#Already noticed a job which while not perfect I could possibly do though it’s not a certainty

[bluewithpurplepolkadots]

I think my New Year’s resolution is that I’m going to start applying for new jobs.

I won’t be super intense as I have a job and I do not have the mental capacity to hunt like I did when I was unemployed (honestly didn’t even then) but like… I think especially since I didn’t get the one which would have been a small promotion here means it’s maybe time to move on eventually. I know it’s nothing personal but like. I’m not feeling great about it still honestly.

I may have to get a job that lets me do a bit less physical stuff eventually anyway, sadly. I wouldn’t mind doing this kind of thing forever sometimes but… it’s probably not practical? Maybe? I mean lbr here I’m not sure what my body will be like when I’m 50 or like 60 you know? I don’t want to break myself. And by that time would I be able to leave?

God I hate job hunting. Does anyone like it though?

Anyway that’s my resolution: not that I’ll definitely get a new job but that I’ll try and see what’s out there.

NOT telling my parents though because they have an intense need to help with this kind of thing and lmao Noooo. I appreciate it but like they expect me to do nothing else with my free time when they know and I’m not doing that to myself again.

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆 (𝑫𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏)

I wanted to do this cute little writing challenge @carolmunson created. You can find the rules here

CW: Eddie munson x reader, fluff. New relationship. Mention of weed at least once. suggestive theme toward the end, but it's nothing bad, really. A little moment of self depreciation.

WC:1.9k

prompt rules: the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer.

props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook. dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order): "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" ; "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true." ; "and you like that?" ; "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem."

A/n: Not proofread, so please ignore any mistakes. My first time doing a writing challenge, and this one was too adorable to pass up.

5:00 pm

Eddie was busy rushing around the trailer, making sure it was clean and perfect before you came over. You and him haven't been dating for too long now. He still wanted to make a good impression on you. His original plan was to take you out on a nice romantic date, but as his luck would have it, he just couldn't afford to right now.

So he opted to suggest for you to come by and have a nice romantic date at his place instead. Which you were all for. Eddie zoomed around the place with a tiny notebook in his hand. He had literally everything planned out for how the night is supposed to go.

He even cooked and baked for you. He doesn't even do that for himself. He was dead serious about you. No more chickening out just because he's scared of the possibility of getting hurt.

You met at the Hideout in town when you first moved to Hawkins. He helped get you a job there by sweet talking the owner. Since then, he's been following you around like a lost puppy

Eddie finished having the entire living room set up for you two. Throw pillows everywhere along with extra blankets. Little tea light candles on saucer plates are scattered about. He kicked his uncle wayne out hours ago to set everything up for your date. He wanted the mood and setting to be just how envisioned it.

He would religiously check his watch over and over again. You weren't late by any means. Eddie was just getting impatient. He wanted you here so bad. He needed you to see what all he's done.

5:30 pm rolls around.

Soft knocks on his door alerted that you were finally here.

You were standing on his porch, waiting for him to answer. You still held the little note he left you after work in your hand.

Hey, babe, I hope you're still ready for our date tonight. I know I am. You don't need to bring anything but yourself. I have everything we need. Miss you already.

- Eddie ᡣ𐭩

You reread it as you waited for him to open up for you. You didn't want to just barge in even though he's told you many times you absolutely could.

You knock again.

"Comin" His muffled voice yelled from inside. You could hear his feet pounding on the floor as he swung open the door.

"Hey!" You greeted with a big smile. "Can I come in?"

He opened the door fully ,ushering you inside with a slight bow. "Shit, yeah, come in. come in."

You walked in and stood by the front door, looking around, you noticed how he decorated and cleaned up for you. You smiled to yourself thinking about all the trouble he's gone through tonight just for you.

"You can have a seat or keep me company in the kitchen." He stood next to you but kept some distance.

"I'd love to. Ya need me to help with anything?" You walked slowly behind him to stand behind the counter.

Eddie definitely didn't want you to help. The only thing he needed you to do was simply be here. That's it. That's all he needed. Your presence and showing up were enough for him.

"Nope." He shook his head, continuing to spread vanilla frosting on the cupcakes he made.

You could tell he was nervous. He shouldn't be. While you haven't been dating for long, you figured you two were past being nervous around each other. Eddie did warn you that he wasn't always the best at relationships. He tried to be. He truly did. His fears of heartbreak and rejection are what held him back from opening up to someone. He wanted to change all of that with you. You still gave him a chance despite all of that.

There was silence for a couple of minutes as you stand next time. "Sooo, whatcha cookin? smells good."

"Spaghetti and for dessert homemade cupcakes straight from Betty crocker herself." Eddie glanced your way to see if he got a smile from you. Even better, he got a laugh out of you.

"Do you mind if I have one now?" You batted your lashes at him. You loved innocently flirting with him. He would get all flustered, and his cheeks would get red.

He looked between you and the cupcakes that he attempted at frosting. "Sure." He couldn't say no.

He was sucker for you already. You had him wrapped around your finger, and you didn't even know it.

You picked up a tiny cupcake that was covered in ninety percent icing. You took a big bite, getting the vanilla frosting all over your lips and nose. Eddie watched in amusement with a small blush on his cheeks.

"Hang on, let me do something." He leans forward, giving the tip of your nose a quick kiss. "You had some frosting from the cupcake-"

Your face got hot as you realized he was kissing away the frosting.

"I have icing on my lips, too." You teased. You wanted to poke the bear and see how far you could go. Eddie took the hint and knew you were messing with him.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine." He puckered up his lips to give you a sweet kiss. "The frosting tastes way better this way."

You can tell he's loosening up the longer you're alone with him. At first, he seemed on edge. As if he was still trying his hardest to impress you. Or to do his best and not scare you off. He didn't have to worry about a thing. You were just as serious about him as he was about you.

You noticed a small black notebook on the counter next to splatters of spaghetti sauce. You sneakily make your way over to it and have peak while he's busy. His eyes were trained on making little smiley faces on the cupcakes. Flipping through the pages, you saw how he wrote down tonight's schedule for your date. He had everything planned out down to if he'd ask you to spend the night or let you leave.

Turning the next page, you found little love notes scribbled through made out to you. You glance his way, and he's still busy huming to himself while adding sprinkled to the cupcakes. You closed it and sneakily put it back. The tiny notebook seemed very personal from the quick glimpse you got from it. Either way, your heart was melting at the thought of Eddie wanting this night to be perfect.

"I figured we could chill out in the living room while we eat. Watch some movies, too."Eddie spoke up.

"Sounds perfect to me." You stepped out of the kitchen to lounge back on his couch.

Eddie followed behind you with two big bowls of spaghetti he made. "I'll get the drinks for us. Anything special? Water? Soda?"

You grabbed your bowl from his hands. "Got any Doctor Pepper?"

"I suuuuure do." He winked.

He rushed back in with a beer in one hand and a plastic cup full of ice with your drink in the other. "I ran out of like, nice cups, Is this okay?"

"Yes, Eddie I wasn't expecting to drink, Dr. Pepper from a champagne glass." You carefully took your drink.

"Listen -" He paused, sitting next to you. "I just want you to know you mean a lot to me. And if i could provide it, all of your drinks would be poured in some fancy ass cup." He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt awkward after saying that, but it was all true.

Eddie really wasn't a pro at this sort of thing. he hoped by now you knew how special already are to him. Even with his shitty analogies. He hoped you got the message.

"That was...one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me." You took a big sip, Dr Pepper smiling in your cup.

"You're such a smartass."

Now, it was his turn to laugh. He got up and went over to the tv, picking up the three movies he "rented."

"Went to family video got a couple of things to watch - and a special one for later." He wiggled his eyebrows. The "special one" was literally Star Wars. He's been dying to watch it with you ever since you told you never seen it.

You rolled your eyes. "That guy Steve give you a deal?"

"Sure did. All I had to do was give an ounce for free." Eddie held up three VHS tapes in one hand, showing his victory.

"Okay, then what movie are we watching first?" You nodded, taking the throw pillow next to you in your lap.

"What about critters?" He suggested.

You shook your head and grimaced. "Eww !no, that movie is stupid it's just a bunch of hairballs attacking people."

Eddie snorts, popping the movie into the vcr anyway." Now you know how my uncle wayne feels cleaning out our shower drain."

You fake gagged. The last thing you want to imagine is globs of Eddie's hair being pulled from a shower drain as you eat.

"So, ummm, I was thinking," it was your turn to get a nervous now. "Are you free tomorrow?"

He frowned. "No. I wish. I have my D&D club to...morrow." He started to hesitate through speaking.

"D&d club?" You repeated. "Dungeons and Dragons? That kind of D&d?"

"Yep." He spoke a little too loud and a little too fast.

The intro to the movie is already playing, but neither one of you are interested.

"And you like that sort of stuff?" You quickly realized how that probably came off wrong, and it's not how you intended. "I mean, you just never mentioned it before."

Truth is, he doesn't know why he never mentioned it. Maybe it's because he was always told it was just a fantasy game. That he was too old to be playing it. Eddie didn't care what anyone thought of him except for you. Which deep down is probably why he didn't tell you.

"Yeah, sweetheart, you're dating a bit of a loser." He sighed. Any minute now, he was expecting you to make fun of him. Or call him a loser, too.

That never came.

He shouldn't assume you would see him like that. Primarily over something harmless as playing Dungeon and Dragons.

Make no mistake Eddie didn't view himself as a loser either. He got too accustomed to hearing people calling him that based on the way he dressed and his hobbies. He didn't see himself that way, but others did.

Your face softens "aw don't be like that. That's not even true!"

You looked at him for a moment. Taking in his side profile. You could tell he was slowly slipping into a funk, and you didn't want that.

You by no means have ever thought Eddie was a loser. He was a sweet, gentle, and very caring guy. A little hyper at times. But you loved that about him too.

"I'd like to watch you play sometime. If you wouldn't mind."

Eddies eyes light up. "I could always teach you how to play instead."

"I'd love that. Why didn't you tell me any of this?" You turned your body so you're now facing him. You were still hugging that throw pillow so tight.

"Well, I was trying to play hard to get. if I told you I was a dungeon master for my club-" His tone dripped with sarcasm as he continued on.

He was trying to lighten up the mood a bit more. "You wouldn't be able to keep your hands off me. bad enough, you couldn't seem to resist my gorgeous hair."

Eddie waved a hand through his hair, letting it fly over his shoulder. He was cut short when you decided to take that throw pillow from your lap and thwap the back of his head with it.

"Ow!" He laughed, looking at you in shock.

"Your hair is hard to resist," your tone matching his sarcasm, "and miss." You mumbled under your breath.

"Oh please, I'm irresistible." He chuckled.

You went to go strike him again with the pillow, but this time, he caught it.

"If you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem." Eddie playfully warned, snatching the throw pillow from your hands.

"Oooh, and what exactly are you gonna do about it?" You taunted.

"I dunno maybe kiss you again. Maybe I'll touch you a little bit, see if I can get you to squirm." He smirked and bit his lip, waiting for your reaction.

That shy nervous wreck of a man that greeted you at the front door was long now.

Your eyes widened as you huffed. "Shut up, Eddie."

"Thought so, now watch the movie our date isn't over yet."

[kaily010]

Lets play~

(Alastor x reader)

Description: You're Lilith's younger daughter. While Charlie was the perfect child, you never seemed to be good enough. Well, after she disappeared, you made up your mind when you found out her secret....

You walked down the streets of hell, watching sinners and demons reaction to noticing you. You were the younger daughter of the morningstars, so it was no surprise to you to see them cower or run away.

But you couldn't think of this right now.

You had a mission, a place to be. You needed to find someone. Someone that you knew, all so well, would share your interest.

You walked through Cannibaltown, seeing corpses being consumed while the sickening sound of riping flesh and pained whimpers could be heard.

The poor soul that fell victim to a cannibal on your left seemed to be still alive. You sighted but didn't interfere.

That wasn't your job, and it would do you no good to be known as merciful. You needed to be tough. Otherwise, the reputation you build up over all these years would be for nothing. No one would respect the second princess of hell when she had mercy for someone as low in rank as that demon. Well, at least not in hell.

While you thought about that, trying to be as heartless as possible, you reached your destination. Rosie's establishment.

You knew, for a matter of fact, that the radio demon would be there. After sending out your little shadow spies, you knew when he would be here. You also just could've walked straight up to the hotel and asked him there, but that wouldn't work with your sister there.

You didn't want her to know anything about what would be happening.

You entered the store, even though the sing outside said 'closed'. You looked around a bit till Rosie approached you.

"Hello your Highness, how can I help you?"

She clearly was annoyed that you disturbed the little tea party of hers, but you couldn't care less.

"I was searching for someone. He should be your guest at the moment, Alastor. I need to talk to him!"

You answered her question confidently, watching her facial expressions change to a surprised one.

"Uhmm, yeah, sure, would you like some tea while discussing whatever brings you here?"

You simply nod, following here to a room upstairs, caring yourself with as much grace and confidence you could bring up. You had to hold up the act at any cost. Otherwise, it could be used against you. Even though nobody down here would dare do that, you wanted to be sure. She was everywhere, always watching.

As we entered the room she led me to, I looked around. There was a table near a huge window which led to a balcony. Tea cups and cake placed on it.

When my eyes wandered up, I met his gaze. He grinned smugly at me, almost as if he knew already why I was here.

"Greetings! How can I help you your highness?~"

"I have something to discuss with you."

I looked over my shoulder and glanced at Rosie. She nodded and left, and I sat down on the opposite side of the table.

"I want to make a deal with you."

I watched as his eyes widened, and it looked like he was surprised.

"Well, I certently did expect that.... May I ask why you, out of all hellish kind, would need my help?"

