#Potbelly Breakfast Hours
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I want a stoner enby to keep as my well-fed house pet.
Of course it wouldn't start that way; after numerous dates and them quitting their dead-end job it just kind of happened. But they don't need a job anymore. I provide for all their needs and desires, no matter how hedonistic they get. I'll enable them as they slowly lose their healthy routine. Slept in instead of going on their morning run? That's okay, I made them breakfast in bed. Got too high and couldn't go to the gym? It's no big deal. Relax on the couch, put on a movie, and I'll make them a snack.
They start waking up later, spend the day constantly high off their ass being a couch potato, staying up late taking bong rips and snacking while I sleep. Passing out on our bed with cookie crumbs and chocolate all over their hands and face. I wake up before them to find wrappers and empty plates on their nightstand.
They get lazier, asking me to put in a mini fridge by the TV in our bedroom so they don't have to go to the kitchen. They ask me to cancel their gym membership. They go from wearing cute coordinated loungewear to old tank tops and stained sweatpants. They let their hair get greasy. They smoke, toke, and eat as much as they can every day. Every evening I'll come home to a hotboxed house and them glued to the couch in a haze. Their eyes are glazed over and half-lidded. A blanket poorly disguises the hand that's playing with themself. Their other hand is preoccupied with a jelly donut.
On the weekends I feed them edibles and dab rips until they're so stoned they can't move and can barely speak. I keep feeding them edibles on an hourly basis to maintain their insane high for 48 hours. Of course I take care of them when they're baked out of their mind. I feed them their favorite munchies and make them plenty of hydrating drinks. They stay in bed all weekend, letting me feed and smoke them up.
It's been a few months since they moved in. My pothead is growing a little potbelly. Between increasing their capacity and being baked 24/7, their gut started to work with a mind of its own. They start to shuffle around in the middle of the night, making themselves a big meal when they should be sleeping. They order meals delivered during the day that could serve eight people as a meal for themselves. They said they needed to drink three pints of melted ben and jerry's ice cream to satisfy their cravings.
Their belly grows bigger, forming a blubbery ring of love handles above their soft rear. Since giving up physical activity altogether their body has become softer and weaker. Not to mention their intelligence slipping away from constant weed consumption and trashy tv and video games. They stop shaving their hair and opt to shower and change their outfit once every few days. I would often come home to the living room being a mess of food and drink containers. I come home and give them everything they desire from me. They're the perfect stoned potbellied pet.
#wg story#queer feedism#slob kink#weed intox#stoner feedee#intox feedism#weed kink#queer feeder#queer feedee#nb feedee#wg text#wg k!nk#feedee encouragement
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”touch too much”
It wasn't the first time, and I would be surprised if it wouldn't be the last, either.
At some point after dinner, Alex had passed out there on the couch with one arm up on the top of the cushions and his feet up on the arm. A few locks of his hair spread over his face and neck to make it look as though he had fallen asleep on the beach. He had undone his pants but he barely had a little belly poking up from his body; he eaten so much that evening that I was surprised that he hadn't passed out into a food coma an hour before.
I stood there at the recliner chair, right over Lou's head, whereby he had leaned it back and put his hands behind his head. All three of us had eaten our fair share of it all, but Alex had in particular. He rolled his head over the top of the pillow and parted his lips to give us a soft little groan: at least he was a clean eater and he had licked off all of the crumbs around the rim of his mouth and his fingers. But it was still so adorable to see him lounging there on his back, sound asleep, like that of a young boy who had eaten too much and fallen asleep at his grandparents' house during Hanukkah.
“You know at some point, he's gonna wake up and have the absolute worst indigestion,” Lou said in a low voice.
“I don't know, he was scarfing down a lot of veggies,” I recalled. “A lot of veggies as well as everything else. I do have plenty of antacids in the bathroom, though, just in case.”
“I still can't believe he ate the whole thing,” he chuckled. “I remember thinking at one point, 'where in the world did this come from?'”
“He really is a little piggy, he just doesn't want to admit it,” I pointed out. “I remember him once telling me that he'd get the worst munchies when he'd take an extra hit from a joint.”
“Well, well, well, that explains everything, now doesn't it?”
“Right? And apparently, it's carried over, too. Remember he was complaining earlier today about being so damn hungry that he could eat an entire buffet table?”
Lou snickered at that, and then he peered up at me with a mischievous look on his face.
“How could I forget?” But then he locked eyes with me, even with his head turned back all the way like that to look on at me.
“What're you thinking about?” I asked him.
“Thinking about going out and getting him a little 'present',” he replied with a wink.
“I'm gonna have to get something for breakfast tomorrow, though,” I told him with a shrug. “Knowing how he wakes up all famished and what have you.”
“Don't you have some stuff to make cinnamon rolls, though?”
“Yeah, but you know how he is, though,” I pointed out. “We could enjoy some rolls ourselves, but he's going to want more than that.” I lifted my gaze to his porky little belly: I couldn't explain how he could be such a big eater and not have a big protuding potbelly on him, but there he was, laying there on my couch with his little gut hanging out in the open.
“I'll make him a full English breakfast,” I suggested. “That'll not only fill him up but us, too.”
“English breakfast, that's got things like eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and a bunch of fruit, right?”
“Yeah. They also have black pudding along with it, but I don't have the gumption for that. I'll make us little Yorkshires instead.”
Lou then ran his fingers through his hair and gingerly stood to his feet, even though I knew an earthquake wouldn't wake Alex, let alone the squeaking of a leather chair. We slipped our shoes back on, and then I picked up the apartment key as well as my jacket from the spot next to the front door.
“You think he'll be okay by himself here?” Lou asked me in a low voice.
“Oh, yeah. There was another time he fell into a food coma like this, and he didn't wake up until I put a pot of coffee on. Lou, I'm not even kidding, I tried banging on a pot with a wooden spoon and he didn't budge.”
He chuckled at that as we headed on out to the cool night: a marine layer had come in for us, such that Lou huddled closer to me.
“I told you to wear a heavier jacket!” I declared as we reached the sidewalk and the mostly deserted street. We lived in the Bay Area, and yet the sidewalks rolled up at around seven o'clock in the evening. We kept on walking until we reached the supermarket doors, and I started thinking about what I wanted to make for the morning after. We had just eaten dinner, so I was already in no mood to see anything as all that appetizing. But it was for the day after, though: I had to keep on thinking ahead about it all.
Lou lingered back by the bread while I took my time at the produce. I chuckled to myself when I thought about Alex scarfing up all of that lush fruit and veggies that I had served for him: silly boy, doesn't he know that it still counts as overeating?
I picked up a small bunch of strawberries for a quick look to see if they were ripe enough. He sure loved his berries: the plumper and more ripe the berry, the plumper and more ripe the boy. I followed it up with some bananas, followed by blueberries and raspberries, and I was also eyeing the mint leaves and the gooseberries. We were looking at some hearty smoothies to go with our English breakfast in the morning when I noticed Lou had gone off somewhere. Probably to the bathrooms.
Nevertheless, I carried on with some milk and heavy cream, followed by bacon and breakfast sausage. I had plenty of eggs in my fridge, which meant I could make us some sunny side up eggs as well as the Yorkshire puddings; but if I remembered correctly, there were some beans and mushrooms to go with it all, too. Given it was Sunday, and the load was just starting to come in and the clerks were all in the back, I could pick out from the utter cornucopia before me without anyone getting in my way. When I doubled back to the produce section to look for any good-looking button mushrooms, I spotted Lou coming back to me with a sly little smirk on his face.
“What's up?” I asked him as I picked out a small bunch of mushrooms and put it in the basket.
“I was just in the bathroom,” he replied.
“But what's that look for?”
“I just got the dumbest idea,” he began again, that time in a lower voice.
“What's that?”
“When I was in the bathroom, I saw a hole in the wall of the stall next to me,” he said. “It looked fresh and clean, too, like whoever did that never had it fixed but it was cleaned, though. It got me thinking.”
I gaped at him.
“Oh, no, Lou, not here!” I hissed at him.
“It's Sunday, Eric. Sunday night, which means there's no one else here but us and the fresh new loads coming in for the night. It's a crazy idea, but I doubt anyone is going to walk in on us.”
“Elle's not here, either,” I muttered aloud, and my eyes wandered to the rest of the produce department, to which I found myself looking on at the bags of carrots on display, followed by the meat department before us.
“Besides, we haven't really had a moment together,” he confessed, much to my bewilderment.
“Lou... really?”
And he bowed his head and shyly nodded.
“I have to confess to you, Eric,” he continued, and I could tell that this was a big deal for him; “I do think about it from time to time. You and I are friends, but something like that shouldn't take anything away from our friendship.”
I swallowed at that, and I had no clue as to how to respond to him. This was all happening so quickly, perhaps more so than the whole thing with Alex because at least he and I eased into that, and I managed to wake something up in him.
“And I kind of feel bad for fessing that to you, too, simply because it feels like I'm putting pressure on you,” he continued in a single breath.
“No, no,” I promised him with a shake of my head, and I rested a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and locked eyes with me. “No, Lou. I promise you there's no pressure whatsoever. It's just... out of the blue, is all. But I probably should've known that you had some feelings for me, though...”
It felt so appropriate that I had to really fixate on whether or not I wanted it. I sighed through my nose and held the basket down by my side. We were alone in the market, and I had to think on my feet.
“Yeah, I think we can do a quick one,” I told him. “I have get some baked beans, and that's about it.”
“The beans can wait,” he assured me in a low voice.
“The beans can in fact wait,” I echoed him, and he led me back to the men's room, which smelled of lemons, which told me it was in fact clean in there. I set the basket down on the counter next to the sinks, and Lou gestured for me to take the stall on the right. I bowed in there and spotted it, the hole right next to the toilet paper rolls. It looked to be going the other way, which meant I was going to give myself to him.
I unzipped my pants and let them glide down my legs a bit. Even while standing up, I could see him bowing down below the hole to prepare himself. It was so strange to have it happen as is, but I knew that we would take our friendship to a different level. If anything, it could possibly add another dimension to it.
“Okay... hold still,” I told him in a hushed whisper; I dropped my shorts and revealed myself to him.
“I am holding still,” he assured me as he put his mouth up to the hole.
“Okay... I am putting my dick through the hole... can you see it?”
“I do, yeah,” he replied with a slight grunt.
“Okay... try it out.”
I bent my knees enough for him to see me all the way through the hole. I had to be careful not to move too much as I did have a ring of metal around my dick; I pressed my hands to the wall of the stall right before me as he put his lips around me. It was something that I never expected that I would like before, but he moved in as deep as he could even with the metallic wall right before his face and even with the fact that we couldn't see one another, either. I could still feel him, and I could still feel the edges of his teeth against my skin. Something about it all made my spine straighten up a bit more, and something about it made me think of Alex. The way that he would gorge himself and then he would be in such a tender enough spot to warrant something like this.
I was in the tender spot at that point. Lou was the one in control.
Lou was the one in control and I couldn't help but let myself relax to the very feeling of his lips, his teeth, and his tongue.
A metal wall between us and it was enough touch. It was more than enough. It was everything. It was everything I never believed I would ever imagine happening to me before.
Lou let go of me and coughed.
“Are you alright?” I asked him.
“Yeah. I was just... kind of gagging on you a bit.”
“Have a gag!” I declared as I pressed my body to the wall, just so could have more. His lips back on my flesh again and I wished I could see his face. I wished I could see him closing his eyes in utter bliss, and I wished he could see me giving my body up to him, my best friend.
I was coming fast and hard, even as I still tried to keep myself from scraping against the metal rim of the hole. I still scraped against it anyway, and it only made me rise more.
Lou let go of me again, and that time, I could hear something dripping onto the floor on the other side of the wall.
“They just cleaned, too!” he laughed, and I couldn't help but laugh as well. With my dick still out in the open, we both barreled out of the stalls and for the sinks.
“Wow,” he muttered, and he placed his hands on the brim of the sink basin next to my grocery basket.
“That was... that was something,” I breathed out as I reached for the paper towels at the dispenser. “Something I never thought I would like.”
“Then I'm glad we did that,” he confessed as he scrubbed his hands with that soft-smelling soap.
“Stupid idea wasn't so stupid after all,” I assured him with a smile, and I wiped myself down lest anyone ask any questions the next day.
Once we were cleaned up, I picked up the basket and we headed out of there and back to the corridor. It was right then I noticed the blush to his face: if any of the clerks asked, he had been on the toilet a bit too long.
“What'd you say you needed next, baked beans?” he asked me.
“Yeah. Baked beans for the boy with his bulging little belly out in the bodacious open.” And he laughed at that.
