#at least i am working remotely and have the next three days off

[qqueenofhades]

I have sent way too many emails for it to be the Friday of a holiday weekend.

[the-californicationist]

Through a Glass, Darkly

A new priest is assigned to your remote abbey, but when you go to him for confession, you realize you are kneeling before the Devil himself.

Anonymous asked: Hiya Cali, crazy thought but happy october 🎃 brain worm, think about mirror sex with vampire!Price / 141 and the absolute flith that would pour from his mouth as he watches you stretch around seemingly nothing…

———

TW: vampirism, blood play, priest abuse of power, heavy religious imagery, fem!reader, rape/noncon, virginity loss, corruption, mind breaking, historical fantasy au, father/my child/sister religious titles, fully adult characters

You’ve been warned, and I don’t wanna hear it. Your click, your fault.

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. — 1 Corinthians 13:12

—x—x—x—

When Mr. Hawthorne arrived that morning with fresh milk, eggs, and a cart full of potatoes and turnips, you thought you would forget yourself and fling your hands around his fat neck. It had been weeks since supplies had been delivered, and although you lived in what was probably the smallest abbey in the world, you were just thankful that you had not been completely forgotten.

“Oh, thank you, Mister Hawthorne! We are so grateful for your service. The Lord rewards the generous,” you praised him.

The plump man’s face flushed red and he took off his sweaty cap, holding it limply in his hands,

“Tha’s alright, Sister. I had a good yield this season. You send a letter over to us if you need anything more. Hopefully that new priest will be arriving soon. Margie said she spotted him at the inn yesterday afternoon.”

“New priest?” You asked, wholly unaware of your abbey receiving an actual man of the cloth.

“Yes, Sister. He looks a little rugged for a holy man, but she said he was wearin’ the collar, clear as day.”

“Oh,” you mused, unsure of what to say.

“I’ll take my leave of you, Sister. Hope he’s a good one. It’ll be nice to have services back in the old church.”

“Yes, it will. Take care, and safe travels, sir. May God bless your next harvest.”

You watched as his rickety cart, pulled by an equally rotund mule, delivered the farmer away from you and your tiny sanctuary. As soon as he was out of sight, you rushed back through the wooden doors of the abbey to find Sister Ruth and Sister Sarah to tell them of the news.

They were both as shocked as you were. You had all three been convinced that the good Pope had completely forgotten about your little sect, and no letters had come for months. But, a new priest in this parish would bring much needed governance to the provincial people of your small village, and you needed to prepare.

You and your fellow nuns cleaned, cleaned, and cleaned some more. By nightfall, the abbey gleamed anew.

As you were preparing for bed, you heard the whinny of a horse outside of the abbey doors. You looked out into the corridor, and Sister Ruth was peeking out as well. Arming yourselves with long, steel fire pokers, you made your way to the entrance. Ruth nudged you with her elbow, encouraging you to call out. So, you said,

“It is past hours. Please come back tomorrow!”

“I’m Father John Price, and unless I’m mistaken, this is my abbey,” a deep, gravelly voice called out to you, seeming to flow and roll through the door with a convincing ease.

You cracked the wooden portal and looked out.

There, holding onto a frothy, exhausted steed was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. He wore an all-black capello romano on his head, towering above you by at least a full cubit. His face was pale, protected from labors under the sun, but his hands looked like they had certainly known the true meaning of work. His body was well-muscled and immense. Even in the midst of his flowing black robes, you could see the bulging form of his shoulders stretching the fine fabric. Around his thick neck, his white clergy collar sat dutifully under a jutting Adam’s apple and a proud chin, shaven although the rest of his beard was trimmed to full length.

But it was his eyes that unnerved you. For all of his brutish form, the look in his gaze made your blood run cold. There was something hypnotizing about the pale blue irises. It made him seem almost inhuman.

That deep, purring voice returned, and he stepped closer to you, threatening your threshold with white, sharp teeth pulled in a tight smile,

“Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

“Forgive me, Father. Please, come in. Sister Ruth will take your horse to the stables. Allow me to take your bags and show you to your chamber.”

He followed behind you at a close distance, studying the abbey’s courtyard and walls, judging its worthiness. You were proud of the work you had done to keep it in good working order, but you knew it was in desperate need of repairs.

As you walked, you tried to make small talk to ease the tension,

“I have been in prayer thanking God for your arrival, Father. It has been many years since we have been blessed to house a priest within our abbey walls. Our parishioners will be filled with joy to return to their pews.”

“Mm.” His hum was polite but noncommittal, so you gave up on the niceties.

Finally, you reached his cell, you pried open the door and allowed him to enter before you. He studied the spartan room with the expected amount of enthusiasm, and watched you lay his bag down on the small chair at his desk. You straightened out the Bible that lay on the table, making sure the corner matched up with the edge of the table, placing it just so.

“Will you take supper, Father Price?”

“No, I am not hungry. You will find that I eat very little, in fact,” he said, taking off his cloak and laying it on the freshly-made bed. He hung his hat on its hook and tried to straighten his hair.

“Should I have a mirror brought in for your cell?” You asked, thinking that he may need to look presentable. As a nun, you never used a mirror as a rule, but you were willing to accommodate your new steward as best you could.

“Do you use a mirror, my child?” Price’s voice deepened and smoldered like a bundle of kindling, threatening to burn. He stepped toward you, using his size to impose himself upon you in the small space.

“N-n-no,” you stammered, “Of course not, Father. But I am not in a position to be perceived such as yourself.”

“Recite Proverbs 31:30, my child,” he commanded, stepping closer to you, slowly creeping into your personal space, close enough that you could smell the scent of the sun and the grass on his robes, mixing with the sweat of his skin.

You swallowed, clearing your throat, and obeyed,

“Yes, Father. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.”

“Good,” Price smiled, using his finger to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, “We must not succumb to vanity, my child. A dutiful disciple is one who serves others, yes?”

“Yes, Father,” you said, stepping backwards, away from his touch, hanging your head in reverence.

“In fact,” he purred, “It is James 1:23 which reminds us that those who look into the glass will be blinded by their own desires, only seeing themselves, incapable of suffering God’s divinity. It is the good works done that are worthy of praise, my child, although…”

He stepped forward again, grabbing your chin in his huge hand roughly, clutching the very bone of your jaw, making you gasp,

“Our Lord has taken special care to display his almighty talent in your face, has he not? Such delicate features. Like an angel.”

His mouth was so close to yours that you could smell the heady scent of iron and musk on his breath. His piercing eyes never left yours, pinning you in place.

Then, he released you, and you left the room without being dismissed, closing the cell door behind you and rushing back to your own cloister. You rushed into your room, locking the door fast, and knelt at your altar to pray for forgiveness.

Except… you were not asking to be forgiven for suggesting vanity to your new priest. No. You were asking to be forgiven for the warm, wet lust that was smearing across the crease of your thighs. Father Price had awakened strong feelings in you not of enlightenment, but of lurid desire, and you begged to be cleansed.

The next morning, Father Price called the abbey together. Yourself, Sister Ruth, and Sister Sarah reported to the small courtyard, along with two young pilgrims who had lived there since the past summer, Timothy and David. You and the nuns had suspected them as runaways, but they pledged themselves to the cloth and took care of the manual labor around the premises since you lacked any monks to speak of. They were well into their young adulthood now, and they would become apprentices to Father Price, if he saw fit.

You tried to put what had transpired between you and the good Father out of your mind, but seeing him in the cold light of day did nothing to quell the sinful desire you felt towards him. The way he had grabbed you…

“Good morrow, everyone. I ask that you will join me in our Biblical studies every morning. I find that the word of God helps me put the rest of my day right. I want to begin at the beginning, yes?”

He looked around at all of your faces, as if anyone would protest against his power, and then he continued,

“What does Genesis 4:7 tell us, Sister Ruth?”

“Speaking to Cain, the Lord said: If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.”

“Sin lieth at the door,” Father Price mused, then, as if shaking himself from his thought, he said, “Please continue, Sister.”

“And Cain talked with Abel, his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel, his brother, and slew him. And the Lord said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother's keeper?”

“You are,” the priest’s voice rose in his chest, startling Sister Ruth and silencing her words. He began to pace back and forth, slowly stalking through your small ranks, “You are your brother’s keeper. You are more than that. You are keepers of this entire parish, are you not?”

“Yes, Father,” you all said in unison.

“There will be a reckoning in this parish,” Price snarled, “I will not lead a flock of demons disguised as sheep. If any of you hear witness or see evidence of sin, deliver it to me at once. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Father,” you repeated.

“I will now take your confessions. I understand that it has been a number of years since you were cleansed, so be prepared to repent lest you allow the Devil into your soul.”

“Yes, Father.”

The day dragged on through the gray clouds, and Father Price had taken his time with the confessions of the members of your abbey. Sister Sarah had gone into his cell after the boys, and she had emerged with red eyes full of tears. You had comforted her in hushed whispers in the corner of her cloister, asking her what he had done, thinking it was something even more awful that how he had accosted you last night.

“He…” Sarah sobbed, “He made me kneel on sharp stones while I recited my prayers. It hurts so much, Sister.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Although sharp stones were not a gentle punishment, they were at least devoid of physical contact. He had not taken a hand to her. But, Sister Sarah was young. She had avoided some of the harsher training practices of the more traditional members of the church. You knew that there were a bevvy of punishments that would make kneeling in discomfort feel like a blessing.

Sister Ruth also came out sniffling, reporting that she had fifty lashes across her palms for the sin of plucking figs off of a nearby tree owned by the neighboring farm.

Again, you sighed and thanked God that he had a little mercy within him.

His cell door opened, and Father Price locked eyes with you and demanded,

“Come, my child. It is time for your confession.”

“Yes, Father Price,” you complied, taking your leave of the other nuns and following him into his cell.

Inside of his room, a shaft of sunlight cut across his face, illuminating his eyes and stunning you, keeping you from moving forward.

“Shut the door, my child,” his timbre was ominous, and you tried to hold yourself together.

“So far,” he rose from his seat and walked over to you, “I have cleansed the souls of a nun who is a thief, another who is a sloth, a young man who is a liar, and another who is filled with pride. It seems, Sister, that you have allowed the Devil through the door, indeed.”

“Forgive me, Father. I knew not of their wicked ways, nor have I your wisdom to correct them.” You stared at the stone floor. It was easier than looking at him.

“I do not believe that the wickedness was borne within them,” Father Price mused, tapping his finger on his lips as if deep in thought, “Because I discovered this beneath your mattress, and so I know the evil is inside of you.”

In his hands, Father Price held up a square, familiar, looking glass. You trembled, watching as your own reflection met you back. You could see the fear spread across your face, and you were disgusted by it.

“Tell me, my child. How did you use this mirror?” He asked sweetly, but as he watched you think about how best to answer the question, his voice became hot with fury and he snarled into your ear, “And don’t you dare lie to me. I will know your deceit.”

Your heart was banging in your chest, and so, beyond your better judgment, you told him the truth.

“I used it to… examine myself, Father.”

“Show me,” he commanded.

It was as if his whole cell bent and bowed under the weight of his authority. Your body began to move against your own will, relenting to his instead. Without thinking, you pulled back your habit and let your hair fall down your back. Then, you began to peel away your robes. Underneath, you untied your shift, and you allowed the fabric to pool on the floor at your feet, staring at yourself naked in the glass.

He watched you in silent awe, his pupils darkening, his mouth parted at his full lips, his chest heaving as he watched you make yourself bare before him.

“Go on,” he said, knowing that you were not finished with your demonstration.

You felt yourself obeying him helplessly, and you performed the same inspection that you did in private in front of him.

“I wanted to see how God hath made me, Father. So, I looked.”

“Where did you look, my child?”

“Here,” you raised your hands to squeeze the supple flesh of your breasts, showing him how your nipples were bouncy and puffy until they turned stiff and tight.

“And here,” you allowed your hand to fit itself between your thighs, spreading your labia, covered in dense hair, until your pliant lips revealed a shining, smooth center, wet and ready for pleasure.

“Now that you have examined the Lord’s fine works, what did you do with this knowledge?” Price asked.

“I would touch this part of me, Father, and I would let it bring me to Heaven.”

“I would like to know Heaven, my child. Turn around.”

You tried to stop yourself, but he was using his power to bind you. You were nothing more than a toy, helpless to his every whim. You turned, your back facing him, and he set the mirror on his desk so that you could see yourself within it. Then, he moved in front of you and his body blocked your view, reaching down to grab your chin like he had the first night he arrived, raising your mouth up to his.

You thought he would kiss you. His lips were just within reach, but he commanded you darkly,

“Confess.”

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you recited dumbly, “It has been three years since my last confession. In that time, I have…”

His mouth covered yours, kissing you deeply, feeding you his long tongue and eating up your words before you could say them. Then, you felt his hands on your breasts, squeezing them cruelly, pinching your nipples to make them ache and sting. You couldn’t help the lewd sounds that escaped your throat, but he didn’t seem to care to stop you. Finally, he pulled away, and when you looked into his eyes again, the bright blue had been replaced with a Hellish red.

