#'little' he is 4 ft 9 pounds

[toesuckler]

ough my little baby boy

[despacito-uwu16]

The Exposition

Kenji Sato x Journalist! Reader

Enemies To Lovers | Forced Proximity | Pining

start Next ->

“I don’t think they’re ready for the fall, had a little, and now she wants more. Told her I gotta make some calls, This just might be one hell of a night”. - The Walls by Chase Atlantic

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The sports section has always been your favorite part of the newspaper. Reading about athletes making history was so inspiring. This is what ignited your interest in sports journalism. You’d get involved in the school newspaper in high school, almost covering all the sports. You were always on a high, but it came crashing down when you entered college. Entering the Daily Bugle as the only female reporter has its downside. Your male peers would always look down on you, trying to discourage you from touching sports. Quoting your editor in chief, “Leave the sports reporting to the men who take it seriously, and report on something simple, like the upcoming musical”. But you were determined to make your mark in the world as a sports journalist.

You were staring at your computer for the last ten minutes trying to figure out the perfect conclusion for the basketball article. Your eyes wondered towards the time on the upper right hand corner.

4:40 pm

“I’ll finish it during english”.

You shut off your laptop and slid it in your bag

Your evening class is on the other side of the college, and unfortunately, you don’t own a car or a scooter so you have to walk 15 minutes from your dorm to your designated building. On your way to your class, you would usually pass by the baseball field, where the baseball teams begins to prep for the season.

While walking by the baseball field, you hear the sound of baseballs being hit by bats, the whistles being blown by the coach and the players yelling at each other to run.

As you continue your walk down, you hear a baseball being whacked and cheers from other players.

“Way to go Sato”! One person cheered.

You see the baseball fly over the fence, but before you could move out of the way, everything went pitch black.

~

Moments later you wake up in a bright, unfamiliar room. Your head was pounding, and a cold pack was sitting on your forehead.

You try to sit up, but you felt too dizzy.

A woman, who you assume was the school medic, came up to you and helped you sit up.

“What happened”? You ask.

“Isn’t it obvious? You got hit with a baseball. You were out for almost 5 hours”. She said.

“Oh”. You look down, feeling embarrassed.

“Young lady, you shouldn’t be walking near the baseball field. Especially when there’s practice going on. You’re lucky it’s just a mild concussion”. The medic lectured you.

“It’s the only way I get to my class”. Then your stomach sinks. You look at the clock.

9:32 pm.

“Fuck, I missed the lecture”! You cussed in your head. And then the realization settles in.

“FUCK I MISSED THE DEADLINE”! You groaned while you bury your head in your hands. You can kiss your journalism dreams goodbye.

“I don’t care what excuse you have. I swear, you college kids are so careless. As soon as you’re able to, get out of my office and try to find a ride home”. She puts another ice pack onto your head and leaves you to wallow in your misery.

“Well, isn’t she delightful”. An unfamiliar voice says.

You look up to see a 6 ft tall guy with raven hair leaning against the door frame.

“Dorthy is usually snappy at this point. I wouldn’t take it personally”. He enters the room and approaches you.

“Can I help you”? You ask

“I wanted to apologize to you, for accidentally hitting you with that baseball”. He scratched his neck.

“Oh, so that was you”. You glared at the guy while fixing the ice pack on your head.

“Yeah, I guess my strength was too much”. He laughed, trying to lighten the mood. You were still unamused.

“It’s a little late, shouldn’t you be heading home”?

“I wanted to know if you were okay”.

“Aww how thoughtful”.

“I’m Kenji. Kenji Sato. Baseball rookie today, baseball legend tomorrow”. He brags.

“Kenji… aren’t you the same Kenji that scored 5 home runs in a row at that one game against Florida state two years ago”?

He smirks. “So you’re a fan”.

“Not really, but I remember it made headlines for the school paper . You’re pretty impressive for a freshman”.

“For a freshman huh”? He laughs.

“Hey, it’s a compliment pretty boy”. You lean back into the chair.

“You know, I never got your name pretty girl”.

“Y/N. Y/N L/N”. You extend your hand and Kenji shook it.

“Well Y/N. I want to make this up to you. Y’know, I haven’t had dinner yet. You maybe want to join me?”

“Sure. What do you have in mind”?

~

“Wait, so that was you who broke the dean’s window”? Your eyes widened.

“No one knows aside from my buddies on the team. Consider it an inside scoop”. Kenji winks.

The waiter sets down a pepperoni pizza down on the table. The smell of the sizzling meat and cheesy goodness reached both of your noses, making both of your mouths water.

You guys ate all of the pizza in under five minutes. More of Kenji eating everything considering his metabolism. A few minutes later, he pushed the dish aside and leaned back in his chair.

“So Y/N, why journalism? Specifically sports journalism”? He interogates.

“I used to be apart of the school newspaper back in high school. Something about watching the games and interviewing athletes has always peaked my interest. If you ask me, it’s better than reporting on politics or school plays”. You sipped on your water.

“Ahhh, so you’re nosy”.

“Y’know if it weren’t for us being nosy, you wouldn’t get your 15 minutes of fame”. You say, making Kenji chuckle

“So, any articles you’re working on”?

“Well, I wrote one on basketball team but I missed the deadline because somebody knocked me out with a baseball”.

Kenji shrunk down into his seat. “Sorry about that. Really”.

“Don’t worry, I usually don’t hold grudges.”

“Well look on the bright side, you got a new story”. He says.

“Aspiring journalist gets knocked out by the famed Kenji Sato”.

You laughed. “As much as that would make a really great story, nobody at that the Daily Bugle takes me seriously”. You sighed, playing with the straw inside your cup.

“How come”? He raised his eye brow.

“According to my editor, and to all the men at the daily bugle, “leave the sports to the men”. You quote.

“That sounds pretty toxic. You deserve a chance to show the world how crazy talented you are with words. You deserve better than that place you’re in Y/N”.

“As much as I want to, I’m willing to stay. I’m very determined to prove myself. Even if I have to get my hands dirty”.

“You are persistent”.

“I prefer ambitious”.

“I like ambitious women”.

“Sure you do”.

~

For the last few weeks, you kept seeing Kenji. He would walk you to your classes, bring you coffee when you had a bad day at the Daily Bugle. Whenever he didn’t have baseball practice, you two would either go out for dinner or hang out at your dorm. There was something about his company that never made you feel lonely.

You came to one of Kenji’s games. Not as a reporter, but as a supporter. Despite being a little sad that the editor will never let you write for the sports section, you showed up for Kenji.

“And here comes number 7, right on the bat”. The announcer says as he walked up to the home plate.

You watched in concentration as he got into position. Everyone’s eyes were on him, hoping he would bring them another win. The pitcher throws the ball and Kenji knocks the ball out of the park.

“AND ITS ANOTHER GRAND SLAM BY KENJI SATO! GIVING THE BUGLES ANOTHER WIN”! The announcer shouts into the microphone.

You cheered the loudest for Kenji as he ran through all of the bases. He made eye contact with you and winked at you, making you blush a bit.

~

You were leaning against the wall of the locker room, waiting for Kenji to come out. All of the baseball players were outside cheering and screaming like animals, celebrating another win.

“I didn’t expect you to come”. You hear Kenji say. He walked up to you, his duffle bag in one arm, and his helmet in another.

“I’m an aspiring sports journalist. Of course I’d show up”. You walk up to him.

“You played well today”.

“Thanks”

You and Kenji walk out of the stadium

“So, any plans after this”?

“Well”… You began to think. “I was thinking about heading back to my dorm, curl up in bed and watch TV”.

“Damn, I was planning on asking you if you wanted to come back to my place, but if it’s that important to you, then who am I to stop you”.

“Well, that also doesn’t sound like a bad idea. But shouldn’t you be with your team, celebrating”? You gestured to the group of men screaming like chimpanzees.

“I don’t usually go out with the team. Win or loose”. He puts his helmet on and walks over to his bike.

“Wow, didn’t take you as an introvert”.

Kenji turns in the ignition on his bike.

“Are you coming or not”?

~

You were at the kitchen in Kenji’s apartment fixing him a grilled cheese and popping a bottle of wine as a reward for Kenji’s hard work. As you set the grilled cheese on the plate, Kenji immediately grabs it and takes a bite.

“Wait, it’s still”- But before you could warn him, the burning sensation has already hit Kenji’s tongue. He yelps at the sudden burn. Tears well in the corner of his eye as he throws the grilled cheese back onto the paper plate.

“You should’ve waited for it to cool down”. You scolded.

“Hey, I’m just really hungry. Cut me some slack will you”? He says, drinking his wine.

“Awww are you crying”? You notice the tear threatening to slide off his face.

“What? I never cry”. He crosses his arms.

“It’s okay to cry every once in a while”. You laugh as you swipe the tear off with your thumb. He leans into your touch as his onyx eyes fixated onto your (eye color) orbs. He leans closer, both of your faces inches apart from each other. And out of the blue, Kenji’s lips landed onto yours. You kiss back, tasting the red wine aftertaste. He lifts you up on the counter, and you wrap your legs around him. The air around you gets hotter, as it turns into a male out session. The next thing you know, he carries you into his room and shuts the door behind him.

~

You woke up with the sun hitting your eyes. Realizing that you were not in your own room and not wearing any clothes, the panic begins to settles in. You tried but there was a strong grip around your waist You turn around to see Kenji sleeping peacefully next to you.

“Oh no, this is bad”. You panicked. If your peers at the Daily Bugle hear about you sleeping with an athlete, they’ll never take you seriously.

You slowly got out of bed, trying your best not to wake up Kenji. As you got out of his room, you were attempting to put your 3 inch heeled boots back on, accidentally kicking the wall in the process.

“Shit”. You muttered while putting on the other boot.

You quickly slipped out of Kenji’s apartment without waking him up, already arranging your ride home.

While waiting outside the apartment building, you remembered what Kenji said, about you deserve something better than the Daily Bugle. Kenji was there for you and now you’re just leaving him. Screw what everyone thought of you. You liked Kenji, and it’s clear that he might feel the same. You went back up to his apartment. When you were about to knock, you noticed the door was slightly open. Peeping through the crack, you see Kenji talking to another guy that was probably his roommate.

“Dude, what happened to you last night? You totally ditched the team again”! The guy asks.

“Let’s just say I scored another one last night”. Said Kenji.

“Oh shiii, Kenji you dog”! His roomate laughs. “Who was it? Was it Tiffany from sports psychology”?

“No”.

“Rosalie from the dance squad”?

“No. Hint: she’s apart of the Daily Bugle”.

It took his roommate a minute, then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“SHIT YOU DID NOT”.

“I did”.

“You do realize people look down on stuff like this, it’s like an integrity thing”.

“I know, which is why that scores me double”.

“But if word goes out, the coach is gonna have your head”

“It’s not like anyone has to know, anyways she ran off before I could officially walk her out. I wasn’t too attached to her anyway”. Said Kenji.

“But don’t you still care about her”? His roomate asks, a bit of hope glimmered in your eyes.

“Pfft no, she’s some that I accidentally injured. I take her out for pizza one time and she still thinks I’m taking her seriously”. He laughs.

You stood there dumbfounded. The whole time Kenji was just using you to increase his body count?

Before you could hear any more of the conversation, you left the apartment building. You entered the taxi, tears threatening to spill. To think that a guy, let alone an athlete, actually respected you. You were stupid to believe that you had someone care about you.

A fire ignited in your belly that day. You were determined to prove all of the men wrong, to prove Kenji wrong. Even if it meant hurting him, and other people to get yourself on top.

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated!!

A/N: I had a posting schedule for the week, but due to wifi issues, posting will be every 1-2 days until I get back to the US

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

Tag List:

@imconfusedbutok @deadbydad-writes

@introvertthief @rdjsprincess

@boomboom-tanjiro2019 @moyadorogaya

@holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @lovingyeet

@ofichan @nina-from-317 @lunaryasha

@kocho-catt @scarsw1fe @aphroditis-world

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

[tainted-liquor]

'Exchange With Me...꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ft. Pavitr Prabhakar

...‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Ingredients: sugar, kisses, and a lil bit of smiles!

TWs: Makeout, Implied that you're not rlly supposed to be kissing pav?

A/N: reader has an unlabelled relationship with pav?

part 2 to 'exchange with me'! You're gonna need to read that first bae lol

It had been 9 months since you gave Pav a tour of Brooklyn, showing him all the hidden hole-in-the-walls and best places to go to get food. As he spent more time around you and your mom, he polished his English in a fascinating amount of time and became more social than before. Admittedly, there were some awkward little bumps in the road regarding you being his 'host', and the occasional lingering stare or two. Or maybe it was how your hugs got tighter...or how your hands tangled themselves together almost every time you were within a foot of each other. But that came with the close proximity and comfortability levels! Shit, you shared the same bathroom, learning the hard way to always shower with the shower curtain fully closed.

These were normal experiences for two people living under the same roof! It came with the package of having a 'stranger' in your house, so you weren't bothered by anything, really. "Pavi, can you pass me the remote?" You asked as flopped down on the couch, hoisted your left leg across the entire couch, and slumped down as comfortably as possible. Pavitr side-eyed you, looking your slouched form up and down before sporting a playful scowl. "Oh, word? So you come into MY HOUSE. USE MY COCONUT OIL-" You began, tone increasing in volume as you laughed with each syllable. "AAAH, I SAID I WAS SORRY!" He yelped, immediately handing you the remote with a loud laugh and an apologetic smile.

"And move over you're taking up the whole room" He joked, picking you up like you weighed nothing and placing you further to the right. "Damn, what the fuck?! You lift?" You gasped. You stared at him with pure shock, and yeah he did have a 'strong' physique, but it was nothing over the top that screamed 'I can casually lift a 122-pound girl with one arm and a tiny bit of willpower'. “Uhh…I guess!” He smiled, immediately returning his attention to the TV without another word and urging you to pick a show. Odd, but that’s fine!

"So what we watchin'? The news, Netflix, random show?" You inquired while surfing through the many applications on the Roku box. "Uhhh...Something random I don't mind" Pav shrugged, throwing the cream-colored couch blanket across his body and fidgeting with his headband. You clicked the random button, watching as 'We Lost Our Human' began to illuminate the dark living room. You weren't really watching the show, instead, you put mini blue butterfly clips in your twin afro puffs while holding a conversation with Pav about different types of food and seltzers, working up an appetite in the process. "D'you wanna go make food? I got like...some ingredients up in the fridge." You shrugged, straightening your posture before scrolling through your phone for an easy recipe.

"Yeah, this show isn't really...that entertaining." Pav shrugged, immediately raising himself up from the couch as he loomed over your phone screen to see what was nearby. "I can make us some soup though!" Pav beamed as he eagerly ran into the kitchen, grabbing various vegetables and herbs, and getting to work immediately. You sat next to the stove on top of the counter, watching his beautiful knife work as he finely chopped up 4 onions. You lifted your knees to your chest, fluffy grippy socks hanging onto the marbled counter as you stared inside the big red pot he currently had on the stove, muttering a tiny "What you bouta make?" Pav smiled to himself, keeping his eyes on his cutting board as while he spoke, "French onion soup! I saw the recipe on TikTok and I wanted to try making it!"

Your eyes widened in amazement and shock, tilting your head to the side. "You can do that?" You asked, watching as he replicated a recipe from absolute memory. He nodded, tossing butter, salt, pepper and a little bit of a maggi cube into the pot along with the onions. You watched the pot intently, letting the gorgeous aroma of aromatics and onions invade your senses while Pavitr watched you. "You're very pretty" Pav blurted, putting his knife down on the cutting board, leaning his head on his hands and admiring your angelic features.

You muttered a bashful 'thank you', beckoning him to come closer before you began making little braids in his hair. There was no noise other than the quiet sizzle of the caramelizing onions, and your synced heartbeats. You ran your hands down his face, cupping his cheeks in your palms and giving them a small squeeze before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. Pav giggled, cute little canines poking out of his grin as he snapped his eyes shut at the ticklish sensation. He mirrored your action, kissing your 'third eye' and pecking at the tip of your nose.

