#OH im selling ceramics now too!

[aers]

fucking kill yourself you ugly piece of shit

no thank you i am having so much fun being alive ! ! ! :0)

[bts-babyjoonie]

Potion Witch- Namkook AU CH1

Pairing: Namjoon X Jungkook

Tags:  M for mature, Witch Jungkook x Witch Namjoon, fluff, clumsy Namjoon, eventual smut

Word count: 1,676

Summary: Namjoon is a potion making witch. He's also very clumsy and prone to making mistakes. Probably not the best thing when your job is to handle delicate substances. Every two weeks Namjoon goes into town with a wagon full of his potions. He delivers them to his buddy and closest business partner Jungkook. Lately, Jungkook has been having trouble falling asleep so he turns to Namjoon to make him a sleep remedy. Of course, Namjoon agrees and makes it for him, but he accidentally mixes up the potions and gives Jungkook the wrong one. The next thing he knew, Jungkook was a bunny.

 He’s done it now hasn't he….

Namjoon was a clumsy witch. Which was not something to aw at considering the fact he was a potion maker. It was a very delicate process and a long-limbed creature such as himself would need to be extra cautious.

Namjoon made his potions in his own cabin home located in an isolated part of the dark forest. The human villages were terrified of what horrible things lay imbibed deep, but as a witch, Namjoon did not mind. When his potions were ready he would stack them up on a wagon and make a trip to town where his good witch friend Jungkook lived. None of the humans there knew Jungkook was a witch of course. He owned a hidden magic shop in the middle of the large town. It was hidden from all non-magic users.

Aside from being close friends, Namjoon and Jungkook were also great business partners. The reason for his weekly trip to town was to bring Jungkook the potions he ordered. Jungkook would tell him what he needed and Namjoon would go home and conjure up a batch. All for a price of course.

One calm morning, a day before Namjoons bi-weekly trip to town, a crow landed on his bedroom window. The loud caw startled him awake and he frantically turned his head towards the sound. It was the ebony bird perched on the window sill with a letter between its beak. Namjoon sighed in relief. It was just a messenger crow. Jungkook had most likely sent it to him. Perhaps he needed another potion added to tomorrow's delivery. He got out of his cozy bed and scuttled over to his window. Namjoon tried his best to gently open it, but the house was so old that it got stuck not even halfway. He tugged on it a bit harder and the window rolled up so quickly that it crashed into the top startling the poor crow.

“O-oh I’m so sorry little birdie, forgive me”, Namjoon apologized. The crow seemed annoyed but it did not mind him. The dark bird let the letter fall into the large palms of Namjoon's hands and flew away. Namjoon sighed, he didn't get to feed the crow the seeds he had been storing from the times he went foraging. He opened up the letter that was sealed with a red wax stamp and on it was a message from Jungkook.

Dear Joon,

I apologize for getting this to you so late but I have a request to make.

I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately and I was wondering if you

could brew me a sleep potion. It would be much obliged and I’ll make sure

To pay you a good sum as always.

Sincerely, Jungkook.

Namjoon did not mind at all. Jungkook was the first person to make him feel welcome in the area and besides, he thought the younger witch was cute.

Since he didn't have anything else to do for the day he got started on Jungkook's request. He added dry lavender, chamomile flowers, oats, and a couple of other ingredients into the boiling pot. Before long it was done; so he bottled it and placed it beside tomorrow's delivery. He wasn’t paying much attention when he set the bottle down to another one of a similar hue. The next morning Namjoon rounded up all the bottles and carefully put them in crates. He loaded the crates onto his wagon and walked over to his horse to feed him an apple before leaving. The trip to town was about 30 minutes and it wasn't long before Namjoon had arrived at the magic shop. Jungkook heard the sound of the wagon wheels approaching so he left the shop to go and help Namjoon out.

“Morning Joon, you got what I asked for?”, Jungkook asked. “Yes I sure do, let me take these crates inside and I'll hand it to you then”. Namjoon swung his leg over the horse's body and hopped down onto the cobblestone road. Jungkook grabbed one of the wooden crates in the back and Namjoon grabbed the other. The door to the shop was closed but with just a wave of Jungkook's index finger, it slowly crept open. Inside the store were walls and walls filled with interesting Knick knacks, magical books, and of course potions of many colors. Green ivy grew in the cracks and crevices of the stone wall and spread over some of the shelves. Small objects like teacups and paper cranes floated in the air and led up the stairs to the area where the more powerful and dangerous items were stored.

Namjoon always stared in awe every time he entered the store. The vibe of it all was something else. “You can set those on that table, I’ll organize them soon”, Jungkook suddenly spoke, interrupting the silence. Namjoon almost dropped the crates. He was always a bit jittery when it came to Jungkook.

He set the crates on the wooden table. Usually, it would carry items for sale but today it was empty. Namjoon set the crate of potions onto the table next to where Jungkooks placed his. Jungkook yawned loudly and it reminded Namjoon of the bottle he needed to give him. He went over to the crate and grabbed the potion with the dark blue hue.

“Here Jungkook, I have the remedy to your sleeping problems”, Namjoon said while handing the bottle over to him. He smiled upon receiving it and Namjoon’s heart swelled at the sight.

“Oh, by the way, you should probably take this with some tea. I made it pretty potent so you could have some leftover for other times. All you have to do is add four drops into a cup of tea and tonight you will have a restful slumber”, Namjoon explained.

“Then… would you like to have a cup of tea with me Namjoon?”.

Namjoon nodded with a shy smile, his dimples showing on his cheeks.

“Alright follow me into the back, we can have our tea in my kitchen”.

Namjoon followed Jungkook behind the register and into a room hidden by a curtain of vines.

Inside was a daint little kitchen. The cabinets were a sage green color and the floor was a dark cedar wood just like in the shop.

“Please, take a seat at the table. I’ll go make the tea. Would you like mint or black?”, Jungkook asked. “Mint would be nice”, Namjoon said softly. Jungkook smiled and went over to the ceramic jar where he kept his mint tea. Namjoon looked to the corner of the room where the round table was. There were only two chairs but it was perfect. Namjoon took a seat and a couple of minutes later Jungkook came over with the tea. He placed the blue and white teacup in front of Namjoon and put some biscuits in the middle of the table.

“I have your payment in my room I’ll go and get it real quick”, said Jungkook already turning his body to head into the other room.

“Wait!”, said Namjoon. “You don’t have to pay me. It’s not like you’ll be selling it to others so you can think of it as a favor”, he grinned. Jungkook stared at namjoons crescent moon eyes and softly smiled.

“Are you sure Joon? I really don’t mind paying you for this”.

“Yes I’m sure, just take it as a gift”.

Jungkook sat down at the table with Namjoon and pulled out the sleeping potion. He unscrewed the top and held it over his teacup letting exactly four drops fall in. Jungkook looked at Namjoon for reassurance and he urged him on. He brought the teacup up towards his face and placed his soft rosy lips onto the edge of the cup. He took a few sips and placed the cup back down.

“Wow, N-namjoon it’s a little *ahem* s-spicy isn’t it?”. Jungkook coughed from the discomfort he felt in his throat.

“S-spicy? It shouldn’t be spicy”, Namjoon said concern laced in his voice.

Blue smoke started emitting from Jungkook’s body and the boys grew more and more worried by the second.

“Um, Joon what the hell is going on right now?! What did you put in this?”, Jungkook gasped. It was getting harder to breathe. It felt as if his body was beginning to fold into itself.

“I p-put in all the ingredients a sleep potion needed! I don’t know w-why it’s reacting this way!”

“Well think!”, Jungkook yelped.

Namjoon put his brain to work for a moment trying to remember if he had added another ingredient that could’ve caused this reaction when all of a sudden realization dawned upon him. That’s not a sleep potion that a transfiguration potion! His careless self gave Jungkook the wrong potion!

“O-okay don’t freak out Jungkook I know what’s happening right now”, Namjoon reassured the younger boy.

“Don’t freak out?!  IM FREAKING OUT NAMJOON”.

The smoke was getting thicker and it seemed like Jungkook was getting smaller. Namjoon knew what was happening. This was a transfiguration potion Jungkook had asked for that turns the user into their spirit animal. The problem is Namjoon made the potion extra strong, as per request. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get his friend out of this dilemma. God he should really stop going off of the colors of potions to identify them. Sometimes he had too much faith in himself.

The smoke stopped rising and as it dissipated Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.

“Umm, Jungkook? Where’d you go?”, Namjoon called.

“I’m on the stupid chair”, said a small high pitched voice.

Namjoon stepped away from his seat and looked under the table only to see a small bunny huddled where Jungkook had previously been sitting. He was completely covered in black fur and his eyes had that familiar dark shine.

Jungkook had turned into a bunny.

“I’ve done it now”, whispered Namjoon.

a/n: First fic on Tumblr woohoo! Not sure how many chapters there will be but we’ll see I guess :D.

[illfoandillfie]

5 Simple Rules for a Successful Fake Relationship: One Small Hitch

READ PART 1

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

summery: You and Ben have your first official date and settle into your "relationship". But, with filming coming to a close, you'll need to be more committed to the act than before, especially when Ben's keeping secrets.

Warnings: Again, nothing much. Some language. Drinking. Nothing else I can think of.

Words: 8355

AN: Chapter 2 is finally here! Sorry for the delay but hopefully the next part will be up faster. I'm really really enjoying writing this series and I am so very excited about what's coming! The song mentioned is Reckless Serenade by Arctic Monkeys. Sidenote: Can anyone work out the theme of the chapter titles?