You gasped, and he grabbed you tighter, pulling you towards him by the soft meat of your breasts, making you cry out in agony. That noise seemed to please him because he smiled down at you, and you could see that his teeth had grown into long, wolf-like fangs. He chuckled,

“My pretty little sinner.”

“D-d-demon!” You cried breathlessly, shaking from fear as he held you to his body.

Price bared his fangs at your assessment, hissing from the title,

“Yes, and you have invited me in, so eager to be corrupted.”

Releasing you from his grip, he held you around your waist with one arm, and he used his free hand to dip between your legs, discovering your wetness there and sighing from it.

“Mmm… Let me taste your sweet, little Heaven, Sister.”

He knelt on the floor in front of you and held onto your wide ass cheeks in each hand, forcing your hips to tilt toward his face. You looked down and watched as his impossibly long tongue flicked against your swollen bud. His wide tongue parted your lips to drag wetly between them. You tried to hold back your cries, but you’d never known such pleasure, so you could barely keep it in. You prayed for forgiveness as you came apart against this demon’s mouth, succumbing to his vileness.

Then, you glanced into the mirror, and you noticed that you couldn’t see his head. Only the collar and robes were visible in the glass. All you could see is how your lips were being spread apart, seemingly on their own.

He had no reflection.

“You… you’re…” You couldn’t say the words, but Price knew what you meant to call him.

He looked over his shoulder, using his thumbs to spread your lips wide apart, gazing at them in the glass and smiling even though he didn’t have a reflection to smile at. Then, he looked back up at you, a sick grin spread across his lips,

“Cain, yes. The immortal wanderer, cursed from the earth which hath opened her mouth to receive my brother’s blood. And I have not tasted food, for it becomes ash in my mouth, just like He promised. But, blood… I can taste blood just fine.”

He planted the softest kisses between your shivering thighs, sucking on the thin skin, and then, after slaking his thirst with your sticky center once more, he sank his fangs right in the inside of your thigh, making you howl with pain.

His eyes were locked on yours, watching you writhe in agony, your nerves sensing his venom coursing through you as he sucked the life from your veins. You watched yourself in the mirror, seeing the puncture wounds, watching as blood spilled out across your skin, smearing and being licked away by his greedy tongue. Finally, he released you, and the poison of his mouth took effect. You became deeply fatigued, and you could barely stand on your own. He had to hold you in his arms to keep you in position.

He stood, smiling down at you, his mouth caked with your dark blood, his teeth stained red,

“What a blessing you are, my child. Such perfect innocence tastes so fine, so… pure. I almost hate to sour your ripe little fruit, but that will be sweet in its own way, yes?”

You watched as your demonic priest yanked at his collar, popping it from his neck. Then, he pulled off his robes, tearing away at his layers until he was as bare as you, both of you fully naked and pressed together, joined in a crash of skin and heat, his mouth painting your body with your own blood as he kissed and licked your breasts and belly, teasing you with his tongue as he explored you.

Then, he stepped around to your back, and you caught sight of his heavy cock as it swung between his legs like that of a rutting beast. You tried to fight the black spell you were under, but it was no use. You were trapped in his thrall.

“Watch yourself in the mirror, my child,” Father Price commanded you, grinning as you immediately obeyed, “Come and behold the marvelous works of God.”

You couldn’t turn your eyes away. You were alone in the mirror, and yet, your breasts were being crushed by invisible fists, your nipples tormented between unseen fingers. Then, you felt Price fit his phallus against the entrance of your sex and press it into you, stretching you wide across his prodding cockhead. You saw how your body was being invaded by him, pulling itself apart to allow him inside. The dark hole of your quim opened like a toothless maw, drooling and starving, hungry to take him deep within you, welcoming him up to your womb.

You sobbed at the strain, and then you felt something give way sharply inside you, and he had a much easier time of filling you with his engorged length. As he fucked himself up into you, he was grunting like an animal, praising you in your ear, telling you his own confession,

“Forgive me, my child, for I am sinning. Right now… I am sinning with you, and it is so sweet. God has made you for me. What a gift you are. See?”

He used his hand to swipe at your gaping hole, bringing his hand in front of your face so you could see the bright blood that coated his fingertips,

“You have broken so easily for me. The Lord knew you needed me to come and serve you. He brought me to you, my child. You welcomed me inside, didn’t you? Spread these lips for me, invited me in… Didn’t you? Say it.”

“Y-y-yes, F-father…” You whimpered, tears dripping down your chin and onto your bare chest.

The loud slapping of skin against skin filled the cell, and you watched as your hole spread wider and wider, taking more of him with each punishing thrust.

“Louder, my child,” he hissed in your ear.

“Yes, Father!”

His hand was playing in your slippery folds, massaging your hidden bud and forcing you to clench hard around him from the pleasure. In the glass, you could see your hole trying in vain to twist itself shut, pumping him in a steady beat.

“Didn’t you pray to God for a prick like mine when you touched your filthy quim in your mirror?”

“Yes, Father!”

It was true. You had touched yourself, hoping that you might one day know the pleasure of being taken by a man. You had watched the mating of cattle in the field next to the abbey many a summer past, hanging clothes and sheets on the line, and yet all the while looking into the grassy glade, staring at the bull who would mount his cow and thrust his turgid rod into her to breed her deeply. And she would croon for him, and when he left her, the spent seed would hang in long, thick strings from the head of his phallus, making him wet and ready to sink his sword through its next sheath.

“And the Lord answered your prayers, did he not? Begging him for someone to breed you like this, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Father!”

Price was the bull, and you would be bred by him, and you would be cast out of God’s mercy forever. Ruined. Steeped in sin and tainted by lust.

“You smell like a ripe plum, my sweet child, and you’re just as soft in my mouth,” Price began to lick your neck from your sloping shoulder all the way to your earlobe, over and over, letting his spit cover your flesh. Then, he sank his fangs into your vein and began to drink from you in long, slurping sucks, swallowing your blood into his throat in audible gulps, moaning with each mouthful of your essence.

The venom of his demonic bite made your head cloudy and your will compliant.

“Touch yourself, my child,” he mumbled, quickly returning to his feast on your flesh.

You had no choice but to obey. You felt him increase his pace, his long cock bottoming out inside of you with each thrust, flinging his weight into you like a hammer. You began touching your breasts, pinching yourself gently as you watched your ruination unfold in the looking glass, helpless to stop it.

Then, you began to touch your rigid nub, taking over for him as he continued to drink from you. You made achingly slow circles around your most sensitive spot, and because you were so wet, you were able to go faster without any discomfort. You made yourself come quickly, jerking your hips against him as he fucked you, listening to him groan from the feeling of your tight hole trying to squeeze the come out of his body.

“Beg me for my seed, Sister. Beg me to spill it in you,” Price murmured, licking your neck in the spot where he had bitten to rub the taste of your blood across his tongue.

“Father, please… Please come in me. Spill in me… oh!”

You felt him jerk inside of you, and then you heard his growling orgasm rip through his body, his cock pulsing wildly, shooting ropes of creamy seed all over your walls, bursting through your tight, virginal core.

“So perfect for me, so perfect…”

Price caught his breath while he was still inside of you, panting and smiling against your neck before he pulled out of you, watching his invisible shaft slip through your cunt in the mirror, the gaping hole slowly shrinking before your eyes. As he retreated, you saw large strings of come drip out of you, white and endless, flowing out of you and onto the floor of the cell.

Father Price dressed himself in front of you, leaving you standing where he had last commanded you to be, admiring your ruined body. Once he clipped his collar back under his shirt and cloak, he stepped in front of you to pinch lightly at the tips of your nipples again, making you whimper like a hungry mutt.

“For all your virtues, Sister, you are prone to sin. An innocent such as yourself must be trained to resist the Devil. Come to my cell for confession every morning and every night. I promise,” he stroked your cheek and then your neck, right where he’d bitten you, “I will put my goodness deep inside of you, my child. Right here.”

His other hand came to touch your bare belly, gently caressing the skin and flesh that protected your womb.

“Yes, Father,” you said, trying to avoid his furious gaze, shaking with pure, gut-wrenching terror, understanding that for you, there was no escape. You were under his vampiric command, and if he wanted you, your body was going to obey. You’d taken the Mark of Cain on your neck, and the only hope for you now was to beg for his mercy.

“Take this mirror with you, my child. I want you to kneel in prayer over it, spread those plump legs wide, and I want you to watch my seed drip out of you. With every drop, you will thank God for me and my prick. When the Lord answers our prayers, it is our duty to be grateful.”

“Yes, Father,” you said, pulling your robes back on and adjusting your habit.

He handed you the mirror, and you took it with a crushing amount of shame, feeling his come still seeping in a steady stream out of your well-used hole.

As you left his cell, he smiled down at you, carefully petting your cheek,

“Don’t worry, my child. Your next confession is in only a few hours. You will feel the warmth of the Lord’s forgiveness again very soon.”

—x—x—x—

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

AO3 Link

[puddle-nerd]

Golden Afternoon

Summary: Just two best friends enjoying the sunshine and a good book. (slight Lo’ak/Human Reader)

Prompt #1 for my submission for #𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Na'vi Language, Na'vi & Human Interactions, Friends, Secret Crush

Na’vi Translation: Iknimaya – (Na’vi for “Stairway to Heaven”) is a treacherous but fundamental rite of passage in which a young Na’vi hunter must select, capture, and successfully bond with one of the ikran who nest in the Hallelujah Mountains

Ikran – also called “Mountain Banshees”, they are large, dragon-like aerial predators often tamed by tribes of Na’vi for thousands of years for traveling long distances, for hunting from the air, or even during times of war

Uniltìranyu – translated to dream-walker in the Na’vi language, it is another term meaning for genetically engineered human/Na’vi-hybrid bodies, designed to serve as a remotely controlled vessel for a human mind

AO3 Link

“Hey, ready to go, Mamas?”

You looked away from your self-appointed art project of redecorating the walls of your private bunk within the human compound and grinned up at the younger son of Jake Sully who was – unfortunately for him – grounded once again for going out with Spider and doing something stupid and reckless. So, with no flying and no access to his best male friend for the next two weeks, that meant you more or less had him all to yourself. Not that you were complaining in the slightest. You had had a crush on him for the last three years since you turned eleven and it didn’t look to be going away any time soon. “Yeah,” you agreed, putting your paintbrush into the dirty cup of water so it wouldn’t solidify. Again. He squinted, stepping into your bedroom and peered closely at the scene you were painting on your metallic wall just for the hell of it. “Am I dressed okay?”

The Na’vi hybrid glanced over your outfit of light blue overall shorts and a white tee shirt and nodded. Then turned his gaze back onto what you had been working on. “You’re getting good,” he complimented and you beamed up at him, your cheeks turning rosy as you muttered back a shy ‘thank you’. You shuffled off your messy bed and located your boots and the socks you wanted to wear with them and slid them on – not in that order, though. “Oh, hey, bring the book.”

You grabbed the old novel that had been republished about some sixty years prior back on Earth and followed him out of your room and to the nearest exit of the compound, grabbing a mask in the airtight antechamber as he put his nitrogen mask back on the proper hook. Once it was secured in place upon your face, he opened the vestibule door and you stepped outside into the beautiful world of Pandora. You were always in awe of the world you had been born on and sometimes wished that you could breathe its air as easily as Lo’ak could. Alas, you were fully human and Norm had told you creating you an Avatar was out of the question until you were at least eighteen years of age. Hormones, he cited, which was bull shit but since you were just a kid, then there wasn’t really anything you could do about it until then. Besides, it was only another three years, seven months, and five days away. But who was counting?

The Na’vi hybrid rolled his golden eyes as he looked back over his shoulder and took in your expected look of awe. He reached down and scooped you up, laughing as you squeaked. Expertly, he moved you to sit on his shoulders while you carefully handled his neural queue so you didn’t accidentally sit on it.

“Careful, Mamas,” he cautioned you, as he did every time. “Sensitive, remember?”

You hummed your agreement, carefully draping the black braid over his shoulder to rest down his lean chest. With you now settled upon his shoulders, he took off, being able to move much faster than he would have if he had let you walk. You were nowhere near as fast as Spider was who was now reaching six feet tall at sixteen years of age so it made sense for Lo’ak to carry you. Plus, without you struggling to keep up, you could take in the scenery a lot better. Just like you liked to do.

Thinking of ages led you to consider upcoming birthdays.

“Hey, Lo,” you inquired, running your fingers idly through his braids as you continued to gaze at Eywa’s beautiful world. He grunted, letting go one of your calves briefly so he could get himself over a log that was surely your height. “Your birthday’s coming up, right? Have you thought about what you wanted? For your birthday?”

