good.” He swore, and I believed him. “Je promets.” (I promise) His voice was bright and mellifluous. It was perfect and exactly what I needed right now.
“Looks like we have a healthy baby boy.” The doctor finally spoke, completing the duet to my happiness.
-
“I’m not naming my son after my brother.” His expression was one of disgust and his voice was stern.
“Why not, baby? It’s such a nice name. I’ve always liked it.” I forked the last of my bûche de Noël into my mouth.
He shook his head defiantly. “There’s plenty of other nice names, Chink.”
“But that was is special.” I grinned, thinking of my brother-in-law.
“We name him Laurent we may as well name him Larry.”
It was my turn to frown. “They don’t even sound the same.”
“I know.” He spoke, wearing a straight face. “The only man my son get named after need to be me.“
“Larry is an old man name,” I grimaced then cackled when he gasped out.
“How you not like my name?” He was genuinely offended. “I make you moan it all the time.”
I smirked, wordlessly agreeing. That he did but it didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t naming my son Larry.
“Larry is like an uncle name.” I spoke after a few silent seconds.
His expression was a thoughtful one that morphed into humor. “I am somebody uncle so maybe this true.”
“Maybe Ian.” I suggested, moving my legs from the floor to his lap. “My feet are so fat.”
He glanced at my edema plagued feet but chose not to respond to my complaint. He was smart. Or just really good at this by now.
I sighed as he ran his hand along the tops of my feet and whimpered when he began to massage. His hands were a true gift from god. Not only had they aided in getting me pregnant but they eased the discomfort that came with being pregnant. I was forever grateful.
“Ian.” He repeated, only he managed to pulverize the pronunciation. “That can’t be the name.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t even say it.”
-
"Cinq,” Her voice warmed the entire room and drew my attention to the door where she stood.
“Oui?”
“Est-ce tout va bien?” (is everything alright)
“Ouais,” I nodded. “Je suis fatiguée. J'en sais pas pourquoi. Je passe mes journées à dormer.” (I’m tired. I don’t know why. I spend my days sleeping.)
I hated the sense of uselessness I felt. There wasn’t much I could do for myself, throwing my independence out the window. It was frustrating to go from being completely and totally self-sufficient to being dependant on people for even the simplest things.
I’d been put on bed rest and when I did actually try to be active I found it to be extremely uncomfortable. Things that I used to do with ease were now nearly impossible.
So here I was, seven months pregnant and in Paris – my favorite city. Yet, instead of scouting new spots to photograph or eating at my favorite restaurants I was being babysat by my mother-in-law.
It was frustrating but I knew better than to not abide by the doctor’s orders. My first pregnancy and it’s empty results had left me more paranoid than ever. I wanted this one to be healthy and easy. But life didn’t work that way.
I was diagnosed with preeclampsia a month ago when I finally saw my doctor about the headaches and swelling I was plagued with.
I’d been doomed, having not understood what I’d done wrong to have such a rare condition. I ate well, I exercised and I didn’t dare do anything too strenuous but here I was with an unhealthy pregnancy.
My doctor assured me that preeclampsia was something hundreds of thousands of women lived with but that information had failed to make me feel better.
And my research only dug me further into my worries.
The more I read the more afraid I became. Unfortunately for me, my fear worked in Larry’s favor. My fear made me cower instead of being my usual determined self.
Bed rest, diet changes and high blood pressure pills seemed to be all my life was consumed with lately. It was every bit of depressing but I told myself that as long as my child was healthy, and he was, that I would be fine.
“ J'ai cuisine,” (I cooked.) Her smile was warm and meant for my comfort. "Je sais que vous avez faim.” (I know you’re hungry.)
"Qu'est-ce que tu cuisines?” (What did you cook?)
"Quelque chose que mon garçon vous dire de ne pas avoir.” (Something that My boy would tell you not to have) Her sweet smile morphed into a mischievous one.
"Vous allez nous obtenir à la fois en difficulté.” (You’re going to get us both in trouble.) I warned even as waves of excitement rolled through my body.
I’d been here for over a week and I’d yet to experience the foods I truly desired. Larry was borderline militant when it came to my health. For the most part I didn’t mind. In fact, it made me love him more for caring enough about the health of me and our unborn son. But there were days when I felt extremely sensitive and hated everything about him.