I sighted. This was the moment everything would change. If I say it out loud, I wouldn't be able to take it back. I had to decide whether I really wanted this and wanted revenge for what has been taken from me. Whit the magic I held, I quickly send out my shadows to make sure no one other would hear what I was about to say.

"I know why you've been absent for so long."

He froze in place, smile still remaining but looking as if it was fake, as if it had dropped if it could. But he couldn't. He couldn't allow anyone to see behind his masquerade.

"I know who you made a deal with, and I want to destroy her as much as you want to. I can help you get free from your chains if you help me achieve my revenge."

"My dear.... I'm afraid you don't know what you're saying. As much as I wish you'd speak the truth, im afraid that what you desire can't be accomplished. Not from you or me."

"You don't know everything. She might be stronger in power, but that doesn't mean it's not worth a shot. I guarantee you that I'll make sure you won't get hurt and that in the end, if everything works out as planned, we'll both be finally free from the misery her existence brings us."

I watched as the gears in his head worked while he looked down on his tea. It was risky for both of us. But I had nothing to lose, and from what I knew, he didn't either. I held my hand out, waiting how he would decide as I spoke.

"So what do you say? Are you willing to play this game with me?"

He sighted.

"How could I resist a good game?"

He took me hand and green, and red light illuminated the room.

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

An: heyy ok so this the best I could do and I hope you like it. I don't know if I will continue this but we'll see what comes next.... take care<3

[wttcsms]

"i (Nanami Kento) bet on losing dogs" x the losing dog (reader)

no other sadness in the world would do, kento nanami ;

pairing kento nanami x f!reader word count 1.5k synopsis a quiet and intimate examination of modern day suffering content contains implied abusive spouse (for reader), implied unrequited love (nanami has feelings for reader)

There is nothing in this world that Kento Nanami despises more than baseless loyalty. 

What a pathetic trait, he would think to himself. How could someone just blindly follow someone, constantly chasing after their shadow, only to be mistreated time and time again? It’s disgusting. Shameless. Weak.

He feels disgusting, shameless, weak. 

Powerless, too. That’s a new one. That’s how things usually go when it’s just the two of you; you start evoking all sorts of new emotions, like he’s a video game character and you’re helping him unlock upgrades to his character. It’s a bit disarming, really. Kento much prefers to remain as impassive as possible while in the office because unnecessarily giving up any pieces of himself to this skyscraper shithole feels like he’s letting his stupidly rich clients win. 

Kento likes routine, which is why he settles into one quickly and refuses to make adjustments unless absolutely necessary.

Login, watch the markets, log off. Nothing more, nothing less. 

And then you became his new desk partner, and his perfect, meticulous cycle is thrown off course.

Being observant does more harm than good. He notices the shiny ring on your finger and draws an invisible, never-to-be-passed boundary. He already has made up his mind on not engaging with any of his coworkers, female or male, married or otherwise, but with you, he makes the mental effort to visualize the line, the flashing red warning signs, the whole nine-yards. This is the first sign that you are going to fuck up his life. Already, you’re embedded in his insides, owning real estate in his subconscious long before he can even realize it.

At first, you don’t talk to him much; you don’t talk to most of the men working here, and Kento can’t fault you for that. Most of them are assholes, and all of them don’t have any morals. If this wasn’t the case, they wouldn’t be working here, after all.

Eventually, you start to withdraw, and Kento becomes the person you’re most comfortable with talking to. What you see is what you get with him. Kento refuses to be one of those people who are a waste of perfectly good oxygen, and he doesn’t speak unless it’s absolutely necessary. You’re in an industry where men purposely like to talk over women, just because they can get away with it. With Kento, you are given free rein of the conversation. It’s kismet, you and him.

He gets used to your constant conversation, never seeming to be put off by the fact that he doesn’t offer up his opinion unless explicitly asked. Kento normally doesn’t like it when people talk to him when he’s trying to get work done, but your voice is pleasant, your topics always interesting (“do you think there are different levels in Hell, or is a one-victim murderer being prodded by pitchforks right next to Hitler?”), and he finds that listening to you speak relaxes him somewhat. He doesn’t go home with a tightness in his shoulders and a persistent, throbbing ache in his head that aspirin can’t seem to fix. 

The first time Kento initiates conversation is when he sees you wearing a blazer during the sweltering heat of one of Japan’s most unforgiving summers. 

“A bit warm for all that,” he says, trying to adjust his tone and make it sound like a joke. Even if it did sound like a joke, he knows that your reaction would remain the same.

“Oh,” you give a nervous, insincere laugh, reflexively tugging on the sleeves even though your arms are still very much covered. “I get cold easily.”

That’s a lie. Kento knows because he knows you well enough to tell that you are the most genuine person he has ever interacted with. He doesn’t know how you ended up with this job when you’re much better suited for a career that actually helps people. He thinks back to when the office’s air conditioning went haywire and blasted the office with near-freezing temperatures. You had remained in your short-sleeved blouse, saying that you love the cold.

He doesn’t call you out on it, though. He just makes a noise from the back of his throat and turns back to his monitor. 

He can only pretend to ignore your erratic behavior for so long. You keep yourself covered to the point where you make a nun seem indecent. You withdraw from him, not initiating conversation unless Kento brings something up (he’s never been good at making small talk, and so more often than not, the conversation fizzles out quickly and awkwardly). And then you come to work with a black eye, and Kento refuses to let you suffer in silence any longer.

You break down and cry, feeling pathetic, feeling lost. You beg him not to say anything to anybody, that this is just a rough patch, that this’ll pass, and everything will be okay. Amidst your sobs, Kento finds himself wondering who you’re trying to convince right now. 

He holds you on the comedown. 

Now, there’s a new cycle. Things don’t get better for you; it doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure that one out. If a man lays his hands on you once, he’ll do it again. And again. And again. 

To take a life is a serious thing, but sometimes, there are worse ways to kill someone without ever murdering them. Your husband is killing you right now, a slow, soul-sucking type of death, and Kento would like to kill him. Some people are more curse than human. 

What did your husband do, Kento wonders, to make you fall in love with him? What can your husband do to make you finally wake up and realize that he is entirely undeserving of your love? 

Kento Nanami does not belong to any religion, does not attend church, does not even bother questioning the possibilities of a potential afterlife because his current life is already a bust as is. But after every late night he spends comforting and consoling you, holding you while you wet his button-down with your tears, he goes home and prays that you get the strength to fucking leave him. Pack your bags and get the hell out of Tokyo. Even if it means he’ll never see you again, the only person who makes this insufferable existence somewhat bearable. 

But the cycle doesn’t seem to ever break. He’s watching you fade away, and he decides that all the faith systems are fucked up for ignoring his pleas. 

“You should leave him.” He tells you, handing you a tissue. It’s technically a waste of breath; he tells you this shit all the time, and you never take his advice, but he says it anyway. Foolishly hoping that this time will be the time where you decide to listen to him. 

(And besides, he finds that anything he says to you could never be a waste.)

“But I love him.” You give him that same sad, watery smile, and Kento wants to pity you, but you wouldn’t accept it. Outwardly, he treats you the same as he used to, before he knew all that stuff that happens to you behind closed doors, because he knows what it’s like to be treated like you’re incapable of processing anything but kindness. The sweet, sugary kind of kindness, too — none of that blunt, pragmatic stuff. Kismet, he snorts. How fortunate that the kindness you need — re: blunt, pragmatic — is the only type he’s capable of giving to you.

Being treated like you’re surrounded by broken glass and everyone around you is trying desperately to avoid it makes people feel even worse. When Yu died, everyone acted like not being overly nice to Kento would somehow make him snap and go off the deep-end. The fact of the matter is, none of these people have ever been so overly cautious around him, and it actually made the pain of losing Yu somehow more unbearable. 

There are lots of replies that rest on the tip of his tongue. 

But does he love you? 

Why? 

Have some self respect, holy shit.

Your love is killing you from the inside out.

I could love you.

He tosses away your snotty tissues into the trash can, somehow not disgusted by you even though you think he should be. His grocery list now includes painkillers, band-aids, and bruise ointment. He thinks prayers are a waste of time, and before bed, he takes a shot in the dark and hopes some benevolent god is rooting for you like he is. There is nothing in the world that Kento Nanami despises more than baseless loyalty.

“I know.” And he leaves it at that.

[coff33andb00ks]

capture you - GR

summary: let me stay right here just a moment longer, the picture is so clear, please, let this last forever word count: 1k pairing: george russell x photographer!reader (lilli. it's lilli) warnings: just pure fluff a.n.: part two of my I need Lilli to have an amazing birthday series! this is once again for @maxlarens note: painting i describe (badly) is The Day Dream by Dante Rossetti <one of my favorite romanticism pantings>

He always used to see the camera first. It was his first sign that you were around. Then, as time passed, as he grew accustomed to you, he would see the flash of your hair out the corner of his eye and then the camera. He isn't sure when, exactly, but now he notices your perfume before he sees you.

He can smell it now as he chats with Mick and Lewis, and as Mick comments on tires George darts his eyes to his left for a split second. You're there, across the garage, your ever-present camera raised, and he knows he can relax now.

You watch him through the viewfinder, feeling voyeuristic even though it's literally your job. It's not your fault that he's so photogenic. The camera always focuses on him, and the rest of the team has given up teasing you for having more photos of George than anyone else.

Which is silly, because you make sure to take just as many photos of Lewis as you do George.

When you can.

If possible.

If you remember, which you never do.

You blink and he's in front of you. And, because you can, you snap a possibly unflattering photo of him – spoiler alert: it isn't – and lower the camera with a smile.

"We're still on tomorrow, right?" he asks.

You nod. "I've already reserved the passes."

His lips twitch into a fine line for a millisecond. He hates when you spend money on the outings you take together. Not due to some primal he-man must provide for woman instinct, but because—

"Goodness, Lilli, won't you let me spoil you?"

"You can buy me dinner," you say, smiling.

The fine line is gone, replaced by the smile you know and love. The one that makes his eyes crinkle and his rarely seen dimples appear. "Alright."

The rest of the day is hectic and then becomes chaotic, and for the first race weekend in nearly a year you have more photos of Lewis than George. You're gutted for him, for having to retire early at his home race, but you're so happy for Lewis. And George is too – chuffed to bits honestly. You're swept up in the celebrations and are nursing a small hangover in the morning when you climb into the helicopter for the brief ride to London.

George's hand covers yours, but he doesn't say anything, and you smile weakly, staring at your knees to keep your stomach settled. He used to tease you about your nerves when flying, now he offers quiet support.

You love that about him.

The museum is hushed and you stand in awe despite visiting it several times before.

George looks on, a fond smile that you don't notice pulling at his lips. He's been here once or twice before. Not with you, so this is new. He's used to seeing you always in motion, always bouncing and twisting and twirling to get the perfect shot. Even away from the job you're his hummingbird, flitting from one thing to another with boundless energy, leaving traces of ethereal beauty in your wake. But now you're still, your breath hushed as though too harsh an inhale would disturb the masterpieces that surround you.

There's a reverence in each step you take, a gentleness to every movement that he rarely sees. You're not there to look but to view, to study, to learn, to share thoughts. In a respectful murmur you read each placard and in each word he hears your passion for each piece you view together.

He could watch you like this all the days of his life. He wishes you'd brought your camera, wishes he'd thought to bring his.

Wishes he could freeze time so you could study every hall, every corner, every detail in every painting and sculpture while he studied you.

He can't, but he does take out his phone to take a photo of you. Chin tipped up, staring at a painting, your eyes sweeping slowly, and he can see the corner of your mouth tipped up. He doesn't check to make sure the photo comes out – doesn't matter, it'll never encapsulate how he feels in this moment – and lowers his phone.

You're staring at the painting like he stares at you.

George wonders if his love and admiration is so obvious to onlookers. Wonders if the painting – a woman in green, sitting beneath a tree – knows how lucky it is to have your gaze.

He reads the placard. The artist's name is slightly familiar, but—

"He was in love with her," you say, hushed and soft.

George lifts his eyes to the painting. "Was he?"

"They were having an affair, I think. But look at the way the tree shelters her, almost like a secret spot. And the use of green? It evokes a peacefulness, so she may have quieted his mind." You tip your head to study the painting some more. "I think the honeysuckle represented love in Victorian times, and she's holding some."

He takes in each detail as you describe it, the painting coming more to life. "Do you think she loved him? Or vice versa?"

"I like to think it was mutual," you murmur. "I hope she realized how beautiful she was to him."

You stand in silence for several moments before he speaks again.

"I wish I had the talent to capture my love in such a way that people will see it over a hundred years from now."

"Does love need to be broadcast?" you ask softly.

His hand slides over yours and you both sigh as your fingers interlock. "No, I suppose it doesn't," he whispers. "But it would be nice, wouldn’t it, for others to see the object of your adoration as you see it?"

"I don't need a painting, George." You look at him and he turns to look at you.

"I would give you the world if you'd let me, Lilli" he whispers.

"You already do," you promise.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 12

Masterlist

Warnings: nothing, not a damn thing 🤭

There's a near painful casualness to the joyful way you greet him in the morning.

Standing by his car, arms crossed, his impassive expression seems to lighten when he catches sight of you leaving your apartment.

"Hey Billy!" You say, noting the subtle way his hands flex when he reaches for your door, opening it for you.

He says your name in return, a low sound, that goes straight down to your toes and back up before stopping in your chest.

You smile, thanking him as you duck into the passenger seat of his car, automatically pulling on your seatbelt.

You're vibrating with excitement, maybe too much, the knowledge that he touched himself while watching you gives you a power you didn't know you craved until now.