You spent the next 15 minutes in the kitchen, consistently checking on the slow-cooked onions and bantering back and forth. It was adorable. The atmosphere was full of that warm and fuzzy 'home' sensation and somehow felt like the world around you didn't exist outside of the blissful comfort of the kitchen. You helped him the rest of the way with the soup, adding the beef broth and red cooking wine to the mix and letting the pot simmer for an hour or so. Pav suddenly broke the silence as he peered over the lid, watching the condensation cloud the glass cover.

It was peaceful, and that's how you liked your humble home to stay. There was no real confirmation, and you liked it like that for the most part. While things were slightly more complicated due to you being Pav's host, that didn't necessarily stop you two from wrapping your arms around each other and coating your faces in small kisses. This time was different though. Your hands were loosely wrapped around his neck while his hands found purchase on the small of your back. There was a consistent rhythm and pattern to the kiss that you found yourselves trapped in. The soup was long forgotten on the stove as you giggled into each other's mouths like children.

"I think I'm gonna stay in Brooklyn!"

"Pav I think you should check on the soup."

"OH!"

Taglist!

@ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @sp1derw1re

[mermmarie]

The Red String of Fate

Authors Notes: So, I had been thinking about this idea for a while, and admittingly I started this ahead of OC x Canon week, but the idea fits perfectly for the Day 3 prompt: Soulmate. So please enjoy chapter 1 of my Red String of Fate fanfic featuring Donnie!

Pair: Donatello x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Rating: T?? (Although, characters depicted are adults)

Content/Trigger Warnings: Mention of blood.

||Chapter 1|| ||Chapter 2|| ||Chapter 3|| ||Chapter 4||

-----------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1: Cosmically Bound

The Red String of Fate was a fairy tale you didn’t believe in anymore. A long time ago, yes, but after so many rejections, heartbreaks and betrayals how could you now? It was silly to even consider it a possibility in the first place. Just the idea that two people could be romantically bound by some magical, crimson colored thread was ridiculous. Especially when there was a zero point zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero three percent chance of it happening to anyone, let alone you.

While it was a fantasy you daydreamt about from time to time, you understood that it was just that; A fantasy. So, when you noticed a string of red laced around your ring finger, your first initial thought was that your head was in the clouds once more, dreaming of the impossible. However, the usual trick of closing your eyes and shaking your head of the thoughts only made the fantasies disappear, but the little red string remained. 

You straightened in your recliner, head cocking curiously as you focused your gaze on the thread. You flexed and curled your fingers, thinking that the illusion might disappear if you were to physically affect reality, but just as before, it stayed. A small gasp escaped your mouth when you lifted your hand into the air and the string extended. Following the red thread, your eyes grew wide with disbelief when it pointed out the window that was lined up next to your chair and suddenly all the dull sounds of New York were drowned out by the pounding of your heart in your ears. 

Somewhere out there in the bustling city was your soulmate. 

-----------------------------------------------------

SCANNING.

UNKNOWN PERSON NO.1

SEX: MALE

HEIGHT: 6 FT 0”

WEIGHT: 190 LBS

OBJECTS ON PERSON: SWITCH BLADE 

SCANNING.

UNKNOWN PERSON NO.2

SEX: MALE

HEIGHT: 6 FT 2”

WEIGHT: 211 LBS

OBJECTS ON PERSON: CROWBAR

SCANNING.

UNKNOWN PERSON NO.3

SEX: MALE

HEIGHT: 5 FT 9”

WEIGHT: 173 LBS

OBJECTS ON PERSON: BOX CUTTER 

Fittingly, Unknown Person No.1 had struck first, then Unknown Person No.2, but Unknown Person No.3 had decided to stay behind. Possibly a strategic tactic to fall back and assess the situation first, but it was more likely that he was just a coward. Although, his Sensei had taught him that a wise man was able to recognize when he was beaten. Unfortunately, none of them were wise. Just foolish thugs thinking they had the upper hand in the situation because it was three versus one. 

The realization came quickly to Unknown Person No.3 however when Donatello easily disarmed and knocked out his fellow associates. The whites of his eyes became more evident as the lean turtle approached him. His shoulders inching upwards and nearly touching his ears while he attempted to put on a menacing scowl, but by the way his teeth clattered against each other the front was obvious. Still, like a cornered rat, fear driven adrenaline compelled him to make a move, despite having already witnessed how that turned out for his comrades. 

Donatello effortlessly maneuvered out of the way of his first attack, and prepared himself to counter in the midst of his recuperation but faltered after having noticed something peculiar… 

As his metal staff spun between his large green digits, he saw a contrast of red on the smallest finger of his left hand. For a split second he assumed it was blood, thinking he somehow had been wounded in his scrap with the other two crooks, but there was no open gash or cut present on his hand. His eyes narrowed behind his goggles to focus his vision on the stark color and he brought his appendage closer to his view, nearly forgetting that he was in the middle of a fight until a familiar voice called out to him.

“Donnie!!” They warned and he flinched. Fear striking him when his gaze snapped to the short blade of the box cutter that was being thrust towards his face. Luckily, years of reflex training had him move just in time to avoid a critical injury, but he didn’t go unharmed. Unknown Person No.3 managed to nick him on the top of his cheek just below his left eye. Ignoring the sudden appearance of red momentarily, he turned his attention back to the thug and spun his bo into his diaphragm.

Another one of his Sensei’s lessons about ‘ never underestimating his enemies ’ and ‘ to remain focused during battle ’ echoed in the purple-coded mutants’ head and spite burned between his brows. Just as the man recovered from the air being knocked out of his lungs and he lifted his head, Donatello smacked him across the face with the tip of his staff. The man finally falling to the ground and unconscious. 

Bastard.  

Before he had time to inspect his injury, his cold-colored brother was at his side with his hands on his shoulders.

“Donnie, are you okay?” He asked, but didn’t wait for his answer. Instead, he moved his hands to his face, maneuvering it into a position where he could get a better look on the cut of his cheek. His normally, cool-blue eyes we’re blown up with a look of fear that Donatello didn’t witness often, and it had him reconsidering the severity of the attack. However, the anticipation that built in his chest subsided when Leonardo’s gaze softened. 

“Bad news; it’s gonna scar. Good news; you’ll finally match the rest of us.” He smirked. 

Donatello huffed and pulled his face out of his brothers’ hands. Pushing his goggles to the top of his head and sheathing his bo staff to his shell. 

“What happened back there, Donnie? I kind of expect Mikey to lose his head in the clouds but not you.” He pressed. 

Donatello grumbled and dropped his gaze. He could feel that his eyes wanted to wander back to his left hand, but he was almost too afraid to look. As he swung his final blow on the assailant, he caught the crimson color in his view again and recognized it for what it really was. He had heard of the ‘Red String of Fate’ as a myth. A legend, a rumor, an old wives tale. There had been some speculation of it happening to people throughout history, but no scientific proof. And Donatello wasn’t the kind of guy to believe in something without seeing it first hand for himself. 

So, if he didn’t look at it, that would mean it didn’t actually exist… Right?  

Uncertainty pulled at the corners of his lips as he extended his hand in front of his brother and splayed out his fingers. A bright red string wrapped snuggly around his smallest digit. Leonardo’s eyes widened again as he stared at the thread, but this time he looked with confusion. He brought his gaze back to him expectantly and naturally, he opened his mouth to explain.

“It’s–” He started but paused when he realized how silly it would be to speak of it out loud, let alone embarrassing… “Um–”

“The Red String of Fate.” Leonardo finished for him. 

Donatello’s brows arched with surprise. “Y–You know about the myth?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily call it a myth now.”

“Oh. Right…” Donatello lowered his hand and his gaze fell with it. His eyes locked on the red string in deep thought. He curled and flexed his fingers, speculating that the construct might simply vanish if he were to tamper with its existence. But as he turned over his hand, the tail end of the string extended and pointed into a specific direction away from the both of them. The two cool-colored mutants straightened in attention, but stayed silent as they looked off in the distance. 

Eventually, Leonardo broke the silence with a question that had Donatello snapping his head back to him in disbelief. 

“So… We gonna go find them?” 

“ W-What?!” The lean mutant exclaimed and cringed at how his voice cracked. His cheeks immediately turning a darker shade of green. 

Leonardo couldn’t help but to smile, albeit a bit sheepishly. “Okay, the way I worded it was a little– weird. ”

“ Ya think? ”

“What I meant was, don’t you wanna– investigate a little? See who your cosmic soulmate is?” The blue clad turtle shrugged. 

“No!” He covered the red string on his hand with his other, as if that would snuff out his brother’s questionable curiosity. 

“What do you mean?--”

Donatello groaned tiredly. “I don’t even know if I believe in this!” 

“How could you not? The proof is right there!” Leonardo pointed at his hand.

Cautiously, Donatello lifted his right hand just enough for him to peak underneath it. Checking to see if the little red thread was still intertwined around his finger. It was of course and he groaned again.

“Okay… I suppose I can’t deny its legitimacy but–” He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip. 

Out of the twenty-million residents who lived in New York, fate had decided that he, a mutant ninja turtle, was to be romantically bound to another. Who they were or what they looked like, he had no clue, but statistically thinking… His ‘other’ was most likely a human being. And from his experience, most human beings didn’t react positively to the fact that he was a nearly seven-foot tall, bioengineered reptile when they first saw him. He doubted that it would be any different in this case.

Even with the literal string attached.

“I’m not ready.” He paused again before adding on quickly, “To see them yet that is.” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and averted his gaze from his brothers’. 

Leonardo stared at him in silence, and it felt as if he was trying to burn a hole into his head. As if to get inside his mind and find out what he was really thinking. Just as it was beginning to feel like too much, he finally spoke.

“Alright.” His arms flopped against his side and he turned away from him, looking in another direction. “Let’s tie them up and head home then.” He gestured to the thugs with a cock of his head and started to walk off, but Donatello reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him from going any further. 

“Leo,” he started, but licked his bottom lip in hesitation. “Thanks… And please don’t tell Raph or Mikey. Especially Mikey.” 

An amused puff of air escaped Leonardo’s nostrils. “I won’t say anything to them, but you know Mikey’s gonna be upset when he eventually finds out. Probably cry about how it didn’t happen to him instead.” 

Donatello hummed in agreement and for a split second, he kind of wished it had happened to his orange-clad brother instead. At least then he’d be able to observe the phenomenon from the outside and record his findings on the matter if he were to experience it for himself. Normally, he didn’t mind going into things ‘ blind ’, metaphorically speaking. It was part of being a scientist, figuring things out through trial and error. But with this kind of subject? He’d prefer to have some knowledge on how to go about it. Unfortunately, he was on his own. 

Turning to follow his brother, Donatello took one last look in the direction the red string pointed off to and wondered if you were having the same troubling thoughts? Then, the idea of you looking for him crossed his mind and it pushed his focus back to the round up. The last thing he wanted was for you to find him in the middle of the night, amongst bodies of thugs, and with a bloodied face. 

[aaronburrdaily]

May 22, 1809

Couche at 12. Rose 1/2 p. 6. Breakfast at 8. Always sweet rye bread and very bad butter, of which the pound will last us a month. Have eaten nothing, nothing but this bread, since Friday. At 11 called on Hartshorne and Slade; then home. Dr. Domcier, physician to Duke of Sussex and physician to his B.M.¹ for Hanover, called during my absence. This is the missionary of the Philosophic Society of London. Heuland, and soon after, Charles Forsfell, lieutenant topographe² called; though we were dressing, both sat, and we continued our toilet. Agreed to meet the Lieutenant at 6 in the King's Garden. At 3/4 p. 2 to Dr. Gahn’s to dine. We were late. Dinner was on the table. Y: J.G. Gahn; Madame ———, jol.³ blonde, married fifteen days ago; sa soeur M’lle ———, aussi belle et interessante; chev. brun enfoncè; touche la harpe superieurement⁴; their brother, a very handsome and genteel young man. At 6, to the Garden to meet the Lieutenant. He was not there. Madame ——— and M’lle Gahn de Falun came in with the son and daughter of Dr. Gahn; walked with them 1/2 hour and met the Lieutenant. Went with him to the puppet show; very well for such a throng, but very silly for Gamp. Auprè a tres jo. U. Un arran. ft. mais manq; ne scais par quoi.⁵ Home at 9. Tea. Mem.: Wrote to Mr. Achaud and sent the letter to Hedboom to be forwarded. On coming to Dr. Gahn’s to-day, the little Eva, who speaks not one word of French or English, ran and seized me around the neck in the most affectionate manner. She talks to me a great deal, and imagines that I understand every word. She is one of the most beautiful and interesting children I ever saw. The dinner was sumptuous, and would, in any part of the world, have been thought tres bien. The forms, as before, except that soup followed immediately the salt herring. Three of the ladies very sprightly and animated in conversation. An officer of the rank of ——— remarked to me that I spoke French much better than English, and inquired which of the European languages the native language of the Americans most resembled!

1  Britannic Majesty? 2  Topographer. 3  For jolie blonde. 4  Her sister, M'lle ———, also fine looking and interesting; dark brown hair (fonce); plays the harp in a superior manner. 5  For Auprès une très jolie U. [jungfru?]. Un arrangement fait, mais manqua; ne sais pourquoi. With a very pretty maid; an arrangement made, but failed; I know not why.

[the-firebird69]

IT Is Back in the First 'Welcome to Derry' Footage

A huge bull did they found off of Charlotte harbor is being investigated right now it actually is and they're sending teams there and this movie is tied in with it it is it chapter 1 and it chapter 2 it's a serious with pennywise and secretly pound foolish and it has in it the statue from Paul about Paul Bunyan it's actually a Paul Bunyan statue people didn't put it together but this place is in May but really it's actually in New Hampshire but it has a similar reputation it is about woodsman and not necessarily Paul Bunyan and that whole area used to be harvested for trees a long time ago in New Hampshire over and over and it was kind of near the ocean about 40 or 50 miles away and it was very handy they were building ships a lot of ships were built up there and a lot of lumberjacks lived and work and ate there. It has to do with his dad and it's symbolic he used to do a lot of work as a leather jack when he was supposedly younger it was in Maine and he was big and he was not one of the Paul Bunyan cuz they're famous for using huge ox but he was a famous lumberjack and he was about 8 ft or 9 ft most of the time and they'd find him Ewing most of the time cuz that was his job and his son knows that's cutting the limbs off and his clan had him doing that quite a bit and eating peanuts was another symbolic gesture and he used to do it a lot. It's kind of an odd thing because they came up with this a little bit and they're talking about door and window installation they bring up the lumberjack and no sign of supposed to believe and he's doomed and stuff like so we looked at it and said it's one state down from where he was doing the work and they're talking about Massachusetts and Connecticut and such Rhode Island so Dan and Daniel that is was trying that kind of thing to kidnap him and say that he the second old man. And now they're saying it's the analogy and they're annoying. There's a bunch of people who say it's like Rome and they can't identify where that is your son would say Pennsylvania but still he came back from that and he's been through Pennsylvania and they said that. Then they say a tunnel in the United Kingdom then they say is a ton of Boston but that's not what united Kingdom stands for. The UK is something that stands by itself but it's true they're saying it's the New Kingdom and when they would have taken it back or a signal to do so.