Taglist:  @laedymoon​  @dtfrogertaylor​  @vee-ndetta​​ @atomic-watermelon​ @kellypenac​​ @labessieisallama​​ @deakyclicks​​ @jennyggggrrr​​ @drowseoftaylor​​  @hannafuckingsucks​​  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​​ @queenmylovely​​ @supersonicfreddie​

“I’ve got something for you,” you half shouted at Ben when you saw him walking towards you from across the field you were filming in. You shuffled your shitty takeaway coffee into your other hand so you could reach into your bag, pulling out a piece of paper folded in half. He took it and pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.  “Funny cause I have something for you too,” Ben said as he let you go, reaching into his backpack and handing you a magazine, “Oh, shit, it’s our rules. You want page 15 by the way.”  “Figured you’d want a record of them. What exactly am I looking f-” you let the word hang as you found the right page. It was decorated with a photo of you and Ben kissing on his doorstep, his hand around your back, the shirt you’d borrowed riding up just enough that it was clear you didn’t have shorts on underneath as you clutched at him. There was some text beside it, mentions of your most notable roles and his, a brief description of the movie you were in the process of making, and some speculatory remarks with a couple of innuendos thrown in. The usual gossip mag fare. On the other side of the paragraph was another photo, both of you leaving set the previous Friday, hand in hand and smiling.  “We look pretty good together,” you laughed, getting only a noncommittal grunt in return. He’d suddenly become very interested in the sheet you’d handed him, staring at it like he hadn’t been there when it was written. You reread the brief article, trying not to gawk at the photographs. It certainly looked believable.   “I’ve had about four people wish us well this morning,” Ben suddenly said, seemingly pulling himself together, folding up the rules and shoving them into his back pocket, “and I’ve not been here long. It’s kinda weird having everyone know we’re together. Or think we’re together,” he quickly corrected himself.  “Yeah, Mel kept asking me questions about it while she was doing my makeup this morning, so I hope she took my awkwardness as me wanting to keep things private and not me not knowing how to answer some of them.”  Ben chuckled, “yeah, Gail gave me a bit of a grilling too. I just told her we’d been sort of seeing each other for a few weeks and had only just like made it official or whatever and she seemed to buy it.”  “Good, I told Mel the same sort of thing. Hopefully that’s enough for them.”  “I’m more concerned with what my friends are going to say. I don’t think any of them read Heat though so hopefully it doesn’t come up any time soon,”  “Lucky. My friend Felicity has the dumb site bookmarked. Checks it religiously. Bloody miracle she hasn’t called yet.”  “Better turn of your phone then,”  “And come back to a full voicemail and about a hundred texts demanding to know why I’m ghosting her?”  “Tell her you were filming. I do it all the time,” he was grinning at you and you couldn’t help but grin back as you pulled your phone out and shut it off, “atta girl,” he pulled you into his side and gave you an affectionate squeeze that you leaned into , fully aware of how many people were around you, potentially watching. It was a feeling that didn’t really let up. You knew, rationally, that everyone there was focused on their jobs, but you couldn’t help feeling like you were constantly being scrutinised, and not just for your acting. It didn’t help when Seth had to stop recording to fix a problem with the boom mic and, good-humouredly, said, “don’t worry lovebirds, we’ll have her running in a second.” Or that one of the ADs delivered your call sheets for the next day with a, “I always thought you’d be cute together.” And it certainly didn’t help when you turned your phone on at the end of the day to find a series of texts from Felicity each with more exclamation points and capital letters than the last, and a missed call from Mary.   “Better call her back,” Ben said, following you towards the carpark.  You rolled your eyes, already holding the phone up to your ear listening to it ring.  “Y/N, I was just about to try you again,”  “Sorry, Mary, I had my phone off while we were recording, what’s the matter?”  “Are you free this weekend?”  “Um yeah, I think so, why?”  “We’d like for you and Ben to go on a date this weekend. Somewhere in London preferably but it’s up to you. You saw the article in Heat? It seems to be going well. The hits your names have got on google have increased and there have been a few tweets about it. Nothing huge, you’re not trending or anything but you’re still relatively unknown so we weren’t expecting that to happen, certainly not overnight. But we think if we get a date story out quickly it’ll really help get people interested.”  You rubbed your temple as you tried to process everything she’d just said, “Okay, I’ll talk to him and we’ll organise something. I’ll text you the details once I have them.”  “Okay, let me know as soon as you can though. And send Peter the info too.”  “Will do. See ya Mary.”  “Was that about me?” Ben asked, smiling as he leaned against your car.  “You up for a date this weekend? Apparently the first story went well and they want a follow up ASAP.”  “Sure, where are we going?”  “I don’t know, somewhere around London would apparently be best, but we get to choose. Any thoughts?”  He thought for a moment, “This isn’t our first date is it? Like, we’ve said we’ve been on others before, right?”  “Yeah, why?”  “Well normally for a first date I take girls out for dinner and then, depending on the girl and how the dinner went, either a quiet drink or like a romantic as fuck walk in the park or something.”  “That’s pretty standard stuff, Ben,”  “Yeah, but in the fiction of us as a couple, this isn’t our first date. This’d be, what?”  “Fifth maybe?”  “Fifth. So I’m still trying to impress you a bit, but it’s like, more relaxed. We’ve done the dinner date, we’ve done coffee and a movie, we’ve even done the Museum. Now we’re getting into the fun shit.”  “Museums don’t count as fun shit?” you chuckled, not sure where his train of thought was taking you.  “It’s a bit overdone is all.”  “What do you have in mind then?”  “There’s this place that runs art classes during the day, right? Life drawing or like painting for beginner's type stuff. But a couple of nights a week they run these art and wine nights. They’ll give you a canvas or a ceramic figure or something like that and some paints and you can have a few drinks and do something arty. I did it with some mates a while ago, had heaps of fun. Seemed like the sort of thing yo- a girl might like to do on a date.”  “That definitely sound fun.”  “Really? You’re into it?”  “Yeah, for sure.”  “Okay,” Ben pulled out his phone and began typing, “shall I book us in for the Saturday night ceramics session?”  “Go ahead. What time was that, so I can let Mary and Peter know.”  “Seven thirty. If we get a cab in a little earlier we can grab something to eat on our way.”  “Cool, okay I’ll text them. Is it BYO?”  “Yeah. They do sell some stuff but it’s a pretty small selection.”  “Okay, well that’s something to look forward to. Anyway, I should be going since I have about a million texts to sort through, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  “Wait, one thing,” Ben said before you could open your car door, “There’s a few people coming off set now so I’m going to kiss you, okay?”  “Thanks for the heads up,”  “No worries,” he stepped closer, his hand rising to cup your cheek as he kissed you softly. He took longer to break away than you’d expected, letting the kiss deepen instead, but you didn’t mind too much. It was a good kiss. And if it hadn’t been for Ben and the movie, you would have been severely lacking them recently. Which explained the vague feeling of disappointment that hit you when he did step back.  

On your way home your phone beeped with another text from Felicity but you ignored it until you were inside and changed into the comfiest clothes you could find, flopping down on your bed to scroll through what she’d written. They varied from, “omg why didn’t you tell me about this Ben guy?” to “Y/N!!! Answer my texts!!!” all the way up to, “BITCH!!! CALL ME!!!!”   She picked up on the first ring.   “Where the fuck have you been all day?”  “Some of us don’t have office jobs we hate,” you laughed, “I actually had to work, funnily enough, and because we were on location I had to keep my phone off while we recorded.”  “Well I’ve been going crazy over here. Imagine my shock when I boot up my computer and open Heat and see your fucking arse being grabbed by your co-star.”  “He was not grabbing my arse.”  “Close enough. You didn’t tell me how fucking gorgeous he is.”  “No, well, I don’t usually think about the people I work with like that, do I?”  “Which is why I was so surprised to see you’ve shacked up with one of them.”  “It’s not quite that serious.”  “One night stands aren’t your usual thing. Definitely not with guys you work with anyway.”  “I never said it was a one night stand, just that it wasn’t super serious!”  “How many times then?”  “We’ve been on like four dates.”  “You fuckhead! You mean to tell me you’re actually dating this guy, who by the way looks like he could be a fucking underwear model, and you didn’t think to tell me? No so much as a I got dicked down by a total babe aren’t you jealous message?”  “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it if it wasn’t going to go anywhere.”  “But still, I’m your best friend, I tell you about every shag I have.”  “In graphic detail,”  “Exactly.”  “Look it’s just a bit weird still. Neither of us have really hooked up with a co-star before and we didn’t want to say anything until we worked out what was happening.”  “I guess that makes sense,” you could tell she didn’t mean it, “But, now that it’s out you owe me. I want to hear all about it.”  “There’s not much to tell. We became quite good friends during all the pre-production stuff when we were rehearsing and all that. Our director wanted to make sure we clicked and had the right chemistry and stuff, since it’s a romcom and our characters get engaged in the first scene, so we hung out a lot. And then just before filming started he asked me out. Took me to this nice Chinese restaurant. It was fun so we agreed to go out again and it’s sort of just kept going.”  “Those photos, was that the first time you’d stayed over at his?”  “Second. First time was a couple of weeks ago. The night that led to the photos was just a few drinks after work with some of the others and we ended up ducking out a bit early and wound up at his.”  “And?”   “And what?” You had a hard time not laughing when you heard her groan. Her eagerness to know every sordid detail made her easy to fuck with, and that made the whole business of being secretive a lot more fun.  “And, how was he?”  “I mean…y’know,”  “Y/N, I swear to god,”  “He was good, okay? Really good,” you remembered what Ben had told you to say, trying not to laugh too much while you repeated it, “like, three orgasms good.”  “Shit, really?”  “Uhuh. And then another in the morning.”  Felicity replied with a long whistle, “shit, girl, hold onto that one then. That’s definitely worth any trouble working together could cause."  “Believe me, I know. We’re going out again this weekend.” It was surprisingly easy to lie about dating Ben. Though, of course, you weren’t technically lying since you would be going on a date.   “Shit man, date five. That’s serious shit. You better tell me everything, in graphic detail.” 

When you told Ben about the conversation the next day, admitting you’d spent ages praising his sexual prowess, he laughed and then thanked you, pulling you into a tight bear hug. You thought it was a slight overreaction considering he’d been the one to tell you what to say but his happiness was infectious, and you found yourself smiling more than normal as you hung out between scenes. An attitude which could only help your performance, making people more ready to believe you were a couple. His easy laughter and bright smiles continued until the afternoon when you were telling him more about Felicity and what you’d talked about.   “She thinks you’re a keeper and kept telling me not to let you go.”  “Your friend knows what she’s talking about.”  “Lucky for you I can’t let you go since it’s all written up in a contract,”  Ben laughed but when you glanced at him his smile seemed to falter.   “You okay?”  “Brilliant. Just had a bit of a late night and it’s catching up on me. Think I might try to have a quick nap before we’re needed again.”  “I was thinking of grabbing another coffee if you want one?”  “Thanks Y/N but I think the nap will do me more good.”  “Probably better people don’t see us heading off to a trailer together anyway or they’ll suspect we’re getting up to mischief.”  “Very true. I’ll see you a bit later.”  “Sleep well!”  Ben turned to leave, his smile seeming more forced than earlier. You would have worried except he seemed to be back to normal when he was called for your next scene. And it continued on through the week, his happiness only getting more pronounced the closer it got to the weekend.  