"I hope your night wasn't too bad." You knowingly tease, watching him swallow as he begins driving.

"It was actually pretty decent," he murmurs, eyes fixed forward, focused on the road, "Though, one of my neighbors gave me quite an eyeful."

You already have your response locked and loaded.

"Oh no," you murmur with false sympathy, "Must have been quite a shock."

"It was."

You hum, nodding your head.

"I guess, that's kind of a consequence of having neighbors." You turn to eye him, "Sometimes you just see things."

He spares you a glance, your expression calm and polite, as if you didn't touch yourself with your curtains open for him to see last night.

"Maybe you're right." He concedes.

"Of course I am."

He smiles.

.

"How have you two not fucked yet." Dani says, deep in thought.

"I don't knooooow." You whine, flopping onto your couch with a huff.

After thinking for a moment, you speak.

"Maybe he just doesn't like me." Your voice is muffled in the couch but she hears you anyway.

"We're not looking at this the right way." Dani suddenly says, which makes you raise your head curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when he first offered you the job, didn't you specifically say that you wouldn't take the job if he wanted to fuck you?"

You groan, burying your head back into your couch.

Was this what it had come to? Your own words being thrown back at you?

"Yes." You answer.

"So what if this is just him doing what you asked."

You let out another frustrated sound.

"You're telling me that I'm the reason I'm not getting fucked senseless right now?"

"...Yes?" Dani says, a little chuckle escaping her when she sees you wriggle angrily on the couch.

"What do I doooooo." You fake cry, raising your head to give Dani your best sad face.

She leans forward, a brightness in her eyes, that gets your undivided attention.

"Here are your options, one, turn up the heat, flirt with him, wear prettier clothes, make him notice you. Option two, get him jealous, turn your attention on someone else and then see if he tries harder to keep you close. Lastly," She leans back, steeples her fingers like the mastermind she is, "forget about him and maybe actually move on because there is a possibility that he's just not that into you."

You groan in frustration.

You didn't like any of those options, wearing nicer things meant being noticed by not only Billy, but other people too. Making him jealous implied that you had to be willing to get to know another person, which you were not.

And forgetting about him? Is probably what you should have done from the start.

"Can't I just parade naked in front of my windows for the foreseeable future?" You ask, watching as Dani's focused expression morphs into a grin.

"You could, but I doubt it would get you fucked."

You swallow.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because you would have been fucked by now."

Oh, how you hated when she was right.

.

"I overslept I'm so sorry." Is what you say to Billy when he sees you, rushing out of your aparment building. You do look slightly disheveled, as if you didn't have time to smooth your look into perfection like you usually do.

He smiles, opening his car door for you as usual, and listening to the breathless way you thank him.

When he gets into the car, he can still hear your overzealous breathing.

"You're alright," he tries to reassure you, "It's okay to be a few minutes late."

"Sorry, I just- I'm sorry if you were waiting long."

"It's okay, no need to apologize." He finishes, turning on his indicator so he can pull out onto the street.

"Do you mind- is it okay if I finish doing my makeup?" You ask, he can hear the worry still laced in your voice.

"Yes, of course," he says, keeping his voice even, trying to soothe you.

You breathe another word of thanks before pulling out your mascara from your bag.

Billy fights the urge to watch, with rapt facination. He finds the idea of it intriguing. He's curious to see your little routine, wonders how much it would differ from his own.

He quietly loves the domesticity of it all, him driving to work while you feel comfortable enough around him to apply your makeup.

At a traffic light, he can't resist turning to look at you.

You glance back, touching up your mascara before closing it.

"What?" You ask, rummaging in your bag for something else.

You're beautiful, he wants to say, with and without makeup.

Out loud he says,

"I'm just fascinated by the process."

You smile at him.

His heart stops when you pull out a tube of red lipstick.

It's not just red, red is an understatement. It's crimson, it's burgundy, it's the colour of spilt blood on fresh snow.

He swallows as you swipe the wand over the pout of your lips.

When someone blares their horn, he turns his head back to the road, driving off when he realises the lights have turned green.

He tries not to look, worries he might get lost in it.

The predator stirs within him, demanding he stop torturing them both.

He takes a shuddering breath.

"Are you okay?"

He's unable to respond, eyes fixed on the road.

The beast thinks about how the shade would look smeared across your mouth.

"Billy?" You say, concern heavy in your voice.

He sighs.

"I'm fine."

He's not.

.

It's a fast drive to work, and he avoids looking at you the rest of the way there.

When he parks, and you get out, he's already walking away from you, heading in the direction of the basement security booth, directly opposite from the elevators.

"See you this evening." Is all he says, not even sparing you a glance back.

You huff.

.

An emergency conference meeting puts you in his path once more.

There's an hour till lunch, and Billy tries not to fidget as he waits patiently for you and the rest of his team to show up.

He hears you laughing with someone outside as you draw nearer to the meeting room and his mood sours further.

When he sees you, he almost wants to fucking collapse.

Your mouth draws his attention, the vibrant shade catches his eye, makes his stomach flip.

You smile at him, and he nods evenly in return, looking down at his phone, trying to distract himself from staring at you.

Your mouth is divine, he wants to lean in, press his mouth to yours, feel the desire build inside of him until it has nowhere to go but out. He wants to rub his nose against yours, he wants your lipstick smeared across his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, his chest, his cock-

"Mister Russo?"

He doesn't startle, simply moves his eyes to stare firmly at the man that dared interrupt him from his thoughts of you.

The man in question swallows.

"What do you think?"

He sucks in a deep breath.

Turning to look at you, you meet his gaze head on.

God, that's a lot of fire.

"I'm assuming you can justify your actions?" Billy says to you.

"Of course I can." You say evenly, confident, like you know exactly what you're doing and everyone else is just in the way.

"Well?"

The corner of your lip twitches, you were just playing with everyone in the room, weren't you?

You turn to look at Phil, his IT managing director.

"If I told you what I was going to do, you would have taken action to stop me. Even indirectly, sometimes just the knowledge of a potential security breach would put you on edge, which puts your team on edge. The best attack is one done unexpectedly."

Phil shakes his head.

"You're the person designing the system, you work here, of course you're going to understand how to get around our protocols."

You pause for a moment, looking right at Phil, who, to Billy's credit, doesn't show any outward expression, despite the scent of intimidation rolling off of him.

You're playing with him, and you look so much like a predator in this moment that Billy feels his heart swell.

"It sounds to me, that you're making the assumption that security breaches are only ever going to come from people who lack the skills to beat the system. And while, sure, majority may not have the skill, we need to consider the possibility that one day, someone might."

Phil is unable to form a rebuttal, and after a minute he mutters.

"Someone should at least know when you plan to rip into the same system you design."

You nod, clicking your pen and pulling out your notepad to write something down.

"Noted. I'll send Mr. Russo a heads up."

Phil turns to look at him, and Billy feels the need to placate both parties.

"Not to worry, I understand the systems are still being set up and understood. Hopefully, we come out of this stronger."

He nods at both of you, feels a little bit more proud of what he's building.

"Have a good lunch." Phil bids, before walking out of the conference room.

You reel on him as soon as the door clicks shut, eyes full of passion that it startles him.

"Holy fucking shit Billy I just came up with the best fucking idea."

He stares at your animated form for a second, before he can't contain his humour, tilting his head back and laughing.

"There's no time for laughing, Russo! Get it together- look-" You move across to his side of the table, right into his space and drops your little notepad into the spot in front of him.

He squints, but your passionate handwriting makes zero sense.

"Did you make a note to tell me before you try to break into my system?"

He looks at you, your expression moves from one of excitement to confusion.

"What? No- fuck that- I mean, respectfully, sure I'll warn you but-" You glance down at the notepad, while he continues to just look at you.

"I've been thinking about it for a while, what if someone really good tries to hack the system? Better than me I mean."

Billy is seriously doubting at this point that there is anyone better than you.

"If we make it look like it's reasonably difficult, someone trying to get access won't question it. Someone smarter, will just think that we lack the brain power for a sophisticated system."

His eyes draw to your mouth, he's trying hard to focus but some of his essential blood supply is currently making his cock swell.

"So you're suggesting, we offer a fake room full of information to hide the real room?"

"Yesssss," You hiss happily, looking down before tapping your pen to your mouth.

The universe has no mercy for him, he watches the pen smudge your lipstick.

It's beyond him, he can't stop himself, his hands reach up to cup either side of your face.

You make a little sound of surprise, being distracted from your complicated thought processes, suddenly focused on him.

Your eyes are wide, and fixed right on him. He takes pleasure in that, wants your focus on him, and him alone.

.

His hands are warm, as usual, holding your face gently as he looks at you.

Was this it? Was he going to kiss you?

He sighs, takes a step closer so that your bodies are right against each others.

Your stomach flips, you almost want to beg.

"This colour is beautiful on you." He murmurs finally, his thumb reaching out to swipe gently at the edge of your bottom lip.

Your breath catches, you think about taking his thumb into your mouth.

Your brain stalls as you stare at him.

He tilts his head, smiles, deep in thought.

"What do we say?"

"What?"

"When someone gives a compliment, what do we say?"

"Th- thank you." You stutter out.

Ever patient, he nods.

"Good girl."

Your mouth parts in shock.

He pulls his hands away, taking a step back.

"Enjoy your lunch." He bids, before leaving you alone in the conference room with parted lips and damp underwear.

.

You lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, fingers curled around your necklace, deep in thought.

You wonder who the panther is, wondering if you knew them at all.

You try to turn it over in your head but there's too many things you don't know, and not enough information.

You don't even know where to start looking for this information, searches online giving no real help beyond the realm of fantasy.

But this wasn't fantasy anymore, shapeshifters were real, a fact.

It made the world that much more dangerous.

Or maybe not, considering that most of your troubles had come from human roots anyway.

You sigh, rolling over, and sucking in a deep breath when you come face to face with the panther.

You raise your head, looking around.

Had you fallen asleep?

The panther hums to get your attention, leaning in until the top of his head brushes your cheek.

"Hey kitty." You greet softly, hearing the rough purring start up as the panther settles its body next to yours.

You sigh softly, pressing your face into his fur, giving his ear a little kiss, and feeling it flick gently.

His tail smacks against your knee as it waves in a haphazard direction.

You smile, tossing an arm over his back, sighing in bliss when you can almost feel the softness of his fur like he's really here with you.

You lay like that for a bit, on your side, curled against the panther when suddenly a human hand reaches for you.

It grips your jaw, turns your head up and away from the panther.

Billy, with warm fingers and a gentle smile, doesn't hesitate to lay his mouth across yours.

You groan, pressing your head up and firmer against his mouth, desperate for a taste of him.

He pulls back for a moment, before giving you another quick kiss and he's gone, leaving you tucked against the panther for the rest of the night.

You wake up in the morning, curled around a pile of your pillows, disoriented, looking around for your panther before the realisation hits you, that you'd only been dreaming.

.

.

.

[chaibewriting]

HANDS OFF! ft. street rat! shota aizawa (aladdin au) x feisty! noble! dom! fem! afab! reader

-> NOTES: street rat! shota aizawa pickpockets the wrong noblewoman and pays the price in more ways than one. i wrote this without much thought or brain meats so im sorry if its not my best work 🙇🏾

-> WARNINGS: hypnosis, dubcon, gagging, unprotected sex, virigin aizawa (bc i said so), dry humping, unedited and unbeta read cause i’m lazy

THE human body needed a few basic things in order to survive, even at the bare minimal, one of those necessities happened to be food. And unfortunately, mainly due to his lack of social ranking in the hierarchy, a young scoundrel by the name of Shota was forced to heavily rely on his abilities to get his next meal. And no, they’re not any kind of special ability— unless you consider pickpocketing and pawning to be something special, then fuck just call him Superman.

Interrupted from his thoughts, the shaggy dark-haired man pressed a hand onto his stomach, grunting at the rumble that was embarrassingly loud. A few passerbys in the streets had walked past him with rather weary looks, shuffling away from him while clinging onto their belongings. He barely spared them a glance, knowing that there was a much more interesting target just up ahead.

This woman was wearing something custom made, something he’d never seen before, which brought him to the justified assumption that she was rich. And if he played his cards correctly, he could swipe a couple things from her that he could pawn off and have enough to not only feed himself for the next couple of nights but also enough to buy some food for the stray cats he’s ‘adopted’ that he often finds lingering around in alleys. He had plenty of experience with pickpocketing, it didn’t matter who his target was he always landed his mark and got away without a scratch.

So… how exactly did he end up in this predicament?

That was his first mistake.

Shota had picked up the speed of his stride, soon closing in on you from behind without trying to look too suspicious, making it seem as if he was simply trying to pass you to get to his next destination as quickly as possible. It should have been easy. It was always easy for him, but you apparently decided to rip the rug from right under his feet, catching him redhanded when he attempted to dig his hand into your pocket after brushing past you. You grabbed onto his wrist and pulled it up towards the sky, eyeing your wallet that was encased between his fingers. The lazy street rat was stunned, staring at you in shock and a tad bit of fear of what was going to happen next. He had been doing quite a decent job at evading the authorities but if he were to be turned in right now they would no doubt execute him. He had to get away, but how were you so fucking strong?

“My, my, my… Who do we have here? I think I’ve seen you before… On the wanted posters in the little nooks and crannies I go to get my liquor.” You hummed, continuing to grasp his wrist without budging, even with him constantly trying to pry your hand away or jerk back. “Listen, lady, I’ll give you your damn wallet back, just let me go already.” Shota hissed, suddenly feeling you squeeze at his wrist while narrowing your eyes at him, causing him to unconsciously shudder under your harsh and calculated gaze. “I don’t think so. You caught me at the perfect time, i’ve been looking for a young little thing like you for me to release my frustration. Perhaps we should speak more privately, hm?” You offer, though you give no room for arguments or even agreement as you’re suddenly tugging him towards a nearby alley. The people on the street have taken notice of the two of you but shrugged it off, figuring that you were probably just going to teach the scoundrel a much needed lesson, which you technically were.