On those days he was no longer my loving husband but my personal tormenter. To Larry’s fortune those days were rare. He hated it when I cried and would often promise to give me anything I wanted to satiate me – everything but potato chips, the one thing I desired most.
“Je sais,” (I know) She smirked. “Viens en bas.” (Come down)
“I’m coming.” I sighed, shifting my huge body on the bed. “I have to pee.”
She sighed out dramatically before heading to the door. ”Se dépêcher!” (Hurry up)
“Yeah, yeah.” I muttered when she was gone.
I took my time standing. As usual I felt tired and overworked when I should have felt well rested and energized. I slept more than a newborn yet whenever I moved around I felt as though I’d ran three triathlons.
I took my time in the bathroom. My quick visit to the toilette turned into me unbraiding my hair, filling in my brows and putting on lip gloss. I felt so ugly these days that I found myself doing any little thing to rid of my constant ashy appearance.
To my surprise and dismay Larry still treated me as though looked like Beyoncé. Sometimes it worked to lift my spirits but majority of the time I felt as though he was patronizing me.
I left the bathroom with a frown. There was nothing I could do to make myself look like the goddess I wanted to be so I decided not to waste any more time on the concept.
I eyed the steps with trepidation, wishing there was some way I could magically teleport to the first floor. My laziness was astounding but I tried not to beat myself up about it. I told myself it was directly linked to the preeclampsia.
“What you wait for, Bob Marlee?” Lau peered up at me from his spot on the first floor.
“For you to carry me.” I whined. “Nevemind. You’ll need like a crane or something.”
“Shut up.” He laughed as I moved down a few steps at a pace that would cause old ladies to snicker. “You not even that big.”
“Key word that.” I sighed. I didn’t have it in me to cop at attitude about his lack of tact. He wasn’t Larry, he didn’t care about my attitude.
The ache in my lower back forced my steps down the stairs to come to a slow. This shit is for the birds, I thought annoyed by all the ailments I was facing with this difficult ass pregnancy. If it wasn’t headaches it was severely swollen feet and limbs or backaches or random moments of blurred vision. It was all too damn much.
I took a deep breath, grasping the railing to support my weight as I stepped down. As soon as I moved forward my grip on the banister became no more, sending me teetering.
"Bob!” Lau exploded into action, halting my tumble.
My eyes were wide and heart was racing as I looked to him. I hadn’t even realized he’d moved from his spot, as I’d been so consumed with my internal complaints about what my son was putting me through.
I silently thanked God for his agility and speed because he’d saved me from a nasty fall. There were more than a few stairs separating me from the ground floor right now, making me wince at the imagery of what would have happened had my brother not saved the day.
“You okay?” Concern was the pinned against his face and oozing from his eyes.
I cursed silently, knowing he would tell Larry about this incident. I could see it now, them moving me to a bedroom on the first floor, everyone watching over me like a hawk – hell, Larry would probably order me a Hoveround. The thought made me cringe.
“Yeah,” I inhaled a hefty breath. That slip had scared me, sending my nerves into panic mode. “Because of the pregnancy I have carpal tunnel syndrome in my right hand and— AHH!”
A pain consumed my entire being before concentrating itself in my abdomen. “Fuc – what the fuck.”
I doubled over, holding onto Lau’s forearm as a few harsh breaths exploded from my lips. The pain was excruciating. It was hot and blazed a fire down to my bones. It was sharp and stabbed at each nerve individually.
“Bob!” His voice was muffled due to the cloud that was my pain but panic was blatant. “Marlee, what happen?”
“It hurts.” I managed through clinched teeth. It felt like acid was being pumped through my veins.
“Your labor happen right now?”
“No!” I gasped as million air knifes pierced my abdomen. “Ahh!”
“Marlee, please tell me what happen – maman!!!” His energy was shifting as he lost his will to hold it together. I needed Larry – no matter what he stayed calm.
“Pourquoi tu cries dans ma maison?!” (Why are you yelling in my house?) Her voice was drenched in annoyance. “Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé?” (What happened?) But it quickly shifted to panic.
I heard the steps creak under her weight as she raced up them as fast as her legs would warrant her. I wanted to warn her to be careful, she’d just fallen a few weeks ago, but my words were engulfed by my pain.
“Ce qui ne va pas?!” (What’s wrong?) She was inches away now. “Cinq!”
In rapid French I heard Laurent tell her that the baby was coming but that was the furthest from the truth. It was far too early. I wasn’t due to be induced for another 7 weeks.