You couldn’t quite match his energy on Friday, anxiety over your date getting stronger the closer you got to it. Hanging out at his place had been easy, even if it did include leaving half dressed. All you’d had to do was kiss him which you’d done enough times during filming that it was no longer too odd. But a proper date was something else. It was going to be the first real test you faced, the first time you’d really have to sell yourselves to the public as more than co-stars and more than a hook-up.  “Hey are you okay?”  “Huh?”  “Your jiggling your leg a lot which you only do when something’s worrying you, what is it?”  “Oh,” you forced your leg to stop moving, “nothing,”  “Is it about our date tonight?”  “What if it’s bad? What if we don’t look like we’re actually together and Mary and Pete have to cancel the whole thing?”  “I’d get a decent night sleep not thinking about us,” he muttered.  “What?”  “I’ve been worried about it too,” he said louder, “but I think we’ll be okay. It’s not like we’ll be starved for conversation and we’ll have the paint and the wine and we’ll be fine. Plus, weren’t you the one who said this would be easy?”  “Yeah I was,” you said sheepishly, “but -”  “No buts. It’ll be a piece of cake. We go and have a good time painting a couple of plates or bowls or whatever, and then hold hands while we head home. They’ll get whatever shots they get, and they’ll spin it so we look like a couple.”  “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry,”  “It’s okay,” he reached out to rub the back of your hand, smiling softly at you, “the nerves might actually help you look like you’re legit. And worst comes to worst we can always run lines. I’m honestly so much more nervous about shooting that scene tomorrow.”  “The one where we’re playing matchmaker?”  “Yes! Have you seen how many names are in there?”  “Theres like six, Ben,”  “Yeah but they’re all repeated, and I know I’m going to get the order wrong,”  You giggled and shook your head, “You’re unbelievable,”  “Oh whatever,” he pushed your shoulder almost making you overbalance, “Just cos you know the lines already.” 

Ben’s efforts to calm you down worked and you got through the rest of the workday without a hitch. Though your stomach was once again tight with nerves in the hours before the date. You spent a solid half hour standing in front of your wardrobe, freshly washed hair slowly dripping down the back of the towel you had wrapped around you, trying to settle on what to wear. When you were finally dressed you checked and rechecked the contents of your purse, and, in a moment of panic, you grabbed the heavily highlighted and notated script pages with the matchmaker scene and shoved them in beside your lipstick and bank card. By the time Ben arrived in an Uber to pick you up, ushering you into the backseat with a kiss on the cheek and a complement about how lovely you looked, you felt like you were on the verge of throwing up. But, once again, Ben’s natural charm eased your mind. The way he talked to you and smiled constantly had your heart rate slowing and your stomach settling within minutes. Even the way he squeezed your hand when he helped you out of the car, and the way he laced his fingers with yours as he led you towards your destination were welcome comforts.  “D’you wanna grab something to eat?” Ben asked, stopping on a corner and looking around, annoyed people passing by on both sides.  “Uhh, s’pose so.”  “Has anyone ever told you you’re indecisive?”  “I swear I’m not normally.”  “Oh? Do I make you nervous, snookum?” he asked, playfully.  “No, you git,” you laughed back, though you found it hard to meet his eyes, “I just don’t know I’m that hungry.”  “Well, keep in mind there’ll be wine drinking. Don’t want to do that on an empty stomach.”  “Valid argument. What’s nearby?”  After some wandering you ended up in a McDonalds, Ben wolfing down a burger while you picked at the fries, not quite certain you’d be able to keep your food down. It was when you were coming out of a bottle shop, Ben holding the wine you’d agreed on, that you spotted the photographer. It was the same one who’d been outside Ben’s house when you stayed over, camera aimed at the two of you. Quietly you nudged Ben. He just wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side as you walked. You struggled to not watch the photographer as he followed you towards the art studio, having to keep reminding yourself to pretend he wasn’t there.  “Relax,” Ben said softly in your ear, “He’s not important.”  You nodded, afraid if you said anything you’d lose the meagre dinner you’d had. Ben’s thumb rubbing over your own gave you something else to focus on, counting each soft, smooth stroke, until you reached the right place.  

You weren’t the only couple there, far from it. Most of the claimed tables were taken by pairs sitting close together, hands clasped or laying on thighs as they talked. A few tables held larger groups, double dates maybe or perhaps just friends. You felt a few eyes on you as you found a table close to the clear glass of the shopfront, but they turned away again quickly, more interested in their own little bubbles than yours. You glanced outside to check if the photographer was still there but couldn’t see much more than the reflection of you and Ben. His knee bumped yours under the table as he leaned toward you, pressing a finger to your jaw to turn your head towards him.  “Forget the photographer. Forget Mary and Peter. Forget our arrangement. We're just two friends having a fun night out, okay?”  “Okay,”   “Okay. So what are you thinking of painting then?” He unscrewed the bottle of wine and grabbed one of the glasses you’d been handed on arrival.   “Well what are my options?”  “Well there’s your classic teacup, mug or plate options. There’s a couple of different jewellery boxes, I think. And then there are the statues, ummm, fairy, dragon, alien. Maybe a princess one, I can’t remember.”  “More than I thought there’d be. What were you thinking?”  “I did a dragon last time I was here. But I think I’m going to do a mug this time. Need some extras if you’re gonna be staying over more often.”  “Maybe we should both do mugs, then? Something we can use at each other’s places.”  “Alright, deal. But we can’t look at what the other is painting until they’re done.”  “That’s going to be so hard!” you laughed, feeling properly relaxed for the first time all night.  “Yeah but it’ll be fun though. Wait here, I’ll go grab us the mugs.”  You took the opportunity to look around the room, trying to think of what Ben might like on a mug. There was art everywhere – paintings hanging on walls, examples of what the classes could teach you, decorated ceramics lining windowsills and shelves. Judging by the wildly differing levels of talent displayed, you assumed at least some of them were left behind and never claimed. There were plates decorated with fruit trees and ocean scenes, jugs covered in splatters of different colours, aliens in shimmery blue and princesses with green hair and orange dresses. But nothing that sparked your imagination. The noise of the room was steadily growing as everyone got stuck into their creations. Ben sat down, took a drink and got to work mixing colours.  “You know what you’re going to do then?”  “I have an idea. But I will warn you I’m not a particularly good artist so it might not look anything like what it’s meant to.”  You picked up your blank mug and put it down again, tapping the end of a paintbrush against the table as you tried to come up with an idea. What did Ben like? He liked coffee. And dogs. And his guitar. More than once he’d brought it to set, playing it in his downtime. He’d been embarrassed the first time you mentioned overhearing him as you passed by his trailer, but you’d assured him you’d liked listening to him. You’d had the song stuck in your head for a week afterwards.   “Made up your mind, have you?” Ben asked, glancing up from his handiwork as you mixed a pale peach colour.  “No peeking,”  “I wasn’t peeking. If I’d been peeking, I would have done this,” Ben craned his neck, leaning over to where your mug was.   You laughed and pulled the mug closer to you, pushing him away with your other hand.  He caught it in his own, taking the paintbrush from you, “Oi, careful with that.”  “Oops, sorry,”  Ben laughed and kissed your palm before letting you have your hand back, “No harm done. But y’know if you splattered me I’d have no choice but to get payback.”  There was no need to reach for the script you’d brought as you and Ben fell into conversation while you painted. He asked if you’d had any more awkward phone calls with your friends and told you about what had happened when his mates had found out. Nothing like the conversation you’d endured, though there’d been plenty of teasing. You had to admonish him for nearly getting paint on your work when he began using the largest brush he had to artistically spray drops of paint over his mug. And then he’d laughed when you paused, admitting out loud that you weren’t actually sure how to paint the thing you’d planned on painting. He’d promised not to peek while you whipped out your phone to look up a reference image, going to far as to cover his eyes just to make sure. Once you gave him the okay he went back to painting, switching to a thinner brush and shushing you so he could concentrate. It was ridiculous how cute he looked, tongue between his teeth, bent over the mug as he slowly outlined the design. You shook your head to clear the thought and went back to your own work. 

“Okay, I’m done. You wanna see now?”  “Yes, absolutely. Unless you think we should wait until after they’ve been glazed?”  “Fuck that, we can’t pick them up for a couple of days, I wanna show you now.”  “Alright, show me then,” you put down your brush, focusing all your attention onto the mug in Ben’s hands. The base coat was a light purple, with splatters of darker purple over top. Slowly he turned the mug to show you the design on the front. It bore a slightly wonky engagement ring, similar to the one his character gave yours in the movie. On either side of the ring, in thin, not quite straight lettering, was the words we’re really good at this dating thing.   You smiled as soon as you read the quote from the script, “I love it, Ben”  “Thought it was kind of fitting,” he chuckled, “plus it’ll be a nice little souvenir once the movie wraps.”  “That was a fun scene to shoot. Best proposal I’ve ever had.”  Ben smiled and carefully turned his mug back towards him, “Best proposal I’ve ever given,” He seemed to be about to say something but stopped himself, shaking his head.  You lowered your voice, “Promise I’ll get to keep it after we break up?”  “Promise,” Ben said, matching your level and leaning in close, “Until then maybe you can use it as a reminder whenever you feel anxious about this whole dating thing.”  “Thanks, I will.”   You were suddenly very aware of how softly you were speaking, how close you were sitting, leaning in to hear each other over the rest of the room, and for a split second you thought he was going to kiss you again. But then the moment passed, the noise of the room intruding as Ben leaned back in his seat, “So do I get to see mine?”  “Uh, it’s not quite done,” you said, picking up your brush again, the moment gone, “give me another couple of minutes.”  “Masterpieces take time, I get it,”  “This is by no stretch a masterpiece,”  “I’ll be the judge of that thanks very much,”  Ben turned to look out over the room while you tried to finish your painting without smudging anything, occasionally making comments about other people there or the art that decorated the room.  You took one last look at what you’d painted, the guitar with the words stun gun lullaby written in cursive beside it, “Alright, I’m done now, you can look. Careful, some of it’s still wet.”  Ben gently took hold of the handle and turned the mug so the design faced him. He broke out into a grin and you felt relieved that he liked it.   “It’s definitely a masterpiece. For someone who didn’t know how to draw a guitar you’ve done an incredible job. And how did you know that’s one of my favourite songs?”  “Is it? It's just the song I overheard you playing that one time. I thought that line was a good one for a mug. Nice and short so I didn’t have to paint too much.”  “This is definitely my new favourite mug.”  “Oh stop it.”  “And hey, they kind of match.”  You laughed when he pointed out the similarities, “Guess they do. Y’know that’d make a pretty cute Instagram post.”  “You going to tag me as my mug?”  “Of course. You could post a photo and tag me in it too,”  “I don’t know. I don’t really post much personal stuff online.”  “Well at least comment on mine,”  “I can do that.”  