He paused and his ears twitched, tickling the insides of your knees as they did so. Then he shrugged, chuckling as you yelped as the movement threatened to topple you. His firm grip on your calves proved he had you steady, though. “I really just want to pass my Iknimaya,” he muttered, voice going flat. “It’s so embarrassing that I got thrown off the cliff. Neteyam did it his first try! Heck, even Dad did it his first try and he was a uniltìranyu at the time!” You shushed your best friend gently and laid your cheek atop his head, rubbing your face soothingly over his braids. He calmed, adding a quiet, “Sorry. It’s just… I’m not perfect like him and I swear Dad just constantly looks at me in disappointment.” He sighed and sniffed, going quiet for a while, just allowing you to continue petting him comfortingly. Then his ears twitched and he paused, asking, “Could you make those chocolate chip cookies again? A whole batch just for me?” You grinned, retorting, “As long as you don’t eat them all in one sitting and complain about a stomach ache later.” He huffed and nuzzled his temple into your knee, replying, “Yeah, yeah, whatever, nag.” “I nag because I care,” you countered. He squeezed your calves in a silent acknowledgement of your words and finally decided to stop next to a pond. Drawing you up and off his shoulders, he let you settle on the lush grass before he flopped onto his back and smiled up at you. Drawing out the ragged book, you settled yourself against his side and opened it to where the bookmark lay. Clearing your throat, you open my mouth and begin to read aloud as you have every day since Lo’ak’s most recent grounding, silently thinking to yourself that Lo’ak enjoyed the main character (despite her being a human female) because she was secretly just as much as an outcast as he felt most days, being “Divergent” and all. “Chapter twenty-one: the door to the Pit closes behind me, and I am alone. I have not walked this tunnel since the day of the Choosing Ceremony…” You continued to read through the chapter in the golden afternoon sunlight and was about to start the next one when Lo’ak suddenly let out a yawn behind you and you realized he was starting to fall asleep. You put the bookmark back into place and turned against Lo’ak’s stomach, leaning against him and just admiring his sleepy face. He mumbled, “I’m awake.” He immediately yawned widely, revealing his sharp canines. “Uh huh,” you teased. “Don’t fall asleep out here. You’ll be thanator chow in no time.” He snorted but pushed himself up and rubbed at his face. “Guess I should get you back,” he commented. “Can we do this again tomorrow?” You smiled and nodded, secretly hoping he was enjoying spending all the time he did with you as you did with him.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 03 February 2024 Word Count: 1,147

@crybabies-heart, @cryingwhilereading, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @erenjaegerwifee, @bambithewriter, @lloreya

AO3 Link

[quazart]

(Movie)Knuckles x (platonic!) Reader

A little fic I made on a whim, after discovering that echidnas had pouches.

The Pouch

You stared at the echidna. He stares back, confused by your expression.

"How long?"You ask, not even needing to finish your sentence for him to know what you meant.

"Uh, my entire life? Oh wait, no, apologies. When I was just growing out of my puggle years."

"So, at least, since we've known each other, you've had this?" 

He nods.

Let's rewind. 

You were asked by the Wachowski couple to watch over their sons for a day. Babysit basically. Of course you agreed. Honestly though,  you'd really only need to look after Sonic. Knuckles, the elder of the three brothers, your best friend, was fairly mature for his age. Though, on rare occasions, he can be roped into mischief, almost always by Sonic.

The youngest of the three, Tails, would be going to work with Maddie. Leaving you three alone.

Tom was the first to leave, with Maddie right behind him. The sheriff hugged each of his sons and ruffling the hair on your head before waving goodbye, as he walked out the door. 

The veterinarian was giving you a quick run down on what the boys could and couldn't do. What they could and couldn't eat, etc.

Her final departing words being-

"By the way. Sonic is grounded again. Knuckles already hid his phone to keep him from finding and getting it again. If you see he's got it, just shoot me a text and I'll handle it through a call or when I get home." 

" Yes, ma'am."

You hear Sonic scoff somewhere behind you and  Knuckles.  

Maddie turns away and checks her purse for everything she'll need. "Alright, well I think that's it. Good luck."

You smile and wave bye as she shuts and locks the door behind her and Tails after the kit quickly hugged you and his siblings. Yelling out a goodbye before taking off toward the car in excitement. Ecstatic about joining his mother and visiting all the animals she cares for.

All three of you watching her as she pulls out of the driveway, and drives past the trees, out of sight. 

You and Knuckles turn around but pause as you're suddenly face to face with a certain smug looking hedgehog.

He rocked back and forth on his feet in front of Knuckles. The echidna already knowing what he's planning, gives him an unamused expression. 

"So Big Red? Mind giving me a hint?"

The echidna frowns with a , "No.", and walks away, with you right beside him.

Sonic grabs his arm, trying to stop him, but Knux just keeps on walking, not caring at all. The hedgehog letting himself be dragged by his brother.

"Oh come on, be a pal!" 

Knuckles waves him off and lays back on the couch beside you. His own phone in hand.

"No. I do not want to be your pal. I am already your brother."

"Ugh!"

He suddenly pauses and turns to you. Big puppy dog eyes at their strongest. 

You take the remote in hand and begin flipping through channels on the t.v. 

"Yeah, I don't think so blue."

"But why? Look, how about five minutes?! Just five, I swear."

You and Knux look at each other, with bored expressions on your faces, then back to your electronics.

Both of you answering, "Nah.", at the same time.

Sonic growls in frustration, but then pulls out the big guns. He takes a deep breath and opens his big mouth.

Ten minutes later of on and on chatter, you and Knux were losing your patience with the blue blur.

Knux is the one to finally give in.

"ALRIGHT!!!" He bursts, partially sitting himself up on his elbows.

You sigh and watch the hedgehog smile, thinking he'd won.

You sigh at the nuisance," Oh my gosh! You can be so annoying!"

He smirks,"Hah, well this annoying hedgehog is about to get his phone back-"

Knuckles sits up all the way, interrupting his brother.

"Not so fast. You can have your device back IF, you can find it within the next two minutes.  You may have it back and we will not say a word to mother. You would just need to give it back before anyone arrives home."

Sonic salutes and gets into running position." When you're ready captain!"

Knuckles lays back down and looks at his phone's clock, "I am not a captain. Go."

One minute and thirty seconds later and he's turned the house upside down, with no sign of his phone. 

'Where is it?!.. Wait!!'

He runs to you and snags your phone, quickly dialing his number and calling it.

You quickly lean towards,  "Hey!" But he holds up a finger, signaling you to wait.

You huff and cross your arms.

Knuckles smiles as he watches the clock. Ten seconds left, then he'll have peace and quiet.

"You will not hear it. Mother turned off its volume for this exact reason." He warns, but what he didn't know, was that Maddie had left it on vibrate.

A faint buzzing noise sounds off and Sonic scrambles around for the device, with no sign of it. 

You're confused. It sounds like it's right beside you, but where?

You look at Knux to see him clench his jaw, and lean forward a bit. Only noticable to you, since you were paying attention and sitting right next to him.

He bites his lip and stares towards Sonic's hand. The one holding your phone and suddenly crosses his arms tightly against himself.

'What is up with him?'

Sonic finally notices with five seconds left. The buzzing was coming from, 'his brother?!'

"What the heck Knux! You ate my phone?!"

Your eyebrows raise, and you look at your friend.

Who's trying to keep a straight face like someone just told him the funniest joke or something. Arms tightened against his stomach. 

"Don't be ridiculous." He manages to say through his giggling.

You don't know why he's fighting a laugh, but the sounds he's making make you smile and start to laugh too. He rarely ever laughed, let alone giggle. So his sudden giggles really hit your funny bone. 

"Why are you laughing?" He asks.

"Huh? Well, why are you laughing?"

The phone stops calling, going to voicemail and Knuckles sigh in relief.

He looks toward his brother and grins. "Looks like you lose, hedgehog."

Sonic groans, frustrated by his defeat. He gently tosses the phone beside you on the couch.

"Well how's that fair! How am I supposed to get it from inside your gut!"

Knux scoffs, " It is not inside me. Of all the foolish-."

This time you call Sonic's phone. The vibrating starts again, making Knuckles sit up with a grunt, and catches himself before a chuckle could escape him.

You and Sonic look at each other, then back to your friend.

That's when Knuckles finally shows you guys. 

He removes his arms from his stomach and raises a hand over it, before reaching into-?! He had a hidden pocket on his stomach?!

Bringing his hand back out, he'd retrieved Sonic's phone, holding it infront of him with a smirk.

Both you and Sonic stared at the phone, then to Knuckles' stomach, where the pouch hid very well because of his fur. 

Knuckles face contorted into one of confusion.

"What?"

And now were back to the present.

"You've had this and you didn't think to tell me!" You grabbed his shoulders and shook him a bit.

"Why would I?! I do not see how having a pouch would be so important as to inform you about it." He said between shakes.

"Dude, this is awsome, you have a body pocket! How is that not important information! What else can you do, or have!"

His mouth is agape still confused by your sudden interest in him because of something as simple as a pouch. A blush covers his muzzle.

"Uh..."

With this distraction, Sonic swipes his phone from the echidna's grip and takes off with a maniacal laugh.

"Haha, sucker! Catch me if you can!"

Knuckles instantly breaks out of his stupor and takes off after him.

"Sonic!!!"

Leaving you thinking of all the awsome and helpful uses he could use his pouch for. He was like a little kangaroo!

You hear something get knocked over and you suddenly remember why you're here.

To watch the brothers so nobody gets hurt and nothing gets damaged. But now that you think about it, even if you tried, you doubt you'd be able to catch up to them. Or have the strength to pull them apart if you could!

Then you have an idea.

"Ha, what was that knucklehead?"

"Why you foul-!"

(*beeeeeeeep* *beeeeeeeep*-)

They both freeze where they are, the sound of somebody calling on their phone with the speaker on. And, as soon as the voice on the other side answers, the boys are suddenly back on the couch. Knuckles holding Sonic's phone and shoving it back in his pouch.

A few seconds before. 

"Hey, (y/n) , how's everything. The boys giving you trouble?" 

Before you could answer, stumbling and grunts echo in the house, getting louder til your two friends are on either side of you, silent. Gazing ahead at the t.v. with blank expressions. You catch Knuckles shoving Sonic's phone back into his pouch. 

"No. No, everything's fine. Just checking up with you, is all. "

"Oh, well thanks hun...And boys?" Her voice grew scary as she addressed the brothers. They both stiffen, knowing she knew they'd done something they shouldn't have. 

"Behave."

"Yes, mom!"

"Yes, mother!"

You say bye to Maddie and hang up.

Your friends glance at you, but quickly are back to the screen when you notice. 

"That wasn't fair. " Sonic pouts.

You shrug." Life's not fair. And besides, how fair do your powers make it for me to babysit you two?"

He grumbles and crosses his arms. 

You look back at your best friend, who was currently laying back on the couch again. Having relaxed since your call to his mom. You pick up where you left off.

Leaning back and holding your head in one hand.

"So?"

He blinks and looks at you, "So...what?"

"What other secrets have you been hiding from me?"

He sits up on his elbows and squints at you, "Why do you insist, so much, in learning about me?"

You shrug, " It's just interesting, and cool. What's the harm in wanting to learn more about my best friend?"

He hums," Nothing, I suppose. And we are friends afterall.. Alright."

"Yes!"

He lays back down and rests his head in his folded arms, behind him.

"First of all, it is called a pouch, not a pocket, as you mentioned before. Its original purpose is to hold and incubate a puggle before and after hatching. For however long their parents can hold their weight, until their spines had almost fully grown in or until they can walk on their own-"

"Wait, wait, wait. Hatching? You came from an egg?" Sonic had interrupted his brother,  honestly surprised by this fact. 

"Of course I hatched, what other way is there?"

The hedgehog turns red, and looks to you for help.

You awkwardly cough into your hand and pat Knux on his arm. "I'll ask Maddie to tell you later. Please, continue. "

"Hmm. Anyways, as far as I can remember,  I don't recall a pouch ever being used for anything else, as it feels strange carrying things in it. I had never used it before, until recently. When mother asked of me to hide his phone." He points at Sonic.

"But he kept finding it, no matter where I hid it. So I gave in and just put in there."

You both look over at the hedgehog again. Who was trying to look innocent.

"For a time, it worked. I've done this several times before and mother had seen me, and did not react. Which is why I was so confused by your surprise to it. "

"Well, you are very animal like, at least compared to humans. And she is a veterinarian, so."

He nods," Perhaps. In any case, just like those previous times, I figured hiding it in the same place would work. What I did not account for was the phone moving about while there."

He held his hand ontop of his pouch. Remembering the strange sensations the phone gave when it moved. It was.. strange, to say the least.

"Oh yeah, what happened with that? Your face looked pretty funny while Sonic was calling his phone."

He removed the phone from his pouch, but this time holding in a slightly tighter grip than earlier, incase Sonic got any ideas, and turned it over in his hand.

"I..do not know. I'd never felt anything like it. I'm not sure what it was."

"Hmm, well, try to explain what it felt like? And I'll see what I can do to figure it out."

He looks at you, then past you, where you knew Sonic was sitting a minute ago. The hedgehog had grown bored and left to the kitchen to make a snack.

"It felt like the buzzing of the device. But.. different. And it made me want to smile..and laugh. Strange isn't it? Like magic."

Your peaceful smile slowly grows into one with playfully malicious intent.

Knuckles frowns." What is with that expression?"

"Oh, nothing. I just think I know what it is."

He raises a brow."You do?"

"Yup, but I'll need to test my theory. Do you mind?"

He is hesitant, but shrugs and watches you reach over and poke around his sides. He twitched a bit and huffed at the feeling, but no smile or laugh.

"Does that feel like earlier?"