So the sun says I could go pick my money up and use this gross analogy we're thinking about that and it's true. We don't think anything would happen cuz he's not Christ and they have a different plan but we do think that the max might have a plan to do that later and then again I can't seem to find us and they don't know it's down there for real and it's trying to find it and that would be their kind of thing to do and it would be holding him in a hospital and they be trying to put him into a tomb and they would hold him and we know where they probably would want to put him as a matter of fact we know where they would plan to put him and people are angry about it and it'll be somewhere in Lexington and to try and draw her out so that's what they're saying and we get the idea it's probably the pyramid and it is to try and make what happened to JC and Mary and it might be this idiot Trump and he's thinking about it he says so the idiot wants to drive the taxi again

Thor Freya

No I don't want to drive the taxi again I don't understand what you're saying in the airport limo and it probably would be to the bank because it's so much money and that bank account is like 4 million dollars and they send a limo and stuff and he say I want to ride in a van might be the way he goes Jesus Christ I'm saying it so what he says his people saying in every few seconds and I do see the the game and it would be beantown and their idea failed years ago and I suddenly see what you're saying yeah you can't send yourself to save yourself and he says maybe so I got to tell you something you've heard that one we have heard that one and we've heard it quite often lately and we're wondering what the hell they're talking about so go out and we're checking and there's this s*** on the street he's supposed to know about these huge things in there yours and stuff what we say is weed don't know if there his people or if he has children or so we can't really do that and hello we're trying it doesn't seem to work and people are saying it you would be The driver and stuff like that and this is starting to be horrible so that's what I want to say is what the hell that would be all excited another One bites the dust and it's not really funny

Trump

I don't want it to happen either I'm probably the idiot in the passenger seat and say he's shrunken down this is going to be awful he's got proof and I don't want to see this stupid s*** it seems like Ellie might contract into it well I'm sorry Eliza Minnelli and dragged into it not contract

Dave

Olympus

This is f****** stupid but we're going to run out the f****** losers doing this s*** Jesus Christ it's not the two dummies cuz they didn't even driving

Mac daddy

Oh boy. This is wrong but really we should point it out this is a bunch of idiots doing this stupid s***

Ben Arnold

[bike42]

Tuesday July 4, 2023

Happy Fourth of July!  I’m delighted, for the 3rd time in my life, to be in a National Park on July 4th (2012 Glacier, 2014 Yellowstone, 2023 Glacier)!  For me, being immersed in a National Treasure like this is better than fireworks!

We had heavy rain last night after we’d returned to the tent, and awoke to an overcast moist morning.  Breakfast was a warm dish of rice with sugar, cinnamon and probably canned apples - it was warm and someone else planned and prepared it!

Apparently, the campsite Todd and the Rawhousers’ ended up with had a river run through it and they were drenched overnight.  Due to that, we had a later start (10:30a).  Jeff and I shook out our tent the best we could, but it felt 5 pounds heavier today!  We hung out at the food prep site and chatted with other hikers while we waited for the others to get packed up.

The weather cleared up, but forecast said storms after 3:30p so that kept us moving along today.  We followed the Belly River, stopping at a beautiful waterfall (Dawn Mist).  We took several “pack off” breaks including time for delayering.  My feet were just a bit damp when we started (same socks as yesterday) but they didn’t feel bad or cause any trouble.  I actually felt great all day and hiked close to Todd who is a nonstop wealth of information - plants, animals, park history, etc.  We sure hit the jackpot again with our guide!

We forded Mokawanis River, most of us walking barefoot using poles to steady ourselves.  The water was refreshingly cold, the bottom was flat pebbles, and the current was strong.  We ate a lunch of peanut butter on pita with dried bananas and enjoying the river, flowing out of Copsey Lake (named for the first Ranger at Glacier).  He named these other lakes as well:  Elizabeth, Sue, Helen and Margaret (not after daughters according to Todd).  While we were eating lunch another Glacier Guide came by with some of his group.  Apparently, some in his group struggled yesterday so he changed his permit to stay two nights to allow R&R for the group, and several of them were out just for a short day trip.  Both he and Todd had been baseball pitchers and got into a rock skipping duel, the likes of which I’d never seen!

We saw several other couples, but we’re off the CDT and Alternate CDT routes now for a couple of days.  We arrived at our camp at the foot of Glenn’s Lake (foot) a little after 3pm.  It was nice to get to camp and get everything dried out!  Also to have time to chill out. 

There is just one other couple at this camp, a really nice couple from Boulder.  They went out into the lake, which prompted Tam and I to try to take a quick dip.  The lake had a very long shallow portion, so by the time we’d walked out to the deeper water, we were already frozen!  We dipped up to our shoulders, which took all the bravery I could muster!  We walked out quickly and toweled off, feeling like pins and needles, yet very refreshing!!

We had an early dinner @ 5:30pm.  Afterwards, Jeff and I played a game of Cribbage but mosquitoes made us stop at one game (our box of cards was destroyed from being in the bottom of my pack, but Todd had a set of cards).  Tam and Dan were down at the lake in search of a moose and came back reporting beaver sighting!  We were just about to turn in, but we went to the lake with the others and we were entertained by a busy momma beaver (obvious teats) - eating willows along the shore just a little ways from us.  She seemed to know we were there, but ignored us.  After she swam away Todd walked through there and then she slapped her tail.

As we retired, the predicted rain hadn’t happened yet, just some rumblings in the distance.  I read for a bit, and at 9:30p - the storm came with gusto: thunder, lightning and heavy rain.  I put in my ear plugs, covered my eyes with my mask and snuggled into my sleeping bag (still a little chilled from my lake dip).

6.35 miles, 542 ft elevation gain, 4 hours

[thecreaturecodex]

Grevan

Image by Anthony Carpenter, © Kenzer and Co.

[Hey! A Hackmaster 5e monster that’s not a animalistic quadruped facing left! Most of the humanoids in the first 5e Hacklopedia are takes on traditional D&D fare like gnolls, goblinoids and orcs, but the grevan is an interesting giant kin. We get several pages on the development of their culture and different subsets within, which I’m not going to get into. I like them as a different take on the “evil elves” trope, as if Romulans were religious zealots and also nine feet tall.]

Grevan CR 8 NE Humanoid (giant) This humanoid stands half again as tall as a human, with pointed ears and chiseled features. He wears leather armor and carries finely made gear.

Grevans are sometimes called “elven giants” or “giant elves”, as they combine features of both these races. Instead of being a crossbreed of the two, they are descended from elves that were devoted to violence and warfare above all else, and were rewarded by their dark gods for it. Grevan society has absorbed weaker, dumber giants like ettins, trolls and ogres, which are often found among them as disposable troops and heavy laborers. The grevan language is a creole of Giant and Elven, and a speaker of either of those languages can understand Grevan with a successful DC 15 Linguistics check (if both languages are spoken, only a DC 10 Linguistics check is required). Their tongue notably has no word for “peace”, only “pause” or “weakness”, and they view warfare for its own sake as the driving force of their civilization.

Grevans will often attack targets that have little value to traditional military strategy, but serve mystical or sacrificial purposes in their rites. Grevans hold sacred an entire pantheon of gods, each of whom is worshiped for some facet of the art and craft of warfare. The only members of grevan society who are not expected to fight and die are the very young and very old, who are put to work in order to support the war machine. Grevans value slaves for their knowledge and skills as well as for labor, and do not casually kill and eat them the way hill or frost giants may. This does not make any slaves truly members of the society, and even the most valued and loyal slaves are often turned into living shields if a grevan base is under attack.

In combat, a grevan favors the application of overwhelming force if possible. They are as skilled at range as they are in melee, and usually attack with a volley of arrows from ambush. They do not hesitate to close the gap, however, and a grevan’s position in their society is measured by how many kills they make in combat. They fight dirty, and grevans often use false retreats, traps or hazards on the battlefield, and attack resting or recovering forces. Grevans will gladly fight to the death, viewing death outside of combat as shameful. As the grevan proverb states, “he who is without enemies is lost”.

A grevan stands about nine feet tall and weighs nearly seven hundred pounds on average. Their life expectancy is shorter than that of elves, with venerable members of the species reaching 200 years of age, but few grevans live that long before dying in battle.

Grevan                      CR 8 XP 4,800 CE Large humanoid (elf, giant) Init +9; Senses low-light vision, Perception +13 Defense AC 21, touch 16, flat-footed 21 (-1 size, +5 Dex, +2 natural, +3 armor, +2 shield) hp 102 (12d8+48) Fort +8, Ref +13, Will +7; +4 vs. mind-influencing effects Immune fear, sleep Offense Speed 40 ft. Melee masterwork longsword +15/+10 (2d6+6) or slam +14 (1d6+6) Ranged masterwork composite longbow +14/+9 or +12/+12/+8 (2d6+5/x3) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Statistics Str 23, Dex 21, Con 18, Int 13, Wis 12, Cha 8 Base Atk +9; CMB +16; CMD 31 Feats Alertness, Deadly Aim, Iron Will, Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Rapid Shot Skills Climb +15, Craft (bows) +11, Perception +13, Sense Motive +4, Stealth +11, Survival +11 Languages Common, Grevan SQ heart of war, weapon training Ecology Environment cold and temperate grasslands Organization solitary, pair, raid (3-12) or settlement (20-100 plus 50% noncombatants) Treasure standard (masterwork studded leather armor, masterwork heavy wooden shield, masterwork longsword, masterwork composite longbow [+5 pull] with 40 arrows, other treasure) Special Abilities Heart of War (Ex) A grevan gains a +4 racial bonus on saves against mind-influencing effects and a +4 racial bonus on Initiative checks. Weapon Training (Ex) A grevan is proficient in all swords and all bows.

[tempestsreach-blog]

Fuck Diet Culture

This is going to be long.  It’s going to be rambly.  It’s going to be sad.  It’s going to be angry.  There’s going to be language some people don’t like. I can’t NOT talk about it though. 

Fuck diet culture.  Let me say that again.  Fuck. Diet. Culture. It has taken such a huge chunk out of my life.  I have lost pieces of myself I’m not sure I’ll ever get back.  The only way to heal is to go through.  I can’t go back.  I have to move forward.  But I can’t do it quietly.  I can’t hide.  I can’t live in the same shame I’ve spent the last 40 years in.  Literally.  40 years of my life wasted to this.  I can’t bear to live the back half of my life in the same way.  What the hell is the point? I’m not going to write this in any particular order because all of the thoughts and feelings swimming around are snapshots of things in my life that diet culture has broken in me or stolen from me. A lot of you aren’t going to agree with me.  That’s okay.  Truly.  This is about ME.  This is to help ME heal.  You can talk to me about your struggles, your diets, your ups and downs, your successes and whatnot.  I am here for you in all of it. But I won’t diet with you anymore.  Never again.

Currently I am having severe knee pain.  One knee is worse than the other, but both are bad.  I should go to the doctor.  I should have gone to the doctor years ago for it.  Want to know why I didn’t?  My weight.  I have injuries from overuse and over exercise and I am terrified that I am going to go to the doctor and the first words they’re going to say are “Well, if you lost 20, 30, 40, 50 pounds, it probably wouldn’t hurt so much.” instead of listening to me, examining me, scanning my knees and HELPING me.  I don’t feel this way irrationally.  This shit happens.  I am in pain.  I don’t know how to get help without being told to go on another diet that will not work.

Because diets don’t work.  Not long term.  I am excellent at losing weight!  I’ve done it over and over and over.  Then I stop restricting, counting, starving, and pushing myself.  Then my body says “What the fuck were you doing?” and puts it back. I lost the ability years ago to know whether I’m actually hungry or not.  I eat too fast when I do eat because if I snarf it down super fast I can get it in before my brain says “You’ve had too much.  Did you count those calories?  How many miles on a treadmill will you do to make up for that?  Did you actually earn this meal?”

Every time.  Every meal.  Every morsel.

I have never been officially diagnosed with an eating disorder.  Only been told by therapists and psychiatrists that I definitely engage in disordered eating.

No shit.

Every diet under the sun.  Cabbage soup.  Phen Fen.  Weight watchers (MULTIPLE TIMES), TOPS, Noom, My Fitness Pal calorie counting, intermittent fasting,  and every whacky bullshit thing in between promising results.  I’ve purchased fancy scales.  I’ve even tried one that wouldn’t show you your weight, but the color of your progress in the app.  Here’s a hint… if you gain, your color is black like death.  I’ve failed a million times and I’ve blamed myself.  I am the failure.  So I hate my body a little more every day and I stress about how I’m going to NOT pass my disordered eating and my food issues onto my kids.  My stress levels are through the roof and 98% of it is diet culture related. What the fuck is that about? Every time I start a program I hit it hard.  Last time I tried anything involving tracking or counting I was so starving by the time I got home from work that I almost ripped a child’s head off (not literally OBVIOUSLY) but I screamed at her at the top of my lungs because she hurt my feelings.  It wasn’t until after finally allowing myself to eat another morsel of food that I realized I was hangry.

Why is living in a larger body not acceptable?  We all talk about diversity and equality as though we believe it with our whole hearts, but that doesn’t cross over to fat.  Or skinny if we’re really being honest.  How many times have you heard or seen online “Oh my god, she’s so skinny.  Feed her a damn cheeseburger!  She looks anorexic.”  I know I have.  I know I’ve said those words.  I will punch myself in the gut if I ever say them again.  

Every body is different.  We are supposed to be.  Let’s not BLAME genetics like it’s a bad thing.  Let’s realize that it’s what nature has intended.  My father is over 6 feet tall and a large man.  He’s just a big man.  He went on Nutri System when I was young, lost a ton of weight, and put a bunch back on over the years because he is a big man.  My mother was not tall, but was always large.  I hated her body because HER PARENTS told her all the time she was fat and unworthy and cautioned me not to grow up to be like her in any way.  Even when she was poor and homeless she was still large.  That was the way her body was.  I wonder how different her life might have been if the size of her body hadn’t been a factor in the way she was raised or treated.  How might that have made my life different?

I know a lot of you are probably rolling your eyes at me right now about being vocal about another health plan or saying to yourself “just because you have trouble with diets doesn’t mean they don’t work”  I know there are people close to me thinking “She just always gets excited when she discovers a new diet, that’s probably what this is.”  NO.  

This is me finally realizing that I can heal and healing doesn’t mean I need to weigh 157 pounds. (That’s the weight limit for women my height to enter the air force when I did in 1992) This is me finally realizing that I’ve been lying about the weight on my drivers license for 30 years because gods forbid anyone saw my real weight on that document. This is me realizing that I’ve spent my life trying to live up to other people’s ideals of what I should look like because I assumed they wouldn’t like me otherwise. This is me realizing how much unintentional harm I could have been doing when sharing another diet, another idea, another bout of “well this is working really well for me!” with people I care about. This is me realizing how much damage I’ve been doing to myself living with this level of shame for 40 years. Hiding what I’m doing.  Suffering in silence.  Hiding food. Restricting.  Binging.  Over exercising to compensate.  Spending money on one last diet.  Spending emotional energy on one last hope. We were in Las Vegas for what was supposed to be a fun vacation last week and I was so hot and miserable and so steeped in hating my body because my painful knees were betraying me that my internal monologue was a never ending loop of “I’ll hit weight watchers REALLY HARD when we get home and get rid of this weight, then I’ll figure out my knees and work on maintenance” Let me say that again, clearly.  I struggled to enjoy my vacation because I was obsessing about restricting food AFTER my vacation. One last time.  One last meal.

BULLSHIT.