After you’d taken a decent photo and posted it online you cleaned up, handed your mugs over to the woman running the night’s activity and stepped back out into the night. There was no sign of the photographer anywhere and you supposed he’d got what he needed and then left.   Still, Ben grabbed your hand as you walked back up the street, just in case you’d missed the photographer in the crowd.   “Guess that means we don’t have to worry about going home together,” you said, nudging Ben.  “Guess not,” his lips quirked down in a soft frown.”  “What is it?”  “Nothing, nothing, just...feels kind of weird to just end the date here, I guess,” he scratched the back of his head and laughed, “Normally I’d offer to give you a lift home. Or at least give you a good night kiss, but I guess that’s not really needed now.”  “Well, it’s like you said, we’re just friends having a fun night out. We could share a ride home though, if you wanted. You live near enough to mine it wouldn’t matter.”  “Nah, don’t worry about it. I actually might go grab something to eat, don’t think that burger was quite enough. See you on Monday?”  “Oh, yeah, okay, see you Monday.”   There was a pause, both of you hesitating and then Ben gave you a much too quick hug before he walked off, disappearing into the crowd. You sighed and hailed a passing cab, spending the whole ride home wondering what the hell had just happened. But you pushed it from your mind once you were home, going through your usual nightly routine and very deliberately thinking of anything other than Ben. It didn’t help much. You still dreamt about him. Dreamt about the goodnight kiss you’d missed out on.    

When you woke you had to laugh at yourself. You were sure that, had you binged a few episodes of a tv show or read something before you’d gone to bed you would have dreamt about it instead. Brains were suggestable like that. When you felt awake enough you rolled over and grabbed your phone finding a text from Ben and one from Felicity and an email from Mary. You opened Mary’s first, skimming over it and vowing to look at it properly once you had a coffee in your system. Ben’s was much easier to understand, a short message to say he had fun last night and that he’d pick the mugs up on his way to work on Monday. Felicity’s was just a series of question marks. You sent back a short response saying the date had been a lot of fun. It wasn’t enough and she was bound to come back at you asking for more details, but it would have to satisfy her. Slowly you got out of bed and made yourself a coffee, setting your laptop up next to you at the kitchen counter so you could try to read Mary’s email again. There was some information about some scripts she was going to send you, a couple of potential future roles, but the majority of the email was about you and Ben. She’d already seen the photos, apparently, and some of them would be run in the coming week’s magazine while others were being put online. She’d also seen the Instagram post and commended you for thinking of it. Another date would have to be organised, but it was better to wait until the next weekend or even the one after, so as not to fatigue the public.  

So you and Ben fell into the routine of it. An email from one or other of your agents sometimes as vague as just telling you to organise a date, sometimes much more specific in what they wanted you to be doing, then the date itself, and in between work where you played up the romance as much as possible. You got good at pretending to stay over at each other's places, often just hanging out watching TV or running lines until the photographer called it a night and you were free to leave. Once or twice you’d opted to sleep in your own bed but get up early and head over to Ben’s for the required morning after shots but that process got old very quickly so you ended up actually staying over more and more. There was one day when your period came unexpectedly while you were at Ben’s. You were halfway through asking him to take you home when he offered to run to the store for you instead.  “No, no, you don’t have to go out of your way like that, I’ve got plenty at home I just didn’t think I’d need any today.”  “Y/N, I promise, it’s no trouble. I feel bad I don’t have anything here for you already. Been a while since I’ve lived with a girl and it didn’t even cross my mind. Seriously, it’ll take me two minutes.” When you still weren’t convinced he continued, “Plus, if I go we won’t ruin Peter and Mary’s plan for today. And the Paps can get a shot of me staring at boxes of tampons like a good caring boyfriend. It’ll help our image.”  “Oh alright, as long as you don’t mind.”  He was out the door a second later and back within ten minutes, though you did get a call from him at the shop, asking what brand you preferred. Once he was home, he made you a cup of tea, gave you a painkiller and, after checking you didn’t mind, cuddled up with you on the couch, teasingly calling you his cuddle bunny as he pulled you back against his chest. You almost complained, almost cited Rule 5, but it wasn’t so bad. Some might even go so far as to call it cute. It was better than snookum at any rate.  

 The dates themselves got easier after the first. You knew what to expect now so it wasn’t as nerve wracking as before. And Ben was always fun to be around, your list of inside jokes steadily growing as he became the one person you spent the most time with. You let yourselves relax a bit. On your third date Ben’s arm stayed glued around your waist as you walked around the zoo, only losing contact when a lemur jumped on his shoulder and you stepped back to take a photo. It wasn’t low enough to violate the rules you’d put in place but his hand was dangerously close to falling below your belt, and it was definitely something you would have put a stop to when you first started the charade. The Instagram posts had got more frequent too, though Ben still refused to post anything to his own profile. But he commented on everything you posted whether it involved him or not. And people were buying it. You’d been moved from page 15 to page 13 and then to page 10 in the magazines. You both picked up more followers online as your photos were shared across Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr. There were some downsides like rude comments and nasty messages but mostly they were easy to ignore. Worse were the phone calls and messages from family members and friends asking when they’d get to meet Ben. He’d had to fend off his own family as well, but you both stuck to Rule 4, making up excuses and promising it would happen eventually, but it just wasn’t possible right now. But your biggest problem was the issue of intimacy. It wasn’t the lack of sex itself, that was easily managed. It was that Ben had started to intrude on your fantasies. You’d be there with your fingers or your toys and suddenly it was Ben’s voice you were thinking of, Ben’s hands, Ben’s teeth and tongue and chest. Ben’s name falling from your lips. And you knew it was just because you were pretending to date him, on and off set. It was the dumb suggestable brain thing again. The thoughts were only there because you were pretending to be in love with him and usually sex was tied up with love or at least relationships. And really, you hadn’t been attracted to anyone much lately because you hadn’t been looking because you’d been pretending to be attracted to Ben so it’s really no wonder you’re brain got all confused and mixed him into those other thoughts. The first time you saw him after it first happened you wondered if he could tell, a slightly flustered awkwardness hanging over you. But it wasn’t worth mentioning to anyone. You just vowed to push him out of your mind as much as you could.  

Nearly two months later you found yourselves back in the office where the idea of pretending to date was first floated. With filming drawing to a close Mary and Peter were keen to check in with you. The first thing either of them said when you and Ben turned up is how well the story was going.  “Projections have the sales for this movie increased by five percent, just because of your relationship and that number is expected to grow as we get closer to release,” Mary spoke fast though whether that was excitement at the boosted numbers or just a busy schedule rushing her along you weren’t sure.  “What happens now?” Ben asked, “I mean, since we won’t be filming together anymore after this week,”  “That’s exactly why we wanted to talk with you both today,” Peter opened a pocket notebook and thumbed through a couple of pages, “so not much will change but we may occasionally need to balance out the loss of on set photos with shots of you out and about together. Nothing stressful and all very easily staged. You probably wouldn’t even need to be out for more than an hour or so at a time. People have been loving the domestic sort of photos you’ve been putting online, Y/N, that one of you using the coffee mugs you painted was especially good. So we’d like a few more of those sorts of moments. The two of you grocery shopping or walking a dog, do either of you have a dog? No? Hmmm, we could hire a dog and write a story about you sitting for a friend. We’ll put a pin in that for now. But yes, just some candid shots of you walking around London and doing regular everyday things together.”  “We’ll also need to schedule the argument soon. We’re thinking somewhere within the first two weeks of filming being over. It means we can run speculation about whether the relationship is on the rocks now that you aren’t working together anymore. We’ll see how things go this week and make some decisions later, but we’ll give you plenty of warning before you have to perform it. Obviously, it has to be scheduled so we can guarantee someone will get photos but we need it to seem as natual as possible so we’ll leave the specifics of the argument up to you.”  You nodded along but Ben had more questions.  “What does this mean for any jobs we might be looking at taking after this movie wraps?”  “You can still take on whatever roles you want provided they’re filming here. It’s harder to keep you in the public eye if you’re separated and while the drama of a long-distance relationship might be interesting at first, it’s not sustainable.”  “If it was filming somewhere else in the UK we could maybe organise something. We’d have to look into it and see if it was possible to stick to our same plan but just shift the location. Maybe have a weekend visit angle to it, Y/N flies out to see Ben, Ben comes home to see Y/N, that kind of thing.”  “Leave it with us Ben and we’ll get back to you on the logistics of it all.”  “Oh, that’s okay, I don’t have anything set in stone, I was just curious.”  “Is there anything else you have questions about?”  “No, I don’t think so,” He looked towards you.  “No, I’m all good.”  “Okay, well, if you think of anything you can message us any time.”  “Really, though, this is going very well. It’s already paying off but we need to keep the momentum during the post-production phase, so we need you both to be committed to this.”  “We are.”  “Unbelievably committed,” Ben added. 

You and Ben left the meeting joking about potential arguments you could have and for the rest of the day, whenever you passed each other in the halls or had a moment alone you’d try to one up each other's suggestions. It was a good way to keep your spirits up even though the end of filming was fast approaching. One by one each cast member recorded their last scenes, saying an emotional thank you to the crew when the director called cut. You and Ben were the last to finish since you were the leads. A small pillow talk scene that you could do in your sleep. It was a nice way to end it, lying in bed with Ben’s arms around you, even with the heat of the studio lights. While you were waiting for the cameras to be positioned you and Ben joked around with the crew that were flitting around angling mics and adjusting set decorations.   “Hey, Seth,” Ben said suddenly, “can you pass me my phone. I think we need to document this moment. What d’you say, cuddle bunny?”  You laughed and poked him in the side but agreed. Ben stuck his arm straight up into the air, trying to angle the camera just right but he couldn’t quite get the photo to take without blurring. Seth took pity on you and offered to take the photo himself, allowing you and Ben to snuggle in close.  “If you post it on Insta you better credit me,” Set laughed, turning it round to show you.  “I’ll do that,” He said with a smile, “It’s pretty cute, I think I have to post it.”  “Really?” you asked, surprised he’d volunteer to do such a thing.  Ben didn’t have a chance to respond because everything was ready to go. Seth put the phone back away so you could film the scene, laughing in between takes until everyone was satisfied.   “That’s a wrap on Ben Hardy and Y/N Y/L/N everybody,”  A round of applause started as you pushed yourself to sit up, trying to stop yourself from welling up.  “And that’s a wrap on The Perfect Match.”  The applause continued and Ben pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing your back and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You had to say a few words but you managed to get through it, and Ben’s little speech, without completely losing it. Afterwards, as people packed up the equipment and you headed back to your trailers to change, Ben pulled out his phone again.  “I guess I should post that photo now, how’s this caption,” he said each word slowly as he typed it out, “Thank you Y/N for being the perfect Edith to my Andy. And thank you @theperfectmatchmovie for finding me my perfect match.”   “Did you tag me?”  “Of course,”  “Did you tag Seth?”  “Uhhhh, camera emoji by @seththesoundman. Now I have,”  “Then it’s perfect. Little bit cheesy but I’ll let it slide.”  “I’ll post another lot of photos with everyone else later and write a longer thing about how much fun this movie was and all of that, but I think this’ll do for the minute. Mary and Peter better fucking appreciate it.” 