"A bit, but not as strong. It's actually rather annoying this wa-AaY!!"

You launched an attack on the poor echidna. Your fingers skittering across his sides and belly, making him grunt at first, but eventually succumbing, forcing high guffaws that evolved into laughter and giggles. You'd grown so used to Knuckles deep voice, but hearing the higher pitched he'd somehow reached, made you smile wide and laugh along with him.

Sonic had been surprised by his brother's outburst, recognizing his voice making all that noise. What he was not expecting, was the reason for it.

A smug grin widens across his face. " He's ticklish!!"

You continue your assault, giggling all the while.

"I guess so!"

Knuckles did not respond. Too preoccupied with trying to catch his breath, his face feeling hot. He should feel humiliated for his actions, but seeing your face and that of his brother, with playful smiles and laughing along with him, pushed those thoughts away.

Besides, he didn't know if he could say anything if he tried. His own laughter taking up whatever breath he could draw in. 

Why did something as simple as touch reduce him to a giggly puggle. 

"Ok, I think that's enough for now." You said in between your laughing.

 His hands covered his stomach as soon as your fingers left. He was trying to catch his breath again, a stupidly silly smile on his face. Leftover laughter fading to giggles as he calms down. 

" That is called tickling, and you my friend are very ticklish, apparently."

"Haha, eh, good, aheh, good to kno-how."

Sonic rubbed his hands together,"Oho ho! Now this is interesting. I could definitely use this next time you hide my phone."

You could hear the gears in his brain already forming plots against his brother.

You look back to Knuckles, with a smirk.

" Sonic is ticklish too."

"Ah! Why would you tell him that!" He cried.

"Eh, just keeping things fair."

A couple hours pass, with you three hanging around the t.v. You were just putting on another movie when you heard the sound of a car rolling up the driveway.

You press pause and get up, along with your friends, to greet whoever was home.

The door unlocks and it's Maddie and Tails.

Tails greets his brothers then you, giving you all another round of hugs, while Maddie walks past, smiling and giving you all a pat or kiss on the head.

"Hey, guys. So how was it? Anything crazy happen or broken things I should know about?"

She's facing away from you guys, not able to see the pointed and worried looks your friends were giving you. A certain blue hedgehog in particular.

"Nope. Everything went well. I even learned something very interesting from today." 

Now it was Knuckles turn to look nervous, and he didn't even know why. 

"Knuckles is part kangaroo." You grin his way, to see your offended friend scrunch his nose and scoff, indignantly.

"I am not. I am one hundred percent echidna. Only echidna blood runs through these veins."

As if purposely ignoring him, Maddie smile at you.

"Why? Did he show you his cute little pouch?"

Knux crosses his arms and looks away from you both, with a huffy," Mother, please."

"Yup. And that's not all." You whisper that last part, walking up behind Knuckles. He barely has a second to turn and see you there before you tackle him down into a cackling mess.

"Wait, no!!-"

"Too late!"

Maddie leans against the wall, watching and laughing along with you two. Tails, hearing the commotion, peeps around the corner, with Sonic right behind him, and sees you ontop of the toppled Knuckles.  

The poor echidna is suddenly saved by the bell. Or in this case, a knock on the door. 

You pause, giving the echidna a chance to breath again, while Sonic goes and opens the door. The sheriff has arrived, and is immediately baffled by the scene before him. 

A wheezing Knuckles with a funny smile and glare directed towards you. Meanwhile,  you're sitting beside him. An oblivious look on your face as you stare off to the side.

Tom blinks for second, then asks, "Uh, what's goin on here?"

Maddie smiles, "(Y/n) was just teaching me something new she learned about our little echidna here."

Tom smirks," And that would be?"

You grin madly and look back to your victim.

"Allow me to demonstrate."

You wiggle your fingers, hovering your hands just above him, making him already unwillingly snicker, knowing what was to come. 

"No, please, mercy!"

"There is no mercy in this house!" 

"No-hOhoHOoO!!!"

Boisterous laughs and chortles fill the air as you show the echidna's father what you'd learned. His family joining in on the laughter at the sight of their more stoic of their family members being reduced to a giggling puddle under you.

"You- eheh, are cruel." His only understandable response amongst his leftover chortles.

Knux doesn't even retaliate or defend himself.  Not daring to move, for fear of lashing out and hurting you. His fists glued to the ground, by sheer will power. A power slowly waning as your assault grows stronger.

You finally let him go when it looks like he's having a hard time holding back and catching a breath. Even afterwards, a string of giggles continues to leave him. The sensation of your tickling still affecting him, even after you'd stopped. 

You give him a sweet little innocent smile."I try."

[gretavangroupie]

Bloom

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: None for now ;)

Chapter One

“She blooms wild and burns bright” - Butterflies Rising

Chapter Two

It had officially been three weeks since you moved to Nashville. Your best friend Amelia had finally convinced you to move in and be her roommate after many months of trying. 

You visited her quite a bit as it was and figured you are still young and since you work remotely you had nothing to lose. It was the first time you had lived away from your family and that scared you, but in good way. You would have to learn to rely only on yourself knowing that there was no one coming to your rescue. Well other than Amelia. 

Amelia had been your best friend since the 3rd grade. She was the fun and free spirit to your quiet, homebody. She was the sun to your moon. Vastly different but bonded through life. 

Amelia not only had a different personality than you did, she was also more attractive than you, or so you and every boy in high school always thought. She was the one with the gorgeous boyfriends while you were always the one in the background. You didn’t mind though. You learned from her. Mistakes and successes, and knew what to look out for. 

Amelia had spent much of this past year single, enjoying her new life in Nashville. You wished you could contain even an ounce of her carefree and outgoing spirit. Part of you thinks that it’s why you finally decided to move to Nashville. 

She had always called you “penny girl” because in third grade you found a penny on the playground and gave it to her. From then on you became best friends. She called you Pen so often that sometimes you weren’t even sure if she remembered your actual name.

You hear the apartment door unlock, and realize she is home from work. It’s around 5:40, and you know she gets off right at 5:00 but Nashville traffic can be rough to say the least. 

“Pen? Are you here?” Amelia said almost yelling.

“Hey! Im in here, as usual…” you replied trying to match her tone. 

You spent a lot of time in the third bedroom which you had both decided to turn into a home office for you. Working from home was really nice, but you also felt a bit isolated. It was hard for you to make friends this way, but you figured Amelia’s friends would just become yours too.

A few seconds later she flitters into the room.

“Hey Penny girl how was your day? Traffic was a nightmare.” She said running her two sentences together, almost incoherently.

“Same as usual, too much work, not enough day.” You replied dully.

“Well, what do you say we make something good for dinner and then play on Raya all night?” She asks.

“Raya?” You reply.

“Uh, yeah? The dating app? It’s the one for creatives and influencers. You kind of have to have a big following to be invited to use it. I only have it because of my work social media account. It’s invite only so it kind of weeds out the weirdos. It’s so much fun to look through all the gorgeous men around us.” she says smiling questionably.

Nashville is definitely a hotspot as far as single, beautiful men go.

“Are you looking for a boyfriend? I thought you were enjoying the single life!” you said with air quotes.

“Ugh pen don’t be a party pooper” she said with an eye roll.

“Okay, okay, I’m not. Let’s do it.”

“Yay! I am so excited! Maybe we will even find you a man!” She said excitedly.

“Oh! No, Amelia, I just moved here, I need to settle in still!” You replied, frowning at her.

“We’ll see” she said with a smirk.

It was just past 9 o’clock, we made a delicious dinner and had polished off a bottle of red wine that she had bought for me when I moved in, to celebrate our new adult lives in Nashville.

We were perched on the couch sitting right next to each other. She had her phone in her hands, holding it right between us, and we were swiping left and right on Raya.”

Of course, half of the men she swiped right on were a match already. You both laughed out loud every single time she had a match and made up imaginary scenarios on how the guy would inevitably say or do something that would make you wish you had never swiped right in the first place. 

You of course knew a gorgeous man when you saw one, but you weren’t into the overtly masculine types that she was into. After reading a few of the profiles out you realized that a majority of these men were aspiring musicians trying to make a name for themselves in Nashville. 

She saw the look on your face when you made the realization.

“They are all like that babe. Every one of them. My advice? Stay away. They are all trouble.” She warned.

“Oh, they aren’t really my type. I don’t think I could ever date someone like that, you know?” You say, looking at her.

She turns up the corner of her mouth, “you never know Pen… you need to make yourself a profile! Oh! Can we, can we please?!” She exclaimed.

“I don’t know Amelia…I don’t have a big following or an invite..” you say with eyes begging her to drop it.

“I can send 1 invite a year! I pick now, and once you swipe through a few guys it will show you more people like what you’re interested in!” She says hopefully.

“Okay, I guess if you’re sure you want to use your invite on me, but it’s not serious and Im definitely not going on any dates.” you say sternly.

About 30 minutes later Amelia loudly exclaimed “It’s perfect!” A cue that your profile was done. She had taken it upon herself to fill out your details, and hand selected what she thought were your best photos. She had always been good at things like this, where it would take you ages to decide. After looking over her selections and making a few minor “about me” changes, you decided that it was good enough. This was just for fun anyways. 

The main profile picture was a photo of you from back home, standing in a lush field of over grown weeds and wildflowers. You are smiling but not looking at the camera, just past it. You had on your favorite dress of that summer, a white bohemian Free People number that you paid way too much for. You look happy and carefree, two things you weren’t sure you actually were. 

The second photo was a photo of you with Amelia at a concert a few months ago. You had driven down to see her and she roped you in to going to a show. Your hair was down and wavy and you had very minimal makeup on. You hardly wore make up as it is. You aren’t the best at it, so the more simple the better. 

The final photo was a photo of you visiting Sedona, Arizona. You were standing on the peak of a mountain, what was arguably the most beautiful view you had ever seen in your life. Decked out in hiking gear and a large backpack, you looked happy and at peace. 

Your “About Me” section read: 

“Nashville Transplant”, 25, Artist, and a few of your interests and hobbies.

You both laugh a little and swipe through a few guys, none catching your interest just yet. 

“Oh, well. Thanks Amelia, I think I am going to head to bed, that wine hit me harder than I thought. I am exhausted.”

“Night pen!”she said.

You do your night time routine, shower, brush your teeth, do your extensively long skin care routine that Amelia has forced you to start doing, you put your pajamas on and climb into your perfect fluffy bed. 

You can’t help this nagging feeling that you should just swipe through a few more profiles before you fall asleep.

You reach over and grab your phone off of the nightstand and open Raya. Again you’re met with countless men who just aren’t your type, buff, chiseled and stunningly hot no doubt, just not for you. You didn’t feel like you belonged with someone who looked like that. 

After about 10 minutes you find a handful of cute guys and swipe right nervously. 

The first, a tall average build guy named Kyle, with blonde shaggy hair, blue eyes and works as a web developer. 

The next an average height, moderately fit brunette baseball player with green eyes named Davis.

The last guy is named Josh. He seems on the shorter side, something that has never bothered you. He has brown eyes, curly brown hair and a stunning smile, however it says he is a musician. You take what Amelia had told you into account, but you realize that in Nashville everyone calls themselves a musician. 

You bite the bullet and see what happens. You probably won’t even match with these guys to begin with.  After a few more minutes of swiping and a few more cute ones swiped right on, you decide to go to bed.

You shoot up suddenly when you hear an alert on your phone. You glance at your alarm clock. 2:27AM.

You look at the offending message on your phone.

~ Congratulations! You Have A New Match! ~

You groan, damn Amelia making you get that app. You silence your phone and fall back asleep.

Next thing you know your alarm clock is going off, 7:00AM comes early. You lie in bed checking twitter for the latest news for a few minutes before you get up.

You slowly make your way to the kitchen to make coffee for Amelia and yourself. She’s already been up for an hour getting ready for work. She does the whole nine yards. Hair, make up, perfect outfit and doing it all before coffee. You wonder how she does it.

You deliver her cup to her in her bathroom and say your good mornings before walking back to your room.

About 20 minutes later Amelia is leaving for work and you are almost done getting ready for the day.

You spend most of the day completely over whelmed with work. You work as a virtual assistant and spend most of your time calling to confirm appointments, schedule meetings or order whatever item your boss needs that day. It’s a very fulfilling job that only someone extremely organized could handle. 

Around 3 o’clock you hear your phone ding from the other side of your desk.

~You Have A New Message on Raya!~

You had completely forgot about your 2 in the morning match. You quickly open the app to see who you matched with. Josh. You click on the picture of his face, and it opens the message which reads:

Josh: I am so glad that we matched, you seem lovely! Was that photo of you taken in Sedona by chance?

You take a minute and scroll through the rest of his photos, you hadn’t looked at them before, just his profile photo. As you scroll you see a photo of him standing with what looks to be his friends all huddled up together. One of the guys in the photo could easily pass at his twin and you figure they must be related.

The next photo is of him but it looks to be a professionally shot photo, and you tell your self it must be related to the “musician” detail of his profile. In every photo he is wearing a smile that is one of the most genuine you’ve ever seen. You can tell he has a kind soul.

You think for a minute what you want to say back to him.