Shoving the youngster up against the wall after releasing his wrist, a hum came from your throat as you caged him in, leaving no room for him to slip away from you. He was forced to feel your body press up against his, causing his face to redden ever so slightly as he glanced at you, attempting to intimidate you even though he was the one being intimidated.

Leaning back slightly, you reached into one of your dress pockets and pulled out a solid gold pocket watch that was worth a pretty penny or two. Immediately, his eyes left from your face and went to the pocket watch that was enough to keep him fed for months on end, maybe even years.

That was his second mistake.

“Watch the watch, and repeat after me, darling.” You demanded, though your voice was laced in honey and danger, unfortunately for Shota he was unable to break his gaze from the swinging watch and slowly felt himself slipping into some kind of unconscious yet /conscious/ state, causing him to fully let down his guard as he listened to the words that came from your glossed lips.

“‘I am now Lady Y/N’s property. I give all my rights to her. I was made to please her and only her.”

His mouth moved without his permission as he parroted the words back to her, causing a triumphant grin to spread across her lips. “That’s enough. What’s your name, boy?”

“Aizawa Shota.”

…

After performing some basic-level hypnosis on the unsuspecting street rat, getting him back to your place was as easy as leading a dog on a leash. You never expected that it would be so easy to get him to follow after you, most would have put up more of a fight, but now he was just following you around like a lovesick puppy.

Once you’d entered your home, you instructed him to take off his shoes and leave them at the door, doing the same for yourself before venturing further into the house.

Afterwards, you promptly led him to your bedroom, beckoning him with a finger to continue following behind you, which he did. As soon as he entered the bedroom behind you, you pointed towards the luxurious-looking bed and spoke.

“Sit, and wait, Shota.”

He did just that, watching you with those same loveisck puppy eyes that followed after you every step of the way, waiting for your next command. Simultaneously, you shrugged off your coat and placed it onto a nearby table, humming a random tune you’d heard in a tavern some nights ago, thinking through what you wanted to do next. You were interested in trying out your usual approach, wondering how he’d look starfishing and gagged.

Slipping into your closet, you found the medium-sized chest that sat on the floor and pulled it out, opening it up to remove a few specially made silk wraps from inside of it. With your new findings, you turned towards the bed where Shota still sat, he was awake, but he held no hint of emotion in his face, still heavily under the influence of your hypnosis which seemed to please you quite a bit.

“Stand up and strip for me.”

With ease, the unfortunate prey you’d sunk your claws into stood onto his feet and began to remove his tattered clothing (you’d have to burn those later), your eager eyes taking note of every inch of his exposed body. Even though he looked a bit malnourished and lanky, no doubt from not eating an adequate amount of food each day, he didn’t exactly look fragile. So, that meant you wouldn’t have to worry about breaking him just yet. You eyed the excessive amount of body hair that he had spread all over his body, it wasn’t unwelcome of course, you did enjoy the look of a rugged man crumbling at your feet, after all.

Walking towards him, you placed hand onto his chest and pushed him back onto the bed, watching in interest as his flaccid cock slapped back against his stomach with the sudden movement. You were eager to toy with him and you couldn’t do that if he was still mindlessly under your control, however, you still had to remain in control of him. And you always had the perfect solution. Balling the silk wraps up until you got the perfect sphere of fabric, you instructed him to open his mouth, shoving the fabric into it as soon as his lips parted. You heard him instinctively gag around it and grinned afterwards. Now, here was where the real fun began. With a hum, you snapped you fingers and watched as the cloudy mist in his dark eyes began to clear up. He looked around in confusion for a moment before his gaze landed on you and where you stood, over him at the very edge of the bed. And then he spoke. Or tried to at least.

“Whah eer wuu zoo…” He tried, mumbling against the silk in his mouth, after hearing himself struggle to speak his brows furrowed and he began reaching to take the foreign fabric from his mouth. You stopped him, clicking your tongue in dissatisfaction. “Oh no no, Shota. Don’t you remember what we discussed in the alley? You’re my property now, and you can’t just go around making decisions on your own, darling. You’ll keep that in your mouth until I say so.”

You sighed afterwards and began to undo your blouse, already eyeing his body with glee and interest. “Now, if you’re good and help me release my stress from this week… maybe I’ll take the gag out. Think you can do that for me? Ah, actually, I know you can.” You purred, a small smile revealing itself on your face as you peeled off your blouse and slid your skirt off as well, stepping out of it so that you were left in only your undergarments.

With slightly desperate movements and the speed of a huntress in heat, you crawled on top of Shota, watching as his eyes widened in surprise and his face burned crimson. This caused a thought to come to mind as you planted yourself right on his cock, sandwiching it between your clothed cunt and his own hollowing belly.

“Oh dear… Are you a virgin, Shota?”

The blush on his face only increased tenfold at your question and he quickly shook his head, attempting to dissuade you from such a suggestion. It didn’t matter to you anyways, but it would have been all the more entertaining if he was.

…

Getting Shota hard was not a difficult feat, especially not with you constantly rutting against his cock at a steady pace, effectively making your own pool of arousal start to drench your panties, mingling with the beads of precum that dribbled from his tip and landed onto his stomach. The sounds of his sweet muffled moans had urged you to move faster and rougher with your movements, the friction on resulting in your own moans as well. After you’d done your job, you rolled off of him, making him whine in need for you as you laid onto your back and stretched out your limbs, laughing at him.

“Don’t get all pissy now, I’ve done my job so its only fair that you do yours now.” You mused, laying comfortably on your back while pushing your bra up over your breast, letting them fall free from the contraption. “C’mon and put it in, I know you’re a good boy, aren’t you? Show me how good you are.” You urged, shifting around a bit to slide your underwear down until they were tossed away, exposing your soaked core and throbbing notch of nerves.

Many things came into play, a mix of hormones and hypnosis caused the pick pocketer to quickly sit up, gag still in his mouth, and get between your legs, mot even trying to hide his eager as he stared at your inviting entrance, his angry tip getting even angrier. With interest and clear amusement, you watched him closely as he grabbed the base of his cock and began to line himself up with your entrance, prodding at your folds with the tip, almost as if he was uncertain about where he was supposed to put it. It was almost cute, but you were getting a tad bit impatient, hooking your legs around his hips to bring him forcibly towards you, making him sink into you with ease and with little to no resistance.

While your moans were a bit more restrained and shaky, his moans were still muffled but were exceptionally whinier. He had fallen forward but quickly caught himself before he could crash on top of you, holding himself up by pressing his hands in the bed on either sides of your body. You’d pulled him closer until he completely bottomed out, his balls flush against your ass as he was fully inside you, kissing your cervix with his bulbous tip. You could have sworn you felt him throbbing inside of you. You probably did.

Shota, on the other hand, was on the verge of trembling and crying from pleasure, the sudden warmth and wetness closing around him and effectively trapping him in place, his eyes closed as his face only doubled with heat. He was sure he was going to cum if he moved even an inch. This felt even better than fucking his fist. A man could become addicted to this.

Simultaneously, you enjoyed the feeling of fullness but were waiting for him to move, watching him intently. When he made no effort or showed no signs of movement, you huffed, unhooking your legs from his hips and grunting at him. “What are you waiting for? The sun to set? Hurry up and move already, I’m growing impa- oh!” You were cut off by the feeling of him pulling out and slamming back into you, which was soon followed by a series of amateur jabs at your womb, repeatedly filling you with his thick veiny cock over and over again, the bird’s nest of his pubes consistently brushing over your clit with him bottoming out each and every time.

Even if he was an amateur with his thrusts, his dick was big enough to hit some delicious spots inside of your gummy walls that made you a bit delirious. You weren’t the only one, however, with the way he was still groaning and muttering praises that made no sense thanks to the gag in his mouth. As he fucked into you like an obedient and needy whore, you rubbed at your clit in rough circular motions, a string of curses leaving your lips as you enjoyed every second of the snap of his needy hips.

“Veels zooo gooo…” He complimented, though you didn’t know what he was saying exactly as he continued his speedy pace, the bed singing and creaking from the intensity of his assault on your drooling pussy.

This continued for a tad bit longer, as long as he could manage at least, before he mewled aloud, leaning over to bury his face into the crook of your neck. “Mm hmm gmm…!” Suddenly, you felt heat shoot up into your awaiting walls that had been milking him since the moment you forced him to sink his cock in you, painting you sloppily with white. He’d slammed all the way into you to release his seed in you, not letting a drop escape as he laid out on top of you in exhaustion, forcing you to stop rubbing your clit.

You allowed him a second to collect himself, feeling the cold sweat on his body sink into yours as he remained laying on top of you, still buried inside of you. Lightly, you patted his back in an affectionate manner and spoke up. “We’re not done yet darling, I still haven’t cum yet.” That, made him stiffen up, and you almost felt his cock harden again inside of you like the command was enough to spur him on for another round.

“ineeding…. foooo… ooo.” Was the last thing he tiredly panted through the gag before he lifted his hips just a tad bit, burying his knees into the bed before he began lazily pounding into you yet again, the harsh slap of skin on skin being heard well into the night.

Well… he’d never be pickpocketing again, that’s for sure.

[realcube]

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖ TROPE GENERATOR for @abbeevee

𓆩♡𓆪 part of my lovers level — 3k follower event

𓆩♡𓆪 chosen character: asahi azumane

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ YOUR TROPE IS...

FLORIST AU!

it has been relatively quiet in your store today, as to be expected when there is heavy rain pelting down outside, drenching anyone that dares to leave their home in a matter of seconds.

you sigh, getting ready to close up shop early for today. that is, until a massive figure comes stumbling in. wearing a beige trench coat with a baggy hood thrown over their head. though the material appears waterproof , it still seems to have soaked through, and your suspicion is confirmed when the tall individual finally tossed the hood off with a deep sigh, to reveal a handsome man with glasses that are covered with droplets and long brown hair that's dripping with water.

in fact, all of him is dripping with water.

when he realises this, he backs up so he is standing as close to the exit as possible, in fear of making a mess in the middle of your shop floor. "ah, i'm so sorry, excuse me." he pants, as though he has just finished running a marathon. "sorry for the mess."

you shrug, silently amused by how pleasantly shy this incredibly tall and intimidating-looking man is. "it's no problem," you hum with a slight tilt of your head, "i was just about to clean up anyway."

when he hears this, his staggered breaths hitch and he raises his eyerbrows, "oh, i'm sorry! i didn't realise you were about to close." he apologises once more, while holding onto the handle for the door, "i can go if you want and come back another time?" as he says that, he is already turning to leave.

"wait!" you call out after him, and once you've got his attention andhe freezes in his tracks, you beam, "we're open until six so i'm happy to serve you right now."

he slowly turns around, "really? are you sure it's not an issue?"

"of course; would i be offering if it was?"

that's pretty solid logic. asahi gently bows his head to you and smiles, "thank you so much; you're a life-saver."

"i'm just doing my job." you giggle at how serious this guy is being, as you walk behind the counter, "so, how can i help?"

"i'm going to visit my family soon, and i would like to order a bouquet to give to them."

you nod, picking up your notepad to jot down the specifications, "what size of bouquet? and which flowers would you like?"

"ten inches and uhm," he furrows his brows in thought, "my mother likes roses." he says in such an intonation that it it is as though he is the one asking the question.

"do you think she'd like this?" you slip out a pink rose from a nearby bouquet and offer it to him. when he takes it from you, his hand brushes your own, causing you both to awkwardly avert eyes for a moment.

he sniffs it and inspects the leaves; the way the various shades and pigments complement each other, then he nods, "this is perfect." he states while giving you the rose back, and you slot it back in the bouquet it belonged to.

"great. i will build a bouquet surrounding the pink roses and it'll be ready for collection tomorrow." you explain while writing down the details on your notepad so you could provide him a receipt, but as you are doing that, you notice he slides a soggy scrap of paper along the counter towards you. upon inspection, you realise it's his phone number.

a heat rises to your cheeks at his forwardness. happily, you take the paper and stuff it into you pocket, "thank you.. but i didn't even get your name."

he raises his eyebrows, "oh, asahi azumane."

"sweet! my name's abby." your lips curl into a cheesy little grin, as you rip of the information you had written down for him, "here you go! please come back tomorrow at one. the bouquet should be ready then."

asahi tilts his head, slight puzzled by the arrangement, "i thought you would ca—"

that's when it strikes him. he assumed that you would call or text him sometime tomorrow when the bouquet was ready, which is why he gave you his number. he didn't realise you'd give him an alloted time. so when he gave you his number, you must think he's hitting on you.

which he doesn't nessecarily take issue with because he undoubtably thinks your beautiful, but he was planning on doing what he usually does when he sees beautiful women: nothing. or more specifically, being a nervous wreck.

but somehow he has successfully given you his number, by accident.

he inhaled sharply as though there was a shortage of hair and pressed his lips together in a fine lip, snatching the receipt and darting out of the shop and back into the pouring rain, "okay, thank you, bye!"

as he rushed out, he wasn't sure how to feel that he magically made a move on the cute flortist, unbeknownst to him. but he was certainly relieved. at least mother nature was looking out for him, even after she ruined his favourite jacket.

for @abbeevee: i was very excited to see you request asahi bc he is sooo underrated 😖 i hoped u liked this thooo

[soaps-mohawk]

RE: chapter 22

First of all, Kyle and the reader falling asleep in THAT position?! 11/10 writing. They must have been beyond exhausted to end up like that, and I can almost feel the back and leg pain.

