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I re-read a story I wrote some time ago. Then I decided to write some more. If this post's format screws up on 7chan then I apologize, this is my first time posting here.

Since some people may want or need to track this story or other stories I may post, I’ll go by the pen name "Rachael Avarie" here rather than Anonymous. This is the first story/writing I’m sharing with the world, so feedback is especially appreciated.

I considered writing this in first person, but I may be switching point of views, so I’ll stick with third person. I’ll also be writing with spacing between paragraphs because I’m not sure if websites such as this will allow for tab indentation. I’ll leave no line spaces between multiple quotes except between some extra large paragraphs, and will merely use a double star ** to indicate a new speaker, as necessary. Double inverted commas indicate speech; single inverted commas indicate thought, normally. Now although this story is rated as science fiction, I’ve made an effort to make it seem as realistic as possible. I’ve tried to make the character reactions to the unnatural as accurate as a real person’s reaction would be, though at points I’ve had to tone it down to forgo to write too much “gasp, shock, horror, ugh!” character reactions. Hints: the first chapter isn’t very erotic, but the second chapter will have scenes that, hopefully, ‘deliver’ (if you know what I mean ;)

Splurb: Julia is an ordinary 17-year-old girl. She gets implanted with a biological creature that attaches itself to her and starts growing. Don’t want to put too many spoilers here otherwise.

Tags: tentacle(s), f/f, f/m, science fiction


Chapter 1

Tuesday, school was out. Julia Sharinotte hated this walk home. That wasn’t to say it was sleazy, nor impossibly far, but something seemed off about one particular building. She’d be damned if she was going to walk around the block, however. Julia walked swiftly, ignoring the sights and the smells around her. Her mother was a quarter Japanese, though they’d all been born in the US. She considered herself an average girl, definitely of average height, though prettier than average, with long dirty-blonde hair, pale blue-green eyes. Her face had a touch of freckles, and she had B-cups, wrapped onto a slender, 17-year old frame. Her best friend certainly didn’t consider her average; she was always gushing about how gorgeous she was, about how unfair it was that she didn’t have to wear makeup. Oh Julia wore makeup, the tiniest amount she considered healthy, but she hated eyeliner. In her opinion, it destroyed a person’s face, more often than not.

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yea cool game

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well I made this myself on MS paint hope you like it

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The make-believer phonies broke through the glass ceiling so many times they've finally reached the gold ceiling.

But prices being so inflated means there is so much more control.

It's reasonable to presume some of the weakest currencies (notably, around the Egypt region on multiple continents) are going to begin failing.

I'm just trying to help. But duplicate paper copies... Silly way to rule the world.

Also, I think the silver couplings busted last week. Mischievous ghosts. Bye bye Long John Silver.

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Ironic coming from lolcow farm, since I criticized femcel culture and they BAWWWWWleted all my posts and not just banned, but PERMABANNED, me.

Hola

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Posting something I found on the internet followed by random stuff I tried to make that looks awful

Another Saturday, and my 'guest' was still playing her strange game. Wherever I went, she followed, gaze unwavering. It was a predator's stare, so out of place on that little wisp of a girl, but I was used to it by now, and I barely noticed anymore. It's amazing what you can get used to, given enough time. It had been more than a month since she'd levered herself into my home and life, and she had yet to speak a single word. Having seen what I had, I was inclined to let her keep her silence. Living without conversation was no great burden for me, so I'd eventually managed to regain some sense of normalcy. I gave each task my full attention, pouring my focus into every action. I made a ritual of yet another mundane task as I made us both eggs and french toast, as we ate in silence, as I cleaned up after. I didn't notice at all how my shirt's too-big collar slipped, careless, down one slender, pale shoulder. I didn't watch as she licked daintily at a spot of syrup on her delicate finger, her eyes never leaving me as she slid it between her lips. I pointedly avoided noticing the way a lock of her hair, dark and straight and silky smooth, only slightly mussed despite the night's sleep, fell across her cheek in a way the begged my fingers to brush it back behind her ear. I was so busy not noticing that I damn near missed my mouth with my next bite, and the laughter danced behind those deep dark eyes, so deep you could drown in them, so dark they might as well be black.

I finished quickly, then stood, taking my plate. I could do just as good a job not noticing at the sink as anywhere. I didn't take her plate for the same reason one does not take an antelope from a feeding lion. She'd leave it when she chose, syrup and powdered sugar scattered like blood and offal, but I'd deal with that when the time came.

I spent the morning in the studio, along with my exra shadow. I'd packed up everything but the old Bride of Frankenstein to ship out on Monday. To tell the truth, I didn't really have anything left to do, but it was a grand old poster, and I enjoyed looking at it. Ray had sent it to me faded, folded, and dog-eared, but it had still been a beautiful poster for all that. God knows where he'd found it, but that was his business. I just made her pretty again. She'd fetch $200,000 at the very least, if I didn't miss my guess. The way the market had picked up lately, and with Ray running the auction I wouldn't be surprised at all if she went for double that. I spent an hour or two making a few final touches, but I was mostly running on force of habit. It had been done for a few days now, I just liked looking at it.

On the way out, I passed an empty canvas. That was for my own work. I hadn't done a project of my own in months now. I kept meaning to, but it never seemed like the right time. None of my originals ha Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

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