You: Hi! I am also glad we matched, I didn’t think I would get any matches to be honest. My friend made me sign up with her one invite. Yes it is in Sedona, good eye. Have you been?

A message jumps back within a minute, almost as if he was waiting for your reply.

Josh: Well I, for one, am I am very glad that she made you. Of course you are going to get matches, you are beautiful. I have been to Sedona once or twice. Do you get to travel much?

You blush a deep pink, and your chest heats up. You weren’t sure you could still do that. It had been a very long time since you had received a compliment from someone who wasn’t a friend or family.

You: That is really sweet of you. Thank You. I travel a normal amount, not as much as I wish I could though. How about you?

You try to keep the banter as light as possible, not revealing too much about yourself too soon.

Josh: I would say that I am afforded the luxury of traveling more than the average person. While I do love traveling, usually for work, and sometimes there is no greater feeling than sleeping in the peace of your own home. Speaking of home, what brought you to Nashville?

At this point you have completely forgotten about the work that you are supposed to be doing. After reading his message you decide that you will answer him back after you finish your work tasks for the day. 

Those last two hours went by extraordinarily slow for a Friday, and you couldn’t help it that your mind kept wandering back to this mystery guy, Josh. You kick yourself for letting this happen since you promised yourself this was just for fun and that you weren’t going to take it seriously.

You decide to message him back and explain how your best friend convinced you to move in with her and how the rest is history. You and Josh message back and forth for quite a while exchanging questions and getting to know each other a little better.

Your last message to him was sent 6:17PM, and he usually replied to you fairly quickly since you began chatting this afternoon. You asked about his family and what brought him to Nashville. Two or three hours pass and you continually check your phone but, there is nothing there. You and Amelia finish up dinner and you suggest that you watch a movie to take your mind off of it. Throwing your phone onto your bed, you walk back to the living room and watch the entirety of ‘Legally Blonde’, Amelia’s suggestion of course.

After the movie had ended you both decide to turn in for the night. You walk back to your room, pretending that you’re not dying to check your phone to see if you have any new messages from Josh. You pick it up and turn it over. You have three messages from Josh. 

Josh: My brothers and I recently moved here from Michigan. We all live pretty much walking distance from each other so it is really nice.

Josh: I am so sorry to leave you hanging earlier, my phone died right as I got to the studio, and I think one of my brothers must have taken my charger out of my car, the one time I need it of course. 

Josh: I know this seems forward but would you like to exchange numbers?

His last message was sent well over 45 minutes from the previous two and an hour had passed since this last message. You thought about how you wanted to respond. Of course you wanted to give him your number, but you didn’t want to seem too eager either. Begrudgingly, you decided that you needed to ask Amelia. You slowly walked to her door and knocked quietly.

“Come In!” She said.

“Hey, I have a… question for you, but please don’t laugh at me.” You said embarrassingly. 

“Oh my god what?!” She exclaimed.

“So I matched with someone on Raya and…” 

“I KNEW IT!” She interrupted. “You were checking your phone all night! I knew something was up. Oh my gosh tell me, what’s going on? Who is it! Show me!” She bursted out.

“No way, I am not showing you anything yet. I just need your advice on how to respond to this message” you say sternly. 

You explain the situation and read out his last few messages, hoping that she would know what to do. After all she does this all the time.

“You need to message him back like, right now! Give him your number! It’s obvious you kinda like him Pen, and he is clearly feeling you right back! What is the worst thing that could happen, I mean you can always block him if you need to” she says. She puts her hand on your shoulder to reassure you that it’s not as big of a deal as it feels. You thank her, say goodnight, and gather up your courage to type a response back to him. Its nearly midnight at this point so you’re sure he won’t see it until the morning. 

You: Siblings, gotta love em I guess. Don’t worry about it, I had a movie night tonight anyways. Sure we can exchange numbers!

You type in your number and hit send, heart beating out of your chest. Why do you feel this way?

You set your phone down and do your usual night time routine. It is late so you try to hurry so that you can still try to get 6 or 7 hours. After you finish up you get in bed and turn off your lamp. 15 minutes is your new record. Just as you begin to get drowsy you hear your phone vibrate on your nightstand. 

Your heart begins to beat rapidly at the realization that it’s probably him since your friends and family know not to text you this late. You pick up your phone and on the screen is a message from an unknown contact.

Unknown: Hey pretty girl, I’m sorry, I know its late but I just wanted you to have my number too. Rest well.

You could have died right then and there. Pretty girl?! You’re fairly positive that no one in your life has called you such a cute name before. You quickly text back. 

You: Thank you, you too. With a smiley emoji. 

You set your phone back on the nightstand and doze off dreaming of what could be.

[him-x-her]

Vee is for Vampires - Chapter 3

Author: @sinnysuicide AO3: SinnySioux Vamp!Ville x F!reader Wordcount: 2k + Warnings: There will be smut. 18+ only. Read on AO3. Previous Chapter ❥ Next Chapter ❥ Fic Masterlist

Chapter 3: “I’m the hungry vampire now.”

I wake up, fully clothed and completely uncomfortable. I blink a few times; my eyelids fused together with mascara and tears. I try to rub the kohl out of my eyes, and roll over to reach for my phone. It’s 16:48: I have five missed calls, all from work.

“Oh shit!” I hiss, but, truth be told, I don’t care. Maybe I can fake an illness to get a bit of time off work to recover emotionally. I don’t think ‘Sorry, I got attacked by a vampire!’ would go down well with my boss. I decide to think of excuses and maybe call in tomorrow with the best one.

Huh, vampire. Vampires exist. Although this is a completely wild and INSANE concept, it isn’t my biggest fear. Ville tearing my throat out and murdering me isn’t my biggest fear, either. I guess my biggest fear is never again being as happy as I was last night. Upon admitting this to myself the tears start to fall once more. I remove the makeshift tourniquet of an old scarf and take another look at my puncture wounds. They still look sore and will probably take a week or so to heal. I take a shower to mask the sound of my sobbing.

…

I towel dry my hair and brush my teeth. I know that I should eat something but the thought of doing so makes me nauseous. I switch on the TV and stare into the void for a bit.

#And next on ITV starring Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt, it’s Interview With The Vampire.#

I blink. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I switch the TV off and sling the remote across the room. “FUCK this!” I say out loud; I am fed up of feeling sad and worthless. I turn my lamp on and close the curtains. It’s Autumn so it’s starting to get darker sooner in the evenings. I walk into the bathroom to take a look at myself. Pink, puffy eyes. I tie my hair into a messy bun, and put on some old ripped jeans and a black tank top. I go rooting through the bathroom drawer for a cleanser.

“Ouch!” I draw my palm back to see I’ve accidentally caught it on a razor I had haphazardly thrown in the other day. There is a clear slit in my left palm and it begins to bleed. “Fucking great!” I mutter, dismally sarcastic, trying to remember if I have any bandages lying around. Suddenly, there is a knock at the door: I freeze. I don’t know if it’s someone from work checking up on me or even Ville himself since he knows where I live.

I walk hesitantly to the door and stop a foot or so in front of it. “Who is it?” I say, throat hoarse.

“It’s Ville, please, please let me explain.” he begs. I feel sick.

“Explain how you confused me with a snack?!?” I say angrily. This is good. Anger is much more manageable and cathartic than depression.

“I hate myself for what I did to you”, his voice breaks slightly. “Let me heal you, at least”, he pleads.

I hesitate for a moment. Heal me? How? I unlock the door and open it very slowly, my hands shaking. He takes a step into the room and I take three steps back.

“Please, I’m not here to hurt you.” My eyes begin to well up and my hand instinctively flies to my neck. His eyes are pink too; he looks like he has spent his day similarly. Somehow he still looks incredibly beautiful in his black skinny jeans, V-neck shirt and blazer. I glimpse part of a tattoo on his chest and have to snap my gaze away from him to refocus. He approaches me slowly.

“Do you trust me?”

“No… yes… I don’t know!” I become flustered and start to cry. I want so desperately to believe that he is the same man from nine hours ago.

“I’m going to heal your wounds, okay?” He moves closer. He opens his mouth and bares his sharp fangs, and bites down into his wrist. He starts to bleed thick and deep and red. He puts his wrist to my neck and I feel a warming sensation. He pulls back and I run to the bathroom to look in the mirror: the puncture wounds are no more. There is no trace of Ville’s blood.

“W-what? How?” I begin to shake again.

“Shhh, sit down”, he takes my hand firmly but gently and sits me down on the sofa. He sits next to me and takes my hands in his. I flinch when I remember the wound from earlier.

He cups my palm with his. “When did this happen?” He asks, concerned, as he bites down into his wrist again, which appears to have miraculously healed from a moment ago. He puts his bloody lips in my palm and kisses lightly. I watch the skin heal, the wound close and the blood dry up and dissipate. I am in awe. “There” says Ville with a smile “Healed.”

“Huh”, I say, “I guess I know who to call when I get a papercut.” Sarcasm forever my go to when things get tough; masking the discomfort with humour is my way of coping.

“I would give anything for you to call me; I’d heal every part of your body for just an ounce of forgiveness”, he looks sad, but hopeful. I want to trust him, to give this a shot, but I cannot let him off this easily.

I remove my hands from his and stand, my arms folded. “You came to explain”, I state coldly.

He looks morose, “I want you to know I don’t take what I did lightly. I don’t expect you to forgive me or for us to ride off into the sun-“

“Well OBVIOUSLY NOT because you would burst into flames, seeing as you conveniently forgot to tell me you’re a FUCKING VAMPIRE!!” here comes the rage again. I feel myself burning with utter fury.

I give myself a moment to take a breath.

“Would you have believed me?” He looks at me with his beautiful pools of green and I try my hardest not to melt.

“…no” I say, and sit back down on the couch, defeated.

“Please let me just explain what happened. Then you can hate me, you can punch me, you can scream at me. I just want you to understand.”

After a few seconds of silence I concede, “Okay.” He removes his black beanie hat and runs his hands through his hair, visibly stressed.

“When you met me, outside the bar, I hadn’t been drinking alcohol. I’d fed from someone. I didn’t realise they were inebriated until I was giggling like an idiot in your car.” My eyes widen as he talks about feeding. Ville seems to pick up on it. “It’s fine, I healed him and he went back to his friends. Anyway, vampires are nocturnal. We sleep during the day and waking us from sleep can make us feel pretty disoriented. I hadn’t fed properly - I awoke confused - and I could smell your blood. I became overwhelmed with hunger. When I heard you scream it snapped me back into reality and I was horrified…” he looks down and runs his hands through his hair again.

“Last night I… I had the best night of my life. All day I’ve been thinking about listening to your playlist, the way your eyes lit up when I played my guitar, the way you held me, the way we kissed”… he looks up at me with his glassy eyes, his lashes wet with tears. “I have never felt this way before and I would do anything to earn your forgiveness, anything.”

I fight the urge to hold him, to comfort him.

“I…” the tears roll down my cheeks before I can speak. Ville moves closer to me and takes my hands in his again, kissing my healed palm.

“Please don’t be afraid of me. I promise I will never hurt you again.” He soothes.

I take a deep breath and swipe the tears from my face. “I’m not afraid of you, Ville. I probably should be, but I’m not.” He looks at me curiously. “I lost the only family I knew when I was very young. I never wanted to rely on another human being because life is so fleeting,, and nothing is promised. We’re born, we kill time, we die.” My voice begins to waver. “I am afraid of the connection we had last night, the feelings I felt… and never having those feelings again.” The tears silently roll out of my eyes, pool at my chin and fall to the floor.

In an instant, Ville wraps his arms around me and holds me tight. I bury my face in his chest and sob. A moment passes and I look up to gauge Ville’s feelings. He looks at me with sparking emerald eyes, the life in him returned. He places his thumb on my chin to tilt it upwards, and kisses me sweetly.

“Minä rakastan sinua, baby.” He whispers.

“What does that mean?” I ask, looking up into his eyes.

He blushes. “It’s Finnish… maybe I’ll tell you when you forgive me?”

I giggle into his chest; his V-neck wet with my tears. “I’m sorry, let me dry your shirt?” I offer.

Ville promptly unbuttons his blazer and pulls his shirt over his head. My eyes rake over his smooth chest and the little path of hair which leads down… he has portrait tattoos on his chest, a tattoo of what looks like a mix of a heart and a pentagram around his nipple and a swirly decorative tattoo just above his… “Ahem”, Ville clears his throat, “My eyes are up here”. I blush furiously.

“Um… I think I’m the hungry vampire now”. Ville throws his head back and laughs loudly as I place his shirt on the radiator. He walks over to me and softly places his hands on my hips.

“Forgive me?” He purrs.

“Oh, no, baby. You need to earn it.” I smirk with sass.

“Oh, I will”, he vows. “So tell me, baby vamp, which part of me makes you most hungry?” He presses his body to mine and before I know it we’re kissing passionately. My tongue claiming his; my hands grabbing at the luscious curls atop his head. All of the pain, the sorrow, the anger; every single emotion of the last twelve hours thrown into our physical connection.

Breathless, Ville whispers, “Where is your bed?” I hook an index finger beneath the button of his jeans and pull him forwards. He shudders at my touch as I coax him into my bedroom. Softly, I fall backwards into my cold cotton sheets, exposing my midriff as my tank top rides up. Ville crawls atop me and kisses my lower abdomen. I gasp and start to feel wet in my underwear. He begins to unbutton my jeans with his teeth.