“It’s too early,” I struggled through a heavy breath. “Too early.”
“Nous avons besoin de se rendre à l'hôpital.” (We need to get to the hospital)
A million thoughts went through my head. I thought of how I would contact my doctor back in the states. I thought of the fact that we hadn’t chosen a name yet. But my loudest thought was pertaining to Larry’s absence in this moment.
“Call Larry!” I screamed through the waves of my anguish. “My baby – my baby!”
-
“Larry, what did you do?!” I wailed.
“Baby, I –“
“What did you doooo??” My voice was shrill and full of every bit of the panic I felt.
“Please calm down.”
“No!”
“Mar–“ I was in front of him before he could finish whatever he planned to say.
My blow stunned him, stuttering his movements and making my next swing successful. “You had no right!”
I swung just as fast as the tears rushed out of my eyes. My heart was racing even in its crippled state. My head was aching and my body was sore – and empty.
“Baby,” He tried to calm me but still I swung, clipping his chin. “Fuck.” He hissed before successfully confining my wrists in his grip.
Without the use of my hands I put my legs to work, kicking in an effort to free myself from his grip.
“Stop!” He yelled at me, exchanging my wrists for my forearms. “You make you stitches break!”
His words were a warning that instantly reminded me of the sharp pain residing in my lower half. My lower body stung and throbbed but that pain was no comparison to the ache I felt in my every nerve, to the detriment Larry’s declaration had wrecked my entire body with.
With a sudden burst of strength I broke free from his hold, stumbling to maintain my stance. “Please calm down, baby.”
His words only flooded already raging flames with fuel. I swung again and then again, trying to break his chest in half, trying to access his heart so that I could stomp all over it just like he’d done mine.
“That was my baby!” I voiced the root of my angst with a roar. “My child – my future.”
“And mine too!” He snapped back, taking my punches without flinching.
“No! It was my choice, it’s my body!” I was trapped in his hold again.
His touch burned straight through my flesh to the marrow tucked away in my bones. Never did I think that him touching me would hurt but it did. In a matter of hours he’d managed to go from the love of my life to my enemy. He’d done the worst thing imaginable to me and I couldn’t believe it.
He was pure evil.
“How could you?” I rasped. “How could you, Larry?”
My body was sagging in his hold now. I was weak and achy and tired. I was broken – there was no way I could stand straight.
“I love you, Chink. And, I do what I think is best. I–“
“No!” Fire followed the word. It felt like acid but I’d experience worse, I was currently experiencing worse. “It wasn’t for the best!”
“I would have lost you. They say you can die!” He reminded me of what the doctors had told him as I slipped out of consciousness. “And I can never lose you. Never.”
“That was my baby, Lar.” I whimpered, falling out in his arms.
He supported my weight with ease and when I was steady, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine. “I love you too much to ever lose you, Marlee.” A kiss and then another followed his words. “I love you so much, baby. And, I’m so sorry.”
I’d lost count of the kisses he planted on my face. I was numb. His touch didn’t matter. His words didn’t matter. He’d taken the only thing from me that mattered.
“Why didn’t you save the baby?!” My anger separated us with a shove that sent him stumbling back.
“If I do, you die!”
“I don’t care!” I roared.
I felt dead now, how couldn’t he understand that.
He shook his head. “I couldn’t lose you.” And continued on with his selfish declaration.
“You took all I had. You took him from me–“ My voice cracked as the words fell into the silent room.
He stepped forward, reaching for me. “Don’t touch me.” I warned. “Don’t ever touch me.”
I watched him crack in half before me but it brought no satisfaction.
“I hate you,” I hissed as tears drenched my face.
And he withered away to nothingness before for my tear glazed eyes.
He felt what I felt, and the satisfaction was the most bitter thing I’d ever tasted.
-
i hate everything about you.
i am..i need a moment. this just wiped out my entire existence. lemme gather myself
blue light special
“Thank you,” I say softly as the bartender finishes my drink order.
My voice is easily drowned out by the music being played but I am pretty sure she can read lips. Her hand grazes my arm as I accept the cocktail from her. Under the ruby lights, her hazel eyes shine at me. She’s petite in stature with a crown of curly hair, the ends dyed a brilliant blue. She screams playful, teasing, and unpredictable at me all at once—without a single word. She winks at me before strolling towards the other end of her work station. Taking a gulp of the sweet concoction, I shake my head.