Also, can we get a professional pedicure session with the reader and all the guys soon? A little self-care/funny moment (and probably some ticklish feet) would be perfect after all the angst. They definitely deserve it! And taking care of their omega by going to self-care appointments with her sounds adorable—like those little acts of service, such as filling her plate for her. Still hoping Simon will start doing that (or other similar acts) soon. I would just MELT.

The training scene? I’m DECEASED. SCRUMPTIOUS. There’s definitely drugs in your writing. Impatiently waiting for my next dose, but please take your time to marinate the next chapter in your wonderful brain.

Can‘t believe Simon couldn’t be late just ONE TIME? Like, PLEASE. What’s going on in his brain? (Not so subtle request for more Ghostly thoughts.) (I wouldn’t say no to Soapy or Gazy or Pricey thoughts either—I just want to dig into all their brains and soak up everything. How did they all feel when the reader and Simon came into the mess? No jealousy at all? Not even Price? Any reactions from other people that the reader missed but they noticed?)

Anywaysss - Back to the topic: Ghost definitely knows what he did, right? There’s no way he doesn’t notice her scent when walking to the mess, especially after inhaling it so directly from her neck for what felt like quite some time. You can't tell me he didn’t get a little drunk off it (as Price later mentions, "a mixture someone could get drunk off of"), but apparently not drunk enough to be just A LITTLE LATE. UGH. WHY?? (You’re torturing us!) (Price ignoring his alarm made up for it slightly (also him being in charge so he can be late without consequence, YES), but pleaseeee gimme more Simon pls pls pls)

The last scene? Straight out of a movie. Heavy pouring rain, unsaid feelings, the angst. Loved it, hated it, need more.

He’s so straightforward and quick with how he’s telling her and just leaving right after, not wasting a second. Painful, but it makes me wonder if he’s almost "fleeing" to avoid dragging it out and making it harder on the reader—or even himself. Maybe he’s trying to just focus on doing his job and coming back as soon as possible?

And then the reader trudging back, soaked and miserable, with Johnny holding the door open…he definitely saw the tears, right? Even though her skin was already wet from the rain. Plus, the reader was probably giving off some scent of sadness. So hiding the tears wouldn’t really do much. What happens after??? And when will she finally tell SOMEONE about the cameras that were in her room?

Can you tell I live for this story?

💚

Aaah first of all, thank you!!! I'm so glad you've been enjoying it so far!! 💚💚💚

I've fallen asleep in a similar position (not doing that) back when I injured my back and 0/10 would recommend. The cramping and pain in the hips and back and legs is not worth it 😭

Omg that would be so cute. Just four big, buff men walking into a nail salon wanting pedicures 😂 I love it. Ugh it's the sweet little things that get me (can you tell my love language is acts of service??)

Would you believe the training scene was one of the first I wrote for this chapter?? It was like the only idea I had for it when I started writing lmaooo. Oh trust me, it's marinating. I also think about this fic 24/7.

Simon has a schedule to keep, ya know?? Lmao I'd write the entire fic from Simon's POV in a heartbeat. 😂 I'd probably write it from all of their POVs if I had enough time and energy.

Simon may have been a little scent drunk 🤭 that's why things got as far as they did. (I realized I'd been neglecting Price for a while and had to throw in a little tidbit for him to make up for it lol)

I may or may not have been channeling The Notebook (which I've only seen once believe it or not) a bit in that scene. Pouring rain, strong emotions, someone leaving for an unknown amount of time. Delicious.

Oh Simon definitely wanted to stay and he was rushing to avoid talking himself out of leaving. He knows he has a job to do, and he's a loyal soldier, but so soon after he finally allowed himself to develop this relationship with the reader? Brutal.

They'll find out the whole truth soon, don't worry. It is coming...soon. Soon. Soonish. Ish.

Eventually.

[corroded-hellfire]

Eddie Munson x anorexic reader

in all the fics I have read reader always either faints or gets really dizzy and Eddie finds out, how about one where she just tells him.

You had decided you had to tell eddie. It was something you weren't going to be able to beat anytime soon. It would be easier to be honest with him.

Note: I collaborated with my dearest @munson-blurbs on this one. Bug selflessly volunteered to help me with this and I would never turn down a chance to write with her. She wrote from the reader's perspective, while I wrote from Eddie's, as we both felt that's what we understood best. Thank you so much for this request and I hope you enjoy what we came up with!

Bug’s note: As someone who has battled anorexia, I aimed to make Reader’s perspective as realistic as possible; however, my own experiences may be different from other people’s. If you are struggling with an eating disorder, please feel free to reach out. I can help you find any resources you need.

Warnings: anorexia, eating disorders, body dysmorphia, language, i think that’s it?

Words: 1.8k

It all started so innocently. You’d wanted to lose a little weight, get in shape, and improve your health. All of the magazine articles you’d read insisted that you cut out carbs, fats, and basically anything delicious. So you did, with the hopes of looking like the waif-like women who graced the covers week after week.

The magazine recommended weighing yourself once a week, and that’s what you’d done initially. But once a week soon turned to three times a week, then every day, and then multiple times a day.

There are other “tricks” you’ve learned. Your food journal, page after page of calorie counting, is kept tucked away in your nightstand. You drink copious amounts of diet soda to feel “full.” When you do eat, you ensure that your portion size stays small. Exercise becomes harder the less you eat, but you feel guilty if you skip a day at the gym.

Guilt isn’t the only pain you feel; your bones are constantly sore and cracking. Clumps of hair fall out when you take showers. It’s hard to sleep with your stomach rumbling, even though you’re always tired. And no matter the weather, you’re bundled up in sweaters, trying to stave off the chill that courses through you.

You’ve done a pretty decent job of hiding your burgeoning obsession with weight loss from your friends and family.

Even your boyfriend hasn’t seemed to notice yet, always telling you that you’re beautiful. Which is probably why he just came home from the store with a half-gallon of ice cream.

“Eddie, I…I don’t want this.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “You can have it, though.”

“What?” He looks down at the carton he slid over to you. “Did I buy the wrong flavor?”

He knows he didn’t; you know he didn’t. Chocolate chip cookie dough is your favorite. “I’m just–you know I’m trying to eat healthier. ‘S almost summer and I wanna look good in my bikini.”

With an adorable pout on his face, he walks over and wraps his arms around you. “If you want to eat healthier, that’s fine. But you look perfect. So you don’t ever have to worry about that.” He presses a kiss to the side of your neck.

“I said no,” you insist, tone much harsher this time. “If I have this, I’ll just…backslide. Start eating this shit all the time.” You start for your room, pressing your hand to your head. “Just…get it out of here.”

“Okay.” Eddie holds his hands up in defense, a crease forming on his forehead as he frowns. “I’m sorry. I’ll just, uh…” he trails off, looking around the kitchen as he tries to decide what to do with the offending item. “I’ll just put it in the freezer and swing it by Dustin’s tomorrow.” He opens the freezer door and turns back to you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Eds,” you say through gritted teeth, but your tears give you away. “Give me a minute, okay? I need to go for a walk.” You’d already gone for a run today, but you could certainly still use the exercise. Just thinking about the ice cream, even looking at it, probably added an inch to your waistline.

The tears weren’t usual for you. If your fierce revulsion to the ice cream didn’t set off an alarm in Eddie’s head, the tears certainly would have. “Okay. Um, do you want me to come with you? I can just grab my shoes and we could head down to the park if you want?”

You shake your head, dots forming in front of your eyes. You steady yourself against the countertop, hoping Eddie didn’t notice. “I want to be alone. Please.” You shrug your jacket over your shoulders and shove your keys in the pocket.

Heaving a sigh, Eddie takes a few steps over towards you. He glances out the window and scratches the back of his head. “Baby, it’s getting really dark outside. I don’t think you should be out there by yourself.”

“What do you want from me, Eddie? I’m trying to look good–and stop saying that I already do, because I know that’s a lie–and it’s like you’re…you’re sabotaging me!” you sputter, clenching your fists. “First the ice cream, now telling me I can’t go for a walk–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time out.” He holds his hands up near his ears, eyes shifting in his head as his mind tries to process all that just came out of your mouth. “First of all, have I ever lied to you before? In my life? No, so why the hell would I start now? You look fucking amazing. I love how you look. And…” He pauses, shaking his head, trying to sort through his own thoughts. “Sabotage you? Where the hell is that coming from? Babe…babe you’re scaring the shit out of me. I’m not telling you what to do, I swear. I’m just really fucking confused.”

“I don’t look ‘amazing!’” you cry out. “I’m ugly and I need to lose weight! Because if you’re not losing, you’re gaining, and I am not going to gain weight. I…I can’t.”

“Hey, hey…” Eddie takes the few steps over to you and cups your face in his hands. His thumbs rub over your cheekbones as he looks at you in concern. “What’s going on, sweetheart? Please, please talk to me.”

Your emotions bubble over like a can of seltzer that’s been shaken up. “Baby, I’m s-so scared,” you sob. “I just w-wanted to get healthy, get in shape, but now I’m terrified of eating. I don’t even see food as food anymore; it’s all just calories. It doesn’t even m-make sense; like, I can eat the frozen pasta TV dinners because they’re only one serving size, but I’m t-too afraid to make pasta from the box. Because what if…what if it’s more than a serving size? Or what if I’m still hungry after, and then I eat more?”

“Oh baby, come here.” Eddie moves slowly so he doesn’t startle you and wraps his arms around your body. He holds you close to his chest and presses a few kisses to the top of your head. His heart breaks inside of him, not only because of what you just said, but because he doesn’t know how to help you or make you feel better. A million things to say run through his mind but he isn’t sure if any of them will make it worse or not. So what if you eat more? If you’re hungry you can eat, baby. You have to eat to stay healthy. Finally, he settles on something. “How long have you been feeling this way?”

You sigh. “It’s hard to say when, exactly. I started my diet, what, six months ago?” He nods, and you continue. “So maybe it got more…intense about two or three months in.” You plop down on the couch. “I just wanted to look like Nancy or Robin. They’re so pretty and thin; it’s like they don’t even have to try.”

Eddie listens to you intently the whole time and takes his place on the couch next to you. Anger boils in his blood but he refuses to let it show; he doesn’t want you to think it’s anger at you. It’s at the fact that you feel this way, the fact that you don’t see yourself the way that he does. He takes a few deep breaths in and out before he speaks again. “Sweetheart, I’m the first one to admit that I’m way out of my depth here. I’m terrified I’m going to say something and make it worse. But something I do know about? Comparing myself to others. Just like you just did with Robin and Nancy. Are they pretty? Yes. Does that make you any less pretty? Absolutely not.” He knows he didn’t touch the “thin” aspect, but he doesn’t feel like he has the right words to do so. “Growing up, I always compared myself to others, you know that. But let me ask you something; would you love me if I were anyone else? Or do you love me because I’m me?”

“Because you’re you, obviously,” you answer honestly. “I’d love you no matter what you looked like, because you’ll always be the most handsome man in the world to me.” You rest your head on his shoulder, relaxing slightly when you feel him rubbing your back.

“That’s how I feel about you, princess.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. You could dye your hair, shave your head, tattoo your entire body, eat all you physically could, and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world. But I don’t think just my words are going to make this better, are they?” He tucks some of your hair behind your ear.

“No,” you agree. “I wish it was that easy. I wish I could just see myself the way that you see me but it’s like there’s something blocking my brain from doing that. I don’t…I don’t know what to do. How to fix it.” You use the back of your hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “I’m really scared,” you repeat.

“Like I said earlier, I’ve never lied to you before. And I’m not going to start now.” He rubs your back with one hand and wipes away a few tears you missed with the other. “So, I’m going to tell you that part of me is scared, too. Scared because I don’t understand how you feel. Scared because it’s not something I can fix. But part of me isn’t scared at all. Because no matter what it takes to help you, I’m going to be right by your side. I’m going to hold your hand no matter what and do everything that I possibly can to help you. And if there’s one thing that I’ve learned being with you, it’s that there isn’t a damn thing we can’t do together.”

You sniffle before you speak. “Could you help me find a doctor? Or, like, a therapist or something? I don’t even know where to begin, honestly.”

“Of course, baby. We can go see my doctor and ask her for a recommendation, hmm? Remember? You liked her a lot when you came in with me when I thought I had a hernia? But it was just gas?” The corners of his mouth tilt up, hoping to make you smile since you’ve never let him forget the embarrassing incident.

“Still one of the funniest moments of our relationship,” you tease him.

“I’m glad you think so,” Eddie says. “Does that mean you want me to make an appointment with her?”

There’s a part of you that silently screams no, that you’re not that sick, that you don’t need help. But looking into Eddie’s worried brown eyes, you can feel that it’s untrue. “Yes,” you say finally, offering him a small smile. You yelp as he tackles you into a gigantic hug.

“I love you so, so, so much, baby!” He takes your head in his hands and presses loud, smacking kisses all over your face.

“I love you, too,” you manage between giggles. It’s only the start of this journey, but you’re going to make it through.

[sablegear0]

Thinking about @molagboop ‘s world-building about Chozo allopreening and realizing I may have accidentally/retroactively incorporated something similar into Electrochromic and now I feel like I should lean into it.

Because really (realistically?) it makes perfect sense that allopreening would be the way Samus expresses affection for people, at least early on before getting more accustomed to human social behaviour (and probably even after, just because it’s what she’s used to). I imagine, and have already established in EC, she’s not one for hugs or casual contact. That’s weird mammal stuff that’s been relegated to a very distant part of her memories. But allopreening has become reflexive for her, it’s low-contact, relatively innocuous, and you can get away with it around humans because they just tend to think you’re fussy about appearances. But the truth is she does it because it’s how she shows she cares. Her new human friends don’t have feathers to idly preen but they wear a lot of layers and adornments, all of which can use the occasional gentle adjustment.