“No…” I whine.

He promptly stops. “I’m sorry, you don’t want to?”

I sigh. “I want to, so badly, but we need to slow down and you need to earn this. We need to reestablish trust, and you need to prove your self restraint.” I am so mad at myself for being my own cock-block, but I want this to last, and I want more than just sex.

Ville nods and moves up my bed to lie next to me. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks, with hope.

“Absolutely” I grin, and our lips lock again. We spend hours making out; I run my hands up and down his smooth chest, enjoying the curves and texture of his toned abdomen. He cups my breast through my top. I pull his bottom lip forward with my teeth, and the only sounds are soft moans and gentle bed creaking as we rock back and forth, grinding against each other through our jeans.

It gets to 4am and I am visibly exhausted, my tired eyes illuminated by the full moon hovering proudly in the sky above my window. “Do you want me to stay?” asks Ville, but we both know it is too soon.

“No, baby, I have damage control to do with work tomorrow and I need a good night’s sleep. You’ll have all day to think about how to make it up to me” I smile.

“Let me take you for a romantic date?” asks Ville “Let me treat you like the goddess that you are.” His eyes shine.

“Mmm, okay” I say, sleepily. He gets up and fetches his clothes. I pout as he throws his blazer and beanie back on. His shirt still wet, I ask him if I can keep it.

He smiles genuinely and brilliantly. “Only if you sleep in it and imagine my arms around you” he teases, but I know that is exactly what I will do.

I follow him to my door, “I thought I was clear about burning the hat”, I raise an eyebrow.

“Hey, I got rid of the flat cap! The beanie stays, though” he laughs. “I’ll come and pick you up tomorrow, 7pm? I’ll leave all my hats at home” he flashes his brilliant white teeth at me as he grins.

“Okay” I smile, as he kisses my forehead.

“Thank you. I will make it up to you. I’ll be thinking about those lips all day.” He walks out of the door, down the corridor, and out of the apartment complex. I do as I’m told.

I undress completely and slip on his shirt. I slide into my sheets and touch myself, thinking about his tattoos and the mystery lying beneath the button of his jeans. The last thing I think about are his piercing eyes, as the rain against my window lulls me into a deep sleep.

Graphics by saradika-graphics

[jxtp0sed]

Been back in Japan for a while now but just now getting used to not going to work everyday. It’s been a dream not having to take the congested trains for three hours every day 5-6 times a week omg! It is so so stressful!

Been prepping multiple versions of my resume and tons of cover letters, as well as taking some Japanese lessons (paid for with a stipend from my previous employer - s/o to Nihongonomori) and some MOOCs to level up my skills, alongside attending seminars at my local HelloWork. Getting lots and lots of rejections but trying not to lament though some days are better than others. I need to switch up my approach but also a relocation might be in the near future so I also need to start looking for positions up north… 👀

Remote would be a dream but they’re few and far between for sure…

Since I left my last employer I am proud to say I have booked a handful of model/talent gigs and it’s been such a thrill. I’m writing this on the Shinkansen to Tokyo for what is one of my biggest jobs yet. Of course before leaving Kansai I went through the motions of natural hair anxiety - and I just hope that the beauty team on set over the next couple days come with all their skills because I am going to give it 150% and I want to make sure the look match!!

I really need to get a trim and when I say trim I mean like cutting several inches off my ends (is it even ends anymore?!) because nevermind that I have hair for three people but my endssss whew do not put my blow dried hair in a room with a lit cigarette 😂

Is this a safe space? Anyone wanna take a guess how long it’s been since my last haircut?

Five years…

and before that it was a 4.5 year gap. My last salon visit before that was right before moving to Japan lol I have basically only gotten a haircut that one time since I moved to Japan ten years ago and I didn’t even get the haircut at the 4.5 year mark IN Japan. I’m just really apprehensive about the level of natural/Black haircare knowledge and have lots of childhood salon trauma. I just want to be treated with dignity and walk out happy. 😢 but at this point and with my goals in mind I need to get my hair together and I need help doing it.

I need to find someone who knows how to do a proper blowout since I only ever cut my hair dry. What a struggle in itself and so here we are.

THAT aside

Very thankful for everything so far. I find it ironic that I have the opportunity to take modeling more seriously at this stage in my life. Sometimes I think like damn I’m (re)starting so late - but then I tell myself immediately to shut up, that my timing is the right timing and I’m also immediately reminded of what my mom said before I moved to Japan (she didn’t want me to come after the Fukushima disaster - I still came to jpn for the first time that very August on vacation but) she said “I’m not gonna say anything because I know you’re are going to do what you want” and I don’t think she meant it dismissively, but I think it finally hit her that I ammmm stubborn af and thus also really determined to at least TRY something I’m motivated to do if I think it’s at all possible. Shoutout to my Taurus risings!!

She tried to shoot down my model dreams when I was younger but I mean we was poor and I was the first to go to college like what you mean you wanna take pictures as a job looool

Somehow I feel I’m finding my way step by step. :)

Wish me luck!! My sleep schedule is 💩 and I have very early start times starting tomorrow. Wish I could share more about the project but you’ll find out in time cuz I won’t shut up once it’s out 😂 will post recent work in the meantime

Ganbarimasuuu

[stressedlawsecretary]

Today's Focus

Photo credit: Mess Studio

09.25.24 - Once again the middle of the week is here, and once again I am grateful I get to work from home - in matching sweats no less! I bought my first matching set; it's Garfield and I got it specifically because it's got Pooky icons matching pretty prominently on it.

Work - I did not leave anything for myself to do at home except read some press releases; this means I'm here for whatever comes in by email but since I'm remote I doubt I'll have much work to do.

Background Noise - I am at home, for the next three days even, and so I'm mostly going to be binging my DVR. However, I have plenty of stuff I can put on mute on my tablet while I do that. I managed 17 videos yesterday, and at least a couple of them were over 2hrs long. So I'm hoping to keep some of that energy for my background vids.

Study - Wednesday is visual study day, and I have at least 4 hours of news programs on my DVR that will fulfil this criteria, along with whatever random articles & press releases I read.

Yesterday was productive, and the list of accomplished reading is long. I read 11 sections of the Jefferson Institute report on the Sally Hemings DNA confirmation, I read three articles related to climate change, I did six of Van Gogh's letters, two random articles, eight 'good news' articles, and a couple of published journal essays.

I also made some mention of following up on what I 'studied' over the weekend; now that I'm home where I left that list, I can safely say I read an article related to the Jefferson controversy, three press releases, a couple of temporarily bookmarked wikis, and like seven tabs from my phone.

Extras - Wednesday means I clean the catbox again, and vacuum; I'm doing some extra chores, but I'm off tomorrow so even more cleaning will be getting done then. Tonight is takeout; tomorrow is hunny's bday and he want homemade lasagna. This meal is an all-day affair, especially if I'm making sauce from scratch too, so that's why I'm off.

Lupinranger vs Patranger is silly and I'm enjoying it so I know I'll do more of that today; I'm not sure what hunny will want to do for his bday - that's up to him. I've been working on a longer piece this week, and right now it's running onto six pages so I probably won't write while I'm off. I might color though, and hunny got Katamari Reroll so I'm also going to encourage him to play some.

[cybersp4c3]

Lavender and Cedarwood (part 1)

Sorry for the long wait, midterms are a pain in the ass. Also, I know you said you preferred a longer version, however I don’t have the patience to write all of it at once. I’ll try to send more during the weekend, but until then, please let me know how I did. I know there isn’t any sex in this part, but I kinda wanted to lay down the foundation before I make the next one pure smut. I’m sorry (if) I disappoint. Have a good day/evening.

Tw; topics of slavery, belittlement, objectification, no porn YET, it/it’s pronouns used for Scaramouche

You sighed as you looked over the file your friend had sent you. Apparently, he had bought new slave from the market that was as beautiful as it was a brat. You’ve been known for your abilities to tame unruly slaves, especially sex slaves, so it wasn’t a surprise when your friend commissioned you to help tame this brat. He was actually a good client, he’d given you three months to break this slave into a compliant maid, and the pay was rather generous. However, from day 1, it was obvious that this wasn’t going to be easy. The very minute the purple-haired slave stepped into your manor (and also on the way there), it was screaming to be released. So you had two of your most trusted servants, Xiao and Dorian, gag it and take the slave to it’s new room. Although you usually start training them from the first day, you were tired and just wanted to relax this evening before working tomorrow. But it seems as if this new slave had other ideas.

You heard the faint sound of glass shattering before sighing again. Putting the file down, you walked down the hall to where the new slave should be located. It was just a few doors down from your office and was all but unfurnished. It was meant as a punishment room, one where new or unruly slaves spend time there in silence with nothing to do. Inside, you heard grunts and heavy shuffling. As you opened the door, you saw Xiao holding down the slave while Dorian was busy working the clasp on a collar around the slave’s neck. With a final ‘click’, the two boys stood up, turned to you and bowed. “Hello Sir” they said as the slave picked itself up, trying to get the collar off.

“I heard glass shatter. What happened?” You asked.

“This slave was being difficult, and used the glass from the vase to scratch Xiao” Dorian spoke up.

You hummed and walked over to Xiao, and lifted his head. Sure enough, there was a scratch right by his eye. “Go get cleaned up, then once you’re done, come to my room so you may be rewarded”. The two boys perked up, bowed again, and left the room, leaving only you and the new slave who stopped trying to get off the collar.

“I don’t appreciate peo-“ you started

“And I don’t appreciate being treated like an animal!” The slave shouted, “I am Scaramouche! Number six of the Fatui Harbingers! I am not some-Gahh!!” The slave collapsed on the ground, holding his neck while you fiddled with a small remote in your hand. You rather liked these Fontaine collars. They allowed you to give the wearer a shock with just a turn of a dial. A perfect training tool. You let the slave writhe on the ground for a moment before backing down the voltage on its’ collar. “Now as I was saying, I don’t appreciate people who harm what belongs to me, especially my servants. Nor do I appreciate people interrupting me. Do you understand, little slave?” You say as you look down upon the writhing being. It just closed his mouth and glared at you. At least it’s not incapable of being quiet.

“I suppose I should introduce myself, you will be staying here for three months after all. You will address me as Sir, once you gain the right to be treated like a human, then I will let you call me by my name. But until such time…” you say as you crouch down to it’s level. You grip it’s chin harshly and bring it’s face close to yours, “you are a pet. You may not be my pet, but your master has given me the right to do to you whatever I see fit. So don’t believe for a second that you have any rights here. Do you understand, little slave?” It looks at you with hatred in it’s eyes, but doesn’t say a word. Unsatisfied, you stand up and kick it in it’s stomach. You then yank it’s hair so it faces you again. “I said. Do you understand? Little slave?” It pauses for a moment, as if deciding what the best decision is. “I understand…sir…” So, it made the right decision.

“Good slave.”

-🌟

I was gonna wait for part 2 before posting it but I didn’t want anon to be scared that the ask didn’t send and I need to build up some anticipation ykyk

Part 2 is gonna be a banger I can tell

[grison-in-space]

Have just returned from Matilda's first puppy class, with an outfit I've previously had excellent experiences with, and I am furious and sufficiently baffled that I want to know if there is any way I'm missing something remotely reasonable, possibly as mediated through an inappropriately confident and poorly trained instructor. Or possibly just something new and incredibly dumb, IDEK. Baseline assumption is that this guy is puffed up on his own credentials*, insecure and inappropriately prescriptive about it, and that the broader company has fucked up on placing him with a class and/or that he's gone rogue in some way. If not, I want to know before I go lose my shit tomorrow morning when I call the school.

So, trainers of dogblr, can I get thoughts and opinions on:

an exercise involving holding two puppies firmly around the chest, marching them up to one another face to face on handlers' knees, and holding them nose-to-nose for 3sec; then turning one puppy so they're nose to tail for 3sec, then reversing and holding them nose to tail the other way 3sec, then cookie and retreat--this under the auspices of "teaching greeting behavior". Came with ignoring any signals of puppies not wanting to participate in this frankly batshit exercise and not modifying anything for variations in puppy age or range of development; I think the class is for 8weeks thru 14 weeks but we got delayed a week by the Snows. This alone had me ready to nope the fuck out and call next day. This exercise was apparently important enough to do twice.

An exercise holding puppies in a "relaxed puppy hold" (after the "greeting" exercise, mind you) in which the instructor described a few calming signals and then said that you want to actively see those things in the puppies because they are "signs the dog is calming itself down" as opposed to signals of discomfort or stress. Encouraged puppy handlers to hold the puppies firmly until they see calming signals "because that is how puppies learn to calm themselves down." No concept of stress thresholds or how to handle a dog beyond its threshold introduced.

Prescriptive insistence not just that puppies should sleep in the crate (totally fair; Matilda sleeps crated and will at least until six months) but that the crate should be located outside the bedroom to "teach the puppy where it is in the hierarchy". One person raised his hand and asked "if things are going fine, there's no real crying in the crate, and it's in the bedroom--can it stay there?" and was told in no uncertain terms no.