That evening most of the cast and crew headed out for drinks at the local pub. The official party would come later but everyone needed to get out and celebrate for an evening. You and Ben stayed for a few hours, Ben getting a little more clingy with each drink he finished. You limited yourself to only a couple. Ben wasn’t going to be able to drive so you decided to fall on that sword, switching to water quite early on. When he reached the point of intoxication that had him constantly complementing everyone you decided to call it a night, taking a final lap to say goodnight to everyone. There were a few wolf whistles and slurred comments about getting some as you left, Ben’s arm around your waist and his laugh in your ear, but you waved them off and led Ben out to your car.   “C’mon Benny boy, I’ll drop you home.”  “What about my car?”  “Well you’ll have to come get it in the morning, won’t you.”  He hummed and lay his head against the back of the seat, chatting animatedly as you made the trip to his. You wished him goodnight as he got out of the car and watched him make his way up to his front door. There he paused, patting his pockets.  “Everything alright? You called out to him.  “I don’t have any keys,” he laughed, turning around to come back to the car.  “You fucking goon, did you leave them at the pub?”  “Guess so,” he shrugged, “Can I crash at yours?”  “Get in,”  “Thanks cuddle bunny, you’re the best”  You rolled your eyes, “Guess this means I’ll be your taxi tomorrow, running you around to find your keys and your car,”  “That’s what girlfriends are for,”  “If you say so.”  

Once at yours you headed to the kitchen to make tea, Ben following to grab a glass of water and a snack. He knew where you kept everything by now, making himself a sandwich with whatever he found in your fridge, and then carrying it out to the couch. By the time the teas were made Ben already had Netflix queued up, ready to play the next episode of the series you’d started watching together. Nearly Twenty minutes into the episode Ben’s phone dinged.  “Ah shit,” he said as he glanced at it, “forgot I said I’d call Joe. Do you mind if we pause the ep? We’re trying to organise travel stuff for him and it’s easier if we talk it through rather than texting it all.”  “Sure,”  “I promise I won’t be long.”  “Take your time, it’s fine,” you were already reaching for your laptop.  Ben smiled at you before ducking out of the room. You head him walking down the hall, footsteps fading as he got further away. For a while you just enjoyed the quiet as you checked your emails and social media profiles but after commenting on the photo Ben had posted and replying to a few messages from people you knew there wasn’t really much left to do. You drummed your fingers on your keyboard trying to think of another website you could visit. There was still no sign of Ben and you didn’t want to continue the show without him so you stood up, stretched, and headed back to the kitchen to grab some chocolate from the stash you kept. You were just about to shut the fridge when you heard Ben’s voice coming from the other side of the wall. Your spare room where he’d clearly gone to make his phone call.   “Yeah, Joe, I fucking know. But I don’t have much choice.” He sounded more sober than he had when he’d got up. There was a pause as Joe spoke and then you heard Ben again.  “I don’t know what I was thinking getting into this mess…..Yeah maybe. Doesn’t really matter though now does it…. What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t just call it quits now, the story is doing too well and Peter has assured me that the numbers are promising or whatever I don’t really know how they measure it. All I know is that people are going to see the movie because of us.”  There was a long pause. You quietly shut the fridge and took a step back towards the doorway. This was not a conversation you should be listening in to. But then Ben spoke again, and curiosity got the better of you.  “It doesn’t matter Joe. It doesn’t matter how I feel.” He laughed but it was completely devoid of humour, “Of course it sucks. It’s fucking shit, man. I just keep waiting for her to tell me she feels the same but it’s not happening…... No, I know it’s completely one sided…..No, I don’t think she knows. She wouldn’t have wanted to do it in the first place if she knew…. I just wish things were different. I love being around her and being able to hold her and kiss her but it fucking sucks that it’s only in public….. I don’t know. Maybe not filming together will ma-”  You could feel your cheeks burning as you tiptoed back towards the lounge room, not quite sure what to do with yourself. You paced back and forth for a moment before deciding to go to the bathroom, at least then Ben couldn’t walk in on you as you tried to process it. You let the door shut loudly behind you, hoping that if Ben had heard movement he’d think you’d just got up to use the loo. He couldn’t know you’d overheard him. You leaned against the sink and tried to make sense of what you’d heard. Ben couldn’t have a crush on you, he just couldn’t. But it was the only thing he could have been talking about. What the fuck did that mean for your arrangement? What the fuck were you meant to do now?

[annafm]

(MEDALION RAHIMI, NONBINARY) - Have you seen ANNABEL MAJIDI? ANNA is in HER/THEIR JUNIOR year. The LITERATURE + INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISM MAJOR is 22 years old & is a SCORPIO. People say SHE/THEY are DILIGENT, ADROIT, CYNICAL and AUSTERE. Rumors say they’re a member of WINTHROP. I heard from the gossip blog that THEY ARE FAKING BEING A PSYCHIC. (JAMES. 21. EST. THEY/THEM.)

hllo this is anna i hvnt .. played her in a while <3 bt thts okay i think she is very fun 2 play bt like in the way tht she is <3 serious n mean a bit ... bt its okay .. LHKDSGFHLKSDHLKG im sorry this is long this is. an old intro i hvnt rly changed much >.>

CAR ACCIDENT, INJURY TW

aesthetic.

falling feathers darkened at the tips, tweed and pinstripes, red trenchcoats and plaid skirts, worn ballet shoes covered in dust, smudged eyeliner and unruly hair, boxing gloves, ornate canes and pain medication, bandaged hands, classical music floating throughout an empty ballroom, worn jackets and awkwardly cut t-shirts, spilled ink and stained hands, glasses skewed, sneers and jabs, constant fighting, smog in a city, spotlights and encores, piles of books and a long line, backless dresses and sitting alone at a bar, wariness.

basic.

full name: annabel odeda majidi

nickname(s): anna, annie (father only), anna-banana (father only)

b.o.d. - october 31st, 1997

label(s): the catalyst, the charlatan, the minefield, etc.

height: 5′6″

hometown: nyc, ny

sexuality: bisexual

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favorite song: you’re dead, norma tanega / now, your hope and compassion is gone / you’ve sold out your dream to the world / stay dead, stay dead, stay dead / you’re dead and outta this world

background.

born to two high schoolers who never married, firoj majidi and parvana banai. they were head over heels for each other - when firoj graduated he took up two jobs alongside community college to support their family, until parvana graduated and took on the arts.

growing up was tough - living in the city wasn’t cheap, parvana’s art rarely sold and the two often went without eating in order to provide for annabel. as a child she’d often wear hand-me-downs from extended family.

was taught to be a hard worker and it was reflected in her schoolwork - anna excelled in all her classes but especially english. her love for writing grew at a young age, and as a child she saved up enough money to buy herself proper journals.

the only thing that she grew more passionate towards than writing was ballet - she caught the image of girls flying through the air and landing on their toes in the window of a dance studio on a walk home from school one day and that was it - something clicked inside of her.

that same day she would spend hours prancing about their tiny apartment, trying to mimic what she’d seen. it was easy to spot the passion anna had for the dance - and within a few months they had saved up enough money for a month’s worth of lessons.

anna was ecstatic - her slippers were old and found in the back of a thrift store by an odd miracle, but she put her all into the lessons regardless. she was quick to pick up on each move, and by the end of the month it was clear that anna had a natural talent.

parvana picked up a job in order for them to keep affording the lessons, month after month - they weighed down on their pockets, but it kept anna happy.

flash forward a few years - life was good. money was still a struggle but they were tight knit.

or rather, anna thought they were tight knit.

firoj and parvana split up when anna was twelve - an event that rocked the young girl’s world, something that she couldn’t understand. they had kept up a front of love when anna was home from school or ballet - but behind doors, they had been growing apart.

anna viewed their separation as parvana running off with another man - an art collector who had a fascination with paravana’s paintings. she viewed this as the end of the world. she viewed this as the death of love.

when anna was twelve, she swore she would never fall in love - refused to believe in its existence. she couldn’t wrap her mind around the simple separation.

her father got a third job in order to keep up with payments, and anna pushed herself in both ballet and school - not being able to handle an empty apartment. she decided to get a job - to help ease her father, but was too young.

so anna decided to do what any average 12 year old would do. she started scamming people.

she’d sell store-bought lemonade as if it were homemade, stole ceramics from art class and sold them to neighbors. she found an old girl scouts uniform in the back of a goodwill and for the next month, she sold knock-off girl scout cookies from the dollar store - going door to door.

her personality had changed drastically - anna went from a sweet, optimistic girl with warm brown eyes and an infectious laugh to cold, calculated, and downright cruel. she knew what she wanted and how to get it.

she got an invitation to a prestigious private school, full scholarship, before she hit high school - originally wanted to reject it as the thought of being surrounded by new york’s richest teens was appalling, but their ballet program was a one-way ticket into the american ballet theatre. anna ultimately accepted the scholarship.

high school was immediately hell for her - pretentious rich kids who all shared a collective brain cell and her secondhand uniform being a prime target for them.

ballet got extremely competitive - anna was a threat to every dancer in their program, bullying and sabotage became standard - but anna retaliated when possible.

this all, however, suddenly stopped when anna picked up her latest scam: faking psychic. through a small network of ‘bees’ she’d pay to gather information (gossip, rumors, etc. etc.) she was able to accurately ~see~ into students’ past, present, and potentially future affairs. the money was very worth it.

from that point forward, people were intimidated by her.

when anna was 16 she was handpicked to join the american ballet theatre’s studio company, alongside 11 other lucky individuals. her dream from that point forward was to become the youngest principal ballerina for abt - and she was going to start by winning over the role of clara in their production of the nutcracker.

she was 17 when she was chosen, much to the dismay of the other girls. she had momentarily quit her ‘psychic’ business in order to dedicate the entirety of her time towards rehearsals & practice.

the final week before her first performance as clara, anna got into a car accident heading home after another tiresome rehearsal. knocked unconscious, anna woke up three days later with no recollection of the accident - and her leg freshly operated on.