#kinktober#kinktober list#kinktober prompts#kink tag#kink tumblr#kinktober 2024#kinktober all year#fanfic#fanfiction#testament#testament fanfic#testament band#eric peterson#louie clemente#slash fic#slash fanfiction#blood & chocolate#blood and chocolate#also on ao3#writing#text
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the items from my recent work trip i'm going to claim reimbursement for, ranked & reviewed:
train fare from the hotel to o'hare - $3 to get from the loop to o'hare in about 45 minutes, the same amount of time it would have taken to drive (without the wait to get an uber or taxi). i support public transit.
parking at logan - but i don't think i green-line-to-red-line-to-silver-line support public transit (i also don't green-line-to-blue-line-to-airport-shuttle support it). $86 which is honestly reasonable for about 40 hours of parking. the sumner tunnel being closed is outside the purview of this review but if it weren't this would rank lower. accidentally parked on the roof during a heat advisory but got back home after dark so it kind of worked out, i think.
one night at a hotel in downtown chicago - hotel was nice enough but the building was about a hundred years old, which means the rooms were small. small enough that the tv was not opposite the bed, which you usually see in most normal hotels. small enough that the bathroom door had to be a double door, opening into the room. smaller rooms than the los angeles biltmore. appreciated that the conference room was above ground. catered food was good. paid $25 to check in early (??????) and this is called an upsell on the bill which i'm sure will make it real fun to justify. but also wouldn't have minded staying two nights. overall like $280 or so.
cab ride from o'hare to the hotel - this took about as long, if not a bit longer, than the train did. driver did not talk to me the entire time, which is a positive. views were uninspiring. $64
potbelly bacon egg and cheese breakfast sub - got this mainly because the line at dunkin was too long. that should've been a sign. $14 for this and an arizona iced tea, but the iced tea is the only thing i finished
items i'm not claiming reimbursement for because they are already paid for, but that i need to mention on the reimbursment form anyway, ranked & reviewed:
flight from chicago to boston: no one sat in the middle seat, so me and the guy sitting in the aisle seat got to spread out. my boss' boss sat two rows in front of me, but i pretended i didn't see her at all and she didn't make conversation with me on the plane or at either airport, which worked out because i was exhausted. read some le carre. got both pretzels and cookies from the flight attendant. could not smell the bathroom, despite being the same seat as below.
flight from boston to chicago: someone sat in the middle seat. flight was at like 8am and i closed my eyes for about an hour without falling asleep because it is a biological impossibility for me to sleep on a plane. opened my water bottle which lead to my water bottle spilling on my pants on account of the pressure difference. also read some le carre but not as much. could smell the bathroom.
items that i bought in and around my recent work trip but can't claim reimbursment for, ranked & reviewed:
hotel bar sazerac: love a sazerac, and this was a good one. i do not mind drinking at hotel bars when the bartenders are actually good at making drinks. i think if i'd ordered a margarita it would not have had much sugar in it. cannot reimburse because of alcohol on a federal grant
limes at wegman's: wegman's has pretty good produce. i needed the limes to make a baked chicken recipe (and a jack rose) on sunday night, both of which turned out alright. cannot reimburse because an item purchased to make food two days after i return is outside the purview of reimbursement for this trip.
iced tea at a o'hare: they only had green tea, but while i prefer black for an iced tea, green is a good change of pace. small size for $4.50 but that's airport pricing for you. cannot reimburse because both breakfast and lunch were provided, we have no reimbursement for snacks, and calling this dinner feels like a stretch.
qdoba burrito: order placed in the logan parking garage and picked up 20 minutes later. exactly as good, bad, and sad as i expected. the guy working there recognized me. won't reimburse because i don't want anyone to see my shame.
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Decofiremen: Soon Be the Dawning Days
@darknight-brightstar @zeitheist Every single one of my attempts to write pleasant holiday-oriented things ends up ass-deep in character dissection and plot exposition. @squad51goals @its-skadi
In this installment, we talk about seasons, changes, and things to celebrate.
December darkens the days, and sharpens the nights. There is frost every morning, and the sun is a pale consumptive, waking feebly and slipping weakly into evening. The potbelly stove in the dorm is always burning, always someone up in the night to tend it, every hour. The lads spend a productive few hours one off day re-arranging their beds, recaulking the windows, and hanging curtains. When Josiah asks what they are up to, they explain the lads at the ends of the rows have been getting cold in the night, and they are trying to fix it up so that either everyone is warm, or everyone is cold.
"You mind, Captain?" Jules Menlo asks. He and Bertram Cochrane have taken up the lead, since Antoine and Ellis left for the City. They are raw to it, but they are learning yet.
"Not at all, boys, carry on."
Josiah is pleased with them. Neat and natty rows of beds can go to hell, the lads are making a fine hearth for themselves. They make sure to vent it properly, and Lufty nods approvingly at their work - a house inside of a house, a canvas-flanked beast breathing and snoring in the wind-snipped nights. Josiah only scolds them once, when he catches Davey at three in the morning carrying wood in for the stove. Sure, he is wrapped up tight as a beetle in a sack of flour, but Josiah reminds them that he's just a boy, yet, and needs his rest.
Young Cleary had stumbled a while, the days after Antoine and Ellis were graduated. Eddy had given him a scorcher of a talk for forgetting to include Davey in the proceedings, and he deserved it. That responsibility is still so new and giddy to him - where now, he can remember his own graduation, and think well on it, and not always be so bitter - and he had left the boy bereft. Fool that he is. Even Silky would've cuffed him for it.
My true friend Silky, he writes, one glassy morning when the sun had lost the strength to lift the frost from the grass, you would not believe me or maybe you would. Do you remember the day the bell sounded for us, at breakfast? In the good cheer of sending my lads to the city, I left out the boy who needs us most, our young Cleary. Your god, my friend, would smote me off the earth. It was a terrible mistake, for I frightened him so badly. I had to set him down later in the day and explain all the proceedings and the ceremony. I am not yet sure he forgives me. I am not sure I deserve it. Here he is, a boy who has already lost one family, and I am to take another from him. You can be sure Eddy let me have it.
yours irresponsibly, Birchy
In those following days, after Antoine and Ellis depart on the train from Troy, his heart aches, something like a tooth you want to forget, something a body can't escape from. The long hallway is there in his dreams, in the boy's dreams, and now he hears the piano, and the distant laughter. He smells the books in the study. When he wakes, he feels the far-off gaze of a man much his senior, cool-eyed but in such a way as a lake when the summer days grow taut about the city streets. An expectant look, a waiting. Far off down that hallway, as far from the boy now as the Bronx for him, as the dorm he once sweat out his sear in. He would want to look away, as the village folks and the oakbellies look at his scars and his brace.
He knows that hallway, and that's just the trouble, for young Cleary has walked it alone, trailing his fingers along the green wallpaper, and Josiah, trembling for the thought of the beam waiting in the ceiling, has not followed. Coward, he thinks. To let the child walk his hallway and stumble, smoke-wrecked, to his wide lawn, alone. A one-legged and half-hearted coward. Davey looks at him askance often in those following days - doesn't come to read with him or practice his Latin, doesn't follow the lads out on their drills no matter how they coax him. He walks down the pathway past the brambles and into the woods, his too-large coat down past his knees and his collar up so high it leaves just his dark curls tumbling out in the sharp wind, and when he comes in for dinner, he is quiet and small among the lads.
It is one of those long, weary twilights when the winter rattles like dry bones, and his leg aches. He is fixing the ledger, making notes, and Silky's reply is on the edge of the desk. Davey slips in so quietly he only hears it with his sear, so startlingly that Josiah leaves a blot on the end of a row.
"Capper?"
He puts his pen down and smiles like he imagines Silky would at an Antoine or an Ellis. Truth to say, he has missed the boy, even the sometimes frantic, fledgling winging of his sear. He is far too young to grieve such an emptiness as that long, black hallway and the smoke-torn sky.
"May I ask a question?"
Times, the boy's genteel raising surfaces, softly like the wave on the shore. Times, as now, he holds his cap in his hands as if he's in a holy place, and his eyes are the shyness of moss on a shadowed ledge.
"Course. Always."
"Eddy said firemen don't take holidays."
"Come sit. What're you onto?"
"It's almost Dawning Days, that's all..."
"Oh, ghosts above, Davey - " Josiah has to laugh. " - no, that's not how Eddy meant it. He only meant that fires and accidents and all our work, it can happen any time."
Davey sits in one of the clutter of chairs in Josiah's office, kicking his legs, the gesture of a younger boy, an apologetic sort of gesture.
"I don't mean to laugh, young Cleary, but we do know the Dawning Days."
From the sundown on solstice to daybreak on New Year's - the time of spirits, the time of the seasons shifting, the time to do good and remember that the sun is only resting for a grand debut. The oakbellies throw a grand to-do at New Year's, all the officers invited to come at their most festive. He has not gone - and the oakbellies are likely to be glad of it, he figures, for he would not cut such a charming figure in his full dress and a tin of polish on his leg. They would, as they did at his promotion, shuffle and swallow hotly above their stiff collars. He would probably stand the whole night out of pride and spend the week after in bed. Perhaps it would be worth it.
"Do you have a party?"
"As many as we can."
"And lights?"
"As many as the sills will hold. The lights and the cups left out for the ghosts. Eddy has probably got another little tree to plant - you know, that stand of maple by the stables, that's his handiwork."
Davey is looking as delighted as Josiah has ever seen him. His eyes are younger, now. He is more the boy that he must have been in golden days, before his long dark hallway.
"And you already know Bertram and his fiddle, and save us all, we've heard the lads sing."
"They taught me the fireman's song." Davey grips the chair, and then pauses, as if lost of a sudden. "Lyddie would've liked that song, I suppose. Mother scolded her because she called the music our teacher brought her 'musty old tunes'."
From far away, in the marrow of his bones, Josiah feels the soft carpet of the parlor under his shoes. Dark walnut bookshelves and rich, salmon-colored wallpaper embossed with an intricate pattern, the sort of thing a child would run their fingers over. The books are less a rainbow than a late-summer forest, greens and smatterings of red and orange. The girl playing the piano, with the bow in her hair, likes to spin cleverly from the plodding strains of an old mass to the bright chirps of ragtime and dance. The brother laughs.
The oak floors in their dormitory had what seemed to be a century of wax and polish creating glistening currents in the low lamplight. They could have greased the bedsprings with a gallon of lard per man and the damned things would've screamed like witches every time a man so much as thought of rolling over. A cold night outside, and a warm hearth within, each coat and helmet hung on its hook, each woolen blanket tucked neatly around each mattress corner. The brothers are singing and the brothers are laughing.
"Antoine wrote me a letter," Davey says, quietly. "He says he got his sear." Davey bites his lip. "He says everybody looked after him, and his captain Jack Prince gave him a pocketwatch. Does it hurt so much, always?"
"Every man is different. It's a hard hand of days. But we look after each other." "I don't remember, exactly. I hurt so long, I was in bed and the lady wanted to call the doctor, I think. I hurt so long, and then - then it just felt like - " Davey leans forward, puts his arms on the desk and his head in his arms and sighs. Muffled, he whispers, "I felt like - "
Like wandering, Josiah thinks. That strange stillness when the fever breaks, before you come around to your mates watching over you, before you pull yourself out of your bed weak and stunned and brand-new on foal's legs. A fresh and open field, the shaded place where the last dollop of snow lives nearly into June.
"I know," Josiah murmurs, and lays his hand - his scarred hand - on young Cleary's shoulder. "I do know, son, I do."
"I wished Antoine didn't have to hurt that way. Or Ellis. Or Jules or Betram." "I dunno what it was like - " Josiah sighs. " - but for me, I had my mates around, and my pal, we got it together. I never would've got through it, without him."
"Thomas."
Josiah starts.
"Sorry, Capper. I read it on the letter. Eddy talked about him once, too."
"Silky."
"Capper?"
"Silky. That's what we called Thomas."
"Why?"
"I don't remember, really."
"What's he like?"
"Oh," Josiah says. "I'll tell you. You'd like him a sight better than me - for one thing, he's got two entire good legs and he could take you down to the fish pond. Second - "
Davey is kicking his legs again, scuffing the toes of his boots on the wooden floor.
"Well, I'll tell you. The day I met him, here at Wynantskill, he very nearly ran me down with a horse, a big old dapple grey gelding we called Chubby..."
Davey leans on his hands.
Silky's letter, half-unfolded, is by his elbow. I never really got the brothers' whole forgiveness bit, it says, but I do reckon it's a little bit like when you turn over the ash of a building, and you find a little green thing growing underneath.
#decofire#decofiremen#yes I realize that's an 11 day span#and yes sometimes that's an eleven day food alcohol and music bender#but you also get plants
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7.3.2020
morning: 256.0 lbs
night: 257.4 lbs
breakfast: redbull - 0 cal; few bites of baklava - 150 (idk for a fact so i'm gonna round up to 200)
lunch: half uptown salad w no dressing from potbelly - 190 cal
dinner: potbelly half skinny blta - 355 cal
after dinner snack: laxatives
today's thoughts: i was dreading going into work because i knew my coworker was both bringing me these pastries from her culture and also wanted to get potbelly for lunch. i feel disgusting because of how much i ate today and last night. i don't know if my complex's gym is open yet but if it is i'm gonna go tonight. otherwise, i'm gonna have to figure out how to exercise without my boyfriend becoming suspicious. i'm also pretty grateful for the two day weekend because that means i can take laxatives tonight and not have to worry about being near a bathroom. also, every time i eat now i immediately feel like i have to go to the toilet. is that normal?
i ended up working out for about an hour while this man tried to talk to me about it the entire time. he asked if i was trying to lose weight or gain muscle and i tried to be vague asf because ik i'm notorious for giving away too much information also why r u asking me so much info. i just did like 10 minutes on an upward incline treadmill and then i worked on the machines for the rest of the time (trying to figure out how to do them- it's been a while). my boyfriend came by just as i was about to get started on the rest of my workout so i didn't do that yet but i'm going to before i go to sleep since it's like squats and pushups and whatnot and i can do them in my apt.
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Paint Me A Picture
Paint Me A Picture
Grace stared uncomprehending at the elderly woman standing behind the peeling, tan counter-top. However, she quickly regained her senses after glimpsing herself in the stranger’s large, square cut glasses. “How much for just the paint?” she asked, her calloused, stained fingers tightening around the meager tip money she earned from her shift at the diner.