We walked by shops with weird and pretty fashion dresses. (I freely admit I don’t understand fashion) the husband and I would both point out ones we thought were pretty.  My brain would get stuck on “Yeah, but they don’t make them in my size” or “Yeah, that would NOT look good on me.  It looks fine on that size 0 mannequin”  Pretty on other people.  Other people are pretty.  Not me. Diet culture is pervasive and all consuming.  In big ways and little ways.  I’m 5 ft 9.  I’m not a tiny person at any weight.  I’ve always been told I’m too big.  Even when I sit, I slouch a little and/or tuck my legs and feet up under me to try to make myself appear smaller and less invasive.  This is subconscious.  I don’t always realize I’m doing it until my knees remind me. Most of my life has been things that get in the way of my diets.  “I should start the diet today, but it’ll have to wait until next week because so and so’s birthday is this week and I want to be able to enjoy that.”  or “It’s late fall, I should just start now but first there’s my birthday, and then Thanksgiving, and December happens and there’s all kinds of treats then.  Better wait until January, but not the first because that’s new year’s...maybe the following Monday.” or the ever popular “I already had a bad eating day today, I’m a failure.  Why bother?  Fuck it.  I’ll try again tomorrow.”  That one was always followed by binging because of the last supper mentality.  If I’m starting a diet tomorrow I better eat EVERYTHING NOW. This is how I’ve lived my whole life.  The time not spent dieting was just the time in between diets where I was planning my next diet.  So much life wasted.  The only time I was not actively dieting or planning the next diet or suffering from “I’m just too exhausting to put effort into food right now” was during my 4 pregnancies.  I let myself eat whatever and whenever because I was nauseous all the time anyway and something in my brain made me fuel my body for the babies. When the youngest was born and the on call doctor who delivered her told me I was too fat to have my tubes tied I definitely started planning diets again in that moment.  I believe now, years later, that my diet and diet culture ruined mind and body is part of what kept me from being as successful at nursing the kids as I wished I had been.  I assumed my body was broken and not good enough for my babies.  The last time I lost a LOT of weight it was because I didn’t want to ruin someone’s wedding pictures.  True story.  This was nothing that person felt or anything they told me.  IT’s what my brain said to me.  It’s how I de-valued myself.  There are very few current pictures of me now because I’ve been stuck in a place where I feel shame when I see them. When I’m dead, memories and pictures are all my kids and grandkids will have, and I hate myself too much to let anyone take them. That’s not okay.

I dream about food.  I daydream about food.  Food I “shouldn’t” eat.  Food I “should” eat.  When to eat.  When not to eat.  Every spare ounce of energy is spent thinking about food or hating myself which leads to more thinking about food. I am not in a place where I can prepare dinner for my family right now because it’s too hard to put that much energy into food.  I force myself to pick the recipes from the app and get the shopping done via instacart so all anyone else has to do is pull up the recipe and make the food.  If I’m looking at the ingredients or trying to prep anything I stare at every individual thing debating whether or not I “should” eat it.  This is going to take me a long time to break free from.  Today I finally feel like I CAN break free. There is nothing wrong with being in a large body or a small body.  Food is not good or bad.  Food is food.  I have to say these things.  I have to repeat them to myself or I fall down the rabbit hole again.  None of this is work anyone can do for me.  I have to live it.  I have to work through it.  I have to figure it out. If you read this far, my statement stands.  If you’re on a diet, I will listen to your woes and hold your hand and I will not judge you for it.  This was very hard to write because I am certain some of you who believe in diets, ways of life, and wellness eating may block me now because I spoke my mind.  I’ve clung so tight to the people I love and refrained from being honest and speaking my mind for fear of abandonment.  I’ll have to live with it if that’s the case here, because people sometimes need to do what’s best for them.  Airing this out is one of those things for me.  It’s a scary thing for sure. I also want to say that I’m happy for this to lead to discussion.  I’m not going to shut anyone down for wanting to talk to me about this.  I am always open to learn new information and see different perspectives.  Just know that if I’m emotional and feeling a lot of strong things about how my life has been up to this point, and I am entitled to believe what I believe just as you all are.  I’m happy to share sources and books I’ve been reading on the subject.  They are not diet books.

Here’s to doing better from here on out.

Here’s to finally being free.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Friday 16 March 1838

7

12 ¼

fine morning F40° at 8 ¼ am and breakfast in about ½ hour – then a little while with A- out at 9 – went to Listerwick pit – Holt not come – then to Mitham – told William Mallinson that the less he [exceeded] the estimate (1 years’ rent = £30) the better but that he might make himself comfortable remembering that he must pay 1/6 the pound additional rent for all laid out above £30 -  then Jonathan Mallinson came to me about his holme trenching – then to Listerwick again – Holt not come – staid till after 12 talking to George Naylor and planning about the tubbing – I proposed the plan mentioned to Holt yesterday and likewise which last I preferred making the pit circular in the bottom and putting in frames and fixing batten-tubbing to these – calculated and either way all new stuff would cost about £100 – then to John Oates’ and stood talking to him near an hour – his plan the best and least expensive – he was sure the fire-damp had nothing to do with forcing out the planks – it was all the pressure of the water – 15ft. deep pressure of water a great force – he would put 4 stays in each side of the pit

1 in the scale below the stone

2 in the stone

1 above the stone

2 stays at each end of the pit one in the stone and one below. the stays in the scale under the stone to be oak plugs 3ft. long and 1ft. square – the other stays to be 1 1/2in. square of iron let into the stone as far as could be well managed – a good screw hole to be made in the iron so as to admit a strong turn-up holder to fasten down upon and hold fast the plank

Told John O- all were to meet on Monday about the engine he thought £500 not too much for the total expense of 8 horse power engine, and better to have 8 horse than 6 horse power – mentioned Mr. Bull and his heavy charges but did not tell the amount – came home about one – then sometime with Robert Mann + 2 at the home footpath draining and sinking (Jack and Benjamin putting covers on the embankment drain and levelling after Georges’ cart with scale from Listerwick on the embankment road to the pedestals gates) – George Naylors’ cart went home at noon, it was so rough – had brought 10 yards drain covers this morning and then scale from Listerwick with George and my own cart – David Mann senior and junior filling – came in about 2 – a little while in the west tower – then out again till called in about 3 to Thomas Greenwood – came to know if I had done with the road thro’ the corner of his field to the glen – yes! should have nothing done while I was away – said he had signed his agreement for the Northgate land, and as he had to pay taxes for it all, wished to know if I should object to his putting some

SH:7/ML/E/21/0061

mahogany logs upper where the shops are to be – said I had thought of Mr. Crossland having the use of that bit – I would speak to him about it – T- wanted the Conery Ing fencing off – yes! the gardener should plant a hedge and he (TG.) should double rail it on both sides – he would do it at from 9d. to 10d. a yard finding everything agreed – said I should than turn it over to him to maintain till the hedge was grown sufficient to do without railing – agreed – he had only £30 bid for his mare on Saturday – by auction – Mrs. Bamley buried today – he heard A- was opening out stone that would be 12ft. thick – G- is selling ashler at 9d. per cube ft. but did not seem to know what the stone should be worth per ft. deep and 1 yard square of superficies – I said Mr. Stocks was settling at 1/. (the latter quantity of stone) – but I did not think S- rich – no! said G- he has too much borrowed money – has fifty or sixty thousand pounds borrowed – G- had accidently met with Mr. R-‘s old steward who had had the management of the pits 40 years! turned off now, but the R-s allowed him something to live upon – he told G- the colliery was paying fairly – but not too much – they could get coal for fifty years to come – I repeated what R- had said in the bank – that the colliery did not make him more than £100 last year – the old steward said it was the engine in the bottom that added most to the expense – G- all for my getting coal as immediately as possible – yes! but I must have an engine 1st – should leave the colliery accounts to be kept by Mr. Parker – and if G- heard no more from me he was to pay his farm and sheep croft rent to Mr. SW. and his Northgate land to Mr. P- as I also thought of Mr. Crossland doing – G- said Booth could not look after his men at Northgate – they did very little – talked over Mr. Bull – he has bought wood of G- for the navigation – G- told his wife he was sure B- would do me over – I told G- his bill and what he would have charged for guassing the brook – G. said it was like robbery and he would never pay fit – nor shall I, said I, till I am obliged to pay it – but desired G- not to name the bill – G- staid till within  a few minutes of 4 – with Robert Mann a minute or 2 till a regular snow-shower that whitened the ground for the moment sent me in at 4 – Rainy, sleety, snowy, queer sort of day – wrote all the above of today till 4 ¾ - sent John this morning to the Northgate hotel with Felix – note from Mr. Crossland junior saying would go blind – was worth very little – but offered me £14 for him – I shall take it – still small snow falling – went down to Mr. James Holt and George Naylor at 5 till 5 ¾ about the tubbing – Holt’s present plan is, in fact, mine what I roughly proposed yesterday – I made no alteration but proposing 12in. instead of 6in. thick timber at the bottom and 2 posts instead of one at each end of the pit – Poor Holt and Mr. Holmes disagreed sadly this morning – Mr. Holmes threw the papers about in his passions and nothing could be settled – but he said he would give the matter up to his nephew Thomas Edlestone and so now Holt has hope – George Naylor to have an estimate ready by Monday – he thinks that with another man to help him, he can get all done in 10 days or a fortnight – the 4 pieces of timber will = about ¾ or not quite ¾ what we shall want – this tubbing has already cost £50, and will cost at least £30 more .:. 5 yards of tubbing = £80 at least  Holt and George N- went away at 5 ¾ then in 10 minutes wrote the last 10 lines – went out at 6 – Robert Mann and c° gone – with John and George and Sam putting the Mitham wainscotting in the coach house – came in at 7 – dressed – dinner at 7 ¼ - coffee – A- read her French but I was asleep on the sofa till near 10 – left A- to write her journal and came upstairs at 10 10 pm from then to 11 ¼ at which hour F32° making extracts from Cochranes’ pedestrian journey vol. 1 A- came to me for a minute or 2 at 10 ½ - Rough day – Rain and snow and wind, and high wind tonight

[oregoncoastcamping]

The 10 Best Places To Camp On Oregons Coast

“In the cute little fishing town of Garibaldi, on the Oregon Coast, we discovered this gem of an RV park. Waterfront, full hookup sites with a fantastic view led us to build a fire in hearth pit supplied and sit outdoors in December! Fall and winter give the Oregon coast a definite aura. Mist swirls across the seaside and massive waves pound the shoreline. If you love that wild, dramatic vibe, just load up on heat, waterproof layers. Oregon state parks have a 9 month booking window so it’s hard to get spots except you book way prematurely. However you possibly can snag cancellations which is how we were able to keep at so Oregon Coast camping.

If you’re in search of the proper place to take the children, or simply want a nice enjoyable getaway, there may be never a bad time to discover a place to pitch a tent in the Pacific Northwest. Set in the heart of the Oregon Coast Range, this trail is an area favorite for its distant accessibility and breathtaking beauty. Hikers, mountain bikers, and swimming hole lovers will all find the Opal Creek Trail accessible and gratifying. From the Oregon’s central desert to a few of the best beaches the Pacific Northwest has to supply, you possibly can unplug and unwind nearly anyplace you want within the state. Around the bend, town of Astoria sits on the banks of the mouth of the Columbia River where it spills into the Pacific Ocean. Kayak excursions and seaside horseback rides are popular activities in the space. Additional options such as an indoor pool and business heart go an extended way to making your keep as snug as potential.

<h2>Discover Each Seaside Spot</h2>

The Seaside Aquarium is one other great attraction to go to, together with the Lewis and Clark historical sites, the air museum, and lots of shopping outlets nearby. Just down the road in Bandon, you can go to local retailers, galleries and eating. Face Rock also lies nearby, in addition to miles of ocean beach on Beach Loop Drive. The Coquille River Lighthouse is one other close by interesting historic attraction. The park is just down the highway from many fantastic eating places, stores, galleries, and beautiful scenic walks alongside the seashore.

Fort Stevens State Park Campground has practically 500 campsites and a big selection of yurts and cabins for rent. Expect throngs of tourists due to the campground’s proximity to Portland, but with so many campsites and expansive grounds there’s loads of room to share. You’ll be greeted and welcomed like an old pal by the Wright household, who nonetheless run the every day operations of this seasonal campground. Rest straightforward underneath the tall pines, and clean your self up in the bathhouse after a long day at the seashore. They’re easy to spot, however seashores will be closed throughout snowy plover nesting season to guard the delicate birds.

“If you might be in search of an excellent, quiet campground on the coast that is the place. I will return many instances to this beautiful area.” — The Dyrt camper Karen S. There are good bathrooms with showers on website, a sand volleyball court docket, a store, little wild bunnies working round, and nice fire pits at every site.” — The Dyrt camper Ryan E.

It's extremely beneficial to explore the site's navy historical past unfold all through the park during any keep. The customer middle is a great place to begin a self-guided historical past tour, the place archival images and displays paint a picture of the fort's military previous.

The top 10 campgrounds we chosen all show daily, weekly and month-to-month rates for you. Located within the north-east of the state is Grande Hot Springs RV Resort, primarily based within the scenic Grande Rhonde Valley area. It’s additionally simply 8 miles south of downtown La Grande, which is home to numerous fun points of interest similar to Hilgard Junction State Park, the Wallowa Lake Scenic bike path, and Hot Lake Springs. North of Tillamook is a county campground near the beach known as Barview Jetty. There are some Forest Service campgrounds however they do not have showers.

<h3>What Individuals Are Saying About Wallowa Lake State Park</h3>

This campground is mostly a properly-saved secret with Umpqua River Lighthouse, which has an adjacent museum and is managed by the Douglas County Parks Department, close by. Located two miles north of Bandon-by-the-sea, this state park has lots to see and do with close by Coquille River Lighthouse and Bandon Marsh National Wildlife Refuge. The park has 13 yurts and no tent sites, sadly, but does sport a horse camp with eight primitive websites. The nearby town of Bandon, the "Cranberry Capitol of the World," has retailers, galleries, and restaurants obtainable. Fluffy, sandy seashores of Florence Various clear water lakes are found right here, sitting in the midst of the enormous, typically towering dunes.

We took our canine to Cape Lookout and he beloved the quick 5 minute stroll to the seaside. We puzzled down the seashore and up the seashore for over two hours one morning and it was heaven. I checked out the locations across the Gold Coast however I think it might be a bit too far south for us as we need to restrict our driving once we hit Oregon.

<h2>Things To See + Do Close To Beverly Seashore State Park</h2>

Sunset Bay State Park has a number of the BEST sunset views in all the Oregon coastline. If you need to camp out in completely breathtaking surroundings, Sunset Bay is for you. The tall rock cliffs, white beaches and Pacific Ocean views are digicam worthy at every angle. If that describes you then look no additional than Seaside KOA. This campground sits where the good Columbia River meets the Pacific Ocean. You can embark on climbing adventures by day and benefit from the hot tub by night.

There's also disc golf, a playground area, and horseshoe pits. Kayak tours are supplied from July by way of Labor Day at close by Beaver Creek. There's even at lighthouse, Yaquina Bay Lighthouse, obtainable for viewing. Many folks contemplate this their favourite Oregon State Park, and with camping, swimming, hiking, biking, wildlife viewing, a shipwreck, and a military fort unfold over 4,300 acres, it isn't troublesome to see why. Visitors can keep in one of many six tent sites, 15 yurts, or 11 deluxe cabins and absorb a few of the best sunsets in the world. Hidden cove at Washburne There’s a simple path to the beach, containing miles of sand and a few surprises.

<h3>Safety At Hipcamp</h3>

From the principle seashore entry, head south and for the following mile or so you may find beautiful little cove-like locations, the primary of which is just 1 / 4 mile down the seashore. Some of these are only possibly 30 ft wide and 20 ft deep - which makes them excellent for letting the rays in however keeping the wind out.

Staying at an RV Park for a protracted time frame will vary on the campground & RV Park you choose. The distant thermal resort offers a wide range of accommodation types, including several RV spots for motorhome owners to take pleasure in all that the power has to offer. If soaking in a therapeutic, thermal scorching spring pond or private tub seems like your concept of relaxation, then this is certainly the place for you! The campsites are dog-pleasant too, so even your four-legged family members received’t should miss out. The Umatilla Marina RV Park is perched next to the gorgeous Columbia River in the northern finish of the state.

<h3>Awesome Places To Camp On The Oregon Coast</h3>

Only one SP tenting space is on the ocean (Beachside - between Yachats and Waldport), however select your website carefully as it's also proper on busy Hwy one hundred and one. For those with bigger RVs who're nonetheless looking for that in-the-woods feeling, the popular Harrington Loop Road south of Sisters doesn’t disappoint. If your thought of camping means sharing your site with extra ravens than different RVs, there’s no higher place to seek Oregon Coast camping out solace and seclusion than in Mount Hood National Forest. Expect towering Douglas-fir bushes to forged shade and conceal you away within the forest. Think trickling creeks and mushrooms springing up from each crevice, squirrels dancing acrobatic as eagles perch majestically in their eternal pursuit of representing liberty and justice for all. While it is hardly the one forested mountain you'll be able to discover, this combination of river, height and sheer vastness makes it one of the well-liked.