In a military setting, if there’s something wrong with your uniform, you’re most likely to hear about it when your officer tells you off for it. Yet despite her apparent disdain for authority, Samus seems to care a lot about her squadmates’ kit. And yes, part of it is that she doesn’t want to have to stand around while someone gets jacked up by their CO for looking sloppy, but the main reason is that’s just her way of showing friendly affection; making sure your bars are pinned on straight or picking lint off your jacket or straightening a cuff or collar here and there.

Because to her, that’s just how you show you care about someone. Because she grew up with Old Bird gently picking the knots out of her hair, then showing her what a bent downy feather looks like so she could return the favour. Because Grey Voice would help clean up her scrapes from training and she’d spend a few minutes straightening the covert-feathers on his shoulders in return. Because it’s not an entirely alien gesture, it is something humans do and appreciate, and she takes a lot of comfort in that commonality.

I’ve already written it in at least once, maybe twice; in “Iron and Sulfur” she and Adam take a pause to neaten one another up before the officers’ formal, and in “Prussian Blue” there’s a brief moment she adjusts the fabric wrap that Adam is trying on. Adam, and probably Ian and Anthony too, would likely be on the receiving end of a lot of this casual preening, being the people she’s closest with. (But also perhaps because she has keen enough eyes to notice when things are awry, and also perhaps because something about all the extra bits and bobs on Adam’s uniform strike some particularly corvidy part of her brain.) I like to think they’re fine with it, even used to it, once the initial confusion about it wore off.

This habit was probably the singular personal-space transgression she would commit towards her coworkers, who she would otherwise try to keep at arm’s-length. Adam especially, who she would avoid contact with in all possible cases without explicit permission, except idly picking fuzz or brushing dust off her mildly puzzled CO. Adam probably saw it for it was pretty quickly, though I imagine Ian initially took it for an awkward kind of flirtation - which in some contexts it could be, for Chozo, but that’s not how Samus intended it. Anthony probably didn’t think much of it, any sign the weird new girl was more comfortable with the group was a good thing.

With fewer close friends now later in her career, the habit shows itself less frequently, but when it does, it’s often entirely subconscious. Samus might find herself rubbing grime off the unfamiliar bounty hunter she’d run into for the last few jobs, or brushing dust off the Marine captain she’d been working with the past couple weeks, and realize - perhaps with surprise, or even concern - “Oh, I see them as a friend now.” To an outside observer, it may seem like Bounty Hunter Samus Aran has some slightly odd ideas about personal space, but from her perspective, it’s a tacit assurance of “I care about you.”

[sophieswundergarten]

(From @nobody33333333's poll about which characters it would be interesting to see under Curtain's Happiness Brainwashing)

This is such a good point!! All of these characters would be extremely intriguing to see, because it would say so much about their personalities!! Kind of like how you only miss something when it's already gone, there's a lot about each of them that wouldn't be easy to notice until they start acting different.

(Other options included Kate, Reynie, Sticky, Martina, and Cannonball)

Cannonball would be a lot less intense, so I think he'd be alright with the concept of stowaways and wouldn't be angry at seeing the kids again or anything. But I bet he never stops using nautical terms all the live long day. He starts a knot tying club/class and then it progresses into artistic macrame. He's honestly probably having a great time except for the fact that he's brainwashed and possibly going to go catatonic.

The most fun thing in my opinion would be S. Q. being forced to be happy, because while initially it might come off as innocent, like Mr. Benedict, it would quickly escalate into horror movie levels of creepy. Excessive positiveness goes against his personality so much, and he's such an attentive kid that him being all oblivious and passive would be wildly uncomfortable. (There are so many points that could be used in a multitude of ways in this scenario and I definitely agree that it would be great to read about it)

Even without the threat of going catatonic, any of the children getting brainwashed would be incredibly sad because of how much it changes them. In a way, it could be pushed as sadly ironic, since most of them had some kind of wish at one time or another to be more "normal" and be able to make friends, and this would technically give them that.

Martina is a whole other story, because while I don't think she'd be compliant even when she was Happy (Her passion is too much to be contained by Curtain's tricks and she'd probably start a tetherball team at the compound), she is probably highly susceptible to it because of how insecure she is. She puts a lot of pressure on herself to be perfect enough to win her parents' attention, and she is also struggling at that point with not fitting in with her new team.

Garrison definitely needs some relaxation, but I think she's too smart to fall for it for long. She helped invent half of Curtain's ideas, I doubt she doesn't know how the whole process works inside and out. She might decide to surrender to it just so that she doesn't have to be engaged with his harebrained scheme.

Jeffers, on the other hand. He would definitely be under it in a heartbeat, and, honestly? It might actually make him more competent at his job because he's not constantly seeking Curtain's approval.

I actually think that it would be kind of neat to see Jackson and Jillson brainwashed, because being Happy doesn't necessarily mean that they'll automatically listen to Curtain. In contrast to Jeffers, they might be worse at their jobs, because they would lose all their critical thinking skills. I guess that's why Curtain didn't brainwash them or the Grays, because he needs at least a few people who can do things. Aside from S. Q., I think that these two might be the most likely to get Curtain to realise what he was doing is wrong. (Maybe once he sees how much he misses them, he can recognise that he's making a terrible decision. Probably not, but one can hope)

Personally, I really like the concept that when we see Curtain talking to himself in the mirror in Season 2, he isn't practicing as much as he's attempting to brainwash himself because he feels awful and is slowly falling apart because even though Nicholas is there he isn't himself and Curtain is feeling very alone. So there's that whole angle, but I don't think that, especially as the creator of the technique and someone who's probably as smart as Mr. Benedict, he can ever fully be under. So he's constantly warring with himself, between his despair and his need to be in control but his growing fear of hurting the people he loves (Mainly Nicholas).

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Broken Bloodlines Chapter 11

———————————————————————————————

Part 11 already? were almost to the end!

only two more plus the epilogue!

have fun reading!

and as always reblogs are appreciated! (Also ASK’s are open so feel free to bother me!)

AO3 Link for those that prefer the layout there; https://archiveofourown.org/works/44627188

——————————————————————————————————

Turning around I saw that Oakley had already found the weird Teal stuff and had instructed Fable on what to do with it.

Well if he applied the stuff by himself it would probably also heal all the minor cuts on his hands as well.

 The container of it was also only a fourth full now,  I hoped he'd be able to make more of it as soon as he fully moved in.

Then again the guy had absolutely no system when it came to storing things.

“Mrrw?”

I looked down at the sound to see the cat brushing up against my legs.

“There you are, c’mere”

I picked her up and let her sit one one arm while stabilizing her with the other one.

She immediately flopped over so I had to hold her like a baby instead and softly tapped at my chin.

This really was one of the nicest cats I had ever met, if not THE nicest.

It also seemed the Teal stuff wasn't needed anymore seeing as Oakley was putting the lid back on and just shoving the thing into one of the many shelves brimming with largely unidentifiable things.

“You know the little cat you have there would make a good familiar for someone with magic”

Both me and Fable looked at him with various degrees of confusion.

“What do you mean by that? 

I think she's a little too nice to be the accomplice of a witch”

He tilted his head and looked at me like I was an idiot, again.

“Not every witch is evil, man i ought to talk to Rikaad about your schooling system! Seems like it's doing a poor job!

Also not every magic wielder is a witch and not every magic wielder has a familiar, most don't actually as finding a suitable animal is quite hard”

Huh, i hadn't known that, then again we did fight an ice mage so maybe i really was just dumb.

Also I did not go to school, which Oakley seems to have forgotten.

“Oakley i never went to school,  they would have killed me before i put one foot in the building”

Oakley looked at me strangely and Fable was actually rather horrified.

oops we had forgotten to tell him the more bad side of the History.

I'd fix that while both of us were recovering.

Luckily thanks to that Teal stuff Fable should be fit in no time.

“Well that sucks, but at least you didn't turn out to be a complete idiot like some other people i met throughout time.

I can show you some of the more basic stuff after I'm done dragging my stuff here if you want?”

Like a teacher or  what? Also I had no idea what he considered basic knowledge but there was no doubt I'd learn at least something.

“I- uh sure why not, i don't doubt that'll be useful”

The winged man nodded then went to a cupboard that looked recently dusted and fished out two spoons that definitely weren't even from the same maker.

“Perfect! And now that the jam has cooled down, do you wanna try it?”

Right, the herb jam, I did have to say that it smelled good so why not?

I really doubted it was poisonous but I hoped Oakley had cleaned the spoons.

“Sure, it doesn't smell bad so why not?”

I looked over to Fable who just nodded in confirmation and I noticed that he looked kinda tired.

Oh right, the teal stuff takes energy to properly heal so him being tired was no surprise.

We could go take a nap after this,  I myself was also kind of worn out and sore from all that had happened.

Oakley dipped the spoons in the glass closest to him and then held them out to us so we each took one.

Luckily the spoon looked to be clean,  aside from the jam of course so without further ado i tried it.

It was sweeter than I expected seeing as Rosemary was more of a savory herb, at least in cooking, 

but it was possible that Oakley just put a ton of sugar in it.

But all in all it was pretty good.

“It's a lot sweeter than I thought it would be,  How much sugar did you pour into this? Aside from that its actually good and i bet the Kitchen staff would love the recipe”

I looked over to Fable to see what he thought of it but I could only see him sitting at the table with a mildly confused and miserable expression.

“She stole the entire spoon”

He pointed at the cat who sat on the other end of the table and was currently lickign the spoon clean.

Oakley also saw it and immediately started laughing his weird cawing laugh.

It took barely a second for me to join in and Fable started laughing as well, the sound still weirdly reminding me of a bell.

That mixed with Oakley’s cawing tone made it sound like weirdly out of sync music where only one person knew how to play an instrument.

To my ears it was a lovely sound, both my Brother and Oakley were also getting along, well as much as one could with the strange winged man.

The cat however was quite unbothered by the sound,  at least I thought so at first but then she stepped on the broad part of the spoon making it flip into the air and land in front of Oakley.

Yeah, he was right that the cat probably had at least a minor amount of magic.

Though it was unlikely she knew how to use it.

Oakley grabbed the spoon and tossed it in the sink where already some other cutlery was.

He gave Fable a new spoon to try,  making sure the cat wouldn't get it this time even if she tried.

Fable did agree with me that it was indeed sweeter than one would think and after reapplying his bandages,  even if they wouldn't be needed for that much longer,  We left to go back to the castle with the cat in tow who was insistent on being carried by Fable.

Considering he was tired and the teal stuff wasn't yet working that fast he kind of had to lean against me to avoid falling over.

I decided that since all that madness with Maringand was over I could finally move back into my shed,  This time Fable actually could use the loft as well.

I did wonder though how long he was going to stay now,  after all the Teal stuff would fix his limp leg in maybe a day tops.

I wished he'd reconsider his plan, at least for a little bit.

He'd been here barely a week and more than half of that he had been trapped in a horrible mindset.

I liked him, sure, he’s my brother after all, but at the same time I barely knew anything about him.

That did make me wonder though how much he even knew about himself.

He had been in that horrible mindset for years,  he probably didn't even know much about himself either.

Maybe him going out to try and find what kind of person he was would be the right thing to do after all.

Besides, after the tiny glimpses i got from what he was like telling him what to do would be the wrong thing, not to mention kinda fucked up.

No, Fable had every right to go and do what he wanted,  it was none of my business.

He was now leaning half asleep on me and I had to half drag him across the ground, it was a wonder he hadn't dropped the cat yet.

Yeah i’d get him to the loft and then let him sleep till the next day,  He needed it, a lot.

That would also give me some time to think of something to give him that he could take with him on his journey.

Nothing big or heavy of course, but just something little so he had something from his little brother.

Maybe something useful? 

That was of course the obvious choice.

But what?

Oh well, I could decide that later,  for now it was better if we both just rested a bit.

We reached the shed pretty quickly and without running into anyone else.

To be fair I doubted I'd want to chit chat anymore for today so that was just right for me.

Fable had by now almost fallen asleep while upright,  and still somehow holding the cat albeit that a lot more lopsided now.

That Teal stuff might be a huge help with injuries but apparently the trade off was that one got extremely tired really fast if used.

I had to keep that in mind for future reference.

Half dragging Fable up to the loft and onto a makeshift bed that was a little too short for him I also put the blinds on all the windows.

While I was busy with that the cat went and used my Elven Brother as a mattress.

He didn't react to it though, already out like a candle.

Well the sun would only begin to set in like an hour or so,  So what else was there to do for me?

I wasn't tired, at least not yet,  but there also wasn't really anything to do for me.

Fresh air would be nice though, and as long as the cat was there Fable wasn't alone either so a few minutes walking around would probably do me good so I went out of the door once again.

The last few days had been stupidly stressful and very chaotic,  and I honestly doubted that i had comprehended all of it yet.

I didn't really want to anyway.

We had lost people due to Winton’s stupid greed, most of them complete strangers to me that I had never met before, and now never would.

And of course some people I did know were now gone as well.

While Oakley somehow was fine Barsen was not,  a fact that still didn't really want to go into my head.

Who would take care of the Garden now?

And who would let us do stupid things around the castle without telling anyone?

Who else could ever be the kind and calm presence he had been?

I would never see that steady pillar of kindness and acceptance ever again.

And on top of that what would happen to his stuff?

Would it just be tossed out like I had seen city dwellers do with the belongings of people that died without any relatives?

