Well hello there. How did you find yourself on this part of the internet? Mhm. Eitherways, welcome. It is I, supportvelkoz, although I go by many names. Ana, Tom, Lily, David are the four main ones people call me, although that last one hasn't seen much use since April 2014 so I don't know.

I write mostly dark stuff, a direct result of my gift (curse?) to write directly off my emotions. That also means that cheerfulness and fluff comes to me rarely, and hard. But when they do, I write pretty happy things!

I neither smoke nor drink, but I am convinced I would fall in love with both and be quite the addict if life pushes me further along. I enjoy the company of older people; always a pleasure to have around, and I really do not mind if you want to do stuff with me. Anything. I'll listen. I will comply.

Thanks for dropping by and I sincerely wish you find what enjoyment you can in my works.

Until next time, have a good one folks!

I play LoL on garena, IGN supportvelkoz, maining support. 480 ranked games as of the 3rd month of season 7. Current rank Gold 5.

I also play Starcraft on SEA and Americas, Battlenet Gate#1123. Unranked but I can hold my own against platinum-ranked players- to a point. DO NOT ROACH RAVAGER ALL IN ME GODDAMMIT jk.

Interests: Reading, writing, powerlifting, dance, poetry, Starcraft, shoutcasting.

Orientation: I literally fall for everyone. Still yet to decide if that's good or bad.

Tidbits:

(rant)

Just me going on and on about what inspires my writing. Rated M.

-The Death of Innocence-

8 years ago, I was stopping over at a little drinks-shop in Binh Duong, Vietnam, with my grandmother. We were riding a hired motorbike, doing 50km/h on the fucked up highway, but life was grand. To call it a shop would be a severe overstatement, for it was- like the millions of other such establishments in Vietnam- just a few plastic tables and chairs sprawled under the shade of a particularly large tree with the vendor selling soft drinks straight out of dubious-looking containers containing God knows what.

But that was not the point.

We were on our way to my grandmom's younger brother's farm, this sprawling 20 hectares compound where there were dogs (ooooh who's a good girl~), pigs, crocodiles and chickens. At the time, there was just one other customer. It was this older- I was nine at the time and everyone still looked big to me- looking girl (she was...16?17?) wearing very dirty, bedraggled clothes. As I began babbling on and on about Digimon; I was really into it for whatever reasons, I noticed that she kept stealing furtive glances at us. Or rather, at me. And making frightened litten noises. Wat? I thought. I'm not that scary; I'm just a really thin kid lol.

The shop owner gave the girl a packet of instant noodles and gently told her to go away. Holding the plastic package in her hands, she shuffled off.

She had no shoes.

My grandmom and the shop owner began to talk.

It was only much, much later that I realized they were talking about the girl. In seventh grade (Vietnam 13 years old) she was raped by a local man. Her family did not discover it until after she had been several months pregnant. She was forced to undergo a brutal abortion, from which she never recovered. She was, is... crazy. People have been taking advantage of her since, young men dragging her by the hair to some dark corners of the village to force her legs apart and take their pleasure from her. She survives on her family's reluctant duty to take care of her and what shreds of kindness one can even find nowadays in this world. In Vietnam, the weak don't last very long.

God knows what she's doing now.

I would take care of her and love her if she shows up on my doorsteps today.

And while yes... not everyone can sympathize with rape victims.

But trust me, I would understand.

-Silence is Consent-

The most cliche thing I have ever had the chance to experience- in literature and otherwise- was to be touched and not like it.

I didn't like it at all.

Admittedly, I have had many, many fantasies about being touched in such a way. Many scenarios where I imagined how my first time would be; roses, chocolate, stuff...

Not like this.

Not against my will.

But then again, I was staring off to the side, quiet. Accepting. After a while, I started whimpering. Whimpers and moans, there were no difference there, right? That's what people would have me believe. And since I never said anything, she took it as a yes, and had her fun anyways.

So I was an adult now.

Honestly, I had hoped it wouldn't be like that but... she praised me for being good and made me promise not to tell anyone so... I listened.

To this day, I question my life choices.

But it's alright. I'm still here. Everything's okay.

Fuck yeah.