“Um...well, let’s see. It will be 34.99 for the whole color set.” Mary, according to the magnetic tag attached to her green vest, smiled sympathetically. “Now, don’t you move. I think I might just have a coupon around here somewhere!” Mary opened and closed several drawers behind her before pulling out a pack of discount tickets.
“I���ll take the paint...just the paint, for now.” Grace blew out the breath she was holding, before handing over all the money in her hand. She was still a few cents shy of the total, but both women pretended not to notice. “Thank you...um, Mary.” Her gratitude was real but fleeting. Her mind was already wandering to the night ahead.
“You’re welcome. I didn’t get your name,” Mary replied, but the girl was already on the other side of the clear door.
Grace held her purchase close to her chest, the tubes clicking together inside the flimsy plastic bag. Just three blocks later and she was walking up the uneven steps to her apartment. Her key slid in without resistance and she opened the door to the dark, empty space. After flipping the switch, the light blinked several times before illuminating the familiar living room slash dining room. It was bare of furniture, but littered with unfinished canvas paintings, ripped up charcoal sketches, pencil shavings and mugs full of dirty water.
The microwave beeps for the third time before Grace finally pulls out tonight’s dinner. She ate greasy fried chicken from directly out of the take away container. She regrets not opting for the baked rigatoni from work. However, taking a large swig from the cheap bottle of whiskey made her meal go down easier. Sitting criss cross on the floor, her now nearly empty, glass bottle and her full, untouched tubes of colors lay in front of her. She had fruitlessly searched for a scrap of clean, white paper. How could she paint? Perhaps she could pick up an extra shift this week. Try to smile more, like her red faced, potbellied manager suggested. Her fingers stretched as if stiff from lack of movement. She needed to paint tonight, or find more whiskey.
Her head whipped behind her at the sharp sound of her neighbor slamming a door shut. Or at least she hoped it was the door. She didn’t like to stick her nose in other people’s business. She liked to keep to herself, the only trait she shared with her mother, Temperance. Though some people thought they shared a lot of physical attributes too. This was a kind of compliment for Grace and an insult to Temperance.
Peering at the thin, white wall that separated apartment number 3 from 4, Grace noticed how bare it looked. Almost like one of her canvases. But if she painted it, wouldn’t she get in some kind of trouble? It could always be painted white again, she reasoned.
Standing upright, Grace gathered her supplies and refilled a mug with fresh water from the sink. She started mixing colors and sweeping her brush one way and then the other. It was always like this for her. Never knowing the outcome until she stopped, or ran out of paint or space.
There was a sting in her right side that caused her to shift and wake from her spot on the hard floor. Pushing herself up, Grace found a paintbrush snapped in half which had left a long scratch on her arm. Her blood had turned the bristles a reddish-brown. Her head was hurting as well. The thought that she should consider giving up drinking left as quickly as it came.
Once she had committed to waking, Grace saw herself staring back. She had painted a life-sized self-portrait. It was like looking into a mirror. She was unsure if this was her best or worst piece.
She pulled her eyes away when she heard the loud, unforgiving beeping from her alarm. It was morning and she needed to hurry or else be late for work. The breakfast shift was the worst. Employees and customers tended to be tired and short on patience and money. Not to mention hungover.
No time to change, let alone clean up. Grace brushed her teeth with the last remainder of whiskey. She’d need more soon. “Well, I guess this is goodbye for now.” Grace laughed, suddenly feeling self-conscious. A quick glance at her cheap, plastic wristwatch and she was rushing out the door. It was dark when she finally returned, picking up a second shift but still short on tips. She must try to make an effort with her appearance, or at least her attitude.
Walking straight to the fridge and finding it lacking, Grace grabs a stale bag of chips for dinner. She listens to two messages, both debt collectors, and startles to a stop at the sight in front of her. She forgot, almost, about her mural.
It was eerie how precisely the image matched, from the frizzy, murky brown hair down to her scuffed trainers. She looked homeless, though she had a home. No wonder she never got any good tips. What a mess, she thought. “I’m going to paint over you when I get paid. I’m not a fan of roommates.” Grace’s laughter echoed in the empty room.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. No, wait she can breathe but it feels more like drowning. She chokes on short, shallow sips of air that barely reach her lungs before she spits it back out. Something heavy is pressing her down deep, an unmovable weight over her entire body. It is dark, but her eyes start to adjust and she can see shapes and shadows. Her body is slick with a cold sweat, making goosebumps form and fine hairs stand up. She can’t move her head, but her eyes flick back and forth. After a moment she finds another pair of dark eyes staring back at her before she jerks fully awake and mobile. Her whole body hasn’t felt this tense and sore since her art modeling days when she would have to keep still for hours at a time. Back when she was confident in her mind and body, in the knowledge that she was helping other artists, and that she was, in those moments, art itself.
Her breath slowed as the adrenaline started to fade but she didn’t know if she could sleep. Grasping at the lamp sitting on her makeshift nightstand, all at once the room became too bright and hurt her eyes. It’s been a long time since she had a nightmare. Maybe it’s because she didn’t have a drink tonight. She would head to the store tomorrow. It was her only vice, beside ink and paper.
She spent the rest of the night drifting in and out of sleep until her alarm went off. How was she supposed to go back to work? She couldn’t call out, even if she didn’t feel well.. She needed the money. She pulled the sleeve of her coat from an unstable stack of half-completed paintings. As she reached for her purse, Grace saw movement in her peripheral. Her heart thudded in her chest as she remembered her nightmare. It was herself, or rather her image. It seemed to her off center but then she didn’t trust herself. In truth she barely remembered that night. Her nerves were shot.
Today was a good day, well as good as it could get for someone like her. A drunk couple over tipped her at the restaurant which allowed Grace to buy takeout and liquor. She was almost happy, walking briskly up the cracked concrete steps to apartment number 3. Closing the door and walking straight to the kitchen for an actual glass and metal fork. Grace often borrowed food from work but it was rare that she was able to buy something she wanted. She was warm and full from dinner, before she saw it. Before she realized that her image was missing from the painting. It was impossible.
Did someone do this? Did she do this but not remember? She was sure that she saw the painting this morning, before work and now it’s gone. Grace poured herself a glass. And then a second and third before facing the empty wall once again. What should she do? Move? She had nowhere else to go. Call the police? And tell them what exactly, that she disappeared. They’d send her to some sort of hospital but then maybe she belonged there.
After a few minutes she finally noticed something. At the edge of the wall, there were a few smears of brown paint, the exact same shade as her hair. Grace came closer and reached out until her hand touched the plaster. BAM! She almost fell at the sharp snap of a door closing. It must be her neighbor again. Her heart banged against her chest as she pressed her hand against the wall again. It felt odd, almost warm like someone’s body heat after they’ve been sitting a while. But then the heating vent was directly above, so maybe that explained it. Though Grace’s heart refused to slow it’s steady beat.
For the first time in years, Grace wished for her mother. She could call her but she didn’t know what she would say to her. Temperance would not have the capacity to believe such a story. She only read memoirs and was far from the imaginative, creative type. The only paints she used were cosmetics and even then she always chose the wrong colors for her canvas. It’s one of the many reasons that they only see each on holiday. What would her mother see if she could look at her now? Would she recognize her own daughter?
Grace went to the bathroom and turned on the water, twisting the knob so that it was scalding hot. She was tired and had been drinking more than usual. That’s why she’s seeing things. Grace’s body turned pink from the soap scrub and hot water. It was a small relief when her feet touched the cool tiles, though the rest of the small room was filled with steam making her feel sticky. Her hand swiped across the mirror above her sink, wiping away a small circle of moisture. She did not see her reflection. Only the towel rack behind her.
Grace locked her bedroom door for the first time since she moved into this apartment and lay down with the lamplight still on. Her last thought before she fell asleep was that she could not find her shadow on the wall.
After Grace was reported missing, news articles and bloggers would accuse Temperance of being coldhearted. For trying to profit off of her daughter’s artwork. Temperance rather thought it was the buyers who wanted to own these drawings and paintings, even the unfinished ones, that were devoid of feeling. Grace had disappeared but her debt remained. Unpaid rent and overdue student loans were passed to her. Even Grace’s former classmates, her so-called friends, had started selling their sketches and stories. It hurt to know that her daughter’s naked body was hanging on some stranger's wall. Temperance would find it in herself to forgive these things if only she could see her daughter. Not her paintings or her likeness, but Grace in the flesh.
A year later and people still come in to buy the same paint set that the girl bought before she went missing. Mary shakes her head and does not offer any of them a coupon. In fact, she breathes a little easier when they are on the other side of the glass door.
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5, 7, 10, Ike and Ranulf, Ike over feeds his cute cat boy and teases him about it constantly
5) Stuffing/feeding/etc.7) Feeder/feedee relationship 10) Humiliation
This is nowhere near as long as it deserves to be for how long its been sitting here, but I hope this is still enjoyable! Also, I apologize if this isn’t really “humiliation”, I just have a hard time seeing Ike do anything more than very gentle teasing.
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After leaving Tellius, and despite the traveling they did, things had calmed down significantly for Ike and Ranulf. They didn’t have to answer to anybody; no kings, no employers. No more wars to slowly eat away at them. Any work they did was purely of their own choice, and at this point, both of them tended towards avoiding anything that required fighting – they helped small villages in their fields or rebuilding things in town, simple jobs that paid just enough or got them room and board for their stay.
It was vastly different from what they both knew back in Tellius, but it was nice. Life slowed down from the frantic pace it had been for years. They got to discover new places, new people. As Ranulf often joked, they got to stop and smell the roses – sometimes quite literally, and it was refreshing to be able to do something so quiet and gentle.
Of course, as life slowed down, so did they. They got to enjoy things like a lazy day of nothing much at all, and considering they both had pretty big appetites, food was also added onto that list of simple pleasures that they were getting to indulge in.
However, it was pretty clear who was being affected by the more sedentary lifestyle the two had found themselves enjoying.
While Ike could pack away more food than Ranulf, he tended to remain more active because he genuinely enjoyed doing so. He still practised his swordplay, did the bulk of many of the odd jobs they picked up when needed – which tended to be a lot of manual labor – and kept up a semi-regular routine for himself. Ranulf, on the other hand, had embraced the lazy cat lifestyle with open arms. He still pulled his own weight, of course, but Ike didn’t mind doing more work on his own if it meant that the Cat got to relax. And, speaking of weight, Ranulf certainly had a bit more of that to go around these days.
Lazy mornings saw ranulf still in bed for some hours after Ike had already gotten up, triangular ears twitching at the noises of the day as he awoke. Ike would get them something to eat from whatever was available where they’d stopped for a time. Honestly, most of their funds seemed to go towards food and meals, as Ike always ended up going more than a little overboard. Not that it ever went to waste between the two of them. They’d have their breakfast, chatting on and off; plans for the day, where they were headed next, or if they needed to look around for a little work depending on how their gold was holding up. As the two conversed, they ate – leisurely plowing through the spread of food laid out before them.
The two would eat their fill, but usually have some left over. Considering they didn’t stay anywhere permanently, it wasn’t easy to keep any extras before they went bad, so, even if they were full, they kept going. More often than not, Ike pushed the extra food onto Ranulf. The Cat would put up some superficial complaints about being too full, but Ike caught that glint in his eyes; the greedy look of someone who’d gotten comfortable with being spoiled. And Ike was all too happy to oblige him.
Ranulf had always been handsome to him – beautiful, in many lights – but his attraction had admittedly deepened once the Laguz had started to put on weight. Cats were always so small and lithe, made up of flexible, lean muscles. It suited them well in combat, but being outside of battle? Ike enjoyed the feel of something soft, pliant; something he could dig fingers into, gently or rough. While shifted, Ranulf had a natural softness to him on account of his fur, especially on his belly. But now? It was all over, shifted or not. His face was round and cherubic, a rosy tint in his cheeks even if he had been doing anything. Thin limbs had filled out gradually, little by little; his upper arms weren’t all that big, not even as large as Ike’s, but they had a delightful jiggle to them now that always grabbed Ike’s attention. His pecs had puffed up and were quickly growing into soft breasts, resting lightly above the cute, pudgy potbelly he’d developed. The real change had come lower, Ranulf’s hips, ass and thighs all ballooning outwardly into an incredible pear shape.
Ike loved it, actually had trouble keeping his hands off his partner, and Ranulf knew it.
On days that they could just have to themselves, which was quite a few now, they often stayed in bed for most of the day, exploring each other. Ike would often close his eyes, using his hands and mouth to travel over the soft swells and valleys of the Cat. Tongue and teeth searching out stiff nipples and the plush flesh that he could sink his face into. Rough fingers and palms changing up from ghosting touches to squeezing and full on grabs at pliant flesh. And Ranulf lapped up the attention without a second thought, even encouraging Ike to take things a step further.
Ike wasn’t very good at proper teasing. That was really more Ranulf’s area. Still, he’d do his best to pepper it in, murmuring in his lover’s ear about what a big, lazy house cat he’s turned into, reinforcing the image by feeding him more and more as they continued. That soft little belly Ranulf had would round out in a warm dome, inching out further as Ike pushed more food onto him – just a little more of his favorites, one more bite of this or that, better not let all this extra food go to waste, right?
By the end of it all, the Cat was always a hot, stuffed mess. He’d moan and groan, ears tucked down and tail lazily wrapped about Ike’s waist or arm, but despite his melodramatic complaining, he’d always be smirking smugly like the fat cat he was; preening at himself and his growing weight.
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Mr. Squish 35 and Teeny Neener 53!