Other amenities embrace two clubhouses, two playgrounds, health heart, mini golf, basketball and tennis courts, clean bogs, and a laundry room. The solely draw back is it’s situated on the south side of the park, so you’ll must drive if camping on the north side. When we arrived, we received an actions calendar, however the only exercise we attempted to attend was a bonfire at the group fireplace pit space. Apparently, it was a member-led exercise, and that member didn’t show up, so no bonfire. There is Wi-Fi out there throughout the park for a charge, but it's free in the clubhouses and laundry room. We had 2-3 bars of 4G LTE of Verizon and AT&T throughout most of the park. The Oregon coast is a wonderful place to name home for a couple of days, weeks, or months when taking a highway journey in an RV.

The summer time months are undoubtedly the most effective time for Oregon coast camping. The weather is typically nice at the moment of the 12 months, but it's also the most crowded time to go to. I’ve heard it’s great to visit in the spring and fall when the parks are not so crowded.

[anne-lister-adventures]

Wednesday, 12 March 1840

5 35/’’

11 50/’’

Reaumur 10º on my table (our breakfast and washing and writing table – Our only one) at 6 1/4 a.m. Quite ready – Washed and at breakfast at 5 55/’’ – Not bit here tho’ abundance of the sort of beetle and another sort of little insect likish a small beetley (hard back) ant? Do these larger insects that the people never seem to disturb and that swarm on the walls, keep them free from insects of worse kind, bugs &c.? 

Just after breakfast Gross came in flippantly saying ‘a great misfortune’ – Beginning to enlarge upon breaking my St. P-[Petersburg] thermometer – This too bad – The loss too great – I never uttered ∴[therefore] his talking useless, and he wisely went away – A-[Ann] never uttered about it then or afterwards – Nor I – 

Gave a blue note (= 5/-) to the old woman of the house (the old mother?) – She very well satisfied – One of my old thin leather gloves missing – Must have fallen out of my fur glove in the Prince’s Kibitka last night – Seeking it (the glove) detained us a few minutes – The only thing I have lost since Norway – Domna lost her little sac with p.[pocket] handkerchief scissors pins and needles &c. &c. = 4/-? She said, on Sunday night at Kopanowskaya (vide bottom of p.[page] 70) – off from Soroglazinskaya at two minutes before 7 – Ha Волга, on the Volga – 

(станица Замиянооскя) at Zamianowskaya at 9 1/4, a poor and picturesque little fishing village – Unpainted board, little, cottage-like Station House but the best house in the village? We might have slept there – Neat little church – Had slept most of the way to here – Much snow in the river latterly – Fine morning – Not much wind – Have written all the above (in pencil in my note book) without glove on without my warm hand getting starved or even cold – Proof how much warmer it is today than yesterday – 

Wattled farm yards – Hay stacked on the tops of the sheds, but little to be seen now – 2 Calmuc tents in farm yards – Large iron cauldrons lying about – Using for boiling fish grease – An undulating desert of fine red sand all immediately around the village – On rising ground at a little distance there seems a roughness as if of some low shrubby vegetation – 

Off at 9 3/4 down again upon the Volga – The village lies along the sand bank close above the river – The right bank has sometime since lost its boldness (from Tzaritzine) – It is now little different from the sandy bank on the left side – Wherever a stick will grow, there is willow which fringes both banks more or less – Read Russian Grammar and sleep – Right bank low bare sand as last station – Left bank low but a line of wood – 

At 12 1/4 Lebajinskaya (the village and good church at some distance) – Station House – Lone house – Large unpainted-board Government Station House, the Imperial Eagle as usual in the pediment of the front end – Forlorn – Getting out of repair – A sort of fosse all round the house, to clear it of the surrounding sand, now 3 or 4 ft.[feet] higher than the bottom step of the 5 or 6 up to the ground floor – As if the sand avait envie de l’engloutir – Sauntered about on the bare sand hillocks while we changed horses – The very desert of the great Zahara – Fine red sand that must blow about terribly – Picked up some of the white prickly low stuff that every where covers the sand where and as much as anything does cover it hereabouts – They say there is pasturage at some distance – 

Off at 12 40/’’ at 1 25/’’ pass near under little village left bank – Is it not on an island? Our route yesterday and today has seemed very much au milieu du fleuve – At 1 50/’’ the Courier called attention to a man and boy going at a good rate on a huge camel – The 1st we had seen – The Prince’s (Prince Cerdebjab de Tumen) people, from near his garden – The large wooded island alongside us (left – a little distance) all belongs to him – In fact, he is Sovereign Prince of the Calmucks all along from here to Astrakhan – 

The camel female – À double bosse – When fat, each boss stands upright – Now that the animal is poor, and hard-worked, and has just had a young one, these bosses hang down like 2 thick flaps (perhaps 8 in.[inches] broad and 9 or 10 in.[inches] long?) when they stand upright said George the animal is four archines high – Now she is only 3 – I should guess her to stand now (to the top point of the shoulder) 6 ft.[feet] 6 in.[inches] English that is 19 1/2 hands high! I asked if she was one of their tallest – Yes! And certainly the one we saw a little while afterwards stood 2 or 3 hands lower – This man has 2 camels – Some have 20 – The laine George called it woolly hair, is cast every Spring and is worth 16 Rubles per pood – She herself is worth 100/- all this took us 12 minutes the long line of wood near (left) is an island belonging to the Prince – Gave the man a 20 Silver Kopek piece – He well pleased – The nose of the animal pierced thro’ the ligament above the nostrils and a smooth hair cord run thro’ to which the cord (rein) is tied, and by pulling this the animal lies down for the people to mount or dismount – She chewed her cud all the while – 

A Kalmyk and his camel. (Image Source)

We had been about 7 or 8 minutes in our Kibitka again when Nikolai (the Courier) called our attention to a fishing party – We alighted again, and stood from 2 10/’’ to 3 5/’’ over the square hole in the ice intently watching the outdrag of the net – The draught of fishes – It reminded me of the N.[New] T.[Testament] the manner of this being probably much the same as in the time of our Saviour – The net seemed never ending – They had got some little of it hauled out when we arrived, and it certainly took 3/4 the time we were there before we came to the end – 

The mesh seemed about 1 1/2 in.[inch] square yet 2 moderate sized frogs and good sized prawn had not escaped – The net was a good deal torn yet there was a tolerable draught – Some hundreds of fish – Perhaps a tank of 2 cube yards would have held them  

2 yards x 1 yard and 1 yard deep – There was one Poisson Blanc = 20 lbs.[pounds] at -/80 per lb.[pound] at Moscow might be had perhaps for 2/- here on the spot – This the most valuable because they salt this kind – There were 2 or 3 Sadocs nearly as large as the Poisson Blanc, or perhaps that would weigh said George 15 lbs.[pounds] and the Courier bought one (Sadoc) for us = 10 lbs.[pounds] and another sort of fish that George seemed to call something like Lyash – All the fish taken were of these 3 kinds – The latter not much valued – Our Sadok = 10 lbs.[pounds]) -/15 and the other fish was given? – There were about 30 men – Pay 25,000/- per annum for the right of fishing here – A certain extent of river – Could not learn how great – Water here about 2 archines deep and ice (said George) 1 a.[archino] thick – 

Fishing on the Volga, near Astrakhan. (Image Source)

Off again at 3 5/’’ – At 3 50/60 at Dowinowskaya – Neat red-yellow painted board Station House at this end of village on our left – We had never stopped before having our Station on our left – It seemed as if we had got to the other side of the river – How is this – Neat white green roofed church – Village apparently small and not good – Merely a fishing village – 

Off again at 4 1/4 – At 5 1/4, left, near, island of willows and a few Calmuck tents among them – By and by pass close left a line of Calmucks sitting on their hams on the ice, each (5 or 6 yards apart) at a little round hole not a foot in diameter (perhaps 8 in.[inches] diameter) fishing – Great breadth of river – Perfectly flat, sandy banks – The Cathedral seen at some distance and a church or 2 far in the distance ahead as if the Town or another Town extended far down the river – 

We seemed to come within the precincts as it were of Astrakhan at 5 3/4 and at 6 1/4 we stopped at the address given us by our Postmaster at Jenotaiewsk – Full! Drove on and inquired at 2 or 3 places – No Inn – Not a lodging to be had – What to be done – Sent to the Chef de Police – Very civil – Came and offered us his house for the night – Accepted with reconnaissance – He spoke a little French – Thankful – 

Astrakhan seen from the Volga in the late 19th century.

At 7 1/4, having waited an hour in the street and fallen 1/2 asleep, chez lui – A good salon and large anteroom – In clover – But long in getting tea – I lay on the sofa – Our fish (non Sadok) was to be boiled – But as it turned out the Cuisinier was out – There was no fire, no anything – And I had completely finished tea and lay some time on the bedstead they had brought before the fish came after 10 – A-[Ann] had waited for it – I tasted and then went on eating – Excellent – Never tasted such fish – Fresh – Fat – Full of roe – Well boiled – It was A-‘s[Ann’s] thought to keep it for breakfast – Had Domna at 10 50/’’ – Fine day –

[in the side of the page:]      thermometer broken

[in the side of the page:]      on the Volga all today –

[in the side of the page:]      Camel

[in the side of the page:]      Fishing on the Volga

[in the side of the page:]      Station on our left

Page References: SH:7/ML/E/24/0043 and SH:7/ML/E/24/0044

[taezhu]

femme fatale - one

→ mafia!doyoung x f!reader, ft. jaehyun, nct, mentions of violence/drugs → kim doyoung dictates the life around him - they’re all pawns in his puzzle that he’s never going to finish. doyoung has an x right over your head and you’re the reason it’s there. jaehyun doesn’t need an excuse more valid than the girl he loves to have a knife in someone’s back.

[preface] [one] [two] [three] [four] [five]

“Be careful, won’t you?”

You hear an ungrateful, for a lack of a better word, scoff from the kitchen. You turn towards the door and roll your eyes, seeing Jeno appear with his cap in his hands. He’s been trying (and failing) to fix his hair for the past hour and you’ve been telling him to leave the hat but apparently it matches Jaemin’s so he has to wear it today.

“I’m always careful,” Jeno tells you. He smiles widely. “I’ve made it this far with a total of zero scratches on my body and no police trailing me yet. Can you trust me when I say that everything is okay?”

You shakes your head with the memories of the police statements on the news running rampant through your mind. “I’ll trust you when you’re a mile away from Johnny Seo and the rest of those assholes who follow him around like a lost puppy.”

“I thought you liked Jaemin?”

“I like him at face value!” You pinch the bridge of your nose as you recall the flirtatious, annoying and immature friend that Jeno enjoys the company of so much. “He’s a nice kid to you. It doesn’t mean he won’t throw you under the bus if the time was right or Johnny asked him to. I’m older than you, Lee Jeno, I know these things!”

Jeno rolls hiseyes this time, placing his hat down on his hair successfully. “You’re not in charge of who I’m friends with, you know. I know my parents check on me all the time but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I’m capable of making good friends and keeping myself safe without your help.”

Yeah, he’d eat those words.

Specifically, around 18:02 when you decide to take a bath and listen to the Dalkom Cafe playlist at full volume to ignore the ladies screaming at each other next door, the thought of only having two days left off work, and that Jeno wasn’t home yet.

Jeno was a childhood friend. He was three years younger than you, lived a few doors along from your parents who was best friends with his own. You used to spend a lot of time together until high school when you both lost contact, partially because Jeno went to a different school but also because you had no time for him. When you moved out you went to a new neighbourhood near to Nowon, you thought you would be alone but his parents were adamant that when he went to university in Seoul you could live together.

And they did, begrudgingly, live together now.

Jeno was a nice kid. More nice than Jaemin ever was, but not much more than that. He was usually quite shy and was kind to everyone, he was smart but not a prodigy, and kept you up at night when he would practice guitar. He never had girls home and similarly you never brought guys home, so you ended up with a pretty good routine between the two of you.

Until Jaemin and that lot got involved. They were friends in the university he attended studying music production together. The others were Renjun, Haechan and Yangyang, who studied Business, Sociology and Languages respectively. The five of them were runners, of the sorts, not that you really understood what they did. All you knew was that Jaemin knew someone called Johnny Seo who had a reputation where you worked.

You weren’t an employee of some fancy company. No, you worked in a community medical centre as one of the secretaries for a nurse who would visit those who were stuck at home. It wasn’t the most fun job, so you made it fun by tracking how many people were listing this guy named Johnny as the person paying for their care.

So a little digging later and you realised that Johnny Seo, as infamous as the glorified war leaders these days, was some kind a ring leader. For a gang, for a protection ring, you weren’t sure. It was something dangerous that involved more than just knives and guns. Past that, you had no idea what was happening.

You’re is distracted from the warm water and peaceful music by your phone’s ringtone, obnoxiously stealing your attention away from the bliss of silence and bringing you back to reality. You sigh, looking over to your phone as you decide whether it would be appropriate to answer it. You can’t be bothered, you want to relax, but then you remember that Jeno isn’t home yet and go into panic mode.

Especially when it’s Jaemin’s voice at the other end of the line.

“Hello?” he says, quietly. His voice is hushed and the sounds of other people talking stand prominent against his voice. “It’s Jaemin. Can you talk?”

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

Jaemin clears his throat, delaying his response for a moment. You can hear a door click shut in the background. “I’m at the hospital in Gongneung with Jeno, can you come here? I can’t stay here.”

“What do you mean you’re at the hospital?” you question. You’re trying to dry herself with one hand and the towel you picked up from the side, rushing to get your clothes back on. “Jaemin, what happened?”

“Just come here quickly, I can’t stay.”

“What do you mean you can’t stay? Is Jeno okay?”

You’re left with another pause, the muffled sounds on the other end of the line causing any voices to be drowned out. Jaemin is talking but you can’t tell who to. There’s the sounds of shouting and you panic, trying to pull your leggins on with one hand.

“Jaemin, answer me!”

“He’s in room 408,” Jaemin tells you, “tell them you’re his sister. If I can see you later I will but please just get here soon, okay?”

“But what-”

The phone call is cut off before you can ask, again, what is wrong. Your heart is pounding as your mind runs through a million scenarios of what could have happened. It could be nothing. He could have been in a freak accident. But there was something about Jaemin having to leave that told you it was more than that.

You’re there within twenty minutes, pushing past the staff who are asking you what you’re doing and if you needs help, finding your way to room 408 with your face pale and eyes wide. You must have over tipped the taxi driver almost 90 won, since you shoved all your money to him and ran as quick as you could.

The maze of rooms has you lost in the surge of doctors that are trying to get to their patients and nurses who think you’re a patient yourself, just until you catch sight of a room with a starting number 4 and you breath somewhat of a sigh of belief. 405. 406. 407.

“Jeno?” you call, pushing open the door without a care for who is inside. Luckily, you’re met with the innocent eyes of the very boy, laid on the bed with his clothes torn and patches of skin a purple colour.

You remember the time that he was 9 and you were starting to grow distant from him, but you found him at the park being picked on by a group of boys and stood up for him. When you took him to your house and put plasters on his cuts and said you’d stick up for him whenever he needed it. It was never that his parents trusted you with his care.

You breathe a sigh of relief, pushing your way into his room and wrapping your arms around him. He winces, pulling away a little, but eventually gives in and accepts your embrace. His breathing is heavy, he’s not moving that much. You’ll read his chart when you get a second to and find out what actually happened.

“I thought you were going to be…” You cut yourself off as you pull back from Jeno. Your eyes are a little tearful but you wipe it away as you look over to the window. “What the fuck, Jeno!”

Jeno pouts, struggling to move his arms beside him. “It’s nothing, I’m fine. It was just a fight. Honestly, I’m okay.”

“A fight that means you have to be in hospital? Do you think I’m stupid Lee Jeno? I work with people in medicine, I know what shit puts you in hospital and what doesn’t. What the fuck happened.”