it was a devastating event that should had killed her - maybe she would had been better off if it had - but instead, it had effectively destroyed any chances of her dancing professionally.

it took two months of extensive physical therapy for anna to walk again - now relying heavily on a cane.

with ptsd and depression weighing heavily on her shoulders, anna turned back to writing - mostly as a coping mechanism, but it soon became the fierce passion it once was when she was younger.

for the remainder of her high school life, anna dedicated the majority of her time towards recovery, her writing, and directing her school’s theatre productions. oh - and claiming that almost dying had given her the gift of mediumship. it wasn’t too far off from her psychic claims - her peers believed it well enough to either stay away, or pay her for a small amount of comfort.

decided to attend yates for their reputation despite her hatred for pretentious schools (very ironic because she herself is pretentious) & also. she had a scholarship <3 so. 

in the midst of writing her first book that’s based heavily on her experiences as a low income student at a private school but like. she’s side-eying all these societies and seeing a Big Money Grab if she were to. write abt them instead

still can’t dance any longer, but she works as a ballet assistant for one of the dance instructors & still tends to barge her way into theatre rehearsals to <3 give her unwarranted opinion

personality & facts.

she’s not the friendliest person. knows what she wants and how to get it, and will not hesitate to use people or push them out of her way in order to achieve her goals.

her cutthroat nature was the reason for her success in academics and dance - tends to intimidate the students in the ballet classes she helps out in.

horribly stubborn - if she’s got an idea of you already in her mind, then it’s hard to convince her otherwise.

still uses a cane - in fact, she can’t really walk without it - unless she wants to be in pain.

it’s sturdy, ornate, and pretty fucking solid. doubles as a weapon if need be - has definitely … hit people with it before, though she’s calmed down now that she’s a little older.

used to be very angry, very defensive as a teenager - is still the same, just … less intense. will not hesitate to speak her mind and let her opinions known - especially in the face of injustice.

doesn’t really have the best … relationship with authority, mainly because of where she was raised and her con-artist businesses. tends to be snarky and sarcastic to anybody in charge - or really, anybody in general.

pretty distrusting, pretty emotionless on the outside, doesn’t like to be seen as weak or somebody to be pitied. keeps herself closely guarded and doesn’t really let others ‘inside’ due to her own comfort levels.

she’ll sleep around but dating is out of the question, for the most part - she’s been on a few blind dates, a few casual get-togethers - but she’s always the one to break things off. is more of a careful hook-up kind of gal.

still does her psychic medium business !! sometimes she wonders if she’s a bad person because of it - but ultimately, it’s on her customers for believing in all that nonsense anyway. anna herself is a skeptic - doesn’t believe in anything unless she can see it and feel it.

is actually … a pretty sentimental person, doesn’t take anything she’s got for granted, and is hugely appreciative of her father. sends him money when she can. hasn’t spoken to her mother in years - pretty sure she’s got a step / half-sibling or two but she’s never met them.

a lone wolf and likes it that way, but she isn’t super opposed to friendship - even if she won’t necessarily call anybody a friend. appreciates others who are similar to her - got their head on right, and knows what they want in life.

has a pretty bad fear of driving - will uber if she needs to go anywhere - even then, being in cars makes her pretty anxious. still has ptsd-induced panic attacks, though she’s managed them pretty well.

doesn’t really do drugs! will smoke weed to ease the ache and her nerves, but otherwise she only takes what is prescribed for her. doesn’t drink anything hard, either. big fan of beer and wine. probably gets wine drunk home alone late at night … like … two times a week.

goes between being high strung and uncaring - she’s not especially moody ( rather, is just consistently angry for whatever reasons ) but she definitely tries to bottle everything up.

probably keeps pepper spray on her at all times, even though she’s got her cane. has cat ear brass knuckles on her keychain - took advantage of the archery club at her private school. she’s not paranoid, she just likes being prepared.

has a soft spot for children, animals, and soft women. kind of person who will put herself in the line of danger in order to protect others - even if she doesn’t necessarily know them too well.

also the kind of person who’ll set something on fire - or do something because you’ve told her not to. incredibly spiteful when wronged. will raise hell if need be.

morally ambiguous tbh.

wanted connections.

who do u think i am ;; either uh. people who have seen her around campus being a bit of a freak like <3 kick someone’s tire in a small fit of rage <3 or spend 20 minutes trying to coax a cat near her so she could pet it <3 or having a that’s so raven moment <3 or someone who tried to help her out with something and she was like. excuse me. what the fuck. get away from me freak loser. maybe threatened them.

slowburn but make it evil ;; uh. when i played her as older she hd a plot where she <3 ws engaged n then broke it off bcos her fiance cheated <3 so i wld like another. plot where she actually <3 tries to enjoy someone else’s company and presence and it just ends up hurting her n reaffirming her idea tht love is? fake n dumb n stupid. thank u.

ykno ... a little dash of spice ... ;; uh. yknow just hookups. hateships <3 or they never talk abt what happened <3 or an awkward drunk one night stand <3 maybe a pregnancy scare and shes like Ah. motherhood Scares me. because she <3 hates her own mother <3 LDSLKFHLGSHLK. it leaves their relationship rly weird the whole ordeal ... maybe even just a blind date <3 or someone she ghosted

read my future ;; customers very classic uh. just people who come to her for her psychic readings <3 and her uh. talking to the dead <3 but also alternately. skeptics ?? people suspicious of her ?? very epic. 

like actually Die? ;; enemies. she hates them so bad. maybe its one-sided. maybe theyre an annoyance. maybe she annoys them? very bad not very good. 

and we dance dance dance, dance dance dance <3 ;; this is just. fr ballet students. or, hold up, consider this: someone who recognizes her frm this. very tragic event where she cld no longer b a ballerina bc i think it ws. like not the Biggest deal bt if ur muse ran in private school circles ykno ??

pet the feral cat ;; these r the soft <3 normal connections <3 someone she’s soft for / protective of. friends that she doesn’t completely hate. 

i Do Not Know ;; i will. take anything. please. weed dealers, people she’s totally sus about for no reason. she steals and reads their mail. they have been rivals for years. they hv a special bond. they r strangers but they get stuck in an elevator. she’s tutoring them bt she wont let them take a break n she keeps making them recite fucking. shakespeare. anything is sexy and fun n cool

[almightanna]

cisfemale — ever hear people say ANNABEL DE LA ROSA looks a lot like ADRIA ARJONA? I think SHE is about 30, so it doesn’t really work. The AUTHOR / BALLET INSTRUCTOR has lived in Livingstone for SIX MONTHS. They can be DILIGENT, but they can also be CYNICAL. I think ANNA might be A TIER 1 SHEPHERD. ( snot goblin. 20. est. she/they. )

i’m sry this took ... so long to put out ... ive been rly lazy these past few days but !! she is Here and she is Ready. i haven’t played her in a few months and last time she was a junior in high school so !! forgive me. but she’s a very old muse and has gone thru ... several fc changes. anyways !! please give this a LIKE if you’d like for me to slide into ur ims. 

TW: POVERTY, DIVORCE SORT OF, CAR ACCIDENT, TRAUMATIC INJURIES, MENTIONS OF DEATH, GRIEF.

a e s t h e t i c s

falling feathers darkened at the tips, leather jackets and pinstripes, red trenchcoats and plaid skirts, worn ballet shoes covered in dust, smudged eyeliner and unruly hair, boxing gloves, ornate canes and pain medication, bandaged hands, classical music floating throughout an empty ballroom, bomber jackets and cropped tees, spilled ink and stained hands, glasses skewed, sneers and jabs, constant fighting, smog in a city, spotlights and encores, piles of books and a long line, backless dresses and sitting alone at a bar, wariness.

general info !!

full name: annabel maritza de la rosa

nickname(s): anna, annie (hates), anna banana (father, exclusively)

b.o.d. - october 31st. scorpio child.

label(s): the catalyst, the charlatan, the crepehanger, the minefield

height: 5′7″

hometown: nyc, ny

sexuality: bisexual

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biography !!

born to two high schoolers who never married, mathías de la rosa and leonora nieves. they were head over heels for each other - when mathías graduated he took up two jobs alongside community college to support their family, until leonora graduated and took on the arts.

growing up was tough - living in the city wasn’t cheap, leonora’s art rarely sold and the two often went without eating in order to provide for annabel. as a child she’d often wear hand-me-downs from extended family.

was taught to be a hard worker and it was reflected in her schoolwork - anna excelled in all her classes but especially english. her love for writing grew at a young age, and as a child she saved up enough money to buy herself proper journals. 

the only thing that she grew more passionate towards than writing was ballet - she caught the image of girls flying through the air and landing on their toes in the window of a dance studio on a walk home from school one day and that was it - something clicked inside of her.

that same day she would spend hours prancing about their tiny apartment, trying to mimic what she’d seen. it was easy to spot the passion anna had for the dance - and within a few months they had saved up enough money for a month’s worth of lessons.

anna was ecstatic - her slippers were old and found in the back of a thrift store by an odd miracle, but she put her all into the lessons regardless. she was quick to pick up on each move, and by the end of the month it was clear that anna had a natural talent.

leonora picked up a job in order for them to keep affording the lessons, month after month - they weighed down on their pockets, but it kept anna happy.

flash forward a few years - life was good. money was still a struggle but they were tight knit.

or rather, anna thought they were tight knit.

mathías and leonora split up when anna was twelve - an event that rocked the young girl’s world, something that she couldn’t understand. they had kept up a front of love when anna was home from school or ballet - but behind doors, they had been growing apart.

anna viewed their separation as leonora running off with another man - an art collector who had a fascination with leonora’s paintings. she viewed this as the end of the world. she viewed this as the death of love.

when anna was twelve, she swore she would never fall in love - refused to believe in its existence. she couldn’t wrap her mind around the simple separation.

her father got a third job in order to keep up with payments, and anna pushed herself in both ballet and school - not being able to handle an empty apartment. she decided to get a job - to help ease her father, but was too young.

so anna decided to do what any average 12 year old would do. she started scamming people.

she’d sell store-bought lemonade as if it were homemade, stole ceramics from art class and sold them to neighbors. she found an old girl scouts uniform in the back of a goodwill and for the next month, she sold knock-off girl scout cookies from the dollar store - going door to door.

her personality had changed drastically - anna went from a sweet, optimistic girl with warm brown eyes and an infectious laugh to cold, calculated, and downright cruel. she knew what she wanted and how to get it.