35. What time do they eat breakfast?Mr. Squish *used* to be on a diet because he is a ginormous squish (I am all for body positivity, even in cats, but he was legit developing health issues) so he used to get fed 4 times a day in small amounts. But due to job complications, now they are free-fed and he eats breakfast whenever he wants. Which is all the time. *sigh*53. Worst thing they’ve destroyed?The Teeny Neener is actually pretty dainty and agile, she’s not too destructive (though she does love eating plastic). Does it count if I go to flop into bed after a 14 hour day and find barf on my sheets? x.x The really destructive one is Mr, Squish, though. He doesn't even mean to be, he just thinks he’s a lot smaller than he is. So he’ll find a spot that looks comfy, say on my desk. And he sits. Then he settles. Then he stretches out. And his ever-expanding mass just...displaces everything onto the floor. He is a potbellied Godzilla, the Incredible Bulk. (Also he has enormous velociraptor claws and unlike his mama he is *not* dainty about using them, so he has punctured many, many things)
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Journey to the Waiting Room
It's early, way too early. I reach my arm out, fumbling around trying to find my phone. Its bright, way too bright but I can see the numbers on my screen, 3:04 AM. All I want is to turn back over in my nice warm flannel sheets and my silk pillowcase. I packed my bag the night before, all I have to do is get dressed and grab it but it negates the fact, I don’t want to go. The car is cold, I’m shivering in the darkness while I watch the street lamps of 355 come and go.
Walking into the airport is the same every time, we head over to the terminal and check-in. I am used to it, people bustle around me, complaining about the hours or talking enthusiastically about their upcoming trip. But I feel like those businessmen you see, they aren’t here for vacation or to visit someone but for an appointment or requirement for their job. That's me, I am here so I can see my doctor that's nearly 1000 miles away from home. I wear comfortable but not too casual clothes, shoes that I can get on and off easily even if I have a TSA precheck. For some reason, I wear a belt, because a minor inconvenience now is better than a day of pants sagging. Of course, our gate is at the very end, because why would anything be convenient? But before we can camp out at our terminal, my mom needs her caffeine. The Potbelly line is bustling at 4:30 in the morning, but the rules of society and time go out the window when at the airport. The airport is one of the few places where it is acceptable to drink in the morning or have breakfast at midnight. Mom’s got her caffeine and we make the trek to our gate, we walk fast-moving in between the other future passengers. I am a little annoyed because why can’t people just walk faster?! It's like the world revolves around them, and who cares if other people need to walk past, lets's just block this whole area.
We make it to the gate, and there are already a dozen or so people here, even though the plane doesn’t board for a little over an hour. Missing your flight is an expensive mistake to make. I found a section with outlets, this is where we will camp out. The chairs are uncomfortable, but I don’t want to do anything that may intrude on or impede the people around me. It's boring, I can’t listen to music or watch tv because of my hearing aids. I don’t want to read my book because I still have two flights and more waiting time to deal with. It's too early for me to be able to chat with my friends, so I just scroll through Reddit and Instagram, looking for something worthwhile to focus on.
I can hear the gate attendant announce our flight will be boarding soon and I want to spring up into line. Southwest is free for all when it comes to seats, but there is an order for boarding the plane. We are in the B group, which isn’t too bad but not quite where I want to be. I watch the A group of people with envy, these are the people who pay more or check-in as soon as possible. They begin calling the B group and I rush to the line, my ticket says B04, which means I win the opportunity of getting on just that much earlier than the hordes of people behind me.
I always go for the aisle seat, whether it be for a mixture of convenience and space or just the ability to get on and off that more quickly. My mom is in the aisle across from me, now it's a waiting game. Who will I be spending the next 2 hours next to? Maybe the younger man with a scraggly beard, or the woman dressed up far too early in the morning, or perhaps the older gentlemen in a nice sweater. A lucky winner is a middle-aged man in a soft blue polo and khaki slacks.
I don’t like flying, I’m not scared of it or have some subliminal issue, it's just not an enjoyable experience. I am confined to my seat with the exception of the bathroom, with no leg room, and no real entertainment. I can’t sleep on planes so I’m left to read and scrolling on my phone some more.
The landing…wasn’t great but I am glad to be off the plane. I don’t like all the eyes on me, watching me exit the walkway. I wonder where they are flying to, but I’m too anxious to turn around and look at the screen. Mom catches up to me, finally an opportunity to turn behind me and see the screen. Omaha, interesting.
Everything I said about the last airport being a trek is a lie, the Boston Logan Airport is big. The tunnel runs underneath the runway to get to the exit. This has to be at least half a mile of just walking, not even to leave, just to get to the main section. I see the Fjallraven poster, it greets me once again with a shiny smile. We can’t get to the bus without making a pitstop at the restroom. I know by heart this routine, take the bus to the airport station for the blue line. Many people are with us waiting for the train, suitcases, and bags at their feet. I never know if they are coming home or just visiting like me. The guy in the bruins hat is definitely a local but everyone else could be either. It is so fascinating the number of people I just see out here living their lives, and how different it is from mine.
End of the line, Bowdoin station, we are back. Surfacing up and taking in the surroundings always brings a smile. The sidewalk is still bumpy old cobblestone and the smell is still a city. But this has become my second home, I know it's ins and out. On the journey down the hill we pass Anna’s Taqueria, the place we always stop at at least once whenever we are here. It has become a part of our tradition, their chicken quesadilla is to die for, the melted cheese and delicious abundance of chicken wrapped in the tortilla. I am already excited, but I have to wait several hours, so I just have to bide my time.
At the end of the hill I can see the looming buildings that makeup Massachusetts General Hospital, it's massive. But when I’m inside it feels so much smaller. We take the same route every time, walk past the hotel that always has a different name, and past the parking garage, we never use. Into a lobby, we never wait in, just straight to the elevators to the second floor. This floor confuses me, because it has security and my clinic on it, along with Imaging. A weird combo to put together in my opinion. Walking into the small waiting room for the Oral and Maxillofacial department, only 3 people are waiting, they stare. The receptionist recognizes me, she may not remember my name or anything about me, but I can see the look in her eyes. She has seen me at least once a year for the past 7 years, many patients come and go but I stay.
We are early, the appointment isn’t until 1 but it's just a bit after 10, not enough time to do anything and still make it to the appointment. So we camp out in the corner, where we know the outlets are and we wait. The nurses and assistants come out and call patients back, and some of them wave to me. They know me, they have seen me at some of my lowest times and never at my best. Sunshine and Aimee, those are the names of my Doctor's assistants, they are so sweet and kind and I truly appreciate them for everything they do and put up with. But it's not my time yet, so I just wave and smile and go back to enjoying my book. I’ll be back there soon enough.
Being called back is a relief, a window that brings a change of scenery. It's just more waiting again but it's better, more private with the occasional passerby. These appointments are the worst, the flock of doctors takes up the majority of the space in this tiny exam room. All eyes are on me, obviously, but it's still annoying. They poke around my face, take pictures, and present something on the computer. Hearing 6 grown men talk about how they’re gonna saw my jaw into pieces and rebuild it using metal is never an enjoyable experience but not even the first time it happened to me. My mom is watching the screen intently and I just watch the doctors watching THE doctor. Right now it doesn’t phase me, it never does, but I know in 6 months when I come back, I’ll be terrified. It's easy for me to pretend now but it's coming, closer and closer, the date creeping around the Boston street corner.
That’s a future Gabby problem.
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if youre my girlfriend you cant read this because itll spoil things
aaaaaaaaa the proposal is on saturday, so i have less than a week and thats super exciting, but it was exciting when i had just 2 weeks up until that week started. every week, just generally, feels slow at the beginning and by the end it's hard to believe its already time for another one. its especially hard right now when i keep getting excited to have just X more weeks to go and then monday, tuesday, even wednesday night at work im like "eughhghg this week is taking FOREVER." it also winds me up to have stuff i need to do, stuff i know all the details to do, and simply have to wait- things like packing to go home. i cant just pack my toothbrush, i have to brush my teeth this week. i cant assemble the bouquet or buy breakfast ingredients for her because the flowers will wilt and itd be silly to take sour cream with me 140 miles over state lines when she lives 5 minutes from the store. i cant cut my hair now or the fuzzy texture will have softened by saturday. i cant paint my nails, covering up their flaky weakness so they look okay next to her professional manicure, because theres still a week for my polish to chip. instead of doing anything i have to keep walking myself through the itinerary i have for the final 48 hours- various bodily grooming tasks, when ill get on the first train, when ill get on the second, how much time will i have to kill at potbelly, pick up those groceries, assess the pantry and see if i need any other groceries, go to the other store, get the flowers, run home and arrange them myself, change into the outfit, go get her or- more torturously- wait for nails to be done, 43 minutes of walking not including shopping. museum, hope the restaurant isnt too crowded, i vibe out dessert day-of, home, breakfast in the morning, spa day, lunch, thank you gifts. is the museum silly? i have booked tickets already. im gonna be too nervous to eat that day. i have to practice when i get home so i can open the box correctly- i dont want to show her the ring upside down. im gonna cry in my mask and get all snotty so im proposing just before we leave the place, that way i can get out there and take off my mask and blow my nose. i have a full 24 hours of proposal planned for 6 days from now and im still not sure whether its enough, but i have to watch myself to make sure its not too much. i have never cooked bacon before. i hope the ring still fits. monday will be busy and over before i know it. tuesday will be slow but maybe this will encourage me to go to sleep sooner. wednesday will be almost as fast as monday but i will have to work with someone im not excited to see. thursday i will be humming with energy, another slow schedule, but i will be cutting my hair and packing more and more, although it is unlikely i will be able to give up my backpack until after my evening class. friday i will have breakfast, perhaps lunch, do the last of my packing, and my brother will pick me up on his was home. i will do laundry. on saturday i will wake up, i will wash, i will put on one outfit that i do not intent to keep on. i will make sure i have the ring. i will have the ring. i will leave at 10:30. i will have ridden two trains by 12:45. i will be there. further events are outlined above.
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Hitting the Books: How a radio telescope cost this West Virginia town its modernity
Deep in the heart of Appalachia, modern science and America's bucolic past meet at a unique crossroad of scientific discovery and luddite lifestyles. The Quiet Zone, by journalist Stephen Kurczy, is the story of a sleepy small town that hosts the Green Bank radio telescope. But the presence of this installation comes at a price: due to the telescope's exceeding sensitivity, virtually every device and appliance that emits radio waves, Wi-Fi signals, or microwave radiation is banned for square miles around. That means that Green Bank, West Virginia has about as much tech today as it did in the 1950's (maybe even a little less) — and some people very much like it that way. But not everybody. In the excerpt below, Pocahontas County attorney, Robert Martin, recounts the challenges of attempting to modernize the region without loosing a horde of gentrifiers upon it as well.
Harper Collins
Excerpted from the book THE QUIET ZONE: Unraveling the Mystery of a Town Suspended in Silence by Stephen Kurczy. Copyright © 2021 by Stephen Kurczy. From Dey Street Books, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. Reprinted by permission.
For every electrosensitive who wanted radio quiet, there were probably one hundred residents who wanted WiFi and cell service, and they elected the county’s officials. In early 2018, the Pocahontas County Commission passed a resolution in support of cell service throughout the county, a challenge to the very notion of a Quiet Zone. The commission assigned its attorney, Robert Martin, to contact all major telecommunications providers asking them to invest in Pocahontas.
“I’m doing my level best to get another company in here,” Martin told me in the spring of 2018. He’d invited me to his house to discuss the new cell service ordinance, and we were swigging Bud Lights at his kitchen table.
“How many cell companies have you written to?” I asked.
“All of them,” he said. “I promised the companies that we’ll get everybody in the damn county to sign up with them. I’ll sign up first! . . . I wrote a letter to everybody and said, ‘We have shit for cellphone service here, we want you to come in here, we’ll partner with you, we’ll help you however we can. Come in here.’”
At our feet were two boxers and a basset hound. In the adjacent mudroom was a 250-pound Vietnamese potbellied pig named Pig, who was snoring. Pig knew how to open the front door and pull a blanket over himself. “I’m the true image of West Virginia, aren’t I?” Martin laughed. “I got a pig living in the house.” Despite his home literally being a pigsty, Martin was always the best dressed at county meetings, usually wearing tight designer jeans, leather boots, and a crisp dress shirt, top buttons undone and a few chest hairs curling out. A blustery guy, Martin was once jailed in Marlinton for contempt of court for arguing with a circuit judge. He had a history of getting into fights at West Virginia University football games. For years, he’d also operated a hotel in Belize, paying “tens of thousands of dollars in bribes” and putting the payments on his tax returns so the U.S. government could see the corruption he was dealing with (even if he was admitting to violating the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act). Martin came across as a dogged lawyer who knew how to get things done. And he wanted cell service.
“You seen that commercial saying Verizon has more coverage than anyone else?” he asked me. “Pause and look at it real closely, and you’ll see right where Pocahontas County is because almost the entire Eastern Seaboard is all yellow [signifying cell coverage] and right there in southeastern West Virginia there’s this hunk about this big—it’s Poca-fucking-hontas County. I swear to God. Right fucking there we are on Verizon’s commercials.”
Martin knew well what connectivity was like outside the Quiet Zone. He had earned his law degree from West Virginia University in 1979, married a girl from Marlinton, and started his career in Pocahontas County before becoming a well-heeled insurance defense lawyer in Charleston. He’d gotten his first cellphone in 1986—it was the size of a beer bottle, with a three-foot-long antenna, and it went to bed with him every night. That attachment ended in 2012 when he moved back to Pocahontas, where he only carried an iPhone so he could listen to music in his truck. I asked if he was concerned about the impact of cell service on the electrosensitives.