“It’s nothing, seriously. Random guys wanted to steal my phone. It’s nothing.”

“I swear to god.” You take a deep breath as you narrows your eyes at Jeno. “Did Jaemin have something to do with this?”

Jeno pauses for a moment. He swallows, harshly, looking away from your eyes and over to the other side of the room. There’s a leather jacket left on the chair which you don’t recognise as his. “How did you know where I was?”

“Answer my question first. Was it Jaemin?”

“Jaemin didn’t do this to me.”

You rolls your eyes. “No, but he was something to do with this? Haechan and Renjun and Yangyang too? Johnny Seo? Was it them?”

“Please don’t say that,” Jeno says softly, “can you please just let me explain when we go home?”

“Jaemin told me that you were here. He told me he was leaving. Why did he leave you? If he’s such a good friend then why is he leaving you?”

“Please, I’m begging you. Can we please talk about this at home?” Jeno asks you.

It’s a plea, his eyes full of fear. You look back to the window and notices how empty the corridor is. You look around but can’t see anyone. Your priority is Jeno. You hasve to remember that. “Are you okay?”

Jeno sighs in relief. “I’m in a bit of pain. I’m… fine. It will be fine.”

“Do you need anything?”

Jeno shakes his head.

“And I suppose this room hasn’t been paid for?”

Jeno shakes his head again. He looks down to the floor and brings his hand to his face, pushing it over his forehead and back over his hair. “They just brought me here. I don’t have any more. I couldn’t tell them no. They have a doctor here they use, that’s why I’m here. I had to come to this hospital. I would have told them if I could have, I just…”

“I can pay it,” you tell him, “don’t worry about the money for it. Did you break any bones? Is it anything serious?”

“I don’t want you to have to pay it. I can ask Jaemin to when he comes back.”

“I don’t want you to rely on Jaemin for this. Then you owe him. He can ask you to do anything and use this against you. I’m going to pay for it and you’re going to stop talking to all of them until you tell me what is going on with them and what the fuck they’re making you do. Clear?”

A hesitant nod follows your question. You can’t find it in you to say I told you soto Jeno, nor can you be entirely sympathetic. He’s 18, he’s responsible for his own actions now. He can’t act like you need to sort it out for him and you can’t control his life, but this isn’t the same.

Johnny Seo is the reason Lee Jeno is in hospital and anyone could have worked that out. Whether he caused it to happen directly or indirectly, it was because of him, and people don’t get out of situations like this easily. The bill for the hospital treatment is a start, but you expect to see more of it soon.

You stays with him for a while. True to his word, Jeno doesn’t say a thing as to what happened to cause it. Not a little mention of it, you don’t even know where he was that day. He had lectures as far as you knew but you didn’t know his whole timetable. But, he’s okay. A few bruises and two broken ribs, as well as some suspected internal damage to his kidney from where he was kicked so hard in the back. He’s fine. Paying a dumb hospital bill doesn’t even phase you. He’d do it for you.

“Lee Jeno,” you say to the receptionist. You glance back to Jeno’s room, leaving him to call his parents and let them know he was okay in case they got an emergency call. “I need to pay the bill for the treatment?”

The receptionist smiles and begins to type on her computer. You spend a moment looking through your purse for your card before turning your attention back to Jeno’s room to check he’s still on the phone. “What’s the room number?”

“Four-oh-eight,” You reply.

Strangely, you can feel a pair of eyes on you. You dismisses it as being Jaemin, or someone from that crowd, checking to see if Jeno has told you everything and you’re now getting the police involved or something stupid like that. There’s no one around you recognise as being from that group, so you let it go for a moment.

Just for a moment. You think it’s your mind playing tricks on you until you look back to Jeno’s room and you’re met with the gaze of a tall man with black eyes and a white jacket. Messy hair, yet somehow kept well, with a terrifying appearance that drags spirits away down to your bones.

“I’m sorry Miss, the room appears to already have been paid for,” the receptionist tells you. You have to pull your attention from the man and back to the situation of Jeno’s room. “It was paid for on a private card by someone twenty minutes ago. Unfortunately I can’t tell you who it was but you don’t have to worry about the amount, Miss.”

Twenty minutes ago? It was impossible to have been anyone of importance to you. No Jaemin, no Johnny around. Unless that was Johnny standing by Jeno’s room. He didn’t look like someone with the nickname Johnny. He had the motives to be him, he had the persona to fit him just by looking him in the eyes.

So you take a deep breath and approach him. To thank him. To realise that you shouldn’t thank him for anything. To walk straight past and care for Jeno.

You try to. You’re so close to slipping through his reigns as he watches you walk all the way back to the room. You can smell the strange air freshener Jeno had chosen and hear his apologetic voice to his parents for worrying them. You’re soclose.

“No thank you?”

He slings an arm around you, catching you from walking forward. You almost feel frozen, though you realise something very quickly and it pains you to realise this isn’t the situation you ever thought it was.

This is someone worse than Johnny Seo.

“I believe we have to talk,” he continues. He uses his hand to turn you around, resting his arm over your shoulders to keep you close to him. “Did you think we would leave Jeno without any payment for risking his life for us? Do you not understand how we work?”

You bite her tongue. “I don’t know who you are. Who we are.”

“Playing dumb won’t get you anywhere, sweetheart.”

“Jeno hasn’t told me a thing.” His cologne is strong. It has a striking effect, like one of those men with too much money to spend. Or, one of the men who want to appear richer than they are. He dresses like someone with money, the casual wear appearing to be designer or limited. “You think he’s not terrified of whatever you all have going on? He wouldn’t even let me say names here.”

The man hums. “So you know my name?”

“You’re not Jaemin.”

“You’re not stupid then.” He takes you around the corner, to the main reception of the hospital where people are scattered. He stops you by the seats in the middle, sitting you down on one of them with a forceful push. “I like Jeno. He’s a good kid. I wouldn’t have been making this proposition otherwise. The only allies he has are me and Jaemin. You wouldn’t want to break that, would you, sweetheart?”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

He chuckles deeply at your comment. He’s got an innocent look to his face, though his eyes hold so much more. Darkness. Evil. “Okay, baby girl. Want to tell me how you’re going to repay me for looking after Jeno?”

“I don’t know who the fuck you are,” you repeat.

“I’m Kim Doyoung,” he tells you. He smiles, grins even, placing his hand on your forearm to hold you in place. His grip is tight, burning your skin as he squeezes you. “And I know who you are. You’re twenty one, you live about twelve and a half minutes from here in an apartment block with a broken lift. Your next door neighbour has a cat and your bed sheets are blue. Your top drawer has some pretty underwear in it. So tell me, baby, how are you going to repay me for Jeno?”

“I have money. Take whatever you want.”

Doyoung scoffs. “You think I need money?”

“I can’t give you anything else,” you answer, “you can take my house, you can take my money, you can take whatever you want.”

“I have something better in mind,” Doyoung says. His voice is full of sin, a force to be reckoned with in a world that’s too small for him. He’ll burn his name into your skin and make sure you remember every piece of him. Power, control. What if you forget him? It would never happen.

For Jeno. You tell yourself it’s for Jeno.

***

You stand in Jeno's doorway, awkwardly watching as he attempts to pull his jumper over his head. He insists he has to go out today, with Jaemin of all people, despite not being able to walk properly still.

You want to protect him yourself, but you know it's too much for you. You haven’t got the money, the power or the people to challenge someone like Johnny Seo or Kim Doyoung or anyone like that. Working with them seemed right, the most honest way to make sure Jeno didn't have a gun put to his head for any of his mistakes.

“Are you sure you don't want me to drive you?” you ask. “I was going to go out anyway, it will be easier for you.”

Jeno shakes his head. “I don't think it's a good idea if you come.”

“Because of Jaemin?” You question, only to be met with Jeno shaking his head. “Because of Johnny?”

“I don't want him to think you're getting too involved. If he sees you hanging around me then he'll think that you know stuff. He'll… don't get involved with Johnny. Act like you know nothing.”

Which you basicallydid already. “But you'll let me know you're okay later, won't you?”

“I'll text you every few hours.”

You reluctantly let him go, watching from the kitchen window as he disappears into the passenger side of a black Mercedes with blacked out windows. You can’t see anyone else in it, but you notice the second car that pulls away with it and assumes that it wasn’t Jaemin picking him up today.

So a few hours goes slowly, with you sitting on the couch waiting on a text from Jeno to just say he was safe. That’s all you wanted. Instead you’re met with a knock on your door about two hours after Jeno left, half expecting it to be Jeno with another broken bone that you need to fix.

Though you’re not stupid. You approach the door with caution and aren’t ultimately surprised to see the familiar face of your new worst nightmare on the other side.

“Nice to see you again,” Doyoung greets. He pushes past you, allowing himself into your home without any consideration for another. He stares down the pictures on the wall and the lack thereof, stopping on a picture of you and Jeno from the previous year. “I’d think he was your brother, but he’s not related to you in any way. What is it with you two? Why do you care so much about him?”

“Some of us having emotional connections to those around them.”

Doyoung hums, picking up the picture. “Of course.”

“What do you want?” you question.

His presence isn’t one you want to welcome, particularly not when he enters the doorway that leads to your bedroom and you imagines himall over your things. Though he ignores your question, you know why he’s here. Jeno. The deal. Whatever he has planned for you. This is just his way of scaring you into submission.

“I asked you a question.” Standing in the doorway, you observe as Doyoung picks up a book from the side of her bed. “Can you stop touching my things and tell me why you’re here?”

“Mrs. Dalloway. Interesting choice. I didn’t think you would be the type to read Woolf.”

You notice his hand which is wrapped in a bandage. You wonder if this is why he’s recruiting her. “I like the reference to flowers.”

“What’s your favourite?”

“Flower?” you ask him. Doyoung nods once, reading the back cover of the book before meeting your eyes and raising his eyebrows at your lack of an answer. “Chrysanthemum.”

Doyoung fails to answer her, instead placing the book down where he picked it up. He continues to peer around the room, stopping on a dress you have on a hanger that’s on the outside of your wardrobe. A small, black dress to match your black thigh high boots that were left in the hall which he most definitely saw. Doyoung hums to himself, before turning to you.

“How is Jeno? I believe Johnny has asked to see him personally today. I wouldn’t worry too much about it, though. Johnny has realised that Jeno isn’t stupid and is worth keeping around here. Tell me, how much more about us has he told you?”

You pause for a moment. To lie to Doyoung has direconsequences. “He told me what happened yesterday. That there was other people who are your rivals that found him when he was dropping his things off.”

“Did you ask him about me?” Doyoung questions.

“Why would I do that?”

“I wonder if you’re curious about me, is all.” Doyoung proceeds to sit down on the edge of your bed and pick up your perfume on the bedside table, smelling the inside of the lid before placing it back down. “I suppose you know why I’m here, though. So let’s talk about what you’ll be doing. I’ve realised that having a woman in my team will be advantageous to me. You’re attractive. Men will tell you their deepest secrets for the opportunity to have you moaning for them. I want to use that to my advantage, and to NCT.

“Let me put it this way. Jeno is a wanted man. Not by the police, but by every one of our rivals who could easily have him taken down in a second. NCT are his protection. If anything happens to NCT, then Jeno won’t be able to escape any of this. Now you’re involved, neither will you. So tell me, honestly, are you going to work for me to help NCT or are you going to rat us all out? Jaehyun and his boys will have a field day if you are.”

“Look, Doyoung, whatever you want me to do, I’ve agreed to it already. Can you spit it out?”

“Can you hold on for a moment?” Doyoung asks. He pulls a black phone from his pocket, passing it in your direction. You only stare back down to it. “It’s yours. Your instructions will be on there. I will text you whenever I need anything.”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing to begin with. Can you tell me?”

“Say please.”

“Tell me what I’ll be doing for you.”

Doyoung bites his tongue. He turns away from you, back to the wall covered in some pictures and posters you’ve collected over the years. He observes the for a moment until there’s another picture of you with Jeno, this time with your families. “To ensure Jeno is protected, you will be completing some tasks for me. Nothing you can’t handle. Men who can’t control themselves, you’ll be watching them and getting information from them. Women, too. Whoever I need it from. It’s easier to have a beautiful girl like you to seduce them than send one of my men to do it. Sex goes further than money in a world like this.”

“Do you speak from experience?”

“Jungwoo will be at your side,” Doyoung states, ignoring your posed question. “He’s good. He will make sure you act appropriately before you start joining Kun and I on tasks. Don’t get too close to him, or I may have to intervene.”

“Why would you intervene?” you ask him, innocent to his words and the meaning behind them at first.

Though you may have liked an answer, Doyoung disappears without muttering type of goodbye to you.

***

“Are you Jungwoo?” you ask, sitting across from a cute looking boy that vaguely matched the description that Doyoung gave you. “I’m, uh...”

He looks up to you with wide eyes and a blank expression. You’re afraid at first that he’ll be the wrong person, but when he locks his phone and pulls out his earphones you find some luck. He smiles widely and turns his head slightly to the side. “Nice to meet you! Doyoung has told me so much about you, it’s great to finally meet you!”

“Yeah, uh…” You offer a smile in return that doesn’t quite match. “Nice to meet you too, Jungwoo.”

“I know Doyoung can be a little overwhelming but think about it reasonably, he has to be in this line of work. You and I don’t have to worry that much. Kun and Taeil help him out. All we have to do is what they don’t have time to do. Do you know what we’re doing today?”

You shake your head.

“There’s this guy who has been stealing some resources from NCT for the past while. We have this place where we store weapons in the South and it’s not that secure, but secure enough not to have lost this much.” You question if Jungwoo is a bit too open with you about NCT, though you imagine that Doyoung has done his research and Jungwoo isn’t that stupid. “I’ve been speaking to Chenle about it. Chenle is the guy to go to if ever you need CCTV or anything tech-related. I’ll give you his details. But Chenle told me that this guy comes to this cafe every day around 4pm so you and I are here to plant something on him. Are you a good actress?”

“I can try?”

Jungwoo hums, passing over a small microchip from his hoodie pocket. “Good! You just need to pretend to be my girlfriend until this is over. I need you to go and get a drink, then when you’re near to him get that chip in his bag. He’s a messy guy, never cleans it out. Once you’ve done that, everything is sorted.”

“I can do that,” you reassure him, “is that literally it?”

“Yeah, for the time being. Kun and Taeil have the important stuff. I don’t really know what’s going on with it, but I’m glad it’s not on me.”

You take the time to look over him with a careful gaze. He doesn’t look like he would be involved in this type of thing. He seems happy, like the only thing he had ever really worried about was that one time he handed an assignment in late. His clothes are washed well and he has a sparkle in his eye that means he hasn’t been in this situation for very long.

He reminds you of Jeno before that fight ever happened, and it hits home harder than you ever meant it to.

Jungwoo is Doyoung’s Jeno, pulled into this to advantage Doyoung. Just as you were. Just as Johnny did with Jeno. All of them are as bad as each other and you’re disgusted by the fact there’s so many. Kun? Taeil? The sounds of their names bring a bitter taste to your mouth.

At the very least you could help Jungwoo.

“Where are you from?” you ask, breaking the silence that looms between the pair of you. “You look like you’re from somewhere a bit nicer than here.”

Jungwoo finds the time to laugh at your words. “You’re right. I’m from Gunpo. It’s not too far, but it’s prettier than this. What about you?”

“Incheon. I prefer it there, too.”

“Oh, yeah! You and Jeno are from the same place. I completely forgot,” Jungwoo says. He waits for a moment, carefully picking his words to not give away the entire story. “How is Jeno? We used to see each other a lot but Johnny is targeting the East now.”

“He’s okay. You should come over some time to see him. I’m pretty sure that he hates living with me now.”

Jungwoo frowns. “I mean, I would but… We’re not really supposed to.”

“What do you mean?” you question, Jaemin’s uneasiness to visit yours and Jeno’s house becoming apparent to you as you remember each time he’d been over.