she got an invitation to a prestigious private school, full scholarship, before she hit high school - originally wanted to reject it as the thought of being surrounded by new york’s richest teens was appalling, but their ballet program was a one-way ticket into the american ballet theatre. anna ultimately accepted the scholarship.

high school was immediately hell for her - pretentious rich kids who all shared a collective brain cell and her secondhand uniform being a prime target for them.

ballet got extremely competitive - anna was a threat to every dancer in their program, bullying and sabotage became standard - but anna retaliated when possible.

this all, however, suddenly stopped when anna picked up her latest scam: faking psychic. through a small network of ‘bees’ she’d pay to gather information (gossip, rumors, etc. etc.) she was able to accurately ~see~ into students’ past, present, and potentially future affairs. the money was very worth it.

from that point forward, people were intimidated by her.

when anna was 16 she was handpicked to join the american ballet theatre’s studio company, alongside 11 other lucky individuals. her dream from that point forward was to become the youngest principal ballerina for abt - and she was going to start by winning over the role of clara in their production of the nutcracker.

she was 17 when she was chosen, much to the dismay of the other girls. she had momentarily quit her ‘psychic’ business in order to dedicate the entirety of her time towards rehearsals & practice.

the final week before her first performance as clara, anna got into a car accident heading home after another tiresome rehearsal. knocked unconscious, anna woke up three days later with no recollection of the accident - and her leg freshly operated on.

it was a devastating event that should had killed her - maybe she would had been better off if it had - but instead, it had effectively destroyed any chances of her dancing professionally.

it took two months of extensive physical therapy for anna to walk again - now relying heavily on a cane.

with ptsd and depression weighing heavily on her shoulders, anna turned back to writing - mostly as a coping mechanism, but it soon became the fierce passion it once was when she was younger.

for the remainder of her high school life, anna dedicated the majority of her time towards recovery, her writing, and directing her school’s theatre productions. oh - and claiming that almost dying had given her the gift of mediumship. it wasn’t too far off from her psychic claims - her peers believed it well enough to either stay away, or pay her for a small amount of comfort.

went to columbia after graduation on a full scholarship - it’s one of her few sources of pride - where she earned her dual degree in english & investigative journalism ( mostly because she didn’t know what she wanted to do )

wrote and published a book based heavily on her experiences as a scholarship student at a private school - YA fiction, essentially - mostly just to dip her toes in the water and become established as an author. surprisingly - the book was a hit, and has written three more in the form of a small series. she also wrote a small book on what it’s like being a ‘psychic medium’.

annabel only came to livingstone after the apner family had left her a hefty email - pleading with her to connect to their dead son. it was in livingstone that annabel heard of the watershed app - and it was from there that her interest was peaked. she immediately found herself involved as a tier 1 shepherd.

she’s partially there to take notes - to learn as much about the app as she can - and partially to strengthen and build her side-business, though she had thought she was retired. the con, however, is too great to resist. essentially - she wants to become a high enough tier to learn the dirt on everybody, and then use that for her psychic business. 

decided to become a dance instructor due to her experience as a ballerina, but because she can’t really ... dance, has assistants that help her.

personality !!

lives in a semi-decent apartment downtown where the elevator would break every other week until she threatened her landlord and it was magically fixed permanently  :^)

that being said - she’s not the friendliest person. knows what she wants and how to get it, and will not hesitate to use people or push them out of her way in order to achieve her goals.

her cutthroat nature was the reason for her success in academics and dance - her students are all terrified of her, and rightfully so. she teaches dancers between the ages of 16-24. while incredibly hard on them - she’d rip someone a new one if they tried to hurt any of her students.

horribly stubborn - if she’s got an idea of you already in her mind, then it’s hard to convince her otherwise.

still uses a cane - in fact, she can’t really walk without it - unless she wants to be in pain.

it’s sturdy, ornate, and pretty fucking solid. doubles as a weapon if need be - has definitely ... hit people with it before, though she’s calmed down now that she’s older.

used to be very angry, very defensive as a teenager and young adult - is still the same, just ... less intense. will not hesitate to speak her mind and let her opinions known - especially in the face of injustice.

doesn’t really have the best ... relationship with authority, mainly because of where she was raised and her con-artist businesses. tends to be snarky and sarcastic to anybody in charge - or really, anybody in general. 

pretty distrusting, pretty emotionless on the outside, doesn’t like to be seen as weak or somebody to be pitied. keeps herself closely guarded and doesn’t really let others ‘inside’ due to her own comfort levels.

swore off love when she was 12 and during a fluke mid-twenties, wound up engaged. called off the engagement when she found her groom-to-be and her bridesmaid-slash-cousin together. very classic - very re-enforcing of a few of her greatest fears.

she’ll sleep around but dating is out of the question, for the most part - she’s been on a few blind dates, a few casual get-togethers - but she’s always the one to break things off. is more of a careful hook-up kind of gal.

still does her psychic medium business !! sometimes she wonders if she’s a bad person because of it - but ultimately, it’s on her customers for believing in all that nonsense anyway. anna herself is a skeptic - doesn’t believe in anything unless she can see it and feel it.

her apartment is still half-packed, half-unpacked, because she honestly cannot be bothered. got out the essentials and that was it. still has her ballet shoes, still has all of her awards for competitions she’s won - they’re just in a box tucked away somewhere labeled ‘do not open’.

is actually ... a pretty sentimental person, doesn’t take anything she’s got for granted, and is hugely appreciative of her father. sends him money when she can. hasn’t spoken to her mother in years - pretty sure she’s got a step / half-sibling or two but she’s never met them. 

a lone wolf and likes it that way, but she isn’t super opposed to friendship - even if she won’t necessarily call anybody a friend. appreciates others who are similar to her - got their head on right, and knows what they want in life.

has a pretty bad fear of driving - will uber if she needs to go anywhere - even then, being in cars makes her pretty anxious. still has ptsd-induced panic attacks, though she’s managed them pretty well.

doesn’t really do drugs! will smoke weed to ease the ache and her nerves, but otherwise she only takes what is prescribed for her. doesn’t drink anything hard, either. big fan of beer and wine. probably gets wine drunk home alone late at night ... like ... two times a week.

goes between being high strung and uncaring - she’s not especially moody ( rather, is just consistently angry for whatever reasons ) but she definitely tries to bottle everything up.

probably keeps pepper spray on her at all times, even though she’s got her cane. has a gun in her apartment, cat ear brass knuckles on her keychain. she’s not paranoid, she just likes being prepared.

kind of wants to write a novel based off of watershed so! she takes a lot of notes - tends to be very observant.

has a soft spot for children, animals, and soft women. kind of person who will put herself in the line of danger in order to protect others - even if she doesn’t necessarily know them too well.

also the kind of person who’ll set something on fire - or do something because you’ve told her not to. incredibly spiteful when wronged. will raise hell if need be.

morally ambiguous tbh.

wanted connections !!

maybe ... a roommate? i imagine her living alone but i also like the idea of having roommate so :^)

she’s sort of new in town so ! acquaintances. people who’ve seen her in town and are curious. people who’ve seen her like ... kick someone’s tire in a small fit of rage or spend 20 minutes trying to coax a cat into coming near her so she could pet it.

fans of her books !!

someone from new york who recognizes her from whatever !! whether it’s from newspaper details of her incident, her legacy at her private school, someone who went to the same college as her, her legacy as a ballerina before her incident, etc. etc.

has taken up boxing recently - so somebody whose helping her at the gym?

someone who tried to like. help her cross the road or something because they saw her with her cane and she yelled at them so now they’re in this weird spot.

students !! if somebody does ballet - she might be teaching them.

alternately, one of her assistants !!

someone she’s soft for for whatever reason :/

hookups !! preferably mid-20s to like. late-30s. she’s not a cougar, i’m sorry :(

somebody who wants her to be a cougar. and she just has to keep rejecting them.

customers who come to her for psychic readings and like. comfort in the form of talking to the dead.

people skeptical of her !! maybe trying to ruin her in some way.

other shepherds. someone higher up that she’s trying to manipulate in some way for her own benefits.

a drunk one night stand that neither wants to talk about.

a pregnancy scare with another, separate one night stand! it turned out to be nothing, but there was some. weirdness. between them afterwards.

a blind date or two dnfjgkmh

someone she ghosted :/

someone she’s like, protected from a creep at a bar or a club ! and now they feel indebted towards her and she’s just like uuuh no. stop.

annoyances !!

like ... maybe a pal or two, or three. mainly just people she gets along with !!

on the other end - something where they just. despise each other for whatever reason. pure hatred.

hatred but make it sexy.

a dealer because even though she can get medical marijuana ... it’s good to have a lil extra on ya :)

people She’s suspicious of for whatever reason - someone she caught doing something. suspicious. untrustworthy.

someone where their mail keeps getting mixed up.

uuh really im down for anything !!

[wetthamm]

January 5, 2023

I haven’t actually posted anything for awhile. Honestly I treat this app like Pinterest where I just repost and scroll through pretty poems and paintings.

I wanted to write about my art goals this year! These are not organized (they are for me lol)

- be more ambitious: in terms of the scale I work with, the content/ subject, just think of a way to add a complexity that complements the viewing experience— as well as my concept.

- be content: I don’t have to be satisfied. Not every artwork I make will satisfy me or be “good”.

- build a body of work or a collection: I want to expand my portfolio and show a bit of specialization.

- show work on social media: I should post my work on multiple platforms. But I hate being perceived. But also it’s not that serious.

- think of selling some work: I could make prints or make Linocut prints. Sell mugs too from ceramics class.

- be passionate: look ahead (uh-oh) and just absorb as much as I can. Look for things that inspire me.

- make more art friends: I feel mentally ill slobbering all over my keyboard trying to write every thought down. I can just have a discussion with a friend THAT UNDERSTANDS.

- compile and organize references and resources. Look into art magazines, art history, etc.

- make lots of stuff: honestly it’s a win if I make something (at the end of the day) because I gained experience… right? Be ambitious like that

- painting: I want to paint on linen and use more oil paints. Given my school and given the space I have to work with, I don’t think this will happen.

Also with painting… be more thoughtful about what I’m making. Spontaneity doesn’t really work for me. I need a vision, a purpose, and meaning. This would mean doing more design work and research about the art I’m making.

I’m interested in making art about the Dreamscape, about longing and yearning. About life, biological systems, the micro-cosmos, love, queerness, magic, the figure, transcendental painting group, Impressionism, environmental art practices, imperceptible worlds, philosophy, femininity, softness, yeah that’s it’s for now. Im thinking of ways how to engage in the contemporary art world. Metamodernism. What is that, like internet memes or something?