“Wackos that are afraid of their brains getting fried and all that?” he responded. “Yeah, I know about them.”
“They see Green Bank as a haven,” I said.
“So? So?” He said he wasn’t going to let the electrosensitives keep Pocahontas “behind the curve” for cell service.
“But I’m here because you’re behind the curve,” I said. “That makes this place unique.”
“You think we want to deal with stone knives and axes for the rest of our existence? You’re like these fucking people who move in here and don’t want it to change, that it? We have people who have moved here in the last five to ten years and they don’t want anything to change. They’ve ‘discovered’ Pocahontas County and now nothing can change. Well, fuck, that ain’t the way of the world. We have limitations because of the observatory, because of our topography, because of our insignificant population. But we need to do what we can as government entities to make things available to people.”
“Of course,” Martin added, the cell service would have to comply with the Quiet Zone.
“We believe in the observatory, we don’t want to fuck with them,” he said. “Right now, as you and I are sitting here bullshitting, they’re up there looking for fucking E.T. And I want to give them every opportunity to do that. But I’ve got emergency services I’ve got to render in this county.”
In addition to trying to bring in cell service, Martin was assisting the county’s emergency services director, Michael O’Brien, to improve communications. The 911 center in Marlinton had difficulty broadcasting any emergency radio communications toward the northern end of the county, where Green Bank was located. O’Brien found a partial solution by installing an internet-controlled radio system just north of Green Bank in the town of Durbin, but it had minimal range and failed altogether when internet or electricity went down. Pocahontas was also one of the only counties in the state unable to adopt a “smart radio system” that integrated radios with smartphones.
On the off chance that someone made an emergency 911 call from one of the county’s few pockets of limited cell service, authorities had an especially hard time pinpointing the person’s location. “We had a dispatcher spend two and a half hours on the phone one night with a lady that was trapped in her car in a creek,” O’Brien told me. “She didn’t know where she was or how she got there. We were just keeping her calm while we sent the department to look in all the areas that had cell service.”
ACCORDING TO DELOIT TE, a 10 percent increase in mobile penetration increases total factor productivity—a key component of economic growth modeling—by 4.2 percentage points over the long run. In Pocahontas, businesspeople like Kenneth “Buster” Varner felt they needed all the help they could get to keep the county’s economy puttering along, which meant bringing in cell service.
I first met Varner in early 2017, while eating breakfast at the counter at Station 2. A heavy, jowly man, he had leaned over and asked, “Do you think the gravy is too salty?” As we shoveled down heaping plates of biscuits and sausage gravy, he told me about his various businesses. Aside from owning Station 2, he operated a half dozen enterprises involved in logging, excavation, towing, septic pumping, and auto repair. He was also a fire chief. I told him that I imagined a lot of headaches trying to manage all those things within the restrictions of the Quiet Zone.
“You have to realize that we never had cellphone service when everybody else had it, so it wasn’t anything to us,” Varner said. “It’d be more convenient, of course, if it was so you could use your cellphones all the time. But it’s a unique place to live where you don’t have them, and we take a little pride in that.” He noted how the observatory provided jobs and shared its resources, such as lending one of its diesel generators to a funeral home during a recent power outage. “That to me means a lot,” Varner said. “And having the largest telescope in the world out your back door, that’s a pretty neat conversation piece.”
“People can get ahold of me the old-fashioned way,” he added. “Call me on the landline or come look for me.”
Spending more time with Varner, however, I realized that he was hardly a Luddite. When we met again months later in his cluttered office, I found it hard to keep his attention. He kept glancing down at his iPhone to check texts and alerts he was receiving over WiFi. When he took a call, I was left to stare at a poster of a busty woman in a red bikini and firefighter helmet. When he finally put down the iPhone, I told him I was confused. Hadn’t he said he took pride in not using a cellphone?
“I thought it was rude to have a smartphone,” Varner said of his “old” perspective, apparently from just a few months earlier. “I do a lot of business on that phone, more than I ever thought in my wildest dreams that I would do.” I asked if he could ever go back to living without one. “Wouldn’t want to. It’s so handy.”
Varner had an AT&T data plan. He used Siri. He wished all his employees and volunteer firefighters could always be connected through smartphones. Instead, because of the Quiet Zone, he’d invested more than $30,000 in a specially approved radio repeater system to allow his workers to communicate via low-band radio. “I don’t want the observatory to close and for people to lose their jobs,” he said, “but it’d be more convenient for everybody.”
from Mike Granich https://www.engadget.com/hitting-the-books-the-quiet-zone-stephen-kurczy-harper-collins-153030420.html?src=rss
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The High School Game Part 14
Here we go, hope you’ll like it !! As I said, the chapter in under the cut :)
Shirley DAY 104 Monday
Strangely, on Sunday, the young girl recieved a lot of message teasing about how abnormal she and her family was. She did not understood why, and she could not ask Dan, who was absent. Sam was not really aware of this, but promised to be with here on Monday, just in case. Also, they arrived together at the high school, and despite feeling all the eyes glancing at her, she was reassured by her boyfriend presence. However, Finn came to them when they reached the class.
"Hey, Shirley ! How dare you come here while you brother is a fucking freak ?" he asked.
She frowned, surprised. What the hell is he talking about ? Can't he let me in peace ? All around, their schoolmates were laughing, probably aware of something she did not knew.
"Come on Shirley ! Tell us how it is to live with a fucking gay ?"
"What ? What the fuck are you saying ?" she angrily asked.
The girl was stunned. Where did he found such an idiotic idea ?
"You don't know Lady B ? Please ! Everybody has this photo where he’s kissing another boy. Your brother, besides being fat, is gay ! He loves dick !"
They all laughed. Sam, as surprised as her, was unable to say anything. I can't believe this moron. My brother doesn’t love dick, fucking asshole. Go to hell. She clenched her fists and grumbled :
"Shut the fuck up Finn, you are lying."
"I'm not ! We all have the photo ! By he way, I wonder if he already had a sodomy ? Did he liked ?"
She felt tears in her eyes. This motherfucker was lying. He definitely was.
"What the hell is happening here ?" shouted Raphaël while arriving. "What are you doing guys ?"
"Making fun of Shirley and her dick-lover brother dude !" explained Finn.
The blond girl was not prepared to heard Raphaël's jokes. His laugh was the last thing she needed. Everything is his fault after all. This fucking devil humiliated her again. She could see Gregory, in stitches, as Finn, as Jessy. They all did what Raphaël asked. Enraged, completely mad and despaired, she rushed him. She gave him a kick in his balls, and started to beat him. She felt someone caught her, but she only was able to yell. I hate you ! I hate you all ! Two strongs arms pulled her back, and she was brought to the director's office in no time. I hate you ! I hate you all !
"She threatened him last Friday, yes. And she never hid her hate for him."
Shirley gave a pitiful look at Barbara. The class delegate and her was in Mr. Fisher's office. And she's telling everything is my fault. The blond girl knew this would happen. She was in trouble, now.
"I think she developed a rancor, and she decided he was respondible for all her sorrows. That's why she attacked him, despite he was only arriving, and innocent. She did not know how to react against Finn's jokes and just rushed her fictional ennemy."
Seriously... Anyway, her parents would never forgive her. Even Dan would be ashamed of this reaction. But to be honest, I hope this asshole is emasculated now.
"We can't tolerate this kind of behaviour, Shirley." stated Mr. Fisher. "Raphaël’s a nice boy, working hard and friendly with everyone. He did not deserve this punishment. I'll speak to your parents, but I'm thinking about an expelled from school."
"Mister, please." interrupted Barbara. "Shirley had issues in her family. And she always was an emotional girl, listenning to her heart. I'm sure she regrets her attitude and her actions. Be nice, an explusion is too much. Some hours of detention would be enough, I guess."
Mr. Fisher nodded. As for her, Shirley did not care. She did not regret. And she felt too depressed. Why Finn and the others made fun of her brother ? He was so nice and sweet ! He’s not a fucking dick-lover or whatever they said.
"Go out, girls." ordered Mr. Fisher.
Shirley followed Barbara in the corridor. She glimpsed Sam, waiting for her not far. However, her class delegate hold her back.
"In case you care, Shirley, I was convinced you deserved this expelling. I protected you because Raphaël asked me to do this. I told you, this war is pointless and dangerous. Be smart, and gave up, with him as with Gregory or whoever you offended. Nevertheless, I will always be behind you, watching for the smallest error from you."
"I fucking don't care, Barbara." retorted the blond girl.
This evening, Shirley went home feeling depressed and pathetic. Raphaël did not left the nurse's office for the whole day (he was acting, however they would have call his parents) and everyone had stared at her. But at least, no one tried to tease her. Sam did his best to support her, but she was too sad. At home so, she was reaching her bedroom when she heard a weird noise from Dan's room. She knocked, curious. During a while, she only heard him moving, and then he shouted :
"Come in !"
The girl opened the door and entered. His brother, sat onto his bed, glanced at her. He worn his pajamas, which was weird at 19:00, and she saw a lot of wrapping lying around. By the look of his belly, round and distended, he ate the whole day. Anyway, she was not interested by his tummy, tonight.
"How are you bro ?" she asked. "People told me some weird rumour about ya today."
"What did they said ?" he replied, skipping her first question.
"Well, they said you're gay. But I know it's wrong, and I told them it was wrong, because you're not."
Dan lower his eyes. She felt the sadness took possession of him.
"Shirley... I don't know how to say it but... well... I am gay. That's not a lie."
She opened her eyes wide. No. No way. I just hit Raphaël to defend you.
"You know, being gay is not a sickness. I'm the same brother you always knew. I'm not different. We are still siblings. It's just my taste, that's all."
"Do you realise I went in the director's office and diced with expulsion because of this ?"
"I'm sorry, but..."
"Sorry ?! That can't be possible. You're not gay, that's not funny. What mum and dad will think ? And our sisters ? And what about our reputation ? Everyone will tease me now ! They just forgot me, and now, they will humiliate me everyday."
"I can ask Raphaël to protect you." whispered Dan with a dying tone.
"I don't give a fuck about Raphaël. He will throw you like a smelly sock, you know ? Please, tell everyone you're not gay ! Think about me. Please."
Her brother looked at her, and she saw a part of him disapear. He was crushed.
"I thought...." he mumbled poignantly. "I thought you would understand and be comprehensive about all this stuff... I was wrong. Please, get out of here sis', I need to be alone."
She stood up, crying, and left the room.
Gregory DAY 105 Thuesday
With a discreet moan, the young lad ate his last donut, satisfied. Despite his belly was already full from his sumptuous breakfast (bacon, scrambled egg, sausage, bread and milk) he had bought some donuts. Anyway, he was not bloated, only repleted. My consumption of energy is bigger now... Plus, he was especially satisfied since yesterday. Dan, Shirley's brother, just made his coming-out through a photo where he was kissing another man. Finn and the others had made a lot of fun with that, humiliating the blond girl. And this one blew a fuse, making a spectacle of herself. Plus, she hit Raphaël... It was so good. Gregroy took his can and drank, smiling about the irony of this situation. He finished quickly, burped and then entered in the schoolyard. He headed towards Finn and some teammates, but Kim, the new girl, hailed him. What is the matter now ? He barely spoke with her since her arrival. She was chubby, and not his taste, but maybe she could be useful. After all, she was here for three days now.
"Hi Gregory." she started. "Can I call you Greg by the way ?"
He silently nodded.
"Good, thanks. Well, can I ask you somethin' ?"
Again, he nodded (he was holding back a belch).
"I wonder why everyone call Shirley Lady Bellies ?"
He smiled. This nickname was so well-chosen, in light of Sam overweight. His fat tummy was the proof of her vice.
"Buuurp... well sorry. Shirley had a interest in... well-fed boys. She is kinda like a fat chaser, or whatever."
Kim raised her eyesbrown.
"Oh, I see. It's weird and kinda creepy... She did not know how it is hard to be fat, or what ?" she asked.
Indeed, being quite chubby herself, the newcomer had probably have been suffering from bullying during her schooling. However, Gregory did not care.
"Tell me Greg, why aren’t you captain ? You look perfect for the role... Is it because of Mister Perfect Raphaël ?"
"Yes it is." he was surprised by her tone. "Why ?"
"Man, I hate people like him and Shirley, who have perfect body and just took advange of it. Tell me if you want help in order to ridicule them, I'm in."
The young lad smiled. The newcomer was definitely interesting.
This afternoon, during gymclass, Greg felt stronger than ever (thanks to his constant snacking and energy drinks which gave him strengh). He finished 3rd on the running, behind Raphaël and another teammate uninteresting. And I wasn't to the max... I'm the best now... Nevertheless, he felt quite hungry. His belly gurgled. Sam, who was in the shower (Shirley was in detention today and tomorrow, and he came for exercise) next to him, smiled.
"Seems like you need some supply."
"Hell yes. I'm hungry everytime, I dunno why."
It was true. Despite eating a large breakfast, constant snacking donuts and eating then two meals at once at lunch, Gregory still felt hungry.
"I think you're doing a growth spurt and you need to bulk up." stated Sam.