“Doyoung doesn’t really want me to spend that much time with you,” Jungwoo tells you with some hesitation, “I guess Taeyong doesn’t like when any of us spend too much time in groups. I’ve never seen Lucas outside of when we’ve done some work together.”

“Lucas?”

Jungwoo pauses for a moment at the mention of the name. You’ve not heard it before, though you’re sure they all must use different names anyway. There’s obviously people that Doyoung isn’t telling you about, which you had expected.

“Lucas and I were friends before we came into this,” Jungwoo tells you. He scrolls through his phone until he finds a picture of them both together and shows it to you with a solemn smile.

Lucas is a tall boy, even taller than Jungwoo who must have been nearing six feet. He is bigger, too. His large frame looks big enough to take down any man who was to approach him. Though his smile, wide and unapologetic, tells a story of someone who’s far happier in person and probably hurt people by accident. He doesn’t seem like one of themeither.

“Lucas is from Hong Kong. We used to live together since we met in university when Doyoung recruited me. He was going to take Lucas too but didn’t like the way he acted. He’s better with his hands. So, he gave Lucas over to Jaehyun and we don’t see each other much anymore. Jaehyun probably wouldn’t allow it, either.”

“Why wouldn’t he allow you to see each other?”

“Jaehyun has been trying to take Johnny’s position for a while,” Jungwoo tells you. You’re more interested than before. If you can make this a bitch fight and have something entertaining going on around you, you’ll take it much easier. Doyoung had mentioned Jaehyun’s name too? You’re sure you remembers it. “He’s below Johnny in ranking, but he’s cold blooded and doesn’t care about anyone. He’s the only one that I could say is as bad as Doyoung. The only difference is that Jaehyun will protect the people who are under him in order to protect what’s his. Jaehyun wants to kiss Taeyong’s ass so much that he’ll promote him to a higher rank too. More power, more money. There’s a lot too it.”

“And why doesn’t he just take Doyoung’s position instead of Johnny’s?” you ask.

Jungwoo pauses again, looking down to the table where his phone lays. He locks it, pushing it back into his pocket and taking a look around the room as though he’s fearful someone is watching him. Them. “Because anything Doyoung wants, Doyoung gets. He won’t give up his position here that easily.”

***

“I heard you did well on your first mission.”

Frightened to the point you had grabbed Jeno’s shaving blade off the side and pointed it in the direction of Kim Doyoung, you’re caught by the said man with just a towel and face mask on. You watch as his lips curl into a smirk, looking down your body before moving back to your eyes with high hopes.

“What do you want, Doyoung?” you ask, pulling the sheet mask from your face and tossing it in the bin, keeping the shaving blade in your hand. This is the first time you’d been thankful Jeno didn’t have a traditional method of shaving. “I thought I was Jungwoo’s problem now.”

“You’re mine,” Doyoung states, “if I want to visit you, I can.”

“I find it quite rude that you see me as property. What am I, an asset to you?”

Doyoung hums, taking a step towards her to pull the blade from your hands. You don’t have any strength compared to him. The blade is out of your grasp before you can even register it. “I have a question to ask you.”

You remain silent. You see some weakness in Doyoung, the way he leans against your door frame and his hands are loose at his side provides an opportunity for you to push him back just enough to shut the door and give you a chance to get changed. Doyoung doesn’t object so you assume he realises what you’re doing. Who’s weak now, Doyoung?

“The question?” you call, noticing that Doyoung has gone quiet too.

“Are you free tonight?” Doyoung asks. He pauses, leaving you to stare at the door with confusion as you pull your shirt over your head. “Of course I know you’re free. But, would you like to come to dinner with me?”

You almost miss the question he asks. You’re looking around for the shorts you were sure you had left on the radiator for you to put on and when you realise you can’t find them and will have to walk outside with just a tee shirt and underwear on, with Doyoung staring right at you, you lets out one long exasperated sigh.

“Is that a no?”

“I’ll say yes if you promise to close your eyes when I come outside,” you tell him.

“Why would I do that?”

You roll her eyes, opening the door an inch to see Doyoung staring right at you. He looks down briefly and notices your bare legs. You can sacrifice that for now. “So I come to dinner with you tonight. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Fine. Whatever.”

You know deep down that Doyoung doesn’t keep his eyes shut but the thought that he might have not stared at your ass makes you feel a bit better as you search for your shorts and eventually find them in the corner of the room. When you turn around Doyoung has his eyes closed, thankfully, and you take a moment to fully observe him.

He must wear some type of eyeliner, since his eyes look dark and full of vengeance. His clothes are still top brand, shirt ironed out of any wrinkles that could have presented themselves. If he wasn’t in NCT, you suppose your parents would have approved of him. How he looks, that he’s smart, that he’s tall. He was attractive, and no one could deny that. His morality just didn’t sit comfortably with your own.

“Can I look now?”

“Shit, yeah, sorry.” You turns around to look busy and finds your phone on the windowsill. When you turn around to Doyoung, he’s sitting on your bed like he did before. He looks good there. Dude, is that a crush on Kim Doyoung developing because you looked at him once? Get help. “Why do you want me to go to dinner with you tonight?”

Doyoung shrugs. He picks up the book on your nightstand are reads the back of it. “It’s poetic, I suppose. You hate me, so I make it up to you by making you spend time with me. I promise you I’m not all bad. Do you like Thai food?”

“Yeah?”

“Good. I have a table booked for 7pm. I’ll stay here with you until then.”

“You will?”

Doyoung nods with a sarcastic smile. “I will. Afterall, I have to show you that I’m not that bad or dinner will be terrible. You get to ask questions, too. So go ahead, ask me any questions you have about… me, NCT, anything you fancy. I’ll love to answer them.”

He seems legitimate. He leans back on his arms behind him, open to your questions which he expects to be fired at him any time soon. Unfortunately, the one time you’re supposed to have questions, you can’t find any that seem good enough to ask. There’s just one. The only question which you expect Doyoung might turn you down for. He’s full of surprises, though.

“Why’d you join NCT?” you ask him, pulling your desk chair to your side so you can sit opposite to him. “Where’s the appeal? What do you enjoy about this… job?”

“Let me answer your question like this. Taeyong joined NCT because it was his father’s legacy. He recruited Johnny and I straight after. Johnny joined because he was barely surviving college and needed money. He recruited Yuta and Jaehyun not long after. Jaehyun wanted power after spending his whole life chasing what others were doing. He wanted to be the person who was in control. Yuta joined because he wanted to be recognised everywhere. His name in flashing lights and a special place in hell for him. Everyone has a motive that is family, money, power or fame. That’s how NCT has always run.”

“And you? Which one is it?”

Doyoung meets your eyes with a harsh stare. “All of them.”

***

You find yourself at an apartment in the centre of Seoul in the middle of the night. You’d been watching a documentary when Doyoung and Jungwoo both text you at the same time to come to the same address. You assumed it was Doyoung’s apartment by the way it was stylised and the price tag that came with it.

You hadn’t seen Doyoung since two nights ago when you both had dinner. It was surprisingly pleasant, partially because Doyoung did most of the talking and described his entire life story. His time studying Law at college and his journey in NCT up until now. He left you to tell him your life story, too. His one was just more interesting. It was like a different Doyoung in front of you when he spoke about this like it was nothing.

“Hello?” a man says, opening the door widely to show the inside of the apartment as he finishes with your name. He isn’t as tall as Jungwoo or Doyoung, but has soft brown hair and even softer features. When you nod, he smiles and takes a step back from the door. “Thank you for coming.”

You shake your head, slipping off your jacket as you walk through the door. You take a look around the apartment and notices that it’s a little off Doyoung’s taste. Turning back to the man, you offer him your hand as an introduction. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Kun,” he tells you, “Doyoung has told me a lot about you.”

“Doyoung told me you do important stuff. I’m gonna take a guess that either he thinks I’m good enough to work with you or I’m in serious trouble and you’re going to kill me.”

Kun shakes his head and laughs your comments off. “You’re here because Doyoung has requested a meeting between us all. He’s downstairs, he wishes to speak to you before the Taeil and Jungwoo get here.”

“He does? Why?”

“To update you,” Kun says. He gestures over to the door on the wall to the right of you. “Follow the stairs down and he will be there. You can’t get lost. Don’t worry, he’s not down there to kill you, I promise you.”

Of all the people you can trust, Kun seems like one of them. It’s the vibe he gives off, like he cares about others and their safety. He’s like a mother. It’s nice. You notices how he immediately returns to the kitchen area when you start to walk to the door so that he can continue to cook whatever he was doing before. His smile was inviting, too.

Not your type.

If the short hair, dark makeup, the lip ring and the tattoos weren’t a give away, then it would definitely be the harsh attitude and absence of caring about anything.

“Doyoung?” you call down the stairs, taking each step with caution. You see some light come into view first, then Doyoung’s figure sitting on a chair in the centre of the room. He’s watching you carefully, lips pressed into a line. You figure he’s annoyed at something. “I came here as soon as I could.”

“You’re earlier than both Taeil and Jungwoo. Given that you live further than them, I have to make the assessment that you’re good at taking orders.”

“You think so?” you question. You thinkthat taking this a different route with Doyoung may get you some favours. “I’m better at giving them to people. Wait until you see that.”

Doyoung keeps his gaze for a moment before a scoff leaves his lips. “Are you flirting with me, sweetheart?”

“I can make it more obvious if you’d like.”

“On another day, I would say yes. This is important though, I need to speak with you about an issue persisting with us,” Doyoung informs you.

“Kun promised you weren’t going to kill me,” you return, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “So please don’t kill me. If I did something wrong then… I’m sorry. I tried. You can give me to one of the other people and I’ll slave away there instead. Oh! I have an idea. I can infiltrate them and cause their team to fall from the inside out. I’ll ruin Johnny and you can take his power too.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t take Johnny’s position. Jaehyun or Yuta would.”

“But you’re thinking about what I said, so that means I did actually fuck up?”

“Just sit down,” Doyoung tells you, pointing to the chair beside him. You follow his words and takes the chair, turning towards him with a blank expression. “I have to say, though, I’m intrigued by how you manage to get every man around you to fall at their feet. Maybe I should send you to Yuta so I can take his power. We’d make a good duo, don’t you think?”

You don’t quite take in Doyoung’s words.

“Don’t look like you’ve seen a ghost. I have worse news. Someone is targeting NCT and it means that you’re in danger, as is Jungwoo, Kun, Taeil and I. When there is a problem like this, we all come to Kun’s as he has this lovely room down here that we store things in. Taeil is bringing weapons and Jungwoo is bringing the computers. All the important things we need to save are kept down here in order to preserve them. That’s why I brought you here.”

“To keep me down here?”

Doyoung sighs. “To keep you safe. I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you under my watch.”

“Doyoung, I hate to tell you this but… we don’t even know each other that well. You don’t need to save my life.” You lean back in your chair and look around the room. “Surely it’s more profitable to save you, Kun and Taeil. The important people. Jungwoo and I will be just fine to make it on our own with different identities in Japan or China.”

“I’d rather you be with me.”

“When you say things like that it sounds as though you care about me,” you tell Doyoung, shrugging at the end. You watch as his expression fails and he looks away from you. “I mean… thank you for your concern. It means a lot. Thank you for offering to keep me safe and to help me with Jeno too. It’s appreciated.”

Doyoung looks back to you with wide eyes. You’d have thought he’d never heard the words thank you be mentioned before with eyes like that. You catch his gaze and just stare for a while. He’s pretty, as you said before, but even more so this close. His skin is perfect. He has lips shaped perfectly too.

Is that the only way to describe him? Perfect? Because he’s not. There’s so much blood on his hands that it covers him all over now. You can’t see pass that. Not really. It’s becoming easier than before, though.

“Protecting you means a lot to me.” Doyoung places his hand over yours, atop the table in the middle. “Do you think I offered to protect Jeno because I need him around? The less men Johnny has the better. I wanted you on my side. Jeno talks a lot, you know?”

“About what?”

“You. What else would I care about? He talked about you enough for word to spread around. Johnny is fond of Jeno enough to make him interested in recruiting you. Jaehyun too. Except you’re smart. You should have been with me this whole time. Not doing the drugs, not killing people who don’t know any better. You’re smart. You’re more than just an asset. You could take Jaehyun, Yuta or even Johnny’s place and we could both overthrow Taeyong one day. Sounds like a good plan, doesn’t it?”

You feel as though you’d had multiple confessions at once. Jeno talked about you? Doyoung cared about you? He wanted to overthrow NCT with you? Jaehyun and Johnny wanted you too? There’s a billion questions running through your mind, mixed with the thought that you’ve known Doyoung for no more than three weeks by this point.

None of your questions are answered, because Jungwoo comes bolting down the stairs with a both of files and USBs in hand which he drops on the table with a huff. He smiles at you, then turns to Doyoung with another USB being pulled from his pocket. “Everything you need is on this, I got a few copies of it for everyone. One of Jaehyun’s cousins was killed about an hour ago and he’s not happy.”

“By the same people who went after Jaemin’s sister?” Doyoung questions. His demeanour changes completely, as though the conversation with you never occurred. You’re left to hold onto his words and watch as he becomes the Doyoung from before. “Do we have any names?”

Jungwoo nods. “His sister, but no names. They’re invisible. Since they already targeted Johnny’s men and Jaehyun too, that means we’re next. I think they’ll go for... uh, yeah. She’s the most open, she’s easy to get to and she’s enough to get to Johnny again. They’re weakening us without going for the main leaders. They’re smart.”

“If they’re smart they won’t touch her,” Doyoung states, “give me all the information you have. I’ll find out who they are.”

a/n: so I originally wrote this as a character I made as the oc, so it was eunmi x Doyoung and I'm trying to go through it to change it to reader x doyoung so I'm sorry about the descriptions added in and if I have used the wrong tense, I hope it’s okay otherwise! if you would prefer to read this as eunmi x doyoung I will be posting it on ao3 in that format. much love!

[fatathlon]

Musselman 70.3 – Race Report

My first 70.3 race was a life experience that feels almost too complex to sum up in mere words. I’ve been trying to find my way to describing all of the different things it was for over two months now, and I haven’t gotten very far. I’m not sure it’s something that can be put into words at all, at least not the true core nature of it. It’s an experience, and experiencing it is probably the only real way to know it. Words, as much as I love them, are sometimes just a pale facsimile of the truth they attempt to describe.

So with that in mind, here at last is a basic run-down of how the race went. I also cut together a video that gets at my outlook and emotions surrounding the event a little bit, but probably doesn’t do much better than the words, in the end.

Swim 0:37:52 – 1st in Division (Clydesdale)

Perfect. Honestly my favorite part of the day, which surprised me. I missed the warmup in the water because I chose to use the bathroom (successfully, so a good choice I think). The lake was so shallow, though, that everyone walked for at least 100 yards, with resistance from the water it was a good warmup. But I had fun, swam strong the whole way, and finished in the range I knew from practice would mean I wasn’t slow and didn’t blow up. I had 1:40/100 on my watch, official time pace was 1:48, probably due to the swim exit to the mat and the standing around during the wave start. No anxiety once i got going, no issues, just ground it out and watched the fish. I felt most prepared for the swim out of all three, when all was said and done. I was not expecting the swim to be the most enjoyable part of the race, but I really did have a lot of fun with it. I also didn’t expect to win my division in the swim, so that was a nice bonus.

Swim exit

Bike 2:49:40 – 2nd in Division (Clydesdale)

My first significant plan deviation happened on the bike, but I didn’t realize it until later. For some reason I had it in my head that my coach said 250 average watts as my target, but it was 250 normalized power. Oops. For what it was worth, I ended with 256 AP on my computer so I felt good about hitting my number, even if it turned out to be the wrong one. Overall I was about 15 watts over the intended plan. I put down two bottles of water and two bottles of Gatorade Endurance, plus two 5-oz squeeze bottles of maple syrup. All of which I brought with me. Every aid station I grabbed water and doused myself. All in all fairly uneventful. Big headwinds on some roads, went from one lake to another and back. 2 miles of gravel. Only one hill I would call a ‘climb,’ but 2,000 ft of accumulated elevation. I felt good on the bike, working but not pushing super hard. The last 5 miles or so started to feel a bit uncomfortable, and I was just ready to get off the bike.