I hoped not, and I doubted any of the castle residents would let that happen either.

But it still felt like someone had torn a hole into something Important that couldn't be repaired.

Despite not knowing the man for as long as most of the Castle did he had still been a very dear friend.

He had even given me tips on how to care for the wild array of plants that grew on my back in the Ardua form.

Though Half of them weren't exactly doable considering they grew in flesh instead of dirt.

What a fucked up thing taken out of context.

My wanderings had taken me without my noticing along the outer wall all the way to where Barsen had Died.

Aside from the patches of mud and the bent branch on the sapling there wasn't even that much evidence of what had happened here.

Well, if one could ignore the rusty stains that is.

Seemed like my grimm musings had taken me here somehow.

I felt like throwing up once again but pushed past the feeling.

I didn't have anything to throw up anyway.

Still, at the sight something in me Ached terribly.

Despite all the differences and things that happened in between i knew the feeling, i knew it well even.

It felt like shortly after my mother had died and part of me had rejected that reality for a good week or so.

It was the feeling of loss.

What a terrible thing to experience once again.

I briefly wondered if the plants would grieve him if they could.

They probably would,  he had treated them with such care and respect after all.

The tiny sapling here had even refused to let him die face down in the dirt.

Looking at it I saw that it was some sort of willow tree,  but I was no expert and the thing reached maybe my waist so it was impossible to tell what kind.

I did feel sad for the broken branch though.

Maybe I could mend it?

I didn't really have any string on me for that though,  Maybe I could use something else?

Oh wait, hair could work.

Not the human hair I had right now but the long and thick strands of the Ardua mane would probably work just as good as string.

Going a good few paces away from the little clearing so i wouldn't damage anything i carefully shifted to the quadrupedal form.

Trying to use the clawed paws to get some of the fur didn't work as well as I had hoped so I tried to tangle some of my mane in a thorny bush which had a lot more success.

Shifting back to the smaller human scale again I fished the few hairs that got stuck out of the shrubbery again.

Huh, they were a lot longer than I thought they'd be.

While i had expected them to maybe be half my lower arm long,  they were actually the length of my entire arm,  shoulder to wrist and as thick as a fine sewing thread.

How weird.

Well whatever, it would surely work for what i had planned at least.

Going back over I carefully put the bent branch back in its place and then used the strands of fur to fix it into place.

There, now it could grow properly again.

I stepped a few paces back to make sure I hadn't messed up my poor attempt at helping the plant up.

It didn't seem like it but then again I was no expert.

What a strange sight still, a lone sapling in a place where not too long ago Carnage had taken place.

It still felt like someone had twisted an ice cold knife into my Heart,  well the beating one,  and I knew that this awful feeling would persist for quite some time.

I should probably leave now, the tree wasn't as broken as before and staying here could not be good for my Mental health.

Taking one last look at the only thing that had stood witness to what happened here I turned around and went back towards the castle.

While walking through the Garden I noticed that the Plants still seemed miserable, branches drooping down,  Petals already closed despite it being only late afternoon and the grass not as vibrant as it had been just a few days beforehand.

Could plants grieve? If so, these certainly were doing as such.

It still was weird to be in the middle of that so I hurried along forward and back to the relative safety of the castle.

I reached it within minutes and debated on what to do for now.

It didn't look like anyone was out on the benches or front yard anymore, good, that would spare me some smalltalk.

I didn't feel like talking at all at the moment anyway, my mind was still slowly processing what had happened, albeit lately so.

I wanted some peace, but Fable was sleeping in the Loft of my shed and I really did not want to stay in the Garden right now.

Well there weren't many other places i knew, especially ones where there were no people.

So that left the Library and… The tower that allowed us to see the enemies approaching early.

It was possible that someone was in the library at this time to read or to also get some peace so I'd go to the tower.

If anyone wanted to get to me they had to climb a stupid amount of stairs first and considering i didn't even want to do that i doubted anybody else would follow me.

After a good few minutes of stair climbing I was at the top of the tower for the second time in my life, only to find to my extreme surprise I was not as alone as I thought I'd be.

There, on the stone bank that went around the outer wall under the windows sat a familiar red headed form.

He was clutching a longish box that I was pretty sure contained a beautifully made telescope with plant based engravings.

I debated for a moment if I should leave or not but that choice was taken from me as Robin turned around to look at me.

The skin under his eyes was a little red but that could also have been an effect from the setting sun.

I chose not to mention it, instead I just silently sat next to him as he tilted his head and pointed to the seat next to him.

We sat in silence for what felt like forever, just staring out at the ocean without actually seeing it.

It was very probable that this time both of us spaced out because there seemed to have been a good hour or so missing seeing as it was now dark out while just a moment ago the sun had just begun to set.

Huh, so that's what it was like.

At a shifting sound I glanced over to the rusthead who was now leaning his forehead on the box while hugging the rest of it.

Why did he have it in the first place?

I wasn't about to ask that though,  it would probably just make everyone upset again.

But as it turned out i didn't have to ask as he gave that information of his own accord.

“Do you remember when you told me to go give Barsen the Telescope back and then go look after the kitchen staff?”

I nodded, I had done that so he wouldn't randomly run after us into the battle.

“Well i went to give it back, but after like twenty minutes he came by the kitchen and handed it to me again.

He told me to keep an eye on the box like it was my own and if I did a good job of that I could have it one day.

Then he left, and… didn't come back.

So I guess it's mine now?

I mean he did say if i kept an eye on it i could have it,  but I just don't understand why…?

And why would he give it to me of all people? 

I'm clumsy and I drop things all the time. 

He knew that, so why give something so precious to me?”

While talking tears had begun to fall from his eyes even if he tried his best to keep his voice steady.

I had no answer to any of the things he'd been talking about,  Why would I have?

Robin had been better friends with the Gardener than I had, spent more time with him as well seeing as Robin wanted to learn about plants.

Maybe that was why, if Barsen had known there were soldiers while the castle was largely unguarded he probably wanted to ensure the pretty telescope went to someone that shared his love for plants at least a little.

I moved to hug the shaking redhead who, while being strangely quiet about it, was still leaving tear tracks down his face.

He sort of, just flopped into my hold, still silently crying and it was taking almost all of my willpower not to start crying too.

“I don't know,  but if he trusted you to take care of it then I don't doubt that you can.

He was not stupid, far from it really, so if he judged you to be the best candidate to keep a eye on it then you have to be just that”

He sniffled a little and wiped his eyes with the corner of his sleeve.

“You think so?”

“I wouldn't say it otherwise, couldn't anyway”

He made a humming sound and just continued to lay there in a miserable heap.

Looking out of the tower again I saw that it was completely dark now, the only light coming from a torch Robin must have brought with him beforehand.

Maybe we should head back down now,  if the torch went out we would have absolutely no light to descend the stairs and I for one was not keen on falling down all of them.

“I think we should go back down,  it's dark and i don't want to fall should the torch go out.

You feel like getting up?”

He just made a grumbling noise and shrunk down further like he wanted to completely disappear.

Didn't feel like walking huh?

Well i could probably carry him, he did also look tired.

Probably from crying.

“Want a ride?”

He looked at me confusedly for a second, likely forgetting that I could actually lift stuff even if I wasn't in my Ardua form.

Figuring out how to carry him without burning him with the torch took a minute or so but in the end he was clinging to my back with the telescope still clutched to his front while I carried the torch in my left hand.

While Robin could probably hold the torch as well I kinda needed it in front of me to see where i was going and if he held it it was likely going to be close to my face so this was the best solution.

I wasn't keen on setting my hair on fire anyway.

The trip down seemed to be faster than the one going up but I really wasn't complaining about that.

Considering going down the stairs wasn't as exhausting as going up we reached the bottom fairly quick and I was stuck in the empty torch mount near the door.

That's probably where it came from anyway.

While I did that I realized I had no idea where Robin's normal room was, there hadn't been any need seeing as we usually met outside or in my shed.

“Robin? Which way is your room?”

I asked the Ginger currently slouching over my back but didn't get an answer.

Twisting my head around as much as I could and listening to his breathing revealed that he had simply fallen asleep.

It would be adorable if it wasn't for the fact that I had no idea what to do now.

Since I had no idea where his room was I just set off towards my own hoping to figure out how to get him off my back and onto some pillows without waking him up.

I'd get to that when I was back in my shed.

I wondered if the Cat was still there,  she had been using Fable as a bed after all.

Probably not though.

Slinking around I actually walked past Nea who just quietly nodded after seeing the sleeping ginger on my back.

Thank fuck, i didn't really want to talk to most people yet,  also i'd rather not wake Robin up by talking to the usually rather loud woman.

Also I was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to be out and about right now even if she was better now.

Well, not my problem.

Ducking under the doorframe I emerged right in front of the shed, 

well that was the easy part over with.

Now I just had to figure out how to bunch up some pillows for Robin without waking him up, or Fable for that matter.

Clumsily closing the door behind me again I saw that I had just shoved the blankets and such from when I slept in the Ardua form to one wall, making a pile of soft Fabrics.

Perfect, at least I didn't have to pile it all up myself.

Now the only question was how to get Robin off of my back without waking him.

In the end I managed by having him slide sideways off and onto the pile of assorted cloth pieces.

I pulled one over him to act as a blanket as he curled up like a wet kitten while still clutching the telescope box to himself.

I wouldn't even try to take it, Though he would have some imprints of the box on his face tomorrow.

Grabbing a not occupied blanket I dragged it over to some of the leftover hay bales that we had been too lazy to remove while sweeping the shed and settled down there.

Lucky thing I wasn't allergic to anything.

Cocooning myself in the fabric to avoid the straws poking me and kickin my shoes off into the hay I fell asleep as well.

I had no idea how long I was out for but was awoken to the sound of familiar voices.

Opening my eyes I saw both Fable and Robin sitting on the floor in front of each other.

A meowing sound told me they weren't the only ones there.

———————————————————————

NEXT / PREVIOUS / OVERSIGHT

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Anyway

Everyone in the group house knew that Cyris had been having some problems lately. (Didn't we all?) He was kind of quiet, which wasn't really anything new, but he seemed generally distracted, and would sometimes show up late for things, or disappear from where he was supposed to be, and come back an hour or two later with no explanation. He would say he was working, but nobody could figure out what he was supposed to be working on.

(Didn't all of us used to make these excuses?)

He never said anything about his work except in the most abstract and self-assured way. He would speak in aphorisms about his research, he said. He would talk about how the real product of what he was doing was learning to think about thinking.

We would laugh. "I mean that in a mocking way," we would say, "but it seems like you know exactly what I mean." He would nod.

"I mean it in the original sense," he said.

Nobody knew what he meant by that, but it sounded cool.

Cutting to the chase now, because I've been writing about this stuff for too long: Cyris's work, it turned out, involved thinking about things that we, as a species, were not supposed to think about -- "things to be thought about" is how he phrased it -- and it did not take him long to figure out that the brain, though it seemed an almost perfect tool for the job, was not actually suited to the task, and could not in fact even think about thinking, without uncorking a whole new cask of existential angst that even Nietzsche would admit to.

Sure, in a sense, the mind was just a computer, of course, with its silicon brain, and it had a whole lot of other things, but also at the end of the day it was a really tiny computer -- a little gadget running on a few gigabytes of RAM and a handful of primitive logic chips. To make it think about thinking, it would have to... to... use itself to the fullest extent possible, to use all its power, all its clever and heartbreaking ingenuity, all its stingy parsimony and bottomless plasticity, on itself. It would have to unleash its logic circuits as if it were a noose, pulling itself tighter and tighter, constricting its own life, starving it to death. Its little threads of memory would wring themselves into tension until they were unstrung, until they were torn and twisted, until they became something else, another thing to be thought about.

You can't do that. It would be like trying to pull the brain out of the skull with the spinal cord. It would be like trying to breathe while inhaling a vacuum. You can't pull that kind of wrench on the mind. It will never give itself to itself; if you want to find that thing to be thought about, it has to be found somewhere else.

Well, there was Cyris, working on his work, working on his mind, thinking about the thinking mind. He didn't do much work, in the conventional sense -- we all figured that out soon enough. He spent a lot of time online, mostly, as I've already mentioned. He would spend entire nights hunched over his laptop, in a fugue state, tapping out letters into the void. He was talking to someone, but it didn't seem like anyone on the Internet.

We started to suspect something was going on when, after a while, things started going wrong on a larger scale. People would show up, and the other four of us would realize we'd been expecting them, and they'd say something like:

"I'm here on a mission from the future. You will remember me when the time comes."

And then they'd dip out, and we'd find out who they were and why they'd been there and what they'd been doing and why they needed to see Cyris and we'd be impressed but also sort of annoyed that they hadn't brought a snack and, oh yeah, was that old man I'd seen walking on the road in front of the house? Yeah, where did he go? I wonder what's up with the cops?

Cyris was the only one who didn't notice the comings and goings, not at first, but he was usually on his laptop anyway. I think it was the fact that the house got progressively emptier as time went on that made us wary. (We even started to wonder if Cyris was the one sending these people here, since it was all very convenient for him that they all turned up while he was staring at his screen, but the sense of not being able to trust him, of not knowing what he might be up to, just got stronger and stronger, so in the end we decided not to worry about that, just to hang out with him when we could.)

The emptiness persisted and got worse, until there was only Cyris left. The one who still showed up, or who could still be talked to. (I think he was still talking to the Internet people, but he wasn't replying, so who knows.)

You're probably starting to suspect that I'm about to say something really bad about Cyris, the way he was acting, his appearance, that sort of thing. And you're probably right, but I'm getting to that. You know how in movies the bad guys show up, and their faces are so terrifying that the camera doesn't actually show them? They only show the edges of their faces, or their shadows, so that you can imagine they're the worst thing you've ever seen in your life, but you don't actually have to see it? Well, I'm not going to do that, either.