Bulk up. Gaining mass muscle. Yeah, he had a point. Gregory was certainly bulking-up. It explained the whole thing. Because he was not fat. He smiled to his ex-partner. The boy, naked for his shower, revealed his round belly. It was rather a potbelly now. The constant eating, larges meals and lazy life he had chose took a toll on his body. And his gut supported the most of it. It was squishy, soft, jiggling with every move. Gregory stared for a while, smiling. He became a fucking fat cow. His pecs was history now, and he had two little man-boobs over his producting paunch. His arms and legs were slightly rounder, and his face hid a burgeonning double chin. I'm not like him. I have a fast metabolism, and I'm training every day. Yeah, I'm bulking up, for sure.
Liam DAY 105 Thuesday – 106 Wednesday
"Yeah, she was completely mad ! She kicked him in the balls !"
The lad was talking to Nate on the phone and telling him Shirley's last performance. This girl was crazy.
"Raphaël must be enraged !"
Liam took some chips, gulped them and replied :
"Not at all dude ! He went to the nurse's office, and that's all. Today, he was acting like if nothing happened. He didn’t even blame her !"
The goalkeeper was laid down onto his bed while snacking and talking. (Okay, that was unheatlhy, but teenagers are unheatlhy, remember ?).
"Well, Raphaël always was weird. You know my point, he's a mutant."
Liam laughed. They both were convinced of this. (Seriously convinced, no joke. Raphaël was certainly a mutant).
"Anyway dude, how is going Jessy's fattening ?" asked Nate.
"Slowly." answered the goalkeeper. "But I'm working on it. She's unaware of my intentions, and it's slowly effective."
Kim was his aim. Well, not Kim, but a physic like Kim's one for his actual girlfriend. (Anyway, he had not spoken with Kim yet, he was too shy.)
"Sounds good buddy. Are you doing everything Shirley told you to ?"
"Yes."
Lie. Well, half-lie. His friend taught him to constantly provide food for Jessy, during the whole day. Passive eating was, according to her, the best way to gain weight. But often, Liam ate half of his supplies before gave it to Jessy. (Yes, gluttony was his guilty pleasure, so what ?). Consequently, he often finished the day full, as much as her, maybe more.
"Okay, good. My mom call me for diner." informed Nate. "See ya ! Good luck with all this mess. And please, do not fear Kilian, I'm sure he is a sweet man."
"See ya. I'll do my best."
Liam hung up. (He told Nate his meeting with Kilian, and how creepy his schoolmate was. Seriously, who had a witch as mother, and a mafiosi as father ?). Looking through the window, he glimpsed Gregory and Thomas (Raphaël's brother) running. The young captain (because he was captain of the 10th grade team, obviously) was far ahead of the supporting striker of the 11th grade. They are brave... It was 20:00, and Liam was too busy doing nothing for training. (Yes, doing nothing was a great part of his life, but honestly, it was a great part of everybody's life). He did not exercise that much : gym class plus soccer. It was largely enough, and the nurse told him he was in good shape.
"Brother ! Time for diner ! Did you do your homework ?!"
Damnit, Chloe please. As an echo, his mother repeated :
"Son ! Time for diner ! Did you do your homework ?!"
He sighed. Being the only old man (his father left 10 years ago and his 3yo brother was not a grown man yet) in this family was hard. Really hard.
The next day, he did his morning workout being dozy. (Okay, morning workout because he was late and ran to reach the high school on time, but after all, this is a traning, isn't it ?). Once in biology class, he took a break to catch his breath again. Sat next to him, Raphaël smiled.
"Morning run ?" he asked softly.
"Yeah morning run."
(Knowing the team captain did a full running training every morning, this was a private and ironic joke). As always, it was time for a practical work, and Liam worked with his blond friend on a dissection.
"Shirley is watching us." whispered suddenly Raphaël. "Do not turn back."
"Why the hell is she doing this ?"
"Well, you're her friend, you must be more informed than I'm, but... I think she hates me and blames me for her brother coming out."
"What, that's senseless. I don't even understand why she blames someone."
To be honest, Liam did not care about gay or lesbian people. They made a choice, and he respected this. Their lives, their tastes. As long as nobody raped him (yes, Liam was an extreme boy) he was fine wih everybody's feelings. Suddenly, Kim walked near to us and dropped her dissected mouse on Raphaël shirt. She yelled :
"Oh my god ! I'm sorry ! Really, I'm sorry !"
Liam heard someone laugh, but he did not have time before Kim, trying to clean, fall forward. She tried to grasp something (like Raphaël's pants... Yes, Liam saw she tried to grip his pants). But failed and crashed against his captain, giving him a head-butt in the balls. This time, Gregory laughed so loud everybody could hear him, but the others were stunned. Well... please Raph' don't be mad... She just fell. Liam helped her to stand up while his captain headed slowly towards the door. He was walking like a penguin, but no one laughed (except Gregory, but Liam understood a long time ago this boy did not have brain).
"I'm really sorry." begged Kim. "I did not mean to hurt you ! I'm sorry."
Raphaël glanced at her. His cold voice made the whole class shiver. Even the professor, Mrs. Tran, stepped back.
"This is nothing, Kim. You just fell, do not worry." he said. "I'm going to the nurse's office. Liam, would you take my stuff when the lesson end, please ?"
The goalkeeper nodded. Maybe Raphaël was a mutant, but he was also awesome. Reacting like this ? It was a real and good attitude. That's why he is our captain and the most popular boy, after all...
Shirley DAY 106 Wednesday
Exactly like yesterday, the girl went to the detention room. This is a waste of time... This morning, Raphaël get kicked on the balls a second time, but she did not found that funny. She saw Kim,working her pratical with Gregory. They planned this shit together, for sure. And Shirley hated probably more Gregory than Raphaël. She sat in the class and glanced Kilian. The lad was here too, like yesterday. He was so discreet she thought he was part of the furniture. But I don't know why he is here... Sam tried to come, but the director understood their plan and told him he would be expelled. So she was alone with her strange schoolmate. Having nothing to do, she turned towards him.
"What are you doing here Kilian ?" she asked.
The boy, hid by his never-ending hood, stopped reading his book.
"I'm waiting. I can't go home too early, so I'm waiting here. The director agreed."
"Why ? You could be at the gymclass, or whatever ? Why stay here, in detention ?"
She could not understand. He was so weird...
"Well... I'm not sure I want to tell you."
"For the first time since we know each other, you reeled more than three words off. I guess you're trusting me."
"I'm not." he replied. "I'm offended by you, that's different."
What ? Why ? Again, someone blamed her. Could the world leave her ?
"I'm gay." he mumbled. "Like your brother."
"My brother is not..."
"He is !" interrupted Kilian. "You see, you're like the others. Being gay don't mean we are different, Shirley. Why denying the truth ? You're playing Raphaël's game exactly like Finn, Gregory and the others !"
"I don't get it. I'm not like those assholes."
She was surprised by his vehemence. And how the fuck did he know the game ?
"Come on Shirley ! You're saying your brother is not gay. He told you he is different, and you denied this difference, exactly like Finn, Tobias, Gregory, or even Sam at start denied your difference."
She opened her mouth, but did not reply.
"You know what ? I can guess everything you thought. You feared people's reaction. Your feared teasing. You were afraid for your reputation. For your family reaction. You were frightened they would not understand Dan's choice. You even asked him to deny his taste, in order to protect you. Am I wrong ?"
Shirley shook her head. She exactly did that.
"But have you, even once, put yourself in your borther's place ? He asked for you support, I'm sure he did. And you just threw him like a smelly sock. Gregory and you are not really differents, Shirley."
"How..." she was stunned by his logic. "How did you know all of this ?"
She felt pathetic. Kilian was true. She acted like a monster, and blamed Raphaël to hide her own frustration.
"I'm not talking much about me, as you would expect, but your situation hurt me personally. My father beat me since the day I did my coming out. My two older brothers call me the dick-lover, and they beat me too. My mother blames me for every single problem. My entire neigborhood hate me. I'm bullied every morning and every night. I can't bring friends home, and I can't play sports. I can't come to party. All of this only because my father fears that I will spread my sickness. My fucking sickness. Do you get it ? He fears my sickness."
Shirley never felt so heartbroken. How could I be so selfish ? She felt pity for Kilian. His plaster, black eyes... Everything made sense now. Even his skinny frame : he was probably ravenous. And she was doing the same to Dan. Exactly the same.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." he retorted. "You want to do something ? Find your brother and tell him how much you love him. It will be hard for you to get back his faith, but you still can. Your family isn’t dead yet."
She nodded. I want to do something for you too. You needs help Kilian, and I'm sorry for have been so blind.
"By the way." he added. "In case you care... Last year, I did a suicide attempt. Raphaël saved me. I will not tell you how, but he did."
Again she nodded. I'm so pathetic. I need to apologise... This night, she understood how lucky she was. And she promised herself to help Kilian, even if it meant ask the devil help. Because, maybe he was not the devil after all...
To be continued
Reals problems are here for Shirley ! While she pretend to fight the game, she’s also acting like her opponent... Will she be able to make up with Dan ? Meanwhile, Gregory found a partner in crime, and it’ll be epic... Is Liam the key to understand Raphaël, or is it Kilian ? Let’s see that soon !
#hsg#the high school game#My Story#part 14#Gregory and Kim#Dan's secret#Shirley vs Raphaël#WG#weight gain
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Summer Vacation 2019, Omaha, Denver & Beaver Creek/Vail, 7/7/19 – 7/14/19
By: Daddy, Ashlynn, Brianna, Scarlett & Felicity
As we sat in the hottub on our final night in the gorgeous mountain resort, we asked the kids, what’s your favorite vacation we’ve taken as a family? Runner up answers included Yellowstone, Disney and Chicago. But overwhelmingly, the consensus #1 family vacation the Blaniels have taken is the vacation we were currently on! Yep, Dyan and I struck vacation gold again! Here’s how we got to that consensus!
7/7/19
We were on the road by 6AM. We weren’t traveling in an airplane, train, RV, transit van, or even Dyan’s SUV. Nope, we rented a minivan for this excursion. We picked up the van a day earlier so that Dyan and I could get everything loaded up the day before. That made our morning departure so much easier – and less stressful!
Day one was a nice little drive down through Des Moines and over to Omaha. We arrived at lunch time and quickly made our way into Omaha’s Henry Doorly Zoo. We did a summer vacation here four years ago, and it was absolutely, hands down the coolest zoo we’ve ever been to.
So, when we told the kids this was our first stop on the summer roadtrip, they were super excited.
We explored the east side of the zoo, making sure we hit the Lied Jungle, Wild Kingdom Pavilion and Scott Aquarium.
Afterward, we made our way over the Hubbard Gorilla Valley, Orangutan Forest and the tiger and leopard habitat.
But the exhibit all the kids wanted to see was the African Safari area where you can view it from the air on the “Skyfari” Chairlift.
The rhinos, giraffes, zebras and lions were all in sight as we sailed across the park on the skyfari. The kids favorite animals were:
Ashlynn: Deerbra - half deer, half zebra
Brianna: Sharks
Scarlett: Fennec Fox
Felicity: Aligators
Aidan: Gorilla
All Kids: Baby Orangatan
Prior to leaving, take one guess what we ended up doing? GIFT SHOP! The kids wandered the gift shop picking up every stuffed animal in the store. Everybody wanted a stuffed animal, but nobody wanted to spend their own money. So, Dyan and I did what we always do which is let the kids save their money, and we bought everybody new furry friends!!
By late afternoon, the temps were sweltering. The kids needed some aquatic relief, so we headed back to the hotel and swam in the pool while deciding on dinner. Dyan and I were trying to find a fun pizza joint when the kids unanimously voted (while in the pool) on Pot Belly and Cold Stone Creamery. Both locations were less than a mile from our hotel. Kids for the win.
Later that evening, we all went swimming again, complete with a very intense game of Marco Polo.
7/8/19
The second consecutive morning, we were on the road by 6AM. Denver-BOUND! Outside of Omaha, Nebraska doesn’t have much to offer in terms of sightseeing, entertainment or roadside stops. So, the kids did blew through their iPad batteries in record time as Dyan did her best to keep the kids screens charged with the two chargers we brought. It was a carousel of iPhones and iPads rotating throughout the van.
We rolled into Denver shortly after 1PM. Made a quick lunch stop at Chipotle before taking the kids out to Red Rocks. There was scattered thundershowers in the area, but we timed it just right to miss most of the rain.
The kids played around in the amphitheater area and posed for pictures in the rock formations just outside of the concert venue.
The kids were adamant that they wanted to return here if Taylor Swift ever played a show at Red Rocks!
We then made the quick trip over to Golden, CO, to get checked into our hotel. The kids swam in the pool for about 20 minutes before a big storm blew up on us and forced us back to the room. No big deal! We needed to get ready for dinner anyway. After the rain had passed, we walked around the town of Golden checking out the gift shops and grabbing dinner at Woody’s. Woody’s is a great little restaurant Dyan and I discovered on our trip here in 2014. Delightful pizzas, and ice cold beer.
Dyan and Jake for the win! Of course, we followed up dinner with ice cream from Golden Sweets.