Relatedly, one person asked how to tell the difference between frustration whining and a puppy that actively needs to go out and pee. He informed the person that he expected everyone to "be able to tell the difference in the way they sound" and that real need to go outside had more of a whining quality. I suggested that if you can't tell, you should try taking the puppy outside to pee for ten minutes and taking it back inside afterwards. He "corrected" me that if the puppy DOES pee, it has earned its freedom! and otherwise it goes back in its crate! (My dude, Matilda has not earned her freedom at six in the fucking morning when she warbles to go out and pee. She has earned the right to go out and pee with her tiny baby bladder.)

Like, am I missing something here?! There was exactly one exercise involving practicing not jumping for a cookie that was any use at all, and there was zero free play time at all. Restraining the puppies got about three times as much emphasis as the fucking name game. And there was absolutely zero room for variation in household rules or variation in how puppies were handling various exercises--this in a class with puppies ranging in age from probably 9 to 14 weeks!

Christ on a crutch, I'm pissed off.

*(a degree in psychology and neuroscience, apparently, which are... uh, the depts I work in as a postdoc at the local university, so go the fuck off I guess and if I ever tangle with that motherfucker again I'm going to say so)

[navigatorwrongway]

okay finals week is over so here’s my ADHD online/remote student survival guide

1. This is the big one: if you’re stuck staring at a blank document that should be an essay by now, what you’re gonna do is turn off your brain and turn on your voice to text on your phone.

ideally, you should have at least one little guy (can be a figurine or stuffie or whatever) for moral support

just go on auto pilot about whatever your paper is supposed to be about. You can go back and neaten it up after you have some thing to neaten up, the point is get something down on the document to break the surface tension

I have speed-written so many essays using this strategy, you don’t even know



2. Get a floor pillow!! It will make your floortime so much more comfortable and sometimes doing work on the floor is necessary for your wellbeing i have this one and I slept on it for several weeks when I didn’t have a bed

just make sure it’s one you can stretch out on, belly flop style — those giant throw pillow-style ones are no good

3. For the love of all things holy go outside sometimes, open a window, anything to get fresh air will help

4. Find something you can have on in the background that will get your brain into over the optimal arousal threshold, I like Time Team and the Historical Farm series (both are on youtube)

5. i KNOW you’ve heard it before but you’re gonna hear it again use firefox and adblockers. Do it. I haven’t seen an ad on YouTube in two years and that could be you, too

6. Even if you can’t use one consistently, I hate to admit it, but a planner does actually help. It doesn’t have to be a planner planner, literally a notepad or stickynote where you write a to-do list and due dates next to the assignment is better than nothing. Black pen for everyday/general to-dos, red for the day it’s due

7. Alarms. Alarms for everything. I usually do three alarms for each class or assignment deadline; ten minutes before, four minutes before, and one minute before

8. Find a dopamine boost game that you can pop on for a second and jump off just as easily. I like dragcave.net because i can collect cute dragons but it doesn’t have any of the ‘drag you in and hold you down’ suction that mobile games do and I can put in as much or as little effort as I want (ie. no rewards for checking in every day, no time-out penalties, also free)

9. Work in daylight as much as you’re able to, lamp light if you must, and screen-only in a dark room as a last resort, your eyes and brain will thank you (see point 1 for alternative methods of essay writing at 10:37pm when there’s a midnight deadline)

10. If your school/institution has tutoring or workshopping resources, use them!! They help, both as an extra pair of eyes and as accountability prods; if you have an appointment to have your essay looked at BEFORE the eleventh hour, it can act as a little baby due date to get that deadline productivity magic working

11. Relatedly, research librarians are seriously SO helpful, see if you can get in touch with one.

12. Find a reason to visit campus every so often, if you don’t have any in-person classes. It’s wild how much the “I am a student, I rightfully belong here” feeling can do to strip away that plastic remote learning vibe

13. Seriously just try point 1 it will make the ‘getting started on essays’ part of your life so much less painful

(And please feel free to add on your own tactics!!)

[justheretoreadfanfictions12]

The Love You Want - Part 1

Sleep Token Fan fiction, the introduction

I look at myself in the mirror, long black hair, it reaches down to my waist in slight waves. My body is covered in tattoos, full sleeves, tattoos reach from my stomach up to my neck, I have a flower on the side of my face. I changed my outfit 7 times just to go back to option nr 1, a black pair of jeans that hugs my curves perfectly, a black shirt with a deep neckline that shows off my huge chest tattoo, gold chains, gold rings, black leather coat & boots, a bloody red belt which matches my lipstick & a winged eyeliner make the look complete.

I landed an incredible job, finally. After years of working for boring bands & artists I can finally show my talent in marketing for one of my favourite bands, Sleep Token. I have listened to metal music for my whole life, I'm so done with working for wannabe metal bands with bad screaming. Sleep Token have been looking for someone to take care of their entire marketing, from social media to stage presence, tour campaigns, everything & they stumbled across my website & sent me an invite to talk to me personally about all their plans & what they need me for.

When I arrive at the concert hall, one day before their next show, I see lots of security outside & I hear a soundcheck being done, Atlantic is playing, on of my favourite songs. I show my ID & they let me in, so I go watch the band play. I need to use my chance to get a private show, so I walk to the front row, give the group a bright smile, close my eyes & enjoy their music. They know who I am & greet me with a smile, at least I think so because I can't see their faces underneath the masks. They play for 30 minutes & I just stand there listening to them perform for me. When Vessel is singing Take Me Back To Eden, I could swear he was singing it for me only. He never breaks eye contact, he leans forward until he can almost touch me. I smile at him, he smiles back. When they are done, the lead singer Vessel gives me a sign to wait, they will come get me. III talks to the others while leaving the stage, loudly enough for me to hear his words: "is that our new marketing agent? I knew she was hot but damn guys, I wasn't expecting THIS. How should we focus on anything when she's there?" I giggle quietly, I can hear Vessel say "Focus, she does an incredible job, we need to be professional to not scare her off cause we NEED her. I don't care what she looks like, she seems to be our best chance of improving our media presence without giving personal information." Oh so serious, I always knew he was the Dad of the band, taking care of the others.

I act like I didn't hear anything when approach me, I just smile & say "thanks for the private how, I loved it!". I can hear all 3 laugh, but Vessel keeps a straight face & shakes my hand. "You must be Iris from Hava Social Marketing, right?" he asks, I nod. "Let's sit down in the back office & talk" he says, his eyes never lose trace of mine while he speaks, his voice is deep & calm. I follow them to the office, we end up talking about their marketing concepts for over 5 hours, the three guys are super funny & nice, Vessel warms up too but keeps a very professional language, he hardly jokes around or laughs about anything. "Okay Iris, I think we've talked about everything remotely important, I'm sure you are tired by now." Vessel says. I shake my head "It's totally fine, I would rather get too much information than too little. I'll start working on the new concept tonight, I'm a night-worker." Vessel looks at me like he wants to stop me from working so much & convince me to get some rest, instead he just says: "perfect, no stress by the way. You are more than welcome to join tomorrow's show if you'd like. You can watch from backstage or front row." Wow, that's an offer I can't turn down. I can't hide a bright smile on my face.

We are on our way out of the concert hall, when Vessel asks: "are you here by car or did you take public transport?". I respond: "I walked here, it's only 15 minutes from my apartment & I love walking". He looks at me, shakes his head & says: "I won't let you walk home at 11pm on a Friday". It sounds like a command, his voice is full of worry & frustration. "It's fine, really. I always do that & I have pepper spray in every purse I own". I answer jokingly. IV says: "I'm sure you can defend yourself, you seem like a tough woman, Iris". It makes me smile, his voice is so soft & caring. But Vessel doesn't agree. "I'll drive you, we have two cars here, the boys will go back to our hotel & I'll quickly drop you off at home. I won't allow you to decline my offer, Iris". He says my name like it's his favourite word. I find myself staring into his eyes, I can only see his mouth & eyes beneath his mask. Time stops for a second when he looks back into my eyes, almost challenging me to just accept his offer. I give in & say: "Well, if I've got no choice to decline, looks like I have to take the offer & let you drive me home". He nods, he looks satisfied. Vessel tells the rest of the band to drive back to the hotel, he'll be there in 30 minutes. Then he opens the passenger door for me & closes it after I've gotten into the car. He doesn't take his mask off. I don't question it, they are very careful to not reveal their identities to anyone. He doesn't say a word, it's quiet, no music on the radio. After a few minutes he turns his head towards me & says: "Do you want to play DJ? I'd love to hear what music you listen to except for our weird little band". He chuckles. Vessel just laughed. It took him 6 hours to allow a laugh to come out of his mouth. I laugh: "oh I'd love that, let me show you a few bands I've recently discovered". It's friday night, I'm sitting in a car with the lead singer of my favourite band who i swilling to pay a hell lot of money to have me work for him, we are listening to new metal bands & reviewing their songs, life feels surreal. When we arrive in my street, I almost get a little sad. I wish we could keep driving for hours. I unbuckle my seat belt, when Vessel jumps out of the car & opens my car door for me. He reaches for my hand, helps me out of his car & bows down jokingly. "My lady, we have reached your destination" he says. I thank him for driving me home & tell him how excited I am for the concert tomorrow, when he looks at me, all smiles have faded from his face, his eyes are focused on mine. "I know what your name means, Iris. Goddess of the sky & the sea. It's not a coincidence, it can't be. You were sent to us. You are here to bring change. I just need to be careful to not let you change me too much" he says. I want to respond but he doesn't let me. "Good night Iris, I'm looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow". His hand shakes mine slowly, his fingers are cold. I can feel my heart pumping so loudly, I'm afraid he can hear it. His silver eyes are locked with mine. They move for just one second. He looks at my bright red lips. He bites his lip & looks back up to meet my eyes again. I hear him sigh quietly. "Good Night .. Vessel? What do you want me to call you?" I ask. A smirk appears on his lips when he says: "Whatever you want to call me".

[thessalian]

Thess vs Resentment

Okay, my incredulity about unironically playing Rick Astley aside: today. Was. HELL.

I woke up already feeling the hurt - the bone-and-muscle deep ache that speaks of a really, really bad day. I knew it was coming. Of course I fucking did. I've been overdoing it for weeks. It was always going to catch up. I just hoped it'd remain at a lower level for just a couple of more days.

But nope. Nope, today was the first day of what promises to be quite some while of excruciating pain. Yaaaaaaaaay.

But still, work needs doing. Thankfully, I did not get a panicked phone call begging me to come into the office. I did wake up earlier than I wanted to because of a text message, but it turns out that was the announcement that my new digibox arrives tomorrow (BT is apparently sending out a new digibox for its TV customers and I have zero idea why because mine works just fine, and this means I'm going to have to enter my bloody Netflix password into the thing again the next time I want to watch something and I haaaaaaaate having to use the fucking remote to enter a password). So at least I didn't have to commute.

That was basically the only good thing about today.

Someone else was typing a bit, today. I don't know who was typing a bit, but someone was. I know because the queue kept shrinking by ten or so reports every so often. The problem was that, once again, the ones that disappeared were those under a minute in length and dictated by someone with a fully comprehensible accent and no tendency to shift around the place or generally fuck up. No, I got all those. The fucking placentas (two of which the person dictating them started two days ago and finished early this afternoon, which dumped them right into the top of the typing queue because it goes by date created, not date completed). The prostate biopsies that are always six blocks or more, always with someone who refuses to state that there are fragments in with the cores until the block key, despite needing that information to exist in the fucking body of the report. The hysterectomies, one by a dude who seems to exist to make a typist bounce around the report, to the point of putting the number of specimens per block at the end of the block key instead of after each block where they belong. And a twelve-minute monstrosity by the guy I am always left to type for because his accent is a pain and he always does reports around the ten-minute mark and ... there's too much about this guy to hate. Well, insofar as his dictation goes - he's a lovely guy with a frustrating way of working, is all.

So yeah, apparently it's now actually policy to leave me all the difficult, frustrating, and just plain egregious bits of dictation. Scruffman knows how bad this is for me. Apparently we just don't care anymore. Fuck.

So now I hurt worse. Anything I might want to do except become duvet burrito is going to hinder my ability to even half-recover in time for tomorrow. I mean, everyone but Violet is supposed to be back tomorrow but that has never helped before and I cannot imagine it's going to help now, at least not in the "Give [Thess] the long and annoying stuff" department. Thing is, if I'm denied some kind of enjoyable activity, I'm just going to be grumpy and resentful. Well. More so than I already am. Because I am resentful. I am resentful of being lumbered with the shit no one else wants to do (because I don't want to do it either; I just do it because it's my job and I wouldn't be so pissed off if everyone did their share). I am resentful of having been obliged to manage more or less on my own for three weeks beyond people grabbing a few of the simpler and easier reports (the ones I enjoy and tend to use to decompress). Basically it feels like everything is dumping on me right now and I am just fed right the fuck up.

And I still have one more day of this shit before I can have some time off. Which will more or less be blown trying to recover from the bullshit of the last few weeks. And if I don't manage to get some kind of recovery done between now and Saturday night, I might have to cancel my Saturday D&D game again, which I really don't want to do but if Friday continues like the last few weeks...