Not tonight.
A certain feel tugs at me as I lean against the glass counter, watching bodies turn and wind under colorful lights. It’s been pulling at me since earlier today. My last final was today and I figure I ought to be excited that I was done with the semester—and passing at that. But, as students chattered about holiday plans and destinations, the feeling began festering in the pit of my stomach.
It rolled about within me, causing me to deny plans with colleagues and ignore calls from my ‘special’ friend, Suzan. It spread through my limbs as I sat on the metro, swiping through memories in my camera roll. It only vibrated as I gazed at the smiles of my brothers and sisters, the sweet eyes of my mother, and the mischievous spirit of my friends.
By the time I’d reached my small flat, the feeling had made its way throughout my entire body. It caused me to play the heavily compiled zouk playlist from my laptop and miserably attempt to make callaloo the special way my mother only knows.
Still, nothing quelled it.
It took staring at my ceiling in deep thought, as the sun set, to consider going out. Maybe giving my evening to the debauchery of mixed drinks and thrill of flashing lights would wash away the incessant tingling. The ringing through my bones. The need.
The familiar music and dance style of this joint did seem to satisfy the tugging feel for a moment. I walked in feeling warm, excitement coursing beneath my skin. The short high wore off too soon. The authenticity was off. The faces were still foreign, the words still heavily colonial. I became annoyed, a dark cloud settling above my head. No amount of tackily named drinks could soothe my slight irritation. Staring amongst these people has only told me one thing.
None of this is home and I hate it.
I miss my pesky siblings. I miss my mother’s warm meals. I miss late night parties with my friends. I miss the live zouk performances. I miss the ocean. I miss breezy days and warm nights.
I crave something intangible, something that cannot be recreated.
Home.
My drink comes to an end faster than I want it to. I let out a short sigh, deciding immediately that I want another. I know I can take an Uber home so tonight inhibitions are nonexistent. I signal for the flirty bartender with a smile as I shake my empty glass. As she flounces over, a flash of brown blurs past my peripheral. It’s too rich to pass off. Too vibrant to ignore.
I glance to my right to find a group of young women giggling as they push towards the dense dancefloor. They all sing to me with their own special frequencies but one has the sweetest vibe I’ve felt yet.
She is smiling the widest as she clutches one of her friend’s hands. The way her bright red lip contrasts against her teeth is dazzling. My eyes dance from her charming features to her skin. A brown so deep that I’m instantly surrounded by warmth. Even under dim lighting, she glows. Glints of shimmer shine from her cheeks, to her shoulders, to her legs. Her endless legs. Her minimalist heels only extend them and I do not find myself complaining. Finally, my eyes land on satin chemise-esque dress she wears. The straps are thin and neck line high. It is black and loose fitting, stopping at her mid-thigh. It causes me to fantasize about the form underneath and what it’d look like without all that extra material floating around it.
She’s the first familiar entity I’ve run into all evening.
Just as she appears, she disappears among the other bodies. My first thought is to follow but a small tap draws my mind back to its prior reality. I turn towards the bar to find the bartender asking me if it’s the same drink I want again or would I like to try another. She rambles off some suggestive name and I shake my head curtly, raising my hand in decline. Before I can notice her surprised expression, I am already headed toward the dance floor.
As I slide between hot bodies, the music fades from its quick tempo of drums to a lulling strum of guitars and synthesizers. The DJ grumbles something into the mic but my mind doesn’t bother to pick it up.
I see glimpses her of dancing circles around her group of friends. One second it’s the sight of her eyes closed as she twirls about, then it’s a head of hair blocking my view. The next second, it’s a view of her back as she whines with another, then it’s an offbeat couple before me. Each obstacle heightens my desire to get closer.
I am right in front of her before I know it. Her friends notice me before she does. Their eyes are curious and bold, and with confidence, I accept their gazes. It’s only when she notices that her friends have stopped moving that she realizes my presence.
Her eyes are curious as well. Behind those dark brown irises is something so tantalizing I feel as though I can reach out and touch it. Roll it around gently in my palm. My actions do not know the words ‘hesitation’ or ‘caution’.
“May I have a dance?” I say, lifting my hand. Her lips part slowing into a sweet smile. I can feel my breathing accelerating.