7/9/19
This was the big day. The day we’d finally reach our main destination for the summer vacation – VAIL, CO! After a quick breakfast at the hotel, we were back on the highway, heading into the mountains. The drive from Denver into the mountains never gets old. Full of mountainous scenery and old mining towns, the interstate whisks you up, up and away into the snow capped Rocky Mountains. About 45 minutes into the trip, we hit the Eisenhower Tunnel at Loveland Pass. Once through the tunnel, we began the long steep downgrade into the Summit County Valley. About 1/3rd of the way down the pass, the van started to vibrate a bit as I applied the brakes on the steep slope. Not thinking anything of it, I continued to brake to keep my speed in check. About half way down the pass , the van started shaking when I applied the brakes. Something wasn’t right – but I wasn’t sure what was going on. We continued. We passed a sign that said something like, be cautious, you aren’t to the bottom yet. At that exact moment, an overwhelming burning smell filled the cabin of the van. I looked at Dyan. We were both confused. I braked hard and the van shook almost violently as I pulled her over on the shoulder. The brakes were burning up. Apparently, I had been applying them a bit too much, a bit too often. Oops. We sat on the shoulder, Dyan and I questioning, “What do we do?”. Although neither of us said it, I know we were both imaging the worst case scenario where the van’s brakes went out leaving us with escalating speeds as we broke loose down the mountain desperately looking for one of those “Runaway Truck” ramps. Thank God it didn’t come to that…
After about 5 minutes, the smell began to subside and we got back on the road. The remainder of the drive through the mountains we much more uneventful now that I was aware of the touchy brakes in the minivan. We entered into the Vail Valley around 9AM. Vail Mountain is enormous as it towers over I-70. It certainly looked like it would be one heck of an adventure during the ski season. About 10 minutes past Vail is the town of Avon, which is at the base of Beaver Creek Ski Area – also a quaint resort tucked back in the mountains. Sticking out high above the trees was our massive European-chalet-style resort, the Westin Riverfront at Beaver Creek. The resort facility on it’s own would be spectacular, however, when you add in the setting of the snow capped mountains in all directions around it, the property is remarkably breathtaking. How are we so lucky to be able to stay in a place fit for a king?
We couldn’t check into the property yet, so we headed into the gated mountain village of Beaver Creek, a short 2 mile drive up into the mountains.
We browsed the gift shops and got a delicious fresh berry crepe at Rimini for us all to share – it didn’t last long. But at $14/crepe, this was not going to be our lunch spot!
Back at the resort, the valet attendant recommended the Avon Bakery & Deli for lunch. It was only a couple blocks away, so we could walk. When we stepped inside the restaurant we could immediately tell this was no regular Subway or Potbelly. Nope, it was ALL ORGANIC with bread straight out of the wheat field. It was the kind of place that frowns on Pepsi and Coca Cola products – instead they produce their own small batch craft colas (complete with paper straws). It’s definitely where the hippy, green, liberal, vegan, organic crowds congregate to “organize” and drink specialty coffee that is procured through community co-ops. And it was pretty chaotic. There was a long counter, like at a fast food joint. Behind the counter, there must have been a dozen people “working,” but really only 2 were actually doing anything. The rest appeared to be sluggishly coming down from their pot high from the night before – afterall, the weed is legal in Colorado! In front of the counter was a very small lobby, that was packed with loiterers who appeared to have skipped 1st grade when they learned the social skill called “line formation”. There were people standing everywhere in the small lobby, some waiting on food, others wondering whether it was their turn to order, a few waiting for tables and many snaking their way through the crowd to the pop refill station. Well, we entered like a tornado. Picture five hungry kids on the brink of hunger meltdowns amongst pretentious tree-huggers that probably don’t care for kids to begin with. Priceless.
And speaking of priceless, the menu was priceless too. We ordered 3 sandwich meals and 4 kids meals (flat meat hoagie w/ chips and a pop). The bill was $130. WHAT!?! Kid meals turned out to be $14 and adults were $20. For lunch meat! Should have stayed at the Crepe stand!
After lunch, we rendezvoused back at the Westin and spent a couple hours enjoying the pool and hot tub.
Our big event of the day was whitewater rafting on the Lower Eagle River. Late in the afternoon, we arrived at our river outfitter, Lakota Guides, where they quickly sized us for splash jackets, neoprene boots and helmets.
We had about a 20 minute bus ride down river to the Wolcott BLM Campground. Our group of about 40 people were divided up into 5 rafts. The Blaniels got their own raft!
The sunshine was sweltering, but the water temps were paralyzing. When we booked this excursion in February, Lakota Guides indicated this river began taming in early July, and by mid-late July would have so little water that rafting closes. The average water flow on the river is about 250cfs (cubic feet/second). In a typical spring/summer, we’d be hitting the tail end of the snow meltoff, which should run closer to 1,000cfs. But…..this winter/spring was a rarity in terms of how much snow Colorado Rockies got. With data going back to 1882, Colorado had 60% more snow this winter than an average season. In the middle of July, the peaks of the surrounding mountains were all snowcapped. And due to the extreme heat over the past couple of weeks, the snow melt had intensified. The waters were roaring down the mountains and flooding the normally trickling creeks and rivers. The current was running about 3,500cfs. The river was so ferocious, Lakota Guides called us a week earlier to inform us the minimum age requirement for our float was being increased from 6 years old to 9 years old. Whew, Brianna would barely squeak by with 3 months to spare!
We boarded the raft with our guide, Byron. Byron guided for many years on the Colorado River but has been retired from guiding for a couple years. However, when the Lower Eagle River flooded in the past few weeks, and the rapids gained national attention due to the extreme runoff, he jumped out of retirement for the chance to guide on this intense stretch of river.
The first 10 minutes of the float were relatively benign – a good stretch to get acclimated to the raft and paddle. The water was ice cold as it was the product of melted mountian snowpack a mere 12 hours earlier. Byron encouraged some playful splashing. Brrr.
As we proceeded down river, the rapids got more intense. Not sure it was the vertical drop in the stream as much as how long the rapids were strewn out. We were ripping from one rapid to the next with no real break in between. It was awesome. Unfortunately for me, I seemed to endure the brunt of the rapids. Sitting opposite of the guide, the front right corner of the raft seemed to meet every rapid head on, soaking me in the icy water.
For the second straight year/vacation, the kids did as little as possible to actually help get the raft in position to take on the waves. Instead of paddling, they were screeching with enjoyment as they splashed each other and rode bull on the front of the raft. We had struck vacation gold.
As if the day couldn’t get any better, later in the evening we drove back up to Beaver Creek where they were showing a movie under the stars at the base of the ski hill. We spread out blankets and brought snacks.
By the end of the movie, we had all retreated to the fire pit viewing area as the chilly mountain temperatures set in.
7/10/19
This was our most adventurous day of the trip as we were spending the entire day using out Mountain Adventure passes at the summit of Vail Mountain. The adventure passes were pretty sweet, and certainly a vacation highlight for all of us.
The excursion started with a 10 minute gondola ride to the to Eagle’s Nest. The summit was covered with outdoor family activities.
First up, the Forest Flyer Mountain Coaster. Its like bobsledding on rails. The ride lasts about a minute, but sends you flying down the mountain at speeds over 40mph. The vertical drop of the coaster is 3,400 feet. That is a bigger drop than nine Welch Village ski runs (360 ft.) stacked on top of each other! This would proves to be such a family favorite, we came back to ride a second time later in the afternoon.
Next up was the Bungee Trampoline, which also was a favorite, and experienced twice during our stay. Who knew doing flips on these was so difficult!
The third activity of the day was the ropes course. Aidan and Ashlynn braved the Gore Range Adventure Course scaling and crossing obstacles suspended by cable more than 30 feet in the air.
By this point, the kids started to split up, as not everybody wanted to do the same activities.
Brianna and Felicity did the Game Creek Zip Lining Tour before joining Scarlett at the Paramount Peak Climbing Wall.
Then they all did Eagle’s Nest Tubing and the Marmot Mini Kids Tubing.
Even though the kids tubing was for a younger crowed, our kids loved getting sprayed with water on the hot summer afternoon. For how hot it was, we were surprised to see see piles of (dirty) snow on the ski hill.
Before doing some second and third passes on the adventure course, we had a great sit down lunch at Eagle’s Nest Restaurant. And by 4PM, we were exhausted. The sun and altitude were getting to everybody. We needed to cool down and get back down the mountain.
Once in Vail Village, we found Haagen-Dazs Ice Cream, and a fountain in the middle of the village.
Later that evening, Dyan got the girls all dolled up and we went out for pizza.
Since it was such a beautiful evening, we got some great pics of the kids around the resort.
7/11/19
Pool Day! We were at the pool by 10AM, staking claim to front row at the pool – a very highly coveted location. While the kids frolicked in the pool, Dyan and I picked up Starbucks and a grab bag of candy for them. They literally played in the pool, ALL. DAY. LONG.
That night, we went to the Beaver Creek Rodeo, which was a lot of fun for the kids.
There was candy, face painting, pony rides and even a calf chase (for prizes) where the kids got to go out into the rodeo.
But the unexpected highlight of the night was an evening dip in the pool. As dusk settled in, storm were springing all around us, but our resort seemed to dodge most of them. We all sat in the hot tub and reminisced about our favorite and least favorite vacations. When we asked the kids what their least favorite family vacation had been, Ashlynn put it best when she said, “I wouldn’t call any of our vacations bad, it’s just that some, (Disney) are better than others.” All the kids agreed, this vacation IS the BEST. Dyan and I tended to agree. Being at a 5-star resort with the kids is a dream come true, and best of all, the kids are finally at an age where they can begin to appreciate the significance of this kind of vacation.
Out of nowhere, the clouds opened up and began downpouring on us. What would have been the end of the night for most families turned into just the beginning for us. The kids shrieked as the cold raindrops poured down on them. But we had no plans to let this “rain on our parade.” We played right though the thunderstorm. We swam in the pool for 3 hours that evening, until it closed at 11PM. There was a flag banner than stretched across the pool. We spent well over an hour taking running jumps into the pool, trying to touch the flags. It was an absolute riot. It was my favorite night of the vacation. Sadly, it was also, our last night at Beaver Creek…
7/12/19
…But our vacation was not over. Nope, not in the least, we had a few more things to do and see. Our morning started off with a huge, delicious, breakfast at Northside Kitchen.
Next stop, Keystone, CO. This is the ski area Aaron and I skied at in March. We arrived a couple hours early, so we spent some time shopping around the ski village and feeding the gigantic rainbow trout in Keystone Lake.
Our big adventure of the day was horseback riding through the Arapaho National Forest. After arriving at Keystone Stables, we all got assigned horses:
Ashlynn: Angus
Brianna: Peanut
Scarlett: Scout
Felicity: Rio
Aidan: Teddy
Dyan: Rocky
Me: Hack
We bought a 90 minute trail ride through the national forest. I’ve been on a few trail rides in my days and they’ve run the gamut of good to bad. Some are just walks along a dirt path which can get pretty monotonous. Keystone Stables had a different kind of ride in mind for us. One that would test our abilities of riding horse while climbing the side of a mountain in one of the most picturesque national forests in the country. To say it was anything less than phenomenal would be straight up inaccurate.
The ride started with a gentle stroll through the pasture toward the base of the mountain. This would be the only chance we’d have to get acclimated to the horse. We quickly ventured into thick forest and steep, uphill terrain. At times, the trails were so narrow, our horses had us brushing up on trees and rock ledges. We climbed over 2,000 feet up the side of the mountain as we moseyed along switchbacks and across avalanche slide areas. And for some reason, Dyan and I got the problem ponies. It seemed as though Rocky hadn’t gotten enough lunch. He kept stopping to eat the grass, which was a “No-No” in the national forest. No amount of pulling the reins was going to stop his afternoon snack. And Hack also had an issue. He’d act like a pokey puppy creating 20-30 yards between us and Dyan/Rocky before going into a full blown trot, almost gallop in an effort to catch up. Our guide noticed this one occasion and asked me to keep our speed in check. Oopsie.
The ride down the mountain was probably more fun than the ride up had been, because we had to do a lot of leaning back to help keep the horses speed and balance in check as they ventured down the steep terrain. The kids absolutely loved the trail ride and grew quite fond of their equestrian companions. After we got home from the trip, we asked the kids what their favorite excursion was on the trip. Trail ride. Unanimous. Vacation Gold!
We made the hour drive back to Denver, with a picturesque stop at Loveland Pass.
But before the night was complete, we had another special treat for the kids. Dinner. But not just any dinner.
Our reservations were right at 6PM. Our venue was the iconic, Buckhorn Exchange! The kids went crazy over all the stuffed animals in the place. We played a cutthroat game of “I Spy” pointing out the most obscure and unique animals in the restaurant.
When it was time to order, the kids went with some unique plates too. For starters, we all shared the cheesy rattlesnake dip, which was an absolute hit. EVERYBODY tried it!
For dinners, Aidan got a Buffalo ribeye and Scarlett they Buffalo cheeseburger. Ashlynn and Brianna ordered ribs while Felicity wanted chicken fingers. Dyan and I split the filet and quail dinner. Everybody enjoyed their meals, however, the quail was nothing to write home about.
After dinner, we spent the evening at the downtown Sheraton hotel, rooftop pool.
7/13/19
The morning started off with a 1st breakfast at the Sheraton Club Lounge. We met the manager in the lounge, and he was quite impressed with the kids behavior among the group of business travelers enjoying a quite breakfast. He called down to the main hotel kitchen and had them prepare some giant, fresh, warm, gooey, chocolate chip cookies! They were absolutely delightful. After checking out of the hotel, the kids had their 2nd breakfast at Krispy Kreme, right next door. The sugar would be running high today.