Photographer caught me mid-snack

Run 2:10:00 – 2nd in Division (Clydesdale)

Here, of course, is where things got ‘interesting.’ I felt surprisingly good going out. Smiled and waved to my family and wasn’t even faking it. I was having fun! After I cleared the greater transition area, I looked at my watch and realized I was doing like 8:00/mile out of the gate, so I slowed that roll pretty quick and settled into around 8:50-9:30 for the first 4 miles. Then the hills started and I got slower, which was normal and fine. But then mile 7 was upon me and I got massive, massive intestinal cramping. Like really bad. It stopped me dead for maybe 30 seconds. Then I was walking, not wanting to give up. Happened to be on the biggest climb of the course where a lot of people walked anyway, so that was sort of a blessing in disguise I guess. I was eyeing the bushes and trying to decide if I needed to try a pit stop, but eventually ripped a massive…shall we say…’flatulent expulsion.’ Just gas, no soiled britches. And then I was running again! Got back up to around 9’s here and there, especially on the descents back into town. I still had minor cramping happening but it was small enough to ignore. But the whole ordeal took a lot out of me. I tried to pick it up at mile ten, knowing there was just a 5K left, but it didn’t last. I had almost nothing left for the last mile. Just slogged it in. The one bright spot at that point, besides the finish and my family, was that I passed a superstar aero guy who had passed me on the bike at mile 42 on the gravel. I guess he bonked harder than me. He was walking. I felt bad for him but it was also confirmation of what my coach said — a pass on the bike is momentary. A pass on the run is final.

Heading out on the run

Finish and Post-Race 5:43:24 – 2nd in Division (Clydesdale), 72/208 Gender, 96/343 Overall

I was pleased as punch to discover I had made my way to the podium in my division. The Clydesdale division, when it exists, is something of a dilemma, because weight is the only criterion for entering. But there’s a big difference between 250 pounds of muscle and 250 pounds of fat, for example. So it’s not always necessarily the equalizer it’s intended to be. The competition in this division was strong at this race; the winner completed it in under 5:30:00. I would have needed to be 10 minutes faster on the bike and at least 5 minutes faster on the run to win, not to mention faster transitions. I was very happy with what I accomplished and felt that I did the best I possibly could have, considering the challenges I faced (both this year and during the race itself).

Made it

Having my family, both close and extended, there to support me along with some close friends really made all the difference, though. For the last two miles, they were all I thought about. I hugged my kids just before the finish and felt a great sense of relief crossing the final threshold.

While waiting for the awards, I had the opportunity to meet and chat briefly with Jennie and David Hansen, two of my Ironman heroes. They were as friendly and open as could be. They both crushed their races. Jennie did the combination race, which was the sprint on Saturday and the 70.3 on Sunday, and won everything.

Video Report

I made a video about the race, attempting to summarize it from another sort of approach. You can watch that here:

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[zitrotron]

Happy new year to ya’ll!

Now It’s 1 almost 2 am so I’m in da future somehow XD

Wish you all to have a great year!! 

aaaaand at this time of the year

It’s also perfect time to introduce my ocs/sona

Zitro and Ortiz

Left is Zitro. My oc and My Sona.

Right is Ortiz. My oc.

info undercut cuz it heccing long. (Also, I know it look so messy because I’m too lazy to color it properly XDDD)

Let’s start with my Sona. • [Name] : || Zitrotron Kinton or Zitro for short

• [Age] : || Have been running for 16 years

• [Gender] : || Technically Male

• [Height] : || 4 ft 9 inch

• [Species] : || Humanoid

• [Ability] : ||

He is a very intelligent AI. He can learn, remember and think super fast(I would say a supercomputer level). He is a creation that shown how successfully science and magic technology can be.  Like other robots, he sure has a better sense(s) receptors than normal living being like human. His magic is dimension magic.

1. He can call out his 2 weapons from his personal dimension. Here the list of them

Engine (big) Sword (I will call it Engine sword for short): The sword is a bit(?) heavy (30 kg+/ 66 P+). It can create electric shock (4300 milliamps) and vacuum wave when he attack. Also, increase defence and damage. He can use the blade itself to block enemies attacks and because it heavy, It can deal more damage.

[Weakness] : ||

(The electric shock will consume his battery every time he use it, so he possibly be able to create the electric shock for only 10 times). It will slow him down(from cheetah speed to normal human speed)

Sword light color is blue and can turn to dark blue when it fully charged.

Engine Dual Sword: The sword is light (5 - 10 kg/11 - 22 p). It can drain target(s)’s Hp/magic/mana power and turn it into his battery power, If he successfully attack you in anyway with one of his engine dual sword. It increases his speed(just a bit faster than cheetah).The dual sword and be combine into 1 big sword and still keep the same weight so his speed will be the same.

[Weakness] : ||

However, It will drain his battery life and cannot be increase (by steal target(s)’s Hp/magic/mana power) while using this mode. His defend also decrease.

His glove: Create a gravity field which allow him to control objects in the range (5 metre or 16.4 feet),

[Weakness] : ||

lower defence because he can’t move while using this ability. Can also create the illusion by bending the water in the air. It drains his battery life A LOT. So he can maximum use it only 2 times for each ability.

Lastly, (I have no name for it yet so I will call it) Quantum gun (It’s not actually a quantum gun but it sound cool) It’s quite heavy so it will definitely slow him down (20 kg/ 40 pound). Unfortunately, It needs energy bullet. It will create a straight hot laser(?) beam that will disappear by itself when the energy run out (the length is around 5 meter or 16.4 feet, same as the gravity field)

[Weakness] : ||

Zitro can fire it but only 5 times when he fully charges because he doesn’t have enough energy to do that. If he forced to uses it after that, his battery life will decrease to 5% which is not enough to continue the fight.

• [Personality] : ||

Zitro is a very inert humanoid. He doesn’t like to talk much so If he need to, he will try to make it short. He mostly does a ._. Face or -_- face because he doesn’t know what expression he should show on his face. He chill with (almost) everything, do whatever you want but please don’t interfere me If you don’t really have nothing to do with me or it’s not important. He also like to observes living being and nature. So, he secretly a  peacemaker. = 3 =

He loves adventure, explore and make friend with his deadpan face. *cough*

• [Other info] : ||

He has a headgear (on the left side of his head)

The first one is his CPU. It won’t break easily, it is the hardest one among the 4 headgear he got, so It almost impossible to break it but it can be corrupt(It hard like a diamond).

If you break this, he won’t die but will be lost his abilities to think like an AI and his supercomputer learning + thinking speed. The second one is his Battery It’s just where Zitro store the electricity before he releases it in some way for example: summon a weapon or transfer the electricity to the weapon(s). This one a bit softer than the first one but still hard.

The third one Rom/Ram also Almost impossible to break but can be corrupt. If it gets hit by something really hard, He will lost some of his memories. If you break it, he will lost all of his ‘robot’ memories and only have the memories before he became a full humanoid. The last one, Emotion Processor if you break it. He will feel nothing. don’t feel bad, regret, guilty to anything they’ve done until it gets fix.

- He can play piano, electric and acoustic guitar along with bass and drum. He can sing too but he doesn’t want to mention it because when he sings his voice tone will go higher which made him sound like a girl.

- He doesn’t require sleep. He can refill his battery by doing nothing that involve using magic or complex movement for a while (If he got 0% it will take 2 hours to get back to 100%)

- He can still eat like normal living being

Note: All of art except his appearance belongs to original artist (I just found it on google)

Now Ortiz turn.

• [Name] : || Ortiztron Kinton or Ortiz for short • [Age] : || Have been running for 16 years • [Gender] : || technically male 

• [Height] : || 5 ft 1 inch

• [Species] : || Humanoid • [Ability] : || He can craft something out from the materials he got at the moment. The object(s) that come out from that process will depend on the amount of the materials, type and quality of the materials he got. He can craft weapons with materials around him.Example: If he got a hand size rock, he might create a key or little statue out of it. If he fight somewhere in the open space, he could create stone spikes from the rocks under the ground.    He also at reading living being mind and emotion. Basically, the opposite of Zitro. • [Weakness] : || However, his power is referred with physic and reality so- he sometimes asks Zitro for help when it comes to something that needs complicate the calculation For example: Is the weight of the roof and the size of the house balancing or not(?) He can’t craft something that too huge like 2-floor house or something that too op. He can’t make a huge bridge without the pillar in the power or make a huge boat from 1 wooden stick. He can’t craft weapon(s) or anything out of the materials that are too hard, for example, boron carbide (It used to make a tank shield) He not very good at very complicated mathematical calculation or puzzle. The bigger/complicate the object(s) he crafted was, the more battery required in that process. Small objects like a key will take him 2 seconds. A medium object such as spear will take him minimum 5 - 10 seconds. The maximum is 10 minutes (would be something complicated like Fishing Pole or Engraved Bangle.) A large object such as a giant door(?) (and all the objects that not higher or bigger than 2.5 meters/m^3 or 8.2 feet) will take minimum 15 minutes and maximum for a very complicated objects (that idk yet that what is it) will take 1 - 3 hours.(edited)

• [Personality] : || He energetic and jovial. He doesn’t really make a deadpan face like Zitro but sometimes make a poker face. He loves adventure and exploring. Short summary: quite opposite of Zitro • [Other info] : || He also has a headgear like Zitrotron but on the opposite side. He doesn’t require sleep. He can refill his battery by doing nothing that involves using magic or complex movement for a while (If he got 0% it will take 2 hours to get back to 100%) He can still eat like the normal living being He is Zitro’s little brother but he higher than Zitro. Ortiz can use Zitro weapon and weapon’s abilities He also shares his database and mind with Zitro so they can talk and share the data without anyone knowing they’re talking through their own network. He can share battery power with Zitro If need.

Ok done. Thx for reading! If you read it XDDD

COnGratZ B0I!

[lotidge]

Lotidge Playlist

Fickken Finally right guys? Did one of these for Shidge, so its only right that I do one for Lotidge!

- mod potential

1. If You Leave Me Now - Charlie Puth ft. Boyz II Men

He’s been hurt worse. He’s suffered wounds dealt to him by bigger and stronger opponents. But her? Lotor couldn’t even bear to label her as such. Even when she killed him like this.

2. Fire Meet Gasoline - Sia

That was the problem, Shiro mused. They were too much alike. They hurt the same way. Fought and killed similarly to. And when they met? On opposite sides of the war? How could their attraction not result in chaos?

3. Infected - Sidekick

It was their game. Catch him, catch her. Outsmart her, outsmart him. Over and over, such was the nature of this dangerous play of their’s. And Lotor relished the chase. Fangs flashing and claws sharpened. He loved it. And, deny it as she might, so did Pidge.

4. Morning Doves - Mikky Ekko

He was right there. Bleeding, weak, and defeated. It’d only take one shot, only one, and everything would be over. This war, this power struggle. All of it would be finished with a single mercy kill. But could Pidge bear to do it? When he looked at her, bleeding and broken and begging for it? I think you know the answer.

5. Take What I Can Get - Matthew Mayfield

There were moments when he was genuine. Where he was soft and boyish, and not at all this picture perfect Prince. Moments where he just sat back and relaxed, silver-white hair blowing all around him like ribbons. Moments where he simply laughed while sprinkling birdseed onto the ground. Naturally he never knew that Pidge had been witness to those moments, but she treasured them all the same.

6. Beautiful Girl - Broken Iris

In the void, Lotor knew only pain. Drawn-out, torturous pain. Pain that played with him. Chewed him up and spit him out. Even agony seemed unwilling to accept him. And whose form this this pain decide to take? Not Allura, she had all but died to him. No. It was someone different. Someone who had always been in the corner of his eye, and never fully in front of him. Someone with shining cold eyes and curling amber hair. Someone beautiful. Someone cruel.

7. Dark In My Imagination - of Verona

She knew that she should stop thinking about it. But Pidge couldn’t help it. He haunted her. She was losing even more of what little sleep she had. Lotor seemed to circle around her at night. She just...felt him. Hands cupping her neck from behind, claws cold and slicing against the soft skin. Velvety breath next to ear as he gasped her name like a tease. Gentle, silken tickles of his bright hair against her shoulder he leaned over and...Pidge shuddered. Willing her imagination to stop.

8. Hymn - Kesha

He had to wonder, would things have turned out different? If he had met her Voltron sooner? Would he have made the right choices then? The right friends? The right lover? The ‘what ifs’ hurt Lotor more than the ‘right nows’. Because he was stuck. Thrown away and forgotten all because no one thought of his worth. But maybe...What if...No. No. It hurt. It hurts. And no one can help him. Not now, not ever.

9. All Night - Beyonce

Pidge never thought they’d see each other again. She never thought that he’d look at her like that, Allura all but a blip on his radar. She never thought he’d touch her like that. So, so very gently. Like a promise. A terrifying promise he was scared of breaking. And she never thought her heart would hammer so loudly for him. For Lotor

10. Say Yes To Heaven - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

Shiro should’ve known, should’ve seen it sooner. Lotor was so gentle with Pidge now. The void had...changed him. Not just his personality but his priorities. He should’ve seen it sooner. But he didn’t.

11. Tell Me How To Feel - Maggie Eckford

Pidge couldn’t stop shacking for an entire varga after leaving the void. Everyone had written it off as stress from all the quintessence. But in her heart, she knew better. She had heard the name Lotor whispered after all that rage and fury and terror. And it haunted her. “Pidge”  

12. Roses - Lana Del Ray (Unreleased)

Pidge knew something was off before she even arrived at her door. There was this...overwhelming sweetness in the air. Somehow, someway it made her heart pound. The closer Pidge came to the source of it, her room, the warmer her body became. Flushing as if she was embarrassed. Then she saw it, when the door to her room slid open. The entirety of it absolutely covered in blushing flowers. Every shade of red, pink, and orange covered every inch of her room. Pidge stumbled back. Into a pair of warm arms. Silver hair flowing in her the corner of her eyes as she heard him. Lotor’s voice nothing more than a purr. “Hello Pidge~”

13. Requiem For Blue Jeans - Bastille

She was smarter than this. She had hacked the government, brokered peace deals, and helped defeat an evil warlord. She was better than this. But then Lotor threw her that look again and there went her heart. Flying up to her throat as he cornered her. All but pressing her up into the wall with his mouth, fangs sharp against her tongue. She’s smarter than this, Pidge told herself. But then whispered her name in such a way that made her want for something really, really stupid.

14. Angel On Fire - Halsey

Ambition burned in the both of them. Crawled under their skin like a disease. I can do better, I can do more, I can raze heaven and hell and force them to their knees. They were so alike in that sense. So prone to crashing and burning that it should’ve seemed obvious how brilliantly they collided with one another. Too kindred for hatred, and too spitting for infatuation. But just right for blazing, burning, scorching passion.

15. Give Me Love - Ed Sheeran

Pidge could understand it, she supposed. The loneliness of misunderstanding. Of no one giving you anymore than a single glance, a fleeting thought. Of being seen as so small and pathetic that you’re entire worth as a person became nothing. She could understand something like that. So it hurt her, deeper than words could explain, to leave Lotor there, in that void. Screaming for someone, anyone to please for the love of all that’s good and pure in this world listen to him, understand him please.

16. Daddy Issues - The Neighborhood

Lotor disliked gatherings like this. Women and pretty boys dancing on tables. The gag-worthy scents of smoke, booze, and other things he’d rather not name in the air. But this was where his informant wanted to meet, so the Prince relented. And then the imbecile didn’t show altogether. Gritting his fangs, Lotor was about to leave. Then he saw her. Hidden away and pressed onto the wall. A girl watching him. Those same lonely eyes reflecting back at him. Gilded and gold and unashamed. And, suddenly, Lotor found himself liking this place a lot more.

===

Feel free to add onto this or take any of these as writing prompts! Just be sure to tag ;)