“Yes,” she says, taking my hand without a thought.
Her heat combats with mine to create an inferno the moment we touch.
It all moves both fast and slow. I cannot recount how I was initially at the bar and then suddenly before her. But I can tell you we’ve danced for hours within one song. The feel of her in my arms feels innate. She follows my steps in sync as I follow hers. Our surroundings are a blurred mess as we move.
The lights of club fade to blue, causing a dangerous sight. Under the blue, the cool undertones of her skin come alive. The light tints her hair, glossing the tendrils framing her face. It swirls in her eyes, hypnotizing me.
It feels as though both of us are floating high on some type of fantastical aphrodisiac. She feels both firm and wispy beneath my palms. As complete strangers, we hold each other as though we’ve known love in another life. She feels like complete comfort. Her small hands span my back in slow torture, it both weakens and ignites me. The feel of her breath beside my neck drugs me.
My desire for her is almost other worldly.
Perhaps it is.
Our twirling comes a slow standstill, as my knee parts deeper between her sweet thighs. She welds herself to my thigh easily. The warmth, seeping from her through my pants—where she is rightfully seated, shoots a fiery light within me. It’s white and unmerciful. Our hips are used for mass destruction with each rotation. Every spin, dip, and thrust steals a breath from her. Steals a breath from me. Until we’re surrounded by a cloud of our pants of satisfaction. The intimacy fogs my mind and prickles my body. Erotic is too uncouth to describe this moment.
This is the living embodiment of sensuality.
Confidently, she presses her forehead to mine, her nails gently scraping along the back of my neck. Her eyes look directly into my soul as she brings her face closer to mine. She holds the sweetest countenance against all others. The dew on her skin is of nature, the disarray of her belongs to chaos.
I fall into her effortlessly.
I don’t know which one of us succumbs first but a spark flies as our lips touch. It lands on the ground, lighting an entire blaze around us. Her lips are soft. My words falls too short to explain properly. I squeeze onto her, reassuring the reality of it all. The grip excites her, causing her tongue to dip forward. I grant entry without a moment’s notice.
I let her consume me.
Flawed as humans, we pull apart for a deep breath. My eyes barely open. I see dancing lights. Swirls of holographic cyan and soft pink. They burst, dart, and ripple. I’ve elevated to another world and I don’t want to leave. Her eyes are half cast as well, a shy grin on her lips.
I’ve found home.
Time stands still as we both wonder what the other is thinking.
Our thoughts are clearly aligned as we melt away from the lounge and into the brisk evening air. Hearts thudding, blind feet leading the way.
guys.. honestly, don’t come into my inbox with bullshit unless you’re ready to leak your latitude and longitude. i have an inkling that its the same troll ass bitch gleefully checking the anon box. i mean, i would hope that there’s not multiple hoes that don’t like my ways.
i don’t know what the issue here is… i’ve shown nothing but humility throughout my time within this fandom. every comment i receive results in a thank you.
is it a problem that with my appreciation comes confidence? should i not state how amazing i am? or how #mywork slays? because it literally fucking does!
NO, i don’t have NYT Bestseller but what i do have is a mind and an understanding of the english language, meaning i know good shit when i read it. and, I WRITE GOOD SHIT.
i’m not ashamed to think or say that i’m the best. and i think it’s very healthy for people to carry that trait in any capacity.
there’s a difference between saying, i’m better than you and i’m the best and i really think that some of you lesser ass bitches are confusing the two. however, i won’t be bothered with your personal issues and lack of self-esteem.
i was gonna turn off my anon feature but there’s a lot of you who truly do enjoy #mywork and enjoy the concept of interacting without a face. i don’t wanna ruin that for you guys.
BUT you other ass bum bitches who talk unnecessary shit can dive into a pool of bleach with your eyes open.
if you have a problem with me or my responses, go read something else. there’s plenty of other writers who are sickening around these parts.
P.S I really think yawl like seeing me react because of my sickening .GIF collection.
P.P.S @lt-fanfics sis, don’t you have an IP search thingy that erases the concept of anonymous?? if so, leak it to me cause i’m exhausted.
Congratulations to all the winners! There are so many talented ladies in this community and this is a great way to show accolades and appreciation! Also, a huge *virtual* hand of applause for the admin(s) at @lt-fanfics for taking her (their) time to set this all up so beautifully.
LT Fanfic Awards: Part 1 of 8
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