The drive to Omaha should have been super long, and boring, but we came up with a new game. As the kids played on iPads, Dyan and I started a competition. The good ‘ol A-Z game. Simple rules, find a license plate or word that begins with A before progressing to B, then C, and so forth. The game got feisty as Dyan pulled way out ahead when I could not complete the letter “Q.” Eventually I did, and came back to beat here at the very end when she was stuck on “X.” But it didn’t stop there. We then decided to make it a team effort to do the same with numbers. A daunting task. The challenge would be going from 1-100, and then completing A-Z. We’d have today’s and tomorrow’s drives to complete the challenge. It started out easy. One through nine was a piece of cake. But things got way more difficult once we reached double digits. The game was full of frustrations. We must have passed a dozen signs for Highway ”25” in North Platte, but we unfortunately were stuck on number 24. We scoured the sides of semi’s, road signs, speed limit signs and gas prices. Midway through the day, Aidan decided to join the game, AGAINST us. He caught up in a hurry when we stopped at Sonic for lunch and he counted 1-28 on the drive-up stalls. Lucky. By the time we reached Omaha, we were both in the 60’s, setting us up for a challenging ride home tomorrow.
That evening, we went to Oklahoma Joe’s for BBQ dinner before retiring to the hotel to let the kids unwind with the Lion King movie.
7/14/19
We reached the final day of the vacation. We spent the morning back at the Omaha Zoo checking out some of the attractions we had missed earlier in the trip. We went to the Desert Dome & Kingdoms of the Night. The Desert Dome is such a cool attraction, but we had never been to the Kingdoms attraction. It’s housed underneath the Desert Dome and the dark stairwell to get there is quite unassuming. But wow, did it ever pop a punch! It’s basically a nocturnal animal exhibit, so it’s very dark. But wow, the exhibits are so amazing. The snakes, alligators, bats and other creatures make this a must see.
We did a couple other exhibits before packing up and getting back on the road for home. We continued playing the numbers and alphabet game. The kids had lost a little interest, but Dyan and I were going strong. I swear, some of the number took over 30 minutes to locate, and when we did, we had some loud celebrations and high fives. The kids, and passer-byers, must have thought we were crazy. By Des Moines, we had reached the 80’s. Just outside of Des Moines, we hit a lucky stretch of numbers and we wrapped up with 1-100 around Ames. Back to the alphabet. We needed A-Z before we got home. While we thought this part of the game would be easier, it ended up be more difficult than we thought. Interstate 35 is not the heavily traveled semi-truck route that I-80 is. Less semi’s means less signage. But, we did have billboards on our side. Signs like Dairy Queen, Wanamingo, Xpress Scripts helped us seal the deal. Just outside of Fairbault was the “Zumbrota Mazepa” sign. That was the “Z” we needed! We found the 126 total signs were looking for!
Around 5PM, we pulled up to the house. After 2,146 miles, it was home sweet home! Another remarkable trip in the books.
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Get To Know Me Tag
tagged by @heonseoks & Lainey on @looking-for-my-seoulmate, thanks guys <333
Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 10 people.
THE LAST:
1. Drink: watermelon lemonade 2. Phone call: erm...my grandma, I think 3. Text message: from Morgan, my cousin/friend: “never mind everything is fine now” which was inaccurate because that was at 12:45 and I stayed up until fucking 5 a.m. that night 4. Song you listened to: I’m listening to Making Christmas rn from The Nightmare Before Christmas soundtrack, that counts for “last”, right? 5. Time you cried: like an hour ago because I’m a weak fluffball
HAVE YOU:
6. Dated someone twice: never dated before, my dude 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: never kissed 8. Been cheated on: nopeeeee 9. Lost someone special: yeah 10. Been depressed: no. I’m a ball of emotions so I usually roll on to another emotion before things get too serious 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: nope. goodness gracious I’m boring af
LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:
12-14: blue, purple, light gray
IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:
15. Made new friends: mmhmm 16. Fallen out of love: I didn’t count it as love. 17. Laughed until you cried: yep 18. Found out someone was talking about you: yeah 19. Met someone who changed you: not technically met them but yeah quite a few people have changed me. I’m like clay, easily changed 20. Found out who your friends are: YES. 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: never been kissed so no
GENERAL:
22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: all because they’re only peeps from my family. I only had a Facebook when I was younger for the games so I don’t really use it now 23. Do you have any pets: a dumb chocolate lab named Charlie, a potbelly pig named Daisy, a squadron of chickens... 24. Do you want to change your name: not really?? Idk what I’ll do when I get married though, it only goes with so many things 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: went to Skywalk with a couple friends then chilled at my house with them (they made me watch Titanic and I almost threw myself off the deck) 26. What time did you wake up: 8:30ish, my dad knocked on my door and told me breakfast was ready 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: talking with Lainey about who knows what...I’m amazing I stayed awake though because I was running on 4 hours of sleep and proceeded to stay awake for another hour 28. Name something you can’t wait for: finding the love of my life my birthday MY BABIES COMEBACK (my priorities are questionable...) 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: half an hour ago? I’m cooped up in my room and I think she’s sleeping on the couch 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: one thing?? uhhh...myself. Because that way I can change multiple things about myself (organization skills, procrastination issues, etc.) but still be changing one thing: ME. 31. What are you listening right now: Lose It by Oh Wonder and fuck now I need to write a song fic god I’m cringey 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: does Tommy count? He’s a ginger kid I’ve known since preschool 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: my procrastination mosquito bites 34. Most visited Website: tumblr probably.
LOST QUESTIONS.
35. Mole/s: I think there’s one on my back idk 36. Mark/s: I have several birthmarks and little freckle things 37. Childhood dream: to be a doctor 38. Hair Color: blackish to dark brown with blue highlights in the front (subject to change) 39. Long or short hair: long. It was longer a month ago, before it was trimmed... -_- 40. Do you have a crush on someone: Chanyeol Luhan 40+ celebrities not currently although I know a cute guy who I may like, eventually 41. What do you like about yourself: my height? 42. Piercings: 2 (one on each ear) 43. Bloodtype: IDK...I’m lame 44. Nickname: mermaid/Ari/Goose 45. Relationship status: happily?? single. or married to a plant. LONELY. 46. Zodiac: leo 47. Pronouns: she/her 48. Favorite TV Show: The TV is dominated by my brother so I don’t watch much but I like Chopped, Food Network Star, We Bare Bears, The Voice, Dance Moms... 49. Tattoos: no thank you 50. Right or left hand: right 51. Surgery: never 52. Hair dyed in different color: blue highlights 53. Sport: the closest I’ve come to a sport is karate 55. Vacation: I want to visit a lotttt of places (realistically I never will but dreams are nice) 56. Pair of trainers: ...?
MORE GENERAL:
57. Eating Currently: nothing 58. Drinking currently: watermelon lemonade 59. I’m about to: answer the next question 61. Waiting for: a lot of things. 62. Want: a lot of things (I’m needy okay) 63. Get married: I’d like to, someday. Once I find someone who’s not a total douche bag who miraculously likes me 64. Career: I’m leaning towards neurosurgeon, but definitely in the medical field
WHICH IS BETTER
65. Hugs or kisses: never experienced a kiss so :D 66. Lips or eyes: eyes are pretty but they creep me the fuck out so lips I guess
67. Shorter or taller: taller, pleaseee. I hate towering over people and need someone to tower over me (even a couple inches is good)
68. Older or younger: older
70. Nice arms or nice stomach: I don’t particularly care?? Depends on the meaning of nice...healthy, please. I don’t want just a skeleton. Although someone who can carry my fatness would be nice.
71. Sensitive or loud: Sensitively loud
72. Hook up or relationship: Relationship
73. Troublemaker or hesitant: I dunno.
HAVE YOU EVER:
74. Kissed a stranger: lmao what’s a kiss
75. Drank hard liquor: nopeee I’m clean
76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: sunglasses, yeah.
77. Turned someone down: lolllll nope mate. Please push someone nice and handsome in my direction.
78. Sex in the first date: what’s a date. Also I’m young so no thanks. I’d like to keep up my image as the perfect picture of youth and innocence
79. Broken someone’s heart: how about no. at least not to my knowledge.
80. Had your heart broken: I have no heart. I wouldn’t say so, no.
81. Been arrested: Shhhhh... no.
82. Cried when someone died: Yeah
83. Fallen for a friend: hahahahahhahahaha....yeah I did, once. ;-; RIP.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN:
84. Yourself: not always
85. Miracles: Yep
86. Love at first sight: Love has more factors to it than just superficial stuff, so no
87. Santa Claus: when i was a young warthog child
88. Kiss in the first date: I mean...you can kiss my hand? That’d be okay, I guess. Cheek kiss? Possibly. Idk, a lot of this depends on the person. but no lips please and thank you good night
89. Angels: mmhmm
OTHER:
90. Current best friends’ names: Sarah, Renee, Morgan, Lainey
91. Eyecolor: blackkkkkk very dark brown
92. Favorite movie: I can’t choose? Princess Bride is always great.
I tag @stfurenee @exo-af @mini-minhyuk @johnlock-saranghae @jai-dragon @causekpop @yeolhighness @galaxyexolover ... only if anyone wants to
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7, 14, 10, 21 for Keaton!! Loved your writing btw. Truly stellar!
7. a feeder/feedee relationship14. weighing and/or measuring and/or numbers kink10. humiliation (kinky in character or not)21. high school/college AU setting
Keaton had never really seen much point in going to college, but most – if not all – of his friend group was working to get in somewhere, so he sort of just followed along because it was what people expected. He didn’t want to do anything grand, he honestly just wanted to hang out with his mates before they all went their separate ways as adults. Of course, as soon as the actual work of college kicked in, Keaton sort of regretted getting tangled up in it, but there were some perks to all the stress of classes.
Getting to meet a ton of new people, for one. Most of which weren’t too annoyed when he constantly asked for directions. And two, the cheap food around the campus was right up his alley! Pizza, burgers, donuts – anything that could be easily and cheaply made, and there was a place to eat it here!
And another good thing…he was pretty much away from any sort of parental supervision – not that his parents had been very hands on to begin with, but this was total freedom! He could walk around his little dorm room buck naked if he wanted to, and no one could say boo about it! So long as he actually kept up with his classes, he could do whatever he pleased. Have game nights with his friends until the wee hours of the morning, eat cold pizza for breakfast, whatever!
Of course, the college diet wasn’t exactly the best if you were the sort to care about looks.
Keaton had never put much stock in physical appearance; he was athletic enough, even if he always seemed to be a bit dirty from his scavenging activities. You don’t get to be a great collector of people’s thrown away treasures without visiting a dump or two, and there was nothing clean or tidy about those.
But, even without really caring about how he looked, it didn’t take long for his fast food diet to catch up with him. Getting up one morning for his earliest class, Keaton had stretched, swung his legs over the edge of his bed, and groggily looked down to realize that his lap was obscured by a chubby potbelly. Surprisingly, his first thought wasn’t to cut back or check out the gym. Scratching his gut, he first went off to scrounge up some breakfast, and then, as he chewed his way through some cold pizza, the thought to step on a scale popped into his mind. He hadn’t touched the damn thing since starting college, shoved away into a tiny corner of the bathroom he shared with a couple other dudes. But, now seemed as good a time as any to see where he was at.
Slice of pizza dangling from between his teeth, Keaton pulled on some boxers, and slipped into the bathroom; checking the scale to make sure it worked before actually stepping on. Eventually, the numbers settled just a few pounds over two hundred. Well, that was certainly a bit more than just the freshman fifteen…but the thought only had his tail wagging, and his face heating up at the thought of how big he could get if he was actually trying.
So, after that epiphany that morning, Keaton began to look into some things in his spare time. Turns out, this wasn’t all that odd of a kink to have, and there were plenty of people online to talk with about it. More and more, his nights were filled with chat rooms and whatever junk he’d been able to buy for himself to eat; giving details to those interested about how much he could pack away, and all the calories and fat were in the foods he had gotten. Soon enough, people started contacting him with offers to pay for food, so long as they got updates on his progress and maybe even a few pics of his gains.
That was too good a deal to pass up, so Keaton eagerly agreed. It would certainly take a good deal off his expenses, which had certainly had a shift in the recent months to mostly revolve around food. He had all kinds of things coming in now, no longer just restricted to the cheap stuff. He’d go out to the fancier places, too, order the richest foods and just go to town; covertly taking pics of himself and even managing to get a few videos without anyone noticing – or, at least, noticing enough to tell him to stop.
All the binging had taken its toll, and a little gut was something he was looking at in the rear-view mirror at this point.
His stomach had ballooned out into a proper gut, soft and wide, causing rolls to form at his sides and down his back. Thick thighs that cushioned his growing gut whenever he sat, and a wide ass that nestled his tail atop two plush cheeks. His arms had some wobble to them now, his face had rounded out and his pecs had fleshed out into full on moobs. And, man, did he love it. Keaton didn’t know why he was just now discovering how awesome it was to be the big guy on campus. He wasn’t the only one getting off on his size, though. His many online enablers were frequent with their compliments and humiliating comments whenever he posted something in the chats.
What a pig you’ve turned into!
Look at that gut!
You’ve got bigger tits than my sister!
Bet you get tired out just from getting up for a snack!
At first, he hadn’t really been sure how to take some of the comments, but reading through them at night, still stuffing his face, made him a special kind of hot and bothered. It was encouraging as hell, and his nights usually ended with a sore stomach, empty boxes and wrappers littered about, and bed sheets to clean.
Keaton wasn’t complaining one bit, though. After all, the numbers on the scale just kept going up and up, and he had to replace his clothes more than he’d ever had to in his life. Getting bigger was his goal, and college was all about testing one’s limits before heading out into the real world, right? Right.
#Anonymous#male weight gain#male wg#chubby!keaton#slight nsfw?#bless you for your patience on this#I left up the feeder/feedee relationship to vagueness#since you didn't specify a character#so it could be anyone & more than one character#keaton definitely strikes me as the sort to not care & then when it happens 100% get turned on by it
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