Also… I want to learn about criticism and art theory. I’ll read essays and try to understand it. I could become that pretentious art nerd… also it would be good to have some knowledge in my field of study. I’m also interested in installation as well!

Ceramics: I want to get good at wheelthrowing and make vessels. Sculptural vessels! Also want to learn more about glazing and what kind of stuff I can do with that. Im interested in how I can utilize the glaze like paint. In ceramics I primarily want to mix the functional and the decorative, to create an object where there is some level of interactivity.

Drawing: I am taking a drawing class this semester so hmm… I’m mainly interested in lines… I love linework. Swirly, organic forms that are dreamy. There is a surrealism assignment so I’m pretty excited. In drawing I want to focus on bringing some kind of painterly, interesting mark making elements to it— Like build my work around that. In drawing I just want to show off and make cool stuff. Just excited for drawing class tbh.

General art goals:

- paint during summer. Oh my god it is a time to be productive and I really hope I paint. I AM A PAINTER AFTER ALL?

- be financially stable :)

I hope for another good year in art. This year will be especially special because it’s my first year fully starting it (without any doubts (questionable))

[duchessvondelulu]

It was nice to sleep in. I was still tired from yesterday. We got ourselves together and went downstairs. A tuk tuk driver tried to scam us into going to the less than stellar local floating market. He lied about the opening time of the wholesale market we were going to. It opened at 7 am and he said it opened at 11. He got indignant when I insisted it opened at 7. He the was like, yeah oh ok, THAT market is open. He knew we weren’t falling for it so he moved on. We walked up the street and grabbed a taxi. It dropped us off at the Pratunam Market. It was crazy! Just stalls and stalls, row by row. It was a maze of stores. Some rows dead ended. Some rows just look liked they did but if you turned you would get to another row. It just went on and on.

The main row was wide enough for a car to squeeze through, so you had to pay attention for cars. So rows were only wide enough for people and motorbikes. You could hear them slowly winding through the people. The people were the craziest. Most of them had huge bags of carts filled with clothing they were going to sell in other places. The more you bought from a shop, the cheaper each item was. There were lots of knockoffs. Mostly really cheaply made. But if you searched hard enough you could find better quality fakes. It was overwhelming after a little bit, so we walked towards the sunlight and made our way out. We hadn’t had breakfast yet, so we looked for food. Denali saw an escalator to an inside market that said it had a food court. It too was a strange sight. Lots of clothes and stuff. I hate to use the word stuff, but that’s the best way to describe it. There was a little but of everything. Shoes, trinkets, pots, rope, you name it, you could find it. The food court was in the third floor surrounded by shops and kiosks. In order to pay, you had to exchange your money for food coupons. I’ve never seen anything like that except at an arcade. Tokens in the place of quarters.

Denali gets the coupons and we pick where we want to eat. There is a decent choice. Arabic, Indian, Thai, Americanized, vegetarian, etc. With that choice came all of those smells, mixed together. I got my standard chicken fried rice from the Arabic place. I was lured in by the photos of samosas, they weren’t ready yet. Denali got green curry rice from an eatery on the other side of the food court. We both enjoyed our food and marveled at the environment. I don’t want to call it strange, just different. We had some food coupons left over so we got some ice cream. I couldn’t decide between cookies and cream or rainbow so we got a scoop of each.

The cookies and cream tasted like a bunch of an Oreo filling with a few cookies crumbled in it. The ice cream wasn’t really creamy. The rainbow tastes better but we couldn’t quite place the flavor. But we finally figured it out. It was birthday cake! We were sharing back and forth until we got to the cone, I took the rainbow. Right as I was biting into the bottom I dropped it on the table. Denali and laughed and he went and got another cone. But by that time I was full so he ate it all. We went back downstairs took a short look around. I found some elephant pants and we made our way outside. We hopped in a taxi, it was time for the Grand Palace. The taxi let us off a block away of the closer side. A woman tried to scam us into going somewhere else first because it was too crowed right now. We told her we were going anyway. She got mad as usual. We walked to security, passed through, to the main gate. Today we got in with no problems, Denali’s legs were covered.

Like the woman said, it was very crowded. It felt like Disneyland but there were no rides. We walked around and saw the sights. It was amazing. I can’t think of a better word. Photos do it no justice. Almost everything was tiled. Some with tiny mirrors and gold, some with ceramic flowers. Everything was glittering in the sunlight. It was awe inspiring.

The Wat with the little emerald buddha was just incredible. They won’t let you take photos of the emerald Buddha or inside where it’s located. It sits high on top of an impressive shrine. All around on the walls are paintings like in the Sistine Chapel. Im not a good enough wordsmith to conjure up the words that will do it justice. If you ever get a chance, you should go. After leaving the Grand Place. We walked to Wat Pho, to the see the giant reclining buddha. On the map it looked like a small jaunt but in reality it was far. By the time we got there I didn’t even want to go in. I gave myself a 5 minute sitting/ water break and then we made our way in. The reclining Buddha was enormous. I thought the one in the monkey cave was big. That one pales in comparison. There is an order of what you have to do while inside Wat Pho. You stop and take a picture of the head when you walk in.

Then walk to the middle where there is a place to get closer to the Buddha to take a shot of you and the head behind you.( There was a line here. It was not very long but people kept trying to cut, and the line kept making an uproar about it. It was very funny) After taking your picture you keep walking until you get to the end. You walk out the door and then left. You are greeted with a view of the feet, inlaid with what looked like pearl or abalone. It’s breathtaking. You can’t get a good photo of the feet because there is a mesh wire over the window. You then walk back into the wat, but this time behind the giant Buddha.

There are rows of metal pots. If you want, you can buy a bowl of coins to put in the bowls. It makes a constant clanging sound. (We wondered what it was when we were in the other side.) After you admire the back of the Buddha, you make your way out of the front of the Wat and then you realize just how much there is to see at Wat Pho. Disclaimer: after seeing all of these wats in the last few days, I’d become kind of jaded. But seeing all there is to see at Wat Pho brought me back to life. It is my absolute favorite Wat to date.

There were multi courtyards with rows of buddhas. Multiplicity of form is a beautiful thing. After gazing in wonder at one courtyard, you would walk through th a doorway into another courtyard with more buddhas, this time just bigger. If you looked to the left or the right, there were more courtyards with more buddhas. There were stone giants, there were spires of gold and spires covered with ceramic flowers. There is just no way to describe everything.

We thought we would only need a half hour or so at Wat Pho. We spent about two hours there. We could have spent more but it was time to get Denali’s suit. We got a taxi to The Factory, given a bottle of water and guided to an upstairs room. Not as posh as downstairs. There was a curtain, a couch, a mirror, and some suits hanging up. We waited for the suit to be brought in. I had a brief thought that we had sold ourselves into slavery, but then they brought in the suit. Denali tried it on and it fit nicely.

He picked out a free tie and the gentleman packed everything up. No one wanted to drive to Chinatown in rush hour but we finally convinced a taxi to take us to our hotel. We relaxed, got spring rolls, and called it a night

Bangkok day two… It was nice to sleep in. I was still tired from yesterday. We got ourselves together and went downstairs.

[isaacathom]

oh jeez, dude, how old are sonya and isaac. fuck. shit. piss. i never thought about this. how old are they. are they uni students? shit. fuck. yes? that sounds fun. also means i wouldnt have any clue how to write them. as in like, how they interact with uni. never been. ok, ive been to uni a few times for a few different things, ive even handed in my sisters thesis one time. never sat a class though, so its like. whats it like. whats happening. how do it woooorkkk.

i can write for vivian fine. probably kay and spencer too, since i see them as being similar in age to vivian. and if vivian is, ooh, 17, thats a yr 11. meaning kay and spencer are likely also yr 11s. maybe a lil younger than viv, but not by much.

so, SnI are uni students. how old? what degrees???? i cant remember if i thought about that or not. im positive i did. back when all of them were like, 15, im pretty sure i wrote down all their classes. shit, its not in the file. bugger. like, ok, they were theatre students. but thats more a hobby than ‘this is my career’, i think, especially given isaac’s asthma which heavily limits what they can actually do in a performance role. they can do recorded work, and they can do acting, but they cant really dance and they cant really sing. like, they can, more poetry recitation than song, which is cool, but its limiting. so if that HAD been their ambition, sorta off the table now.

jesus dude i wouldnt have a clue where i wouldve put this stuff. like, i feel like i wouldve written down these kids classes. with viv doing food tech, spencer doing ceramics, kay doing goddamn VET Horticulture (dammit kay), and then sonya and isaac do theatre, but there was more to it than that. like, sonya is sporty, she was doing PE. is that her career? like, to play AFLW or something? dunno. again, more hobby. w viv kay and spence they were all clearly like ‘this is my career’, vivs a waitress at a restaurant so shes already in food handling, kay does volunteer work around places and he maintains his homes garden and he does that Horticulture VET (he’s also probably in VCAL because gardening is a trade, yknow), Spencer sells her sculptures and is generally very artistic, so it makes sense. the FUCK do Sonya and Isaac do???? be gay??????? come on, me, you can do better

problem is that the two of them were never really developed beyond the fact they were gay theatre nerds who died together and now fight together with some good synergy, with isaac being a mage and sonya being a brawler. and isaac being selfless. woo. what ~depth~

havent found anything yet, except something about sonya doing gymnastics...... again, is that hobby? i feel like thats hobby. idk

ok! apparently sonya like soccer and basketball. hmmn. yea, sure. ‘shes pretty tall’ wait what. oh fuck. fuck i thought she was a short shit. oh fuck. aw shit. oh fuck shes like 6 foot isnt she, oh dear, ok, ok that changes things! yea, fuck it, she can play basketball. so if she in uni on scholarship? she could be, dont see why not! yea man, sonya plays bball. shes probably not on a team yet, so shes probably local, but the idea is that once she graduates she’ll get picked up ;)

and apparently isaac really was the theatre kid. yea. yea honestly, fuck it again, i like the idea anyway? its good fun. so sonyas in on sports, isaacs in on theatre. because of the physical limitations isaac has, they probably back up actual performance with technical ability. stage lights and stuff. that’d work. that way they could try their hand at performing, depending on what roles theyre able, but if they dont have roles they can be involved in production! nice, yea, that works fine.

sure. that worked. so how old are they? first year or second year degree? cause theyd be equal, neither took a gap year (or both did, but not one or other, ride together die together). so, what, 19-20? we’ll say theyre in second year, because that has some wiggle room for both me as a writer and them as character. still got some freedom. though i guess that depends on the degree. hmmn. might need to google that

also shit i gotta skedaddle this took way too long