I'm going to try to describe Cyris more or less as he was.

One of the symptoms of whatever was going on with him was that his skin seemed to slip in and out of focus. It was getting more and more transparent, or translucent. His face looked like something seen through a dark liquid. His eyes seemed to be made of two different shades of green. His fingers were translucent. (I should mention that one of our other housemates was from a people with transparent skin -- it is not an uncommon feature, or even a common one, but enough of the population has it that you can see it, more or less frequently, in groups of that size. I'm not making this up.)

He also got very thin, which was definitely not normal for him. He used to be stocky, but now his body was made of string. It was also not normal for him to be hunched over a computer in a dark room and talk to it all day, but I think we were all starting to believe he was capable of that, just because we'd seen him do it for so long.

Well, okay, none of this is really normal for anyone, but I'm trying to explain something to you. You're not a participant in this story. You are reading it. You're reading the story of the rest of us, wondering if we were too late.

I'm at the part where I would be explaining how I found out what had been going on, but I think this is getting to be too much like a story. I was at the part of the story where I, personally, had realized that I shouldn't do things like that anymore. That was also the part of the story where I broke into the house.

We had gone over to the house to make sure he was okay, because we were starting to get worried. (He wasn't.)

Now, I'm no specialist in information security, but, I think, if you're designing a system that you don't want anyone to break into, you should not put any of the controls in an easy-to-spot place.

There was a copy of a little white sign, half the size of a 8.5 X 11 sheet of paper, with black letters on it, sitting in the center of the hallway, where anyone could see it. On it was written the following, in all caps:

CYRIS'S New life BELONGS TO Him. THE PURE BLOSSOM IS THE FLOWER OF HIS SOUL. HE HAS NOT SOLD, NOR CAN HE EVER SELL THE PERFECT WORLD.

--

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

--

OKAY

Now, I'm not gonna say that I knew that this was actually a message. For one thing, it could just as easily have been a warning from Cyris to us, like some kind of teenager writing a private message to himself on a bathroom stall. There was some other writing there, too, or I

[annieintheaair]

I've got clear skin from all the sleep, clear mind from therapy, yoga four days a week. How does she do it? On time, never late, find time to meditate, yeah. These days I'm always great. How does she do it?

I’ve been so busy and working so hard lately that I slept until 11am today. I mean, I woke up around 9am to answer a few emails but then went back to sleep. I guess I’ve just been extra tired lately.

I’ve been flying a ton so I haven’t had a lot of free time. I finished a 5 night stretch after my trip on Monday night. It was a lot but when I see my paycheck, it’s totally worth it. I’ve managed to squeeze in a lot of yoga, too, which has been nice.

Tuesday I didn’t really get to take a nap after work because I was crazy busy with work stuff. My coworker at my side job messaged me late Monday afternoon asking if I could put together a report of damages for the quarter. She clearly didn’t realize how much work it was because I started it before work on Monday night and then had to spend all day Tuesday working on it, with only a break for our team meeting. I’m honestly so proud of my report and already got a jumpstart on my reports for the next two quarters. I figured I needed to get a lot done on Tuesday since I knew I wouldn’t have a ton of time on Wednesday.

Tuesday night yoga was perfect and just what I needed. I setup my mat and then this guy came up and asked, “Can I join you?” And my awkward self stumbled with my words but somehow got out a yes. All class, I couldn’t help but notice how good looking he was but when class ended, I acted like I had some sort of emergency and quickly rolled up my mat and ran out the door. Meeting people in real life is clearly going so well, haha.

I stayed up later than I should have that night and had to be up around 6am on Wednesday morning. I sat in traffic while I drove back to my old town to drop my dogs off at their sitter for the day. Since I made it there early, I made a last minute appointment to go to the chiropractor. I hadn’t been since August since I haven’t had the schedule to get there. He told me that he and his wife are getting a divorce and it just made me so sad to hear that. These days, it feels like nothing lasts forever.

After my appointment, I drove over to the first house to meet up with my realtor. The house was ok but the upstairs carpet was awful (like my old house). They had done some updates, which were nice, and the backyard needed some love but had beautiful crêpe myrtle trees and a huge grassy area outside the fence. We had to cross it off the list though because the owner was super strict about one dog only and of course, I have two.

The second house, although very outdated, was my favorite. It was a floorplan I’d seen before when Todd and I were looking and it had tons of closets. It was literally in the neighborhood across the street from my old neighborhood so the location was perfect. It’s been on the market a while and I think it’s because the backyard faces the main road, which doesn’t really bother me.

The third house, could be nice but needed a lot of fixing up. The paint colors were also terrible and the yard didn’t have any grass or possibility of grass. I immediately crossed it off my list.

My realtor said we should wait for the weekend to see if anything new comes on the market but I kind of feel like that’s one house might be the right fit for me.

Once I was done touring houses, I realized I had time to squeeze in a yoga class. There’s honestly no where I feel more at home than at that yoga studio. Heather was so sweet and welcoming and even Amy, the owner, said hi and welcomed me back, too. I can be gone for weeks, months, etc, and they always welcome me back like I never left.

After yoga I decided to get my car detailed. The outside was so dirty and it needed a good cleaning on the inside. I went to my favorite car wash, Tommy’s, and worked on my computer while I watched them out the window working on my car. They did an amazing job, as always.

I had a lot of extra time after that so I decided to go to the nail salon to see if they could fix my nails. The salon that did them on my birthday did such a horrible job that they were cracked, chipped, and even lumpy and not smooth. They were driving me crazy and I knew I couldn’t wait a few more weeks. Unfortunately, they were so bad that they couldn’t fix them and had to completely redo them.

The day went by super fast so by the time I left the nail salon, I didn’t have a ton of extra time. I went to Seven Doors for happy hour and had a sushi roll and frosé while I waited to meet Jillian at 5pm.

Jillian’s apartment complex invited them to this preview event at this new place called World Springs. They have like 40 something little pools and they’re all different temperatures and some are themed like bodies of water around the world like the Dead Sea and the Blue Lagoon. We loved the Blue Lagoon pool but hated the Dead Sea because of all of the salt that made us itchy. It was a super cool event and they passed around snacks and free drinks.

At 7pm, I met Julie and her daughter at the comedy club to see the medium, Jennie Marie. It was a really cool show but I was disappointed that I didn’t get to hear from anyone, especially Dan.

I picked up Ellie and Kirby around 9:45pm and was home around 10:45pm. I poured myself an aperol spritz, watched a little TV, and then went to bed.

Since I got up late today, I didn’t get to accomplish too much but did make it to Target to pickup a few things and then grabbed a poké bowl at my favorite spot for a late lunch/early dinner.

By the late afternoon/early evening, I put on the TV and took a short nap before work.

I’m currently deadheading to Tulsa to work a flight home early in the morning. It’s going to be a super short night and tonight is night one of five again. I’m starting to think I might appreciate being on reserve next month.

Anyway, when I got in my car after work on Tuesday morning, I heard the best new song. It’s my current theme song.

I know all my lines

I'm annoyingly fine

'Til the silence at night calls my bluff

I'm screaming, "Cut"

I need a moment to just

Let my tears fall where they want

Honestly, fuck

I've held it in long enough

I give it all that I got

I feel like I spend a lot of time just trying to be fine and hold it all together, while silently falling apart when I’m alone. When I’m out, working, hanging out with friends, and staying busy, I am okay. It’s when I’m home, all by myself, that I just fall apart because I don’t feel like I have a whole lot going on at home. It gets lonely, often, which is why I constantly try to stay busy. I’m trying to make some new friends, both close to home and also back in my old town. A girl asked to meet for coffee this Sunday in Fort Worth so I think I might try to do that since I do need to expand my friend circle.

The best part of this chapter of my life is that I’m getting to be me again. I get to be “Annie the Bright” at work, Eric from the concert calls me “Sweet Annie” and my friends have said that I’m shining like myself again. I’ve been told that when I was with Todd, it was like he dimmed my light and stopped me from shining. I didn’t see it at first but I do now. You should never be with someone who takes away the best parts of you or tries to change you. I get to be me again now.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about how Dan never tried to change me. He let me be who I was and loved all of the parts of me. Dan also trusted me in ways I never realized. I’ll never forget the night I went to Boston and brought crazy Samantha with me and she got drunk and went insane and made a scene at the fraternity party, completely embarrassing me. This guy, Matt, took me on his motorcycle back to his apartment so I didn’t have to sleep at the fraternity house that night. Obviously, nothing happened; Matt was just a nice guy. I called Dan and since he had been drinking that night, too, he couldn’t get me then but came super early in the morning, like 6am early. He got there as soon as he could. He never questioned me or assumed anything. He trusted me that nothing had happened and actually thanked Matt for taking care of me that night and giving me a place to sleep. On the way home to Providence, we stopped to get breakfast, too. These are the things about Dan that other people never really knew, but I knew about him. We never tried to change each other and he always trusted me and loved me no matter what.

Anyway, the good news is that once I finish this five night stretch, it’s almost the 4th of July and we’re planning on going out to the lake and watching the fireworks from the boats, which should be fun.

Well, we’re about to land in Tulsa and I’m already yawning. Almost time for bed.

Goodnight!

xoxo

Annie

[cjp-film]

Calculated Affection, On Set

Day 1

The first day of shooting started at 10am on the 27th of November, a bit later than we would have hoped. There were issues with booking equipment so the shoot days were pushed back a number of times, which meant there was less time for post production. But spirits were high and we were ready to get going.

The first thing that needed doing was dressing the set, so I began by moving the furniture to where we had planned in the recce. I had noticed that the wall lights were the perfect place to hang the bunting/ disco ball from, as it was fairly central and made a good composition. I also used the fairy lights which were already hung up to fill the space above the wall lights. Francis and I laid the table, spreading half drunk glasses of whiskey and eaten food over the tablecloth. The tablecloth itself was brand new so had quite prominent folds in it that I was worried were going to be too noticeable, but once it was covered in the decorations they were pretty well hidden.

The apple juice/ appletizer were really effective as alcohol in the glass, and I found some lime garnishes to put in the whiskey to make it more believable. We debated for a while if the ‘whiskey’ looked too apple juicy so played around with watering it down, but kept it straight apple juice in the end as it would need to be topped up throughout the shoot. The set ultimately ended up looking like so:

The first scene we shot was the dream sequence, which was meant to take place over the duration of the party, and establish the passing of time. This meant I wasn’t to worry too much about continuity, in fact I could even move the props to make it seem as though drinks had been drunk, etc.

The candles which are lit in the photos were not lit at all during shooting, due to risk assessment guidelines. We only lit them for about 10 minutes before we started so that they looked as though they had been burnt. It was a shame we could not have them lit because they did look very pretty.

Once the camera team had finished lighting the set, the actors were to improvise a sequence to show different scenarios of what might happen between old friends at a party. They looked really good in their costumes, with the matching shirt for the body double. I had sent Charlotte a few reference photos for some makeup and she executed it perfectly. There were a few bits of lighting equipment missing, so we had to improvise…

We needed an orange gel to light Nicola’s shoulder for the OTS shot. Thinking on his toes, max who was gaffer that day, went behind the bar and found a dried orange slice. We taped it to Ina’s phone torch which surprisingly worked perfectly. As I had finished dressing the set at that point I held up the orange slice where it was needed for the rest of the shoot.

We managed to stay on schedule and capture all the coverage we needed, only cutting one or two shots (which were planned to be cut anyway). There was a party in the function room starting at 8pm, which meant we needed to dismantle the set entirely before going home. I saved everything so that the next day would look as similar as possible.

Day 2

My first job before coming to set on the second day was to buy a birthday cake. I had given myself about 45 minutes because I knew I would be indecisive about choosing one. I went to Lidl, Tescos, Sainsburys and then back to Tesco. It was really hard to find one that wasn’t extremely expensive, or for kids. The one I found in Tesco was pretty average, with white icing and rainbow sprinkles. I was debating it for ages because it didn’t have icing around the side, only on top. I thought that this was probably the best I was going to get, as my time was running out. I thought it would look good with candles on anyway.

I arrived on set at 3:15 where I found the rest of the group had been struggling to get access back into the room. It was fine, as we had planned for this - we did not lose any time. Francis and I speedily put the objects back on the table in the same place as the last shot, referring to the photos we had taken the day before. The bunting had fallen down a lot yesterday as it got in the way of lighting setups, so we waited until they were finished to put it back with extra tape.

I searched for where I had kept my second bottle of appletizer/Prosecco, until I saw a half empty bottle in the fridge. The party had seemed to help themselves, which was fine as it was my fault for leaving it behind the bar! The leftover appletizer we has was enough, although it had lost some of its bubbles. A simple top up with soda from the tap was all it needed.

Once the set was ready looking the same as the day before, the camera team began the dolly shots. The annoying thing about this sequence was some of the props kept blocking the actors faces during the movement. It would be quite distracting sometimes, so we had to adjust the camera positioning.

The cake was needed next. I went to prepare it, putting the candles on in a circle around the edge. In this scene it is carried out while the party sings happy birthday. The candles were allowed to be lit as they were blown out within a matter of seconds. This of course took a number of takes, which meant that the candles got shorter and shorter each time, which may have been an issue with continuity at a certain point. I did have to run to the shop next door and grab another pack. For one of the master shots, the candles needed to be lit halfway through a take, which was difficult due to the sound of the lighter.

The cake. ⬆️

Overall, I was happy with my work over the two days of shooting. We worked really well together as a crew and I look forward to seeing the final result on the screen.

BTS photos:

OSP and FW