I'm just really, really fed up. Frustrated and resentful and tired and in a lot of pain and clearly I need this time off so, so badly. It wouldn't be anywhere near this bad if I didn't get saddled with everything.

I wish I had the energy and lack of pain to just punch something.

[kqmagicgirl]

ML Secret Santa Gift The Adventures of Kwami-Sitting

Authors Note

This takes place during season 4, set when Marinette and Adrien briefly knew who the other was. On the 100th episode. 

To my secret Santa giftee Light-My-Star, and the ML Secret Santa Project. I’m very sorry this was late.

This is Chapter One, Please Enjoy.

And Happy Holidays! :)

_______________________________________________________________________

         They revealed their identities to each other. Two weeks, three days, and eleven hours ago, and nothing’s gone wrong. Nothing.

           Ladybug is Marinette.

           He’s in heaven.

           Every day he gets to see Ladybug in class, and every night it’s Marinette at patrol. She texts him good night and sends him pictures of whatever late night project she’s working on. He texts her awake in the morning so she doesn’t oversleep.

He doesn’t want to miss a minute of her at school.

           Sometimes it’s hard to even settle down enough to sleep, he’s too excited to see her again the next morning. Nathalie’s caught him yawning once or twice during shoots, but since his father hasn’t said anything yet she must’ve neglected to tell him. Adrien lets a warm feeling settle in over his skin and he finally drifts off to sleep.

His phone rings. It’s not her text tone but blissfully sleepy he rolls over to his phone to see what-

She’s calling him.

           A call from Marinette at three am can only mean one thing. Adrien’s heart jumps into his throat, as he dives to answer the phone,

           “I need you it’s an emergency!”

“Where?” Adrien tosses off the sheets off his bed and dashes over to his bedroom window.

           “My house! now!” Just as Adrien’s about to ask for details he hears a click and the call ends. Adrien jumps out of the window before he’s even used the transformation words.

_______________________________________________________________________

           “Ok… so I should’ve said on the phone this isn’t an akuma attack.”

Normally Adrien would say something hilarious about the mix up but he’s pretty sure he left a lung somewhere between the mansion and the bakery and he has to wait for it to grow back now.

“Yes, milady,” He says between ragged breathes, “I would’ve appreciated that.”

Adrien’s back slides down against her bedroom wall, waiting for his heart to settle down. His knees are bent up against his chest. Marinette looks over at him from her desk, where she’s assembling something he can’t see from this angle. She’s got a guilty look on her face he doesn’t like,

he knows this wasn’t on purpose-

Suitcase. There’s a suitcase on her bed.

“My aunt’s in the hospital.”

           Adrien blinks, “You have an aunt?”

Marinette nods and then continues trepidatiously, the kwamis fly all around her room gathering things to put into the suitcase. “My aunt lives in London, she got in an accident and broke her leg.” Marinette’s working on something at her desk, the kwamis are either helping her with the project at her desk or they’re packing for her.

Adrien winces, he’s not exactly close with his aunt but he’d hate to hear that news, “Is she gonna be ok?”

Marinette nods, “The doctor Mama talked to on the phone said she’d be fine.”

           Adrien notices Sass placing a hairbrush into the suit case, “But she needs surgery.”

           The next kwami… he’s not sure what their name is but he thinks he sees feathers, tosses a fresh pack of hair bands into the suitcase,

“Mama’s already on her way over there,” Marinette continues, “But Papa needed time to close down the bakery properly so we’re taking the train first thing tomor-this morning.”

When he sees a kwami with horns tuck a bottle of ketchup in her suitcase he wonders if he should say something. He chooses not to interrupt the process.

           Adrien nods sympathetically, Marinette powers through without noticing,

           “The point is. I have to leave Paris for a little bit, at least until I convince my parents to let me come back.”

           Adrien feels his heart plummet. 

           “What if there’s an Akuma?” 

Secretly he’d always wanted that remote back for the little toy cat. He just wasn’t sure he could ask for it after what happened last time. Marinette brushes off this hope,

           “Already taken care of.” Marinette reports confidently, “Scarabella’s meeting me at the train station tomorrow morning, she’ll fill in.”

           Adrien pretends he isn’t pouting and tries again, “But-”

           Marinette almost reading his mind cuts him off at the pass she swivels in her chair to face him, “It’s only until I can convince them to let me come back.”

           Adrien takes a minute to let the disappointment pass. Of course she has to go if someone in her family’s hurt. At least he’s being told what’s going on this time, and she’s thinking of him now. He tries to take some bit of solace in that, at least tries not to seem too disappointed she’s leaving.

“Until then. I need a big favour.”

           Adrien feels his eyes go wide and points to his chest in an unspoken question. Marinette rolls her eyes at him in that way she does when she thinks he’s being cute, “Yes you.”

           Adrien smiles proudly,

           “I need you to watch the kwamis.”

           Adrien blinks once as his brain switches tracks.

“I just…” Marinette starts with a guilty tone that has no business being there in the first place, “I wouldn’t ask, but I can’t just leave them alone. The last time I left them when I came back they’d started a fire in the kitchen and that was just for a day.”

           A kwami with floppy ears pops up from her desk drawer, “There was no one to feed us!” Marinette eyes the kwami skeptically,

           “We live on top of a bakery. There was plenty of food.” He hasn’t seen this one use his powers yet… are they the miraculous of the dog? The floppy eared kwami pouts,

           “But we’ve never gotten to bake before, and we can’t when the guardian’s parents are at home.”

           Marinette sighs, “I told you before-“ Marinette stops herself, then swivels back in her chair to face the desk. Then Adrien hears a snap of metal, and she stands up holding…

           “I started working on this after the fire.”

           A binder.

           Marinette walks over to Adrien with a reverent look in her eyes, “In this, is everything that could possibly come up when watching the Kwamis.” She hands him the binder, Adrien gives a second look to Marinette, who waits on him.

           He opens the binder carefully and flips through it.

The binder is thick. With laminated pages, each of the Kwamis gets their own tabbed out section detailing their name, powers, favourite foods, favourite hobbies, favourite ways they get into trouble-

            “I don’t need you here all day every day!” Marinette says like she’s trying to excuse herself for asking. Her arms are flailing around wildly like she does when she’s nervous.

There’s a thick section which has a tab with just a red plus symbol on it.

“I know your schedule’s packed,” Marinette pleads, “But if you could stop off a few times a day to make sure they’re ok and not destroying everything, that’d really help.”

There’s a table of contents.

He closes the binder carefully, it’s all so… Ladybug. How long has she been working on this? He looks up at her to tell her how cool she is, how he’s never taken care of anyone the way she is-

Then for the first time tonight Marinette is totally still.

 Adrien gets his first good look at her since he dropped down from her ceiling staff out and ready. There are grey rings under her eyes, her hair’s been tugged into two very messy, uneven pig tails and it’s unbrushed in a way he’s never seen it before. He’s seen her in her pyjamas before, but he’s never seen her look this… unready.

And worried.

…

He finally manages to catch his breath,

Adrien closes the binder with reverence, stands up and makes a solemn vow to himself to commit it to memory.

“I’ve got this.”

The tension from Marinette falls away like a string’s been cut, her eyes glisten, and she looks at him like he’s pulled down the moon for her and he feels his throat tighten. Oh so carefully, she moves into his space and wraps her arms around him tucking her head just under his chin.

“Thank you.” She whispers against his collar bone,

It melts him from the inside out.

“Marinette!”

Tikki flies over, Marinette doesn’t leave his arms but she does turn her head to look Tikki in the eyes,

“You need to finish packing.” Tikki has her arms crossed and her face stern, Adrien catches Marinette pouts and tries not to laugh

“I’m a distraction.” He informs Tikki proudly.

“Yes you are.” Tikki agrees, not quite managing to look unamused.

Marinette rolls her eyes at both of them which means she thinks they’re both being cute. Then her head swings around alarmed,

“Who put ketchup in my suitcase?!”

_______________________________________________________________________

           “You really don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into do you kid?”

           Adriens’ been studying the binder ever since he got home. It’s exactly as intense and detail oriented as he’d expect Marinette to be about this. Adrien’s so dazzled at the comprehensive break down he almost didn’t hear Plagg,

           “What?”

           Plagg swallows a slice of camembert whole before rolling his eyes at Adrien,

           “The guardian’s got a lot of responsibilities. And not all the kwamis are as easy to take care of as I am.”

           The look Adrien gives him must be incredible because Plagg gets offended very quickly and dramatically turns his head away,

           “Well fine.” Plagg turns away crossing his tiny arms, “If you don’t want my advice. You don’t get my advice.”

           Adrien starts to feel a bit of guilt but before he can apologize,

           “I’ll accept your apologies for a dozen wheels of Camembert.”

           Plagg gets a balled up scrap of paper thrown at him and laughs as it passes through him.

_______________________________________________________________________

Marinette texts him around 8 am to let him know that the exchange with Scarabella’s been made.

And also that she’ll miss him.

[kainzalin]

I just want to scream into the void.

I don't care who reads and who doesn't.

With so much happening around the world, I feel my own issues are insignificant, but they are weighing me down now and I feel like to scream them out.

I am not asking for help, definitely not asking for petty. I am not seeking advice either. Just leave me the fuck alone, this is my wall and I can post what I want.

It goes something like this. I live in a warzone. Not as hot as some of the more pressing ones globally, but it's affecting my life significantly, I am not going to delve into that right now. My country was nice once upon a time, I had dreams before, but they are a little more than a delusion now.

The past half a decade I have been trying to get out. I managed to save some cash and applied for a visa, which is growing harder over time. I left last year but couldn't get work due to my visa limitation. Still, I tried looking for a way, I took interest in remote work as it won't be restricted by country, but it seems complicated for some reason. A bit hard without even access to a bank account.

Next step, I looked into online retailing. Starting my own business sounds promising. If I can just make a few hundred dollars a month, I can at least keep myself afloat. It had its complications, especially that I had no past experience. I had a few hundreds saved up for it, not much but it should work.

Sometime later my brother contacted me, he has been trying to convince me to return to the country ever since I left. Even before that he tried to convince me to stay behind.

This time he told me about this business he's getting into and that he needed my help. The idea sounded promising, definitely larger income than what I was aiming for, and I wasn't going anywhere on my own. But it sounded too good to be true. Nothing wrong with the job itself, it's just that it requires some documents and I know the bureaucracy back home is unstable and what would take mere days and weeks can turn into months or even years. I expressed that and he assured me that this is different and that it will be sorted quickly. I must return home immediately as it's urgent and he doesn't want to waste a day once his documents are in order.

Fast forward one week short of 4 months later and I am just sitting at home, unemployed, my cash is running out, I don't have the means to go back, and somehow I am the bad guy for being upset with my brother who's working so hard and is doing his best and he merely wanted to help.

Anyway, an online friend of mine recently convinced me to attend therapy. Long overdue but it's nearly non existent here and I couldn't afford it when I was out. My friend arranged for me a therapist from their home country and even offered to pay the first few sessions.

It went well, I appreciate it. But my recent self report test indicated that my DASS score was through the roof, with extremely severe across all three categories. My therapist advised me to obtain medication which should help boost my mood. The problem is, I will need a local psychiatrist to prescribe them for me and I don't know where to find one, let alone afford their service. Of course my family would brush it off and suggest alternative solutions such as the good old "Just keep yourself busy, once you get a job you will be in a good mood".

Anyway, I am not trying to make a point, this is just a scribble on my own wall. Don't respond, don't interact, don't share. Just leave me the fuck alone.

[stressedlawsecretary]

Today's Focus

05.15.24 - Happy Hump Day! Well at least I'm halfway through the week; feels like it's dragging for some reason. Can one be busy in a slow way? That's what it feels like.

Work - Well the other assistants and I are fighting to get travel all set, and I'm stuck on my lawyers for a bit so that will probably be what occupies most of the day. Since it's remote day, the only other work I can do is attend to emails that come in - mostly efiles and electronic requests I can complete for my lawyers.

Background Noise - I am at home, so I want to get a few things off the DVR, and I plan on watching Paris is Burning today, among my YT drama videos as I still want to plow through all the Ruby Franke stuff I have saved.

I got through a full dozen videos on YT yesterday, and I'm hoping to do more but I'm also watching longer stuff so I'm not sure that'll work out.

Study - It is visual study day so I'm going to try and do less reading (like, a minimal amount) and do more watching, hence the plan to watch a documentary in amongst my other viewing today.

Yesterday, however, was a different story! I did a half dozen random articles I stumbled on, five more Post Office Horizon articles, five of Van Gogh's letters, five 'good news' articles, and I finished the essay The State and Reconstruction.

Extras - Wednesday is cleaning the catbox and vacuuming the rug; I'll have dishes to do, I want to clean my sleeping gloves, and I have some sewing to do but I should be able to accomplish all of that. Especially since it's takeout day and I'm going to a boba tea place that has fantastic food; we'll watch the next three episodes of Kamen Rider Drive tonight before I start my self-care, and when I'm out of the shower we'll watch The Tick. I don't know if I'll be able to get Erik to game for me but I'll try; I can do some Pokemon on my own too.